#I love how squishy baby bill looks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pedge-page · 10 months ago

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omg imagine PK x Plushies i love you so much girl you are amazing

Plushies x Piss Kink Crossover - Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: The crossover that was bound to happen and its HEREREEEEEEEE. This is more Plushies!verse setting and they discover a lil piss kink.

Warnings: PissKink, Plushies humping, yes we are peeing on the plush, premature ejaculation, assisted male masturbation, crying, jealous!Joel, and a HINT (just a bit) of sub!Joel at the end

18+ ONLY

- - - -

“What’s this one? Benny the Buffalo?” Joel asks, staring down at the brown fuzzy stuffed animal in his hands.

“No, dummy, that’s Biscuit, the Bison,” you retort, not even looking at him as you continue reading.

The two of you are lying down on your new “shared” bed, and Joel has decided its time he get to know his roommates on first name basis.

“Course. And this?” He snatches the white rabbit next. “BunBun?”

“Carrot.”

“Appropriate. How about Ghosty over here?”

“Casper.”

“How original. Aaaannnddd....?” He shoves the next one in your face to get your attention: a fat baby chick with an enormous orange bill.

“Mr Quakers,” you answer matter-of-factly.

“I bet he’s loads of fun on that little nub of yours,” he snickers. He tosses the poor chick like a free-throw basketball across the room.

He grabs the next one, buried waaaay in the back of your bed under all the rest. “Alright, Let me guess… Hammy the Hamster.”

“No that’s—“ you take one look at the one currently in his palms: a medium sized hamster with bitty hands and a large head as big as his squat body. Quickly hiding your shocked expressions, you go back to your book and say very casually, “Um…that’s… Frank.”

“Frank?”

“Mhm.”

“Just Frank.”

“Yup.”

“Frank the Hamster. How does that make sense?”

“Well I didn’t name him.”

“And who did?"

You swallow, wondering why Joel’s got so many goddamn questions about the naming conventions of your stuffed animals. “Um … Frank did…”

“Stuck up fella, naming the thing after him. Who was this “Frank” then. Your uncle? Was he as perverted as me?”

“No. Frank’s… my ex.”

Your face feels hot, avoiding his gaze and trying to look anywhere but at him.

Joel stares at you with an unreadable expression, then back to the fisted squishy hamster plush. He contemplates for what feels like an eternity. There’s an uneasy silence hanging in the air, and your heart is beating out of your chest, wondering what he may be thinking about those word resonating in his ears.

He clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth into diamonds while looking at something so extremely soft and huggable. You hope maybe he’ll just dropkick it out the window at worst, but instead:

“Hands and knees on the floor. We’re fucking Frankie the Hamster tonight.”

There was no “we”. What he really meant was YOU are fucking Frank the Hamster tonight, and he is pinning you down and forcing you to grind on it harder.

“Joel—that—feels… uncomfortable.”

He’s not rubbing his cock along your ass, or nudging your clit or kissing you. Instead, he’s caged you between the thick mass of his sold body and the hamster on the floor, your legs spread out with his knees along the inside of your calves to keep them open.

He keeps rubbing along your pelvis, palm digging into the squishy part right below your belly, pressing hard against your bladder.

“Joel,” you warn again. Your legs quiver with the rapid build, too afraid to push him off entirely. He’s steaming, that’s for sure, but why torture you above the little helpless guy?

“S’matter? You don’t like rubbing your slutty pussy over your ex’s face?”

“It’s just a stuffed animal—ow!” You cry as Joel pinches your nipple through your shirt.

“You grind on Frankie’s face before?”

“N-no. Never,” you swear.

“Mmm. Not sure I believe you, sweet pea. Kept him all these years, didn’t ya?”

You shake your head, too afraid to face him. You really hadn’t been grinding on the hamster ever. In fact, you nearly forgetting of his existence until Joel fished him up while asking everyone’s name.

He forces your back to arch even more drastically, putting more pressure between your naked cunt and the soft squish bellow you. You furrow your brows, fear creeping between your spread legs, unable to clench against something to brush off the mounting pressure in you.

“Joel please—I really need to go...” you didn't want to finish the sentences. He wasn't pleasuring with his hands you in the right places so much as building pressure in the wrong one.

“Go where? I’m all you need. Right. Here.” His fingers dig possessively into your side while his other hand pushes into your lower belly.

You shake your head again. Heart racing now that you no longer care about your pleasure and are more concerned with the mess of forbidden bodily fluids you’re about to rain all over your poor Frankie—

It hits you with burning desire mixed with an irksome bile. You gasp out angrily.

This. Mother. Fucking. Asshole.

Joel smirks into your neck behind you, as if reading your mind figuring out his evil little plan.

“S’wrong, angel? Would you rather be doing this with any of MY plushies I’ve spoiled you with?”

“I—you—“ you grit your teeth, eyes closing as a wave of panic washes deep through your core. You’re desperate not to make a mess, a fool of yourself to tame his sadistic need to own every inch of control over you.

He hears the little staggered pants from your lips. “Do it,” he commands softly but with finality, laced with a sadistic “win” for him.

A tear slips down your cheek as you moan sadly, your stomach giving up and unclenching as the walls of your bladder breaks, and hot urine spills into the stuffed animal’s face currently wedged so tightly against your entrance.

“Shhhhhh,” he coos, finally grinding himself against your ass. He can hear the feint rushing liquid of your piss splatting into the cotton.

He presses you further into its plush softness, suffocating every inch of your crotch so that it absorbs all the nasty warm juice squeezing out of you like a lemon. Your legs quiver violently as you can’t help but release more and more, flowing out as if by his demand and feeling the poor plush get heavy with the rush filling its cotton innards up.

"Naughty girl, am I making you piss all over your ex's face? Little Frankie doesn't deserve that does he?" He taunts, fully well intending for this to exactly happen as he wanred.

There’s so much, and another tear slips passed you, but this one because it feels so—relieving. It’s gross and nasty, embarrassing and heartbreaking all at once, and it makes you hump against him and the dampened hamster even more.

Joel feel the quickened breaths coming out desperately from your nose as you grind down on the defiled thing all soaked up with your own piss. Your hips are frantic, smothering your cunt with the piss-logged plush desperately, as if you were trying to...

“Shit—are you…?”

You cry out in response, mouth agape with satisfied groans when you clit catches along the wet seams just right and you find yourself cumming on the sad wet thing drowned below you.

Joel clears his throat in surprise. His cock pulses on its own and floods the inside of his pants in white strings of his seed.

Did he think you would probably cry? Yes.

Did he want you to pee and destroy your ex’s little gift to you? Yes.

Did he expect you to fucking cum from it? Um.

Did he know HE would cum from it??? No. Definitely not.

His teeth grind against one another trying not to think about how perverted he is, pulling away from you so you can’t feel his sticky spent through his trousers and on to your back.

The squishy lump below you begins seeping the now cooled piss into the floor boards. You sigh deeply, not sure what to do now that your little punishment has turned into—something wilder.

You feel a gentle kiss along your cheek, his thumb caressing away your tears.

“That was hot,” He admits plainly.

You cover your face to hide your smile. It’s gross. It really is. Should be embarrassing. You don’t even want to think about the hamster on the floor, the memories you’ve just soddened with your own fucking piss.

He helps you off the floor. Your thighs still shake, the uncomfortable feeling hanging there in disgust now that you’re mentally sober again.

He guides you to the shower where you both wash up quietly.

“Um—listen I didn’t… I don’t know why you would keep your ex’s stuff but…I mean I’m reasonably… it doesn’t make me feel great, so ya can’t blame me, for getting jealous—“

You shut him up but tugging against his half hard cock.

“First of all,” you say, the sudden boldness in your voice blanking his mind into submission under your touch.

“That plush, was from my first boyfriend—in high school. We dated for 2 months,” you continued, your fingers gripping his base with a gentle squeeze, feeling him swell to full mass, “and then he realized he liked boys. That was it. We laughed about it and stayed good friends. He gave me the stuffed animal as a parting gift to college for helping him through it all.”

You stop rubbing his cock and Joel opens his eyes. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“So…Frank’s just… a friend…”

You kiss his collarbone. “Just a friend,” you repeat.

The water coats his back soothingly. An ache that had formed in his muscles, the strain of aggression tickling his brain from the minute he heard you had a stuffed animal named after your ex, still in your bed after years, had suddenly vanished.

“Why—why would you say hes your ex and not just your old friend? Why'd ya let me make you do that to it?” He asks, concerned now that he’s ruined something sentimental to you over his quickness to jealousy.

“Because—“ you nip along the swell of his chest, both hands working along his hardened cock. “You wanted it.” Your thumb swipes along his tip, the precum feeling sticky despite the shower water drenching you.

He moans, head falling into your shoulder as he thrusts his length into your palm.

As your wrist continues to jerk him off, your lips ghost the shell of his ear with a deadly, lascivious whisper:

“And I’m too crazy for you to say no.”

- - - -

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braxlrose · 2 years ago

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You should do a bill!sub x reader. He has to whimper 🤭

sub bill sub bill sub bill sub bill sub bill sub bill

okay so i actually have two requests for sub!bill so ill add in that one too.

request: what about dacryphilia but for bill. like riding him till hes crying but when you try to get off of him he just pulls you back asking for more, i mean being so fucked out he is bucking into you. from my favorite anon ;)

word count: 768

tw: handcuffs, (implied) mommy kink sort of? (it was only said twice), sub!bill, dom!reader, dacraphilia, hickies, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics, implied drinking, begging.

"WHATEVER YOU WANT, BABY."

It was 11 'o clock at night. you had and bill had just gotten home from a party, both of you a little bit tipsy. Both of you had sweat running down your forehead because of all the dancing and people around you.

"Mmm bab..baby~" Bill came up behind you while you pulled off your sweaty clothes that had been sticking to your skin all night. A smirk crawled onto your face while bills arms wrapped around you, moving closer to your breasts. You raised an eyebrow slightly but didn't pay any attention to bill which ended up with him and his cute little face in a pout.

"Ba~byyy.." Bill now whispered with his hands on your hips and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking up at you.

"What is it bill?" you asked in a monotone voice, turning around to look at him.

"i want you.." His fingers intertwined with yours as he leaned in with a dopey smile on his face.

"Well im real tired baby, how about another day." you teased. It was pretty obvious you wanted him too after you strutted past him in your panties and bra. A pout stayed on bills face and the begging began. baby please. i need you so bad. my dick hurts. i know you want it too. youre so pretty baby. pretty please. please. please. please. mommy?

That was all enough to make you pull down your cute little strawberry panties and bra. which is what led to now.

"AaaAh baby please...slow down..slow down slow down slooooww down...." Bill had his head thrown all the way back as you rode his dick. his hands were handcuffed to the bed and he was completely sprawled out in front of you, all cute and naked. he had hickies all over his chest. you even made some in the shape of a heart surrounding his left nipple.

"But baby you're making me feel so fucking good. don't you like making me feel good? don't you, pretty boy?" and he did. he loved making you feel good. he loved every single second of it.

bill nodded his head, whispering barely coherent i love yous. his eyes were all glossy and his eyeliner was smeared everywhere. you had put a little lipstick on his lips too just to smear it around. why wouldn't you? you just loved your messy boy. "Please..." he whispered out to you, "I wanna touth..touch you..pleasth..un...uncuff me...." his words began to slur with a lisp as more teared poured out of his pretty brown eyes. you loved hearing him beg for you. it was like music to your ears. and as much as you loved to tease and edge your pretty boy, you loved hearing him happy. and you loved his slim fingers digging into your squishy thighs. so with that, you leaned forward, his dick slipping out of you causing a loud whine to leave bill, and you uncuffed him.

"AaAaahh~ put it back in...put it back in mommy...please...please..please please please please pleaseeeee." You raised an eyebrow and grabbed his face roughly.

"which one of us is in charge? because i thought it was me until you started ordering me around. you wanna be in charge baby. fine. go ahead and be in charge." you leaned over to the other side and him and got off of his stomach and laid down next to him.

"no. no. no...no. no. no. i dont wanna be in charge. im sorry....im sorry..do whatever you want with me please..im sorry.." drool started to form in the corners of his mouth along with the tears running down his face. he was so pretty like this. when he begged.

"I thought you wanted to order me around, baby?" You crossed your arms, squishing your boobs a bit.

"No, i didn't mean it. i didnt know what i was saying..please..ill make you feel good please.." you ran your heads over his head and down to his temple, rubbing it a bit. you looked at him with puppy dog eyes and bit your lip.

"Fine. but i hear you make one peep and im stopping." he nodded fast and laid back in his position. his dick looked so cute. it was all shaven clean and the tip was bright red. you touched it a bit to slide it back in you and that made his dick go crazy. it even slapped his stomach. that always made you smile. You finally grabbed his dick and slid it inside of you, making you throw your head back. "Mmm...i love this dick baby. its so perfect for me..you know that?" you were testing him. he was supposed to answer you whenever you asked him a question. he always did. that was a rule. but he also didn't want to make you mad. he wanted you to keep riding him until he passed out.

You smiled at him once he didn't answer you. he was such a good boy. you loved good boys. brats were little shits who didn't know their place, in your opinion. but bill was never like that. Bill knew what you wanted, what he wanted, and he was happy. you two were both happy.

you kept riding him for the next couples minutes with his fingers pressing into your hips. they were definitely gonna leave bruises. his eyes were closed again and he was biting at his lip so hard, trying not to make any noise. your little messy boy didn't even notice he was bucking into you. you could hear his breathing getting louder and his grip on your hips was tightening. that went on for another minute or so until you both twitched and came together. the loudest squeal that you have ever heard came out of bills drool-soaked mouth. it was so perfect. you began to lift yourself off of him but he didn't let go of your hips.

" i wanna stay i'side..." you carassed his cheek and grabbed a wipe off the counter to wipe off his sweaty makeup before leaning down to lay on his chest.

"whatever you want, baby."

A/N: i didn't proofread for sorry for any spelling mistakes. i hope this was up to your guys's liking!!

#bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #sub bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #tokio hotel fanfics #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader #bill x reader #smut #fluff #mommy kinks #dom reader

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undertale-writing-times · 10 months ago

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Hi , idk if you celebrate it or not , still hope your day is good ^^ can I ask for some Bad guys ( Nightmare , dust , horror , killer , cross , error , shattered Dream , Scoundrel , Bill sans ) parenting headcanons ? maybe The swap and fell brothers ? Thanks for reading my message

Hey! Uh sorry, I only write a few of those ^^' I have a list of names on my thing. It's pinned.

Nightmare: Nightmare wouldn't exactly go out of his way to be a father. It isn't something that he wanted to do! But, now that he is, he would take care of his babybones. It isn't rare to see him carrying the small bundle of blankets around with him in his tentacles. While working he would rock them with his tentacles to help them fall asleep, and since he doesn't need to sleep almost at all, he would take care of them while his datemate slept. Of course he IS sometimes busy, so he couldn't spend his time with them all the time… he would try to act like he doesn't care abot them, but it's easy to tell that he does.

Dusty: He would be a shockingly good dad, but only when he COULD dad. You see, sometimes he has a hard time pushing himself to do things and sometimes he would accidentally lash out. He tries his best to not do that! When he takes care of his babybones, he'll be pretty good to them. He'll listen to them talk, plays with them all the time, and loves it whenever they want to lay on him but sometimes he just can't handle it. He would try to teach his kids to do things thta they shouldn't… like how to pick locks, or how to throw knives and blah blah blah. Baby likes to sleep on top of him because he's so hot.

Axe: He would be SO good at taking care of children! He has always wanted to have children and to take care of them, even if he didn't think that he could because of his low magic levels. Sometimes he would feel nervous to be around his babybones too much, mostly because of how sharp he is! Babies are so soft and squishy, and he's sharp and hard. The baby would look so small in his hands, and he cried the first time that he held them. Baby has him wrapped around their little finger in no time and he can't punish them for almost anything, unless it's really bad.

Killer: Sometimes he treats his kids more like friends, rather than his children. It isn't always a good thing, and sometimes he'll talk them into doing stuff that they shouldn't, just because he finds it fun! Other than that, he is a good dad, just… I dunno, sometimes not a good one. He'll get better as the time goes along, I'm sure.

Error: Wouldn't be a good dad. They've made it VERY clear that they DON'T want to be a parent. They wouldn't help with the kid unless they were forced to, and even then, they don't want to. Sorry ^^'

Daydream: Daydream would be a very good parent, but only sometimes. You see, he likes it when his kids behave but when they don't, he doesn't mind punishing them! He gives them a lot of stuff that they would want, but if they act out, he will show them that he isn't going to take whatever they give him. Other than that, he's a pretty good caretaker :)

#undertale alternate universe #undertale alternate timeline #undertale ask blog #undertale headcanons #undertale au #Dreamtale #Dreamtale Nightmare #Dusttale #Dusttale Sans #Horrortale #Horrortale Sans #Killertale #Killertale Sans #Error #Errortale #Dreamswap #Dreamswap Dream

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lariyats · 11 months ago

Text

something something my haikaveh pokemon au

the NOTES. for people who don’t have much knowledge of pokemon.

if you have NOT been linked here from the fic, the fic is here.

KAVEH’S TEAM

Pidgeot, Reuniclus, Mehrak (Porygon2)

ALHAITHAM’S TEAM

Braviary (Hisuian), Metagross, Pichu

they each have a big bird, a stage 2 psychic type and a baby (mehrak is a baby) bc they’re cringe and matchy matchy mirrors of each other. etc.

i forgor the brush i was using so that’s why they look different oops sawry

FAQ (but not really)

Q: why does alhaitham have a metagross?

A: ‘i’m just a feeble scholar’ headass. i wrote that not many ppl know he has one but after the coup this changes and everyone finds out. they both hate it

Q: mehrak porygon and not rotom?

A: yes. bc someone has to be! ancient artificial pkmn thats been a little bugged out from age etc. i think its funnier like this too (running joke)

+relationship chart if anyone's curious. ignore that its in the notes app i wrote it while i was on vacation.

protip: birds were picked on vibes (pokedex entries), psychic types on vibes but also how they can help with their day jobs (actually only kaveh) and their babies on both vibes and helpfulness (you can probably guess who). check the dex entries for more information. what can i say.

reshiram is the dragon of truth + zekrom is the dragon of ideals - why theyre paired with haitham and kaveh respectively should be self explanatory. i think.

not mentioned, but the other competitors teams.

in this au, the structure of the competition rounds is the same as canon, but they can also pick one pokemon partner to help them each round. battling is prohibited except for in the final round, where some is allowed for purposes of gaining the diadem. kaveh picked mehrak in all three rounds.

- faruzan and golurk

- layla and abra

- tighnari and breloom

& of course, wanderer and silvally, cyno and lucario, and nahida and shaymin! nahida also takes care of a 1% zygarde (a little squishy guy)

ENDING SCENE COMMENTARY

in my idea of hvkh. hthm is kind of a ‘and then i’ll keep these feelings inside until i die’ kind of guy but also not really. he knows he’s in love but he doesn’t want to say it out loud bc he also knows that saying it when kaveh isn’t ready for it could end badly.

so what he does is show it in other ways. he bickers like usual. he goes to pick him up from the tavern and pay his bill and take him home, take off his makeup and his accessories etc. making little accomodations for him that he wouldn’t for anyone else. that’s the kind of love that he shows.

kvh on the other hand is the …. hmmge…. dunno how to word it properly but the ‘if i let myself be loved then i let myself be known.’ kind of guy. or something. it’s not that he doesn’t return hthm’s feelings! or even not know what it means! but he doesn’t want to accept them for what they actually are bc… if he does, then it also means confronting the fact that someone actually Cares about him [jawdrop.jpg]. and that person is like. the most annoying person you have ever known but also like the only person who perfectly matches you beat for beat and makes you Feel. feelings. horrendous.

so bc of that i did Not actually choose to put in words the big L word . Yes they do Confess, but in the theme of things, it’s more Actions speak louder than Words. it is also more wow. both me and alhaitham would probably break out in hives if he straight up said it like that. i would much rather let the two of them be the ‘act’ and the ‘react’.

i also think that kaveh is someone who loves romantic gestures and even though what happened was romantic (kind of) lots of things happened that made it also. really weird. so while its p much acceptance of feelings he also wants to have a chance to properly convey things and have a heartfelt romantic dramatic speech etc. after he's prepared. that's the proper answer part.

it’s a tale of two idiots who both have acts of service as their giving love language but the extent to which their receiving (acts of service) differs. bc kaveh probably has receiving (words of affirmation) and haithams is. idk. receiving (knowing that the person he loves knows he is loved and that he is taking care of himself and knows his own worth). bc as cute as physical affection hc is it do think that it’s not really something he absolutely needs or wants. whoa i am rambling ok ill stop myself there for now. whew.

#yatsu writes #equilibrium resonance #pokemon au #genshin #kaveh #alhaitham #haikavetham

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suntoru · 3 years ago

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Ok,so. Can i request Headcanons for Shinso, shoto, Katsuki, eijiro, dabi and shota aizawa (and any other boy you maybe want)with a reader who is extremly insecure about her thighs?

Reader pls fem! and she has big thighs <3

fem! reader who’s insecure about her thighs

a/n: sorry for the wait, love! there’s just a lot going on right now, but here’s your request

⤷ hitoshi shinsou

○ he notices but never pressures you to talk about it

○ you would never wear shorts or skirts, even with the UA uniform, no skin below your hips would be showing

○ okay but why though?

○ it’s like one of his favourite things about you

○ he loves how soft and squishy they are

○ whenever you go out, he always has his hand on your thigh

○ thinks you’re gorgeous no matter what you do, it makes his heart break that you don’t think the same

○ compliments you subtly, or at least tries to

○ slightly concerned that you might try and do something dangerous to yourself, will eventually confront you if it goes too far

“toshi, what are you doing?” you giggle softly. his hands are slightly calloused, a result of his intense training with aizawa-sensei. he’s caressing your upper leg, touch so light it tickles. “nothing, just really love your thighs.” you’re surprised, since it’s one of the things you hate the most about yourself.

“kitty, i adore everything about you, and it breaks my heart to see you don’t feel the same. so let me teach you how to love yourself, if you’ll trust me.”

⤷ shoto todoroki

○ honestly he’s so blunt he doesn’t realize it

○ he’s very perceptive in logical situations, but when it comes to feelings his brain kind of shuts down

○ you never wore anything that showed your legs

○ he assumed that was your style, or that you just didn’t enjoy wearing skirts because of the inconvenience

○ don’t blame him, but like sho baby, please

○ you’ll probably have to tell him

○ he still might not understand, but he’ll try his best for you

○ before you told him, he bought you thigh highs for the UA uniform with endeavor’s his credit card

○ lmfao imagine endeavor looking through his credit bill and seeing this shit

○ when you tell him you can’t wear it he’s just like why

“sho… i can’t wear this.” you frowned. “why not?” he asks, visibly confused. “because my thighs are too… thick. they’ll look weird.” you mumbled, feeling bad your boyfriend wasted his money on something that wouldn’t even look good. tears in your eyes pricked, but you tried not to show it.

“my love, i wish i could protect you so you don’t ever have to feel this way. i know i’m not exactly the best with feelings, …but why don’t we learn to love ourselves together?”

⤷ katsuki bakugo

○ he probably will realize it somewhere down the road of your relationship

○ a bit more perceptive than todoroki

○ whenever you were forced to wear shorts you would always pull them down as far as they’d go

○ thought is was strange and you looked good

○ but of course, his pride and ego got in the way of being able to compliment you

○ one day monoma decided to insult you and call you fat for having enough confidence to wear something different

○ bad decision

○ bakugo starts to curse and threaten him as explosions start to pop

○ it isn’t until you break down about it that he’s like ‘oh fuck i should go help my s/o’

“shit y/n, stop crying.” he growls. but his anger isn’t directed at you, it’s that bastard monoma. you finally chose to wear some shorts because it was really hot that day, but of course, you ran into that class 1-B asshole.

“dumbass, don’t listen to that damn extra. tch, you looked… okay.”

⤷ eijiro kirishima

○ he doesn’t understand why you would hate any part of yourself

○ like he thinks you’re perfect and can’t see you any other way

○ it kind of breaks his heart to see you insult yourself, even if you try and make a joke out of it

○ he frowns every single time you do it, not that you notice

○ will enthusiastically compliment you even if you barely made a difference

○ baby steps

○ also loves your thighs and how thick they are

○ always smiles whenever you wear a skirt or shorts and praises you

○ if anyone dares to look at you the wrong way you bet he’ll give them the fight they’re looking for

“i wish my wallet was as thick as my thighs.” you half-joked, trying to crack a smile from your boyfriend. kirishima frowns. he doesn’t like the way you talk to yourself, even though you always try to cover it up.

“pebble, don’t talk to yourself like that. every part of you is manly, and i love your thighs the most.”

⤷ dabi

○ loves to imprint his name on your upper leg

○ he also loves to make fun of them in a joking manner, but if it makes you uncomfortable he’ll stop

○ smiles whenever you sit on his lap

○ massages the fat of your thigh with one of his hands while the other is around your shoulders

○ catches you measuring your thighs

○ he might know that you’re insecure about it or that you’re hiding something

○ won’t confront you, just lets you do your thing

○ he doesn’t know how to tell you that he loves you and that you shouldn’t be self-conscious

○ whenever you wear a dress he’s gonna be cocky as hell

“doll, why are you measuring your legs? are you flexing on me right now?” he asks in a teasing voice, but there are only tears in your eyes. “t-they’re too big… i hate them.”

“i was only teasing, baby. and besides, you look fucking sexy in that.”

⤷ shota aizawa

○ he just rests his head on your legs

○ he’s found his new pillow and will take naps in the worst possible moments

○ like he’s supposed to be teaching his class but nope you’re both stuck there until he decides to wake up

○ it’s kind of cute but inconvenient

○ he loves how soft they are and how comfy they are for his head

○ aside from that, he loves to randomly draw shapes and patterns everywhere

○ he’s addicted please help this man

○ honestly didn’t realize until you told him you were probably suffocating him

“shota, get off! i’m probably choking you.” you whined, but it fell on deaf ears. “who cares.” he mumbled, tired and sleepy. but the moment you mumbled something about disliking your thighs his eyes sprung open.

“kitten, every part of you is equally as beautiful. i love you and your soft thighs, so please be quiet and let me sleep.”

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gentrychild · 2 years ago

Note

If the ask game is still open: When Inko saw that the thief Takami was caught by Endeavor, she immediately went to look for her friend from the orphanage, Tomie.

1 - Tomie and Inko learned to sew together. The orphanage they were at wanted the children to acquire all the practical skills they could get and while every children learn to knit, Inko loved sewing and tailoring clothes while Tomie learned to embroider for fun. This is important because when the Takami thief was arrested, there was a patch of a very beautiful and very specific embroidery on his jacket. Since Tomie absolutely sucks at choosing romantic partners, Inko immediately realized that Tomie had moved in with a hitman. And not even a good one at that.

2 - She goes to the town where the Takami thief was found and wanders a bit until she finds Tomie and a five-year-old in the streets. Tomie tells her that her honey was arrested. The child is barefoot. Inko buys him Endeavor sneakers (they are cheap and good quality and he is incredibly happy about it) then brings everyone in her tiny apartment. Baby Keigo is the perfect roommate who cleans the apartment, catches birds and tries too cook them and Inko keeps telling him that no, it's not necessary. Tomie is not and Inko, fed up, tells her to GET A HOLD OF HERSELF. When Tomie asks her if Inko is going to kick her out if she doesn't, Inko tells her that no, she is going to kick Tomie's ass. Tomie 100% believes her, leaves, and she comes back in the evening, she announces that she had found a job and that she is going to pay half of the rent and some of the grocery bills now.

3 - Inko heavily suspects that Tomie's new job is absolutely not legal but she is poor and doesn't care much about illegality. It happens that Tomie is making a lot of money and she expects her to move out in the next week but Tomie is finding out what it's like to live with someone actually nice to her, is nice to her son, and let's be honest, Inko is an excellent cook. However, about a week later, some strange woman with a bullet wound in her stomach breaks into her home and passes out in Inko's bathroom. When the HPSC comes knocking to ask them if they have seen the awful sniper hero who killed the HPSC President, Inko throws a crocheted blanket over Kaina's limp form and lies through her teeth because she doesn't trust the government.

4 - They take a bigger apartment because Kaina also doesn't leave. Inko wonders if she is turning into one of those crazy cat ladies but with people technically on the run from the law. Tomie is still working as a very efficient look-out for criminals. Kaina isn't killing anyone lately but she acts as security detail for people who also work in the underworld. Inko has finished her studies but found out that there are more money to be made making reinforced clothes for the black market than hero costumes in the hero industry. Keigo is so happy that his mom is happy and that her aunts love him. (Aunt Inko even chased a HPSC recruiter with a slipper on two city blocks!)

5 - I will pass over the fact that Inko got a fling with a guy that turned out to be the boogeyman of the underworld, that Tomie and Kaina will never live it down and that Keigo cried the first time he saw Izuku because of how tiny and squishy he was. Instead, I am just going to say that their new neighbor moved in with her children in the apartment next door but her eldest accidentally burned the wall separating their homes down. At first, they put a curtain but soon, Himura Rei and her kids joined the little tribe.

#5 headcanons game #closed ask game

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butler-on-beale-street · 2 years ago

Text

Caterpillar, Caterpillar | Dad!Elvis X Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Elvis woke up early this morning and noticed the grass growing far too tall to ignore. Of course he decides to take it into his own hands and handle it on his own...but he needs partner in crime, of course!

It was early in the morning and the sun had just crested the horizon, spraying the earth in a blast of warm light. Moisture was evident in the air, the blades of grass dancing despite being weighed down by a layer of dew. The gargantuan oak trees loomed over Graceland in dignified whimsy, while flocks of birds chattered from within the boughs.

“Now baby,” Elvis said, perched on his John Deere beside his daughter. “They say ya shouldn’t cut grass early in the morning or after it rains, but it’s gettin’ so high that we just gotta take care of it.” Mallory sat beside her father, looking around at the lawn below, watching dragonflies and bees landing on the glistening blades of grass, drinking up the drops of water.

“Daddy,” Mallory asked, her tone pitched high. She swung her head up to her father. “Why isn’t Mr. Bill cutting the grass?” Her eyes were full of innocence, and it was true that Bill Laurie was hired for groundskeeping, but Elvis had given him a month off to be with his family. Little Mallory didn’t know–she was too young to understand–but his wife, Deborah, was diagnosed with terminal cancer in June.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with hard work, baby girl,” He said, picking his daughter up and placing her on his knee. “Sometimes it’s a good thing to do hard work by yourself and for yourself. Like yesterday when Mama let you make your own peanut butter and banana sandwich. Remember?” He lowered his head, bending to kiss her on the cheek as he spoke. She nodded proudly.

“Mmhmm!” She agreed, sitting up perfectly straight with her hands on her hips. “All by myself!”

Elvis chuckled softly. “I bet it tasted even better than normal, didn’t it?” He asked.

“It was so yummy daddy! Mommy let me put sprinkles on it!” Her pigtails flopped about her face as she shook her head. She giggled freely about nothing and everything at the same time, the sunlight illuminating the hues of color within her hair.

“Sprinkles?” He asked, his eyes widening. “Mama’s spoilin’ you…I won’t be able to keep up soon.” He adjusted his daughter in his lap, and he pushed the seat of the tracker closer to the steering wheel. “Hang on, Sweets.”

Elvis rode the tractor with one hand and held his daughter with the other, taking laps around the yard, most definitely digging deep tire marks into the ground. He rounded the trees slowly, pointing at the squirrels running up and down the trees, foraging for food. He reached to pick up caterpillars, slowly inching along on their journey.

“Ooooh!” Mallory cooed, reaching out her little hand to take the bug from her father.

“Now, now baby.” Elvis said, pulling his hand away from her. “Remember, this is a living animal. It deserves love and kindness too, right?” He said, returning his hand closer to her. She nodded slowly. “Take your little finger and pet the little guy. Softly now.”

He watched as Mallory stuck out her tiny pointer finger, running it gently down the back of the caterpillar as it inched along Elvis’s palm. She let out a high-pitched squeal, kicking and giggling. “Ew! He’s so squishy!” Elvis tightened his grip around his daughter. “I wanna touch him again!” Elvis brought his hand back to his daughter.

“One more time,” He said, allowing Mallory to pet the caterpillar once more. “How about we make a little song?” He asked, turning his head to look at her.

“I like songs, Daddy!” She responded slowly, her attention captivated by the creature in his hand.

“You do?” He asked rhetorically.

“Mmhmm!” She answered, her tone flitting upward at the end.

“Alright,” he said, pulling and adjusting Mallory higher on his knee. “How about something like this,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Caterpillar, caterpillar wigglin on a tree,

Well you’re the cutest bug I ever did see.

If I could, I would carry you in my pocket all day.

But soon you’ll be a butterfly,

And butterflies gotta fly away.”

He sang the tune in an improvised manner, using a familiar rhythm. The words came to him quickly, making him chuckle as he sang them. Mallory couldn’t help but copy her father, her little belly hitching in laughter.

“Try it with me now, baby.” He said in her ear.

“Caterpillar, caterpillar wigglin on a tree,” they began together, singing the song for all to hear as the tractor chugged softly in place. “And butterflies gotta fly away.”

“Daddy. I wanna be a butterfly,” Mallory said, watching Elvis place the tiny critter back on a low-hanging branch.

“So you can fly away from me?” He asked with a wide grin. She shook her head no. “See, I always wanted to fly. Don’t you think that would be fun?” He asked.

She smiled, her head craning toward the morning sky, watching sparrows flit out of the trees. “You could fly with me, Daddy!” She said, crawling her way to turn on Elvis’s knee to look up at him. He looked down at her, his lips pulled in a beautiful smile.

“I’ll always fly with you, Little ‘Lory. Where are we flying to?” He asked.

“Candy Land!” Mallory squealed, covering her face with her hands as she giggled.

“Candy Land? Whatcha want? Some lollipops?” he said, shooting his fingertips out at her little body, tickling her excitedly. She screeched as his hands flitted about her belly, feet, and knees. “Some gummy bears maybe?” He said again, continuing his attack. “I’m gonna eat your toes! Those are candy!” He said, reaching for her foot, pretending to eat her tiny feet.

“Daddy no!” She screamed, pushing her father away as best as she could.

“What are you two monkeys up to?” You asked, stepping into the yard, having heard them from the living room.

“I’m eating Lory's little feets!” Elvis said, bending to place several playful kisses on his daughters feet and legs as she giggled and squirmed.

“No!” She cried out, her hair whipping about her head.

“Mommy wants some too!” You said, stepping beside the stalled tractor. You bent down to your daughter’s level, lifting her shirt to spray raspberries on her belly. Mallory wiggled and kicked, throwing her head back in laughter.

“Baby, mow the lawn later. Can we just watch a movie? We only have two days left with you ‘till you leave for Palm Springs.” You were sure that you sounded whiny, at the same time, you really didn’t care. You wanted to be with your little family and savor the time you had together.

“Sure baby, but why don’t you just come with me? Stay at Ladera.” 1350 Ladera Circle was a beautiful sprawling Palm Springs home that Elvis had purchased two years ago while he was away filming. You loved being there, but you hadn’t prepared to stay this time.

“I haven’t gotten anything together,” You said, picking up mallory and hoisting her up on your hip as she reached out for you. Elvis helped lift her to you.

“That shouldn’t be an issue, baby. I could have you ready to go by tomorrow night and we could all fly out together. Daddy will take care of the house while we’re gone.” Elvis reasoned, turning the tractor off by the key in its ignition.

“You sure we wouldn’t be a distraction?” You asked, bouncing Mallory, who was rolling pieces of your hair around her fingers.

“You know I get lonely quick, Satnin,” Elvis said, standing up out of the tractor seat and hopping off of the machine. “Come with me. Please.” He bent to kiss you lovingly on your lips, rubbing the softness of your cheek with his thumb. “Your eye makeup looks beautiful. Keep it like that,” Elvis added, biting his bottom lip.

“Alrighty Little Lory, How about we fix up a little morning snack?Maybe you can show Daddy how to make one of your famous peanut butter and ‘nanner sandwiches, hm?” He hummed, tugging on her ear softly.

“Okay, Daddy!” She said, turning to bury her face playfully in your shirt.

“Come on, baby. We gotta get packed.” He said, taking your free hand. He leaned down to kiss you.

“You’re gonna leave that in the middle of the yard?” You asked, looking at the tractor.

Elvis shrugged. “Eh, I’ll mow later. I’ve got to take care of my girls first.” You grinned as he walked you back toward the house, Mallory continuing to ask you all sorts of questions about why you haven’t bought her a bunny rabbit or a big ole turtle yet.

“Baby, that’s a whole conversation for another day.”

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ahatintimepieces · 3 years ago

Text

Fabric Hearts

Remember the first part of that build-a-bear au I wrote for @smieska-draws? It’s back! But now the au name makes sense! Imagine!

Luka, known as the Snatcher to most of the mall locals, runs the Kraft-a-Kid while his daughter, Hattie, runs around with her friends. There’s definitely nothing suspicious about Luka. The rumors that he snatches the souls of children and stuffs them into the dolls are completely unfounded. Probably. Most likely. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s fine.

This is, of course, another au that Smieska and I both developed and like to swap ideas for SO send her your love and adulation because I couldn’t have written this without her ;o; <333 Here’s the link to the piece she did for first part if you haven’t seen it yet (which u should because it’s fabulous and incredible). Without further ado, here it is!

Words: 4,131

The door squeaked open as Luka recorded the number of tiny, elastic collars with bright bells in the back.

“Dimitri can’t make it today,” he warned without looking up from his clipboard. His golden gaze flickered up towards the boxes filled with cotton stuffing and he quickly counted them as footsteps approached. “If you get a sudden influx of customers, come grab me.”

“It’s me, Dad,” Hattie’s voice came from right beside him.

“Did I stutter?” He glanced down without missing a beat. She gave him a deadpan stare as he grinned. His sharp canines glinted in the unnaturally bright florescent lights. “Come on, kiddo. How about you help me with my business endeavors instead of frittering away your summer romping around the mall?”

She readjusted the brim of the top hat she made from her millinery lessons at the fabric store. Why his child fixated on hat-making out of everything she could have taken an interest in was beyond him but even he had to admit her royal purple top hat was well crafted.

“I’m going with Belle and the others to get lunch at the food court,” she said, ignoring his jesting. “Can I have money?”

“You know if you had a job you wouldn’t need to be asking me,” he lamented dramatically before wedging the clipboard between his arm and side. He reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his slacks.

“I’m not even twelve.” She blinked up at him with large blue eyes. “There are child labor laws.”

“Excellent.” He nodded, opening his wallet. “Don’t let anyone in the mall convince you otherwise. But,” he slipped out a bill and gave her a pointed look, “if you accept this, you have to do me a favor.”

“I already cleaned the bathrooms last weekend,” she whined.

His grin widened.

“Tough luck, kiddo.” He twisted the bill in the air, watching her nose scrunch as she seriously weighed her options. After a second of letting her think that she was going to have to do her least favorite chore, he extended the bill towards her. “Just bring me back a coffee and I’ll consider us even.”

Relief instantly flooded her features as she took the bill.

“I can do that! Your usual?” She headed towards the door.

“That’ll work,” he said, tucking away his wallet and grabbing the clipboard again.

“Thanks, Dad!” she chirped before moving to open the door.

Just as she reached for it, the door swung open, and she stumbled back. Luka immediately dropped the clipboard and slipped behind her with the speed of shadows dodging the light. She smacked into his legs, and he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder as Alex walked in with wide eyes.

“I’m so sorry, kid! I didn’t see you there.” Alex winced, looking from Hattie to Luka’s hard glare.

“I’m fine!” Hattie promised, giving a bright smile until she placed her hand over Luka’s fingers. She jolted and twisted around. “Dad, are you okay? You’re really warm.”

“It is hot in here.” Alex tugged at their collar, wincing.

“The thermostat dial was probably nudged,” Luka dismissed, pulling away and stooping to grab the clipboard. “I’ll take a look.”

“Should I get you water?” Hattie asked.

“I have water. Now go have fun.” He shooed her towards the door. “The sooner you leave the sooner you can run my errand.”

Hattie hesitated but when he returned to his task of recording inventory, he heard her retreating footsteps.

“Sorry,” Alex muttered as they crossed over to the table for the employees. They dropped their backpack before grabbing the light purple apron with their nametag.

“Let’s just be careful with how forcefully we open doors, hm? I don’t want to deal with any workplace liability cases. They’re a pain.” Luka shot the teen a toothy grin. Glancing back down to the clipboard, he added in a more monotone cadence, “Anyway, Dimitri can’t come today, so once Ember leaves, it’ll just be you and me for the rest of the day. If it gets too crowded on the floor and I’m not around, come find me.”

“Right.” They nodded firmly. While wiping back their bangs and smearing the beads of sweat on their brow, they hurried out. Once the door closed behind them and Luka was alone, he let out a sigh.

The flame that had flared when Hattie nearly got hit crackled noisily in his otherwise empty chest. Luka placed one of his pale hands over the flame and counted out the seconds between metered inhales and exhales. The snap and pop of embers faded and when he glanced towards the thermostat, the temperature in the room lowered back to a comfortable range.

Not that he was bothered by the heat, but he didn’t need his employees passing out.

Ember’s shift ended as he got to counting the unstuffed plush shells. As she hung her apron over the hook, she informed him that two separate groups had just entered the store. Luka nodded, finishing his current count before getting ready to help Alex on the floor.

He brushed back his long, spiky hair into a ponytail. Stray strands the color of soot fluttered against his cheek, and he tucked them behind his ear.

They reflected a warm violet when they caught the light.

With his hair as contained as he could manage, he grabbed his own amethyst apron with the Kraft-a-Kid’s signature logo; a stylized baby goat and parent goat waving a friendly greeting. After draping it over his black suit and making sure it didn’t displace his dark purple tie, he tied the apron with nimble fingers, clawed at the tips. He double-checked that the pocket had extra thread and a compact sewing kit before he clipped on his name tag and headed out into the workshop.

Alex snapped their head up from one of the stuffing stations, looking relieved when they spotted Luka rounding the counter. Alex returned their full attention to the small girl and her mother while Luka smiled at the two teens with a younger child hovering by the bins of unstuffed shells by the entrance.

While he didn’t know them personally, he recognized Brooke and her younger sister Hali, who worked (or in Hali’s case just hovered around in the back when not at daycare) at their uncle’s travel agency, and then Makoto, who worked at the jewelry store. Judging from their uniforms, the teens were probably using their breaks to accompany Hali. Since he often heard good things about their work ethic and Hali’s sweet nature from Mari, he assumed he had an easy session ahead. He waved them over.

Brooke and Makoto shared a nervous look while Hali bounded over with a bright smile.

“Why, hello there!” Luka pasted on his most vibrant customer service smile as he lowered onto the seat by the stuffing station. Cotton and soft fibers filled the glass tank decorated to look like hearty trees and branches climbed around the edges. The machine itself matched the lilac walls and brown and bronze gears that decorated them. The bins and shelves that held the merchandise throughout the store were all structured to look like spools of golden thread.

Holding an unstuffed goat with dark brown fuzz and silver horns, Hali shyly smiled up at Luka as Brooke and Makoto slowly joined.

“I see you’ve picked your new friend!” Luka held out his hands and Hali gingerly lowered the flat goat into his palms. “Before we bring them to life, how stuffed do you want them to be?”

“Um?” Hali tilted her head with a blank expression.

“Do you want them to be firm or squishy?” Luka clarified, fitting the goat around the nozzle and getting his foot ready over the pedal.

“Fiwm, pwease!” Hali declared in a cutesy voice.

“Excellent choice!” Luka set to work, pumping the pedal as he filled out the head of the goat plush. The machine roared to life, blowing air and fluff with the force of a vacuum. Though, his ears perked when he caught Brooke and Makoto in an intense discussion as they remained a couple steps back. What he couldn’t hear over the machine, he pieced together easily enough.

He knew the rumors and could guess what was on their mind when they mentioned the Snatcher and stolen souls.

Luka smirked as he pulled his foot from the pedal and the machine hushed.

“Now it’s time for my favorite part.” He beamed, pulling off the firmly stuffed goat and then reaching for a bucket full of small felt hearts. “The soul ceremony! Go ahead and pick the heart that most resonates with you.”

“If it’s just a heart, why is it called a soul ceremony?” Brooke asked, her voice quivering as she pressed closer to Makoto.

Hali, meanwhile, was completely enraptured with picking out the right fabric heart.

“Hearts, souls, same thing, really,” Luka soothed with a toothy grin, giving the teens a considering look.

Makoto’s gaze flickered down to his fangs. She lifted her chin, trying to project an air of confidence. But her furrowed brows wavered.

“Souws awe heawts?” Hali gasped, looking up with awe.

“Absolutely!” Luka kept his voice cheerful, gesturing to the bucket. “It’s what gives your new friend life! I imagine without one, they would feel pretty empty and hollow.” Keeping his chin tilted down, he lifted his eyes towards the teens and lowered his voice just a touch. “Wouldn’t you feel pretty soulless without a heart?”

The two stiffened.

“Pwobabwy!” Hali chirped, completely unaware of their increasing unease. She dug around the hearts and pursed her lips. “How do woo know which heawt is the best?”

“That’s up to you!” Luka bounced effortlessly back into an upbeat cadence. He pinched a heart with a checkerboard pattern in red and white. “The nice thing about these hearts is that they’re blank slates. They’ll be filled with whatever you put into them. But don’t put in too much!” he added with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t want your new friend to be more you than you!”

Brooke squeaked in fright and his grin stretched.

“I wiwl take this one, then!” Hali held up a solid red heart.

“Great! Hold on to it, now.” Luka placed the tub back down. “First, why don’t you rub the heart on your hair so your little buddy will always have soft fur!”

Hali beamed at that and rubbed the fabric heart on her hair. When she pulled it back down, some of the blond strands followed the heart while the strands too far away stuck up from the lingering static.

“Well done! Now, rub it against your funny bone so your friend has a sense of humor.” Luka tapped his elbow when Hali crinkled her nose for a moment. Her eyes lit up in understanding and once the heart was granted good humor, Luka added, “and why don’t you strike a superhero pose, so that your pal will hold courage.”

Hali giggled as she placed her hands on her hips and preened.

“Fantastic. Lastly, I want you to rub the heart between your palms!” Luka motioned for her to mimic him as he demonstrated. “Now, when it’s nice and warm, give it a clap to start its heartbeat!”

The clap resounded through the workshop and the teens jolted behind her.

“That should do it,” Luka praised, holding out his palm. Hali handed the heart over, and he slipped it into the goat, tucking it snuggly away in the cotton and fluff.

He then set to filling out the rest of the plush. Once it was stiff and sturdy, he handed it to her, asking if she was content with it. When he received an enthusiastic nod, he took it back and sealed the hole. He snipped the extra thread with the scissors in his apron and then passed the goat back to Hali.

“Here’s your new friend! Be sure to visit our shop in the back! We have plenty of accessories and outfits for the newest member of your family,” Luka recited the same sales pitch as always. “Once you’re ready, head over to an open kiosk so you can fill out the adoption papers. If you need any help, Alex or I will be overjoyed to assist.”

“Thank woo!” Hali hurried over to the accessories, hugging the goat to her chest.

Luka clasped his hands and turned to the teens. When his gaze flickered to the floppy hooded doll in Makoto’s arms, her embrace tightened.

“Ready?” He motioned for her to hand it over so that he could stuff it.

She looked to Brooke, who shrugged with uncertainty. Makoto stepped forward.

Keeping his tone light, he went through the same script as always. He asked if she wanted the doll to be firm or squishy and, in an effort to loosen her up a bit, offered to add any fun sound boxes or scents to the plush. She remained on edge until he asked about the nametag on her uniform as the machine roared to life again. She explained how her boss liked to give everyone themed nicknames and she was saddled with “Makoneko.” When he asked if she appreciated the nickname, she pointedly rolled her eyes as he removed his foot from the machine pedal again. Her shoulders relaxed when he chuckled.

“Your turn to pick a heart,” Luka twittered in an overly cheerful voice as he held out the bucket.

“Do I have to do the ceremony?” Makoto hesitated, plucking the first heart she saw. Rather than scared, her bored expression mirrored that of many teens who wanted to skip the step.

Perfect.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He shrugged casually. “What is a heart without a heartbeat? A soul without a person behind the personality?”

“What?” She faltered, shoulders slowly stiffening again as Brooke’s eyes widened.

“I only mean it’ll be a sorry existence for this little friend.” Luka waved the stubby hands of the purple plush toy. “And you get out what you put in.” Her brows dipped in slight confusion, and he smirked. “You have to at least start its heartbeat. You don’t want to bring a ghost home, do you?”

“Just do the ceremony!” Brooke hissed through clenched teeth.

“F-fine,” Makoto said, slowly lifting the heart to her long black locks. “So, hair for soft fur?”

“Does it look like this one has fur?” Luka gestured to the doll with the yellow spiral in its hood. He scoffed, turning up his nose. “Of course not! No. First, why don’t you rub the heart against your belly so that it’s full of laughter.”

“I thought that was the elbow.” Makoto crinkled her nose. Though she rubbed the heart against her stomach, eager to get it over with.

“There is a difference between telling good jokes and laughing at them, kiddo,” Luka offered with a smirk. “Now, how about you jump up and down a few times? I’m sure your friend would love to share some of your energy.”

“What does that mean?” She jolted.

“Just that exercise keeps the heart healthy,” Luka said placidly.

Her eyes narrowed but she eventually gave a sluggish skip.

“Then, rub it against your ear, so it will always listen.” He smiled brightly, being sure to bare his teeth. Once she complied, he clasped his hands together. “I’m sure you know what to do now! Warm it between your palms and then clap to start the heartbeat!”

She let out the breath that she had been holding, relieved it was finally over. She gave a small clap before passing the heart back. He slipped it into the doll.

“Any names in mind for your friend?” Luka prompted as his foot tapped the pedal.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled curtly, purposefully trying to let the whirling air in the stuffing machine drown out her answer.

“How’s this feel?” he asked a few seconds later when the machine hushed again. He pulled the doll from the nozzle and passed it back to her.

“Good.” She returned it after assessing the squishiness.

“If you haven’t got any names, I always thought these particular dolls looked like minions,” he prattled, closing the seam. When she didn’t respond, he continued lightly, “so Minion might be a good name.” He glanced up to meet her gaze and lowered his tone. “You did make sure it’ll listen. It’ll be an obedient little kiddo.”

Her breath hitched.

“Obedient to who?” she challenged, maintaining a fragile glare.

“All done!” Luka snapped upright after snipping the excess thread, pretending he hadn’t heard her question. “Welcome your friend into the world!”

Makoto accepted the doll, her gaze flickering between it and Luka with uncertainty.

“Same as always,” he droned in his peppy, customer service voice. “Browse to your contentment. My daughter recommends the plush purple cherries. You want to keep your buddy happy and fed! Make sure to finalize the adoption and meet Alex or I by the counter.” He glanced over to find the other young girl with her mother already at the cash register. “Looks like it’ll be Alex!”

Makoto nodded numbly as Brooke stepped forward and looped her arm through hers, rescuing Makoto by tugging her away.

“One more thing,” Luka began, keeping his eyes on his clean-up routine. The teens’ footsteps paused as they hovered. Though his smile laced his voice, his enunciation was sharp. “I’m sure the Snatcher doesn’t have to tell you but be sure to treat your new friend as you would yourself. You put your soul into bringing them to life, after all.”

The teens gasped.

“Have a good day, kids.” Laughter laced his voice.

They rushed away as he chuckled.

While he finished cleaning up, Hattie returned with her friends. As soon as she spotted him behind the stuffing machine, she rushed across the tiles decorated to look vaguely like a forest path.

“Here’s your coffee,” she chirped, holding up the cup.

“Any plans for the rest of the day?” he asked, pushing to his feet and picking stray fluff from his apron. Once he was as clean as he was going to get, he accepted the drink. He held it towards his lips, pausing to quirk a brow at young Muriel and Timmy as they passed the stuffing machines to check out all the colorful outfits. Belle, meanwhile, joined Hattie with her azure bow bouncing in her dark coils.

“We’re going to head to the bookstore.” Hattie shrugged. “Tim’s friend is hosting a card game tournament.”

“Remember to be back by six,” he instructed. “Don’t go snacking after four or you’ll spoil your dinner.”

“I know, Dad,” she huffed dramatically.

“Also, Mom says hi, Mr. Kingsley,” Belle pipped in.

“Tell Mari I return the sentiment. Now get your friends to stop loitering.” He turned back towards Hattie and rose his voice so Timmy and Mu could hear. “They scare away customers.”

“Says the Snatcher,” Timmy whispered to Mu.

Luka covered his smirk with the coffee cup. His gaze shifted over Hattie and Belle and he watched as Makoto and Brooke fled the store at a brisk pace. Hali struggled to keep up, but she managed to meet his eyes and offered a cheerful wave.

“Fine,” Hattie sighed. “Come on, guys!”

“I need to stop by Mom’s before we head to the bookstore,” Belle mentioned as she and Hattie turned to leave. “I left my cards with my backpack.”

As the girls left, Luka turned to head back towards the counter, taking a sip of his coffee. He immediately winced.

“Ugh, tepid,” he grumbled as Timmy and Mu ran past, hurrying out to follow Hattie and Belle.

After making sure the kids all had their backs turned and Alex was busy with something on the counter, Luka summoned a gentle ember to his hand. While the flame harmlessly licked the cup, the coffee warmed inside until steam wafted from the hole in the lid. He took a tentative sip and swallowed the scalding liquid.

The flames in his chest crackled and popped, and the knots in his shoulders eased.

He snuffed out the ember in his hand as he lowered the cup. Mist trailed from the lid as the coffee maintained its heat.

“I think you scarred those two for life,” Alex muttered as Luka returned to the counter.

“Which two?” he asked, mind still on Hattie and her friends.

“Brooke and Makoto.” Alex glanced up, shaking their head with a scolding expression.

“I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary,” Luka said calmly. He leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee during his momentary break. “If those hooligans are letting their imaginations run wild, it’s not on my conscience.”

“Uh-huh.” Alex gave him an unimpressed look. “Also, I think we’re running low on the beach ball accessories.”

“I noticed,” Luka muttered, swirling his cup pensively. “Those aren’t particularly popular, and we are getting near the end of the season…”

While they discussed whether they needed to send out an order or if they would make it until the fall selection came out, Hattie rolled on the balls of her feet as she, Timmy, and Mu waited for Belle to return from her mom’s flower shop just across from Kraft-a-Kid. Hattie idly watched all the mallgoers, thoughts blank, but Timmy and Mu had their eyes locked on Kraft-a-Kid, thoughts whirling noisier than the stuffing machines.

“Okay, I’m ready!” Belle announced as she bounced out with her deck of cards.

“Hattie.” Timmy whirled around. “Your dad’s magic!”

“Timmy, he doesn’t steal souls, we’ve been over this,” Hattie whined, crossing her arms.

“If he doesn’t steal souls, then what’s with his coffee?” Mu snapped, nodding her head towards the display window where Luka could be seen leaning against the counter inside the workshop.

Hattie squinted, trying to figure out what was out of place with the steaming coffee cup. After a moment, she turned to Belle, who shrugged.

“It’s hot!” Mu gestured wildly, causing her blond mustache to bob with her movement. “Look at that steam!”

Hattie blinked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Belle supplied dryly. “Because Hattie ordered it hot.”

“But he said it was tepid!” Timmy argued. “We heard him!”

“He probably thinks it is,” Hattie said, knitting her brows together. “He likes his coffee hot enough to burn his tastebuds.”

“You aren’t getting it!” Mu huffed. “It wasn’t steaming when he said it was cold!”

“Okay, but even if he somehow heated it up, that didn’t have anything to do with stealing souls,” Belle appeased.

“That’s what we mean!” Timmy urged. “If he can use one type of magic, he can use others!”

“I regret the day I told you about those rumors,” Hattie grumbled.

It didn’t matter as much when strangers said it, but instead of laughing with Hattie when she told them that people thought her dad was some kind of heartless, soul-snatching monster, Mu and Timmy had latched onto the conspiracy and ever since refused to let go. She couldn’t talk about new product plushies or designs around them anymore because they would just start a debate about which shell would best hold the souls of children.

“Look can we just get going?” She started walking in the direction of the bookstore and Belle matched her pace. Mu hurried to catch up as Timmy trailed behind, keeping a watchful eye on Kraft-a-Kid.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen anything weird?” Mu insisted. “Heard any screams of children he caught? Seen any dolls move in the corner of your eye?”

“You know he laughs like a cartoon villain?” Timmy added.

“The store is literally called Kraft-a-Kid!” Mu continued. “Open your eyes, Hattie!”

“Kid is just another word for baby goat!” Belle argued. “It’s cute!”

“We aren’t talking about this anymore!” Hattie snapped, tugging down on the brim of her hat. She turned away from them and focused on Belle. “So, what deck are you using? The one with fairy types? Or your cat themed one?”

“Both!” She grinned mischievously as she happily helped to redirect the conversation. “I combined them because I wanted to use all my favorites. How about you?”

“Going with the forest deck.” Hattie glanced up, where her deck was safely tucked away in the hidden compartment she stitched into the top hat.

Timmy and Mu huffed, letting their argument go as they pipped in with talking about their own decks. But it was only a matter of time before they started back on their theories about her dad’s supposed magic. Trying not to deflate too much, she kept her eyes forward. She swallowed her frustration and focused on the upcoming tournament.

Besides, even if her dad did have magic and only used it for heating up coffee, it hardly seemed something a heartless monster would do.

Right?

#a hat in time #ahit snatcher #ahit prince #ahit hat kid #ahit dadtcher #my writing #build-a-bear au #'im gonna take a break'#*proceeds to post exactly one day after the old posting schedule #im still writing lol just gonna be all over the place for a bit #ALSO FINALLY WROTE THIS #ITS BEEN ON MY MIND FOR FOREVER #ITS JUST REALLY FUNNY TO ME TO IMAGINE SNATCHER RUNNING A BUILD A BEAR PLEEEEEEASE #i have one more short thing for this that addresses the heart-shaped hole in the room and then u might find me #ricocheting around other aus like a pinball #anyway that's all for now #thank you so much for reading as always!!!!!#catch ya later!

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in-tua-deep · 4 years ago

Note

au where five found out about vanya's powers in the apocalypse? Like maybe he found Reggie's book or he saw the eyes of vanya's corpse?

oh man like. that would be interesting to be sure, if Five managed to find Reginald’s book in the apocalypse

(He doesn’t read it at first, not for a few months after he finds it. He opened to the page that detailed Reginald’s experiments with how long Deigo could hold his breath in clinical unfeeling words and has to put it away while he breathed - not too deeply though, he didn’t want to breathe in more ash than necessary)

But he eventually does. He sits Dolores up and rages and vents to her, cursing Reginald’s name with every new sordid detail, every new terrible sin he now knows to hurl at Reginald’s feet. He reads no great loss under his section and he’s too dehydrated to weep but something breaks inside his chest nevertheless

(He’d never thought that dad loved them, not really. He might have hoped, back when he was little but he knew better now. He was thirteen, old enough to know better. But he’d at least thought that dad found them useful.

Five had tried to hard, trained so much, been so adaptable. Even then he was no great loss.)

Five finds out from Reginald’s book about Ben’s death. Cold words that describe the way his brother died. Reginald seemed to care more about Ben’s death than Five’s presumed death, but that could be becuase Ben’s power was always bigger than Five’s. More violent. More efficient. Of course Ben was a greater loss, Five’s power wasn’t even inherently useful for fighting.

(Klaus’s power wasn’t useful for fighting either. Reading Dad’s dismissive words calling Klaus a failure makes him bristle. Reading about Reginald locking Klaus away in the mausoleum for days make Five want to hurl the book against the wall.)

Finding out about Vanya is - it’s weird. Vanya was always so ordinary. He loved her of course, for fucks sake he was the only one who cared to interact with her half the time. He loves all of his siblings but he has no illusions about how casually cruel they could be to one another.

But he reads about her powers and clenches his fists and wonders what Reginald would have done if Five had stayed, if Five had kept on his path of rebellion. Would Reginald have drugged him, too?

(Reginald had the power to take their powers away. Five wonders what Klaus thought when he found out, if he had cursed and sworn and raged at the man who watched his son suffer and turn to drugs to deal with seeing things no child should ever see. Reginald had the power to help, and he tortured Klaus instead.)

Because - of course Five assumes that they know. He reads Vanya’s books as well when he comes across it, tucking it into his wagon. He wonders when the truth came out, because the rage that drips from those pages is very real. Vanya doesn’t mention her powers in the book of course, but she would have been what, in her 20s when she wrote it?

Vanya said in her book that she left home at 18, which means she’s had years to get the drugs out of her system and discover what their father had taken from her. Did she think that they knew? That they had kept it from her? Is that why the pages of her book drip with bone deep hurt, making Five’s fingers shake with the ache of them

(Or it could be the hunger, a now constant companion)

Five keeps both books close, even though he wants to vandilize Reginald’s book half the time. It’s strange to see the insight on them and their powers from the perspective of a scientist, odd to see the written results of the torture they went though

(He almost rips the page on the effects of electricity on his warping powers out on principle, but he just ends up curled around Dolores as he trembles involuntarily at the memories)

Five has so few belongings when he is recruited to the Commission, or at least has very few personal ones. He leaves Dolores behind in the apocalypse with a heavy heart but she’s too big to take with him. Too big to hide.

(Five always learned to only take what you can hide, because what you can’t hide will always be used against you.)

He tucks Reginald’s notebook in the waistband on his pants, the hard edges against his back a constant almost reassuring pressure. Vanya’s book gets pushed into one of his deep pockets. The glass eye gets shoved into his sock the same way he used to hide scavenged bills and quarters he would then place beneath the floorboards of his room

(He wonders absently if his money stash was ever found, but it doesn’t really matter now does it?)

He goes through the Commission with the knowledge that he has a bomb hidden away. As much as he keeps the notebook around out of a sense of sentiment he knows he doesn’t want it to fall into the hands of the commission, doesn’t want them to have this dissection of his powers on hand

(he has so little of his siblings left, just the bitter words of Reginald and Vanya both - the irony is that no matter how much Vanya extolled being excluded she had constantly been by Reginald’s side to write down observations, listening to his words, by his side more than any of them. sometimes he reads Vanya’s vicious words and hears the echo of their father in them. It makes sense. He still hates it, just a little bit)

He writes his equations into Vanya’s book instead of Reginald’s. He doesn’t like to read the red book, only opens it to look at the photos included so that he won’t forget what his siblings look like, tries to ignore the words that detail exactly how much force it takes to pop Luther’s bones out of his oh-so-durable joints

He solves them one day, or at least comes close. Closer than he ever had before, and he figures why not? Time for another little experiment. Who knows? Maybe he’ll add this one to dad’s book.

He pushes, and pushes, and then he falls and he’s in a courtyard he hasn’t seen in decades staring at people he hasn’t spoken to in just as long. He looks at them all with wide eyes

(He looks at Allison and hears his father’s clipped tone stating how Allison in improving at overriding survival instincts, he looks at Luther and hears Vanya’s childish voice accusing him of caring more about being a hero than anything else in his life, including his family, he looks at Klaus and sees a face covered in ash and blood with unseeing eyes)

He looks down at himself and sees smaller hands with smoother skin, absent of the burn marks from the variety of fires he’d set in the apocalypse, absent of the crooked knuckles from when he’d crushed two fingers in some rubble trying to get to a can of food, absent of the cracked and brittle nails from malnutrition and food issues

“Shit.” He says, with feeling.

He can feels the press of the glass eye against his leg, the solid weight of Vanya’s book in his pocket, the edges of Reginald’s notebook digging into his skin as he hauls himself off the ground and into a standing position.

They have a family meeting in the kitchen.

Sort of. Five flits about, snagging bread and peanut butter and marshmallow fluff from the cupboard to make himself a sandwich, trying to avoid looking too desperately eager. He hasn’t had his favorite food in so long that the anticipation is actually insane.

“What’s the date?” Five asks, and learns that he doesn’t actually have all that long until the end of the world. But hey, it’s doable. Probably. Unless the reason the world ended was like, political nuclear war or something? But there would probably be survivors of that somewhere, so it was more likely something bigger scale.

(It has to be something he can stop, or this was all for nothing. He refuses to believe he doesn’t have a chance.)

“Cool, so like, the world is ending.” Five says, because why the fuck not? He has all his siblings in one room (except Ben, he has failed Ben, will always have failed Ben because he’s a coward who couldn’t return to a time when Reginald Hargreeves was alive) and he has Reginald and Vanya’s words pressed into his brain, “We have eight-ish days to fix that.”

“Five, what the hell are you talking about?” Luther demands.

Five waves his hand, “Dad sucked, I time-travelled, the end is nigh. I figured even you could grasp that.”

(His eyes ghost over Luther, skittering about the room. He can’t look at Luther’s body without remembering the cruel diagrams pain stakingly inked into the book as Reginald grumbled about failed experiments.)

“You went to the future?” Diego says, voice full of doubt that make his voice harsh. It’s so much deeper than when Five left, no more of the cracks of puberty.

“No shit.” Five says, and he’s so tired. “I was in that hellscape for forty-five years.”

“Forty-five years?” Diego squawks, as though he’s personally offended.

“That would make you... fifty-eight?” Luther’s voice also has doubt in it, and Five can’t really blame him looking at his squishy little barely teenage body.

“Dad was right,” Five manages to get out without gritting his teeth, “Time travel is a crapshoot and sometimes your body does fun and wacky things on you, blah blah blah trees and acorns.”

“Prove you’re from the future!” Klaus demands, eyes bright as he leans across the table, “What’re the lotto numbers, baby brother?”

“I think they’re ‘fuck you the world had already ended by the time I ended up stuck there,’ Klaus.” Five says, mock thoughtfully before tearing off a chunk of his sandwich.

It tastes like ash and peanut butter. Only Five’s genuine trauma regarding food waste and the fact that most things tasted like ash in the apocalypse have him still chewing his food and swallowing.

“Rude.” Klaus says, making a ‘blat’ noise in disappointment.

“Dad’s rich as fuck, wasn’t him kicking the bucket essentially like winning the lottery?” Five points out, and this time it is Luther squawking at him in disapproval.

“Don’t talk about Dad like that!” He demands, and Five has some more uncharitable thoughts about the way Luther’s arms flex just a little unnaturally underneath that big trenchcoat.

“I like this version of Five better.” Klaus declares, looking like Christmas has come early.

“Dad was murdered and you guys don’t even care.” Luther spits out, looking very offended.

“You were murdered and I care very much about that.” Five retaliates, and the entire kitchen goes quiet.

“Can you elaborate a little, Five?” Allison says, ever the diplomat.

(That’s a lie. Allison started more fights than Diego, probably. She just got caught way less often.)

“Well. I mean, I dunno if murdered is the right word considering everyone was dead. You might have just been collateral damage, who knows? Does murder imply intent?”

“Everyone was dead?” Vanya says, voice very quiet.

Five shrugs, then nods, then shrugs again. He doesn’t like thinking about it. “Yeah, but that’s not going to happen this time.”

“I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Luther mutters, and Five valiantly tries to ignore him.

“Five, are you - are you sure you’re alright?” Vanya’s voice wobbles and she looks like she wants to reach out and hold him or something ridiculous like that. She looks at him with big sad brown eyes, “Dad did say that time travel could... mess with you a little.”

Allison nods and oh, Five does not have time for this bullshit.

“I have proof.” He says, and he reaches back and pulls out Reginald’s red notebook and slams it onto the table.

“Is that Dad’s - ” Luther cuts himself off, looking at the notebook with wide eyes.

It is very clearly beaten up to hell and back. Ash has stained the edges of the pages grey and there may or may not be a gouge across the front from a near miss with a bullet while working at the commission. It is a book that has clearly been through hell.

Five also dig’s Vanya’s equally beaten up book from his pocket to dump on the table as well, equally stained with ash and barely held together after being read over and over again for decades, including being used as a notebook in the final years.

(Vanya lets out a little gasp, hand flying up to her mouth with the knowledge that at least one of her siblings read her book. Certainly not the one she thought it would be.)

Five reaches into his sock to pull out the glass eye triumphantly, setting it down on his small stack of treasures.

“What the fuck?” Diego is the one to ask.

“If I time travelled from that day in 2002 to right now, how the fuck would I have Vanya’s book?” Five says triumphantly, “It came out in 2015.”

“Why do you have an eye?” Allison sounds slightly horrified.

“It’s the key to figuring out who caused the apocalypse.” Five says, turning it over in his hands, “It’s gotta have something to do with it at least.”

“Why does he have Dad’s notebook?” Luther demands, sounding equally outraged.

“Found it.” Five shrugs, like the little scavenger he is.

(Emphasis on little. His suit still almost fits, and reading the numbers in Reginald’s notebook versus seeing how fucking tall all his siblings got in person is frankly unfair.)

“Oh my god, okay.” Allison says, throwing her hands up in the air like they’re all nuisances. It’s a familiar Allison look, and Five actually feels a little soothed by the memory. “So the world is ending, Five is back from the dead, and our only clue is a goddamn eye?”

“I was never dead.” Five points out, “But basically, yeah.”

“I don’t have time for this, I have to get back to my daughter.” Allison says, shaking her head.

“I mean if you want Claire to live I would think stopping the apocalypse would kind of be a priority.”

This draw Allison to a halt from where she’d been gathering herself to leave, “You... know her name?”

Five makes the executive decision to not mention the torn out magazine cover featuring his sister and niece that is pressed between some of the pages in Reginald’s journal. “I’d like to meet her one day.”

Just like that, Allison has been won over.

“Do you think it has something to do with whoever murdered Dad?” Luther asks seriously, even if the question makes Diego groan like this is an argument they have had before.

“Who knows?” Five shrugs, “But if we’re splitting into investigation teams, I call Vanya.”

Vanya startles from where she has been sitting quietly, “Me?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” Five nods, “I mean, with Ben gone you’re probably the team’s heaviest hitter.”

“What?” Several voices ring out in confusion.

Five blinks, a little confused himself. Unless - “Wait, did you never train your powers?”

“Five,” Vanya says slowly, like she’s explaining a simple concept to a particularly dim child, “I don’t have powers.”

This was - this was unexpected. Why did he not think of this explanation? It’s just - he has now known about Vanya’s powers for like way longer than he hasn’t. It’s almost second nature to think of Vanya as having powers by now. And she doesn’t know.

“Oh boy.” He says, picking up Reginald’s notebook, “This debriefing may take a bit longer than I first thought. Oh, and at some point we should probably cut the tracker out of my arm as well.”

“The what out of your what?”

Yeah the day doesn’t really get much better from there.

#the red book au #five finds reggie's journal in the apocalypse #and so he is very familiar with his sister's powers!! isn't that fun #he's also like 50% more spiteful because actually Fuck Reginald Hargreeves #he is the president of the Dad Sucks Club #because he has the notebook he's been essentially planning his apocalypse game plan for years #with the power of strategy and knowing his siblings powers inside out #or at least to the extent reggie understood them #so he's much more MISSION REPORT when he gets to 2019 #time to debrief the squad on what the fuck is up #five lets the cat out of the bag so early lmao #fuck u leonard #five: haha yeah i want vanya on my team so i can see her sick ass powers in action #the family: her WHAT #five: *surprised pikachu face*#five has spent so long in the apocalypse with dolores who knows what he is thinking #that he struggles with the concept that people don't know what he knows sometimes #me pointing at vanya's book and reginald's notebook: there are both traumatizing to read #Anonymous #long post #far tua long

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moonlightdreamzz · 4 years ago

Text

empathetic — woozi

all you want, is for jihoon to care.

you always knew your boyfriend was more of an onion, and not a sunflower. what you mean by that, is that he had many layers to him, and he could not be pulled easily. if you wanted to peel the different pieces off of him, you had to work for it, but quite frankly you think you deserved a lot more than he had given you in the past couple of days.

you considered your body to be strong, but weak at the same time. you caught disease quite quickly such as colds, flu’s, and infections, but you also whooped its ass everytime. oddly enough, one of the things you looked forward to when you finally met your match was having someone to coo over your warm temperatures. a man who would surprise you with warm soups and extra blankets, who would also lay in bed with you no matter what was going on and give you kisses.

lee jihoon was not that man, which you knew, but you had no idea it would be this bad.

you were a mess - definitely not the prettiest sight you could conjure of yourself. you don’t remember the last time you saw your thick hair, which was never tamable on a good day, but especially for this past week had you just not been feeling any of your usual trials and tribulations of trying to figure out what to do with yourself. your bonnet had found itself halfway off your head from your tossing and turning through the night.

if you had the energy, you would crochet your hair. quick and easy timing, but also a cute look. jihoon also appreciated it on you, and you unfortunately lived to please him.

you weren’t dying at the moment, but you did have some concerning symptoms - a cough. so, symptom. of course your boyfriend did not bat an eye whatsoever for the past week as he scrambled through your home silently like the cute little mouse he was.

today is no different, but still your patience has completely ran thin. the penthouse you two shared was large enough so that whenever he wanted to hide from you, he could, and you knew that’s exactly what he was doing at this current moment.

when he finally walks into your shared bedroom ever so quietly, you can tell he was praying you were asleep.

“why are you hiding from me?” you question immediately. you don’t have much on, as you always got hot so easily. no shirt covered your body, just panties, but you and jihoon had been together so long that he was immune to your bare flesh. now that you think about it, you can’t remember the last time the two of you made any kind of love. luckily you didn’t need sex all the time in order to be satisfied, but jihoon wasn’t giving you anything at all.

“huh?” he responds quickly - proof you were right. you hated how cute he was, especially when he had what you referred to as his “morning puff”. he always had a chunky, sweet little face, but when he woke up from long nights in the studio, it was extra squishy and normally you would enjoy kissing all over his adorable face, but not today. you were upset.

“have you not heard me coughing for the past week?”

he turns to face you now. you’re sure he had a flashback to the many arguments where you begged him to look at you in your eyes. at least he cared about something you’ve said to him in the past.

“i have.” is all he says. that’s really all he has to say?

“and you haven’t done shit about it?”

“why are you cursing at me?”

“because I’m tired of the non-chalant attitude.”

he sighs out loud. that was his way of telling you he had better things to do. even so, he crawls on top of the bed and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“relax, baby.” he encourages. “what do you want? i’ll order your favorite.”

this is what you referred to as the attempt. a very poor one, but an attempt never the less.

would it be wrong of you to ask for something home made? would that make you selfish? all of the other girlfriends gagged about whenever any minor issues went on with them, how the boys would cater to their every need like they were the queen of the entire world or something. why didn’t jihoon treat you that way? was he too comfortable?

“y/n?” he speaks, knowing you completely ignored his question in exchange for what if’s.

“nevermind.” you mutter, laying back on your California king.

“don’t do that.” he sighs. he’s irritated with you for sure, but what do you care?

“do you even care?” you question. “like seriously?”

“if I didn’t care I wouldn’t be sitting in this house with you. and I just told you I would buy you whatever you want. i don’t know what more you want me to do.”

“i want you to act like my boyfriend of a million years. i want you to coddle me and give me kisses and offer to wash my hair.”

“in what world is anybody allowed to touch your hair?” he questions seriously as his eyebrows scrunch together in completely confusion and irritation.

“does it matter if I would say no?”

he chuckles, but not in a way where he thinks you’re cute. you’re only making the situation worse in his eyes. “do you want the food or not?”

“do you remember when we first started dating?” you stand up promptly, your thighs rubbing together as you get closer to him.

“y/n, why do you expect me to be the exact same way I was when I first met you?”

“why do people have this weird belief that once you start dating for a certain amount of years that love has to slow down?”

“so you’re saying I don’t love you?”

“i’m saying i have been clearly sick for the past week and all you’ve been is cooped up in your studio like a damn crack addict. what I’m saying is, we are in a relationship but you don’t even care to ask me am I okay. i’m not dating you to still feel like I’m alone!”

“you do realize the only person who pays bills in this nice little house is me right? how else can I do that if not ‘cooped up in my studio like a crack addict’” he quotes directly from you.

“do you realize that you’re the one who told me I didn’t have to pay a bill in this house?”

“whatever.”

he tries to walk away, but you know it’s only because he hates to argue, especially recently. it was something about it that really pained him.

“baby.” you lower your tone from all the unnecessary yelling. you touch his hand, but he snatches it away so hard that you flinch and fall to the ground. “baby...” you whisper faintly, hoping that he’ll care. for once in a long time will he just care. but he doesn’t. with his pajamas still on does he snatch his keys and walk straight out of your - well, his apartment. he slams the door too.

you honestly couldn’t recall how much time had passed since he departed from your home. usually when the two of you fought, you could easily find ways to distract yourself while also ignoring your mild heartbreak from his actions. but for some reason, this time, you couldn’t stop thinking this may have been the end.

that was usually the case when you felt like someone was falling out of love with you when you did absolutely nothing to deserve it.

you tried to listen to music. you tried to cook, but you sucked terribly at cooking Korean food and that’s all you had in your possession. you tried to sleep, but with everything running through your mind, that was impossible. so here you were, stuck with your thoughts.

you also still had the terribly annoying cough.

you didn’t have many friends here. the only people who checked on you were vernon, coups, and mingyu. you were expecting to get a call from one of them any second now.

like clock work, your phone is ringing. quite frankly you weren’t prepared to see Vernon’s name pop up on your phone simply because he was the one who called the least, but you didn’t mind. he always got you turnt whenever you were down, and even when you were fighting with woozi he didn’t suddenly treat you like you didn’t exist. he was always a neutral party.

“hello?” you say softly - your voice hoarse from the constant coughing you were doing.

“hey.” his voice speaks softly, “you alright?”

“yeah I’m fine, just not feeling my best. i have this annoying ass cough and it’s not going away and I’m also alone so, just fine.” you chuckle while burying yourself deeper into the bed if that was even possible.

“damn, you been smoking that good?”

“unlike you, I only smoke on special occasions vernon.”

“yeah whatever. how’s woozi? haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”

“he’s fine...I think. he’s been trying to hide from me but that’s been the norm lately if I’m being honest.”

“wait, you said you were alone.” vernon remembers, “we’ve been off all week where is your boyfriend?”

“you know...being himself.” you and vernon may have not spoke as much, but when you did talk to him, everything flowed out. every secret. it should be like this with woozi, but. “maybe it’s my fault.” you sigh, scratching your scalp from outside your bonnet, “i kind of...asked for a lot I guess.”

“like?”

“well, I’m not feeling well. i just felt upset because it seemed like he was purposely trying to avoid me so I wouldn’t have the chance to ask him to do anything for me. and the thing is, I wasn’t going to ask for anything but a lousy fucking hug - a cuddle. the bare minimum. i would have even taken a no but to be avoided? it hurt my feelings and we fought and—ugh. he stormed out the house and I have no idea where he is and I want to call him but truthfully what did I do wrong vernon? lately I’ve been feeling like I’m in a relationship with myself and I know we can be better than this. woozi used to be the sweetest little baby. he may have been hard to others, but he opened up for me. i feel shut out.”

you feel so much better getting all of that out, even though you know your boyfriend may have not appreciated the sentiment.

you know vernon listened to every single word and and would come back with some heartfelt advice.

“just give it time y/n. i can’t speak on jihoon like I am him, but if there’s one thing I know? it’s that you are the only person he truly loves that doesn’t share his bloodline. of course he loves us, but you - he opens up to you. he’s allowed you to see him. maybe there’s something going on. or maybe he just didn’t know what to do. just let him come back to you and see what happens.”

“thank you vernon. forreal.” you don’t know why his words affected you so much and made you feel such a heavy weight of guilt in the part where you held your boyfriend so deeply - your heart, but you did.

more hours had passed, and still no sign of woozi. you even tossed your pride away and called him, only to be sent straight to voicemail. you must have really irritated him, but you still didn’t feel sorry. you didn’t move your pride aside that much.

you did feel somber though, considering how much you loved him even through how he had been acting lately. and without him in your life, there was no reason for you to be here - in Korea. you didn’t want to end things. you just wanted to feel loved.

you still haven’t gotten out the bed except when you needed to pee. YouTube and funny clips had been keeping your company. maybe it was because of boredom, but things began to get darker and darker in your home. you were fading into a bitter sweet slumber. regardless, it’s what you needed. maybe your cough would subdue.

jihoon is quiet as a mouse as always when he walks inside, hands full of multiple things. all day had your words rang through his mind that was already full of so many things. had he really been making you feel so worthless? like you weren’t the most important person for his soul other than his family? actually, you were his family. there was never a day where he felt like he deserved you, but the minute the two of you kissed for the first time did he know that he would do whatever he had to, to keep you forever.

so when did he stop? he kind of knew he hadn’t been his best, but he didn’t know why. it was as if he was doing it on purpose, but not because of something you did. lately, it had just been so hard to keep up with everything in his life. all of the schedules seventeen had. and in between, as he was one of the frequent producers for the group, there were so many deadlines he had to meet he just felt so overwhelmed.

but he heard you coughing, and he was so worried. even so, he didn’t ask you what was wrong. why didn’t he ask you - his baby - what’s wrong? especially after it was day three and the cough was not improving? any other man who would practically rip his limbs off to be with you, would have been catering to your every need. they would have gave you all the kisses you needed, would have given you a full body massage, and offered to wash your hair even knowing that the answer was going to be no.

but he didn’t.

when he left, he was so angry. but not at you, at himself. vernon was the first person he called as he knew that while the two of you didn’t talk often, that he was the one who knew how to get your exact feelings. he hated how much of a wimp he sounded like when he had to bargain a song in exchange for vernon to call you. vernon declined and called you anyway.

to hear you on the phone, telling vernon that you felt as if you weren’t loved. feeling like you were in a relationship with yourself? that broke him. so, he called another one of his members who he knew would guide him into the right direction - mingyu.

“ill order everything, hyung. all you have to do is pick everything up. what you need to do right now, is practice your apology. oh, and pick up some cough medicine for her.”

so he did. his little body struggled to get everything inside, but he figured you would be asleep at this time. when you were bored, you had a tendency to doze off.

his instructions were to set everything up real nice on a table and serve it to you as if you were on a date, but woozi knew you better than that. he knew all you wanted to do was eat in bed and go right back to sleep. and talk.

he walks through the slim hallway that leads into your shared bedroom, and he was right. you were sleeping. the tv shined on your beautiful skin that he loved to place his cheek on whenever he felt any negative or positive emotion. he wasn’t sure what was on the tv. you probably weren’t either. you both loved to put on random movies and shows and talk about how much they sucked.

he approaches you gently - afraid that any little noise would startle you. he places everything on the fluffy sheets; the roses, your meal, your medicine, and the usb with the song he had been saving for you all lined up in orderly fashion. your bonnet is falling off your head as always, so he adjusts it. you had a pet peeve about that.

you were so beautiful. the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire life. and you loved him. you - the brightest star in the galaxy and the sweetest soul chose him out of all of the people you had attempting to steal your heart. he couldn’t let another second go by without fixing this.

“baby.” he whispers. his thumb caresses your ear gently. he always wanted to be this guy. the hopeless romantic, always knew what to do guy, but girls never wanted him. he was always too short, too boring, all of the bad things. you never felt that way though. you always told him he was the perfect size for you. that he wasn’t boring, it was just that people never wanted to take the time to get to know him.

you moved slightly, but he knew he had just only scraped whatever dream you were currently in. he had to try a little harder to return you back to the world. his lips find themselves on your sweet face, just as you do to him every morning. little by little is he painting his love on you until you finally begin to stir.

“are you a murderer?” are the first words you speak.

you were always so hilarious, even without trying. he knew that was a genuine question no matter how funny the delivery was.

“no. i hope not.” he responds.

he can see you recognize his voice from the way you release the breathe he didn’t even know you were holding. woozi expected you to push him off you the minute you realized it was him, but you didn’t.

“hi baby.” you whisper, pulling him into you.

“hi baby.” he repeats, inhaling your sweet scent. it always made him feel like he was in heaven.

you pull back, cuffing his chubby face into his hands. if there was one thing about your fights with jihoon, it was that it wasn’t hard to make up. a simple look in each others eyes was enough to make up for everything. it was such a toxic trait, but it worked out.

“wait.” you breathe out as you notice everything behind your boyfriend. “ji...”

“it’s nothing, y/n.” he sighs, moving back so he can have a full view of you. “it’s what I should be giving you every fucking day. you are my queen. you are the only thing that is keeping me sane with this lifestyle.”

“everyday would drive even me crazy, ji.” you giggle, “you know that’s not what this is about. it’s just, I know how we used to be and I know how we are now. i don’t want us to get so comfortable with each other that we forget why we are together. you know that happened to my parents and I want to be with you forever.”

“i know.” all of sudden he feels it - the feeling he’s been feeling for the past couple of weeks whenever something bad happens. his whole body feels sick. he hasn’t told you about it because he thought it would go away, but it hasn’t. it seems as if this is going to be the worse one as it does involve the love of his life.

“hey.” you sit up, throwing one of his shirts that laid free on the bed. “what’s wrong babe? i’m here. i’m right here.”

you had never seen him like this before. you knew there was no such thing as a person who didn’t have internal issues, but this seemed like something that had been wanting to boil over for a while. you knew what severe anxiety looked like as you suffered from it. this was it.

“i don’t know, y/n.” he breathes out shakily. “this has been...happing lately.”

“why didn’t you tell me? hm?”

“i don’t know. i don’t know anything other than that I love you. and that I’m sorry.” he seems to be calming down from your touch. had he known this was all he needed, all the pain he suffered would have never taken place. he should have known though. you were his angel after all.

“we tell each other everything, baby.” you remind him as you begin to place gentle kisses onto his neck. “never forget that. there is nothing we can’t get through together.”

“i know.” is all he can say - your lips were too much of a distraction for him especially when he hasnt felt them in so long. he always craved you, but the two of you always took a lot of breaks. your relationship was much deeper than your love making no matter how addicted the two of you were to eachother.

you want to get right into it. you want to throw him on the bed, and ride every ounce of anxiety your boyfriend has right off, and then you want to eat your food, take your medicine, and drift into what you know will be the best sleep you’ve gotten in a while. but you two had to talk. everything needed to be squashed.

“ji, what can I do to fix this? i don’t like the way I’ve been feeling. and I know you don’t either.”

“you are perfect. you always have been. it’s me, but I promise I’ll do better. i’ll get everything under control.”

“you mean we will get everything under control. honestly baby, let’s not even use that terminology. we will learn to overcome this. anxiety is completely normal. you just can’t let it control you okay? and we have to communicate. don’t be afraid to show me any parts of you especially when you’ve seen my literal insides.” you joke, just to see his smile. he does, and it’s so bright. your foreheads lean into eachother immediately - natural just like your love.

“i love you.” he whispers.

“i love you.” you repeat. the two of you tried your best to not add too, to that sentence, as it meant in exchange for the other ones love and that’s not what was going on here. no matter what, the two of you loved each other. even if one stopped.

woozi goes back to buisness immediately, knowing you two were better now. his hands remove the covers that covered your body, and his tounge finds itself on your neck - his favorite place that’s not inside you.

“you feeling better?” he questions, still attacking you.

“i think this will distract me for a bit.” you giggle

“i’ll make it it all go away. you know I will.” are his final words before he lays on top of you, sliding his shirt off of your body with ease.

you were in for a long night. and the two of you still were in need of a conversation about what he was going through, but you knew what the both of you needed in this moment. you needed to feel each other again.

#seventeen #kpop black reader #kpop ambw #kpop poc #poc kpop #ambw kpop #woozi imagine #seventeen imagine #seventeen x poc reader #woozi angst #woozi fluff

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mommymooze · 4 years ago

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Angelic Vision

Claude x Reader

Angelic Vision

“You look like an angel. Have you come to take me to heaven?“ Claude lies on the ground, the back of his hand across his brow.

“No, but when I pull that arrow out of you it’s going to hurt like hell.” You say as you put your knee on his chest and with both hands pull the arrow back out of Claude’s shoulder.

“Yeeowch!” Claude hollers.

You then pour healing magic into his shoulder, feeling the muscles weaving themselves back together. You stand up reaching out your hand for his other hand to help Claude up from the ground.

“Go easy on it. If you reinjure it, go find Marianne because I’m not going to fix it again.” You tell him before running off to the next injured party.

Hilda walks up to stand by the House Leader of the Golden Deer. “Why do the super smart ones always have to be so pissy?”

“Beats me, if they would loosen up or relax a little, they would have a lot more fun.” Claude shrugs.

Mail is delivered and there is a shipment of three boxes for you. Pretty darn heavy boxes. You carry them one at a time from the front gate to your room. Unlocking and opening your door you suddenly find you are not alone. Claude gives a look of shock at the number of books in your room. One entire wall is nothing but books.

“You do know they have a library here.” Claude quips

“It is useless for my research.” You grumble. “The books are old and out of date. They also do not have any ancient texts that may have useful yet forgotten applications.”

Claude is looking at the subjects and titles. “Hey mind if I borrow a few?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I’ll think about it. “

You’ve been hanging out with Linhardt a lot lately. He’s supposed to be helping with a project you’re working on.

“When I saw them in the library, they were getting pretty cozy.” Hilda snarkily jests.

Claude decides there is a book that he must have right now from the library. He walks in to see you back to back with a very unconscious Linhardt. You’re trying to support him with your back so he doesn’t fall over completely while you are still reading your book. You look trapped?

“Having fun?” Claude grins.

“Yeah. When Lin’s on empty he just crashes. Since Caspar isn’t here, well, I don’t want him to fall and get hurt. I can’t move him.” You groan

Claude helps you get the sleeping cleric to a couch to catch his z’s.

“Thanks. Squishy magic users don’t quite have the strength for these things.”

“I’d be happy to help you out with anything.” Claude smiles. “Call me and I’ll be there!”

You spend the afternoon gathering plants and mushrooms in the nearby woods for your studies. You’ve been working on creating antitoxins and other cures for poisons. You have several bags tied to your waist with different plants in them. Just as you’re about to reach for a particularly ugly and poisonous mushroom you hear a voice calling out your name.

“Hey! Those are really poisonous. You better watch out!”

“Oh Claude, of course I know they are poisonous. How am I supposed to make a potion to neutralize them if I don’t collect them?” You roll your eyes at him.

“Since when have you been interested in poisons?” He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Since Leonie took that poison arrow last battle. We didn’t have anything to counteract it and she had to suffer for over a week until the poison made it through her system.”

“You’re right. He muses. “Maybe we can work together on them sometime?”

An envelope is sealed and addressed to you. It’s the regular update from your father. Sitting down in the dining hall you groan miserably as you read.

Hilda has to know what is troubling you. “Family feud?”

“Just kill me now.” You whine.

She pats you on the shoulder. “Can’t be that bad, can it?”

“My father. I love him dearly but he meddles so much. He agreed that I could come here to further my learning. But…” You hesitate.

She looks at you, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“He told me I have to find myself a husband, preferably a noble while here. I am extremely busy with class work, spell practice, spell development, antidote, and concoction creation. I hardly have time to sleep. Oh, and don’t forget Byleth’s special projects. The guys want someone fun and outgoing like you. You’re cute and entertaining and I’m a dowdy old bookworm.”

“Awww. I am pretty awesome, that’s true.” Hilda grins. “You just need a fake boyfriend while your father is here. I bet I can find someone to help you.”

“Not Sylvain. I will kill myself.” You frown.

“I gotcha fam. Give me the deets and I will set you up.”

“Thanks Hils I owe ya.” You curtsey to her.

“Sky watch for the next month to start, hmmmm…” She ponders.

Later that evening Hilda corners Claude. “One big fat amazing opportunity has just dropped into your lap, loverboy. You better not mess this up!”

“Do tell…” Claude winks.

Tomorrow is the day your father is to arrive. You find Hilda to see if she has anything set for you. Hilda says she’s got everything under control. You’re shaking in your boots, the only thing going through your mind is that your father is going to drag you out of here kicking and screaming because you don’t have a boyfriend.

The day arrives. Standing next to the gatekeeper you watch as the carriage rolls closer and closer to the front gate. Suddenly an arm slides around your back and a familiar voice speaks, “Shouldn’t we go down and greet your father, my deer?” You look up into the sparkling emerald green eyes of Claude. Blushing terribly, you can only nod as you walk down the steps to greet your father.

Your father rushes to you with both arms open to give you a hug and spin you half way around in a circle. “My baby. It’s been so long. In these few short months I daresay you’ve grown in to a fine woman. So beautiful.” Your fathers’ cheeks are rosy and eyes are filled with love for his only daughter. “And who is this young man?” He curiously asks.

“My apologies, father.” You are gasping for breath. “This is Claude von Riegan.

Grandson to-”

Your father finishes your statement. “The Duke of the Leister Alliance!”

“And her beau.” Claude announces proudly, first bowing to your father then taking your hand and intertwines your fingers before placing a gentle kiss onto your knuckles. Your face flushes redder than a summer tomato.

Claude continues to hold your hand as he escorts the both of you to your room. The future Duke and your father are already excitedly discussing Leister business, trade and the safety of trade routes.

“I will leave you to your visit. I’ll be back in time to take you both for a grand lunch in town just across the way.” Claude smiles as he bows to your father and kisses your hand again before he leaves, his cape swishing as he turns.

You open your door to find a small table with a pitcher of ice cold water and lemons as well as two glasses and a small stack of cakes. A beautiful bouquet of daisies and roses accompanies them. Two comfortable and decorative chairs are alongside of the table. You swear you recall those chairs were in Seteth’s office not too long ago.

“Please take a seat, father.” You pour him some of the deliciously refreshing chilled water. “Tell me about your trip.” Trying to keep him focused on what has been going on at home. Every time he tries to ask about your relationship with Claude, you ask about your brothers or your aunt, anything to steer the conversation away from you. An opportune knock on the door disrupts your fathers latest attempt to discuss your relationship with the grandson of Duke Riegan.

“My apologies, we do have a reservation for lunch in town.” Claude bows deeply to the both of you. As you leave your room, Claude swiftly takes your hand. You smile nervously at him. This man is a master of deception.

Claude manages the conversation with entertaining stories of Byleth and the Golden Deer. He makes certain to include some accounts of your healing accomplishments, swearing that none of the deer would be here without your amazing abilities. You spend the entire time blushing or begging Claude to stop praising you, but he keeps going, his smile wider and wider.

At the restaurant, the waitress brings you to the table and Claude attends your chair for you. The waitress comments that it is always lovely to see you two lovebirds in here again. Does Claude have the entire town in on this? Geeez. Claude orders lunch for the both of you, as if he has done this a hundred times.

Lunch is anxious yet enjoyable. You are on the edge of your seat at all times. Claude explains how you met through the Golden Deer. You’re both supportive and loyal to the class. You found common interests in seeking cures for poisons and are very supportive of each other in battle, that you fell for his charm and good looks and that he is incredibly impressed by your intelligence and knowledge. Nothing he says is a lie, except that you two aren’t really together.

The waitress asks about dessert. Your father declines, Claude tells her the usual and your eyes get big. He squeezes your hand that he has clasped in his on the table and gives you a wink.

A small cake with two forks is placed between you. Claude quickly takes a fork and holds a piece of cake in front of your lips. You glance at him and your father. Feeding you? That’s pretty intimate. Claude smiles wider as you open slowly while he feeds you a bit of cake. You look into his eyes and tell him it is wonderful.

He cuts off another bit and takes a bite. “Delicious.” Is that an indirect kiss?

Your father is grinning at you as the cake is finished. You slightly roll your eyes with embarrassment and that fact that you can’t believe Claude is doing this.

The men argue a minute over who will pay the tab, Claude graciously thanking your father for a delightful lunch as your father foots the bill. Your father commenting that this has been the best and most entertaining lunch he has had in a long time makes you blush harder.

The conversation is quieter as everyone his happily full walking back to the monastery. Claude happily swings your hands back and forth together as you walk. Your father asks what things you will be doing soon. Claude advises they have a mission at the end of the month, and also the two of you have a date this Saturday just before sunset.

As you head back to the grounds, your father’s carriage is ready to go. Saying your goodbyes, your father gives you a long hug and whispers “Don’t let this one go, he’s a great catch.” He steps back and gives you one long admiring look.

He shakes Claude’s hand warmly, asking him to watch out for his baby girl.

“I’ll do everything in my power to protect her, sir. You can count on that.” Claude gives him one of his classic winks.

Standing at the gate, holding hands, you both wave as your father’s carriage rolls out of sight.

Claude holds his hands out to you, “A kiss for your boyfriend?” he says as he closes his eyes and puckers his lips. You laugh as you lightly slap his shoulder.

“I cannot believe you pulled this off! I thought for sure I’d be riding back with him, but you actually had him eating out of your hand!”. You laugh as you walk away. “Maybe you should see about getting into acting or the opera. I don’t think Dorothea could have pulled off a performance like that.”

You get back to your room and thankfully Seteth’s chairs are missing. The pitcher of water is still there and the flowers. You didn’t notice before, but there was a card with them.

Every day is heaven with you, my angel ~Claude.

P.S. You keep the date on Saturday at sunset.

#fe3h #fe16 #feth #fe3h x reader #fe Claude #claude von riegan

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cherryeol04 · 4 years ago

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Boyfriend (M)

Pairings : Changbin x Reader Genre: Smut, funny, romance, cute Word Count: 2.4K Warnings: This story contains smut. If you are not comfortable with it, please skip!

The one thing Y/N is grateful for, is the fact that on Tuesdays, she doesn't have classes. That meant she was free to sleep in as long as she wanted, do whatever she felt like and she didn't have to worry about getting up and going somewhere. Unless she wanted to go out shopping with a friend, then that was a different story. But for the most part Y/N spent her days off in her cozy little apartment, just enjoying herself. Sometimes she would do a little cleaning, after all she tended to have her boyfriend over often and he wasn't the best at cleaning up behind himself. But bless his heart, he tried. Changbin was a terror normally, walking around the place like he owned it. Y/N was actually surprised that there wasn't a bigger mess when she got up that morning. All of his music producing equipment had been packed up and sat neatly in the small corner of the bedroom that Y/N had deemed his area.

He had complained, saying he should have a bigger spot. But she had countered that he hadn't moved in with her and wasn't helping to pay the bills. Once he did that, he could have as big an area that he wanted. It effectively shut him up because despite the fact they had been dating for over seven months now, moving in was a step that neither one of them was ready to make. It was hard to spend time with each other usually. If Y/N wasn't busy with classes and assignments, then it was Changbin who was locked up in a studio at the university with his friends and co-workers Jisung and Chan - working on their latest track for classes or to upload on Soundcloud. Changbin usually wouldn't leave the studio until the early hours of the morning, to sleep for maybe an hour or two before getting back up and heading to class. It was difficult for them to see each other, but they tried.

Though not living together, they did leave things over at each other's places, an excuse they used to be over at odd hours of the day. Like yesterday when Y/N really needed a pair of shoes that would match her cute sundress, she had to drive all the way over to Changbin's apartment to get them. It was worth it because she saw his inability to care for himself and ended up making him dinner for that night and lunch for the next day, all neatly stacked in containers and left in the fridge with a sweet note waiting for him on the counter. It was the small things that made this relationship worth it. Because even if she didn't see him as much as she wanted, finding the sweet notes or receiving the crazy sleep deprived texts always put a smile on her face and reminded her how much she loved him.

Of course, those things didn't negate the fact that she was still a woman and she had needs. Strong urges and desires that struck at the most inopportune time. Recently she had been fighting a bout of horniness that always hit her right in the middle of her afternoon class and by the time she got home, it had left, leaving her very frustrated and unsatisfied. She had a plan, however, to fix that. Since it was her day off, she might as well spend it getting off to the thoughts of her boyfriend. A few good orgasms, a hot shower and Netflix sounded like the perfect way to spend her afternoon.

After making sure the apartment was in better condition than it had been, she started her little robot vacuum and made her way back to her bedroom. Stripping out of her pajamas, she situated herself on her bed and reached over to her nightstand, opening the bottom drawer. She was greeted with the sight of the many different sex toys she owned. A few dildos, but most were vibrators of different size, strengths and looks to them. She had one that mimicked the look of a real dick, but the rest were mostly pink and purple, some with bulbous mushroom heads. For the most part they were smooth and rounded, perfect for an easy glide inside, though she could never deny how much she loved the feeling of a head spreading her hole wide. She took a moment to think, eyeing each toy before she grabbed one of the smaller vibrators, purple and made of silicon. It almost mimicked the look of rubber and she loved it's squishy texture.

Grabbing the lube, she closed the draw and laid the items out next her as she made herself comfortable. Parting her legs lightly, she slowly ran her hands over her thighs, just feeling herself for a moment - enjoying the pleasure brought to her. Working herself up was what she wanted to do as she grazed her fingers over every inch of skin she could reach, thighs trembling as she occasionally teased her clit. She wanted to take it slow, build it up. After all, she had all day to herself.

———

Changbin hadn’t planned to go over to Y/N’s place. But when he got the email stating his class was cancelled for the day, he decided that maybe he could get in some early work at the studio and then spend the evening with his girlfriend. In his mind, it was a great plan, except for the fact that he had left his equipment at Y/N’s place. It’s not that he minded going over there, it was just that he couldn’t remember if she had classes today or not and he really wanted it to be a surprise that he was coming over.

He could just simply not work and spend time with her now, but he knew that Jisung and Chan were at the studio already working, and he really wanted to go and help. Maybe he could just sneak in and sneak out? Or if anything he could just say he needed his things for after class. With excuse in mind, Changbin made his way to his girlfriend’s apartment, only a short 5 minute drive from the school.

He easily let himself in with the key he had and when he didn’t see Y/N in the living room or the kitchen when he passed by, he figured that she probably wasn’t home. Which was great news for him. Walking to the bedroom, he had just pushed open the door when a moan filtered through his ears and he froze in his tracks. His eyes landed on the bed, watching as his girlfriend played with herself. Her hand twisted, moving as she thrusted a toy in and out of herself, vibrations growing louder before fading with each thrust. The fingers of her other hand worked over her clit shamelessly, pulling louder moans and sighs of pleasure.

“F-fuck, Changbin.”

Changbin’s dick twitched at the sound of his name and he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress a moan that wanted to escape.

“Deeper. Harder.” Y/N’s hand did its best to fulfill her wishes but even Changbin noticed it just wasn’t delivering the power she wanted.

“Well, well, well. Isn’t this such a lovely surprise.” Changbin called out, voice conveying a sense of confidence he didn’t think he could muster with the way his heart was pounding rapidly in his chest. The noise surprised Y/N and she jerked, all movements stopping as she stared at her boyfriend with a guilt express.

“What are you doing here?” She whispered, voice slightly horse from the loud whining and moan she had been doing moments before.

“Well I came to get my mixing equipment but instead I found a sexy little minx on the bed, all spread out and playing with herself.” He said, watching as she closed her legs around her arm, trying to hide herself from his hungry gaze. Not that he hadn’t seen her like this before. They’ve had sex plenty of times before. This was just the first time Changbin had caught her playing with herself.

“I-I-“

“Want some help?”

Y/N nodded her head slowly, carefully pulling out the vibrator from within her and turning it off. She was thinking that if Changbin was offering help, he would fuck her. She didn't expect him to walk over and take the toy from her grasp and turn it back on as he knelt on the edge of the bed. His eyes raked over her naked body, taking in each and every curve - admiring how hard and beautiful her nipples were. Chuckling to himself, he moved closer, sitting between her legs and making himself comfortable. Y/N shivered at the new position and once again tried to close her legs and hide herself from view, but Changbin's hands reached out quickly, pushing her thighs apart once more.

"Don't do that." he said lightly, voice barely above a whisper, even though there was no reason to be quiet. He stared into her eyes, gaze soft as he tried to convey reassurance and acceptance to her. It seemed to work as she slowly relaxed and let her legs fall open, putting herself on full display for the other. Licking his lips, Changbin grinned as he leaned forward, fingers twisting the top of the vibrator to turn it on the lowest setting. Reaching down, he carefully brushed the tip of the toy against her clit, chuckling as she jerked at the sudden touch to the sensitive nub.

"Oh fuck." she panted softly, her back arching slightly. Her hips jerked as her abdomen tightened and she tried to pull away from the touch, but the toy followed. "Changbin." she whimpered softly. Changbin chuckled as he moved the toy, rubbing it against her while watching the way her body spasmed against his touch.

"You're so beautiful baby, do you like this?" he asked. She nodded her head quickly, soft whimpers leaving her as he moved the toy down further to press against her opening. The tip slipped in and vibrated against her sensitive walls and she keened for more - for Changbin to go deeper and harder. He didn't though. Instead, he pulled the toy out and brought it back up and teased her clit once more. A loud cry left her quickly and she jerked and trembled under his touch, chest rising and falling with quick breaths. "I want you to cum for me." he whispered. "Can you do that?" Y/N nodded her head, ready to cum for the other. She had been teasing herself relentless for who knows how long and she had been getting close to the edge when Changbin walked in.

"Please." she begged almost pathetically, head falling back as she let the pleasure wash over her body - back and hips arching to get more of the pleasure from Changbin. The toy slipped down once more and slipped into her, a deep gasp leaving her as it was turned up in volume and the vibrations increased. Changbin pushed the toy in deeply and Y/N cried out, feeling the vibrations through her core as he shallowly thrusted the toy in and out. "Chang-" Her plea was cut off as Changbin's hot, wet tongue ran over her clit and she spasmed at it. "Oh fuck yes." she cried out and whimpered. Reaching down, she ran her fingers through his hair once before tangling them into the soft strands. Her hips jerked down, rocking down against his mouth and hand. He thrusted the toy in harder, angling it upwards as it stroked her walls - grazing against her g-spot every now and then to heighten the pleasure. His mouth worked over her clit, sucking and licking on it hungrily as his noisy slurps filled the room.

Y/N was tense under him, toes curling as the pleasure mounted inside her. She could feel it, the pressure getting ready to be released and she was so ready for it. "Changbin." she breathed out. "I'm going to cum." she gasped out. It was the only warning she could give as the pleasure reached its peak too quickly. She cried out as the tension released and her body jerked, hole clenching around the toy that was still moving inside her. "Oh fuck! Fuck!" she cried out, panting heavily as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. As she slowly calmed down, Changbin slowly turned down the vibrations of the toy, letting her get used to each level before turning it off slowly and slipping it out. Pulling back from her, he smirked, licking his lips clean of the sweet juices he had been lapping at. Tossing the toy onto the bed, he leaned over and ran a hand gently over her stomach, dragging it up and over each breast, teasing her nipples light with a smile.

Whining, Y/N smacked at his hand lightly, but didn't push him away as he went back to rubbing his hand over her body. Leaning down, Changbin pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, followed by a few more kisses to her neck and one to her forehead. "You did so good baby," he whispered. "How do you feel?"

"Amazing." she whispered and looked up at him with a wide smile, eyes sparkling with the remnants of pleasure and love and adoration. "Thank you baby." she whispered. Changbin chuckled and gave her another kiss before sitting back on his heels.

"You're welcome." Shifting, he climbed off the bed and grabbed the covers, pulling them up and over her body, tucking her in. "Take a nap babe."

"What about you?" she asked, frowning as she looked down at the obvious boner he was sprouting, before looking back up at him.

"I'll be fine. I need to go and do some work." he told her and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before pressing his face against the top of her head gently. "Get some sleep okay? I'll see you later tonight. We can play then." he assured her as he pulled back and stared down at her.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She wasn't happy, but she accepted it and after pulling Changbin down for one more kiss, she let him go and curled up on her side. She watched as he moved and grabbed his things, blew her a kiss and left the room. She could hear his footsteps echo lightly as he walked down the hall and eventually the door opened and closed as he left. Alone once more, she let her eyes close, ready to nap with the knowing promise that she could return the favor to him later. And she honestly, couldn't wait.

Tags: @runningonkpop @clandestine-lixie @jisungsjheekies @luminouskalopsia @straysrachaa @mrbangchannie (to be added, go here)

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watusichris · 3 years ago

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Rock Gunfight in the Antipodes

Listening today to the hot new Grown Up Wrong! comp by Sydney’s Lipstick Killers, whose lone officially released single was produced by Deniz Tek of Radio Birdman, it occurred to me that my old Music Aficionado faux faceoff between Australia’s pioneering bands of the ‘70s (all of which I dearly love) has disappeared into the online ether. It’s time to bring it back.

**********

By Chris Morris

The mid- to late ‘70s were fertile days for rock ‘n’ roll in Australia. Here and there across the vast but not terribly populous island continent, fires were started by several attitude-filled bands bent on doing things their own damn way. They all managed to make their way off the island, but if they hit the American consciousness, it was for little more than a nanosecond during their heyday.

Who were the truest Rock Wizards of Oz? For this Down Under face-off, I’ve selected three contenders: the Saints, Radio Birdman, and the Scientists. All of them had fairly slim discographies; ironically, the act probably least known in the U.S., the Scientists, recorded most prolifically, with their core line-up producing several magnificent albums and singles during a productive four-year stretch in the early ‘80s. But none of these bands ever stayed together long enough to make a deep impression among the Yanks.

So where’s the Birthday Party, you ask? There are a few things to consider. First of all, though the band and its precursor unit the Boys Next Door were in business from 1976 on, they didn’t release their first LP until 1980. Also, Nick Cave is well known enough that more (king) ink needn’t be spilled on him. Finally, I still resent the fact that Cave stole PJ Harvey away from me, so it’s personal.

On with the showdown…

HIT ME LIKE A DEATH RAY, BABY

The Saints, founded 1974 in Brisbane

The prime movers of the Saints were a pair of literal outsiders: vocalist Chris Bailey, born in Kenya to Irish parents, and guitarist Ed Kuepper, raised in Germany. Thus the otherness of their work is no surprise.

With schoolmate Ivor Hay – who over time would play drums, bass, and piano with them – the pair founded a combo originally known as Kid Galahad and the Eternals (borrowing their handle from a 1962 Elvis Presley picture), but they swiftly renamed themselves the Saints and began playing in their hometown on the northeast coast of Australia.

Listening to their records, which were made in something of a cultural vacuum, it’s difficult to get a handle on where the Saints’ distinctive, aggressive sound came from. To be sure they were aware of such homegrown precursors from the ‘60s as the Master’s Apprentices and the Missing Links (whose 1965 single they covered on their debut album). It’s safe to assume they were conversant with the Velvet Underground, the Stooges, and Lenny Kaye’s 1972 garage rock compilation Nuggets. Yet they bred something utterly their own in the ocean air of Brisbane.

With Hay on drums and Kym Bradshaw on bass, Bailey and Kuepper mounted noisy local gigs that swiftly attracted the antipathy of the local constabulary; they wound up turning their own digs into a club to play shows. In 1976, they recorded and issued a self-financed single featuring two originals, “(I’m) Stranded” and “No Time.” These dire, ferocious songs were distinguished by venomous lyrics, unprecedented velocity, and guitar playing by Kuepper that sounded like a (literal) iron curtain being attacked with a chainsaw.

The record died locally, but a copy of its U.K. issue found its way into the hands of a critic at the English music weekly Sounds, which declared it the single of the week. This accolade got the attention of EMI Records, which signed the band and financed the recording of an album, also titled I’m Stranded, in a fast two-day Brisbane session.

The album, which was ultimately released in the U.S. by Sire Records, blew the ears off anyone who heard it, and it landed with a bang in England, where punk rock was lifting off in all its fury in early 1977. It was hurtling, powerful stuff that stood apart from punk in several crucial ways: While some of the songs were clipped and demonic in the standard manner, the Saints proved they could take their time on expansive numbers like the almost Dylanesque “Messin’ With the Kid” and the sprawling, hellriding “Nights in Venice.” And one has to wonder how British p-rockers took to their perverted take on Elvis’ squishy “Kissin’ Cousins.”

Made by musicians who never considered themselves “punks,” and who in fact abhorred the label, (I’m) Stranded is nevertheless one of the definitive statements in the genre, and it has maintained its force to this day.

Settling in England for the duration, the Saints decided to throw a curveball. One could not find a more profoundly alienated album than Eternally Yours (1978), a series of yowling protests, twisted prophecies, and savage put-downs, including the snarling second version of the single “This Perfect Day.” But, though the record was loud and for the most part swift, the group applied the brakes to their sound somewhat, and a couple of songs, including the caustic album opener “Know Your Product,” were dressed by a soul-styled horn section. Punk loyalists ran for cover.

By the time Prehistoric Sounds was issued in late ’78, the dejected Bailey and Kuepper were moving in different directions, and you can hear it in the grooves. The record is slow, almost listless at times, and its logy originals are complemented by incongruous Otis Redding and Aretha Franklin covers with none of the energy of earlier Saints soul-blasts. It is an album primarily for loyalists, and by then there were few in that number.

Kuepper exited the band on the heels of the third album’s release and returned to Australia, where he enjoyed a long career as leader of the Laughing Clowns; Bailey continued to perform under the Saints mantle with a shifting lineup that at last count numbered more than 30 players over the course of 37 years

Bailey and Kuepper reunited for one-off gigs in 2001 (at the ARIA awards ceremony) and 2007 (at Australia’s Queensland Music Festival).

THERE’S GONNA BE A NEW RACE

Radio Birdman, founded 1974 in Sydney

People who toss the “punk” handle around often throw Radio Birdman into the mix, but the sextet from Australia’s Southeast Coast may be best referred as the world’s youngest proto-punk band.

Its mastermind was guitarist, songwriter, and producer Deniz Tek, a native of Ann Arbor, Michigan, who emigrated to Sydney in 1971 to study medicine. As a teen, he got a chance to witness Detroit’s most explosive pre-punk bands – the MC5, the Stooges, and the Rationals; he would later wind up collaborating with important members of all those groups.

After apprenticing with and getting bounced from a Sydney band called TV Jones, Tek formed Radio Birdman (its name a corruption of a lyric from the Stooges’ “1970”) with singer Rob Younger; the lineup ultimately solidified with the addition of guitarist (and sometime keyboardist) Chris Masuak, bassist Warwick Gilbert, drummer Ron Keeley, and (on and off and then on again) keyboardist Pip Hoyle.

Rapidly acquiring a fan base made up of some of Sydney’s lowest elements, including members of the local Hell’s Angels, Radio Birdman ultimately took over a bar, re-dubbed (in honor of the Stooges, of course) the Oxford Funhouse, as their base of operations. The band’s severe Tek-designed band logo emanated fascist-style vibes for some; at a co-billed appearance in Sydney, the Saints’ Chris Bailey remarked from the stage, “We’d like to thank the local members of Hitler Youth for their stage props.”

Despite much antipathy and some attendant violence, the band maintained a loyal local following, and in 1976 it issued a strong four-song EP, Burn My Eye, via local studio-cum-independent label Trafalgar. This was succeeded the following year by a full-length debut album, Radios Appear.

Anyone looking for something resembling punk will likely be disappointed by that collection. The band wears its all-American hard rock/proto-punk influences on its dirty sleeve. Radios Appear is dedicated to the Stooges (whose “No Fun” was the lead-off track on the Aussie issue of the LP), and a song co-written by Tek and Stooges guitarist Ron Asheton, “Hit Them Again,” was cut during sessions for the record. Tek pays deep homage to MC5 guitarist Wayne Kramer with his playing, and blatantly cops a signature lick from the 5’s “Looking at You” at one juncture. The album title was lifted from a Blue Öyster Cult lyric, and the Tek-Masuak guitar-bashing bows to their multi-axe sound. Finally, in both Younger’s sometimes Morrisonian vocalizing and Hoyle’s Ray Manzarek-like ornamentation, homage to the Doors in paid in full. Given that Sydney is a beach town, there’s even a frisson of surf music in the mix.

Bursting with power-packed originals like the apocalyptic “Descent into the Maestrom,” youth-in-revolt anthem “New Race,” the cryptic, insinuating “Man with the Golden Helmet,” and Tek’s autobiographical “Murder City Nights,” Radios Appear was a power-packed set that established Radio Birdman as Oz’s leading rock light.

However, renown did not equal success in Antipodean terms. In 1978, the band cut its second album, Living Eyes, at Rockfield Studio in Wales; it was a solid effort that included remakes of three Burn My Eye numbers (including the wonderful Tek memoir “I-94,” about the Michigan interstate) and excellent new originals like “Hanging On,” “Crying Sun,” and “Alone in the End Zone.” But, with success seemingly within their grasp, Sire Records – their American label, and the Saints’ as well – switched distribution and cut their roster, leaving their new work without a home. Within months of this catastrophe, Radio Birdman disbanded.

The principals scattered, to Younger’s New Christs and Tek and Hoyle’s the Visitors; Tek, Younger, and Warwick Gilbert later joined MC5 drummer Dennis Thompson and the Stooges’ Ron Asheton in the one-off New Race. Tek also later recorded with Wayne Kramer and Scott Morgan of Ann Arbor’s Rationals in Dodge Main.

Radio Birdman’s original lineup reunited for a 1996 tour; in August 2006 – after four of the original sextet regrouped to record a potent new album, Zeno Beach – the band played its first American date ever, at Los Angeles’ Wiltern Theater. Your correspondent was there, and it was freakin’ incredible.

IN MY HEART THERE’S A PLACE CALLED SWAMPLAND

The Scientists, founded 1978 in Perth

Among the important Aussie bands of the ‘70s, the Scientists were among the first to be directly influenced by the punk explosion in New York.

As guitarist-singer-songwriter Kim Salmon – the lone constant in the Scientists’ lineup during their existence – wrote in 1975, “Reading about a far-off place called CBGB in NYC and its leather-clad denizens, all with names like Johnny Thunders, Richard Hell, and Joey Ramone, got me thinking…I immediately went searching for Punk Rock. What I found were The Modern Lovers and The New York Dolls albums.”

Salmon first dabbled in the new sound with a band bearing the delightfully punk name the Cheap Nasties. Cobbled together in Perth – the Western provincial capital of Australia – from members of such local acts as the Exterminators, the Victims, and Salmon’s the Invaders -- the early Scientists were as derivative as one might imagine. Their early songs, heard on their self-titled LP (the so-called “Pink Album”) and an early single and EP, sport original songs authored by Salmon and drummer-lyricist James Baker, the backbone of shifting Scientific crews through 1980. The tunes range from straight-up Dolls/Heartbreakers rips (“Frantic Romantic,” “Pissed On Another Planet,” “High Noon”) to buzzing romantic pop-punk in a Buzzcocks vein (“That Girl,” “She Said She Loves Me”).

Not terribly promising stuff, but, after the departure of Baker for the Hoodoo Gurus in 1981 and a brief stint in a trio called Louie Louie, Salmon assembled a new Scientists who would prevail for nearly four years. That outfit – Salmon, guitarist Tony Thewlis, bassist Boris Sujdovic, and drummer Brett Rixton – promptly relocated to Sydney and started making the noise they are noted for.

By that time, Salmon had begun cocking an ear to the Birthday Party (and no doubt paid careful attention to the sordid noise on the Melbourne group’s 1982 album Junkyard), had discovered the miasmic voodoo of the Cramps, and started grooving to the dissonant, slide guitar-dominated racket of Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band. In short order, he would also absorb the bluesy downhome assault of Los Angeles’ roots-punk outfit the Gun Club.

The Sydney-based Scientists hooked up with indie label Au Go Go, which issued a devastating run of careening, mossy records by the band in 1982-83 – the vertiginous singles “This is My Happy Hour”/“Swampland” and the corrosive “We Had Love” (backed by a faithful cover of Beefheart’s “Clear Spot”), and the heart-stopping mini-album Blood Red River, which bore the churning “Set It On Fire,” “Revhead,” and “Burnout.” Others were essaying a similar style, but the Aussie youngsters were beating their elders at their own game.

Eying the big time, the band moved to London in 1984. Some opportunities presented themselves initially: The band got European tour slots with the Gun Club and early Goth act Sisters of Mercy. But their deal with Au Go Go fell apart acrimoniously; while they made a pair of fog-bound albums, You Get What You Deserve (1985) and The Human Jukebox (1987) for Karbon Records (and a set of re-recorded songs, Weird Love, was issued in the U.S. by Big Time Records), they scraped by in Britain.

Defections from the ranks commenced in ’85, and by early 1987 the depleted Salmon used money from a housing settlement to move back to Australia, where he founded a new band, the Surrealists.

Still valued among the cognoscenti, Salmon, Thewlis, Sujdovic, and latter-day drummer Leanne Chock appeared, at the invitation of Seattle’s Mudhoney, at London’s All Tomorrow’s Parties Festival in 2006. Earlier this year, Chicago-based archival label the Numero Group issued a comprehensive four-disc box of the band’s original recordings.

So, at the end of the day, who is the all-time champeen of ‘70s Oz rock?

Scoring on points, the Saints are tops for Being Punk First with additional wins in the Pure Noise and Weltzschmerz categories, Radio Birdman takes the Technical Ability and Old-School Attitude slots, and the Scientists prevail in the Loud Young Snot and Grunge Thug division.

And the championship belt goes to…the Saints!

Of course, that could all change tomorrow, but that’s rock ‘n’ roll for ya.

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