#the ONLY thing that is TOP about him is his two kids

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.” 

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.” 

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist. 

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.” 

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep. 

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity. 

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December. 

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls. 

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.” 

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.” 

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.” 

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks. 

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?” 

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-” 

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face. 

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.  

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern. 

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion. 

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.” 

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind. 

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.  

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.” 

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?” 

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip. 

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.” 

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him. 

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.” 

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on. 

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response. 

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.” 

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough. 

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.” 

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet. 

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-” 

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.” 

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family. 

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.” 

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.” 

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters. 

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin. 

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him. 

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one. 

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.  

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him. 

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand. 

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs. 

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him. 

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours. 

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded. 

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame. 

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him. 

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.” 

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest. 

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way. 

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths. 

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.” 

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you. 

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!” 

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath. 

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high. 

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you. 

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” 

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest. 

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.” 

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns. 

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.” 

“Oh my god, you are the worst.” 

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents. 

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw. 

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[sweeturavity]

Hay! Heh, I am a fan about your post, and i was wondering if you can do a bakugou x y/n post where they are 25 and have a 6 year old son named kanji that looks and acts like bakugou, and they are at a grocery store and kanji sees a toy and makes a BIG tantrum embarrassing Y/n, and bakugou let's out his strict father side, aka bakugou is 1 hero, so... yeah.... rich.. THANK YOU 😭

𝓒𝐎𝐏��� 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄

you loved your husband dearly—even though his attitude sometimes felt like wrangling a feral cat, you couldn’t imagine your life without him. katsuki was a great husband and an even better father. somehow, he managed to juggle being the number one hero, a title that came with endless demands, while still making time for you and your little family.

and then there was kanji. your six-year-old son who was, quite frankly, a miniature katsuki in every sense. the same fiery attitude, the unshakable stubbornness, the sass that could cut sharper than any blade. even the way he’d glare at people—it was uncanny. sometimes you’d swear you were looking at a younger version of your husband.

it wasn’t just his personality, either. kanji’s wild blond hair, sharp crimson eyes, and even the way he crossed his arms when he was annoyed? all bakugou. it was as if the universe had taken katsuki and hit the copy-paste button without consulting you first. you couldn’t help but feel a little robbed—after all, you were the one who carried him for nine months, dealt with the swollen feet, the cravings, the mood swings. and yet, kanji turned out to be a walking, talking katsuki replica.

but honestly? you didn’t really mind. even when kanji’s temper flared, or when he mimicked his dad’s bossy tone, it made your heart warm. because as much as katsuki’s attitude could be a challenge, you loved everything about him. and seeing those same traits in kanji, no matter how chaotic they made your days, was a reminder of the love the two of you had built.

you always knew how much your son looked up to his father—it was written all over kanji’s face. every little thing katsuki did, kanji wanted to do, too. he’d follow katsuki around the house, mimicking his movements, copying the way he crossed his arms or the gruff way he’d say, ‘tch’. kanji’s biggest dream, even at six years old, was to be the number one hero, just like his dad. and katsuki? oh, he ate that up.

“when you’re older, kid, i’ll show ya all the tricks.” katsuki would say, ruffling kanji’s already messy blond hair. “i’ll make sure you’re better than all those extras out there.” kanji’s eyes would light up every time, and the two of them would launch into some over-the-top conversation about training regimens and hero rankings. their bond was undeniable, built on the same fiery ambition and drive that katsuki had passed down to him.

but with that bond came the attitude. katsuki’s attitude. and you swore sometimes it was your curse to deal with two versions of the same fiery temper under one roof. kanji had inherited more than just katsuki’s looks—he had the same sharp tongue, the same unrelenting sass, and the same way of glaring at you like you were personally ruining his day when he didn’t get his way.

you loved your son to pieces, but oh, how your patience was tested.

you swore sometimes you could feel your eye twitch when your six-year-old son had the audacity to sass you. “kanji, clean up your toys.” you’d say, only to be met with an exasperated; “ugh, fine, mom. i’ll do it later, jeez!” complete with an eye roll so dramatic it could win awards.

“watch your tone, kanji.” you’d warn, and from the next room, katsuki would shout, “oi, don’t be talkin’ to your mom like that, you little brat!” and yet, you’d catch him stifling a laugh when kanji wasn’t looking, because deep down, katsuki knew exactly where the kid got it from.

there were days you swore you were outnumbered—two bakugous against one you—but deep down, you couldn’t help but love it. kanji’s sass, as frustrating as it could be, was just another reminder of the fiery, headstrong family you’d built. even if it meant you’d occasionally lose an argument to a six-year-old.

and that’s how you ended up in this situation. you were just trying to get through the grocery trip without any chaos. that was the goal. in and out—grab the essentials and avoid anything that might set off your six-year-old son, kanji. but, of course, life had other plans.

everything had been going smoothly until you turned down the toy aisle, rookie mistake. kanji’s sharp gaze zeroed in on a display of action figures, specifically a limited-edition hero toy that looked suspiciously like dynamight himself. his tiny hand grabbed your sleeve, tugging with determination.

“mom! mom! look! it’s dad’s toy! i need it!”

you gave him a soft smile, crouching down to his level. “kanji, we’re not getting toys today, baby. we’re just here for groceries. you already have tons of toys at home.”

big mistake.

his bottom lip jutted out, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “but i don’t have this one!”

before you could reason with him, he dropped to the floor in a dramatic fashion, kicking his legs and letting out an ear-piercing wail that had heads turning from all directions. your cheeks burned as you tried to calm him, murmuring soft words that fell on deaf ears.

“kanji, stop this right now.” you whispered, glancing around at the growing number of onlookers. “you’re making a scene.”

“i don’t care!” he shouted back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “i want it!”

just as you were about to give up and let the earth swallow you whole, a familiar voice cut through the chaos like a whip.

“kanji.”

you didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. katsuki’s voice was low and sharp, the kind that made grown adults flinch—and it had your son freezing mid-tantrum.

before you could say anything else, katsuki—who’d been a few steps behind grabbing something off the shelf—appeared, his towering figure and unmistakable presence shutting down the entire aisle’s noise. his crimson eyes narrowed as he looked at kanji.

“oi, brat. knock it off.” he barked, his voice low and firm, the same tone he used as pro hero dynamight when things got serious. kanji’s sobs faltered for a moment, but he looked up at his dad with that same fiery determination katsuki himself had mastered.

“but daddy! i need it!” kanji tried, sniffling dramatically.

“you don’t need it.” katsuki shot back, crossing his arms over his chest. “what you need is to listen to your mom and stop actin’ like a damn spoiled kid.”

kanji’s bottom lip quivered. “but—”

“no buts.” katsuki interrupted, crouching down to kanji’s level. his tone softened just slightly, though his eyes stayed sharp. “you think screamin’ and cryin’ is gonna get you what you want? not a chance. that ain’t how it works. you don’t get somethin’ just ‘cause you throw a fit. you gotta earn it, got it?”

kanji blinked up at him, his tears slowing as the weight of his dad’s words sank in. he mumbled something incoherent, and katsuki tilted his head.

“what was that?”

“got it.” kanji said more clearly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“good.” bakugou said, ruffling the boy’s spiky blonde hair before standing back up. he glanced at you, his expression softening slightly. “you okay, mama?”

“yeah.” you muttered, still feeling the lingering embarrassment from the scene. “thanks for stepping in.”

he smirked, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple. “you’ve been dealin’ with his crap all day, huh?”

“you have no idea.”

bakugou glanced back at kanji, who was now holding onto your leg, looking thoroughly chastised.“now quit the damn tears and help your mom with the list.” katsuki stood up and ruffled kanji’s messy blond hair, his version of an apology for being so harsh.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. katsuki turned to you with a smirk, his tone lighter now. “what?”

“strict dad mode, huh?” you teased, trying not to laugh.

“damn right. kid’s gotta learn. can’t have him thinkin’ just ‘cause his old man’s dynamight he can get whatever he wants.”

later, as you loaded groceries into the car, you noticed katsuki handing a small bag to kanji, who lit up with excitement.

“you bought it for him anyway?” you asked, raising a brow.

katsuki shrugged, smirking. “don’t get used to it, kid.” he said to kanji. “this doesn’t mean you get what you want every time.”

kanji nodded enthusiastically, clutching the action figure like it was the greatest treasure in the world.

you rolled your eyes, a fond smile tugging at your lips. “strict dad, my ass.”

“hey.” katsuki shot back, pulling you closer. “i can be strict and still spoil my kid. he is a bakugou, after all.”

[whatdidtheydotomygirljinx]

Jinx just never really liked Vander that much.

One of the things that, to me, seemed like a main theme in Jinx's arc in season 1 was the contrast between her two families, and how her switch from Vander's daughter to Silco's drastically changes the way her personality takes shape.

And I hate that the fandom, and now the show, too, has reduced Silco to an unhealthy influence in Jinx's life, pushing her towards her "bad" side (being Jinx) when, for all his flaws... he gives her a better childhood than she ever had with Vander. The first three episodes of the first season, to me, when I watched them, illustrate quite clearly that Powder feels unhappy in her family life. She is the most mal-adjusted of Vander's kids. Her older brother constantly berates her, and it's quite clearly having a big effect on her self-image. She later takes up the Jinx name and persona once she feels like she has become irredeemable as a person. Her other brother never defends her. Vi is the only one who is there for her, and they care for each other, but at the same time you can see there's still a little insecurity in their relationship. Vi is worried that maybe Powder is indeed too weak, and Powder worries that maybe Vi does indeed see her as a Jinx like her brother does.

And when it comes to Vander... he's just not really all that present in her life. And I don't blame him, the man has four kids to take care of, on top of keeping things running in the Undercity. It's clearly not his intention. But it doesn't change the fact that he's not there for Powder, not as much as she needs. To me, when I watched the first season, it seemed like Vander was a figure that felt far away to Powder, someone that she admired but also feared being completely herself around, and someone that she ultimately wished to be closer to than she actually was. It's worth mentioning that Jinx never says his name post time skip, and he is not a hallucination for her, not until Vi brings him up in the finale. Hell, Claggor is somehow a hallucination for her and he never even speaks. Vander was just not an influential figure in Jinx's life.

I always found the scene at the end of ep3 of s1 fascinating, because Powder never once mourns Vander. She never once cries for him and never once says his name. When she sees his dead body, she becomes shocked and starts crying, but it's not actually what breaks her. What breaks her is Vi's rejection. Had it just been that she accidentally caused the deaths of her brothers and adoptive father, she would not have crumbled mentally. It's Vi's rejection that destroys her. Now, of course, a little girl that cares more about her sister's affection towards her than the lives of her family members is kinda messed up, but that's what makes her character interesting. And we can see that that little girl doesn't go anywhere, as Jinx displays the exact same one-mindness about her sister. Because Jinx and Powder were never really that different, after all.

She is quite clearly placed with her back to Vander's body, that she never turns to, barely looks at, only enough to recognize him and see he's dead, and never says the name of. She's turned towards Vi, calling for Vi, crying because of Vi, and no one else. Heck, Vi had just been crying over his body a few moment ago. Vi is clearly distraught over his death. Vi is devastated, she literally punches her sister and curses her in the exact worst possible way she can, in the way she know it will hurt her sister the most. But Powder... she just honestly dgaf.

So to then hear Jinx say this line in season 2...

...is just straight up jarring. I was pulled out of the story when I heard this. This is Jinx saying this to Vi. This kinda makes it seem like it was Jinx who was most attached to Vander, or at least that she was just as attached to him as Vi was. Which is just not how things seemed in the story at literally any point until this one. And then season 2 continues this way, and somehow makes Jinx seem like the closest daughter to Vander. Flipping Warwick literally acts more attached to Jinx than Vander ever did to Powder. Like literally. Season 1 clearly sets up that Vi is the favorite daughter, and then they just... flip it?? Warwick cares more for Jinx and responds better to her than to Vi. It's actually insane. It's true they sanitized Jinx's character to hell and back this season, but this is a straight-up rewrite. I can't wrap my mind around why they did this. Plus, the entirety of act 2 they set up this weird and pointless arc of Jinx rekindling her relationship with Vander or something... and like literally her story was genuinely never about that.

(This COULD have been Vi's story. And that might have actually been cool, and made sense. Maybe Vi is the one who finds him, and she is the one who helps him calm down. And then she brings Jinx, and maybe Jinx is terrified because she was never that close to Vander, and then she literally killed him, so seeing him again is the last thing she wants. Maybe VI is the one who tells Jinx that "he was your dad, too", which would make A LOT more sense, and maybe that's the first time that Jinx thinks that oh, yeah, he was... And then maybe they have a cute moment where Vander forgives her. Or maybe she sees the state he's in right now and loses it completely. Or maybe they look at each other and they both see the monster each of them has become. And then maybe Vi looks down at the enforcer uniform she's wearing, and, privately, sees it too. Idk. The things we could have had.)

Silco was actually a good dad to Jinx, in all the ways that Vander wasn't. He gives her all the attention that she never had before. He not only listens to her, but actively asks for her side of the story. He never insults her, and he defends her against Sevika. He trusts her and gives her opportunities to prove she's capable. She goes from being one of four siblings, and getting lost in the shuffle and often ending up feeling forgotten and alone, to being the most important child, always taken into consideration and almost put on a pedestal by her dad (this, like, has to have cured some inner wounds, i think).

Silco understands Jinx better than any other character in the show, and I'm genuinely sad that we didn't get to see any flashback of Jinx growing up with him. Because their relationship was so unique, and so integral to Jinx's character and to the rest of the story, that the fact that we never get to see any other glimpse into their bond is just...

As a final note, I'd also like to add that I dislike when people say that Silco "groomed" Jinx. I think a much more realistic analysis is that he enabled her. And as for all the times he tells Jinx that Vi "betrayed her", that's just a reflection of his own trauma, and also because he fears that if Jinx knew Vi was alive, she would go back to her and leave him (which, considering what goes down in the s1 finale, not an unfounded fear). It's wrong that he does that, but it's not out of malicious intent (also tbh Jinx never really seems to believe him anyway).

And for all the people who say that Silco "turned Jinx into a terrorist" (dumbest people in this fandom fr, im sorry), that's just straight up not true. Powder was already like that. That is quite literally why Silco adopts her. Because he sees that she's like him. Silco would not have taken Powder in if he thought she was just a cute, innocent kid who was orphaned (to, what, raise her for years so that, MAYBE when she's older, she MIGHT be useful to him? when they meet he doesn't know she's the one that caused the explosion, he just knows that she's been abandoned by Vi). This is the kid who thought playing around with explosives was a fun hobby. This is the kid who giggled at the thought of hurting others. This is the kid who already suffered from explosive emotions. This is the kid who saw her father and her brothers dead, because of her, and all she cared about was whether her sister was mad at her because of it. This is the kid who throws herself at the first person she sees, someone who her sister hates, who is the cause of all this destruction, and with an anger that shocks most viewers, declares that Vi is not her sister anymore. She is livid in that one moment.

Powder already had it in her from the beginning. And it's also ok to like a character (and to write one) even if they are not 100% morally pure in every single way under the sun, cause that is quite literally what stories are for.

[notroosterbradshaw]

dying to know how reader reacted to finding out she was pregnant in the boyfriend experience uni 😫 likeeee ik she wasn’t ready for kids in uncle brooster but bradley was so were there mixed feelings abt it? especially since there was no telling when he’d be deployed again

Hi nonny, I don’t know where you are in the cosmos. But this is for you x

A/N I forgot I had this. I don't have the time this close to Xmas/at all to proof/improve so for those of you still in the TGM, I hope you enjoy and merry merry, happy happy xx

“Roll the dice,” you reiterate to Bradley. “If we get pregnant, great. If we don’t…”

“It’s you and me and we are great with that,” Bradley answered, the faintest glint of hope in his shining honey eyes.

You knew he was on Team Baby. He wasn't pressing it; he couldn’t. That wasn’t fair to you… to him or anyone else. You’d said your piece well before you got engaged, and well before today.

The day you married him.

But in the back of the afterglow of lovemaking as husband and wife, you’d told him you’d go off birth control after your honeymoon if he still wanted to try for a baby. You didn’t want it to be immediate, you wanted to enjoy being married and the fun that came with it. And Bradley agreed. You didn’t want to be thinking about periods and not drinking and having the time of your lives. Bradley was busier with work now than ever before, and with the work extensions complete, new staffing, and more small business to take care of, even though you were together every night? You were still doing your own things, barely getting into bed at the same time.

Thing was, you were only hoping to be a newlywed once - marriage wasn't as big a thing for you as it was for Bradley. And even babies. You loved your niece and nephew and Uncle Brooster was fantastic with them - it always left a pang in your heart that he would be such a good father. But even he admitted he wouldn't have the first idea of how to do it since his dad wasn't around when he was growing up and Maverick wasn't exactly an example of patriarchal learning.

You didn’t want to add the stress of calculating ovulation even if an app would do it for you, the disappointment of periods coming… you just wanted to have fun fucking, and pleasing each other as you moved into the next phase of your lives. The stress Annie went through and the lengths she was going to with IVF therapies - overwhelming hormones, nausea, mood swings, sore boobs, abdominal discomfort. God, when you had a difficult period, you could assume similarly but as Annie went through her treatments, at a fairly young age, it was eye-opening at best.

You remembered one sentence so vividly that it scared you to your bones, “When your biological clock starts… it’s all that your brain hears. You can’t undo it and it messes with your head.”

See? Terrifying. Fair for all involved.

But when your period was late after about two periods since going off birth control, you kind of hoped it was the drama of irregular periods and what it brought. It was why you went on the pill in the first place in your teens.

But there was something different as you channel surfed and Bradley cooked in the (motherfucking, finally renovated) kitchen. A strange cramping in your tummy. Not unbearable, but noticeable as you pressed against the pulsating pressure and made a face. Sighing, you unfolded yourself from the couch and moved to your handsome husband. You tenderly kissed between his shoulder blades and he gave an over the top shudder, as you giggled into his skin. He put his utensil down and turned to you, holding your chin in his calloused bug hand and giving you a quick peck before you quietly excused yourself, but not yet willing to admit to him it was to do a pregnancy test. And you weren’t entirely surprised when it revealed you were 1-2 weeks pregnant. And you weren’t entirely surprised when you showed him the positive pregnancy test after dinner that still certainly said PREGNANT in fat, bold letters.

“It tells you how many weeks?” Bradley was astonished, his eyes glued to the digital reading before him.

“Clever, huh?” you said quietly. Bradley’s honey eyes flicked to regard you. Unreadable at best, erring on the side of too quiet. Reserved, but not disappointed, he had trouble reading you sometimes, and this was one he'd need you to talk through. He needed to know exactly what was going on through your head.

“You good?” he asked softly, grasping the test in his strong palm. It was so small but it held his world in his grip. He put the test down to caress your jaw, forcing your gaze to him. “Love…” his fingers light as they sunk into the hair at the nape of your neck. “My sweet girl,” he called to you.

“I think I am. It’s just… quick," you surrender, falling into his sound touch.

“It is quick,” Bradley agreed, kissing your hair. “Is it too quick?”

“Maybe…” you admitted as he pressed a kiss into your temple and wrapped his strong arms around you. He felt too warm and he protected you without question, you really couldn’t imagine life without him right there.

“If it’s too soon, that’s okay," he said softly.

“I saw how hard it was for Annie and just expected we’d be on our own a bit longer. Genetics and shit."

He bit back his smile and your inadvertent joke, or necessary sarcasm. Bradley hummed. “I think your genetics are pretty fine, if you ask me.”

Eyes rolling in corny, you muttered his name as a warning that jokes were unnecessary at this time.

“Okay, okay,” he answered, palms up, teasing off. He knew you were withholding and he knew he was holding everything back in his body not to go over the top with the excitement bubbling in his entire being. “Love, is this what you want? If you're not ready - if you have changed your mind - ”

I just need some time,” you admitted, cutting him off. “Just to get used to…” your voice trailed.

Bradley nodded. He in no way felt like it was his place to speak and as the facial one between the pair of you? Well. So he just continued to hold you and whisper that whatever you decided was okay, and he would support you with anything you decided, a lot or not he wasn’t sure. He thought you were on the same page. He thought you both wanted this -

Like you, his insides were much and could feel himself lightheaded. He grounded himself and carefully reminded himself this wasn’t about him for now. It was getting your beautifully convoluted brain and heart to the same place his was:

Ready.

“What if this is our only chance?” You asked quietly. “What if - “ you shut your mouth and the guilt of situation started to overwhelm you. Bradley only hummed, still choosing to remain mute. “Would you hate me?”

He remained reflective a moment, choosing his words carefully his best option.

“No, love. But I would never live with myself if I forced you to do something you weren’t ready for. Come,” he took your hands and led you to the bedroom. He helped you take off your clothes, his large palm resting gently over your abdomen for just a second longer than he should have and it didn’t go unnoticed by you.

His baby in your protective, strong body.

He pulled back the duvet and patted your pillow as you snuck under the cold sheets, thinking maybe you could sleep a year. He climbed in after you, the warm skin of his chest against your back under the slowly spinning ceiling fan. His fingertips traced your hip, slowly drawing his name on your skin. "If you don't want to do this, it's okay.”

There was your voice of reason.

“But it's still something you'll need to consider pretty quick..."

Always offering you both sides.

It was silent a while and while Bradley’s excitement was guarded carefully, even he knew this conversation was not the light and excited one he thought you’d share instead.

"I want this," you were able to say, but it was easier with him not boring his eyes into yours. He kissed your shoulder and nuzzled the nape of your neck.

"I love you," he said so softly you almost didn't hear him. "I won't let you do this alone."

The fateful night you told your family and the Dagger Squad was when it really started to feel real. Your pregnancy to that point has been pretty good. You only turned green as food cooked around you so it was easy to excuse yourself and the extreme exhaustion that overwhelmed you the first trimester slinked away entering the second. You weren’t horribly unwell but things were definitely changing within you.

Boobs sore and off limits to Bradley even though he’d playfully volunteered his palms but your personal support system. It went about as well as expected.

“Just ginger ale tonight?” Bob smiled a while later. You’d been chatting quietly together while Bradley’s squad played pool and generally one-upped each other around you.

“What do you mean?” God, you hated lying to such a delight as Bob. He was so sweet, and although Bradley had alluded to his well-guarded playboy-like ways, he was always darling to you.

“I have four sisters,” he sipped his water. “She pretended she was drinking bourbon and ginger ale to throw everyone off the scent she was…” he chuckled quietly and you’d be damned if you’d figured him out. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “I understand if you’re just not drinking tonight.”

And while your family was aware of your news, Bradley had sworn not to tell his friends just yet. You weren’t ready to be looked in on 24/7 by overzealous Navy pilots.

“Nearly four months,” you said quietly.

“Phoenix guessed a little less,” he winked. “I won’t tell, but I’m very happy for you both. This baby will be so loved. Or smothered,” he shrugged playfully. “One of the two.”

“Bob?”

“Yes, ma’am?” He responded as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“This is how you do it, isn’t it?”

“Do what?” He played dumb.

“Find women. Because you watch and listen.” And suddenly it all made such sense as he blushed, toying with his glass.

“I can’t reveal all my trade secrets, but showing a little interest helps,” he admitted.

“I wanna know all your tricks. You’re absolutely fascinating to me.”

And for the first time, you heard Bob Floyd cackle as he nodded. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but that’s never gonna happen.”

"You're getting deployed?" you look at Bradley, eyes wild, six months of baby belly between you. His head fell back.

"I know."

"You know?" you screeched, spoiled for months of your husband home and he finds himself deployed as you enter your final trimester. "Bradley, you'll be away for the birth of your daughter."

"I know..." he said a little meeker. He was sick about this conversation. Sick.

"Did you not put in the leave paperwork?"

"Of course I did. Baby, this classification is my first real role as team leader. As command.”

"Who's going with you?"

"Payback, Fanboy," he confirmed softly.

“Will you be home for Christmas?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he stepped towards you, his large palms sinking into the round belly under his grasp, tickling the stretching skin. You sighed and collapsed into his hold. “Even if I have to jump overboard and swim back myself, I will be here for Christmas. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m just scared. The birth is one thing… but I can’t raise a baby in my own,” you said, the fear in your evident.

“And I’d never let you,” he whispered into your hair.

"If you see one ounce of action, I swear to you, don't dare come home."

He nodded. Dear God, he knew. The most danger Bradley Bradshaw had ever been in was at this moment. And as his baby girl kicked him from her little cocoon in retaliation for making her Mama wild, he knew that nothing g else mattered anymore and that someway, somehow he was going to find a way to be home for his girls.

masterlist.

[penkura]

Dream by the Fire

Summary: After a day out in the snow, you and Ace have a moment to yourselves about the coming year.

Note: I miss Ace every day. :( Sorry this one is a little short, I just got caught up with thinking about Ace and busy with stuff lately

“I’m never letting you convince me to stay outside that long again!”

Laughing, Ace shakes his head and throws a blanket over your shoulders, rubbing your arms to help warm you back up. You knew it would be a long say outside in the snow when you got up that morning, Ace runs hot all the time and acted like nothing bothered him the whole day. He’d gotten you to have a snowball fight, make snow angels, and make a snowman with him, that now stands in front of your apartment, and it took so long you didn’t realize it was mid-afternoon until Ace mentioned it. You didn’t notice how cold you were until you stepped back into your apartment, now swearing to Ace he’s never taking you out into the snow like that again.

“Come on, you had fun!” Ace keeps a grin while you curse him under your breath, “It wasn’t that cold.”

“Says the walking furnace.”

“Awww, but you like it!”

Ace hugs you tight which makes you roll your eyes with a sigh. He’s right, when it’s cold like this, you do like that he runs warmer than you do, it only really becomes a problem at night in the summers. The number of times you’ve had to push him off you only for Ace to roll back on top of you has made you consider separate beds during the hotter months.

You don’t mind it much once Ace has you seated by him on your couch, hugging you close under a blanket with hot cocoa, a fire going, and a show on TV. You feel warmer already and remember how much you love these moments, just relaxing with Ace and warming up after being out into the cold for hours. You’re waiting on your lunch to delivered and don’t even want to think about getting out from under the blanket once it arrives.

“Mm, this is better…” You snuggle close to Ace and he tightens his arms around your shoulders, letting you lay your head on his shoulder, “I’d rather stay inside with you than be out in the cold.”

“I feel the same way, so long as I can keep you warm~”

You’ll accept the cold months and being dragged out into the snow, the summer nights where you feel like your melting, and your more comfortable days during the other months if it means you and Ace can stay together like this. You know you’ll have to go back out when Luffy and Sabo come over later, which means you’ll be freezing again, but it also means more comfortable cuddling time with Ace afterwards and into bedtime.

You know Ace loves it too, he loves every moment he gets to spend with just you. His brothers mean everything to him, but the time he gets to be with just the two of you brings him so much happiness. He hopes you can stay like this forever, or at least until the delivery person comes with your food.

Ace has thought so much about your future and the things to come, he can’t help but voice his thoughts to you sometimes. A house of your own with a dog or cat, maybe both! You’ll get to decorate for the holidays, Luffy and Sabo can come over more often, you wouldn’t have to worry about neighbors making noise on the other side of the wall or above you. Maybe you could have kids one day, he might like seeing a mini you running around your yard someday. Either way, he’ll be glad for whatever future you end up with.

He'll continue to dream of your future and what comes next even when you finally pass out leaned against him under the blanket later that day.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for lottie behind the cut; “a pocketful of Kons”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Star chirps encouragingly at Stud and starts to glow with solar light again, and Stud peeks up hesitantly over Tim’s shoulder for a moment, looking–uncomfortable, somehow, but almost immediately dives back down at the sight of Charger still in close with Flash. Admittedly, the “whole-ass adult” thing is weird and uncomfortable, but Stud hasn’t been acting concerned about that so far, and previous behavior indicates that it’s more likely that Charger trying to engage with him was what made him nervous. Which is, again, not something Tim understands coming from the incorrigible flirt of a soulmate he apparently has, but still seems like the likelier cause of Stud’s reaction all the same. 

He’d really prefer his soulmate were more concerned about the age difference issue, considering, but apparently that’s not a thing.

So he's not sure how he feels about that, considering.

Charger coos in Stud’s direction, and Saffie and Singsong both make little cooing noises of their own, and Tim only just manages to repress the frown this time. They sound like they’re trying to coax out a skittery pet or a shy kid, not . . . 

Stud peers back up over Tim’s shoulder, still hesitant but a little less uncomfortable-looking this time, and Charger makes an encouraging noise and holds her arms open. Stud stares at her for a second, then bolts the distance between them and wraps himself around her. Given he’s Superman-sized and she’s Linda Park-sized–comparatively, anyway–it looks kind of ridiculous, but Tim’s just not gonna comment on that. 

Charger squeaks smugly, wrapping her arms around Stud in return and reaching up to ruffle his hair, and then chitters impatiently back towards the table. Saffie bursts into violet light and snatches up Singsong, and the two of them fly over together to pile on top of Flash’s shoulder and clutter it up. 

“Okay, sure, guess I’m the Pocket party place right now,” Flash says with a snort. Star very clearly decides that counts as an invite, because she chirps excitedly and immediately scoops up Cat to fly over with her too. She doesn’t try to bring Red along, but Red does not appreciate flying Air Star, so Tim’s not surprised by that one. 

That is a lot of Pockets all jostling for position on the very limited real estate of Flash’s shoulder right now, though. 

“That was a joke, oh my god,” Flash groans, leaning his head to one side to keep out of the Pockets’ way and half-lifting his hands as he very obviously attempts to figure out how to keep any of them from falling off him while also mostly-smothered in them. “Nightwing, oh my god help.” 

“Naw, looks like you got it, party place,” Dick replies with a snicker, and Flash shoots him a very accusing look. 

“Oh, he thinks he’s funny,” he says. “Listen, buddy, let’s see how you–” 

Dick cuts him off as brutally as possible, meaning he cuts him off by holding up Red to be annexed into the Pocket-pile on his shoulder, smiling blithely the whole time. The other Pockets all cheer excitedly and envelope her into their tiny crowd, chair and all. Flash shoots Dick a very accusing glare this time, which as an expression is a little bit undercut by Star sitting half-on his head and Singsong balancing herself with an arm around one of the lightning bolts on his cowl and dragging it down an inch or so to one side, mask and all. 

“Not sorry,” Dick says just as blithely. 

“You should be,” Flash says witheringly. 

“Mmmmm, naw, not feelin’ it,” Dick replies with an easy shrug, then flashes him a teasing grin. “Anyway, you’re doing great, man, you haven’t dropped anybody!” 

. . . actually, Tim thinks belatedly, that’s . . . weird, isn’t it. Dick isn’t really looking at the Pockets’ positions as he says that, but he is, and Cat and Red are both way too precariously-balanced to actually be managing the perches that they’re sitting in–and Cat might like to take risks, but Red isn’t interested in wasting time on impracticality. And Saffie barely looks like she’s even standing on Flash’s shoulder at all, but also looks like she isn’t using her ring at all. 

So . . . what the hell, exactly? 

“I’m going to drop specifically Star and Red, actually–” Flash starts to threaten, and then hisses through his teeth as Red leans back in her chair just enough to jab her elbow right into the pulse point in his throat. “Ow.” 

“You deserved that,” Dick informs him, still grinning at him and entirely unsympathetic. 

“Yeah, I did,” Flash sighs resignedly, and then the door opens again and Captain Marvel leans into the room, looking really confused. 

“Flash, Green Lantern says–” Captain Marvel starts to blurt, then sees the currently-present Green Lantern at the table, also sees Dick and Tim, and then rephrases with–“not-this-Green-Lantern says he needs you down in meeting room 4. Um, Max Mercury called, there’s something, uh, kinda . . . weird going on with Impulse, I guess? Like, important-weird?” 

“That friggin’ kid always has the worst timing, I swear,” Flash says in exasperation, half-covering his face with a hand. The pile of Pockets on his shoulder rearranges itself a little for probably balance or comfort reasons, and Captain Marvel glances towards them and then–blinks, and looks puzzled. 

“Oh, they’re already here?” he asks in surprise, then looks around the room and frowns. “Or . . . not?” 

“What?” Flash asks blankly, and Captain Marvel points at his shoulder. 

“That’s Impulse’s Pocket, isn’t it?” he asks, and everyone in the room . . . pauses. “So where’s he?”

[vaguely-concerned]

so for obvious reasons, rye is not generally all that popular with most of the senior watchers. however. I think there is a certain type of younger watcher to whom he is The ultimate hot badboy icon and fantasy. (we're talking about a group of extreme indoor kid goth nerds who've barely been outside. it doesn't take a lot ot achieve bad boy status in this context and the only thing in this world that lasts forever is a bad reputation in a small insular group like the watchers.) it's SO funny because rye thinks of himself as such a disappointing fuckup of a son of the grand necropolis. and meanwhile there are novices kicking their feet and giggling as they're like

'Ingellvar is so cool. no one knows where he's from he was found down here as a baby. mysterious orphan appeal. he could be a secret dalish prince or something for all we know. (*annoyed extra nerd watcher novice voice*: umm actually the dalish don't have princes, merrivar?? read a real book sometime maybe???) he's a rebel. he doesn't care what the senior watchers think no time for politics he just gets the job done. (*small sad rye voice* I care a lot what the senior watchers think actually. a pathetic amount, in fact. it just rarely seems like it helps anything at all) I heard he graduated almost top of his class even though he spent all his time as a student partying up in the city and having a torrid affair with the son of a noble family. sometimes in his spare time he wears a cool punk leather jacket but like the fantasy version of that. he has tattoos apparently but no one's seen them for years. yuh-uh it's true too, I know someone who knows someone he dated once. they say he saw a knife fight once. like, in a bar brawl, with living people. all that, and he's even sneakily emotionally unavailable. *starry-eyed sigh* what a dreamboat'.

needless to say this only grows worse with the events of the game, after he takes out the formless one and rumours start to spread that he maybe killed a god or something too???? and this being nevarra, more importantly he's out there killing dragons with his sworn companions?? like a fucking fairytale prince but with that devil-may-care rebellious streak???? he's the safely unavailable first crush at a distance of many a young watcher. now imagine the reaction when he shows up home for the first time in a year after the war of the banners accompanied by The one true bad boy fantasy to rule them all: literally the sad brooding crown prince of the crows of antiva in leather pants who has WINGS and a dark tortured side of his nature that he has to constantly battle against for the sake of those he loves.

(the perception vs. reality situation for both of these characterizations is. so unspeakably hilarious needless to say. consider how much of the above lucanis characterization is accurate to the person he actually is and then you've basically found the level of distortion lens being applied to rye as well. is most of it technically true? sure. 'technically' is having to do a whole world of heavy lifting there tho fhdfska)

what I'm really saying here is that there is a subsection of this group that's been ferociously writing rye/lucanis rpf from the moment they were seen trotting down into the necropolis depths together (other pairings within the lighthouse gang as a whole, caught in tantalizing glimpses as they visit the necropolis, of course having their own devotees), and when this fandom subgroup eventually discover they were right it's with all the insane glee of a sixteen year old fanfic writer on wattpad (is that still where the kids are these days. idk i'm getting old folks) finding out that their dark mafia prince AU is basically true. varric might be gone but the legacy of friendfiction lives on after him. the king of thedas rpf being the shoulders of titans that young watchers are standing on to write fevered WILDLY inaccurate depictions of the private life of two of the most low-key domestic quietly devoted and undramatic people on the continent, one of them being varric's own poor little meow meow slash mentee, is something that can actually be so personal. rye does not end up terribly famous in the end considering the shit he manages to get done in this game, and he thanks his lucky stars for it. but to a tight-knit community of mourn watch fic writers he is blorbo from my apocalypse. it's all I could have wished for him.

(funniest possible outcome of all this: myrna gets so fucking tired of trying to understand what the novices are being so tittery about that she asks rye 'watcher ingellvar with the realization that this is a long shot and the admission that vorgoth and I have exhausted all other avenues of investigation: do you possess secret insight about what an 'x reader' is. and also 'ship war'. your name seems to come up in this context a surprising amount'. 9000000 points of incoming psychic damage about to hit the fan.)

[thevoidstaredback]

Just as he had last time, Barry called Wally and Bart to help him comb over the US. He took the Midwest and South; Wally took the Mid Atlantic and New England areas; Bart took Alaska, the Western, and Southwestern states.

"Didn't this happen in your timeline, Impulse?" Wally asked.

"Nope!" Bart answered, "At least I don't think so."

"What do you mean you don't think so?"

"You expect me to know everything that happened throughout the entire timeline?!"

"A little bit, yeah!"

"Boys!" Barry cut in, "Please focus; time is a little bit of the essence."

"No, no, no," Superboy, who was checking the Northern Hemisphere, chimed, "Let 'em argue. It's entertaining."

"Are you sure you don't remember anything from the previous loops?" Superman asked, speaking over the three kid heroes.

Barry found himself rolling his eyes. "Yes, Supes. I'd've told you by now if I remembered-" He stopped short, sliding down the road a few feet.

"Flash?"

"Hold that thought."

"Did you find something?"

"Keep looking; I'm gonna check something real quick." He muted his end of the line. "What in the world..?"

Apparently, there's a castle in Wisconsin.

***

Dick was not having a good time. He thought that he was done dealing with Bruce when he quit! But, no! The bastard just keeps calling!

At least he can still work with Barbara. That's a plus.

Nightwing set up shop in Bludhaven. This was well established throughout not only the city itself, but throughout Gotham and the entire hero community. Sure, he helps out other places, but he mostly stays in Bludhaven. Just because he's close, though, means that Bruce thinks he can jump between the two cities.

He can, but he doesn't want to.

But, orders from Batman must be followed or he'll throw a fit.

How the hell did he put up working with that man?

How the hell does Tim put up with it?

Even in the middle of a potentially Word Ending Crisis, Batman doesn't want any of the other heroes in Gotham, so searching the city falls to Nightwing and Batgirl. Well, it would if she didn't have her own tasks.

He'd seen Kid Flash in passing about an hour ago, just long enough for a speedster-level high-five as they passed by, as he was leaving Bludhaven.

He'd searched his home from top to bottom three times over and there wasn't a single thing out of place there. The US Government had all but abandoned the city when they'd given up on Gotham, so the lack of any government occupation didn't surprise him in the slightest. The people of Bludhaven hated the government enough that a few well placed words on his part now had the entire city on the lookout for the black suited bastards, allowing him to go look in Gotham.

As much as Gothamites hated authority figures, they had nothing on Bludhaven. Sure, they'd been given up on first, but the government still had eyes on the city because of Batman. As long as Batman works for the Justice League, then it isn't a stretch to think that the government has eyes and ears on or in the city.

Finding a base in Gotham will be much harder than finding one in Bludhaven. Not because he doesn't know his way around, but because of the sheer amount of buildings there are. Abandoned, occupied, business, residential, it doesn't matter; every one of them is a potential government occupation camp until proven otherwise. Every person found within the city is a possible government dog until proven otherwise.

Dick sighs. He certainly has his work cut out for him.

Part 7 Part 9

[nitrateglow]

Favorite films discovered in 2024

This year, I focused more on rewatching films I hadn't seen in a long time rather than racking up new titles. However, I still encountered plenty of new faves, many of them movies that have been on my watchlist for years. Here are the top twenty.

But first, some interesting patterns in this year's list...

Most represented decade: 1960s

Earliest film represented: 1932

Newest film represented: 1999

Creatives who show up more than once: Robert Mulligan, Walter Matthau, Boris Karloff

The Window (dir. Ted Tetzlaff, 1949)

A young boy (Bobby Driscoll) living in a squalid NYC apartment building witnesses his neighbors (Paul Stewart and Ruth Roman) committing a murder. Unfortunately, the kid's penchant for tall tales prevent anyone from believing him-- except for the killers, eager to alleviate themselves of an inconvenient witness.

Precious few thrillers earn the moniker “Hitchcockian” as well as this intense little gem from RKO. The Hitchcock vibes make sense when you consider Hitchcock’s cinematographer from Notorious was in the director’s chair and the source material was written by Cornell Woolrich, also responsible for the short story behind Rear Window. Augmented by on-location photography of New York City and a grimy, desolate sense of urban decay, The Window is both a great suspense yarn and classic film noir. Despite having a kid for a lead character, the film pulls no punches: both its small-time crook villains and the city setting feel palpably dangerous.

My Neighbors the Yamadas (dir. Isao Takahata, 1999)

The Yamadas, an average middle-class Japanese family, navigate the perils of sharing a television set, a kid going missing during a shopping trip, awkward wedding speeches, and other misadventures.

Between the original Studio Ghibli directorial duo of Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata, Miyazaki will always be the more popular filmmaker, but I think Takahata’s films are more intellectually and emotionally rewarding. This is not meant as a hit on Miyazaki’s undeniable greatness, but Takahata’s movies are far more challenging. That being said, My Neighbors the Yamadas is a lighter entry in his filmography, a slice of life comedy about the eponymous family and their shenanigans in modern Japan. However, beneath the whimsical humor runs an undercurrent of melancholy, an awareness of the transience of life in both its lovely and absurd moments. To date, it gets my vote for the most underrated Ghibli film.

A New Leaf (dir. Elaine May, 1971)

After squandering his ample inheritance, a middle-aged New York layabout (Walter Matthau) decides to marry an eccentric botanist (Elaine May) for her money then murder her ASAP.

Elaine May only directed a few films, but the two I’ve seen—this and the long-maligned Ishtar—were a lot of fun. A New Leaf is the better film though, far more focused and consistently funny. I don't usually belly laugh when watching a movie at home alone, but I did several times here. Even just thinking about some of the things that happen in this film can make me start laughing again. I understand the existing version was not May’s preferred cut and she felt it was butchered by the studio. Even so, this is a great movie regardless of that and one I really want to rewatch soon.

Cash on Demand (dir. Quentin Lawrence, 1961)

Uptight, unpleasant bank manager Harry Fordyce (Peter Cushing) is the boss from hell to his employees, but to criminal extraordinaire Gore Hepburn (Andre Morrel), he's the key to a successful heist. Posing as an insurance representative to get access to Fordyce's office, Hepburn tells the manager he's holding his wife and child, whose lives will be forfeit if he doesn't help him relieve the bank of ninety thousand pounds.

Ho, ho, ho, guess who's got a new Christmas classic to enjoy every year? Cash on Demand is not only a strangely enervating riff on A Christmas Carol's basic set-up (a miserable man is spiritually redeemed through an encounter with ghosts-- or in this case, bank robbers), but it's one of the best, tightest one-location thrillers I have ever seen. I genuinely had no idea where the story was going and found myself in absolute agony as the noose grew tighter around our protagonist's neck. It's a testament to both the writing and Peter Cushing's detailed, very human performance that this film is the emotionally powerful piece of work that it is, and not just a fun, clockwork heist yarn.

Letter from an Unknown Woman (dir. Max Ophuls, 1948)

While trying to evade a duel, an aging playboy (Louis Jordan) receives a letter from a dying woman (Joan Fontaine) who claims he was the love of her life. The letter recounts the details of their love affair, which was the centerpiece of this woman's life and only a mere erotic interlude in his.

The best way to describe this movie is lush romantic melodrama married to a bitter, emotionally brutal tale of a life wasted. The movie is heartbreaking but beautifully shot and performed. I’m not always the biggest fan of Fontaine, but she is fantastic here. Also, I need to watch more Max Ophuls.

Sudden Fear (dir. David Miller, 1952)

A middle-aged playwright (Joan Crawford) thinks she’s found love with a would-be matinee idol (Jack Palance)—instead she realizes she’s being targeted by her new hubby, who only wants her wealth. But he mistakes her emotional vulnerability for a lack of discernment—and a lack of desire to get even.

I like my women-in-peril thrillers when they feature clever heroines driven to survive whatever nightmare their antagonists throw at them and Sudden Fear is amazing in this regard. I know everyone loves Joan Crawford best in Mildred Pierce, but I was floored by her performance here, especially in the dialogue-free scenes. There are campy moments (which I adore), but the story is emotionally compelling and I not only wanted Joan's character to survive, but to thrive post-shitty marriage.

Thieves Like Us (dir. Robert Altman, 1974)

Young lovers Bowie (Keith Carradine) and Keechie (Shelley Duvall) yearn for a white picket fence, a quiet porch, and a case of Cokes (probably because that's all they drink in this film). Too bad Bowie is an escaped convict tied up with bank robbers. Too bad it's the Great Depression. At least there's plenty Coke. Want a Coke?

Most films set in the past do not as painstakingly recreate bygone worlds as strongly as Thieves Like Us. Set in Depression era Mississippi, this film captures the harsh, bleak reality and romantic, consumerist fantasies of its star-cross’d leads, played with sensuous naivete by Keith Carradine and the late, great Shelley Duvall. This is more than just yet another Bonnie and Clyde riff—it’s a tragedy about the elusive American Dream, with snippets of radio music, programs, and ads acting as a Greek chorus in a truly inspired touch. Robert Altman can be an acquired taste, but this is easily my favorite of his films to date.

Targets (dir. Peter Bogdanovich, 1968)

The paths of an aging horror star (Boris Karloff) and a psychotic mass shooter (Tim O'Kelly) cross at a drive-in theater.

Targets was not what I expected: it's a threeway character study between the disheartened horror star, the psychotic shooter, and 1960s America itself. To be honest, you could remake this movie now with a former ‘80s slasher star making the same musings and it would still seem credible—but then of course, you wouldn’t have Karloff in one of the best performances of his career. Targets is rendered even more chilling by its docudrama style. The violence shown isn’t sensationalistic, but presented in clinical detail, making it feel more authentic. Gorier films haven’t frightened me as much as this slow-burn character study.

Losing Ground (dir. Kathleen Collins, 1982)

Despite finding pleasure in research and theory, philosophy professor Sara Rogers (Seret Scott) envies the escatic nature of her painter husband, Victor (Bill Gunn). Their difference in temperaments and Victor's adulterous straying also strain the marriage. However, once Sara takes a job performing a sensuous, emotional role in a student film to get in touch with her own artistic side, Victor grows suspicious and jealous in turn.

Losing Ground was sold to me as a film about a crumbling marriage, but it's more than that. It might be more accurate to call it a portrait of self-discovery, a woman extending beyond her comfort zone to live more fully. I found myself strongly relating to Sara-- like her, I have a creative side I've often been timid to share, being more comfortable with the mind than the body. Being an independent film, it eschews the Hollywood histrionics and melodrama that would normally accompany this subject matter and it's paced perfectly at 90 minutes. Though filmed in the early '80s, the film only played the film festival circuit and never enjoyed a proper theatrical release. Only in 2015 was it rediscovered and then released on home video. The director Kathleen Collins died young, but this film stands a testament to her passion and talent.

Cactus Flower (dir. Gene Saks, 1969)

A middle-aged dentist (Walter Matthau) who poses as a married man to fend off romantic commitment decides to buckle down and wed his much younger girlfriend (Goldie Hawn, looking like a mod Tinker Bell). However, when she insists on speaking with his made-up wife, he recruits his no-nonsense nurse (Ingrid Bergman) into the charade.

Cactus Flower is what I often call a transitional film: released in the late ‘60s, it has one foot in the classical style of Old Hollywood and another in the more liberated counterculture that was shooting out hits like Easy Rider and The Graduate. Directed with unexciting competence by Gene Saks, Cactus Flower’s success largely comes from Ingrid Bergman, Goldie Hawn, and Jack Weston. Bergman I could watch in anything, so I’m biased perhaps, but she walks the fine line between funny and touching as the lonely woman who finds emotional liberation through her roleplaying. The scene where she gets groovy on the dance floor is a highlight of her entire screen career and no, I AM NOT KIDDING.

The Black Room (dir. Roy William Neill, 1935)

Two aristocratic brothers (both Boris Karloff) are at odds over the love of a young woman (Marian Marsh) and an ancient prophecy forecasting the end of their bloodline.

Boris Karloff dives into a double role in this deliciously gothic melodrama. Columbia pulled out all the stops for this one: it drips with sumptuous set design and expressionistic lighting. I was particularly taken by this film’s slightly tongue-in-cheek approach to a more 18th century mode of gothic terror. It goes for full-blooded melodrama with its innocent maidens, secret dungeons, lecherous villain, and ancient curses. It’s as close to a 1930s Castle of Otranto adaptation as we’ve got and by God, I'm grateful for its existence.

Freud: The Secret Passion (dir. John Huston, 1962)

In the late 1880s, young psychiatrist Sigmund Freud (Montgomery Clift) probes into the inner lives of his "hysterical" patients to discover the roots of their mental illnesses. However, these journeys into the subconscious worlds of others bring him into uncomfortable contact with his own demons.

Listening to a podcast episode on John Houston’s Key Largo led me to works of his I hadn’t heard of, such as Freud. I was initially skeptical it could be good. Biopics are my least favorite genre, but this film isn’t so much a biopic as a psychological drama in which Freud is the protagonist and some of his ideas are illustrated through his interactions with the other characters. Instead of wasting time being some melodrama ABOUT Freud the man (the route most biopics go regarding their subjects), it’s about his theories and philosophy, which is a far more interesting approach. The result is a probing, intellectual work. I’m not sure how close Montgomery Clift’s characterization is to the real Freud, but the real star of the show is Houston’s direction, a resurrection of German expressionist aesthetics blended with stark realism.

Paris is Burning (dir. Jennie Livingston, 1990)

This documentary covers 1980s NYC ball culture, where Black and Latino members of the LGBT+ community vogue and perform.

Documentaries are not usually my thing, but Paris is Burning was a longtime resident of my watchlist and I am glad I finally got around to seeing it. It has a time capsule quality, capturing a long-vanished 1980s New York City and the LGBT+ community living there at the time. Obviously, there is a lot of meditation on gender identity, sexuality, and the importance of community in a world hostile to your very existence, but I was also interested by the film's presentation of the materialism and consumption of the Reagan era.

Candyman (dir. Bernard Rose, 1992)

A graduate student (Virginia Madsen) studying urban myths unwittingly summons the Candyman (Tony Todd), the hook-handed ghost of a Black painter who was lynched decades ago.

I expected fun slasher nonsense and instead got a gorgeous, unsettling, modern gothic masterpiece that only occasionally dips its toes into schlock. Candyman is ethereal in all the right ways despite being suffused with despairing urban gloom. I was not surprised to find the script was adapted from a Clive Barker story—like Barker’s The Hellbound Heart (adapted into the Hellraiser films), Candyman is chilling yet eerily beautiful. The moment I finished watching it, I knew this was one I would be itching to revisit. There’s just so much going on regarding race, class, and memory in America. Also, Tony Todd’s voice is a damn treasure.

Merrily We Go to Hell (dir. Dorothy Arzner, 1932)

An alcoholic playwright (Frederic March) and his long-suffering wife (Sylvia Sidney) decide to have an open marriage. It doesn't work out well for either of them.

Merrily We Go to Hell is a sneaky piece of work. Reading the synopsis, one expects the usual salacious pre-code melodrama. The first scenes even resemble your usual romantic comedy, with our central couple having a meet-cute. The actual movie is much more complicated. It's about a married couple thinking love is enough to make their union work despite the husband's alcoholism. However, this idea proves erroneous and attempts to numb the pain through hedonism and extramarital vengeance just pour gasoline on the fire. The emotional honesty here is astonishing and even the "happy ending" isn't so uncomplicated when you think about it. So far, this is my favorite film of director Dorothy Arzner.

Up the Down Staircase (dir. Robert Mulligan, 1967)

An idealistic young teacher (Sandy Dennis) gets her first position at an inner-city high school. However, she finds her enthusiasm worn down by the school system's bureaucracy and the many psychological troubles of her students and fellow faculty.

Ever since I watched Four Seasons a few years ago, I’ve been intrigued by Sandy Dennis. No matter the role, I find her eccentric yet vulnerable screen presence compelling. Up the Down Staircase was Dennis’ first starring vehicle and an unsentimental look at the teaching profession. Having worked as a teacher and in similar jobs in the past, I related strongly to the main character’s compassion fatigue and her frustrated desire to help make her community a better place. While not a cheery film, it is ultimately an optimistic one, even if that optimism is cautious. And of course, Dennis is damn great as always, whetting my appetite for more of her work.

They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? (dir. Sydney Pollack, 1969)

In the thick of the Great Depression, a group of desperate contestants sign up for a grueling dance marathon with a hefty cash prize. Greed, sexual exploitation, health problems, and crushing despair eventually complicate the exhibition.

This movie is so bleak you’ll be just as exhausted as the characters by the tragic finish. I know that doesn’t sound like much of a recommendation, but this is powerful stuff. It does what a great tragedy should do: make you emphasize with the characters and go out into the world more empathetic toward the people around you and more critical of a society in which such awful conditions could be permitted. And like Targets, it’s depressing that this movie’s themes remain relevant to American culture.

Flash Gordon (dir. Frederick Stephani and Ray Taylor, 1936)

A himbo polo player (Buster Crabbe), a middle-aged scientist in hot pants (Frank Shannon), and an ingenue in a blonde wig (Jean Rogers) must save the Earth from a galactic emperor.

Yes, I’m counting a film serial as a single unit on this list. In this corny, breathless saga can be found the seeds of so many modern blockbuster spectacles. The old school space opera aesthetic is always a joy and I love seeing what George Lucas borrowed from the comic book plot and fantastic images for his Star Wars films. Also, the serial is surprisingly horny for a product released after the death knell of the pre-code era, so that’s fascinating too. I watched the episodes, one a night, usually before a feature film, to recreate at least in part the conditions in which old serials were viewed. I highly recommend that approach if you're interested in watching these kind of films-- NEVER binge them.

Silkwood (dir. Mike Nichols, 1983)

Karen Silkwood (Meryl Streep), a union activist and metallurgy worker at a plutonium processing plant, discovers both she and many of her co-workers have been contaminated with high levels of radiation due to blatant safety violations. Rather than remedy the problem, her employers are determined to keep her quiet, but Karen refuses to back down.

Meryl Streep's performance in Silkwood finally showed me what all the hype around her is about. What an astonishing, natural performance-- I forgot I was watching an actor every moment. As for the overall film, it's one of the stronger docudramas out there (as this film was based on a true story). It isn't just a preachy message piece and it allows Silkwood to be both a heroic figure and a flesh and blood human being with flaws like anyone. The domestic drama involving her lover (Kurt Russell) and lesbian roommate (Cher, who also gives an incredible performance) is almost as compelling as the main story. Though released in the early '80s, it feels like a late manifestation of the paranoia thriller genre of the decade before.

Love with the Proper Stranger (dir. Robert Mulligan, 1963)

When a one-night stand with a jazz musician (Steve McQueen) leaves her pregnant and at risk of upsetting her very Catholic family, an innocent sales clerk (Natalie Wood) tracks down her lover and demands he help her get an abortion.

Love with the Proper Stranger is such a unique piece of work that I can forgive the elements that dissatisfy me (like the ending). Wood and McQueen's romance starts out acidic and slowly becomes tender over the course of their bizarre misadventure, and the film itself shifts through several moods. Sometimes it feels like an urban drama, other times a romantic comedy. But it somehow holds together, perhaps because of the chemistry between the lead actors.

What were your favorite film discoveries in 2024?

[edgy-ella]

SONIC 3 WAS SO GOOD!!!

Extended thoughts below:

The action scenes are by far the best they’ve ever been in the whole series. They’ve really improved how they visually represent Sonic’s speed. The only exception is the gravity scene at GUN HQ, which I think dragged on a little too long and overall wasn’t as impactful as, say, fighting a GUN mech with those same gravity abilities would’ve been.

Keanu is ok as Shadow. If you’ve seen the trailers, that’s about the level he keeps it at for the whole movie. I think I would’ve been more sold on him if he gave a bigger “MARIA!!” when she died.

In the first act, I felt like the movie was kind of on autopilot. Things just kind of happened without a ton of buildup, and the script kind of lacked flavor for the expository scenes. For example: when Sonic asks Olive Garden Guy™ about Shadow, he just starts expositing Shadow’s lore without anything like “this information is top secret, tell no one else about this” or “it’s painful to think about…I wish I could just act like it never happened” or even Sonic questioning how/why Shadow came from a meteorite. Just lore exposition without flavor from the rest of the cast. Throughout the movie, the dialogue felt very on the nose. I wish it was a little more subtle, but it’s a kids movie I get it.

On that note, the movie feels like it just has a checklist of SA2 iconography they had to tick off rather than more naturally integrating that kind of stuff into the plot. For the larger story it works well, like with Shadow and Maria, but stuff like the Chao Garden and “talk about a low budget flight!” just kind of felt…tacked on. In the moment it’s fine because I’m too busy aggressively pointing at the screen, but for someone not as invested in the series as I am, it feels a little random and clunky.

The movie really kicks up when Shadow starts having Maria flashbacks. The little montage they have with them together was so good. The cold cut to the record player stopping was so well done.

In retrospect, when just looking at this movie and not the rest of the franchise, I think Maria and Gerald’s relationship could’ve had some more focus. They never mention anything about Maria being sick in the movie, so it’s not clear why she’s there at the research station to begin with. That being said, Gerald telling Ivo “you’re no Maria” towards the end was gut wrenching. My theater audibly ooh’d.

@allshaftsfall and I were betting that the reason Gerald is still alive would’ve been through time travel shenanigans (which would set up the next movie), but, bizarrely enough, it just seems like Gerald is genuinely that old. He mentions he’s 110. But…how? Did he just survive that long? Did he use Shadow’s quill to expand his lifespan? It’s never explained.

I’m glad they had Knuckles and Tails continue to be proactive and do things instead of just being relegated to cheerleaders and/or comic relief. Knuckles in particular wound up hard carrying Sonic and Tails through most of the action setpieces.

There’s a scene where Tails talks to Agent Stone about being Sonic’s friend and not his assistant like Stone thinks he is, and Tails asks Stone “aren’t you and Eggman best friends too?” Stone replies verily sorrowfully “yeah…friends. Totally friends.” I know it’s meant to read as Stone wishing Eggman treated him better but I could not see it as anything other than Stone thinking “he’s my lover!” but thinking he can’t say that to Tails bc he thinks Tails is homophobic.

YET ANOTHER GOD DAMN CASPER REFERENCE. I cannot believe that both this and Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, my two most hyped movies of the year, both had Casper references in them. I’m losing my mind.

I am so mad they didn’t actually kill off Tom. The setup was right there. They even parallel Sonic grieving him to Shadow grieving over Maria! But noooo he survives. When will we be free of human cop dad.

DUDE. The Super Sonic/Super Shadow fight was SO FUCKING GOOD. Worth the price of admission alone.

I kinda figured Live and Learn was gonna be in the movie going in from how much everyone’s been #KnowingSmile posting about it, but honestly? I was more hyped hearing Eggman’s theme from Unleashed start playing. It was way more of a “oh my god, it’s the thing!” moment. That being said HOLY SHIT LIVE AND LEARN PEAK!!!!!! The movie’s OST had a lot more of a rock influence and I couldn’t be happier.

I have some miscellaneous “I liked this better in SA2” stuff (pissing on the moon, Shadow’s heel-face turn, etc.), but all of them I understand why the filmmakers did what they did so they’re just nitpicks.

The end credits scene is kind of insane because it’s super long. It just feels like a scene from the next movie. Metal looks a little rough, but I’m sure they’ll polish him up for the next movie. They’re probably going to lean into Amy being a magic fortune teller girl given how she shows up in a dark cloak and floats in the air. I hope she’s gonna keep the fangirl energy, but I doubt it. Very interesting choice to do multiple Metal Sonics, though, especially since Sega only likes using the one Metal Sonic rather than having different copies running around. My prediction for the next movie is that Neo Metal Sonic will be the main villain and he’s controlling all the other Metal Sonics from afar.

[sorchathered]

Snowfalls and Christmas wishes

Pairing- Rafael Barba x reader

Warnings- none, just fluff.

New York at Christmas time was easily the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. No matter how many times you ventured out in the winter it was always full of magic in a world that was woefully lacking in joy these days. Your boyfriend was a self proclaimed Scrooge, always seeing the worst of things and with his job you couldn’t blame him; but you always wished he could see it the way you did.

After the world’s longest day in the office the two of you finally stepped out into the fresh brisk air, snow lightly falling as you made your way through Central Park in search of some hot chocolate and then a nice night at home. Rafa was grumbling about the crowds and the unseasonably cold weather, and you couldn’t help but feel the need to stir the pot a little. Trailing a little behind him you scooped a handful of snow and lobbed it right at his back, the icy powder splatting against his coat and his hair. He whipped around with a scowl, his first thought that a group of kids had been the culprit; only to see you cackling behind your mittened hands nearly doubled over with glee.

“Oh Querida, you’ve messed up now. Those heels are not meant for running, and you just started a war.” He said with a grin as he launched forward and you squealed as you tried (and failed) to scurry away from him. He caught you easily, plopping the two of you in a snowbank as he grabbed a fresh handful of snow and dumped in right on top of your head. Both of you cold and flushed, you spent nearly twenty minutes chasing each other and lobbing snow. No one was the victor, but the smile on his face made you feel like a winner nonetheless.

Later that evening after changing into warm clothes and cozying up in your shared bed you ruffled his hair as he leaned in to kiss you. “Promise me that no matter how hard life gets we can try to find the little moments to be happy. I know it’s not easy, but I cherish these moments with you Rafa; I want nothing but happiness for you.” He held your gaze with soft eyes, kissing you with all the love he could pour into it, and promised to do that and more. You were his bright spot in an otherwise bleak existence, and he would hold on to that as long as life allowed.

Tagging- @honeytwrites @ryebecca @attapullman @pinguhub @arcane-vagabond @heavenssins

[tealeavesandtrash]

🎄 Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon: Part 9 - 4 Days Until Christmas 🎄

Read in full || Part 1 || Part 8 || Part 10 (coming 23rd Dec)

“How much food do you have for Christmas?” Sirius asks over breakfast. 

“Too much,” Lily says. “Enough to feed the street.”

“Okay but how much is too much?” 

“No such thing as too much!” James chimes in and Lily rolls her eyes. 

“The turkey is recommended twelve servings and we have more food than what will fit on the table.”

Sirius ponders a moment. “Okay, so hypothetically, if there were two last-minute guests, we would have enough? If one is Harry-size so that’s only half a portion.”

“Are you talking about Remus?” James asks. 

“I did not say that.”

James grins. “You are though, aren’t you? You want to spend Christmas with him!”

“I especially did not say that .”

“I thought they were spending Christmas with his parents?” Lily asks. 

“I mean, they were, but his mum’s come down with something so they can’t.”

Lily hums, “I mean I don’t see why not. We’ve got enough space for them.”

“Really?” Sirius asks, pointedly ignoring the way James is snickering at him because this doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah, you’d like to see Teddy on Christmas wouldn't you Harry?” Lily says, turning to Harry at the last part. Harry, too engaged in playing with his cereal to be paying attention, simply nods eagerly when he notices his mum has asked him a question. 

Since Lily isn’t at work at the moment, Harry doesn’t need to go to nursery which means no chance to catch Remus at drop off which means Sirius is sent into town to ask him about Christmas. 

“Why can’t you just message him?” Sirius whines as James practically kicks him out the front door. 

“Because this was your idea and that’s less romantic.”

“There’s nothing romantic about this situation! I am inviting him and his child round to his child’s best friend’s parent’s house because his holiday plans fell through!”

“Yeah but you want it to be romantic, don’t you.”

“I never said that .”

“You didn’t have to say it.”

Sirius just shoots him a glare and James’ grin softens. “It’s no bad thing if you do, Pads. He’s a decent bloke and you obviously care about him at least a little.”

“Well, even if I did it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t.”

“I think he does,” James says, suddenly very earnest. “I saw the way you two together at the fete, I’m not blind.”

Sirius lets James’ words play over in his mind as he makes his way to meet Remus. Because Sirius isn’t blind, he knows Remus is attractive - the way his lip quirks up and eyes sparkle when he laughs; or the way his brows furrow in concentration when he’s thinking or listening to Teddy explain something; or how the highlights in his messy curls catch in the light and he runs his hand through his hair. 

And okay, so maybe he does have a bit of a crush on Remus, but it’s nothing more than that. 

Remus looks up when Sirius enters the shop. He’s leaning on the counter, head resting on one hand and leaning over an open book. 

“Did you forget another present?” he asks, smirking as he raises his eyebrow. 

“Ha ha,” Sirius mutters as he sidles up to the counter. “Ye of little faith, Lupin.”

“Well, what can I help you with?”

“Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you,” Sirius counters. 

Remus holds his gaze, matching his smirk and waiting patiently for Sirius to speak. 

He swallows. “Whatcha reading?” He asks after the silence has stretched out. 

Remus flicks the book over the show the cover - a scenic painting of a forest waterfall against the backdrop of mountains, with the ‘Fellowship of the Ring’ printed boldly across the top.

“Teddy's bedtime story is currently The Hobbit,” Remus explains.

“Kid’s got good taste.”

“I mean, he only picked it because our copy at home has a dragon on the cover.”

Sirius shrugs. “Valid reason, dragons are cool.”

Remus hums in agreement. He dogears the page and closes the book to give Sirius his full attention. “So,” he says 

“So,” Sirius repeats,  “Christmas.”

“Christmas?”

“Well, since you're not seeing your parents, you could spend it with us, if you wanted.”

Remus blinks at him, “I wouldn’t want to impose or anything.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. There’s more than enough space and food for both of you.”

Remus still looks a little hesitant, “I mean, if you want me there.”

“I want you there,” Sirius insists. “And so does James and Lily.”

A shy smile slowly breaks onto Remus’ face, one Sirius can’t help but mirror.

Read in full || Part 1 || Part 8 || Part 10 (coming 23rd Dec)

@annaliza999 @marigold-hills @veganbutterchicken (If you do/dont want to be tagged in the next parts lmk <3)

[fandombymanynames]

some season 7 thoughts mostly focusing around the disaster that was Runaan's second trip to Katolis...

buckle up lads, it's gonna be a long one

First of all, do i think Ezran was wrong for locking up Runaan?

absolutely not

This kid just had his entire kingdom burn down and is now staring at the man who killed his dad seemingly but that's another matter. He's allowed to be pissed, and he's well within his rights to arrest Runaan. I was honestly shocked he was the ONLY one acting upset. I thought for sure the second Soren saw Runaan that he'd be drawing steel, since if I remember correctly (and i could totally be wrong, it's been a while since i watched it thru from the beginning, so have mercy), Soren actually fought Runaan while trying to defend Harrow??

So Ezran's actions are not what bother me about the whole plot point. What bothers me is that this is only happening now??? Like, I'm not even convinced Ezran fully knew who Runaan was other than the assassin that killed his dad. Did Rayla ever tell him that's her dad and I just forgot? Did Callum ever tell him 'hey we're trying to free Rayla's dad (the man that killed our dad) from his coin prison that Viren put him in, just a heads up so you can digest that'? That seems like a massive thing to just spring on a person when you've been planning it for several seasons at this point. Couldn't have written him a letter even... smh

And then on top of that...they bring Runaan to Katolis like absolute dumbasses. Like if you're not going to have the decency to warn your brother that you're planning to break Rayla's dad out of coin jail, the least you could do is just let Ezran keep his blissful ignorance and peace on the matter. It was just an objectively stupid move from all three of them (Callum, Rayla, and yes Runaan himself like wait outside my dude). As the saying goes, play stupid games win stupid prizes. Naturally you bring the guy who killed the king to the kingdom...he's gonna get thrown in jail, and it was all perfectly avoidable if they rubbed even two brain cells together.

okay maybe that was a little mean, but it was a stupid thing to do and i hope we can all agree on that.

but it's what happened so we move on to the next domino in this disaster: rayla breaking runaan out.

Was I all for it?

Yes. Let me be very clear, Runaan is my favorite and he and Ethari's reunion was literally the only thing i cared about this season

Was it ALSO a stupid as hell thing to do?

YES

Like you didn't even wait for night?! You're MOONSHADOW ELVES! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS IN BROAD DAYLIGHT????

I wanted to strangle someone.

The only good thing, imo, is that she did tell Callum ahead of time. That's growth! She knew what she felt she needed to do and let him know. And very critically, she did not want him involved because she knew this was going to hurt Ezran and didn't want to put Callum in a position to directly pick her over his brother. It is so clear that Ezran is in turmoil and he deserves to have his brother there with him. Callum SHOULD have stayed with his brother, but they had to be stupid and stage a prison break in broad daylight like absolute bafoons. I just...it's so dumb.

I get that the idea is to not keep Ethari waiting 'one minute longer' than needed, but come on guys. You can still race back to the Silvergrove while taking reasonable precautions to ensure you actually make it back to Ethari alive. I think he'd prefer that actually.

It just all felt contrived for drama, at the cost of characters acting reasonably intelligent especially my man Runaan who's a fully grown adult and should have known better than just walk into Katolis, ffs man critical thinking skills

What's my take away from this long mess? That this should have been a building conflict within our original trio starting from the moment Rayla got the coins and understood what they were. Ezran should have been involved in the discussions on freeing Rayla's parents, especially Runaan. If that's too much to ask for, we should have atleast seen some conflict out of Callum on the matter (Harrow was his dad too). It's a fumbled arc in my opinion, thru and thru

but hey that's just me, just needed to put some thoughts to paper as it were. hopefully this mess makes sense

[luxthestrange]

OP Memes#1

*Taps Mic and looks at readers*-Dracule Mihawk has no "Top" bone in his body, Goth boy is a BOTTOM,he is a pillow princess-COME AT ME!-I AINT AFRAID

[todayisafridaynight]

arasawa 'but are they You Know' can be so funny check this out. literally any scenario involving ichiban being nosy

[tonycries]

Love Thy D!LF - T.F.

Synopsis. Yes, your neighbor is a hot, pérvy D!LF. Yes, he’s a total tease. No, you don’t think your poor new bed frame is going to stay in one piece…

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, older! Toji, voyéurísm, pánty-stéaling, male mast., exhibítionísm, he is so DOWN BAD, matíng presses, marathon s, víbrators, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, p slápping, p talking, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, PÚSSYDRÚNK TOJI, proposals, overstím, creampíes, shóoting blanks, he’s a tease that’s shírtless half the time, Megumi’s a real one, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.1k (PHEW)

A/N. Apartment building wouldn’t last a week if he was my neighbor.

Neighbor (UGH): another pair of those cute lil’ pajama shorts made their way onto my balcony again, ma.

Your neighbor was a tease.

Ever since you’d stepped foot into this apartment building a mere few months ago, it seemed like everything and anything he did was to rile your poor head up into a frenzy - and, well, down there…

Because, for lack of a better term, Toji Fushiguro was hot. 

Once your landlord had off-handedly mentioned that the occupant of the apartment right beside your own was a single father, you’d imagined a sweet older man that doted on his young son and would likely steer clear out of your way. 

What you certainly had not expected was for your housewarming gift of a fresh batch of cookies to be oh-so-blatantly greeted by a staggeringly gorgeous man that took up every inch of the doorframe. Shirtless.

Bzzt–!

Your skin burns with the realization of just how deeply you’d been reminiscing back to that heavenly sight, hastily snapping your eyes back onto your blaring phone screen.

Neighbor (UGH): well? hurry before i start to like them too much <3

Ugh, you’re rolling your eyes at that mischievous little heart placed at the end of his text. It was absolutely embarrassing how that was enough to have a tiny squeal slipping through your lips involuntarily. Calling you flirty nicknames, flashing winks your way, lingering his hands just slightly whenever he helped carry your groceries upstairs - Toji did everything. 

You find yourself giving your reflection a slow one-over in your phone camera - just in case. Before padding eagerly down the treacherous pathway that carried you out of your apartment and along the five steps down the corridor to your neighbor’s door. 

Heaving out a shaky breath, you knock.

And Toji Fushiguro never made you wait. He never had you standing in the hallway for more than two seconds before that heavy wooden door swings open…almost as if he’d been suspiciously standing by for this.

“Took ya long enough. Heh, I was beginning to think you almost wanted me to have it, doll.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shit, you should’ve known - and it takes every ounce of will in your body to keep your gaze locked with the forest-green eyes sweeping down the expanse of your figure. Greedily. 

Because Toji was showing off what looked like miles upon miles of slightly-tanned, bulging muscles that were just about seconds away from ripping straight through the thin, white undershirt that stuck to him like a second skin. Molding to every curve and dip down, down, down- 

It’s not something new exactly, and if there was one thing you’d learned during your time here, it was that your eccentric neighbor wasn’t shy to show skin.

Especially around you. 

In one hand was grasped the soft fabric of your cotton shorts, swallowed up by his thick digits. The other propping up on top of the door to flex his strong biceps in a way that makes you gulp. 

You notice with a jolt that Toji’s pinkish tongue briefly peaks out to swipe over that sinful scar sitting prettily at the very edge of his smug smirk. Moving to hum cockily, “Cat got yer tongue?”

He knew what he was doing. 

God, this was already shameful enough without him making it worse. You were only grateful that so far you’d been called over for only a few sundresses and t-shirts - nothing scandalous, yet. 

“No-” you’re mumbling out. Trying oh-so-hard to not let your eyes flicker to the too-tight strain of his boxers around his thick thighs. Failing. “Just wondering how you probably need those shorts more than me, anyway.”

He didn’t - in fact, you’d prefer him without one.

A fat thumb of his finds its way to the hem of his boxers, tugging down so tantalizingly slightly to give you a sexy flash of skin. Lined with a sharp hipbone, and a dark happy trail - “S’that your way of tellin’ me you want me out of this, ma?”

“You wish, pervert.” You try to swipe at your shorts, only for Toji to dangle it far, far away from you. “I just meant those b-boxers look like they’ve seen better days. Years, even.” 

“Hah?” Toji’s dragging out mockingly, leaning his broad shoulders against the doorframe. He’s crossing his hands, letting your sight be obscured by the display of his strong, rippling forearms. So close now that you feel his breath fan your face, could smell every waft of his cinnamony masculine scent. Grin only widening, “M’being nice enough to take the time outta my day to hand over your cute lil’ pieces of laundry and this is how ya talk to me? I have better things to do, y’know.”

Huffing, you’re ready with a quick apology on the very tip of your tongue to get this over with as soon as possible. That is, before-

“He’s lying.”

Both of you snap your heads down towards the direction of the sullen, deadpanning voice. And you already know by the wearied sigh at the end who it belongs to. 

“Why, hello there, Megs-” you’re smiling, reaching out to ruffle those spikes of black hair that’d magically manifested beside the door. Ignoring Toji’s affronted grunts of “he never lets me do that.”

“He’s lying, y’know.” Megumi blinks his eyes up at you, and you silently wonder just how it was possible for a six-year-old to look like he’s seen all the horrors of the world already. He’s ruthless. Pointing a sharp, accusatory finger up at his father, “He doesn’t have better things to do. He’s been giggling disgustingly to himself in front of the door for the past-”

“That’s enough- why don’t you get some homework done, my son.” Toji’s clapping his hand immediately over Megumi’s mouth, wrangling his tiny, thrashing body over one shoulder before briefly disappearing inside. 

“Just tell her!”

“I’m taking your iPad time away!”

It’s just about all that you hear from inside before he makes his appearance again - shaggy, black tresses now disheveled, high cheekbones flushed, and from the corner of your very obvious staring you notice a pearly bead of sweat disappear between his cushiony pecs. Though, your eyes follow, you didn’t mind…

“Tch- kids these days, right?” he’s gasping in a few hurried lungfuls. Planting the shorts into your open palms, his calloused pads linger on your hand. “S-so uh, I take that the dryer’s not working, yet?”

You’re sighing, rubbing your fingers over your throbbing temples. “Yeah, I told Higuruma- our landlord to look at it, but he’s still on that business trip and won’t be back for a while. Sorry about all this, Toji.”

“Please-” he’s waving. “You worry your pretty lil’ head too much, it’s not like m’complaining now. Am I?”

“Yeah but-”

“Besides. Why don’t I take a look at it?”

“What?” your brows scrunch together, and the thought of Toji being inside your home made your words tremble ever-so-slightly with- anticipation? Excitement? Want? Whatever it was, it made his dark brows raise, and you’re sure you had an utterly unexplainable look on your face right now. “Do you even know how to?”

He’s scoffing, eyes rolling at you with practice. “Asking me if I know how to fix shit- of course, I fuckin’ know how to fix a dryer. Probably better than ol’ clipboard Higuruma himself. You need to be taken care of, y’know.”

And, yes, that might be so - but more than that came the idea that Toji had to enter your home to do so. You couldn’t help but think of something else. Making you mutter out a heated, “I’ll…consider it.”

He smiles a smug smile, a tiny dimple digging into the very end of his cheek. “Tha’s what I like to hear, ma.”

The very second that door shuts, you’re rushing back to your own apartment. Shorts clutched to your thumping heartbeat and thighs slightly weaker than they were just a few minutes ago. Slightly…hotter. Ready to scramble back into your bedroom and create just a bit more laundry for tomorrow. 

And only a few seconds later does Toji find himself doing the most pathetic fistbump behind closed doors. The beginnings of a sleazy smile on the very edges of his lips. 

“Smooth, dad.”

“Now I’m serious about no iPad-”

Megumi’s running back into his room before that rasping threat has even left Toji’s predictable lips. Grumbling, he’s making his way to that godforsaken frog-cased iPad cushioned in the middle of the sofa, possibly to hide it away for a few hours.

And then, he sees it. 

Now, one of the very reasons that Toji had rented this apartment in the first place was for that idyllic skyline winking up from over his balcony. Towering buildings, flashing lights, all overlooking his living room couch - which, unfortunately for him - or, well, fortunately more like - just-so-happened to be positioned right next to your own balcony lined with laundry. 

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise for him to catch a fluttering piece of cotton or ratty sleep shirt of yours for him to tease about later. 

With a sigh at the flashing piece of fabric, he’s shuttering the sliding window open - ready to call your pretty self over again before-

“Shit.” Toji hisses, deep baritone wavering. His brows are raising down at the stray cloth, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with a gulp. You really wear this type of shit? Well, he shouldn’t exactly be surprised but…

But this?

Because wrapped easily around his long fingers was a pair of pretty, pretty lace panties. Panties. All pink and see-through enough that Toji thinks he could see his own fingerprints through that flimsy excuse of underwear. 

All of a sudden…his hands mindlessly raise up, up, up - mere inches away from his nose when…fuck.

“Damn, woman.” he’s spitting, snapping back to his senses. Ignoring the tightening in his pants to speedwalk his hasty way over to his bedroom in search of his phone. Just a few clicks away from texting you- “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me I swear-”

And, see, Toji Fushiguro isn’t the type to stutter. 

He isn’t the pathetic type to let anyone else���s voice shoot a bolt of electricity down his spine - to choke right in the middle of his sentence. 

But, you always did throw him off, didn’t you?

Because he’s letting his maw slack open in a sharp gasp- no, shudder at the muffled, drawling sound from beyond the walls. Fingers loosening around his phone in sheer shock when he snaps his head towards his shared wall where your bedroom was. 

Where he could hear your honeyed voice. Moaning. 

And Toji gulps…before locking the door to his bedroom.

Like an animal, he’s immediately sneaking up to press his greedy ear against the wall where it was emanating from. Aching for every tiny gasp and whine, he could just imagine the way you were splayed out across your plush mattress, fingers buried deep.

So cute.

“Please- it feels s-so good.” Comes your cute mewl, followed by the buzzing vrrrr—! of what he assumes to be that hot pink rose toy of yours that’d accidentally gotten delivered to his address last week. And Toji almost snickers.

“F-fuck-” he breathes out shakily. Unabashedly listening for more, more, more- “Ya can’t be serious- what a treat.”

And Toji knows he should be the bigger person and stop listening, he knows he should ignore the sultry way your trembling moans were sending shockwaves down to his tight boxers. But he can’t.

“Ngh- r-right there-” you’re whimpering, and Toji tuts at the way he could’ve found your sweet spots much earlier. “-yeah- hah- jus’ a little more- Toji-”

His phone clatters! to the ground.

Did you just say…his name?

“Fuck-” One massive hand of his comes down to clap over his jaw-dropped mouth, biting back an answering moan coming from something dangerously dark, primal from inside his heaving chest. 

Shit, he can’t breathe - he can’t even think right now because every drop of blood in Toji’s entire body was sprinting down to his heavy cock smacking down his thigh. Rock-hard. Angry. Just twitching when your voice repeats his name louder. 

“Toji—!”

Ah, there it was again. And with it, he can feel every shred of his sanity being thrown away. Only once- twice was enough to get Toji addicted. To have his melty mind yearning to hear it again. And again. And again and again and-

Toji feels pathetic. 

Like some hormone-hazed, younger version of himself when his hands frantically fumble their way to hook into the elastic band of his boxers. Feeling absolutely zero guilt when he tugs-

Toji was hard. Painfully, furiously hard just from the mere sound of your voice. Swollen and sobbing. It was enough to have his fat, strawberry-pink tip smack! against his toned abs, smearing down a wet glissade of precum that makes him hiss. All but drooling at the scratch of your panties being wrapped delicately around his sensitive shaft. 

“Oh god.” he’s breathing out, thumbing over a wet glide on the bawling divot of his swollen head. It’s pooling like a translucent little puddle, wet enough that those pearlescent beads gloss a wet trail all the way down to his wrist. And he’s popping the salted-caramel digit into his mouth. “Wh-who the fuck do ya think you are ta get me this hard, ma?”

The fat curve of his thumb latches on to plug up the very ends of his cock, stopping himself from wasting a single precious drop before listening.

For anything.

“C-c’mon–” Toji lets his heavy body lean against the wall after a few more sloppy squelches that pull from your saturated cunt. He could already hear how dripping wet you were. How needy. “Wanna hear your hah- pretty lips talk-”

Toji’s sinking his sharp canines onto his lower lip to hold back a groan. Because as much as he loved to hear himself talk - hearing you moan was worth more than anything. Even if it cost him his rationality to quieten down. Please- 

Ah, his prayers are answered.

Because the wall slightly jitters with your vibrating voice once more. “Oh- sh-shit it feels so good-”

“Heheh, does it?” he’s grunting, drawing a slow wetness of swirls on the underside of his slit. Hard enough to send him seeing stars. “Tell me- t-tell me more, ma.”

And could you read his mind?

Because whatever’s left of it certainly seems to think so at the way that no sooner are the words spilling from his babbling lips that you’re feeding his blessed ears with a few more syrupy sweet whines. And Toji shivers when he hears the creak of your bed.

Damn…he could make it break. He’s sure. 

The thought is enough to send his hips rutting into his fist, furiously fucking up into it like he was angry. Like he wishes he could do with you-

“O-oh-” Toji gasps out a hot, condensed breath feeling the slight massage of your thin panties at his twitchy balls. He’s unsteadily picking its sticky cloth apart to press it even deeper into the drenched tufts of black at his hilt, down every thumping vein that’s lightning-bolted down his length. “This thing b-barely even wraps around my cock, doll.”

He’s hot. So, so hot. Latching onto the hem of his undershirt with his teeth to swipe across his sensitive nipples. 

Burning.

And, really, he didn’t know what was worse for his poor self - your noises from just the other room, or the way your panties felt so good down his cock in this one. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He twirls your panties around his fat hilt, meshing against the creamy pink at his hefty base. Fucking it up, up, up with pound after pound that half-leaves the poor thing in tatters. Well, he sure hoped you didn’t like this pair too much. “Probably so fuckin’ oh- wet now, huh? Did I do that? Didn’t know you were s-such a slut f’me.”

Every slobbering drag down his length has Toji’s dark brows knitting together. Back and forth back and forth back and- So hard. 

So hot and heavy. He could barely catch his breath, sweat perspires across his forehead, and Toji could almost taste the metallic tang of blood when he’s holding back every rasping ah! ah! ah! just to hear your voice. 

It was agonizing. 

And he couldn’t help but imagine the way you were probably toying your tired fingers over your clit - the way you’d probably be so shy at how he could so clearly hear you. Killing Toji that it was the only thing he could do.

SLAM!

“Shit-” Toji’s snapping his head up at the mindless way his free hand had come smashing down onto the nearby drawer for any shred of balance. Sharp ears searching desperately for any sign that you’d heard-

“Ngh- yes- jus’ a bit more-”

He breathes out a guilty sigh of relief when the saturated slurps of your cunt only continue. Filling his mind sloppily like his favorite song. Gulping in a harsh wad of saliva before spitting a thick stream right onto the very edge of his plump, reddish head. His hulking body wracks with a violent shudder as it drip! drip! drips down every tender spot on his swollen cock. Beading down to cover his heavy balls in a thin sheen of spit. 

“Look what you’ve done.” he’s spitting. Other hand coming down to rub lazy, massaging circles around his bulbous, cum-filled sacks. The sheer stimulation enough to have his head lolling drunkenly against the wall.

“M’so close-” Your voice only makes Toji fuck into his hand even harder - if only it was you. You, you, you - the only thing playing around his currently stupid mind. “-g-gonna cum ah-”

That makes him bawl out another furious wave of precum staining your panties see-through, glinting with every flutter down his raw cock. Faster. It was building and building up so close-

“C-close already?” he’s snickering, bending at the knees with how weak he was. Toji’s biceps flex and and ache with just how wildly he was fucking up into his fist, abs rippling with each wild buck. He half-wonders if he’d be able to see that pretty frilly pattern of your panties imprinted on his cock the next day. Over and over- “I woulda m-made you cum sooner.”

Would your beautiful eyes roll to the very back of your head when you did?

Would you beg him to cum, too? To fill you up. To breed you. Shit, that had his hefty shaft twitch in his hands, electricity flashing behind Toji’s eyes. 

Would you moan his name - oh, please moan his name.

“P-please-” Toji finds himself gasping, and his entire body was hunched over now. Pathetic. Waiting for any second that you’d reach your high - he was a gentleman, after all. “Cum f’me- ah fuck fuck fuck-” Twiddling a manicured thumb in a slow line underneath his sensitive slit, it was making him moan so dangerously loud. “-please- cum on this fuckin’ cock, ma.”

“Fuck! Toji-” Comes your yelp, and it makes his mouth water. Breath held in a choked-up gasp in his puffing chest, “-m’cumming.”

He could see it already - just how pretty you’d look with your head thrown back and your back arching into his cock when you finally reach your high. 

Now, Toji doesn’t know what overtook him to drag those drenched panties up to his face - to press it thoroughly against his nose and smell your essence. Breathing it in. drinking it in. But he can’t pretend like he hadn’t imagined it many, many times before. 

And it makes him cum 

It makes him shudder with a heavy puff of air, once. Twice. Before dumping and dumping out stringy wads of seed until your soft panties were soaked.

“Oh shit- shit shit shit-” he spews out a slurring slew of profanities, painfully hard cock bursting at the end with wet splatters of cum. So much of it. It’s making such a filthy mess that he almost feels guilty. 

Jaw clenching when he’s forced to part with your panties with a pained gruff, sliding it along his thoroughly coated cock. Hi cum seeps through the fabric and into a milky puddle that pools at his wrist, dripping down a milky sheen across his skin. 

“Mmpf–” his mouth salivates. A low, disappointed scoff bursting at the back of his throat when your own obscene noises quieten down. He missed you already. Dewy eyes veering to the back of his head, he’s only wondering how much prettier these would look on you. Still as ruined. “You’d be lucky to get these fuckin’ panties back, woman.”

Bzzt–! 

From its discarded place on the floor, he can read the notification flashing across the phone screen.

Cutie-next-door: I’ve decided - can you come by tomorrow to fix the dryer, pleeeease?

---

“-ah, ya see when this vent is clogged s’gonna stop working. And so what you hafta do is-”

You weren’t listening.

You couldn’t.

Because Toji Fushiguro was sprawled out across your cramped kitchen - completely shirtless.

You had half the mind to turn him away after he’d knocked on your door with absolutely no sign of any upperwear - that sleazy grin plastered all over his face begging the answer to whether this was on purpose. To tease you. “Can move better this way” your ass. 

But the thought of having even more of your laundry fly away, forcing you to potentially face this very same display multiple times is what had you opening your front door wider to let him inside. 

No matter how much you would’ve appreciated the view…

And so here you were, squirming in one corner of the kitchen while Toji worked on your dryer. Sweat sheening down his swole muscles, disappearing in tempting beads down underneath his low-hanging pants. Slight smears of grease decorate his pecs, and you have to cross your arms to stop yourself from thumbing them away. He was so handy. 

Shit, this was why you’d dolled-up just a bit more than usual. He was so-

“-doll? Doll.”

“Uh-” you’re yelping, blinking your eyes back up to meet an extraordinarily smug smirk now directed at you. “W-what were you saying?”

“Heh, I was saying you should take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he titters with a slight rumble, tools clinking when he’s taking off his bulky gloves. “Ya can enjoy the view later, but I was askin’ if ya had anything to dry right now to test this piece of junk.”

Urgently, you’re looking towards your empty laundry basket. “Sorry, seems that I dried them all out yesterday.”

“No pressure, besides-” You can only watch when he shuffles a hand inside one of his curiously bulging pant pockets. “-I came prepared.”

“Wh-wha- where did you get that?” 

Because held so daintily within Toji’s cocky clutches, dangled one of your missing pairs of panties. They looked recently washed, and you’re reaching with a yelp for it. Falling onto your knees to match his seated position - which, obviously didn’t mean he’d hand it over. 

Why would he? This was Toji Fushiguro. 

He only throws them into your dryer, before closing the door with a dark snicker, “More like why let them fly their merry way over to my balcony again. Honestly- you call me the tease but look who’s talking.”

“You’re saying I’m the tease?” you shrill. The embarrassment was getting to you now - it was overconsuming you - and if the leering smirk on Toji’s face was anything to go by, you were sure that it was visible. 

“If the shoe- or, well, panties fit.”

He was so cocky about his stupid lil’ joke. 

You stab a rude finger right between the valley of his pecs, copping a feel of the velvety smooth skin. “Sh-shut up, if you want to talk about a tease then let’s talk about who showed up to fix a dryer shirtless.”

“Part of the outfit.” he shrugs. Tilting his head up at you, and shit, it finally hits you how precariously close you two are right now. Toji’s splayed out on your cool kitchen tile, while you’re straddling his slender waist with jittery legs, pressed up against the heated proximity of his unfairly shirtless body. Chest-to-chest. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the view, little miss had-a-fun-time-yesterday.”

You blink, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But in true Toji fashion, the closest to an answer you get is a large hand attaching roughly onto your waist. Jostling your body close enough for him to breathe out in a feverish chuckle - hot, and purposeful against your ear. “The walls are thin. Just sayin’.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. 

You knew exactly what he was talking about - and so did he. 

“...I heard you, too, y’know.”

Ah, you can now live your life happily knowing that you managed to make the ever-confident Toji gasp. You managed to make him part his lips in a slight gape, green eyes glinting with a hint of something dangerous as they widen. His sensory digits pinch at your hips. 

“You mean-”

“Yes.”

Uncharacteristically, Toji takes a few gulping seconds to find his voice. And when he does - the very sound is enough to send shivers down your spine and make you wonder for a split-second whether this was really him. Hoarse, pained when he muses, “You heard me and still continued?”

Instantly, you’re trying to form excuses. “No! I mean- yes. It’s just that…”

“Heh, cute. You continued because of me- didn’t ya?”

Your jaw drops in shock, now a slightly defensive tone bleeding in with the embarrassment of your actions. “I-I mean I was doing- it- just fine before I heard you.”

Toji cocks his head, and only says one thing - “Prove it.”

.

.

.

“T-Toji this is embarrassing-”

But oh, all that Toji was wondering was whether he’d knocked his head on that goddamn dryer and gone to heaven already. 

Because splayed out for all his pleasure on the cushiony bed was you - quivering legs straddled wide open, your back arched in such a delicious curve that makes his mouth water. Your silken sheets were disheveled and sloppy enough that you’d have to pray the dryer works now. Glistening cunt winking down at him eagerly, just begging him in cute, slurring squelches after every buzzing push of your vibrator.

And Toji? Seated right underneath your cute cunt - hovering mere inches away from sitting on his cocky smirk. 

All he’d been imagining. As gorgeous as how he’d imagined you yesterday- no, even more so.

Toji’s leering up at you, muscular thighs manspreading even more to show off his furiously hard erection. “Shhh sh sh-” Toji hums, eyes unwavering from right between your legs. “She’s the one talkin’ to me right now, doll.”

And surely enough, it’s almost like he’s having a conversation with your pussy. Nodding and drunkenly humming along to every slurp that resounds across the heady room. “Tha’s right, make her- make her even wetter for me.”

He’s letting loose his long pinkish tongue to catch the drops of your sweet, sweet juices that slide down his throat. 

His breath is so steaming hot against your cunt. Feverish. You huff out a dragged-out whine, kissing up your plump clit with the very edge of your rose toy. Just barely teasing the sensitive hood, “B-but I need you so-”

“Now now, what did I say?” he tuts away your stubborn moans easily. And you’re gazing over your shoulder upon the utterly unapologetic grin that falls across Toji’s face when he tugs down his own pants to flash you with the fat, rotund curve of his ruddied tip. Curling his fingers over the very top, “You don’t need me, remember- Let that pretty pussy talk with me or all you’re gonna do is watch.”

Except now you didn’t think you could talk even if you wanted to.

Your eyes are glazing over with a fresh wall of need when they fall greedily upon the peaking sight of Toji’s fat cock. So massive that it makes your jaw slip open, your cunt gushing out in a few gushes of slick. 

“Oh shit- shit-” his eyes widen at the sight, so thoroughly honed in. Almost as if he doesn’t even realize he’s speaking to you. Doesn’t even know. And a few ringing squelches is all it takes for him to throw his head back with a groan. “That got ya wet, ma, didn’t it? Made your cute ngh- c-cunt happy?”

“Yes-” you’re gasping, winking away the overstimulated tears in your eyes. “B-but I want you-”

“Tell me exactly  what you want, doll.”

So bossy, you want to snap back. 

But right now you’re too hypnotized by the slutty sight of him to say a word. The way he seemed so ruined. That you can’t help but whimper, “I want you to hah- make me cum.”

And it’s just a split-second later when his brawny arms come wrapping around your jittery waist, hauling you over like some glorified rag doll to seat your fatigued legs down. Your dripping cunt meeting his mouth in a sultry, sultry French kiss. 

He doesn’t waste a second longer - almost as if beating himself up for all the time wasted - before dragging his tongue to open your presoaked folds. Swirling so hotly to smear them out across his lips, Toji dredges his raised scar across your most tender spots and moans. 

Sweet.

So sweet.

“This- this fuckin’ delicious?” He sounded like he was losing his mind, swatting aside your hand. “Move that fuckin’ hand. Y-you were- you were holding out on this? Could eat this cute cunt all the time- could marry ya-”

Proposing and proposing and kissing-

He latches down his glistening canines around your clit and pinches, almost as if a little punishment. And you could practically see the delight lighting up his dark eyes when your cunt slowly grows even more drenched. Little masochist, he’s thinking. 

You yelp when without any sort of warning his cheeks hollow out in a sudden suck at your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue over it. “H-how’s that feel?” he giggles - giggles. “Better than your imagination or what?”

It already was. 

But you couldn’t let his ego expand anymore than it already has, so the only thing you’re managing to do is trap a few sweat-dampened locks of his hair and drag your slobbering cunt down Toji’s mean mouth. Partly because you needed it, partly because you needed him to shut up. 

Choking out, “D-don’t get so full of yourself, Toji–”

“Full of myself?” he’s chuckling - face smeared with a translucent mask of glistening slick that told you exactly why he should be full of himself. It glosses over his curled lips and drips down Toji’s sharp jawline. “Full of myself? Gimme that-”

Instantly, your till buzzing vibrator is being snatched meanly out of your hands. “S’this what ya want, instead, ma?”

Toji didn’t expect an answer.

And you can’t give him one.

Because that furiously jittery probe is being bullied right between your puffy pussy lips, licking a languid line down the edge of your sloppy hole. Before he’s bullying the long end inside your eager entrance-

“Does it feel good?” he’s taunting. Sinking down onto your clit and pulling. “Oh yeah- feels great. Doesn’t it?”

But it’s such a mouthful that sputtered out into your clit. The vibrations of white-hot pleasure making your spine bow like such a slut into Toji’s ravenous mouth. And your jaw slack open in the most strained of whines, “Y-yeah feels so-mmpf-”

Immediately, your mouth is being firmly shut closed with one of Toji’s mountainous palms, and he snickers. Giving you pretty lil’ cunt a pat that has splatters of slick speckling all the way to his lips - ones that he gladly licks up. And then some at the remnant excess all over your thighs. “I was talking to her.”

“Y-you’re so mean.”

At this, he pulls back and blows a heated gust of air against your puckered hole. “And you’re fucking drenched.” That spearing bullet is lodged firmly against a few tenderized sweet spots that make you keen. “And she’s saying…s’not enough.”

You were sure he was talking for himself. 

Or…was he? 

Honestly, you don’t even know - you didn’t even realize what you were missing until the fat girths of Toji’s digits shove their filthy way into your narrow opening. Already so stuffed, yet, he’s scissoring aside the vibrator into the gooey depths of your walls. 

Either you could take him or he’ll make space. 

Whistling out in awe, “Dontcha think this feels muuuch better?” As if to whittle out another one of your syrupy sweet noises, you’re being gifted with another sopping wet thwack! against the ready nub of your clit. Before Toji wraps his scarred lips around it and sucks. “Look- she’s even fuckin’ wetter.”

You didn’t even have to see to be able to know - because you could hear. 

Toji was steadily pummeling your cunt with the most staggering smashes of the rounded curves of his fingertips into your sweetest spots. Jostling the vibrator inside, knuckles smashing it with friction to rub up against your constricting walls. 

Honestly, it was just so much. You felt stuffed. 

“F-feels like m’gonna explode.” you mewl at the heady thump! thump! thump! shuddering all across your body - and you didn’t know whether it was because of the thundering pulse in your ears, because of the way Toji’s fingers were crashing and thrusting against your tender g-spot. His neatly cut fingernails glide soaking wet grazes over and over in a sloppy staccato. “Ah! Right there, it f-feels so good-”

“Tch, you think I don’t know?” Toji’s rolling his eyes, muttering his words into your sopping slit. His free hand comes slamming down in a harsh smack! against your ass to make you lug against his face faster. “Ride yourself on me, ma.”

You stumble through it - yearning for more. 

“Faster.”

“I-I’m trying.’”

But it wasn’t enough. Obviously. 

And Toji’s impatiently revolving one hand around the curve of your waist to make you press down hard in the most sultry gyrations. Around and around it had him hypnotized. “Not tryin’ hard ‘nough. Cuz this pretty lady h-here’s just crying to cum, doll. Ya hear her?”

How could you not?

It’s all that you replay in your mind. Accompanied with a shot ngh ngh ngh that was curdling at the very back of Toji’s throat. Whispered into every graze of his tongue down your slit, you took a quick glance backwards to catch the way that he was properly fucking his fist now. 

Long, thorough drags down his achy cock to bead out wet sloshes of precum. Only getting faster. Sloppier. Red and angry-

“Shit.” you’re whimpering, hands steadying on either side of his bulging deltoids. It felt like your very bones were rattling along with the vibrator. Nails digging in to the muscle, “I th-think m’close- think m’gonna-”

And oh Toji’s eyes stray to the back of his head at how reminiscent this was of just yesterday. Snickering a heavy, “You ‘think’? I know she’s so fuckin’ close. Can feel her. Isn’t she? Gonna cum? Gonna make a ngh- mess on me, is she?”

Answeringly, he’s leaving another few smacks! on your mound that have your gooey walls fluttering, the double penetration of both the buzzing bullet and his fingers too much. Too close. You feel every delicate bundle of your nerves exasperate. 

And it’s impossible not to mumble out drunkenly - embarrassingly. “Sh-she is.”

It’s so rough.

Both your release and the way that Toji was fucking you through it - because the very moment he hears your breath hitch in a saturated manner similar to last time, he’s tugging out your buzzing vibrator and toppling it somewhere over the bed. Replacing it with every long inch of his heated tongue- 

Like hell he’d have you cumming on some damn plastic before his tongue.

“Shit- it feels so-” Barely managing to formulate the words into coherent syllables. Your body convulses when he swiftly pecks your pretty clit with the rose toy instead. “-so good- ngh! M’cumming m’cumming ah-”

Toji’s fucking you through your high with the double stimulation of his fingers and his tongues spreading open your snug insides mercilessly. Ruthlessly. Wave upon wave of pleasure that had your toes curling, vision flashing white. Sensitive pussy dredging up from the very bottom of his sharp chin all the way up to his button nose. 

It’s adorable how tired you were already, already huffing and puffing for breath. He could almost laugh if he didn’t have a mouthful already.

“Yeah tha’s right-” he slurps, more than talks. Thick digits curling tight and thumbing over his twitchy divot to wall up that velvety wisp of cum from escape. Leaving kiss after kiss to have your drooling cunt ride his sexy features faster. “-give it t’me.” Greedy. “Give it alllll to me.”

But even that didn’t seem like enough.

Because even after your aggressive orgasm was petering out into mere tingles at your quivering pussy, even after he’d slurped up every tiny drop of your honeyed juices - Toji Fushiguro was starved. 

So completely ravenous when he speaks, “I think…she’s sayin she wants ta squirt, doll.”

“Wh-what?” you’re breathing - you didn’t even know if that was possible.

With a surprising amount of gentleness, Toji’s placing you to sit all prettily on his spread legs. Just slobbering your pussy lips in an innocent smooch over his hardness. 

“Heh, what? Don’t trust me?” Toji cocks his head down at you in sheer smugness, a glistening gloss stained all around his lips. It made him look so fucked-out. And he felt like he already was - but Toji wouldn’t admit that. No, he’s only murmuring a wet, “Or are ya scared that m’gonna get ya ah- addicted?”

You showcase him with a slight pout that makes his riled-up cock twitch in one hand. That makes him immediately kiss it away - letting you taste him. Taste yourself. 

It’d already taken everything in him to stop himself from cumming just by making out with your cunt. 

“No s’just that- I’ve never squirted before…”

His words are sure. Confident. He’s echoing them from not too long ago, “Lemme take a look at that.”

And apparently Toji’s definition of taking a look is to slide the curve of his thick thumb in-between your dribbling slit. Up and down until his lips curl in a smile, “Well she’s tellin’ me that she can-oh shit, look at that.” Those very same fingers wrapping around the hilt of his thick cock to nudge your folds apart. “So why don’t I fix that, hm?”

God, Toji is so much bigger than he looked - which was staggering considering his sheer bulge was enough to send your mind reeling.

The curve of his fat tip bathes in a few more of your syrupy drops before bullying inside-

“O-oh my god-” Your voice wavers, sweat simmering all down your body at how dizzyingly Toji was spearheading your cunt open. Wide. So much of him that you didn’t know whether to buck your hips away or down for more, more, more- “S’too big- shit, don’t even know if I can ngh- t-take it, Toji–!”

“Oh, say my name like that once more n’ you’re gonna ah- hafta take every inch.” he grunts out, snarling smile making your gummy walls flutter around him. 

You’re being fed every solid inch, Toji’s girth making your tight circumference stutter. Gaping your sloppy hole wide open around his expanding cock- shit, just the slightest peak into your heavenly depths was enough to have his fat length swelling. Pushing into your tender sweet spots when he grows. 

“Y-you got even bigger?” you gasp, and it makes him cackle.

Throwing his head back to laugh, “Of course I got f-fuckin’ bigger when you feel like this, ma.” And two of his roughened palms glide their greedy pathway downwards to spread your thighs even further. Using gravity to his lewd advantage to help you gulp down your every mindless grind to simply fit himself inside. “W-where have ya been all my life.”

And Toji sounded like he was genuinely distraught that he didn’t know. 

He was genuinely so upset, lower lip wobbling with pure bliss once your overstuffed pussy was resting on his sharp hip bones. Giving an experimental little gyration of his hips to swirl his shaft around your walls, it makes you whine. 

“Tha’s what m’fuckin’ talking about.”

And then in a split-second, you’re being slammed onto your back and wrangled into the meanest mating press you never thought possible. 

It’s like Toji was out of control. 

Feral.

A slight trickle of drool trailing down the edge of his growling lips, “Shit- take my fucking cock ngh- take it all, doll. Ya don’t know how long I’ve been d-dreaming of this.”

“Yes yes yes-” you sputter. Edging your uselessly limp thighs to lock around Toji’s straining neck - and if he was going easy on you before. Then oh, you weren’t ready for the way this makes him snap his flexing body down to fold you in half. His sweat-beaded forehead knocking gently into yours, “-been ah- been dreamin’ of this ever since I m-moved in-”

Shit.

The thick pudge of Toji’s relentless head careens into the bullseye of your g-spot easily. And Toji titters to himself about the pretty moans that drag from your shot throat - that is, if he had the self-control.

Because your previous words were still thundering in his pussydrunken mind, and it makes him gasp. It makes him shoot his eyes open almost comically, it makes him crash his lips into your with a sullen hiss. “Give a man a fuck- warning. You c-can’t just say- things- like- that-”

As if to prove his point, he’s planting a few more heated French kisses against your sweetest spots. How he mapped them out so quickly you had no idea. 

His feverish breath hovers over your own mouth, gusts bounding out with every pound into your cunt. He’s bruising the circular branding of his sobbing tip down your spongy cervix, a tiny ah! of disappointment leaving Toji’s stern lips at the recoil that had him pushing back from the very bottom of your pussy. 

He’s so filthy. 

“Because what if–” It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s still babbling drunkenly, flicking over a calloused thumb over your clit to get your delirious attention. “-are ya listening, woman? What- ah- what if I told ya I was the fuckin’ same. Wanted to f-fuck this cute cunt the moment I saw ya, wanted to ruin her- to breed her-”

And just when he’s heaving in such a sharp inhale. As if he’s spoken too much.

Yet, even through the way that Toji was fucking you stupid - you still manage to latch onto his words. 

“Y-you wanted to ah- cum inside?” you’re blinking up at him innocently in a way that only made his hips jackhammer against yours harder. Teasing your sensitive clit with a pinch. “Tell me, Toji.”

God- you said his name. 

Shit shit shit, didn’t he tell you not to-

“Yes!” Toji’s shuddering out, hefty balls twitching and thwacking their tight, cum-filled sacks against your ass. He’s fucking you so wildly. The mating press that he had you in let him glide a wet thrust down every single nook and cranny inside you. Every forbidden sweet spot. “Wanted- wanted it so badly- ah-”

Batting your teary lashes, “How badly?”

Two of Toji’s mean fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, and he’s using that cutely ajar opening of your mouth to spit. A thick, honeyed wad of saliva that purposefully splatters along the edge of your lips - because Toji had perfect aim. He could’ve streamlined it all neatly between your lips.

But you looked and tasted so sweet this way.

When he could just kiss it away filthily with a drag of his tongue, “Shit- what a filthy fuckin’ mouth. Ya really know how to m-make me lose my mind, hm?” Splaying out one large palm about halfway down your stomach, he’s exploring for a lewd cylindrical nudge. A throb when his thickened head was smashing into your g-spot. “If ya i-insist- m’gonna fill ya up until I can feel it-” Pressing down. Hard. “Here.” And now he’s running his mouth a mile a minute, he’s dazed where his cadence grows sloppy. “Until you’re overspilling. Until yer all r-round and hngh- glowing and shit-”

God, he was flying too close to the sun.

Egging him on, he was fucking you into the bed like he was furious at you. Lurching out rickety creaks from the bedframe at his riotous slams! Teasing, “S-s’that it?”

“Is that it? I-is that it?” he’s repeating. Over and over like a humorless mantra. “No tha’s not- ah- fucking ‘it’. M’gonna shit- make you mine. Gonna fuck a b-baby or two into ya.” Shockwaves of electric white flashing down his spine when your gripping walls cling around him like a velvety channel. Stumbling through words, “So they’re gonna know- ah- th-they’re all gonna know what I did. Hah- how I ruined ya…”

You can only sob, “Toji– m’gonna-”

Stimulating tears gather up beside Toji’s eyelids with every pressurized ram, and he finds it in himself to rasp a drunken giggle. “G-gonna give Megumi a lil’ sibling, ma?”

He doesn’t have to hear your response, he doesn’t think he can. Because no sooner are you crashing into your orgasm that Toji is as well. 

He realizes before you - far, far before you at how you were squirting. 

Drizzling your juices in a coating gloss down his cock, his abs, some spattering up to Toji’s lips. He took a look into it alright. 

Your bolting waves of bliss intruded by his rummaging cock. Twitching once. Twice. Before struggling out thick gushes of sweltering hot seed. 

It’s splattering onto the very back of your bruised and battered cervix in a wet thwack! Oozing out the sides of your silt, you feel your gummy walls being inflated. The tug of ribbons upon ribbons of cum being fucked into sloshes inside and coats your melty walls like a second, sticky skin.

THUD!

Toji collapses onto his wearied forearms, caging you in with his big beefy biceps. Hips slowing down to tiny, subconscious ruts wrenching out the most obscene wet squelches. “Th-the heh- the fuckin’ bed.”

Only then are you batting your fatigued eyes open to realize that one side of the bed was sagging dangerously. “Toji did you b-break the bed?”

“Ah- so what?” And he’s scooping up your pliant body easily into his arms. Lifting you. Manhandling you. Pulling out of your split cunt for just a second to slam! you down onto your nearby work desk. The cool mahogany against your front makes you hiss, “I’ll jus’ t-take a ah- look at it.”

With this, he’s pressing down on the slightly bloated area near your cunt. Gaping. Gushing out thick remnants of his cum - it’s like he was playing around. 

The sight so heavenly that with a dragged-out gasp he’s finding his weepy cock blast out a few more wispy strands of cum. Shit.

“Shit- marry me-” Toji’s throwing his head back with a whimper - a whimper - when his jolting cock veers dangerously into the territory of shooting overstimulated blanks. “Marry me I-I swear. Gonna ah- put a pretty ring on ya, my doll.”

Which is why he’s swirling around his greedy pointer around your gaping entrance. Toying with the creamy ring of seed that’d painted its way around his thick base. Toji pools a few creamy dredges on his fingers and shoves them into your babbling mouth. “Ngh- Toji–!”

“Nowww, let’s see ngh- already finished off th-the bed-” he’s rattling off. Counting on a few fingers of his, “-we have the ohhh fuck- don’t squeeze m-me like that, ma, m’still sensitive- this desk, the floor- the dryer.”

“The dryer?” you mewl. “But you j-jus’ fixed that-”

“Ah, consider it a lil’ payment…along with those panties of yours, of course.”

And it’s only later. 

Hours and hours later, with your bed frame broken on one leg, your desk absolutely shattered, and your carpet soiled with a few whiteish rivulets that you’re finding yourself seated into a tight full nelson on top of the dryer. Toji still splitting you apart inside, shooting blanks before the front door rattles with a sudden knock! knock! knock! 

A deep voice resounding from outside, “Anybody home? It’s Shiu Kong. Higuruma sent me here to fix the dryer.”

“Fuckin’ Shiu…wanna let him in?”

---

“Hello, Shiu? How did the fixing go?” It’s by the next day that Higuruma gets a call in the middle of his important business meeting. One that would probably stay with him for a long, long time. “What do you mean the dryer is broken beyond repair?!”

A/N. Hope you all have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.