#good god ive been on one too many of these trains

[no-tengo-ojos]

PSA: This is what the 'Archivist' is hunting on.

[rashfordian]

daily shuffle ting 📸

[phagodyke]

my god. new contender for most shite day at work this year so far

another morning another free bus journey..

[walk-the-fade]

Coming from DAi, Ive seen so many ppl write their inky as a kid or at youngest 18 bc it changes the dynamic between them and the party...

Has anyone done that/ considered how it would change the relationship with Tav?

Lae'zel being frustrated and terrified that her survival is dependent on a teenager. She's taking orders from someone barely old enough to know their way around life on a good day, but now finding her people and being purified fully hinges on this kid's survival and she will be damned if she doesn't die to protect them.

Wyll sees himself in them, wide eyed and terrified at 17 when he bound himself to a devil and his father cast him out. The gods are cruel for giving children their toughest battles. He's going to give them every piece of advice he has and pledge his blade to their cause.

Gale being even more hesistant to open about The Orb and Mystra and his condition because he thinks it's too much for them. They should be tucked away in a library, they should be walking through Baldur's Gate worried about trinkets and sweets and being home on time so they don't worry their mother... not tasked with saving Faerûn from a cult.

Astarion thinks its annoying at first. "Free" for the first time in 200 years. Illithid tadpole squirming in his head and he's stuck following a literal fetus in hopes of survival. Its laughable. He almost –almost– feels bad about having to feed from them, but young blood is always sweeter. And when they earn his approval he's bitter on their behalf. Forced to be a hero, some beacon of light before you've even explored life and it's simple pleasures? Appalling.

Karlach... oh boy Karlach burns hot when they tell her exactly how old they are. Its stupid- its unfair- ITS BULLSHIT quite honestly. The nickname Soldier becomes so much more. This kid doesn't give up. They can't, Mama K will do everything in her power to stop it. They need a friend in these tough times and shes more than willing to be that person. Gods....

Shadowheart is a little surprised, but she's the one that underestimates them the least, for sure. They're not that much older than when she was taken in by The Dark Lady and her followers. She knows that you become strong when you need to be. It may be unfair but that doesn't make them any less capable as long as they understand the task at hand. She will see to it that they stay on the right path. And when her faith shifts she realizes neither of them deserve to struggle.

As for Halsin, it makes his heart ACHE in his chest when someone so young comes to his rescue. His knee jerk reaction is that they need training, gudiance... protection. But he quickly realizes that's only half true. They are young sure, but they are not helpless. He will help them in anyway that he can whether it be in battle against The Absolute or by carving them little wooden animals while they sleep and leaving them in their tent. They deserve a little happiness amongst the chaos.

Minthara (assuming she has been recruited at Moonrise) is surprised more by the fact that they chose to show her mercy than by their age. Given her upbringing, survival and violence go hand in hand and if this kid has survived this long, faced power of absolute and survived? Than they are worthy of her respect, hands down. She may not always agree with their methods but she will certainly not hesistate to stand beside them.

[thedovesaredying]

Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Cowboy AU

Prologue

Introduction to my fic set within the cowboy AU created by @ghouljams for our dear boy Nikto. This is just a quick starter piece to set the scene for the fic so to say. Also decided to include Sputnik since I don't see many fics including the precious baby!

A/N: Obligatory note that I do not condone the owning of dangerous or wild exotic animals as pets regardless of a country or state's laws. Exotic animals require a large amount of knowledge in their husbandry and specific requirements to ensure the highest standard of welfare is maintained. They should never be treated like domestic animals, they do not make good pets.

Warnings: Discussion of Serious Injury, Limb Amputation.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

Next Part

Nikto had been waiting for death to greet him throughout the entirety of his career. It was simply an inevitable fact of life both in the military and working as a mercenary for hire. People died constantly at his sides, and it quickly became a question of “when” and not “if” the final string would be cut and his body would fail him for the last time. 

There were days when he almost wished for the reaper to claim whatever remained of his empty heart. Torture was tolerable, an old friend at this point, but the months and years of recovery afterwards were what really felt like suffering.  

Alive, and yet completely useless. A fractured mind trapped within an equally ruined body.  

The only thing he could look forward to was getting back to work once his body was finally strong enough to pass medical approval. Tedious as the waiting game could be, he wasn’t stupid enough to push himself beyond his limits like some honour-hungry rookie. No, he waited and saved his strength for when it would one day be needed, for the days when nothing but sheer willpower can save his pitiful soul.  

And yet despite his many brushes with death, he had still yet to be taken by it, even when by all rights he should have been. Death yet remained a stranger.  

But why? Was his mind too corrupt and darkened for even the devil to want to touch? He had never believed in any God, but surely there was one looking down on him and mocking his pathetic existence. How else could he have survived an injury that should have killed him?  

He could remember little of the mission, only the sounds of people shouting orders, the potent scent of smoke and chemicals in the air, and pain. Certainly not the worst pain he’d experienced in his life, a blade to the gut still had the honour of that, but close to it. He was fortunate that the concussion he’d received had left him drifting in and out of unconsciousness for most of the trip back to base.  

His arm was fucked. According to the doctor and the reports from various other operators present on the mission, his elbow was bent in a way it definitely shouldn’t have been, and there was enough shrapnel in the remaining flesh that he might as well have lopped the whole thing off entirely.  

Which is exactly what the doctors ended up doing.  

It was their last resort, but with the complete lack of feeling in the limb coupled with an infection that just couldn’t be stamped out no matter how many antibiotics they pumped into his IV, it was necessary. They tried as hard as possible to save it, but necrosis had set in, and the safest course of action was to remove all damaged and dead tissue.  

He still wasn’t sure what would have been worse, being taken out by sepsis, or dealing with his current existence.  

And what a miserable existence it is.  

KorTac wanted to keep him on – surely, they couldn’t just let a wild beast like him roam free without a firm hand on his leash – but there was very little they could offer for him. Stay with the PMC and become a glorified guard dog? Train bratty little recruits? Sit behind a desk pushing papers nine to five? No, that would destroy what little grasp he still had on his sanity.  

That was how he ended up standing on the rundown porch of a house that could be described in a single word as dilapidated. It was cheap but came with enough land for him to not need to worry about nosy neighbours. He’s so far lacked the motivation to do anything to try and restore the building, but it has four walls and a roof, which is more than can be said for some of the “safe” houses he’s utilised over the years.  

He’d been lucky to discover the place at all with how small the town is. A passing comment from a fellow soldier about the region had caught his attention and, considering the impossibility of returning to Russia, he’d decided to look into it. America was a massive continent, and in the US he wouldn’t be questioned for owning weapons. Even better? This particular state allowed him to continue to keep Sputnik without suspicion.  

The old man who had been selling the house had been sympathetic after he’d played the whole “injured veteran” card and had even offered him a reduced price for the property. It still sickens him to think about how weak he must have looked in that moment, but needs must, and what he needed was a place to call home, even if only for a little while.  

One terrible accident and he’s reduced to begging for help like a stray dog wanting scraps.  

His irritation has the hand of his prosthetic curling gently into the fur of Sputnik’s pelt. All it can do is open and close around things to allow him some form of grip, but it works, and he supposes that’s all that matters. His girl doesn’t seem to care that it’s not a flesh and blood hand petting her, leaning into him regardless.  

She’s the centre of his current predicament and the reason he’s been forced to reach out for help. No amount of puppy dog eyes and wide grins sent his way are enough to save her from a trip to the vet. Or rather, a visit from one.  

He waits patiently as a large car rolls down the gravel road that leads to the small house from the property’s front gate. Sputnik whines as it draws closer, before beginning to laugh with nervous excitement. The moment the vehicle pulls to a stop she moves to investigate, but is quickly stopped with a barked, “МЕСТО!” command from Nikto.  

Sputnik huffs, unimpressed with not being allowed to greet their visitor, but settles for sitting at the top of the stairs while her master approaches.  

In all honesty, Nikto had been expecting a grizzled old man or woman with decades of experience under the belt when the receptionist had promised to send someone with knowledge of exotics. What he wasn’t expecting was... you.  

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Oh my goshhhhhh I just binged all of your eldrich König writing and I’m OBSESSED! I need to know everything, what does it mean that they’re the herald? How many realms are there? What are the geopolitical realities of an (unaligned?) military of summoners? Have summons always been a part of this world’s history?

His mom is the coolest and I love the way the eldrich remind me of Nyx and her many children the chorionic gods.

It’s killing me they haven’t banged it out yet. And if hes bedded other people how did he not know his dick is weird 👀 This konig isnt like others Ive read and I’m just loving the warm and fuzzies from him being such a thoughtful partner but like almost too well adjusted? Miss the pet names though… Can’t wait to read more 💖💯🙌🏻 thank you!

I want them to fuck but unfortunately, here we are. I am suffering so much. Alas, a slow burn must be stirred carefully.

Now! As to what the herald means? I can't say. As to how many realms there are? As many atoms as there are in the universe and then some. They're practically infinite. It just so happens that König comes from one only a couple of realms away. He's not so distant from us, which is part of what allows him to inhabit our reality. If he were too distant, his form wouldn't be able to be corporeal. It wouldn't be able to take shape, period. The farther away a realm is, the less control it has over ours, and likewise us to them.

As for summoners out of the military, summons are very common! Many people call upon summons to help with daily tasks. Some are just for washing dishes or clothes, some are to keep as company on lonely nights. The use of summons varies depending on the person. In this world, humans have dedicated themselves to learning about other realms and pursuing knowledge and arts. They value hard skills made by human hands, though usage of summons to make manufactured goods is still a staple. Some individuals are dedicated to finding more and more summons, others are dedicated to training summons. Humans live luxurious lives these days. After all, if you never have to worry about maintaining a home, what would you do with all the free time? Humans aren't always lazy. Many of us devolved to degeneracy, but those humans didn't last long and didn't produce many more. The ones who had an internal drive were the ones to really carry on having families and pursuing greatness. Though some people still fall through the cracks, humanity has prospered in the age of summons.

Have summons always been here? Not really. They were discovered in the early common era to the start of the industrial age. For this group of humans, the industrial age was the age of summons. The summoning age, if you will. This was what kick-started their technological revolution.

On a different note!

König's mother is a beautiful creature. I truly consider her as close to divine as mortals can bear witness to. I am in awe of her. She is genuinely a fascinating being. She loves her children, she loves life, but she's not a good being. She's the embodiment of chaos, a rung above König. She's as capable of good as she is of bad. I will say, she prefers to preserve life when possible. She likes life, she likes how chaotic it is. She wants to preserve our spontaneity.

She also is very careful about Summoner. She likes our chocolates, but she kinda knows that König and Summoner haven't actually started their relationship, contrary to what König thinks. However, she's certain that we will end up together, which is the main reason she doesn't snuff out our candle before it's been lit. Herald be damned, she doesn't care. If we hurt her baby boy she'll erase our bloodline from the entirety of existence. It's a damn good thing that Summoner eventually ends up with König!!!

[gigisdoll]

the ive pet story omfg i need more 🙏🙏

Cw: pet/owner dynamic, g!p, overstimming, breeding, somnophillia, brat taming, mean!yujin :((, dacryphillia [?]

Pairings: owner!ive x pet!fem reader

After they bought you, they were constantly using you, to the point you just didn't wear anything during your sleep knowing you were bound to have them ripped off of you at some point while you were in your slumber.. You wake up sore every morning and are sensitive to the touch, so sensitive that you were able to cum just from the slightest touch of a finger! If you knew how ruthless they were with your most vulnerable state... Especially Yujin, you always woke up with either her dick down your throat, or inside your hole making you whine from how much you came the night before.

Rei loves how clingy you are to her, well not clingy but how you love to sit on her lap, and she loves when you slightly grind on her.. Oops they've made you addicted to their cocks! Well not a problem one of them is always there! :)) but you're still so bratty! Always denying them entry inside of you! Look at how well they treat you.. Shouldn't you be more grateful?

"Hi baby... Oh poor Y/n... Well you shouldn't have been acting up at the mall... Then you wouldn't be stuck sucking on my cock in the bathroom, but I know it's gonna be okay... Just swallow everything.. " ᰔ Rei's so sweet to you, no matter how bratty you are, you're always gonna be her baby! Her punishments are never too harsh unlike Yujin's ^^

"Shouldn't have fucking swore at me huh? Do you regret it? Don't even dare apologize, use the mouth god gave you to good use and stop crying before I make you cry harder" Yujin hates brats, so stop acting like one! Maybe then your tears won't be mixing with her precum right now... I hope you swallow all of it Yujin hates when you're an ungrateful brat and don't accept everything she gives you...

"Y/n..oh poor baby... You better start sucking before everyone in this goddamn mall knows how much of a whore you truly are.. Is that what you want?... No? Then start making me feel good. " Wonyoung knew you would get down on your knees if it meant keeping your fragile ego less broken... But gosh did it turn her on when your teary eyes looked up at her while you licked and sucked her off, made her feel less bad about what she was doing </3

Liz can barely shove her dick anywhere except your mouth, it doesn't matter if you acted up, or you were on your best behavior she just needed to have your mouth wrapped around her cock almost every hour of the day. She came in your throat so many times your throat was almost shaped like her dick. And she loves that ♡

You're so accessible to them, no panties no nothing! You're always ready to take their cocks in and out :) they've trained you so well... So repaying them in the best way possible wasn't too hard... Though your cunt is still as tight it was the first day they bought you :3

A/n: hai nonnie hope you like it :3

[prettyboykatsuki]

fuck your inhibition. | k. bakugou

♢ tags ; very big age gaps (19 years), questionable ethics, ex deliquent / runaway reader (22), fighting / violence, brief mentions of living on the streets, retired pro-hero bakugou (41), emotionally charged sex, afab + masc!reader, top!reader, bottom bakugou, reader is really rough around the edges, backstory for reader, arguing, oral (both receiving),rimming (m!recieving), strap-ons (not a dom thing. no particular power dynamics), prone-bone, dirty talk, size difference (reader is smaller but no specifics), happy endings sort of.

no explicitly gendered terms for reader. usage of words like clit / cunt for readers body parts. reader is implied bisexual.

(also while this fic is certainly intended to be read as masc., it can just as easily be read as completely gn.)

♢ wc ; 10.2k (two days. this is so alarming)

♢ a/n ; happy birthday to my favorite guy. sorry in advance. this fic is so disgustingly self-indulgent. str8 self-inserty ngl. i simply dont want to look at it djskfgdf. this fic is pretty tame tho age gap aside. been a while since ive written for him. title is from "lemme know" by vince staples

♢ synopsis ; who knew that the boudoir pictures you've been getting off too your whole life would look so much better in person?

You’re not convinced there’s any way to get used to getting your lights knocked out. 

At this point, your fighting prowess is good enough that you can dodge swings from even heavy handed opponents. Just agile enough to bob and weave. Your reflexes are good too, from years of getting into with cops or otherwise. So getting absolutely dusted in a single, swift motion is not a frequent occurrence. 

That’s why you are sorely caught off guard when it happens to you in the back of an alleyway, tucked into a corner of Osaka—a long ways from home.

You were fucked from the minute you stepped foot off the train; you knew that instinctively. You haven’t been back in years and it’s not like you’re here for leisure. And sure, you took the job knowing there was some possibility you’d run into some old foes but shit. They couldn’t’ve waited till the week was over? 

3 days in and your life as a runaway comes back to bite you in the ass. Worse, they catch in front of the very storefront you were  working up the nerve to visit at the end of the week. If that old man catches you 1. making a ruckus in front of his cherished bakery and 2. fighting like those “worthless punks” that he openly detests, he’s definitely gonna be on your ass.

It’s amidst conflict, you decide to take the beating and wait it out. Hopefully, whatever higher power is looking over you will let you get out without busting your lip. 

But fuck, this last hit is leaving you worse for wear. You blink your eyes open and you’re still surrounded by him and his bunch of goons. What was this dudes name again…? Aka…Aka-something, you think. Without warning, you get another punch, a clean left-hook  - this time to your side. You cough at the sensation. 

Ah, life is so unfair to you. 

He grabs you by the front of your collar, dragging you upwards until you’re nose to nose. This fuckers breath is hot. Something warm slips down your nose, a rivulet of blood over your lips. You grunt. 

“I should’ve beat the shit out of you the first time.” 

You blink slowly as you regain your vision and sense. Despite many transgressions and altercations, your time in Osaka as a fugitive is notable. This bunch of fiends are a somewhat half-assed motorbike gang. It’s an old story. You stole and ruined  not one, not two, but four of their bikes total. In your defense you were a young kid scrounging for change - hotwiring and deconstructing for parts was always  pretty profitable. And stealing flashy bikes was a hell of a lot easier than scratching up your knees in the scrap yard. 

Ah, there was that other thing too. Why you’re pretty sure this guy has held such a grudge against you for god knows how long. Irritable with a bad sense of self-preservation, you give up on behaving well. 

“Yeah? No need to sulk now, right?” You grin, hands practically itching to throw him onto the ground. A familiar sense of adrenaline burns in your stomach. You should just hit him, but you don’t - instead opting to aim where you know it’s gonna piss him off most “How’s your little sister by the way?” 

Red flashes in his eyes, nose puffed like a bull. Despite your self-satisfaction, you close your eyes and pray to god he doesn’t actually kill you. There’s still some ass you have to tap before you die and it’d be a real shame to die only inches away. You cover your face when his fist winds up. Riling him up was probably a bad move.

Before you get your lights punched out forreal, an angel comes to rescue you. 

“Oi, you fuckin’ punks—go take this shit somewhere else or I’m gonna singe every last goddamn hair on your head.”

You smile, almost drunk on the adrenaline. An angel, indeed. A cursing, blonde, abrasive angel. 

“Oh, shit—we gotta get outta here. That dude Dynamight doesn’t fuck around”

Before you know it, said group of miscreants disperses like a swarm of flies. You find yourself stumbling back against a bunch of crates, back hitting them and sliding down, snagging in your work clothes. The leader says something about “not being finished with you yet,” but you don’t catch it with how your ears are ringing in your skull.

You rub your eyes and groan, seeing double. When you open them again, your favorite blonde old man is standing in front of you. Arms crossed over his chest, sporting that signature glare you’re so fond of. 

Your head is throbbing. Fuck it hurts. 

You only manage one sentence before promptly blacking out. 

“Did I die and go to heaven?”

— 

You wake up in a familiar bed. 

A bed you spent a lot of time resting in when you were out at on the streets here, something like four  years ago now. The memories of the time aren’t entirely pleasant - being a homeless runaway was pretty shit. But meeting your life long hero (and getting your rocks off in his bed) are quite fond regardless. You’re surrounded by nice, white linen sheets that you’re pretty sure cost more than you make in a month. He’s not really much of a flashy character despite his career, but he does have an eye for the finer things. 

You haven’t been back here in a while. Since moving to a different prefecture, you haven’t had any good reason to come see him. This week was a good excuse for just that. Didn’t exactly plan on it happening like this, but you can’t really win 'em all. You’d consider being back here a win on your part regardless. 

The fact that you’re here instead of molding in the pouring rain means that he dragged you up there by himself. A fact you try not to put too much stock into, because he’s still a pro even if he’s retired. What makes it hard not to feel giddy about it is the fact you’re all cleaned up. Bandaged wounds and all, he even took off your shoes. Jeez, he’s gonna kill you one of these days acting so cute. 

You turn to lay on your back, reaching your hand to the ceiling and making a fist. Your knuckles are still pretty bruised up but it’s clear he took some time to check over them. You drop your hand down, squeezing a fist over your chest and sighing. You roll over again. 

“Still giving me so many mixed signals.” You say, half in jest, trying not to be too affected by it “Ah, fuck, this is bad. Gonna end up doing something weird just like old times.” 

Before you commit another act of degeneracy in the bed of your long time crush and childhood hero, you sit up with your legs over the edge. He took your pants off too, a pair of boxers hung low on your hips. Your back is fucking killing you. 

You stand to your feet, scratching the back of your neck as you turn to examine yourself in the mirror. You pull your tank up over your side, a bruise the size of a melon developing on you. It goes from just under your chest all the way down to above your waist. You press your finger to it and wince at the sensation of pain, dull but throbbing so deep in your nerves you can’t help but feel it. 

You examine the rest of you, turning to either side. Work tomorrow is gonna fucking blow, but considering you don’t have any broken ribs - you think it’s not the worst it could be. No stitches either, so a win overall. If the rest of the week passed by silently that’d  be perfect. 

You look around the room for your things. They’re in a neat chair in the corner of the room.  Bakugou’s cat is over there too, asleep on your uniform. You can hear something faint from downstairs, the sound of a T.V. playing. You should drop down there since you’re awake  but you’re reluctant. You wonder if he’ll chase you out since you’re up. If he still has as much of a soft spot for you as he used to, it couldn’t hurt to test your luck. 

You open up the bedroom door and shut it quietly before padding down stairs. 

You end up finding him where you’d expect him.  He’s in the kitchen with an apron on, a fitted gray shirt with a piping bag in hand.

 He looks older every time you see him. His hair isn’t all gray yet but the platinum is starting to turn brilliant white. There’s lines in his face that weren’t always there, even with the scars and fine wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. He’s still as jacked as he used to be, but it’s softened up. Mostly it’s his personality, you find, to be mellow. Only someone with patience could take up such a tedious hobby after an entire life out in the field - killing baddies and chasing thugs and whatever other shit hero’s do. 

It’s kind of ridiculous that he’s piping delicate little designs onto some pastries, but unfortunately for you it only adds to his charm. You lean against the wall coming into the kitchen, in the frame. Half-dressed with your lips quirked up in a coy smile. 

“Whatcha makin’ old man?” 

“Don’t break my concentration you noisy brat,” He says straightforwardly “Sit down and shut up.” 

“So cranky,” You muse,  but ultimately comply, sitting at a chair on the kitchen island. Looks like he’s on his last round of whatever he’s making. 

You get by on staring at him. It’s pretty typical for you even now. Sitting here in front of him doesn’t feel as awkward as you expected, which is worth something. When he’s finally finished, he puts the piping bag on the counter and wipes his forehead with the back of his arm. 

“Permission to speak, sarge?” You ask, sarcastically. He frowns at you. 

“Not granted.” 

“Cold as ever huh,” You say, leaning your elbow on the counter - palm on your cheek “Thought distance was supposed to make the heart grow fonder?” 

“That only counts if there’s fondness in the first place.” He says with ease. This time you scoff at him, but he cuts you off before you get a chance to reply “You wake up with any pain?” 

“Worry about yourself, you old bastard,” You say impudently. You see the corners of his lips twitch as he stares at you “‘m fine. Got a nasty bruise on my side but my ribs aren’t broken. Work tomorrow is gonna suck.” 

“That why you’re back here?” 

“For about a week, yeah.” 

“Confidential?” 

You shake your head and lean back. 

“Nah. Bodyguarding some rich dude’s kid. Birthday tomorrow. Spent the first two days being a lousy maid but the pay is good so I can’t complain.” 

“Shit. The party is tomorrow? I have an order for tomorrow.” 

“Guess you’re not senile yet, old man.” 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou says, not bothering to hide to his expression “How old’s the kid?

“A little younger than me I’d guess. 19 or so.” 

“Isn’t this a good opportunity to get laid?” He suggests like he’s purposefully trying to irritate you. He already knows how you feel. Why he insists on pretending is beyond you but it never fucking fails to piss you off. 

You shoot him a glare. 

“Nevermind. You’re definitely senile. Might wanna try some puzzle games to keep your shit in tact before you start peeing in public and buying ten pairs of the same pants.” 

“You’re still just as mouthy as I remember.” 

“Learned from the best.” 

A comfortable silence settles as a weird feeling overtakes you. Fuck, you’re still pining your youth away after all this time. Maybe getting laid would fix some of your issues, but no one is gonna hold a candle to having the real thing. You rub your temple in preemptive apprehension. Bakugou starts working on cleaning up the kitchen, and you resign yourself to thinking about what you’re gonna do. 

It catches you off-guard when he talks to you first. 

“Earlier,” He says, opening up the fridge to rearrange it “Why weren’t you fighting back?” 

You don’t know whether you want to laugh or cry hearing him ask. You don’t feel like softening the blow with your usual shit, so you give it to him straight. 

“It doesn’t suit a tactical genius to play dumb, old man.” 

He stiffens, then sighs. 

“Still hung up on that, huh.” 

Oh now you’re gonna get pissed. 

“Don’t.” You warn, low and indifferent. He sighs, sliding a tray into the fridge and “Don’t piss me off, alright?” 

“Hey. You shitty punk. When are you gonna get it through your thick skull I’m doing this for your fucking sake? Stop—”

“Next time, just leave me in the rain.” You seethe, venom in your voice, making you numb and agitated. He stops, breath hitching “I don’t give a shit if you’re a retired  hero. I’m serious. Leave me out in the alley next time if you’re gonna pull the mentor act again..”

Man this sucks. 

Not like you were expecting some heart warming love story out of a guy like him but still. You didn’t think he wouldn’t budge at all. You can feel yourself getting angry just thinking about it. It might’ve been better not to come. Mentor or not, his whole dismissal never fails to annoy you to your core. You knew that before the week started he might be like this. Maybe if shit went your way - you could’ve had a regular reunion. But now, he just had to see you getting beat up on purpose and he just had to fucking ask about it. 

Seriously, where’s his decorum? Prick. 

“Kid.” 

“Don’t—I needa get outta here. I shouldn’tve—fuck, this blows.”

You stand to your feet before you have a chance to look back. You feel kind of pathetic running away again but it’s still the preferable option to having this fight a second time. It’s something you’re just too sensitive about to deal with head on. Getting rejected twice by the guy you’ve been in love with since you were nineteen is bound to fuck you up abs you don’t have it in you not to drink yourself into a fit. 

So you’re practically running up the stairs, but you can hear him calling behind you. You go into the bedroom to get your things and Bakugou follows you into it predictably, shutting the door.  You turn around to him, annoyed. 

“Get outta my way.” 

“No. Not while you’re all pissy. Gonna get yourself hit by a car.” 

“What’d I just say about cooling it with the mentor act, man?” 

“It’s not a fuckin’—it’s not an act.” He says, with a sigh that almost makes you feel bad, “I haven’t seen you in two years.” 

“Two years is nothing. Old age is making you soft,” You scoff, arms crossed over your chest “But I don’t need your sympathy. My feelings haven’t changed.” 

“Kid.” 

“I’m not a kid anymore, alright? Cleaned my act up, got a job and a license and a place. Haven’t slept in a cell in two years. Been off the streets that whole time just like you told me to do.  The least you could do is take me seriously.” 

“I didn’t want you to do that shit for me. I wanted you to do it for you.” 

“Too bad,” You reply back almost immediately, pinching the bridge of your nose “Save your lecture for the next injured bird you raise up and leave me out of it.” 

“I’m trying to put you on the right path, you ungrateful little jackass. Don’t act like—“

“Spare me the goddamn lecture.” 

There’s a quiet silence befalls the both of you. Shit is going nowhere fast and you both know it, Bakugou as much as you do. Memories of your last argument come back to you almost instantly. 

After you turned eighteen, you were run out of the orphanage you’d spent part of your adolescence at. It’s a pretty regular sob story and you’re quite the sad sap. A dead mom in Mustafu and an absent father. You had a strong quirk, and hell maybe if you grew up different - you could’ve been a hero. 

Shit didn’t  work out that way, so at 11 you were thrown to the wolves. It’s not a fun time to look back on and you figure there’s no use thinking about the past. You did whatever you had to to survive which mostly meant being in and out of orphanages and running away whenever the next worthless schmuck tried to take advantage of you. You always got away by the skin of your teeth, and made money doing whatever you could. If it put food on the table, you’d have probably done it at least once.

It’s something of a cliche, but Dynamight was your idol. You liked that he wasn’t like other heroes. He was crass and hardcore and liked to talk shit. He was cool. You spent a lot of time hanging around T.V. stores watching him through the glass, watching interviews on your first hand-me-down phone. Even though he didn’t really have the tragic backstory, you always thought he was courageous and honest. 

A celebrity crush and idol combined, you stole more of his pin-up magazines than you’re entirely comfortable with. A lot of them you still own, shoved into the back of your closet. 

Once you’d turned 18, your life of petty crime had brought you all the way down to Osaka. It was also the worst year of your life. Social agencies seem to get off on tossing kids into the streets as soon as they can and with a criminal record like yours, there wasn’t a whole lot you could do. 

You spent the first 6 months knee deep in all sorts of shit. That’s when you ran into that biker gang for the first time. You hung around bars and slept with strangers for a place to sleep. A lot of bad shit happened and it wasn’t getting any easier. 

It was a cold, rainy day when you met Dynamight for the first time. The worst day of your life, more accurately. You got mugged and lost your job all in the same few hours and you were pretty sure god himself was spitting at your face. 

But it wasn’t all bad. Cheesy as it sounds, meeting your hero was worth the trouble. 

He was different off camera. That was the first thing you thought when you talked to him. He had a softer way of speaking and he was weirdly perceptive. He didn’t talk much, either - at least not at first. You spent a lot of time in comfortable silence. The first time, you didn’t do much more than share a meal. He asked you about your life. He gave you money for a hotel too. The only thing you could think to do was ask when you could see him again. 

He was 36 at the time. Hadn’t retired yet, either. 

That was the beginning of your long relationship. To this day, you don’t know why he decided to involve himself with you. It’s a mystery you’ve yet to get answers for and maybe you never will. Sure he was a hero, but you’re sure he’s seen a lot worse. Why take pity on you in particular? Whenever you ask him about it, he usually just scoffs. Sometimes he’ll tell you that you reminded him of someone. Who that person could be is lost on you even now.

It was a gradual relationship. You were young and persistent, but he never turned you away either. Sure he’d been a good influence, but stopping a life of crime wasn’t easy. You got arrested for some months after meeting. Bakugou took you in when you were 19 and homeless - let you stay with him. He retired at 37, opening up a bakery in Osaka. The place you’re staying in now is just over it. The same one you spent two years of your life falling in love with the old bastard. 

It was hard not too. You’d admired him for a long time, and he managed to supercede your low expectations. It wasn’t the first time you fell in love but it was definitely the strongest sensation. You tried to ignore it for a while but that didn’t work out for shit either. 

You confessed to him on your 20th birthday. Made a whole big deal with flowers and candles and shit. And again - it’s not like you were expecting romance out of the motherfucker. A flat-out rejection would’ve sufficed. 

But…that wasn’t what you got either. 

The whole reason for your fight wasn’t just because he didn’t have feelings for you. He made it a whole big fucking deal trying to tell you about your feelings. That you needed to get your shit together and grow up and that it was a phase that you’d grow out of. That he “really cares about you, kid” and that he’s just trying to do what was right by you as an adult. 

(“You’ve got no idea what the fuck I’m like either. Been through some tough shit and you latched onto me, alright? So don’t go wastin’ your time.”) 

You don’t really give a fuck about how old he is or about his status. None of it matters to you in the slightest. What was pissing you off all that time was him not taking you seriously after everything you’d been through together. Trying to tell you would fucking grow out of it and that it was a waste. You got into an argument after that, and like you’ve been doing your whole life - you ran away. Back to Shizuoka where you started to get your life together. 

Hit the books and studied your ass off, graduating late from a night school and then picking up a vocational school to fall back on. Some old connections got you a job in security and you bounced from place to place in the meanwhile. You even got your license and bought a beat-up cruiser that you fix-up when you have the chance. 

You grew up so to speak. You came back here trying to prove that. Being dismissed so fucking quickly makes you feel rage beyond reason so you’re trying to step back. Seriously, two fucking years and nothing. Not even a pity “I’m proud of you.” 

“Just admit it,” You sneer, inching closer to him “It’s not about any of that shit, is it?”

He widens his eyes as you stalk towards him.

“The fuck are you—“

“Don’t play stupid. You feel guilty, right? Feel all wound up cause you know it’s not nothing. This isn’t nothing”

This time he goes silent. Fucking bullseye.

“You thought I forgot? How you kissed me all tipsy? Thought I didn’t notice you looking?”

Oh it feels good to let it all out. He shrinks, this time unable to say anything. You both know it’s true. 

“Look—“ He puts hands on your shoulders as you back him into the wall “You’re too fucking young for all this. And about me, you don’t know—”

You lean into him, face inches apart. You already know what he’s gonna tell you, almost word for word. Trying to maintain some innocence you hardly have anything left of. 

“You sure? I heard you through those walls plenty of times. You take dick like a champ.” 

“Shut the hell up. This is for your own good, we can’t do this.”

You can hardly believe he’s still being like this. 

“I used to know you were home. When I brought people over,” You whisper low against his skin. His eyes widen “You heard me too, I’m sure. So, be honest Mr. Dynamight, you think I can’t give you what you want or are you too afraid to find out?”

“You’re such a fucking punk.” He grits out. Still not denying your words. 

“That’s right,” You muse, words heated and heavy “I’m a worthless street punk trying to fuck the old man upstairs ‘cause I don’t know any better.” 

It’s not the first time you’ve kissed Bakugou in your life. The first time was when you came over to his place tipsy. In front of all the other pro-heros you had admired so much. It’s different this time. Not only are you both shockingly sober, there’s an aggression in it that wouldn’t be there before. No matter how begrudging he acts, he’s still kissing you back just as hard as you’d expect him too. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be, arms wrapped around your neck. Fuck he’s still so huge. How much does he work out to still be this jacked?

You can’t even imagine how that’s gonna look when you finally get to fuck him. Shit, just thinking about it sends electricity through your spine. You groan a little into his mouth, your hands tucked on his nape and tugging at the fine hairs. You push your incisors into his lower lip and tug, pulling away just slightly to intake how fucking flushed he is.

 He looks like a pornstar,

You pull away, hand cupping his jaw and forcing his mouth open. You’re gonna lose it if you stare too long. 

“You’re so fucking sexy.” 

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” He mumbles. You laugh lightly at him. 

“Your cocky attitude is pretty sexy too,” You hum, amused. You kiss him one more time, hands reaching for the thickest part of his waist. He’s built like a trunk, but his reactions are almost girlish. The contrast is making you twitch. 

“Can’t say the same for you.” He spits. Your grin splits your face as you pull away from him, teeth nipping at his jaw. You can feel the scruff of his skin, unshaved as you let your tongue travel over it. 

“Aw, what? You don’t think I’m sexy.” You nudge a knee between his legs feeling the half-hard outline of his cock. You shudder “You sure about that?” 

“What the hell are they feeding brats like you?” 

“Liquor and cigarettes.” 

“Since when do you smoke?” 

“Helps me relax after work,” You whisper against the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the lobe before “I get pretty stressed out. Sure you know something about that.” 

“Hngh, fuck. Fuck you.” 

“Do you even know how? Not like that thing gets much use, huh?” 

You reach down to cup his cock through his jeans, hard against the palm of your hand. He pushes his hips up slightly, sharpened glare. He pants. 

“You sound, shit, so fucking sure.” 

“I am sure. I’m looking to fuck you, not the other way around. Not sure how that’s gonna work since I don’t got my stuff on me.” 

You’re not sure what you’re expecting him to say. This whole thing is feeling like a fever dream you can’t wake up out of. Maybe he’ll give you a suggestion on what else to do.. But instead of that, a blush crawls onto his face. It leaves you floored. He looks away from you. 

“...Your shits still where you left it.” 

It takes you a second to register what he means. When you do, you can feel your brows hit your fucking hairline. There’s no way he’s saying what you think he is. 

“You’re shitting me.” 

“Shut the fuck up. I thought you’d come to pick it back up but you never did, and I went to go move it into some boxes. I didn’t have any reason to toss it.” 

A thought crosses into your mind. 

“Hey. Old man. Where is it?” 

He stares at you. You grasp onto him firmer, making him gasp. You can feel how heavy his cock is in your hands, rubbing it through the cloth of his sweats. You whisper harsh into his ears. 

“If I open your goddamn drawer right now, tell me, am I gonna find my old strap in it? Clean and getting use? You been fucking yourself with the thing I used to lay dick with?” 

When he doesn’t answer, pure glee ignites in you. He can’t answer, apparently. But his face is a harsh, permanent red now and his cock is painfully hard. You want to rail him into the fucking floor just for that. You wouldn’t make up some shit like that in your wildest dreams, so the fact that he’s not denying it makes your insides feel like they’re melting. You rub yourself against him, feeling how slick and hard your clit is just thinking about it. 

“Go lay down.” 

“Are you telling me what to do?” 

You grab his ass as hard as you can before landing a hit on it that makes him nearly topple over. Even though he’s bigger than you in more ways than one, he reacts like that. His anger only lasts so long before it morphs into want. 

“Of course I am. And you’re gonna listen.” 

“What makes you so sure about that, huh? You think you can satisfy me?” 

“You think you’re gonna intimidate me into backing down? After knowing you fuck your tight little ass to the thought of me? Fat chance.” 

“I didn’t say anything like that.” 

You laugh “You implied it. Now go lay down. Where’s your lube?” 

He frowns at you. 

“In the same drawer.” 

You give him a knowing grin to which he shoves your face away. Ultimately though he listens to you, lying and making himself comfortable in the sheet as you grab whatevers in his little sex drawer. He wasn’t kidding about the strap, the lube seated next to it. You grab both quickly and join him, hovering over him. 

You opt not to talk, slowing your pace to appreciate the view. You think he’s says something. Asks about what you’re doing and why - but you tune the words out as you run your hands over the curves of his body. He’s a wall of fucking muscle, his arms especially with a torso just tight enough for you to grab. The fabric of his shirt doesn’t leave much for imagination, but you’re still overwhelmed as you pull it up over his waist, his chest, his arms. The fabric comes loose and it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. You’ve got plenty of porn mags in your back pocket and even more boudoir shoots from him that you’ve stared at for hours. 

But seeing it in person is completely different. You can see the rise and fall of his chest - the raised skin of a scar and plenty of over scratches and wounds. Fuck, he is so sexy and you are so drunk on lust you almost feel sick. 

“Somethin’ catch your eye?” 

His voice draws you out of the trance you're in, a lazy smirk spread on his face. You laugh. 

“I get why you’re such a show-off,” This time you lean forward to kiss him - a hand wrapped around his throat, spare going to grab his chest. His tits are soft, they look like hard muscle and sinew but the fat is squished in your palms to perfectly for that“Fuck.” 

“You’re acting like a horny teenager.” He says flatly.  

“Been thinking about fucking you that long, so I guess so.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“Why’re you so shocked?” You make work kissing down his neck slowly, down his chest, one tweaking his nipple while your mouth makes work on the other one He swears above you, another wave of heat pulsing in your body “Don’t you hear shit like that all the time?” 

“Shit that feels—I didn’t think you were, hngh—serious.” 

“Obviously not. I still have all your slutty ass photos in my apartment somewhere.” 

He pants. Makes the prettiest fucking sounds for you as you grope and squeeze and touch his body. You bite, hard, into his tits leaving a red mark of teeth that makes him shudder. You need to do it all over again. 

“Haah, fuck. What the fuck?” 

“You’re way sexier in person if that’s worth anything,” You groan, a shudder passing through you “Like way sexier.” 

He looks like he wants to say something to you but the words die in his mouth. You laugh as you peer over him. His reactions are fucking adorable. Face is hot with a flush, watery eyes. Pretty. As much he’s rugged and strong and downright handsome, he is annoyingly fucking pretty. Having him underneath you is making all the power go to your head. Nothing feels more appealing to you right now than the idea of wrecking him completely. 

You kiss down his body until you’re at his waist, taking his pants off unceremoniously. You have half a mind to rip them but you’re sure they’re expensive. He lifts his legs for you anyways, leaving a tight pair of boxers that leave nothing for the imagination at all. 

“What the fuck,” You mumble, getting face to face with it. You pull the boxers off slowly, kissing his hip as you do. His cock pops out slowly as you pull it down. What an asshole. His dick is impossibly big too. A tuft of well trimmed blonde hairs sit neat at the base and the tip is a harsh red. There’s a little drop of pre-cum dribbling down the shaft that makes your brain feel fuzzy. It’s veiny too, tight balls sitting net at the base. 

Another shiver wracks through you, as you reach your hand out to touch it tentatively. He groans sharply. You stick your tongue out, licking up from base to tip. He tastes of salt and skin, but it isn’t bad. You let your tongue lick at the slit, elated looking at him squirm underneath you. 

“Nice dick.” You say back plainly. He snorts. 

“Fuck off.” 

‘’m serious,” You add, letting your eyes lid to look more serious “I don’t blow just anyone.” 

You open your mouth wide, pulling lips over teeth as you ease the tip slowly. It’s hot. Hard as steel and intrusive against your tongue, you can feel it throb. Pulsing relentlessly, you lower yourself onto it slowly - taking as much in as you can. It’s difficult and messy, tongue out to cover as much as you can. You suction your mouth slowly, hollowing your cheeks. There’s something that feels so good about having him in your mouth, something even better about watching the faces of pleasure he makes above you. 

You hum in appreciation and the vibrations prove to be too much as he nearly thrusts his dick into your throat. You brace yourself for it happening again - setting an even pace. He looks good like that, drowned in pleasure and unsure of what to do with himself. You wonder if it’s been a while since he’s acting so fucking cute about it. You assume as much. 

What he said before, you wonder if he was picturing it. If he felt guilty about it. The idea of him jerking off in shame over the thought of his dick in your mouth makes your spine tingle. You cup his balls in your hand, squeezing gently as you get into a steady rhythm. You feel him above you trying to hold it all in, the muscles in his abdomen tightening each time you manage to get down further. It’s hard to breathe, the back of your throat feels narrow. Your skin is on fire. 

“Fuck, fuck—where’d you learn how to—fuck!” 

You feel him getting ready to cum, so you pull off swiftly. A delicious, needy whine comes out of his throat that leaves you mesmerized. 

“What the hell?” He mumbles, heaving. You laugh. 

“Hey,” You hum, lifting his hips until you can see his hole - pink and twitching “Every had someone eat your ass?” 

“Are you offering?” 

“Yeah.” You say back, kissing the insides of his thighs, gripping the muscle “I wanna know if it feels good for you.” 

For whatever reason, this statement in particular makes his skin tinge pink. You hold back a laugh internally. 

“So fucking weird.” 

“Is that a no?” 

“Do whatever you want.” 

You chuckle at that. You sink your teeth into him again, this time working on the build up. His muscles give tension to your incessant biting, hard bone against muscle as you mark up his thick thighs. His ass is nice like you’d expect, tight and muscular. You work your way towards his hole slowly, thumb circling the tight ring of muscle first to gauge his reaction. He shudders, making you hold back a laugh.

“Kinda sensitive,” You say amused. You can feel him glaring without having to look “You can’t cum without it now, right?” 

You’re mostly saying it in jest but the prolonged silence leaves you at a loss for words. Your eyes snap up at him, watching him huff and puff in embarrassment. Heat rolls through your body. 

“It’s not like I fucking can’t ever, alright?” 

“You’re too cute for your own good.” 

“Don’t fucking call me cute you shitty little brat.” 

“But you’re acting kinda adorable, old man,” You say slyly. You stick your tongue out, licking a long stripe against him. He shakes “Blushing up a fucking storm. Been a while?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh, so it’s just ‘cause it’s me then?” 

He looks like a fucking cherry. You laugh. 

“To think you were so against it. How’d you hide your expressions that long? Did it help you to masturbate to the thought of me fucking you?” 

“Would you shut up?” 

“I don’t feel like it.” 

Before he can scold you any more, you let your tongue slip against the exposed rim. The reaction is tentative at first, slow licks trying to gauge if this is something he’s even into. You do it again and again, burying yourself deep. He makes a noise that you recognize to be a muffled moan. You groan in appreciation, repeating the action - letting yourself dip into the tightness of it. You can feel the muscles of his body go taut as you grip him - hands over the tops of his thighs. The action is more shameless the longer you let yourself indulge.

You’ll have to fuck him open anyways before you actually get on top. You think doing this much will make everything easier. Mostly you’re doing it because you like seeing him embarrassed. The gap in appearance vs expression never gets old. Seeing like this repeatedly proves to be novel and fuck knows if he’s gonna let you do it again any time soon. You’re more than determined to squeeze out every last ounce of his pride. 

You want to see everything. 

And frankly, pleasuring him like this is driving you all kinds of crazy. Not like you’ve ever been a selfish lover. Always aiming to please or whatever. But he’s got such a raw fucking sex appeal looking the way he does it’s making you drip. You’re pretty damn sure you’ve soaked through everything you have on and you’re not sure how much longer you’re gonna make it without touching yourself. 

It’s all material you’re committing to memory, either way. If anyone saw him like this, you’re pretty sure they’d fall head over heels just like you. It’s hard not to give him everything he’s ever wanted Not to want to fuck him within an inch of his life, just to see his big muscular frame curl in on itself. He’d look so good all messed up, all knotted with pleasure. 

You can feel it again this time, another wave of desire that makes his cock twitch. You wrap your finger around the shaft, holding it around his balls so he doesn’t cum without asking you. He lets out a noise of disapproval that you ignore, pulling your mouth away. Pre-cum dribbles out of tip. You use your finger to swipe it up and lick it. 

He looks scandalized. 

“Not bad. You eat clean huh.” 

“You’re going to kill me someday.” 

“You’re too young and too healthy to die.” 

He makes a face of disapproval at you. You toss him the lube before grabbing the strap. 

“Think you can work yourself open for me tough guy? Normally, I’d do it myself. Edge you out nice and slow, get you all soft. But I’m dying to fuck you already and I wanna make you cum on my cock.”

He looks at you exasperated. 

“Where’d you learn to talk like that?” 

“Casual sex and porn mags. You don’t like it?” 

“It makes you sound your age.” 

“Want me a little more suave? Tell you that I’m gonna make love to you?” 

He snorts. You take off your boxers and sit up on your knees as Bakugou opens the lube in his hands. You watch him idly, mostly focusing on wiggling yourself in the harness and making sure it’s comfortable enough to fuck in. 

He takes a deep breath, and you watch him reach between his legs. How it’s difficult since he’s so muscular. You almost want to help him, but instead you get between his legs again. Stood on your knees with a heavy bit of silicone weighing you down. You connect the tip to his, watching him push a finger in slowly. 

“Not if you say it like that.” 

“Having trouble there?” 

“You piece of shit.” 

“A worthless punk or something. C’mon, just say it. Ask me to finger your ass so I can fuck you. Or you want me to say something more delicate?” 

“Fuck, c’mon just, help me already.” 

“What’s the magic word?” 

“....Please, you worthless asshole.” 

You grin, grabbing the lube from the bed and squeezing it into your fingers. You laugh, leaning over him. 

“Got some manners left in you after everything, huh?”

You pull him down towards him by the waist, pulling his legs up. You kiss the inside of his knees, nudging his legs apart as you position your hands, warming the lube between your fingers. He’s surprised by your strength, but you don’t do anything but grin. 

“Keep your legs up for me, yeah?”

He scoffs but doesn’t go against your will. He looks good waiting for you like that, so you don’t take too much time trying to split him open. His hands are thicker than yours, so your first finger slides in like it’s nothing. He’s soft and hot on the inside, and the way he accommodates you lets you know this isn’t the first time he’s done this.

It doesn’t irritate you as much as you think it should. Maybe you’re a little screwed up to think it’s sexy but the idea of him getting fucked at any point is turn on. Once you’re down to the knuckle and you can pump in and out of him easily, you use a second finger to stretch him further. There’s more resistance so you slow, feeling up against his walls for the place you know it’ll feel good. 

You know you find it because his whole body tightens up in front of you. His eyes shoot open and he’s all breathy and fucked out. You relish in it. 

“Right there?” 

He must be feeling good with how little he’s combating you. 

“Y-yeah.” 

You lean forward to plant a kiss on him again but this time it’s tender. He must feel really good because he wraps his arms around your neck to keep you there. You moan in surprise and when you pull back he looks hazed out of his mind.

“Didn’t know you could make a face like that.” You say, amused. He frowns at you. 

“I’m not happy about it either.” 

A laugh falls out of you and you catch the faintest whisper of a smile on his lips that has you kissing the corners of his mouth. He catches himself before he leans into it too easily, but you notice before he can shy away. 

“Looks like I’m making your heart flutter. Forget the ethics for a little and let me.” 

“I should toss you out of a fucking window.” 

“You’re not gonna though.” 

This he doesn’t reply to. You slip a third finger while he’s distracted and he gasps. This time he’s almost stretched completely. You give him a minute to breathe, swallowing up the little sounds he makes with a hearty grin. It’s so fucking good just doing this. Incredible. Way better than you could’ve ever imagined. 

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you,” You say, bemused. He’s delirious enough to laugh. 

“The stamina of youths scares the hell outta me.” 

“I don’t wanna hear it from a retired pro.” 

This time he grins. You find yourself pleased with the development. 

He’s stretched now, and restless. You pull your hand away and rub the remaining slick onto the tip of your cock, giving him a look. 

“Do you know how you want me?” 

“It’s your fantasy fuck,” He says, semi-sarcastically “Do whatever you want.” 

You laugh, tapping his ass lightly. 

“Turn over and stick your ass up a little.” 

“Don’t wanna see my face?” 

“Wanna see how you swallow my cock up like it’s nothing, more like.” 

He curses under his breath. You feel accomplished. He turns over just like you’ve asked him too and fuck the sight of him is way too much. You can’t get over it. He’s big and strong and trembling with desire and it’s driving your sex-drive as high as it can possibly go. You move so your knees are on either side of his thighs. Leaning forward, you lick up from the small of his spine all the way up his shoulder, before sinking your teeth in the junction in between. 

He groans underneath you, and your hands make themself present around his hips. Most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The fucking arch and the scars and the ruggedness of all of it. 

“You’re damn gorgeous.” You say, with utter and sincere appreciation “It’s driving me fucking crazy.” 

“Save your smooth talk.” 

“I’m bein’ serious,” You say, pulling his ass apart with your palms “Like. Woah.” 

He snorts “Real poetic.” 

“I barely graduated school, asshat.” 

In the midst of your bantering, you let the tip of your cock slip into him slowly. It steals the words of reply out of his mouth in an instant. You can feel him melt underneath you. At the intrusion, at the feeling. At every single sensation. You feel the phantom of it in your spine. Like there’s fireworks in all your nerve-endings, just watching how his ass looks around it. Just the tip with no movement, no adjusting. 

He’s silent, shuddering - holding onto a pillow. A bead of sweat rolls down his spine. He has little dimples in his back. You groan. 

“Shit. Look at you.” 

The praise seems to make him keen. He’s always been one to like the attention. You roll your hips, fucking another inch into him agonizingly slow. He moans like he’s deflating, breathing ragged and voice raw. You rock back and forth until there’s no longer anything to resist, then push in and in and in. 

Once you bottom out with his ass against your pelvis and your hips on the back of his thighs, you lean forward and press your weight on top of him. You think he’s expecting something else, because he seems surprised. But you let yourself weigh upon him, then with a heavy grunt - cup his jaw and tilt his head to kiss him. 

“You like that?” 

“Shut up.” 

“C’mon. Be honest. You look like you like it. Ears turning so red.” 

He groans. 

“In your fucking dreams.” 

“Still not gonna budge huh?” You say. anchoring yourself at his sides with a deep sigh “So stubborn.” 

When you feel stable enough to move, you don’t hesitate to fuck him with all of the expertise you have. You give it to him in just the right way, measure up to where he needs you but don’t give in quite enough. It’s a strenuous affair but you keep it at. A steady pace that’s hard and deep but not good enough to make him cum. Something to leave him on the edge, you fuck him just like that. The sound of skin hitting skin and short, broken moans echo in the room. 

You focus on taking him like that, making sure each and every thrust is precise and calculated until he gets where you want him to be. You can practically feel when it’s starting to really get to him. When he can no longer hold himself up, so resigns to smushing his face against the pillow and going limp. You lean up, moving so you can pull his hips back with you - hovering off the bed on his knees instead of laying on his stomach. 

This time you reach deeper. His whining gets louder, more in tune with everything. You laugh as you reach around him, hands gripping at the base of his cock. It takes patience to unravel him like this, matching your hands to your movements until everything is in a slow, steady synchronization. Fast but not fast enough. Hard, but not hard enough. Close but not close enough. 

He lets out a heady groan that reverberates in his chest, opening his mouth finally. 

“C-c’mon. Just. C’mon.” 

“Aw what?” You say, rolling your hips up against him, where you know he wants you most “What is it, hm? Did you want something?” 

“Fuck. Just. Fuck me already.” 

“I am fucking you, though?” 

“You know what I mean!” 

“Oh, you want me to fuck you harder? Make you cum? I thought you didn’t like it.” 

He groans, dropping against the pillows again. 

“I didn’t say that. C’mon just. Please.” 

His voice is hoarse when he asks. You laugh against his shoulders, listening to his requests. Giving it to him how he needs it. Harder and a little deeper, you can feel it now. How you knock into the place inside him that leaves him trembling and shaking. You can read his cues now, when he starts getting close. But of course it’s not gonna be that easy. 

You keep the pace stand, putting your hand on the tip of his cock. You rub your thumb over the slit and hold it there. He sucks in a breath, whining a little. 

“Wanna cum so bad?” You offer, mouth twisted in a feral grin “Tell me you love me.” 

This knocks the wind out of him. 

“What?” 

“Say you love me with all your heart and I’ll let you cum.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.” 

You fuck into him hard right where he needs you. He moans. 

“Nah. My fantasy fuck, remember? Right now, we’re playing love birds.’ Like’ works too, I guess. If you’re too scared,” You half-way mock, starting a pace now that borders cruel “Now say it nice and sweet and I’ll let you cum.” 

“You’re such a—agh, fuck,” He shudders against the bedsheets, repeating himself as you pound him. It’s easy to piston your hips. He’s so sensitive to begin with that it doesn’t take much “You’re insane.” 

“C’mon, old man. Confess your feelings to me like we’re sweethearts.” 

“In your dr—oh, shit.” 

“What was’at? Did you wanna say something?” 

You can practically feel him turn it over in his head. You’re mostly doing it to mess with him. Punishment for all of his beating around the bush and bullshitting. Getting to fuck him has been more than enough. 

So you’re not expecting him to stop you. To turn over flat on his back and lay with his legs spread and wrap his arms around your waist and stare at you through hazy, flushed eyes. This time you’re really looking at him. At the lines on his face and the scruff and an expression torn with time and desire and lust. Your heart nearly falls out of your fucking ass when he wraps his arms around your neck, palming your nape and pushing your foreheads together. 

When you’re nose to nose, he looks very serious all of a sudden. You swallow something in your throat, unsure of what else to do. 

“Gonna say this one fucking time, only. So listen up cause I’m not gonna repeat myself.” 

He’s got to be fucking with you. 

“Love you..I love you or whatever.  But that doesn’t mean—” 

Before he can finish his sentence, you put your hands up under his knees and fuck him for all you’ve got. Half-way as revenge for the shitty confession and half-way because if you think too long about what he’s saying you’re pretty sure you’re going to collapse. 

He sounds good under you, as you fist his cock and laugh in absolute fucking delight. You stare at him hard. At his fucked out expression. You’re gonna cuss him out as soon as this shit is over, you swear. What an asshole. 

“O-oh, oh fuck, I’m gonna, g-gonna cum.” 

You goad him cause you aren’t sure what else you should do at this point. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock? Show it to me. Let me see what you look like.” 

The words are enough to push him over the edge. He gets unraveled right before your eyes, his whole body pulled like a bow before losing all the tension. You can feel his cock twitching hotly in your palms. Thick strings of white covering your fingers as you fuck him through it. He sounds so perfect like that, so fucking good for you. You can feel your whole body ready to give out just watching. 

When Bakugou finally finishes, he releases you from his grip. You pull out only seconds after, staring at his flushed state in wide-eyed disbelief. 

“Were you serious?” You ask, because it’s the only thing you can think to ask. He sighs, tired. 

“Yeah.” 

Where the hell is this dudes class? 

“Fuck.” 

He laughs, laid down before poking his head back up to stare at you. 

“You didn’t cum yet.” It’s more of a statement than a question. You shake your head. 

“Not yet. I can take care of it.” 

He clicks his teeth.

“No way. Come ‘ere.” 

You undo the harness of your strap before crawling over to where he’s laid. You end up standing on your knees. He props himself up on his elbows, and you look down at him absolutely mesmerized. He crinkles his nose at you. 

“That fucking lovesick look on your face is gross.” 

“Been like this for four years.” 

He flushes. 

You stand in front of him, bare on your knees. He reaches forward, brushing the hair over the hood of your clit gently.

“You’re so wet.” He murmurs. You laugh. 

“Yeah, no shit.” You say, too tired to do much arguing “Lemme borrow your mouth,” 

He snorts “Got it.” 

You fist your hands into his hair and tug, bringing his open mouth to your clit with a sigh. Your cunts sort from being pushed into and neglected. Even the barest brush of his mouth is making you shiver. Bakugou must know a little something about this, because he latches onto you without thinking twice. The sudden added pressure has heat building your stomach at the speed of light. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so on edge in such a short period of time. 

Plus looking down at him while you hump against his face is enthralling. 

“You’d make a cute little wife, old man,” You say thoughtfully, dull pleasure aching as you tuf his hair at the root “You can cook, clean, bake and you know how to use your mouth fucking perfectly.” 

He gives you a look of exasperation, but the warmth down his neck tells you he likes it. You laugh, throwing your head back. The visible sight of arousal flowing down his chin and making his face messy is making you more horny than you know what to do with. You don’t have the energy to cum more than once but you’re sure when you wake you you’re gonna be horny all over again. 

You try not to think too hard about it as you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter before unraveling all at once. Your insides are hotter than lava, the entire lower half convulsing as the strength in your thighs and legs gets lost gradually. Bakugou sucks until you’re nearly overstimulated, and you have to pull him away before it really gets to be too much for you. 

“You taste good.” He says thoughtfully. You laugh. 

“Got plenty more if you want it.” 

“We should clean up.” 

“You’re not kicking me out?” 

“I’m not a villain, damn it.” 

“You feel like one for that loser ass confession, but I’ll let it slide. I need a fucking nap though. Getting my ass kicked and having incredible sex in the same day is exhausting.” 

He laughs as you lay down besides him, sitting up. Even in your half exhausted state, you catch the feeling of his lips on your forehead. 

“Get some rest you brat.” 

__ 

You wake up in a familiar bed. 

If the sore feeling of laying pipe wasn’t in your hips, you’re pretty damn sure you just woke up out of a dream. What the fuck just happened to you? Your back and body is sore, but you’re clean like you’ve been wiped down. You’re stark naked though. 

The idea that he could give you a wipe but not dress you makes you laugh. When you sit up, all of your clothes are sitting still on a chair. There’s some new clothes on top of them though, his clothes. You stand to your feet, your back cracking as loud as possible as you examine the wounds. You have some hickies now (when the hell did he leave those) and when you turn there’s some scratches on your back. You feel self-satisfaction as you get dressed. You should hit the showers when you feel less lethargic. 

When you’ve reconciled with the fact you didn’t just conjure up what happened a few hours ago, you trek back into the living room. You find Bakugou where you expect him, bent over the stove making dinner. You lean on the frame of the door with a grin before walking over to him. 

You don’t hesitate in sliding your hands on his waist under his tank top. Better, he doesn’t react like you’ve shot him dead. A laugh blooms in your chest. 

“Morning grandpa.” 

“You fucking—if you don’t sit down.” 

You snort, but sit yourself down at the counter like you did a few hours ago. 

“Whatcha making for dinner.” 

“Grilled fish and rice. There’s sides.” 

“Sounds healthy.” 

His ears turn red. 

‘“You have work tomorrow but you need to recover.” 

You couldn’t smile more if you fucking tried. 

“We gonna talk about what just happened,” You ask, pouring yourself a glass of water as you sit down. You take a long sip “Or are you gonna pretend to keep washing rice?” 

He sighs, putting down the dry rice and the cup to measure. He almost looks furious, but he’s too cute for it to mean anything to you. You grin. 

“Hey. Fucking. Look. Alright. You’re way too fucking young. I’m old enough to be your father a-and you only just barely got your life together, so yes I told you whatever I told you. But no fucking funny business until you’re at least 25 and your brain is developed more than a peanut.” 

You nod.. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda a coward old man?” You say thoughtfully. He looks pissed again but it’s too funny for you to care “What’s funny business? Sex? Cause if it is, I’ve got bad news.” 

“We just. We have to be careful.” 

“So I can kiss, hug, fuck you in private but keep it outta the press?” 

He stares at you, scratching his neck. “Yeah. Basically.” 

You give him a thumbs up, grabbing a snack off the tray on his table. Chips, the fancy kind. They’re good. 

“Got it. Can I stay over? I don’t feel like driving down to my hotel this late.” 

“....You’re not pissed?” 

You laugh. 

“Are you kidding? I wasn’t mad the first time cause you rejected me, I was mad cause you were acting all fucking ethical and holier-than-thou. I figured it was gonna be something like that anyway. And I’m not much of a romantic, so dates and shit are whatever to me,” 

“Forreal?” 

“Yeah. Having sex and staying over to hang out for a while is cool. It was your fat head worrying about it, not mine. Did Mr. Deku managed to talk you out of your crisis while I was asleep?” 

He gives you a look. Bullseye again. 

“You two keep in touch?” 

“He’s a good dude and he buys me a meal when I’m short on change. Jealous?” 

He turns away from you before answering. His ears are burning. You feel your heart squeeze. 

What shit taste you’ve got being head over heels for this old bastard, you wonder. 

“Just shut up and eat your chips.” 

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say.”

[did-sm1-say-catfish]

S1 EP17 

this is my thoughts on danny phantom!! starting from "Maternal Instinct" or s1 ep17.

-----

he can actually dodge!! wow!!! maybe use those training course skills in battle, buddy. 

-----

oh my god why does my new halloween decoration thing look just like those ghost props. oh shit i have to turn that off. brb

-----

“nobody makes a meat puppet out of jack fenton!!!” …maybe the people who are into himbos?

-----

jack, looking at a ghost: “hey pal, you need some sun.”

the ghost was in fact, green. 

-----

TWO HEADED DANNY?? god knows the world simultaneously does and does NOT need more of him. 

CYCLOPS DANNY?? thats not enough danny!!!

-----

Maddie: we’re going to florida!!! isnt that fun???

danny, annoyed

me, who has visited florida numerous times: i feel ya, buddy. i feel ya. 

-----

bro just puts on a pouty face after having been parachuted into the middle of nowhere bc of a ghost plane. yeah, A POUT. 

-----

VLAD??? helloooo theree ;)

-----

“what a well planned coincidence…”

“erm- akshually!! thats an oxymoron ya dumbass.”

-----

WHAT???? ELECTRICITY? poor baby!! you need TLC (tender love and care) <3

-----

“this subdues your powers for the next three hours. until midnight! im telling you this because ive seen your grades and you are trash at math. really danny, go study you dumb fuck”

-----

SHE HAS A LIGHTSABER???? maddie you know onlythe bad guys have a doubnle ended one. but its not red sooo (i havent watched star wars in many years. I have also only watched a total of two films. i say two because i saw the entirety of one and half of two others. haha)

-----

AWWWSSDBJkhjjhbdjcnjbkshsjnk danny hugging his mom!! AWJEJDJNWWJBk. that was such a cute moment!! 

Maddie, after fighting off the ghosts attacking danny: “youre in big trouble, young man!!”

danny, hugging her: “you. are! awesome!!!”

maddie: everyone stay calm, my son is hugging me. 

-----

maddie: we should stay with vlad, ist too dangerous out here!

danny: Mooooommmmm hes my arch enemyyyy!!!

-----

“at midnight i get my powers back, at 12:01 the belt zaps me, and at 12:02 vlad tries to make out with my mom. those are gonna be the worst two minutes of my life”

-----

IS SHE ABOUT TO CHEAT?? ok thank god not.

-----

bro is fake condoning vlad being with his mom. god. i hate this. but seriously, i dont think that family is functional. 

-----

vlad is struggling to get the belt off but… danny didnt even lock it. he’s just that bad at high tech belts. HA

-----

maddie, coming into the room: Wheres vlad?

danny, nervously: he ran out for a bite 

yeah, to get a bite taken out of him

-----

“We’re not gonna mention any of this to your dad, right?”

guys i hate her. i hate her. why would she do this to danny. she almost cheats on his dad in front of him, with a man that is known to hate jack, and then she buys danny food and tries to get him to keep it a secret. she’s a terrible mom. i hate her. does she have any idea how hard that is for danny? theyre already a dysfunctional family, but then she goes and puts extra pressure on him? do you have any idea what that does to a kid. a kid with whacko parents and crazy ass powers and who gets bullied at school and ON TOP OF THAT!!! HE HAS TO DEAL WITH HIS MOM BEING UNFAITHFUL. i dont care that she never ACTUALLY cheated, im saying shes a fucking dick and i hate her. 

AND THEN DANNYS FEELS GUILTY FOR NOT LOVING HER ENOUGH. NEWS FLASH, YOURE NOT A GOOD MOM IF YOUR KIDS FEEL GUILTY AROUND YOU. 

and jack isnt a saint but at least he didnt put that FUCKING PRESSURE ON JAZZ. maddie you are a piece of shit i hate you. 

-----

OK!! end of the episode!! give me your suggestions for like, how i should format this or- yeah idk. im going to go start on the next episode!!! :D

edit: *ahem* i have since been informed that she was playing him... i will store half of this hatred in my back pocket for later. I'm watching you, wazowski Maddie....

[xiii-e]

for Xie i hop u have a good day

for Lio...

i read wut you said. im gald i dint make things worse. sometimes i do that by accident

i didnt know i could hate HA anymore than i already did. i know its how hard it is for a regular person to get through there stupid bullshit program first hand, so i can only imagine how hard it is when they bake that shit into ur jeans or whatever.

HA made me a monster. they trained me and they changed me 2 be 1. i talked about what an enkidu does to u last night on another post... they filled me up with so many stims i could barely think most of the time, and they yelled at me wen i did anything other than kill for them.

im still the monster they turned me into. my BATTLERAGE never left. when i go too long without TEARING shit apart with SLAG KITTY i start to lose it. the stinging in my head starts again and it gets itchy and angry in my head. i MAUL because i have to and its a part of waht i am.

but that isnt all i am anymore. since the fuckers left me 2 die better people helped me learn to be a person again. I hav friends now and i liek exploring places and i think grils r like really really really pretty... im a whole person and im not just the part me they made.

I think Xie will always be a medic. their instinct to help people and make them stop hurting is baked in. but ive seen other parts of them too and theyre parts i really like. i think those parts will grow. specially once you manage to get them out of ther. i know you already know this, but i think itll maybe help to know that some1 else knows it 2

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

◂▸ Hey Sally- Xie's doing better than they were, having some quiet time in their room. They had a rough dream over their nap, head's giving them trouble, but! They're doing better now. They say hi :]

◂▸ ... yeah, you're not wrong there kiddo. Programming and conditioning can fuck with anyones head, but part of why they do these high-control Projects with us flashclones in the first place is because it's just- easier. No outside experiences to influence your subject, no family or history just... whatever you designed, floating in a tube. It's more expensive to custom-build a soldier than to just use fascimiles or vulnerable citizenship, but the payoff is the control. 'Specially if you bake in some behavioural quirks that back up what you wanna do. A predisposition toward anxiety, for instance. Uncontrolled empathy. Aggression, in some of the earlier models.

◂▸ Remove the ability to play god and fuck with someones genes directly and- yeah, stims. That horror show the Enkidu puts you through. I'm sorry they did that to you kiddo, they had no fucking right to- you already know that too but, likewise. Someone else knows that too. I don't think you're a monster, I think you're dealing the best you can with a problem you never should have been forced to deal with. They made it so the only positive association you got for years, was with violence. Course that's gonna be near impossible to kick entirely.

◂▸ ... makes me real happy to hear you talk about the parts of yourself you found after you got out, kiddo. Sounds like you understand stuff better than a lot of folk out there, and that- that probably comes from experience. You happy out there? You mention people helped you learn to be a person, after HA abandoned you in the field, mention you have friends now. That's real good to hear about. People who get it make everything managable, I think. You're a good person to know, Sally- I'm real glad you and Xie got talking. I know they're happy bout it too.

◂▸ I- I really hope I can get them out of here, one day. That's the first challenge, isn't it? Hope I can be there to see who they find within themself, once the job isn't bleeding them dry. Hope you'll be there to see it too. They'll always be the kind of person to put their own needs last, always be succeptable to that guilt they've been wired with... but I think that'll be managable. Once they've got people who don't want to see them hurt. People who can actually do something about it.

◂▸ Thanks kiddo. Just let me know if you ever wanna talk, yeah? I've got some experience helping folk deal with the quirks conditioning can leave you with. You have anything along the lines of a chewtoy? Can help with minor aggression impulses sometimes, having something to tear at.

[ Helios-8 ]

//

[jesus-is-an-ally]

How do you get past feeling stupid when you believe in God? Like, how do you ignore the feeling that you should be an atheist and not believe in God and that all this is just, a fake made up religion meant to control people? And obviously when i say you i mean i. I want to believe but i feel so dumb for it. I know im a smart person but every time i get involved with christianity i feel like im taking to an imaginary friend because thats how everyone refers to it. I feel like im feeding into an industry that colonized people, when i dont even go to church.

And ive had experiences with God that feel so unlike any religious experience ive had, but my brain always forces me to logic it away. Like ill feel an immeasurable level of calm and happiness and then my brain will go 'those are just endorphins'. How do i get past that?

Long read ahead, but I encourage everyone to read it, because I did my best to answer this and I think there's some good stuff in here.

Hey anon. First I'd like to say that I am not professionally trained, I do not possess a biblical degree of any kind, nor am I a pastor or a priest or anyone like that. But I have been a Christian my entire life, so that should count for something, Lord willing.

I also want to say that I think this is a very good question and I thank you for asking it, as it gave me a chance to think deeply on my faith in order to put it into words.

I always find it really hard to explain faith. I struggle to explain to fellows Christians, to non-Christians, and especially to people who aren’t religious or spiritual in any way. This is probably because faith is very much not a thing of this world, so it is nit easily translatable. But I will try my best.

I too have dealt with doubts in my life. I have felt the need to logic it away. All Christians have one doubt or another, and if they say they haven't, they are lying or potentially believing in a watered down, more palatable version of Christianity.

Either way, let's face it, the world is designed by the devil to make you doubt. The good news is that there is no question or doubt or critique that is going to make God start shaking in Their boots, realizing They hadn't thought of that. They are omnipotent, and anything you are wondering can most likely be found in the Bible, if you know where and how to look.

There are many books that explain the logic of Christianity, such as “Person of Intrest” by J. Warner Wallace or “The Case for A Creator” by Lee Strobel, who has also written many other books similar to this. Fair warning, it’s been forever since I’ve looked into either of these books, so there’s a chance there’s questionable stuff in there that I don’t remember.

However, I do need to say that faith is very much NOT a logical thing. It’s a belief in something that you cannot see, touch, hear, or otherwise sense except with your soul. It's the trust that God is out there, even when you lack concrete evidence.

I believe a person cannot become a believer by force, whether their own or someone else's. You have to truly open up your heart and let the Holy Spirit in. You must confess with your mouth that you believe in the Son of God who died and rose again, that you are a sinner, and that you need forgiveness and guidance.

I'm not pulling this out of my ass, there are a bunch of verses on how faith is not based in the logic of this world. Here are a few.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;

‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭3‬:‭5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power.

‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭2‬:‭4‬-‭5‬ ‭NIV‬‬

For we live by faith, not by sight.

‭‭2 Corinthians‬ ‭5‬:‭7‬ ‭NIV‬‬

There's a story I heard when I was a kid about a pastor being asked if he can hear God speaking to him in his prayers, and the pastor responded "no, I can't hear Him, it's much clearer than that". Faith is something practically unexplainable in earthly concepts or words. But it is solid, even it doesn't feel like it.

Hebrews chapter 11 is all about faith and what people have done by it, and I encourage you to read it, but I'd like to specifically call attention to Hebrews 11:1, which says,

Faith shows the reality of what we hope for; it is the evidence of things we cannot see.

This is the verse often pointed to when people discuss the biblical definition of faith, and it's the best I can offer.

However, it sounds like science and reason is not the only thing you are struggling with. As for morality, how can we be Christians when Christianity was used to abuse, colonize, and murder innocent people all throughout history and even today?

I'm not going to use the bullshit excuse of "oh they just weren't real Christians" because that is unhelpful, defensive, and probably not even true. All Christians are sinners, and hatred, murder, and all of that other stuff are sins, so it is possible that many or all of those people were true believers.

The simple answer to this question is that sometimes you just have to accept that your people did bad things and swear do your best to stop it from happening again (without spending so much energy on it that you burn out). I have had a lot of practice at this since I'm also white.

In German elementary schools, when they teach the children about WW2, what they basically say is “hey, this is our history, you didn’t do it so you don’t have to feel guilt, but you do have a duty to never let it happen again”.

I think this sort of thinking should be taught to the descendants of all oppressive people. I will also add that we also need to check ourselves that no nasty thoughts have slipped their way in. Often, you can continue the hurt without realizing. But this doesn't mean that Christianity is secretly evil or that Christians are inherently going to abuse others or any of that.

At the end of the day, there's nothing I can truly say that will instantly make you believe.

Like I said, it's not something I can force nor is it something you can logic your way into. No amount of evidence, even if it's the most rock-solid thing in all of the universe, can make someone have faith.

I hope there is something in here that can help you in some way, anon, and I pray God blesses you and keeps you safe.

[bengiyo]

Get to Know Me Tag :)

I was tagged by @telomeke and shaded by @lurkingshan.

do you make your bed?

Not usually, but I don't have a partner right now. I find that I'm actually really good at cleanliness when I have people in my space regularly. I am better about taking care of things when I'm doing them for the ease of others.

what's your favourite number?

14, but I couldn't tell you why. I think it has something to do with a girl named Ciara who I sat behind in elementary school.

what is your job?

I fix things for a government agency.

if you could go back to school, would you?

Probably. I didn't really know what I wanted to do when I went to college, and was far too much a mess at the time to study what I really should have. If I could do it and maintain my expenses, I'd retrain for my preferred profession.

can you parallel park?

Yes. I am the gay who drives.

a job you had that would surprise people?

I was paid for over two years to be really good at D&D.

do you think aliens are real?

So... I gotta be honest... I hate this question. This feels as loaded as the "Do you believe in God?" question. We are not aware of the existence of life on other planets, let alone sentient life. There is nothing for me to believe in. Do I hope that there are other intelligent beings out there? Yes. I think it would be really cool to engage in communication with a species that also crawled their way out of the muck and made it to space. I think there's much we could learn from each other about life and the universe itself. But belief is such a loaded term for me as a lapsed Catholic. I do not believe in aliens, but I hope that we'll get to meet some in the future.

can you drive a manual car?

Nope! Never needed to learn.

what's your guilty pleasure?

Hmm... Nothing really anymore?

tattoos?

Nah, I've always worked in the public sector in a way that hasn't made it an advisable choice, and I've rarely cared enough about something to mark my body with it.

favorite color?

Purple most of the time, but my wardrobe would say I'm in my green era.

favorite type of music?

I'm a soft rock 90s kid who embraced a lot of 2000s and later alternative. I've been on a huge synthwave kick lately. However, because I grew up in the 90s and remember the era of radio, I have a deep affection for Soul and R&B, classic rock, and pop.

do you like puzzles?

Yes? But not in a way that makes me yearn for them.

any phobias?

Probably falling, but that seems like a normal one for survival purposes.

favorite childhood sport?

Baseball! I was a shortstop.

do you talk to yourself?

Not often. I don't actually have an internal monologue, so I don't need to talk to myself often to get through it.

what movies do you adore?

This is...so difficult. I'm just going to name a ton of films: Pooh's Grand Adventure: The Search for Christopher Robin, Pacific Rim, Ghost Dog, Master and Commander, The Man From Earth, The Sum of Us, Big Eden, Kill Bill 1 and 2, Knives Out, Muppet Treasure Island, Gattaca, C.R.A.Z.Y., Weekend, First Blood, Robocop, Starship Troopers, Drive My Car, Nine Days, Really Love, Set it Off, Make the Yuletide Gay, Shelter, Pig, Kiki's Delivery Service, The Digimon Movie, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, Star Wars IV and V, Isa Pa With Feelings, The Way He Looks... and probably many more.

coffee or tea?

Coffee. Tea does so little for me.

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

A train conductor or an astronaut! Trains are so cool, and space is the final frontier! We have to boldly go where no one has gone before!

I'll tag @shortpplfedup, @negrowhat, @chicademartinica, @so-much-yet-to-learn and @happypotato48

[kaeyapilled]

What are some fics that you think are must reads for kaeya fans?

TEEHEE okay i think i have rec'd most of these before when i was asked for fic recs some time ago but its ok. here are the most kaeya fics ever in my opinion !

clouds in a lake by VelleRue

“Pot of butter,” Kaeya mumbles beneath his breath, eyes roving over the words. Alone, the words wouldn’t be very special. The shapes and sounds don’t scare him as much anymore, not like they did when he was new and wore shoes with torn soles and only knew how to say, My father told me he was going to buy grape juice.

Together though, they sound like the orange-yellow light of the oil lamp flickering in the corner. They sound like sticky fingers and bread rolls. Like a dinner table of three.

Cake and a pot of butter.

this one is so bittersweet and melancholic and i love all the headcanons in it and the way it's written oughhh it's a great read!! short but really good

stubborn roots by alexithymias

Kaeya’s plan to end his life is interrupted when Rosaria asks him to take care of a plant for a few days.

this one is heavier so definitely pay attention to the tags but, oh my god. this rewired my brain SO violently. i adore the concept and the characterization is really on point. it is so painful in all the good ways i like stories to be painful. i really recommend it!!

I'm gonna miss your love when it's gone by imaginarypasta

A selection of scenes from Kaeya's childhood related to his relationships with his fathers, and all they have led him to be.

im pretty sure ive rec'd this before but this is like, one of my favorite portrayals of kaeya and his bio father ever. its just so good. so delightfully sad. a breath of fresh air from the common headcanon that his father was an evil asshole. the kaeya & crepus bits are also really good and i like the author's hcs about khaenri'ah/the abyss SO much

not bad for a walk on death's doorstep by b_attery

Fear is a knife’s edge. Fear is a killer. Fear is how you know you’re still alive. Kaeya Alberich, not yet Ragnvindr, knew how to fear before he knew how to talk. As the heir to the regency of a dead kingdom, a spy-in-training to be sent to the surface world, as the last hope of Khaenri’ah – there were many things to fear. And later, as the Cavalry Captain of Mondstadt and a traitor no matter what he chose, Kaeya Alberich ex-Ragnvindr knew that as long as he lived, he would be afraid.

i have definitely rec'd this one before. but i just really love it!!! my comment on the bookmark says "literally the best kaeya character study i have ever read" and yeah that still holds up. shaped a lot of my kaeya hcs. i love this author

Hundred-Watt Light by pepperjuice

The first time the thought occurs to Kaeya he is eleven years old. Well, that’s not exactly true. It had been twisting in the back of his head for a long time, already. Formless and unspoken, an ever-present awareness, a whisper. But the first time it rings in his head, put in words, bright and shiny and just behind his eyes—

He is eleven. *** A story about ten years of contingency plans and holding your own hand. (Because how else are you supposed to live with a weight too big to hold all alone?)

OH I MUST HAVE REC'D THIS LIKE THREE TIMES BUT THIS IS REALLY A MUST READ. first of all heed the tags because it touches quite heavy topics! but this entire concept is SO interesting to be explored in kaeya's character and this author does it SO well..... this is one of my favorite fics, like, ever, lmao. absolute kaeya must read To Me

Lamellae by scripturient

A slowish movement in a discordant key, wherein Kaeya has bitten off rather more than he can chew and needs significant help; meanwhile, malady exposes buried memory and dread. A limited plot from a limited point of view which dabbles in themes of pain, trust, angst, conflict, and betrayal. Not quite a character study.

the writing style in this one is SO cool, i love it! non-linear narratives are my thing, i never get tired of it. and the whump in this is so good.. i like whump fanfiction, lol. the combination of characters in this is really fun as well, though everything is told from kaeya's very disoriented point of view. anyway, amazing exploration of his character!! the next work in this series, The thaw that comes in springtime (plus the next next work!), is also really good and i loved it, particularly the ragbros bit lol. another must read!

undertow / oversight by MercuryPoisoning

In which Kaeya gets by with a little help from his friends.

another one i feel ive rec'd before, but i love it. really good characterization!! especially his relationship with diluc!!! really good read. i love this author's stuff a lot lol. (bonus by the same author, and another one i consider a must-read even though it's still in progress and also way heavier than most of the previous recs: sleeping marble lion! i really like the writing style and the concept!!! pay attention to the tags but trust me it's a delightfully gut wrenching one<3)

whew. i think i have a few more i could have added here. i just went through my bookmarks lol i have read a decent amount of kaeya fanfiction. hope these are to your liking!!! fic rec'ing is one of my favorite activities

[ruumirmir]

Employee of the Month

really, i dont think half of this should be taken seriously, HOWEVER:

I think loverboy's peakest babygirl moment in all of his career should be singlehandedly getting pantalone to invent the concept of "employee of the month" for the sole reason of having a workplace excuse to spoil and praise him without raising suspicion. 👀 Which I'll set in the timeline Before pantalone becomes the harbinger, and is just a fairly high ranking official at present.

(theres like a whole backstory ive cooked up that my moot is currently writing now so this entire post might make a lot more sense after my requested fic is out lmao)

like yeah,, pantalone eventually does come to realize and notice that Hmmm! This one man is a particularly diligent worker! His excellent workplace charm and wet puppy eyes have captivated me !

Perhaps a little shy to praise.

(lil bro is actively trying to avoid the spotlight in such a line of work)

Celestia knows how many hundreds of fatui are trained and raised in the soldiers way 🙄 With the Tsaritza's mercy the organization will rarely happen upon a handful of sparkly-eyed new recruits that can actually be COMPETENT with the brunt of the logistics, diplomacy and theoretical PAPERWORK that keeps the fatui running.

God knows that harbingers like Pantalone, Pulcinella, and occasionally Arlecchino NEED subordinates behind desks rather than on the field.

So the idea comes to pantalone on a fine sunny day with a stroke of genius !

because the work environment under each harbinger is so Different, you could categorize pantalone to (relatively) have the safest, and most boring work imaginable.

Definitely in which case, job motivation is very..... low. Well not anymore apparently,, in comes loverboy, newly enrolled in the fatui

with a personal vendetta against risking his precious life on the field, who damn well MAKES SURE his work merits and skills direct him towards a cushy job with good pay. and that eventually catches pantalone's attention, whos like

Wow! I wonder how i can get myself to play favorites in my department in broad daylight without it being suspicious... Hmmm...

And then on the first day of the upcoming month, out goes a notice to every subordinate, manager, accountant, secretary and etc etc, about a brand new system set in place! and would you look at that:

Loverboy nearly digs a hole and buries himself on the spot out of embarrassment when he sees a nice framed photo of him hung up at the Northland bank's noticeboard with nice bold letters saying

"Fatuus of the Month"

followed by a nice motivational speech by pantalone that goes a little too into loverboy's personal quirks rather than his excellent contributions to the bank.

Really, it might've only been a little over 1.5 years into his mandated fatui service, but he's already been sent off with a neat bonus.... a small material gift that pantalone bought him, and a strong surge of interest from his fellow colleagues/comrades.

So much for trying to avoid the spotlight :P

also pspsppspsps @eluxcastar would you like some loverboy thoughtposting

[peachy-cheeks]

We Still Have Time (week one)

week: arrival | two | three | four

word count: 1,785 words

characters: gojo satoru x afab reader; (minor: Miwa Kasumi; Nishimiya Momo)

warnings: nsfw! also a little angsty and contains spoilers from chapter 222

a/n: well... against my better judgement, i'm making this a six chapter series. i'll go slow since i do want to know where gege is taking this whole thing... its just been a really good writing week and ive been thinking about sleepy sex so! enjoy!

The first week of Satoru's return was a volley between enervation and relief. The dust around his release was gradually settling and the days steadily filled by establishing a rhythm of hypothesizing, strategizing, then training.

Week one of five. A collective, unspoken countdown was the tensed thread between the students, mentors, and the other sorcerers caught in the mix. The recognition of this D-Day prompted vigilance amongst the group and a want to be at their fittest, god forbid, if anything were to go awry.

Vigilance... this was a double-edged sword as you had incrementally lost more sleep as the days drew on.

A lot of your immediate, guttural fear in understanding the gravity of life now had dissipated, so you figured. But the unpredictable stretch of sleeplessness made you aware that fear, at least for you, had manifested as wakefulness.

Satoru, on the other hand, was wakeful out of making up for lost time. So much had happened in those three weeks of his absence. So much... due to his absence. He tasked himself with carefully vetting and reaffirming his alliances, even in the small group of allies present. It would take a while for him to lower any kind of guard... sadly, even with you.

His insomniac habits manifested in him sitting, standing, pacing... while yours were placing all of your might into keeping your eyes shut and, unsuccessfully, attempting to sleep. The common trait between you both being an overactive mind, continuing to hypothesize.... strategize... in preparation for another day of conditioning.

It had been six days since his return. Most of those nights had been spent like this... minds cloudy and unable to shut off for needed restoration.

Your first night next to each other was spent cradling the other, sharing the typical warmth that you both missed. Despite the clinical and unfamiliar environment of your emergency shelter, pure exhaustion and desperate clinging allowed you both to sleep tightly in each other's arms like swaddled babies.

Night two was also warm, but much less peaceful as you both fidgeted, switching positions seemingly every 20 minutes seeking deeper comfort. Energy and focus regained from the night before gave way to a mutual self awareness that the weeks apart allowed your bodies to become more accustomed to sleeping alone than not.

At one point your eyes finally felt as heavy as your spirit. The image of Satoru's tired face peering at you from under his own weighty lids and lashes lulled you closer to sleep. Only moments later, your eyes begrudgingly opened, subconscious sensing the slightest movement.

Your blurry vision could make out the image of Satoru's naked, broad and defined back facing you. So still... apart from paced breathing; slow enough to know that he wasn't in panic... but noticeable enough to make you wonder what was keeping him up. Unfortunately, you had several ideas.

"...you okay?"

He unexpectedly tensed, slipping out of his mental solitude. You could feel him thinking, really contemplating how to answer, which in many ways told you some of what you already knew.

"no... not really. more tired than anything."

An honest answer said with a faint smile. He looked a bit over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of your face which was paying him every last cent of exhausted attention you could.

"me too... "

Your voices matched in whispers as if to not wake yourselves up.

"'...kinda difficult being out... the dark feels different here..."

He was overstimulated. Likely had been since the moment he was freed.

"...'m gonna take a walk..."

You couldn't stop him. Maybe it'd help to let him run through the scenarios and varied endings of what was to come without feeling your presence there.

"okay."

"i'll be right back, promise."

"...it's okay... i know."

Night three took you both by surprise, after finally finding a way to stay more static in sleep. You two counted it as a win, only waking up briefly every other hour, eventually crashing into REM around 6am and, remarkably, sleeping until noon.

"They've been sleeping for a while... should someone-"

Momo intercepted Kasumi's understandable concern as they walked passed the room where you two rest.

"Don't bother... they both look like they haven't slept at all. It's really starting to show in their under-eyes..."

Nights four (better) and five (worse) resumed the disordered pattern with bursts of consciousness segmenting ounces of sleep. As one slept, the other watched.

Night six. It had nearly been a week, a torturous one, and the determination you both felt to catch up on your debt rivaled the overactivity of your anxieties.

Deciding on a new method, Satoru laid toward you in a fetal position; his face inches away from your exposed midriff. Exhales from his nose lightly tickled the shown skin, subtle evidence of his vitality comforting you but not enough to take your sleepy gaze off of the wall. Your palm rested on the crown of his head, fingers lightly playing in the snowy tousle of hair.

He forgot how much he loved this sensation.

With powerful arms wrapping around your waist, he closed the distance between your belly and his face. The pressure of his exhales warmed the surface of your stomach as other sections were blessed with delicate, apologetic kisses. Your fingers massaged the top of his head as his lips pressed further into your skin. His hands reached under your shirt to lightly stroke the expanse of your back and draw you in closer. His desire to suffocate in you halted only by the need to propose a question. Or rather, a solution.

"Can I have you?"

His words followed by another kiss caused a stir in your lower stomach and elicited a hitched gasp from your lips. The pent up rage, mourning, and raw, reactionary emotion had way-sided the common physical desires you had for each other. Desires that you two were unable to express and act on for weeks.

"Of course."

His tongue dragged across small areas leading to your hipbone, punctuated either by a kiss or playful bite. Your vocalizations motivated him through his sleep deprivation.

Pushing at your hip to lay you flatly against the futon and hiking your thighs up and apart, he continued to mouth at your pantyline and inner thigh. You felt drunk off of the lack of sleep and the soothing touch his soft lips provided. His wide hands gripped the back of your thighs, practically pinning them to the areas of the futon around your torso.

Sleepiness stole the memory of your panties slipping off of you. A louder moan fell out of you as his tongue reached the bare and wet folds of your core. While you lazily wondered how he had so seamlessly reached the most vulnerable and sensitive part of you, his tongue dragged deeper across your entrance. Two thick fingers followed, pushing slowly into you.

"...'his okay?"

His lips barely parted from your body, breaking to gauge where your stamina laid. The two digits, surrounded by the wet love that streamed out of you, curled upwards to press against your g-spot.

"fuck... yes... 'toru... yes..."

Your affirming voice and the squeeze of your walls around him intensified the rush of blood to his groin. His hips pushed into the surface below him for friction, moans traveling from his throat, to his mouth, and against your clit. He looked towards your face with deceivingly innocent eyes and when your head wasn't titled back in ecstasy you caught a glimpse that melted you onto him further.

Satoru's persistence despite the lack of rest inspired you to muster strength to reach into his hair again and offer the most provocative tug you could. Your nails sweetly scratched at his scalp before firmly tugging, pushing his lips closer to you. Precum dampened the font of his sweatpants and the pace of his fingers quickened, plunging deeper inside of you pushing you closer to the edge.

Pleasure and sleep pulled at your brains as you drew closer to a climax.

"wait... wait."

You felt Satoru's grasp on your thigh loosen and he immediately stopped, raising his eyes to yours. You pushed to drop your thighs and motioned for his lips to meet yours in a messy, languid kiss. The shift of his body pressed the dense muscle of his torso into yours. His painfully stiff and covered length rubbed against your soaked cunt and across your thigh as he slowly settled next to you.

Your hand idly reached beneath his waistband to cop a feel and slowly expose him. The wet tip met the air and your thumb pressed into the ooze before you stroked up and down. He held onto your face, hungrily kissing and mumbling into your cheek.

"mm... mmuh... fuck..."

He relinquished himself to the feeling of your palm and fingertips massaging the pink tip of his cock for an all too brief moment. Tearing away, he turned you to your side, spooning you, and snuck a hand between your legs to feel your wetness again. You felt his hardness as it poked at your buttocks before slipping between your inner thighs. Wet fingertips reached under your shirt to roughly knead at your breasts and lovingly pinch at both nubs.

The press of your ass against Satoru's lower stomach made him dizzy and he buried his face into the crook of your neck, entering you with a mutual desperation. Touches traveled across your lifted thigh, your breasts, throat, mouth, and hair. Slapped skin and heavy breathing created a lewd lullaby that further intoxicated you two. Tears welted up in your eyes as he fucked into you harder.

Repeated expletives and moans syncopated the sound of your bodies meeting. Your voice hit higher notes and your insides pulsated tighter against the pleasing friction. The closer you were, the foggier your consciousness was. Your climax gave way to a domino effect of Satoru giving his all then (abruptly, to you) pulling out to paint across your nether regions.

And then, silence. Slowing beats of your heart grounded Satoru.

“…Are you already asleep?”

“…mm..uhn…”

You hadn't quite made it down yet.

“Heh... gimme a second.”

With a pat on your rear, Satoru got up and searched for a towel. He returned to the beautiful image of you, blushed all over and unconscious.

“...What a dream.”

So few people were privileged enough to feel the careful touches that swiped your skin as he cleaned you. Even if for just that night, there was alleviation… some sort of pardon (or pity) for your souls. Satoru rested next to you, giving you a final watch before setting his eyes to the ceiling and drifting to wherever you were.

[idealspawn]

ive been away from tumblr for such a long time, afraid it would trigger me. ive been doing so well:) i moved to another city. back to where i lived for a year, a year prior to this one. i was able to join a programme that enables me to study in this university again for a year as like an exchange student(?)-ish thing. it feels amazing. ive reconnected with two(three-ish?) extremely dear people to me and ive found my love for knowledge again. my apartment is so nice too. i live near a train station but i can barely hear anything, and if i do, the sounds are actually comforting. i used to dislike trains, they made me anxious but starting this summer i grew to love them and now i regularly even prefer them. i live on the top floor so my ceiling and walls are slanted but it brings me such comfort, my room in my parents' house also has it like that. i have a second floor, well half of it. there is a built-in ladder staircase. it feels extremely comforting. ive had to fix, and still have to fix, many things here bc its a relatively cheap apartment but im fine with that. it actually makes me feel more at home when i can work on the apartment and make it my own. it feels more like home when everything isnt perfect either. the washing machine was disgustingly dirty and the air ventilation thing above the stove is also so fucking nasty but ill deal w it.. not my first time renting an apartment...... .. .. . the emotional aspects of this place are way more important. ive adopted plants too this time around. and a lot more intentionally, ive made in-depth sheets on how to properly care for them. i speak to them and kiss them every day. i know i will buy at leasr one more plant. so far i have an aloe vera plant, alocasia zebrina(MY DEAREST but also the most needy), a chinese money plant and an ivy. i want another ivy but a diff one. right now i have the one called wonder, it looks very friendly, very round. i didnt intend to get this one but they got my order wrong but i didnt have the heart to exchange it so i will just keep it and buy the other ivy as a friend to it. i am so fond of the one that has, i cant seem to find its proper name, but the one that has extremely slim and elongated and really sharp star-like leaves. i figured maybe the two contrasting ivy plants would even look better together than just one. so maybe the wrong order was a blessing in disguise. im using plants to learn unconditional love and acceptance because my family definitely didnt provide me with that skill.. :d.. did the same with my childhood cat, thats why she was so extremely dear to me. when noone else in my family loved me unconditionally, she did:). ive been really motivated to study and read a lot of my own extracurricular stuff too. ive gone to really interesting tours and public programmes about nature and culture and society. ive actually enjoyed being on my own and had the balls to show up to places alone, i used to never be able to do that. i always had to have someone with me but its really limiting as many people around me right now have colliding interests. im also so insanely proud of myself for speaking up in a seminar!!!!!! u have no idea. NO IDEA how hard that has been for me. to realize my insight has value and should take up time and space in a seminar. ive always come so close to speaking but then my heart has raced out of my chest and then the moment passed. but this time i actually spoke up, i took the initiative and i didnt only speak abt the strict topic that our seminar text provided for that time but i brought up my individual reading!! and a girl in the seminar told me i spoke well!!(i didnt, god i was so nervous i stumbled upon my words so much and avoided all eye contact) AND ALSO the professor leading the seminar told me my answer was good too :) im so happy. im growing so much.