#I know it doesn’t matter ok I know he’s irrelevant

[persephoneprice]

i get it panlo is like the least relevant character but I’m still lowkey kinda sad we didn’t get like. a real casting for him.

like why is this 30 year old buff ass stunt double playing a teenager

[risuola]

▶ BRUTALLY HONEST — when Satoru asked you for a rather unusual favor.

contents: silly Satoru, college+roommates!au, suggestive, humorous (??), male anatomy in brief detail, reader discretion is advised — wc. 934

a/n: ok, this part is... a little more into 18+ territory but still keeping it light and friendly between the trio. a crack if you will, let's all appreciate the stupid boy Satoru.

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Question!”

The moment Satoru stepped into the room, you could tell from the look on his face — the typical mischief twisting his features into a caricature of innocence — that there’s something going on his mind that you may or may not want to know.

“Yes?” You encouraged carefully, flipping your eyes back onto the stack of papers in your hands. Notes, that you wished would transfer their contents onto your brain before you fail tomorrow’s test.

“I have the most random question– a favor, actually and you have to bear with me.”

“Hit me.” You were ready for–

“How many dicks you saw in your life?” –well, not that. “Real life, real dudes, that is. Not porn.”

You blinked.

Once, twice. The air seemed a little thicker than just a moment before and you shouldn’t be surprised. Satoru is unpredictable, he’s vibrant, he’s straight to the point most of the time, but that took you a moment.

“Can you repeat the question?”

“Dicks. Penises, cocks��“

“Yeah, okay, I got that.” You cut him quickly, abandoning the idea of studying and now paying him your entire attention. “You have to give me some context, Toru.”

“I’m curious if you girls have a preference? Speaking about aesthetics. Do you, like, judge the look of a dick?”

“Has anyone made you insecure about the look of your dick or what is it about?” You asked, confused, though confusion would be an understatement to describe the state of your mind now.

“I don’t know, no one said anything but, uh–“ Satoru began, shrugging nonchalantly, but there was a subtle uneasiness hidden underneath his lighthearted tone that you could spot with no mistake. “Every time I am with someone, they look at it as if they saw a ghost and most often it gets me down before the party begins, so it made me wonder.”

You put down the notes, abandoning the hopes and dreams about a good grade tomorrow and your fingers found their way to the bridge of your nose, pinching it — a typical gesture when you tried to collect your thoughts.

“I highly doubt any part of you could not be appealing, Toru. Even your feet are pretty—”

“Irrelevant. So, I’m asking do you have enough picture storage in your head to compare or do girls even pay attention to the looks of a dick?”

“Well, yeah, I guess? I mean, I received a fair share of unwanted dick picks, I’d say I know how a cock look like… But I don’t know, I think the judgement happens automatically,” you said, exhaling. “I think I saw once a very unimpressive dick. The rest was rather similar, I suppose—”

“What do you mean by unimpressive?”

“God, that’s embarrassing. It was my first partner, you probably don’t even know him, but the guy had at max two inches, which is fine as long as you can work with it, but he lasted less than ten seconds and on top of that he was hairy like a gorilla what probably took an entire inch off his length.”

“Wait, you had a hairy gorilla boyfriend and we don’t know about it?”

“It wasn’t my boyfriend, we didn’t even end up having sex. It doesn’t matter, okay?”

“We’ll get back to this, but now, dicks.” Satoru got closer and kneeled on the bed. “So, the favor. Can you be honest? Like, brutally, 100% honest?”

“Honest about wha— Wait, you want me to judge your dick?”

“Yeah?” He looked at you with the pleading expression in his blue eyes, his voice got whiny for a moment and you really wished to flick his forehead right now. “Please? No other girl will be as honest as you and Suguru is not really the respectable source of knowledge about the issue.”

“Christ, okay.”

You agreed.

You said okay, but for some reason it still shocked you when Satoru, instead of talking like he usually does, pulled his sweats down. Looking away was your first reaction. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking, but he literally just asked you to judge, so you slowly allowed your eyes to run down his body, leaving his handsome face and landing finally on the now free manhood, and oh boy, there was a lot to analyze.

The word pretty usually wouldn’t be your first choice when talking about penises. They were usually very similar, more often than not unimpressive and overall uninteresting, but Gojo… He was just that. Pretty. Incredibly long, and girthy too, covered in light skin with the baby pink head. He looked heavy, mouthwatering, like a dessert of sorts. The set of veins spread from below his stomach and wrapped around the shaft. He was mostly clean shaven, with just the tiniest happy trail of white hairs that against his light body was just barely visible.

“And?” He reminded you why you are even taking in the view. “Brutally honest, please.”

“You know what… I really, really hate giving a head, but that dick I’d suck for hours. It actually makes me salivate, you’re fucking pretty Satoru. I don’t get your concern,” you told him, finally looking away and getting your thoughts together, forcing them together. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “If they look oddly, that’s probably because you’re fucking huge. Christ–”

“It makes you wanna give me a head?” He grinned, obviously catching onto the words you said when you weren’t thinking clearly.

“Hold your horses and pull those pants up. You have nothing to worry about, you’re gorgeous from head to toe, you idiot.”

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu, @juicedcherry, @themoreeviltwin, @stevenknightmarc, @ms5m1th

[rubyarerosies]

No period = frantic boyfriend

suguru x f!reader + pregnancy scare

angel: Not in today, just threw up

Amongst the class, only sat Satoru and Suguru, Yaga should be in soon. Suguru suspects Shoko is with you, possibly using actual medical attention on your since it doesn’t sound to severe.

“I do know the basics, leave me alone,” she muttered. “It’s for y/n ‘cause she gets sick a lot,”

Suguru grows flush, mind roaming through possible answers.

“I see,”

“It’s not what you think!”

suguru x: Are you ok?

suguru x: Text me if you need anything so I can bring it after

“The missus?” Gojo inquired, his head protruding out a bit to gaze at the messages. But Suguru retracts it.

“Yeah, supposedly sick,” he huffs out. As bored as his tone lets on, only Satoru and you could decipher that he worries (it’s not particularly hard, since it’s in the way he grows distant in his current circumstances)

Satoru chuckles, “cheer up! Y/N-chan is probably just on her monthly!”

Suguru’s scowl deepens.

“What? At least you know you’re not going to be a father anytime soon,”

Suguru chokes. A small series of coughing ignite within his throat. He hears the maniacal laugh of his friend soon after.

“Don’t speak about that so… comfortably,” he utters, his brows furrowing out of shock.

“Blah, blah, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Gojo dismisses, “Sex is natural Suguru, you should know,”

Satoru wiggles his eyebrows, and Suguru feels himself fall into a pit of shame instead of his friend.

It’s only been a few months since his first time. You were his first (and hopefully, his only) It was an agreement between you both; once you both hit the age of 18, was when you two could finally give in to the temptation.

Ever since, he feels the desire more deeply than before.

“Shut up,”

Suguru resumes going through his phone, and Satoru continues to talk (nothing new)

angel: i’m late asw

Suguru’s hand shoots out, landing firmly onto Satoru’s shoulder. His friend had been chatting about something irrelevant after his teasing rampage, Suguru seemed occupied with his phone, but Satoru knows he can multi-task his hearing.

“What?” Satoru raises his eyebrows.

“I’m going to pass out,”

Satoru has seen his friend covered in blood, witnessed him take blows after blows from deadly opponents, gazed upon the sight in which Toji Fushiguro left him in, he has once never passed out because of them.

But now, Suguru is safe, in an environment in which he relaxes into. And he utters words like that?

But Suguru isn’t true to his word, matter-of-fact, he’s capable of pacing around the classroom like madman rather than someone who was at the brink of becoming unconscious.

“what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” Suguru mutters.

Whilst he’s in his anxious state, Satoru takes it upon himself to see what made his friend so… weird.

angel: i’m late asw

“Oh shit!”

Both boys pace around frantically, Suguru doesn’t take notice of his companion doing the same as him. He’s too deep in thought: What if he’s not a good dad? What if his baby grows up in this mess-of-a-society? What if Satoru gives them a sweet tooth? What if you’re not ready? What will happen to you if you proceed with this? Wouldn’t it hurt your body?

Satoru is the same: I need to work on my baby skill. Would Suguru let me take him out for ice cream every Sunday? Will you let him? Will the baby even like sweets?What should I get for the baby shower? Maybe Suguru will let me do those cliché gender reveals.

Yaga walks through, his stern expression growing more intense as he stares at his two idiotic students.

“What are you two doing?”

They both still. Suguru glances over to Satoru, Satoru glances back; both completely panicked.

“Nothing-”

“Sir! Suguru is due to be a father!”

“Am not!”

Suguru sees his teacher, and for once, it isn’t masked with a sense of authority and annoyance. He can do that? He seems in disbelief, his arms slightly unfolding, but he still remains set.

Suguru stumbles, “no, it’s-it’s nothing like that, sir,” —shaking his head— “Satoru, here, doesn’t know what he’s talking about,”

Satoru bashfully sways on his feet when Suguru glares skillfully at him. Yaga too, seeming as it wasn’t his information to spill.

“No need to be ashamed or scared, you-you know kids aren’t all that bad, they get a bad rep because of parenting but most aren’t as—”

“Sir, I don’t think this is necessar-” Suguru is cut off by his teachers life-lecture, he feels himself internall curl into the depths of shame and worry, possibly even anger at himself that he didn’t think of this consequence efficiently.

He sees his phone has received new messages.

angel: NVM

angel: just had a shower, and it all came out

angel: it was disgusting

Purposefully out of his persona, he lets out a large sigh, falling into his seat, disrupting the tangent his teacher had carried onto.

“She has it, no need to worry now,”

Yaga grunts, he feels like his words went to waste.

“Don’t worry, sir! I shall use that information wisely,” Satoru exclaims, saluting promptly as if he were a soldier at war.

“Shut up, will you!”

-

“Satoru just texted, said him and Suguru just finished panicking,” shoko utters out, “and that Yaga gave them a talk about kids,”

“Wow, I didn’t think it would scare him that much,”

“Any guy who gets that text is bound to react like that, Y/N,”

“You’re right,” you said, eyes lingering on into thought, “I wonder what Yaga said,”

“Now that you said that,” Shoko quips, her cigarette coming out of her mouth, “me too.”

[nightcolorz]

Unhinged Sybelle and Benji tangent (cw references to abuse csa trauma etc)

yeah so Marius’s turning of Benji and Sybelle isn’t about whether or not that was the right decision to make and isn’t made better by their contentment living as vampires in late canon. Benji and Sybelle’s relatively happy lives as vampires are irrelevant to me. The cruelty of how he did it is made worse by the hypocritical nature of turning a kid into a vampire after so firmly insisting that turning children is morally abhorrent and smth he should’ve never done, yeah, but that’s only a small part of it.

It was so awful and upsetting to me bcus of the deliberate stripping of Armand’s agency. See, we have a whole book where Armand tells the story of how throughout his entire life and childhood he was forced into the role of submissiveness and/or dependency. whether that be his childhood religious devotion that would eventually lead to his being buried alive for God or being sold into sexual slavery or Marius’s mentorship of him that ultimately intended to teach him to stay loyal and dependent on Marius’s authority to Marius’s relationship with him sexual and otherwise to the cult indoctrination, up until Lestat comes along and tilts his own view of submission and devotion as his only way to survive and function in the world onto its head.

He gives him a theater and then he gives him Louis. Armand floats around, tries to find purpose without devotion through using Louis and Daniel as tools to understanding the modern age. The modern age to Armand is possibility and independence, things he’s never had so much access to and doesn’t know exactly how to apply to himself until the devils minion chapter when he’s like ah ok I get it, life without devotion is something I’ve always been familiar with—it’s what Marius taught me! I Am The Master now with my excessive indulgence and my Boy and my sea side paradise.

But Armand is a Void™️ with no concept of self besides a collection of concepts and experiences and people he’s been exposed to throughout his existence, so rlly he’s kind of a fraud. Internally he’s still a saint who yearns for a God to follow, he’s no Marius, and this all comes to a head in Memnoch the devil when he throws himself into the sun for Jesus etc. and so TVA Armand is mixed the fuck up, he’s lost everything he’s been building for himself, he’s like an open wound, like red and gold sand art shaken around until it’s sludges of brown.

Armand believes himself to have no coherent narrative of a life, no coherent and consistent sense of self, just a collection of unrelated sequences that he draws from to occasionally preform personhood, and at the beginning of TVA he is very much just that. No thoughts only colors and pain. But he’s trying to rebuild himself as best he can, he has these young humans who he’s caring for, and through caring Armand finds meaning.

These humans are very much reflections of himself, or who he used to be, and seeing a personhood reflected back at him through these two gives him insight into his own value as an individual, as someone who is inherently worthy of having a life. So with Benji and Sybelle he tries to rebuild his own sense of personhood by giving them what he would want in there place. The conclusion he reaches at the end of his story to David is that after everything ultimately he is learning and rebuilding, gaining fulfillment and individuality he’s never had before through his empathy and care for these two people in his life. Benji and Sybelle are representative of Armand’s healing process!!! They mirror him bcus they are him!! He’s literally nurturing his inner child!! And with that there comes self care and self love etc etc. but then the book doesn’t end!!

Then after all that trauma and all that healing everything that Armand was tenderly attempting to build for his new life is stripped away ! When Marius turns Benji and Sybelle it doesn’t matttttter that they like being vampires. What matters is that when Armand finally gained agency and individuality Marius decided to take that from him! Marius decided that he actually knew better then Armand, and if Armand would just allow him to do what’s best for him then everything would be so much better and so much easier. And when Armand starts sobbing and screaming and fighting him that’s just justification to Marius that Armand isn’t capable of independence or self sufficiency, that he’s a child throwing a tantrum who can’t make his own decisions, that he should just be dependent on Marius like he used to be and trust that other people know what’s best for him.

That’s why it’s so tragic! That’s why it’s so frustrating and so sad. Armand was on the road to healing but then Marius stormed in like the symbolic representation of his past telling him that no matter what he does or the progress he makes he’s still Armand in the catacombs, Amadeo on the red sheets, Andrei waiting to be buried alive. So I don’t really give af if ultimately Benji and Sybelle are fine! It’s great that despite being a child vampire Benji is able to function independently and contently as an adult with minimal body dysmorphia and existential dread, but you know who’s not able to do that? Armand 😭😭

[mykneeshurt]

so I don't know if you would feel comfortable doing this but could you do the 141 and Alejandro Rudy

So you and them got invited out to go to the bar with the rest of the boys, but before you'll get there you were having measure insecurity problems. but you go anyway because you want to spend time with the guys. You goes to the restroom/bar to get something drink/etc. and when you come back, you see someone flirting with them. so when you pulled them away from that person who was flirting with them said something nasty about you as you guys walk away from the situation walk and it makes you feel worse so how would they comfort you when you get home

I don't know if that makes sense I'm not good writing out that type of stuff but I hope it's good but yeah I hope it's good

Of course! Some fluff and comfort coming up ❤️✨ gender neutral reader

Warnings - low self-esteem, low self-confidence, self-critical reader - I wrote this last night and I didn’t save it ffs

Walking back out of the toilet you saw a young woman, maybe no more than 25 draped over Ghosts shoulder. Flirting relentlessly with any of the boys she could get the attention of. Feeling annoyed you walked over and pulled her off ‘ever heard of personal space?’ You narrowed your eyes, eyebrows furrowed as you shot her a warning glare.

As she met your gaze she rolled her eyes, ‘and who are you?’ She scoffed, clearly thinking a lot about herself. ‘I’m their friend and you’re making quite the spectacle of yourself. Maybe you should have a water.’ She sneered in your direction, judging everything about you. ‘At least I am a spectacle, not some boring lookin’, ugly cretin’ she laughed. Ouch.

Ghost moved her away ‘I don’t think so love, you don’t speak to them like that.’ She rolled her eyes and walked off, to find someone else to annoy. The familiar sting in your chest began to rise, tears hung just under your irises threatening to fall. That critical voice found its feet again, chipping away at your self-confidence.

Needing some fresh air you left the pub, sitting on a near by bench you picked at your thumbs. The voice shouting at you from inside. You were in your own world until a familiar shadow shat next to you on the bench. ‘You ok?’ Soap asked, his soft gentle eyes studied your face, the smile you’d been wearing all evening now lost. You shrugged not wanting to talk. He draped an arm around you and pulled you close to him, ‘don’t listen to her hen, she’s some drunk tit who wanted to make you feel bad, so she could feel good. Ain’t nothing wrong with you.’ He pressed a tender kiss to your temple whilst he rubbed your shoulder.

Wondering where you were Gaz and Rudy came to check on you. Gaz sat on the side side of you as Rudy knelt by your knees. ‘What happened? Saw you leave’ Gaz asked, his voice laced with concern. ‘That woman who was all over Ghost said some horrible shit’ Soap spat, clearly pissed off at how she had made you feel. ‘Oh babe! Take no notice of her, she doesn’t know you. Not like us, and we think you’re pretty incredible’ Gaz said placing his arm on yours. Rudy placed his hands on your knees trying to offer some comfort. ‘The only person who’s important is you. They’re irrelevant to you, they don’t matter. You do.’

You smiled at him, your sad eyes still fighting to hold in the tears. ‘I’m gonna head back’ you said with a sniffle. ‘We’ll come with you.’

Walking back to base Price noticed the change in your demeanour he hurried up to you. ‘Everything ok kid? You ran outta there earlier.’ You sighed and nodded, ‘naw I know you’re lying kid. You upset about what that woman said?’ Nodding again your averted your gaze from his, not wanting him to see how upset you really were. He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder ‘oh love, she was talking shit. You’re one of us, family. Nothing anyone says will change that. We love you for who you are.’

You tried to accept what he was saying but you couldn’t. That little voice inside your head still telling you she was right and that you were worthless.

Back at base you went to make a hot drink. Something to distract you from your mind. Hearing a shuffle behind you, you turned and saw Alejandro standing in the doorway. Just seeing him stood there made you burst out crying, the damn of sadness finally breaking. Alejandro pulled you into a tight hug, the feeling of his warm embrace made you cry even more. You felt safe, warm, like you could finally let the catharsis happen. Heavy tears fell onto his jumper as he ran his hand over your head, trying to sooth you. ‘I’m sorry’ you sniffed.

Alejandro pulled away and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. ‘You don’t owe that woman the time of day. She doesn’t know you like we do. That little voice in your head is a lair. You know what we do with liars?’ You shook your head, confused. ‘We kill em!’ You allowed yourself to laugh at this, a real belly laugh. Hearing you chuckle was music to Alejandro’s ears. ‘Thank you’ you smiled, hugging him once more.

As you got back to your room you noticed Ghost stood outside. ‘Hi’ you whispered. Ghost stood there studying your face which was still wet from tears. ‘Mind if I come in?’ Sighing you opened the door and let him in. Walking into the room you sat yourself down on your bed, clutching at your hot drink. ‘Struggling with that voice again?’ Ghost asked as he rested against your desk. ‘Yeah, I just … I don’t know how to deal with it. What that woman said really hurt me.’

Ghost nodded, understanding what you meant. ‘When people pull you down like that it’s cause they’re full of shit and hurting themselves. They bring you down because that’s all they know how to do. They wanna make themselves feel better. You don’t owe them anything.’ You sat taking in what he was saying. You knew he was right, her opinion of you wasn’t important, she didn’t matter. ‘You gonna be ok?’ He asked.

‘Yeah, I think so’ you smiled up at him.

[arcuiedforever]

Ok a while ago I did a umineko weed headcanon post, but now I feel the urge to do one for tsukihime so here we are

Shiki Tohno:

Smoked once with Inui and proceeded to get so high that he thought a chair was his deceased father

Arcueid Brunestud:

She gets small star shaped edibles that she takes on weekends, joints at parties

Ciel:

She rolls massive blunts and smokes them with Inui

Akiha Tohno:

Kohaku makes her try different weed concoctions

Hisui:

Not a frequent smoker, but she does sometimes drink a little weed infused tea to sleep and instead gets freaked the fuck out in the mansion

Kohaku:

Grows and smokes weed as well as making many creations, though she also smokes some of the other things she grows that aren’t poisonous

Satsuki Yumizuka:

Cart brainrot, you can find her in the bathroom stall on lunch breaks making it stink

Arihiko Inui:

Smokes everything carts, vapes, cigarettes, bongs, dabs, it doesn’t matter, if he can he will

Noel:

Narc.

Roa:

Wrote a very long book about the connection between the soul and marijuana (its medieval philosophy bullshit)

SHIKI Tohno:

He’s in a basement so I don’t really know, maybe Kohaku puts weed gas in his cage or something idgaf

Vlov Arkhangel:

He’s cold idfk

Mio:

Got kicked out of her middle school for hitting her vape in the middle of class

Dr. Arach:

She’s beyond weed, she’s doing heroin

Saiki Gotou:

He’s to irrelevant for me to care 😞

Thank you for listening to my very long text post

[thequietmanno1]

TheLreads, Vigilantes ch 106, Replies Part 2

1) “Looks like something out of fucking silent hill, this is way beyond what I’d expect

I thought it be more like a wolf or cheetah, but now, we’re all in with the cockroach approach”- I’d have said more Resident Evil Licker personally. 2) “Now it’s not the time Koichi, also don’t throw stones from this glass house you live in”- Hey, can’t blame the guy, it’s not like he’s ever actually seen how he looks whilst crawling around on the ground before. 3) “Oh I don’t think those weak things are gonna do much to damage him. I don’t think they’ll even faze him long enough to be a distraction

he’s pissed enough that you could shot him in the head and he wouldn’t stop chasing you”- Doesn’t help that they’re also the slower softball shots, when Koichi actually needs something like the rifle blast to stun or phase Nomura meaningfully – hell, we’ve seen that he can shrug off bullets to the body with the way he can reshape his form, shooting him with the deadly attack really is Koichi’s best option, but sadly he’s not gotten it through his head yet that it’s ok to kill a guy if he’s rejecting his own humanity. 4) “No surprises there, your stance is perfect for quick dodges, your center of gravity is low, your profile is smaller, sidestepping is a breeze with a speed quirk

doesn’t change the fact that looks creepy as shit”- Koichi’s finally experiencing what everybody else has when “fighting” against him, although Nomura’s adoption of his own fighting style is understandably more aggressive and horror-movie monster like. 5) “Are you trying to teleport behind him like it’s nothing personal? Seriously? How many times did you try that already McBee? How many more times you’re gonna try that before you realize that doesn’t work?”- He really thinks the limb restriction on Koichi using his power is the thing to exploit to take him down, and in theory it should be…if not for the fact that Koichi’s been underselling the full potential of his Quirk’s functions from his anti-fighting method this whole time. 6) “Yeah but he can fucking fly and maneuver in midair, you know that

McBee, do you suffer from some form of short term memory loss? Because that happened less than two chapters ago you’re making Dory embarrassed”- In Koichi’s current position, his attempt to fly would have only pushed himself backwards into Nomura’s fist faster, and Nomura was confident he could land a direct hit before Koichi realised he’s moved into his blind spot…except, with the full scope of Koichi’s power revealed, it doesn’t matter. 7) “I’m just as shocked as you McBee

what the fuck was that

like

what

the fuck”- Koichi can emit the repulsion force from anywhere on his body, not just his limbs. He finds it easier to use them this way, especially for aiming and flying, but the repulsion force was always something that he cold emit anywhere from himself. It was even alluded to back when Koichi first showcased his ability to fly as a baby- if it was so hard for him to aim and fly by emitting the repulsion from his limbs like a jet engine, there’s no way he’d be so stable crawling through the air. 

Sure, we see the circles that indicate he was using it from his limbs there, but it makes more sense for Koichi to have been emitting the repulsion from his whole body at once to stabilise himself all over, “crawling” atop the resistance against the ground to gain elevation. He learned to pinpoint and focus it more on his limbs, but in a moment of crises, he can apply that same pinpoint accuracy all over himself. This also means he doesn’t need to aim and fire with his hands or feet, he can shoot those bullets from anywhere on his body. Koichi is the gun. 8) “Irrelevant, he’s gonna block it again

because now apparently he can generate repulsion fields from his back as well???

What”-And now we see the full scope of Koichi’s power. It was noted before that Koichi’s Quirk would have been a benefit if it’d been added to the powerset of OFA. Here we get the full idea of how; it’s literally the missing invulnerability/damage-negating shield that is Izuku and All Might’s only real weakness, the one thing that stops them from being able to pull stunts like Superman and tank bullets or attacks without moving an inch. Giving the invulnerability to someone like Koichi, who lacks the intent to fight, means he’s still a serous threat in the battlefield, because no matter what you hit him with or where, he’ll always get back up and continue to harass you. Granted, it’s countered by his lack of strength or force, but if Izuku had this power backing him up, he’d be able to go toe-to-toe with Tomura no matter how overwhelmingly strong he is.

(Vigilantes ch 51)

9) “Good ob Koichi, you’re going against a much larger foe and standing your ground, and you didn’t even needed to get a power upgrade this time. I think we’re about to hit the ceiling on the number of abilities this boy has, from now on it will be just a matter of refining and bettering them.”- Bwahahaah! Yeah, I thought that too, but Koichi’s base power Is just really flexible- hell, there’s a ton more abilities I think he might be able to refine from his unlocked powersets following this clash against his shadow copy.

(Vigilantes ch 76)

10) “Now that I think about it… This is going to be a training arc, right? Koichi improving and honing his abilities, learning his limits and pushing them further beyond, this is where we`re walking into, right?

Because two years wasn`t enough time for him to become good with his quirk, right Furuhashi?

Alright, that`s unfair, he showed that he actually improved quite a lot with his quirk since then, and again, it was not like he had a real objective like saving Pop to push him into a serious mode.

That I can understand, that in particular I consider a justifiable reason for this arc. But even so, this still doesn`t feel right… Yeah, koichi is a bit stronger now, but not as much as we`d expect after two years as a solo vigilante, nor he shows the amount of experience I`d expect, but I suppose he never was that serious about it, like the smear campaign that the author is doing against him is making us believe.”-Turns out Koichi needed to cram so much training montages and level-grinding  in, he’s even still training and learning right in the middle of the climatic fight- In fact, he’s learning even faster than he would otherwise! So many skill trees to use, so little time…. 11) “Okay McBee, now you can call bullshit and say that he’s cheating, because honestly that one was pretty cheap.”-I guess this could have been alluded to before, but Koichi’s refusal to directly participate in fights always obscured that he could do more with his power than he himself believed possible. Once again, Koichi’s greatest handicap isn’t like Izuku’s body not being able to handle his full power, it’s his lack of self-confidence handicapping his ability and the full scope of his strength.

12) “No I think that’s a pretty big damn issue here, because what the fuck dude

That’s like if Shigaraki or Uraraka suddenly managed to activate their quirks by touching any part of their body rather than only the top of their fingers. That’s where the quirk factor is, it’s not a matter of not pushing hard enough, it is the equivalent of trying to hear with your eyes”- Honestly, if they develop themselves enough and push their power to the limit, I do believe they could eventually achieve something like that. Tomura’s already exceeded his “five finger limit” before against Re Destro, it’s not a stretch to imagine he could eventually push the Quirk’s effect to active from his toes or even from touching his body at all – though thankfully, the power he already wields means he’s disinclined to push himself that far with his Quirk when he already has what he needs to destroy everything that oppresses him.

13) “Now you’re worried about that? Even though he was doing so for the last few chapters? The answer to that is simple: he’s faster, simple as that.”-  The Overclock speed Quirk was the thing that Nomura based his whole identity and reason to exist around, carving out a place and a world for himself where only he had the freedom to pick and choose what would happen. Koichi reacting to that is intruding on his private domain, and in turn undermining Nomura’s sense of self-worth in himself, which was already unstable from his mentor rejecting him to his face in favour of Koichi. @thelreads

[extreme-neutral]

There is so much I want to know about Cy. Let's start with 11, 22 and 25? :)

Yes, I initially underestimated my ability to just talk about him. My bad! 🥲

11. are they more self-serving or more focused on others’ needs?

Cy’s self-serving streak is missing (almost?) completely.

One thing you need to know about him is he’s a perfect service dog. He’s used to obeying orders and thrives in executing them successfully. Not having someone to tell him what to do actually sucks for him: he feels useless, anxious. So it’s a habit of his to just do his best to help when asked - he compensates for lack of orders like that subconsciously. What Cyrus himself wants? Doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t even know himself most of the time. A goal and a way to execute it is all that matters.

22. how do they feel about their telepathy? is it a gift? a curse?

It’s a part of him.

And the whole of him is cursed :D

Nah, idk, it’s really hard to judge a sense this way. It sure sucks that people perceive something that’s so natural to him as hearing or smelling as something malicious. But HE knows it’s just a tool. He’d rather have a tool that’s a bother to have, than not have it. The discomfort is irrelevant.

And he definitely hates having it dampened. Short loss of it in puppet is tolerable, therapeutic even. But if given an option to get rid of telepathy completely, he’d say “hell no”. The whole of him is built around it, come on.

25. do they prefer to be alone or with other people?

With animals? 🥲

Definitely not other PEOPLE. One person may be ok, manageable. Preferred? Nope.

He’d rather stay alone. He’s a broken mess and is kinda trying to hide it. Even from people he likes: let them be at peace in the comfy little illusion that he’s fine. He’s just having a bad day, nothing to see here.

He’ll pet the dog and be on his way, shut up, Chen…

[thelonesomequeen]

Here is a master post of some of your asks. A lot of you had commentary to add after the newest DM podcast and I did get to some asks, but I wanted to make a space to post all opinions that we received. Below are anon submissions, not the commentary from moderators of this blog.

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I have a hard time believing the narrative of his family not liking her but inviting her to all the family events, parties and more./ Anon is forgetting is that in some of those events, Chris was probably the one paying the bill. So she will go and they will say nothing.

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How is Chris rushing to get married? They've been together long enough that I wouldn't call this rushing. I hope it all works out for him. My husband and I had people we were close to doubt our marriage, and it sucked. Every time we've hit a rough patch, I've wondered about the "I told you so's" we would get if it all fell apart. But we're still together almost two decades later, and counseling has been really helpful for both of us and the marriage. So, I say good luck to Chris and Alba. I wish them the best. I wouldn't want them to have to go through the pain of a divorce.

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Man I don’t get this. Even if he is rushing to get married, why are y’all acting like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s a 40 year old man, i’m sure he’s not forcing himself to get married just to be a husband. And i’m sure he’ll get a pre-nup because he hasn’t been in the industry for 20+ years and built up a career by being an idiot. They way some of y’all infantilize him is just insane. I don’t even care for Alba but y’all are acting like she hasn’t had multiple opportunities to use him for money. She could’ve easily gotten pregnant and gotten child support if she wanted instead of living in bumfuck Massachusetts for a year and going through a whole possible marriage. You know how much hate she would get if she divorced him and took his money. Even the five Chris fans who like her now are gonna hate her even more. There are valid reasons to dislike her, but this one just doesn’t stick.

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Ok so if some people in this fandom are gonna believe that his family doesn’t like her, they will have believe that they’re engaged to be married right? Or are they gonna pick and choose the info to believe that best fits their theories.

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I don’t know I just find it hard to believe what dm said about his family. Some of them might not love her but maybe to tolerate her instead of outright dislike. But still I have doubts because he’s so close with his family especially his mother. Plus his best friend of several years seems to like her too. I just don’t think he’ll marry someone when his family doesn’t like her. This also reminds me a lot of what someone said during the Jenny days that his mom didn’t like her either.

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Who in this fandom is happy about the current state of things? Literally no one.// please don’t speak so broadly for everyone! I for one am okay with the relationship (I don’t think Alba is problematic at all- her friends are a different matter), I am very happy he found love and wish them both the best. The only current “state of things” I am unhappy about is the way some parts of the fandom is behaving: the hateful nicknames, the internalized misogyny, the hate based lies, the xenophobia.😞😒

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

So why is he marrying her if his family don’t approve?/// My apologies for the light snark but: are you kidding?! You have to be joking?! Irrelevant of his reasons, so what if his family MAYBE doesn’t approve, it’s his life not theirs! Do you live your life based on your family approval over any decisions? College? Career? Love interest?- if you do I feel deeply sad for you. You live your life for you; family advice can be taken into consideration but not dictating it. & He’s online that’s why!

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cause she was 21/22 when he followed her, right? 😬 yikes)// she was 23, and he followed a bunch of other actresses all working for Netflix too, so it’s clear as day the follow wasn’t romantic but likely work related, and likely and unintentionally it eventually turned romantic. Sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants 🤷‍♀️ we don’t have control over who we fall in love with, they’re both legal, she was in her mid 20 she’s old enough. Plenty of high age difference marriage in Hollywood.

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Okay so it seems as though (to me) he’s rushing to get married // rushing? How is dating someone for over a year and being engaged for nearly a year, getting married after being together for over 2 years is a “rushing”?! That’s the standard timeline for many couples I have ever met. They say you know within the first 6 months it you’re in love and if this is the person for you.. sounds to me he knew and acted upon it. Rushing would be if they eloped within a week or even 5 months, that’s rushing

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I think it could be the rushing into it, but he very obviously wants kids and it's always risky to have kids with a partner that potentially will live overseas if the marriage ends. I hope he is at least thinking about that. I mean Chris has money she doesn't, but custody could turn ugly. I would definitely be worried about that if I was a family member.

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For what we know he was seeing/hooking up with other girls before Alba so if that Taxi cab theory was the case why Alba and not the rest?

Also someone that desperate wouldn’t wait 2 years to get married and have kids I don’t know just my two cents 🤷🏼‍♀️

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I don't think there may be issues if she decides to stay home and put her career on hold to have children or just follow him around, like she seems to be doing now. The age difference, expectations in life, cultural difference will enter sooner or later. I don't see this lasting.

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But…I give it a handful of years maybe? I think it’ll get to a point where the age difference isn’t an issue now, but I think it will be eventually

I think he very much wants kids so I can absolutely see them having one or two, staying together to try and make stuff work for them but eventually divorcing. That’s not really saying much considering divorce isn’t exactly uncommon these days.

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Real or not, I agree that it is likely his family is a bit disappointed in his choice. Maybe not Scott, but his mom and sisters seem pretty down to earth and grounded. I doubt they would approve of the age gap or the character of who he chose. After waiting for so long, it is sad to see who he finally picked.

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That man loves his family and I don’t think he will marry anyone that they don’t approve of imo

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Watching them fixating on the part that some of his family members “don’t like her”

[soumaizumip]

My Soccerwife Might Be Dead and I Am Going to Have to Learn to Be OK With That (But For Now I Am Very Annoyed)

god ok 204, let me down one last time (overreaction) (still waiting to actually see him if we even get to but the implications are driving me batty)

at this point i can’t even say if i think they’ll actually ever bring the old kunigami back. they seem just fine letting this be the way he is now

i Really wanted him to be punished in this game. if he was going to change this would have been it. this should have been it

at the very least i wanted him to get knocked down a peg. he had one goal which he basically stole from isagi which seemed to have already been going in without his intervention

i wanted him to get a lower bid this time

and yet

and it’s basically just the same thing. he hasn’t changed from when he first came back “he’s big and we trained him to be an asshole, and the people love that” 

everything points to him being successful right now, that this is what works and this is what he should be doing

hell his bid doubled even though he BARELY played a part in this game WHICH HE SHOULD HAVE PLAYED MORE OF BECAUSE IT’S AGAINST CHIGIRI AND IT SHOULD HAVE MEANT A LOT TO HIM NARRATIVELY AS MUCH AS IT DOES TO ME, A RELENTLESS FUJOSHI WITH A FIRE BURNING IN HER HEART OK I’M SORRY I’LL MOVE ON

we are being told he will not change, that nothing so far has driven him to change, whether it’s being outshone by isagi, ignored by his team, or... chigiri, at all

they really got my damn hopes up with their reunion, and their reactions on the field... when in the end it did not matter at all

this game was not about them, it was not about kunigami

when, no fujo, i think it really should have been. that’s how it was quite literally set up to be so i don’t think that’s unreasonable to think

What was all this for then. truly. did they forget they wrote this 8 months ago

if this is not what is going to get him to change then what fucking is how much more grandeur do you need because any opponent they face from now on does not know the old kunigami and does not give a shit about him (we are ignoring that on paper no one in blue lock gives a shit about each other you know what i mean)

i’m not gonna act like i know better than the author but literally what was the point of this game then. it dragged on for eight months. 204 has isagi recapping what he ‘learned’ which is learning to use his eyes for the 80th time

the game ended up having the most development for yukki? (or maybe that's just all i remember bc it took 8 fucking months) which is fine. but that didn’t need to result in their win

this win just felt like it has no point for isagi (he’d still have his revelations but who he was facing was irrelevant) and germany when a loss would’ve meant a lot for kunigami. hell even with them winning the writer just seems to not care about seeing any kind of story line for him through. and that makes me sad

maybe im jumping the gun maybe we’ll get meaningful reactions from the 2 of them after this but... i am not expecting anything anymore for this round

because honestly what can chigiri even say after this. what a kick in the face

he doesn’t really have a leg to stand on anymore to wake him up. chigiri lost, kunigami won, and he’s more successful than he’s ever been. they keep hinting at a “pride before the fall” for nagi but i doubt they’ll go through those motions for kunigami

also chigiri should’ve had a way higher bid but i didn’t know where to say that. he is the goddamn speed star

[toyfoood]

Hey remember when your boyfriend asked if you would still love him if he was a worm? It doesn’t matter how I got into your home. That’s not what I asked…. If you call the police I’m going to eat your phone. Yes I’m a goat stop asking irrelevant things. ANSWER THE QUESTION. See? Was that so hard? Yeah ok well my oozequitos got to your boyfriend and… yeah he’s a worm now. This is quite the dilemma huh? No I’m not high. Who I am doesn’t matter. *places your scrawny worm boyfriend in your hand*. Ew. Stop. Stop kissing. What’s wrong with you that’s a worm. You know what? I’m leaving. And I’m eating your phone on the way out.

[himalayaan-flowers]

idk why people think life is sacred. like not just their own lives but other people’s.

people’s feelings aren’t sacred. if someone lives & suffers that’s ok but if they die??? that’s a tragedy

literally why??? it makes no sense. suffering is the tragedy. not death??

yes it means you lose all potential to experience anything good but if those good things were always going to be heavily outweighed by bad things then??

i know religious people will strongly disagree bc they’ll say life is a gift from God but even if it is i don’t see how that changes anything?

like even if God exists it’s clear He values free will and isn’t going to intervene and stop suffering.

just bc God gave me a life doesn’t mean I want it? Or value it? Maybe God values it? But why should i prioritise God’s feelings? because He’ll punish me if i don’t?

it’s just might = right isn’t it. only God’s feelings matter bc He is the one with all the power. and apparently my feelings are irrelevant

[dukeoftheblackstar]

@daimyosprincess Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch [affectionately].

You know I love filth but I wanna highlight the best parts that I adored in this read because omg, girl why you gotta all me out with so much old man knee and old man references like, babeeeeeeeeeeeeee I die, okay? ILY ♥

So. Okay.

I really love the intro mainly because it tempers your mood to calm tf down before the dicking starts happening, you know? I also love, LOVE, the ex-boyfriend detail because it's such a nice treat to always see certain variation of how things unfold. Because you could have just written straight up flirty reader and Boba and we're set, but I'm really a sucker for side stories or however you want to call it.

I love the smut, so much. So damn much. But I just wanna point out these two really sweet side story/origin story something whatever treats for me ♥

Another banger, Zwei ♥

All in all though, you can’t complain. You live in their spacious, boomer-bought house rent-free and enjoy a home-cooked meal every night; you have your mom to dote on you when you get sick and your dad to defrost your car in the cold winter mornings.

This is such an adorable concept for an introduction because I wouldn't have thought it was gonna happen at the parents' place. That's such an original thought and super cute. Eep! I love this!

The fact that he’s somehow a perfect gentleman to you while simultaneously being the most incorrigible flirt that ever lived hasn’t helped in the least.

What a fuckin' dick. SO PROUD OF YOU MY BOYS. MAKE THAT GIRL WET.

Boba Fett is going to fix that.

Move over, Bob the fucking builder. Boba's in town. ♥

you look sweet enough to eat. And lick. And suck. And-

If you ain't looking this delectable, what tf is you doing with your life, sissy? ♥ Baby girl knows what's up!

The only thing that keeps you from sneaking in a quickie with your hand clamped over your mouth so his name doesn’t spill out is the chance to have him do all those things to you for real.

Zweiiiii, STOP CALLING US OUT THIS EARLYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!

Boba arrives to finish whatever project your parents told you about. Railings? Pool pump? Painting? Doesn’t matter. 

This is making me laugh so ungodly because I swear. I fucking SWEAR. This is everyone reading every Boba Fett fic. He be doing the silliest, stupidiest shit, it's IRRELEVANT.

Boba can literally fuck up my house, shoot me with a nailgun, or even overcharge me for not doing shit. As long as I'm getting dicked tonight, is all good bby ♥

I SHOULDN'T BE SAYING THIS BECAUSE THE JANGO ON MY SHOULDER DISAPPROVES. BUT MY GOD, IS THIS SO DAMN RELATBEL BESTIE LIKE SHIT, U IS RIGHTEOUS MY SISTER IN CHRIST.

Before you can think better of it, you snatch down your panties and toss them over your shoulder with a grin.

MY GIRL.

Was it possible to be attracted to the way someone clenches their jaw?

I AM TAKING THIS PERSONALLY BECAUSE I HAVE A THING FOR KNEES OKAY. IF BOBA CLENCHES HIS JAW ALL SO SUGGESTIVELY THEN I WILL TAKE THIS AS PERMISSION SLIP TO BE HO OVER PLO KOON'S KNEES WHEN HE SITS WITH HIS KNEES APART OKAY. OKAY. YES. THEM JAWS. YUMYUM.

“See something you like, princess?”

Boba watches with an amused smile as you trot past him into the cool of the house, taking your unspoken invitation to stare at your ass as you do so.

I REPEAT. BOBA IS AN ASS MAN. ASS MAN I SAY!!!! JUST LIKE HIS GODDAMN DADDY.

“Lot of books you got there, princess. What are you in school for?”

EX-LIBRIS! EX-LIBRIS FLASHBACKS!!!!

“Hey… never apologize for your passion. Not many people have what you have, or the drive to go after it. That’s something to be proud of, sweetheart.”

OK, but here the dick tho, sir? WHERE?

He snatches up your hand in a tight grip. “Careful, princess,” Boba warns in a low, scraped voice. “Think very carefully about-” || “Sweetheart, I’m serious,” he shuts his eyes and exhales heavily. “Think about what you’re offering.”

I SEE WE DISRESPECTING THIS VERY RESPECTFUL MAN RIGHT HERE, ZWEII.

“Princess, baby, look at me.”

BABY GIRL. DEAREST BOBA FETT FIC QUEEN. MA'AM. IF YOU. OMG. IF YOU SO. HNNG IF YOU SO EVER. JUST. OMG. LIKE IDK. IF YOU PUT THINGS THEN 'BABY' IN IT? I AM DEAD, LIKE HSDJSKDJASLKDHKASHFKDNF;RJGLKND,VMS,DMFS.

Damn him and his honorable ways.

DAMN RIGHT.

“Are you worried that I won’t be able to make you scream and shake when I lick and stroke your perfect little pussy? Hmm? Babygirl, don’t you worry one bit. I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna make you feel so amazing you’re not going to be able to sit out here ever again without remembering how I made you cry with how good it feels.”

THE HONOR HAS BEEN STRIPPED IN LESS THAN .5 SECONDS OH MY GOD. SUCH WHORES.

Your crappy college boyfriend never made you want anything remotely like what Boba’s saying.

I'm such a sucker for backstories and little 'non-essential' details because it's such a power move to unearth those little things. And for clarity, when I say 'non-essential', something that could have been omitted or no longer expounded on but they're really interesting — though not for everyone. But I love them. Genuinely love the little 'fillers' and such.

I have I didn't fuck up how to explain that but I mean it in a way that's not offensive or downplaying it, but more of the not so big big details — I'm just gonna shut up now LOL.

“My knees aren’t what they used to be.” 

Claiming this for my personal satisfaction over my knee obsession ♥

“Now I think we both know you never had any intention of studying when you planted your cute little ass on this couch.” || “I h-have all my stuff out here, see?” || “Though really, the fact you didn’t turn a single page the entire time you were out here would have clued me in regardless.”

EEP! It's so playful I DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

“Aw, you’re sweet to flatter an old man. Now how about you sit up on those knees so I can taste every inch of your pretty pussy?”

SO MUCH KNEE TALK MA'AM. WHY IS THERE NO WARNING FOR THIS??!??!?!

“Good. Now start playing with those perfect fucking tits, give me a good show.” 

I SCREAM. AS IF I HAVE NOT SCREAMED OVER THE HAPPENING PRIOR TO THEM TIT PLAY. BOBA, MY SON, YOU PUSSY EATING CHAMP. MAKE DADDY PROUD ♥

“That’s my good girl. Now stuff your dress in your mouth because I’m going to make you scream loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”

Polite neighbor vibes ♥

“See all this, s-sweetheart? See how much a real man c-can make you come?”

BOY SO COCKYYYYYYYY.

OH MY GOD. YOUR EXBOYFRIEND IS A DOUCHEBAG, OKAY? OMGGG??? LIKE FOR REAL??? I WILL THROW HANDS, OKAY?????

But like in all seriousness, this is one of the trope that I adoreeeeeeeeeee okay, cause it's the after sex, after fun, after all the highs and now the lows. The 'where do we go from here' or the 'let's just get this over with' trope and omg ma'am? I am in loveeeeee!

But before you can get too cheeky, he swats your ass with a smirk. “Dirty girl, aren’t you? I’m old enough to be your father, you know.” 

“Ah, well, the younger ones never did it for me anyways. I’ve always wanted a man with some… experience in getting me wet.”

MOOTS REPRESENTTTT.

“Because, princess,” he murmurs sinfully into your ear, nipping at the tender spot behind it, “I want something to remember you by tonight. Wanna smell that sweet little cunt while I tug on my cock and think about you coming in my mouth. And on my cock. And all over me.”

When he finally extricates himself from your feeble attempt to lock him in your arms, he tucks your dress into his belt with a wink. “For safekeeping,” he assures you.

Gentle reminder that if you can't find that slut dress that made you a slut, it's here, babe. Riiiiight here ♥

AN HONEST DAY'S WORK

—PAIRING: Contractor!Boba Fett x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: You have a very special project you want your parents’ contractor, Boba Fett, to work on.

—WORD COUNT: 9k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, age gap relationship (reader is an adult), Boba is a dirty old man and doesn’t mind saying so 😈, likely an excessive use of pet names by yours truly, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), squirting, cum eating, soft Boba 🥹, mentions of a shitty ex

Please let me know if I missed anything!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you @baufraus for slapping a tool belt on that old man, you’re doing the lord’s work 😌 Enjoy besties 💖

Divider by the @saradika

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

What a pleasant thing to be woken up by your alarm, you think, stretching out in a luxurious full body stretch under your flowery covers. After a month and a half of what felt like constant construction right outside your window, waking to your buzzing alarm was a welcome relief from the jagged sounds of powertools and hard machinery. 

While you love your parents dearly, their desire to turn the backyard of your childhood home into a suburban oasis has been a less than pleasant experience for you. They certainly deserved to enjoy their retirement after putting you and your siblings through school, but the necessity of such renovations during your last year of your masters was dubious to you at best.

All in all though, you can’t complain. You live in their spacious, boomer-bought house rent-free and enjoy a home-cooked meal every night; you have your mom to dote on you when you get sick and your dad to defrost your car in the cold winter mornings. Even with the long hours of inescapable noise and constant stream of people in and around the house, you’re grateful to be there. And, if you’re completely honest, you’re also extremely grateful for the unexpected front row seat to watch the handsome contractor heading the whole operation. 

Boba Fett hasn’t left your thoughts since the day he arrived at your front door dressed in khaki cargo pants, a form fitting t-shirt, and a tool belt slung low across his hips. His perfect white smile and smoldering dark eyes left you speechless then and have continued to bedevil you ever since, winding your insides (and panties) into knots. The fact that he’s somehow a perfect gentleman to you while simultaneously being the most incorrigible flirt that ever lived hasn’t helped in the least. Between his sparkling winks, dazzling smile, and delicious voice calling you “princess” and “sweetheart,” you haven’t known a moment’s peace—even when the crew finally went home in the evenings.

It’s all enough to drive you totally insane.

Lucky for him, however, it hasn’t. Staring up at the familiar ceiling above you, you smile: today is the day you will finally have your revenge. The contractor had teased and poked at you for weeks and you’d been powerless to do anything more than glower and huff at him due to the constant company of your parents and his crew. But now you have him all to yourself for an entire day with the house to yourself and his workers off—and you have no intention of showing him any mercy.

It’s been nearly two years since you’ve had anything close to what one could consider “action.” Between school and your research fellowship, you haven’t had any time to go to parties or bars or wherever adults are supposed to meet people to do it with. No, for two long years, it has been you and your vibrator against the world. 

Boba Fett is going to fix that.

After a quick shower and a punched-up version of your morning routine, you’re almost ready to set your plan into motion. Flicking through your closet, you decide on your favorite floral sundress with a pair of cute sandals. Now dressed, you smooth your hands down the light fabric, smiling at your reflection in the mirror; you look sweet enough to eat. And lick. And suck. And-

Heat flares in your belly at the thought of Boba’s large, work-rough hands pulling up the hem of your dress to kiss up your soft thighs, his tongue spelling out all the dirty, awful things he wants to do to you in your parents’ own home… his lips wrapping around that desperate, aching spot between your legs and making that burning need finally go away in an explosion of pent-up pleasure.

Fuck. You bite down hard on your lip to stop from hopping back beneath your covers and touching yourself to the rest of that particular fantasy. The only thing that keeps you from sneaking in a quickie with your hand clamped over your mouth so his name doesn’t spill out is the chance to have him do all those things to you for real.

Taking a deep breath, you push away your lewd imaginings and check your phone. You have just enough time to grab your books and position yourself on the deck before Boba arrives to finish whatever project your parents told you about. Railings? Pool pump? Painting? Doesn’t matter. 

With one last check in the mirror, you hurry towards your bedroom door only to stop short a second later. Before you can think better of it, you snatch down your panties and toss them over your shoulder with a grin.

Chancing a glance over the top of your unread book, you spy Boba leaning across a board and marking it with a flat drafting pencil. The suggestive slant of his hips and the sheen of perspiration on his brow made a slew of very suggestive images flood your brain. Was it possible to be attracted to the way someone clenches their jaw?

Boba had to be showing off. There’s simply no explanation for why he needed to carry that much lumber on his shoulder or measure that many things high enough for his gray t-shirt to ride up and reveal a tempting peek at the dark trail of hair leading into his jeans. And since when did there need to be so much drilling? He is sorely beating you at your own game, and that simply would not do—not when you need him so bad you’re scheming and panty-less in your parents’ backyard. 

“See something you like, princess?”

Kark. Shaking your head, you blink your eyes like you’ve been caught deep into your reading. “Oh, sorry, did you say something?”

He straightens, arching a brow as he dusts himself off. As you follow his hands across his strong torso and thighs you realize too late that your eyes have wandered to his crotch. Smirking, Boba runs a palm over his face to wipe away the sweat there. “Never mind that,” he chuckles, “Could I interrupt your ‘study session’ for something to drink?”

The audacity of this man! Scoffing at your (admittedly weak) attempt at school work like he hasn’t been putting on a show himself for the past hour and a half.

You’re not going to let yourself be beat at your own game. Plastering on a big smile, you answer in a honey-sweet voice. “Actually, my mom made some sandwiches and lemonade since you had to come by on your day off. Why don’t you freshen up and take a seat over here,” you motion to the couch across from you, “and I’ll be out with lunch in a couple minutes.” 

Boba watches with an amused smile as you trot past him into the cool of the house, taking your unspoken invitation to stare at your ass as you do so. When you re-emerge a few minutes later with the promised food and drink, he’s spread out over the couch with a fresh shirt on and looking every bit as regal as a king on a throne. You suppose it’s only fitting that he calls you his princess when he thanks you for bringing out the meal.

Picking up a sandwich, Boba nods to your stack of readings on the side table. “Lot of books you got there, princess. What are you in school for?”

You’re ready to give him some giggly, flippant reply but the genuine look of interest on his face stops you. For a stricken second you’re tongue tied by the thought of your parents’ hot contractor being genuinely interested in you as a person. Shimmering, unbidden fantasies float through your mind of Boba pulling out your chair for you on a date, the two of you sitting around a bonfire with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, him kissing the top of your head as he leaves for work in the morning. The images curl through the heat of your desire for him, mixing with the safe warmth and happiness he brings you.

Maybe…

You quickly scramble to answer before your imagination can run rampant and put dangerous thoughts of something more with him into your head. 

“Speech-language pathology and therapy. Originally I was doing special education but then I really enjoyed my communicative disorders class, so my professor helped me apply to an internship program that convinced me to change my concentration. I even got into the fellowship program in the speech lab at St. Mary’s this semester and-” 

You look up to see Boba staring at you so fondly that it makes your chest ache and your words evaporate into flushed smoke. “Oh, u-um, sorry, you probably didn’t want to hear all that… basically, I’m studying ways to help people speak easier.” You take a long sip of lemonade to avoid saying anything else, mentally kicking yourself to get it together. You have a plan and you need to stick to it, no matter how tingly and fuzzy he makes your heart feel.

The couch creaks as Boba shifts forward to rest his forearms on his knees so he can meet your downcast eyes. “Hey… never apologize for your passion. Not many people have what you have, or the drive to go after it. That’s something to be proud of, sweetheart.”

That same warm, shimmery feeling from before returns and you smile at him. “Thanks,” you murmur, wondering if it’s normal for his tenderness to make you want to get in his pants even more. You don’t care either way. Clearing your throat, you roll back your shoulders and lean back against the plump cushions. “Well I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got any more, uh, “measuring” to do.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he winks.

“Right.” He nods to his cleared plate. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Of course,” you assure him, “gotta make sure you keep your strength up for any… activities you might get up to.”

Boba laughs rich and deep as he pushes up from the couch. “You really are too good to me, princess.”

If only he knew just how good I can be.

The following hour passes in pleasant, if sexually charged, silence as both of you vie to make the other crack first. When he lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, revealing the thick wall of muscle and softer belly underneath, you finally decide enough is enough. If he’s playing dirty, you will too.

Reaching your arms above your head, you stretch and let out a suggestive groan that has Boba’s head snapping towards you. Of course, you pretend you don’t notice and continue your stretch, leisurely easing out your legs to their full length. With his eyes boring into you, you purposefully slide your knees up the couch cushions so the hem of your flowy dress rides dangerously high up your thighs. You can physically feel the tables turning in your favor, upper hand slipping from him to you in this one powerful, heady moment.

Tilting your head back to meet his burning gaze, you savor the feeling, watching through your lashes as his breath stutters in his chest. Then, taking your lip between your teeth, you slowly open your thighs, one, then the other, to reveal the glistening folds hidden between them.

For a brief second, it seems like he’s going to snap the board in his hands with the way his muscles strain against his shirt. When you moan a quiet little sound as you stretch again, he slams the wood down and stalks over you with his fists clenching.

Blinking up at him with siren eyes, you give him a sultry smile. “See something you like, handsome?” you mimic, reaching out to drag your fingers down his arm. 

He snatches up your hand in a tight grip. “Careful, princess,” Boba warns in a low, scraped voice. “Think very carefully about-”

Before you can chicken out, you flip the front of your dress above your waist with your free hand. “About this?” 

Boba sucks in a sharp breath and stares for a long second, the muscles in his jaw working in tight feathers before he yanks your dress back down over your legs. “Sweetheart, I’m serious,” he shuts his eyes and exhales heavily. “Think about what you’re offering.”

As if you haven’t thought about this very thing for weeks on end, writhing and panting to the thought of Boba Fett doing every dirty thing to you that you could come up with. No, if anything, you need to stop thinking and start feeling everything your wicked thoughts had conjured up about this man.

“Boba, please,” you whine, the feel of his hand on your skin making your voice desperate, “I’m sure, I’m so, so sure I swear.” His grip tightens and you can sense he’s waiting to hear for something more concrete. “I’ve thought about you every day, every night… I want you, Boba. Please.”

“Fuck, sweetheart…” His skin burns against yours and he curses again, dropping your wrist and coming to his knees in front of you. “Tell me then,” he grunts, bracing himself between your thighs, “tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” 

Pure, molten want burns in his eyes, igniting the desperate tinder of your desire. What didn’t you want him to do? You’ve dreamed about him taking you every possible way in every possible place, groaning your name and screwing you senseless. What could you say when you want everything he’ll give you? 

Luckily, your tongue has the answer your brain does not. “Kiss me,” you gasp, “Please kriffing kiss me.” 

And like he’d been waiting his entire life to hear you say those very words, he’s on you, pushing you back against the pillows and crashing his perfect lips against yours in a scorching fury. Your body welcomes his intensity, instinctually shaping itself around his strong hips and wide shoulders as you claw at him to get closer. Fuck, you’re already greedy for him, your skin thirsting for his and your pussy soaking your dress beneath it.

“W-wait,” you gasp, hating the way he immediately recoils even as you appreciate his caution. You don’t want to give Boba any reason to stop but you don’t want to embarrass yourself in the heat of things either. “I’ve never, um, well… I’ve never had… never with someone else.” You wince; your words sound even worse than they did tripping through your head. Anxiety pricks your heated skin—you want to bury yourself into his shirt and hide there forever.

Why did you bring this up? You should’ve just gone with it like before.

When he speaks, Boba’s voice is the softest it’s ever been. “Princess, baby, look at me.” He rolls the both of you up to a sitting position, giving you just enough space to pull away if you needed to while still being close. Gently taking one of your clenched fists into his large hand, he smooths your fingers out, rubbing soothing circles into your palm with his thumb.��

You sneak a peek at him. Gone is the hot fervor of passion that previously colored his features; now he’s a softer shade that beckons you into his comfort. 

“There she is,” he smiles, rewarding you with his own when you force your face up to his. The urgent tear of worry in your chest eases and you melt into his side. “Now, how about you tell me what’s bothering you, hmm?” 

“Really, it’s nothing,” you try, knowing it won’t work as soon as you say it. All you want to do is go back to him kissing the air out of your lungs and to have his fingers brushing over your soaked slit, but Boba isn’t going to let you off the hook. 

Damn him and his honorable ways.

Boba sighs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Nice try, sweetheart.” He lays his cheek on top of your head and wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a comforting squeeze. “Listen, if all this is happening too fast, if you want to stop here, we can. I won’t be mad, baby. Your first time should be with someone special, and if that’s not me then that’s alright.”

First time? Realization dawns on you a second later and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from your belly. Giggling, you arch up and give the confused man next to you a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you, Boba, really. But that’s not what I meant.” A new kind of nervousness pools in your gut now, one that swirls with hot anticipation rather than cold dread. 

Grabbing his free hand for support, you look into the warm depth of his eyes as his fingers curl around yours. “What I was trying to say was that… well, that no one else has ever made me come before. I’ve made myself come plenty of times but,” yikes, did you have to say that?, “I’ve only been with one other guy and he never made me… I mean, I got close one time but he never actually made me finish.”

The concerned look on Boba’s face melts into a glorious laugh that rumbles your chest. Before you know it, you’re both laughing and kissing in between delighted gasps for air. A bright sense of joy permeates every cell in your body and you tuck it safely inside your heart. If this was your first time, you know that you’d want it to be with him. Maybe you’ll pretend this is your first time.

“Oh, sweetheart, is that what you’re worried about?” he finally sighs, his warm breath tickling your neck. You nod against him.

In one quick motion, Boba scoops you up into his lap, wrapping his arms around you to grab your ass through your dress. “Are you worried that I won’t be able to make you scream and shake when I lick and stroke your perfect little pussy? Hmm?” He groans into your ear when you shiver against him. “Babygirl, don’t you worry one bit. I’m gonna take care of you, I’m gonna make you feel so amazing you’re not going to be able to sit out here ever again without remembering how I made you cry with how good it feels.”

This time, you’re the one who slams your lips against his, stealing whatever dark, sweet words he had left from his tongue. You mewl into his open mouth as he rocks your bare core over the thick denim straining over his erection. The seam of his jeans catches your clit perfectly and you would have cried out loud enough for the neighbors three houses down to hear if Boba hadn’t held your face against his.

“Easy there, beautiful,” Boba chuckles, “we don’t need everyone knowing what we’re up to, not till we’re done anyways, yeah?” You hum in agreement and bury your face into his shoulder, inhaling his clean smell and the surprisingly attractive scent of a day’s work clinging to his skin. “Now, tell me about this boy before, did he make you feel good? Make you want to flash your bare cunt to him and beg him to take you where anyone could walk around and see?”

Your crappy college boyfriend never made you want anything remotely like what Boba’s saying. The only thing he ever made you want was for him to hurry up so you could go in the bathroom and finish yourself off. He had been nice enough, but, nice enough didn’t make your eyes cross and pussy wet. “He never, shit, he never…” you gasp as Boba grinds you harder against himself, “I had to beg him to eat me out and even then he complained about it every time.”

“Complained? Kark, princess, tasting you is all I’ve been able to think about for a month. In fact,” Boba grins wickedly, “I’d like to solve that problem right now, with your permission, of course.” His tongue flicks out to wet his lips like he’s preparing to enjoy the best meal of his life.

You can’t give him your permission fast enough.

Reaching behind his back, Boba tosses one of the decorative pillows from the couch onto the deck and slides down to kneel on it in front of you. “Why don’t you hand me another one of those,” he flashes you a smile and a wink, “My knees aren’t what they used to be.” 

“They didn’t seem to be a problem when you were putting on a show for me earlier,” you snark back, rolling your eyes for extra effect. “I hardly got any reading done with your whole construction worker performance going on.”

Boba tosses his head back and laughs a deep belly laugh that makes you glow for being its source. Grabbing your hips, he yanks you to the edge of the couch, making you squeal. “Now I think we both know you never had any intention of studying when you planted your cute little ass on this couch.” He leans in, inching your dress up so he can brush his lips over the ticklish skin just above your knees.

“Wh-What are you talking about?” Your lashes flutter shut and you dig your nails into the cushions to keep your composure as Boba begins to pepper kisses up your thighs while his hands massaged what his mouth wasn’t on. “I h-have all my stuff out here, see?” 

Of course, your handsome contractor is exactly right but you’re not going to admit that.

Licking a stripe mere centimeters from where you want him most, Boba huffs a laugh into your damp skin. “All props, sweetheart. Your dress and flirty little smile gave it all away.” His hands travel to the back of your hips where he spreads them wide so you arch against him, bringing the top of your pelvic bone right to his mouth. “Though really, the fact you didn’t turn a single page the entire time you were out here would have clued me in regardless.”

Boba’s words feel like they’re coming through a wall of thick molasses, heavy and sweet as they are to your ears. All you can focus on is the heat of his breath whispering across the wetness he caused and how his lips feel ghosting against your soft flesh as he speaks. Kark, how are you supposed to think with him like this, kneeling for the very opportunity to put his mouth where you’ve dreamed it would be so many times? All that time trembling, aching, yearning for him and he was finally yours—at least for now—and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

You bunch up the material of your dress in a fist and force your hazy eyes to focus on him. “Either way, it got me what I truly wanted,” you smile affectionately, “You.” 

An emotion flashes across Boba’s sun-bronzed face so quickly it feels like a secret to have seen it, something deep and tender, petal-soft and just as vulnerable. Something words couldn’t quite express and certainly not something he wanted to be seen. It made him feel so frighteningly human that you want to bury him in your chest and murmur all lovely things he makes you feel until he feels safe enough to let that emotion out of its closely guarded cage.

A second later, however, his usual cocksure expression is back in place. “Aw, you’re sweet to flatter an old man. Now how about you sit up on those knees so I can taste every inch of your pretty pussy?”

You couldn’t have refused his request even if it wasn’t the hottest thing you ever heard, not with the way you’re so agonizingly ready that you’re literally dripping with arousal. “Boba, please. Need your-ooohh!” A searing shock of pleasure ricochets up your spine as his tongue swipes through the web of slick pooled in your slit. 

Your intense reaction spurs Boba on and he immediately dives into your core, jamming his face between your legs and groaning loudly as he inhales your scent. “Sweet as fucking cherry pie, baby. Shit, come here,” he growls, yanking you down so nearly your full weight is on his face. “I want you down my damn throat, you’re so delicious. Better than anything I’ve ever had.”

You wish you could open your scrunched eyes to see the expression that matches his blissed out tone, but it’s impossible with the way his tongue is flicking through folds as he sucks up every drop of your slick like he needs it to live. Heat pumps through your veins, lighting you up until you’re sure you could replace the sun. In less than thirty seconds, Boba has made you feel more beautiful, more cherished than you ever felt in your entire life.

As your knees begin to buckle from the luscious intensity of his mouth, Boba tosses your right leg over his shoulder, balancing you across his face and giving him the perfect opportunity to flatten his tongue against your clit. You have to slap a hand across your mouth to keep from screaming when he starts a pace that has you riding his face with fervent abandon, your hand dropping your dress to clutch at the back of his skull for more pressure.

Boba moans and scrapes his teeth over your clit, making you squeal and jolt at the sharp sensation. “Fucking hell, girl, you really are dirty, aren’t you? I never should have waited to get my mouth on you. Lay down for me, I wanna feel that tight cunt squeezing my fingers while you make a mess on my face.”

As much as you don’t want to part with his mouth, the temptation to feel him stretching you out on his thick fingers, stroking all the places your own can’t reach, is too great to resist. Scrambling back onto the couch, you tuck yourself into the corner to give him the maximum amount of access to your trembling body. 

Boba grins up at you, his face up to his eyes shiny with your slick. “Howya feeling, sweetheart? Ready for me to make you see stars?”

In response, you just toss the fabric of your dress over your shoulder and roll your hips forward.

Boba was a man of his word, bringing you to the edge of orgasm once with mouth and hands then once more with his cock as took you from behind—you’re in actual tears with how good every single one of his movements feel. Every drag of his cock is pure pleasure, every touch of his hands delicious delight, and every kiss is incandescent bliss. You’re never going to be the same again.

“Oh, my filthy little girl,” he taunts, grabbing a handful of your tits as he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, “what would your parents think, hmm? What would they do if they knew you let an old man bend you over the table they’ll eat off of? That you’re bouncing on his dick and begging him for more on their couch?”

“Oh, fuck! Boba!” A wave of liquid arousal floods your core, make the sound of him fucking into you even wetter. 

“Yeah? You like it when I talk like that, sweetheart? You like knowing that I’m going to own every part of you then send you back to them with a smile on my face and your cum leaking down my cock?”

Every single one of his sex-stained words sear into your skin, going straight to your throbbing clit. Every beat of your pounding heart brings you closer and closer to the bright brink of orgasm, every roll of his hips thrusting his length into that perfect spot inside you. Fuck he’s going to make me come if he keeps… fuck!

“Kark, baby, I can feel you squeezing me with that perfect tight cunt. Shit, you’re so-”

You can’t take it anymore. Falling forward onto his heaving chest, you dig your nails into the thick muscle there and start grinding your aching clit against him like some feral animal chasing their heat. 

Faster, harder, faster, fuck! Just like that, juuuust like that and you’ll feel that perfect fucking release, just a little more and…

Boba stills his bucking hips and halts your rocking.

You howl, clawing at his unmoving body. “No, please!” you sob, “I’m so close, please don’t stop now!”

Boba shushes you with the press of his mouth. “Shh, you’ll get what you want, baby, I promise you. But if I'm gonna be the first man to make you come, I’m gonna make it much more memorable than that was going to be.”

The thought of anything more than the building pleasure thrashing in core was unimaginable. How on earth could it be better than him balls deep inside you hitting your g-spot like it’s what he was made for? Never in your wildest dreams had you felt this good, even when you had hours alone to tease yourself before riding out the wave of your orgasm. If there was anything greater than this pleasure you’re not sure you would survive it—not with your mind intact, anyways.

Sliding his hands under your slicked thighs, Boba swings his legs off the couch and stands with a huff, keeping himself sheathed inside you. You grind into the fabric of his shirt until gives your ass a firm swat and you a stern warning to behave, which you’re too desperate to test. He walks the pair of you over to the large, oak table and plops you on top of it. The rich grain is supple and smooth on your bare skin, and Boba eases your back flat against it as he kisses and gropes across your body.

“Alright, princess,” he pulls away slightly to rest his damp forehead on yours, “I need you to do something for me, okay?”

Brushing your hands down his neck and shoulders, you’d promise him anything he asked. “O-okay, Boba.”

He peppers a few kisses on your tear-stained cheeks before continuing, letting his hips rut into you at an agonizingly slow pace. “When I tell you to, I want you to release all your muscles and completely let go. Don’t hold anything in, alright, babygirl?”

You’re not sure where he’s leading you but you have complete faith in the fact that it’s going to be mind blowing. You give him your affirmation and he presses a small kiss on your lips.

“Good. Now start playing with those perfect fucking tits, give me a good show.” 

You’re in such a hurry to comply that you get frustrated by the straps of your dress and bra, to which Boba chuckles and makes quick work of them, dragging the material down until your chest was bared for his mouth to claim. He curses when you press the soft flesh of your breasts together, moaning when your fingers brush over your pert nipples. For a minute he just watches you revel in the pleasure of your own hands, fucking yourself shallowly on him as you pluck and caress the sensitive skin beneath your fingers. 

Boba is a man entranced, his dark eyes glassy with want. Under his reverential gaze, you feel so desired, so utterly divine, like you’re his own personal goddess—he stares down at you as your most pious devotee who longs for nothing more than to feel the blessing of your body and the joy of your bliss.

“Boba…” you whisper duskily. He leans into your outstretched hand and you pull him into your arms with a crushing kiss.

As if he can read exactly what you need, he hikes your leg over his hip and begins a pace of snapping thrusts that has your entire body bouncing with their bruising force. “Pretty baby, precious girl, I’m going to make you feel so fucking good,” he pants into your neck, pressing his lips there to taste the salt of your skin, “Been dying to take care of you like this, sweetheart. Watching you work so hard, leaving early and coming back late… you’re such a good little girl, aren’t you?”

With the way he’s hitting every single sweet spot that makes you feel like a woman, all you can manage is a breathy affirmative and a few warbling words. “Y-yes, Boba, w-wanted you s-so bad. Thought-thought about you every n-night. Ohhhh fuck!”

 Boba lifts your hips and guides your legs to lock around him, giving him a mind-shattering angle as he drives into your wet heat. After swallowing down your cries of pleasure with a searing kiss, he wraps his large hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he continues. 

“So loud, aren’t you, princess? No, I like that, I like hearing how good I make you feel, like knowing I’m the only one who has you making these sweet fucking sounds.” Leaning back, he trails his free hand up your calf, letting it follow the curve of your thigh and giving your ass a smack that makes your eyes roll back. “Because I’m the only one who makes you feel like this, the only one who can make this perfect pussy soak and come. You just needed a real man to give you what you needed, huh, sweetheart? Come on, answer me and I’ll make you scream.”

Every nerve in your body is lighting up, every neuron in your brain firing with blinding pleasure. The voice that claws its way from your throat is wrecked and ragged, gasping and begging for more, more, more. The heat and pressure building in your core is volcanic, and you absolutely need it to burn you alive. Only then could you shed the weight of everything that came before and become the beautiful thing Boba is crafting with every sinful word and scalding caress.

“That’s it, just like that, pretty baby,” Boba grunts in praise when you start chasing his thrusts with your own. “Take what you need, what you deserve. Use my cock… I’m all yours, all fucking yours, princess.”

You can’t see him behind your scrunched eyelids, but you can hear the sincerity laced through his words like a shining vein of shimmering gold. The images of him wrapping his arm around you at campfire, settling you into your chair on a date come flashing back, play across your mind with such visceral clarity you could almost reach out and touch them. There was so much warmth to this man, so much untapped softness and care underneath his rough-hewn exterior that you want so karking bad you can taste it hot on your tongue. You want him loving you, fucking you, caring for you every single day from now until forever. Most urgently, however, you want him to mark your very soul with his in an orgasm so intense you leave your body.

“B-boba, Boba, please! I’m so close, I-I want you so bad! Please!” you beg between his fingers over your mouth as your hands paw at his sweat-slicked skin. 

“I got you, babygirl, I got you. Come here.” Boba crushes his mouth against yours, licking your taste onto his tongue with a moan. When he finally breaks your kiss, his cheeks are flushed with carnal color and his eyes are glazed with devoted fervor. “Remember what I said before, sweetheart? About letting go, releasing all your muscles?” 

You bob your head, biting into your lip to keep your focus on his face. 

“Good. I’m going to count down from ten then I want you to do just that, okay? Can you do that for me? Let me hear you say you understand.”

As if you wouldn’t kiss the very ground he walks on with how good he’s making you feel. “I-I understand.”

He beams at you, a diamond drop of sweat rolling down his brow. “That’s my good girl. Now stuff your dress in your mouth because I’m going to make you scream loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.”

Burning ecstasy explodes inside you, snapping your muscles taunt and clamping down on the thick length rocking into you. How can you possibly feel this good, this fucking amazing and you’re not even coming yet? You don’t even remember where you are at this point, only that Boba’s on top of you and his dick’s inside you.

Gagged and bleary-eyed with tears, you arch into his touch when his calloused fingertips find your pulsing clit.

“Ten. Nine. Eight.” Boba’s fingers slide back and forth across your sopping folds with delicious speed, the pressure of his hand singing the glorious feeling into your bones.

“Seven. Six. Five.” His angle changes just slightly so his thrusts aim up towards your belly. Tears run down your temples into your hair and you know you have to be screaming around your spit-soaked dress.

“Four… three…” 

Stars begin to explode in cataclysmic bursts of light as everything in your body tightens into a ball of pure energy. If you could think beyond the primal sensation you would worry that you might literally die with how hard your heart is thundering in your chest.

Boba presses a hand on your lower tummy and everything snaps into stark relief: you can feel every cell in your body, every atom of being as all the light inside you floods to core. 

“Two…” His voice is sabled sin, luscious smoke dripping onto your burning skin in hot, fat drops. “One. Let go, baby, let go of everything.” 

His thrusts, his fingers, his hand pressing into you, everything melts into one caldecent elixir that pours directly into your deepest parts and washes you down to your most tender parts. Then, just when you thought you couldn’t feel anything more, the final dam inside you breaks. Liquid heat washes through you, roaring through your body with all the force of every desire you’ve ever had being met in one singular, perfect moment.

 The waves crashing into you feel so real that it feels like you're soaking through your skin into a puddle of your own arousal.

“Oh, fuuuuck, princess, that’s it…” Boba’s voice strains through clenched teeth and torrid control, the last shreds clinging just barely to his skin. “Fuck yes, you’re f-fucking soaking me, I can’t-shit-I c-can’t… baby, princess, beautiful girl…” 

Your whole world is so soft and warm and full of him that you can’t think a mortal thought, but you know that you have to see the look on his face as he pants and karking whines as his thrusts dissolve into sloppy rutting. With the last of your remaining strength, you peel your wet lashes apart as you shakily tilt your head up. Everything is blurry and rose-hued, and… wet? You try to blink away the clouds in your vision but the bright sheen coating everything below your waist doesn’t disappear.

Seeing your confusion, Boba breaks out into a devilish grin that turns up his flushed cheeks. “See all this, s-sweetheart? See how much a real man c-can make you come?” he puffs out, breaking your gaze to drop his chin to chest. His brows knit together in concentration as if he’s hanging on the very last sliver of restraint. 

You can only watch in downey bliss as he scrapes his hand down your belly to swipe his fingers through the wet rivulets trailing down your thighs, transfixed as he brings them dripping to his swollen lips. When the first finger disappears into his mouth, his eyes roll back and his dick throbs inside your ruined pussy. Realization slams into you watching him lap your juice from his palm like sweet nectar, his arms and shirt damply glinting in the sunlight.

I did that, I made him… holy fucking shit did I-

“Fucking hell, babygirl, I want you to squirt all over me every single kriffing day until I die,” Boba hisses, his wrecked rasp one second away from cracking. “Look like a fucking queen, my queen, lying there s-soaked and gorgeous- aaaahh!”

The revelation that you came so hard on his thick, perfect cock that you blacked out a little and squirted to the point Boba was completely soaked, all on your parents’ dining table makes you sob in pleasure and bare down on him with another blinding orgasm. Your fingernails scrape across the wood grain as you flail mindlessly, your back arching up as your head slams back against the table. This climax isn’t as powerful as the first but it still slings you out into the stars, spinning and tumbling through an aurora of colors and light. 

The sudden emptiness of your cunt is replaced by hot ribbons slicing across your belly, pulling you out of the stars and back into your body. You’ve never had anyone come on you before—you had always insisted on a condom with your ex—and it feels impossibly erotic, almost degrading but in the best possible way; not like Boba didn’t care enough about you not to do it but that he was so out of his usually controlled mind with pleasure that he couldn’t help it. Pleasure that you brought him, pleasure he found in you.

You’re reaching for him, desperate to feel his skin, to know that all of this was real, that he wasn’t going to fade away into a dream. Boba leans forward catching himself on the edge of the table while he sucks in breath after shaky breath. He looks so beautiful fucked-out and soft, his usual sharp edges sanded down into a smooth sea glass that reveals a glimpse of his soul.

Eventually he stills and peeks up at you, watching you with adoring brown eyes. He whispers your name, warm and gentle, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He straightens up and reaches back to pull his t-shirt over his head to mop up your stomach and the liquid pooled between your thighs. His shoulders work in glorious exertion, and you watch in awe at the way his skin ripples with his silent strength. 

Finished, he tucks the garment under his arm and eases your dress from your mouth and rearranges it back over your body, murmuring to wait right there. As if you would want to be anywhere other than here with him.

Boba isn’t gone for long, reappearing at your side with a flannel and a water bottle. He’s wearing a white tank top that fits snugly over his broad chest in such a way that it makes you consider seducing him for another around—if you only had the energy to do so. He coos over you, softly instructing you to lift your arms so he can remove your ruined dress. You happily float along, allowing him to undress you and curl you against his chest on the couch with his flannel laid over you for comfort. It smells of him, rich and warm, and he presses the water bottle to your lips. After several greedy gulps, you pull back and tuck your face into his neck, humming with satisfaction.

The two of you doze for a lazy hour, wrapped up in each other while the afternoon breeze pleasantly tinkles the windchimes on the deck.

Eventually, though, you have to break to clean and reclothe yourself. When you amble back outside, Boba has finished wiping down the table with cleaner and a rag from his truck.

“There she is,” he grins, “how’s my pretty princess feeling?”

“Amazing… a little wobbly,” you add truthfully. You’re not sure if your bones will ever fully resolidify after this. Boba opens his arm and you press yourself against him, relishing his touch while you still have it. You don’t want to think about him leaving. “What about you?”

It’s like he can sense your unease and he pulls you closer, placing a kiss into your hair. “Never been better, you were… kriff, you were amazing, baby. Filthy, perfect, wet… and soft, so so soft,” he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist, “like you were made just for me.” 

He leans in to kiss you but stops when he sees the sullen look on your face. Cocking a brow, he lifts up your chin on two fingers. “What’s that look for?”

You can’t look at him. This is the part where he says goodbye and things go back to normal, where you part ways and pretend like this never happened. He’d be back day after day to finish the backyard, a sore reminder of what you desperately want but will never have. Why couldn’t you just let this be a fun fuck and let it go? Why did your heart have to ache for his?

“I-” you swallow the warble in your voice. “I, um… I don’t want to hold you up if you have another job or something after this.” You’re a big girl, you don’t need him to stay and prolong the inevitable—better to rip it off quick like a band-aid. You toss your head towards the table. “Thanks for cleaning up.”

Boba studies you silently, a frown shadowing his handsome features. Every second that passes with you in his arms has your resolve weakening more and more; too much longer and you’ll shatter against his chest.

“I don’t have anything after this…” He pauses, mulling over his words for a tense moment before continuing. “Is something wrong? Did I hurt you? Please, sweetheart, talk to me, if there’s anything I can do to-”

“No!” You break free from his embrace, hot tears of frustration beading behind your eyes. The last thing you want to do is hurt him but the longer he stays the more it’s going to tear you apart later. Boba steps back, giving you space and your heart twinges in your chest. “You’ve done nothing wrong, really. It’s just…” 

Blowing out a quivering sigh, you force yourself to look him in the eye—he at least deserves that. “It’s just that I don’t like this part, especially with how amazing and wonderful you were. You are. I think it’s just better if we don’t draw this out.” Once again, your eyes drop with the weight of the fast-approaching future.

The following silence is almost unbearably thick, the air congealing to a sodden, soupy haze in your lungs. How could this hurt this much already?

Boba rubs his fingers over his lips thoughtfully, his tan forehead creasing. “Princess… it’s better if we don’t draw ‘what’ out?”

Maker, he is really going to make you say it. No, it wasn’t enough to have made you come so hard you literally soaked the both of you, you have to admit you’re falling for a man twice your age that you’ve known for a month, too. It would be easier to make yourself hate him for that but you can’t bring yourself to confess and do that in the same breath. 

Folding your arms over your chest, you force your focus back on his face. “Boba, I… I know this was just for fun and I’m sorry for making this weird but it would be easier for me if we didn’t pretend this isn’t a goodbye. Like I feel nothing for you. Like you won’t show up here tomorrow like you didn’t fuck me right into my soul in my parents’ backyard.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your fingers curling into tight fists. “Please, just go.”

You can hear Boba shift and you crack open an eye to see him looking at you with longing deep enough to drown in. Finally, he says your name in a voice streaked with a vulnerable emotion you’d never seen him display. “Babygirl, I want you to listen to me, okay? I don’t know how that boy treated you before, but this was never a one time thing to me. I’m far too old to lay down with a woman I don’t intend on having by my side the next day, and all the days after that.” 

Hope seizes your chest as his words settle into you. 

Slowly he moves in front of you, taking your hands in his and gently rubbing them loose like he did before. “Now I’m no poet, sweetheart, I’m just a simple man making his way through life. I can’t make this sound as beautiful as you deserve, but I need you to know that I would never ever do anything to hurt you. I know it’s only been a month but kark, baby, I want you. I want to wake up to you in the mornings and hear your voice when I call you at lunch. I want to bring you tea while you study and make sure you don’t work yourself too hard. Most of all, though, my beautiful girl, I want you to be mine… because I’m already yours.”

The entire world shifts beneath your feet and you collapse into Boba’s waiting arms. When you bury your face into his shoulder, you pinch your thigh to make sure this was all still real. “D-do you,” your voice shakes, your joy threatening to overwhelm you, “do you really mean it?”

He kisses the top of your head and gingerly tilts your face up, caressing the swell of your cheek. “I’ve never been more serious, princess,” he smiles tenderly, “I want to make you mine. If you’ll have me, of course.”

You can’t help the choked laugh that burst from your chest. Pulling him closer, you meet his lips and throw everything you want to say into your kiss, sealing your sentiment into him with the press of your mouth. As much as you want to get lost in his sweet embrace, though, you break to give him an actual answer. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” you giggle breathlessly into him between more kisses. “In fact, I want you to make me yours over and over and over…”

But before you can get too cheeky, he swats your ass with a smirk. “Dirty girl, aren’t you? I’m old enough to be your father, you know.” 

“Ah, well, the younger ones never did it for me anyways. I’ve always wanted a man with some… experience in getting me wet.” You bite your lip playfully and wiggle your brows at him. Now that the oppressive cloud of doubt has lifted from your mind, you feel positively giddy.

Boba smacks your ass again making you squeal in surprised delight. “Now I want you to go upstairs, pick up that cute little dress you ruined, and bring it to me.”

Your breath catches at his dark, delicious tone and you blink up at him, confused—and definitely turned on. “W-Why?”

Boba spins you around to face the house then wraps an arm around your middle to pull you back against his rising chest. “Because, princess,” he murmurs sinfully into your ear, nipping at the tender spot behind it, “I want something to remember you by tonight. Wanna smell that sweet little cunt while I tug on my cock and think about you coming in my mouth. And on my cock. And all over me.”

His salacious request goes straight to your still-swollen clit and you scurry to your room before you can lose your nerve. When you return, you find him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and expression smug at your obedience. Where your desire to sass him might have been at such pompousness, however, is filled with warm bashfulness as you shuffle over to him. He stretches out the hand that had, until very recently, buried between your legs. Biting your lip, you suddenly can’t bring yourself to look at him as your cheeks burn with aroused embarrassment. 

“Ah ah ah, let me see those pretty eyes, sweetheart,” he tuts. “Let me see that sweet look on your face when you give me the dress I made you squirt all over.”

Heat scalds through you, your heart pumping hot desire into your veins as you drag your eyes to meet his dark ones. Boba takes the dress almost reverently from your hand then brings it up to face and inhales deeply, his eyelids fluttering shut. He groans into the material, desire scraping the sound raw. 

Fuck how are supposed to keep your hands off him long enough to get anything done ever again?

Before you have time to jump his bones, however, Boba’s phone rings loudly, making you jump. He huffs in annoyance and unhooks his phone from his toolbelt. “Sorry, princess, gotta take this.” 

He answers the call, but opens up his arm so you can lean against him. As he talks, his fingers trail up and down your hip, tracing absent-minded patterns that make you glow with affection. The way his body responds to yours, his subconscious little touches, they all confirm his declaration—you’re so happy you might float away if not for his hold on you. All your problems seem far away at the moment and you’re content to leave it that way, if just for now.

When Boba hangs up, he pulls you close to plant a kiss on your forehead. “That was another client of mine,” he explains with a sigh.

You pout. “So you have to go?” 

“Unfortunately.” Kissing you again, he swipes his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t have to, you know I’d much rather be with you. my pretty princess. Can I call you tonight?”

“Of course,” you smile. You enter your number into his phone and send yourself a text. “There. Now you’ll know it’s me.”

Looking down at the collection of suggestive emojis and hearts following your name, Boba lets out a hardy laugh. “As if I could ever forget you, sweetheart.” When he finally extricates himself from your feeble attempt to lock him in your arms, he tucks your dress into his belt with a wink. “For safekeeping,” he assures you.

Once he’s pulled away in his truck, you realize he left his flannel on the couch. Pulling it around your shoulders, you decide that if Boba could still put in an honest day’s work after fucking you senseless, then you could at least get some actual studying in. After all, your night is already booked.

[moonflowerdamie]

ok so i just watched volume 2. gonna tell you guys my thoughts because WHAT THE FUCK.

⚠️STRANGER THINGS V2 SPOILERS!!!!!⚠️

seriously. what. the fuck. did i just watch.

i have so many thoughts about ep 8 and 9 so i’m gonna try and condense them into lil sections for y’all so. here goes.

•brenner’s death•

-we were supposed to find it…sad? the death of the man who kidnapped and abused children for his own gain? yeah, nice fucking try duffers, with the ‘sad emotional music’. honestly i’m glad the fucker’s dead. one of the only good things to come out of vol 2.

•will and mike•

-i now understand why the duffers waited until after pride month to release the new eps because wtf??? they’ve built it up that will’s in love with mike the whole season (the whole damn show) and then he just…doesn’t say anything? sure he had that monologue where we all know he was talking about himself and not el but. he didn’t even come out to mike? or anybody for that matter. sure, the scene with jonathan is undeniable that jonny boy knows and accepts him and it was a really sweet scene, but it felt like a cop out. will didn’t ever actually confirm anything. fucking bullshit. william byers get behind me, i’ll protect you from the duffers this time.

•stancy•

-fuck ME i hated this storyline. i fucking HATED it. i’ve already spoken on here about why steve and nancy should never be romantic again, and the fact that the duffers tried to push that arc was bad enough but. also. did you guys clock how ooc steve was because of it??? like, he just starts spouting shit about wanting six kids and a perfect life to nancy, who just NEARLY DIED, and then does it again in the woods when robin runs off alone—completely ignoring her well-being and safety in favour of trying it on with nancy again. that’s so not the steve we know. the steve we know and love would never let robin run off alone, and he certainly wouldn’t be basically ambushing a girl with his fucking life plans that make no fucking sense. and if that all wasn’t bad enough, THE WHOLE PLOTLINE WAS IRRELEVANT ANYWAY. they don’t get together because nancy’s still with jonathan and it never gets addressed again. fucking idiotic storyline.

•jancy•

-ok so can we all agree that this ship has run its course? like, don’t get me wrong, they’ve been cute the past few seasons, and i wouldn’t hate it if they were endgame, but. come on. jonathan is STILL LYING TO HER about college, their plans clearly don’t align anymore and they just want different things in life. and i get it, it’s cute that the actors are dating in real life, but that shouldn’t be the only thing holding the ship together. i just think the duffers have made it clear throughout the season, then with that ending scene in vol 2 when jon and nancy are repairing hop’s cabin, that these two are going to inevitably part ways.

•jopper•

-one of the saving graces of these eps. they FINALLY kissed and it was sweet and cute and perfectly built up, in my opinion. joyce and hopper stay one of the best ships in the show.

•max•

-is she alive? is she dead? WHO KNOWS???!!? honestly the HORROR the duffers have put me through with her this season. it was fucking brutal having to watch her bones snap like that. i was honestly shaking, like holy shit. and then she died, and then she didn’t? hmm? what did el do that saved her? what consequences will that have??? so many unanswered questions. but, i will say this: sadie sink deserves a fucking emmy.

•ronance/vickie x robin•

-i am so beyond pissed at the duffers brothers for the shit they pulled with robin in these 2 eps. like, vickie’s not in the season except for one two minute scene in ep 1 and then they bring her back for the last ep? and yeah, her and robin could be cute i guess, but it felt so shoehorned in. like they clearly just shoved that scene in at the last minute to fill a diversity quota and makes me fucking ANGRY. the opportunity was there for robin to have a fully fleshed-out, meaningful, poignant romance with nancy. they’ve been together all season, they’ve grown closer, understood each other, looked out for each other. hell, i even thought the duffers might go there with that scene where robin grabs nancy’s hand outside the creel house. but no. because why give us an actually good wlw relationship when you can shove it to the side and give us absolutely crumbs of representation? bullshit.

•eddie’s death•

-tbh i was expecting him to die, and so i wasn’t shocked but. it felt very anticlimactic. like, the whole focus was on him dying a hero—but then he didn’t technically save anyone? he just…died? for seemingly no reason? and yeah, dustin’s reaction BROKE me, but like then nobody else ever mentions it? not even steve, robin or nancy, who have been with him the whole season. it just all felt so rushed. joe quinn, you did a great job man, and you deserved better writing.

•elmax•

-is it just me or did every one of max and el’s scenes together feel very…romantic? like, yeah they’re best friends who haven’t seen each other in a while, but all of their interactions were framed and built up to seem almost like lover’s reuniting? like they’re touching each other’s faces constantly when they first see each other again, max is looking at el’s lips, max’s ‘death’ involved el crying over her just as much as lucas. and when el visited her in the hospital everyone like made way for her as if she’s the most important person to max. am i going crazy here??? someone tell me they get what i’m trying to say. anyway, another saving grace of the season, elmax remains superior.

•the ending•

-i actually think the ending was pretty cool. like it sets up a vastly different, darker and more epic final season. we actually saw the battle with the upside down and vecna having disastrous effects on hawkins. and i thought the return of the mind flayer actually was kinda cool, and the way everything was explained was pretty good. but, after these 2 eps, i’m not sure i trust the duffer brothers with another season. well. we’ll see what happens i guess.

overall, volume 2 was a let-down. ooc characters, messily wrapped up plot lines, shoved in, shitty representation. it all felt rushed and like the duffers kinda gave up halfway through. highlights of the eps include: the jopper kiss, elmax, robin grabbing nancy’s hand when she was scared, hopper beheading a demogorgan, eddie playing guitar, erica kicking that one guy in the balls and natalia dyer, noah schnapp, caleb mclaughlin, millie bobby brown and sadie sink’s acting.

what did you guys think?

[luimagines]

SKYLNK Reporting for Duty

A commission! They requested more Skydroid! A bit of a sick fic, but guess who’s not even in this? Reader! Some how. I don’t know how I swung that.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

He wasn’t sure what to think about his new master. 

For starters they refused to be called master. Which was fine he supposed. It wasn’t necessarily in their programming to call them that and so he went with the name they designated themselves to be called.

He also wasn’t the only android here. There was an outdated WNDLNK model that has seen better days. But the girl that fixed him up and brought him to this house came by regularly. Sky (as his master was inclined to call him) thought it was to monitor his progress and for a while his assumptions were proven correct.

He was tested and interrogated gently about his jobs and his issues and they talked with his master in regards to his behavior and achievements. Things that he could improve on were brought up when they thought he wasn’t within hearing range.

Sky thought he was doing quite well in his new assignment.

If only his master wasn’t so stubborn.

Being overworking themself and putting more on their plate than they could handle, they adamantly refused to take breaks or take medicine or anything that would remotely remedy the situation.

Sky didn’t know what to do.

He was given instructions to take care of them. He was given tools and protocols to follow should they act against him or try to avoid him entirely. It’s happened before as it is.

That being said he wasn’t about to give up on his mission. He was designed to complete it and he was going to do his job.

The WNDLNK model wasn’t helping. His master called the little one Wind affectionately and with some gently prying. He model had been around since his master’s youth. A companion droid to also help his master take care of themselves. His sudden appearance into their lives makes a little more after that little tidbit of knowledge. According to what the sources given to him say, the other droid is nearly two decades old. The parts made for that model are no longer in production and given enough time he would fall into the pit of irrelevance like all droids tend to do.

The mechanic’s interference also makes more sense after he learns this. She’s there to keep the little one functioning still and keep him from malfunctioning at the behest of his master.

The little one would enable his master with their habits and do little to nothing to stop them from digging themself deeper into the hole they’ve found themself in. He adores the WNDLNK model. Truly, he does. But he doesn’t make his job any easier

 What’s that saying that the humans have? Old habits die hard?

His master has corrupted the little one to enable their behavior.

“But they always do that.” Wind (as his master calls them) says to him one day. “They always come out ok on the other side. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem-” Sky stresses. “- is that they don’t have to go through this at all. It’s inefficient and tiresome. I am designed to look after them and I will but they won’t listen.”

“Then stop.” Wind says casually.

“I have my mission to complete.”

“Then your mission won’t finish until they die. You’ll be here for a while in that case.” 

Sky doesn’t know what to actually think about the way “Wind” talks. It’s… different. Not a bad different, surely. But sometimes even he forgets that he’s talking to another droid. It’s too human. Too casual at times. He wonders if he will be the same should the same time pass.

“Then so be it.” Sky replies. “When the time comes for them to pass, I can start my next mission easily, knowing that I have completed my mission to the best of my ability.”

“If you don’t combust within that time.” Wind shrugs. “You’re too serious. Everyone knows I don’t have that long either. It’s really just a matter of time. They will live longer than I certainly can with the way things are going. They just don’t want to admit it.”

Sky pauses at that. “Either way… Whichever comes first then.”

Sky can feel something change within his code. It’s not a thought that he would have thought about before. He doesn’t know how “Wind” comes up with these thoughts. And yet Sky is almost certain that he would be able to stay relevant long enough to see his master through the grief of losing “Wind”.

He needs to do research on how to help grieving humans before it’s too late. He’s heard that it can get messy.

“Bleak.” “Wind” shrugs. “What are you doing?”

Sky sighs. He’s never going to get his work done at this rate. “If you need to know, I’m searching for home remedies for our master. I have a suspicion that they are sick and refuse to do anything about it. I also suspect that they won’t let me go get medicine because that would be admitting defeat and it just so happens that there is none in the house.”

“You know they don’t like being called that.” Wind ignores the rest of his statement. “It makes them feel weird.”

Sky doesn’t have time for this. “Slip of the tongue then.”

“But you’re programmed to not mess up like that.” Wind pokes his back, smirking. “Wouldn’t you have instantly fixed your protocol to call them by their name instead of calling them ‘master’ still?”

Sky huffs and rolls his eyes. More and more he finds that he’s turning more and more human-like. “Becaaauuuse I… didn’t. There. Are you happy now?”

“I think you’re going to stop being a stickler for your mission within the year. Your mannerisms are changing as we speak and you’re going to stop having that stick up your butt about doing things according to protocol.” 

Sky turns around and begins pushing “Wind” away.

“Hey! No fair! You’re stronger than me!”

“It’s because I’m a newer model.” Sky replies easily. “And I’m bigger by default.”

“You’re no fun!” 

Sky closes the door and sighs. Another human quirk. “That kid is going to be the death of me.”

Sky can feel “Wind” bang on the door and try to get back in. “Let me in! Or I’m telling!”

Sky turns down the volume. He takes a moment to steady his fans and sensors before he moves off of the door again. It’s not locked, so it’s up to “Wind” to figure out that he’s gone and he can come back into the house at any time.

He needs to get something for a cough, potential fever and something for nausea and headaches, muscle aches… What else do humans go through when they’re sick?

They don’t have much.

Sky can make chamomile tea with baking soda. That would help with the nausea but there’s only so many tea bags left in the box. And he doubts that there’s even baking soda in the house. 

He doesn’t know what’s going to help with a fever other than ice. His master isn’t going to sit down and put an ice pack on their head even if that would help. It would, once again, be admitting defeat.

He could draw them a bath and put epsom salt in there to help with any aches in pains but that wouldn't necessarily help a headache. They have pain killers at the very least so he’d have to find a way to get them to take some. And then somehow find a different way to get them to take some more when the pills eventually wear off.

Sky sets up the kettle and the cup of tea. He doubts they’ll be very hungry but he’d feel better if they had something in their stomach despite the nasia. He plans to have them drink the tea first. And when their stomach settles, he’d get them some soup and that would put something in their stomach which hopefully would give them the needed nutrient boost to fight their sickness.

Sky looks at the clock. It’s close to the end of their shift. They should be home in thirty minutes. He can make the soup in that amount of time.

He begins to take over the kitchen. He gets out the carrots, the onions, the celery, the potatoes, the garlic and begins to peel and cut them up. He fills up a pot with water and sets it to warm up.

“Wind” has since reentered the house and has found him at work. He watches intensely and sits at the table. “Wind” doesn’t help much around the kitchen… or around the house for that matter. If Sky didn’t know what he does, he would assume that “Wind” was just in the house to stand around and look cute.

“Can you take the kettle off of the burner please?” Sky asks the little one. He knows that he’s not programmed to do tasks but that won’t stop him from putting him to work. An extra pair of hands is nice to have around, he supposes.

“Wind” nods and moves away from the table to take the screaming metal whistle off of the burner and puts it on a cooler one. Sky throws the vegetables in the pot with some salt and begins to take out some seasonings to help put some flavor into the soup.

With that on a different burner to simmer and cook, he takes out a cup and the tea. Sky puts in the sugar and a pinch of baking soda like he had read. He mixes it so it would dissolve a bit easier. Sky doubts that’s how it works but that’s how the mechanic explained it when she put two things of similar consistencies together. Sky has found that he has adopted the habit.

Sky looks at the clock again and “Wind” follows suit. “Ten minutes until they should be home.”

“But that’s not accounting for anything that might have gotten in their way on the way here.” Sky grumbles. He thinks about it. It’ll take nearly an hour for the food to cook as he has it, but he’s not done with it.

Sky pours the hot water from the kettle into the cup and lets the tea steep. He moves through the house and begins setting up the bath. He makes sure the water is as hot as it can be and begins to pour in some lavender bubble bath. They don’t have epsom salt but lavender is known to help humans with stress levels. He hopes it works. For added effect he throws in a lavender bath bomb and lets the tub fill. He lights some candles and leaves them on the counter so they don’t fall or cause any potential damage.

He walks back out and looks through the freezer. They have chicken. Perfect. He’ll add that to the soup.

Sky knows that there isn’t much he can do other than this. He doesn’t have the badge that would legally allow him to leave the house to go shopping unsupervised. Sky knows that could still leave the house whenever he wanted. His master is quite lenient in terms of protocol and processes. But his programming doesn’t allow him to step beyond what is done within the law. He knows it’s been ordered but this will have to suffice for now.

“Wind” cleans up the mess he has made while he was playing video games by himself in the living room. “Wind” puts the pillows back where they were. He saves his game and turns off the system. Lastly, he fixes the blanket back on the cough to how it was before he used it to burrito himself from the scarier parts of the game.

Sky hums to himself as he watches the little one work. The tea is cooling to the perfect temperature the tub has since been filled and turned off. The food is cooking.

The door opens.

“Welcome home.”

[annemarieyeretzian]

sidenote: I’ve seen a lot of people in the tag Big Mad over a) chetney and fresh cut grass saying laudna’s been dead before and b) orym being revivified and like... just say you don’t like orym and go.

chetney and fresh cut grass – and imogen herself but apparently that’s ok to y’all because it’s imogen – were trying to help a friend in obvious distress make an impossible decision and Those Are The Facts: laudna’s been dead before! so maybe they could get her back again! the fact that so many of you are reading callous disregard for laudna into that statement is mind-blowing to me. they weren’t being careless, they were desperate to save everyone. holding to the hope that, if they – if the coin – chose orym, it might still be easier to bring laudna back.

(also, the obsession surrounding ashley and/or fearne lying is so fucking weird. what does it matter that she didn’t show anyone the coin? what does it matter that she’s fey? oh now it matters that a fey creature can be a creature of whim? but when birdy and ollie didn’t think through the consequences of their actions they’re Bad Parents? stop trying to fucking justify the fact that you don’t like orym and didn’t want him to be revivified. just say you don’t like orym and go, part II.)

orym wouldn’t have stayed with his husband for any number of reasons – including why the fuck would he leave his friends and abandon his remaining family who he doesn’t have justice for because he hasn’t caught his husband and father’s killers yet – but the only reason that matters is liam clearly didn’t want to, so shut the fuck up about his character. those of you who are insisting that orym would have stayed with his husband as if you know more about this character than the actor that created him need a damn nap and some apple juice. we could further get into the meta of it all but you know how I know orym wouldn’t have chosen to stay with his husband? HE DIDN’T.

this isn’t our game. it’s theirs. they’re telling a story – they’re telling their story. and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to watch it! and you certainly don’t have to talk about it! you’re obviously allowed to have your opinions: I rarely connected to percy, who was and is the white boy flavor of the month and I never, ever liked molly and was relieved when he died, but I wasn’t out here harassing others in the fandom or the fucking cast because my opinions are irrelevant to the story! your feelings may be hashtag valid but using your each and every emotional reaction to a story you clearly don’t like? just say you don’t like orym, you don’t like the story, shut the fuck up, and stay out of the tags.

if you’re still watching but have been bitching about each and every decision the cast is making collaboratively as part of their game and the story they are telling