#i like to imagine it was a concious decision of his

[monsterpib]

ROTB Wheeljack's dorky-ass glasses, reblog if you agree <3

[f1nalboys]

Reunion - Frank (Adam Barrett)

Frank x Fem!AFAB!Reader

hiiiii guys >:)) i promise ill get to requests soon!!!!! i just was mentally being attacked by this freak and Needed to write something super quick for him!!!! lmk if anything is ooc for him, i did my darndest writing for him!!!! i hope u all enjoy and lmk if youre interested in me writing more for him!!!! ALSO!! i know his real name is adam but to make it easier for myself i just called him frank in the fic, lmk if u guys prefer that or using his actual name 😝 <3

WORD COUNT: 3190

WARNINGS: nsfw, vampire!frank, human!reader, oral (afab + amab recieving,) choking (to the point of nearly passing out), biting, slight blood play, slightest bit of scent play??, degradation and praise, handcuffs, restraints, face fucking, multiple orgasms (afab,) creampie, this was meant to be short and then i was attacked...., pain play, mating press, implication of more sex, brief mentions/threats of being fucked until you pass out but you are fully concious the entire time, proofread but u guys know me by now

Frank tilts his head, tongue gliding across razor sharp teeth, a sinister grin gracing his normally soft features. You watch him from your spot on the bed, handcuffs tight around both your wrists and the bedframe. Tugging at the restraints, you wince as the cool metal digs into your warm flesh, squirming when you feel Frank's gaze finally land on you. 

“Keep struggling and you’re gonna make yourself bleed.” Frank grins, the bed shifting with his weight as he sits down beside you. He’s still fully clothed, a far cry from your bare skin still covered in healed-over bite marks and a layer of sweat. He leans in, hand trailing up your stomach lightly, too lightly to feel good, his nose brushing against your wrist. Frank breathes in deeply and you watch as his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck. Y’know what? Keep doing it. I want you to bleed.”

You whine, shaking your head. “Frank, c’mon, please!” 

“C’mon, please,” Frank mimics, fake pouting. You stay silent. When he was like this, all sharp teeth and sharp tongue, it was better to take whatever he was going to give you. A fight wouldn’t stop that. His hand trails up your chest, fingers calloused and rough, before landing on the base of your throat. His grip is loose, for now. “You always been this damn whiney or did this vampire shit give me better hearing?”

You swallow heavily. “I’m sorry.” You squeak and he grins, shaking his head. His hand grips your throat a bit tighter, feeling your pulse pumping heavily under his fingers. You watch his face as his eyes close. His breathing, which you learned he had to pretend to do after getting turned, matches your own. He stays like this a while, feeling your heart beat and the air fill and leave your lungs, feeling the humanity and life pump through your body on instinct. 

Frank didn’t miss many things about being human. He was stronger, faster, more agile, smarter, more ruthless, and so fucking powerful it could make your head spin. The things he didn't have anymore he could, for the most part, recreate it well enough. Breathing was now a conscious decision, one he only did when around other people. The sunlight thing didn’t bother him, only resulted in him moving to a city where the nightlife was more important than the daytime. The bloodlust was easy to satiate with his job. 

The one thing that he couldn't ignore or replicate, however, was a heartbeat. 

His chest felt empty, a dead thing lying there doing nothing but rotting away, maggots and fungi eating away at the carcass that was his humanity. On occasion, he’d find himself laying down, eyes closed, hand over his heart, imagining the thump of it, vibrating his chest, telling him and anyone who touched him that he was something, that he was alive. Your heartbeat was the closest thing to his own he could get to anymore. Frank loved to hear it quicken, skip a beat, change in its normal soothing rhythm, all due to him. Him and his hands, his tongue, his teeth, his words. 

Him.

Frank’s eyes open again, blue eyes dark, and he sighs, letting go of your throat. “Spread your legs.” His voice leaves no room for argument and you listen, your face growing hot from embarrassment at the wolf whistle he lets out. “So fuckin’ sexy, you know that? S’why I keep comin’ back.” He murmurs, leaning over and kissing you roughly. 

It’s too much, but everything Frank did was too much; he sprayed cologne until you felt like you were suffocating, he kissed you until your lips were bruised, he went down on you until you couldn't remember your name, he killed until he was covered in blood, he betrayed anyone and everyone who was dumb enough to trust him. Everyone but you. The only person he had stayed (mostly) gentle with, loyal too, was you.

Sure, he wouldn’t ever call himself your boyfriend, but he’d kill any guy you talked to and leave their decapitated head on your doorstep, fucking you into your mattress till you couldn't walk, and tell you that you were his. For now, that was enough.

Frank kisses down your neck, sharp teeth nicking at the thin flesh, a low moan being pulled from your lips. He loved the noises you made, could get drunk off them, could pull them from you for hours, and he has. “I need you,” you whimper as his mouth latches onto your nipple, his warm tongue flicking over the hardening nub. He hums around it but doesn’t stop. You can feel him relax over top of you, his free hand squeezing at your other tit, the days stress melting away. “Please?” 

“I’m takin’ my time.” Frank says, narrowed eyes flicking up to meet your own, but he lets go of your nipple, sliding down the length of the bed. “Bet you’re fuckin’ soaked though, aren’t you? That’s why you’re begging me.” You can’t deny it even if you wanted to because his hand is cupping your cunt, thick finger prodding at your slick opening to see, and you’re moaning so loud you know your throat is going to be sore tomorrow. “Fuck, you are. Guess it has been a bit, hasn’t it? Missed me or something, sweetheart?”

“Missed your cock.”

“Just my cock?” He asks, rubbing your wetness on your clit, a shiver going down your spine. “Not my fingers? The ones on your sloppy fuckin’ pussy right now, you didn’t miss them?” He asks, a smug fucking grin on his face, his fingers moving expertly against you. “Not my mouth? Bet your pussy misses my mouth. Shit, last time we fucked you didn’t seem very happy when I stopped tongue fucking you, so what changed, huh?”

His voice is sharp, working himself up the more he talks, his eyes focused on yours. He loves the microexpressions you make when you’re trying to hold back; the furrow of your eyebrows, the twitch of your lips, the flare of your nostrils. It's so incredibly human, so incredibly sexy, he wants nothing more than to bite into your neck and drain you, keep you inside him forever. But, he can’t. He’d miss you. Instead, he slips two fingers inside your hole, the stretch making you gasp, eyes widening, heartbeat picking up. “O-okay, okay…missed you.” 

“Yeah, you fuckin’ did.” He says, sliding down the rest of the bed, strong hands on your thighs, tongue swiping across your clit. Your legs try to close, your back arching off the soft mattress, the clang of the handcuffs bringing a smile to his face. Frank moans against your cunt, his fingers massaging your thighs as he enjoys himself. 

You want to touch him, to run your fingers through his hair and tug, bringing him closer, but these damn handcuffs keep digging into your wrists and it hurts and his fingers won’t stop pumping and scissoring inside your cunt and his lips are wrapping around your clit and he’s sucking and suddenly you can’t think of anything as you cum. Your legs shake and your eyes roll into the back of your head and all Frank can do is laugh against you as he draws it out. 

“S-stop, hang on,” you stutter after what felt like hours, your body going limp. Frank listens for once, moving his face off of your cunt but he leaves his fingers inside you, curling them just to pull a whine from your throat. You watch as he runs his tongue over his teeth and lips, tasting you, cracking his neck to stop himself from bending you in half and shoving his cock inside you. It’s been a while, almost two weeks, and he wants to savor this. Or, he wants to try. Self control has never been his strong suit. “Can you take the handcuffs off?” 

“They hurt?”

“A little.”

“Not yet.” Frank crawls over top of you, pressing his lips to yours. He’s gentle now, but you know he’s holding back. Despite how rough he gets with you, he’s always holding back from the primal urge to rip you to shreds. When he pulls away, he moves forwards even more, his knees just under your armpits. You stare up at him and he knows you’re nervous. His smile is gone, his eyes dark as he works on undoing his belt. “I’ll take ‘em off you real soon baby. I just need you to earn it first.” 

You swallow heavily, your heartbeat spiking as you watch him take his belt off. He tosses it to the side, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down to his thighs. His pants rub against your bare chest, scratching you, but you can’t be bothered to care, not with the way your mouth was filling with saliva at the sight of his bulge. Frank laughs as you try to sit back onto your elbows, an annoyed whine stuck in your throat, and he pulls his underwear down, sighing as his cock springs free.

His cock is hard and he strokes it slowly, just out of reach. “Fuckin’ look at you… you ain’t embarrassed acting like this?” He asks, clenching his jaw to keep from moaning at the sight of you. You didn’t know it, or, at least, he hoped you didn’t, but he was addicted to every fucking thing you did. Your voice, your facial expressions, your movements, your back talk, your anger, your sadness; he was obsessed with it all. It was all for him, even when you were alone. 

Smiling slightly, you shake your head no. “Were you embarrassed eating me out?” You counter and he smirks, rolling his eyes slightly before leaning his hips forward, the tip of his cock brushing against your lips. Your mouth opens, your eyes laser focused on his dick. Frank teases you, rubbing his cock across your wet tongue.

“Mmm, fuck, I wasn’t,” he answers, tilting his head as he watches you strain your head forwards in an attempt to take him into your mouth. “But I wasn’t doing that.” You roll your eyes and look up at him, doing your best to look doe-eyed. His eyes narrow; he knew what you were doing, and he knew it would work. “So slutty, aren’t you, sweetheart? All for my cock.” As he talks, his voice low, he uses his hand to press his cock against your cheek, thrusting shallowly. His precum smears across your cheeks and you moan softly, your tongue rolling out of your mouth to slide against his shaft as he does so.

Finally, Frank pushes his cock down your throat. He does so slowly, hissing as he savors the heat of your mouth as your lips wrap around him. Your eyes close and you hum, enjoying the weight of his cock on your tongue. His cock was perfect for you; long, thick, and curved upwards, it always filled you to the brim, hitting that spot inside you to make your eyes roll into the back of your skull. 

“There you go, Y/N,” he grunts, his hips flexing. The rhythm he sets is slow and deep, making you gag each time and giving you enough time to recover before he repeats it. “Fuck, your mouth is so good, you know that? Just wanna, fuck,” his hand comes to rest on the headboard behind you, leaning over your head, plunging his cock deeper into your mouth. You hear the metal headboard creak and you know the grip he has on it is nearly enough to break it. “Just wanna fucking shove it down your throat till you pass out.” 

You gurgle around his cock, heart jumping at the thought, and he grins. “You want that, slut? Huh? Missed me so fuckin’ bad you want me to fuck your tight little throat? Make you take it even after you’re fuckin’ knocked out, using you like my own little fuck toy, my little puppet to do whatever I want with?” His thrusts get harder, deeper, and now you really are finding it hard to breathe, but you don’t want him to stop. Not yet. You have no way to stop him even if you did, and the realization is almost enough to send you into a panic. But you know Frank. He knew your body better than you did, knew what you could handle and what you couldn’t, knew what would make you cry in pain or pleasure; you were safe with him, even if he was bruising your throat. 

The edge of your vision begins to blur, the lack of oxygen making your head spin, and right when you swear you’re about to pass out, your tugging at the handcuffs finally stopping, he pulls out. You suck in a harsh breath, sputtering and coughing, not registering as Frank gets off the bed and kicks his pants the rest of the way off. It’s only when you feel his hands pressing your knees to your chest that you realize what he’s about to do. “Wait!”

“What?” He grumbles, swiping his cock through your folds, focused on the way you coat the tip. “Don’t tell me you don’t wanna fuck… that’ll be cruel...” You respond by tugging at the handcuffs again, clanging them against the bed frame, and he nods, tsking, a grin on his face. “Ah, right, right. Forgot about that. My bad, baby.” 

He grabs the key from his pants pocket, wetting his bottom lip as he unlocks them, tossing the handcuffs and keys to the side. Your wrists are raw, a few droplets of blood bubbling up along the skin. “You made me bleed.” You say softly, no venom in your voice. He grabs your hand gently, bringing it to his mouth before he licks the cut. It tickles.

“Fuck, your blood…” Frank says, giving you a look you can’t quite place before he’s back at the task at hand. Your knees are pushed to your chest, your hands positioned to hold them back as far as you could, and before you know it his cock is bullying its way into your hole. “So fucking tight.” He grunts as he sets a brutal pace, each noise of pain you make only fueling him onward. 

He doesn’t ever want to hurt you, but it’s hard not to when you sound and feel and taste so fucking good when he does.

“My cock too much?” He leans over your body as he fucks you, using his weight to keep your legs trapped above his shoulders. Frank's face hovers above yours, his eyes locked onto every twist of your face. “Too fuckin’ big, too fuckin’ thick, it hurts, Frank.” He mocks, emphasizing each word with a sharp thrust. Your arms, now free from the restraints, wrap around his shoulders tightly. “Too fuckin; much but you don’t want me to stop, fuck, ain’t that right?”

“Yes! Yes, fuck, don’t stop, please!” You cry out, the pain of being stretched out finally beginning to melt away into toe curling pleasure. The fire in your stomach is burning white hot, his stomach bumping against your clit with each thrust, his grunts replacing your own thoughts. Every word he said, every name he called you, it all blended together perfectly.

He begins to kiss at your neck, sucking marks onto your flesh only to soothe them with his tongue. “Missed you too, y’know?” He whispers against you. “Missed this fuckin’ pussy, the way you get so god damn tight. Couldn’t, shit, couldn’t even play with my cock ‘cause it didn’t feel as good as when you do it.” He laughs at this, shaking his head at himself for admitting it. He missed the other stuff too, like your smile and your laugh and the way you smelled when you were curled up in his bed asleep. He’d never tell you that, though. 

Franks thrusts grow sloppy, his patience finally snapping. “You better fuckin’ cum on my dick, Y/N.” He grunts, lifting his head for a brief moment to look you in the eyes. When he sees them squeezed shut he growls, one hand wrapping tight around your throat. “Fuckin’ look at me.” Your eyes pop open, your gasp of shock stuck in your throat. “Your greedy little cunts gonna milk me dry, you understand, bitch?” 

“F-fuck,” you gurgle, your hand grabbing onto his as he tightens his grip again. You do your best to nod, feeling spit collect at the corner of your mouth, your heart beating so quick you think it’s going to burst. You can’t breath but he’s fucking you so well you don’t give a shit; you just hope if you pass out he’ll hold off on cumming inside you until you were awake again so you can feel it. 

“There you go, baby, fuck, cum for me.” Frank grunts, feeling your orgasm just before you do. His hand lets go of your throat as you cum, shoving your head to the side to sink his teeth into your flesh. Somehow, someway, he’s able to hold off for a few moments longer, savoring the feeling of your cunt spasming around him before he cums, the sweet taste of your blood pooling into his mouth tipping him over the edge. He doesn’t let go, groaning into your shoulder as he spills inside you.

Your gasps come out shaky as he feeds. He swallows a few times before finally letting go, your blood covering his mouth. He kisses you roughly, his hips flexing, making sure your cunt gets every drop. “Gross,” you tease when he pulls away, your tongue swiping over the blood he had left behind on your tongue. Your face screws up at the metallic taste but Franks changes to be softer. He runs a finger down the side of your cheek, taking the sight of you in. “What?” You murmur, feeling your face grow hot. 

“I did miss you. For real.” He admits, corner of his lip twitching upwards at both the look of shock that crosses your face and the way your heart skips. He never admitted that to you before; it was always about how much he missed your cunt or your mouth or your hands, how he missed fucking you and making you his, and you always accepted that this was the way it would be. Sure, you dreamed about this moment time and time again, but you never actually thought it would happen. “Being away, you know, made me think some things through.”

“What kind of things?”

“Well…” He tilts his head slightly, surveying your face. “I’m thinking maybe it’s time you joined me.” His hips flex again, pushing his cum deeper inside you, and you gasp, back arching off the bed slightly. Frank moves your legs down off his shoulders and you wrap them around his waist. “Hm? How’s that sound, sweetheart?” Frank purrs, kissing you gently, his cock plunging in and out of you slowly. He pulls back, lips hovering just above yours, a smirk on his face. “You want me to turn you?

[haithamuse]

໒꒱.∘ 02:23 AM ──── REO MIKAGE

absolutely no clue if this is coherent, but i don't really care as this is purely self-indulgent. i love him so much guys i could cry.

cw. lil bit of swearing but it wouldn't be my writing without it, mention of bruises

your eyes narrowed at the bright light when you reached for your phone after waking up, realising it was the middle of the night. apparently it looks like this was yet another dreadful night with two hours of sleep, as rest has not been able to find you easily lately.

groaning internally, you let your body fall back into the mattress, contemplating wether you should get up or stare at the ceiling until morning. suddenly though, you freeze after you feel your arm not hitting the empty bed sheets, but something — or rather, someone else instead.

reo stirred slightly at the contact and your head fell to the side, carefully watching the outlines of his body in the dark for any indication of disturbing his peaceful slumber. you held in for a few seconds, before carefully pulling your arm back. a sigh of relief left your lips as you realised that, no — your boyfriend still seemed to be asleep.

on the other hand though, that little rush of adrenaline also made something else clear to you — falling back asleep was not going to happen soon. ‘fucking hell’, you pinched the bridge of your nose, exasperatedly resigning to your fate.

in one swift motion, you carefully flipped the covers to the side and swung your legs over the side of the bed — goosebumps immediately growing on your skin as soon as your feet touch the cold ground. before you could reach the door however, the rustling of your bedsheets could be heard again. “wait”, reo groaned with sleep still evident in his voice.

you turned around in surprise, as you were sure you had not woken him up, “you’re awake?”

“how could i not?”, he yawned and with the little light that came from the window, you could make out how he was rubbing his eyes — presumably to wipe the sleepiness out of them. “after being so rudely awakened.”

there was a playful lilt in his voice, but you still felt bad for waking him up. on the flipside however, it made you appreciate the decision to position your bed next to the window. it allowed you to look at his shirtless upper body in — quite literally — a different light.

it was beautiful how the moonlight highlighted his defined muscles. it framed his body perfectly, bringing out all those curves, bumps and dips or birth marks that you loved so much. even that almost healed bruise on his right shoulder, which came into being when a practice match didn’t go quite as it was supposed to do.

you actually saw how it happened, as you were right there. it wasn’t planned for you to be there at his practice, but reo had forgotten his house keys. you noticed it as you were about to go out and buy groceries, and being the thoughtful partner that you are, decided to drop them off before going on about your day.

so imagine your surprise when you saw your boyfriend laying on the field with a bunch of his teammates surrounding him.

to say that you threw a fit and acted like he was dying was an understatement — and reo even still teases you about it! though some of his teammates call him quite the lucky guy for having such a caring s/o, reo still tells you that ‘it’s not a big deal’ and to ‘stop worrying so much’. little do you know though that his heart always skips a beat whenever you show that you care, silently begging for you to keep loving him like that.

your fleeting thoughts were suddenly interrupted and you were pulled back to reality, as you felt reo pinching your ass, quickly dodging as you squealed in surprise and instinctively kicked for his legs in response. “c’mon let’s go”, your boyfriend just chuckled and ruffled your hair. even as you pouted at him and reo being barely concious, he’s still being the same gentleman as always and opens the door for you, guiding you through by placing his hand at the small of your back.

it doesn’t matter when or where you are, reo always looks out for you.

you, however, where dumbfounded, “what?”

“kitchen”, he simply stated. “hot chocolate.”

you didn’t even have to tell him, because reo already knew.

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[bsd-elle]

Kazuki's involvement and decision to take care of Miri stems from a lot of trauma and grief.

The moment we are introduced to him, we see him taking care of Rei, and chastising him on the cat that he saved.

He says that you shouldn't take care of something if you're not in it for the long run.

And obviously, that's a result of the loss of his wife and also, a direct result of his childhood.

He has made it clear, and is incredibly self-aware of the fact that he is the way he is because his parents' abandoned him.

And that could've, very easily, sent him down a road of self-destruction and chaos.

But he never let's it encroach his own personality, his own autonomy.

He makes decisions, and not only that, makes mistakes (like every human being), and rather than using a shield of his upbringing, or lack there of, he's concious and takes the blame with his whole chest.

And that is clear throughout episode 7, where you see the inner workings of his mind, how he's still trapped by the events that transpired 5 years back.

Not only mentally, but also not allowing himself to pursue any stability and happiness.

And I'm so glad the show decided to take that very deep, personal, and real look into trauma and grief, and the guilt that comes along with it, that you're leaving the person behind.

Kazuki feels like he's not allowed to be happy, he's scared to find happiness, because, in his head, it would be a betrayal of his wife.

I think Kazuki was living on auto-pilot since the events that transpired over five years back. He wanted his routine to be normal.

Works as a hitman, gambles his life away, hangs out with girls, takes care of Rei, and the cycle continues.

He desperately wanted things to stay the same way because he didn't want to confront the possibility that he was happy, nor even grapple with that idea, thus he constantly seeks uncertainty.

We're not even sure if he has a place to stay, as he states himself, he's crashing at Rei's place.

That was his life and he was content with that because anything to the contrary would mean he was moving on. He was changing, and that would be a direct betrayal of his past relationship.

He fought adamantly against change, he didn't want anything permanent in his life. He didn't want to take care of anything, because if he did, it would mean he was changing. If he were to be fulfilled by something new in his life, it would almost be like he was writing over the history he shared with Yuzuko, and the future they would've shared. The future that was taken away from them, by an action that he actively blames himself for.

Hence, he looked towards simple things that wouldn't make him feel fulfilled, things that he wouldn't have to look after or care for. And that could be something as simple as a pet.

Miri, with her rambunctious energy and sunshine personality, quite literally, bombarded into both of their lives.

From the jump, it's quite clear that Kazuki took a liking to her. But I can't imagine, the mental agony he faced, coming to terms with taking care for her.

Because that would mean he was having a family, 'writing over' a future he lost.

But like Karin said, Memories aren't a prison.

Kazuki is allowed to be happy, is allowed to have a family, he shouldn't hold himself back, because Yuzuko would want nothing more than for him to be happy.

And I think that was an incredibly well-written look into grief and trauma, and a reminder to everyone: If you lost somebody in your life, you doing need to hold yourself back to enjoying things, you don't have to feel guilty, because at the end of the day, you're not writing over history, you're not changing the past , but rather, you are looking forward to a new future while staying connected to the past, and that is okay.

Kazuki realizes that not only was he stopping himself from feeling joy at permanancy, but he was also actually happy, probably for the first time in a very long time.

He feels happy, he feels hopeful, he cares for his family and wants to take care of them, and look after them (because they would, quite literally, die without him😂).

Kazuki, deciding to look after Miri, put in all the extra effort and time, just to see her smile, goes to show the amount of care and love he has for Miri, and him taking control of being responsible for Miri's upbringing and future, so that she wouldn't 'end up like he did'.

In his journey of mindlessly wading through life, he was able to terms with the fact that he's allowed to be happy, he's allowed to feel fulfilled and allowed to have a family.

Sure, it's not the ideal one, probably not the one he envisioned; with a partner that couldn't hold his weight a lot of the time, and a child who's energy is so vivacious.

But what family is ideal? It's definitely not two hitmen, who can barely function on their own, and a child who has them wrapped around her finger.

Maybe it's not what he dreamed of, but hey, atleast he can spend the rest of his days teaching his little, imperfectly perfect family how to make a good French Toast.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

I'm a sucker for jealous jon so imagine scenario:

One sided rivalry Jon and colin, Jon being absolutely jealous at the fact he is not in fact dami's first friend, and this kinda of results in him becoming self concious, obviously hes happy that his best friend has a friend before him. Totally. So he subconciously always tries to show of to dami that he is obviously better than this red head no i'm not jealous D what are you talking abou-

Bonus points if damian's first crush was Colin and Jon knowing (and subconciously hating) that information, tries his damn hardest to sabotage. And when jondami eventually does happen, colin congratulate them and obviously jon is thanking him.

He will never let go of that first friend and crush tho-

I always wanted to write a fic that Damian was Colin's first crush/love and that Colin watched as Jon entered the picture and knew longgggg before Damian that Jon was starting to fall for him, and that Damian was falling for him too. So he knew he'd never have a chance himself, and because Damian's happiness and safety was his ultimate goal, he made the painful decision to let Damian go. So the fic would be Colin kinda finding Jon on a rooftop when he's waiting for Damian and just telling him to take care of Damian, and love Damian, no matter what. That Damian deserves that much, and if Jon doesn't give it, Colin will find him.

...But I never did haha.

But 100% I could absolutely see Jon just being jealous as FUCK. I too love jealous Jon. I feel like that's one of his biggest/only flaws? He's been so traumatized that he CANNOT let go of ANYONE. Damian especially. And any threat to that? nu uh, he won't let it.

Meanwhile, Colin 100% knows Jon is jealous, and depending on his mood, plays into it/acts as antagonist, or b) just straight up tells Damian haha.

[therealslimshakespeare]

And please add your own thoughts guys, I wanna hear them. I don’t care how graphic, lol.

Ok. Fine! Here me out. Fair warning that this is filthy but I feel like Lu would love to give BENNY (not just in general) blowjobs. Because I feel like she would find something so empowering in the way she can elicit those sorts of reactions from him and sort of make him lose it a bit, you know? Especially if we consider that when they’re first starting to do things I imagine that he would sort of take the lead and focus more on her and just be very respectful about everything. But then when she gets curious and wants to return the favour I feel like he just absolutely loses his mind the first time she does it and she loves the way that that made her feel and ends up being very eager about it lol. Which in turn just turns him on even more because I truly believe that her enjoyment is what fulfils him sexually so. Also just the fact that he’s like STILL so respectful when she’s doing it is just another thing that she really loves

Oh, oh fuck this is what I’m talking about. This is helping. For me and her, ha.

Ok. Dives in…

Not to sound weird but this is exactly what I imagined Ida loved as well -blow jobs, hand jobs, the ability to elicit that reaction and submission from a man without having to be so preoccupied about her own body. So fully agreed, I can see this for Lu, too.

Not to fully project my own experiences on her but sometimes when something awful happened to you young and it’s really by far the most about sex you’d ever known or heard of up to that point, it kinda wakes you up to it. You’re very concious suddenly of the subject and the people around you and their relation to the subject. Even ones you trust. So I wonder if she’s just sometimes startled by the fact she’s zoning out about that with someone who’s a friend. Except this transfers well in some ways. She stays curious, a little belligerently so. She knows it can be good, she wants to be normal, she wants to reclaim that.

She fucking loves the rush of power and trust it gives her when with Benny.

Also I feel like it’s very key to her that it be an emotional decision. Yes it’s consented to and given thought and care but she really loves being wooed by him, being necked by him, encourages him to get handsy in time. So, emotional urge to do it helps. Also. How vocal he is? There’s no way not to be present and realize she’s with him. Essential for her

[tiloopadoo]

My Doc youtooz arrived today and I noticed that Doc's youtooz is bigger than Bdubs. Was this likely a situation they couldn't control? Yes. Is the situation infinitely funnier if you imagine that Doc made the concious decision to make his bigger? Also yes.

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

A Wolf’s Heart | [Deglan x M!Reader] | The Witcher | Part III

Notes: This is part 3 of a request and we’re still on the angst train haha... I’m so sorry lol. I feel like the characters I made up for this story are more present than the love interest omg but he will appear soon I promise!!

Fandom: The Witcher

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Swearing, Depression, Angst, Slight OOC, Non-Canon Story, Century Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Spiraling, Injuries, Self-Concious Reader, Misunderstandings, my sad attempt at making the language sound old

Summary: Devastated, Y/N spends his first year on the Path with a broken heart and the wolf comes to a decision. He will not return to his school’s keep in winter to heal his heartbreak. But staying away has consequences he has not fully considered...

Word Count: 3,614

Taglist: @thatsequoia

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed and it is addressed in this story, if you are triggered by this please do not continue to read!

Part I, Part II, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII

Masterlist

Winter had reached the lands and Y/N's encounters with monsters became rarer and rarer. The young witcher had increasingly more time to rest and therefore think and as a consequence guilt and longing began to gnaw at his heart, and so he did what many men did when they suffered from their feelings; He drowned these emotions in alcohol. 

The h/c haired man had travelled to Vengerberg to spend the winter there and was now resting in a small tavern that allowed him to stay during the cold months for a fair price. 

Winter meant no business for witchers and all the money he acquired would finance his stay at the inn. Had he gone home to Kaer Morhen he could have used the money for better armour and advanced potions but Y/N had sworn to himself that he would not return during that winter. 

Because of his feelings. He was not yet ready to face Deglan, to look him in the eye and not feel all the longing and love he held for the man for so many years.

His mentor’s words had haunted his mind for months. 

What did he want to tell him? That he knew about Y/N’s feelings for him? That he was disgusted? Why did he give him the cloth around his neck? What did it mean? What if he wanted to tell him he had found a woman to settle down with within the year that he stayed away? What if it was that noble lady he mentioned?!

His imagination would spin crazier tales than any bard ever could and his dreams tormented him with images of Deglan and all the witchers at Kaer Morhen and his friends cursing him and chasing him away. 

This fear settled into his chest and weighed him down whenever his resolve to stay away was shaken. 

And then it had turned high winter and he had no way to return to Kaer Morhen because the mountain passes were snowed in and he had no chance to cross them in that weather. 

So he stayed at the inn, his constant companions the tavern cat, alcohol, his yearning heart and his misery. The cat was good company though. The others... not so much.

Due to his miserable appearance and the strong stench of alcohol, most people stayed away from him, so he had rarely anyone to talk to. Not that people went out of their way to converse casually with a witcher.

He tried to distract himself by taking a look at the city.

But when he roamed the streets of Vengerberg to look at the occasional herbs and trinkets traders brought, some brave women would approach him. 

He saw them hanging around the bustling whorehouses in the city and could guess what they wanted, but as much as his witcher side wanted to relieve his sexual frustration, the women did not attract his interest at all. 

The thought of trying to forget Deglan by sleeping with any of them never crossed his mind. Because he could not. The idea did nothing for him. Rather it made him feel more miserable, so he steered clear of the prostitutes and avoided them whenever he could. 

In his free time - and he had a lot of it during that winter - when he was not drowning himself in alcohol and misery, he worked on his bestiary, trained, and after some conversations, played cards with the tavern owner and his daughter. Barmin had been a good teacher and Y/N could win any round of Gwent easily. 

His skills became so great apparently that the enthusiastic and bored players in the city began to seek him out for a challenge - some scared at first because of his scarred appearance and the rumours about witchers, others with great interest - and he spent the last two months of winter with all kinds of people. 

He met traders, soldiers, simple farmers and even a bard who recognized him as the slayer of the royal wyvern in Gulet. 

The latter showed an unusual interest in his life and Y/N realized with absolute wonder that the man was making advances on him. 

It threw him in a loop because finally, he had proof that he was not the only one who liked other men, there were more like him, therefore, he was normal and his feelings weren't unnatural or even abominable at all! 

But as much as he liked the bard's appearance and character, he was not over Deglan. His heart stubbornly held onto his feelings. Even when he had no chance at all... 

That thought dampened his mood every time and the bard noticed his despondent spirit. He was quick to identify his mood as a reaction to unrequited love and apologized for his unwanted advances.

Y/N didn’t mind them though, he told him and they held a long discussion about their preferences.

Hannes was a noisy fella and the few things that Y/N let slip about his feelings for Deglan quickly earned him the advice of writing some love letters to the person of his interest to deal with his feelings. 

It was utterly bizarre to suggest a witcher write a love letter but the idea somehow warmed up to him and before Y/N knew it he had written several letters addressed to his mentor. 

He never sent them though. 

They held his deepest secrets and hidden feelings and while he enjoyed writing down his thoughts and desires, he stowed them away in the depths of his saddlebags where they would hopefully stay hidden for eternity or the moment until he was strong enough to burn them. 

He was quite embarrassed when the bard asked him about it a few days later and he confessed that he indeed wrote some letters.

Hannes had only smiled and patted his shoulder as if he was proud of him. 

Y/N felt warm but strange at the same time, it was unusual for anyone to touch him so casually - of course, Deglan and his friends were an exception, but a random person instead of a witcher outside of Kaer Morhen was something new... He liked it.

Maybe that showed how lonely he actually was.

The bard and the other people who played Gwent with him distracted him during the day and strangely enough, some of them were concerned about his excessive alcohol consumption and whenever they met, he was only allowed to drink watered-down wine or beer. 

This certainly helped him to get back on his feet when news reached him in the first weeks of spring that a kikimore has been spotted by one of the trade groups en route to the city.

He was surprisingly excited to fight against a flesh-devouring monster again, but in his defence, the times in Vengerberg when no one else had time to play Gwent or entertain him, he spent moping, remembering and imagining terrible things. 

The nights when he could not sleep were the worst. His scarred skin itched and he remembered his nights in the alchemist cellar in Kaer Morhen, the screams of other apprentices echoed in his ears and phantom pain of the alchemist concoctions haunted his body. 

He remembered Cole’s dead body and the bodies of countless other boys who lost their lives during the trials and the fights against real monsters in the valley of the school’s keep. All the deaths he had seen, all the screams he had heard. 

Those memories pumped adrenalin through his veins and his nerves were all on the edge, he could smell the rotting cheese in the cellar of the tavern, the mould in one of the other guest rooms, and he heard the quietest squeak of one of the rats in the attic, the gulps of the late patrons downstairs when they drank their beer and the rustling of fabric when someone moved.

Deglan’s cloth around his neck seemed heavy like hundredweights in those moments, like a scalding noose and he wanted to take it off but he swore to himself that he wouldn’t and he was stubborn, so he endured until his panic attacks subsided.

Y/N hated these attacks and more often than not he found himself gripping his thighs so hard that his fingernails left bloody half moons on his skin.

He tried to meditate but he rarely found relief because his mind wandered when he remembered the meditation techniques he was taught by Deglan.

Deglan, Deglan, Deglan. Like a loyal dog, his mind always returned to him. 

It was pure torture.

Y/N never wanted to experience that again. 

The prospect of working his body to exhaustion was therefore very welcome. And any injuries he would receive from the kikimore hunt... well, his subconscious saw them as an additional bonus. He did not really think about that though.

The next day, Y/N packed his travel bags, saddled Lisica and told the owner and his daughter goodbye and then he was off on the Path for the second time.

Unexpectedly though, he met several people of the city at the gate, people he knew, and like the year before at Kaer Morhen, he got sent off by a waving crowd. 

His chest was warm when Lisica rushed down the path from Vengerberg and he decided to return to the city again when the opportunity would arise. 

-

He hunted the kikimore successfully and soon the monster-killing business was in full swing again and Y/N was busy travelling across Aedirn. 

The letters in Lisica's saddlebags multiplied and he had to buy new paper and ink several times, for the letters addressing his friends but mostly for his letters addressed to Deglan.

With growing relief Y/N slowly felt like the distance finally did what it was supposed to do. Deglan did not haunt his dreams and thoughts as often as before and the pain in his chest lessened. The letters probably helped as well. He was surprised how good it felt to write his suppressed emotions down. 

But then he unexpectedly met Fenri. 

And everything went down the drain.

The two witchers met on the road after Y/N had just exterminated a nest of ghouls, still covered in blood and intestines. He came across a black stallion with a griffin head tied to the horse's saddle as he left the forest on foot with Lisica walking beside him. 

His mare whinnied excitedly and Y/N quickly realized that this was the horse of his rival. 

He tied Lisica to a tree because she was a bit too happy about seeing a friend from her filly years and then he turned around and approached the mighty stallion with a placating gesture. The horse snorted when he walked up to him to pet his flank. 

"What are you doing here, boy?" he asked calmly and laughed a little when Fenri's stallion nudged his hip where he had some snacks stored for Lisica. He was about to give the stallion half of a carrot when he felt something sharp pressed against his back. 

"Get your whoreson ass away from Cinder", growled a voice from behind him and Y/N smiled knowingly. 

Although Fenri was at fault for many of his nightmares, he tried to not hold it against him. After all, they had been somewhat friends since the moment they passed the trial of Grasses and they became real friends - and true rivals, according to Fenri - in the years after Cole’s death. 

The blond was also not the only one who had said horrible things in his youth. It was not like he could openly hold it against him either. People like him and Hannes were... rare, probably.

And to tell the truth, he was actually glad to know that Fenri was still alive. They rarely exchanged letters, so he was unaware of his whereabouts and adventures.

"I didn’t know you would be here in Aedirn, Fenri", he said and turned around to face the other witcher. Fenri's eyes widened and before Y/N could say anything else, he was punched in the face. 

His eyes watered instantly and he leaned back while holding his nose, groaning in pain. 

"What... the fuck was that for?!" 

The man felt blood trickling from his nose and angrily wiped it away with the back of his hand. The blond witcher in front of him still showed a dumbfounded expression and tucked away the dagger he hit Y/N with.

"Ah, I apologize. I don’t know what came over me." 

Fenri scratched his now-bearded chin awkwardly and patted Y/N's shoulder as an apology.

The two witchers looked at each other.

Both of them had changed in the last year. New scars, new freckles, different hairstyles, the absence of their last boyish naivety... 

A second later they hugged.

"You brute, why did you punch me?!" Y/N laughed and winced at the same time as Fenri's arms tightened around him. 

His rival and friend snorted but it sounded slightly aggressive and when they parted from their hug, he grabbed the older witcher by the shoulders. His yellow eyes stared into Y/N's with a stern look.

"Everyone thought you were dead. That you got mauled by a basilisk on the Path..." He paused, searching Y/N's eyes for any kind of guilt. 

"Barmin was actually crying, you fool. After Cole's death..." He paused again to take a deep breath. "His heart is fragile like a maiden’s, you know that well. Why did you not send a letter?" Fenri shook him by the shoulders. 

"Where were you?" 

Y/N gave him an exhausted smile, showing his blood-stained teeth and the man let go of him. 

He could understand Fenri's reaction. Their friend group had been tight-knitted ever since Cole's death and all the letters he received and which were currently in his saddlebags acted as proof. He received the most from Barmin, his closest friend.

He could guess what they imagined when he did not appear in Kaer Morhen during the winter... When he did not send any word of his absence. He just hadn’t expected Fenri to react emotionally and hit him in the face. 

He touched his nose carefully, it still hurt, but thanks to his mutated body he had already stopped bleeding. Y/N wiped the rest of the blood away from his lips and then tried to find the right words to explain why he did not return to the Wolf school's keep all these months ago. 

"I spent the winter in Vengerberg..." He turned away from Fenri to give Cinder the carrot from before, while he continued to talk: 

"It was already late autumn when I arrived in the city and I was injured. Even if I had left for Kaer Morhen then, I would not have been able to come before the arrival of the first snow. So I stayed to heal. I wanted to send a letter but I was busy so it slipped my mind." 

The truth sprinkled with half-lies went surprisingly easy over his lips. However, he forgot that Fenri was not easily fooled. 

"That is a load of crap. You didn’t want to come, did you not?" 

Y/N stilled, his muscles tensed and he bit his lip. How... How could Fenri know? Was he that obvious? He couldn’t be, right?

But Fenri destroyed his hope with his next words:

"It’s because of Deglan, or am I wrong?" 

Y/N's heart wanted to leap out of his chest and he abruptly turned around to face his friend. All these years he thought he was subtle, that he hid his feelings well. If Fenri knew who else did? What if...? 

No. No, that can’t ever happen!

His heartbeat began to pound loudly in his ears while he watched his friend with eagle eyes, trying to find any kind of sign that he was joking.

Fenri paced in front of him with a hand in his hair as if he tried to appear carefree.

"Fuck, you should have seen Deglan's face when he saw us sit at our usual table, you nowhere to be found... I have never seen that expression before, he looked like he-" the witcher snorted, "he looked like he was about to butcher someone. Now that I think about it, it will probably be you when you two will meet this winter. Maybe you shouldn’t return." 

He looked at Y/N again who stood still as a statue, his hand clenched into fists. The older witcher did not react to his joke and Fenri frowned. 

He understood Y/N's reaction to an extent but it still surprised him.

He had been thinking about the situation since Deglan had stormed out of the Evening hall when the news reached them that Y/N did not arrive at Kaer Morhen and no one heard anything from him, and Fenri came to the conclusion that the words he had said all those years ago had held some truth. He had some suspicions for years but only after Deglan’s obvious fury did he begin to seriously mull over it.

Y/N most likely held romantic feelings for Deglan. And Deglan... Well, he had felt that their relationship was special during their last years of training but... He was certain that they did not talk about it. Not yet.

It was probably likely due to Fenri's dumb comment and the bullshit talk of other witchers after it that Y/N was trying to avoid Deglan and why he stayed away from Kaer Morhen. 

But he was sure that the h/c haired witcher couldn’t let go of his feelings. 

The blue cloth sticking out under his armour said enough, Fenri knew it had been a gift from Deglan, he had watched the two men closely when he and his friends were sent off on the Path.

He could never believe that his rival was dead. So he counted two and two together and reached a conclusion; the older man was more of a coward than he thought.

"You should have just returned. Who cares what feelings you have for him, anything is better than him and all your friends believing you to be dead." 

Y/N's shoulders shook and he let go of the stallion's mane. 

"...ny."

"What?" Fenri tilted his head. Did he hear correctly?

"I do not have any feelings for Deglan."

Y/N had to squeeze these words out between his teeth and the lie burned on his skin like a whiplash. 

Fenri frowned. 

"You don’t have to lie to me, Y/N. Listen, I know what I said all those years ago hurt you and I want to say that-" He got interrupted by the other who had turned around. His yellow eyes held an icy gaze and the witcher's voice was flat: 

"I said I do not feel anything for Deglan. Stop assuming that I do. We both know men liking men is disgusting."

Having his own words from his stupid youthful self thrown back at him made Fenri feel horrible, especially because Y/N's eyes were full of withheld pain. 

He wanted to open his mouth to protest, to tell his rival that he had changed his mind, that he had been wrong and a brainless fool when he was younger, that he had no right to assume anything about the true feelings of another and he as a witcher should know better than to dare act presumptuous but Y/N walked past him without a word and Fenri opened and closed his mouth uselessly. 

The words just wouldn’t leave his lips.

He was too shocked and felt too guilty to react as his friend everyone had believed to be dead mounted his horse and left. He only stared at Y/N’s retreating back as Cinder whinnied, expressing the sadness he felt when his childhood friend disappeared without another word.

-

Y/N bit his lip so hard he could taste iron again. Lisica's speed made his eyes water and when actual tears rolled down his cheeks he did not stop them. 

A storm raged in his mind and he still could not quite fully comprehend what had just happened. 

At first, he had been happy to see Fenri again, even though it felt strange because the other had changed quite a bit. But then Fenri mentioned his absence in winter - he should have seen that coming - and quickly discovered his lies. 

Fenri knew all along. About his feelings for Deglan, about the impure thoughts he had, about him wanting to confess, fuck, he had probably known since that moment all those years ago! 

He had known about Tristan and now he knew about Deglan. Fenri knew he was a dirty disgusting immoral bastard and he had tried to act as if he believed Y/N was normal. 

It had to be a trick. He probably wanted to lure him back to Kaer Morhen only to condemn him before the school of the Wolf. Deglan would be there, maybe even that noble lady would be by his side, or another woman, his mentor was handsome enough... 

And his friends would be there. And everyone else. 

They would hang him.

He ignored the tiny voice in his head whispering that Fenri would never do that and his friends would not react that way. The fear that had tormented him for the few years since that one incident on a hunt coiled around his heart like a snake, crushing the excitement he had felt when he saw his friend again.  

He heaved a dry laugh and his shoulders began to shake. 

"Fuck." 

More tears escaped his eyes and he tightened his grip around the reins. 

For the first time in many years, he once more thought about joining Cole in the afterlife. 

[kingthreshie-official]

Now that I've had some time to sit with the epilogue story after a bit of going back and rereading it, I don't know if I should be excited for the future of these stories or not. I'm going to put my rant and contexts under a readmore because this is going to be me vomiting at a textbox and assuming someone else on the web will get it. But it's going to be a mix of thunder Junction and the epilogue.

When it comes to Magic the Gathering, I go back and forth with myself often about whether the story comes first or the cards come first. Some sets, Like (I will argue) Both Eldraine sets, Seem to have a lot more focus on their stories, and then make very flavorful cards based off of that. Other sets, like thunder junction, feel like the gimmick and cards were designed first, and then all of that had to be pasted into a story. While I get that it can be hard to make gameplay and story always line up, as you have to tow a line between a player always being confused, and a player feeling railroaded or obligated to stick to the story, Wizards never really has to deal with the stakes of "railroading too hard".Decks are always 100% customizable, you can't take that agency from a bunch of jerkasses at a table, so they have the ability to lean harder into their story than a lot of other games media does. The Writing decisions made by the stories team have the potential to completely adjust what cards get made if wotc was bold enough to follow through with actual adjustments to their world. But OTJ proves that that will never happen, and that any exciting consequence can be stepped back on in 2 stories for one card that will probably make a lot of bank, or to see a villain in a cool hat.

To be fair, Marchesa looks really cool as a cowpoke. her hat is very cool. But justifying going back on her fighting so hard for her kingdom just for a supposed villains set feels like a regression of her character, especially since she has almost always had someone else do her bidding. And a lot of the Villains seen in thunder junction didn't seem to be used or changed for the better, a lot of them felt like set pieces that could have been swapped out with anyone else in that story, and the results would have been similar. I can't think of any significant reason what it *Had* to be Tinybones, Breeches, or Eriette. The only characters that stand out to me as being irreplaceable in the main story are Oko (driving plot forward for Kellan), Geralf/ Gisa (Geralf patched one or two wounds, Gisa is a wild card that causes problems, but she is OH so Memorable I cannot imagine that train scene without her) and Annie Flash (Again, Kellans Concious/Catalyst to make sure the "right thing" for Kellan is done, and provides some context as to How and why Akul is dangerous.). And to be fair, I didn't mind that up until the final chapter. It was fun enough, not a world shaking MTG story but considering we're still at the beginning stages of seeing a world with Omenpaths (as players. This is set 3? 4?) And there's still a lot of questions to ask about creatures and planes (the Gisa and Geralf side story goes into this so well. I love those 2 they are ICONIC), It did its job OK and I wouldn't have had anything to write home about.

Until Jace.

I will admit, I'm not a huge fan of Jace, but it's mostly because he's boring. You know that once he's involved in plot the stakes are basically off, as regardless of how perilous the situation is, or how heinous of an action he performs, He's going to make it out with a few cuts/bruises/maybe a memory wipe and everything else will basically go back to a degree of status quo. It's not fun following a character who you know is going to be mostly fine and alive by sheer virtue of him being there. And I get its because over time he has become *the* mtg Mascot, but that's why I thought Phyrexia/March of the machines was interesting. It was finally a consequence for Jace that he couldn't fully shake himself out of, and his presumed death felt like the end of an Era and a potential for something new and interesting. You know, until he showed back up. And the story shows him getting out of what should have been certain death with a fever and another road trip back to Vryn. And I realized that I have been Punkd for the past few stories and of course nothing changes anymore its Jace Fucking Beleren and he's going to win again. And of course it's with Vraska again, If they make me go through the crime of having to listen to those two in an audiobook format again, at least this time I know not to order from drive through while listening to MTG story (so one of us has consequences, and it's not him). Being able to beat out glistening oil with a fever also felt cheap, but that may just be because I feel like there's better MTG characters that we lost due to the oil.The fact that we may never get them back feels like a kick to the shins.

However, I am also not totally doom and Gloom about Jace's reappearance in MTG story because we see a bit of the return of "Jerkass Jace". Contrary to my opinions about Jace, Jerkass Jace is a relic of a bygone Era and I Missed him so much, because he was unbearable! A total monster! An absolute pain to everyone around him! Unlikeable, Clever, and selfish! Cared about nobody! Jerkass Jace was so ethically bankrupt that I am going to be honest he may have the potential to turn this entire thing around. The BBEG MTG villains (Phyrexia, Eldrazi, the Dragon formerly known as Nicol Bolas), have been the predictable and therefore kind of dull villains for the longest time now. You can usually predict which one is next by the results of the previous ones fights. But Wizards could make Jace the big bad evil guy with Jerkass Jace! I think that would be incredibly refreshing. Get a new face in the Villains spotlight with a character who's powers have the potential for it (and as Annie mentioned, he is hiding something) and it could be really interesting! Jace has the motives! It could be a great way to bring intrigue to him! (And not the eldrazi. Or bolas using an omenpath and dipping off Ugins plane) Nobody will see it coming let him go NUTS!

[darth-sonny]

Imagine if Kraang prime's possession being different than any regular kraang, like instead of very obvious body motification and "brainless" followers, Leo is concious he makes his decisions.

Instead its control is very subtle, it doesn't show itself.. but at first through whispers.. making Leo believe its just his mind talking, Kraang prime is smart he won't show his possession until the very last second where it will all be too late.

Like imagine it pushing Leo to do certain things, and at first Leo realizes some very suspicious things but he looks at himself in the mirror and sees nothing, so he can't be kraangefied right?

Instead of immediately giving Leo orders that would alert him and his family of smth wrong, it gives the seed of doubt. Like i bet kraang prime realizes Leo is way better/usefull being concious than being brainless, since Leo is smart he is a strategist. He makes elaborate plans and manages to ruin their invasion.

Kraang doesn't need the brain of a genius (donnie) they're already smart

Kraang doesn't need the strength of a protector (Raph) they're already strong/powerful

Kraang doesn't need a breakable mystic warrior (mikey) it will break itself before it can even be of use to them

But what is useful? A strategist, a portalist, someone who knows things inside and out (Leo is also canonically second strongest after Raph)

Sorry this is so long, was just very interested in your Prime Leo AU!! 💙💙

Fsksusgksruhflfjshlriyosurkgd BRO DONT BE SORRY THIS IS SO COOL, THANK YOU FOR BEING INTERESTED

and yeah, that is pretty much what happens

Prime's goals are, by order of how fun they'd be:

1. psychologically mess with Leo

2. psychologically mess with the fam

3. kraangify the rest of earth's population

4. restart the invasion

[pgrdorms]

HI the sushi is back. :D. I thought of like something and I wanted to request it. I can see it happening in my head. But I cant properly. Write out how the characters would respond. So I was thinking like. What if commandant always had like a mask on to cover half of their face (like the dental masks we use rn) and like. The men never got to see commandant's face. (You can include whoever you want!!) But like. Some kind of (the mask gets ripped off during a mission or like it just gets cut off) accident happens and the mask is now gone. So they see commandant's face right?? And like. What if commandant has some kind of noticable and obvious facial feature (maybe like a scar?? I see it being like a burn mark, just a scar through the lower part of the face or something other like that) and because of insecurities they wanted to hide it so they resorted to wearing a mask to cover it but now that it's gone it's like. Full view for the men. So just how would the men respond or react to the commandant's face?? 🍣🍣

Oooh this is a great ask! Thanks sushi anon I hope it's okay that I only did 3 characters, I wanted to do content for the bois who don't have a lot atm (also cus i have like 5 other requests to do atm so im tryna speedrun em ;w;)

Reaction to commandant wearing a face mask

SFW | Fluff | Gn!Reader

Camu | Chrome | Roland

mentions: face scars, commandant is self conscious

Camu

He also wears a mask, so he doesn't think much of yours

Hasn't really thought about how you look until Kamui asks if he's ever seen your face

Of course he's going to respect your decision to wear the mask, but he does wonder how you look

The both of you had just finished off wiping a big corrupted machine, it was on its last legs and tried to do one last swipe at you before falling

You had only just managed to dodge on time but the machine managed to slash at your face

Camu shouts your name, running over to check for injury

He doesn't mean to but he stops and stares at your bare face and the scar running across your chin

You quickly try cover it but he stops you, kneeling down and gently holding your face

"Sorry...I couldn't help but look at you commandant, you look a lot better than I imagined"

Camu does not mind your scar at all, he's got a few of his own that he will happily show you to make you feel better

Brags later to Kamui that he saw your face before he did

Chrome

He had gone to your room to pick you up, arriving early outside

After knocking and not hearing you, he invites himself inside and stops

You were just about to put on your face mask and stare in surprise/horror at Chrome

He quickly apologises and turns away to give you privacy, he only got a glimpse of your face

Chrome later in the day approaches you to apologise again, and ask why you wear the mask (he thought it was a shame to cover that cute face)

You tear up a bit explaining you were self-conscious about the burn mark on your lower cheek

Chrome smiles warmly at you and reassures you there was nothing to be self conscious about

Every day he will always say a compliment to you to help build up your esteem

He awaits the day you will be able to proudly show your bare face, and Chrome will be there every step of the way

Roland

When he first saw you, his initial thought was "They're going through some angst phase"

Sometimes does tease you about what kind of face could be underneath, but immediately stops when you begin to look uncomfortable

It doesn't take much for him to realise you're self concious about your face

Will be upfront about it saying something like "Who the fuck cares what people think, you're you, own it" and "Want me to kill whoever bullies you?"

Doesn't realise how protective he's gotten of you

Eventually you trust him enough to reveal your face, Roland doesn't react negatively, only smirking

"Finally get to see you~"

He likes the scars on your face, commenting how it gives you a badass character

Will never treat you differently just because of your scars, he knows what its like to be pushed around

Tagged: @asoundofdrop <3 i didnt forget this time LMAO

[the-random-phan]

Hehehe my version of Madoka Magica magical boy Danno! I watched PMMM like... 3 years ago?

Info on my design decisions down below, as well as how I think Danny would work in a PMMM world. Here's your spoiler warning for Madoka Magica- go watch that first!

Unless Kyubey makes an exception, I like to think that Danny is trans in this AU. Which opens a big door for self-doubt oh boy (all the angst hehehe)

His cape I stole from a Ghost King design of mine, and I like how it looks here.

I noticed Madoka Magica outfits are kind of... formal? Bookworm-ish? Idk what the vibe is exactly but it's why I gave Danny that ruffle-thing, hair style, and bows.

The handle of the staff-sword is the infi-map, though in a Madoka Magica world I imagine it would just be a normal, non-physics breaking map. But he could use it to navigate Witches. Basically, omnipotent map.

His left (our right) hand is resting on a kind of kitchen timer, which looks like the Portal. Is that portal functional? Idk. Probably not.

Basically, Danny can wind up the timer up to 60 seconds and freeze time for that duration. If Danny travels to a PMMM universe, I imagine some Clockwork shenanigans would be at play, thus the influence on his weapon. (Which is also why he has a cloak in the first place. I tried making it purple like Clockwork but I didn't like that color scheme)

The staff is not exactly a lightsaber, though it is similar. If anyone remembers Maddie's glowy staff from Maternal Instincts, it's kinda like that, but it doesn't go into the handle when de-powered.

Basically a green energy stick that can be un-energized and used as a normal staff. He could cut through stuff with it, but it'd take a lot of Danny's power and energy. It's blunt on the end, because I don't trust Danny not to accidentally poke his eye out.

As for his soul gem,, I don't really know. It really depends on if he's a halfa or not. If he isn't, he'd prob have normal color skin when transformed and would likely hide it under his collar-ruffles-thing.

If he's a halfa, I think it'd be neat for his soul gem to kinda be... inside his core? I think his core would remain a part of him and not be condensed into the soul gem. Thus his core would be the safest place to put it, and as seen in the show Danny is able to have things phased inside him (Dan Phantom w/ the time medallion) and live.

If he ever did lose his soul gem, I think he would still be able to "live" (be concious) but he would be unable to revert to human form without collapsing and, if separated for too long, he would become a full ghost. He'd also probably be in a lot of pain while his soul gem is gone bc I doubt the sensation of organs shutting down is very comfy (hope I'm remembering how those work lol)

Oh boy a Ghost Witch would be terrifying

A wish? What's that? Yeah I have no clue. His first want in an isekai-world would probably be to go back home, but I Kyubey probably couldn't/wouldn't grant it. I just really don't know what he'd wish for. Probably something heroic and self-sacrificing lol

Them's my thoughts :)

[echos-newlegs]

if you’re still doing requests, would you maybe do #9 with Crosshair & a reader that uses he/him pronouns (but is maybe not cis idk?)?? Like maybe the batch rescued the reader from some sort of bad situation, & Cross is the only one awake to comfort him when the reader wakes up from a nightmare or has a flashback??? If this is too specific just lmk I just have a lot of Feelings about Crosshair ahdjajdjsksm

-boba-filth (<— side blog I check more for fic stuff)

Bad Dreams

Heck yes 😎 sorry if it is out of character and cruddy. Running into a bit of a writers block, but I’m tryna force it over— maybe.

@boba-filth

Crosshair x reader: “I’m not going to leave you, not now, not ever. You’ll never have to suffer alone again.”

Warnings: brief mentions of family death, touch starved, slightly out of character. Passing out/fainting from being malnourished. Reader is a Slave and TBB save them.

You were born into slavery. It was what made up your life. You never once imagined that you could be free. Live your own life. Make your own decisions. The idea of freedom made you laugh, honestly. It was just such a far stretch and unimaginable. You figured you'd die in the spice mines like the rest of your family did.

You were on lunch break. Eating quickly to avoid getting harassed or beaten by one of the soldiers watching you and the other workers on break. You guys rarely got time to yourselves. When you did, it was barely even a half hour long. So food was often shoved into your system like it was your last meal.

You looked up when you heard the sirens go off. Breath catching in your throat. They only went off for intruders or when there was a group of miners attempting escape. The noise was enough to have you and the others standing and starting your own commotion.

Fights broke out, blasters were fired. You didn't want to be caught in the middle of the fire, so you ran. Your eyes wide and darting around. You had to hide. Sure, life sucked, but you didn't want to die. Not today at least.

"Hey, you there!" A guard shouted, pointing to you. Making you run faster in a panic. You felt tears prick the corner of your eyes when a hand grasped your arm. Pulling you to the side. "Where d'ya think you're goin', wise one?" Another guard asked. Your body trembling as you stared up to him. "I was, I was just, I was getting out of the mess. They were firing-" you rambled. The guard snarling and shoving you. "Can it, fool."

You were sure you'd be shot. Closing your eyes when the one holding your arm raised a blaster to your forehead. "We don't do well with run aways, do we?" "Nope," the other guard answered. "What do ya say we play a-" Bang! Bang!

You inhaled sharply. Squeezing your eyes shut more than they were. Jumping as your fists clenched at the sound of the blaster. The smell of burning flesh and blaster residue filling your nose. "Hey, you alright?" A voice came from in front of you. Eyes parting to see someone in armor, with goggles? You were alarmed, to say the least. They had to be an intruder. But why did they save you..? A nobody?

"You saved me.." you babbled. Blinking in shock as you stared at the other. "Well, you looked like you needed the help, are you alright, though?" You nodded, rubbing your arm where the guard squeezed. You were sure there would be a bruise there. Your skin was so sensitive anymore. "Good," he started walking off, and you felt your body tremble again. "Wait! I know the exits. I can help you, if you get me out of here." You bargained. The man turning back to face you. Sighing, then kicking a blaster from one of the motionless bodies to you. "Alright, but stay close."

You did as told, and kept your piece of the deal. Following who you soon learnt to be named Tech, around the mines. The two of you meeting up with four other men. Who each had bags full of viles of spices. "Who's this?" The one asked, motioning to you with his helmet. "Our escape plan, they claim to know some exits." "The guards don't even know about them. We use them to get out of the mines for our breaks." You added, and the bigger of the men shoved you a bit. Though it wasn't in a forcing way. "Then let's get going!"

The six of you took through the tunnels. Feet grinding against the gravel as you ran. You felt so weak, tired. You wanted to rest, but this was your chance at freedom. Even if you didn't know these men. Life as their servant or whatever they planned on doing with you, would be a hell of a lot better than this life you portrayed.

You pressed your back against the wall when you heard foot steps that weren't your guys. Motioning for them to do the same, and they did. Men running by the tunnel hall heading the other direction. "How much further?" Tech asked, and you pointed to a latter. "There, that latter. It leads up to the surface." You spoke, and they nodded. Motioning for you to head there first, so they could keep watch.

The ground began to shake, parts of the tunnel behind you collapsing. "Hurry!" You shouted. The pain in your chest making your throat clench. Climbing up the latter as quickly as you could. The boys following after you. Making it out just as the tunnels caved in.

You practically threw yourself on the ground as you made it to the top. Everyone doing the same. Each of you panting, adrenaline racing. "So who are you guys?" You asked in between breaths. Standing to your feet a bit shakily. "We're Clone Force 99," one spoke. "We call ourselves the Bad Batch, I'm Hunter, this is Tech, Crosshair, Echo, and Wrecker." You nodded a bit. "Thank you," you murmured. Them all giving you a questioning look under their visors, and you were sure of it by the way Echo and Tech tilted their heads. "For helping free me."

Tech nodded. Approaching you, helping steady you as you swayed. "You can some with us, least we can do for you helping us." You looked to the others, and they all nodded. "Got any family?" You frowned. "No." Everyone was silent at that. "Well, it's settled then, Tech, Echo, help them to the ship. Cross, keep a look out for any guards or clankers. Wrecker, help me carry the cargo." Hunter spoke, causing you to weakly smile. Passing out at some point to the ship.

When you went limp in their arms everyone panicked. Echo and Techs grip tightening on you to help lift your deadweight. "Are they alright?" Wrecker asked, and Echo sighed as the two raced you into the Marauder. "I'd say they're just wore, they look extremely malnourished, I know from experience it's hard to not pass out in that state." Echo informed. Lying you on a bunk, and Tech nodded. "They aren't a clone, either, so I'm shocked they kept standing as long as they did."

You were fine, really, but Tech and the others took turns watching over you while you rested. Water and rations next to the bunk you rested on. It was Crosshairs turn for the night to keep watch. Make sure if you woke up before they got back to Naboo to return the cage that he could explain where you were. Keep you from panicking, or so they hoped.

You were beginning to sweat. Eyebrows creasing, hands balling into fists at your sides while you dreamt. It was hardly a dream, more a reply of your past. Your family. Watching them die before you. Held at gun point. Bags over there heads, blaster shot to their foreheads. Out of your parents and four younger siblings, you were the only one kept alive.. 'This is what happens to slaves who don't listen! '

You jerked up with a startled sob. Hands clenching the sheets. Feet scrambling while you looked around. Chest rising and falling in a quickened pace as your eyes darted around the dimly lit room.

Crosshair looked up from polishing his gun at the commotion. Setting the rifle and cloth aside. "You okay?" He asked, he wasn't too confident on what to ask. Other than that. Watchibg as your head turned to look at him. "Who are you?" You asked with worry. He was about to question you, until he remembered you hadn't seen them without their helmets. "It's crosshair, you saved my brothers and I from the mines." He explained. You calmed slightly at that. Licking your lips, then looking down. "Oh okay," was all you spoke.

You both sat there in silence for a bit. Your hands relaxing. Now resting in your lap as you leant against the wall. Attempting to steady your breathing. "There's some food and water for ya." He motioned to the small table beside you, and your eyes darted to it. You were starving, you didn't get to eat today before the alarms sounded. Raching over to take the rations and water. Dowing them both like you'd never eaten in you life. Which sometimes it felt that way.

Crosshair watched with a small smirk. "Hungry, little one?" You felt a bit self-concious at his words. Only nodding slightly as you took a final sip of the water. Then placing the tray back down next to the bed.

"You have bad dreams often?" He questioned, and you looked down to your hands. Fiddling your thumbs as you nodded shyly. "Sometimes, yeah.." he sighed at that. "I can lay down with you," he joined, causing you to glance over to him. Watching as he stood and approached where you were resting. Taking this time to notice he wasn't in his armor anymore. Only his blacks, which gave you a better image of his body. As the fabric hugged his skin.

Your heart was racing. Squeezing your hands together to keep them from trembling. You hadn't had physical contact in so long, even the offer of it intimidated, but also excited you. "You don't have to," you told him, and he shrugged. "It'll help us both."

You scooted over as he began to climb into the bed. Pulling the covers over the both of you. The two of you sinking down to lay on your backs with small sighs. "You this nice to every new comer you come across?" You asked. Turning onto your side to face him. Cross turning his head to look at you with a small shrug. "Maybe I am," he gruffed. Making you smile a bit. "I doubt it."

Crosshair didn't respond to that. The room falling quiet again. "You get bad dreams too, then?" You blurted, and he exhaled. "Yeah," you nodded a bit. "Do you ever.. Dream about memories? Bad ones?" You asked. Playing with the fabric of the pillow, and he nodded again. "I keep dreaming about my families death." You admitted, and he looked over to you. His expression unreadable, but his eyes screamed worry. "Does it ever stop?" You asked. Voice cracking.

He thought for a moment, then licked his lips. "Somedays." You felt a little better hearing that, you guessed. "Sometimes they're worse." You frowned at that.

He looked over, catching your look of disappointment and displeasure. Turning to his side to reach out for you. It was weird for him, touching someone he barely knew, but you seemed like you needed it, and something about you struck his interest. He saw part of himself in you.

"Hey, I’m not going to leave you, not now, not ever. You’ll never have to suffer alone again.” He reassure. Rubbing small circles into the small of your back. Causing you to stop breathing for a second. Processing what was happening. "But you tell aby of my brothers about this, I'm leaving you in the streets of Naboo." You smiled faintly at that. Unsure if he was serious or not, but you could hear the hint of sarcasm in his voice. You hummed, curling up closer to him. "I won't."

[nightswithkookmin]

Hi Goldy, JK was bold in the past, around 2017-2019 (to me, gcf & rosebowl can be considered as ‘coming out’). But it seems he now prefers to stay closeted? E.g. he snatched JM’s hand in the Xylitol x BTS shoot, then looked at the camera. Holding hands is normal among members… a lot of his interactions with Jin, V and other members are more intimate than holding hands… his reaction makes me feel like he wants me to pretend I didn’t know…?

Sorry I've been a bit AWOL lately...

I'm busy being the man of my woman's dreams in a cis het anti black capitalist world

Fun times.

I saw that bit, uWu-ed and kept it pushing.

It's nothing new really. I think a few months back when I was out here screaming Jikook are toning down, acting super professional around the cameras yadda yadda people out here were looking at me like I'd lost my two delulu heads- but this segues into that theme for me and since I've exhausted the topic I don't know what else to add.

I've said before they've both been very conscious of the cameras within certain periods post October- again nothing new, they be like that every now and then every season every phase and the whys will always be up for debate in these ship streets- on that subject, I've read a lot of opinions yet I think like mine better and will stick to it. Thanks Kimberly of Delulu precinct. Walk along now. Lol.

Jimin was like that during the Coway behind the scene shoot too when he noticed the cameras and quickly elbowed Jk to draw him away from the gaze of the cameras.

I don't think it's because they stopped being 'bold' or want to pretend. It takes a lot of courage to even pretend or even perform the gay in front of the world and your peers. I think they are just awfully aware and conscious of the people they work with as well as corporation's growing awareness, intentions and interests in them. You just never know which saessang is moonlighting as a brand PA or marketing director for a company they are working with. You just never know who is watching especially whenever they have to work with these 'outsiders.'

Think of Dispatch. Were they not allies or business partners, they'd be careful around them too if they worked with them. Know what I mean?

Toning down and exercising caution is necessary sometimes. I don't know why some people think that's absurd or Tuktukkerish when I say stuff like that. Especially with the kind of reputation they have as a ship and just how commercially attractive that image is. It's common sense at this point if you ask me.

Jikook sells. Argue with the analytics. I don't know who thinks they don't. Must be the clowns and penguins. They sell period. BigHit knows this, BTS knows this, companies know this. We don't scream Jikook is a brand within a brand for no reason.

And a lot of the toning down in recent times has perhaps inadvertently mitigated that growing power and demand of them as a marketing resource- who knows, that could have as well been by design, intentionally instigated for obvious reasons which I argue is the case but don't mind me. I'm delusional, gay and apparently the man of my woman's dreams uWu. Gotta wear that pants in my relationship. Ayaya Hwaiting.

When you say he prefers to stay closested- I thought they are both closested already?? They both have never been fully out in our opinion. Yes our opinion because I feel we are like minded. Let's be delulu mates.

On the topic of closets, I want to save that for a separate post. What I can say though is they are both growing and maturing and learning and unlearning. Jungkook's desire to 'come out' or act reckless with his glass closet in my opinion stemmed from him placing more value on his personal happiness over other values perhaps because he was young and hadn't fully grasped the full and complex nature of happiness or understand the privilege he has as part of BTS.

We make decisions based on our values most times. It's how I make sense of their actions really. I'm more likely to assume things that are consistent with the values they each have expressed openly and tend to reject any theory that contradicts or is inconsistent with those values. A guy who values his career is less likely to act in a way that puts that career at risk. And I'm well aware their values evolve over time.

These days he has never quit as one of his mottos next to rather dead than cool- do you see the contradictions in those values? Rather dead means quitting life. Yet now he says never quit. Don't mind me. I'm in a grumpy mood.

But what I'm saying is, the desire to want to show the world who this person means to him is not fixed or a priority all the time. Now i think he values his career a lot more than before which means he is more likely to compromise and less likely to do things that may put that career in jeopardy.

Transferring that to his relationship, I don't expect him to be breaching the glass closet anytime soon. And if he do, it might be incidental and may carry with it consequences which I believe he is well aware and concious of now. Will that change? You bet. Again it depends a lot on what his values in a given moment are and which ones he prioritizes.

It's their relationship. They chose which aspects of it they want to share with the cameras. Some of it get written off as fanservice. Fair enough. But the nonfanservice passing moments has always been questionable- although I must say, I find all Jikook moments and interactions questionable lol.

It's just skinship. Holding hands I mean. Why would he be conscious of that right? II'vetalked about consequences and repercussions of their actions. Sometimes I think it's the off screen scolding that gets to him. The ones silently whispered at his back. I mean we saw his reaction when Jimin was getting scolded by the hyungs for sleeping late. He's talked about skipping sleep too if I recall correctly. Jimin is hyung and I know the hyungs expect him to know better and do better. I'd Imagine Jimin would equally scold JK if his actions reflected poorly on him too.

So why the hell would he not say anything to Jungkook for posting on his birthday when he hadn't posted at all for any hyung's??? Sigh.

It's sad his guards are back up- but it's for good reason I believe given the context of the situation.

I don't think dramatizing his dynamic with Jimin makes him bold. Nor does Jimin's propensity to over express himself with Jungkook mean he loves Jungkook more than. Both are extreme takes for me.

Nevertheless, I contrast that moment with a Tae Kook moment which is one of my favorite tuktukk moments. In this moment, JK is staring at Jimin, his whole body turned towards him. Tae notices the cameras and draws JK's attention to it. I think there are two such moments like that from the recent contents? I don't know I have to cross check.

Tae in that moment reminded me a lot of Jimin. Jimin does this too- play out their relationship infront of the cameras to the point one might say he likes to show off their bond- which is such a BTS thing to do too so no big deal. I mean they like to show off their bond and chemistry as Tae said a while back.

It's one thing for JK to hesitate to act with a member because of the cameras, it's another for him to act self conscious only after the fact.

And JK has always been him like this with Jimin as Jimin used to say- JK acts different with me off cameras than he is on camera. He had a history of suppressing himself around Jimin owing in part to his personality

He's talked about putting on a mask around people and in a recent interview Jimin have talked about pretending and acting one way when he's not- I mean I've ever talked about the boy being in love with the Maknae being a facade- one of many.

They have public personas which, from what BTS themselves say, looks slightly different or similar to what we see on screens- or that they've grown to be more like what we see on screens.

I guess what I'm getting at is that 'pretending' isn't exactly a new thing or out of the ordinary. Personally I'd say he's being conscious of his surroundings like Jimin was and not that he is 'pretending.' If you know what I mean.

If he's pretending he has good reason to I believe and we can only speculate on that- we can't know for sure why.

If Jikook is fanservice then there's no need for either of them to worry about the cameras picking up on their interactions or who's watching them.

What goes on in Tae's head? I wanna know.

I don't know where to direct this post because you didn't really ask a question.

I'm fine thanks for asking. I'm really fine. I'm thinking of joining Jimin in the gym at 3am to bench press and build some biceps to match my role in my relationship😒

And no I don't need any advice. Keep it.

This is going to be my attitude until we switch back😐

I'm gonna be a boyfriend from hell and a blogger from satan's ass.

Also I think I overshare💀

GOLDY

[morceauoleander]

its interesting to me that anyone would be confused as to why Loboto would be so terrified to give up information about Gristol because Gristol “isnt psychic” as if being psychic has anything to do with terrifying anyone? as if any kinda mental block in loboto’s head had to be created by gristol??? it make sense to me that Loboto is a very vulnerable person due to his issues and its very relatable to me with my more delusional, psychotic mental health symptoms. because its very possible to get someone in loboto’s position to think a threat like Gristol’s is very real.

i also kind of have a headcanon that any kind of mental barrier stopping the psychonauts from getting info was actually a dissociative barrier which is a common coping mechanism for people facing traumas they do not want to explore. it is seens as a defense mechanism so that the person does not re-expose themself to trauma- it is not often a concious decision to do so... and considering loboto’s other trauma i can imagine him throwing all terrifying things behind a sort of barrier in order to cope, including the actual details of gristol due to it being tied so strongly to fear and manipulation.

(also i may be misunderstanding some wording from the game in regards to why loboto wouldnt talk but my point still stands about ppl thinking something about it was unrealistic if they keep attaching gristol to the cause of blocking out loboto's ability to give up info. im also on the theory that gristol hypnotizes people cuz you dont need psychic powers for that!)

[ruinsofxerxes]

Nikki i just hurt myself :( i was thinking of Ed as a dad and with your post abt him being i good dad i pictured his face when thinking “i wanna be a dad like hughes”. Like him just making a concious decision to be an even MORE doting dad bc he loves hughes and gracia so much and now i have FEELINGS

STOOOPPPPPPP IM EMOTIONAL!!!! Imagine him seeing how hughes is with Elicia and realizing just how wonderful a dad can be and realizing he could be an awesome dad one day but doesn’t let himself have hope because he think he’ll be search to fix his mistake all his life.

Then, years later, the day Winry tells him she’s pregnant, he goes out and buys their first camera.