#too plush and marketable and Safe

[swan2swan]

I'm sorry, I know I'm going to be in an extreme minority here*, but I hate, hate, hate, hate, HATE that Wishing Star design in Wish.

[gyuzgrl]

off the market ||csc||

summary- You have a crush on your favourite customer. He's big and kind and pretty and god the things you wanted to do to him were unholy. Little do you know, he feels the exact same way.

"welcome!"

That's all you said. All you could say. All it took for Seungcheol to fall hopelessly in love.

He was a regular at your pet daycare center. Him and his puppy Kkuma were there virtually every day, either to pick up a treat or to drop her off in your care for the day.

It was safe to say they were you favourite customers. Sure the dog was cute, but lord, Seungcheol had you acting like a schoolgirl whenever he came around. With his deep voice, his charming smile and god those arms- how could you resist?

You were almost certain however, that he wasn't interested. Sure, you'd caught him staring at you a couple times, sure it was a little odd how he'd tip you a small fortune every now and then, sure his hand lingered on yours for longer than necessary when paying, but there was no way, you were sure. No way a man like him was still on the market.

So you loved him from afar.

Well, as far as he'd let you go, at least.

"Kkuma!" you beamed, reaching out to take the eager fluff ball from Seuncheol's arms.

She snuggled into you, tongue lolling out as you scratched behind her ears.

"spoilt little princess, this one"

You look up to find Seungcheol's gaze fixed onto you.

"y-yeah, she's a little diva, aren't you baby?" you coo, "dropping her off again, Mr Choi?"

He hums, reaching closer to ruffle her fur, "work's gotten a bit much these days- timings are crazy y'know"

Your breath hitches at the sudden proximity. His hand was aimed at the dog, sure, but it was so close- ghosting over the plush skin of your upper chest.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you steady yourself.

"I can uh, I can imagine, sir. I'll keep her safe, don't you worry"

You say it out of duty, but something about that title has Seungcheol fighting demons in his head. Sir. Sir, you call him, like it's the simplest, sweetest thing in the world. Little do you know, behind the crescents of those pretty doe eyes, his thoughts are nothing but pure filth.

Hesitantly, he pulls away, clearing his throat.

"I'll be back in a couple hours, shouldn't be too long... thanks for keeping her"

"it's my job" you laugh, "you're paying me aren't you, sir?"

He coughs, eyes darting all over. Sir. There you go again.

"I'll um- I'll get going. Bye, y/n"

He turns around too quickly to see the crimson hue diffusing across your cheeks. God you loved the way he said your name. It rolled off his tongue so easily.

"bye-bye!" you call after him.

All your interractions had been similar to this. He'd stop by, make polite conversation and leave. But still, still your heart thudded in your chest at the thought of him. He was just so perfect.

A couple of hours later, you hear the door open. It's late at night, so your first instinct is to grab something sharp before you make your way to the cash register out front.

Meekly, you tiptoe outside, clutching a pair of kuromi scissors in your fist.

"y/n?" a familiar voice calls.

It's just Seungcheol. Good.

You breathe a sigh of relief, walking out right away as you greet him with that million dollar smile of yours.

"welcome!"

"hope Kkuma wasn't too much of a mena-" he pauses, glancing down at your hand, "what's up with the scissors?"

"oh- uh, nothing nothing, just as a safety measure- I didn't know it was you so..."

He tenses, unsure of how to feel. On one hand, you insinuated that you felt safe around him, while on the other, you think you're unsafe in the store.

"can I walk you home?"

You're stunned. Your legs feel like jelly and you can barely process his words.

"can you what"

"walk you home. If you feel uncomfortable walking alone this late, that is. I live a minute away, and it really wouldn't be a hassle to step out for a seco-"

"I couldn't ask that of you sir," you interrupt, "it's not that big of a deal either way"

"you aren't asking. I'm offering. and it is a big deal, y/n. I want you to be safe, to feel safe."

Oh that one went straight to your cunt.

"I-" you hesitate.

"look, I'm here almost every day anyways- if that makes you feel any better. if you're gonna refuse, don't do it 'cause you think I'd be inconvenienced. I won't." he says, now gently prying the scissors out of your grasp, "but if you honestly just don't want me to walk you home, I'll back off"

"no it's not that-" you add, urgently.

"how 'bout we try it out today, and you tell me if you wanna continue, that okay?"

You nod, lowering your head in a lame attempt to hide the furious red glow of your cheeks. Seungcheol seems to have noticed already, though. He places the scissors onto the register beside you, and turns to look into your eyes.

When he finds you staring up at him already, he's pleasantly surprised. There's a long silence- a pause in time- and the air around you stills. It's just you and him, gazing into each other's eyes, gauging what the other feels.

He must not know how intimidating his stare is, considering how he refuses to look away. That is until, of course, he spies movement in his vision.

Your hands are shaking. You didn't know they were, until Seungcheol's gaze leaves your own, dropping to your trembling hands.

He steps closer.

"your hands are all jittery today" his voice is low and gentle, "why're you so nervous?"

The space between you lessens as he moves closer, his hand reaching over to hold your trembling one, interlacing his fingers with yours.

You suck in a sharp breath, letting it go in a staccato shudder.

"do I make you nervous?"

Your eyes, wide and round, dart across the room, opting to look anywhere but at him.

"do I?" he pushes, squeezing your hand.

"I-" you start, "I just um- it's a bi-"

Your words are cut off by a shrill bark.

Fuck. Kkuma. You forgot about Kkuma.

"Kku-Kkuma," you stutter, ripping your hand out of his grasp, "I gotta get her out"

He groans, his arm chasing after you as you whip your head around and scurry into the play room. He was so close- he almost got through to you.

His frustrations subside instantly, however, when you return, carrying a sleepy Kkuma in your arms. How the little puppy nuzzled into you, so safe and comfortable, made Seungcheol's heart ache. Kkuma's instincts were never wrong.

"c'mere princess," he coos, and you look up at him with wide eyes. Did he just-

His eyes are on you, knowingly. "missed me, didn't you Kkuma?"

Oh. Right. The dog.

Seungcheol's gaze remains fixed on you, a teasing smirk playing at his lips as you draw closer.

"you're all red" he grins, "here lemme take her" Before you manage to protest, his hands graze the skin of your forearm as he scoops Kkuma out of your embrace and into his.

It was brief, the contact, but you felt something akin to electricity when his fingertips touched your skin. The glow on your cheeks only brightened in response and he bit back a laugh.

"I'll- I should lock up"

"mm you go do that,"

Even with your back turned, you can feel his eyes burning into you, an attentive stare watching all your actions- how you locked up the register, switched off the lights, reached up to pull your shutters closed.

It was endearing to him. You worked so hard everyday, did so much all alone. All he wanted was to help, really.

So he does.

As you nod towards the door, signalling that you're ready to head out, Seungcheol follows.

You pull the main entrance closed, reaching up on tiptoes to yank the outer shutters down, struggling to hook your fingers into the handle. He notices. Of course he does.

Silently, he brushes up against you, his chest dangerously close to your back. His arm extends above your own and he pulls the handle down with ease.

Your brain short circuits.

"what are y-" you gasp, turning around to face him. The air he breathes out fans across your face and his eyes are set on you. This was dangerous. The proximity between your bodies, the warmth of his breath, the way his eyes darted down to your lips- it was too much.

"y/n,"

"yes?"

There's a pause. Seungcheol's brows scrunch up as if he's trying to find the right words to say.

"you don't have to think so hard, Mr Choi," you offer, staring up him with wide eyes.

"Seungcheol." he states, "call me Seungcheol"

You're so taken aback you miss the desperate "please" he adds in at the end of his sentence.

"Seungcheol,"

"sounds so pretty when you say it"

There's a pull between your bodies. It's gradual and painfully slow, but you both feel it. He leans in, eyes darting to your lips, and your eyes flutter closed.

Hot breaths fan your face as you wait for him to kiss you, each exhale burning against your skin.

"is this okay?" he murmurs.

You try to say yes, to say something, but all that comes out is a shaky exhale. Lips parted, lashes fluttering, you looked so pretty. He couldn't resist the way you drew him in.

Slowly inching closer, Seungcheol presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It's tentative, hesitant, almost, like he doesn't want to scare you away. His plump lips cradle yours so gently, it's like he's barely even there.

You draw back, breathing hard. "we shouldn'-" you start, turning your head away, before he cups your jaw and pulls you in once again.

This time he works urgently against you, sucking at your lower lip so fervently, it leaves you breathless. Any semblance of doubt leaves your mind, and you pull him closer, fisting his shirt.

It takes everything in you to hold yourself together when his tongue licks at the seam of your mouth, demanding entrance. While he explores the hollow of your mouth, your hands roam the expanse of his broad shoulders, feeling each hard-earned muscle tense under your touch.

Your lungs burn for air, pleading for sustenance, even for a second, but his grip on you stays firm, holding you in place. Feeling woozy from the lack of oxygen, you have to push him away, almost, fisting his hair with one hand and tugging him back.

Finally, you breathe.

"woah, there-" he grins, when your knees buckle, causing you to faceplant into his chest.

You groan, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"c'mon, let's get you home, hm? we should probably sit down and uh, talk." he mutters, motioning between you and him, "about this, I mean"

"yeah let's- let's go home"

The walk is surprisingly pleasant. Any expected awkwardness, any uncomfortable tension, seems to have vanished.

You chat as you walk side by side, Seungcheol holding Kkuma's leash while you hold onto his free arm. It's painfully domestic, honestly. Your heart thuds violently in your chest with every step you take with him.

"...and then she told Hansol to call her his cutie sexy baby- you should've seen the look on all our faces, I wanted to quit my job then and there-" he shivers as he narrates an incident to you, and you giggle away like a schoolgirl. The way Seungcheol made you smile so effortlessly was commendable. No matter when he showed up, what he said, where he was going, he always made you smile.

"poor him," you offer, sympathetically, grinning from ear to ear as you neared your apartment. "this is me,"

"if you're tired from today, we can talk sometime else, oka-"

You interrupt him with a tiny peck on his lips, earning a look of disbelief in response.

"god help me"

Which is how you've found yourself here- stumbling out of the elevator with his lips pressed on yours, hands grabbing feverishly at the flesh of your hips.

"wai- Seungcheol hold on-" you giggle, fumbling to thumb in your house code.

He backs away, pouting and looks down at Kkuma apologetically.

"come in"

There's a hint of tension in the air now, with everything becoming far more tangible than before. This is happening. This is real.

You beckon him over to the couch, letting Kkuma settle on a rug somewhere in the kitchen, slowly drifting to sleep.

He sits beside you, leaving respectful distance.

"I uh, I don't want this to seem like I'm just fucking around- I don't usually do this,"

"do what?"

"this" he motions between your bodies. "I've been wanting this, wanting you, for so long you have no idea"

"oh-" You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs. Seungcheol felt the same way you did? He's wanted you for all this time, just like you've wanted him?

"I'd like to take you out on a date. Properly. I really like you, y/n-"

It's a miracle you don't melt into a puddle of mush then and there.

Choi Seungcheol. Hot customer. Has feelings for you.

"and it's okay if you don't feel the same way- really- I just uh, didn't wanna kiss you and leave things unspecified"

"I-" you start, staring up at him as you searched for the right words to say, "I like you too"

His face softens, a soft smile taking over his lips. You feel an all too-familiar heat growing between your legs.

"I'm glad"

The distance between your bodies is bridged by his hand- a galiant soldier crossing borders into foreign territory. It slides over yours, interlacing your fingers in a firm knot.

A sharp breath puffs out your lips, and all you can do is say his name. You aren't sure why, you aren't sure what you're asking for, but you call him- your voice airy and desperate.

"Seungcheol,"

"hm?"

Words escape you. There's nothing you can find in yourself to say. You stare into his eyes, watching the way the brown of his irises hold your picture within them.

"oh, sweetheart..."

And his lips are on yours.

Seungcheol guides your hand to his shoulder, sliding his own to your waist as he draws you closer. The way your lips mold against each other is nothing short of perfect, like you were made for eachother.

He nips at your lower lip, dragging it as he pulls back ever so slightly, and you can't help but moan. He grins. Your face grows beet red and you pull away, panting, embarrassed.

"you're adorable, y'know that?"

"shut up"

"you've got a lotta attitude for someone who can't handle more than a little teasing"

"I- I can handle more" you argue, brows furrowing as you shuffle closer to him.

"oh?"

Your eyes widen.

"n-no I didn't mean it like tha-"

"like what?" he smirks. "how'd you mean it then?"

You lower your gaze, opting to stare instead at the fabric of his trousers. Seungcheol hooks a digit under your chin and tilts your head right back up, forcing you to look at him, cheeks burning.

"who're you hiding from, hm?"

"m'sorry," you breathe, looking at him through your lashes.

"I wanna make you feel good," he mumbles as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. "may I?"

It's a simple thing- asking for permission- but it has your heart fluttering. He asks you 'may I?' like he's at your mercy. Like you have him bewitched. He'd do anything and everything you ask of him, now more than ever.

You nod, leaning in to kiss him yet again, before he lifts you off the couch and into the bedroom. His strong arms hold you steady, and all your worries fade away. All the questions in your head dissipate, until all that's left is him.

Only him.

"this okay?" he murmurs, placing you on the bed.

"more than okay"

"I'm gonna take this off now, hm?" Deft hands slide up your torso, lifing your shirt off to reveal the lacy bra underneath. He has to pause for a moment to compose himself at the sight.

"so pretty,"

"Seungcheool" you whine, tugging his hands to your breasts, "touch me"

Any resolve he'd built up, to control himself for you, comes crumbling down.

Like a man starved, Seungcheol devours you, placing hungry, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach as he trails his lips to the cup of your bra.

He kisses the swell of your breasts, while his hand slides under your back, unclipping the garment with ungodly precision. You gasp when your nipples brush against the loosened fabric, sensitive and hard.

"fuck," he drawls when he tosses your bra aside to reveal your bare chest. Seungcheol kisses the tender skin, taking one of your nipples into his mouth while his hand caresses the other, pinching at the sensitive bud.

His actions elicit a whine on your part, back arching into him with every swivel of his tongue, every pinch of his fingers. There's a dark grin painted across his handsome face when he pulls away, looking down at you.

"look so pretty under me, sweetheart"

You turn away, bashfully, feeling small under the weight of his stare. It's hot, how Seungcheol's self-assurance radiates off of him. He's confident but not pushy, not arrogant like the other boys you've been with. The prolonged eye contact feels more intimate than anything you've ever experienced- just you and him, gazing at each other like the world outside is a problem for another day. Right now, nothing exists but the two of you.

A hand travels down the valley of your breasts to the hem of your pants, teasing the skin right under the waistband. He wants to savor this, to savor you. But god you're so desperate he can't bear the thought of dragging this out any longer.

"gonna make you feel good, yeah sweetheart? would you like that?"

"please" you whimper, rubbing your thighs together.

Anticipation swells in your belly as Seungcheol crawls down to face your cunt, keeping his eyes fixed on yours with each sultry motion. He grasps the button of your pants with his teeth, tugging it open before his hands slide them down your legs, fingers ghosting over the smooth flesh of your thighs.

"pretty, pretty girl"

Shamelessly, he spreads you open, rubbing along your slit through your soaked panties.

"fuck baby- you're dripping" he groans, pressing the fabric into your folds. Your body jerks at the touch, and you let out a pathetic whimper.

"all of this 'cause of me? such a good girl" he coos.

"all 'cause of you Cheol- fuck- only you"

That was it. Seungcheol considered himself a patient man, usually, but tonight? God, he wanted to rip those flimsy panties off of you and have you cum on his tongue again and again until you were crying.

In one swift motion, he leaves you bare, shoving your panties in his back pocket like some kind of trophy. His tongue finds your hole, dipping in just a little to collect your arousal before dragging it up to your clit.

"oh-"

You feel him grin against you, lapping at your clit slightly faster now. Your hands fly down to hold him in place, back arching as loud moans flood the room. You can't recall the last time a man has made you feel this good. Heck, you can't recall if they ever have.

"please- fuck don't stop don't stop," you whine, hips rolling up to match the rhythm of his tongue.

He groans when he realizes how you're using him for your pleasure, sending tingles across your skin.

"that's it, sweetheart- fuck that's my good girl" he mumbles against your cunt.

You feel your high approaching with the expert flick of Seungcheol's tongue, and you pull him closer in a desperate attempt to reach your orgasm. He senses you're close with the way your thighs begin to tense and quiver under his hold, so he slyly slips a finger into you, without warning, sending you straight over the edge in seconds.

Your voice breaks as you moan, head tipping back into the pillows as he pumps his finger in and out of your heat, working you through your orgasm.

"there we go, pretty- just like that, shit"

Seungcheol licks you clean, sending sparks shooting up your spine, before drawing back up to your lips to pull you into a messy, sticky kiss.

You taste yourself on his tongue, moaning as he licks into your mouth like he'd die if he didn't. The friction against your bare skin draws you back to reality, and you realize he's still clothed

"w-wait-" you pant, planting your hands on his chest.

He pulls away, eyes fluttering back open in confusion.

"what's wrong? d'you wanna sto-"

"no!" you interrupt, eyes widening. "not at all- I just..." you trail off, tugging at his shirt.

He chuckles.

"you just?"

"y'know" you reply, coy as ever, grasping his shirt once again.

"words, sweetheart, gotta tell me what you want" His voice is teasing, playful.

"your- your shirt..." you pout.

"mhm what about it?"

You glare up at him, brows setting into a deep frown. "don't be mean c'mon,"

"say it and I'll stop, promise"

"t-take your shirt off," you mutter, blushing wildly, "wanna see you"

He cocks a brow at you and you hastily add in a desperate "please", leaving him satisfied. Without wasting any more time, he settles back on his knees for a moment, yanking his shirt off to reveal his sculpted form.

Your mouth hangs open.

Sure, you figured he was fit- those arms were a dead giveaway- but this took the cake. Hard, chiseled muscles greeted you, sculpted by the gods themselves, and you felt your mouth water.

"oh wow" you breathe, reaching up to touch him and feel those muscles for yourself.

He grins, hovering back over you.

"perv"

"have I told you how much I like you?"

There's a pause, before you break out into a fit of giggles, grinning at each other like two lovesick teenagers.

Seungcheol shimmies his pants off too, kicking them away, leaving only his boxers on.

"are you gonna-"

"eat you out again? yes. yes I am."

You smack his chest, rolling your eyes.

"you can do that tomorrow- I wanna... wanna feel you," you whisper, "wanna feel you in me"

He mutters a quick "fuck" under his breath, hastily shoving his boxers down as he balances his weight on one arm.

"are you sure, sweetheart?"

"mhm"

"anytime you wanna stop jus-"

"just tell you, yes sir" you quip, rolling your eyes yet again, only this time, you take notice of the way his gaze darkens at your words.

Oh this is going to be fun.

"sir," you whine, rolling you hips up into his, "please- please fuck me I've been good, haven't I?"

You're unsure of where this sudden boost of confidence has come from, but Seungcheol's blown pupils and parted lips spur you on.

"I'll be so good for you, sir- promise," you pout.

"do you even- fuck do you even know what you're doing to me right now?"

"mhm"

"brat-" he snarls, dragging his cock against your folds. You moan, losing whatever semblance of power you managed to build.

"that's better,"

You're about to bite back, say something mean, but he interrupts, pushing his dick inside you, slow but firm.

"you're- fuck you're so big" you whimper, eyes welding themselves shut at the stretch of your walls. "it won't f-fit"

"I'll make it fit, I promise baby I won't hurt you, hm?"

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes when he pushes further. He was huge. Your toys had nothing on him. Nothing.

"shh sweetheart you're doing so well for me," he coos, pressing in until he bottoms out.

Your eyes brim over and you sniffle, trying to accomodate his size. It takes a minute, with him kissing your tears away and mumbling into your hair, but you finally give him the green light.

Automatically, his hips draw back and snap into you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. His size was overwhelming, almost. He hit your g-spot effortlessly with each inward motion, and your brain fuzzed over with pleasure.

All you could think, all you could say, was him.

seungcheol, seungcheol, seungcheol- you chanted his name like a prayer, any notions of god, of a higher being, leaving your mind with him taking their place.

He held your life in the palm of his hand, commanding metaphorical deaths with his body. You'd be happy to die in his arms every night, and rise like phoenixes with the sun- souls unified after the previous night's escapades.

The steady but firm edge to his thrusts have you sobbing, crying on his dick, begging for something even you aren't sure of. Your cries echo through the room, followed by the sound of skin on skin. Your neighbours won't like this one bit, you'll definitely be in trouble tomorrow, but you can't bring yourself to stop.

He just feels so good.

"s-seungcheol I- please m'so close please please ple-" you sob, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him even closer.

He leans into your lips, capturing them between his own. It isn't a kiss. Your mouths hang open, moaning and sighing into each other with breaths so hot you feel like you're on fire. Like you're alive.

Distracted by the heat generated by your enmeshed breaths, you fail to notice how his hand creeps down to your clit. You cry out when his fingers make contact with the sensitive flesh, rubbing tight circles into you as his thrusts increase in speed.

"m'gonna- sir m'gonna cu-" you moan, cutting yourself off when you feel your body slip into pleasure. Your throat has gone bone-dry, like the last time you touched water was when you were in the womb.

"shit-" he curses, using you to finish himself off, before quickly following suit and finishing on your thighs.

"you're so beautiful- you're so goddamn beautiful" he rambles, collapsing on top of you.

Your throat hurts, and all you can do is wheeze as you try to soothe your burning lungs.

He notices, and grins to himself, ripping his body off of yours- "wait here, I'll be back".

He's gone for a minute, before returning with a towel and some water. "here" he says, holding the glass to your lips as you shuffle to sit up, "drink."

While you do that, he crawls back between your legs and gently wipes away the mess he made on your thighs.

It's basic decency, you know it is, but you can't help the way your heart flutters at how caring Seungcheol is.

"thank you" you murmur, cringing at the sting in your throat.

He looks confused for a moment.

"f-for cleaning me up"

God you were so cute. He couldn't bear it any longer.

"I always will, you don't need to say anything, sweetheart"

You blush, for the nth time that night, grinning from ear to ear as you're hit with realisation.

Choi Seungcheol is officially off the market.

[razztazzel]

Dandys

SOOO… I’m now realizing I’ve never told anyone about this au!! I don’t even know if you guys know this is an au… LORE DROP!!! I usually call this au the marketable plushie au since it doesn’t have an exact name, but it’s still “Dandy’s World” regardless

So Basically, The main toons look differently than their canon looks which are kid friendly for marketing and TV shows, The handlers sometimes make the Original variant mains watch the smaller toons, Marketable dandy gets to run the shop with the Original (to the au) dandy but he’s too small to fit over the counter… hehe he’s so cute, anyway there’s no scary stuff no ichor problems no dandy fucking everything up and killing everyone, so to cut it short the ichor operation hasn’t happened yet

Dandy’s actually really strict with them, He wears gloves not only because he’s a gardener but because his claws are actually really sharp and he doesn’t want to hurt someone, And because every time he takes his gloves off toons are quick to ask omg do you paint ur nails… besides the point He’s keeping the little ones safe, Isn’t that cute!!! his gloves are like those thick rubber ones so he can’t accidentally break them.. I imagine the marketable toons are somewhere around 3 feet and the The original variants about 5 feet or a tad taller than that, like Astro and sprout is, For specific’s Astro is 5’6 and sprout is 5’4

So they’re not technically taller than grown adults but most likely taller than some short ones that’s for sure.. Their heights are lowkey the reasons why the marketable plush toons were made, And because sprout is too sarcastic for his own good…And they can’t even do anything about it because he purposely taught marketable sprout how to be just as sarcastic

The marketable variants are like the exact same as they are in the game! — And the mains are the only ones with an original variant, everyone else without the main rarity, besides dandy look the exact same as if they do canonically!

I draw this au ALLLLLLLL the time :3 I even drew an updated version of their older redesigns, though I’m too lazy to color it meeehhhhh, some changed a lot, some changed a little, and some didn’t change at all

[midnightarcheress]

it wasn't my initial plan but let's go stalker!gaz again <3

cw: nsfw. stalking. obsessive gaz. perv gaz in denial lol. f!reader. part one | part two

Kyle sees you again. it's totally coincidental, of course.

the first time was in the market. he had postponed a grocery run for far too long, and a man can’t live solely on takeout, so he headed to the nearest store. walking down the pavement, he sees the familiar blue logo across the street, the same one from your hoodie, and the image of your pearly smile comes fully into his mind for the first time after the encounter.

he had been too obsessive that day, and a part of him felt disgusted by his behaviour. he’s a good man, a good soldier, not one of the creeps in white vans studying women like a hunter waiting to attack their prey. so he shoved the temptation to search for you in the back of his brain, tucked away in a corner with the rest of his dysfunctional urges.

but the other side, the one he maintains caged when he’s home, kept calling for him, itching for the surface, almost slipping his fingers to his cell phone so he could engage in the pursuit of the sweet little thing that invaded his lustful dreams. a side that he managed to hide until his gaze laid on your form on the frozen food aisle.

you looked just as stunning as he remembered. glossy lips, pretty plush thighs, delicate fingers pushing the shopping cart around. your hair was in a ponytail, easy grab, sports bra neatly holding your soft tits, could be my hands, a small drop of sweat sneaking down your exposed lower back, the mere sight making his cock twitch in his trousers. of course you go to the gym. i can train with you. how about some hip thrusts with you on– no. he can’t be thinking like that again.

he bites back the urge to follow you. or even spark a conversation, to test if you’re good with faces. it would be weird. but then he gets lost in the movements of your hips, in how gorgeous you look slightly bent down at the waist, reaching for a lower shelf and prancing your ass up, in how easy it would be to cause you any harm in that position. wouldn’t even hear me sneaking up with those headphones on. 

the second time was outside of a cafe. he had just ordered a coffee and was waiting by the counter, aimlessly looking out the front window when he saw you, walking out of a bookstore with a big bag. hi, sweetheart. he promptly steps out the door, the barista calling his name fading in the background as he rushes to you. or at least, rushes to a safe distance from you. 

he wishes nothing more than to take the heavy bag from you, interlock his fingers with yours and stroll back to his flat like a perfectly happy couple. he’d even build bookshelves for you. buy you an entire library, if you wanted. make you tea while you read, caress your hair, lazily eat you out for hours, hearing your muffled moans as you try to remain focused– fuck, quit it, Garrick.

but he doesn’t quit. he can’t. not when you’re so beautiful, so easy, so soft. such a good girl. not when he notices some guys eyeing you up on the street and he silently curses the lack of a weapon on his hand. not when you look over your shoulder and don't see him as a threat. do you recognize me, love? not when he finally looks at his surroundings and realises that he’s in his street and that you’re entering the building across from his. 

he takes that discovery as a sign from the universe. it must be fate that you’re so close to me, right? it’s a blessing, a sign from god that his thoughts are justified. the green light he was waiting to reveal the worst part of him, to unleash the demon gnawing at his self-control.

with a few clicks, he finds all of your socials. too easy. some were restricted, some were open, and some barely had content, but he doesn’t mind, the few pictures on your instagram are enough. at another time, he’d teach you about online safety – how there are bad people out in the world who yearn for an easy catch, and how a smart girl like you shouldn’t allow it.

his dick aches in his boxers as he studies every pixel of your photos. he feels it throbbing, leaking, painfully craving for any kind of friction, but he refuses to provide. he knows that once he starts, he would never stop, and the idea of spending his cum on anywhere that isn’t you – your cute little mouth, displayed on your tummy, your warm cunt – is not worthy.

the third time was in a pub. he had finally caught you on your kitchen window, looking a little too dressed up to be staying at home and downing what seemed like a shot of vodka. so, when you stepped on the sidewalk, he knew he had to follow you. pretty girl going out at night? alone? not on my watch.

the bar is a couple blocks from where you live, known for being filled with college students. very different from his crowd, but he doesn’t care, watching you from afar acts like a remedy for the headache caused by the loud noise of the place. just a peek at your sheer blouse, exposing the lacy bra underneath was sufficient to clear his heart of any cracks. 

but, not everything is perfect, and he immediately tags the face making its way to you. Marcus. just as ugly as in the tiny contact picture he saw. fuck, is she back with him? 

he gets his answer quickly – you push him aside and go back to your friends, chugging the rest of your pint like a lifeline. good girl. the man's left with an open mouth and shocked expression, and Kyle doesn't miss the flash of anger in his eyes. 

the next few minutes are a blur. Marcus stepped out in the back for some fresh air after nearly throwing up due too many drinks, and he didn't notice the guy following him. stupid prick, should've used your brain. 

Kyle re-enters the bar in no time, thumb brushing the edge of the switchblade in his pocket. he admires you in your booth – lips parted in a laugh, locks of hair cascading on your face, and a hazy aura pairing over you. well, aren't we tipsy, sweetheart? good thing i'm here to look over you.

he heads to the counter to get a drink, and he almost jumps when you appear by his side, finishing your tab for the night. your eyes shine when they land on his, brightness shared by your wide grin, “hey, i know you! you're the plane guy!” 

you do recognize me. fate. he gives you a once over, feigning that he doesn't instantly recall your face to hide the excitement bubbling in his chest. like he hasn’t been dreaming about stuffing your pussy with his thick cock and hearing your mewls every night. “yup, that's me.”

“nice seeing you again– oh, are you alright? you got some,” you motion to his forearm, “blood on you.” 

shit. he forgot he needed to clean up after his last activity. his mind scrambles to find an excuse, but a thought pops in his brain and he can't contain the growing bulge in his pants. look at you worried about me, love. such a sweet girl. “it's nothing, i was just a little clumsy,” he brushes off, watching the concern on your face evolve into a timid smile, “you leaving already?” 

“yeah, got an early day tomorrow. shouldn't drink too much,” you answer, putting your jacket back on. he stays glaring at you, mind too blank to form a coherent sentence. alone? this late? drunk? do you even know how many men are lurking outside, waiting for a minor slip-up to rip you open? “so... goodnight, then.” you say, giving the counter one last tap and heading to the door. think fast.

“wait!” he calls out, “you shouldn't go alone, it isn't safe.” your head tilts to the side, and his eyes trail down your pretty neck, just begging to be bitten. focus, Garrick.

“it's just a couple blocks from here, it's alright.” no. no it isn't. don't be stubborn, sweetheart. do you want me to throw you over my shoulder for being a brat? give your pretty ass a slap?

his eyes narrow, but the soft smile on his lips does a damn good job of luring you in – a trick he learned over the years. “may i walk you home then? i'd hate to see something bad happen to a sweet girl like you.”

you ponder for a moment. you shouldn’t accept, he’s still a stranger, and if the alcohol wasn’t fuzzing your brain, you would say no. but his smile is so convincing, the dog tags around his neck are so reassuring of his good intentions that you don’t even notice when you nod. 

he smirks, and the tent between his legs gets even bigger. he’s such a good man. won’t let anything stain your soft, pure flesh. i’ll protect you, sweet girl.

[buckybarneswife125]

Thinking about beefy Bucky being domestic 😛😛

Buckle up folks, this is kinda long

You were in Bucharest, Romania to start over. You felt like you never really belonged anywhere you went. You finally find some purpose in Romania. You work as a barista in a small coffee shop. It’s run down and the pay isn’t great, but , it is only a block away from your apartment.

It’s where you meet Bucky. He walks in trying to be unnoticeable, but there is no way you couldn’t notice him, at least 6’4, bulging biceps filling out his red Henley in a delicious way, his plush, pink lips, his blue eyes, you were hooked from that moment.

He became a regular, you got to know him and eventually you to formed a tentative relationship. Your friendship grew into something more.

After much convincing you moved into his small apartment. He wanted to keep you safe. After he told you who he was; what he did for those seventy years, and after he was convinced that you wouldn’t leave he knew he needed to keep you near him.

It’s been about a year since you first met Bucky and you couldn’t be happier. Bucky woke up early to go to the farmers market to get groceries. When he came back you were still asleep on your shared cot on the floor. The sight of you laying there looking so peaceful; your lips parted slightly with soft snores escaping, he knew you were it for him. Hell, he knew the moment he saw you the first time in the coffee shop.

Bucky tapped your phone that was charging on the floor next to you so he could see the time: 9:23. He knew you wanted to wake up early so you could spend the day with him, being this is your day off.

He kneels down in front of the bed and peppers soft kisses to your face. You groan softly as you stir awake. He continues to pepper kisses on you but as now moved to your neck, softly kissing over the reddish purple marks he left last night.

“I love you,” Bucky whispers as he continues to kiss you. You finally blink your eyes open and a soft smile grows on your face. You kiss him softly and he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back. “I love you too,” you say as you pull away. Bucky’s smirk grows as he sees what you are wearing. The same red Henley that you first saw him in, he often pokes fun at how much you’re obsessed with that shirt, although it doesn’t fit quite like it used to.

Bucky moved his hand down to your growing bump, his large hand almost entirely covering it. “And I love you, little love,” Bucky says as he lifts up the shirt and kisses your round stomach.

Just then the baby kicked and Bucky knew that everything would be alright.

[ohworm-writes]

「✰」 ━━ NIKOLAI HEADCANONS

RATING R - Restricted [ Content Warnings : 18+ mdni, gn!m!f!reader, strong language, alcohol mention and consumption, fluff, possible mistranslation, spider mention, smut, dom!Nikolai, sub!reader, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, praise, degradation, masturbation, riding, hair pulling ]

SYNOPSIS Both general and romantic, safe for work and not safe for work, headcanons for, arguably, one of the most underrated Call of Duty: Modern Warfare characters to date - Nikolai. (This is my first time writing smut so any tips and feedback is greatly appreciated!)

WORD COUNT 1.2k

SAFE FOR WORK

His hands, and just his body overall, run naturally warm. Not to the point where he can be considered a "walking heater" or burning to the touch, but just exudes a constant warmness overall.

Dad-bod, no questions asked. He's not completely cut, not all hard surfaces and muscles - he's got a plush softness to him body that's equally as firm. He works out and keeps himself in shape, of course, because, granted, it's a given that comes with his profession, but he indulges himself equally as much.

He doesn't drink heavily, per se, setting a hard cut-off point for himself that he abides by like it's law, but he won't deny a drink if he's offered it. After all, drinking culture is big in Russia - he can hold his own just fine. That being said, vodka isn't his favorite, but he doesn't hate it by any means, either.

Acts of service and quality time are his love languages. He loves spending time with you whenever he can, especially considering how his profession can take him away for months and more at a time. If it's possible, you're always by his side or he's by yours. Will do anything you ask of him, too - be it chores, tasks, or anything else.

That being said, it can also be argued that giving gifts is one of his primary love languages, too. Any time he's out on a mission, he always tries to get you something from wherever he's been to - there are many perks to being a pilot, now aren't there?

He snores when he sleeps, and he sleeps heavy. Not to the point where you'd have to dump a bucket of ice water over him to wake him up, but to the point where you have to shake him vigorously to get him to slowly rouse. Sounds like a lawnmower when he snores.

His kisses are soft and slow, one hand on your waist or back, pulling you in, while the other holds your chin with such tenderness, guiding your lips to meet his, breathing out a heavy sigh as he relaxes into you.

Opts for Russian terms of endearment over English ones. It feels more personal to him, calling you something in his native tongue rather than something he hears everyone around him call their partners - it's more special to him.

Лапушка/Лапочка - Lapochka/Lapushka (sweetheart)

Любимая/Любимый - Lyubimaya/Lyubimyy (darling)

Surprisingly or not, he's actually a really good cook! He's traveled to so many places and tried so many different kinds of food so, naturally, he's learned to make them for himself. He downplays his abilities, but he looks like an absolute professional when he's in the kitchen.

When he's not away for work, he's actually quite domestic. He has a house of his own far away from everyone else in a remote little town, at least an hour or two outside of any major city. A cabin of sorts, with a place for his own little garden that he tends to (or, more accurately, which you tend to).

He even has his own little stall at the town's farmers market where he sells what he grows whenever it's ready. Everyone has so many theories about him because, honestly - why wouldn't they? A Russian man who lives at the edge of town in a big ol' house, disappearing for weeks or months at a time. It's a cause for concern.

He's so polite and he has the best manners, no question about it.

Though, to combat it, he can be quite a loose-canon. He's reckless and unethical in his methods, especially with work, but some aspects carry over to his personal and domestic life. (If there's a spider, he's pulling out his pistol first, not grabbing a book or a shoe).

He has this sarcastic, almost morbid sense of humor, smug as all hell (worse than Graves, more often than not) but he's genuinely just playful. He's a friend to everyone he meets and can easily match vibes with anyone.

NOT SAFE FOR WORK

Dominant in every sense of the word. He might let you act like you're in control from time to time, but he's quick to show you your place and has no shame in doing it.

His hands are always on you, no matter the occasion. He has to have some sort of physical contact when it comes to you. Be it a hand on the small of your back to guide you, on your shoulder to assure his presence, his leg touching yours when you sit down, a palm on your thigh as he drives.

One-hundred percent an ass man. Squeezing, slapping, spanking, groping - doesn't matter. If he can, his hand is there, no discussion.

He's an exhibitionist, easily. The risk of getting caught, whether if he's by himself or if he's with you, turns him on beyond belief - it gets his head spinning.

Helicopter sex! He's absolutely obsessed with getting you to ride him while he sits in the cockpit, holding onto your hips, fingers bruising into the skin, his legs spread wide with his jumper zipped down as far as it can go, fucking up into you as you bounce on his cock.

Jerks himself off in his helicopter too, biting down onto his fist as he fucks into his hand with purpose.

He's noisy! All grunts and growls, whispering to you how good you feel, practically narrating what he's doing sometimes.

It's a balance of praise and degradation that he gives. Sometimes it fifty-fifty, saying how you're taking him so well, like a good whore should. Sometimes it switches from one to the other (be it extremes or not) - it just depends.

Gives oral like it’s his job. Steady grip on your thighs, pushing them back and wide and buries himself between them for as long as you'll allow him to. He's so sloppy with it too, drooling and spitting all over you as he sucks you off/eats you out. (If you look close enough, you can tell it's started to bleach his beard, too).

Takes his time fucking you. He doesn't like quickies at all - if he isn't able to fuck you at the pace he wants, he isn't doing it. Now, this doesn't necessarily mean that he isn't up for hard and fast sex, but it's more so that he doesn't like time constraints.

More often than not, though, he goes slow (at least, at first), teasing you until you're begging before slowly pushing into you, dragging his cock in and out of you at an excruciating pace.

Speaking of, too, he's such a tease and he knows it.

Loves loves loves pulling and grabbing your hair, forcing you to arch your back as he pounds into you from behind relentlessly, watching the way your ass ripples with every snap of his hips.

Dumbification, too. Loves getting you all cock-drunk and fucked out to the point where you can't think for yourself, teasing you and borderline-mocking you as he slides a hand down your stomach, bringing his thumb down to your clit and making slow circles around it/grabbing the base of your cock and slowly stroking up and down it as he coos at you.

This goes hand in hand with overstimulation - loves making you cum over and over and over again until you can't think and it's too much, only to coax another orgasm out of you.

[ryiju-muunie]

broke toji and his gf start an onlyfans/make videos for phub for some extra cash to pay off their rent?

(love your work btw! <3)

U Like Magic? I Got a Wand!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Toji Fushiguro Warnings: DRABBLE, daddy kink, ball-gag, pornography/onlyfans, creampie, ahegao, wet and MESSSSSY, cumshot [breasts], nipple play, oral [male and female receiving] Word count: 638 DESC: Your boyfriend wants to make some extra money

Toji loved to fuck every part of you, and he loved doing it on camera. When he proposed the two of you start an Only Fans, you agreed and figured it would be a nice bonding moment between a healthy couple. He pounded you so well regularly, but for the camera, he always put on a bit of the show. Making you lick up his dick before he shoved it in your mouth, telling you to make more faces and whine a bit louder for Daddy. Toji loved it when you called him Daddy. It started as a marketing thing for the OF, right? But you couldn’t deny how you felt calling him your strong Daddy, and he couldn’t deny getting throbbingly aroused from hearing the words fall off your pretty little lips.

Your fans could sense you two really loved each other. And they could sense you really loved to be fucked like a good little whore. Doggy style, reverse cowgirl, sideways, you wanted him to do it all. Especially if your boyfriend got to fill you up for multiple rounds at a time and fuck his seed right back into your dripping pussy. You loved it the most when he’d initiate when you wore those tight outfits to tease him. Dropping something in front of him, and slowly bending over. Not kneeling, no, bending. Letting your breasts hang out of your tight shirt as your arms pressed them together. It was lighting a burning flame inside his lower stomach he needed quenched.

“C’mon baby…” One of Toji’s rough hands was tracing up your plush thighs, making your skin tickle as he started to play with the hem of your shorts, “Let Daddy show your fans how much he loves you…” Then he’d fuck you with his long tongue, making you cream loudly for his phone. The less-quality videos would be for a lower subscription, but they ate it up anyway. Your fans loved to see you holding the camera and watch as your boyfriend ate you out like a last meal. He always did, never getting tired of your perfect taste on his tongue, dripping from his chin. But sometimes, he’d get distracted and go in for a kiss. Knocking the camera out of your hands and sending your mouths crashing together.

Sometimes the two of you would post simple videos, make-out sessions, or him sucking on your breasts. It didn’t take long for any of those videos to turn into something more, but that didn’t need to be filmed. Your favorite was when Toji would force you onto his lap and grab your ass, digging his nails into your skin and biting your lower lip.

Mr. Zenin loved to show the world how you took him, too. He liked to record you teasing his bulge with delicate fingers, tracing his crotch as it grew and pressing down to make him let out a soft groan. Then you’d beg to take off his pants like the little whore you were, and let his dick spring out into your hands. Your blowjobs were one of the signatures of your joint OF account. How you’d grab his dick and seductively lick at the top, teasing his slit before taking him in your throat. It always felt so good your eyes started to cross as you bobbed up and down. Saliva fell from your lips around his swollen cock, as you thrust him into your mouth. He wasn’t even the one making all the noise, as you seemingly got off from mouth fucking him. Then when your boyfriend would come, it would be shots of hot cum all over your titties. Tits that you’d press together and palm just to make him hot and heavy as he came on your skin.

Safe to say, you guys were making money.

[pedrospatch]

wip wednesday

thank you for the tags angels 🤍 @mrsmando @honeyedmiller @mermaidgirl30 @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses

here are snippets of some of the many wips i am actively working on. or trying to anyway.

the gold room - dbf!joel x stripper!reader

“Jesus Christ.” Joel stares at you, using every last ounce of strength he has in his entire body not to let his gaze wander past your chin. He’s trying not to look at the way your skintight, neon pink dress hugs every soft, heavenly curve of your body, how the matching rhinestone garter shimmers around your deliciously plush thigh. “Is it even legal for you to be fuckin’ workin’ here?” Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms and shift your weight from one seven inch heel to the other.  “You can dance at eighteen,” you inform him. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m twenty one, Mr. Miller. So with all due respect, chill the fuck out, okay?” “You went to college—“ “College is fucking expensive,” you interject with a shrug. “The job market is shit and I don’t plan on drowning in my student debt for the next ten years. Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Don’t stand there and judge me. Don’t act like what I do is so terrible when you have been paying good fucking money for girls like me to dance for you and sit in your lap all night long.” “That’s fuckin’ different. None of those girls are my best friend’s daughter.”

flutter - post outbreak! joel x pregnant!reader

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the stove, you crack a couple eggs into another, knowing the kid was on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast. “Morning!” Ellie pipes, the plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you. “Ellie,” you warn, walking over to the table. “Don’t—” “You’re bigger!” With a playful glare, you set her plate down along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks, you little jerk,” you say, feigning offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.” “Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she starts to sputter. “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach—you didn’t look like this yesterday. You look great, just different.” She’s lucky your raging hormones decided to take the morning off.

chapter 10 for a safe haven

*this is just a short short snippet because it’s being heavily edited rn so i can post it soon!

He peels off his clothes, being careful not to further agitate his sore, inured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you sitting in bed under the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home.”

np tags! 🤍 @sugarcoated-lame @ozarkthedog @amanitacowboy @sp00kymulderr @ilovepedro @ezrasbirdie and anyone else who’d like to share their wips!

[tales-from-elysivm]

I saw your bakugou with sibling reader! I loved it and would like to ask for a continuation

Maybe when the reader gets their quirk? And how would the family and others react if it does turn out to be more powerful than his

★。／ plus ultra: echo burst! ＼。★

pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader (part two!)

(here's a link to part one if you haven't read it yet!)

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 5.4k

tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo, and some canon typical violence, unedited because i’m too tired for that-  (very little violence, only implied/mentioned, little baby y/n bakugo doesn’t need that–)

notes: this is my first fic sequel! on my old blog, i had a sequel planned out and requested of bakugo’s sibling ending up quirkless, so if anyone wants to see a secondary sequel about a quirkless!sibling as well, let me know! but of course, they/them pronouns for little sibling bakugo, and please enjoy! thank you again for requesting this fic anon!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

‘don’t touch that y/n.’

katsuki bakugo reluctantly holds onto the tiny, chubby hand of his little sibling, dragging them haphazardly through a crowded market aisle. despite being late to your appointment at the doctor, you had begged him to take you to get ice cream afterwards. your appointment had gone well, and mitsuki had demanded he do anything you wanted today.

he decides to let you loose in a merchandise store just off the side of the street. it’s the same one where you had gotten your all might onesie, and your favourite lunch boxes. he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same place deku got all his merch too.

looking around at the merch, he can’t help but think of your appointment, though it hadn’t really bothered him at all before now.

things were great. your joints in your little toe showed you would get your quirk at some point, it would develop, which would no doubt relieve his mother - she had long ago begun doubting whether you would end up quirkless, and the idea had concerned her until she had almost driven herself mad. but, according to him, you were fine. a quirk would come to you eventually, it just had to develop, and he told bakugo that things would be fine with a hearty smile on his round face.

it had made him think - he would only admit that it was briefly - what it would be. your quirk. would it be explosive like his own or would it be defensive or weaker? despite thinking of this too, he didn’t really have the heart - and he had one, deep down, for you - to think of his sibling any differently.

‘katsuki!’ you come running up to him, a round bandaid on your bare arm from the blood test you undertook. you cried a little, but toughed it up, your eyes still slightly red. in your arms is a soft midnight plush, and you hold it out to him with the biggest grin he’s probably ever seen. ‘can i get a midnight?’

he looks at it for a moment. he doesn’t even bother asking how much it might be before he deflates at the doe-eyed look you give your big brother. you walk him to the counter and hold his hand while he pays for your new plushee. one you definitely didn’t need.

with midnight plush in hand, you let him lead you out of the store.

bakugo isn’t stupid, he knows the city isn’t safe when it gets darker. he knows that villains lie on almost every corner, and that he can’t always predict when or where they might strike. he had let you drag him anywhere, and stupidly he followed. because what kind of brother would he be if he denied you? that’s how he ends up halfway across the city and carrying you home while you doze off on his shoulder. your midnight plush pressed tightly between your backs. but something passes overhead, a dark shape in the sky. a shop alarm rings out through the blackness of the street. the night lights flicker on. 

it’ll only take him about fifteen minutes to get you home. but even he can feel the slightest thrill of fear that sets in. a prickling on his skin. 

then a bin in the alley rattles and knocks over. from the quick flash he can see, it’s not one of the villains he’s seen before, or at least no one important enough to remember. his grip tightens around your legs, hoisting you higher on his back before he continues his walk home, his steps quickening despite himself.

your head lolls on his shoulder, your face pressed into his shirt.

‘kat? what’s wrong?’ he doesn’t answer you, only slides you onto the concrete quickly and hides you behind an alcove in the storefront. he makes sure you’re hidden by the foliage hanging overhead. ‘katsuki?’

‘stay here, ok?’ he tells you quietly, ruffling your hair a little bit to calm the panicked glaze in your eyes. it doesn’t work. his parents were always better at this stuff. ‘don’t make a sound.’

you’ve watched katsuki fight before. you’ve seen villain attacks that he got caught up with on the news, as a u.a student it’s almost expected. but this is different. you had never seen it in person. never felt the heat radiating off his explosions, seen the buildings behind this villain crumble on impact, never felt the ringing of your ears when it finally bursts. no, this is different. katsuki has only been hit once or twice, dodging the villains knives that seem to almost miraculously float around him, flying in any direction he pleases. it scares you, just how close it feels now. you don’t think you like it very much at all.

but then katsuki dodges one of those flying knives, and on his cheek a shallow wound oozes a trickle of blood. he wipes it away nonchalantly, like this happens all the time. you had never seen something like this, he was always patched up by the time he came home to see you. but this is terrifying. 

without a thought, you leap forward from the alcove, little legs pounding the pavement as you plant yourself in the space between katsuki and the villain. your little arms outstretched to protect your brother, your midnight plush clutched in your fists. fat tears roll down your round cheeks and your lip trembles.  the villain laughs at you, you think. and katsuki yells at you to reach cover again. maybe he barks out some threat, hoping it would scare you enough to run away. but it doesn’t. instead, you let yourself be curled into his arms and you hold midnight like a beacon. your crying erupts into earth-shattering screams.

a shockwave bursts from your fingers, the force pulsating in your skin and travelling up your arms. it hurts a little bit, makes your arms shake. your knees feel weak as you hold it, the bubble growing until it pins the villain against the alley wall. it crumbles under his weight, pushing his form against the brick. even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to let it go. 

‘y/n, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ katsuki soothes with a hand on your head, shielding your gaze from the villain as he finally falls limp to the floor. not quite dead, not yet at least. ‘let’s go home, yeah?’

you nod up at him, and the shockwave droops, it fades, becoming a small bubble around you and your brother, encasing you in safety as you play with the tips of midnight’s hair. 

katsuki doesn’t quite understand it immediately, but it clicks for him as he reaches the front step of your home, looking down at your sleeping form cradled in his arms, he realises just how powerful your quirk could be. your cheeks are red and splotchy from your crying before, and yet you look almost peaceful.

he moves aside your hair, and looks down at your face.

despite knowing you would always be an amazing hero, now he knew for sure. now he could probably brag that his little sibling was going to surpass even all might. 

maybe, he wouldn’t mind you surpassing him either, if you kept smiling like you had.

[tteokdoroki]

✩࿐TRACK 02: ONOFFONOFF. eijirou kirishima (2K)

about. by day, kirishima fights crime to keep everyone he loves safe. by night, you’re fighting to keep your relationship alive, even while everything else is crumbling to pieces.

warnings. minors, ageless and ageless blogs do not interact! suggestive, angst, hurt-comfort, hopeful/open ending, toxic relationships, dry humping, civillain + fem!reader, pro hero!kirishima.

things to note. happy saturday homies, i hope you enjoy this second instalment !! i adore writing angst pieces so it was nice to go back to that, enjoy mwah ! <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / playlist ✩

how could anyone ever hate eijirou kirishima. 

by day, he’s everybody’s favourite pro hero. though number five on the ranks, red riot has a comforting charm that dazzles the public. fear dissipates almost instantly whenever he was on the scene, as if there was never anything to be afraid of in the first place. he is calm while he works, caring. holding crying babies to his plush chest as he breaks through burning buildings, pulling dazed strangers out of the way of speeding cars, taking out criminals with brute force and bright banter. 

he’s wonderful with kids as well, which by extension, makes kirishima popular with the parents — often using their starry eyed little ones for a chance to get close to the bulky hero. of course, your boyfriend doesn’t realise. he doesn’t take note of the lingering touches during touching family photos with him, numbers slipped into his hero costume or how people lean against kirishima desperate for a messy signature to be scrawled across inappropriate parts of their bodies. 

eijirou is too nice to say no, to set boundaries. he’s warm and friendly — the perfect aura of sunshine. in some ways, you can understand the way the world almost revolves around him. why all the people and their planets make him the centre of the universe. after all, it’s part of the reason you ended up dating him. 

but the press adore him too, they really do. their beloved red riot is always willing to stop for interviews even when he’s busted and beaten, they love the way he leans down (all 6’5 of him) to hear the reporters better. they eat up the way he blushes and bumbles humbly whenever he’s asked about the status of his relationship. to which he answers “i wouldn’t say there’s anyone in particular that’s in the picture right now…” while sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, accidentally showing off his bulging muscles and firm chest. 

how could you ever hate eijirou kirishima. 

by night, he’s supposed to be yours and only yours. but you can smell floral perfumes on his collarbones from fans that get too close and you can feel the distance grow between you like an invisible barrier.

you hate that kirishima lies about your relationship to the public just as a ‘precaution’ when it’s clearly a ploy from eijirou’s marketing team to keep him the lovable, single, himbo hero. you hate that it makes you want to push him away. 

it’s not just you and him in this partnership. it’s you, eijirou and the whole world that eagerly watches his every move — and it’s starting to make you feel like a third wheel, like less of a priority, like more of an accessory.

you don’t know when loving eijirou kirishima becomes difficult and starts to feel like a chore — in your mind, you’re under appreciated. he comes home from work, sleeps, and leaves before the sun rises without giving you an ounce of attention (aside from the money dropped into your bank account as an apology). the dates that you plan become less frequent too, or when they do happen, kirishima leaves halfway through with a lopsided sorrowful grin. 

“the world isn’t gonna save itself, yanno. someone’s got to be on the scene.”

you fill the void in your heart with your work, spending time with friends who don’t offer the same comfort as your long-term partner and lazing about the house. but being alone gives you the space to begin resenting kirishima, giving into the toxic comparisons of your relationship against that of others — todoroki and his girlfriend are getting married soon, why aren’t you and eiji?

it’s not like you haven’t brought this up before, over quiet dinners interjected with snide remarks — it only ever leads to screaming matches that end with your throat raw and kirishima slamming doors so loud that the house shakes. but brought back together by the toxic cycle of love, you end up back in his bed and he ends up back inside you — taking root in your ribcage right where your heart lies, the thorns on his roses piercing the beating muscle. 

you cough up perfumed petals like you would blood, kirishima leaving fatal wounds on the inside  of your chest cavity. 

it doesn’t stop the way you so brokenly make love, tearing one another apart and piecing you back together like patchwork. 

“careful.” your boyfriend mumbles through swollen lips as they press against your own. he lets your tongue slide into his hot mouth, your noses pressed up against each other — breath ragged. 

your hands reach for eijirou’s shirt to tear through it. each of your movements are calculated to replace what traces from others linger on him. you pull, bite and scratch at golden skin that is already littered with scars from his battles. those where he protected the country he loved, the people who loved him. “slowly…” kirishima ushers, you gently, tilting his head back when you tug on the black roots of his hair to gain access to his neck.

“d-darling, what’s the hurry?”

you love him so much that you think you might hate him even more. he’s so perfect, he doesn’t colour outside of the lines, he touches you like you’re a house made of cards even though his fingertips set your entire body on fire.

blood rushes through your ears, carrying a heat that blossoms in your lower tummy and intoxicates kirishima as you kiss him again — teeth sinking into his lower lip until it bleeds. 

“c-can we talk?” kirishima stutters out as your tongue glides under his earlobe next and your hips slot against his perfectly, grinding down into his hardening cock. “w-what’s going on? fuck,” he curses, hips bucking up instinctively. “what’s going on with you?” 

“nothing.” stop talking.

“darlin’, you’re being a little rough…” shut up.

“you usually like that.” you utter breathlessly, switching sides to leave marks on the unmarred portions of his neck. 

this time, however, the red head grips your hips a little tighter — halting your movements and pushing you back so he can get a better look at your face. “baby, let’s just—“ 

“what, kirishima?” finally, you snap — glaring at him long and hard. “what could you possibly have to say now? that you can’t fuck me tonight because you’re too busy working? cause you’re busy thinking of bending over that pretty, ditzy little reporter from work today ‘cause she’s a little more tolerable than me? what is it eijirou?” you punctuate each of his words with a jab to his muscular shoulder, though the man is sturdy enough not to feel it. 

you’ve had this fight before, dozens of times and on more occasions than you can count on both hands. eijirou either tunes out to play innocent or he snaps  back with all teeth bared and fangs on display.

“you’re being unfair.” is all he says, tone dull and lifeless just like it’s been before. it’s like he’s given up on the two of you, not that you’d blame him. there’s no more fight left in the two of you for your love, only fuelled by the anger and resentment  you feel towards  each other. 

“what next? bet you’ll think i’m being unreasonable.” 

“you are being unreasonable.”

“oh i’m sorry, is that a problem for you? am i inconveniencing you, riot?” 

“come on, what’s with the attitude?” 

“excuse me?” 

kirishima exhales shakily, letting go of your hips to pinch the bridge of his nose. his ruby eyes shoot everywhere but you, he can’t even stand to look at you when arguments like this come up. those eyes of his, they carry too much shake and guilt.  “you always get like this. when i come home and i just want to be close to you and you get all…aggressive.” he spits out harshly, like the words are poison on his tongue, like he can’t stand to see what your love has soured into. “angry like you want to hurt me when i’m trying to love you.”

you scoff, rolling your own jewelled eyes. “love me? don’t make me laugh, eijirou. you don’t know the first thing about loving anyone except for you and your job.” 

“will you at least fucking explain what i did tonight, ‘cause i’d love to know what’s got you so bitter, sweetheart?” hurt echoes in his timbre voice. you wish that you could tell him, but you flounder for words and react with rage instead — how can you tell the man you wanted forever with that you hate the hero he’s become? 

“fuck you, red!” you stand, retaliating instead of communicating your needs properly. “fuck you, mister red ‘righteous’ riot, mister eijirou ‘incapable of doing wrong’ kirishima.” 

kirishima’s face crumples but he follows suit, standing, but he doesn’t make a move to come closer. “what’s your fucking problem? what did i do?” 

“the blame is never on you, is it?” 

“well i’d like to know why it should be! if you’d just—“

“it’s like you have no sense of accountability—“

“i’m trying—“ 

“—like honestly, fuck you, eijirou.” 

“you’re not letting me talk!” the redhead damn near screams, the base in his voice shaking your house, bouncing off the walls. he sounds drained, pained and no amount of medication can fix it. you’ve blackened his heart with scorch marks and danced amongst the flames and now you’re finally seeing that it’s not just you who this relationship is crushing. 

each word you spit kirishima cuts him into the shape you want him to be, wounding him deeper than any battle scar. 

“and you’re not letting me fucking breathe!” you shout back rather than listening to logic. it’s a low blow, you’re highly aware — a reference back to the early days of your relationship when kirishima overcompensated his absence for affection. he thought you’d worked through it. you liked to throw it back in his face when you were mad. you’re stubborn, you always have been, but for some reason you want to hit kirishima where it hurts. you want to cut him up into the perfect shape, until he feels exactly how you feel. 

when he finally makes a move, you become aware of his sheer size for the first time that night. eijirou would never hurt you, he couldn’t harm a fly even if he wanted to but that doesn’t mean you’re not scared of his presence. kirishima touches every corner of the room, his anger flooding through it and pushing you under so that you’re drowning in your own mistakes and his too. 

“you’re suffocating me too,” he mumbles, voice just above a whisper and you relax into his arms. “i’m trying so hard to be the man that you want me to be. you take so much, you want even more. you want a house and you want kids and i want to give you that too but you make it so hard. when you hurt me like this.” he’s being honest, the truth scratching at his throat as the pro-hero vocalises what you’ve failed to communicate for months. you’ve been selfish and he’s been avoidant, the pair of you only hurting one another, carving cuts so deep the wounds won’t heal and the blood won’t stop pouring unless either of you do something. and fast. 

“where do we go from here?” you don’t even realise that you’re crying until your boyfriend swipes the pad of his thumb underneath your eyes, leaving no time for the salty droplet to hit your skin. 

your teary gaze is tied to his as kirishima’s ruby eyes glisten under the moonlight. “i don’t know.” he hesitates. “i don’t want you to leave me. you need me.”

you whimper and curl up against his chest. “i don’t want that either.” 

kirishima wraps his arms around you like a safety blanket, shielding you from the ugly truth of your own relationship. it’s always on and off with the two of you, but this time you’re determined to make it work — you hope that he is too. 

“we have to work on this, on us.” he says firmly, but he squeezes you close as if you might disappear — holds you as if you’re a flower that might wilt if it’s touched. “none of this on and off, we…we gotta talk to each other from now on. yeah?” 

“yeah,” for the first time in months, you sink into kirishima’s touch — accept his rough edges and hardened shell, and turn your pain into a promise. “we will.” 

a promise to keep dancing together like it’s the first time even when the world around yourself and eijirou kirishima is burning.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[writingsonsaturn]

sleep aid - simon ‘ghost’ riley

{ masterlist }

🪐: this is absolutely not proofread and i haven’t written a fic in like 5 years lmfao pls forgive me

word count: 464

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Until Simon Riley came into the picture, instead of needing sleep’s warm embrace you had his, which you would argue was much better. Tonight wasn’t any different aside from the fact Simon wasn’t home yet, he was having a night out with the team, enjoying their infrequent time off.

As you laid in the darkness covering your shared room you allowed your mind to wonder, thinking of quite literally everything and anything, doing your best to doze off with no luck. Your busy mind was too loud to hear the sound of the front door click and heavy boots shuffling their way in. Simon took his coat off, hanging it on the hook that sat next to the door and setting his keys in the ceramic bowl you two had gotten from a flea market on your third date.

Finally, taking his boots off and making his way into the bedroom.

He as quietly as he could snuck into the bedroom, hastily shutting the door behind him and going into the bathroom to get ready for bed. You felt the bed dip, conforming to the weight of the brawny man, you had noticeably relaxed knowing your Simon was home and you could finally achieve the shut eye you had been reaching for.

“Darling” Simon’s low voice called out, at the sound you maneuvered your body to face him. He knew very well of your inability to rest and very quickly started searching for ways to help, new recipes, different types of teas, anything that could help you he searched high and low for. Later on in the relationship he realized his best remedy was himself.

Your tired eyes gazed at his, he spoke once more “having trouble again, lovie?” his tone ever so soft and attentive. “When am i not, Si” you sarcastically noted, his mouth slightly flickers up and arms slowly wrap around your body. The warmth in his touch causing your already droopy eyes to droop even more, “it’s okay my love, ‘ve gotcha” his accent thick with sleep.

He starts slowly rubbing up and down your back, drawing unidentified shapes into the plush of your skin. Hushedly telling you about all the fun him and the team got up to while at the pub, his soft whispers and weight of his calloused hands on your skin caused you to relax. Your mind becoming quiet, and breaths becoming slowed.

The sleep you had been longing for kindly approaches and you follow it through the dreamlands with a doozy smile, knowing you were safe in the hold of your lover.

[poetryandfluffycats]

51 Kisses

A/N: its mugis birthday! I wrote this brainrot in celebration

Pairing: Tsumugi Aoba x gn!reader

Content: Cuddle sessions with Tsumugi are mandatory after a long week of work

Warnings: a very small amount of biting, overall fluff

Words: 562

Oneshot under cut!

Tsumugis thighs were plush, round, so soft you could probably melt into them and merge with him for the rest of your life. If there was a market out there for human pillows, Tsumugi would be the number one seller. They were pale just like him, would flush pink whenever you traced your nails up and down them, and were currently littered in tiny, saliva coated teeth marks and bright red lines from where your head lay.

"Aha, (name)~" The bluenette below you let out yet another breathless, almost moan-like giggle as your mouth travelled up his inner thigh, leaving your marks of love along the way. "That tickles! Please don't bite me so hard, I need these!"

You giggled alongside him, continuing your ministrations anyway despite his whines of protest. "You'll be alright"

It wasn't often the two of you got moments like these. Times when you could sit still and enjoy each other to the fullest like how couples were meant to, laze around in your underwear and cuddle into the late hours of the night.

Cliche as it was, Tsumugi was quite often busy with his idol work, as were you with your studies, so when you did get time to yourselves you savoured it like a fine wine. Sometimes with sex, other times with the intimacy of being close contact with each other. Tonight was the latter, and you were more than enjoying it.

His presence was nice, you felt. The whole dorm smelt of him, coffee beans and freshly washed linen. A homely smell, like a breath of fresh air in the craziness of the world, or like a catnip smell louring you in to something safe and warm.

"You're staring"

"You're pretty"

Tsumugi flushed red at the compliment, eyes darting away from yours. He had always been like that, getting bashful at the smallest praise from you. "You're prettier, silly"

One of his fingers twirled around a strand of your hair as he spoke. The look of admiration on his face could have made your heart melt, and his smile. Oh Lord, his smile.

He had dimples when he smiled, it was a fact of him you knew well, having traced the dips in his skin time and time again. That stupid, big and dopey grin that reached from his mouth all the way up to the tips of his ears had you falling in love all over again, like a love struck teenager watching their favourite idol on the stage.

Maybe that analogy wasn't too far off from the truth.

"Kiss me?" You childishly asked, resting your chin on his tummy and looking upwards at him with wide eyes, the eyes that had him melting just as you had been. "Mugi?"

The man hummed in response, smile never leaving his lips as he leaned down to capture yours. It wasn't a long kiss, but it was sweet, gentle, and oh so loving. When he pulled away, you found yourself chasing after him, climbing up into his lap and clinging onto him like a koala.

"Again!"

"Again? That's like the 50th time tonight!" He chuckled, "You're a bit greedy, aren't you?"

"Mugi, again"

"Bossy too, huh? The things I do for you"

A fit of giggles escaped from both of your lips, and then he was kissing you once more, for the 51st time that night.

[marvelmythic]

So I'm currently working on a little Bucky x reader fic with roommate!Bucky and I've been talking about it to @buckymorelikefuckme (and she is literally such a gem for listening to me ramble about this shit for weeks when it's not even done haha) but I wanted to share a little snip from it because I'm just super excited 😅 So without further ado...

A few months later, the apartment was starting to feel much more like home to both of you. Together you’d gone to a furniture store and picked out a comfortable sofa with enough room for both of you to stretch out. You picked up some dishes at a thrift shop, carefully choosing the mismatched pieces so they felt intentional and eclectic rather than cobbled together like a college student with no money. You didn’t need anything fancy, but it would be nice to stop using paper plates, especially for spaghetti nights and Saturday morning pancakes. A small wooden bookshelf you’d stumbled across at the flea market now sat next to the TV and held a small collection of used paperbacks.  Since you’d moved in, you’d been saving for a proper mattress. The bedframe was a vintage wooden piece you’d gotten for a steal, but the mattress itself was luxuriously comfortable and the back pain you’d been living with since you’d returned from The Blip had vanished almost immediately. After listening to you rave about how comfortable it was, Bucky caved and got one too. The look on his face the next morning and the lack of dark circles under his eyes told you everything you needed to know and you bit back a smile. After the nightmare, physical affection had become normal between you. Bucky, who clearly hadn’t experienced much gentle, affectionate touch since the 1940s, melted into your hugs. Your movie nights now featured cuddles on the plush sofa and a couple of times, accidental naps on warm afternoons. It was the happiest either of you could remember being in a long time, but being so close to Bucky wasn’t doing a damn thing to lessen the massive crush you had on him. It wasn’t easy to put aside your feelings for the man who had become your best friend, but you did your best and went on a series of mostly unsuccessful first dates. It was hard not to compare every guy to Bucky, and none of them measured up. To make matters even more complicated, he would wait up for you whenever you went out in the evenings to make sure you returned home safe. You’d told him several times that he didn’t need to do that—despite the fact that you absolutely loved it—but he wouldn’t hear it. “You think I’m not going to make sure my best girl gets home safe?” he asked incredulously after you’d once told him not to wait up. You’d rolled your eyes at that and tried to suppress a smile, but you could still feel the butterflies when you thought about him calling you his best girl.

Soooo yeah I hope y'all like this little excerpt! I'm so excited to share this fic. It's extremely personal to me and I hope people will enjoy it too!

[iamthekaijuking]

Gigabash character overview: Woolley

It’s pretty common for media to have at least one adorable and marketable character, and Passion Republic Games have one for Gigabash. Being one of the four initial kaiju developed, Woolley was made to be cute and likable. He even had a promotional plush of his S-class form sold in the lead up to the game’s release!

Woolley is a slightly more defensive character with some quick movement options, a counterattack move, and two attacks that are impossible to block and require good timing to stop. He’s got a high skill ceiling and pulling off extensive combos can be tricky. But like with every character in Gigabash’s roster, he’s deadly in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing.

Design

PRG took awhile to get a good design to settle on with Woolley, as they wanted him to be cute and likable all around and have a simple silhouette that was easily recognizable. Like Gorogong and Pipijuras, he went through multiple design revisions.

While there’s no direct statement on if any particular kaiju inspired Woolley’s design, he does bear a passing resemblance to another popular Tsuburaya icon: Booska.

Lore

Woolley is just one member of a species of kaiju known as the Yetis, peaceful kaiju who live in herds where they sleep and play all day and subsist entirely on Giga Energy. The reports on his character file actually give us insight into the evolution of his species, and how kaiju might evolve in the world of Gigabash.

Yetis are descendants of a small mammal with thick fur that migrated to the Himalayas sometime in the Pleistocene Epoch. Here they also used local hot springs to help stay warm, but these hot springs were connected to underground veins of Giga Energy. As they were gradually exposed to the substance, they slowly became larger and larger over subsequent generations and came to rely less and less on food for energy. In only a few million years they became 120 ton titans. They remained there until near modern day, and for the local humans it was common practice to go and collect shed Yeti fur to be used in the creation of coats.

At some point though, these Giga Energy veins ran dry, and this forced them to search for a new home. At least some of them migrated to a remote place in Siberia surrounded by mountains that has been dubbed the Yeti Sanctuary, and is rich with hot springs and Giga Energy. It even has an entrance to the hollow earth! The same one Pipijuras uses in his story mode too.

Woolley’s story mode revolves around him getting lost and trying to get home. One day he sees planes flying overhead and follows them out of curiosity, but gets lost in the process.

In his effort to go home he actually goes the opposite direction of where he came and gets increasingly distracted on his adventure, ping ponging across the world and interrupting the events of Pipijuras and Gorogong’s story modes.

It’s during this story mode we learn about a somewhat important location and information about the Yetis, another kaiju we’ll eventually get to, and kaiju as a whole in the world of Gigabash.

The area, which is one of the maps, is the Power Station, a section of Area 51 which seeks to figure out how to properly harness Giga Energy. As you’re aware, humanity has been trying to harness Giga Energy, but they’re having difficulties. Like with almost all of humanity’s power sources, in order to get electricity out of it you need to figure out a way to get it to turn a turbine that can spin a magnet around some electrical wires. This gets electrons flowing and thus generates electricity, and this is the basic principle of creating usable electricity. Apparently it’s hard to get Giga Energy to do this safely, although what part of the process is difficult to do with Giga Energy is never said. Only Otama Tec has figured out how to get this to work with the creation of their Gigatron Reactor, and they’re not keen to share their discoveries for reasons we’ll get to in the next overview. So the Global Titan Defense Initiative, being the dickwads they are, did a little corporate espionage and stole the blueprints of an earlier more theoretical version of the Gigatron Reactor and created the Power Station to test it out and improve it. It uses Giga Crystals (again, we’ll get to it) as the main source of Giga Energy, but kaiju can apparently be used as well since in his story mode Woolley gets captured and chained up to meet this fate. However, the Power Station is riddled with issues in no small part due to the sheer power of Giga Energy. It’s so dangerous that the GTDI makes any employees working there unsubscribe from their life insurance because of course they would do that.

As Woolley travels around the world, he meets entirely new herds of Yetis on his travels in every major location he stops at. These Yetis all have different colorations than Woolley and his herd, and are described as subspecies. It’s pretty likely that when the Yetis migrated from the Himalayas, the population split up in their search for sources of Giga Energy, and these different populations diverged from each other. They aren’t entirely isolated though as a few are aware of each other’s existence and point Woolley in each other’s direction, and it seems that Yetis as a whole have a shared language.

This brings us to something that’s never really explicitly stated but is shown to us and is obvious in hindsight; the kaiju in the world of Gigabash are sapient. The game is a party fighting game so obviously they would have to be smart in universe in order to have battle strategies and know how to use city infrastructure as tools and weapons as the player demands, but it’s one of those things where you realize it and go “Oh, yeah that makes a lot of sense… why didn’t I realize it until now?”. The Yetis in particular have even learned how to use fire, although they use burning vehicles as fuel instead of dry wood.

This shot also shows that Yetis can go bald. Like and reblog this post to slap the elder yeti’s bald head.

Woolley’s story concludes with him staying focused and retracting his steps (which gives us a lot of fun pictures) and eventually finding his way home.

There is of course one last fight, but it turns out that the other Yetis he met decided to follow him, and end up helping in defending his home. Afterwards they end up integrating with the Siberian herd quite well! Even though Woolley spent his story trying to get back to his family, it’s sweet to know that his efforts gave him an even bigger one.

All in all, Woolley is a great character and is a fun and adorable addition to Gigabash’s roster, and his story mode is sweet.

Also I don’t really know where else to put this but lore tidbit: in the Gigabash universe it’s implied the Soviet Union fell but Russia is still a communist country unlike the capitalist IRL Russia. They’re a dictatorship like IRL Russia though.

[slutforalastor]

Say It With A Smile, Part 3

Most of the hotel's inhabitants have cleared out of the grand hall, leaving it serenely quiet; even your footsteps are muffled by the plush carpets snaking down the stairwell. The demon behind the bar remains at his post, dutifully drying mugs and drinking glasses laid out across the counter. His eyes are on the cloth, but his mind is on something else, his smooth, deep voice humming out a low tune. He's so preoccupied that he doesn't notice you until you sit down at a stool a little ways down from him. "Ah, sorry, I didn't expect anyone down this late. Just finishing up. Looking for a drink?"

You apologize for interrupting him, and say that you're more in the market for food than drink.

"Hey, keep those 'sorry's for someone who really deserves an apology. Company's always better when you're working, anyhow. I'm not much of a cook, but I'm sure I can scrounge up something for you. You have any… particularities I should know about?"

You tell him your preferences, and after a moment's thought, he busies himself with the rudimentary kitchen tools in the area behind the bar. While he's busy seasoning and sautéing, he multitasks with continued conversation. "So, what brought you here?"

"I got hit by a bus."

"What, was the bus on the way to the Hotel? Oh, you thought I meant what brought you to Hell." He laughs to himself, giving a little shake of his head. "Nah, I meant what brings you to the Hotel."

"I guess… I was just looking for someplace safe. It seems like everyone treats Hell like a contest they're going to win. I don't want to win anything, I just want to try to enjoy whatever time I've got left. I wasn't ever sure if there was something after death, but I'm not going to accept it being as hard as life up there was."

Husk gives you an approving nod, taking a moment to focus on the preparation. Once he's got your food to a simmer, the wafting scent making your stomach rattle with hunger, he's back in the conversation. "Well said. I think you're going to fit in just fine, then. Had much of a chance to meet anyone besides me?"

"That tall red demon showed me around. He's… very interesting."

Magnetic is a better way to describe him. It's difficult to explain his aura, but its polarity seems fine-tuned to your frequency, the kind of thing that can needle its way past the boundaries you'd spent a lifetime defining. The kind of thing that can pull you in from any distance.

Husk has different ideas, if the bristling of his fur at the mention of Alastor is any indication. "Listen, kid, you seem like a decent person, so let me tell you something: Alastor doesn't have many uses for decent people. The ones he does are things you don't want to be involved in. Sure, he'll be polite and charming, but the moment you do anything to cross him, or make him think you've got a trick up your sleeve, you'll have bought your ticket out of this afterlife, and even gamblers know better than to bet on a third chance."

You're a little confused. You can easily believe that he's an eccentric, maybe even with a violent streak, but it seems like all you'd have to do is just stay on his good side. Would he be here if he didn't have some restraint?

"Yeah, restraint's something he's gotten real good at. And manipulation's another. Don't think you'll be an exception; even the Princess ain't immune to him." Husk passes you a steaming plate of food, the most perfect-looking dive-bar fare this side of the Pentagram to your ravenous eyes. You're already digging in when he finishes his thought. "Just… watch your step around him, okay? You said Hell feels like a contest, and let me tell you, no one's more of a sore loser than him. And if he asks you to make a deal, give it some thought until the thought is that you shouldn't do it. Hell's a bad place to bring regrets."

Your mouth's too full to respond, so all you can do is think. Husk wouldn't have much to gain from starting drama, but the impression he gave of Alastor wasn't quite the one you'd gotten. But he had definitely known him for longer than you did. Then again, what was he still doing here if he was such a problem? Maybe you'd do well to just keep your guard up, maybe take both demon's words with a grain of salt. Pushing your cleaned plate back towards the bar's side, you thank Husk for the meal.

"Anytime, kid. And seriously, keep what I said in mind."

You will. But something Alastor said is in your mind as well. The haze you used to construct your space was very helpful for the basics, but it wouldn't make for very good sheets or pillows. In short, you have need of something, and his radio tower isn't much of a walk.

***

The stairs to Alastor's tower wait at the end of a lonely hallway, the atmosphere promptly changing from an upscale, classy getaway to a time capsule that makes you feel more like you're in a museum than anything else. The stairwell, alight with dramatic shadows from the gaslamps lining the walls, is a winding spiral hewn from wood. The steps are wide and low, angular like the smile of the demon they convey you to. Every inch of the walls not occupied by a lamp is papered with flyers for nickelodeon showings, radio host appearances, and antique receiver accessories, the air tinged with the ozone smell of electric power scorching the air around it. At the top, his door, locked with a peculiar mechanism mimicking the tunings knobs of old-fashioned radios, waited. A telephone handset was mounted to the door, the old-fashioned kind that had a separate piece for listening attached to the box, and a receiver for speaking into.

There isn't really a need to use it, though, because the door is ever so slightly ajar. You knock on it, the force enough to widen the gap a bit. Your wandering eye catches a glimpse of him in the room beyond; his waistcoat is draped across a chair that's settled before a massive broadcasting console, the glass beyond offering little more in your limited view than the deep maroon sky of Hell. Far more eyecatching, though, is the host of your hotel, sat on the edge of the bed with the cleaning demon from before winding a bandage around his midsection. His body is stitched with scars, the taupe tissue standing out against his beige skin. His head is down, but his eyes still give a soft glow, enough for you to see that even now, that grin remains.

You reel back, realizing you might be seeing more than you should. The rush of a shadow moving through ether confirms your fear, the Radio Demon rising to his full height inches from your face, his narrowed brow conveying what his sneer does not allow him to. "I heard your knock, little fawn. And I heard your heart speed up, like you know you're being hunted." His ears twitch, a raised hand crashing into the wall a hair's breadth away from your head, the rest of his body boxing you in. "You weren't supposed to see that, you know."

You don't know why. He's just getting an injury bandaged.

"No one should be able to hurt me. No one should be able to weaken me. No one can know." The static that punctuates every syllable is growing sharper, the crackling increasing in frequency. His antlers are growing steadily, his limbs beginning to contort, stretching thinner. For a moment that spans the length of a nightmare, you feel your imminent death at the end of his lengthening claws. He breathes deep, inhaling the fear coursing down your body. Then, mercifully, he recedes. His body settles back to something more familiar, his scorn softening. "But you… You're a stranger, aren't you? You're not even enough of a somebody to be a has-been. You're no threat to me, are you little fawn?"

Quivering in residual fear, you shake your head no, of course not, you're a nobody. He doesn't even know your name.

"I don't! Well, how very rude of me. To make it up to you, why don't you join me for tea? There's something I think I'd like to discuss with you."

With a widening smile and a firm hand on your back, he guides you into his chamber, the door behind you shutting firmly.

-------------

Also on AO3! | Part 1 | Part 2 |

(I want to thank everyone for reading, liking, reblogging, etc. This is the most attention I think I've ever gotten for my writing and it does wonders for the self esteem. I'm grateful ❤️)

[mycoins]

I saw your Gungeon post on backloggd, any opinion on Noita?

Noita fixes most every problem I have with gungeon by way of creating a much more methodical pace. it's esoteric and arcane and unfolds as you play and experience it. fits the whole youre a wizard shtick.

also even though both games are frantic in their action, there's a lot more understatement to the actual artistry facing the player that is present in noita. the music is genuinely excellent as opposed to gungeon's very loud, bombastic, safe and marketable doseone videogame ost ass videogame ost. the visuals are less cutesy and plush, the effects are vibrant in both but there are more unique flourishes in noita.

the wand crafting is much more engaging than any of the guns in gungeon, too.