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myers-meadow · 1 year ago

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Lucius Malfoy x fem! reader: That which isn't taught in books

Title: That which isn't taught in books

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x female librarian reader

Summary: Draco complains about you, the Hogwarts librarian, to his father. This results in the beautiful Lucius Malfoy paying you an unexpected visit. He is rather taken with you, and he shows you things you can't simply learn from books: your place.

Warnings: smut, blowjob, cum, spit, vaginal fingering, degradation, rough kissing, use of 'slut', praise, gloves, Lucius is Lucius and a that's a warning on it's own, consent isn't discussed but reader is into it, manhandling, (suspected) cheating, hair pulling (assumed reader has hair that can be pulled).

Wordcount: 3699

Dividers by by animated-glitter-graphics-n-more and delishlydelightfuldividers.

“Miss __, you must to lend me this book. I need it for class.” Draco Malfoy ordered, pointing to the book on top of the stack on your right. Third years aren’t typically allowed to borrow advanced books on dark magic, so it wasn’t on the shelves for him to take with a reason.

“No,” you simply replied, removing book from the stack and sending it to the topmost shelf with a wave of your wand. “That’s a restricted book and you need a permission slip from the headmaster before borrowing it.”

Draco scoffed. “I know you let Granger use the library outside the allowed hours.”

How could the damned kid know about that? What a menace.

“The book is still restricted.”

“Do you know who my family is?” Draco said, tapping the desk impatiently.

“Yes, I know your parents quite well. We are old friends, in fact,” you said, which was a lie. The Malfoys are well-known, and you’ve run into them before. Unpleasant was the best word for it, and you were glad the moment you didn’t have to deal with them anymore. Narcissa was alright, perfectly poised and therefore polite – but still raised rich and pureblood. Lucius, on the other hand, gave you nightmares that night. Even worse that you woke up wet between your thighs.

Draco scoffed, sending you a nasty look. “We will see about that, miss __.”

You sighed as he turned around and marched away.

It was later that week that the Hogwarts library had a surprise visit from a tall, white-haired man that reminded you so very much of the pest that was Draco Malfoy.

“So this is where the students are expected to borrow their books from,” said the cold voice, heavy with poorly veiled contempt. “Hogwarts seems to spend their funds… otherwise.”

“Good evening, sir,” you started, tone flat. “Have you come here to take a look around? I assure you our collection is larger than it seems here at the front desk.”

He raised an eyebrow, only now looking at you. “Miss __,” and even that alone sounds like he chastised you, “I’ve come here because of what my son told me of your behaviour. You pick on him and single him out, while the rest of the students are allowed to break school rules at will.”

Your shoulders tensed. So he was really here because of that small ordeal. And above all, it pissed you off that he didn’t even feel the need to introduce himself properly. Of course you knew who he was, but that he expected you to still remember him was infuriating.

“I see. Then you should be pleased to know that I don’t allow any student to break the rules, which includes your son. I do not play favourites.”

An amused smile played at the corner of his lip. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.” Your tone remained flat. Despite that, it was difficult not to let your eyes wander. Gods, did he dress up this fancy just to give you a stern talking to? He was delicious. With the snake tie pin mirroring the glittering of his cold gaze, the full three piece suit that wouldn’t look out of place at a funeral, and the leather gloves he wore even though he had to cross half the castle to get here.

You continued, taking a deep breath to steel yourself – he noticed, his gaze flickering to your chest. “You may be under the impression, Mr. Malfoy, that professors of this school are easily pressured by empty threats, to give your son a leniency that I refuse to show him. This visit won’t change that, so I’d suggest you save yourself the time.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking down at you past his nose. You were glad for the library desk separating the two of you, or you’d back away from him like a scared animal.

“I do not appreciate your tone,” he said, each word perfectly measured, low and menacing. Your adrenaline spiked, and your knees trembled. He leaned forward, and you fought the urge to take a step back. Even just that thought, of backing of, of yielding to him, he must’ve seen it cross your face, and smirked in response, clearly enjoying the hold he had on you.

A group of Hufflepuffs entered the library, giggling to themselves, until they saw the standoff you were in. “Let’s just come again later,” one suggested, and they left quickly, whispering to each other. You nodded at them, and moved your gaze back to the imposing man in front of you. From this close, you could smell the perfume he wore. Something warm like sandalwood mixed with citrus. Fuck, he was insanely attractive. Touching him would feel like the most luxurious velvet.

“I suggest,” he leaned in even closer over the desk, you felt the warmth of his breath fan your face, “that from now on, you make sure you assist in Draco’s education and let him borrow whatever books he wants.”

“If he has the right permission slip from the headmaster, Draco can borrow any book he likes. Without it, he can’t.” You could barely focus on his words with how close he was. “If you knew the book in question, you’d agree with my approach and be glad that I didn’t have a conversation about Draco’s interest of late.”

“And what book may that be, miss?”

“Forbidden hexes and curses. And he’s practiced some too, already. One may think he’s… a bit too interested in the Dark Arts.” You clacked your tongue and pushed yourself off of the desk, trying to clear your head. “It wasn’t a beginner’s book either.”

Lucius quirked an eyebrow and looked you up and down. “Perhaps we should discuss this matter somewhere more… private.”

His velvety voice made your insides flip in nervous anticipation, which you attempted to calm with little success. So, that approached worked. The value purebloods place on image was such an easy win, but it felt good to hear his tone soften.

“My office is there.”

He moved around the desk and went first, waiting for you to move around him and open the door for him. Once inside, he shut and locked the door, and with a quick wave of his wand, the blinds shut themselves. His small smirk as he looked at you then was nothing short of predatory.

“Draco told me so much about you,” his voice was even more hypnotising than before, and he knew the effect he had on you as you breathed in sharply. He walked around you slowly, taking you in completely. Surely this was another intimidation technique of his, so you force yourself to stand your ground.

“He has?” you echo, not seeing the point of it, but wanting to delay the threats and the fight – and that deliciously wrong feeling of anticipation was building steadily inside your lower belly.

“The librarian,” his voice was smooth as silk, “who is so attractive that it keeps the students from their studies. A Slytherin, but surprisingly, you don’t know who or what is good for you.”

It sounds like he’s insulting you again. He stood still right in front of you, a finger coming to rest on your cheek. The contempt has returned to his expression, along with something else.

“You dress… well. Draco said you looked inappropriate, but he is just a boy. He gets silly ideas too quickly.” Lucius’ voice has softened considerably. The way you looked up at him made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing whether to fight, flight or fawn – and the result is that you did nothing.

“Your concern for my appearance is noted, sir,” you managed to say. “Is that why you really came all this way? To make sure your son’s librarian dresses appropriately?”

A small chuckle broke the silence. “I must admit, you are more alluring than he said you were. Perhaps we can solve this disagreement in a more pleasurable manner. If you can learn your place, that is.”

You stared at him. The gloved finger tapping your cheek moved to your lips, slipping between them. The smell of the leather was strong and made your head swim.

“Or should I make it clearer for you? On your knees.” His condescending tone was unlike anything you’ve heard before: alluring, yet cruel. The velvet softness of his voice contrasted with the way he looked down at you past his nose. Such a regal face…

When you didn’t immediately obey, he pushed you down by your shoulders. The floor was cold even through the fabric of your skirt. The tip of his cane tapped your cheek lightly, but it was threat enough.

You gulped. Looking up at him from this angle was a sight to see, his amused expression, the smell of him, the texture of his glove in your hair were as intimidating as they were arousing.

“What’s the matter? I’m sure a big girl like you knows what to do.” His leather clad hand tugged open his belt and ripped open the buttons without a second of hesitation. His eyes glinted darkly with lust. Only when he tugged his cock free from his underwear, did you look away from his eyes. He was gorgeous, pulsing, rigid, the head flushed with blood, with just one teardrop of precum at the slit. Doubting your actions, you reached a hand up to grip him. Warm. Thick, too.

“Are you just going to sit there? Open.”

You obeyed, instinctively, and he groaned lowly as he slid his cock in your waiting mouth. Wetting the underside of his cock with your tongue, you teased the bit of skin just under the head, making it bounce against the roof of your mouth. His breaths came sharply, slowly turning to soft sounds of pleasure. He slid in and out as you sucked him, moving your lips along his shaft. Clearly he held back in showing just how good you made him feel – and your determination grew. You teased the head with vigour, and before you could settle on a rhythm, he forced himself in deep. Gagging and trying to swallow around him, he groaned, and the sound went straight to your core. Shifting your thighs together to relieve the throbbing ache wasn’t close to enough. Lucius set a punishing pace for himself, deep and fast. In and out, and his length grew wetter and wetter with saliva and precum.

“What a pretty girl you are,” praised Lucius, in between hissed breaths and stifled groans. He held your head back by the hair then, and pulled your lips from his cock.

“You were made for this. Know just how to please your superior.”

A cruel gleam shone in his eye as he looked down on you, and he rubbed his cock over your face, coating it in your spit. His words rang true in a way that made you whimper pathetically. The humiliation burned. You broke out in a heated sweat, but the terrible empty throbbing of your cunt was enough for you to stay put. He pulls your head back on his cock, immediately pushing into your throat again.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groans. The satisfied sadism in his expression has you dripping. “What great things even you can accomplish if you receive the right guidance.”

His ‘guidance’ came in the form of an insistent hand fisted in your hair as he fucked your face, without any care for your comfort. Now that his length was wet and slimy, it went in easier, but it still made you gag. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks, wanting to prove to him how good you could be. A small part of you, at the back of your mind, was disgusted by your actions and more so by how easily Lucius exploited your submissive streak. Yet, when you glanced up and saw the pleasure etched into his face, that voice quieted down. He looked sinfully good from this angle, and you enjoyed it through tearful eyes as he pushed at your gag reflex once again. In, out, slower, feeling the drag of your tongue on the underside of his cock, and moaning filth behind clenched teeth. Then, having enough of your tongue, his pace increased, pushing into your deeper and without mercy.

Eventually he let out a satisfied groan, and he pulled out from your mouth, drool spilling onto your blouse, and he stroked himself to completion, groaning harshly as he came. Hot, sticky ropes of cum painted your face. You gasped at how unexpected of and end it was, face burning at how degrading it was to sit there and take it, stunned at the audacity of this man. It may be true that you craved this from the moment you first met him, but that didn’t change that it made you feel both disgusting and desired like nothing else could.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, filthy girl?” His gloved hand twisted in your hair, angling your face so he could admire you. “You will leave this as it is. Merlin, you enjoy this, don’t you? Made such a mess of yourself. Filthy fucking slut.”

His words came through gritted teeth, and you feel the strength he’s holding back as he forced you to stand by your hair. You yelped. The cum left a nasty pulling sensation on the skin as it started to dry. You felt used, so used, and his disgust showed clearly on his face. Nevertheless, he pulled you close, forcing your head to his and he kissed you, with open mouth against your cum covered lips. Without a care that his cum smeared his face as well as yours, and the bitter aftertaste that it left in his mouth, he devoured you hungrily.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice rough. You obeyed. The moan he let out as he pressed his lips to yours again was the most lewd sound you’d ever heard. Your tongues entwined, the taste of his seed mingling with saliva. It was gross, but in the best way. You made him like this, was the thought that shot through your mind, you made him gross and lose control. And you did all of that just by being you.

Teeth clashed and you winced, but he barely seemed to notice. He was so rough, so uncoordinated, yet it was the hottest thing you ever felt. Spirals and sparks of heat radiated in your belly. The hand in your hair let go, to great relief, and wrapped around your throat instead. The kiss grew fiercer still. He consumed you. All of you. His teeth tugged at your lips, nipping harshly enough for small stings of pain, but they were soothed over with the warmth of his tongue. His nose pressed against your face with how far he leant into you, how harshly he pulled your face against his.

This hunger was a world away from his earlier disgust.

When he let go, his pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, passionate and heated. He wiped the cum from his nose and lips, and licked it from his gloved fingers. Your eyes fluttered just at the sight of him. And it was you who caused this, who brought out this side of him, all dishevelled, messy, stained… All for you.

“It seems you do know your place well, dear librarian. How about a reward, then? Do you think you deserve one?”

All you could do was nod.

He pushed you back until your ass hit your desk, and he lifted you up until you were seated. “Legs wide. Good girl.” He spread your thighs as he stood between them. His gloved fingers dragged over the sensitive skin of your innermost thigh. You were positively throbbing. Have you ever felt arousal this strong while completely untouched? You hated him for it.

“Please, Mr. Malfoy,” you whimpered, already growing impatient.

Tugging at the cotton of your panties, he said, not a question, but an order: “Why don’t you take those off for me.”

You stumbled to comply. Before you could say anything, he silenced you by sliding two fingers in your mouth, and you wet them without being prompted to. The leather tasted like his cum, bitter. The texture was pleasant on your tongue. He hummed, pleased, as he slid his fingers out.

“Who knew you’d be such a quick student? But then again, they do say librarians have a wide variety of knowledge.” And his finger found your clit. “How’s that?”

You whined sharply as he increased the pressure, but didn’t move his fingers, still depriving me of the friction I craved.

“Or rather here?” and he slid his fingers to your slit, dipping in, before moving back up, bringing the slick with them. “Aren’t you a wet little slut.”

His middle finger slid in to the knuckle, with embarrassing ease. You moaned softly, brow furrowing. It felt right. So right. So perfect. This is what you were made for, for such a feeling, of being filled, of being used by a man as beautiful as Lucius Malfoy. Your eyes locked and your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his stare.

“What a sensitive young woman you are,” he said, voice soft, yet with a darkness to it. “No one’s touched you this good before. And no one will, after.”

He pulled his finger almost out, then pushed it back in, setting himself a slow and deep rhythm, curling it deep inside. Each time he hit that spot inside, your gasps and moans became a little higher, a little more desperate. You clung onto his shoulders, and he leaned so close your noses touched.

“You look quite beautiful like this… Who knew it would be this fun to put a librarian in her place?” it almost seemed he talked to himself moreso than to you. One finger became two, but his pace remained the same. Steady, in, out, in, curling, out. The drag of his gloves made it even better, and when you looked down, they were wet and creamy from how wet you were. You whimpered as he followed your line of sight, and slammed back in harder. And harder. Now that his pace was steadily increasing, so were the sensations, growing hotter quick. He tipped you over the edge and you nearly screeched – but he kept going, the orgasm prolonging itself until you reached a second high, so high it was painful - and he moaned along with you, slowing but not pulling out. When he finally stilled, both of your breaths were sharp, as though you’d just ran up five flights of stairs. He kissed you again, messily, as he pumped in and out just a few more times, enjoying the twitches of your aftershocks.

“What a good girl,” he purred, and he pulled out. The feeling of emptiness was jarring and you clenched around nothing. His fingers slipped past your lips, and you sucked them clean obediently. “What a good girl,” he repeated, with emphasis and a fond undertone. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

Even after coming down from the orgasm, the hazy feeling stayed, making your head swim as you looked at the man in front of you. He kissed you again, and it was borderline uncomfortable with the drying cum still on your face. He was softer, a wet kiss, he was savouring you.

“I dearly hope this isn’t the last I’ll see of you, my sweet librarian,” he said, and before he left, with a wave of his wand, he grabbed your panties and left with a last, lingering look over his shoulder. “Although I expect you to behave from now on.”

Before you went to sleep that night, you replayed what happened over and over again, and despite the unsatisfiable desire, there was also anger. This man has a wife! You were livid. How could he do this? Not even the degradation – but that you let yourself be treated like that by a man who has a wife!

The next day, during your lunchbreak, the largest bouquet of roses you had ever seen was delivered to the library. There must’ve been more flowers in it than in the entire flower shop in Hogsmeade. The ridiculous arrangement sat on the desk, crowding over all the books. The delivery witch had you sign for them, but refused to tell you who they were from. You shook your head, as you sank down on your chair, staring at them. You didn’t have a vase big enough.

While you were preparing and cutting the stems, you found a note. ‘L. M.’ Was all it said and it filled you with annoyance.

Lucius. Your eyes shot fire at the mention of his name. How dare he play this off in this way. What a condescending gesture, to buy you roses just to stake some sort of claim on you. To remind you of what the two of you did the day before, to keep you in line. Resolutely, you throw the note in the paper bin. Perhaps you should send him a note too, and tell him to save those roses for his wife.

Now what? This many wouldn’t even fit in any garbage bin - not without attracting a horrible amount of attention. Perfectly pristine flowers thrown away would cause enough drama, more than keeping them would. So you, sigh, and continue trimming the stems, getting your anger out with each snip. There was enough to set a few flowers in small vases, or mugs, when those ran out, on each table in the library. The anger had faded by the time it was done, and you looked out over the suddenly very colourful library. Who will water them each morning? You’d never get around to your actual job like this.

What was left of the encounter, was that nagging feeling, of being special. Special enough to have watched such a powerful man as Lucius Malfoy become undone. You smiled softly as you stacked several returned books in your arms. Perhaps this wasn’t over yet.

#lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy smut #lucius malfoy fanfic #lucius malfoy fanfiction #lucius malfoy x you #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #lucius malfoy imagine #harry potter #death eaters #lucius malfoy x female reader

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 2 months ago

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Stress Relief | Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Katsuki Bakugo x AFAB Reader 💋

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: A quick unedited one shot where the reader is stressed and Katsuki decides to help her de-stress :) Nothing complicated here, just sexy vibes.

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, fingering, lemon, Smut, Dirty Talk, Hurt/Comfort

It’s dark in your dorm when Katsuki Bakugo slips through the unlocked door. You’re starting to fall asleep when you see the door open a crack, the light from the hallway illuminating his pale features with its glow.

You’re exhausted and not in the mood to talk to him, not after the day you had. You glare at him from your bed as he quietly shuts the door behind you.

“Come on, babe. Don’t give me that look.” He groans, padding over to your bed and slipping beneath the covers beside you. “You know that I can’t take it easy on you when we spar. You don’t get special treatment in class just because you’re my girlfriend.”

You turn away from him to face the wall, ignoring him. Not only had Katsuki hit you with an over the top, uncalled for special move in training – it was a move you had never seen before. You had thought the two of you shared absolutely everything. You were almost at the end of your third year at UA, chasing graduation. For the past year and a half, you two had been daydreaming about starting a hero agency together. If Katsuki had hid an insane special move from you only to bring it out in a simple training match…what else was he hiding?

“I know that look.” He says as he wraps his arms around you. He’s so strong and sturdy you can’t help but melt into him. “I didn’t tell you about the move because I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought you would be more excited about it, honestly. Come on, babe. Don’t be mad.”

You sigh, your whole body sore from where he walloped you with his overenthusiastic explosion earlier that day. Finally, you acknowledge him. “I’ve showed you all of my special moves – even the secret ones. And yet…you kept this insane move a secret even from me. Sometimes I don’t think you trust me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, rolling your words around in his mind. When he does speak, there’s a tinge of hurt in his voice. A vulnerability that only a few people will ever hear form Katsuki Bakugo. “Babe…I didn’t realize I was keeping it a secret. I was really excited to show you. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t trust you. You’re the only person who knows absolutely all of me. You gotta believe that.” He squeezes his arms lightly around you, reinforcing the words.

You huff with frustration. “Yeah, I know, okay? I’m just really achy and pissed off that you decided to debut some flashy move while fighting me. Why couldn’t you unleash it on Kaminari or Kirishima?”

He buries his face in the back of your neck. “I was tryin’ to impress ya, is all.”

“I’d be a lot more impressed if you didn’t blast the hell out of me during a training exercise.” You try to scoot away from him and end up stretching out your muscles at an odd angle. You cry out softly at the pain.

“Did I hurt ya that bad?” He says, concern lacing his words. “You’re made of such tough stuff…but maybe I took things a little too far in the ring.” His hands run across your body soothingly, trying to rub out any aches and pains that he may have caused during your sparring.

“It’s fine. Honestly, it was a really stressful day and your new ‘special move’ was just the icing on top of the cake. I just need it to be the weekend already.” You sigh out. The past few weeks have been so stressful at school and at your work study. You’re tired and overworked, and you could really just use a break. Katsuki unleashing the full force of his explosion hell on you in class was definitely not something you were mentally or physically prepared for – all you want to do now is rest.

“I know you’ve been real stressed lately. Sorry if I added to it.” He mumbles into your shoulder, leaving light kisses along your skin. You shiver when you feel the tip of his tongue dart out to trace a shape on the sensitive skin of your clavicle.

“Hey…you know what we haven’t done in a while?” His voice suddenly brightens and his hand snakes down to grip your stomach lightly over your shirt. “I can think of a great way to give you a good dose of stress relief.” He smooths his hand down the plane of your stomach and finds the hem of your shirt, dipping underneath the thin fabric so that he can fan out his fingers across your delicate skin. “Let me take your stress away with my fingertips, sweetheart.” He begins to run his fingers back and forth under the waistband of your sweatpants. The sensual touch causes a sparking sensation to gather down in your core. Everywhere he touches, goose bumps pop up on your skin.

“…Kats.” You say, warningly. The walls of the dorm are notoriously thin, and you don’t want to be on the receiving end of one of Mr. Aizawa’s lectures about safe sex, creating a culture of respect, the dorm rules, etc.

“Just keep quiet. I’ll make it quick as I can. No one ever has to know.” He leans in and starts to plant slow, open mouthed kisses along your neck, his fingers dipping lower and into dangerous territory. He brings the palm of his hand to rest right above your panties and slowly starts to circle your clit from over the delicate cotton fabric.

“Oh.” You breathe out, your body coming back to life as Katsuki touches you. He’s always so direct, so sure of himself. His approach to sex is reflective of that – don’t beat around the bush, just get to the heart of the pleasure.

“Yeah?” He whispers wetly before nipping at your earlobe. “You like when I touch you here?”

“Duh.” You hiss through your teeth. Katsuki pulls his hand away from your pussy and you almost cry out at the loss of contact. He brings his ring and middle fingers to his mouth and sucks, coating them in a thick sheen of saliva. He then moves to touch you again, this time sliding his hand beneath your panties for better access. When his warm, wet fingers hit your clit – your body absolutely lights up. All aches and pains are gone – its just you, Katsuki, and his magical fingers.

He starts out slow, circling around your clit until your grinding your butt back into him. He loves this – spooning you while he gets you off. He loves a good power dynamic, and this is no exception. In this position, Katsuki has most of the control. He likes that you know it, too.

He circles your clit lazily for a while, letting you get a feel for it. As you start to buck into him, he decides to speed things up, dipping his fingers low so he can gather some slick from your entrance before sliding them back up to work more on your clit. Within seconds you’re begging for him to get inside you, and he obliges – slipping a single digit into you slowly while giving your clit the attention it deserves with his thumb. He lets you hump his hand, finding the angles that work best with your body and causing you to see stars.

It’s when he slips a second finger into you that you start to get close. You feel his cock harden against the curve of your ass, eager to please. He starts leaving a trail of hot hickies along your shoulder – sucking in your sensitive skin between his sharp teeth and then kissing over marks he leaves behind. The combination of sensations is far too much, and you feel yourself get closer and closer to falling off the edge. The way Katsuki's fingers are slipping, sliding, stretching...it's far too much. You want to groan in pleasure, but you keep your mouth shut as best you can.

His fingers pump in and out of you with practiced skill, and you clap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from moaning out his name for all of the dorm to hear.

“Kats!” You say in a muffled voice from behind your hand. “Kats, I’m close.”

That’s all he needs to hear. He brings his fingers out of you to focus on your clit for a bit, drawing circles and triangles and figure eights and whatever other fuckin’ shapes he knows how to make around your sensitive bundle of nerves until your legs are shaking. Then, when he feels he’s gotten you hot and bothered enough, he slides two fingers deep into your cunt, flicking them in an attempt to hit your G spot.

And holy shit he does.

Katsuki hits that delicious spongy spot deep inside you and your body jerks with pleasure. He smirks at the reaction, proud of himself for figuring you out so quickly. He hits the spot again and again and again until your pussy tenses up and falls into one of the finest orgasms you’ve had in your life. You cum so easily, your whole body shaking as he takes you apart with nothing but his fingertips. The waves of the orgasm hit you full force, your body tingling and jerking in time with his targeted movements. He lets you ride out your orgasm, mumbling quiet praise into your ear as you grind through your high.

“That’s my good girl, so perfect for me. Cumming on my fingertips so nicely. Fuck babe. Fuck you’re gorgeous. Keep cumming for me please.”

His words are just as sexy as his hand down your pants, and you can’t believe how lucky you are to have landed someone as hot as Katsuki.

When you finally finish, he slides his hand out of your panties and pulls you close. He plants a hundred kisses across your neck and shoulder, happy to have been of service. You lay in silence for a moment – you catching your breath, him glowing with pride at a job well done.

“Did I manage to take away some of your stress?” He whispers cheekily. The damn idiot is so proud of himself, as always.

“S-sure.” You try to sound calm, cool and collected but the break in your voice is enough. Katsuki knows that he achieved exactly what he set out to do. You melt back into his chest and start to doze. What a day it's been! You're too tired to speak anymore, but you manage to squeak out: “Thanks babe. Love you.”

“Love ya, too.” He says, settling in under the covers and planting a last kiss on your back. “But I’m still not taking it easy on ya during training.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Is the last thing you say before drifting off into a sound sleep.

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brnesblogposts · 8 months ago

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Listen, please.

Pairing Matty Healy x Reader

words: 1k

warnings angst lol

a/n i decided to switch it up because “you” was starting to piss me off so i switched to third person for this one

—————-

He shut the front door behind him as quietly as he could, locking it, just getting home from the studio. It was two in the morning. The third time this week that he'd got home at a ridiculous hour, he had barely seen her the last couple of weeks.

Y/n lay in bed facing the wall so when he came in he wouldn't know she'd been crying, she felt ridiculous crying over barely seeing him, but it really was getting to her. She felt neglected and like a second choice, she knows how important the music is to him and the guys but she just wished he'd pay more attention to her.

Matty snuck into their room and used the light of his phone to navigate his way to the bathroom, so as not to disturb her. She listened to him as he turned the tap on to brush his teeth and heard him drop his clothes into the laundry basket. He came out of the bathroom and slid into bed, pressing a kiss to her shoulder where he could've sworn he felt her pull away from him, probably a coincidence he thought. She hid under the covers more as he started adjusting himself and getting comfortable, she wished she didn't have to share a bed with him because lately, he felt like a stranger.

She continued staring at the wall as her mind raced, thoughts running through her head at one hundred miles an hour. The overthinking caught up to her again and a few tears escaped her eyes, running down her cheeks. At the same time, completely unaware of what was happening next to him, Matty stared up at the ceiling. He knew he hadn't been paying enough attention to her but this record was so close to being done, he tended to fixate on his music because when it came to his art he was a perfectionist.

As he stared up at the ceiling he absentmindedly reached out to try to touch her, he wanted to feel connected to her. When she pulled away from his contact he felt his stomach drop. It was then he tuned into the sniffles escaping her lips, he reached over to his bedside lamp and turned it on, turning back to her "Baby?" He went to stroke her hair but she curled up into herself even more. He hated seeing her like this, he should have been here this week for he would've known what was bothering her, "Darlin'? What's wrong?" Still, he received no response. He wasn't going to push you but if he knew what was wrong then he could try to fix it.

A few minutes passed and he just sat there watching her, wondering if she'd say anything. He was about to give up and wait until the morning when "You don't love me anymore." She spoke in the most delicate voice "What?!" He all but yelled and then she sat up, "You don't love me anymore." She repeated. He snapped "Don't you ever fuckin' say that again" Why was he angry? She couldn't figure it out, "It's okay," Her voice was soft-spoken. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, "What are you on about? Where the fuck did you get that impression?!" He was trying to keep his voice calm but the accusation was pissing him off, he was more mad at himself than anything, how could he ever let her think such a thing, he felt like he failed as a boyfriend.

Tears started falling down her cheeks and wetting the bedsheets where she sat cross-legged "You-you're never home," she sputtered "Obviously you'd rather be at the studio than with me anymore, I'm sorry I wasn't good enough, I really did try" She choked. He looked at her, eyes wide. He watched as she broke down in front of him. His girl was crying because of him. She continued crying as he watched in disbelief, trying to find the words "I am so fucking sorry." He spoke with sincerity, analysing her face, once again trying to reach out to her but being rejected. He felt like shit.

"Y/n, please.." Matty went for her hand and kept talking "Please, listen to me, don't pull away," She let him take her hand in his and he ran his thumb over the back of it as he spoke "Baby... I love you. Do you hear me? I love you and nothing has changed or will change." Her tears increased his words and he squeezed her hand,

"I can not express how sorry I am for making you feel anything less than enough. You are more than enough, I don't deserve you, to be honest. You have stood by me through everything, all my shit, you've been there and let me speak to you in the most horrible manner when I was at my lowest. I'm so sorry I've been absent this week, I got caught up in the studio, but from now on that won't happen. I'll be here with you more, I'll make sure to tell you how much I love and appreciate you every day, please let me fix this because I can't lose you, my darling." He poured his heart out, kissing her hand when he finished.

They sat in silence as she processed his words, his thumb never halting in its comforting caress on her hand. He stared at her as he watched the tears come to a halt, holding his breath.

"I know your music is important to you," She breathed deeply "You're the most incredible, talented man I know. I guess it just sometimes feels like I get in your way?" He raised his brow at this "I feel like I hold you back, if we weren't together you'd have more time to work on your music." She confessed and he turned her chin to look him in the eyes as he said "You are my music, you're my muse in everything that I do," He squeezed her hand again "You are integrated into my lyrics, the guys get sick of me sometimes, but you're my whole world. He finished his ramble and a glimpse of a smile appeared on her face "God you're an idiot sometimes, Healy," Rolling her eyes "Maybe, but I'm your idiot," He grinned like a dork, she loved that grin.

"I love you, Matthew Healy" She smiled at him,

"I love you, my darling love, Y/n" He smiled as his lips met yours.

———-

thank you for reading! reblogs are appreciated! i feel like while writing this i thought it was my best work and then i got to the end and i hate it, this happens with everything i do though.. :D

#matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy angst #the 1975 #the 1975 angst #the 1975 fic

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sparrowrye · 8 months ago

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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 15

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 15: new terms

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I quickly discovered Alastor's distaste for being ignored.

After the stunt he pulled with my blood, I was determined to keep my distance. He attempted conversation multiple times but I responded with a short answer or a shrug. He attempted to ask what was wrong but that made me further upset. For being soulmates, he sucked at realizing which of his many actions pissed me off.

After the second day, I noticed a lack of meat in the fridge. Before my cravings turned dangerous, I knew I had to pay him a visit. I had to do it with a clear head so I had to do it soon. I hoped the craving I felt was the usual and not the one for his blood.

I gave myself until the third day. I waited in the hallway outside his office, making sure to keep his broadcast from reaching my ears through the door. I didn't want to hear the screams of his trapped souls and dangerous threats. I needed to have confidence to face him.

I was examining my claws, world still silent, when the door opened. My senses came running back as I looked up to meet his grin. "Are you finally gracing me with your presence?" he mused.

"I want to talk."

"Then come in, darling." He held the door open and motioned with his other hand. The hair on my arms and neck stood up. It felt like I was walking right into a spider's web or a wolf's den.

I swallowed, then pushed off the wall. The room was darker than the rest of the house. It grew even darker when he closed the door behind me. I felt trapped, immediately regretting to come in rather than talk in the hallway.

"Come sit, dear." He motioned to the one chair at the fireplace and seated himself in his desk chair. He sat back, legs crossed, and leaned his cheek on his knuckles. His eyes never left me. "Tell me, why the abrasive attitude as of late?"

"I don't appreciate what you did the other night."

"I take it you don't appreciate much of what I do. You'll need to be specific."

This was the type of Alastor I hated dealing with, the type that I had fought against when I first came here.

I tried to mimic his position by leaning into my chair and resting my elbow on the arm of it. I gently brushed my fingers along the part of my neck where he had sank his teeth into three days ago. He lifted his eyebrows but said nothing. He was going to make me say it.

"I didn't appreciate the way you...the way you took my blood a few days ago," I managed. My composure was nothing like his but I tried to tell myself this was practice.

"Is that the only reason you've been avoiding me?" he inquired. He sat up and let his hand fall in his lap. The way he sat wasn't aggressive or intimidating, but graceful and relaxed. It was a stark contrast to his tone, making it confusing on how I should be responding.

"That's reason enough," I tried with a firm tone.

"So you're not bothered by how I retrieved my information from Blackwater's man?"

"I...what?"

"I was fully aware you were watching from my eyes. I was quite impressed you had managed to do it on your own from such a distance." He nodded his head with a smirk.

"I didn't...I..." I looked down at my claws. I didn't know he could feel me when I was watching. Yet that wasn't why I was confused. I hadn't been disturbed by the way he wrenched the man's soul out of his body. Was that because I was inside Alastor's mind, though? Thinking like him? Surely that was it. "We're getting off track."

"Indeed. Where were we?"

"The stunt you pulled three days ago."

"When I tasted your blood?"

"Yes." I leaned forward in the chair, ears back. "It hurt and you almost killed me."

"I may have taken more than necessary, but I wasn't going to kill you. It puts a strain on our bond when you're close to death."

"I didn't like the way you did it." I enunciated the last few words.

"It was the easiest and most efficient way," he said in a matter of fact tone. "Even you know the cravings can cloud your judgement."

"You didn't need to bite my neck. My arm would've been better."

"You have yet to accept the nature of your diet. I was attempting to give you space before I asked. Unless, of course, you want to make this more frequent..." he tapped his fingers individually on his knee, trailing his words at the end.

"You think this is funny."

"Amusing is a better word."

I abruptly stood. I kept the distance but standing higher than him gave me just an ounce of confidence. The way his eyes looked up at me sent a funny feeling through my chest. "I'm telling you now, it's a new boundary. Don't do it again."

My tail whisked behind me as I went to the door, eager to leave the confined space. His claws caught the end of my tail and tugged. I spun, my sharp dagger-filled eyes instantly losing their ferocity when he pushed my chin up with the back of his hand.

"Then how would you like to do it, darling?" The name rolled of his tongue and nailed my feet into the floor. I found myself unable to look away from his red eyes. The heat moved up from my chest and settled in my cheeks. "Come now, dear, tell me." He ever so lightly tapped his thumb on my chin.

"I..." I fell silent, completely unable to answer. I had forgotten what he even asked. He rubbed his claws on my tail and I pulled it out of his grip, finally having something to act upon.

His hand moved from my chin, over my shoulder, and snaked down to my wrist. He pulled it up to his mouth, breath fanning across my skin. "Would you prefer here?" Before I could answer he pulled my wrist higher, stretching my arm and forcing me take a step closer. "Perhaps here instead?" His lips brushed against my forearm.

It was hard to swallow. My throat was dry and my breathing was shallow, but for once not from his magic. I wanted to run but I couldn't let him win. He couldn't scare me anymore. I could go toe to toe with him. At least, I was trying.

I ripped my hand from his grip. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You didn't like how we did it last time. I am merely asking for clarification." He put a hand on his chest with a fake pained look.

"That's not what you're doing and you know that." I pointed an accusatory finger at him.

"What exactly am I doing, then?" He tilted his head to the side. Embarrassment and anger boiled together. I turned for the door handle but he wrapped his claws around the underside of my wrist. It wasn't restricting but there was pressure. "Did you come in here in an attempt to scold me, or were you looking to satisfy something of your own?"

"It's not that bad yet." I let go of the handle to pull my hand away but his claws stayed wrapped around it, following it to where I held it over my chest. His presence was sitting on the outside of my shields, our energy bouncing between us. My hands had already begun to sweat.

"You are torturing yourself, dear." I watched his boots shift so they were closer to my foot claws. "Waiting until you're desperate and in pain. I reckon if you had more of my blood, you wouldn't need any Human's or Demon's blood again." He leaned closer, his chest nearly touching my back.

No more cannibalism, I realized. All I had to do was swallow the embarrassment and my own pride. Could I do that? He was having fun because it made me uncomfortable and embarrassed. If I treated it like it was nothing, maybe he would grow tired and stop the tormenting and teasing. The only problem was the act of taking blood hurt.

"What do you say, dear?" His radio filter was gone as he whispered in my ear. His other hand slipped into the one at my side and interlocked our fingers. His presence backed away from my mind while he closed the physical distance and pressed his chest against my back. I leaned into him, drawn in by his warmth, and stared down at his red claws still around my wrist.

"Okay."

"Okay what?" he pressed gently, filter still off.

"I'll take your blood instead."

"Only if you allow me to do the same. I will be more gentle next time."

"Okay."

"So it's a deal?" Filter back on. My nose scrunched in a snarl and I tried to pull my hand free from his clasped one. He squeezed tightly, refusing to let go. He took a sharp step forward and my arm near my chest barely had time to catch myself on the door. He was still holding onto that wrist.

"I already made a deal with you." I tried pushing against him but he pushed back harder. My forehead was only an inch from the door.

"You can make multiple deals with someone," he said lightly. "Besides, it only strengthens our bond further."

"And gives you the power you want. I'm not doing that." I tried pulling my hand free again but his grip was relentless and unmoving. His body was wrapping around mine and my chest heaved from my panicked breaths.

"I crave your blood just as much as you crave mine," he said next. "This is a means to ensure I don't lose such a delicate. The strengthen of our bond is merely an added bonus." His hair brushed against my neck as his face was completely side by side with mine. I couldn't control my erratic breathing. "Surely you don't wish to continue eating dead victims."

My arm was growing tired from holding the two of us up. I needed to breathe. Just once. "But why make it a deal?" I cursed myself as my voice pitched into a high whine.

"It prevents you from backing out."

I brought one knee up to the door and tried pushing again. "The fact that I would want to should cause concern on your part."

"It does not." His voice hardened. "You have fleeting emotions when it comes to your nature as a Demon. You are inconsistent."

"I have a right to be. A lot has changed for me."

"You have admitted to be inconsistent. Now you see why a deal would ensure you are consistent. I require your blood as much as you require mine, and I do not wish to argue each and every time."

I fell silent. He got me.

I lowered my leg and gave way with my sore arm. His presence gradually came back to the edges of my mind while his body inched away. I drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"So do we have a deal?" he asked again, quieter and softer.

I took my time, taking another slow, self-assured breath. "We take each other's blood when needed, but you must ask first."

I heard a quiet, terrifying snarl in my ear. "Deal." I felt the binding magic ignite from our already clasped hands. It wound its way up my arm and surrounded my heart. It ventured out to the rest of my body like a slow burn of electricity. It momentarily closed my throat and I drew in a sharp gasp when it passed.

It was quiet in the room now. I slowed my breathing and tried to relax my muscles. Alastor peeled his claws off my skin and stood up. His claw came back down on my shoulder a second later, gently turning me to face him. I leaned against the door for support.

He brushed the back of his hand across my cheek. "Now then, do you have something you'd like to ask me?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

mmm....tasty....

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open

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allwormdiet · 2 months ago

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Interlude 2

Ahh, it's time for Brockton Bay's healthiest family to debut

Flight is so cool. Flight without having to get cold or wet or getting pelted by bugs is outright unfair.

Me, utterly charmed: oh my god she's a fucking NERD

And she's a nerd who's scaring the piss out of Nazis, who would hate this girl?

Which, oh yeah, the Nazis run around in Brockton Bay, bet those guys will never sour my mood

Glory Girl's got a whole bunch of powers, huh. Can't wait to get into the exact circumstances of how she got really cool abilities as an inadequate consolation prize for whatever hell she had to endure

I'm gonna be real, the description of this throw made me flinch a little bit. Like he's a Nazi so fuck him, but I hope it doesn't turn out that Victoria is this blase about all her targets

...So if the only spines she ever breaks are Nazi spines, then I'll give Glory Girl every pass she ever asks for, but if she ever wraps a weed dealer's skeleton around a lamppost I'm going to feel a liiiiiittle more concerned.

Everything else aside, this is fucking hilarious

So these two are at the epicenter of, as far as I can tell, one of the most divisive subjects in this fandom? With the others mostly seeming to be variations on "did such-and-such character have full moral justification to do actual for-real crimes against humanity." Let's see where this takes us

I feel a little bad immediately for the contrasts between Vicky and Amy. Five bucks says it's gonna turn out Amy is like the only brunette in the whole family, and while everyone else gets to show off a little she's dressed in a sackcloth. It's very white mage, but I don't know if she even knows what a white mage is.

Also it's a minor detail in the grand scheme of things but I fear for her hair's health if it's actively being described as frizzy

So apparently between ragdolling a Nazi like it's Garrys Mod and this passage, people have chosen to interpret Victoria Dallon as a monster. I can see how they'd be mistaken on this because technically speaking they're close: she's a teenager. For a lot of people the worst version of ourselves is one that exists somewhere between the ages of twelve and twenty, don't ask me how I know that one. The guilt trip here is definitely manipulative, but so is every kid who's trying to play whatever card they have to dodge repercussions for their fuckups. This is a kid, not a master manipulator who twists hearts around in her fingers like rings. This is normal behavior within an abnormal context.

According to Wikipedia, "foreshadowing is a narrative device in which a storyteller gives an advance hint of what is to come later in the story. Foreshadowing often appears at the beginning of a story, and it helps develop or subvert the audience's expectations about upcoming events."

Fuck Nazis, and I'm gonna get in a preemptive "fuck Coil" while I'm at it

Hmm. So here we get the Docks from a third perspective (albeit a Nazi's, so let's take it with a grain of salt), and this time it's presented as something of material value. I wonder how much of that is due to the neighborhood being low-priority for the police and Protectorate, if they decided it's not worth policing if it's not going to recover any time soon.

It's also interesting seeing which names are being thrown around with the possibility of fighting over the territory. I know Squealer ends up part of the Merchants and they end up being a decent power in their own right, but I don't know if any of the others would have shown an interest in fighting for territory. I got the impression that Uber and Leet are more like unfunny and violent pranksters than anything, Circus apparently operates on their own which doesn't seem like how you'd make dreams of conquest come true, the Undersiders are sticking with the theft shtick at this point, and I don't know shit about Trainwreck or Stain. Wonder how much of this is legit speculation, how much of it is the E88 leadership blowing smoke for their followers, and how much of it is this specific guy blowing smoke.

Yeah, see, they're good kids. For now.

Current Thoughts

To pull back on the frame a little, I think this interlude was written with two goals: first and most obvious is to get us in the head of another young cape, a for-real hero this time, who will be featuring in future events to some extend, but then beyond that it's reflecting the rippling consequences of Taylor's actions. Taking down Lung was a good deed, it saved lives and weakened a major gang within the city, but now others are rushing in to take advantage of this and it could cause more harm than was prevented in Arc 1. Taylor couldn't have known these repercussions were coming, she's a high school sophomore who'd only engaged with the cape community in any way after she'd already knocked the bastard over, and she probably still would have made the play to take Lung down and save the Undersiders even knowing that there might be increased gang violence. She's big on action and she's big on pushing through to solve the problem, repercussions dealt with later, but I suspect that everything is going to ripple out in this same way until the whole city starts shaking with it.

Anyway, more to the first point, I like Victoria, she took very little time to endear herself to me and I'm not going to feel so awful about her bone-breaking habits as long as she keeps it to the Nazis

I haven't seen enough of Amy to have a full read on her yet, and I haven't gotten into her head to know how she thinks or feels, but for now I'm pretty solidly on sympathy/pity for her. I'd say something like "we'll see where she takes it from here" but I kinda already know that one

Hoo, boy. Arc 2 done with. 18 chapters in four days? That's not bad. I'm gonna stretch my legs and think for a bit and then I'll give my two cents on the whole of Insinuation.

#worm liveblogging #parahumans #liveblog #worm insinuation #wormblr

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unforgivablego · 2 years ago

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I don't like how people after Comic Con continue to be unhappy. I mean, Neil gave us literally everything. That is, this is the best that he could provide nine months before the release of the S2. The content could've come out much later, I think around May when the official trailer comes out. But we were just given so much interesting cool information literally a year before the release and people just say that they don't like it.

I a little understand why people felt bad abot Neil because of the S1. Like there was no official confirmation of the relationship of the main characters. It meant that the cherished "I love you" didn't sound. Like, the second Sherlock, queerbaiting, Neil wants to get more audience using homo relationships that are so popular right now. But hey, Neil always said that AziCrow were in love. This was long before gay relationships in movies were the norm.

The book was published over 30 years ago. In the fucking book were so many hints of something between the main characters that I don’t understand why people even get pissed off. You don’t need to run far for an example, let’s take everyone’s favorite: “Just remember I’ll have known that, deep down inside, you were just enough of a bastard to be worth liking,” — which literally sounds like “you are a fool, but I love you / you gave your flaming sword to people and impressed me to the depths of the soul,” or when they hold hands, saying their last words to each other before they die, or “Come up with something or… or I’ll never talk to you again,” after which Crowley just stops damn time, because, of course not talking to an angel is much worse than death. Guys, the rest of the characters in the book think that they are together, people and angels, Shadwell generally calls them a couple of Southern pansies (thanks for correct me). “Many people, meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide.” — many also liked this moment. And that's not all there is. And the book was published in the 90s!

In the S1 were many new scenes built mainly on the development of their relationship. There were events that were not in the book at all, which were invented specifically for the series to diversify the concept of their "from enemies to lovers" canon. In the third series Neil gave us excerpts from different time periods, in which AziCrow gradually converge.

The most popular scene in 1941, when Crowley runs into the church to pull the angel out of the hands of the enemies, knowing full well that Aziraphale can do it himself at any moment. BUT NO, he like a real knight, runs to save his princess on the consecrated ground, which burns his legs and, most importantly, saves fucking angelic favorite books. “You are important to me, take the books that I saved at the cost of my own life,” — he doesn't say this, but hey, how obvious is it, especially after the words: “I don’t need you, I have lots of people to fraternize with, Angel,” he said in a fit of anger at the last meeting. He apologizes for 1862 and tries to say that he has no one but an angel. When they, a minute earlier, after so many years of quarreling, start such a stupid conversation about a name change:

“- Anthony?

- You don't like it?

- No, no. I don't say that. I'll get used to it”

Because there's nothing that Aziraphale couldn't get used to in Crowley. Despite the differences, they will always be together, they still have a whole life ahead to discuss it. This short, ridiculous conversation is actually very important. Here Crowley understands that Aziraphale in his: “I’ll get used to it,” — informs (yes, that’s the word) that they will see each other again and more than once, that this quarrel is not an obstacle to their relationship. And then Crowley says, very gently, “Lift home,” as if he knows for sure that the angel is okay with it. The only question is, whose home are you going to, Crowley? Since when do you have one concept of home for two?

The whole mess is completed by a freaking shot in which angel looks at Crowley in such a way that here only a stupid person will not understand what the heck he is thinking about. As the background color changes from gray to pinkish, the music, Crowley heroically leaves the frame and this damned love look after him, that the viewer just sits there thinking: "Oh, look at this blushing bastard — he is so in love." All that's missing is some romantic 40s song that starts off with something along the lines of "And I realized..." Because Aziraphale really realizes in this scene that his feelings are mutual. Somewhere someone wrote that in this scene Aziraphale doesn't fall in love with Crowley and I so much agree with this. In this scene, the angel is already in love, but before that he didn't know if Crowley could feel something in return, and the freaking “I don’t need you,” — in 1862 finished him off. He thought Crowley had someone to hang out with besides him, that Crowley doesn't need him. It hurt him. But Crowley had just walked into the church for only him and saved his books at the cost of his life. This is not a moment of awareness of his love, this is not "the princess fell in love with the prince who saved her from the dragon and they lived happily ever after." This is the moment when Aziraphale realizes that YES — he is loved in return.

And Crowley's “I'll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go”, in gratitude for holy water, in 1967. Crowley, you're sitting in a car right across from Aziraphale's shop. Where are you gonna take him? You planned to rob a church a stone's throw from the angel's house. “I'll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go”. To where?

Aziraphale also excelled just great: “No thanks. Perhaps one day we could go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz,” which definitely means, “One day we'll have a date and I'll let you do whatever you want, but not now”.

“You go too fast for me, Crowley,” — that he said in the end, leaves the viewer in a knockout. Because this phrase makes us understand that they have not been talking about friendship all this time. Here it is, the official confirmation of their love. Aziraphale gives him holy water, which means: “Despite everything, you are very important to me, I don't want to lose you, but I trust you”. He's trying to make sure Crowley knows he's loved. And Crowley understands, Crowley is used to speed and he takes the next step, but Aziraphale stops him: “Can you give me some time?”. Aziraphale is not ready, he just got here and hasn't yet got used to it. The phrase: “You go too fast for me,” sounds in most direct meaning — everything is developing too quickly, I can’t keep up with you, could you wait a little more? It finally hits me.

Fucking flirting in a scene in the Bastille during the French Revolution. Yes, then they still didn't have any definite understanding of what was happening, but I think in those years the atmosphere of the 18th century had a special influence. Debauchery, accessibility, openness and lack of shame in people. It seems to me that this was precisely what caused Aziraphale to flirt so openly and intricately. And of course the clothes. It was so seductive.

This is the best scene ever and I won't stop thinking that. What Michael as Aziraphale is doing here — OMG, his game should be banned from showing to kids because it's freaking so obscene it's embarrassing. The way he just lights up when he hears a familiar voice behind him, the way he pronounces his name, so joyfully, as if it weren't Crowley, but the She Goddes herself, who condescended to talking with a mere mortal. Angel, hello, Crowley just said about the cruelty of people, where did you swim, stop your vulgar thoughts and focus. The way Aziraphale scans him from head to toe, the way he sighs languidly, and then the phrase: “Oh... Good Lord,” said with such an expression as if Crowley had suddenly undressed in front of him. The short appraising looks that the angel gives him, as if Crowley is more sweeter than any pancake for which he swam the channel during the revolution (yes, we definitely believe you, Aziraphale) — these are the looks that are called undressing, here it is, in full physical incarnation. And the situation in which the angel allegedly fell. It's just not possible to describe how obvious it is on purpose. He's handcuffed in a local prison that definitely looks like a dragon's castle, waiting to be killed by the guillotine (isn't that romantic already?), dressed in his chicest outfit, even fucking changed his hair — for the first time in 5,000+ years! — and pretends to be very helpless, playing his standard: “I'm an angel”. He can literally snap his fingers and be home. But what does he do? He lets Crowley take care of him, creating a situation similar to rescuing a poor helpless princess from the tower, while portraying such affected and understandable innocence, as if he is not an angel, but a whore maiden who argues before losing her virginity. And why is he doing all this? Why do you think? Because at the end he just invites Crowley to bloody dinner. I fucking love this scene.

"You're my best friend" playing in the background as Crowley tries to find Aziraphale in the burned down bookshop. And the words: “You make me live, whenever this world is cruel to me,” — just aches in the heart. Even though the angel was wrong a thousand times (only because he tried to protect the two of them, sometimes out of stupidity, angelic naivety and a desire to do everything right — yes, they sometimes behave as stupidly, just like people), Crowley still considers him his closest person (?) (creature rather).

A small heart on Aziraphale's contact screensaver on his phone when Crowley can't get through (maybe an accident).

And then when he walks into a burning bookshop and breaks down for the first time in 6 episodes. He's really emotional in this scene. It's so unexpected that it's unnatural to see him like that. His voice is different, he no longer controls the tone and words, for the first time his walk tense, in this scene he cries, which has never happened before. Aziraphale is dead and Crowley feels and expresses as many emotions as he has never felt and expressed in all the 6,000 years that we have been shown. When Fredy goes into post-chorus in the background, I love that part so much. Did anyone even notice that in this scene he literally confesses his love? At the end, Crowley yells “Somebody killed my best friend!” — I can't, it's just heartbreaking.

“It's a big universe. Even if this all ends in a puddle of goo, we can go off together,” — I won't stop crying from now on, my heart shrinks every time (this is one of my favorite scenes, every word really hurts).

“I don't even like you!” — thrown by the angel for no clear purpose: to convince himself of this or to hurt Crowley. And Crowley's “You do!” in response, because, Aziraphale, who are you trying to fool. 6000 years together and you never once thought about to stop communicating. Potential enemies communicate with each other only in two cases: if they are ordered from Above, or if they themselves want it. Remind me when you received a request from the Heavenly Chancellery: "You must get close to the enemy in order to find out his insidious plans." Don't remember? No one remembers, because there was no such thing.

And when Crowley again offers to run away together in a couple of hours — YES! — Alpha Centauri — the best place to wait out the apocalypse, the main thing is not to forget my husband, otherwise he's not at all a person dear to me and in general we had a fight today, I strongly offended, but without him I won’t move a finger in the direction of escape. I'd rather die right here than start saving my carcass without this stupid feathered asshole.

Also don't forget about «holding hands» scene in a bus.

I’m not sure I have much time to end this digging.

And even this is not enough for people? The series not only improves the book and confirms their romantic line, but with the help of the actors and their wonderful performance, creates a masterpiece using gestures, facial expressions and removing innuendo, taking away the opportunity to imagine something left, allowing you to focus on what your eyes see.

Neil said three hundred times that this is a fucking love story. And people just shit in his canon and say: they didn’t say “I love you”, they don’t fuck, what kind of love is that, you're doing everything for popularity. Shut your fucking mouths! Neil is just tired of repeating endlessly that they are an angel and a demon, they are supernatural entities that do not fall within the framework of human relations. Their love is on another level. They are not gay because angels and demons are genderless, which means they have no gender (which also means they can choose their gender at will and change at will, as Crowley did). They are not asexual, because these concepts are invented also for people.

And you know what? Neil just spat in the faces of the fans with a fucking poster of the AziCrow standing in front of a fucking heart made of wings. “Here it is, just choke with this your's canon, here are both main characters against the background of the wrong organ which means love to you, and just try to say that this is not an official confirmation of their relationship.” He crumpled up a piece of shit that prevented him from living and smeared it all over our faces. “Eat,” he says, “I am a local Goddess here and have descended to give you food (for fanfiction). Don’t thank.”

Neil talked about how after the events of the proposed third season, they would move into a fucking cottage in the St. Downs and live together like fucking old husbands. He gave a nod to Crowley's already-acting move to Aziraphale's bookshop at Comic-Con, showing exactly that moment from S2 and no other. In a bloody interview after the panel, he revealed that this season is gonna be "quiet and gentle and romantic" compared to the first and hypothetically third season, and given that the show will have 2 kisses - just choke on fucking tears of happiness. He bombarded Tumblr with answers to leading questions, gave information about when the S2 would be released approximately, leaked new characters, a teaser, part of the plot, a concept photo and people like: we don’t like it. So what is wrong with you, guys? Because I believe that what we have is the best that could be, the best that we could have. And we got it for absolutely nothing.

Yes, golden potato jokes are funny, I wrote a couple myself. And kindly mocking Neil can be fun too, especially when we get the same thing in return. It's a relationship between the author and the fandom, and I really like it. But let's at least sometimes be understanding and patient. I don't like to watch other people's dissatisfaction knowing how much Neil has done for us. So I want you to don't forget about it too. No need to buzz about the teaser and video that we didn't get for Christmas. We all want to please Beelzebub with a tick in front of the task “Annoy Neil every day”, but can we show angelic patience? Neil knows what he's doing. Let's trust him.

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beebotea · 1 year ago

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hey, are you listening? — part 03

pairing : college au!xiao x f!reader . summary : in which uni students decipher vague tweets and emotions... + ie: second-year students y/n and xiao are forced to work through their term project (and feelings) as their friends attempt to meddle with their love lives ‘for the greater good’ . cw : swearing, slut-shaming, suggestive, reader she/her pronouns, alcohol, mentions of substance use .

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03. into the night

act 1, scene 1

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act 1, scene 2

Y/N watched as Xiao stood up from the table and excused himself from the conversation. It wasn’t long until Hu Tao & Venti and Yanfei & Heizou began their own respective conversations, leaving Y/N and Scaramouche to sit there in silence.

“Oh, um… is he alright?” Y/N said, as she watched Scaramouche finish sending a text from his phone.

The Inazuman ruffled his hair in slight frustration before setting his phone down. “Oh, Xiao? He said he was going to the washroom. I’m sure it’s nothing. He’s not great with big crowds unless he’s on stage with his bass.”

“I see… I thought he didn’t really like me or something…”

“Yeah, ‘or something.’”

“What?”

Y/N took a second to take in his appearance. Delicate and soft features carefully defined and enhance by his red eyeliner and the way his fringe framed his face. He was a very pretty young man… it seemed to run in the family considering Xiao was quite easy on the eyes as well, although quite intimidating.

“So are you done admiring me yet, or…” He seemed to catch on to her spacing out, smirking at her as he spoke up.

“Oh… sorry I didn’t mean to stare.” She looked away, feeling her cheeks heat up from being caught red handed.

“It’s fine. You wanna grab a drink with me at the bar over there?”

“Oh, sure alright.” Y/N accepted his extended hand. Scaramouche helped her out of her chair, before promptly letting go when she got to her feet.

“So, how come I’ve never seen you around campus until now? It seems we have a lot of friends in common.”

“Oh, I mean I guess I only really know Aether, Childe, Cyno and maybe Heizou from your side… it’s more like we have friends of friends in common. I’m not in too many extra-curriculars either.”

“Yeah I suppose that’s true. You’re in marketing right? How’s that going for you.”

“It’s fine, I suppose it’d be a lot simpler than Mechatronics Engineering…”

“Eh, maybe. But they’re totally different so I wouldn’t try to make a comparison.” He smiled at her.

“I’m not going to lie… you’re a lot nicer than I expected.”

“Really? What makes you say that? You thought I’d be more like Xiao or something?” He raised his eyebrow curiously at her.

“No, well yes but not entirely. My friend Mona didn’t seem to excited when she saw you and Childe show up so I just got the impression you wouldn’t be so fun to talk to.”

“Is that so? Did she tell you why?”

Y/N shook her head in response and tilting her head to urge him to continue.

“Hah, we’ll do I have a story to tell you.”

“Please, do tell.”

Before Scaramouche could continue, he received slew of notifications. “Oh, sorry one second,” he pulled out his phone to respond to whoever was bombarding him with messages. Shortly after, he slipped his phone back into his pocked and looked back at her to continue where he left off.

“Sorry about that, where was I… oh right. I went to a Snezhnayan private high school for the first three years. So in my third year, Childe and I were on the soccer team and we were playing against Monstadt City Academy. She was on the cheer squad for their school or whatever and there was like a small problem with their formation or something. Anyways, long story short, she fell off their pyramid right as a break was called and Childe and I almost pissed ourselves laughing at her.”

“No way!”

“Yep, it happened. You can even ask her, although I probably wouldn’t want to be there to see you get scolded… she’s quite the prideful one.”

“Yeah… I think I’ll just take your word on it then.” The two laughed together about the memory of the great Mona Megistus falling on her ass. “You must be really good at soccer then. Are you on our Uni’s team?”

“Oh yeah, all of our band members play together often after practices. We’re all on the team. The season is over now but you should definitely come watch our games next year. Who knows maybe Xiao will finally talk to you then.” He smirked at her and nudged her with his elbow.

He was met with widened eyes and incomprehensible stammering. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to talk to him~ Too bad… I was hoping I’d be the one to catch your eye. Oh look, speak of the devil himself.”

Y/N looked into the direction he nodded at and saw Aether, Kazuha and Xiao approaching.

“Hey, Y/N! Having fun? This is Kazuha, our band mate and you already know Xiao.” The male twin waved at her as the three joined their group of two.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Kazuha smiled as he extended and arm to shake her hand. “So what are we talking about?”

“Oh, you know, we were talking about how Y/N—ow.” Y/N elbowed Scaramouche in the side to stop his teasing before it got out of hand.

“Soccer! Scaramouche was telling me about how you guys are on the soccer team!”

“Yeah, we are!” Aether explained how Scara and Heizou played forward, Xiao and Kazuha often took up the midfield, while he and Venti usually played as part of their defense or goalie. “Some of other guys in our friend group, like Cyno and Childe, are on the team too,” Aether continued.

“Well recently Xiao has been playing forward, right?” Kazuha spoke up, patting the black and teal haired man on the shoulder to encourage him.

“Yeah, strikers are usually the fastest on the team. It’s just that I’m bad at aiming it into the net…” Xiao shyly chuckled at himself. It was a first for Y/N to see him smile, or to see any expression on him at all (other than a scowl).

“I’m no expert at soccer but I’m sure you’ll be the a pro w practice right?”

Xiao granted her another smile accompanied by a nod.

Since then, the atmosphere in the group began to change. They continued to exchange opinions and ideas during their conversations while also asking each other about their experiences with common friends and acquaintances.

Xiao had even seemed to loosen up a bit after a drink given to him by Kazuha and adding his own short quips.

Eventually, Scaramouche was called back to his table by Venti. Not long after, Aether and Kazuha also returned to their table after witnessing Xiao ask a whole conversation-starting question on his own, leaving Y/N alone with him for the first time that night. Luckily, the alcohol in their blood made it significantly easier for the two to speak to each other and loosen up even when they were left alone.

“Sorry for being a bit… uptight earlier this evening. I was kind of nervous coming to this party.”

“No worries, I get like that too sometimes. Meeting new people can be overwhelming, right?”

“Yeah… especially when they look like you.”

“What?”

“Oh I… I didn’t mean to say that our loud—like I meant—”

“I think you look great too, Xiao.”

Before Xiao could respond, Y/N got a call from Hu Tao, who was outside with Yanfei, preparing to leave.

“Sorry, I have to go now… I’ll see you in class on Tuesday! It was really nice finally being able to get to know you. Bye!”

“Yeah, no worries. You too… bye.”

He watched as she ran to their table to grab her things before hurriedly waving to everyone and made her way to the door. He was starting to wish the night was longer… or that he drank the alcohol earlier that evening.

—

act 2, scene 1

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a/n: lots of words mb… hope you enjoyed!

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taglist —

@ashhh-14 @sanghyuksgasolinestationscream

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#[smau — hey are you listening?]#genshin impact x reader #genshin smau #genshin college au #xiao x reader #genshin xiao #xiao smau

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heloflor · 9 months ago

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Unpopular opinion: The ending of Mario Odyssey is amazing and one of the best Mario games endings.

First off, it’s hilarious. Between Mario being pushed out of the way, Peach low-key considering Bowser when he gives her flowers, Mario and Bowser fighting like idiots, their faces when Peach rejects them, Mario comforting Bowser, Peach trolling Mario with the Odyssey, Cappy and Tiara just watching the chaos unfold, all while there’s a music playing that doesn’t even sound like a Mario song... All of it is just so good!

Second, about the way Mario acts, it actually makes sense. Something random I noticed a while ago is that, when Mario and Bowser are shouldering each other, Bowser barely looks at Mario and remains focused on Peach, while Mario looks more pissed and glaces at him more than once. And in general, that’s the whole vibe of this scene. Bowser is still genuinely trying to court Peach, while Mario is instead fully focused on his rivalry with Bowser, completely forgetting to consider Peach’s feelings as a result. It was definitely a shitty move from Mario, but he’s not doing it to impress Peach, he’s doing it to one-up Bowser.

On that note, this scene is great because it helps in giving the headcanon of this game taking place very early on in the Mario timeline (or is that just me?), I’m talking a year and a half into Mario and Luigi being in this world. As a result, you could see Mario being a bit too caught up into the fantasy of being the hero saving the princess, and this game would give him a reality check. You could also imagine that, once they get back to the Mushroom Kingdom, he and Peach have a talk, basically starting their friendship all over again but this time on better terms, with Mario having no expectations of a romance and Peach being more open to him about who she is as a person rather than keeping up her royal appearances around him.

Third, I love that Peach is allowed to be angry at the situation. She has every right to say no. She doesn’t owe Mario a romantic relationship, especially when he’s acting exactly like her captor does. I especially like how we see her take a breath when she gets on the Odyssey before bringing her smile again. It shows that she’s still angry but willing to put it on the side for now.

This scene also shows what I talked about in previous posts with Peach being sassy in a playful way. It’s obvious she has no intentions of leaving Mario behind, but also she’s mad at him so she only calls for him after starting the Odyssey, forcing Mario to run and jump to get on. And she does it all with her usual smile, showing even more that it’s playful rather than petty.

Oh and for those worried about Bowser “being left behind”, he literally came to the Moon by airship, airship he spent the whole game in and that Mario never destroys in any way. He’ll be fine. I’ll be more concerned for all the kidnapped guests who have no way home and were inside the church when shit went down. Speaking of which, are the guests the characters looking at the Earth at the end? No because that also implies they don’t really have a way home unless the Toad Brigade helps them. Or the taxi.

#Super Mario #Super Mario Odyssey #Mario Mario #Princess Peach #Bowser Koopa #Flor talks #got thinking about this ending while working on a fic and felt the need to talk about it #I actually wonder if this is really an unpopular opinion #it feels like most of the people who dislike this ending are either shippers who are sad Mario got rejected #along with being disappointed in how he acted #or are this brand of gamers who just don’t like Peach’s character #or this minority of assholes who see her as an ‘ungrateful b’ bc god forbid women do anything #personally I love Peach taking the Odyssey and forcing Mario to make a run for it as a small revenge #she was so real for that #(intended on posting this in december but then I got sick)#(and then I kept pushing back posting things on my blog for over two months for literally no reason...again)#(gonna start posting and reblogging a bunch of stuff since I never use the queue thing; putting stuff in bookmarks instead)

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lastweeksshirttonight · 2 years ago

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April is here and so is more looking back at the past ten seasons of Last Week Tonight. Wooo!

I'm going to aim to have Last Lee Tonight posted every week on Thursdays. Work is always a wrench in my plans but I'm pretty sure I can keep up that pace. They'll let me leave at some point right? hahaha help.

Now that the admin notes are out of the way, let's get cracking.

Last Lee Tonight (wherein John waited three episodes to dump music knowledge on us and honestly I'm impressed he waited that long) Season One, Episode Three

(original air date: 5/11/2014) Major topics covered: global warming; campaign finance and 2014 Senate political ads; Russia/Ukraine tensions

"History was made this week. ...Technically, history is made every week, that's kind of how history works."

We are still in that unique transitory period where John's team has figured out that longform segments are probably the way to go... but aren't really sure how to best utilize the rest of their show's time. The first two episodes were marked contrasts to each other structurally and were easier to compare. This third episode is all over the place, rushing through the first small segment on football, before covering a wide array of information and sources on Russian actions in around 8 minutes, which then gets us to our first main segment about ten minutes in. You can tell that the writers are still really trying to work out how to best structure their strange new show.

We start the episode talking about the first openly gay player in the NFL, Michael Sam, something I swear happened both earlier than and later than 2014. I fucking love that ESPN completely ignored the player in question's sexuality and just talked stats and genericisms. SPORTS!

We don't spend long there, as we move straight into discussing the present Ukranian/Russian tensions, first through the lens of Eurovision. I am truly shocked that John hasn't covered Eurovision every damn year, because it's the kind of overly theatrical camp nonsense he adores. We get a very Daily Show-esque bit where John grabs a paper way on the other side of his desk to quote Russia's entry, and it makes me sad that the audience barely registers it as a joke.

Also shit Conchita Wurst won Eurovision nearly ten years ago. I feel so fucking old.

Russia also recently annexed Crimea at the time, and John briefly covers the struggles Putin will have with the annexation. Putin is busy minting a two-pound commemorative coin over his 'victory', so we get a fake commercial for the "Worthless Desolate Landmass Commemorative Coin". This feels very much like a Bugle bit, complete with the satirical underpinning of acknowledging that Russia will actively make Crimeans' lives worse. And obviously Putin shirtless on a horse.

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(I know that continually mentioning other things John has done that line up with these LWT bits probably seems a bit harsh or uncharitable, but LWT was clearly still trying to find a voice that wasn't cribbed from the two productions John was most associated with - to say nothing of the gigantic shadow The Colbert Report cast over every talking-head show in its wake. There's a lot of what I'd consider essential LWT that's been completely missing from these early episodes, from the common running gags of being a furry and shitting on his appearance, to a more unhinged level of social disruption and trolling, to even some of his linguistic choices - and that honestly makes sense. John has said multiple times that no one on the show had any idea what they were doing at this point, so why not pull from things that worked before?)

The first major story starts 10 minutes in, and regards campaign finance. The FEC has allowed bitcoin contributions to campaigns and jesus christ kill me now

Sorry. Campaign finance just innately pisses me off, and John gets me by basically saying "what else is left" while listing off all the campaign finance fuckery of the past few years at that time. I wish 2023 Me and 2023 John did not have to see what else was left.

John's joke about cribbing band names from the Kentucky Derby is gold. Tag yourself I'm California Chrome.

We get our first delightfully off impression of the series from John in this section - it's the rich evil Southern gentleman voice, in the form of Mitch McConnell threatening to kill people with a shovel over his love of coal. No amount of context will help me explain that better.

John also confirms that Mitch McConnell is not a homegrown Kentucky girl like his then-competitor, Alison Lundergan Grimes, by noting that "Politifact rates that true". I laughed so hard at that I had to pause. Please bring that gag back.

The Kentucky piece is overall worth watching, as it hits how campaign finance has influenced political advertising in ways directly detrimental to statewide and nationwide issues of import. The only part of this on YouTube is the capper, where John makes the most over-the-top and morally repugnant ads he can possibly think of. Trigger warning for gory violence including disembowelment, implied animal cruelty, and old man and middle-aged nudity. (Required note from this blog: it is not John Oliver nude. Fucking weirdoes, the lot of you [/j]) Link is here bc the video is, quite reasonably, age-restricted.

We now move to our very first "How Is This Still A Thing?", with the subject "Dressing Up as Other Races". Honestly no notes here, this segment came out the gate strong and basically in the same format it retains in the current day. (Seriously stop using other cultures as a costume.)

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Finally, with five minutes left, we get to the segment Wikipedia thinks is the main one, on climate change. (The pacing of LWT Season One is a rollercoaster.) Global warming in 2014 threatens everything, yet 1 in 4 Americans think it doesn't exist. I would like to travel through time to scream at them and John thinks even talking about that kind of stat is fucking pointless. Bill Nye is brought on to have a statistically representative debate on the topic, which involves a random fuckload of people being on stage at once. I love the chaos but this is a very slim bit.

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This was the weirdest episode to watch so far, I think. They took the lessons of the last episode and did attempt to apply them, but we aren't quite at the sweet spot of LWT pacing and structure yet. We'll get there eventually, I'm sure.

Random notes:

Lee obviously focuses on important things corner: After the absolute banger that was "red check pattern" last week, we return to neutral blue shirt and bubble-patterned navy tie. The unique tie elevates this to a 8/10 look, but one thing I cannot wait to get to is his "bold outfit choice" era of shit like silver suit and blue check shirt.

John describing bitcoin as something only "heroin dealers and assassins" use makes me yearn for the innocent time of 2014, when people were not trying to sell me every goddamn coin and ape doodle and metaverse on earth.

The YouTube team for this episode truly had no idea what to clip for this one. Their main segment doesn't have an authorized clip, and I don't know why they decided to take a 5 minute segment and make two clips out of it, an abbreviated version and a full version.

Speaking of weird shit on the LWT YouTube, have this 45 second bit of HBO selling the fuck out of their new show and John being obviously uncomfortable with it. However, in this clip he is, and I say this with a minimal amount of bias, hot as fuck. ("I'm no one's idea of a photogenic human being" SHUT UP MATE MY GOD)

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I found this ad on their YouTube as well, which was very fun. Back when we expected some actual timely news discussion on LWT!

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#john oliver #last week tonight #last week tonight with john oliver #last lee tonight #bangs appreciation hours #truly that buzz clip is so fucking odd #Youtube

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asoulofatlantis · 2 years ago

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One can not help but pity her a bit. She is so used to doing things her borderline-insane way, going all out, having a little taste here and there, just enjoying a good fight in general. And now she is stuck babysitting princeboy here, whos ego is way bigger than his actually strength and that means constantly focusing on him, instead of focusing on a fight and to top that off, secretly, Shirley is making sure Cedric doesn’t cross too many lines he might later regret, meaning that if Shirley would really cut lose, she would all but edge Cedric on to do something stupid, which would ruin the whole reason of her holding back so much. Meaning that, even tho she still has to hold back and put her focus on something else than the fight, it must feel so great for Shirley to FINALLY every once in a while have the chance for a real good fight. I mean, what did she even tho with all that energy? Annoying Cedric the whole day? XD

Totally not another jab at him, given how this is totally TOO MUCH in this current situation. Absolutly unnecessary. Cedric was just pissed off and had to show Kurt that his toy was bigger ^^’ Also, ruined Shirleys chance for a good fight XD (In all honesty, I never noticed the mess this fight was, simply because of Cedrics arrogance. No wonder that Shirley roasted him afterwards. He so deserved it.)

*achem* I leave that here for you to wonder about any possible double meaning behind those words... *lol*

This must be so frustrating for Cedric. He pulled out the big guns just for show (as he didn’t even use the red constellation and most of Class1 or their panzer soldats) and then wanted to prove that he doesn’t need any of that, just for getting his ass wiped by new class7 who shouldn’t be able to keep up with a Diving Knight as strong as TestaRossa (proving that he can’t handle that thing) and then being called out for it by Shirley, who of course uses the mocking nickname she gave him. I almost feel sorry for him. But just ALMOST XD Go ahead Shirley, give him hell! ;P

She is so cruel. Pointing out the obvious, making sure he feels even worse for the fact that he didn’t just say he was stronger he actually SHOULD be stronger and yet, he is failing. Infront of his class1 and the red constellation that is currently serving him, as well as his enemies and... dare I say it? A girl worth impressing that is OBVIOUSLY not impressed at all and is pointing that out without holding back anything ^^’ Once again, I almost pitty him.

You know, when I went into my first playthrough of that game I had seen Shirleys and Cedrics final scene with a fan translation and given Cedrics comments and thoughts towards Shirley deciding she introduces him to her father (one has to admit, that does lead one to question as what exactly she introduced him, but we get there latere) and that there is no way in hell they included that comment from Cedric just for fun, without the intention at hinting at something, I knew what to expects from those two when I first got to this scene... or so I thought XD I remember saying “Oh, this is so not a match made in heaven” back then. And I still believe even Aidios is surprised how that turned out *lol* But anyway, recently I wondered how I would have reacted walking into this game blindly, not knowing what to expect from whatever Shirley and Cedric have to do with each other. I definitely would have assumed that they do not work together on free will and do not exactly get along very well after this scene. It would have hit me like a rock to see what happens in the final Diving Knight battle and afterwards, that much is for sure XD But it is funny. This is my third run throught this game and just the way she said that slightly double-meaning comment says a lot about their relationship. (Not because of the fact that I jokingly wonder if there was a more sexual meaningt behind that sentence, but because of the way she words it. It wasn’t an “Oh, so that is how you go” - kind of surprised way. It was more like a “Here we go again” - kind of way. Like she is already used to hin being like it. Also the familiarity in which she speaks about him. Barely 2 months have passed since the grahl, but she already seems to know him much better then one would think, after such a short amount of time.) But you only notice that AFTER you get passed her calling him a pathetic XD

You know how I always mention with Rean and Lloyd how their voice changes when they speak to a certain someone? That works for them too, just that Cedrics voice actually gets really submissive, which is so darn amusing. Like how he is straining himself, even saying “please”, despite the fact that for once, he is in the right. This really is not the time or the place for that, but she gets away with it anway. And I stay with it that Cedric might be slightly (attracted to her XD) scared of her. He knows he is no match for her. Like, she is the one person aside from Osborne, that he knows he should not get into trouble with, despite his overblown ego. Its so amusing to hear his voice when he asked her to not call him “Princey Boy” XD This scene is quite fun these days.

Look at her face! Gotta love this borderline insane girl ♥

With class7 complete (Rean, Crown [Did I just really write that?] and Millium obviously aside), I think blowing out the Pantagruel is now a tad too much on our side ^^’ But I guess you fight overblown Egos with overblown Egos ^^’ After all, it is no coincidence that we have to face Cedric in the same scene we reunite with Musse... just saying.

You are aware that the actual insult game from your dear Ogre-Girlfriend, right? ^^’ Not that you would dare to do anything about her XD

Seriously XD

I am in a bit of a rush to get Rean back and finish this game, but playing new class 7 is always so damn tiresome for me ^^’ And the scene with Cedric and Shirley was exhausting in its own way as well. So I guess it is already time for a break once more.

#Reasons to (not) replay CS4

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year ago

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Hello, I love you. It is such a blessing to have readers like you.

1. The Postmaster-General pun came to me at like 3 AM and I was delighted at how well it explained both Yamamoto's competence at running an executive organization, but not a government and how a guy with no clan backing rallied an army and funds- Yamamoto got attacked as a postman by the clans, lost his patience, very literally went postal, and convinced his fellow postmen to join him.

Tsubaki is his first and only, and his deepest regret is fucking that up. Not just because she was the only person he ever experienced romantic love for, but in more practical terms, she was his co-commander, chief diplomat, sounding board and tbh did her honest half of the work founding and running soul society.

2. The Shihoin cat shape-shifting is an inherited trait- the Shihoin are cat people like Komamura is a wolf-person, but they all got cursed for poor behavior and largely lost the ability to use their cat forms and powers. The forbidden Kido Chika experimented with is them essentially prying up loose corners of the curse to get some of their abilities back. It's forbidden because it's a great way to piss off the Gods.

3. Kinroku is like if Capone had gotten operation paperclipped, and was instead consulted for his expertise in running a criminal organization to make the FBI better at enforcing the law. Kinroku is a man who knows what side his bread is buttered on, and makes the third division an incredible force against corruption. Honestly, he drafted most of the laws soul society operates under which is part of the reason it functioned as well as it did for so long. Definitely Yamamoto's beat hire.

4. Chigiri and Yachiru were friends before either of them got arrested because combat people need good medics and early medical research needed access to a lot of corpses to study. They've been friends for a long, long time.

5. Danjiro is 100% a have a beer and chill and very sympathetic to the poor kinda guy, and his big achievement as captain was getting major roads built all the way into the outermost districts, partly so the Gotei-13 could deploy At Speed and deal with warlords and hollows and wildfires etc. But once in place, the roads also served to level the economic playing field for a lot of the outer districts, opened up trade and really improved the overall quality of life for most people.

6. SHE SURE FUCKIN' DID. The Kuchiki hate to admit it, but the legendary speed and power of the Kuchiki captains all comes from her. She was such a robust and lively person she more or less saved the clan from genetic meltdown for almost a millennium.

7. Nobotsuna is a Kido master but more importantly, despite appearances he's quite a gentle soul and almost never gets truly angry or alarmed by other people's antics, so he's the IDEAL guy to have a chief psychopomp in a place where sometimes there are powerful and angry souls in line. Nobotsuna is such a weirdo he can match anyone's energy and then walk them back down, and he's such a goof he can make even the most frightened souls giggle.

8. Batsu'unsai however, was very much the administrative arm of the Kido Union and her skills as a financier ported over directly. She was also Not Above using her cleavage to distract people into signing on to agreements that were not necessarily in their best interests. I sorta ship her, Uhin and Nobotsuna in a poly triangle.

9. Entetsu takes a little while to come out of his shell properly, but the thing about him is that Entetsu used to be a travelling folk singer/handyman/rover and He Knows A Guy. Anything you might need done, he knows someone who is an expert at it, because he's travelled so much and met so many people and impressed them with his staunch ethics and beautiful voice that he can call them up and have them here tomorrow to fix this. He was the one to introduce Tsubaki to the rest of the dirty dozen, because he'd met her at the races last year, and she clearly knows How To Organize Things.

10. Otogawa does seem like a strange choice for any sort of commander given his terrible impulse control but: note that he invented a negative pressure pump. He's actually a genius but has the benign and near-sighted worldveiw of a lightly concussed duckling. A very Leonard of Quirm kinda guy, if you've ever read discworld. Otogawa got to be in charge of monitoring the living world because he was the guy who developed the first stable and reliable portals to and from the living world, as well as the technology to track the appearance of hollows when they emerge from the appendix dimension Las Noches is in.

11. Unohana is... A major natural disaster in her own right, yes, but she's not stupid. She's quite smart but uneducated and has ADHD so a moment of boredom can turn into a black depression in minutes so she's THRILLED to have the structure of marching orders and Yamamoto constantly giving her new things to play with.

To answer a timeline question someone else had: she had severely damaged her left lung in battle (possibly against Askin?), which is how the authorities were able to catch her in the first place. Chigiri is largely able to heal it... But listen Girl. If something happens to your left lung again, we're going to have to remove the whole thing and that'll fuck up your ability to fight so LEARN TO BLOCK.

And she does! She also learns how to read and command and do her own first aid and get pickier about her opponents and it goes really well until about a century later, when she's getting bored and is out quelling bandit activity in North 80 and unexpectedly gets into the fight of her life...

12. Uhin and Kinroku rapidly become friends through the shared commiserating of "I wouldn't be a gangster if the government actually worked". Also, every army ever in history steals each other's supplies. It's a good way to keep costs down AND fuck up your enemies. Amateurs think tactics, but wars are won and lost on Logistics. Uhin also was the co-commander of Danjiro's roadways project, and quite the gastronome, and passed the tradition of "good food, and lots of it" down to other 12th division captains, though this sometimes manifests in strange ways.

13. Actually I was thinking Sakahone smote that clan for trafficking, but I like your idea of "death cult" too- no reason it can't be both! Sakahone is a Kido guy first and foremost, and between his ridiculous power and the way he keeps failing to die means many of the others suspected that he was some kind of minor god that decided to get married and take up farming. Sakahone manages to live for an appallingly long time, all the way to his 2,222nd birthday before deciding he'd had enough and ended the short war with the Quincy in the 1800's by handing the post to his lieutenant, Jushiro Ukitake, and then exploding. Despite having two captains that look like they're on the verge of death, the 13th actually has some of the lowest employee turnover.

So, how exactly was the Gotei 13 formed in AEIWAM?

(The original gotei-13 captains might have canon genders but I'm going off vibes tbh.) (Here's a collection of Kubo's art of the original 13 so you can see what everyone looks like)

-----

It had started with the Clans.

Actually, it had started when Shigekuni Yamamoto was mugged for the fourth time in as many days, by agents of The Great Noble Houses, trying to influence the tide of their endless petty wars. You could hardly blame him for reacting as he did, somewhat literally blowing up with rage, and upon his return to his home office, rallying his fellow distraught men into a fighting force to stand up to the clans.

It had been quite a popular manuver for him, with the equally distraught and downtrodden citizens of the central rukongai threw their support behind him in short order. He was already well-known to them, and respected for his work. In a few short years, his meager forces had grown to rival the clans in power.

Then the Quincies had invaded the Spirit World, lead by some horrible creature known as Yhwach, seemingly Hell-Bent on conquest- which is where all of them would end up if The Archery Bastards kept shooting everything that moved and upended the balance between the worlds.

Now-General Shigekuni Yamamoto, the unfortunate bastard to whom the task of defending the largest city in the Spirit world from invasion had fallen, needed some muscle.

Why me, of all people? Surely there were others more qualified? He wondered, staring at the latest round of reports from the meager handful of his men that remained. Or perhaps everyone smart enough to actually do this is also smart enough to realize it was a lost cause and had thrown their lot in with one of the Noble Houses, and I am on a fool's errand.

Even just a handful of warriors with sufficient strength could break the leading edge of the Quincy line, and let the small army that remained slip behind them in to cut the Quincies off from their supply lines. It was just that breaking the wall of archers required at least a dozen of him.

"Word from lieutenant Sasakibe!" Shouted one of his soldiers, sprinting in the door and thrusting a letter at him. "Sorry sir I just remembered how important it was that you heard from him as soon as possible."

"You did as I asked." Yamamoto nodded, opening the letter. He had needed to stay- both to recover from his injuries and because if the Quincy got much closer, using Ryujin jakka to create a wall of fire around the city might be the only way to hold them off- and he had tasked Chojiro Sasakibe, his Longest and Dearest friend, with finding him the strongest warriors in Soul Society.

He took the scroll and opened it, reading the neat but excitably slanted handwriting within-

Dearest Shigekuni,

I am relieved to report I have found a dozen extremely powerful warriors per your request! I went on a hunch a friend of mine had, and found a concentration of MANY powerful warriors that would be willing to aid our cause, but twelve among them are particularly standout candidates. Given the rapid advance of the Quincy Army, I have included a teleportation spell to their location at the end of this scroll so you may meet them immediately.

"Incredible!" Yamamoto laughed. "Is there nothing this man cannot do?"

I do beg of you though- Please, reserve your judgement of them until you have seen their capacity.

"Ah." Yamamoto sighed. "...of course there's a catch."

Their circumstances are... complex, and this has made many of them rough and peculiar to speak to, but I swear we will not find better warriors, at least not before the Quincy advance reaches Seireitei.

I await your arrival, Chojiro

Yamamoto unfurled the scroll a bit more to see the edge of the teleportation spell that would activate when exposed to sunlight. "Sir?" asked the young soldier.

"It seems Sasakibe was successful in finding me the assistance we need, but they are apparently a queer lot." Yamamoto rumbled, thinking. "There is a teleportation spell- How close did you say the Advance was?"

"Not more than a week out, sir."

"Hopefully less than two hours then." he grunted, standing up and carrying the scroll to the courtyard of the building he operated from- it was a place used to the many comings and goings of a large and complex organization, though the little Shrine to the God of Messages and messengers had been somewhat neglected of late. Yamamoto took a moment to sweep the leaves out of the shrine and bowed to the statue within, thanking it for delivering Sasakibe's message and asking for help delivering him to his friend.

"Any orders while you're away, Sir?" The soldier asked.

"Someone clean out that shrine and make it a proper offering. The last thing we need is for communications to go down." The General nodded.

"Yes Sir!" the soldier saluted.

Yamamoto unfurled the scroll and with a flash, vanished from the courtyard.

---

With the same flash, he appeared somewhere... foggy.

"Shigekuni?" a familiarly crisp voice asked somewhere in the ether.

"Chojiro?" Yamamoto called back, and the vague shape that might have been a rock in front of him stood up, arms open. He laughed, and embraced his friend. "Good job! How did you find them so fast?"

Sasakibe's warm smile suddenly stiffened into a grimace. "...Promise you will not be angry?"

"Chojiro?" Yamamoto frowned.

"See, I was asking my friends- only the most trusted of them, I swear- how to even go about finding warriors with everything scattered to the wind of late, and well- One of them suggested that only things that are powerful are widely feared, so look where fearsome things are to find powerful ones."

Yamamoto squinted at his friend, then around them at the dense fog, the strange rocky cliff beside them, and the distant sound of angry voices.

"Chojiro." Yamamoto asked, hands on his shoulders. "Where are we?"

Sasakibe pointed up behind Yamamoto where characters had been carved into the stone cliff.

The Nest Of Maggots

"Chojiro."

"Yes, sir?"

"This is a prison."

"Yes, sir."

"This is a prison for the kind of filth that even the most bitterly factious clans agree is a danger to have wandering around. The kind that they already tried and failed to weaponize against each other. This is a prison for Monsters."

"...Yes, sir." Sasakibe sighed. "-But, is is not monsters we need?"

Yamamoto was silent for a time, thinking of the swathes of pointless destruction- salted fields and burnt villages- of the senseless loss of life- slaughtering soldier and civilian alike down to the last man, woman and child- of the cruel and twisted powers of the chosen favorites of Yhwach.

"Monsters to fight monsters." He shook his head. "What is this world coming to?" Yamamoto sighed.

Sasakibe looked away, unable to meet his friend's gaze. "Still, beggars can't be choosers." Yamamoto nodded. "Show them to me."

--- All twelve "Most Dangerous" of The Nest's prisoners had been herded together into something approximating a straight line in the middle of the rocky cavern that housed the prisoners here, though some of them were already beginning to meander, and one woman near the end of the line had, rather rudely, decided to remain seated in Yamamoto's presence. The lineup was... less than impressive. Two of the women looked like they belonged on pinup posters rather than death row. One of the men looked like a washed-up Sumo, another like an ashtray that had been cursed to roam the afterlife as a human. On one end of the line was an ancient and decrepit old man, and on the other was a- Yamamoto wasn't actually sure if they were a man or a woman, but in another life, they had definitely been a cat.

"These are the most powerful fighters in the Spirit World?" He muttered to Chojiro.

"These are the most still-alive-est fighters in the Spirit World." Chojiro clarified.

"...Fuck it. " Yamamoto sighed under his breath, before stepping forward and addressing them properly.

"I am General Shigekuni Yamamoto of The Seireitei. I don't know how long you've been in this hole-" Yamamoto paused, sensing that something was off.

None of the Prisoners were looking at him. In fact, the all seemed very dedicated to looking everywhere but at him. Some were inspecting the stalactites, others were examining the grit on the cave floor, or staring into the metaphysical abyss somewhere just over his shoulder, and one man had pulled his very silly straw hat down in front of his face.

"-Alright, what the hell is going on?" Yamamoto growled.

There was a general unenthusiastic sort of shuffling and a distinct lack of answers.

"Remember everyone!" The man next to the cat-in-human-form spoke up while examining his fingernails. He looked more like an accountant than someone who belonged on Death Row, but the others perked up and paid attention. "-We are not to speak to any guards of visitors until our representative arrives and has given us permission to do so." The others nodded and resumed looking anywhere but at Yamamoto.

"...Representative?" Sasakibe lightly growled at a guard, whose complexion went from 'ashen' to 'deathly'.

"They um. Well. They've gotten rather close to one of the other prisoners, but she's no good in a fight, so we left her-" The Guard sputtered under Sasakibe's withering glare.

"-Miss Tsubaki was waiting at the Primary gate last I saw her." continued the man who looked like an accountant and that Yamamoto was becoming increasingly sure was armed, despite allegedly having been searched and denied any tools in his confinement. "...I say to no-one in particular." He added.

There was a moment of silence.

Yamamoto struck the tired-looking, gray-haired young woman beside the accountant, sending her stumbling back, but the accountant and the sturdily-built blonde man beside her stepped in to catch her, the rest of the line snapping to attention, eyes fixed on him with utter rage.

"Now that I have your attention-" Yamamoto started again, the gray-haired woman coughing as the sturdy blonde helped her back to her feet. "-As I was saying, the Spirit World is being invaded, and you're all being conscripted to-"

"Yachiru!" Snapped a young woman behind them.

Yamamoto turned to glare at the interloper, but instead found that the gaunt-looking woman that had remained seated had somehow apparently teleported and tackled Sasakibe to the wall behind them, one arm pressed to his throat, slowly choking him. Apparently-Yachiru's other hand had put some substantial holes in his abdomen and she paused from where she was about to stark licking Sasakibe's blood off her fingers to look at who had spoken.

"Don't eat that! You don't know where it's been!" Said a waifish young woman in threadbare prisoner's robes who could not have been taller than 4'10". She was quite striking, with large, dark eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a long aquiline nose. She took Yachiru's bloodied hand and dragged her back to the group. Yamamoto tried to keep his pace even as he walked over to check on Sasakibe, who immediately sat up and waved him off.

"...Thirsty." Grunted Yachiru- She might also have been beautiful, with her pale, round face and smooth black hair, were it not for the haunted, carnivorous look in her eye and her apparently literal bloodthirst. She stopped halfway back to the group to give a wet, hacking cough that made Yamamoto's skin crawl, and spat out a gob of bloody phlegm on the floor.

"You'll feel better when you get Minazuki back." the young woman reassured her, helping Yachiru sit back down, the others taking seats on the stone floor as well, in two neat lines behind her, the Human Cat behind one shoulder, the Accountant behind the other. "Is everyone else alright?"

"Kinroku definitely did not tell the guards to go get you." announced the man from behind his straw hat. "Also the mean old man hit Chigiri."

"I understand. Do you need assistance, Chigiri?

"The Old Goat has a sucker-punch like a rocket but I'll live." grunted Chigri, rubbing her abdomen and waving her hand interrogatively at Yachiru, who shrugged in reply.

"Despicable Behavior, hitting a medic." the human ashtray sniffed disapprovingly. Yamamoto could feel the Reiatsu of the group now, previously held in check, now starting to unfurl and growl and snarl at him.

"You BASTARDS-!" Yamamoto snarled, lunging towards the young woman, who instinctively made a fist in front of her chest, grabbed it with her other hand, and swung her whole body around, slamming her elbow into his eye socket and nose, and he stumbled, falling to his knees. It wasn't that hard a hit, not compared to what he was used to, but there was genuine killing intent behind it, much like the heel she struck into the side of his head, knocking him over the rest of the way in surprise. Miss Tsubaki's large, dark eyes were full of rage as she glared down at him, grinding his head into the floor under her toes. "Ah." He said, finally recognizing her from images in the intermittent news bulletins. Tsubaki was a middle daughter of one of the most powerful of the Noble Houses who had suddenly vanished from public view the year before. The rumor was that she had been imprisoned by her father for dangerous activities like 'Going Places' and 'Writing Letters' or even 'Having Opinions'. It was apparently true, but if she'd managed to organize the dirtiest dozen of the Maggot's Nest, he was beginning to understand her father's choice of internment. "Miss Tsunayashiro, I presume."

"I am her, and I am here in my capacity as their Union Representative. This means you do not talk to them. You talk to me." She lightly snarled, removing her surprisingly sharp-heeled foot from his temple and sitting seiza in front of the group. "Now what is it that you have brought us here to discuss?"

"Your friends are getting conscripted." he glared, slowly getting up and standing to address her. Returning the blow to a civilan, no matter who her family was or how hard she hit, was beneath either of their dignity, but a little looming was alright.

"We're getting hired." She corrected him. "With proper contracts and compensation."

"Shut up or else." He snarled, reconsidering the value of his dignity.

"...Or else what, exactly?" She asked.

Yamamoto bristled, and slowly drew his sword. Tsunayashiro's gaze flicked to the blade, following it's gleam as he brought it up to her throat, tipping her chin up with the point. "-Or you will all die right here." Tsubaki closed her eyes, sighed deeply and opened them again, gaze fixed on his. He could feel her pulse through Ryujin Jakka's blade.

...Steady as a rock.

"Alright." She spoke evenly. "Strike me down."

Yamamoto blinked.

"We are already on Death Row, General." She explained slowly as though speaking to an idiot. "None of us have families to speak of, or to speak to, for you to threaten. We're already cold and barely allowed to sleep and starving and in constant pain from broken bones or missing organs or untreated injuries. We are all already doomed to die or suffer gross abasement. You, however-"

She slowly stood up, neck sliding a bit on Ryujin Jakka's blade, drawing a trickle of blood.

"-I've been in here for the better part of a year, I believe, but news trickles in. Guards leave to replace soldiers fallen on the battlefield. Rations dwindle as farmland is overrun or destroyed. Political prisoners are freed and returned home as more popular heirs and scions are killed. You, General Shigekuini Yamamoto, need help with this war, and need it badly, to come here for it." Tsubaki continued, stepping forward and pressing a bit more into the blade, the trickle running more strongly, down her throat and into the folds of her thin Yukakta, staining the fabric bright red.

"So go on. Strike us down." She spoke softly. "Spare us the Humiliation of a Public execution or the horrors of a lobotomy, and doom yourself."

Yamamoto, quite possibly for the first time in his life, hesitated.

"If you cannot do that, sit down and negotiate like a civilized person." She said. The blood stained her entire breast now, but she did not flinch or waver.

Slowly, glaring and refusing to break eye contact, he withdrew his blade, wiped it down and sheathed it. Teeth gritted and heart unexpectedly racing, he sat. Lady Tsunayashiro followed, head still held high, though that may have been so Chigiri could lean forward and press a pad of torn robe to her throat, stemming the bleeding as she bandaged it, muttering curses.

"We're being invaded by an army of mutant humans called "Quincy" who can shoot arrows made of pure reishi, which can obliterate a soul entirely. They're lead by some monster called Yhwach, who seems hell-bent on conquering the entirety of the Living and Spirit worlds, and is apparently capable of killing small gods and Kami." Yamamoto explained, trying to stress the depth of the situation. He'd never been in a labor negotiation before, and was hoping they'd be more reasonable if he made an emotional appeal. "Kill enough of the archery bastards and live, and I'll have all your crimes pardoned."

"What a shame, what a shame." clucked the old man at the far end of the lines. "You young people just don't know how to handle things..."

"Hmmm..." The person who was definitely at least spiritually a cat pursed their lips. "Oh, uh- Chika Shihon." the bowed their head. "-It's a good start, but I'm gonna need a hell of a payday, seeing as nobody will hire an ex-criminal, even a pardoned one, and about forty more people need to die before my family will consider taking me back in."

"As well as some form of protection from political reprisals, or there won't be an opportunity to spend any of that payday." said Kinroku the Accountant, rubbing his nose like he was going to push up a pair of glasses he wasn't wearing.

"Paying criminals? Surely, you can't be serious!" Sasakibe scoffed.

"I am serious, and my name is Tsubaki, not Shirley." The representative quietly smirked at him. "Well, General? What price are you willing to offer for the salvation of all of Soul Society?"

"I want to see some proof before we talk price." Yamamoto glared at the Death Row From The Dumpster before him.

"Fair enough." Nodded Tsubaki, turning her head to address the group. "After me, who would you all say is the weakest fighter?"

The group considered this for a moment.

"Strongest is easy, its Yachiru, even with the missing lung." waved the pinup girl with the eyepatch and pigtails.

"Give Uhin some credit!" Protested the other pinup girl with the tits that were individually larger than her head.

"That's sweet of you to say Batsu-" Uhin the Giant in the back row laughed, patting the second girl's head. "-But also holy shit, no. Yachiru could disembowel me and strangle me with my own intestines before I could get off the mark! No offense little man, but I think it's Furuoki." He said, patting the straw hat of the man in front of him.

"Really?" Tits McGee pondered. "I was going to say Nobutsuna."

"I was gonna say me too." announced the human ashtray with a rough and reedy voice. "I hate fighting." "Yeah, but you hit like a fuckin' rockslide. Yeah, it's Furuoki." Agreed eyepatch.

"Mr. Otogawa-" Tsubaki addressed Furuoki the hat man. "-It's rather dark in here, would you please let in some light?"

Furuoki blinked at her, confused.

"Show the old man you can punch a hole in the ceiling." Yachiru translated for him, wetly.

"Okay!" Furuoki chirped happily, getting up and walking a few feet away.

"MORE!" yelled the group.

"Over by the guard tower!" Encouraged the large and rather jolly looking man, save for how he seemed to have lost both his lips and most of the front of his mouth, but had only bothered to replace his missing teeth with gold ones, giving him a permanent lipless grin.

Furuoki walked over towards the guard tower until the guards approached him and told him to back up, paced a bit until he found a suitable middle ground, and squinted up at the ceiling.

"Sir-" Sighed the head guard walking towards Furuoki as frowned at the ceiling. "Sir that's half a mile of solid rock and twelve different magical wards above you. It's not gonna work."

Furuoki instead dropped down on one knee, aimed, and-

A dazzling blue-green light and a noise like the roaring fires of Hell Itself erupted from his fist as he punched up towards the ceiling, vaporizing the stone above him and making all 12 wards chime and tinkle like glass as he broke through them. As the mushroom cloud of dust dispersed, sunlight began to filter in through the hole, at least 100 feet in diameter. The top third of the Guard tower seemed to have evaporated as well, and the guards were scrambling to try to control the panic.

"Is that enough?" Furuoki called.

"...Is it, General?" miss Tsubaki asked.

"...Ten Thousand Kan?" Yamamoto tried.

"That's fine dear, please come sit back down." Tsubaki waved.

"I am surprised, general." She smiled at Yamamoto in a way that reminded him uncomfortably of they way the post office cat would smile at the mice. "Ten Thousand Kan annually per individual is a very reasonable offer."

"A one-time payment of Ten thousand Kan to be split between the group." he growled.

"No." She shook he head. "You're offering us annual salaries, individually."

"The hell I am."

"Then we will enjoy watching the collapse of civilization through the new Skylight Furuoki made us." She replied, unconcerned. "You may have noticed, General, that there is a war on, and this is an exceptionally safe and secure place to be. Make it worth leaving."

"-Two minutes ago this was a frozen hellhole you were all starving in." he glared.

"Ah, but the view and property value has improved substantially in the last two minutes!" She smiled, unconcerned with his complaints. "There is no punishment you could mete out that is worse than remaining here, General, but you are not an advancing army of superhuman mutants, and there are MANY things the Quincy can do to us that are worse than remaining here. You are in a most unenviable position."

Yamamoto grimaced. "You're sure this is the best there is?" he muttered to Sasakibe.

"We could also try swearing loyalty to one noble house and hoping the other four don't try to kill us before the Quincy do." Sasakibe grunted, hand over the puncture wounds in his guts. "I don't like it either. but I like our other options even less."

Yamamoto sighed. "...Five thousand Kan Annually per individual."

"Ten thousand." replied Tsubaki.

"Seven thousand."

"Ten thousand."

"That's not how this is supposed to go." Yamamoto grumbled.

"And yet, this is how it's going." She smirked. "There is also the matter of the political protections!"

"DAMMIT!"

---

Half an hour later, terms had been reached.

Full pardons, Ten Thousand Kan, annually per individual (plus expenses), and political protections in the form of employing them as commanding officers on the condition that they "-Don't get killed, and prove you're smarter than a sack of hammers and at least half as useful."

"No for real, I'll forgive the old man the gut punch, lemme do something so you're not bleedin' all over my contract?" Chigiri sighed, watching Sasakibe write up the contracts.

"I'll trust my body to keep my guts on the right side of my skin over someone's dirty socks." he sighed. "Or do you have something else on hand?"

"Minazuki." Muttered Yachiru, leaning heavily on Chigiri.

"Oh right! I keep forgetting she does the fish thing." Chigiri perked up. "Yeah tell the guards to go get her sword, it turns into a... fuckin' whatsit, the big flat fish? Turns into one of those that can heal anything."

"Again, I trust my own faculties over any sort of Healing Halibut." Chojiro groaned.

"Stingray." Yachiru muttered, wheezing a bit. "Minazuki is a stingray."

"Alright, back in line everyone- I need you all to confirm your identities and what crimes you need pardoned, and to sign your contracts." Sasakibe sighed, standing up with the contracts and handing the first to Yamamoto.

"Shigekuni Yamamoto, Dereliction of duty and Mail-tampering, among other assorted sins." He said, smirking a bit at his own joke as he took the contract.

"Thank you sir." Sasakibe sighed, shuffling the pile of folders containing the files of the dozen criminals, and stepping up to the first one.

"Chika Shihon-" He read off, matching the drawn portrait to the person in front of him- Chika was a rather handsome young thing, with warm bronze skin and short, soft white hair. It was the gleam in their yellow eyes that made Sasakibe worry. "- Sentenced to lifetime imprisonment or death for staging a clan coup, twelve counts of fratricide and... dabbling in forbidden Kido?"

"Oh, like you've never had a family dinner that got out of control!" Chika huffed, indignant.

"I'm more curious about the Kido, actually." Yamamoto said, peering over his file.

Chika beamed and Sasakibe got as far as a choked "NOT HERE-!" before they vanished in a cloud of smoke. When it cleared, they were still wearing the same excited expression, but now as a small white house cat.

Sasakibe and Yamamoto stared at the cat for a moment, then at each other in a mutual expression of I can't believe we've been reduced to asking these freaks for help.

"Well, when you've got thumbs again, please read your contract, then sign and initial all the indicated areas, and swipe your blood across the bottom." Sasakibe sighed, bending over to hand the kitty their contract. "Remember, these contracts are legally and magically binding. Betray us, and die immediately."

"Next is- Kinroku Izuhara-" Sasakibe was interrupted by one of guards appearing with the confiscated personal belongings of the prisoners, including an entire bundle of swords under his arm.

"I understand not giving us our weapons until the contracts are signed and the seal is placed upon us, but may I have my glasses back?" Kinroku asked, voice crisp and arch. He was certainly the least ragged-looking of the group, his graying hair still neatly trimmed and face clean-shaven.

Yamamoto held out a hand and the guard placed the appropriate glasses in his palm. "Trade you for whatever you have that's kept you so clean-shaven it's making my mustache itch." Yamamoto glared.

Kinroku smirked, and produced a piece of bone that had been exquisitely sharpened into a razor's edge.

"This is a human bone." Yamamoto observed.

"Unfortunately, poorer quality than the bones of pigs or cattle in terms of holding an edge, but it's done it's job." Kinrku nodded.

"...This says you're on death row for ...Tax Evasion?" Sasakibe glared at the file as the blade was traded for the glasses.

"Yes. I made an unfortunate miscalculation regarding the loyalty of my men, so I am glad you are taking adequate precautions." Kinroku muttered, cleaning his glasses on his robe, holding them up to the dim sunlight filtering through the hole, and frowning, disappointed.

"Men?" Yamamoto asked. "You've had experience commanding armed forces before?"

"After a fashion." he said, signing the contract and biting into his thumb to finish the deal. "You've heard of The Vipers of the southern reaches?"

"The decentralized bandit gang that disbanded a few years back? I thought their leader had died?" Sasakibe frowned.

Kinroku smirked at him.

"...Oh, for fuckssake." Sasakibe groaned.

"Chigiri Shijima." Yamamoto read off, having already moved on. "...What the hell kind of charge is Aggravated Medical Research?"

"Can't make an emergency field medicine manual omlette without breaking a few bones. And causing a few disembowelments. And poking out a few eyes." She explained.

Yamamoto slowly arched an eyebrow at her.

"I PUT 'EM ALL BACK!" Chigiri protested. "...Eventually."

"Read. Sign. Blood." Yamamoto sighed, handing her the contract.

"For real though, your man okay? I can have those stitched in under a minute." Chigiri pointed her thumb at Sasakibe.

"That's some fast-acting painkillers." Sasakibe noted.

"What painkillers?" Chigiri asked, genuinely confused.

"...I'll take my chances with the halibut." Sasakibe winced, turning to the next man in line. "Danjiro Obana?"

"Yeah!" Grinned the sturdy-looking blonde man, all smiles and friendliness now that an agreement had been reached. "Lookin' forward to workin' with you guys!"

"...Imprisoned for cannibalism?" Sasakibe asked, horrified.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" Danjiro hollered, voice echoing around the cavern.

"How do you accidentally consume human flesh?" Yamamoto glared.

"Well- okay it wasn't an 'accident' per se, but look, that Ise Clan guy locked me in the family mausoleum to die, and understandably, I got the munches, and the coffins were fulla, eh... post-sapient jerky?" Danjiro explained. "I really don't know what he expected to happen. Really surprised when he opened up the door a month later and I gut punched his spine out though. I don't regret that one bit."

"You know? That's fair." decided Sasakibe, handing him a contract. "Read, sign, blood."

"Yessir!" Danjiro saluted happily.

"Furufoshi Saito?" Yamamoto asked the young woman with the purple pigtails and eyepatch that was next in line.

"I DID NOT 'KIDNAP' HIM, HE'S MY HUSBAND AND THEY'RE ALL A BUNCH OF PRICKS!" She roared.

Yamamoto blinked at her, then leaned over to read "Accused of Abducting and 'Deflowering' the eldest son of the Kuchiki clan' on her file. "...Care to elaborate on that?"

"I found poor Kyoga-kun half-dead on my doortstep after the battle of River Bo- he still had spears in him, the poor thing! So like a sane and reasonable person I took him in and nursed the sweet thing back to heath and- well, a beautiful man in my bed, grateful to me for saving his life and offering me his eternal love and gratitude- How could a girl resist?" She sighed, hearts in her remaining eye.

"-and since I'd carried him over the threshold into my home we were basically married already, so it wasn't wrong of me to ride him like a pony or violate his warranty like that! He loved it! He loves ME! AND I LOVE HIM! It's just that the rest of the Kuchiki clan are a bunch of snobs with no sense of romance." She sighed, melancholy, then looked up at him, chewing her lip in nervousness. "...You haven't. heard anything about him?"

Yamamoto considered her story, and the few times he'd met Kyoga Kuchiki- a delicate young man with a sense of romantic grandeur and when he'd seen the boy recently, he had been lying facedown on the floor and sobbing, in quite some distress over being separated from his beloved-

"...Daddy Bear?" Yamamoto asked, bewildered.

"MY LITTLE BABY BEAR REMEMBERS ME!" She shrieked with joy, "Is he alright? I've been so worried, he still wasn't over that septic infection and the war keeps getting closer-" She demanded, grabbing Yamamoto by his Kosode and shaking him for answers.

"-As of last month, he was distraught over your absence, but otherwise hale. The sooner the Quincy are dead, the sooner you can see him again. Read, sign, blood." Yamamoto said, detangling himself from her and putting the contract between them.

"Ah, Ever-turbulent but true runs the course of Love." sighed the charred man beside her. "Nobotsuna Shigyo, at your service." he introduced himself, bowing politely.

"I'm Batsu'unsai Katori- We were arrested and imprisoned for roughly the same incident and it may help to be introduced at the same time." Said the woman with the exceptionally large breasts beside him. "Um, I'll need my glasses back too- Oh, thank you!"

"The sight of sunlight is so strange after such time." Mused Nobotsuna. "Even before our imprisonment, the Lady Katori and I were leaders of a secret underground society!"

"It was less of a society and more of a Polycule that got out of control-" Explained Batsu'unsai. "Once I discovered by spiritual powers, I moved in with the great sage Shou Dokutsu, and began hanging out with and then dating other people with spiritual powers and they started bringing their partners to my district and pretty soon there were so many of us that the easiest way to house everyone was to start developing the extensive underground cave systems in the area."

"We manufactured many fine magical artifacts, so called ourselves The Under-Wares!" Said Nobotsuna.

"We actually called ourselves The Kido Union, because in addition to the magical tools, we formed a united labor front to keep the clans from exploiting us." She explained, and Yamamoto began to understand her interruption.

"I am the wise Loremaster of our people!" Said Nobutsuna.

"He's a stablehand." Batsu'unsai smiled.

"But the clans did not like that they were no longer able to exploit and abuse us now that we had allied in great numbers, and war came to our peaceful nation of Shou's Hole!" he said, with genuine sadness.

Yamamoto and Sasakibe looked back at Batsu'unsai.

"It actually is called Shou's Hole." she sighed. "He just wanted it so badly."

"I wore them down!" Notbotsuna grinned.

"Still, the clans did not like that they now had to pay to have magical labor done and that we would outright refuse their more barbaric requests, and eventually I think it was the Shibas that mounted an all-out assault on us. Last I heard, most of the Union made it out through the other exits from the caves, but Dokutsu-san and most of our heavy hitters stayed at the primary entrance to buy time. Nobotsuna and I were the only ones to survive the assault, and Hiraku Shiba had us thrown in here." Batsu'unsai sighed.

"Prick." Spat Nobotsuna. "Oh sure, when a head of one of the so-called 'Noble' houses goes around decapitating people and burning them alive it's considered 'honorable combat' and 'keeping the peace', but when I, a man whose family tree isn't a fucking wreath of incest, retaliates in a decidedly less lethal fashion suddenly its 'treason' and 'making up a spell called Penis Blast is a war crime'!!"

"-What kind of blast?" asked Sasakibe.

"He can demonstrate it for us on The Archery Bastards. Read, sign, blood." Yamamoto said, thrusting contracts at them.

"Entetsu Kumoi." Read off Sasakibe as they came to the bald man who was nearly as wide as he was tall, with the exposed gold teeth. Entetsu looked up from where he'd finished putting his glasses back on and arranged his hairless brows into something that indicated that he'd be smiling politely if he had lips. "Imprisoned for your participation in the riot at the Windroad House, where you..." Sasakibe frowned at the file. "-Attacked and killed one hudred fifty-seven town guards with a brick, and mounted an assault on the local Dyamo?"

"Always morally correct, hittin' cops with bricks." Nodded Entetsu. "-Specially ones comin' t' kill just because some people are out havin' a good time, doin' no harm to no-one."

"The Windroad House is a Bar in the 3rd district famous for it's ah. Exotic. Cabaret performances." Sasakibe explained to Yamamoto, who didn't get out much.

"You were. At one of these performances?' Yamamoto asked.

"Ah, nah- just gotten off the job and had nipped down to the pub across th'way for a pint when I saw the pigs kick in the door an' start dragggin' the ladies out and I thought 'well that ain't right', so I started throwin' bricks until I were on me last brick and then I hunted them down wit' that last brick until there were none left." he explained. "Then I thinks, 'well, there's only none left until more come from the station', so's I made me way up the road to the station wit' me brick and had me a little hogslaughter up there too, see?"

"...And you just. kept going?" Sasakiba asked.

"So's I did! Right up to the head hog's trough, though by then it were well early in the mornin' and I were tired an' had some dozen spears in me back and me brick had fallen apart, so's I dinna get hims haunches fer ham." Entetsu sighed.

"Persistence! Very good quality in a captain!" Grinned Yamamoto, handing him the contract. "You know what to do by now."

They turned to the rather comely young man with the straw hat. "Furuoki, was it?" Yamamoto asked, feeling something that wasn't hopeful, per se, but these were strong people, and deeply insane and they were agreeing to help him, something that made his heart race with a delirious sort of mania.

"Yes. I am Furuoki Otogawa." he nodded.

"-And you're imprisoned here for- ecological terrorism, defiling holy a holy site and creating a dangerous magical device?" Sasakibe asked.

"What?" asked Yachiru, getting back to her feet and leaning heavily on him. "You told me you were in here for Jaywalking?"

"I thought I was?" Said Furuoki, frowning and tipping his head with confusion.

"It says here you constructed a device over the Tenjo no Ganbo waterfalls to, ah- 'suck up the carp in the pool at the base of the waterfall and launch them, at speed, up and over the waterfall'." Sasakibe read off and looked up to see Furuoki staring into the distance, eyes watering.

"They wanted to get to the lake at the top so badly they were swimming up the waterfall, but they kept falling down and getting hurt!" he sobbed, overcome with emotion. "I just made a chute to safely carry them to the top and gently toss them in the lake! how is that a crime?"

"-because when a carp makes it to the top of Tenjo no Ganbo falls, IT TURNS INTO A DRAGON! YOU MADE HUNDREDS OF DRAGONS SUDDENLY APPEAR! THOUSANDS BEFORE THEY COULD DISMANTLE THE DAMN THING!!" Sasakibe shouted.

"Ohhh." Furuoki said, nodding. "-I'd wondered where all the dragons had come from. I still don't see why that's a crime though?"

"Gods help us." Groaned Yamamoto.

"Dragons tend to be. Kinda destructive." Yachiru spoke slowly, her voice still rough and hollow-sounding. " 'specially to little villages."

"Oh." Furuoki said quietly, horrified.

"Don't worry, I'll deal with them once I get my lung back and bust outta this joint." Yachiru reassured him as Sasakibe handed Furuoki his contract.

"You wont be 'busting out' of anywhere, miss-" Sasakibe suffled the papers to open her file. "-Yachiru Unohana! You're obligated to serve General Yamamoto in exchange for your freedom, seeing as you're imprisoned for- for-"

Sasakibe froze, staring at the file. "-That has to be a Mistake."

"What?" Grunted Yamamoto, sizing the woman up. According to the group, if Furuoki who could rip this heavily fortified prison open like an ant's nest was their weakest fighter, this sickly-looking woman was their strongest.

"The file says she's imprisoned for killing ten thousand people!" babbled Sasakibe.

"Oh, no, that isn't right." grunted Yachiru, and Sasakibe sighed with relief.

"-Should be closer to twelve or fifteen thousand." She clarified, and Sasakibe went white.

"Read, sign, mark with your blood at the bottom." Yamamoto sighed, thrusting the contract at her.

"Uhhh... can't." She said, staring blankly at the contract, then slowly looking up at Yamamoto.

"What do you mean 'can't'?" he growled.

"I can't read." she said.

Sasakibe hid his face in his hands, groaning with pain, while Yamamoto turned on his heel and threw his hands in the air, silently beseeching any available Gods for help.

"You get what you pay for, General." Called Chika, having changed back into the clothes they'd arrived in- garish red-orange and black ninja garb of the Shihon clan- and tying their sword back onto their gaudy belt.

"I am paying all of you a frankly OBSCENE amount of money, I don't think it's unreasonable to expect basic literacy!" Yamamoto snapped.

"It's okay girl, I'll read it to you and then you can have Minazuki back, okay?" Chigiri volunteered, wrapping an arm around her illiterate compatriot and walking her back to some seat-height rocks.

"Let's just get this over with." Yamamoto sighed, glaring at Tsubaki, who only smiled serenely back at him. "Uhin Zenjoji?"

"Present, sir." Beamed the enormous man who looked like a professional Sumo wrestler- there was fat, lots of it, but underneath, an unsettlingly steady grace and power to his movements.

"Your file says you're imprisoned for Smuggling, Murder, Bootlegging, Murder, Trafficking, Murder, More murder and... one hundred seventy two violations of The Migratory Bird Act?"

"The only two I will dispute are the trafficking and migratory bird charges-" he said, delicately holding up two fingers. "-firstly, it's not trafficking to move refugees from the clan wars out of danger without giving the aforementioned clans a cut. I'm no pimp."

"And the birds?" Yamamoto glared, intrigued more than anything.

"A man may have his hobbies and his charitable works!" Uhin said, touching his hand to his chest in faux-impassioned speech. "I collect and breed rare and endangered birds- the world would a sadder place without their songs. So I have- well, had- an aviary up in the mountains where they could be propagated in peace." Uhin sighed.

"Huh. Something nearly bordering on sanity." said Sasakibe said, offering Uhin his contract.

"Got any of them- whatsit- the big kicky bitches?" Danjiro asked.

"Cassowaries?" Uhin asked. "But of course! Delightful little creatures."

Yamamoto decided he didn't hear that, actually, and turned his attention to the final member of the dirty dozen.

"Hello young man!" the decrepit old man creaked cheerfully. "I am Saizo Sakahone." he was bald, liver-spotted, missing teeth and had a spine that bowed like a fishing rod with something much too large for the boat on the end of the line.

"Sakahone like the province?" asked Yamamoto, remembering the western area he'd traveled through recently.

"...In a manner of speaking, I suppose?" Saizo grinned. "Though it's rather the other way around- my lovely wife, may she rest in peace, managed to bear me no less than sixteen beautiful daughters, and they bore at least a dozen granddaughters and so on- Why, by my one thousand one hundred and eleventy-eth birthday, I had somewhere over fifty thousand descendants! So I am not so much named after the province, as the province is named after me!" he chucked.

"...by the Gods." marveled Sasakibe.

"Look, I love my sword too but at least I take it out of the scabbard sometimes." sighed Yamamoto. "What're you in for, family man?"

"O-ho! Now that was quite rash of me, I'm afraid. Yes-" Saizo nodded, rubbing his gnarled-oak hands. "-but as you say, I am a family man and there is nothing I despise so much as someone who does violence to children. No, no, nothing more vile in the world than that..."

Yamamoto felt Sasakibe go stiff beside him, and glanced over. Sasakibe tipped the file closer for his friend to read.

"-The total annihilation of the Uchimaki clan?" Yamamoto asked.

"I was born a shepherd, my boy. My people have been herding cattle over the hills of my province since there were cattle and hills to herd them over. When rot and madness like that turns up in a line- you need to cull backwards at least three generations or it'll set root and spread through your whole herd." he sighed. "What a shame, what a shame, but it had to be done, or they would have learned to turn a profit, treating children like that, and then we'd never be rid of it."

"I saw the crater. Half a mile deep and three times as wide." Said Yamamoto, mustache trembling. "I thought the wrath of the Gods themselves had descended upon them."

"Hm." Saizo nodded, jaw trembling a bit with palsy. "Hm, yes. That's what it felt like."

"Would you like to feel it again?" Yamamoto asked.

"No." Saizo shook his head, but slowly straightened up as much as he could- he must have been close to seven feet tall before the scoliosis set in- flexing his hands and rolling his neck, the power held withing that body starting to come off him in shimmering golden steam. "-but if that's what it takes for me to go home again, then I will be the tool of the Gods once more."

Yamamoto offered him the contract, and did not need to give him instructions.

Behind them, there was a quiet but extremely invasive wet noise and Yamamoto turned to see Unohana unsheath her... well, it lived in a scabbard but it was a muddy green and unusually gooey for a sword. Minazuki bubbled forth from her scabbard, trilling faintly as she solidified and formed into a mottled green cyclopean stingray, large enough to swallow a man, nuzzling at her human affectionately.

"Huh. She does seem to have an exceptionally intimate bond with her Zanpaktou..." Sasakibe noted, then flinched as Minazuki's mouth opened to reveal a fleshy interior of writhing tentacles and strange glands. Without hesitation, Unohana shed her prisoner's robe, which was apparently the and stepped inside to be swallowed with a sigh of relief.

"Very intimate!" grinned Chigiri at Sasakibe's shoulder. "My offer to stitch you up is still on the table, unless you want to develop a similarly intimate relationship with a fish."

"Never did care for seafood..." Sasakibe muttered.

"What about Tsubaki-san?" Furofushi frowned. "Where's her contract?"

"I came here for fighters." Yamamoto shook his head, turning to Tsubaki. "But you are right that The Maggot's Nest is a secure fortress in it's own right. The war is no place for a pri-"

He stopped, staring. Tsubaki had sat down and was rubbing her feet, fingers laced between her toes. She glanced up at him, then down at her feet, smirked, and sat back, wiggling her toes. "No, I agree, the front is no place for a Princess, but it is very much a place for a Diplomat, isn't it?" she asked.

Yamamoto blinked. "I have been thoroughly disinherited from any political position I may have inherited, so I am no princess." She explained, rolling her ankle with a smirk. "-and you are, if I may make an estimation based on my training as a Lady Of Society and now that all of our contracts are signed and bonded, terrible at negotiations."

Yamamoto shook himself, trying to pretend he hadn't been staring at her arches. "...I thought it went fine? Nobody lost a hand."

She smiled, and walked up beside him, lacing her arm with his and gently patting his hand. "My dear. If bookies had been allowed to lay bets on this encounter, the odds of me losing my head would have been considered a sure thing, and the odds on my being able to convince you to properly hire us and pay us, I agree, an 'obscene' amount of money so slim that anyone who took my side would now be a very rich idiot."

Yamamoto squinted at her, trying to translate that in his head.

"...You've conned me." He glared.

"Quite badly, I'm afraid." She smiled.

"You've conned me, but you can con say, that idiot that runs the Omeda clan or the obnoxious boy with the cock's comb that follows Yhwach around even worse." He tried.

Miss Tsubaki smiled, and laced her fingers with his.

"I'm going to have someone much smarter than me write up your contract." he nodded. "Sasakibe? Can you get us home in a-"

Yamamoto turned to see his friend, standing with his robe open while Chigiri knelt before him. Yamamoto blinked in bewilderment, and then realized the woman was stitching his wounds up at speed, her face close to his navel to focus on her work.

"...Hurry?" Yamamoto asked.

"Boss if I go any faster I'm gonna sew his bellybutton shut." Chirigi replied, not looking up.

"She is almost done, sir." Sasakibe winced. "Please don't interrupt her work?"

--- It took a good half hour to get everyone together to leave- clothes changed, signed out of the Maggot's nest and their custody turned over to Yamamoto, Nobotsuna trying to smuggle his "pet" Salamander out, several other prisoners saying tearful goodbyes to Tsubaki and her taking their information down 'for later', Minazuki trying to eat the salamander, and further mayhem while Sasakibe finished drawing the teleportation circle but soon they were lined up, and as the spell activated, Tsubaki gripped Yamamoto's arm rather firmly.

But in a flash, they were returned to Headquarters, Tsubaki blinking from the bright sun.

"General!" the soldier saluted. "Good to see you again! No news from the front, but we have received word the Shihon clan has made an alliance with the Fon clan as the advance approaches their homeland."

"HAH!" Shouted Chika. "Either cousin Genki pulled his head out of his ass or whatever cousin they're on now has good taste! Mingyan is a BABE and a half."

"Nice digs, very nice." Nodded Danjiro, looking around the courtyard. "...Looks really familiar for some reason. Never been to Seireitei, but I swear I've been in a building just like this?"

The other criminals looked around the courtyard, frowning and muttering about how it DID look familiar, and not at all like barracks.

There was a distressing hurgling sort of noise behind them and Minazuki spat out Yachiru Unohana, who tumbled out, nude and covered in slime. She rolled to the foot of the shrine, and sat up, blinking at the statue inside.

"Hey-" She called, voice still low and a rough but the hollow wetness had gone. "-Why's the military got a shrine to Yatagarasu?"

The others looked at the shrine and then around the building again. The orderly layout, the way the men were fit and professional but not precisely military, the extensive filing and sorting system visible through the open doors, Yamamoto's confession to Mail-tampering, the shrine to the Messenger of the Gods...

"You know, I did think it was rather strange that you were able to rally a small but apparently quite fast and very loyal army without the aid of any major clans." Tsubaki sighed. "How very industrious of you, Postmaster-General Yamamoto!"

#AEIWAM #an elephant is warm and mushy #bleach #bleach fanfic #long post #genryusai shigekuni yamamoto #yachiru unohana

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fablesofkitkat · 2 years ago

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can u continue the pov where u like tsukishima but he likes someone else

pov: your unrequited love feat. Tsukishima Kei

Alt title: <fablesofkitkat has no title yet for this series>

Genre: fluff

AN: My 2nd haikyuu pov. Hq readers or Y/N’s, start running. Towards me or away from me is your choice.

DISCLAIMER: this series does not strictly follow canon. In this story, Yachi joined the volleyball club the very first week so when Shizimu (the 3rd yr manager) asked Hinata for lists for freshmen who didn’t join a club yet, reader is listed, and got canvassed by Yachi and Shizimu.

Saying, “Is it worth it? Is it worth it? Tell me, is it worth it?”

- Rick Montgomery

Tags: @ti-mame @nikanikabitch @serotapeboi @darthferbert @xingqiuwaterdrop @mcauliffe-rosebuds @amecchii

You bounced the ball in frustration after Karasuno lost to Seijou. The third years thought they were going to be at the Spring Tournament but Karasuno lost so they haven’t dropped by the 2nd gymnasium. You, along with your fellow first years and second years, are anxious whether they’d stay in the club. Truth is, you have this fear of getting hit by a ball ever since a dodgeball game back in elementary. You ended up going home with tissues shoved in your nostrils because of a nose bleed.

Ever since joining the club though, you got a bit braver. Maybe it’s the thing cloying at your chest, your pitiful unrequited crush on Tsukishima, or the fact Karasuno failed to participate in the Spring tournament, you thought maybe getting hit by the ball in the face isn’t so bad anymore.

“Oi.”

You bounce the ball harder.

“Mascot.”

Speak of the devil, you catch the ball and cradled it with one arm on your hip as you turn around. “What?”

“School’s over.”

“I know.”

“Why’re you still here?”

“I’m joining the girl’s volleyball club, haven’t you heard?”

“As a mascot?”

You roll your eyes. “As the club advisor.” Your voice dripped in sarcasm.

He gestures for you to toss the ball at him and before you knew it, you and Tsukishima volley the ball to each other back and forth.

“You’re leaving too?”

“I’m not leaving. And don’t say that, our senpais could change their minds. There’s no way they could just leave the club without giving their all. It’s not fair. Nishinoya-senpai has a whole lot more to offer. Kageyama could learn a lot from Suga-senpai’s leadership skills. I won’t let them quit the club, I’ll camp Suga-senpai’s class room and convince them to stay.”

“Why Suga-senpai?”

You make a noise of frustration when your receive made the ball too high up. Tsukishima jumps a little and makes a passable toss at you. “I never realized how much Suga-senpai has influence on the whole club until the match against Seijou. Not to mention, he was cool, I kept looking over him and he was so impressive. I also want to wipe Seijou’s ball captain to the floor. He was so smug, but I guess with his skill, he should be smug about it. Still, Suga-senpai is the best.”

Tsukishima makes a wolf whistle, “The mascot and our captain: a shoujo manga, huh?”

His teasing pissed you off, so you attempted to perform a spike which he easily caught. “I don’t have a crush on Suga-senpai.”

He pushed his glasses up. “So you say.”

“So you say.” You mocked. “You’re so annoying. Why am I even talking to you? I like the moon, alright?”

“The moon?”

You give him a firm nod. “I like the moon.” Kami-sama, was Tsuki dense.

“You’re so weird.”

You shrugged and walk away. “So you say. Kageyama and Hinata’ll be here soon. You should practice with them. They’re frustrated too.”

---

“Why did you turn down Hinata and Kageyama’s request?”

Tsukishima pointedly ignored your question as he sipped on his orange juice.

“You know because you turned them down, Yachi offered to tutor them?”

He gives you a stoic stare, sipping still. “And your point is?”

“Because instead of annoying me during class breaks, you could be with Yachi tutoring them.” You push his head away from your desk. “Go away, I need to write some mock quizzes.”

“What, you need help with your grades too?”

“I’m not smart.” You chewed your bottom lip nervously. “So I need to study. I retain memory better when I do it this way. Plus, maybe Kageyama and Hinata are the same. I can give this to them when I’m done.”

His eyes soften at that and then he pats your head. “You’re a good kid, aren’t you?”

Your cheeks turned hot in a second. “Yeah, yeah.”

---

‘I like the moon.’

You screamed into your pillow.

Really? Did you really say that? You like the moon? You could do better than that!

You kicked your feet in rapid motions like you do when you swam as a kid. The embarrassment was unbearable.

Could you really be more obvious than that?

‘I like the moon.’

Suki. Like. Suki. Moon. Tsuki. Tsukishima.

‘I like the moon.’

‘I like Tsuki.’

‘I like you, damn four-eyes.’

You wish you could shut your brain off.

---

You stare at the poster Yachi did for the club and a wave of envy washed over you, the next you felt guilt and ashamed for feeling that way. Yachi’s cute. Yachi’s talented. Yachi’s nice. A second “Small Giant.” It was a picture of Hinata doing his jump spike. The crows soar toward the nationals once more. Donations received will be used for: away games, training camp, travel expenses, food expenses, and lodging expenses. For information, contact Karasuno High School boys’ volleyball club faculty advisor Takeda. It was a poster asking for donations. This was a whole lot more useful and impressive than you being a mascot. You suddenly feel like an idiot. This is amazing for the club, right? So how come you feel so much worse?

Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes and your lips trembled. You let out a small hiss to reprimand yourself. No wonder Tsukishima likes her. You don’t think you have it in you to attend club that day.

This is ridiculous, you’re being weird. Be happy for the club.

---

AN: Legit winging this. Don’t have any plans for this but let the writing gods and idea gods to take the wheel and possess me for more parts I guess

---

<- PREVIOUS

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #Line Without A Hook is such a mood to listen to while writing unrequited stories

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alrightberries · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! So like what if Levi & F!Reader are like cuddling, and Levi over slept (maybe misses a meetings?) and Eren and his squad have to go find him and they see Reader and Levi all cuddly and stuffs. AND THEN Levi become super pissed bc they went into his quarters without permission and blah blah blah (you can decide the rest lolll) basically crack, fluff and humor lol. Please& thank uuu

the short end of the stick

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 3.3k

❈ summary: In which the 104th cadets were not prepared to find out that the terrifying and ever-intimidating Captain Levi... is a little spoon.

❈ trigger warnings: implied sex. brief mentions of blood and death. profanity

a/n: i made the reader gender neutral, hope y’all don’t mind. i had too much fun writing this and got kinda carried away. this is my first request ever and i’m glad that i finished it. enjoy!

Eren was shaking.

Sweat dripped down his forehead and his knuckles turned white from how hard he was clenching his fists, nails piercing his skin so harshly he swore it would draw blood. His heart angrily pumped inside his chest, every beat so strong he nearly anticipated for it to jump out of his ribcage at any given moment.

Fear.

He felt fear.

He puts a name to the feeling and it doesn’t make him feel any better. Ears ringing, lungs breathing rapidly as he tries to steady his fear-induced heart. He was hyperventilating. His eyebrows crease from his anxiousness and he feels his knees weaken, daring to give out beneath him. Was he actually shaking right now? He couldn’t even tell.

Vulnerable.

He felt vulnerable.

Eren had seen many horrors throughout his short lifetime. He saw the colossal titan rear its ugly head over Wall Maria as its foot smashed into the wall’s gates, debris flying throughout the district as a boulder crushed his home with his mother still inside. He saw his mother get snapped in half and eaten by a titan right before his very eyes at a tender age as he sat by and could do nothing but watch.

He was orphaned. Forced to grow up too soon, too fast just so he could say he survived. His entire district was left homeless, forced to become refugees as titans rampaged throughout the outer walls, forced plow the fields to combat the famine and hunger, forced to have 250,000 people go on what was essentually a suicide mission to appease the growing population.

He trained in the military. He trained for three gruesome years and had his physical and mental psyche crushed into dust beneath the boots of the commanding officer, only to be thrown into a battle—completely unprepared— with the titans once more before he could even graduate.

He saw his friends, his family, his brothers and sisters in arms get eaten. Killed. Murdered. Swatted away like flies by the very beasts he swore he’d kill.

And yet, nothing could prepare him for this.

Nothing could prepare him for the blood-pumping, adrenaline-induced terror at the mere thought of having to carry out his mission.

Nothing could prepare him for having to wake up Captain Levi from his nap.

Jean groaned. “Dammit, just fucking do it already.”

Eren is snapped out of his reverie, suddenly reminded that he wasn’t alone. His fellow soldiers stood behind him.

“Well if you’re so brave then why don’t you do it, horse-face?” He grits back, turning around and clenching his fists at his side.

He glimpses around the hallway and his eyes loom over his teammates’ amused faces, each painted with a shit-eating grin. Everyone was relieved that they weren’t the ones tagged with waking up the Captain from his nap.

Rumor around the base is, the last person from his original squadron (may they rest in peace) who had to wake up Captain Levi almost had his ear sliced off. Levi wasn’t even carrying any gear or anywhere near a knife.

One look at Mikasa told Eren that even she was glad she didn’t get picked for this task, and he shudders at the thought of being the poor bastard who had to lose his ear just so the Captain wouldn’t be late for his meeting. He quite liked having both of his ears attached to his head, thank you very much.

“It’s your task.”

“Yeah but why is it my task?!”

“Because you drew the short end of the stick, genius.” Jean replies easily.

Oh. Right.

“There has to be something we can do! Another plan. One that doesn’t involve waking up Captain Levi.” His eyes are pleading as he looks at his fellow soldiers, yet none of them seem willing to switch places with him.

Dammit. They were really going to make him work for it.

All his dignity is thrown out the window as Eren quickly gets on his knees and starts begging his friends, the shit-eating grins on their faces turning into wicked smiles as they watch him beg for mercy.

“Mikasa? What about you? Are you seriously going to let them send me to my death?” He asks, but Mikasa simply turns her head the other way as she speaks.

“He won’t kill you. Just sever your ear.”

Eren’s eye twitches.

She looks at him once more. “I’ll pick up your ear and ask the medical unit to sew it back on you. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

As proof, she holds up a glass jar and some tweezers. She had gloves on her hands.

God, he was going to kill his teammates.

Jean, apparently fed up with Eren’s incessant whining, marches towards him and grabs him by the collar, forcing him to stand up.

“Yeager, you trained in the military for three years. You’re a goddam titan shifter. You got kidnapped and held hostage. Three times. Waking up a growth-stunted man won’t be the last of you.”

Jean’s words are reassuring but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. No, his eyes are still amused. Very amused.

Scratch that, he wasn’t going to kill all his comrades. Just Jean. Jean and his extremely punchable horse-face.

Before he could even reply, Eren is shoved inside the Captain’s office with a quick “Off you go!” and the door is quickly shut behind him.

Fear.

This was truly fear.

Captain Levi’s office is empty, Eren notices. It’s spotless as always and tall shelves line every wall, each filled to the brim with books and documents. A lone door sits at the far right wall.

The Captain’s bedroom.

Slowly, with bathed breaths, he forces his legs to walk closer to the door that held his fate. Briefly, Eren thinks about getting some protective ear covers (just in case) but he quickly shoves that idea aside when he realizes that Jean and Conny were likely blocking the door from the outside.

That, and he concludes that the Captain would just break another part of his body. Maybe his hands. He didn’t need ears for handling ODM gear but he did need his hands.

“Captain?” Eren’s voice is weak but clear as he knocks on the door. “Captain Levi, you’re late for your meeting.”

He holds his breath for a few seconds, and there’s no response. He tries once more.

“Captain,” he repeats, louder this time. “Captain, you really need to wake up. Commander Erwin says your attendance is required for the meeting to start.”

But there’s still no response.

His hands are shaky and he’s still extremely nervous, but he knew Captain Levi’s presence was urgent to the meeting. Classified, Commander Erwin had said when he asked what it was about.

The third time Eren repeats his fruitless endeavors, he realizes that Captain Levi really wasn’t waking up any time soon.

He runs back to the door he came in from.

“Let me out!” He yells, hands throttling the doorknob as he tries to pull the door open but just as he suspected, Jean and Conny are sealing the exit and pulling at the doorknob as well.

“Let me out, dammit! Captain Levi won’t wake up, I don’t wanna die— just let me out!”

His feet are pressed up against the wall at this point and he manages to yank the door open by a few mere inches. A quick glimpse outside confirms his worse fears: all his friends are holding onto the doorknob as well, trying to keep the door closed. Even Mikasa.

He’d never felt so betrayed.

“You got this Eren!” His eyes drift to the back of the group where Sasha was smiling at him with a cheeky grin. “I’m sure the Captain won’t hurt you too badly when you wake him up.”

“No, fuck that! He’ll murder me and say it was because I went ape shit in titan form. He won’t even get arrested!”

It was when he made eye contact with Mikasa when he realized what true betrayal felt like.

“Good luck, Eren.” “No, don’t—!” Mikasa yanks the door close with one strong pull and he falls to the floor, on his ass.

The room is quite once more (save for the cheeky giggles on the other side of the door) and Eren brushes himself off as he stands up. He eyes the door to the Captain’s bedroom and he breathes in deeply when he comes to terms with what he has to do to wake the Captain from his deep slumber. He has to go inside.

He finds himself in front of the door once again, and this time his knocks are a little louder, a little more unsure, as he speaks. “Captain? I don’t think you’re waking up soon. I’m coming in.”

Slowly, he tells himself. Slowly.

Eren wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the door to Captain Levi’s quarters. Maybe a torture chamber. Maybe swords and skeletons on the wall. Maybe a book on How To Murder With One Glare on a coffee table. He didn’t know.

But oddly, he thinks as he glances around, the Captain’s bedroom is... normal. The room’s dark, with its curtains drawn and the candles unlit. Tall shelves holding an impressive collection of books still line a portion of the walls. A bed is pressed up against the wall opposite the door, and there are two lumps underneath the blankets—

Wait.

Two lumps.

Two.

Captain Levi’s in bed with someone?

“Captain Levi,” Eren quietly calls out. He wonders who the hell managed to catch the Captain’s attention... or if someone even caught his attention at all. Captain Levi could just be hugging a pillow, he reasons. But Eren’s curiosity overtakes his fears and his legs start to walk closer towards the bed. “Captain?”

The blanket was pulled over the two sleeping lumps, and Eren gently tugs it down to reveal their faces.

No way.

No fucking way.

Briefly, Eren is speechless. His words get caught in his throat, hand frozen mid-air as he marvels at the sight of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier cuddled up within the arms of his lover. His normally stoic face is gone, replaced by relaxed eyes and a slightly ajar mouth, one cheek puffed up as it’s squished into his lover’s chest and his head is nuzzled into the crook of their neck. His arms disappear underneath the blankets, but judging by the fact that his lover’s arms were around him, Eren surmised that the Captain’s arms were most likely wrapped around his lover as well.

He looked innocent— cute, almost, and if Eren didn’t have to train under him everyday he might have actually believed that the Captain’s innocent sleeping face could be taken at face value.

Eren recognizes you, as well. He’s seen you around the base with your own squadron, an elite soldier with your own team of other elite soldiers. You’re known around the base as the squad leader who works their team to the ground, training your members so hard that they genuinely considered going to Captain Levi for comfort. But it wasn’t for naught, of course. Your squad’s survived longer than Captain Levi’s (again, may they rest in peace), barely making it out complete when the fiasco with the Female Titan occurred.

“Oi, Eren.” A voice behind him speaks, and Eren is briefly caught off guard as he turns around and makes eye contact with his comrades. Most likely, they got impatient with waiting for him and decided to see if he’d been murdered already.

Great, so now they decide they weren’t scared of going inside the Captain’s room.

“What’s taking so long?” Jean asks.

Eren is still speechless, opting to instead shakily point his finger towards the bed where Levi lay wrapped in your arms.

“H-he’s... he’s—“ “He’s what?”

He gulps and sighs deeply, speaking out so quietly his friends almost didn’t hear, speaking out in a mere shaky whisper as he utters his words.

“He’s a little spoon.”

Chaos is what Eren would use to describe what happened next. His comrades immediately jumped to stand next to him and take a look at the sight on bed, crowding around them as if they were a soap opera.

“Oh my god, he looks so...” Sasha starts in awe, hands on her cheeks and stars in her eyes but unsure how to finish her words.

Eren nods his head, understanding her speechlessness. “Innocent.”

Silently, his friends nod as well. But he couldn’t just stand here and gawk at Captain Levi’s sleeping form, he came here with a mission. “We need to wake him up. He’s already really late.” He says, more to himself than to his friends. He doesn’t wait for his comrades to exit the room as he gently places a hand on the Captain’s shoulders to shake him awake.

“Captain Levi—“

Eren learns his mistake too late as Levi’s eyes immediately snap open, hand clamping down on Eren’s and twisting it behind his back to disarm him.

“Eren!” Mikasa yells behind him, making a move to free him from Levi’s iron clad grip. From the corner of his eyes, Eren sees the person lying down next to Levi quickly sit up and throw something silver, flying past his comrades and towards Mikasa’s head, embedding itself deep within the wood next to her face.

Eren stares at his friends, all silent, frozen with fear, and rooted to their spots as their mouths hang open.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Levi sneers, pushing down on Eren’s arm.

“C-captain, you’re late for the—“ “Holy shit, we’re late for the meeting.” You cut in, eyes wide in realization.

The Captain briefly glimpses at you and clicks his tongue as he releases Eren from his grip, the young soldier immediately slumping to the ground in relief. His arms and legs felt like jello and he could already feel himself melting into the wooden floor.

“Can someone explain to me why you brats thought it would be a good idea to enter my private quarters?” Levi glares. “Without my permission?”

Oh shit. They didn’t think this through.

A cold shiver runs down the soldier’s spines as they unanimously realize their mistake, something that Eren undoubtedly would’ve felt as well if he wasn’t too busy gawking at the realization that Captain Levi was shirtless (probably naked underneath the sheets), and you were shirtless as well (also probably naked underneath the sheets).

Levi catches Eren’s eyes staring at you, and he silently pulls the blanket over your chest and up to your collarbones without breaking his glare at the cadets.

Fuck. Eren thinks, eyes snapping to the ground as a blush creeps up his neck. Captain Levi’s definitely going to cut off both my ears now.

Conny, apparently already cracking under the pressure, flails his arms and yells as he tries to make a run for the door. Before anyone could even blink, another silver blur whizzes through the air, stabbing the wood directly in front of Conny as he freezes.

It was a knife. A fucking butter knife. Why the hell the Captain and his lover keep a butterknife next to them on the bed is something Eren doesn’t want to know.

“Since none of you lot have tongues,” Levi speaks. He’s not going to get an explanation soon. “We’ll discuss punishment later. For now,” He stands up, grabbing a still flustered Eren by the collar and dragging him towards the door, pushing out the rest of the team as well.

Eren doesn’t have time to be relieved about the fact that Captain Levi was not, for a fact, naked and was wearing black boxers. He was too busy getting pushed out the Captain’s bedroom and dragged through the office before finally getting thrown out into the hallway.

“For now, you leave me alone. I have a meeting to attend to.”

Levi slams the door shut at his awestruck soldiers, breathing in a frustrated sigh as he rests his hand on his forehead. He was getting a headache. He feels arms wrap around him from behind, hands resting on his chest. He sighs once more, this time in content, as he leans into your touch.

“Hey,” you kiss neck. “Thought you said you locked the door.”

“I did.” He turns around, still in your arms, and gently places his hands on your face as he kisses your nose. “Someone must’ve accidentally unlocked it when they were trying to grab onto something. Y’know, when they were getting fucked from behind.”

You chuckle. “Well, I’m sure that someone probably got sweet talked into getting fucked against the door.”

You break away from his arms after giving him a kiss, making your way back inside Levi’s bedroom, no doubt to get dressed for the meeting.

He stares at you as you walk, still naked and looking gorgeous. His face may be stoic but his heart was leaping, the gold ring on your left hand that matched his own glimmering in the light.

Your head peaks out from behind his bedroom door. “Round two before the meeting?” You ask cheekily.

Levi rolls his eyes as he makes his way to the bedroom as well, patting your bum as he passes by. “No. We’re already late.”

Eren clutches the pillow to his head, exhausted from the laps he’d done. He glances around the room, eyeing the tired faces of his comrades.

As punishment for invading your privacy, Captain Levi assigned them laps around the base until sundown plus two weeks of stable duty. As punishment for invading his privacy, Captain Levi deemed them unworthy of having their own private space and made the entire squadron bunk together in the small room beside his own.

Well, the entire squadron except for the Captain himself, at least.

Eren was pretty sure the room they were made to sleep in indefinitely was supposed to be a supply closet of some kind, but it fitted enough bunk beds for the entire team and was deemed a worthy location to carry out the rest of their punishment.

“How long do we have to sleep here?” Sasha asked dreadfully, hands covering her ears in attempts to block out the noises coming from the other room. The sound of a squeaky mattress and a wooden bed slamming against the adjacent wall continued.

“Until we learn our lesson,” Jean quotes the Captain. He himself looked extremely tired but he wasn’t trying to cover his ears like the rest of them were, undoubtedly because he’d already given up on getting a good night’s rest if the bags underneath his eyes were anything to go by.

“I don’t even care how long we have to sleep here anymore.” Conny interjects tiredly. “I just want to know when they’ll ever stop.”

As if to prove his point, a moan is heard through the walls. The soldiers flinch, still not accustomed to the sound. Mikasa silently runs her hands through Eren’s hair to calm him down.

“They’ve been at it for hours,” Jean whispers in horror. “How much stamina do those two have?”

Armin sighs, the bags under his eyes feeling heavier by the second. “They’re elite soldiers who’ve trained for years. They have more stamina than all of us combined.”

The whole room heaves out a collective groan, finally accepting that they weren’t getting any sleep tonight.

In the other room, Captain Levi bangs his fist against the shared wall. “Oi,” he calls out. “Shut up, you brats. We can hear you.”

Levi thrusts his hips, eyes glancing down at your pleasure-struck face as he grinds into you more. The action causes you to throw your head back and let out a desperate moan, finger nails scratch down his back. He grabs your hands to pin them to the sides of your head, leaning down to whisper “Not too harsh, darling. We don’t want you leaving marks now, do we?” He continues his pace, the bed’s wooden frame slamming against the wall as he once again speaks to his soldiers.

“We have thin walls, y’know.”

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gretagerwigsmuse · 1 year ago

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“Not your wife yet…” GAHHHHH i have missed them desperately and this was so so perfect! they’re having a baby!! and bradley calls her his wife all the time even tho they aren’t married! god when will it be my turn? anyway it was fun seeing this all together after the little blurbs you’ve shared with me!

There’s no rigid structure to your days, save for the occasional work meetings. Most of your time is spent playing house with your fiance, redecorating the house you both barely lived in before you were called off to work. Wandering around and jotting down inspirations for your new screenplay. - this sounds positively DIVINE fuckkkk i’m so jealous

You’ve talked about having a baby, and you’ve talked about wanting to have one… some time in the future. He didn’t expect it to happen so soon. - i like that they’ve talked about it - and at length at that. it always bugs me in fics and books when the characters are serious about each other and ‘love’ each other yet they don’t even have conversations like talking about if/when they want kids?

Picture perfect Bradley Bradshaw, who knows how to be caring without being overbearing. Who kisses your clammy forehead after you puke your guts out. Who is literally running to the nearest drugstore to get her pregnancy test packs right now, for fuck’s sake. He’s just… perfect. - this would totally stress me out too! he’s just so perfect - seemingly without trying that it’s so hard to measure up to that?

“I mean, I had to take care of my mom all through high school, so…” he shrugs sheepishly. - SWEET BOY PLS 🥺

“I got three just to be safe.” - okay but i’ve got this down to a science - three is the perfect amount. you can take two tests to double check and then you have a third if you mess up one of them

“Honestly? No.” Yes. He knows exactly what he wants. He just doesn’t want to admit it and freak you out even more. “I’m just thinking about you. About us…” - BRADLEY!!! why is he so cute! that being said, i do like how they’re really talking this out and how normal they seem almost? like this is how i feel like i’d react if i were in this situation

But time makes you bolder, even children get older and I’m getting older too - i love this part of the song and that they kind of took a pause here?

It tugs at your heartstrings, just how soft he is. So brave, and so gentle at the same time. You have no idea what kind of parent you would be, but you know he would make a great one. - oh this is absolutely darling. all the love and trust and faith she has in him is so beautiful

His hands stop. “Don’t test me.” “Oh, okay. Would you prefer this instead?” you grunt oafishly, a piss-poor impression of him in bed, “Fuck baby, that’s it. That’s it. Good girl…” - pls this is so funny i love it and can picture his dumb lil face scrunching up as she does it

He mouths your neck in teasing, his breath fanning against your bare skin. “No? So I don’t have to perform my husbandly duties now, since you’re not my wife?” - nah her first reaction was right, it’s hot. give me the downton abbey lite dirty talk haha

The use of the moniker has significantly increased since the news of your pregnancy, but you’re hardly complaining. It does hit different now that he’s actually gonna be one. “I’ve been home for two minutes, and you’re already dripping down your legs…” he slaps the inside of your thigh and you’re keeling into it. “So fucking cute.” - oh My. this is exactly what the people (read me and houdini) needed!

Maybe you’re completely fucked out. Maybe you’re going soft and mellow, but nothing—and you mean nothing— is hotter than what he wants to do to you. - honestly both work tbh goddammit bradshaw

He blushes, a deep shade of red. He absolutely can’t take it when you quote back the things he said to you during sex. “Nope! Not a single word. La-la-la-la…” he closes his ears with his fingers, waddling over to the bathroom comically. - WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS SO CUTE!?!?! (but also i totally feel him like it’s hot in the context but uhhhhh yeah no i don’t wanna think too much about it)

“I mean, you’re here, with me, in our house, carrying our baby…” he kisses your nose, “As far as I’m concerned, that makes you my wife, doesn’t it?” - him tossing it around casually all throughout the fic is so fucking cute and sweet. and then his explanation here??? god that’s all you really need isn’t it?

given the circumstances (part 1) | b.r.b.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x actress!reader

summary: your relationship with Bradley goes from 0 to 100 after a little happy accident. [Part of “The Actress & The Aviator” universe]

word count: 5.9k

Warnings: established relationship, language, pregnancy, mention of vomit/nausea, accidental pregnancy, fluff, smut [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, hint of mommy kink?, breeding kink, size kink, creampie]

notes: they’re back babeyyyy! This is set about 1.5 years after the events in “It’s Classified”, and it fills in the gap of the blurbs I did a while ago. But you don’t have to read it first, this can be read as a standalone. I have missed writing for them so much, and I hope you enjoy reading this! <3

✨ follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest words <3 happy reading and please reblog if you liked it! ✨

PART ONE

You’ve been New York-bound for six whole months, doing two shows on Broadway back-to-back. Bradley came to visit you for your musical’s opening night about two months in (and again for your second show, a modern take of Romeo & Juliet), but with your shows and his sudden deployment to God knows where for three months, the time and space apart was killing you.

Which is why you’re determined to take some time off as soon as you’re done, just to be with your stupidly handsome fiance at home in the stupidly sunny California.

Your first month or so was a bliss. You would wake up to the smell of your coffee, and saunter into the kitchen where Bradley would kiss you good morning. There’s no rigid structure to your days, save for the occasional work meetings. Most of your time is spent playing house with your fiance, redecorating the house you both barely lived in before you were called off to work. Wandering around and jotting down inspirations for your new screenplay. Treating yourself to frozen yogurts and manicures. Adjusting to life in the San Clemente neighborhood of Orange County.

(Bradley made a joke about you joining The Real Housewives soon, which earned him an elbow to the rib. Whatever. He was more Housewife material than you anyway.)

But halfway through your second month, you started feeling lethargic and just… off. You chalked it up to the weather and exhaustion, since you’ve been back to work, going to pre-production meetings for your upcoming movie. You tried to brush it off with vitamins and heartier meals, powering through for a couple of days.

“You sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good…” Bradley looks at you in concern when you shuffle into the kitchen that morning.

You’re really not, but you blatantly refuse to acknowledge that. “I’m fine. Still tired, is all. I just need some…” the coffee scent wafts in the air—the same scent that always woke you up in a good mood these past six months—and you gag. “Oh fuck.”

Bradley’s voice calling out your name sounds distant as you dash towards the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before you puke your guts out.

“Hey…” he holds your hair back with one hand while the other rubs your back patiently. Staying calm despite his head is running a mile a minute in panic. “What happened, sweetheart?”

Everything feels like hell from your mouth to your stomach, and you groan as you pull the flush. “I have no idea. I just… I could smell the coffee and suddenly…” you motion at the toilet. “I mean, what the fuck?”

He sighs, wiping off sweat from your forehead and brushing the strands of hair sticking on it. “Maybe it’s stress?” he guesses, although they both know it’s unlikely. You’ve been keeping it relatively chill since you got here. “Or a stomach bug? Or…”

You look up to find his brown eyes softly gazing at yours, in worry and concern and… “Or what?”

He grimaces almost apologetically, and you slowly catch what he means.

“No. No way. Nuh-uh.” you shake your head so quickly, you give yourself a headache. “I’m on birth control. I’ve never missed a day…” That’s not true. As the words leave your mouth, you remember the surprise trip Bradley took you to Big Sur one weekend where you forgot both your pills and condoms…

Fuck.

“Babe… What date is it?”

He stammers for a bit, “Um, the— it’s the 18th.”

You do the mental math, counting the time gap between today and the Big Sur trip, and your last period… and your eyes widen. Your head is swirling, and so is your stomach.

“Sweetheart, do you think you might be—”

Before he can say the damned word, you feel the bile rising again. Your pointer finger lifts up in wait, as you bury your face in the toilet and throw up once more.

His heart catches. You’ve talked about having a baby, and you’ve talked about wanting to have one… some time in the future. He didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Butterflies fill his stomach at the possibility of you carrying his baby right now at this very moment, but the sight of you looking so… defeated by your own body is enough to create a nasty pit in his gut.

“What can I get for you, baby?” he asks softly, caressing the back of your neck.

There’s absolutely nothing else to empty from your stomach at this point. It’s basically just water and dry heaving, and your eyes are tearing up from the terrible sensation.

“Ginger ale from the fridge…” you manage between heavy breaths, “...and some test packs from the pharmacy, please.”

“Okay, sure. Got it. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” He offers both his hands and gently pulls you up. If he’s nervous or excited or both, he does a pretty good job of not showing it. He pulls up some tissues from the bathroom counter and wipes your mouth without batting an eye.

He lays you down on your side, getting you all nice and comfy, before disappearing into the kitchen, returning with a can of ginger ale and a puke bucket, just in case.

“Sweetheart?” his hand is soft and warm on your cheek, and his voice even more so. “Drink up. Hope it’ll settle your stomach a little bit.”

You sit up a little, and take small sips from the can. At least it helps alleviate the bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

“I put your phone on the bedside. Call me if you need me, alright? I’m just gonna run over to CVS. Be back before you know it.” He kisses your forehead, and you make a face in protest.

“I’m gross right now!”

“I don’t care,” he chuckles. “Just rest up. Love you.”

Of course he knows what to do. Picture perfect Bradley Bradshaw, who knows how to be caring without being overbearing. Who kisses your clammy forehead after you puke your guts out. Who is literally running to the nearest drugstore to get her pregnancy test packs right now, for fuck’s sake. He’s just… perfect.

You lie back down and smush your face into the pillow, faced with the fact that you’ll never be able to live up to that. And if you can’t… how the hell are you supposed to raise a child? How the hell are you supposed to pull your weight when your fiance can already do it so well?

“Babe?” He calls out upon entering the house a few short minutes later. “I’m back. I got the…” his words trail off as he walks into the bedroom and sees you in tears. His whole features soften up as he approaches you gingerly, sitting by your side. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

You shake your head as you sit up, sniffling a little. “What are those?” You nod at the paper bag he put down on the foot of the bed, hoping it’ll divert the conversation a little. It’s a little too big for just a bunch of pregnancy test sticks.

“The tests. And some snacks I thought might help with your stomach.”

And with that, the tears burn the corners of your eyes again and your lips quiver as they fail to hold back the cries.

“How are you so good at this?!”

He pauses in confusion, and then… it dawns on him. An amused glint appears in his eyes. “Are you… crying because I got a good bedside manner?”

Your hands fly up to your face, hiding it from view. “I’m not! Shut up!” You really were, but he didn’t have to say it like that… and your reaction only confirmed his speculation.

Bradley chuckles. God, he loves your silly little antics. “I mean, I had to take care of my mom all through high school, so…” he shrugs sheepishly.

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand. An uncomfortable awkwardness sets in as you remember his late mother’s terminal illness, right in the peak of his high school years. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m just… glad I’m doing it right?” He smiles in reassurance, wiping what’s left of your tears and kissing your nose. He lifts up the ginger ale can to your hand again. “You lost a lot of fluids to make up for. Drink up some more, and we’ll do the tests, yeah?”

You glance at the paper bag again, watching him fishing around… “How many pregnancy test packs did you get?”

“I got three just to be safe.”

You want to laugh, but you probably would’ve ransacked the test kits too, if you were the one to buy it. So instead, you nod slowly, ponderously. “Three is… three is good.”

You know how these test kits work, they’re all the same, but you insist on reading the instructions pamphlet anyway. With two other test kits to spare, Bradley simply takes another copy from another box to read.

“Pee on a stick, wait for up to 5 minutes.” You put down the pamphlet on the counter. “Easy enough.” You sigh like it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

And it is. Every tick of the clock feels louder and farther from the one before, and you’re trying your damnedest not to look back onto the counter where the blue-tipped sticks are lined up. Inspecting it up close and see the lines that appear.

You sigh in exasperation, breaking the stilted silence. “I don’t even know what I’m hoping for, if I’m honest. Is that weird?”

He shakes his head a little. “Not at all. This is a weird situation to be in, I think it makes sense if we’re still not sure what we want.”

“Do you know what you’re hoping for?” You turn your head towards him. Maybe you’ll know it when you hear it.

“Honestly? No.” Yes. He knows exactly what he wants. He just doesn’t want to admit it and freak you out even more. “I’m just thinking about you. About us…”

“What about us?”

“Just that… whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.”

Bless him. It would be infuriating if you weren’t so comforted by it. Leave it to Bradley to always know just the right thing to say.

And he means every word of it too. Yes, he wants a baby with you now, but you don’t, or if it doesn’t turn out to be now, then… he can stand to wait a little more. For as long as you need.

“How long do we have left?”

Bradley joins your gaze towards the nautical clock on the wall. A silly little gag gift you gave him last Christmas, for your favorite flying seaman.

“Three minutes and fifteen seconds…?”

“That’s about the average length of a pop song.”

He grins. “Exactly. One pop song, and we’ll find out.”

You nod. Listening to the tick, tick, tick of the clock. It drones on and on, and it seems to lull slower as it goes. Fuck Einstein and his theory of relativity. You pick the first random song that pops into your head and holds onto it for dear life. It’s your only way of keeping track of the time, at this point.

“I took my love, I took it down…” you sing under your breath, tentatively.

Bradley snorts. “It’s a good song.” That’s an understatement. He adores Fleetwood Mac, and this is the first song he learned on the guitar when he was 10.

“Climbed a mountain and I turned around…” you throw him a side-eye, a more than obvious invitation to join you.

Bradley has his eyes closed, though. But he nods along and sings along in his warm voice, “And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hill…”

“‘Til the landslide brought me down.”

The two of you are singing with your whole chests now, belting out the chorus to drown out your nerves, forcing yourself to stay on tempo even when you feel like rushing it to the end. Right now, it’s more like Nick Miller’s nervous singing from New Girl than a beautiful bathroom jam session, but you don’t care. Bradley is vocalizing the guitar solo part like the back of his hand, playing the air guitar and everything, and you’re so, so happy that out of all the people in the world, you’re doing this with him.

And at that moment, you realize that your worries earlier today were misguided. Yes, Bradley knows how to take care of you, and he probably knows a thing or two about babies. But he’s on your side. He’ll be pulling the weight with you. Being good parents is not a competition—you know he’ll cheer you on like he is doing right now. He knows you’ll do the same for him, too.

Well I’ve been afraid of changes

‘cause I’ve built my life around you

But time makes you bolder, even children get older

and I’m getting older too

You didn’t notice it at first, but Bradley also softens up on the final chorus, lost in his own thoughts. He has built his life on self-preservation, protecting himself from the lies of the people he loved, and depriving him of the love and family he’s always wanted. But maybe it’s age or the wounds healing (or you swooping into his life at just the right moment)… but he’s not gonna live forever. He knows in his heart of hearts that he wants this baby. He wants this life with you.

When you ask him to look and tell you the results, he doesn’t even flinch. He just nods, kissing your temple as he reaches for all three test kits behind you. His hand shakes a little as he picks them up, though, flipping to see the indicator side. One line for negative, two for positive.

And there it is.

“They’re…” his throat catches, his face unreadable. “They’re all positive…”

“What?”

He shows you the test kits, two blue lines all across the board. His voice wavers, with tears and smiles at the same time. “We’re having a baby.”

“Oh my God…” you walk into his arms in a daze, still not sure what you’re feeling. Are you relieved because you simply know the answer, or relieved because it’s true? Are you terrified because you want it or you don’t?

Bradley cups your face with both hands, tucking unruly strands of hair behind your ear. His brown eyes brimming with tears, blurry as he admires your beauty. The mother of his child. Gosh, he can’t believe his luck.

“How do you feel, honey?”

It tugs at your heartstrings, just how soft he is. So brave, and so gentle at the same time. You have no idea what kind of parent you would be, but you know he would make a great one. “Shocked,” you admit. He nods. “Scared.” This time, you’re a bit embarrassed, but he completely empathizes. “But…” you put your hand over his, closing your eyes as you lean your cheek against his palm, so warm and soft and right, “…happy.”

***

And after two months of a relatively slow life, things are going from zero to 100 very quickly.

Bradley manages to duck out of work early and take you to the doctor that very afternoon. Everything seems to be in order. The baby is, indeed, there— a 7-week-old blob as big as a blueberry with a heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

Your heart all but stops beating when you first hear it, much stronger than you thought it would. But there it is. Strong. Alive.

There.

“That’s… that’s our baby…” You choke up, staring at the ultrasound screen in awe. His hand brings yours to his lips for a loving kiss.

Gosh, you must’ve cried about six times that day. Bradley twice as much (He would deny it to his grave, but you kept count.)

And then, once the novelty wears off a little and the new situation sets in… the two of you get to work.

Bradley updates the entire kitchen inventory and goes into a research (or, as you like to call it, a rabbit hole) into what you can or cannot consume during your pregnancy. You’re constantly on the phone with your agent to rearrange your schedule for the next year (he sounds happy that you’re expecting, but a little inconvenienced that he has to move some things around and even cancel your involvement in a few projects). Conversation topics at mealtimes now include baby names, nursery ideas, and childcare plans.

Bradley comes home to you huddled over your laptop one evening, brows knitted in focus. The AC is cranked up to the max in the summer heat, and you’re all bundled up in the throw blanket. He wants to squee over how cute you look. He puts down the takeout bag of Pad Thai on the coffee table.

“Whatcha got there, my little cocoon?”

“Insurance, mostly.” You look up to kiss him briefly, before you continue typing on. “I’ve been talking to them all afternoon, going through the birth plans and sorting everything out. Very exciting stuff.”

“Hell yeah! Paperwork! The thrill of calling up an insurance company on a Tuesday!” Bradley counters your deadpan with an overexcited cheer, flopping himself on the spot next to you with another big kiss. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Well,” you take a thoughtful deep breath, going through your mental to-do list and realizing… you’re pretty much all set. “How about a back massage?” You give him the puppy eyes, as if you needed it in the first place.

“Copy that, Ma’am.” He throws her a lazy salute and tugs the throw blankets off of you. He starts on your shoulders, noticing the tension under your skin. “Jeez, babe. How long have you been hunched over here?”

Before you can answer him, he’s already working the knots on the base of your neck, you don’t even know you were so tense there, and you respond with a resounding moan.

He raises his eyebrows. “I’ll… take that as a compliment, then.” He grins, ever so proud that he’s eliciting these sounds out of you.

It’s not like you were playing it up or anything. You really were tense, and his hands really do feel good. And while it does make you moan and sigh blissfully, it’s hardly your fault that it makes him think of something else, right?

“Baby…” his voice sounds like a gentle warning.

“Yes?”

His hands stop. “Don’t test me.”

“Oh, okay. Would you prefer this instead?” you grunt oafishly, a piss-poor impression of him in bed, “Fuck baby, that’s it. That’s it. Good girl…”

“Hey!” he pokes his fingers to your side and cage you in his arms so you have nowhere to go. Nowhere to avoid his ministrations.

You giggle uncontrollably, squirming as he gets on top of you, peppering kisses all over your face. A mere distraction to his real tickle attacks. “Stop! Stop! Roo-roo!”

He pins your arms over your head, his cheeks tinged pink with mischief now. “Yield?”

“I’m willing to negotiate.” You flash him a coy smirk.

He frowns. Go on.

You raise an eyebrow. You know what I’m talking about.

He raises his, mirroring you. Interesting…

You tilt your head slightly. Well?

And just like that…

“Deal.”

Your lips meet each other halfway in a searing kiss. The pregnancy hormones are kicking in in full gear, and you’re needier. Much needier than you already are. You want Bradley all the time, in whatever form he’s in, in whatever situation you are in. He knows this, and he finds this endlessly adorable. He would poke fun at you for that…

If only he wasn’t so god-fucking-damned enamored by you for it.

He tears off your dress, reveling in the sheer sight of you. Your curves growing softer, more pronounced in the past month alone. The very subtle but steadfast roundness of your belly. Your breasts, as they grow fuller and—

“Oh…” you whimper as he rolls your nipple between your fingers.

More sensitive to the touch.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this…” he leans down to kiss you again; on the mouth, and on the neck… his tongue gliding across your collarbones, forming the shape of your mounds, one after another…

“Roo, take me to bed…”

“Or what, lose me forever?”

He grazes the outer parts of your nipple with his teeth and teasingly licks at the hardened tops, and you cry out. Such a small little thing, but you feel the sensation in your fingertips.

Bradley smiles. A soft look despite how the situation is escalating. “C’mere, baby.”

With your legs wrapped around his waist, he lifts you up off of the couch. You think it’s just to get you up on your feet, but then he’s not letting go. “You’re not seriously thinking about carrying me all the way upstairs, right?” A teasing frown sets on your face as he hauls you out of the living room.

“Are you assuming that I can’t carry my beautifully pregnant wife to our room?”

“I’m not your wife yet, you know— oh shit!” He pins you against the wall right by the stairs, one hand cradling the back of your head, ever so caring.

He mouths your neck in teasing, his breath fanning against your bare skin. “No? So I don’t have to perform my husbandly duties now, since you’re not my wife?”

It’s kind of hot… but you can’t help but make a face at his choice of words. “You need to stop watching Downton Abbey. Just say ‘fuck.’ It’s not that hard.”

He pulls away, his comeback locked and loaded and ready to go. “You can’t tell me what to do. Who are you, my wife or something?”

“Ugh!” your jaw falls open in a mock offended expression, and you smack his ass playfully.

In turn, he squeezes yours back. Tight. Possessive. There’s a shift in his gaze, a tiny sliver, a darkening—the kind that makes you feel even more naked than you already are. You look at him with unbridled lust, and he kisses you like it’s the only way he can breathe. Like he’s been holding his breath until he can get his hands on you.

And by God, you would let him have all the air you have left to give.

He carries up to the bedroom slowly, carefully, and you hold onto him tight. Reveling in how strong he’s built, all muscles and abs and everything, and how gentle he handles you as he sets you down on the edge of the bed. The epitome of a gentleman, as he kneels down between your legs.

You can feel the heat emanating from him—or is it you?— and you try to unbutton his khaki uniform. “Baby, don’t you wanna take off your…” your words die out as his chest moves out of reach. There is only his hair between your thighs.

His tongue between your folds.

“Fuuuuck…” you bite through your teeth. And once his finger joins in, you’re done for.

You make no effort to hold back your obscene moans, but the wet sounds coming from your pussy are still louder. Your face grows hot as the noise bounces through your bedroom walls.

Bradley pulls his mouth away for a moment, smirking devilishly at you from between his legs. “Well well well… What’s got you this soaking wet, honey?”

You bite your lip, trying to keep it together. But you’re teetering dangerously closer to your release, and you whine out, “You, Daddy…”

He chuckles darkly. “Daddy’s got you all worked up, huh?” The use of the moniker has significantly increased since the news of your pregnancy, but you’re hardly complaining. It does hit different now that he’s actually gonna be one. “I’ve been home for two minutes, and you’re already dripping down your legs…” he slaps the inside of your thigh and you’re keeling into it. “So fucking cute.”

He watches you fuck yourself on his fingers and it makes you dizzy. “Please…”

“Please what?” His mustache tickles your clit, and it drives you wild. “Please stop?”

You whimper in protest.

He adds another finger into you, and raises an expectant eyebrow. This fucking asshole. A snide remark sits right at the tip of your tongue, but the only thing that comes out is,

“Please fuck me.”

He stops, straightening up with an intrigued look about him. Then, being a little shit, he comes back up to you with a kiss. “Good girl. There we go. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You taste yourself on his lips, his mustache wet from your arousal, too. In any other case, you would be more proactive, more feral in returning his sentiment—tearing off his clothes and stuffing your mouth full of his cock. But lately you’ve been feeling more… submissive. So easily drunk on climax that you just surrender your pleasure to your man, knowing he’ll take care of you.

Bradley stands up to his full height, towering over you. He toes off his shoes, unbuttoning his uniform. It’s hardly a striptease routine, but there’s something insanely hot about him undressing when he’s about to fuck you.

His shirt drops to the floor, and the white undershirt soon joins. You perk up at the sound of his belt unbuckling, pants rustling down. And as his hard cock springs free from his boxers, you swallow thickly at the sight.

“You ready?” He pumps his fist around his hard-on a few times, as he settles between your legs, still standing on the side of the bed.

A quiet little please escapes you, and then a gasp, as he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed. Lining up his cock against your entrance. He’s big, and your pussy is still aching after he edged you moments ago. It’s gonna be a tight fit.

“Honey, go slow. Please. Slowslowslowslow… ahh!” His cock slides into you in one swift movement, sending a blinding wave of pain and pleasure as it stretches you out.

He doesn’t tear his eyes off of you. He watches your face fall under his undoing, and he moans. “You feel so good, baby…” he says between heavy breaths. You’re always so strong and bold and ballsy, and it gives him a fucking power trip to see you look so… small taking on his cock.

You let out a pathetic whimper as he starts to shallowly thrust in and out of you.

“What is it, baby?” He coos, caressing your hip gently.

“Y’too big…”

“Too big?” Bradley looks down to level your gaze, a seed of a shit-eating grin plastered on his stupid face. “You want me to stop? Is that what you want?”

“No!” You buck up into him as soon as his hips halt, desperately trying to maintain the pace.

He chuckles, that cocky fuck, before he finally continues driving his dick up your inner walls again. “No? You want me to keep stretching you, then?”

You nod. Every thrust feels bigger, deeper, more than the rest, hitting that spot of pleasure just barely, and you’re willing to do anything to stay there.

“Been so needy since I got you pregnant…” he kisses your neck. “Want Daddy more now that I made you a mommy, huh?”

Fuck. The words—the exact order of the words he said sounds batshit insane. You never considered this kind of dirty talk to be hot, but Jesus…

“God, I can’t wait to see your belly all big and round… your tits too, fuck…” he groans as he squeezes your soft flesh, rubbing your nipples with his thumb. “Gonna be a mommy and show everyone who you belong to, huh?”

“Mmh…” You’ve seen Bradley being possessive, and you’ve seen him tap into his primal side, but not like this. This is a whole other beast, and it shocks you how much it turns you on.

“All mine, huh?”

“I’m all yours, Daddy. I’m—fuck. Fuck!” Your whole body is shaking. The band in your core is wound up so tight, and it’s threatening to snap.

And through it all, he doesn’t let up. Bradley keeps that rhythm, pounding into you hard and deep. “Shit, that’s it… that’s it, baby. Come on my cock. God, you’re so fucking tight…”

There’s no stopping it now… your pussy gushes and clenches around him, as shocks of pleasure wave through your system. Your mind goes blank, and for a hot second, nothing is registering in your brain. Nothing but your man, as obscenely as he is fucking your brains out right now,

“Need your cum inside me, Roo…”

“Don’t wanna come anywhere else. Just you, just your pussy…” he breathes out. He’s close, that much you can tell. His pace is erratic and his mouth runs wild. “Gonna keep pumping you full of my cum. Gonna keep fucking babies into you until you can’t anymore.”

You would laugh. You would tease him for being such a caveman about it. But as he comes deep inside you, his hips stuttering one, two, three more times as he rides out his orgasm… you don’t only surrender to the idea; you welcome it.

Maybe you’re completely fucked out. Maybe you’re going soft and mellow, but nothing—and you mean nothing— is hotter than what he wants to do to you.

What he is doing to you now.

The room falls into a pleasant silence as you come down from your high. Bradley pulls out of you, and you gush out with your own release and his. His mouth falls open in awe. “Fuck, that’s hot…”

“Huh?” You lift your head from the bed, trying to see what he’s looking at.

“Nah, it’s just…” he shakes his head with a grin. “Good thing we’re already pregnant, huh? If we weren’t, that might’ve just done the trick.”

You roll your eyes as he gives you a sweet peck on the cheek. “I think the dirty talk alone was enough to do it.”

The sound of water trickling into the toilet coincides with your laugh in the bedroom… and then it gets drowned out with the flush. It’s a mundane little snapshot of your intimate lives together.

He comes up to you and offers his hands. “Come on…” he helps you get up. “You go ahead and clean up. I’ll change the sheets.”

Leave it up to Bradley, to always take initiatives to do the small things, like changing the sheets and ushering your ass to the bathroom after sex.

As you clean up and put on some clothes in the bathroom, Bradley singing Take My Breath Away to himself in the other room, you wonder how all of this will turn out. Change is inevitable—your belly is getting bigger, this new stage of relationship is getting more real— and you’re desperate to get a grasp on these things. It’s strange to be so anxious after such a lovely evening. But it’s been so good so far… too good, maybe… and you can’t help but wonder if the other shoe might drop.

“Everything alright?” Bradley pops up by the bathroom door, already in sweatpants and a t-shirt. You must’ve been in there for a while.

You nod absently. “Yeah, just… changing.” And you’re not sure whether you’re talking about the clothes you just put on, or the body you inhabit.

“I think you look beautiful,” he says so simply. Wrapping his arms around you, feeling your small bump. He smiles into your hair and whispers, “My beautiful wife…”

“Not your wife yet…” you remind him pointedly, teasingly. It’s one of your favorite pastimes, keeping him on his toes.

He turns you around to face him, a tender look seemingly permanent on his face whenever he sees you these days. “I mean, you’re here, with me, in our house, carrying our baby…” he kisses your nose, “As far as I’m concerned, that makes you my wife, doesn’t it?”

Well, when he puts it like that… you take a deep sigh, not hating the idea. But not quite ready to concede to his argument yet. “Apart from a piece of paper.”

“Ah well. That can easily be arranged, hmm?”

Truth be told, he’s got a point. The only differentiating factor to your status right now is a little certificate, and both your signatures on the dotted lines. Not a big party or a horrendously expensive dress that everybody would have an opinion on. And to be more truthful, it was never what you wanted in the first place.

You only ever want to be together.

And you’re free to decide how you want to be together.

“Should we just do it?”

“What?”

You look up at him with a tentative smile.

His eyes light up, and his heart leaps. “I mean, sure.” He chuckles. “We can go down to the courthouse. Or, hell, I’ll drive us to Vegas right now.”

It gets a giggle out of you. Of course he would jump at the opportunity to marry you right away. “Or… we can just celebrate it with our closest friends and family? Rent a beach house somewhere, and just… make a fun weekend out of it?”

“And just… what, get a justice of the peace to marry us?”

You shrug with an easy smile. “Or we can make Mav cry and ask him to officiate.”

He chuckles, but trails off as it sinks in. It has never occurred to him that that was an option. He’s always imagined it the traditional way. A church ceremony followed by a reception in a hall somewhere. Walking under the arch of swords. Looking dapper in his dress uniform. But with his work obligations and yours, and all the nightmare logistics of guest numbers and venues and entertainment and the fucking publicity that comes with your fame, both of you are well aware that it’s a hassle.

And it’s not even the most important part.

The most important part is you. You’d be the one meeting him at the altar. You’d be the one saying your vows and making him cry happy tears.

You would be the one.

For him.

Forever.

“Let’s do it.” Bradley nods resolutely. “Just you, me, and our closest people. We can get married in our jammies, for all I care.”

“Maybe not jammies…” you roll your eyes in amusement. “I still wanna look nice for our wedding, you know.”

“You look nice in your jammies.” He glances down at your tank top.

“Roo.” You cover his line of sight indignantly.

But he tugs your hand away, eyes still glued to what is arguably one of his favorite sights in the world. Your cleavage. Plays it off really coolly as he teases you. “No, no. I’m serious. You look really nice in your jammies. I really wouldn’t object to—”

You swat his hand, only half-serious. “Bradley.”

“Alright, fine!” He raises his hands in surrender. “So long as I get to call you my wife.”

“Not your wife yet…” you saunter out of the bathroom, knowing full well he doesn’t care.

To be completely honest, you’re not even sure that you do, either.

#bradley fic

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