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onlylostphysics · 1 year

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so the lovely @livelydiver sent me an ask and when I tried to save my answer as a draft it ??? disappeared? was sent privately? literally who knows. Deeply sorry if you get two versions of this <3

my 5 DVD extras (author's commentary and deleted scenes) for elegant and restrained

1. An earlier version of the beginning:

The thing is, between one gut wound and another they haven't really touched in a while. Stede was beginning to worry that maybe Ed had had enough of that side of things, or thought that Stede didn't need any more instruction. [It's not like Ed could have found a different friend to be…. friendly with, is it? They spend all their time together. It's a small ship. It's a miracle Ed isn't sick of him yet.] There was that one night, a few days ago where they'd stayed up drinking as usual and Ed had crashed on the sofa instead of going back to his cabin and Stede had heard him… doing… breathing… He wondered why Ed didnt ask for a hand but, well, they were both supposed to be asleep. Stede had been complaining lightheartedly about the pain in his side every time he breathed that evening, so it made sense that Ed hasn't wanted to bother him. Still. Stede had been rock hard and hadn't dared move. The point is, it's been a while, and Stede is ready for more. Very, very ready. He keeps looking at Ed's arms, his throat, the line where Stede's (Ed's now, he supposes) cravat wraps around his skin.

2. I wrote A LOT of notes trying to figure stuff out for this fic:

Can I include this sculpture:

was Bernini a big deal in 1700s british society? idk Max Mad certainly wasn't but that never stopped Ed from cosplaying him. Would Stede give a fuck about sculpture? only the super life-like dudes.

What is Stede's deal:

stede commits 100% to things. he throws himself in. incredible confidence with zero skills. ed is most into it when stede isn't actually trying, is just being himself. stede likes feeling powerful, and in control (of his life).

trying to figure out when to set this fic:

set after 6, so izzy's gone and they've both been stabbed not too long ago.

set before 7, for neatness? mainly so stede's turn can be just before 8. so ed is in deep, so deep, but he's got one foot out the door because he doesn't know how into him stede is. ed taking happiness where he can. oscillating wildly between opening up his chest for stede to hold him gently and curling up into a spiky ball because this is too. much. and he's in so fucking deep.

he plans this because he still doesn't realise the depth of his feelings. he thinks this will just be fun. he wants stede to fuck him and lo, a plan appears. it's not until he's in the middle of it and stede is, god, the most incredible man he's ever met and literally inside of him and yet still not close enough that ed realises he may have fucked up.

trying to figure out Ed's thoughts:

how does ed's fantasy go. there was a lot less body worship to begin with. more force. in his head stede rips off his (ed's) clothes and bends him over the stool and kicks his legs apart and fingers him so roughly he comes immediately, and then fucks him until he's hard again. the real stede is a different kind of lunatic, and ed is gloriously aware that stede has a weird relationship with violence and he hasn't learnt the pain/pleasure line yet. stede isn't going to throw him around, so ed is going to have to manipulate things in a different direction. he was briefly worried stede was going to cry off entirely, when he went all inward and silent.

trying to decide Stede's feelings about what they're about to do:

how does he feel about buggery? it's what you hang for but he's a pirate. the boys at school probably did it? not often, it's probably the most shameful part. greek morals. it's only bad if you're receiving. stede… wants to try it anyway, because if it's morally bad then gosh it must be fun to make it worth it. stede is oblivious. sex between men is acceptable and fun, but he doesn't recognise love. buggery doesn't mean love, it's just another fun thing to do.

honestly, i feel like he thinks it's not something pirates do because it requires more effort and cleaniness and time and intimacy. so when ed suggests it, stede has a revelation. but it's more like, oh, you guys do that kind of thing too? i thought that was just my lot. not with me, but, you know. a lot of classical literature. even the boys at school were a bit more gunshy about who did that.

is he just like. oh thank god, i thought i was the only one who wanted that.

3. Some little moments that didn't fit:

the sun bright and low behind him, curving around his bare arms like paint like chiffon like a lover's hands. making unexplored waves out of his muscles, highlighting curves, deeping the lines where stede wants to run his tongue. he wants to know if that dip behind ed's shoulder is as hard as it looks, or if the muscle would give way to flesh, if ed would soften in his hands or go tense and waiting.

This whole seduction game is frankly marvellous. Stede likes to think he's becoming rather good at taking Ed's lessons and applying them to his own unique style. Perhaps he could play the hostage next time, Stede thinks, and is mildly surprised by the thrill that flashes through him.

i should check you for weapons, stede declares. this could be a trick simply to make me drop my guard.

ed's brows draw together.

i'll have to be very thorough. strip you completely, i think.

oh, ed says. yes, definitely. I have so many weapons on me. i bet you can't find them all.

stede shuffles close, pulling ed close so he's leaning against stede's chest, and this feels curiously familiar and yet deliciously new; like the first time stede got his hand on ed's cock, when he had no idea of the depths / when he had no idea how good ed could make him feel. how good he could make ed feel.

he wraps a hand around ed's beautifully flushed cock and ed groans, his head falling back on stede's shoulder.

mate, ed breathes. if you keep doing that this isn't going to last long. he turns his head, his mouth close to stede's skin and there's a wet slide that stede feels all down his spine as ed kisses his neck.

Nothing to it, Stede thinks. This could be any innocuous stretch of flesh, if he ignores the intimate bits and where Ed's standing to such attention that it curves away and out of sight beneath him.

He doesn't want to. Ignore it, that is. He could quite happily spend the rest of the day studying this new angle now that he has permission to just look, and -- and /touch/ as much as he wants.

What a miracle Ed Teach is. Stede thought he was just disinclined towards amorous activities before he met Ed.

the stretch of skin holding the, er, husband necessities,

the way being with Ed makes him feel like there's sunlight under his skin; not just warm but alive, easy and comforted and shining and happy.

"A very accomplished ravishment," Ed says. "You could probably manage without me, next time."

"Without you?" Stede echoes.

"I think we can agree I've perfected my technique with hostages," Stede says.

"Yep," Ed says. "No notes."

"Wasn't sure if you wanted to anymore," Ed says, his face turned just enough for Stede to see the curve of his cheekbone and the tip of his lovely nose.

"I always want you to," Stede says.

"Good to know," Ed says

4. This Bit:

Stede looks at his hands, from the sturdy width of his thumb to the thin length of his pinkie. Inside. Right.

Please imagine me holding up my hand with my thumb and pinkie finger extended and trying to imagine how Stede would think about this.

first draft version:

stede pulls a face. looks at his hands. pinkie or thumb, he thinks. smallest or largest. which is more like a cock.

thumb it is, circling ed's hole and then, approaching the entrance and slipping straight in and god oh god heat tight heat. ed clenches, or something, his hips not still and stede's thumb is like. fully all the way in.

more, ed gasps. so, stede has two thumbs. kneads that gorgeous flesh to the side and slides in the second one and he can't really help but pull apart, stretching ed wide as ed fucking shouts.

5. So, this bit:

"You should probably check me for weapons, though," Ed says, his neck long as he studies the floor. "This whole begging for mercy thing could just be a very clever ploy," he says, and his gaze is like a cannonball shot to the stomach when he looks up again.

"Right," Stede says, slowly, still thinking about Ed's mouth. About the time Ed put his lips on Stede's neck, and how it felt like his skin was electrified. About coming at a problem from the side, like a pirate, like an ambush.

I really struggled to get Stede to actually fucking move. Eventually I threw in the dagger, but the first attempt went like:

There's two paces of air between them and Stede closes them in a breath, his hands falling to Ed's leather-clad hips as his mouth hits Ed's and Ed makes the most wonderous noise, like the air has been punched out of him and replaced with champagne.

Oops.

#ask meme #most functional website in the world #but anyway thank you so much! <333

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headspace-hotel · 2 years

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hi! since you're autistic I was wondering if you could offer me some advice? (you don't have to--if you feel like ignoring/deleting this ask that would be fine)

I'm a part-time direct support person for an autistic adult, he's 30 and he's learning to live independently so I help him with adulting-type stuff. He's really into movies (he's GOTTA see them in theaters) and the covid lockdowns were really hard on him because the theaters closed down. Two movies that he's been following the development of were never released to theaters, even now are only on Disney+. It's something that bothers him tremendously; the main thing he talks about is wondering when Disney will re-release them to theaters. TBF he makes a lot of good arguments why they should, and his family + supporters + friends pooled some money together to rent out a theater to see one of them on the big screen! However that didn't alleviate his anxiety because it wasn't Disney themselves who officially released them :( And ofc none of us can control the actions of a multi-billion dollar international corporation.

So basically this is a subject that is constantly on his mind, brings him a lot of anxiety and bad feelings, and drives his family crazy because that's pretty much all he will talk about :( and we can't do ANYTHING to solve this problem for him, we tried, and it didn't "count" in his mind. I hesitate to use the word "obsessive" but that's what comes close. Prior to theaters shutting down he had a range of interests but he's kind of dropped all of them in favor of wondering when a corporation will officially re-release two movies into theaters, why haven't they so far, he really needs to see them, here's a hundred reasons why they should (all good reasons), etc.

How can we help him, idk, get over it? Or feel better about it? Or alleviate his anxiety in any way? It's been almost two years of zeroing in on this topic and I don't want him to worry about it anymore.

Okay, I've given this some thought because I want my answer to be as helpful as I can, so here goes:

The reason autistic "obsessions" are so intense is that they're like the carbonate limestone matrix encasing a collection of fossils.

This is both an explanation and an example.

I'm really passionate about marine invertebrate fossils right now, and it means I'm processing the world in terms of relationships to marine invertebrate fossils. The "matrix" is what makes Fossiliferous Limestone a Rock. The skeletons of those little marine critters provide the calcium carbonate to make limestone rocks, and fossiliferous limestone is Made Of fossils—it's so full of fossils, it more or less IS fossils.

(These photos are mine.)

A special interest forms the "rock" part of the autistic brain. It relates everything together. It makes your psyche a coherent, workable Thing. It allows other things, individual things, to be processed.

Nothing is small because everything is connected.

With special interests, there is an inevitable pain and difficulty that you cannot have complete control over the thing that is your "matrix," and that is difficult indeed, because it affects everything. You can't distract yourself from your frustration very effectively, because it underlies all the distractions. And it can become obsessive in a frustrating way to try to "fix" the thing you cannot control.

In your case, I feel like the painful-ness is elevated because special interests are also very connected to security and the ability to process difficult things. COVID meant a lot of fear and upheaval for everyone, and it seems like: the interruption of the special interest that COVID caused=his ability to enjoy movies=his ability to, well, deal with the chaos of COVID=his ability to use the special interest to 'process' COVID, and so on.

I'm not saying that this is like, a 'symbolic' way to cope with COVID. Doesn't work like that. I'm saying that when you're autistic your brain uses special interests to help order your world, and when your world is disordered, the special interest helps, but when the special interest is disordered...it's a mess and it feeds itself.

It is important to realize and accept that this frustration is not petty or blown out of proportion. The experience is grief. It really is. Autistic people love their favorite parts of the world very deeply. It is sometimes necessary to grieve things that are not as they should be. It does not help to pretend that the world is ordered and everything is fine, it does help to acknowledge that it is painful, it is real, and it takes time to get past.

If it sounds strange, please remember that neurotypicals experienced this too—had to grieve school years that were not as they should be, had to hold graduation ceremonies virtually or too late, had to grieve opportunities and changes.

I think we are all stressed and feel wrong because of COVID, even if we weren't impacted by the illness directly, and it's hurting us more to be unable to understand that the world simply Not Being Right has shaken us all, and this is one of the ways I think the world could stand to be more autistic. But I digress.

So, I guess I would say that it might help to process the loss as, well, a loss? Just as a late graduation ceremony doesn't fix the loss of a senior year that was interrupted by COVID, renting out a theater doesn't fix the loss of a cherished interest that was interrupted by COVID, though it may help. Sometimes things are just not right, and you can't move on from it until you can stop trying to bargain with the loss. The thing is gone. It mattered to me. A lot of us are going through that. And it hurts! So it's important to grieve.

I hope this is in some way helpful, feel free to message again if you want to ask anything else. <3

#autism #actually autistic

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bookofmirth · 2 years

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I’ve seen loads of people say Sarah was writing for e*riel since book 2, 3 or 3.5 but why does no one consider that IF she was doing something with e*riel, it could have been for an elucien story? Acowar we had elucien scenes where they made some progress. she could have written the opposite like Lucien not knowing what Elain needed or Elain refusing to interact with him. Lucien also had a whole journey with her dad. Sarah could have had Elain’s dad help them in a different way. Acofas we find out Elain gave TT right back, kind of random. We have Feyre the “biggest e*riel shipper” telling Elain to get to know Lucien. We have Mor telling Feyre elucien aren’t ready yet. Mor could have said they aren’t going to work or to let Elain tell Lucien she doesn’t want him when she’s ready. That Mor even said they needed to work it out means they have to communicate and get to know each other, why would that big space be taken from an e*riel book. Acosf we have Lucien still longing and Cassian feeling bad for him. Cassian could have thought that Lucien was wasting his time or to leave Elain alone. Nesta called Elain a wretch for avoiding Lucien, NESTA who threatened Lucien to stay away when the bond happened. Sarah has never talked about e*riel, she has talked about elucien so why does everyone give e*riel the benefit instead when it’s equally possible it was always elucien

I mean it literally always has been elucien? She has already explained why she thinks they are good together and why she made them mates. People didn't even start shipping Erica and Aaron until acowar, even though supposedly she was building it up in acomaf (lmaooooo) It's not a secret that it was always supposed to be elucien. A certain portion of the fandom just refuses to see it because... idk, because they want Az to come to them in the night and tickle them with his bat clit wings.

We've had zero sign that tells us why elucien wouldn't work. Nesta and Cassian were in a way worse place in acofas and it turned out just fine. Elain being quiet around Lucien is nothing like the things that Nesta and Cassian said to each other. To me that makes sense when you think about their personalities. When is the last time Elain did something improper? Or Lucien? No, they are going to be civilized af until they explode with repressed emotions and banging.

Nesta called Elain a wretch for avoiding Lucien, NESTA who threatened Lucien to stay away when the bond happened.

THIS lol. It was third person close, but we were told how Nesta felt about Elain being across the room. You pretty much laid out every observation from people around them. They are all waiting for something to happen. It's just a matter of time. Since we have never had either Lucien or Elain's POV, all the dialogue that you listed in this ask (which was great, btw) is the best we can have without a romance occurring off-page, which isn't going to happen. Do I want more? Yeah. Have I resigned myself to the fact that elucien are incredibly proper and have manners meaning that we will have to wait for them to be alone to have their epic miscommunication meltdown fight before making out like they've found water in the desert? Yes. 😤

Sarah loves mates and that is the predominate trope in the series. It's honestly not that deep. This fandom has always been pretty good at making mountains out of molehills, but holy shit. This series isn't a mystery, it's not a thriller, it's pretty straightforward. The curtains are just fucking blue, it doesn't mean anything else. She has beat us over the head with how great the mating bond is, she has beat us over the head with the fact that Elain has all the power and control in this situation, and she has beat us over the head with reminders to wait for their turn (IE all the evidence you have above). The end!

EDIT: all of that and I didn’t even answer your initial question lollll

I think it’s entirely possible that this little flirtation could be used to strengthen elucien. People keep saying that Gwyn was the red herring in his POV (thus proving they don’t know what a red herring is, but I digress), but I think that Elain in his POV was exactly that. Sarah knows the fandom is... the way it is. It was a convenient way to show that Az is improperly attached to women he doesn’t think will accept him, initially made us all go 😳 and then she pulled a “surprise! it’s Gwyn!” at the end. *chef’s kiss*

#elucien #ask #anon #acotar

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moonagedaydreamohyeah · 3 years

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One other thing that’s really problematic about Steve’s ending in Avwngers: Endgame, I think, is what it says about dealing with trauma.

I’ll explain. So, along with Bucky clearly being main part of Steve’s storyline, I also feel like the main theme in Steve’s story is dealing with and overcoming trauma. The trauma of loss, PTSD, and of having to find his place in the world after coming out of the ice.

A few examples of that being made more or less explicit are these:

Here we see Steve struggling to find himself and find people who get what he’s been through.

In the conversation between Steve and Sam at the VA, Sam is showing Steve that he’s not alone, that there are people who relate. Now, obviously noone else has had the experience of being frozen for 70 years only to wake up in a different time. But at the core, Steve’s trauma consists of human experiences that are not at all uncommon: Loss, guilt, and trouble finding oneself after coming back from a traumatic experience.

Sam does this the first time they meet as well, when he asks Steve if “it’s his bed that’s too soft”, showing him that he relates to what he’s going though, and making him aware that what he is experiencing is not an uncommon thing to struggle with as a war veteran.

At the VA, he tells him about loosing his “wingman” and not being able to save him, which almost relates 1:1 to the story of Steve losing Bucky in CA: TFA.

Important note: This not only makes Steve realize that there are people that relate to his trauma, it also Steve’s trauma relatable to the viewers- Which in my opinion,gives the creators a responsibility to treat that part of his storyline properly and delicately - which I actually think that they do to some degree, up until Endgame.

When Steve visits Peggy, she encourages him to start over, and move forward. What I think she is saying here isn’s that we shouldn’t grieve, but rather that in dealing with trauma, we have to accept that we can’t go back. The trauma won’t magically go away, because it has happened. And trying our best to move forward is the best that we can do.

The way I read it, what she is also doing, is that she’s saying goodbye, and telling him not to linger, but to move on, and live, ensuring him that she has already done so.

This again at it’s core, is something a lot of us can relate to - grieving for a lost love. And Peggy says it beautifully - “the best we can do is start over” - it won’t make you happy, expecting that in a couple of years you’ll find some stone that’ll magically take you back in time to that first love that you thought was going to last forever... oh...

Okay, moving on:

So the thing is, that I think Steve does move on, to some extend. In the CA: TWS we see Steve establishing relationships based on deeper connections and shared experiences with both Natasha

As well as with Sam (see/read above) ⬆

Another important example is when Steve and Sam first meet and Sam asks how it is for Steve to have woken up in the future.

In his answer, Steve is focusing on the positive sides to being in the future, which can be read as Steve healthily dealing with his situation, but it also depicts the nuances of trauma.

What I mean by that, relates back to what Peggy was saying: “We can’t go back”. Our trauma won’t magically dissappear, and then everything is all good. In order to move on, we have to accept that we will be carrying some of that baggage with us.

But that doesn’t mean that we can’t move on, that it will always be all bad. In this clip, Steve we’re right at the start of CA: TWS, and this is Steve’s first time meeting Sam, before knowing that Bucky is alive, and before having made any friends in the future. And what he’s saying is “Yeah, I miss my old life, I’ve been through something traumatic, but nothing is black and white, and I can appreciate the things that I have now”.

In CA: CW and the later Avengers movies, Steve’s continues developing new friendships, establishes somewhat of a life, and makes meaningful decisions for himself, based on his own ideals. He gets to grieve for Peggy, and even tries dating. (The whole Steve/Shannon debacle and the way she was treated, is a discussion for a whoole ‘nother day btw).

The fact that Steve gets to have Bucky back is of course already streching it in terms of realistic reprensentation of trauma. But I think that can be allowed, given that avenging Bucky and finding a tie between his old self, somebody who knew him all along, and now, makes up a complete storyline, that, aside from working really well, also tells a beautiful story about friendship.

(I mean the whole “one soulmate presumably dies, the other wakes up 70 years later, alone and feeling guilty, and it turns out his soulmate is actually alive, having been made a dangerous asset controlled by the enemy?? *cheff kiss* who comes up with that shit - okay, I might be little bit biased in this) :):):)

- Back to the point!

So, to sum up:

Steve starts off feeling completely alone because of the unique nature of of his trauma, and realizes that at the core of it, there are people who can actually relate to what he is going through (the grief of a lost love, the loss of a friend and the guilt of not being able to save them, struggling with finding yourself as well as your place in the world, in the aftermath of a traumatic experience).

He moves on and begins letting people in, letting himself grieve and establishes new ties that bind him to his surroundings, when he finds out that there is no going back, only forward, and he is in fact not alone with his experience og trauma.

Now, Idk about those of you guys that have had to go through either one of the above or other types of trauma, but to me, this process doesn’t sound unfamiliar.

I think that a lot of the reason why so many of us fell in love with Cap’s story, with the relationship between Steve and Bucky, Sam and Natasha, and the reason why these relationships are so inspired and well-written and exciting to examine in fandom content, is because this is a beautiful story about overcoming trauma in a nuanced and realistic way, of finding out that you’re not alone, and of using that knowledge to move forward.

When Steve finally gets Bucky back, everything isn’t back to normal or okay. They both have still lost, both others and parts of themselves, and they still have to process a lot of trauma, and find their place in a new time.

But that’s okay, because overcoming trauma is possible, even if it doesn’t magically go away. And it will be okay, because they have someone by their side who can get what they’re going through.

And I think a lot of us relate to that. And I also think that that’s a really important representation of trauma and of friendship and love (be it platonic or otherwise) between men, within a far-reaching franchise such as the MCU.

But oh no, MCU just had to get in a frantic Gay Panic over the fact that people fell for these beautiful dynamics and were inspired to create stories and art examining that, to more explicitely fit the reprensentation that they need, that they threw all of out the window, just to go out of their way in both Infinity War and Endgame, to ensure that there could be interpreted exactly zero Gayness between Steve and Bucky, and not even the smallest possibility of Steve not being 100% straight would be left open,

Leading to an ending that is the exact opposite of a healthy narrative when it comes to dealing with trauma:

- Little guy gets the buff body and the Girl, and then all the bad was gone and everything was perfect -

While completely ignoring the fact that he’s leaving his life and his friends behind, to go to a place where he knows nobody and his best friend is actively being tortured, and Steve will have to not be noticed in the past, probably leading to a very isolated life.

And thus, MCU managed to fuck up when it comes to appreciating their LGBTQ+ audience, representing healthy depictions of coping with trauma, as well as male friendship and non-toxic masculinity.

Only for this short clip, that would leave us all very dissapointed and confused:

Way to go.

Thanks for reading, if you made it this far:)

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xskyll · 3 years

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The BNHA x Chobits AU that no one, not even Mineta, asked for.

The ramblings of my mind under the cut. Warning, it’s loooong.

Okay, so bear in mind that I only watched four episodes of Chobits and it was probably about 14 years ago, and also I didn’t really like it, lol

-Todoroki finds Midoriya laying on some bags of trash next to a dumpster.

-First he’s like “oh no, I need an adult,” because for all his “training,” dad never actually told him what to do when he found a dead body, (this is the summer before he starts U.A., so he’s still living at home). Endeavor is away for a week, and Fuyumi doesn’t count to him (sort of an Aristocats, “she’s not [an adult,] she’s just a sister!” thing). While he’s trying to remember that the police exist, he notices this dead body has very strange ear-like things. He comes closer to investigate. There are lots of weird body types in the world, because of quirks, but these things look metal, which isn’t unheard of, but something about these ears just strike him as unnatural.

- Good news, it seems like a robot, not a dead body. The ears open easily, and there are buttons inside. A power button (that’s right CHOBITS!! It’s in the ear! My love story isn’t going to start with molestation), some USB ports, an aux port, a slot for a microchip or SIM card or whatever, some sort of safety switch (he flips that on)…what really convinces him this is totally a robot are the blutooth and volume buttons (that’s right, Midoriya in this au can charge phones AND he’s a speaker, although the volume buttons’ primary function is to control the volume of his voice).

- He has no good reason for taking this thing home. It weights a ton, it’s awkwardly naked, except for some bandages wrapped around it, which do nothing to hide how anatomically correct this robot is, and he already has a phone charger, so he really has no use for it.

- He feels weird about it though. While he was checking out the ears, he touched its face and the skin was soft and warm. He checked for a pulse, just out of curiosity, and found one. It looks like a person, aside from the ears, and it feels like a person. He feels bad leaving it in the trash. So he takes it home.

- Cue comedy routine where he gets this thing, not just in the house, but to his room without Fuyumi noticing.

- Once in his room, he hits the power switch. Nothing happens. He holds the power switch. Bingo. Robo-boy powers to life, bright, adorably large green eyes open. He’s holding it in his arms, and it’s still all tied up. It looks up at him and says hello.

- He drops it.

- He apologizes as he picks it back up, tugging at the wrappings to try to get its arms free. He realizes he needs to get pants, or at least boxers, for it, because it’s awake now and very much naked.

- For the very first time, he realizes that this adorable, thin-yet-lean-muscled, between 14-16 looking robo-boy might have been someone’s weird sex doll. They probably threw it away because they found a real person to date and they didn’t want them to know about their underage sex robot. This also sort of explains the pulse; the mystery pervert person probably programmed a fake pulse and did something to make his skin warm, to make him feel more real. Gross.

- He’s broken from these thoughts when the robot speaks. It says, “Please insert memory bank files or turn on base memory.” Todoroki is already freaking out, because this thing wants its memories, and he doesn’t have them. He opens the ear again and investigates. Next to the empty slot, there’s a small button labeled BM. Base memory? Sure, why not. He pushes it.

- The robot goes blank faced for a few seconds. When he comes to, he looks at Todoroki, then the room, then down at himself. He flexes his arms, trying to break the bands around him, but stops, saying, “Safety mode is on.”

- Todoroki finishes helping unwrap him, awkwardly doing so while pointedly looking away, once he gets to his lower half. Once he’s free, he goes and gets a pair of boxers and throws them in his direction. “Can you put them on?” He’s curious if the robot can do something like that unaided, and also he doesn’t want to cloth it himself, because even though this is a robot, it looks like a very cute boy his age. And it has a pulse. He can’t stop thinking about that.

- The robot puts on the boxers, after inspecting them for a second. He honestly does struggle to figure it out for a moment, cause he has zero common sense, but he does figure it out. It probably takes him about a minute. Once they’re on, he stands and starts inspecting the room.

- “Do you have a name?” seems like a dumb question, but he asks anyway and the robot answers, “I’m Project Midoriya.”

- Background info time. Midoriya is not fully a robot. He was kidnapped just seven months ago, coming home from school. It was the day of the sludge villain attack, but he got nabbed before they could cross paths. AFO wanted a quirkless person to experiment on. He did his research and found Midoriya Izuku, a quirkless boy with no friends and little family, who wouldn’t be missed very much. He’s confident enough that he won’t get caught that he titles his new project by its name: Midoriya. Midoriya’s memories are still in his mind, but they’re suppressed. AFO found it easier to backup his memories to a chip, so he could remove them as needed. When they were installed, Midoriya responded best to his own name anyway, so calling him that was also the easiest thing. Without his memories, AFO found him a bit annoying, because he had no social skills or common sense. He needed to be taught, which he didn’t have the patience for, so usually he just left the memories in. He was a timid boy anyway and easy to intimidate, especially if he threaten to hurt his mom.

- The cops figure his disappearance was maybe a runaway situation, but given his track record and the profile on him they’d compiled from listening to his mom, classmates, and teachers, they figure it’s more likely a kidnapping or murder. Fun fact though, he got kidnapped the day Bakugou told him to kill himself. Obviously no body is found, but he knows people go to forests to hang themselves, or put weights in their pockets and drown themselves. Those bodies can take years to find. So while all of this is happening, Bakugou is out there just every day, “what have I done, what have I done, what have I done?” When they finally see each other again, Bakugou freaks out and Midoriya’s suppressed memories are triggered. Bakugou demands answers, Todoroki is confused and defensive, and Midoriya is just, “System overload. Shutting down,” and then face plants to the floor.

- Anyway, back to Shouto. He asks Midoriya if he remembers anything. Midoriya has exactly one memory (or at least, one easily accessible memory), and it’s this: “A man. He looked like this.” He put his hand over his face. “He said, ‘Sensei put so much work into you. Why are you so useless (Deku)?’”

- More bg info, AFO gave Midoriya to Shigaraki, telling him to try to make him useful, and Shigaraki DID try for a couple of months, but he was over the whole situation after basically one day. With his memories, Midoriya was scared and traumatized, had morals, cried a bunch and sometimes tried to escape, and was just UGH. He could mute his voice, but even that didn’t help, cause this kid was just sooo annoying. Without his memories he was awkward and boring and still annoying. Eventually he just yeeted him into a trash heap, but took his memory chip, since it technically contains LoV information.

- Midoriya considers his only memory and thinks being called Deku feels sort of normal, so he says as much. “Deku might also be my name. You can call me that, if you want.” Todoroki says he’ll stick with Midoriya, because Deku isn’t a nice name for his new robot friend.

- So the first section of the story after this is fairly light-hearted. Todoroki has to keep Midoriya a secret from Endeavor and Fuyumi (I feel like she does find out eventually, but agrees to help hide him, as she sees it’s good for her little bro to finally have this (maybe?) living thing/person to talk to and take care of.) Speaking of care, Midoriya is very easy to care for. He can eat, drink, and sleep, but doesn’t need to. He has some sort of self-charging system. Most of his “care” involves teaching him social skills (which oof, blind leading the blind, but they say teaching is the best way to learn, so this is actually good for Shouto too). Embarrassing stuff happens. Fluffy stuff happens. It’s a good time.

- Shouto spends the summer with Midoriya this way. Most of their interactions are fluffy and light, but not all. The first time he comes back to his room after training with his dad, he learns two things: Midoriya has first aid knowledge programmed into him and he’s capable of crying. As the trainings continue, Midoriya eventually reveals that he has over a hundred fighting styles programmed into him and knows over 70 ways to kill a person, but he can’t access any of that information while his safety is on. Todoroki is just like, “Uuuuuh, that’s really good to know…but we’re gonna keep the safety on for now, okay? I hate my dad but also please don’t murder him. He’s famous so we wouldn’t get away with it. Also murder is bad, don’t kill people.”

- Midoriya wants to know if all heroes are like Endeavor and Shouto is like, noooo and shows him the debut video of his personal favorite hero: All Might. Watching this video is the first time Midoriya has a “System overloading. Shutting down” moment. Shouto has an absolute panic attack, because if Midoriya reboots and his memories are wiped, then he’ll have lost the best friend he ever had. But Midoriya restarts and he’s fine. He explains that sometimes he shuts down, to prevent a system failure, which would damage his…idk, hard drive or whatever. He quietly admits that the All Might video is very familiar, and he thinks maybe it used to be important to him. Shouto questions him about his memories and Midoriya theorizes that perhaps he has them backed up, but he isn’t sure how to access them.

- This is exciting for Shouto, because he thinks maybe if Midoriya experiences more “triggers,” like the video, he might regain his memories and be able to shed some light on the general mystery of where he came from/who made him/what his purpose is. Whenever Endeavor is away, he tries to sneak Midoriya out, so he can see the real world. He isn’t too concerned about his ears, because in a world of quirks, there are plenty of odd looking people around. So far he’s been wearing Todoroki’s clothes, which a little too big on him, so they go shopping and get him clothes. None of their outings seem to trigger anything, except one time when they pass a park where Midoriya and Bakugou used to play as kids. Midoriya grows quiet and seems far away for a moment, but he doesn’t overload and shakes off the familiar feeling.

- Whenever they see All Might stuff he’s just !!!!!!! He can’t remember why he likes All Might, but he remembers how he feels about him. The more All Might stuff he sees, the more his old feelings return. One day they pass a large All Might poster and Midoriya says, “I think maybe I wanted to be like him, once.”

- Eventually Todoroki starts school. He feels bad about leaving him, but Midoriya is content to stay in his room and occupy himself until Todoroki comes home. He’s part computer, so he’s a total boss at helping with math homework. He likes doing homework with Todoroki in general, because he likes learning. This is great for Todoroki’s grades because again, the teaching thing helps everything stick better for him.

- The attack on USJ happens and Todoroki sees Shigaraki, who has a hand on his face, and he’s like, “Shit, shit, shit, this is the guy who threw away Midoriya,” and he has NO idea what to do with that information. Midoriya belonging to the LoV does explain the “70+ ways to kill” programming though. He tells Midoriya what happened and Midoriya is kind of whatever about it. He says, “Maybe I belonged to villains, but I belong to you, now.” And Shouto is like, “No, no, no, no. You do not. You belong to yourself” and Midoriya is just ????

- I think for the Sports Festival, Midoriya convinces him to use his fire. It’s sort of like, “It’s your power, even though its origin is Endeavor. Just like how everything I can do is my power, even though I was programmed by villains. Being made by villains doesn’t make me a villain. Using the resources they gave me doesn’t make me a villain. Being Endeavor’s son doesn’t make you Endeavor, and using your fire doesn’t either.” Todoroki turns off Midoriya’s safety, confident he has nothing to fear.

- Midoriya watches the Sports Festival on tv (using his blutooth, he can actually just hear the volume in his head, so he can watch silently). He sees Bakugou. Seeing him on screen doesn’t have a huge impact on him, but he does feel something. Fear, unease, admiration, and affection. He’s confused and uncomfortable, and ends up looking away from the screen whenever he’s shown for too long.

- Shouto actually starts making friends at school. Being with Midoriya has taught him a lot about being kind and the joy having other people in your life can bring. Still, he doesn’t trust anyone enough to tell them about Midoriya. He’s terrified of losing him.

- For the Hosu incident, Midoriya is home alone, probably doing something on Shouto’s laptop. He sees the breaking news and is just, “Welp, that’s where Shouto, the official best person in the world, is, so guess I’m going to Hosu to make sure he’s safe.” He leaves the house alone, for the first time ever, and just runs to Hosu. Idk how far away Hosu is from the Todoroki residence, but Midoriya doesn’t fatigue and he’s also outrageously fast, so it’s fine. Also he can see in the dark, but only if he activates his night vision, which makes his eyes glow. Not good for sneaking, but very pretty and cool. I’m not sure how he finds Shouto, or how Shouto found Iida, but I imagine Stain is like, seconds from skewering him and then Midoriya comes out of nowhere and collides with Stain (which is a big deal, cause remember, Midoriya is filled with metal parts and is super heavy). They fight together and at some point Stain cuts Midoriya and he bleeds, which for Shouto is like !?!??! And then he licks his blood and the paralysis works and Shouto is just !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- Later, after the life threatening stuff is over, Todoroki has some seriously thoughts about this, because what if Midoriya is human? Or part human? That would be a huge development, and also kind of relief for him, because he sort of feels like he’s been falling in love, but he’s been desperately stomping down on those feelings, because he knows falling in love with a robot probably isn’t healthy. But falling in love with a half robot? I mean, Iida could be called part robot, with his legs, if you want to get technical about it. And Todoroki does want to get technical about it, thank you very much. If Iida is dateable, then so is Midoriya.

- Back to Hosu. They beat Stain and, after securing him, Todoroki tells Midoriya to go home, before his dad arrives. Once he leaves, he begs Iida not to tell anyone he saw him and promises to explain later. For ease of narrative, Native was unconscious the entire fight.

- Endeavor shows up, as does the Nomu. It takes Shouto but Stain rescues him. At the hospital, Todoroki explains the Midoriya situation to Iida, revealing that this incident was the first time he realized Midoriya had blood in him. Iida agrees to keep the secret, but urges Todoroki to tell someone. Maybe Aizawa. He agrees to consider, but he doesn’t want Midoriya to get taken away and like, locked up to be studied or something. He and Iida become better friends, bonding over almost dying together and sharing the secret of Midoriya.

- Midterms! Shouto scores higher because he has an awesome robot tutor. He doesn’t actually care, but good for him regardless.

- Summer field trip time. Midoriya can’t come, obviously. I’m thinking during this time, he decides to sneak out of the house and explore on his own. He feels guilty, because Shouto would worry if he knew, but he just feels this draw. He feels like maybe his old memories were important, and he’s becoming curious. He keeps thinking about the boy from the Sports Festival and about All Might. He ends up in his old neighborhood. He sees his middle school and he doesn’t remember anything, but seeing the building makes him feel lonely and sort of bad about himself. It reminds him of Shigaraki calling him Deku, and the familiar feeling that gave him. He leaves and finds himself on his old street. He isn’t close at all to his old home - he can barely see the apartment building - but he can still see it. He almost shuts down, but turns away quickly and starts back the way he came. He doesn’t remember anything, but seeing that building fills him with overwhelming emotions. The strongest one reminds him of his feelings for Shouto, but it’s different. He can’t place it, but he knows he’d die to protect Shouto, and he feels like maybe he once knew someone in that building that he would also die to protect. Once he gets home, he realizes he’s crying. He decides to sleep and he dreams of green eyes and a smile that looks like home.

- Shouto is injured during the villain attack and goes to the hospital. Once he’s released, he agrees with Kirishima that they’ll go rescue Bakugou. That whole thing pretty much goes at it did in canon, except All Might never found a successor, so he’s more powerful. He defeats AFO and does not have to retire, though he’s feeling an overwhelming pressure to find a successor now, because he knows he’s hanging on by a thread.

- Dorms!! Shouto is bringing his boy with him. He figures he can hide him just as easily there as he can at home. Getting him in is a little tricky, but he manages. From there, it’s smooth sailing.

- Except not really, because living with 18-19 other people (19 if Hitoshi is in the class, which, maybe) is way different than living with 2. Midoriya is discovered in like, a week and everyone is freaking out, most of all Bakugou, who basically breaks down. He tries to hit Midoriya and screams at him, about thinking he was dead and going to his funeral and how it was his fault and having to face his mom and did Midoriya even think about his mom??? As previously mentioned, Midoriya just shuts down and face plants to the ground.

- Shouto finally learns Midoriya’s full name. Midoriya Izuku. A+ name. Very cute. He plans to use it immediately.

- Bakugou’s insight changes the situation completely. Now they know Izuku was once 100% human and something awful happened to him. They end up bringing him to Aizawa and explaining the situation and everything they know. Todoroki gets scolded, cause Izuku could have been dangerous and he should have known better, but he doesn’t even pretend to have regrets. Endeavor would have made him throw Izuku back into the trash where he found him. His best friend isn’t trash.

- Now the name of the game is helping Izuku restore his memories. Bakugou is a huge help, but patience is required, to keep Izuku from overloading. He remembers bits and pieces at a time, all centered around Bakugou. Aizawa agrees to let him attend classes, so they can keep an eye on him. He’s also hoping a school setting might trigger more memories. He meets All Might and he doesn’t even get to announce his system malfunction before he’s out. He sees him, starts smoking at the mouth and hits the floor. All Might is very alarmed.

- Tsukauchi is made aware of the situation. He wants to keep things under wraps though. If the LoV is aware Midoriya is out and about, they may target him. If they can restore his memories though, they may gain insight into the group’s plans. That being said, he thinks it’s only right that they tell Inko. They tell her they have information on her son and make her sign a contract, agreeing not to release any information. Once she agrees, they brief her on what they know and, at the end, bring in Izuku.

- Izuku has been talking with Bakugou about his mom, to prepare for this (he usually wants Shouto with him for these conversations, and Shouto and Bakugou sort on inadvertently become friends). He can’t remember her at all, but he remembers the face in his dream. He knows it’s her. While talking, he’s shut down a few times (which drives Bakugou up the wall, and also scares him a little, cause he kind of looks dead when it happens), but he thinks he might be ready to see her now. He’s brought in and he does not shut down, not fully, but he comes close. He definitely glitches a little, maybe doing a quick reboot, quick enough that he doesn’t even fall, and his voice comes out cracked and metallic when he speaks, and there are sparks in his mouth, but he manages, “Mom?” They both cry and she holds him while he tells her, voice wavering between sounding normal and sounding robotic, that he doesn’t remember her, but he loves her, he knows he loves her so so much and he knows he’s missed her, even though he didn’t know who she was. It’s very emotional, and extremely hard for both of them when they finally have to separate, because Izuku can’t go home with her. She’s allowed to visit though, and each visit helps him restore little pieces of his memory. Between her and Bakugou, he starts making enough progress that he stops shutting down when he gains a new memory, and he starts remembering his old hopes and dreams. He doesn’t remember what AFO did to him, but he remembers enough of his past to feel self-conscious now, about his body. He breaks down one day and Shouto holds him while he grapples with his identity, his humanity, and his future.

- I’m picturing a scene where he’s crying and Shouto takes his face in his hands and explains all the beautiful things about him that make him human, and he finishes up with something corny like, “I know you, Izuku. You’re human. You have to be human, because I’m in love with you.” And then they KISS and it is ROMANTIC!

- He decides he still wants to be a hero and he becomes a real member of 1A, instead of just a visitor. The whole class helps him design a costume and come up with a name and in general are just like, “Cyborg Hero, yay!!”

- And that’s all I got. I think eventually he would fight the league, and probably retrieve his chip, giving him 100% of his memories. There’s a LOT of trauma to deal with there, because he was basically torn apart and put back together several times by AFO, but they do gain all the information they need to take down the LoV for good. And the Overhaul arc is in there. Izuku might still intern with Nighteye, because All Might is like, “Robot successor? Maybe???” and he wants Nighteye’s opinion. Nighteye can’t see his future, because he’s not fully human, but eventually he gives his stamp of approval. Eri is rescued and that’s a very personal fight for Izuku, because he identifies with what she’s gone through. And of course she loves him and thinks his ears are cute and his glowy eyes are pretty.

- Oh, and the School Festival. I honestly don’t even know what to do with him. He can learn any instrument just by like, downloading some YouTube tutorial videos. He can learn any dance by watching it once. He’s really strong, really fast, and can also operate as a speaker (though that can be awkward, cause it’s through his mouth, so he’d just be standing there with his mouth open). They might keep his role same as canon, idk. They’d probably all fight over him.

- I’m sure none of this was anything like Chobits. Sorry. I just think the ears are neat, really, and liked the idea of Izuku being a cyborg (Chobits isn’t even about cyborgs, lol).

Sorry this is outrageously long! If you want to write this into a full fic, feel free to use my ideas! Just give me a shoutout, maybe? And tell me about it, so I can read it!

#skylldraws #skyll rambles #tddk #tddk fanart #tddk au #tododeku #tododeku au #bnha #bnha x chobits #todoroki x midoriya #shouto x izuku #todoizu #tddk ficlet #tododeku ficlet #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku

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shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

“Fuck You!””I Just Might.”

Bakugou Katsuki

word count : 7.1k holy hecc

[ ✘ (nsfw!) ]

themes : nasty nasties hehe.. choking, angry sex, dom bakugou (what’s new lmao), lots of sexy vengeful teasing, & almost being caught (? idk what to call that haha)

bio : You and Ground Zero are far from getting along in almost every aspect… except for getting off perhaps.

author’s note : wow another smut whodathunkit !!! This isn’t super romantic (Happy VDay my sweets!!) but goddamn if u thirstin today drink tf up bc the SALOON IS OPEN AND HERE’S THE SPECIAL ON DA HOUSE

side note: (Y/H/N) = your hero name, also the sidekick is 100% out my ass not real bc I didn’t feel like doing legit research heheh. also, all characters are aged up to long past UA-grad in this (so everyone is 18+!!)

tagging: @lordexplosionsextra per request -- hope you enjoy bb :) happy vday!

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄰rms crossed, chest puffing in defiance, your gaze shoots daggers into his stupid smirk. “I’m not your fucking sidekick, Boom-Boy, so you can crawl back into the putrid swamp you came from and take your damn paperwork with you!”

“H-hey now,” Bakugou’s sidekick laughs nervously, hands waving in front of him as he shakes off the jab you just took at him inadvertently.

Bakugou laces his gloved fingers over his lap and kicks back in his chair, straightening his legs so his boots rest on the table across from you. “Listen, Princess, you know the rules. Whoever gets the final blow doesn’t have to do the nitty-gritty shit,” he answers, shrugging nonchalantly.

“You only got the finisher in ‘cuz I was busy doing everything else! You pop in at the last second and get all the credit and no busywork? Fuck off,” you fume, hooking your foot around the leg of his chair and ripping it toward you. Bakugou’s eyes widen as he falls backwards, tumbling onto the hard floor. He grimaces at you from the floor, vermillion eyes ablaze.

“It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to strategize! Don’t start shit you can’t fucking finish yourself!” He barks, voice spiking with fury. Ouch, that one stung your pride a little.

“You’re such an asshole,” you snarl, shoving the stack of papers off the table. The pages swirl in the air and scatter onto the tiled floor, some landing on the instigator’s lap. Bakugou’s palms crackle as his breath is stolen at your audacity. Your sidekick lets out a startled noise, jumping at the sudden popping. Bakugou’s sidekick has his hand on his temple, attempting to rub out the headache forming at this mess.

Why did you two have to hate each other so much?

The two sidekicks stand stiffly against the wall as you shove by them, Bakugou glaring at your ass as your hips swing around the doorway, out of his sight.

It’s late, the purple sky littered with the lights of the lively city. The villain you— or Bakugou, you suppose— had taken down earlier had been the last job of the day and you’re tired of the stupid bullshit he always serves you when the two of you work together.

Usually your agency kept the two of you on opposite boundaries of the patrol area, but you had begrudgingly needed help with this last offender of the day. Your quirk didn’t do incredibly well against villains with close-combat styles, but you could still manage. Unfortunately, the guy that had been causing mayhem earlier was beyond powerful up close, and he had landed a hit that knocked the wind out of you and made you slower than usual. It wasn’t a major injury or anything, but you’d probably have a nasty bruise on your torso after you took off this goddamn gimp-suit of a costume. Luckily, you had visited the in-house, agency healer in the infirmary upon arrival from the job, and they had sucked the nasty welt off your skin and redirected it somewhere else as their quirk allowed. The pain subsided mostly, just a bit sore where the bruise would’ve been.

You close the door to your office gently, a heavy sigh releasing as you make your way toward the desk. It was almost quitting time, but you still had to finish up the paperwork from the other case you had dealt with this morning. Clicking on the desk lamp, you breathe in to calm your frayed nerves, eyes closing briefly as you try to find the energy to finish your work.

The door bursts open, slamming almost immediately and tearing you out of your attempt at meditation. Bakugou stands in there, steam practically billowing from his nose and scarlet eyes flashing with agitation.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He snarls, prowling toward you with an accusatory, gloved finger raised.

“Excuse me?” You quip, irritation revitalized almost instantly. “Who do you think you are, storming into my office after the shit you pulled today?”

He stops in front of you, glowering down at you. You turn your face slightly, your eye level meeting his chest and not wanting to look at that. He was kind of muscular up close like this, you’d never noticed because you’d always created the most distance as possible between you two.

“Oh, you mean me saving your ass? Yeah, my bad, woman,” he growls, letting his gaze linger on the way your eyelashes kiss your cheek bones as you scoff, eyes closed in annoyance.

You glare at him, infuriated. “I didn’t need your fucking help! Did I ask you to come?”

He takes his time to reply, stare holding your attention briefly before he licks his lips. “No, but your sidekick did.”

The sentence is like a cold slap to the face, and you push him backwards with newfound anger. “Don’t fucking lie to me Bakugou,” you seethe, hands clenched into fists. “If you’re gonna lie at least come up with something believable!”

“Tch. She did call me, brat, and she begged me to come to your rescue like you were a goddamn damsel in distress,” he grunts, breaking eye contact with you as he hunches slightly, strong hands shoved into his pockets. Bristling at the refreshed anger rippling off of you, he already knows what you’re going to say. “She said that shitty villain got his hands on you, yeah right you had it under control.”

You don’t know what to say. You can’t really refute that the assailant had managed to hurt you, but you still wish Bakugou hadn’t heard that information. The asshole already thinks he’s the hottest shit in the agency, you really don’t want to give him any evidence of your weaknesses. So you sit on the edge of your desk, sighing once again. “I can handle one hit, dipshit,” you mutter. “It’s already healed anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, you can take care of yourself,” he grumbles, gaze flickering to your grim expression before he looks intently at the picture on your wall.

The silence that ensues is uncomfortable. You had never really talked to Bakugou before-- usually every time the two of you were together you were having a shouting match, throwing insults back and forth relentlessly. You aren’t really sure how to reply, and you absolutely did not want to acknowledge that he had come to your rescue when you actually needed him.

Bakugou is as silent as you are. He wonders where you’d been hit momentarily, before pushing off the thought because god forbid he show emotions. He’d already had his fill of feelings for the day. He sure as hell would never tell a soul, but the second he had seen your sidekick’s name flash across his phone screen this evening, his stomach dropped like he’d been the one to receive the villain's punch, not you. Shoving away the intrusive thought, his trademark scowl surfaces to his face.

“You know, I still haven’t heard a ‘thank you’.”

His irritating voice slices through the tension in the room, and you bristle at his impudence. “Gee, Ground Zero,” he ruffles at his hero name, a frown bending his thin lips,” thanks so much for stealing my job and taking the credit for it too, and really— thank you so much for the paperwork as well. I’m just so grateful.”

“Tch. Don’t be so bitchy, you know I saved your ass today so just fess up and thank me already. You’ll feel better once you spit it out,” he provokes, thick arms crossing over his chest.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, scowling at his smug face. The snarl that breaks his lips is ignored as your eyes turn to slits directed toward him.

He laughs at your malicious look, mouth transforming into a sleazy grin. He can’t stop himself even though he’s a tad hesitant, but his bold and loud nature wins out and he says cooly, “I just might.”

You gape at him, the smile on his mouth escalating your agitation. “W-What?” You choke out meekly, palms pushing you off the desk to stand upright.

He has the gall to grin, taking a step toward you. His heavy boots clunk against the floor, and you move backwards only to bump into the desk again. You cast a futile glare at the desk, and when you look back at him, he’s looming over you. “I think it’s time we acknowledge this thing we have, (Y/H/N).”

Your lips part in surprise, the blush tainting your cheeks slightly. “I have no idea what you’re referring to,” you stammer. Your arms crossing over your chest, he can’t help but notice how your breasts squish upwards, cleavage visible through your skin-tight costume.

“I think you do,” he chuckles with a low voice, gaze regarding the pink pigment gracing your cheeks. He savors it, lips curling into a smirk. His hands meeting the edge of your desk as he leans in, his body brushes against your arms. You rear back, shock evident on your face with lips parted as he tips his head to the side. He cages you in, an unfamiliar look simmering in his crimson irises. “You can feel the tension between us too. I know it, Princess.”

You’re once again at a loss for words. What the hell is happening right now? You think, mind reeling desperately to change the subject. “I hate it when you call me that,” you spit out, looking up to catch his intense stare. It wasn’t dishonest, you hated his pet name for you. Just because you weren’t as careless as him, he’d tacked the snide nickname to you awhile back because he knew it pissed you off. “It’s a stupid name that only your idiot brain could come up with.”

Take the bait, please take the bait.

“The way you treat me like I’m beneath you, what else can I call you?” His breath fans against your cheek and you hate to admit it’s fresh and minty, not at all as nasty and troll-like as you’d convinced yourself it would be. “But I guess that’s ‘cuz you really wouldn’t mind having me under your lap, right?”

You gasp at his crude suggestion, knees smacking together as your thighs clench automatically. “Fuck off, Bakugou,” your voice trembles slightly, your palms hesitantly landing on his chest. Your attempt to push him is less than half-hearted, and he smiles at your crumbling resolve.

His fingers skim along the small of your back, perching his hand on your waist. You can feel its warmth through your costume and his glove, and your body bends into his hold on its own accord, your ass pushing back while your chest grazes his. He exhales harshly, his other hand docking on the top of your stiffened thigh, thumb falling into the curve between your legs. You wish it was higher up, and the recognition of your craving makes your blush a few shades darker.

“What was that?” He snickers, lips brushing your earlobe as his nose pushes away your cascading hair. He didn’t expect you to smell so good after a long day of fighting crime.

Your fingers grab onto his costume, clawing at the material and you’re not sure if it’s in anger or desire. But Bakugou is sure, his fingers rubbing your waist as he glances at your restless hold on his costume. “Oh, bite me,” you spit out, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

His lips touch your jaw, and you can feel the sneer that rests so prominently there. “Manners, Princess… say please,” he chides, tongue poking out to trace the soft skin there.

A quiet moan escapes you and Bakugou groans loudly in response. He draws his face back to lock eyes with you, stare taught with the tension the two of you have built over all this time.

“You gonna tell me you’ve never thought about us fucking?” He inquires, eyes darting to your lips and returning to your gaze. “All those times we riled each other up, every time we pushed each other’s buttons over and over— you gonna say you never thought about getting me to shut the hell up by any means necessary?”

Your eyes roll in your head, from a combination of lust and disbelief. You cannot believe you're letting him hold you like butter in his hot hands, melting you and licking you up. You glare at him, his lips just close enough to distract you. You weren’t going to let him mould you like putty anymore. “I bet you wanna think that I have, Bakugou,” you whisper, and he looks at you with mild surprise adorning his handsome face. Your blush infects him immediately, a flush spreading over his own cheeks and he’s suddenly very glad his costume has a mask. “You think I haven’t noticed you checking me out every second of the day, Boom-Boy?”

He seems at a loss for words as your wrists wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down and level to yours. His brow bursts into a sweat as one of your hand curls around his costume’s throat piece, trailing south and following the delicious line between his pecs down his abs. Your fingernails scraping through his costume, his skin prickles as he gasps. Your lips meet his stubbled jaw, mirroring the action he had performed to you a moment ago. His fingers tighten their hold on you, his body jerking almost invisibly at the contact. “You ogle at me much more, little Miss Priss,” he says cockily even though his voice sounds forced.

It was your turn to curl your lips into a sultry smile, half-lidded eyes regarding his shocked, eager stare. “I thought I told you not to tell your phony lies, Bakugou,” your murmur against his jawline, hand curving around his pelvis and to drag down his outer thigh. “It’s a sin to lie, you know.” Your fingers skim the very ridge of the bulge in his pants, teasingly tracing the outline and watching him close his eyes, his grin seeming strained.

“You know a lot about sins, then?” he pants, sliding his hand down from your waist slowly, fingertips stretching eagerly to push into your plush ass.

You nip at his skin playfully, and he shudders in response. Your raise your head to meet his hungry gaze, your coy smile still beaming. “I might… You want me to demonstrate my knowledge?” Your tongue parts your lips, eyes falling to his slightly agape mouth. Your breath tangles, and his eyelids flutter shut as your lips graze.

The hand on your thigh grips your flesh tighter and you whimper, your mouth tingling at the harder contact of the kiss. His other hand slides south and cups your tailbone, calloused fingers bringing your ass toward him. The sudden movement surprises you, and you grab onto his neck, making his chin dip down as your hips slide into his crotch. You clash into him, your lips colliding as sparks fly through the air.

You both moan into each other’s mouths, the kiss desperate and hot. Your tongue pokes out to probe his bottom lip and he gladly receives your wet muscle with his own. Your legs trapped between his shuffle as you wiggle your hips, savoring his fiery hands gliding over your figure.

Bakugou’s hands are firm but warm, caressing your waist and hips and heating them up. He growls as your hips buck against his, rubbing the tent in his baggy pants. One of his hands slides along the smooth fabric of your hero suit, cupping the swell of your breast in his large palm as his thumb runs over your nipple. You throw your head back, and his lips gladly blaze the trail of your throat with a scorching urgency. Your fingers move to his arm pieces, clamoring at the top of the machinery near his elbows. He gladly slides the gadgets off, placing them in one of the chairs facing your desk while he rips off his black gloves. He hastily throws the neck piece onto the seat as well before he turns and captures your lips once more.

When his fingers return to your hips, you can feel the true heat of his burning palms through your bodysuit, making you arch into him wantonly. His tongue battles yours fiercely, both of you fighting for dominance as his hands glide up to your waist and fumble with your belt. You can feel his rigid muscles through his thin tank top, your hands wandering greedily underneath the right material to touch his smooth skin.

Bakugou smirks as your belt falls onto the desk, hands falling and grabbing onto your ass cheeks eagerly, pulling you closer to his body. You take the chance to shove your tongue into his mouth and he groans at the impact, jaw slackening as he allows your tongue to take control. He grinds into you slowly, making your thighs tremble with apprehension. His mouth detaches from yours, and the string of saliva connecting your tongues is sliced as his shirt flies through the air. You drink in the sight of his naked chest, muscles swelling and flexing, tapering down into a delicious V that disappears underneath his belt.

You grab the belt, yanking his body close to yours again and sighing as your lips meet once more. “You’re really man-handling me Princess,” he comments amusedly into your lips as your fingers grapple with his belt, toying with the latch.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and harnessing a moan from him,” and touch me already, pussy.”

His vermillion gaze ignites, mouth crashing onto yours as his fingers slide underneath the swell of your ass. He lifts you like you’re but a paperweight, and you moan as your legs wrap around his hips. His tongue crushing yours, his kisses so intense that your head leans back at the sizzling force. You jump slightly as your ass meets the cushion of your desk chair, eyes opening to see he’d rounded the desk and knelt in front of you. His knees on the ground, he looks up at you haughtily, hands coasting slowly down your legs toward your center. “Is this where you want me?” he feigns innocence and you glare down at him. His thumb hooks the crotch of your leotard, and he shoves the material to the side roughly, making you gasp.

The cool office air greets your cunt, making it throb even more in arousal. “Bakugou,” you whine as he watches your face, shifting your hips in a feeble attempt to catch his attention. He slinks down, lips brushing over your panties softly as he watches you squirm. He grins against the black lace, thumb curling around the skinny part of the thong over your asshole, making you shiver.

“You’re right Princess,” he grumbles, tongue gliding over the wet spot that had leaked through the material, inhaling your scent pervertedly as he closes his eyes in triumph. Your bottom lip is prisoner to your teeth again as you watch his teasing movements, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Sometimes when you’ve got me all riled up, I jerk off thinking about how good your bratty little ass would look bouncing on my dick.” You can’t help but whimper at his confession, rolling your hips against his mouth in desperation.

He smirks up at you, crimson irises glittering with savory mischief. His hands snake around your thighs, clutching onto the junction they meet your hips with vigor. He pushes your body down into the seat so you can’t wriggle any longer, and he feels your cunt clench against his chin when he nips at your panties, teeth dragging along your clit. You wail his name again lowly, harsh breaths ripping through your lungs.

He growls in response, thumb ripping the lace to the side and exhaling at the sight of your swollen cunt, grin broadening at the excessive glaze that he had caused. “Fuck,” he laments, tongue poking out to graze your clit experimentally. Satisfied with the way your hand flies to cover your mouth, he places a teasing kiss there. “You know,” he murmurs against your slick nerve,” More than once I’ve wondered how hot and sweet your cunt must be, hiding underneath this skimpy little leotard.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyebrows cinching as you glower down at him, meeting his pleased gaze. “Why don’t you find out for yourself then?” you hiss, baring your teeth at his infuriatingly proud smirk.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” Bakugou’s tongue glides along the side of your slit, making you stiffen and shut your eyes tightly. Of course he’s a fucking tease.

A knock sounds at your door to pull you out of your collapsing mind, and you sit up straight, eyes wide as Bakugou’s sidekick peeks into the room.

Bakugou stills, unsure as to who it is, staying hidden behind your desk and still holding your hips harshly.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen Ground Zero possibly? He’s stormed off as usual and I can’t find him anywhere,” the sidekick says, blinking at you with unsuspecting eyes.

“Oh, H-Hikaru,” you gulp, hesitantly placing your hands on your desk. Bakugou is quiet underneath you but you’re preparing yourself for the little shit to pull something stupid.

And he does.

Bakugou’s tongue slips between your folds suddenly, licking a large stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit, sucking in your clit and rolling his tongue around it brazenly.

“Oh my god!” you yell, hand slapping over your mouth too late. Hikaru looks at you incredulously, regarding your pink cheeks and sweaty forehead. “I can’t believe him! W-what an asshole!” you pant as Bakugou sucks harder, your pussy clenching onto itself. “He probably left so you’d do the paper… mmm, paperwork for h-him.” You abs are flexed so hard, straining in order to restrain the mess of moans that Bakugou is summoning.

Hikaru finds your tone a bit peculiar, but he continues anyway. “Uh, probably… Are you okay Y/N? You look kind of… sick,” he comments, head tilting to the left. “Did you get that jab checked out yet? I can take you to the infirmary if you want. If it’s bad I can drop you off at your place, too.”

Bakugou doesn’t like that suggestion. He doesn’t need to lick his fingers, your drenched core welcomes the digits instantly. Your walls accommodate his middle and ring finger eagerly and he smirks as they sink into you, knuckle-deep.

“Yes!” you shriek, quickly shooting a glare down at the blonde, your hair covering your face from his sidekick. “I mean— yes, I had it checked out and I’m f-fine, thank you for the concern, Hikaru,” you explain, a forced smile on your lips as you silently beg him to leave.

Bakugou stretches his fingers inside you, scissoring them to coat them in your essence before he puts them together again. His wrist strained in the forced position, he flicks the digits back and forth, almost laughing in glee as he recognizes that soft velvety spot deep within you.

Hikaru blinks at you again before he nods half-heartedly. “Okay… Well if you need me, I’ll be in the conference room doing Bakugou’s job,” he laughs, tucking out of the door and closing it finally.

“He wishes he could do my job, fucker,” Bakugou grunts, mouth immediately returning to satiating your needy hole.

You sag into the chair, a quiet moan floating out of you as Bakugou continues to finger you, his lips slurping up your clit once more. Shooting a heated look at him, you bare your teeth at him, and choke out a hiss,” Fuck you!”

Bakugou only chuckles, savoring the way your cunt throbs around his digits. “I didn’t think you were so impatient, brat.” He doesn’t slow his actions though, knuckles ramming against your skin. He enjoys the way you gasp as he moves your thigh over his shoulder, his tidy fingernails pressing into your trembling leg. “You taste pretty good, Y/N. I guess it’s just your personality that’s bitter,” he remarks, smiling against your sex as his fingers slide out of you.

You toss him a pointed look as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “Excuse you, Boom-Boy,” you chide,” only my friends get to call me that!”

“Tch, I get to eat your pussy but I can’t call you by your name? You really know how to make a guy work for it,” he scoffs, sounding mock-hurt, and now menacing over you.

You frown in response but it quickly melts into a smirk. “Don’t worry, Katsuki,” you observe how he closes his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching as his hand turns into a fist,” I’ll return the favor.” You tentatively place your hands on his belt, undoing the clasp and resting the heel of your palm against his clothed, hard cock. You gently undo the fastenings around his thick thighs, placing the belt with his grenades onto your desk cautiously. You weren’t trying to be blown up just for some dick.

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of both his black pants and underwear, annoyed with you taking your sweet ass time. His bare cock springs free, greeting your hungry gaze with an inviting sheen of sticky precum trailing down his hard length. You gawk at the sight, genuinely surprised to find he was so… well equipped.

“So this is why you’re so cocky, huh?” you state, eyes following the protruding vein running the entirety of his full, flushed member.

He barks out a laugh which dies in his throat as you press a chaste kiss to his weeping pink tip. Your tongue flat against your bottom lip, you slide his cock into your mouth and moan at the salty, provocative taste of him. His length almost as thick as your throat itself, you gag gently as you take him whole into your mouth before quickly pulling back. You place your hand around the base of his now-slick cock, your mouth sucking and bobbing on the top half of him as you jerk your fist at the same tempo.

Bakugou is much louder than you expected him to be, and the way his erotic, serrated breath is tearing from his lungs makes your pussy clench in desire. His chest heaves, the bulging muscles on his torso tense underneath his surprisingly smooth skin. Your other hand wanders up his abs, enjoying the way the ridges between them are so defined. He growls as your finger rubs over his nipple, his hand catching your wrist in a tight grasp but not doing anything to stop the action.

You purr on his cock, slippery hand leaving the base to cup his balls, eliciting a hiss from him as he sucks air in between his gnashing teeth. Confidence torrenting through your veins at his reaction, your jaw drops as wide as you can muster, your mouth gliding further down his length.

Bakugou’s empty hand collects the hair falling around your face, holding it for you as you weave back and forth. His jaw falls slack as the head of his dick rubs the back of your throat, summoning a soft gag that makes your mouth vibrate around him. Your wrist hurts a little from his tight grasp, but the way his fingernails dig into your skin makes your core shiver in delight. “Shit, Y/N.”

You don’t bother to correct him this time, thumb running over his balls just hard enough to make him shake a bit, savoring the way he is panting and quaking before you. The hand grasping your hair nimbly shimmies closer to your skull, his fingers twisting almost too tightly onto the roots of your hair. You allow him to coax your mouth closer, his arm guiding your face to take his length deeply. A low growl tears from the bottom of his lungs as you lock eyes with his impassioned stare. His hips nudge smally against your lips, his tongue poking out to run over his lip as he pulls back and glides back inside your sweltering throat.

You moan forcefully, savoring the the strangled noise that slithers from his now gaping mouth. Taking initiative once more, you begin to jerk your neck back and forth quickly, wincing as his grip tightens on your wrist. Bakugou tries his best to repress his moans but the way your bratty throat welcomes his hard cock makes him see tiny, fizzling explosions when he closes his eyes.

His hips rear back, and you almost fall off the chair as you lean in to close the distance. He catches you easily, hot hands landing on your shoulders as his gaze locks with yours, inexplicable desire sizzling between the two of you. His hands fly down to collect your ass cheeks, and he picks you up just to place the apple of your cheeks on the desk behind him. Teetering on the edge of the wooden furniture, your legs wrap around his waist, and his lips slam onto yours again. His fingers frantically running over your super suit, he snarls in frustration when he can’t find the zipper.

You laugh at him mockingly, catching his eye as you pinch the zipper on the side of your neck, the material shrinking away immediately with elasticity. He watches as your breasts pop out of the silky, neoprene-like fabric, bouncing with hardened, pink nipples standing perkily to greet him.

“No bra?” He reprimands but his time sounds more turned on than accusatory. “Princess, you’re so naughty.” His hands fly to your tits, groping the soft and supple flesh with fervor. You unzip the rest of your side, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and carefully angling your hips so you can slide the suit off into a crumpled pile on the ground. In just your tiny little thong now, Bakugou closes the gap, pressing flush against your clothed center and grinding his wet cock against your damp underwear.

Your head tilts back and you whine, gasping as his mouth slides along your throat, hot tongue caressing the tender skin. “Please, Bakugou,” you wail, his thumbs rubbing your sensitive nipples hastily.

“God, you must be tight if you’re this high-strung,” he purrs next to your ear, enjoying the way your cunt clenches noticeably underneath your panties. Speaking of those… his fingers snatch the delicate lace to the side, his other hand grabbing his dick and running his swollen tip over your slit. He dips the head into your hole but recedes instantly, brushing it over your glistening trove before repeating the action. The teasing has your head spinning, harsh pants falling from you both and mingling in the thin divide between you. He can’t take it any longer, his hips snapping into yours as his dick easily disappears halfway into your steamy, aching cunt. “I fucking knew it,” he grunts, jaw clenching as your velvety walls embrace his girth, your cry of pleasure music to his ears. “Your cunt is so snug around my cock.”

His hips push into your thighs further, only stopping once he’s balls-deep, sunk completely in your flittering sex. Hand leaving your thong to the side of your cunt, he grabs your hip and pulls your ass close. You groan at his cock nestling even deeper into your sopping hole, and your hips jerk against his as his hand curls around your lower back, securing itself so his fingers coil snugly around your waist. You choke on a sob as he thrusts into you again, his thick member prodding you in a very private place.

“You better fuck me already,” you growl at his pace that was testing your nerves, ready to be fucked into submission. Not that you were going to go down without a fight.

He chuckles cockily, a sly grin on his lips. “Your wish is my command.” His hips slam against yours and your teeth sink into his shoulder, muffling a scream of desire. He ruts into you with ease, your arousal making it almost effortless for his cock to spread the tense walls of your desperate pussy. His free hand claps against the swell of your ass, the noise slicing through the air and you scowl at him. It’s like he wants to be caught.

Ragged breaths tumble from the both of you, your saliva trickling down his chest as your teeth are still fastened into his broad shoulder. “F-Fuck, Bakugou,” you keen, each time his pelvis pressing against you tightly forcing your vision to shake.

“Katsuki,” he huffs, his left hand pushing your chin up to capture your half-lidded gaze. “Say it, Princess— fuck, tell me who’s making you feel so good,” he demands, eager to hear his name leave your lips in such an intimate way once more. His hips change tempo from his fast and hard pace to a slower, more sensual rolling motion, milking the desired reaction out of you.

The novel movement pressing deliciously against your clit, your unabashed whimpers fall onto his eager ears. Your fingers raise to pinch the top of his black eye mask, pushing the material up over his forehead so it tucks his ash blonde hair back. Looking into his eyes and admiring his uncovered, handsome features, you shoot him a sinful pout. “Ka— ah! Oh, Katsuki,” you gasp, your hands flying up to claw desperately at his muscular back.

Bakugou relishes in your lewd reply, eyes rolling back into his skull in delight. He lets out a gravely groan, increasing the tempo to a needy, impatient pace. The extra stimulation on your clit makes your legs shiver around him, your heels digging into the plush top of his ass. His hand slides back to grip around the back of your neck, leaning in to take the side of your ear between his teeth. His fingers on your throat press into your skin, his thumb pushed into your racing pulse. Hand squeezing just the right amount, it becomes pleasurably harder to breathe and you pant, tongue poking out as you wanton gaze meets his. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard Y/N,” he growls, almost snarling at you as your body bounces against his, watching your hair dance and shake around the erotic expression on your face.

“Eat shit,” your nose twitches in annoyance,” You’re gonna burst any minute now.” Your cheeks are dusted in a telling flush, your body feeling heat spread throughout. His hand tightens on your throat and you moan, loving the way your breath tears slightly.

“You’ve been clenched down on me this whole time,” he reasons, lips close enough so you can feel his ragged breath. “You can’t deny how your body reacts to me, even if you don’t want it to.”

You roll your eyes. Even buried between your legs at a time like this, he insists on pushing your buttons. “Oh, you want me to clench, Katsuki?” you inquire, tone confident in contrast to the wanton shake of your body.

He shivers as his name leaves your sinful lips, and the breath in his lungs is sucked out of him as you clamp your pussy as tight as you can around him. His hips stutter and you revel in the lustful way his face contorts, his eyes screwing shut temporarily.

When his vermillion eyes open again, his predatory gaze adding wood to the fire between your legs. “Bad girl,” he admonishes, an unruly grin lifting the corners of his mouth. His hips slam against yours, railing into you at an unimaginable speed and harshness. “That’s a cute try, Princess, but you’re gonna cum before me no matter what.”

You can’t even respond as he thrusts into you, your pants ripping through the air and mingling with the quick slapping noise echoing through the room. You hate to let him win but you can’t hold yourself off from your impending orgasm, the pressure in your core multiplying at an alarming rate as each thrust deliciously stimulates your deepest, most secret place.

“Katsuki,” you whimper, your spine arching into his touch while his hand keeps its hold on your throat. “I’m so close, please,” you beg, your toes curling forcefully as your eyes roll back.

Bakugou smiles at your submissive tone, purring out, “That’s better.” His hand leaving your throat to rub his finger on your clit, your body trembles in his hands. He leans into you and his lips conquer yours passionately, tongue darting in between your lips to caress with yours. His tongue pulls back as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, his wolfish stare daring you to follow his ensuing command. “Cum for me, Y/N.”

Your body tenses as you reach your climax, but Bakugou continues to assault your g-spot mercilessly. Your arms shake in euphoria, nails pressing in to form desperate scratches on his skin. It feels like he is snapping you in two, and you absolutely love it. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you wail out, relief washing over your limbs feeling like ice cold lemonade on a torrid summer day.

Pussy fluttering around his cock so deliciously, Bakugou moans at the new intensity. He swears as he keeps going, despite his own orgasm approaching. The image of you squirming in ecstasy underneath him makes him gasp immodestly. His hands clasp down on your hips roughly, making it even easier for him to pound into your soaked cunt as his teeth release your reddened lip. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he huffs, sweat glistening on his built chest as he thrusts into you particularly hard. “So much better than I could’ve ever imagined, holy shit, Princess.” He moans a little loudly, not holding anything back anymore. He is so fucking close.

“Katsuki, please,” you sob, your g-spot still being pummeled relentlessly, never getting a break from his assault and dragging your orgasm out longer than you thought possible. “I want your cum on me so bad!”

Bakugou throws his chin into the air, harsh breaths floating out as the flesh of your hips turns white under his oppressive grip. He grunts as he pulls out, his searing streaks of cum spurting out forcefully, shooting up to lace over your tits and down your stomach. His thighs tremble as he snarls, his first immediately jerking his cock as more of his cum gushes out of the tip. He gasps for breath, and he groans as your lips press to his captivatingly. He leans into your kiss, savoring the feeling of your sweet lips against his.

You shift in his hands, the once-rough palms now sliding over your skin carefully, fondling your body as his lips nibble at your own. You entertain it for a moment, nails trailing down his chest, thumbs rubbing into the ample muscles beneath his skin.

He pulls back, a lazy grin and satisfied eyes regarding you. “Well, that was hot,” he admits, eyebrow quirking upwards as he tries to even his choppy breath. You pull a handful of tissues out of the box on the corner of your desk, handing him a few which he gladly wipes over his drenched member. You sigh in content, head leaning back as you regulate your own breathing.

Bakugou makes you jump in surprise as he runs a new tissue along your torso, cleaning up his mess. You eye him playfully, secretly relishing in the way he is so considerate. He shuffles back a step like he can feel you appreciating his uncharacteristically caring actions, tugging up his underwear and tucking himself in with a smug grin on his lips.

“It was pretty good,” you say casually, sliding off the desk and pausing as your still-tingling core shifts, making you realize how tender you already are.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, handing you your costume from the floor. You snatch it out of his grasp condescendingly, glaring at him as you step into the leotard with quivering legs. “Pretty good?” he barks, eyeing your slow movements. “You’re still shaking, Princess.”

You shoot a glare at him, arms slipping into your costume and tucking your breasts away from his lingering eyes. “Fuck you.”

“You just did.” He replies smugly, and you ponder relieving the sudden urge you have to slap the look off his face.

“Whatever, Boom-Boy,” you quip, zipping up the side of your suit.

Bakugou chortles as he pulls on his shirt, fastening the loops around his thighs. “By the way,” he looks sideways at you with a smirk. “You came first, so I won.”

“You were, like, ten seconds behind me,” you scoff.

“After you, nonetheless,” he almost chirps, savoring in the irritation visibly building in you. He slips on his gloves, sliding his arms into his grenade-looking arm pieces. “Do I get a prize, Princess?”

You glance at his suggestive crimson eyes, pondering the idea of it. “You can choose the place next time,” you wink at him, clipping the belt on your waist with finality.

He seems pleased with the answer, his smirk widening as he steps closer to you. Your fingers pinch the bottom of his mask, dragging the material down to its correct location over his eyes. He shamelessly allows his gaze to rove over your body, recalling how tight and needy you’d been just minutes ago.

“Next time, I’m gonna make you beg,” he warns, opening the door and slipping through, seductive gaze locking with yours. “Can’t wait ‘til then, Y/H/N.”

And after that, working together became a whole lot easier.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

make sure to shoot me a comment/ask/reblog if you enjoyed ♥︎ I’d love to receive any feedback!!!

thank you so much for reading!! Happy Valentine’s Day sweethearts :)

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𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#whewwwww #somebody call the fire departmentttt lawd #lmao not to toot my own horn but this was hot #i finished this ln when i was lit af and was so pleased to find this morning when editing minimal errors and i managed to stay on track woo #ok ok ill get over myself now #bakugou fic #bnha fic #mha fic #ground zero fic #bakugou katsuki fic #bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo smut #my fics #my fics katsuki

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asherlockstudy · 3 years

Text

Uncomfortable close-up to their Valentine Newlywed answers

Since Rhett was a tad reluctant to compliment Link sincerely I decided to use my psychoanalytical skills (anyway whatever) and seek the underlying honest answers they wanted to give. This could be a bit much at times and perhaps you shouldn't read if you are not a Rhink shipper, that's why I used a cut.

"What he loves about me" Link's expression is a little confusing - maybe an attempt at doubt or self-deprecation but it looks to me more like the embarrassment of the blushing bride.

"I love your..."

Who wants to bet that the first thing that came to Rhett's mind was ass but then he changed it to the first word that came to his mind after ass? A-ccent. Like, there's just no case accent was the first thing he thought because Link's accent isn't even that strong at this point. When Link got surprised at that, Rhett simply replied that he was trying to find something funny. But even so, like I said earlier, Rhett does love Link's accent. I am sure he is fond of it, he finds it adorable. And let's not forget he said "there was so much he could choose from"!

Link looks disappointed that it's not his guess, his eyes. An interesting thing here is that although he used a personality trait for Rhett, he expected / hoped for this physical trait for himself. But don't feel sorry - Rhett has talked about his baby blues and has even gone to the ridiculous extents of planning to make a blog exclusively for Link's eyes. So don't worry; it is known that Rhett at least acknowledges the beauty of Link's eyes. At least. And Link was expecting this from a place of knowledge and not as an attempt to be silly-sappy.

Things Rhett thinks Link loves about him:

voice (Link will later say he loves his laugh and this is close, he's also enchanted every time Rhett sings so...)

height (Link once said he is attracted to "people of extreme heights")

hair (we know that)

beard (lie detector test)

giving spirit (lol totally)

creativity (they've talked about this many times)

eyebrows (if Link has said he likes Rhett's eyelashes then liking his eyebrows is certain)

Rhett was guessing from a place of knowledge too.

Rhett then said he loves stories of Link's grandma doing weird things with him and I don't like being the weirdo to spell out the weird thing but Rhett's interest in that is vaguely associated to his weird mind being always in the gutter. I don't mean it turns him on of course but he loves hearing weird stuff that border on creepy. You know it's true. Sometimes he's like that. Link took revenge for the accent joke with the psoriasis.

Wow we saw some Rhett teeth. Link answered sincerely with a super cute "I love your laugh" but Rhett just said "I love the sound your mouth makes when you don't chew". Oh well. Link regretted being sincere and Rhett, after some good laughter, defended himself by saying "he (Link) walked himself into it". This makes exactly zero sense and I am wondering whether he meant Link walked himself into it by choosing the vulnerable / sincere way. Or if he just didn't know what he was talking about.

Rhett then asks for the next answer to be complimentary. He then repeats he has strong feelings about Link's accent. Again, I believe this! In a positive light. IDK, I do believe this. Link said he has strong positive feelings for Rhett's car which I found weird like Rhett because I thought it was established Link has the better car of the two. Who knows, maybe he lied about the positive thing. Unless he connects it in his mind with memories / experiences.

Link's guess a little later:

Link: If I wanted to, I could easily... start over.

Rhett: Start over?! Like, whole life?

L: ...Yeah, just like, get a re-do.

R: Huh.

L: And I would be like "Really? How?"

R: Mmkay. I said "If you wanted to, you could easily kill me".

Okay, this gets a little deeper. I think what initially Link meant was a joke about starting over regarding his relationship with Rhett. Rhett didn't get that and asked him if he meant his whole life. Link considered that "mmyeah..." and realised it wasn't that far off from what he meant, all jokes aside. Link does wish he could start over and redo many things in his life. This surely has A LOT to do with their religious upbringing. And maybe how it affected Link's choices. Stevie's laughter is so out of place sometimes. Rhett does not laugh and tries to rush this moment. Rhett's answer about Link killing him is not exactly weird or offensive or mean as I saw some people consider it. It shows, maybe subconsiously, several things; Link's intensity, Rhett's pliable nature especially to Link and it might be more indicative of how Rhett feels about Link than anything else, at least in this video.

And then, out of nowhere, or maybe so it seems to us, Rhett goes ballistic against everyone. He starts complaining about those complaining when they didn't give each other heartfelt compliments. Link joked he agrees with them. Rhett attempted to let this slip although it angered him. The crew laughed with Link's joke, meaning they kinda sided with him, and Rhett turned basically mad at Link.

He accused Link that he did the same that day and Link entirely deflected the conversation. All I'm gonna say is that don't think they don't communicate with each other about how they approach certain situations. I wonder if at times they misunderstand each other or one changes opinion suddenly and leaves the other hanging. Link tries to stop Rhett from going on but Rhett is unstoppable at this point.

You might say Rhett was straight out mean right there and I sure was like "whoa where did this all come from, man" but mean is not a reasonable explanation. He was angry and his words show he is in a pressured state. Unless you tend to have mood swings, which Rhett doesn't really have as far as I know, you don't go from all cutesy and mischievous to furious in milliseconds. Except if there is an underlying suppressed cause. And you may ask, okay does he feel pressured to say a compliment to Link? Is this such a big deal? Well, yes and no. I don't think Rhett meant "we're not gonna hold hands" or "compliment each other" when we ask it. I think we know what he means. I think he's talking about the - well, in his words - elephant in the room. The actually serious consideration that there is something more there. The expectation that it might get revealed at any point - whether intentionally or unintentionally. Rhett loses control at that moment, which is why Link, who knows him well, warns him to not go there but Rhett still does. And again, you might say: well, no fan asked them to kiss or to confirm anything! We asked them simple stuff that can be normal between platonic friends too. Yes, but there is something we don't take often into account. The mythical crew. The mythical crew are actually the ones who monitor closely what the fans believe, want and prefer to watch. This means that the crew has to inform and discuss with Rhett and Link how much they are gonna please the audience and in what ways. Which means that a crew of 50+ people have an elaborate opinion on what fans think of Rhett and Link's relationship (next to their own opinion of course) and this has to be communicated with them face to face. In short, Rhett and Link have their privacy invaded not only by the fans but by their employees and, moreover, they are forced to always have fun with it and take it lightly. Again, you could think: well, they could forbid any rhink reference to the crew from now on. And you would think this WOULDN'T make the crew MORE suspicious at this point? All I am saying, they are fine when they make rhink insinuations / jokes voluntarily but most of the time is forced upon them by both the fans and employees and this can be uncomfortable at best if they are just friends or tyrannical if there is something more there that they still keep for themselves. So, Rhett's frustration comes from a deeper place than being expected to give a compliment. If I were in their place as I imagine it (I could always be entirely wrong) I would feel like a muppet trying to balance all my reactions towards thousands of people, with several dozens of them being paid by me to scrutinize me and order me how exactly to act!

There is a cut following Rhett's vent and you can see that Rhett is trying to calm himself down.

He speaks to himself, mumbling "yeah alright yeah ok ok" and by the expressions I can tell he acknowledges he lost control. That doesn't mean he regretted what he said - just that he said more than it benefits him to say and apparently he said a lot more in the unedited video. Kudos then to Link, who actively tries to calm his friend down and make him feel more comfortable.

This might be unpleasant to some but from his stance I conclude that Link agrees with Rhett or at least understands him. He was just wise enough to not say it out loud. Link first warned Rhett to not speak and then stayed quiet as Rhett was venting. After the cut, we see him trying to help Rhett calm down and relax and he characteristically invites Rhett to focus his attention on him and find something he really loves about him. This is not a complaint - Link is smiling and is warm to Rhett. What he essentially does is trying to help Rhett forget he is being watched by thousands and his every word is weighted, which of course is Rhett's main problem. He just says "forget about them and focus on me and just say something you love, it's all good". I just love Link here. He's supportive and caring.

The next question is what Link loves when Rhett blanks his blank and Rhett is trying to picture it-

I have no doubt Link loves that. The ear thumbing, I mean.

So, then I am adding the stills that redeemed Rhett in the fandom:

But not to be that person, it's obvious that Rhett plays it up a ridiculous lot. And not even to appease the angry fans but probably to make fun of their anger. That's why Link laughs with his face and his answer "I love remembering the time we met".

This doesn't interest me at all. Instead, I am much more interested in Link's nonsensical answer "I love remembering the time we died" because what?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Link tends to say occasionally stuff that doesn't make sense but I don't think he would pass on the chance to say something even remotely meaningful in an opportunity like this and especially regarding his relationship with Rhett. Link clarifies: "...when we died. This is heaven". There are two possibilities and only two: a) this makes ZERO sense and it's the worst and most pointless joke ever and b) this is symbolic or something only Rhett could understand. Rhett does not dismiss this as stupid or silly with his usual done look. He asks questions about it and they discuss at length about how it happened that they died and why they went to heaven since it seems they killed each other. Well, it's because they killed each other in the exact same time with a prod-like tool and they escaped Good Ol' God's (in Link's words) notice. Okay. I'm just leaving this here and you can all draw your own conclusions. Personally, I am torn between a symbolical death and rebirth when they left their religious selves behind and death being used as a well known old metaphor of a certain physical state. It would work even more if it was both. Or Link was just talking nonsense. Let's not exclude that. So yeah. That's all I had to say................

#rhink #rhett mclaughlin #link neal #gmmore #good mythical more #don't read if you don't like rhink #mythical corner #mythical

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janiedean · 3 years

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I feel bad for all the nice J*nsa shippers who like their ship for whatever reasons (tropes, pretty art, aesthetic appeal, whatever) and know it's not canon but get associated with the misogynistic Dany hating crowd who act like Jon being attracted to Ygritte is J*nsa foreshadowing because red hair (I guess Jon should fuck Edmure Tully too? Omg give me Dark!Jon getting revenge on Catelyn by seducing her brother!) Tell me something. I'm new to the fandom but was J*nsa popular before the show? And I've heard something about the OG J*nsa shippers being alienated by the new shippers who insisted it had to be canon and acted like the series is called, "A song of J*nsa #danysux." I don't find that hard to believe because I know people who are now ashamed of calling themselves J*nsa shippers. Like, at this point, it's not only rival shippers who hate it. Even Gendrya/Braime/Jon stans/etc have started disliking that ship. You know your fandom is a problem when people who have nothing to do with Jnsa have a problem with it.

me: reads this ask

me: iwastheregandalf.gif which I can't find now but

okay anon buckle up because I am sadly well-equipped to answer this ask but before I do lemme tell you dark jon seducing edmure to take revenge on cat is LITERALLY THE BEST THING I'VE EVER HEARD but *clears throat* ALL RIGHT THEN.

disclaimer: as anon says I have no issue with like the shippers mentioned by anon in the beginning and ngl I agree, I have ABSOLUTELY ZERO FUCKING STAKES in the j*nsa vs j*nerys war and the only het jon ship I gaf about is jon/ygritte and we all know where that ended up I just... have been here since 2011/adwd was over and all the fic around was just for the books under secret lj communities and asoiaf qualified for yuletide and I have... seen... things.... and I actually have like uh had... beef... with some people in there and I know things bc ppl who hated those others told me stuff so anyway *sigh* buckle up anon I'mma tell you the story of jon shipwars through the years

in order, the old gods help me here, under the cut bc this is long as fuck

when I got into fandom also given what numbers were on ao3 one ship was popular and it was sansan. no like sansan was lit. the only asoiaf ship on ao3 with more than 200 fics. jb had twenty when i checked first. jc had like around 100-ish because of the show but sansan dwarfed anything. I posted the first jon/ygritte fic on the ao3 tag and the fourth throbb fic and like the others were all reposts from lj kinkmemes. nothing was popular before the show except for sansan when it comes to huge numbers bc grrm doesn't like fic and it was all hush hush until the show made it impossible to control and that ship was the one with a huge enough fanbase it actually had numbers, so like... j*nsa wasn't popular in the way nothing else was popular until it got screentime on the show

now, that stated, j*nsa had a... fair amount of fic for a rareship which was mostly book-based and from og shippers that were there from before the show and liked it for what it was but literally none of them thought it was gonna be canon, like it wasn't huge or anything but it had a small but dedicated fanbase who did their own thing and thought it was fun/liked the idea but that was it

that fandom had their own niche of hcs that they cultivated and shit except that like... at the end of S5/beginning of S6 there was a surge in shipping for... well obvious reasons bc it was obv sansa was getting to the wall and that would have been all nice and good but a) it was the time puritanical shipping was starting to take root and the 'shipping sansa with sandor or tyrion is hella problematic' rhetoric had started to circle coming from sans*ery shippers mostly but I'mma not open that fucking can of worms here, b) while the ending of S5 had more of a theon/sansa spike, the j*nsa stuff started getting big

now here we have to mention my villain origin story ie: j*nsa fandom had this one stan whose name I won't make because honestly it's been years and if she's still around I don't want her to remember I exist who was a bnf, wrote for... the website that created the whole larry/carol thing etc who was really fixed on this thing that j*nsa was actually canon and started writing extremely popular meta about it. now you're gonna ask how do you know, I know because this person once wrote a meta named 'why robb stark is a dick' and I told her that it was really fucking bad meta and she took it so badly she kept on trash talking me on her blog/her podcast (I was apparently the insane robb stark fangirl l m a o good lord) and like that was when some sane ppl who argued with her informed me in pvt that she was basically harping on the CANON thing when they'd have been okay with like... it being crackshipping and that she was basically cultivating a hoarde of followers who were harping on them/the ogs and basically ostracizing them;

I would like to add that this person - before her tumblr got 'accidentally deleted' and remade it therefore deleted most receipts for, er, her so-called meta which included stuff like ned and cat raised sansa as a sexual object and only wanted to sell her like cattle - had at some point started a round robin fic thing where... some of the characters mocked openly said stuff that some of the og fans had said specifically targeting them and people in that side basically went harassing anyone who didn't agree with that specific notion

now never mind that this person basically coined an entire term to describe ppl who liked white guys and excused all their wrongdoings out of my conversation re robb basically lying about everything I said as if I didn't have the receipts and tried to sell shirts with it and it didn't work and like then she got kicked out of her own website because she was telling her commenters disagreeing pretty shitty insults (considering I was called psychotic for disagreeing with her that time I don't doubt it) I think at some point she stepped back from fandom bc idk wtf she's up to these days and I don't want to, but basically at that point the dam was broken and there was a bunch of puritanical shippers harping on anyone who didn't agree with j*nsa is canon endgame stuff

this also includes an incident when those ppl were like... passing themselves as throbb shippers and ended up trying to tell t*hramsay shippers off the theon tag based on moral reasons and I ended up arguing with all of them (and they were all from that crowd) which in turn landed me in contact with other og j*nsa shippers who were like detached from that fandom bc those same people harassed them away as well ssooooo fun

anyway when S6 happened everyone was high on it and whatnot but I wasn't gonna begrudge them that I mean... you shipped it for years, canon is delivering you, good for you, but then j*nerys happened

god j*nerys happened

aaand basically...... I mean personally I was there like are y'all seriously arguing about the best incest jon ship out there but like basically the j*nsa endgame side was like AH JON IS PLAYING DANY SEE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN, the j*nerys obv got defensive af and both sides were sort of alternatively shitting on jon/ygritte anyway and depicting any other romantic rship jon could have as abusive™ and during S8 it just got worse and like I tried to stay out of it but basically from what I'm seeing now idk how the j*neryses are doing but on the j*nsa one it's ah jon's gonna play dany anyway and she's going to go insane like in the show so SHOW TRUTHING EVERY OTHER WAY and like again denying that sandor exists or that tyrion exists and like I barely touch my corner (sansan) but I ended up arguing with j*nsa/th*nsa people on twitter who were antis and is2g it was white-hair inducing and I know for sure the sansa/tyrion shippers were harassed to hell and back throughout so FUN

and even if the show didn't go there now since everyone there banked on the jnsa endgame thing and admitting you're wrong is like... not a thing, they still haven't let go of it and attach to that ship any shred of evidence which honestly is grasping at straws half of the time (like... the sansa/alysanne parallels like guys please no) and which is why every other ship is starting to get fed up, attaching canon proof of stuff from other ships onto theirs see that batb argument and jb is platonic but jonsa is not nvm taking all the sansan stuff and throwing it on j*nsa but then denying that sansan has canon evidence (like guys I had to read sansa touching his shoulder when saying gregor wasn't a true knight wasn't meaningful and we were seeing things please) and blah blah blah

this also goes hand in hand with the fixation on like... villanizing dany at all costs and like is2g I have zero investment in dany or her storyline I don't even remember it and I don't particularly care abt her either way and sure af I'm not for j*nerys endgame but like.... some stuff I read is completely excessive esp when fixing on how she's a completely mad tyrant who's gonna have to be put down and like... guys no

(also there's some srs stannis hate in that corner which I honestly don't get why they even care abt stannis but I had to read stuff like ppl don't recognize that dany and stannis are the real villains in this saga and like........ idek)

I think most of the og shippers are gone or don't ship it openly bc they don't want to be attached to the drama but like I also think they're pissing off everyone else bc like... I mean a bunch of them also were down with sansa being paired with other ppl as long as it meant a good ending for her except those ppl were... like everyone but the ppl she has actual contact with in canon which meant that at some point sansa/gendry was a thing and like.... you can imagine why arya/gendry shippers & arya stans were fed up, and there's also this tendency to behave like sansa is the center of the entire saga which like these books is named a song of jon snow basically can we pls make peace with it and personally I've had it with both j*nsa and j*nerys people since they started with that dumbass JON/YGRITTE WAS AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP rhetoric but I'm also fed up with the total ignoring that sandor exists/depicting us as delusional and honestly I also was by proxy fed up from the harassing of the sansa/tyrion shippers soooooooooooo

there were also instances of 'well theon is an acceptable choice other than jon bc he can't threaten her' which... i mean we all know what that meant and I'm not even commenting it bc it's one AM and I have no force to but I don't have to explain why it's not a progressive take now do I

there were also metas about how cousin incest being legal in half of the world means that jondany is a worse incest and j*nsa doesn't count as such and I was basically there like guys please just fucking own up to it but honestly I chose to forgot where I read that and I couldn't find the link if I tried

tldr: no one wants to admit that it's not gonna be endgame which considering the amount of fic they have on ao3 is imvho useless bc they have more content than like.. anything I ship that's not jb or that's actually like canon *cries in joncon/rhaegar but I mean renly/loras is canon and has less fic than them* so idk what's the problem with enjoying that instead of insisting it's gonna be canon when not even the show validated it while show truthing anyway when the only show truthing that can be truthed is the small council made of minorities and possibly jon eventually fucking off with the wildlings but not like that but like most people who thought it wasn't gonna be endgame had left/were made to leave by the time S7 rolled by and at this point since wow isn't out yet everyone is fandom-grasping at straws to find stuff to discourse on and we're here beating dead horses *shrug*

so that's... how it is but I would again like to point out that I don't judge ppl on their shipping, I don't particularly care about this entire feud bc I only ship jon with ppl he's not related to in whichever way and I try to stay out of this mess bc I don't really care to argue with ppl who have already decided to bend canon to whatever they want and will have to realize that it's not what grrm wrote at some point but like I have a very good memory and the above rant is as objective as possible also bc again I don't literally have a stake in that race I just think romantic/endgame j*nsa is not a thing and that ppl should stay in their lane and not harping on other ppl who ship whatever in general but especially when their ship is the most popular thing in fandom in the first place /two cents

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #anonymous #ask post #anti-jonsa #anti jonsa #anti-jonerys #anti jonerys #both of them for equality

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megumis-lashes · 3 years

Note

Hi can I request Megumi with a very touchy crush

Megumi with a touchy crush HCs!

Fushiguro Megumi x Reader ^^

An: Hello! Sorry for the late response but I hope you can enjoy this anyways! Since it’s not specified I made this headcannons since that was easier! If you want anything different in future requests please specify at least: format, POV and gender! If you don’t I’ll just do whatever ^^

Contains: Touchy reader/physical contact, Megumi x reader, written with a female reader in mind but generally left as gn!, angst if you squint lol, possibly mistakes as my genius self is writing this at like 12am, just fluffff :) oh and you’re shorter than Megumi lol. (Oh and sorry if Megumi is a tad OOC in the drabble cuz his reactions can be tricky to write for 😅)

Word Count: 1.7k (I got carried away once again lol)

Soooo.... Megumi with a touchy crush? Sign me up!

Now we all know that Megumi is rather reserved and pretty straight forward so I think at first his reaction to your touchiness may be a bit awkward

Not awkward in the sense that he’s uncomfortable being around you but more as in he’s a bit.... shy

He’s not adjusted to receiving a lot of physical contacts so initially, he wasn't quite sure how to react

His overall awkwardness really depends on how long he’s known you

If he just met you during high school he would probably be a bit shocked at how comfortable you were with casual physical affection

While you would think nothing of it and treated practically everyone you knew (and were comfortable with) like this, Megumi would still be surprised

While Yuuji and Nobara would adjust to your touchiness quite quickly, Megumi would probably stay blushy about it for a month or so until he wouldn't think much about it anymore

it’d be a bit different if he knew you for a while or even knew you as childhood friends

Typically being touchy doesn't become a habit overnight sooo he’d be a lot more used to it and barely think about it

I don’t see him as one to openly accept or adjust to physical affection without being a bit shy

He’d probably tease you or question you about it from time to time and be one to begrudgingly accept affection

Totally be one to act really annoyed by your touchiness but in reality, he treasures the soft moments away from danger

All of this would change when he realizes he has a crush on you though :0

Cue blushy, awkward Megumi and oblivious you featuring another oblivious idiot, Yuuji, and an all-knowing Nobara

Megumi isn’t one to develop crushes immediately or overnight since he must value that person’s personality most of all

He thought of you as purely platonically within these first few months of knowing you untilllll his brain just clicked

He was like.... ‘Oh shoot... I have a crush....”

Having a crush is refreshing for Megumi but also quite distracting with how touchy you are

Instead of just ignoring the affection or casually playing it off, Megumi forgets how to react

Now he knows that deep down he really likes receiving affection from you cuz he realized how he likes you more than just a companion or classmate

Cue Megumi being 10 times more awkward than usual

Normally if you were to walk up to him and throw your arm over his shoulder playfully or something like that he’d either ignore it, pretend it's not happening or just playfully shove your arm off his shoulder

Now he just freezes and is like ‘oh what to do’

Would be that person who googles ‘how to act normally around your crush’ but at the same time think its stupid and stop reading the article like five minutes in lol

He’d probably have one of two reactions:

Cease to function and just stand awkwardly still or

Awkwardly pull away

...

Now as much as Megumi pretends to hate your touchiness, you do know that he’s okay with you playing around so this reaction is pretty unusual

You probably are a little confused as to why he’s acting like this

Like huhh????? I thought we were good?????

Cue Megumi continuing to be awkward for a while

Everyone became more awkward than usual since that day because the friendly atmosphere was put off due to Megumi being even more closed off than usual

He practically avoids you at this point

Ofc you start to feel bad about it

Like did you do something wrong??? Take it too far??

Touchiness has always been in your nature and seeing someone react so sharply to it makes you feel insecure about your habits so you lessen the touchiness within the friend group

and everyone notices

Yuuji misses your playfulness and Megumi is simply overwhelmed and lost within his own thoughts and emotions

Nobara is the most.... suspicious

While examining Megumi lately (not in a weird way she swears) she noticed the sudden change in behavior

That’s when she realized ‘Does the Fushiguro Megumi have a crush????’

Ofc her curiosity gets the best of her so she just has to question Megumi

So she does

After a small mission the team had gone on, she asked Megumi to talk

‘So promise to answer truthfully.’

‘Yes I promise”

‘Do you have a crush on Y/N?’

“Huh’ Megumi deadpans. This came out of nowhere

As much as he wishes to play it cool and dismiss the girl’s thoughts, he physically cannot and instead goes into blushy cannot function mode

Nobara takes notice to this immediately

‘Aha! So I was correct! Take that Yuuji!’

Yes they totally made bets on this

Once again Megumi is lost

‘Huh? Bets on what?”

‘Bets on what?”Are you seriously that oblivious? On your crush! It’s so obvious it’s painful!” She sighed dramatically

Now Megumi is even more lost

Like sure he was confused about where his crush stands but he wasn’t aware that he was obvious????

Nobara goes on to explain how stiffly he reacts to your touches and how his blush doesn’t really go unnoticed

She also explains how you were moping around lately cuz you thought you made him uncomfortable

Shocked at this new found information he rushed out of their real quick to go... idk possibly confess but be more focused on apologizing

AN: Here’s a quick scenario in first person of how that would go since I have zero self-control :0

I was settled on the small bed in my school dorm room. Placed upon a stack of pillows was my laptop, through which played whatever random Netflix show I chose. It didn’t really matter what it was as the media was quickly discarded by my mind and treated as background noise. My mind was swimming with rather..intrusive thoughts. As much as I wanted to relax and shut off my mind for the night I simply couldn’t. My thoughts continued to drift back to a certain ravenette and the issues that had circled around him for a while now. Fushiguro Megumi, a boy I met a few years back when beginning jujutsu. We were friends... or at least I considered us friends and I had taken quite a liking to the boy. Despite his distant and rather closed off personality, I had developed a casual and comfortable bond with the male... or so I thought. All changed when he started acting strangely, almost as if I had hurt him or bothered him a little too much with my habits. Admittedly I was a bit hurt over Megumi’s actions but I was more confused. I had always been touchy, so why the sudden reaction to it?

As if the world was messing with me, a knock sounding from my dorm room door shook me from my train of thought.

“Coming!” I quickly pushed the blankets and began walking towards the door. The person behind that door was definitely not who I was expecting. Behind the door stood Megumi Fushiguro, pacing lightly as his hand slightly ruffled his hair.

“Megumi?! Did you need something?” It was strange to see Megumi at my door as it was nearing 9 PM and he was usually one to avoid unnecessary intrusions.

“Oh hi Y/N. Sorry to bother you so late but I’ve come to apologize..” He explained, carding his hand through his hair nervously.

“Apologize for what exactly?” I questioned.

“For how I’ve been acting lately..” He stated. I shook my head.

“Ahh about that... I’ve been meaning to ask you something..” I mumbled. “Megumi.. do I uhh.. make you uncomfortable? I mean I know I’m kinda touchy and I’ve noticed that you uh don’t-”

“No no no! That's what I’m here to clear up about... Look it's not what you think! You don’t make me uncomfortable I’ve just been too focused on my own thoughts to realize why you may think that...’ We’re both way too oblivious’ or at least that’s what Nobara says..” He trailed off. I sighed in relief. I was happy, albeit a bit confused but still happy that he didn’t despise me.

“Ok ok.. I’m glad you don’t hate me at least!” I smiled, throwing my arm around his shoulder as I did in the past. “I do have one question though!”

“Ask away.” He quietly chuckled, finally at ease in my touches.

“What do you mean ‘we’re both oblivious’? And what does Nobara have to do with this?” I questioned, leaning my head onto the taller male’s shoulder. His eyes widened a bit as he glanced away awkwardly.

“Well, you see... I don’t really know how to say this but..”

“Just spit it out already!” I playfully slapped his back.

“I have a crush on you...” He mumbled looking away.

“....huh” I deadpanned. “That’s why you were awkward all of a sudden? All because you like me? Wait you like me?!” I shook my head, leaving the casual embrace we had settled into.

“Yeah... that’s not a bad thing is it?” He questioned, once again rubbing at his neck nervously.

“No no of course not!” I waved dramatically. “I’ll let you know that I like you too! Quite a lot actually!” I chuckled thinking of Nobara’s words. “Now I understand what she was saying about obliviousness... Now that I think about it you were sooo obvious! I'm ashamed that I didn’t notice sooner.” I sighed, coming down from my small laughing fit.

“ Hey well, I didn’t know how to act! I was trying my best ok....” He mumbled. I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his left cheek, chuckling at his blushy reaction.

“Don’t worry about it! I mean we cleared everything up didn’t we?” I pondered.

“So uhh.. do you wanna be my girlfriend then?” He questioned, looking as flustered as ever.

“I’d love that!” I smiled. Glancing at my watch my eyes widened.

“Hey, it's getting late! Why don’t you come watch Netflix with me yeah?!” I pulled the ravenette into my dorm, leaving him little time to respond. That night we drifted off together surrounded by the noise of old Netflix movies and warmed by the feeling of love.

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northcarolinanative · 4 years

Text

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐝

Requested by Anon from this prompt list: OMG I love your "Lighthouse" imagine so much!! Can you do #30 and #31 with JJ?

#30 “It’s your turn to make dinner.”/ #31 “They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.”

A/N: Hi Idk if this is exactly what you wanted, I also changed the wording of the prompt a Lil bit because it fit better and was more natural. This was so hard because I have ZERO ideas on how to write JJ as any form of a da, so coming up with a scenario to fit these in was hard. (JJ needs a lot of work before he’s ready to be a dad tbh) ALSO isn’t REALLY edited so sorry for that… I kina don’t like it but I REALLY hope you all enjoy it As always my Asks/requests/messages are open! So let me know what you think :)

It was a typical day for me, babysitting my sister’s kid. It was a small price to pay for letting me stay, rent-free in her home. I was new to Kildare Island, a fresh start was incredibly necessary after some less than pleasant rumors of me had spread around my previous high school. My parents thought that it might be best that I give myself a change of scenery. What better to help my mental health than distance and salty air right? Her daughter had grown comfortable around me, which made watching them much simpler.

I did get some free time on Fridays or the weekend when my brother-in-law or my sister were off work. It allowed me to make friends with a group of surfers that I met on the beach one afternoon. They called themselves ‘the pogues’, telling me all about the rivalry that controlled the island, to which I rolled my eyes laughing. JJ scolded me, “It’s very serious y/n.” The beach meetups turned into us hanging out by a fire in John B’s backyard, boneyard parties, and long Saturdays stretched on the HMS Pogue with a cold beer.

I loved all the pogues, but the relationship between JJ and I always seem to be different. We shared a few knowing glances that turned into lingering touches or two of us almost always engaging in sexually charged jokes when we were on the boat. We spent the most time together outside of the group, meeting up for ‘private surf lessons’ or a bite of food at the Wreck to surprise Kie. I had yet to tell any of them why I was in the Outer Banks other than shrugging and vaguely replying with “Something different.” Pope always joked saying that I was a mystery girl with a troubled past. While he was partially right, I feel like in all their minds it was much more theatrical than the truth.

I was bouncing Luna, my sister’s daughter, on my hip as I waited for her food to be heated up. My phone rang on the counter, making me jump at the noise. I glanced at the goofy picture if JJ smiling. He had taken it himself at a boneyard party after a few too many tequila shots. I swiped my finger over the answer button and held it to my ear.

“Hello Maybank, what’s up?” I said, the smile evident in my voice.

“I was thinking we could have dinner together tonight?” He asked over the phone. “John B and Pope have some college things to work on and Kie is working with her dad.” He stated, letting me know that it was just going to be us.

“Well, it is your turn to cook dinner.” I joked. We went back and forth, one of us getting or making the food for our time spent together, mostly it was when my family went out of town or were having their own beach days. “And I am rather exhausted” I laughed, hearing JJ sigh on the other end of the phone.

“How about I just grab a pizza and head over to your place?” He posed the question. It wasn’t that I didn’t want JJ to come over. I missed my friends since I had last seen them. My sister had always said as long as I was watching the kids she didn’t mind that I had a few visitors during the day, but I felt like it would be taking advantage of her generosity.

“You wanna come here, to my house?” I finally responded, my voice higher than normal.

JJ’s tone shifted immediately. “I mean I thought so, You aren’t embarrassed by me are you?” He was trying to play his question off as a joke with the awkward laugh he let out following it, but I could hear the slight hurt behind it.

“No. No.” I said quickly trying to do damage control. “I just gotta clean up a little is all,” I spoke, but mentally facepalmed at my choice of excuse.

“Be there in 20?” JJ asked

“Sounds good to me, I’ll leave the door unlocked.” With that our phone conversation was over. I set Luna down in her high chair letting her play with her toys as I did clean up the day’s mess around the kitchen and living room. I also sent a quick text to my sister letting her know that we were having a visitor.

I was wiping down the kitchen as JJ made his entrance known. “So I’m thinking we down this pizza while we watch-” He boomed, stopping when his eyes landed on Luna. He froze and his eyes went wide as he looked between me and the young child in the high chair. It took everything in me not to burst out laughing at the scene unfolding in front of me.

JJ took a stutter step back. “Is she-” He started but quickly changed his statement. “I- I didn’t know you had a kid.” He let out a deep breath.

It was at that point that I began laughing. JJ laughed a little too but it was obviously an awkward and confused laugh. “That’s because I don’t.” I saw the look of relief wash over his face and his normal bright smile settle onto his face. “This,” I walked over to Luna, rubbing the top of her head comfortingly, “is Luna, she’s my niece. I watch her during the week while her parents are at work.”

“That makes so much sense.” He said walking over to the table and setting down the box of pizza. I followed JJ and getting out plates and napkins.

“It’s good to know where you stand with kids though.” I laughed.

“It was a surprise.” He joked back. “Look it’s not your kid, so lay off okay. I feel terrible about my freak out, I was just surprised.” He said voice getting serious with his remorse.

I almost felt bad, for continuing joking with him, but not enough to stop. We began divvying up pizza slices. I place mine to the side and began cutting Lunas into small bite-sized pieces. “Surprised?” I asked JJ, “You don’t think I’m mother material?” My tone still light as I did and awkward motion referencing to myself, causing JJ to laugh. Seeing his smile made me feel better about the awkward situation.

“I mean you are the ‘mystery girl’” He referenced using air quotes. “So I didn’t know if that might have been why you were running from home. I was gonna hand it to you though, I was gonna say you hid it awfully well.” He said, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “I was also going to tell you that you didn’t have to hide things from me because you can trust me.”

I snapped my head up toward JJ as he finished his sentence. The stupid smile on my face probably said it all. I let an “Awe JJ” fall from my mouth as I took in his words and pulled him into a crushing hug. He let his arms wrap around me as one hand rested on the back of my head comfortingly. My head was laid on his chest throughout the hug, meaning could hear his still racing heartbeat and smiled to myself, knowing that I had that effect on JJ.

Check out the rest of my work?

#jj outer banks #jj maybank #jj fic #jj imagine #jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #jjm #jj maybank fic #jj mayback x reader #obx #obx imagine #obx netflix #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outerbanks imagine #outer banks netflix #outer banks pogues #pogue life #pogue style

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oliviaischillin1204 · 4 years

Text

let’s play a game

Pairings: Platonic LAMP

Word Count: 5,983 words

inspired by this post by @thetickleeraven (thank you dani!! this was why i sent you that ask a few days ago lol, i hope i did your idea justice)

imma keep it real with you chief. idk how good this is but it’s Long and also i haven’t posted anything in over a month and i miss it so i hope y’all enjoy and hopefully i will be able to keep this motivation train going

Honestly, no one could really agree on who was to blame for the game. They had just been talking about what to do for their next game night (Patton’s idea) when the subject somehow came around to how much fun they all had when they played tickling games together (Roman’s fault, of course). Then someone (Logan, probably) began brainstorming a potential set of rules and regulations, and the game was made.

But if anyone really wanted the truth, well. It was Virgil who asked if they could play it tonight. So here they were.

“Everyone remember the rules?” Logan asked, smoothing a hand over his tie like he did when he was nervous. Roman nodded, pulling out the instructions on a sparkly piece of paper.

“Each number on the die correlates to a type of laugh. 1 is snort, 2 is giggle, 3 is squeal, 4 is scream, 5 is whine, and 6 is cackle,” he recited. “My and Patton’s objective is to coax that type of laughter from our respective lees, in any way possible.”

He shot his eyes over to Logan, who pointedly did not let his gaze drop, even as his cheeks grew warmer. Next to him, Virgil was already wrapping his arms around his midriff as Patton gave him a cheeky smile.

“If the ler can accomplish his task in less than one minute, he gets two points,” Roman continued. “If he succeeds after one minute, both the ler and the lee get one point. Zero points to the ler and two points to the lee if the group agrees that the lee has lasted long enough without letting the ler win.”

Virgil scoffed. “Yeah, ‘cause that’s definitely not a biased way to measure it.”

“Oh, so you think the lee should be tickled until they give up whatever laughter their ler is looking for?” Roman asked, quirking his head innocently. “Because if that’s what you want, to get tickled and tickled until you finally break, we can change the rules now--”

“Okay! Enough!” Virgil blurted, face significantly redder than it was a few seconds before. He hugged himself tighter as Roman laughed, reaching over to pat his knee in reassurance.

“Everyone ready, gang?” Patton asked, his face full of excitement.

“Ready!” Roman chirped, while Virgil and Logan merely nodded. “Who wants to go first?”

Virgil paused, looking around the small circle before dropping his eyes to his hands in his lap. He wanted to play the game, of course, he wouldn’t have agreed if he didn’t want to do it, but the idea of going first was not looking particularly appealing to him. Luckily, Logan must have caught on to his discomfort, because the logical side drew everyone’s attention with a small cough.

“If it’s all the same,” he said, “I think I’d prefer it if Roman and I were first.”

Roman grinned. “Just can’t wait, can you?” He smirked when Logan’s face went a bit pink at his words, and he reached for the die.

“Okay, here we go...” he said grandly, somehow managing to turn a simple phrase so dramatic that the other three sides couldn’t help but laugh. He shook the die in his hand and dropped it onto the floor, allowing all four of them to watch it roll to a stop.

Patton leaned forward, straightening his glasses. “That’s a 5!”

Immediately Logan had to fight off a nervous smile, especially when Roman turned to him with a joyful look in his eyes.

“You know what to do, Specs,” he said with a certain teasy tone in his voice. “On your stomach, please.”

Logan complied without protesting, mostly because he was a little grateful to start the game on one of his less intense spots. He laid his head on his folded arms, feeling a little shy under Virgil and Patton’s curious gazes.

“One minute on the timer, starting...”

He couldn’t hear anything behind him for a few seconds, and the awful anticipation made him want to squirm. Finally, just before he was about to ask Roman if everything was alright, he felt two fingers slowly begin to walk down his spine.

“Ah-ha!” he exclaimed before he could stop himself, quickly pressing his lips into a thin line. Roman’s low chuckle from somewhere behind him was not helping in the slightest.

“Don’t be rude, Teach,” he teased, speeding up his fingers a bit as he began skimming the fingers from his other hand around his shoulderblades. “I just want to hear you whine, and what better way to do that than tickling your favorite melt spot? I mean, it is still your favorite, isn’t it?”

Logan didn’t answer, half because he didn’t want to admit that Roman was right, and half because he’s not sure what sort of noises would come out of him if he opened his mouth right now. All of his focus was on Roman’s skilled fingers, now focused on spidering down his spine to congregate on the back of his hips, occassionally giving quick scratches to the exposed stretch of skin above his pantline where his shirt had come untucked.

“Tickle tickle tickle,” Roman murmured, and wow they really should’ve made a rule against verbal teasing because it was making the fluttering feeling against his back so much more tickly. Logan found himself subtly rocking back and forth, as if he could displace Roman’s hands by moving his torso two inches to the left.

“Oh, feeling a bit wiggly, are we?” Roman asked, the smirk audible in his voice. “Hang on, I think I remember what to do here--”

Logan’s eyes went wide, but it was too late: Roman had shoved one hand up his shirt and was now grazing that one specific spot on the back of his ribs with his fingernails. Slowly, slowly, slowly.

Logan’s back arched involuntarily, and he let out a quiet, high pitched keening noise that no one could deny was a textbook whine. He began to let out quiet giggles as well, muffling the sound into his arms with no avail.

“The trick is to only do one side at a time,” he heard Roman confide in their onlookers. “Two hands makes him absolutely freak out, but one hand is just enough to--”

“Stohohop! You won!” Logan blurted through his giddy noises. He heard Roman scoff in mock offense before finally pulling his hand out of Logan’s shirt, pulling it back down and patting his back comfortingly.

“Thank you for the points, Pocket Protector! I would say I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re too upset about losing, are you?”

Logan rolled his eyes as he sat up, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Yes, yes, you passed the first round. Congratulations on your two points. Whose turn is it now?”

Patton giggled. “Our turn, silly!” He turned to Virgil, raising his eyebrows.

“Virge, you ready?”

“Yep,” Virgil replied quickly. “I’ll roll.” He snatched up the die before he could change his mind, rolling it in his palm. Something about being the one in control of the dice made him feel better, and Roman always says confidence is key, so maybe the universe would see how bold he was being and would go easy on him--?

The die dropped from his hand by accident and rolled to a stop on the floor, with the number 1 practically glowing up at him.

“Fuck off.” Thanks, universe.

To his left, Patton gave a dramatic gasp. “Virgil! Language!” His eyes narrowed, turning playfully dangerous as he continued, “Oh, you’re gonna be sorry you said that, kiddo! Roman, get the timer!”

Virgil’s eyes widened, and it took everything in him to not full on run away from what he knew he was coming; but, again, he agreed to play by the rules, so he only fought a minimal amount as Patton crawled forward to pull him to his doom.

“Patton, no, Patton, no, Patton no!”

“Patton, yes!” Patton replied, pulling the flailing anxious side towards him until Virgil’s back was leaning against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Timer’s ready,” Roman interjected with a fair bit of amusement. He started the stopwatch, holding it up so Patton and Virgil could see it.

“Are you ready, Virgil? Are you ready?” Patton cooed, watching in delight as Virgil’s ears turned bright red. “Oh, it’s tickle time! It’s tickle time! It’s ticky-ticky-ticky tickle time!”

“Pahahatton!” he protested, already slipping into giggles as he fought to keep Patton’s breath off of his ear. “No tahahalking!”

“Oh, no talking?” Patton hummed, being kind enough to not press him mouth against Virgil’s neck so he could torture him with the vibrations. “Well, if I can’t talk, maybe I’ll just have to--”

He struck before finishing his sentence, catching Virgil off guard with a big, noisy kiss right behind his ear. A sound that was half laugh, half yell escaped his lips before he slammed his hands over his mouth.

“Oh, whatcha doing, Virgil?” Patton asked, peering over to catch his eye. “You trying not to laugh, silly billy? You think you can hold it in? Aw, you’re so cute!”

He combined the compliment with a soft peck of a kiss to the back of Virgil’s ear, and a full body shiver wracked Virgil’s frame. Patton grinned, and repeated the action several more times, tightening his hold around Virgil’s waist to keep him from squirming right out of his lap.

“Do you like my kisses, Virgil? Huh? Virgey likes the kissy-kisses?”

Virgil grunted behind his hands, his eyes screwed shut in half desperation and half embarrassment.

Patton grinned. Virgil was so silly! By covering his mouth and being forced to breathe through his nose, he was making it much easier to coax those cute little snorts out of him! Speaking of which--

“Virgil,” he murmured, letting his warm breath brush over Virgil’s ear and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “I’m gonna give you to the count of three, and then you’re gonna give me those snorts. Okay? One...”

Virgil shook his head frantically, but Patton paid him no mind.

“Two...”

A choked laugh came from behind his hands, but Patton didn’t do anything. He just sat there, casually exhaling slowly over the back of Virgil’s neck. The anxious side continued to squirm, his entire body tensed for the anticipated attack, but still nothing came. He knew it was a trick, he knew it, but he couldn’t keep his muscles tensed forever, so maybe if he just relaxed for a quick second he could--

The instant Patton felt Virgil’s body go slightly slack in his arms, he pressed his lips to the back of his neck and blew the biggest raspberry he could manage.

Virgil gasped and burst out laughing in quick succession, hands dropping from his mouth as he weakly tried to push Patton away from him somehow. He inhaled loudly, letting his breath run out with his laughter, and then--

Snort.

“Gohohod dammit!” Virgil screamed through his uncontrollable giggles, face growing even redder as he made another adorable snorting sound. He was aware of Roman cheering and Logan saying something about points, but all he could think about was how desperately he needed Patton’s mouth off of his neck right now immediately.

Unfortunately for him, Patton didn’t relent, instead blowing a bunch of smaller rasperries against his neck to keep Virgil snorting for at least a few more seconds. Just so they could get a clear ruling on whether or not he’d won the points! No other reason, of course.

Finally he let Virgil go, unwrapping his arms from his waist as the other side shot his hands up to rub at his poor neck protectively.

“Got your snorties, little piggie!” Patton chirped. Virgil tried to glower at him, but the effect was ruined by his bright pink cheeks and wobbly smile.

“So that’s two points for Roman, two points for Patton, and none for Virgil or myself,” Logan repeated. “Roman, will you roll the die?”

Roman grinned. “With great pleasure, Loganberry!” He snatched up the die, only giving it a few shakes before throwing it to the floor. It bounced for a moment until it came to rest right in front of Logan.

He peered at it, and his eyes lit up in triumph. “Ah. This will be an easy one, then.”

“Why, what’d you get?” Patton asked. Logan carefully picked up the die and presented the number 2 to the group.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “And that makes this easy for you, because...?”

“Because,” Logan said stiffly, shifting his glasses, “I do not giggle.”

The other three sides paused as his words sunk in.

“Logan, buddy,” Roman said gently, “we’ve definitely heard you giggle before. Like, two minutes ago.”

Logan huffed. “Because I wasn’t trying to control myself at that point. Trust me, if given the opportunity, I am perfectly adept at withholding such light laughter.”

He wasn’t expecting Roman to suddenly cross the distance between them, kneeling before him with a focus that made him shrink back on instinct.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that, ” Roman said, pushing Logan by the shoulders until he was flat on his back, easily crawling over his hips and pinning his arms above his head with one hand. The bright and dangerous look in his eyes was enough to make Logan freeze like a trapped animal.

He heard Patton say something about the timer, but all he could focus on was Roman, as the creative side raised one hand to hover over his chest.

The two of them made eye contact for just a moment, before Roman grinned.

“The itsy, bitsy spider went up the water spout--”

Logan’s eyes bulged. “No--!”

But it was too late: Roman began spidering his fingers up Logan’s side, starting from just above his hips and lazily crawling up his torso.

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out!”

He scratched his way down Logan’s side again, taking his time to thoroughly cover the sensitive spots with tickles. Logan writhed, throwing himself as far to the other side as he could.

“Out came the sun and dried up all the rain,” Roman sang, leaning forward to blow cool air across Logan’s neck to make him squirm while his fingers focused on one specific spot halfway up his side.

“Ssst- stohohop, stop,” Logan begged. Roman ignored him in favor of tightening his grip on Logan’s wrists as he moved his fingers higher again.

“And the itsy, bitsy spider--”

“No!”

“Went up the spout--”

“Roman!”

“Again!” Roman cheered as his fingers made his way to Logan’s exposed armpit, scratching and skittering away in the ticklish little hollow. Logan bucked, twisted his body, and yanked on his arms as hard as he could, but despite everything, he did not giggle.

“Thirty seconds, Ro!” Patton called. Roman’s mouth set into a firm line.

“If you make me lose, Lo, I’ll make you regret it,” he murmured. He stopped tickling as he pulled his hand back, and Logan took the break to exhale.

“If you lose, it will be because of your own inadequacy,” he retorted, still pulling on his arms. Roman’s eyes narrowed.

“Yep, regret time starts now,” he announced, and before Logan could react, he released his hold on Logan’s wrists and attached both hands to his ribs, squeezing and prodding the bones with no rhyme or reason.

“Ro-oman! Nahahahaha- nohoho!” Logan’s shocked laughter bust out of him at the unexpected intense tickles. His hands dropped, trying to pull Roman’s hands off of his ribcage, but Roman’s vibrating fingers made him weak with laughter.

“There it is!” Roman said triumphantly. “See, we just need to break you down first, right? That’s all you need, just some big tickles so we can break down those walls!” His grin morphed into a smirk as he suddenly abandoned Logan’s ribs and grabbed his wrists once again, wiggling his free hand over Logan’s armpit.

“And now we just--”

His finger dove in, spiraling in circles around Logan’s hollow before dipping into the deepest part of his armpit. Logan gasped, body going tense for a short second before he went limp, falling into helpless giggles at the teasy pit tickles.

Virgil snickered from the sidelines, leaning over to check the stopwatch. “And with 5 seconds left, Logan loses yet again.” He laughed out loud at the petulant pout on Logan’s face, but stopped laughing as Logan sat up, grabbing the die and tossing it to him.

“Your turn, Virgil,” he said smoothly. “I do hope Patton doesn’t target your tummy next. That would just be awful for you.”

Virgil flushed as Patton and Roman laughed, but he did roll the die quickly enough that he couldn’t pretend he hated Logan’s suggestion. It bounced for a second before coming to a stop in front of Patton, whose brow furrowed in determination.

“Oh, this is a hard one,” he admitted while looking down at the 3. “Virgil doesn’t really squeal that much, ‘cause if it tickles that bad he usually just starts laughing right away.”

Virgil made an embarrassed noise. “Pat--”

“I mean, I know his giggle spots, snorty spots, cackle spots, but squeals? He’s just too ticklish to not full-on laugh--”

“Pat!”

“Hm?” Patton looked back up at Virgil’s red face, his mouth forming a small ‘o’ before breaking into a smile. “Aw, sorry, stormcloud! I didn’t mean to tease.”

Virgil grumbled, but didn’t move away when Patton gently pushed him onto his back, hands covering his stomach instinctively. “Just-- just get it over with.”

“Don’t fret, Doom and Gloom!” Roman said, setting up the timer. “You might get some points this round!”

Logan made a disagreeing noise, looking down at Virgil with a teasy smile. “Oh, I have a good deal of faith that Patton will be able to make his little ‘stormcloud’ squeal.”

Virgil groaned, head thumping back onto the floor. “Oh my God, just be quiet-- ah!”

He jerked as he felt Patton’s fingers running along his neck, swiping up at his ears and down to his collarbone.

“Maybe there’s some squeals up here? What do you think?”

“Ngh!” Virgil spluttered, fighting to keep his hands from batting at Patton’s. His nails seemed to glide over the thin skin of his neck, sending the worst kinds of tingles down his spine and making his breath come faster.

“Hm, no? Are you sure?” Patton croon, tracing a finger around and around Virgil’s ear, giggling to himself as Virgil jerked his head away from the tickles. His fingers skittered downwards, coming to rest in the middle of Virgil’s chest.

“Let’s see... where should we go...”

He hummed in consideration, fingers skimming in different directions to keep Virgil guessing as he squirmed.

“How about... right here!” he finished, darting his hands down to tase Virgil’s sides. Just as he said, Virgil immediately broke into loud laughter, body moving from one side to another in a weak attempt to dodge the fluttering fingers on either side of his torso.

“A ticky-ticky-ticky-tickle!” Patton cooed. “Tickle-tickle-tickle, little Virgey! Oh, does it tickle, honey? Yeah? It does? Oh, I bet it just tickles so bad!”

He continue to tickle and tease, even though Virgil was well past the point of squealing. His eyes were screwed shut in giddy delight, his belly laughs coming fast and clear in his sensitive state.

Patton’s fingers trailed from his sides to his ribs to his underarms. “Hm, none o these are squealy spots, huh? You’re just too ticklish, huh, Virgil?”

“Plehehease,” Virgil giggled, embarassment curling in his stomach. “Dohohon’t--”

“Just squeal for me!” he replied cheerfully. “Come on, Virgey, you can do it!”

Virgil was laughing his head off, but he still didn’t even try to fake a squeal-- just because he didn’t want to give Patton two points, of course, and not because he might have actually been enjoying the tickles.

Until, of course, Patton’s hands reared up to hover over his stomach.

“Logan had such a good idea earlier,” he chirped. “Time for tummy tickles!”

Virgil gasped, sucking in his stomach as far as it would go, but a second later his laughter exploded out of him yet again as Patton began scribbling his fingers all over his stomach without preamble.

“Ahahahahahaha! Nahahahaha!” Virgil couldn’t stop himself from shooting his hands down to cover his stomach, but Patton merely tickled all of the exposed skin that he couldn’t cover at once. His feet drummed on the floor as he fought through his laughs, and between that and Patton’s incessant teasing he almost couldn’t hear the ‘beep beep’ of Roman’s phone in the background.

“Pahahat! The timer!”

Patton pouted. “Aw, so soon?” He pulled back, giving Virgil a chance to breathe, but a small cough from one of their onlookers pulled his attention.

“Actually, Patton,” Logan interjected, “the rules clearly state that the ler may continue until the group decides that the lee has lasted long enugh.” He smirked down at Virgil before turning to Roman. “Do you think he’s lasted long enough, Roman?”

Roman put a hand to his chin and hummed in consideration. He looked down at Virgil’s blushy, teary face, before grinning.

“I think Patton can still get those squeals! That okay, Virgil?”

Virgil glared at the two of them, who return his look with shit-eating grins.

“You are so de-ead!” Virgil’s threat ended in another explosion of helpless giggles as Patton returned to his task, squishing his tummy pudge with a cheerful dilligence.

“Oh, oh, oh! Virgil! I think I see somewhere your squeals might be hiding!”

Virgil craned his neck to look at Patton’s hands, which were now clawing the air right above his belly button. He gasped again.

“Nah! Not there!” he cried, drawing his legs up to protect his stomach.

“But Virgil! I wanna play with your little button!” Patton replied, grabbing Virgil’s legs. He just wanted to pull them down so he could really give his little tickle button the attention it deserved, but then--

Virgil squeaked, loudly, when Patton’s fingers wrapped around his knee.

Virgil and Patton froze, sharing a look of surprise for a few seconds, before Patton gave him an evil grin.

“What was that, stormcloud?”

“N- nothing, nothing!” Virgil replied quickly, tugging at his legs, but he couldn’t stop Patton from gripping around his calf with one arm and clawing just above his kneecap with his other hand.

“Is this a tickle spot someone forgot to tell me about?” he asked innocently. Virgil shook his head, smile growing.

“Patton-- Popstar, please, I’ll do whatever you want, don’t ti-- don’t touch me!”

Patton tsked, swirling one finger around the bone. “Aw, I’m so sorry, honey, but you know the rules! If I find a tickle spot, I have to play with it!” He began pinching and vibrating his fingers in the muscle above Virgil’s knee, which sent him into desperate, frantic laughter, weakly trying to kick his legs out of Patton’s grip.

“You know, for someone with such tickly knees, your jeans sure have a lot of holes in them,” Patton pondered aloud, worming his fingers through one of the rips and scratching at Virgil’s bare skin.

“Wahahait-- wait!”

“Wait for what?” Patton asked, tracing his nails along his kneecap. “We’re just playing a game, right? Are you having fun, kiddo?”

Virgil’s giggles refused to dim enough for him to speak, but he still managed a small nod at Patton’s question.

“Aw, I’m having a lot of fun with you, too, stormcloud!” Patton cooed, darting a hand up to give a quick tickle to Virgil’s thighs, then to his hips, up to his tummy, back down to his thighs-- moving his hand too quickly for Virgil to predict or protect himself, all while his other hand was lazily tickling all around his bare knee.

“Tickle tickle tickle! Tickle tickle tickle! Aw, listen to those giggles! Those little giggly tickly giggles!” Patton’s teasing was pushing Virgil to the edge, the different sensations were keeping him in an unending stream of laughter, and he didn’t know how it could get any worse.

So of course, Patton chose that moment to slips his fingers around to caress the underside of Virgil’s knee, his nails tracing and stroking the thin skin.

“Tickle, tickle--”

And just like that, Virgil was squealing, loud and high pitched and desperate. He writhed on the floor, all of his attention on that one terrible little spot behind his knee. His hands came up in a useless attempt to cover his mouth.

“I did it!” Patton said triumphantly. He pulled his hands back to give Virgil room to breathe.

“You-- you--” Virgil panted, a wobbly smile on his face. When Patton continued to give him a beaming smile, he sighed and rolled his eyes fondly.

“Yeah, you did it, Pat,” he said. “Good job.”

Patton chuckled, helping Virgil lean his head in his lap so he could rest. “Good job to you to, kiddo! You lasted way more than a minute!”

“One point for Virgil, and another point for Patton,” Roman confirmed. Eyes flicking between Virgil and Logan, he gave a cheeky smile as he turned to Logan and asked, “Hey, Specs, does that mean you’re the only one without a point?”

Logan bristled. “That is irrelevant. The game is not over yet.”

Roman’s grin widened. “We’ll see.” He grabbed the die, tossing it once in the air and catching it in his palm before holding it out to Logan. “Would you care to do the honors?”

Logan plucked the die from his hand without responding, thinking to himself as he prepared to roll. Of the 6 potential outcomes, he would have the best luck with one of the rolls he’d already gotten, 5 or 2. He was confident in his abilities to withhold his snorts or his squeals, so 1 or 3 were also safe bets. And honestly, he didn’t really tend to “cackle” (which was a subjective term and not a good indicator for the game, but that didn’t stop Roman from including it anyway) so 6 was also most likely a safe bet. Therefore, he had a 5/6 chance at getting at least one point this round.

With the security of someone who knows the odds, Logan rolled the die to Roman’s feet.

Roman looked down at it, an intentionally unreadable look on his face.

“Well?”

Roman didn’t answer, instead grabbing the die and showing it to Patton and Virgil, rudely keeping it out of Logan’s view. Based on Patton’s happy gasp and Virgil’s amused huff of laughter, Logan was not amused.

“What did I roll?” he asked sharply as Roman passed the die to Patton. “Patton!”

Patton laughed aloud. “Sorry, Logi.” He held up the die for Logan to see, and the logical side’s face paled at the sight of the number 4 peering back at him.

The world abruptly spun as Logan felt himself suddenly being moved from his seated position to lying flat on his back. The fall shocked him, but to his greater surprise he realized he was still moving-- he was being dragged across the carpet by his ankles.

“No!” he yelped before he could stop himself.

“Oh, yes!” Roman said, capturing both of Logan’s ankles underneath one arm, looking over his shoulder with a terrible grin. “We all know what it takes to make you scream, isn’t that right?”

One lazy finger trailed down Logan’s left sole, and he jumped, shaking his head frantically as his lips stayed clamped shut. Roman responded by adding a second finger, this time giving just the lightest of scratches to his right sole.

“Ngh,” Logan said, eloquent as ever. Roman chuckled.

“Aw, speechless already? Gosh, you must be really ticklish here if you can’t even handle a couple fingers. Maybe I should just--”

Roman began scratching against Logan’s heels, but nearly stopped when the logical side made a desperate noise, yanking his legs as hard as he could.

“Please!”

His voice was so full of panic, it made Roman stop, looking back with genuine concern at the blushy mess of a side on the floor behind him. Logan met his eyes, but despite how desperate he had sounded a moment before, he did not try any further attempts to escape.

“Oh, you really can’t handle the buildup, huh?”

Logan shook his head, eyes screwed shut and cheeks flushed. The following silence made him tense up with anticipation.

“... Okay, okay, don’t worry, Logan. I won’t be so mean as to tease your worst spot.”

His words settled over Logan, who, after a moment of surprise, breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank--”

Roman didn’t even let him finish his sentence before shoving his fingers directly under Logan’s toes, scratching at the skin with a merciless accuracy.

Logan immediately broke into loud screams of laughter.

“Ahahahahahahaha! Nahaha! Why--? Oh Gohohohod!” His howls of laughter exploded out of him as he writhed on the floor, hands jerking as he struggled to not lean forward and hit Roman on reflex.

“I said no teasing!” Roman defended, calling out over Logan’s wild laughter. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t tickle! Thanks for the points, Logan!”

He wormed his fingers in between Logan’s toes, scratching his nails along the stems, and Logan’s screams heightened to shrieks. One hand went to fruitlessly cover his mouth, while the other started started banging on the floor in desperation.

Roman, to his credit, didn’t tease, but he also didn’t stop tickling him, even though Logan had definitely already lost this round. What’s more, he kept going for a long time, longer than he should’ve, and had the timer really not gone off yet--?

Logan turned his head, blinking the laughter-induced tears out of his eyes as he tried to focus on the others, but all he saw was Patton smiling down at Virgil as he played with his hair. His phone sat untouched beside him.

Logan made an affronted noise through his laughter, waving an arm around to get Patton’s attention.

“Pahahat-- Patton! Timeheher!”

Patton snapped up, looking at Logan with confusion before his expression became guilty.

“Oh, gosh, was I supposed to set the timer? I’m sorry, Logan, I totally forgot!”

Roman laughed out loud at this revelation, and eased up on the tickling until he was merely skimming Logan’s soles. Virgil sat up and gave Logan a taunting grin.

“Sucks to suck, Teach,” he drawled. “It’s not Patton’s fault you’re too ticklish for this game--”

Logan’s hand shot out to grab the abandoned die on the ground, and he threw it right at Virgil.

“Virgil’s turn.”

The die hit Virgil’s chest and bounced onto the floor in front of Patton, who swooped it up with a joyous grin.

“Oh, Virgil! Look what we got!” He flipped the die over to show Virgil, who glanced at the number before doing a double take.

“What? No!” he insisted with a shaky smile. “No, we didn’t roll the die, Logan did-- no!”

Patton ignored his protests in favor of throwing him on the floor, struggling to pin him with how hard he was thrashing.

“Time for your little button!” he cooed, wrestling Virgil onto his back and straddling his hips. “Time for your little button!”

Virgil choked out a laugh, batting Patton’s hands away. “St-- stohohop-- stop!” The two scrabbled for a moment, but Patton was too quick, and in a second his pointer finger was shoved directly into Virgil’s belly button, wiggling and scratching and vibrating all at once.

“Nahahahahahaha!”

Virgil couldn’t even form words as Patton tickled his worst spot relentlessly, not even giving him any buildup to prepare for the tickly sensations.

“A ticky ticky ticky ticky!” Patton cooed, giggling along with Virgil’s desperation. “Aw, is someone a little ticklish here? Right here in this little tickle button?”

“I think those are screams, Patton,” Logan managed through his light laughter. “He needs to cackle, remember?”

Patton hummed. “Oh, you’re right, Logan!”

He shifted so he could shove his thumb into Virgil’s belly button instead, corkscrewing it in the small hole as his other four fingers scratched and squeezed at his hypersensitive stomach. Virgil gasped for air, and his wheezing shrieks shifted into undeniable cackles.

“And there it is,” Roman announced. “Two more points for Patton!”

“What are the scores again, Roman?” Patton asked over Virgil’s laughter. Roman paused, tapping his fingers against Logan’s feet as he thought.

“I don’t remember!” he admitted. The two lers stopped, looking at their giggly, blushy lees as they let them catch their breath, Logan was covering as much of his bright red face as he could, while Virgil had gone practically boneless on the floor.

Roman and Patton shared another look, before Patton gave him a deceptively sweet grin.

“Sudden death round?”

Logan and Virgil’s eyes snapped open.

“Do not--”

“Fuck, no--”

“Fantastic idea!” Roman replied cheerfully, grabbing the die and rolling it again. “That’s a 3!”

Both he and Patton abruptly changed positions, Patton shimmying down to reach Virgil’s knees again, while Roman crawled upwards to wrap his arms around Logan’s torso.

“Pat, no-- nohohoho!” Virgil’s protests fell into helpless laughter and squeals as Patton began scurrying his fingers all over his legs before honing in on that soft skin behind his knee.

“Roman, please do not touch me!” Logan threw his head back as Roman immediately targeted his highest ribs, pinning him with his weight as the normally stoic side gasped and let out a series of embarrassingly adorable noises at the torture.

After exactly one minute, they both pulled back in unison.

“My turn!” Patton snatched up the die and dropped it again. “That’s a 2!”

He pulled himself up to latch his hands around Virgil’s sides, squeezing them haphazardly as he leaned down to nibble around his belly button. Virgil weakly pushed aganst his head, but his high pitched giggles were sapping the strength from his body.

Roman hummed in thought. “I think I’m gonna go back down here!” He grabbed Logan’s ankle, and all it took was him fluttering his fingers against the ball of Logan’s foot before he, too, was a giggly mess.

Around and around and around they went-- a 1 led Patton back to Virgil’s neck while Roman attached himself to Logan’s hips, then a 5 had both sides on their stomachs as Roman scratched all over Logan’s back and Patton spidered his hands down the backs of Virgil’s thighs. At one point, they somehow managed to roll three 4s in a row, leading to what must have been truly unbearble tickle torture for the hypersensitive lees.

After many, many more rounds, they finally decided to have mercy and call the game. Virgil was long past fighting against his laughter, and was trying his hardest to not melt directly into the floor; Logan was panting heavily, his hands weakly balled up at his sides as the last of the adrenaline left his system.

“Well,” Roman said after a few minutes of recuperation, “thoughts on the game?”

“I liked it!” Patton chirped immediately, causing Virgil to snort.

“Of course you did,” he replied. “You’re not one of the ones who almost died.”

“Figuratively died,” Logan corrected. “But... I cannot say I didn’t enjoy it.”

Roman smirked, leaning over him and pinching his cheek. “Of course you enjoyed it! You never even safeworded, because you love it so much--”

Logan swatted his hand away, cheeks pinking anew. “Yes, yes, you bragadocious victor. I assure you, when we play again I will be better prepared.”

“Who got the most points, anyway?” Virgil asked, stopping the playful fight between the others. “Like, who was the winner?”

Of course Patton had to take the chance to pull them all into a hug as he exclaimed how they were all winners, but if they were being honest, not a single one of them could disagree.

#tickling #tickle fic #tickling community #my posts #my writing #let's play a game #lee!logan #lee!virgil #ler!patton #ler!roman #sanders sides tickling #the way i didn't realize this was almost 6k words until i finished it lol #also this is not uber proofread so roast the shit outta me #edit: ok fixed a couple typos lol

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pixelatedrose · 3 years

Note

read this and respond (if you’d like) when you aren’t in the car anymore, i don’t want you to get sick :0 !

you don’t apologize for not be able to write a lot! you didn’t have to answer my ask in the first place but it means a lot to me that you did :) also! i wanna say two things! one, i think i’ve said this before but i really like how you explain things. i’ve tried to learn how to play d&d and i think i’ve got a solid understanding of it, but it’s still hard when people say things like “10 AC”. but i don’t have to worry about that when you explain things cause you sorta dumb it down in a way that doesn’t make me feel dumb.. if that makes sense. two, i love how you showed callahan being healed in your drawing cause it just adds so much more weight to the picture. and i can’t even imagine how that fight was, dancing with death the whole time, that must’ve been so stressful. anyway! that’s about all, but you still have a lot of explaining to do (if you want and when you’re ready) mister >:0 i hope you had a lovely day and you enjoy the rest of your night, love you ro :)) !

1st: dw bout me answerin asks in the car lol I have no fuckin self control sksjshs

2nd: thank you sm m8!!! I know you've mentioned in the past that you don't play d&d or know a ton about it so I try and give little explanations where I can and it's great to hear that I do it in a non-patronizing way

3rd: heheheee okay so imma go into some more detail on the Callahan & Shade training session-

Okay, so.

To understand how we got to this point in time, we have to understand where he was

The party entered the Shadowfell- a mirror plane of existence where everything is contorted and dark and just about everything wants to kill you. This is where we were trying to get to when Callahan first joined the party.

Now Callahan didn't have a full grasp on what the Shadowfell was, really, when he went through the portal. The only one who did was Sylas, and by all the gods did he try to warn us.

Callahan was still so very very unprepared...

The very first fight in the Fell- one of the first battles Callahan has EVER been in in his life- he gets one-shotted by this monster and drops below zero hp.

When you drop below zero hp in d&d, you're Ina state of in between life and death, right on the cusp of either one and a breath's wrong move could send you toppling over the edge. You stay in this state of dying until one of three things happen. 1) you get healed. 2) you succeed three death saves and you stabilize. Or 3) you fail three death saves and you die.

Callahan had succeeded two saves, but he had also failed two. One last roll would have determined his entire fate, and I'm not known for having the best of luck when it comes to dice.

Sylas, our lovely amazing wonderful cleric boy, barely made it in time and slapped Callahan with a healing spell right after the monster died and he regained consciousness.

This...messed him up.

Callahan was absolutely shaken to his core at this very close encounter with death and he did not handle it well.

He got furiously angry, ignoring the fact that it was him that brought him to the Fell, and instead shifting the rage to the rest of the party and blaming them for his being there and, by proxy, his almost dying.

He...said some things...that shouldn't have been said. At least not like that...

And the worst part? It didn't get better. He was fitful and angry and upset at everyone for weeks.

Finally, Haru was done with Callahan's baby-bitchfit and when Callahan snapped at Monty (again), Haru got up and dragged Callahan out into the forest a little ways away from the rest of the party.

And what did he do?

Well he punched him.

Well, more than that. He told Callahan to fight back too. Soon fist-fighting turned into hitting each other with sticks, which turned into Haru having to tackle Callahan to the ground, leaving Cal the perfect opportunity to steal the dagger off his belt and ramming the pommel into his ribs.

Cal would like to say he won that fight. Haru would have something else to say.

After laying there on the ground for a moment, Callahan started to laugh. A sound that Haru had not heard in weeks, and one he didn't know he missed.

Haru explained that he wanted to teach Cal to fight so that what happened with that first monster? Where Cal nearly died?? So that that would never have to happen again.

Something about it- maybe it was something about Haru- calmed Callahan down.

And then it really hit him.

Oh fuck.

I've been a jackass for weeks to literally everyone.

It also started to hit him just how weak he really was in a fight if it ever came down to melee.

So they came back to the party together, Callahan happier than ever with little scrapes and lookin very roughed up (I won't say but the rest of the party did not in fact think they were sparring-)

Callahan apologized to Monty the next morning. The things he said specifically to him were...well...let's just say it hit harder for Monty than the others.

Monty wasn't as quick to forgive and forget. Callahan doesn't blame him.

However, that night Callahan and this new party member- Shade- were on a watch together. Now Shade is a much higher level than everyone else in the party, and is far far more powerful. He's a Hexblade Warlock, but he's also a fallen paladin (or cleric I can't remember) as WELL as a fallen Aasimar (kinda like a fallen angel but watered down). But...also probably a Shadow sorcerer?? Listen Shade is an amalgam of magic and power and idk where all of it comes from-

In any case, Shade is big powerful lad.

Now Cal and Shade are on a watch together, and Shade begins talking about Callahan's magic. He picks up a small opal stone from gauntlets he wears and focuses his magic into it. The opal glows with a black light and swirls with shadows of purple and black. He then hands the opal to Callahan and instructs him to focus his magic like he did.

When he does, the opal changes again, but this time, it swirls with bright, ever-changing array of fantastical colors. A rainbow of things that have never quite been seen before. It's extraordinary.

Shade explains that his own magic is that of the Shadowfell, it's dark and thus his magic is sewn from the shade. And then he explains that he's met other mages- ones with powers of the storm, magic of dragons- but he has never seen someone with magic like Callahan's.

Why?

Well, cause Callahan has pure, unfettered, untained, raw magic inside him.

It's an inferno of unbridled magic and it is completely and utterly entirely untamed. It cannot be controlled and it is as wild as the wind and earth itself. And sometimes, that uncontrollablity lashes out and surges forth, and sometimes things that Callahan doesn't exactly want to happen, happen.

And Callahan listens. And his heart sinks. Uncontrollable? Pure?? Absolute chaotic force of magic??? He can't stand the thought of not having a handle on his magic, because if he can't control it, how the hell is he supposed to use it to protect people??

He expresses this to Shade and the "older" man tells him that he can and should use this to his advantage.

At that moment, Callahan's magic goes wild and he surges. The wooden log they are sitting on, under Callahan's hand it starts to faintly smoke. Callahan doesn't notice, but Shade does. He cuts a small piece of rope and asks Cal to hold it for him. The rope errupts into flames and Callahan drops it in vibrant shock and distress.

Shade calms him down and explains that he can use that. He gets Callahan thinking. Asks how he can use this to help in in battle- he can set things aflame with a touch, for God's sake, what can he do to use that?

And Shade looks at Callahan's small scratches and bruises and scuffs on his clothes and turns and says "I know that look...you've been sparring, haven't you?"

Callahan nods his head. He says that Haru said he'd teach him how to fight, that he wants to- needs to- be stronger.

Shade asks if Callahan would like Shade to help him as well, help him learn how to use his magic to fight.

Callahan says yes.

They start small, Shade borrows Haru's sword in his sleep and gives it to Cal to use. Shade goes through the motions of explaining how he uses his magic to help him wear armor and wield weapons- how he manipulates the pull of power inside him into his blade, into his armor, how he makes them seem lighter and easier to use and wear.

And Callahan follows suit. He goes through the motions of swordplay, focusing and directing his magic into it. And slowly, it seems the blade gets lighter and light in his palm.

After a little while of this, Shade says that he would like to try something to really help Cal in the middle of a real battle. And he summons a demon.

Now, as Shade summons this demon, he explains that he has control over it. That the demon cannot do anything that Shade does not want it to do. The demon is not pleased with this.

In fact, with shadowy chains around its neck and wrists and ankles, it seethes and hisses and spits that it will tear and murder and shred Callahan and Shade to scraps. Shade reassures Callahan that he won't let it kill him. But he asks one last time if Callahan wants to do this.

And with a glance at this horrible creature with blood and murder in its eyes, Callahan's grasp tightens around his borrowed blade and he nods yes.

And so the fight begins.

Callahan uses his magic and filters it into the blade in his hands and tries to strike the beast. He hits it a few times, but the monster keeps hitting Callahan back, and he drops down to 1 hp.

As the demon cackles and pulls back for one final attack, Shade pulls down on the shadowy chains and restrains it. It howls in fury at this.

Shade asks Callahan if he wants to stop, that if he really wants, Shade knows a way to help Callahan keep going.

Callahan, bloody, sliced up, fighting for consciousness and blinking red drops from his eyes, hands on his sword in a white-knuckled grip, the blade digging into the ground as the only thing keeping him upright, looks Shade deep and deadly in the eyes, his goggles hung slightly cracked around his neck. His eyes have a burning flicker to them and with no hesitation to his words, he speaks. "I need to be better."

Shade takes a moment and the faintest ghost of a smile flitters onto his face and he says "That was the right answer." And he begins to heal Callahan with Greater Restoration.

Now, I could be wrong either with what the spell does or what spell he actually cast, but what happened with this spell was this: he could restore an incredible amount of hp to Callahan, but he would TAKE half the hp he restored as damage to himself. So if he healed Cal for 10 points, Shade would take 5.

This first time he ended up healing Callahan all the way back up to full.

And back to the fight they went.

This happened four more times, where Cal dropped below 10 hp and Shade had to stop to heal him for a moment.

Finally, Shade asked Callahan one last thing.

"I can do one more thing to help you learn the movement of battle, but it would mean releasing him. You don't have to do it, but-"

"You're wrong. I do have to- what would that make me if I backed down at the first sight of risk?"

"...you've made a good choice."

With that, Shade released the Demon, who was battered and torn and nearly as destroyed as Callahan himself, if not far far more. And he let out a ravenous cackle, full of craze and bloodlust and victory. And he looked Callahan directly in the eyes and told him "This is where you die!!!"

Four more rounds.

Callahan had messed up his magic once before in the fight and his magic had surged, giving him the ability to teleport short distances for the next minute.

And his magic messed up once again, poisoning a random creature near him. Luckily, it wasn't Shade, but the Demon was immune to poison anyway.

But as Callahan took hits, he dropped below 10 hp again, but there was no more looking to Shade for help anymore.

He took one last swing, a move of the blade that felt more dance-like than any sort of movement to kill, and he cut the demon clean a sunder- a trail of the blade that ran from one shoulder across to the bottom of its boney hip- and the demon let out a croaking, creaking, collapsing gasp of air that could have been mistaken for a strangled last cackle of defiance.

And then it fell over, a position of defeat that Callahan may have been had he not made the surer move.

And Callahan stood above it all.

Alive.

Alive and by his hands alone was his enemy gone.

Alive and by a blade he used with magic in his veins was he that way.

Alive and the victor over a demon.

Shade healed Callahan one last time, nearly collapsing himself from the loss of life energy. He managed to gain some of it back by summoning small imps that he then proceeded to suck the life out of, but it still took a bit of a toll on both of them.

They went back to the party where everyone lay sleeping, none knowing the exchange that had happened that night.

The spoke for a while longer, Shade telling Callahan of his past while casting the mending spell on his destroyed and torn clothes.

Their shift ended and they woke up the next pair for watch and went to bed.

And now did Callahan forget to tell anyone else about what had happened?

Yes absolutely.

Did Haru end up finding out because 1) Callahan had a fresh magical scar on his cheek and 2) Callahan forgot to give Haru back his sword?

Yes absolutely.

Was Haru pissed off that Callahan basically almost died multiple times and go into full protective boyfriend mode after he found out?

Yes absolutely.

Anyway long story time but I hope you liked it ;D

#spooky-scary-bumblebees #Bee!!!#the Weave of Silence #Callahan McBlithe #Shade Walker #ask me things #LISTEN I REALIZE I HAVEN'T BEEN THE BEST AT UPDATING Y'ALL ON THE ONGOINGS OF THE WOS CAMPAIGN #BUT ITS REALLY FUCKING COOL I PROMISE #i mean this is literally something that happened IN THE GAME so yeah I'd say its pretty killer #anyway sorry for the long read but i hope it was worth it !!!

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nevtelenwriting · 4 years

Text

It’s a Date: Hotch/Foyet

Lots going on personally, I’ve not been in the best headspace, so I wanted to finish up this writing exercise to get my creativity going again with. There’s maybe a follow-up in the works 👀

Hotch/Foyet, threatening flirting and a deal Hotch can’t say no to.

Rating: T (M? IDK only thing mature is talking of murder and horny language)

It didn’t surprise him when, a week after his escape from prison, Hotch received a phone call. It was to his government cell, which made sense; he gave the number to George in case he needed to talk.

Looked like he needed to talk.

“Agent Hotchner.” Hotch answered automatically, used to unfamiliar numbers all the time.

The familiar sigh had the hairs rising on the back of his neck, though this time, Foyet didn’t bother affecting a voice. It still made his skin prickle, knowing the face to the name. "I want to make a deal."

It was a mimicry of that call in Boston, and Hotch had to grit his teeth to reply. "We've been over this, monsters like you don't get deals."

"You may want to listen to this one."

To match their pattern, Hotch hung up.

The next day, a letter with a Reaper's eye appeared in his mailbox, with pictures of three people Hotch didn’t know captured intimately close to their doorstep, their car, their bus stop. None looked any wiser to the man stalking them. Naturally he took the pictures to Garcia, and to local police, but they all came up dry.

Hotch waited for the phone call.

"What's the deal."

Foyet paused for a moment, probably surprised Hotch didn’t offer a greeting. He answered with, "Why the change in heart?"

"Don't bullshit, what's the deal."

"What if I told you it was Shaughnessy's?"

"I'd call you an idiot for trying it again.” Hotch didn’t bother mincing words. “I already alerted authorities to your targets."

Foyet’s laugh crackled the phone line. "Tell me if you find them. Look, there's no need to be so dramatic. I don't intend to do them any harm."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you."

"Then let's get back to that deal."

Hotch waited rather than answer. Foyet sighed.

"Man of so few words. The deal is, I don't touch a single hair on some inconsequential person's head. Not so long as you do something for me."

"I’m not going to stop hunting you.” Hotch said immediately, ready to end the call again if Foyet continued with this pointless game.

"That's not on the table anyway.” Foyet replied with apparent disinterest. “Actually I'm enjoying our game of cat and mouse. I'm sure you're asking now, who's the cat and who's the mouse?"

Hotch didn’t indulge, done with his strange game as he snapped, "What the hell do you want?"

"Temper temper agent. I just want some quality time with you."

"Quality time."

"What can I say, a man gets lonely, and you look spectacular in those dress pants, do you do squats?"

It took every ounce of Hotch’s will not to hang up again. He didn’t reply either.

"God that stick is wedged up far, how do you sit?"

Apparently Foyet had no intentions of actually offering a deal. This was an easy, effortless tactic to assert dominance and control, Hotch should have known better.

Hotch sighed through his nose, "If you're just here to yank my chain, then this phone call is over."

"What makes you think I'm yanking your chain?"

"Nothing in your profile says that you're gay."

"That's awfully narrow-minded of you, what's Jack gonna think if one day he has to come to you and tell you his girlfriend's actually a boy-"

"You're not gay Foyet."

"I'm genuinely hurt."

Hotch said nothing.

"Alright, you're right, I'm not. But you really think I'm only straight?"

Hotch chewed his tongue, hating that he knew that while Foyet was a sexual sadist, and usually showed preferences to women, it wasn’t always. "No."

"See? Was that so hard? You're a handsome man, Aaron, of course I think you're hot, you should work on that self-esteem."

Foyet really needed to stop fucking around, he didn’t have the time. Hotch was losing what little patience he’d mustered as he said, "What the hell are you getting at with this?"

"Have you traced my call yet?" Foyet asked conversationally, still in no mood to oblige.

Hotch was sure Foyet called him purposefully during work hours, not that it mattered. His cellphone had been tapped since the first call. Unfortunately that didn’t matter either; they had been on the call for over ten minutes but Garcia, prattling into his earpiece, kept expressing her frustrations over pinging cellphone lines in Brazil, Bolivia, several other countries south but none near DC. Foyet was a computer technologist, it isn't a surprise. The fact Garcia was listening to this while she worked—the groans and muttered statements of “gross” filling his earpiece beyond her non-cursing—was knowledge Hotch decided to willfully ignore.

"Get to a damn point."

Foyet sighed again, and Hotch could almost see the head shake. "We need to work on your foreplay."

Hotch was convinced now. He had a stroke, that or contracted malaria; either way he had started hallucinating the world's worst nightmare in his death throes.

"You won't kill anyone... If I let you. Stare at my ass?"

"Oh, Hotchner. More than stare."

Hotch was glad he was on the phone, because even that made his eyes widen. "You're not serious."

"I'm dead serious."

"You want me to prostitute myself to you."

"That's loaded sentence. Especially since I'm not paying you. Think of it as more, vigorous arch enemy fucking that makes me forget how much I wanna hurt you."

"The answer is no."

"Then someone dies. Maybe it's one of those three, maybe someone else. Shit, maybe your wife. I can find her, you know that."

Rather than feel horror at that, or try to convince Foyet not to and waste his breath, Hotch muttered, "Maybe you like men, but I don't."

Foyet scoffed into the phone. "Don't lie to me. I remember how you were. You flirted with me back then."

Hotch felt sick. He felt sicker still knowing that Foyet was right. In another world, another place, when Foyet had just been George, he wouldn't have turned him down.

Foyet’s voice dropped low then. "I know you've thought about it, Aaron. How I might taste. What I'd look like on my knees. I know I have. You sound so good, I bet you're divine when you moan. Remember when I came home from the hospital? God, if you weren't so good and faithful to your wife, we would have done wicked things that night.”

Hotch did remember. Foyet—George—had been unsteady on his feet, fell into Hotch and he had stared at him for too long. The heat emanating from his body where they pressed, lithe muscle under his palms coupled with the cool brush of George's breath on his cheek, the hand on Hotch's jaw had been nearly enough to make him break his vows.

"Come on, what's the harm? You get to keep hunting me, you're guaranteed that as long as we keep this up, I won't go after anyone. No strings attached, just a good clean fuck."

Hotch chewed his cheek, curbing down the heat coiling in his cut at the sound of his low voice purring that into his ear. He couldn’t bring himself to answer, knowing the words would come out strangled.

"I'll give you a day to think about it. And so that you can answer with a few less prying ears."

Foyet hangs up. Hotch's head is on the desk by the time Garcia clears her throat and meekly says she wasn't able to trace the call.

It took a week before Foyet called back. He did so on his personal cell this time, which Hotch had asked not to be traced. When the familiar number popped up, Hotch answered with, "I suppose it's too much to ask that this is a one-time deal."

"…Hello to you too."

Hotch sighed, and Foyet hummed.

"Alright, to business. Think of this as more of a resetting of a countdown clock. The closer I get to zero the closer I get to that itch that just can't be scratched, and this strange desire to fuck you will be overridden by the need to well, kill. But if you keep me satisfied, you will reset that clock. Won't reach zero as long as we keep our deal."

It made sense. It was mostly clean, though Hotch had no reason to believe Foyet would keep his end of the deal beyond knowing Foyet genuinely enjoying a man’s suffering had been enough in the past. This wasn’t like Shaughnessy though, god knows this wasn’t like Shaughnessy. Was his unwillingness and distaste for this truly enough? Knowing he had gotten Hotch to agree? There were other options, ones less out of left field and ones more likely to get a yes from him. Why this, why…

Hotch didn’t know why he asked it, other than trying to find something grounding in what felt only like a cruel dream not yet tumbling towards nightmare.

"Why me?"

Foyet was quiet for a long time, and then, "Why not you?"

Hotch sighed, "No."

"No?" Foyet reiterated, an edge to it that sounded like threat. Hotch didn’t care.

"You heard me. No, I get one real answer from you, then—"

Hotch caught himself too late. Hotch could hear the smile. "Then what?"

There was so many other things Hotch might have said yes to. There were so many reasons why Hotch should say no. There was no way in hell Hotch could tell him yes.

His voice almost faltered on his reply. Hotch barely heard himself when he said it. "Then I'll take the deal."

Foyet chuckled, low against his ear, close enough to shudder through his chest and prickle his skin. "Of all the things to ask me. Are you sure you want it to be 'why you'?"

Hotch could ask a thousand questions. Why he chose to kill, why he played these games. The thing was, Hotch already knew. He knew Foyet lashed out because hurting others was a release after he had been so violently abused. Hotch knew he got off on power and control because he had his own stripped away. Hotch knew his sadism grew when he was a child left to his own devices, cruelty made into a language of love that twisted and warped him into this man they hunted today. Hotch knew all of that. He didn't understand why this.

There were so many games he could play with Hotch, plenty that would invoke the same level of suffering. Foyet could have ambushed and tortured him, even raped him if his end goal was purely carnal. He didn't. If Foyet intended on killing him after their sex—he doubted it, it shortened his suffering—he'd end the long game by getting arrested. If the unwillingness was the goal, then why taunt Hotch with the memory he had been attracted to him? There was a mind game to this Hotch couldn't piece together, some level of interest and infatuation with Hotch himself he didn't understand.

“Yes. Why me. Why bother with this?”

Foyet sighed audibly, almost a groan. "Really, agent? Because you get me hard. You make me feel like a little schoolboy that can't keep himself from pulling your pigtails. Because it’s a little difficult getting your dick wet on the run. So please oh please won't you go to the dance with me?"

As much as Foyet attempted to make the reply as repulsive as possible, Hotch's brows shot up to his hairline. Infatuation he anticipated, but the deflection spoke more of...of an obsession with Hotch himself. Hotch wondered in that moment, just how much control Foyet had over this desire himself. Hotch cleared his throat.

"If you bring a knife into the bedroom I will shoot you."

"Kinky. It's a date."

“So when should I expect you?” Hotch asked, and then added dryly, “Should I bring a corsage?”

Foyet barked out his laugh, “I’ll call you, how’s that? And just so we’re clear. You know what happens if you try to use this to catch me.”

With that Foyet hung up, with no time, place, or expectation of when this would begin.

Fuck. Fuck. What had Hotch gotten himself into?

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #george foyet #fedreaper #hotchfoyet #My writing #my fic #idek man #come stab me daddy

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lillupon · 3 years

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So, I've got a very long rant/opinion here and Idk really know how to say this without coming off kinda bad but I'm gonna say it anyways. I agree with the fact that the seventeen tag has been kinda dry lately on most fanfic places, but it's really only in the smut area. It's the sane way with other groups too I feel like. All of the nice little innocent tags are boomin to this day and thats completely fine. I think the smut tag is dry tho bc lately I feel like a few social issues (like sexualizing people and disrespecting them and their identity) have crossed over into kpop and have been ?blown out of proportion? Lately there's been a rampage of people who like to say that writing smut about someone is disgusting and is dehumanizing because people want to assume that it would make the idols uncomfortable which could equate to some morality issues on how you are reducing someone only to their body without their consent and a bunch of stuff like that. It kind of pisses me off bc this is fiction. About grown adults. Clamping down on horny people who simp over hot asian men isn't going to solve the issues we face in real life. I think a shit ton is wrong with the world we currently live in, and deciding to come after something that isn't even real bothers me. Like what does that actually accomplish. But yeah, I think thats a reason why smut has been dying down. I mean, on youtube almost every video about unpopular opinions, or things they dont like about kpop will include something about shipping idols in fanfics. And then everyone in the comment section will talk about how its all fine and dandy in moderation, but once people start writing smut it's crossing the idols personal boundaries. It's something I've been seeing a lot more often and I think people who are interested in writing smut are being turned away from it bc we've gotten to a point where people are being called disgusting for having fantasies.

Hi Anon, thank you for sending in this Ask.

I want to preface this by saying: when I write or talk about Mingyu and Wonwoo fucking on my blog, it is a fantasy. I am not speculating about what the real Mingyu and Wonwoo might be like in bed. I am imagining the versions of Mingyu and Wonwoo that I have created in my head, that exist only in my stories. None of it is real. I understand that this can be a blurry boundary for some people. But for me, the separation between fantasy and reality is well-defined. Now, on to your Ask!

You’ve hit the nail on the head with this one. You’ve also touched on many of the issues I have been struggling with myself as of late. It’s difficult to argue about morals since everyone has a different set of values, as well as different comfort levels. Some people think real person fiction (RPF) is a gross invasion of privacy. Others are fine with it. And others don’t care one way or another. There is no single answer; I can only offer my answer. Which means, of course, people are welcome to disagree with it, or parts of it.

In this essay (LOL But forreal: this is an essay), I will be sharing my experience in the k-pop fanfic community from 2014 to present, the etiquette I personally abide by as a reader and writer of RPF, as well as my stance on RPF in general.

I started reading and posting fanfics back in 2014/2015 on a website called AsianFanfics (AFF). Obviously, no one on that site had a problem with RPF, since AFF is a platform made specifically for sharing stories about Asian celebrities. For many years, I read and enjoyed RPF with zero guilt. I scribbled away by myself in my own corner of fandom and curated my own content. I didn’t interact much with other fans, readers, or writers. I didn’t have a Twitter, and I only used tumblr to reblog memes. As a result, I’ve been able to avoid a lot of anti-shipping discourse, as well as purity and cancel culture. I had no idea there were so many negative opinions about RPF. It wasn’t until I became active on the subreddit r/Fanfiction last year that I learned about all the discourse surrounding RPF.

This newfound ‘awareness’ does make me feel guilty at times—but only because after mulling this over, I still don’t think this is something to feel guilty about.

Here’s what I remember, first and foremost, when I create and consume RPF: fanfics and my favourite ships are fictional, and fiction is fantasy. This is basic etiquette when it comes to RPF, and most people in the k-pop fandom understand this. Delusional fans exist, of course, but they are not representative of the entire k-pop community.

Another point of etiquette is to keep fanfics within fandom spaces. I would never push my fics into celebrities’ faces, or go around claiming that my fanfics are accurate representations of a k-idol’s life or personality, in any way, shape, or form. I would also discourage directing ship-related questions to official accounts, or bringing them up during fansigns or other face-to-face interactions; I believe that in these instances, shipping does have the potential to strain real-life relationships.

So with basic etiquette out of the way, let me share my approach to RPF in general.

As much as we like to think we know our favourite celebrities, we really don’t. All we see is their public persona. And this public persona is intentionally controlled, managed, and curated by a team of people: directors, tabloids, editors, makeup artists, publicists, etc. How “real” are these celebrities? We are so distanced from them that they may as well be fictional.

I draw from the public persona that idols project, and I work them into my own writing. But at the end of the day, these personalities are my own interpretation. My interpretation is probably nothing like an idol’s actual personality. I just use the “public persona/character” that idols portray as inspiration for my own stories, which are set in wildly different universes.

More than anything, I think of k-pop idols as “actors” in my fic. You know how when you write an original novel, you scroll through Google images, looking for the perfect person to portray your original character? RPF is literally that, except you might build upon pre-existing dynamics and personalities.

When it comes to explicit fanfiction, two main concerns are prevalent: one of consent, and one of sexualisation.

If we argue against explicit RPF due to lack of consent, we should be willing to apply the same lens to all explicit works. How do we know that the creator of a movie, book, series, etc., is okay with us using their characters in our stories, explicit or not? We don’t. Perhaps some creators encourage fanfiction, but don’t want their lovingly crafted characters engaging in sexual acts or experiencing trauma. We just don’t know. I feel this line is even more blurred when we talk about characters from movies or TV series.

Let’s take Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, as portrayed by Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan, from the Captain America movies as an example. I am willing to bet that when people consume and create explicit fanfiction about Steve and Bucky, they are imagining Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan in their heads. I doubt many people are imagining the 2D cartoon versions of Steve and Bucky, even though they’re technically the exact same characters. Why? Well, it could be because movies are more readily and easily consumed than comics, and so people are unfamiliar with comic book Steve and Bucky. But it might also be because fans find Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan attractive. Is this really any different from RPF, where fic authors make up everything about a celebrity’s life?

When readers and writers of fanfic talk about how hot Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes is, those comments are about Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan’s bodies. When reading explicit stories, fans are going to picture Chris and Sebastian’s bodies in their head, doing sexual things. Can we say, “Well, it’s not really you, Chris/Sebastian”, when in a way, it is?

The reality is, people are going to thirst over celebrities, regardless of whether or not explicit fanfiction exists. They’re going to post thirst tweets on Twitter. They’re going to talk to friends and strangers online about how hot [insert celebrity name here] is. They’re going to fantasize about dating and having sex with their favourite celebrity. Or, as it is in my case, they’re going to make up stories in their heads about their favourite idols dating and banging each other. People are going to do all of this without ‘getting consent’ from the celebrity. Cracking down upon and shaming writers of RPF isn’t going to change any of that.

To be honest, I’m not sure why people think it is disgusting to imagine sexual scenarios about real people. It is okay and normal to have these kinds of fantasies. I suppose the alternative is to fantasise about having sex with cartoon characters instead? It’s a very binary way of thinking to say that if you imagine/write real people in explicit scenarios, you are immediately sexualising, dehumanising, or objectifying them. There is more to dehumanisation than writing smut about our favourite celebrities. For one thing, you can love someone and appreciate all parts of them, and still want to fuck their brains out. And generally, fanfics come from a place of love—love that is not only sexual in nature.

Is it the sharing aspect inherent to fanfiction? The possibility that a celebrity might stumble upon explicit works about them? The chances are very low, I think, of the k-pop idols I enjoy writing about coming across my English fics. But I also believe in curating your own content, and that applies to celebrities too. Perhaps a celebrity should not go searching for fanfics about themselves. And of course, people should not show celebrities their fanfics, unless invited.

Another argument I hear against (explicit) RPF is, “How would you feel if someone wrote fanfiction about you?” First off, I don’t like this argument because there’s a difference between someone who decides to be a public figure versus someone who decides to remain a regular private citizen. Celebrities should and do know what they’re getting into when they choose their occupation. (This is not to say, “They are celebrities; sexualise them all you want because that’s what they signed up for.” Here, I am only acknowledging that people might have sexual fantasies about celebrities they are attracted to. Presumably, celebrities are cognizant of this.)

If someone (whose existence I am not even aware of, mind you) decides they want to write explicit fanfiction of me in some tiny corner of the Internet, I wouldn’t care so long as: (1) they don’t shove it into my face, and (2) they don’t harass me and ask invasive questions about my personal life and relationships. It’s not hurting me or negatively affecting my life, so it wouldn’t even register as a blip on my radar. When fanfiction remains within its appropriate spaces, it is largely harmless.

Now, if a k-pop idol were to ask their fans to stop writing fanfiction about them, would I? Yes, I would. However, I can’t imagine that happening. Judging by the number of ‘sexy’ concepts, fanservice moments, and variety shows such as ‘We Got Married’, I am certain that k-pop idols realise they are the stars of many fantasies—some of which are explicit in nature. Considering the prevalence of shipping in the k-pop industry, I would argue that shipping is subtly encouraged.

It’s sad that so many talented writers are shamed out of fandom, or feel that k-pop cannot be the medium through which they tell their stories, or explore their sexuality, or cope with trauma, or simply have fun. Professional works and Hollywood love their RPF—readers and writers of fanfics should be able to, as well.

As you said Anon, “clamping down on horny people who simp over hot asian men isn't going to solve the issues we face in real life” (this is a lovely sentence, by the way). The kind of person who dehumanises another and reduces them to a sexual object will do so some other way, if not via fanfiction. I don’t think the issue of fetishisation can be fixed simply by telling people not to write explicit RPF. In my experience, people who read and write RPF are more respectful and thoughtful about these things than the general public. We’ve all seen the general public say highly sexual things about celebrities in the media and to their faces, or tag celebrities in their thirst tweets. Are these things less invasive than fanfiction? Personally, I don’t think so. And in my opinion, there are more pressing and damaging issues in stan culture than fanfic.

In conclusion, I don’t think there is anything wrong with creating and consuming RPF, both explicit and non-explicit so long as we:

Remember we are writing fiction

Keep RPF within its appropriate space, and

Do not harass celebrities about their personal lives and relationships

RPF is not for everyone. There may be people who enjoy RPF, but draw the line at explicit stories. This is fine. Everyone has their own personal preferences. What is not fine, however, is attacking people for creating things you don’t like. I’m not sure what kind of moral crusade people are on and what they hope to achieve by shaming writers of RPF, explicit or otherwise. Ultimately, fic authors are writing a fantasy. It’s not real; no one is being hurt. I think it’s important for people to curate their own content, and AO3 makes it very easy to filter out explicit works and unwanted tags.

Maybe this is me trying to justify my own participation in explicit RPF—I don’t know. What I do know is that I love k-pop, and fandom is an important part of my media and entertainment experience. I adore the k-pop idols I write about, and I just want to imagine them being happy and getting lots of love and orgasms. Let a bitch be horny, goddamn…

Some bonus fun facts!

At the time I am writing this, on AO3:

26.2% of Stray Kids fanfics are rated M or E

26.3% of Seventeen fanfics are rated M or E

29.0% of Merlin fanfics are rated M or E

34.9% of Captain America (Movies) fanfics are rated M or E

40.1% of BTS fanfics are rated M or E ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Coincidentally, I saw this post on Reddit this morning: Can we have a RPF positivity post?

#asks #my writing #fic & fandom #I keep coming back to fiddle and add things to this answer #but I think I've said all I wanted to now...

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