#everything comes with a prize is what makes him rational

[erabu-san]

What kind of Introvert is Kinich do you think?

The introvert that is shy of People or "eww people?" 🤔

HMMM I don't believe he is shy, but it doesn't mean he dislikes people

It is kind of canon that he felt sometime alone, because he had no friends 😭 i think it is more "huh. People can't deal with me. Welp... that's how it is" his straightforwardness, rational thought and impassive face clearly doesn't help him. He talks only when he thinks it is necessary ??

[solxamber]

Yours to Keep — Rollo Flamme x reader

Rollo is calm, collected and confident. Jealous? Rollo Flamme? No way! ...unless?

Rollo Week D6!

You’re walking through the sun-dappled streets with Rollo, your hand brushing his occasionally as you stroll side by side. The warmth of your newfound relationship hums in the air, making the world seem a little brighter. You’ve worked hard to get here—after all, Rollo was no easy conquest. But now, here you are, together at last, content in each other's company.

As you walk, you spot an old friend from the academy. A wide grin spreads across your face as you jog over to greet them. "Hey! Long time no see!" you exclaim, excitedly launching into conversation, catching up on all the things you’ve missed. Your laughter rings out as your friend cracks a joke, and just for a moment, it's feels like you forgot Rollo's presence.

Meanwhile, Rollo stands a few paces away, hands clasped behind his back, quietly observing. At first, he’s patient—he knows you’re social, that you light up a room with your enthusiasm. But as the conversation stretches on, his chest tightens.

The more you laugh, the more a gnawing feeling builds inside him. He knows he’s not the most entertaining person in your life—certainly not someone who could make you laugh so freely. And seeing you enjoy someone else's company like this stirs something bitter within him.

He lowers his gaze, struggling to keep his composure. It’s irrational to feel this way, he tells himself. But no amount of rationalization can quell the jealousy tightening around his heart. With a deep breath, he steps forward, the hurt creeping into his tone despite his best efforts to hide it. "I’ll be at the dorm," he says, as politely as he can manage. "Please... come when you’re done."

You blink, surprised by the sudden shift in his demeanor. There’s something off in his voice, something pained. As your friend waves goodbye and heads off, you turn back toward Rollo, concern furrowing your brow. You quickly close the distance between you and him, jogging after him until you catch his hand in yours. "Hey," you call softly, gently squeezing his hand. "What’s wrong?"

Rollo doesn’t answer immediately, his jaw tightening as you walk together. He tries to hide his vulnerability, but it’s impossible now that you’re so attuned to his every shift in mood. You reach the dorm in silence, but the tension lingers, unspoken.

Once inside, you tug him into a soft embrace, arms wrapping around him tightly. He stiffens at first, caught off guard by your sudden affection, but then slowly, he melts into your touch, resting his head against your shoulder. His voice, when he finally speaks, is low and hesitant. "I’m afraid," he admits, the words barely above a whisper. "I’m afraid that now that you’ve... won me, you’ll lose interest. That I’ll be—" He hesitates, voice cracking with insecurity. "That I’ll be a disappointment."

You pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands still holding him close. "Rollo," you begin, your voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "The chase was fun, sure. But you’re not some prize I just wanted to win and leave behind. You’re everything to me." You reach up, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "You’re not a disappointment, and I didn’t pursue you just for the thrill. I pursued you because I care about you. I want you. And being with you now, like this, is even better than the chase."

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he’s speechless. The vulnerability in his expression makes your heart ache—he's spent so long guarding himself that the idea of being genuinely wanted still seems foreign to him. Slowly, though, a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips, the tension in his shoulders easing as your words sink in.

"You really mean that?" he asks, his voice still carrying the faintest hint of doubt.

"Of course I do," you reply, cupping his cheek gently. "You’re stuck with me now."

He lets out a soft chuckle, the sound of his relief palpable. He leans into your touch, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. "I’m... grateful for you," he murmurs, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. "More than you know."

The two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other's warmth, the earlier tension melting away into something more intimate. You sway slightly in place, still holding each other, and when Rollo finally pulls back, there's a new sense of ease between you.

"Okay," you say, breaking the comfortable silence with a teasing grin. "Now that we’ve gotten all the serious stuff out of the way... I think you owe me some cuddles for putting me through that emotional rollercoaster."

Rollo’s cheeks flush, but he doesn’t protest. Instead, he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you once again, this time without hesitation. "If that’s what you want," he says, his voice just shy of playful.

You smile against his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and calm beneath your cheek. "Always."

And just like that, the two of you sink into a comfortable rhythm, finding peace in the simple act of being together—no more chasing, no more doubts. Just you and him, perfectly content.

Masterlist

[becca-e-barnes]

heyy!! can you do a dbf bucky caught masturbating? only if u wanna obv~!

No honestly bc the thought of a man masturbating is way too hot, it makes me so weak 🥵

I've probably talked about this before but it's delightful to imagine him staying over in the guest room of your house for a while and when he thinks the house is empty, he's taking some time for ✨self care✨, not knowing that you're still home.

I always imagine he's so vocal too so when he thinks he can be as loud as he wants, he doesn't hold back.

He's surprised at how badly he needs this, taking his time at first with just a few leisurely strokes. He's rock hard in no time, his hand wrapped around his own length, doing everything he can not to think about you.

Fuck, it would be so wrong to think about you. He knows it would. It's wrong to think about kissing up your bare legs or sucking bruises over your collarbones. It's wrong to imagine how you'd look on your knees for him, begging him to finish on your face.

No matter what he does, that's all his brain wants to come back to. He can almost hear how sweet your little moans would be when he rubs your clit.

You'd be such a good girl for him. He knows that and he loves it.

There's no harm in letting himself give in a little. As he gets hornier, precum drips from his tip and he's only focused on imagining how gorgeous you'd look beneath him, lost in pleasure the way he is.

He hadn't even considered that you might still be home. As far as he knew, you were planning to go out with your parents so he was safe to groan your name the way he wanted to.

Heat pools between your legs at the sight of him on the bed in front of you. The guest room door hadn't been pulled shut completely and when curiosity got the better of you, you were beyond surprised to see Bucky laid out on the bed, stroking his own cock and whining your name.

"Such a good fucking girl for me." His voice was loud enough that you could hear every word.

His hand moved faster, soft breathy moans tumbling from his lips and hanging in the air.

Your panties were soaked. Rational thought had all but left you. Pure need buzzed in the pit of your stomach and there was no doubt in your mind that you'd summon this image of Bucky every single time you felt like touching yourself for at least the next 3 months.

The decision seemed to come naturally to you and before you'd really thought about it, you'd pressed the door open and stepped inside, settling on the end of the bed.

Bucky sounded startled. Understandably. His cheeks were flushed, desperately trying to cover himself and make apologies at the same time.

"Bucky, please." You almost sounded timid while you prized the blanket from his grasp. "Can I taste you?"

He swore he had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real. You weren't actually asking that right after he'd spent so long imagining it. Is this how manifesting works?

"Are you sure?" He asked, not missing the way his dick throbbed when you nodded enthusiastically.

Bucky pulled the blanket back, grasping his dick again, stroking slowly. He swore he'd never forget the sight of your tongue pressed to the tip of his cock, looking up at him before you swirled your tongue around the head, gathering as much precum as you could.

"Oh fuck, that's it. Such a good girl for me, holy shit." He's lost in the feeling and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even if he wanted to.

Your lips wrap around his tip, sucking gently while he continues to stroke himself and he swears he's going to lose it. You hum your approval at a fresh bead of precum gathering over his tip but it's not there very long before you've licked that up too.

He forces himself not to imagine how pretty you'd look with your tongue or your face painted with his cum because if he does, this is over. He's determined to make that a reality but not just yet.

[sugar-crash]

🍬King Candy (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader👑

(Game Hopping Loser Reader Edition!)

(Picture’s not mine!)

(Request’s here! Alright so, this my first ever request to have such detail! I love it honestly, gives me a far clearer idea of what to do and not feel like I’m pulling stuff out of my ass.)

- No offense but I think when you get found out at first he considers you a fucking pest and a copycat, a drowned rat that ended up on his turf.

- Some MAJOR negotiation skills are needed to convince him to keep you there, and even then he throws you into the fungeon and makes Sour Bill swear to keep your presence on the low, which horrifies the poor sour drop into compliance like he usually does.

- I think he’d visit you specifically to taunt you at first, smugly dangling freedom like a carrot over your head like you’re a prized race pig, giving you that idea that he is not the benevolent king he portrays himself as till you eventually realize he isn’t what he says he is.

- He’s far too overzealous for his own good on top of that and I think in some way or another he lets it slip that he doesn’t even belong to Sugar Rush and has too much information about the arcade in its early-early days and it sparks a deal between you two that you won’t squeal in exchange for several things, like freedom, a disguise, etc…

- He keeps everything on the down low when he does it, making you help him every step of the way because Sour Bill could become a liability if he sees too much, simply telling his little assistant he finally decided to let you go.

- He really fucking hates you at first, something about you aggravates him to no end but he has to refrain from being too expressive with his hatred over you so his joyous and sweet persona is maintained.

- You act too much like him, it’s what he both loathes but slowly comes to love about you, as low as he thinks of you I think a part of him is finally relieved to have someone who acts and thinks like him to rationalize his actions.

- He gets a sense of superiority from how “better” he was at bending the reality of Sugar Rush to his command over you, you have to settle for being less than, even with your dirt on him he still has control.

- That power dynamic doesn’t exactly melt away when you guys begin having romantic feelings for one another, those soft moments between you two having that underlying edge to them that you two never seem to shake away.

- There’s a kind of shaky trust between you two, which is supported by what you know about one another, that agreement keeping you both tied to one another to the point where you two start dating.

- Much like everything else it’s a secret you both have for a long while, fleeting touches and private displays of affection that are well hidden and kept under lock and key before you two announce it in the most grandiose way possible.

- Secrets are great and all, with you two having more than you can count, but they can be rather exhausting to maintain, so becoming an actual couple in the eyes of Sugar Rush seemed like the only way you guys could be able to be there for one another.

- You guys both trust and distrust one another in a way that can’t be duplicated anywhere else, there’s both discord and harmony in the way you guys are— But still greatly dysfunctional.

- I think he tries to make himself believe that what you two have is born from convenience, I mean, gets less suspicion on him if he shows himself to have a cutesy and picturesque relationship with someone just as friendly-looking, the same thing with you—

- But it’s pretty obvious it isn’t, as much as you both probably deny it, that selfishness you both share being your strength and folly.

- Does have the habit of getting easily frustrated with you when you slip into, that “Stick to the program” mantra that was hard-coded into gaining another meaning as you two try to do hard to keep your places in Sugar Rush.

- Evil enabler couple that make each other WORSE!!

- You two perpetuate that god-awful behavior and make it even worse, helping one another with your shared charades, keeping those candy citizens and children racers oblivious about your true natures, like having a false alibi for one another when something goes awry.

- And going awry it does, literally, in the worst way possible, like doomsday kind of awry.

- Secrets can be kept for only so long after all, and you two are package deal for that downfall.

(Fvb'yl ivao h spaasl zabwpk il fvb nbfz nva aol zwpypa.)

[somedaylazysomeday]

Experiment - Part Two

Tech x fem!reader

Tech decides to prove how simple female bodies can be.

Can be considered a second part to my one-shot 'Experiment', but can also be read as a stand-alone work.

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3,800

Warnings: Antagonism, ill-advised bets, assumptions about females, mentions of sexual behavior, sexual touching, fingering, unprotected piv sex, creampie

Previous | Masterlist

---

It wasn’t rare, per se, that you and Tech found yourselves alone. 

Your relationship could be contentious, but it wasn’t anything bad enough that you needed to keep a referee on hand. You found him slightly grating and he thought you were oblivious at times. You also vented some of that low-level irritation by sleeping together every so often, but you had never decided to be anything close to exclusive. 

That being said, Clone Force 99 was busy enough that neither of you had much time for finding another partner. It had been a particularly bad dry spell for you. Which was why you were unashamedly eavesdropping on a few troopers behind you in a market on Savareen.

“Anyway, I told her I wanted to bring someone else with us and she freaked out,” one of the troopers was telling his friends. “She said I wasn’t even good enough to keep her happy, let alone two people at the same time. Can you believe that? Not my fault that making her come is harder than defusing a det on a countdown timer”

Thankfully, you were facing the other direction, because that made you grin broadly. From everything you had heard so far, the relayed statement from the trooper’s girlfriend had been harsh but true. The trooper was a remarkably selfish lover if his stories were to be believed. Personally, you thought the girlfriend had a point. 

“Are you almost finished?” Tech asked. “We need to return to the ship.”

“Shhh!” you hissed. “I want to hear how this plays out.”

You couldn’t be sure whether the troopers had heard you or if they simply weren’t bold enough to tell their friend that his girlfriend was right. In any case, the only answer they offered was a simple, “That sucks, man.”

“Yeah,” the other agreed. “Females are a mystery.”

“We will miss our rendezvous,” Tech warned. 

You huffed at him and went to pay for the basket of produce you were holding. After weeks of nothing but rations, the prospect of fresh fruit and vegetables was something you couldn’t turn down. Still, you were irritated at losing your stolen entertainment and you glared at Tech when he fell into step with you on your way back toward the Havoc Marauder. 

“I don’t know why you were rushing me,” you said eventually. You were passing the last of the small town’s buildings and the forest grew thicker around you. “Hunter sent a comm that the window needed to be pushed back by an hour. They won’t be at the rendezvous for at least two hours and we’re not that far from the ship.” 

“And I don’t know why you were so eager to continue listening to those regs.” Tech shook his head. “It was hardly an interesting story, especially given the trite and untrue assurances at the end. Females are hardly a mystery.” 

Your jaw twitched. “And what exactly does that mean?” 

“Females across most species barriers share several characteristics,” he spouted instantly. “The majority of them prefer to be listened to rather than have their problems solved, prize social bonds rather than holding leverage over others, and are often capable of more complex, circuitous thinking than most males.” 

“They were talking about female bodies, Tech.” 

Tech fell quiet at that. You gloated for a moment, happy to have silenced him for once, but it didn’t last. Apparently, he had needed a moment to consider that, but came back with a reply soon enough: 

“There are too many species to narrow down what he was talking about. Different species have different physiology, and need different stimulation to achieve pleasure.” He adjusted his goggles, and you could see the brightness of his eyes behind them. “For instance, did you know that female Dianogas derive pleasure only from having the pressure in their eyeball increased by a factor of twenty percent?” 

You nodded slowly. “Gross.” 

Tech had been preening at his masterful display of knowledge, but his expression dropped into one of derision when you failed to be as impressed as he thought you should be. “It is far more complex a system than is possessed by most species. Humanoid species are all similar. And human females are the least complex of all.” 

That sounded as if you were being challenged. With the frustration stemming from your recent dry spell and the general irritation of being around Tech when he was in one of his ‘I am the god of all knowledge’ moods, you accepted that challenge. “Go on.” 

“Human females share close similarities to each other, likely stemming from a narrow evolutionary path. Even ignoring the genitals, human females have a set of several extragenital erogenous zones. They are, in descending order: breasts, lips, neck, ears, and buttocks(1).” 

You rolled your eyes, readjusting where your bag sat on your shoulder. “That’s ridiculous. Not everyone likes having all of those places touched.” 

“Not everyone, but a majority,” Tech expanded. “And the type of stimulation can vary between each place. For example, lips are best stimulated orally while breasts can be stimulated either orally or manually. That means manipulated by hand.” 

You hissed at the condescending explanation, but he paid no attention to you. Tech could get this way when he was convinced that someone would benefit from his knowledge. “And that is not taking the actual genitals into account. The human clitoris has over ten thousand nerve fibers, some of which extend into the vaginal channel to form what is known as the g-spot.” 

“I already knew all of this, Tech,” you bit out. Okay, maybe you hadn’t known the exact number of nerve fibers in the average clit, but you didn’t appreciate being lectured on your own body. 

Tech turned to you, raising his eyebrows. “And yet you believed those troopers were correct when they said human females were a mystery. There is nothing mysterious about the body of the human female. If given the proper stimulation, most human females can reach orgasm in under three minutes.” 

“That can’t possibly be true.”

“Are you doubting the research or my knowledge of it?” 

“Are you admitting that you’ve done research into how quickly you can make someone come?” you countered. 

“Of course.” Tech was, as ever, matter-of-fact. “And you personally have benefitted from my research. Yet you still doubt whether I’m correct.”

“I’ve been with some talented people,” you said, making sure to emphasize the plurality so he wouldn’t think you were solely talking about him, “but I’ve never come in less than three minutes. So, according to my personal experience, you’re wrong.” 

“I am not wrong,” Tech disagreed, clearly appalled. “If you don’t believe me, that is your choice, but I am not incorrect.” 

You didn’t answer him, relieved when you saw the Havoc Marauder just ahead. As you had expected, you had plenty of time before you needed to go meet the others, but that meant you could put away the provisions and get some time away from Tech until he started to annoy you less. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem capable of letting your disagreement lie. He followed you as you went to the storage room where you kept the rations. “The research is simple and well-supported. Even if you ignore anecdotal evidence, there are clear trends that prove-”

“Tech, can we just let this go?” you asked, trying not to sound overly antagonistic. “We can just agree to have our different opinions.”

“It is not a matter of opinion,” he insisted. “There is a single answer, supported by science, research, and experimentation. I can prove it to you.” 

That made you pause and turn to him. “What? What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Allow me to prove that I am correct,” Tech repeated. 

That was not enough of an answer, so you watched him in silence. There was a strong chance that he meant to show you the papers and studies where he had gathered his information. 

When you didn’t agree, Tech apparently decided to offer more of an explanation: “If you agree, I will use the knowledge I’ve gained to bring you to orgasm in under three minutes.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea-” you started. 

“I understand it can be frightening to have one’s worldview challenged-”

“Yeah, I’m terrified of an orgasm.” The sarcasm was thick in your voice. “You know what? Fine. And when you’re wrong, you’ll have to admit that your research wasn’t as effective as first-hand experience.”

“I look forward to proving you wrong.” Tech took the bag from your shoulder, tucking it neatly inside of the (little-used) produce cabinet in the ration storage room. He latched the cabinet with sure motions, turning expectantly to you when he was finished.

“Bunks,” you suggested. He inclined his head in agreement and followed you to the small barracks aboard the ship.

You shoved aside your sheets and the discarded clothing that was still tangled in them. When you had woken up, it had seemed impossible that you would be bringing anyone back to your bunk, so you hadn’t bothered keeping anything neater than they needed to be. Tech was more than a little messy, himself, so you didn’t worry that he would look down on you for it. 

“How do you want to do this?” you asked, hesitating before you climbed onto the mattress. 

“I do not believe that you undressing should count toward my time,” he pointed out. 

“Fair enough,” you agreed, stripping quickly. You had been dressed casually to visit the nearby market, so the process didn’t take long. When you were naked, you rested your hands on your hips and tilted your chin at Tech. “Next?” 

Tech swallowed hard, like the sight of your bare body had made his mouth go dry. It was a heady feeling, and your confidence soared. 

“Remember what I told you about extragenital erogenous zones?” Tech asked, switching into lecture mode. 

“Yes,” you agreed, adding, “which is not an attractive term, so I don’t think you’re helping your own case, here.” 

“The attractiveness of the term is not what matters.” Tech stepped closer, hand rising. “The important thing is how they impact you.” 

You opened your mouth to loose a sarcastic comment, but stopped short at the feeling of Tech’s fingertips brushing lightly against your bottom lip.

It was… odd, having someone touch your mouth. But the warmth and familiar smell of Tech's skin kept you where you were. You would at least let him have his chance. 

His hand went to your chest, fingers splaying to cup your breast. When you were nestled in his palm, he trailed his fingers together, letting your breast slip under his fingers until they met with a soft pinch on your nipple.

Tech's head tipped closer, letting him mouth at the line of your throat. Those lips traveled upward until he could scrape his teeth lightly over your earlobe. You fought a shiver. 

And then you did anyway, shuddering against him when Tech reached to run his gently squeezing fingers across your ass. 

“Breasts, lips, neck, ears, and buttocks,” he murmured. “Slightly out of order, but have I managed to convince you?” 

“You've managed to waste thirty seconds of your time,” you replied, fighting to keep your voice almost steady. “Two and a half minutes to go and I'm not anywhere near an orgasm.”

“Patience.” 

You frowned at the chastisement, but Tech paid no attention. He guided you down to lay on your bunk, feet on the edge of the mattress supporting your half-bent legs. It left your core exposed to the chill of the air on the ship, and you abruptly realized that those simple touches had left you wet. Not soaking, but well on your way there. 

You watched between your own legs as Tech studied your core. He seemed to be plotting his methods. Before you could remind him again of the time requirement, he brushed gentle fingertips over your labia. 

It felt more intense than you could believe. And when that delicate touch moved to caress your inner lips, you shifted your hips impatiently. 

Tech's attention turned to your clit. His first brush over it was so light that you could hardly feel anything, but he soon grew bolder in his touches. He worked you faster and faster, pausing only to sink two fingers deep into your channel. 

You arched against your bunk, a shocked and plaintive cry leaving you before you could even try to bite it back. 

“Good,” Tech said softly. “I want to hear you. Let me hear that you like what I'm doing.”

You weren't entirely sure how you would have responded to that, because Tech crooked his fingers inside of you and started hunting. Deliberately, he mapped your channel until he zeroed in on a rough, spongy patch on the inside of your front wall. 

A slight smile appeared on Tech's face. You had a moment to think about how handsome it made him before he stole your ability to see. 

He bore down on your g-spot, putting pressure on it until you cried out again. If you had the ability to remember words, you would have told him that it was too much. 

Tech hummed in understanding anyway  and shifted his efforts. His thumb worked against your clit as his fingers started a circular sort of thrusting motion. Your g-spot was still getting more attention than it ever had, but it managed to be less direct - and with that, less intense. 

Just when you started to wonder how close you were to three minutes having passed, Tech's mouth dropped to your hip. He applied lips and teeth to the sensitive crease where your hip met your thigh. 

Your orgasm rose up and swallowed you whole, and you never had a chance to fight against it. One moment, you were treading water in the assault and the next, you were drowning in sensation. 

Dimly, you became aware of the fact that your fingers hurt. With that realization, you came slowly back to your body, letting your stiffened fingers uncurl from where they had been fisted in the sheets. Your thighs unclenched, releasing Tech's hand from where it had been trapped between them. 

His fingers were still working gently inside of you and you gathered your strength to push him away. “How… how long?”

“Two minutes and forty four seconds,” Tech informed you, sounding obnoxiously matter of fact about it. “It likely would have taken less time if I had not stopped to test my understanding of extragenital erogenous zones.”

You would be irritated, but the strength and suddenness of your orgasm had left you largely unable to do anything but stare up at the ceiling. The heaviness of your limbs felt strange without a full buildup of activity, and it almost seemed as if your body was in a state of shock at how quickly the pleasure had been pulled from you. 

“Tech, can- can you-” you trailed off, reluctant to ask him for anything else. Eventually, you settled on, “Water?”

“Of course,” he agreed, instantly on his feet and rushing to get you a canteen.

When he handed you the water, you could watch Tech eyeing how long it took you to accept it, then to raise the canteen to your lips. Even so, he waited until you had finished drinking to ask, “Is something wrong?” 

You lifted one shoulder. “I- no? I don’t think so. It was just weird to come that suddenly. It’s like my body is pissed that there isn’t more.” 

“Do you want me to do it again?” Tech asked. 

You searched for sarcasm or mocking in his tone, but there was only patient curiosity. “Can you.. kiss me?” 

“Gladly.” 

He pressed a kiss to your lips. Then another, kneeling on the bed to reach you more easily. Eventually, he was lying on the bed beside you, all so he could kiss you without putting either of you in an awkward position. One of his hands gently cradled your cheek while you pressed a palm to his chest so you could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat. 

You continued far longer than you had expected, past the solace of a simple kiss and into the realm of need. You didn’t think it was entirely one-sided. Maybe the kiss had started for your benefit, but nothing said Tech couldn’t enjoy it, too. 

And he did. You could tell by the way he squirmed closer, by the heat of him pressed against you, by the steady deepening of the kiss you shared.

“Is this helping?” he asked. 

His eyes were bright with desire, a faint but undeniable rasp edging his voice. Maybe you should let him ask, to help assuage your pride. But you took pity on him instead. “Yes, but it might help more if you made me come again. Slower. The old-fashioned way.” 

Tech started to ask what exactly ‘old-fashioned’ meant. You could hear the question rise behind his parted lips. And yet it faded away before it could be asked, answered by the way you gripped his length through the material covering his lower half.  

His breath shuddered out and his hips twitched, but Tech still asked, “Are you certain-?”

“Yes, if you are.” 

Tech’s response to that was to reach down and grasp the back of your leg, tugging your knee up and over his hip. You were both still cradled by your mattress, but he was perfectly between your thighs. 

“You are stunning,” he told you. 

“You’re still dressed,” you told him. 

Tech paused, glancing down with a mixture of irritation and dread. “A problem I intend to fix momentarily.” 

He pulled away from you, rolling to his feet with his hands already working at the fastenings of his body glove. He had stripped it off in moments and you couldn’t help but be impressed at the efficiency of his movements.

When he slipped back into your bunk, he was all tan skin and subtle musculature. Tech arranged you both the way you had been before the interruption and, without the body glove in the way, the head of him was notched at your entrance. You were noticeably wet from your earlier orgasm, and he started to slip into you simply due to the position and your proximity. 

Tech’s voice was completely unsteady as he asked, “Precisely how slow do you want this to be?” 

“More than three minutes.” 

It may have been a dry witticism, but Tech accepted it like it was the most sincere request he had ever heard. And you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it, not when he pushed into you in a series of shallow thrusts.

When he had bottomed out inside of you, Tech reached to brush a bead of sweat from your temple. “Slow.” 

“Slow,” you confirmed with a nod. 

Tech began to move. He stayed deep inside of you for the most part, using tiny pulses to keep you building toward a reasonably paced orgasm. Occasionally, when he couldn’t help himself, he withdrew further and plunged back into you. Each of those thrusts pushed the breath from your lungs, shocking you no matter how often they happened. 

It wasn’t the frenetic sprint toward pleasure that you had experienced before. Rather than having pleasure ripped mercilessly from your system, Tech’s efforts were coaxing it from you. 

His pelvis rocked against yours, pushing and pulling incrementally inside of you. The bunching of his muscles against your body told you how much he was holding back even as the thick press of him stretched your channel. Compared to the jarring shock of your rushed orgasm, this pleasure felt utterly lazy and self-indulgent.

And you didn’t seem to be the only one who thought so. 

When Tech wasn’t watching you intently, his eyes fell closed and his brow furrowed as if he needed to concentrate so he could process everything he was experiencing. After one particularly deep pulse, your body tightened. It wasn’t your second orgasm - not yet - but it was a warning that another one was coming. 

Tech’s eyes flew open and he made a rough, helpless sound. Ridiculously, that was the thing that finally pushed you over the edge. The fact that you could pull such pleasure from him even without the extensive research he had done into erogenous zones - genital or otherwise - made you feel extraordinarily powerful. And, of course, it didn’t hurt that he was such a gorgeous man. 

In any case, you gasped a warning a half-second before your body clamped down around his. Tech kept going, working you through it, and it only pushed you higher. The pleasure went from silver to a blazing white, blinding in its intensity and almost painful. 

It was hard to come down when Tech’s rhythm was speeding up, but you could tell he was close by the wrinkle between his eyebrows. “Where-?”

“My implant is still good.” 

Tech’s lips parted and his brows furrowed, but you couldn’t see any more of his face than that. By the time he started to spill inside of you, he had buried his face in your neck. His arms wrapped around you, squeezing hard enough that it took extra time for you to catch your breath. 

When the desperate thrusts finally stopped, Tech fell utterly boneless against you. You sympathized as you slumped against the bed. You dozed lightly, rousing only when you felt him pressing his lips against your shoulder. 

You chuckled lightly, glancing down just in time to catch his eyes flicking up toward you. “You okay?” 

“Rather wonderful, actually,” he admitted, his lips still brushing your skin as he spoke. “And you?” 

“Good,” you said, wincing slightly as he moved against your core. “I’ll be sore, I think.”  

“I shouldn't be surprised.” Tech gingerly moved away from you, the stickiness of your activities trying to keep you together. “I'll see if we have any bacta.” 

“Bacta can't do anything about soreness,” you reminded him. Of course, as the Bad Batch's makeshift medic, he was well aware of the limitations of bacta. “Save it for the next mission.” 

Tech's head snapped toward you as your eyes widened. “The rendezvous!” 

Weak-kneed and as bare as the day he was decanted, Tech sprinted for the front of the Havoc Marauder. 

You braced against the shift of liftoff, then started gathering his clothing and a washcloth for him. Hunter would know what had happened, of course, but there was no need to be blatant.

---

Author's Note -

I can't remember if this is a first for me, but it's definitely in character for me as a person: I referenced an actual paper posted in 2016 to get Tech's information about the extragenital erogenous zones. I'm posting the citation below in case anyone wants to read it! I thought it was very interesting, even if you just read the abstract.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you thought!

Younis, Ihab, et al. "Female hot spots: extragenital erogenous zones." Human Andrology, vol. 6, no. 1, Mar. 2016, pp. 20-26, www.ingentaconnect.com/content/wk/xha/2016/00000006/00000001/art00004.

[goddessalthena]

UsaMamo Week 2024 - Day 3/6 - Inspired by a Song/Coffee

Late again, and it's tough to say how late because this is technically two prompts in one. I was originally planning to write this as a song fic, but wasn't really feeling it leading up to the event week. Then last night I read @caelenath's awesome song fic and felt inspired to take another look at my outline.

This is not the whimsical lark that my other UsaMamo week pieces have been (which is why I was torn about writing it) but it's an idea that's been nagging at me for a while now. This is only the first part of three, but I thought it would be nice to post it for the event.

Title: Happier Summary: Mamoru wants a cup of coffee. Rating: T (for language) Words: 1722

“Thirty eight!”

Chiba Mamoru is not a melodramatic person. He is not given to histrionics. Flagrant displays of emotion are simply not his thing. Indeed, he is a calm, composed, and exceedingly rational human being. Life is stressful—his arguably more so than most—and he prides himself on his ability to ‘rise above’. But if this beanie-wearing, mouth-breathing barista doesn’t call his number in the next sixty seconds he might just lose it.

“Thirty nine!”

Mamoru stares down at his receipt and wills the numbers to change. Unsurprisingly, they remain the same. He can transform into a superhero in the blink of an eye, but he can’t change a number on a piece of paper. It may be the caffeine withdrawal talking but this seems…unfair. Unjust. Unacceptable. He is a reincarnated prince, the rightful heir to the planet beneath his very feet, and yet he cannot get a simple cup of coffee.

“Thirty seven!”

Are they counting fucking backwards now? He takes a breath and stuffs the receipt in his pocket so he can run a hand through his hair. He needs to calm down. He’s just tired. He’s had another rough night of precious little sleep and this is just a bad morning. That’s all. One bad morning. At the end of a bad week. At the end of a bad month. He just—

“Forty!”

He just really needs some coffee. It’ll be ready soon. So long as they serve him in the next—he checks his watch—four minutes he can still make it to the hospital before his shift starts. He thinks. He’s only just started at UoT and he’s still not used to the bus transfers. Getting to Keio was much simpler. He didn’t have to get up so early, and the coffee shop across the street was much faster. Not to mention better. He misses that coffee. He misses Keio. He misses sleeping. He misses…a lot of things.

“Forty one!”

Lucky number forty one strolls up to the counter to claim their prize. They walk away with a tall plastic cup full of frothy green liquid that looks like it was poured directly out of an infected nostril, and Mamoru can’t help but shudder when they take a long, noisy sip from the straw. Who comes to a coffee shop and orders…whatever that is? This is apparently a trend now—ordering non-caffeinated beverages at coffee shops—because the last ten people who have walked away from the counter have had similarly ridiculous drinks. Why does everything have to be dessert, or snot, in a cup nowadays? What’s wrong with a regular cup of coffee?

He needs to find another coffee shop.

“Forty two!”

He needs them to call his number.

He pulls out his phone to distract himself and scrolls through a list of notifications: weather, junk mail, update reminders—up to forty five now, he’s got to get around to doing that—and one text. His thumb hovers over the blue bubble for a moment or two before he eventually presses down.

Training session Fri or Sat ppl. LMK work schedules ASAP. No ghosting Chiba. Ur old ass is getting rusty. 👴

As Mamoru rolls his eyes three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen. He holds his breath.

“Forty three!”

He doesn’t look away from those three little dots, doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe. He just watches them, transfixed, until finally—

I’ve got a shift at the restaurant Friday night, but I can do AM Sat wide open

He releases the breath he’s been holding in a quiet sigh. Just Makoto. Not— His thumb hits the back button of its own accord then scrolls down through the list of chats, until…there, near the bottom. Sandwiched between an old banking verification and a number he doesn’t even recognize. He reads the date to the right of the name and winces. Again, his thumb hovers.

“Forty four!”

He taps. A string of texts populate his screen. He doesn’t need to read them again, he knows them by heart. But he reads them anyway. Like he always does. He can’t help it. He’s weak; in these moments at least. When no one can see. He should stop looking now. Should close the window. Should delete the whole thread while he’s at it. But he won’t. He can’t. He can do a lot of things—has done a lot of things—but he can’t delete those words.

I love you, Mamo-chan.

“Forty five!”

I’ll always love you. Even if you’ve stopped loving me back.

“Forty five!”

I wish I knew why though. I wish you would tell me what I did wrong.

“Forty five! That’s four five, people. Four five!”

I’m sorry, I get it now, I won’t bother you anymore. Be happy, Mamo-chan. I want you to be happy.

“For the last time, forty five! Going once, going twice…”

Mamoru’s head snaps up. Forty five. Fuck. That’s his number.

He stuffs his phone in his pocket and rushes up to the counter and beanie-boy does not look happy. Mamoru begins to mutter an apology then stops as the barista shoves a large mug topped whipped cream, caramel, and chocolate shavings toward him. Mamoru looks from the mug to the mouth-breather and back again as his brain tries to comprehend what is happening. After an eternity of waiting they finally called his number and yet…this is not his drink.

The barista is staring at him with a bored, somewhat vacant expression and Mamoru can clearly see that he is wondering why Mamoru isn’t taking the mug and walking away. Apparently the barista can’t tell from Mamoru’s assumedly apoplectic expression that he has no intention of taking the mug. This mug is not his. It’s not what he ordered. It’s not what he wants. Apparently that’s just his life now. An endless string of miserable disappointments that he’s supposed to suffer through silently. But he’s fed up with being silent.

He wants his damn coffee, and he wants it right fu—

“Oh, hello, uh, hey, sorry, excuse me but…I think that’s mine actually.”

Mamoru blinks as a cheerful man with sandy blond hair steps up beside him. He points to the confectionery concoction on the counter and shoots Mamoru an apologetic smile before turning to the barista. “Yes, chocolate macchiato with caramel, right? I believe that’s mine and not this gentleman’s.”

Beanie boy looks from Mamoru to sandy-hair and blinks.

Sandy-hair glances at Mamoru and shoots him another overly apologetic look. “Right, umm, well, if it’s all right, I’ll just grab this and get out of your way.” Mamoru steps to the side and sandy-hair takes the mug and hurries away. Presumably to overdose on sugar.

Mamoru turns back to the barista.

Barista scratches his temple. The beanie must be itchy. Mamoru hopes it is.

“So…what was your order again?”

“Large. Black. Coffee.”

“Right. That’ll take a couple of min—” Beanie boy must have just learned to read facial expressions because his eyes widen and he takes a step back. “I’ll go get it now.”

Mamoru feels a little bit of the tension ease in his shoulders and he breathes a weary sigh. He’s being an asshole. He’s doing that more and more often now. He keeps telling himself it’s the long work hours and the lack of sleep, but he knows what the real problem is. It’s her. He misses her. But there’s nothing he can do about that so he needs to find a better way to cope than being rude to baristas. And co-workers. And neighbours in his apartment building.

The barista comes back with his to-go cup and Mamoru tries to smile and thanks him for the drink. The guy nods but appears otherwise unaffected and that’s fine. Mamoru’s not looking for a new friend, he’s just trying to be a decent human being. A tinkle of bells sounds as he reaches for his cup. A gust of air follows, and a familiar tingle between his shoulder blades compels him to turn. He follows the innate instinct before his mind can warn him against it.

The unmistakable sight of blond odangos makes his heart soar before the inevitable sensation of crushing gloom comes down hard upon his ribs. Just when he thought his morning couldn’t get any worse. He can’t handle this. Not right now. Not again. He’s not strong enough to face another awkward meeting, another painful interaction, another agonizing opportunity to break her heart. Why are they always bumping into each other? Why, in a city as big as this, can he not get through one single week without running into her? Why?

Mamoru knows why. Because they’re soul mates.

He looks around for an alternate exit, a side door, a window, anything so he can avoid being seen. Before he can consider hiding in the bathroom he realizes she’s not approaching the counter where he stands, she’s rushing over to a table. She’s out of breath, her cheeks are pink, and she’s spouting a string of apologies. He’s seen her look exactly like this countless times before, and he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face as the memories replay.

His smile disappears as a new memory implants itself in his mind.

Of Usako, rushing up to a table where a man with sandy blond hair is standing in wait. Where a man with sandy blond hair is taking her hands. Where a man with sandy blond hair is pulling her forward. Kissing her cheek. Making her blush.

“Don’t worry,” sandy-hair says, “your timing is perfect. Your drink just came out. I wasn’t sure if you wanted a muffin, a danish, or a doughnut, so I got one of each.”

Usako laughs with delight.

Usako laughs with delight.

Usako laughs with delight.

Mamoru heads for the door like the building is on fire. He doesn’t hear the barista calling after him, telling him that he’s forgotten his coffee. He doesn’t hear the tinkling of bells as he shoves through the door or the loud rush of traffic as he hits the sidewalk. All he can hear is Usako’s laughter play over and over in his head.

When was the last time he heard her laugh? When?

Mamoru doesn't know when. He can’t remember.

***

Ain’t nobody hurt you like I hurt you But ain’t nobody love you like I do Promise that I will not take it personal, baby If you’re moving on with someone new

***

Happy Birthday, Mamoru! Sorry bud, this is a breakup fic. What can I say? I both love and hate the breakup arc. The song that inspired this fic is Happier by Ed Sheeran.

Thanks for reading! ❤️

Be sure to follow @usamamoweek for all of this year's content!

Many thanks to our awesome hosts @random-mailbox and @lilliebellfanfics for making this possible. 😘😘

[asterouslyaesthetic]

"marry me."

"did you think i'd marry you without a ring?" kiran teases. [alfonse/kiran]

content tags: pure sickening fluff and a proposal lol

notes: was in the mood for something short and fluffy as a break from all the longer oneshots i keep trying to write

alfonse looks up from the open notebook on kiran's lap at the woman herself, drawing his knees closer to his chest.

her smile, bright and cheerful, when she asks his opinion and the way she animatedly dissects the dresses she and his sister were looking over this morning for the annual wedding brawl festival—the same one commander anna attempted to win in order to sell its winning prize the first year—makes it easy for his mind to start wandering to thoughts he shouldn't be vocalizing.

and to that the fact that he hasn't seen her in a while, because of the duties that keep piling up on both their plates, and what happens next is no surprise.

the thoughts—all following a similar line of reasoning about how desperately he wants to go back to when they were younger and he could monopolize her time at odd times without much trouble, without fear of scandal or leftover paperwork—condense into only two words, which slip out of his mouth by accident. and they come out as a soft whisper that his lover would ordinarily overlook in the midst of her cute babbling, though lady luck does not side with him today.

dark brown eyes, once fixated on the rough sketches of various wedding dresses, lock onto his blue ones. their (beautiful) owner tucks a strand of similarly-colored hair behind her ears, leaving her hand there, and smiles something that can barely be called a smile—a twitch of her lips that seems to be at odds with the embarrassment and concern that makes her eyes shine.

"did you say something?" she asks, allowing her hand to slip out of her long hair. it comes to rest neatly on her lap, rather than the page it once rested on. "i didn't catch that."

in the midst of battling his own concern—well aware what a momentous occasion it is that the woman who spent her teen years pretending she didn't want to marry anyone is entrusting him with actual, tangible thoughts about her dream wedding, beyond who the groom will be and how his sister is definitely going to cry—the words stupidly slip out of his lips once more.

"marry me."

the corner of the page she was in the middle of turning slips between her fingers, and the page falls back into place. surprise makes her lips part and her eyes widen—makes her drag her other hand onto her lap too and clasp the two together as she looks down.

if you want to.

his short-circuiting brain lacks the means to differentiate between a thought and something spoken out loud at first—and when it calms down, recognizing what happened, his throat lacks the means to free the words caught there.

but then she looks up and her expression changes.

narrowed eyes and a soft smile; that alone is enough to relax the weight bearing down on his shoulder.

"i can't do that," she says, closing her book.

the weight comes back, in the different form, as a heavy stone in his stomach, even as the more rational part of him understands that her words are only a set up for some punchline—probably about how they've been lovers for only a few months. though in his defense, he's been in love with her for years now.

his gloved hand grasps onto the mess on the bed that is her beloved blanket and pulls it closer to him, as though it'll bring him some measure of comfort.

his blue eyes don't leave her form for a single moment.

she swings her legs to the right, scooting closer to him. her hand comes to rest on his cheek and for a moment, when he sees her loving expression, he forgets everything.

which explains why, only a second later, he feels so betrayed when she pinches his cheek hard.

"did you think i'd marry you without a ring?" kiran teases. she's laughing as she presses a kiss to his cheek, in the exact spot where she pinched it. "it's like you're expecting me to do all the work."

alfonse performs his part admirably, rubbing his cheek once to start an attempt to let her know how deeply her betrayal cut. when it comes time to pout and glare, his lips mistake the order for a smile, and his eyes, for a loving gaze.

he exhales through his nose, rolling his eyes fondly at the (very beautiful) woman smiling brightly at him.

"but you'll marry me if i give you the ring, right?" he asks, as if he doesn't already know the answer from the way she takes his hand in hers.

she laughs, in a way that, despite his reading habits, he can only describe as prettily.

"of course, that part was never in question," kiran tells him, punctuating the end of her sentence by resting her head on his shoulder. "so make sure you find one soon, 'kay?"

[thegemthatreads]

Alakai ‘Kai’ Novalar - Half-Elf Warlock Bhaalspawn

What is your Tav’s…

Favourite weapon: Bloodthirst Dagger. He loves to get all up and personal with his victims so they can see the bloodlust in his eyes.

Most prized possession: A little trinket Klarity made for him when they were younger. It was one of the very first things she made and tried to make a crescent moon out of vines. He carries it in his pocket wherever he goes and when he needs to calm down or needs a little’ luck push', he holds onto it.

Deepest desire: He doesn’t remember his past. Only that he had to look out for his little sister when they were younger, but after that, everything was a blur. So his deepest desire would be to create more memories, good or bad since he can never see the line between the two, especially with his family he found with Klarity.

Guilty pleasure: He loves to make people around him flustered. It could just be a stare or using what he’s learned against said person. He loves to watch them squirm and get red in the face, not able to say a sentence without stuttering.

Greatest strength: As cheesy as it sounds. His sister. She gave him the courage and the strength to be who he is today. Though most people see being a Bhaalspawn as a curse, his sister inspired him to use it to their advantage and use it for….mostly good purposes while still having fun with it. She may be the more calm and collected one and people friendly but when it comes to combat and strategizing, she’s more experienced compared to Alakai which inspires him to be more. She is the reason he gathered the strength to stay alive and keep fighting.

Greatest weakness: If Klarity or his partner is hurt or in trouble. He’s a mess. He can’t focus on anything but their safety. It would always cause him to get gravely injured. He either gets really scared/worried or so angry, all he sees is red and won’t stop till he gets to them, even if it means his life is in danger.

Fatal flaw: His rage can make him not think rationally. He would black out and wake up the next day with no recollection of what happened.

Favourite smell: The type of atmosphere smell when you’re by the lake. The fresh air with the fresh water smell, calms him and would always make him want to sit by the lake, basking in the moonlight (He prefers night to day)

Favourite spell or cantrip: Eldritch Blast (Especially when it throws the enemy back…preferably over a cliff)

Pet peeve: Gale keeps absorbing his favourite artefacts or little trinkets he thought a friend or his sister would like. (Normally when Alakai finds out Gale absorbed it, he ties Gale up like a hog in his tent as ‘punishment’ and leaves them there to think about what he’s done.)

Bad habit: He tends to have a snarl-like expression on his face 24/7. He was never a people person so it always made him unapproachable. It’s a habit he tries to break but always fails miserably at.

Hidden talent: He plays the Lute and he can juggle. (He had to entertain his little sister somehow growing up)

Leisure activity: Sitting by the river at night, watching the scene in front of him. Sometimes he likes to take naps with his back against the tree. Scratch and Owlie (He named the owlbear Owlie but refuses to tell anyone) curled up on either side. If he can’t sleep, he’ll hum to himself a tune he’d hear on the day.

Favourite drink: Mermaid Whiskey. It’s a bonus since he’s a sucker for bottle designs too.

Comfort food: Poutine. Potato, cheese and gravy all in one? Sign him UP!

Favourite person(s): He saw Shadowheart more as a sister as they travelled together. Although he should have disapproved of it, he was proud of her when she would try to threaten La’zael but would only smirk since he kinda liked the idea of the two together. Shadowheart was one of the very few people that would see the ‘teasing’ side of Alakai. Everytime there was tension between La’zael and her, when they would set up camp, he’d walk past her tent while making lewd gestures while pointing to La’zael and Shadowheart, causing her to chase him until he’d fall in the lake. They had a brother and sister bond that she didn’t wanna trade for anything.

La’zael he cherished so much. She was all about fighting and spilling blood which he LOVED. They bonded over the fact they wanted to constantly spill enemies blood. They both aren’t very familiar with having friends but he would die for her and would hope she’d do the same for him but would also respect her even more if she didn’t.

Astarion…well…Alakai thought he was a dick at first. Although when they first met, he didn’t like the fact at how much Astarion pulling a dagger on him, excited him. So in a panic he’d twist around, decking Astarion in the nose before scrambling to get up. That day was when their relationship blossomed. Astarion would always flirt with him or Klarity for some sort of protection which of course would urk Alakai the most. When they all found out that Astarion was a vampire, he made Astarion promise that he would drink from him only and not to touch his sister. They would always joke around and actually enjoy each other's company as time went by. Alakai didn’t want to admit it but he started to fall for the Pale Elf and wouldn’t do anything about it and would continue to continue the bond they built since he was convinced Astarion needed a friend more than any form of intimacy.

Karlach was a puppy in Alakai’s eyes. He wanted to make sure she’d get the escape and happiness she wanted and would bend his back backwards for the Tiefling. Although she had the strength and courage to look after herself and such, that didn’t stop him from wanting to keep her safe. The same with all of his friends.

Favoured display of affection: If he really cared for the person, forehead kisses or a faint smile. He wasn’t always one for affection and when he’d be worried about an upcoming battle, he’d give the people he really cared about an encouraging smile or a forehead kiss, depending on the person. If it was someone he is involved with, an arm around their waist while kissing the side of their head or resting his forehead against theirs.

Fondest childhood memory: He doesn’t remember much but only the laughter and fun he shared with his sister.

Is there anything else you'd like to share? (feel free to include art or a screenshot of your Tav if available!)

When they finished facing Cazador, after Astarion decided not to ascend and let off all his feelings. Alakai crouched down, his head bowed so Astarion could have his moment of relief. Later that night in camp, Alakai went to check up on him and when he could see the pain in Astarion’s eyes, he gave a look to Astarion, asking for permission to hug him and when he is given permission, he pulls Astarion into a hug, resting his face in the crook of Astarions neck before moving his head to give a faint kiss on Astarions forehead and gives a faint smile to him. “I’m happy you’re finally your own person, if you ever need a night hunting person, I’m always available.”

Later that night, Shadowheart goes to Alakai’s tent as he’s reading a book he found. Shadowheart kneels beside him and has a knowing smirk on her face, Alakai already sensing what is about to happen, he closes his book and exhales through his nose. Shadowheart then reenacts Alakai’s words that were said to Astarion, causing Alakai to growl and throw his book at Shadowheart that runs out of his tent laughing.

Also fun fact, Alakai doesn’t like to show his soft side often but when he does, he gets so lovey dovey towards Scratch and ‘Owlie’, fawning over them and giving them plenty of treats while everyone watches, shocked that Alakai even had that side of him (considering they only saw the anger looking, murderous side of him). He even allows them to sleep in his tent which leads to them curling up to his side.

[cosmicswritings]

Saw your thing for writing requests, please just ignore if that's off the table!

Starscream or OP in any universe gets the other to genuinely laugh.

Okay, I think I have the perfect post war idea for that. I’m going to do TFP (it was hard to find which universe but oh well). Actually, you’re lucky because I’m going to also make and IDW version of this prompt because an idea LITERALLY just popped into my head. I’ll tag you in both <3. 

Also this fic was so fun to do thank you so much!!

__

Eventually, Starscream knew he’d have to contact Cybertron to let them know that their prized pet had gotten loose. 

Most people thought that Optimus had perished when he’d jumped into the Well of Sparks, and in his own exile so did Starscream. He wasn’t too upset at that at all actually, in fact, that was the one thing he could celebrate while on the run from the predacons and the rest of Cybertron in general.

Yet, Prima worked in many ways because living in his humble cave on an energon-filled, yet desolate planet systems away from Cybertron, he did not expect a confused, clueless and very much alive Optimus Prime to find him.

That had happened a month or so ago, and Starscream could not shake him off. Optimus - or Orion - was clearly lost. Starscream had thought to kill him at first, or even send him to bounty hunters for some energon rations or something but…little by little, he had a change of spark. He didn’t know what it was about clueless Optimus that made him less prone to violence or at least want to change his ways.

Truth be told, that answer was simple. Starscream was lonely, and he’d lost everything.

Everywhere he went, people looked upon him with disgust and hatred. Not that he didn’t deserve some of it, but it hurt. Especially when he had, during the conclusion of the war attempted to change and defect from the Decepticon cause. No one believed him, and the Autobots had treated him poorly because of it.

That said, as clueless as Orion Pax (or Optimus) was, he didn’t look at Starscream like he was a monster.

He looked at him like he was a savior and perhaps, one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. And that is why Starscream could not bring himself to harm him. He knew eventually Optimus’s memories would return, or that someone would come for him, but until then, he could indulge in the new friend he’d made. 

Presently, Starscream found himself sitting against one of the trees outside of their cave. Truth be told, they did not spend that much time in their cave; it was where Starscream hid. However, given they were the only ones on the planet, being outside suited Starscream more. He was used to living in the woods like this, being beneath the trees and in nature. During his self banishment, he’d found himself there before and it was a comforting setting to him.

There was a datapad in his hand, a book downloaded from an Earthling database. As much as he hated to admit it, Starscream loved Earth books and stories. 

In the distance there were heavy footsteps heard growing closer and closer. Starscream retained his calm demeanor, as he already knew who the mech was approaching him.  

“Starscream,” The voice was soft, yet filled with excitement and curiosity. “I know it’s going to be another cold night, so I found some firewood. I can regulate heat much easier than you can…you on the other hand…”

He stepped in front of Starscream, who was still leaned against the tree. He hadn’t faced him yet.

“Or, you can just sit next to me and warm me. You are a big, loveable hunk of metal, we don’t need fire to stay–”

At that moment, Optimus had fully made it in front Starscream, still holding large tree trunks in his arms. Starscream’s optics made contact with Orion’s yet, his vocalizer paused as he attempted to speak. A breathless noise came from the depths of his audio system that eventually, burst into laughter. 

Orion tilted his head in confusion.

“Is something funny, Starscream?” He asked quietly. 

“You–your head–our audials!” Starscream stood and practically ran over to him. “Were you rolling in a meadow?” Somehow, some way, when searching for fire wood, Optimus had accumulated a rather large amount of flowers upon his head. He was more than likely pushing through some trees as he did so, and did not even realize that he had grown a sort of crown of flowers. 

Orion smiled rather bashfully and inclined slightly as Starscream approached him, messing with the makeshift flower crown on his head. “You are many things Orion Pax, but you manage to get more an every day.” He still chuckled as he spoke. Never in his millions of years did he expect to see Optimus Prime with flowers on his head. Somehow though, it seemed fitting. 

“Cute, is that a human term?” Optimus asked, confused.

Starscream chuckled. “Yes…yes it is. Ahh there, now you look better.”

Optimus smiled, dropping the pile of fire wood and taking just a flower or two from his audials and somehow placing them upon Starscream’s head, fashioning them tightly.

“Now Starscream, we both look ‘cute’.” Orion said, gaining more confidence.

Starscream smiled, feeling that familiar rush of energon flush his facial chasms. He hated to admit that after all this time, he started to grow feelings for Orion Pax. Well, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.

__

Hope you enjoyed and as always, requests are open! I loved writing this!!

[fallenasleepyetagain]

In My Care - Nightmare/Blue fic

Media: Undertale AUs/UTMV

Genres: Romance, hurt/comfort, betrayal, whump (technically?), human AU

Characters: King Nightmare, Blue, Dream, Cross, Horror, Ink (mentioned)

Pairing: Nightmare/Blue

CW/TW: Betrayal, broken bones, bones in general, violence mention

Word Count: 2616

"H..huh wha...I don't- What…What’s going on?" Blue slurred, his vision blurry as he looked up at Dream's face. He must've been in pain, but he couldn't feel it. Not yet.

The ground was cold, a striking contrast to Dream's warm hands that were placed on his face. Dream was stroking his head and saying something, but the ringing in his ears made it impossible to focus.

Whenever he tried to speak, Dream would put a finger to his mouth. Shushing him.

"Drea-Dream I don't- Please-"

"Shhh." Blue heard him, finally. His eyes lit up slightly, and his brain got less foggy. "God, shit, ok, good, you're with me now. Hey, hey..."

Dream kept his head up as he regained his energy, the guardian's hands running through his curly hair.

"It's going to be ok. You're going to be ok, I got you."

"What happened...?” His head was thrumming and pain began to creep up from his bottom half.

"We were fighting Nightmare plus his gang and some debris fell on you. It got you good, and knocked you out, but you're ok now."

Blue attempted to pull himself forward but he stopped just as quickly as he started. Pain shot through him, and he cried out, holding onto Dream as he was cradled.

"No no! Don't move. Your legs appear to be fine but the debris above you seems to be keeping your waist pinned down."

"Can-Can you help me?" Blue took a deep breath, his eyes slammed shut due to the hammering in his chest and the return of the ringing in his ears.

Dream stopped touching him to stand up. Averting his eyes.

"Dream? Can you...are you...?"

"Don't worry ok? I'll come for you, just be patient. Don't give up hope. This is all part of the plan."

"P-Plan? What plan? Please I…I don't understand."

Dream just shook his head. His eyes glanced up and he sighed, kneeling down and stroking Blue's cheek one more time.

"Nightmare is coming. He will take you with him."

"WHAT?!"

"SHHH!" Dream slammed his hand over Blue's mouth, "I know, I know ok?! I know that this seems terrible, but listen. It's...a necessary evil. Ink and I will come get you, ok? I promise. He won't even have the chance to hurt you."

The warmth of Dream's hands abandoned him as Blue's head was dropped. He lay on the cold ground, mind and heart whirling. Had Dream just...left him? To become Nightmare's captive?

He could barely believe it. He couldn't believe it at all! There had to be some rational explanation, some sort of reasoning behind Dream leaving him!

Something heavy pushed against the debris above him and he cried out before slamming his hands over his mouth.

Nightmare was right above him. Crushing him from above. He prayed to whatever god was up there that Nightmare would just leave him alone and Dream would come back, and everything could be normal and make sense.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" Nightmare's voice spoke from above him, cruelty dripping from every word. "A prize waiting to be claimed."

Shit!

A groan of pain rang out as Nightmare stepped down from the debris. The shifting of weight caused whatever was on top of Blue to be pushed into the ground, into his legs, even further.

Tears were forced from his eyes as he blinked. Pain shot through him like a barrage of bullets. Blue grit his teeth and avoided looking at Nightmare, eyes squeezed shut.

This proved to be worthless however, since Nightmare bent down and gently slipped his hand under Blue's chin. Nightmare was colder than Dream, and his hands were more forceful. Grabbing at his skin to make sure he didn't break free. Though, Blue preferred it to the cold ground.

"Aren't you just adorable?" Nightmare cooed, squeezing his cheeks. He whimpered as Nightmare did so, his body beginning to ache again. "I can't believe Dream just left you here. That was quite stupid of him.”

Nightmare leaned down closer, his lips nearly touching Blue's ear. "How does that make you feel, hm? Being abandoned by your only friend."

Blue hung his head down, and Nightmare clicked his tongue disapprovingly. He stood up and snapped his fingers, almost like he was calling a dog, "CROSS! HORROR! Here, now!"

It only took a few seconds for the biggest men in Nightmare's gang to get there. Horror and Cross looked down at him, concern and pity forming on their faces.

"Oh shit?! What happened to-" Cross tried to say.

"Lift the debris." Nightmare commanded, interrupting Cross's words.

The two got to work immediately. Blue inhaled deeply as the large debris was lifted. It was as if a mountain was lifted off of him, and he staggered to his feet.

Despite his own weight being significantly less than the large piece of cement on him, his legs began to scream. To burn. It shot up through his body, through his bones. Even his artificial ribs felt the stinging pain.

A cry left him as he collapsed to the hard ground once more, trembling.

Nightmare nudged his cheek with his shiny, black shoe. "Hm."

Cross attempted to go over, to help, to do something, anything! But Nightmare held up a hand. Slowly, he bent down and shifted Blue so he was on his back. With oddly precise movements, Nightmare poked and prodded at his legs, making careful notes on Blue's reactions.

"Careful," Nightmare spoke as Blue gripped onto his sleeve. "This suit is worth more than whatever hovel you, Dream, and Ink live in. If you ruin it, I assure you that you will be in debt for the rest of your mortal life."

The city was quiet at that point, with Horror wrangling up the other two members of Nightmare's gang. Blue's ragged breaths echoed along the street, as well as his his grunts of pain whenever Nightmare touched something that was especially tender.

"Cross, come." Cross stepped forward, being only a foot away from Blue.

"Shift to your left." Cross did as he was told. "Good. Don't move."

It took Cross a second to realize that Nightmare was using him as a shield from the sun. He scowled, but didn't move. At least he was being helpful.

"I fear you've got a break in your left ankle, my dear." Nightmare spoke softly, effortlessly lifting Blue up into his arms. Blue didn't struggle, going limp as Nightmare carried him off.

The adrenaline coursing through him had begun to wane, and the pain in his ankle, his legs, only got worse. He wanted out of Nightmare's arms, away from Nightmare entirely, and back to the safety of Dream's warm embrace, but he couldn't bring himself to fight. Not when he was in such agony.

Tears slipped from his eyes as he squeezed them shut, blocking out the sun and getting some dust out of his eyes. Nightmare's hand gently shifted to Blue's face, and with the flick of his finger, a tear was promptly removed from his face.

"Brace yourself." Nightmare spoke. Blue flinched as the squelching sound of Nightmare's tentacles being summoned entered his dining eardrums. He held his breath and tensed his body, preparing for the sudden change in environment.

How Dream, Error, Ink, or anyone else for that matter, hopped from universe to universe without issue was beyond him. It really wasn't fair. Universe jumping always shook his body, and he needed a minute or so to adjust.

The humidity was the first thing he noticed. It was staggering, how dry the city was compared to the outside of Nightmare's castle. He felt his clothes stick to his skin, and he grimaced at the feeling.

Mercy was shown to him though, as Nightmare entered the castle. Despite it being visibly old and weathered, it had decent cooling. Apparently the heating in the winter wasn't too great, according to Cross, but that was irrelevant considering it was the springtime.

Blue braced himself for the freezing dungeon and harsh conditions that he was often put in when he was kidnapped. Nightmare smirked at his astonishment when he was taken in the exact opposite direction of said dungeon.

Nightmare went up a large set of spiraled stairs with ease, taking caution to not let Blue's head or broken ankle hit the walls. The hallway was like every other: gothic and dark.

It was jarring to see what the medical area in the castle looked like. The big, wooden, medieval-style door opened up into a pristine and modern medical room. It looked like a studio apartment, but with medical supplies instead of furniture.

When they entered the room, Nightmare gently set Blue down on the bed. It was surprisingly comfortable for a hospital bed, and the coolness of it felt nice against his throbbing legs. Blue had been to his fair share of hospitals in his lifetime, and he had to begrudgingly admit that this was the most comfortable.

As he laid down on top of the white sheets, he kept his eyes on Nightmare as he walked a few paces away at the counter. The room was silent as Nightmare opened up the upper cabinets with his hands, his tentacles opening the ones closer to the ground.

"What are you doing?"

The two tentacles protruding from his back hovered by his shoulders, holding what seemed to be gauze and a pill bottle of some kind. Blue couldn't see what was in his hands from his current angle.

"I can't put a cast on your leg immediately, especially without a proper x-Ray scan. However, I do know the general idea of where your break is, so I can stop the swelling."

"...What?"

"Hm?" Nightmare turned around, small pillows in his arms. Blue looked at Nightmare in confusion as he came over, lifting up Blue's leg and placing it on the pillows to keep it elevated.

As Nightmare began to wrap his ankle and foot up tight with the gauze, Blue spoke, a bit baffled. "Why aren't you using magic?"

Nightmare looked just as confused as he finished up wrapping Blue's leg. "You and I both know that messing with bones and magic is dangerous. Healing muscle, fat, or skin is easy."

"I know that! It's just…um.”

"He heals your bones with magic, doesn't he?" Nightmare asked, standing next to Blue with his arms folded behind his back. Theo he was taking about was obvious. "That doesn't surprise me. Healing bones with magic never works properly, we both know it leaves your bones...malleable.

"Dream, on the other hand, has never really understood how...fragile you mortals can be."

Blue grit his teeth, "I'm not fragile, thank you very much."

"Aw." Nightmare purred, clicking his tongue as he ran a finger down his face. "It’s adorable that you think that."

Before Blue could protest further, Nightmare put a finger to his lips.

"Shh. We could do this all day, and as much as I'd like to do that, we need to move on." Nightmare smiled, oddly sweet, as he shifted his hand away from Blue's face and back behind him. Blue nodded, keeping quiet.

"Good. Now, you will be in my care until you can walk without pain. And, since I know you, how your magic works, I suspect you'll be here for a month or so."

"A month?!" Blue sputtered, sitting up while keeping his leg elevated. "Are you out of your mind?! Y-You can't just- Dream will come for me!"

"Why are you treating this like a kidnapping? I do believe that Dream won't be coming for you, considering the circumstances that got you here."

Rubbing salt in the wound is what Nightmare excelled at.

Using his thumb, Nightmare wiped the tear that fell down Blue's cheek. Much to his surprise, Blue didn't pull away or push him away.

It was subtle, but Blue leaned into his touch, just a little.

"You're tense." Nightmare said, taking his hand away and tucking it back behind his back. "You have no need to be. You are in my care. Harming you would be counteractive to my goal."

"Which is?"

Nightmare clicked his tongue, amused. "Cleaning up Dream's mess, of course."

This, as Nightmare intended, got a small snort out of Blue.

Before another word was said, Blue yawned. Nightmare wasn't surprised, considering the amount of adrenaline that had been pumping through his veins during the battle, as well as his body trying to put itself back together.

It was around eight-thirty in the evening, which, for mortals, wasn't an unreasonable time to fall asleep. A bit early, perhaps, but since he'd be healing, the more sleep the better.

"Hold on."

Carefully, Nightmare lifted Blue with his tentacles. He made sure to support Blue's head and back, as well as keeping the broken leg elevated. He pulled down the sheet, and then set Blue back down, allowing him to get comfortable underneath it.

"There."

"Can I have a blanket?"

Straight to the point. Nightmare found that admirable about him.

"Of course."

There were warm blankets in the storage area of the medical wing, and it took only a moment for him to drape one over Blue's body. Blue nuzzled into it, pulling it up as he stayed on his back.

"Comfortable?"

"Mhm."

"Good." Nightmare stroked Blue's hair, fingers combing through his brown curls. He pulled away from Blue, sauntering over to the door. "I'll leave you to rest then, I'll be-"

"Wait."

"Hm?"

"Don't leave." It was a soft, gentle plea. Blue's hand dropped from the bed, reaching for him. "Please."

There was work to be done, there always was. Nightmare hesitated at the door, hand hovering by the knob. But Blue looked so sad, so pathetic...he couldn't just leave him alone.

"Just this once."

"Thank you."

Using a tentacle and portals, he grabbed the book that he was currently reading from his bedside table. He sat down on the armchair next to the bed, crossing one leg over the other as he opened the book.

"...Can I ask you for something silly?"

Nightmare's lips curled into an amused smile, "Of course."

"Can you read it to me?"

"What, my book?"

"Yeah...sorry."

"Don't apologize. I wouldn't mind that at all, as long as you don't mind starting in the middle."

"Nope..." Blue sunk into the bed, his face buried into his scarf as he closed his eyes.

It took Nightmare a second before he began to read aloud. He would have to reread this section later, as he was not paying attention. His mind was stuck on his kidnappee next to him.

If Dream didn't come to get him, Nightmare might just keep him himself. Dream wouldn't know what he was missing until it was gone.

Nightmare liked the idea of that. He'd get sweet revenge against Dream as well as a sweet man in the palm of his hand.

It didn't take long for exhaustion to catch up with him, and he was passed out within minutes. He shut the light off with a tentacle, the only source now being the setting sun shining in through the windows. Blue looked stunning in the light, the way the sun danced against his brown curls and face was something he hasn't noticed before.

No wonder Dream liked to keep him by his side.

A smile, one more sinister than the ones he had given Blue, creeped upon his face. He believed that Blue would look just as, if not better, at his side than Dream’s.

With a final touch of his cheek, Nightmare left the room.

[the-meat-machine]

Would you mind if I asked you for advice on Caliborn for a fic I'm working on? I love the little guy to death, but I'm currently struggling with my self-indulgent urges to put him in a less dominant role than he'd EVER accept in canon (if only because I'm a sucker for dominant characters being put in a submissive position, and Caliborn is simultaneously the ultimate candidate for that and the hardest to pull off).

How do you think he would react to a situation that makes him feel weak and puts him in a more submissive role, but that he enjoys enough to continue through with it in spite of that, or /maybe/ even because of it? It's difficult for me to even comprehend Caliborn not being totally dominant and still being in character, and I consider you an expert on the matter, which is why I ask.

Thank you in advance, if you choose to answer!

I think there are ways to make this work.

In general, Caliborn is not prone to self-reflection. He's a creature of pure id. He takes what he wants without ever bothering to consider why he wants it. Usually this works out fine for him, since most of the things he wants (to fuck shit up, hurt people, and generally cause mayhem) fit in with his self-image as a badass manly dude who doesn't give a shit about anyone.

The problem for him comes when he likes something that, on the surface, doesn't seem to fit in with his self-image. But even then, he doesn't tend to deny himself the things that he wants. Instead, he comes up with some batshit justification that makes it fit his self-image. Because he's the biggest badass and so by definition he must like everything for badass, manly reasons… right? An obvious example: I'm of the opinion that Caliborn's fascination with "tenderness" is way more genuine than he will ever admit. And then there's the absurd way he manages to justify his interest in "the yaois".

So. In this specific situation, I can see a world where submission is something that Caliborn enjoys. Maybe he gets a weird thrill out of being overpowered, out of feeling like he's in genuine danger, since those aren't things that happen to him much. (You could even argue that there's a basis for this in canon, in that he tries to build up Jake and Dave into heroes who can defeat him.) You just need to figure out a way for Caliborn's brain to rationalize it in the most ass-backwards, self-aggrandizing way possible.

If he can manage to convince himself that the whole thing is his idea (whether that's true or not) and that any perceived "weakness" on his part is just some filthy perverse roleplay where he's just ironically pretending to be weak when actually he's the strongest and best (again, whether that's true or not), it might work out.

Maybe he'll be willing to obey orders as part of a "game" if the prize for winning is good enough or the punishment for losing is bad enough. Or if what's happening is a surprise to him but he finds himself wanting to keep going anyway, maybe he can tell himself that he's actually "tricking" the other person into doing what he wants. Or maybe he can find a way to construe it as them acting out some sort of tender romantic scenario that he can pretend was his plan all along. Things like that. Ways that he can give up control while telling himself that he's not really giving up control.

(Or maybe the first time he gets beaten up it awakens something in him, and from then on he keeps subconsciously steering the timeline in directions that require him to get his ass handed to him at regular intervals. You know, just coincidentally. It's not like he likes getting pinned down under strong, muscular bodies, it just has to happen to ensure his dominance in the end. No getting around it. I doubt this is applicable to your scenario, but I thought of it and wanted to share because I kind of love the idea now.)

[noco7]

Do you think RR Noah felt kind of OOC?

I could speak for hours about RR Noah. There's a lot that bothers me about him in that season, that's more than just him being "OOC." And it's more than just n*mma.

But yes, he is OOC. It's stated in canon that Owen finds Noah's actions strange. He sees Noah staring at Emma, and it's so strange that the only explanation he can come up with is "maybe he has rabies." The fact that n*mma is unnatural is not only lampshaded, but honestly the point. Noah is acting strange! Because he's in loooove. And "love makes you do strange things" !!! Which isn't completely untrue, but that means you have to assume Noah was in love with Emma as soon as he saw her. Which uhh, doesn't quite make sense, considering Noah has always been the "unimpressed" one.

N*mma's like a self-insert fic. Noah, stoic cold Noah, took one look at her and suddenly he can't take his eyes off her. Suddenly he's doing everything to help her win, everything to be near her. And well, that works when your Y/N, when it's a fanfic and the people reading already want to believe. So the point isn't to be accurate, but to present the most promising fantasy. And there's nothing wrong with that.

But it's not the writing you do for a TV show, when you're trying to convince people who's never seen this ship that it makes sense. (And especially not the writing you do when you also have to convince the audience that the guy in it isn't gay.)

But Noah's decline in RR is more than just N*mma. There's the fact that they set up a promise in the first episode and broke it. There's the fact that his character arc is a circle. There's the fact that RR as a season doesn't really suit Noah's strengths. And yeah, there's the fact that n*mma was poorly written.

So let's walk our way through this.

1) Noah says in the first episode, that he is going to focus on WINNING. "Every reality show I've been on, I lost. This time, no excuses, no distractions." I am bolding this because it is very important. Noah wants to win. This is a little strange for Noah, but it's good, and its easy to fill in the reasons. He's tired of losing is the obvious one. Maybe he needs the money, maybe it's a New Years resolution. It's be great if the show told us exactly why he's taking the show serioudly, but it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

The important thing is he's finally going to TRY. Right? Right?

Nope. The challenge in the 2nd episode is to pick out five specific spices. Noah says "just give us the five closest to you." 🤦‍♂️ This wasn't even his own plan. He copied Dwaynes. Like... what happened to trying? What happened to wanting to win? And then makes Owen eat the resulting mess, so again. What effort is Noah putting in? Where's the try? BTW - one of the spices he was supposed to identify was cinnamon. CINNAMON. How does he not know what cinnamon is? Like at least try to get one right. (Honestly, this whole challenge sucks? Only white people would think identifying spices is a challenge.)

There's also a challenge where he has to memorize an Icelandic phrase. Just one phrase. Somehow he fucks this up. He's supposedly a smart guy, and he fucks this up.

It's like the writers forgot that his character existed beyond snark. Noah is supposed to be a smart guy. Why can't he memorize one phrase? He's also supposed to be Indian ... like from, you know, India, the place that's known for its spices? Hmm. I'm not saying he has to know every single spice, but it feels fake that he doesn't know one.

Again, what happened to trying? What happened to "focusing on the cheddar?" aka the prize money? What happened to attempting competence?

So when I say they set up a promise in the first episode and broke it, this is what I mean. They set up an idea and completely forgot about it, to the point of making Noah dumber than he rationally should be.

2) So remember Noah in Island? He wasn't really a character till the dodgeball episode, where he refused to help his teammates, made fun of them, and gets eliminated for it.

Now think of Noah's last episode in RR. He refuses to help Owen with the Komodo dragon and gets himself flattened by a pile of rugs. And you think "oh well now he can't help because he's stuck, poor baby." But he can help himself because he does when Emma calls him. But he refuses to on his own, or when Owen calls out to him. And they get eliminated because of it. So once again, Noah refuses to help his teammates and gets eliminated for it.

Which makes it sound like it's not OOC, he's just a really flat character. And that's sorta true, but the RR version is WORSE.

Noah never made a promise to win in Island. And the teammates he was refusing to help - he didn't know them. They were strangers. And above all, he didn't directly cause their loss. Sure, he was deadweight, but the team could have won without him if it weren't for Harold.

But in RR, the person he's refusing to help is Owen. His best friend. The nicest person alive, the guy who did everything for Noah when Emma dumped him. He's refusing to help his best friend win, and making sure they lose. Why? Because he's decided he doesn't care about the game anymore, now that he has Emma. Great, but OWEN'S STILL RIGHT THERE.

Despite the narrative trying to tell us that Noah is a nicer person because of Emma, he's still clearly selfish AF. You could even say he's gotten WORSE now. And that really fucking sucks.

So when I say Noah's character arc is a circle, I mean it. His selfish actions have not changed, despite three years, a girlfriend, and the nicest best friend in the world.

3) RR as a season doesn't suit Noah. What do I mean by that? Well, RR is a season where everyone is divided into pairs that rarely interact with each other. It's not that they never interact - the Icedancers and the Cops rivalry is unmatched, but that they don't do it all that often. It's more coincidental to run into another group than anything else. At least that's the vibe I got.

But Noah is a character who thrives off being mean to a variety of people that he's had time to observe. In WT, Noah got to make fun of Tyler and Izzy and Alejandro and Sierra and Heather and Chris, all people he knew pretty well. Noah doesn't know the people in RR. And the only ones he gets close to are Owen, his girlfriend, and his girlfriend's sister. The latter two are off-limits to insult, so Owen gets stuck with all the mean things.

And this doesn't work, because Noah's best insults are ones that are either make you say a) 'nah, he's got a point though" b) "ayy get them, they deserve it" or c) "why would you say something like that lmao, what's wrong with you?"

A is him dissing Alejandro, B is Chris, and C is the dodgeball episode.

But him being mean to Owen is none of those things. Owen isn't a bad person, and although he makes mistakes, none of them are deserving of harsh criticism. Especially considering Owen is supposed to be, you know, his friend. And Owen is more capable than Noah this season, so it just lands flat. The only thing you can take away from Noah being mean to Owen is that Noah is an asshole. And true... but. Not in an interesting way.

By limiting Noah to just Owen as his main target of snark, it makes him seem like an asshole. Which is actually okay imo. Noah's a shitty person, and I like watching shitty people. But there's nothing gained from it in the show. Owen practically never calls him out on being shitty. In fact, even though Noah lost him the show and made everything more difficult, Owen remarks that "he's just happy to be with his lil buddy." Bruh... can someone save this man? Please? Sweetie, you deserve so much better.

There is ONE moment I'd like to highlight that challenges this. One episode, Noah is required to perform air guitar on stage. He's reluctant because he finds the whole thing embarrassing and his crush is watching and omg does Noah have stage fright? Is he shy? haha it's kinda cute and actually believable. Owen points out that he needs Noah to do it anyway, asking Noah to be his "hero." And Noah... does. He goes out there, he air-guitars away, and it's a really good moment. It shows Noah's flaws, how they affect the people around him. It's great to see Owen stand up for himself and confront him, and it's lovely to see Noah respond and change his stance to help his friend.

And then he refuses to help his friend a few episodes later. So... ehh. Good job, hero.

4)N*mma. I think what's wrong with N*mma is that TD writers are incapable of writing a woman being the romantic initiator unless they're crazy - Izzy, Sierra. Otherwise, the woman should ALWAYS be approached by the man first. The man should always be making the first moves or the first flirtations. After all, to keep tension in a relationship, there needs to be a question of "will they get together." And what man WOULDN'T want a girlfriend? What guy would ever turn down a gf? Whereas a girl can ponder and wonder and think "oh i don't know him that well, oh im not sure." But no one ever extends that waiting period to guys. They're just expected to always be down for women.

But Noah isn't an "average" guy. He's antisocial. He doesn't flirt, he looks down on romance, and he's never expressed concern about getting a girl. And he's never, ever, put in effort to woo someone. Never! Noah is very anti-effort. King.

But hey, TD needs to write him in a romance, and the only romance they write requires the guy to simp for a girlboss. So Noah starts simping for a girlboss. I must admit I don't think the idea of Noah simping is complete trash. But it needs to be worked up to. Or at the very least, denied until Noah can deny it no longer.

(Also when has Noah being into girlbosses? I know TD is into girlbosses, since they've written, like, 50, but Noah? Noah's has shown nothing but disdain for Courtney and Heather. Also there's the fact that Emma tries to cut Noah's hair against his will with a fish? And talks about marriage and family like... 2 days into their relationship? I'm confused why that isn't a turn off to Noah. He's the one who warned Owen about Izzy, right? He's the one who made fun of Sierra for being stalker? So why is he into it now? Answer me Fresh)

Anyway.... it's like Total Drama doesn't know the meaning of "gradual." And tbf, with 32 contestants and a half hour show time, it's hard to write a slow burn. They don't have the time for it.

Still, they could have done better. The easiest way to fix N*mma, imo, is to just rip off Pride and Prejudice plotline. Emma already has a kid sister. Like, imagine Emma and Noah dislike each other had first, mean sarcastic nerds that they are. They dislike each other, Noah has a crush on her but is hiding it, and is pushed to confess by Owen.

Doesn't work out because his confession sucks because Noah has ZERO social skills.

N*mma take some time off, Kitty falls into the ocean or smth, Noah rescues her, and Emma is like "wow ur a good nice person after all" and Noah's like "i just had to save her, i couldn't let her die" and then they kiss or smth. Like come on Fresh, why didn't you go with that? Pride and Prejudice is in the public domain!! Like no one was stopping you.

All in all, if N*mma had to be written, it should have been like I said, or Duncney style. Noah should be allowed to be mean and grow from it.

And that's what's wrong with N*mma. Noah is mean but does not grow from it. He gets Emma regardless of how he treats Owen. They're completely separate things. His struggle to get Emma to like him has LESS to do with Noah, and more to do with Emma's own issues. Like you're telling me Noah's in a relationship, and he's NOT the problem? He should have been the problem. Ughh.

So when I say N*mma was poorly written, I mean that it has insta-love, that Noah does not act like himself in the relationship, and that Emma doesn't make him a substantially better person. (I know he gave Jake the rings, but he doesn't help his own bestie in the end, ... so its rlly hard to say he's grown.)

Tl;dr Noah in RR is forced into a romance plotline he doesn't fit, and ditches the self-improvement plotline that we were all rooting for, ending up in the same place as he started. Noah's romance should have served to highlight his character growth not BE his character growth. It's peak TD writing, honestly. He betrays his team for his girl like Trent did in TDA. He falls for her as fast as Duncan did for Gwen in WT. And the way he treats Owen, his supposed friend, somewhat resembles how Leshawna chose to view Heather in WT. Sad.

[loopspoop]

It was as if he was in a complete void. There was no feeling at all. Except for a small evergrowing creep of cold all around him. Like he was back in the snow. He opened his eyes halfway, having completely run out of energy from that action alone.

The room was still dark. But it only seemed a bit darker than it had when he had gotten back. Good. He had only been out for a few minutes then. He noted, however, that the blankets and sheets had returned to their original places. Had a maid come in to fix the room? Interesting. He hadn’t given this motel enough credit.

He attempted to sit up, but began shaking heavily at the effort of it. Despite that, he pushed himself more, feeling the need to get up NOW, to fix everything in that very moment. Instead, he collapsed onto his side and began throwing up, burning his throat in the process.

His energy had completely run dry.

…………

“This was just a painting wasn’t it? Just about the museum’s security? We weren’t dealing with anything bigger were we?” Jigen was now pacing around the room, despite his several efforts to hide his discomfort with an aloof wall. Goemon was still in his position for meditation, but found it hard to focus with Jigen loud thinking. Or at least that was his excuse, while he himself attempted to rationalize the situation.

“Not that I am aware of.”

“So … why?” He crushed his hat against his head.

“Lupin would not relinquish his prize easily.”

“I KNOW THAT!”

“Perhaps he is merely hiding from whatever force has caused all of this. You did not mention any signs of struggle.”

Jigen paused, thinking on the statement, “You’re right.”

“Then perhaps it is best to wait. Even in times of trouble, Lupin has always found his own way out.”

“But then why isn’t he here?”

Goemon couldn’t argue that. It had been frequently making appearances in his own thoughts. He remained silent. What were they to do if he WAS in trouble? There were no leads on where to find him. It was as if he disappeared completely.

…………

If they were still in town, then it wouldn’t take long for Zenigata to track them down. He knew just about everything about the little group. They always chose a house or lone building, apartments and hotel rooms were more Fujiko’s style. And usually on the edges of society, away from the eyes of anyone who might recognize them too soon. Except for rare occasions, this would give him the fastest results. On his several assumptions he went to the appropriate local offices to assist in his search.

Being in a smallish town, it was simple for them to pull the recently purchased and rented properties, and even shorter time for Zenigata to find his target. It was exactly their style. A small rented property about twenty minutes out, but perfectly triangulated between the town and the museum. Just enough for it to be invisible to both.

“This is where Lupin is hiding,” he said, pointing to the property which he had picked from the pile.

On his way to the house, in planning his method of attack, he had missed the small yellow car making its way into town driving past his own cohort of cars.

…………

He woke up feeling somewhat refreshed. At least, comparatively. Perhaps he had just needed a moment of rest. He reached and grabbed some of the fruit that had fallen onto the floor. Simply eating a few bites felt as though it restored him to his normal state, and after finishing a whole fruit, he allowed himself a moment to relish in the feeling of normalcy.

After that time, he rose and went back to the bathroom to check on his injuries once again. Most of them had closed up by now, however the wound on his head seemed to have opened back up when he had fallen.  He reached for the first aid kit. Damn it. It was gone. The maid must have taken it back when cleaning the room. He needed something to fix himself up with. He thought momentarily about using the tissue paper that had appeared on the counter since his last visit, but he knew that was, at best, a very temporary solution.

He determined it would be fine for a short time. So he fixed himself up, ate the rest of his fruit, threw a wet towel over where he had been lying, and collapsed back into the bed. He would go back out once he had restored more of his strength.

…………

Jigen and Goemon arrived in town, disguised of course, in order to stock up on supplies before the shops closed for the night. They had been planning to be in this place only long enough for the heist, their food and other supplies reflecting that. But now they were lost in where to go. Without telling each other, their real reason for being there was the small hope of coming across Lupin. Surely, he would just pop out of nowhere like he so often did.

It was quiet as the car came to a stop. The two “old” men got out of the car and separated from each other to search for their own needs. They had both agreed to meet back again in an hour and a half.

…………

The house was empty. That was disappointing. But there were clear signs that they had been here. And recently. So, they may still be here. Zenigata prepared for the odds, and instructed his underlings to do the same. They would surprise the group upon its return.

👀 I’m so hype to figure out who gets to him first

[undercovergamer]

✨Laughing Your Worries Away✨

I couldn’t decide which pic was better so this one has two

⚠️This fic focuses mainly on tickling. Do not read it if that upsets you. also contains angst cus Kaveh is anxious⚠️

After sort of becoming Kaveh’s “emotional support oni”, he felt that he should come up with more fun ways of cheering him up whenever he’s sad. No Kavehs were harmed in the writing of this fic.

Content warning: Kaveh is very anxious in the beginning which can be upsetting to read. Hi I edited the summary bc it was too long lol

Note: This is a silly scenario I made up with a friend. Basically Itto is in Sumeru because lazy writing and he’s staying with Alhaitham and Kaveh until he returns to Inazuma, also because lazy writing. We don’t need logic in silly fics like this, right?

Word Count: 3303

“Argh! It’s no use! Something will go wrong, I just know it!”

“Nuh uh! I bet it’ll be lots of fun, actually.“

“Anything can happen, which means anything can go wrong!”

“Or… it means anything can go right, instead. Right?”

“No it doesn’t! That’s not how it works… Do you even know how unlucky I’ve been recently? Who knows when that’ll end?!”

Kaveh was overthinking an event he was going to attend in a few days, panicking over all the possible accidents and mistakes that could ruin everything. He was sure something would go horribly wrong, just not what exactly. It was really stressing him out. Itto was trying his best to help, but Kaveh’s just couldn’t listen. Every time a solution came up, another problem came down.

“Kaveh, please, try to be more rational here, alright? Just think of all the good things that can happen instead! Like... what if you win a prize?” Itto suggested, trying to comfort him.

“Oh, please. How I wish I could! What if something breaks? Or- Or catches fire?! What if it rains and I forget my keys again? What if- I just- I- I can’t- Ugh!! I’m gonna make a complete fool of myself!” Kaveh was stress-pacing back and forth in his room and messing with his hair. He was too anxious to think straight, poor guy.

“Hey, hey, easy now. Take deep breaths.” Itto was trying to de-escalate the situation.

“No! I can’t! This is serious!”

“Please, you need to chill for a bit… all this stress isn’t good for you. Let’s just sit down and we’ll-”

“Ugh, it’s no use, Itto! I can’t just ignore my problems like that! I’m sorry…” Kaveh turned around put his hands in his face for a moment before groaning and anxiously pacing back and forth again. Itto sighed, trying to keep his patience. He didn’t want to be upset with Kaveh, it’s not like he can help that he’s anxious. Hmm, what to do…

“Ah… do you need a hug?” Itto asked, extending his arms and smiling. “You sound like you really need one. C’mere!” Kaveh turned to him with tears in his eyes. If words didn’t work, surely actions would, right?

“F-Fine. M-Maybe just- *sniffle*… j-just one h-h-hug.” Kaveh had tears streaming down his face the moment he accepted Itto’s hug, collapsing into his arms and sobbing. Itto hugged tight and comforted him while he cried, making sure to hold his balance.

“There, there… sshh… it’s gonna be ok. You’re safe… I’ve got you.” Itto said calmly, giving him a gentle headpat. He was starting to tear up as well, but held it together so Kaveh wouldn’t feel worse.

“H-H-How *hic* d-do you *hic* know??” Kaveh sobbed, burying his face in Itto’s shoulder. He was always surprised by how gentle Itto could be, unlike his usual high energy and loudness. It always caught him off-guard a little bit.

“You’ll feel better after you’ve cried, trust me. It’s okay… Just let it aaall out. And remember to breathe...” Itto held him close, gently stroking his back and slowly rocking back and forth.

“Take a deep breath in through your nose.” He said, inhaling and holding his breath for a few seconds. “Hold it for a bit... then, exhale through your mouth. Like this!” He said, slowly exhaling to demonstrate. Eventually, the architect began sobbing less and breathing more, trying to calm down with the breathing exercise Itto suggested. It seemed to be working fine.

After a while, Kaveh could finally compose himself and stop crying. He stayed in the hug for a bit before letting go to wipe his tears away.

“There you go… Do you feel better now?” Itto asked softly, handing him a tissue.

“Yeah… I-… I really needed that. Thank you.” Kaveh replied, blowing his nose into the tissue before throwing it in the bin.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel... fine, I guess.”

“You look sad…”

“Oh… no, no, I’m not sad. I just… ugh…” Kaveh sighed. He was actually feeling better than before, but it was only a matter of time before he’d start overthinking again. He felt so hopless… Itto needed to solve that; he knew exactly how.

“Hmm… you know, I think I know something else that could cheer you up.” Itto said with a sudden grin.

“Wh-What are you doing? D-Don’t- No funny business!” Kaveh felt nervous. Every time Itto had that expression, he’d conduct mischief.

“Hey, c’mon, I’m not gonna do anything bad!” He looked really suspicious… definitely up to no good.

“I-I know, but- uh- d-don’t look at me like that! Ooh, I just KNOW you’re planning something…” Kaveh glared at him and took a step back.

“Heheheh. Oh you are absolutely right, my friend...” Itto chuckled and began wiggling his fingers in the air. Kaveh’s eyes widened as he realized what that meant.

“D-Don’t even THINK about it! Don’t you dare!” Kaveh protested, but it didn’t have any effect as Itto slowly came closer, chuckling to himself.

“I’m gonna get you~” he teased.

“S-Stay back, or I’ll- uh…” Kaveh backed up against a wall, realizing he’d have to make a run in for it.

“Or what, you’ll tell Haitham?” Itto teased. Kaveh suddenly tried to escape by running past Itto to get out of the room. But of course it backfired as Itto quickly caught him and held him tight with a playful hug from behind. “Haha! Gotcha!”

“Agh! Let me go, you brute!” Kaveh squirmed, trying to break free, but he wasn’t strong enough.

“Hey! That’s not very nice!” Itto replied, still smiling with mischief.

“I-…! I uh… s-sorry… I-I just-”

“Hey now, no guilt! It’s alright, buddy! Don’t worry. I’m gonna cheer you up in the most effective way I know!”

“B-But this is unfair! I can barely move!” Kaveh complained, looking down in frustration.

“Good thing I can! Heheh. Are you ticklish, Kaveh?” Itto asked, playfully forming his hands into claws on Kaveh’s sides.

The architect began nervously giggling at the sight, but tried to stay cool. “D-Dohon’t be ridiculous! O-Of course nohot!”

“Reeaaally? Are you sure about that?” Itto teased, clawing one single time, resulting in a jump and surprised squeal out of Kaveh. Itto laughed at his reaction.

“H-Hey! That’s not funny! L-Let me go!” Kaveh giggled against his will, trying to break free. His face was slowly turning red from embarrassment.

“Sounds pretty ticklish to me! This’ll be fun!” Itto said teasingly, slowly beginning to tickle Kaveh.

“ACK- D-Don’t you dare!! Y-You- hngh...” The architect twitched and yelped, trying very hard to keep his giggles in by covering his mouth.

“Tickle tickle~ come on! It’s not fun if you won’t laugh!” Itto suddenly started tickling faster, scribbling over Kaveh’s ribs. “Tickle tickle tickle~!”

Kaveh squealed at the sudden sensation and began laughing and squirming. “EEEHEHEHEHE!! Ahahahahahahahaha!! Nohohohoho!!” He tried is best to break free from the oni’s grasp, but the hug remained strong.

“Haha, got you! Tickle tickle tickle!” Itto giggled along with Kaveh, spider-tickling his ribs and tummy.

“EEK! Ahahahahahaha!! Ittohoho!! Plehehehehease!!” Kaveh squealed, trying to bend forward to protect himself. Itto responded by lifting him up in a bear hug and tickling his waist. The man let out a scream before laughing and kicking like crazy. “PUHUT MEHEHE DOHOHOHOWN!! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

“Grrr! There’s no escape from the tickle monster! Mwahahaha!” Itto laughed, playfully putting him down and letting go before tickling his sides. “Tickle tickle tickle!!”

“EEK!! BahahahaHAHAHAHA!! G-Gehehet awahahahahahay!!” Kaveh laughed, trying to push Itto away.

“Hehehehe! I got you~!” Itto teased, playfully following Kaveh down as he lost balance and squirmed to the floor. Itto stopped tickling to make sure he didn’t get hurt.

“S-Seriously? The… huff… the tickle monster?! Come on… that’s… huff… that’s just childish…!” Kaveh said, panting heavily.

“Hahahaha! Y’know, you haven’t told me to stop yet. Are you having fun?” Itto asked with a giddy grin on his face. He was sat on the floor, next to the architect.

“I- uh, y-you- um…” Kaveh’s face turned red from embarrassment. He wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

Itto laughed. “Ah, I get it. You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?”

“H-How did you know?!” Kaveh questioned, feeling flustered. Itto was probably gonna tell everyone, he thought. Oh how humiliating…

“Well for one, you haven’t said ‘stop it’ even once, and uh… well, your face got all red when I pointed that out. Hahahaha!”

“S-Stop laughing! It’s not funny!” Kaveh covered his face with his hands.

“Hehehe, sorry! I’m not laughing at you, I just think it’s silly. Anyway, do you want me to stop tickling you yet? Or should I continue?” Itto chuckled and wiggled his fingers above Kaveh.

“Y-You better n-not-… pfft-” Kaveh started giggling from anticipation again, trying to keep it in.

“Listen, all you have to do is tell me ‘stop’ and I’ll stop, alright? I promise!” Itto said, giving him a friendly smile.

“It- It can’t be that easy…” Kaveh said under his breath, but Itto heard him anyway.

“Oh, but it is! I don’t wanna make you panic, y’know. I’m still tickling you because I know you’re enjoying yourself.” Itto playfully poked his tongue out and chuckled to himself.

Kaveh got nervous. “O-Ok fine, y-you got me… uh… p-please don’t tell anyone! I-I don’t know what I’d do if- uh-…”

“Hey, hey! Relax! I won’t tell a soul. Not even Ushi! My lips are sealed. No one shall know! I promise!” Itto said, giving Kaveh a reassuring pat on the head.

“Thank you…” Kaveh said, sighing with relief.

“No problemo, hombre! Now… where else are you ticklish?” Itto asked, tickling Kaveh’s sides and ribs without warning.

“EEK! AAHAHAHAHahahahaha!! ITTO NAHAHAHA!!” Kaveh squealed, squirming around on the floor. Again, he was surprised with how gentle Itto was. He thought the tickling would hurt at first, but oh how wrong he was. The oni was as gentle as he was merciless… in a playful way of course.

“Hehehe! Tickle tickle, Kaveh!” Itto teased, tickling down to his tummy and waist as high pitched laughter and squeals filled the room. “Just let me know when you’ve had enough, alright? Say ‘okay’ if you heard that!”

“EHEHEHE!! Ohohokahahahahay!! AhahahAHAHAHAHA!! N-NOT THERE!!” Kaveh screeched, trying to roll away from the tickles.

“Aha! A weak spot! Heheheh, I win!” Itto exclaimed, playfully squeezing the architect’s waist.

After a little while, Itto heard a voice from outside the room.

“What’s with all the noise? What are y-… …oh.” It was Alhaitham, checking the situation out of curiosity. “Itto, what are you doing..?” he asked, rolling his eyes at the scene.

“Oh hey, man! I’m just tickling Kaveh! He was feeling stressed so I thought I’d distract him for a while!” Itto replied, poking all over Kaveh’s ribs.

“EEK! NohohoHOHOHO!! AAH! Not like thahahahat!!” Kaveh protested, covering his sensitive ribs with his arms.

“Don’t you think that has the opposite effect..?” Alhaitham asked, confused.

“Naah he’s fine. It’s working pretty well, I’d say.” Itto giggled to himself and began playfully squeezing his sides instead.

“AAHAHAHAHAHA!! AHALHAHAITHAHAM HEHEHEHELP!!” Kaveh screeched, squirming even more and trying really hard to roll away and escape.

Itto laughed and stopped tickling him. “You good, bro?” He asked, helping him sit up and patting him on the back.

“Haha… hah… y-yeah…” Of course Alhaitham had to show up. Kaveh could simply die from embarrassment.

“Kaveh, I hope you realize you don’t have to just lie there and take it.” Alhaitham said, looking down at him.

“Naah man, don’t worry about it! He’s fine, really! We-” Kaveh quickly covered Itto’s mouth and hissed “Sshhh!! You weren’t supposed to say anything!”

Alhaitham rolled his eyes. “Kaveh, for your own good you should at least try to fight back. It’s not as hard as you’d think.” He said, looking at Itto.

“Whoa whoa, hang on, are you saying I’m weak? Ha! That is simply absurd! How dare you?” Itto scoffed, crossing his arms.

“No, that’s not what I meant, Itto. Let me show you.” Alhaitham quickly poked his side, making him jump and protest.

“Wha- Hey! Don’t do that! I’m not- I’m not ticklish! I just- pfft-” Itto was interrupted by yet another poke, this time from Kaveh who was now curiously poking away at his ribs, sending the oni into a giggling fit.

“Hehehey! Nohohohohahahaha!” He giggled, trying to defend himself.

“Wow, no way! I never would’ve guessed an oni like you would be so ticklish!” Kaveh said, chuckling to himself.

“Hahahaha! I’m nahahahahat!!”

“You are! Tickle tickle tickle!”

“Nohohoho!! Pfft- stahahahap!!” Itto managed to push Kaveh’s hands away to stop him from tickling. “Ohoho, you’re not gonna get me that easily! You’re in trouble now!” he said, grinning.

“W-Wahahait nohoho! A-Alhaitham, do somethihing!” Kaveh pleaded, giggling nervously.

“I’ve got better things to do. I’m sorry, Kaveh.” Alhaitham replied.

“B-But-”

“See ya.”

“No! NO WAIT!” Alhaitham left the room and Kaveh started squirming, trying to escape his playful demise.

“Heheheh, looks like ol’ Haitham can’t help you now, huh?” Itto said with a somewhat menacing grin.

“Oh, by the way,” Alhaitham poked his head through the doorway. “Itto, get his hips.”

“WHAT?! D-Don’t tell him that!! Are you crazy?!” Kaveh yelled, glaring daggers into Alhaitham.

“Ooh, you don’t say~?” Itto already guessed that area was particularly sensitive, but decided to play along for the sake of evil.

“Mhm. Anyway, see ya.” The scribe simply smirked and left the scene, closing the door.

“Alhaitham, you are SO DEAD after this!!” Kaveh yelled angrily, but he started giggling uncontrollably when he heard Itto’s sinister chuckle. That grin sent shivers down his spine. The anticipation was through the roof!

“I-Itto, wait! Y-You don’t have to- pfft-hehehe nohohohoho!! Wahahait!!” He tried, and failed, to crawl away in time.

“I’m gonna get you~! Hehehe!” Itto caught him before he could escape.

“Nohohoho!” Kaveh quickly covered his sensitive hips as best as he could.

“Oh, that just won’t do.” Itto could simply move Kaveh’s arms himself, but he was worried that’d make him panic. So instead, he decided tickling them away was a safer option.

“EEK! AhahaHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOT THAHAHAHAT!!” Kaveh squealed when Itto began rapidly poking all over his ribs and tum, with more fingers this time. Why on earth did that tickle so bad?!

“Hehe, this is fun! You’re no match for my signature ten-finger-pokes! Hahaha!” Itto bragged, giggling along with Kaveh’s laughter. Soon enough, the architect gave in to his instincts and tried to cover his ribs with his arms instead. That’s when Itto’s hands quickly latched onto the architect’s hips, summoning a surprised squeal.

“Waitwaitwaitwait nohohoho!! Nononono don’t you DARE!! I- ehehehehe!! Plehehehease!!” Kaveh grabbed Itto’s wrists, but wasn’t strong enough to pull them away.

“Heheheh, you haven’t said ‘stop’ yet, buddy. Still having fun? Hmm?” Itto teased, laughing when Kaveh’s face turned red.

“J-Just you wait! You’ll be sorry!! I’ll get my revehehEHEHEHENGE!! GWAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!” Itto began rapidly squeezing his hips. Kaveh screamed and arched his back, kicking and flailing around, unable to struggle properly. His wild laughter even rose an octave or two. Those ticklish shockwaves were so bad he couldn’t think straight!

“Hahaha! Aw, does it tickle? Kitchy kitchy koo!” Itto teased, laughing with Kaveh.

“AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEASE!! N-NAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!!” Kaveh screeched, shaking his head and desperately trying to push Itto’s hands away. He had been laughing so much that tears were starting to fall from his eyes.

“Should I stop?” Itto asked, smiling playfully, switching to gently scribbling on Kaveh’s tum to make his laughter less frantic.

“EHEHEHEHE!! Y-Yehehehes!! Plehehehease stohohop!!” Kaveh pleaded. Itto stopped tickling immediately and helped his buddy sit up. Kaveh was panting heavily and wiping away his tears of mirth, with a tired smile on his face.

“Whoa, looks like I broke you there. A-Are you ok?? …Did I go too far?” Itto asked, suddenly feeling worried.

“Ha… haha… I-I’m fine… hehehe…!” Kaveh replied, catching his breath while still giggling a little bit. His hair was a mess after all that squirming.

“Are you sure? You look exhausted...”

“Hahaha… ehehe… haha… I-It’s fine, really… I… I had fun…” Kaveh said, smiling at the oni. He looked pretty happy!

“Really? That’s awesome! Hahaha! I’m just glad I didn’t overwhelm you too badly. Here, let me help!” Itto stood up and reached his hand out so he could help Kaveh up.

“Thanks… hehe… phew… th-that was a lot..!”

“Take it easy now, breathe. Do you feel better now?” He asked happily.

“Huh? What do you…” Kaveh thought for a moment. Thanks to Itto, he had completely forgotten his worries. “Huh… I actually feel really happy! I feel so much better!” He smiled brightly, feeling grateful for the oni’s help.

“Hahaha! I’m so glad to hear that! Really glad you had fun, Kaveh.” Itto replied excitedly, giving him a tight, playful hug.

“Hngh… c-can’t… b-breathe..!” Kaveh wheezed.

“Oops! Oh sorry, hahaha!” Itto loosened the hug and laughed happily. “Hey, do you need water? I can go get some for you!”

“N-No! D-Don’t leave yet...” Kaveh said, hugging him tighter.

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing. I just… just wait… please.” He was feeling a bit overwhelmed and needed the hug to calm down fully.

“Aw, ok! We’ll hug for as long as you need, buddy!” Itto held him close and gently rocked back and forth to help him chill.

After a bit of silence, Kaveh took a deep breath to compose himself. He had something important to say now that his brain was working again.

“…Itto, I-... thank you for cheering me up. I-It means a lot to me. That was really nice of you, I… I appreciate it. A lot. Thank you so much…” he said, hugging him closer.

“Aww, no problem! That’s so sweet of you to say! I’m really glad I could help. Let me know next time you’re feeling down, and I’ll tickle the sadness away!” Itto playfully tickled Kaveh’s sides for a bit.

“EEK! Hehehey! Nohohoho!” Kaveh jumped and squirmed away from the hug.

“Hahaha! See how easy it is? You look so happy now!” Itto exclaimed, stopping the tickles again.

“Haha... That’s not gonna work every time, though! Please, make sure you ask first. Sometimes I don’t want to be touched at all.” Kaveh said, placing a boundary.

“Gotcha! I’ll make sure to always ask first! You have my word on it. No discomfort on my watch!”

“Thank you, Itto. But don’t go thinking I’ll let you off the hook without revenge! Just you wait.”

“Hahaha! No problem, my guy! I won’t make it easy for you, though!” Itto said, giving him a playful look. Then he pointed at him and said, “You, my good sir, need to drink water. Like… right now. C’mon!”

“Haha, alright. Fine.” Kaveh replied, following him to the kitchen.

After they both hydrated, Itto started another conversation.

“Let’s go outside! I bet I can help you plan for that event!” he said.

“A-Are you sure? There’s a lot to consider…”

“Of course I’m sure! Not to brag or anything, but I’m a PRO at organizing events!”

“Well, we’re not exactly organizing it...”

“Hey, trust me! I know what I’m doing! We can come up with ideas together and write them down. And you can get inspiration from nature itself! How cool is that??”

“Oh alright, but no sudden decisions! We need to give each idea a good amount of thought first.”

“Suuure, of course… Hahahaha!”

Once they went for a walk outdoors, Itto continued to passionately rant about all the event’s possibilities while Kaveh listened and took notes. It felt nice to hear suggestions from an excited perspective rather than an anxious one, he thought. He still couldn’t believe how tickling actually helped him calm down of all things. And he certainly couldn’t believe how Alhaitham just betrayed him like that… but that was for future Kaveh to think about. Now, it was time to chill and brainstorm with Itto.

[poprockpanda]

Out Of The Fire And Into My Hands: Chapter 1

Cold. Pain. Darkness. 

That’s how Wilbur woke up every day. But today he would change that, or die trying. He’s spent months aboard this horrible vessel, nothing but a test subject. Months and months of planning would come to a head today. 

Today was the day when he would finally get out.

He sat up from the rotting pile of fabric scraps that he called his bed and let his eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent lights that shone in from the hallway. Everything outside of his cell was disgustingly white and sterile while the inside of his cell was a sad shade of gray paint that was covered in scratches and tears. It was a pathetic comparison to his wonderfully colorful home.

As he looked around his cell he saw the many discarded rations shoved into the corner. If he was stuck here he sure wasn’t going to be compliant and let those bastards try to poison him. His eyes eventually landed on the bars that held him here.

One of his jailers had been stupid enough to drop a screwdriver within reach of his cell. He had been using it to chip at the bars bit by bit. All he needed was to work the weak points enough and he could snap the bars. 

He leaned towards the bars, looking into the hallway. He saw only 2 guards, both pretty young looking and seemingly unarmed. Those fools let the newbies guard. And now their greatest prize is going to escape. 

He let his hands drift to the weakened bars, sudden movements would draw too much attention. One last check that the guards weren’t close enough to reach him in time and he gripped the bars, snapping them with an audible crack.

He stood with the broken bars in his hands, still slightly shocked that his plan worked. He took a deep breath and stepped out of his cell. His first willing step in this damned place and it was time to make the most of it.

As he stood in the crushingly bland hallway he realized one thing. He didn’t know the fuck the way out of here was. His fool-proof plan wasn’t as perfect as he thought it was. He noticed that one of the guards was making their way back to the end of the hallway. 

Looks like it’s time for an ambush. They might have some keys. He turned back to his cell and tried to make a step into it. But his legs wouldn’t move. He willed himself to move but his feet stayed planted in their place. “Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way then.” He sighed as he saw the guard stop in their tracks. 

He turned to the guard, the air tense. “You just gonna stand there, or are you going to fight me, coward?” he growled. They started scrambling for something in their pocket as Wilbur approached. His shadow enveloped them and they looked up. The pure fear in their eyes filled Wilbur with a feeling of power that he dearly missed.

He stood and stared with a smug grin as he waited for their move. Their face hardened and they swung towards him with the tiniest pocket knife he’d ever seen. The blow easily bounced off his thick scales. “Is that all you got?!?” He said with dark laughter bubbling in his chest. He lifted the broken bar and hit square across the side of the guard’s head. They fell with a heavy thud, Wilbur moving too quickly for them to even scream.

But he did hear a scream from the other end of the hallway. Wilbur turned to face the source. His smile started to fade as the sirens started blaring in his ear. The other guard had pulled the alarm and decided that charging him was the best course of action. They got in his range, he struck their skull, and they fell like the other.

Looks like it’s time to get out of here before the armed backup arrives. Got to find the hanger and get out of this hell hole.

Wilbur started running through the labyrinth of a ship. It felt like he had been running for miles until something caught his eye, a steel door with a bright yellow triangle painted over it and a button off to the side.

Must be something dangerous. Exactly what I need.

He double-checked that no guards were coming at him before clicking the button.

The doors opened up and he stepped in. He was met with an average-looking lab.

Huh. Maybe that’s just the labeling system. Might as well look for a map here.

He walked over to one of the desks with a messy pile of paper and started rummaging around in it. He pulled out drawer after drawer. Nothing. Well, this was useless. He stood up to leave and was about to head out the door when he saw a small bit of movement in the corner of his eye and his head snapped in its direction. His gaze was directed towards a small glass cage with small holes in the sides and many plain-looking plants. He tilted his head in confusion until one of the bushes rustled.

He found himself walking towards the cage, his curiosity getting the better of him. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that the cage was home to a small creature. Water and food bowls the size of his claw sat empty in the middle of the cage. He tapped on the glass, unsure what he was doing this for. The plants rustled again and he heard a yawn.

***

As Tommy was pulled from his dreamless sleep all he could feel was the shaking of his enclosure. He immediately sat up and got to his feet. He dusted himself off and was about out step out of his plant cover but couldn’t do it. Come on Tommy! You know it’s worse if you make them wait. Maybe this time they’ll let us take a nap. He worked up all the strength he could muster and stepped out. The bright lights always felt wrong against his skin. He walked closer to the front of his prison. He let his head drop and closed his eyes, waiting for the hand to come.

But it didn’t.

He peeked open his eyes and saw an enormous reptilian face pushed up against the glass. He barely held back a flinch. He didn’t recognize this alien and they weren’t wearing the uniform. It seemed like they had a bright orange tag around their wrist just like Tommy’s. He tilted his head and they tilted theirs too.

They seem different. Somethings up. Maybe I can try something. He lifted up his wrist that had the tag and held it out to the alien. They looked shocked and lifted theirs to the glass as well. It was definitely a tag. 

He stumbled away from the glass as he realized what that meant. They escaped. He looked back to the alien, their expression twisted slightly with concern. Maybe they can take me with them. They could get me out of this place!

He walked back to the glass, surprising the alien, and placed his hand upon it. The alien placed a clawed finger on their side of the glass. Tommy smiled and removed his hand. He made sure that the alien was paying attention and he pointed to the hatch on the ceiling of his cage, hoping that they would understand.

They seemed to catch his hint and pulled the hatch up, the slightest bit of hesitation in their movements.  As the alien hand moved to lay flat on the strange material that made up the bottom of his enclosure he felt his heart sink with the realization that he would have to be picked up to leave. He tried to subtly back up but his foot caught on one of many fake plants, causing him to stumble. 

He hoped that the alien didn’t notice. They get mad when they notice. He shook away the thought as he turned his face up to meet the alien’s. Where he thought he would find a look of anger he found soft eyes and concern. This isn’t them, they aren’t here right now. If we can move we won’t ever have to see them again.

Tommy brought his gaze forward and took a deep breath. He moved his leg and planted it, even though his leg shook horribly. We are a big man and a big man would get out of here. We can do this. He took another step and another and another until he reached the scaly hand. 

He placed his hand upon it and found it cool to the touch. Taking one last deep breath he sat down in the center of the hand. He tried to ignore the alien’s eyes burning into him as the hand lifted out of the accursed cage.

He was lifted to meet the alien’s eyes and they seemed to be looking him over with a gentle gaze. Their eyes filled with a firey determination as the hand was lowered to the alien’s chest. Tommy felt an unexpected feeling of safety radiating off the alien as he let himself sink into the alien’s scrappy jacket.

***

Seeing how malnourished and bruised the little life in his hand looked only solidified his suspicions. This was a child. Those monsters had been torturing a child. He was now filled with dangerous anger. He was going to get both of them out. He brought his hand to his chest, cupping it slightly to make sure they were secured. He took a deep breath to bring his focus back to the tasks at hand. He would make these bastards pay one way or another but he had to get them out of here first.

He stepped out of the bland lab into the hallway when he suddenly remembered what he was looking for. But as he turned back around to look in the lab the metal doors slammed shut. He tried the button but the doors wouldn’t budge. And even better yet he heard heavy footsteps closing in fast. 

As he debated staying to fight or running aimlessly in the endless halls, he felt a light tug at his jacket. He looked down to find the kid pointing down the hall. They seemed to be trying to get him to go that way. Wilbur was about to question how the kid would know the way out when he heard the heavy footsteps dangerously close. 

Wilbur let the kid lead the way as adrenaline kept him going through indistinguishable halls. The kid seemed to have memorized the way around this place. As he ran he noticed the structure of the halls changing. The sterile white, featureless walls were replaced with metallic walls and pipes that stretched on. Suddenly the halls turned into a large, open room. They had finally made it to the spacecraft hanger.

He ran to one of the smaller crafts and got in. As he quickly inspected the vehicle he realized that it needed keys to start. We don’t have time for this. He placed the kid on the dashboard and ripped open a side panel, exposing the ship’s inner workings. Recalling how Tubbo showed him how to jumpstart a ship he started pulling wires as he had been taught.

When the last wire fell into place the craft lit up. He jammed the panel back in and sat down in the control chair. Making sure that the kid was okay he started up the launch sequence. He pressed a button and the exterior hanger door opened. He secured himself and the kid before jerking the controls forward. The ship made an incredibly high-pitched noise as it zoomed off into the expanse of space.

A wave of relief passed over both of them as they were getting further and further away from their prison. Wilbur checked the scanners to see if any ships were tailing them and nothing came up. He breathed a heavy sigh as he set the ship’s autopilot to his beloved home on the remote jungle planet of Azora. He leaned back and relaxed as he let his thoughts wander for hours. He was snapped back when he heard a small gasp off to his side. He looked over, seeing the kid sleeping. They were shivering and shaking. Probably having a nightmare, and wouldn’t blame them. Wilbur gently reached over and scooped them into his hand. He brought his hand to his chest and felt them latch onto his shirt as they slowly stopped shaking. “It’s okay, kid. We’re going somewhere safe. You’re going to love it, and Phil is going to love you.” Assured that the kid was okay he let himself fall asleep with thoughts of his family.

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