#not on a 'oh hes hot level' but more personality based

[multyshipping]

did Capitano REALLY have to be voiced by one of my ex-f/OS vas... LIKE REALLY?

[ratgingi]

woe characters inspired by some of my cats be upon ye. info on them in my tags lol

[starstruckgrrl]

✿﹒wanna, wanna, gotta, gotta, give it to you ! ~ enji todoroki / endeavor

‧₊˚ ෆ synopsis: endeavor remarries your mother, but finds you so much more enticing.

𓍢 ִ ໋ ⊹ warnings: endeavor lol, smut, age-gap (not underage), step-cest, sugar daddy type beat, sub!reader, spoiled reader, daddy kink

a/n: hey guys!! i’m gonna start posting some more about my personal interests n kinks n stuff!! however, you’re totally free to req whatever u like and i’ll answer them asap :3 title is loosely based on give it away by red hot chili peppers, that song is kind of how i feel like loving endeavor would feel tbh...

you and your daddy had made yourselves a routine. harboring hatred for everyone around him had huge consequences on his stress levels, so you were in charge of regulating that for him.

endeavor would come home, change into a tank top and sweatpants, and sit on the couch to breathe. he never missed the opportunity to strut around the house to show off, knowing how attractive you thought he was. while your mother was out running errands, enji calls for you to come sit on his lap on the couch. he combs through your hair and presents you with a gift, that new coach bag you've been wanting! "thank you, daddy!!" you say as you look up at him, giving him a big smile. "you're welcome, princess. why don't you give daddy a proper thank you?" you giggle excitedly and get down on your knees in front of him on the floor. he parts his legs to let you gain access to his cock, and you pull it out like a child opening presents on christmas day. maybe you were a little cock-brained, but who wouldn't be when your daddy's dick was so perfect? it was thick and long, with two prominent veins on the side. the tip was cute and pink and dribbled when you would tease and grind on him. the curve would stimulate you oh-so-good when he fucked into you, no matter what pace he was going at. you wrap your hands around it, pumping it slowly and licking the tip. you flatten your tongue and lick long strips from the base to the tip, finally taking it in your mouth and trying your best to take it all. his hand cups your head and his thumb strokes your head as he huffs and whispers out praises to you. "you're daddy's good girl, baby." he says, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. you know better than to talk with your mouth full, and move your hands to cup his balls and play with them softly. you took his cock out of your mouth to lick his balls and care for them while stroking him, paying extra attention to squeeze around the tip. he moves his hand to the back of your head to push you towards him further, and you breathe in his smell. he smells so fucking good and manly, and you can't help but savor it as you take his balls in your mouth and lick them. "gonna cum, princess. swallow for me, don't want to leave a mess for your mom to find and know what we've been doing." you move to his cock and your daddy grabs the back of your head to throat-fuck you until he cums and there's tears coming out of your eyes. he bucks up into you as he releases his cum all the way down your throat. when he releases you, you're huffing and puffing for a moment before you can open your mouth to show that you've swallowed it all. "what do you say for the meal, baby?" "thank you, daddy!"

[navillee]

hiii i've been an avid fan of your tumblr hehe and i've been meaning to request you this >< so we know that zayne is a teetotaler but BUT do you perhaps have any ideas/headcanons on how he would act if he's drunk? bet he can get drunk with just a sip of an alcohol and be a clingy mess towards mc 🤤

Oh, sweetie, it will be a pleasure to tell you Zayne has different dimensions depending on the levels of alcohol on his blood. The facade of his demure behavior would start presenting fissures, escalating to a total decay.

❆ Level 1 tipsy Zayne ࿐

• As a person who's not into any sort of vice — despite being ready to fight a god just so he can get laid by his woman every life possible, that doesn't count — Zayne only drink alcohol at social gatherings, more specifically, when someone makes a toast or when his colleagues bother to insist;

Zayne doesn't drink for two reasons: he thinks alcohol is very much overrated — sugar taste better 100% of the time, it doesn't need to keep forcing ingestion to start feeling palatable — and second of all, he's terrified of not being able to control his own mind;

But surprisingly, when he participates in a toast or just gives a little sip on some drink, he doesn't lose composure at first. Rather than that, he feels even more shy. He's trying too hard not to sink into the suave fluttering sensation that small sip of champagne/wine gave him;

He feels like he's committing a sin. How dare him? Making himself so vulnerable to his own profane thoughts, lingering into his brain like a sweet, sweet poison, making his eyes remain seconds more on your frame at the other side of the room;

He's a sinner. His pure as the driven snow facade falling abruptly from grace when he realized he's already unable to control his body temperature. That evil poison flows through his blood, making he feel so hot. It's like the room is gradually turning into a representation of hell, where sinners like him belong to;

The things gotten even worse when you approached him again, randomly giving him praises such as "pretty" or "handsome" just because he's wearing a suit you picked out for him. Oh, that heat comes up from his torso to his ears and cheeks. He's not the confident demure Zayne anymore. That's why he can't look into your eyes like the sober version of himself. He's just a corrupted shadow from a twisted world where everything is just in flames, and he's not able to control his own body temperature nor face you;

Make sure to make him look into your eyes, watch that needy glimmer on his eyes while his cheeks and neck turn into a pretty shade of red. He'll try to avoid you, but again, the warm feeling is so good that he knows that he physically needs to let the control go at some point;

He wants to let go. But would you accept him as your devoted? When all he is, is nothing but a dirty sinner?

❆ Level 2 tipsy Zayne ࿐

That's a level further, that, just as level 3, only you had witnessed. It's already rare to see level one tipsy, so you got surprised when you watched that dimension of Zayne blooming in front of you;

It usually happens when you two go out together to a new restaurant, especially the ones that have Italian or French cuisine, the ones that offer high-quality wine cellar. When you got sweet-grape-based alcohol drink and a doctor's sweet teeth together, you know, because the next day is his day off, that you're the one driving Zayne home tonight;

It takes the right conditions for him to get himself that tipsy; it's like seeing a double rainbow or else;

Tipsy Zayne is the dictionary's definition of a simp;

If he was already crumbling on level one, at level two, he's a whole new demeanor. That's the level he's not able to hold his thoughts — and tongue — anymore, so even though he's still a blushing mess, he will share with you how needy he truly is;

Zayne will compliment you, confess that the fact you didn't send him any sort of message/meme/emoji during his shift got him worried and upset, would reveal how many times he thought of you that day...he just will keep mumbling in simp language;

"Mamit- Manipja***...that's a word. learned last week? ...can't remember. It'sooo trusfating...I feel that every.time. we'retogether." *intensively blushes while looking deep into your soul. Looks away, all blushed and randomly change the topic.*

Will land you his coat anyway cause this man can lose an arm he'll still be top tier gentleman;

Zayne would grab your hand from the other side of the table and kiss it, rubbing his cheeks on the palm of your hand. It's a sign to head home;

The last time you delayed heading home when he start doing that hand kissing thing you two ended up fucking in the car;

Zayne is more desperate when he's like that. He always gets this urge under control when he's sober. However when he's tipsy, his beggingmometer would have a lower resistance;

Entering his home, stumbling on every corner, not knowing if it is the alcohol effect of the heat of the lustful kiss you're both sharing that's making his mind so foggy;

"Hmm...oh, fuck~~ᝰ.ᐟ𖹭ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢ Let me kneel, yeah? P-please let me kneel for you? I-i promise will be a good boy~ᝰ.ᐟ"

He would get more vocal, moaning depravedly, mumbling sweet nothings and revealing how much perverted thoughts he has;

Zaynw would get overwhelmed more easily, so he probably will cry during sex by how good it feels, and he can't take anymore orgasm denials;

It would be a total mess at the end, but a total cuddly boyfriend, asking for praises and drooling all over your collarbones at the aftercare;

Zyane would be an adorable vulnerable needy mess that deserves all the love and praise.

❆ Zayne Drunk level ࿐

It was only once in your lifetime that you witnessed this side of Zayne. And you never want to see it again, at least not at the setting of events that make it occur;

It was when you both had given at time to your relationship, not knowing exactly if you two would actually come back to each other. You and Zayne had broken up in some bad terms after a huge argument involving jealousy at work environment, plus you being wreckless as a hunter;

Two weeks after the break up, you decided to get back your things that still remained on his house;

When you entered his house — you still had the extra keys with you — you couldn't witness something more unexpected: the house that used to be all tidy up all the time was in a state of calamity. Zayne's dress clothes remained on the couch or careless on the floor, unwashed. There's work papers on every table surface possible, together with some high alcoholic elixir bottles here and there. All empty.

When you heard erratic steps walking towards you, you turned around to see Zayne failing his own gravity center when he tried to get closer. He was in a pitiful condition, the puffy red eyes announcing he probably had been crying or severely sleep deprived;

When he saw you, his eyes lighted up, and he desperately fell into his knees, begging forgiveness;

Even when he's on his most pathetic self, Zayne would never forget to kneel to you. After two weeks of trying to distract his mind, exhausting himself with work and alcohol, all he wanted was to have you back into his life again. He couldn't bear the idea of his life without your presence. So he cried and begged, and you hugged him, petting his hair, comforting him. He trembled on your embrace, warm tears soaking your neck as you, just like magic soothed him down. Poor doctor, bad as handling alcohol just as not being on mc's loving arms.

*** mamihlapinatapai: word to describe the feeling to people have when they're staring each other face a face, they wanna take action, but at the same time they both know none of them will make a move.

[mutable-manifestation]

Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 3

Part 1 & 2

***

The lab is empty when they get to Fenton Works, his parents busy off helping the JLD wherever it was they were working from.

The journey the rest of the way to the Far Frozen passes relatively quickly under the weight of discussing how to reverse engineer the sarcophagus of forever sleep to make Naptime Box 2: Vlad Edition.

Could they probably just beat him up with the right plan and aid? Sure. But then they risk having to play royal hot potato (Danny doesn't want it and he doubts most of the allies he has would want the extra responsibility. Assuming there are responsibilities - Danny wouldn't know since there hasn't been a king, for all intents and purposes, since well before he became a halfa so who knows what the position even means in the context of the Zone).

Plus it would be way more satisfying to shove him in a box. Vlad gets a nice long nap and Danny gets to live the rest of his half-life without worrying about his Dad getting stabbed or something if Vlad starts feeling impatient.

It would also give Danny plenty of time to find some way to buy the Packers - not because he wants them, just because it would be really funny if Vlad eventually woke up to find that the only thing he wanted other than Maddie was now also very permanently out of reach.

The city of Green Bay could fold eventually, after all. But Danny? Danny would never yield, just to spite him, and Vlad would know that.

He probably won't actually do it, seeing as a) expensive and b) probably complicated.

But it would be really funny.

Their discussion on the ethics of using the Fenton Stockades as the base for the Box cut off as they land.

Without the distraction of their chat the adrenaline of panic comes rushing back, and he transforms as he steps out of the Speeder, nyooming to hover in front of Frostbite so quickly that the entire welcoming party - Frostbite somehow manages to have one arranged every time he drops by, and Danny is usually willing to at least try and indulge them since it seems to make them happy - jolts in surprise.

"Greetings!" Frostbite smiles wide, arms open in a grand welcoming, the only hint of lingering surprise the trails of slightly puffed up fur up his arms and the sides of his neck that has already mostly smoothed itself back out. "The Far Frozen welcomes the Great One and friends-"

"Hey Frostbite sorry for being abrupt but I'm kind of freaking out and you seemed like the best person - uh, ghost to go to because you always seem to know lots of things and I kind of need to know what's going on as soon as possible just in case it's a worst case scenario because the Justice League came to talk to my parents about some papers and I probably haven't mentioned them to you before because they're awful and I thought my parents made them but surprise I was wrong! Which is good! Except the League was mostly worried about them maybe causing the new ghost king to war with the human realm because apparently there's a supernatural branch of the Justice League and they think there's a new Ghost KingTM as in the Ghost King after Pariah Dark and I'm kind of freaking out because if there is a new ghost king there's actually a chance it's Vlad and oh ancients please tell me it's not Vlad or that the League heard wrong please."

Sam and Tucker had caught up by then, coming to stand on either side of him as Frostbite blinked.

"You are...asking me the identity of the current High King?" He asks, face scrunched in a bewildered expression.

"Oh my gosh Batman was right!?" He floats a bit higher at the news. "Please just tell me it's not Vlad! Uh, Plasmius."

"Plasmius?" Frostbite asks, eyebrows crawling higher. "Certainly not! What in the realms - do you truly not know?"

"Oh thank goodness," Danny sighs, sinking back to his usual level. "Not Vlad, okay, one less disastrous possibility. And whoever it is probably already knows they're the king and nothing bad has happened yet so it's probably fine, right?"

He looks back to meet Frostbite's eyes.

"Wait, nothing bad has happened yet, right? Like, is everything okay? I know Pariah caused you guys a lot of grief before; the new guy 's not going around causing trouble for you and you just haven't told me because you're worried about being a bother, right?" He frets, eyes flicking about, searching for fresh injuries on the various members of the welcoming party.

"...No, Great One," Frostbite answers, blinking away the surprised expression to be replaced by something soft. "Though I, and all the Far Frozen, are honored by your concern. While Pariah Dark is no longer the High King of the Infinite Realms, I can assure you, with utmost certainty, that you have nothing to fear from his successor. But I believe we have much more to discuss. Come, let us find somewhere more comfortable to talk - and get your human friends out of the cold."

***

It didn't take them long to reach a sitting room, and soon enough they were all settled into the enormous, fuzzy chairs in one of the warmer rooms available, Danny and Frostbite each with a cup of shaved ice tea while Sam and Tucker were offered beverages warm enough to steam in deference to their need for warmth.

Once everyone had taken a sip - or bite - Danny launched back into his questioning.

"So did Dark have a kid hidden away somewhere or did some kind of council finally decide on his replacement? Actually can ghosts even have - wait right Box Lunch, forgot about that on purpose but never mind. Or is there some fourth option that isn't those or trial by combat that we didn't think of?"

"Before I answer that, Great One, may I ask why you have already discounted trial by combat?" He returns curiously.

"Because if it was trial by combat it would be Vlad - er, Plasmius - and you already said it isn't him."

"Or it could be you," Tucker ribs, waggling his fingers at him.

"We already talked about why it couldn't be me, Tuck," Danny huffs, rolling his eyes and taking another bite of his... smoothie?

"Oh? And why do you think it would be Plasmius?" Frostbite asks.

"Because! I may have fought Pariah Dark, and sure I put him back in the sarcophagus, but I was running on fumes by that point, and he was still slamming around in there! Vlad, as much as I hate to admit it, is the one that turned the key and made sure he stayed locked away. It took almost everything I had to keep him pinned long enough. If...if he'd been even a few seconds later I probably would've died the rest of the way before he even had the time to break out a second time."

"But had you not put him there, no key would have mattered," Frostbite begins quietly. "Plasmius was no match for Pariah Dark; he was defeated in an instant the first time they clashed."

"Well, yeah, but so was I," he protests, not liking the direction the conversation is beginning to take.

"And yet, you alone went to face him a second time. You alone stood against the King of All Ghosts while your armies clashed."

"Our-!? I didn't have- you mean the ghosts that came to help me???" Danny sputtered, incredulous. "They weren't an army they were just-"

He pauses, searching for words that would not come.

"They were just a large group of ghosts who sided with you, who aided you in combat and kept the multitudes distracted while you went to face their leader alone. However you thought of them at the time, whatever they were to you up till then or are to you now, after, in that moment they were your army."

"Danny's totally the ghost king, isn't he?" Sam drawls after the brief silence that follows.

"Indeed," Frostbite answers her, but he looks Danny in the eyes as he does so. "You are the savior of the Ghost Zone, Pariah's Bane. And you are the High King of the Infinite Realms."

"I cheated!" Danny blurts out, shooting up to float above his chair.

"Cheated?" Frostbite's lips twitch as he fights down a smile.

"I had the Fenton Ecto-Skeleton! That's totally cheating! Don't combat trials have to be honorable or something?!" He begs.

Frostbite chuckles.

"I apologize, Great One, but I am afraid there is no such thing as an honorable war," he says, expression briefly turning solemn. "And even if it were, just as you had your "Ecto-Skeleton," did not Pariah have his ring and crown?

You issued a challenge and he answered, your armies clashed while the two of you stood against each other and each other alone; you alone put him back into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, and you alone held it shut long enough for Plasmius to turn the key.”

Danny drifts back down to his seat as Frostbite speaks, then continues slouching further with every word.

“I am given to understand that Plasmius likes to think of others as pawns on his own personal chessboard,” he says, “But at the time he was but another ghost, come to fight Pariah's army on your behalf - as a member of your army. A pawn, to paraphrase his own words, that you used to topple a king - not through any intentional manipulation, but through the sheer magnetic charisma of your willingness to stand against monsters like Pariah Dark and of your ability to do so. The confidence to stand alongside you that such strength inspires. 

He would not have approached if he did not believe you could win - would not risk endangering himself so. At best, you could consider him a referee, calling the match to a close once it was decisively in your favor.

Plasmius may think of existence as a game with himself as the only player, and he may have been acting in his own self-interest overall, but by every measure, in this instance, he was undeniably your piece.

The Zone itself acknowledges your right to rule by the way the crown of fire sits where you left it, unmoving on the floor of Pariah's keep until the day you finally choose to wear it, no matter how many hands may try to move it."

Frostbite's words are slow and measured, but as undeniable as the creeping of a glacier. And by the time they cease, Danny has sunk so far as to end up an undignified heap on the floor before his chair.

The trio remains silent as they absorb his words.

Minutes pass before Danny finally speaks.

"If the crown can't be taken, then how did I get it from Pariah?" He questions, a final hope that Frostbite may be mistaken.

"It will only remain unmoved until you first put it on. After that, it will be up to you whether it stays safe on your head."

Danny groans his despair, final bit of hope shattered.

"I must apologize again, Great One," he says solemnly. "Had I known you were unaware of your station, I would have informed you sooner."

He frowns heavily, looking into the distance thoughtfully.

"The Observants should have informed you long before now."

"Well, that explains it. The Observants hate Danny's guts," Tucker says.

"To neglect their duties for such a reason...," He trails off, his glower highlighting the inhuman nature of his visage. 

The trio fidget.

Danny coughs after a few seconds of tense silence.

“Uh, speaking of duties,” he begins, relaxing as Frostbite’s expression smooths back into something kind and polite as he listens, “What exactly does the Ghost King even do? Like. Pariah was locked away for… a long time? I guess. So does the Zone even need a King? Can’t I just, like, resign?”

“I suppose it might seem that way from a younger ghost’s perspective - Pariah has been locked away for millenia, after all, and the Zone is still in one piece.” 

Frostbite pauses, leaning back in his seat and taking another bite of his drink. 

“However. What you must understand, Great One, is that the problems caused by the absence of a king in the Infinite Realms are not the whirlwind that such a thing would be in the living realm - social order is affected, but the speed of bureaucracy is slower by orders of magnitude in the Realms, and there is not the same level of inter-reliance that the living tend to require - but rather, they are winds and waters sliding against a rock, chipping away at it bit by bit until it is either worn smooth… or the whole structure collapses under its own weight.”

“How does not having a king cause dimensional collapse!?” Tucker shrieks, clutching his cup like a lifeline.

“How long do we have before it collapses?” Sam asks urgently not a second later.

“Oh shit, how long do we have before it collapses???” he echoes, hunching over his cup enough that the steam adds a layer of fog to his glasses.

Danny sits bolt upright, whipping wide eyes away from his friends to join them in staring at Frostbite.

“Total collapse would take millenia more to truly begin,” he placates before taking a more grave expression. “This does not mean that there will not be issues before that point, however; the symptoms of the High King’s absence have begun to show this past millennium. But rest assured, there is time enough to heal the wounds that have been wrought. The only permanent damage would be the collapse itself, and that, as I said, is millenia away.”

“Is… is that why you never mentioned it to me before?” Danny asks, dropping back to the ground in relief. “Because it’s not urgent and you figured I’d just…get to it eventually? Actually, why did you think I knew if you knew that the crown was still in Pariah’s Keep?”

“It is the duty of the Observants to observe, but also, as you have experienced, to oversee - the timeline, trials, the general functioning of the zone. Without a king to report to, much of their ability to act is crippled, of course - their ability to interfere directly with the timeline has always been severely restricted, their options for sentencing are severely reduced, and there are some things the Realms require that only the High King can provide - but one duty remains unaffected: overseeing the ascension of new kings. 

Coronations have taken many forms in the past, from a quick swap in the battlefield to a formal ceremony to a celebration that lasted a decade. Given the dark era we are, at last, able to put behind us and the non-urgent nature of even the most severe problems that the Realms are currently affected by, I had assumed that the large delay was in preparation for that last form - the lead-up to a grand celebration.”

“Except instead it’s just them being petty,” Sam notes, sitting back up from her own relieved slouch. 

Danny groans, leaving his tea to float and covering his face with his hands.

“Why couldn’t it have just been as easy as shoving Vlad in a box,” he whines.

“I mean, we still can?” Tucker offers, prompting Sam to smack him over the head before pausing consideringly.

“OW!”

“He might be right, actually,” she says, ignoring his exclamation. “Given Vortex’s trial and sentencing, there’s clearly some kind of legal system in the Zone that isn’t just Walker on a power trip. No doubt he’s broken some kind of Actual Realms Law - I’d be surprised if breaking Pariah out like he did wasn’t some form of highly illegal - so you could probably send him to actual Ghost Jail. It’s certainly where he belongs, given all the….”

She makes a vague gesture with her hand in lieu of words.

“That doesn’t resolve the problem of I Don’t Wanna Be A King!” Danny exclaims, sitting back and throwing his hands in the air.

Then he turns to Frostbite, eyes pleading. 

“Can’t you be king?” he asks. 

Frostbite opens his mouth to reply, but Danny steamrolls over him.

“It makes sense! You already know how to lead people! And your people love you! You already know about all the king stuff too! You’ve beaten me in spars before! We’d just have to go to the keep, I put on the crown, you beat me, and problem solved!”

Frostbite’s smile is a mix of amused and pitying.

“I have only ever beaten you in training spars, Great One, and you and I both know that is largely because they were focused on improving your skill with ice and ice alone. Even if I could defeat you in a true all-out fight as you are, I believe you underestimate the boost granted by the crown of fire.”

“I can just put it on then take it off again before we fight! And we can stick to ice!”

“I’m afraid it is not so simple,” he shakes his head. “If you do not give it your all, the crown - the Realms - will not recognize the transition. The only way to “throw the match” successfully would require your opponent to fully End you: to crush your core and snuff your spirit from the very fabric of existence. I am unwilling to do such a thing, and I sincerely hope you would not ask it of me - or, indeed, of anyone.”

Danny paled enough that he nearly matched his human form in skin tone.

“Right. Let’s… let’s not do that, actually.”

“On the bright side, you can probably weasel ruling tips out of Aquaman in exchange for not declaring war on the Living Realm!” Tucker chirps, aiming to cheer him up.

“I’m not going to threaten the Justice League!” he yelps, scandalized.

“But you probably won’t have to threaten them,” Sam chimes in. “They’re already trying to summon you, you already know their goal is to avoid a war. As long as you don’t ask for anything unreasonable, they should be inclined to give you what you want in exchange for peace.”

“Once you offer peace, they will be invested in your successful rule of their own volition as a means of perpetuating said peace,” Frostbite corrects. “If you would like to set preconditions to an accord you should make them things that will not readily be given as a result of said accord. But before we discuss further, perhaps you can fill me in on why war was a concern in the first place? I believe you mentioned something about papers?”

[merakiui]

thinking summer thoughts and the octotrio preferences with bikinis/swimwear,, i feel jade is more of the type of guy to enjoy a more teasingly covered up look,, for example a long skirt that has a slit on each side that is so flowy when wind hits it you need to readjust or else it might reveal something,, or perhaps a backless one-piece that reveals the curvature of your spine,, something just enough to gif him over for later, he doesn’t want the full meal yet

for floyd, i’m thinking jade calls his preference ‘teasingly slutty’ and floyd just throws out the teasing part altogether,, skimpy bikini enjoyer!!! dude wants you wearing the thinnest pieces like IAMGIA level bikini sets,, this is so self indulgent but i love buying from that clothing line, like the tops that are the tiniest triangles and thong bottoms, maybe 🤔 skimpy bottoms with frills he would enjoy

i didn’t have a big epiphany for azul but i was thinking azul might like those waist beads that are silver or blue just for the pearl motif or eye color symbolism,, imagine you going out shopping and holding each waist-bead chain up to his eyes, making sure to get the right color

anyways these are my silly thoughts!!!! 💕💕 kiss

!!!!!!! these are all such delicious thoughts omg... feasting on all of them like it's one big buffet. I so agree,, it's just like Jade to be patient enough for the entire meal. I also think he enjoys using his imagination to fill in the blanks, so he likes things that will feed his thoughts. A peek of your thigh or a sliver of shoulder and collarbone just barely hidden by your outfit/swimwear!!!! I also think he would enjoy elaborate lingerie because he appreciates the imagery and also the delicate nature in which he must slowly peel it from your person, lest he be too rough and tear gentle fabrics in his haste. I think he's a big fan of sundresses, but then maybe that's just because he gets to fantasize about all that's beneath the dress, with such easy access should he wish to sample you.

But I digress!!! Floyd absolutely loves all things skimpy and slutty. The IAMGIA bikini sets........ the way he'd adore you in frills,,, omg YES!!!!!! If he's really feeling it, maybe he can be patient enough to appreciate those long slit skirts and whatnot, but no one in Octavinelle holds a candle to Jade's level of patience. ^^;;; Floyd just likes showing skin and thinks human bodies are such a wonderful, beautiful thing. Why hide that with layers of clothes? Besides, the weather is so hot and humid. Less layers means more relaxation (and less things he has to pry off, but then he's the type of impatient to just slide your swim bottoms to the side and go from there,,,,) but also....... I think he has a soft spot for the types of swimsuits and summer clothes that make you look so cute and soft and !!!!! His cuteness aggression is off the charts as soon as he sees you hehe.

And Azul....... I think anything that has any sort of mer motif (pearls/waist beads as you noted, etc) is going to have him salivating because he likes the symbolism (also,, pretty, shiny things on his pretty darling = very yum in his tako brain hehe). The fact that you could enjoy his culture in the same way he enjoys yours means a lot to him. That, and for someone who is so self-conscious of his true form it warms his heart that you find octo-mers so fascinating and pretty. 🥺 can he marry you on the spot right now!!!!! I think Azul has a thing for sarong skirts. Also a fan of sundresses; he just doesn't realize it at first.

Matching pieces with his eyes... that's really cute AAAAAAA. Picking out jewelry and other accessories based on his eyes while he does the same, and he's just melting because you're such a sweetheart,, oh, he's so in love,,, I think Azul is the best person to go shopping with because he enjoys shopping (especially when he has a list of things he needs) and is good at helping you choose things if you're debating different aesthetics and prices and whatnot. Very logical. Jade is the type who will go and has fun seeing you shop, but he doesn't buy anything (he insists on holding your bags and everything else so that you can have free hands,,, he's so boyfriend). As for Floyd, I suppose it's entirely mood dependent. He does make for a fun shopping friend, but then he's also a big spender who likes luxury brands,, also, I feel like if you go shopping with Floyd there's a high chance he'll buy things that remind him of you and gift you them after the fact. He shops with Shrimpy in his mind all the time. <3

AAAAA OTL I rambled so much,,, but your thoughts are now wedged in my mind. It's just so perfect. Octavinelle + summer fashion/swimsuits is so *chef's kiss*!!!!!

[hwnglx]

How will Jake from enhypen pursue and act around someone his interested in

how would jake act around his crush?

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

4oprx, 8ow, paop, 3osw, paoc, ma, mo, lo&8osw, empr&dea

jake seems like a guy who doesn't fall in love much, but instead develops crushes rather quickly. i can feel his aries moon very vividly here, his emotions burn extremely hot at once, but the fire dies down just as fast. i can see him walking around and spotting three different girls he finds attractive in an instant, he's drawn to people pretty easily. + jake will be quick in approaching his crush, and very direct in the expression of his liking towards them. i pretty much get the four of pentacles in most romantic readings for him, however here it is reversed. i can see this desire of "possession" being more of an internalized and surpressed emotion, meaning he'll feel a sense of attachment to his crush, on a more subconscious level. it won't act out as obviously as it does when he's in a relationship. however, he will definitely be very engrossed in the person he's interested in. i keep hearing "가져야 해" which translates to "i have to get her". jake will not want to lose out on the opportunity to "obtain" his crush, so best believe he'll make sure to express his interest immediately. he will hate the thought of anyone else approaching them before him, and will definitely get jealous if he sees them with any other guy.

(side note, i keep feeling hot while being in this energy.. jake's emotions definitely 🔥 very powerfully, like when he feels he really feels)

sooo much of his ego will be attached to his crushes reaction though. although he'll be good at disguising it, i'm getting a lot of nervous energy internally, in a "oh sht, what do they think? do they like me?" type of way. jake does fear rejection, since he feels that it just makes him look stupid and embarrasses him. it hurts his pride immensely. he's aware that he can be very charming, and kinda views his natural ability to flirt as one of his strong suits. that's why, whether or not his crush gives in to him, will literally make or break him in that moment.

jake is an intuitive guy who's excellent at reading people and figuring out what they're thinking. so he'll be extremely observant of his crushes reaction once he approaches them. he will make sure to carefully study their facial expressions, gaze into their eyes deeply. one thing about this man, is that he knows how to make eye contact. there is eye contact, and then there is scorpio eye contact. it's intense, to say the least. i can see him loving to intimidate his crush with the way he just stares at them while they talk. he enjoys seeing their reaction and having a powerful effect on the person he likes.

he will use very straightforward ways to express his interest verbally. the moment jake sees someone he finds attractive, they are all he sees. the man gets obsessed. he does not care how dramatic it is, yeah he might've known his crush for a few minutes, but they're literally the love of his life. (i can hear jay telling jake "two days ago you called that other girl the love of your life too bro how many lives are you living" lol)

i can see jake telling his crush things like "no lie, i would've regretted it my entire life if i didn't go up to you" and laughing. he'll be amazing at making them think they're his one and only.

if jakes likes you, he'll be crazy good at luring you, and creating a perfect love scenario for you two, within a few minutes. even if you're in a crowded place full with people. in that moment, it'll feel like it's just you two. the energy will be very magnetic and i can feel the air getting kinda heated. you'll just be hypnotized by the way he makes your skin buzz. with his gaze, with his voice, with his words. even if he doesn't touch you or gets too close to you, it'll feel very intimate. he's excellent at smooth talking, and drawing you in so much that you can't seem to be able to take your eyes off him.

- as obsessed he'll be with his crush within that specific moment, it's surprisingly easy for him to move on. he might want to exchange numbers, maybe text you a few times, only to leave you on read in the end. i do see why people could call him a player, because he for sure plays with people's hearts, and can have selfish tendencies in this regard.

as i've stated in other readings, he's either all in or all out. if you only remain as a crush, it's unlikely he will entertain you for much long. if jake actually starts developing interest in knowing you as a person and ends up falling in love with who you are, rather than finding a superficial liking in you, that's when he will prioritize you. i've seen several times in the past, that he's more than capable of putting his urges and desires aside if he finds someone he genuinely loves.

[potatobugxo]

Hey I saw your have requests open and I was wondering if you were willing to write a very fem presenting f!reader who is ace but doesn't really care how she is perceived based on her taste in clothes or the infamous being walked into while changing x Alastor and Lucifer (separate, together or just one of the two. However you like it).

How would they react? I think Al would be ever the gentleman and maybe appreciate that he can just be and live with the body he was given and she would look in his eyes even if he'd be bathing or something (ngl I think bathing together is such a cute thing and I hate that lewd minds ruin the innosence in it and the level of trust and comfort with one's self and another one can gain from it)

Like he is not just some hot piece of ass but a person in her mind no matter how he is presenting himself.

As for Lucifer I think he'd be curious about how she sees those situations as sensual and innocent where everyone else would just jump to sex and maybe find comfort in her view of him.

Or just a very oblivious sweet f!reader with them.

Idk if I make much sense and if you don't want to write it that's perfectly fine. I hope you have a lovely day!

Thank you so much!!!!

i really like the contrast between these two for this idea!! i wasnt sure if you meant them walking in on the reader changing or the reader walking in on them changing (so i went with both sjsjfs) and thank u bby i hope you have a lovely day as well <33 warnings: mentioned nudity (not graphically described) lucifer's part is more suggestive silly

walking in on alastor/lucifer changing & vice versa (seperate)

you walking in on him changing:

"o-oh! uh! sorry, sweetheart! i didn't, uh, see you there!"

very flustered right off the bat. man was in the middle of putting his pants on when you walked in okay he was not emotionally prepared

you just blink at him widely and then smile, saying, "dinner's ready whenever you're hungry!" before abruptly leaving

f l a b b e r g h a s t e d

lucifer knows your ace but he thought you'd have more of a reaction to seeing him with his lil white booty hanging out

he joins you for dinner later and you make conversation about your day as if you didn't just witness his bare cheeks walking in on you changing:

"OH GOOD GOLLY UH, SORRY ABOUT THAT!"

his wheeze laugh really comes through with this one

"oh, it's okay, luci, i was just getting ready for bed."

he doesn't know what to do, should he cover his eyes and turn his back to be polite?? should he leave?? is he allowed to stare??

you just continue to take your clothes off and put your pajamas on while he's gawking like an idiot trying to think of what he should do

by the time he snaps out of it you're shimmying under the covers and patting the pillow beside you for him to join

it's obviously okay for him to change in front of you now so he does and rolls under the covers beside you

poor guy has a tough time understanding how you can be so innocent, a sweet lil smile on your face as you snuggle up to him with nothing but a shirt on and no ulterior motive

you walking in on him changing:

he'd be in the middle of removing his dress shirt when you stride into his room

"alastor are you- oh are you getting ready for bed?"

"why, you're right on time my dear! i was just about to take a bath. care to join me?"

you both are asexual you got no problems here 💀

bathtime is something alastor genuinely enjoys with you because he knows you won't feel uncomfortable or make things weird

he loves when you wash his hair for him and he enjoys giving you shoulder rubs

he's content that neither of you are ashamed of your bodies nor ashamed of showing them as there is no sexual motives to any of it

walking in on you changing:

"oh, my apologies my dear!"

he would be strolling into your room while you're slipping into your regular attire for the day

very gentlemanly, and even though he knows you're okay with showing your body around him he's still polite about it and turns on his heel to avert his gaze

"it's okay alastor, it's no problem!"

sometimes if you'll allow him to, he'll assist you as you change, for example pulling your overshirt or coat over your shoulders, or assisting with pulling your boots on

its a sweet way for him to express his affection for you! he needs to treat his lady right after all!

[wing-ed-thing]

Three-Man Squad Relationship Headcanons with Itachi and Kisame

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Language, Canon-Typical Violence

𓆃 Oh, you thought you were safe because you got placed with these two? 

𓆃 You thought they were level headed? You thought that because Itachi seemed the quiet and respectable type that you were placed in a normal team? Yeah, that’s called a false sense of security.

𓆃 Kisame is the most personable by default since he’ll talk more and it’s not horribly difficult to build a working friendship based on mutual respect and sparring to pass the time.

𓆃 With lots of time and how boring travel is, Kisame is all too happy to suggest that you test your skills against each other. The more evenly matched, the better. Whether it’s hand to hand or weapon to weapon, Kisame insists on making it a game to pass the time.

𓆃 Each time, he’ll push it a bit further. Maybe he’ll continue to swing when you’ve tapped out. He couldn’t “hear you.” Perhaps he’ll initiate a surprise attack to start your sparring session, shouting out only a word of warning before swinging Samehada at your head.

𓆃 Each swing is a death blow. Kisame does not hold back during sparring. He does not consider sparring practice in the sense that he is conscious of your safety. 

𓆃 Every time he initiates fighting with you, the closer he toes the line to actually killing you. He plays rough and if it’s allowed to go on without you noticing, it will never stop.

𓆃 Luckily, he seems to get bored quickly. Pulling out too many new or otherwise flashy moves is sure to hold his interest and elongate the match. 

𓆃 Your abilities will garner great respect from Kisame and he’s not afraid to praise you often. This praise often comes with sharp slaps to the back, head, and behind as he seems to genuinely enjoy having a buddy who he perceives to be on the same wavelength as him.

𓆃 High respect, high loyalty, strong friendship, and killing you is a part of the circle of life. If you don’t want to die, then don’t!

𓆃 Itachi is quieter but arguably worse. He’ll hardly engage you, which often includes flat out ignoring many of the things you say. 

𓆃 He’ll give you the cold shoulder to the point where it’s almost easier to talk at him. Sometimes when Itachi’s alone, you’ll join him where he is to talk. And he won’t stop you. He’ll never say you’re disturbing him, and just let you talk at him about whatever you want.

𓆃 And then when he does say something to you, he’ll sprinkle in little personal details you completely forgot you told him.

𓆃 “Don’t you have a great aunt from this village?” “I thought you didn’t like that kind of grain.” “This is why you have acute shoulder pain and soreness in your knee—”

𓆃 You used to complain about the things in your life that were bothering you until you realized that Itachi didn’t pull his punches. Everything is on the table from your relationship history, to psychoanalysis, to dissections of your every decision. It doesn’t matter what it is because Itachi has honed into it and will place you on the hot seat with just a few brutal words.

𓆃 And then sometimes, you won’t remember interactions with Itachi at all. Sometimes, you are somewhere else completely and you snap back to reality just in time to see Itachi’s sharingan extinguish.

𓆃 How long were you gone? Where did you go? What caused it? Who knows. You’ll never know if Itachi got annoyed or if you fought or even if he was just messing around with you. Itachi is not above flexing that he is ultimately in control of the team.

𓆃 He’ll just show you things under his superior genjutsu. That’s his fun. He likes to sit across from you showing you things and you know what? You’re none the wiser

𓆃 You’ll bring something up that “happened” on your travels to Kisame and he’ll have no idea what you’re talking about.

𓆃 Welcome to Team Mind-Fuck

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: Sleepover Horrors

~ written for the @vesuviaweekly prompt "all's fair in love and war"! ~

"No no no no no no no no -"

Portia's giggled refusals fly past my ear as she scurries away, slippered feet sliding on the polished, smooth floors. Nadia stands frozen in place on the carpet of my guestroom, staring at me wide-eyed in amused horror. Asra's hiding behind Muriel in the corner, peeking around his elbow with morbid fascination. Muriel looks like he's regretting accepting the sleepover party invitation more and more. Lucio's following Portia's example and beating a hasty retreat.

Julian, the irrepressible masochist, is inching closer to me with a woeful mutter about subjecting himself to torment "so everyone else can escape."

I glance down at the dish in my hands.

"Really? You're that scared of it? It's not that bad."

"Not that bad?!" Lucio shrieks from the doorway, "That looks like it could KILL me!"

"Ooh, maybe it's worth looking at after all ~" Asra slides back out from their hiding spot and approaches me with a sly glint. Nadia stops him with an outstretched arm.

"I strongly recommend we allow Drue to tell us what the item is before we touch it."

"Quite right, quite right - er -" Julian straightens and coughs. "What is it?"

I hoist it up above my head to his eye level, causing him to step back out of my space. "This? This was my midnight snack as a teen."

"Your midnight snack?" Portia tiptoes back into the room, eyes round with intrigue. Nadia stares at me aghast.

"You ... ate this?"

Asra gets close enough to waft their hand over the bowl, and immediately swallows a gag. "Drue, what's in this?"

"Leftovers."

Julian peeks over my shoulder from where he's moved to shield himself behind me. "Why is it lumpy?"

"It's rice ... based. It started as rice. Old rice. Not very recognizable rice." I poke at it with my spoon and listen to the squelch, beginning to understand a little more why my six friends are so horrified. Muriel grumbles under his breath from his corner.

"That doesn't look like rice."

Portia wriggles her fingers in gleeful mischief. "You're right! Maybe it's maggots!"

Lucio goes even paler than normal and makes his way back into the room, clearly against his better judgement. An odd circle of spectators has formed around me at this point. Nadia has one hand firmly tucked over her nose, mouth, and chin in a not-so-subtle attempt to protect her senses.

"I'm afraid I'm having some difficulty understanding this. You're an excellent cook, and yet ..."

Lucio shudders and finishes her sentence with a whimper. "Why."

Asra's eyes sparkle at that reaction. "What else is in it, Drue?"

"Uhhmm ... I mashed in a microwaved hot dog, added some mayonnaise to keep it creamy, found some wilted broccoli in the back of my freezer and put that in ... I was craving something with a little kick so I used the rest of the buffalo sauce someone gave me forever ago."

Julian looks at me in concern. "How long ago is forever?"

I shrug. "A couple years? It was already expired, but it didn't smell awful. Oh! And I added some plain yogurt and honey, for nostalgia's sake."

"Nostalgia?"

"Yeah! All free food is delicious when you're a boarding school student, you know? Whenever I was home on break, and nobody was awake to tell me what people still wanted, I'd clear out whatever was dying in the back of the fridge and eat that."

There's a moment of silence, presumably my friends mourning for teenaged-me's digestive system. Muriel eyes me with what seems to be a new level of respect, which I personally find slightly concerning in this situation.

"Was it ... good?"

"Pretty good," I nod, "almost everything edible was good to a hungry teenager."

Portia glances between me and the bowl again. "Is it good ... now?"

I pop a spoonful in my mouth. It's mushy, sour, spicy, sweet, creamy, and savory all at once. "I've eaten worse."

Asra's curiosity finally gets the better of him and he reaches for my spoon. "May I try some?"

Lucio perks up, mutters something about an "indirect kiss", and immediately flings out his arm. "No! I'm taking the first bite!"

Asra whirls on him in annoyance. "What? Why?"

Lucio puffs out his chest and preens. "It's a test, isn't? Nobody loves Drue more than me! I'll eat his poison!"

The ex-Count's loud declaration gets met with several disbelieving stares. Portia takes advantage of the awkward silence to swipe the lukewarm bowl from my hands.

"Ooh, I know who should do the test of courage!" She bounces under my elbow, scoops up a heaping bite of sludge, and shoves it into her older brother's mouth in one smooth motion. Julian's down in seconds. All I hear behind me is miserable gagging, coughing, and belching.

"Pasha, whyyy -"

"Oh c'mon, there's no way it's that bad!"

"You have some then, I dare you! Try it for yourself if you have the courage!"

"Fine, I will!"

I don't want to turn around. Watching Nadia's, Lucio's, Asra's, and Muriel's faces as they observe the chaos behind me is entertaining enough. There's a moment of silence, and then a loud thunk as the bowl drops to the carpet and Portia starts babbling through her tears.

"Oh - oh, hells, it's awful - Drue! Why?!"

Asra scoops the bowl up off the floor and pops a bit into their mouth without hesitating. For a moment he looks almost ... green. They spit it back into their hand and giggle in disbelief as a rush of magic sends it disappearing into thin air. "What - how - what -"

Muriel already has his answer before Asra has the chance to pose it to him. "I'm not eating it."

Nadia mirrors his stance, silently shaking her head with a firm look of disdain. That leaves only one victim ...

"Lucio ~"

"Wha- me? Why me?"

Now this is a slumber party, is all I can think as Asra slowly advances to make good on a decades-old grudge. Lucio nervously backs into a corner, sweat trickling down his face.

"N-Now hang on -"

"What's the matter? I thought you loved Drue more than any of us - isn't that right, Nadi?"

"Wha - Noddy, no!"

The shout of betrayal makes Muriel smirk as Nadia nods sagely along with Asra's argument. "You did profess as such, Lucio."

I watch his silver eyes grow wider in fear, along with the pure mischievous glee written in every line of the magician's posture as Lucio gets effectively trapped.

"It's not fair!" He wails.

"All's fair in love and war, Lucio. Isn't that right, Drue?"

"No! Don't agree with hi- MMPHPHPH"

Another one falls to the carpet, writhing in brief agony. Julian, fully recovered, watches in grim satisfaction beside me. Portia nudges me in the side. "So. What game are we playing next?"

[g0ldenbritney]

Ledger!Joker SFW ABCS!

WOO!! first post after introoo! (yes, i know i skipped a lot of letters, but a lot of them wouldn't make any sense to his character or I already talked about them in a previous letter)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) I feel like most would say he wouldn't be very affectionate, and for the most part I agree. I feel like the levels of affection he would give you would be based on how long the two of you are dating for. I see him more as a gift giving type of guy then a physical affection guy. Like coming home to you and giving you random (or very expensive items that of course he stole) items and trinkets.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) I feel like a friendship with him would start randomly, one of those friendships that when someone asks "so, when did you two meet?" you just stare blankly trying to remember how. The most logical way you two probably would become friends is through work, or he just saw you on the street and just decided it was your (un)lucky day and forced you to be his friend

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Whenever I think about him cuddling I always just think its a little off for him. I feel like he would try to push you off or get all "annoyed" but secretly wants you to cuddle him. He just wants to put up a fight for no reason. For example, the two of you watch a movie and you are literally fighting to cuddle this guy and he just keeps pushing you off, his most frequent excuse would be

"you're to warm.." or "Its to hot out for that."

eventually he lets you, because you knew after awhile he would stop putting up a fake fight

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) This one is confusing me a little not gonna lie. But no, I don't think he would ever want a domestic type thing. not saying he would "cheat" or whatever but I cant see him wanting to settle down, especially because of how much he loves to fight with batman. Would be pretty hard to do that if he was married with kids, at least to him it would be. With the whole cooking and cleaning thing, he sucks at both. Absolutely cannot cook, I swear that man would burn water, and the whole cleaning thing? he's 100% one of those people who don't make their bed EVER because

"I'm just gonna mess it up again"

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) NOT GENTLE AT ALL. This man would be an absolute tease. I feel like he would even "make fun" of you, but he wouldn't see it that way he would see it more as poking fun. He would only be KIND OF gentle if you're crying.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Its the same thing with the cuddling thing, He would pretend to hate it so much but would secretly love it

"Fine, I guess we can hug a little."

His hugs depend on your mood 100%!! If your feeling sad I think he would be just a bit more gentle with the hugs if you asked for one. He probably wouldn't give you one without you asking. But if you're doing fine I feel like his hugs would get pretty aggressive.. like a classic tight bear hug.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) This one has me a little stuck to, im in-between him saying it VERY fast and him not saying for a long time. I feel like he would maybe wait for you to say it first. Its like the whole hug situation, if you do it first he will follow.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Oh, this guy is JEALOUSSS!! IF he sees someone look at you just a little weird he will freak the fuck out. Expect to see that person on the news tomorrow. But i do feel if you told him to stop being so jealous or that his jealousness made you feel a little iffy he would try to tone it down jus for you. He would definitely still feel all those possessive emotions though.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) This guys a sucker for kisses, He loves kissing your forehead specifically. He will kiss anywhere and everywhere, he does not care. His kisses are for sure on the more passionate side (pulling hair into a kiss...WHO SAID THAT?!??!) He loves when you kiss him anywhere...his cheek is nice though.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Be ready to cook for this guy, and if you cant cook? I guess you have to figure something else out because 1. He cant cook, and 2. he refuses to do anything in the morning. He doesn't get much sleep, he usually comes home late at night or not even at night at all so once he wakes up from his sleep he might be a little grumpy, AND IF SOMETHING WAKES HIM UP THATS NOT NATURAL...oh he will be mas and pissy for the rest of the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) I don't have a lot of write for this one, as I said he's not really home at night, so when he is its special and you better make the most of it!

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) Depends on the occasion, if its anniversary or a birthday he will go above and beyond for you. I mean this man could basically get you pretty much anything you wanted. But if its just some random date sure he would still try really hard to do anything you wanted but wouldn't go that hard into it if it wasn't a special event.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Defiantly hygiene, he just doesn't care. He would probably try a little harder with brushing teeth and washing hair when you start dating him just because you would force him to.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) all I can say is DOES. NOT. CAREE!!

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) He feels incomplete always, maybe he would feel a little better and this probably isn't what anyone wants to hear but even after dating you he would probably have those same feelings about himself

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) I HAVE PLENTY.

-Weirdly loves the sun and sunny days??

-Had A BUNCH of teeth problems growing up and kept every single type of braces he had

-He loves capri suns (dont ask)

-He hates any runny foods (eggs.)

Maybe i will make a whole other post about headcanons for him

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) I was gonna remove this one, but I honestly just think I should say that I don't really think he would have a "turn off" from a person. Hes the last person to judge anything from anyone.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) For sure talks in his sleep, I'm talking mumbling, rolling around, kicking all of it. Maybe he'll even sit up, say some creepy shit, then go back to bed and leave you confused and a little spooked. Then when you ask him about it he just says he doesn't remember doing that.

[autisticlancemcclain]

A shrill beep breaks his focus, and for it he nearly gets sliced in the eye.

He just barely manages to dodge the Gladiator’s blade, ducking under its sword and rolling towards his jacket and boots, crumpled on the floor. He digs out his comm, as quickly as he can with the Gladiator hot on his tail, and glances at the new message. It’s from Lance.

sharpshooter:

keith where tf are u

sharpshooter:

please know if u miss yet another meeting i am going to kick ur ass

sharpshooter:

better yet i’m gonna have allura kick ur ass bc she actually can

sharpshooter:

know that it will be painful

Keith rolls his eyes, dropping his comm and feigning left just as the Gladiator stabs right through where his head was milliseconds prior. No longer worried that he’s missing something important, he throws himself back into the fight, matching his breathing to the clash of his sword against the Gladiator’s, the steady taps of their feet on the floor as they move, the rapid beat of his own heart. It’s easy to sink into the movement, the adrenaline; to stop thinking.

Thinking is dangerous. Thinking is painful. Thinking reminds him only of how much he’s lost, how much he’s falling short. None of that is helpful. The weight of his sword in his hand, the smell of sweat and metal, the harsh white lights of the training room — all that is helpful. All that is real.

“Kogane, you are the most irritating person in space. And that’s saying a lot, because I’m here, and I specialize in being irritating.”

The Gladiator freezes mid strike, then fades into pixels. The harsh lights dim.

Keith turns around with a scowl. Lance matches it, standing right beside the training room kill switch, arm crossed and jaw set defiantly.

“I’m trying to train, Lance.”

“No need. You’ve reached peak levels of infuriating. No more training necessary.”

Keith rolls his eyes so hard it hurts, jogging over to his water bottle and chugging half of it before dropping to the floor and doing push-ups. Whatever. Lance may have shut down the Gladiator, but Keith can train in other ways. He’ll just turn it back on when Lance leaves.

“Oh, you fucking —”

Before he can fully register what’s happening, a sharp wooshing noise gets louder, and he rolls out of the way seconds before a sword flies by his head and imbeds itself in the wall.

A very, very familiar sword, white with red accents.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Keith shouts, but Lance is already sprinting to grab his bayard, face impassive.

Keith scrambles to his feet, lunging for his own blade, barely managing to activate it and hold it in front of him to block Lance’s oncoming strike. The force of the blow is so powerful it sends a painful ripple down his arms.

Lance is just barely smirking.

“If it’s a fucking fight you want than you’ll get it,” Keith growls, spinning out of the way and putting some distance between them, adjusting his stance and tensing his shoulders.

“I don’t want a fight, douchebag. But obviously talking like grownups is too hard for your tiny little brain, so I’m going to explain this in a way you can understand.”

“You’re really shitty at one-liners,” Keith points out, aiming a thrust at Lance’s left hip, which he always leaves open.

To Keith’s delight, Lance’s smirk drops. “That’s because one-liners are stupid!” he says defensively, barely managing to swerve to the side in time to avoid serious damage. He retaliates by swinging his longsword like it’s a fucking bat, and Keith’s head is a baseball, because Lance is allergic to the real swordfighting techniques Keith has attempted to teach him. And also peanuts, but that’s not helpful right this second. “I only have one line to destroy you emotionally! Truly devastating burns are multi-layered, which is why you can never come up with them, you one-dimensional oreo thinnie!”

Keith grunts, sidestepping Lance’s attempt to stab his foot and clashing his sword at the base of Lance’s, right near the hilt, trying to disarm him. It works, but only because Lance anticipated the move, and as his sword is bent from his hand he does some sort of twisting manoeuvre with his wrist and manages to catch it, somehow. It’s infuriating.

“I stopped listening twelve percent into your sentence.”

“Well, you do that a lot, so colour me unsurprised.”

The unfiltered bitterness in Lance’s voice throws him for a loop, distracts him. He blinks, thrown-off, head out of the game.

“What?”

His distractedness costs him. Faster than he can fully track, Lance hooks his foot around Keith’s ankle, sweeping his legs out from under him, and then shoves him to the floor, pinning his wrists above his head, knee to Keith’s navel, sword to his throat. Keith tries to struggle, to either buck Lance off or angle his own sword, still clenched in his hand, back up to Lance, but he’s exhausted — he’s been training since he woke up this morning. Lance has him at a disadvantage.

“You are being a massive douchebag dumbass loser,” Lance says, panting. “I am fighting the urge to kill you for real.”

“Maybe don’t,” Keith suggests, suddenly very aware of the position they’re in and how easily Lance could drive his sword through Keith’s skull. He knows Lance won’t, or else he’d be struggling way more, but the way Lance is eyeing his own sword is certainly not helping.

Lance sighs. “We need to take a break, Keith.”

Keith frowns. “What?”

Lance sighs again, shifting off of Keith and standing, offering his hand. Keith takes it, pulling himself up, and then follows Lance over to the wall, sitting down next to him.

“What?” he repeats, when Lance doesn’t say anything for several minutes.

Lance shifts to face him, and for the first time Keith really notices the bags under his eyes, the sag of his shoulders. “We need to take a break,” he repeats. “All of us. The team. We need to do something that isn’t this —” he spreads his arm, gesturing to their swords and then between them — “all the time. We need a vacation.”

“No.” Keith barely lets him finish. He gets back to his feet, picking up his sword and heading back towards the system modulator, flipping through the different training modules. Lance follows him immediately.

“Keith —”

“No, Lance,” Keith repeats, fists clenching the edge of the computer. “This is a fucking war. There are no vacations. End of discussion.”

Lance mutters something in Spanish, too fast for Keith to pick up, but he clearly hears a few repeated instances of “cabrón”, and “comemierda”, and “tonto terco idiota que va a hacer que nos maten a todos”, none of which he can translate but he’s pretty sure he gets the general message.

“Keith.” Lance wraps an arm around Keith’s wrist, tugging him away from the training computer. “I cannot possibly understand the pain you are going through. Nothing I have ever gone through can possibly be the same as how it feels to lose a brother. For the second time, for fuck’s sake. I know that.”

Keith clenches his jaw, swallowing the lump in his throat at the mere mention of Shiro. He itches to yank his hand away, boot up the Gladiator again, and train and train and train until he can’t hear his thoughts anymore.

But he doesn’t.

“But you’re not alone in this, man,” Lance continues. Keith turns to glare at him — what a fucking crock of cliched bullshit — but Lance holds his gaze, steady and firm. “Pidge knows exactly what you’re going through. Allura, too. Hell, even Coran. That’s three separate people who understand every single thing you’re going through right now. Intimately.”

That brings Keith up short. “It’s not the same,” Keith insists anyway. “Plus it — it doesn’t matter. What good is talking out our feelings going to do? That’s not going to fuckin’ find him. I’m only going to find him if I keep working.”

“Really interesting that you say that,” Lance says flatly. “I had this exact conversation with Pidge last night, as I was attempting to force her to get some sleep.”

Keith feels something like guilt build up deep in his stomach.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And it’s one thing for me to mother hen the fifteen year old, but it’s a whole other, weirdly Freudian thing for me to mother hen you, the grownup leader who is supposed to be guiding the team and not a giant headass who is doing intensely stupid shit like ignoring team meetings and training to the point where he passes out.”

“In my defense, the daily team meetings are dumb,” Keith mutters, because apparently he wants Lance to kick him out the airlock.

Luckily, Lance only smiles wryly. “You’re lucky I’m endlessly benevolent and I’m going to let that slide. Come sit down, asshole. You missed today’s meeting because you were busy being emo, but we’ll have a small meeting now. A co-leaders meeting.”

Keith relents, sitting next to Lance on the floor, back to the wall as Lance sits criss-cross-applesauce in front of him.

“Okay. Vacation. Necessary.”

“Counterpoint. We all manage our schedules better and have some free time, and don’t waste our time spending who knows how long doing nothing.”

“Counter counter point. We do both of those things or I mutiny.”

Lance does not appear to be joking even a little. When it’s clear that Keith isn’t going to speak any further, he sighs.

“Look,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I know that the idea of not doing something for a day is kind of stressful. But…saving the world is a massive bummer, dude. Being on this lonely ass castle in the middle of empty space is a bummer. Chasing a walking purple L’Oreal commercial who is also a homicidal maniac is a bummer. Eating in silence during team dinners is a bummer. Trying to force Pidge and Hunk to step away from their tech for a few hours to sleep and eat and shower is a bummer. Dragging Allura away from the briefing room is a bummer. Making sure you don’t work yourself to death is a bummer. Being the red paladin, if I’m being a thousand percent honest, right now, is a bummer. I’m bummed, dude.”

Despite himself, Keith smiles slightly. Lance grins back, tired and a tad condescending but also fond.

“I got it, Lance.”

“Excellent. I even dumbed it down so it would not escape you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You know what would make me less of an asshole?”

“A vacation?” Keith guesses.

“Ding ding ding! Vacation is the answer.” Lance reaches forward, grabbing Keith’s water bottle straight from his hands and taking a swig. “And since you decided to ditch the daily briefing, you get to make it up to me today by convincing the rest of the team to agree and also agreeing to whatever vacation spot I choose.”

“I will agree to one of those things.”

Lance laughs, bright and happy, and it sends such a startling zap of energy and relief through Keith’s entire body that he’s kicking himself for making it so rare, as of late.

“Oh, Mullet, you are so naive.”

Lance gets to his feet, offering his hand to Keith again. This time, when Keith takes it, he holds on for a moment — he smiles at Lance, tired but genuine. Lance smiles back, knocking their shoulders together.

It’s nice to be back on the same page.

———

Keith thinks he reserves the right to complain, honestly.

Well, maybe not. He did work everyone pretty hard. And he is glad that Lance finally convinced him (if threatening to mutiny can be called convincing) to go on vacation, even though you couldn’t waterboard that out of him.

“If you complain even one more time I am going to draw a massive dick with the sunscreen where you can’t reach,” Lance says pleasantly, squirting what Keith would call a massive excess of Altean SPF 900 onto his hands (alien suns are a little more deadly. Who knew). He slaps it on Keith’s back, slathering it with absolutely zero care and an abundance of glee.

It doesn’t make Keith smile. It doesn’t.

“I’ll just wear a shirt until the sunburn fades. Complaining is worth it.”

Lance only hums, working in the cream. It starts to feel good, his cold fingers digging into the knots on Keith’s back. It feels so good, in fact, that Keith lets his guard down.

Rookie mistake if he’s ever made one.

One second he’s sat on the warm sand, tension melting from his shoulders, and the next he’s fucking airborne; Lance picking him up by the waist and throwing him over broad swimmers shoulders.

“Lance!” he screeches, pounding on the red paladin’s back, “fucking let me down! Dickhead!”

Lance is cackling loudly, picking up speed and jogging for the — icy cold! Keith knows! — waves. The rest of the team looks in their direction, but Keith loses any hope of their aid when they all burst out laughing.

“All of you are the worst!” Keith cries, but he can’t deny that it’s nice to hear their laughter again.

It’s been a while.

Still, though, Keith is not going down without a fight. As he and his captor get closer and closer to a watery doom (Keith has never been dramatic even a day in his life), Keith really starts to struggle. He throws his whole body weight to one side, making Lance stumble. He aims an elbow to the Cuban’s ear, but before his hit can land, he hears a voice shout: “Oh, no you don’t!”

Three things happen in quick succession.

One. Lance whoops in triumph.

Two. A curtain of white hair flashes towards him, and yet another arm grabs him around the waist.

Three. He drops, and water colder than the fucking glacial arctic seas envelops him entirely.

He comes back up sputtering, glaring a thousand daggers at Allura.

“You’ll pay for that,” he informs her.

“Ha!” She looks down at him smugly, hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised to her hairline. “Good luck with that.”

Keith doesn’t hesitate before tackling her into the waves.

It doesn’t take long after that for things to devolve into chaos. Hunk happily follows Allura and Lance’s examples, scooping up Pidge — to her rage — and Coran — to his delight — under one arm each, tossing them in the water like neither weighs particular more to him than perhaps a bunch of grapes.

(Dear Lord. If Keith were not so gone on Lance’s ass…)

As much as he tries to deny it, Keith has fun. Very quickly Lance organizes a game of chicken, climbing up Keith’s body like a particularly aggravating monkey (something Keith is happy to tell him) and settling on his shoulders, thighs bracketing his head and ankles crossed at his abdomen.

Keith goes so violently red that he’s genuinely kind of shocked that he can turn that colour.

“Squeeze any tighter, Lance, and Keefers over there is going to evaporate the entire ocean,” Pidge says drily.

Keith does not wait for her to get situated on Coran’s shoulders. He charges.

Despite his brain relaying a constant stream of Oh God Lance’s thighs are wrapped around your head holy shit he’s sitting on your shoulders and he’s barely dressed his fucking legs are so long why are they so long does he have to be this attractive is that even possible what the fuck is the deal with that, he manages to put his full attention into going absolutely ham. He charges, dodges, leaps and bounds, intent on being the winning team of this ridiculous but admittedly fun game.

Allura and Hunk dominate. Easily. It’s barely even a competition. They dunk everyone else so many times that they have to plead for mercy.

Still, Keith has a huge smile on his face by the time everyone peels off and cools down.

“There it is,” Lance says, poking him on the cheek.

Keith bats his hands away. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

But Lance is undeterred by his gruffness. He smiles, fondly, rolling his eyes, then bounds away with a random bucket to the shoreline, likely to look for cool seashells.

Keith is so endeared that it’s honestly a little sickening. Never in his life has he been so attached to the whims to another person.

He doesn’t hate it, somehow.

“If you keep building the habit of watching your red paladin so lovingly, you may be accused of favouritism in the near future,” Coran teases, taking a seat next to him on the sand.

Keith flushes. Your red paladin rings in his ears.

“I don’t watch him like that,” he denies loudly.

“You do so,” pipes up the peanut gallery, also known as Pidge Holt, without so much as glancing up from her, Hunk’s, and Allura’s massive sandcastle. Honestly, sandcastle might not be the right word for it. The magnificent undertaking is significantly larger and significantly prettier than his dingy shack from back home.

“You’re fired,” Keith shoots back. Pidge only rolls her eyes, reaching over and smashing one of the sand figures standing on the castle.

“I just killed sand Keith for your insolence. Beg for my forgiveness or I won’t rebuild you.”

The two of them continue to bicker until Allura throws clumps of sand at them to get them to shut up.

“Aw, the sand got stuck in my sunscreen,” Keith pouts. He tries to rub it off, but it only scrapes his skin off with it, so he gives up. “You’re the worst!”

“I’m going to put more sand in your hair,” Allura says mildly. She scoops up a handful. Keith holds a bucket of water up in front of him in defense.

Before an all out war can be restarted, Hunk stills, looking up from his intricate castle-building with a furrowed brow.

“Hey, speaking of sunscreen, where’s Lance? He can usually be relied upon to snootily inform anyone who will listen about UV rays and skin cancer every hour.”

“He went to go find seashells.”

Hunk’s brow furrows. “And he’s not back yet? It’s been a bit. Do you think he got lost?”

“Let’s go look for him,” Keith says, scrambling to his feet immediately. His heartbeat picks up slightly, ‘Lance’ and ‘lost’ ringing through his head like disjointed echoes. He’s already halfway down the sand by the time he registers the voices around him, hears the calling of his name, feels a steady hand on his shoulder.

“He’s not lost,” Coran says kindly. His green eyes are wrought with pain and empathy and understanding alike, reminding Keith of Lance’s earlier words. Reminding him that his family truly does understand his pain, truly does know him, get him. Coran’s hand squeezes once, and Keith takes a deep breath, smiling slightly back at him, covering his hand briefly with his own.

“Okay.”

Still, the six of them walk down the shoreline faster than they would normally, figuring safe is better than sorry.

“Hey, look.” Pidge points at a small purple critter scuttling across the sand. “Does that thing look like it’s in a hurry to you?”

“I think all crabs kind of look like they’re in a hurry,” Hunk reasons.

Allura smiles slightly, snapping his hands. “It’s the snappiness to their movements.”

Just as they speak, however, another crab scurries along, and then another. Soon dozens of them are visible, digging themselves out of the sand or hopping out of the water, then hurrying down the shoreline like whatever their chasing is about to run out. Eventually the crowd of crabs get so thick that it’s almost impossible to walk without gently sweeping several of them aside to make room for their feet.

“Oh, hey, guys!”

A few yards in front of them, sat cross cross applesauce on the sand, surrounded by hundreds of little crabs, is Lance. In front of him is the bucket he had left with and a sponge-like chunk of seaweed. He grins sunnily at them, so widely that the brown of his eyes is hidden, they crinkle so much, and returns his attention to the bucket. He holds his hand out to one of the many crabs chittering around them, waiting for it to crawl on, then gently lowers it into the bucket, using the spongey seaweed to scrub its shell.

“I’m giving the crabs baths!” The little crab in the bucket seems to wiggle, almost, in some kind of glee, waiting for Lance to finish, pat it on the head, and set it down on the sand before scuttling away.

“You’re bathing,” says Pidge incredulously, “aquatic sand bugs.”

“Some of them have a lot of barnacle buildup,” Lance says primly.

“We thought you went missing,” Keith blurts. He can’t quite keep the fear out of his voice, that built up as soon as he’d realized that Lance was gone, fear that comes out as anger. He regrets it as soon as it comes out, bracing himself for the set to Lance’s jaw and and the defensiveness in his jaw. But to his surprise Lance only softens, holding a crab out to Keith. He takes it on reflex, blinking at it in confusion. The crab blinks back.

“I did not,” Lance promises. “But I was looking for shells, and then I saw Jorge flipped upside down, so I helped him, and then we were chilling, and then I noticed he was walking funny because of a barnacle buildup on his leg, so I asked him if he wanted me to get it off, and he didn’t answer but he was cool to hop in the bucket so I cleaned him off. And then Carmen showed up so I polished her up, and then Amelia, then Hunk Two —”

“You named a crab after me?” Hunk interrupts, visibly touched.”

Lance nods matter-of-factly. “Strong and sunset coloured. All of you have crab buddies. Look.” He scoops up six crabs from his lap, showing the Hunk-crab first, then showing three other crabs in order: a teeny-tiny dark green one with black marks around its eyes, a bright pink one that sparkles when it moves, and an orange one with markings around its mouth. “Pidge-crab, Allura-crab, Coran-crab.” Finally he holds out his hand to the crab that has been sitting protectively on his head, burrowed in his curls. It takes a moment, but eventually the little thing begrudgingly steps from the safety of Lance’s hair and into his cupped hand. He brings it carefully down, giving it an exaggerated smooch on the head.

“This one is Keith-crab,” he says. “Because it is all emo coloured and likes me best.” Lance looks up at him and grins. “I am your absolute favourite all the time, right, Mullet?”

Keith knows Lance is teasing. Obviously. Evident in the way the rest of the team is snickering to themselves, no doubt remembering the years of arguing they’ve witnessed.

But still. Keith feels lightheaded.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, bright red. There’s a beat of silence that stretches out for twelve years, then Pidge guffaws, Hunk bites his lip, and Allura straight up loses it. Even Coran hides a smile in his hand.

“What the fuck, Keith,” Lance says, strangled. His face glows worse than Keith’s does. “You’re not supposed to admit it.”

“Would it be so bad?“ Keith erupts, voice cracking. “So what you’re my favourite? There’s no way you didn’t know! I let you get away with everything! You threatened to shove a sword through my skull yesterday and I didn’t even put you in a chokehold about it!”

Lance makes a long, anguished noise, setting the crab down with great care before burying his face in his hands. “You’re so embarrassing,” he moans. “You don’t have an ounce of rizz in your body. None.”

Keith sputters. “What does that even mean!”

“It means he liiiiiiikes yooooouuuu,” Pidge crows. Allura makes kissy faces.

And, well. Pidge cannot be trusted. She has openly and gleefully informed him that lying for fun is one of her favourite hobbies, especially when Keith is at the other end of her clowning.

But Lance is still trying to shrink back into himself, embarrassed. And he always finds an excuse to have his hands on Keith, somehow. And Keith hangs out with him more than anyone else, honestly.

Keith turns to Lance, hopeful. “You do?”

Lance points at him, glaring. “This does not count. You hear me?”

Keith grins, rocking back on his heels. “I’m not sure.” Lance scowls. Keith genuinely feels like he might be floating, so long as he ignores his asshole friends. “You might have to spell it out for me.”

“You talk to me properly,” Lance lists. “When we are alone. Play it up and wax poetic and — I dunno, flowers or something. You figure it out. I refuse to have this be how I find out you have feelings for me.”

“I mean, I was never really hiding it.”

“I’ll divorce you, Keith, I swear to God.”

Humming, Keith leans close, careful of the crabs, and presses a kiss to Lance’s cheek. At the last second Lance turns his head, catching his lips and kissing him properly. His smile is wide and shy.

“Sure, Sharpshooter.”

[nashusglasses]

it's a spotlight stuck on the ceiling (why are these the things i'm feeling?) (m)

+ based off nsfw prompts: 11.  “You’re fucking hot when you cry.” & 50.  “You’re such a good cunt/cock warmer.”

note: i got tired of writing exposition so u know what? it's F word time!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! these prompts are from this list

note 2: this is based off my gojo work husband au, which. u might be asking. where is it?????????? that's a good question. I have no answer. please enjoy and lmk if u wanna know more! 8)

PAIRING. gojo/reader GENRE. established relationship WARNINGS. oral (f receiving), overstim, crying from said overstim, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex SUMMARY. You forget you ever had a bad day. WORD COUNT. 2k

You’re past any formalities of new relationship butterflies the third time Satoru gets you naked. It’s still weird that the person who fills out invoices next to you at work knows how to make you cream around his dick, but you can’t say the added baggage of dating your coworker is a bad thing. You save on gas when you sleepover at Satoru’s place. He gets his own personal cocksleeve when he’s had a bad day in the office. It works out.

It’s you who has a bad day today. Nothing catastrophic, but IT playing email tag all day pissed you off bad. You begged Satoru to get a knife from the break room and gouge your eyes out instead of looking one more second at your monitor. He’s used to the drama. He promised you a better solution, anyway. 

He kept his hand on your thigh the entirety of the drive home; a touch you’re still not quite used to, but you melted under the warmth. You crossed the threshold of his apartment door, half-expected your typical night in with takeout from the Chinese restaurant down the street. But now you’re two orgasms deep into forgetting why you needed a pick-me-up in the first place, and Satoru’s already asking:

“Think you can do one more?”

You vibrate at the thought. That’s easy. Late nights and hours with a clit sucker have prepared you well, but this is different. Toys don’t watch you squeal, crumble at the edges. Satoru gleans your every move, especially when he’s determined to make you feel good. You’d curl up, but he keeps you pliant with a hand on your thigh.

“Stop trying to hide from me,” he snorts. “I already told you I don’t care that your left boob is bigger than the other.”

“Shut up. It’s because I’m the only one naked here.” It’s true. He’s still got his work clothes on. Sleeves rolled up, one button undone because you like to fiddle with his chest when you make out. You won’t tell him that you think his slacks make his legs look ridiculously good. 

He just teases a spit-wet finger inside you. Nothing threatening but you close your eyes in anticipation. You feel him lean over, leave a quiet kiss on your nipple as an apology. “You know I like you like this.”

You do. Satoru’s a greedy lover. Coaxing those lewd noises deep from your chest not just for your pleasure, but because he knows he’s a good fuck. He realized fast that you like his fingers the most. He takes agility to a whole new level, doesn’t stop till your bones melt into the bedsprings. One more orgasm means ultra-focusing on that explosive feeling, and now you’ve got cotton candy brains. 

You’re sweating into his sheets. Something tells you he’s craving something even wetter. You’d give it to him if it meant getting him on top of you faster.

“I can do one more,” you concede, and Satoru wastes no time settling down between your knees, licking a thick stripe over your core like he’s grateful. The heat is almost unbearable. “Oh–god.”

He cradles your thighs with a tight grip. You’ve got no choice but to take it. “Relax,” he urges. “Let me make you feel good.”

You don’t expect anything less. But that sharp jolt of pleasure every time he sucks on your clit makes your head fog over. Your hands smooth into his hair, clawing when he teases his tongue inside. “It–it hurts.”

He lifts his head, mouth and chin shining. “Too much?”

“Keep going.” You’ve got a promise to keep good on. Satoru yields to your efforts, adjusts your legs till your knees settle on his shoulders. You know this move. Leaves you trapped under that incessant tongue but you’ll fiend for it regardless, and you don’t care about the cramp in your hips. Not when he’s just so into it. 

The first time he went down on you, he let you keep the lights off. Fend off the unnecessary anxiety of seeing you so vulnerable, but he made it clear that he liked hearing you unravel underneath him. You’re not shy to moan. When he drags another hard suction on your clit, you mewl loud. “Oh my god.”

The fog thickens. Arching your back, digging your nails in his scalp because he relishes any physical reaction. He slurps at your clit till he feels you shake. He’s taking advantage of your sensitivity, but the feeling is addictive. Almost like you yearn for your demise, and he’s got you right in his palm for the taking.

You’ll always give in to him. “Satoru,” you warble. “Oh–ngh!”

He heeds your call. Clutches onto your thighs even tighter, tongue a lightning strike on all your good nerves. No need for his fingers because his mouth is just that hypnotizing. You don’t know where he’s learned how to get you to fold so fast. You’ll ask him what kind of porn he’s into later.

Satoru makes the most disgusting slurping sound, and you laugh amidst the haze. “I think–haah–you’re enjoying this more than I am.”

“What?” He grumbles, kissing the soft spot above your pussy. “I get to fuck the shit out of the hot office lady, sue me.”

You blush in the praise. “So get to it.”

“I’m getting there. You want my fingers?”

In other words, choosing your poison. You’ll come either way. Your gut clenches at the thought of his fingers inside you again, clawing at your heat till you saw white, your body spun off its axis. The assurance of his mouth is softer. More bearable, because half an hour ago he’d fingered you till your begging was gibberish and you couldn’t talk for a solid minute afterwards. His ego is the brightest hue of pride when it comes to getting you off.

So you shake your head, and Satoru bends down again. He’s done easing you into it. Craving your orgasm like he’s impatient, too, and you whine when he swipes that hot tongue with hard strokes. Inviting that deep fever till your ankles dig into his back. Your mouth is dry from your panting.

“Oh my god don’t stop,” you cry, and he groans like he’s preening. You sweat where his palms meet your skin, slippery when you twitch your hips up in instinct. “Satoru–close–!”

Your eyes roll back. Satoru holds your legs wider, eats you out like he’s starving and you’re the sweetest slice of cake on the shelf. The heat makes your chest collapse with every shaky exhale, clutching on the sheets because you’ve got nothing else to hold you down. There’s spit dripping down your ass, but you relish in that wet feeling. The nasty mix of your pleasure with his. You open your eyes, lean up on your elbows to watch him savour it too.

The sight is too much. Legs dangling over those wide shoulders, his nose nestled on your clit, pushing that tongue so deep you collapse right back. Pleasure ripples quickly from your centre into all the edges of your body, and you dissolve into desperate whining.

“Holy fuck that feels good,” you praise. Satoru just moans again. Too busy luring that climax he wants down his throat, and you don’t know what to do with yourself. It’s so much. All your frayed nerves from your two orgasms make you ache for something you don’t know you can handle. 

He probably knows it, too. You might genuinely pass out. But you haven’t tapped out yet, and he’ll let you call all the shots if it’s your pussy in question. It’s almost romantic, the way he lets you take from him, chasing that feeling from his mouth. He stokes that fire over and over again.

You settle into it. All thoughts filtered out except the sounds of Satoru’s indulgence, the squeal you let out when he teases a bite. Soothing the hot rush with fast flicks of his tongue. You tense with every movement, hips canting back and forth because staying still is too much to take. 

He doesn’t heed to that, though. He clamps his hands down, forces you to take the hard latch of his tongue, guzzling hard on one spot till you’re begging in your sheer desperation. “Oh god–! Satoru, I’m–coming..!”

There’s 0.01 of a second before you feel the wave crash, and you’re reduced to nothing but a mess of your most intense orgasm of the night. Gargling nonsense, shrieking his name, his nails digging indents in your skin to keep you from flailing too hard because holy shit are you going through it.

“Oh my god,” you hiccup, and all of sudden you’re crying, and you shiver with every tremor of your subsiding high. “Oh my god, Satoru. Holy fuck. Y-You–”

“I’m here,” he says. He leans up, wipes his (extremely!) wet mouth on the back of hand, crawling over till he can cradle your head to his chest. “Jesus. You’re shaking.”

You’re weeping. Your body shivers closer to his. “Yeah. Oh my god.”

“I can’t even lie.” He presses a soft kiss on your hair, a little reward. “You’re fucking hot when you cry.”

If you had the energy you’d kick his shins till they bruise. But for some reason you can’t stop the tears from falling, and you heave through another sob. “Yeah, well. I’ve just–never felt that before.”

Satoru grins. Leans down to kiss your mouth with no urgency, just the need to feel your lips on his. Despite your exhaustion, you know he’s still left wanting. 

You feel his dick press up against your stomach when he kisses you harder, sneak a hand down his slacks to tease a stroke. He tenses up.

“You’re not tired?” He asks. The answer is a resounding yes, but you won’t let him know. As if you could just leave him to jack off in the bathroom while you take your well-deserved post orgasm slumber. You tug at his zipper till he finally gets it, and he shoves his pants and underwear off like he’s relieved.

You sniffle when he settles over you again. “I feel like I want you all the time,” you confess. 

Call it the general horniness of discovering your partner’s body, but you can’t remember the last time your hormones have acted up like this. You’re almost scared for the calendar reminder of your next ovulation period, but you think Satoru won’t mind one bit.

He just nods. Smiles into another long kiss, and you spread your aching legs for him to position himself. It doesn’t surprise you both just how fast he slides inside you, all that residual wetness a sticky invitation. “Oh. That’s–oh don’t move yet, shit.”

It’s still new. The instant transition from empty to full, and Satoru collapses into your neck. “You’re still–so tight.”

“Means I’m not horny yet,” you joke. You don’t think you have any orgasms left in you, but the thought of Satoru creaming you till you spill over has a luring call to it. “The hell’s wrong with you?”

“My bad. Guess I’ll–” he bottoms out, and you bury a moan in his hair– “try better next time. Holy shit. You’re such a good cockwarmer.”

“Go to hell–ngh!”

“I’m taking you with me.” Satoru chokes through the small twitch of his hips, like he can’t help the motion. You feel it tenfold. Eyes rolled back with the sensitivity because you honest to god could not come again.

He rolls a deeper stroke still sticky with your arousal. Moans streaming from his mouth right into the heat of your neck, and he bites down to hear you squeal. “Fuck that feels good,” you teeter with clenched teeth.

Satoru leans up, watching you dissolve. “Like it when I go deep?”

“God yes,” you hiss. You still twinge with the novelty of dirty talk, but Satoru makes it easy to get used to. He’s earnest with his fucking now. Still shy of the harder thrusts you know he’s capable of, but you revel in the pleasure regardless. 

You’re going to start crying again. 

“Oh baby,” Satoru coos. He slams a thrust so heavy you sob. “That good?”

“Ye-es–!”

He does it again. Takes one second of breathing space to ram his dick so hard his balls make that foul sound against your ass, and you’re sure he’s watching your tits bounce like the perv he is. It feels good, knowing you get him off. He swipes a stray tear from your chin, leaning down to kiss you. Swallowing the hiccups you can’t get rid of. Satoru licks fire behind your teeth.

“How ‘bout one more?” 

He’s smiling. You’re shaking with tears and he’s smiling. Sick freak knows it’s not happening, and you bet he’s goading you because he’s close. So you shake your head, heeding with no verbal response because you can’t think straight. Not when he’s picking up the pace, bed frame complaining under you. You cry freely. “Sa-to-ru–!”

He kisses the spot between your eyebrows, grunts with every press inside you. “I’m close,” he pants. 

“I want it,” you quaver. You pull him close. Hide your face on his shoulder, forgetting to breathe. “I–I want you to come, please–!”

“Oh fuck.” He lets his pleasure guide him. Hips twitching in that desperate draw for a climax, and he sits up on his haunches just to fuck up into you faster. You’re limp with every movement, wailing from the change of position. 

He seizes the meat of your inner thighs. Keeps you embarrassingly exposed with rugged hands, and you think you’re wet all over.

“Please,” you beg. Your pussy so battered you think you’ll pass out any second now. “I can’t–”

“I’m coming.” Satoru’s head hangs forward with concentration. Watching where your centres meet, his dick creaming you full. “Oh my god baby–!”

You open your legs as much as your hips allow. It’s a depraved sight: the base of Satoru’s cock white with your combined arousal, and you can’t help but squeeze him deeper inside you. He shivers through another wave of his orgasm, pumps till he physically can’t take the warmth of your cunt, pulling out quick. He collapses on top of you.

You think he’s got cum on your stomach. “Mmmrrghhhhh,” he grumbles.

“I’m sweating balls,” you say.

“Hmmmm.”

“And I’m spilling cum onto your sheets.”

He shrugs. Still saying nothing, so you pet his hair with a tired hand. 

“I don’t think I can walk,” you tell him next.

Satoru huffs a breathless laugh. He groans incoherently one more time, then flops onto his side of the bed like a dead fish. He keeps his eyes closed. After thirty long seconds of silence, he twitches so violently you flinch. “Huh–oh.”

“There’s no way you just fell asleep.”

“Maybe.” He licks his lips like he’s parched. “Good pussy does that to you.”

“Oh my god.”

“Let me rephrase. Hot office lady pussy does that to you.” 

“I need you to stop talking,” you urge.

Satoru opens his eyes. Gives you a tired little smile, and you feel your heart twist. “You have cum on your belly button, nasty ass.”

He rolls out of bed before you can smack him. He owes you that takeout, after all.

[starman-john-tracy]

"You're safe here with me" + "I won't let anything happen to you" with Casey? :) 💙

John had taken the space elevator down to the GDF headquarters no more than half an hour ago, at Colonel Casey's request. There'd been a cyber attack on base; an attempted takeover of the GDF's long range weapons systems, and though nothing has been fired - they needed to rule out the possibility that someone could. With the tech team scrambling for solutions, scouring the databanks for any way someone could have remotely accessed their codes and their LAN, the Colonel could only think of one man she both trusts, and who’s qualified to step in and salvage the situation.

And with an updated firewall to prevent remote access, that he personally provided the protocol for, the only thing John Tracy can do to help is show up in person.

Only, John's got the soft edge of an atmospheric headache throbbing in his sinuses and his eyeballs are always the slowest thing to respond to the change in pressure between Five and Earth, so, as he bypasses the office full of scurrying IT consultants and heads directly for the server room, ready to not-entirely-legally plug Eos’ palm sized mobile unit into the GDF’s databases to assess the damage, he completely misses the slim, shadowed figure in amongst the data processing banks.

Because the remote attack hadn’t actually been remote at all, and the gunshot wound to John's shoulder, now leaking a dangerous amount of blood all over his IR blues, seemed like a pretty big clue this was no employee.

They're currently holed up in Casey's office - after the head of the GDF had bodily dragged his skinny space ass out of there. She's trying to force him down behind her desk and out of the way, while the intruder pounds on the door: his threats mostly incoherent screams and stray gunshots. John might not be as hot-headed as Scott or his youngest brothers, but he's still a Tracy and, clearly, the last thing he wants to do is sit still while others might be in danger and so the damned fool, who’s clearly never been shot before, keeps trying to get up.

“Colonel, we’ve got to- argh!” The spaceman gasps and jerks like a livewire as Casey presses a wad of cloth - a runner snatched from the fancy corporate meeting table - hard against the dark, bubbling wound in his shoulder. John's feet kick out, heels scraping helplessly against the corporate grey carpeting, and the boy's back arches against the pain in a way that plummets Valerie Casey’s heart straight through her shoes. She forces the emotion away, grabs one of his cold, blue-clad hands, and guides it on top of the wound.

“Keep pressure on that.” She instructs, as the dark stain spreads rapidly into not only his IR blues, but the ugly purple runner too. His fingers fumble and fail to take over the task, and a soft whine makes its way out between his teeth. “Come on John, you know to keep pressure on.” He's having a hard time focusing on her. She thinks he might be in shock.

“But the gunman,” John gasps, his head thrashing to the side, eyes wide, “he’s after-”

“John.” She cups John's ashen, blood-splattered face between both palms, like she would when he was a small boy and he'd come to the woman who was his Auntie in all but DNA with a bruised cheek and a split lip because he didn’t want to tell his Father he was being bullied at school. "You're safe here with me." Her mouth is a hard white line as she unclips her service pistol from it's holster, "I won't let anything happen to you."

The wood around the door handle audible splinters under a particularly savage impact, and Jeff's boy flinches under her fingers.

Oh, absolutely not.

"Security is on their way and no one is getting into this room, John. And if they somehow do," She raises the gun with both hands, holding it steady and level with the door, "they are not getting through me.”

[starsurface]

these are great :) Plz plz mk1 headcanons for care-giver Liu Kang with a baby regressor

Oh my goodness, Liu Kang would be such a great CG!!!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Lord Liu Kang w/ Babyspace Regressor Hcs

🌟 Ugh, he's such a good CG :(

🌟 Another CG that does really good with almost all ages too!!

🌟 But absolutely adores baby regressors (guys they're so cute, come on 🥺)

🌟 Favorite CG nicknames are Dada, Papa, Liu-Liu, or honestly just babbling and grabby hands for him (he finds it adorable)

🌟 But will be absolutely floored if you called him any kind of CG indication nickname!!!

🌟 Favorite nicknames for you are Firestarter, Starlight, Sunshine, Baby, Sweetie, Honey, Little One, my Flame, Tiny Fire 🥺

🌟 If your nonverbal or just like babbling more than talking, he's actually very good at finding out what you want rather quickly

🌟 Tummy time is one of his favorite activities, especially if you lay on his chest (finds it really funny when you try to eat his nose at times)

🌟 Since your a baby, you can't really meditate with him, but it's another good opportunity for play mat tummy time that he'll have installed into his personal room

🌟 If you wanna try to meditated, he's very encouraging!!!

🌟 (^ But we all know either your going to pass out on his lap or slowly chew on all his fingers)

🌟 Very good and gentle with biters or chewers

🌟 Mostimes he'll just remind you that we don't bite and tease on whether your a baby or an monkey (meanie >:(

🌟 Will get you a super cute paci that's all decorated based off your favorite animal, or a dragon

🌟 I can see him really liking storytime, but acting out storytime (especially if he gets to pretend to be a dragon for whatever reason)

🌟 He's not very good at acting the parts, but he always gets you to giggle and clap your hands happily, so its always fun in the end

🌟 Very soft with padded regressors

🌟 Any accidents don't need a big fuss or a big cry about, it's all okay, Dade's here to help <3

🌟 If your a naughty baby that thrives off testing his patience? Psh, good luck, this man's patience levels are through the roof!!

🌟 Man has a constant watch over you, always making sure you aren't getting into too much trouble

🌟 Your safety is his number one concern, so matter how much you whine or pout

🌟 Very on dot with the rules unless your this tiny, because he understands that you might not know exactly what your doing wrong

🌟 Still won't let you eat more candy than necessary though >:/

🌟 Really easily persuade like Nightwolf though, just sit and look at the ground going ‘🥺’ and you'll get whatever candy you want >:3

🌟 Another big outside encourager

🌟 Will take you to his favorite hill with a blanket and some soft toys and you two can have a picnic!! :D

🌟 Even though this man's already very gentle with you, he becomes extremely gentle when it comes to naptime

🌟 There's not much fussing over naptime unfortunately :(

🌟 He'll set up a small naptime routine you two do together (put all the toys away, brush teeth, brush hair, get into soft jammies)

🌟 If you don't own any jammies, he will go out of his way and get you the nicest pair of jammies he can find (will probably do this if you do anyways, so you can match!!)

🌟 Amazing cuddles, especially in the winter!! He runs more warmer since he's the God of fire

🌟 Might suck a bit during the summers but he'll at least hold your hand or have one arm on you if you're too hot

🌟 If you regress negatively for any reason or just overall feel icky that day, he's very comforting

🌟 Rocking you, focusing all his time and attention on you, trying to make any bad thoughts or memories go away

🌟 He's very set on making sure his baby feels a little bit better by the end of the day, even if he has to do the most silliest things to make you happy <3

🌟 If you attempt any of his super awesome ninja moves while small he might just have a heart attack

🌟 Especially since your a bit too young to be attempting ANY of his really awesome moves :(

🌟 But if you lay on your back and do something similar to his bicycle kick, he'll look very proud in you

🌟 If you made him anything while small, he's keeping it and cherishing it like it's an artifact from ancient blah blah blah

🌟 Even if it was just a piece of paper with two wiggle lines because you got bored!! It's hanging on his wall and he's very proud of it

🌟 Is really good with hissy fits and getting you to calm down

🌟 Will walk around the room and bounce you

🌟 Generally just likes having you in his arms, your his baby after all <3

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

He's so Dad coded, I love him. :3

[vellichorom]

You make rlly good rants / have great takes,. So. I was wondering. What do you think is the biggest / most popular stereotype when it comes to the Narrator ??

I wanna make a drawing kinda based off of the stereotypes people see , and I was wondering what you think. Is probably most popular :3

oh GOD, the biggest most popular stereotype eh? ironically asked just as i'm listening to the narrator's voice lines...

well, i'm going to have to go with something OBVIOUS & say that that would be the IMPOSSIBLE to miss notion that " he's hot " & people envisioning him ONLY through an attractive filter;

do i think his voice is attractive? of COURSE i do, i'm not made of stone! & kevan PRIDES himself in his work & knows a vast majority are INSANE about his voice, as well he should, he's got great talent!

HOWEVER, then going on to define his EVERYTHING based on this attraction is annoying at best & sickeningly irritating at worst.

it's SO obvious some narrator designs are solely based on artist wet dreams or banking on others', with the narrator's actual characterization being thrown COMPLETELY out the window.

guys your sexyman literally gets all pouty without attention & has the bite of a 5th grader, he would Not be as attractive or cool as you think he is. this ISN'T even exclusive TO people who make the narrator a handsome twink either! however, it is WAY more prevalent in that area, therefore we side-eye.

it just feels a Lot like others create designs SIMPLY based around aesthetics & generic appeal rather than... creating a CHARACTER, or recognizing the character that DOES come attached with the voice you find so hot. & then SOMETIMES, people form entirely alternate characterization for their design rather than canon, but still insisting that it IS indeed canon!

listen can we stop touting the funny clock 0ut guy as the Token, peak, & true TSP narrator design. i like him too but it's making me real upset now

IF you're going for characterization of the narrator that you want to be AS TRUE to canon as possible, you need to take a step back & realize this man is a manchild & probably does Not have the divine powers of a god & doesn't have to Look or Act as attractive as you think his voice is. even the most BEAUTIFUL aspects of a person can come from a deeply flawed individual & that's okay, & in characters, EXTREMELY endearing! insisting to make a character beautiful & flawless in every aspect just results in a very flat character that will ONLY ever serve as basic eyecandy, & only to a handful in the end.

beyond that, i can't really think of anything else that's as strongly stereotyped for the narrator beyond. you know, general fandom mischaracterizations methink? pushing his attitude to extremes with NO even level & misunderstanding his intentions. ...but at this rate, i'll TAKE THE most pathetic soft boy narrator as opposed to the absolutely physically RIPPED daddy narrators i've had to see a few times. jesus

& hey, listen- MAKE your AUs, MAKE your characterizations into OCs & such, do WHATEVER you want that makes you happy, i'm REALLY HONESTLY not here to kill anyone's fun & i won't ever resent you for how you choose to enjoy your blorbos, take my words with some salt; these are simply my dipshit ass opinions that some people enjoy hearing!

which, THANK YOU anon! may this new rant satisfy thee & help you with your project!