#I hope this reads. Ignore if it doesn’t

[lightseoul]

CHAPTER 3 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 4.0k (i know)

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), much cussing, some adult themes (again, no smut y'all), bkg and reader go through one stage of grief: bargaining, the plot thickens!

a/n. wrote all this in one day—i couldn't put the doc down until i finished it. this chapter is jam-packed and has lots going on, but we're only at the beginning. i hope you have as much fun reading it as i did writing it!

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

“…Though I trust you’ll understand if we set some—” he pauses, and you’re 99% sure it’s for dramatic effect, “—precautionary measures in place?”

“Waddya have in mind?” asks Bakugou, his rough tone laced with unmistakable skepticism.

“Well, for starters…”

Their leader glances back at the bionic woman. “Sayaka, are they ready?”

Sayaka nods. “Ready for installation, Masaki-san.”

You scramble to take a mental note of their names—as well as try to ignore the fact that the robotic girl sounds like a robot, too—as you watch Masaki gesture to the escort from earlier who’s standing at the sides and in the shadows.

He emerges into the dim lights with a wide stride, but to your surprise, another leg steps forward right beside him. Your eyes trail up until they land on the other person, widening in confusion because they look just like a carbon copy of the intimidating escort—tall, ginger head, pale skin—only it’s a girl.

There’s no mistaking it.

They’re twins.

Twin bodyguards. In a quirk supremacist group.

You fight the urge to let out a dry laugh.

But apparently, neither of the two finds the situation funny, because they’re nothing but serious as they approach Masaki and bow politely, before heading to Sayaka and taking what looks like tiny…metal pieces?

You don’t get the opportunity to wonder about what those were, though, because, in the blink of an eye, the twins are already stalking straight toward you and Bakugou, glaring daggers.

“Those are bugs,” Masaki explains just as the twins arrive right in front of you, with the guy from earlier towering over Bakugou and the female staring you down a few inches away from your face, decidedly a little too close for comfort. You barely manage to stop yourself from gulping and looking away.

“They’ll be tracking your speech and movements 24/7. And don’t worry, they’re waterproof.”

You sense Bakugou’s about to spit some smart-ass comment, judging by the way he puffs up like he tends to do when he’s about to drop a curse-riddled quip, but he doesn’t get the chance to deliver the blow because the twins are on you in an instant.

You accidentally let out a yelp as the woman grabs the hem of your tank top so roughly you think it’s gonna tear, before she stuffs her right hand up. Mortified, you struggle against her hold, but her left has a death grip on you.

“Relax,” she seethes, obviously very much already done with you. “I’m just installing it.”

At her words, you manually will yourself to calm down, and it quickly dawns on you that she’s not touching you violently or inappropriately. You tamp down a shiver as her cold fingers come into contact with the center of your chest, right at the dip of your bra and between your breasts, feeling the surface before sticking something that you promptly identify as the tracker.

And as she retracts her hand and steps away from you, right at the same time as her twin like they’re wired for synchrony, you reflect on how it’s so light that you barely feel an added weight to your body. It’s circular, too, and you debate for a second whether or not to peer down at your chest to see what it really looks like, before ultimately deciding against it.

You can do that later, in the privacy of the (hopefully not downstairs) bathroom.

If such a concept even exists.

“Thanks, you two,” comes Masaki’s gentle voice, before shifting to regard you and Bakugou. “You can get to know your designated guards later on, but for now, let’s continue.”

As if on cue, the twins take a further step back before eventually returning to their dark corner.

“What we just affixed on your chests are special devices, again, designed to monitor any sound you make as well as your specific locations. They’re not your ordinarily engineered trackers—they’re Sayaka’s thanks to her quirk—which also allows her to directly receive the feedback and project it for others to see and hear.”

Ah.

You don’t know how that works exactly, but you bet the expensive ass perfume that you got for your birthday last year—the very one you wear for special occasions like now—that it’s got something to do with her robotic parts.

“Does everyone in your group get one, too?” questions Bakugou, who’s now looking a bit miffed. You’re sure he didn’t enjoy getting felt up by a stranger who he just called someone’s little lackey.

“Only the new members,” Sayaka answers succinctly, her voice sounding like it’s filtered with autotune.

But especially you two, you finish for her in your head. And really, you can’t blame them. Taking in a pro-hero, let alone Japan’s #2, is a huge gamble, and Bakugou quite literally can make or break their whole plan to attack. This level of precaution is not at all uncalled for. You’d even go so far as to say it’s not enough.

Bakugou must be thinking the same thing, too, because he doesn’t offer a follow-up question.

Masaki takes your silence as a sign for him to go on.

“Of course, that’s only the first layer of protection.”

Shit.

You hope you didn’t just think that into existence.

The plain-looking leader puts on that prudent smile of his, before turning to look at the old man. “Kouki-san here has a very handy quirk. Teleportation,” he glances at Bakugou, “A sought-after power in the hero world, isn’t it?”

Bakugou shrugs, although you’re guessing the answer is yes and that he’s just too stubborn to admit it.

Figures.

“Well, he’s gone and mastered his quirk, and has since been indispensable to our organization. Essentially—” Masaki huffs, like he’s preparing for the bomb he’s about to drop, “—the very moment you even hint at betraying us, we’re gone,” he snaps his fingers, “Just like that. And you won’t be able to trace us.”

“Really?” drawls Bakugou. “You’ll abandon this cushy, not at all seedy ass headquarters of yours?”

“This is only one of many, Dynamight,” Masaki responds, seemingly unbothered by Bakugou’s taunt. “And this is actually not our headquarters.”

He picks up his glass of alcohol and lightly twirls it around in his hand. “I also trust that you’re aware of what a distinguished group such as ours entails? Naturally, we need to have somewhere safe where we can conduct all our activities under the radar.”

“As you can imagine, it’s not just us five. We have many, many members who share the same principles, and this club can’t possibly be large enough to host all of us.”

“Where are you going with this?” Bakugou demands.

“What I’m saying is that we have a separate place as our headquarters, a place much bigger than this. And—” he cocks his head toward Kouki, “—we get there via teleportation.”

“Obviously,” sneers Bakugou, “Otherwise that’d be a huge waste of the old man’s quirk, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, but that’s only one of the reasons. You see, it’s also so that you won’t know where it is located,” Masaki pauses once again, which you decide in a split second is warranted because of what he’s going to say next.

“And for that to work, we’re also going to have to lock you inside.”

Your breath hitches. Bakugou bristles.

“The fu—”

“We’re going to have to make you stay with us—” the plain-looking man interjects with a slightly louder voice, “—at least until the day of the attack, as we cannot risk you two being seen constantly going in and out of this club every night.”

You’re about to contribute to the conversation for the very first time but Bakugou beats you to it. “Fucking stay in? Isn’t that gonna cause even more suspicion?”

“It wouldn’t if you both come up with a good excuse to disappear,” Kouki retorts with a smidge of attitude. He eyes Bakugou with a raised brow, “Wouldn’t now be a great time to have a top-secret ‘mission’ overseas? And I’m sure your friend here can whip something up.”

You brush off the annoyance that shoots through you at the dismissive mention. Instead, you finally bring yourself to speak up. “I thought you just said we’ll be stuffed in a secret hideout?”

“Ah,” Masaki sounds out, “You are, but this is our gateway, so to speak. You go here to get teleported to the headquarters, and from there, get teleported back here to return to the outside world. We won’t hesitate to teleport away from both places the second we have to, but that doesn’t mean our HQ is easily disposable to us, hence all these measures.”

“All this to say,” he furthers, his timid tone juxtaposing the threatening words you’re sure he’s about to utter, “You two better think twice about betraying us.”

There it is.

He smiles again. “Do either of you have any questions?”

Beside you, Bakugou mutters to himself for a second, before clearing his throat. “You’re yapping on and on about what you’ll do if we betray you and shit. Ain’t that such a warm welcome for your new members?”

—A rhetorical question, because he doesn’t let anyone get a word in. Instead, he presses on.

“But what if we don’t? What’s in it for us?”

“You get to live out your ideals, boy,” comes the old geezer’s snappy reply.

Bakugou snorts, and you’re sure it’s not because he found the guy hilarious.

“That’s a shitty deal on our end, don’t ya think so?” the pro-hero shifts his weight on his other foot. “How ‘bout this, you guarantee protection for my…friend here, and we’re even.”

You hold your breath.

Looking past the way he just so awkwardly referred to you as his friend, that segue just now wasn’t exactly the smoothest.

Still, you have no choice but to roll with it. So, with much conviction, you morph your face into that of shyness—one that you hope is charming enough to win their graces.

“Just her?” asks Masaki, placid as ever.

“I can get by,” comes Bakugou’s confident response.

Once again ignoring the mildly degrading remark, you ready yourself to use your quirk. You closely examine the leader’s features as they transform into an expression of contemplation, even as he turns to the other two and engages them in quiet conversation.

You and Bakugou stand there for a few moments, waiting, before Masaki finally turns again.

And all that preparing to utilize your quirk goes out of the dilapidated windows once you catch a glimpse of his face.

“I guess that’s settled, then.”

Called it.

Masaki then raises an eyebrow at the two of you. “Any more concerns?” he smiles to himself, “Heartwarming requests?”

Neither of you says anything.

“None?” he asks again, before patting his thighs in a gesture of finality. “Well, then, I believe it’s time for you to see your new home! Kouki-san?”

At the mention, the old man slowly gets up from where he made himself very comfortable on the couch, and walks leisurely towards you, planting himself in front of and between you and Bakugou.

“Hang tight,” Kouki smirks, reaching out for both of your hands, and you’re just about registering how eerily cool his are when the ground that was perfectly carpeted and steady just a second ago suddenly collapses from beneath you.

A violent wave of nausea instantly hits you as the room completely vanishes before you, replaced by pitch-black darkness in a second. You scramble for purchase—tightening your grip on the person responsible for whatever the fuck this is—as the noise instantaneously gets sucked in a vacuum, leaving you in full silence. Your legs are jelly as you stumble on your feet, and you’re convinced you’re going to fall to your death down to the abyss below you when—just as fast as the lounge disappeared—a warmly lit hallway materializes in front of you.

But it’s too late, you’re already out of balance and lurching forward—inch by excruciating inch—right until you feel a hand grab your forearm and you’re unceremoniously yanked back into an upright position.

You whip to look at Bakugou as you wobble on your feet, and he’s staring at you with such alarm that makes you feel so…vulnerable. He retracts his left hand a beat later when you eventually steady yourself, his serious and unrelenting gaze fixated on you before shifting to study the place you just got teleported to.

You follow suit, eyeing the hallway as you place the hand Kouki was holding into your pocket to warm it up.

Similar to the club and the room you were just in, the area is barely illuminated, but it’s bright enough for you to make out the dark wooden doors that line both sides. You’re right in the middle of the hallway, and at one of the ends you think are staircases leading both to a lower and an upper level, while at the other end is another door.

If these lead to what you think they lead…

Then, damn.

They weren’t kidding about lodging.

From the corner of your eye, you see the old man look at you and follow your line of vision, shifting to study the aforementioned door at the end of this hallway.

“That’s your room,” he offers curtly, like this job of chaperoning you to your place of residence for who knows how many days is beneath him.

Room, you parrot in your head.

Room singular.

“Well?” he asks, not even bothering to hide his impatience when neither you nor Bakugou makes a move. “Aren’t you going to check it out?”

You hesitate, glancing at Bakugou to find him frowning at Kouki, before turning to look at you.

“We don’t have all day, you two,” Kouki adds on with a sigh at the same time you raise your eyebrows ever so minutely at the pro-hero, as if asking for confirmation. “Go on, I’ll wait here.”

It only takes a small nod from Bakugou to pull you out of the paralysis, and the minute that he does, you’re already moving to the spot beside him, matching his pace as you trudge towards the door.

As inconspicuously as you can, you check the corners of the room along the wall facing you for cameras, only to find none.

And so you do it.

With your backs turned against the Teleportation master, you finally let your emotions show on your face.

You also chance a peek at Bakugou, only to find him already eyeing you with the very same expression you’re sure is written all over your features.

The one that says you’re fucked.

You don’t get to dwell or comment on the shared sentiment, though, mainly because they’ll hear every word you say, but also because you arrive in front of the door. Bakugou looks at the knob and then at you warily, and you can only nod in encouragement.

That seems to be enough of a push for him, because he reaches for and turns the handle, pushing past the entryway so you can walk in from behind him.

Now, the first thing that registers after you startle at the door closing is the fact that the room is small. Tiny, even. There’s another door at the back, which you think leads to the comfort room.

But that’s pretty much it.

That, and there’s only one bed.

To your credit, though, you’re able to refrain from gasping in horror at the sight of it, which you can chalk up to the next thing that you see—a couch.

It doesn’t seem like it’s foldable or can be converted into a larger bunk, but it’ll have to do. It’s brown and hopefully real leather this time, and is crammed right next to the bed. You remind yourself that they were only expecting Bakugou, and so you can’t really complain and that you’ll have to make do with sleeping on the couch for the next n days.

Aside from all those, though, the room is relatively bare.

Well, apart from the cameras with the blinking red light at the upper, four corners of it.

But you don’t get to wordlessly warn him about it, let alone come to terms with the fact that they’re deadass going to be watching your every single move, because something seizes your wrist, spinning you around, leaving you face to face with Bakugou.

You’re too preoccupied with the sudden motion and the fact that you’re just a breadth’s width away from each other to notice the darkened look in his eyes.

Which, in hindsight, you should’ve noticed.

If you wanted any chance at bracing yourself for what he’s going to do next.

“Wha—”

You yelp—cutting yourself off—when Bakugou, the Bakugou Katsuki—Japan’s #2 Pro-hero, Vogue Japan’s Hottest Bachelor of the Year, and the dickhead who used to be your biggest, fattest crush—grabs at your neck and smashes his lips against yours.

You involuntarily jerk away from him, but his free hand shoots up to roughly clutch your hip just as his grip on your neck tightens, pinning you in place and right against him.

And you don’t know how the fuck it happens, but he does something with his tongue, or his mouth? His teeth? You don’t know at this point, and frankly, you don’t want to know, because coupled with his scalding hold on your body, it causes you to do the unthinkable.

You moan.

And again, you don’t even get the opportunity to feel the utter humiliation, because just as quickly as he pounced on you, Bakugou pulls away, but not before scowling at the cameras as if he just noticed them—which you doubt—then taking your hand, dragging you out of the door and into the hallway.

The old man glances at you. “Are you don—”

“Take us the fuck back now,” Bakugou spits as he pulls you right beside him.

At that, Kouki’s eyebrows furrow. “You ought to know better than to speak to an elderly like that.”

But the man who just fucking kissed you apparently can’t give a single flying fuck, because he retorts without missing a beat. “Take us back now.”

That must’ve been the final straw, because Kouki’s face finally morphs into the scowl that you think he’s been trying to suppress this entire time, but to your surprise, he moves closer to the two of you and once again, reaches for your hands.

You don’t know what the fuck is going on, but what you do know is that Bakugou’s onto something here, because he wouldn’t have pulled that stunt just now without any reason, which means the last thing you should do is resist.

And so you take Kouki’s hand, just as Bakugou snags the other, and when you do, the floor gives out from underneath you.

You’re still overcome with a sense of dizziness as your surroundings shift and the noise dissipates around you, but as you find the lounge slowly appearing before your eyes, you find that it’s not as bad the second time.

Bakugou’s still holding your hand when you arrive at the second floor of the club, right back where you stood from a while ago.

Sayaka is the first one to notice you, most likely thanks to her quirk and the goddamn device stuck to your chest, but it’s Masaki who speaks up when he catches wind of your arrival.

He puts down the deck of cards you think he’s just been shuffling before shifting to look at you. “Back so soon?”

Kouki turns around to face him, “Bakugou demanded to—”

“Why the fuck are there cameras in our room?”

Offended, the old man whips around again to glower at Bakugou, seemingly ready to unleash the sermon of the century. “Young man—”

“Turn them the fuck off,” the pro-hero interjects, “And the mics, too.”

Bakugou hesitates, as if unsure of how to properly say the next few words. He glances at you, expression inexplicable, before turning back to face them. “…At least at night.”

Silence.

“Oooh, I see where this is going,” comes Masaki’s reaction a moment later, a knowing smile creeping on his face. You feel yourself flame. “You weren’t being clear with us earlier, Bakugou. You didn’t say you brought your girlfriend.”

“Didn’t think it was necessary to point out,” comes Bakugou’s terse reply.

“Yeah, well, I’m afraid it doesn’t matter either way. The surveillance is for our safety, which comes above everything else, even the privacy of our esteemed members.”

“You promised you’d protect her at all costs,” Bakugou counters. “Protecting her modesty from the perverts you call your surveillance people is part of that.”

Now, you’re not a hundred percent certain, but you’re pretty sure he just shot the cyborg a look at the latter half of the sentence, which you think would’ve been a noble gesture—if it weren’t for the fact that it’s not just her, judging by the sheer number of cameras in this room alone.

Your attention drifts back to Masaki, however, when he heaves a sigh, leaning against the couch with a tired expression on his face. “Tell me, then, Dynamight. How do you propose we make sure you don’t brew something behind our backs off surveillance?”

“I can turn off the bugs,” Sayaka pipes up before Bakugou can answer, her mechanical voice drifting across the room. “They emit a blue light at their circumference that shuts down when I turn the device off.”

“As for the cameras…” she drones on, “The blinking red light should be gone when they’re offline.”

“That shit won’t do,” Bakugou declares decisively, not even letting the suggestion simmer. “There’s no knowing for sure that they’re actually off and aren’t just hacked to seem like they are.”

“The cameras should also face down. And—” he huffs, “—We get to remove the tracker.”

A chorus of protests erupts from the group—particularly from Sayaka and Kouki—but even the twins who are still stationed at the sides. Masaki, in contrast, only sits in silence as he studies the pro-hero, but there’s no missing the uneasiness decorating his features.

“It’s only at night,” Bakugou reasons, voice now a bit louder to be heard amidst the sea of complaints. “You can set up guards around the perimeters of our room. We’ll surrender them at the door before entering, and we can’t go out beyond the doorway until they’re attached again.”

And when no one says anything, Bakugou pushes. “How does that sound?”

You chance a glance at Masaki, who does not seem to be getting anywhere near convinced.

Bakugou must be noticing it, too, because he squeezes your hand so imperceptibly that you almost miss it.

But you don’t, and quite honestly, you could have and be okay with having done so, because you were on it, anyway.

You quickly scan the room.

One, two, three, four, five.

Five.

You can do five.

And so with the most innocent tone you can muster, you speak up.

“That sounds reasonable to me.”

All five whip to look at you, and the second that they do, you pull—swiftly and in succession—eyes jumping from Sayaka to Kouki to Masaki to the male twin and then to the girl.

Your gaze darts back to the leader right after to make sure you got him, but his remarkably serene countenance is enough to tell you that you’ve successfully done it.

You did it.

You just won Bakugou and you the window of time to discuss the mission in the privacy of your own room.

And Bakugou must be seeing the palpable shift in their demeanors because he squeezes your hand once more, only this time you think it’s in gratitude.

You feel a surge of pride swell in your chest.

Let the games begin.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day

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[whoreforsexymen]

This might be kind a kind of crazy request but hear me out, but feel free to ignore if your uncomfortable. So it's Jace Talis x reader SFW but it aludes to smut. Basicaly jayce wants to gets freaky with his girl or guy or whatever, but Jayce want to watch victor get freaky with the reader, Jayce's partner. I don't want to see any smut, but I just want to see the conversation go down between Jayce and Victor, of Jayce asking Victor if we would like to smash his partner and watch them lol.

Your wish is my command, darling. Sit back and let Mommy do her thing 🤍 (Also, tagging this as NSFW since it uses strong language, and heavily eludes to is directly about cucking.)

Jayce asking you to cuck him w/ Viktor | Flash

Pairings: Jayce Talis x Reader x Viktor

Pronouns: None used for Reader. Can be read as GN!!

Rating: NSFW, 18+ MDNI !!!!!

Word Count: 447

Tags: Cuckholding, Implied M/M (if you squint), Heavy implications of sex (duh), maybe slight OOC Jayce (also, if you squint), slight Sub!Jayce (if you REALLY REALLY SQUINT)

Notes: I have yet to watch S2 because I already can’t handle the heartbreak I know is waiting around the corner for me. So this is written with S1 Viktor and Jayce!!

Also, my first request!!! EEEE!! I hope you like it!! I wrote this so fast cause I was so excited and had nothing else to do hehehe xo

I ALSO KNOW YOU ASKED FOR THE CONVO TO BE BETWEEN VIKTOR AND JAYCE— WHICH ILL DO SOON, TOO, AS A PART 2!! But I liked this idea better ansjdkdkskkkkk for now!!

“…What?” You ask, bewildered.

“I know— I know it’s a weird request. But. I don’t know. I just think it would be hot to watch you… y’know… get fucked by someone else. And— I mean. It’s not like there’s anyone I trust more than Viktor—“ Jayce spoke quickly, a hint of embarrassment lacing his words as he let out a nervous chuckle, his fidgeting betraying his best efforts to exude a calm facade.

He swallowed tightly, his nerves making him feel exposed and helpless, like a child left alone in the dark.

“So. Let me get this straight. I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right. You want Me— And— Viktor, to fuck… While you watch?” You ask plainly.

Jayce swallowed once more, his nerves spiraling as he struggled to hold himself together.

“That is what I said… yes.” He mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him, dumbfounded. The idea itself doesn’t catch you off guard—not really. In fact, it stirs something exciting within you. It’s a little unconventional, sure, but you’re not opposed to exploring what could lie ahead for your sex life with Jayce. You might enjoy letting him take the lead most of the time, but there’s something about the way he’s dancing around this topic in particular— too nervous to be bold—that sparks a fire in your gut.

“Hmm.” You hum softly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Is it just because you wanna see your boyfriend naked~?” You tease, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you look up at him, your gaze heavy with playfulness, smoldering as always.

Jayce stammers harder than before.

“I- wh- No. Pfft. It’s just- I just-..” He can’t even continue his stammering before you kiss him. It was a soft and chaste one, yet needy in its own way, and above all—understanding.

After several long seconds, once you sense his nerves start to settle, you slowly pull away, the tension lingering in the space between you.

“We can do that.” You say softly, giving him one extra peck to the lips.

“Really?” He queries, unsure of if you’re being truthful.

You emit a gentle chuckle.

“Yes, my love… I’m open to it.” You explain, running your hands along his chest… Over his vest… and down the length of his tie. You felt him shudder beneath your wandering hands.

“Why don’t you ask Viktor, and if he’s open to it, we can try… let’s see… tonight, hmm?” You ask, leaning in and nibbling his ear ever so teasingly.

After a long pause, Jayce finally speaks again, his voice quieter now, as if weighing his words more carefully.

“I already asked him. He said yes.”

[valkyrieromanoff]

God bless your dad's genetics… Dilf! Anakin x son’s girlfriend!reader

FIRST

CHAPTER TWO: DINER

synopsis: dinner with the Skywalker family becomes tense when Anakin's lingering glances and flirtatious comments about you blur the lines, leading to a drunken performance that upsets Padmé. What should have been simple becomes dangerously complicated.

warning: age gap (Anakin is 44 years old and the reader is in her early 20s), cheating, alternate universe, mild flirting in front of his wife

words: 1.6k

a/n: hello there, I am really happy with your receptiveness to this idea, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I'll take this opportunity to let you know that there will be some hotter things happening, but we'll go through a little slow burn along the way (but not so slow, lol)… thanks again, and happy reading ;)

CHAPTER TWO: DINER

The dinner had been strange. You were already on edge, meeting the entire Skywalker family for the first time while keeping up the fragile lie of being Luke’s girlfriend. Lying wasn’t your strong suit, you had agreed that Luke would answer any relationship questions to not cause any suspicion. You kept the stories simple, only a date of the start of dating or a place, which you two already have gone, fearing you’d trip over more elaborate details.

Luke being late only made things worse. You tried to keep your nerves in check, smoothing invisible wrinkles in your light blue summer dress—a simple design that, to your surprise, drew a lingering glance from Anakin. You met his eyes and quickly looked away, unsure why his gaze left your skin tingling.

The awkward silence stretched until Padmé’s gentle voice broke it. “You must be Luke’s girlfriend. I’m glad to finally meet you,” she said with a polite smile, though her eyes seemed distant, the warmth not quite reaching them.

Anakin added, voice laced with playful sarcasm, “Though Luke didn’t mention you existed until two days ago.” Padmé elbowed her husband. “Hey,” he murmured, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

Padmé's soft chuckle felt more like a well-rehearsed mask than genuine amusement. “Ignore him, dear. Let’s sit at the table while we wait for the kids.” Her suggestion carried a hint of formality—like an actress on a stage, maintaining appearances.

You followed them, feeling like an outsider intruding on an unspoken drama. The dining table, set for six, had two chairs on either side, with Anakin taking one end and Padmé the other. A trivial detail, but one that made your brows knit. Twenty-five years of marriage, yet they chose to sit so far apart?

Anakin’s eyes locked onto you, his intense blue gaze both assessing and amused. A faint, almost secretive smile played at the corner of his lips. “So, tell us…” he began, his voice deep and inviting, yet sharp as a blade. “You made the first move, huh? ‘Cause, let’s face it, Luke doesn’t have an ounce of attitude.”

Padmé’s lips tightened almost imperceptibly, her eyes darting toward her husband, but she said nothing.

“What, dear?” Anakin continued, tone casual but with a teasing edge. “We both know our son didn’t even have the guts to say his order was wrong. It was always Leia who did it for him.” His eyes flicked back to you, glimmering with something between curiosity and mischief. “Let alone asking a pretty girl out…”

Heat flushed your cheeks. It was a throwaway comment, surely not meant seriously, yet the word “pretty” lingered, stirring a whirlwind in your chest.

Padmé’s spoon clinked softly against her plate, her gaze fixed downward. He shrugged, an air of indifference cloaking him. Yet, when he looked back at you, there was an intensity—a fleeting moment where his mask slipped. You couldn’t tell if it was defiance, regret, or something else entirely.

The charged tension between you and Anakin dissolved like mist with the arrival of Leia and her boyfriend. Padmé's face softened, a genuine smile breaking through her composed exterior as she hugged her daughter. For a moment, the warmth felt real, unforced.

Anakin’s voice, however, sliced through the atmosphere, sharp and bitter. “Ah, still you, Han. I was hoping Leia’s taste might have improved now that her brain is fully developed.” His tone dripped with sarcasm, and he made no effort to hide the disdain etched in every word.

Leia shot her father a glare, but Han’s smug grin didn’t falter. He extended a hand, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Always a pleasure, father-in-law.” The greeting oozed sarcasm, a barely veiled challenge.

Anakin’s eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line as he gripped Han’s hand, his knuckles white. The firm shake—a trick he’d perfected in the army—conveyed all the contempt he couldn’t say out loud. Han’s smirk faltered for a split second, his fingers flexing as he pulled his hand back. He masked the pain well, but you caught the flicker of discomfort in his eyes.

“Where’s the boy?” Han muttered, shaking out his hand subtly, scanning the room for Luke.

“Here. Sorry I’m late.” Luke’s voice broke the tension as he slid into the seat beside you. Relief flooded through your shoulders. You hadn’t realized how tightly wound you’d been until his familiar presence settled next to you.

“I almost thought I’d have to keep your girlfriend entertained while you were gone.” Anakin’s voice, soft yet edged, drew your gaze. His smile seemed innocent, but the intensity in his eyes betrayed something else—a quiet, knowing challenge.

Your heart stuttered. There was something about the way he looked at you, those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through your façade. Like he knew exactly how he unsettled you, and took a quiet pleasure in pushing just enough to watch your reaction. You glanced away, trying to steady your breathing.

Padmé’s polite voice broke the silence, a thin thread of calm against the undercurrent of tension. “Now that we’re all here, shall we have dinner served?”

You forced a smile, nodding, but your mind was elsewhere. You had expected dinner to be calm. A sweet mistake, you realized too late.

As the courses were served, the conversation flowed naturally, wine glasses refilling with a quiet, unnoticed regularity. Leia shared news about college and her efforts to establish a student league. Luke chimed in about his progress in his engineering internship, and Padmé’s pride shone through her warm, attentive smiles. She spoke about her projects in the Senate, her tone composed and confident—a stark contrast to the simmering tension in her eyes whenever Anakin refilled his glass.

Han joined in, detailing his venture with Lando Calrissian. You listened, suspicion tingling at the back of your mind. Something about his elaborate plan didn’t sit right; it sounded too slick, too legally ambiguous. You said nothing, sipping your wine, letting the conversation wash over you. Anakin noticed your quietness, his piercing gaze lingering on you more often than it should.

“Oh, please, let your girlfriend talk a little, Luke… indulge us with your voice, dear,” Anakin drawled, his voice already hoarse and slurred from the alcohol. His eyes, sharp even through the haze of whiskey, locked onto yours. “What’s your major again?”

You swallowed hard under his intense stare, the heat rising to your cheeks. A sip of wine helped steady your nerves. You answered softly at first, but as the alcohol worked its magic, your voice gained confidence, words flowing more freely.

“Tell me more, dear,” Anakin urged, leaning forward, chin resting on his hand, eyes fixed on you as though you were the only person in the room. It was intoxicating—the way his attention pinned you under its weight. You knew it was the drink talking, but it still sent shivers down your spine.

He kept you in his focus, each question drawing you in deeper. But when his questions drifted to teasing—like what you wore to work—Padmé intervened, a strained smile barely concealing her frustration. She ordered dessert, trying to regain control of the evening.

The fragile calm didn’t last. Anakin, more energized with each drink, pushed back from the table and grabbed a microphone from the small stage in the dining room.

Leia and Luke exchanged worried glances. Padmé’s eyes widened in alarm. “What is he doing?” you whispered to Luke, but he just shook his head, jaw clenched.

Anakin’s voice, thick with whiskey, echoed through the room. “Feel my heat taking you higher, burn with me, heaven’s on fire!” He sang with an intensity that made the room shrink around you. His voice, rough yet commanding, filled every corner of the space. Padmé rubbed her temples, clearly embarrassed, but Anakin didn’t care.

“Come on, Padmé, don’t be boring. You loved this one…” His eyes flashed with a wild, rebellious light. “Paint the sky with desire, angel, fly—heaven’s on fire.”

You watched, heart pounding, as he prowled the stage, the lyrics rolling off his tongue like a promise. It was wrong—so wrong. The family’s discomfort was palpable. Yet, before you knew it, your head was nodding gently to the rhythm, drawn in by the raw magnetism he exuded.

Anakin noticed. His gaze locked onto you, a slow, dangerous smile playing at his lips. “I got a fever raging in my heart, you make me shiver and shake.”

The world narrowed to the space between you. The intensity of his stare sent heat flooding through your veins, your breath catching in your throat. How could a man be so intoxicating?

“Baby, don’t stop, take it to the top, eat it like a piece of cake.”

Your cheeks burned. It felt like a private serenade, a message only for you, even with everyone watching. You knew it was reckless, dangerous even, but in that moment, you were caught in the undertow, unable to look away.

Padmé’s voice cut through the haze. “That’s enough, Anakin,” she snapped, the sharpness of her tone slicing through the air. Leia and Luke exchanged uneasy glances, tension radiating between them.

Anakin ignored her, eyes still locked on you. “I’m getting closer, baby, hear me breathe. You know the way to give me what I need.” The words felt like a confession, a challenge, an invitation.

Padmé stood abruptly. “I’m going to bed,” she announced, her voice brittle. She walked out without another word. Leia and Han followed, the air thick with unspoken conflict.

Luke touched your arm, guiding you toward the exit. You stumbled slightly, your pulse still racing, Anakin’s voice lingering like a phantom touch. As you left the room, you could still hear him humming, his presence a storm you knew you couldn’t outrun.

[weeping-statue]

Oml I love your work sm, I’ve been reading you’re blog for a while and I’m obsessed 😭

If you end up having the time, may I request Naib, Ithaqua, Joseph and Richard—or just the first two if that’s too many! 🤍—with a s/o who was almost fatally injured in their matches and sort of comatose but eventually woke up? Feel free to ignore this if this is too much, thank you for your time~

Aww thank you so much my love<3 you’re so sweet!!! I didn’t really think that many people liked my stuff so it’s amazing to hear that they do! I try my best on these things and I hate when it takes me years to post something out.

I’m working on another fic that’s similar to this for naib so he won’t be included but I hope you’ll take Norton instead

Ithaqua, Joseph, Richard, and Norton with a fatally injured reader who finally wakes up!

———————————————————————

Basic background first before the good stuff<3

You were supposed be decoding, out of the way, and out of danger.

You weren’t supposed to take the hit. You weren’t supposed to be here.

It wasn’t fair when your body fell to the ground, blood splattering out underneath you into a pool of crimson liquid.

It wasn’t fair when he called out to you, and you didn’t answer, only to feel your pulse fading.

It wasn’t fair that he had to carry your limp body to Emily’s office in a panic, begging her to help.

And it wasn’t fair when she had said you might not wake up.

Ithaqua

He couldn’t sit by you the entire time you were in bed. It just reminded him of his mother.

He didn’t want to put himself through more with those terrible memories.

He’d visit you in the morning and at night.

Kissing you goodnight and kissing you good morning

Like some strange routine.

When he got the news you were awake he had dropped everything, but he didn’t run, he just had to make himself believe you were okay first.

He had to make sure this wasn’t some sick joke, and that he’d wake up in his bed only to be told you didn’t make it.

Stopping in the doorway, looking at you who seemed to be looking back at him with those surprised eyes, that beautiful smile he loved etched onto your face.

He knew after a blow like that there would be some damage, a large scar going from the side of your cheek and up to your forehead would forever be a reminder of his fuck up.

He feels terrible and sometimes it’s hard to look at you without guilt seeping in.

He doesn’t want to be like this but it’s his way of working through it.

He loves you a lot, he has dreams of marrying you and building a home far away. But now those dreams are plagued with the possibility that he’ll accidentally become the monster he tried to tell himself he wasn’t.

Joseph

Alcohol.

A lot of it.

Bottles and bottles of it by your bed side.

He refused to leave you. He couldn’t live with the fact he might of killed the only person he loved more than anything.

The only person that made this bearable. And they might be gone.

He would drink himself to sleep and he would drink the moment he opened his eyes.

Not a lot of people ever saw him cry, but now? Everyone did.

When he had a moment of soberness he’d look over and break down.

Joseph would barely shower, having to be dragged away from you and told to clean himself up, only to repeat that process.

During one of the times he was forced to bathe, he had stumbled back in, bottle in hand, only to be met with your disappointed gaze.

He knows how much you hated when drinks, and because of that barely touched liquor anymore.

“You said you’d cut back on drinking.” Your voice broke the silence.

Joseph rushed over to your side, falling onto his knees and sobbing. “Stop it. Now’s no time for lecturing. I thought I had killed you. I thought you weren’t going to make it. I thought you’d be like Claud, and leave me all alone again.”

Your hand makes its way to his cheek, “I’m okay. I’d never leave you alone, I promise. These things were bound to happen. But I’ll be more careful.”

He nodded leaning into your touch.

Richard

He’s fuming mad. And of course concerned.

He was made to do one thing, protect, and he couldn’t even save the one he loves?

“What bullshit.” He’d say through gritted teeth. Watching over your body, breathing raggedly. His hands smoothing out your hair to look nice with a not so gentle hand. He’s holding himself back.

He believes this is partially your fault. You should have been out of the way. Doing your job and letting him rescue.

But no, you had to disobey, you just couldn’t listen.

He’ll look like he doesn’t want to be there when his facade slips around the others, but he really does. He hates the fact that you have a terrible possibility over your head.

And he can’t control it.

He’d make sure you look stunning even in your condition. He’d brush your hair, and make sure you’re somewhat clean. Because when you wake up he’s going to want to kiss you, remind you of the way it should be.

When he’s informed by Emily that you’ve made a recovery, hes immediately speed walking towards your room.

He wanted to be the first thing you saw, but oh well. He’ll have you back in tip top shape soon.

“Richard!” You exclaimed, reaching your hand out to him.

He takes it, kissing the back, “___, my dear. You gave me quite the scare.”

“I know.. I shouldn’t have been so foolish but-”

His lips are against yours before you can finish. It’s passionate and deep with his feelings. You can tell how much he missed you, how worried he was.

“Foolish or not, you’re still here, with me. And that’s all that matters.” He says softly, loving yet serious eyes looking into yours.

Norton

Out of everyone, him and Joseph are the two absolute messes.

Joseph might be a bit worse with his drinking but Norton becomes violent and agitated.

He’s freaking out, shoving people out of the way with more strength than necessary just to get to you.

He wasn’t there to help, maybe, if he was you’d be okay.

The possibility’s are running through his head and causing him to become anxious and angry.

Fools gold is right there behind him. Sitting in a corner silently waiting for you to awake.

Fools golds matches are either quick surrenders or he’s chairing everyone immediately.

Norton doesn’t know how to comfort himself and doesn’t particularly want his hunter version to even touch him let alone tell him nice things so he’s just suffering until you wake up.

This man actually wouldn’t leave you, even if he was dirty because he’s been like this before. It doesn’t bother him.

He had watched you wake up, your eyes being blinded by the bright light of day.

He was silent until you noticed him,

“Norton-?” You began, but the minute you spoke he jumped on you. Holding you tightly.

“Don’t you pull this shit again. You.. don’t know how worried I was.” He mumbled into your neck.

A lot of apologies were given that day and fools gold was right behind you when Norton had to go.

He may not have liked his other self but he shared the same love for you like he did. And if playing guard dog for a bit would ensure everyone to be happy and safe, then sure.

———————————————————————

I fear I only like Richard’s..

[kybercrystals94]

Come Back (part 5)

Read here on Ao3

<<Previous Chapter | Next Chapter>>

Rated: T | Words: 2109

TECH 

Tech, even for all his difficulty deciphering traditional displays of emotions, can feel the ire rolling off of his brother in waves. “I do not understand why you are angry with me,” he admits, trying to match pace with the cadet who seems determined to stay several steps ahead. 

“It wasn’t your fight, Tech,” Crosshair snaps.

“Your fight is always my fight,” Tech argues. “We are a squad.”

“You are a di’kut!” Crosshair groans, putting his hands to his head and grabbing fistfuls of pale hair. “Hunter is going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t keep my mouth shut, can I? And now look at you!” 

Tech has no ability to look at himself as directed; however, he is aware that he does not look as he did when he and Crosshair left the barracks. He is trying to ignore the obvious crack in the right lens of his goggles, and his injuries likely match Crosshair’s: bruises, swelling, and split skin now covered in bacta patches. The Kaminoan medics had not been pleased when the trainers brought in an entire class of cadets. 

“We will tell him it was my fault,” Tech says.

Crosshair stops walking, grabbing Tech’s arm to make him stop too. “Why would we do that?” 

“It isn’t entirely a lie,” Tech tells him. “After all, you only said what you said because of me.”

“Stop trying to save me, Tech.” Crosshair shoves him. “You don’t always have to be the hero.” 

Tech stares at him. “What?” 

“I made my choice,” Crosshair hisses, shoving him again, hard. “You shouldn’t have to pay for it.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Tech asks. “Why are you pushing me away? Why won’t you let me help you?” 

Crosshair lunges forward, catching the front of Tech’s uniform shirt in his fists, pulling him close, and snarls, “I didn’t ask for your help. I told you to run. Plan 88. Did you hear me? Plan 88!” 

“Plan 88? What is Plan 88?” Tech tries to pull away, prying at Crosshair’s grip with shaking fingers, frightened by the sheer hatred in his brother’s voice. He’s never been scared of Crosshair. Not until…

And then Crosshair isn’t a cadet anymore. He is in the Empire’s armor. The Empire. Order 66. 

“Crosshair,” Tech gasps out, and he wraps his desperate, trembling fingers around his brother’s wrists instead. “We’re coming for you. We’re coming!” 

“I didn’t ask you to,” Crosshair reiterates, but some of the hatred has leaked out. “I didn’t ask you to die.” 

“I’m not dead,” Tech tells him. 

Crosshair tips his head. “You look dead to us.” 

Tech wakes gasping for breath, Crosshair’s voice raw and sharp still echoing in his ears. He moves to sit up, and while his entire body protests the movement, he doesn’t care. The pain means that he is awake. That he is alive. That he isn’t dead. 

You look dead to us. 

“Tech?” Kandria is standing a few meters away from him, her arms wrapped around a bundle. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” he tells her, but his voice betrays him. He swallows and glares down at his hands still trembling in his lap. 

“Okay,” Kandria says. She steps closer. “I brought you some clothes. Real clothes, that is.” She sets the stack on the cot beside him and lifts the top article. She holds it reverently, her thumbs brushing over the heavy, knitted material. “This sweater was my father’s.” 

“Thank you,” he tells her, and he hopes she can hear the depth of his sincerity. 

“Do you need help?” she asks, replacing the sweater to the stack. 

“I think I can manage,” Tech says, offering a thin smile. 

Kandria nods. “I’ll come back in a few minutes then with your breakfast. And Uncle Garo wants me to make a list of the parts you’ll need to build a transmitter radio.” 

“Excellent. Thank you, Miss Kandria.” 

The use of her name seems to surprise her, and she grins. “You’re welcome, Tech.” 

He waits until she has left the room before attempting further movement. He examines the clothing. The trousers look like they will be too wide and too short; however, they are in far better shape than his blacks. The sweater is softer than he anticipated. It is mostly dark blue, but the collar, cuffs and hem are edged in an earthy yellow design.

It takes him far longer to change than he would like, and it makes him realize just how far he will need to come in his recovery before he is in any position of escaping himself, let alone with the girl in tow. He knows that he will not be allowed to freely make contact with his brothers, let alone simply leave. 

There is a tentative knock.

“I am done,” Tech calls out. 

The door slides open and Kandria comes in with a flimsi notebook and a bowl of something that somehow smells both savory and sweet. He is sitting on the edge of the cot, and Kandria sits next to him, handing Tech the bowl. 

“It’s porridge,” she tells him, then whispers, “My own special recipe.” 

Tech takes a tentative bite and is pleasantly impressed. “It is surprisingly good.” 

“Thanks,” Kandria says, smiling. 

Tech continues to eat while Kandria draws little doodles on the edges of the flimsi.

“Crosshair is your brother with enhanced eyesight, isn’t he?” she asks suddenly. 

Tech nearly chokes on the bite he was swallowing. “Pardon?” he asks, although he knows exactly what she said; he just needs a moment to compose himself. 

“You said his name in your sleep,” Kandria explains. “You sounded so sad. Did something happen to him too?” 

“Too?” Tech echoes. 

“Well, something happened to you,” Kandria says, as though it is obvious. 

And it is.

“Oh,” Tech says.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Kandria tells him gently. “I just know sometimes it helps to talk about things when you’re sad. But not always.”

Tech stirs at the remnant remains of his porridge. “Crosshair is a prisoner of the Empire. We were trying to get information as to his location when…when I fell.” 

“Your other family was with you?” Kandria asks.

Tech nods, because the words catch in his throat. 

“So they think you are dead.” It isn’t a question. There is no question. Who could survive such a fall? Tech isn’t even sure how it is possible…and he was there…is here…

You look dead to us.

“I’m sorry,” Kandria whispers. 

Tech clears his throat. “I will not be lost forever, and neither will Crosshair,” he tells her firmly, because verbalizing it might somehow make it true. 

Kandria nods, and there is a certainty to the action that Tech appreciates deeply. He wants to tell her that he intends to take her with him, that he will not leave her behind; however, he isn’t yet sure how she would take such information, if it would be well received. She is not safe here, and her uncle does not deserve to have her in his care. It is in her best interest that she be rescued. Victims don’t always realize. 

“I suppose we’d better get started on this transmitter then,” Kandria says.

KANDRIA

“Why don’t clones have normal names?” 

Jaunt laughs. “What’re you talkin’ about, kid? You saying my name ain’t normal?” 

“Yes,” Kandria tells him unabashedly.

“Rude,” Jaunt huffs, but the grin on his face tells her that he isn’t actually mad. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him mad. “You know, my name wasn’t always Jaunt. We used to have to go by our CT numbers. Still do on official documents and all that; however, unlike you natborns, we get to choose our names…or at least get given a name by our brothers that matches our charming personalities.” 

Kandria smiles. “Did you pick your name?” 

“Nope! It was given to me by one of my batchmates. We did a training exercise where we had to go on a thirty-six standard hour hike off-world. Afterwards, I said, sarcastically of course, ‘Well, that was a nice little jaunt.’” Jaunt uses both hands to indicate himself. “And just like that, my name was born.” 

“Do you like your name?” 

“Not at first. I was hoping for something more hardcore like Droid Slayer…but it’s grown on me.” 

“What name would you give me, if I were a clone?” Kandria asks. 

Jaunt stops walking to look down at her thoughtfully. “You want a clone name?” 

Kandria nods eagerly. 

“Well, then, you’ll have to earn it,” Jaunt tells her, then turns on his heel and continues on his patrol. 

Kandria gapes after him for a moment before jogging to catch up. “How?”

Jaunt shrugs. “I don’t make the rules, kiddo, I just follow them.” 

“Will you tell me when I earn it?” 

“‘Course I will. You can bet your bottom credit I’ll have a clone name picked for you by the end of the war.” 

Kandria grins and wonders what her clone name will be.

“Can you tell me about your name?” Kandria asks. 

Tech does not look up from the wire he is stripping. “What do you mean?” 

Kandria hesitates, then rephrases her question. “Did you pick your name or did your brothers?” 

“Ah,” Tech says. “Our names more or less identify with our enhancements. They are rather obvious.” 

“Oh.” Disappointed by the short answer, Kandria continues stripping her own wire, carefully following Tech’s example. 

Tech hums thoughtfully. “You seem well acquainted with clone culture.” 

“I was friends with a clone trooper,” Kandria says. “He told me a lot.” 

“What was his name?” 

Kandria hesitates. “Jaunt.” 

“I assume his name has a humorous backstory,” Tech comments. 

“When he was a cadet, he called a thirty-six hour training hike a ‘nice little jaunt’.” Kandria is surprised at how nice it feels to talk about him. 

Tech chuckles. “That reminds me of my brother Echo…he was not originally a member of our squad; however, his name was similarly acquired. He had an unfortunate habit of echoing information to his original squad. He still does, if I am being honest.” 

“Echo,” Kandria says. “That’s a nice name.” 

“He was not always fond of it,” Tech says. “But he seems pleased with it now.” 

Kandria laughs. 

“Our sister, Omega, was named like a natborn in a way,” Tech continues. “As far as I am aware, she was decanted with that name. You and Omega will get along well, I think.” 

Kandria nearly drops the wire and blade in her hands, turning to look up at Tech. He has gone still as well, his dark eyes wide. “Ah,” he says, almost to himself, and she hears him swallow. He puts down the wire. “That is…I think that if the two of you ever met, you would get along.” 

A question burns on Kandria’s tongue, one she hadn’t even dared to hope to ask, hadn’t even considered a possibility. “You’ll take me with you?” Her voice comes out as a breathless whisper. 

She isn’t sure Tech heard her until he gives a single nod, a lift and drop of his head. “That is the plan.” 

“The plan,” Kandria echoes, and she feels the thrill of terrified excitement. 

“I have not been given the impression that you are safe or happy with your uncle and cousins,” Tech says, and his voice is quiet, even though they both know that the men in question are away from the warehouse. 

“My father would not have wanted me with them,” Kandria says, moving her eyes to the floor. “Jaunt tried to protect me, but…he couldn’t forever.” 

Tech nods again. “I know that it is a lot to ask, but I hope you will trust me.” 

Impulsively, Kandria drops her wire and grasps his now empty hand, gripping it tight. “I do!” she insists. 

Tech looks surprised by the sudden contact, but he does not pull away. “It will not be easy,” Tech tells her, “and there are risks.” 

Kandria nods. “I know.” 

“Good,” Tech says. “Then I can count on your discretion? We must not give Garo any reason to believe we have any sort of scheme.” 

Kandria nods again. 

Tech’s hand until this moment has been slack in hers; however, now, he curls his fingers around hers and squeezes briefly before pulling away. “I will give you information as you need it; otherwise, it is safer that you remain in the dark.” 

“Okay,” Kandria agrees, even if she longs to ask more questions. She does trust him. She has to trust him. 

Because there is no one else left in the galaxy for her to trust. 

Until now. 

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[giirlblood]

baby boy ( ~ 2k words )

requested by @lottiesboy !! my first time writing a real fic in a while so i hope it's okay , i may be a little rusty . :\ mid way though i realized i was Not following the prompt as well as i meant to .. i was thinking more about repressing regression than having trouble with it ough . it has the same support && message of "it's okay to be tiny" so i'm still posting because YES but if you'd like me to rewrite it differently i can it just may take another while . tomorrow i get to go home for the first time since coming to uni i'm so super excited !! i should have more time to write && stuff then . :3 yellowjackets masterlist here , upcoming list here ^_^

summary : you're having a hard time right now && need some help regressing from your mamas . they help you to see that it's okay to be tiny !

tags / warnings : hurt comfort , sfw agere , boyre , mama ! lottie , mommy ! shauna , little ! masc reader , romantic lottieshauna / butcherqueen , yellowjackets x reader , baby yells at mama :C , but everything turns out well :3

You’ve been extremely quiet the whole day since returning from class, something abnormal for you. Usually you come home full of stories for Lottie and Shauna, hardly being able to wait until dinnertime to tell them both at once. Today has been different though. When you got home you ran straight to your room, hardly even mumbling a hello to Shauna who’d been reading on the couch let alone asking where Lottie was (her beloved garden). She’d not even had a chance to react before your door slammed loudly. You’ve been upstairs locked in your room ever since, despite soft knocking on the door from Shauna and then later Lottie asking you what’s the matter and assuring you they’re here for you. You ignored this, despite wanting to let them in, because you just didn’t want to talk. God, you're tired. 

You sigh as you hear another knock on your door. It’s Lottie. “Hi there, prince. I just wanted to check in on you…” She pauses before adding, “Mommy made your favorite if you’re feeling ready for dinner.” Your ears perk up at that. You are getting pretty hungry… Slowly you get up and move to the door, opening it a crack. This earns a smile from Lottie. “There you are.” 

You don’t reply, emerging from your room without a word and shuffling slowly towards the staircase with Lottie close on your tail. She doesn’t push you to talk which you’re grateful for. You peek your head into the kitchen where Shauna is at the stove. Lottie is soon behind you, placing a hand on your back, urging you into the kitchen. You squirm at the touch. It’s not that it’s unwanted, it's just that you’re not small right now. You don’t need to be babied, you have things to do. Adult things. Noticing your apparent discomfort, Lottie removes her hand, swiftly moving to put her hands on Shauna’s shoulders, placing a kiss on her cheek from behind. 

“Smells good, my darling.” Shauna’s cheeks flush with pleasure though you can’t see it. Lottie whispers something in her ear about getting you to come down, which embarrasses you. You pretend you didn’t hear; only a child would make a stink about something like that. And you’re not a child. 

Shauna turns around to face you offering a warm smile. “Why don’t you sit down, love. I’ll make you a plate.” You shake your head, reaching to open the cabinet and grab a plate yourself. She places a gentle hand on your arm stopping you. “Come on, I insist. I can tell you had a hard day, let me do this for you.” You take a step back, wanting to say something. You open your mouth with intent to talk back but instead you heave a sigh. Obediently you go over to the table, sinking down in your usual chair. You notice one of them has filled a sippy cup with milk and placed it at your spot. You cringe, shoving it away harder than you mean to, knocking it over in the process. 

Lottie notices immediately. “Hmmm looks like someone’s fussy tonight.” Your eyes widen and you let out a sound almost like a growl in frustration. 

“DON’T CALL ME THAT. I’M NOT LITTLE!” You yell and the volume of your voice surprises even you. Lottie shrinks back, her shocked expression hitting you like a slap in the face. Immediately you apologize three, four, five times, your head sinking into your hands. Lottie regains her composure quickly, speaking softly. “It’s all right. I shouldn’t have assumed. You’ve had a tough day, you’re allowed to feel angry.” 

You’re quiet again. Shauna places a steaming plate in front of you, and you mumble a thank you feeling embarrassed at your behavior and your caretakers’ responses to it. “A meal would be good for you right now.” You lift your head up and nod. 

“Thank you…” you repeat, unsure of what else to say. 

“Would you like to eat by yourself or can Mama and I stay?”Shauna asks gently. You’re not sure why she’s being so nice. You’ve been hiding in your room all afternoon; you just yelled at Lottie. Your eyes fill with tears. “You can stay,” you choke out. “Please stay,” you add. 

Having made herself a plate, Lottie comes to sit down next to you, immediately noticing your tears. “There, there.” She pats the hand resting next to your fork. “Are you ready to tell us what’s the matter?” You shrug. When Shauna sits down and gestures to your plate you pick up your fork and start eating, having a few bites before you say anything else. 

“It’s just… everything is hard recently. I’ve been working so much but every day there’s something new to add to the list. I just don’t want to get behind.” 

“Mhmm,” Lottie hums letting you know she’s listening. She squeezes your hand to show support, Shauna giving you a sympathetic look from across the table. You sigh, pushing onwards. “It’s not that I don’t want to regress or want to be good and all that… It’s just I can’t right now. I have more important things to do now that I’m at uni.” You sniffle. 

“Is that how you really feel? That your regression is unimportant?” Lottie’s tone is soft. You shrug. 

“Oh honey,” Shauna starts. “Your regression is important. If it helps you cope and makes you feel better then it’s super important.” She goes on seeming to pick up on what you didn’t say as well. “Your well being is what’s most important to us. Whether you’re regressed or not you will never be a burden to us, isn’t that right Lottie?” 

Lottie nods. “Oh 100%. You’re our boy whether big or small.” 

“Is that why you’re so upset today, baby?” Shauna asks you. You hesitate before nodding. She lets out a sympathetic “Awww.”Upon hearing your stomach growl loudly she motions toward your plate. “How about you finish your dinner and then we can talk more. You must be hungry.”

You nod, obediently picking up your fork and beginning to eat. “There’s a good boy,” Shauna smiles and Lottie pats your hand again. You blush, focusing on your food. You finish first and wait for Shauna and Lottie to do the same, staying silent. Your eyes are drawn to the sippy cup of milk, still knocked over. A kind of ache begins to settle over you. The frustration and hurt of the recent days slowly begin to dissipate, and you get the strong urge to pick up the cup and drink from it. But you can’t. You don’t feel even remotely small, and you’d feel too silly to drink from a sippy cup while big. 

Shauna notices you staring at it and at your empty plate. She and Lottie look at one another and Lottie nods. “Here buddy, if you’re all done why don’t I take your plate for you? Do you want to drink your milk?” You shrug, unable to look at her. 

“Sort of but… I don’t feel little…” You flush red. 

“Would you like to?” Shauna asks you and you flush an even deeper red, almost purple. You nod, feeling too embarrassed to speak. Lottie chuckles, scratching the top of your head. “All right then. Why don’t I take your plate and Mama can go grab some pjs? Would that be okay?” You nod some more still blushing. 

“Oh don’t look so embarrassed, silly boy. It’s okay if you want to be small.” You open your mouth as if to protest and she gives you a look. “I promise that. There is nothing wrong with you regressing! I’ll tell you as many times as you need me to.” You hide your face, feeling a bit overwhelmed. Your mamas are too sweet. 

Shauna picks up all three of your plates going over to the sink to wash them. You notice she leaves the sippy cup which you pick back up so it’s no longer on its side. She gives you a wink. “Let’s leave it out in case you want it a little later, hm?” You nod, following Lottie as she goes out of the kitchen and back upstairs to go pick you out some pajamas. 

She opens the hall closet full of your regression items, ranging from clothes to toys to bottles and diapers. You’re a little embarrassed upon seeing those but Lottie ignores them, instead focusing on the row of pajamas. “What are we thinking, big guy?” She pulls out a few options, a pair of puppy printed ones, and a set of footies patterned with trains. 

You slowly reach out for the puppy ones, feeling a little awkward as you still don’t feel quite little. “Can you get dressed by yourself or do you want mama’s help?” she asks gently. She gives you another reassuring smile. 

You laugh a little nervously. “I can do it myself.” She nods, turning her back as you slip into the bathroom to get changed. “You can go downstairs, ma- Lottie. I’ll be quick.” You realize your mistake after it’s done, glad Lottie can’t see you blushing as a result. Maybe you’re starting to feel a little small. 

“Are you sure, bud?” 

“Mhmm.” 

Still you can’t help but smile at the fact that she’s still standing outside when you finish changing. She coos upon seeing you and you suddenly feel shy. “You didn’t have to wait…” 

“I know, but you’ve had a hard day today. I didn’t want to leave you up here all by yourself.” 

You don’t respond, allowing her to guide you back downstairs, this time into the living room. You’re surprised when you walk in to find Shauna with your sippy cup and a big blanket, a cartoon now playing on the tv. It’s Garfield, your favorite. You stop in the middle of the room, eyes fixed on the screen, already feeling smaller than you were a few minutes ago. 

Lottie feigns shock gasping and pointing. “Who’s that, baby?” 

“GARFIELD!” You shout excitedly not looking away. Shauna chuckles.

“Shh, mama and I are right here, buddy,” she gently scolds. “But aren’t you a smart boy?” You giggle. “Why don’t you come sit down?” Shauna pats the seat on the couch next to her. “Mommy could use a little cuddle,” she continues and you run over to her, eager to oblige. 

Lottie sits down on your other side. “Room for me?” You giggle. 

“Of course! Silly Mama.” You hold onto her hand while you’re snuggling with Shauna. She plants a kiss on your forehead. 

“Such a sweet little one. Is my boy starting to feel small?” As you slip further you become less anxious and awkward about your regressing. You nod unapologetically. 

Shauna is still holding your sippy cup in her free hand, now offering it to you. “Are you ready for some milk, honey?”You nod, making grabby hands for the sippy cup. Shauna tries to place it in your hand but you whine shaking your head. “Oh? What’s the matter?” 

“Mommy give me.” Shauna looks a little confused but Lottie seems to understand. 

“I think he wants you to feed it to him, darling,” she whispers loudly. You nod. 

“Oh! Why of course my sweet boy.” You giggle, kicking your feet a little. You get yourself settled in her lap and she holds the cup up to your mouth allowing you to drink. After the big dinner you had it doesn’t take you very long to get full. You turn your head to the side, refusing the rest of the milk. 

“Oh, is baby all done?”You nod, babbling a little in response, feeling super tiny. She chucks your chin, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You stifle a yawn but Shauna catches it. “Looks like somebody’s getting sleepy.” 

“Nuh uh,” you try to say but you really are. “Stay.” 

“Okay, buddy. We can stay down here a little longer but if you’re sleepy we gotta get you to beddy bye.” You babble, trying to let her know how very wide awake you are thank you very much! Still, you don’t even make it through one more episode of your show before falling fast asleep in Mommy’s lap with your head resting on Mama’s shoulder. 

[faylvrs]

you just can’t call a spade a spade ✿ megumi fushiguro

﹒postscript : megumi can’t confess to you﹒fem reader

the moment is just right.

it’s been a long day strolling around tokyo with your teammates. yuji and nobara had insisted you come along to check out a few shops nearby that had opened.

it must be a nice gesture as you completed a hefty mission not too long ago—at least that’s what you think.

it’s all a plan that was setup, to make megumi grow closer to you. he has no idea why he trusted those two idiots and this stupid plan.

because he’s shaking right now, trying to catch his breath as he gazes at you humming a relaxing tune. you’re not bothered at all. yuji and nobara said they had to ‘go to the bathroom for a sec’ ( it’s been more than 10 minutes ).

you’re completely oblivious to this setup, and megumi feels guilty. is this method even okay? is he on the right track? is he doing good? a rush of anxiety washes over him. he should back out now, or maybe he shouldn’t. he’s overwhelmed with indecisive thoughts.

he sighs as he looks to the right, a vein popping on his forehead when he sees yuji and nobara giggling by the tree giving him signals. well here goes nothing…

“hey.” he avoid’s your gaze, staring front with a pretty pink color capturing his face. “i just, wanted to ask something.” he doesn’t miss the way you eye him curiously.

“what is it?” you slightly fix your poor posture, hoping he didn’t notice how you were sitting like a shrimp on the bench a few seconds ago.

“well.. i kind of..” the syllables come out in stutters, an unusual sight for someone cool-headed like him.

there are so many things he wants to say out loud, how captivating your smile is, how he’d get all giddy whenever he hears you call his name, that he likes you.

“forget it, it’s dumb.”

there’s so many things he could of said. so many words held back at his throat and yet all he could do was push them further back.

he can’t even look at you, he’s pathetic, he’s sick, lovesick.

“thanks for making me curious.” you scorn playfully. maybe now you do think it’s something dumb, maybe his feelings are dumb. he’s just a teenager with no experience, it’s just a crush anyway.

“it’s late.” you look up at the sky which had already turned dark. “im going back, catch you later?” you slide your phone back in your pocket, standing up from the bench and dusting yourself off.

“yeah. ill see you.” megumi nods his head. once you’re out of sight, he sees the two idiots running towards him with disappointed expressions.

“come on, fushiguro!” yuji quips. “you seriously fumbled the bag..”

“exactly, and you didn’t even offer to walk her home—did you read anything from the book i gave you?” nobara crosses her arms.

“you two..” megumi lets out an annoyed sigh. “im going back too.” he announces, ignoring the baffled look on their faces.

“hold it! you promised to treat us after this.” nobara grabs his shirt in time. “you know what, forget about that idiot. at least pay for my clothes!” nobara huffed. “hey!” yuji glared at her.

“ill treat you guys tomorrow.” megumi groans, he’d nearly forgotten about that. “you better not be lying!” yuji yells as he watches megumi walk away.

“i swear..” megumi walks a far distance away from them, now walking down a lane across the street. “why can’t i just say it?”

the question rings in his head. he doesn’t know why he felt discouraged mid-confession. he can’t explain why his heart was pounding loudly in his chest, that he had the sudden urge to shut up and run away. is this what love feels like?

megumi’s always been direct, but with you, he just can’t seem to call a spade a spade.

[apintofguinness]

Actually, I’m gonna keep going, because this pisses me off.

Laois reacting the way he did makes sense as someone who is enamored with monsters. If he had an interests in robots and Faline had turned into a robot, his reaction would be the same. Because he thinks that turning into a monster would be fucking awesome. Because he’s a dumb guy who forgets himself when focusing on monsters.

Laois is not sociopathic for having a reaction like that. He’s ignorant of the effect that his words have on his companions, but he doesn’t mean for it to come across as bad. He just thinks that Faline has become what he loves second-only to her.

“Faline shows Laois a degree of care and consideration that is not fucking returned at all.”

For fuck’s sake, he was willing to brave the dungeon by himself so that he wouldn’t put Chilchuk or Marcille in unnecessary danger. You know, that thing that happened in the first fucking episode?

“and speaking as someone who is autistic.”

Lily, you are not autistic. You said it yourself. You called it a “junk diagnosis.” Shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down, and listen to people who actually know what they’re talking about for once in your goddamned life.

“Autism doesn’t take over your life to such a degree that you’re incapable of taking a serious situation seriously.”

Yeah, it fucking does. As an actual autist myself, I have completely missed when people are being serious about something, due to me misreading their facial expressions or tone of voice. Because I’m fucking autistic. When you don’t realise that a situation is serious, you don’t treat it seriously.

“What autistic person are you being? Are you infodumping to people at a fucking funeral?”

Some autistic people lack awareness of social situations. They have trouble “reading the room”. I myself have felt the need to infodump as a way to distract myself from the suffocating situation of being in a room/building with people who I don’t know. It might not be appropriate, but it’s not done out of malice, only ignorance.

Hell, I once cracked a joke about another cousin’s weight gain and quickly realised that it was bad time to make it. I apologised for it and they forgave me, because they understood that I didn’t mean it to be insulting. It’s also because my family, and Irish people in general, are very prone to “slagging” people off.

Also, infodumping by itself isn’t rude. Me and my boyfriend, also autistic, infodump about stuff all the time. Because it’s how we communicate our interests and passion. It’s rude if you infodump at the wrong time or in the wrong place.

And fucking hilarious Lily calling anyone else impulsive when she flashed her tits for the reason of, and I quote, “It was fun.”

“Sheldon Cooper”

Fuck off Lily

Sheldon Cooper is a narcissist and is willfully ignorant of his friend’s feelings or needs. His friends rightfully call him out, but he never develops out of his narcissistic behaviours! He gets a girlfriend, but doesn’t become less selfish. Even in the flashes we get of the future in Young Sheldon, he hasn’t changed.

Sheldon Cooper is a terrible example of an autistic character, since he’s portrayed as a burden to everyone around him due to his own behaviours and who never changes, who his friends only ever tolerate because he’s useful to them.

“People who don’t like growing as a person”

“My tolerance for pasty blonde boys was already at an all-time low”

Fucking funny coming from the pasty white woman who pretends to not be white. Also, sit your racist, sexist ass down.

“inability to follow the plot”

Also, I love how Lily calls Marcille the only character who isn’t a lunatic when, you know, Chilchuk is right there. Holding the one brain cell. Hell, Marcille’s great idea to get a mandrake was to tie a bird to it and hope she didn’t die when she heard its screams. Chilchuk is the sanest member of the party, not Marcille.

And all of the party members have quirks. Chilchuk is the straight man, Marcille easily panics and is the one most resistant to eating monsters, Laois is obsessed with monsters, and Senshi lives in the dungeon itself, which speaks to his own mental state.

“Autistic people aren’t so ignorant of the world around them that they can’t perceive when they’re supposed to take something seriously.”

Yes, we are, Lily. A lack of social awareness is one of the most defining traits of autism. You sound like one of those kinds of people tell me that I’m just “using my autism as an excuse” for when I fuck up in social situations. Cuz I’m fucking autistic.

And do you know what’s infantilising, Lily? Having someone claim to be autistic so they can speak as an authority on something they know nothing about, speaking over the people actually affected by what they’re saying.

“Laois’ inability to pay attention to anything around him is what kickstarts the fucking plot.”

Laois was focused on how hungry and tired the party was before and during the dragon fight. He was panicking because all of them could have died. Due to how resurrection works in DunMeshi, it’s not guaranteed unless you have someone like Falin able to do it. So, there was a big threat that none of them were about to make it out of the dungeon alive.

“Everyone gives shit to Marcille!”

Yeah, they give shit to every member of the party. Laois catches massive shit in the armor episode, while Chilchuk gives huge shit to Senshi for being reckless with the traps in the trap episode. Almost like they’re a party of dysfunctional weirdos and get on each other’s nerves.

Pictured: Some of the “worst, most one-dimensional world characters ever written.”

Okay, I recognise only a few of these, so let’s go through them:

Lysandre’s goal is to destroy the world in order to rid it of what he feels is ruining the “beauty” of the world. And yet, he knows that this goal will kill Pokemon, which he sheds tears over, showing that he does have some depth to him. But he’s not one of the worst characters ever written.

Pearl’s entire character is learning how to live for herself, after years of living for others.

Korra is an abrasive character who puts too much of her worth into being the Avatar, and slowly learns throughout the series that this behaviour is reckless. She develops into a more mature, responsible person by the end of the series.

Also, love how Lily just claims that you could remove Hunter from The Owl House, despite him being tied to the main antagonist. She says this about Laois too, despite him being Falin’s brother and the protagonist.

“I hope you get beaten to death with a rock.”

Oh, I love it when Lily goes all ‘internet tough girl’. Don’t cut yourself on that edge.

“writing sibling relationships become a more present muse of mine”

Oh? And why is that, Lilian dear? Could it possibly be because of your sister’s accusations of molestation, rape, pedophilia, and having an incest fetish?? Hmmmmmm?????

And would you look at that! A mention of Baldur’s Gate 2, where you downloaded a mod where you can romance your sister! Which you called one of the best rpg romances you’ve ever seen!

Alright, that’s enough goblin-posting for today. Hope you enjoyed my rant.

This was the video that she said, "weebs were being transphobic, so i had to delete it and re-upload it."

I asked my autistic friend to watch this to get his thoughts on it the bottom is his response.

Him: "okay I just gotta say. Some autistic people are not as aware of themselves as others I can totally see an autistic guy having that kind of reaction. Inappropriate, sure, but I don't think he likes what happened to his sister(I'm pretty sure it's his sister) I think he's just reacting to what's in front of him. Like holy shit I was kind of with her at first but she is so goddamn annoying it's hard to be on her side She is so fucking full of herself and refuses to be wrong about anything."

Me: so it's ableist?

Him: Oh extremely. But I'm mostly caught up on this lady just being an asshole in general.

[stupidlypregnant]

Oh sweet one. You poor thing. So overfull. Stuffed to the brim with babies. Our babies.

They’ve been giving you a hard time, yeah? Can’t blame them. They’re so big, while you are so…small. So tight. No wonder the 3 of them want out so badly, but that body of yours doesn’t seem to agree. I hate seeing you like this, my poor lovely thing.

Don’t worry, I have the solution. I’m going to roll you over onto your side and I’m going to kiss all the way down your back to till I get to your hole. Get it nice and wet, so that when insert my cock into it, the stretch won’t hurt as much.

Once I know it’s in, however - that’s where the real pain will start. Because I’m going to fuck you open.

I’m going to make sure that hole of yours is so loose and sloppy that those babies will fall out of you. I’m going to dig my fingers into your thighs as I open you up, your belly bouncing against the bed with the effort.

I’m going to pound you so hard that when I bottom out, my balls smacking the curve of your ass, that my cock’s going to kiss your heavily filled womb.

Hopefully, if we’re lucky, I’ll pop you like you want. If we aren’t so lucky, well…there’s always round 2.

(Hello, it’s your quite articulated Anon again, I’m happy you enjoyed my last ask - so here’s another that I hope you’ll like.)

This has been sitting in my inbox for too long. I'm always way too horny when I'm on Tumblr, especially reading my asks ... so my little brain stops functioning and I don't know what to say anymore other than please ...

Do all that. Have me stuffed to the brim with your babies kicking in my belly. Induce me with your cock. Make it so good that I don't even want you to stop when I'm going into labor. Or just ignore what I want and do it anyway. Because I'm all yours, my tight belly is proof of that ... 🥺

[bloobydabloob]

You doing good dude

[jackattack20writes]

As much as I love the reading of Bleach’s ending as a tragedy, one thing’s always bugged me about it and it’s why Renji has a happy ending. Like out of the core cast (in my eyes this is Ichigo, Rukia, Orihime, Chad, Uryuu, Renji & maybe Byakuya, just cause they’re most consistently prominent in the arcs) he!s the only one that doesn’t have the easy argument that he’s settled or unhappy with the epilogue, like Ichigo & Rukia you can argue their with people that aren’t who they love, Uryuu is a doctor and alone while his friends celebrate, Chad is using his fists for profit, Orihime is still at the bakery and never got to live the dreams she had (also she was probably kicked out of home at post high school because her aunt housing her was dependant on her grades) and Byakuya is tied with Rukia being unhappy.

But Renji is seemingly the happiest he’s ever been, he’s married the woman he’s spent over 80 years crushing on and he has a kid with her. But then it hit me the other day that’s exactly why his ending is one of the worst out of the characters I’ve mentioned. When Renji actually gains some detail as a character we find out he has one major goal in life, surpass Byakuya and save Rukia from the Kuchiki’s (slight paraphrasing). But Renji never manages any of it. He fails to both save Rukia and defeat Byakuya in the Soul Society arc, firstly because he’s too scared to try to go against them and then because he’s too weak (both these goals are also largely dropped here and Renji just kind of floats along as one of Ichigo’s multiple rivals and has no more character growth or change) but Ichigo achieves both of these goals rather easily in comparison. Ichigo unlocks Bankai ridiculously faster than Renji does and then defeats Byakuya and saves Rukia.

Meaning there’s nothing left for Renji to do. Sure he could continue trying to conquer Byakuya, but he never seems to reach his level (especially going by the fact Renji’s still his vice captain in the epilogue.) Byakuya is still the star Renji can’t reach. Same with Rukia, sure he marries her but she’s still Rukia Kuchiki. Hell she’s even a captain now while Renji is still a vice captain, not only is Rukia still as far from him as she was in the soul society arc she’s even further away, he’s just the stray dog barking at the moon he called himself back in the soul society arc. But then just like his goals if you compare it to Ichigo, ichigo does it. Ichigo’s symbolism is the rain is dried by the white moon, the moon is reachable by Ichigo, we’re shown one of Byakuya’s central beliefs of who he is loyalty to Ichigo. But Renji is trapped on earth seperate, never truly reaching the star or the moon.

And with how we’re shown Renji thinks about himself he’d never let himself forget it. Every member of his immediate family other than his daughter is someone he’s separated himself from in his mind and since we never get shown anything to indicate that changes, Occam’s razor suggests it doesn’t. Somthat’s renji’s tragedy in the ending. His entire life is reminding him every goal he ever set he not only failed but someone else achieved. That’s the tragedy of Renji’s ending and really is the final nail in the coffin that no one is truly happy or anything past content in Bleach’s ending.

[calamitydaze]

long tag ramble below u have been warned

[cosmicsnufkin]

.

[boysnberriespie]

Always gonna miss pre-S2 when we could imagine Stizzy happening pre EdStede getting back together and we could see Ed comedically being offended that Stede had the audacity to leave him and then steal his purse dog-wife (we can still imagine this, but it was a sillier era long gone now 😔)

[mymelodyisme]

Hi… it’s really hard hitting longing hours.

[fierykitten2]

Slight discussion of a leak from the Game Freak gigaleak (Z-A-related) so it’s hidden under the cut

I’ll be honest my hype for Z-A increased slightly because I discovered Zeraora (my favourite Mythical unless Wake and Leaves count) is getting a Mega