#I won’t go into much detail regarding questions

[caseyjones2012]

im bitter about the fact that Casey Jones still hasn’t been introduced in TOTTMNT/TMNTMM so I made an AU where Oroku Saki has three children with a woman named Cassidy Jones

[anim-ttrpgs]

Why I Dislike PbtA Games, and How Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is Their Opposite

@tender-curiosities

It is no secret that I hate PbtA games.

Though due to a recent misunderstanding regarding another post, I’m going to preface this post by saying that this is going to be a very opinionated post and

I do not seriously think that PbtA games are inherently bad, though I may sometimes joke about this.

While I do often question the taste of people who make and play PbtA hacks, I do not think poorly of their moral character.

While I am going to call for PbtA to be used less as a base for games in the future, I’m not saying that the whole system and all games based on it should be destructified. It’s good for what it’s good for, but unless you’re doing that, I really think you should use something else.

Now that that is out of the way, here’s what I have to say about it.

My first experiences with PbtA games were pretty rough. Monster of the Week was not the first, but it was one of the first ‘indie’ TTRPGs I played after having previously played mostly only D&D3.5e and 5e. I really appreciated that the use of 2D6 over a D20 meant that the dice results would be more predictable, and I really liked the various “classes” I was seeing. (At this time, I didn’t really understand that they weren’t really “classes” at all, though I think I can be forgiven for this because many people, even people who like PbtA games, still talk like “classes” and “playbooks” are interchangeable.)

I was very enthusiastic to play, until it came time to start actually “making” a character, and found that I couldn’t “make” a character. I wanted to make a nuanced, three-dimensional PC who was simultaneously stereotype-affirming and stereotype-defying, with a unique backstory and dynamic with the other characters—but when I went to actually fill out the character sheet for basically any “class”, I found that most of the backstory and most of the personality for my character was being set for me by the playbook. It felt like the only thing about the character I really had a say in was their name, and that two PCs of the same playbook would actually turn out to be almost identical characters. At the time, I thought this was very restrictive and very bad design.

Later, now that I understand the design intent behind it, I still think of it as very restrictive, but I think of it as very bad design for me, not inherently bad.

When I play a TTRPG, I want more freedom in who my PC is. That doesn’t mean I want less rules, in fact having more rules can often increase freedom, but that’s a different post. I want to create original, unique characters, that I won’t see anywhere else. If it’s a class-based system, I want that class to barely touch the details of my character’s backstory or personality, so that I can come up with something original and engaging for why and how this “Fighter” fights. This means that two level-1 Fighters, despite having almost the same mechanical abilities, will potentially be very different people.

PbtA games don’t let you do that. In a lot of PbtA games, you’re not playing your own original character, you’re playing someone else’s character, that every other player that has picked up the same playbook before you has played. It’s more like “character select” than “character creation.” I think I could liken it to playing Mass Effect or The Witcher. Every player may pick a few different dialogue choices in those games that change the story, but we’re still all playing Shepherd or Geralt. No one is going to experience a new never-before-seen story in Mass Effect or The Witcher, which is very much a factor of them being video games and not TTRPGs, and therefore limited to the amount of code, writing, and voice-acting that can go into them.

This anonymous asker who sent a message to @thydungeongal seems to feel pretty similarly to me about PbtA games, and @thydungeongal's response is a very good response about how people find this appealing.

I have more respect for PbtA now than I did, but I still don't like it because to me it seems to play so much against what I consider to be the strengths of TTRPGs as a medium, much like how video games like The Last of Us and David Cage games play against the strengths of the medium of video games, and I will never like it. But other people clearly do, so to each their own.

Then another reason I don’t like it is because I think it’s oversaturating the TTRPG space. I’ve referred to PbtA before as “indie D&D5e”, and i do think that’s a reasonable comparison, because in much the same way that you always hear “D&D5e is a system that can do everything”, I think a lot of people seem to be under the impression that the PbtA system is a system that can do anything. It’s kinda the système du jour for indie TTRPGs right now, and many iterations of it make it clear that many designers do not consider how PbtA differs from more traditional TTRPGs, and how it is specialized for different types of TTRPG gameplay. Just like how I feel PbtA isn’t playing to certain important strengths of TTRPGs, I think that many—maybe even most—PbtA hacks don’t play to the strengths of PbtA. But this isn’t really PbtA’s fault, that comes down to any individual indie TTRPG developer on a case-by-case basis. And the cure for that is something I’m always saying: If you are going to be a writer, you have got to read lots of books. If you are going to be a director, you have got to watch lots of movies. If you are going to be a video game developer, you have got to play lots of video games. And if you are going to be a TTRPG designer, you have got to read and play lots of TTRPGs. That and you have to understand that TTRPGs are specialized. Even "agnostic" systems like PbtA are somewhat specialized, and therefore might really not be a great fit for the game you’re trying to make.

That and, to get more subjective again, there’s like an ocean of them, and I don’t even like the ones that are actually good.

Now that I’ve talked about how I don’t like PbtA games, I’m gonna talk about a game I do like: Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. Obviously, I like it because I’m the lead writer for it, but I would also like it even if I wasn’t the lead writer for it, because it’s just my kinda game. Eureka is the opposite of a PbtA game. I wrote it to play to what I feel are the strengths of the TTRPG medium.

Eureka’s character creation uses personality traits as a mechanical element of the character, but it does so in a deliberately freeform way. You build your character’s personality out of a list of traits, so who your character is is very much linked to what your character can do, but we aren’t just handing you a pre-made character.

Eureka is designed to incentivize organic decision-making by the PCs, most often by the mechanics of the game mirroring the world they live in. Every mechanic aims to create situations wherein “what will the PC do next?” is a question whose answer can be predicted - it doesn’t need to be ordained by a playbook.

One of my favorite examples of this is, rather than a “Fear Check” forcing the PC to run away if they fail, or “Run Away from Danger” being a “Move” on their character sheet, Eureka opts for the Composure mechanic. The really short version is that one of the main things that lowers a PC’s Composure is encountering scary stuff, and the lower a PC’s Composure, the more likely they are to fail skill checks, and the more likely they are to fail skill checks, well, the less brave they and their player probably feel about them standing up to this scary monster. So if the PC has low Composure, they are more likely to choose to run away. The lower their Composure, the better idea that will seem.

This system really really shines when it comes to monster PCs in Eureka. Most monsters benefit a lot more from having high Composure, but have fewer ways to restore Composure than mundane PCs. Their main way to restore their Composure is by eating people. The rulebook never says “your monster PC has to eat people”, but more likely than not, they’re going to be organically steered towards that by the game and world itself. Sure, they could decide to be “one of the good ones”, and just never eat people, just like you reading this could decide to stop eating food. You technically could, but when your body starts to fail, how long would you? (This is a big part of the themes of Eureka and what it has to say about crime, disability, mental illness, and evil. People don’t just arbitrarily do bad things, it is often their circumstances that leads them down that path until they see little choice for themselves in that matter, and “harmful” people are still just as deserving of life as people who “aren’t harmful”, but that really deserves its own post.)

It has been said that Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually arrives at much the same end as the PbtA game Monsterhearts, and I actually don’t disagree, but it gets there from an entirely different starting point and direction. The monster PCs in Eureka are very likely to eat people and cause drama, but it won’t be because they have “Eat People and Cause Drama” as a “Move” on their character sheet.

Monsters in Eureka have a lot of abilities, which they can use to solve (and create) problems as the emergent story emerges organically.

(Oh and Eureka is about adult investigators investigating mysteries, and sometimes those investigators are monsters, not about monster kids in high school, to be clear. The same “end” that Eureka and Monsterhearts reach is that of the monsters being prone to cause problems and drama due to the fact that they are monsters, though this isn’t the sole point of Eureka, just one element of it.)

You can pick up the free shareware version of this game from the download link on our website, or the full version for $5 from our Patreon.

And don’t forget, Eureka is fundraising on Kickstarter starting on April 10th, 2024! We need your support there most of all, to make sure we hit our goals and can afford to make the best version of Eureka we can make!

Interested in branching out but can’t get your group to play anything but D&D5e? Join us at the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club, where we nominate, vote on, and play indie TTRPGs, all organized by our team with no strict schedule requirement! Here's the invite link! See you there!

We also have merchandise.

[cuntdevil]

★ THE CLEANER-UPPER!

a highly-regarded murder cleaner is assigned a job at a hotel. unfortunately, when housekeeping walks in, it breaks bakugo's streak and ability to make a clean getaway.

( fic demographics. ) boku no hero academia, bakugo katsuki, dark content (violence) & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 7000 words.

╰┈➤ murder cleaner!bakugo, housekeeper!reader ( afab & she/they pronouns ), mentions of murder, dead bodies & blood. smut: rough sex, bondage with a belt, anal play, fingering, degredation, spanking, etc.

( author's note. ) this fic is based on a mobile game ive been playing recently, nobodies: murder cleaner. it's so fun and was an interesting concept i wanted to turn it into a fan fic uwu.

Bakugo has always been thorough with everything he does, living his life in a pristine manner that his friends often teased him for. Everything he has and owns has to be placed in their designated areas or his mind will start racing and it’s as though he’s a ticking time bomb. It’s a problem that he has, but he’s made it work in his favor. Especially in his line of business.

When Bakugo’s asked what he does for work, he’s honest. He’s a cleaner. Typically, people won’t question him further. They might ask what a guy of his size and caliber is doing working a small job like that. He’s gone to a well-established university and earned a high-GPA that his academic peers are envious of. Why is he wasting such talent on a dead-end job? Surely, there are other professions and careers he could go in. 

And with further elaboration, Bakugo goes into a little bit more detail, saying that he works for a private company and that he gets paid by the rich to clean up. Then, by seeing the type of stuff he’s able to afford, they can come to some sort of understanding of why he does it. A paycheck is a paycheck and does he really need a job that’s mentally taxing? They learn to dismiss further questioning, even if they’re not satisfied with the course of life in which Bakugo’s decided, and let him be. He’s got a roof over his head and is able to come home to a full fridge. He’s obviously not struggling like they have to. 

But the majority of the time, that’s a stranger’s outlook on his life. People that are more dear to him have come to grow suspicious. Are the rich really that willing to pay him that much money just to clean their homes? Do they really just throw their money away just like that? 

His parents, specifically his mother, have inquired plenty of times about his job. She had asked for full reports about the business he works in and Bakugo’s been willing to share. Giving his mother a business card, pamphlets and flyers, his tax information when she further insisted. And through conducting her own research, everything has checked out. Her son is indeed a cleaner. A well-paid cleaner that’s able to live in a nice luxury apartment by himself, owning a car that’s better than her own, and doesn’t have to come back to his parents for anything financial wise. 

He doesn’t have to worry about a thing, and while that should make Mitsuki happy, it doesn’t. She’s proud that her son has a job and is able to support himself and doesn’t need to depend on her or her husband for anything, but she feels as if she’s not needed— not wanted anymore. He rarely calls and when he does, he makes sure to make it worthwhile, always stating how his job has kept him and away from the phone. When Mitsuki tries to make unexpected visits, he’s never home— peeking through the windows, his apartment barely looks lived in. 

The more and more she thinks about it, Mitsuki realizes that this isn’t normal. Days at a time he would be absent and when he’s back it’s only for a day or two until he’s back on his feet. It’s exhausting to watch, and it surely must be twice as exhausting for Bakugo to keep working such strenuous hours. She’d try to get him to quit, seeing purple starting to form under his eyes. That’s not like her son— that’s not like Bakugo to not get at least eight hours of sleep every night. However, he’s always quick to protest, giving her every reason in the book not to. And he’d always end it that he actually loves his job and loves what he does— that it’s his outlet. 

And with that reasoning only is why Mitsuki hasn’t dragged her son’s ass back home and forced him to quit already. Her boy is happy.

—

MISSION REPORT: 

Asset #1080, last night Q-100’s logistics expert Shinsou Hitoshi used a known alias to check in to the Escenica hotel in Buenos Aires. Turns out that was the last mistake he ever made.

Our operative had to act fast to catch him in his room, so you may well have a bigger mess than usual on your hands.

Housekeeping will begin making rounds any time now. Make sure there’s nothing for them to find.

Disposing of the mission report right as the plane lands, Bakugo lets out an exhausted sigh. He pulls out his airpods case as he stands to his feet, plopping the small buds into his ears and hearing the habitual chime of it connecting to his device. Swerving past the private flight attendant, his footsteps are as quiet as a mouse, something that used to be unlikely before working in this field. He puts on his playlist, he always plays it when heading to a new job— it oddly relaxes him.

Heading to the black Lexus that’s sitting there waiting for him, he opens the door and hops in, not having to say a word as he’s been driven right where he needs to be. Being introduced to this line of business, Bakugo never thought he’d be someone who’d become insensitive to the sight of death and the thought of it all. However, being led through the first job and oddly finding it satisfying, he slides through every gig with ease and always concludes it a piece of cake when his agent comes to collect a completed mission report. 

People think that what he’s doing isn’t challenging, always giving him looks when he tells them he’s a cleaner, thinking that what he’s doing is a waste of talent. However, he finds it to be his perfect calling, finally finding something that silences that constant creak inside his head. 

When the Lexus comes to a final stop, Bakugo doesn’t bother with a farewell, more like a thankful grunt and nod before exiting the vehicle and watching as the automated doors open for him. It’s awfully quiet for a hotel, he thinks the moment he steps in. It’s close to the holidays. Shouldn't it be a little bit more crowded?

He’s not trying to wish for a difficult procedure tonight, but he finds the silence odd. However, he finds himself grateful the moment he passes a door with the body splayed out on the bed with the bed sheets covered in blood. Rushing in, he curses, “shit.”

I know they had to act fast, but couldn’t they have used some of their senses if they had any? Bakugo continues to curse under his breath the longer he stands inside of the hotel room, moving to turn the lock on the handle. He lets out a sigh as he takes a moment to himself. Scoping the scenery out, he hums to himself silently as he thinks of his options. The first thing he notices are the windows— they’ve been left open. 

I could make it look like he jumped, he suggests before quickly disregarding. No, that’ll call for attention. It needs to be something silent. And something outside of this room— Turning around, he twists the door knob before remembering that he locked it, feeling something flap around underneath. Two signs for maintenance— just what he needs. 

Opening the door and peeking his head through it, the coast is clear. The red ‘do not disturb’ on his door and the green housekeeping sign for the room adjacent to him. This will give him enough time to venture out and get a better look at his options. 

—

By the time Bakugo’s finished his tour of the hotel, he’s managed to reroute the surveillance off of his floor and housekeeping has fallen for his small diversion, the cart parked right outside the room next to him— he’s managed to successfully snag the keys off of it as well, opening what he needs before setting them back in place. In such a short time, he’s managed to conjure up a plan to successfully hide the body— if he’s able to get the garbage chute up and running in a short period of time while also getting the staff outside of the laundry room right when he needs it. Inwardly, he cheers himself, finding this to be an easy task before instructed another assignment to complete. 

Heading back inside the room, he’s found the edge of the bed frame to be falling off, and hopefully it could aid as a ladder to create a diversion for the laundry staff. Those damn workers will be in there twenty-four-seven if he doesn’t do something about it. Finding the custodial closet using the keys he borrowed, he’s managed to twist off the pipe and found some fuses that’ll help repair the garbage chute. 

Bakugo thought that since it’d be a year since doing this, his heart would calm down and stop pounding against his chest, but as much as he loves it, he’s reminded of the impeccably tight schedule that he’s on and that he needs to do this fast. He moves with a haste, sorting his thoughts out with every step that he takes. Turning off the valve to the water supply, he’s figured that’ll lead to a little halt in the laundromat workers downstairs and with the garbage disposal inside of the custodial room, he can quickly get rid of the body and the blankets in no time. 

Climbing down from the roof, Bakugo pauses when he hears sudden movement. “The damn water stopped working all of a sudden,” a rough voice speaks, his tone rising the more he gets angrier. “What am I supposed to do for the next seven to eight hours?”

“Calm down,” Bakugo hears next, a soft feminine voice coming from whoever the man is speaking to. With the exasperated sigh leaving their mouth, Bakugo can tell that this seems to be an ordinary occurrence of the man complaining and the woman having to hear it. “Call in for maintenance and use the rest of your shift to relax. Easy.”

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” the man scoffs. “You’re just a young thing with nothing much going on. For Pete’s sake, you’re in your twenties working in a goddamn hotel!”

Bakugo doesn’t know how the young woman’s able to keep calm when he hears her nonchalantly retort back, “And you’re in your fifties working in a hotel. Shouldn’t you be working high up in corporate by now?”

You’ve managed to silence the man, completely exiting the clean room and making your way down the line. You’ve gotten used to Aizawa’s complaining by now, but sometimes he knows just what button to push. Like now. Eyebrows rising, you see Adam's apple bob as he realizes his mistake. You have surely proven your point. In his incessant rambling, he forgot that both of you are in this circumstance and while there’s no further hope for him to better his life, you still have that opportunity. And unlike him, you have a plan on making it out of the hotel and finding a much more secure and well-paying job. 

“Y’know what?” Aizawa clears his throat. “I’m gonna go read that book I’ve been meaning to catch up on the worker’s lounge.”

You curtly nod, plastering a faux smile on your face as Aizawa makes his way down the hall and out of your sight. “Tell me about it later.”

With a heavy exhale, you let out your breath as you push the cart down to the next room, forgetting to read the sign as you move to unlock it. Bakugo doesn’t move fast enough before you have the door unlocked and you’re pushing it open. The sight before you doesn’t fully register until a second too late, eyes widening and about to scream when you feel a rough hand planted over your mouth and you’re being pushed up against the wall. It went by in a flash, but it’s vivid in your mind. Pale skin sprawled out on the bed— motionless. Lifeless. Your heart is racing, panging heavily on your chest as the crimson red eyes that match the color of the blood-soaked covers peer down menacingly at you. “Do. Not. Make a sound.”

You finally make eye contact with the person that’s got you in this position. And it’s easy for you to jump to conclusions— think that he’s the killer and because you walked in on this scene, you’re going to be his next victim. Bakugo’s never been in this position before, never getting caught. He doesn’t know what to do in this predicament. 

Actually, he does, but he’s not sure if he wants to carry through. He’s not a killer, only the man that cleans up. He can stomach seeing a dead body, but not sure if he can stomach actually creating one. But, he doesn’t necessarily need to do it himself. He can call his organization, have them do the job for him and he’ll gladly clean it up. 

Could he, though? Could he clean up the body of his own mistake? A young and pretty woman, seemingly around his age range, who had no business being in his. Of all of his tasks and mission reports, he’s never had witnessed a woman being killed and he really doesn’t want to anytime soon. 

Fuck. You’ve really put him in a predicament here. Couldn’t you read the damn sign? 

“Do ya understand me?” Staring into your eyes, he can see that you’re still freaked out. You’re still breathing heavily and your heart’s still racing. Your eyes continue to divert his, trying not to make eye contact at all. His patience is running thin and everything he’s just thought will be running right through the door if you don’t calm down. So, he gives you a little “nudge.”

Shaking you, he clenches his job as he breathes once more, “do y’understand me?”

And finally does it register to you that he’s speaking, fright turning into confusion as your eyes turn glossy. “Mwhat?”

Bakugo seethes, hand pressing down harder over your mouth as he squeezes you into the wall. “Listen to me,” he checks his surroundings, reaching over to lock the door once more while simultaneously making sure he keeps his hold on you. “If ya make a sound, yer going to join this man. I have a pair of pliers that I can use to gouge out yer throat, it only takes a few seconds. Y’understand?”

Tears start to trickle down your eyes as you squeak, nodding your head in obedience. You’ve seen your fair share of movies, true crime television shows and podcasts. You don’t doubt a word that he says. And with a man of his size and caliber, if you dared to fight back, he’d tower over you in less than a second. If he goes back on his word and kills you, you hope it’d be a quick and easy one. So, in his hand, you nod once more. “I understand.”

He keeps you in that same position for a little while longer, staring into your eyes for a bit while longer before letting you go. Dropping his hand, you and him both let out a breath, but he still keeps you trapped against the wall. “Since ya decided to ignore the ‘do not disturb’ sign, yer going to help me dispose of the body.”

You rapidly nod. “Okay.”

You’re complying so easily, it makes him skeptical. “Yer not gonna fight?”

You shake your head, stammering out a “no.”

“Why not?” In response, you start to squirm within his tight hold. His big and calloused arms on your waist. So close to you, you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, so close to your neck. And his eyes, the color of rubies, despite them scorning you and scrutinizing your every move— they’re pretty. This scruff of a man with messy blond hair towers over you, bulging muscles that have easily pinned you down to the wall the moment you stepped foot into the room. The longer you look into his eyes, you realize that this man has seen some shit and has done even more terrible things. Why would you fight?

“You’d win,” you ultimately shrug. It’s enough to receive another once over from Bakugo, “You got a point.”

Peeking over Bakugo’s shoulder as best as you can, you look at the lifeless body— the corpse seemingly at peace. It makes you curious, and maybe a bit too brave. “W-why’d you kill him?”

“Huh?” Taken aback, Bakugo didn’t know how to answer your question. Should he tell you the truth or should he lie about it? Or should he evade your question altogether? Glancing behind him, at his current job, he lets out an exhale. “Just help me hide the body if you don’t want your skull bashed in.”

—

With the extra hand by his side, Bakugo was able to seamlessly dump the body inside of the garbage disposal and set everything that he had used back in its previous spot. You were compliant and didn’t argue with anything that he told you to do, able to divert and lie when questioned by your coworkers. It was as though you were familiar with this and had been working as a cleaner yourself. Bakugo was impressed. Still, he’s still unsure what to do with you. 

Standing inside of the hotel room, he’s watched you clean up every crevice of the room, analyzing how you’ve fixed it up to pristine shape for the next occupant. It’s just a shame that the next person will have to deal with the ghost of Shinso Hitoshi. Dropping a spray bottle back into your cart, you slowly turn around to sheepishly view who you suspect to be a murderer. “Are you going to kill me now?”

You’ve taken him back yet again, but more so because you’ve been so calm. How are you not scared at the possibility of losing your life? He doesn’t answer your question and his silence is all that you need to finally break down. “Because before you do, I’d like to at least plead for my life!”

With the raise of your voice, your eyes widen. “Sorry,” you tone it down. “B-but… I won’t say a word. I’ll just— I’ll stay silent! Plus, you’ve made me an accomplice. If I did say anything, you could easily rebuttal it in court.”

You’ve got a point, he sighs. It’s a shocker that he didn’t even think about that before. He just made you an accomplice in the heat of things. Checking the time, it’s late and he has a bit of time for himself before he’s called in for his next task. “Are there any bars close by?”

“What?” you ask, bewildered. He gives you a look, telling you not to let him repeat himself. Gulping, you nod your head, “There’s a few not too far from here actually.”

“When do ya get off yer shift?” 

Checking the time, you do the quick math. “In a little less than an hour actually.”

“Great,” he pushes himself up from off the wall. “We can discuss it over a drink then.”

“You’re not going to kill me then?” The moment you clocked out, Bakugo dragged you outside of the building and instructed you to take him to the nearest bar. As per usual, you complied, bringing him to one that you actually frequented yourself as the bartender immediately recognized you the moment you took a seat, setting a Mojito right in front of you before asking Bakugo what he wanted. With a bourbon in his hand, Bakugo cocks an eyebrow at you. “What makes ya think that?”

“You haven’t done so already,” you shrug. “I don’t know. With all my true crime knowledge, if you wanted to kill me, you’d have done it already. You’ve had plenty of opportunities.”

“Maybe I’m just having my fun with ya before I kill ya off. Have ya thought about that?” Bakugo inches into your personal space, standing up and towering over you. Purposely taking a domineering stance, he watches as fright twinkles in your eyes. Sickeningly does he find some humor in it before he sits back down on the stool. Clearing his throat, he takes another sip of his drink. “Nah, but yer right. ‘M not gonna kill ya.”

“Then why’d you bring me with you?” you ask. “Why not just send me on my way with another threat or something? It'd have worked.”

Leaning into his chair, Bakugo shrugs. “There’s just somethin’ about ya that makes ya interesting—” licking his bottom lip, his eyes grazing over your body, taking you more in. “—just need to discover what.”

—

Back pressed into the dresser, it aches as the straight edge leaves a bruise on your bare skin. His bare hands are no gentler, calloused palms that hold you down and grip your waist with a vice strength that has your heart beating against your chest. From its incessant pounding, it's caught Bakugo's attention as lets out an airy and amused chuckle. “Not scared to clean up a dead body, but yer frightened by my cock, hm?”

His breath against your neck as his teeth graze the shell of your ear. He paused and in anticipation, your body shudders. “Fear it's the one thing that's gonna kill ya? Yer a rather sick one, aren’t ya?”

You can only mewl out in pain as he pushes you further against the dresser. You can’t help but stare into those crimson eyes of his, how they’re sparkling in lust— lust directed right towards you. However, despite the pain and the haughty desire that courses through your body right now, you can only agree with him. That rush of being afraid, the possibility of losing your life and simultaneously hiding someone that’s already lost theirs. It was an exhilarating experience as you had a tall and brawn of a man that glared daggers into your chest if you dare get him caught. The possibility of aiding a criminal and becoming an accomplice no longer frightened you. No, it was the fact that you enjoyed it and now want to continue feeling that rush of living on the edge. 

At the lack of response, Bakugo can only continue to chuckle in pure amusement. He’d mistaken you as a fragile being when in reality, you’re just as fucked up as everyone else is in this world. What was that saying again? The innocent ones aren’t as naive as they seem? At least it was something along those lines. 

He leans over to bite down on your lower lip, thick and supple as he can taste the remnants of whatever chapstick you were wearing. You shamelessly moan at the feeling of his touch roaming your body. Big hands that reach to cup your ass and grope at them before hoisting you up on the dresser and eliciting a squeal from your lips. Who knew that a vixen such as yourself could sound so pure. Yet, Bakugo takes the opportunity to fully indulge in you, his tongue exploring the caverns of your mouth and giving you no fighting chance towards catching up. Instead, you can only moan and whimper against him as he’s in between your legs and you’re trapped in his vice grip. 

Even with the assisted height of the white piece of furniture, Bakugo still has the leverage. His hips meeting your inner thighs as you feel the press of his clothed erection against your mound. Hands that previously didn’t know what to do finds themselves snaking around his neck and your nails scratching at the nape of his neck, playing with the short strands of his undercut. It drags a guttural groan from him, humming in response to your actions as he pulls away from you. 

Your eyes flutter open to make contact with him once more, they’re glossy and needy as they beg for me. “Please…”

You don’t know what you’re begging for to be quite honest. You just need to feel more of him— to no longer be restrained by each other’s clothing; to feel each other’s raw bodies against each other’s. Bakugo knows exactly what you want, what you so specifically desire. And as much as he wants to give into those natural urges, he finds it fun to tease. “What’s it that ya want?”

His rough fingers start to traverse your body, from the nape of your neck down to your shoulders as goosebumps start to rise in anticipation. From the crevice of your shoulder to your waist does his fingers travel upwards to flick at the nub of your breasts and down to your navel. “What do you want inside of you, hm?”

His gruff and gravelly voice really does wonders to you, spiking up your heart rate even more that you’re concerned if this’ll turn into a medical mishap. Body still so close to yours, you can feel his body heat mixing with yours as small beads of sweat begin to form. “Do you want my fingers inside of ya?” he inquires. “The same ones that were used to hide a dead body? You’d fuckin’ like that, wouldn’t ya?”

And you nod ever so shamelessly, eyes pleading with him to make you feel full in some sort of capacity. “Ah,” he hums. “Once again, so quick to comply and say ‘yes’ to anything I tell ya. It’s kind of… pathetic.”

You let out a screech, fingers reaching for your hair and pulling ever so roughly. He’s forced you to bear out your neck, your chest heaving heavily as you pant. “Don’t you think so, too?”

You squeal out something incoherent, too fixated on the pain to contort anything understandable. However, his grip loosens as he once again pulls you in for a kiss, swallowing away the momentary pain. Pulling away once more, Bakugo looks at you to say, “don’t worry, doll. I promise to make ya feel good.”

He’s kept well on his promise, fingers stuffed inside of you as he’s still got you sat on the dresser. Legs spread open wide for him as he’s hell-bent on seeing just how well your pussy reacts to him. Your juices secrete onto the piece of furniture as your mind is fixated and captivated on this brute of a man. Two digits stuffed inside of you— thick and intimidating. The hands of a murderer, your subconscious whispers into the back of your mind, yet you can’t find the strength to fight him off. And you sure as hell don’t want to, especially when those said hands are being used to bring you to such immense pleasure right now. Has a man ever made you feel this good before? 

You’re afraid to answer your own question as you’re letting another moan as your thighs begin to tighten and your sweet cunt starts clenching around his fingers. Your hand reaches to grab his wrists, but he’s unrelenting as he speeds up the pace. “Oh, God…” you cry out.

“No God here,” Bakugo smiles connivingly. “Just me, doll.”

“I— I’m gonna—”

“Let this pussy cream all over my fingers, baby,” he drawls, spreading your legs even wider with his free hand as he feels your walls pulsate around him. “Show me how much of a dirty slut you are for me.”

And the way your body follows his commands boosts his already inflated ego, a maniacal grin gracing his features as he watches your body convulse. Your mouth falls open in an ‘O’ as you have fallen speechless. A white band forms around the base of his fingers as he continues fingering you through your orgasm, a small puddle starting to form as it widens and sticks to your inner thighs as he watches you in delight. “Yeahhhh…” he breathes, barely above a whisper. 

Not a complete asshole, he gives you a moment for you to relax before he’s pulling you out of your haze suddenly. Forcing your legs to wrap around his waist, he carries you over to the bed, dropping you on it and watching your body bounce on it as he’s caught you off guard. In this naked glory and now laying on the bed so vulnerably, it’s given Bakugo the better opportunity to ogle your body much more closely. He takes in your breasts and your curves down to your delectable cunt that still glistens from your orgasm. Eyes traveling back to your face, nothing beats those features of yours. 

What’s a sweet little maid doing in the hands of him? You’ve surely lost your way.

Bakugo starts pulling off his own clothes, giving you a show that you have no intent on looking away from. And the way your pupils darken is all the reminder that he needs that you aren’t no saint. Reaching for his pants, he pulls at the buckle of the belt, dragging it from the loops with one aggressive swoop before dropping it on the bed. It could possibly find itself handy. 

He maintains eye contact with you, as he watches you sit up on the bed. Unzipping his pants, he shimmies out of it before kicking them off and slowly crawling on the bed and over you. He feels like a predator who’s caught his prey and ready to devour you. Your eyes widen in expectancy, ready and waiting for him to pounce. Both now in an equally naked glory, you’re ready for whatever he has to give. However, from hovering over your body, he’s sitting up once more and removing such close proximity that has you confused and has you questioning his next move. 

Until you feel a hand on your ankle. You can’t imagine the ease it takes to flip you over, not letting out a single grunt as he’s gotten you on your stomach now. Breasts pushed into the soft fabrics of the bed with a hand pushing down on your back as you feel his heavy-weight against you. The jingle of his belt comes to your ears as you look behind you, feeling both of your hands in his grip and he’s using the piece of leather to bind them together. He watches you intently as he smirks, “Can’t have ya movin’ ‘round while I use your perfect little pussy.”

He fixes you how he wants, forcing you on your knees as your upper body lays pliant and still. He’s got your ass and pussy out in the open for his use and he watches how your cunt is once again begging to be filled, clenching onto nothing in the search of friction. He’s got a hand around his length, hard and waiting to fill itself into you and ruin this pretty little body of yours. Dark shaft of his that’s veiny and cut tip leaking of pre, he rubs his head as the many possible ideas of what he could do to you rings throughout his mind. But with the aching throb of his cock, he knows he can’t keep withholding you what you want— what the both of you want. 

With his body weight, he inches forward until you can feel his skin against you. His heavy cock in between the crevice of your ass as his body heat radiates off him like the scorching sun. Engulfed in his presence, your breath hitches as you tug on the tight restraints of the belt wrapped around your wrists. The raspy chuckle that escapes the man above you sends shivers down your spine as he leans into you. His chest presses against you as one hand grabs at the belt-bounded hands and the other helps align his cock with your entrance. “Y’think yer ready for the wild ride, doll? Cuz I don’t think I’ll stop once I start. This pussy just looks too good to give up.”

“Yes,” you huff out, nodding. “Please, I need you in me.”

He grins. “Whatever y’say.”

The walls of your apartment are paper thin, so you don’t doubt that your neighbors can hear your extracurricular activities. You’re not being considerate of their comfort at all as you shamelessly weil into the night. Skin slapping against skin, the wet sloshing sound of your juices sounding through your bedroom as Bakugo fucks you viciously. You’re crying out like a disgusting little whore, first whining about how he was too big of a stretch and now look at you. You’re not bitching anymore. 

“Look at ya,” Bakugo grunts, keeping up the rough and torturous pace. “Taking my cock like the nasty little slut ya’re.”

A thumb prodding at your asshole, puckered and tight, Bakugo lets out a nice string of saliva trickle down in between your ass as he massages the next entrance. The action has you clenching as your nails dig into the palm of your hands, tensing up at the feeling of him teasing your hole. He slaps your ass, nonverbally reprimanding you. “Don’t tell me you can’t handle a finger up your ass now,” he mocks you. “Aww, don’t tell me you can’t handle it. Don’tcha wanna feel good? I know you do.”

You mewl, eyes shut as your face is stuffed into the comfort of your silk-clad pillow, you don’t utter a word to Bakugo. Can’t bring yourself to. “Don’t worry, doll—” For once, Bakugo’s a bit more gentle. Still keeping the exhausting pace of drilling your poor pussy, he rubs your ass with a gentleness. “—It’ll only hurt for a moment.”

He doesn’t give you any warnings, only pressing his thumb deeper until he can’t anymore. Just as he said, where one moment you were squealing in pain, the next your body relaxed as your nerves didn’t know what exactly to focus on. The beatings of your cunt or the thick digit invading your ass. Right as you got adjusted to the additional penetration, you let out a dragged moan that only had Bakugo smirking. “Told ya,” he says with a smack of your ass. 

It’s all overwhelming, how you feel so full yet can’t reach behind you to touch Bakugo, to pull him impossibly closer to you. You whine and moan out, high-pitched sounds that’re like music to Bakugo’s ears as you jut your ass back into him. Your cock swallows him whole, your sweet cunt pulsating and clenching around his length in a desperation for him to breed you. And fuck is he tempted to. He can imagine the ropes of cum he could pour into you, mixing with that intoxicating nectar of yours.

His grunts and moans are guttural as he withholds his orgasm, waiting for that perfect moment. With his thumb still inside your hole, he presses the palm of his hand into your ass, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin and threatening to create dark bruises. “C’mon, doll. I ain’t got all night.”

You’re so close, you can feel it. In the pit of your stomach, that familiar churn rises up inside of you and bubbling up to be something deadly. “Fuck,” you cry. “‘M so close!”

It’s inhumanly possible, but Bakugo speeds up even more, battering down on your pussy until you’re screeching out a garbled mess. White blurs your vision and if Bakugo was trying to say anything, you didn’t hear it. Your body spasms as you feel your inner thighs and the sheets beneath you get soaked. You don’t register the sudden hollowness you feel as Bakugo pulls out, the sight of you squirting getting him on so much that his orgasm follows yours shortly after. Ejaculating, he spurts his cum all over your back as your legs fall pliant as the last of your juices seep into your sheets and you can only lay in your mess. 

Cock softening as droplets of his orgasm drip down your ass, Bakugo pants as he looks at the time. Half past three in the morning, he should really leave. He knows this, but he’s exhausted and if he makes more than five movements, he’s going to knock out for sure. “Fuck,” he curses as he climbs off you and falls to your left side. You’re panting heavily, chest rising and falling as Bakugo looks over at you. Your eyes feel heavy and you’re trying to force yourself to stay awake, but to no avail. With all the strength you have left, you spin to the side and your back towards the blonde in your bed. Bakugo snorts as he shuffles to turn away from you as well. G’night, he grunts out in his mind. 

—

“I’m not a murderer, by the way.” Bakugo finds his way on the edge of the bed, his back towards you. The sun peeks out through your curtains, giving him the light he needs to get dressed. “Don’t think I’ve ever clarified that. I didn’t kill that poor piece of shit.”

He catches you off guard, making you turn around to view his back. Processing his words, you’re not sure if you believe him or not, but you decide to go along with it. You’ve already laid in bed with the man and you’ve given up on convincing yourself of the morals that you believed you once had. Was this a way to make you feel any better? “Then, what are you?” You didn’t mean for the little laugh to leave you at the end of your question, making it seem like you were doubting him. Though truthfully, you were. 

“I just clean up the bodies after the murder,” he explains as he gets dressed, ignoring your little chuckle. He can’t blame you. “Someone else kills them and I hide the evidence that it even happened.”

“Oh,” you breathe, intrigued. There’s a job for that? Before you can answer any questions, he stands. Now fully clothed, all except for his shoes. 

“Yeah,” he answers, gruffly. “I’ve sent out a recommendation for ya. You seem fit for the job, so I made a call to one of the higher ups to get in contact with ya.”

“You… you did?” Furrowing your eyebrows, it catches you off guard. “How’d… when did you even have the time to do that? You were pretty much glued to me the moment I walked in on you.”

Bakugo smirks. “I’ve got my ways—” Glancing at the clock, he silently curses to himself. “—Anyways, I’ve got to go. See ya around or whatever.”

Your eyes widen at the announcement of his departure, making you sit up in the bed and reach out to him. “Wait!”

“What?” he snaps back, glaring right at you now. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Is that it?” you ask, not sure what exactly that you’re asking. “Is there nothing else?”

“Nothing else to what?” he turns back around. “I’m pretty damn sure you won’t call the cops. That’d be stupid of ya.”

That smirk on his face. Moments ago, you found it to be such a sexually appealing thing, but now you just wanna smack it off his face. “Or what? You want me to say I had a good time with ya? Is that it, doll?”

Your face heats up as you grow flustered. “No.”

“If it makes you sleep better at night,” he crosses his arms, making them bulge even more. “I did.”

With that, he gives you another once over before reaching for the door. Without a goodbye, he swings it open and then shut as he quickly makes his departure.

—

SEVENTY-TWO HOURS LATER 

Bang, bang, bang. Three hefty knocks at your door that makes you jump out of your seat from around your very small and quaint living area. You haven’t heard from Bakugo since he’s left, and you don’t know how you expect him to when you don’t even have any way to contact him. However, you were still hopeful— still had him on your mind since the moment he walked out of your small apartment. From the three knocks, you’re hoping that it’s him, coming to devour you like he did three days ago. 

“Who is it?” you call out from the other side, but there’s no response. When you look through the small peep hole there’s no one there. Kissing your teeth, you’re about to head back to the couch when something in the back of your mind tells you to turn back around. When you do, you hear the small slip of paper slide from underneath the front door and there’s a singular letter sitting there right at your feet. 

Picking it up, the envelope just has your name on it— first and last— nothing else. Not your address and not one from who or where it came from. It reminded you of some of the last things Bakugo told you. “I’ve sent out a recommendation for ya. You seem fit for the job, so I made a call to one of the higher ups to get in contact with ya.”

Ripping open the envelope, you let the tattered thing fall to the ground as you read letter:

Dear (Y/N),

It’s a shame to know that one of our trusted agents was caught during a mission. Truthfully, you should’ve been handled with more care and caution, but if it were to go that way, you wouldn’t be receiving such an invite like this. Agent #B354 has recommended you to join our very secretive profession to be part of our agency. 

We will give you another twenty-four hours to make a decision and get your bearings together. Whether or not you accept this invitation, you will be sworn to secrecy about this organization or you will be dealt with accordingly— as you should’ve originally been. If you decide to join, welcome to the team Agent #Y976. If you decide that this profession isn’t for you, you’ll receive a non-disclosure agreement to sign and we wish you the best of luck in life.

From, NMC Organization

( departing words. ) honestly, this fic could've gone on longer and i feel like it could be more detailed, but i don't have the time for that, unfortunately. please leave your comments and feedback below!

[marvelouslizzie]

unconventional methods - chapter 1

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a big problem: he is too anxious to date and too old school to enjoy porn. But he needs some kind of relief, and he needs it right now.

After getting an accidental boner during a mission, Natasha suggests him an application that seems to be exactly what he needs.

Will your content solve the problem for him? Or will it create new problems?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes x Adult Content Creator Reader)

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, sex deprivation, adult content creation, sexy lingerie, sexy photos and videos, male masturbation, self-doubt, overthinking, flirting, sexting, sending explicit content to each other, pet names, mutual masturbation, jealousy, feeling possessive (nothing toxic), hiding the real identity, no mention of y/n.

A/N: This was such a random idea but as I started to think about it, more details came to me. After a point, it became impossible not to write.

In this story, Bunny is the reader but we view most of the story from Bucky’s side so there’s no use of you during the story. We don’t know what the reader is up to, how she feels about stuff. Only as much as Bucky knows or sees. That’s why the reader is mentioned as she mostly.

>> indicates incoming messages and << indicates outgoing messages in this story.

This story is not exactly how it seems but I don’t want to spoil it by revealing things too soon. Just stick around, if you wanna know how things will turn out to be.

Again, a big thank you to @notafunkiller for helping me every step of the way. She helped me the moment I felt stuck or something felt off, beta read the whole story and turned this into a readable piece. Thanking her won’t be enough. I would literally add her as a co-writer if that was possible on Tumblr.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me as long as it’s not a hate comment. They are never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he should do this. He looked at the paper Natasha handed him and then back at the screen again. The internet browser was open for a while, but he couldn’t decide what to do. It felt weird to be in this position. It didn’t feel right… but why was it wrong again? She was sharing her own content: whatever she was comfortable with. They were all there for people to see if they wanted to, right? He took a deep breath, started to type the link Natasha wrote down for him, and pushed enter quickly before he changed his mind.

The page loaded quickly, but all he could see was her profile picture and the header. There was a huge subscribe button and under it, he could see how many posts she had, different subscription options, etc. He scrolled back up to look at her photos. They were not clickable, but her profile picture was her in blue lingerie and cute bunny ears, which made him smile for a second. Then he looked at the header. She was on all fours, staring directly into the camera. It was a different look. Not that “I’m trying to look sexy” look that usually turned him off when it came to porn. It felt genuine somehow. How genuine it could be under these circumstances…

He looked at her profile picture for a while, thinking what could go wrong? A lot of people were doing this, weren't they? Some people were making money, some were paying for it. It wasn't that different from buying a dirty magazine. No, actually this was better because she had all the creative control over her own content. She was the one putting it out there. If that was not consent, then what was? He quickly created an account for himself, using a new email account like Natasha suggested. He didn’t need anyone to find out about this.

The next part felt like falling into a rabbit hole because dear god… She looked gorgeous! She had some free content that didn’t show much. Different poses in different lingerie. The photos were serving their purpose, making you want to subscribe and see more… of her. So he kept looking for a while.

There was something about her that made her so much more attractive, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He clicked next, looking at her pic in front of the mirror, with her legs wide open, but not actually showing anything. The slight smile on her face was warm and inviting. He knew he had no other option than to subscribe and see all of her content. He needed to see more.

The process didn't take long. After unlocking the special content, he just stared at the screen. How can she be real? He palmed his face, feeling nervous like he was on a first date with this attractive woman. He knew he wasn't. She was way out of his league, but he still felt nervous and intrigued while checking out all the content. There were so many different options and he didn’t know where to start.

At first, he decided to go slow and just check a couple of nude photos. The pics were in order, showing her getting rid of one piece of clothing with each new shot. It started with her fully dressed, looking super sexy: short skirt, modest cleavage, looking all cute. First, the skirt was gone, then her top, and she was left standing in her pastel pink lingerie that covered her chest completely, but it was lacy and see-through. It was fitting her like it was custom-made. He couldn’t stop himself and kept swiping, finding different concepts. His cock was pressed against his pants, aching for attention as he was unable to look away.

After spending god knows how long on her profile, Bucky finally couldn’t take it anymore. This was the point of all this, wasn’t it? Creating the need at the right time to please himself, so he wouldn’t get random erections during the missions… He unzipped himself and finally freed his cock. Still, his hands didn’t go there directly. He kept looking at her profile, discovering other features: like videos she uploaded while getting off!

“Dear god…” He gulped after seeing the thumbnail. She had a dildo in her hand. There was no way he was not going to click on this. No way!

He watched her taking her sweet time, teasing herself and, of course, the viewers, then getting really wet and adding lube on top of it before she pushed the dildo inside. The moan she let out sent a powerful jolt through his whole body. It was so beautiful and felt so fucking authentic, nothing like those fake, unrealistic porn moans. They were always a huge turn-off. This, on the other hand, was too much to handle. His cock was dripping so much precum, begging him for some attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. Either it never happened or it was so long ago, it doesn’t matter anymore.

He finally reached for the lube, poured a generous amount into his flesh hand, and quickly grabbed his cock. 

“Fuck.” It felt so sensitive. Like he had been edged for the last hour. Maybe he had been… after all the content he went through.

His fingers were loose, moving up and down slowly while the most beautiful girl he ever laid eyes on was pleasing herself on the screen. He didn’t want this to end too soon. He wanted to take his sweet time and maybe imagine she was the one doing this to him. That was a nice image: her between his legs, looking up at him with those big eyes while she moved her hand up and down slowly, torturing him, not letting him come until she said so.

His breath shuttered at the thought, his fingers moving faster than before, like they have their own mind. His cock was grateful, but no, he didn’t want to come before the video was done. Somehow it felt like disappointing your date during your first sex.

Luckily, she started to shatter, moaning as she came on the dildo she was riding. And the noises she made immediately sent him over the edge. 

“F-f-fuck,” he slurred as he started to come. It felt good, really good. He lost himself in pleasure and kept stroking until he emptied himself. Until he felt that overstimulation creeping in. That was when he noticed he closed his eyes. When he opened them back up, the video was done and the black screen with a play again button welcomed him. 

Disappointment washed over him. She wasn't there with him. Even if he came before the video was done, she wouldn’t know. There was no one to disappoint. He was alone in his bedroom, jerking off to a computer screen, but in his defense, the girl was hot. Really hot.

He took a deep breath, letting himself enjoy the afterglow. That was the point of all this: enjoying small stuff like satisfaction without going through the tedious process of meeting new people. He reached for the wet wipes and cleaned himself quickly. As he clicked the exit button on the video, he saw another one. It must be old because she looked a bit younger, and her hair was a little lighter. Also, it looked like a short one so he clicked on it.

“Hey. Thank you so much for subscribing.” This was the first time he heard her voice. It was soft and calm. “I know this isn’t conventional, but I enjoy sharing content like this. Don’t judge me if you don’t wanna be judged, okay?” She winked and god, it was adorable. “I'll try to share new content every Wednesday. I hope to see you here. Feel free to message me if you like. Take care.”

If he hadn’t come thirty seconds ago, he would have gotten hard again after hearing her voice. He was glad even the super soldier serum had some limits. Before his body could recover from his intense orgasm, he closed the window and decided to go take a shower.

-------

The next week passed in a blur. There were missions, briefings, and someone’s birthday… He didn’t care whose. It was not someone from the main team, that was all he knew. He was eating his cake in the corner, minding his own business when Natasha sat next to him.

“Hey.” She tried to sound as casual as possible.

“Hey.”

“You look better.”

Bucky looked at her confused.

“Does that supposed to be a compliment, Romanoff?”

“It’s a simple statement, Barnes. It looks like you took my advice and gave yourself a break.” Bucky averted his gaze from her. “No accidental erections during missions, congrats.”

“It was one time, Natasha. One time. When will you let it go?”

“Whenever you tell me about your… experience.”

“My experience?” He looked back at her, with the same confused expression all over again.

“I wanna know if you liked her or not. I don’t need details.”

“Why do you care so much about it? She’s just a random girl.” He lied to her. She wasn’t. At least not to him. He had been checking her account anytime he got a chance. This whole week, he had been masturbating more than he ever did before. Sometimes even the thought of her was turning him on so randomly, he was starting to get worried, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself from checking for updates.

She was sharing content very regularly. Sometimes they were new photoshoots, and sometimes just random cute photos in pajamas. He didn’t know which content he was looking forward to the most. All he knew was he loved how genuine it felt she was.

“I’m just noisy. So tell me…”

“Yes, Natasha, I like her. She’s cute and hot, exactly what I was looking for. What do you want, a thank you?”

Bucky really had no idea how Natasha managed to hit the bull's eye when she suggested this girl to him. She was absolutely his type, so he could say thank you for this, but nothing more.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you.” It was Natasha’s turn to feel confused because in all the time they spent together with Barnes, he never once thanked her. This was a first.

“Wow. You really like her.” She sounded proud of herself.

“Hey, Buck!” The moment Bucky heard Sam’s voice, he jumped off the couch. He didn’t want to spend another minute talking about his irrational crush with Natasha. It was pointless.

-------

As the time passed, Bucky felt like he was addicted to her content. He was checking his phone much more often than before, just to see if she shared something. He didn’t notice it until Sam pointed it out and asked if he got a girlfriend or something. He quickly denied that possibility, finding a lame excuse. He wasn’t sure if Sam bought it or not, but he definitely needed to check his phone less often. 

When he came back home, he felt so tired. The whole day was full of meetings and he let himself be consumed by the details just not to think about her. It was Wednesday, which meant new content,  yet he still tried to stay away from his phone. 

He literally consumed every content she ever shared. There was no photo or video on her profile he didn't see. There were some he masturbated to more than once. He just wanted to take a step back and if he could manage this, he would feel less of a creep. The problem was he was home and he had nothing to do.

He tried to distract himself with food at first, and it only worked for 15 minutes. Then he took a shower, which took even less. Watching television didn’t even last more than 5 minutes, so he decided to go to sleep, but his mind kept wandering to her. He wanted to know what she shared and how she looked. Finally, he gave in and opened her profile… to see nothing. Since yesterday she shared literally nothing. That was so unlike her. She shared something every day and she never missed Wednesdays. He didn’t care about the lack of new content. It worried him that he doesn’t know if she was alright. Why wouldn’t she be? Maybe she was busy. He tried to calm himself down but falling asleep was impossible.

Then he made a promise to himself: if she won't share anything by noon the next day, he would message her. That thought calmed him down a little.

-------

The next day, Bucky forgot that he was trying to avoid checking his phone in public. His body was at work, but his mind was stuck on… her. He kept looking at her profile to see something, anything to assure himself you’re alright, but there was literally nothing. Complete silence. When it was finally noon, he had no patience left. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider sending a message, but he was just worried. And it didn’t occur to him that it was not his place to be concerned about this woman. 

He opened her profile and clicked on the direct messages feature. His mind was completely blank. He had no idea what to say, looking at the screen for a couple of seconds as he trying to collect his thoughts.

“Hey.” That’s all he could come up with. How to say you are worried about someone who has no idea you even exist? It was ridiculous, but there was no way he could just wait and do nothing. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I hope you are alright. You have been absent lately. It could be something totally personal, I know that, but you never miss Wednesdays. So I wanted to check in to see if you are fine. I really hope you are.”

He took a deep breath after he pressed send. It was a long shot for sure. He didn’t really expect an answer. Maybe a seen. And that would be more than enough.

-------

An unfamiliar chime got Bucky’s attention. It surely came from his phone, but he never heard that sound before. When he took his phone out and saw the notification, his heart skipped a beat, just for a second. It was a message from her. The nervous feeling spread through his body like poison, sweat pooling on his forehead before he even clicked on it.

>> Hey, handsome. Thank you for checking in. I have been a bit busy and sick at the same time. Not the best combo. Sorry for missing the content day. I will make it up next Wednesday.

Bucky looked at the message, a bit confused. He wasn’t interested when the new content was gonna drop. He just wanted to know if she was okay. Being busy and sick at the same time didn’t look so. Content should have been the last thing she should be worried about.

<< I’m not worried about the content, darling. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

He definitely didn’t expect her to respond this quickly, it didn’t even take a minute.

>> Really? I thought you’d miss me.

She was talking like she knew him personally. Like they have chatted before. It was weird and comforting at the same time.

<< I did miss seeing your cute little face, I’m not gonna lie, but I didn’t message you for that. Content can wait until you feel better.

>> My cute little face is a little bit unpresentable and I appreciate your concern. It’s refreshing to see someone actually cares how I am feeling instead of why I did not share anything lately.

<< I’m sure your cute little face is still the cutest thing on the face of the earth. I wouldn’t worry about being presentable.

>> Get ready for a jumpscare. 

He had no idea what that meant, but the text was followed by a selfie: her, in bed, looking rather exhausted, with a messy bun, cute pajamas, and a cup of tea in her hand. Bucky quickly googled what jumpscare means and came back to the messaging screen.

<< You clearly don’t know what jumpscare means. It would be me, in a dark hallway or an alley. That’s real jumpscare. This is a cute lady who needs a bit of time to recover.

>> First darling, now cute lady. Are you sure you aren’t 60 years old?

<< Why, do you have an age limit?

>> For my content? No. << And for other stuff?

>> The answer is still no, but are you?

<< 60? No. I’m 107.

>> How do you know how to use the app at 107? 

That question made Bucky laugh a little, but he chose to be honest.

<< If I don’t know something I just google it.

>> Shouldn't you be semi-dead at 107?

<< I should be fully dead yet I’m still here.

>> Your profile says 33. Why are you lying handsome?

<< Believe me, my body and soul are older than 33.

>> I kinda believe that because you are talking differently.

<< Is it why you are answering my messages?

>> That and I feel a bit lonely. Your message sounded cute. I usually end the conversation before it gets too far.

<< What’s too far for you?

>> When they start demanding private pictures or try to sext.

Bucky had to google once again what sext means, just to be sure, and it was exactly what he thought it would be.

<< But you sent them to me.

>> Just one picture. A sick selfie and you didn’t ask for it. I thought it would turn you off really badly and you would say take care and end the convo.

<< I still think you look cute.

>> I am starting to believe you might be cute as well.

-------

Bucky had no idea how things got this far with her. After that message, they were literally sending texting each other daily. Just checking in, asking random stuff, or getting to know each other. It was not the same every day. Sometimes it was just a couple of messages and dead silence. Sometimes they communicated all day, non-stop, but Bucky didn’t mind. He didn’t mind not talking to her every day. Knowing that she was okay gave him a bit of peace. Just a good morning or a good night message was enough to ease his anxiety. 

>> Good morning, handsome.

That was the text he woke up to, that made him smile almost all day. Every time he remembered her calling him handsome or taking time to send a message to him, it made him happy. It made him feel different than others. He knew that was not the case. Maybe she kept talking to him because he didn’t make her uncomfortable. Maybe she talked to others too. He had no idea, but whenever he thought about her messaging someone else, he felt a faint pain in his stomach. He knew this feeling was irrational, so he avoidedto think about it as much as possible.

<< Good morning, bunny.

<< Is your favorite color pink? He randomly asked as he had been doing all week. The question came to him because he noticed she wore that color a lot.

>> No, it’s light blue. Why?

<< You wear pink a lot, that’s why I asked.

>> That’s what they like. Most men still think blue is a manly color.

<< You look divine in blue. It’s their loss really.

Her answer was a picture of her in blue lingerie. It surprised him because that photo was not on her profile. He remembered seeing this set, but not this exact photo. He kept looking at the pic for much longer than he should have. Another message woke him up from his trance.

<< I take that as you like it.

>> This photo is not on your profile.

<< No, it’s not.

>> But you feel fine sending it to me.

<< You said I look divine in blue. 

>> You do. I’m just surprised you sent me a photo you didn’t share before. I’m glad you feel comfortable.

<< I’m pretty comfortable talking to you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t talk to someone whose name I don’t know.

>> I don’t know your name either, bunny.

<< You are a smart man. Most assume this is my real name.

>> Using your real name would be an unnecessary risk.

<< Is that why you don’t call me Viv?

>> Maybe. I wasn’t doing it on purpose. Why are you calling me handsome?

<< I don’t know, I never really thought about it.

>> Yeah, exactly. You don’t know what I look like but you are calling me handsome.

<< I would love to see what you look like, but I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.

>> I’m sure what you are imagining is much better than the reality, bunny.

<< Why do you call me bunny?

>> Because of your profile photo. The bunny ears. You look really cute.

-------

Bucky was in the middle of debriefing. After a really long mission, he was finally back in New York. He wondered if Bunny messaged him. That was what he’d been calling her in his mind for a while and suddenly, he realized it might be too weird. Was he getting too creepy? Too comfortable? They didn’t even know each other properly. The last time they talked, she asked him why he didn’t use Viv. Maybe that was a signal for him to go for the fake name instead of his nickname.

“Barnes.” Fury’s voice brought him back to reality.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you want to add anything else.” His voice was firm.

“No, no. Romanoff covered it well.”

“Good. Rest for a couple of days. We will be going back to finish what we started.”

When Bucky finally reached out for his phone, Natasha was smiling in the corner.

“Does he have a secret girlfriend?” Sam asked.

“Maybe. I have no idea.” She lied.

-------

>> Good morning, old man.

>> Busy day?

>> I got a funny story to tell you, but you aren’t around.

>> Please tell me I didn’t offend you with the nickname.

>> I am messaging you a lot, aren’t I? I should leave you alone.

>> I’m sorry…

Bucky’s heart was racing as he read the messages. He should’ve warned her about not being online for a while. Instead, she thought she did something wrong. He looked at the message screen, trying tocome up with a good response to assure her that he wasn’t offended. He was an old man after all. What was there to get offended?

<< Hey. I’m sorry. I was away for work. There was no signal. I did not see your messages before. 

<< Just know that you never bother me. You can message me as much as you want. Whenever you want and I will answer when I can.

<< And you know I should be the one to worry if I’m bothering you or creeping you out. Not you.

<< If you still wanna tell me that funny story, I’m here to listen, Viv.

Bucky wasn’t sure if she would reply. After all, she didn’t get a message from him for a while. Maybe he’d already lost his chance… But then his phone chimed.

>> Viv? Where did Bunny go?

>> 🐰

<< You want me to call you Bunny?

>> I got used to it.

<< Okay, Bunny. If that’s what you want.

This made him feel better. Maybe he was just overthinking. She didn’t seem to mind half of the things he was thinking about.

<< Should I get used to being called old man?

>> Does it bother you?

<< It doesn’t. I am an old man.

>> You are 33 if you didn’t lie while creating your profile.

<< Biologically, yes.

>> But you feel older, so you don’t mind.

>> I’m glad you are back.

<< I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you about work.

>> It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.

That last message broke his heart. He knew she was right. He didn’t owe her anything, but that wasn’t the reason why he was explaining himself. He was doing it because he wanted to, and a small part of him wanted to owe her an explanation. He also wanted her to owe him an explanation. Yet he knew that wasn’t the case.

<< Is that how you feel?

>> Isn’t that how I should feel? I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know what you look like. I just know I like talking to you. If that’s the only thing you are willing to do, then it’s fine by me. I mean you could be married or engaged and I wouldn’t know. So it’s fine, you don’t have to explain yourself.

Bucky looked at the message for a while, digesting what she was saying. She was right. She had no information about who he was while he had access to her all of her content and now private messages. She was completely exposed, and he didn’t even share his name with her. Why would she trust him? Why would she owe him any explanation at all?

<< It’s James.

>> Nice to meet you, James 🐰

>> You have such a beautiful name. 

-------

After he shared his name with her, something changed between them. Something subtle, but it meant a lot to Bucky. It felt like she was more open, and more curious now. 

>> What are you wearing?

Bunny’s question caught him off guard. He looked at himself in panic. He was sitting on the floor, only with his boxers on, so there was no way he could tell her the truth.

<< Pajamas, you?

>> What kind of pajamas? I’m guessing old man pajamas but…I never saw an old man in old-school pajamas. Maybe you can show me.

Shit, shit, shit.

Lying to her was a huge mistake. He had no pajamas to put on. He only had a couple of pants, and henleys, and maybe three jackets. Natasha always made fun of him for wearing the same stuff over and over again. She was trying to hit a nerve so he would go buy something new, but it didn’t work, of course. Now, he wished it did.

He started to panic a little, looking around to find a solution. I could cover my body, a voice in his head said. And that’s what he did. He laid down, covered himself with his blanket, and took the picture. His face wasn’t in the frame, just the tip of his chin. Since he shaved this morning, his dimple was showing. He used his vibranium hand to take the selfie, and in this way, it looked like a normal photo.

It was too late when he noticed the fact that he laying on the floor, not in bed was visible. He cursed to himself while waiting for her answer. There was no way she wasn’t going to comment about the absence of the bed. No way.

>>  I am not seeing any pajamas or your body, old man. It is that bad?

Bucky took a breath of relief. Maybe she did not even notice. After all, she wanted to see him. Maybe she didn’t even pay attention to his surroundings.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. That thought changed his mind. He literally saw every part of her body. Sending a picture back in his boxers shouldn’t be a big deal, right? He stood up and extended his vibranium arm. The new selfie was quite similar except this time he was showing a lot of skin. Starting from the tip of his chin, he showed his upper body only. He looked at the photo before sending it: upper body and black boxers. No bare legs and no face.

>> I see no pajamas. And this body doesn't belong to an old man at all. Are you lying to me, James?🤨

He might have made a mistake by sending this picture. There was no way he could prove to her this is actually him. Especially after all that old man talk. While he was thinking about what he’s gonna do next, he got another message.

>> Cat got your tongue?

<< A bunny did actually.

>> You look good, James. Really good, but you don’t seem excited.

Her response confused him. 

<< Excited?

>> Maybe you need a photo to get excited.

Before he could ask what that means, she sent him a pic of her. Definitely not professionally taken. It’s her in front of the mirror, wearing only shorts and covering her naked breasts with one of her hands while taking the picture with the other. 

>> Hope this helps.

>> But if you wanna see more, you gotta share more.

<< You're very beautiful, bunny, but I hope you know this was not my intention. I was waiting for you to tell me that funny story.

Her response was another photo: a close up on her covered breasts. She looked like she was about to drop her hand and reveal it like he did not see them before.

>> I know.

>> So does this mean you're not excited? I was trying something here…

>> I can tell you the story if that’s what you’d rather do.

“Fuck…” Bucky cursed out loud. He was really good at this before. Flirting and finding the best possible response were easy back in the 40s, but it didn’t feel like that anymore. He was constantly worried about doing something wrong or creeping her out. He wanted to hear the story, but he really wanted to see her breasts too.

<< What do I have to do to see more?

>> I’ve just told you. Share more to get more.

Oh, so she wanted more photos of him, and he literally had no idea how to take flattering pictures.

>> Maybe start by showing me if the photos worked or not.

He looked down at himself and saw his rock-hard cock. How is he supposed to show her? Maybe I should mimic her photos. He touched the outline of his dick, making it a little more visible before taking a picture.

<< Is it clear enough?

>> Oh, you got really excited, didn’t you Jamie?

>> Not an old man after all.

He loudly groaned when he saw what she called him. Jamie. God! He felt a jolt of arousal the moment he read the nickname. He was sure he got even a little harder if that’s possible. 

Before he could find an answer, Bunny sent him another photo. This time her palm was stretched on her breasts, fingers not hiding much anymore, but still, her tits weren’t completely visible. Yet he could see how erect her nipple was. He already had a lot of dirty thoughts: like taking her nipple into his mouth and torturing her before giving in. He just didn’t know if he should voice them or not.

<< Oh, that nipple…

>> What about it?

<< You wanna hear what I am thinking about?

>> Well, since I’m trying to tempt you here… What do you think?

<< Fuck, Bunny. You have no idea what you are doing to me.

>> I am dying to hear it though.

Instead of telling her, Bucky decided to show her. He tried to position himself in front of the camera and take a good photo of his erection. He tried a couple of different angles, but it was a dick after all. Nothing he tried seemed to make it seem more appealing in his view. When he finally sent the picture, he added a small text.

<< How about I show you instead?

>> Oh my god!

>> You were hiding that from me all this time?

>> Damn, I feel robbed.

<< Does this mean you like it, doll?

>> Oh, that’s new.

>> And I like it.

>> Maybe even better than Bunny.

>> And yes, I am actually drooling right now even with that horrible angle. 

<< Horrible angle? How should I do this then? I never...

>> Do you want me to teach you, old man? Because I can.

<< I’m always open to learning new stuff. That’s the only thing you can always rely on.

>> Ohh, I love that. Open-minded, doesn’t mind taking criticism, no fragile masculinity. All very hot. 

>> Try taking a picture in front of the mirror maybe. Don’t take the picture from above or too down. Try to use eye level if you aren’t particularly doing something. That works better.

Using a mirror wasn’t a good idea for him. He could imagine the photos looking better like that, but there was no way he could hide his metal arm.

So instead of positionin his camera above, he tried to level it down, showing his full length and thickness. A photo didn’t seem to work so he decided to record a short video of him playing with himself: his flesh hand going up and down slowly on his full length. He couldn’t help but let a low moan when his hand brushed against the head. Fuck, imagining her seeing this… The idea turned him on even more. He got so excited that he forgot to check the video before sending it.

>> Fuck, James.

>> Fuck fuck fuck.

>> Your voice is so fucking hot.

>> And you are so aroused. Is it all for me?

<< It’s all for you, doll.

<< This is what you do to me. All the time. 

<< God, I wish you were here.

Bunny or Doll, he had no idea which one suits her better, sent a video as the response: her fingers, two of them, going in and out inside her. She was going pretty fast, indicating she had been doing this for a while, and there was a faint moaning in the background, which Bucky couldn’t get enough of. He watched the video twice before answering.

>> You are gonna be the death of me.

>> Are those fingers enough? Do you want a third one or maybe you would rather have a big dildo inside?

<< I would rather have you inside me.

After this point, everything felt like a blur. Things got out of hand, they kept exchanging photos and videos until they both got pretty powerful orgasms. Yet James found himself wanting more. So much more than she probably wanted to offer.

>>> Next Chapter

[flemingsfreckles]

Kind of a Big Deal

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: Jessie is humble, sometimes way too humble, as her new girlfriend it starts a fight when she fails to tell you important details about her career.

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: language

A/N: 👋

“I’m not looking forward to moving out at the end of the year, it’s going to be just as crazy as moving in was. What day are you planning to leave? I was thinking two days after my last final.” Bored of studying you decide to strike up a conversation with Jessie.

“Oh, I actually will have to move out earlier, I won’t be here for the end of the year, I’ll be out of town.” She speaks, not looking up from the table where her work sat.

“Since when and to where? Back home?” You looked up from your assignment to look at the girl sitting across from you.

“I’ve known for a few days. And sort of? Canada for a bit and then Japan.” She keeps her eyes on her assignment as if her news of international travel weren’t a big deal.

“Japan?! Are you even allowed to travel? I thought things were still restricted.” It was still a weird time, various restrictions on travel, some places allowing it, others not, your girlfriend had been relatively cautious with all the restrictions so you were surprised to hear of her plans.

“Well it’s like an organized thing for soccer.” She finally looks up from what she’s doing, giving a shrug as if the trip isn’t a big deal, just a standard trip for training. So you don’t bother to question her anymore.

“Oh cool.” You say before returning your attention to the textbook in front of you.

You knew Jessie played soccer, she had invited you to a few games in the fall, early on in your friendship. But beyond seeing her play for UCLA, she was pretty tight lipped regarding her playing. You knew she traveled a lot to play but she didn’t talk much about it so you didn’t pry. It wasn’t really your place to pry before. You knew the girl was shy, you didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

The two of you had only just recently started dating, you had danced around your feelings for each other for months, finally you asked Jessie out formally just last week, making her your girlfriend that same night. So you didn’t feel like it was your place to demand to know the details of her trip just yet, maybe once you’d been together for a bit, you’d feel it appropriate to ask questions about her travel soccer adventures.

You shrugged off her news of traveling, you hadn’t expected her to leave school early but you’d be alright, already planning on doing long distance all summer. It wasn’t until late that night that you realized what Jessie meant when she had said she was going to Japan. You were scrolling through Instagram and noticed a post from UCLA soccer with your girlfriend’s face and the words Tokyo Bound and the Olympic rings.

Your jaw dropped. And it dropped further when you read the caption. “Now a Two-Time Olympian! Congratulations to Jessie Fleming for being named to the Canadian Tokyo Olympic Roster.”

You couldn’t help but feel enraged at the post and at your girlfriend. You knew she was humble, but this was ridiculous. She had the opportunity to tell you this morning and she didn’t. You thought about calling her to give her a piece of your mind. Instead, thanks to college housing, you were able to slide off your bed and walk down the hall, down the stairs, to the floor your girlfriend lived on.

You knock hard on her door, her roommate and teammate Teagan answers. “Hi.”

“Jessie here?” You push past her after getting your answer, seeing your girlfriend’s head over the shoulder of Teagan. She’s sitting reading from a textbook. Hunched over her desk she didn’t see you coming up behind her. You close the book causing her to jump, turning around and pulling her headphones off to look at you.

Her initial reaction of fright is replaced with a big smile when she sees your face. “Hi!”

She clearly doesn’t read your bothered expression, joyfully greeting you. “You’re a fucking two time Olympian?!” You gently shove her shoulders back when she stands to hug you.

“And on that note, I’m going to go.” You hear Teagan say behind you before the door closes. Jessie doesn’t attempt to speak, she just looks at you.

It was one thing for her not to tell you, but now not answering you was making you even more angry. “Answer me!”

“Technically only one time Olympian, I haven’t gone to them this year yet.” She says, a sheepish look on her face. Her eyes shifted uncomfortably across the room.

“Oh my god!” Of course your perfectionist girlfriend wanted to take this moment to correct your thought process. “Why didn’t I know this? We’re dating!”

“It’s not that big of a deal. Teagan is one too.” She looks over to her roommates half of the room.

“I fucking knew Teagan was, she’s got the damn rings tattooed on her arm, and yes it is a big deal!” You let out a puff of air, frustrated by her behavior. “You have got to stop being so fucking humble, clearly you’re fucking good at soccer, it’s okay to admit that, it’s okay to own that.”

“Okay.”

“No, I’m serious Jessie because I don’t want to learn these things from Instagram! I want you to tell me. I want you to want to tell me, I’m your girlfriend for fucks sake! I already had to learn that you got All Team recognition for last season through Instagram because you didn’t tell me, and I know we weren’t dating then but we were friends! I had to learn through Instagram when you score at games I’m not able to attend because you’re too humble to gloat about yourself! It’s fucking ridiculous!

Jessie’s quiet, she blinks a few times at you, you stand there, waiting for her to say something, anything.

“Nothing? You don’t have anything to say?” Jessie’s habit of choosing silence during arguments and uncomfortable conversations getting on your nerves.

“I’m sorry?” She offers, but it sounds more like she’s guessing for what you want to hear.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. It feels pretty shitty to know your girlfriend doesn’t want to talk about her achievements to you.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just I’ve always been told even as a kid there’s someone better than me, I was taught not to gloat, it’s arrogant, and I know I shouldn’t bring her up but my previous ex never wanted to hear about it, she didn’t get called up to her national team as often as I did with Canada, when I’d mention something I was proud of she’d make smart comments or tell me off for ‘being a show off’, she started a huge argument with me when I signed to come play in college. All my life I’ve been told to not share those things, honestly I don’t know how. I also kind of figured you knew I played internationally.”

“How would I just know that?!” You’re not sure how you’d know any of these things without the woman telling you.

“Half of my wardrobe is Canada shirts and pants. And I don’t know, someone who plays soccer casually doesn’t travel to other countries!” She points to the sweatpants she’s currently wearing, they’re light gray with the country name and a maple leaf on the left leg.

“I just thought you really liked your country and I don’t know I’m not a sports person, you know that, I didn’t know traveling is specific to being a professional athlete.” You shrug at her, you do realize how silly it was to assume she was just a big fan of the country, but how were you supposed to know?

“To be fair you’ve never asked, I assumed you didn’t care.” She looks everywhere in the room except at your face.

“I do care Jessie! You’re just so tight-lipped, anytime I ask about soccer, if you did well, how your games were, if training was good, I get a short answer and you move on, you never bring up if you score, if you win, nothing, I always have to ask and it makes me feel like you don’t want me asking so I don’t!” You’re trying to defend your own thought process, it wasn’t like you intentionally didn’t ask Jessie, you just thought she didn’t want to tell you, so you didn’t ask.

Jessie just sits down, slumping back into her chair. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

You squat down to look at her face, she’s visibly upset, eyes glossy, lower lip being bit hard by her teeth. “Hey.” You grab her chin softly between your thumb and index finger, encouraging her to look at you. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for yelling, I just, I want to know these things, I want you to brag to me, I want to be able to brag about you, but to do that I need to know these things. I’d much rather learn you’re going to the Olympics, for the second time, from you and not some Instagram post. Does that make sense?”

She nods into your hand.

“I will never, not want to hear about your achievements. If it helps, I’ll ask more questions, but you’ll have to give me full answers to those questions. We can meet in the middle, okay?”

“Okay.” She gives you a soft smile.

“Okay.” You bend down your hand still on her chin, giving her a quick peck to her lips.

“So… you’re like, kind of a big deal then, aren’t you? My girlfriend’s an Olympian.” A smirk comes across your face, teasing your girlfriend.

She pulls her chin from your grasp and turns away trying to hide the growing blush on her cheeks. “Shut up.”

[sprinklesdonut15]

Tips For Making Unique Character Voices:

(For both narrating & dialogue)

Decide how formally they speak - this is also based on who they were raised around and what their timeline is, their race and culture, etc.

Know their overall volume of speech - maybe they speak loudly because in their past that’s the only way their voice was heard

There’s a hundred ways to say a sentence - sometimes this changes up in a person, but everyone has the way they word their sentences. Example: “what are you doing?” Can be “whatcha doing” “how goes it” “whaddya doing” “what are you up to” “what is chu doing” etc.

Self representation matters - if a person isn’t confident then they aren’t going to sound confident. But it’s not just about voicing confidence or not, there are details to every trait. If you’re character’s not confident then then they might question their choices a lot. They probably won’t judge other people except in high regards. Every personality trait has finer details

History also matters - maybe trauma makes it so your character gives extremely detailed answers to avoid confusion (anxiety). Maybe some kind of accident makes them speak less

There’s a difference in how much people speak - somewhat a follow up to the last point. But it’s not just personality that determines this but also illnesses. For instance my adhd makes me talk a lot nonstop, so much so that I might trip over words, or if I’m “narrating” then I go very out of order. People who don’t care much (depression) might only give vague or indecisive answers. Some people have long answers, some give one word answers.

People know different things - such as when your character is comparing something to their past. Even something simple, not all of your characters might know something like “this specific type of tree” but one character might because maybe it was a tree in their backyard. Characters knowledge determines their understand and ability to explain.

[milk-ly]

Fuuta and Mikoto as Character Foils

This amazing post talks about Fuuta's people pleasing tendencies and they mentioned how Mikoto is simillar, but does it in a different way. And I have NOT been able to stop thinking about it so I want to get my thoughts out about how Fuuta and Mikoto are character foils to each other.

Fuuta and Mikoto are pretty much complete opposites. They parallel in that they both desperately crave societal acceptance, but they differ in how they go about it. Mikoto tries to read the room and changes every aspect of himself in order to seem more friendly and amicable to fit in. He does things based on what he SHOULD do because it’s the societally accepted way to do things and he’ll be liked for it.

Fuuta doesn’t because it’s just how he is, his naturally fiery and argumentative temperament makes it hard for people to like him. It’s not that he doesn’t want to fit in but he isn’t willing to change himself the same way Mikoto is. Mikoto is friendly and approachable while Fuuta is the complete opposite.

But here’s the thing, he IS also like Mikoto in that regard because he is seen in MILGRAM actively changing himself in order to believe that he is that idealized self in Bring It On. He tries to be a representative for everyone and confronts Es for hurting Yuno during his t1 VD, despite having to hype himself up before charging up at them.

But still, no matter how hard he tries he can’t be that idealized self. He can’t fit in, because it’s not who he is. He wants to be accepted as himself! He wants friends he can share the same interests and opinions with to feel validated.

Portal Timeline conversation (2023/07/05):

Fuuta: "Oh, well. I guess I can understand a bit now. When you're feeling down, it's nice to have someone to rely on, someone who accepts you."

It's why Mikoto thinks Fuuta’s immature because Fuuta's unable to fit into society and "be an adult" like Mikoto can. Mikoto thinks that once you grow up, you need to buckle down and start conforming or else you'll never get anywhere in life. To him, it's disgraceful to be angry because it's frowned upon, and Fuuta's pretty much in a constant state of rage, which is why Fuuta has such a hard time finding acceptance. Every time they talk, they’re criticizing each other. Their first ever conversation starts with Mikoto lecturing Fuuta about how he can’t and won’t fit in and it (rightfully) ticks him off, especially since Mikoto can. It’s why they’re at each other's throats like every time they interact (which is pretty little). Mikoto even straight up has a line in the earbud collab about how Fuuta will never get any girls.

Fuuta is constantly considered by others as “immature” and “childish” such as Kazui saying that it's okay for Fuuta to be cocky because he's young or how Fuuta is constantly linked to games (typically associated with children). Or the fact that the lyrics from Bring It On: ""Kono yubi tomare" [is] a traditional saying from a traditional kid’s game."

On the flip side, Mikoto is constantly reminding people that he’s a working adult. Not to mention, Mikoto tends to hang around the older prisoners more (the smoker trio) while Fuuta interacts with the younger prisoners the most. (Amane, Haruka, and sometimes Muu)

Mikoto wants to be a cog in the machine and believes that if he works hard enough, he'll be able to make it in the workforce. Fuuta actively criticizes the workforce and how it's useless to work too hard, so he "goes with the flow."

There are so many smaller details too that emphasize their foil. Mikoto smokes, Fuuta hates smoking. Mikoto's voice is high and whiney while Fuuta's is deep and aggressive. Fuuta has an older sister while Mikoto has a younger sister. Both their parents are divorced but Fuuta is missing his mother while Mikoto is missing his father. However, one similarity is that they both SEEM to have good opinions about their moms while having questionable ones with their dads.

Something else I think about a lot is how Fuuta parallels with John. Especially concerning these lines from John when you realize John is pretty much the opposite of Mikoto too:

John might be the person Mikoto wishes he was. Someone who stubbornly stands their ground, someone who tries stand up for themselves and “gives people their just desserts.” Sounds rather familiar to a certain red-head, I must say.

In addition, they share a lot more similarities too, like their connection to the bright colour red, contrasted by Mikoto's light blue. They both have short tempers and jump at Es as a defence mechanism, in contrast to Mikoto having a fawn response and laughing everything off. They both use the first-person pronoun "ore" while Mikoto uses "boku." Both Fuuta and John have a deeper and more aggressive tone in comparison to Mikoto. Fuuta's symbolism as a brave knight protecting the weak and punishing evil parallels John protecting the "weak" (Mikoto) and acting as his saviour from threats. Mikoto couldn't stand up for himself so John did it for him, Fuuta "stood up" for the people hurt by the actions of the people he cancelled.

To add on to that, Mikoto’s name in kanji means “noble” or “revered.” Words that remind you of royalty, or a prince. (Boy princess fr fr) John being his saviour makes him his knight in shining armour. Matching with Fuuta’s knight symbolism!

Mikoto envies these traits in Fuuta yet hates them and purposefully suppresses them within himself because it's not socially acceptable to act like him. Fuuta likely similarity envies people who can fit in, like Mikoto. Perhaps the reason why the two are so irked by the other is that they each embody traits the other admires yet can't have.

But in the end, they both can’t really fit into “normal” society. Mikoto, who claims he can, is suffering to the point of breaking. Fuuta, who tried and finally found an ounce of acceptance and ally ship in his online buddies, ended up getting carried away and causing the death of someone.

I'm really surprised I haven’t really seen this mentioned or discussed very much. Sorry if it’s really obvious, I just wanted to point some stuff out. Anyway man, I love these two a lot and I would love to see more stuff diving into these two in a canon context too.

[captainwans]

FROM WHERE YOU ARE.

— ALEX TURNER

pairing: alex turner x fem! actress! reader

summary: while she didn’t care about the distance between them, alex couldn’t help but feel responsible for her exhaustion from traveling this far, especially when the distance was longer.

warning: mild swearing, matt being a tease, and nothing but sweet rotting fluff, friends to lovers trope!

word count: 3,9k | ( gif not mine! )

arabella series!

masterlist!

…. [Y/N]’S SHOES CLANKED ON THE HARD WOODEN FLOOR, THE SOUND OF HER HEELS ECHOING ACROSS THE HALL AS SHE PACED WITH HER STEPS. Much to her dismay, the actress was late and missed the concert, and to say that she was devastated was an understatement. She spent the last three hours on a train trying to get there, which was something she wouldn’t tell Alex. Knowing him he would’ve lost his mind and attempted to drive her back himself. She received a sweet message from him, reassuring her that it was not a problem at all and that he was just happy that he was going to see her again. Her cheeks flushed at his message and she read it multiple times, his words planted inside her mind like a mantra.

The pair had been inseparable ever since she was cast as the lead woman in their music video, Arabella, not to mention an inspiration behind the song itself. With her oblivious nature, she had no idea whatsoever. But, what better way than to announce this at a Comic-Con panel in front of thousands of people

She remembered being caught off guard by this question, not expecting to get questions regarding other aspects of her life other than Marvel-related questions. She did answer, though, stating that she had no idea with a sheepish look. Her comment made the crowd react, even her cast members gave her weird looks due to the song's popularity. At that moment, she made a mental note to listen to the song right after the event.

[Y/N] was awe-struck, not only by the song but also by how his voice conveyed a range of different vocals. She recalled pondering over some familiarity in his voice, feeling that she had heard his voice somewhere before but couldn't pinpoint exactly where. The lyrics of Arabella made her ears perk up with curiosity, being impressed by the small details that could only be referred to from the movie she shot. She fell in love with the song and his voice. His delicate voice and poetic words were the only things that were blasting through the speakers in her trailer, annoying the rest of her cast members.

“[Y/N], would you please turn it down, some of us have to sleep,” The Black Widow actress pleaded, her tone tinted with annoyance as she slowly entered inside her trailer. She watched [Y/N]’s cheeks redden, muttering a small apology before lowering the volume.

“Sorry, Scar, it won’t happen, again.” she sheepishly said, adjusting her glasses that rested on her delicate features whilst her eyes trailed over her script that was placed into her hands. She watched her friend from the corner of her eyes, feeling her presence behind her.

“Arctic Monkeys? Oh, was that the boyband that wanted you in their music video?” Scarlett asked her, eyes sparkling as her eyes looked at her computer screen. She took a look at the group, eyes lingering longer on the lead vocalist. She chuckled, giving her friend a knowing look. “I see why you’re so hooked, look at him,” she poked her waist, making [Y/N] squirm as her lips emitted a small squeak.

“Scarlett–please, stop!” she whined, slapping her hand away before shifting in her seat to make room for her to sit, which she happily obliged. A tint of dust painted her cheeks, lips curving up unknowingly when the lyrics of one of her favorite songs so far, played in the background.

“But I crumble completely when you cry,” Alex’s voice filled inside her eardrums, making her let out a content sigh as she looked down at the script that she was supposed to memorize. She had been stuck on a line for the past fifteen minutes, and she blamed it on his voice. It was addicting—like a drug and she couldn’t resist.

[Y/N] smiled, putting her papers on the table in front of her before turning her attention to her friend, who was nodding her head to the music, her eyes narrowed and focused. She chuckled as she watched Scarlett make a face, signaling that she liked what she was hearing. “They’re very good. I don’t know why you haven’t said yes.”

She grinned, rubbing the back of her neck before she laid her head on her shoulder. “They’re amazing, Scar. And I said yes. I’m gonna be meeting with them in a week. We’re actually gonna film a few hours away from the set, meaning that I can tell you everything about it.” she chimed, eyes crinkling from smiling.

Scarlett clapped with a bright smile, expressing her support for her. She hugged her best friend, squeezing her tight. “I’m so happy for you. This is so exciting. Alex is gonna lose his mind over your beauty, I mean look at you, girl. Heck–even I would risk it all for you.” she told her with a wink, making [Y/N] burst out in laughter as they leaned into each other.

She cursed at herself, mumbling incoherent words as she was looking for Alex and Miles, holding her phone up to her face whilst she was trying to read the address Alex sent her. She squinted her eyes and blinked a few times to shake away her exhaustion, the never-ending filming and traveling resting on her shoulders. The three-hour ride seemed to be her last straw before she could collapse at any second, but she had her painkillers and a few cups of coffee to keep her up, for a while.

The sound of Alex’s laughter seemed to cease some of her drowsy state and she fastened her pace, her feet leading her to one of the waiting rooms backstage. She scoffed with a chuckle, listening to Miles’ banter and his comment made her roll her eyes. She cleared her throat, bringing her hand to the door and giving it a little push as she made an appearance.

“I heard that, Miles!” [Y/N]’s voice echoed across the room, earning a cheerful laugh from the latter, along with the rest of them as she made an appearance with a playful expression toward the singer, who put his guitar away and dashed toward her with a beaming grin. “Speaking of the devil. Hello, love.”

[Y/N]’s chest vibrated from laughter and sank into his embrace, patting his back. “It’s good to see you, Miles. Sorry, I couldn’t make it to the concert to watch you live, but I watched it on my phone. You guys were incredible, as always.” she gushed, pulling away as she mirrored his grin.

Miles gave her a look of gratitude, kissing her forehead. “It’s alright, [Y/N],” he brushed her off with a gentle squeeze on her bicep. He brought her to his side again, side-hugging her before leading her to the rest of the team. “Please, if we’re speaking about a performance, you killed it in the Winter Soldier.” she heard Jamie say, earning a few nods and chimes at his statement.

Crimson danced across her cheeks, making her move her gaze away from Miles to the others in the room, some lazily spread across the couch and others standing beside the food table. Her smile widened, noticing the rest of the band, and her eyes shamelessly searched for a certain vocalist but were abruptly interrupted by being pulled into another embrace by Jamie, Nick, and Matt, who squeezed her making her let out a choked laugh.

“Oh, I’ve missed you guys so much!”

“Don’t squeeze her to death, lads,” Alex’s voice filled her ears, causing her heart to skip a beat, feeling the rush of blood through her ears. Her muffled giggles were enough to put a soft smile on Alex’s handsome features, watching her pull away from the group before turning her body around to meet him.

[Y/N] let out a content sigh, a gentle smile reaching her features before launching herself into his arms, her arms around his waist as she hid her face onto his chest. She felt exhaustion hit her like a tidal wave, making her feel drowsy, and she closed her eyes for a second to feel his arms around her.

Alex felt his cheeks flush, being self-aware by the looks the others were giving them, but that soon disappeared when she gently squeezed his waist, her hands rubbing his back comfortably. “Hello, gorgeous,” he whispered into her ear, brushing a hand over her hair as he closed his eyes, taking in her scent.

The pair pulled away, both smiling ridiculously at each other, but that moment was shortly interrupted by Miles who made gagging sounds, earning laughs from the others. “Take it somewhere else, love birds. You guys are disgustingly cute, it makes me wanna gag,” he whined, gripping his guitar before taking a seat beside Nick.

[Y/N] scoffed, a frown etched onto her features as she pulled Alex closer to her side. She felt his hands caressing her waist, gently rubbing circles around her skin. “Like you’re the one to talk. You get to have him all by yourself on the stage. Yeah, I’ve seen the videos, Miles.” she sassed back, making Alex burst out in laughter, his chest vibrating.

Miles’ face reddened, making him shake his head with laughter. Nick, who was beside him, was dying of laughter and pushed him to the side. “Touche, love.”

[Y/N] giggled, eyes turning back to Alex, whose eyes were already on her, staring at her lovingly. She bit her lip, eyes darting across his lips before shyly diverting her gaze away. He watched her turning her attention back to the others, having a conversation with Matt and his girlfriend, Breana, who came in a little late and became ecstatic when she saw her presence.

She was sitting at the edge of the couch, her body turned across the others who were comfortably sitting on the other couch while Alex was standing beside her, practically leaning against her, which she didn’t mind at all, enjoying his close presence with his hand playing with the hem of her cardigan.

[Y/N] felt a sudden bursting pain at the back of her skull, searing through her temples making her grimace with a look of discomfort. She clenched her jaw with furrowed eyebrows, eyes focusing on Breana, but as the minutes passed her voice became fainter, along with the rest of the room. As much as she tried to hold it in, her tiredness stole the character from her eyes, leaving them blank and hollow.

“And it was a really important moment for me, you know…” Breana’s voice echoed inside her ears, making her squint her eyes before placing a hand on her temples, feeling her sides throbbing rather aggressively.

“I didn’t know her story took that of a toll on you,” Matt spoke, watching her friend covering a hand on her face, earning a few chuckles. Breana laughed, placing a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry if my stories bore you out, babe, I’ll shut up.” she joked, squeezing her arm making her wince at the spot where she accidentally landed on her arm when filming a scene.

[Y/N] chuckled from the pain, feeling the spot burning. She felt guilt prickling at her chest, making her look up to her friend, giving her an apologetic smile. “You never bore me, Bre,” she told her sheepishly, standing up from her seat to get her bag to get her painkillers. “Sorry…It’s just uh–” she let out a weary sigh, a sound with the heavy weight of exhaustion bubbling up the surface, making her stop talking as she forgot what she was about to say in the first place.

Alex, who had been eying her for a while, was the first one to speak. “Are you alright, love?” he asked with a concerned look, reaching out to her as she watched her halt with her steps. He grunted at the sudden weight of her body falling against him, and his frown deepened when he felt her shallow and ragged breathing. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just need to sit down, that’s all,” she reassured, leading them both back towards the couch, making Miles and Nick shoot up from their seat to make some room for the duo.

Breana’s eyebrows furrowed with concern and she kneeled in front of her, her warm hands resting on her neck, brushing a few hair strands away from her damp forehead. “[Y/N], babe, do you need some water?” she softly asked, her voice getting smaller, as if she spoke any louder she would break at any second.

Matt stood up from his seat, “I’ll get her some water.”

[Y/N] squeezed her eyes shut, fingers rubbing her tired eyes as the buzzing inside her head filled every crack of her brain, rattling every bone making her let out a shaky exhale. “Yes, I–I, uh…I have some painkillers inside my bag..” she stuttered out, feeling her cheeks flush as she looked at her friend with a sheepish look.

Alex turned in his seat, his eyes searching for her bag. His hand grabbed the hold of her purse, his hands roaming inside to look for her painkillers. Matt returned and opened the lid of the water bottle, giving it to his girlfriend, which she took and looked back at Alex to see him holding a pill.

“I’m sorry, guys. This is embarrassing…” [Y/N] said in a soft tone, her voice turning smaller as she accepted the water from Breana’s hands before turning to Alex and taking the painkiller from his hands. Her hands took hold of the small pill, her hands lingering for a moment before clutching her hand and downing the pill with water. She felt him shift, one of his hands resting on her thigh, rubbing small circles to cease some of her pain.

Nick frowned, standing behind her. “For being under the weather? [Y/N], there’s no need to apologize,” he reassured, patting her shoulders with a comforting smile.

Jamie nodded his head with a thoughtful expression, “Yeah, I mean, your job is no better than us. I can’t imagine filming all day on set and—” he trailed off, but once he looked at Alex’s glare his mouth closed and he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry, [Y/N].”

[Y/N]’s lips curved upwards at his apology and she shook her head with a small smile. “Don’t sweat it.” she gently brushed him off and took a few sips before placing the bottle on the table in front of her. “You’re not wrong though. We’ve been filming intensively these past few weeks and staying up all night with the others to perfect the script. I haven’t really got the time to do anything else outside filming and I missed you guys–” she voiced her thoughts before Matt interjected with one of his cheeky remarks.

“Guys? I think that applies to only one person, and he’s sitting beside you right now.” Matt chimed, his eyes sparkling with a tint of mischief. This earned a slap on his shoulder, and he hissed looking at Breana, who gave him a disapproving look. “Oh, way to ruin the moment, Matthew.”

Alex’s heart stuttered against his chest, feeling blood rushing through his cheeks as he looked at [Y/N] with his lips curving upwards. His smile soon turned into a look of annoyance at the fact that his bandmate interrupted her and he let out a sigh. “Shut up, you dickhead. Let her talk.” he bluntly said, his brown eyes piercing through Matt’s, making him put his hand up in surrender with the same grin etched onto his features.

Alex’s comment made the others burst out in laughter, including [Y/N] who turned around in her seat to look at him, her chest vibrating with laughter, making him join her, her laughter being music to his ears. She grabbed his bicep, giving it a little squeeze before clearing her throat. She wiped a lone tear away from her eyes and chuckled. “Thank you, Al. Wait, what were we talking about again?” she contemplated, closing one eye in deep thought, and making Breana laugh.

Miles, who sat across from the pair, played a soft tune on his guitar before asking her. “Since, we’re talking about your job, where’s your set located in? I know Alex told me you were filming near this area..?”

[Y/N] bit her lip with a nod, internally cursing at how her white lie had come this far and she definitely didn’t want to say that it was three hours, knowing that Alex would lose his mind for traveling this far to get here. She remembered Scarlett teasing her and gushing about her heart eyes towards him, calling her a lovesick puppy.

“Oh, you’re in love, honey. It’s so cute. You’re like a lovesick puppy. But I must say…this look—” Scarlett stopped mid-sentence, gesturing with her hand, making [Y/N] want to roll her eyes. “It looks good on you, [Y/N].”

“Yeah…uh–It’s located in…” she trailed off, mumbling the rest of her sentence in a hushed tone and covered it up with a forced cough.

Miles frowned, leaning his body against his guitar as he moved his head toward her. “What? I didn’t hear what you said there, love.” she gave him a sheepish grin, heat washed over as crimson danced across her cheeks. She felt Alex inch closer, almost feeling his breath against her neck making her breath hitch. She grew hot and cleared her throat, name-dropping the location, which made Miles’ eyes wide.

“Isn’t that three hours away from here?” Nick, Matt, and Breana nodded to confirm his question, making [Y/N] close her mouth, feeling her heartbeat inside her ears. She licked her lips, feeling Alex’s burning gaze on her and she turned around to meet with his confused expression.

Alex looked back and forth from Miles and to [Y/N], his frown deepening. “Three hours? Didn’t you tell me that it was half an hour from here?” He questioned, and her chest prickled at the sound of his voice.

The rest looked at each other, a look of amusement plastered onto their faces as they watched the pair. Matt was leaning into Jamie, who looked at the couple with a grin and Breana could sense another remark coming from her boyfriend and she slapped his arm, giving him a warning look.

[Y/N] gave him a tip-lipped smile, eyes looking anywhere than him. “I did? Oh well..” she admitted, giving him a small shrug, and Alex looked at her like she had grown two heads.

Alex shook his head, his face turning into a deep scowl. His stomach clenched at the fact that she was traveling this long to see him. He could also feel his heart flutter at her commitment, but that soon faded away as his mind went back to her current state. He inched closer, his rough calloused hands grabbed her arm, gently squeezing it. “No, wait. Hold on a second. You’re telling me that you drove three hours to come here, and you’re planning on driving back?”

[Y/N] tilted her head to the side, giving him another shrug. “So?” she replied back, not seeing his point and she gave him a look to elaborate with a hand gesture. This made the others erupt into another pit of laughter, gushing over how adorable [Y/N] was and Matt couldn’t help but crawl over to Alex, making kissing sounds and grabbing his shoulders. “You two are so adorable!”

Alex jerked away from his touch and cursed at him, his annoyance bubbling up through the surface. He stood up from the couch, leading [Y/N] with him as they walked over to the food table. “Can’t even get a fucking break..” he mumbled under his breath, but enough for her to hear and she stifled back a laugh.

Her gaze diverted away from the others toward Alex, watching him leaning against the table as he gave his bandmate a look of disdain. Her eyes softened, feeling her chest tighten as her mind went back to the conversation a few moments ago. She crossed her arms like two swords, inching closer to him. “It’s really not a big deal, Al. We planned this, remember? It was the only day that fit our schedule.” she reminded him with a nudge on his hip, earning a small smile from the singer.

Alex looked at her, his eyes lingering on her face as he memorized every detail. He clenched his jaw, bringing a hand over his mouth before voicing his thoughts. “I know, I just…don’t want it to go over at the expense of your health. You could’ve just told me that you weren’t feeling well, and I would’ve understood that, darling.” he shared, his expression turning into a concerned look.

[Y/N]’s eyes danced, mirroring the swarm of butterflies inside her stomach as she looked at him with a fond expression. She hummed with a simper. “I know.” she sheepishly replied with a nod, hiding her hands inside her oversized cardigan and looking up at him. What she was going to do next even surprised her and she wondered where she got that confidence from. “But…I wanted to see you. Traveling for me is not a problem, heck–I could fly out here just to see you, even if it’s for a few minutes.” she expressed, her brave moment instantly disappearing as she realized what she just said out loud, leaving her a complete stuttering mess.

Alex caught his breath at her words, his brain trying to process what just came out of her delicate lips that he craved so for a taste. His lips curved upwards unknowingly, his eyes tinted with slight amusement at her stuttering mess. “Shit, did I just say that out loud?” he bit his lip with a nod, a smirk etched onto his features as he came closer.

“Yeah, and I’m so glad that you said it.” [Y/N]’s smile widened, inching closer to reach out, removing a few hair strands away from his face. Her hand lightly brushed his jaw, fingers lingering on his skin, slowly moving down to his lips.

Alex closed his eyes for a second, melting at her soft and gentle touch. His hand hovered over hers, placing her hand on his chest and intertwined their hands. Before he could let out a word, his bandmates interrupted yet another sweet moment of the pair, and that seemed to hit the last nerve for Alex. A chorus of “aww” echoed across the room and the pair looked at them, noticing they had an audience.

Breana gave her friend an apologetic look before standing up and taking a hold of Matt’s shirt to drag him out of Alex’s sight, but the lead vocalist was faster and he bolted towards him, making Matt let out a loud cackle as he chased him out of the room, leaving the rest with another session of laughter. “Get back here, you little shit!”

[heavenlyakin]

Bluelock Tinder Hookup Series: Rin Itoshi

wc: 2520

Warnings: a little ooc for Sae I think, fem reader, use of “brat,” “slut,” and “princess,” spitting, fingering, orgasm denial, and kitchen sex.

Description: Hookup #1 in my latest series. College AU Tinder Hookup Series: starring Rin Itoshi. This is a nontraditional hookup and I hope you enjoy the story! This one is light and silly at first but of course, you get some steamy scenes. Also, if someone guesses what drink Rin makes, I’ll write you something!

The man who sits across from you is not who’s picture you’d been looking at for the last few days. His red hair is definitely not the dark green you’d been expecting, and his features, except his strikingly familiar eyes, are all wrong. 

“You’re not Rin,” you say softly, leaning forward on the table with your elbows. 

“Correct. I’m Sae,” his tone is colder than you expected. “Why’d you want to match with my brother?” 

You laugh, put off by the abruptness of his question. “Why is it any of your business? Where is he? How’d you know I was meeting him here?” 

“Oh, I run his Tinder. He wouldn’t be caught dead in that cesspool. I just like to fuck with people.” He admits, leaning forward. “You’re really pretty, though. So I’ll entertain you.” 

“You’re fucking weird,” you move away, sitting back in your seat and grabbing your purse from the ground. “But, do feel free to give your brother my regards.” 

Sae laughs, a smile plastered on his once bored expression. “Your loss,” he calls back as you walk away. 

Everything about that has triggered something in you. So much so that you delete the Tinder app from your phone. Your walk home is fine, but you find yourself looking behind you to make sure that creep isn’t following you home. He didn’t give you stalker vibes, but who the hell uses their brother to match with girls on Tinder? Especially when they’re that attractive on their own. It’s fucking twisted. 

When you check the time on your phone, you’re not spatially aware of your surroundings and run into someone at the end of a crosswalk. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid, I didn’t even see you in front of me and-” You look up and notice that it’s none other than the man you originally matched with on Tinder; Rin. 

“Watch where you’re going and this won’t happen.” He scoffs, wiping off his shirt. “Wait, are you —-.” 

“Yeah, why?” You look up at him towering over you. 

“You ghosted me today.” He frowns, looking unimpressed with your response. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re the girl from Tinder right.” He asks, quieter and looking around to see if anyone is listening to the both of you. 

“Yeah, actually I am. But I’m confused, your brother-” 

“What about my brother?” Anger flares in his voice.

“He met me where we were supposed to meet and I guess tried to flirt with me in some creepy way, and claimed he ran your Tinder account.” 

“What?” He looks shocked. 

“You two need to sort that out. I’m not playing games with either of you.” You start to walk away but Rin grabs your arm. 

“Can you please explain what happened?” He asks, and you nod. 

“Walk with me, we can get a drink at my place. I’ll tell you everything.” You begin walking towards your off-campus apartment and explain in detail what happened. It clearly wasn’t a lot but you can recall every word since it was just a few minutes ago. 

“We didn’t agree to meet at the student union though,” he frowns. 

“You changed it last minute, remember?” You say and he shakes his head no. “Check our messages. I got so mad at your stupid brother that I deleted the app. You’ll see that ten minutes before our date you messaged me to meet at the student union instead.” 

He pulls out his phone as you open the door to the lobby of your apartments. He notices and grabs the door above your head. “After you,” he says. 

You smile and lead him inside and to the elevator. “Well, did you see it?” 

He’s frowning at his phone as you press the button to your floor. “Yeah, but I didn't send this. That fucker must really have my login information.” 

“Yeah, you should change your password.” You comment, not really sure what to say. 

“No wonder I keep getting ghosted.” He sighs, putting his phone back in his pocket. “I’m going to kill him.” 

“You should. It’ll do society a favor.” You tease, nudging him with your elbow. 

He smiles, barely, but it’s there. “Yeah,” he agrees and looks up at the numbers changing above the elevator door. 

The elevator finally stops and you lead him to your apartment, opening the door and walking in before him. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you smile and let him walk in passed you so you can shut the door. 

“It’s nice. Reminds me of my place.” He tells you and stands awkwardly in the middle of your living room. 

“You can sit, make yourself comfortable.” You walk into the kitchen, grabbing some Moscato from your fridge and then you realize you don’t know what he drinks. “Do you like wine? I don’t have beer. Um, I have some vodka and tequila too…” you look through your liquor cabinet. “Oh, I have this gin too.” 

“Do you have lime juice and simple syrup?” He asks, walking over to your breakfast bar across from the cabinets. 

“I think so,” you look further in the fridge and find the simple syrup and a few limes. “I do! Thank god my old roommate was a bartender and left me all this.” 

“Oh, do you live alone now?” Rin asks as he starts to mix himself a drink. 

“As of a few days ago, yeah. She moved back home.” You take another sip of your wine, enjoying the sweet peachy flavor. 

“Ah,” he pours the drink into the glass you hand him after he’s done shaking the drink. He tasted it and buns softly, it must be good. 

“Can I have a taste?” You ask, curious about the drink. “Pretty please,” you bat your eyelashes for effect. 

He grins, shaking his head no. “It’s mine. No.” 

You walk around the breakfast bar, taking the glass from his hand quickly. “It’s my glass. My liquor.” 

He’s faster taking it back, then holding it up so you can’t reach it. “Brats don’t get what they want.” He challenges and your body heats up. 

Oh. 

“I just want a little taste,” you beg, pouting your bottom lip out. 

He takes another sip, his hand caressing your cheeks. As he swallows his thumb grazes across your lip, tugging it down to open your mouth. You oblige, parting your lips and letting him have his way. He takes another sip. 

In a blink of an eye his hand is squeezing your mouth open wider and he spits the drink into your mouth. Your eyes widen and you clench your fists, your body heating up more than before as you slowly swallow the slightly sweet and sour drink. He went heavy on the lime, you realize as it slides down your throat. 

“Good girl, swallowed without me even asking,” he pats your cheek with his fingers and you step closer to him. 

“I-” before you can finish your thought, Rin’s lips are on yours. The taste of his drink floods your mouth with his tongue. You reach for his shirt, grabbing the soft fabric and pulling yourself closer to him so your body is flush with his. 

His hands settle on your hips, pulling you against him, his cock hard under his pants and pressing against you. A moan slips past your lips against Rin’s. 

“Moaning already?” He pulls away, his right hand moving from your hip to your cheek, his thumb teasing your bottom lip again. “I’ve barely touched you, slut.” 

Something about the way the degradation slips past his pretty lips so effortlessly turns you on more.  “Can’t help it,” you shrug looking up at him. 

“I bet you’re soaking wet under those shorts.” He whispers next to your ear, his thumb pressing into your mouth. You close your lips around it and suck lightly. “Should I find out?” 

“Mmhm,” you hum around his thumb desperate for him to touch you. 

His left-hand moves from your hip, tugging your linen shorts open just enough so he can slip his hand in. You feel his fingertips tease the outline of your panties. You want to beg him to hurry up, but you also enjoy the teasing look in his beautiful teal eyes. He wants to drag this out, you realize. He finally presses his fingers against your clit through the thin fabric, and you whimper. 

“I was right,” he smirks, his fingers tracing slow circles as your thighs quiver slightly. “Soaking wet through your flimsy underwear.” 

You pop his thumb out of your mouth, grinning before speaking. “Didn’t expect a soccer player to be so good with his fingers,” his smirk turns to an intense frown. “Aw didn’t like that?” 

“I prefer you with your mouth full.” He tells you, pushing you back against the breakfast bar. His fingers slip into your underwear. 

“Fuck,” you whimper as his thumb teases your clit and his fingers start to enter you. 

“I like that sound as well,” he tells you, a small chuckle leaving his lips. 

Suddenly, he drops to his knees in front of you, pulling your shorts and panties down around your knees as he goes. You gasp and your fingers go right to his hair as he leans forward and his tongue swipes across your cunt. 

“Rin,” you gasp as he slips a finger in you as he sucks on your clit. His hair tangles in your fingers and you grip the breakfast bar with your free hand to steady yourself. He hums against you sending shivers down your legs. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ you moan, pulling his hair. 

His fingers pump into you faster while he continues lapping at you like you’re a meal he intends to devour. You throw your head back, letting yourself feel and enjoy every single sensation Rin blesses you with. It’s overwhelming and takes all your strength to stay standing still for him. His grip on your right thigh with his hand is intense, and probably going to leave a bruise. 

Just as you start to feel the familiar build of tension in your lower stomach and your body starts to shake, he pulls away abruptly. 

“Rin, what the fuck,” you gasp, catching your breath and staring down at him. 

He smiles, actually smiles at you. “Impatieny slut,” the words sound beautiful coming from that cruel mouth. 

Your body just wants more, more of him and his cruelty. He stands up, pulling you close and kissing you. The taste of yourself on his lips is erotic. You pull him closer with his belt loops, leaving just enough room for your hands to undo his belt and pants, unzipping the zipper next. 

“Want to go to my bedroom?” You ask as you slowly take his cock in your hand, stoking it once and then twice. 

“Who needs the bedroom? I could take you right here on this counter.” He tells you, his voice serious and rough. “Or do you need some pillows, princess? Can’t take the hard counters?” 

“I can take you, and that’s all that matters, right?” You squeeze his cock a bit tighter and he inhales sharply. “I’m desperate for you,” you put on the sexiest voice you can muster, almost making yourself laugh. 

“Oh shut up,” he mutters, closing his eyes as you continue jerking him off. “Turn around.” 

You let go of him, turning around as he ordered and bracing the breakfast bar with your hands and arms. You feel his hands on your ass before you hear the sound of his pants hitting the ground around his ankles. He cock grazes your ass and you wiggle it at him. 

“Stay still,” he grips you tightly and you feel the head of his cock prodding at your entrance. 

“Oh god,” you whimper as he thrusts inside of you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. He makes you feel so full, you’re unable to think of anything but him and his cock inside of you. He moans quietly, barely audible, but you catch it. 

He begins to thrust in and out of you, gripping your hips to keep you still as he fucks you. It’s intense, like him. Everything you imagined this moment might be like is completely shattered and blown away by the actuality of it all. 

“Harder,” you ask, breathless against the countertop and looking back at him as best as you can. 

He laughs, “You need more, princess? Fucking dirty slut.” 

Before today, you’ve never had someone bounce so effortlessly between sweet to cruel names for you and it’s doing something to your body. You don’t think you’ve ever been this aroused or needy for someone in your life. You feel that familiar tension building again, coming back from where Rin denied it earlier. Your body heats up and you try your best to keep from cumming now. 

“Go ahead and cum, princess.” Rin leans down, his body pressing against yours and pushing him deeper into you. “I can always make you cum again. Don’t hold back on me.” He whispers against your ear. 

That’s all it takes. 

You clench around his cock, cumming and moaning a slur of his name and curses. Your body goes limp against the counter. He continues to fuck into you, supporting you with his hands. 

“You feel incredible,” he mumbles, and you imagine he has his head tossed back and is enjoying every second of being inside of you. From what you can see behind you, you’re correct. 

He stops suddenly, and you push up with your arms and look behind you fully. “What, is something wrong?” 

He pulls out of you and without saying a word spins you around. 

“Jump up here,” he pats the top of the breakfast bar. 

You oblige, gripping the edge of the bar with your hands and jumping up. He pushes back inside of you and you wrap your legs around his waist. His lips are on yours before you can think to kiss him first and he begins to fuck into you harder than before. 

You can’t focus on his lips or tongue, only on holding onto him and moaning against his lips. This position feels much more intimate and overwhelming with pleasure. Your nails dig into his skin, his shoulders feel so strong under your fingers that you’re sure this isn’t even noticeable to him. It makes you curious. 

You drag your nails down his back and he groans against your mouth. “Do that again.” 

So you do, and you feel him twitch inside of you. His thrusts become sloppier and faster if that’s even possible. His stamina is unreal, and it makes you want to thank whoever the fuck his coach is for the conditioning he must have put Rin through to build this up. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he groans as he cums, thrusting into you a few more times before stilling inside of you. 

He leans his forehead against yours, and it's sweaty, and his hair sticks to your forehead and his. “I need another drink before we go again.” 

“Again?” You laugh, praying your pussy will make it through the day.

[williamrikers]

On the subject of consent in recent BLs

In this analysis, I will take a look at several love scenes in recent Thai BLs, how they frame consent and the sexual agency of the characters, and why those matter.

(KinnPorsche deserves its own post: I’m sure people have already written in detail about how much emphasis is placed on issues of consent/non-consent throughout the show and how fundamental consent is to the relationship arcs of both KinnPorsche and VegasPete, and I won’t belabor the point here. Also, special shout-out to The Warp Effect for what it brought to the conversation about gay sex, but TWE isn’t technically a BL so I decided not to include it in this analysis.)

I am going to take a closer look at the following shows in this essay: Not Me, The Eclipse, A Boss And A Babe, Step By Step, and La Pluie.

Not Me and The Eclipse predate the other shows by two years/one year respectively, but I feel it is valuable to include them here because both show very explicit negotiations of consent that I feel are spiritual successors to the wonderful scenes we’ve been getting in the other three shows.

Why am I even writing this? There used to be an unfortunate tendency in the genre to have a power imbalance between the “seme” and the “uke” character, which translated into the seme deciding when to have sex and what kind of sex to have—and even though recently, several shows have done good work in dismantling the seme/uke dynamic and questioning the associated stereotypes, it cannot be denied that the archetypes are still an important part of most BLs, and even in cases where the tropes are played with and questioned, understanding those subversions still requires a knowledge of and familiarity with the original tropes on the part of the audience.

However, gone are the days of Until We Meet Again and Dean’s “I’ve waited long enough, make sure you’re ready.” (I enjoyed UWMA a lot but that was. Yeah. Not Great.) Now, we see characters actually talking about and negotiating their limits, and doing what feels good to them.

Let’s start from the very beginning. Not Me was an absolute trailblazer in this regard, and not mentioning it here would be a gross oversight. The first time Sean and White have sex, it happens in their version of the beach episode. (Which, in Not Me, is the two characters briefly living in a tent inside an abandoned building. This show is the best.) Sean and White are removed from their usual environment and protected from the outside world by two barriers: the walls of the old house and the tent that’s literally enveloping them and giving them a space that is unequivocally theirs, shared, in which neither one of the characters has any sort of power over the other. And what happens in that space when they’re about to have sex is extremely interesting: the first thing Sean asks is whether White is afraid of him, which White denies. The following exchange goes like this: White: "So, what are we doing?" Sean: "What should I do to you?" White: "That’s up to you." (Watch the whole scene here.)

I find this exchange incredibly meaningful because this already turns the seme/uke dynamic that can be found in a lot of other shows on its head. OffGun as a branded pair can easily be stereotyped into the seme/uke dynamic just because of their physical appearances, and clearly spelling out that both characters have agency in this scene is incredibly important.

And then it gets better! Sean assumes that White is sexually inexperienced (which is not true but the fact that White was actually in a relationship with a woman back in Russia never comes up again after the pilot episode, so maybe the show expects us to assume this, too), and suggests they try different things and White can tell him what he likes and doesn’t like. Compared to the stuff we’re getting now, this scene isn’t very high heat at all, but it’s one of my favorite intimate scenes ever because them asking each other “Do you like this?” after every kiss, every touch, is so incredibly unique and transports a wonderful sense of figuring out sexual pleasure together, as a couple.

Sex in Not Me is not something one character does to another, it is something that is discovered and shared together, and we even get an afterglow scene in which they gently tease each other about their fast beating hearts. (And don’t get me started on the importance of White choosing to ask Sean whether Sean is okay with White not being like Black in that moment right before they have sex, because he doesn’t actually want to have sex with Sean as Black! He wants to discover and share intimacy with Sean as White, as himself, not as his brother! The layers!)

Anyway, I think that scene paved the way for a lot of the conversations around consent we’re now getting in BL, just because it is so explicitly, unashamedly putting forward a definition of sexuality that has nothing to do with one character actively giving and the other passively receiving, but frames intimacy as something that is built together. (More on giving and receiving later!)

Now, moving on to The Eclipse. I decided to include the first time Akk and Aye have sex for a different reason: while we don’t really see them actually talking about consent, we see them practicing non-verbal consent. Let me explain. Akk’s and Aye’s whole thing is teasing each other. At first, Aye is usually the one doing the teasing, but Akk gets the hang of it towards the end of the show and teases his boyfriend right back. When they’re in Akk’s childhood bedroom together, Aye clearly alludes to the fact that he thought they might use this opportunity to have sex for the first time, which Akk pretends not to understand, all while alluding to it himself. I love this guy. (Watch the whole scene here.) Anyway, Akk says he wants to sleep, lies down and once again, tells Aye jokingly he just wants to sleep, clearly expecting Aye to do what other BL protagonists do at that point and not take no for an answer (sidenote: I HATE the “saying no as foreplay” trope with a passion and as far as I’m concerned it should die already).

However, Aye is not like other BL love interests, and he backs off. He stops touching Akk, lies down with his back to Akk, showing Akk that he takes him by his word: if Akk says he wants to sleep, Aye is going to let him do just that. So now, it’s on Akk to say that, no, that’s not what he meant, can Aye please come back to cuddle. And then Akk is the one to escalate from cuddling to kissing, which is extremely important: we know that Aye has been ready to have sex with Akk since forever, it’s Akk who’s been having hangups about intimacy this whole time.

They don’t put consent into so many words on this show, but Aye shows Akk that he respects his limits and that Akk only has to tell him he doesn’t want to do something and Aye will take him at his word.

So, these are, to me, two foundational scenes of establishing consent: one that shows consent as something that is established verbally, as an ongoing conversation, and one that shows consent as something that is established physically, by showing your partner that you respect their choices and limits by way of simply acting accordingly.

Now, let’s get into the fun part: scenes we got so far in 2023. I’m writing this post on the 13th of June, and I’m sure this year still has some great things in store for us, especially because Step By Step and La Pluie are both ongoing and neither of the main couples are actually together yet at time of writing. However, they’ve both already given us AMAZING scenes on the topic of consent, so I feel it is worthwhile to write about those already.

I want to start off by talking about A Boss And A Babe.

Let me just preface this by saying that the intimate scenes in ABAAB are some of my all time favorites in BL ever, because in them, sex is something that is just so normal. When Gun and Cher have sex, we don’t see them very passionate, excited, reluctant or wide-eyed innocent (which are some of the emotions traditionally associated with sex in BL). On the contrary, in every single scene that shows them being intimate, both characters are incredibly calm. They’re certainly happy to be with each other, but in a subdued way. Someone described their second intimate scene as them seeming like they’ve been married for a few years. They’re both just… incredibly normal about having sex with each other. It’s simply something they like to do together. It’s a part of their romance but it’s not more or less important than any other aspects of their lives.

And consent is at the very heart of it.

When Gun and Cher have their first time, we see Gun explicitly asking for consent two times: first, “Can I kiss you?”, then, “Can I do more?” The second one even comes with the promise that if Cher says no, Gun will immediately go to sleep without mentioning it again. And then it is on Cher to say yes, to pull Gun close and kiss him to show him that he is comfortable with taking things further. (In the show, these two questions were shown apart from each other, I cut together a version of the whole First Time Scene in its entirety, watch it here.)

Now, things get more interesting: the second intimate scene shows Cher initiating the encounter (watch the whole scene here). Cher pretty consistently falls into the uke category, both physically and as far as characterization is concerned, but he’s certainly not shy in the bedroom. And this time, he’s the one who asks for consent from Gun: Gun asks “You’re starting it?” and Cher’s response is “Can I?” Despite him being framed physically lower than Gun, basically at Gun’s mercy, he still seeks confirmation that Gun is okay with the way things are going. Not to overstate it, but to me, this feels revolutionary. Once again, we’re being shown that sex is something two people do together, as a shared activity, and that the “seme” character isn’t expected to just be up for it. He, too, has the right to say no.

On this show, sexual agency is taken extremely seriously, and it is clear that both Gun and Cher give each other space to decide what they’re comfortable doing. This is shown in non-intimate scenes as well: there are so many moments on ABAAB in which the characters negotiate physical touch and closeness, asking each other for hugs before actually hugging each other, Cher leaning on Gun’s shoulder in the car but not allowing Gun to touch him because that’s not what he’s comfortable with in that moment, and so on. (The only exception to this otherwise pretty consistent rule is the kiss in the car scene, which I’m still extremely confused about because it seems to go completely against Gun’s character. Who knows what happened there.)

Of course, the fact that so much emphasis is placed on negotiation and consent isn’t surprising on a show that has such obvious kink undertones and whose Our Skyy 2 entry basically consisted entirely of Dom/sub roleplay at work—I’m just saying, I think someone on the writing team is way into BDSM and knows all about the importance of enthusiastic consent from all parties involved, and I would like to send them flowers.

Step By Step hasn’t really reached the point where we can analyse the dynamic between the main couple (although we can take some educated guesses based on the interactions we’ve seen so far). However, last week’s episode had an extremely important scene between Pat and Put: Pat wanting to have sex with Put, then changing his mind mid make-out (watch the whole scene here). I really like the way this scene was done. No matter how shitty Put treats Pat at times, in this instance, he immediately understood and respected Pat’s change of mind without Pat even saying or explaining anything—at the end of the episode, Put says to Pat that Pat should tell Put when he feels ready to have sex. (We already know this will never happen because of course, Pat and Put are not endgame, but I do appreciate the sentiment.)

BLs rarely include a whole storyline in which the protagonist is in an actual, serious romantic relationship with someone other than his endgame love interest (hi Moonlight Chicken!), or if they do then just to up the angst factor. In this case, however, I feel that this scene raises our expectations for Jeng even further: if the guy who is definitely not a romantic match for Pat treats Pat with this much respect in the bedroom, then Jeng has to do at least that and then some. I do feel confident that Jeng won’t disappoint in this regard, but it’s fascinating to see a show frame this kind of respect as the absolute baseline minimum, with the endgame love interest expected to do even better.

Now, the one you’ve all been waiting for. The one that made me write this whole essay in the first place: La Pluie.

Oh boy. Where to start.

A week ago, we got an incredible make-out scene on Saengtai’s floor, which ended in Patts stopping the encounter because he could tell Tai wasn’t really comfortable taking things further—@bengiyo talked about that scene in detail here. And then, three days ago, La Pluie gave us the most unique, trope-defying, timeline-changing blowjob scene of all time, and I want to talk about it.

Tai and Patts are making out on their bed, Tai is not ready to go “all the way” and stops Patts from undressing him. We see a very realistic frustrated reaction from Patts, who nevertheless immediately stops and accepts Tai’s wishes—it is clear that Patts does not expect things to go any further at this point, and that he won’t pressure Tai into anything.

And then, Tai offers to blow him.

(Unfortunately, this show is only on iQiyi so I can't link to it, but you can get a good impression of the scene here.)

I mentioned the concepts of giving and receiving earlier: other people have said this more eloquently than me, but there is a tendency not only in BL but also in wider society to view sex in terms of giving and receiving, with a lot of expectations and stereotypes attached to the roles during different sexual acts. On other shows, that blowjob might be framed as a consolidation or an apology, something that the giver does out of a sense of obligation without enjoying it much. Not so on La Pluie! Tai is shown incredibly happy and satisfied afterwards, both when they’re sleeping next to each other, as well as on the morning after (see also @ginnymoonbeam's post about that here). Tai offered to blow Patts because he simply wanted to, not motivated by guilt or anything of that sort. And he genuinely enjoyed it! In the post I linked above, @bengiyo points out that La Pluie consistently centers queer desire, or more specifically in this case, male desire for a male body; much in the same way that the camera fucking loves Force’s body on ABAAB: the sensuality of the skin, the hands, the abs, the flat chests, the broad backs and shoulders of these men is explicitly emphasized, and Tai’s desire for a dick in his mouth is made absolutely crystal-clear. Of course, since this is a TV show and not a porno, we only see Patts’s thumb in Tai’s mouth instead of his dick, but the imagery, the implications, are clear as day.

And it is such a gentle framing, too: Patts caresses Tai’s lip lovingly, Tai opens his mouth slowly, seductively, then faces Patts’s crotch with a soft look on his face. We do get a clear sense of this encounter as tender, and gentle, and most of all, desired. Tai’s queer desire is at the heart of this scene, and at the heart of the afterglow scene as well. He wanted this man’s dick in his mouth, openly suggested it, showed Patts he was sure about his decision after Patts asked him whether he was, and ended up clearly happy and satisfied with the sex they had. This post, also by @bengiyo, goes into more detail on that.

This, once again, shows us sex as a conversation rather than a series of predetermined acts, shows us sex as a shared activity, as something that can be wonderful and intimate and make people happy without following what society views as “the correct steps”. I think this is extremely important because one part of queer identity is figuring out one’s own relationship to sexuality, one’s own desires and needs, and BLs that ignore this aspect fall a little short in my opinion. Sure, those men are kissing, but do they experience queer desire? Do they experience joy in their queer desire?

For me personally, a show that does not shy away from these questions is a lot more meaningful than a show that does, and consent is at the heart of it all. By framing sex as a conversation, as something that is built and shared together, the shows I looked at here are actively positioning themselves against the idea that there should be predetermined roles for partners during sex, and instead suggest that queer joy can be found in communication and consent. Understanding sex and intimacy as something that is built together, with both partners as equals in conversation, is just as radically queer as a man waking up with a smile on his face after giving his soulmate a blowjob the previous night.

And quite honestly, a male character who clearly, passionately, unquestioningly communicates that he wants a dick inside of him—that is incredibly sexy. But maybe that’s just me.

[zg0nuwa]

Dad bi han and giving his son "the talk"

ok so, hear me out

he NEVER considered he would have to have the talk. like it never just came to him. also let me set the scene.

your son is around 6 years old and you’re pregnant for the second time, and of course a child is always curious so he WILL ask questions. worst part? they are mostly directed to you. not because bi han doesn’t care, he gets his own set of questions but they mostly regard the lin kuei business, and trust me explaining to a 6 year old what a ninja assassin is can be difficult.

so one day the entire family is home, eating dinner and then the dreaded question comes.

‘ mom, where do babies come from? ’

to your dismay he asked you.

but you heard your husbands hushed laugh and decided that he will suffer too.

‘ i think your father is the one who should explain this to you honey. ’

your sons eyes drifted from you to his father who looked surprisingly calm and collected (he almost choked).

‘ let’s not discuss this at the table, how about that? ’

after dinner you excused yourself to the bedroom, partially to not give bi han the chance to escape the talk and partially because of genuine exhaustion.

let’s be honest bi han is not the type of parent to talk about how a child magically appears in a cabbage field or a stork brings it. he won’t go into detail but he will do the classic

‘ son, when two people who love each other very much want to start a family, they have to reproduce…. ’

a religious avoider of the word sex. will simply refuse to say it, mf actually becomes a linguist and drops “reproduction”, “copulation”, “engaging in sexual intercourse”.

don’t ask him how it went.

i’m sorry, this is kind of a train wreck also i am still recovering after grinding kitana to 14 lvl mastery (it was rough) (i did it only for the invasion sub zero skin)

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Imagine being kidnapped by Tom Ludlow.

Hi anon. This got out of hand. I’m sorry. CW: mentions of child abuse/dark humor concerning it, rape/noncon fantasies and details. I write from a place of my own trauma, and it gets a little fucked up. If you don’t like dark fics, or are triggered easily, DO NOT READ THIS. Violence, bad cops, SA. Tom Ludlow is not the bad guy in this, though.

If you’re a big girl, a tall girl, a girl with a lot of muscle or fat, you probably haven’t been picked up off the ground since you were very young.

You question your femininity because of it, along with a whole lot of other shit that society decides to push on you for not having a traditional feminine figure…whatever the hell that is.

You often take on a more protective, mothering or masculine roll with your smaller or daintier or gentler friends. You don’t look down on them at all—or envy them too often. Some people just carry a unique tenderness that you wish the world had more of. But every little rainbow or sunbeam needs their strong protective cloud, and you mostly gladly, sometimes reluctantly take on this role.

You will never be a meek, kind, delicate person. It’s just not going to happen. You don’t want it to happen. You’re pretty comfortable with your role in life. It’s just…sometimes…and this is probably something that everyone craves in vulnerable moments…you want to be the one getting protected.

It’s just kind of exhausting, always being there for everyone else. As much as you love it, and you do, it can also really drain you.

The duality of man is that we can be more than one type of person, and want different things. You know this. But…it’s hard as hell to admit you want to be taken care of. Because doesn’t that ruin your tough facade? Your strength and independence? Doesn’t that let everyone know that you’re just putting on an act to cover up who you really are—a weak, sniveling girl?

That’s why you bottle up, keep things to yourself, regard the world cynically and humorously with a lazy shrug of your shoulder. You act like nothing gets to you, like you are a stoic guard at the queen’s gate, like a big mastiff on patrol of your sheep.

When you do wear an emotion, more often than not it’s either sarcasm or…anger. Like tonight, when some guy won’t leave your friend alone at the bar.

She’s visibly uncomfortable and attempting escape from the creep following her around. She’s too nice to tell him to go away, but you’re not, and you have had to put yourself between them way, way too many times.

“She’s not interested,” you tell him.

He sneers at you. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

Except he fucking doesn’t, because ten seconds later he’s smacking her ass when she stands up, and you’re punching him in the mouth.

He hits you back, and it feels like a slap from a two year old, but it startles your fight or flight, and before you know it, your vision is blurry with rage and your fists are flying.

The security guards have to pull you off of one another and haul you outside to where the police are waiting with cuffs.

“He was harassing my friend,” you tell the guy who’s chaperoning you.

“Her ugly ass is just jealous cuz nobody wants her!” Screams scumbag from down the sidewalk.

Wow, you’ve never heard that one before.

One of the cops grabs him by the collar and says something that appears to be stern with his finger pointed at his face.

The guy looks visibly shaken after that, and he specifically avoids looking in your direction again.

The ballsy officer, probably in some sort of supervising position by the looks of it, gets to you next, and you have to crane your neck up to look at him.

You expect anger, but his face is neutral as he pulls a pen and paper from his utility belt. “Hello, ma’am, my name is officer Ludlow with the LAPD. You mind telling me what went on here tonight?”

You tick through the list of events as best you can, trying not to paint yourself as innocent (because with the way you beat on him, you’re definitely not), but making sure he knows what a fucking reprobate you were up against, and he scribbles it all down diligently.

After you’re done, he flicks his chin at the officer standing next to you. “Reed, let her go.”

They uncuff you, and you roll your arms, testing the circulation and rubbing out the raw red marks on your wrists. “Thanks,” you tell the lead officer. “You mind if I go back in and get my friends? There’s only three of us and I’m worried about them…”

“I can’t let you go back in,” officer Ludlow says, “but give us their names and descriptions, and I’ll send Reed in for them, alright?”

You nod, comply, and a few tense moments later Abby is running out to wrap her arms around your shoulders, smearing her glittery tears and pink blush on your jacket.

You hug her back, picking her up a little bit off the ground with the ferocity of your relief, and look at officer Ludlow over her head. “Thanks,” you tell him.

Tye, arriving from the thicket of people at the entrance a few moments later, immediately wants to know what happened.

She, however, is interrupted, by the asshole down the sidewalk, still in cuffs. “Hope you think of me when you see that handprint on your cute little ass tomorrow!” He calls, and Abby turns away, choking on a sob.

You’ve always had anger issues. Usually, in adulthood, they’re pretty easy to tame down. Not in this circumstance, not when you see Abby shaking and crying, looking as defenseless as a baby mouse.

Unbeknownst to you, because your sight and sound have been marginally narrowed to one person who needs his face bludgeoned in so hard that he finally shuts the fuck up, the head officer has already signaled for them to haul this guy into the back of a police car.

You’re not sure how you cross the distance between you and him so fast—you’re built for endurance, not speed—but suddenly your fists are connecting with his flesh again, and there’s a lot of yelling and pulling and finally your feet leave the ground and your knuckles leave his face.

It takes you a minute to realize you are being carried away—that your feet are not on land—and you look up at the person whose arms are currently wrapped around you.

Like mentioned before, it’s been a long, long time since someone has picked you up and you’ve lost your center of gravity so quickly and so thoroughly. Like a startled animal, you fight to try and get back to the ground, more out of shock and adrenalized fear than anything.

You don’t mean to scratch or bite the nice officer, you really don’t.

Ludlow just sighs at your resistance, like he could be doing something much more important right now rather than manhandling you into the back of a squad car like you’re an ornery kitten rather than a formidable opponent.

You are silenced into shock the whole way to the police station.

They put you in the waiting room sans cuffs, and you’re not sure how much time passes until a heavy presence plops down on the plastic chair next to you.

“Fuck,” is the first thing you say to Ludlow. “My friends…”

“They’re safe. I’m giving them an escort back home.”

He gives you some room temp water, and after the fear wears off, grants you enough time to come back to your good senses. You look at him sheepishly, with your head tucked down. “Sorry, he was a fucking creep.”

Ludlow nods. “I get it, hopefully I can get you out of it with a slap on the wrist.” He hands you some tissues from his breast pocket. “Wipe that blood off your face.”

You didn’t realize you were bleeding, so it’s a shock to finally feel the ache of a bloody lip and bruised cheek and see the paper come back crimson streaked.

After a few long moments of silence, you say, “I feel like an asshole.”

He shrugs, leans back, grins over at you. You fight the urge to flush at his crooked smile. He’s a handsome man. Sometimes you like those. “Asshole, no. Dumb, maybe. He could have really fucked you up.”

“I handled myself just fine.”

“Your split lip will disagree tomorrow morning. Lemme see.” He holds out his hand, as if for you to rest your chin in, and you’re not sure what brain malfunction gets you to comply. You are not a good listener by any means, especially for men in positions of authority or power.

Maybe it’s sexist, maybe it’s unfair. Spend your whole childhood getting the shit taken out of you by a man that’s supposed to love and care for and protect you, and then decide what’s fair and what’s not.

He whistles low, turning you this way and that with a tenderness you don’t expect from calloused, bear paw hands with knuckles like golf balls. “I’ll give it to you, you’ve got balls. Bigger than most men I’ve met.”

Your mouth betrays your tough girl facade, and lets a tiny smile hike up the edge despite the stinging pain that follows.

Officer Ludlow gets you out with a slap on the wrist—aka a misdemeanor—just like he said he was going to. You tell him thank you about ten million times for saving your ass, and for offering to give you a ride back to the bar to get your car.

“I’ve already put you out too much tonight,” you tell him. “I’ll get a Taxi or something.”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he says, jangling the keys in his beater pocket. “By the time you get to the bar, you’re gonna be towed. C’mon.”

You open the back door of his charger, but he shakes his head and, instead, opens up his passenger seat for you to slide in.

It’s about now you’re starting to get a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach, like something is off about this interaction. You’re not one to trust easily, and getting in the car with a complete stranger, although one in uniform, is out of character to say the least.

Your radar has really been fucked up tonight. By the alcohol, the scumbag, the being arrested, the bruising and tearing of your knuckles. What a way to end it, you think, if Ludlow is a bad guy.

The funny feeling in your guts that you decide to ignore this one time? It turns out to be right. And as Tom Ludlow starts driving up through the deserted hills, in the opposite direction of the bar your car is at, you almost want to burst out laughing at how stupid you are.

Asshole, no. Dumb? Fucking definitely.

You test his door handle and he snorts at you; like he’s saying, you think I’m that stupid?

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” you grumble, sizing him up from the corner of your eye, deciding whether to fight or flight or just give up now. He’s thin, but he’s broad. Tall. Not lanky. He won’t be easy to push over. You’ll have to bite, claw eyes out, rip his hair from his head. Make sure he doesn’t pull that shiny pistol out of his belt before you can jump on him.

You could do it right here in the car and risk barreling over the steep hillside on your right. You could—

“Hey,” he says, calmly, capturing you too easily from your violent thoughts, “it’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

A part of you wants to believe him, or maybe just believe there’s still some good in the world—some good in men. Hell, maybe leprechauns exist, too. You never know.

He looks sideways at you when you giggle in response to these reassuring words, as if you’re the one who’s fucking psycho. “I’ve heard that one before.”

He makes a pensive sound, air puffing from his nostrils, switches gears as the incline increases. “Daddy beat you up?”

Well, fuck it, might as well share all your sob stories if this is really happening tonight. “Uncle, actually.”

“Sorry,” he says, and you hazard a glance over to see if his face matches his empathetic tone—it, surprisingly, does. “He still alive?”

“No.”

You must be violently shaking to compensate for the repression of a panic attack, because his still, steady hand on your shoulder pauses the tremors. “It’s okay,” he assures, like he’s trying to soothe a crying kid. You have to admit, his voice is a cool ointment for hot nerves, even if he’s the reason for them in the first place.

The brain has a funny way of dealing with things like this. There’s about a 30% chance his intentions are raping you, because with his looks he could get any lady in the city of lights for free, but rapists and molesters rarely think about physical attractiveness when it actually comes down to the act. Psychologists say it’s more about the power trip for them. And, at least, if he is going to fuck you, he’s not exactly the worst man that you could pick to do it.

At least he’s hot, is what it boils down to. Because you’re a disgusting degenerate. Because your coping skills are a ticking time bomb, a broken record, stuck back at the part of your life where you had to start liking the way uncle Eddy touched you to deal with the shame and the despair of it.

Officer Ludlow’s gonna pick you right up off the ground again, slam you into his backseat, tug your pants and underwear down in one go. He’ll make you beg him to fuck your pussy instead of your unprepared and untainted ass, use his spit as lube, rub his meaty fingers over your puffy lips and taunt you when his saliva encounters your slippery cum. He’ll smack your ass for liking this, leave big red handprints, whisper in your ear that you’re gonna remember him, not just tomorrow, but for weeks after he gets done working your cunt. That he should kill you and leave your body out for the flies, but he wants you to live just so you can feel the way he destroyed your pussy.

The charger slows to a halt out in the sticks, and you have no idea where the fuck you are or how long you’ve been driving. The night is thick black soup in a boiling pot, and his headlights cut through it meagerly. It’s enough light to see what’s happening ahead, though, and when you look over at him curiously, he is grinning at you.

The man from the bar who assaulted your friend is in cuffs, an officer on each arm holding him in place. You don’t feel bad at all when you notice his swollen lip and purple temple, but you do wish you would have gotten more hits in.

Lucky for you, Officer Ludlow has you covered.

“Do you want to hit him?” He asks, unclipping his seat belt. “Or do you wanna watch?”

You blink a few times in response, not sure what to say to this brutally kind gesture. This man who barely knows you is helping you exact revenge against his own brethren. You’ve never been so…flattered.

“Don’t tell me you’re attempting to grow a conscience?” He teases.

“I wanna hit him.”

To your disappointment, Ludlow is not a total savage. He lets you get 3 or 4—it’s hard to remember the exact number—good hits on this dirtbag, and even wraps your knuckles up in a cushiony flannel from his back seat beforehand. His only rule is, “stay away from his ugly ass face. I don’t need him coming back to the station more fucked up than it already is.”

You get him in the stomach, the ribs, kick him so hard in his dick that you feel the hard pelvic bone underneath. Maybe it’s only a couple hits, but you make them count. And when you start to ache, or get tired, all you have to do is remember the tears smearing Abbie’s pretty glitter eyeliner down her face.

If he does say anything to you, you don’t hear it. Or maybe he really doesn’t, because Ludlow stands behind you like a watchful wolfhound the entire time, and then escorts you back to his car with a heavy arm over your shaking shoulders.

“Good job,” he praises, seeming very amused and unaffected by this whole ordeal while you are trembling, soaked with sweat, panting like a hooker in a fur coat. “It’s alright, he had it coming. Hey, hey, hey, look at me.”

You do as he says, momentarily escaping your fury in favor of his calming voice and soft black eyes.

“You did amazing. Lemme see the knuckles.”

He takes your hand in his, and you notice the size difference first, and then the warm, damp, pleasant heat second.

There’s been a lot of firsts tonight: someone’s hands being larger than your own (big lady hands should’ve been your nickname in highschool), being picked up off the ground past the age of 7, a man going out of his way to do something nice for you—because your brain decides that’s how it’s going to frame this scenario whether you like it or not, as some fucked up little date on Tom Ludlow’s dime.

You feel safe with your hand tucked into his and the heat of his skin and the cozy intimacy of being belted into his vehicle. You feel grateful that good men still exist. You feel…tight, twisted up in some deprived box of longing you’ve made permanent home in.

You leave the sanctuary of your comfort zone, and have another first, as you cross his center console and kiss a man on his mouth.

For a moment where you feel like your heart is suspended on the edge of a very tall cliff, he freezes. This stiff resistance immediately makes you want to pull away, but, before you can, he wraps his hand around your chin and pulls you deep into his mouth.

Arthur from college, Monica from New Orleans…Hell, even Uncle Eddie—they have nothing on Officer Tom Ludlow with his big, slick tongue and muscular lips.

It’s so good you can almost ignore the fresh sting of your split lip.

He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, and murmurs a laugh when you give him a low groan for the effort, then takes your angry little grumble and dampens it with his renewed fervor. His hands remain gentle and chaste on your face, your neck, your shoulders, even though there is nothing gentlemanly about the way he devours your mouth. He does not push for more, does not hold you down with those big hands that absolutely could if they wanted to.

You set the pace, you pull him closer, you push him back when you need to gasp for air.

He licks the taste of you from his tilted, beautiful lips. “You have to breathe through your nose, honey.”

“Sorry,” you say, crossing your arms over yourself, pressing back against the door, away from him.

His lazy smile droops. “Are you alright?”

”I just…Can you take me to my car? If not I can—“

The thick start of his engine cuts you off.

The car ride back is silent. You think about turning on the radio a few times, but don’t want to cross more boundaries than you already have. Luckily, he flips it on for the both of you and you’ve never, ever been so happy to hear Metallica.

When he parks, cutting the engine off in the nearly deserted garage, the tension between you immediately peaks, sizzling like vinegar on baking soda. He wraps a long limb over the back of your seat, looks confused—vulnerable for such a big, scary man, and he makes your heart twang a lonely cord.

He seems almost boyish, when he asks if he can take you out sometime.

And you want to say yes. Every feral primordial part of you does, anyway. But then there’s the rational part, the one that should and does win most of the time. You’ve already snubbed that part too much tonight, so you politely decline Ludlow’s offer, and with your traitorous heart padlocked and chained back into your breast cavity, you say goodbye to the nice officer.

[yanderederee]

DoubleDate,

May14th, 2004

a/n: lol, I wrote this Before MeetMyGang, so details regarding readers first time on a bike aren’t accurate anymore, buuut I don’t think anyone cares~:)

Before! › here! › after!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

You’d admired Baji for a long time now.

He was scary, and strong enough to do anything he put his mind to. He prioritized the people important to him, and took everything involving his loved ones very seriously. He was gentle to creatures weaker than him, and took them under his protection. Baji was sincere and dedicated in everything he did.

Baji Keisuke wasn’t a bad guy. And you loved him so much.

Baji, on the other hand, was having a hard time coming to terms with how he felt about you.

But he couldn’t push down the wonderment you always left him feeling after an encounter. You were his friend, no question. But you were so fragile. Meeker than the punks he usually rode with.

Keisuke still couldn’t admit it, but you’d successfully stolen his heart.

“Dude, invite her out or something. It’s summer break, you won’t see her for another month.”

“I didn’t even say anything?” Baji glared questionably at his blond friend.

“Didn’t have do. You’ve been mopping around all week. Probably because—“

“Chose your next words carefully Matsuno,” Baji cut in monotone. Chifuyu puffed his cheeks. “Fine fine,” he backed off, stretching from his previous spot as Peke J’s bed. “See ya then.” He waved off, throwing his bag over his shoulder and headed to the door.

“Oi! What for?” Baji complained.

Sure he had a lot of better shit he could be doing with his time. He could go to Akihabara for the weekend while his mom was gone. He could ride out anywhere he really wanted to and enjoy the summer time he earned. That you helped him earn.

“Why, i thought you were too busy moping around to notice.” Chifuyu joked without malice. After, he quipped his brand new phone out with a wide grin. “And if you’re ever so curious, Y/nnchan just invited me out to meet at the cat cafe.~”

The first division captain stared at his vice underling with a deep mix of emotion. He could identify one of those complicated feelings as jealousy.

You asked to hang out with Chifuyu? Baji looked over at the vibrant screen of Chifuyu’s phone, barely making out your name. Pink and blue bubbles littered the screen. “When did you get her number in the first place?”

“Not too many of the guys have phones, so Mom, Ryoko and Y/n are my only contacts right now.”

Baji suddenly really wanted a cellphone.

“So, you coming or what?” Chifuyu asked, throwing Baji a balled up pair of black socks. “Why would I come?” He grumbled out.

“Cause she asked me to invite you~” Chifuyu grinned wickedly. His heart stopped for a moment.

“Hurry up or I’m gonna tell her you bailed!” Chifuyu yelled before darting out of the apartment. “Damnit! Hold on you son of a bitch!”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

When the two managed to get to the cat cafe, they were already ten minutes early for the agreed meeting time. “Oh, party of three? Booth 9, enjoy!” The waitress purred once they entered. Confused, they looked over and saw you looking over the menu.

“You’re early!” Chifuyu laughed when he was first to enter the booth. “Chi! Yeah, haha, I was here when I texted you actually.” Your eyes darted over to Baji, happiness spread across your features. “Kei! So happy you came!”

Baji avoided making eye contact, sure to out himself shy if he did. “The hell? Cute~,” Chifuyu laughed again, his comment clearly coming off as more than friendly. Baji felt heat prickle his ears at this point. Was he trying to provoke him?

You laughed at Chifuyu’s comment, and held the menu out to the both of them. “I ordered a few appetizers already, the frushi is actually the specialty of the day!” You chirped along the menu with excitement.

Well, if nothing else, Chifuyu wasn’t a liar. You really were so cute. A little weird and outgoing, but so, undeniably cute.

“I’ll probably get an order of gyoza.” Baji thought out loud, lazily holding the menu in front of him.

Chifuyu ordered a blue ramune poured over a lemonlime soda.

Baji ordered a black cherry soda with a subtle vanilla cream mix rested at the bottom.

And after much deliberation, you decided on a rich brown-sugar milk tea.

“It’s a little surprising how much cats love you, Kei.” You admitted. “No kidding, strays far and wide can’t get enough of him. Baji actually always leaves his bedroom window open for—” Chifuyu went along praising his captain, ultimately leading to his embarrassed captain to cut him off abruptly.

“Oh yeah!! Didn’t you say you had a cat, Chi?” You asked.

“Oh yeah, Peke J! He’s adventurous, and visits with Baji more than he’s actually home. I bet he’d really like you.”

Baji just couldn’t put his finger on it. Chifuyu was just being friendly, yet somehow he was getting under his skin like never before. “Yaknow, Baji and I actually talked about opening a pet shop in the future!”

You beamed in response to the topic, gaze fluttering between the two delinquents. “A pet store?” You asked, nibbling on a gyoza.

Chifuyu glanced over at Baji, hoping he’d jump into the conversation.

This was his role after all, the perfect natural wingman.

Unfortunately, Baji only saw the situation for its surface level; Chifuyu was blatantly flirting with you for the both of them, Right in front of him.

Baji glared a little bit, and shrugged. “Nah, Mikey‘s talkin about seriously applying himself to motor racing. Sounds sweet,” he grinned his canines.

Chifuyu gaped at his answer. Was he trying to look cool? Was he seriously that oblivious to romantic ques?

Yet, ever the same look of amazement, you smiled back. “Motor racing?! I totally forgot that’s like, your guys’ thing, motor bikes!” You visibly prickle with excitement. “I’ve never been close to one actually. They’re really loud and kinda scary from what I see, but you guys use them all the time right?”

The both of them gaped at your reaction. “They seem pretty cool.” You laughed almost awkwardly, Almost as if to let out a hint, but ready to retract at any sign of uncomfortability.

Chifuyu looked at his captain, the stars glaring over his vision obvious. “Baji’s bike is sick! A Suzuki GSX250E! With an attached second seater. He won’t admit it but he saved up a bunch so I could ride alongside him to Toman meetings.” He praised his captains generosity openly again.

“Yer full of shit,” Baji laughed, “I had that thing way before you.”

“How thoughtful! Chifuyu’s pretty new to the gang, so you haven’t saved up enough for a bike yet, right?” You asked Chifuyu, the eye contact you shared making Baji feel a little … possessive? “I’m doing very good saving up for one!” Chifuyu perked up, eager. The only other person he could brag these hobbies with was Kazutora, after all.

“You have a bike model in mind?” You asked, tilting your head, as you allowed an all-white rag doll cat affectionately demand your attention. Baji rose a brow, your choice of words making him curious. “How much you know about bikes?”

You giggled sheepishly, hiding your face in the cats fur. “J-just a little. I just, got a little curious, s-so I learned a few neat facts,” you waved this off quickly, and drew the attention back to one of them. “I really don’t know much besides what a book would tell you. Are you trying to shop for speed or style?”

To you, it seemed like a genuinely honest and curious question. To them, they had finally found something to hold over your smart little head. Something they knew all about, and for you to be clueless!

“Baji goes for speed. I’m thinking as long as I can keep up, I might as well aim for something flashy!” Chifuyu admitted with pride.

“Oi, don’t talk down about my Goki like that! It looks cool as hell,” Baji kicked the blonde affectionately.

“Actually, that makes me wonder, how do you guys even get your bikes? They’re like, triple digit thousand yen. Do you all just have jobs or something?” You asked while more felines covered what was visible of you.

Chifuyu plucks one of the cats what began to claw biscuits into your exposed skin, and cradled it in his arms lovingly.

Baji struggled, stuffing his face with a third gyoza. “My bike didn’t really ride when I first found it. A real piece of junk. But I brought the pieces to Shin and asked if he could make it drivable.”

“Guess it wasn’t in that bad o’f shape. Polished up the framework and helped put the parts together, baby was driving the next two months.”

“So Mikey’s brother spotted you the cost to restore your shitty bike?” Chifuyu teased. “Asshole! I paid with physical labor for that bike!” Baji pushed.

Putting the context clues together, you asked without filter, “Shin sounds like a nice guy, helping you restore a bike so willingly. Maybe he could give you tips, Chifuyu.”

The atmosphere got deathly quiet.

No one wanted to say anything, evident on Baji’s hardened expression and Chifuyu being visibly nervous. “He’s dead,” Baji said finally, no indication to continue.

“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that,” you say quietly, briefly lowering your head to show your condolences. “Based on how you speak of him, Mikey seems to take after him. What does he drive?” You asked, making an attempt to sweep the rough atmosphere away.

To you, it seemed as though the subject of Shinichiro’s passing was an unpleasant one. You felt it impolite to pry.

Baji looks you over, noticing your calm demeanor as you handled the tense answer he just gave. He was used to people acting nervous around him if he wasn’t careful. But he liked feeling as though he didn’t need to filter his words to appear kinder, when he simply didn’t want to talk about it. Baji really liked the way you always treated him so kindly, accepting his sharp attitude without taking it personally.

“A Honda. CB250t.” Baji answered without reluctance. He didn’t mean to come off prickly, but the pause insinuated otherwise.

You began thinking something over in your head, before a cat pounced to get your attention, making you shriek with laughter.

“Sorry sorry,” you apologize to the jealous cat, divvying out a generous handful of treats. This distraction seemed to serve as a middle point of the lunch. Drinks were about finished, food demolished, and the sun was still high in the sky.

Chifuyu yawned, and stretched his limbs. “Way too nice to just go back home though,” he admitted, tossing his head in Baji’s direction. “What’s everybody else doing?”

Baji reciprocated the yawn, and rested his head on the back of the chair. His eyes were focused on you as you played so joyously with the cats. He couldn’t get over just how cute he thought you were. He’d be damned if he said that out loud though.

Not realizing he had went silent, Baji lost himself in through, gaze softened your way. He was so used to his obnoxious glasses blocking this lovestruck look, he found himself doing it again without them.

Chifuyu took note of this, getting mild second hand embarrassment from how oblivious Baji was.

Chifuyu wanted to feel grateful that, at least, you were too distracted by the cats to notice his captain’s affectionate stare. Except, when he glanced over at you, Chifuyu saw a twinkle of something in your eye.

You knew Baji was staring at you. And by acting as though you didn’t notice, you soak in the unintentional affection, with a blush and a smile.

Chifuyu felt his heart rate Racing at this point. This was The Most silent, yet intense, atmosphere of backhanded flirting, without so much as eye contact to fuel the flames.

The waitress had made her rounds by this point, clearing the table of everything, and asking you three if you would like anything to go. “I’d like to order two shortcakes, and three lemon iced teas please! One yuzu, rose, and lavender.” You agreed, while Chifuyu added a specialty lemonade on the to go order.

“I don’t have anything else to do,” you admitted while the three of you gathered your bearings. “Any plans?” You asked, giving no credit to Chifuyu’s exact same question that’d went ignored earlier.

Baji shruggled. “Nah. All that talk about bikes for me itching to ride, though.” He smirked.

Baji liked you, he really did. This whole time, he had made an effort to push you to not get too close. But this moment, covered in cat hair, disheveled and smiling so affectionately. Baji couldn’t help but ask,

“How bout it? You think modified bikes are cool, how bout taking a ride on one?”

The way your face lit up at his question blinded the two delinquents. “Really?!” You asked, clearly excited. “Well don’t get all misty eyed!” Baji blared back, embarrassed.

Once the three of you had gotten your to go orders, you all made way back to their apartment complex to pick up Baji’s bike and keys.

Being the sweet little thing you were, you bashful admitted the to-go order you placed was actually meant for their mothers. “Moms like it when you get them a little treat, to show your gratitude!” You reasoned with their confused response.

The first stop came to Chifuyu’s apartment, since it was two floors below Baji’s.

Chifuyu sighed, a little embarrassed at the way you chatted so openly and casually with his mom.

“She probably thinks y/n’s my girlfriend, she always jumps to conclusions like that.”

It was quiet when Baji didn’t give a reaction. He’d planned on simply waiting patiently for you to finish. He could help but notice the way you chatted this same way with his own mom.

“Guess that wouldn’t be so bad.” Chifuyu whispered by accident. Your conversation with Chifuyu’s mom died out from Keisuke’s ears, the only thing he could register was Chifuyu’s whispered words.

He knew he was overthinking it, so like everything else, he pushed the thought down, even if it did bother him.

“Well, I wanted to drop off the lavender tea and cake! I’m glad to know you’re well!” You went to wave your goodbye. “Finally we can go!” Baji grinned, hyping up his spirit to ride. “Not so fast,” you shook your head at him. “Still gatta drop off the cake and tea I got for your mom!”

Baji was stunned once again. He really did try having patience with you, but damn were you making it difficult. Without argument though, the two boys followed you to the sixth floor.

“Y/n!! I’m so happy to see you,” Ryoko sighed with contentment when she’d successfully tucked under her arm in a big hug. “Jeez, glad she doesn’t greet me that way,” Baji mumbled to Chifuyu, who laughed in response. “Cake and tea? I knew you were my favorite kid,” she took a sip of the yuzu lemon iced tea.

“Hate to remind you that I’m an only child, hag,” Baji bit back. “Gonna change; the cat hair’s starting to itch.” He rolled his eyes, leaving Chifuyu alone with the girls. “So, how’s my second favorite kid?” Ryoko asks with comical volume, aimed in Chifuyu’s direction. Chifuyu chuckled at the muffled “shut up!” that came out of Baji’s room, holding up the keys to Baji’s Suzuki.

“She’s never been on a bike before, so Baji’s gonna take Y/n riding before the meet up tonight.”

“Oi, Kei! You be careful!” She yelled seriously, sashaying over to the spare coat closet. “Do you have an extra helmet?” She asked, earning an annoyed grunt from her teenage son.

“Yes, I have an extra helmet-“ he tried agreeing with her, “is it clean?” She asked, making Baji pause his response. “…Who was the last to wear it again?”

Ryoko sighed, and pulled down a dark purple cycle helmet. “Please wear this,” she asked you, holding the sturdy plastic into your hand. “I used to wear it when I’d go out riding. ‘Long as you and Kei stay friends, use it for me, alright?”

Needlessly sentimental, you hugged her as you’d accepted the helmet before your exit.

“Where do you usually keep your bike?” you asked, aware that parking one’s bike at home can be dangerous. “Theres a cheap parking garage down the street.” Baji nodded in the direction of the garage when the turn came up.

Once making it in, the three of you circled the bike in admiration. “It’s nice,” you hummed, modestly squatting to checkout the details of the bike. “It’s okay if I touch right?” You asked.

Nervously, Baji squats beside you and made a gesture to show it was fine to do so. Ever so gently, you traced your fingers along the exhaust pipe, as though you would peel away the metal to look further inside. Quietly, you hummed, and examined the parts most visible. “It’s big though, I don’t think my feet can reach the peddle..”

Both Baji and Chifuyu laughed. “You thought i was gonna just let you ride my bike like that?” He asked as though it wasn’t even a consideration. “Huh? Is that not what you meant earlier?” You asked, embarrassed. Baji laughed again, barely making it to his feet.

“You dork! I was just gonna drive you around some backroads.” He ruffled your hair roughly. You gave a sheepish “oh” before looking away in embarrassment. “W-well, that’s fine.” You said, a little shyer this time.

Chifuyu’s eye glinted from your wit.

Chifuyu could read you like the back of his hand, a feat Baji was clearly oblivious to. By acting shy, you automatic lit a flame of nervousness under Keisuke’s idea of a platonic activity. You were hinting at the exposure—tiptoeing that line of flirtation neither of you quite crossed.

And Baji fell for your tricks like a lovesick fool, suddenly bashful and confused for as to why.

“What ‘bout you Chi?” You asked, lining the scene with a comfortable middle ground between both boys. Body language gave away you still tried including Chifuyu, as to not kick him out as an unnecessary third wheel.

“Kinda itchy with cat hair, honestly. Think I’m gonna take a shower and check out what Ryusei’s doing. Catch ya later?” He asked.

It was Chifuyu’s turn to finally let go of the reins; he’d secretly initiated the date, lead the conversation, and got you two to this point. His job was complete. Satisfied, he turned to walk away. “Wait,” you pulled on Chifuyu’s sleeve, subconsciously making the boy lean into your cupped hand. “Thanks for today, it meant a lot to me.” And with an innocent kiss to the corner of his lip and cheek, you doddled back to Baji, who’d bucking his heel against the kick Stand.

Chifuyu wouldn’t stop thinking about that chast kiss you gave him. How soft it was. How precise your movemeets were— you had Meant to kiss him where you had. Not enough to consider romantic, but definitely a forewarning that it could have been. He was swimming in those thoughts, even when he watched you and Baji plow down the street happily.

Was he seriously falling in love with his Boss’s crush?

[moraxsthrone]

okay so y'all seemed to like the whole 'zhongli tracking your cycle by scent' idea...

and if i'm going into more detail, i'm doing it RIGHT okay? 💅🏼

.ೃ࿔･ PAIRING → zhongli x f!reader

.ೃ࿔･ NOTES → this is the first of a 3-part...thing? mostly hcs, but there will definitely be (at the very least) a drabble or two in subsequent installments. if you're not familiar with the 4 phases of the human female cycle, google it. i'm not here to give biology lessons.

.ೃ࿔･ WARNINGS → mostly sfw (some nsfw at the end, clearly indicated so you can stop reading if you only want the sfw material). period sex (mention).

.ೃ࿔･ PHASE 2 →

♡ (end of) PHASE 4 - PHASE 1 ↴ (or, right before you start and during your period)

♡ zhongli knows when you’re about to start your period bc your scent changes

♡ your scent takes on a more earthy tone

♡ this is one of the times zhongli is the most sensitive to your needs

♡ makes sure you’re taking good care of yourself and/or takes care of you for you

♡ only if you let him though; he’ll never force anything on you, even his love

♡ he’s the most attentive boyfriend/husband, honey please

♡ he does various things to ease your discomfort - be it physical or emotional

♡ he’s extremely observant and he can read you like a book so he can usually anticipate your needs and does these things without you having to ask

♡ fetches your heating pad and turns it on for you before laying it across your lower belly when you’re cramping

♡ makes sure you’re drinking plenty of water and getting lots of rest

♡ knows when you need him close to you, but also knows when to give you space

♡ but if you reach for him, understand that he’ll be by your side without question

♡ requested a custom herbal tea blend just for you from bubu pharmacy; he picks it up from there after it’s been ground and mixed and keeps it on hand, so if you get headaches or cramps, he’ll brew some for you

♡ yes, he does his research

♡ encourages you to go to bed early/take naps

♡ pulls the shades, closes the curtains, and turns the lights off; lights a scented candle, turns the bed down or makes sure the couch is super comfy with blankets and lots of pillows

♡ or he draws you a hot bath to soak in to ease your aching back and hips

♡ will either join you or not, whichever you prefer

♡ won’t be offended in the least if you would rather be alone; he’ll just go catch up on the book he’s reading or write some poetry; might go for a stroll but he’ll generally stay home with you as much as possible; he wants to stay close by in case you need him for anything

♡ because sometimes you do want your space, but knowing he’s not too far away fills your heart with so much love and sets your mind at ease

♡ the times he does take a bath with you, he carefully, sensually lathers you up with body wash from neck to toe

♡ he takes his time; doesn’t get in a hurry

♡ there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than with his goddess, nothing else he’d rather be doing than taking care of you and making sure you know that you’re loved and cherished

♡ he gently massages your scalp as he works shampoo into your hair and rinses it thoroughly when he’s done

♡ nothing sexual about it

♡ just an attentive male looking after and caring for his mate when she’s most vulnerable and sensitive

♡ you’re so well cared for it almost makes you cry bc of how good he is to you

♡ he just chalks it up to you being more emotionally sensitive than usual (which might have something to do with it, but you make sure he knows how much you appreciate him nonetheless)

♡ but he thinks nothing of it; as far as he’s concerned it’s just common sense and part of what it means to be a good mate; this is how a man/dragon should treat his lady, how a god should regard and care for his goddess

♡ there’s something so soothing about the whisper of turning pages as he reads in bed next to you, or the subtle sounds coming from the kitchen as he makes your favorite tea or food (although I kinda hc he can’t cook for shit //js)

♡ falling asleep with your head on his bare chest; his tender, golden fingers smoothing your hair away from your face as he tells you one of his stories in his silken baritone voice

♡ the timbre and measured cadence of his tone lulls you to sleep as he holds your naked body next to his, skin to skin

.ೃ࿔･ NSFW .ೃ࿔･

♡ okay let’s talk about PERIOD SEX

♡ it’s relatively common knowledge that a lot of females get horny while they’re on their cycle

♡ zhongli knows this

♡ he also knows that giving you an orgasm can help ease the pain of cramps

♡ will 65461% make sure you know the offer to put his dick in your pussy and your legs in the air is on the table and he’s more than happy to help you in that regard should you choose to take him up on it

♡ his sex drive is returning to baseline (which is still pretty high ngl, but he’s not feral and borderline foaming at the mouth like he was during the week or 2 prior (we’ll get to that in the next part))

♡ but you still smell so, so good to him

♡ and if you want it?

♡ mans will not bat an eye at the sight of your menses on his dick

♡ doesn’t bother him one bit; he doesn’t think it’s ‘gross’ or ‘dirty’ (hello? he fought in the archon war…he’s seen much worse, bb, trust) 

♡ he regards it as perfectly natural, inherently feminine

♡ allow me to reiterate: zhongli LOOOOVES the way you smell, especially the couple of days prior and the first couple of days after you start

♡ so just give him the word and he’ll go fetch a towel and either make slow, sensual love to you or put you on your shoulders and fuck the daylights out of you, whichever you prefer

♡ however you need him, he’ll be there for you, to take care of you bc you are his goddess

.ೃ࿔･ zhongli m.list

.ೃ࿔･ reblogs and interactions are always appreciated, my loves !!

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Very interested in your jon OIAR au, jon being let loose like celia is rn is good fun. It makes me feel a little worse for jon honestly tho in that he's kinda stuck in the same position we are, not knowing what the fuck is going on and in the middle of situations again. Not knowing what kinda consciousness your boyfriend even is rn is a hella lot I'm guessing. How do you think he'd react after episode 22's statement?

Crashing in! Hi! Hello!

It makes me so happy to see people interested so thank you so much!

He’s in a very interesting position where he often thinks he knows more than he does, believing he has an advantage when in reality he’s just as lost as the rest of them, albeit, maybe with a string to guide him through the maze.

I won’t go into too much detail regarding the episode 22 question, as I am currently in the midst of writing the first few ‘episodes’ transcript style, and I hope to post the first one eventually when I have maybe three or four done, but suffice to say that episode will not be great for him.

Pre-canon wise though, he had genuinely believed for a long time that Martin was just… dead, so hearing his voice coming from the computer for the first time was, well, Alice had to sit with him for a while, try to calm him down. He was in a really bad state, to the point he was allowed to go home early. He’s gotten better at managing it now, but there always a quiet grief whenever he hears Norris’ voice, I would say.

He does wonder sometimes, if some of the cases are simply meant to be messages for him ‘I miss you’ ‘I love you’, maybe. He isn’t always sure.

It sort of reverses their positions almost?

In MAG 200, Martin asks Jon how much of him is even left anymore, and now, Jon has to ask the same about Martin.

Thank you for the ask though! I’m always happy to talk about my AUs!

[five-rivers]

My Kingdom of Fish poll fic! Continued from here.

(Also for Dannymay Day 6: Immortal AU, because KoF is one!)

.

But Danny had already started to reach for the badge with the lantern symbol, entranced by its curlicues and the graceful curve of the glass.  The librarian took this as him pointing, and swept all the other badges off the table.  

“So, um,” said Danny, rubbing the back of his neck, “what kind of an alteration are we talking about, here?”  He could practically feel his parents glaring at him, for all that he was a whole dimension away.  

“The lantern is the symbol of light,” said the librarian.  “That’s what it gives you.  Extra light.”

A pretty minor transformation, then, compared to other places he’d been.  “Anything else I should know about?  Side effects?  Library rules?”

“Your Library of Tongues card says you’re a minor.”

“I mean, when I got it, but that was years ago.  I’m over eighteen.”

The librarian looked at him skeptically.  “Chronologically, perhaps.  Board policy restricts minors from accessing age-inappropriate topics.  These topics include, but are not limited to, certain sexual and reproductive material, details of portal mechanics and construction, duplication, decomposition of human bodies, summoning rituals, except for instructions on how to prevent oneself from being summoned, metaphysical or core bonding, except for prevention methods, coming of age rituals, customs, and rites, and any similar rituals restricted to adults.  Do you accept these restrictions?”

“I’m not sure how I’m going to tell if something includes one of those things without looking at it,” said Danny, rocking back slightly.  “Why are portals restricted, anyway?” he asked, echoing a question from his Dad.

“Because they are exceedingly dangerous and liable to end people.  But you won’t need to figure out what is disallowed yourself.”  She held up a roll of stickers.  Most of them were generic circles, but the one on the end was a cute little cluster of stars.  In the center of the largest star, the word ‘MINOR’ was written.  “We add these to minors’ badges.  They’re linked to an effect that will prevent you from entering the relevant areas.”

“Oh, that’s alright, then,” said Danny.  It grated, a little, but he had more or less accepted that ghosts, much like his parents, were never going to see him as a full adult.  

Partially, unfortunately, because he never would be.  

The librarian stuck the sticker on the badge.  “As for other rules,” she began, “common courtesy applies.  No fights.  Capturing pests like dire bookworms is fine.  No damage to the library.  Food items should not leave marked areas.  Do not attempt to remove books from the library.”  She tapped the visitor’s badge against the counter and began to make another note on her pad of paper.  “And be quiet, or the lost ones might take you, I suppose.”

Danny’s eyebrows went up.  “Lost ones?”

“A legend,” said the librarian.  “Every so often, a story circulates about people becoming permanently lost in the lower levels of the library.  I’ve never seen evidence of anything of the sort happening.  We do send out search parties for those guests who fail to leave when their time is up.  Speaking of which, if you manage to get lost, you will be required to take two aids on your next visit.”

The librarian finished writing her note and inserted it into a slot on her desk.  “The copyists’ room has been informed that you will be arriving and your preferences regarding the translation.  They will give you the book you will be translating.”  She held the visitor’s badge out to Danny.  “Clip this to the front of your clothes and try not to lose it.  It’s much more tedious to undo the alterations when you leave if you don’t have it.”

“They don’t just disappear when you leave?” asked Danny.  That was unusual.  Most transformations like this were location-dependent.  

“They do, eventually, but since they aren’t entirely natural, they tend to stick a little more.  So.  Don’t lose the badge.”  She wiggled the badge a little.  

Danny took it and briefly searched for a part of himself that wasn’t covered with equipment and would fit the badge.  It was harder than he’d thought it would be, but he managed.  

The transformation hit almost immediately.  

Most of the glow a ghost produced wasn’t in their skin, but their aura, hovering less than an inch above it.  Danny’s aura flared and billowed out, going from moon-like to a luminous nimbus Danny could probably read by.  

Actually, Danny reflected as his aura stretched out even further, pulling gently but firmly on his core, someone twenty or thirty feet away could read comfortably in this much light.  

His parents exclaimed over the change in brightness and ecto-energy readings, the light no doubt whiting out their video.  

He swayed slightly, and blinked hard as some mechanism in his eyes and perception shifted to accommodate the light.  He reached out to the counter to steady himself, and was surprised when his hand hit not the counter, but the wall.  Somehow, the equipment he had so carefully put on felt loose, precarious, as if he was going to–

At the last minute, he managed to catch the complex camera rig and lower it to the ground.  Then, he decided that sitting down would be good for him, too.  He put his head between his knees as best he could, stripping off a few more pieces of recording equipment to do so, and waited for the waves of dizziness to pass.  

Finally, he looked up.  He could see down the long reception room as easily as before, but it was much better illuminated now.  He held his hand up in front of himself.  The first thing he noticed was how light seemed to trail after it, a sort of neon afterimage, almost like something in a video game.  

Then, he noticed how small it was.  

He jumped to his feet, then off them, so he could properly grasp at the counter.  He only vaguely noticed that his usual jumpsuit had been replaced with loose pants and a smock that fell to his knees.  His hands left glowing prints on the wood.  

“You didn’t tell me I was going to shrink!”  he hissed.  

The librarian held up her hands.  “Usually, it’s not quite so severe.”  Her eyes practically twinkled.  “But you must admit, that it is much easier to tell who is a minor at a glance, this way.”

Danny huffed, drew his eyes down over himself again, then deliberately flew in front of the cameras, light trailing behind him, lingering in the air like ink in water.  “How old do I look right now?” he asked his parents.  

“Oh, dear,” said Maddie.  

“I was never good with ages,” said Jack.  

“Five, I think.  You looked like this when you started school.  Danny, maybe you should come home.”

“I already made the deal to translate, backing out would be bad form.”  He looked around at the equipment he’d shed during his transformation.  “I’m probably not going to be able to bring most of this, though…  It won’t fit, and my arms just aren’t big enough to grab on to everything.”  Although, he could probably drag it around with telekinesis.  That required an awful lot of concentration, though, and he wasn’t sure he could manage it.

“You can leave what you can’t take in here,” said the librarian.  “We have a coat room for just such a purpose.”

Well, that was one problem solved.  Now he just had to decide what he could take.  The Fenton Phones, of course, since they still fit alright in his ears, but what else?