#just stole old tags like a pro

[sunnymainecoonx]

Y'all remember this thing apparently? Erm at some point I continued on the concept but erm it's still just concepts I don't actually know sh about sky guys I'm a fake.. oh and thanks to Kevin for some help with some designs.............. uuurrrggghhhhhhh im I'm dying guys

Been playing sky lately so

Anyways, these designs and drawings are very wonky aslo including the fact the originality of each design is stupidly unbalanced

IF I make an actual AU for this I will definitely change the designs but y'all have this for now

[prettyboykatsuki]

fuck your inhibition. | k. bakugou

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah, life is so unfair to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your head is throbbing. Fuck it hurts. 

You only manage one sentence before promptly blacking out. 

“Did I die and go to heaven?”

— 

You wake up in a familiar bed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatcha makin’ old man?” 

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

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

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

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

“Not granted.” 

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

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

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

“That why you’re back here?” 

“For about a week, yeah.” 

“Confidential?” 

You shake your head and lean back. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shoot him a glare. 

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

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

“Learned from the best.” 

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

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

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

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

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

He stiffens, then sighs. 

“Still hung up on that, huh.” 

Oh now you’re gonna get pissed. 

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

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

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

Man this sucks. 

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

Seriously, where’s his decorum? Prick. 

“Kid.” 

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

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

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

“Get outta my way.” 

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

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

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

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

“Kid.” 

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

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

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

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

“Spare me the goddamn lecture.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But…that wasn’t what you got either. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He widens his eyes as you stalk towards him.

“The fuck are you—“

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

This time he goes silent. Fucking bullseye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 He looks like a pornstar,

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

“You’re so fucking sexy.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Liquor and cigarettes.” 

“Since when do you smoke?” 

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

“Hngh, fuck. Fuck you.” 

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

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

“You sound, shit, so fucking sure.” 

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

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

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

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

“You’re shitting me.” 

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

A thought crosses into your mind. 

“Hey. Old man. Where is it?” 

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

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

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

“Go lay down.” 

“Are you telling me what to do?” 

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t say anything like that.” 

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

He frowns at you. 

“In the same drawer.” 

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

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

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

“Somethin’ catch your eye?” 

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

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

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

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

“Are you serious?” 

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

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

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

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

“Haah, fuck. What the fuck?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck off.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you offering?” 

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

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

“So fucking weird.” 

“Is that a no?” 

“Do whatever you want.” 

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

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

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

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

“You’re too cute for your own good.” 

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

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

“Not really.” 

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

He looks like a fucking cherry. You laugh. 

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

“Would you shut up?” 

“I don’t feel like it.” 

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

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

You want to see everything. 

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

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

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

He looks scandalized. 

“Not bad. You eat clean huh.” 

“You’re going to kill me someday.” 

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

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

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

He looks at you exasperated. 

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

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

“It makes you sound your age.” 

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

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

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

“Not if you say it like that.” 

“Having trouble there?” 

“You piece of shit.” 

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

“Fuck, c’mon just, help me already.” 

“What’s the magic word?” 

“....Please, you worthless asshole.” 

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

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

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

“Keep your legs up for me, yeah?”

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

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

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

“Right there?” 

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

“Y-yeah.” 

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

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

“I’m not happy about it either.” 

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

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

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

“You’re not gonna though.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you know how you want me?” 

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

You laugh, tapping his ass lightly. 

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

“Don’t wanna see my face?” 

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

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

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

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

“Save your smooth talk.” 

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

He snorts “Real poetic.” 

“I barely graduated school, asshat.” 

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

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

“Shit. Look at you.” 

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

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

“You like that?” 

“Shut up.” 

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

He groans. 

“In your fucking dreams.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“C-c’mon. Just. C’mon.” 

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

“Fuck. Just. Fuck me already.” 

“I am fucking you, though?” 

“You know what I mean!” 

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

He groans, dropping against the pillows again. 

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

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

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

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

This knocks the wind out of him. 

“What?” 

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

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.” 

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

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

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

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

“In your dr—oh, shit.” 

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

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

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

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

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

He’s got to be fucking with you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” 

Where the hell is this dudes class? 

“Fuck.” 

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

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

“Not yet. I can take care of it.” 

He clicks his teeth.

“No way. Come ‘ere.” 

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

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

“Been like this for four years.” 

He flushes. 

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

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

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

He snorts “Got it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Got plenty more if you want it.” 

“We should clean up.” 

“You’re not kicking me out?” 

“I’m not a villain, damn it.” 

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

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

“Get some rest you brat.” 

__ 

You wake up in a familiar bed. 

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

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

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

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

“Morning grandpa.” 

“You fucking—if you don’t sit down.” 

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

“Whatcha making for dinner.” 

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

“Sounds healthy.” 

His ears turn red. 

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

You couldn’t smile more if you fucking tried. 

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

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

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

You nod.. 

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

“We just. We have to be careful.” 

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

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

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

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

“....You’re not pissed?” 

You laugh. 

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

“Forreal?” 

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

He gives you a look. Bullseye again. 

“You two keep in touch?” 

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

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

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

“Just shut up and eat your chips.” 

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say.”

[grapecaseschoices]

OC in 15: Kendis Crawford-Louel

rules: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

I was tagged by @deepinifhell and am woefully delayed in getting on this.

Tagging: @thedeadthree @thee-morrigan @nat-seal-well @nightingalesighs @laufire @lusavors @cypresswrites @thelittlestspider @mt07131 @roxaro @quaxorascal @tuomniia @andthatisnotfake @sunshineandviolets @sapphic-story [tagged fifteen peeps! i think! and as always no pressure!]

Most of the dialogue from old rp stuff repurposed for this meme, some from unposted stuff, and a few I made up for this. (As warning: some cussing)

-----

1] However, strangeness of the situation proves that the metal gates aren’t fully down around the castle, because she bites out, bluntly, “No! No. I’m not okay.” Her breath hitches. “Don’t. D-don’t follow that up with another question. I thought we talked about this.”

By ‘we’ and ‘talked’, she meant the time she summarily shut down his last attempt to dig deeper. It should’ve been obvious by now that Kendis didn’t like accepting what they insisted on dishing out.

-

2] "Yook, Kenny, yook!"

"What'm I lookin' at, teeny tyke? --- Well, now. Look at that! Is that me? In fact, I know that's me. That's the second prettiest person in this entire art of prettiness. And is the one right next to me you? It's got to be 'cause that's definitely the prettiest person in this."

"You siwwy, Kenny. Boys not be pretty!"

"Am I? Well, if you're sayin' that's right then I'll consider it. But being silly doesn't mean I'm wrooooong~. Boys can be very pretty, kiddo. People can be whatever they wanna be so long as they're --- kind, yeah? And you're the kindest, prettiest, most talented teeny tyke, I've ever known. Oh, now you're laughin' at me, huh? Well, Ima show you 'bout that teeny brat."

-

3] "Who invented white allosexuals, like for real? Someone return this woman to sender."

-

4] "We're not even four days into a fucking New Year and this shit stain is stinkin' up the place."

-

5] "And I get that it's different things for different people. But I rather lose a place, than lose the people that matter with it."

-

6] "I know you've probs been lied to lately. But you're really not cute."

-

7] "He obvi picked bad pics on purpose, you Italian booger."

-

8] "I'm like Siri. Except better looking, smarter, much louder, and not an AI slave to a hegemonic hell-hole that stole the name of one of the best fruits. Like ever."

-

9] "Um, excuse you. I'm not reckless. What 'bout me screams the self sacrifice type?"

-

10] "Hey. Hey! Look at me! That's it ... slow breaths. I've got you. Do you -- you're okay, slowly ... Do you remember what I told you last week? Just nod. I've got you. I've got ya. You remember this? That's my pinky. We pinky promised -- the biggest and most bindable way to lock in a promise, yeah? And you may not know this about me, but I don't make promises that I can't see through. I said you're gonna be okay. And I mean that. I'm gonna make it happen, okay? I'll -- I'm here now and I'll be there at the end. Prommy, prommy, prommy, prommy, pro -- oh, a laugh, huh? Ha. That's what I like hearing. Leave the worryin' to me, dude."

-

11] "If this human version of a mutated ingrown armpit hair follicle don't get up off my face in the next 10, 9, 8, 7, …."

-

12] “Ow! Fudging snowcaps! That bitch hur –” They stopped mid-yelling but simply began complaining underneath their breath.

-

13] "I'm --," Kendis gestured sharply with their right hand as if orchestrating their feelings or encouraging Morgan to jump in. Not that they gave her much of a chance when they quickly added, "You know."

"You're?" Morgan smirked, "You know? I don't think I do."

"Yes. You do."

"Nah, nothing's ringing a bell."

"Well, that's probably all the brain damage you got from the last fight."

"Right. I remember that. The fight where I got stabbed instead of you."

Kendis' nostrils flare and their jaw clenches so tightly Morgan almost feels a sympathy twinge in her own teeth.

-

14]

“Then why won’t you tell me you love me? Maybe a little reward so I can be brave?”

“‘Cause a face full of kisses wasn’t enough? Wow.”

“Sure,  it was nice but this is a big deal. I think I deserve a bigger reward.”

“Aren’t rewards for after you actually do the stuff?”

“You’re right. How about you say ‘I love you’ just because you do!”

“You look cute when you pout an’ you’re gonna be late.”

“Please, Kendis? We’ve been dating for a while now and … That is – Unless – You don’t.”

“I don’t what?”

“You know you are always avoiding it, saying how you feel about me, and you’ve never come close to saying the words .. and sometimes I’ve wondered … I’ve been very patient the last several months –”

“Then keep on with that.”

“Okay. Okay. Kendis. Do you love me?”

“Can we talk about this later? This ain’t as black an’ white as you’re making it look like.”

“But it is.  It is a very black and white question with a very black and white answer. Do you love me?”

“Austyn. Austyn? Stop that! What’re you doin’?  Don’t. You’re – fuckin’ –”

“These are the notes I wrote you. Look at them. Look how far they reach on your floor. Look!”

“No”

“You never even wrote it back. I kept saying it and writing it and you never gave anything back … B-because … because you don’t.”

“I never gave – We’re not doin’ this right now. Again. Why’re you doin’ this right now? We don’t even have the time to really get into -”

“What is there to get into?  It’s yes or no,  Kendis! If you say that, then it will be all settled.”

“Maybe stop cuttin’ me off an’ let me speak.”

“You cut me off first! And don’t you start raising your voice at me!”

“You started that shit first, yourself! What is with you?”

“Why are you acting like I am overreacting? I’m not! It isn’t wrong to want to know whether or not my best friend is in love with me. It isn’t wrong to know if you really see a future with us together or if you’ve been just tagging along because I’m one of the very few other out girls in school.”

“You called me your best friend.”

“What?” 

“You should know how I feel. You say I don’t give you nothin’ back but that’s a damn lie an’ you know it.”

“Then why don’t you say it? I say it all the time!”

“But are you really meanin’ it?”

“Uh - Wha – EXCUSE ME!?!!” 

“Are you? How can I say those words to someone that's not a sure thing? You talk a lot about a future that ain’t here but what you really got to say for the now.”

“Wow. Asshole.” 

“Takes one.”

“Fine. Don’t love me. I think it’s best if we take some space right now and reconsider our priorities.”

“Austyn. I didn’t mean – Austyn this is silly.”’

“Is it?”

“Why're we even doin’ this right now? What about the formal?” 

“Don’t call me unless I call you.”

“Austyn!”

“Don’t.”

“You know what? Fuck you.”

“Apparently not even in the next few months, asshole.”

-

15]

Kendis narrowed her eyes but forced herself to take a deep breath, “You. Bumped into. Me!” Honestly, that was a generous and kind assessment. If Kendis had been human, she doubted she would’ve been able to stand with only a headache and a bad mood to show for it.

“Yeah, because you slowed down when you weren’t supposed to! I was keeping pace with you, speeding by the way, and then allva sudden –”

“I know you’re not blaming me for any of this, let alone your speeding, you Stranger Things reject.”

“Excuse me?”

Kendis felt that anger again – no, they could almost taste it. It was just wafting off the air from the shifter in front of them. It was churning up their stomach like sick, this anger that wasn’t their rage.

It was restless, like her’s was, but was also too hard, too cold.

Not right, not right. The warning blared in Kendis’ gut. Something was off and they needed to leave.

“Don’t!” They warned when the person reached out to grab at them, clearly making Kendis ready to skedaddle. The sharp yell struck out like a roll of thunder, loud and final enough to make this person hesitate, before Kendis’ voice dropped into a growl, “Don’t. Touch. Me.” [x]

[vibratingskull]

Yandere!Thrawn x f!reader part4

Part 1, 2, 3

tag : Yandere behaviors (duh), gaslight, blood drinking

“Enter, enter” you say, pushing the door “Watch your steps, I didn’t tidy the entrance in a while” you put the light on and throw your coat on your sofa. “All is well,” Thrawn says.

He observes. Silently, he takes note. So this is your home, the heart of your world, your nest, the shell of your intimacy. He visits without your consent, walking from room to room, like he owned the place. You’re soon his, so it's as is… As you’re rummaging through your kitchen he rummages through your room, smelling your pillows, opening your drawers, caressing your clothes, mentally noting your favorite brand of perfume and toothpaste. He sneakily takes your used toothbrush in his pocket, that will go with him! He looks under the bed, searching for treasures, and oh? What’s this? Your old drawings folder? He smiles to himself, how adorable! He absolutely needs to look through it.  He looks at your pictures on the wall, photos of you and your family, your friends and… Your lover. You’re circling his waist with your arm, pressing him against you with eyes full of love.

When did you take it? When did you escape his surveillance?

He’s gonna need to turn the screw with you.

“You want something specific to eat?” You call from the other side of the apartment, “Anything will do!” He gets rid of his coat and comes admiring you, leaning on the doorframe, you’re in an apron, getting busy with some spices and vegetables. He tilts his head, enthralled. He imagines you doing it in your shared apartment, with a round, full belly and a little one at your feet. He can’t help but smile.

“What?” you ask with an embarrassed smile, “Nothing. Do I not have the right to smile?” he says innocently, “Yes, but you were fixing me so intently… It’s a bit embarrassing” you laugh. “Let me help you” he takes an apron for himself and starts cutting the vegetable expertly.

This…

This is what he truly wants with you. A lovely team for the everyday grind, stronger than any storm.

And he will have it!

He would kill for it

He already did…

You cook side by side, laughing, nudging at each other. You quickly step back once you realize he completely beats you to it, braising the meat like a real butcher and cooking the vegetables in a grand flame like a pro! “You’re a Grand Admiral and you can cook? You’re good to marry, young man. Where are all you suitors?” you laugh, he just grins thinly at your comment, pouring the hot sauce on the dish.

You have a great cutlery collection! The one he has in hand is light, with a long sharp blade, he find the way it cut the flesh of the meat exquisite. He definitely gonna stole you this one!

You eat the result of this cooking session in the living room. It’s delicious, he really is talented! Under the table his foot brushes with yours and you start playing footsie with him, teasing him a bit. He remains stoical, but secretly his heart beats faster.

“It’s getting late, what do you think of a movie to end the evening?” you inquire. “I will let you choose, I am going to clean the table.” Anything to ease your life! But as he comes back to the living room he sees you sighing in front of a hologram of your dead lover. What?!

Why are you still attached to this poor bastard? He’s dead! Move on! He fighted and lost, Thrawn came up on top! Why can’t you see that instead? Why can’t you see all that he does for you? All the little attentions he gives you, all the privileges you get on the Chimaera… He can’t believe it! His hands roll in a fist, exploding the glass he holds in. “Dear maker, Thrawn!” you shout, startled.

You’re gently holding his hand, getting the glass shard out of his palm with tweezers and dressing his wounds. He doesn't flinch despite the pain, but inside he’s fuming: this is your real place! At his side, taking care of him but you’re so blind you don’t realize it… A part of him is profoundly annoyed at that and the other part refuses to precipitate things, wanting his declaration to be absolutely per.fect. and how he imagined it. But the bitter taste in his mouth doesn't disappear. 

“There you go! All cleaned up and dressed!” you bring his hand to your face and kiss his bandaged palm with a sounding noise and a large smile like you would do a child. The tip of his fingers graze your skin as he lets it fall to his side. Oh how he would love to kiss this smile, to shatter everything between you and feel your lips on his. 

It would probably break your heart to pieces and sever your relationship more than anything else, but damn the urge is strong! It is a basic instinct he fights everyday at your side, but he comes out victorious everyday because he plays the larger game, the endurance race and not the sprint. It is a game of patience and he is a very, very patient man, used to the hunt.

But the bitter taste remains

He turns and turns on his sofa bed, ire bubbling under his skin. At some point he can’t take it anymore and sneaks into your bedroom, a firm hand on the handle of the knife he stealed from you. 

You’re just here, sleeping peacefully, fully trusting the man supposed to sleep in the next room and in the security of your own home…

Tonight that might be your last error

He grazes the blade across your skin. It is so simple, you’re defenseless, all it would take is a quick slash at your throat, or rapid stabs in your chest. In fact he imagined more than 15 ways of killing you… more or less quick, more or less painful. But in each he irremediably joins you in death, holding your body. 

It is easy for him to spot the artery, even in the dark of the room. He lets the blade dance on your skin, adding and relieving pressure here and there… 

Should he do it? Settle everything here and there, get over this whole situation once and for all and minimize the suffering while it is still possible? He tastes the bitter savor in his mouth again, seeing you again in front of that holo, blind to his suffering and desperate love for you.

It’s infuriating

It’s intolerable

Why must he suffer like that? Why must you hold his heart and toy with it like you do? How can you be so heartless and cruel?

He raises his blade… Aims at your heart… Hold his breath…

And froze.

In your sleep you took his hand and brushed your cheek in his palm with a satisfied sigh. He remains still, waiting for something. But you keep sleeping, squeezing his hand. He closes his eyes, mentally berating himself.

How could he do this to you?

He lowers his knife and brushes your hair, moved by this sight. He may be a hardened warrior and a chiss, but he still has a heart. Saying you like that strangely makes him think of Che’ri, of how trusting she was when she slept. He tilts his head, observing you.

His ire subsided considerably. But not totally. 

He must punish you still.

He slices your skin in your neck and watches the blood beading and running across your skin. It is a very shallow cut, not dangerous, just painful. He towers over you and takes a sloppy lap at your wound. With the flat of his tongue he drinks your warm blood, letting the metallic taste invading his mouth. It is not unpleasant, far from that. He licks your skin clean, avidly putting pressure on the wound to make you bleed more and drink again. He continues until he feels calm and in control again. He should keep a vial of your blood on him at all times… just in case…

He opens his mouth wide and grazes your delicate skin with his long canines, pondering if he should bite down your flesh and draw more blood…

He kisses your wound and pulls the cover over you. He enters the bathroom and observes himself in the crude light of the bulb, shirt open, panting, eyes crazy, blood smeared across his mouth and hair disheveled. He tuts. You got too much control over him, young lady, and that won’t do! 

He slicks his hair back, buttons his shirt and meticulously cleanses his face. He brush the blood off his teeth with the stolen toothbrush, savoring the taste and heads towards the kitchen to clean the knife. He sees himself on the shiny blade as he wipes it with a towel, he looks into his shiny red eyes, lost in his thoughts. 

He takes advantage of your sleep and takes your cardkey, passes on his coat and goes for a walk. The air is fresh and the night’s deep. He walks in silence in the poor neighborhood, ignoring the misery around him and the traffic he guesses at the corner of each street. He will need to relocate you soon he notes, he can’t have you in this environment. He duplicates your cardkey in a store and then heads towards the lower, poorer floor of the city. He walks seemingly aimlessly in the dark street, not at all worried for his security, palpling his knife in his pocket.

He finds a burning barrel and admire the fire, the flames, the power… He throws your papers and debit card in the barrel and watches them burn slowly.  A hooker comes next to him, smoking a cigarette and laughs “Vengeance, great face?”, “In some way…” he whispers hypnotized by the flame, “What happened?”, “She cheated on me.” , “Oh! A love affair!” she laughs harder, clearly not sympathizing with his situation, “Yes…” His eyes keep on the dancing fire “She’s mine. But she doesn’t know it yet…”

@bluechiss @blueninjablade3 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics

☆Tag list

[chaos-monkeyy]

Pretend-tagged by @badwolfbadwolf 😁

do you make your bed? - eh, sometimes

what's your favorite number? - 101 (for vaguely similar reasons to 69 being in second place)

what is your job? - that's classified info I'm afraid

if you could go back to school, would you? - fuuuuck no*, I've served my time (*unless it was for like, a really good writing course. I would do that specifically)

can you parallel park? - yes indeed, and on either the left or right side of the street no less 😎

a job you had that would surprise people? - I have no idea what would surprise you people or not 😂

do you think aliens are real? - in the sense of alien invasions, conspiracy theories, space-probe kidnappings and little naked dudes in UFOs? No. In the sense of "through sheer mathematical probability, there has to be life elsewhere in an infinite universe at some point" yes, but who knows where and when and what that other life would actually be like.

can you drive a manual car? - depends if you're picky about for how long and what state the transmission will be in by the end of it..

what's your guilty pleasure? nothing, I don't feel guilty over pleasure okay FINE it's doing silly quizzes and picrews, you got me.

tattoos? - a few and someday I will have morrre.

favorite color? - Red followed by black and silver.

favorite type of music? - anything with a good solid beat, just about. My tastes are ✨ eclectic ✨

do you like puzzles? - Yessss yes yes yes. Love.

any phobias? - a few but I'll keep the details off the wider internet I think 😂 a couple are fairly common, another I've never heard of anyone else having in quite the same way.

favorite childhood sport? - hockey (of the ice variety, for those who need the qualifier)

first thing you wanted be when you grew up? - funnily enough, I'm pretty sure it was pro- hockey player 🤔

do you talk to yourself? - oh yes, a lot. Sometimes out loud, mostly in my own head.

what movies do you adore? - ermm off the top of my head and in no particular order: the original theatrical release star wars trilogy, Tucker and Dale vs Evil, The Impostors, Muppet Treasure Island, the old school classic How the Grinch Stole Christmas movie, Emperor's New Groove. There's more but I'll leave it there because I am sleepy.

coffee or tea? - coffee my beloved. But I also enjoy a nice cup of tea ☕

--

If you want to do these, consider yourself tagged by me! 💙

[kakusu-shipping]

for your mha s/i

🩺Doctor: What is the worst injury that you/your self-insert has sustained in canon? If so, what was the cause and did you recover? What was your f/os reaction?

🔥Flame: Do you/your self-insert have an enemy? If so, who is it and why are they so hated? What was a particularly heated moment between you two?

@i-put-the-s4p-in-s4pphic

I actually have FOUR My Hero Academia Self Inserts, none of which I've talked about sense I stopped watching the show a while ago... So to make up for it I'll talk about all four of them!!!

Thankyou so much for your ask!!!

🩺Doctor: What is the worst injury that your self-insert has sustained in canon?

Hero - Luckily a lot of his injure have been pretty minor compared to Taishiro's. Not to say he hasn't been injured, both as a Hero and a Pro Baseball Player, but nothing that really stands out as too impactful. Taishiro plays it tough but he's a big ol worrier when someone he cares about gets hurt, so he'll fuss over Gumball if he so much as sprains and ankle though.

Villain - Complete opposite of Gumball, he's sustained so many Critical Injuries it's rather difficult to pinpoint on of importance. AFO found him both easy to fix and rather entertaining to break. When he started living with the League his rate of injury decreased, but the amount of worry increases. Jin especially freaked out when he as so much got a paper cut.

Student - This S/I is still sort of a WIP but if I were to guess, his worst injury would probably be something caused by the Hero Commission, probably while tagging along behind Hawks for training, before he was adopted by Nezu. He probably doesn't talk about those times much though, so neither Nezu nor Ojiro know about it.

Civilian - This S/I is also in WIP even though they're the oldest MHA S/I I have, they're probably the least finished just due to proximity to a Main Character combined with how far behind the series I've fallen. I image they might be injured during the War Arc for some reason but.. That'll just have to wait and see. Sorry for the non-answer!

🔥Flame: Do your self-inserts have any enemies? If so, who is it and why are they so hated?

Hero - Less of an enemy and more of a Rival; He and Shishido don't get along, much in the way Shishido and Gang Orca don't get along. It only got worse after he stole one of Shishido's Interns, Shoda, after a HLB match. He thought the kid made a good pitcher, what can he say!

Villain - MANY. Comes with the Villain territory. While he never actively met him, he does share the rest of the League's hatred for Kai Chisaki, both for killing one of his son's beloved friends, but also for being responsible for his brother's death. He was also the one set to keep eyes on the UA spy, and while he doesn't consider them enemies, he wouldn't be surprised to find out they think of him as such. He wouldn't blame them for it, either. (he's also constantly ready to throw down with Endeavor, though the opportunity never presented itself)

Student - Like Nezu probably the Hero Commission in General is Enemy number 1 to him, but the one person he puts the most blame on is Hawks, just do to proximity. Nezu's tried to convince him Hawks is like them, a victim of the Commission, but that's a hard pill to swallow when you're 14 years old and were constantly threatened if you couldn't keep up with someone twice your age. He'll probably be bitter about it for a long time.

Civilian - His wonderful beautiful person son, Neito Monoma's, parents. He's of course, very polite and calm and put together on the outside, but they drive him crazy. That's his perfect son boy boy son. They don't appreciate him like he does. If there wasn't an active war going on he'd fight them for custody and win. Neito pretends not to see the cracks in his not-legally-adopted father's patient smile.

[shadowshrike]

FEW3H NPC Analysis Pt. 3 - Countries outside of Fodlan

We all know that Fodlan has a fraught history with its neighbors. Claims of invasion, impending war, and forced isolation by the Central Church have made a mess of discussions about foreign policy by fans of the games. So in 3 Hopes, what prejudices and reconciliations do we see between Fodlan's general populace and those outside their borders?

This analysis takes a look into how citizens of Fodlan feel about various foreign countries through what the NPCs say. Sreng, Duscur, Almyra, Morfis, Dagda, and Brigid are all mentioned at least once by generic units throughout the camps in 3 Hopes.

Disclaimer: This is just for fun. The data was manually tagged & compiled, so may have errors. Also, counting was weird for this one, so %s might be off. Dataset used

Analysis Background

Sentiment was split by foreign and domestic army members for all but Scarlet Blaze, where there are no NPC foreigners in your camp. The Tragedy of Duscur also got a separate category because it's a major negative event people mention, but the NPCs do not necessarily equate that to Fodlan or Duscur being evil.

Summary

Sreng is viewed completely negatively on all paths because there's both a language barrier and generations of invasions from them, much like Almyra before Nader swapped sides. You'll notice Almyra has similar negativity attached to it. For those who need more context, I've detailed Sreng's history and common misconceptions that have been disproven in 3 Hopes at the end of this analysis.

Scarlet Blaze NPCs largely don't care about the world outside Fodlan, though they're aware of international trading. Golden Wildfire NPCs mostly ignore foreigners or only talk about them being a threat. Azure Gleam NPCs dislike Sreng for their invasions but are making massive strides with Duscur.

Scarlet Blaze

Unsurprisingly, Scarlet Blaze doesn't talk much about other nations since it's primarily focused on domestic affairs, and Brigid's promised 'new relationship' is kept secret. In the small amount of text it does have, it mentions Morfis and trade routes across the sea that seem to be well-established.

Golden Wildfire

Despite the focus on Almyra early in Golden Wildfire, it has the least amount of awareness or positivity shown by NPCs about foreign nations. Of the positive comments we get, the two by Fodlan natives are about Tiana's story (which they think is a fairytale) and rumors of Nader being both horrific and kind. It's noted that Almyran NPC(s) follow Fodlan rules because Nader says they need to, but all Almyran voices and mentions disappear entirely after chapter 12.

There is also no mention of Almyra by Fodlan NPCs after Chapter 9, nor of sharing cultures or trusting or hating them at all. Some members of the army are pro Sreng attacking the Kingdom (their enemy) when that happens in Chapter 12, going as far as saying they should have told Sreng the Margrave was dead, though that plan was shot down by Claude.

Azure Gleam

Azure Gleam is relatively meaty when it comes to foreign relations, featuring both the restoration of Duscur and ongoing Sreng raids potentially orchestrated by Cornelia. Their one mention of Dagda and Brigid is negative because it mentions the old war, not because they dislike the people from there. Since Petra is an optional recruit, all talk of her spearheading Fodlan relations as Queen is locked to her dialogue.

There is a notable amount of culture-sharing going on with Duscur from both sides in Azure Gleam. Naturally, the positive sentiment is somewhat stronger from the Duscur Generals than Kingdom soldiers, since the Duscur troops are volunteer-only and can self-select away from the Kingdom army.

Regarding Sreng

There are a lot of misconceptions around Sreng and Faerghus' relationship due to 3 Houses being unclear regarding who owned what land when. This has led to most people in the past (myself included) believing that Lambert stole a bunch of land, causing Sreng to attack them in retaliation.

New textual evidence in 3 Hopes suggests they are NOT attacking to 'get back land' from modern Faerghus. It is likely that, while still an aggressive act, no part of Sreng was annexed in Lambert's campaign. Sreng has been raiding raided Fodlan for 300+ years with no change in border.

Per the ingame description of Sreng:

"Sreng was once the name of an enormous peninsula to the north of Fodlan. Today, only the northern half has kept the moniker, while the southern half now falls under the dominion of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Several warlike clans call this great wasteland their home. Certain areas of the region are comprised of rocky desert."

Yes, "Sreng" used to refer to a peninsula to the north of Fodlan. However, you can see from the map that the full peninsula includes not just Gautier, but Fraldarius and Blaiddyd territories as well.

You could argue that the peninsula here doesn't refer to the whole thing, implying the Gautier lands near the border were 'stolen' recently, but we can see that's unlikely from the "Military History of Partholon":

Harpstring Moon, Year 892 The Sreng people mounted a large-scale invasion. They crossed the Ruska Mountains in the north and descended south into Faerghus. King Banfig built a string of strongholds along the north of his domain, from Blaiddyd to Fraldarius, including Conand Tower.

Wyvern Moon, Year 895 Having finally forced Sreng to retreat, Faerghus was in position to counterattack. However, Sreng's resistance and the harsh, snowy conditions caused them to abandon their attack. Thus, hostilities drew to a close. After the campaign, a young and fierce general by the name of Laetitia Zoe Gautier, royal knight and descendant of the elite hero Gautier, was widely praised.

Great Tree Moon, Year 896 Banfig confers the northern part of his territory on Laetitia. She is given the title of margrave and tasked with defending Faerghus's border. Laetitia sets to work strengthening defenses in the north, constructing strongholds throughout the Ruska Mountains on the border with Sreng, and reclaiming the Lance of Ruin from the Church of Seiros.

If you map out this history, it implies Gautier territories have belonged to Faerghus since at least 896 in the least-generous reading. In the most generous, the fact Faerghus failed to counterattack Sreng in 895 means that land was already Fodlan's when Sreng invaded in 892. It is entirely possible, given what we know about Nemesis, that the peninsula was actually split during his time, although there is no concrete evidence of this.

At least 10 generations of hostilities with no land exchanging hands is supported by other in-universe factors as well. Most notably, that Sreng and Faerghus didn't have any language sharing until Leif was taken, which is highly unlikely for territories conquered within the last generation.

Leif himself said his raid was necessary for his way of life, perhaps a reference to Sreng's resource poverty or culture, but not that the Gautiers stole his land.

Don't hate us for this! Our way of life hangs in the balance!

He also says:

This payback has been years in the making, Gautier! Hahahaha!

But that doesn't necessarily have to refer to any sort of land exchange. More likely it relates to cultural or personal history.

Per the "Military History of Partholon" :

Horsebow Moon, Year 1169 The Kingdom Army is progressing northwest through the peninsula, but while engaging the Sreng chief Oleg and his forces, a gigantic beast suddenly enters the fray. It lays waste to both sides. Lambert sustains grave injuries, and Oleg disappears into a ravine. Oleg's son offers his own youngest child Leif as a prisoner to House Gautier to broker peace.

Leif was a war prisoner from the nation that had killed that Margrave Gautier's wife, and yet was raised by him. At that point, the Margrave was known as the Wall of Ice and had given up on peace between their peoples. He was notorious for being a great general, but a poor, cold father to even his blood sons. Seeing how Miklan and Sylvain were treated, it's natural that a prisoner of a hated enemy like Leif would grow up resentful of Faerghus, and specifically, Gautier.

Unfortunately, there is still a large loose end in Sreng's recent history. We still don't know why Lambert's campaign happened - vengeance for the Margrave's wife? A deterrent counterattack to stop the ongoing raids? A failed attempt to conquer? What we do know is that Sreng has been raiding Faerghus for generations, before and after it, continuing a cycle of mistrust between their peoples.

[nickelkeep]

Can you explain your tag and the connection between dee snider and Pepperidge farm if you have the spoons? My curiosity is so piqued.

Sure! So both you and @thefirsthogokage asked me about this.

First, the Pepperidge Farm tag is in reference to the old Family Guy joke:

As for Dee Snider, in 1985, the Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC going forward) was founded by Tipper Gore, amongst others, in order to force more censures on music. While there's always been satanic panic, etc., involving the music scene, this was possibly one of (if not THE) biggest pushes against music. (Also - as a side note, this is one of the largest reasons I hate Mike Love from the Beach Boys because he helped fund the PMRC.)

So, as I mentioned, upon their founding, they decided to try and demonize music and made a list of songs known as the filthy 15:

Yeah. I just put on She Bop to listen along to as I write this. (Source and more info on Wiki HERE)

Anyway, later that year, Parental Advisory Logos were introduced. Before that, they held a Congressional Meeting.

They had three witnesses testify that songs like these glorified sex, drugs, violence, suicide, murder, name your choice of an ill in society, etc. They also accused music of dumbing down our society (another side note. One of the 'pro' witnesses called Elvis Prestley innocent. YEAH.)

The three contesting witnesses were Frank Zappa, Dee Snider, and John Denver. Talk about a group, amirite? What they didn't expect was how well-spoken and educated these three men are/were. By letting those three in, they thought that they had a surefire case to force MORE censures on the music industry.

Needless to say? It backfired.

This is Dee Snider's full thirty-minute testimony in front of the PMRC. If you don't have that kind of time, just google Dee Snider Senate Hearing.

Yes, he came in full glory. Bright blonde permed hair flowing loose, sleeveless shirt, jewelry, painted nails, tattoos showing. The only thing that could have been more over the top was if he came in stagewear.

John Denver and Frank Zappa also stood their ground and provided well-thought-out speeches, answered their questions, etc. But Dee Snider stole the show. He prevented so many censures that the PMRC wanted to place on the music industry. Because people doubted him because of the way he looked.

He always has and always will fight against so-called 'traditional values' because one person's values do not equate to everyone else's.

[pessimisticsarc]

OLD HOLLYWOOD AESTHETICS.

ENGRAVED CIGARETTE CASE

romantic evenings, golden hour, vintage furniture, darks and neutrals, beautiful perfumes, candle light, charcuterie boards and expensive wine, capsule closets, minimal makeup, throws the best cocktail parties, a city dweller.

CONVERTIBLE

makes each day fun and exciting, always planning a trip, not afraid of getting lost, uses a tote bag or backpack everyday, takes the best photos, plane tickets as bookmarks, picture frames all around their home, many stories to tell.

DATEBOOK

clean and organized, chic yet sensible, usually takes leadership, never falls behind, good at public speaking, strong and well-developed opinions, gives the best advice, fountain pens, tweed coats, hardcover books, hangs out in the library.

VANITY

puts on makeup just for fun, names their pets after flowers, photo shoots around the house, collects vintage trinkets, casually researches skin and hair care, buys books for the pretty cover, drinks fruity and floral teas, a weekly bath night.

SUNGLASSES

quiet and private, has a secret spot, always a little distracted, daily yoga, infused water, a collection of healthy recipes, looks for shapes in the clouds, collects seashells or minerals, prefers sunrises, makes comfy clothes look fashionable.

FUR COAT

goes shopping everyday, ice cold exterior, would never talk about their problems, lives alone and loves it, thinks romance is fun but not essential, luxury vacations, black coffee, stays up late, quietly loves gossip, exclusively wears heels.

MARTINI GLASS

goes to parties, acrylic nails, loves to flirt, friendly and social, aesthetic chameleon, a playlist for every mood, wants to try everything, far too many clothes, always the center of attention, seen as intimidating but actually really nice.

A LITTLE PET

gets excited on sunny days, gives the best hugs, fiercely loyal, falls a lot, not easily embarrassed, makes everybody laugh and feel loved, ice cream cones, picnics in the park, blowing bubbles, pro-stickers, a complicated coffee order.

HAIR BOW

playing footsie under the table, looking for shapes in clouds, likes fireworks, hums romantic songs, dances alone in their room, constantly makes up stories in their head, loves to eat sweets, uses many colored pens and highlighters, always cheerful.

Tagging: I stole this, so now it’s your turn.

[ohimesama]

12.19.22 Monday

10:24 am

Uncle Jun told me to text Uncle DD so that Uncle DD will explain everything on RV...

Hmm....Again, angels I don't have a right to decide here even Uncle Jun or My Grandmother. We are just following the order of Aunt Teresa coz they wanted a sharing of bills...

I have aching pelvic or my sciatica still and some aching lower belly,I know due to stress...Heavy stress...

2:46 pm

I feel stress... I need money and I wanna buy starbucks everyday.....Fake people on that cult of ManaloZ!

5:14 pm

Uncle Jun went out somewhere ,I don't know... RV was in the kitchen awhile ago, cooking something and suddenly commented that you shouldn't off the breaker of the lights coz it is damaging to the cables and wires or will be damaged...

I said I wasn't the one who ordered that but Uncle DD and it was ordered by Aunt Teresa and Uncle Jun ordered by Uncle DD, to off the lights breaker of RV...

Once again,whoever angels are here... I don't decide for this and not my ideal life here but I know I have to work....I need money and I need to get a job in a lil while....

Oh! Meeting upper friends are not yet the right time... But longing to have them.... I just need time and personal space and self-fulfillment...

8:02 pm

I hate the windblow cultish of ManaloZ....Since 2007 hahah playing safe people...

One thing for sure I hope to be with the Al-MaktoumZ, my favorite Prince there...

I feel self-pity....Wanna leave the hometown... Wanna see donkey and camel...

10:21 pm

Waiting for someone, a girl space friend... Will try to do something for her and still waiting for an answer... Just sound tripping, in spite of the bitterness... Watching official music videos to relax my mind... Am I having a heartache??? Or stress....I hope God can extend my life... Or is it my costochondritis due to stress, anxiety due to this windblow trap and thinking of money...

Checking the old "yahoo chat" wow! It is still here... I remember this yahoo chat,the first on-line chat virtually during college days before new application came up like doing live streams in Tagged, Kuma, Live-Pro etceteraZ...

I feel bitterish...I feel jealous of women that I don't know... Part of that cult who stole my life since 2007 and took away my xfactor, my love life and my social life...

I need money and I want starbucks everyday... Shit! Still,having sciatica pain.... Oh! I need money... I need an adjustment... Whew!

10:50 pm

Hating this windblow cult of ManaloZ! I really feet fat and ugly... I need a self-fulfillment....I need time for myself... I need a job, I need money and want starbucks everyday... I miss having friends.... I miss having xfactor!

I lost all my old friends... I want to meet more upper friends in the future coz I have an ugly situation now... I feel hurt!

I wanna be with the calmer side of the world where I can be with beautiful faces,like seeing the brighter side of the earth, sitting with donkeys and camels...

11:23 pm

Marry me??? to the calmer side of the earth wiith donkeys and camels...

[marblecarved]

old hollywood aesthetics.

rules: bold or italicize what applies. please repost, don’t reblog ! 

engraved cigarette case: romantic evenings, golden hour, vintage furniture, darks and neutrals, beautiful perfumes, candle light, charcuterie boards and expensive wine, capsule closets, minimal makeup, throws the best cocktail parties, a city dweller.

convertible: makes each day fun and exciting, always planning a trip, not afraid of getting lost, uses a tote bag or backpack everyday, takes the best photos, plane tickets as bookmarks, picture frames all around their home, many stories to tell.

datebook: clean and organized, chic yet sensible, usually takes leadership, never falls behind, good at public speaking, strong and well-developed opinions, gives the best advice, fountain pens, tweed coats, hardcover books, hangs out in the library.

vanity: puts on makeup just for fun, names their pets after flowers, photo shoots around the house, collects vintage trinkets, casually researches skin and hair care, buys books for the pretty cover, drinks fruity and floral teas, a weekly bath night.

sunglasses: quiet and private, has a secret spot, always a little distracted, daily yoga, infused water, a collection of healthy recipes, looks for shapes in the clouds, collects seashells or minerals, prefers sunrises, makes comfy clothes look fashionable.

( faux ) fur coat: goes shopping everyday, ice cold exterior, would never talk about their problems, lives alone and loves it, thinks romance is fun but not essential, luxury vacations, black coffee, stays up late, quietly loves gossip, exclusively wears heels.

martini glass: goes to parties, acrylic nails, loves to flirt, friendly and social, aesthetic chameleon, a playlist for every mood, wants to try everything, far too many clothes, always the center of attention, seen as intimidating but actually really nice.

a little pet: gets excited on sunny days, gives the best hugs, fiercely loyal, falls a lot, not easily embarrassed, makes everybody laugh and feel loved, ice cream cones, picnics in the park, blowing bubbles, pro-stickers, a complicated coffee order.

hair bow: playing footsie under the table, looking for shapes in clouds, likes fireworks, hums romantic songs, dances alone in their room, constantly makes up stories in their head, loves to eat sweets, uses many colored pens and highlighters, always cheerful.

tagged by: i stole it from the amazing @spynorth !  tagging: you ! if you see this on your dash and would like to do it for your muse, feel free to steal this from me ! 

[whitemask279]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ Howdy, welcome to my world ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

My name is WhiteMask, but my friends call me Lys (I don't have an actual name at the moment, a fae stole it) I am Brazilian 🇧🇷 and go by They/Them pronouns.

I been using Tumblr for a while (no, idk how it works yet) I mostly lurk around in fandom spaces and like Art and fanfiction. (Headcanons goes brrrrr)

This means English is my second language so sorry for any mistakes. My old @ were "The girl with a white mask" but I'm not fully a girl anymore 👀

This is a pro LGBTQIA+ safe space

TERFS, Acephobes and MAP's fuck off

Don't be shy please interact with me...~

I'm an artist but I never draw so... If you wanna see just my formal works, unfortunately Instagram is your best bet, but if you stay here in the hellsite (affectionate) you will get my brain root sketches and shitposts.

I draw my OC's and comics (mostly sonas) and fandom stuff

I will try to stay organized and tag everything so you can find my stuff quickly

My main OC's/Sonas

My Avatar

Lunari Engels A.

Milady (Pokémon)

Myah [?] (Fursona)

Minecraft Sona

Rhodochrosite (Steven Universe)

Midnight Harmony (Ponysona)

Fandoms I participate

Genshin Impact

Minecraft

MCYT

Pokémon

Undertale / Deltarune

Steven Universe

Critical Role

Vocaloid

K/DA

Joel G - Ena

Vr Chat

Detroit: Becomes Human

Last but not least...

My other social medias

Facebook

Twitter

Tik Tok

YouTube

Koo

Ko-fi

[warsofasoiaf]

It is definitely true that voters by and large don't care about foreign policy, which is a shame because it's one element where the executive branch (and the President in particular) has an outsized role in crafting. Unfortunately, Walz is largely unimpressive here. Walz offers the tired "however long it takes" line on Ukraine, but seems unwilling to discuss pushing forward the expansion of the defense industrial sector to crank out military materiel that would enable a Ukrainian victory. And lest anyone say "he's a governor, that's not really his bailiwick," I'll point out that he has discussed agricultural partnerships with Ukraine. So whether it is or not, he seems to be looking at stage four when we're still in stage two. He's better than JD Vance who seems to all but salivate at the idea of Ukraine being put under Putin's thumb, but I'm sick of "however long it takes" when the real issue is "however much it takes," especially when that "much" has such a positive ROI.

But Walz does have one thing really going for him that I undersold him on - he's a hardcore YIMBY. While federal policy has a small effect on housing (his efforts to push for single-staircase apartment complexes is laudable though), he has the basis to push for energy policy in a big way. Unlike a lot of clean-energy progressives, Walz is pro-nuclear power which is very welcome. If we want a feasible and effective energy transition, we're going to need nuclear in addition to renewables along with investments in batteries. The infrastructure plans we've put in place for EV chargers have been massively expensive and have put few chargers in play. EV's are already unpopular due to the price tag, but without plentiful chargers, they're going to be out of reach for the majority of Americans. Walz appears a whole lot less interested in *talking* about energy as opposed to *building* a new energy infrastructure which is very good.

Economically, he strikes me as a guy that's going to engage in protectionism. Given how aggressively he courted the United Steelworkers endorsement, he's almost certainly going to act to block the Nippon Steel deal which is a victory for the rent-seekers and a loss for the US economy as a whole. Hopefully I'm wrong on that, but I doubt that I am. Permitting reform at the federal level is a different beast than at the state level and the stakeholders who benefit from slow builds and dysfunction are different. So here's hoping he doesn't have much impact on economic policy, or he takes a better turn instead of seeking out the narrow interest of his donors.

On the campaign trail, he looks to be injecting a strong sense of optimism. Pretty much every observer says that the campaign energy has changed within the past month and Walz is definitely a part of it. The actual turnaround is truly remarkable, this 2024 election will probably be studied for the sheer reversals.

But that being said, he made a pretty big gaffe a few days ago when he said: "one person’s socialism is another person’s neighborliness." I understand what he was probably trying to do - resurrect the old Harry Truman line when he was giving his speech in Syracuse in 1952. However, Walz has two problems on this regard. The first is just timing - socialism was in the public eye recently because Maduro blatantly stole an election in Venezuela and is at this very moment jailing protesters and opposition figures. Even if Walz didn't mean to sound like he was defending Maduro's electoral fraud (and I'm certain he didn't), it comes across as remarkably tone-deaf at best.

The second is, well, frankly, he doesn't have the credibility that someone like Truman would have. By the time of Truman's speech, HST had forcefully articulated the Truman Doctrine for almost five years in fighting for European sovereignty free from the Soviet Union. By contrast, progressives have been whitewashing bad behavior for socialist politicians for a long while now - Bernie Sanders compared Ortega's shuttering of opposition press exposing the Sandinista killings of the Rana and Miskito people to shutting down Nazi publications, Jeremy Corbyn was feted by the Squad even after being expelled by the Labour Party for championing anti-Semitism, Chavez and Maduro were darlings even as they sponsored terrorism in South America and drove their countries into economic ruin. It doesn't even have to be a socialist politician, the DSA is actively pro-Putin and pro-Xi, to a startling lack of condemnation from American progressive politicians.

To me, that suggests a lack of judgement. Without a whole lot of exposure on the national stage, these early steps matter, and to me, it was a mind-numbingly *stupid* action. It looks like he's falling into the trap most progressives fall into, the reflexive tribal need to defend the cause to assert a sense of superiority. That doesn't inspire a whole lot of confidence.

-SLAL

So Kamala picked Walz. What are your thoughts on the decision and him?

Anonymous asked: What do you think of Tim Walz?

From what little I know of him, I doubt I'd like him very much. I've made no secret of my disdain for economic populism. It's long on babble, short on substance, and heavy on popular-but-stupid policy, so I doubt he'd offer much of anything from an economic policy perspective. Foreign policy-wise, he's fine on Ukraine but doesn't actually push for a revitalization of defense manufacturing to actually win the war in Ukraine's favor. He's soft on China, bog-standard condemnations of human rights that I expect out of pretty much every American politician these days.

The Harris campaign's strategy seems to be picking him as a November vice - helping bolster progressives who might be turned off by Harris and using Walz's brand as a Midwestern Dad to counter claims that Harris is an "out-of-touch West Coast elite." From a policy perspective, Walz has little to offer, so it appears that the Harris campaign is picking him solely to energize the 2024 voting campaign to deliver victory, rather than an effective administrator to be delegated tasks in a victorious administration after.

Whether that's a good idea or not, I can't say - I'm not the guy that the Harris campaign (or the Trump campaign) is targeting for their electoral strategy. Policy is a snoozer, it doesn't turn out the vote. Most people like to say they care about policy, but in the vast majority of circumstances, that's untrue. People vote based on culture and rationalize the economic and policy justifications post-facto. For someone like me, who has no political culture in the modern American political scene, we're statistically insignificant and thus, not worth pursuing from a mathematical sense. So take that bias into account. I'm not a vibes guy, and elections are vibes-based.

Thanks for the question, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[eddieandbird]

Driver’s Test

Summary: Eddie’s teaching you how to drive so you can finally get your license

Warnings/Tags: fluff|short blurb

A/N: idk, I just think it’d be cute if Eddie taught me how to drive -Bird

____

“Okay you’re going to slow down to a stop… slowly, SLOWLY!” Eddie gasps as you slam on the breaks. Your heads whip back, hitting the head rests.

“Eddie, I can’t do this. I’m totally going to fail this test,” You whine, looking at Eddie with a scared look.

“No you’re not. I promised you that we’ll get you driving like a pro and we’re not leaving this parking lot until that happens,” he said as he put a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that you were fine. You put the car into park before covering your eyes and crying. “Hey, come here,” Eddie reached over to hug you.

“I don’t want to crash your van, Eddie. I want to get out,” You sobbed.

“This old thing has been beat up so many times, what’s another ding gonna do,” He chuckled. “You’re doing fine, just apply less pressure to the pedals. You don’t need to stomp on it,” You quickly wiped your tears and nodded.

You turn around and try again. You start off slow, carefully keeping in between cones that Eddie stole from the street nearby to help you practice. When you come to your next stop, you slowly press on the break.

“YES! Do it again, just like that bud!” Eddie claps.

“Was that good?” You beam at him.

“Perfection!” He says as he kisses the tips of his fingers. You start rolling into a turn. “Now for parallel parking. You ready?”

“I uh… yeah I’m ready,” You stumble on your words.

“Okay you’re gonna pull up until the cone is aligned with your shoulder,” He instructs as you pull forward. “Nice, then cut your wheel all the way to the right and reverse,” You follow shakily.

“Okay… I think I got it,” You say as you start reversing. Without Eddie’s next instruction, you start turning the steering wheel to the left as you back in.

“Holy shit are you kidding?” He asks suddenly. You put the car in park out of fear.

“What? What happened? Did I hit a cone?” You spat.

“No dude! You totally just did the most perfect parallel park I’ve ever seen!” Eddie yells back before he takes off his seatbelt and gets out. You follow him to see your work. The van was at equal distance from both the cones.

“Oh my god! I did it,” You put your hands on your hips in triumph.

“See I told you, you could do it,” Eddie cupped his hands around your face and got in close.

“Thank you, Eddie,” You say gleefully before burying your face in his chest and hugging him.

“Anything for you, Kid,” Eddie said as he patted your back.

[winterscaptain]

mom.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: shoutout to aimz for affirming this version of this fic!! i had an image the other day and had to sit down and write it. thank you for your patience as i took a little break this week. 

words: 1.2k warnings: none!

summary: “mother is the heartbeat in the home; and without her, there seems to be no heartthrob.” — leroy brownlow

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

Before you leave the room, you hear Jack call out for you in a small voice. 

“Yeah, bug?” You turn, leaning on the door jamb.

“Can you come back here a minute?” 

You nod and cross the room, kneeling at his bedside. “What’s going on buddy?”

He looks nervous, but you wait him out. He spends a few moments shuffling in bed, wringing his hands, generally looking a lot like his father, but then asks, “Can I call you Mom?”

There’s nothing but static in your brain. 

Recovering quickly so he doesn’t feel rejected, you grab his hands and kiss them. “Can I talk to your dad about it? I want to make sure he’s okay with it.”

Jack nods, but to your relief, doesn’t look disappointed. “Yeah.” 

With a kiss to the top of his head, you tell him you love him. 

+++

As soon as Jack’s asleep, you try to settle into bed, but the photo of Haley on Aaron’s dresser just stares you down and eats you alive. You shake your head and strip, jumping into the shower before it's even warm. 

+++

When Aaron steps into the apartment, it’s quiet and dark, save for the sound of the shower and the sliver of light arcing into the living room from the master bedroom. 

He drops his briefcase at the door and loosens his tie on his way across the room and down the hall. 

Pausing when he gets to the door, he listens. 

Is that….are you?

Crying? 

He trots into the bathroom and finds you behind the glass shower door, curled into a ball under the water. He toes off his shoes and steps into the tub to crouch in front of you, still in his suit, unfazed by the water. “Sweetheart?”

“I can’t be her, Aaron. I’m not her. I’m not his mom I’m not -”

“Stop,” he says. “That’s enough.” He pauses, taking a breath. “Did Jack ask if he could call you mom tonight?” 

You nod and curl further into yourself. “I can’t be her.”

He gathers you into his arms, the shower still running, and says, “You don’t have to. He’s not asking you to be her. He’s asking you to be something you already are.”

You sniff and lean back, looking at him. “What?”

“Come on.” He stands and brings you with him, reaching past you to turn on the water. “Let’s dry you off and get into bed.”

+++

After hanging his suit to drip-dry, he finds you in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. He closes all the doors, turns the lights off, and sits beside you, pulling you up to rest against the headboard. 

You’re both still wet and without clothes, but that doesn’t matter. 

“I just...I froze, Aaron. I didn’t know what to say but I didn't want to scare him so I told him I had to talk to you about it first.” 

He traces your arm with his finger as he talks, grounding you. “That’s okay. I told him you’d probably say something like that.” 

“What?” You lean back and your brow furrows. “You what?”

A little smile crosses his face. “You think we haven’t talked about it? Honey, he’s been asking me about how to ask you for weeks now.” 

That basically takes all the wind out of your sails. “Oh.” 

If you’re honest, you feel a little stupid. Jack’s not the kind of kid to just do things out of nowhere. He obsesses and second-guesses and asks his dad about everything, so the very idea that he asked you out of the blue is as ridiculous as it is out of character. 

To your surprise, Aaron laughs a little. “Don’t feel stupid. I thought it would be a nice surprise for you, but now I’m realizing I probably should have warned you.”

“That might’ve been nice.” 

You can feel his smile when he kisses your temple. “I know, but I wanted him to feel...I dunno. Confident?” He pauses. “But, that’s not the point.” 

You look at him, a little confused. 

“How do you feel about it? I would understand if you’re not comfortable or -”

“No. I’m…” You trail off, feeling a little bad for interrupting him without really knowing what you’re going to say. “I’m comfortable. I just…”

Your eyes wander to the photo of you and Jack and Haley again. She still smiles at you out of the frame, just as she always has. You shift your attention to the one beside it - the one of Haley and Aaron on their wedding day, the one you insisted he keep up after he made an attempt to put it somewhere else after you moved in. 

He breaks your attention with a tap on the back of your hand. “Do you want to talk to her?” 

“What?” 

+++

With a certain degree of amusing theatrics, he threw on a pair of pajama pants, snuck into Jack’s room, and stole the little candle they use to “talk” to Haley. 

When he returns, he lights it, hands you the picture of her from 1997 at the Space Needle he keeps in his wallet, and walks out. 

“Hi Hales.”  

+++

You’re asleep when he returns, the photo loose between your fingers and the candle long out. He watches you sleep for a minute before gingerly tucking you in and slipping the photo back into his wallet. 

+++

The next morning, he hears you and Jack on the couch, talking quietly, but not so much so he can’t hear from the hallway. 

“...I’d love nothing more, my love.” 

“Did you talk to Dad about it?” 

Aaron hears you hum and kiss what he thinks is the top of Jack’s head. “Yeah. I talked to your momma, too.” 

“Really?” 

“Really. You know how much she loves you, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

There’s never enough time for Aaron to really consider how lucky he is. He doesn’t just have a partner who loves his son. He has a partner who loves the mother of his son. 

A partner who understands the weight of “Mom” in the Hotchner house. 

He finally rounds the corner to find the pair of you curled together around a plate of fruit, watching cartoons one low volume. 

“Hi, Dad!” Jack says, grinning up at Aaron. “Mom and I are starting an old show called Tom and Jerry. Wanna watch?”

You suppress a smile as Aaron scoffs, “Old,” and sits beside you, tucking the both of you under his arm. 

You turn to press a kiss to the side of his chest. “I love you.” 

“I love you too...” He kisses the top of your head and says, just for your ears, “...best mom ever.” 

+++

tagging: @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @qvid-pro-qvo @mandylove1000 @jeor @roses-and-grasses @word-scribbless @bwbatta @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @joanofarkansass @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @ssahotchnerr @this-broken-band-girl @winqhster @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @the-falling-in-the-danger @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos

[ginanosakka]

I Hate it Here

Masterlist

We Were Kids | Next

Moving you into Katsuki’s apartment across town took mere minutes, but everyday you spent there felt like years that you’d never get back. Everything felt too big and nostalgic, and the only thing grounding you to keep you from a panic attack, was Ryu being himself despite being pulled from school and transitioning to home school. He was just happy to be around his father all the time, immediately bombarding him with questions about his day the moment that he stepped through the door.

It wasn’t news that Katsuki wasn’t fond of comforting people, and the thought of him begging for forgiveness was laughable — but that brick wall you put up the moment you stepped through his threshold for the second time was driving him insane. When he was around, you were somewhere else in the house on the phone, or on the laptop you purchased and had shipped to his home as soon as possible. On the rare occasion he did see you for more than a few seconds, you looked drained of life. . and scared.

You were tough even when you two were young — the constant picking at you being quirkless might have made you think he thought otherwise, and he wondered if that contributed to your hardened shell now — but there was the rare occasion when something would break through your tough skin.

And it was always your father that did it.

Katsuki practiced his jabs that he tried out in training with Kirishima on the air, trying to make sure every moment was precise to recreate the amount of damage he dealt everytime. You had tagged along after phoning him and asking what he was doing, receiving the usual ‘I’m training and don’t give a shit if you come or not’ that you always took as a very hostile ‘yes’.

Usually, you’d make small noises of approval as he trained, and after yelling about you messing up his concentration but only getting a tongue stuck out at him in response, he had grown use to your annoying presence. Which is why he stole glances at you today when you were completely silent, and he found himself curious about why you didn’t even look at him as he trained. Bakugou was more aware of your every moment than you’d ever know, and he wanted it to stay that way, so he continued to only steal glances instead of confronting you.

“My dad didn’t tell me happy birthday.” There it was. The moment you’d break the silence and spill your guts to him with no coaxing needed from him.

That’s what drove him crazy about you; how you adapted to his pride and made being there for you so easy.

“He had Jun give me my necklace and money when I woke up, and I asked her if he made any plans to see me today. . She said he’s a busy man and I need to grow up. . Am I asking for too much?”

You looked up at him with every ounce of insecurity on full display, the kind of look he hated seeing on your face more than he hated seeing you in those stupid get-ups your mom bought you. Even he had said happy birthday to you, granted it was though text and there was no gift with it, but at least he had the decency to listen when you said that all you wanted was to hear two simple words from the people you cared about. It pissed Katsuki off even more that he knew you told your dad that’s all you wanted, and it didn’t take a genius to know that he didn’t do it on purpose. Now Katsuki had to be the one to pick up your broken pieces.

“Idiot, it’s not your fault that your old man is trash.” He grunted, turning away from you to stare at nothing so he didn’t have to see that stupid sparkle in your eyes when he said something nice.

That damn sparkle made his heart squeeze.

He was relieved to hear your soft laughter, “I guess you’re right. He’s better at bribing people than caring for them.”

If only he could tell you how true those words were.

“Shit.” Katsuki mumbled under his breathe, the realization of what was happening hitting him like a brick.

That day he went to your office, he hadn’t been there just to get a look at what you had accomplished, and the reason he got so riled up by your secretary was more than just being told he couldn’t see you. He had gotten a tip from Tokoyami that morning about a yakuza organization that was deeply involved in many missing people cases, and also suspects for the assasination of small business companies that were expected to outgrow large corporations.

That organization had your picture on the wall, along with pictures of those who were missing, and ones who had not gone missing but were on police watch due to the likelihood of them being taken next. Katsuki chalked it up to you being seen with him when he was a target for many villains due to his success in taking down and capturing villains with ease, and he let the most obvious point go over his head. He had just immediately wen to go see you to calm his nerves, not even second guessing his own answer that tied this back to the one man he had his own hit on.

The organization that had you targeted, acted under powerful businessmen in Japan. .

Your father was one of those powerful businessmen.

‘It all comes full fucking circle,’ Katsuki thought angrily as he picked up his office phone, knowing that he had to get his least favorite heroes on the case.

“I’m not asking you to take sides, I’m asking you to tell me the truth!” You hissed into the phone, and you could feel every ounce of your patience draining from your body and your tone.

It had been three days. Three days since you moved in with the father of your child, three days of feeling anxious and livid, and three days of trying to get in contact with your mother. For once, you could say that the least of your worries was Katsuki, and now it happened to be the life of your child again. You weren’t stupid — the moment Katsuki mentioned your safety specifically being threatened you knew who had put the hit out on you, and he wanted you to know.

It was your father’s way of warning you that if you even thought of exposing that you were his daughter that ‘went missing’,or tell them what he had done, you and Ryu will never know peace again. The knowledge that you were in his sights again and he still was just as ruthless as ever couldn’t even fully register in your brain, but you knew you had to do something. This was your baby’s life that was in danger again, and this time he isn’t living inside of you so you could have him with you at all times. You didn’t even know how to have this conversation with Katsuki when he didn’t even have the decency to tell you there was someone after your son while he sat in school. In fact, you were doing your best to avoid his presence so you didn’t cause a scene and scare Ryu half to death.

And your mother had the fucking ability to help you, and she decided this was the time to wave the white flag to involving herself in you and your father’s war.

“This isn’t something that I can tell you and your father not disown me too for, Y/N! Do you really expect me to risk my life too?” Your mother responded, and your grip on the phone tightened so much that you weren’t sure how much longer you’d have before it shattered.

“Yes! I expect you to risk your life for me, mom! I expect you to be a mother for just one damn moment in your life to save your grandson! If you can’t tell me what he knows and what you’ve told him, this will not only get ugly for him, but for you too!” You threatened with full intention of making it a reality.

“I can-“ as she spoke you heard a male voice in the background that made your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach before the phone went dead.

You paced the floor with a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming with Ryu napping in the other room, but this situation could only be fully resolved with risks being taken. The company you put blood sweat and tears into — you had long since realized you never wanted to start an entire company, but it was the best thing you knew how to do to make money to give your son the life he deserved — was going to have to be put in jeopardy. Your life, and more importantly your son’s life, would be in immediate danger once you decide to wage this war.

It’s father against daughter, and loser loses everything.

“You were really going to go through this again alone? You really piss me off sometimes.”

You whirled around to the door of the guest bedroom you were in to see not only Katsuki, but Eiji also standing there. It didn’t shock you in the slightest how pissed Katsuki looked, but Kirishima’s deathly stare had you frozen in place. Even though you knew in the back of your mind that their anger was towards your father, you couldn’t help but feel weak when two very famous pro heroes had their murderous gazes on full display for you.

“You don’t have to worry,” Kirishima said and flashed you a hardened arm. “No one is going to touch you or Ryu on my watch.”

Katsuki grunted, “I’ll kill anyone that tries.”

(A\N: So who’s ready to see full on angst, romance, and a badass reader? Cause I am ^_^! Also the amount of love and insight you guys give me on this story is insane and I still can’t than you enough 🥺 I hope you enjoy! <3

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