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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years ago

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Human!Greasy Weasel x AFAB!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: You find your best friend in his room with the lights off and a sheet over the mirror. // You and Greasy have been best friends your whole lives, and when you were around 16 you made a set of rules with each other to keep each other- one of which was No fucking. You’re about to break that rule.

You said you need to lose two or three

You’d never say all that to me.

I hate hearing you say that

Oh, that comparison game, it will never play fair.

Say you ain’t beautiful, let me stop you right there.

(That’s My Friend You’re Talkin’ About, Tenille Arts)

Warnings: Body negativity (Body positivity too, though. It wins.), and smut (Mentions of reader having a pussy and boobs, and Greasy cumming inside). Unedited for now apart from the smut, its bedtime.

Tags: @disney-android-foundation , @marinerainbow , @moxiiscool , @ryantryan6969 , and @spookiifi . I hope y'all like this 😅 Please let me know if you want to make any changes to the conditions of me tagging you in things! 😅😅 Have a wonderfulll day ^^

After unlocking the door with your own key, a gift from Greasy on your birthday last year along with a note that said you’re always welcome in his room~ and a voucher for a spa day, you slip out of your coat and hang it up beside Smartass’ pink jacket and kick the door closed behind you. Its freezing outside, but its lovely in here. Psycho must have messed with the thermostat when Smartass wasn’t looking, you guess. Ohh, he is not going to be happy when he realises… and, God, you hope to see it. You love the chaos around here- if you could live here, you totally would! Alas, you’re just another mouth to feed to Smarty, so you just make do with coming over all the time.

As you make your way through the house, looking for Greasy, you steal an apple from the bowl in the kitchen - not a banana. You learnt the hard way that your poor, perverted friend can’t handle that. No phallic foods when he’s around, that’s one of your friendship’s rules, and a pretty important one in fact just under ‘No fucking’, - when no ones looking, and flash Stupid a smile when he waives at you. He’s so sweet, if you could steal anyone from this house it would definitely be him. Unfortunately, Smartass is pretty touchy about the idea of you adopting any of his men.

When the boss notices you’re there, looking up from the stove with a tired sigh, you give him a waive too- but he’s not as reciprocal as Stupid is. He rolls his eyes and groans, looking back to the veggies he’s frying. “What are you doin’ here… “

“Why do you think?” You ask, holding the stolen apple behind your back and leaning against the kitchen wall.

Instead of answering your question, which was rhetorical anyway, Smartass shakes his head. “Why you gotta… Ugh. You make my life harder.”

You give a sigh, fake sympathetic. “Oh, I know.” He loves you really. He just doesn’t know it; He’s not in contact with those emotions.

“You’re a bad influence on my boys.” He continues, all woe-is-me as he stares into his lifeless, soulless vegetables.

“Sorry, ma’am, but I knew at least one of them before you did- I have jurisdiction on him!”

“Whatever,” Smartass rolls his eyes again. “Get outta my kitchen. Dinner’s on in an hour, and you betta eat everything tonight or you’re stayin’ back ta do the dishes.”

As Smartass isn’t looking at you and you’re turning around anyway, towards the door, you take out the apple and rub it on your shirt sleeve. “Yessir- “You almost bump into another member of the household slipping into the kitchen, but he catches you by the arms and guides you around- so you’re out, and he’s in. A warm smile immediately slips across your face. You always had a thing for this one. “Wheezy- Hi! Looking especially rugged, today.”

“Hey, Y/N… thanks.”

“You’re welcome~”

He rolls those steal blue eyes up towards the ceiling, one corner of his mouth not impeded by cigarettes quirks up, and you feel like absolutely melting. “… Yeah. Well. I’m gonna go. But- you’re here to cheer up Grease, right?”

… That’s odd. What? Why would Greasy need cheering up? The confused, suddenly serious look on your face tells Wheezy all he needed to know and he gives a heavy, smoky sigh; Twisting his body to look at his boss. You follow his gaze, an eyebrow raising. “Y’didn’t tell em?”

“They’re gonna find out when they smell the enchiladas all the way down the hall. Why should I?”

“Enchiladas of Despair??” You ask, eyes wide and concerned. Greasy only makes enchiladas when he’s sad. They’re his comfort food. What happened???

“Mhm, yeah. Enchiladas of despair.” Wheezy nods in agreement, sucking in a good draw of tobacco before talking again. “… He’s in bad shape, Y/N. I was just gonna say, if you’re here to fix ‘em- be careful. Stupid went up there earlier and tried to bribe him out and the guy came down crying.”

Eyes going even wider, not even attempting to hide your apple from Smartass anymore as it hangs in your hand where he can see it, you frown deeper. “He made Stupid cry??”

“Yeah, but you know Stupid. He probably forgot- he’s happy as a fiddle, now, watchin’ his cartoons.”

That’s a tiny relief. “Okay. I’m gonna go see what I can do now- “Quickly, you give Wheezy’s arm a squeeze, before turning to head up the stairs. “Thank you.”

“Goodluck!”

When you reach Greasy’s room you just walk right in, closing the door behind you again and plunging you both into the darkness inside. And yep, you can definitely smell the enchiladas. But what’s weirder? You can see them. They’re sitting untouched, probably cold now, on the dresser. The fork beside it is clean.

With lips pursed, you continue to take a survey of the room, noticing that its mostly normal - tidy, apart from the creepy pictures of women taken by perverts, ripped out of magazines, and tacked to one wall by Greasy, which looks like an insane shrine… but that’s normal, -, except for the enchiladas and… his mirror.

Its just a frameless mirror leant on one of the walls that Greasy uses to do his hair in the morning, but right now its covered with a sheet- and your heart plummets into your stomach, seeing that. You can take an educated guess at what this is about. You’ve been there.

Feeling sick thinking about what he must be feeling right now, you push further into the room, finding him sitting very still on the ground behind his bed; His back against the frame. His hat is on, tugged over his eyes and he’s curled up tight, his knees hugged into his chest. When you sit down beside him you notice that he’s fully dressed still, from his shoes to his jacket and his tie. He looks prim and proper. Handsome as ever.

But the look on his face is terrible. Its like... like… like all those self-deprecating thoughts people think about themselves, he is having. And it’s overwhelming him.

Your heart bleeds, seeing him like that.

Ever-so-gently, you reach over and graze the brim of his hat, pushing it up his forehead. “Hey Greasy… “You start, whispering. You want to reach over and just cuddle him until he feels better, hold your friend until he smiles and says something about your boobs, but you wouldn’t want to be touched right now so you assume he doesn’t. But its torture. “… What happened?... “

For a few moments, he doesn’t say a damn thing. Refusing to even move. But you know your friend, you’ve been stead-fast in each other’s lives for over 2 decades, and you know to be patient. Don’t force him, he’ll just lash out… but don’t leave him either, he needs you.

Finally, he lets out a huff, shifting to hold his arms over his knees instead; Clenching and unclenching his fists. The tendons in his arms move, before he viciously tugs down his sleeves. “Nothing happened, hermosa.” The words that come out from between his teeth are poisonous, the tone in his voice actually painful to hear, but you don’t back down. He still calls you sweet nicknames; He wants you here.

He always wants you here.

Sighing, you affectionately run your hand over his arm closest to you; From his shoulder to his wrist, then back up and you squeeze his shoulder. “… Are you sure?? I hate to see you like his.”

“I’m absolutely fine.”

Here, you just give him a very sad look, and brown eyes watch you carefully in the dark; Reading you, assessing you, just knowing that you’re there, and you don’t look like you’re moving any time soon, which you are not- not until he’s better.

“… I need to lose weight.”

“You what?!”

“Well, I’m not Stupid, but- I have fat. And it must go. I… its wrong. It has to go. I can’t- I can’t be so weak. I need to not eat, so much. Then- then I will be attractive… sí?”

“No, not sí. You are attractive, Greasy! Very! And you need to eat!”

“I have a pot belly, Y/N… that isn’t good.”

“Your pot belly is sexy.” You insist defiantly, refusing to accept this. No! When he rolls his eyes at you, a venomous look in them, and attempts to look away from you- brush you off as a kind friend- your jaw drops. Nope- he is not going to shut you up that easily. No.

You get up from your spot next to him and put yourself directly in front of him, a look of determination on your face. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now but I’m never gonna stop saying it. You are handsome, Greasy. You’re hot. You’re my best friend and I wouldn’t let anyone else say that about you- and I won’t let you say it about yourself. You can lose weight if you want, fine, I’ll help you- but you do not have to. If someone can’t appreciate belly and hips, then they are missing out.”

… He looks displeased. “This is not about others’ perceptions. “Oh, bullshit. “This is about me not enjoying the way I look in the mirror. I like the way that Wheezy looks, he is… that, is good. That is what I want.”

“Wheezy lives on a diet of tobacco and breath mints. Greasy, you hate smoking and you love food- you can’t live like that!”

“You find him attractive!” Greasy insists, getting loud. “Are you going to deny it?? You’ve told me a million times that you like him- that he is sexy- you can’t act like you don’t, now. You’re a terrible liar.”

“I don’t want to deny it! But there are different kinds of attractive, Grease! I’ve also said I’d fuck Stupid, if you remember. And Smartass. And Psycho, though god knows that would go terrible.” Dropping down onto your heels, you give him a serious look. “Don’t compare yourself to others- you’ll never win that game. No one wins that game.”

“You don’t understand- “

“Greasy.” There’s a pleading tone in your voice.

“What?” There’s a sharp one in his.

… Oh, for gods sake. You can’t talk over his knees like this. There’s no resistance when you push his knees apart and move in between them, putting your hand son his shoulders and making him look at you; Even with that nasty, mean, defensive-offensive look on his face. Squeezing his shoulders, you force a soft look on your face. “… I love you.”

… He’s forced to let out a gentle, though quite exasperated sigh, at you. “I know that, hermosa- “

“Ah ah ah- “You’re not finished, so you gently cut him off; Holding up a firm finger to him. “And, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Greasy sneers. “Not even to spare my feelings?”

“No.”

This makes him stop, looking dubiously at you. “… you wouldn’t, huh?” He doesn’t sound like he believes you. The ghost of that sneer is still on his face.

“When have I ever let it fly when you acted like a pig?” Here, he doesn’t say a word. You caught him. “Never, I have never acted okay with that. You’re a dog and creep-and-a-half and I’ve called the police on you myself a couple of times.”

“… oh yeah. I remember that.”

“I posted bail for you in the morning, but still.”

“Okay, your point has been made.”

Good. Smirking in victory, you set your hands once again on his shoulders and lean down to press your forehead gently against your best friend’s. “… So when I say you’re hot as hell, Grease… I mean it. Do you give in?”

Finally, you can feel the muscles in his body relax and watch a gentle smirk back spreads across his mouth- which is devastatingly attractive, and you appreciate seeing it. “… You force my hand, mi vida.”

In response you just hum, your smirk turning into a pleased grin as you lean in further and hug him like you wanted to from the start.

A few minutes later and the two of you are picking at the lukewarm enchiladas and chatting away like normal. Greasy’s just taking gradual bites but you’re just happy to see him eating (Who cares if neither of you are hungry for Smartass’ dinner). He teases you about how hot you find him, he wonders how you have hidden the fact that you want to sleep with him so badly all these years, and you laugh. You roll your eyes.

You say ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’, and like it when he grins.

It’s a couple of minutes even later, when you’ve pushed the plate aside and you’re sitting side-by-side, your shoulders touching, that you kiss.

It’s not an unexpected thing, you’re not taken by a sudden urge; You feel it bubbling up when you turn and see a look in his warm brown eyes. Your faces were already so close and you could feel his breath on your lips, that it didn’t feel crazy at all to lean over and mould your lips together.

The kiss is slow, but hot, open-mouthed almost immediately because you both know what you want and you know each other too well, you like each other too much, to beat around the bush. You don't need it. It’s an excellent kiss, you admit. You’ve never known anyone who kisses you the way you truly wanted them to… until Greasy.

And really, you’re not particularly surprised by that fact.

The way your heads are tilted against each other allows your mouths to connect in a perfect, sensual way, and his tongue feels like magic against yours. It takes everything in you to pull back for air.

“… we shouldn’t. The rules- “

“Oh, we were destined to break the rules, mi vida. You and I both know it.”

“… “Well, he’s not wrong. Instead of arguing even a moment more, you let him connect your lips once more and move to straddle his hips. Its not long making-out that Greasy gives a growl into your mouth and pulls at your hips- grinding you against the firm bulge in his pants that you’ve seen something like million times, before (You never thought you would be the one preparing to sink down on it). Your breath hitches, your cheeks and neck burning hot in the still-dark room as you let your hands feel down your best friend’s body; From his neck, to his chest, to his belly. When you go there, he growls once again and deepens the kiss on you, using his tongue against you in an evil way that would definitely have made your knees completely buckle if you had been standing.

When kissing isn’t enough anymore, when you’re curious for more of him and he’s desperate to touch places he’s only considered (Pictured, imagined, fantasised about) before, you leave his lips behind and lay back on the ground- guiding him after you. “Show me your moves, Grease.”

“Trust me, cariño, I plan to.”

“How do you say it in Spanish?... por favor?... “Your fingers find his belt and work carefully at undoing it while Greasy presses kisses all along your jaw…

… then down your neck… “You say that with the grace of a native, cariño.” ... over your breasts through your shirt...

“Ha,” You give a giggle, high off the lust and his company, and getting his pants undone. You know you jumbled ‘por favor’. “Very smooth.”

He leaves your heated skin for a moment, just to raise himself high enough to smirk darkly down at you. “I try.”

While he’s looking at you, you raise your brows and reach into his plain white boxers- pulling out his length while watching his expression. His smirk immediately crumples, and its so hot, he wants so badly to just fuck. Even if its just your hand, even if its just the air. He’s a desperate little whore… he’s so lucky you’re no better.

You’ve never felt so wet and ready just from kissing, just from touching him. You guess Greasy is special.

When his eyes flicker over you, breathing heavily underneath him, and realises that your pants are still on he gives a disappointed frown and shakes his head; Going to rectify the issue immediately. “Estos no están ayudando. Estos tienen que irse. ¿Por qué siguen aquí? Necesito verte ahora mismo.” His fingers are cold on your skin but you help him anyway, lifting your hips for him and then kicking off the clothing completely when he manages to yank it down your thighs and your calves. “… remind me to taste you some time.” He says, breathy, laying eyes on your perfect, sloppy cunt.

“I definitely, will.”

“Good.”

It feels like you have been waiting for this for years, like all this time has been foreplay and finally, you were both ready. Finally, you were able to guide the head of his aching, hot cock to your slippery entrance. When the tip rubs against your clit you give a sweet, needy sigh, just before Greasy thrusts the rest of the way inside you and that sweet little sigh becomes a slutty moan; Raising your hips up against his simultaneously.

You say things that would be embarrassing if you were with anyone but him; Begging things, needy things, desperate things- anything to make him fuck you harder. You just want him, all of him. You want his width stretching your pussy wide open, you want his tip kissing your cervix, you want his balls hitting your ass every time he pushes all the way in again-

You want his lips against yours, you want his shoulders beneath your hands, the feel of his familiar green zoot suit under your fingertips, the toxic smell of his cologne and his hair products, the taste of his skin on your tongue.

You didn’t know fucking your best friend could be this intoxicating- if you had, you probably wouldn’t have wasted all that time trying to get Wheezy.

Greasy’s talking, too- all Spanish, all fast and unintelligible, but by the way he’s pounding you with all his strength, you can tell that it must be a rave. When you knock his hat off and lose your fingers in his hair, opening your thighs up wider too and arching up into him, you swear you hear the word pornstar amongst all the growly Spanish.

Somewhere amid the horny lust-fuelled haze, like you’re just too dumb teenagers wanting to fuck each other’s brains out because its all so new and exciting, you vaguely consider where he’s going to cum. But those thoughts get lost when he changes pace and angle.

When he does cum, it is somehow at the exact same time as you do- you both experience the black-out pleasure of orgasm together, your pussy squeezing him for absolutely everything he has like a python or a divorce lawyer.

… You lay for a minute once its over, Greasy still inside of you and his nose buried in your neck, your eyelids fallen shut and just relaxing in the dark… peaceful grins on both your faces. “For the record, hermosa… I love you deeply, as well. I don’t think I said that… “Greasy mutters clearly to you, though its slightly muffled by your shirt. Giving a giggle, you throw your arm over your eyes and nod. Yeah, you know.

After another moment, Greasy takes a deep breath and lifts himself away from you. When you open your eyes to see what he’s doing, he’s standing above you and offering you his hand, which you take without a second thought.

He leads you up and into his bed, which he slips into as well, cuddling into you once again.

Neither of you would be finishing Smartass’ dinner tonight. You wouldn't even leave the bed.

#Greasy Weasel x Reader Oneshot #Greasy Weasel x Reader #Greasy Weasel #Oneshot #Smut #Toon Patrol #Toon Patrol x Reader

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purpleflower19072 · 2 years ago

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In The Defense Of Shadow The Hedgehog 2005

In 2005 Shadow got his own spinoff game. Since then the game has a bad reputation within the Sonic community. I see Sonic fans on different platforms rate this game as the worse Sonic game next to '06 and Rise Of Lyric. However, I argue that Shadow The Hedgehog is an average Sonic game and it's not that bad. I am speaking as someone who has played all of these games. I have also been playing Shadow The Hedgehog for about 13 years now.

'06 and Rise of Lyric were glitchy. Right now I am doing a playthrough of '06 and I don't think Shadow The Hedgehog is anywhere near that. I am mostly speaking for the Gamecube version of Shadow. From my experience Shadow does not have game breaking glitches and all the deaths I experienced were fair. The issues I do see with Shadow are level design and handling. I feel like the handling issues are in SA1, SA2, and Heros as well. I feel confident that I will hit my target with the homing attack and I will get on a rail when I need to. The deaths are not random either.

A lot of people's problems with Shadow is the different story lines and the fact that there is a true end. I understand why people don't like it however to take that away from the game will make the game lose its identity. The different endings are more of a what-if scenario. As a kid I use to write stories about Shadow after the different endings. These ending show different aspects of Shadow's emotions. This was back when Sonic characters were allowed emotions. I think my favorite ending has to be the one with Vector. Shadow is seen with regret and displays sadness for what happened on the Ark. I feel this ending had a lot of potential for Shadow's healing. One ending was funny. Shadow wants the be the best hedgehog.

Other opponents of the game say that Shadow is out of character. I don't think Shadow is total out of character. 2010s Shadow is way off in the left field. There are many moments within this game that Shadow is perfectly in character. Especially when you play the Maria Ark levels and the True Ending. Another thing I love about Shadow's character in this game was his sense of humor. He cracks jokes throughout this game. I see Sega trying to stop other writers from making Shadow funny. Its bizarre to me. In this game Shadow had said: "It's like taking candy from a baby which is fine by me" and "I didn't know this baby could fly". Also, the edginess is aesthetic more than a character trait. Sure Shadow used a gun but he was just using something that was available to him. There are some missions that require a gun. The mission that comes to mind is helping Tails with getting 400 rings. Using a gun for a shooting range makes sense.

"Oh but Shadow cusses", some say. I mean, I would cuss too if aliens were taking over the world. If I got shoot by a robot look alike "damn" would not be the word I would use. Cussing is not a big deal. I heard 3rd graders say worse than what anyone in this game said.

This game is just fun as hell. The adventure formula worked well. There are stages I play because they are fun. My favorites are Cryptic Castle and Lost Impact. The levels where Shadow had to use the GUN mech reminds me of Eggman and Tails levels in SA2. With this game staring Shadow Sega was allowed to experiment a little. This game also had personality that I feel like is missing. 13 years of playing this game and I still love every moment. This game has really sexy graphics.

Now why am I writing this. The main thing is, I feel like this game get hated on more than it should. This game is my favorite and for the longest time people would tell me that my taste was bad and this is a shit game. I understand why people don't like this game. I just see people hating on this game like how it's trendy to hate on '06. Also, tastes in anything is subjective. I hate seeing how this game and many Sonic games from the 2000s get labeled as a "dark era". To me, this was a golden age. A lot of cool stuff was happening and it was fun. Unfortunately, a bunch of adults at that time told us we didn't know what we wanted and that we were ruining Sonic. Then we got the 2010s. Shadow got delegated to the background and all of his nuaces stripped. It felt exhausting only playing Sonic and having a story that only has Sonic. In the end of the day: like what you like. We have 3 generations of Sonic and we are now heading into a 4th generation. (this now feels like K-pop).

Another thing, I want Shadow The Hedgehog to be ported to the Switch. I would also love Shadow to be ported to the PC as well. I say the Switch because I could play Shadow wherever I want I would work on getting 'A's in all the missions. I currently have 4 copies. 2 on the Gamecube, 1 on the PS2, and a ROM on my computer. However, I want it available on a console that I play the most. I want the 2000s games to get the same treatment that the 90s games get. Sonic 1 always gets ported. Meanwhile games like Heroes, Riders, Shadow, Advance trilogy, '06, Storybook games, and Unleashed have never been ported. SA1 and 2 have been ported to the PC and I think the PS3. They have not been ported to other consoles. Just because some of these games were deemed "bad" doesn't mean they should disappear. These games were some people's childhood. All these games are over 10 years old. Shadow The Hedgehog is about 17. These are classics now and deserve a replay.

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog 2005 #sega #I think I will start a Twitter campaign to get Shadow ported #2000s games #classic

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carpenoctem-tharea · 1 year ago

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20 questions for fic writers

Thanks to @the-reading-lemon for tagging me here. It took me a few days to answer, but better late than never :)

How many works do you have on Ao3? 3

What's your total Ao3 word count? 161,814 words

What fandoms do you write for? So far, only Captain America (Stucky)

What are your top five fics by kudos? Since there are only 3 of them, here’s the top three: 3) Mission Protocol, 2) Press Pause To Halt The Game, 1) Press X To Jump. 2 and 1 both being part of my We Could Be Heroes Series (unofficially called "MCUJumanji")

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yep. I’m always super happy about comments. When I posted my first fic, I had to get a handle on constantly checking my mails for comments, but I think I’m getting better at not obsessing over my writing and the comments too much.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Well, to be honest I think I’m a sucker for non-happy endings. That being said, I do not plan on writing a not-happy ending for We Could Be Heroes - mostly because my friend and fic enabler will appear to smother me with a pillow (after writing a happy ending). But I planned a happy ending for that series anyway ;) So far, the angstiest ending is Press X To Jump. Not that Press Pause to Halt The Game does not have its fair share of angst, but I wanted to end that on a hopeful note (with at least one character’s pov).

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Considering that We Could Be Heroes is planned to be about 4 parts (and we’re finally moving to the happier endings with part 3!), it would be Mission Protocol.

Do you get hate on fics? So far, no.

Do you write smut? Yes, but none of it in those published fics ;)

Do you write crossovers? I have a WIP that has a crossover setting (kind of), as there is a quick blink-and-you-will-miss-it moment @the-reading-lemon's characters from Destruction of Ice appear (Sally Donovan, John Watson and Sherlock). Overall, however, it’s mostly focused on something else in the PsyChangeling world (with some mentions of the original characters by Nalini Sing). Other than that, no. I haven’t written any crossovers. I'm all for AUs apparently. Looking at my WIP folder/ideas there are definitely a few more AUs I'd love to do ... or just daydram about :D

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I’m aware of. Then again, I have only three published works (and only started publishing my writing on AO3 recently-ish).

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, but if you want to go for it, please do. It would be an honor if someone read my work and thought "you know what, I want to translate it". Funny story though I did translate two (and a half) fics for fun when I needed a distraction from writing my dissertation (on translation). And what better way to do that than translate 100k of fanfic on the side? :D I never published those though and it was more out of personal curiosity of how I would handle that in German. If I were to translate other fics I’d put just as much research and care into it as I do with my translations at work - and that is currently something I don't have the time or energy for. But maybe I'll re-translate those fics and check with the author if it's okay do add them to their work on AO3.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Technically, no. I only got to the plotting part after a friend told me about her story idea and we snowballed from there, agreed to never inflict our combined writing evilness on people and continued plotting. We didn’t really get to the writing part. For We Could Be Heroes, I had immense help from two friends who helped with bringing the plot into shape and navigating some roadblocks and character questions in general.

What's your all-time favourite ship? Tough question – I’d say any combination of Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson.

What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Oh god. I used to be so good at finishing things I was writing. Mostly because I hate jumping between different stories, so I made myself finish my current WIP before I could move on. Now, however, I have a few WIPs on my drive that have been there … a while. @the-reading-lemon will hate to hear it, but I fear it might be my pirate story (but one never knows, maybe I’ll finish it one day – all parts of it^^)

What are your writing strengths? Honestly, I’m not sure.

What are your writing weaknesses? Definitely one of my weaknesses is that I cannot keep things short (which can also help sometimes). When I re-read the first part of the We Could Be Heroes series, I noticed that some things were quite repetitive and I would cut them now. But when I moved on to part 2, I noticed that the repetition was not as bad anymore.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Being a German native, I love to see it! Other languages make things interesting in stories and I always love to see how it is handled (by characters in the story, and the author).

First fandom you wrote for? Don’t hate me, but thinking back I think it was Twilight. Although I have to say I didn’t know it that I was writing fanfic at the time – I just wanted Seth to have a nice story too :D After @the-reading-lemon had kindly dragged me into the fandom world and I willingly jumped down the rabbit hole of Captain America, it was Stucky.

Favourite fic you've ever written? From the three published ones, Press Pause To Halt The Game.

Tagging: Whoever feels like answering those questions.

#20 questions for fic writers #writing #asks #fanfics #personal

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pulchrasilva · 2 years ago

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Hey totally normal couple of posts you just made there but also WHAT. COULD I HAVE A CRUMB OF CONTEXT THAT IS SO FUCKING FUNNY DUDE

Ahsmaksnk alright I was planning to just say shit without context but since you asked for it, prepare to hear about the worst fucking person!

So context for this story, Thomas Sanders has been struggling with a skin condition that has (among other things) been causing him to lose his hair. He's made a couple of videos, the most recent one coming with the announcement that he was shaving his hair off and changing a few other things about his look as a way to feel more confident in himself. I will say that the reactions I've seen from most fanders has been overwhelmingly positive and I'm getting the impression that he's been much happier since

And I only find this because I'm looking the roleslaying with roman tag, and certain fanders have the unfortunate tendency to tag unrelated Thomas Sanders stuff with the roleslaying tag

So he did a photoshoot with the new look recently. And I find edits of the photo shoot to put his old hairstyle back on, with a caption like "I think the old hair really ties it together 😍".

This is pretty damn insensitive and I have a tendency to go fucking feral when people are assholes about hair so naturally I go to the roleslaying server to bitch about this. Apparently I'm not the only one who's encountered this person, because I didn't even say a url before everyone is like "ugh god this fucking person".

So we're all morbidly fascinated by this person and we start looking through their blog. It's fucking vile in there. Just a whole lot of "wow Thomas is so sexy" coupled with "his new hair is gonna make me stop loving him :/" to make it really clear that they apparently think of him more as an object rather than a person with the right to look how he wants.

Turns out that they've been told directly that this is making Thomas uncomfortable and they haven't stopped. Their response to being criticised about this is genuinely hilarious. It includes some real gems like "I know it may seem like my love is conditional but it's not" (do you know the meaning of conditional) and "I just have some genuine concerns and criticisms" (you don't get to have genuine concerns about other peoples bodies) and "im not body shaming him" (this is absolutely body shaming. Honestly after hes been so vulnerable about his hair I'd say its worse than those other people) and "fanders can't handle even the slightest criticism towards Thomas 🙄" (maybe a fair criticism but what you're doing here is not criticism at all it's just being an asshole)

Apparently they got cancer as a kid or something and thought they were gonna lose their hair, so they get triggered by other people shaving their hair. And there was something about being afraid of change in there too. They described in great detail about how Thomas shaving his hair left them hyperventilating, and how when their irl crush said she wanted to shave her hair they kept dropping hints about how much they hated the idea until she left.

Honestly I'm concerned about them, other people's hair should not be leaving you this distressed. Like they need some help and I don't mean that in the "I don't like them so I'm gonna make jokes about them going to therapy way" I mean that entirely genuinely. I'd feel worse for them if they weren't such an asshole about it though. Like idgaf about your sob story if you're using it to justify asserting your own desires about how someone looks above their comfort and boundaries

Anyway yeah that's the reason I'm never gonna think about the silly fight with the bald guys in the same way every again. I mean I'm exaggerating but yeah

#tbh i think this person really upset me i couldnt sleep last night bc i was thinking about Hair Stuff #i was in a thinking about my hair mood (terrible and the worst) anyway and this probably didn't help #ask #uhh how do i even tag this??#ts discourse #love how often im using that tag considering i have it blocked #making this unrebloggable bc i dont really want it to spread at all

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hotwings0203 · 4 years ago

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I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.

Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?

In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.

But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.

Or so he tells himself.

“Slut”

“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him

“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”

Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.

“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”

It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.

“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”

But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.

He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.

You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.

The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.

You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.

He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.

It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.

But then, he speaks.

“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”

His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.

Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.

“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.

He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.

A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.

You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.

It drives Dabi crazy.

He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.

But your silence is something he’s not used to.

Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.

You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.

You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.

So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.

“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”

Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.

“And Dabi?”

“What about him?”

She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”

“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”

“He likes you.”

You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”

The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.

“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”

You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.

“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”

No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.

You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.

“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”

“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.

“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”

Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”

“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”

And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.

You were fucked.

And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.

“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.

You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.

No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.

He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.

“After you.”

You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.

A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.

Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.

You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.

“Dabi.”

“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”

He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.

You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned

“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“

“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”

In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.

But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.

So he does exactly what one does as a villain.

Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”

You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.

“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”

You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.

“Why?”

“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”

Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.

He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.

So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.

Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.

You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.

He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.

Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

“Dabi, wait, please stop-“

But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.

“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”

He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .

Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.

But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.

You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.

And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .

#dabi imagine #yandere dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha smut #yandere dabi #tw: noncon #touya #bnha touya #touya todoroki #Dabi #dabi x reader

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makeste · 3 years ago

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BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

#bnha 326 #all might #yagi toshinori #stain (bnha)#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years ago

Text

My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why... ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well.

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh.

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it.

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..."

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?�� His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”

573 notes · View notes

mythomagically-delicious · 3 years ago

Text

Okay so in a better world au ford and fiddleford created the Institute and made up, right? What happened to stan?

The point of that first post about "the twist" was this: what if Stan and Ford switched bodies and stans was sent into the portal with ford inside, and Stan in Ford's body remained behind. Stan immediately tries everything to turn it back on, to no avail. He went thru hundreds of papers and notes trying to understand ANYTHING and he got some general idea that ford had had a research partner out here who knew things- knew ford, knew the portal, he could help!

Stan in Ford's body races to town instead of staying isolated in the cabin for four weeks, and finds fiddleford. Fiddleford looks confused and stranger than the notes suggested but it matches up. He begs fiddleford to help him, and despite the falling out fiddleford has enough fondness for his old friend remaining that he is swayed. He doesn't get his full mind erased by the society bc he isn't abandoned fully and left wandering the town to be targeted by blind Ivan in his power grab.

Fiddleford and Stan (in Ford's body) go back to the shack and stan starts to take him to the basement when fidds starts freaking out, yelling and crying about the world-shattering consequences. About the things he saw, rhe demon, and more. Stan calms him down, takes him back upstairs. He's frustrated to high heaven and back but he knows he could never do this alone.

(He hasn't told fiddleford who he really is. Yet. He will, he just needs some help first. Who would help a loser like stan? But ford has a friend, he can be ford for a little bit to work the angle and get his brother back.)

It takes time. Way too much time, for Stan, but fiddleford slowly recovers enough of his sanity and calms his nerves enough to go down to the basement and not freak out. Stan admits to anything fiddleford asks him about, anything he saw from Ford's notes and makes it convincing that he's asking for a second chance. Maybe they could rebuild it, better? Without demon assistance?

Fiddleford helps tear it to shreds. They mark every part as they dismantle it and fiddleford searches for the reasons it opened a portal to nightmares. He doesn't follow schematics blindly, any more, no more blind trust to his friend. But he does help. Stan is learning on the job. He isn't convincing in the slightest of being a genius but fiddleford is too frazzled to notice. He's got his own shit going on.

They tear it down. Stan is afraid and angry and desperate but he holds his shit together. Fiddleford regains more of himself as they go. Stan learns more about ford and fiddlefords time together as fiddleford recovers memories and tells them to Stan. Stan makes his own notes, of how to Be Stanford Pines.

In time, they get to a stable place of living in the shack together, Stan trying to learn as much as he can about this science shit, pretending he was hit by the memory gun into forgetting himself when fiddleford questions it. Fidds is afraid to go confront the society, and can't remember where they are anyway. Stan doesn't care about it as long as his cover isn't blown. He hasn't told fiddleford yet. He will! But not yet.

They begin to plan a new, stable trans-dimensional vortex. It takes a whole hell of a lot, but they slowly build it anew. Still in the cursed basement, not even a skeleton of the old machine left after they destroyed it the first time.

Stan is flying less by the seat of his pants. Taking a leaf from Ford's book and staying up to radically terrible hours of the night studying and trying to understand all the science and math shit to make this work, to keep stringing fiddleford into helping him. Fidds takes time for his own projects and Stan doesn't bug him about it, saying if it makes money to split it, and when fiddleford hits a big invention that also happens to patent well and spread? They use the money to help their new portal.

It takes ten years to do it, but they recreate the portal, this time to a place they can control thru careful calibration. Fiddleford writes a scientific paper about it, publishes it with ford as a co-author, and they get international renown. Stan knows how to work a crowd and he uses their leverage to get people invested in investing, so to speak. It's not cheap to fund the energy required to turn it on, so they expand the building and create the Institute of Oddology, given enough time and building and circumstances lining up just right.

Fiddleford runs the teams and the day to day stuff. Stan handles finances and resource allocation and scheduling tours, interested parties, rivals, anything business side. He and fiddleford go to the first stable dimension together , though, and Stan uses all of the science gizmos at their disposal to search for ford while they're there.

He doesn't find him. He still hasn't told fiddleford. Its been too long at this point, right? What if he takes the money and fame and everything and kicks Stan out for lying? He mostly rode fiddlefords genius to get here, there's no way he'd not be mad about this.

They go to many dimensions. Stan takes samples and learns scientific process thru osmosis over the years and contributes to publishibg written works to the greater scientific community.

He looks for Ford. He finds nothing. He tells no one his true purpose for everything he's achieved to that point. He lies and wears Ford's face and shakes hands and is a sham.

One day Fiddleford races to his office, frantic and eyes wide and hands shaking slightly like Stan hasnt seen in years. It's been 30 years since ford was lost to the portal. And fiddleford comes to him and says there's a parallel you, Stanford, in conference room B, we need to send him on his way immediately, you remember what happened to Ernie on that trip 8 years back?

And Stan ignores this, heart pounding, and knocks fiddleford out, locking him in the office, racing to conference room B.

He bursts in, and sees a version of his brother. One he doesnt see in the mirror. A real Stanford Pines, 30 years older than the kids they were when they fought beside the portal. Apparently no universe is fair, if ford ends up inside in multiple dimensions.

Stan is speechless. The portal!ford is on the defensive, but interest is clear in his face. He keeps his distance, cognizant of parallel!fiddlefords warning from before. Of counterparts meeting in a dimension of origin. Annihilation.

Stan cries. Ford looks shocked to see his own self in such a state. He doesn't know what to do. Stan surges forward for a hug and Ford tries to dodge, afraid of the consequences. Stan traps his hands to his sides and sobs on Ford's mysterious black coat, calling him brother. Ford's inner alarm bells go off even as he clenches his eyes shut against the incoming total destruction.

When nothing happens except for a wet patch to grow on Ford's clothes, he opens his eyes and studies himself. They look scarily similar, truth be told. His counterpart heartier than he, an interdimensional fugitive. That makes sense. Parallel ford is apologizing into his jacket and clutching him hard enough to leave bruises.

Ford dodges out of the grapple his counterpart has him in. He demands answers in a clipped tone. Stan does his best to reign it back in as he confesses what transpired in this dimension to this dimension traveling ford. How he hopes his own brother, trapped in stans body, is still out there, still surviving, still where Stan can find him.

Ford starts a fight. Stan defends himself but it gets physical and he doesn't have the same instincts to take down he did when he was younger. He remembers the last fight he had with his brother, and doesn't want that to happen again.

Fiddleford eventually gets free of the office and runs in to see parallel ford beating the shit out of his ford. He stuns ford with a device on his belt and brings things back to some semblance of order, getting a first aid kit out to tend to them both. P!Ford's knuckles, mainly, and stans face.

The truth comes out, ugly and stained and fiddleford forgives Stan immediately. He turns to parallel ford and helps him out of the room, promising help with his weapon and more, later.

Stan is left with the knowledge that all these years later, no matter what he does, his brother hates him.

Fiddleford helps ford with his weapon. If ford can destroy bill cipher, more dimensions will open up to be explored. If his and stans ford is still alive out there, they'll have a better shot if Bill is out of the picture. They send parallel!ford off a few days later. Fiddleford goes to Stan that night and calls him by a name that hasn't been spoken in 30 years. Stan can barely look at him. Fiddleford gives him time and space, but tells him he understands.

A month and a half later, a ripple is felt thru thousands of dimensions at once, the death of Bill cipher in every iteration is making its way thru the multiverse. Celebrations are happening as people cheer and laud thr name of the one who saved them, spread in a cosmic understanding by some greater power. Stanley Pines, shatterer of Bill Cipher.

4 years later, they find Ford. Ford in Stans body is old, ragged. He's missing an eye and an arm and so much more of who he used to be. But they bring him home. He doesn't want to switch bodies back.

Stan feels guilt eat at him, but ford is different than the other traveler they'd met. He's more settled. He thanks Stan for finding him. Doesn't blame him for how long it took. Didn't think he'd be come for anyway.

It's strange and rocky but slowly strides are made to bridge the gap of decades and become people they want to be, again. Brothers, friends, explorers. They never body swap again, but they settle into themselves and own who they are.

#stanley and stanford #fiddleford mcgucket #parallel ford #a better world au #but with a twist #gravity falls #flash fic #i wrote this on my phone #electron carpet #body swap au

128 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Note

Patricia!! First of all congrats on a new follower milestone! Those are always so exciting and asking and you deserve every one of them! Could I possibly request 39: “I wish we could stay like this forever” and 80: “let’s run away together” from promo list 2 with Oberyn? I love how you write him and would die to see what you do with this 🥺 ily Patricia! And congrats again! ❤️

Anything for you, my love! Enjoy 🥺

(also not necessary but I am a fool - this could totally be read as a slice of life in INO)

Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader ; warnings: references to sex

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

The warmth, golden light filtered in through the sheer curtains, and the fresh, salty smell of the ocean and sound of chirping birds hit you all at once. It was a late, but beautiful and blissful morning and you were loath to get up. All you wanted was to stay here forever, wrapped up in the arms of your beautiful lover. Almost as if he sensed that you were up, you felt him grinning against your skin as he pressed a flurry of gentle, saccharine kisses to your chest and collarbones. You mumbled something into the soft pillow, something about wanting just five more minutes of sleep, but he just chuckled.

“Sleep is for the dead, sunshine,” he murmured as he worked his way up your neck and stopped at your lips.

"I wish we could stay like this forever," a small huff of air escaped your nose as you pouted at him, slowly opening your bleary eyes. You found his soft brown ones, crinkled sweetly in the corners as he grinned at you, studying your face intently, “good morning.”

“Speak for yourself,” you teased him, “it cannot be a good morning if I am being woken up at such an ungodly hour!”

“Ungodly hour,” Oberyn laughed - a twinkling, beautiful sound - before laying back down and pulling you on top of him. You made a small sound of surprise at the sudden motion, but quickly quieted down when you felt his warm, bare body against yours. His golden skin on yours was delicious and warm, soft and strong at the same time, a perfect juxtaposition - just like him. You laid your head onto his chest, “it is almost the afternoon, sweet girl, it’s hardly ungodly.”

“Why can I not enjoy the day in bed with my prince?” you sighed softly, running a hand through his dark curls, “why should I allow the world to part me from my lover in such a manner?”

“Unfortunately the world requires us to be present,” he chuckled as kissed the top of your head. You huffed lightly although you understood what he meant. You'd always known - from the moment you had met the handsome prince.

“And what’s more important? The world or me?” you joked as he grazed his fingers up and down your spine, leaving a wake of gooseflesh under his fingertips. You sighed into his touch before pressing a few kisses to his bare chest.

“You, of course,” he promised, “and you have me always, first and foremost. But sometimes the world needs their prince.”

"And what about me?" you said softly as his large hands landed thoroughly on your backside, giving the firm flesh of your ass a squeeze. You giggled wildly before turning to look up at him and grabbing his jaw, "play fair!"

"I am," he insisted as you kissed him, "you will always manage without me. For the world needs their prince, but what is a mere prince to the queen?"

"Shut up," you groaned at him before moving to sit up so you were straddling his lap, his body humming with gentle love under yours, "you are not even a prince - only a mere fool!"

"A fool for you," he insisted softly as his hands found purchase on your hips. You beamed at him, golden as the sunlight and causing his heart to melt, "let me show you how a queen - my queen - is treated."

"Oberyn," you gasped slightly as his hands wandered up your body and to your breasts, "I thought we had to get up and rejoin society?"

"I've changed my mind," he grinned, "the prince needs you instead."

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Its beautiful here," you were sprawled out on the lush, soft blanket, soaking up as much sun as possible. You were near the edge of the stunning lake, secluded and alone, as you listened to the soft lapping of the waves onto the shore. It was so serene and blissful, for a few moments you almost forgot that a world outside of this place existed.

Oberyn hummed in content as he popped a few fresh, plump berries into his mouth. He grabbed a particularly plump looking strawberry and held it out to you, dangling it just in front of your lips. You made a show of taking a large bite from the berry, letting the juice dribble from your lips and down your chin. He tuttled lightly before using his thumb to collect the juices and holding it out to you.

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled his thumb into your mouth before sucking it clean before slowly releasing it with a loud pop. He grinned at you, before pulling you in for a kiss.

"You are a very tantalizing little thing," he licked across your bottom lip, savoring the sweetness that lingered. You grinned against him before pulling away and lying back down on the blanket. Oberyn watched you for a few moments before lying next to you, his large hand grabbed yours and he defty laced your fingers together, "you're thinking much too loudly."

"I am doing nothing of the sort," you shrugged innocently, keeping your eyes closed in order to shield them from the sun - and Oberyn. He had a knack for being able to read every thought and feeling almost as if he was able to see into your soul. Naturally, there were a million things running through your mind at once, but you weren't going to tell Oberyn any of that - not yet anyway, "perhaps you're being too analytical."

"It wouldn't be the first time I've been accused of such a thing," he snorted in laughter, "but I, my sunshine, am also able to read to you - easily. Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours."

"And if I refuse to speak my peace?"

"Then I shall be forced to pull it out of you," he insisted softly as he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a delicate kiss to your knuckles. Sighing contentedly, you rolled onto your side so you could properly face him.

And he was beautiful - so stunning in his golden glory. He was older now, than when you'd first met him, calmer after everything he'd survived in King's Landing, even more wise and world weary than the best men. Which you supposed he was; a man with words as sweet as roses or sharp as hawthorne - it was easy to see why everyone fell at his feet, but he still reminded them of why he was the Red Viper.

The soft brown of his eyes, flecked with gold in the light, always seemed to betray him. At least to you anyways. His hair was longer these days, softer much like him, lightened by the sun and flowing into luscious curls. His facial hair has greyed slightly (from keeping up with all of the kids he always claimed), and he was more...him.

You'd always loved him, from the day he seemed to save you from a life of uncertainty and domineering men. But it has been a privilege to watch him grow, to see him become the best version of him - it was always thanks to you, he claimed, a guise you greatly disputed. But you loved him - your husband - more than the moon and all the glittering stars in the night sky.

Playing with you a lock of his soft hair, you continued to brush off the insinuation that anything was wrong, "nothing is the matter, Oberyn. I am merely enjoying the private company of my husband."

“And yet there is so much going on in that mind,” he mused, as you shrugged innocently, “so much buzzing, I’d think we were in Honeyholt and tending to the bees. My dear sunshine, you should know better by now - when have I ever let such a thing go?”

“You are incessant,” you groaned lightly, but appreciating the care and concern nonetheless, “it is silly - a mere folly that should not even worry me and alas, here I am.”

“If it matters to you, then it is not a mere folly,” he promised, “you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” you agreed with a small. You sat up slowly pulling your knees to your chest as you looked out into the sparkling water. Oberyn followed suit before moving to sit in front of you, putting his hand under your chin and turning your face up to his. He almost left you breathless with his easy beauty and warmth, “it’s just...I like this. Just you and me, no one else around, no worries, no duties. I...I hate to think once we return home it will all cease to exist - you will be forced to your duties, as I understand you must, and I? Well, I suppose I will be your dutiful wife, hoping and wishing for a chance to see her husband.”

“Then I suppose we should run away, shouldn’t we?”

“I...Oberyn...what?”

“I’m serious,” he insisted softly as you just laughed at his idealistic ways, “let’s run away together, even if just for a while. No one has to know...and when we are ready we shall return.”

“That is a temporary solution for a permanent problem, my love,” you gave him a weak smile before pulling out of his touch, “what about when we return to Dorne?”

“Always so serious, my sunshine,” he chuckled softly as you huffed at him, “you must ruin every little surprise, mustn’t you?”

“I have done nothing,” you insisted, sticking out your tongue at him, “all I do is care about my husband and I am teased and punished for being woeful and caring!”

“You have not been teased -”

“I have too, Oberyn Martell!”

“I will make it up to you, sweet girl,” he praised with a glint in his eye, “however, whenever, and wherever you should fancy. Now - will you let me finish?”

“I have not been-”

“Your prince demands it.”

“Well your queen insists that she hasn’t been doing anything of the short,” gave him a little smirk, “but go on and tell me about this so called surprise.”

“When we return home to Dorne, things will be different,” he promised as you raised your eyebrows in question, “I have been thinking, and don’t even say a word, and I think it’s time for me to...take a step back and let Doran and Arianne, as his heir, handle things from now. I am getting tired...weary, of all these tasks that should be left to the next ruler. Besides, Arianne is more than ready to take over. I think I should quite enjoy a quiet, leisurely life.”

“Oberyn,” your mouth dropped and formed a small o as you studied him to try and see if he was being honest. A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth before he broke out in a wonderful grin. You leaned over and kissed him, unable to stop yourself, “do you mean it? Please tell me this isn’t some sort of cruel joke.”

“I would never do such a thing,” he whispered as he pulled you into his lap and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I just think...it’s time. Besides, there is nothing more I want than to spend my day with you, and the girls - think of all the things we can do. There are still ways to help our people, but we will do it together.”

“You continually amaze me,” a single tear, this one of nothing but happiness and love had rolled down your cheek as you pressed your forehead against his, “and I will never know what I did to deserve you, and I will be forever grateful to the universe for bringing you to me.”

“Now you’re just flattering me,” he reached up and gently wiped away the tear, “for it should be the other way around. I take it as though you are not opposed to the notion?”

“Not at all,” you smiled softly, “I could have asked for nothing better.”

“Then what do you say?” his hand found the back of your neck as he gave you a gentle squeeze, “shall we run away? To Essos - the Summer Isles - far away from everything? Only to return when we decide we are ready to?

“Yes,” you eagerly agreed, delighted by the prospect of spending the days and nights at your husband’s side, without a care in the world, “I want nothing more.”

“Then it is settled,” he promised, “now, will you let me show you every way in which I love you?”

“Oberyn!” your face flushed with warmth as you looked around to make sure no was within ear shot, “we are out in the open! Anyway could...see.”

“And that is not our problem,” he shrugged simply, “we have told them not to disturb us, hopefully they heed our advice. But now, sweet girl, you are all mine.”

“Always,” you promised softly, “I am forever yours.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #got #oh my sweet prince #forever-rogue's follower celebration

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Girl [J.JK x Reader]🔞🌼☁️

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, angst because I like to cry myself to sleep

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom!jungkook, sub!Reader, size kink is still strong, mild dd/lg themes, praise kink, long haired jungkook because yes that needs to be a warning, strength kink, they fuck in the kitchen smh

Jungkook and you are in a healthy relationship, managing all those things couples have to manage; building an IKEA bed, having your first fight, or arguing who should do the laundry this time. Apart from that, your life inside your bedroom has been pretty active as well, leaving Jungkook more satisfied than ever. He's not a horny teenager anymore after all, trying not to bust a nut just because he got a glimpse of your nipples through your rather thin shirt- yet you always manage to be so unbelievably sinful, he can't help but snatch a taste every now and then. After all, you're his- he's simply reminding you.

This is part of the 'Good Girl'-Universe!

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jeon Jungkook and you loved to tease each other. From the way he would rub his sweat-soaked hair all over the crook of your neck playfully after his workout just to rile you up, just to exclaim happily that you love him too much to actually be serious when you yell that he's disgusting. And he's right- even if he's exhausting to be around sometimes with his seemingly endless energy (seriously, you're convinced at this point that he's the human embodiment of the energizer bunny), or how he could sometimes forget that you're not as tough as his other male friends that he was regularly around. You catch yourself laughing inside yourself every time you turn into a crybaby and tear up when a comment gets under your skin, because his entire body changes posture- every time he notices you getting hurt because he's too rough while playfighting, or when he again tells you you could just get your chubby butt up and work out with him, completely ignoring the fact that he knows its a very sensitive topic for you; he literally turns into a complete child who just got asked to explain rocket science. Jungkook isn't used to handle something as fragile as a girl- plus, you play along and usually brush off most things so easily, that he simply sometimes forgets that you actually have weak points.

One of these moments occured early on in your relationship; it was a silly mistake on his side really. When Taehyung asked him straight up if he was dating you, you didn't expect a huge love proposal; Jungkook wasn't like that. But a simple yes would've been okay as well- yet Jungkook being the cocky bastard he was, simply made a comment along the lines of 'nah, I'm just screwing her.' It was meant as a joke really, and it took him a good thirty seconds to notice your demeanor changing. Deep inside you, you knew he didn't mean it like that, yet it still hit you hard, especially considering his past hobby of trying to be the biggest manwhore around. When he'd went after you just when you had told him you'd be using the bathroom and not returning after a good ten minutes, he'd bursted into the womans bathrooms just in time to see you trying to wipe away your tears. His face had been priceless really now that you thought about it; before that moment you always had a hard time imagining that 'kicked puppy look' people always talked about- he didn't look like you just kicked him, but full on sucker punched his prized playstation out of orbit just for a laugh. He was totally unprepared and clearly had no idea what to do in that moment, never having needed to deal with tears in that way- and your face had hit him especially hard, considering how it was his fault at that. Considering how lost he really was he dealt with it quite sweetly, yet in a typical Jungkook fashion- uncaring of other woman and girls trying to get into the bathroom, he'd grabbed a considerable amount of tissue paper from the dispenser next to the sink you were standing in front of, promptly sitting you on top of it to properly have you at eye-level with him to wipe away your tears and smeared make up, telling you how you looked better without it anyways, and how sorry he was for being an utter asshole and idiot at the same time. You honestly started laughing at that. Not necessarily his comment even though it was true, but his extremely concentrated face, as if he was restoring an ancient artwork or something the likes of that. He audibly sighed at that, glad to know you didn't hate him. Because that was his innermost fear; you probably seeing the dickbag he thought he was underneath and leaving him for good. Not that he'd tell you that. You knew of that fear though.

Needless to say, it wasn't the only thing that happened between you both. Yet you've always overcome these things with ease, both of you growing surprisingly mature about arguments as time went on. Jungkook changed you as well- you were a wallflower before, and if you were honest, you kind of still were. But you were carrying yourself with a newfound confidence because of his daily praises- turning heads every now and then simply because you actually liked yourself these days. And Jungkook noticed as well- always commenting on how he didn't know if he liked the change or not, considering how much attention you now got everywhere you both went. You simply countered that with a simple comment along the lines of 'Now you know how I feel', because he was glowing up every month it seemed. Yet he stayed true to his words back then to you; he really did only have eyes for you anymore.

What really did piss him off was just how innocent you could be sometimes. It had him fuming how oblivious you could seem to others shamelessly flirting with you, yet he knew that he loved that about you just as much. The fact that you would willingly (and happily of course) let him corrupt you over and over again fuled his pride to no ends, making him feel like he was your knight in shining armor, even if it sounded sappy. Right now however he could really use some more patience, because he was sure his own amount was slowly running out. When he came back home, he didn't really have any plans, except for the one you had already agreed on. You both wanted to cook something tonight, nothing fancy, simply craving some kind of 'bonding time' as you called it, even though he had immediately told you this could be done in a different way, to which you blushed. He loved making you embarrassed, almost craving the way your flustered cheeks would turn into a beautiful red shade.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He knew those plans would change however as soon as he spotted you on the couch in his living room. That itself wasn't something new since you lived here, but the attire you chose was rather.. unfair. He was supposed to keep it in his pants tonight, yet he could already feel himself rising against the fabric of his sweatpants at the view of you in a black shirt of his, oversized on your way smaller body. Yet that exactly did it- because that was all you wore, apart from your flimsy pair of pastel blue lace rimmed panties. You raised your head from out of your book and he was a goner as soon as he saw those eyes.

"Babydoll you're being really unfair right now." He groaned as he sat down on the couch, making you bounce a bit next to him. You looked at him confused, his patience snapping. Maybe it was his frustration that had filled up his mind during the day, or simply his habit of taking what he wanted when he wanted it, but soon enough you found yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of his. His hands were fast to reach under your, or more so his shirt, growling when he felt your bare breasts underneath his fingers. You really were asking for it.

Stop. Mission abort. Cancel all open tasks. Shutdown, emergency-

With a sigh the young boy detached himself from you, running a hand through his hair rather agressively. Even though he would usually not feel too bad about his actions, especially with you, considering he felt rather safe and comfortable around you, he had to remember the small argument you both had the night prior. It really hadn't even been an argument if he was being honest, and it was basically all on him that night, yet he felt like he needed to second-guess his actions now. It had been a simple question really, admittedly a fair one at that, however, it also was one he rather feared answering. Yes, Jeon Jungkook was actually scared of a mere question.

'Why won't you kiss me?'

Well, yeah. Why wouldn't he? To answer that would mean to expose himself, to open himself up, to be vulnerable- and even though he knew deep down that you would never use anything against him in an almost predatory meanor others in the past had, he couldn't shake the feeling off. The fear, of what he couldn't tell. He simply waved you off, telling you that you both didn't need those sappy gestures, and you had simply nodded, accepting that, even though he knew that you felt hurt by his answer. Hell, he felt hurt by his own answer. And what had hurt him even more was your reaction to it; somehow he wanted you to be offended, to openly dig at his wounds, to scratch at his scars and make him spill his blood into your hands. He didn't want you to feel like he only loved you physically, like he only wanted to own your body, because he craved so much more than your touchable form. He wanted to build his home into your very soul, wanted to surround himself with your voice and live in your very heartbeat- yet it didn't matter how romantic and oh-so poetic his own thoughts could be. It didn't matter at all if he couldn't say it.

He looked at you, internally cringing at the way you looked at him, utterly confused. You'd gotten so used to him using you that it made his own saliva taste bitter, making him crinkle his brows a little. "I-" He started, yet took a deep breath, his eyes aimlessly dancing over the plush carpet, analyzing the various shades of light brown it presented to him. Right now he hated it. Hated how it made his apartment, your apartment feel like home. He hated how it did fit into the living room even though he'd complained about you buying it, arguing that you started to take over his life back then when you both didn't even date each other. He hated how he fell in love with it after he'd seen you lay on it with your phone in hand, the small white fan in the corner of the room softly blowing your hair and clothes during the summer. He hated how he remembered spilling his soda on it one day, freaking out because he knew even if he would cover it up you'd notice, you always noticed. Just like now. Because the hand you'd placed on his shoulder as a form of comfort had never felt so heavy on him, like a brick trying to force his entire back down. "M' sorry.." He simply grunted out, putting his head in his hands.

"What're you sorry for?" You had laughed a bit uneasy, and he hated the sound of it. He always pictured himself as the man who was oh-so protective of you, yet right now he'd never felt so small. "Is it about yesterday? You don't have to change Jungkookie, I don't mind-" Yet he had to shut you up, turning a bit to look at you with a face melted into a vision of being thrown side by side by your own thoughts. This was exactly the issue. You didn't mind- and he knew that you didn't even lie about that- it made everything so much worse.

The nickname, the way you said it, the way you meant it- it all just punched his guts even harder. Instead of answering he simply took your face in his hands, placing his lips onto yours with so much emotion you could feel them trembling. His kisses turned into more than simple pecks, they turned into desperate cries of confusion, of insecurity, of so many things you would've never associated Jungkook with. Slowly your bodies fell into place again, with him laying you down on your back, a pillow falling down and knocking a fork down from the small table, yet none of you cared about it in that moment. As soon as you reached for his belt he'd grabbed your hand, holding them with such care. "No no- I-" He said, switching between kissing and talking. "I want to- no, I need to make love to you, yeah?" You squeaked at his sudden movement when he'd picked you up, trying to carry you to the shared bedroom, yet aborting that mission as well by simply sitting you ontop of the kitchen counter, the marbled stone cold underneath your butt. You gasped into the open air, the way he'd just lifted you with such ease making you feel so small- in every good way possible. Yet even though this wasn't the first time making out in the kitchen, this was new- to both of you. He had no clue what to actually do, exploring new territory as well as you did in that moment, never having gone slow before. Yet he slowly eased into it, his arms leading his hands over your exposed skin, fingers softly squeezing the flesh of your thighs. His kisses started to wander, caressing your neck, yet even though his dominant side was starting to show the more comfortable he got with what he was doing, you noticed a slight difference in his demeanor. His arms weren't limiting your movement, weren't moving you around to his hearts content- even though you would never complain about that- they were around you, his hands on your back, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in his hands, then letting go just to repeat like a kneading cat. "You're so sweet, so so sweet, did I ever tell you that?" He whispered almost like a secret, and you felt like he was bewitching you in a weird way. "Wanna keep you all to myself, wanna hide you like a secret." He said lowly, almost growled, and you felt yourself slowly fall for his word with every sound he made. "But I also wanna show you everyone, wanna show everyone how lucky I am, how I got the prettiest and sweetest of them all." He said, hands wandering up his shirt you were wearing, running over your soft breasts, squeezing them softly and relishing in the way they felt under his fingertips. He always loved your skin, even though you'd complained before how you disliked the slight chub on your lower belly, or how your thighs were thicker than most girls your height. Yet he couldn't find anything wrong with it, loving the way it gave you such a soft vibe and feel. This was you, every little flaw that you were seeing he saw as another thing to love about you, as sappy as it sounded. "You're my good girl, my best girl.." He said before he started to move your already ruined panties to the side, his fingers exploring your heat. "My only girl." He said, making you mewl into his neck, hands now grabbing his shirt for a change. He made you shuffle a bit closer towards him, standing between your legs while his tattooed hand pushed two fingers inside you, reaching to make you feel good, yet never going the usual pace.

"Jungkoo-ah- Jungkookie please-!" You sighed, and he simply chuckled, kissing your neck, down to your collarbone where he playfully nipped at the skin, loving the sounds you were making. "No no no, I wanna go slow yeah? Wanna make love babydoll, we got time.." He said, and you shot him a pout, making him laugh. "Come on I'm trying to be romantic here!" He said, and you reached for his jeans again- making him move your hands away again. "Nuh-uh. Good girls are patient. You can wait right, pretty girl?" He said playfully, making you pout again. He couldn't help but comply with you. How could he not? He loved you. He really did. Fuck, he really, really did. Undoing his belt and letting his pants fall to his knees along with his underwear, he reached for your butt, making you shimmy even closer to him so he could swiftly enter you, making both of you gasp out both in anticipation and relief from your side for getting your way.

The simple view he had of your form speared on his cock was the sole reason he loved every position that made him look at you. The picture in front of him just was too presious yet sinful to be wasted. He wished he could take a picture of it actually, yet he decided against it, having heard his phone fall out of the back pocket of his jeans before, and he was kind of too terrified to see his screen cracked yet. He also couldn't really think about it, the way your walls engulfed him occupying his mind almost completely. His arms encaved you, holding you against him as close as possible, creating a safe haven for you and your mindset. You always slipped into some sort of headspace whenever his praise and affection got to a certain point- something that had terrified you at first, making you feel a bit embarrased as well- yet Jungkook had assured you that it was completely okay and normal, having googled it someday back when he'd been bored on his phone. It was actually quite endearing that your mind trusted him enough to slip into such a vulnerable state, his pride feeding off if it to no end.

He wanted to go slow, yet by the end of it his pace had quickened to his typical ruthless tempo, making you gasp out bursts of breath against his neck, hands clawing at his shoulder blades though the material of his shirt, grabbing onto him for dear life, while on your fast lane to release. When he came himself his breathing got erratic from oversensitivity, yet he ignored it to bring you over the edge as well, even making you ride it out to its fullest afterwards. When you slowly deflated against him, hands simply reaching out for his body, he softly cooed at you, completely enchanted by you in your post-orgasmic bliss. Suddenly he laughed, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "God, why am I like this?" He said, soft smile turning bitter. "Can't even be soft for one fucking time." Yet your hand softly ran through his now slightly damp locks, head turning to look at him with so much endearment he could cry- well, he actually felt his eyes start to sting, but he swallowed them down.

"You don't have to, Jungkookie." You softly said, and he wanted to argue. "Don't change. You're perfect just the way you are. I love you either way. Doesn't matter if you buy me roses or screw me in the kitchen. I take any love you give me." He suddenly laughed, and his eyes turned into sparkling half moons, his bunny smile almost blinding you.

"God I love you."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Jungkookie?"

"hm?"

"I'm hungry."

"There's leftovers in the oven."

"You're not gonna treat me some chicken nuggets?"

"Tomorrow maybe. Its too late now baby."

"Come on, be a sweet baby-boy and do it-"

"Careful sweetheart."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

IT.IS.FINALLY.OUT.Thank you all so so much for waiting so patiently, I really didn't expect all of you to even stay, let alone shower me with all of your support- I really didn't deserve that! I hope I didn't dissapoint too much with it, since I didn't check for spelling errors :( I love you all, and I hope you're all staying safe and healthy during these times! Remember that spreading love begins with self-love, and self-love begins with small steps 💜

#jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #dom!Jungkook #sub!read #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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thealexchen · 3 years ago

Note

You being so open and getting so much joy out of the lis series while still having nuanced discussions about its flaws makes me really happy. I don’t feel embarrassed or “cringe” about liking it thanks to finding your blog. You have so much confidence and that inspires me a lot. 💜

Hey, thank you so much. That really means a lot to me, and I’m really humbled and honored my blog has helped you! Honestly, a lot of it came from experience. I’ve been a LiS fan since 2016 so I wasn’t around during the original game’s release, but I’ve witnessed all the crap that LiS fans pulled through BtS and LiS2 especially.

There were some nasty ship wars when BtS was coming out, but it really came to a head when LiS2 was revealed. It was downright awful and I exhausted myself defending it and arguing with people about why they needed to give it a chance and support games with POC leads.

But almost two years after it ended, it’s not like LiS2 is a perfect game either— far from it. I wrote my critique last year to reconcile the messy, conflicted feelings I had about how it handled the very themes of racism and xenophobia that I had praised DN for having the guts to tackle a year prior. I had defended it so much before because of how intense the initial hate was, but as time went on I realized I had my own serious problems with the game too. I still think that it was unfair for people to trash on LiS2 before seeing any of it, but I also regret defending LiS2 in 2018 before I had formed a solid opinion on it. At some point I had to say “screw it, this isn’t worth my time,” and walk away from the haters. I had let my frustration and anger about the fans dampen my own excitement for LiS2, and my experience with the game had been soured as a whole. I’m not going to change everyone’s mind or even get them to see where I’m coming from, and that’s not my responsibility. I think that "confidence" you mention has been me learning how to genuinely not let people's opinions get to me as much anymore.

All that taught me a lot about how to approach TC: avoiding comparisons, listening to but not internalizing dissenting opinions, and just allowing myself to enjoy the game my way and like it as its own thing. I will always be happy we got our first queer Asian American protagonist in Alex, for example, and how many Asian Americans were involved behind the scenes. But of course, I didn’t want to oversimplify the issue and claim that TC “talked about race the correct way!" compared to LiS2.

It also meant letting myself feel disappointed with whatever I didn't like after 6 months of hype. It's totally fair to think "This was great, but it would've been even better if..." because nothing's perfect. Even now, some people hate what I loved about the game and vice versa, but that doesn’t devalue what I took away from my playing experience. I’ve found that this kind of thinking has been better for me in general and it feels a lot more freeing to just be able to express myself fully. It really means a lot for you to tell me it inspired you, so thank you for taking the time to write such a kind message! 💜💜💜

#anon #answered asks #life is strange true colors #life is strange 2 #lis #listc #fav ask #alex chen

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gaysimpsstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Fatgum As a Dad

This was inspired by a conversation I had on a discord server, we all have daddy issues and want Fatgum to adopt us so here’s all the shit we collected.

There are some serious themes in here, mostly regarding the biological parents of the kid, but it’s vague as possible. If anyone wants me to add a trigger warning please let me know.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It all started when he was a kid, when he learned what an orphanage was. One of the kids in his class mentioned being from one, so when he got home he asked his parents about it.

“Mom, what’s an orphanage?”

“Well, Taishiro, it’s where children that don’t have parents go. Then people can come and adopt the children. Why do you ask.”

“A kid at school said he’s from one, when d’you think he’s gonna get adopted?”

“He might, not all children get adopted. Some of them stay in the orphanage until they’re adults.”

“BUT THAT’S NOT FAIR!” he shouted. “EVERYONE DESERVES A HAPPY CHILDHOOD!”

“Well, honey, life’s not fair. And not everyone gets a happy life. It’s how most villains are made, actually. They were hurt more than everyone else and couldn’t handle it anymore. Not all villains are like that but many are. I think you should stay away from that kid, Taishiro. He might turn out a villain.”

But he didn’t stay away. And he made it his mission to become a pro hero so he could make a ton of money and help as many people as he could. He’d help even villains, keep them from doing something dangerous and inspire hope in them.

Then, he’d adopt any kid who needed a father. All the orphanages and foster programs would be empty. Homeless children off the street and in his house, being fed and clothed. He’d care for each and every one of them, not wanting a single person to feel like they didn’t belong.

He finds most of his kids at pride parades. He walks around with a shirt that says ‘FREE DAD HUGS’ and a box full of candy. He remembered one of the kids walking up to him slowly.

“Um.. are you Fatgum?”

“Yes I am!”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Yes you can, Kiddo!” he got down, and the kid put his arms on his stomach (Fatgum’s too big for anyone to fully hug, the dude’s taller than Allmight!) he wrapped his arms around the kid before he heard sniffles. He looked down and saw that the kid was crying.

“M-my parents never hug me like this!” they exclaimed. “They haven’t since I came out. They want to kick me out when I turn thirteen!”

“Can I have their number? I’m going to... talk to them.”

He ended up taking the kid’s family to court, and since the parents were going to just kick the kid out anyways, they let Fatgum adopt them, but they kept nagging him about how he was ‘going to be raising a little demon.’

“Then call me Lucifer.” he spat right back. Now, that kid’s grown up, has pride flags all around their walls, and doesn’t ever doubt that they’re loved.

Fatgum probably bakes with his kids. Helping them up onto the counter to mix ingredients and play with the dough. If they mess something up or break a glass, it’s fine. He doesn’t yell at them or sigh and shake his head, he just kissed the kid on the forehead and helps them clean up the mess.

The food always turns out amazing, and Fatgum always tells the kids that. All of his kids are now Gordon Ramsay level chefs and have probably met Gordon Ramsay.

No matter what their body type is, Fatgum tells his kids their handsome/beautiful and are model worthy. If anyone comments of one of his kid’s body, whether it be negative or... ‘positive’ in a creepy way, you can expect that they’re getting slammed into the ground. No questions asked.

One of Fatgum’s kids is really good at make-up. Like, really good. So Fatgum did the only thing a rational father would do.

Ask for a make-up job.

It didn’t end all that well...

“Hold still.. I gotta get the eyeliner on.”

“Gosh, Kiddo it’s making my eyes water.”

“I know, just hold still... aaaand...... done! Now don’t touch it or it’ll smear!”

“Wow, that looks great! You’re really good at this!”

“Thanks, dad- you smeared it already didn’t you?”

“....Nope.”

Fatgum: I'm not gonna do it, it just seemed like a good option.

Fatgum not even two seconds later after seeing a trans kid crying: now carrying said child on his shoulders while his spouse is chuckling in a corner after signing adoption papers I did it.

This man would get his kids almost anything they wanted. Especially kids with ADD/ADHD/Autism/Tourettes/Anxiety who need stim toys.

Kid: chewing on their nails.

Fatgum: here take this stim toy, and this one, you chew this one so that might help-

Kid ends up with more stim toys than they can count.

Fatgum: just doing his job

The Daddy Issues Gang: Hi dad- oh shit wait- Hi- I- fuck- trauma ensues. crying

Fatgum: grabs the daddy issues gang we're going to the nearest courtroom say hello to your new father its me im the father ok lets go.

Kid: um, dad can I talk to you?

Fatgum, turning around quickly: yes?

Me: ‘he moved so quick, he's mad at me, I'm gonna get yelled at’ Sorry, sorry!

Fatgum: uh, no. I'm getting you ice cream and a new stuffed animal no questions asked

He'd just know when something's wrong, and he’d be great at comforting.

His usual style of comfort is to let the kid sit on his stomach and tell him what’s wrong. His body is one giant pillow for his kids to lay on, he can fit at least eight of them if they cuddle in closely.

Once filmed a commercial dressed as the Cool-Aid man, and all of his kids were in the commercial.

Fatgum: Busts down wall “OH YEAH!”

Director: “And CUT! Okay, try a little more aggressive-”

Fatgum, in tears: “I don’t wanna scare my kids.”

As stated before, if anyone makes his kids feel bad he’s punching them to the ground, but sometimes he’s not in a position where he can do that. Like if a Karen mom ever comes over.

"Linda stop bringing lemon squares if you're going to talk about my son that way because they're just as sour as your attitude."

Fatgum but he slaps the toxic members of your family and tells them to do better or he's taking you.

Then takes you anyway because you prefer him.

Fatgum with a sweater that says ‘mr dad guy on it’

Fatgum definitely watches ATLA, and quotes Uncle Iroh daily. When his kids are minding their own business they suddenly hear

“Leaves from the vine... falling so slow...”

INAUDIBLE CHAOS AND PANIC

Fatgum agency cosplayed ATLA characters on Halloween.

Fatgum was Iroh.

Kirishima was Sokka.

Tamaki was either Momo or Appa.

Maybe get a couple others in on it too, Mirio could be Aang and if Kirishima convinces Todoroki to join for a while he’d totally be Zuko.

Fatgum lets his kids squish his face.

Fatgum used to work with a hero who was hard of hearing, so he learned sign language to help them, and he’s got the skill saved in case one of his kids might be deaf.

So one day, Kirishima invites Bakugou on patrol with him, and we all love that headcanon of Bakugou going deaf, so when he gets pissed at something, he starts insulting everyone around him in SL.

Fatgum notices and starts signing back to him.

YOU’RE ALL MOTHERFUCKERS AND I HATE YOU ALL!

Hey, now, let’s calm down and not call everyone motherfuckers.

FUCK YOU TOO

Bakugou...

Everyone thinks that they’re doing magic, because they’re making all these shapes with their hands and keep looking offended at each other.

Now, Fatgum tries his gosh darn hardest to keep up with the memes, so when his kids come home with good grades, he says “That’s so pog, Kiddo!”

All of his kids are embarrassed.

In the middle of a battle, he throws Kirishima at a villain and they both scream “YEET!” the villain afterwords forever lives in fear of the word ‘yeet’ because he thinks it’ll result in a human rock being thrown at his face.

Fatgum can’t text very well, because his fingers are just too damn big-

sonhsisntextsblooklikehthis'

Translation: so his texts look like this

you learn to understand his texts

Someone better get him a large tablet instead of a phone

If he gets married after he adopts the kids, there’s going to be a huge competition over who does the rings and who does the flowers etc.

If any of his kid’s ever bring home a romantic partner, you can bet your ass he’ll be all over them.

“What’s your average grade?”

“E-eighty percent sir!”

“And do you take sports?”

“No sir, I wish to be a biologist.”

“I see, I see...”

“DAD, YOU AREN”T INTERVIEWING MY PARTNER, ARE YOU? YOU SCARED OFF THE LAST THREE I DON’T WANNA DEAL WITH THAT AGAIN!”

“SORRY, KIDDO! I’LL LET THEM GO NOW! I’ve got my fucking eyes on you. Don’t screw this up.”

Hope y’all enjoy this, if y’all want I can write some headcanons for if Fatgum’s kid becomes a villain-

#fatgum #taishiro toyomitsu #fatgum bnha #fatgum mha #mha fatgum #bnha fatgum #dadgum #fatgum as a dad #fatgum is a dad #daddy issues gang

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multiplefandomsblog · 4 years ago

Note

your roommate hcs are so cute, can i request for naib, demi, tracy, andrew, kurt, patricia, and victor?

:0 holy crap yes! I’m so glad you enjoyed the roommate hcs!! Me and the other mods hope you enjoy these! Thank you for requesting :))

(i added melly because why not? lmao hope you don’t mind.)

Part 1!

Naib Subedar

This man deadass didn’t know you were living with him

Even when people told him about it, he wasn’t rlly paying attention and didn’t rlly care

Your stuff in his room? He thought it was his or someone just broke into his room and left it there

When he saw you on the toilet however, he just freaked out.

“Why the hell are you shitting in my room!?” “Your room? I’ve been living here for 2 months!”

Once he found out you lived with him, he made sure you knew what was his and what was yours

also, since he’s very protective of his things-- you being one of them-- he would totally get jealous if he caught you tallking to someone that wasn’t him.

he would probably give you the silent treatment and act like a pissy baby

He hates it when you touch his stuff

especially his photos, the photos were special to him because they were of him and his army friends.

You’d sometimes catch him looking at the photos with a longing in his eyes, it was highkey sad.

having you live with him meant lots and lots of training

he made sure you were always prepared for matches and that you don’t get downed early

when you got downed early however, He would scold you but he would still rescue you anyways because he’s soft

“You’re such an idiot, you’d better do better next time! Or else I’ll kick your ass.”

one time he got cocky while kiting because you were watching him

he forgot to turn on his elbow pads and face palmed into the wall.

“...You saw nothing.” He turned around, a bit woozy from hitting his head on a wall. He flipped the hunter off before stumbling wooshing away

When you first get to know naib, he’d probably come off as intimidating and menacing

but once you get to know him--the real him--, you start to understand that even though he may be tough on you, its because he wants you to be the best

he has good intentions

During matches he’d let you handle yourself and made sure you didn’t rely on him too much

One time you needed to shower but you ran out of your shampoo so you used his.

When he questioned you, you simply responded “What? You don’t need it anyways, you’re bald!”

He didn’t rescue you the next round.

should’ve seen that coming

though he forgives you when you braid his luscious long existent hair for him

Kurt Frank

The amount of times you almost stepped on this man is astronomical.

he would constantly be in his tiny form because he would lose a lot of his things

his tiny form helped him find his things easily

Though when you first moved in with him, you had no idea what his ability was

so when you first saw a tiny version of your roommate you thought he was just a weird doll

until you heard him say a tiny, “Hey can you move your ginORMOUS foot? You’re stepping on my book.”

You fucking screeched and took off your shoe to try and kill him

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

After he explained to you about his ability you calmed down a bit and spared this tiny man but only this time!

Frank loves books, he probably filled your shared rooms with stacks on stacks of books

You’d often see him tiny, waving at you while you’re decoding

Once you overhead Kurt arguing with First Officer over who was the rightful owner of some sort of treasure map

They fought for days,

kurt would constantly complain about it to you

turns out it was just a game on the back of a Cereal box.

sorry this is short like kurt

Tracy Reznik

Would be a little awkward at first, but the awkwardness slowly fades away when you both make bad jokes

she gives me childhood best friend vibes

Has her doll sitting in the corner of your shared room room, it’s lifeless eyes scare the living shit out of you in the dark you try not to make eye contact, afraid it’ll curse you or smth

if she was mad at you she would move the bot in a way that looked like it was flipping you off you off in your direction before you went to bed.

Always making little robot things that are super fun to play with

Loves sharing her things. Has no problem with it

you wanna wear her clothes? sure

you want to wear her underwear? evEN BETTER-

Pulling all nighters, trying to get her machines to work like how she wanted it to work.

Would live off of kraft Mac n cheese and junk food in the modern day

Pretty hyper, chugs pink monster energy drinks while pulling all nighters, also, in the modern day

would probably be a bruh girl

Her room is a mess, covered with blueprints and scrap metal

her room is practically a safety hazard

Sometimes she dresses her doll up a bit, putting wigs or her old clothes on it (which scares you half to death)

Once she made her doll dress up like her

and you almost went up to it to ask what it wanted for dinner.

Has a photo of her and her dad

You never wanted to bring it up, worried it might make her upset :(

Sometimes she’d feel really guilty about being downed in the first 30 seconds

please comfort her, she feels super bad

She always relies on you to rescue her

She gets really happy and thankful when you body block for her but she still gets a bit concerned when you do it randomly

“i wasn’t even kiting-” “Protecc the mecc.”

Demi Bourbon

Always out at the bar

Smells like alcohol constantly

tipsy 24/7

she’s never 100% sober

You have to hold her hair out of her face when she comes back to your shared room to hurl

Likes bringing back hard vodka or weird flavoured alcohols back for you guys to get wasted try together

Room is bit cluttered, but she doesn’t have much in her room since she’s always out in bars or matches

Usually latches onto you like a parasite when she’s drunk.

it gets a bit awkward when her face is a bit close to yours,

“Are we about to kiss right now-? BLeurghgrhgherrgh.”“...*audible sigh*”

You’d go to her expecting her to heal you like a normal person but no

instead she shoves dovlin down your throat

She likes to do your makeup, and always adds a matching beauty mark

unless you don’t wear makeup, then she’d ask you to do hers

always loves how she looks afterwards

more than sometimes demi would get into bar fights,

so you know she’s about to throw hands when she starts takes off her earrings-

10/10 would fight for you <3

She’s gives me cool wine aunt vibes

Probably a lesbian too (check out our Demi smut fic ;))

Or bi, idk

Just straightn’t

She’s really good at hyping you up, especially when you’re taking shots

“CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG-”

Andrew Kreiss

Would be very shy at first, opens up a little when you get to know him

Totally a night owl, can’t sleep at night from all the guilt and “what if’”s

if you see this baby awake at night, hug him, he really needs it

You’ve never seen the other side of his face

How does he see with hair in his eyes?

He’s albino, which is super dope

Sometime you fear he’s thinking about burying you

You always see him thwacking Luca with his shovel

Barely talks

Room is moderate

He doesn’t want you to find out too much about him

He may seem bland, but he loves sweet food

You’d bake him cookies and other sweets

He’d act as if he’s not embarrassed and brush it off

“Are you blushing?”“No, I-I’m sunburnt.” “On your face?” “....I stare into the hot red sun sometimes because it eases me.”

to keep his lie going, every time he catches you staring at him he would fry his eye balls by staring into the sun until you left

partially the reason why he can’t see well

When he’s not looking, you stare at him while he’s eating the stuff you made because he looks so happy :’)

One time you found him down in the dumps so you made him a cup of coffee, and when you handed it to him you said-

“Depresso espresso?”

*sniff* ”..are you oka-” “IM NOT CRYING, YOU ARE”

he actually cried

it was such a nice gesture(?), that he started ugly crying

You’d ask him if he wanted hugs during matches when you see him get stressed

He’d be flushed and kinda confused

hug... him? why tho lmao

he’d definitely agree tho, to be fair, with some hesitation

if y’all ever cuddled in bed, i feel like he’d be a little spoon

poor boy needs the comfort, he wouldn’t mind if you wanted to be little spoon tho

he just wants to be close to you

Victor Grantz

You love playing with his dog, Wick

Super nice and polite, but a little guarded

The type to be too afraid to call people out when they do something wrong but would totally trash them in his head

You write him little letters everyday and leave them on his bed to make him happy :))

He’d a be a little spoon

Wick would always join you guys while cuddling

Kisses would be soft and gentle

Usually sends you the first letter in matches

Loves to cuddle

He bb 🥰

You always get him a birthday present AND a Christmas present

You also get a gift for Wick

He loves giving you surprise hugs

Likes to read with you while cuddling

Literally a cinnamon roll

Once he was eating a cinnamon roll

And you whispered

“C a n n i b a l i s m .”

He was very confused

and kind of scared- were you going to eat him?

Patricia Dorval

Room always smells like herbs

She could literally smoke weed and you’d think it’s some magical healing herb

it magically makes you feel better

Always there to stun the hunter when you’re ballooned

The mature one

Her room is organized, with boxes labeling what herbs and magic stuff that are in them

You were cooking dinner for the day and you accidentally used one of her fancy herbs in your soup

She didn’t realize until she tried the soup

She wasn’t mad just disappointed

She lectured you on how you shouldn’t touch her stuff or use it for cooking

Gotta admit tho, the soup was pretty good

she acts like the mom everyone wishes they had

totally the type to be like, “dude we should think this through.” before doing something risky

and then five seconds later, “cowABUNGA MY DUDES”

one time she caught kreacher leaving the mens washroom without washing his hands

seeing as she was the mother of this manor, she had to protect her children from diseases

so she yeeted her monkey skull at kreachers head, cleanly knocking him out

and everybody cheered.

Melly Plinius

When you heard melly was going to be your roomie, you couldn’t have been more excited.

you finally had a victim for the many insect pick up lines!

So you decided to make some good first impressions by waiting for her in your room.

so when she arrived to your room and greeted you, you happily greeted her back, and slipped in the pick up line.

“Hello, my name is Melly. I believe I will be your ro-?”“Yeah nice to meet you too, say, what do bees make?”

She kinda thought you were a bit rude so much for first impressions

“...Erm, honey?” she replied hesitantly

“YES DEAR?”

... okay maybe you weren’t thaaaat bad.

after that she kind of developed a teensy crush on you

so it was hard living with you because of her crush, since she was constantly flustered

you loved her reactions, she constantly got red.

it was funny watching her try to keep her cool and fail.

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winter-fox-queen · 3 years ago

Text

We All Deserve a Fairy Tale Chapter 5

Warnings: Here be smut, my loves. Minors be gone, because it is explicit. First time writing smut, so I hope it works.

Frankie x female blank slate, use of first person. I think there is cursing.

Frankie ghosts you, then something happens to change it…

Thanks to @sharkbait77 and @hnt-escape If you want on my tag list, tell me. :)

I waited a week. A week and a half. And I broke down, finally, and texted.

Got the edits back for my next book. I hate this part.

After a moment, a reply. You got this.

Hope? Maybe? Or was he just being nice?

I responded anyway.

Maybe we can go out and see that movie tonight? Have dinner? A little fun before I chain myself to the computer?

No response.

I waited a day, but my stomach churned the whole time.

I texted again, after getting myself good and wound up. You don’t owe me any explanations. But please respect me enough not to ghost me. You’re not interested in me, that’s fine. But don’t leave me dangling. You’re better than that.

I hit send, regretted it immediately.

Your right. What’s your address?

“Shit. Shit. What have I done?” I whispered as I typed it to him.

About five away. K?

Yeah. Thanks.

I ran back inside the house and straightened myself up. Military minutes must be shorter than civilian minutes because I heard him pull up sooner than I was ready.

I went outside, to the back yard. I waved at him, half heartedly. He shoved his hands in his pockets and came over.

“Hey.” He gave me a soft smile. Everything about him was guarded. OK. Well, I asked him to come over and officially tell me to take a hike, so, I guess I deserved it.

“Frankie, I…”

“No. I, uh.” He looked at the ground between our feet. It was more dirt than grass. “Man, you weren’t kidding about this place being a wasteland.”

I laughed despite the rock in my gut.

He looked up at me, a little sideways. “Let me say my piece and go, OK?”

I hugged myself, and nodded.

“I like you.” He said so quietly that I had to lean closer to hear him. “Like you more than I’ve liked anyone for a long time. And I mean that. But wanting you in my life doesn’t mean I get to. I’ve killed — “

I started to object, say something about the army and of course he did and he did what he had to…

He saw it and said, firmly, “No.”

I closed my mouth and he nodded. “No. I’m talking about…less than a year ago. Some friends and I went on a mission. We said it was to help stop a major drug dealer but it was just…” He’s breathing a little heavier, now. Unable to look at me, rubbing the palms of his hands on his thighs.

“People died.” He looks at me, then, the anguish in his eyes, the guilt. “My own fucking actions lead to one of my best friends getting killed. If I hadn’t taken that shot. If I hadn’t wrecked the fucking chopper…”

He steps forward and takes my hands in his. They’re clammy, shaking. “The mail you saw, it was a reminder. My friend’s widow, she’s angry and looking for answers and she doesn’t want any of us to be happy. And she’s right.”

I try to find words. I feel like I’m in a cave in, trying to scramble over rocks and debris.

“I don’t deserve to be happy, and I don’t deserve you.” He touches my cheek for a second, a butterfly landing and running away. “I’m gonna go now, I’m gonna block your number.”

He kisses me. His lips are hot. When he steps back, I say, “So you’re not going to give me a choice?”

“Why would you want one?” His voice is incredulous. There’s an echo, under his words, I can see it in his eyes, in the frustrated way he throws his hands out. Why would you want me?

I shook my head. “You say you like me, but you want to close yourself off? Not give me a chance to get to know you, help you if I can?”

“It’s for the best. You see that, right?” There’s a desperate edge.

I shake my head. Everything that can possibly hurt does. I’m supposed to be so good at words, and I can’t find the right ones, the ones to reel him back in.

He adjusts his hat. “No, you don’t. I love your books, but they are fairy tales. You can’t make a good man out of a monster. It’s not how the world works.”

“You’re not a monster.”

He’s all twitchiness now, looking at his truck, desperate to get out of this situation. It makes me mad, how badly he wants to go. How I know I can’t fix this. “Don’t bother blocking my number.” I say, as I turn on my heel. “I won’t bother you again.”

He whispers my name and it is so pained that I almost turn around. But I don’t.

***

I don’t block his number. I can’t. I focus on work. My job that lets me eat work. My book. My hands shake on the keyboard, sometimes, as I try to make the story mine again. It’s hard to write a love story, even one with murder and mystery, when your own heart is broken.

It was ridiculous. I didn’t even know him that long, but the loss of him hurt. It made the story feel pointless. What right did I have to sell these lies? To make people believe in love and romance and happily ever after when you can meet someone so amazing and wonderful, and have to watch him walk away?

I kept working. I’d get over it. I had to. It’s not like I’d built anything with him. I was just aching for the possibilities — the things I tortured myself about. The things I imagined I m might have lost, with Frankie.

And damn it, I missed him.

But life continues. And sink faucets wear out, making you have to run to the local home improvement store, wandering the isles with an armload of new faucet, fittings, plumbers tape and everything else the YouTube videos I’d consulted said I would need.

The universe has decided that I have not suffered enough, because I can see him, Frankie Morales in the flesh, frowning at the back of a box like its his greatest enemy. He was in the home security section.

I could sneak by. He was way too interested in what he was holding in those lovely, large hands of his. I dashed by, head down, determined to just get past him, but some lady with a cart pushed past me at the same time, and my arm load of stuff got jostled. I was able to save the most expensive bit — the faucet in its box, the long flexible connection thingies — but the plumbers tape, in its plastic hard shell donut jumped out, fell onto the floor, and rolled right over to a well worn work boot. Spun like a top. Settled right against his toe. I looked up, too nervous to enjoy the view (much) and right into his eyes. His lips were parted, like he was a little surprised to see me.

“Hey.” I said, and then, because I didn’t know what else to do, I turned and fled back the way I came. I knew where the plumbers tape was, I could just go get another…

“Hey. Wait a second.”

I stopped, took a breath, smiled like everything was perfectly normal.

He held up the white plastic Judas. “Um…your faucet break?” And then he winced. “I mean, obviously. Um.” He placed the tape on top of my pile delicately. He was holding a box in both hands tight enough to warp the cardboard.

“It’s old. I thought I would try my hand at replacing it…can’t be that hard.”

“No, but plumbing can be really picky if you’ve never done it…”

“Don’t offer.” I whisper it desperately, before I can even think about it. I can tell he’s working himself up to it, and the thought of him in my house is like a punch ion the guts.

“It wouldn’t be a problem.” His dark eyes study my face. Sad. A little desperate. For a second I think, maybe he misses me, too.

“No. I got it.” I say softly, looking at the floor again.

“Do you still have my number? If you change your mind?”

I nod at the container. “Go back to your project, Frankie. I can handle this on my own.”

Did you know, plumbing is an utter bitch?

Throw in some more curse words in the last sentence. I certainly used every one I could.

Two hours later, I get a text.

Frankie: How did it go?

I want to sob. Instead, I put myself together and write a fairly moderate response:

Me: I have decided that I will now do my dishes in the bathroom sink. Who needs a sink in the kitchen? A total waste.

Frankie: The offer is still open?

Me: How did you know? Did you just look at me and think, she is too inept to be able to do this herself?

Frankie: No. I don’t think that at all.

Frankie: Let me help? Please?

Me: Since you said please, I guess I can allow you to come rescue me.

Frankie: OMW.

I looked at the time, and decided to order pizza. It was only fair.

Twenty minutes later he’s under the sink. “You did a good job. I think maybe you just cross threaded it…”

“Oh, no…did I ruin the threads?”

“It’s probably OK. I’ll just use a lot of tape…”

And he does some magical things with a wrench and the bright pink tape, which he wraps around the threads to make them more water tight. I try not to admire his long legs or the rest of him, spread out on my kitchen floor, as he half lays in the bottom of the sink.

The doorbell rings, and I go pay for the pizza, and when I come back he’s turned on the water, and he’s kneeing in front of the open sink bottom, using a paper towel to see if he can find any leaks.

“It looks OK?” I ask tentatively.

“Yep…you really did have it done mostly. Just that one spot.”

“Thanks,” I say awkwardly. “I bought us dinner?”

“You are awesome.” He does a quick but of clean up so he can shut the sink doors and washes his hands in the newly repaired sink. He tosses his hat onto the end of the island, and I want to run my fingers through his hair. He does it for me, absentmindedly pushing the hair off his forehead.

We sit on either side of my kitchen island, sharing pizza. I don’t know what to say.

“It’s a nice apartment.” He said quietly, picking up another slice.

“It’s cheap, not far from my day job. It works.” I shove a hunk of crust in my mouth to stop myself from saying anything else. I knew this would be bad. Here he is, sitting a few inches away. I could touch him, but I’m not allowed. It’s a rotten feeling, wanting something and not being allowed to have it. To feel his fingers wrap around mine. To have that easy, happy camaraderie again.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, when the silence gets too much.

He shakes his head. Wads up his napkin. Puts his plate in the sink. Locates the trash. Such a good guest.

“I shouldn’t have come. But I wanted to see you.” He said this quietly, as if he isn’t sure he should admit it.

“Well, if you hadn’t, I’d still be under the sink wondering why the damned fittings are still leaking.”

He gives me a gentle smile. “You would have been ok.”

“Lucky I didn’t block your number, huh?”

He smiles and kneels down, picking up tools and putting them back in the box. Sorting his from mine.

“It was nice of you to come help me? I might be a bit snarky, but I really am grateful for the help.”

“I was happy to. Where do you keep these?” I took my tools off him, put them and the plumber’s tape in my tool drawer.

“But why? Why were you happy to help? Why did you want to see me? You couldn’t leave here quickly enough the other day…” I smile to take the sting out. “Not that I blame you, the yard is a hot mess.”

He touches my face gently. “Hush.” I stop my babbling, lean into his touch.

“You asked me a question, awhile back.” I muzzle his hand. “I never got to answer it.”

“What was that?”

“You asked me if I wanted you. And I do. Very much.”

He made a huffing sound, as if he had been gut punched, and then, slowly, slowly, leaned in and kissed me. “I miss you,”. He whispers between kisses, his hands framing my face like I’m a delicate thing. “I miss you when I wake up. I miss you when I lay down to sleep. I miss you when I’m driving.” And each sentence he punctuates, gently, with a kiss, to my forehead, to my nose, to my mouth. “I barely know you, but you are already woven into my thoughts…”

I’m holding him tight, kissing him back. I bump my nose against his, sweetly, and I saw, “Then why? Why stay away?”

He pulls back as far as I’ll let him, sits down again. I see the ghosts in his eyes again, and I remember the lyrics from a song I used to love, “There’s ghosts in your eyes, they cry when you smile…”

“I shouldn’t have come…I’m a train wreck waiting to happen.”

“No, not if you’re just going to push me away again. That’s cruel. I never thought you’d be cruel, Francisco Morales.”

He winces like I punched him.

“If it’s too soon to tell me, that’s fine. Just push it aside until you trust me. Or until it matters. I don’t care about your past, what you’ve done. I know you well enough to know you did what you had to do at the time.” I give in to the longing to touch him, I run my fingers lightly through the curls at his temple before letting my hand drop. He’s watching me like a landmine he’s stepped on. His fingers ghost over my hips. Grip them gently. Pulls me between his thighs. Now it’s my turn to be wary, as he pulls me close. His dark, liquid eyes study my face, I can almost hear him weighing and sorting. Lay your secrets on me, beautiful man. I want to tell him. But I wait. I wait until his large hands encompass me, run over my waist, the softness over my ribs, glide up the sides of my breasts so softly I am not even sure he touched me, to cup my face.

“I want to be who you think I am,” he says, and I smile gently.

A decision is made, in those fathomless eyes. And he leans close, and he kisses me again. The last kisses were loving. This kiss is passionate. Deep. So full of longing I could cry. I let my lips part and his tongue traces, licks inside. I make a little sound and grab his wrists, pushing them aside so I can wrap my arms around him, if I could meld myself to him, I would have then, melted inside of him like gold, fixing his cracks.

He stands, the stool scraping against the floor. The sound is jarring, lifts me out of the lust sodden moment. “If you want me, baby, you have me,” he says in that rough honey voice of him. “Show me the way.”

I take one of his hands in both of mine, I kiss each knuckle. I’d been playing with the idea, and now here I was. I could still say no. I could slow things down, I could be sensible.

But I’d never wanted anything so deeply, so profoundly, as I wanted him. Every time I touched his skin, I felt like something lost had been returned to me.

I smiled a little at him, and backed away, pulling him with me. “This way, sweetheart.”

His lips are on mine the second we cross into my bedroom. Once Frankie Morales makes a decision, he is all in. His hand cups the back of my head, holding me so he can kiss me, his tounge sliding against mine as his other hand slips under my shirt. I pull back and tug at his shirt. “Off.” I command, and he grins and sheds it. My shirt and my bra join it on the floor. I press my breasts to the warm smoothness of his chest. I run my hands over his ribs, his stomach, as his mouth claims mine again. His skin is soft and warm, strong muscles flexing under my hands. I kiss along his jawline, I lick and kiss the constellation of freckles on the side of his neck. He moans softly in approval as I nip and kiss my way to his shoulder.

His own hands slip up to my breasts, weighing them in his hands, squeezing gently. He runs his thumb over one nipple, then bends to lick the other into his mouth, sucking gently, his tounge flicking at the hard peak. His freehand is splayed against the small of my back, holding me in place. Pleasure shoots through me, and all I can do is cling to him. He lets me go and pushes me gently. I fall back onto my bed, tearing at the button on my pants, needing to get everything off, needing to feel his skin, his warmth, his strength and softness.

“Condoms?” He asks, one knee on the bed. “I didn’t think…”

I shook my head. “I’m on the pill?”

His eyes darken further, and he asks, “Are you sure?”

I nod and hold out my arms, and he gives me the sweetest smile. He stands up again and undoes his pants, sliding them off, and he’s naked and beautiful and I just want him wrapped around me. He slips into my arms and kisses me again, his arms holding him over me. He gives me a little of his weight, grounding me. It feels so good, skin sliding against skin, warmth against warmth,

His slips a hand between us, and I clench at the thought of him touching me just as he slides two thick fingers between my folds, rubbing my clit gently, exploring me. “So wet.” He whispers, kissing my temple. “So soft.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “So hot.” And his takes my lips again, his fingers rubbing my clit, making me shake with building pleasure. “I want to taste you, sweetheart. I want to make you come on my tounge…can I, baby?”

I nod. I don’t know who can resist that voice, rough with lust and promise? He kisses his way down and I spread my legs wider, and he gently licks — a test lick, from my entrance to my clit. He licks my clit, hard, with short licks before drawing me into his mouth and sucking me. He is fervent, as he works, and I can’t think about anything but the heat of his mouth. As the pressure and pleasure builds, I’m making the most needy sounds, unable to control myself. His slips one finger in, then a second, exploring, touching, then another, stretching and reaching for that spot. The rippling explosion leaves me shamelessly arching into his mouth, crying out his name like a prayer.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, kissing the inside of my thigh, rubbing his beard against the soft skin.

He comes up to kneel between by thighs. His eyes meet mine as I struggle to compose myself, and his hand gently comes up to very gently lay across my throat, his thumb tracing my chin.

“Are you sure? Where do you want me to come?”

I nod frantically. “Please, baby, I want you. Inside me, please…”

His hand slips away from my throat to rest on the bed above my shoulder, and I miss the warmth of it as he gently strokes my skin, settling his hand on my thigh. He takes his cock into his hand, stroking it before rubbing it against my clit, causing me to whimper. He runs the head of it up and down a few times, his eyes slipped closed, his jaw going slack, that lush lower lip parting. I wish I had a picture…he was beautiful. Skin made gold by the fading light, thighs splayed under mine. I felt the head of his cock in my entrance, and he pressed in, a slow hot stretch until he was sheathed completely.

“Oh, fuck.” He whispered. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

He lowered himself back on top of me. “You feel so huge inside me, baby,” I whisper in his ear. “You feel like heaven. Please…fuck me, honey. Please…” And he started moving, slow at first, the changing the angle and speeding up. With every thrust he pressed against something that felt so good…I was seeing the proverbial stars as he gasped in my ear, making soft sounds of pleasure every time he slammed home. I nipped at his shoulder, and he was looking down at me, dark eyes studying me.

“Frankie, I…I can’t think, I don’t know what to do…”

“Don’t think. Just let me take care of you. It’s all I want to do…” He captures my mouth in a sloppy kiss. “Just let go.”

And I do. I cry out his name as he continues to move, the friction making my high last. He speeds up, and I cup his face in shaking hands.

“You’re so beautiful. I want to feel you come, Frankie, honey, come for me.”

He moved to kiss the palm of my hand, then his eyes squeeze shut as he finds his own release. I can feel it, spilling hot inside of me. I welcome him as he lowers himself down completely, unable to stay up on his forearms any longer. He tried to shift off, but I cling to him. I welcome his weight. His strength.

I don’t want to let go. I never want to let him go.

#frankie morales x reader #Frankie Morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x f!reader #SMUT #My Fic

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