#he will have to be more mature and responsible

[affableramen]

no nut november day 1. how to make them come for the really horny darlings who read my smol insignificant blog :)

crack, smut, established relationships mature themes, minors dni

Wriothesley:

he loves when you choke him really well. he goes crazy once your hands start squeezing his neck

grabbing or scratching his butt. Wriothesley loves when you touch his rounded ass, and if you do he will definitely lose it

Tartaglia:

when you moan loudly, tartaglia loses his mind. he loves when you vocalise your sensations and satisfaction

praising him. tartaglia is not very experienced in bed activities, so he’d be really grateful if you kept praising him while having sex cause it makes him feel encouraged to proceed.

Neuvillette:

being on your knees for him (he does not expect that from anyone because he is such a humble individual, and it turns him on almost instantly)

when you take charge and offer him to have sex by your initiative. do not get me wrong, neuvillette is anything but submissive man, however even he gets tired of being constantly the controlling one. he wants you to be bold and shameless too

Pantalone:

when you play with, pull or grip his hair, it makes pantalone go insane. he is very sensitive to your touch in general, and he especially loves it when you try to tease him by playing with his wavy locks. he will be turned on immensely

when you touch his nipples (his erogenous zone. rub them nice and well, he will cum hard, mumbling “have mercy on me” to you)

Ayato:

dirty talking to him (praising his cock mostly) he loves his sex a bit dirty and overstimulating

when you slightly dominate him. this man is fed and sick of people constantly servicing him and seeing his s/o showing responsibility and taking a bold action like riding him will make him nut wildly

Capitano:

squeezing him inside. his manhood is thick, and the tip is fat enough to make him feel things when you suddenly tense up. capitano will give in to his passion, you will hear loud impatient grunting escaping his mouth that you never knew you needed

when you call him by his real name. in most circumstances capitano hates it when someone mentions his true old name, but when you do it during intimate moments he simply goes nuts for you. the way his name falls from your lips when he thrusts into you fast and hard enough just gets him going

Alhaitham:

he adores when you scratch his back. you always fear hurting him, but alhaitham wears your marks proudly and insists on you to not hold your passion in. he needs more of those blooming red marks of lust on his body

when you assist his thrusts by forcing your hips closer to him. he enjoys when you participate in love making equally to him, and will definitely cum unexpectedly generously if you continue

Dottore:

when you play by his rules. dottore is a very old and assertive man who’s used to things happen his way. at first he will kindly ask you to follow his lead but later on he will be incredibly blunt and dominant with you

when you use his vibrator on himself. not to mention him liking impressing you with new toys, when you grab one and press it against his skin, he will squirt his release earlier and thicker than expected

Dainsleif:

when you moan or whisper sweet nothings into his ear. this makes him particularly horny, especially given how much your voice turns him on in a private setting

when you try to unnoticeably run your hands over his hips. there is something about your claws grazing over his strong legs that makes him go completely frenzied for you

Baizhu:

when you bite his ears and neck. baizhu has those very sensitive and he will come almost instantly if you tease the delicious earlobes and neck of his.

when you wear sexy outfits. he likes to take you when you’re wearing those naughty, revealing but incredibly gorgeous outfits. he practically loses control of his arousal and can come even prematurely simply because he is staring at your beautiful body

[seredelgi]

And what pet names do they use the most?/ JJK x fem!reader

Featuring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro, Yuuji Itadori, Kento Nanami, Ryoumen Sukuna

tw: 18+, mature content, smut, kissing, making out, sex, raw sex, groping, daddy kink, size kink, oral sex, fem! receiving, the slightest bit of choking, creampie, explicit language

Disclaimer: all featured characters are depicted as adults

Gojo’s mumbled it shamelessly on your glistening pussy the very first time he got down on you, and it’s been his personal favorite ever since. It was more like a prayer back then, honestly. He was so focused on lapping softly in between your slick folds, giving you that exquisite feather-light pressure that you like so much, the kind that just about has you squirming in anticipation. “ more, ‘toru, please” You already felt desperate for him. But he was starstruck, lost in your sweet essence and positively high on it. You dimly heard his chants of approval bleeding in your ears just seconds after you reached your peak, and in between soft laps of his on you, carefully aimed at gathering up all your juices as you rode out your release “ taste so fucking good, my perfect honey”

Geto knows how much you like that one. You’re not even sure why, really. Maybe it's something about the husky tone of his voice when the pet name leisurely rolls off his tongue. Or maybe it’s about the fact that he’s usually got his hands on you when he mumbles it in between delicate kisses trailing down your neck. Those damn hands you dote on. They travel from your hips to your breasts, grazing past your ribcage in the making, just as he softly presses against you from behind. Your head falls back to rest on his clavicle and rolls to the side to look for his neck just as his fingers deftly brush against your hardening nipples. And with that you just have to bite on your bottom lip and nuzzle against him to try and keep the noises from coming out of you. “ don’t be shy, sweetheart, go ahead and moan for me”

Toji loves to toss it around when you’re unable to retort anything back to him. He looks at you, lying panting and trembling beneath him as he pounds into you with all his remaining verve. And he’s so close too, so impossibly close that each and every spasm of your pussy around his girth threatens to be the last one. But there’s something about your post-orgasm face that just makes him want to taunt you only a little bit longer. Your jaw’s hanging, saliva is drooling down your chin as your eyes roll back in ecstasy. He wickedly grins as his hips smack back against your ass with each of your weak whimpers, as merciless as you know him so well to be. Your head bobs up and down, following the pace of his thrusts and he really can’t help himself, you’re too beautiful when you take him like this “ like daddy’s cock that much, huh, babygirl?”. You’re only able to feebly nod in response before reaching yet another peak, squeezing him so good that he can’t resist the temptation of emptying into you.

“ Fucking hell- please” Megumi quietly begs into the darkness of the room you’re soaking into. You’re atop him, straddling his lap as he lays comfortably on his bed. The slow, tantalizing rhythm you’ve got on is menacing to his already drunken senses, really. Your hips carefully roll into him as he bucks up for more friction, and you can see his teary eyes verging on the threshold of a sweet release, already. He’s sweaty and trembling, and you can’t help but chuckle at the sight. With that, however, his gloomy green gaze darkens and his expression suddenly turns treacherous. You yelp when he easily rolls you over, caging you beneath his weight on the soft mattress. “ ‘Gumi, wait-” you breathe as he takes both your wrists in one hand, effortlessly pinning them above you as he sinks deep into you with one sharp thrust of his hips against yours. His tongue glides over your pulse point in sweet, delicate laps before he drags out the words “ ‘think you can just play with me like that, love?”

It had started as a tease, really. Yuuji began saying it to get on your nerves because he knows how much you hate to be scared. You’re so jumpy, and it makes him all the more eager to prank you and startle you, jumping out of nowhere from around every corner of the house you’re almost regretting letting him into in the first place. But he’s so sweet when he comforts you right after, pulling you in his arms and carding his fingers in between the soft strands of your hair, your heart still beating fast and stunning from the previous rush of adrenaline. And maybe that’s why it sounds so fucking irresistible when he murmurs it against your ear then, “ sorry boo, you’re just so cute when you’re scared”. You wanna tell him to fuck off, but you feel warm all of a sudden, and it drives you to look for his lips as your temples still pulse from the fright. You unceremoniously smash your mouth on his and it’s like all your still heightened senses throb at the sheer sensation of your tongue rolling around his. He greedily hums, dipping his fingers into your sensitive flesh, finding it still deliciously coated with goosebumps. He’s definitely not gonna stop pranking you after this, tho.

You can’t resist Nanami’s gentle praises as he folds you beneath him. Your legs shake as he hooks them above his broad shoulders, your breaths faintly hitching in response. Your languid eyes look for his as he plunges into you deeper, his thick cock slowly piercing through you and angled just so that it can easily reach for your weakest spot, having you meekly gasping for air. You already feel impossibly full as he continues his descent, your walls clamping around him, but even as incredibly wet and turned on as you are, you realize you’re not nearly relaxed enough to be accessible to the size of him. “ ‘so fucking big, ‘nami, I can’t” you miserably whine, cheeks flushed and hair sticking on your sweaty temples. He kisses your forehead so tenderly that it’s impossible not to melt most of the tension you’d gained since he’d switched positions. “ sure you can, dear, you just gotta breathe for me, hm?”. And you do. Each deep breath has you slowly unwinding beneath him, accommodating your walls to the feeling of him inside of you as he splits you open.

Sukuna just loves to remind you of how much he likes you. He’s in love with you, sure, and he doesn’t shy away from telling you that, either. But he’s better at making you aware of how much he just relishes in the sight of you. He never wastes the occasion to shamelessly rake his lazy eyes all over your form whenever you greet him after a long day. Doesn’t matter how worn out and in need of a bath you feel, you’re always able to make him grin devilishly as soon as you pass the threshold. All it really takes is you sighing heavily and dropping your purse on the kitchen counter for him to feel the need to pull you in for a deep, swooning kiss. You’re already panting when he draws back from you, eyes half-lidded and glossy with arousal as he softly wraps a hand around your throat “ and how was your day, gorgeous?”

Do they get jealous?

So what about the way they kiss you?

What about AOT men?

[brotherwtf]

there’s a good chance you’ve written about this already (please drop a link if you have!!) but i can’t stop thinking about john calling gale pet names for the first time. “baby”, “honey”, “sweetheart”. john just starts using them so casually, like he’s always called gale these things, but it makes gale’s insides flip flop every time. he loves being john’s baby even if he can’t say it out loud. john pretends like he doesn’t notice that gale blushes and stutters and glitches every time he calls him something sweet but he definitely does and he loves it :)

I mean it's pretty par for the course for John to call Gale all of those pet names, I actually can't think of a single drabble where he DOESNT call Gale a pet name... that's just his baby he has to call it as he sees it

but their first time? oh my God Gale almost melts through the damn floor with how red he gets

like you said, it's very casual and natural when John starts using pet names "can you help me with this, baby?" "no problem, doll" "of course darling," and John doesn't bat an eye at it, just naturally slips out when he's comfortable but Gale literally stops in his tracks when John calls him that for the first time, short circuits and can't think of a response until John asks him again or gives him a look, and then Gale will just shake his head and smile, does whatever John needs him to do

Gale's never been called these things before, Gale's mother didn't really do pet names and his father DEFINITELY didn't, so his first encounter with someone who cares enough about him to call him such names being John made his head spin

he flushes almost every time John calls him something those first couple of months, would hide his face so John wouldn't see how embarrassed he gets, would hide his pleased smile when John calls him "baby" or "doll" or "beautiful" but John always catches onto it and pulls him in for a hug or a kiss, nuzzles his nose against Gale's red hot cheek and smiles so big and bright Gale can't help but follow suit

but it's so hot for someone like John, older, more mature, more capable, to call Gale his, to call him such sweet things, Gale knows John truly means it because he wouldn't be saying such things if he didn't mean it, and that makes Gale's knees buckle even more

of course it only gets better when John says them in that husky, fucked out voice, one that's almost obscured by a moan while he's kissing or fucking Gale, even then it's so damn hot that Gale keens high and bright in his throat, holds onto John like a damn lifeline "fuck baby," "God sweetheart, look at you" "yeah that's it, that's it doll" oh God I'm gonna be lightheaded

Gale is John's baby any day of the week you cannot tell me he's not

[passengerprincessblog]

“Breaking Point” ~ Pt. 3 Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Angst

Summary: As tensions rise between Y/N and Lewis, their unresolved conflicts spill into their separate lives. Y/N immerses herself in her new role in LA, while Lewis decides to fly to LA to surprise her and show his support for her career.

WC: 1,200

The shrill sound of my 5 a.m. alarm jolts me out of sleep, blaring through the quiet hotel room and shattering the brief peace I’d found wrapped up next to him. I fumble to turn it off, groaning as I shake off the last remnants of sleep. The room is still dim, only a hint of light peeking through the curtains, and I glance over to see Lewis still sleeping soundly, his chest rising and falling steadily, blissfully unaware of the rude awakening.

As quietly as I can, I slip out of bed and finish packing my bag. Every movement feels heavy, knowing that this is it—I’m leaving him again, back to LA, back to the whirlwind of work and responsibilities waiting for me. Last night, we’d found solace in each other, but it didn’t change anything. It was just a brief escape, and now, here I am, running out the door before sunrise.

My gaze drifts back to him, his face relaxed, his brow free from the tension that seemed to linger between us these days. I hesitate, biting my lip before walking over to his side of the bed. Gently, I reach out and brush a hand over his shoulder, softly calling his name. “Lewis… hey, I have to go.”

He stirs, blinking a few times before his eyes finally focus on me, and I watch as the sleepiness fades, replaced by something I can’t quite place. He sits up slightly, his expression neutral, and for a moment, I feel a pang of disappointment. I’d hoped for something more—a plea to stay, maybe even a look of understanding. But instead, he looks… indifferent.

“Right,” he murmurs, running a hand over his face. “Have a safe flight.”

I try not to let his tone affect me, but it does. I lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. His arms wrap around me instinctively, pulling me closer, and just as I’m about to pull away, his lips linger, soft and desperate, as if he’s silently begging me to stay. The intensity in his kiss catches me off guard, and I feel my heart tighten, a mix of guilt and frustration swirling within me.

But I can’t stay. I pull back, offering him a small smile. “I’ll call you when I land, okay?”

He just nods, his gaze following me as I pick up my bag and head for the door. As I step out, I can feel his eyes on me, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on my shoulders, leaving me with a gnawing ache that I know won’t go away anytime soon.

Back in LA, the bustling energy of the city greets me as I arrive at my manager Jude’s office, trying to shake off the early-morning flight fatigue. Jude looks up from his desk, his expression stern as always, and gestures for me to sit down. His demeanor has always been more fatherly than anything else, a grounding force in my otherwise chaotic career. But sometimes, his seriousness grates on me, especially when I feel like he’s trying to dictate my every move.

“Welcome back,” he says, his voice clipped. “Hope you’re ready to dive right into this project. We’ve got a packed schedule, and you’re expected on set every day.”

I nod, though there’s a part of me that’s hesitant, the thought of missing Lewis’s upcoming races still weighing on me. I take a deep breath, bracing myself. “Jude, is there… any way I could work my schedule around just one of the races? I could maybe fly out for a day or two?”

His brows knit together, and he looks at me as if I’ve just suggested the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “Y/N, this isn’t a hobby. This is your career. You need to be here, focused, without distractions. You can’t just fly off every time your boyfriend has a race.”

“I know,” I say, feeling a surge of frustration, my voice slipping into a whine. “But it’s important to him, and—”

“Enough,” he interrupts, his tone firm. “You need to be more mature about this. You’ve worked hard to get here, and now it’s time to prioritize. Do you want to be taken seriously in this industry, or do you want to be seen as someone who’s just along for the ride?”

His words sting, and I feel like a chastised teenager, but I bite back any retort, nodding quietly. He’s right, in a way, but the guilt lingers, a constant reminder of the sacrifice I’m making.

By Thursday, the tension between Lewis and me hasn’t improved. We’ve been texting back and forth, but every conversation seems to lead to an argument, leaving me drained and frustrated. He’s in Mexico now, gearing up for the next Grand Prix, while I’m stuck in LA, bouncing from one meeting to the next. His texts are short, clipped, and filled with veiled accusations about me not being there.

Lewis: “You could have rearranged things. You know how much this race means to me.”

Me: “Lewis, you act like it’s so easy. I’m not just sitting around, you know.”

Lewis: “It’s never easy with you, is it?”

I roll my eyes, feeling a surge of annoyance. Me: “Maybe if you weren’t so dramatic, we wouldn’t keep going in circles. I can’t drop everything for you.”

Lewis: “I just want you to show that you care.”

Me: “I do care! You’re the one making this a bigger deal than it is.”

The conversation ends with him leaving me on read, and I feel a mix of anger and sadness bubbling up. Nothing seems to be enough for him, no matter how hard I try.

POV Switch: Lewis

It’s Sunday, and the Mexico Grand Prix is about to start, but my mind keeps drifting back to Y/N, and the words we exchanged over text. I’m angry, frustrated, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being unreasonable. But damn it, it’s hard not to feel like she’s slipping away, especially when she seems so focused on everything but us.

During a break in the paddock, I run into Lando, who’s his usual, cheerful self, chatting with everyone he passes. Part of me wants to brush him off, but instead, I strike up a conversation, hoping to ease my mind… or maybe to confirm the suspicions that have been eating at me.

“So, Y/N not making it out here again?” Lando asks, looking over at me with a knowing grin.

I shrug, keeping my tone casual. “Yeah, she’s busy with this new project in LA. She’s pretty focused on it.”

“Oh, I know,” he says, nodding. “She told me she’s so excited for this role. You must be thrilled for her, right?”

I feel a pang of jealousy mixed with guilt as he says it, my jaw tightening. “Yeah… thrilled,” I murmur, trying to keep my tone light. “She, uh… talks to you about it?”

Lando nods, clearly oblivious to my discomfort. “Yeah, we chat here and there. She mentioned she’s hoping it’s her breakout role. I think she’s really got it in her. You must be proud.”

The weight of his words hits me harder than I expected. Here I am, stewing in jealousy, focused on how much her absence bothers me, while she’s out there doing everything she’s worked so hard for. I should be proud of her, thrilled for her. But instead, I’ve been selfish, putting my own needs above her dreams.

Lando gives me a friendly clap on the shoulder before heading off, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I take a deep breath, feeling a wave of guilt wash over me. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own feelings that I haven’t taken the time to actually support her, to let her know that I’m here for her, no matter what.

Without hesitation, I pull out my phone and send a quick message to my assistant.

Me: “Book me a flight to LA for Monday. I’m going to see Y/N.”

If I’m going to make this work, I need to show her that I care about her career as much as I care about my own.

POV Y/N

The first day of filming had gone perfectly. The nerves I felt in the morning had melted away as soon as I stepped in front of the camera, diving into the role I’d been preparing for over the past few weeks. By the time I’d wrapped up, I was buzzing with energy, flipping through the script in my trailer, trying to absorb the details for tomorrow.

I hadn’t thought about Lewis all day, not the arguments, the jealousy, or the fact that he was in a different country entirely, living his own life without me. And it was a relief—a reminder that I could be more than just “his girlfriend.” I was here, on set, doing what I loved, and for the first time in a while, it felt like it was enough.

A sudden knock at my trailer door pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look up, surprised. I’m not expecting anyone.

“Come in!” I call, glancing at the door as it swings open to reveal Lola, one of the sound managers I’d worked with before. Her blue hair, piercings, and tattoos make her stand out on any set, and her unapologetic opinions are part of why I love her so much. She’s a firecracker, always calling things as she sees them.

She gives me a wide-eyed look, an amused grin spreading across her face. “Dude, I think your boyfriend is here? That driver guy, right?”

I blink, thrown off guard. “Wait… what?”

“Yeah, he’s out there, looking all glamorous in some fancy designer outfit,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I think the whole crew is practically drooling over him. Even the director’s talking to him.”

I get up, peering out the small window of my trailer, and sure enough, there he is—Lewis Hamilton, surrounded by a crowd of intrigued crew members, the director himself leaning in to shake his hand, a look of admiration on his face. Everyone is utterly charmed, captivated by him, and I can practically feel my blood boiling.

Seriously? He just shows up here, at my set, and pulls all the attention toward himself? It’s my project, my moment, and here he is, stepping in unannounced, drawing everyone’s focus like he’s the main attraction. Does he have to make everything about him?

As I watch, he finally manages to extract himself from the crowd, striding toward my trailer with that confident, self-assured look he always has. He’s dressed head to toe in Dior, sunglasses on even though the sun is starting to set, and there’s a part of me that feels a stab of irritation. He didn’t just show up. He came here looking like this—like he’s ready to own the entire scene.

I school my expression, putting on a happy face, reminding myself to play along. After all, it’s not like I don’t want him to be here. But the audacity of him showing up out of nowhere without even a heads-up feels… intrusive. Like he’s stepping into my space and taking over.

He steps inside, flashing me that smile, and I force myself to smile back, pretending I’m thrilled he finally decided to show up for me for once.

“Surprise,” he says, his voice warm, like he’s expecting me to melt into his arms. He reaches out, hands settling on my waist, pulling me close.

I smile tightly, crossing my arms, refusing to give in so easily. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

He chuckles, running his hand up my arm, his touch gentle but insistent. “Wanted to surprise you. Thought you’d be happy to see me.”

I manage a small smile, swallowing the annoyance bubbling up inside me. “Oh, I’m thrilled,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light, though it’s laced with a hint of sarcasm. “And I’m sure the whole crew is too. They’ve all been fawning over you since you got here.”

He smirks, clearly not picking up on my irritation, as he leans in closer, his voice dropping. “Well, I’m only here for one person.” He tilts his head, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek, trailing his lips down to my jaw. “I missed you.”

I stiffen, resisting the urge to melt into him, but it’s getting harder with every touch, every soft kiss. He’s pulling out all the stops, the charm, the warmth, and it’s almost enough to make me forget how angry I was. Almost.

But then, the thought creeps back in. He didn’t come to celebrate my success, to support me in my project. No, he’s here because he’s jealous, because he wants to make sure I’m still wrapped around his finger, focused on him. He’s here for him, not for me.

He moves to kiss me, but I turn my head away, crossing my arms even tighter. “I’m not in the mood,” I say, my voice cool.

He pulls back, a look of confusion flickering across his face, quickly replaced by irritation. “What’s wrong?”

I shrug, feigning indifference. “Nothing’s wrong. I just… wasn���t expecting you to show up here like this. I thought you’d be in Mexico, celebrating with your team.”

He frowns, his jaw clenching slightly. “I wanted to see you. I thought you’d be happy I came all this way to surprise you.”

I feel a pang of guilt, but my frustration outweighs it. “Well, maybe I would be if it felt like you were here for the right reasons.”

His expression darkens, and he steps back slightly, crossing his own arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I sigh, biting back the urge to say something harsher. “It means that every time I have something important going on, it somehow becomes about you. You’re here on my set, charming everyone, pulling all the attention to yourself. Can’t I have just one thing that’s about me?”

The hurt flickers across his face, but he quickly masks it, his tone defensive. “I’m not trying to take anything from you, Y/N. I came because I wanted to support you.”

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “Support me? You’ve been fighting me about this role since I took it. You didn’t even want me to take it.”

“That’s not true,” he argues, his voice rising slightly. “I just wanted you to consider my feelings. It’s like you barely even thought about how this would affect us.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve thought about it,” I snap back, the frustration boiling over. “But it’s always about you, isn’t it? You want everything to be on your terms. You get to chase your dreams, but the moment I try to focus on mine, it’s a problem.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, his gaze dropping, and I can see a flicker of guilt in his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably, as if he’s realizing the truth in my words. But before he can respond, I feel a swell of something else—guilt, mixed with the nagging reminder of what Jude had said to me in that meeting.

I hear Jude’s voice in my head, his stern, almost fatherly tone telling me to focus, to stay on track, to avoid distractions. He’d warned me that this relationship would only hold me back, that I needed to be stronger, more mature, more independent.

But I love Lewis. No matter how much he frustrates me, no matter how selfish he can be, I still want him. I still want to forgive him, to wrap my arms around him and let everything else fall away. He’s here, standing right in front of me, trying, in his own flawed way, to show me he cares. And despite everything, I feel myself wanting to forgive him, to give in to the comfort of his embrace.

I look up at him, his face softening as he senses my hesitation, his hands reaching out, silently begging for me to let him in. My heart aches, torn between the voice of reason urging me to focus on myself and the overwhelming pull I feel toward him, the need to be close to him, to forget all the tension, if only for a moment.

But as I stand there, caught between my own wants and the reminder of everything I’ve worked for, I find myself frozen, unable to decide which path to take.

————————————————————

Thank you for reading!

Remember, liking and following let’s me know you want more writings! 💜

[stellar-solar-flare]

If I’m not too late… Bucky Barnes + vacation?

Sorry about the delay. It has been A Week (TM). This is part of Stella's Halloween Shenanigans, for which I'm no longer taking new prompts. Thank you everyone who sent a prompt, all requests will be fulfilled!

Reboot - Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

“Oh, what does the gossip magazine say?” Bucky said as he stalked closer and lifted his sunglasses, revealing his dark eyes.

Fluff, romance, established relationship, heavily implied sexual content. | Mature | CW: Maybe very very light dom/sub dynamics if you squint? | 500 words.

Reader is female, no description of appearance. She has a PhD from an unspecified area of study.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative (AI) continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption, with Steve as the Head Strategist and Tony as the Director. The Avengers are living together in the Tower - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

As soon as he stepped out onto the terrace where you lounged in a pool chair, Bucky’s eyes locked onto the StarkPad you held in your hands. The giant parasol offered just enough shade for you to comfortably read, as well as protecting you from the sun that poured from the sky. All around you, a beautiful Mediterranean landscape bathed in the light. The private villa that Tony had lent to you was close enough to the sea that you could only not see but hear it – and yet enjoy perfect privacy at your own pool.

“What are you reading, honey?” Bucky asked with a dangerously innocent voice.

Oh, shit.

“A gossip magazine,” you smiled.

“Oh, what does the gossip magazine say?” Bucky said as he stalked closer and lifted his sunglasses, revealing his dark eyes.

“Outrageous things,” you still tried as he stopped right next to you, and you took a moment to appreciate his form in khaki shorts and a loose white shirt that was partially opened. “You wouldn’t be interested.”

“I bet,” he said, and without further warning, he snatched the StarkPad from your hands.

“HEY,” you tried, grabbing for the device in vain as he scrutinized the contents of the screen. “Ever heard of privacy, jerk?”

Not dignifying your complaint with a response, he turned his gaze to you, raising his brow.

“It seems that the gossip rags have gotten quite a lot more highbrow lately, to contain scientific articles about quantum matter,” he said dryly before lowering the pad to your table. “I recall something about a mutually agreed ‘no work during the vacation’ policy, no, doll?”

You bit your lip; he obviously wasn’t truly mad at you, simply teasing, and you rolled your eyes in response.

“You were taking forever at the gym. I thought there was no harm done if I looked at a little something,” you grumbled. “But leave it to the man from the early 1900s to call out his fiancée for using her brain.”

He chuckled, but you didn’t miss the glow of pride on him as your new title had reminded him of the purpose of this vacation. He leaned over you, his hands coming to rest on both sides of you at the edges of the chair. His arms were effectively caging you in, and you swallowed as you saw the muscles grow taunt.

“Quite the contrary, doll,” he smiled. “I love your brain. Which is why I’m trying to get you to take a break every now and then.”

He leaned down, and you could feel the slightest hint of stubble on his jaw brushing against your cheek as he whispered directly into your ear.

“There is only one occasion when I want your brain empty, my love,” he rasped as his vibranium hand slid down your body, which was covered only by your bikini and a gauzy beach wrap. “And I do think that it’s high time we give that beautiful mind of yours a break.”

[greendest1ny]

here you go guys have a preview of the fic that's been taking all of my attention away from beautiful boy (darling boy)

tw: grief, injury description, smell of a corpse described... freshly revived garmadon himself should be a warning /hj

preview

Lloyd sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders as he sat on the stairs leading up to the temple, his dao sword perched beside him. The surrounding canal chilled the already freezing early January air, and the remaining dampness on Lloyd’s skin and hair didn’t help that, gooseflesh rising on his arms.

It was over. His father remained to enjoy his eternal rest in the Departed Realm, and the Sons of Garmadon were on their way to be interrogated and then locked away in Kryptarium Prison for the foreseeable future.

Then, why did he feel like it wasn't over? There were no more loose ends to tie up, and there was nothing left to account for except where they should hold the celebration party for their victory. It was finished, and onto the next villain, wasn't it? That’s how it had been for the past five years of Lloyd’s life.

Lloyd jolted upright as Kai gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder. His face flushed a light lavender as he stood up and turned to face his brother in all but blood.

“You coming with, buddy?” Kai asked, his lips upturned into a small, sympathetic smile as he gently squeezed Lloyd’s shoulder. “We're gonna go back to the bounty, get some food from Chen’s, freshen up, and hopefully sleep if the Sons of Garmadon decide to go peacefully.”

Lloyd opened his mouth to reply. It sounded like exactly what he needed; greasy food, his family, and his bed. There was nothing left for him here, these villains had been successfully thwarted just like the rest. But something still felt so indescribably wrong here. “I just... I need to make sure that he's definitely not here. I know we stopped the ritual and everything, but..” Lloyd paused, rolling his shoulders and making a vague gesture. “You know?”

Kai nodded. “Well, I’m not going to let you go alone.” The brunette told him, rising to his feet and already walking in the direction of the temple of resurrection. Lloyd could tell from Kai’s relaxed gait that he knew that Garmadon couldn't return. He was probably only doing it to soothe Lloyd’s worries like he had a thousand times before.

“Wait, Kai.” Lloyd blurted, walking to be beside Kai as the man stopped to listen, an eyebrow cocked. “This is..” Lloyd’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish’s as he searched for what to say. “This is something I think I need to do alone.” He finished, busing his hands by messing with the sleeves of his hoodie.

Kai scrunched his nose and pursed his lips. “Kid, what if there are any Sons left in there? I don’t want you to be ambushed. And I know what you’re like with your communicator.” Kai said, not unkindly.

It was true, out of all the ninja, Lloyd had broken and lost his communicator the most. Lloyd shifted his weight from foot to foot, fixing his gaze on the floor. He knew he was right, he just didn’t want to admit it. “I was irresponsible back then, Kai. I can take care of myself for the most part now.” Lloyd reminded him. Maturity and responsibility were important qualities in any ninja, but especially the green ninja. He couldn’t continue being chaperoned by his big brother his whole life.

Kai sighed, rubbing his temples. “That’s… True.” The fire elemental admitted, looking down at his little brother again. “But you promise your communicators working, and if anything goes south -- and I mean anything -- you’ll haul ass and get out and call me?”

Lloyd nodded dutifully, reaching a hand up to his ear and tapping the small communicating device that sat there. “You can hear me through this, right?” Lloyd tested, to which Kai nodded.

“Yeah, yeah.” Kai hummed, and then poked his brother in the chest “Just don't do anything stupid, okay? And be back before half-ten. This place is way too creepy.” Kai groaned, cringing at the temple looming before them

Lloyd couldn't help but chuckle, a small grin plastering his features. “Okay, Mom.” Lloyd rolled his eyes playfully, yelping a little and then relaxing as Kai pulled him into a bear hug, wrapping his arms around Kai’s torso in return.

Kai huffed humourfully, and then pulled away, ruffling Lloyd’s hair. “I’ll bring the bounty ‘round, just let me know when you’re coming up.” Kai said fondly, walking back to join the other ninja.

Kai was right about one thing, the temple of resurrection was pretty off-putting. Lloyd sighed, and he walked into the temple again. The strange, spinning floor mechanism had long since stopped, and the portal to the departed realm had shut before his father could pass through.

There was no reason to be here, not unless he wanted to wallow in his sorrow, which in all fairness, maybe he did. Once he reached a place secluded enough, where none of his fellow ninja could catch him, he let his emotions run wild for the first time since his father died. His hands balled up into fists, and a shuddering breath left his chapped lips as his face began to dampen with hot, salty tears.

First master, he missed his father. He missed his father so much. Some part of him had hoped that the Sons of Garmadon would have succeeded in bringing his father back, just so Lloyd could be with him again. Even if he truly was as evil as the Sons claimed he would be, Lloyd would've been able to bring him back to the light. He’d done it before, and he’d do it a hundred times over again if it meant he could have his father back.

He thought he was over it. Over the constant emptiness and rage and misery that consumed him whenever he thought about his father and the fate that had befallen him far too soon after Lloyd had gotten him back. Though, in all honesty, even if his father had to sacrifice himself after an eternity spent with Lloyd, it still would’ve been far too soon.

But Lloyd wasn't over it. He never really would be. The grief would never leave him. It had just become a part of him, like being a ninja had, like being a student at Darkley’s had.

It was a vicious cycle with seemingly no end in sight. He’d be fine, doing something mundane and insignificant, something totally and utterly unrelated to his father, and then he'd think of his dad, and he'd be crippled by grief.

It was hard to think of the good memories, not because there weren't many, but because every time Lloyd thought of his father he'd just drown in his sorrow, in his eternally persevering love that had nowhere to go.

Worst of all, some part of him, the childish, idiotic part of him, was angry. He was angry that his father wasn’t selfish enough to let another serpentine war play out, because Lloyd would’ve fought that war again and again and again if it meant that his father could be by his side. He was angry that his father was so willing to die, to leave him behind again, even if he was sacrificing himself for not only the world at large but his son. He was angry at Destiny for the shit hand it had dealt his family.

He was angry at Chen for instigating the first serpentine war, and the traumas it must’ve caused his father. Lloyd may have been a child at the time, but he knew that his father didn’t wake up screaming some nights because of any normal nightmares. He knew that normal nightmares didn’t leave you shaken for the next couple of days and unable to return to sleep until exhaustion caught up with you and forced you to. He knew that these traumas, Garmadon’s ineffable love for him, and his unending desire for redemption were what made his father so determined to stop another serpentine war from occurring.

But mainly, Lloyd was angry at himself. He’d said such horrible words to his father, just moments before his father condemned himself to the cursed realm. He’d wasted precious time reminiscing on the past when he should’ve been focused on the present. He was angry at himself for not finding another way to stop the rampaging anacondrai cultists.

Just that last gripe alone had left him with countless sleepless nights, thinking up a thousand alternative ways to defeat them. A reforged flute? A technique they still needed to learn? Setting the cultists against each other?

Some part of him also knew none of it would work. Destiny doesn’t compromise nor stop for anyone.

Lloyd didn't know how his uncle did it. He'd known Garmadon for his entire life, he’d grown up alongside him. But he supposed that living thousands of years made you rather experienced in grief, didn’t it? But still. No matter how many times he'd asked Wu how he was so okay, his only response was ‘It gets easier.’

Yet, it felt like it never would.

After a moment, Lloyd unclenched his fists and wiped his tears away, taking deep breaths in a useless attempt to soothe himself enough to focus again. He sniffled and stood up straight. Lloyd opened his eyes again and tried to ignore the searing misery.

The temple was far colder than the rest of the remains of the palace. It was freezing to the point that Lloyd could see his breath, and Lloyd was genuinely unsure if it was so cold because it was so close to water, or if it was because it was night, or even because of the dark magic that had been committed there. He continued to walk around the temple grounds, his eyes flitting around to search for anything that might just look like his father.

He still felt that hope. That incessant desire for his father's return. Lloyd knew there was no point in feeding into it, into the wishes of a selfish child who was not acting like the ninja master he was supposed to be. There was no point in being here.

His father was dead, and it was going to stay that way.

Lloyd turned to leave, but the sound of rocks falling caught his attention. He looked around before he spotted what had made the noise. The pedestal upon which Harumi had placed the necessary items for the ritual, had been cracked open, leaving it in two halves. Lloyd’s hand drifted to the hilt of his dao sword from where it hung from his hip, cautiously approaching the area.

The smell of rotting flesh swiftly assaulted Lloyd’s nose, and all he could do in response was rest his hands on his knees, hunch over and gag involuntarily. He didn’t know how he knew it was rotting flesh, but he supposed that was the sort of thing you knew as soon as you smelt it. Lloyd sucked in a few deep, shuddering breaths and swallowed back the spit that had accumulated in his mouth. He continued over to the stone table, his sneakers tapping quietly along the stone floor.

The teenager peered down at the broken pedestal, looking inside of it and placing a hand on one half of the stone to brace himself. The hollow base of the pedestal was stained with ash and pebbled with debris, but most concerningly, purple blood was splattered across the stone and left in a puddle within the rubble. An uneasy mix of hope and terror settled into Lloyd’s bones. Lloyd only knew of three people whose blood was indigo: himself, Master Wu, and his father.

It was then that the Lloyd smelt the wafting smoke, seemingly coming from every direction, as the canal’s air did little to negate it. It clouded his vision slightly, adding to the overwhelming sense of dread that pooled in Lloyd’s stomach. Any smoke from any fires that the Sons of Garmadon would’ve lit would not be this thick after so long.

Lloyd backed up, adrenaline rushing through his body as his hands began to tremble. He turned to run, only for him to run into a wall that seemingly hadn’t been there before.

It didn't feel like a wall. It felt like metal. Cold, hard metal. But metal didn't breathe, metal didn’t stink of the ozone-like stench that clung to one's skin after travelling between realms, and rotting flesh.

Lloyd took a step back, and then another, and he looked up from the stone floor.

Grassy green eyes were met by fiery red.

Garmadon was frozen where he stood, and Lloyd was in a similar position.

His father was wearing the garb of a samurai, locks of white hair peeking out from beneath the kabuto. His visage was almost identical to how he’d appeared while the Great Devourer’s venom was infecting him. He looked like an oni, the villains in old Ninjargon folktales. He had four arms again, along with those unnaturally long and curved canines that never left no matter what form his father took. His skin was stygian with ivory markings along it. Just from a guess, Garmadon was easily eight feet tall, as he looked like he’d tower over a fully grown Master Wu with ease. A tail with a large tuft of white hair on the tip whipped around behind him, and his legs and feet were more like that of a feline.

Most concerningly to Lloyd however, there was a gaping hole in his father's chest. It oozed violet blood and ran so deep into the oni’s chest that Lloyd could easily see the alabaster of his father’s ribcage, and the porous, mauveish-grey of Garmadon’s lungs, and how they shuddered, expanded, and then deflated cyclically with the effort of breathing.

Garmadon was dead silent, staring down at Lloyd as if he were nothing. Like he didn’t even know who the boy before him was.

Lloyd gazed up at his father, eyes wide and full of love, longing, and uncertainty. “Father?” Lloyd uttered quietly, almost reverently. This had to be some cruel, demented fever dream. He must’ve collapsed after the Sons of Garmadon were arrested, and this was some sort of delusion. This just.. couldn’t be real. Could it? His father was standing before him, alive and breathing. His father.

Garmadon seemingly snapped back to reality, his eyes narrowing as he pushed past Lloyd, nearly knocking the boy over. “She... Calls... Me...” He hissed out, his voice gravelly and low. It was devoid of any warmth or affection his father used to regard him with when he spoke, it sounded more like he was talking to one of his many incompetent lackeys from his time as a villain, or even to one of their enemies during his time as a ninja master.

Lloyd quickly recovered and his confusion only grew. “What do you-” Lloyd paused. Harumi. Harumi was calling him, wasn’t she? She just couldn't leave his family alone, could she? “Father, wait! Don't listen to her!”

Garmadon seemingly ignored him, continuing to walk in that stilted, off-kilter manner. Like the reanimated corpse he was. His movements were unnatural and stiff. He smelt almost like chlorine bleach and rotting, burning flesh.

“Just wait a minute! Let me talk to you!” Lloyd pleaded again, grabbing one of Garmadon’s lower arms. “Please, father!”

[paperstorm]

I have to laugh at Carlos goading Owen and Enzo. He's not nearly as responsible or mature as he’s sometimes painted as, and he sat through a boring dinner at Owen’s house when Robert visited so when he saw the opportunity to make this one more exciting he took it. His shit eating grin when TK glared at him was great as well. He's been quite serious this season so it's nice to see him having fun again.

That was my favorite part of the clip 😂😂 Carlos the sassy shit-stirrer. Give me more of this

[frau-wilhelm-klink]

Well, I finally got around to doing these! It's a little long – and some of my takes may be unpopular – but these are still my headcanons🤷🏻‍♀️ (Had to make a few minor edits to 'em now that I'm properly awake, though.) So without further ado, buckle up and take a peek under the cut!

The Germans

Schultz:

1) Is definitely not a Nazi! Cases can be made for him being both neutral and pro-Allied, but I like to think of him as neutral. He isn't a man who's into politics or anything like that, he just wants his toy factory back.

2) Low-key thinks of Hogan and his team as additional nephews, so does his best to be somewhat responsible while still being the fun uncle.

3) Has privately asked Hogan off screen to make sure he, his family and Klink aren't blamed and/or arrested for crimes they didn't commit after the war. Schultz doesn't think that would happen...but given everything that went down after World War I with the Treaty of Versailles, he isn't taking any chances.

______

Hochstetter:

1) Is a hardcore, unapologetic Nazi who hates the Geneva Convention's very existence. Only tolerates it because of Klink's insistence that his prisoners be treated humanely, and despite the disrespect he shows the kommandant, Hochstetter is aware he's outranked.

2) Has gotten to the point where he's obsessed about Hogan more than a teenager with a celebrity crush. Like, he's just a legitimate stalker at this point🤣 Hochstetter is determined to prove Hogan is Papa Bear at any cost, if for no other reason then so his superiors will stop assuming he's not mentally all the way there.

3) Is very good at his job, surprisingly enough! Hochstetter makes a damned fine detective when he's not dealing with anything involving - or potentially involving - Stalag 13. Fortunately for the boys, he tends to let his hatred and obsession with Hogan blind him to a lot of things, resulting in him dropping the ball on more than one occasion. (Most notably, the episode with Group Captain Roberts.) Of course, Hogan being able to play him like a fiddle doesn't help Hochstetter's case either.

______

Gertrude Linkmeyer:

1) Knows in her heart of hearts that her husband Otto is probably dead. As Burkhalter once told her, that's usually what 'missing in action' at the Russian Front means. But Gertrude won't ever admit that out loud because as long as she keeps denying it, she can hold on to the fragile hope that he might still be alive. Is still internally grieving for him nonetheless, though.

2) Contrary to popular belief, doesn't actually want a romantic relationship with Klink. She likes him and thinks he's cute, but she's mature enough to know you need more than that to be happy in a relationship. However, Gertrude is going along with her brother's attempts to force the pair into marriage for two reasons.

She can see Klink appears to be somewhat naïve in a few ways, and she wants to protect him from women who would use him...of which there have been a few. As stated above, Gertrude genuinely does like him as a person in his own right, so she figures a platonic marriage of convenience would be the best way to accomplish that goal. (He would also be much safer too - nobody in their right mind is gonna risk Burkhalter raining his wrath down on them because they messed with his sister's husband.) But Klink keep pushing her away because he doesn't realize what she's trying to do. It's very much a 'I'm trying to help you here, dummkopf!' kinda vibe.

Gertrude knows Burkhalter (supposedly) barely tolerates Klink, and it baffles her as to why he would constantly try to shove them together at all in that case. The tension alone would make the holidays a living hell. But she says nothing, choosing to obey his wishes like a dutiful sister should. Gertrude is smart enough to see the grave error in judgment Burkhalter's made for himself; she's just waiting for her brother to figure it out after it's too late so she can have the last laugh.

3) Actively 'wears Burkhalter's rank' (aka uses the 'My brother is a general' card) to get things done if she really wants to. Has also used her relationship with Burkhalter behind the scenes to keep him from sending Klink off to the Front on several occasions for the reasons listed above.

******

The POWs/Allies

Kinch:

1) Is the majority brain cell holder, and therefore the only one who has a hope in hell of stopping Hogan when he gets on a roll.

2) Is on a first-name basis with Hogan in private because the two of them are friends. Nevertheless, Kinch only uses that privilege when he really needs to get Hogan's attention...usually for something critical.

3) Is utterly fascinated by all types of communicative technology. Radios, telephones, TVs...you name it, Kinch is interested in learning more about how it works.

______

LeBeau:

1) Is a mother hen whenever anyone is sick - especially Newkirk and Hogan - because he knows they don't take proper care of themselves. Will deliberately wait until Newkirk is too sick to protest, then shove foods that are extra French down his throat as part of their friendly ongoing French-English rivalry.

2) Is perpetually miffed by Hogan's blatant refusal to let him and Newkirk go on Nazi-killing sprees. Legitimately wonders if Hogan has actually lost his mind on occasion as well.

3) Gets frustrated sometimes because he doesn't understand all the references (such as sayings, terms, etc) to American culture in the barracks. Relies heavily on Kinch (and to an extent, Hogan) to translate them for him.

______

Newkirk:

1) Hates any and all authority figures with a passion, due to having had all of them treat him like dirt because he's poor. Hogan is the one exception to that rule - Newkirk would do anything for his CO if asked. He appreciates how Hogan sees him as a person and values him for his skills, as opposed to his financial status.

2) Will never admit it out loud, but is a serious worrywart, especially when it comes to Carter or LeBeau.

3) Would rather die than ever admit he needs help. Newkirk was raised to believe every bit of help comes with a price, which is why he's extremely hesitant to ever ask for even the smallest thing.

______

Wilson:

1) Dearly wishes Hogan would give him some advance warning whenever the team goes out on missions so he can go to bed earlier. That would be much appreciated, considering he often gets dragged out of bed to patch up one or more of them at all hours of the night. It's one of the reasons he's a grumpy, salty medic. (The other part is because everyone always gives him lip and he's sick of it.) He's trying to help them stay healthy; the least they could do is be grateful!

2) Would absolutely sedate Newkirk and/or Hogan - and in his CO's case, has threatened to do so more than once - if need be. Literally keeps two small containers of makeshift anesthesia he had Carter whip up set aside with Hogan and Newkirk's names on it, just in case.

3) Has zero qualms about taking advantage of the fact that a medic's orders override anyone else's, including Hogan's. Every time the colonel gets sick, the two go through a similar song and dance.

Hogan insists he's "perfectly fine" (even if he sounds like death warmed over) and tries to leave to take care of his men.

Wilson tells him to stay put.

Hogan declines and says he's leaving.

Wilson tells him to stay put again, followed by threatening to have Schultz hold him down on the infirmary bed while he (Wilson) ties him to it.

Hogan indignantly squawks something to the effect of, "You wouldn't dare!"

Wilson - who has an evil little smile by this point - replies, "With all due respect, sir, try me. Either you can willingly stay put until I clear you to leave, or you'll be doing it involuntarily. Medic's orders. So, what's it gonna be, Colonel?"

Hogan reluctantly gives in.

Wilson chalks up another win, all while questioning his life choices and mentally bemoaning the fact he has the world's worst patient for a commanding officer.

______

Crittendon:

1) Isn't as stupid as he appears to be. Didn't buy his rank - that would imply he's not talented enough to earn it on his own, and he would see that as an insult. Even if he had, Crittendon would be hard-pressed to keep it if he was truly that big a screw up. Nepotism only gets you so far. Plays the fool on purpose so people will let their guard down around him, thereby enabling him to make multiple escape attempts. Unfortunately, he's pretty lousy at escapes, so he always gets recaptured.

2) Genuinely means well, but still manages to mess things up. Part of it is because he's too into his role of the idiot officer; the other part of it is being easily distracted. Has deliberately interfered with Hogan's plans more than once as well. Crittendon is a veteran of WWI, so he feels he's the only one of the POWs who knows how to fight a war properly. He sees it as his duty to educate them how things should be done.

3) Was still mentally stuck in WW1 the first time he was captured. At some point between his transfer out of Stalag 13 and his next appearance there, Crittendon realized the Nazis have no honor, and that the rules of WWI have all but been chucked out the window. This explains why he did a 180° shift in attitude regarding Hogan's operation. Went from a 'Oh dear, you poor, misguided Yank...you really have no clue how to fight a war properly, do you? Let me teach you how the game is played' vibe to a 'Right, Jerry may not have any honor now, but I still know better than you, old boy. More war experience and all that, wot wot?' one.

______

Marya:

1) Is, essentially, the female version of Hogan. She's just as smart as he is. But in a era where a woman's opinion holds less weight, she has to get creative with her scheming. Plus, Marya likes keeping Hogan on his toes. Not only does it ensure her wits stay sharp, it gives her great joy to frustrate him to no end solely for the entertainment value.

2) Also enjoys making over-complicated plans, same as Hogan does. Sure, she could level with him about what she wants to do from the start, but where's the fun in that?😂 She wouldn't tell him everything anyway; she's smart enough to know you should never put all your eggs in one basket. Marya is well aware Hogan is a great leader, but she also knows firsthand from life in the USSR that even the strongest leaders can fall, and she doesn't want to be caught in the backlash if that happens.

3) Is hardcore crushing on Hogan. (Can't blame her for that; he is very handsome.) Tries to let him know - and thereby enable him to make the first move - by flirting with him constantly. When that doesn't work, Marya begins doing the same thing with LeBeau, trying to make Hogan jealous enough to kiss her and mark her as his woman...which eventually works. Persistence for the win!

The rest of my headcanons about Schultz and Newkirk can be found on this document, along with my ones of Klink, Burkhalter, Hogan and Carter.

Also, if anyone is interested, I did write out Klink’s experiences in both wars. It's told via flashback, however, which is why it abruptly jumps from World War I to World War II.

What are your top 3 headcanons for Hogan's Heroes in general?

What are your top 3 headcanons for each character?

[humans-are-tasty]

[iridiss]

something something about autism masking and how it relates to Mystreet Garroth’s character development. something about how Mystreet Aphmau “Has Never Masked Her Chaotic Audhd Once In Her Life” McGee influences Garroth to crawl out of his posh boy shell and goof off and run wild

[welcometogrouchland]

I miss them so bad (Dick and Damian)

[dungbeatposse]

the amount of mental trauma boboiboy has is astounding.

kid has never catch a break since the day he got his power watch, especially with the weight of the whole galaxy on his shoulders, and the amount of times the descendants of the first elemental users have seen boboiboy as their ancestors AND retakka… yikes…

i’m glad he’s deciding to stay on earth for the time being, lord knows he needs it 😭😭😭

he has yet to get the all third stage elementals, and also i would like to see the origins of the others’ powers too. i think it’d be interesting to see where yaya’s, ying’s, gopal’s and fang’s powers came from.

so we’ll see how that pans out (hopefully my boy’s gonna go clock in with the tapops psychiatrist before he does any shenanigans)

can’t wait for boboiboy galaxy season 3~~

[nightfal1n]

Reno's ride-or-die policy toward Kafka is outstanding but there's something about Kafka letting the boy 14 years younger than him scolds, drop kicks, handchops etc. on him without getting angry even once. Even when Reno's "don't transform senpai" reached its stupidity peak during the raid on Tachikawa base you'd think Kafka will yell back at him at least once but instead, he just keep his reason in his mind and go ahead. Especially when compared side-by-side with how Iharu reacts to Reno being Reno most of the times.

The same goes to his attitude toward Kikoru when she's in need of help. He don't even smirk or telling her to act better around him. He just help her, encourage her, and telling her she shouldn't be too reckless. Yes he allow himself to goof around, stealthy transforming to get the car back up just to look cool. But when it's really matter, he'll stand to protect her and demand nothing.

It's easy to feel offended, to want to getting back at someone for talking down on you. But Kafka with his life experience understand very well that Reno (being a kid) is just worried, and Kikoru (also being a kid) just want some kind of approval. Kafka might not meet all categories of what social expect from a grown adult (not many does), sometimes he just flat out a manchild but he's definitely not a teenager in adult body by any means.

[goemon-fan]

"He should be at the-"

[cowboysmp3]

watching naruto at the ripe age of 21 is so unimaginably different for when i watched it when i was like 10. rn im so haunted by them being such kids like GOD THEYRE ONLY 12!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAOUGGHHH

[triangle-ears]

dashboard: the second fictional character on your pictures roll is your new roommate.

me: ah i'm not on my ffxiv blog but i-- wait.

there is no reason not to put g'raha tia on my catblog. actually i saved this screenshot because i wanted to say his teeth creep me out by being too human looking and too realistic to ignore... please i just wish seekers could have a little fang. as a treat. i know i know keepers have fangs but listen. keepers should have ENORMOUS fangs. nobody plays a cat person to have bland human teeth