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jetii · 29 days

Text

On Impulse

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 10,703

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends to lovers, kind of enemies to lovers? but in a goofy silly way, Tech's autism rizz, fluff, arguing as a form of flirting, smut, thigh riding, unprotected sex, fingering, semi-public sex, naked female clothed male

Summary: You've made it your personal mission to convince Tech that letting loose and taking risks for the sake of fun can be a good thing. During your day off on Coruscant, your efforts are unexpectedly rewarded.

A/N: There's no excuse for this I just love writing feral Tech. Also wow! 400 followers! Hello! Thanks for being here.

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Tech knows he can be a little... much.

It's not really his fault. The Kaminoans who designed him and his brothers didn't really think to account for things like social awareness, or tact, or "when not to talk." All they programmed him with was an insatiable thirst for information and a single-minded desire to be useful.

The others in the squad had been able to pick things up on the way, seeming to possess a natural sense for the sort of thing one says or does at any given time. Tech, though, just doesn't have that. He has a brain that's constantly running and processing data, and an all-consuming need to do something about it.

So he can't help it that his mouth tends to get away from him when he's excited. The information just comes pouring out.

His brothers call it a data dump.

The Kaminoans call it an unfortunate defect in his otherwise exceptional programming.

But you call it charming.

"And furthermore," Tech is ranting, following you as you walk through the halls of the Senate building, “the use of such a heavy gauge power coupling is inefficient and a waste of valuable resources which could be better spent in other areas. The new couplings are half the size, and can be manufactured on-planet instead of having to be shipped from across the galaxy."

"Not my fault if you were wrong, Tech," you toss over your shoulder at him, smirking as he splutters in offense.

"Wrong?!" he repeats, sounding aghast at the mere suggestion. "I don't think so."

You roll your eyes, but there's a fond smile on your lips. Tech is a genius, really, he is. But his ego is sometimes as big as his brain, and you love to wind him up a bit.

He gets so flustered and huffy and cute when you do, and you can't resist. He's just too adorable not to tease a little. So you keep walking, even though you've long ago lost track of where you're actually going.

"I mean, I can admit when I'm wrong," you go on, slowing your pace just a bit. "It's a sign of a healthy psyche."

Tech scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, and you bite back a laugh. He's wearing his full armor, minus his helmet, and it only adds to the ridiculousness of the moment. The two of you are quite the duo, sticking out like a pair of sore thumbs among the throngs of politicians and Senators going about their daily business.

You'd thought this outing would be something fun, an opportunity to get Tech out of the Marauder for a bit. You know that he gets antsy, and he loves nothing more than a good lecture or an impromptu lesson.

Plus, it was your off day, and you wanted to spend some time with him, since you knew he was only planning to hole up in his bunk and work on fixing up some broken circuit board or another. Not the most thrilling way to spend an afternoon.

And you can't even count the number of times you've come back to the Marauder, only to find him elbow-deep in some project, surrounded by scrap parts and wires and tools and completely oblivious to the world.

That's fine, though, really. It's just who he is, and you know better than to interrupt, but you can't deny you like it better when his brain is occupied with you instead.

The way he lights up when he gets the chance to talk about whatever is on his mind is endearing, and you love listening to him speak. You'll take Tech the lecturer over Tech the hermit any day.

So, you'd come to the Senate to let him geek out. One of your friends was an assistant to a Senator, and you'd asked if you could give Tech a tour. It was more of a chance for Tech to give you a tour, actually, because you were clueless, and he knew exactly where to go and what to see. But he doesn't know that.

What had started out as your attempt at tricking Tech into a date has quickly turned into another argument, but that's nothing new between the two of you.

It's become your routine, something you've done since the first time you met. You and Tech bickering about this and that, teasing and mocking each other but with a light in your eyes and a smile on your faces. Sometimes it feels like it's the only way the two of you communicate.

You can't even remember now what the first fight had been about. But you know that he had said something blunt and off-hand, and you'd gotten offended and given him a piece of your mind. He'd argued back, and the two of you had gone back and forth until you had run out of steam.

It's what always happens.

But you had seen a glimmer of something in Tech's eyes that day, and when he'd started arguing back, there had been a spark there. It wasn't boredom, or apathy. It was excitement, passion, a fire in him that you had never seen in anyone else before.

He had liked it.

You had, too.

And that's when the real games had started.

It's not the same now. You've gotten used to each other, and you can tell when he's trying to rile you up. He does the same thing every time. He'll say something rude, or condescending, and you'll shoot him a dirty look and a sharp comment. Then, he'll say something even more rude and condescending, and then, finally, you'll lose your temper, and the two of you will bicker and banter until the both of you have worked through whatever is bothering you.

It's kind of like therapy.

Or foreplay.

Maybe a little of both.

And now, here the two of you are, doing it again. You're wandering the halls, not even paying attention to where you're going anymore. You're far too distracted by the way Tech's brow is furrowing in concentration as he thinks of how to prove himself right, and the way his nose is wrinkling in irritation at your constant teasing.

You're both enjoying this a little too much.

"I assure you, my psyche is perfectly healthy," Tech is saying as he follows behind you, and you grin at him over your shoulder.

"I don't know, Tech," you taunt. "I can't help but notice how much you love being right. That sounds like a classic case of an inflated ego to me."

He scoffs.

"My ego is perfectly sized, thank you," he tells you, his tone haughty. "It's not my fault that my intelligence is far superior to the vast majority of beings in the galaxy."

"Oh, and humble, too," you add, rolling your eyes. "My mistake."

He ignores your quip, still following you down the corridor, his steps slowing just a bit.

"Where are we going, anyway?" he asks, peering at you curiously. "This isn't the way back to the hangar."

You smirk, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Tech nearly runs into you, stopping short at the last moment, and the two of you stand only inches apart, your face turned up to his. He's almost a full foot taller than you, and the way he's staring down at you makes your heart beat a little faster. He's not smiling, not really, but you can see the amusement in his eyes.

"We're not going back to the hangar," you inform him, and his expression changes to one of confusion.

"Then where are we going?"

You don't answer. Instead, you grab him by the wrist, pulling him after you as you continue walking. "I have something else in mind."

He stumbles after you, tripping over his own feet in his hurry to keep up with your sudden change of pace.

"Where are we going?" he repeats, his tone slightly higher than usual. He sounds flustered, and you can't help the little laugh that slips past your lips.

"You'll see," is all you say.

He grumbles, but follows along nonetheless, allowing you to tug him after you.

"We don't have time for detours," he tries.

"We made a detour for power couplings, didn't we?" you counter. "What's the difference?"

"A power coupling is a necessary component of the Marauder's hyperdrive," he protests. "A 'detour' is merely a waste of time."

"But the ones we had were just fine," you argue, still pulling him along.

"Just fine is not good enough," he replies. "I will prove it to you. Once I have the new couplings installed, I will run a simulation, and you will see how much more efficiently the Marauder will perform. You will admit that I was correct."

You can't help but laugh at his self-assurance.

"If you say so," you tease.

"I do say so," he counters. "I am a man of science, and I always back up my claims with evidence. If I say something is fact, it is a fact."

You snicker again, and Tech glares down at you.

"You can be rather vexing," he says with a sigh of resignation.

"I try."

He rolls his eyes, but you catch the hint of a smile on his lips.

"I'm sure you do," he mutters, and you bite back a grin.

You love teasing Tech, but not just him. You like doing it to the others, too, especially when they least expect it. You have a reputation for being sweet and innocent and nice, but the truth is, you can be just as devious as the rest of them when you want to be.

You just choose your targets more carefully, and Tech is the perfect victim.

He's so serious, and so uptight, and so easy to get worked up. It's a challenge, keeping up with him and his constant rants and lectures, but you're nothing if not determined, and you have a lot of fun doing it.

But your favorite is the way Tech will get so frustrated and worked up, and then, once he's exhausted himself, and he knows that you're not going to change your mind, he'll start grumbling. And pouting.

And it's just the cutest thing in the world.

You don't mean to upset him, or anything, but the way he puffs up like an angry bird when you challenge him is just adorable, and you can't help yourself. You just can't stop.

And if the way he's looking at you is any indication, he can't stop, either.

"Oh, come on, Tech," you chuckle. "Lighten up a bit. Today is supposed to be fun. We're on Coruscant, there's nothing dangerous happening, and the weather is actually nice for a change. Just try and enjoy yourself a little."

"I am enjoying myself," he argues.

"By arguing with me?" you counter.

Tech looks down at you, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. He doesn't look as irritated anymore, and there's a twinkle in his eyes that tells you that he's having a good time. He's enjoying himself, despite his protests, and he knows that you're onto him.

"Yes. I enjoy our debates," he answers simply. He pauses, then adds, "Though I would hardly consider it a debate. It is a mere fact that the new couplings are better than the old ones."

You roll your eyes, and Tech's lips twitch at the gesture. There's a warmth that spreads through your chest when you see him like this, happy and relaxed. You like seeing him smile, and you like it even more when it's because of you.

"Sure, sure," you placate him. "Whatever you say, Tech."

"That is what I say," he confirms, and you can't help but laugh.

"Okay, well, whatever."

"I win, then?"

"Fine," you sigh, pretending to be put out. "You win."

He smiles, smug and self-satisfied. "Of course I do."

You snort, rolling your eyes again, and he just keeps grinning. He looks so proud of himself, and you can't help but feel a surge of affection for him. You like this side of Tech, the one that's playful and teasing and fun. It's a side that not many people get to see, and you can't help but feel lucky that you're the one he shows it to.

You like this, the two of you together, alone, no one around to hear your conversations or watch the way you look at each other. There's something intimate about it, something that makes your stomach flutter and your heart beat a little faster.

It's different, when it's just the two of you. The arguments and banter are still there, but there's something else, too, something warm and gentle and special. You want to drag this moment out as long as possible, and you intend to.

"So, where are we going, then?" he asks, and you bite your lip, trying to hide your smirk.

"Nowhere," you say, and he gives you a puzzled look. "Or, well, nowhere interesting."

"Then why did we take the detour?" he asks, and you can hear the curiosity in his voice. He's not annoyed or angry or irritated. He's genuinely interested in what you're doing, and why. It makes you smile.

"Because, Tech," you explain, "sometimes, it's the journey that's important, not the destination."

He cocks his head to the side, considering your words.

"But if the destination is not important, then why bother going at all?" he asks. "What is the point of the journey, if not the destination?"

You can't help but laugh again. He's so literal sometimes. You've tried explaining the concept of "just because" to him, but it's a hard concept for him to grasp. There is no rhyme or reason to some things, no logic or scientific explanation. Some things just are. They're fun, or beautiful, or special. And sometimes, that's reason enough to do them.

You tell him as much, and Tech rolls his eyes. He doesn't believe you. He can't understand why you'd do something for no reason at all. But you know that he's listening. He's still following along with you, and there's no indication that he wants to leave.

"So you just wanted to wander around the Senate?" he asks, and you nod. "Why?"

"I don't know," you admit. "I just wanted to. And I thought it might be nice to do something together. You and me."

He looks at you for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. There's a softness to his features, and his eyes are warm behind his goggles. It's a look that you've only ever seen him give you.

Sometimes when Tech looks at you, you feel like a bug under a microscope, like he's dissecting and cataloguing your every move. It's unnerving, and it makes your stomach twist with anxiety. But sometimes, like right now, he looks at you like he's seeing something new and wonderful, like you're a mystery he's trying to solve.

You don't mind it so much when he looks at you like that.

"It is...nice," he admits after a moment, his voice quiet. "Being together."

He says the words carefully, almost hesitantly, and you can see a slight flush creeping up his cheeks underneath his goggles.

You smile at him.

"It is, isn't it?"

You're still holding onto his wrist, and you slide your hand down to meet his, your fingers intertwining with his own. Tech doesn't pull away, and he doesn't seem surprised, or uncomfortable. He just lets it happen, and a soft, shy smile appears on his lips, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

"I—"

Whatever Tech was about to say is cut off by a shout from behind him. Both of you jump, and Tech whips around to face the source of the sound. He steps in front of you, instinctively shielding you with his body, his free hand going to the blaster on his hip. You can feel his muscles tensing, and his grip on your hand tightens.

You peer over his shoulder and see a Corrie Guard, one of Fox's men, coming down the hall toward the two of you. Your blood runs cold.

"Hey!" he shouts. "This is a restricted area."

Tech glances at you over his shoulder. "It is?"

"Oops," you mutter back. "Guess we better get out of here."

The two of you turn and bolt down the hall. You can hear the guard's boots pounding behind you, and Tech's fingers are still interlaced with yours. Laughter is bubbling up inside of you, a mix of adrenaline and nervous energy. Tech lets out an amused huff, and the two of you turn the corner.

You nearly slam into another group of troopers, and Tech pulls you out of the way, keeping a firm grip on your hand. You barrel past the guards, who shout in alarm as they see the first guard chasing the two of you.

It's chaos, and the laughter spills out of you as Tech drags you through the maze of halls and corridors. The sound of your feet and the guards' boots echoes off the walls, and Tech is pulling you along behind him, not letting go. You can see the smile on his face, even as he turns and yells at you.

"Why are they chasing us?!"

"No idea!" you shout back, laughing.

"We should not be doing this!"

"Too late!"

The two of you sprint through the building, twisting and turning down hallways, the sound of the guards' footsteps following close behind.

"Tech! Over here!"

There's a door at the end of the hall, and it's unguarded. The two of you make a beeline for it, and you're both panting by the time you reach it. Tech slams his hand against the access panel, and the door slides open. He shoves you inside, and you have to duck under his arm before he follows close behind.

"Where are we?!" he asks, looking around.

You shrug, breathless, and he looks at you incredulously.

"We're in a closet," he says, and you can't help but giggle.

The room is dark, empty, and quiet. It’s also extremely cramped, and there's barely enough space for the two of you. The closet is clearly built for a maintenance droid, and the shelves are lined with cleaning supplies.

It's a tight fit, and you're pressed close together, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Tech is forced to bend down toward you to avoid hitting his head on the shelves above you, and his nose is practically touching yours.

"This is not an ideal hiding place," he complains. “It's not defensible. If they find us here, we'll be trapped."

"I know." You sigh, looking up at him. "I'm not an idiot."

"But you are the one who pulled me in here," he points out.

"Well, we had to get out of sight, didn't we?" you argue. "They were right behind us."

He shakes his head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You are unbelievable."

"I'll take that as a compliment," you say, and you can hear his amused huff.

"You would," he murmurs, his tone dry.

"What are they gonna do?" you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. "Arrest us? For taking a shortcut?"

"I don't know why you're being so difficult about this," he grumbles. “We—mmph!”

Your free hand clasps over his mouth, silencing him. Tech's eyes widen behind his goggles, and he blinks at you in surprise. His other hand is still holding yours, and the two of you are standing so close together that you can feel the warmth of his body through his armor.

"Quiet," you hiss, and he gives you a look that is part exasperation, part amusement.

You keep your hand over his mouth, and the two of you stand there in the dark, the only sounds the hum of the ventilation system and the muffled footsteps of the guards outside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you stay as still as you can, and the feeling of Tech's lips beneath your palm is sending tingles down your spine.

You can feel his breath, warm and uneven, and you're suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of him that's touching you. Your fingers drag along the curve of his jaw, catching on the stubble there, and he shivers. It's barely noticeable, but you feel it, and you can't help the flush that creeps up your neck as you pull your hand away.

Tech's eyes are still wide, and his lips are parted, but he stays silent. He straightens, shifting a bit in the tight space, and you can feel his chest brush against yours. You can smell the leather of his armor, and the faint scent of grease and soap that lingers on his skin.

He's so close.

His leg is wedged between yours, and his body is radiating warmth. You're practically plastered to him, and every part of him that's touching you feels like it's burning. The hand that's holding yours is trembling, just a bit, and the closeness of the space, the heat, and the adrenaline from the chase are making your head spin. And you can't seem to stop staring at his mouth.

The voices in the hallway grow louder, and the two of you tense as you listen. They're right outside the door, and you suck in a sharp breath.

"Maybe they went the other way," someone is saying.

"They couldn't have gone far," another voice replies.

Tech's free hand comes up to rest on the shelf next to your head, bracing himself as he looms over you. His eyes are fixed on the door, and his brow is furrowed, a small frown on his face. You know he's probably running through a million different scenarios in his head, calculating the odds of each one, weighing the options and possible outcomes.

You know he's trying to figure out a way to get the two of you out of this, a plan, an escape route, something. Meanwhile, all you can seem to think about is how soft his lips look, and the way they had felt, warm and gentle against your hand.

"Let's just radio Fox and let him deal with it," a guard says. "I don't get paid enough to run around the Senate."

"We don't get paid at all," the other retorts.

"Exactly."

Tech adjusts his stance again, trying to get a better angle on the door. The motion presses his thigh harder between your legs, directly against your center. The touch sends a shock of arousal through you, and you have to bite your lip to keep from gasping aloud, praying he doesn't notice.

Of course, he does.

Tech snaps his head to look down at you, his eyes locking with yours, and you can see the surprise written all over his face. His lips part slightly, and his gaze flickers down to where your bodies are connected, then back up to your face.

You can see the moment realization dawns on him, and the way his pupils dilate behind his goggles is unmistakable.

"We'll search this side," someone is saying.

"They've gotta be around here somewhere."

You can barely hear them over the sound of your pulse pounding in your ears. You swallow thickly, and Tech's eyes dart to your throat, his lips parting a bit more. He looks a bit dazed, like he can't believe what just happened. Or maybe he can't believe the effect it's had on him.

You're having a hard time believing it yourself.

Tech is never one to be lost for words, or speechless, but now, he doesn't say a thing. His eyes are fixed on yours, and he's so close to you that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. He looks like he's about to say something, but then thinks better of it, his lips pressing together.

"Do you think they went upstairs?"

"Nah, it's too risky. They're probably still on this level."

Tech lets out a shaky sigh, his hand flexing against the shelf. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his eyes flutter closed before he takes a deep breath, and then his leg is moving up against you again, and this time, it's deliberate.

A small, choked gasp slips past your lips, your hand squeezing his, and Tech's eyes fly open.

You know you should say something, or do something, but you can't seem to form words, or even a coherent thought, really. All you can focus on is the way his leg is rubbing against you, sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body with every minuscule twitch.

Tech's breath hitches, and his grip on the shelf tightens. He's watching your reaction closely, his eyes roaming over your face. He's testing you, you realize, seeing what you'll do, how you'll react.

You don't move, and the pressure against your core increases, just a little, but it's enough. A whimper escapes you, and Tech's nostrils flare. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you're pretty sure you're the color of a sun-ripe pomfruit.

"Tech," you whisper, your voice coming out husky and breathless.

He doesn't say a word, his eyes boring into yours, his leg still moving, ever so slightly, against you. The guards are arguing now, but neither of you are paying attention. There's nothing but the two of you and this tiny, dark closet, and the friction that's building between you.

"Tech," you breathe again, a little louder this time.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips again, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets out a shaky breath. He's enjoying this, you realize. He's getting off on it. And the thought makes a fresh wave of arousal rush through you.

Tech is not usually an impulsive person. He's meticulous and precise and methodical. Everything he does is calculated, planned. He's not spontaneous, and he doesn't do things without thinking them through first. But right now, he's acting on instinct, and he doesn't seem to care about the consequences.

And the thought is making you feel things that are definitely not appropriate for this particular situation.

Another insistent brush against your core, and you're done for.

"Fuck," you whimper, your hips rolling forward into the contact. Your free hand shoots out and grabs his shoulder, giving you leverage as you press yourself harder against his thigh.

Tech makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and his fingers curl harder around the edge of the shelf above you. The metal groans and bends under his grip.

The two of you are lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, your bodies moving together, desperately seeking more friction, more pressure, more contact. Tech is panting now, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps, and the sound is like music to your ears. He's always so in control, so put-together, but now, he's completely undone.

You can't stop staring at him, drinking in the sight of him, and his eyes are locked on yours, too. You're close, so close, and Tech must be able to tell because he's grinding his leg against you faster. The hand that was holding yours has moved to your hip, and he's pulling you closer, tighter, helping you grind against him.

His goggles are fogging up, and he's got that look on his face, the one he always gets when he's working on something. But this time, it's not the Marauder's circuitry or a busted datapad, it's you, and the realization makes your blood burn hot.

The voices outside the door are still going, but they're faint and distant, moving farther away, the words nothing but a meaningless buzz in the back of your mind. All that matters right now is the way Tech's thigh is rubbing against you, and the heat pooling in your core.

"Tech—"

Your words are cut off by a whimper, his name coming out like a plea, and you can't help the way your hips are jerking, seeking more contact. Your fingers are digging into his shoulder, and he's practically shaking, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

"I can't—" he gasps. "I can't think like this."

"Don't," you choke out, your voice trembling. "Don't think. Just...just..."

You're not even sure what you're asking him for, but you don't need to say anything else. He knows.

The pressure against your center increases, his leg rubbing harder, faster, and you can't hold back anymore. Your climax washes over you like a tidal wave, and your knees nearly give out, only Tech's firm grip on your hip holding you upright.

You barely make a sound before he's crushing his lips against yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers, his own muffled grunts echoing in your ears.

You cling to him, riding out the aftershocks of your release, and his mouth is hot and insistent against yours, his tongue stroking against yours. He's warm and soft and sweet, and he tastes like caf and something else that is distinctly Tech. His kisses are hungry, and his hands are roaming, and you're not sure if you're dreaming or if this is actually happening.

Tech kissing you. Tech, who has barely even touched you before today, who has avoided any and all physical contact with you since the moment you met, who has never, ever, shown any kind of interest in you, is kissing you, his hands and mouth and tongue setting your nerves on fire.

And all because of an impulsive idea, an accident.

You should stop. You know you should stop, but you can't bring yourself to.

"Tech—" you breathe, and his mouth moves to your jaw, kissing and licking and biting at the sensitive skin there. You're practically melting under his touch, your fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently. "Tech, the guards—"

"I know.”

He sounds just as wrecked as you do, his voice raw and husky, and you can't believe this is happening.

"We—"

Your words are cut off by his mouth again, and you're panting and writhing against him. His hands are on your ass, and he lifts you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The shelves shake and rattle as he presses you against the wall, and the new position allows him to grind his codpiece against your heat, the feeling making you both groan into each other's mouths.

You've never wanted anything more than you want him right now, and the desperation in his kisses is telling you that he feels the same way.

"Tech," you whimper.

"I know," he breathes, his lips moving against yours.

The guards' voices are fading, growing quieter and more distant, but neither of you notice. You're both too lost in each other, in the feeling of finally, finally, giving in to the tension that's been building between you for weeks, months even.

"Tech—"

"I know," he says again, kissing you harder, deeper.

The guards' voices are gone, now, and the only sounds are the hum of the ventilation system, the creak of the shelves, and the wet, desperate noises of the two of you devouring each other.

"We have to—we can't—" you manage, and he pulls back, his mouth moving to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin.

"I know," Tech breathes, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "We can't. This is—"

His hips buck, and he presses himself harder against you, making you both moan.

"This is dangerous," he finishes, his mouth moving lower, to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

"It's wrong," you gasp, but your fingers are tangling in his hair, and you're tilting your head to give him better access. "We can't let anyone find out about this."

"No," he says, his teeth nipping at your throat. "No one can know. If the others found out, they'd never let us hear the end of it."

You shudder, and his hands are everywhere, roaming, grabbing, groping, and his lips are tracing patterns across your skin. You're not sure if he's trying to prove a point or not, but you can't stop the little gasps and moans that are falling from your mouth.

"What—what are we gonna tell them?" you ask, your voice breathless and shaky.

"I don't know," he groans, his hands sliding down to the backs of your thighs, squeezing hard. "I can't think."

You laugh, the sound coming out as a desperate, breathless thing. "Me either."

His mouth is on yours again, and he kisses you fiercely, hungrily, like he can't get enough. Your hands are in his hair, tugging and pulling and holding him to you, and his hips are bucking against yours, grinding his codpiece against you. It's not enough, and you need more, but you can't take it. You're too wound up, and the friction is delicious torture.

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you. His eyes are wild, his pupils blown wide, and he looks like he's going to come apart at the seams.

"Tech," you gasp. "Tech, please."

"Yes?" he asks, his voice rough and strained.

"I want you," you admit. "I want this. I want you, right now."

He groans, his fingers digging into your hips, and his forehead drops to yours.

"I want this, too," he breathes, his voice barely a whisper.

You're clinging to him, and his mouth is on yours, and it's all a blur, a mess of tongues and teeth and moans. You're clawing at his armor, and he's tugging at your clothes, and there's barely any space left between the two of you. It's a frenzy, a frenetic energy, and you're both chasing the same thing, the same end goal.

Tech's fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, and he tugs, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. His hand is fumbling, clumsy, and you know he's not used to this. He's not used to the intimacy, or the desperation, or the lack of control. He's not used to being this wound up, and it's showing.

It's cute.

He's cute.

He's so fucking cute, and you have no idea what you're going to do with him.

You don't know where it comes from, or who started it, but suddenly, you're both laughing, a mixture of nerves and excitement and relief. You're smiling, and he's smiling, and you're just so happy, and so overwhelmed, and you're not sure if you've ever been this happy before.

Tech gives up on the clasp, and instead, he tugs off his glove with his teeth and shoves his hand down the front of your pants, his bare skin hot against your flesh. His fingers slide between your folds, and the moment they meet the wetness there, you're both moaning.

You can feel his fingers stroking you, rubbing at your clit, and your hips jerk, bucking against him.

"You feel incredible," he murmurs, and the sound of his voice, all breathless and awestruck, sends a shiver down your spine.

"You—ah, fuck," you gasp, unable to continue as his fingers swirl over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He smirks, and he looks so goddamn smug, so satisfied, and you're pretty sure you've never been more turned on in your life.

"Tech," you whine, and he chuckles, a low, deep sound that sends a tremor through your body.

"Is this good?" he asks, his voice teasing, and you can't help but giggle.

"You know it is," you manage, and he grins.

"I do," he says. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

He's still smirking, and you roll your eyes, even as he slips a finger inside of you. You're panting, and your hands are scrabbling at his chest plate, trying to find purchase. He's got you pinned, and you're practically hanging from him, your thighs locked around his waist.

"Tech," you gasp, and his hand is working, pumping in and out of you.

"I can't believe how wet you are," he mutters. "I've barely even touched you."

"I'm not usually like this," you argue. "It's—mm, fuck—it's just you."

He moans, his forehead dropping against yours. "You have no idea what that does to me."

"Show me," you reply, and his grip on your hip tightens, his fingers flexing against your skin.

"I will," he promises. "I will."

You can feel his breath on your face, hot and uneven, and his mouth is so close, his lips brushing against yours.

"Just—fuck, Tech, just fuck me," you plead. "Please."

He lets out a ragged groan as he pulls his hand away, and you nearly sob at the loss. You can feel him fumbling with his belt, his other hand holding you up, and he's cursing, his fingers shaking.

"Why—why are these damn things so—ugh!"

He finally manages to undo his belt, and it hits the floor with a thud, the ridiculous amount of pouches and gadgets clattering to the ground. The sound makes you laugh, and he shoots you a glare.

"Stop that," he chides. "This is a serious matter."

"I'm sorry," you gasp, barely able to contain your mirth. "It's just—the sound!"

He rolls his eyes, but his lips are twitching, and his fingers are back on his codpiece, fumbling with the clasps.

"I will never understand why you need so much equipment," you tease, and he scoffs.

"The amount of equipment I carry has nothing to do with my ability to—"

"Just take it off, Tech," you groan. "I'm dying here."

He glares at you, but the effect is ruined by the flush that's creeping up his neck. You can't help but smile at the sight.

"I'm trying," he huffs, "but I can't do anything when you're distracting me."

"Sorry," you apologize, biting your lip.

Tech gives you a look, but his attention is already back on his codpiece, and his fingers are flying over the clasps. He's got a look of intense concentration on his face, and he's practically vibrating with impatience. You undo the buttons on your shirt, tugging it down and exposing your chest, and Tech's gaze flickers over to you, his lips parting as his eyes travel down your body.

"That is not helping," he mutters, and you laugh, leaning back and bracing yourself against the shelves.

"Maybe if you had less equipment, it would be easier to get out of it," you tease, and he lets out an irritated huff.

"If I had less equipment, I wouldn't be able to do half the things I do."

"True," you concede, a grin on your face. "And then I wouldn't be nearly as interested in you."

He looks up at you, his eyes wide, and the corner of his mouth turns up in a half-smile.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" he asks, his voice soft and teasing.

"Maybe," you say, biting your lip.

He doesn't say anything, just stares at you, and his expression is so earnest and sincere that it makes your heart flutter. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a huff of laughter.

"You are," he says, his voice quiet. "You're telling me that you're interested in me."

"Well, duh," you laugh. "Why else would I have dragged you along today?"

He doesn't say anything, but you can see the flush on his cheeks darken.

"You're such a dork," you tease.

"And you are the most infuriating, confusing, aggravating, and fascinating person I've ever met," he replies as his eyes open again, his gaze locking with yours.

"That's one hell of a compliment."

"It's a fact."

You're not sure what to make of the sincerity in his tone. You're not sure what to make of any of this. It's not exactly what you'd planned, but you can't help the thrill that's running through you.

"I have no idea what I'm going to do with you," Tech says, and the fondness in his voice makes your heart swell.

He finally gets his codpiece undone, and it falls to the floor with a clang. You can't help but glance down at his groin, and you see his erection straining against his blacks.

"I have a few ideas," you murmur, and he lets out a strangled laugh.

"So do I."

Tech sets you down on the floor, and your legs are shaky, but he keeps you steady, his hands on your hips. His hands hook into the waistband of your pants, and you can feel his knuckles brushing against your skin as he tugs them down. It’s an agonizingly slow process, and the anticipation is making your blood pound in your veins.

"Force," he hisses as your underwear sticks to your skin, the fabric clinging to your slick folds.

"You did this to me," you say, your voice trembling. "It's your fault."

"I'm willing to take the blame," he replies, his eyes locked on your cunt.

He pulls your pants down, and you step out of them, your shirt still hanging open. You're bare before him, and he's still fully dressed, the plastoid armor covering almost every inch of his skin. You're about to ask him to take something else off when his hands are on you again, gripping your ass and lifting you up.

You let out a startled yelp as he pins you against the wall, his hands spreading your thighs and holding them apart. You can feel the hard line of his cock pressing against you, separated only by the thin fabric of his blacks, and you can't stop the moan that spills from your lips.

"I want you so much," he breathes, his hips thrusting, the friction making you cry out. "I want this, so much, and it's—"

"Tech," you gasp. "Don't stop."

"I want to take my time," he says. "I want to do this properly. I want to do this right, but I can't, not right now."

"Tech," you plead. "It's okay."

He lets out a frustrated groan, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

"This isn't—we shouldn't—"

"Tech," you gasp. "It's okay."

You grab his face, forcing him to look at you, and his eyes are wild, frantic.

"We can take our time later," you whisper. "We can take all the time in the world, but right now, I need you, okay? I need you, and we don't have time."

He shudders, and his cock twitches against your heat, making you moan.

"We can take this slow, later," you promise, and his eyes search yours, looking for any hint of uncertainty. He must not find any, because he nods, and the tension drains from his body.

"Okay," he says, his voice shaky. "Okay."

His hips rock, and you whimper as his clothed erection slides between your folds, the friction making you tremble. You're practically drenched, and you can feel the slickness dripping down your thighs, soaking the front of his blacks. He's not doing any better, his cock throbbing and straining against the fabric.

"Fuck," he hisses.

"Yes, that," you groan.

“You’re impossible," he growls, his hand moving to pull down his blacks. His cock springs free, and the sight of it, thick and heavy and dripping, makes your mouth water.

"And you're taking too long," you shoot back, your fingers curling around his length.

He's hard and silky soft, and his skin is feverishly hot, and the feeling of him, so hard and desperate, makes you moan. You drag your fingers along his shaft, tracing the vein, and his hips buck. He's panting, his eyes fixed on your hand as you pump his cock, and you can feel his muscles twitching and trembling.

"I'm not going to last," he gasps.

"Good," you reply, guiding his cock toward your entrance. "I don't want you to."

You can feel the head of his cock brushing against your slit, and you both moan. He's leaking, and his pre-cum is mixing with your arousal, slicking him up and easing the way. You can feel him sliding through your folds, teasing you, and it's driving you wild.

He pushes forward, his hips jerking, and you both moan as the head of his cock slips inside. You’re about to tell him to keep going when he slams into you, his entire length sheathing itself in your cunt in one swift thrust.

The cry that falls from your lips is muffled by Tech’s mouth as he captures yours, swallowing the sound. He's so big, and the sudden intrusion is almost painful, but the pleasure is overwhelming, and you cling to him, fingers scrambling for purchase on his shoulders.

His hands are bruising your thighs, and his hips are stuttering, the rhythm uneven and sloppy. There’s not much room to move, but he manages, thrusting shallowly, grinding his hips against yours.

"I'm sorry," he pants, his words slurring. "I'm not—fuck, I can't—"

"It's fine," you gasp. "It's fine, just—ah, Tech!"

Your back arches as he hits that spot inside of you, and he groans, his forehead dropping against yours. His goggles are pressing against your face, and you can feel the cold metal against your heated skin.

"You feel amazing," he pants, his hips rolling.

"You—you're not bad yourself," you gasp, and he laughs, a low, husky sound.

"Not bad? That's the best you can do?"

"You're ruining the moment," you groan, and he scoffs.

"Apologies," he says, his tone mocking. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

You roll your hips, and Tech grunts, his grip on your thighs tightening.

"You can start by fucking me properly," you breathe.

"As you wish."

His thrusts pick up speed, his hands moving to grip your ass, lifting you up and down, helping you bounce on his cock. The shelf behind you rattles, the items stacked on it shifting and wobbling, and Tech lets out a breathless huff of laughter.

"You're—Force, you're a hazard," he gasps, and you laugh, the sound morphing into a moan as he grinds against you.

"I've always wanted to say this," you pant, your nails scraping across his scalp, "shut the hell up and fuck me, Tech."

He growls, his pace picking up, and the angle of his thrusts changes, and suddenly, he's hitting that spot inside you again. Your orgasm is building, and you're teetering on the edge, your body thrumming with pleasure.

Tech is panting, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps, and his forehead is resting against yours, his lips brushing against your skin.

"Touch yourself,” he orders, his voice rough and hoarse. "I want to feel you come."

You comply, your hand slipping between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit. Your eyes flutter shut as the first jolt of pleasure hits you, and Tech lets out a choked groan.

"Look at me," he pleads, and you open your eyes, gazing up at him.

He looks utterly wrecked, his cheeks flushed, his mouth hanging open, his brow furrowed in concentration. He's gorgeous, and you can't believe this is actually happening.

Tech is fucking you, in a closet, while a bunch of Corries are patrolling the halls outside. It's the craziest, most insane, and most arousing thing that has ever happened to you. There's no doubt in your mind that you're going to be sore for a week, but it's totally worth it.

"You're so beautiful," he pants, his words slurring together. "You're so perfect, so tight, and Force, the sounds you're making—"

He cuts himself off with a groan as he drives into you, and you cry out, the pleasure building. He's babbling now, and it's not even coherent, just a stream of nonsense and curse words and half-formed sentences. He's saying something about how good you feel, and how much he's wanted this, and how he never thought he'd have this chance, and it's all a jumbled mess, but it's the sweetest thing you've ever heard.

His rhythm is erratic, his hips jerking, and his face is twisted with desperation and need. He's getting close, you can tell, and you're right there with him, teetering on the edge.

"Tech," you hiss, your hand speeding up, your fingers rubbing furiously at your clit. "Oh, fuck, Tech—"

He slams into you, the tip of his cock hitting that spot deep inside, and you shatter. You come hard, clenching around his cock, and you barely have time to clap a hand over your mouth before your orgasm crashes over you. You're biting down on your palm, your teeth leaving deep indents, and the sound that escapes your lips is muffled and raw.

"Oh," Tech gasps, his eyes fluttering closed. "You're going to make me—"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. The tension inside of him snaps, and he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt and grinding against you, forcing you to take every last inch of him. His cock twitches, and his whole body goes rigid as his orgasm hits him.

He doesn't make a sound as he comes, his lips parting and his mouth opening in a silent cry. His hips jerk, his movements stuttering and uneven, and you feel the bloom of warmth as he fills you, his release spilling out of you, dripping down his cock.

Finally, he slumps forward, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, and he lets out a low, satisfied hum.

You can't stop the stupid grin that spreads across your face.

Tech is nuzzling at your neck, and you can feel him smiling, too, his lips pressed against your skin.

You're not sure how long the two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, breathing hard and basking in the afterglow. It feels like hours, but it's probably only a few minutes.

Tech pulls back, and you look up at him. He's gazing down at you, his expression soft and content. His goggles are crooked, and his hair is mussed, and his lips are swollen and red. You reach up, smoothing his hair down and straightening his goggles.

"Well," he starts, his tone dry despite his ragged breathing, "this has been a most enlightening day."

You burst out laughing, and he smirks, his nose bumping against yours.

"Nothing like a bit of field research to broaden the horizons," you tease.

"Indeed," he chuckles, his hand cupping your cheek.

You smile at him, and he smiles back, and the moment is so tender, so sweet, and you can't help but kiss him again. It's slow and lazy, and he sighs against your lips, his mouth warm and inviting. You could kiss him forever, and never get tired of it.

Finally, he pulls away, and you reluctantly let him go.

"I must admit," he says, his tone light, "that was far more satisfying than I'd imagined."

"Oh, you imagined it, did you?" you ask, and he smirks, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks.

"Perhaps once or twice," he confesses.

"Just once or twice?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Perhaps more," he amends, and the admission sends a thrill through you. “Though I had not anticipated anything quite so vigorous."

"I didn't know you had it in you," you tease. "I never would have guessed that you were such a deviant."

"Evidently you bring out a certain side of me," he replies. "One that I had not been aware of until today."

"Well, I'm happy to explore more sides of you, if you'd like," you murmur, and Tech hums.

"I would enjoy that.”

His lips brush against yours, and the kiss is soft and sweet, and your heart swells.

"But," he says, breaking the kiss and looking down at the floor.

You follow his gaze, and you both wince. Your pants are lying in a pile on the floor, along with your shirt, and Tech's codpiece and gloves. There are a few pieces of cleaning supplies strewn about, and your boots are on opposite ends of the closet. Tech's belt is laying on the ground, his pouches spilling out and his blasters resting haphazardly on the floor.

"We need to clean this up," he mutters.

"Yeah," you agree.

Neither of you move. You stay where you are, clinging to each other, and savoring the moment. It's not going to last forever, and you both know it.

Once the two of you step out of this closet, things will change. Everything will change. But you can't find it in yourself to regret anything. Not the teasing, or the flirting, or the banter, or the argument, or the frantic, desperate sex. None of it.

And from the way Tech is looking at you, with a mixture of tenderness and awe and fondness, you know that he doesn't, either.

Eventually, though, Tech is the one to pull away. You both groan as he slides out of you, and the sound echoes through the tiny room. He sets you down gently, and your legs shake as you try to find your footing.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his eyes roaming over you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little…" you trail off as you glance down at yourself, taking in the sight of your bare thighs and the streaks of white that are slowly dribbling down them. "Uh, sticky."

"Yes," he agrees, his eyes glued to the mess between your legs. You watch his tongue flick out to lick his lips, and the hunger in his gaze is enough to make you blush.

"What?" you ask, and he blinks, seeming to snap out of his trance.

He flushes and looks away. "Nothing," he mutters, pulling his blacks up over his cock.

"Tech, come on," you say, a grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"I must admit the sight of you like this is rather... enticing," he says, his tone nonchalant. He's not looking at you, and he's pretending to straighten his armor, but you can see the pink flush on the back of his neck and the tips of his ears.

"Yeah?" you question, and his eyes flick up to meet yours.

"Yes," he murmurs, and the look he gives you makes your knees weak.

"Good to know,” you breathe. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you can't stop the grin that spreads across your face.

Tech shakes his head and picks up his belt, fastening it around his waist. He begins stuffing his pockets, and you watch him, amused. He's always so proper, so put together, and to see him like this, all riled up and horny, is an incredible sight.

"Are you just going to stand there?" he asks, eyeing you, and you grin.

"Maybe," you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

"I will leave you here."

"Sure, you will."

"I will," he insists, but the look in his eyes gives him away.

"Okay, okay," you chuckle. You grab a cloth and wipe off the worst of the mess, and Tech hands you your pants and underwear. You pull them on, wincing at the damp fabric, and Tech holds out your shirt.

"Thank you," you say, and he nods.

"Of course."

You take the shirt from him, and your fingers brush against his. His touch sends a shiver through you, and you can't resist the urge to lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek.

Tech stiffens, surprised by the gesture, but you see the corners of his lips quirk up in a smile.

"Now what was that for?" he asks, and you shrug.

"Do I need a reason?"

"I suppose not," he admits, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, and neither can he. You finish getting dressed, and the two of you straighten up as best you can. Tech smooths down his hair and adjusts his armor, and you wipe the smudges off his goggles with the cloth in his belt. He helps you button your shirt and tuck your hair back into place, and he looks like he's enjoying himself.

You have a sneaking suspicion that he likes undressing you, and putting you back together again.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and his lips linger on your skin.

"Thank you.”

"For what?" you ask, confused.

"For helping me see the value of a little spontaneity.” Tech gives you a small smile, and his eyes are warm. "I may have been...wrong, about today. It's been an illuminating experience, and I'm grateful for it."

The rush of affection you feel for him catches you off guard. He's such a dork, and he's so sincere, and the way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter.

You reach up and cup his face in your hands, pulling him down for a quick kiss. He lets out a startled sound, but he kisses you back, his lips gentle and warm.

"Who would've thought," you murmur as you pull away. "You have a healthy psyche after all."

Tech scoffs. "I told you—"

A shout echoes down the corridor, and the two of you freeze.

"They've gotta be around here somewhere," a voice calls.

"Shit," you whisper.

"Time to go," Tech replies, and the two of you burst into motion. You both dart to the door, and Tech cracks it open, peeking out.

"Ready?" he asks, and you nod, your cheeks still pink.

He pushes the door open, and you dash out. Tech's fingers curl around yours, and you follow him as he leads the way. Your feet slap against the floor, and your breath is coming in short, harsh gasps. Tech's hand is hot in yours, his grip firm, and his thumb rubs comforting circles into your palm.

You don't even bother trying to remember where you're going. You just follow him, trusting him to lead you to safety. You can hear the voices of the troopers echoing behind you, and their footsteps are growing louder.

"There!" a voice shouts, and Tech curses under his breath.

He tugs on your hand, pulling you around a corner. The two of you are sprinting now, and you're panting, and your heart is pounding. A bubble of laughter escapes your lips, and Tech shoots you a look, but the corners of his mouth are turned up in a smile.

"This is insane," he mutters, and you grin.

"It's fun," you correct.

"This is the last time I ever listen to one of your ideas.”

"We both know that's not true."

"Unbelievable," he sighs, shaking his head.

"I'm just saying," you argue, "we both enjoyed ourselves, didn't we?"

"Yes," he admits reluctantly. He suddenly pulls you to the left, ducking down a side corridor. "But next time, I choose the location."

"Next time, huh?"

"Yes, next time," he huffs.

Tech pulls you through another doorway, and the two of you race down a flight of stairs, then another, until you reach the ground floor. You can see the entrance up ahead, and you muster the last of your strength, putting everything you have into one final burst of speed.

The doors slide open, and the evening light streams in, bathing you both in its warm glow. Tech's fingers are still laced with yours, and he doesn't let go, not even as the two of you burst out of the building and onto the streets.

Tech tugs you to the right, and you follow, his hand warm and firm in yours. You can still hear the shouts of the Corries behind you, but they're getting fainter. You're both out of breath, and your hearts are racing, but the excitement is intoxicating.

Tech finally slows to a walk, and he glances over his shoulder, checking for any pursuers. He doesn't let go of your hand.

"That was certainly a memorable excursion," he remarks.

"Told you it would be fun," you grin.

"Yes, yes, you were right, and I was wrong," he concedes with a long-suffering sigh.

"Never gets old, hearing you say that."

"I can tell," he grumbles, but there's a smile playing on his lips.

The two of you continue on, your steps slow and leisurely, and the streets are quiet around you. It's later than you thought it would be, and there's no doubt the others are wondering where the two of you are. But you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when Tech is looking at you like that.

"So," you start, and Tech raises an eyebrow. "What do we do now?"

"Well," he replies, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. "I suppose we should head back to the ship."

"Right. Of course." You try your best to keep the disappointment from your voice, but the way you deflate must give it away. Tech glances at you, his expression inscrutable, but there's a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"And then," he continues, his hand tightening around yours, "I'm going to need some help with the power couplings."

You blink and look up at him. His eyes are twinkling, and the corners of his mouth are turned up in a small smile.

"Oh, do you?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corner of your own mouth.

"Yes," he replies. He lets go of your hand and places his palm against your back, his thumb stroking your spine. "I'm afraid I need someone to help test them. Someone with a very discerning eye."

"I see," you murmur, biting your lip to keep from smiling. "I guess I could help."

He slows to a stop, and turns to face you. The evening sun is setting, and the light is catching in his dark brown eyes, making them glow golden. His hand is still on your back, and he pulls you closer, until the two of you are nearly touching.

His free hand tilts your chin up. "I'd appreciate it."

"And maybe after," you continue, a mischievous glint in your eye, "we could test the other parts of the ship."

"That's an excellent idea," Tech replies, and his fingers tighten in the fabric of your shirt. "We will need to make sure we are thorough. It wouldn't do to leave any part of the ship untested."

"No," you agree, a grin spreading across your face. "It would be irresponsible."

"Precisely."

Tech meets you halfway, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Your hands find his neck, and he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you. You can't stop the sigh that escapes you, and he swallows it, his mouth slanting over yours.

He breaks the kiss, and he's smiling, his cheeks flushed. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut, his head tilting into your touch.

"So," you start, your thumb stroking his skin, "shall we head back to the ship?"

"After you, darling," he replies, his voice low. He presses one more kiss to your lips, and then he's stepping back, offering his arm.

You reach out to take it, and then you pause, considering. Your fingers drift over his bicep, and you look up at him, your eyes sparkling.

"Race you," you say, and then you take off, your footsteps echoing down the street.

Tech stares after you for a moment, before he shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Infuriating," he mutters, and he sets off after you.

The two of you run, chasing each other through the streets of Coruscant, and the air is filled with your laughter. It's a beautiful night, and the city is alight with the glow of the sunset. There's a breeze blowing, and it rustles your hair, and the scent of flowers is in the air.

And there's a warm feeling in your chest, something bright and light and free, and you can't stop laughing.

It's impulsive, and foolish, and everything Tech would normally hate. But it's perfect, and as he chases after you, the smile on his face only widens.

Maybe there's something to be said for spontaneity, after all.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild

#tech x reader #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #the bad batch #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #clone x reader #roy writes #well i finally did it #here it is #if you see any mistakes no you didn't!#also thinking of doing some sort of celebration for 500 followers #maybe i'll do a prompt list or something #i need some fresh ideas

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webanglikethat · 2 months

Text

ADDRESSING SOMETHING IMPORTANT.

so, I just want to address something I found out recently. await a long rant tbh.

while scrolling through my second account (which I do not use often — it’s on my iPad and it’s simply because I couldn’t be bothered to remember my login details for this account), I searched my username because I wanted to find a very old post I reposted about ice skating. while doing so, my name popped up in a post I had never seen before. thus, I realized my name was on a blocklist. I was extremely confused. I just recently, during May (don’t quote me on that though), began being active on Tumblr. before that, I was mostly lurking and reblogging fics from fandoms like Obey Me! or Haikyuu. so, I really didn’t know why a person would put me on such a blocklist.

turns out, they’ve been looking through the “narcissistic abuse” and “#narcissistic abuse is real”, “#raised by narcissists” and “surviving narcissism”. the reason why they put me on this blocklist is because they believe I am of the notion that every person with ND (narcissistic disorder) is an abuser. to say I was shocked would be an understatement tbh. I was so confused. I never stated that ANYWHERE on my account. so I began looking and combing through my liked on those tags. I did find two / three posts with those tags that I liked.

One of the posts in question says:

'you're so sensitive'

THANKS

i was never fully allowed to express my emotions as a child because when i did i would get yelled or made fun of”

narcissistic mother is the 13th tag. or for example this one:

now, me personally I don’t get it. I think it’s fucking ridiculous — and pardon my language but the anger has been rising more and more since reading all of that — to look and nitpick for every. single. post. I had no idea they were even tagged with narcissism. I never claimed that my mom nor dad are narcissists. sure they’re messed up. but I never claimed that. the fact that someone has extrapolated such a specific and serious claim from my online activity is not just incorrect, it's irresponsible. I get that people are trying to be aware and protective of others online. that is great, really. but this level of scrutiny and assumption? it is not helping anyone. it’s just creating more misunderstanding and division. can’t someone like stuff they relate to anymore? I got fucking trauma thanks to childhood abuse, can’t I be allowed to look at stuff and think “wow, me too!” without being afraid of misjudgment? that’s kind of the whole point of social media, isn't it? to connect, to feel less alone in our experiences? I should be able to see a post that resonates with my experiences, think "Wow, me too!" and hit that like button without fear of being misunderstood or labeled. it’s not about diagnosing anyone or pushing an agenda. it’s about finding moments of connection in this big, messy digital world despite the gloominess of the real one.

this person stated they weren’t 100% sure if I believed in this or not.

isn’t that just so stupid. you go out of your way, nitpick my name and then state you’re . Not Sure? you’re ruining my character and my image. I don’t even know you.

this is SO infuriating. I’ve worked hard to curate my online presence to reflect my interests and personality, only to have some clueless jerk — again, excuse my wording but I can’t be bothered to care about someone’s feelings right now — misinterpret my intentions and slap my name on a blocklist based on pure assumptions. it’s so insane that liking or relating to a post is enough to get you labeled and shunned without any direct statements or actions to back it up.

what’s even worse in my opinion is that this person admits they’re not sure of my stance. they have jumped to conclusions based on a handful of posts I’ve liked, without any solid evidence of my beliefs or intentions. it’s one thing to fight against harmful ideologies, but it’s another to vilify someone based on wild guesses.

to the person who put me on this blocklist: you don’t know me. you don’t know my experiences, my thoughts, or my intentions. your actions have real consequences, and you’ve chosen to act on baseless assumptions instead of facts. this isn’t activism; it’s a witch hunt. and it needs to stop. you claim to be fighting against harmful ideologies, yet here you are, perpetuating the very toxicity you pretend to oppose. you are not solving problems; you're creating them. you’re not protecting anyone; you're just stroking your own ego and patting yourself on the back for being such a "good person." Newsflash: good people don't engage in character assassination based on hunches and half-baked theories.

I mean for god’s sake — did it ever occur to your brain that your actions have real consequences? that by putting me on a blocklist, you're potentially cutting me off from communities, conversations, and connections that matter to me? all because you couldn't be bothered to do actual research or, God forbid, reach out and ask me directly about my views? and let's talk again about your spineless approach to this whole situation. you block me, refuse to engage, and then have the audacity to claim you're "not 100% sure" about my beliefs? if you're not sure, then why the hell did you take action? your uncertainty doesn't absolve you of responsibility; it makes your actions even more reprehensible.

so while you might never see this since 1) you blocked me, 2) are not replying to me on my second account — I demand an apology and a retraction. not just for my sake, but for everyone who’s ever been misjudged and slandered by people who think they know better. this isn’t how we build understanding and empathy. THIS is how we build walls and create divisions. and I refuse to be a part of that bullshit.

and to anyone else who thinks they can pull this kind of stunt: think again. I won't stand idly by while keyboard warriors with delusions of grandeur try to dictate who I am or what I believe. again. you don't know me, you don't know my story, and you sure as hell don't have the right to define me based on your misguided assumptions. I mean, who appointed you as the moral arbiter of the internet? what makes you think you have the right, the authority, or the wisdom to dictate who I am or what I believe? you’re not a hero; you're a nuisance, a digital mosquito buzzing around, causing irritation and spreading disease.

if you truly care about making the internet a better place, start by looking in the mirror. examine your own biases, your own knee-jerk reactions. ask yourself why you're so quick to judge, so eager to categorize people into neat little boxes that fit your worldview.

remember that behind every username is a real person, with real feelings and real experiences that you know nothing about. your actions have consequences, and it's high time you started considering them.

I won't be silenced. I won't be labeled. and I sure as hell won't stand by while you and your ilk try to dictate the terms of online existence. this is my story, my identity, my truth. and no amount of your misguided, self-important crusading will change that.

the mic is yours @cccat-in-a-meat-sack,

will you finally answer?

#be so for real.#and die on this hill since you’re so keen on it #mental health #call out post #narcissistic personality disorder

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l0ve-bug-m1les · 1 year

Text

Spider-Band With a S/o Who Hyperfixates on Things Hard

Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Gwen Stacy, and Pavitr Prabhakar (separate) x Gn!Reader

Warnings: None! (Except my attempt at British talking—)

Summary: Really what the title says—

A/n: This is actually an idea i had when i first fell into the spider verse fandom but didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Glad ya’ll picked this one! Enjoy!! Also lmk if any of ya’ll wanna be on a tag list!! I know i don’t write all that much but still—

Miles Morales 🌻🎧🌻

Bby is here for it

Always listening to what you have to say and never complaining

I have a feeling he’d be just as excited as you even if he’s got no clue what you’re talking about

He’d try to get into your interests with you no matter how outlandish they may seem

(I mean he’s basically a spider what’s so weird about fnaf lore—)

Definitely draws you things based off of the subject

“You said they were your favorite, right?”

Is always sending you memes and funny videos about your interest

Asks you for updates on your interest if it’s a series

Holds you when something bad happens and you’re sad

“Shh, shh…Hey, at least they existed, right?—Oh, no that made it worse—“

Going back to rambles, he’s always listening but maybe not always looking at you

But trust me

That boy could recite what you say perfectly

He just likes to listen while he works or draws

Has definitely made a mural of you and him in the world together (used it as a date spot. It’s true, he told me)

Overall

20/10 boyfriend

(I mean they all are but like—)

Hobie Brown 🎸⚡️🎸

Will spend hours learning songs related to your interest

But then he’s like

“What? Oh, i been knowin’ this song, luv. What’re ya on about?”

Say for instance, you dive deep into an artist or band

Obviously, Hobie’s gonna ask you about them

But would never ask you for your favorite songs because he’s “Too busy writing his own”

So he just pays really close attention to the songs you talk the most about

(As i previously stated, he learns them all and plays it off)

When you figure it out he’s just like:

“Took ya long enough, luv”

He also listens to your rants about whatever it is (much like Miles and everyone else here but shhh)

But here’s why he stands out

This man can keep up

He can and will remember all about it, and basically know about much as you do

Steals things from stores that are from the series or whatever it is

“Hobie, how’d you get this?” “It was on display and i knew you’d love it.” “Wow! I thought you didn’t buy things from brands..” “…” “You stole it…”

You’re too busy loving whatever it is to stay mad

(But we all knew you weren’t mad)

If you think your interest is cringey then you’re WRONG

“But it’s for kids—“ “And? So what?” “Well…uhm….hm.” “Yeah. Thought so. Now keep goin’, I’m invested.”

(But also in general, bby. Love what you love and come to me if anyone says it “weird” or “cringey”. I’ll beat them up bestie<33)

All in all, a king<33

Gwen Stacy 🩰🥁🩰

I’m gonna be honest

She is lost

Even if you go over things twenty times she still won’t get it

And that’s okay!

She takes notes and tries to keep up

Definitely proud of herself when she gets a detail right

“And then—“ “Wait, wait. Let me guess…He…he burned the pizzeria down, right” “Uhm—yeah, actually!” “*insert proud face*”

(Woah look at the trans flag colors^^^)

Definitely binge watches or reads your interest and learns as much as she can

She keeps a notebook full of her notes that she refers back to whenever you two are on call

She played it off as writing down some notes for school

But one day, she asked you to grab her suit from inside her drum set, and you found the notebook

It caught your eye because it had the name of your interest on it and you were like:

“Hey, Gwen? What’s this?” You showed her the notebook

I wish you could see my vision

When i tell you Gwen stood there for a good minute

I mean she stood there for several

Anywho

She just admitted to it and was all red and fidgety

Since this is her world, she was cast in mostly pink and red hues and the space around her fluttered yellow

You end up going through it with her, and talk about your favorite bits

Overall? She deserves several gold stars and cookies

Pavitr Prabhakar 🍵☀️🍵

Bby is here for it

Whenever you get excited he’s excited

When you’re on the verge of tears he’s already crying

He is your favorite character’s number one supporter

He’s always going on and on with you about your interests

Because unlike the others, he manages to actually get into whatever it is you’re talking about and not just keep up

It’s honestly a skill of his

I feel like Pav also has special interests that he dives deep into

Deep deep

Same as you so you two get along well :D

He’s always looking for the newest content and sending it to you always

“Hey! They said the next episode would be released next Tuesday!! :DDD” “There’s a new theory for the last volume!”

It’d be cute if that’s how you met and became friends

You spend sleepovers diving into your shared and separate interests with eachother

You know what’d be funny?

If he also info dumps onto the villains he fights

Hear me out

Pav tying up a villain who tried to rob a place and just going

“Yeah, so me and my partner have a theory for why—“

And the villain is just like

Stfu??????

But they’d never say that because it’s Spider-Man

All in all, your number one hype man and best friend :]

———————————-

YA’LL I DID IT :DD

#i literally just sat down #opened tumblr #and boom #ya’ll #spider man: across the spider verse #miles morales #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #headcanon #pavitr prabhakar #gwen stacy #gn reader #Love ya’ll<333 #spider-man across the spiderverse x reader #miles morales x reader #hobie brown x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #gwen stacy x reader

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incorrect-spideytorch · 1 year

Note

Hey I’ve had a bad day :(

here’s a free invitation to rant about anything Spideytorch —> 💌

I’m sorry you had a bad day but I am very excited about this invitation!

I have decided to rant about this panel and the trauma our boys got from it

so Red Skull is out here being a villain and uses mind control to f**k with the heroes and we get to this moment where Red Skull is like wow you two are super close gay for each other so I’m gonna make one of you watch the other die and I’m going to use mind control to do it which is so incredibly twisted

like Peter is hearing his best friend the love of his life say (against his will) that he is going to make Peter watch as he end his life. I cannot imagine how terrifying it is to hear the voice of the man you love say that and to know that neither of you have any control

then we get to the Johnny side of things. Johnny had had his free will taken away from him and Red Skull is trying to use that to not only end his life but do so to hurt Peter by making him watch! I am also a winterhawk shipper (Clint Barton x Bucky Barnes) and a lot of fics for that ship talk about their shared trauma of losing free will and not having control over yourself (Loki and Hydra for them) and how much that messes you up, Johnny is dealing with this!! sure it’s not lasting as long and it’s a different situation but my boy is still going through that and he is being used as a weapon to his lover and himself it makes me wanna scream

obviously they’re superheroes and all of this shit with Red Skulk gets resolved but the trauma of this situation I don’t think gets talked about enough in the fandom, specifically spideytorch shippers like this is great angsty fic fodder,

so here’s some of my angsty thoughts about what happens after

Johnny wakes up panicked and holding his head every night for weeks convinced Red Skull is still in there

when the nightmares got really bad Peter had to hold Johnny down so he didn’t try to harm himself in an attempt to get Red Skull out of his head

neither of them feel safe when Johnny has anything that could even remotely be used as a weapon

Johnny avoids the kitchen cause all he sees is ways that Red Skulk can kill him in front of Peter

Peter had an anxiety attack when Johnny was sitting on the roof with him because he could only hear mind controlled Johnny saying he would make Peter watch him die and pictured Johnny falling

they develop code phrases and questions to ask to reassure each other that the other isn’t mind controlled

for at least a year after anytime Johnnys voice sounds different, even if it’s just cause of a cold Peter gets nervous and demands a code phrase

to be honest they spend a lot of days right after the Red Skull incident together on the couch eating takeout and cuddling with minimal conversation

it takes a while for Johnny to trust his own mind and body again afterwards and Peter doesn’t know how to fix that which is really frustrating for him

when Johnny feels out of control he doesn’t want Peter nearby because he doesn’t want Peter to have to watch whatever might happen next

of course Peter can’t bare to leave Johnny so they had to develop a solution for that

Peter will sit around the corner or on the other side of a door so he can still be there but not see Johnny, it’s a weird loophole but it works for them

they do a lot of forehead touches after this

so many forehead touches

thank you again anon for your ask and for permission to rant! I hope this made your day better, even though it was a bit on the angstier side. if you want something fluffier just send another ask my way

EDIT: someone in the tags mentioned that Peter’s spidey senses are going off even though he’s not the one in physical danger and I will be screaming for the next 8 years

#spideytorch #answering my asks #johnny storm #peter parker #red skull #peter x johnny #peter parker x johnny storm #mine :)#my favorites #headcanon #marvel #comics

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kuramirocket · 7 months

Note

I came across posts you wrote a long time ago about Piper Halliwell and had to reach out to thank you. It seems like literally everyone LOVES Piper Halliwell, praising her as not just their favorite Charmed one but one of the best TV characters ever, and finding someone else who dislikes her was honestly the most validating experience I've had on this site! I recently rewatched a bunch of episodes and couldn't get over just how awful Piper is past the very first season. Fans are like 'all hail our sass queen!' like it's somehow a good thing that she goes out of her way to be ridiculously mean and bitter. She never, ever, ever stops complaining about everyone and everything, and it's not just that she's always in a terrible mood---it's that she directly takes that mood out on Leo and her sisters constantly, insulting and criticizing them nonstop. (Can you believe some people here think Piper was "too good" for Leo?! The man is a saint for patiently putting up with that shrew!) And she's always praised for her heart, but while the other three actually care about innocents, Piper is always the one whining about just wanting a "normal life" and throwing literal tantrums over things like wanting a better wedding or which of two great guys she should choose while there are literal LIVES at stake lol. Speaking of which, on a show about women destined to be witches, who thought it was a good idea to have one of the three main characters whine about how much she hates being a witch in Every. Single. Episode?! She's just such a completely unpleasant character with literally the worst attitude I've ever seen, and I can honestly say she ruins the show for me. (Disliking the turn they took with Phoebe's character didn't help either!) She was unapologetically terrible even before Prue's death, and it blows my mind that fans hate Prue for being too "harsh" when Piper is like a million times worse! Thank you for bravely speaking out so that all three of us who dislike her know we're not alone!!

Hello :)

Wow, I cannot believe it's been 5 years since I watched Charmed when I made those posts. And I never did finish watching the rest of the series 😭 So, naturally it's on my to rewatch and actually finish it this time around watch list. Lol

And I'm glad I could make you feel validated. When you, unfortunately, hate or dislike a character for whatever reason, especially one a majority of fans like, it's always nice to find like minded people. It's why I'm not quiet in my opinions. I want people to have a fun and safe space in fandoms even if that's just to discuss dislike for a fan favorite! Which is why if I am anti a specific character I try to tag properly so fans who do like the character can avoid my personal thoughts. And ofc, this means also never directing said dislike towards the fans who like specific characters. I just let people enjoy what they enjoy even if I do not.

Anyways, I'm surprised people view Piper as sassy. From what I remember, I never saw her as sassy, just annoying her complaints and plotline. And yeah! Prue maybe was 'harsh,' but she's the eldest and had that responsibility of caring for her younger sisters. She had a lot of weight on her shoulders. It's why she was serious a lot of the times and seemed to be hit the hardest by their mother's death from what I recall.

I wish I could comment more, but since it's been years don't remember a lot of details.

This ask made me smile, tbh. Again, glad you were happy to find my rants validating xD

#asks #charmed #anti piper halliwell

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panelshowsource · 8 months

Text

yes on the 28th!! i'm excited because ALISON HAMMOND!!! every day i'm like whyyy do we not have her on more panel shows she is everything!

victoria spoke about it on her episode of taskmaster the podcast :)

all i know is she's been looking fly as ever — like always! but if she's changing things up a lil then good for her 😌

i would like to anon but they didn't rly have that many moments together on the show, like of substance that make a good gifset 😩 i did do these two! do you have another moment in mind?

omg YES LMAO

richard is so hilariously subtly shady, i love when someone makes the most wrong guess ever (usually during tablet games like the rich list and i'm terrible at dating) and richard does a very obvious scoff-chuckle and goes "yeah? [raises eyebrows knowingly] well [stifled laughter] you never know! let's see if that's right [stifled laughter]" like it just cracks me up — because somehow he's not smug at all despite being mr big brains and someone who teases others a lot

one thing i love about hog is how much richard loves hog — like, that's his baby, he loves doing that show, and he is so obviously having the most fun every single week, which makes it even more fun for us imo!

wow great question!

i have a lot of nostalgic love for comedy world cup — i love david tennant, he's so affable and very funny and a lovely host, and i think that format had legs even if it didn't make it in the end. also from around that time i remember liking mad mad world on itv, which was suddenly cancelled mid run? with paddy mcguinness, rhys darby, rufus hound... —

sorry to digress for a second but remember on some recent podcast ep when sam campbell was like "what's rufus hound up to" and i think it was ed gamble who laughed his ass off lmaooo i feel like there's rufus hound tea out there but idk what it is. anyways

— ...i would love to check it out again but i can't find it! i'll work on that 🤔 then, of course, you have been watching hosted by charlie brooker. it would not have been as strong a format if it wasn't for charlie writing the show and clearly having many topics & rants he wanted to go in for, but i loved that series and saw quite a few comedians/personalities, including vcm, josie long, holly walsh, and peter serafinowicz, there for the first time :')

looks like i had a lil trip down memory lane!

i think it's great! i'm not crazy about dylan llewellyn — i am not super into derry girls, and i felt, at times, his acting was lesser than the others' in a distracting way? is that just me? — but it hardly ruined the show or anything. the cast has GREAT chemistry and jon pointing is a standout (though he doesn't pass for his 20s at all lmao), and i love seeing izuka hoyle who i loved in boiling point and is so(!) gorgeous. tv comedy lives and dies on its editing, and big boys really understands its structure and its beats. i'd also say it strikes a rare balance in its absurdity and its sincerity, which is some of my favourite ever kind of film & tv. god, i just love sad boi comedy. or sad anything. i'm a "let's watch this and cry🤩" kind of person no matter my mood LOL

btw did you see victoria coren mitchell also loved big boys?

sure anon i put it on google drive here :)

i'm not going to host this one but you can request it here and someone will definitely have it to share with you asap! sorry for the inconvenience but lmk if you have any questions :)

—————

PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS / NON-PANEL SHOW WATCH LINKS FAQ / TAGS / ASK

#a #whiteberryx

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always-anxious612 · 1 year

Text

Close Calls

Uh, wow, it has been so long since I posted a fic, heh. This is actually an old fic from a while ago that I never posted. Recently I decided to revamp and edit it. There may or may not be one or two more chapters in the works but I was also thinking of leaving it here. Let me know if you want more of this!

Description: Prince Roman has gotten plenty of scrapes in bruises in the past, and he doesn't see how one more stab wound is that big of a deal. His dearest Virgil, still just a nurse in training, begs to differ.

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairings: Prinxiety

Warnings: injuries mentioned, mentions of past abuse, homophobia mentioned (I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything or if you need something tagged!)

Word Count: 2,014

Chapter 2

“Of course, it’s infected,” I sighed, rubbing a hand down my face in frustration. “You should have gone to the royal physician when you came back, and not me. “Yeah well, maybe I didn’t wanna,” the prince in front of me huffed petulantly. I rolled my eyes at him, and stood, examining the stab wound that rested a little above his hip. I’d stitched it up a few days before and had come back to check on him as I had promised. Unfortunately, he was complaining that the pain was getting worse instead of better, and, well, here we were. “Seriously, your highness, why won’t you just go to the physician? This seems pretty bad. It’s swollen and I don’t want the infection to spread or get worse. “Oh, we’re playing that game,” Prince Roman scoffed, leaning back against the headboard of his bed, “I told you not to call me that He looked so tired that I gave in much quicker than normal, groaning and rubbing my temples at my growing headache “You’re being too stubborn, Roman,” I grumble “You’re a nurse. It’s basically the same thing,” he muttered.

“No, you idiot, it’s not the same thing. I didn’t even have the right tools with me when you called for me last time. All I had was what I managed to smuggle from the clinic without drawing too much attention. And if someone had told me what had happened before I came, maybe I could have gotten the right supplies. I didn’t know you’d been stabbed. I should have just reported this to Logan and let him handle it. Maybe we wouldn’t be here right now if I had,” I ranted, plopping down on the edge of his bed where he was lounging.

“…But you love me, so you’ll still keep this a secret for me, right?” he grinned sweetly, leaning closer and reaching up to try to cup my face. I glared at him until he sat back again with a pout.

“You are so lucky that I’m more concerned about your stupid health right now than arguing anymore,” I grumbled as I got to work tending to his wound.

“Aw, come now, stormcloud,” he countered, still pouting, “at least it’s an excuse to see you again.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes at him.

“Yes, I just love being responsible for the prince getting an infection and then having him argue with me for the millionth time seeking about actual medical health.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” he tsked, reaching over to brush back my hair. I promptly swatted his hand away and glared at him again.

“No fun,” he sighed petulantly.

“You know the rules, Roman,” I reminded him with a sigh of my own.

“Yeah, well, coming here and doing this is against the rules too, but you’re still doing it,” He pointed out, huffing in irritation.

“Under protest.”

“I think a little touching in my own room is fine, Virgil. You’ve said you loved me before.”

“…Under protest.”

“Was not,” Roman muttered, snorting.

“That—I shouldn’t have said it, ok? You know that we’d get in a lot of trouble. It would just cause problems for both of us,” I huffed, glancing up at him before refocusing on my work.

Roman opened his mouth, probably to argue some more, but cut himself off with a flinch.

“That hurts, Virge,” he hissed, pulling away a bit.

“Well, obviously. It’s a stab wound Roman,” I spat out, glaring at him, “and I’m trying to clean it; so, hold still.”

He huffed but did as instructed, and we fell into a tense silence. I’d made a mistake in telling him I loved him, obviously, because he never let me forget that I’d said it. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing late one night when I was fixing some bruises on his face. He had been acting so sweet, but he looked so broken, and I poked and prodded until he admitted where the bruises had come from. It would have been so much better if they were just from him defending the nearby city from the raids that had been plaguing the kingdom for quite a while. It would have been ok if they were from one of his stupid quests to who-knows-where because he wouldn’t tell me about them but always came back bruised from them. It would have been fine if he’d been out training with the knights again and got a little carried away.

Instead, I cursed his father and the fact that he was the beloved king and that Roman couldn’t do anything about that. I cursed that his father had said he wouldn’t relinquish the throne until Roman found a suitable queen to rule by his side, and I cursed that I wasn’t a born girl of noble blood so that I could be that for him. I cursed that us being in love wasn’t enough. I cursed everyone who found it disgraceful and lowly that he’d fall for a servant; and everyone who found it disgusting and sinful that he’d fallen for a man. I had a lot of curses to give out, apparently. Too bad I didn’t know a suitable witch.

Pushing away those thoughts with a grimace, I refocused on cleaning and wrapping Roman’s torso. Luckily my hands had been moving on autopilot during my little internal rant, and I was basically done at this point. I sighed, staring at the place I knew the wound was underneath the bandages, hoping I’d done enough to stop the infection After all, I was still just in training to become a physician. I hadn’t even gotten through all of my training to become a full-time, work without supervision nurse yet, despite what Roman seemed to think.

Speaking of Roman, he was zoning out, staring at a spot on his bed, and I just grew more worried at the slightly dazed look in his eye. This infection could have serious consequences if it got much worse.

“Come on, Princey, please let me take you to Logan,” I tried one more time, already expecting the answer I’d get. Couldn’t hurt to try, right? He paused for a second before blinking and shaking himself out of his stupor.

“No, Virgil. Just—please. You know that if my father finds out about this, he’ll—he’ll forbid me to go into town anymore at all,” he begged, “he’s already banned me from helping fend off the raids—”

“Which you obviously ignored,” I interrupted, making him huff.

“—If he finds out I disobeyed and got injured…again…he won’t even let me out of my room.”

I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to offer some sort of comfort. I knew he’d been having more problems with his father recently, but I didn’t know how I could be of any help. What could I say against the king?

“You know, when he banned me from helping with the raids and fighting off any other attacks on the towns, he said that I should learn that my life is more valuable than theirs,” He scoffed, breaking the soft silence that had fallen between us as his face twisted in disgust, “He told me there’s no reason I should get hurt protecting them. That I was making a fool of myself…what kind of ruler doesn’t protect their people?”

“A bad one,” I muttered without thinking, making Roman snicker.

“Hear, hear,” He grinned before growing serious once again.

“Virgil, when I’m king, I’m going to do better,” he avowed, glaring down at his lap.

“Of course, you will, Ro,” I agreed softly, “You’re already doing better than him.”

Roman smiled at my words as I tried not to imagine how much trouble I’d be in if someone overheard me slandering the king.

“I’m going to actually help our people. I’m going to make sure to put an end to threats for good instead of brushing over the issue by sending out more and more untrained soldiers to their deaths. I’m going to make sure everyone is as happy,” He continued, sighing—probably at the thought of everything that’s been happening lately. There had been a lot of infighting in the kingdom recently. Not only did no one know who was facilitating the attacks and raids on the towns and cities near the castle, there was increasing evidence that it was coming from within the kingdom and not from outside forces. I couldn’t imagine how much not being able to help how he wanted was weighing on Roman. I couldn’t even blame him for sneaking out to help defend the citizens. I just wish he didn’t always come back hurt.

“You’ll make a great ruler, Ro, even if you’re an idiot for not taking any of my advice, like…ever,” I assured, hoping to ease the melancholy atmosphere that had fallen with a little teasing. He chuckled softly, but remained as serious as before, looking up to meet my eyes. I melted a little at how much they softened when he looked at me.

“I’ll make sure we can be together too, Virgil. I’ll—I’ll make sure no one can hurt you. No one will have to hide anymore, and those stupid rules will be abolished,” he promised, taking my hand in his. “Just…wait for me, ok? I’ll protect you. I’ll protect us.”

My breath wavered at the sincerity in his voice. If anyone could accomplish all of that, I was sure it was Roman. He already had the love and loyalty of most of the castle staff. He visited the town as often as he could and had made friends with many of the locals. Even many nobles—the ones who weren’t stuck with their head in their own asses—loved him as well. I smiled softly, patting the hand that still rested on mine.

“Looking forward to it, Princey,” I murmured.

As Roman started to blush and lean forward, I realized just how close we’d gotten during his promises, and jumped up, clearing my throat. I already missed the softness that I’d just destroyed by pulling away. I wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t.

“Um, uh, the stitches I did last time look fine for the most part,” I started, pushing away the thoughts as I frantically started collecting the left-over supplies and tried to hide how red my face had grown, “but as I said earlier, it’s definitely infected.”

When I turned back around after gathering everything, Roman was pouting forlornly, a blush still tinging his cheeks.

“You—um, I put some ointment that should help with it, but if it gets worse…” I sighed, rubbing my neck awkwardly. I knew telling him to go to the physician again would just cause another argument, and I really didn’t want another one of those right now.

“Well, I’ll try to come back tomorrow to check it, but you know I can only sneak up to your room so many times without people getting suspicious,” I said instead, trying to chuckle to lighten the mood.

“So…you won’t tell?” he asked hesitantly. “You know I won’t,” I rolled my eyes as a bright grin took over his face.

“Just get some rest, Princey, I’ll be back tomorrow. Probably,” I instructed, biting back a grin of my own at the look on his face.

“Good night, Edgar Allen Woe,” he sang as I started for the door.

“One day, you’re gonna run out of those stupid nicknames,” I snickered.

“Never,” he gasped dramatically.

With a soft chuckle, I bid him goodnight and closed the door. As I sneaked back down to the servant’s quarters where I lived, I let the stress of—all of that—slide off and took a deep breath. It was quiet, and I took comfort in the fact that my footsteps were the only ones I could hear echoing down the hall. It seems I was safe this time. One day that prince was going to kill me with worry. Too bad I liked him too much to care.

#I was thinking about getting back into writing fics but Idk #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #sanders sides fic #tw injuries #tw homophobia #tw abuse mention #my fics #cait writes #prinxiety fic #hurt/comfort #prinxiety hurt/comfort

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avaantares · 2 years

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(yet another) rant: Please stop with the frivolous Trigger Warnings

(Note: If you want to skip the recipe blog intro and get to the actual important stuff, scroll down to the header that says, "Which Warning to Use on Your Post")

Sooo I made a text post that had a few words in capital letters mixed in for effect (the rest of the text was in standard formatting). Someone reblogged it with the tags "tw: all caps" and "tw: capital letters."

The existence of these tags, specifically in the form of a trigger warning, struck me as weird. I mean, I can see why someone might be uncomfortable with an all-caps text block, if they've dealt with abusive/angry capslocked emails or something, and I can see how large blocks of capitalized text could be difficult to read, and some users might prefer to avoid them. But...

Limited capitalization as emphasis (e.g. dropping OH WAIT in the middle of otherwise lower-case text to indicate a shift in tone) does not present the same issues as a solid block of capslocked text;

I have not encountered this tag in the plethora of posts that employ the meme/joke format of subverting standard case usage or alternating case (yes, the SpongeBob meme is a thing with an actual academic definition, and it also predates the existence of SpongeBob by some decades); and

Most importantly, while formatting definitely affects user experience and can be worth tagging for that reason, I wouldn't have escalated it to the level of a trigger, which is a term with a pretty specific definition:

The concept of ‘triggering’ describes the re-experiencing of unpleasant PTSD symptoms such as intrusive thoughts being evoked by exposure to materials which spark traumatic memories. Hence, content warnings have a long presence in psychiatric literature. [source: Typology of content warnings and trigger warnings: Systematic review]

(Full disclosure for anyone who hasn't already learned from reading my rants: I have a background in behavior science, so I'm all about scientific definitions and correct application of same.)

But I thought that maybe I was misinterpreting what was being tagged, and I like learning what I should tag in future posts, so I thought I'd look deeper into those tags and see if I was missing something.

Welp. It sure was educational.

Turns out there are established "trigger warnings" on Tumblr for all of the following (not a comprehensive list; these are just the ones I also saw when scrolling through the caps tags, since many of those posts had more than one thing tagged):

any text with two or more capital letters in sequence

any text in italics

any text underlined

any text in boldface

any text in a font other than the default

any text in a color other than the default (as well as tags for each individual color)

images in black and white

images in color (how dare color exist)

images with... subjectively brighter? colors

images without ALT text

posts containing emoji

and my favorite entry, which for obvious reasons I can't describe by the content it's supposedly protecting us from:

"tw just in case"

O_o

So... where to even begin.

I guess I'll get the promised rant out of the way (for those of you who prefer to stay positive, skip ahead two paragraphs): It's no wonder that much of society mocks the very concept of trigger warnings, when they're used this... I have to come right out and say frivolously. Heck, even I'm having trouble taking the greater Tumblr community seriously right in this moment, and I've been part of it for *mumble* years and practically live here. Who in the academic/corporate/entertainment/quote-unquote real world is going to honor a request for content warnings when they see that the """kids these days""" consider italicized text a psychological trigger they need to be protected from? And you can just imagine some dudebro saying, "Wow, these special snowflakes are so fragile they're even traumatized by seeing color, lulz. We should see what really freaks them out!" ...and that won't end well.

The obvious rebuttal to that point is to argue that these tags aren't intended for use by the outside world, most of which already thinks Tumblr died years ago. Not that this has ever stopped Twitter and Reddit and Facebook users from screenshotting Tumblr posts to claim ownership of mock before, but honestly the extra-Tumblr world is the less important concern here, so I won't labor that point. The more immediate issue is how this affects Tumblr users, the Tumblr community, and the experience we're all so proud of being able to curate for ourselves.

The critical point is this: Tags exist for Tumblr users to find things of interest and avoid things they don't want to see. Warnings exist for Tumblr users to protect themselves. Conflating the two can cause not only confusion, but the opposite of the desired effect of being able to curate your experience.

Please note that it is not wrong to tag any of the things listed above. By all means, tag everything in your post! Tag away! Tag your text formatting and images and colors! Use that whole tag space so people can find/not find your content as desired! But none of these things should be categorized as trigger warnings. Trigger warnings, content warnings, and tags are all separate things, and should be used appropriately so people know what to look for/avoid in a post.

Now, you may well ask: Why do the semantics matter? If something's tagged, why does it matter how it's tagged? Isn't it better to warn people about anything and everything that they might possibly not like?

For those affected by PTSD, trauma, phobias, anxiety, psychosis, optically-sensitive medical conditions, etc., being able to trust tags -- and the community's overall reliability where they are concerned -- can be critical to their health and well-being. When the community's tags become imprecise, sloppy, or unspecified -- for example, when people start throwing tags like "tw just in case" on their posts instead of actually describing what is in the post -- it becomes unpleasant or even dangerous for those people to exist in that community. And although doubtless well-intentioned, the kind of overzealous helicopter tagging that labels things like text formatting or the presence of emoji as a trigger does two things: First, it can confuse filters and sandbag search results (for search purposes, tags are treated like a word bank, rather than individual line items). Second, it fosters a general lack of regard for real, life-threatening triggers. If Tumblr users get used to seeing every tiny little thing called out as a "trigger" -- trigger warning, there's a picture of a bird in this post! trigger warning, I can't spell so there's probably a word misspelled in this post! trigger warning, someone used a heart emoji in this post! trigger warning, here's a photo with the color orange in it! trigger warning, there's a banana in this post! Self image trigger warning, I'm having the worst hair day, lol! j/k! -- then subconsciously, "trigger warning" becomes synonymous with "lots of things random people find mildly annoying, so tag stuff if you happen to think of it" instead of "a few important things we should be diligent about tagging because someone's life might quite literally depend on it."

I know categorizing tags can be confusing, and in recent years there hasn't been much consistency in usage on Tumblr, so here's a cheat sheet to help you decide what warnings to use (and to be clear, I didn't make these up; these are sourced from academic literature and teaching guides, and were -- back in the Olden Days -- also more widely used on Tumblr.)

For a more thorough description of the most common types of content to post warnings about, see this PDF.

Which Warning to Use on Your Post:

Trigger warning (TW): Used to denote content that may trigger a PTSD episode, a severe psychological reaction, or a physiological reaction due to a medical condition (e.g. epilepsy). Broadly speaking, this warning is intended to mitigate risks that may exist because of a viewer's personal experience and/or medical status. Examples of things that should be tagged TW: sexual violence; child abuse; flashing gifs

Content warning (CW): Used to denote sensitive material that may make viewers uncomfortable or upset, or that some viewers may prefer not to see, but not necessarily invoke a traumatic personal experience. Broadly speaking, this warning is concerned with a viewer's comfort level. This can include general concepts (e.g. discussion of homophobia) as well as specific instances (e.g. use of homophobic language). Examples of things that should be tagged CW: racism; nudity; death

Descriptive tags (not warnings): Used to describe the content of a post, without value judgment, so that it is searchable and/or avoidable. (And also to write rambling comma-free essays, because Tumblr is just Like That. But that's a whole separate thing.) Examples of things that can be (generally) tagged: the themes or topics being discussed; black and white images; capitalized text; insects; the color green; memes; rainbows; digital art; literally anything else that appears in your post

Can people still dislike/be upset by things that aren't on a broadly-accepted TW/CW list? Absolutely. But that's not quite the same as a trigger, and that's why we also have general tags.

Here's an example of the difference between disliking or being triggered by content (source: "The right way to use a Trigger Warning," emphasis mine):

Trigger Warnings are here to prevent people who have experienced traumatic experiences to be exposed to something that might trigger a physical and/or mental reaction. Trigger is the key word here. “Trigger*” is used to talk about PTSD and mental illness. “Triggered” and “offended/upset” are not the same concept. I can be upset if I see a picture of a beautiful cake because I cannot bake, but it won’t trigger a post-traumatic reaction.

You aren't going to be able to anticipate every single person's likes and dislikes, phobias, emotional associations, and so on. There's a temptation to try to cover every base imaginable, but that's actually... less than helpful. Actively unhelpful, in some cases. In addition to the reasons I cited earlier, here's an example of how "I'll tag it just in case someone doesn't like a thing" warnings can be confusing:

Let's say I have two followers: WingHater96 has a deep phobia of butterflies, while ButterSuperFly78 adores butterflies. Tagging a post "butterflies" helps them both navigate my feed more efficiently: WingHater96 can block the entire "butterfly" tag, while ButterSuperFly78 can search for it.

However, let's say I tagged that post in the form of a warning like "tw: butterflies" and hid it below a Read More just in case someone following me didn't like butterflies. WingHater96 would still have that post blocked, because it contains the word "butterfly" in the tag. It would also still appear in ButterSuperFly78's search results for the same reason -- the presence of the warning doesn't affect search results at all. But when ButterSuperFly78 sees the warning tag, they might now be confused about whether the post is full of pretty butterfly photography (which they would like to see), or if maybe the reason I put a warning on it is because it's about butterflies being harmed, because why else would you warn someone about butterflies when they're the best things ever? But wait, does OP know that they're the best things ever? Is the warning there because OP secretly hates butterflies?? Do they need to unfollow OP now because they're a butterfly-hater??? and ButterSuperFly78 would not know whether to view the post or scroll past until they psychoanalyze me to determine my personal feelings on butterflies.

Adding the warning provided zero additional benefit for the person who already had the tagged thing blocked, but it caused additional problems for the person actively seeking out that thing.

Obviously this is a bit exaggerated (...though, speaking from experience, only a bit), but it's a lot more efficient to just list the things that are in a post in the tags without framing them as warnings. That way, people with different likes and dislikes can curate their own experience more easily, and know to take trigger and content warnings more seriously when they DO appear.

TL;DR Trigger warnings exist to help people avoid PTSD or adverse psychological/physiological reactions. Casually throwing the word "trigger" in front of things that are not triggers makes people stop taking the need for warnings seriously, and can confuse people trying to curate their Tumblr experience. Reserve TW and CW for actual triggers/sensitive content and use standard tags for other things.

#long post #tumblr tutorial #trigger warnings vs content warnings vs tags #frivolous use is one reason people are dismissive of the need for trigger/content warnings #tags already let people filter things they just don't like #not everything has to be a warning #ava rants about things #tumblr culture #(also this post contains all caps boldface italics colored text and font size changes if anyone is concerned with such things)

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autumn-foxfire · 2 years

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The whole thing about Toorus cover has already been frustrating enough but whats even worse is the amount of ppl that had come out of woodwork to yell 'its not even the first time he sexualized a minor!!!' or 'this is shonen what did you expect??? Other mangaka do it too'

Like you understand that first is just worse and second is no excuse. Like yeah Hori probs wont see any of the outrage and that cover will sell like hotcakes but these are still important conversations to have in fandom about the standards of the way women are treated in manga. Like why no try to build a mood in fandom where mangaka are held to higher expectations instead of just giving up cuz 'its shonen standard'. Drawing cute girls for teen boys to swoon over is one thing, putting an almost completely naked minor on the cover of ur very popular (and publicly sold like i cant imagine how this will look on BOOKSTORE SHELVES) is another. I also see many ppl bitch about like 'oh ppl who complain the most are those who write explicit bakudeku smut' which like, wild conclusion to some to and probably not true but also i think ppl have to understand that influence of a random fic writer in a fandom (even if a popular one) is Very different from influence of a popular mangaka whos work influences the fandom culture anyway. Like there will be ppl who write freaky shit in every fandom but the mangaka very much sets up the bar there i feel.

Like, Witch Hat Atelier is extremly non sexual manga (aside from Qifrey whos sad and wet) and the only sexual content ive encountered for it was between the two adults in it. There IS a creator there that draws minor x adult explicit stuff (as i said freaks in every fandom) but the only reason i know of them is cuz there were warnings from other users like 'hey this person is posting yxz art tagged under the main manga tag, it can be p upseting so make sure to block them!' its a whole different climate for real.

Uhhhh long story short like ppl are allowed to discuss weird stuff a mangaka pulls, thats good for the fandom, why is everyone on twitter so damn ready for this to be their hill to die on lmao all ppl are saying is 'wow pretty gross for Hori to put a naked teenager on the cover' hows that controversial

....long time no rant at foxy i hope i made sense

I completely agree with you, Lucy and I'm mad that the attitude in fandom a lot of the time is "well there's nothing you can do about it so why complain?"

Why aren't we allowed to hold Mangaka, grown men, accountable for the shit they draw and sell to a wide audience. Why can't I be upset that yet again a female body is being exploited by a grown man for sales.

Yes, she's fictional but that's not the issue! It's an issue that it's okay just because she's female and this has been normalized! Imagine the outrage in public that would have caused if it was Deku in such a pose?! It probably wouldn't be allowed to be printed, let alone on the cover of such a popular magazine that is sold to young boys.

It's because people brush it off that it's everywhere that NOTHING WILL CHANGE. Yes, my voice will probably go unheard regardless but at least I'm saying something about it, at least I'm supporting people who are also upset that their bodies are used like this. It's better than ignoring it and the people hurt by Hori's choice (which you'll notice are mostly females).

And the argument that fandom creates content just as bad is null. Firstly, a fandom creator who barely gets over 100 views most of the time will NEVER carry the same influence that a man who draws in over 10s of 1000s. Not to mention, it's deflecting the issue. We're not talking about the creation of porn, we're talking about how Hori has exploited the female body, using a character of his that is a minor, for profit as representation for his work.

My question is WHAT DOES THIS COVER DO. It doesn't represent Hagakure as a character nor it doesn't represent his story of heroism. It exists just for people to, frankly, jerk off over. As a fan of BNHA, I don't want what was once one of my favourite stories represented in such a way! I don't want a character to be reduced to this!

If Hori wanted to draw sexy females for young males, he should have created an ecchi manga, not a shonen one. At least then I wouldn't have to see this bullshit with my own eyes and have it supposed to represent something I used to love.

I'm upset as a female because I'm tired of shonen artists getting away with using girls like this, especially teenage girls.

#bnha #bnha critical #charmspoint #long time no rant back XD #thanks for the ask!!

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tench · 2 years

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Reading tags under my wip and honestly I have a little rant nobody has to read

I really don't know how you can like the current Warcraft lore. Like, for as long as I remember, wow writing was literally "living will envy the dead (and thank god they killed half of my favorutes in the first years, rip two of them who survived), but maybe it is a prime example of growing up after the new status quo was installed? A character is forbidden to be relevant more that a half of the expansion and everything must be sacrificed for the status quo, which stagnation and segregation". I mean in a depressive way it can be related to fow for example Luke from the latest Star wars trilogy was written. In this type of storytelling you can not have new heroes be created without violently putting down your old ones. But the way oldies, for example Arthas, Sylvanas went from compelling characters created around certain ideas, as "corruption of power and how even the "nicest" of people given unchecked reign within the system can turn out to be radical assshats and go violently autocratic" and "retaking the power from your abuser and turning it against them even if "it is too late for you you are already only shadow of your former self", later down the line turned into almost tumblr like typical american comics bullshit like "my son never did anything wrong in his life, it was all the squids that were stolen by us from one dead racist. And that woman is bad, but it's a given, she's like dead and sexy and the Horde need to be doing war crimes. Oh wait no, she has no agency either". The Horde treatment btw is very poorly going with them wanting Thrall to be that pure Moses like figure and as they were actively putting him on a pedestal, they could not make him be associated with the Horde politics as they needed you know, "a baddie" leading "the bad faction". And so they made Thrall at best in his "white coat" on his hight horse to absolutely helpless and complacent. The writers... seem to have something to say about left politicians I assume. Also how every fucking time it is either outside force or "Horde doing the thing again". There is a reason why I am going back to Warcraft 3 and not like WoW classic or Lich king, though I had a tone of fun playing the mmo.

#should I even tag it as Warcraft?#idk

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sanrielle · 1 year

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Summary: A case of mistaken identity leads to an impromptu date, and Sokka finds himself helping Toph on her mission to bake some bread. They’ve got all the major ingredients—flour, eggs, and innuendo—but little else.

Fortunately, not even Toph’s catastrophic kitchen skills can put out the fire in her heart.

Warnings: None

Rating: Teen and up

Wordcount: 5,300

Tags: Flirting, Romance, Humor, Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Excerpt:

“Excuse me,” Sokka said to the man at the register. “Do you have–” After a quick glance at the list, he just held it out. “Any of this?”

“Hm… Yeah, some of it. Mostly on aisles two and three. If you’re having trouble finding anything specific, just ask the boy that’s stocking the shelves.”

“Thanks.”

He set off in the indicated direction, though his focus was on the list. In his peripherals, he noticed a petite woman trailing her fingers lightly over some boxes on the shelf in front of her. The cane in her other hand served as confirmation that she was blind.

Instantly, Sokka was put in mind of Toph. This woman also had long black hair, though hers hung in loose waves nearly to her waist. Was Toph’s hair that long? He wasn’t sure. And unlike her, the woman in front of him wore shoes and fitted clothes that accentuated her curves.

A brilliant plan was taking shape in his head. I bet she’ll go out with me. I can use Toph as a conversation starter! He thought of little else but getting a date whenever an attractive woman crossed his path. Oddly enough, his corny lines usually worked.

What ended up coming out of his mouth was, admittedly, not his best. “The way you’re caressing those bags in public should be a crime. Wouldn’t it just be easier to forget cooking dinner and let me take you out instead?”

There was a brief but torturous pause where her hand went still and he was sure he'd fucked up, then she turned slowly to reveal a familiar smirk and the faintest hint of a rosy blush. “So you’re into blind chicks, are you?”

Sokka’s mouth fell open and he froze. His mind simply refused to comprehend what was going on. She looks just like Toph! it told him, putting the pieces together but in the wrong order. And sounds like her too!

He heard his mouth say, “You look just like my blind friend!”

The amusement on her face melted into irritated disbelief. “It’s me, you meat-brained moron! Ten years, and you don’t even know when I’m standing right in front of you?! Who’s the blind one? I knew it was you the second you opened your mouth, and I would’ve known sooner if I wasn’t trying to figure out if this is flour or fucking corn starch!”

The end of her rant was punctuated with an exasperated sweeping gesture at the small bags on the shelf next to her. But Sokka had barely listened to a word she’d said. All he could do was stare in shock while his poor, confused brain struggled to catch up.

“Wow. Speechless,” she continued, now with her arms crossed and a smug expression plastered across her face. “If I’d known that all it would take was for me to let my hair down, I would’ve done it years ago.”

#atla #avatar the last airbender #toph #sokka #toph beifong #tokka #toph/sokka #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #atla fanfic

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freebooter4ever · 4 years

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#Read the news and cry hr extended bc tumblr cuts you off when you rant in tags for too long #ANYWAY im still mad about what my old bff alex did #he knowingly came to visit from a country with at the time the highest number of covid cases #and he didnt adequately warn anybody or care about any of our wellbeing #he complained that he might be quarantined for fourteen days after his flight from china #and me being clueless and too wrapped up in my job #to pay attention to world events was like #wow thats extreme for the flu ppl must be exagerating #but he didnt explain why the two weeks #or explain how even people without symptoms could transmit this easily passed on virus #instead he pretended everything was normal and came with me to drawing club #and shook hands with everybody #which jenn pointed out after #when she and i talked that sunday #she was like yeah i was not impressed with alex #her dad and grandparents are in asia living where the coronavirus information was going around a lot sooner than it hit the us #so jenn knew about the risk #and she was pissed that alex was not being polite enough to disance himself and not shake hands/hug people #and not only did alex do that but i had been planning on bringing him to the artists house to introduce him to my local bff #it was sheer luck that alexs schedule made him only available thurs so we went to drawing club instead of to the artists house #my friend has already had one collapsed lung and is in the older age bracket i dont want to know what would have happened if we got unlucky #and the virus passed to them #and alex knew how old my friend was #assuming he lived in china with access to the same info jenns family had #he had to have known the great risk to older patients #and he said NOTHING #and then to top it off he comes into my bed and forcibly kisses me #like even ignoring the issues of consent and not stopping when i was like no dont no stop no #thats like number one way to spread germs #and after it happened and i broke free from him

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mrskurono · 3 years

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title: Lets Play House || Atsushi x fem!Reader a/n: wow i have a crush on Atsushi eww word count: 5.1k (whoops .-.) tags: fem!Reader, long fic, porn w/ plot, age gap (18 yr old Atsushi/mid 20s reader), smut, no dom/sub dynamics, lovesick!Atsushi, nicknames (mommy/daddy used), vaginal fingering, oral (male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mild breeding kink, creampie, unedited character(s): Atsushi Nakajima (bsd) + Dazai & Kyouka (ft) synopsis: Like everyone else at the agency, Dazai pawns his work off on you. This latest time? A gifted young man kicked out of an orphanage. Ok, this can work, you do have the room in your home. Until the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and Atsushi begs you to let another gifted young orphan stay. Relenting, you start to realize a found family trope might be playing itself out under your very roof.

"You want me to what?"

Dazai laminated his case even harder, "I told you! This poor thing has no place to stay! Forlorn from the very orphanage he was raised in! Dying on the streets when I was floating down the river!"

Pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation. You don't have enough braincells to unpack why your coworker was in the river. Certain you had an idea. Still his request persisted after the first no. Now he was stuppoing to begging, "Why did you promise him a place to stay....if you don't have a place?!"

"But I do have a place!" Dazai gave you a playful poke, "Yours!"

"Dazai-"

"Listen you have all that space! It must get lonely being a single woman." Dazai painted a vivid picture, "Atsushi is a sweet thing. You'll hardly notice him. He'll be the best behaved guest you've ever had!"

"Anyone is better than you." You muttered under your breath.

"Exactly!" Dazai clapped his hands, "So won't you let him stay?"

A long drawn out sigh. Rubbing your temple drawing the line between the facts. If you didn't take him in, this newest coworker would be out on the streets. But if you did take him in, you'd be owed a favor by Dazai. Which, honestly, was useless. Still though. You couldn't let someone suffer when you had the means.

"...fine." You shut down Dazais celebratory exclamations with a fistful of his shirt in your grasp and yanking the greenbean of a man closer to you, "But if anything is ruined, you're paying for it."

An innocently pervasive grin blooming on Dazai's face as he didn't struggle from your grip, "Don't worry. I think you two will get along, just like familiy."

Much like the taste of bile. Admitting Dazai was ever right had a stinging bitterness to it. One that crawled in your throat and made vomiting sound better.

To avoid such things. You simply didn't tell Dazai he was right.

Atsushi was nothing like the flake of a man who'd proposed the living arrangements.

Sweet, nervous Atsushi had made himself comfortable finally after the first month. Learning little about him each passing day. The two of you had formed a good routine between work and leisure. Taking him in really wasn't like having Dazai. For that you were thankful for.

He kept his room clean. Cleaned up after himself. Stayed quiet during the night hours. You'd taken quite a liking to him. And Atsushi seemed more relax finally.

Relaxed enough that apparently in the heat of fighting for his and another's life. He neglected to think of repercussions of certain things. Awfully similar to Dazai. You were presented barely a month and a half after the two of you got comfortable. With an eerily familiar situation.

"Please- Please I'm so sorry to ask this of you-" Atsushi was almost in hestics asking you this, "Please allow Kyouka stay." He clutched his black tie over his heart with tears threatening his lashes, "I'm sorry to ask you to do this. She has no place else to go- I've been there and I just- I couldn't let them do that to her. I'm so sorry I just-"

Sighing loud enough to interrupt his rant. You roll your head and groan, "Well, least you're sorry. That's one plus over Dazai."

Confusion very clear on Atsushi's face. You scratch at your ear and elaborate flippantly.

"You took on another person who needed help." You smiled softly at Atsushi, "Even if it meant giving the shirt off your back."

Atsushi frowned. Recalling something Kunikida told him, "...I know, I only have room on my boat for one person. I just couldn't-"

"Boat?" You couldn't help the chuckle pass your lips, "Atsushi if it's a boat, well, you've got room on this one." Gesturing around you to your home. Physically, if it were a boat, then more than just the three of you could be housed here, "Don't worry." You rested a hand on his shoulder seeing the tears break past his lashes to spill down his cheeks, "You're on my boat. And I've got room for another."

Bottom lip quivering. Atsushi didn't even ask before throwing his arms around you. Encasing you in a tightening hug when he went to bury his dampened face in the crook of your neck, "Thank you! Thank you so much."

Returning with your arms tight around his torso. You rub Atsushi's back and rest your chin on his shoulder unable to keep from laughing when the trembles of tears rattle from his chest, "I wasn't going to kick you out for doing the right thing Atsushi." The two of you break apart from the hug enough to see one another. His tear blotted cheeks wiped on your shoulder. And your smile turning up the corners of your lips. All you can do is chuckle and ruffle his hair, "We just have ourselves a little family finally filling out this big house of mine."

Atsushi's eyes fluttered quickly and he felt something twanged in his heart looking at you, "...f-family?"

"Yeah," Your smile fills him with more of the tingle constricting in his chest, "Our little family."

Atsushi went from helpful. To kicking it into full gear to take care of things around the home.

An extra body didn't accumulate much mess or extra food. But Atsushi wouldn't be swayed from his help. From cleaning more frequently. Even before you got up. To starting meals and grocery shopping with you regularly. When asked about it, all the young man could do was smile and say he enjoyed being able to help.

"You know I could do it myself." You carried one of the bag of groceries from the store as Atsushi packed the other three, "Kyouka doesn't eat too much anymore. I don't mind doing the shopping. Could give you a break you know?"

"Break?" Atsushi laughed a little nervously behind the bags crowding his vision as he followed you out, "I don't need a break at all. I like doing things for the house."

"If I didn't know better," You smiled back at him, "I think you like playing house."

Flushed with red Atsushi hid his face in the brown bags, "...It's nice to have a place to sleep. I'm just trying to show you how grateful I am for everything."

Taking a step back so you were beside him. You took a bag from his grip and added it to the one you were already holding. Freeing up Atsushi's arm just so you could link yours with his. Beaming a smile at him, "I know how grateful you are Atsushi. Don't worry. You'll always have a place with me."

That same flush on his cheeks seemed to dissipate a little. Feeling the warmth of your forearm linked around his. Atsushi felt that familiar twinge in his chest. One he was so appreciative to have after all these years. And you gave it to him. All he could ever think about was repaying you. Atsushi knew he had to do more to do just that.

"I don't think I could eat another bite." Kyouka patted her stomach after Saturday's dinner had finally ended.

You could only nod and wash down your meal with the tea Atsushi had been sweet enough to refill three times now for you, "That was amazing Atsushi. How did you even learn to cook like that?"

Laughing it off he palmed the back of his neck as the compliments came in, "I uh, I stayed a lot in the kitchen at the orphanage. It kept me away from other kids. But I did ask Kunikida for some tips for this meal."

"It was good." Kyouka groaned when she realized she was stuffed to the brim, "I couldn't eat anymore. I think I need to lay down."

"Go on to your room," You grabbed your plate a long with a few others before standing up from the table, "You too Atsushi. I'll clean up."

Kyouka didn't need another push. She was contentedly waddling to her room within seconds you heard her door shut. Atsushi on the other hand didn't budge. And when you looked back at the table to see him gathering all the other plates you were surprised.

"You don't have to worry about it Atsushi." You said softly when he placed the plates in the sink you were filling up, "You did so much, I can at least clean up for you."

"No, it's alright," He smiled at you, "I want to help you."

There was no fighting his help. And things would go twice as quick.

Standing in front of the sink. Atsushi rinsing and placing them in the drying rack after you washed them. A stagnant quietness settled between you both. But it wasn't nerve wracking or awkward. No, it felt more like you'd both been doing this for years. Like you'd lived like this forever.

Content with this feeling. You had just a few more dishes to wash. So when you leaned into Atsushi and rested your head against his. The two of you chuckled softly as dishes were finally finished up together. Clean and collected in the drying rack. It looked like a real family meal had just been had with all the clean dishes.

"I was....thinking about watching a movie." Atsushi sheepishly breached the rest of his evening plans after you both finished up.

"Oh?"

He nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, "I was- Um- Would you like to?"

Placing a hand on his wrist you nod before he short circuits, "I would love to."

Movie nights weren't new.

The two of you had sat and binged some old TV show right when he moved in. So spending time together in the living room together wasn't anything new.

What was new was the crampedness on the small couch when Kyouka heard the opening credits to a movie playing in the living room.

Normally you sat on one end. Atsushi on the other. And surprisingly you hadn't all watched TV together yet. So the seating arrangement was up in the air. Until you offered Kyouka your spot on the end. Leaving you to squish up against Atsushi or find a different seat.

Much to his insistence. He was at least reassured the arm over your shoulder as you leaned into him was far more comfortable than if he sat on the floor or you pulled up a chair. Kyouka didn't mind either way. And the girl ended up laying in your lap half way through the movie anyways.

When all was said and done. Kyouka in your lap, passed out half way through in a food coma. It left you and Atsushi snuggled together on the cramped loveseat. Feeling the gentle fall of your shoulders with steady breathing as you watched the screen flicker. You couldn't hear or feel the thump in his chest. But Atsushi swore for half the movie his heart would erupt and run out of this room at any moment.

So when the movie finally ended and his heart was in tact. Still in his chest. With you resting against him. He knew this was right where he was supposed to be.

"Kyouka," You nudged the teen awake, "Kyouka go brush you teeth and lay down."

Mumbles and grumbles here. But she didn't fight it much. Eyes still closed. The girl drug herself up from the couch and into her room. Ready for bed way before you insisted she go. Once more leaving just the two of you.

"Thank you." You swiveled around to Atsushi who seemed surprised by your words, "For the dinner and movie date."

"Oh! I- I wasn't- I mean I just thought it would be nice-"

His stammering cut off when you placed your hand on his upper thigh. Just to lean in and press a ginger kiss to his warm cheek. Words failing him. All you could do was give him a sleepy smile and thank him for the night. Before sending yourself to your room. Alone.

Bathed in soothing warm water.

Lulled by the comfort of a scratchy towel you dried off with.

And content slipping into bed with nothing under your silken gown.

You waited for sleep to reintroduce itself to you as it had been in the living room. But the tiredness you felt snuggled down in the couch next to Atsushi seemed to vanish. Even the lingering warmth from your hot bath didn't do the trick.

Laying awake in your bed staring at the ceiling. Untired for the oddest reasons.

'Atsushi is probably sleeping...'

His room right next to yours. This old house told tales when people were still awake. So the silence from the wall between you two must have meant he was asleep.

Torn by the wokeness in your bones. Flipping to your side to mindlessly face the door to your room. It was all but a coincidence when you settled and that moment later your door creaked open.

Sitting up quickly to the intruder. You thought for a second you would be alarmed. Then when the dim light of the city outside your blinds spilled onto the faceless body coming in.

"Atsushi-?" You whispered unexpectant to see his pale face in your room.

A squeak of surprise from the man. He clasped his hands over his mouth and caught your gaze with wide eyes, "I'm sorry! I just- I thought-"

"Couldn't sleep either?" You relaxed. Knowing at least who it was settled your nerves.

Reaching over to the bed side lamp. Flicking it on with a quick touch. The warm light bathed the two of you in its dull glimmer. Atsushi on his knees a bit away from your futon. He seemed as awake as you were. Still though, you two hadn't met this late yet.

"No." Atsushi finally admitted. Wringing his palms in his lap. Looking down at them with a drowning sadness to his features, "I couldn't sleep."

Sat up in your bed. Silken straps hanging down around your arms. And the deep dip in your gown that never saw the light of anything outside your bedroom. You sat all but pristine in your covers when Atsushi braved meeting your gaze once more. Sharing a heat to both your cheeks when the dark night reminded the two of you that you'd never seen one another like this.

"I've got some herbal gummies...you could try those I guess?" You offer to solve his sleepless problem.

He shook his head, "No...I don't think I need anything. I- I was tired earlier. On the couch. And thought, maybe- I don't know I'm sorry this is stupid. I shouldn't have bothered you I can just-"

"Do you want to lay with me?" You clarify what he was stumbling over his words about. If it was what was happening on the couch. Then the cuddling is exactly what had been sticking to your mind even after your bedtime routine.

He doesn't bring his eyes up from his lap. Knuckles white as he twists his hands together clearly nervous.

Just as awake as you'd been laying in bed alone. You move your legs around under the heavy comforter. It's soothing but not what your body wants. Almost stuck on the way it felt laying together on the couch. You ask him once more if he would like to lay with you.

"Y-Yes." Atsushi impulsively blurts.

Your eyes meet and you pull back the comforter. Revealing the space in your bed almost perfect for another person.

Atsushi lets go of his own hands. Leaning forward onto his hands and knees. Crawling slowly over to you in the dimly lit room. Until he stops at the edge of your futon. Looking up to see your face inches from his. Just like before, his face blooms in blush.

"....a-are you sure?" He wants nothing more than to already be in that bed with you. But his words hold him back.

Swallowing the lump growing in your throat. You reach out and touch the top of his hand without breaking eye contact, "Well....we are like a family...It's alright."

Trembling ever so slightly when he eases his way into the bedding next to you. Atsushi slips his feet under the blanket. Feeling yours brush his when he seizes. Holding his breath until you pull up the comforter a little more on both your laps and look over at him. Atsushi sitting next to you in bed. All you can do is offer a sheepish smile.

"If we were playing house, it's like you'd be the mommy." Atsushi mumbles without a second thought. But when his words settle in the air it quickly registered in him what he just said.

In an attempt to salvage his self deprecation for messing up. You rest your hand on his thigh above the comforter, "Well...doesn't daddy normally sleep in the same bed with mommy then?"

Atsushi's tongue runs over his bottom lip and it's very clear his eyes can't stay focused on your face without dropping down to dip in your gown hardly covering the tops of your breasts, "I mean- If we were playing house. Then, yeah, you're right. Heh since mommy is always right."

Almost thankful for the poor light touching all the shadows in the room. You give his thigh a squeeze. Telling him he's right. That is, if you were playing house. But mentioning also how you both should probably get some sleep.

A stagnant back and forth about turing off the light. Until finally you reach back around and flick it off. Engulfing the two of you in the same darkness of your room as both lay back down.

Facing him. And Atsushi facing you. The two of your faces are mere inches from each other when you feel the tickle of his breath on your cheek. Even the mintness from his toothpaste still faintly there. It's all but pushed to the back of your mind when you can only look at the reflection of the dampened city lights reflect in his eyes.

"...Playing house, how silly, it's like- To go to bed we'd share a good night kiss or something." Atsushi stammered in his hushed whispered.

You laugh a little, feeling your chest thudding as his body relaxes closer to yours, "Heh yea, especially after a date night. Movie and a dinner? Definitely a kiss after all that. So we could go to bed."

"So mommy and daddy could go to bed."

"Yeah...so mommy and daddy could go to bed..."

Remembering the brief kiss spared on the couch. Just a peck but still the sensation of your lips vividly real in his mind. Atsushi swallowed his fear in the moment of the night. Reaching his hand out to find your side just so when he leaned into you he couldn't miss. But miss is exactly what he did.

Cheek kiss turned to the brush of lips against lips. Atsushi found his cupids bow meeting your own with the tiny space between each other. A joke kiss. Turned real when Atsushi pushed himself into you.

Your hand came up to grab at his elbow just so you could roll closer to him. Flush against him when your lips finally met. This wasn't a joke anymore. Not with the way you gripped his arm and he gathered a fistful of your side. Just so you two wouldn't break the kiss.

Hunger over took tiredness. Lips parting when your tongue darted along his bottom lip. Atsushi opened his mouth without letting a squeak of space between the two of you. Soon it wasn't just your lips that were touching. Bodies pressed together under the heavy comforter while your legs tangled together and chests rose and fell with deep breathes. Breaking apart seemed worse than death at this point.

It had to come though. Wads of blankets getting wedged between your grinding bodies. The dreadful act of breaking the kiss apart was coming quickly. With it the fear that this would be called off. And when you finally pulled away from Atsushi. Faces close enough to feel his unsteady breaths. You reached up and grabbed him once more. Mashing your lips together best you could as words escaped you. You didn't want to quick pretending either.

Mind made of bunches of cotton fuzz taking over all his thoughts. Atsushi couldn't think straight. Couldn't act right. Hands trembling over every inch of you he wanted to touch. And touch you more is exactly what he did. The heated make out session leading to the two of you grinding against each other. His leg trapped between your legs. Had he not taken a moment to realize what was going on. Atsushi wouldn't have noticed his fistfuls of your side had hiked up your gown. In doing so, your warm puffy cunt lips were pressed to the top of his pajama pants.

As fortunate as it would seem a groping make out session would be. It wasn't enough. To either of you.

"I want more." You mumble against his lips. Feeling the buzz to your own. You honestly have no idea how far you pulled away from him to speak but nothing seems real in the heated space between the two of you.

"Lets play house." Atsushi presses his forehead, full of need and want as he grips your hips and pulls you against him, "Play house with me."

An abstract idea you both seemed to be interrupting the same way.

Full of need when his grasp finally let up on your sides. Your hips moved on their own but his thigh wasn't enough. Grabbing Atsushi's wrist just to guide his touch down to your thighs. Gown pulled up around your belly. Leaving your soft skin for him to touch instead. Atsushi hardly stopped himself when his fingers lead him to feel between your legs.

Just like the top of his thigh. His fingertips were met with the softness of your pussy lips. Grazing them when a groan left your parted lips. Atsushi suddenly found the wetness just past that. Dipping his fingers closer to your quivering core as your fingertips dug into his arms and breath became shaky.

You and his desire for more lead him to push them down deeper. Knuckles deep between your pouty cunt lips. Slick with your juices until once more Atsushi found something even more exciting. Your entrance.

One finger. It's all it took. Slimy with your juices. Atsushi slipped his finger into you with little resistance to it but the death grip on his arms growing when he swiped the single digit against your plush walls.

"A-Atsushi-" Name falling past your lips. You leaned into him just until your forehead met his. Perhaps embarrassed to be panting against his lips. It didn't stop you from rutting your hips into his touch and tightening your thighs, "Mmm- Feels good-"

A hitch in his breathing. The poor thing hadn't even paid attention to the strain of his cock against his pants. Thin fabric keeping his cock still pressed to his stomach. It didn't keep the precum from soaking through the fabric. Creating a bigger wet spot with each passing second. So when you reached down to return the favor. You felt the damp coolness from his soaked pants meet your fingertips.

"Atsushi-" You whispered against his cheek, "Lets do more."

Heart in his throat. He had no desire to turn back. With a little coaxing from you. Atsushi's finger left your needy walls only for a second. He was up on his knees. With his pants pulled down around his thighs and his cock twitching freely inches from your face.

Thick with musk. Even for all the precum his pants had soaked up. With his cock standing at attention so close to your face. Even in this darkness you could see the glimmer of precum roll down his slit as Atsushi stared down at you with a love drunk half lidded looks.

"Let mommy help..." You reached out, gripping the base of his cock as your lips engulfed his tip.

Atsushi couldn't prepare himself for the way your lips felt swallowing him up. Tongue twitching against the underside of his cock. He couldn't stop the jerk of his hips. Thankful your hand was holding his base or else he'd of accidentally thrusted down your throat. But when you looked up at him with cheeks hallowed out and sucking his cock in your own bed, Atsushi just about melted.

"Mommy helping daddy...just like in a real family..." Atsushi whispered between husky breathes. He looked down to your propped open legs. Inviting him to touch more. Compelling to help more, "Daddy can help too..."

Finding his fingers gliding on either side of your clit. He found them slick in no time as he toyed with your entrance. Reverberations of your moans on his cock. Fueling the hunger you sucked him off with. And when Atsushi didn't think you could do more. The seconds his fingers slipped knuckles deep inside you was the moment he nearly lost it.

Lips pushing past just his head. Tongue lapping at his sensitive gland with all of the glory and warmth of your cheeks milking him. Atsushi hunched over a little barely holding it together as he pumped his fingers inside you.

What was a slow and steady tease. Quickly turned to the squelch of your juices dripping and coating everything as Atsushi fingered you. Driving his fingers deep into you just when you bucked your hips up. Responsible for muffling his own moans. You were quieted by his cock in your mouth as you desperately sucked him off on your back. Legs spread wide as he stuffed and stretched your soaked slit until both of you broke from your trance.

"I want you-" Atsushi's words almost that of a tearful plea. Overstimulated simply from foreplay. With his fingers in you all he could think of was replacing them with his cock.

"Please." You grabbed him back down to you.

Sloppy. Kissing him with passion as the taste of his cock lingered between both your lips. Atsushi didn't care if it was him on your lips. Tasting your tongue on him was enough to let his body do whatever you directed it to.

So when he ended up on his back this time. Pants around his ankles. And your leg being thrown over his side. Atsushi came back to reality the second your soaked cunt drew up along his length. Coating him in your musky juices as Atsushi stared up at you with an awestruck look. When you finally noticed him staring at you. You couldn't help but ask what exactly he was staring at.

"...you're so beautiful." Atsushi murmured in all seriousness. Eyes fixated up on you in the vague light filling the room. Even with your core pressing against his cock. All he could do was stare up at you like you were the sun and moon in the sky.

Leaning forward you caught your lips on his. From the hungry motions of your bodies before. Time slowed. Cupping his face as your hips settled back. Atsushi's tip threatening to push inside you with even a little bit of movement. Just like that you stayed until the kiss slowly dissipated.

"...lets do more than just play house." You muttered against his lips. Foreheads brushing agaisnt each other when you pushed his blond hair back and kissed him briefly, "Lets live it. Every day. Together."

Atsushi's hips came up just when your weight came to rest completely on him. Every inch of his cock sinking into you in no time. The first twitch of him inside you only caused you to squeeze your hips and push down on him further. In a haze of lust just at the thought of Atsushi's cock violating the deepest parts of you.

His turn to grab your face. Atsushi reintroduced your lips. But not without the first stroke of his hips making you bounce up on his cock. Moans muffled with the kiss. It was quick to set a pace of him driving his length as deep into you as possible. Drunk of the way your walls twitched and tightened around him when he hit the right spot.

"Y-Yes-" Atsushi nodded, breathless against your lips, holding you as close to him as possible when your hips joined the fun. His thrusts being met with your hips coming down on him. The filthy noises of you two fucking being nothing but sweetness that filled the dark room together, "Please- I want to be with you every day. At work- At home- I don't want to go anywhere. I- I love you-"

"Atsushi-" You gasped against his lips. His words drowned out when his cock hit hard against your g-spot.

"I want to make a bigger family-" Atsushi panted. Slap of his thighs against yours. Fucking you with deep strokes that seemed endless even as you began tightening and trembling on him, "Please- I can move in here- Fuck- We can have another room- Fill it- Fill it with-"

"Fill it with a baby!" You smashed your lips against his to keep your noises at bay. There was no coming back. Your body doing it's own thing when your orgasm over took you. Grinding down on him like your life depended on it.

It didn't end there though. Your orgasm crashing over to Atsushi who couldn't do anything but drive himself deep into your core. His cock swelling it felt like the second he rutted deep into you and didn't let go. Not until every single drop of sticky cum poured into you. Painting your insides with thick globs of seed that wasn't going to be dripping out of you anytime soon. And with Atsushi's cock buried inside you even when he utterly relaxed under you. His seed seeped deeper into you as the two of you found it in yourselves to catch your breath.

"...do you mean that?" You bring your face from the crook of his neck. Dewy with sweat and breathing heavily. Looking down you're pretty sure you've never seen someone as handsome as Atsushi before.

With his bangs clinging to his forehead. And cheeks tinted in red mostly from exhaustion, he smiles with a sheepish nod, "I do."

A breathy laugh. All you can do is push your forehead down against his and snake your arms around his shoulders. Dazai was right, he was exactly what you needed. And at this rate there might not be any hiding it for long.

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