#how am I supposed to react to this /silly
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doctorsiren · 1 year ago
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Au where everything is the same except klavier is an actual piano
Whether he can talk or not is up to your enterpretation
And yes this means every piano seen in AA is him
Is this why Phoenix is bad at the piano
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yzafre · 2 years ago
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Roxas: Had the Halloween town kids throw bombs in his face for multiple missions in a row before finally breaking down and smacking them around a bit.
Ventus: The dwarves were rude and refused to talk to him, immediately resorted to chasing them down and whacking them.
Characterization I see frequently: Ah, yes, Roxas is the one always willing to throw hands and Ventus is a smol sunshine boy.
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#kh#kingdom hearts#these are really silly examples but the point stands!#in fact I think it expands when you look at their full screen-time#I am once again begging people to watch a full let's play of Days#don't get me wrong Ventus IS brightness and sunshine#but he also has the energy of a chihuahua ready to fight the world and I will stand by that#where as Roxas will tend to just try to avoid it until he Very Much Can't#now I think Roxas does BITTERNESS better than Ventus or Sora#but bitterness is not temper#in fact bitterness is usually negative emotions left on the backburner until the resentment caves in on itself#I suppose this is up to interpretation but from my reading...#a lot of times Ventus seems to burn out his anger then let it go#whereas Roxas doesn't do anything with the emotions until he/the situation self-destructs catastrophically so it ends up being nastier#but on the day-to-day?#yeah no Ventus is going to be the one reacting first#you can also exchange Sora for Ventus for some of these arguments#though I think he lands somewhere between Ventus and Roxas for short-temperedness#all this is more complicated than this reductive commentary of course#you have to take in how and in what orders the characters were introduced and marketed#the difficulty of getting the handheld games historically and the biases that set in before they were easily accessed#not to mention stock archetypes for fandom joke set-ups that then perpetuate the characterization...#like there's a LOT to how this came to be#but it Gets To Me sometimes#yza talks about a thing
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ladylaser07 · 1 year ago
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cannotflyarc · 1 year ago
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"while [sweeney is] singing about the beauty of [johanna's] yellow hair, he is almost subconsciously slitting her throat"
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billygoat26 · 1 year ago
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Hahahaaaaa I missed people on the simp list- (me realizing this as I fangirl over moon knight peeps)
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rafecameronssl4t · 1 year ago
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Pranking him || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)
You had seen a prank making the rounds on TikTok and couldn’t resist the temptation to see how Rafe would react. He was lying on the bed with your 8-month-old daughter, Mabel, comfortably perched on his stomach, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as he entertained her with silly faces and soft coos.
“Baby, do you think you could leave the room while I change?” you asked, trying to keep your tone casual. Rafe looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.“Change what?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
“Into my dress,” you said, holding up the dress for him to see while trying to maintain a straight face. Rafe blinked, then lifted his head for a better look at you. “What? Am I— is it like a surprise that I’m not allowed to see it until you’re wearing it?” His confusion was evident, and you had to bite back a smile.
“No, I just don’t feel comfortable to change in front of you right now,” you shrugged nonchalantly. Rafe’s lips parted in disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, moving up to lean on his forearms, Mabel now curiously watching the exchange between her parents.
“You’re joking, right?” he chuckled, studying your expression. When you managed to keep a straight face, his smile faded. “Shit. You’re not?” “Can you just leave the room for like five minutes?” you questioned him again, trying to keep the act up a little longer. Rafe pulled a face, still utterly confused.
“Baby, I literally watched you give birth. I literally put Mabel in you and now you’re shy to change in front of me?” he said, looking at Mabel for some form of backup but she just stares at her dad with curious eyes as you struggled to hold back your laughter. “I’m just kidding,” you finally confessed, breaking into a laugh and grabbing Rafe’s face to kiss him. He smiled against your lips.
“That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” he said with a grin as you pulled back, placing a gentle kiss on Mabel’s cheek, who giggled in response.
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lovelivision · 2 months ago
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‎FLUFFY AND CUFFED 𝜗𝜚 ʁ₊
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𐔌.pairing — gojo satoru / reader
‎ ‎ ‎── word count: 4.4k
❄ summary... gojo shows up late for valentine's day, good thing you have something you can use to teach him a lesson on making you wait...
warnings.ᐟ ── 18+ only, smut, pwp, swearing, dirty talk, use of restraints, handjob, fingering, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), mating press, slight overstimulation, creampie, slight dacryphilia, afab!reader, no pronouns used !!
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A set of distinct and easily recognisable rhythmic knocks on your door alert you to Gojo’s late arrival, he was supposed to be here nearly an hour ago. When you open the door it’s clear that you’re displeased with him and his lateness, your brow raised and gaze waiting for him to explain.
Though you can’t even see your boyfriend enough to admonish him appropriately, a large bouquet of your favourite flowers blocking him from your view. Pulling them away he looks at you with big, sad eyes, and you hate how it’s actually working on you. It’s hard to stay angry when he’s that cute, he doesn’t need to know that though.
“Happy Valentine’s?” He smiles sheepishly.
Stepping to the side, you open the door more, “Get in here.”
He walks into your apartment and gives you the flowers, “I’m sorry
 I know I’m late.”
“And why are you late?”
“Okay well, I was going to be here on time but then I couldn’t find your favourite flowers so I was checking all the stores I could and then I got lost a little bit but then I found them and then a lot more time had gone by without me realising
” he stops and awkwardly scratches the back of his head, smiling, “bad time management on my behalf, I am really sorry though.”
Maybe you should be a little angrier at him, but you can’t find it within yourself to mind all that much. Not when he went to so much effort just to get you your favourite flowers. “We missed our reservation you know?”
His head drops like a scolded puppy, “I know.”
Walking past him, you move to place the flowers on the countertop. He’s following behind you devotedly.
“Are you mad?” He asks, trying to gauge how much trouble he’s in right now.
You think on it for a moment, this could actually be used for your benefit, “A little
” you spin to face him, “which means you’ll need to make it up to me.”
Nodding quickly, “Anything.”
The smile threatening to break on your face can’t be hidden, “I’m so glad you said that!”
He leans forwards, closer to you, “You planning to do something dirty to me?”
“Absolutely.”
Grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down, standing on your toes so you can press your lips to his. Gojo reacts immediately, hands on your body and gripping at your hips, tugging you in even closer. His kisses urgent, quickly stealing the lead from you when he licks into your mouth, tongue brushing up against yours.
You’re getting lost in the kiss, head pleasantly fuzzy with his lips on yours. Arms rounding his neck and pulling up into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Frenzied kisses growing sloppy, parting just so he can suck on your lower lip and make you whine before giving you more full kisses.
It’s hard to stay focused on your objective when he kisses you like this, all thoughts melting as the only thing you can think about quickly becomes him. Him and his lips and his tongue and the hands he’s got on your hips that are now sliding up under your shirt.
Bare skin on yours warm and grounding enough for you to pull back from him, lips parting with a string of saliva connecting them. Heavy breaths leaving you as you work to control yourself, “This is not what I meant.”
“I know,” he hums, “I just wanted to do something dirty to you.”
It’s annoying how weak he has you for him, “You’re lucky I like you.”
He corrects, “I think you’re in love with me actually,” nuzzling his face into your cheek, “now what exactly is it that you want to do to me?”
“I’m so glad you asked!” You smile and take his hand in yours, walking him back to your room.
“Aww, we don’t get to fuck in the kitchen?”
“What? Of course not,” reaching under the bed, you pull out the box you keep hidden and present a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs from it, “How would I restrain you to the bed if we’re in the kitchen?”
Gojo’s brows raise in shock for a moment before his face turns suggestive, “Well aren’t you just full of surprises?”
“You got no idea, pretty boy,” pointing at the bed for him to sit on, “now get comfy.”
“Whatever you say, sweetie,” he coos back at you indulgently as he situates himself on the mattress.
“Shuffle down,” you instruct, to which he does, back flat to the bed.
Taking his hand, you cuff a single wrist and then thread the chain around your headboard before cuffing the other. Successfully restraining him with his arms up, you give the cuffs a last tug to ensure their sturdiness. They’re not exactly police grade but you’re sure they’ll hold up
 probably.
Gojo leans his head up, “If you’re gonna keep me like this, the least you can do is take your shirt off for my viewing pleasure.”
“I’ll consider it,” readjusting so you’re sitting on his lap, hands dragging down his front.
“Don’t be stingy.”
“Are you forgetting that this is because you failed to show up on time for our date and not meant to be for your benefit?”
He smiles at you, “If it’s not for my benefit then why am I so looking forward to it?”
Tilting your head at him, “Because you’re a pervert?”
“You might’ve gotten me there.”
Humming at him as you start opening his shirt, delicate fingers slowly slipping each individual button undone. Letting your nails slowly drag down his freshly exposed skin. Purposefully trailing over his nipples and not bothering to hide your smile at the soft way his hips jut up. Hands stopping at the waistband of his pants before trailing them back up and leaning over him, face hovering over his like you might kiss him only not to.
He huffs at you, “Tease.”
“I thought you liked teasing,” you caress the side of his face and brush your lips over the highest point of his cheekbone.
“I like teasing you,” he pouts, turning his head to the side hoping to catch your lips with his only to be left disappointed when you pull back and tap the tip of his nose with a single finger.
“You’re cute.”
“If I’m so cute then pull my cock out and sit real pretty on it,” he beams at you, “please.”
Shuffling back, you start to unbutton his pants. Chirping back, “Maybe.”
Tugging his pants off him completely, leaving him only in his boxers and trailing your way back up his inner legs with your soft touch. Watching him squirm under you and getting a kick at how sensitive he seems to be already.
Gojo watches with bated breath, anticipation making him all too eager for you to touch him directly. Arms itching to reach forward, hands aching to touch and tease you only to be stopped by the cuffs. As much as he enjoys this little game he thinks he may have put himself in a bad position, he just loves touching you so much.
“Satoru,” you call to him, a little surprised when you pull his cock free, “you’re already this hard?”
His words are barely bitten back, eyes locked on the way your smaller hand grips him, “What can I say? I like making out with you.”
“Are you sure you don’t just like being handcuffed?”
“I think we both know I’d much rather be touching you,” breath catching in his throat as your thumb swipes over the tip of his dick.
Smiling evilly at him, eyes crinkling, “Maybe you should be on time then.”
“I said I was sorry,” he whines softly.
“You also said you’d do anything to make it up to me,” looking through your lashes at him, “were you lying?”
“Of course not.”
“Then–”
“–But I am gonna get to
” Words softly trailing off as he watches you let the saliva collected in your mouth dribble down to his cock. Shivers running down his spine as it makes his dick that much slicker, your hand using it as lubricant to gently start jerking him off. How could this possibly be a punishment when this sight is so arousing, your touch so good he feels lightheaded.
“Hmm?” you hum at him, taunting lightly, “you’re gonna get to what?”
There’s no reply from Gojo, his teeth biting into his lower lip as the soft flush of pink on his skin darkens a few hues more. It’s cute how he’s holding back the sounds he wants to let out, brows pinched in pleasure as he carefully keeps his eyes locked on your hand stroking him.
Deciding it’s your turn to be a relentless tease tonight, you coo at him, “C’mon ‘Toru, what were you gonna say? I wanna know.”
His big eyes look up at you, confusion on his face as he struggles to reply, “Wh– what?”
You loosen your touch, keeping it featherlight just to make it that much more frustrating for him, “You said you were gonna get to do something to me,” thumb dancing just under the head of his cock, “I’m wondering what that was.”
Gojo’s hips try to thrust upwards for more friction but your grip is too light to give him what he’s seeking. He’s barely even registered that you’ve spoken, not until you’re pulling your hand back. His eyes growing wide and frantic, “Fuck– no, don’t stop touching me, please.”
“Gotta answer me,” fingers lightly stroking his length.
It takes him a moment to remember what you had even asked of him, expression sweet and confused before a cocky smirk find its way onto his face, “I was trying to say– hng– that I am gonna get to touch you tonight.”
“I’m not sure why you’re suddenly so sure of yourself, Satoru,” hand wrapping around him properly again, “after all, you’re the one in the palm of my hand right now.”
Beginning to fuck him with your hand with the intent to make him cum, thumb brushing up against his sensitive tip. You’re relishing in all the sounds and faces he’s struggling to hide, the composure he’d mustered up completely slipping from him. All that’s left is this beautiful man falling apart under you, his hips rutting up recklessly, so hopelessly turned on and overwhelmed after all the light touches you had given him.
His breaths are heavy and he can’t control his moans, damn near whimpering, “I’m close– hah– oh fuck!– so close just–”
At the mention of his impending orgasm, you pull your hand away, enjoying the way his cock twitches pathetically at the loss of your touch. His eyes wet and lost when he looks up at you, hands struggling against the cuffs.
Blinking up at you, whines barely hidden in his tone, “No, I was so– sweetie, I was so close.”
“‘Toru
” you start, leaning in a little closer. “Why did you think I’d let you cum that easily?”
“Maybe because you love me?” He tries.
“I love you so much,” you grin at him, “but I hate being left waiting so I need to ensure you remember not to do it again.”
He groans in disappointment at your answer, “Do I need to say sorry again?”
“I don’t know, say it and we’ll see it.”
“I’m really sorry for showing up late, sweetheart.” Eyes pleading with you, “I promise it won’t happen again.”
You pretend to think on your answer for a moment before standing from the bed, a small noise of concern leaving him, the cuffs clattering against the bed frame as he tries to follow you.
You reassure him, “Be calm, Satoru. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then come back.”
“I could do that or I could take off my clothes, which would you prefer?”
It’s like his eyes light up at the prospect of you undressing, “Take off your clothes.”
“That’s what I thought,” rolling your eyes lightly.
Making a bit of a show of it as you slip your pants off before your shirt follows. Letting your fingers slip into the waist band of your panties, lingering there as you play with the elastic. Gojo’s eyes are trained so dedicatedly on your lower half, waiting impatiently for you to bare yourself to him.
Too bad you’re feeling especially wicked tonight but it is his fault, plus having him like this is incredibly rare and you’re enjoying controlling the pace. Hands leaving your panties as they are and instead crawling back into his lap, smiling pleasantly at his whined complaints.
“Noo, take them off.” Eyes flicking to yours, “Both your bra and panties, I want them off.”
“How about this,” you counteroffer, “pick.”
“You’re so evil.”
“If you don’t pick then they both stay on.”
More disappointed groans pulling from his chest before he firmly states, “Lemme see your tits.”
You scoff at him, “Only because you asked so nicely.” Despite his too sure attitude you follow through and pull your bra off.
He’s itching to touch you, again, seemingly forgetting that he’s restrained to the bed and struggling against the handcuffs. “This is so unfair,” he complains.
“Mhm,” you dismiss him easily.
Keeping your composure has been a little hard, especially when he’s so big and waiting for you. Apparently you’re unable to hide your desire for his cock because he smugly says, “If you want it that bad
 sit on it.”
Well now you don’t want to, you don’t want to let him win, not when you undoubtably have the upper hand in this situation. “Your overconfidence will be your undoing.”
“I may be confident but never overconfident,” he argues back. “You can’t hide how bad you want it, pretty. I know that look in your eye,” his gaze travels further down, “also your panties being drenched are a dead giveaway.”
“Your taunting doesn’t make me want it more,” you stroke a singular finger from the sensitive head of his dick down his whole shaft, enjoying the shudders that run through him at your light touch.
“Come onnnn,” he drags out the words, whingeing about it, “just sit on it, please. You’re so fucking wet I can tell. Fuck yourself open on my big dick, I’m begging for it, sweetheart.”
“I don’t think you deserve it though,” holding his length in your grasp again, touch alternating between firm and so light it’s barely there. You have every intention of driving him mad.
Building him up oh so slowly, letting him rock into you before holding his hips down with your free hand. He’s so dazed and lost in your touch on him, wishing for so much more as you tease him cruelly. Tip leaking precum profusely, twitching under your movements. Gojo’s abdomen keeps pulling tight, whole lower half fighting to fuck up into your fist.
“Hah– You said you were only– hnng– ‘a little’ mad at me,” he whines as your hand pulls away again, “being awfully cruel for someone only a little mad.”
“I disagree,” you hum thoughtfully, “I think you’re lucky that I wanna touch you so bad after you ruined Valentine’s dinner.”
It’s a little more than frustrating how horny you are right now, cunt aching to be stuffed full by him. Standing on your knees only to take him in your hand again and let his cock head rub against your soaked through panties, his precum adding to the mess and making them that much slicker.
Gojo feels a shock go through him at the sight, your gaze all cloudy and borderline cock drunk. Brows pulled together and focusing hard on his dick, so fucking wet that the glide against your panties is smooth and creamy.
He’s finding himself quickly reaching his limit, patience is a virtue and it’s not one he possesses, no matter how hard he tries for you. “Fuck this,” he grunts.
You’re not paying him any mind, not until he’s forcefully pulling on his cuffs. Breaking the chain on the bed frame and lunging forward in record timing. The feat of strength alone is impressive, you didn’t think he’d be able to do it that effortlessly, “Satoru, what– why–”
He has you on your back now, “I did tell you I was gonna get to touch you.”
Both his wrists still adorned in the pink fluffy cuffs like bracelets, it’s the last thing on his mind now that he can finally put his hands on you. Greedy in how he gropes at your body, large palms playing with your tits, fingers pinching your nipples just to make you squirm like you did him.
“‘Toru– hng– this isn’t fair–”
“Maybe not but you weren’t fair either,” he grins, eyes holding wicked intent as he leans down and envelops a nipple in his mouth.
Tongue swirling around it, humming with joy at how you whine back at him. Back bowing into him and his warm touch, your hands move to his hair, threading through it. Pulling away, he flicks your nipple with his tongue and then collects both your hands in his one, holding them above your head in place by your wrists.
Pushing back on him is even less effective than him struggling against the cuffs, his hold has no give, “This was not a part of my plans.”
“That’s funny
” his large hand splays out across your sternum, slowly dragging it down your torso until he moves to cup your cunt in his palm, “because it was always a part of mine.”
Huffing back at him, “I wasn’t the late one– ngh–”
Teasing fingers tapping at your sopping pussy over your panties just to make you jump and quiver, “I’m doing you a favour,” he soothes, “you’re so fucking needy that it was making my heart break, sweetheart.”
“Shut up– hah– no I’m not.”
“Don’t lie,” the sound of fabric ripping registering in your mind only to be replaced by a wet slap, his fingers lightly slapping your dripping cunt, “your devoted boyfriend knows when you’re craving it.”
Defiant in your reply, “I think you’re– hnn– confusing me with your own need.”
“I’ll never deny how desperate I am for your pretty pussy, sweetie,” overwhelmingly proud of himself when he slips two fingers into your cunt. “I’d give us what we both need right now but we both know you couldn’t take it,” he’s leaned in like it’s some secret, those two fingers fucking into you, scissoring them just to ready you for his dick.
Moans tumbling from you despite your best efforts, eyes wet and mind hazy, “Next ti– hnng– oh!–”
“Mhm,” he hums chirpily, signalling for you to try speaking again. Barely glancing your way, too busy watching how deep his fingers are inside you, adding a third just to fuck you open that much more. Distractedly muttering, “You’re taking ‘em so well, I’m surprised you didn’t sit on my cock when I asked.”
“Next time–” you force out, body writhing underneath him, “Next time, I’m– hah– I’m using rope.”
He’s touching you so purposefully, brushing up against all the spots that make you go crazy without actually letting you cum. “Better find some good rope then,” his fingers slip from you and you whine at it, it makes him smile, “because nothing is gonna keep me from your pussy.” He’s presenting his hand for you to see, to look at how creamy you are on his fingers, “Not when it’s always so happy to be played with by me.”
You don’t even get to complain about what he’s said or the fact that he’s not touching you anymore, too quick to slide his dick through your folds. Not even teasing you like he usually would, already pushing into you, opening you up on his cock as carefully as he can.
Gojo tried really hard not to rush but he’s impatient and needy, he’s surprised even himself with the restraint he’s shown. Barely finding it in himself to work you open before stuffing you full how he’s been itching to do ever since he kissed you in the kitchen. Long and moaned whines sounding from him, head dizzy at the feeling of your cunt greedily sucking him in.
Eyes lazily drawing up from where he’s about halfway inside you, up to your torso, to your pretty face. Expression fucked and dazed, dopily watching how he sinks deeper into you steadily. It feels like his heart does a backflip in his chest, shudders wracking his body at how starry eyed you are. He’s losing his mind, feeding off your lust for him, consumed with how good all of this is making him feel.
Everything is overwhelming you, head so full of him that you’re faint. Hands still fighting against his grip on you and getting nowhere and it’s not like he’s even trying especially hard to keep you in place, his focus solely on your pussy right now. It’s completely unfair how easily he turned this around, having him under you and whining was so nice.
Suddenly, his hips slam the rest of the way into you, his pelvis hitting yours and making your stomach flip. Pitiful and surprised mewls leaving you at the fullness of being completely fucked open on his cock. Eyes damn near rolling to the back of your head with it, no doubt if your hands had been free they’d be digging into his skin.
Drawn out moan leaving him before he grins idly, “Just– hnn– making sure you’re still with me.”
“I wish– ah!– I wish you were still– hnn– cuffed,” you pout back at him.
Finally, his hand lets go of your wrists, holding both his hands out for you to see, “Technically still am, sweetheart.” Moving to press on the back of your thighs, crudely bending you in half. So much so that he’s leaning down into your space, breath tickling against your ear, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I feel like I’m going fucking insane.”
The bend of your knees slip to his elbows as he lowers himself even more. The way he’s handling you feels so obscene it’s embarrassing, “Satoru, this posi–”
Whatever you had to say about how he’s folded you into a mean mating press is immediately caught in your throat and turned into lewd moans. Hips drawing back and fucking forward so quickly he nearly takes the wind out of both of you. Thrusts harsh and desperate and messy and so so sharp, cock dragging deliciously against every part of you that it has your toes tingling.
“Fuck– fuck this is– hnnn– I love you so much,” he rushes out urgently, “I love you, I love you, I love you–” he needs to say it, you need to hear him say it because he’s going to fuck you like he doesn’t.
If you were overwhelmed before then you’re completely drowning in sensations now, pleasure shaking you to your core. The sound of him fucking your cunt sloppy and loud, no doubt making a mess out of your bed. You can barely take in a breath before he’s knocking it right back out of your lungs. He’s fucking so deep and somehow, despite his unrestrained and almost feral demeanour, so accurate. Every thrust perfectly hitting your sweet spot, wrecking you just that little bit more every time.
Words failing pathetically, dying into moans every time, not that he really seems to be listening anyways. So addicted to the slick glide of your pussy that he’s barely capable of thinking of anything else. Hips moving on their own, he’s not even sure he could stop himself at this point.
Gojo feels like he might’ve died, cunt so heavenly he feels like he should start praying to it daily or something. “I can’t– fuck– feels so ffucking good– hah– I love you so much,” his face turns and catches sight of the most beautiful thing imaginable, you – fucked dumb and crying over his cock. “God– I’m so fucking sorry for being late but– hnng– worth it.”
He licks away your tears and then presses kisses to your cheeks, softly biting into the soft flesh there, so overwhelmed by everything that he doesn’t even know how to express himself anymore. Both ecstatic and disappointed that he’s so so close to cumming, he wants to cum deep inside you, he wants you to be so full of him that it leaks from your pussy but he also wants to keep fucking you, he wants to see how much you’ll cry over how good it feels.
It's insane how precise and simultaneously wild his thrusts are, your legs kicking slightly against the completely devastating and persistent pleasure he’s delivering over and over again. There’s no warning, you couldn’t warn him even if you were capable of anything but drooling. Your orgasm sudden and earth shattering, shaking and whimpering under him, hot all over as the pleasure washes over you wave after wave.
You’re so shaky, you feel so fragile as you cum all over his dick. Not that that stops him though, your orgasm only spurring him on. His lashes fluttering, you’re creaming around him so deliciously that he might pass out, greedy cunt sucking him right back in.  
“You’re so– hah– how am I meant to– hnn– fuck–” he looks deeply into your lost gaze, shivers running down his spine at the look in your eyes, “you need to take everything I’m about to give you.”
That’s the only warning he graces you with before he’s shoving himself into you to the hilt, balls deep and dumping all his cum inside you. Hips grinding and rutting into you as he rides out his high, pitiful whines leaving him that he’d consider feeling embarrassed over if your pussy wasn’t his literal heaven on earth.
He’s so unwilling to pull out of you, wanting to keep everything he’s given you firmly inside but you whinge from underneath him and he knows that you can’t be comfortable. Showing mercy and control, he moves so he can roll the both of you. Still not daring to pull out of you but carefully swapping positions so that you’re laying peacefully on top of him.
Cheek pressed to his collarbone, somewhat struggling to get your breathing completely even again. Energy completely drained as you drool onto his skin, seconds away from passing out. Gojo’s hands stroke up and down your back calmingly, it makes you feel warm and not so exposed.
“Happy Valentine’s,” kissing the top of your head. “I am really sorry for being late,” he reiterates.
Your tongue feels heavy as you mumble out, “Then stay cuffed next time.”
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𝒂.𝒏. and we're finally finished !!! i am genuinely SO sorry that these weren't all put out in a timely manner but in my defense,,, i only decided i wanted to do something for valentines the day before 😭 having these all done feels so awesome though and i hope you guys enjoyed !! thanks so much for reading âŁïž
[⚠] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision
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2amriize · 6 months ago
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.ᐟ RIIZE reaction to you avoiding their kiss àŒ‰â€§â‚ŠËš.
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req: hello!! can you do rii7e reacting to you dodging their kiss?? tysm i lovd ur work
pairing: bf!riize x reader — masterlist
⭑.ᐟ shotaro
“Eh?” Shotaro would look utterly puzzled when you turned away as he tried to kiss you. After a moment, he’d let out a laugh and lean in to try again. But when you dodged him a second time, he’d start playfully chasing your lips, giggling as he did. Finally, you’d give in, and he’d reward you with a long, sweet kiss on your lips.
⭑.ᐟ eunseok
Oh, Eunseok wasn’t going to let that slide. The second you turned your face away, he’d waste no time. Grasping your face gently with one hand, he’d guide you back to look at him before closing the distance. “What exactly were you trying to do?” he’d ask softly after stealing the kiss you tried to avoid.
⭑.ᐟ sungchan
Sungchan would immediately panic, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. What did he do wrong? Why were you avoiding him? But then, he’d notice the mischievous smile on your face and let out a sigh of relief, realizing it was all a joke. “Why do you always scare me like that?” he’d mutter, leaning in for the kiss you finally allowed.
⭑.ᐟ wonbin
Wonbin wouldn’t give up, he was determined to get that kiss. With his best puppy-dog eyes, he’d look at you with exaggerated despair until you couldn’t resist anymore. “Please, y/n, I need a kiss right now,” he’d plead dramatically, grinning as you finally gave in and let him kiss you.
⭑.ᐟ seunghan
“Huh, so this is how we’re playing it
” Avoiding Seunghan’s kiss was a dangerous game. Though you both laughed in the moment, he’d make a mental note to get you back later. From that day on, he’d start dodging your kisses just to see you pout and complain. He found your reaction endlessly amusing.
⭑.ᐟ sohee
“Oh?” Sohee would pause, staring at you for a few seconds in disbelief. Then, he’d try again, only to be dodged once more. Crossing his arms, he’d shake his head with a playful but stern expression. “I don’t think girlfriends are supposed to avoid their boyfriend’s kisses
 am I wrong?” he’d tease, leaning in one last time to claim his kiss.
⭑.ᐟ anton
“Come on, y/n, don’t be silly.” From the start, Anton knew you were just teasing him. Even so, he wasn’t about to let you off the hook. Smiling, he’d place his hand gently on your cheek to guide you back toward him. Between the laughter and playfulness, he’d sneak in the kiss you tried to escape, grinning triumphantly.
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masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi
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ivysprophecy · 8 months ago
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Not so good surprise.
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warnings: talk about nipples, nipple piercings, mentions of sex and boners? i think that’s it. obvious cursing.
word count: 728
an: hey guys!! so this is my first time posting in a long time but both my friend and i @kimoralov3 wanted to write little blurbs about jj reacting to nipple piercings so please go show theirs some love!! warning this is unedited so i hope it’s not too incoherent
—
"JJ! Baby are you home?? I got ya a surprise!" you walk through the door with a sneaky smirk on your face, setting your bag on the couch as you walk in.
He walks out of the bedroom adjusting his hat on his head, his eyes clocking your chest the second he looks at you. His mouth is a gap, unable to look away from your chest.
"What's that?" he points at your chest accusatory walking closer, his eyes not moving.
"What's what baby?"
"That- those- right there- those-," his finger reaches out poking at your erected nipple causing you to let out a small yelp raising your hands to cover them.
"Woah! Owe- shit baby you can't touch them yet! They're so fucking sensitive- shit that hurt."
And with that his eyes finally move from your chest up to your face, bulging out of his sockets.
"Shit mama I'm sorry- wait- pause. Time out baby, did you just say I can't touch them yet??"
You nod amused at his reaction, wincing a little at the lasting ache, "Yea, you gotta wait a couple months to let them heal."
"Well how long is that supposed to be??"
"The guy said anywhere from 4-9 months."
"NINE MONTHS??" Your poor boyfriend is flabbergasted, wounded, physically pained by the news. You could swear you see tears swelling in his eyes. "Wait- wait wait wait wait. You're telling me some random guy did this??"
"I mean yea- I had to go to a professional. It just happened to be a guy."
JJ in all honestly couldn't care less if it was a guy or a girl, he's just pissed that it wasn't him who got to do it, to be there, to see it, to see them.
"So I can't touch them at all? Until their all healed up? Mama that's too long... I can't kiss 'em? Touch 'em at all? Shit-" Poor guy is in agony, quite literally spiraling at the thought of not being able to have his hands on them. With or without the piercings. "Doesn't seem like a good surprise mama."
You can't help but laugh at him honestly, he's quite literally almost in tears.
"Are you sure about that baby?" he's about to give his two cents and complain before you carefully lift your tank top over your head and tossing it on the couch next to your bag. "How about now."
Now, the boy is silent. Stuck dead in his tracks, mouth open like a fish out of water gasping for air.
"I know they're a little bruised and swollen so they look funny right now but-"
"Shhhh sh sh sh-" He interrupts you putting a finger to your lips, looking down at them in admiration. Again you can't help but giggle. Your boyfriend has never been one to hide how he feels about anything, usually dramatically as well. "Holy shit mama- look at 'em they've got little jewels 'n shit- look so pretty mama. How am I supposed to not touch these? So beautiful-"
"Well if you want you can help me clean them but that's the closest you're gonna get."
"How do you clean 'em?" Frankly it was adorable that he was so desperate that he was willing to learn.
"I've gotta take a cup, put some saline in there and tilt it back onto them a few times so I can wash them out good- it actually looks kinda silly-"
"But when I do that I can touch them right?"
You can't stop giggling at this point. "Yes JJ, you'll be able to hold 'em while I do it."
"A win is a win I guess- I can do this. For sure."
You press a kiss to your boyfriends lip with a smile still lingering on your face. "You're adorable baby. But I don't think you'll last a day. But you can look at 'em all you want I promise. I have to wear loose shirts anyway so you'll have easier access-"
"Don't tease me right now mama I'm serious- already got me all worked up just by lookin' at 'em."
And sure enough JJ was already working a semi, "Oh you poor thing... why don't we head to the bedroom and let 'mama' fix that for you yea?"
He was off the bedroom, dragging you behind him before you could even finish.
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radio-fmm · 1 year ago
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one piece men react to you screaming their full name
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ft. Ace, Zoro, Sanji
SFW, mentions of alcohol and smoking, gn reader
Masterlist
𖀐⭒àč‹àŁ­ ⭑ .ᐟ ᥣ𐭩
Ace
“PORTGAS D. ACE” your voice resonates through all the walls, rooms and every nook and cranny from the Moby Dick. The mentioned stood frozen at the dinner table fork still full of food, he knew better than to run away
“What did you do now?” Marco asked eyes wide open
“Nothing!
 that I remember” Ace scratched the back of his head trying to make memory of his recent activities, searching for whatever may had upset you
Marco laughed in disbelief “You’re a dead man” he said before taking another sip of his drink
You entered the room, stomping your way to your clueless boyfriend “May I have a word with you?” The tone and the politeness of the sentence made Marco fear for his dear friend. Ace nodded before he stood up and followed behind smile beaming in hopes you’ll have some mercy. A chorus of teasing ‘UUUUH’s were heard as you exited the dining room.
“Have I told you how radiant you look today?” Ace leaned over to kiss your cheek but you ducked making him loose his balance
“Don’t start with me Portgas” a shiver ran down Ace’s back, both from fear and
 something else.
“You did this” you held a pillow cover in front of his face “You burned my only bed sheets, and you’re getting me new ones even if you end up in debt with everyone on this ship”
Ace was attracted to you all the time, but there was something in the way you would always stand your ground and how gorgeous you looked right now that was knocking him out of his feet. He placed his hand in the one were you held the pillow cover and pulled you in for a hug
“Im sorry sweetheart I’d get you new ones on the next island, you can borrow mine for now” you rolled your eyes and sighed, he got you wrapped all around his finger and he knew it, you couldn’t be mad at him for long
“Of course I’m taking yours, you sleep at my bed every night anyways
 but wash them first” Ace picked you up and pampered your face with kisses “You look so hot when you’re angry
Zoro
“RORONOA ZORO” you screamed while exiting to the deck where he was working out, all of the straw hats looked back at Zoro in fear, Sanji holding in a laugh
Few things made this man flinch but he couldn’t help but catch himself lose balance when he heard his full name exit your lips in such an angry tone followed by your big stumps getting louder as you got closer
Everyone wrapped up whatever they were doing and ran off to the kitchen, leaving Zoro to face his demise alone
“What now?” He played it off trying to sound as nonchalant as he could not even looking your direction
“How many times have I asked you to not leave your sake around my desk?” If looks could kill your boyfriend would be a dead man
“Where am I supposed to put it then?” He scoffed crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked at you for a second and his heart clenched at the cute way your brows furrowed and your arms rested on your hips
“Oh! I don’t know maybe, just getting silly here, IN THE PANTRY WHERE IT BELONGS!” Zoros condecency was driving you insane making your tone scale
The swordsman noticed how you were getting tense and teardrops threaten to run down your cheeks, he sighed a little embarrassed he had made you this upset. He cupped your cheeks while he apologized in that soft tone he reserved just for you
“I’m sorry I forgot to put it away last night, it won’t happen again I promise” he drew comforting circles around your cheek as he whispered
“It got all over my notebooks” oh so that’s why you were so shaken up
“I’ll clean it up baby” your boyfriend kissed your forehead as he made his way to the kitchen for a towel, as he opened the door every crew member fell comically on top of each other, they were ears dropping as they do.
Before Zoro could complain, your sweet laugh was heard at the distance which made him smile a little “You should listen to her mosshead” Sanji muttered which made the swordsman’s smile drop and scream back at him
Sanji
“BLACK LEG SANJI” even though you were screaming at him, the cook couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter at the way you wouldn’t use his birth last name as you knew he despised it and what it stand for, instead raging while using his public name.
You stormed in the kitchen eyes fixed on him, even angry Sanji thought you were breathtaking
“Yes my world?” he beamed a smile at you which you didn’t know if it annoyed or charmed you
“What have I said about smoking indoors?” Sanji felt the air get stuck in his throat, his eyes drifted from yours in shame
“I uhm-“ he laughed nervously as you got closer and closer cornering him against the counter, both hands caging him while they rested on said counter
“You know damn well I hate when my clothes smell like cigarettes, now imagine how I feel when my whole room stinks” you grabbed Sanjis tie to move his face closer to yours without breaking eye contact, you knew exactly what to do to make him a nervous wreck
The blondes heart couldn’t help but skip several beats at the way you were acting right now, he felt bad about upsetting you but he could get used to this side of you
“My apologies love, you know I cant manage to go without a smoke and sometimes I don’t want to leave your side” he twitched when his gaze met yours as he tried to explain himself
“Well you better start to manage” with a torturous slow move you took the cigarette that hanged from your boyfriends lips and threw it on the floor before stepping on it to take it out “Or I’ll move out of the room” you smiled teasingly while exploring his handsome features, stopping at his lips.
The cook turned all shades of red and pink breathing heavily, squirming a “Yes ma’m” before you kissed him passionately and breaking it abruptly
You winked at him before leaving the poor poor man absolutely stunted and a hot mess
𖀐⭒àč‹àŁ­ ⭑ .ᐟ ᥣ𐭩
Hi! This is my first time doing this type of format so tell me what you think and feel free to request. English is not my first language so correct me if I made any mistakes.
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bruisedboys · 2 years ago
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i love ur writing sm đŸ„č since we got jealous!finnick can we get jealous!reader and how finnick reacts to it? ❀
“Baby, come on.” Finnick follows you out of the glass elevator, almost jogging to catch up with your angry march. You speed up pointedly. “What did I do?”
“Nothing, Finnick,” you say sharply, without looking at him. The entire elevator ride was heavy with your silent irritation. You don’t want to talk about it, obviously.
“Well, why are you acting like I did?” Finnick presses.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You— sweetheart.” Finnick snags your wrist and pulls you back. You scowl, annoyed at being pushed around. You struggle in his grip but he only grabs your other wrist, holding you still. It’s times like this that you hate having such a muscular boyfriend.
“Come on,” he says, practically begging with you now. “What’s the matter? I don’t understand why you’re so mad.”
“It’s nothing,” you say through your teeth, still struggling against his grip.
Finnick rolls his eyes and holds you tighter, his fingers digging into your wrists. “Is this about Johanna?”
“What?” You falter in your attempts to escape. It is about Johanna, actually. You’d rather he didn't know that, though. “Why would it be about Johanna?”
Even to your own ears your incredulity sounds fake, your voice a notch too high. Finnick stares at you hard and you look away, burning hot under his gaze. Big mistake.
“So it is about her?” he asks slowly. You can hear the knowing smirk in his voice.
“I don’t—“ you stammer, desperately trying to string together a lie that’s not as embarrassing as the truth. You stare at him and his awful grin for a few seconds, fuming. Then, “Fine, yes, it’s about Johanna. She wouldn’t leave you alone!”
“We talked for ten minutes, honey,” Finnick says, measured to your frantic. “You know she’s just a friend.”
“She called you handsome and then winked at you,” you say, mortified, your act completely forgotten. "What am I supposed to think about that?"
You realise your mistake too late — you’ve given yourself away. You’re about to take it back in an attempt to save yourself from an onslaught of teasing when Finnick laughs.
“So you’re saying I’m not handsome?” He asks, eyebrows raised.
Bastard. You hate him, you swear.
“Never mind,” you say bluntly. “Whatever.”
You twist out of his grasp and stalk off. You’re still absolutely rolling in annoyance when you get to yours and Finnick’s shared room. You get as far as the entryway before Finnick’s on you again like a hawk. He grabs you while you're sliding your shoes off and pushes you none too gently against the nearest wall.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Sure you are. You just laughed at me!" You say incredulously, hitting him in the chest.
“Because you’re being silly, darling," Finnick says. Somehow, he makes it sound affectionate. He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. "Johanna’s a friend. How can you think I’d ever look at anyone else that way when I have you, hm? I’m yours forever, sweet girl."
You blink at him. What is his problem? He laughs at you for being jealous and then says something as life ruining as that? He’s gonna be the death of you one day.
"You really need to stop saying things like that,” you say weakly.
Finnick tilts his head to the side, a knowing look in his ocean eyes. “Why’s that?”
You glare. “You know why.”
Finnick just laughs. “You’re adorable.”
You’re about to tell him to shut up when he kisses you, too fast for you to see it coming, too lovely for you to stop it. His mouth is warm. He tastes like wine. You forget you’re angry at him. When he’s kissing you like this, you have no reason to be jealous. You guess you never really did.
“I’m sorry,” you say when he pulls away. His kiss has unravelled you. Sucked away all your anger and hot jealousy. “For being so mad at you. S’not your fault.”
"It's okay," Finnick tells you, shrugging. He dips down to kiss you again. You push up on your toes to reciprocate his heat, your hand pushing up to love on the hair at the nape of his neck. He’s pulling back before either of you can get too carried away, a smug smile on his pretty mouth as he says, “Jealousy looks good on you, baby."
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it đŸ€
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rosieyart · 4 months ago
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okay, by popular demand (and by popular demand, i mean 3 people and my inability to keep my mouth shut) i am here with my saiou/ousai relationship + mini character analysis. this is an elaboration on this ask i got earlier !!
i should mention that i’ve only ever played through v3 once, so there is probably a lot i am missing, nuance wise and what not. i also haven’t edited this well, so it’s kinda just a word dump (sorry), so i’m not sure how understandable/coherent it’ll be. nor do i know how original my ideas are; there’s probably someone who’s dumped their opinions exactly like mine somewhere
 in any case, here is my conclusion on why i think saiou is a rather intriguing ship and why i’m personally drawn to them, individually n otherwise ✌
ouma kokichi. god what a complex character. some might argue otherwise, but i think his character and his arc throughout the game is not only hard to crack/understand, but integral to the v3 plot and overarching themes presented. well never truly know what he was thinking, and so many have already fought tooth and nail to defend or oppose him. in my humble opinion, however, the way i see it is this: ouma’s overall goal was to unite everyone against an active, obvious threat in the killing game. the mastermind was hidden amongst them, as they decided found out on, and by outing himself as the mastermind, making himself a clear and obvious target, it encouraged the remaining survivors to build trust within one another and fight together. kokichi realized very early on that no one was going to trust anyone as long as there was a hidden mastermind posing as a student within their group. he knew they weren’t going to get anywhere if they kept doubting each other — so in a very unorthodox way, he united them together. they didn’t need a friend, he realized, they needed an enemy. and by default, he sort of becomes shuichi’s nemesis as most antagonists in the games do.
i was on tiktok the other day and found this comment that i thought made a good point, regarding kokichi’s character and why people hate him.
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though i am biased, i think it’s fair to say that in a world without the killing game, kokichi would want to be friends with shuichi. or at the very least, he’d be intrigued by him and push shuichi’s buttons to figure him out. i think it’s funny and such a nice detail to notice, but just as shuichi (and us, by default) are confused about kokichi and his actions, shuichi himself is actually a mystery to ouma as well. in the eng version, kokichi had shuichi labeled “trustworthy?” on his whiteboard meanwhile in the jp version, it’s “tricky/can’t figure him out.” in both versions regardless of translation, i think it’s fair to say that kokichi is intrigued and wants to understand shuichi better. one part of their dynamic i really love is the whole “i’m gonna annoy because it’s so fun and you react to said annoyances in ways i thoroughly enjoy.” and it’s fun, and silly, but i think it’s also kokichi’s way of figuring shuichi out. shuichi is
 an anomaly. he’s an ultimate detective who’s supposed to search for the truth, yet he is ironically afraid of what he’ll find out. he has a knack for discovering and unearthing mysteries (he can’t help but connect two dots together) and yet he simultaneously is hesitant to discover more. he wants to find the truth, but is willing to tell lies in the classroom trials. this is a really fun juxtaposition with kokichi, who is notorious for telling lies and skirting around the truth like it’s the plague. and yet, they both want the same thing: to find out the truth and be done with this killing game. one is searching for the liars within their group, the other is finding out the truths.
this is one reason why i really enjoy saiou. one of the biggest themes for drv3 is the relationship between truths and lies. there’s the overarching “truth” of their world which is that it’s gone to hellfire and everyone but them are dead. the world ended. except, nope! that’s a lie! the *real* truth is that they’re in a killing game show. kokichi is known for telling lies, and so when he reveals the fire destroyed world outside and says that this is the truth out of the outside world, it’s ironic. kokichi knows there’s something else up, but he reveals the truth of the outside world to them (this, from what i understand/theorize, is ultimately to further everyone’s hatred towards ouma and help them form a close and trusting bond together, but the symbolism behind it is really interesting to me). “here is your truth,” he says, and they can’t dispute it as a lie because it’s right there in front of them. just like they couldn’t dispute gonta in the fourth trial.
except
 what *really* defines truth? kokichi must’ve known the outside world was a lie, or that there was something more to it, otherwise why did he go through with his suicide in chap 5? to beat a dead horse: he tells a lie about the “truth” that is the outside world. we circle back to this lie vs truth theme in chapter six when shuichi starts questioning his sense of self. what is really true if he used to be someone else? if his memories and experiences are fake, does that make himself a fake human? a fake person? ultimately we come to know that it doesn’t matter — *he* gets to choose his own truth, even if there are lies buried beneath them. his memories may be fake, but his emotions and feelings aren’t. you cant fake the beating of your own heart or the pain you feel at knowing it’s all unreal, that it’s all a *lie*.
one thing i just thought was so so clever and genuinely helped me understand kokichi more was his friendship reward. for every friendship star completion thingy you complete, you get their underwear (💀) and a special skill to use in the trials. kokichi’s friendship reward is “kind lie.” he has a multitude of lies under his belt — real ones, hurtful ones, white ones, and ofc kind ones. you could argue his plan to deceive everyone as the mastermind was both a hurtful lie and a kind lie — he was ultimately lying for the greater good (imo). shuichi, despite being afraid of the truth, has no problem lying for the greater good either. i was so confused about the whole “perjury” aspect added to this game. i thought it was just another lame addition that didn’t make sense as a means of attempting to change it up a little in comparison to the last two games. but now i understand it’s greater purpose. lying is ultimately not a bad thing. not always, anyway. lying, as we find out, can help us pursue the truth. and i think kokichi knows this to be true in some ways, which is why he’s always acting so oblivious and naive at some times — or outright lying when he knows the truth is the opposite of what he’s saying. without a doubt, kokichi seriously helped move debates along during the trials. pretty sure whether you hate him or love him, people could agree to that. even if he appeared to be spouting nonsense or derailing the conversation, shuichi being the detective he is was able to slowly but surely understand (if only somewhat minimally) kokichi’s methods and thinking process. which is why chap 5 was so wild because it quite literally was all up to shuichi. kokichi single handedly put his trust into kaito to follow through with the plan, and shuichi to figure it out; NO ONE ELSE would’ve been able to figure it out except shuichi (except maybe maki but she was too stubborn to see thru to the truth). and that is like. holy shit??? that’s crazy to me and i think it shows that despite not trusting anyone and not knowing how it was going to turn out, kokichi took that gamble anyway. and it worked! except yknow. it also didn’t, in a way. all in all, the lying aspect of the trail grounds ties into the bigger overarching theme of choosing your own truth to live, and choosing what lies to believe in — good or bad.
side note: i think it’s so funny how mad kokichi gets when shuichi lies about seeing him in the virtual world in chapter four. had shuichi not lied, we wouldn’t have figured out it was gonta (or more likely, kokichi would’ve spoon fed the answer to everyone a bit more). gonta wasn’t supposed to have memory loss, and i have to wonder if not lying about kokichi would’ve made the trial go along if gonta still had his memories from the virtual world. in any case, when shuichi pulled the “yeah i actually did see you walk up the stairs” — the fact he LIED (mr “i’m searching for the truth so we can live and find the culprit” detective) to notorious king of liars ouma kokichi was so funny to me. like girl. ofc kokichi’s gonna realize you lied. and he did and he got so fucking mad over it and kokichi being petty like that and just saying “yeah okay gonta’s the culprit” is so funny to me. bro was LIVID he decided to just up and say the truth to be petty 😭
moving on, i think the big three characters juxtaposed with shuichi is something to note. those three being kaede, kaito, and kokichi. mayyyybe i’m looking a bit too much into this but i want to mention their relationship with shuichi and their character designs because it feels very intentional to me. a while back i discovered shuichi and kokichi have inverted color palettes — black with light accents vs white with dark accents. grey-ish yellow vs purple eyes. but the eye color inversion also actually applies to kaito and kaede, who, just like kokichi, have purple eyes. here is my argument: purple is an important color to the story, as it overall conveys a symbolism for trust and truth. if you look at those three’s color palettes, purple is a notable color. for kaito, it’s dominating. kaede, she’s a bit more desaturated, and kokichi it’s like his accent color. barely there, but noticeable nonetheless.
kaede is our first culprit (except she isn’t since her plan failed). she is trusting and sweet and kind and encouraging. she is desperate, *desperate* to find the mastermind first thing because she is heavily determined to help everyone escape. her color palette is a mix of purple and pink, with pink being more prominent and her purple being a more lavender shade. she’s desaturated in color, especially in her eyes, and i want to say this is likely symbolic of her desire to find the truth, yet her willingness to deceive others simultaneously. she’s not a bad person, far from it, but when she “kills” rantarou, she doesn’t own up to it immediately. she owns up to it eventually, but she also doesn’t take advantage of the first blood perk as a means of further trying to find the mastermind. she is willing to lie about her plan to shuichi (even if it’s lie by deception/not telling) and willing to take a risk to find and kill the mastermind. this, i believe, is why her eyes are so desaturated in purple; she is telling the truth, but it’s watered down.
kaito is almost the complete opposite of kokichi, but also not exactly the same as kaede. out of the three, he has the brightest purple eyes and the most purple on his body. he is a living, breathing, walking example of trust and truth. he wants to find the truth so badly and would never even THINK to tell a lie. would never even consider murder, even if it was the mastermind. his hair is purple, his jacket is purple, and his eyes are purple as all hell. purple, in my opinion, is a huge color resembling truth and trust. he *trusts* maki just because he wants to. he *trusts* shuichi just because he wants to. he wants to believe in them because he wants to find the good in everyone. his trust in them help bolster shuichi into a better mindset, especially after kaede, and encourages him to keep going. kaito might not be the brightest, nor the most helpful in the trials, but emotionally he is vital to shuichi. because he *trusts* shuichi.
kokichi has the least amount of purple in his color palette, but i think his purple accents are the most important out of all of the purple trio. if purple is the color of truth and trust, then having that color reflected on kokichi almost seems ironic and misinforming. except it isn’t. ouma kokichi, the notorious king of lies, is actually quite good at leading everyone towards the truth. the only purple on him is in the dyed tips if his hair and his eyes— almost like the truth his bleeding out of him, or rather just barely visible that you can’t make it out unless you focus hard enough. after all, at first glance i imagine everyone would take in the checkered scarf and the fact black and white is so prominent on him. i think it’s symbolic to have purple as his eye color. it’s a nice character design aspect imo, but it also harkens back to that one saying “the eyes are the window to the soul” or something long that line. despite what kokichi might say or do, the truth is in his eyes (literally). it’s silent and unassuming, but it’s there. his eyes are actually a brighter and darker purple than kaede’s. not as bright as kaito’s, but still something to note.
with all this being said, shuichi gets a difference sense of truth and trust from each of them. kaede provides him an equal dose of truths and lies, kaito gives him absolute truth, and kokichi gives him almost all lies to find the truth.
and i really, *really* love the dynamic between shuichi and kokichi with this whole truth vs lie theme. kokichi, as we learn in his free time events, loves to play games. he’s a bit childish but still extremely mature. his way of having fun is messing with people (though not necessarily in a mean way. after all, he makes the stakes extremely high and concerning, like killing yourself if you lose — but he still purposefully rigs each game so they end in a tie, or with shuichi winning. hell, he STABS himself, hurts himself, in the knife game that is in the final FTE and holy shit if that isn’t foreshadowing for chapter five idk what is. he is willing to hurt himself to avoid others getting hurt. obviously this can get more complicated when it comes to chap. 4. you could argue he hurt miu and gonta terribly and he should’ve died if what i said was true, but i would counter argue by saying the killing game would’ve gone on and on, just like tsumugi wanted, without his intervention there
 still a heart wrenching trial nonetheless and gonta and miu both deserved better imo. but what would danganronpa be without unfair trials and bullshit like that?).
it’s this push and this pull, this dance, if you will, between shuichi and kokichi. kokichi is a trickster pulling various stunts and never revealing his hand, and shuichi is a detective trying to uncover his secrets. i think kokichi gets thrilled at the prospect of being uncovered like that — he lies and he lies and he *wants* someone to catch him. after all, in the love suite hotel his entire thing is phantom thief being captured by detective shuichi

 the fact he still says “because i love you shuichi” is fucking insane, but that’s actually not the most important part here. during the love suite, he brings up playing games again, just like in the FTEs. “you weren’t bored playing with me, were you?” kokichi asks. and then “are you mad because i toyed with you? don’t worry. i’m always thinking about you!—“ (bombastic side eye đŸ€šđŸłïžâ€đŸŒˆ) “—you’re always trying your best to catch me. i really have to give it my all to win .” and then shuichi points out directly after that he seems to be enjoying himself, despite being a “cornered criminal.” and that’s when kokichi admits that he *wants* shuichi to catch him. 
.. oh boy the connotations here are kinda crazy but
. it gets even crazier. i cant believe this part is voice acted but here i’ll just link the video so people can watch. (from 4:32 to 5:10) a lot of this, esp towards the end, is likely for the whole romantic love suite hotel roleplaying thing going on to appease the audience playing the v3, but even still it’s such a fun dynamic. again, the push and the pull. it almost feels like a game of tag, the thing going on between shuichi and kokichi. except it’s hard sometimes to figure out who’s running after who. overall, kokichi is a liar and it’s hard to tell what he says is true, and shuichi is a detective hungry for truths.
side note 2.0: i think a lot of people hate saiou because it feels toxic and i can sorta see where they’re coming from: from a very bare bones glossing over their character dynamic, i could potentially see how they got to that conclusion, but i don’t think that conclusion did any real deep diving into their dynamic and characters. so no, saiou is not toxic. and also, it should be mentioned the moment shuichi shows signs of unease in the love suite hotel after kokichi shoved him over the bed, bro was up and out. kokichi respect boundaries and understands a no when he hears one 😁👍
tldr: truths vs. lies. games. purple = truths and trust. chasing after one another. saiousai cool âœŒïžđŸ‘
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whayjhey · 5 months ago
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excuse this silly drawing but— once upon a time i thought of a padme!survives au where she raises the twins in tatooine but she has no idea who vader is and it went a little something like this: PadmĂ© eyed her five-year-old daughter from across the table. Leia was in a grumpier mood than usual, evidenced in the way she gripped her spoon tightly and the way she chomped on her breakfast like an angry Sarlaac. (PadmĂ© was reminded of how her baby girl looked a lot like Anakin, especially when she was this way. Her heart clenched at the thought.)
"Leia," Padmé said when she was no longer able to take the silence. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" And where in the galaxy was Luke? Leia grumbled a reply, one that her mother could barely hear. "Use your words, sweetheart," Padmé chastised half-heartedly. "I said," Leia huffed, looking up finally, her brown eyes meeting its identical, yet older, counterpart. "Why didn't you tell me about Daddy?" The admission caught the former senator off-guard.
PadmĂ©'s brows furrowed, confused. "What do you mean, baby? Of course I've told you about Daddy." About one side of him, anyway. The one of the kind Jedi Knight, her handsome protector. Of her sweet husband, the love of her life. Of the man who was so excited to have a baby, but had fallen along with the demise of the Republic before he had gotten the chance to know that he was a father of two. "No, Mama," Leia argued. "I mean— why didn't you tell me Daddy was alive?"
Before Padmé got a chance to react, Luke bounded into their small dining area, hands clutching a piece of paper close to his chest. "Mama!" Luke exclaimed excitedly. "Look, I drew Daddy!"
He slammed the tiny piece of paper onto the table.
Padmé paled at what she saw.
She almost balked at the words "DADDY" scribbled in his childlike handwriting, underneath the sketch of the galaxy's most feared.
She took a deep breath after a moment of silence. "Luke," she whispered shakily. Her son had a smile so bright she didn't have the heart to warn him of the man — if Vader even was one? — on paper.
The Empire had little of its propaganda on the sand planet; how in the living Force was Luke able to conjure the image of Palpatine's right hand man? Worse, why was Luke suddenly calling him his father? It didn't make sense.
It was Leia who brought Padmé out of her state of shock. "It's not fair!" the little girl cried. "How come Luke gets to dream of Daddy but not me!"
Padmé was having a hard time comprehending. "You dreamt of him?" She asked Luke, who was still eyeing his work of art proudly.
"Yeah!" Luke nodded his head happily. "I dreamt of him, Mama! He had a big black suit and a glowy red sword and he said he was Daddy!"
"Luke," Padmé started again. Kriff, she didn't want to break his heart. "Are you sure, sweetie? It was only just a dream."
Dreams. Force forbid, Padmé had to deal with another one. The last important dream belonging to a certain someone ended up costing her her entire world.
"I'm sure, Mama," Luke said seriously. "He walked up to me and said, 'Luke, I am your father!' He was very tall! Do you think I can get to be as tall as Daddy, Mama?"
Padmé blinked once. Twice.
After everything she'd ever been through, she didn't think that she'd be caught off guard by anything anymore.
She didn't want to believe it. This was all simply a misunderstanding. Luke had been always wanting to meet his Daddy; maybe her baby boy was just projecting, his wishes manifesting itself in his dreams and imagination.
Not all visions by Force users turned out to be true; she was living proof of that.
Padmé watched as Luke continued to boast about his encounter with his supposed father, Leia pouting in jealousy beside him. Right. Luke was just a boy. It was only just a dream. She could already see the difficult conversation ahead with her twins.
But then she couldn't help thinking... why would Luke picture Vader, of all the people? She needed a chat with Obi-wan. Soon. (check out the rest of my stuff: masterpost)
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never-mind-09 · 2 months ago
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The silence in the manor had grown heavy.
Too heavy.
Three days. No sign of him. No word.
You told yourself it didn’t matter. That it wasn’t your place to ask.
You weren’t his master. You weren’t even anything clearly defined.
But you were something.
At least
 you thought so.
And now, just like that, he’s back.
Standing in the hall outside your room. Dusting off a glove like he never left.
Not a hair out of place. Not even a wrinkle in his coat.
Your heart stutters but you force your face to stay neutral.
"You're back," you say, not quite a question.
He bows his head slightly. "Indeed."
A beat.
You wait for more. An explanation. A reason. Anything.
It doesn't come.
He just stands there. Calm. Watching. As if he hadn’t vanished like a ghost.
You swallow. “No note?”
“I assumed it unnecessary. You know I always return.”
You almost laugh. But it’s hollow. “Right. Silly me.”
Your footsteps echo as you cross the room. You set down the book you hadn’t really been reading and lean back on the edge of the table, arms folded.
So,” you say finally, quietly, “what are we?”
He doesn’t answer. Of course he doesn’t.
You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. “Your little toy for the five spare minutes you happen to have between duties?”
That lands. Not because he reacts—but because he doesn’t. Not even a flicker.
And somehow, that’s worse.
You shake your head, more to yourself than to him. “Forget it.”
You look away. Your shoulders sag, just slightly.
You tell yourself not to care. Not to feel this stupid tug in your chest. Not to wonder if he sees you as anything more than a distraction.
But you do care. And you do wonder.
Still

What right did you even have to ask?
You draw in a breath, trying to make your voice sound neutral again. “I still have things to do."
You don’t meet his eyes. “Please go.”
No resistance. No argument.
Sebastian only bows his head slightly, that unreadable smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“As you wish.”
The day drags on slowly, the same routine of dusting, sorting, and filing. But it feels different today. There's an edge to everything. The silence of the manor is only broken by the sound of your movements, the quiet shuffle of your shoes across the floor.
You're in the library now, organizing the shelves. You can feel it before he speaks. The weight of his presence, the familiar shift in the air.
"You’re doing it all wrong, you know."
You freeze for a moment, but don't turn around. You can’t be bothered to look at him just yet.
“I don’t need your help, Sebastian,” you say, the sharpness in your voice betraying how much his presence has started to get under your skin. "I have it covered."
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but you can almost hear the faintest amusement in his silence. And then, ever the patient one, he moves closer, rearranging the books with a precision only he could manage.
You clench your jaw, irritation building.
“What do you want, Sebastian?” you ask, frustration creeping into your tone. “You’re always around when I’m just trying to get some damn peace.”
This time, he pauses completely, turning to face you. His eyes are cool, assessing you in a way that only he can do.
“You’re assuming you're just a plaything for my convenience,” he says, his voice calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes your heart skip a beat. “Bold of you, don’t you think?”
For a moment, your breath hitches. The words stung, but there’s truth in them, too. The kind of truth you hadn’t really wanted to face. But before you can respond, the frustration bursts forth.
“No,” you snap, turning toward him fully now, anger flaring. “I’m the one who’s bold? You’re the one who makes me feel like that—like I’m nothing more than an afterthought. Just here when it’s convenient for you, and gone when you decide you don’t need me. How else am I supposed to feel?”
His gaze doesn’t waver. He doesn’t get defensive, doesn’t try to deflect.
“Fair enough,” he says softly, taking a small step closer. His voice is low, almost too calm for what’s just transpired. “But I never said you were nothing. Perhaps you simply assumed that’s all I saw you as. That’s on you, not me.”
You open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words don’t come. Instead, you feel a sharp tug in your chest. You hate how much he’s getting under your skin. How much you feel like you need to explain yourself.
And then, almost as if he’s read your thoughts, he steps forward, gently cupping your face in his hands. His touch is cool, but there’s something soft in the way he holds you, deliberate, but not forceful.
He leans in and his kiss is slow, tender. It pulls at you in a way you didn’t expect, all soft pressure and a quiet heat. His thumbs brush lightly over your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, and for a moment, everything else fades. There’s nothing but the feeling of his hands on your face, the warmth of his lips, and the quiet ache of something unsaid.
When he pulls away, his fingers linger at your jaw.
“You need to stop assuming so much,” he says softly, his voice a low murmur, the calm after the storm. “Not everything is what you think it is. And not everything is as complicated as you make it.”
You swallow, still processing the rush of emotions.
His gaze is steady, and even though his words are quiet, there’s an undeniable weight to them.
Finally, you settle for a simple, soft nod, even if you’re still caught in the confusion of it all.
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luvyuuma · 18 days ago
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Hiii, welcome to the &team writing world. So excited to read your stuff. Can i request fuma with the '' could you play with my hair? '' prompt. Thank youuu <3
AUTHOR'S NOTE: TYTY!! hope this is good <3 enjoy ml
touch-starved &team prompt list
synopsis: fuma would never admit that he loved his hair being touched. what happens when you stop doing it?
tw: FLUFFFF, like one suggestive joke, desperate!fuma, 0.7k words btw!!
pairing: fuma x gn!reader
FUMA + "could you play with my hair?"
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Fuma would never admit it. 
In fact, he’d categorically deny it when asked.
He loathed the idea that it was even a thought in someone’s head.
As a sub-leader, his role required a lot of hard work, gently telling off his members when they were fooling around when they were supposed to be concentrating. Poor Fuma would get headaches, especially in comeback season. 
What does that have to do with how much he hates what he hates?
Well, he’d go home, shower and cuddle with you on the couch. The side of his face would be on your shoulder, chest or lap. He’d rant about his day and how Taki or Nicholas were being silly or how he was struggling with a particular dance move. 
Then, he’d become pickled.
Your hand would weave through the strands of his hair and all those worries would fade away into nothing. His eyes would flutter close and a heavy sigh left his lips. It’d only last moments though.
He’d snap out of it.
The last thing Fuma wanted was to let go of himself. He couldn’t relax into your warm body. For goodness sake, he has a million things running in his mind. 
He had to focus on &Team’s comeback, he had to be a helpline for his members and he had to keep his body in check. He couldn’t be here, relaxing with you. Fuma didn’t deserve it, not yet.
Oftentimes, when you’d start massaging his scalp, he’d get right up because he had to lock in.
“What are you doing?” you laugh.
“I’m going to the gym.”
“At this hour?”
There wouldn’t be a reply.
That was that. He went to the gym.
You stopped touching his hair from then on.
Fuma noticed instantly but didn’t question it.
It went on for weeks. Weeks and weeks of torture he was not apt to handle. He didn’t think he’d want it as badly as he did. 
Every time you would skip his hair, he felt guilty and it started to feel like he was missing something.
He soon started to crave it.
Fuma needed the pads on your fingers on his scalp, combing through his hair and telling him, “I know, baby. I know.”
On a particularly stressful day, he comes home, retrieving his gym bag and leaving through the front door.
“Hi, babe! Where are you going
? You just got home.”
You were furrowing your eyebrows, genuinely confused as to what he was doing. It was almost midnight. He had to get up at five am. He should sleep.
“Gym
I’ll see you later. Good night.”
“Okay. Bye,” you answer dryly.
Walking away from the door, you head towards the bedroom. You knew he was going through a stressful time. You didn’t want to be the one to stress him out more, no matter how badly he wanted to succumb.
But as soon as he stepped out, his heart was caged in shackles. That look on your face
it was unbearable.
He’d realise how distant he’d been the last few weeks because he didn’t want to lose control.
Fuma turns around and reaches for you. For the first time in weeks, he yanks you towards his chest, looking at you. Really looking at you.
Your eyes widen, throat dry.
“Please
just touch it.”
Raising an eyebrow, you ask, teasingly, “You’re nasty, Fuma!”
Fuma shakes his head profusely, “No, no! Not that. My hair
could you play with my hair?”
You break into laughter, “I know what you meant! I just wanted to see how you’d react.”
“Haha.”
“What happened? I thought you hated it.”
“I
I love it,” Fuma replies with a blank expression. Admitting something like this, felt like admitting defeat. But he’d rather admit defeat to you than to anyone else. “So, please.”
He’s tense against you, not letting go of the hand he pulled you by. If anything, his hold tightens. As if his face wasn’t enough to indicate his desperation.
He searches your face for an affirmation, a ‘yes’.
“Come on,” you say, ushering him to the couch. 
He sets the gym bag down and lays in your lap. It feels like home, like he’s in the clouds and when you place a hand in his hair—he’s a goner.
Fuma memorised the pads of your fingers as they dig softly into his scalp. His muscles relax, his eyes closed. He’s almost falling asleep in your lap, in a different dimension entirely.
“You needed that, huh?”
“Mhm
” he sighs.
“Don’t push me away next time when I’m trying to help you,” you scold.
It doesn’t sound like scolding to him.
He laughs it off, “Never again, baby.”
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izsheum · 6 months ago
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Hello!!!
Can i listen to you yap about rodimus and swerve for hours please đŸ„șđŸ„șđŸ„șđŸ„ș
WHEN I TOLD YOU I JUMPED FOR JOY!!!
ugh these guys have been in my brain for a bit now
i swear
“it’d be cool if i took my favs and made them kiss haha that’d be so silly” and then Boom. I kept thinking.
have some art of them i am in the trenches methinks
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when i tell you they are PEAK yapper + louder yapper

like i genuinely believe that’s how it can start. two losers who love to hear themselves talk? it should be a recipe for disaster.
However.
it’s not like swerve doesn’t know when it’s not his turn to talk. he’s got a big mouth, and criminal levels of audacity, but he has manners. and that means that whenever rodimus goes on and on about whatever bullshit he had to deal with during the day, he listens.
and, good lord, rodimus can definitely talk.
he does so with swerve probably after having a few because i mean
that’s how this starts, surely. a bottle of top-shelf and a purely functional arrangement.
(hundreds of words of sleep-deprivation-induced writing under the cut. i am so sorry. completely sfw btw just barely on the edge of suggestive.)
predictably, swerve’s constant chatter is bearable after rodimus gets in a few drinks. and in the beginning of Whatever The Hell They Got Going On starts with the two of them building a routine.
swerve supplies the shots of liquid stress relief and a listening ear (audio processor? cybertronian anatomy is lost on me), and rodimus provides what can only be described as a semi-coherent stream of complaints and whines about his day. and he has a lot to gripe about—he’s suffering from an acute case of ‘doomed by the narrative’, primus help him.
and swerve, for the most part, is quite a good active listener. not that rodimus would ever admit that out loud (for now) because swerve wouldn’t be able to keep that kinda praise to himself. i mean, the guy raved for months after getting his own rodimus star
yeah, no, not happening. rodimus’ appreciation will remain unspoken, thank you very much.
he gets his sentiment of ‘thank you for listening to my bullshit, you’re such a good friend’ out there by continuing to show up. same time, every day, like clockwork. he’s there in the bar, long laundry list of things he’s going to cry like a baby about, and swerve is at the ready with the fainting couch. their little ‘whine and cheese hour’ (as swerve calls it. rodimus will adamantly deny that he likes the name. it’s not clever. it’s not! it’s apparently a human thing, anyways. little thief.) is probably the only thing he’s ever on-time for at this rate.
having someone listen politely to your woes is. nice! having someone gently try and guide you into solutions to said problems is
manageable, i suppose.
having someone who gasps dramatically and exclaims “i can’t believe you had to deal with that—you’re so much stronger than me for putting up with such scrap” is euphoric.
because since getting the weight of the universe thrust on his shoulders again and again. since he had it ground into him every single day that he needs to be this mature, wise, thoughtful leader who doesn’t react to problems with complaints, but rather calm understanding followed by benevolent resolution
rodimus has completely, truly missed just being able to talk shit.
and, oh, does swerve just love that song and dance.
this isn’t therapy, and neither of them are going to pretend it is, though the constant flow of drinks does manage to feel like something akin to self-medication after a while. their lives are messy, god damn it, and they’re going to cope with it messily!
and cope they do. and they talk. a lot. and—for some reason—it helps. turns out, when you get to vent all your frustrations towards someone who knows how to match your energy exactly, you feel seen. not as this esteemed figure who needs to watch what he says and make sure he keeps up the display of picture-perfect-motivational-cat-poster-leader twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five
but as just. a guy. a guy with a lot on his shoulders and a lot more on his mind. turns out, talking with swerve ends up helping rodimus feel normal.
go figure.
and somewhere between the start of their little unofficial gossip sessions and the end of another bottle of the good engex, something bubbles up that wasn’t there before. and it isn’t the carbonation in the cocktail.
feelings. affectionate ones. rodimus goes to recharge afterwards all giddy, like some newly forged spark still buzzing with boundless energy, and honestly? he feels like he might be going crazy. might need some actual fucking therapy, because ho-ly shit he is not about to entertain this. not at all.
because, let’s be real here, it’s swerve we’re talking about. swerve. s-w-e-r-v-e. the ‘shut your damn mouth’ guy? he used to annoy the living hell out of rodimus when he first came aboard, and nowadays rodimus finds himself excited at the thought of going to talk to him again.
war changes people
and, okay, the war is. over, technically. but still. maybe he hit his head a little too hard during a mission. yeah! yeah, that’s it. little concussion knocked a couple things loose in his processor. that’s why he’s suddenly wanting to share more than just his woes with the little ‘bot. that’s why he starts asking swerve about himself, why he starts listening back. chimes in every so often with “huh, i never knew that” or “you should show that to me some time” when swerve goes on his little tirades about foreign media.
why rodimus can’t help but wonder how that big mouth would feel against—
phew! yeah, definitely brain damage. because the alternative is that rodimus has started feeling terrible, awful, affectionate things for swerve. and that just won’t do. nope!
but ohhhhhh god, does that do nothing to stop his imagination. because really. how would swerve fare if he used that mouth for something else—
thankfully for rodimus, swerve is an avid fan of imagining things that he can never have. dreaming like the hopeless mech he is about a future that only someone as deeply delusional and para-social as himself could think up.
in his swerve-y fantasy, the talks start to mean something. rodimus goes from coworker to situational friend to
something. something that he can’t place his finger on. but it’s something that he doesn’t believe he can have. because while rodimus laughs at his jokes
he’s also laughing drunk. and swerve is desperate to let people close, sure. he likes people, he wants friends, he loves connection. but he’s not stupid. a bit air-headed? sure. but not dumb. not by a long shot. he has a mental list of things that he can try to have (friendship, a successful business, endless adventures with said friends that he plans to get more of, he swears), and things that are off-limits.
you can guess which box rodimus starts to fall into.
doesn’t mean he can’t
y’know. think about him. a lot. find excuses to comm him about this or that, subtly hint that he misses him
uh, he meant their talks! offer him free drinks just to see the way his face lights up. deny the suspicion of special treatment by reminding rodimus that he’s the captain! c’mon! of course he deserves a little leeway!
and ignore the fact that the reassurance is more for himself.
swerve is so good at believing that this something he imagines with rodimus is so, so far out of reach that he thinks it’s a joke when rodimus propositions him for the first time.
and, c’mon, he’s gotta be having auditory hallucinations. because there’s no fucking way in the world—in the galaxy, or in the whole universes that he’s visited, for that matter—that (co-) captain fucking rodimus prime-not-prime-status-still-pending-thanks-a-lot-matrix-of-lameship asked to borrow him for the evening. he nearly drops the glass in his hand.
because that’s the only way rodimus can bring himself to phrase it when he finally fucking gets through all five-billion stages of grief over this stupid crush. god. he was so pathetic. the worst part was that he didn’t even care anymore.
“yo! are you working tonight? can i borrow you for the rest of it? we can watch that movie you were talking about earlier this week, or whatever.”
or whatever. rodimus would’ve just tossed himself out the nearest airlock if he wasn’t glued to his recharged slab (not literally, this time) rocking back and forth like an asylum patient. he could hear the cries now—nurse! nurse! he’s out again!
successful attempts at being casual: zero. days since last urge to ram his head into the wall: also zero.
swerve’s response comes in quickly just before rodimus contemplates jumping ship and taking a page outta megatron’s book and starting a new life in another universe. and if rodimus wasn’t busy having a fucking panic attack, he’d’ve noticed the undercurrent of excitement in swerve’s voice when he strains out those six little words.
“sure thing! your place or mine?”
it ends up being at rodimus’. more space meant more wall for the projection of ‘Alien’.
not that they ended up paying much attention to the movie by the time the fledgling xenomorph got loose.
and liiiisten. listen. they didn’t plan on it going that way, alright? major props to ridley scott—the two of them were intensely invested in the film for a good long while. but, as per usual, swerve brought drinks to help ease the tension that threatened to smother them as soon as he entered rodimus’ quarters.
he would’ve pat himself on the back, too, if he wasn’t so consumed by the way the light of the projection reflected off of rodimus’ frame. and rodimus would’ve thanked him (and i mean, like, actually thank him, no reluctance left in him whatsoever) if he wasn’t so focused on the warmth of swerve next to him.
the elephant in the room was slaughtered and left for dead in the same way as the crew of the nostromo as soon as they locked eyes.
and rodimus ended up being right.
swerve’s mouth could do a lot more than just talk.
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