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midnight-mourning · 2 days ago

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Love Bites

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 8💘💘

Okay okay okay, back on track now, please enjoy this little diaster i made based on @divinit3a's yeti boys, it was, quite fun >:3c

Prompt: umm letseee... valentines...Typically the Sun is not Out.... (for... Reasons... ahah.) but----loves to hunt, and hunt for the thrill/sport/game of it. And loves to eat & eat & would love a properly cooked meal. preference to high protein meals, very rich, very tasty, salty & fatty. so Im sure if u wanted to tackle him, in particular, could have fun with that..... (Slaps a giant fish on the table. Token of affection. Totally Wont Eat You ) The Moon.......... is a lot quieter and subdued, but actually a far better caretaker. takes care of hurt animals; would probably take care of a hurt human, too. mmm hot cocoa. much pickier eater, he doesnt like much, and he doesnt like to eat meat.... I think overall, a 'meal together' would be the best valentines fhgjsdfghjsdf WITH THESE FREAKS IN PARTICULAR...

Word Count: 2907

Read here if you prefer ao3!

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The hall is quiet as you step out from your room. You strain to listen for any sign of life, nothing. Must be out. Good. That gives you more time.

Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the shadowed hallway, not nearly as bright as your windowed room. Though, you weren't opposed to keeping the lights off. It saved energy for one—which meant warm floor beneath your feet as you pad through the facility—and two, it kept the not as friendly yeti from making an appearance. Which, yourself and Moon were both in agreement about at least.

When you'd first gotten here, so many months ago now, your first encounter with the yeti, robot, thing—you still haven't quite figured that one out—was less than, pleasant. Though, that may very well have been due to the state he first saw you in. Which was bloodied, bruised, and vulnerable. And as Moon would later explain it to you, that had triggered something in counterpart. Something more instinct than logical.

Luckily for you, a ragged chase into a darkened cavern had saved you from suffering any further injury, or worse.

Instead, you got Moon, and he was thankfully much calmer than the other bot. He also wasn't trying to kill you, so you took what you could get. He patched you up, gave you a place to stay, a nice warm bed out of the cold, and plenty of things to do while you recovered.

When you'd first ventured out into the snow, having heard the rumors of the 'ice devil' you'd be facing, this hadn't been what you'd expected.

Delivish upon first glance, sure. Those tusks didn't help anything, that's for certain. Not to mention Sun as a whole, the manic energy he radiated, the wild look in his eyes, the raw strength as he'd pinned you down to "Try a bite"—

But still, with Moon at the very least, the rumors didn't match up.

He was quiet, even a bit stern in certain cases, but polite. He took his directives very seriously, but beyond that, he held a compassion you wouldn't ever have expected of a machine. Though, maybe it was because he was a bit more than that, they both were.

Regardless, you owed him for not abandoning you out there in the frozen tundra to die. Much less putting in the effort he had to care for you.

As you traverse the hall now, there's only the slightest pain still left in your ankle as you shuffle. You'd left the crutches behind today, as you had been the past several mornings, despite the lunar-themed yeti's insistence for otherwise.

That was another thing, the care. For a so-called devil, he had the attitude of a saint. Or well, you didn't know any saints, so a good friend then. A very good friend, at that.

You found yourself in long conversations that would last hours, either listening to that quiet tone regale you with stories of all his travels, or sharing some of your own experiences prior to meeting them. You enjoyed the walks you'd take together through the caverns, or going with him out into the arctic—on the rare trips he would allow you with your injury—to scout for poachers and the likes.

And those rare moments you could get him to laugh at one of your jokes, it lit something inside you that you couldn't describe. Something that albeit would be a bit more frightening than it already was if not for your situation.

You think the combination of getting your foot caught in a bear trap, freed and then chased by a rabid yeti-bot, and then saved by the other side of that same yeti-bot, allowed you some freedom when it came to your feelings.

But that wasn't the point to what you were doing. Rather, you wanted to show your appreciation for Moon, not your feelings. Nevermind the fact that today did just so happen to be Valentine's, having found out by checking the date on your half-dead phone.

Besides, You didn't even know if it was even possible for him to return such affections. Truthfully, you preferred not knowing if it meant you could keep this peace you've had for so long now. You were almost afraid for when you fully healed.

Afraid that the moment you could leave, you'd be kicked out, back into the cold to survive to find your own way back to society. That the past few months were nothing but a ruse, set up by Moon and in fact once you were at a good range, your back turned and unaware, Sun would bear down on you and—

You shake your head, no. Despite your initial encounter, Sun had been fine. He wasn't allowed out much, so you didn't speak much, though you also think he would prefer not to. It didn't necessarily have to do with you in particular, you don't think.

Whereas Moon was more oriented to stay on task, Sun had his own personal drive to fulfill. You'd yet to figure out exactly what that was yet, however. Besides the desire to hunt and kill just for the thrill of it. Whatever it was, with your injury, you simply didn't fit into it. You had no use—for now—so he left you to your own devices.

For now.

You flip on the light to the kitchen area as you enter, dimmed lighting now illuminating the space.

You'd been surprised to find there was indeed working cooking equipment in the research station. Not originally all in the same space, but with a bit of help, you'd dragged everything functional into one space.

When it came to ingredients, you didn't have much to work with besides what either yeti brought to you. There was some very old canned food you'd found, and several containers of unopened spices, but beyond that it was slim pickings. The crate of hot coco you'd found had been a godsend. Considering the situation though, you weren't going to complain.

The idea of making a meal had come from the simple fact of the matter that beyond hunting and protecting, Moon nor Sun did much else. So, providing nourishment would have to be your way to pay back their hospitality. Or at least, Moon's hospitality. If Sun enjoyed something you made, you'd consider that in and of itself a victory.

So, you set to work immediately. Opening the fridge, you pulled out one of the the few items in there, a massive bluefin tuna, which took up the majority of the space. You struggle to take it out, much less carry it with wobbling limbs over to the island. When you put it on the counter, you almost swear you hear it creak under the weight.

You step back and let out a breath, admiring the giant fish for a moment. While the two really only ate for fuel—a fish like this would just simply be devoured as is from what you'd seen—you knew they could taste, and that when presented with chances to try something that was flavored in some regard, they did seem to enjoy it. Especially Sun, having taken one bite of your beef jerky and snatching the rest away for himself when you'd not been paying attention.

Though you only had the one fish and just a few other ingredients to work with, you had several ideas in mind for how to properly utilize it. Taking the large butcher knife, you cleaned, gutted, and scaled it, and divided it up into proper pieces.

The loin you'd make steaks out of, pan searing and basting in fats, utilizing the bit of pepper and spices you had available. You set aside three to cook and stored the rest in the freezer.

The back you would smoke, creating some jerky from the pieces there. Thankfully, Moon kept firewood around in case the power failed entirely, and you doubted he would notice a few pieces going missing. You'd utilized one of the broken freezers for your smokehouse.

The belly would be raw, sliced thin and served with a bit of the salty roe that you'd discovered inside the fish initially.

As for the remaining bits of the fish, you'd stew the bones for a broth and fry the collar and cheeks as one final touch to finish off the meal.

It was a lot, all things considered, and for them it may very well be next to nothing in comparison to their appetites, especially Sun's. But, that wasn't going to deter you from trying your best to make something from your heart. So, you got to work.

You had no idea when Moon would return, so you tried your best to work both quickly and effectively. Thankfully, since several items were basic prep, they took very little time to come together. You enjoyed it, the process overall. After all the time being spent on you, being able to give back felt gratifying in its own way, exciting even. Again, ignoring your own feelings about the yeti.

At some point, you even find a small radio, the batteries still good to your delight. Despite your location, you can just barely catch a signal as sappy love songs play from some far away station. You hum and dance and sing to the music as you cook, the time passing by like nothing to you in your focused state. You even are able to make yourself some hot coco, sipping on it throughout the cooking process.

You're so focused, even, that you don't notice the towering presence hovering around the other side of the counter until you turn directly to face it. You were just setting down the last bit of the meal, ready to sit and wait for Moon's return, so color you shocked when you find yourself face to chest with Sun instead.

His head cocked to the side as he looks down at you, expression unreadable as he examines you with that calculated stare.

"You've been busy." He states.

You come out of your daze, shaking your head. "I-yeah. I have."

"Tore up the meat. A pity. I was going to enjoy that." He picks at one of his claws, you see a hint of red stained there before he glances back up to you, grin wide. "Though, it's not nearly as good as when it's fresh, anyhow."

You both know that fresh isn't quite what he's implying.

You swallow, while you'd been expecting Moon—and would have preferred him, especially in this case—this was technically a gift for the day-themed yeti too.

Deciding you weren't going to let your lingering fear overtake you, you straighten up, and steady your voice. "This is all for you, actually. And Moon, of course. I, wanted to extend my thanks for, allowing me to stay these past few months." This again was technically all for Moon, but you couldn't exactly say that with Sun standing right in front of you.

"I—Me?" He questions, eyes widening and grin falling.

You nod. "Yeah, I um, figured that something made with a bit more care might be something you guys liked. I noticed you never really get the chance to... add more flavor to things, and you seemed to like my snacks in the past so, i just—" You stop when you find that he's eye to eye with you now, baring down on you with a serious expression you weren't anticipating.

"You made us, me, a meal?" The way the words are half-snarled mere inches from your face makes you flinch.

"Y-yes?"

Sun stares at you for a bit longer, and if you weren't so alarmed you'd move away. But you don't.

After a few moments more, he huffs, then starts to chuckle, standing straight again. "Aren't you just so interesting, Little Star?"

You feel confusion knit your brows only for them to shoot up in shock as Sun's hand suddenly grasps your chin, leaning in again.

His other hand snatches one of the pieces of raw fish from the table, eating it in one bite. "Such an offering from you is, surprising but, despite your, obvious misconceptions about our relationship, I suppose I can consider it." He tilts your head this was and that. "You're not the worst option I've ever been presented with."

"I, huh?"

He let's you go again, grabbing one of the steaks with his bare hands. His teeth tear through it like it's nothing. You can only watch as you try to understand what he's saying, not entirely comprehending it.

When he's finished, he wipes his mouth, snickering to himself. "I certainly can't wait to see what he thinks of your proposition. I'm sure it will be entertaining to say the least."

Before you can respond, he walks over to the light switch, dimming the lights as low as possible, thus allowing for Moon to take his place.

As the switch occurs, Sun makes one final remark, and it all finally clicks to you. "Something you should keep in mind though if I do accept, Sunshine, is that I don't share."

With that, you're left with an embarrassing realization, and Moon.

You can't make eye contact with him, instead turning around and starting to busy yourself with cleaning up to distract from the burning feeling spread across your cheeks.

You can't believe you didn't put together that something like this would mean something like that to them. But it's not like you would have known either! How were you supposed to understand the cultural differences between humans and yeti-robots that lived in abandoned research centers? This feels like something that was on them and not you to be honest.

Your half-delusioned reasonings do nothing to stop the racing in your heart as you clean, and you just hope to finish up quickly, grab a snack for yourself, and get out of there to keep yourself from any further embarrassment.

"It's very good, Starlight."

You pause for a moment, then hum. "Y-yeah?"

"Yes. The amount of flavor you've packed into each dish is... incredible." Moon says, sounding genuinely a bit in awe.

It only worsens your state, mumbling back a quiet response. "I'm, I'm glad you like it."

Quiet between the two of you. The radio still plays softly throughout the space, only disrupted by the sound of clinking as you clean things up, or Moon's utensils scraping against each other.

"So what Sun said—" "You should eat too—"

You both stop, and looking back to him, you laugh softly.

You nod. "You first."

"Join me." He pats a seat next to him. "It's only fair after the effort you've put in."

"Oh! Okay."

You try not to make a fool of yourself as you make your way over and sit down. You can only protest as Moon piles you a plate full of food, depositing it in front of you once he's finished.

He hands you a fork, chuckling at the scowl on your features. "You need your energy too, if you want to stand any chance at getting better."

"You're not wrong." You sigh, taking a bite of the smoked fish. As you'd hoped, it's delicious, and you appreciate your own efforts to make such good food in that moment.

"So,"—Moon reaches for a bit of the fried collar—"You were saying?"

You almost choke on the bite you just swallowed. You regain your composure to answer. "I, um, Sun mentioned, that um, something like this was very, very, important to you guys in a specific way. Which, honestly I didn't know and I'm so sorry if I've offended you I just wanted to do something nice—"

You're interrupted by a kiss pressed to your forehead.

"I would say offended is nowhere close to the feelings you've elicited. Honestly." The night-themed yeti states, amusement between the words. "Rather, I find myself rather interested in your proposal, intentional or not."

Your eyes widen ever further. "Pr-proposal?"

"If I'm misreading, then I am sorry, Star. But I—"

"No!" You shake your head, trying again. "No, you're not um, misreading. But again this wasn't my intent at all. I'm definitely all for it. I mean, to a point you know, sorry this isn't something I ever expected to happen but I really do like you, a lot and—"

Instead of a kiss, a piece of tuna is pressed into your mouth, and with how good it is you can't say for sure that you'd prefer the kiss or not. As you chew, a slight scowl on your features, Moon laughs. It makes your heart flutter for a moment.

"I really like you too. I wasn't sure that you'd feel the same, so I didn't act on those feelings. But, since you've shown that you clearly feel something,"—He snickers as you shoot him another glare—"For me, I'm more than happy to make it clear to you now."

"Gee, thanks."

Another kiss is pressed to your hair, arm wrapping around you and you welcome it, snuggling into the warm fur next to you. You grab a piece of tuna, munching on it to hide your fluster in that moment.

"And since he's already said it, I will too." Moon's voice is right next to your ear in that moment, low but lethal.

"I don't share either."

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Thank you for the request @divinit3a!! I had lots and lots of fun with the yetis and i can't wait to see what else you do with them yourself, i may perhaps do a bit more when I find the time hehehehe

My writing Masterpost

DCA Valentine's Masterpost

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

#fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #x reader #dca fic #mm dca valentine's #gahhh i loved writing for the yetis oughhh #feral dca my beloved #i rotated them around in my head a lot before after and during writing for them #hsakflksajf #so much fun with these two truly

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saphiccarma · 2 days ago

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You don't have to if you're not comfortable! I had a little idea of reader getting too overwhelmed and laying their head down in Agathas lap while she's reading or doing something that's been keeping her busy- and the reader just goes silent while Agatha figures out what's happening since reader is usually never like this before realizing they slipped into little space.

Just a lot of fluff and reassurance, reader mostly doing gestures and hand motions to try and say what they want without crying and getting more overwhelmed- maybe getting tucked into bed with a small stuffed animal and Agatha humming while running her fingers through their hair :)

- I'll take care of you

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Little!Reader

Summary - After a rough day you seek solace in the only person who can give it to you.

Warnings: None really. Little!Reader and Caregiver!Agatha

A/N: this was a nice change of pace from the usual smut. I'm sorry it's short but I'm actually kinda happy with it :) I loveeeeed this request

Your skin felt as if it had been set on fire, a tingling sensation that spread through your whole body. Sniffling slightly, tears brimming your eyes, you shuffled into the living room, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders like a shield.

Cars outside raged - you hated living on a busy street - and the birds crowed. The wind whipped against the windows harshly, banging the shutters around and knocking trees into the wall so that they clattered loudly. The added sound of rain pounding onto the roof made you feel like it was all too much.

Nearly instantly your eyes locked onto Agatha's form, neatly sitting on the couch. She had her legs propped up on the coffee table, crossed and jeans creasing at the corners. In her hands was a book that she had been reading all day - it wasn't often Agatha had been invested in something for so long that she hardly paid attention to you, but it was happening now.

You’d been vying for her attention all day. Whining at her childishly and stomping your feet to get her attention. If anything, she ignored you more. Or you made your steps loud and dragged your feet when walking past, hoping she would finally give you a time of day. Nothing you did worked, she was too engrossed in her blanket.

You weren't sure what it was about, and you couldn't care as you dragged your feet over to her. Hands tightening on the blanket, you stare down at her from where you stood, hoping she would look up and notice her. But she was too engrossed in her book. You needed her right now. Your brain was so foggy, overwhelmed by the day, and you just wanted to let go. Let Agatha take care of you and make you feel safe and cozy.

When her eyes stayed trained on her book and not you, you huffed childishly before plopping down on the couch next to her. After a moment you lean over and duck under her arm, placing your head in her lap. She glances at you, just briefly, with a smile on her face and settles a hand atop your head. She brushes some hair away with slender fingers before resuming her reading, still ignoring you. Tears sting the corner of your eyes as you bite your lip.

The simple touch douses you in a wave of cold water, soothing the sting of your skin. The burning buzz disperses, and you feel better now that she’s touching you in a tender way.

Slipping your hand out of the blanket cocoon you have; you tug on the hand that rests atop your head. Agatha still doesn't move. Frustrated, you bring it around and hold it close to your chest. Then an idea strikes you, and in your quickly fading mature headspace, you lift her fingers to your mouth. You part your lips and suckle on the digits, eyes fluttering at the sensation of comfort it gives you.

It wasn’t something you did often, much like Agatha’s obsession, but you needed that right now. Agatha gives a surprised hum, glancing down at you and her eyes remain for the first time all day. You hear the book softly fall shut as she places it aside and her other hand brushes through your hair.

"Darling?" she asks softly, waiting to see if you'll respond verbally. All she gets in response is a whine and you burrow your head further into her lap, "I see," she sighs, a small smile gracing her lips. She knows now, knows you're little and don't feel like being big.

Usually you were quite verbal, almost always babbling about something with excitement. And she always eagerly listened, but your silence was a key indicator that you were in little headspace.

Her nails scratch against your scalp lightly and your lips curl around her fingers tighter, as if afraid she'll leave. "I'm not going anywhere," she murmurs, sensing your intentions. The two of you sit there for a moment, her hand running through your hair gently and you sucking on her fingers while you keep a blanket cocoon firmly wrapped around you.

Agatha checks the time, noting how it's still quite early, but she can see the way your eyes are fluttering shut and your lips loosen on her fingers slightly. Gently, so as to not upset you, Agatha removes her fingers from your mouth.

The reaction you have is instant, hands shooting out to pull her back with a low, frustrated, whine. The weight of her fingers settling back on your tongue calms you down once again. The woman above you chuckles slightly, an amused sigh leaving her.

"I think it's time for bed," she hums, swiping hair away from your face with delicate fingertips, "C'mon."

You shake your head petulantly, quite comfy here, despite how heavy your eyes are. Laying here with her for now sounds nice, it's peaceful and you can pretend the rain isn't pouring outside. A finger gently taps your chin, turning your head to look at her. She raises an unimpressed eyebrow, but muted amusement shines in her eyes, as does affection.

"Yes." Her words are firm, and you practically melt into her, "You're sleepy and Mommy thinks it's time for bed, hm?" She doesn't give you a chance to argue, instead leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead before popping her fingers out of your mouth and slipping out from under you.

Giving her a firm, well as firm as you can when in little headspace, you whine and make grabby hands. Your lips pucker into a pout as your feet kick out. Arms outstretched, you give Agatha wide, pleading eyes, begging her to pick you up. She makes a show of rolling her eyes, but lifts you up by your armpits, situating you on her front like a child. The blanket falls off your shoulders and onto the couch silently.

The minute her hands are supporting your thighs; you wrap your arms around her. Then your face buries in her neck and you sigh. She smells like husky amber and something that is so uniquely Agatha, something you can't place. But regardless, it smells like home - it smells safe. Her strong arms have no problem carrying you to the bedroom.

"Alright, hon, let's get you into some comfy clothes yeah?" Agatha places you on the bed gently, giving a soft smile. Reluctantly, you let go of her, lips pouting once again, as you watch her wander over to the dressers. She picks out a pair of pajamas for you, holding them up for you to see.

Shaking your head, you cross your arms over your chest, not liking the pair she chose. They were scratchy and always too hot, no matter how cold it was. Agatha mutters something unintelligible before putting them back and choosing a different pair. You give her a happy nod of approval and in return you are rewarded with a soft murmur of, "Good girl."

The praise makes your heart warm, and head grow heavy as she tugs on the hem of your shirt. You lift your arms obediently, letting her replace your shirt. Pants come next, Agatha tugging them down your legs and having you step in the new pair.

"There we go," she gives you an appraising look, "All nice and cozy. Now let's get tucked into bed."

She gently guides you to lay down, but not before tugging the blanket out from under you. Agatha moves with practiced ease as she drapes it over your shoulders, tucking in the corners nice and tight, just how you like it. Then your eyes widen when you notice she's forgetting something and your hand shoots out, catching her wrist and giving it a sharp tug. For the briefest of moments Agatha looks confused, then she takes in the tears bubbling once again and it clicks.

Your plushie is snatched from the end of the bed and handed to you. You wrap your arms around it, tucking it close to your chest and giving your caretaker a watery smile. A tender kiss is placed to your forehead, her lips lingering comfortingly as she murmurs a soft, “I love you.”

Then her lips trail down, and she presses a little kiss to your nose, which crinkles a the touch, before blowing a teasing raspberry to your cheek. You giggle a little, your eyes shining with something other than tears, and squirm away.

Agatha chases after you, smothering your face in loving kisses even as you playfully struggle, pretending to push her away, “Aggie!” you laugh softly, the sound quiet but filled with joy, “That tickles.”

“Alright, alright.” A final kiss is placed to your forehead before she’s securing the blankets around you and rounding the bed to the other side.

"Comfy?" she asks, not really expecting you to respond. She slides into the bed, above the covers since they are wrapped so tightly around you, and her hand rests on your head. It only takes a second before she's carding her fingers through your hair gently, nails lightly scraping every now and then.

When it becomes clear you aren't going to sleep from that alone, Agatha starts humming a tune. You aren't sure what it is and your brain is too clouded for you to bother figuring it out. All you know is that her hands feel so nice in your hair, her voice is drifting through the room softly, and you are nice and cozy.

You hardly notice the cars outside the window, or the rain, or the wind, or the worries of the day - focused solely on the peace of the moment. Eyes fluttering shut you sigh in content, scooching to lean against Agatha's leg.

She laughs softly, a momentary pause in her humming, "Rest now," she whispers, "Mommy will be right here when you wake up."

Closing your eyes, you relish in her touch and soft humming, quickly slipping into the realm of sleep.

#agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #caregiver Agatha harkness #age regression caregiver #sfw agere #little reader #caregiver!Agatha Harkness #x you

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sturnslutz · 7 hours ago

Text

berry goes to matt's house for a little "tutoring session."

warnings: weed smoking, shotgunning, making out, grinding/dry humping, no actual p in v, basically sub matt, use of “mama”

the drive to matt's house didn't take very long. he insisted earlier in class that he could come pick you up in his brand new family van they recently got, but you denied politely as you had to do a couple errands for your aunt before seeing matt.

a couple textbooks and your laptop filled your passenger seat alongside your purse and whatever you needed. you didn't know if matt smoked or not, chris did, but you didn't really expect matt to. you brought a couple blunts just in case.

you sent matt a small message stating you got to his house as you knocked the door three times softly. he hearted it before shortly arriving after to the door. his face flushed a soft red as he smiled at you softly, muttering a small "hi."

"hey, matt. just you home?"

matt opened the door wider for you to come in, which you did. looking around, it looked a lot more normal then your house did which was filled with bright colors and aesthetics that you and your aunt love.

"yeah, my parents are at work and chris and nick are out somewhere, i'on really know." he said softly as he shut the door. he trailed behind you as you started exploring and walking around, which he made no effort to stop you, but was rather intrigued.

"sorry it's not much. our house is kinda boring." he said as he scratched the back of his neck, a bit worried you were going to judge him. did he really think you were like that? he couldn't help himself but inhale the trail of strawberry perfume filling the air around the both of you.

you stopped your movements abruptly, which almost made matt bump into you. "matt, do you think i'm a horrible person or something? i love your house, no matter what. i'm actually quite fascinated with it. i've never been in a house which wasn't maximalist to the max, or filled with a range of every color. i like this simple look."

he searched your face for any hint you were lying, but your big eyes just looked up at him with the most genuine honesty. he smiled softly, looking away and running a hand through his hair. "thank you. i really appreciate it. do you wanna head up to my room now? i think you'll like it a lot."

you face brightened even more at the thought, eliciting a big smile across your face. "yes, of course! lead the way.” he nodded and turned, beginning to walk to the staircase as you followed after him.

his room was the complete opposite of what you thought it was. it was filled to the brim with comic posters, action figures, legos of every universe, so many stuffed animals, and everything matt couldn't express in words, but rather filled his thoughts.

"sorry, it's a lot. it's really nerdy too." he said softly, his voice shaking a bit. you looked around the room in awe, genuinely surprised he's embarrassed by this. you would love to have a room like this.

"it's not, at all. i actually love it so much. its so you. i like being able to see what you're interests are." he smiled again softly, his blue eyes scrunching up in his glasses as he ran a hand through his hair, again.

"thank you, berry. i really appreciate that. so, do you wanna start studying?" he sits down on his bed, sitting in a criss-cross position as he looked up at you through those damn glasses that you adored. he looked so hot like this.

"yep. i brought some papers i need to finish." you sat down, tossing your shoes off and sitting in the same position as him, but across him as you grabbed your bag, dumping it. his eyes skimmed through the papers, but noticed something he didn't expect.

two blunts sitting right next to each other.

you saw him look at them, and you chuckled softly. "didn't know if you smoked or not, but they help me relax and study better. thought i could smoke one here, if you're cool with it."

he looked up at you again, nodding a bit. "y-yeah sure, i don't mind. do you think it'll make my room smell?" he asked a bit nervously. his parents knew that chris smoked to help with his adhd, but he didn't want them to think he did it also.

you nodded, picking them up and looking for the lighter through your papers. "yeah, probably because it's a blunt and not a cart, those don't smell as much. but don't worry i got some perfume that makes the weed smell basically disappear."

his face seemed to understand but also didn't. "a cart- whats that?"

you laughed a bit again, rubbing his knee. "nothing you need to worry about." he nodded again, now directing his attention to a couple of your papers, trying to understand what he actually needed to help you on.

what he didn't notice though, was you holding one of the blunts up to your mouth and lighting it, and when he did, it was when you blew the smoke towards him causing him to cough a bit. "shit- sorry baby. are you okay?" he nodded, his coughing wearing down. what caught him again off guard was the name you called him. baby.

"yeah, i'm okay." you took another hit, now redirecting it to the door area before looking down at the papers. he seemed to notice your calmer demeanor and wondered if the weed actually did make you focus better.

he didn't notice himself staring at the blunt that was fiddling in between your fingers, but you did. "wanna hit?" his attention came back to you as his eyes opened a bit wide. "what? no-no. well maybe? i don't know how to!" he panicked a bit, making you laugh.

"you don't have to hit it. i'll help. you ever heard of shotgunning?" you take another hit, a smaller one now to help preserve it. "like the chugging beer thing?"

"well, yes. that's also shotgunning, but there's another kind. it's where i take a hit, but blow it into your mouth then you inhale and let it out. it'll get you high also."

knowledge of smoking was not something matt ever thought he would be learning, but he wasn't really complaining.

"oh-okay. yeah, we can do it." he said, waiting for the rest of your instruction. you smiled, moving the papers off the bed as you handed him the blunt to hold, so you wouldn't burn yourself. you sat back up right, taking the blunt back into your hand.

"okay, just relax, lemme do what i need to do. also, can i straddle you? it helps me actually do it right." he was taken aback a bit at the thought of you actually getting on top of him, but nodded. "y-yeah. sure. go ahead." he leaned back into the bed more as he stretched out his legs and you climbed on top of him, right above his cock.

he was praying that he wouldn't get a boner as he knew you would feel it, so tried to look elsewhere, now fairly interested in his poster of pokemon he got when he was 11.

you chuckled a bit, grabbing his face in your left hand, redirecting his face towards you. "it's not gonna work if you're not actually looking at me, matt." he muttered a small "sorry" as you lifted the blunt to your lips, taking a big hit before leaning down.

your lips touched his as he let out a soft gasp, allowing you to blow the smoke into his mouth. once you blew most of it in, you leaned back up, watching his face. "inhale, good, now exhale." he did exactly as you said, but letting out harsh coughs in result.

you smiled at him as he finally regained his breath, looking up at you. his face was flushed as a cherry, but he laughed a bit. "that was my first kiss." he softly admitted, but this time not taking his eyes off you.

"really? wanna have another?" you smirked as you leaned back down, putting the blunt back in between your lips as you let out a puff of smoke, filling the air once around you both again. you finally had finished it, burying it's end into the table next to his bed as he nodded.

you leaned back all the way down, reconnecting your lips with his. he was very patient with it and being gentle. he let his hands fall to your hips as the kisses deepened, a very noticeable poke in between your thighs now.

your tongue made it's way into his mouth, matt happily accepting it. for what was his first kiss, he sure was good at it. you couldn't help but notice the ache in between your thighs, right where matt was. you started absentmindedly grinding against him, causing matt to moan into your mouth as you smirked and pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the both of you still. his flushed face and lopsided glasses made you even wetter than before.

"y'ever had a girl do this to you before, baby?" you tease him a bit, obviously knowing his answer. he shakes his head softly, burying his forehead in your neck. "n-no." "feel good, huh?" he whined softly as your hand reached to his head, gently pulling his hair. "mm-mhm."

"need words, matt." you tug a bit harder on his strands, causing a even louder whine to come from his throat. "yes, feels good." you nodded, grabbing his head out of your neck and softly pushing it back down on the pillow as you kiss him again.

this time, he was more hungry. his kisses were intense, like he was trying to kiss you deeper despite the minimal space between the both of you.

grinding against him was easy, his boner was very evident through his sweatpants, and you grinding against him gave him pleasure he never knew could erupt in him.

“fuck- mama, i’m close” he whimpered a bit softly as his hands gripped your ass through your pants, his hands roaming every inch he could. “yeah? cum for me, matt. i’m right here behind you.” you moaned softly as your head fell against his chest.

you pushed your hips closer to his, your movements minimal but rather putting pressure on his covered cock and your covered ache.

“fuck! berry!” he whimpered loudly as a warm spot filled the space between you two. you looked down as the dark grey spot grew larger with every twitch of his cock in his pants.

“i’m almost there, matty. can you cum again?” his fucked-out look without actually being in you, was so hot. you don’t know when, but he took off his glasses and set them aside, now allowing you to see his slightly red, dilated big blue eyes perfectly.

you don’t know if it’s the high, but just looking at him made you cum faster against him than you expected. your orgasm came as a surprise for you, loud moans coming from your mouth as your head falls against his chest.

he came for the 2nd time right after. moans and strangled whimpers fall from his mouth, filling the room with even more pretty sounds. as you both caught your breath, you rested against his chest, as his fingers played with your hair a bit.

your clothes sticking to you because of the sweat made you ick and he could tell you felt like this from your movements, almost trying to take it off.

“do you want me to get you some new clothes? i need to change anyways.” he whispers to you softly. a nod comes from you as you roll off him, flopping to the other side. his pants had a very evident dark grey area from the combination of your liquids flowing through your clothing.

a small chuckle falls from him as he looks down. he stands up, but his legs are wobbly, causing him to fall back on the bed. “what the hell?” he mutters a bit as his legs become a bit tingly.

“just relax a bit more, this was probably the first orgasm you had that actually made your body feel different, right?” you whisper a bit as you rub his arm a bit.

he hums a bit and nods, taking your advice. once he finally felt like he could stand properly, he walked carefully to his dresser. he pulled out 2 of his shirts, and 2 new pairs of sweats, and 2 new pairs of boxers.

“i don’t have any underwear so are boxers okay?” he walks over and hands the clothing to you as you hand him his glasses, immediately bringing back his vision.

“yeah, thank you matt.” he nods a bit as he walks out of his room, changing in the bathroom. you stood up and changed into his slightly oversized clothing, but extremely comfortable.

he knocks a couple times against the door as you allow him to come in. you were already laying back down in his bed, and his heart swoons seeing you in his clothing. he lays down next to you, fiddling with his fingers a bit.

“do you want to study a bit more?” he asks randomly, causing you to laugh loudly.

“didn’t we learn enough? we’ll just do it later.” he nods, understanding. both of your thoughts are interrupted at the sound of the front door opening, and chris and nick’s voices flowing through the house.

matt looks at you with worry in his eyes, but you rub his arm, helping him relax. “don’t worry, just relax. can i stay over? it’ll help me give them a better reasoning as to why im in your clothes.”

he nods immediately. “sure. of course. i’m sure my parents won’t mind. what about yours?”

“nah, my aunt won’t care. i live with her right now. sometimes i go to my parents’ house in upstate.” you explain to him as a knock comes through the door. “hey matt? you home, man?”

chris’s voice is heard as matt stiffens up once again. “just chill.” he lets out a breath as he talks. “yeah, i’m here.” and that lets chris in. his eyes immediately fall to matt, but then look to you as he gasps a bit.

“matt’s here, and berry’s here… in matt’s room? what the hell…?” it was clear chris was a bit high just like you and matt. the scent of weed also hits chris’s nose as he lets out another question. “were you guys smoking?”

“hey, chris. i came because he was tutoring me, and i smoked a bit because you know how it helps me study better. it’s getting late so matt told me i can stay here, and he allowed me to be in his clothes.”

chris nods slowly, but seemingly understands. “ight. mom and dad are staying at aunt cathy’s house tonight, so it’s just the 4 of us tonight, okay?”

his sight goes between you and matt as both you and matt nod. “okay, i got another blunt for later if you and nick wanna smoke it with us.” chris nodded at you, glancing out matt’s window. “hell yeah, but when it gets a bit darker out. so like 10? it’s saturday tomorrow so we’re good.”

you look at matt for a confirmation to which he nods, once again. “yeah, okay.” he says softly. chris walks out, and you plop back down next to matt, rubbing his shoulder. “you okay?” he smiles and hums. “yeah, i’m good. that felt really good.”

“i’m glad. dry humping is good, but actual sex is amazing. we aren’t there yet though.” his eyes widen a bit at the thought of actually having sex, but relaxed a bit at your reassurance.

“mhm- okay.” you smile again, rubbing his cheek a bit. “let’s take a nap before you we have to spend the whole night with energetic nick and chris.”

he laughs, nodding. he dips his head into your neck, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you tight. he knew you two weren’t official and didn’t know if you’d actually ever be, but he knew he trusted you.

#alexis talks #alexis shut up #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fic #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturnslutz #=nerd!matt #=strawberry!reader #chris sturniolo fic #nick sturniolo fic

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cosmerelists · 2 days ago

Text

I Assign Cosmere Characters A Random Animal As Their Pet

I'm using the random generator from this post. I've already created a list of Cosmere characters (it's just the main characters I always do, ha ha), and then I'll randomly assign them a pet and see how they fair! For the record, these results are not altered at all!

[For the purposes of this post, we're gonna pretend that any animal that comes up would make a good and ethical pet, okay? Please don't actually try to adopt a bear.]

1. Kaladin: A dromedary (a type of camel)

Kaladin: [stares at the camel] Camel: [stares at Kaladin] Kaladin: T-This is just a bigger, meaner horse! Kaladin: I can tell just from one glance into its eyes that that hump is full of SPITE Camel: [spits at Kaladin] Kaladin: I KNEW IT

2. Vin: A mustang (a type of horse)

Vin: Yes, yes, you think you're soooo pretty and fast, don't you? Vin: I'm faster, you know. Probably. With enough metal. Vin: So just don't you getting to big for your horse britches! Elend: Wow! What a beautiful horse! Vin: Don't you start!

3. Shallan: A monkey

Shallan: What a cute little monkey you are! Shallan: With the little outfit Adolin sewed for you, and the paintbrush I gave you! Shallan: A regular little monkey artist! Pattern: [buzzing] I keep telling you, Shallan, this creature wants to be like that one person I saw when you were looking for the herald! It wants to be paint with its p- Shallan (loudly): We'll just use regular paint, thank you!

4. Tress: A mandrill (largest monkey in the world)

Tress: Wow, you have such a pretty face, ma'am! Tress: And a large girl like you won't need to fear any mean ol' cat, will you! Charlie: I feel strangely inadequate. Tress: I-I didn't mean it that way!

5. Dalinar: A bear

Dalinar: You and I are a lot alike, bear. Dalinar: We are both large and intimidating, and we can hurt a lot of people if we get violent. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: Also, apparently Navani really likes to cuddle with both of us. Navani: He's soooo soft!

6. Painter: A bighorn (a type of sheep)

Painter: I like him. Painter: He's got a noble bearing. You can tell with those big horns and steely gaze, he's probably king of his herd or something. Painter: So please stop stacking chopsticks on his head. Yumi: Come on, he LOVES his chopstick-tower-hat! Bighorn: [making happy sheep noises] Painter: I-I just think his gravitas is taking a hit.

7. Leshwi: A burro (a type of donkey)

Lewshi: I'll admit, I was really hoping for an animal that could fly. Venli: Surely anything can fly if you lash it to the sky. Leshwi: I tried that. Leshwi: Apparently donkeys don't like to fly.

8. Adolin: A basilisk (a type of lizard)

Shallan: So...why the little cape on your lizard friend? Adolin: He runs across water! It's cool, but I thought it would look even cooler if he was wearing a cape while he did it! Shallan: Where do you find enough water for that? Adolin: Well...he's mostly been running across a bathtub. Shallan: Ah, so he REALLY needs the coolness factor of a cape... Adolin: Yeah, I think it'll really help his self-esteem.

9. Steris: A sheep

Wax: Hey Steris. Steris: Hello, Wax. Wax: I can't help but notice that where yesterday was one sheep, today there are fifteen sheep. Steris: I read that they feel better in herds! Wax: You always go all in--I love that about you. Wax: ... Steris: ... Wax: So we're sheep farmers now? Steris: A little bit, yeah.

10. Navani: A ferret

Sibling: NAVANI YOUR FERRET IS RUNNING THROUGH MY TUNNELS AGAIN Navani: It loves you! Sibling: IT'S LIKE THAT LIFT CHILD ALL OVER AGAIN

11. Siri: A budgerigar (bird)

Siri: This little guy is perfect for me! Siri: Colorful, small, sweet! Siri: I'm teaching it to talk! Budgie: Let's destroy evil! Siri: ... Siri: Uncle Vasher was here again, wasn't he?

12. Kelsier: A duckbill platypus (yes, really)

Kelsier: Everyone, meet the newest member of our team! Dockson: Uh...what is that? Vin: It looks like a bunch of different animals stuck together. Breeze: Rather unsightly, really. Ham: You, uh, doing okay, Kel? Kelsier: You're all such doubters. But watch what happens when I do THIS! [Puts a fedora on the platypus] Vin: ...Why do I suddenly feel like he's going to make a great spy? Kelsier: Trust me, this is gonna be great!

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Kaladin #Adolin #Shallan #Kelsier #Dalinar #Navani #Leswhi #Siri #Steris #Painter #Tress #Vin

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yanderes-galore · 1 day ago

Note

for the 16th rivalry between yandere lmk wukong and macaque?? please

Hm... I can try some rivalry HCs, sure!

Yandere! Sun Wukong vs Macaque

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Possessive behavior, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Violence, Attempted kidnapping mentioned, Isolation, Jealousy, Dubious relationship.

I think this is a cool idea considering how their dynamic and characters are portrayed in canon.

After all, Sun Wukong and Macaque are meant to be opposites of one another.

They were once sworn brothers and friends, then after Macaque was left behind they were enemies.

Later on they become 'friends' again... but imagine if they both got attached to the same person while being enemies?

Maybe you meet Sun Wukong first, a known hero who gets all the fame.

You may even be close to the monkey king similar to MK, making you both friends.

In this case, Macaque's obsession over you would be to get back at Wukong.

He doesn't want to see the other monkey happy after just abandoning him.

Then while he's originally hunting you down out of spite... Turns out he can see why Wukong enjoys your company.

Alternatively, If Macaque gets obsessed first, he may also use it against Wukong.

Macaque is naturally manipulative, it would not surprise me if he used you to taunt Wukong.

After all, Wukong is beloved by many, but Macaque bets he isn't adored by a special someone.

This ends up making Wukong curious about you.

At the time Macaque wasn't dating you and was lying to mess with Wukong, which made the monkey king look into you.

Unfortunately now both monkeys begin to fight for your affection because Macaque can tell Wukong is going to take you from him... like he's taken everything else.

Another thing I'd like to note about this concept is the fact they seem rather evenly matched.

Macaque is quite literally meant to be Wukong's shadow, they have nearly the same abilities.

Clones, shapeshifting, although they have different fighting styles, they're very similar to one another with the exception of a few skills.

Their motives would also differ between one another.

Wukong tends to lean protective most of the time, while Macaque tends to lean possessive.

However, that does not mean they both aren't capable of these traits... That's just where they tend to lean towards.

I was going to say their rivalry would be petty, but that's only if they were on good terms.

Since Macaque is scared of abandonment, he'd probably aim to get rid of Wukong permanently if he felt you were going to be taken from him.

Meanwhile, Wukong doesn't trust Macaque to not do anything cruel with you.

They're both scared to lose you to the other, but again, different motives.

Wukong thinks you're going to get hurt, Macaque doesn't want to be hurt again...

Which makes both monkeys decide they should try to keep you away from the other.

I do think their rivalry would get violent but they'd never get to the point of killing one another as one of them will always retreat.

Macaque is always following you around like a shadow, hoping he'll get your attention with his sweet words.

Wukong warns you about him, but he's no better honestly.

Macaque stalks you through the shadows, Wukong 'watches over you' as different animals.

See? There's little difference between them but motive and method.

The two still stalk you, the two still fight for you, they're pretty much the same.

Just because Wukong isn't sly and overly charismatic as Macaque doesn't mean he isn't manipulating you in some way.

Both of them want to isolate you, both of them want you to themselves...

Seriously, is there much of a difference between 'protecting you' and 'isolating you' when it comes to them?

No, No there isn't.

Not only that but their fights are nearly catastrophic.

They're both ridiculously strong and determined to get their way.

It may even be a bit upsetting because Macaque just wants to find someone to give him attention?

He definitely takes this rivalry personally since Macaque thinks Wukong has everything.

When in reality, Wukong is probably in a similar boat.

They both just want attention and love from one specific person.

Which, unfortunately, happens to be you.

I can see them both being clingy and brutal in their obsession.

They both like to be playful and clingy with you, completely unwilling to share you.

They both have their sights on you as their partner, probably even for life if they can get you immortal.

Just imagine how their fights would go...

It would not be surprising if they came out of it bleeding, still growling at one another like feral animals until you step in to break things up.

While they may not kill one another, they often drag you around due to their rivalry.

For example, there were probably many times Macaque tried to drag you off into one of his shadow portals... Only for Wukong to step in.

Or maybe Wukong's trying to keep you on Flower Fruit Mountain to hide you from Macaque... Only for the shadow monkey to know exactly where you went.

I feel the only way to stop this rivalry, or at least make them stop being so brutal, would be after the Azure Lion arc.

By that point they're on better terms with one another, not quite friends but not entirely enemies...

Yet they both can't seem to accept the fact they both love you.

They'd tone down the fighting by this point but you'd still need to step in to soothe them.

For now they can accept the fact you love them both... yet they always want more.

They're greedy.

So even if you can calm them, they're still possessive.

They both want you as their own, to claim you and mark you as their chosen partner.

But, neither of them can get that far as the other one will stop them.

While they will accept the fact they both protect you, they both want you safe, and overall have the same goal to keep you happy...

They aren't happy until one of them wins.

They may not kill one another, but their fights seem to get close.

You worry for them, you really do.

Yet there's nothing you can do but let what's going on play out.

Even if you made a choice on which one you want as a partner, if you're even interested... The other would never accept that choice.

What might be worse is you probably don't even reciprocate.

You don't love them like they love you, you see them as friends.

Even if one of them won, you wouldn't be happy.

Either option still makes you isolated and hidden away from anyone else.

It's funny how similar they are... in a morbid way.

It just depends on what you prefer.

A manipulative monkey who wants to treat you like a toy he can't share...

Or would you rather have a monkey who thinks hiding you away will keep you safe and happy on a mountain?

Honestly, in the end, who wins doesn't matter for you... If there's even a winner.

You'll just be given the same outcome even if there's one who wins...

Maybe it's a good thing if neither of them have you and they continue to fight....

#yandere lego monkie kid #yandere lmk #yandere sun wukong #yandere macaque #yandere sun wukong x reader #yandere macaque x reader

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rockethorse · 2 days ago

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My scheduled bi-yearly rant about the absolute state of Sims money-gouging

Not to moan about everything all the time and at the end of the day I do enjoy parts of TS4, but I remember when TS3 came out I felt like many of those packs were a rip-off. TS3 Seasons in particular I considered a money-grab and that those features should have been rolled into the base game, since the only reason they weren't a part of TS2's basegame was for technical limitations. I cannot believe that I now look at the TS3 expansion packs and consider them good value.

There was no reason for Seasons to have been an expansion pack in TS4. The only reason "weather" was locked behind DLC is because 1) they were taking advantage of a precedence set when there actually were significant barriers to implementing weather, and 2) they know players will pay money for it because unsurprisingly having weather in a LIFE SIMULATOR completely changes the feel and play of the game.

I can't believe how blatant TS4 is about it. TS1 Unleashed introduced cats, dogs, and small animals. TS2 Pets expanded the customisation features and introduced big dogs. TS3 Pets continued all of that and introduced horses, a completely baller move I really respect. What did TS4 Pets include? Well, you see, there was no TS4 Pets, because they understood that carried a certain expectation about quality and building on previous installments. So that's why you can buy TS4 Cats and Dogs for cats and dogs, TS4 My First Pet Stuff for womrats, and then TS4 Horse Ranch for horses. They took the contents of one legacy pack and split it into three separate packs.

I just can't believe that I'm retroactively looking back on post-EA Sims 2 EPs and TS3 EPs and thinking "wow you actually got a lot of value for money". I remember thinking it was ridiculous and lazy how little CAS content you got with new EPs in TS3 - because they wanted you to buy store content - but I never thought they would do the same thing with gameplay. Sure, you were lucky to get a couple of hairstyles and a new shirt with World Adventures, but that's because they were focusing so hard on giving you three new worlds with completely different music and languages and foods and local myths & legends and tombs and money-making avenues like nectar and jewels etc. There is no equivalent to Vacation, Bon Voyage, or World Adventures for TS4. To get the same experience as just one of those packs, you'd have to buy like... Snowy Escape (AU$49.95), Jungle Adventure (AU$29.95), Outdoor Retreat (AU$29.95), and Island Living (AU$49.95).

I frequently see this being defended as TS4 taking inspiration from/"returning to" the simplicity of TS1, but not only is that kind of a terrible justification, since games should evolve as they grow, but it's not even true. TS1 Expansion Packs were often more streamlined compared to TS2 or TS3 which were more (if you'll pardon the expression) expansive, but that didn't mean the content wasn't there. TS2 BV and TS3 WA both offer three separate travel destinations, while TS1 Vacation only had Vacation Island, true. But that was just for player convenience. There were three distinct areas within that island that provided very different experiences, and TS4 basically split those areas up into separate expansion packs and made you pay for all of them separately. And because of that, the core gameplay that tied the original packs together often gets lost. If I'm not mistaken, there aren't hotels in TS4? If you want to "go on holiday", you have to rent out an entire house. I can't wait for them to introduce hotels and hotels alone in The Sims 4: Checking In (AU$59.95).

I know I'm beating a dead The Sims 4 Horse Ranch Expansion Pack (AU$59.95) by saying all of this. "TS4 is money-hungry and is charging more for less content!" is common knowledge at this point, but oh my God, it's so blatant. And there's no reason for it!! None!!! The only way forward would be if TS4 players all just agreed to stop paying any money for expansion packs but it's maddening how that just won't happen and people will continue to let themselves be taken advantage of. The people I'm most sad for are the people who actually like working on The Sims and who have so much creativity in them that gets squeezed to death by EA. There's literally no reason why they can't just be allowed to cram as much content as they can finish into expansion packs before they're released, because I promise you, the ideas are there, even if they're firing all the actual creative people at a breakneck speed. It's literally just some guy at the top crunching numbers in a calculator to see where he can save investors $0.53 cents a year to justify his six figure salary, and his math isn't even right.

I know I'm a TS2 blog so it might be surprising that I pay attention to/care about this but I've played and found ways to enjoy every installment of The Sims franchise that I could get my hands on. And I guess now it's coming back around with the re-release of TS1 and TS2. To be clear, I'm not even mad that they're charging money for them again. That's kind of expected. They never really technically gave them away in the first place, Ultimate Collection etc. was basically operating on the honour system ("I prommy I already own all these disks"), they just didn't care about enforcing it. But I can't believe the state they've released these games in. They had the opportunity AND THE ABILITY to actually make TS1 and TS2 Just Work on modern systems and they blew it. I think many of us would put money down simply for a stress-free installation and nothing else, and they couldn't even do that. And like... this isn't impossible. This is literally what their company does. Sure they're firing people for no reason wherever they can, but the people they do still have are capable of doing this. I just doubt they were given the time, resources, support, or even communication to make it happen.

I hope I meet the guy in charge some day because good lordt. anyway alright time to dive back into the pink soup

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chocos-universe · 1 day ago

Text

Art and fanfic inspo goes to @jarhrjoo

Thank you so much for letting me do this! Love your art!🫶

You're my friend!

___________________________________________

--Cheer up, Shrimpo! It's going to be okay!--

___________________________________________

|Lee - Shrimpo -- Ler - Goob|

___________________________________________

FT - Brightney, Poppy, Cosmo, Sprout, Finn, Looey, Teagan, Connie, & Rodger

___________________________________________

Mentioned - Boxten & Scraps

___________________________________________

×Shrimpo angst×

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Ships Included - Teacase (Teagan x Rodger, Romantic) AngryHugs (Shrimpo x Goob, Platonic)

___________________________________________

"I HATE YOUR LIGHT!! Shrimpo yelled at Brightney "Ugh! Don't you have anything better to do?!" Brightney turned around, her hands on her hips. "NO!" "Gee! Why are you such a burden?!"

Ouch.

"Your bow kinda makes you look ugly... just saying." Shrimpo mumbled to Poppy, rolling his eyes. "Well-- if it's so ugly-- take it!!" She put her bow on his head "Now you're ugly, Mr. Shrimp!" She laughed, shaking her head as Boxten just smiled, chuckling awkwardly.

Ouch..

"I hate things that float! This sucks!!" Shrimpo stomped his foot out of anger. "Um-- ehexCUSE you?" Connie spun around, putting her hand on her hips. "I wasn't talking to you!" "Then don't blabber your useless mouth!!" Connie huffed, floating away

Ouch...

"Ew-- this cupcake tastes awful..." Shrimpo muttered to himself. "Uh-- Sprout, don't--" Comso wrapped his arms around Sprout's arm. "No! If you hate it so much, why don't you just leave?! I'm sure nobody would notice!" Sprout snapped. "Sprout!!" Cosmos eyes widened.

Shut up...

Shrimpo looked down and picked up a thumbtack. "...When did this fall out?" Looey happened to walk by along with Finn. "AHH-! Not another thumbtack, Shrimpo!!" Looey jumped. "Wait--" Shrimpo got cut off. "Stay away!!" Looey screamed and ran "Wait! Looey! But Shrimpo didn't...-" Finn looked back to Looey, then Shrimpo. He gave the shrimp an apologetic glance before running after the balloon animal

What did I even do?..

Shrimpo was just walking around before he heard a scoff from Rodger. "Gonna insult my wife's dress again, ya prick?" Rodger asked, squinting his eye. Teagans eyes just widened. "Rodger! That isn't proper! He didn't even-- Shrimpo, I am so--" "Just leave me alone!!" Shrimpo stomped away

Everyone sucks...

I suck.

I'm awful...

Horrible...

I hate being myself...

Just leave me alone...

Shrimpo slammed his door shut, plopping on his bed and just crying into his pillow. This is the 8th time he's cried all week... Jesus Christ. This isn't fair. It's just how he was made... he didn't know how to change that. If he could, he would. Maybe... just maybe...

He'd finally have a friend?

Shrimpo woke up groggily. Looks like he's cried himself to sleep... again. He checked the time, 7 pm. He sighed tiredly and curled up in his bed. "Ugh... my head is pounding, eugh..." he got up, sliding over to his door as he went into the kitchen. Sprout and Cosmo were there, no surprise. Sprout looked at Shrimpo and glared. "Sprout." Cosmo warned, putting his hands ok his hips as Sprout just sighed. Shrimpo rolled his eyes, opened the cabinet, and grabbed some ibuprofen. He took a pill, washing it down with some soda before putting the bottle back in the cabinet, closing it shut. He took his soda, dragging his feet back to his room. He set his soda on his nightstand.

Meanwhile...

"Awh, gee... Sprout, Shrimpo looked so... sad!" Cosmo whined, looking at the hallway pitifully. "So?" Sprout huffed, stubborn. "So? Sprout, Shrimpo is still one of us! A toon! He may be rude, sure, but that doesn't mean acting like him." Comso scolded, slightly disappointed in his best friend. "I heard someone sad?" Goob popped out of nowhere, his hands dragging behind him. "Oh, Goob! Thank goodness. Yeah, Shrimpo's looked so... down lately. He's been... calm? This isn't like the shrimp we know. Somethings off... can you go cheek on him?" Cosmo turned around to talk to Goob, looking at him with his eyes filled with concern. "Oh... I don't know... he says he hates hugs!" Goob frowned, his cheeks puffing. "Awh, come onnn! Who can resist your little face?" Cosmo smiled, stretching Goob's cheeks out a bit, which made the fluffy craft giggle. "Hehe! Yeah... alright! I'll give it a shot!" Goob grinned, speed walking over to the rage room. Comso sighed in relief. "Hopefully, this'll work." Cosmo looked at Sprout with hope and a small sad smile. Sprout looked at his best friend with a sigh, giving the roll a small smile. "Me too, buddy... me too."

Goob walked over, knocking on the shrimps door. "Shrimpo? Shhhrrrrimppppoooo! It's me! Goob!!" Goob smiled as he called out to the rage stack. The door creaked open. "What ya want, fool?" "I wanna cheer you up? Pretty please? Can we talk?" ...Silence for a nice minute. "...Shrim--" "Fine. Just don't knock anything over with your fucking arms." Shrimpo growled, closing and unlocking the door. Goob chuckled nervously, sloppily moving his hand to his left arm as he walked in. He shut the door behind him and looked at the radioactive bomb. "Hey..." Goob waddled over, sitting next to him. Shrimpo just lied down, his head on his pillow as he crossed his arms. Goob frowned, placing his red hand on the shrimps shoulder. "...Wanna talk about it?" Shrimpo shook his head no. Goob hummed in thought. "Well, then, how am I supposed to help?" "You're the clingy one... you figure it out." Shrimpo replied sassily. Goob sighed, thinking. "Hmph... well, there's always ways to make others feel better! But, I like one in particular!" Before Shrimpo could even let out another breath, he got pulled into a hug on the crafts lap, his back up to the floof chest. "...What are you doing? You know I hate hugs." Goob giggled. "I know, you yelled it at me, many times, friend." Goob smiled. "...Friend?" "Yeah! Friend! Friends help each other, y'know." Shrimpo looked down and hummed. But, he was snapped out of his thoughts when Goob's extended arm-wire things looped around him. Shrimpo struggled but got his arms out. "Ugh! What are you doing?!" "Cheering you up!" Before he knew it, he felt two hands squeeze his sides.

"Pfft--! H-Hehehehey!" Shrimpo giggled out of surprise, curling up slightly. "Aww, this is the first time I've heard you laugh!" Goob cooed with a giggle. "Ahand the o-ohonly time! Gehehehehehee-- staaahahap!" "Definitely not the only time, goofball!" Goob giggled, his floof brushing against Shrimpo's back. "EEP-! Nahaho! Gohohohoob!!" Shrimpo squealed, now kicking his legs a bit. "Yes, silly? I'm just making you feel better!" "Nahahat wohohohohorking!" "Oh, I think it is!" Goob giggled, his hand slithering down to squeeze Shrimpo's knees. "ACK-- G-GoooHOHOHOHOHOooob!!" Shrimpo covered his face, curling his legs up, wiggling his feet up and down. "That's my name, don't wear it out!" Goob joked, squeezing Shrimpo's belly with one hand and his knees with the other. "GoHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOB!! STAAAHAHAHAHAP!!" Shrimpo snorted and squeaked once Goob's hand slid down to the Shrimps waist "Oooh! Did I find a spot? Did I find a spot?!" Goob teased in a high-pitched baby voice, making the fireball unbelievably flustered. "D-DOOOOHOHOHOHON'T-- OH FUHUHUHUHUCK!!" Shrimpo slammed his eyes shut, both legs kicking now. Too bad he couldn't exactly move. Damn extend-able long arms. "What foul language!" Goob chuckled, moving one of his hands up to the firecrackers underarms. "NAHAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE!!" Shrimpo slammed his arms down to his sides. "Awww, look at your blushy face!~" "I HAHAHAHAHAHAHATE THIS!!" "You hate everything..." Shrimpo just cackled, shaking his head. "Hmm.. I know Finn said this could be a bad spot--" Goob reached his free hand up to Shrimpo's tail (fin... thing? Yk, the thing on his head) and he SCREAMED. "NAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!! WAHAHAHAHAIT!!-- GOOB!- GOOOOHOHOHOHOB!!" Shrimpo had tears in his eyes, slightly squirming now. "Goodness me! Such a ticklish fella!" Goob giggled. "PLEHEHEHEASE!- I CAHAHA-- I CAAAHAHAHAHAHAN'T!! STAHAHAHAHAP!!" Shrimpo pleaded, shaking his head rapidly as some tears ran down his face. "Feel better?" "YEHEHEHEHES-- SO- SOHOHOHOHO FILLED WITH JOHOHOHOHOHOY!!" Goob snickered. "Sarcastic..." He mumbled before stopping, still holding the shrimp in a hug. "Haah-... aaahaha..." Shrimpo huffed and panted. "The fuhuck?.." Shrimpo snorted, wiping his tears away. "Tired?" "Kihinda..." Goob smiled and rested Shrimpo down. "You're still my friend, y'know, I wasn't just saying that." Goob pulled his arms back in place. Shrimpo stayed silent for a minute before scoffing. "Whatever..."

The Next Morning...

Shrimpo walked in the kitchen with a yawn, rubbing his eye. Goob was talking with Scraps before noticing the angry ball of fire. "Shrimpo!" Goob extended his arms, grabbing Shrimpo and pulling him into a hug. "AH-! Hey! What gives?! I told you I hate your hugs!!" Shrimpo snapped out, trying but failing to get out of the grip. Goob chuckled. "You don't." Shrimpo paused for a minute before slumping his shoulders. "Shut up..."

♡End♡

#tickle #fanfic #tickle fic #dandy's world #dandy's world tickles #inspired #dandys world shrimpo #shrimpo angst #dandys world goob #shrimpo x goob #angryhugs #platonic #lee!shrimpo #ticklish!shrimpo #ler!goob

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loopy777 · 2 days ago

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What do you think about the take that maiko was written to show that they were dysfunctional and shouldn't be together but the writers made them endgame in the last minute to tidy things up?

I think it's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard. But you were probably expecting that. XD

Let's prove it mathematically. Toph is a main protagonist. Toph has a romance teased with Sokka that doesn't go anywhere. Toph also gets a lesser romantic tease with Zuko. Toph doesn't get an endgame romance. If the storytellers cared about pairing people off for "tidiness," then how could they leave one of the main protagonists single after establishing two different crushes for her? If Zuko needs a romance for "tidiness," why wasn't he paired with Toph? QED.

But that's not as much fun as talking about Maiko. So let's trace the arc and see if it actually looks like a dysfunctional dynamic turned into a positive romance at the last minute.

The only place where Maiko seems even a little dysfunction in The Beach; otherwise, they're almost always getting along and being affectionate with each other and Zuko is always smiling in Mai's presence unless he's thinking about his father or Azula is present and actively trying to ruin their fun. And The Beach portrays the root of their problems being Zuko's self-loathing, not any problem with each other. Sure, Zuko talks about Mai being a "big blah," but he also insults Ty Lee there for walking on her hands, so I think he's just cranky and picking on the girls' most obvious characteristics because he's a bully and misogynist. Once he admits to being angry at himself, he's able to get along with everyone again, especially with Mai and including some characteristically physical affection.

So if the intention was for them to be dysfunctional, that's a huge writing failure. It's not present in the story, which is especially odd if that was the real intention and the Happily Ever After was a last-minute whim. We can't even say that Mai was a bad influence on Zuko, as she literally never influences him in any way at any point in their relationship -- except for one, which will discuss in a moment -- merely supporting whatever it is he thinks he wants at any given second.

And that one moment of influence Mai has? She's part of the group encouraging Zuko to be honest with himself about the source of his anger. And I'm having a hard time figuring out how that's toxic.

As I like to say, if someone is arguing that some other ship would have been written better than Maiko, then no, it wouldn't have been. It would have been written by the same people who are terrible romance storytellers no matter what ship we're talking about. But by all means, if militant Zutarians want their ship written by the geniuses behind Makorra and/or Gene Yang, I think their cluelessness is self-evident and it would be impolite to point out how stupid they are.

Anyway, back to the other half of the allegations, that Maiko happened by accident at the last minute to make things "tidy" even though everyone's story arcs were planned in advance of the season's production.

(I swear, some of these fans act like high-quality animation is the same thing as a low-budget live-action scifi show filmed in chronological order by a cast of drug-addicted actors trapped in Toronto. )

The ending of The Boiling Rock where Mai saves Zuko is a load-bearing plot point. The entire second half of that two-parter is made to build up to it, with scenes between Mai and Zuko showing their continued affection for each other and eroding Mai's commitment to the Fire Nation. Then she betrays the Fire Nation, accomplishing her switch to being a Good Guy, and she gets the confrontation with Azula which starts off the absolutely critical Azula Loses Control character arc which directly leads to her defeat.

And that arc is present in all Azula's appearances after Mai's betrayal. She can't stand on her own when she orders Mai and Ty Lee locked up, the first sign of her waning sense of control. Her voice is raw and emotional when she attacks Zuko at the Western Air Temple, and there's the way she has to unpin her hair to save her own life in a series where the hairdos are highly symbolic. Then in the finale, she explodes at Ozai, her godlike father figure, about her treatment. Before her fight with Zuko, spends an entire episode being paranoid and hallucinatory. All of that is caused by Mai.

If Mai wasn't meant to become a Good Guy, where does Azula's arc come from? If Azula wasn't meant to fall apart like that, where else is her character supposed to be properly explored? Was the entire tone of Zuko's confrontation with his sister supposed to be completely different, and not a contrast in their states of mind that conclusively proves the self-destructive nature of Ozai's Fire Nation culture? The whole back-half of the third season for the Fire Nation characters hinges entirely on Mai's grand romantic gesture of saving Zuko.

If the storytellers planned to do all that, then didn't intend for Mai and Zuko to have a triumphant reunion, I don't know how they can consider themselves professionals.

Unless the theory is that it would have been easier to just stick Ty Lee in Mai's place? But then I don't think Zuko's interactions with Ty Lee were any less toxic, so we're still left lopsided there.

I dunno, I'm a bit freaked out at the lengths some people will go to pretend that the Maiko endgame wasn't a regular part of the story. Do they know it's been 17 years since that first aired?

#anonymous #maiko #zumai #book fire

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twiceeshy · 2 days ago

Text

3% [Chapter 1/?]

Read and view tags on ao3.

Summary: Three percent was the chance that suppressants would fail to protect from pregnancy, if a fertile Omega had sex with an Alpha during heat. It was non-negligible, but low.

E, rosquez, 6.7k words.

Marc held a baby in his arms. Nurses bustled around to make sure everything was alright, but he knew he didn't have to worry. She was tiny and pink. He loved her, he realised, stunned.

He was, perhaps, blessed that a pandemic had befallen them so he could have her safely. His abnominal muscles hid the bump for months. In another world he might have trained and crashed multiple times out of complete ignorance and lost her. Would he be happier that way? It wasn't worth thinking about, and nobody would ever hear about these doubts except his brother.

Still, he had considered the prospect of not keeping her seriously before making a choice, knowing what a commitment it would be.

Deep his heart, as much as he fretted and feared and did not actually want to do this at all, he couldn't bring himself to lift a finger to do anything else. Not when the child would be a combination of himself and someone he once loved. He would never have this chance again.

When a surreal health crisis laid their season's schedule to waste, he was vindicated. All the stars aligned for him to commit to this tough choice instead of the other.

"I think she'll look like you," Alex said cheerfully, as though he hadn't been awake through the night. Labour lasted thirteen hours.

Marc thought that Alex made good company in lieu of a husband. In fact, Marc was fairly certain he would have kept his brother and kicked the actual father of his child out of the room about five minutes into delivery, if he happened to be around. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone else watching through this specific vulnerability, which was why he made his parents stay at home. He was filled with a complicated mixture of love and loathing that would be horribly unpalatable to anyone else.

Marc had squeezed his brother's hand to bits and tried not to make noise even though it hurt. Alex made no complaint either. Marc probably played too heavy a hand in raising him, but Alex turned out perfect so it was hard to feel guilty.

He was going to be the best uncle in the world. And Marc was determined to be a good mother.

He held her out to Alex, who took her carefully. She was tiny. If she was anything like him, she would be tiny for a long time. He wondered if he could make her take more after him out of sheer willpower.

"Do you think she looks like a Laia?" Marc asked. Laia Marquez Alenta. He'd drawn the name from a list of popular Catalan baby names, and still thought it fit. He enjoyed having the most common name for decades running, and there was an edge of rebellion in naming her as Catalan as possible. Her name carried ties to home, and the freedom to shape her own destiny.

Alex smiled at her with the warm fondness. "She looks like whatever you want."

Marc held his brother's arm appreciatively. For the millionth time since he found out about his pregnancy, he was unspeakably grateful for his brother. His family's love was a panacea to his unquantifiable amount of despair, as his body stretched and his toes disappeared from view. He used to easily bend down and touch the floor with the palms of his hands. He would get back there. He would get back on a bike too - soon, maybe even tomorrow - and he would return to winning again.

A few short moments later, a nurse took Laia away to measure her height. Something animal and new surged within him. He wanted her back, he didn't want her to smell like someone else. He controlled himself.

Alex dabbed stray tears from Marc's eyes with his sleeve. He hadn't realised he had been crying. His head was a mess.

"Congratulations," Alex said.

Marc gave him a wobbly smile. He felt unfit and horrible, and he regretted taking a break from his career from every fibre of his being now that the deed was done. But he'd done it, he was a mother now.

A thousand or so kilometres away, the paddock was just over a week away from their second race in Jerez.

Marc could pin down the day of Laia's conception to precision: 17 November 2019, when he had capped off a year of glory with a win.

He had been on the verge of a heat. It didn't matter - he'd raced through them before. When riders had their heads covered by helmets, scents were scarcely a distraction to everyone else. The only inconvenience was for himself, because his body temperature felt hotter and his stomach was prone to cramping, so he needed to ensure he had a different balance of water and electrolytes to keep the averse effects at bay.

It should have been a handicap for everyone else, and yet, he won with some margin. He simultaneously felt invincible and mortal, battered by the chronic weight of past and present injuries magnified by his heat. It was a terrible, foreboding mixture.

He was on top of the world. He was boiling alive in his own sweat and leathers.

He dragged himself to the afterparty anyway. His head was killing him. No matter how much water he drank, he couldn't shake off the dehydration. Once the adrenaline of the race had worn off, his dislocated shoulder throbbed painfully. He needed surgery soon to fix that again, as his arm felt to be one tough whack away from falling off.

After an hour, he bowed out. There were tests to be done in two days. It was early still, but there wasn't any reason to torture himself when his heat was surely already setting in. He only hoped he'd be able to get over the worst of it the next day and be fit for the tests. He couldn't imagine being off suppressants and having to suffer through three-day, full blown heats. This was bad enough.

He made it to his motorhome somehow. While trudging there, he caught a whiff of something forbidden through an open window. Despite his exhaustion, he ran.

During his two and a half years with Valentino, their heats and ruts had never coincided. Although couples' cycles tended to sync up with greater proximity, they hadn't been together long or frequently enough. And well, "couple" was a generous term to describe what they were.

He'd only been through two of Valentino's ruts before. Marc shared only one heat with him. Scheduling didn't permit anything else. They'd both been out of their minds for all three of those occasions.

Marc wasn't usually stupid in heat when he was alone. Impulsive and slow perhaps, but nothing like the mewling, horny mess he'd been reduced to during that one heat after his home race. He and Vale had been one-two on the podium in Montmelo, and he felt top of the world, untouchable. Hours later he was knocking on Valentino's door with his brain fried. There had been an embarrassing amount of whining involved while Valentino teased him. The memory was precious. He had been trusting and vulnerable then, but floating from his winning streak (how many in a row had it been by that time? Six or seven? He wasn't even done yet), and Valentino had taken care of him kindly. He couldn't believe his hero would take the time to do this for him. It had been so good, beyond a dream.

In contrast, ruts were bordered on violent. Valentino was brutal. He'd barely been able to speak before the knot formed, and when he was that way, it was impossible to reach him. Marc silently let him, let him, let him, because he was used to pain and he could cope with it, could be the perfect Omega if he needed, so what if it was too intense?

He was bruised by the end of it all, his limbs and his back and surely his insides, not wet or stretched enough to comfortably grip a knot in absence of a heat. These were the only times Valenino had ever offered him apologies, but he didn't need them. He had been kissed gently in compensation when Valentino came down, once the knot was in place, and he'd felt loved. Beautiful, brave, he remembered, and a soft kiss to his sweat-damp eyelid. Kisses all over his face until his cheeks were warm. He kept the compliments close to his chest.

This time, his body would be able to take it. Years ago, the thought of a cycle that finally synced up would have excited him. Now he hid and shut the door behind him. He wished again that Alex was around to stop the inevitable from happening. He hoped that Valentino was as desperate for self-control as he was, because this couldn't happen.

But even while he thought that, he knew it was not to be. He was on a knife's edge himself, and Omegas in sport were accustomed to containing their baser tendencies, both with their minds and medical interference. Alphas meanwhile, were encouraged to let it out, to be possessive and aggressive and greedy. It was good for the competitive spirit.

If Valentino smelled him at all, he'd be there soon. The rare sight of him at his best and his worst, fully unrestrained. Marc feared and yearned, and knew it was not to be denied.

Then came a knock on the door. Marc watched the knob twist from his vantage point in his own sitting area, unmoving. He could smell it through the gaps around the door - his Alpha, however long ago it may have been, and the other half of a mating bond that was broken before it could take hold.

He's should have thought to lock himself in. But he had gone stupid, and subconsciously he didn't want to spend another heat alone. He got to his feet to rush over and twist the lock shut. It was too late.

Valentino let himself in. The full brunt of his scent in rut punched Marc up the nose. It was pungent and human, mixed in with sweat. He shouldn't have been searching for it, inhaling it like he needed it. If he had clarity of mind, he would find that the scent was not pleasant, and he wouldn't want it all over him like a perfume. This wasn't the protective, sweet mating scent it once was.

But it was Valentino, and his body reacted. His hole clenched around nothing. He was wet already, and so hot it was frightening.

His eyes traced over the other man, tall and older and thin. Marc could take him in a strength fight, he knew, but there was no fight to be had. The heat wanted to be sated.

He refused to beg for it. Self-control was a deep well he could draw from even when surrender was nigh.

"Maybe you should go," he suggested quietly, the last barrier he was able to erect between them. It was flimsy, so Valentino acted as though he never heard it. It hurt Marc as much to voice it out as much as it stung to be ignored.

Valentino came to him (he was so fast - how was he so fast? How was it fair that ruts did this and heats made Marc dull), held his face, gripped his jaw, kissed him. Marc let it happen, fists clenched by his sides, teeth biting into the flesh of his own lower lip to keep the silence. The heat was unbearable. His palms were sweaty and searing in his own grip. Even the soles of his feet were burning.

He could tell that his lack of reaction frustrated Valentino, who made a noise of annoyance and maneuvered them onto the small sofa. His weight sank above Marc's, hot and heavy. He had sweat gathering on his temples and his nose.

In heat induced haze, Marc could still appreciate him. His lovely curls, lines on his face that showed his good humour, and his intense, light eyes. Marc swallowed a whine as Valentino clawed at the fastenings of his jeans, and felt his eyes flutter shut.

He knew he was wet. When Valentino tugged his jeans and his briefs down, he couldn't open his eyes out of shame. He had never felt shame over what was natural before, but his scent was overpowering, and unlike Valetino's it was still sweet. This was an admission he didn't want to give. The saving grace was that Valentino was too far gone to notice, lost in rut and years of anger.

Valentino didn't take the time to undress Marc or himself fully. Marc had his shirt and shoes still on (Alex would laugh so much about having shoes on during sex, he realised hysterically), and the jeans that pooled around his feet were too tight for him to move comfortably. Kicking in the air, he shucked them off - shoes, jeans, socks that caught on the rest - as Valentino worked on his own clothes.

It was easy for him. He was in an tracksuit with yellow stripes. Wildly, Marc wondered why he wanted him so much. But he did.

The thought crossed his mind that he really should have found some way to fuck Vale when he won in Misano back in September, so he wouldn't be in this situation. He had made it halfway to Vale's box in his unzipped leathers and his heat dildo in a bag before he caught himself acting like a prowling animal and turned back. He had been driven by the taste of victory on Vale's soil.

It would have made everything between them irrevocably worse. He should have done it anyway to gain a mental edge over this. Marc had the most unbearable urge to top that day and he was crystal clear that he would have succeeded, novice or not.

He would torture Vale one day. When he wasn't weak and pathetic in heat, he'd show Vale what it felt like to be held out on. He'd ruin him, he'd never let him come. He'd show him why it was so good, why Marc still waited and waited for him, and why Vale would never have this with anybody else. Anger and want mingled in a primitive corner of his brain.

Then Valentino freed his cock, and he crowded himself on Marc, and the complicated regrets flatlined temporarily. The heat demanded submission.

It was already happening. He should just enjoy it, given in to nature.

He couldn't.

He was supple, but even he found that the cramped sofa was less comfortable than the bed he was accustomed to. He didn't suggest to move.

Valentino pushed him down, so Marc's spine was curved awkwardly in the crook between the seat and backrest. He pulled Marc's legs apart and folded them back such that his knees were against his shoulders. Marc was flexible so it didn't hurt, but he didn't like it.

He was so wet, almost dripping before Valentino' eyes. There was no way he could sit back and allow this to happen. To do so would be pathetic, and Marc had never been pathetic.

He needed control. It was always certain that the person who kept their wits better had control if they played it right. It would be marginal victory in a war of attrition, but he was good at holding on to the winning edge in those.

Valentino held his cock and it looked like a fucking weapon. The lust of a rut was something to behold. His cock was swelling, not yet a knot, but red and painful.

Marc wanted it.

He didn't want it at all.

He twisted around to lie down across both seats. If there was a damn cushion somewhere so he could rest his head, he would be better off. It didn't matter - there was no position he couldn't fold himself into as needed.

With one swift movement, he kicked his legs up and bent wound his thighs around Valentino's shoulders, them forced him down with his strength. The Marc of 2014 would never have done this, but he was no longer so willing to roll over. Valentino was on his knees, head in proximity of Marc's weeping hole. It was a completely novel position to both of them. A smirk tugged the corner of Marc's lip. Surely Valentino would come to his senses soon and he would fight back, but by then he would realise that he had lost himself to his rut far more completely than Marc had allowed his heat to control him.

He still wanted Valentino to fuck him, knot him, have them fused at the front for hours, show them off to every other Omega who had stolen Valentino's ruts from him, scratch his fucking name bloody into Valentino's back so that Vale could feel how much he cared.

Time slowed down to molasses, which was a strange contrast to the acrid desperation in the air. Marc felt that he had a brief moment of time in control. It was like being on a bike, lining up a clever overtake while slowing down from 350 kilometres an hour. There was nobody better than him at this.

Marc quicky pushed himself up on his elbows so he could lean forward and watch. He swiped two fingers through his slick and touched them to the tip of his tongue, just to make sure that it was the same saccharine taste, sweet with affection, that Valentino used to go crazy for.

It was. Marc had always known that deep inside, he did not change easily.

Then he shoved his fingers into Valentino's mouth to remind him of the taste, and laid back to reap the benefits as Valentino attacked his hole with carnal hunger. His nose brushed against the hairless expanse of Marc's skin, his warm breath lit up every one of Marc's nerve endings. He pinched Marc's swollen, traitorous clit. Marc panted, his eyes fluttered shut, on the tenuous edge of control as Valentino stretched him out with his tongue, greedy for slick. Good, stay there, do it properly. Marc wouldn't hurt more, not today.

Marc moved a hand to the back of Valentino's head to hold him there, but it was slapped away with an impatient sound. He fisted his hands into his own shirt, grasping for purchase.

"Va-le," the name snuck itself out of his mouth without his permission.

His voice brought Valentino back to brief lucidity.

"You're the fucking devil," he said hoarsely, and it might have been true, but the words cut like a physical weapon. His lips were coated in a shiny sheen, and his hair was messy and sweat-damp. He looked throughly debauched. He would never have wanted this.

Marc should have defended himself. He could only whine and bring his thighs closer so Valentino would shut up with his horrible words and continue to stretch him out.

Valentino pulled himself free, scissored Marc's hole roughly with two fingers, and - too quickly for Marc's heat-weakened self to resist, he hauled himself up and sank his growing knot into Marc's swollen heat.

Marc felt tears well in his eyes and hated himself for it. It wasn't the pain, he knew pain like an old friend. It was the intensity of being fucked and being hated.

Under the heat of Valentino's sweaty, heavy body, Marc refused to buckle. He met every movement, grind for grind. He refused to look away. He stared without blinking. Let Valentino see him suffer. Let Valentino see him detach himself from this. Maybe Valentino would understand him better if Marc could haunt him in return for all of their past years.

He controlled his expression into something stoic and defiant. It was all wrong, so let it be obvious. Let him maintain his dignity when all other control was stripped from him. Let him come out on top.

The knot, heavy between his legs, pushed obtrusively into his slick cunt. There was no point in fighting it, as it would only hurt more. This was like crashing - if you tensed yourself defensively, you would die. If you accepted it and let the momentum take you, you might live.

He felt his slick change in consistency, turning grippy. He hated the body chemistry of an Omega in heat. Hated that when the knotting was supposed to take place, his body acted against him. This was new to him, with the heat and rut cycles syncing up.

Valentino continued to fuck him clumsily, his thickening knot going through the resistance of Marc's body, piercing back inside over and over again, until Marc locked him in for good, gripping the knot in a vice, the intrusion almost the size of a fist. They came in tandem, and while light behind his eyelids stole Marc's consciousness for a moment.

He was aware again shortly, and all of a sudden, the sound of their breathing was too loud. Their faces were too close.

The magnitude of how awkward the situation was revealed itself. They couldn't even run, locked into each other as they were. His cunt ached dully. His clit was oversensitive and wanted for attention it wouldn't receive. His scenting gland throbbed, but he was unmated. Marc felt cold, despite the heat they shared. He didn't feel beautiful or brave today, and his body felt worn.

His shoulder was crying for mercy, trapped between Valentino's weight and a sofa that didn't provide enough support. He wanted Valentino to flip them over, but he refused to ask. Could Valentino not smell that he was distressed? Was he distressed? Or was it that he had been distressed from the start, so Valentino couldn't tell the difference? Normally, he was at least sensitive to Marc's pain. It was only Marc's head that he wanted to mess around with.

What had they done? Valentino didn't even want him anymore. Marc didn't have to stop him from making the mating bite this time, as he had every time prior. The desire had evaporated.

Valentino spoke first. "We didn't use a condom," he said.

The world fell away beneath Marc. He gathered himself in an instance, anxiously. "I'm on suppressants. Three percent," he said, repeating an oft-mentioned statistic. Three percent was the chance that suppressants would fail to protect from pregnancy, if a fertile Omega had sex with an Alpha during a heat. It was non-negligable, but low.

Valentino accepted this with a nod. He looked tired, each of the fourteen years between them highlighted vividly. So unhappy was the occasion, so spent was his body, that Marc almost felt as though he was guilty of something. But of course, he was not.

They didn't attempt to converse. Marc remembered when Vale used to talk, and make Marc laugh through the tears.

The moment Valentino's knot had decreased enough in size, he wrenched himself out and put on his ugly trackpants. Marc gasped and clenched over nothing, but all he saw was the sight of Valentino's tense back as he took brisk strides away. Valentino let the door shut with a violent slam. Marc didn't call out for him.

Valentino was still in rut, despite the lull. Alphas in sports didn't take suppressants. Marc's heat had broken but where was Valentino going? Who was he going to? Marc couldn't help but wonder, thoughts spiralling into useless directions.

He tried so hard, but he didn't think he won this round.

Empty and hopeless, Marc dressed himself. He ignored the mess of fluids collecting inside his briefs. As a distraction, he made himself clean the sofa. The smell of antiseptic drove his heightened senses crazy.

It didn't matter. Alex and his father knew the moment they returned home. An incompatible mating scent was impossible to hide.

Marc hadn't even considered the possibility of pregnancy for more than a second. He cleaned himself out throughly with his fingers in the shower, unable to tolerate the thought of the remnants of Valentino in him. It was easy, he was sore but he was was still loose. That should have been the end of it.

The cruel irony was that Marc had highly specific plans for becoming a parent before any of this happened. He always assumed that he would become one in the future because he liked children and they liked him, and he was willing to temporarily give up his athletic body for that pursuit. However, the assumption also caveated that it would be a post-retirement affair.

He intended to collect all the accolades humanly possible first, then he would retire as late as he could. He wanted to be racing deep into his thirties, maybe even his forties. It was the most passionate love of his life, which he would cling to with bloodied fingertips until he couldn't. He gave his childhood and his life to it, so it needed to give back to him. He wanted to keep having fun and winning.

Somewhere in the middle of this illustrious career, maybe when he was in his early thirties, he would have enough wisdom to pick a good person and fall slowly in love. He knew, after years without Valentino, that it would not be him. A part of Marc would always feel affection for the Alpha that first laid claim to him, but he trusted that his heart was big enough to love again. He just needed more time to get over the hurt. Besides, Valentino would be far too old to become a new parent by the time Marc was ready.

Ideally Marc would find a gentle person who was proud of his accomplishments, and patient enough to wait for him to finish earning them. Marc wouldn't date a competitor - their ego would protest, and he understood completely. He couldn't stomach dating someone who made a habit of beating him either, when he eventually grew too old to be competitive. He would rather retire than face that reality, and maybe one day when he started to decline, he'd consider his fertility when he made his decision to leave. He would finally get to experience a three-day heat and carry a baby for the nice person he was going to find. Maybe he would be with a nice girl, for a change, and his mother would enjoy her company. His worry used to be whether he could catch this window in time.

He wanted someone good for him, who he could be good to in return. He'd always been capable of being generous and tender when he loved. It was just on track that he couldn't, which was why it was inadvisable to start a family with a rival. As a younger person, he lacked this foresight.

He knew that there had to be someone else out there for him who was perfect, and would want to be out in the open with him, cheering him on and waiting patiently for Marc's career to run its course. When he was done, they could be married, and his partner would follow Marc back to Cervera to have a good life together.

In the meantime, Marc hadn't been in a hurry. He was too young for any of this.

Two days after Laia's birth, Alex drove them home.

He wasn't in the most talkative mood. They both were tired, having squeezed onto Marc's bed to sleep while he was warded. Marc didn't care about the rules, he paid for a private room and his brother wasn't going to sleep in a chair while putting aside his life and his career to babysit him.

They then faced the conundrum of trying not to wake a newborn who only knew how to communicate by crying. The easiest ceasefire seemed to be staying silent.

Marc was free from holding her because she had to go into an infant carrier at the back, but he was fidgety. If he had to deal with awkwardness from the only person he had never been awkward with because of the baby, he was going to do something unpleasant.

Thankfully, Alex always knew what to do. "Open the glove compartment," he said, apropos of nothing.

Marc turned to him, puzzled. "Why?"

"Just open it," Alex said, so Marc did.

He found a folded paper bag, and pulled it out. It contained something soft. He emptied the contents onto his lap.

There was a soft onesie that looked like a bee, and a red ant plushie that was cuter than any insect had a right to be.

"I thought you wouldn't want her to be an ant, but she can hold you," Alex explained.

Marc looked down at the items wordlessly. He hadn't thought so far about what a baby girl would like. He was busy thinking about what she would need, and placing an insane number of online orders for baby things, thanks to the fucking pandemic. He had twenty milk bottles nozzles stockpiled now.

Alex smiled softly. "She'll be a bee if she's like you. Noisy."

"Of course she'll be like me," Marc said without really thinking. He fidgeted with one of the ant's fluffy red legs. It was soft, and felt more expensive than any of the toys they used to share. Or maybe this was what new toys felt like.

"She's very quiet now," Marc remarked, registering what Alex said.

"I think she likes the engine sound," Alex said.

Marc did too. A quiet hum. It had nothing on a bike of course, but it was calming. A balm of steady sound to keep the thoughts from crowding his mind.

He felt a longing that he blamed on hormones. An Omega on his lonesome, left to raise a child on his own, could only feel small and tragic. His chemistry wanted him to cower at the altar of his Alpha and lure him back so his baby would be well cared for. His mind tempted him with the echoes of strong hands against his thigh, fingertips pressing confidently under his briefs, whispers of reassuring warmth against his body that he no longer had access to, and no longer truly wanted.

Funny how it used to feel as though they had so much, when they always had so little. Stolen moments between commitments and no plans for their future.

It was sacrilegious to yearn for any of that in the vicinity of Alex, given that Alex hated Valentino with a cold fury. He harboured all the difficult feelings that Marc couldn't convince himself to sustain. All of that emotional labour, for Marc's sake. He was much more important to Marc than Valentino could ever hope to be, even if Valentino came to his senses and delivered himself with his metaphorical tail between his legs. And he wouldn't, so.

He centred himself on the sound of the engine humming. It was like what he was taught to do when his heats overwhelmed: focus on the other senses. What did he see? What did he smell? The soft brush of his fuzzy shirt against his bare skin. A plush ant in his hand. Sunlight in his eyes. The clean scent of their air freshener. Instrumental music in the background for the baby's sake, mingling harmously with the engine. Steady. He grounded himself.

Maybe he was being childish, but he placed the ant on Alex's hand that was holding the gear shift, then made it do a few hops to crawl up his arm. He just liked the contact. The ant was soft.

Alex laughed softly. "What is this, Marc?"

"We have a baby, you have to get used to it," Marc said loftily.

"She can't be worse than you," Alex said.

Marc turned his head to watch his daughter for several moments. She was too special to be worse than anyone. The blood of seventeen combined championships ran in her veins - which wasn't worth everything obviously, but it was worth something. And she carried a bit of the the other people he loved too; shared the encoding of his parents and his brother and his grandparents before them.

He wondered what Valentino would think of her. Marc was going to be the one who would take care of her all her life - clearly - but he wondered if Valentino could find it within himself to love her, even though she was Marc's. He wanted a family once, with a long-time girlfriend even before Marc came into the picture. Then with Marc, they never had a serious conversation about it. It was obvious that it was impossible, until it wasn't.

Laia was Valentino's family too, and Marc supposed that Valentino could love her.

He would love this girl. Marc just needed to work harder to make it happen. Valentino was constants and variables in an unpredictable fashion, except when it came to the people he called his. He didn't let them go.

"Are you thinking about him?" Alex asked plainly.

"Thinking about how to tell him," Marc lied, leaving out his doubts. It wasn't a complete lie. He now was thinking about how to tell Valentino. "I don't know what to say. I think I'll just send him a picture."

He decided to do just that during the car ride. The message was a simple photo of their daughter without a caption, reviving a chat that had been dead for two months. He picked the best photo, where she was sound asleep, dressed in baby blue and sweet little mittens.

Before that, there were only short exchanges. "Are you healthy?" from Valentino, who thought of him at two in the morning.

"Yes, don't worry," from Marc, who never knew what to say anymore, and always hated texting anyway.

Months before that-

"I'm pregnant and I'm keeping it. You don't have to do anything. You can't stop me." Followed by five missed calls, and a voice recording that Marc downloaded and replayed over and over again when he could bear to.

Every message mattered so much, and this one the most of all. Marc watched the file upload, and a single tick appeared in the corner. A second tick didn't show up. Maybe Valentino was busy.

When Alex pulled into their driveway, Marc finally locked his screen.

Marc's mother, Roser, cried when he came home. They were happy tears, she said.

She hugged him gently, the baby in his arms between them.

"I'm so lucky," she said, stepping away to wipe her eyes with a tissue. "I lived to be a grandmother."

"Of course you were going to be a grandmother," Alex said from behind Marc, carrying both their overnight bags. "Unless you thought none of us were going to have kids? I understand thinking that about Marc, but I always wanted a family."

"And where are your kids?" Marc scoffed. "All talk and no results."

Roser laughed wetly. "Boys, not everything is a competition."

Alex sighed with an air of long-suffering. "You tell him that."

"We know how Marc is," Roser said peaceably. She held out her hands towards the baby, who had alarmingly started to whine. Marc didn't know what he would do if she started full-on crying. This was why they had nurses at the hospital, even though he started freaking out inside whenever they took her away from him.

"She's beautiful. Let me see her," Roser said, and Marc was only too happy to comply. Laia was wailing before she left his arms.

Marc watched intently as his mother rocked his daughter gently from back and forth to calm her. He had so much to learn.

"She might just be hungry, darling," Roser said. "I made a nest for you on your bed. Why don't we take her there?"

She carried Laia for him, until Marc got into bed and she tucked the covers around him with one hand. It might have been approaching the height of summer but he didn't mind. Having parental care was nice.

They were her covers, he realised, and sank deeper into the scent of them. Her covers, and Alex's bolster, and his father's pillowcases that she must have driven over to retrieve for him. His parents had separated, but they made it as painless for their kids as they could, and Marc was always appreciative of it. His bed was a clutter of soft possessions of the people he loved.

He was surrounded by family. Family plus one more, who was experiencing the familiar walls of his bedroom for the first time. She would grow up around these scents, as he did. They had always been a comfort to him. What was familiar to him would become familiar to her, and she would feel the love of a Marquez Alenta through and through. It was a profound realisation.

Roser kissed his forehead and passed him his fussing daughter. "Shall I leave you two to it then?" she asked softly.

Marc nodded. He took his shirt off when his mother left, and held his daughter to his chest. She sucked on a puffy nipple, and he just-

He found it unsettling to be a food source. His body was made for different things; stalking his prey and hauling around a bucking beast of a bike more than twice his weight. He was horrifically far from his fighting physique. He didn't want to know how many kilograms of muscle he had to rebuild.

It hadn't fully sunk in yet that being a parent was a permanent state of affairs, that he would never not be a parent again. He kept realising the same thing, bit by bit.

He itched to check for Valentino's response, but he wasn't prepared to hear from him yet. He wasn't being a coward, so much as he didn't have the energy to spare.

It would have been nice for Valentino to like him enough to be here with him, maybe hold their child for him so Marc's wretched shoulder could take a break. Too much unnecessary risk to be under general anesthesia for non-emergency surgery, the doctors said. He'd pushed back his recovery by nine months. He would take even longer to be strong again.

He let the physicality of his exhaustion wash over him. He had known pain, but he had never been so tired before. The birth sapped his muscles and drained marrow from his bones. His insides felt out of place. His chest was sore. He wanted to go back to normal.

He closed his eyes and pretended to be twenty again, with these sensations. He would be happy, disbelieving, and in love, with the rest of his life ahead of him. And maybe he had a child who was an accident, maybe he felt too young to know what he was doing, but it was a happy accident. Back then, he would be young enough to be confused and cry about it, and seek refuge in his Alpha's loving arms. Vale would not let him think of himself as dairy cattle, he used to be able to say so many nice things.

Marc would have kept her even at twenty, he was certain of it. And maybe everything would have been different; maybe Vale would have kept him.

Since it made him feel better, in private, he gave in to this moment of weakness. He imagined that everything was perfect - that he had an Alpha who was out winning important races, but he would come home to be a family man. An Alpha who would never sleep with anyone else ever again, now that he was Marc's.

His daughter's small weight rested against his chest, swaddled in soft fabric. He exhaled slowly as she fed, trying to keep calm for her. He still felt like a cow - or no, perhaps a lion - caged and restrained in a place far too small for him. He still thought of the races and felt deep envy because there was no way for him to do what he was meant to do.

But this had to be worth it. If there was one seed of truth in to be harvested from his illusion, it was that his daughter had been made with his love.

#shu's fics #motogp rpf #rosquez #toxic omegaverse heats and hatred of pregnancy yay

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