#and they're the tiniest of companies

[petrichorpetals]

Part of me wants to continue the tradition of preordering the new svt album but since it's functionally a repackage and I never buy those idk. I know I'm just going to pull scoops again either way. 😭 I'm like 7 albums deep and have yet to pull scoops in some capacity. I got the same scoops twice in heng:garæ so that was fun. I'll probably just end up buying one of the older restocks.

[neuromantis]

i'm not crazy i'm just a little unwell :-) :-) :-)

[demigoddessqueens]

Hi! I'd like to ask for Castlevania headcanons. How would Sypha, Alucard and Isaac behave if their SO fell asleep on them? Sometimes the SO is dainty and cute, sometimes they're slobbering in their sleep. Thank you!

Awww that’s true love there 😆 🩵💞💙💕💛❤️

Masterlist 11

Sypha

Trevor had been left to his devices on researching ways to defeat Dracula, and Alucard couldn’t be bothered with his brooding. That leaves you with the bookish Speaker but you prefer her company over most. As sleep claims you, Sypha notices when her eyes are heavy and the light snores come from you. She softly smiles at you, at herself, as you curl farther into her form

Alucard

He was never one who had a lot of company, but letting him read to you was a refreshing request from his conflicting past. It was even more amusing to see you asleep on his shoulder with the tiniest bit of drool. You trust him enough to be so physically vulnerable like this? He’ll tease you about the drool later but starts to hold you close as you snooze

Isaac

You had been reading some of his forge notes along with him but the day was catching up with you. The lounge chair that sat you both was just so relaxing and you couldn’t help but just “rest your eyes” for a moment. Isaac knows how you get whenever you’re tired so he’s used to your snores, the tiniest bit of drool, and has a blanket ready for you to be more comfortable

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Apple fucked us on right to repair (again)

Today (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tonight, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

Right to repair has no cannier, more dedicated adversary than Apple, a company whose most innovative work is dreaming up new ways to sneakily sabotage electronics repair while claiming to be a caring environmental steward, a lie that covers up the mountains of e-waste that Apple dooms our descendants to wade through.

Why does Apple hate repair so much? It's not that they want to poison our water and bodies with microplastics; it's not that they want to hasten the day our coastal cities drown; it's not that they relish the human misery that accompanies every gram of conflict mineral. They aren't sadists. They're merely sociopathically greedy.

Tim Cook laid it out for his investors: when people can repair their devices, they don't buy new ones. When people don't buy new devices, Apple doesn't sell them new devices. It's that's simple:

https://www.inverse.com/article/52189-tim-cook-says-apple-faces-2-key-problems-in-surprising-shareholder-letter

So Apple does everything it can to monopolize repair. Not just because this lets the company gouge you on routine service, but because it lets them decide when your phone is beyond repair, so they can offer you a trade-in, ensuring both that you buy a new device and that the device you buy is another Apple.

There are so many tactics Apple gets to use to sabotage repair. For example, Apple engraves microscopic Apple logos on the subassemblies in its devices. This allows the company to enlist US Customs to seize and destroy refurbished parts that are harvested from dead phones by workers in the Pacific Rim:

https://repair.eu/news/apple-uses-trademark-law-to-strengthen-its-monopoly-on-repair/

Of course, the easiest way to prevent harvested components from entering the parts stream is to destroy as many old devices as possible. That's why Apple's so-called "recycling" program shreds any devices you turn over to them. When you trade in your old iPhone at an Apple Store, it is converted into immortal e-waste (no other major recycling program does this). The logic is straightforward: no parts, no repairs:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/yp73jw/apple-recycling-iphones-macbooks

Shredding parts and cooking up bogus trademark claims is just for starters, though. For Apple, the true anti-repair innovation comes from the most pernicious US tech law: Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA).

DMCA 1201 is an "anti-circumvention" law. It bans the distribution of any tool that bypasses "an effective means of access control." That's all very abstract, but here's what it means: if a manufacturer sticks some Digital Rights Management (DRM) in its device, then anything you want to do that involves removing that DRM is now illegal – even if the thing itself is perfectly legal.

When Congress passed this stupid law in 1998, it had a very limited blast radius. Computers were still pretty expensive and DRM use was limited to a few narrow categories. In 1998, DMCA 1201 was mostly used to prevent you from de-regionalizing your DVD player to watch discs that had been released overseas but not in your own country.

But as we warned back then, computers were only going to get smaller and cheaper, and eventually, it would only cost manufacturers pennies to wrap their products – or even subassemblies in their products – in DRM. Congress was putting a gun on the mantelpiece in Act I, and it was bound to go off in Act III.

Welcome to Act III.

Today, it costs about a quarter to add a system-on-a-chip to even the tiniest parts. These SOCs can run DRM. Here's how that DRM works: when you put a new part in a device, the SOC and the device's main controller communicate with one another. They perform a cryptographic protocol: the part says, "Here's my serial number," and then the main controller prompts the user to enter a manufacturer-supplied secret code, and the master controller sends a signed version of this to the part, and the part and the system then recognize each other.

This process has many names, but because it was first used in the automotive sector, it's widely known as VIN-Locking (VIN stands for "vehicle identification number," the unique number given to every car by its manufacturer). VIN-locking is used by automakers to block independent mechanics from repairing your car; even if they use the manufacturer's own parts, the parts and the engine will refuse to work together until the manufacturer's rep keys in the unlock code:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

VIN locking is everywhere. It's how John Deere stops farmers from fixing their own tractors – something farmers have done literally since tractors were invented:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/08/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors/

It's in ventilators. Like mobile phones, ventilators are a grotesquely monopolized sector, controlled by a single company Medtronic, whose biggest claim to fame is effecting the world's largest tax inversion in order to manufacture the appearance that it is an Irish company and therefore largely untaxable. Medtronic used the resulting windfall to gobble up most of its competitors.

During lockdown, as hospitals scrambled to keep their desperately needed supply of ventilators running, Medtronic's VIN-locking became a lethal impediment. Med-techs who used donor parts from one ventilator to keep another running – say, transplanting a screen – couldn't get the device to recognize the part because all the world's civilian aircraft were grounded, meaning Medtronic's technicians couldn't swan into their hospitals to type in the unlock code and charge them hundreds of dollars.

The saving grace was an anonymous, former Medtronic repair tech, who built pirate boxes to generate unlock codes, using any housing they could lay hands on to use as a case: guitar pedals, clock radios, etc. This tech shipped these gadgets around the world, observing strict anonymity, because Article 6 of the EUCD also bans circumvention:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/10/flintstone-delano-roosevelt/#medtronic-again

Of course, Apple is a huge fan of VIN-locking. In phones, VIN-locking is usually called "serializing" or "parts-pairing," but it's the same thing: a tiny subassembly gets its own microcontroller whose sole purpose is to prevent independent repair technicians from fixing your gadget. Parts-pairing lets Apple block repairs even when the technician uses new, Apple parts – but it also lets Apple block refurb parts and third party parts.

For many years, Apple was the senior partner and leading voice in blocking state Right to Repair bills, which it killed by the dozen, leading a coalition of monopolists, from Wahl (who boobytrap their hair-clippers with springs that cause their heads irreversibly decompose if you try to sharpen them at home) to John Deere (who reinvented tenant farming by making farmers tenants of their tractors, rather than their land).

But Apple's opposition to repair eventually became a problem for the company. It's bad optics, and both Apple customers and Apple employees are volubly displeased with the company's ecocidal conduct. But of course, Apple's management and shareholders hate repair and want to block it as much as possible.

But Apple knows how to Think Differently. It came up with a way to eat its cake and have it, too. The company embarked on a program of visibly support right to repair, while working behind the scenes to sabotage it.

Last year, Apple announced a repair program. It was hilarious. If you wanted to swap your phone's battery, all you had to do was let Apple put a $1200 hold on your credit card, and then wait while the company shipped you 80 pounds' worth of specialized tools, packed in two special Pelican cases:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/22/apples-cement-overshoes/

Then, you swapped your battery, but you weren't done! After your battery was installed, you had to conference in an authorized Apple tech who would tell you what code to type into a laptop you tethered to the phone in order to pair it with your phone. Then all you had to do was lug those two 40-pound Pelican cases to a shipping depot and wait for Apple to take the hold off your card (less the $120 in parts and fees).

By contrast, independent repair outfits like iFixit will sell you all the tools you need to do your own battery swap – including the battery! for $32. The whole kit fits in a padded envelope:

https://www.ifixit.com/products/iphone-x-replacement-battery

But while Apple was able to make a showy announcement of its repair program and then hide the malicious compliance inside those giant Pelican cases, sabotaging right to repair legislation is a lot harder.

Not that they didn't try. When New York State passed the first general electronics right-to-repair bill in the country, someone convinced New York Governor Kathy Hochul to neuter it with last-minute modifications:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2022/12/weakened-right-to-repair-bill-is-signed-into-law-by-new-yorks-governor/

But that kind of trick only works once. When California's right to repair bill was introduced, it was clear that it was gonna pass. Rather than get run over by that train, Apple got on board, supporting the legislation, which passed unanimously:

https://www.ifixit.com/News/79902/apples-u-turn-tech-giant-finally-backs-repair-in-california

But Apple got the last laugh. Because while California's bill contains many useful clauses for the independent repair shops that keep your gadgets out of a landfill, it's a state law, and DMCA 1201 is federal. A state law can't simply legalize the conduct federal law prohibits. California's right to repair bill is a banger, but it has a weak spot: parts-pairing, the scourge of repair techs:

https://www.ifixit.com/News/69320/how-parts-pairing-kills-independent-repair

Every generation of Apple devices does more parts-pairing than the previous one, and the current models are so infested with paired parts as to be effectively unrepairable, except by Apple. It's so bad that iFixit has dropped its repairability score for the iPhone 14 from a 7 ("recommend") to a 4 (do not recommend):

https://www.ifixit.com/News/82493/we-are-retroactively-dropping-the-iphones-repairability-score-en

Parts-pairing is bullshit, and Apple are scum for using it, but they're hardly unique. Parts-pairing is at the core of the fuckery of inkjet printer companies, who use it to fence out third-party ink, so they can charge $9,600/gallon for ink that pennies to make:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Parts-pairing is also rampant in powered wheelchairs, a heavily monopolized sector whose predatory conduct is jaw-droppingly depraved:

https://uspirgedfund.org/reports/usp/stranded

But if turning phones into e-waste to eke out another billion-dollar stock buyback is indefensible, stranding people with disabilities for months at a time while they await repairs is so obviously wicked that the conscience recoils. That's why it was so great when Colorado passed the nation's first wheelchair right to repair bill last year:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/06/when-drm-comes-your-wheelchair

California actually just passed two right to repair bills; the other one was SB-271, which mirrors Colorado's HB22-1031:

https://leginfo.legislature.ca.gov/faces/billNavClient.xhtml?bill_id=202320240SB271

This is big! It's momentum! It's a start!

But it can't be the end. When Bill Clinton signed DMCA 1201 into law 25 years ago, he loaded a gun and put it on the nation's mantlepiece and now it's Act III and we're all getting sprayed with bullets. Everything from ovens to insulin pumps, thermostats to lightbulbs, has used DMCA 1201 to limit repair, modification and improvement.

Congress needs to rid us of this scourge, to let us bring back all the benefits of interoperability. I explain how this all came to be – and what we should do about it – in my new Verso Books title, The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

https://www.versobooks.com/products/3035-the-internet-con

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

Image: Mitch Barrie (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Daytona_Skeleton_AR-15_completed_rifle_%2817551907724%29.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

--

kambanji (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/kambanji/4135216486/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

--

Rawpixel (modified) https://www.rawpixel.com/image/12438797/png-white-background

[pearlzier]

maybe this is odd but. i can totally imagine matt being down bad for chris’s baby mama. like he was neutral about her when chris and her were hooking up but when she got pregnant/had the kid and she started hanging around the house more?? yeah, he was completely done for

wait. no i get it .... i get it !!! brother's baby mama!reader.... bbm!reader.... LMFAO / mdni for this thanksies 😋

matt didn't mind you all that much when you and chris got together. you're his brother's girlfriend, not much to say about you, he supposes. you're pretty cool, you make chris happy. yeah, you're pretty. incredibly so, matt knows that—he's not insane to think otherwise. your company's nice, when you hang out with him, nick and chris, he's happy to have you around. but you were nothing more than his brother's girlfriend, right? he didn't have feelings for you or anything.

till that fucking changed. matt had noticed you were acting a little different as of late, just slightly. foods you usually liked were putting you off, you got sick in the mornings a lot and you were just a little different. he hadn't thought you were pregnant with chris' kid, no. but along with nick, he'd found out when chris had come bounding down the stairs all excited about becoming a father. he knew the two of you were fucking, had heard it before but he'd thought you were using protection or you were on birth control, at least.

he didn't think it'd affect him all that much, but here he was, staring at you like a damn dog. you just look good. you're over at the house a lot more now, and his eyes find themselves on you a lot more too. he likes the way you dress more casually, more comfortably now, which means he gets to see more of you. particularly those tank tops, god, your tits look so good beneath the white cotton. the way your nipples pebble against it? he can't take it.

"you okay?" he'd ask you. "just sore, but y'know," matt knows they're sore too, he'd love to massage them for you and relieve the aching pain but that'd be crossing some sort of line, he knows. but he wishes those lines weren't there. "hope you feel better, alright? ask chris for a massage or somethin', don't want you achin' all day." he settled for, knowing he couldn't offer much else.

matt doesn't know what it is that's gotten him so pent up over you but he doesn't want it to stop. honestly? he kind of, no, not kind of, really wishes that he could've filled you up with his cum and gotten you pregnant with his kid. he would've pumped you full a thousand times over to have you stuffed full of him. it gets so bad that he finds himself pumping his fist over his cock in bed at the thought of getting you pregnant, or even just cumming inside of you and watching it ooze out of you.

he started realising how damn sweet you are and how badly he wants you for himself. every damn time he sees you, he wishes he'd gotten to you first instead of chris. it's definitely selfish, he knows, but he can't help himself. matt catches himself literally restocking the fridge with food he knows you're craving, just to feel better about everything. when you notice, you immediately think it's chris who got it for you—"chris? did you get me food?" chris is confused, no, he doesn't think so. he was gonna go tonight, "uh, no?"

well, hey, it's food, so you're not exactly complaining all that much. matt realises you just shrugged it off, and he feels the tiniest pang of disappointment as he glances away from the kitchen, looking back at his phone. he hears your footsteps from where he's sat, hearing them beside him. but he's taken off guard when he feels your hand on his shoulder. "thank you," it's simple, those two words, but the kiss you press to his cheek as you wander back off to do whatever, yeah, it makes his cock twitch in his pants and he has to practically sprint upstairs, locking himself in his room for an hour or so.

[khristie16]

A Game On Red

about: two ferrari boys are madly obsessed with you, they do whatever it takes to keep their pr manager just for themselves. warnings: daddy kink, size kink, guys are toxic, reader is innocent, jealousy, kidnapping, primal play, cnc, smut. tag list: @buendiabebeta words count: 2K Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Run cariño”

The cold environment around was not helping your situation at all. The wind was spreading around your skin like a plague and you felt goosebumps rising up your skin. You looked at both of them guys in disbelief. It was hunger and determination in their eyes. You knew you are their prey, but most importantly you started to feel like one. And although you knew what was waiting for you in the forest and who to await, somehow you couldn't bring yourself to commit to it.

“We give you a head start cherie, then there will be no help anymore. Choose wisely, your time is ticking”

Your eyes darted from side to side, your step back resulting in a crunch of something under your heel and you started to get scared. A sound that could become your nightmare echoed around you, causing anxiety, a desire to escape. Carlos groaned so inhumanly that you were starting to fear for your life. You hoped that they wouldn't ever hurt you, …right?

You knew there was no going back now. You expected what awaits you. You delayed your decision because you didn't want to admit what this theoretically meant for your future. And so you hesitantly turned around and started running. You didn't know that you weren't running away from them as much as you were running away from yourself, you were afraid of the answer to the question of why you let this get so far.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You feel weakness in your legs. You left your heels behind long time ago, you don't know how and you don't even know how long you've been running, and the only thing that keeps you company are the sounds of your breath and hooting owls. You heard nothing more. And you were glad for it. Until you heard the first distant steps behind you.

Your heart races in sync with each pounding footstep on the leaf-covered ground. The moon's feeble light barely penetrates the dense canopy, casting shadows that seem to reach out for you. That is when you're like a lighthouse, your dress lights up in the moonlight, it's like you're a siren calling your lover to you. But you weren't the one who had dominion over them. They have one over you and they're coming for you. You are their beautiful bait and they look forward to seeing what they can get out of you. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, mixing with the rustling leaves and the distant calls of dangerous creatures.

Your senses are on high alert, and you strain to hear any hint of your pursuer's approach. Your path is uncertain, guided only by instinct, and you pray that you don't stumble into a hidden trap or lose your way entirely. Each second feels like an eternity as you navigate this dark, twisted labyrinth, desperately seeking refuge and safety from the relentless pursuit that shadows your every move.

As you were getting lost in yourself, you found yourself in captivity. Like a hare caught in a trap. The hare was going to be dinner and that's exactly how you felt right now because you were hanging upside down and your legs were tightly tied together. Before you could recover, the world around you seemed a blur, and you couldn't find a single stable point of reference to focus on and pick up your spinning mind. It took some time for you to swing to a relatively stable motion in the suspension and you began to search for them with your eyes. You were scared and not sure if this was part of the game. What if you accidentally wandered into someone else's territory? After all you don’t know where you are and what type of people live around here. So you waited for a moment with a huge tension in your muscles, desperately trying to catch the tiniest bit of sound that would indicate that you were not alone. That desperate you were, to see your hunters. And some wishes come true.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“Look at the beauty. She is even bare for us.”

You knew it was Carlos talking. You saw a pair of legs walking right towards you. And you couldn't help but feel relieved that they had found you. What is going on with you? You could feel Charles as well, the rush of heat behind your back was quite noticeable. Your boys found you…

“So beautiful. Her wetness shines the same as her dress.”

Only now did you realize what he was talking about. Your clothes were revealing. You had them halfway down and the only thing stopping the fabric from going all the way down over your face were your breasts. You were like a sacrifice for both the two, in honor of their presence. You didn't know what to do with yourself, you started shaking if it was even more possible and you wanted to hide, you had never experienced such shame in your entire life.

Someone's fingers started to touch you very sensually at your bound ankles. They slowly moved from side to side and he gradually took it down to your thigh. You held your breath at the fact that this was the first time one of the boys had touched you like this. You felt your bottom flush with blood and you swallowed loudly in response. Charles chuckled at that. Before you could feel even more shame, someone's hands grabbed your thighs tightly and violently and you were suspended to a greater height. Your face was now at Carlos's crotch level and you couldn't help but smell his scent, which you've known so intimately for a few months now. You never realized how used to that smell you are… Carlos continued his act and opened you wide. Your knees were bucked to the sides and Charles pressed into you from behind with such vigor that it was impossible for you to fall down again. You had Carlos in the front and Charles in the back. In their captivity between their bodies that warmed you so.

“We thank god each day for you being so tiny. We can do whatever we please with you.”

“Oh and look Carlos how beautifully she is glistening for us. You waiting for us to devour you right cherie?”

You lost your words at his words. You’ve never experienced such thing, guys only ate you out in bed in a completely normal position, not hang up with your ankles tied together. Carlos growled immediately with your lack of response. You whined so hard because you didn't like the position you were in. You felt the blood rush to your brain and you expected it to get worse and worse.

“Cherie, it will only get worse, you will make us eat you like hungry wolves if you give us even less time.”

Your desperation showed in another wail and you forced yourself to answer them with your cries.

“Y-yes, I w-want you t-to”

“Want to what cariño”

“To e-eat m-me..”

You just had a little bit of time to let out a painful whine before they both started on you. One part of your cunt was handled by Carlos while Charles tore his tongue inside of you, neither of them making sure it was gentle. It was so intense that one whine turned into a loud moan and you no longer recognized who was who. Their tongues melded together as you experienced one intense bliss. They ate you like they hadn't eaten in a month and the more you wiggled and sighed, the more bites they added and you couldn't even bend your back because of how tightly they held you between them.

And so you got carried away. You had already given up on resisting them as your head hurt more and more and it was getting harder and harder to resist them, so you let yourself get carried away by the satisfaction they brought you. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer and the slightest movement from their mouth would cause you pain that you could never have imagined. On the contrary, if it was possible, you tried to immerse yourself in them more and more, because you were afraid that they might break away from you. Their tongues were like at home with your cunt. You let out everything you could, the guys digging their nails into you so deep you were sure they left scars on you as your orgasm accompanied you. The orgasm flew through your whole body to your head, where it was already ringing and you stopped being conscious. You slowly and intensely fell into unconsciousness surrounded by your possessed admirers. Was it the worst or the best thing that could have happened to you?

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“She's such a strong woman you see?”

“Yeah, she did sooo well Carlos. You need to be more nice to her.”

“She doesn't need nice. She needs us.”

You slowly started to wake up and blink your eyelids quickly to relieve yourself from the darkness and look around to see where you are now. You vaguely remembered what happened in the forest and now you were confused as to where you went. You couldn't come up with an answer, but you knew one thing for sure. Your shoulders are stiff and tense. When you took a little time, you found out that your hands were forcibly tied behind your back, someone was holding them. That is, you found yourself in the lap of Carlos, who held your wrists behind your back so much that your chest sticked out. And you knew by the smell that you must be in the car. When your eyes finally started to cooperate with your consciousness as well, you recognised that Charles was sitting in front of you, on the ground where the car seat had been positioned before.

“Hello cherie”

“Charles…”

You looked into his eyes, they were so gentle and carried so much comfort and warmth that you couldn't believe that this Charles was the same Charles from the forest, that animal from the forest that was harassing your pussy, it's a wonder you didn't lose all your humanity.

“I noticed that you have a weird obsession with my rings. You like them a lot don't you baby?”

You looked at him again and just stared blankly at him. Were you that noticeable? Charles has divine hands, and palms, and fingers, and you always wondered why you didn't faint when you saw those rings on his fingers, which you often imagined on your body.

“Y-yes…”

“I thought I could give you some of my rings. Sharing is caring, no?”

Now you had no idea what he meant. What would you do with his rings? You like those rings in the first place because he's wearing them. Before you could think twice, Charles pulled a box out of his pocket. Opening it, he pointed it towards you so you could see what was inside. There were two small circles, black circles. These were definitely not for the fingers. Your confusion was evident from your facial expression. Charles chuckled and continued on.

“I understand your obsession cherie. That's why I'm doing this to you. I give you my rings and you're gonna wear them proudly on your tits.”

That made you squirm a little. And only now did you notice that you were sitting there completely naked. Fear began to flow through your veins again and you waited to see what would happen next. You were excited about it.

“Look at her, she's so excited about it.”

Carlos remembered his presence and you flinched at his sudden reaction. You looked back at Charles who was already taking two small rings with his fingers and pinning them to your nipples. It was a pain that could make you sweat your soul out.

“I want you to wear them to the ceremony. I will buy you better ones later.”

The pain clouded your brain and the only sound you made was a whimper. After which Carlos put more pressure to your wrists. He obviously didn't like any sign of weakness. After a little bit of time you took for yourself to calm down and try to forget about the pain you’ve felt, you tried to remember what was Charles talking about not so long ago.

“About what ceremony are you talking about?”

Charles was creeping inside your cunt and one of his fingers was slowly disappearing inside you. You were watching it from the very first moment and you could come undone just from that.

“For claiming you as ours and keeping you”

Your brain went into overdrive and you slowly went back to thinking that this was all a bad idea and bad for your career. But Carlos, as if reading your mind, started kissing the side of your neck and earlobe. You closed your eyes and Charles added a second finger that sent you back into your dumb fucked state and you let yourself be swept away by the flow of satisfaction again.

“We need to make sure you're ready to take us. You're so tiny and tight baby girl.”

You started to move against him because the only thing you had become was a selfish thing chasing your own satisfaction and forgetting everything else in your joy. You would do anything to bring yourself to the peak. Carlos started biting you and you tilted your head back even more so he could destroy you even more. And you felt the growing thing in his pants that was trying to invade your space with this. You wanted it so bad. And you were so hoping to have them all night just for yourself.

“You want to come on my rings cherie?”

“Y-yes.”

Charles added a third finger and sped up. But you were far from done with your wish.

“And I want you to come on my rings too.”

Charles hissed at that and Carlos bit into your neck like never before. You were closer and closer and you were coming out with the words of Charles's name and his words in the air filling your ears.

“Come for me then cherie.”

[erinfern0]

simon "ghost" riley — nsfw headcanons

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

simon who can't stop himself from making sounds, burying his face in your neck to at least try to do that. soft moans and groans with each thrust, praises falling from his lips every few seconds.

simon who loves to hear your gasps and moans, hating when you try to stay quiet. always encourages you to keep going, to be louder.

simon who hates when you think too much about the way your body looks, how it folds in certain places. he'll praise those parts the most, lingering his fingers over them and kiss them until you forget about any insecurities.

simon who is just obsessed with kissing you. your cheeks, forehead, nose. those innocent little pecks are his second favorite. the absolute winner is obviously your lips, slowly moving against his.

simon who loves to see the mess you two are creating, watching how your combined slick sticks to his hairy thighs.

simon who bites into your shoulder when he's getting close, not too hard. just enough to leave a mark and help him collect his thoughts, keeping the amazing pace of his hips rolling against yours.

simon who adores watching you touch yourself. loves the way you spread your legs and let him watch, especially if you want him to guide you.

simon who chuckles when he gets overstimulated. sometimes he just breaks in the middle of speeding up his thrusts, eyes closed and hazed as he chuckles, too sexdrunk to form sentences.

simon who prefers getting handjobs over blowjobs. he just loves the intimacy of it and how he can hear you talk him through it. is obsessed if you just fondle the tip, the sounds of his precum filling the room.

simon who finds some sort of comfort if you don't shave. seeing your body hair or caressing it with his palms helps him to calm down.

simon who loves casual intimacy that doesn't exactly lead to sex. playing with your nipples while you two are watching a movie or slipping his hand under your shorts while you're washing the dishes.

simon who loves sex in the morning, especially when he has to wake up sooner than you. just the tiniest shifting of him trying to get up makes you wake up too, he apologizes with the sweetest words and starts kissing your neck. after you two are done, he cleans you up and allows you to go back to sleep before he leaves to take a shower.

simon who gets too overwhelmed sometimes. especially if you're together for a long time, he finds himself rambling in your aftercare time, sometimes a few tears will build up in the corners of his eyes while he tells you how good you've been to him. he's just so lucky to have you, so happy.

simon who loves aftercare in general and finds it extremely important. especially if you went through a rougher session. makes sure you're not too sore or you don't regret anything. water and snacks are his favorite part, just eating and enjoying each other's company.

simon who is too touch-starved after he's back from deployment. the first time you have sex when he's back he cums so fast he's almost ashamed of it. you just make him feel too good. after he calms down he makes up for all the time you two lost.

simon who loves the intimacy and vulnerability of giving you head. he gets so lost in your taste and the way you squeeze your thighs around his head.

simon who loves the marks you leave on him, especially when they're somewhere hidden. adores the sting of your nails digging into his forearms or thighs.

simon who loves to involve your inside jokes in dirty talk. he can't explain it but it just makes the whole thing more personal, a special moment between two lovers

masterlist | request info

[akoyaxs]

Hi! Could I request a fic where the Metkayina are having a festival and perhaps Rotxo, Aonung and Neteyam all had been crushing on our lovely fem!Na'vi!reader and are eager to try and court her so essentially they are all fighting for her attention?

Like reader doesn't notice this at all but the guys all are eager to ask reader to dance, perhaps pour a serving of food for reader to show their intent of courtship, give a gift and such but they don't realize they're all trying to court her until they notice that there's competition?

Perhaps reader is just talking with Tsireya, teasing her about her thing with Lo'ak and is oblivious while Aonung, Rotxo and Neteyam are plotting how to win reader's heart.

Each move they make has them glaring at each other when reader isn't looking and it's just 3 guys trying to win over one girl?

Who do you think would win this fight?

I offer free reign and this could either be sfw or nsfw (both are amazing)

Or.. perhaps alternate endings showing what happens depending on who wins her heart? 👀

Have fun with this, thank you! <3

༊࿐⋆｡˚𖦹

To be fair, you were oblivious at the best of times. It was something Tsireya had always teased you about- like she could be one to talk! And of course, while the two of you would sit giggling in her marui, the next room over, Aonung and Rotxo would be sitting in silence, each pretending to be in their own thoughts and enjoying each others company in silence, but they’d both really be listening for you. For your voice, for the sound of your smile beneath your words, for the tiniest of confessions you felt something for someone.

Nothing ever came, until another contender joined the fight. Rotxo tried to be kind to Neteyam like he was to others, and he buried his worry and jealously just as deep as his feelings for you. And Aonung, oh fiery, jealous Aonung didn’t try to even hide it. That fight on the beach only made his hatred for Neteyam grow deeper, especially the way you had shouted him down after it and then immediately went to apologise on Aonung’s behalf TO NETEYAM.

It was a while until Neteyam and Aonung and Rotxo became friends, and even longer before they finally came clean about what they truly felt. It was then - one night on an abandoned beach, roasting fish by a fire - that they decided on a fair game. May the best man win.

Each was determined, each had their own approach.

Neteyam was helpful, offering to teach you how to shoot a bow, telling you stories about the forest, inviting you to even fly on his ikran with him. (It was a smart tactic given the way you looped yourself all around him until every part of you was against him, yet most of the time your eyes were closed and it was rather clear you were terrified. He decided maybe heights weren’t your thing, and amended his plan).

Rotxo was sweet, bringing you every little thing he could. Little shells and seaglass and stones he found to match your eyes, or your favourite top. Then of course making jewellery with his precious finds, and leaving them in little places for you to find. You didn’t know he was the one doing it, and he was too shy to give it to you at first, but the first time he saw that woven necklace with the pearl on it, he was sure his heart could have burst into flame.

And Aonung, oh ridiculously confident Aonung, wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He had never felt like this - aflame every time he saw you, always occupied by every thought of you, heart thumping wildly everytime your fingertips brushed over him. He found himself seating himself beside you at every party, every dinner, every festival. He would set his leg aside so it would brush yours no matter the distance, revelling in the way you flushed but never moved away. He would keep his eyes on you at every fight, then come straight to you to clean him up and fuss over him, telling him not to fight all the time or next time you wouldn’t help him. (You were lying, the next time he came back, you even gave his neck a little massage when you complained).

It was only at the festival that they decided enough was enough. Your ignorance to their feelings was becoming a little ridiculous now.

So they assumed the positions. Neteyam offering to dance with a charming smile. Rotxo flitting around bringing you drinks and food and everything he could lay a hand on until you placed a hand on his arm with a gentle smile and told him you were fine, why doesn’t he just sit and talk with you for a bit? Of course, Aonung settled himself in his normal position at your side, closer than usual, leaning back on an arm when Neteyam reapproaches, an arm positioning itself just beyond the far side of your waist so he’s half-holding you into him.

And what could you do?

Three of them - one of you?

༊࿐⋆｡˚𖦹

IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...

You best imagine that the smile on his face was nothing short of radiant. He would take you straight away from the festivities for a moonlit walk along the beach, halfway through he'd finally take your hand and revel in the ease with which your fingers lace in his. He'd tell you why he likes you, how long he's liked you, just how beautiful you look in the pale moonlight. Shortly after which he'd kiss you, and you'd melt straight into him and never leave his arms again.

He's never been more excited. more nervous. more terrified. Truth be told, he had never really thought this far because he'd never be self-assured enough to think you'd actually choose him over Neteyam or Aonung. But under your gaze and smile and gentle squeeze of his hand, he stammers everything he likes about you and the whole truth about everything and then, nervously...

"Can I kiss you?"

It's sweet, gentle, tentative. He breathes you in, his hand tangling in your hair, revelling in the way you smile against his lips, or the way your hair smells like coconut.

Oh, and he 100% asked Can I be your boyfriend now?

Oh, Aonung would never admit he was surprised. But the feeling of relief when he knows you chose him takes him by surprise. Instantly he's bundling you the fuck away from other people, a wide grin stretched across his face, holding you as close to him as possible until you're safely behind the woven curtain of your marui. Best believe you got some good dick that night, but also the from gentlest, kindest version of Aonung you have ever seen. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time, forehead pressed you yours, lips never leaving your skin, whether it be your lips, forehead, neck, breasts, collar, cheek, jaw, literally wherever they can land.

Also he would confess everything to you while he's inside and close, sort of like a Simon and Daphne moment from bridgerton but ONE HUNDRED times better because you all know that I might like Aonung just a little bit >-<

[sb-essebi]

thinking about... Dream telling Desire to stay away from Hob. Telling them that he'll forget they're family if they hurt Hob or mess with him somehow. Not because Desire has done anything to Hob in almost 700 years he's been alive, but just in case. Because Dream loves Hob, actually, he loves him so much he won't say a word about it because obviously Hob would never be interested and besides Dream's love is ruin yadda yadda so he'll be damned if Desire is the one to bring about Hob's doom just because Dream was clear enough that Hob is off-limits.

Desire just... shudders in disgust and is like. No. Don't worry, not going anywhere near that one. Never been, never gonna. Not happening, thank you very much.

And Dream is just completely befuddled because Desire sounds... actually 100% honest? So Dream replies with the most confused and high-key offended "Why???", because why wouldn't Desire mess with Hob? Can't they see that Dream loves him desperately? can't they see that Hob is fucking perfect, actually, and he's Dream's best friend and Dream's whole world can't revolve around him but it's a close thing? how dare they not consider Hob worthy of being messed with?

(yes, Dream is so caught up on being offended that Desire doesn't seem to see how important and perfect Hob is that he doesn't realize that Desire being uninterested is ideal and literally Dream's desired outcome)

So Desire explains that they literally couldn't stand being in the same room as Hob. Ugh. Just perceiving him, his desires, his heart is vomit-inducing. Hob tastes of unconditional devotion to Dream. He reeks of pure unbridled scorching-hot lust for Dream. His heart has a Dream-shaped hole in it and has Dream's name written all over it. He desires the tiniest scrap of Dream's attention with the same intensity he desires Dream's hand in marriage. He'd be great if he were just greedy for life and food and drink and sex but nooo, he takes those just enough for granted these days that he desires nothing but Dream's company, Dream's smiles, Dream's touch, Dream in his home, Dream in his dreams, Dream's lips and the feel of Dream's hair and the smell of Dream's skin and the taste of Dream's- listen, it's just Dream Dream Dream in that guy's head all day every day and Desire. can't. stand it. It's not the too much desiring that's the problem, it's the too much desiring Dream that is. Desire WISHES they could just cut Hob off from their realm so they could stop feeling it, but they can't!

Anyway, this is how Dream finds out Hob loves him, and he has to excuse himself immediately to process the double delight of "he loves me back" and "this very fact makes Desire's existence absolutely wretched"

Of course, Desire's existence is about to become even more miserable as Dream satisfying some of Hob's desires is like a dam breaking open, if he wanted Dream when he thought it would never happen then watch Hob want him now that it's within his grasp. Desire never knows peace again.

[missyandthemisfits]

Obi/Hinawa x Reserved!Fem! Reader 

A/N Requested a whiiile ago, I'm so sorry for the wait *cries in procrastination*

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

Akitaru Obi

- Obi likes to think he's a nice cross between a serious, strong willed leader and a fun guy to be around - and he'd be correct in his assumptions.

- He doesn't take himself too terribly seriously but also knows when and how to command authority and as such, has experience handling all sorts of personality types; so meeting someone as even tempered and reserved as (Name)?

- Truthfully, it's almost like a breath of fresh air .

- He approaches her like he approaches anyone; with kindness and a warm smile, careful not to startle her out of her book but speaking just loud enough for her to know he's addressing her. 

- Somehow, she's still a bit jumpy despite his approach but he makes sure not to draw any attention to it, introducing himself with an outstretched hand, patiently waiting for her to take it. They're pretty fast friends and from then on, it's like they lean towards the other's company more than they realize.

- It's subconsciously grained into them a few months after meeting; Anytime they're in a room together one will gravitate toward the other, sitting or standing, exchange glances and smiles all the while, even during team meetings. 

- She just feels... really seen with him. And very safe. 

- And she's always incredibly attentive, able to scope out his emotional state with pinpoint accuracy, even when he's trying not to make a spectacle of it.

- In fact, they soon realize how much emotional support the other provides, mere seconds later realizing just how much the other means.

- He wastes no time confessing his feelings.

- "-And I know this might be sudden, but I'd very much like to take you out to lunch some time. Honestly, I think you're a real catch (Name), and I'd hate to miss out on the opportunity. Life's too short." 

- The confession is so forward yet well meaning it sends (Name) into shock; a blushing, stuttering shock.

- But he waits patiently, albeit slightly nervous, for her reply; it's a yes, of course. 

Takehisa Hinawa 

- Hinawa is...a very no-nonsense individual, one could take a single look at him and tell.

- It's because of this fact that he actually strongly prefers someone a little more reserved than most. That said upon meeting (Name), he was convinced that if the infernals didn't eat her alive, the rigorous Fire Force training would. To his surprise, he was dead wrong. In fact, she excelled.

- She was capable of taking out swarms of Infernals in seconds with expert offensive abilities partnered with spot on defensive capabilities. She was tactical and focused, something he noticed many of his peers lacked even on the battlefield. He grew to respect her prowess, honestly. 

- "Excellent work out there, (Name)."

- "!!!"

- She gasped loudly, startled at the approach of the man and his seemingly random compliment. 

- He watched in disbelief as she subconsciously backs into a wall, facing him, face reddened. 

- He doesn't necessarily lose respect for her, but he certainly thinks twice before approaching her unexpectedly again - not hard for him at all, but she does feel pretty bad for overreacting.

- Works up the nerve to apologize but also stumbles into a very unexpected confession. 

- "...Th-that is to say... I respect you as a Lieutenant and-,"

- "So am I wrong to assume you want a pursue a romantic relationship?" 

- "Um...!"

- (Name) is at war with herself for a few more moments and he sighs, running a hand through his hair with the tiniest blush, gaze averted somewhere to the side. 

- "...I only ask because I myself might be interested..."

- It's... less than romantic but (Name) can tell it took him a lot to say it. She could tell they'd be taking their time in this thing, together. 

)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()(

[maidenborn]

Detective Love-struck! smooth criminal

the fourth and final part of Detective Love-struck! , part three here! Shoto x fem!reader in which reader finally uncovers who her secret admirer is.

Word Count: 5,295

It was yours and Shoto's turn to do the dishes. You stood next to Shoto, drying each dish he handed to you, zoning out in-between each plate. An ambient buzz filled the silence between you, that and the clattering of dishes and water splashing. A warm haze of light lit the room, blanketing you in golden radiance. Contrast to the cold blue that shrouded the outside, an onslaught to the soon approaching sunset. You'd caught Shoto stealing glances at you out of the side of your vision, but that was nothing new for you. Giggling to yourself quietly. You had complained once about soggy food in the sink, and how you hated washing the dishes, ever since then you'd be the one to dry everything and Shoto would wash them.

Thinking back on it, Shoto would do anything you asked him. If you were uncomfortable, even in the tiniest most insignificant, unimportant way, he would put himself in-between you and whatever it was that was irritating you. Even something as minuscule as preferring to switch tasks with one another. It was never a problem for him. You felt bad sometimes, he would always oblige, not even the smallest about of objection from him, no matter what it was. It kinda made you feel like you were pushing him about, making him out to be an easy mark or a pushover or something, with how he'd never decline. Aways willing, silent but willing nonetheless. He'd reassure that you weren't actually being a brat and how he didn't mind, but you still felt guilty for it.

You remember how in middle school, Shoto would share his soba with you whenever you were grossed out with whatever you had been packed for lunch. He'd told you once that it was compensation for always sitting with him in class, for being his friend despite, in his words, "how different I am to every one else" . He was often alone without your company, he had a silent aversion to anyone that wasn't you. So he'd repay your company with soba every now and then - and whenever you refused to eat your food of course. Those small favours were so simple, yet they meant so much more to you then it would seem.

"We should try those crepes Mina told me about." You turned towards the boy, catching his eyes on you yet again. Placing a dried plate down.

"Crepes?" He hands you another.

"Mhm!" You nod at him, turning back to work on a plate, "Mina- this one needs to be washed again- Mina told me they're real popular!"

"Tomorrow?" He takes the plate back from you," It's a date."

All of a sudden you had lost all hearing in both ears. If your older brother was here he'd call it selective hearing, but obviously he would. You called it your 'super annoying drawback from your almighty, all-powerful super secret telepathy quirk'. Either way, you chose to ignore what Shoto had just said. Instead focusing on the warmth in your cheeks, and drying the plate you were hold-

"Shoto this one also needs to be washed again."

The day was almost over, suddenly feeling productive, you'd decided to get ahead on your assignments for next week. You padded over to your laptop on your dorm desk to use the lounge area printer. You reckon it would be allot less time consuming to just print out everything you needed rather then writing it out by hand. Making your way over to the common area, you spotted a handful of your classmates conversing in the lounge, two heads of green hair, one red, one blonde and one purple. You nodded your head to Izuku in greeting, waving your hand to Tsu and Jirou as you made your way past, you smiled at both Bakugo and Kirishima, only being replied to by the red-head with an enthusiastic wave and a toothy grin. Bakugo looking to the side with an irritated pout, ignorant as always.

Finally you arrived at the printer, huffing you collected the paper that had been processed by the machine, it whirred as you took them. Noticing the touchscreen on the front of the printer, your eyes lit up with realisation. You tapped frantically at the touchscreen for a couple of seconds, coming to a stop as you stared at the screen before you.

'Printer history' Your heart was pounding, jumping against your chest, rhythmic pattern, erratic. What if it wasn't even printed here? What if he isn't anyone in this class? Your finger was twitching, hovering over the screen. You slid your eyes to the side, scanning your peripheral, you took note of the group, backs turned to you, apart from Kirishima and Bakugo, sitting on the furthest sofa, both oblivious to your current predicament.

You sighed with relief, a cold sweat beading on the back of your neck. You pressed the screen. Various file names loaded up along with the time they were printed, the user of the device the file was sent from, the pages you had just printed, and some other, random file names. You guessed they weren't the files you were looking for.

Scrolling down you spotted it. A file titled DearLnYn.txt, the first two words of the second letter you had received. You're heart rate had come to an all time high, you couldn't bare to look at the User, it was just off the right, your vision of the text concealed by your still raised finger. You snatched your hand down to your side, gaping your eyes to the right. Your next breath hitched in your lungs.

File name : DearLnYn.txt 20:57 User: Izuku Midoriya

"Eh!?"

Your mind was racked full of voices, each one talking over the other. Frantic, panicking voices. You had begun retreating back to the confines of your room, completely forgetting to bring your printed assignments with you. You picked up the pace, wanting to get as far away, as fast as possible, from the green haired boy. Your thoughts, disorganised, chaotic and muddled, swirling, you lost your footing. Coming to a stop stumbling against the hallway wall. Steadying your breath and setting your mind straight. What the hell is going on?! You were unable to even fathom the possibility that Midoriya could be the one who- You were almost one hundred percent sure that it was-

"Yn," Shoto Todoroki appeared in front of you. "What are you.." He gulped, breath harsh,"What are you doing?" You raised your head, latching onto the sight of the boy, he seemed distressed.

"Shoto.." Your eyebrows creased, head tilting to the side, subconsciously drawn to his form, you approached him wearily, like you're afraid he'd shatter in this state. "Whats'a matter Sho?" fiddling with the fabric of your shirt. "Sho?"

"It's nothing serious," He turned his full attention towards you, still tense but his eyes soft. "It's just my father- he's so irritating." Coming closer to you.

"What happened?" You lean into him, head placed gently on his shoulder. You could hear his heartbeat, the pace of yous matching his as you made contact with him.

"He just- he's so overbearing, even when I'm away from him. Even when he can't watch my every move, he's still so overpowering." He huffed, brushing his hand against your arm briefly before continuing, " I expect nothing less from him, but it's still is so infuriating. Asking me if I'm training hard, if I'm slacking off, as if." He sharply uttered. "Who I'm hanging around, like they're distractions. Like I came to UA to make friends." He held his head low, eyes furrowed staring into you. Body rigid until he slumps his shoulders. "Im sorry."

He gripped your shoulder, pulling you away from him so he could see you more clearly. "I don't mind, Shoto, it's okay." Smiling up at the boy, you felt the compassion in his stare.

“Thank you for listening, Yn. I mean it.” Hand still resting on your shoulder, so warm, so right.

The sight of him stole your breath right out of your lungs. His eyes all over you, beautiful, crystalline. The yellow light of the hallway rebound off of them. Casting a warm glow into his stare. Natural blood stained locks framing his face, flicking downward to his mouth.

You didn't know what to say, at a loss for words you remind silent, admiring.

“Were you headed to your room?” He questioned, “ I was worried when I first saw you. You looked disoriented. Are you feeling okay?”

A little stunted by the sudden interrogation, you felt your cheeks heat up as you nodded sporadically, “mhm,” You hadn’t quite come to terms with your new findings just yet, weighing the pros and cons of telling the boy standing in front of you.

Coming to a quick conclusion, “I have something to tell you Shoto, something I just figured out.” His soft smile found itself replaced, his eyes working their way around each feature on your face, as if you had your next words on display. His eyebrows pulled together with concern.

" Deku is the one who wrote the letter."

"What."

“I don’t know either Shoto. On the printer,” You gestured a hand behind you, towards the common room, “I found the file, the letter. Said it was printed by the ‘User: Izuku Midoriya.”

“That-“

You shrugged, lips pursed, slapping your hand to the side of you face, rubbing your eye. “I don’t know…” You trailed off. “Listen, I think I'm gonna go get some rest, ‘s been a long day.” You reached up to him patting him on the chest, “ You sure you’re okay? I can stay with you if you need.”

He shook his head, eyes drifting off, thinking. “No..” He mumbled, clearly deep in thought. At that you tapped him one last time before saying your goodbyes, treading off towards your room once again. Sighing head facing the ceiling, contemplating. Your head hurt.

You woke up with a blunt ache in your head, your efforts last night to nurse your incoming headache proved to be useless. You groaned miserably at the feeling, memories from yesterday returned to you, only worsening your mood. You felt like a backseat passenger in your own body, on autopilot as you got ready for the day. You managed your affliction well enough though, washing the sleep away. You catch your eyes in the reflection in the mirror, downtrodden dark circles under your eyes. “Lovely.” You moan under your breath. Grazing your cheek with you fingertips slightly. An image of Midoriya flickers in your head, you cringe at the thought. Looking over your appearance as you inspect your face for a couple moments before turning out the door.

You aren’t greeted by Uraraka and Mina this morning, turning into an empty hallway, you start walking, gripping your bag. Your footsteps, the only sound in the hall, echoing, before you hear a voice.

“Morning Yn!”

You spin. Izuku Midoriya stands behind you. Your heart drops. You feel like you're in some reoccurring nightmare, trapped in an endless hallway, or a helpless victim in a thriller, were the perpetrator is a quite harmless-looking teenage boy. You shudder, embarrassed at the thought. It's just Deku, you reassure.“Morning.” You unenthusiastically drone with a limp wave, head throbbing.

“Mind if i walk with you?” He marches up next to you, so loud.

“Uhmm..” You stutter thrown off, you track his movements as he walks up to you, “yeah if you wanna.”

“Great! Thanks Yn!” He gushes lyrically. Tilting his head as he notices you grasping at the side of your head, “Everything okay?”

“Just a headache.” You grimace at the blunt tingle. "I'll be fine."

You walk with the boy for a while, stopping on the path to your first period class. "Midoriya?"

He keeps waking for a few paces, rambling on to himself about his hero studies, before stopping with a squeak, "Yn?" He turns to you eyes wide with curiosity. "What's up" Smiling.

"You're the one who put those letters in my locker aren't you." You purse your lips, eyebrows curved downwards. Better to get it over with now. "I can't accept your feelings, Midoriya." You shake your head, eyes trained on the floor, “ Especially not since I-“ Your head shoots up.

“What no!” He mirrors you, shaking his head, although a lot more frantically. He raises his hands in defence, waving them side to side, his eyes wide in peril.

“Wha…” You sigh, mouth agape, nostrils flaring in embarrassment.

“You’ve got the wrong idea! I-I swear!” He slowly starts backing up eyes looking anywhere but at you, deep red coats his face, fading all the way down to his neck, he takes -what you think is the deepest bow you’ve ever seen, muttering something unintelligible before scrambling away .

What the hell is going on?!

You look around, checking to see if anyone just witnessed whatever it was that just happened. Empty hallway. Good. You reckon Midoriya was just nervous, at least you were able to let him know that you couldn’t reciprocate how he feels. Dragging your feet as you follow behind him to class.

Throughout the entirety of first period, Izuku Midoriya refused to acknowledge your presence. Not that you wanted him to anyways. The interaction you experienced prior had been seared into your brain, sweating discomfort. When he saw you walk though the door he spun himself around, knocking himself into an unaware Bakugo. You watched him in silence as he almost jumped out of his skin trying to apologise to the boy, only to have his tie yanked, and then exploded. Shuffling past the two of them as indifferent as possible and taking a seat. You leaned to the side, two seats ahead of you sat the boy, squinting your eyes at him, as if that would grab his attention, if he looked back at you- he wouldn't, you'd probably try and hide. You were attempting to gauge whether he was set to ignore you for the rest of the day. Shifting back into your seat. Looking over to Shoto, about to greet him, you realised you weren't the only one with your eyes on Midoriya.

Shoto eyes had darkened, examining the green haired boy, none the wiser. His brows had pinched together, corners of his mouth downturned in the start of a deep frown. You'd never seen your spit haired friend so worked-up, not at Midoriya at least. You reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. The contact dissipated the look on his face, swivelling his head to face you, all of a sudden calm. Only the twitch in the corner of his mouth remained, a shadow of his face just seconds before. He pulled his head to the side, resting it on his shoulder, staring into you. "Yn? Need help?" He lifted himself out of his chair slightly, resting his forearms on his desk, leaning towards you to get steal a look at your work.

"Nooo, all good, and good morning." You ducked your head at the sound of Aizawa announcing something unimportant, you continued talking, quieter this time, "Why are you giving Deku a death stare?" You jerked your head in the direction of Izuku.

"Morning." Looking at Deku and then back at you. "I wasn't giving him a death stare.." He looks back again at the boy, "You can kill people with a single look?" Dead serious face.

You opened your mouth preparing to respond, finding no words coming out. "Shoto..." You could not believe what you had heard, more concerned then amused. The boy squinted slightly before twisting his mouth into a small smile. So. Not. Funny.

"It was a joke, Yn." Now smiling fully. Pearly whites figuratively blinding you. You exhaled, pinching at your nose bridge. You almost believed he was serious. Pursing your lips, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile, he took your lack of reaction as a chance to poke at your cheek, taunting you. You slapped his finger away, puffing out your cheeks and turning away from him, trying your hardest to focus on your classwork. "Don't ignore me."

"Go away." You bluffed, looking back at the boy to make sure he knew you weren't serious. You cupped your hand to the side of your face, blocking yourself from his view.

"Fine." He shuffled around for a moment. You peeked out between a slit in in between your fingers only to be greeted by the sight of Todoroki copying your pose. You snickered. "you're so annoying."

You have an inkling that Shoto is mad at Deku, what for, you have no idea. Classes had just ended for the day, Shoto spent all day at your side, like he usually does. The absence of Midoriya evident in the way he avoided you like the plague. As quiet as Todoroki can be, today he was scarily silent. Brooding almost. You had briefly separated from one another to get changed for your after school outing, planning to meet up to go to the cafe together. Only you were snatched up by Mina before you could reach Shoto. Foiling your plan, what would have been a relaxing stroll was now quite literally the opposite. At least she has the decency not to drag you down the street.

You sent a text to Shoto, letting him know. You felt bad for leaving him behind, but your pleads to Mina to wait up fell on deaf ears. Slipping your phone into your pocket, you caught up with Mina, she was skipping ahead of you in the street, twirling, in a world of her own. Your mind drifted off recalling the events of the past couple of days. Retracing the letters you received, thinking back to the notes Deku had written: the list of 'clues' you had gathered the night before. You couldn't comprehend how he'd go out of his way to help you, whilst also being the one you were looking for the entire time. How scheming. Even if you did ask him for his help in the first place, you couldn't see why he'd do it.

He's like a serial killer who disguises himself as an innocent civilian, helping out the police investigation- or something like that. An image of Deku with red horns protruding from his green locks, paired with a forked tongue pops up in your minds eye.

You lingered on the notes Deku had written, the only ones - that you knew of- that applied to him, were that he's male, he's ranks 4th in class, so does that make him skilled academically? Or just above average? You feel your head ache returning.

When it comes to combat, you can admit he's certainly resilient, and adaptable. Other than those two being checked off the list, you had no idea how well off his family was, in terms of money. Or what fruits he likes and what tv he enjoys. And obviously his quirk was not fire related, if that clue proves to have any meaning behind it. On top of that, he did attempt to deny your accusation. Sooo..?

You furrowed your brows, working through what he said to you this morning. Could it be that it isn't him after all?! A flame lit in your chest, taking a deep breath in, the crisp air coated your lungs. Cooling glaze of the wind coating you. Ahead, you spotted the pastel cursive sign of the cafe you were heading towards. Treading on.

Forced out of your thoughts by Mina's excited squeal, spinning on her heel to grab at your forearm, the scent of her perfume forcing its way into your nose during the close proximity. She yanks you towards her, "We're here!" Pulling you to her chest, "Lets go!" Before taking off, still holding on to you. You struggle to balance your footing, letting her drag you off.

Up ahead, through blurry, shaky vision, you spotted- through the stores glass window, Kirishima and Bakugo sitting at a table, Bakugo was yelling at the red-head, hitting him over the head with a textbook. Ouch. Bouncing through the store doors, Mina shimmied over to the boys. Where the hell does she get all that energy from? She had let go of your hand on the way in, turning around you see another group of classmates approaching the store. "Guess this is it." You say to Mina, she doesn't hear you.

Slightly disheartened as you slip into the seat of the table, parallel to the full one beside you. Glancing to the side, Bakugo side-eyes you, also ignoring you, only on purpose. He hisses at Kirishima and the pink haired girl after they ask him if he wants anything. Noooo don't leave him with me, you whine in your head, as they walk away, not daring to actually say that out loud less the ticking time bomb hear you.

Unloading your bag, placing your stationary infront of you, turning a couple of pages in your notebook, you come across the notes Deku had written, you must have tucked the page in there yesterday night. Like right out a scene in some cheesy cartoon, a light bulb lights right up above your head, or at least that's what you imagine you look like right now. You snap your head to the right, directly at Bakugo who has his nose in his textbook- the one he was using to bludgeon his friend mere moments ago.

"Soooo Bakugo." You saunter up next to the boy's sitting figure, your chair making an agonising sound as it drags across the floor. He's now leaning back in his chair, hands in pockets, scowl on face. " How do you feel about murder mysteries?" You ask, slightly low in volume. One eyebrow raised, squinting at the last word, accusatory. Slowly you lean towards him in an attempt to analyse his reaction.

"Hah?! You hit your head or something? Forehead! " He growls, eyes narrowed, snarling like a beast.

You gasp, slightly hurt at the insult, standing up straight, fist clenched to your chest with hurt. "Jerk! It was just a question, no need to insult me!" You pinch you brows together, balling your fists at your side in frustration. ass.

"What type of questio-" The boy only gets more riled up at your reaction, jumping out of his chair, it falls against the floor with a crash. Garnering the attention of a few employees. "You got a death wish, freak? Who are you calling' jerk, huh?! " He gets all up in your face, it doesn't seem like it's him, and for that, you're thankful. What a handful... The blond boy continues, spitting,"You're the one stalkin' me, staring at me like 'ya do, 'n asking weird questions! Freak!" He yells again, 'Jeez I get it.' His voice filled with venom, eyes darkening.

" I was not stalking-"

"Whatever." Bakugo spurts out a string of curses that you can't even recognise, not even letting you finish, barging past you to walk over to Kirishima, who's staring at you two, concerned look on his face. You shrug at him. Bakugo wasn't even a little bit bashful at your interaction. Your shoulder hurts where he knocked past. You follow his frame over to where he's walking and spot your split haired friend. Shoto's here! You think as drag your chair back over to its rightful table.

That went well. It also means there's only one suspect left, unless Mineta- who is currently eyeing you, outside, pressed up against the glass- Is secretly a super smart, super strong rich guy. What a pig.

You gulp hard at the thought, not at the thought of Mineta, gross, but the thought of approaching him. The task suddenly seeming daunting.

It's possible. If Deku and Bakugo count as suspects, he could too. He fit into over half of the criteria the culprit had laid out for you. It had to be him. You wanted it to be him. It all seemed clear to you now.

You trudged up to him, announcing your presence with every step. Not even able to get a word in before you pull him out of the door with you, abandoning your studies. He stumbles back, gripping you for balance, "What's the matter Yn?" He sounds the tiniest bit annoyed at your rapid attack.

You ignore the strain in his voice, "Going to get crepes, remember?" Looking back at him him, innocent look planted on your features. He relaxes at your explanation, slipping his arm away, only to replace his touch with a hand wrapped around yours. The warmth returns to you, humming contently. This isn't so bad.

"Which flavour will you get, Sho?" You nudge him with your shoulder, loosely knocking him to the side. You get pulled along with him, his grip on you never loosening.

He returns the favour, although a lot more gentle. "Im not sure. What flavours do they have?"

You recall the information Mina had told you when you asked her the same question, "Chocolate hazelnut, caramel, Oreo annnd~ strawberry too!" You list the selection of desserts to the best of your ability, probably forgetting some.

Shoto clicks his tongue, heedless to your advances.

Arriving at the crepe stand and ordering the goods, Shoto picks out the strawberry flavour, just like you did, which could mean absolutely nothing. You smile at him. He smiles back, shooting a rush up your spine, diffusing into goosebumps all over you. Did he always have this effect on you?

Soon after you order, you are handed your treats by the clerk, you pull out your wallet, only to be bested by a faster, more agile Shoto. "I can pay, y'know." Offering.

"That's too bad, because I'm paying." He quips.

"So sassy, Mister." He sniffs at your nickname.

The two of you take a seat at a nearby bench, Shoto preferring to sit with you only, rather then return to the rather packed cafe.

"I think I figured it out, Sho" You break the comfortable silence between the two of you, taking a bite of your crepe. It's filled with a cream filling sweet and fluffy, completing the soft crepe and the tart taste of the strawberries. You hum, pleased, taking your mind off what's to come.

"Figured out what, Yn?" He mirrors your pattern of speech, taking a bite of his crepe, peering at you out of the side of his eye.

You turn your head to face him. "What do you think?" You question sweetly. Twitching your eyebrows up at him.

"Midoriya wasn't the one who wrote the letters." His voice is quiet.

"Right," You turn back. Finishing your food.

Neither of you know what to say. There's a breeze lingering in the air, it rushes over the both of you, cooling you down.

"You. You or Deku, one of you put the notes in my locker. You had him help you?" Your tone indicating you weren't entirely sure.

You suspicions were confirmed with a nod, red and white hair swaying along with the motion.

"You had him help you. Give me clues 'n stuff, to let me know who you were. To tell me how you felt." His gaze lowered over you. "That's why on the printer it said he printed them."

Another nod.

"Did you write the letters, or did he?"

"I did." He struggled to keep eye contact, looking away. "But he did help."

"If Deku helped you write the letters, why were 'ya glaring at him in class this morning?"

" I thought Midoriya was trying to take credit for writing them. Since he never came to me, to tell me you found out.."

"I don't think he'd do that Sho."

He didn't reply to that. Clearly unconvinced. Unwavering in his opinion.

It was hard to believe you were right this time. The signs all pointed toward him , but still you struggled to come to terms with it all.

"I never knew you liked strawberries Sho, thought you were kinda indifferent to 'em" You saw it in his eyes, his eyes were looming. Hardening. "They're my fav too y'know!" You try to ease the sudden seriousness the conversation was steering towards.

At that he looked at you again. This time he didn't look away.

"That's why they're my favourite, Yn." His eye contact unwavering, cool-toned eyes frozen in place.

'Jeez,' You chuckle, "You're allowed t'have your own opinions you know." You joke at the boy.

He doesn't reply, but you know he knows, he just doesn't care.

You stayed seated like that for a while. Shoto got closer to you, gravitating towards you. Just like he'd always do. He smelled sweet, lips glazed with the remains of the crepe he'd eaten. The sun was setting now.

You don't know how long you were staring at each other for. You found yourself leaning in to his frame, growing ever close to you. You looked up at his fluttering lashes, trembling lip. He wanted to say something.

"Whats on your mind, Sho?"

His breaths had picked up, gasping slightly. He shut his mouth, huffing out his nose, in frustration.

You were patient with him, placing your hand onto his that was resting on the bench in-between you and him. You saw he was nervous in the way he tapped his foot at an irregular pace, and how he couldn't look into your eyes for more than three seconds.

"Hey it's okay." Cupping his face, directing him to look at you. His eyes were darting around and his breath had hitched at your touch. Then he relaxed into you. "You could've just told me you know." Tilting your head, " Didn't have to do all this."

He nodded, placing his hand on top of yours, running his fingertips up and down your wrist. "It was easier then telling you in person."

"Right, I remember you said that in the letter." His second hand lingered over you. Up and up until it planted itself onto your cheek, pulling you into him. Forehead resting on yours.

"Well, detective." Leaning impossibly closer. "What's the verdict?"

You giggled at his nickname, 'Detective' you whispered, remembering the last time he called you that. "You're guilty."

"Yeah." Chuckling.

Both smiling ear to ear, childlike, giddy. Shoto pursed his lips, smile fading into something calmer. You were about to pull away, but he tilted his head against yours, lips hovering just inches apart.

"I really want to kiss you, Yn." His squeezed your wrist his his hand, the warmth traveled up you, like a shockwave.

You didn't answer, fulfilling his request instead. Your lips lead onto his. Tender and sweet, just like you. It send a million sparks through him, staring at his fingertips, his lips, all the way though him. Shoto had to fight the urge to activate both his quirks, pulling away as soon as it got too much.

You were met with the sight of a steaming Shoto, mist rising from his left side, frost tricking up his neck on his right.

He quickly rids himself of the frost and flame, apologising with a bow of his head. Surprised when you only laugh in his face. It lights something in him, a flame. He wishes he could watch you laugh forever. His fantasy is cut short as you gasp, suddenly enamoured with the sunset on the horizon.

Rays of gold laid out before him, but all he could see was you. You were encapsulated by the sight, sitting still against him, beckoning him to follow your eyes, but he watches you instead.

He grew up hard. But he fell in love with you way harder, and it showed.

OMG AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH TAHTS IT EVERYONE!11111!!!

this is barley edited so excuse any mistakes plz </3

p.s, I'm taking suggestions for any headcannons/drabbles/mini fics so if you have any ideaaaaaas... 😏

Series taglist:

@sikuthealien @morganalatina21 @bleedingwhiteroses222 @johnnysilverhandeeznuts

[soul-of-the-sanada]

Obey Me - roadtrips

I was stuck in the car for 9 hours driving from Louisiana to Tennessee and I started thinking about the brothers from Obey Me and roadtrips. So here are a few hcs I came up with during my time hanging out in the passenger seat.

Lucifer- always the driver. Doesn't need the GPS bc he memorized the directions. He's just that good. Unless specifically requested, he's not playing any music. Completely dead silent like a psychopath. MC really has to beg for him to relent and when he does, it's going to be something soft and chill. Doesn't care for road trip games, but will begrudgingly play along if asked by mc. No stopping unless it's on his itinerary or someone Really has to go to the bathroom.  His number one road trip need is company, he hates to go alone.

Mammon-loves to drive, but doesn't have to. He likes having energy drinks readily available, especially for long trips. Expects his shotgun to navigate. Likes high energy, bass heavy music,something that really gets him going. Gets too distracted for road trip games. Wants to make a million sidestops. His number one road trip need is music, he can't stand the silence.

Leviathan- 100% passenger princess. Cannot be depended on for navigation. He's usually got his head buried in a handheld game or manga. If he gets to pick the music, it's his weeb shit. He doesn't care about side stops, he's barely paying attention. If he had his way, he'd still be at home, buried alive in his room. His number one road trip need is simply to be left alone until he gets where he's going.

Satan- he doesn't mind driving, but he'd rather shotgun. He's got GPS running nonstop because he doesn't trust anyone else to navigate (unless it's lucifer, but he'd rather it be ANYONE else with him). He would like to listen to classical music while driving, or an audio book if he can. He's too busy following the GPS to stop anywhere. His number one road trip need is no traffic.

Asmo- not even a passenger princess. They're sprawled in the backseat taking up as much room as they can, whether it's the or their stuff spread everywhere. Probably livestreaming the entire time (how many times can we do x before y loses their shit and turns this car around?). Definitely did a 'get ready with me/us' and bugged their brothers to share tips and tricks for road trip travel with the camera. Pop music blaring. Only wants to stop if it's for something trendy or they really need to pee. Their number one road trip need is an audience, whether it be in the car or online

Beel- he's more comfortable driving. Makes him feel useful. Definitely depends on someone to navigate for him. He will let anyone pick the music, I think his prefernce would be nu metal or hard rock, something with growly vocals. He'll stop whenever he feels like someone needs to stretch or they might be feeling even the tiniest bit hungry or thirsty. You don't even have to ask. His number one road trip need is snacks.

Belphie-definitely asleep in the backseat. Absolutely no help with navigation but also isn't the one who's going to ask to stop 1837373 times because... He's asleep. Might wake up if there's a traffic jam, but he's just gonna look around, realize he's definitely not made it to his destination and then he's out again. If he absolutely had to be involved, he's going to complain the entire time. his number one road trip need is an empty backseat to stretch out on as much as possible.

[hiyori-ii]

This is All Your Fault!

Pairing: Gojo x Reader

Word Count: 2,172

Tags: fem!reader, intercrural sex, dry humping, semi-public sex, being stuck in a small space together, gojo and reader are in their early-ish 20s, gojo himself really deserves a disclaimer lol

a03 link

Author's Note: By popular demand (180+ votes) I give you Gojo in all his glory <33 Sanji is next, I promise. :P

This is so not happening right now. 

Satoru laughs quietly to himself, watching as your face pinches in barely concealed rage. 

"Shut up, Satoru, this isn't funny."

"Oh, I beg to differ princess - this is hilarious."

You huff sharply and make sure to elbow him as you twist back around to listen for any movement on the other side of what must be the world's tiniest closet.

Like always, Satoru has gotten himself into trouble. And like always, he has somehow managed to wrap you up into it too. 

You hear footsteps round the corner and oh, that's Principle Yaga, no wonder he pulled you in here so suddenly. 

"What did you do this time you idiot?"

You hear him gasp behind you, "You wound me, princess! Why would you assume I've done something wrong?.”

You take a moment to collect yourself before looking back at him over your shoulder, "Oh I don't know, maybe because all you do is get into trouble?"

He can't keep the betrayed look on his face, pearly white teeth splitting his handsome face as he grins down at you. 

"I may have borrowed some important documents from Yaga's office."

Your eyes flutter closed and your shoulders sag as you begin to piece the situation together, "For christ's sake, Satoru, what is wrong with you?"

He reaches one hand down from where his palms are pressed against the door and pinches your side, making you jump back against his chest, "Don't be like that, I'm gonna give them back. Just need to buy some time before I return them is all."

You're about to open your mouth to give him a piece of your mind when the floorboards creak just outside your hiding spot.

'I should just open the door and let Yaga-sensei at him', you think to yourself. But before you can even lift a hand, Satoru has grabbed you by the wrist, his other hand coming across your mouth to make sure you don't rat him out. 

His breath tickles the back of your neck as he leans forward to whisper in your ear, "Come on, Y/N. Don't give me up now."

A chill races down your spine and you shiver against his body, blushing at the way he looms over you. 

"I promise I won't keep getting you involved if you just stay quiet for me this one time."

For fuck's sake. 

Satoru knows he's won when the tension in your body settles. His hand falls away from your mouth and comes to wrap around your waist, keeping you snug against him. 

Your heart flutters in your chest when you hear a second set of footsteps approach, Yaga calling out to greet them.

Great, more company, exactly what you two need right now. 

You're trying to pay attention to what they're discussing but Satoru has taken to squeezing your waist and it's starting to get distracting.

"Oi, Satoru, stop that, I can't concentrate with you treating me like a stress ball."

His squeezing stops and there's half a moment of silence before you hear him laugh to himself, "Sorry, princess - didn’t know you were ticklish.”

“I am not ticklish, thank you very much. I just don’t like being squeezed and prodded at while I’m trying to keep you out of trouble!”

Despite your instance, his hands slide up your waist and give an experimental squeeze that sends you careening forward, hips pushing back into him to get away from the sensation. 

“Ah! S-Satoru quit it! I’m serious!” Your breathing stutters and you twist side to side in his grip to escape the torture. 

His quiet laughter has stilled and his grip loosens on your sides allowing you to catch your breath long enough to spit back at him, “What the hell is wrong with you?! First you nearly gag me to keep quiet and now you’re threatening to tickle me! Pick one or the other, do you or do you not want to be caught?!”

A few seconds pass and he doesn’t respond. You can feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration. You straighten up and look over your shoulder, ready to rip him a new one but what you see steals the words right from you. 

Satoru has gone shock-still, pretty eyes wide and face a beautiful red. 

Your anger fizzles away and you soften your tone, “Hey, are you okay?”

He blinks and glances down to meet your eyes, “H-huh?”

“I said are you okay? You look like you’re gonna explode.”

Somehow, the blush on his face darkens, slipping below his collar, “Yeah, y-yeah, I’m completely fine. Sorry, I’ll behave myself.”

Well that doesn't sound like the Satoru you know, “You? Behave yourself? Nice try. Seriously, what’s the matter?”

The person talking with Yaga suddenly leans against the closet door, rattling it in its frame. The noise startles you and you to jerk back against Satoru’s chest, your hand reaching back to stabilize yourself.

As you open your mouth to apologize for bumping into him, Satoru lets out an almost inaudible noise.

You must be hearing things. There’s absolutely no way he just moaned. 

The hand you threw back to balance yourself with flexes, digging into the meat of his hip and he jerks forward, “A-agh!”

Oh.

Oh he’s hard. 

“S-satoru, are you serious right now?!” You can barely breathe with the feel of his cock pressed against you.

He drops his forehead to your shoulder, laboured breath ghosting over your exposed collar, “I’m sorry - you just, you’re so close and it’s my fault for making you squirm but you just feel so good.”

You think you must be on fire. Your skin feels like it’s burning from where his lips sit just above your shoulder, sweat beginning to form as your body temperature sky-rockets at his confession. 

You and Satoru have always been close, but never this close. 

“I-it’s fine, just keep still and we’ll be out of here soon. It sounds like they’re almost done talking,” your grip on his hip begins to slip and more of your body weight shifts back into him. 

“Oh fuck, Y/N, you gotta stop moving!” 

“I’m sorry! My grip is slipping!”

“Shit, okay, hangon, I’m gonna adjust us, okay?”

You feel his hands tighten around your waist and you barely contain a whimper as he easily lifts your weight off him, allowing you to stand up straight again. 

But as if the gods themselves were laughing down at you, you hear Yaga and his company shift their conversation to something more personal, his mission to track down Satoru clearly on hold. 

You want to scream. 

You need to get out of here now so you can clear your head and approach this rationally. 

Behind you, Satoru is suspiciously quiet. You can’t blame him though, the entire situation has you feeling like you’re going insane.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

“I’m not upset, just so you know.”

You aren’t leaning against him anymore but your back is still lightly pressed to his chest and you can feel the inhale he takes, “Hah, well, thanks princess.”

A rush of heat settles between your legs at the nickname. Oh that’s not good. 

You slump forward letting your hands catch your weight on your knees, the situation finally starting to take it’s toll on you. You glance over your shoulder to sneak a peak, hoping that Satoru will ground you, but what you see instead lights an inferno inside of you. 

Satoru’s head has fallen back against the shelf behind him, his face still flushed with heat, brilliant eyes squeezed shut as he attempts to calm himself down. 

You can’t help but stare. You’ve always known Satoru was beautiful, you’d be crazy to not see it. But it’s never been more than that - just a simple fact of life. Now though, now it’s impossible to ignore. Now that you’ve felt the swell of his cock pressed tight against your ass, now that you know what he sounds like - looks like - when he feels the pull of arousal. 

Ever so subtly, you push your hips back against his and grind against the zipper of his tight jeans. 

As if struck by lightening, Satoru’s head snaps down to stare at you in shock, “W-agh-what are you doing, Y/N?!”

What are you doing? 

You don’t bother answering him before you roll your hips again.

He feels so good like this. You need more. 

You straighten up and lean back against him, feeling blindly for his right hand. When you find it, you can feel him trembling ever so slightly in your grip, “Is this okay?”

He nods before realizing you can’t see him, “Yeah, this is okay”

You respond by guiding his hand between your legs, letting him feel the wetness that has accumulated already. 

“Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

Your face lights up in embarrassment, “Shut up! It’s your fault!”

Satoru can’t help but grin at that, the fog of arousal lifting long enough for him to catalogue that he'll be using that against you later. 

Before he can say something stupid, you guide his fingers under the hem of your skirt and through the leg of your underwear so he can touch you directly.

The sharp inhale behind you lets you know that you’ve effectively shut him up for now and you take the opportunity to grind your clit against the pad of his two fingers.

It takes him a second to get the idea, but then he starts to draw tight circles against you, pulling a pleased whine from your throat.

“S-satoru, let me hel- let me help you too,” you hiccup, tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes. 

You can feel the moan he lets out rumble in his chest. 

Without answering he pulls his eager hips back just enough to let him wrestle his belt buckle open, almost tearing the zipper in his haste to free his cock.

He’s mumbling something to himself when you feel the head of his cock bump against the back of your thigh, “-retty, so pretty.”

You’re starting to get impatient, your cunt throbbing without his hand there to ease the pressure, “Hurry up, need you”

“Shit okay, sorry.”

You can feel him lift your skirt up over your ass and shiver at the implication.

Satoru pats the side of your hip, his voice strained, “Stand with your feet together for me, okay?”

You wordlessly nod and pull your feet together, keeping your back tight against his chest. As your thighs come together, the pressure on your pussy increases and you squirm at the feeling. Behind you, Satoru had reached down to guide his cock between your thighs, wedging himself tight against your throbbing cunt. The slick leaking from you starts to coat his cock and with a gentle thrust he slides forward until his hips tap your ass. 

“Ha-ah, fuck, feels so good, princess. Can’t help myself, you're just so pretty.”

His voice has started to pitch in desperation and you can feel yourself getting lost in the feeling too. 

“Come on Satoru, show me how much you like this.”

He thinks you might just kill him. 

Without hesitating, he pulls his hips back just far enough so that only the head of his cock is still tucked between your slippery thighs. He gives one shallow thrust before pushing all the way forward, catching the hood of your clit on the way back. 

You groan as he starts to pick up the pace and you let your head loll back against his shoulder so you can watch his face as he fucks your thighs. 

His gaze is glued to the spot between your legs where the tip of his cock peeks out with each thrust, mesmerized by the fact that this is even real.

Your voice suddenly cuts through his daze, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Satoru don’t stop!”

Yeah, yes. He can do that. 

He reaches up and catches your chin in his hold, tilting your face towards his, watching for any sign of rejection before leaning down to kiss you. 

It’s suddenly all too much and your mouth falls open as your orgasm rips through you.

Your pretty moans are what finally set Satoru off and he can’t hold back anymore. He curls over you, forcing you to fold forward as he cums all over the door in front of you, some spilling onto your bare legs. 

A few seconds pass as you both catch your breath before you simultaniously break out into laughter. 

“We need to talk about this when we get out of here,” you start.

“You’re right,” he nods solemnly, “we really need to talk about how wet I make you.”

Your elbow connects with his ribs sharply and he barks out another laugh. 

Before you can give him a piece of your mind you hear two short knocks on the closet door, his laughter falling silent immediately. 

“Y/N, Satoru, I believe we need to have a word.”

Oh shit.

[atlantis-is-burning]

Dead Boy Detectives Cancelation

So in light of the heartbreaking news of Dead Boy Detectives getting canceled, I decided to write a letter to @netflix It's the first time I've ever felt compelled to reach out to a major company regarding their services but I wanted them to know how much the show means to us as fans and what they're taking away from us by canceling it.

For me, the show was a literal life-saver. Without going into too much detail, I was in a very dark place prior to its release and it was the only thing that helped me through it. That and meeting all of you =)

I don't know what impact it will have, if any, but if you would like to write a letter to Netflix as well letting them know what the show meant to you, I would definitely do so. Our community may be small compared to other fandoms but we are passionate and devoted to this show and they deserve to hear from us.

I've attached the letter below the cut for anyone who would like to read it and believe me, I'm not trying to medal in the tragedy Olympics with the intro, it's just a fact of what happened.

Maybe the show helped you in ways you couldn't imagine. Maybe it made you feel better about yourself or something that occurred in the past. Maybe it was just a fun comfort show for you that you really enjoyed. Whatever the reason, this show brought out the best in people and made the world feel just a little bit kinder for a while and I will never forgive Netflix for taking that away.

To whom it may concern,

On April 29th, I sat down and watched the first episode of the Dead Boy Detectives. 

I had heard good things about the show since its release a few days earlier, that it was fun and campy and easy to watch, but for me I was hoping it would be a distraction. A very close friend of mine passed away without warning on December 30th; she was just there one day and gone the next. The first half of the year was spent helping her family get her affairs in order while trying to process our shared grief and figure out how we could move on without her. 

I didn’t begin to feel like myself again until late March and by then it was only a fraction of who I had been before her passing. So when I sat down and pulled up the first episode of the Dead Boy Detectives, the only goal I had in mind was to pass a few hours watching a silly supernatural mystery show and think about something other than this sense of loss and imbalance that had settled over me.

It was the first time I smiled in nearly three weeks and it was the first time I laughed since December.

I watched the entire series, start to finish, in one night. Then I went back and watched it again the next day. And again a few days later. And for the first time since her passing, I felt like my friend was still there somehow, like we were watching it together. It was exactly the kind of show she would have loved when she was alive, flamboyant and silly with a touch of romance and mystery, so on my fourth rewatch of it, I sat on my couch with a picture of the two of us cradled in my lap, watching a show I know she would have enjoyed and feeling just the tiniest bit of my grief fade.

It was through the Dead Boy Detectives that I found a community online, a group of people who loved the show just as much as I did. We traded theories and ideas about the episodes, we excitedly welcomed new members who had just finished it and encouraged others to watch it in the meantime. We set up forums and threads on Reddit, we messaged each other, we embraced this silly, quirky show so much that it became a safe haven for a lot of us, it became a comfort series. We saw ourselves in this show and these characters and for many of us it gave us a sense of fellowship and belonging in a world where that feels more rare by the day.

And then it got canceled and for many of us, it felt like a slap in the face for the fans.

While I don’t claim to know the metrics on which a show’s success and renewal odds are based or what formula is used to determine ratings, I do know you didn’t see the fandom we created for ourselves because of this show. 

There are artists who make the most breathtaking art pieces you’ve ever seen, writers who bring you to tears with their works, and creators who painstakingly and lovingly created playlists and mood boards for each of the characters, matching them with songs and snippets of poetry that fit so perfectly it felt like it was made for them. There are fans who cosplay so well it looks like they borrowed the costumes directly from the production team and some who make jewelry and charms and trinkets that sell out almost before they complete them.

We engaged with the stars as well, wanting them to know how much we loved the show and these characters and how grateful we were to have watched them. We set up Q&As and asked them questions through Cameo, all the while thanking them for their work in bringing these characters to life. This show meant so much to us and we wanted them to know just what an impact they had had on more people than they ever could have imagined.

We were well aware of Netflix’s reputation of canceling shows based on poor viewership so we went in and organized weekly watch parties in an effort to increase the number of new viewers. We promoted it on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram, creators made videos for it on TikTok, and we created an entirely new tag on social media to bring more attention to this show we all loved so much.

Early on, there were several comments from people who said they were hesitant to even watch it; they had been burned before and didn’t want to get deeply involved with a new show that would turn into yet another “one season wonder.” We did our best to reassure them and convince them that this time it would be different; it wouldn’t be like all the shows that had been cut down before it could ever really develop. Since it was tied in with DC and The Sandman Universe, we promised them that maybe this time we could save it, maybe this time it would be enough.

And it was still canceled.

On Friday, August 30th, ten minutes after the news broke that Dead Boy Detectives had been canceled, I canceled my Netflix subscription. Netflix was the first streaming service I ever signed up for and today it is the only streaming service I have ever canceled. And, after watching the fallout in our little online community, watching the actual grief people were experiencing because of the cancellation, and scrolling through pages upon pages of outraged fans who swore they would never watch another program on Netflix and vowed to cancel their subscription that day, I can see that my decision was justified.

You have no idea the impact this show had on its viewers and you have no idea the impact you had when you took it away. We had people admit that the show helped them come to terms with their sexuality, helped them process deep-seated trauma, helped them love and accept themselves for who they were. We knew the Dead Boy Detectives would never be a runaway hit like Stranger Things or Bridgerton but we hoped and prayed that it would stick around just a little while longer, that we could enjoy these characters and their stories for even one more season before they were gone for good. 

For you it may have been just a silly little ghost show that was little more than a blip on the radar but for a lot of us it was so much more than that, it meant so much more than that.

I am under no illusions that this email will make a difference or that it will bring the show back from cancellation but I wanted you to know what an incredible and amazingly talented fandom you are leaving behind in its wake. These are people who put their heart and soul into the art they create and the words they put on paper and all we wanted was a chance to see that continue.

We are tired of being drawn into a program and falling in love with the characters with no guarantee that our viewership and involvement actually means anything. We are tired of begging for complex characters and the representation we crave in media only to have the rug jerked out from under us once we finally get it. We are tired of hoping and praying and campaigning to save a show that should easily be renewed for several seasons or, at the very least, a season two. 

We are tired of feeling like we’re being taken advantage of as fans, that the passion and excitement we have toward these shows and their stars, the kind of involvement you claim to want, is dismissed with little regard toward the fans of the show itself.

We are your audience and we are tired.

We will continue to love and cherish this show and these characters, without your involvement, and give them a much longer life than they ever had on your platform. This show, the cast and crew, and the fans deserve better than what you gave them and I hope you understand the tremendous amount of talent and passion you’re throwing away in your fan base.

With regards,

-M

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #27

The Battle of Big Wand

Part 2 of reacting to this episode (spoiler-free)!

Cosmo talking about the Big Wand going down: Better check with I.T. Hazel: Just I.T.? No fancy fairy name?

why is this so funny to me

Y'know... I've have a post in my drafts for ages that mocks Anti-Cosmo's castle entrance for not being wheelchair-friendly (because the road is covered in spikes). If he took over and then put spikes on this new road, I'm gonna lose it.

OH, I NAILED my "After thinking about it, this is my final answer" prediction. Dev is in the house! oh, good gravy.

This is the second time he's tried to be a king, and I think it's funny he hasn't tried to be a company president or anything. Not fantasy enough for him.

It's stupid funny to me that Dev just turned 10 and he's got impressive muscles when he flexes. what is this child doing- bench pressing solid gold??

We've been robbed of Dev wishing himself into one of the puzzle games he likes and getting buried under, like... Tetris blocks and having to claw his way out.

That might make a good 'fic; I feel like "wishing to be inside an app" is very correct for him.

??? whaaat does he have? He's got portable wishes of some kind? Is it a shooting star? oh, goodness. Let me think, let me think...

!! Crocker has these in the finale of Jimmy Timmy Power Hour 1. He throws them at the ground near fairy guards to poof them into animals. They're grenades. lmao, Dev got into the Fairy Armory.

Canonically, the Fairy Armory is the only place in Fairy World that still has power during outages, so... epic magic fight with weapons?? Ooooh, I hope so!

Irep is back, I knew it!! Part of me suspected he wouldn't be here because he's not really known for being a team player, but I'm glad he is :) Let's go Anti-Fairies!!

I'm delighted Anti-Cosmo isn't taking lead. Also, for some reason it's hilarious to me that Irep is focused on Hazel and not interested in addressing Cosmo or Wanda. He used to greet them as Auntie and Uncle, and now he's like "I don't need their approval or love."

Uh-oh... Has he sorted out his needy issues? If he's too old for naps and we can't bribe him with hugs, how will we defeat him??

I wanted to see if he uses their honoraries in "Fairly Odd Fairy Tales" (since he does it when he's being polite and I knew he was offering food). He doesn't, but I like how Wanda straight-up fed her nephew an apple that puts him to sleep until his true love kisses him, then looks dead at the viewer and says "And then we all lived happily ever after." Is the implication that no one will ever love him, so he's unconscious forever?? omg. Wanda's very black and white view of things is so incredibly funny to me, especially since she grew up in a mob family.

I'm excited to see Dev and the Anti-Fairies. Who would win: the species that invented papercuts, or a little boy who longs for lemonade?

Are you telling me Cosmo and Anti-Cosmo are BOTH intimidated by Irep now? Either this is about to be super funny, or they've switched.

Did Anti-Cosmo finally step up his parenting? Not out of the question; in Season 10, Foop was in time-out for putting spiders in his spaghetti.

(How ironic, considering Foop liked eating spiders).

I rewound and Cosmo jumps when the magic hits, before he sees Irep, so he's not necessarily afraid of him. Also, keeping my fingers crossed for anti-family interactions. I'm really looking forward to a face-off between Irep and Peri; their banter is my favorite and we didn't get much in "Best of Luck."

I'm so glad that despite changing his name, Irep presents himself with the same flair he always did. He is the same person...

omg, his little cufflinks. He's adorable.

For some reason, I've called him "posh British boy" in two previous posts, but... idk why, because he's literally never been posh and I know that. I'm glad he looks like his aesthetic is "bad boy with the tiniest detail of fancy."

I hope he's still friends with Sammy Sweetsparkle :) Maybe they're in a gang. I know there's 0 chance of Sammy being in this episode, but can you just imagine if Foop took out his wallet and there's a picture of Sammy in it.

Actually... if he's got a little metal circle there, I think that implies his jacket is closer to denim than leather. Lemme check......

OH, interesting... Yeah, he and Sammy don't match.

I don't say it enough, but it's really freakin' funny to me that Foop spends a distressing amount of "Certifiable Super Sitter" following Sammy or spying on Sammy and/or reacting to everything Sammy says. He's just Like That... Like, I enjoy the implication that of all the places Foop could go when his parents canonically left him unsupervised for the week, he likely chose to hit up the Turner place in spite of his hatred for Poof because Sammy is there. Silly.

Anyway...

Dev: Yeah, yeah, yeah... and Irep. Joint conquerors of Fairy World.

OMFG, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Was I RIGHT that Anti-Cosmo isn't even at the takeover!? Local introvert hates leaving his house and never wanted Fairy World anyway; more at 11. I'll be there!!

Plot twist, Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda don't actually show up in this episode because they're busy flirting while Irep's away.

I clocked the design aesthetic of the taken-over Fairy World as "This is Irep and Dev as partners; Anti-Cosmo wouldn't do this" so hard. crying. how did I do that. it's not getting better than this.

"Let's get DEV-ious!!"

dlkfgm, once again losing it at Dev using his first name rather than the "Dimm" part of his surname when he makes puns. He's a Dimmadome, but... he's kind of his own twig on the tree.

It is unreasonably funny to me that Irep's wand is so heavy considering he had massive muscles as a child after his Abracatraz imprisonment ("Spellementary School" & "Timmy's Secret Wish").

Also, I am FASCINATED by the decision to give Irep one little zipper tab that hangs off his jacket. Impeccable.

I love this team already. These are two people who are both known for:

- Coming from upper class families - Having parent-related abandonment issues - Not showing a lot of restraint - Only showing restraint when they've REALLY gone too far

Hmm... Oh boy, let me think. We know Dev's [previous] line was that he didn't like his dad shocking people's brains for money, with Dev having strained feelings even when he was trying to convince himself the shocks could be good ("You can help kids!") And he did feel bad about fighting with Hazel, though he's definitely Going Through the Wringer right now.

And Irep's line in the OG series is that he was totally down for:

- Tormenting his parents - Annihilating Crocker for not inviting him to his house party (whom he hilariously calls Denzel when he's mad at him) - Pointing his school's playground slide into the void - Sending Cosmo and Wanda on a dinner date to a black hole - Poof dying (despite the fact their lives were tied together)

- but he wouldn't allow anyone to harm Chloe, who finally introduced him to hugs.

He made it very clear he wasn't willing to face Vicky to save his own life, even on the verge of death, but he'd do it for her or for chicken cordon bleu. And she's not here, and we're all out of chicken cordon bleu. Uh-oh…

- Would Irep rate Hazel hugs 10/10? Inquiring minds need to know. - Is Dev bribing Irep with hugs? Or is Irep just here for the chaos and assurances that Dev's having more fun with him than Peri? - Is Irep bribing Dev with hugs? Are they pumping each other up with positive affirmations?? Go king; continue the healing cycle!

If Irep's parents show up, I hope he's on good terms with his mom, who used to pack chicken nuggets and anti-venom in his lunch box :)

Dev's faith in his ability to not fall off his O-pairs makes me nervous every time he's ever been onscreen.

His dad might let him down, but the O-pairs never have.

[ cnt'd - #Long post ]

All I've been thinking about for ages is an AU where Dev and Mikey Munroe (Bunsen Is a Beast) switch drones for a day, so Mikey's parents freak out that they can't monitor their son 24/7 and meanwhile, Dev just... can't get his dad's attention despite the two-way microphone and camera screen. Also, Mikey spends most of his time making noises into the O-pairs' fans. It's always been my headcanon that Mikey's parents installed the Buxaplenty's and Leadly's security systems (hence the buttons releasing different dogs & the lethal lightning bolts) since I think "ooh, rich people want us" helps justify why his parents are gone for months or years at a time when we know their job is designing home security, so basically... all the cool rich people use them. I actually have a WIP of Mikey and Remy playing near the Buxaplenty train tracks when they were little, but I never found a plot point strong enough to carry it to the end. Anyway, I've been waiting to see what the Dimmadomes have in terms of security, but it's... nothing yet. Plot twist, Dale has trust issues even with the people installing security?? ... I think he'd be friends with Mikey's parents. Maybe. Actually, I might need a 'fic about Dale having a meltdown when he goes home for the first time in 7 years and doesn't trust that Vicky won't sneak in to get him. He needs the world's best security team. It's two terrible parents afraid of literally everything. Yes, they ditched their kid for this. Don't worry about it. y'know... It's really messed up that Mikey's parents are terrified of everything, but they leave their 12-year-old home alone with the pets for months or years at a time, "but it's fine because they're spying on him 24/7 and sometimes give him gifts (like medicated wipes)." His dad is implied to have a fear of germs and I've always wondered if that plays into them not being anywhere near Mikey... Plot twist- We pull a "My Gym Partner's a Monkey" (where the reason we don't see Adam Lyon's parents is because they're severely allergic to animal hair and Adam has to thoroughly wash when he's home and they can't go to school events), but it's Mikey's parents fleeing Muckledunk because they're either allergic or afraid of Beasts. They left their son... Okay, I just checked my notes and I have a line here that says "Mikey's obsession with soft things like animals, beards, and blankets is probably because his parents never touch him." help??

Anyway, I think an AU where Dale hovers over Dev 24/7 and is still a terrible dad would be funny. Instead of neglect, it's obsession... Especially at this age since Dev's as old as Dale was when his trauma started.

... Is Dale putting distance between himself and Dev on purpose because Dev looks exactly like him and is now the age when Dale's life came crashing down? idk if Dale had access to mirrors back then, but that's gotta be weird.

crying at Irep waiting for his cue to pull Dev's flashbacks down from the top of the screen. They rehearsed this. Painfully in-character (In "Secret Wish," Foop claims he waited 10 minutes outside so he could burst in at a dramatic moment).

The way Irep twists his legs gives me Anti-Cosmo vibes.

Rare "Winn without cap" spotted in the wild.

Dev has the room oriented the wrong direction and in doing so, he forgot to include the door. Emotionally, he's stuck in this room. lmao.

Maybe it's a class that's not Guzman's since we know from "Multiverse of Jenkins" that these kids do attend other classes. But... Dev, what's goin' on, buddy?

INCREDIBLY funny to me that Bev sits directly in front of Dev? I gotta go back and fact-check that sometime. Has he been harboring his crush on her because she's right there? That's great!

??? If she DOESN'T sit there then I have to assume Dev is just so Bev-centric that he WANTS her to be there, and that's very funny. Go chase your sporty crush, rich boy. I support you.

Okay, I went back, and it seems his canon seat is between Bev and Kev (with Kev behind Hazel), but Kev vaporizes when we need to center Hazel and Dev onscreen at the same time (such as Dev faking sick and Hazel glaring at him). Oh my glob, he's another witch... Dev, embrace your ancestral witch-hunting for me, plz and ty. It would be funny... /checks my witch notes as a joke and screeches to a halt. Oh my goodness, I could finally get a Soil Tribe child in my roster... I have their magic down as "causes host to fade unnoticed into the background," and it would be very funny to do something magical with the child model. ??? On my first watch of "28 Puddings Later," I don't think I saw that scene of Dev falling over and losing his shades when the pudding throne collapses. Must've missed it while taking notes. That's cute.

I like how Dev's memories are 2D like the photos we've seen throughout the series. Also, Hazel's so dang cute.

I'm glad Dale's pants look the same in both the New Wish and old 2D style despite no FOP character ever wearing anything with that many dots.

I like that Dev's hair is much shinier than his dad's, implying Dale still has the dullness that comes with being soft instead of slick.

- I'm assuming this means either Dev's hair is gelled or he gets that from the maternal side of his family? - idk man, this is very in line with my "Dev's mom is a Leadly" headcanon... At this point, I can't NOT torment him with two very rich and extremely messed-up sides of his family... They both have extreme branding and weird fixations and funky buildings and run big businesses that have brought in incredible amounts of money and they like tech and call people the wrong names... do you see what I see...

I'm DELIGHTED Dale's hair curls up in the back. I've been so sad that he lost his tuft when he grew up. This is clever.

!!! oh yeah, Dale has his dad's stripe! Technically he and Dev both have the stripe, but I love the subtle differences in their hair. While collecting screenshots for an earlier post, I noticed the hair above their ears is combed in different directions, like this:

- with Dale showing the stripe much more clearly than Dev does. I like the implication that Dev's stripe is gold. That's really cute.

I checked, and the gold streak does seem to be in the place he has the Dimmadome family stripes in his 2D form (Eyebrow level). Neat!!

Aw, Irep's a big boy! And his hair grew out blue!! Parents' genes came out kickin'. I did wonder. I think it's funny his mustache and goatee are still black.

Despite losing the black hair, he's not yet immune from "Irep, are you sure one of your parents wasn't actually pixie?" allegations. This is stupid funny to me... In my Cloudlands AU, the Anti-Fairies are always dunking on him for having black hair like Anti-Cosmo's ex-wife, but no one can say anything because unlike Anti-Cosmo's first heir (Talon), Foop was born with the iris virus (colored eyes), so he's "been accepted by the nature spirits" and is heir apparent.

... Seeing this many colored eyes is giving me incredible amounts of anxiety, but it would not be appropriate to clarify why out of context. I like the guy with hair over his eyes and a big hat.

Is Irep leading the charge these days? Do the Anti-Fairies take orders from him?

Did Anti-Cosmo step down!? Because considering how much he hates conflict, I wouldn't be slightly surprised, omg...

I think it's funny that if Dev uncovers any official documents or watches memory clips that flashback to Irep's past crimes, he'd probably be like "Why is there no paper trail for this Irep guy? who tf is Foop?"

WAS that his experience of browsing the anti-web? I have to assume it was- I can't imagine Anti-Fairy World would cross his path without Foop's name coming up.

?? Considering that in my previous post, I said I couldn't think of any reason for Anti-Cosmo to desire taking over Fairy World unless he managed to score the earth and/or godkids out of it...

I'm so glad Dev just dropped "They have to take over Fairy World so they can rule Earth." slkdfj?? okay...

Irep: Now we can rule BOTH! Anti-Cosmo: That just sounds like scoring godkids with extra work.

THEM!! I am once again so intrigued by the lore that A.J. went into parascience and is following in Crocker's footsteps?? You've no idea how much I need to know what the A.J.-Crocker relationship is.

crying at Irep making a peace sign when he gets in front of the camera with Dev. Doesn't he do that in his profile pic on Dark Laser's phone? He's literally the same person he's always been. I missed him so much.

PLEASE do not tell me Dev's full name is Development "Devin" Dimmadome. The quote marks Dale puts around "Devin" are making me lose it.

Dale's partner: Honey, can you stop thinking about business for 5 minutes so we can pick a name for our son? Dale, who comes from a family that usually just slaps their name on things: I got this.

?? I'd LOVE to know what's going on with Dev's mom. Did she die in childbirth and had no say in naming her son, and Dale took over from there? Is she alive, but divorced from and/or passive around him?

Like... I have to assume she had the most exquisite prenatal care through a rich family like this, especially if we assume she also came from a wealthy family cough- Leadlys.

Holy flipping plot twist, does Dev not have a mom at all? He looks exactly like his extraordinarily wealthy dad. Was he just cloned so Dale could pass the business on someday? Did Dale just kinda buy him and wait for the surrogate to hand him over, and he never formed any attachment to him as a baby because he had the O-Pairs / au pairs raise him? lmao!!!

Traumatized beyond belief for 7 years by a girl his age so he trusts absolutely no one and never learned what a healthy relationship was like even with a partner, let alone his son. smh.

Actually, it's very funny to think of him and Vicky splitting up. Like, it was extremely toxic and not romantic in the slightest, but she straight-up identified him when she saw his face in "Operation: Birthday Takeback" even though logically, that would have been 70 years since she was last close to him. She probably knew him pretty well, especially since his hair has changed.

Timmy can't have frozen the timestream any earlier than Channel Chasers in Season 4 when he learns he'll lose Cosmo, Wanda, and his memories when he grows up, which is the reason he cites for freezing time in "Timmy's Secret Wish," and that was 50+ years. It's been 20 more on top of that for Dale to grow up and his son to turn 10. We know Vicky and Doug Dimmadome very, very occasionally crossed paths in later seasons (Vicky tries to sell him the Stryker Z in Season 3's "Engine Blocked").

If anyone cares, this (Season 3) is presumably where Dale grew up unless Doug took him to Dimmadelphia.

Like?? Something about the fact that Vicky and Dale are the same age is funny as heck to me. New Wish canon heavily implies Vicky's been taking advantage of Dale since they were 9, and they might've been friends once upon a time (despite the fact that in both New Wish and the OG series, she can never remember who the Dimmadomes are, lol).

There's no way Doug did a good job of looking for him, or Vicky would've turned him in for reward money. I wonder if Dale had a history of sneaking off to play with Vicky and just never came home one day.

Do you think that after her bossing him around for 7 years, Dale was really messed up and didn't know how to make choices for himself?

Oh, that's awful!! Who would write a 'fic about him running away to look for Vicky and beg her to take him back because he doesn't know how to be a person anymore and needs schedules and instruction? Who would do that?? I'm fascinated by their dark, twisted, and incredibly under-explained vibe. Haha, I'm in danger...

oh no, and Dev even told us his father relies on algorithms over his own thoughts, and we KNOW Dale was upset his publicity team said he should talk to people face to face instead of sending the O-Pairs or hiding behind holograms... A snarky Dev told us he thinks "talking to people isn't [Dale's] thing..." I'm connecting the dots...

hey wtf. does Dale have issues with scraping by in the dirt and dark with limited food and water and nothing to his name for 7 years and that's why he freaks out when he loses money? He can't handle the thought of not having a house??

Holy flip, I wish he'd communicate his trauma to his son, but I'm yelling that we keep seeing hints that he's withholding things from Dev. Like ?? Dale explains his thoughts all the time (in monologue fashion), but he's clearly keeping some things under wraps since Dev didn't have any concept for who Vicky was or why she knew his dad.

I genuinely think Dale doesn't want Dev to know the details. Dev didn't even seem to have a good grasp of why he isn't allowed lemonade, or at least that was my read considering how grumpy he was about it.

omg, this is horrible. who would write a 'fic about Dale taking his son camping and then slipping off to have a total meltdown where Dev won't see. who would do that.

Like, I think at this point they're so rich, you'd have to assume they're not at risk of losing everything if Dale took time off work, but we KNOW he's stuck on that schedule Vicky raised him with (working on Saturdays, which we see him do multiple times), and we KNOW he's always trying to claw his way up despite having the money to buy literally anything he could ever want.

And we KNOW Dale's big thing is that he loses his entire flippin' mind when the money slows down ("You still making sales?" / "Yes, but they're dropping, Dev!") and he's willing to stalk and hurt people to keep it coming in.

Y'know, this is continuing my theory that Doug Dimmadome is probably dead. I legit think Dale lost his support system (possibly around Dev's birthday considering how clingy he is about boots and says they came into his life on that day, plus the golden boots with the "In honor" plaque he has in his house). Daddy's not bailing him out of this one...

Lovely that Dale's first words to Dev after finding out he's taken over Fairy World are "My son." Oh, NOW he wants to talk...

I also find out my son is working with the fey and immediately drop his full legal name.

Why is Dale both the worst person alive and the only dad ever? I need to flatten him with a cruise liner (carnally).

Happy boy... (Dev, don't trust him.)

omfg, Irep's not buying this for a second.

?? I feel like it makes things WORSE that Dale seems at least a little aware of how upset Dev is about the boots? "I'm so proud of my son; it almost makes me want to throw away my boots." - There's no way he doesn't know he's been screwing with Dev's head for the last 5 months. omg.

- Hey, does Dale treat Dev this way because Doug made Dale feel like he was playing second fiddle to his giant hats?? I can't help but notice this whole city has a hat theme, yet Dale doesn't seem to care for hats at all... which is interesting, because we know Dimmadelphia existed way before Doug got here. Doug in my theory: /died 10 years ago Dale: If I touch Dad's hats or add boot statues around the city, he'll totally kill me. - ?? I guess the alt theory is that Dale put all the hat stuff up as memorials to his dad, which doesn't sound far-fetched since again... he keeps THIS in his house:

... Huh. I guess it could be a trophy for Dale instead of a memorial. That's another relevant time to use "In honor." What does it say about me that "omg his dad is dead and he bronzed his boots as a keepsake" was my first thought when I saw this in "Operation: Birthday Takeback" and not "Dale is successful of his own merit"? Obsessed with the implication that Dev's brand image is his sunglasses... Three Dimmadomes go down in history: The Hat, The Boots, and The Shades.

I still think Dale should have a gun. Not to be helpful; just to keep things spicy...

Please go to the Fairy Armory: the one place in Fairy World that canonically keeps power during blackouts. I am begging. I feel like his Southern daddy would want this for him. Doug had a flamethrower.

Is Dev still holding those magic grenades, and what would happen if someone tackled him in a hug?

SDLJKFSDKLFJSDF I'm on the floor. Did I call it? No way... But is Anti-Cosmo only going to show up now that Dev's giving godkids to Anti-Fairies??

Irep: Yo, I'm going to take over Fairy World; anyone want anything? Anti-Cosmo: The same thing I always want: a new child. Irep: wtf

Oh, all that time I spent speculating instead of actually watching the episode the night I started was so worth it. I was really nervous people would grump at me for how I see Anti-Cosmo, but now I feel like I was set up for a slam dunk.

Also, I like how Dev's taken over Jorgen's office. I didn't notice at first, but that's clever.

Dale is so proud despite the fact Dev taped his mouth shut and tossed him aside. That's so funny...

omg, this pit looks dark.

Will Dev torment his dad with lemonade? Is Dale going into the dark torture pit that swings open from the top like a trapdoor, which parallels his underground trauma to a T, or is that going too far?? Is Dev going to dump on his dad about Vicky? Will Dale freak out when he realizes he accidentally hired his abuser of 7 years to babysit his son? Will Dale be joining Club Redheads Who Didn't Get Mindwiped? (I hope not, because Vicky's in it). Will Dev bully his father while he has all this power and then wipe his mind?? So many questions. Find out next time...

[brighteststar707]

To enter Saeyoung's study is like getting the smallest peek at the inside of his mind. He has never been one to try to put everything in his mind down on paper - it's too vulnerable, you see. It's not as messy as you had expected it to be at first (though it's by no means tidy, though).

Even in its tidiest state, you can spot little details that give you some more insight into his mind and habits: the little cross indentations on the surface of his desk where he absentmindedly dug his nails into the soft give of the wood. The chips in the paint where his box cutter nicked the desk. The overlapping marks of hot mugs placed down without a coaster. The tiniest little mark of your initial on the far corner (that he blushed at the first time you pointed out - a momento from the CCTV days).

This changes the second he takes on a project, especially one of those good ones that you know is going to be a marvel. That's where the corkboard comes in. And the whiteboard. And the wall.

At some point, he seems to have given up on having a dedicated space for his ideas and allowed them to encroach on his space.

When he's in one of these frenzies, you step into the study and find the walls covered in different sticky notes and papers with equations, find the whiteboard covered in diagrams you can't make sense of (and strange annotations to boot). The desk is strewn with more bits of paper and the beginnings of whatever he's trying to build.

Then, once it's all done, the study is restored. The blueprint is made, the doodles and calculations aren't needed anymore. Everything gets tidied and the wall reappears.

You used to spend the early days in there with him most of the time. Either curled up in Vanderwood's chair next to him or tucked up close to him on his lap. You can't count the amount of times you fell asleep to the sounds of him tapping on his computer keys and the soft humming under his breath. They're some of your best memories from that difficult time.

Then, later on, you found yourself bringing your work into the room with you just so you could be busy next to each other. He'd clear a corner of the desk for you and leave you little sticky note messages when you weren't looking.

This habit of yours was what led to him surprising you with your very own desk on the opposite wall of his study - an anniversary present. He still leaves you sticky note love letters and little origami creatures to keep you company. Then, sometimes, for posterity's sake, he'll pull your chair up to his desk so you can relive the old days.

While the room is still mainly his, knowing that he has made space for you in what once used to be his hideout from the world has been one of the best gifts he has given you so far (and he has given you so many).