#looks like the kiddos are my last art of the year
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alieneyedcow · 6 days ago
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Childhood Friends
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Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01
Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him
Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList
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Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife
To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award
They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.
Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general. 
I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father
I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids
Thing is, that’s both your faults.
Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own? 
(Your husband is hot okay?)
In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.
I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.
His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.
He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.
He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible
Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.
While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves. 
For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.
But they had to build it themselves.
It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.
Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.
It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)
Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help
(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)
Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.
They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once
Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night
He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills
You had to help out here, no lie.
He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again
He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes
especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies
He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp. 
Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.
You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.
He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles
Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)
"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"
"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"
"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"
If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are
Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.
At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.
His arm is on your waist most of the time.
They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.
He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.
You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!
So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.
It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.
Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.
Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.
He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle
Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.
When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.
Oh no, hugs galore.
Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though
When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp
Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.
I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection
Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)
It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter
His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.
"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"
"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"
Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA
The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result
Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something
Ace is his kids’ hero.
His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.
His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating
You're relieved
Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving
Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better
When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”
Ace loves you so much he swears
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hoshigray · 2 years ago
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Now look here, it's sugardaddy! x sugar baby! reader time >>:3 So here's the rundown: the reader is a college senior who works part-time in a diner and finds out that their favorite customer, Toji, is a sugar daddy and wants to initiate courtship. Although it is a proposition you fail to see yourself saying no to, is this something you can see yourself being in the long run?
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A/n: This prompt was picked on a poll to celebrate getting over 50 followers, only for me to get to 100 right after!!?? Y'all...can I give you a hug? ;w; No, oh okay. Anyways, I won't make another poll, BUT I'll be opening thirsts/requests soon!! >:D I just gotta make myself a disclaimer list before we let those lil fantasies of yours fly, lol. But yeah, this is my first time posting a fic over 1k+, so I hope y'all like it. Also, bonus: there's art drawn by Moi (@hoshigaby)?? You'll have to scroll down to find it tho :33 Okay, I'm sorry, go ahead and read!!!
Cw: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - implied age gap (the reader is in their early 20s, Toji's around early or mid-30s) - mating press - cervix fucking - oral (fem! receiving) - pussy drunk Toji - breeding - daddy kink - overstimulation (fem! receiving) - pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin', good girl, honey, kid/kiddo, mama, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - praise - clitoral play (Toji pinches your clit) - reader isn't a virgin but, it's the first time you and Toji have sex.
Wc: 4.9k
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"Oh look, your favorite is here."
10 o'clock, it's closing time. All the servers and bussers are ready to buss down tables and sweep the floors, hosts at the front split up tips and head straight home, and the cooks clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. All there's left is the silence of the dining area, where not a single customer is in sight.
Well, minus the one Utahime points out to you.
You turn to the bar area, where almost all the tables are empty, and all the high-rise televisions are turned off. All but for one, which was showing a football game.
A man is watching the screen, sitting in a booth at the far end with a glass of beer on the table. He's wearing a black turtleneck covered with a denim jacket, white fur on the collar, and a silver chain contrasting the black clothing. You gaze downwards to his black jeans pants, where his left foot seems to be tapping the ground. He's waiting for someone.
Once his eyes catch your approaching figure, his deadpanned face shows a smile in recognition. He was waiting for you.
And you smile back as you walk towards him.
The familiarity with this man comes from a year working at the diner. His name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's been a regular even before you started working here. And to make things funnier, he was the first customer you served after a week and a half of training. You can recall when you accidentally put milk and sugar in his specifically requested black coffee, to which you apologized profusely ("Heh, it's alright, darlin'" He flashed a smile that was meant to reassure you. "The first time that's ever happened to me.").
It was there that you found yourself being the only person that's served him. At first, you thought of it as some sort of joke after the coffee mishap, but now, unless you're there to take his order, he'll only have a beer or black coffee with all the other servers. The crew often pokes fun at you, stating you're the older man's favorite. And you gotta admit, it makes your heart swoon knowing this is true.
"There she is," Toji watches you approach him with his foot finally stopped tapping the checkered floor beneath him. "My adorable lil' server."
You giggle as you sit on the cushioned booth seat across from him. "It's good to see you, Mr. Fushiguro. I hope life's been good for you." You wave goodbye to the guy behind the bar counter, who turns off the TV still on as Toji focuses on something else. You promised to be the last person to turn off the lights and lock the doors before leaving, so now it's just you and Toji.
"I thought I told you to drop the Mr. Fushiguro, kid." He reprimands you with his playful smile, the right corner of his lip quirking his scar upward. "And I could ask you the same thing. How's college goin', darlin'?"
An exaggerated sigh leaves your system. "It's going alright. Can't believe I'm about to be done after the next semester, but the senioritis hasn't hit me too strong yet, thank God. And I can't wait to graduate with all this debt on my back~!" You flash the fakest beaming smile with two thumbs up.
Toji chuckles at your fraud enthusiasm. "Mmmm, I bet. But I know you're smarter than me and most people who work for me, so I'm sure you'll do just fine."
"Yeah, I'd like to think so, too." Your chipper attitude dwindles, and Toji notices the change in tone.
"What's up? You don't think you'll get yourself a job?"
"Umm, well," You cough to clear your throat from awkwardness. "I tried signing up for plenty of internships. Some of them shut me down, others just haven't replied back. And I guess it's just me overthinking, but I worry that I won't get a job in something I like..."
"Aww, princess," Toji rises from his cushioned spot to move to your side, sitting close to you with his big jean-covered thigh brushing yours. He places a hand on your back to rub comforting circles. "That's just the thoughts in your head."
You groan into your hands. "I know, that's why I don't know why I'm beating myself up about it so much... But it's okay! I know I'll be fine because I still have this job keeping me going for a year."
Toji raises a brow. "You wanna be a server all your life? Wanna serve me my black coffee and BLT sandwich til my last breath?"
You hit his chest in amusement. "Well, no, but if it comes down to it, I don't mind. I'll just take up more jobs or maybe make a side hustle. Either way, I know Mei Mei will help me out. I'm sure everyone here will if they have the chance."
"I could also help you."
Your hands instantly go up defensively. "No, Mr. Fushiguro, I wouldn't want that! I'm sure you're pretty busy, and I don't want my troubles to burden you."
Toji's eyebrows knit together, his sharp eyes surveying your defensive stance. "It wouldn't be trouble if I'm the one offerin' to help you, honey."
"Yes, but even so..." You look at your lap as your fingers dance with each other to ease your anxiousness. "It would feel unbefitting to have a customer — a valuable one such as you — to help me with my financial problems. Seeing you smile at me when I serve you your coffee...I'm perfectly content with just."
Your gaze locks into your fidgety fingers, saying the last part was probably unnecessary. Yet it was true; Toji had always been patient with you whenever he stopped by, even going the extra mile by giving you a seriously generous tip after his meals. You know you didn't deserve it, but he's already at the door before you can argue with him. If his gracious action was just a mere small percent of what he could do, then he's done plenty for you than needed.
Toji, however, didn't see it that way. He hums as he leans back onto the booth seat, his hand now snaking to the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the nook of your neck and trapezius.
"Well," He breaks the silence, you're listening. "What if we take this outside of customer service?"
The brows are pulled together as you turn to him in slight confusion. "What do you mean by that?"
"I've been thinking for quite a while," with his hand maneuvering to rest on your shoulder, he sighs and straightens himself up. "Your manager, Mei Mei, right? I talked with her not too long ago, telling her how much of a hard worker you are and how even while still in school and suffering with assignments, you still smile and make sure the customers enjoy their time here."
You give him a thanks, and he continues on. "Which is why I told her about what I wanna do. So here's my proposition: I'll pay for everything for you. Your debt, bills, clothes, whatever it is your pretty lil' head is worryin' 'bout."
Toji's promise does sound comforting to the ears, but you think about your part in all this. "So, do I have to work for you?"
He chuckles. "No, baby, not working fr' me. But there is something I want you to do."
"Yes?"
Toji doesn't give you a clear answer, staring at your face with a soft smile. You wonder why he's being odd until his face leans forward, and the hand on your shoulder pushes you into a kiss. You let out a yelp into his mouth, but the shock diminishes once you succumb to his warm, intoxicating lips. He tastes like beer, definitely from his drink.
He removes his lips from you, and you faintly exhale in an unsteady breath. "Mmmm, yer too much fr' me, sweetie." Toji groans and kisses down your neck while you place a hand on his chest to grip his turtleneck for support before you dissolve into his arms. And although you shouldn't be at your work at this time of night doing this, it felt too good to end.
"I want you to be with me," Toji says in-between smooches on your neck, moving to paint the other side with his pecks. "You're so good to me, darlin', always being such a good girl." He nibbles on your clavicle, and a soft gasp rewards his eardrums. "Lemme take care of you, y/n."
All that's going through your head is the feeling of his lips on your body and the arousing throbbing sense happening in your nether core.
"Hmm, whaddya say, baby?" His lips are too close to your ear as he playfully bites the lobe. Your thighs rub against one another, and you know there's a wet spot in your panties. "Gonna be my perfect girl?"
If you don't give him an answer quick, you're bound to melt right on this seat, and being a whimpering mess to his touch is embarrassing enough.
"Haaaah...Y-yes," You finally answer in weak whispers, mind spinning and eyes glossy. "I wanna—Ahaaa...I wanna be yours."
You can feel Toji's lips curl into a smile. He lifts his head to look at you, and a hand comes up to cup your face before he gives you a soft kiss on your quivering lips.
"My good girl."
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
A few months have passed since you and Toji formed this new relationship. And getting used to certain things is still a challenge.
For one: covering up your new lifestyle is never easy when you're out with people you know. During winter break, you went to dinner with your friends and offered to pay for the whole table. They looked at you as if you were talking nonsense ("Girl, where the hell you get that kind of money to be covering for all of us?" "For real, is this the same diner you've been working at? Are they hiring?").
Another thing that wasn't easy to get accustomed to was Toji spoiling you. Since you're a college student, Toji only sees you every other weekend when he has time. During those days, Toji doesn't hold back in showering you with gifts and affection. Between the fancy dates in expensive restaurants, riding rides at fun amusement parks, or the bags of new clothes you bring back to your dorm, it was something you didn't expect to happen so quickly. Your roommates constantly tease you about this "mystery man" who makes it known you're his special lady.
But outside of that, the most significant change was you and Toji. To say you two got closer was too easy to put into words. Sure, the money was there, so you could finally get a good night's rest without worrying too much about your school debt or bills. However, you knew this went beyond the dollar bills and the fancy clothes.
Come to find out, Toji knows and remembers things that amaze you. There was a time he bought you a whole wardrobe worth of dresses because he remembered you had to cancel dates with your friends since you had nothing cute to wear. Or the time he got you a box of your favorite teas, even though you briefly mentioned them to him during a talk way back from recollection.
And even away from the materialistic things, you can feel how much Toji loves you. You can feel it in his eyes whenever he's looking at you. You can feel it when you try to argue yourself out of trying an outfit you don't think will be good on you, but Toji coaxes you into it because he knows — not thinks, knows you'll look good wearing it. You can feel it in his hands when they hold yours, when he places a hand on your thigh and rubs it in loving warmth, or when he caresses your cheek when he kisses you goodbye when you two have to return to your own lives.
It's a type of love you didn't see yourself being on the other end of. The more immersed you are, the harder it is to imagine yourself out of it.
Spring break is now upon us, and Toji has invited you to join him overseas for a business trip. You tried to decline, saying it's his trip and you don't want to intrude on his business. That argument was immediately shut down ("Tch, believe me, sweetheart, you're saving me from bashing someone's head in if you're close to me than not. Plus, I wanna see you wear that cute swimsuit I got you."), so he dragged you on his private jet, and now we're here.
During the day is when he's away for work, so you spend the morning either in the penthouse suite you two are staying in, outside taking pictures to show Toji later or looking around at the little shops nearby. Toji is done with work around the early afternoon, so you two spend time together exploring the country, trying new foods, and taking walks around the area while talking about how your day went until the sun goes down.
Everything goes well until Thursday when Toji texts you saying something happened at work and that he'd be at the suite later than usual. Well, it's 7:45, the sun is starting to go down, and Toji is still nowhere in sight. I hope everything is alright on his end.
You're unsure about going outside for a walk on the off-chance you stay out too late. And if something happens to you while Toji isn't close by, that'll give him more to worry about on his plate, and you definitely don't want that for him.
So, you look around the penthouse to see if there's anything to keep you occupied until Toji's return, and then what catches your eye is the swimming pool outside on the terrace which you haven't tried yet. That'll do!
You go to change into a swimsuit, a cute two-piece that Toji bought for you when you two went shopping together. After a quick shower, you enter the pool and enjoy the calm waters while watching the sunset, leaving a beautiful array of colors painting the sky over you.
Tomorrow is your last day here while Toji will do business, and then you're back to school on Monday. The fact that you'll be graduating debt free still blows your mind. Toji really fulfilled his promise and took care of your worries.
Is that to say that your relationship ends once you touch that diploma?
You lift your feet and lay on your back to allow the water to hold you up, ears covered in the water and face looking into the sky as you're lost in your thoughts.
It wouldn't be too far off if Toji wanted to close this whole thing off when you graduate, as the point was for you to not worry about debt and such. That much you understood from the very beginning. But what happens after that? Do you two just go back to being acquaintances that only meet at the diner? And what about the stuff he got you? Do they stay with you forever? And do you have to fight memories of him every time you see them?
What about all the touches, all the hand-holding, all the cuddles, and all the kisses? Are they supposed to mean nothing to you the next time you see his face?
You're thankful for the water keeping you afloat in the pool, but having these thoughts attack your brain just makes you want to sink in loathing.
Until you feel something tickle your feet, having your body react in a state of panic. No longer floating on your back, you search for whatever is torturing your feet. Only to find Toji in front of you wearing black trunks, he chuckles lowly, and your heart sinks in embarrassment.
"T-Toji," You swim up to greet him. "How long were you back from work?"
"For about 10 minutes," He watches you move through the water, following you to sit in the shallow part of the pool for you two to talk. "I saw you in the pool and thought I'd join. I tried callin' out to ya, but the water was blocking your ears."
"Hehe, sorry about that. I was thinking about something. How was work?"
His face went into a deep scowl with rolled eyes, and you giggle at his nonverbal response. "Had I not known I was comin' back here to see you, I'd probably fucked that rookie up."
"That bad?"
He hums and brings you closer to him with his hand on your shoulder. "But don't worry 'bout it. And you? What were you thinking about?"
"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing," your encouraging response is fictitious.
Toji lowers a brow. "Try again."
"No, honest! It was nothing, Toji."
"Don't make me tickle you again, kiddo." You freeze and look at his face. His sharp gaze and slight grin speak for themselves about his seriousness.
A sigh is withdraw from your lips. "I was just thinking about how I'd be leaving on Saturday and being halfway done with my senior year of college."
"And?"
"And, uhh," You gulp and avert your eyes to your lap, your fingers swaying with the pool water. "I was also thinking about me... and you?"
There's silence, the lack of response eating you alive. Then you feel Toji's hand grip your shoulder.
"Are you scared I won't be with you after you graduate?"
He hit the nail because you don't answer for a few seconds. Your eyes still avoid him.
But Toji still persists. "Do you not want to be with me?"
Your head turns to face him in haste, taking you aback at how fast you were. "No! I don't want this to end. I'm grateful for how close you and I have become. I want... I want..." You fall silent once more as your head moves back to your lap as if you'd find the words you want to express lying there.
Using his free hand, Toji grabs your chin to look his way again. "What do you want, baby? Use your words fr' me."
The intense gaze of his jade-green eyes captures your attention, practically daring you to look away from him. The warmth of your cheeks spreads around your face, and you gulp before answering.
"I really appreciate all that you've done for me. And I...I really like you, Toji. I want to be with you." His face doesn't change as you ramble on, causing you to move your eyes to avoid the awkward stare. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to stop with where we—"
Your sentence was interrupted by Toji's kiss, and a squeak was suppressed between the two lips. You exhale in bliss as your hands find purchase on his solid chest. He deepens the kiss when his hand is posted at the back of your neck.
You break the kiss to breathe, Toji's gruff chuckles fills the warm air.
"You're too adorable, princess. Do you really think I'd want to let my precious girl away from my sight?" You open your mouth to interject, but Toji lifts your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. "Listen here, darlin'. I didn't offer to take care of your debt on a whim. I adore the fuckin' shit out of you, and I was gonna wait til your graduation to ask if you'd still want this thing to be official."
"But now that I hear you're interested," his big hand holds yours, fingers intertwined as his thumb brushes your forefinger. "Are ya up for it?"
You breathe slowly to ease your heart, beating at an irregular tempo. You grip his hand in return and offer a sheepish smile.
"Yes. I'd like that very much, Toji."
He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Good girl." Toji has his arms placed behind your back and under your legs. Then he stands up while picking up your figure bridal style. He grins hard when you squeal in surprise as your arms sling around his neck.
"Let's shower," he walks out of the pool and into the suite. "And then afterward, I'll show you how much I've been itchin' to make you be my girl for real."
The heat on your face grows tenfold, and Toji barks a laugh when you hide your face. You can only mentally pray for yourself for what's to come.
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
That little prayer did absolutely nothing!
Now you're lying on the bed nude and wet from the shower as the water droplets on your body slide down to the satin sheets beneath you. Your hands cover your mouth, trying to suppress the moans and sobs from exiting your lips.
And the cause of this is the man currently nestled between your legs. You can see the raven hair between your inner thighs, but you feel a wet muscle lapping around your vulva. The lewd noises of Toji eating you out fill the room and has you writhing in discomfort, and you try to slowly move your lower region away from his ravaging mouth.
"Aht aht, you're not goin' anywhere, mama." Toji's rough hands grip your waist and pull you back down, his nose brushing your clit as you jerk upwards. He lifts his head to look at you, and the image of your slick smeared all over his mouth and chin almost makes you faint.
"Put those hands down, baby. Let Daddy hear that sweet voice of yours." He uses one hand to play with your pussy, middle and forefinger abuse your inner lips as his thumb grinds down on your sweet bud. Your eyes shoot up for the stars, and you're forced to do what he says, hands gripping the sheets while your cries are out for him to hear.
"Aahhhh!! Haaah, T-Toji!! 'S too much, too—Ooohh!" His tongue returns between your cunt, licking and tasting the sticky fluid coating your pussy. Your eyes are watering, your mind starts to feel dizzy, and your legs can't stay still to save your life. He's been doing this for 15 minutes!!
You clutch his hair and wail out his name in pleasure, earning a moan from Toji as his grip on your thighs gets tighter.
He can tell you're close to finishing, so he helps you. His tongue slides from your wet center to your clitoris, licking and sucking on the extremely sensitive bud, his teeth lightly pressing down on the pearl.
Your release comes instantly, and your walls spasm as you cry in pure euphoria. Your head pushed deep into the pillow below you, letting your body finish reacting to the climax. However, Toji doesn't wait for you when his mouth drinks your essence. His tongue attacked your sore velvety walls, having you gasp for air.
When he's done, he finally withdraws from between your legs and kneels before you, taking in your disheveled figure. Your tear-stricken face and hooded eyes peer up at him as he wipes his face of your excess come, licking the rest from the back of his hand.
Toji snickers hoarsely. "Sorry, sweetheart, you tasted so fuckin' good I couldn't help myself. Besides," you watch his hands trail down to his dick as he places himself on your messy vagina. "Gotta get you prepped up fr' me."
He puts a pillow under your lower back to raise your hips more. Seeing his dick for the first time has you in mental turmoil. Toji notices you looking and sneers, pulling your hips to him so his balls practically kiss your opening, his dick on full display on your lower abdomen. The girth alone has your cunt pulsating in anticipation, and good God, the length of that thing. It's not the first dick you've seen in your life, but it's definitely the biggest challenge you've come across.
I hope those 15 minutes of prep were enough.
You come back to your senses when you feel the tip of his hefty member circling the corners of your folds, and your slick aids him as a lubricant.
"Ready, babygirl?" You exhale a nervous breath and nod for confirmation. "Okay, we're gonna start real slow."
Toji began to push the tip in, your folds being spread open to accommodate the foreign object intruding into your tight hole. You close your eyes and hold your breath, the pain worsening by the second. You take one breath, and Toji pushes further. With another breath, he goes further. Another-
A giant gasp takes over you as the tip of Toji's cock enters you. And Toji takes his time pushing himself further into you, using every fiber of his being not to rut into your tight walls off the jump.
"Haaah, hmmm, oh fuck," That's easier said than done with you gripping onto him like your life depended on it. Once he's pushed his whole cock into you, your words come out as a babbling mess, gripping his arms for support. He looks down at your disarranged self, chuckling at such a wonderful sight. "You look really fuckin' sexy layin' under me, baby."
"God...Toji," Tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the pain down south. "'S too muuu-ch, too big for—Hnnngh!!" A sudden thrust of the hips has you biting down on your bottom lip.
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"C'mon now, I thought I told you about that. I already let it slide once or twice." Toji places your legs on his shoulders and leans close to you, his body weight adding onto yours as the base of his cock grinds into your sex. "What's my new name, mama?"
"Ah!! I'm sorry, Daddy." The title comes through sobs.
Toji grins from ear to ear, wiping your tears with his calloused fingers. "Good girl," he kisses your forehead as you adjust to his girthy length. "So fuckin' pretty fr' Daddy." He takes your lips with his soft ones before moving his hips in a slow yet rough rhythm.
The mating press has your body submit to him, taking in his cock as it sinks deep into your swollen core. And it only gets worse when his pace gets faster, hitting your sweet spots accurately. At this rate, you're bound to cum earlier than necessary.
Then you feel his tip abruptly touch your cervix, and the wail you let out is picked up by Toji's ears. "Oh? Think I found what I was lookin' for." His hips grind deep in you, his tip abusing your poor cervix to the point you speak in tongues. "Feelin' good, princess?"
"Fuck, Daddyyyy, please, I'm-Ahaaah, Ohhh!" His irrational pace has your brain turning to mush, his cock bullying your insides. The sound of his balls slapping against your squelching folds has you squeezing him harder. "I'm gonna cu-cumm!!"
Toji hisses into your ear, the tone of his voice dominating your senses. "Oooooh, don't grip on me like that, sweetie. Gonna end up — Mmmph! Shit, shit, shit, shit...Gonna give you a baby."
You reach to cup his face through watery eyes glazed in a haze. "Please, Daddy, I want it," You know you're talking nonsense, but why care when you're feeling this fucking good. "Inside, I want it, inside!"
"Heh, be careful with what you wish for, mama." He kisses you again as his hips become erratic, and he moves a hand to your clit and pinches it, whining into your mouth when you're cunt clutches onto him one final time.
You cum around his cock and push your head back on the pillows, your gushy walls spasming around his length, prompting Toji to cum inside you after a few more thrusts. You two moan into each other's mouths, riding each other's high until your bodies calm down.
The two of you pant heavily once the kiss is broken apart, and his deep emerald orbs take in your dazed expression. He smiles when he notices drool on the side of your mouth, using a thumb to wipe it off for you.
"My sweet darlin'," Toji kisses your cheek and sighs deeply into your embrace. "You're too good fr' me, baby."
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
"Did I say that I want your babies?"
You're resting with Toji, your head relaxed on his chest as you sit between his legs. The television in the bedroom plays an episode of a sitcom, anything for you two to look at and enjoy a moment of peace together.
He snickers at your question, his chest rising and falling as you lay on him feels nice. "Yeah, you kinda did."
"Wow, that sex must've screwed something up in my head."
"Yeah, my dick had you wanting to risk it all." He snorts when you playfully hit his arm. "Don't worry, we can find some plan b in the morning."
Turning to face Toji, still watching TV, you furrow your brows. "We? What about work?"
"I have tomorrow off. It's your last day, and I don't feel like going back to work, or else I'll be sour all fuckin day. Much rather spend it with you than with some morons."
You look at Toji for a little longer before you smile and kiss his cheek, catching the older man off guard as you nestle into his warm body. "Thank you, Toji. For everything."
The thanks carry a deeper meaning. Not a single ounce of doubt clouds your mind now that you've gotten the closure you wanted. Thinking about how your life brought you to this moment, you're happy with your decision to pursue this relationship and more. And it's thanks to this man for making it possible.
Toji still stares at you before he scoffs and kisses your temple.
"No problem, kiddo."
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stormz369 · 2 months ago
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☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 17
Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader
written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!
warnings/labels: racist microagressions, boundary crossing, and people in positions of power being scum, cursing wc: 2.4k
A/N: chapter concept was suggested by @scared-reader 👻 so if you like it thank them for the inspiring ask in the comments! (and feel free to submit your own if you've got an idea for me, you never know what's going to set off the unhinged writing monster in my soul 😅 )
Chapter Selection
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Damian was at my apartment again. He'd come over after school, and the look on his face suggested there was something weighing him down. I got him set up at the table to do his homework, knowing he wouldn't be ready to talk until he felt his responsibilities were complete, and ordered pizza. While he worked, I made my grandmother's brownies. 
An hour later we were sitting on the floor in front of my tv, eating pizza and brownies, drinking soda, and playing mindless video games. Between rounds, Damian finally spoke up; “... There's an art show for our parents at my school next week … Father couldn't make it last year, something came up at work.”
I frowned a bit; “That sucks! ... Well, I'm sure he'll make it this year, yeah?”
“... Probably not. It's a busy time of year for him...”
“That's not fair…”
“It is what it is.” On the surface he sounded nonchalant about it, but after months of getting to know each other I was starting to catch the subtleties of his mannerisms and tones. And when he said ‘it is what it is' I heard, clear as day, the ache of unexpressed sorrow; the kind of sorrow that makes you feel selfish and cruel for caring at all over something so seemingly trivial.
“... Well, I know I'm not a parent, but I am an adult in your life who loves … your art. Think they'd let me come?”
“... You want to come?” he didn't even try to hide the surprise in his voice.
“Of course, if you're ok with it. … I remember how disappointing it was when my parents didn't come to my after school stuff. … Felt like I was the only kid in the room without an adult gushing over my work. I knew they were proud of me, they were just busy, but … I wanted my interests to be their priority for just a few hours. It hurt, seeing everyone else's adults make time for them when mine couldn't, and I don't want you to have to go through that too. So if you're comfortable with it I would be honored to get to go to your art show!”
Damian blinked a few times, looking down into his lap, and nodded. “... Ok. … Yeah, you … you can come. … It's Friday after school, from 4-6.” His voice came out a bit sharper than usual, like he was fighting to get the words out at all.
I smiled gently, pulling out my phone. “It's going right in my calendar. Will you already be there?” He nodded. “Perfect, … can Jace come too, or should I take the bus?”
Damian considered for a minute. “.... I suppose Todd can come. … It would be difficult to use the city bus to get to my school…”
I nodded. “Thanks kiddo.”
He opened his mouth, frowning slightly; “... I … why do you keep calling me that?”
I cringed slightly; “Sorry Damian, I keep forgetting you don't like it. I like to give people affectionate nicknames, it’s sort of second nature at this point I guess. I'll do better, I promise.”
“... No, it … it's ok, you don't have to stop. … I'm still not Dami though.”
I grinned, nodding. “You got it, kiddo.” Right, only Jon gets to call him Dami.
He nodded once, smiling a little.
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Tears filled my eyes. The lump in my throat made it incredibly difficult to speak, but I had to say something; he was staring up at me with those big, guarded eyes, waiting for my response. “... Damian, it's-”
“Perfect…” Jason's arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his chest.
Damian's section of the art show was filled with portraits of his family and friends. And right in the center, on one of the biggest canvases I'd seen outside of a museum, was a painting of the three of us on my couch; me and Damian facing each other with Jason in the middle, his hand on my knees, just like the time they'd spent the night. The casual intimacy of our poses and easy smiles on our faces were like a dream for the future, laid bare in front of us.
It wasn't as easy as the painting made it look, not yet, but maybe someday it would be.
I nodded, agreeing with Jason; “it's beautiful~ you're so talented! … is … is that really how you see me?”
Damian hadn't made me smaller; I was still round and soft in his painting, but instead of feeling insecure the portrait made me feel beautiful. The delicate, sweeping brush strokes that made up my body exuded warmth and tenderness. I wasn't entirely sure if it was my love for him that he'd seen and captured in the paint, or his own affection for me, but it was there on the canvas for all to see.
He tilted his head; “... I don't understand? That is what you look like.”
“Yeah, but … Damian, in a culture that teaches women that being big is bad, making a fat girl feel beautiful in her fatness is like the artistic equivalent of finding Bigfoot - there are people who say they have, but who actually believes them?” I smiled softly, looking into his confused eyes; “you’ve made me feel beautiful, Damian. … Thank you.”
Jason hugged me tighter, kissing my shoulder; “... good job, demon brat~”
Damian flushed a bit, obviously pleased, and for a moment it looked like he was going to say something, but before he could, a tall woman came up behind him. She smiled warmly, looking at me; “ah, you must be the panther tamer!”
Damian's entire demeanor changed in an instant, closing in on himself. I frowned, looking up at her; “excuse me? … Who are you?”
The woman ruffled Damian's hair, either not noticing or not caring about his grimace or minuscule flinch as she made contact; “I’m Mrs. Webster, Damian's math teacher! It's a miracle; ever since you've come into his life, our little wild cat here has finally retracted his claws! Finally dropping some of those nasty habits of his. I don't know what you're doing with him, but keep up the good work!”
“... So you did just say what I thought you said. … Ok, bet.” I pushed Jason's arms off me and stepped forward until she stumbled back, making sure I ended up between her and Damian. “First of all; don't ever touch him again. Anyone with two brain cells can tell he doesn't like it.”
She stuttered, stepping back more; “ah! It was just a hair ruffle-”
“Don't. Ever. Touch him. Secondly, he is a person, he's not a wild animal that needs to be tamed. What on earth makes you think that's an appropriate thing to say about one of your students?”
“Hey now! I just meant that his behavior has gotten better, it's a compliment!”
I continued to walk toward her, slowly backing her into a corner. “Shut. The fuck. Up. You were not complimenting him; you were othering him. He is a child in a foreign country with foreign, often contradictory culture; since coming here he has had to relearn everything about how life works and what's expected of him, and he has had to do it using English, one of the most obnoxious languages to learn, and probably the fourth or even fifth one he knows. He is expected to gracefully fold himself into an American household, go to an American school, and follow American customs; nothing in his life would have prepared him for any of that, but he has done it all, and he's done it while living under intense media scrutiny because of his family name. And on top of all that, he's also making all these life changes during one of the hardest parts of a person's development. He works hard every single day to navigate this life, often doing things he hates because they're expected of him, all for your comfort. Is it so much to ask that his teachers treat him with some basic fucking respect?”
She frowned, trying to interrupt me; “I was just-”
“No, I'm talking, that means you shut your mouth. That boy, that brilliant, brave, kind young man was ripped from the life he knew, the good and the bad in it, sent away from his family and friends, to a supposed land of freedom and safety, and when he gets here he has to deal with mediocre minds like yours calling him an animal and praising the people who care about him for their ‘good work' with him? Abso-fucking-lutely not.
I have done no work here; it is not work to meet him where he's at. It is not work to love that boy in whatever ways he's ready to accept. And it is certainly not work to treat him with respect. That is the bare fucking minimum. It is a joy and a pleasure to get to know him; he is a remarkable young man. On his worst day he is a better person than you are on your best. He is compassionate, and patient, and he is a good kid. How fucking dare you talk about him like there's something wrong with him being just the way he is? Who the hell do you think you are? What kind of racist shit-”
“Hey now! I am not racist!”
The side of my fist made contact with the stone wall above her head. I took a deep breath, growling softly; “tell yourself whatever you need to. But you are going to keep a few things in mind going forward. Number one; anything you say or do to Damian will get back to me. Number two;” I smirked, chuckling darkly; “I am not afraid of jail time. So, for everyone's best interest; you will respect his boundaries, and you will think before you open your ignorant mouth. Because if I find out that you or anyone in this school has more inconsiderate, racist ass bullshit to say about my kid, I will be back. And from that day on, you will not know a moment of peace. Have I made myself clear, Mrs. Webster?”
She nodded quickly, eyes wide with fear, and I gave her the most condescending smirk I could before spinning on my heel to return to my boys. I only made it a few steps before Damian ran straight into me, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. His face buried into my chest, and his shoulders were shaking. I was almost pushed back by the force of him throwing himself at me, but I managed to stay standing. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, one hand gently cupping his head, the other stroking his back.
We stood like that for a long while. I wasn't going to pull away first; this was the first time I'd seen Damian initiate physical contact with anyone, and I was not about to give him any reason to believe it had to stop before he was ready. He could have as much as he wanted for as long as he wanted it.
I looked up at Jason over Damian's head; I thought he looked a bit proud, leaning against the wall to watch us. He gestured to me that he was heading out of the room but would be back soon and I nodded, just continuing to hold the shaking boy in my arms. I ran my fingers through his hair gently, hoping it would soothe him, “... I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Damian…”
He shook his head, slowly releasing me. He didn't look up, but I could tell from the wet spot above my heart that he had been crying. “... Can we go home?”
“Yeah, kiddo. Let's get you home.”
“No, I mean … your home?”
“Oh, yeah, you can spend the night at mine. You can spend the whole weekend if you want. … I'll tell your dad for you, if you want?”
He nodded, slowly taking my hand. “... Can we stop at the manor, so I can get a few things and feed my pets?”
“Of course we can.” I smiled softly, gently squeezing his hand, and led him out of the auditorium to find Jason.
Jay met us at the front office. “You're being swapped into Mr. Desantis's math class, Damian.”
Damian nodded, staring at the floor in front of him. “... Thank you.”
Jason nodded, looking at our hands; “... We ready to go?”
“Yeah. We're gonna stop at the manor so Damian can get some stuff, and then we'll all head home.”
Jason nodded, letting us lead the way. He walked behind Damian and over a bit, so the youngest Wayne was flanked by us. Damian watched his feet as we made our way to the car, smiling just a little. “... Are you really going to return if I tell you my teachers are still saying those things about me?”
I stopped next to the car, falling to one knee in front of him, and gently squeezed Damian's hands. His vibrant green eyes slowly met mine, and I had to bite back the rage boiling in my chest; he looked so fragile, like he expected me to say ‘no, you don't deserve it, take care of yourself'. “... Damian, if anyone says or does anything to make you feel inferior, I want you to tell them that you are not required to accept their mistreatment, and walk away. Then you call me. If I don't pick up it'll be because I'm still asleep or at work, you text me and then you call Jay, he will come get me, and we will come for you. Ok?”
“... You'd leave work?”
“... I feel like that's not as impressive as the fact that I'm willing to lose sleep over this, but yes; you are more important than work. I can easily get another job, what I can't and won't do is make you face their shit alone.”
He nodded slowly. “... Father said I'm not supposed to misbehave at school … We have the public eye on us…”
Jay growled softly; “I am certain that he didn't mean for you to accept that kind of bullshit from inferior minds. And if he did, he can take it up with me. You do not have to accept their cruelty. Not ever.”
Damian looked up at Jason slowly, nodding. “... Really?”
“Really.”
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Next ->
Divider by: @saradika-graphics
Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men
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camellia-salazar · 8 months ago
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April's drawings and doodles!! Get ready! 🎉🌟
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At first, I was gonna draw ARG tangled in some rope, but then the rope looked like a ribbon, so I made Gangle into a monster instead. Also, I drew two of the most underated cats from Warriors ever, especially Lionheart.
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(I started this first but finished it second). Drawings of certain characters cause their birthdays this month, except for Colin his birthday is at the end of March. I just forgot to draw him. I just love how Cody, Popee, and Waluigi share the same birthday, tho. 🎉
Edit: (No offense to those born on April 1st, btw).
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I was writing a story with these six, inspired by The New Prophecy. But I haven't written it in some time. Idk if I'll ever continue it. I don't think I'll post it anywhere, either. Probably.
The next two drawings I started a month or so ago but didn't finish until this month.
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Took quite a while to finish, but I'm glad I did. Idk where this takes place yet, but it is a scene from that crossover I keep thinking about but never really writing down.
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Either takes place before or after the drawing above it, I don't really remember. What I do know, tho is that I drew these drawings because idk I just felt like Adam would have interesting interactions with some other characters.
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I rushed this at the end. I did not want to leave it out. I want a clean slate next month. God damn it. I love crossovers, how bout you?
More about the Multifandom lore and other stuff below if you want:
Characters who die in canon that end up in the place (idk what to call it) keep being in the clothing that they died in. (Rip Ram and Kurt from Heathers: the Musical). (Spoilers warning if needed) So Adam is stuck with his robe he wore during the war with Charlie and the others from the hotel.
Also, about the 3rd drawing, like I said, it's an idea I had that, yes, takes place in the same crossover thing I think about. The colors in the background of each kiddo are involved in it, too.
The first two drawings are pretty much just some random doodles (idk what to do with the one with ARG and monster Gangle) while the other three kinda have stories to them that may or may not be written or animated on someday. (God, I hope that last sentence made sense).
Oh, and Bluey, Bingo and their cousins got to visit the Cul-De-Sac cause of a reason that's also in the multifandom/crossover I think about, I don't know if I should explain it or not. Meh.
BTW I've tried to match the original art styles of everything before, but this time, I've taken some steps forward. The hardest thing to figure out is the claynimated ones like Orel, Clay, and Claire. But I managed (for now, probably).
Edit: i went back and fixed it, I feel so much better about it now.
I even tried to have it seem like Bluey and others are slowly transitioning to the EEnE art style a bit.
But anyways, thanks for looking at my art and reading my rant! (If you did, if not, don't worry)
Have a good one! 🌟✨️✨️👋
(i keep forgetting to include my logo in my fanarts, but whatever, maybe next time, maybe next year ill start. Idk.)
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grahamcracklewho · 5 months ago
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00. RED ROGUE.
a Carmen Sandiego (2019) rewrite.
tw (for the entire series): murder, death, mild gore, angst, obsession, ableism. i will add onto this as i go on. this series is DEEPLY redcrackle but includes ocs and reworked versions of characters, canon events, and etc.
my version of Black Sheep is deeply inspired by this beautiful art piece :)
posted this bc I want this fandom to be alive again. i love cs and hopefully this’ll make others love it too.
this is the prologue. ask/comment to be tagged for ch1 and more.
YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW CARMEN SANDIEGO TO READ THIS.
(I made this as understandable as possible to newcomers).
current (prolouge). next.
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The smell of sea salt made Black Sheep scrunch up her nose as she took her hiding place crouched behind a large rock positioned by the island’s only dock, occasionally peering around it to check on incoming visitors. Though the golden sands and crystalline waters of the isle of VILE would’ve charmed any other, the sense of wonder it had brought her had long since faded, replaced by a perpetual sense of boredom.
The faint whirring of the engine of a boar caught her attention, and she cast the dock another glance. Black Sheep could just barely make out the silhouette of a boat on the horizon, the riding sun casting an orange glow onto VILE’s trademark black and green color scheme.
She grinned, glancing down at what she held in her hand: a red water balloon, filled to the brim. Someone was in for a nasty surprise, with that someone being VILE’s very own bookkeeper and number-cruncher: Cookie Booker. Black Sheep had gotten well-acquainted with her fury over the last couple years.
The sharp click of Cookie’s heels against the wooden dock made Black Sheep snap out of her reminiscing. She reared her arm back, taking aim. This was the only enjoyable part of her year, and she wasn’t about to mess it up.
Wait. Cookie was getting closer. Wait…
Now!
Black Sheep swung her arm forward, grinning widely as she watched it soar through the air and meet its target with quite the splash—Cookie’s luxury-brand coat, now soaking wet. Cookie took one look at her coat and her face grew as red as the water balloon.
“Black Sheep!”
Black Sheep giggled as she ran away from the docks (and the victim of her unruly prank), only to suddenly collide into a heavy figure. “Ow!” She cried, rubbing her face, though as she looked up, a smile quickly formed. “Coach Brunt!” The woman was large and tall, with cropped green hair and fists that could’ve very well been made of iron. The coach was like a mother to her.
Coach Brunt didn’t waste a second, immediately enveloping Black Sheep in a sturdy hug.
“Morning, lambkins,” Coach Brunt said as she squeezed Black Sheep tightly, to the point of making her both smile and gasp for sir. “What’d you do this time, hm?” I can see that look of mischief on your face.”
Black Sheep managed a sheepish smile and glanced off to the side, seeing Cookie in her peripheral. Coach Brunt followed her line of sight and laughed when she saw the bookkeeper in wet garments.
“Ah, soaked Cookie again, did you?” Coach Brunt mused. “Well, I’d tell you to stop, but you’re just too darn cute to say no to. And, Cookie’s got it coming, anyways. She’s so damn snobbish.”
The coach rolled her eyes before grinning down at Black Sheep. “Up for a game of dodgeball? I’ve got a fresh batch of kiddos to break in this year.” She released Black Sheep, who wheezed as she was set back down. “You wanna help your mama out, lambkins?”
Black Sheep clutched her chest, rubbing a sore spot, but smiled. “Are you kidding me? Let’s do it!”
Aside from pulling pranks on Cookie, her other favorite pastime was watching VILE’s students train. They were taught to be master thieves, the very best of the best, able to simply take whatever shiny trinkets caught their attention. Black Sheep wanted to be just like them. But also?
She wanted to make Coach Brunt proud.
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“Damn.” Black Sheep looked around the vast gymnasium, currently filled with people that were a mess of flailing limbs and stumbling feet. “They’re not very good at this.”
Coach Brunt patted her back. “This is what most newbies are like, hon. They’ll have improved by the end of the year, and any who don’t get booted out. But, you’re not fully wrong, either. I think Bellum is accepting whatever idiots sign up at this point, because she wants more lab rats for those wacky experiments of hers.”
Black Sheep hummed noncommittally in response, thinking about how she was already so much better than the fumbling fools that VILE had taken in.
If only she could learn to be a thief already… but VILE only accepted students at a minimum age of eighteen. She was sixteen. Could she even last two more years without dying of boredom? Or… worse yet, being forgotten, if more skilled and experienced students came?
She gave the gymnasium another look over. It was no more impressive than it was before, and she felt a little sick this time.
“I’m gonna go real quick,” she said quietly. “Be right back.”
Coach Brunt gave her a quizzical look but didn’t question her as she ran off.
Black Sheep slowed down to a stop once she could no longer hear the chatter in the gym, but scowled to herself as silence flooded in instead.
VILE’s halls were cold, hard and empty. Its students were what breathed life into it. She hoped to be one of those students one day, but with each passing hour, her patience was slowly being whittled away. She wasn’t sure she could wait anymore.
As she dragged herself down another long, white corridor, she noticed how shiny the floors were. That was a clear sign that Vlad and Boris, VILE’s janitors, were nearby. Her face lit up. They were always fun to talk to, mainly because they were too exhausted to get annoyed at the pranks she tended to pull on them.
“Vlad? Boris?” She called as she rounded a corner.
Instead of seeing the familiar pale-skinned, dark-haired janitors, however, Black Sheep came face-to-face with a stranger. It was a young boy, around her age, with ghastly pale skin and stark white hair.
Startled, she jumped back, frowning as she scrutinized him. “Who are you?” She demanded, eyes fixed on this odd new person. A piece of cloth was tied around his eyes, acting as a blindfold. He held his hands up, the motion stiff and defensive.
“My name is Zircon,” he said carefully. “My uncles work here. Please, don’t be rash. You can identify me with staff. I have clearance.”
She squinted at this so-called Zicron. “Are you a student here?”
“No.” Slowly, he lowered his hands. “But I hope to be. I’m applying next year.”
“How old are you?” She pushed.
“I—“ he looked slightly offended, but caved. “Sixteen.” Holy cow, he was the same age as her! “Like I said, my uncles work here. I have a good word in with the faculty.”
Black Sheep suddenly had a lightbulb moment. Surely, if the faculty was considering having this random as a student, they’d also consider her, right? After all, she had lived on this island all her life, and had proven to be a skilled pickpocket already. She had the right to cultivate her talent.
“Hey,” she said. “How’re you gonna, like, convince them that you’re a good pick for next year’s class?”
“…Well, I’ve already pitched my case to faculty. It’s in their hands, now.” Zicron shifted a little, looking uncomfortable. “Is that enough information for you? Frankly, I don’t appreciate being interrogated.”
Slowly, she straightened herself. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “Yeah, it is.”
Zicron relaxed. “Alright, then. Nice meeting you, uh…?”
“Black Sheep,” she supplied. “That’s my name. Coach Brunt gave it to me. You know, the faculty member.” She probably didn’t need to boast, but she was in a good mood. “You’ve heard of her?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” he said. “You’re the one that was found as a baby on the side of a road in Argentina. You’re practically famous in these halls.”
Doesn’t ever feel like it. Still, she managed a smile. “Thanks. Guess I’ll see you some other time, then.”
“Guess so. Bye, Black Sheep.”
She smiled to herself, brushing past him as she walked away. “Bye-bye, Zicron.”
Black Sheep strolled to the library and made sure that no one was in the vicinity before she raised her hand, glancing at the stolen ID she held between her fingers, Zicron’s name glimmering in silver letters. She brought it up to the light, peering at it closely.
“Vlad and Boris’s nephew, huh?” She murmured. “Interesting.” Another word caught her attention.
Medical Issues: albinism; blind.
Blind.
She scoffed under her breath. How would anyone disabled, much less blind, ever make for a good thief?
A shame. She slid the ID into her pocket. I won’t be seeing him again next year.
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justagalwhowrites · 2 years ago
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Beskar Doll - Ch. 16: Heat
You decide to make yourself useful. The Mandalorian decides to keep his distance from you. It has... mixed results. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-16 found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader
Warning: UNABASHED SMUT :D (fingering. Just a lot of fingering.) The helmet stays on this is the way. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.
Length: 5.8k
You were’t sure just what had set the Mandalorian off but it wasn’t getting any better. It seemed like an overreaction to going for a walk, especially from a man who tended toward quiet and stoic. It had to be something else, too.
Part of you supposed you deserved it, you were hardly welcoming when he’d shown up on Garqi. But he was the one who’d basically put a blaster to your head and made you come along with him. The rest of the day you’d gone for a walk, he largely ignored you except to glare in your direction when he thought you were pushing yourself too hard. That night, he’d stayed in the grass outside the ship and you’d gone into the hold to nest yourself into a corner. You didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
The next day, you tried to set your frustration aside and see if he could act like a damn adult. 
“Question,” you said, the baby on your hip as he worked on something on the exterior of the ship. He looked at you but didn’t say anything. Fine. “Is that bag the only thing you have to carry him?” 
“There’s a pod, too,” he said. “Why?” 
“Just doesn’t seem the best set up for conflict,” you shrugged.
“Well, Doll, if you see a market somewhere here to improve the situation,” he turned back to his work. You rolled your eyes but carried the kid onto the ship anyway. 
“Your dad’s a piece of work,” you muttered, setting the baby on the ground for a moment and looking at the crates in the hold. They weren’t any taller than the ones that had been there three years ago, but climbing was harder now. You took a deep breath, steeled yourself, and pulled yourself onto the shortest one. The pain in your back flared but you ignored it until you were on top of the crate. The baby watched you, eyes wide. You met his gaze. Questioning and desire. He wanted to be up high, too, and couldn’t figure out how to get there. 
“When I’m a little more sure on my feet, kiddo, I’ll bring you,” you smiled. “Sit tight for two minutes.” 
Getting onto the taller crates from the shorter one was easy, and you were able to make your way to the upper part of the back corner of the Crest’s hold. There was a panel there that you were pretty sure the Mandalorian either didn’t know about or thought was too inconvenient to use - which wasn’t really wrong. Regardless, you thought there was a good chance that the sewing kit you’d stashed in there the last time you’d been aboard would still be in there. The panel was stuck from disuse but, after a few good knocks with your elbow, it popped open. Inside was a small treasure trove of things you’d hidden away years ago. You smiled a little, smug. He’d been stuck traveling with little pieces of you whether he wanted to be or not. 
The sewing kit was in there, as were some data drives you’d forgotten about - nothing too special, just music, art and books to keep you entertained while Mando was hunting that you’d picked up on Hosnian Prime. You grabbed them, thinking something on them might keep the baby engaged for a bit. There was a bottle of whiskey, too, that you’d intended to give him at some point. You’d gotten it on Coruscant, a token of appreciation. It had probably aged into something better now, at least. You left it where it was. 
You clambered back down, the baby still watching in almost total fascination. Landing on your feet hurt more than you remembered, the heat and pain in your back spiking for a moment, but it was doable. You kept one eye on the kid while you rifled through the bag the Mandalorian had packed for you until you found a dress from your days as a handmaiden on Naboo. The skirt had layers, all of them thick and resistant to blaster bolts. You pulled the two middle layers out from the rest and opened the knife with your teeth before stabbing it into the fabric and cutting them loose. The kid toddled over and touched the cloth, picking it up and holding it in front of his face. 
“This is for you eventually,” you said, folding the knife up and putting the dress away. “But not yet, I have to actually make it into something first.” 
You folded the fabric, set it next to the sewing kit and scooped the kid up, popping him onto your hip as you looked around the hold for other tools. There were some straps for holding down crates that you didn’t think you’d ever seen used, so you grabbed a few of them, hoping that left enough extra that Mando wouldn’t be pissed about it. 
“He’s pissed at me all the time anyway, right?” You said, looking down at the baby and bouncing him a bit. He just smiled and you felt his easy contentment. “Man, why am I not a species that gets to be a kid for a few decades? I don’t think I even got to be a kid for one…” You gave his little nose a kiss and gathered the rest of your supplies and your data pad before leaving the ship again. You purposely set up in a place that was out of easily sight of the Mandalorian and the ramp into the Razor Crest. After laying out the fabric, you put the kid in the middle of it, using his little body to measure just how big a bag he might need. Something big enough to comfortably hold him but small enough that he wouldn’t get too jostled when running with him on. On the data pad, you sketched out a quick plan, the kid watching you intently. You turned it around and showed it to him. 
“You like?” You asked. He squeaked. You smiled. “Yes, I know, I’m an excellent designer. You’ll be so stylish, all the other foundlings are going to wish they were you.” 
The kid settled in the grass, picking at the blades of it and toddling after the tiny bugs that flitted from place to place. 
The fabric was tricky to cut, both because of the material itself and because you were stuck working with your knife and not scissors but you made the most of it. Once you had the pieces cut according to your plan, you put one of the drives in the data pad - this one with art from different worlds - and handed it to the kid, who had moved on to trying to terrorize the small, furry creatures that burrowed in the grass on this planet. He abandoned his latest quest in favor of the data pad, happily watching the artwork flit by in front of him. 
It was easy to lose track of time once you started sewing. It felt good to make something again. You’d always known how to do some of this work - clothing repair just one of the many things it was useful for a handmaid to know. But you’d started making and building and fixing more things in your time on Dantooine. Kann had left much of the management of farming operations to you, so you’d learned how to repair the equipment from a droid he’d rented for a season. You’d started making and building things just to feel like you were doing something constructive, the pace of country life so much slower than anything you’d ever lived. Moisture farming on Tatooine had required much more constant effort, the grind of daily chores enough to keep you distracted from your lack of purpose. Dantooine had been different. You’d discovered that the quiet, slow life you’d longed for wasn’t built for you. Or you weren’t built for it. You were’t sure which. 
“Watch the kid,” Mando called do you at one point. “I’m going hunting.” 
He didn’t wait for a response and you watched his glinting armor head for the woods. The baby watched him, too, before he looked at you. He felt worried. 
“It’s OK,” you lightly tapped his little nose. “He’ll always come back for you, don’t you worry. And you’ve got me in the meantime.” 
He still looked longingly after the Mandalorian until he disappeared into the tree line. 
“Yeah, kid,” you sighed. “I know the feeling.” You glanced down at him. “Don’t tell him I said that.” 
The bag was relatively quick work, and you made sure the straps could be adjusted to fit the Mandalorian’s more hulking frame or your smaller one before attaching them. You tried it on without the kid first, putting the straps over your arms and securing the base of the bag with the strap at your waist. 
“See?” You said to the kid, who was far more interested in an animal burrowing nearby, the data pad all but abandoned on the ground. He looked up at you, making a little questioning squeak. “A backpack, so you can be a little more secure. Maybe I’ll even take you climbing.” 
You took it off and scooped him up, slipping him inside it and leaving the top open so he could see out. He seemed to fit securely enough. You carefully put the bag on, strapping it to yourself again, looking over your shoulder to him. 
“He’ll probably find a reason to be upset with me over this,” you said to him. The baby cooed. “But fuck it.” 
“Upset with you for what?” 
You nearly jumped out of your skin, wondering how you’d managed to miss him coming back from the forest from where you’d been working. 
“How are you that quiet?” You demanded, hand over your heart. 
“Practice. Why am I going to be upset with you.” 
“You’ll find a reason, I’m sure,” you replied. “One of your many talents.” 
“Doll.” 
You rolled your eyes. 
“This,” you said, turning so he could see the child in the backpack. You couldn’t see but you heard the kid’s happy sounds. “It should fit either of us, it’s more secure than the shoulder bag, definitely better for running with…” 
“Where’d you get it?” He asked, his voice lacking the edge it had held since he’d tracked you in the woods. You considered being sarcastic for a second but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. It was too nice, hearing him be something besides cold to you. 
“Made it,” you said. “Used some fabric from one of my dresses from Naboo, from my handmaid days. It’s fabric that can dissipate some of the energy from a blaster bolt, so it will protect him. I used some of the crate straps from the hold, I hope that’s OK….” He didn’t say anything and the silence seemed more uncomfortable than usual. You started unhooking the straps. “Here, you try it.” 
You slipped the bag off gently, pulling the kid around to the front of your body as you did and turned to face the Mandalorian. He was standing close to you, so close that there was barely room for the child in your arms between you. You looked into the visor, you couldn’t help it. You could feel him there, behind all the metal he used to distance himself from the world. The softness you knew was in him was there, the quiet passion, the deep empathy he held for things that suffered. All the things he tried so hard to pretend didn’t exist just inches away. 
He turned, slowly, so his back was to you and you cleared your throat before handing him a strap and helping him put the pack on over his cloak. The kid cooed happily, craning his neck back to try to see Din’s head. He shrugged into the pack, rotating his shoulders, settling into it. You came around the front to adjust the straps and set the waist strap in a good place before stepping back to admire your work. 
“Jump a bit with him on,” you said, hand under your chin. He obeyed, the straps in front staying put. The baby giggled. “Turn around and do it again?” 
He obeyed and you smiled a little. Finally, a way to get the Mandalorian to actually listen to you. You fought the temptation to abuse your newfound power. 
“One more test,” you said, stepping back. The baby smiled at you. You smiled back, his contentment making it easy. “Bend and twist with him a bit? I want to see if he’ll come loose…” 
Mando obeyed. The kid slid a bit much for your liking when he bent all the way forward, enough that you stepped toward him to catch him if you needed. You thought for a second. 
“OK, let’s take it off,” you said, helping him out of it. “I’m going to add one more thing that should fix it…” 
You pulled the baby out of the bag and propped him onto your hip. He fit naturally there. He leaned forward in your arms and grabbed a handful of your hair. 
“Next time I chop it all off, I’ll save you some, kiddo,” you teased him before looking to Mando. “So, found a reason to hate me for it yet?” 
“No,” he said. There was no challenge in his voice, no animosity. You tried to hide your surprise. He was still very close to you, so close that if you weren’t very careful, you’d brush against him if you moved. 
“Good,” you said, chin up defiantly. You moved delicately around him, not wanting to feel what you knew would happen in your body if you touched him, and went to the hold to scrounge up some rope. 
Din was skinning an animal when you came back outside, rope and a snack for the kid in hand. 
“That should hold us for a few days,” you said, eyes going a bit wide. 
“Thought it’d be easier than dressing something every day,” he shrugged. You nodded slowly. You’d never tried hunting, most of your survival training focusing on gathering and finding what plants would be safe to eat. You watched him work as you added a drawstring to the top of the bag. You put the kid inside and tightened it around him before putting it on your front, moving with him in place. He stayed put, his little hands clapping happily. You smiled, proud. At least you’d done something that day. 
You and the Mandalorian sat in silence around the fire after eating, watching the kid stack rocks, the flames reflecting off armor and the child’s wide eyes. You were hesitant to break it. Being alone for so long had taken its toll, having Din mad at you was more uncomfortable than you remembered it being before. If shutting up kept him from biting your head off, fine. You’d take it. You pulled your legs into your chest, resting your chin on your knees. 
“The backpack was a good idea,” he said. You glanced away from the baby to him and shrugged. “Thank you.” 
“Sure,” you said, looking back to the kid. “He’s pretty great, can’t let him get hurt because we don’t have the proper equipment.” 
You chewed on the inside of your cheek. 
“I want to start training tomorrow,” you said. He didn’t respond, so you pressed on. “If I’m going to be of any use to you at all, I need to be able to do what I used to do. Or at least close to it.” 
“Don’t get yourself hurt because you’re impatient,” he said, his tone a little cooler. You tried to not frown. 
“I’ll ramp up into it,” you shrugged. “But I need to at least get to the point that I can run, climb, throw a good punch before we leave here. Otherwise I’ll just be cannon fodder.” 
“You could just stay with the kid on the ship,” he said. “Don’t need skills for that.” 
“Yeah, I’ll definitely be able to pay off cybernetic implants on a babysitter’s salary in this lifetime,” you rolled your eyes. “It won’t take much to get me at least above the baseline. A lot of my training was predicated on me being smaller and weaker than my opponents anyway, I just need to get back into practice.” 
The kid yawned, falling back onto his little bottom and looking surprised about it. The Mandalorian took off his cloak and put it over him. His eyes drooped and he lay back, adjusting the makeshift blanket as Mando tucked him in. 
“Fine,” he said after the child was settled. “But I’m teaching you a few things.” 
“Like what?” You frowned. 
“You’re good with a blaster,” he said. “But I’m guessing bodyguard training didn’t include learning how to be a sniper.” 
“Correct,” you nodded. 
“I could use long distance cover,” he shrugged. “I imagine you’ll pick it up quick. You’re also learning how to fly.” 
“No thank you,” you shook your head, your stomach knotting. 
“Doll…” 
“No,” you cut him off, voice harsher than you’d really intended. 
“Why,” his voice was gentle. He was doing that thing where he was asking a question without actually asking. You glared at him. “Come on. Why don’t you want to work on your flying.” 
“I feel very out of control when flying, OK?” You looked at the fire to avoid what you were sure was a judgmental gaze. “There are so many other factors, you have to rely on your ship or your speeder to work properly. My blaster jams and I have alternatives - hell, I can even just throw it at someone. Can’t do that with a ship. And if there are passengers? Sure, I’ll gamble with my life, I’m not doing it with someone else’s.” 
“How’d you get away with protecting the queen of Naboo without knowing how to fly?” He sounded like he was trying not to laugh. You glared at him before looking back at the fire. 
“I know HOW to fly,” you snapped. “I just only know the basics. I can get on and off planet, I can set a jump to a place I’ve got memorized, I can dock with a ship. But a dogfight? Or doing what you did with the speeder on Coruscant? No.” 
“You’ll learn,” he said simply. 
“In what, the Crest?” You jerked your head at his ship. “That thing is older than me - maybe you, too.” 
“It’s older than me,” he sounded like he was smiling. 
“Yeah, you don’t want me doing a thing with it,” you replied. “I’m not going to be responsible for breaking your damned ship. You love that thing. Even though it looks like you haven’t been keeping it up quite as well the last few years.” 
“It’s old,” he said, looking into the fire, his tone a bit defensive but still light. “Hard to find the parts.” 
“All the more reason I should leave it be,” you said. “You hate me enough already, I don’t need to add to it when I break something that can’t be fixed or replaced.” 
His head turned to look at you so quick it made you jump. 
“You think I hate you,” it seemed like he wanted to ask it. You shrugged. 
“Maybe hate’s a strong word for it but…” you shrugged again. “Indifferent at best. At least bothered by.” 
“Why would I have found you if I was indifferent?” He asked - actually asked, for a change. 
“That one I can’t quite figure out,” you propped your chin on your arms that were folded atop your knees, just looking at him now. “I genuinely don’t understand you, Din. I used to think I was good at reading people - and maybe I’m just losing my touch, maybe I’m out of practice - but I can’t figure you out. What you want, how you feel. You’re inconsistent.” 
“I’m not.” 
“You’re inconsistent with your actions,” you said. “You obviously hated me when you first met me.” 
“I thought you were Imperial when I first met you,” he reminded you. “But I didn’t hate you. I wanted to, but I didn’t.” 
“Hmm,” you cocked your head, examining him. He was watching you, you could feel his eyes on you. “It definitely seemed like hate.” 
“If I hated you, why do you think I would have saved you on Crait.” 
You watched him for a moment. 
“Because you told my father you’d deliver me safely,” you said eventually. “As much as you disliked me, you believe in your creed more.” 
He didn’t argue with you, so you took it as a point in your favor. 
“Regardless,” you continued. “You never particularly liked me. You were backed into a corner on Coruscant and asked for my help. That changed things a bit, I thought you maybe liked me then. It felt like we were almost friends, at least for a bit.” You paused, sitting up a little straighter. “Then I fucked it up on Bisneth and…” You shrugged. “You were back to disliking me.” 
“No,” he said sharply.
“Yes you were,” you said. “Really, it’s fine. I’m not saying you wanted me dead or anything, I know you didn’t. You didn’t wish me ill but you were happy to get rid of me as soon as you could after. I don’t blame you for it…” 
“Doll…” 
“I don’t need you to like me, Mando,” you shrugged. “I’ve been on my own for a long time. It doesn’t matter.”
He was quiet for a moment. 
“You said you didn’t understand me,” he said. “What don’t you understand.” 
“Why come looking for me?” You asked. “Why go back to Dantooine at all? Were you just curious? So used to dealing with bounties that you decided you needed some closure with me? What was it?” 
He didn’t respond so you kept going. 
“You tracked me down on Garqi,” you pressed on. “You killed Kann. You saved my life, got me fucking cybernetics instead of just leaving me there or stopping the bleeding, went back to my house on Dantooine and found my things and made it look like I died there so I could try to stay in hiding… and for half a day? It felt like I remembered it being before I fucked it up the first time.…” 
“You didn’t fuck it up.…” 
“And then I go for a walk and you’re back to hating me,” you ignored him. “You give me whiplash, Mando. If you regret picking me up on Garqi, fine, leave me here and I’ll figure it out. Or drop me on the nearest inhabited world, I can find my way from there but stop making me feel like you’re enduring my existence because you’re being forced into it. You’re not. No one made you find me, you did that all on your own.” 
“I don’t regret picking you up,” he said. 
“Really?” You said, skepticism evident in your tone. “Because it sure seems like you do.” 
“I don’t. And I don’t hate you. Never did.” 
“Then what is it?” 
He looked at you for a moment, the tension heavy on the air. 
“If you want to start training tomorrow, I need to make sure your implant can handle it,” he said. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he was changing the subject. “Turn around so your back is in the light.” 
You sighed but obeyed, pulling your hair over your shoulder and leaning forward. You heard him come up behind you and sit down. He lifted the back of your shirt, slowly, and you held your breath without really meaning to. His finger brushed against your ribs and you fought to keep still. He’d taken his glove off again. 
He gently pressed his fingertips into your spinal column and you closed your eyes, focusing on the feel of his touch. Why not, you figured. You felt the way you felt. You were past the point of being able to really deny it so why bother? May as well enjoy it. 
His fingers were soft. It still shocked you, even though you’d felt them before - and you’d remembered feeling them plenty of times since. It seemed like they should be rough, callused. Hardened like the weapons they were. The gloves must do their job well. 
“What’s the verdict?” You asked after a moment, hoping you disguised the desire in your voice. 
You didn’t. 
***
He shouldn’t be doing this. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. It was a mistake. 
The wall he’d put up had worked well. A bit too well. You thought he hated you. He hadn’t wanted it to go that far. A little distance, that’s all he wanted. To be able to keep you at arm’s length. Make it so you could work together without the animosity on one end of the spectrum or the temptation on the other. 
But he couldn’t seem to manage that with you. Anything less than actively pushing you away and you were pulling him into your orbit, he couldn’t help it. It was like gravity, a force he couldn’t see or even hope to control, so much stronger than he was. You pulled him in with your tenacity, your biting wit, your tenderness with the kid, your soft skin, your lush hair. He fought to keep his hand from trembling as he touched you, testing the implant and memorizing how your skin felt like silk below his fingers. He took a shaky breath. 
“What’s the verdict?” Your head was turned, your hair in your fist as you looked back toward him, your voice heavy with want. A familiar ache settled in him, the desperate need for you. He pressed more of his hand into your back, spreading over your skin, soaking up as much of you as he could reach. Your breath caught. 
“It’s better,” he said, his hand ranging over your back. He wanted to touch you everywhere, needed to touch you anywhere you’d let him. 
“Good,” you said, pressing yourself back into his touch and closing your eyes. “That’s good.” 
He let go of your shirt then, both of his hands going to your bare waist, the fabric falling over his forearms. You let out a small gasp and it was like it went straight to his groin, the ache in him growing. He knew what needing you was. He’d lived with it for years. He didn’t expect it to hit him this hard, this drive to bury himself inside you until he couldn’t feel anything but you anymore. 
He pulled you back against him, your shoulders against his stomach, your head at his chest. You looked up at him, cheeks flushed, pupils blown. Fuck, he wanted you.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” his voice was quiet, low. You nodded quickly, your hands dropping to his thighs. His hands slid over your skin, so soft against him, around to your front, slipping over your ribs until he reached your breasts. You whimpered when his fingers first brushed them, your back arching into him, pressing yourself against him as he cupped you. He welcomed it, your warm, soft body against him, his arms tightening around you, the velvet fullness of your breasts in his hands. He wanted to touch all of you, feel all of you. For now, he settled for your chest as you bit your lip, pressing your cheek into him. 
And he would have been content to have held you like this, touched you like this, forever. But you started moving against him, your hips searching for something to work themselves against and he wanted to give you everything. 
One hand slid down your body, your skin warm with want and the heat from the fire, down to your pants. Your breath caught in your throat. You were frozen against him, almost like you were afraid to move, afraid he’d take his hands off you if you did. 
“Breathe, Doll,” he commanded before slipping his hand into your pants. You gasped as his fingertips brushed you, gently, exploring you. He found your clit and lightly rubbed it, moving the hand still at your breast in time with his fingers between your legs. Your fingers gripped his thighs and you swallowed a moan as he shifted his hand, leaving his thumb pressed against the top of your slit while working his fingers lower. He reached your entrance, so warm and wet it was hard to think straight, and he circled it lightly, teasing you, relishing the delicate sounds dripping from your lips. He pressed into you slowly, gently, so tight he had to work for every fraction of every inch. You ground down against him and he stopped. 
“Be patient,” he whispered, heat seeping into his voice. He wanted nothing more than to make you cum around his fingers but he wasn’t going to let this end quickly, not if he could help it. You stilled, panting against him. He sank his finger further into you and you moaned softly but stayed still. “Good girl.” 
He took his time burying himself fully inside you, trying not to think about what it would be like if it was his cock in you instead of his finger. He stilled against you, savoring the way your body tensed against him, how desperate you were to move and take what you needed. But he wanted to give it to you. 
He moved slowly at first, the finger inside you moving in tandem with the hand at your breast, never fully leaving you as his thumb worked your clit and his finger pressed deeper before pulling back, curving against one spot on your inner wall that made you pant with need. Your back arched further, your breaths getting more and more desperate. He felt your core begin to tighten and he added a second finger, a strangled groan slipping from you. 
“When was the last time someone made you cum, Doll?” He asked, increasing his pace. “Someone besides yourself.”
“Three years,” you panted softly, one hand leaving his thigh and reaching up and back, going around the back of his neck to hold yourself against him. “You, on Bakura… fuck!” 
The last word came as a desperate gasp as he felt you get even tighter around him. You were needy, straining to not writhe against him, just moving your body further up his own until your face pressed into his neck. 
Part of him was happy about it, proud that no one had brought you that high since him. But you deserved pleasure in your life. 
“Have to make up for lost time then,” he said, suddenly moving his fingers faster and harder against you, your body tensing even more, core tightening so much just the thought of his cock being deep in you was damn near enough to make him cum and you came undone with a desperate gasp, your body going slack against him. He thrust his fingers deep and held them inside as you throbbed around him, savoring the feeling of your ecstasy. 
You panted for breath, eyes opening, but he hadn’t had enough of you yet. He slowly started moving his fingers in you again and you let out a shocked whimper, the loudest sound you made since he’d started touching you. 
“Do you want me to stop, Doll?” He asked, looking down at your slack body against him. 
“No,” you moaned. 
“Then don’t wake up the kid,” he said, taking his hand away from your breast and slipping it over your mouth. He picked up the pace of his fingers slowly, gradually working you higher and higher, your body tightening like a spring around him, back arching again, fingers grasping desperately at his neck for something to hold while the ones at his thigh curled against him, needing an outlet for the growing tension until your body exploded around him. You moaned against his hand, reckless, as you went slack again. He released your mouth, his hand gently running over your face to your hair. 
“Din,” you panted softly, eyes meeting his below the visor. He felt like he could drown in your eyes and die happy doing it. “Please…” 
“Please what?” He asked, still gently working his fingers inside you as he stroked your hair. “Please stop?” 
“No,” your voice was shaky. 
“Good,” he said, pressing his fingers more firmly into you. “Because I want one more from you tonight.” 
You nodded weakly against him, your body soft and relaxed. He stroked your hair as he held you against him, his fingers slowly, deeply moving in and out and over you. You curled into him, like a surrender, like you had no choice but to trust him to do what he wanted with you and you liked it. He built your last orgasm slowly, pulling it gently from your wrung out body until you came around him almost softly, like your muscles didn’t have any more heat left to give. When the tension left you, you wrapped around him this time and he pulled his fingers slowly from you, putting his arms around you and holding you against him. He barely caught the tear at the corner of your eye, glinting in the firelight like a crystal. 
“What is it, Doll?” He asked gently, cupping your cheek with the hand that had been in your hair. Your hand went to his helmet, holding where his cheek lay below. 
“Don’t hate me in the morning,” you whispered. “Please.” 
“I won’t,” he pressed his metal covered forehead to yours. “I could never hate you, cyare.” 
You closed your eyes and nodded, the tear slipping down your cheek, and you slipped into unconsciousness in his arms. 
He waited a few minutes, until he was sure you were asleep, and picked you up, carrying you to the other side of the fire where the child lay. He was still fast asleep. He tucked you in beside him and you curled around his little body instinctively. Din watched you for a moment before going into the Crest. 
He closed himself in the fresher, immediately unzipping his fly and freeing himself, fisting his cock with the hand that had just made you cum. He remembered how you felt as you came undone, the sounds you made, the way you gripped him like you couldn’t have enough of him. It didn’t take long for him to cum with a strangled moan, struggling to stay on his feet from the force of it as he panted for breath. He took a moment to compose himself before getting cleaned up and going back outside. 
You and the kid were completely out. He lay on the other side of the child, on his side so he could look at you. He’d meant to keep his distance from you. He really had. But now? He was fucked. And he was having a hard time making himself care.
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jqmalikhsgib · 27 days ago
Text
astrology
thirteen
three weeks go by since your parents left your party leaving you heartbroken. aaron and spencer did everything they could to try and make you feel better.
you spent the first week crying nonstop. you only got out of bed to take care of jack before climbing back into bed, crying until you fell asleep.
the second week aaron and spencer made sure you got out of the house. they took you to get some sunlight and try to enjoy the day. it wasn’t easy but you felt a little better getting out of the house.
this week dave was having a get together with the team. aaron took you and jack with him. you stayed with jack and henry most of the night. you enjoyed taking care of the kids and making sure they were well. as the night progressed, you decided to go outside for some fresh air.
you stared at the stars before feeling a presence behind you. you turned to see dave giving you a sad smile.
“hi, kiddo.” he sits next to you.
“hi. sorry, just needed a moment.”
“don’t apologize. i understand.” for a moment the two of you sit in silence. dave clears his throat before speaking once more.
“you know, i almost had a child of my own,” he starts. “unfortunately he didn’t make it. carolyn and i, my first wife, we were heartbroken. after i ended up putting work first instead of her because i couldn’t deal with the grief of losing our son. we didn’t even get a day with him and it broke my heart. instead of being there for my wife i pushed her away, resulting in my first divorce. i regret every waking moment i wasn’t there for my family. she needed my support and i didn’t give it to her,”
you wait patiently for dave to finish his story. “watching your parents leave like that. it reminded me of my own mistakes. if i had been there for carolyn maybe we’d still be married, maybe i wouldn’t have two other divorces in my life, maybe i we would have another child and id be a father to some other kid. that being said, kiddo, you are not the problem! i know you’re blaming yourself, trying to figure out if you could have done something different, reevaluating that night. you stood up for yourself after years of allowing your parents to dictate your life choices. they were supposed to support you and love you unconditionally. one day they’ll regret shunning you and treating the way they did. until then, im here. i may not be what you want or even what you need, but im here for you any time you need.”
you cried before leaning onto dave. you only spent a handful of times with dave. you knew he cared about the people who surrounded him. you’re grateful he’s willing to be there for you.
“thanks dave.”
“of course kiddo. let’s get you inside. it’s freezing out here.”
when you both walk back inside, spencer was the first to walk over to you. aaron was busy making sure jack and henry were okay while the rest of the team gave you a sympathetic look.
“it’s gonna be okay, yn. you know you have all of us now.” jj smiles at you.
“yeah! screw them. they don’t know what they’re missing, baby girl. you’re pretty fucking awesome and your art work is incredible.” derek states.
you simply smile at them. you may have lost your parents but you have gained a new family. they cared about you and supported you and your dreams.
“thanks.”
everyone raised their wine glasses before aaron comes back around and wraps his arms around your waist. “you okay?”
you simply nod your head. the rest of the night consists of banter, laughter, and fun.
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getting back home you felt exhausted. you and aaron immediately tucked jack into bed before walking into your own bedroom and changing into your pajamas. neither of you had the energy to take a shower.
aaron wraps his arms around your waist as he kisses your shoulder. you smile at him lovingly.
“i know the last few weeks have been rough. i know how it feels to lose a parent long before you’re ready. i know we never really discussed it too much but my parents weren’t exactly loving. my dad was a prosecutor. he was a damn good one at that. his own father was a prosecutor and so was his grandfather,”
“is that why you became one?” you whispered.
“mhm. i wanted to make my father proud. after years of being a disappointment to him, years of neglect, years of physical harm, i still wanted to make my dad proud.”
you caress his cheek. you hated that aaron was abused growing up. no one deserved that. you couldn’t imagine the pain he must have went through. he was just a boy who wanted his fathers love.
“when i was sixteen, my mom had my brother, sean. at that point my father paid me no mind more than he did before. he told me that now he could fix everything and have the son he always wanted. that moment was when my parents shipped me off to boarding school. for the longest time i was jealous. jealous of my baby brother. i still wanted my fathers approval so i did everything in my power to gain it. it didn’t matter though. no matter what i did i would remain a screw up on punching bag.”
“what about your mom? why didn’t she do anything?” you couldn’t understand why his mother, someone who suppose to protect their babies no matter what, no matter who hurt them wouldn’t protect aaron.
“she wasn’t better. she grew up to cater and respect her husband no matter what. her parents were the ones to teach her that a woman stands by their husband side despite his faults. my mother would just shrug away the abuse and tell me i needed to ‘man up’ and do what my father wanted. once i was eighteen and in college i wanted nothing but to protect my baby brother from the wrath and disappointment of my parents so i stayed home. i made sure sean didn’t experience the abuse i did. i raised him to be kind, love, be adventurous. i raised him to know his self worth. even if i didn’t know mine.”
“why aren’t you close anymore?”
“overtime, when sean was thirteen, i was married to haley, ready to start my own life. i still kept in touch, making sure sean knew just because i was married, i was still there whenever he needed me. then dad got sick. he was diagnosed with cancer. the craziest part is, it didn’t change who he was. he still was an abusive cheating asshole. he couldn’t physically harm me but he still tried to drag me down mentally. he still affected me in ways i thought id outgrew. he told me id never lead the hotchner name. he said i wouldn’t be a good prosecutor. i wanted to prove him wrong! i wanted to show him that i was gonna be the best god damn prosecutor he’d ever seen. and i was! i won cases left and right. i was fantastic.”
“i can see that. you’re good at your current job. ive heard how you made a guy cry when you were interrogating him.”
aaron smiles before continuing. “three years went by after finding out my father had cancer. we were certain he wouldn’t make it. i did everything in my power to take care of my mom and little brother. but by some miracle he beat it. the doctors told us that they never seen anything like it. i should have known that stubborn bastard wouldn’t let cancer kill him. after, things went back to normal. or at least somewhat normal. when my dad got better he continued cheating on my mom, my mom continued being oblivious, and my brother worshipped the ground he walked on. it wasn’t far off. sean got a more normal childhood. he was cared for and loved. from that moment i didn’t hear much from sean. i figured he was just being a teenager. not wanting to talk to his big brother. the more time went by, the less i heard from him. id see him and my parents on holidays and they’d all come around a few times when jack was born. but he just vanished from my life. my parents, i knew that was only a matter of time. i never expected much of a relationship with them once i had my own life to live. honestly, i was relieved i rarely saw them. but sean, i was heartbroken i lost my little brother.”
“im sorry, aar. you didn’t deserve any of that. none of that, what you went through as a child was your fault. you were just a boy who wanted your parents to love you. you wanted to protect your little brother from everything you went through and only got hurt in the end. you don’t deserve to feel that pain.”
aaron kisses the top of your head. “and neither do you. your parents, they do not deserve you kindness, honey. they don’t deserve your tears. you are amazing and just because they don’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not there. that’s why i shared my story. despite it all i proved to myself i could be a better man than my father, a better parent to my son, and though i made so many mistakes with haley, im making it my mission to be a better partner to you. one day you’ll be a successful artist. you will sell so many of your art pieces and make a name for yourself. not to prove your parents wrong, no! to prove yourself right.”
you tear up. aaron gently wipes the tears away before kissing you gently. “i believe in you and i love you. jack loves you, spencer loves you, and my team loves you. you’re absolutely perfect.”
“thank you. i needed to hear that.”
that night you fall asleep in aaron’s arms peacefully for the first time in weeks. you truly felt like things would be okay despite the pain and hurt you’ve endured.
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yes i made sure aaron’s parents are alive and well due to future events 👀
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chaparro0456 · 9 months ago
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Damian school days series 
Prologue Part 2
Bruce is with Damian in the library
Damian: Father is there something you need I’m in middle reading the art of war it’s quite interesting book
Bruce: How would you like if I sent you to an  academy to further your education
Damian: No need I can teach myself just tell what subject you want me to study and I’ll learn it on my own
Bruce: Damian i think it’s best if I sent you to school starting next semester
Damian: If you think it’s for the best then I won’t argue against it
Bruce:That was easier then I thought it will be
Damian: I just have one request I don’t want to share a class with drake
Bruce: Oh you’re not going high school you’re going to an elementary school
Domain: No I rather share a class with drake then be surrounded by children 
Bruce: Damian kiddo you are a child your only 8 years old and it’s important for children including you to have a proper education and socialize with kids your own age you might even make lasting friendships
Damian: I already have friends Jon and Billy I don’t need more
Bruce: Damian Billy is 13 i wouldn’t say that near your age and Jon is a great friend of yours but he’s a 3 hour drive away and you don’t always get to see him besides from y’all super sons portals even then it’s just hero work
Damian pouts silently
Bruce: Look kiddo when your mother sent you to me I promise to myself to try to give you a regular childhood
Damian: I doubt most American children live in big mansion or don’t have an elephant named Dumbo 
bruce: A somewhat normal childhood kiddo you’re my son and I want what’s best for you and I believe that best is being around other children like yourself
Damian: I guess…. you’re not sending me to an away school are you
Bruce: Kiddo no it’s just for a few hours a day I’m not going to send you anywhere where I can’t reach you
Damian: Okay I’ll give it try but I probably won’t like it
Bruce: Who knows maybe you will like it
Bruce ruffled Damian hair
Damian: Do I need supplies
Bruce: Yes you would how about next week you could go with Tim and pick out a backpack pencil case folders and anything else you may need or want
Damian: Alright baba
Bruce gave a soft smile to Damian before he left the library
Damian couldn’t explain it but he was nervous he doesn’t know why
Previously Next (will be a link soon)
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velvetvexations · 21 days ago
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(seems like the ask i sent last time about this didnt go through but apologies if it did) kink confession. i finally found a fetish i am into that is embarrassing to admit for non-"problematic" reasons and its fucking. wedgies. whyyyyy. in hindsight i should have seen this coming because i have vague memories of making shitty wedgie art as a kid because of that signature funny feeling about it but apparently i fully locked away those memories lol. its even funnier because i usually get squicked out by regular degradation/humiliation/pain stuff but i guess this specifically is fine for some reason? its also one of those ones where i prefer it completely removed from any fantasy where i am actually involved so maybe thats why (ace and not particularly interested in actual sex. you might remember me from one or more of the forcemasc anons a while back lol)
I've gotten a few wedgie anons before so you're definitely not alone. It's one of my earliest kinks tbh even though it's not something I think about much now. But like, when I was a kid, and I watched the episode of The Amanda Show where the lady doctor gets a wedgie? That had an impact on me.
Checking in on someone who used to draw a lot of forcefem and seeing a brand new "Pronouns: She/Her" on her page made me unexpectedly happy. Not because becoming a woman is necessarily an improvement, but finding out a part of yourself through artistic expression is always wonderful. Happy for her :) (idk why I wanted to share with you specifically but I think you're super cool so it was probably that)
Yeah, that's awesome!
Cleaning dream anon here: what’s your fee for a cleaner? By which I obviously mean how much do I need to pay you to be allowed to scrub your floors with my tits shaking and lick your toilet clean and only be allowed a break when you have gas or need a punching bag?
As much as you can pay, obviously.
Im the non sexual doscomfort anon and i need you to know that you calling me ‘the mark’ made me loterally whimper, out loud, very pathetixally. And then let my sinner go cold before eating it because it seemes like you would apprectaite that.
lmao sometimes "the sub" just doesn't sound right you know
i "discovered" a new kink of mine thanks to some anons a while back: forcefamily. being lured into a couples car because they asked you to help load their groceries but, oh no, looks like they left their keys up front and the only way in is through the trunk. so you crawl in and... click! welcome to the family, kiddo!
that sounds like it'd be a horror movie from the past ten years that I hate but everyone else calls groundbreaking
to the anon who sent a message about not being into bimbofication but into being a creepy loser girl: I hope you know that bimbo x loser as you described is gonna be my warm up project for when I buckle down to write soon
content!
Forcefem was very unpopular and considered transmisogynistic just years ago by popular tumblr. It's even considered that way now if it's called 'sissy' or 'sissification' kink. That it's now being considered woke is very silly to me, but at least people aren't getting into fights over it anymore (<- irony)
If I were a pretentious fuckwit like some of the forcefem girlies on this site I'd say sissification is the good kind and everyone else is into some real poser ass lame bullshit but since I'm Cool and Nice I'm just like yeah everyone can enjoy what they like.
Whenever life gets hard I remind myself that I have beatable udders and no self esteem and therefore Velvet would find a use for me
I sure would anon.
every now and then (though, admittedly, it happens rarely), i see transmasc transformation comics/sequences being reposted with the posters jumbling up the pictures in reverse order or just claiming it's read from right to left so it's a male to female TF comic instead and also denying that it's female to male and i'm like ??? there's twenty male to female TF comics for every female to male TF, like, you (in general, not you as a person) don't have to do that, there's so much content for you :/ it also happens with a bunch of kinks that have a bit more of a female character focus, but i just noticed it here again
that reminds me when my favorite kink artist (Octoboy) was objecting to having art he made edited to be about girls since he made content specifically intending to fill niches for people who liked boys
Octoboy's art is actually responsible for about 80% of me liking boys lmao I was so so lucky to get a commission from him a decade or more ago when he was still fairly cheap because he deservedly charges way more now
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changelingsandothernonsense · 10 months ago
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Wips on Wedsdays
He kiddos, it's actually my Wednesday so imma post a few wips. tagging @thequeenofthewinter @archangelsunited @kookaburra1701 @rhiannon1199 @viss-and-pinegar @saltymaplesyrup @rainpebble3 @throughtrialbyfire @rosette-dragonborn @mareenavee @snippetsrus @snowy-weather No pressure, this is all just for funs <3
We got art and a smidgen of writing:
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Starting with a close-up of the tat details in the render I'm working on. This redo that isn't purely a redo is coming along well. Just gotta add three more tattoos and alllllllll of his scars. Full art and a writing snippet under the cut.
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IDK I think it's going well so far ;) and a snippet from Sleepers Awake chapter 7
Teldryn hated tombs. He hated tombs, the undead, the fucking bleached ash that covered the floor after centuries of recycling the same old fucking urns! He hated the way the tombs would wind like a maze. These halls had turned him around to the point of utter confusion! Teldryn hated having to enter the halls of the Dunmeri dead. It creeped him out, to put it bluntly. He had complained about this assignment, of course. It was the last thing he expected when Cosades sent him to go meet with a Blades informant who studied over at the Balmora Mages Guild. The old sugar-tooth had been vague about what this might entail. Just telling him that the notes he got from his last mission weren’t fucking enough and he had to go bother some mage about a fucking myth! The Nerevarine, how fucking ridiculous! The expectation with these missions seemed to be something along the lines of ‘a favour for a favour’ and the mage he’d been sent to, an orc named Sham gra-Muzgob was asking one hell of a fucking favour! She was after the skull of some poor sod named Llevule Andrano. That meant he had to break into the Andrano Ancestral Tomb out on the Bitter Coast. Shit was pretty much a one-way ticket to an execution if he was caught. When he’d mentioned that, the woman merely replied- “Then don’t upset the natives when you do it.” Cosades had said this would be a ‘silly little errand’. How the fuck is desecrating the remains of a member of a fucking hugely influential family in House Redoran a silly little errand? Then there was the justification gra-Muzgob gave him for all of this shit. Something about his people’s death practices being primitive, superstitious nonsense. Teldryn had held his tongue as best as he could. The last thing he wanted was to be thrown in fucking Fort Moonmoth again. The shit they did there…he was glad they’d only pulled out his toenails. Teldryn sucked in a deep breath, trying his best to calm his nerves as he stepped into what he hoped was the chamber that this skull was being kept in. “Look for the one with the ritual markings,” he murmured under his breath as he pulled down the old, silk scarf he’d taken from Suran. A keepsake he allowed himself amongst the things of his that his mother managed to save after his grandfather had thrown most of his belongings into the fire. Llaro had really tried to erase his existence entirely. He wanted to shake the hand of the guy who killed the miserable old cunt! Teldryn tapped his fingers on the rough chitin of his pauldron as her scanned the small, sand-coloured room. Carved into the earth thousands of years ago, the clay walls were smooth and rounded around the edges. His eyes fell on what looked like a small altar at the lip of a pool of ashes. An enchanted chitin dagger and a skull with something carved into its forehead, Daedric runes by the looks of it. Red pigment coloured the thin grooves in the bone. It made him shudder as he knelt down by the altar and stared into Llevule Andrano’s hollow eye sockets. He wondered if he should say something before he went and just took the thing. He knew that there was some sermon that one would recite when they visited the dead. Something that eased the ancestor’s spirit of some shit like that. He had never actually listened to what was said in those sermons. Never listened to the shit spoken by the temple priests either. Honestly, he found it boring, preferring instead to disappear into his own head whenever they started to rattle on. Shit was way more entertaining…until his mind became the enemy of course. He longed for that simplicity. Shit was folly. Teldryn wracked his brain for something appropriate to say. Sure, he might not have cared much for the Tribunal’s teachings as a kid but fuck if he wasn’t bitterly fucking aware of how wrong this all seemed. Teldryn sighed as he took the skull into his shaking hands, opting to mutter a simple “Sorry,” to the spirit before he pulled his scarf from around his neck and wrapped the skull in it before he carefully placed it into his pack.
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grapecaseschoices · 9 months ago
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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."
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3] "Who invented white allosexuals, like for real? Someone return this woman to sender."
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4] "We're not even four days into a fucking New Year and this shit stain is stinkin' up the place."
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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."
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6] "I know you've probs been lied to lately. But you're really not cute."
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7] "He obvi picked bad pics on purpose, you Italian booger."
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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."
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9] "Um, excuse you. I'm not reckless. What 'bout me screams the self sacrifice type?"
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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."
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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, …."
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12] “Ow! Fudging snowcaps! That bitch hur –” They stopped mid-yelling but simply began complaining underneath their breath.
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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.
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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]
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scatterbrainedbot · 1 year ago
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RAT SONS LORE DUMP #1
THE HAMATO FAMILY
okay so im looking at my first few character sheets and theres a little bit of lore/context i want to give just to clarify, specifically about the last generation (of humans) in the Hamato lineage
(long text heavy post ahead!)
so background:
in the 03 version of tmnt The Ancient One (who is not a Hamato) essentially adopts three children: Hamato Yoshi, Yukio Mashimi, Tang Shen (girls dont get surnames i guess??) They seemed to have been explicitly raised as siblings. Still, love triangle trope was hungry ig. Both boys fell in love w Tang Shen and she fell for Yoshi. to which Mashimi said ‘alright bet’ and killed her. i cant even laugh at him for his pathetic Nice Guy “i was nice to you for years and u wont have sex with me???” tantrum cos like. sir, that is ur sister. boy howdy. all of yall need to go meet some other people.
mostly i chalk that whole mess up to the fact that the writing of women in most media in the early 2000s lacking like idk?? any actual characterization?? an ounce of consideration??? not a single braincell?? they were mostly just there to be a means to some plot trope, rather than an actual character in and of themselves — like im amazed april came out as lovely as she did, with her own like life and skills and autonomy (her big sis vibes in 03 are so so nice, and tbh i love her whole character a lot — still lots of misogyny moments in her writing too but im not trying to do an analysis into that rn)
so anywho!!
for the rat sons au, i decided to go ahead and scrap all the incesty undertones (idk, are those undertones? seems p straight up to me?) and completely revamp the origins of The Ancient One, Tang Shen and Yoshi <3 (and Mashimi too ig, but he essentially got cut out entirely. sucks to suck ya entitled lil douche)
Here's the general lowdown
So, the Hamato clan is one of the oldest and well established in all of Japan. The family rose to prominence in the feudal period of Japan’s history, due to their collective skill in the art of ninjutsu, their dedication, stealth, and discretion. Like most ninja, they were assassins available to hire, either for killing or simple sabotage, for politics or personal matters – though no matter the task, a Hamato’s loyalty was always to the head of the Family over their client.
Beyond their reputation as a ninja clan though, the Hamatos also had a reputation for being extremely generous to their community and highly protective of the less fortunate. (think kinda Al Capone vibes, like oh these bitches hella dangerous. but also. will def tip over $100 soooo…) This did lead to occasional conflict of interests during assignments/contracts. Most Hamatos would then seek the advice of the head of the family, and follow their lead, be it to the benefit of their client, or not.
(This also led to several members either abandoning the clan, or being killed by their clients for failed action etc etc)
As time passes and we reach the mid twentieth century or so, there is only one final heir to the Hamato lineage. A young man, named Hamato Sho. Sho spent his youth trying to serve his family and honor their name etc etc etc. But ultimately, this got him caught up in a lot of corrupt powerful nonsense that he eventually walked away from after the death of his friend.
This friend had left behind a young daughter, Tang Shen. Since he knew she had no other family to claim her, Sho took her in, expecting to only be a temporary foster at most. Surprise! this quiet five year old kiddo melted old mans cynical heart to absolute mush. his daughter now bitch.
He only ever adopted the one child, and he adored her sm. and he tried his best to be a good papa. he nurtured her curiosity and engaged in her interests and taught her everything he knew, without ultimatums or concerns about family names. at times he could have probably been considered very lax in his parenting, or far too lenient or undisciplined, but as a kid that grew up suffocated by watching eyes and guiding hands and Destiny capital D, i think that by giving his child room to be her own person and do her own shit (especially in her teenage years) he was in fact showing her a level trust and pride than he never had been given himself. basically he did everything he could to give her the exact opposite childhood he himself had (like rise splints <3)
Because of Sho’s encouragement, Tang Shen grows up to be a very independent soul, whos never met a problem she can jerry-rig, bodily move, or roundhouse kick into being fixed. She also becomes a fucking badass ninja master (and mystic warrior, lol) though mostly all she wants in life is the maintain the quiet little farm her father has started. maybe kiss the cute boy from town who walks her home sometimes (even though he lives the other direction.)
Meanwhile, Yoshi (surname pending) is in fact not a Hamato. Yet, at least. he, however, is that cute boy from town who walks home with Tang Shen most days and has been absolutely smitten with her since like fourth grade lol
(theyre besties for like a decade before they officially start to date. They get together finally after Tang Shens been trying to figure out a good date idea (one that isnt just something they already do) to ask him on for like a month, and Yoshi just leans over and kisses her goodbye super casual one day cos he thought they already had been dating for like. six months. cue her delight and his abject horror (he never wouldve kissed her if he didnt think that was already established as okay. p sure he even like asked her before randomly like, hey is it alright if i kiss u goodbye? and she was like ????? ok??? is this cos of ur european studies class. theyre both very silly) shes gonna tease him so bad about all of this. and tell Sho. Yoshi will never know peace again /affectionate)
Mashimi doesnt make any real appearance in their story i dont think. Like he might be a friend of Yoshi’s in elementary school. probably had a tiny start of a crush on Tang Shen when they were small and tried to take the ‘pull pigtails on the playground’ route of getting her attention. what he got was a kick to the chest and a broken nose. never came near her again after that. (eventually started avoiding Yoshi too since he was with Tang Shen all the time)
All that being said though, im afraid Tang Shen is not fully free of curse of the unwanted suitor. The Hamato name still carries a fair amount of pull, after all, and there are some very dangerous people looking to make some claim to its influence.....
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madhatterbri · 11 months ago
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Demon of Love | F.B.
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Summary: They make cheesy Valentines Day cards for each other together with their favorite candy attached.
Requested by @theworldofotps
Pure fiction.
You pulled the baked goods from the oven and closed the door with your foot before placing the hot pan on the cooling rack. Today was the day before Valentine's Day, and you were hard at work making sure the Valentine's Day party was perfect for your students. They did really well on mid-year testing, and they deserved a break.
You sat back down on the kitchen chair to continue your arts and crafts project. Different colored juice boxes sat at your table. You glued different types of arts and crafts pieces to make them look like little bugs. They were called love bug juices.
To curb the sugar intake, you decided to buy other snacks for the kiddos. Bags of chips are also laid out on the table. They had a tiny clip on them with a sign that said they were all that and a bag of chips! Bananas of all sizes laid on the table with a sticker that read I'm bananas for you.
Your boyfriend came home from the gym. He announced his return after working out at the gym. You called back to him that you were in the kitchen. He walked towards your location and stopped suddenly.
"Holy moly," Finn spoke with, his eyes widened. It was like walking into your classroom on the last day of school. The kitchen was littered with fun things for the students.
"Sorry, I promise I will clean it up," you apologized sheepishly. He smiled and kissed the top of your head.
"Need any help?" He offered. You gladly accepted.
Within an hour, the rest of the treats were done. Finn helped you by loading them into the car. You cleaned up the kitchen to look presentable once more. The last little things on the table were leftover arts and crafts supplies. A cute idea popped into your head.
"Honey, I'm finished," he informed you and leaned against the doorway.
"I have some leftover candy. Want to make some cheesy Valentine's Day cards with me, my prince of love?" You asked and showed him the snack size of his favorite candy.
"Feeling festive, aren't we darling?" He asked and sat at the opposite side of you.
The kitchen was filled with laughter and talks of the memories you made together. A couple of times, the two of you caught the other sneaking candy for themselves. Before the end of the night, you were sitting on his lap. A wine bottle lay empty on the table. His finger traced random shapes on your back. Your head was laid on his shoulder.
"I must confess darling. This was so much better than the ones I made growing up," he admitted and handed you the card he made for you. He drew himself in demon form. He wrote that you bring out his inner demon of love. You couldn't help but laugh at the cheesiness.
You placed your favorite candy in your mouth and handed him the card you made him. A pizza in the shape of a heart was drawn in the middle of the card. The words "Here's your cheesy valentines Day" card were around the drawing. He tried to keep his laugh in. The alcohol put the two of you in a giggly mood.
You stood up from his lap, swaying a little from the alcohol. "I'm just honored to be in the same room as the demon of love,"
"I may be your demon of love," he smiled and grabbed your hand. He started to lead you towards the bedroom. "But I can show you how much of a demon in other things I can be,"
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joeyquinndrabz · 2 years ago
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Inked- Joseph Quinn x Reader
TW: none im trying to give you guys a break from the angst I have in my drafts 😭
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Being a tattoo artist was a dream you’d had since you were a kid. Your friends would laugh and tell you to ‘get real’ but you knew it’s what you wanted to do and so you did. Your grandfather was a tattoo artist in London and became highly respected by the whole city, everyone wanted a tattoo from your grandfather and so did you. When you were 18, he gave you your first tattoo after years of pestering. His talent was impeccable and his art was your inspiration. You soon began an apprenticeship at his shop and , it must be in the genes, because you’re very good at it too. Of course you were aware of the privilege you had due to your grandads high status, but it didn’t mean you didn’t have to work hard. It took years of practice to get to the level you’re at now, but being 28 and working alongside your 68 year old grandad was the gift that kept on giving. His guidance was still so important to you and your relationship was unbreakable. He wasn’t your stereotypical elder male tattoo artist, his style was still the same as it had been in the 70s. Checkered button ups, flares, docs and a very impressive moustache. He was ridiculously cool, your grandma was the same. A stylish woman with a blue rinse on her grey hair and she was always sporting a pair of new glasses. She worked on the front desk, greeting each client with a smile and being the first point of contact to ease that anxiety many of them had. It was a family run business and a great one at that.
It’d been a busy day, it was a Saturday and you’d tattooed a lot of people and a lot of different things. You were getting ready to pack up when your Grandfather could be heard chuckling out in the corridor. There were two different male voices that followed and curiosity killed the cat, you wanted to find out more.
“Ahh this is my wonderful granddaughter I’ve been talking about. She’ll enjoy this one lads.” He chuckled at the two mystery men as he pulled you in for a side hug. “Enjoy what?” You questioned, smiling at the two strangers. “It’s slightly embarrassing but we got very drunk and stick and picked out initials onto each others feet but they’re not looking the best.” One of them told you, you noticed the curtains he was sporting and the slight permanent smirk that was stuck on his face. “Yeah not our brightest idea.” The other man laughed, you noticed something different with this one. He was looking directly at you, admiring your tattoos with each passing of his eyes. It was cute. He was cute.
“Let’s get you lads sorted, I’ll do yours Wesley and Y/N can do Joe’s. I won’t make you do them both kiddo you’ve been here since 6.” Your grandad aimed the last bit at you, you smiled and nodded before taking Joe into your part of the studio.
“I’m really sorry about this, I didn’t know you’d been here that long. I’m more than happy to get it fixed another day.” The man who you now knew as Joe was rambling and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Honestly it’s fine, if you were coming in for a back piece then I would’ve said otherwise but I’m sure we can fix this in no time.” You smiled at him as you handed him the consent forms. “Do people genuinely come in last minute for things like that?” He asked whilst signing all the needed paperwork. “You’d be surprised, we don’t actually do walk ins but my grandads had a rule that if he likes your ‘vibe’ then he’ll allow it in some cases.” This caught Joes attention, looking up at you from the clipboard to give you a massive smile that you could only assume was because he’d realised he met your grandads criteria. “He’s a cool man.” Joe continued to smile as he handed you the papers back. “He’s my favourite discussion point, the man’s a walking, talking 70s masterpiece.” You laughed and soon heard him joining in with you. “I’d kill to have him as my grandad, you’re very lucky.” Joe was admiring the art on the walls, walking closer to his favourites then standing back with a tilted head to take it all in. “I’m forever grateful for him, he’s the reason I do what I do.” You smiled to yourself, getting ready to fix the drunken scribble on his foot. “Looks like you’re pretty bloody good at it too, love.” He turned to face you, admiration on his face. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You shyly smiled back before asking him all the boring questions required.
Joe was now sat on the tattoo bed, showing you the tattoo in all its glory. “I mean.” You tried to find the words but struggled with a chuckle.
“Yeah I know I think Wes was shaking a little bit.” Joe grimaced before laughing with you. “It’s an easy fix don’t worry, are you okay for me to start?” You asked, in a weird way hoping he’d say no so you had more time to talk to him and hear more about his life. But he was ready, he told you he was more than ready and watched you as you got to work.
“You ok?” Looking up from the W and to Joe, you’d expected him to flinch or say something about the pain but he didn’t. Instead his face was plastered with a picture perfect smile. “Peachy keen darlin’.”
You were aware of the blush spreading on your face so got back to fixing the W and soon you had finished, wiping it down and wrapping it up.
“There we are, all finished.” You beamed and watched as Joe admired it in the mirror. “It’s perfect, thank you so much.” He mirrored your expression, happy there was now some symmetry to his drunken decision. “You’re more than welcome, grandad will sort out the payment and everything when Wesley’s finished.” You explained as you began cleaning up your station.
Soon the pair were at the front desk, paying for their tattoos and laughing with your grandad. You were still cleaning up so hadn’t realised they’d left due to your fixation on making the studio ready for you tomorrow morning.
“Knock,knock.” Your grandad announced his presence and walked in with a massive grin on his face. “What’s got you smiling so wide?” You laughed at his animated demeanour as he slowly approached you with his hands behind his back. He sat on the bench and smirked, before pulling his hands from his back to reveal a piece of paper and five £20 notes. “You got a big tip and a new admirer.” He laughed before handing you the money and the note. “But it was a tiny tattoo?” You were in shock, complete and utter shock.
“Read the note.” Your grandad pressed, leaning forward in anticipation. “Grandad!” You exclaimed,laughing at his eagerness. “Oh Cmon kiddo I’m dying over here.” He laughed back.
You opened the note and scanned the page with your eyes, a smile growing after each letter.
I’m sorry if this is totally inappropriate and i completely understand if you rip this up but just wanted to say I really enjoyed getting tattooed by you today and I’d love to get to know you more. Here’s my number, again I’m sorry if this isn’t appropriate I just think you’re pretty incredible and I’d love to get to know you more.
The tip is because you’re a brilliant artist and I hope you treat yourself with it and get something to help ease the stress of today.
All the best,
Joe
XXX
You grabbed your phone and copied the number into your phone immediately, passing your grandad the note before going outside to ring Joe.
“Hello?” He answered, anxiety evident in his voice.
“I’m leaving here in 10 minutes, fancy sharing a couple glasses of wine with that tip?” You had no idea where this confidence had emerged from but nether the less you were extremely thankful for it.
“Darlin’ that’d be a dream.”
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lablass-2882 · 11 months ago
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Happy Cody Day!
So, in Honor of Cody Day (2/2/24), that I completely didn’t.....somewhat.... forget about until last minute.  I attempted to draw some cute fan art of Cody with all his nieces and nephews from my Clone kiddo Au.
And.....
I didn’t like it.  It just wasn’t working the way I wanted it to.  So, I tried something else.  And that looked terrible.  So I went for attempt number 3 aaaannnnd.... you can guess how that went.
Anyway
Here is a cute little short story instead featuring Cody and one of his nieces from my whacky AU.
Story below the cut.
Enjoy.
“Ow...”
“Sorry.” Cody mumbled.
“They don't have to be....kandos” A small voice mumbled. (Perfect)
“Ba’vod is almost done. This will only take a moment.” (Uncle)
“Gar said megin eyn hour’ago.” The small voice retorted. (You said that an hour ago.)
Cody huffed as he stared down at his messy work.  Despite weeks of careful planning, endless research, and diligent practice..... he really sucked at braiding.  In particular, he sucked at braiding hair.  There was something about braiding hair chaffed him to no end.  His braids were always uneven, messy, and, quite frankly, just inadequate.  He was just really bad at it.  He always had been and he expected that he always would be.  Much to his young and fidgety niece’s bad luck.
Now, Taliyah, or Tally for short, was trying her best to sit still.  But she was also a ten-year old child who really, really wanted to go play with the other kids in the yard.  What had started as a simple request for twin braids in her hair had turned into a battle of attrition for the young girl.  She had been so blissfully unaware of Cody’s utter disdain for braids.  And now, two hours later, her patience was reaching a breaking point. So, in a moment of defeat.....Cody throw in the towel and let the messy braids win.
“Alright, I guess that will have to do.” He huffed out.  “So, how do they look?”
He handed Tally a small mirror to look at her braids.  Her pale purple hair was so different than Cody’s own.  It was softer than the hair of the clones and had more of a wavy curl when compared to the tight curls that he and Vod’s sported.  This made his usual styling techniques and tricks ineffective on most days.  Especially braids.  But Tally didn’t seem to care about the messy braids or their uneven alignment, as a bright smile blossomed across her face.
“Val're Kandosii! I Love it, Ba’vod Kote!” (They’re perfect.)
Whirling around to face him, Cody was met with a tight hug and a wide toothy grin that made his heart melt.
“Ori'vor'e, ori’vor’e!” (An excited thank you expression.) The young girl chimed.  “Now I have braids too.  Just like Aurora and the ashi’vods.” (other kids)
Cody hummed and nodded along with her excitement.  He honestly thought that he could have done better, but if his niece was happy.  That was all that mattered. 
“Now, these won’t last all day, okay.  I don’t think your hair is long enough to leave the braids in like the others.  If they start to get loose, come and find me to fix it.  Utre’la?” (Means alright or clear.)
“Ultre’la.” Tally nodded.
Cody doubted that the braids would last for very long.  Not with how the kids played, it would be a miracle if they stayed for the rest of the day.  Plus, Tally’s hair really wasn’t long enough for tight braids. Aurora, Neo, and Ulh’ta all had hair similar to him and his vods, and it could hold tight braids.  While most of Tally’s hair had been chopped off during her surgery. It was starting to grow back, but at a snail’s pace.  He had tried to explain that to her when she asked him about putting braids in her hair....... but her pleading eyes broke down any resistance he had. So, this old clone soldier dug out his styling tools and attempted to make his ad'ika happy. (niece, nephew, child, etc.) Maybe Rex was right, and he had grown soft.
“May I go play in the yard now? Geedet’te Ba’vod Kote.” Tally chimed. (Please, uncle Cody.)
“You may.” He sighed.  “But be careful and no climbing things.”
“Okay.” She chirped while trying to wiggle out of his grip.
“Especially trees.”
“I won’t.”
“And no hitting the other kids.”
“Shi meh val nynir ni sol'yc” (Only if they hit me first.)
“Tal’ika.”
“I promise I won’t.” Tally giggled before running off.  Metal feet clanged against the floors as she ran.  Pausing momentarily at the doorframe before turning back to face him, “kar’taylir darasuum, Ba’vod Kote.” (Love you, Uncle Cody.) And with that, she was off.
Cody signed and went to pick up his tools.  “Kar'taylir darasuum gar too ad'ika.” (Love you too, little one.)
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And there you have it. A nice short and sweet like fic.
Apologies for no doodles or drawings. I attempted so many different ideas, but drawing.exe in my brain just wasn't working. So I went with a short story instead.
Anyway, see y'all next time.
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