#because I need him with The Floof and this soft outfit

[faceglitchsworld]

@seohotonin

[syneilesis]

[fic] Pampertime

Pampertime

Love and Deepspace | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x Main-Character!Reader | Explicit | 6.7k words | ao3 link

Butler Rule No. 1: From the moment you accept the role, be prepared to obey your lady’s every command. The bunny butler outfit makes a grand return. In bed.

Content tags: Established Relationship, PWP, Roleplay, Bunny Butler Xavier, Dom/sub elements, Sub!Xavier, Strip Tease, Hand Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Cowgirl Position, Riding, PIV sex, Creampie

A/N: My contribution to the bunny butler Xavier train. Only gave a cursory edit once, so any mistakes still my fault. I'm just glad I'm done, whatever. Divider by @/saradika

One bright and sunny afternoon, Xavier texts you: Emergency can U come up here to help me?

You're in the middle of cleaning your living room, after weeks of neglecting your household responsibilities due to the sudden influx of Wanderers in the neighboring city. The Hunters Association had been scrambling to send out their hunters due to the sudden invasion of Wanderers that resembled bafflingly like corgis—which was both a blessing and a curse, if one were to be asked. Blessing because, well, they were a breed that incited cute aggression and fluffiness, and civilian evacuation had resulted in minimal problems, if one ignores the influx of people into doglike Wanderers. A curse, because—well, they did look like corgis—fluffy like a bread with a cute butt, the kind that you would expect to see in the plushie line sold at Twinkle Toys Store. They're irresistible to drag your hand across their soft coat. A not-inconsiderable number of hunters realized the error of their ways in overlooking the fact that these floof of creatures were still Wanderers, and as a consequence, Linkon hospitals suddenly found themselves busier for a week or two.

Regardless, the corgi Wanderers were easy to take care of, once you saw past their clever ruse. The difficulty lay in the numbers. Like a relentless tsunami flooding the city, they undulate in droves, shaking their butts and bouncing around and generally making an oxymoronically cute menace of themselves.

As one of the hunters dispatched to the area, you valiantly resisted the siren cute-call and eliminated as many as you could. It took you and your team more than a week, and it would have been shorter than that, had Xavier been in the fray. But he had been sent in another region the week before, and was unable to join you in your fluff-filled resistance.

But now it seems that he's back and is in need of your assistance. Flashback to that time when his oven exploded due to his attempt at baking tarts, and you drop everything you're doing and fly outside, towards the elevator, fueled by fear and sheer panic.

When you burst into his apartment, using the spare key he left you, you cry out, “Xavier! Sitrep!”

A cursory survey of the area indicate neither fire nor flood, and his apartment seems undamaged. Fear subsiding, you finally take stock of the situation.

Perhaps it's not a kitchen emergency after all? There’s no smell of something burning, thank heavens for that. You do not want to apologize to his neighbors in his place again.

You call once more, “Xavier?”

“In here.”

His voice is coming from the bedroom, and that makes you waver. Why is he still in his bedroom? Maybe he's stuck in bed? Did he sleep for three days and wake up in an unusual position and in need of assistance to set back his limbs again? Weirder and weirder thoughts spiral in your head, and your lack of response prompts him to speak once more.

“You can go in, if that's what stops you.”

“Why can't you just go out?”

“I ... can't.”

The hesitation captures your attention. Xavier is probably entangled in the bed. You may as well help him.

“All right, I'm coming in then.”

When you open the door, you're expecting some sort of layers and layers of blankets, a sea of them, not just on the bed but also on the floor and other furniture. Xavier might be underneath in any of those blankets, and it's your duty to locate him and fish him out. You're ready to swim against these blankets, fight your way into it. Do your utmost duty as a combat partner.

Except.

Except it's not a sea of blankets that welcome you once you enter the room. It's—different.

So different.

So utterly different that you drop your phone. It clatters muffled against the carpeted floor, where it slightly nudges a gift-wrapped box. And that gift-wrapped box sits next to another gift-wrapped box, and another. And another. Until you lift your widening gaze to see that Xavier's bedroom is littered with a lot of them. And Xavier—

He's on the bed, all right. But he's—

He grins lightly, leaning back from his sprawled position. The pillows behind him sink under his weight.

“Kjalfjdsj?” you say, eloquently.

“I'm glad you came ...” A pregnant pause, before he drops the bomb. “My lady.”

Your brain short-circuits.

Xavier is sprawled on the bed, bunny ears on his head, waistcoat and tie, and—you just know, you can feel it in your bones—bunny tail on behind. It's exactly what he wore when you had your couple's photos back then. The fact that he's wearing it and, judging by the sudden change of interior design of his room, that he's replicated the decoration of the studio—actually, you don't know what you can glean from those points, because you're too busy picking up the remains of your brain matter to form a coherent thought.

He drops another bomb: “Why are you just standing there, my lady?” he says, and going by the quirk of his lips he knows the effect he has on you. Compared with the first time it happened, the shy reluctance is no longer present. “This bunny butler is ready to serve, just say the word.”

Your brain melts.

“Wha—I mean—um, guh—” You studiously reacquaint yourself with the concept of words. “I just—what is going on?”

Xavier blinks, and the bunny ears on top of his head twitch as if they are truly connected to his head. Your fingers twitch themselves in response, that urge to touch and feel them again.

“I just thought,” he begins, slowly at first as if testing the waters, “that you need to relax and get pampered after that difficult mission you've just had.”

The words percolate in your mind and you scrabble for an appropriate reply to that. To be fair to the man, Xavier is sweet thinking of your well-being like that. Or maybe he's guilty that he wasn't there to help during that corgipocalypse of a week. Regardless of his intent, you have to ask:

“You thought I need to relax and your solution is to dress up as a bunny butler?”

He has the gall to think about it at length. “Yes, my lady.”

You don't miss the way he spreads his legs a little wider at that.

And really—you're only human, with wants and needs and desires. It just so happens that the common denominator of those three aspects point to the ridiculous man before you, in that ridiculous bunny butler getup that you secretly love and hope to see again. Which—yeah, it's definitely the perfect solution.

Stomping your hesitation and pride, you stride towards the bed, and Xavier, watching your every step, reclines further, giving you space for you to place your knee on the soft mattress, between his legs.

The bedfoam dips, and he shifts to avoid sinking down the indent your knee makes. Your other knee follows, and you move towards him until the heat of his inner thighs touch the outer sides of yours.

At the proximity between the two of you, Xavier tips forward, and in spite of your positions he doesn't need to tilt his head much upward to meet your deliberating gaze. An anticipatory sharpness falls on his expression and, oh, you realize, he must've wanted this too.

Which is all that you need to fall into this completely.

And it's a transformation: a reshifting of limbs and the straightening of spine, something like a lock unlatching.

“Mr. Bunny Butler,” you begin, low and relishing and shy of being predatory, “bow your head.”

Xavier's nostrils flare at that. After a couple of seconds he complies, and seeing the sliver of his exposed nape opens something within you.

Against your shoulder the bunny ears snag, their length not allowing to fall along Xavier's pose. You bring one hand up to trace an invisible line across an ear, the fur short and soft. Xavier's quiet beneath you, but you can feel him stiffening at your every move. Braced a little behind his sides, his hands clench tightly.

“Can you feel it?” you ask, pinching the colored tip of the ear, pushing it back to observe its make. It's well-made, and you wonder if this one costs more than you'd expect.

Xavier shakes his head. You want to hear him, however, so you tap the back of his head in warning. He exhales loudly; breathes out, “No ...” and then tacking on: “Master.”

Your eyes narrow in pleasure, the flesh of your cheeks bunching from how wide your smile is. “That's my good bunny,” you praise him, caressing the curve of his head. He shivers—whether from the praise or the touch or both, you don't know.

To see him like this—a formidable hunter with centuries of experience, the force of stars pulsing underneath his skin, ready to rupture at his command—head bent low before you, hands closed in restrained fists, the lines of his body intersecting into a show of surrender. Yielding. It heats the core of your belly and your blood, and you can't help but bite your lip as you savor the image.

Leaning back and sitting on your calves, you catch Xavier's downcast stare. His brows furrowed as if concentrating, and when he notices you trained on him, his eyes do something that reminds you of the existence of the concept of puppy dog eyes.

Every time he does that, you think, you want to gobble him up.

Closing in on his face, you raise your left hand and cradle his jaw, tipping it up, gazes never leaving each other. Then you draw nearer, and nearer, until your lips almost brush against his. The sharp sound of his inhale is deafening in this lack of distance. Your eyes never leave his, but his drop down, nearly crossing, as he's distracted by your lips. His breaths are hot on your skin, and finally you aim at the corner of his mouth, and open your own to say:

“Don't move.”

And then you descend, trailing butterfly kisses along the edge of his lips, his cheek, his temple. Xavier goes spine-rigid at the first contact, forgetting to breathe for a second, before slowly exhaling, as if trying to hold himself together. His brows knit again and his eyes flutter closed, the line of his lips sloping downward.

He's controlling himself. And that delights you so much that you shift to kiss his earlobe and tug it once, then whispering directly to his ear, “That's my obedient bunny. Keep this up and I'll reward you.”

You stop to wait, and when nothing happens, you tug his jaw and take a bite at the shell of his ear—he gasps—and continue:

“What do you say?”

Xavier's shoulders lurch. He breathes once, twice, before answering.

“Thank you, my lady.”

“Good boy.”

The first reward: a kiss on the lips. A quick, initial press before you pry him open with tongue, and he welcomes you eagerly from the way he surges to meet you. The hand on his face holds him back, but his own hands fly to your hips and plant themselves there.

You slap them away, he resists. You break the kiss, and he makes a disappointed sound, chasing you, and then realizes what he's done.

“I'm sorry—my lady,” he stumbles, putting his hands back in their previous position. He looks so properly chastised, you love it.

Outwardly, you sigh in disappointment, and he whips his head up, stricken. “After I said that you're obedient, you do this. What shall we do, Mr. Bunny Butler?”

“What—” He swallows. “What do you want me to do, my lady?”

In all the times you've tried to fluster him, Xavier doesn't really redden. At best his skin produces a soft sheen of pink across his cheeks that linger over his ears. Never tomato-red though.

But now, his face glows bright pink that gradiates to a noticeable crimson, ending at the tips of his ears. This is good development, you decide, something that you want more of. So you push further.

“Are you truly sorry, Mr. Bunny Butler?”

He nods meekly.

“Then”—a finger pokes at the center of his forehead and pushes, his head docilely tilting back, exposing his slender, beautiful neck—“don't move this time.”

You slip two fingers under his tie and pull it loose. The unobstructed slide of the silken fabric echoes around the room, punctuated by the hitch of his breath. The bunny ears jerk. To his credit, he's still as a statue, and the giddiness that you've been feeling for a while now mounts to a dull yet insistent ache that pools between your legs.

Then you unbutton his collar, which reveals more of that pretty neck. An alarmed sound forms in his throat, and you call his name in warning. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows whatever he's about to say.

And that Adam's apple becomes your next target: your mouth molds around it, sucking, and Xavier gives a full-body shudder. A groan bursts out of him. He's trembling, his hands—leather-gloved and creaking at the strain of his fists—his thighs, his shoulders. You can see how he wants to turn his head, to retreat from your hot mouth, but thinks himself the better of it.

You place your left hand under his head and kiss him under the angle of his left jaw.

“Ah—”

With your free hand, you trace down the outline of his neck to shoulder. His breath catches, he jolts away, his eyes shoot you a betrayed look.

“My lady—”

You plant another kiss in the dip of his collarbone. “What does Mr. Bunny Butler want?” you ask against his moist skin.

He releases a shuttered exhale. Behind you, his legs move in a way that comes across as avoidant, as if he's hiding something from you. You glance down and realize the reason for his discomfort.

Saliva pools in your mouth.

But you swallow the surging desire ignited by the image of his arousal. It isn't time yet; you want to draw this out as long as you can.

Head still tipped back, Xavier doesn't see your discovery of his want, his eyes half-mast and his focus directed on reining himself in. If you remove yourself from the scene and study him from head to toe, you'd find Xavier the perfect picture of temptation, restrained, controlled on the surface but a collapsing star underneath, gravity pulling you to him and there's no way to escape.

Not that you'd like to escape in the first place.

You repeat your question, this time against his Adam's apple: “What does Mr. Bunny Butler want?”

“My la—” He chokes. Tries again. “Whatever my lady wants.”

Ah. Such a good bunny.

Your hands drift down to the next closed button. His tie is loosened enough that you can remove it in one hard tug. And isn't that a nice thought: one strong pull and he's dragged along by the force, his lips inevitably landing on your lips, a welcome collision.

But you don't follow that path; instead, your hands drop lower, to the last button of his waistcoat. The sides of your hands brush against the seam of his pants, dangerously close to his already obvious bulge, and it dawns on Xavier that you're already aware of his worldly response, if the widening of his eyes is an indication. He whips his head to shoot you a meaningful look, as if begging you to ignore his lapse of control—as if that is an unwelcome development.

Sometimes, you think, Xavier wants to show you a side of him that only exudes assurance, a sharp blade and sturdy shield that envelop you in sidereal protection. Be it from outside forces and his own—and even yours. Physical dangers, most especially, but curiously enough: information. Knowledge. The matters of the past. The matters of the heart. The both of you may have confessed that day, the words of your promises embedded in your heart like an oath under the stars, but there are times when a shadow passes through Xavier's expression, and he seems so far away. Light-years away.

But right now, that thought isn't at the forefront of your mind: it is the way the redness climbs up his neck, his face, his cheeks, painting him a beautiful hue that reminds you of a recently blossomed rose. He truly is gorgeous this way.

One of his hands encloses around yours, stopping your ministrations. Minute tremors hum under his callused palm.

“I'm—” A quick breath. “I'm supposed to serve you, my lady.”

Ah. Truly such a good bunny.

You capitulate, hands retreating from the button of his pants, but not before caressing his trembling hand and squeezing it once. An indulgent smile unfurls in the line of your lips, and you make a snap decision.

The second reward: freedom. Xavier has expressed his desire to serve, to please, and you'll give him the freedom to choose how to enact it—

Under a specific instruction, of course.

“Yes, of course,” you say, tapping his warm cheek fondly with your index finger. “Serve me, then, Mr. Bunny Butler. Strip for me. Slowly.”

He catches that finger quickly with his mouth, bites it lightly, like it's a warning—or a promise. You let him nibble and lick your finger for a couple of seconds, the wetness sending electricity down your spine, and you can't stop the shiver that echoes throughout your body. Xavier narrows his eyes in satisfaction at your response, hints of a smirk around his lips, and that's insubordination if you saw one. So you snatch your finger away from him, and punish him by dragging your wet finger along the column of his neck.

He jumps at the sensation.

“Strip, Xavier,” you repeat firmly. “Make sure it's a good show.”

It just proves how dedicated he is at this roleplay: by this point he should have already ended this little act and would have taken over, but he's holding your critical gaze as his hands settle over the topmost button of his vest.

“I'll try, my lady.” His voice drops to a low, husky murmur, one that summons pinpricks down your nape and the back of your shoulders, crawling in a slow, deliberate tease.

He does try, indeed. He moves back, affording you space to see his torso without having to change your position. One hand to brace his weight, the other deftly maneuvering each button at a comfortable pace. For every button opened, he takes a deep breath, gives you a confident smile, albeit awkward at the edges. But the rhythm of it lulls you, and you find yourself playing with his bunny ears again—a right decision, because he makes a surprised sound, which morphs into a moan.

The returned proximity grants you the ghostly brushes of his knuckles against your clothed stomach when he opens another button. Because of this, the way your stomach contracts every time he brushes you becomes known to him, and Xavier huffs a laugh, and proceeds to be more purposeful with it.

You tug at his bunny ear, hard. “Mr. Bunny Butler,” you warn.

His shrugs his vest off as his reply.

Now, only left with shirt and tie, Xavier stares down at them, thinking about what to do next. You help him by pushing yourself flush against him, making sure that your thigh grazes his cock. He judders, shoving his face on the crook of your neck and groaning. Idly, you continue playing with the furred ears.

“My lady, my lady,” he mutters, and you feel him sighing, “don't tease me.”

You hum. “Then put more effort in your show.”

He peeks up at you under those pretty yet underhanded lashes of his, and you spy hints of a smirk in that mouth.

But before you can question him about it, a hand grabs yours and guides it to his tie, wraps it around the silk fabric, and pulls. Slowly, carefully. From this angle more skin is revealed under your wandering gaze—the tease of a nipple, flashing beneath that white shirt—and you gulp at the flutter in your belly.

Once the necktie is completely off him, he takes it from your hand and, indeed like a show, re-ties it around his neck, a ribboned gift. At this point you're ready to combust—and he's not even naked.

“Do you like it, my lady?”

“Yes,” you rasp, suddenly off-kilter, “very much.”

“Then ...” He resumes undressing, the buttons of his shirt easily extricated, his movements economical, and bit by bit his bare torso opens before your anticipatory eyes.

He stops at the tucked-in part of the shirt. Glances at you, bites his lip, and goes back to pull the front off so the shirt opens just below his shoulders, presenting you such a gorgeous view.

Xavier sinks into the propped-up pillows—and you unconsciously follow—and smiles. “All yours, Master.”

He knows—that little shit—the allure of incomplete nakedness. The gap, the gape, the patches of exposed skin surrounded by fabric. Xavier's using it to his utmost advantage.

By now you could have clawed his clothes away from his body, but somehow, this tastes more delicious, the promise of a tease, the prolonged heat-pulse that thrums in your core, and you're pretty sure, if Xavier's shallow breaths are an indication, that he's into this too.

Well. May as well take advantage of this luxurious present.

One hand descends on the side of his neck, and you see him tamp down the surprised jolt. This hand, light in its touch, ghostly, virtual, traces the edges of the necktie. You can hear Xavier's bated breath, waiting for your next step.

Then down, down, down to his collarbone, the dip of it, your index finger making laps twice, end to end.

Then further: his chest. And this time, it's not only your hand that wants to participate. You brace yourself on his shoulder and bend down to kiss the center of his chest. Xavier lets out a sound, and inhales sharply.

Next: his left nipple, with an additional teasing nip. His hips buck from the sensation.

You stay where you are, lifting your gaze to ascertain his expression. His head is turned away, hiding his face, a hand covering half of it. But it's useless for him to hide, because his ear is in your direct line of vision, and it's a glaring red.

This propels you to indulge more: the hand on his shoulder slides down to pay his other nipple attention. His legs shift, restless. The sounds of his gasps and moans occupy the room. You feast on him, laying your tongue flat on him and dragging it wetly until you hear him stutter your name.

“M-My lady—I—”

You surge forward, and the force topples the stack of pillows behind him. In the midst of this, you reposition your legs so that you're finally straddling Xavier, your skirt bunching up just below your waist, and—teasingly—grind against his straining cock.

He jerks, grabbing at your hips, attempting at more friction, but you remind him who's in charge, and he eventually relents, taking deep breaths to calm himself.

“Sorry about that, my lady. I'm—I'm good now.”

“That's my good bunny.” Then you continue exploring his body with your tongue.

He tastes faintly of sweat but also the scent-taste of his body wash. He's showered just before calling you up. And for some reason, that does you: you rise to kiss him again, and your free hand sneaks itself under him—and grabs his bunny tail.

Xavier yelps, scarlet, shocked at the action, gaping at you and your smug face.

You squeeze the fluffy ball of a tail in response.

“M-My lady...!” he blurts.

“Shame that I didn't get to play with this last time,” you muse, feeling up the soft thing. It twitches under your curious touch. Delighted, you shift around Xavier's torso to lift his hips and study and poke at the tail repeatedly, entranced at the bounce and fuzziness of it. “A wasted opportunity, don't you think so?”

When you check Xavier's reaction, you have to hold back your laugh. He's clearly uncomfortable, but the discomfort is brought upon by embarrassment, as evidenced by his squirming and the persistence of his blush.

Words have left him, so he just averts your leery gaze, bury his face into the nearest pillow, and groans.

Taking pity on him, you release his tail—but not without giving it one last flick; he jolts—and slide your hands around the waistband of his pants. You're fumbling for the button and then the zipper when two gloved hands hinder your actions.

Xavier's face is rearranged into an indulgent yet mischievous smile. “My lady can enjoy me as long as you like. There's no need to hurry.”

But that's the thing, isn't it? You have already enjoyed him so much and enough that at one point things are bound to snap. He as your focal point of your want, the desire that thrums alongside your veins, almost like blood.

“But Mr. Bunny Butler,” you start, adopting a light, airy voice and tilting your head up at him, “there are a lot of things to enjoy from you. I'm not sure if one evening would do.”

Before Xavier can even get a word edgewise, you tear his pants open and yank his boxers down, freeing his cock.

“My la—”

His cock is a firm, solid weight on your hand, and Xavier bucks at the first contact, a halfway gasp ripping out of him. You watch his reactions as you stroke him slowly—painfully slowly, tantalizingly slowly—as your other hand crawl up his waist, flat palm spanning his side.

You know, intellectually and objectively, that Xavier is pretty. Gunmetal-grey hair that shimmers under the starry night sky. His smooth, unlined skin that you're harboring unholy envy for, soft under your curious fingers, almost pristine, untouched all his life. The column of his neck, strong bones underneath the layer of skin and muscle, the prominence of his Adam's apple. The outline of his body—even and proportioned, balanced like a finely crafted sword. And most of all: his eyes, the most expressive part of all of him. The color of an unperturbed sky, always clear and never lost. A steady glister in the darkness.

Right now, though, he's different altogether. Almost otherworldly in the way he's unraveling under your clever fingers. A shift of pressure and he's biting down the meat of his hand in a poor attempt to muffle his groans. A fleeting trail across the slit of his cock and his eyes flutter shut, his hips jumping off the mattress. He thrashes in chase of the pressure and pleasure you're providing him in crumbs, your need to see him lose that frustrating control of his. You keep stroking him and watching him blossom before you, petal by petal, limb by limb, nerve by nerve.

“My lady—” He's panting, running out of breath, his voice gaining that frenzied quality. It's music to your ears. “Master—Master, haa—”

He's coming, you can feel it. You can see it through his quickening breaths, the flush of his skin all over his body, the white-knuckled fist of his hands, the throb of his cock.

“My lady, I'm co—”

You release him, and the slow transformation of his face is such a fascinating phenomenon. From the crunch of pleasure, then crumpling into confusion. He raises his head to see you leaning back, hands away from him, his hazy eyes taking in what's happening—or its lack of. Then they widen, his mouth dropping open to release a sound of distress, round and full and cracking.

“Why did you ...”

You tug at the ends of the ribbon-necktie. He clicks his mouth shut.

“You said I can enjoy you as long as I like. There's no need to hurry.”

His gaze finally clears, and he gulps, nodding. Near your hips, Xavier's cock leaks.

“Then ...” You lay on top of him, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, your belly pressing against his pulsing cock (he freezes at this, and then continues to freeze), and place your arms on the sides of his head so your hands can reach the bunny ears. They still react delightfully under your roaming touch. “I'm going to enjoy these a little more. Don't move too much, okay?”

The room becomes pinched with quiet, and while you're intent on the furry ears atop Xavier's head, you can sense in your periphery his eyes on you. He's careful not to jostle you, the air he breathes catching on your skin, and you feel his arms snaking around your waist, settling on the small of your back.

“You really like the costume that much, huh.”

You hum in acknowledgment, rubbing the area where accessory meets scalp. You scratch it with your light fingernails, and Xavier sighs at the feeling.

When you leave the ears, you turn your attention to Xavier's expression next. He's still observing you, his flush now pale but enduringly distinct across his cheeks, and that entices you to meet his lips in a slow, patient kiss.

“It's nice, seeing you go through such effort to make me happy,” you answer him after you separate, punctuating the statement with a pleased, narrow-eyed smile.

A thought takes over Xavier, with the way his brows knit. Moments pass, you regard him, until he finally opens his mouth to articulate whatever has occupied him.

“My lady,” he begins, hesitant at first, but each word gains confidence, “there's something I want to do for you.”

“Speak.”

“I want you to”—and here his stare morphs into that puppy dog eyes again—“sit on my face. Please.”

You're stunned. The room continues to be quiet, and you're stunned. Xavier doesn't add anything after that; just waiting for your response. He's probably not sensing how you've finally shut down. You, felled by nine words, the last one an imperative period that brooked no refusal.

When he calls you, his face and his voice are tinted with uncertainty.

“Stars, Xavier.” You scramble up to reposition yourselves in accordance to his request. During this transitory moment, Xavier removes his gloves with his teeth. Now bare, both his hands come up to hold your thighs from behind, adjusting their spread and angle. You want to whine self-consciously, but glimpsing Xavier's eager expression as you move towards his head, you stamp that part in your mind. “Okay down there?”

He doesn't reply—instead he just goes for it.

Your hands shoot for the headboard, a surprised cry shocked out of you. Is this Xavier's way of revenge for denying his orgasm earlier? The way he confronts you is not unlike a battle, with his single-minded focus on his goal and his preciseness. He parts your folds with his tongue, pays attention to your clit first: sucks it lightly before dialing it up. You convulse, your hips digging down, and he moans, the vibration thrumming your flesh.

“Xavier,” you sob, “Xavier. Xavier.”

He laps around your clit like a thirsty man, hands kneading your thighs. He must've been thinking about this for a while now, with how methodical he's going by it, strategized to push you into becoming a complete and utter wreck. He kisses your clit then mouths it, moves his tongue in lateral glides that have you thrashing on your position. You grind against him, and he welcomes it wholeheartedly, and behind you his hips thrust helplessly in air, his stubbornly hard cock drooling with pre-come.

One hand nudges you forward and you follow, until his tongue enters inside you—you gasp and shiver at the slick intrusion—drinks you with such loudness that you wouldn't be surprised if his neighbors overhear what the two of you have been doing.

He knows how to prolong the barrage of pleasure, that heat and swell around your core, your undulating hips, sustained until you buckle and collapse from the force of it, your orgasm torrential like a storm.

When Xavier emerges between your legs, his face shines from your slick and his saliva. A fond smile slips out of you, and a finger traces the length of his lips; then your entire hand, cupping the side of his face, a tender caress. A smile of his own appears and he nuzzles your hand, kisses the center of your palm, eyes closed and sated.

“Good boy,” you praise, and he sighs happily. “So good for me. Have to reward you, don't I?”

The third reward: release. You move back to pull his pants and boxers off him completely, and Xavier just watches you with anticipation, breaths in quick bursts.

“You know the drill: don't move.” You underline this order with a tease of his cock, a line-trail from the tip to the base and then a quick squeeze of his balls.

When you align yourself above him and begin to sink down, Xavier goes rigid-stiff, daring not to breathe, careful not to move. You pause from your progress, and send him a worried look.

“Xavier?”

“I—I'm—” He bites his lip, exhales through his nose. “I'm okay, I just. I'm just trying not to react too much.”

“Why?”

He casts you a helpless gaze. “Because, my lady, I'm afraid that my control would slip, and I would have my selfish way with you.”

You falter at that. To be honest that's not such a bad idea at all, but Xavier knows that this is for you and your needs, and what you need right now—and what you want, if one were to ask—is him under you, at your mercy. Just as he is right now.

So you move lower, feeling the head of his cock open you up, slowly. And you can hear the hitching breaths unwittingly made by him, his eyes shut and his whole expression folded inward, as if he couldn't handle the pleasure descending over him.

A groan tumbles out of his lips, low at first, quick and fleeting, but as you inch lower and lower, the feel of his cock molding you inside, the wanton sounds he makes lengthens, gets louder, until he parts those glistening lips and vocalizes his satisfaction.

“My lady—you feel so—”

“Good, I hope.”

He doesn't wait until you bottom out; he bucks his hips to sheathe himself inside you completely in one smooth motion. You cry out from his action, his cock pulsing against your walls, and the feeling of him pulls you in further bliss that your eyes flutter closed and your back arches as the pleasure spreads throughout your body.

“The best, my lady.”

He gasps when you clench around him, your wetness dripping between your joined bodies.

You really think the best position Xavier has ever been is here right now: underneath you, helpless to your demands, seized by pleasure that you're giving him and taking from him. The way his face doesn't know what to do in the undulating waves of pressure as you begin to move above him, your hips lifting and then slamming back down; the film of sweat coating his skin all over, moistening the sheets beneath the two of you. The severe grip of his hands, bunching up the blankets in their deathly clutch. His rapid heartbeat under your palm as you support your weight by bracing yourself on his chest. His moans, his filthy, filthy moans—his moans that you will remember until your dying day because they are so far out of his cultivated normalcy—open-mouthed, slack-jawed moans that come from the core of his abdomen, surging upwards, frantic, crazed, melodiously and sublimely wanton.

“Look at you, Xavier,” you pant, and one of Xavier's legs kicks out. “Look at my bunny butler.”

“Master—Master—”

“What do you want, darling?” you ask, shakily tracing the side of his face. When your fingers near his mouth he turns his head to place a kiss at your fingertips, then drags his tongue out to lick at their length. Your index and middle fingers press flat at his tongue, and he groans around them. His puffs of breath beat in time with the movement of your hips.

One hand crawls towards your thigh, haltingly slides upwards, up to the junction of your hips, where it disappears under the spill of your skirt. Then it reaches behind to squeeze at the meat of your ass, and you gasp, stuttering your pace.

You take out your fingers so he can answer you, but Xavier grabs your wrist with his other hand and brings it back to his lips, trails kisses on each finger, murmurs nonsensical things against your saliva-coated skin until, louder, he tells you—

“Everything you can give me, my lovely Master.”

And, oh, isn't that a wonderful thing to hear? That readiness of his—be it in battle or in bed, he rolls with everything you throw at him, as though there's nothing that can taint you in his eyes, no betrayal to feel forsaken by. As though all that he's done, all that he's doing, is in service to you.

And it's because of this that you use the same hand to cup at his jaw and jerk it in your direction, bowing down to kiss him, bite his lower lip, thrust your tongue inside, lick the roof of his mouth, suck his own tongue—devour him fully and utterly.

He meets your intent with his own, just as intense, just as parched and hungry as you are for him. Every exhale is accompanied by a soft sigh, and you swallow his every sound—that lovely and soothing voice that lingers in your mind and haunts the edges of your dreams. His reaction just drives you to speed up your pace.

He's trembling all over, and tries to shift the angle from which you're riding him. Doing so affords his cock to hit something inside you, lighting up your body, starburst behind your eyelids, and you jolt, a whimper tearing out of your throat that Xavier drinks greedily. His hand on your ass traverses to your clit and plays with it, intensifying the blast of sensations on your lower body.

Obstructed by your mouth, Xavier tries: “My lady, I think—I'm close.”

“Me too, I'm—don't hold back—”

He doesn't. And he doubles his efforts in relentlessly stroking your clit and pounding up inside you, and the pleasure crests and crests and crests until you pulse and clench and come, sobbing at the white-hot crash flooding your nerves, collapsing on top of Xavier, mouths still connected.

And he doesn't stop. This time both his hands bracket your hips; grinds you down as he pushes deeper and deeper inside you. You're oversensitive but you don't stop him, just clinging to him and whimpering, and he begins to assail your ear, his panting tangible and hot against your skin.

“My lady, my lady,” he chants, voice shattering like glass. “My lady—Master—”

His orgasm feels like an echo of your own release, his spend filling inside you. Xavier gives a few more thrusts before slowing down and stopping. A self-satisfied sigh ripples over his relaxed body, and his hands climb to your back, guide you to pillow your head on his chest, embracing you as you melt on top of him.

Minutes pass, and his breathing evens; you expected him to fall asleep after, but when you look up his eyes are emphatically open.

“Aren't you sleeping?”

He glances down at you. Quirks a smile. “No, not yet.”

“Oh ...”

“We're not finished, my lady.”

“Huh?”

“You've had your fill, Master.” He smirks. Then flips you over, reversing your positions so he's now on top of you. He starts unbuttoning your shirt. “Now let me have mine.”

[echthr0s]

Dayir's been isekai'd by the great [LEVIATHAN] into a world where the only war (at present) is Fashion Wars and she gets to stroll about being god's most specialest pretty princess (just like usual, except this time the world isn't also constantly on fire).

Wonderful! No downsides to this at all! ... Wait, what? What's that? Ah, I see. One downside.

The "I was made in a game by an Asian company" effect. I mean, I'm surprised there was more than one skin tone at all (3, total, not counting the default printer-paper one), but at the same time... whoof.

I even loaded her up in Photopea and played around with a soft-light brush and look how much better this is! But... you see... it's cropped like this because once I got to the bangs I realised my mediocre editing skills were not gonna cut it this time.

Well... it is what it is. At least there are extremely fat and fluffy animals to groom (it's a ruse to steal their fur for outfits). And I'll have you know this is not at all a fun diversion from my normal divine madness. All I need is one hook -- one! -- and I will pull Miraland into my unhinged multiversal canon.

Oh, and Zenos is with her, by the way. You just can't see him. He's offscreen being mobbed by a pack of Floofs. Trust me.

[kittensyoonie]

Stray Kids X Male Reader

Chan had been questioning his gender identity for a while. What he didn’t expect, was for you to come home in the middle of him experimenting.

Bang Chan X Male Reader (no agab mentioned but written as if reader is cis)

Requested: no

Warnings: gender identity, finding ones self, questioning gender, (cross dressing but technically not cross dressing), non binary Chan, panic attack, coming out, floof, implied idol Chan, not proof read

Chan had been questioning his gender a lot lately. He knew he wasn’t a girl, but being just a boy didn’t sound right to him either.

When he’d wear crop tops on stage, he felt powerful, comfortable in his own skin. He couldn’t figure it out, what he was feeling. But he knew one thing for sure, he wasn’t a cis male.

He hadn’t told y/n about it, he didn’t wanna burden his boyfriend or upset him somehow. And he didn’t wanna try to explain it when he himself didn’t know.

Okay, so Chan liked he/him pronouns, he knew that for a fact. But they/them sounded nice as well. She/her? Actually yes, but he only liked it sometimes.

After a long research, he realized he was non binary. He thought in all honesty it was pretty cool, and he felt comfortable with that identity.

He wanted to experiment some more though, figure out what he was and wasn’t comfortable with.

Which is how he ended up standing in front of a full length mirror, wearing an almost knee length skirt, and a long sleeve matching crop top.

To say the experiment was a success would be an understatement. He felt beautiful, he loved it, he felt the skirt was a perfect length for him and the material soft.

He didn’t mind how masculine his body looked in the outfit, he didn’t mind not having curves or female anatomy, he felt the outfit still fit him.

However, in the midst of his happiness, Chan failed to hear that y/n had come home. He failed to here him putting his stuff down, or the footsteps leading up to the door.

When he heard the door start to open, he immediately panicked, his breathing picking up as his eyes watered. He was scared, he wasn’t ready.

But there was nothing he could do about it now, as y/n was standing in the door way, his eyes a bit wide as he looked at Chan’s outfit.

Chan didn’t know he was crying until he choked on a sob. Then he realized he was having a panic attack, which wasn’t helping his situation that much.

Y/n walked over to him, gently pushing him to sit on their shared bed. Chan looked at him with wide eyes, he didn’t know what y/n was gonna do.

That was, until he pulled Chan into his chest, resting his ear right against his heart. Y/n ran his fingers through the aussies hair, before kissing his head.

“Baby you don’t have to explain anything to me until you’re ready, alright?” Y/n said softly, and oh, that caused Chan to stop crying, his breathing catching in his throat.

His boyfriend really was the best, in all his panic he forgot, just how beautiful his heart is and how understanding he could be.

Not long after, he was able to calm himself down, his crying dying down to sniffles as he held onto y/ns waist, listening to his heart.

Eventually, y/n pulled away, lifting Chan’s chin before wiping his tears away.

“I came in to ask what you wanted for dinner baby, I was planning on cooking, maybe tteokbokki. How does that sound?” Y/n asked, his tone calm and Chan could even sense patience.

Which he was really grateful for, because he couldn’t get himself to talk, instead nodding to his lovers words.

“Alright, you can stay in here as long as you need okay?” Y/n said, pulling away and making his way to the door. “Oh, and baby? You look absolutely beautiful.”

And with that, he was gone, and Chan was a blushing mess. Even his boyfriend thought his outfit was beautiful.

Chan sat in their room for a bit as y/n made dinner, thinking about it. Maybe he wasn’t ready to tell the world, or even his band mates, but he was ready to tell y/n.

So he changed into a pair of sweats to be more comfortable. He left the crop top on, before making his way to the kitchen.

He saw y/n standing over the stove, and back hugged him.

Y/n immediately smiled, humming softly. He loved being in Chan’s arms, hell even having Chan in his own arms.

“For the last few months, I’ve been thinking about my gender identity, how it didn’t match what I grew up with, that I’m not a cis boy. Up until last week, I didn’t officially know what it was.” Chan explained, while hiding his face in y/ns neck.

And y/n stayed quiet, letting his boyfriend explain, letting him come out.

“I found the term non binary, and I felt like it fit me very much. And I wanted to experiment a bit, figure out my identity some more and what I was comfortable with, thats what you walked in on.”

Y/n smiled softly and turned around in Chan’s hold, cupping both of his cheeks. “I’m really proud of you Channie, for telling me all of this.”

Chan’s eyes watered as he nodded, leaning into his touch.

“What are your pronouns now? So I don’t misgender you?” Y/n asked, caressing one side of his cheeks.

“He/they maybe, sometimes I’m comfortable with she/her.” Chan explained, relaxing by the second.

“Alright, I’ll use he/they by default, but if you feel like a different pronoun or anything let me know okay?” Y/n said, smiling fondly at him.

Chan nodded and hugged him tightly, y/n immediately returning the hug.

“I love you so much Christopher, nothings gonna change that, in the end, you’re still you. Well- more you- but you know what I mean.” Y/n said, giggling at the end, even causing Chan to giggle too.

“I love you too y/n, thank you for loving me through this.” He mumbled, smiling happily. “And I know what you mean.”

“Good, now go sit down, foods almost done.” Y/n said, ushering him to the dining room.

Maybe Chan could do it, tell his friends, his family, maybe he was indeed strong enough, especially with y/n by his side.

(Ngl I was craving tteokbokki while writing this-)

[georgiapeach30513]

Are Beck and Aster having twins??? There’s 5 stars in the mood board, and I remember with Iris there was a comment somewhere about twins not being surprising or something along those lines because she’s a twin

Beck and Aster are having twins. There was five stars on the mood board, and Ellie's outfit also had a five one it. Yes, after the age of thirty your chances of having twins go up, and it's more likely to have multiples if your family has multiples. So I've teased you long enough with those three, let's look at when they find out what their having...and names 🥺

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Something Blue

Summary:  How many?  What’s the names?

Pairings:  Chris Beck X Aster Beck

Rating:  FLOOF

Warnings: minor mentions of jumping on the bed, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  1K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Aster Drysdale Masterlist

“Alright, you know the drill,” Aster jumps up on the table, and looks over at her dad.

“Are you FaceTiming him?” she asks.  Ransom goes to pulling out his phone while the tech readies the wand.  

“Hey, Starlight!  Papa, you need to keep your head way up top, because she’s not far enough along,” Ransom rolls his eyes at the ridiculously cheerful Beck.

“I’ve had more kids than you AstroBoy,” Ransom slumps back in his chair pointing the screen at the monitor.

“Okay, Aster, and...” the tech inserts the wand, and roams, around.  Ransom’s eyes squint at the screen, ultrasounds were never his forte.  “Ah, well...that makes sense.”

“Is that two beans in the sac?” Beck shouts.  “Holy dump wad, that’s...is that?”

Aster grimaces at the tech who starts giggling, “Yes, Dr. Beck, that’s two beans in the sac.  Do you know what that means?” she looks at Aster.  “Twins, but these are identical.”

“There are too many damn twins in this family,” Ransom grumps sitting back.  

“Hey, hey, point the camera at my beautiful wife.  She’s not speaking,” Ransom turns the camera over to her, and Aster is just in shock staring at the monitor.  “I told you it could happen.  Starlight, twins...that’s a buy one get one free deal here.  Wait, root around a bit more, is there more?”

“Beck!” Aster shouts, “No, no more babies.”

“You have said that a lot in your life, Az.  You realize that babies come from jumping on the bed, right?” Ransom gets the biggest smile on his face when Aster turns to look at him.  “Angel, you’re going to be an amazing mother to twins.  You got the best teacher there is.”

“Wait, am I high risk?”

“Not currently.”

“Okay, but you two, we don’t speak of this.  I’m pregnant, but we’re not talking about there being two until they’re named.  I want a surprise.  I don’t know why, because I normally hate surprises.  But I want it right now.  Daddy!” Ransom turns his head away from the monitor again to look at his oldest daughter.  “Mom can’t con you into telling her.  No matter what.  No jumping on the bed, no drinking the milkshake, no bikinis or letterman jackets okay?”

“You’re insulting.  You act like the only thing I think with is my..”

“When it comes to Mrs. D, that’s all you think about Mr. D.”

________________________________________________________________

Aster tries to use Beck’s body as a body pillow, and he turns however which way she wants, but it still isn’t comfortable.  “They’re just always there.”

“Starlight, that’s the point.  My boys have to keep cooking.,” Aster let’s a pitiful but satisfied sigh.  “That’s right, pretty girl, our boys.  Two of them.  You got two penises in you.”

“That was really gross,” Aster giggles slapping playfully at his stomach.  “I look like a balloon, and you’re still rock hard.”

“I mean, not all of me is rock hard,” he gives her a soft kiss to her neck, creating a trail down her chest, “But if you’re in the mood.  I can get that...”

“Ice cream!” Beck’s face falls flat.  “I think there’s some Moose Tracks in the freezer, let’s go,” she struggles to get out of the bed, but is successful, Beck following right behind her.  “Beck?” she asks scooping them both out bowls.  “Have you thought about names?”

“I’ve thought about making you tell me what you wanted to name them.  You did a good job with Eliana.”

“Yeah,” she licks off the ice cream from the scooper long and slow, “but I named her alone.  Mickey didn’t get a say.  I wanna know what you’re thinking.  Ooh, you wanna know what I was thinking?”

“What’s that?” he lifts up the spoon to give her a bite from his bowl, opting to just dump all the ice cream in one bowl.

“Celestial names,” Beck smirks over at her, but doesn’t respond.  “I mean, my name means star, you’ve been in the stars, and on the moon.  Celestial names.”

“Okay, names of stars,” he starts to think.

“No, not names of stars.  Could be constellations, or...”

“Orion,” she gives him a soft smile, taking another slow bite of the ice cream.  “It’s one of my favorite constellations.  Orion.”

“Orion, I like it.  What else you got?  I don’t know space.  I know Chris Beck, but not space.”

Beck laughs and thinks.  “I’m a Taurus,” Aster curls her nose up at him.  “Not Taurus, but...one of the stars in the constellation is Atlas.  He held up...”

“The Earth.  I like that story,” she speaks with a mouth full of ice cream.  “Orion and Atlas.  What about middle names?”

“Gemstones or rocks,” Aster gives him a funny look taking another bite, and slowly pulling out the spoon, savoring the taste.  Beck looks away having to explain himself.  “Yours and Iris’s middle names are gemstones.  So should our twins.”

“Moonbeam,” her voice whines.  “Something blue like your eyes.”

Beck gets out his phone and searches blue gemstones, “Sapphire?” Aster giggles shaking her head no, “Aquamarine?  Tanzanite? Topaz? Cobalt?  Opal?”

“Cobalt.  Cobalt blue!  Ooh um, Atlas Cobalt Beck.  Can I squeeze him?  Now Orion!  He’s gotta have a good strong name.  Something like rock hard...Beck, Stone.  Orion Stone Beck.  My goodness,” she looks down at her belly.  “Please keep cooking, but I want to hold and love on you two right now,” leaning over she takes the last bite of ice cream.  Flipping the spoon over, to slowly drag it over her tongue.

“Well I’m glad we named them.  I’ve been watching you eat ice cream for ten minutes, talking about being rock hard, and have to watch you with that spoon, now look at me.”

“Oh,” Aster’s eyes trail to her husband’s tented sweats.  “If you beat me to the bed room, we can jump on the bed.”

“Az, that’s not a fair wager.  You can’t...” she nods her head, and Beck bolts into the bedroom.  Getting himself ready for his Starlight.

Masterlist

[koumine]

Kou your a professional Obey Me Simp

Ya girl has been trying to find this fic where basically Solomon is a bitch and convinces MC to put a spell on our boy Lucifer so that he'll take a break, turns out the spell turned Lucifer into a horny cat boy and MC pegs him..... Did I mention we peg the rest of brothers who have also turned into a cat boys due to the spell as well

I need it so I can spread it everywhere and continue my Obey Me Brothers Cat Boy Agenda

Also our boys in skirts is really hot, has nothing to do with what I just said but it just came to mind and I figure I should bless you with the image as well-

Kou your a professional Obey Me Simp

you take that back. 🤣 I have failed to earn this title because I wasn't able to find that fic for you lmao. I tried. I really gave it a proper fucking try and couldn't find it on either Tumblr or AO3. 😭😭😭 it's a damn shame, I'd love to read it myself. And to help you spread the Cat Boy Agenda.

Thank you for the skirt thoughts blessing! As consolation, here are some further OM! boys in skirts ideas:

Lucifer:

ankle-length, with neat pleats, black (of course)

occasionally he might deign to wear a knee-length skirt with some dark tights. bonus points if it's a black skirt with a layer of red fabric on the inside, because Aesthetic ™

Mammon:

tight white leather miniskirt for going to the club baybeeee

also I think he'd look good in light-washed denim, rips optional

Leviathan:

Ruri-chan cosplay. of course

soft pastel pink miniskirt with a soft fuzzy pink sweater aaaa (credit to my friend E for this one); bonus if it's a cropped sweater

deep indigo mid-calf-length skirt for when he's in his true form, and his tail peeks out the bottom

Satan

I'm going to forcibly upgrade his fashion sense and give him a floor-length slinky satin skirt in navy blue, with a side slit that goes way up

or classic librarian chic: gray tweed pencil skirt that can go with his everyday top

Asmodeus

white and pink floral, mid thigh length, with soft ruffles

a really tight miniskirt in stretchy white fabric, to maximally show off his ass

Beelzebub

big poofy skirt with lots of layers because the idea of it making him happy to floof it around is making me happy

however if Asmo dresses him, he will end up wearing some kind of stretchy jersey skirt that's tight enough to show off the dump truck ass that he definitely has

Belphegor

anything that has pockets and is comfortable enough to sleep in

bonus points if it has a cow print

little black dress! with a tight skirt down to mid thigh!

Simeon

oh sweet hells I have too many Simeon outfit ideas. I plan to draw them eventually 😅

floor length dark green velvet skirt with high slits on both sides. matching long-sleeved crop top with an off-the-shoulder shallow-v neckline.

cheery yellow sundress with a flowy knee-length skirt

Diavolo

Diavolo in a miniskirt, Diavolo in a miniskirt [because of this post]

a teeny tiny little red pleated miniskirt

a tight mid-thigh skirt in black, with diagonal white stripes bc I think it's fun

Solomon

this outfit with a dress worn by fem!Solomon, but actually he'll wear it whenever he damn well pleases

knee-length A-line skirt with a pretty blue gradient, with black tights with little mesh cutouts in curvy shapes

Barbatos

slightly off theme but I have this headcanon of Barbatos wearing silk nightgowns to bed, so like a nice pale green one that goes down to mid-thigh. long, loose sleeves, maybe a bit of lace edging

one of those skirts that's shorter in the front and longer in the back, with a teal gradient that matches his Aesthetic ™, and black tights

[kiisaes]

Bakugo Katsuki

Why I like them

honestly there’s so many things i love about bakugou but i don’t think i could even explain them properly??? he’s the most dynamic character in the series to me, and his development is handled with such care it makes me suuuper happy :’) i like how he’s very slowly but dramatically realizing his faults and that he needs to change in order to become strong, but strong in his own way instead of in the way society pushes. yes he has anger issues and is a huge pissbaby but i love him for it and it just makes him a much more entertaining character!!

Why I don’t

i hate bakugou’s personality in s1, but like,,, i’m pretty sure everyone did LOL

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

the little scene in s3 when he was all confused and he was looking around all lost, poofy blond hair floofing along,,, so cute!!!

!!! ANYWAY MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS FOR CHAPTERS 284, 285, 286 BELOW !!!

SERIOUSLY!!! SPOILERS!!! DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU!!!

when bakugou’s body “moved on its own” to protect deku and taking the life-threatening hits from shiggy....let me tell you how hard i cried I CRIED VERY HARD. oh and when he confirmed that he wants to help deku train and sees it as his atonement too. that too. tears. i felt tears. that’s called CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, BABY

!!! OK SPOILERS OVER !!!

!!!

Favorite season/movie

any season post s1 is a pro-bakugou season for me :’) and bakugou in both movies was also super cool! (though bakugou in the second movie was obviously on a whole nother level)

Favorite line

“WHY WAS I THE ONE WHO HAD TO END ALL MIGHT?” or whatever he said about all might’s retirement

also (!!! CHAPTER 286 SPOILERS !!!) “don’t go... playing... hero... by yourself...”

Favorite outfit

his winter hero outfit!!!

OTP

bakudeku jkfdkjadfkjakjf

Brotp

bakugou and kirishima

i also think bakugou and todoroki would be fucking hilarious, please give us more of these two idiots

Head Canon

bakugou is hard of hearing/deaf due to how loud his explosions are; consequently he knows sign language!

this is a popular one but he’s an incredibly talented chef (i know this came out of him literally just chopping vegetables really fast and confidently but like. wouldn’t it be funny if this angry man was a god at cooking.)

i think bakugou’s softer than he thinks he is, but he keeps overcompensating because he thinks it’s weak to feel soft emotions. but deep down he’s a big softie he just doesn’t know how to handle it so he comes off as emotionally constipated

Unpopular opinion

i think middle school bakugou gets way too much flack -- yeah he told deku to k*ll himself but 1.) he was 14-15 and all 14-15 year olds are awful and 2.) after putting his entire character development into perspective, he likely said it because he either wanted to discourage deku into becoming a hero so heavily (due to fearing that deku would get hurt if he tried since he didn’t have a quirk), he jumped to extremes, or he thought that bullying a quirkless would establish his place on the social hierarchy, something he cared really deeply about ever since he was little

i think he was still an assface and middle schoolers suck anyway but he was nonetheless pretty young; people treat him like he’s unchangable despite just being a young teen and not even experiencing the world properly yet. the entire series puts some serious focus on his development and i think s1 bakugou should be taken with a grain of salt, used as a starting point so we can overall see how much he grows throughout the story

A wish

bakugou please for the love of god, be friends with deku again. you know you want it.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

if bakugou dies i will eat my table

5 words to best describe them

strong, resolute, complicated, explosive, heroic

My nickname for them

bakubitch

explody boy

sparky sparky boom man

kacchan :)

thanks for asking!

[98prilla]

Seeking Oblivion

Next

Previous 

AO3

...

Gray. Everything and nothing and the world was gray. He couldn’t even see his own hand in front of his face, his own being felt strange, not quite solid, on this endless realm of empty nothing that clouded everything.

 But there was one thing, something, pulsing softly at the edge of his senses, dim and distant but there.

 “Roman!” he shouted, voice bouncing and ricocheting back at him in a choir of calls, somehow louder than he'd been to start with.

 He spun towards the feeling, taking off after it, pulling once more at the bond, feeling him closer, but no more responsive, still frustratingly, emptily, terrifyingly blank.

 The farther he got into the gray, the harder it was to keep moving, some force slowing him, until pushing forwards with all his might barely moved him a step.

 But he could see something. He grit his teeth, summoned all his strength, and shoved, suddenly through.

The gray was behind, a bubble over this space, one he could somehow feel used to be larger, one he could feel shrinking and cracking, only a matter of time until the gray swept in and devoured it all.

 And on a stone pedestal before him was Roman, arms crossed over his chest, still as stone, pale as ivory. His outfit was leeched of color, his sash a pale, faded pink, his gold epaulets a faint yellow, the shine corroded and rusting away.

 His heart clenched and he reached out, eyes widening as he felt Roman's cheek. It didn’t just look like ivory, it was cold, solid stone. Roman was turned to stone.

 He stumbled back, screaming as he saw a crack form across Roman's legs, spreading up his body, diverging into hairline fractures that threatened to send him crumbling to rubble.

…

“Remus!”

 His eyes snapped open, and he heaved in a choked breath, eyes wild and wide as he saw more of the gray, the devouring gray, and Roman, he had to find Roman, and someone was screaming, and oh, it was him.

 He snapped his mouth shut, swallowing the scream still lingering in his throat, feeling hands on his shoulders, realizing Patton was kneeling before him, eyes wide and worried behind his glasses.

 He focused instead on Patton's face, cataloging the rounded wire frames, counting the freckles that bridged his nose, the floof to his disheveled bed head, realizing only at Patton’s small giggle that one of his hands had unconsciously found its way into his hair. It was very soft, a bit like petting a fluffy cat. Maybe Patton’s hair was just a cat, and he’d put it on his head and trained it to stay still so no one would realize he had a pet he was allergic to.

 “It’s not a cat, kiddo, just my hair.” Patton giggled, making Remus realize he'd spoken out loud. “you okay, kiddo? You woke up screaming.” He took a deep breath, surprised that Patton hadn’t pulled away yet, hadn’t told him to get off, hadn’t shoved him away in disgust.

 “Remus?” Virgil asked, and his eyes snapped to his, surprised again to see softness instead of the fear he was used to.

 “roman… I saw Roman…” he whispered, disentangling himself from Patton with a grateful glance towards the moral side as he kept ahold of his hand, the touch keeping him from losing hold of his sanity as he stood, still shaky. “not… not him, really, but the Imagination’s manifestation of him, of… of his form, of what he’s feeling or… fuck, I don’t know, I don’t know how to explain it! It’s just… it’s bad. It’s what we already knew. It’s all crumbling down, and soon so will Roman if we can’t fix whatever the hell he did to himself because he thought none of you loved him anymore!” He rants, having let go of Patton at some point, pacing once more, arms swinging wildly.

 “He thinks… we don’t love him?” Patton asked, and he looked at the moral side incredulously.

 “Um. Duh? He was a mess, yesterday. He was basically told everything he’d ever done to try and be good like you wanted meant nothing, that giving up the callback meant nothing, that trusting Janus was bad, but now trusting Janus is good, and being selfish is good, even though before it was bad, and everything that he’d been doing to try and be good was actually hurting everybody else! And then, you-“ Remus spun, pointing at Janus, eyes burning, “You basically called him evil, called him me, which is his worst fear, and none of you stepped in to say otherwise! So yeah, he thinks no one wants him anymore, dipshits!” He yelled angrily, glaring around at the somewhat stricken sides. “Except you, Virgil, you were dealing with your own shit.” He threw in after a moments thought. “Now come on!” He turned on his heel and stomped away, taking the lead, following the thread connecting him to Roman, trying and failing to pull at it and get any response from his other half, not really caring if the others were following or even keeping up.

 “I didn’t mean to hurt him… I just thought he needed space.” Patton whispered, feeling almost stuck in place as he pictured Roman’s face before he sunk out, on the verge of tears, hugging himself tightly.

 “I know, Patton. But a lot of people got hurt yesterday, by the both of us.” Janus murmured, looking ahead to where Logan and Virgil walked, nearly in step, Remus already disappearing into the fog.

 “how do I fix any of this? How… what if I can’t?” Patton asked desolately, looking up at Janus with those wide, puppy dog eyes.

 “You can, and you will. You always do, Pat.” He replied, squeezing Patton’s shoulder once, before pulling him into motion. “Just one step at a time.”

…

 It could have been hours later or mere minutes, when they reached the base of the tower. There was no sense of time there, no sense of anything, and the only thing keeping any of them from going mad from it was the worry that grew with every step.

 Then, suddenly, they were there.

 It was like stepping into a bubble of preserved Imagination. Suddenly, there was green grass underfoot, butterflies flitting from wildflower to wildflower, the colors bright and disorienting after so long in the gray. There was sun again, and fluffy clouds, and blue sky, a sweet, summer breeze lazily gusting by.  

 And in the center of it all, was the tower. It spiraled up, up, up, so high that even craning his neck all the way back, Virgil couldn’t quite see the very top of it. He eyeballed the bricks, but at a distance, they all looked solid. He was about to ask Remus if he’d be able to make something, in this uncorrupted sphere of the imagination, when a roar shook the ground.

 Suddenly the sun was blocked out by a huge shadow, and both Virgil and Janus shoved the others back, stumbling after them, as a huge thump sent them all sprawling. Looking back, Virgil sucked in a breath. Of course. Of course Princey couldn’t make an impossible tower, it also had to have a guardian.

 It was a dragon, a giant, fiery red dragon, golden scales interspersed among the ruby red, and it glinted like fire as it flared its wings, roaring once more, a sound that knocked them all further back, sent Virgil’s heart pounding, because it was huge, its talons taller than he was, teeth bared in a low growl as it watched them, slowly approaching.

 “I suggest a tactical retreat.” Logan murmured, trying to stay as still as possible, so as not to trigger the dragon’s hunting instincts.

 “Please, I’ve fought dragons thousands of times, and Roman’s aren’t even venomous!” Remus scoffed.

 “Yes, but that was with the power of the imagination. You can’t conjure here, Remus, you’re at a distinct disadvantage.” Janus cut in, grabbing onto Remus’s wrist before he could lose control and lunge at the beast.

 “Um, guys, we better do something, otherwise we’re gonna be dragon food!” Virgil hissed, unable to pull his eyes away from the furious dragon, who was now snorting smoke out of its nostrils, and he could practically see the fire burning in its belly, ready to erupt at any moment and burn them all to ashes, and then they’d all die just like that, and oh god, Thomas really was going to be a potato, wasn’t he-

 “Patton!” Janus hissed, and his eyes shot up, heart freezing in his chest as they all were broken out of their argument, Patton halfway across the clearing to the thundering, scaled beast.

 “Guys, it’s ok.” Patton said, shooting them all a small, worried smile, hands shaking as he approached the dragon, covering his ears as it roared again, right in his face, hearing the others’ sharp intakes of breaths.

 “hey, bud. It’s ok. I’m not gonna hurt you, m’kay?” He said softly, hands raised in the air, eyes looking down at the ground, peeking at the dragon from the corners of his eyes. He saw the dragon nervously kneading the ground, and lowered his hands to his sides. “You’re scared, aren’t you?” The dragon puffed indignantly in his face, wings flapping once, hard enough to knock him onto his butt. He smiled gently, looking up at the dragon, who’s entire focus was on him now, eyes narrowed as it tried to figure him out.

 “I’m scared too. We came looking for our friend, cause we know he’s in trouble. He’s… he’s had a tough time, recently, y’know? That’s why you’re here too, right? To take care of Roman?” He asked, tilting his head, the dragon slowly blinking once, almost like cats do, to show trust. “You’re protecting him, aren’t you? Trying to keep all the bad stuff away.” It’s not really a question, but the dragon seemed to nod, settling down on the ground, still watching Patton warily. He sighed.

 “and we’re part of what hurt him, so you’re trying to keep us away, keep us from hurting him more. I get it. But… but we want to help. This place is falling apart, cause of whatever is happening up there, and we can stop it. We have to stop it. Otherwise… otherwise I lose one of my kiddos, and I can’t…” He swiped his eyes with his sleeve, unable to help the sniffles overtaking him, all if it really just hitting him, that he could lose Roman forever.

 “I’d miss him. I’d miss him so, so much, I don’t think I could stand it. And I just want to help him feel better. I just want to tell him how much I love him, and I can’t, and I understand why he’d need space, but he didn’t need to leave…” He was crying, now, full on, messy tears dripping down his face.

 Then suddenly there was warmth against him, and he looked up to see the dragon nuzzling him with its snout, and with a small, broken wail, he hugged back, the dragon curling around him, resting its head in his lap as he pet it and cried and told it everything that had happened, everything that he’d wished he’d done differently, every way he was going to show Roman he was so, so, so, loved when they got him back, because they would get him back, they had to!

 Eventually, he cried himself out, hiccupping slightly as he stroked the dragon’s nose, wiping away the last of his tears.

 “you’re a good listener, huh? You’re a good dragon, too. Thank you, for looking after him.” Patton mumbled, kissing the top of its head softly. The dragon rumbled, almost a purr, and a small smile cracked through his misery as he drew back, sighing as he stared up at the tower. “will you let us through? We just… we wanna make things right.” He whispered, the dragon pulling back, looking at him hard for a long, endless moment, before dipping his head, and stretching out a wing, an invitation to climb aboard. He felt something in his heart lift as he turned back to the others, watching him with varying amounts of amazement and concern.

 “Well? Are you coming?” He echoed Remus, from what felt like years ago, a hopeful smile on his face as they all approached.

 “Is… is this really safe? Like, its not gonna drop us, or anything, right?” Virgil asked, glancing at the dragon a bit distrustfully.

 “It’ll be fine, Virg. I promise.” Virgil sighed, muttering something about going out with a bang, before gingerly climbing up the dragon’s wing, sitting between two of its spine spikes.

 “I’ll go make sure he doesn’t panic himself into falling off.” Janus commented with an eye roll, climbing up next. Logan simply gave him a small nod, his eyes somehow conveying all of his thanks and astonishment, as well as admonishment for putting himself in harm’s way.

 “Remus?” He asked softly, the last one to not board, looking up at the top of the tower’s spiral.

 “What if it really is like my dream? What if he’s crumbled to nothing but rubble?”

 “He hasn’t. This wouldn’t still be here, if he already had gone. We can do this, Ree. We all can. Together.” Remus stared a moment at Patton’s outstretched hand, taking a shuddering breath as he clasped it firmly in his, pulling Patton into a hug before he could stop himself.

 “thank you. For being so nice to me.” He mumbled, before he pulled away, springing up the dragon’s wing, Patton right behind, a slight frown playing on his lips. He’d have to make a point of including Remus more, inviting him to family events, him and Janus both.

 Because… because they were, part of the family. Family fought and squabbled and yelled and disagreed, but family loved each other, in the end, were only trying to look out for each other, even when that meant butting heads. They were his kiddos now, too, and he was determined that no one ever feel unwanted, ever again.

[theteapotofdoom]

Do you have any headcanons about new BlackMagic dads bringing newborn Tenko home from the hospital/adoption agency? Maybe some stuff from the first few months or year adapting to parenting their lil floof?

I AM SO WEAK FOR THIS AU … I love BlackMagic and I love baby Tenko being happy and safe, so this is the holy grail.

So I mean depending on how much you stick to canon there would be a whole lot of acclimatisation and just working on making Tenko feel safe in his new hope. But for now, I want to focus on the fluff and the happy parenting because I feel like this is what we all need right now, and also because I already kind of explore Kurogir and Shig dealing with the trauma in Something Good, and I feel like I would mostly be repeating myself here.

They. Are. Both. So. Excited!!!

Maybe a little too excited. They’ve been preparing for years now (adoption services be like that) and they have planned everything, they made so many lists, took so many classes, read so many books, talk to so many people … but suddenly, Tenko is here. And weirdly enough, none of that stuff seems to matter anymore? Suddenly, he’s here and everything is smooth and easy. And a little chaotic.

Again, depending on how old he is when they get him, there could be so many different scenarios. Just … imagine these two distinguished gays sitting on their couch completely still, holding the smol floof baby Tenko in their arms and just looking at him for hours and hours. They barely move at all, they’re just looking at him and gasping every time he blinks. At some point, he yawns and they both start crying. Absolute clowns. Both of them.

Kurogiri refuses to let Sako swear in front of the baby and they lowkey argue about it because Sako is like “HE IS AN INFANT he won’t remember hearing shit” and Kurogiri is like “NO IT WILL STAY IN HIS TINY BRAIN FOREVER”

Sako just likes to swear okay? It actually becomes a problem when Tenko is a toddler learning how to speak, he has to control his tongue now. But, ironically, Tenko learns his first “fuck” from Kurogiri. Poor mist dad is always so careful and swears, like, one time every thirty years, but that was all it took. Tenko heard it. And repeated it. Kurogiri had a mental breakdown over it. Sako thought it was hilarious.

“Honey please calm down” “I am a DISGRACE …” “My darling, you slipped, it can happen, but it’s okay we will just …” “I HAVE LOST MY DAD RIGHTS SAKO …”

Also just … pure soft fluff.

Like … just the three of them all sleeping in the same bed all tangled up together. Or napping on the couch, or even directly on the floor after they all played for hours. Or maybe they have a garden and they all sleep outside in the fresh grass.

The three of them!!! Gardening!!! Together!!! Holy shit!!! They have matching gardener outfits because these dads are STYLING and they want their boy to look good as well. They teach him the different seeds and how to take care of plants and vegetables … Tenko is listening but also just playing with the earth because it’s one of the rare things he can actually touch without worrying. 

That’s all I have for now, but I love them so much, I will never be tired of discussing THEM!!!

[zayphyr]

birthday baby

pairing: neighbours!woojoong x bestfriend!reader

genre: pure floof :)

warnings: none!

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you open your eyes to the repeated ringing of your doorbell, and groggily check the alarm clock on your bedside table

6:02 am,,,, on the first day of your break,,,

whoever's on the other side of your front door better have a real good reason, you think as you get off the bed and run your fingers through your hair

"what?"

"hAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!!"

a very excited hongjoong stands before you in a bright green jacket with a chunky blue sweater underneath

(the light hits his platinum blonde hair beautifully, you mentally note)

your best friend's holding a massive wrapped box in his arms, smiling (almost literally) from ear to ear

it's waY too early in the morning for your heart to do whatever it's doing now

you take a whole good five minutes to realise it is, in fact, your birthday, and he really is standing in front of you like that,,

"oh, right, thank you" and motion for him to finally step inside

which he happily does, and places the massive box on your table

"tadaa!"

"okay, what's in the box?"

"why don't you open to find out?"

his eyes are practically sparkling now

you slowly take apart the pretty, pastel pink wrapping, carefully taking away the tape

till he eventually intervenes and rips it off bc he's too excited for you to see what's inside

opening the box, you see a mASSIVE soft brown teddy nearly your height

you read the powder blue tag around its neck and chuckled

'for when you miss me too much! rosebud here's gonna keep you and pororo the penguin company'

"aww joongie, I love it so much!!"

you bury your face into its fluffy, soft arms

"heyyy, rosebud's for when you miss me, I'm right here now", he pouts waiting with open arms

you laugh and squish your face into his sweater instead, breathing in his scent while he holds you close and ruffles your hair

you shuffle into the kitchen to make coffee for the both of you

"joong, I love you and all, but it's six in the morning, you could've given it to me later. why are you even awake?"

"it's my bestest baby's birthday!! how could I waste any precious hours of the day sleeping??"

you roll your eyes slightly and smile to yourself, while he comes over to where you are

"I'm going right back to sleep after coffee, mind you. I gotta catch up for the nights I spent finishing up all those assignments"

you place two coffee mugs on the table beside him- your black ralts themed one and his yellow sylveon one

(yeS he has his own coffee mug, that's how often he's at your place)

"yeah, there's no way I'm letting you do that today of all days, you have the whole rest of the month to catch up on it anyway."

"but joong, whyyy? just let me sleeeeeep" you pout

"cute, but that's not gonna work today. the whole reason I asked about your agenda for the day was because you'll have to clear it! I have a lot of things planned so all you need to do is follow me~"

he emphasises on the last word by putting his hands on his cheeks, making a flower out of his face

while your face decides it's a good time to heat up

"you know, you're really lucky you're cute"

*cue nervous laughter from your side*

before he could respond, your doorbell rings,,, again

"wh-"

you open the door only to be greeted by a massive bear hug

"happy bIRTHDAY Y/N!! we have so many things to do and places to go and it's gonna be amazing, I'm so thankful you exist and you're gonna have to get ready quick because-"

you only hope he doesn't notice your heart beating a wHOLE lot faster than usual

laughing, you pull away to see the other half of your best bud duo

aka a very hyped wooyoung, also dressed warm, in a deep red jacket on the multiple layers he has on over his white tee

"I really don't get why you guys are so excited, I nearly forgot I was turning a year older today"

"guys? oh no-"

"beat you to it, woo"

hongjoong speaks up in the doorway, arms folded over his chest with a pretty smug smile on his face

"come oN, don't you have work today??"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"ugh fiiine, but we're first gonna get breakfast at this place I found that she'll love"

"cool with me, so long as we go to the carnival next"

"and I'm driving"

"yeah no, that's out of question"

"but I've got her a little something and it's in my car"

he tries pouting to get his way, key word here being *tries*

"please, I'm practically immune to those. your car, but there's nO way I'm letting you drive after last week"

wooyoung turns his attention to you, yawning, still in the hallway

"y/n, go get dressed!!"

he walks you by the shoulders to your room and then joins hongjoong on the couch

you hear their voices over the muffled noises of the tv

"I want coffee too!! where's my mug? get me some, hyung"

"I'm busy, get it yourself"

"you're literally just watching someone talk about walls"

"yeah and?? I'm learning more about cement than you ever will"

you smile to yourself while you open your wardrobe to decide on an outfit

it sure is gonna be a long, tiring day for the butterflies in your tummy

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

this is a lil oneshot I wrote for my baby kiwi @extraterestirol 💘 I was supposed to post it on her birthday but oh weLL,, hope you liked it regardless! 💌

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 3X13 - Witch Hunt

Hey! What’s Zelena’s favorite food?

A sand-WITCH, of course!

...Got it. Shutting up. Review’s below. Read it, bitches.

Press Release

Emma arrives in Storybrooke with Henry and reunites with her friends and family, only to discover that no one remembers how they were transported back - or the past year they had spent back in Fairy Tale Land. But Emma is sure that someone in town is responsible for this new curse and teams up with Regina in an attempt to uncover their identity. Meanwhile, in the Fairy Tale Land that was during the past year, Regina, with the aid of Robin Hood, attempts to break into her castle, which has been overtaken by the Wicked Witch.

Main Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness

Past

Regina and Zelena’s first meeting is just straight-up iconic! The buildup to it is incredible, with little hints scattered all around the episode that the two are related and that Zelena’s power is a completely different horse than Regina’s, even down to the color. But there’s this sense of relation because of how sassy the two of them are.

“Despite my shortcomings, I’ve made something of myself.” This whole scene perfectly characterizes Zelena. Regina has been a force of antagonism for a lot of people, but no one has had the strength to truly do something about it. The most that could be done is a level of subduing her or having Henry tame her. But now, an interesting balance was struck. Zelena is more powerful than Regina and puts her on the prowl with that sense of antagonism BUT there’s also another layer to it. She allows for the integrity of Regina’s character development to stay intact. Because her beef is with something Cora did and pointed at Regina for superficial reasons -- that of being born (And holy crap, I just noticed a parallel between this and the Daniel incident and that’s a topic for another day), Regina is still able to be a hero without coming across as torturing someone she already hurt. Mix this in with that gorgeous green all over Rebecca Mader’s body and various pieces of iconography and you have something truly cool!

Present

I really like the handling of the confusion and paranoia throughout the town.

Leroy (The embodiment of the town’s voice at large) as well as the rest of the “rabble” blaming Regina make a lot of sense to me. As I pointed out last time, while our mains have bonded with Regina and understand the depth of her love for Henry, the rest of the town hasn’t had those experiences. They’ve just seen her as the woman who cursed the kingdom and threatened them at nearly every public appearance she’s ever made. And seeing Emma and Regina aware of that and using it to their advantage was utterly fantastic! It’s a really methodical approach that speaks to how self aware they’ve become.

It’s such a clever plan too! The only thing that holds it back from being a straight-up success is their lack of knowledge about Regina and Zelena’s relation. And seeing everything play out is satisfying!

Insights - Stream of Consciousness

-Wicked always WIIIIIIIINNNNNNSSSSSSS!

-”A family could live on what this is worth. And she just left it all behind.” That begs the question: DID she leave that stuff behind? I mean, Regina dressed very differently in Storybrooke than she did in the Enchanted Forest, but why leave the jewels?!

-I like how Zelena uses magic for all the things that a normal person would use it for. Getting dressed is a pain? Use fucking magic for it!

-ROLAND! The precious baby!!!

-”I’m ALWAYS thinking about Henry.” Awwwwww!!!

-Go Mama Mills! Monkey’s flying at an adorable kid and Regina swoops in and saves him! Noice!

-Damn, Regina! That is a high quality toy you made!

-I love how whether they read the story or not, everyone just KNOWS that Snow can talk to birds.

-”Smart money’s on yes.” Why yell at him Snow? He’s not wrong! Pessimistic, maybe, but that’s literally in his fucking name!

-”He’ll show up Swan. He always does.” I really wish this line was said in good faith, but Killian’s eye roll makes me think it’s ship war nonsense. Dude! Neverland’s over! Let’s be done with the machismo!

-”The bookworm’s right.” Look at that little side eye.

-”Oz? That place is real?” Aww! Cute Snow/Emma parallel for later when she discovers the Wicked Witch is real.

-”We we cell mates.” Ginny’s freakin’ tone during that exchange! Yes, you, Mary Margaret, in your most preppy-prep school voice and manner, were definitely in a cell! XD

-Dude! That Regal Believer exchange was just the saddest thing in the world! Regian can hardly move, so much so that Emma basically has to usher her out to not cause even more of a scene.

-As a side note, I love Regina’s Storybrooke outfit in this episode!

-Emma and Regina’s exchange in Granny’s alcove is just so amazing! Emma’s not without her reasons to distrust Regina and makes that clear and Regina’s aware enough of that but not without reservations of her own to Emma’s accusatory nature.

-How much you want to bet Granny recommended the crossbow to Little John?!

-Okay, so I am a total carnivore and I laughed my ass off when that arrow missed! XD

-I love how Rebecca Mader is dressed so down that a shot and a music swell is needed to show off who she is.

-”Who knew an Evil Queen had a soft spot for children?” You pressed the Henry button, Robin. You shouldn’t have done that.

-”I may have done bad things in my life, but at least I own it.” Regina, NONE of that works the way you think it does. For one thing, a good portion of your time prior to the curse (As well as after it), you denied you were the Evil Queen. For another, admitting you’re bad doesn’t do anything to lessen the effects of the bad things you do. Regina, Reggie-kins! You were doing so well!

-”I inadvertently put her in harm’s way during a job.” I love how freakin’ vague this line is. Like, I feel like there was a “Murder Most Foul”-esque red herring twist -- even more so than the one we got -- that would gel with a Robin flashback (Which was desperately needed).

-I love how this is framed as Henry not being himself because he’s not reacting to baby stuff, but he’s a freakin’ kid! I’d be telling her to buzz off as well!

-”Baby’s are stronger than you think.” Did you enjoy that double entendre, Jane? XD Because I did!

-I like how magic has a scientific element to it occasionally. For just as much as it’s a matter of talent or an ability by birth, magic can be learned and some of the strongest practitioners got to where they are by studying their asses off. There’s a diversity to it that reflects the diversity of skills.

-”I know just who to tell.” Yes, Regina!!! You told the embodiment of the town at large!!! Awesome decision!

-Nurse! Stick the fucking syringe in Little John! Yeah, he’s acting weird, but he’s not attacking just yet, so get a move on!

-”I’m a doctor, not a vet.” We REALLY need to get a magical vet on staff. I feel like Storybrooke has way too many animal problems to not have one.

-I love Regina and Emma���s conversation about stakeouts! It’s so subdued and domestic and FUNNY! XD

-Aww! Henry has friends! I wonder if said friends are wondering what the hell happened to Henry. Like, are there fics akin to “Stand By Me” where his friend group goes looking for him? Does Henry still text them? There’s a fucking story here!

-“Enough with the martyr complex, Regina. Try growing up without a mother.” ...She has a twinge of a point there, Regina.

-”They’re both dead.” I love how Rebecca Mader plays off learning that information. Like, her facial expressions there are divine!

-Has anyone ever written a fic where Zelena DID make the time traveling spell and used it on her terms?

-”Someone to destroy.” OMFG! Lana’s face! I fucking love it!

-”Why’d she tell you all of this?” Dude, she said two pieces of info that are the most general topics in the world when dealing with kids.

-”Maybe we can stop for ice cream.” BAD IDEA!

-”He took on simian form with the added bonus of wings.” A touch redundant, Killian.

-”Seriously? She’s real too?” I love that adorably innocent way that line is given! It’s so cute!

-OMG! I love the Rumple reveal! First, we see some straw. Then we see a male’s hand. Finally, we see his rugged and haggard face! That was so small, but so good!

-Rumple’s poor floof! It’s all gross!

-Rumple’s cage outfit looks more Weaver than Rumple! XD

-Okay, seeing Rumple not in makeup and acting crazy may quite possibly be the scariest thing in this series!

Arcs - How Are These Storylines Progressing?

The Wicked Witch - Damn! Rebecca Mader plays Zelena playing a midwife flawlessly! It’s up there with Pan as just amazing! Also, Zelena is freakin’ clever as hell! She takes full advantage of her knowledge of the people of Storybrooke to get exactly what she needs. And as I mentioned before, the flashback scenes perfectly characterize her. She’s sinister, has greater depth to her, and is just so cool! And speaking of cool, while the player (Zelena) is revealed to the audience, there’s a great element of mystery still going on, keeping the season from just feeling like a waiting game. Why is everyone being turned into monkeys vampire-style? What happened during that year? Who knows!

Regina’s Redemption - Like with the past few episodes, I really enjoy Regina’s character development. We’re starting to enter the payoff stage of her redemption as she further grows on better terms with everyone and protecting not just herself and Henry, but others too.

Killian’s Redemption - “Is he alive?” I love the way that Killian’s eyes just show that it’s something he’s genuinely concerned about. Absent is the snarkier, less mature version of himself and here, we have a Killian who recognizes that a good person’s life is in jeopardy and genuinely just doesn’t want him to be dead.

Favorite Dynamic

Regina and Emma. Who fucking else? The friendliness between these two set up by Regina’s fake memories and her means of stopping the curse perfectly allows for the niceness between the two of them to fit like a glove! It’s not full on best friend niceness, but it’s a niceness that reflects what they did for each other in “Coming Home” and reflects well on their history.

Writer

Here we have Jane Espenson flying solo as the writer of this episode! She did a fantastic job. The stories throughout the segments are very simple, but the complexity is allowed to shine through the intricacies of the characters. The dialogue and thought processes of everyone are exceptionally well handled and there’s a lot of comedy that just works so well!

Rating

Golden Apple. While I normally reserve a Golden Apple for something with a bit more of a thematic resonance, the execution of the stories here is so good that it doesn’t need a theme in that way. The story and writing are exceptionally good here, playing it simple, but smart and allowing the nuances to speak for themselves. There’s a lot of great elements and great and iconic moments here. It’s a fun step on the journey of this new arc.

Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness”

Swan Fire - For all of the worrying that Neal does for Emma, it’s really heartwarming to see how much she worries about him!

Outlaw Queen - I feel like for purposes of full disclosure, I should preface this by saying that I’m not a super strong Outlaw Queen shipper. That said, I want to like them (As I want to like all things), and I’m really liking them in 3B (I liked them the first time around in my initial watch of 3B too)! Lana and Sean have good chemistry and the writing gives them a nice bit of banter. You get the feeling that while they don’t despise each other, they’re not on good terms and that trust has to build between them. And because this is early on in Robin’s existence, he’s allowed to be a simpler character. The love story between them starts out simple and to the point, allowing for it to be a great romance story.

Swan Queen - You really see the developed faith and trust between Emma and Regina and it’s so nice to see them being much more open with each other. Look at their dialogue in the office and how honest and kind they are to each other and it’s night-and-day compared to Season 1, but so well built! And look at those gentle smiles! It’s so sweet!! The payoff here is just so good!

-----

I’m so glad I was able to get more in-depth about this episode! Thank you all for reading and to those fabulous folks at @watchingfairytales!

Next time, we’ll see another looming presence that towers over our heroes. ;)

Season 3 Total (126/220)

Writer’s Scores: Adam and Eddy (39/60) Kalinda Vazquez (17/40) Andrew Chambliss (27/50) Jane Espenson (20/30) David Goodman (20/40) Robert Hull (20/40) Christine Boylan (20/20)* Daniel Thomsen (20/30) * Indicates that their work for the season is complete

Operation Rewatch Archives

[mysticallumine]

Robotic Shance

It was a new era. Robots roamed the streets after those who were wealthy enough to own one. They did everything, anything the owner told them to. The robots were slowly becoming a threat for those who used the bots for bad. Murder was the first conviction that made the bots a bad idea. It was worse for the robot than it was for the master, the bots were accused of completely doing it on their own. Humans believed the human saying they didn't give the bot that order than the actual bot who said they were only following orders.

It was a cruel world for most bots, many of them were shut down and kept in a cell until they could be reprogrammed. Others, who did major crimes, were taken apart limb by limb. They couldn't feel physical pain but they could feel pain emotionally and mentally. Watching themselves get ripped apart was traumatizing for bots and some were never able to get over the events.

On top of bots being convicted of murder or being tortured, they were badly treated commonly by humans. If they were sent out alone, they would be tripped or sometimes the bot would come home without an arm. It really was cruel on how the bots were treated. Those who hated bot treatement protested or were sent outside the city to live in the dying country side.

Humans got bots mainly for the daily labor they were too lazy to do themselves. Anything the humans didn't want to do, they made the bots do them. Some bots were appointed to those who were disabled. Since the mental hospitals or just general hospitals were filling quickly from bot attacks, patients were sent away with a robot to take care of them.

Robots who were taking care of their disabled master were the most treated badly. Humans didn't think robots were the correct caretakers for other humans, they thought they weren't good enough to take care of one of their precious fellow humans. The bots who took care of their human had a very visible Red Cross on their forehead, making them even more vulnerable to being attacked.

Lance had a bot, one of those that took care of him. After trying to commit suicide many times, the mental hospital sent him away with a bot. As much as Lance said he didn't want one, they pushed the robot onto him and he was only left with the decision to keep it.

His bot was a male, a law that was executed so the human and bot don't fall in love. The bot's name was Shiro, a bulky, well built bot that always greeted Lance with a smile. Lance, still unhappy about having a bot, never returned the smile and only ignored him. Lance was one of the few people who hated that bots were a thing because of how humans had become. All humans had become greedy and lazy after World War 3 and everything was destroyed. Lance, for a long time, thought it was the world's way of grieving all their loss but thought differently when they didn't change at all.

Shiro's character was quite nice and Lance felt guilty for ignoring him all the time. All the bot wanted to do was take care of him and he just treated him like he didn't exist. He couldn't imagine how that made the poor bot feel. He knew if he was ignored, he wouldn't be able to handle that and he would go into another stage of depression. Shiro, luckily, didn't have to be ordered around and did things he felt needed to be done. He went out to get groceries, he paid the bills by himself, and he even went out to get Lance's medicine, going as far as making sure Lance had taken it.

Shiro was taller than Lance by a couple of inches, maybe a bit more than just a few. The bot had a strange hairstyle, one that was ordered by Lance. He had a white floof of hair that covered the center of his forehead, the hair covered the Red Cross on the bot's forehead. It was the least Lance could do, he felt obligated to keep the bot from harm. It was his bot and even if he didn't want it, he still had to protect it at some cost.

Lance had ordered that Shiro wore normal, human clothes. He had asked Keith, a boy he had met from the mental hospital for some clothes for Shiro. The boy complied, he being one of the people who hated the way bots were treated. Keith and him had become friends instantly and frequently met up just to talk about the horrible world. Hunk, Keith's bot, had also become good friends with Shiro so the two would catch up while their humans talked.

It was a rainy day when Lance woke up. The rain poured harshly down on Earth, as it was mad for the way it has become. Lance ignored the storm though, getting up to start his daily routine. He walked down the stairs, smelling pancakes and bacon from the kitchen. A plate of food was sitting at the end of the long dining table with a glass of water and a pill.

Lance smiled a little, knowing Shiro was still wondering around doing things he hadn't ordered him to do. The door of the front door burst open and Lance spun, breath hitching. In the doorway was a circuiting Shiro, Hunk and Keith carrying him in.

Lance set into action, rushing over to his bot, taking the bot's arm from Hunk. "Go get dried up, Hunk. We don't want to worry about you circuiting too." Hunk nodded to the order and went to go get dried off while the two humans dragged the bot to his charging station. Once Shiro was laying on the uncomfortable metal bed, Lance fished out his phone and called up the one bot mechanic he knew was a bot defender.

Lance bit his lip, wishing he could do more than just wait for the mechanic to get here. Keith sat in a chair in the corner while Lance paced the room, clear panic in his expression.

"Look, Lance, you don't need to get so worked up." Keith had sighed, finally unable to watch his friend worry. "Circuiting is common for bots who stay too long in the rain. He'll be fine once Pidge gets here." Lance looked at Keith, ready to argue but thought again it and only nodded his head.

"I know you're right but I can't help worrying. He was out in the rain because I ran out of pills. If I had gotten up earlier, I could've went out to get them instead of him." Lance looked at Shiro, the bot still soaking wet and circuiting. Lance saw that the clothes he had on was soaked and clinging to his robotic body.

"This happens, Lance. Just try to keep calm until Pidge gets-" Lance shushed him, ushering him up from his seat and out the door.

"Sorry Keith, but I'm going to change Shiro's clothes. I can't stand watching it stick to him." Keith nodded, still hesitate to leave Lance alone in the way he was in. Netherless, he turned and walked downstairs to go find his bot.

Lance closed the door to the room and turned to the closet. He knew Shiro wouldn't have much clothes in here but he hadn't expected the closet to only have one other outfit in it. Lance recognized the outfit as the one he had gotten Shiro on the bot's birthday. He always saw Shiro in the same outfit, the bot must've felt the outfit was too precious to wear on a daily basis.

Lance found himself smiling as he took the outfit off it's hanger and turned to the bot. The human boy placed the outfit to the side as he started undressing Shiro from his wet clothes. He struggled to lift the bot up but succeeded and slipped the shirt off his body. He turned to replace the wet shirt with the one he had gotten the bot, it was a nice red plaid shirt that didn't have any buttons. The fabric was soft and Lance knew it would be much more comfortable than the wet clothes he had on.

Lance paused when he turned to put the shirt on Shiro. Faded bruises and scars were visible on the bot's chest. He frowned, tracing a cut that was obviously fresh. Lance slipped on the shirt, deciding he'll ask Shiro about it once he wakes up.

Lance, with heated cheeks, changed Shiro's boxers and pants. Once he was done, a knock brought his long observational stare from Shiro to the door. A small, dorky girl popped her head into the room. Lance smiled, greeting his old friend.

"What did you say caused this?" Pidge hummed as she worked on Shiro. She had the panel on his neck open and she had tools working away on him.

"He went to get my medicine and stayed too long in the rain." Lance replied, biting his nails nervously. Pidge stopped, looking over at him with a deep frown.

"This was not the rain's work." Lance frowned. Before he could ask what she meant, she continued. "Someone opened his panel and tinkered with his wiring that made him start circuiting."

"I- What- Why- How- How could someone do that? Shiro wouldn't just bend over and let someone mess with his set up." Pidge hummed at the thought. She pushed up her glasses and turned back to fixing up Shiro.

"Seems like he didn't do this willingly." The girl grabbed a wire cutter, the sight making Lance flinch. "There's a new type of oil specifically used to make a bot shut down temporarily. Whoever did this wanted Shiro to either murder you or forget who you even are."

Lance shuddered at the thought of dying at Shiro's hands. He shuddered even more at the thought of Shiro forgetting who he was. As much as Lance ignored him, he just couldn't ignore how the bot made him feel. As soon as Shiro was introduced to him, he had felt a surge of want and affection towards the man. He felt wrong for having such feelings and hoped if he ignored the bot and his feelings, that such things would go away. He was wrong, it's been a full year and they haven't even faded in the slightest, only became more evident.

"All done." Lance snapped his attention to the machenic who was now shutting Shiro's panel. She put away her tools before closing the box and standing up. "You just need to tell him to wake up." Lance rushed for his wallet but stopped when Pidge shook her head.

"B-But.." she shook her head, giving him a smile before she exited the room.

Lance turned to Shiro, heart pounding as he opened his mouth to say his order. "Wake up, Shiro." At the order, Shiro's eyes fluttered open and he sat up, eyes turning to Lance.

"Good afternoon, Master Lance." Shiro flashed him that smile. The smile that made his heart flutter. Lance smiled back, watching the bot's shocked face.

"Do you have any idea how much you scared me?" Lance muttered, falling forward and hugging the bot tightly. "Don't ever do that again. From now on, you are not to leave my side." The cold metal arm placed itself on Lance's lower back, holding him back equally as tight.

"Is that an order, Master Lance?" Lance snorted, nodding his head.

"That's an order, Takashi." Lance pulled back, wiping away the tears that had fallen. "And stop calling me 'Master Lance', it's just Lance."

The bot smiled, nodding his head. "Okay, Lance. I won't leave your side ever again. I'll stay by your side forever." Shiro flashed him a goofy smile, warning a small laugh from Lance.

"Good." Lance leaned in, catching the bot's surprisingly soft lips in his. He felt content that Shiro was alright. Shiro was his. He was Shiro's.

~

~

It got a little rushed at the end but I actually really liked how it turned out. Sorry if there’s any mistakes that I haven’t caught that need to be edited. ._. (Edit: I might make this a small little series. So maybe this is part 1)

~

~

Tags to ignore:

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot - “Contraband” (Rated PG)

Kurt is supposed to be working, but instead he's spying on a handsome guy sitting in his section - a guy that he knows from school, who he's been dying to ask out for coffee ... and who happens to be exhibiting some rather odd behavior. (2024 words)

Notes: This is a re-write. Alternate first meeting.

Read on AO3.

“Hey, Hummel! You polish those glasses much more, you’ll wear holes through them!”

“Laugh all you want, Bret, but I’m pretty sure the people sitting in my section appreciate it when their cups are actually clean.”

“That, or you need something to do with your hands!” Bret fires back, subtly making a lewd gesture before heading off to a booth with three bundles of silverware.

“Ha-ha,” Kurt mumbles, but Bret has a point. He has been standing behind the diner counter for the past hour, wiping down glasses and silverware in an elaborate ruse to spy on a man in a blue hoodie seated at a booth in his section. It’s not because Kurt has no other work to do. The diner has been hopping since the start of his shift. There have already been two birthday parties and three random sing-a-longs. They’re expecting a group of twelve in a little less than half-an-hour, but Kurt is scheduled to leave in about ten minutes, so he should really be focusing on getting his section cleared of the loiterers, nursing watered-down sodas, who have yet to pay their checks.

But this handsome man, with his sunny smile that extends to his eyes, so rare in their weekday afternoon diners; his funky, retro manner of dress; and his charming haphazard curls; has Kurt absolutely captivated. To top it off, Kurt knows him. His name is Blaine. He goes to NYADA, same as him. It has been quoted by most of their professors and a huge portion of the student body that he’s one of the most uniquely talented and charismatic students NYADA has ever known.

And Kurt knows for a fact that the man is gay.

From the first day Kurt walked into school and saw him strumming his guitar, performing one of his original songs in the student commons, Kurt has been trying to work up the courage to ask him out. This might be the perfect time. He can stroll over to his booth, ask him if he needs a refill on his Coke, strike up a conversation, slide him a complimentary slice of cheesecake, and stealthily write his phone number on the customer copy of the receipt. In his head, it sounds like a rom-com in the making.

However, Kurt has hit a snag. This man, who for all intents and purposes Kurt could describe as perfect (or, at the very least, perfect for him), has started feeding bits of his tuna fish sandwich to the pocket of his hoodie.

Kurt sighs. Only in New York.

Why? Why is it always the handsome ones that turn out to be so bizarre?

Kurt figures he should consider cutting his losses, hand the man his check, and let him go on his way. They’ve only had a handful of conversations at school as it is. Blaine probably doesn’t even know Kurt exists apart from the fact that Blaine was the T.A. in the Intro to Mime workshop Kurt attended over Spring Break. Kurt tripped outside of his invisible box and bumped Blaine with his hip. They shared an awkward smile before Blaine went off to help another student tug on an invisible rope.

Not really the basis for a long-standing relationship.

But there’s something about the way Blaine looks down at the pocket he’s feeding, the soft smile on his lips, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes. Plus, he appears to be talking to it, or more to the point, cooing. Kurt is too curious, and before he makes the decision to stop pursuing his daydream of inviting this man out for coffee, he needs to know what’s so interesting about that pocket.

Blaine is a Musical Theater Major. That might explain a thing or two. They do tend to be an odd breed.

Kurt walks around the counter and heads for Blaine’s booth, hoping to catch him off guard. As he approaches, he cranes his neck to look over the seat, but his view of the pocket remains blocked by Blaine’s elbow.

“Hey there!” Kurt says, coming up behind him with still no luck for a decent view.

Blaine jumps. “Hey!” he says, clamping his hand carefully over his pocket, shielding it from Kurt’s view.

“So, are you just about done here?” Kurt gestures at the picked-apart food on the man’s plate and his empty soda glass.

“Uh … yeah. Yeah, I’d say so,” Blaine replies after a cursory glance at his table.

“Were you thinking about ordering any dessert today?” Kurt asks, stalling for the time he needs to come up with a way to unravel the mystery. “We have ten milkshake flavors, our Boston Cream pie is pretty popular, and we have an excellent New York-style cheesecake. Though, technically, I guess it would just be cheesecake since we’re in New York.” Kurt raises his eyebrows, hoping something he named sounds appetizing enough to make Blaine stick around a bit longer.

“No, not today, I think … uh …” Blaine gets distracted by his pocket when, to Kurt’s surprise, it squirms. “If I can just get the check … please?”

“Certainly,” Kurt says, politely ignoring the fact that Blaine’s pocket mewled. He takes a step away from the booth, but he can’t leave. He has to find out what’s in that pocket; he just has to. Of course, prying could kill his chances with Blaine, if he ever had any, but he can’t help himself. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but Kurt has to know.

“Hey,” he says, standing closer to the booth than usual, blocking other waiters’ view of Blaine and his pocket, “before I go, can I ask you a question?”

“Hmm?” Blaine says, a little tight, a little anxious

Kurt bends slightly to keep their conversation hush-hush. “What’s in your pocket?”

Blaine stares back at Kurt with an expression of severe discomfort. “Uh … in my … in my pocket? There’s nothing …”

“I promise, I won’t tell anyone,” Kurt whispers. He looks at Blaine with pleading eyes and an honest smile. “Please?”

Blaine sighs, a bit defeated, but he smiles back.

“Alright,” he says. “But I’m trusting you. Not a word?”

Kurt puts two fingers to his lips and makes a locking motion. “Mum’s the word. I swear.”

“Okay. It’s this little guy.” Blaine pulls down the lip of his pocket, and a puff of orange fur with bright green eyes peeks out. The kitten looks at Blaine, then straight up at Kurt, and lets out a soft but poignant, “Meow.”

“Oh my God!” Kurt gasps. “That is the cutest kitten I’ve ever seen!”

“Yes, he is,” Blaine agrees, baby talking to the tiny creature and giving it a scratch underneath its chin, which it lifts to accommodate him. “I found him a few days ago, cold and hungry, limping on the sidewalk outside my building. So I took him in and fed him. I was going to take him to a shelter, but I … I couldn’t do it.” Blaine gives Kurt a sheepish shrug. “I just picked him up from the vet this afternoon. He has a broken paw, so I couldn’t leave him at home to fend for himself.”

“Of course you couldn’t,” Kurt says, shaking his head emphatically.

“Unfortunately, I can’t keep him, either.”

Kurt’s head snaps from the precious ball of floof to Blaine’s gloomy face.

“Wha---why not?”

“My roommate,” Blaine explains. “She’s extremely allergic to cats.”

“Oh.” Kurt watches the kitten close its heavy eyelids, its head drooping as it drifts off to sleep, surrounded by the warmth and comfort of Blaine’s hoodie. “That’s … that’s too bad.”

“Yeah, it is,” Blaine says. “I don’t have anywhere else to take him. Most of my friends live in dorms, and they don’t allow animals. It looks like I might actually have to take him to a shelter after all.”

“No!” Kurt thinks fast when he imagines this poor kitten, stuck in a cage, shivering in the cold, alone with no one in the world to love and care for it. Kurt hasn’t been to a shelter before, so that’s actually probably the furthest thing from the truth, but it’s the first image that pops into his mind, and it sticks. “No, don’t do that! You know, my roommate and I have been discussing getting a cat ...”

“Really?” Blaine asks, his eyes lighting up.

“Sure.” Kurt bites his lower lip – something he does when he fibs, he’d recently discovered. But it’s not entirely a lie. He and Rachel had discussed it. She wanted to get a cat for the loft, name it Macavity, and make it their mascot. On holidays, she envisioned the three of them wearing coordinating outfits and performing festive musical numbers from the fire escape for their neighbors, whom she was certain would appreciate the whimsy. Kurt, on the other hand, said that any animal that pooped in an open box of sand had no business being in their home. But he’s not completely repulsed by the thought of a feline companion, to curl up beside him on the sofa during rainy days, or on his bedspread while he watched his late night Judy Garland marathons. This adorable munchkin, with his freckled nose and his melodious meow, might be just the cat to change his mind.

Besides, it came with the added bonus of a smitten former owner, who might be persuaded to stop by every once in a while.

“Plus, if you let me take this little guy home with me, then, you know, you could come by and visit him whenever you want.”

Blaine looks blankly at Kurt, and Kurt wonders if Blaine thought that last comment was too forward. Or maybe he has no clue who Kurt is, the way Kurt originally suspected.  

“You might not remember me,” Kurt says, swallowing his pride. It takes a rather large gulp to get it all down. “I go to NYADA, too. My name’s …”

“Kurt,” Blaine fills in.

“You---you know my name?” Kurt chuckles, shocked at hearing this man call him, unprompted, by name. Suddenly, Kurt remembers he’s in uniform. He puts a hand over the name sewn on his shirt.

“Oh,” he says. “I almost forgot. It’s on my …”

“Your name is Kurt Hummel,” Blaine interrupts. “You got into NYADA with an audition Carmen Tibideaux sprang on you during the Winter Showcase, probably because she knew you would blow everyone away. But that was your second audition, if I’m not mistaken.” Kurt feels himself blush at Blaine spouting off this information, as if he’s been composing the history of Kurt’s time at NYADA. “You also recently won Midnight Madness against your roommate, Rachel Berry - not that she stood half a chance, if I do say so myself. Yes, Kurt, I know exactly who you are.”

“Well, I …” Kurt stutters, then settles for dumbstruck silence. And to think he wasn’t sure that Blaine even knew he existed. “Alrighty then. So … what do you think?”

“I’ll need to take a look at your home environment before I make my decision. You know, to make sure it’s feline friendly,” Blaine replies, a teasing smile on his face. He takes his wallet out of his pocket one-handed and slips his credit card from the top slot. Kurt can’t stop staring, blown away by the enviable dexterity of his fingers. Blaine hands the card over to Kurt and winks.

He’s a guitarist, Kurt reminds himself. And a pianist … and a violinist.

There may be no limits to what those talented fingers can do ...

“Of---of course.” Kurt takes the card, forgetting that he hasn’t even given Blaine his check yet. “I get off in a few minutes. We can ride the subway together.”

“Sounds great! Thank you so much for offering to take the little guy in. It’s a tremendous relief.”

“You’re welcome,” Kurt says, heading for the register.

“And Kurt?” Blaine’s voice stops Kurt mid-step. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Funny you should say that, Kurt thinks to himself, fiddling with the card in his hand, because you may just be a life ruiner.

[franklyshipping]

Style ~ A Markiplier and Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

Requested by the lovely @amazingmsme and here we are going to have our glitchy boy doing a bit of dress up and Dark being immensely unamused by it, prep for le floof and romantic spoopy bois LET’S GO!

Anti was extremely pleased with himself. More specifically, he was extremely pleased with how he looked. Anti wasn’t really one for smart clothing, he always found that kind of attire way too restrictive for his liking. But this….this was different, this was an opportunity he just couldn’t miss. As soon as his eyes had caught it on the online store he knew he had to have it. So there he stood in front of the full length mirror, straightening up and turning at different angles so he could inspect himself properly. Anti had discarded his ripped black jeans and his t-shirt, which were strewn on the floor, since now he donned a suit. This suit was as dark as night and Anti loved how the material sat on his frame….but that wasn’t the only thing Anti loved. The suit may have been pitch black but on top of that, it was covered in a pattern…..of bright orange pumpkins.

Anti giggled a little as he looked over the jacket, pants, tie, all of it was patterned thus and Anti was enamoured. Given the season, it couldn’t have been more appropriate, and Anti loved his pumpkins; you could say that they were his thing. Anti’s grin was wide and gleeful as he did a light spin, before stopping for a moment. Anti peered at himself in the mirror….before deciding to place his hands behind his back, clasping his hands as he slowly tilted his head to one side. Essentially….he was coping Dark’s stance, and my god was it hilarious.  Anti was in a giggle fit for nearly a whole five minutes before he managed to calm himself down.

‘Oh gohohod….’

Anti grinned to himself, eyes glinting mischievously as he finally turned away from the mirror and set off in search of a certain gentleman. Anti thought he was going to have a lot of fun with this….oh if he only knew the outcome. He bounded through to the living room, and his eyes lit up when he saw his beautifully monochromatic boyfriend resting in an armchair, fingers steepled neatly upon his lap.

'Hey Darky! What do ya think of my Halloween costume?’

Dark had been resting, but at the sound of Anti’s voice his lips stretched into a light smile as he opened his eyes, curious to see what Anti had chosen. Needless to say….he was surprised. Dark stood, an expression of amusement and slight awe on his face as he looked Anti up and down.

'Where on earth did you find an outfit such as this?’

Anti giggled and shrugged.

'Oh y'know, the internet!’

Dark rolled his eyes, as if there was any other possible source. He paced towards Anti, smiling at his evident glee at the outfit….and Dark couldn’t help but observe how the smart clothing really suited Anti. It was tight, but not uncomfortable, and it accentuated his form beautifully.

'Why am I not surprised….’

Dark trailed off a little as he continued looking over Anti’s appearance. Said man felt himself blush lightly at the feeling of Dark’s eyes roaming over him, but he dismissed it for the moment.

'Ya haven’t guessed who I’m dressed up as yet!’

Dark snapped out of his slight daze, eyebrows furrowing at Anti’ statement. He was supposed to be someone? Hm….Dark couldn’t recall any particular characters that had such a unique style. He thought for a few more moments, but eventually let out a dramatic resigned sigh as he smiled.

'Oh I give up!’

Anti snickered, his eyes glinting more as his grin turned mischievous and cheeky. Dark knew something was coming from his expression alone, but that didn’t stop his face falling and his eyes narrowing beadily at Anti’s next words.

'I’m you!’

Anti let out a light giggle as Dark fell into his own stoic silence, his eyes flicked over Anti’s attire before flicking up to his face, which currently was filled with amusement. Dark hesitated, taking in a breath as he straightened up, speaking his words with measure and calmness.

'Never…..in my entire life, have I even thought about wearing something like that.’

Anti grinned wider at Dark’s tense, and almost warning tone, the green haired man stepped forward more so he and Dark were properly face to face.

'But it’s so accurate, can’t you see it? It’s uptight and brooding, which are the two things that sum you up!’

Dark was frozen. Processing Anti’s words. How dare he be so upfront? And yet Dark couldn’t really have expected anything less, Anti wasn’t scared of him after all….but that never stopped Dark from trying. Said man tilted his head to the side as he clasped his hands at the small of his own back, Dark sneered gently as he leant forward. He and Anti were practically nose to nose, the latter seemed rather excited at that prospect.

'Take back your words….now.’

Dark’s voice left him in the form of a growl, which only made Anti smirk and raise an eyebrow.

'Or what?’

Dark smiled. It was wide, gleeful…..and also slightly feral.

'Or….I shall simply force you.’

Dark suddenly reached forward to wrap his arms round Anti’s waist so he could hoist him up onto his shoulder, and Dark grinned in satisfaction at the surprised yip he drew from Anti which was swiftly followed by his indignant protests.

'HEY! Put me down ya asshole!’

Dark chuckled, purposefully jostling Anti roughly as he walked over to the couch in the room whilst he relished in his noises of annoyance and frustration.

'As you wish darling.’

Anti yelped as Dark threw him and didn’t hesitate to manhandle and pin him to the couch, using his hands to pin Anti wrists either side of his head as he lay on top of him; his smirk at this point was unmatchable, whilst Anti was glaring half-heartedly.

'You’re a colossal dick!’

Dark raised an eyebrow at this boyfriend’s little insults, as a result he leant down so that that his lips brushed the shell of Anti’s ear as he whispered.

'Is that any way to speak to your captor?’

Anti couldn’t stop the gentle shiver sneaking down his spine, and he had to nibble his lip a little to repress any more embarrassing noises, and he thought that he’d be able to do that perfectly easily….but that was before Dark started nuzzling.

’D-daharky d-don’t you d-dahahahare!’

Anti tried to repress his giggling, but it was impossible. The feeling of Dark’s rough stubble brushing and scratching at the side of his neck was torturously tickly, as Dark well knew, and thus caused Anti’s light bubbly giggles to burst from him. All the while Dark smirked and whispered.

'This doesn’t have to get any worse baby, all you need to do is take it baaack…..’

Dark’s words melted in his ears and Anti could honestly see the appeal….except he was Antisepticeye, he wasn’t known for giving in easily. Now was no different.

'Ihihihi’ll nehever dohoho ihit!’

Dark’s smirk widened, oh how he loved Anti’s determined rebelliousness. He growled lowly into Anti’s ear.

'We’ll see darling…..we’ll see….’

Without any further ado, Dark too a deep breath before unleashing a truly monstrous raspberry right into the crook of Anti’s neck, making said man shriek and squeal as he giggled frantically.

'NAHAHahahaha dohon’t doho thahahat!!’

Anti whined amidst his mirth as Dark chuckled into his neck, placing a few soft kisses up and down the sensitive area as he whispered.

'Why ever not? Ohhhh….is it because you happen to be unbearably ticklish?’

Anti let out an embarrassed squeak when Dark nipped his neck sharply before rearing up, an amused and teasing shine resting in his rusted irises as he looked at Anti expectantly. The latter gulped and gritted his teeth gently.

'N-nohoho……’

Dark simply raised an eyebrow which made Anti flush a little darker as he averted his eyes with a lightly defiant glare.

'In denial? I’ll soon remedy that.’

No sooner had he spoken, Dark’s hands had suddenly shot from holding Anti’s wrists to instead start scratching and scribbling in the hollows of his underarms. As you can imagine, this rather took Anti by surprise as his eyes widened.

'AHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHO YOHOHOU DIHIHIHICK!’

Anti immediately tried to bring his arms down, but that only trapped Dark’s devious metatarsals which continued to wriggle ruthlessly. Since Dark had managed to slip his hands beneath the jacket Anti wore, that meant he had nothing to really protect him against the onslaught.

'Awwww, can’t you escape? It must be simply maddening…..’

Dark cooed at his victim who, as well as his wide grin, also sported a beautiful forest green blush on his cheeks as he writhed about and tried to hit out at his teasing tormentor.

'SHUHUHUHUHUT UHUHUHUP!!’

Dark merely chuckled at Anti’s protests, wrenching his hands free so that he could press and massage over Anti’s ribcage, causing a plethora of cackles to erupt.

'Oho yes I almost forgot, how embarrassed you get….especially if someone teases about how awwwfully ticklish you are.' 

Dark drawled as he massaged the bones relentlessly, grinning as Anti’s flush darkened and little yips and snorts jumped from his lips sporadically. Anti was now only mildly beginning to regret the decisions he’d made that had led up to this….encounter.

'FUHUHUHUCK YOHOHOHOU!!’

Anti exclaimed as he squirmed wildly, Dark however gasped dramatically with a gentle smirk on his lips.

'Such rude and dirty language, you really ought to be punished my dear….’

Amidst his words Dark had lightened his touch so that Anti was still encased in giggles, but he had a good degree of coherency. Anti made sure to take advantage of this brief opportunity by shaking his head in earnest whilst babbling quickly and nervously.

'Nononoho thehere’s no neheed Ihi’m saharry Daharky!’

Anti had a good reason to be nervous. Being in a romantic relationship with Dark had endless perks and instances of happiness, but one slight disadvantage was that Dark knew every little thing about him. His favourite colour or food were things that Anti was perfectly fine with him knowing…..but information like the ticklish spots on his body that could turn him to a hysterical mess, Anti would maybe have preferred it if Dark didn’t have access to that knowledge. Maybe. Dar smiled down at him, it was a kinder smile due to how Anti had reverted to using his nickname for Dark but he still leant over his boyfriend with a hint of menace.

'All you have to do….is take back what you said. That’s all you need to do….’

Anti jumped as Dark’s fingers started to curl and uncurl, whilst slowly making their way down to Anti’s sides. His eyes began to slowly widen as his mind raced. He had a choice. He could either say what Dark wanted and save himself, but lose some of his pride in the process, or he could resist and end up being tickle tortured. There was no choice, Anti’s pride was just too goddamn big. He grinned a little.

'Cahareful Dark yohou’re gonna crease it! How will you wear it in the future if you mess it up now?’

Dark paused. He should’ve known that Anti would never sacrifice his pride, it was truly admirable to be perfectly honest…..and it was the response that Dark had been secretly hoping for. He took in a deep breath, before letting it out in a long and gentle sigh as he began to shake his head, small tuts leaving his lips as he observed Anti.

'Oh Anti…..my stubborn little Anti…..’

Dark’s hands seemed to wander and roam over Anti’s torso, before they both rested and nestled on top of Anti’s sides. Anti was fucked, and his widening eyes showed Dark that he knew it. Dark leant down to whisper in Anti’s ear, thus meaning said man could no longer see where Dark’s hands were as a result.

'You never learn do you?’

Anti was preparing for a torturous feeling on his sides….but none came. Dark had, in fact, decided to suddenly shoot his hands behind him so that he could effectively pinch and scratch at the flesh of Anti’s thighs. The owner of which let out a beautiful plethora of embarrassing snorts and splutters before descending into squeaky laughter.

'AHAHAHA WHAHAHAHAT THE HEHEHELL?! YOHOHOU AHAHASS!!’

Anti writhed about as Dark chuckled gently, letting his hands do all the work so he could gaze at his stunningly sensitive boyfriend. Dark let his eyes rake over Anti’s beautiful and unique blush, and smiled widely in response to the maniacal and mirth filled grin that Anti wore. He really was a handsome devil.

'God….how are you handsome even when you’re being tickled to hysterics?’

Anti couldn’t really respond effectively, but Dark wasn’t really asking, he was just releasing the incredulousness he felt regarding how Anti could be so perfect in his eyes.

'IHIHIHI AHAHAHAM NAHAHAHAHAT!!’

Dark jumped with a grin and quickly decided to snap out of his enamoured stupor so he could focus on the task at hand, he could feel it coming to a close so he figured he’d make the most of it. Anti was blushing a lot harder now and his eyes were flicking about constantly as he did everything to avoid Dark’s teasing gaze. Dark whispered again.

'Oh yes you are, I don’t think a more handsome image has ever existed…..’

The meaningful compliment certainly took Anti off guard, especially due to how it contrasted with the playful torture Dark was inflicting upon him….but it affected Anti nonetheless as he spluttered and clamped his lips shut to try and prevent his voice from betraying him. Dark chuckled at him as he lightened his tickly touch finally….he did consider moving his hands back to Anti’s torso, to torture his worst spot….but Dark realised that it wasn’t always necessary to end with the worst. Sometimes ending with a nice moment can be just as fun, if a little more profound and exquisite.

'Yohohou’re suhuch a meanie…..’

Dark grinned at Anti’s mumbled words, leaning down with a satisfied hum so he could peck Anti’s cheek softly.

'And you’re a cheeky little handsome shit….’

Anti grinned lightly, giggling at the light affection that Dark gave him.

'Why thahank you….’

Dark sighed but smiled widely, and decided to help Anti sit up as said man straightened up and uncreased the jacket he wore. There was a small moment of silence in which Anti caught his breath fully, but after that he turned to Dark with a small smirk.

'So…..do ya like my costume or not?’

Dark narrowed his eyes, but settled for a light growl-like sigh as he mumbled.

’…..yes.’

Anti giggled as Dark buried his face in the crook of his neck, just so he could casually kiss affectionately. I feel like that’s what it’s like being a part of a couple, it’s an excuse to give and receive all manner of affections without it being questioned. I like that analogy.

OUTFIT REFERENCE IS HERE AAAAaaaand YUP! I hope you lovely people liked this AND I LUV YOOOOUS XX

[chaekkung]

top 5 hyungwon looks

ok this is really hard considering legit every hw look is a top look :/

i scrolled thru like 3k pics and picked a few of my faves under the cut!!

(soft….. cuddly.. warm… the layering of this is SO GOOD)

(my top blonde hw look… god this is so h*t)

(hyungwon in his color. he invented the color white. he’s wearing all white with a diamond choker holy shit what more can anyone ask for..)

(this???? eveyrthing about this? beautiful. his contacts, choker, and silky shirt….. big nut..)

(this!! actor chae! please.. he literally the cutest and most talented boy ever.. also he looked extra tol in this outfit… and i have a thing with him and turtlenecks……) 

(GOD CAN I JUST SAY??? TOP SHINE FOREVER LOOKS???? LIKE HE JUST CHANGED INTO A PLAIN BLACK TEE BUT HOLY SHIT HE LOOKS AMAZING……… AND SO CASUAL AND BF… UGH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH)

(ok this look. top beautiful look. i really cried this day because of how amazing he looked…. the glasses and outfit?? the sweater draped around his neck just made everything 100000x softer… ugh)

(FIGHTER HAD SO MANY GOOD LOOKS… BUT I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. idk why???? he looks so soft and comfy and??? playful?? idk how to describe it but i really loved this look)

(ok wtf i dont even need to say anything about this one….. lord have mercy on my soul this is the biggest fucking nut… his outfit.. his hair.. his gaze……. he looks fucking amazing i really nutted like 10 gallons..)

(sakjfdhjsak this SOFT ASS BOYFRiEND BIG SWEATER + PLAID SHIRT INSIDE LOOK….. omg he was so SOFT. like. charmin soft. ultra soft. super duper soft. i want to hug him so bad and floof his hair ….. babie… )

(ok this was recent but this flew up on my top looks already i mean wholy shit look at him?? the white shirt+black tie but like his HUGE plaid shirt over it?????? omg?????????? he looks so fucking cute….)

ok yeah let me stop,,, at this point im rlly about to send every hw pic in existence but seriously guys!! all his looks are god tier… he looks amazing in everything and i want to cry about it all….

(if anyone actually read and looked at all of this wow alsdjsk i would die for u,,,)

AND SORRY TO ANYONE ON MY BLOG WHO HAS TO SCROLL PAST THIS SKDJFBGA I TRIED TO KEEP IT SHORT :(((

[twinklephoenix]

Phoenixtale Project not a Au Facts and Changes

Heads up: Sorry for bad grammar/spelling, so on and so forth...

Firstly: A lot of people will assume anything, and I mean anything that has the word 'tale' in it is a part of the Undertale fandom. Now I must make this fact very clear: My Phoenixtale Project isn't an AU, it is a story based around OC's and the multiverse. In fact, over the last 2-3 months I've been debating if I wanted to keep all of the multiverse in and as time went on I've seen many things happen in our fandom, in our very community, and much like many others I've started to question if I really want to keep my characters here.

So let me explain: Out of all of my characters there are just three which have caused a misinterpretation on purpose to hide what they really are. Emperor isn't a Sans. He looked like one to hide what his species was since they were hunted to extinction. So due to me wanting to stop the confusion and to move my characters to what they were meant to be the whole time, these three will change appearance: Emperor, Vortex and Gabi (but not much).

As for the project; it will be called Phoenix Project or Canon Multiverse. It's still a work in progress. Why Canon you ask? Simply because the characters that appear will be based on and will act as they were meant to be. The best example for this will be Paperjam, since PJ and my own characters have something in common. Just like mine, PJ isn't a skeleton. He has his own species. Mine are not the same species as PJ though. The biggest clue was in my name and the project's name. Many didn't pick up on it. Anyway, back to the point at hand.

All characters who will appear in it will be kept to their canon personality and story. That goes for pairings too. This story has nothing to do with Frisk or the Undertale that inspired so many people to create their own characters. This is something very different. I will be focusing on my side blog where Artic and Valor are, along with some others. I will be revealing what they are over on Artic's blog. Yes, the project will still feature the multiverse but none of mine are from an AU and they are not skeletons.

Some facts about my characters,

Should you touch their head, you'll find it is soft and has very small thinly placed fur/feathers to it. It isn't really made of bone, it just looks that way.

 Never poke their eyes. They do have eyeballs, but the white of their eyes is always black. They do not have magic eyes like skeletons. They glow for another reason and do have eyelids, so they do have to blink.

 They can bleed and do have organs but they will not die easily. You need to destroy something first, along with two other important organs.

 A skeletal form is much easier to make than one with flesh. To gain that ability they would need to devour something living before their body can create an illusion that looks like a living thing.

 They can get what is called 'blood rage'. Their species is forbidden to devour blood or kill any of their own kind, as it can turn them feral and they will not be able to tell friend from foe.

 They only mate/bond once in their lives. They will never bond with anyone else. Once mated, you're stuck with them. A special bond is made which, if broken, can kill them. They only give their heart once and can die if it's broken.

All of their kind have wings. Even the halflings do but a rare few can hide them. Any and all feathers and fluff are sensitive, since it is a part of them, not some decoration on their clothes. The floof itself is a part of their true form, so try not to be too rough with it.

They cannot lie. If they do, they will bleed. Only corrupted ones of their kind can do such a thing without getting physically affected.

Should you bond with one, your own appearance will change and you'll become a halfling, gaining some of their abilities along with wings and a crest. This varies between pairings depending on how strong the bond is or how they affect each other.

they may look skeletal but are not. They are a completely different species. I would say what they are but that would be spoilers. I'll let Artic answer that one. 

All of them have tails, including Artic. The tail will sometimes look like a part of the outfit, but as I said: nothing you see is what it seems, this is just an illusion. If you touch the part that looks like a tail it will move. It can also bleed and will react to you. 

These are just some of the facts about them, not all. I will make a full list at another time. Either way, here are just some of our non-skeletons. They may look like skeletons but they are not what they seem. 

Valor & Stardust (Canon Ship/ Pairing) -Bonded 

Much like Galaxy Stardust has always had his head markings and his wings that is nor from bonding 

Stardust his appearance before he met valor -  https://ladysuika.tumblr.com/post/156444978702/missladytale-i-rarely-draw-new-skellies-because

Artic & GalaxyLight (Canon Ship/Pairing) -Bonded

please note this here is Galaxy has always had wings and the diamond markings on his head this lead Artic to first mistake him for one of his kind. 

GalaxyLight how he first appears before he met Artic  - https://ladysuika.tumblr.com/post/156002666587/i-need-to-draw-a-better-picture-of-stardust-to?is_related_post=1

Blizzard (no spoilers youll all have to wait for him to show up)

Precious  @purlywhite colored this one for me (She has yet to appear but will) 

These are just some examples Artic and Valor can be found over on  @articfrozenstar so you can ask them questions.

Artic , Valor ,Blizzard  & Precious  belongs to @twinklephoenix (me)

Stardust & GalaxyLight belong to @missladytale

Paperjam mentioned  belongs to @7goodangel

Also thank you to @purlywhite  who helped with the grammer and spelling XD 

That is all from me all hail the post i  was working on for over  2 days seriously took 2 days to make this and find the right words,Anyway hope that finally clears up some stuff.  My characters are not from an AU Emperor has been lying the whole time and will be getting a redesign thank you everyone for all your support and for all the adorable fan art ill also be hoping to return to doing videos before long a lot has been happening in real life. 

Ill be making a brand new blog for the gang soon. 

If you have any questions feel free to ask me also hoping paperjam was a good example to explain what im trying to say.