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#big army mama
domibomz · 8 months
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BIG CHEETO PUFF little cocopuff his pickup line was 'hi im god <:3c'
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thearmyxo · 1 month
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🪖 | @𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨
𝕏 : @𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨 | 𝐈𝐆 : @𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨
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bts-trans · 2 years
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221130 Big Hit’s Tweet
4개의 대상을 석권한 아티스트에게 주어지는 "MAMA 플래티넘" 상을 수상하게 되어 너무나 감사드리고 영광입니다. You and I, best moment is yet to come.  #BTS #방탄소년단 #BTSARMY #우리아미상받았네
Thank you so much and it's such an honour to be receiving the "MAMA Platinum" award, which is given to artists who have won 4 Daesangs*. You and I, best moment is yet to come.  #BTS #BTSARMY #OurARMYWonAnAward
(T/N: *Award given to artists who have won all 4 MAMA Daesangs: Artist Of The Year, Song Of The Year, Album Of The Year, and Worldwide Icon Of The Year, which BTS has achieved for 3 consecutive years from 2019-2021.)
Trans cr; Annie @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS
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fjtrickster-blog · 9 months
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You know. As much as I like the Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Movie the more I realize how much of a wild attempt it was to like bring in people. Because like 90% of what made the Rise series UNIQUE is like stripped from the movie.
Leo is the leader of the team.
Raph is mad and fighting with Leo constantly.
We have a masculine Casey Jones who looks similar to the original Casey Jones hokey mask and everything
Master Splinter is serious and not acting like a man going through a midlife crisis.
April is acting like an investigative journalist and not like someone who pulled off the Seven Deadly Viper's move with master Splinter that one time.
Come to think of it Master Splinter didn't really use any of his normal flaming kick moves I don't think
No yokai. AT ALL.
Krang are the bad guys.
Shredder like armor.
Majority of the Movie turtles have no magic powers.
The whole situation has a very serious tone from start to finish. No real joking aside from Leo who is bringing all the Rise series energy into a movie that is trying to be frank NOT to be the rise series.
Thinking of that I can't help but wonder. Why does this feel like the movie is like it's trying to appeal to people who hated how unique and different the series was from the original turtles?
I mean why couldn't we instead get a movie that had Draxum? Or Mayhem? Or Big Mama invovled? Did anyone even yell "HOT SOUP"?! I don't think they did. Why was Splinter not using any of his Lou Jistu moves on the Krang?! None of this makes sense unless I realize the movie was deliberately trying to hide the parts that non Rise series people would't recognize or understand.
That kinda makes me mad.
Like I've heard people say Leo was being out of character for the rise movie but. I mean. I think Raph was being more out of character. Since when does he attack his brothers with powers? He also struck me as way too orgnaized when I mean this was the man who in the original series freaked out when being left alone for 5 minutes and screwed up a mission to take a picture of a pigeon with a pizza. ALSO WHERE WERE HIS COOL COPY POWERS?! Y'know Leo Mikey and Donnie got to keep their mystic upgrade powers but Raph's shadow clones are MIA when they would have been SO USEFUL in the fight to get the key. In fact even before they all lost their powers it felt like that fight they were holding back. Leo should have been able to just portal the key right into his hand. He's done that stuff before.
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theweaselandthekilt · 5 months
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Too much to get into at 2 am....but HOLY CRAP... where has this been all my life??!! I can't wait 🤩🤩🤩
OMG THE ZINGERS BOOOBBBYYYY🤣🤣🤣🤣 just turn him loose and LET HIM GO!!! Sooo FREAKING FUNNY 🤣💯🤣
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sugugasm · 2 months
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. ༉‧₊ 𝐀 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄
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✧ synopsis : after almost a decade of a healthy marriage, four kids, and a stressful bakery opening, you and toji have learned to take your alone time very seriously.
✧ tags : firefighter! toji + baker! reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, blk fem reader ofc, mentions of alcohol, public sex ?? in the car, mentions of vaginal penetration, cowgirl, pet names like bby, love, pretty, mama bc yall already know etc, excuse any errors. i wrote this in a few different povs at first so — 𝟓.𝟖𝐊 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭
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𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 smiles as he pulls into his driveway, the familiar cacophony of squeals and thuds greeting him before he’d even opened the door - the kiddos must’ve been riding the after dinner sugar high. cheerfully shaking his head, he braced himself for the chaos and noise that awaited inside your now shared, cozy little place the two of you have grown to call home.
it’d been nearly six years since that fateful summer when you’d quite literally swept into his life like a swirl of sunshine and baked goods. six years of dizzying ups and downs, laughter and tears, the most intense love he’d ever known to face. sometimes it still didn’t feel real, even now - this life you’d built from the spark of simple flirting over sweets n’ crème brulee.
so much had happened in that span of adventures : you, graduating at the top of your culinary class, your desserts and pastries that you’d stressed so hard about being the toast of the competition circuit. toji retiring as lieutenant of the fire department after over a decade of service, not daring to miss out on any more milestones as the two of you started your family. not to mention the whirlwind of wedding plans, and then the magical day itself where you vowed forever to each other in front of family and friends.
then the true blessings had come along, one right after the other - megumi, who was still adjusting to the new family dynamic of it all, but was yet so proud of his father. little rascally rose, a firecracker just like her mama with the same bright eyes and full curls. goofy, tender-hearted kenji who practically worshipped his big brother and sister, wanting nothing more than to mimic their every move and be just like his papa. and finally malachai, the happy surprise baby who seemed to have inherited the best of both his parents’ feisty personalities.
toji wouldn’t trade this beautiful chaos for anything in the world. but he’d be lying if he said the constant juggling act of family life wasn’t difficult - for the both of you. it was rare for you guys to get a real moment alone together, just the two of you. your intimacy had cooled down amidst all the lovely distractions, as had the simple art of conversation beyond trading information about grocery lists and pediatrician appointments.
date nights had become a long forgotten luxury, almost seemingly impossible to coordinate when your trusted babysitters were your siblings with families of their own. but tonight, uncle satoru had stepped up and volunteered his services, giving toji and you a well overdue opportunity to reconnect.
toji unbuckles his seatbelt and exited the truck, tamping down a flutter of nerves. what if the easy rhythm and sizzling chemistry you’d once shared was gone for good? a victim of sleep deprivation and chicken nugget overdoses? what if it was too late to rekindle that spark?
pushing open the front door, he was immediately swamped by a tiny army of squirming, chattering bodies. “papa, papa, papa!” rose seized his hand and tugged insistently. “you gotta’ see the cool fort we built! kenji made it super big this time!”
“we’ll show ya, dad!” kenji crowed, already streaking towards the living room, malachai hot on his heels with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“hold up there, you lil’ tornados,” toji called in vain, being unceremoniously dragged by his giggling daughter into the chaos. every available pillow, cushion, and blanket had been appropriated to create an elaborate tent city surrounded by toys and stuffed animals . . and gojo sat smack in the middle of it all, long legs splayed out as he played some kind of intricate make believe game with the two boys.
“baby, you’re home!” you swept in from the kitchen, wisps of hair escaping your messy bun and face flushed from exertion. you were wearing a cute pink sundress that struck a nostalgic chord in toji’s memory - you’ve had it for years, one of his favorite things to slowly peel off of your shoulders after a night out to be exact. “thank goodness. i was startin’ to think i’d have to call backup.”
you stand on your tippy toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, and just like that, his weariness evaporated as if by magic. your familiar floral scent, your soft warmth, the kids’ laughter surrounding him - this moment of serenipity in the midst of routinely chaos bringing a lump to his throat.
“not a chance,” he rumbled, sliding an arm around your waist. “i wouldn’t miss this for the world.” downy goosebumps erupted down your arms at his words, flustering deeply. awe, his voice still got you going after all this time. good to know. very good to know. “y’all holdin’ down the fort?”
“y’know how it is,” you reply with a gentle squeeze of his hand, watching in fond exasperation as rose ordered poor gojo to lie down so kenji could perform his ‘very important surgery.’ “satoru took his role a lil’ too seriously this time and got lost in their games.”
you stood together watching for a few moments, the kids pausing just long enough to acknowledge toji’s presence again before diving back into their shenanigans. it was all so beautifully vibrant and alive, the little people you created and who brought such joy, such richness and meaning to your lives. but still . . . toji felt the undeniable tug of wanting you all to himself. just for a few hours at least. he wanted to bask in your undivided attention. to remember what it felt like to not share you with anyone else.
you must have picked up on his restlessness, your eyelids drifting shut as he stroked the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “soon as we get back, m’ cravin’ some peace n’ quiet. maybe a hot soak in the tub after all this madness.” your tone was light and casual, but the smoldering undertone was unmistakable.
toji found himself swallowing reflexively as his skin prickled with awakening interest. “is that a promise, mama?” he murmured gruffly, not even trying to hide the roughness in his voice.
you peeked up at him through long lashes, a smile curving on your lips. “mm . . . you should know this by now. m’ a girl who keeps her promises.” burying any further suggestive replies, you cleared your throat and turned to gojo, who’d been buried under a pile of stuffed teddy bears. “alright babies, mama n’ daddy gotta’ go for a bit. gumi’s at a friend’s place, and there’s dinner in the fridge if you guys get hungry — so pretty please be good for your uncle gojo, y’hear?”
a chorus of whines follow after your words, but the kids were quickly distracted again by the siren song of more roughhousing. rose blew toji an exaggerated kiss while kenji and malachai paid both of you absolutely no mind whatsoever, already wrestling in a tangle of small limbs. gojo simply shot you a weary thumbs up from beneath his plush prison, glasses askew and hair wild as toji fought the urge to chuckle, “have fun you two. keep me posted, and please for the love of god - quit knockin’ her up, toji. i’m being attacked by three little rascals and it’s just absolutely absurd,” he jokes.
“i don’t make promises i can’t keep, satoru.”
you fished your purse and sweater from the hall closet while toji hovered close, drinking in every detail of you. suddenly he was struck by the profound urge to pull you in close and just breathe nothing but you, to lose himself in the familiar softness and strength of your embrace. but he restrained himself with an effort. all too soon they’d be able to indulge that craving for closeness, he reminded himself as you linked your fingers through his.
with a final wave to the kids and fond shake of his head at gojo’s predicament, toji guided you to the car. the simple act of opening your door and helping you in was enough to set his pulse racing, anticipation crackling in the air as your fingers tangled briefly together. electric from even the most innocent of contact.
by the time he’d slid behind the wheel, he felt ten years younger, energized by the promise of this evening alone with the woman he loved. as toji pulled out of the driveway, you were already reaching for the radio to cue up one of your old playlists, humming along contentedly as warm twilight spilled through the windows. toji cuts you an affectionate glance and reaches over to squeeze your knee - a brief, cherished moment before the magic began.
he couldn’t wait to see where it all would lead.
“so where we headed, hot stuff?” you asked, eyes sparkling with mischief as she toyed with the ends of her hair. “hopefully somewhere without a soft play area and a kids meal if y’know what i mean.”
toji snorted, distracted for a second by the way the skirt of her sundress rode up her thighs as she shifted in the passenger seat. “nah, no funzones tonight. but i can think of a few things i’d like to play with though.”
his suggestive drawl was rewarded with a scandalized laugh and playful swat to his shoulder. “you’re so gross, babe.” your eyes twinkle with amusement before flickering to the darkening sky outside. “seriously though . . . surprise me? i wanna’ be wooed. s’ been too long since you’ve had the chance to take me out. we used to do it all the time.”
kissing away the pout on your lips and squeezing your knee again, toji grinned crookedly. “i know, baby. tonight will be one to remember - i swear.”
true to his word, he bypassed all the usual dining spots they frequented as a family, instead guiding you to a cozy trattoria tucked away on a quiet cobblestone street you didn’t even know existed. he pulled up in front and turned to gauge your reaction, smile widening at the look of surprise and delight on your lovely face.
“bambolino’s?” you exclaimed, craning your neck to peer through the warmly lit windows. “toji, this place is famous! i swear geto raves about their stuffed shells every time he comes over . . like they’re life changing or something!”
“nothin’s better than your cookin’ so we’ll see. m’ a tough crowd to please.” chuckling, he cut the engine and climbed out to open your door, and you hopped out with a charming little shimmy of your hips, curls bouncing around your shoulders now. toji quite literally had to bite back a groan as images of sweeping you up onto the hood and hiking that dress up around your waist flooded his mind unbidden.
jesus, dude. maybe he felt a little too hot n’ bothered. this was a night to reconnect emotionally, not just physically. ‘keep it together, man,’ he mumbles to himself.
threading your arm through his, you allowed him to lead you to the heavy oak door. “well well, aren’t you just the sweetest.”
toji leaned over to murmur in her ear, voice low and intimate. “like i said . . . a night to remember. and m’ just gettin’ started, lovely.” he felt you shiver and had to quickly resist the urge to press an open mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot behind you ear — the spot he knew drove you crazy. but he reined himself in, offering you his arm instead. you slanted him an arch look from beneath your lashes as you took his elbow, well aware of the charged energy in the room. “you’re such smooth talker,” you teased. “but m’ callin’ you out - you gotta’ keep deliverin’ now.”
the inside of the restaurant was every bit as quaint and charming as the exterior, all warm golden lighting and rustic decor like something plucked from a cozy little italian village. your table of choice nestled in a babylon themed area, made for discreet intimacy. along with linen napkins and sparkling wine already waiting along with a single garden rose in a low vase.
as toji held out your chair for you, you leaned up to brush a soft kiss to his cheek. “this lovely, t,” you murmured, fingers trailing over the pristine white tablecloth. “really, baby . . . jus’ lovely.”
he hummed, momentarily distracted by the alluring fragrance of your signature perfume mixed with the lingering scent of baked goodies in your hair from a hectic day’s work at the bakery. “you deserve it,” he rumbled once he’d found his voice again. “. . . i know how crazy swamped you been with the kids and workin’ on side projects for the shop. tonight is strictly about you, mama. no responsibilities, no worries. just you n’ me enjoyin’ each other. like we used to do.”
your smile softened at the corners as you regarded him with open adoration. “when did all your charm come back?” you teased gently, though . . that tone was genuine. “feels like we haven’t had a moment alone in ages. hard to remember the last time you wooed me like this.”
“tonight’s special. couldn’t let another moment go by without remindin’ you exactly why you chose to put up with me.”
your expression turned impish once more. “coulda’ fooled me - i seem to recall it was you who was pushin’ lil’ ol’ me away, no?”
he formed his features into his best look of faux offense, tone full of lofty dignity. “can a man not get nervous anymore? you were stunning i was terrified — as megumi would say, your aura was just . . .” beneath the table, you could start to feel him sliding his foot forward to glide his ankle over yours, naughtiness giving him away even before your muffled squeak of surprise. toji just grinned that stupid grin at you innocently, as though not at all aware of the toe he was trailing up the delicate skin of your inner calf, “out of this world, sweetheart.”
you had to clear your throat before replying, voice husky with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “oh shut up. jus’ admit you loved me before you even knew it yet.” but despite the humor, you lashes had lowered invitingly as you let your calves part further, granting him unrestricted access.
his gaze snagged on the glimpse of your skin revealed as his foot inched higher and higher to skim the sensitive crease behind your knee. already, his blood was pounding with renewed interest, awakened by the heady combination of your pheromones and just being within your space. hmph. it was like suddenly the intimate, flickering candles and red wine he'd scoffed at earlier as a cheesy cliche seemed perfectly fitting, matching the frisson of sexual heat enkindling within him.
you spent the first part of dinner treading familiar ground - teasing n’ flirting, punctuated by conversations and easy silences that felt almost novel in your peacefulness these days. there was an ease to it, a bond between you both that couldn’t be so easily broken by the stress of soccer practices, ballet recitals or piles of laundry.
an intimacy beyond the aspects of physical that toji clung to . . . even as his vixen urges stirred elsewhere.
once appetizers had been polished off and the main courses brought out, toji leaned back in his chair and leveled you with a heavy lidded stare. slowly, he scooped up his cloth napkin and tossed it onto the table as though throwing down a gauntlet. your eyebrows rose in polite question even as a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips.
“y’know . .” toji began, voice pitched low and rough like buttered rum. “you look absolutely stunning tonight, yn. i couldn’t be more proud of the woman you are n’ i jus’ uh . .” he pauses for a moment. wow, even after six years you still found a way to steal the words right out of his mouth, “i jus’ love you — you’re the mother of my children, my heart, my everyth - ”
your breath caught audibly, lashes fluttering as you struggled not to squirm under the potent weight of his stare. still, you rallied with a sassy arch of one brow. “if we weren’t already married, i’d say you were attempting at proposing to me right now, toji.”
“aye, m’ tryin’ t’be sentimental here, lady,” toji chuckled, the sound impossibly intimate amidst the hushed ambiance of the cozy trattoria. reaching across the table, he traced a feather-light path along your forearm with the very tips of his fingers, feeling the fine hairs there rise in gooseflesh, “y’know i’d marry you a thousand times over.”
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the sleek black car purred through the dim streets, a monotonous swish of the windshield wipers being the only sound breaking the heavy silence within. in the passenger seat, you gazed out the rain streaked window, city lights smearing across your face in streaks of red and gold and neon blue. the night had been magical - champagne and oysters at bambolino’s, after that there was slow dancing cheek to cheek to smoky jazz at the club down the street, and last but not least — chocolate lava cake shared and savored at the tiny candle lit dessert boutique. all the romance and luxury toji knew his beautiful wife deserved.
but now, cocooned together in the warm confines of the car, the mood had shifted into something . . . more carnal. not sure how it couldn’t have become carnal with toji’s eyes constantly flicking away from the road to steal glimpses of you. in the dim glow of the dash, he drank in the way your clingy pink dress embraced every mouthwatering curve you had, the deep v neckline offering a tantalizing view of your collarbones. and oh, the silky chestnut curls tumbled over your bare shoulders, toji’s fingers itched to suken into them, to pull her close and breathe in the familiar sweet vanilla of her shampoo as he cruised.
he inhaled subtly, your delicate floral perfume underlaid with the warm, sleep-rumpled scent of your skin filling his head with sense memories. lazy sunlit mornings tangled in egyptian cotton sheets, your hair spilled across the pillow. sweaty afternoons grappling on the living room rug like lovestruck college kids. languid twilight baths with your slippery curves pressed back against his chest. he shifted in his seat as his blood began to simmer.
as if she could read his increasingly lurid thoughts, yn turned to meet his gaze. in the shadows, her eyes glittered like black diamonds, dark and fathomless, brimming with wicked promises. slowly, deliberately, she dragged her pink tongue across her bottom lip, leaving the glossed flesh glistening temptingly. toji swallowed hard.
suddenly, the air of the car felt suffocating, the rain misted air unbearably thick and hot. toji cranked the ac, but it did little to cool his overheated skin. he stared deadahead at the surging blades, trying to ignore the rising pressure in his groin.
without a word, you lifted a hand from your lap and slid it across the center console. toji sucked in a sharp breath as your palm skated up his thigh to rest just south of dangerous territory. even through the crisp fabric of his tailored slacks, her touch burned like a brand. as your nimble fingers began to trace idle whorls and spirals, you notice toji’s hands flex around the steering wheel.
“you better get us home safe, mr. we have kids to feed,” you purred, your dulcet voice flooding the charged air between them. “wouldn’t wanna’ have an accident now, would we?” your tone was pure filthy innuendo.
toji risked a glance sideways and instantly regretted it. you looked like a temptation, the old school femme fatale, all dangerous curves and scarlet lips and come-hither eyes. he could practically hear the harps and horns of the kill bill sirens blaring in his brain as he dragged his gaze forward again, locking it on the taillights winking mockingly through the rain smeared glass.
it would be so easy to pull the car over, to say fuck it to propriety and yank you into his lap. to ruck that sinful dress up around your waist and lose himself in your pussy until the windows were disgustingly fogged. so easy to let the inferno building in his veins consume you both right there in the goddamn car.
but toji prided himself on his discipline, his ironclad restraint. you couldn’t be a firefighter without grit, without the ability to stay focused and clear headed no matter what temptations beckoned. he knew that all too well. so he kept his ass planted firmly in the leather seat, even as his body screamed for more of his wife’s wicked touch.
even if his cock throbbed persistently against his fly, inflamed and aching.
you, however, seemed to have no such compunctions about maintaining composure. heedless of toji’s grip on the wheel, you unbuckled your seatbelt and twisted in your seat to face him. in a move that nearly short circuited his brain, you drew one endless leg up onto the seat, making the hem of your dress ride up to reveal the lacy edge of a sheer white thigh high.
toji’s mouth went dust dry. “what’re you doin’?”
“gettin’ comfortable,” you replied airly, but the devilish quirk of your painted lips gave away the game. slowly, you trailed a fingertip along the inside of your thigh, the back of your hand just barely grazing the tent in toji’s slacks as you did so — making him hiss out a breath between his teeth.
“quit playin’ wit’ me, yeah?”
you hummed, unconcerned, and continued her leisurely exploration, tracing idle patterns on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. “i’d rather you play with somethin’ else — i mean, you said it yourself.”
toji’s foot pressed down on the accelerator as if by it’s own volition, the car surging forward through the fuzzy soft darkness. toji's heart beat in time, a primal drum urging him to get the fuck home, where he could strip his vixen of a wife bare and remind you where teasin’ got you.
remind you how good he could make you burn.
your throaty chuckle broke him from his reverie. he glanced over to see you still caressing your own thighs, a wry twist to your lips. “you’re thinkin’ about fuckin’ me, aren’t you?” you mused casually, as if remarking on the weather. “how bad you wanna’ pull this car over, bend me over the hood n’ fuck me like i know you want to.”
liquid heat rolled down toji’s spine to pool in his groin, his cock jerking ravenously in the confines of his straining zipper. “goddammit,” he bit out, knuckles gone bloodless on the steering wheel.
you bit your lip on a smirk, shaky satisfaction in your exhale. “c’mon, daddy,” you coaxed, voice husky and sex-soaked. “i can feel you thinkin’ about it . . . those big hands spreading me open jus’ f’you?”
toji couldn't choke back his groan, pressure building to a rolling boil in his veins. his whole world narrowed down to the flex of his thighs, the strain of keeping the car on the road, and the siren song of your body, your scent, your dirty fuckin’ mouth.
“i’ve been so wet all night, t . .” you continued blithely, as if remarking on the weather. “since the second you walked in from work.” you reached over to smooth a proprietary hand along his thigh, thumb still skating dangerously close to his crotch. “i jus’ wanted to drop to my knees and worship you with my mouth right then n’ there.”
toji nearly swallowed his tongue, vivid images of your plush lips stretching around his cock flooding his brain. “c’mon, baby . .”
“ — but i was such a good girl,” you singsonged. “i was patient. i kept my hands to myself through dinner, even though all i could think about was how good you’d feel inside me.” your fingers creep higher to graze his zipper, “how deep i could take this big dick in my pretty little cunt.”
“don’t make me stop this car n’ —“
“pull over,” you murmured, voice molten and dark with promise. “anywhere. i don’t give a fuck - jus’ fuck me, toji. please . . s’ been too fuckin’ long.”
your words shot through him like an electric charge, heat searing down his spine to pool gravid and pulsing in his groin. “shit’,” he bit out, dizzy, nearly delirious with the force of his want. “ well, i know better than to argue with you. go ahead n’ tell me where, baby.”
“over there,” you pointed through the smeared windshield at an empty parking lot on the right, a black gulf set back from the glistening street. “that lot. pull in.” nearly shaking with the effort of holding himself in check, toji wrenched the wheel to the right, tires juddering over wet asphalt as he whipped into the vacant lot. the moment he threw the car into park, you were scrambling into his lap, sinuous as a snake, that tight dress rucking up around your hips completely now.
toji groaned gutturally as the heat of you settled over him, the damp crotch of your panties grinding right against his aching cock. you were like a furnace through the thin satin, searing him, branding him. he bucked helplessly under the pressure, too far gone for finesse.
“shit,” panted against the shell of his ear, nipping at the sensitive skin. your little hands scrabbling at his belt, desperate, graceless. “wan’ you s’bad. been drippin’ — it hurts, daddy . .”
toji made a wounded sound as you finally freed his straining erection, wrapping slim fingers around the thick root and pumping once, slowly. you let out a broken moan at the heavy heat of him pulsing in your grip, the way he jerked and kicked against the palm, already leaking from the flushed tip.
“look at you,” you purred, running a thumb through the slippery bead of precum. you brought the digit to your mouth, sucking it clean with a low hum that vibrated straight through him. “mm, so fuckin’ hard f’me.” toji’s hands flew to your hips, gripping bruisingly tight, a drowning man clutching a lifeline. the flimsy lace of your panties was no barrier - he ripped them aside, baring the slick folds of your cunt to the humid air. need pounded behind his eyes, turned his blood to quicksilver, his bones to molten steel.
“i missed you, mama,” he rasped, throat tight, voice scraped raw. “missed you so much.” his calloused hands roam your tummy, waist, and then chest — stopping when his palms grope the full plumpness of your titties, “awe baby . . they’re so heavy. have they gotten bigger?” the casual rubbing is soon interrupted when he pulls them out from their comfortable position in your sundress, your breasts flopping out in the prettiest way.
nipples hard n’ ready to just be absolutely tended to.
“i think so,” you reply, running your hands up and down his chest, “ever since i had rose . . they’ve gotten more n’ more swollen.” it was true. that girl had been your most painful birth ever — and keep in mind, this was coming from a mother of four. your back ached, you felt uncomfortable everywhere, and your tits well . . . let’s just say it felt like carrying around bags of sand attached to your sore chest.
but you’d do it again. anything for your sweet baby girl.
“do they hurt?”
“a little bit,” and on your word, toji leans forward, taking one of your exposed nipples into his mouth as he teased the other with his fingers. you could only moan as he sucked softly, almost as if he were trying to pry somethin’ out of em’, “aah — mmph! s’ sensitive, daddy . . so sensitive.”
with a needy cry, you wasted to time to pull your panties to the side and tap the tip of him against your slit, “put it in, t . . please,” you don’t even wait for his approval to notch the broad head of his cock against your opening as he worked. he didn’t mind - not one bit. if anything, he was more eager than you. you then wrap around him, gently sinking down, sheathing him in tight, and clinging on. his head cracked back against the headrest after letting go of your nipple with a pop! - fireworks exploding behind his eyes as your silky walls enveloped him, gripped him, fluttered sweetly around his aching length like you’d been waiting for his return.
“oh my god,” you whimpered, lip caught harshly between your teeth. you looked nearly pained, brow pinched, lashes fluttering as you fought to adjust to the invasion. after all, it’s been a while. “i missed you stretchin’ me out, daddy . . missed y’re dick s-so much.”
toji panted shallowly through his nose, every tendon in his body pulled bowstring tight as he fought the feral urge to surge up into you, to seize and take and claim. his fingers flexed convulsively on your hips, blunt nails biting into the plump flesh of your ass.
“i know, i know. i feel you mama. m’ so sorry, daddy’s been neglectin’ this pussy, huh? keep makin’ yourself f-feel good,” he encouraged gutturally, thumbs sweeping over the delicate skin of her inner thighs, smearing her arousal into the creases. “mm, tryin’ to take it all i see . . always so eager to make me proud, ain’t ya’?”
with a keening mewl as a reply, you began to move, rocking shallowly, finding a rhythm. your hands braced on his broad shoulders, using the leverage to grind down, to swivel your hips in maddening figure eights. pleasure sparkled up toji’s spine, gathered in his heavy balls, pulling them up tight and throbbing against his body.
“s-shit, yeah,” he hissed, head swimming, drowning in sensation. “that pussy’s fuckin’ good, yn — always so fuckin’ good. ride that dick jus’ like that.”
you made a desperate sound, head lolling on your neck, lush mouth falling open. each drag of your warm walls had his nerve endings sparking, a livewire of ecstasy. he could feel every clench, every ripple of your ass around him, could feel you growing wetter, slicker, easing the way for faster, harder thrusts.
soon enough you were bouncing feverishly in his lap, shameless, transported. your nails bit into his shoulders through his shirt as you slammed yourself down, the wet smack of sticky flesh and her breathless cries fogging the windows. each downstroke punched the breath from his lungs, until he was dizzy with it, drunk on the feel of you, the sweat and sex musk and some dark energy radiating off of you.
“c’mon,” he growled, palming your ass, spreading you open lewdly so he could watch himself disappear into your gleaming folds, over n’ over, creamy n’ noisy. “gonna’ nut on this dick, hm? gonna’ soak daddy with this greedy lil’ cunt? my greedy fuckin’ cunt — all mine, isn’t it? say that shit.”
“y-yess, s’ all yours, d-daddy,” you panted, back arching sharply as his pelvis pressed just right against your swollen clit. that and the feeling of his hardened head nuzzling against your gummy cervix was just enough to — “m’ close . . m’ so close, baby!” he could feel you starting to tighten, starting to talk and pulse around his hammering cock. with a choked off curse, he gripped the globes of your ass and slammed you down, grinding his hips in deep, filthy circles that had your voice breaking on a sob.
“cum on that dick,” he commanded, holding her steady even as she thrashed and writhed, impaled to the root on his steel-hard length. “give it to daddy — m-make a mess on me, nasty fuckin’ slut.”
he punctuated the words with one brutal thrust, and you had no choice but to cum with a ragged wail, clenching down on him so tight he lost his vision. your cunt rippled and gushed, rhythmic waves gracefully and sloppily milking his pulsing cock as ecstasy whited out behind your eyes.
“fuck, fuck, baby, i can’t — m’ bout to cum, m’ cummin’ - aw fuck!” he choked out, and then his own orgasm was crashing through him, a tidal wave of rapture searing through his veins. he spurted long and hard, painting your trembling walls with scorching ropes of cum that had you shuddering through the aftershocks.
for long moments they stayed locked together, panting into the thick air, pulses gradually slowing. finally you shifted with a shuddery exhale, and toji groaned low in his chest as he slipped free of you in a hot gush. she collapsed bonelessly against his chest, sweat cooling on your skin, looking thoroughly debauched.
toji caught your face between his palms, tipped it up to meet her blissed-out gaze. “holy fuck i love you,” he rasped, thumbs sweeping over your tear stained cheeks, “so fuckin’ much, man - fuck.”
“me too . . l-love you too, babe.” you finished, voice a satisfied husk. a slow grin spread over your face, catlike and smug. “i can’t believe you fucked me in a parking lot.”
“you didn’t give me much choice,” he growled playfully, nipping at your jaw once, twice, three times. “my lil’ cum bunny jus’ couldn’t wait till’ we got home.”
you shivered, squirming against the twitch of renewed interest between his legs. “guess we better head back then,” you murmured. “round two in our nice comfy bed sounds pretty perfect right about now.”
toji made a low sound of agreement, already envisioning peeling her out of that sinful dress and worshipping every inch of her properly. “i can make a thirty minute drive a fifteen — that work for you?”
“y’know you didn’t have to ask that.” you clambered off his lap and they hastily rearranged your clothing, giggling like you were being caught by some mall cop patrolling the area. and then, toji reversed, pulled back onto the glistening streets, one hand resting possessively high on your thigh as the lights of the city streaked by.
soon you were pulling into your familiar driveway. toji killed the engine and dashed around to open your door, ever the gentleman as usual even after tiring you and himself out so thoroughly. hand in hand, giddy and eager, you made you way up the front walk, your heels clicking on the wet concrete.
the door swung open on a scene of perfect domestic tranquility. there on the oversized couch lay satoru, sprawled out and snoring softly, the little ones curled up safe and sound on his chest. the sight filling toji’s heart with indescribable warmth.
gingerly, you both crept closer, not wanting to wake your peaceful babies. toji gazed down at their somber faces, so innocent in sleep, and felt his throat tighten with emotion. you then settled against his side and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.
“we made some damn cute kids,” you whispered with a contented sigh.
“absolutely we did,” toji agreed gruffly. he turned and pressed a kiss to your hair, soft and sweet. “i love our little family so much. and you . . i say it all the time, but god, i love you more than anything, yn. i wouldn’t have them without you.”
you tilted your face up to his, eyes liquid and luminous in the low light. “take me to bed n’ show me just how much you love me, lieutenant,” you murmured against his lips.
grinning, toji swept her into a bridal carry, careful not to jostle satoru and the kids. “roger that,” he whispered back playfully. “let’s go complete operation ‘welcome home.’”
and with that, he carried his gorgeous, giggling wife down the hall to their bedroom, ready to spend the rest of the night making good on the promise that had been building between them all evening long — a promise of passion, devotion, and a love that could set the whole world on fire.
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bamfkeeper · 2 months
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SFW Headcannons: Kurt and his Bamfs
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a/n: Obviously I love the bamfs, and I had to do some of these with them because I adore them and I want my own army of them, damnit. Depictions heavily taken from Nightcrawler (2014) comic series. Pretty hasty, just a fun little set of headcannons. I hope you enjoy <3
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The bamfs were something you hadn't anticipated, there were so many and their origin was difficult to wrap your head around. Kurt tried to explain it, but you were distracted by the curious bamfs staring at you.
They were adorable, about a dozen? Maybe more? They all were curious, they looked at you with big, round eyes. They seemed so innocent, and you couldn't help but smile.
Kurt was skeptical, they usually weren't this well behaved. You adored these little guys, and welcomed them like a horde of puppies rushing to you. They all jumped on you and made cooing noises as they played, like actual puppies. They were so playful, you didn't understand why Kurt was confused.
That was until you realized that the bamfs were as mischievous as they were playful. They were little gremlins, slightly destructive, and they tended to get into trouble like toddlers.
The bamfs don't speak, but they make an array of noises. Coos, squeaks, hisses, trills, etc. They communicate mostly through noises you come to recognize and body language.
They were a handful, they would make messes and look guilty after. You wanted to scold them, but their big round eyes looked up and that guilt got to you. You forgave them of course, Kurt sometimes says you have to be a little more firm with them or they will always guilt trip you to get away with things.
You didn't care. They practically adopted you as their mama.
There are lots of them, but you always show them equal love and affection. They are pretty needy for it, and like feeling pampered in the way that you treat them.
The bamfs get jealous easy too.
They are protective of you, just like Kurt, and they won't hesitate to keep you safe the best they can. They hiss and the fur on their backs raise a little.
Don't be fooled by their small size, they are like blue darts, they are incredibly hard to fight if they attack.
Each one has their own personality. They are all playful and a handful of troublemakers, but each one has something that makes them unique. More sensitive, more artistic, more sneaky, etc.
You love sleeping now because you have a big nest full of small blue bamfs curling up against you. They're so fuzzy and warm, you hold as many as you can to your chest while they rest pile around you.
Some bamfs stay behind when Kurt goes away just to keep you company.
You really do love taking care of them, and Kurt loves to watch you love on the bamfs. He thinks it's endearing and sweet.
He doesn't understand how you seem to get the bamfs to do what you say. They listen to him, but normally he has to say something over and over before they decide to listen. With you, it's instantaneous. You ask them to calm down, they do. You ask them to stop fighting, they do. It boggles him how they just obey you so easily.
Part of him thinks they only obey you to annoy him even further, and that might be true, but they also care a lot about you and they want nothing but to see you happy.
Also these things can EAT. They consume so much food you think their little tummies are going to explode. They have a strong liking for popcorn and sweets, to which Kurt tries to limit because hyper bamfs are extremely difficult to deal with.
However, a dozen or so begging you with their eyes is so hard to say no to.
And thus, you have a house full of bamfs bouncing off the walls.
You have a lot of fun with the bamfs, they can be a bit overwhelming from time to time, but at the end of the day when you get into bed and they all come snuggling close to you, you know it's worth it.
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Thanks for reading.
*BAMF*
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dividers by @/adornedwithlight
Cover photo from Nightcrawler #1 (2014)
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corroded-hellfire · 14 days
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I love the AYW universe, whenever I get bored I come and choose a random part to read again anyways the newest update was really good, especially the NKOTB mention cause I'm a big fan of them too ❤️
Anyways a thought I had is what if reader shows Eliza NKOTB music at some point just like my mom did with me. I feel like Eddie would pick on reader for being a new kids fan but once Eliza is on the dark side he knows he'll have to put up with it
This reminded me of the home movie of my big sister doing this dance and now I want to find it lol. Also a big thank you to the lovely @lokis-army-77 for helping me when my brain forgot what words were 💕
Words: 1.7k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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The end of May means that Eliza’s dance classes have paused for the summer, but her brothers are still in school, leaving her bored. Dance also helped burn off the three-year-old’s extra energy, which is now dropped in your lap.
After a week of no dance classes, an idea strikes you when Eliza stumbles upon a box from your childhood while playing hide and seek. 
“Hmm…” you hum as you walk into your room. “Where, oh, where is my little girl?”
The sound of a box shifting in your closet catches your attention. You smile to yourself and tip toe towards the closet. The shuffling continues as you reach for the doorknob.
Quickly, you yank the door open.
“Gotcha!”
Eliza is sitting in a cardboard box, various CDs and cassettes tumbling out and a couple clutched in her tiny hand. Your daughter grins up at you, her dimples heightening her already high level of cuteness. 
“What’s these, Mama?” she asks.
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” you say, sitting down on the floor in front of the box. “Oh, okay. This is music I listened to when I was a kid.”
“Like me?” Eliza asks.
“Mm, more around Luke’s age.”
“Can I hear?”
“Sure, baby,” you say. 
You pick up a small stack and start to go through them before one in particular catches your attention. 
“Hey, Liza. Want me to teach you a dance?”
Her large brown eyes widen, and she nods so quickly that it looks like her head is about to fly off.
“Yes!”
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“Ugh, thank God I’m home,” Eddie sighs as he steps through the front door. 
He kicks off his boots and stretches out the muscles in his lower back. 
“Hey, you.” You smile at your husband as you stroll in the room to greet him. He smiles in return when you slip your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his lips. “How was work?”
“Not bad,” Eddie says. “Not as good as this.”
“Dinner is almost ready,” you tell him. “But we have a special performance first.”
“Oh?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow. “Luke want to read some Shakespeare for us?”
You laugh and drop your head to Eddie’s jumpsuit-clad shoulder.
“No, he’s doing his homework. Assured me he didn’t want to be here for this performance.”
“That scares me,” Eddie admits. “What about Ry?”
“He’s out with friends,” you say. “This is just for you. So, go get changed and meet me on the couch.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Eddie yawns as he steps into the living room, scratching his stubbled jaw. He plops down on the couch in one of his old Hellfire shirts from high school and a pair of black sweats that are looking more faded and grayer these days. His mane of hair has been pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck and all traces of oil or dirt from the day in the garage are gone. 
“Thought I was supposed to be entertained,” Eddie says loudly, smiling to himself.
“In a minute!” Eliza shouts back from her bedroom down the hall.
Eddie laughs and stretches his arms out, resting them on the back of the couch. 
A few moments later, you come down the hallway and swipe up the remote that controls the stereo. The spot on the couch next to Eddie looks like it’s been waiting for you, so you grab it and cuddle up to his side. Your husband wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of your head.
“You smell good,” you murmur to him. 
“Used some of your soap,” he replies.
You take another sniff and realize it’s your body wash from Bath and Body Works. A store where Eddie refuses to buy anything, yet always uses what you get. 
“Thief,” you tease before sticking your tongue out at him.
“A-hem-hem!”
Eliza is peeking around the corner from the hall and you’re quick to remember your role and nod at her.
“So,” you say, looking back at Eddie. “Have you heard that Eliza will be starting preschool in the fall?”
Eddie’s brow furrows and raises at the same time. It’s a look that says of course I have and where in the hell are you going with this?
“Yes…”
“Well, you know what that will make her?” You aim the remote towards the stereo and press the play button. “A New Kid on the Block.”
Bum-bum bum-bum buh
Bum-bum-bum buh
“Oh God,” Eddie whispers. 
A grin splits your face from ear to ear as you snuggle into your husband’s side and watch your daughter emerge into the spotlight of the living room. 
You wanted her to look as authentic as possible for the late 80s, but with Eliza’s wardrobe, that mostly meant finding the right hues of pink to put together. It works for her, but even if it didn’t, Eliza would make it work. 
First time was a great time
Second time was a blast
Third time I fell in love
Now I hope it lasts
“What did you do to our girl?” Eddie grits out quietly through his teeth as Eliza starts to dance. 
“She wanted to listen to some of her mommy’s music,” you say sweetly, laying your head down on your husband’s shoulder. “And she misses her dance class.”
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Eliza puts her hands on the waistband of her neon pink leggings and begins to shuffle her legs from side to side while hopping like the iconic moves from the music video. 
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The right stuff
Now, Eliza steps with her left foot and pumps her left hand up towards her right shoulder twice. Then, she switches and goes to the left with her right hand and foot.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The right stuff
Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie grin. It makes you pick your head up so you can get a full view of his smile as Eliza bounces along to the beat. 
“She gives Joey McIntyre a run for his money,” you whisper.
“I’m going to assume that’s one of the members,” he murmurs back. 
You roll your eyes and silently vow to give this whole family a boy band education. 
The last chorus is about to start, and Eliza runs up and grabs your hand.
“Come on, Mama!”
With a chuckle, you stand up and join her at the front of the living room. Both of you position your hands at the top of your pants and begin to hop on one foot, bring them back together, then hop on the other. 
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The right stuff
Eliza giggles wildly as the two of you do this together. She looks up at you as you dance, her curls bouncing and cheeks pink from the small exertion of energy. 
A sort of lightness fills your body, your mind transported back to when you were hardly a preteen and learning this dance for the first time all alone in your room. The fact that you’re now doing it with your daughter in front of your husband makes you nothing short of giddy. 
Now, the two of you go on to the next move. Step with foot, pump hand, step, pump, switch. Step, pump, step, pump.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
The right stuff
The song finishes and Eliza bows. Eddie cheers and you clap your hands until Eliza straightens and tries to tug you down in a bow with her. Instead, you give a deep curtsy and bow your head in Eddie’s direction.
“That’s my girls!” Eddie whoops as he claps. 
Eliza giggles and runs over to her father, launching herself in his lap. He catches her and lets out an oof.
You take back your previous position at Eddie’s side and Eliza flops down to lay across both of your laps. 
“I like that song!” Eliza states. 
“Me too.” You poke her belly, and she lets out an airy laugh. 
“You like it, Daddy?” Eliza asks.
You raise an eyebrow and smirk at your husband. Eddie can practically read your mind: Go ahead, babe. You’ve made fun of me a thousand times for liking New Kids on the Block, now tell that to your daughter. 
Eddie looks down at Eliza before responding.
“I loved your and Mommy’s dance. You’re both very good.”
The dodged question doesn’t even register to the little girl; she’s just happy that her dad enjoyed the dance she learned today. 
“Maybe next time we teach Daddy a dance too, huh?” you say.
Eddie whips his head in your direction and narrows his eyes, making you giggle.
“Yes!” Eliza cheers, sitting up. “We’ll find a Daddy dance!”
“We’ll find a really good one,” you add. 
“Mama, don’t let me forget tomorrow!”
“Oh, don’t worry,” you assure her. “I won’t.”
Eddie lets out a low growl and leans in to nip at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You squeal and pull away from him.
“Daddy, no biting!” Eliza chastises. 
“What if Mommy likes it?” Eddie responds. 
“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” Eliza shakes her head. “Biting is bad.”
“But what if I’ve got…” Eddie pauses and leans so far over you that you’re forced to lay back on the couch cushion with a chuckle. “The right stuff?”
He waggles his eyebrows at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, despite being tickled by the dad joke. 
Eliza sighs and lays down on top of you, her head resting just above your heart.
“Isn’t Daddy so silly?” she asks you.
You grin up at Eddie as he winks at you.
“The silliest!”
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This is complaining day because I realized there's more than one thing that got on my nerves lately and it's not just about the treatment of a kpop idol's mother. Let's begin.
Please, stop refering to Jungkook's mother as mama Jeon. I know the tendency is to ignore so many of the cultural differences that exist, but in SK, people don't change their surname after marriage. It just sounds idiotic and westernized in a ridiculous way.
So, Jungkook's mother loves all BTS members. She LOVES them all. How does army know that? How? I'm genuinely curious and genuinely asking. Because they say it as a certainty. Or, forgive me if my memory is faulty as well, but the only instance that we as outsiders were privy to in which we heard that woman speak for the first time, it was in early 2021 on another phonecall with Jungkook when she said I love you to Jimin.
Of course, the same ot7 narrative came as a buldozer at that time too. Damn, does that mean Jimin = BTS? Sometimes yes, but only when Army wants to diminish Jimin's importance and doesn't allow him to stand out individually too much. Musically or otherwise. But back to this Big Love that Jungkook's mom is supposedly feeling for everyone and which has been invoked once again when that woman mentioned Jimin twice while talking to Jungkook on the phone. Cause she already knew they were in Jeju. I bet she didn't have to find out randomly from a schedule group chat.
So what happens? An assumption is turned into certainty because of small people being extremely insecure. Because they see that one person is once again given more importance on a personal level and we can't have that. No sir! So in a panic, they tweet, they post on tumblr, tiktok, youtube the old age, boring af, sounding like a broken record sentence: "Mama Jeon loves all seven". Fuck me gently with a chainsaw cause that sounds a lot better than the feeling of throwing up I get whenever I read such things.
No, she doesn't love all of them. That is not a fact. It could be true and it's not impossible. But it is not a fact based on the knowledge we have at the moment.
Also, it shows once again that an entire fandom is actively creating a reality of their own which is not even like some sort of simulacrum of the reality they must live through. In Army world, the mother of one member of a k-pop group must love all the members of such group. It doesn't matter than irl, our mothers a lot of the times don't even like all our friends, besties or partners. We might have the most incredible connections and it would mean nothing to our mothers.
In that same vein, another narrative that makes me want to pull my eyes out is the "awww, their bond is to die for, they are (like) siblings after all". Do any of them never had any siblings? Never saw other people and their relationship with their siblings? Or with their family?
I also had to read (which was followed by me blocking it immediately) how Jimin and Jungkook's relationship is the sum of the other relationships they have with other BTS members. I mean, why would I have any sort of expectations from any of these people when they are completely incapable of looking at JM and JK as actual people. As persons with individual minds and an intellect of their own. Let alone the fact that their world does not stop with the presence of 5 other men. In what realistic scenario does this translate in real life? That's not how it works. Yes, we are social creatures and a product of our surroundings, but it is not in the way in which these stans believe it to be. They think that living in a dorm for a few years and working together with other people, it means that those experiences are the only ones that actually shape the personality of a person. They are real people, not fictional characters. I've never heard such ridiculous theories in my entire life, to be used as talking points about someone's behavior or relationship with another person.
Maybe the need to create this elaborate fantasy comes from the lack of love in their life, which then gets projected into this Disney, kumbaya, capitalist heaven narrative in which everyone is a big family and they love each other so much and equally and all the parents of all the children love every single member and thus, harmony is created. Love is always platonic and ever present. The complexity of human relationships must not exist.
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tangledinink · 1 year
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So, Leo and Donnie were raised first as the Grand Nexus Hotel's most spoiled twins, and then as the infamous Gemini in the Battle Nexus under Big Mama's wing... So then where's Mikey?
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(mystical prodigy) (alchemical genius) (prophesized leader and defender)
enter -> michelangelo, son of baron draxum
mikey was raised by their creator, draxum, as the beginning of the army that will one day defend yokai-kind from the prophesized threat on the horizon. he was not originally given a name, typically referred to as 'turtle' or 'mutant,' until they got old enough to want one and asked draxum for one. when draxum suggested he instead name himself, he hemmed and hawwed for some time before 'michelangelo' came to him in a dream. draxum thought it was silly at first, but saw that it made mikey... happy, and so now invariably refers to him as such.
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in addition to martial arts, survival skills, and military strategy, draxum took the time to teach his son creation the art of alchemy, which he took to like a fish to water ("it's just like cooking!") and often incorporates alchemical mixes and potions into combat. he also has a tendency to add brightly colored dyes to his concoctions-- just for the fun of it.
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and i don't need to tell you this boy is mystic as fuck, right? draxum was thrilled by his creation son's immense raw potential and innate abilities, and has been working to help him hone these skills since he was old enough to sit upright. donatello may be a witch, but when if mikey were to ever meet them, they would laugh and call them cute.
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being raised by draxum has hardened mikey somewhat, leading to him being a bit more intense and focused, but raising mikey softened draxum in turn.
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moonselune · 3 months
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Okay 1 I’m new to your blog but I’ve read your pin post. 2 you’ve content has just kept on showing up hence why I’m here and 3 can I request BG3 ladies reaction to gn Reader who has a habit of adopting children on the streets so when they come home to Baldurs gate. Alllll of Readers kids are like “Papa/Mama!” I just can’t help but laugh at the pure Chaos that would happen
I love the idea you were just browsing the tag and I just would not stop showing up and you were just like ah ffs might as well
mwhahaha welcome to this mess
This is such a sweet request and I had so much fun writing it!
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Karlach:
The streets of Baldur's Gate hummed with life as you and Karlach made your way home. The closer you got, the more your heart pounded with anticipation and a touch of anxiety. You had mentioned your habit of adopting children off the streets to Karlach, but you had definitely downplayed the number.
As you rounded the corner to your home, a chorus of excited shouts erupted.
“Y/N!” A whirlwind of children of all ages, from teenagers to toddlers, rushed towards you. In an instant, you were surrounded, hugged, and pulled in every direction.
Karlach’s eyes widened with surprise, but a wide grin quickly spread across her face. “Well, I’ll be damned! Look at all these little rascals!”
One of the older kids, a lanky teen with tousled hair, pointed excitedly at Karlach. “You’re the one from the letters! The big, strong one!”
Karlach laughed heartily, dropping to her knees to be at eye level with the children. “That’s right! And you must be the ones Y/N never stops talking about.”
Chaos ensued as Karlach was bombarded with questions and challenges. She revelled in the chaos, roughhousing with the older kids, lifting the younger ones in the air, and roaring with laughter. One by one, the children warmed up to her, their initial awe giving way to delighted squeals and playful shoves.
Karlach’s enthusiasm was infectious, and soon, the entire street was filled with the sounds of joy and laughter. She wrestled with the teenagers, showing them moves and tips while effortlessly juggling the toddlers, who giggled uncontrollably.
As you watched Karlach seamlessly integrate into the lively chaos, your heart swelled with gratitude and love. She caught your eye over the heads of your children, her smile softening into something more intimate and tender.
“Hey, Y/N,” she called out, her voice warm with affection. “I think I’m gonna like it here.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Minthara:
The walk home with Minthara was filled with a comfortable silence, the drow warrior’s presence a steady anchor beside you. You had told her about your habit of adopting children off the streets, but you hadn’t quite been upfront about the sheer number of them.
As you neared your home, the familiar sound of children’s laughter and chatter grew louder. Suddenly, a small army of kids of all ages burst from the house, their faces lighting up at the sight of you. “Y/N!” they cried, rushing towards you. Minthara’s eyes widened in surprise, her expression quickly shifting to one of mild shock as she was swept up in the chaos.
“By Lolth’s web,” she muttered, stepping slightly behind you as the children swarmed. You were surprised she hadn't leapt up on your shoulder yet and started hissing at them, but there was still time. She came close to doing so when your toddler grabbed at the end of her robes, their little fingers covered in their own drool.
But before Minthara yelled at you to get it off of her, an older child, a girl with bright eyes and a confident stance, approached Minthara, looking at her in awe. “You’re Minthara, right? The drow, the one that saved Y/N?”
Minthara blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Yes, that’s correct,” she replied, her voice cautious as she still panicked about the grubby toddler that was advancing their assault, now using her robes as a tissue.
The girl’s eyes sparkled with admiration. “Can you teach us? Please? Y/N said you are the best fighter she has ever met!”
Minthara’s initial reaction was to scowl and correct the child that she was the best fighter ever, but the earnestness in the girl’s eyes softened her. “Teach you?” she repeated, glancing at you for guidance.
You gave her an encouraging smile and to her relief, scooped up the toddler that was about to wipe something on Minthara's leg. “They’d love to learn from you, Minthara.”
Minthara hesitated but then nodded, her usual stern demeanor relaxing slightly. “Very well. I can teach you a few things.”
The older children gathered around her, their excitement palpable. Even the previous enemy toddler, wobbling on unsteady legs, looked up at her with wide, curious eyes. Minthara knelt down, her movements careful and deliberate, and began to demonstrate basic dagger holds.
As she spoke to them, her confidence grew, and the children listened intently, mimicking her movements with the sticks they had. The initial chaos had given way to a more organized form of learning, with Minthara guiding them patiently.
You watched with a smile, your heart swelling with affection and pride. When Minthara had sent them off and returned to you, she gave you a small, almost shy smile.
“This,” she said quietly, “is not what I expected.”
You chuckled, stepping closer to her. “Welcome to the family, Minthara. It’s always a bit chaotic, but there’s a lot of love here.”
She nodded, a hint of warmth in her eyes. “I can see that. And perhaps,” she added, glancing at the children who were now eagerly practicing the dagger holds she had taught, “this small army isn’t so bad after all.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Lae'zel:
Returning to Baldur's Gate with Lae'zel by your side, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves. You had mentioned your habit of adopting children off the streets, but you hadn’t quite conveyed just how many there were. As you turned the corner to your home, a wave of voices erupted.
“Y/N!”
Suddenly, a throng of children rushed towards you. They encircled you in an instant, their arms wrapping around you, pulling you in every direction. Lae'zel’s eyes widened in surprise, her usual stern demeanor faltering.
“What is this chaos?” she demanded, her voice tight with alarm. “Where is the discipline?”
One of the teenagers tugged at your sleeve, laughing. “Who’s the scary lady?”
“Lae'zel, this is my family,” you said, turning to her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “They’re just excited to see us. Relax and go play with them.”
Lae'zel looked at you, clearly puzzled. “Play? What do you mean by play?”
You smiled, crouching down to address the younger children. “Kids, I have a super important adventure for you, do you think you can handle it?"
"We're not babies Y/N of course we can!" The little children shouted at you.
"Okay, well if you think you can handle it" You said in mock disbelief "Can you teach Lae'zel how to play?”
With delighted giggles, the children took Lae'zel by the hands, leading her towards a game of tag. She stood stiffly at first, unsure of how to engage. But as the children ran around her, laughing and encouraging her to join, she began to loosen up.
One of the younger kids, a girl with pigtails, tugged on Lae'zel’s hand. “Come on, Lae'zel! It’s fun!”
Lae'zel hesitated but then nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Very well. Show me how to… play.”
You watched with a mix of amusement and affection as Lae'zel, the fierce warrior, was gradually drawn into the children’s games. Her initial panic gave way to tentative enjoyment, and soon she was running and laughing with the rest of them.
When she caught your eye across the yard, her smile was radiant. “I am still not certain about this play,” she called out, “but it is not entirely unpleasant!”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Shadowheart:
Walking through Baldur’s Gate with Shadowheart, you felt a sense of anticipation. You had told her about your habit of adopting children off the streets, but you hadn’t gone into detail about the number of kids you’d taken in. As you approached your home, a joyful chorus greeted you.
“Y/N!”
A swarm of children of all ages came rushing towards you, their faces lighting up with excitement. They surrounded you in an instant, hugging you and clamoring for your attention. Shadowheart’s eyes widened in surprise, her usually composed demeanor giving way to uncertainty.
“Oh my,” she murmured, glancing at you. “This is… a lot of children.”
“Shadowheart, meet my family,” you said with a smile, you then leaned in and whispered to her, “Just go with the flow.”
She nodded, still looking a bit bewildered. One of the younger kids, a little boy with curly hair, grabbed her hand. “Come play with us, Lady Battleflower!”
Shadowheart blinked. “Lady Battleflower?”
“Yes, you’re Lady Battleflower now!” the boy declared with a giggle.
Shadowheart gave you a bemused look, but she allowed the children to lead her away. You watched as she was drawn into a tea party, the children fussing over her, placing imaginary crowns on her head and handing her tiny cups.
Later, you found her still seated at a tiny table, a group of kids around her. She was holding a teacup delicately, playing along with their game. One of your children corrected her posture, insisting that Lady Battleflower must sit with grace.
You approached with a grin, ruffling your children's hair as you walked past them towards your beloved. “Shadowheart, may I join your tea party?”
Shadowheart looked up, a slight blush on her cheeks. “Only if you address me properly,” she said, her tone playful. “Lady Battleflower demands it.”
"Oh my apologies," You laughed, taking a seat beside her. “Lady Battleflower. It’s an honor.”
As your children continued their game, you exchanged a smile with Shadowheart. She was clearly out of her element, but she was making an effort, and the children adored her for it.
Later, as you sat together, watching the children play, Shadowheart leaned close to you. “This is… different,” she admitted. “But it’s not as overwhelming as I thought.”
You squeezed her hand. “Thank you for trying, Shadowheart. It means a lot.”
She smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes. “Anything for you, Y/N. And it's Lady Battleflower, actually, your dismissal is offensive, I require five kisses as reparation”
"Only five?" You asked as you leaned towards her, "I believe someone of your stature requires, much, much more." You pulled Shadowheart into a deep passionate kiss, forgetting that you were surrounded by kids who quite quickly made theirselves known.
"Oh my gods, I'm going to throw up!"
"Somebody gouge my eyes out, please"
"Ah! they are eating each other!"
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Oh my gods I had so much fun writing this I actually cannot express it ! Hope y'all enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox
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starleska · 5 months
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rolls into here.... do you happen to have any headcanons or ideas perhaps on how nordic would treat his s/o. this is totally not for oc/canon / f/o reasons (lying)
the only idea i have so far is that he's like, 100% a little clingy even if he tries to cover it up
hell YEAH I DO!! oh my gosh i was hoping so much that someone would send in a request for our favourite sexy guitar man 🙈💖 he shows off so much character in such a short space of time...tell me what you think of this 😉
Nordic Bunny x Reader headcanons 🤘🎸
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🎸 Nordic Bunny is the very definition of devoted to you. he's a man of deep insecurity and impossibly high energy, and when that's put in combination, you're in for a whirlwind of a romance!! he's always doting on you with unique, delightfully embarrassing (and LOUD) compliments, declaring you things like, 'The Awesomest Partner in the Galaxy!' and 'A Paragon of Beauty and Intellect!'. he simply doesn't have an ounce of shame in his body, so he pretends not to hear you when you try to get him to hush. in fact, you suspect that he rather likes the way his words make you squirm and blush! 😳
🎸 clingy doesn't even cover it - Nordic Bunny borders on separation anxiety. he's forever touching you in ways he tries to play off as casual: light touches on the waist, fingers curling around the shoulder...but Nordic always seems so disappointed when you finally break away. when the two of you are alone, he'll sometimes drop the bravado to ask you in a small voice, "You're not...planning on leaving any time soon, right?" at night he's insistent on being the big spoon, and curls around you like a latex blanket, tail wrapping over your thighs and strings tickling the back of your neck. he's forever terrified that you will find a reason to move on...so you know the best way to reciprocate is to be vocal with your love and generous with your attention 🥰
🎸 lucky for you that you have such a powerful villain for a partner...if anyone so much as looks at you wrong, they'll be wiped from existence. you bet if someone throws a harsh word your way, Nordic Bunny is there to clap back instantly, with a, "You kiss your mama with that ugly mouth?!" or a, "I know you are, but what am I?!" the rebuttal is soothing, but just for show...because as soon as you're distracted, Nordic's going to send an army of Battle Crabs to pinch the offending person until they're seafood. make no mistake: Nordic Bunny would die for you, but he'd kill for you first 😉
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itsabouttimex2 · 6 days
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I hope this isn't an odd question
But, do you think Wukong or Macaque would act or treat different their "cub" if they genders were swapped or being a female version? This is also for a Yan behavior
I don't know too much about how is the raising of a monkey from the father and mother so I was curious with this since they're both mystical demons
I was thinking about this when I saw some fanarts from the artist @/car_nimbus on Twitter, they made a neat versions of the characters with another gender
Monkey Mama
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(Hmm okay let me build a hypothetical OG “Female Monkey King” to work off of here and then I’ll try to translate that into LMK’s SWK. Also, I’ll probably make a second variation of this afterwards with other characters, haha. This got a little long to do both SWK and Mac!)
Sun Wukong as a character is already heavily defined by rebellion and personal choice, so I think that making him a girl only really compounds that layer of his character.
In many older narratives, female characters are often expected to be more obedient or modest than men, and very frequently only exist as prizes or, more rarely, villains. A female Sun Wukong; assuming she plays the same role as her original incarnation, defies the expectations of how “traditional” women should behave, shirking the demure and passive “ideal” and adding another layer of rebellion to her character.
(JTTW is actually pretty great in terms of female representation, with characters ranging from the perpetually good Quanyin, the eventually repentant Princess Iron Fan, and the straight up evil White Bone Spirit. I’m a big fan of how the women aren’t slid into any one “role” throughout the story.)
I think: in story, she’d likely be viewed as a sort of “anomaly”—a woman too strong, too outspoken, and too unwilling to conform to typical feminine ideals. Her defiance and arrogance might be viewed as even more scandalous by the Celestial Realm.
Instead of being made a “stable-keeper”, I think probably she’s sent to whatever Heavenly Scullery exists in that divine realm, and put to work very quickly. She would treat this “job” with indifference or even amusement at first-after all, physical labor or menial tasks don't diminish her self-worth or confidence! She’s had a life of hard work, leading an army of Yaoguai, cultivating Flower Fruit Mountain,
So she’s fine with this… at first. Then it turns out that the food she makes with her fellow low-class workers isn’t distributed amongst the people making it, but plated up nice and pretty for a bunch of “stuffy old gods” who didn’t lift a finger! Bullshit!
So obviously, the prideful Monkey Queen goes on a destructive rampage in regards to the unfair disparity of treatment, then storms back down to Earth to throw a “feel-better” party with her fellow Yaogaui.
(Which isn’t just a party, but a symbolic reclaiming of joy and community, with her monkey tribe representing the freedom she craves and the earthly bonds she prefers over heavenly authority. It's not just an escape, but a statement of independence.)
After an extensive set of repairs, the Court sends down someone to drag her back, because, you know, the local super-powered monkey is back on the loose, and that’s not exactly great for them. This time, they offer her a “better” role- she gets to become an official Peach Maiden, lucky her!
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Of course, it’s just another form of entrapment, but within a prettier cage. Even though she's given a cushier position, it's a veneer- she's still being silenced, controlled, and stripped of her freedom. The role played by a Peach Maiden is an inversion of Wukong's essence, as these women are happily serving the role of passive caretakers, nurturing with gentle smiles—a direct contrast to the free-willed, brash nature of the Monkey Queen.
(And while there’s nothing wrong with being demure, passive, and feminine, having people try to force her into that role is where Sun Wukong draws her line.)
Here, she is expected to watch in silence as others revel in the freedom and power denied to her. It's a different kind of prison, one that quietly erodes her spirit. When the Celestial Court tries to reintegrate her as a Peach Maiden, they are once again attempting to place her into a docile, decorative role, one that strips away her power and independence. Those immortal peach orchards, a symbol of immortality and divine favor, becomes a prison for her.
Surrounded by "ideal" women who embody the quiet, submissive role she despises, the Monkey Queen finds herself chafing under the pressure of conformity. Her energy, once boundless and chaotic, is now caged, and the simmering resentment builds.
The buildup to her inevitable rebellion after being made a Peach Maiden, then, becomes a very sympathetic moment because it's not just a rejection of the role forced on her, but a rejection of the very system that tries to diminish who she is at her core. Her rebellion isn’t about anger and shame- it’s about reclaiming her true self after having been suffocated by the expectations of the Celestial Court. Her rampage becomes an assertion of her identity as something that can't be confined by heavenly rules or social mores.
The Court, in its attempt to “contain" her, only fuels her defiance further, leading her once again to rebel.
It was never going to end well. But it ends all the same, and punishment is to be levied to the Queen, just the same as any other rebellious rule-breaker... actually, probably harsher.
There’s “you broke our rules and tried to lead a coup”, then there’s “you did all that, and we also find your very person to be wrong on a fundamental level”, and then she gets the book thrown at her twice over.
But! Then she meets Tang Sanzang, who sees something in her that neither the Celestial Realm nor her own band of Sworn Brothers saw. Not a heretic simian savaging a holy realm. Not a Queen to rally behind for their own gain.
But a lost soul in need of guidance.
And from there the Great Monk works on building Sun Wukong up as a person instead of leading her astray or trying to cut massive chunks of her personality out? And talks to her about the things she cares about? And teaches her about all the things she missed after spending five hundred years under a rock?
And then she meets Zhu Baije, who starts out a little too happy and carefree about having a beautiful woman around, but eventually comes to smash open heads when Wukong is disrespected, because that’s not just a hot woman, that’s his sister?
Or Sha Wujing, who helps her with even the smallest things, from trimming her claws to cutting her wild hair to preparing meals for the monk? And lets her perch on his shoulders and head so the queen can get some skinship in?
Then Ao Lie, who is every bit the “disappointment to the world at large” that she was considered? And they take turns braiding each other’s hair and wiping the mess from the other’s face, and sleeping in the same tent and same bedroom because it’s less effort?
She gets a dad and three little brothers?
She gets a family.
And then loses it and is alone again for several hundred years more.
So if we go with this theoretical “My natural existence has been rejected for being seen as ‘improper’ by a court of stuffy traditional assholes” and then “I dearly love/miss my dead found family” angle, I think she’d be portrayed as a very different sort of character in LMK.
She’s quicker to lash out and defend herself, and much less willing to sit around and let the world pass her by- because that’s what was demanded of her by the Celestial Realm.
Be good. Be quiet. Be demure. Be obedient. Be anything except you.
I don’t think she’d be as willing to “rest on her laurels” as her canon counterpart, given that a “quiet boring life” was what she had fought so very hard to escape in the first place, so instead of isolating herself from the world in the first place, she probably sets up a little “souvenir shop” at the foot of Flower Fruit Mountain, taking a human form to sell little knick-knacks that herald to the journey she undertook with her old friends.
In part, this is how Wukong works to honor them. To spread their legacy. To ensure that they aren’t forgotten, left as a footnote in the annals of history. To remember them.
In part, it’s how she justifies all the mistakes she’s made and the suffering she’s been through. Settling in to a pointlessly relaxed life is exactly what she fought against, after all. She’s heavily fallen into the “sunk-cost fallacy”, where giving up and settling in, to her, means “losing”. It means “everything I went through was all for nothing”. So she keeps at this little store instead of just retiring and isolating herself from the world, even though she’d be happier to ditch it and lounge about.
So when MK and his eccentric bunch of friends comes around with their boundless energy and mischief, she immediately goes, “Oh, okay! This is what I wanted!”
(It’s not. All she’s ever wanted is her friends back. How could there be anything else?)
The Monkie Kids are vibrant, eccentric, and full of qualities that immediately resonate with Wukong. They remind her of the energy, camaraderie, and sense of adventure that she once shared with her old companions. She sees MK's arrival not just as a chance to teach someone a few of her old tricks, but as an echo of her own life—a life she hasn't been able to truly let go of.
So she starts projecting- on the surface, MK is very much like her. He's spirited, good-natured, and curious- and reckless. Just like she was. Wukong latches onto this quickly, sort of using the kid as a proxy for herself. After all, if she can't go back to her old life, why not embrace a new one that feels close enough? In some ways, this marks her refusal to accept the passage of time, a desperate clinging to the hope that, through MK, she can rekindle the connections she once cherished.
However, underneath that initial enthusiasm is the repressed understanding that MK, despite his similarities to her younger self, cannot truly replace what she lost. The friends she fought beside, the battles they waged together, and the lessons they learned are unique, irreplaceable moments in her life. No matter how much MK’s gang reminds her of the past, he and his friends a stand-in for the companions she still longs for. But her deep desire to reconnect with her old friends clouds her ability to see MK for who he truly is: his own person, on his own journey.
It takes her a while to get to that point, though. So she’s more doting and affectionate, in a way that somewhat stifles her student’s training because she wants to be both her old carefree self and also a good mentor, and the two just get jumbled.
Sidenote: I think with the difference in actions and behavior, MK would be more open to viewing Fem!Wukong as a parental figure than the OG, especially since he doesn’t really have someone to fulfill that “mom” role.
For their dynamic, I think something like this would be the outcome:
———————————————————————-
The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, painting the landscape in hues of varied orange and blue. With a tired hand, MK wipes the sweat from his brow.
He’s perched on one of the rocky spires dotting Flower Fruit Mountain, gazing at the view with a small smile of accomplishment. Training had been intense lately… if only because he had been doubling down on the time he spent practicing, without giving as much care to rest or aftercare.
After all, even though his powers were blooming steadily… his enemies also were growing in power and quantity, leading to the ever-creeping edge of fear that anything less than a constant one-hundred percent just wouldn’t be “enough”.
And right as he reaches back to grab the golden staff he has inherited from the Monkey Queen-
“MK! I told you to take a break, not run off to do more training!”
Her voice, uncharacteristically sharp, cuts through the formerly tranquil air, causing MK to jump. He turns just in time to see Sun Wukong strolling toward him, her hands on her hips and a look of mock annoyance on her face.
MK grinned sheepishly, shifting his grass-stained boots against the dirt. “I was just, you know… checking out the view.”
She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement as her eyes narrowed in annoyance. This kid... “Uh-huh. Checking out the view or sneaking in some practice when I wasn’t looking?”
Caught fast in his lie, MK rubbed the back of his neck, face scrunching up in embarrassment. “Maybe a little of both?”
In spite of herself, Sun Wukong quietly laughs, the sound echoing like a chiming bell through the mountain. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her in the wind, each strand catching the light like molten fire. Despite her legendary status- the rebellious warrior who’d fought the heavens and nearly won!- there was a warmth to her that MK had come to cherish.
“All work and no play, MK,” she said, sitting beside him on the rock and ruffling his hair with a fondness that always made him feel like a little kid again. “You’ll burn out before you get anywhere.”
He looked at her, eyes shining with admiration. “But you never stop training. You’ve been at this for centuries! I just…”
A pause, as his chest turns over, unsettled by the notion of opening up. But… it’s the Monkey Queen. So it.. should be okay, right?
“I want to make you proud.”
Sun Wukong’s expression softens, and she wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling the boy close in a tight embrace. “You already make me proud, kid. You don’t have to prove anything.”
MK leaned into the touch, feeling a wave of comfort wash over him. Even from the start she’d been like this with him- protective, nurturing… and maybe a bit overbearing at times. But he didn’t mind. It made him feel safe, like no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wasn’t alone.
MK chuckled, turning his face up to meet his idol’s eyes.” I’ll keep up,” he triumphantly declares, pumping a fist.” I promise.”
“Good.” Wukong shifted, her clawed hand lightly missing his spiked locks. “Now, how about we head back to the shop and grab something to eat? You’ve earned it.”
MK’s stomach growled at the mention of food, and he nodded so eagerly that she wondered if his head wouldn’t ache from the motion. “You know, I won’t say no to a good meal.”
The Monkey Queen stood up, dusting off her mentee’s clothes before offering him a hand. “Of course you won’t. C’mon, my treat.”
———————————————————————-
Now, to answer your question about how she acts in regards to her own cub… in general I think she’s much more doting than the OG, willing to express herself through constant displays of physical affection, in ways that are far more varied.
Constant forehead smooching, cuddles, grooming sessions, all of it! Mama Wukong never wants to let go of her baby! Sit down and let her paint your nails! Let her comb and braid your hair! Let her make you a nice lunch (loaded with mystical drugs to keep you nice and sleepy for extra cuddles), or at least a filling snack! Let her pepper your face with kisses as she spins you in her powerful arms!
Lots and lots of indulgent fluffy days of binging unhealthy foods and watching cozy reruns of old shows, your head in her lap as she hums and does up your hair with her lazy hands.
Lots of reminiscing about old suitors as she considers the quietest and quickest ways to kill anyone who makes the futile attempt to pursue you in the same way.
Despite her obsessive behavior, Wukong struggles with conflicting feelings about wanting her child to be strong and independent, just like her! She pushes you to train hard and become powerful, but when you inevitably seek their own freedom or autonomy, she’d experience a mix of pride and heartbreak, pushing her deeper into possessive tendencies.
If you ever tried to leave or even just start to break away, Wukong’s worst traits would bubble up like hellfire. Just as she fought against an entire realm’s authority, she would absolutely wage a war to keep her child close, all while justifying her actions as love.
The Monkey Queen is also more willing to take routes outside of brute force if it means securing extra protection for Y/N. If Macaque or maybe Azure (or someone else like Erlang Shen) wants to try and play “suitor”, well, she’s not too interested… until the thought arises that having him around makes you extra safe! And then she’s willing to think on it.
(That’s assuming that you aren’t one of their biological kids to begin with, in which case there might be a sort of “yandere triangle”. Azure/Macaque/Erlang Shen doing his damndest to reclaim his wife, before he learns that she’s had a child while he was gone... or maybe Pigsy and Tang decided that MK needs his mentor in a more ‘accessible’ position, and plot to drag her to Megapolis…)
Lots of potential monkey mama shenanigans, basically!
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zvdvdlvr · 5 months
Text
Where Were You? Where Were You?
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🩻 - Synopsis. Aaron realizes how badly he messed up, but doesn’t know if he has the strength to mend the wounds he gave himself and you.
🩻 - Warnings. Angst. No happy ending. Self isolating!Aaron. Boo hoo we’re all pitiful clowns here. Part one HERE! NOT EDITED!
🩻 - Author’s note. Part one got so much love!!! Thank you all for reading and commenting. I hop you enjoy the second part, but I’m bringing in the big guns for part three! :)
You stayed to get your psych evaluation. It took two tries. The first time around took a toll on you: reliving everything that happened, talking about it in explicit detail, and acting like everything was fine. But you knew you failed before it even began.
You took it again a couple weeks after. Even though you were officially benched from any cases, you didn’t complain.
All the time the team spent away gave you the opportunity to job surf. In reality, quitting the BAU was much harder than you initially imagined. Of course you would still be able to see them and talk to the team, it just… wouldn’t be the same. You would miss J.J.’s round of ‘good mornings’ as she swept by you all, eyes locked on the coffee pot a few feet away. You would miss Derek perched on Emily’s desk, teasing you, Spencer, and Emily like he was getting paid for it. You would miss Spencer looking over at you every couple of minutes to see of you were paying attention or not; making faces at you or mouthing words if you weren’t. You would also miss Emily spinning stories about her past, telling you the good and the bad, letting you closer into her heart. You would obviously miss Penelope’s hugs whenever she could tell if something was off, trying to cheer you up. And Rossi. Rossi buying the coffee at expensive places after begging him too, Rossi giving you advice during a case, Rossi being the father of the team he was meant to be. But… most of all you would miss Aaron.
Aaron speeding to his desk in the morning, desperate for something to wake him up. Aaron walking into casual Friday in a pair of tight-fitting jeans you didn’t know he had. Aaron stepping out of a hotel room in a quarter-zip, unaware of you ogling him. Aaron letting Jack go straight to you whenever the little guy swung by. Aaron’s smell when he hugged you. Aaron. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron.
No. You physically shook your head. Get rid of him, you thought, he’s just going to make it harder for you to leave. The computer screen was giving you a headache now. You finally decided to get up and stretch your legs.
As you moseyed over to Penelope’s cave, you noticed the time: 11:49.
“Hey Pen,” you greeted. “You eat anything? I’ll go grab lunch for us,” you offered.
“Hey mamas!” Derek greeted. You saw his face of the screen, smiling.
“Hey, you. How’s the case?” You asked, immediately happy to talk to the man.
Derek shrugged and looked at someone behind the camera. “Reid! C’mere. It’s y/n/n.”
You heard a couple gasps over the quiet chatter in the precinct and suddenly Emily and Spencer’s face showed up on the screen.
“Hi y/n!” Spencer greeted excitedly. You came to stand behind Penelope, poking her in the cheek as you greeted the both of them.
“Hey Spence! Hey Em!” You were happy to see the pair. Though you had seen them only four days ago, you missed them. A pang of guilt stabbed at your heart: how were you supposed to quit your job if you couldn’t stand four days away from them?
“-ffee shop you’d love. I got that mocha stuff you normally get to try, and it was alright. I guess I see why you like ‘em,” Emily shrugged.
“I’ve been telling you! Anyway, how’s the case?” You asked.
“Close. I can feel it,” the black haired woman said plainly.
Spencer nodded and started talking about the case. The unsub’s main slaughter technique consisted of an electrical wire- of all things- and a Swiss army knife, a different knife each kill. You nodded along, listening to what your friend said. Eventually, you heard “Reid!” and Spencer said a quick goodbye and he was out of frame.
“That’s our cue, baby girl,” Derek said. “I’ll talk to you two ladies later.”
You heard Emily’s ‘bye!’ and the screen turned black.
“Sweetness, I would love some food,” Penelope groaned. “I’ll eat anything you get, but I need a pink lemonade! I need it, y/n, or I may perish.”
You laughed. “Yes ma’am.” With that, you poked her other cheek gently and left.
— 🔥
Aaron heard your conversation. He heard your sweet laugh, how easily you fell into conversation with Derek, Spencer, and Emily. He thought of the few months before you were taken. You were excited about a stray kitten you had found, claiming that the little creature followed you from your apartment to the bookstore you swung by regularly. You hadn’t even realized the calico until you sat down and felt his little paws tugging on your pants, tiny mews trying for your attention.
You were overjoyed to have been- in your words- ‘decided worthy enough for the system to choose you’. Penelope had been buzzing about it too, especially after showing her numerous different pictures of the little fella.
Spencer had asked what you did with him, knowing you didn’t have the time to take care lf a kitten when you were gone so much. You told the team that you had given it to a cousin’s daughter, who was immediately taken with the kitten.
The joy in your tone as you gushed about the kitten was palpable. Aaron loved- liked so many things about you, and how passionate you are was definitely one of those qualities. But he felt his own smile fade off of his face as his eyes fell back on crime scene photos: he had a job to do. And you were unimportant.
— 🔥
You picked up Chinese food, ordering inside the restaurant because the line wrapped around the whole building.
After ordering, you paid and gave the cashier a smile. You kept smiling until you turned away, still feeling her wandering gaze drag harshly down your cheek, eyebrows furrowing as she tore herself away from the scar as dipped below your shirt.
As you stood back and waited, you felt like everyone’s eyes were on you. What an idiot, you thought: a government agent who doesn’t even have the confidence to buy some food. Your jaw tightened and you kept your eyes down, waiting until your last name was called. You saw a little girl look at you as you walked out. She held her hand up to wave and you smiled at her, the chubby cheeks of her face lifting into a bright smile. You looked away when her mother pulled her forward, sharp eyes glaring at you.
The little girl’s toothy smile filled your head as you drove back to the office. The ice in Penelope’s pink lemonade clinked around in the plastic cup as you drove. You drove in silence, thinking of the mother pulling her daughter away. Were you… really that bad? Ugly? Your heart sank into your stomach: a feeling you were starting to get used to. You saw your vision blur, but refused to cry. Maybe that’s why Aaron doesn’t want to see your face anymore. Because you were a monster. MacMillian had done his job- successfully.
— 🔥
Aaron stared at the text on his phone.
From Penelope Garcia 🖥️😄: u need to talk to y/n. ASAP. i  don’t think she’s okay and i think it has to do with the macmillian case
It had been three weeks since the case and you still hadn’t spoken to Aaron since before you were kidnapped. Well, you had talked to him, but it was stiff and professional. He looked over at Rossi who was speaking with a few officers. Aaron felt like an idiot.
He wanted bothing more than to drag you into his office and sit you down to talk. Talk about what happened, what he did, how you felt, how you’re feeling now. Aaron just wanted to help you heal but he knew he can’t. He can’t jeapordize your relationship or his job. Aaron felt a lump grow in his throat. He didn’t even know what he wanted anymore- other than you.
To Penelope Garcia 🖥️😄: How is she? What happened?
From Penelope Garcia 🖥️😄: she went to get food for us and came back all upset. i think the poor girl was about to cry :(
From Penelope Garcia 🖥️😄: and i think there’s something else i need to tell you
From Penelope Garcia 🖥️😄: but it has to be in person.
Aaron leaned back in his chair. “Damn it.”
— 🔥 
A day later the team came home. There was an arrest and the case was closed. There was a lighthearted conversation on the way home, Reid and Rossi playing a card game as Derek, Emily, and J.J. bickered over something (Aaron doesn’t know anything when they get together and scheme). But Hotch was looking out the window and thinking of Penelope’s texts. What had happened to make you shut down? What news did Penelope have for him? How were you doing mentally? How are you at home?
Hotch knew you had nightmares. Hell, everyone could tell. You had growing purple splotches under your eyes, a larger coffee cup every morning, and you zones out consistently during the day. You wore turtlenecks- that Hotch personally thought you looked amazing in- even in 85 degree weather. Not to mention how jumpy you are whenever someone touches you.
Reid had nudged you one day to get your attention; you were staring at nothing and it was time to leave. Derek watched you, a frown on his face after saying your name thrice. Spencer nudged your shoulder with a knuckle and you flew backwards, stumbling out of your chair, a hand coming to your cheek (where The Scar ran down your face). You played it off quickly after seeing Derek, Emily, Rossi, and even Hotch’s looks. But the fear in your eyes… Spencer knew you thought he would hurt you.
After landing, Hotch gave the team the day. As they all cheered and left to get their stuff, Hotch walked into the bullpen where he knew you were still working.
“Y/n.”
God, Aaron missed you. Missed seeing you, being in the same room as you- hell, breathing the same air as you.
You looked up from your computer, eyes falling on an exhausted looking SSA Aaron Hotchner. “Sir?”
“You may have the rest of the day off.” Aaron swallowed, holding your eye contact. Your eyes were one of his weaknesses. After a second of silence, you nodded.
“Thank you, sir.” 
Hotch turned on his heel and made his way to see Penelope. He felt his head spin: your blank stare and emotionless eyes felt like a knife to the gut. Aaron really fucked up, hadn’t he? Fucked up so bad you called him ‘sir’ and acted like you hadn’t bonded over your love for Phil Collins and old action movies. And how to looked away from him like you hadn’t slept in Aaron’s house clad in a pair of his sweatpants and an old sweatshirt, Jack lying on top of you after falling asleep to a cartoon. And especially the way your voice was monotone, completely different from the way you held up a quiet conversation after being sent home because you had a concussion.
“Garcia-“
Penelope stood up the second she heard Hotch’s voice. Tears welled in her eyes, shining brightly against the different colored lights in her cave. “Sir, it’s about y/n. I- I didn’t mean to snoop, but she’s just been so distant lately and ever since that case, she hasn’t gone out with me, Emily, J.J., or even Spencer! I’m really sorry-“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Garcia. Slow down. What happened?” Aaron asked. He felt bile rise in his throat. He had a gut feeling that whatever the bubbly blonde woman had to say wouldn’t be good. He swallowed.
Penelope harshly wiped the tears off her face. She looked down and then back up, clearly distraught about the news. “Y/n applied to another job… and got accepted.”
🏷️: @zaddyhotch @jazzimac1967 @polireader @magical-spit @angelmather1 @pettydonuts @aremuslupinsimp
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thatmexisaurusrex · 3 months
Text
What if Tommy had a box? A little box, maybe a shoe box or maybe even a cigar box, of things of his mother's. He talks about how terrible his father was, but what if his mother left? What if she left and didn't feel safe enough to take Tommy with her? Or that she didn't feel like she could support him? Or that she was broken and the only way to survive was to leave, even if she had to break her own heart and leave Tommy behind?
And Tommy has a box of her.
She's out there somewhere. Tommy hasn't looked her up. He's scared to. He has his father's name. He knows what his father was like. He doesn't want to find her if there's a possibility that seeing him might bring back all that trauma for her. He doesn't want to find her in case someone catches wind of where she is; if his father somehow finds where she is because he went in search of her.
But he has this box.
It's not a big box. As I said before, maybe a shoebox or an old cigar box. It has her name on it.
And when Buck finds it in Tommy's closet while helping Tommy clean his house, he gets curious and asks Tommy about it.
And.
And Tommy sees that box.
And he smiles.
And he sits down on his bed. And he pats the space next to him. And Evan sits there with the box and hands it to Tommy. And Tommy tells Evan fondly, "This is all that I have left of my mom."
And he opens the box. Maybe he pulls off the lid. Maybe he unlatches the top. But he opens it and what he has is basically nothing.
It was whatever he could save from his father when his dad trashed, burned, and dumped anything that had to do with Tommy's mother. It was a photo or two of his mother when they were young - maybe a small Tommy, a little big for his age even then, posing on a peer with a mother who looked like him.
Same chestnut brown curly hair, if a little golden from the sun, if a little longer. Same blue eyes. Same tall build. Even some of the angles of the face reflect in Tommy's. Same crinkle-nosed smile, even. Hugging Tommy as they laughed together.
Another photo was of them hiking somewhere. His mother helping a little, chunky toddler Tommy walk over a small stream.
There were little notes - "I love you" and "Have a good day" and "Miss you, Tomcat". Things Evan had only seen in other people's lunches - little lunch notes.
There was some sort of decoder ring from a cereal that Buck couldn't place, and Tommy confessed he didn't really remember why the ring was in there, but he knew it was important.
There was a lighter - the one his mother used despite the fact that his mom kept telling Tommy she was going to quit, she swore she would.
And there was a bigger note.
A goodbye.
I wish I could take you. I wish I was braver. I wish I was stronger. I love you, Tomcat. One day, I'll come get you. I want to. Be a good boy for me.
Mama
Tommy was maybe five when she left. She never came back. Tommy didn't feel like he held up to that standard of "Good Boy" while she was gone - he found himself increasingly becoming what he hated out of survival in that home with his father. At work in the army. At the station with Gerrard.
Tommy wasn't sure he felt up to that standard even now.
But his mom had been a coward.
She had left him.
And he still loved her.
So, maybe she'd still love him despite needing to unlearn a lot of terrible things; needing to work on himself to get back to being someone he liked; someone he felt proud of, even if that pride felt fleeting most of the time.
Buck doesn't ask Tommy if he wants to reach out to her. He sees this strange reflection of a box and talks about the baby boxes his sister has and Daniel has, but he doesn't. Not with his parents, at least. His baby box is the postcards he sent to his sister for seven, eight years.
And he couldn't send them to her at her house for fear of Doug finding them and tossing them out.
And he didn't interact with her much outside of that despite wanting to talk to her every day because he didn't want Doug to find out and hurt her.
But he was at least able to send her those cards.
And they both sit there.
With the box full of sparse memories.
With the heaviness of love still so vividly alive even without much contact, if any.
And maybe Evan puts a hand on Tommy's shoulder and pulls him close.
And maybe Tommy rests his head on Evan's shoulder.
And maybe Evan leans his head on Tommy's.
And Evan tells Tommy that he hopes it's safe for her to reach out someday.
And Tommy says he hopes so too.
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writingsofwesteros · 30 days
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#father’s son
Daemon who walks to his son’s chambers on Runestone to talk with him, only to see the small family laughing and playing together in the room. Baelon is only in loose trousers running after a squealing Aenar, his hair messy and curling everywhere. It’s clear he’s just woken up. The father and son appear to be playing a game of tag, though the little boy has no chance of outrunning his 6’2 father. Daemon watches as his grandson runs right over to his good daughter, the girl sitting in a chair by the fireplace. The light from the fire lights up her face so beautifully and he can’t help but admire the way the silky nightgown she wears highlights her belly so well. He wouldn’t be surprised if she gave birth in the next week or two. The Lady of Runestone lets her son climb into her arms as she wraps him up protectively inside her robe. Baelon plays along, pausing in front of the pair.
“Oh no! However will I get to the young lord now?”
Aenar giggles under the robe as his mother smiles up at her husband.
“You may not have him. He is mine! You will have to find another little boy to steal.”
The parents grin as the boy squeals in glee against his mother’s bosom. All watch as Aenar peeks his silver haired head out to smile at his father, his chubby cheeks pulled into a grin.
“Mama will protect me!”
Daemon can’t help but watch as the boy clings to his mother tightly as Baelon pulls her to stand. Little Aenar reaches for his father quickly however, and soon he is sat on his father’s shoulders.
“And I too will protect you and your little brother or sister, my boy,” Baelon states firmly. Daemon can see how much love his son has for his family and he can’t help but grimace - to him, love was a weakness. “What do you think it will be Aenar? A boy or girl?”
“Boy! Mama has a boy in her belly!”
Daemon slowly slinks away as the family continue to talk, not wishing to see anymore. He begins to feel some guilt at never knowing his son but swiftly pushes it down. He was only here for Runestone’s army and his son’s dragon - nothing more and nothing less. He resolves to not leave until he gets both those things, not knowing his son is just as stubborn as he is.
THEY ARE THE CUTEST! I CANT DEAL
The idea of him hiding with his mama, he's so precious.
They are just a lovely family and Daemon needs to go away thank you very much.
The little boy feels so big on top of his father's shoulders as his mama looks up at him. They are soon moving towards the untouched food and drink the servants had placed down
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