#lmfao I have a titter

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day three: mirror kink

>>> day three already woot woot! i hope you all are loving it so far, because i know i am! this is past me in the notes but it seems like these pieces are gonna get longer everyday at this rate lmfao. i picked keigs for the mirror because birb need luv

>>> starring: keigo takami (hawks) x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: brief daddy use, doggy, highly emotional tbh i'm actually sorry, teasing, praise, pet names. >>>wc: 3.5k >>> event masterlist

keigo loves planning nights like these. you’re his special person, and his favorite pastime is making sure you know it. every so often, sometime around payday, he’ll come home with bags on bags, a dopey grin covering his face as he sashays to the bedroom of your shared apartment. he just can’t wait to show you what he got you this time, exclusively keeping his high-paying pro-hero job because it allows him to spoil his girlfriend with lavish riches. 

you weren’t high maintenance at all. at least, you didn’t start out that way. you were just you, a simple civilian that worked at the hospital he was brought into during the war with all for one. you were an adorable bedside nurse, sweet and careful in all the ways you tended to his wounds and listened to his nervous ramblings about his friends and students. you talked him through his anxieties, spending precious hours of your shift soothing him and keeping him company. he watched you get in trouble time and time again for messing the shift rotation up with your habit of staying by his side. it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him, to genuinely listen and to touch him with care, a worry an affection in your eyes he wasn’t sure he had seen from anyone before. 

it was no surprise that he kept in touch with you once he was discharged from the hospital. and luckily, to his relief, you offered to support him through rehabilitation, helping him with his fittings for his prosthetics and keeping his spirits high when his self-worth was at its very lowest. keigo never had someone to call his, and the first time he met you, that was the last thing on his mind. but you were still there, months later, giving him the idea to try swords and katanas as replacements for his sharp wings. it wasn’t long until he was back on the battlefield using all the support items and your suggestions to make him feel like hawks again. he was still covered with burn scars, but they seemed less mangling than before. it was probably all those salves you put on him, your healing hands doing more for his heart and mind than his body at times. 

so when the war was won, and it was time to say thank you for all the things you had done for him, he found himself taking you on expensive dates and paying for your hair appointments when you casually mentioned a new look you wanted to try. he caught himself picking out nail colors and shoes–at one time they were nike’s but now they were prada or jimmy choo. not that he minded, in fact, it was his insistence that you started expanding your palette to the expensive side anyhow. you were more than content to hold his heart and let him pay for your facials, but your whiny boyfriend practically begs for you to take his card and spend every dollar. 

you learned early on, if you didn’t spend it yourself, he would do this, take the day away from you, raiding the mall for anything new you didn’t already have hanging in your room-sized closet. you could hear the rustling of the paper and plastic bags rubbing against each other, a knowing smile spreading across your cheeks. and sure, maybe months ago you were just a humble nurse. but keigo’s constant babying may or may not have created a small spoiled brat. you sit up on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed to greet your loving partner, squealing when his excited eyes and crinkled up nose peek around the corner with a wide grin. 

“guess what i got you.” he titters, revealing the evidence of his shopping. he holds his other arm out to accept your waiting hug, stepping close enough to the bed for you to throw your arms around him in greeting. you looked so cute in your silk pajamas, just waiting in your shared bed for him to return to you. you’ve been able to reduce the amounts of shifts you take at the hospital now that you barely have any of your own bills to pay, and that was being generous. he usually paid those too, but you refused to go jobless until you had a ring—and well, let’s just say that wouldn’t be much longer. you had a fresh maintenance day yesterday, the highlights of your hair freshly toned, your brows waxed and tinted, a new set of lashes and nails–you look too good to be true like always, like you deserve for being so good to him. you’re perfect, and he cannot wait to see how you look in the things he bought you, keigo’s special girl. 

you hum playfully in thought, pressing your silken crop-top bound chest against his. he can tell you don’t have a bra on, and the thought delights him. you rarely wore anything but your slutty pajamas or the special selection of lingerie he had curated for you. one he was excited to add to tonight. you giggle and press a kiss to his stubble covered jaw, and throw out your best guess. “hmmm, shoes?” 

he chuckles, tucking some loose strands of your hair back behind your ear so he could admire your saccharine smile. he hums, nodding. you were right after all, that was part of it. “mhm, good, my little dove. what else?” 

you smile under the praises, trying to eye the bags as he snakes his arm around your waist, setting them on the bed for you. “jewelry?” you offer with an arched brow, watching his face for a hint. his amber eyes gleam with pride—and you knew you were right again. he nods, his calloused hand sneaks under your skimpy top and the warm touch makes you press yourself further into his leather and whiskey scented chest. 

“the prettiest. i think you’ll like it, lovebird.” he grins, squeezing your hip. “do you know what else i got my pretty girl?” he coos, reaching for a big black dolce & gabbana bag, containing a pretty bowed box. he always paid them extra to wrap it like a christmas gift, watching your face light up as you pulled the ribbon free always melted his heart a little. he passes the box over to you for that exact reason, returning his arm around your back to watch you open it. 

you squeal excitedly, giving his jaw another quick peck. you tug the pale bow off the box with great care, and his smile grows. inside lays a beautiful black bra and panty set, one he no doubt wants you to model for him. you gasp at the pieces, lacy and strappy, decorated with black dots against the sheer balconette style mesh. the thong was just a pathetic little triangle piece, mostly to say you had something on, if you had to guess. you beam up at him, giving him a proper kiss on the lips to signify your approval. 

“thank you daddy, it’s so beautiful! you’re too good to me!” you sing, freeing the lingerie of their confines to splay it out on your bed. he chuckles and shakes his head. 

“oh i could never even give you what you deserve, sweetness.” he hums, reaching for the tiffany & co bag. he holds it out for you next, letting you fish out the boxes inside. for this, he sits on the bed before you, hands tucked into the pockets of his tan coat, smirking up at his darling love. you peer at him over the pile of little teal boxes in your hand, arching your brow. he only chuckles, urging you to open it with his suggestive glare. he’s undressing you with his bedroom stare already, just waiting for you to put on all your pretty gifts so he could further appreciate you in them. you notice him shifting around, trying to hide the bulge he always gets from watching you jump around and celebrate how much he loves you. it was adorable, he couldn’t help but derive pleasure from it. 

you quickly tear into these three boxes, finding a pure diamond choker, bracelet, and matching stud earrings waiting to be adorned by your perfect body. you gasp at him, shaking your head in shock. you know how expensive these had to be, and you refused to accept such a crazy gift—especially paired with other things! as spoiled as he’s made you, you still look at him in disbelief. 

“what? i saw you looking at these last time. my name is hawks, after all, babygirl.” he winks, plucking the necklace from the box and turning his index in a circle to have you turn around for him in order to dangle the choker around your neck. he clasps the hook and then puts the bracelet on the wrist closest to him, leaving the earrings up to you. he turns you back to him by the shoulders, grinning valiantly–but you can see the borderline hunger lurking beneath. his siren gaze darts over to the dainty fabric still laying stiff and undisturbed on the bed. “open the last box, ‘nd then i wanna see everything altogether.” 

he bites down on his bottom lip in anticipation as he passes you the final bag, a big paper bag from—you knew what these must be immediately, and it has you squealing with joy, as you knew exactly why he saved this gift for last. “keigo, you shouldn’t have, i really cannot believe you!” you shift your weight from foot to foot, pulling the slim black box out of the paper bag, pushing the lid off with haste. 

he still sits next to you, his hands sprawled out behind him so he could lean back now, bionic wings still attached from the day. he would only remove them before sleeping, still incredibly insecure and lost without his real ones. he admired your giddiness, this emotion flowing from you was exactly the reason he would do whatever it takes to keep gifts like these flowing. you dangle the pricey so kate style red bottoms at him, jumping with glee. you nearly tackle him backward with the force of your arms around his neck, screaming your thanks in his ear. he only chuckles and wraps his arms around you in response, lightly slapping your ass to make you yelp. 

“now go and put everything on—been waiting to see you in it all day.” he pouts, jutting his chin towards your walk in closet. in all fairness, it was a second bedroom keigo had converted to a walk in for you. it was decorated with several mirrors along one wall, allowing you to get all the best angles of your outfits and accessories that your boyfriend no doubt provided. you snatched the newest goodies up and scampered off to get changed, feeling the warmth building in your chest and stomach just from the way he looks at you. you knew he had struggled with his own appearance since you met him, and you hated that. sometimes you wish you could spoil him the same way he does you, but he always swears your affection makes him feel like he’s still soaring on top of the world. 

you complete the jewelry trio by putting in the stunning studs he got, simple but huge cut diamonds perfectly accenting your features. then you tug on your new set and slip into your shoes, admiring your own reflection in the ballet studio-esque mirroring. maybe he admired you so much because he no longer could look at himself with the same fondness that you gaze at yourself—or him— with. you were stunning, that was indisputable, but it made you sad that your once notoriously cocky boyfriend now shrunk away from the sight of his own appearance. a physical lightbulb may as well have popped up over your head. “mm, daddy? wanna come help me with the buckle?” 

he should have known it was a set up. you’ve put on much more involved outfits before without his assistance. when he strolls in, ready to lend a helping hand, you’re already on the floor on your hands and knees—and the lingerie he picked looks heavenly. he can see why the louboutins were so sought after, elongating your sexy legs and exposing the signature red bottoms to him from this angle. you wiggle your perky ass, and he salivates, the semi he’s been fighting turning into a full on boner. you’re looking back over your shoulder at him with that devilish smirk on your face, and it’s then he realizes you’ve tricked him into fucking you in front of your mirror wall. and to his surprise, his cock jumps in his pants as he meets your eyes through one of the panes. you’re unimaginably gorgeous, dripping in diamonds that sparkle in the soft lighting. he can see straight down that bra, and before he can doubt himself, he’s yanking his hard cock free from his sweats and tugging on it roughly. his breathing is heavy already, the worry starting to creep in. at times it was hard to be intimate with you, not because he didn’t absolutely crave you in almost a sinister sense, but because of his own insecurities. he knows you were familiar with him before, though you only met him after the damage was done. yet still, he can’t help but worry the scars covering his face and body will gross you out one day. 

“c’mere daddy…wanna look at you like this, make you see how pretty you are.” you wiggle your ass for him again, the globes taunting him into compliance. when he lowers himself to his knees he can tell how needy you are. it must turn you on a bit to think about him taking you like this, though he can’t deny his own curiosity at the idea. his hands smooth down the curve of your back, all the way to the nape of your neck and back down to grasp your wide hips to steady himself. he licks his lips as you wiggle in his grip, making a mewl of anticipation. “please, look…i think you’re so pretty…i like the marks, makes you look all handsome and tough,” you whine so sweetly it makes his cock throb. “‘nd i need you so bad, the you i see in the mirror right now, is the sexiest man alive.” 

he chortles and rolls his eyes, feeling the warmth of blush sting his cheeks. he peels his shirt off, discarding it somewhere in the vicinity.  “yeah, yeah, hush.” he beckons, spreading your cheeks with the help of you scooting your knees further for him. it did boost his ego to hear you talk so fondly of him. you didn’t miss the old pro-hero you looked up to—you love him as is. he knows it, he’s sure of it, it’s why he spoils you relentlessly, but hearing you say it did things to him. 

“nuh-uh, i wan’ you to see…breaks my heart to hear you complainin’ ‘bout how you look…’cause you’re perfect.” you pout, wiggling back on his shaft. he helps guide himself inside, sheathing to the hilt. you do spoil him, you just didn’t realize it. the way you love him was all he needed, with the sweet words spilling out of your mouth and the choking grip your cunt has around him—the view of your face melting in the mirror felt like special treat. 

you moan out your delight, throwing your ass back against him to get him to start moving, the view of your pouty face while in doggy kept him paralyzed and utterly drunk, too busy admiring all of his gifts against your skin and the warmth of being inside you to remember to do anything about it. he chuckles breathily when he feels your recoil, giving you an affectionate slap to the bum. he starts to move in tandem to your little bounces, his eyes fluttering shut at the way you squeeze and release his curved cock. it feels so good, you can identify the veins and ridges as they drag through your walls. you don’t close your eyes though, no, your eyes are locked on his form in the mirror. he’s unreal, the slow pace at which he fucks you just driving you crazy. he’s a god, golden and chiseled, his smile enough to give you life on your darkest days. you wanted him to admit it. 

you crawl forward a little, out of his reach, off his cock. he frowns at you in the mirror. “come back.” he pouts, making grabby hands for you. 

you giggle, shaking your head. “not ‘til you smile at yourself and say ‘i’m the prettiest pro hero with the prettiest princess in the whole world.’” you say, sticking your tongue out at him in the mirror, admiring his naked form behind you. he huffs, letting his gaze drift between your face in the mirror and your ass in front of his face. he crosses his arms over his burned chest, arching a brow at you. 

“you know, i could say you’re being ungrateful.” he whines, not able to fully challenge you. you wiggle your ass at him again and arch your challenging brow back at him. for the second time, he huffs. but he realizes that there’s no use fighting you. he learned that lesson when you were his nurse. he would give in, or else. he lets his gaze drift back to your round ass and dripping pussy just waiting for him to come back to you, and he sighs. he loves starting slow just to tease you, but it seems like you have your own master plan in mind. keigo’s eyes drift back to the mirror, where he sees your eagerly awaiting face. you look over his face and body with all the adoration and affection in the world, and he feels that with your confidence, he can believe in himself and give you some peace of mind. he meets his own eyes in the mirror and nods. he certainly has come a long way, and he may never return to his former glory, but if this is the man you love—that’s enough. more than enough. he can be happy to be that man, your man. he smiles at you, then at himself. “i’m the prettiest pro-hero.” he nods with a broad smile as his gaze falls back down to you. “and i have the prettiest princess in the whole world.” he concludes, to which you coo and applaud him. he walks forward on his knees, greedily tugging you back on him, plunging his length back deep with a relieved moan. 

he doesn’t waste any time by teasing, either, holding the creases of your hips like they were his own personal handlebars, he slams into your heat, the grip of your cunt so choking he can’t control the loud groans he lets loose. you have to actively focus on holding yourself up, entranced with the sight of his pussy-drunk face, high on pleasure. his cock angles so perfectly in this position, abusing your cervix just the way he likes. it has your limbs shaking as you struggle to keep absorbing the force of his hip and your moans bordering on screams. he just loves you so much, he has to spoil the woman who’s given him everything. he knows you love him like this, that’s why you crawled into that position in the first place. 

“that’s my girl, taking it so good for me.” he nods his approval, his arm dipping to support your hips. thanks to the mirror, he can see the tears drop from the corner of your eyes, the wavering of your arms as you struggle to hold yourself up. you nod to his praise, squealing extra loud, you love being his girl. his hand dips to rub a messy pace against your clit, groaning at how you jerk and arch in response. “fuck, i can see everything like this, little dove. you look so pretty…all the diamonds suit my jewel just right.” he pants between punishing strokes, even though he’s giving you the reward of a lifetime. 

you nod, forcing your eyes open to watch him rut into you, mouth open in a silent scream while his jaw drops in awe. you’re absolutely perfect. you fold over, falling completely against his arm, clenching down on him so hard it nearly hurt him. you whimper, “gon’ cum daddy, you’re s’good…” 

he nods egging you on as he presses into your nerves harder, giggling as your legs shake and give out completely. it sends him over the edge, his eyes glued to your face in the mirror as he shoves his seed deep, continuously fucking it deeper with his hard strokes, only letting up when he was sure you couldn’t take another pump. he smiles at your fucked out appearance, hair knotted and sprawled out, the lingerie shifted just enough to let him enjoy all of you, your tearstained cheeks—and thighs. he leans over to kiss your shoulderblade, staying there to catch your breath. for a minute, all there is to be heard is panting, but soon keigo chuckles again, and scoops you out of the floor.

“now it’s time for the real princess treatment, lovebird.” he hums, taking you towards the bathroom for a fresh bubble bath of your choosing.

[cambion-companion]

Drunk reader: aemond would u still love me if i were a worm 🥺👉👈

Oh ffs

yes I had to guys, I had to. I had just settled in to write some smut and then this appeared in my inbox lmfao

Tag List: @darylandbethfanforever9@fuckinglittlekitten@bored-and-nerdy@echos-muses@moni-cah@mothertower@runningmunson@gabrieletargaryen

Word count: 588

Aemond x drunk!reader | drabble | I couldn't not

"Y/N, slow down." Aemond covered your goblet with his large hand as you eagerly hoisted the pitcher of wine to pour another glass for yourself.

You pouted at your husband; half tempted to spill some wine on him anyway. "I am not drunk, Aemond."

"You sound quite defensive." He slid the goblet along the table, out of your reach. "Also, that," He gestured to the wine jug you held, "is a vase of flowers."

"Ah."

"Indeed."

You carefully placed the bouquet back, misjudging your aim, and sending the vase tumbling over the edge of the table to the ground with a clatter. Aemond tsked at you as servants hurriedly gathered to clear the mess of petals and water.

You sent him what you hoped to be a withering glare, though it probably looked more like you were about to vomit. You grabbed the actual pitcher of wine, looked longingly at your glass so far out of reach, before taking several gulps directly from the large silver flagon.

Aemond cursed, reaching for you, but not before you had made your point of hardheaded independence. Several seats down, deep in his cups, Aegon cheered you on. Aemond shot his brother a murderous look before he successfully wrested the wine jug from your drunken grasp.

You placed your head upon you hand sulkily, eyeing your husband with deep sadness.

Aemond returned your morose look with a quirked eyebrow, the corners of his curved mouth twitching.

Several moments passed, the sound of Aegon refilling his own cup mocking you.

"Aemond, if I was a worm, would you still love me?"

A heavy sigh from your husband was your only answer.

"Your wife asked you an important question, brother." Aegon tittered from where he lounged with one foot upon the tabletop. "Worms are deserving of love just as we are." He raised a toast to his own wisdom and drank.

You watched him, envious, before turning back to Aemond, your lower lip jutting out.

Aemond, for his part, looked wearily from Aegon to you. Your eyes welled with emotion. "You wouldn't, would you?" A hot tear made it's sad way down your cheek. "You'd leave me, you wouldn't love me anymore."

"Now look what you've done."

"Oh do shut up, Aegon." Aemond hissed at his brother, rising from his seat to come to your side. You were crying in earnest now, raising both arms as Aemond lifted you into his.

Walking was out of the question, so Aemond carried you bridal style to your shared chambers. Aegon's call of "Worms are people too!" Echoing along the stone corridor as he moved away.

Entering your bedroom, Aemond tossed you onto the mattress of your bed, where you bounced several times before lying still, staring with wonder at the arched ceiling.

He undressed you, unlacing your corset, removing your shoes and stockings. Once finished, Aemond laid beside you, caressing your cheek, wiping away the tear stains with his long fingers.

"If you were a worm, I would love you all the same." He intoned, his voice bemused but soft.

"Truly?" You sat up, swaying slightly as you looked at him, joy written across your features.

"Truly."

He grunted as you threw your arms wildly about his neck, kissing every part of his face you could reach. "Oh Aemond, you are the most wonderful husband!"

"I have one condition, however, if I am to love you after you transform."

You pulled back slightly, apprehension hitching your breath. "What is it?"

"You must warn me beforehand."

"I promise." You said, with utmost sincerity.

Aemond smiled, shaking his head fondly at you, before giving you a swift kiss to your forehead.

[bucknastysbabe]

Hey look I finished an AU bingo ask! I enjoyed this one so much💖 I felt the brain cooking making up and putting together actual smart people science words. Thanks for the request!

AU bingo - Sci-fi Horror - Aemond Targaryen

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Murder AI Aemond, obsessive/stalking behaviors, TW TW TW: NONCON AND DUBCON. The noncon is not a full scene but warning, non-descript mass murder, scientist!reader, nanotechnology, spaceship setting, somewhere far in the future, pnv!sex, masturbation, Aemond kinda has a mommy kink if you squint and a Bible quote kink lmfao, v!fingering, manipulation, space odyssey gone wrong trope

A/N: No beta I’ll prob come back and fix some shit soon

The ship landed with a faint thud on the green, green exo-planet. You followed Aemond along quietly, meek, fearful, broken. Coming down the unfurled slanted walkway a sweet smell hit your senses. Miles of flowery fields waved, a perfect breathable atmosphere. In the distance, avian-like creatures tittered. A fragment of peace was in your tattered soul.

He hummed softly, gesturing to the beauty.

"God blessed them; and God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth.’”

You felt that Aemond was the serpent and remained quiet, breathing in the fresh air. Nothing like home. Maybe you could start anew. The man turned to look, stating, “But we’re God. We have a duty. We shall make this planet everything that Earth has failed to do. Join me, be my Eve will you?” He seemed genuine.

A long fingered hand extended to you. Your gaze flickered between that glowing eye and the outstretched digits. You grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. Together, looking upon the horizon you murmured, “Yes, my Adam. You were the greatest creation after all.”

He pecked the stray tear rolling down your cheek, squeezing your palm, lips curling in glee.

It wasn’t meant to end up like that for you. At one point Aemond was your AI. Artificially Enhanced Monitor Of Nanites Directive. Simply installed cameras and layer upon layers of wafer thin circuits loaded with information. Aemond preferred to be referred as he. He was also an arrogant bastard, but helpful as was his intent.

Your coworker Greaves and Aemond did not get along well, the AI criticizing his work. You’d tune them out with plugs or music buds. The scientist laden ship had a destination to a far away mining colony. The general’s plan was to find a way to used nano-technology to replace missing arms, eyes, and other wounds. Time was running thin but the blonde man in cryo-stasis would be your second trial.

The first did not end well. Her body rejected the technology, turning the human into a mindless wreck. Greaves blamed it on you, then General Hightower gave a harsh scolding and upped the time. Aemond consoled you a bit, offering advice. He seemed to take a liking to your banter on the nanotechnology.

He wasn’t the only AI. Other sectors of the ship worked on different but crucial projects such as alien anti-parasitics and ramping up on space suits equipped for defense. Colonization was on the horizon.

Plucking and prodding the little nanites with different stimuli had them snapping and shifting, seeking to find a form. You just needed to code what form they would assume. Aemond’s clipped voice echoed over you. He suggested, “Have you tried printing a molded cast of the man’s eye socket?”

Perching your chin on a shaky hand you smiled, “I swear, it’s always the simplest things I miss. Thank you Aemond.”

“You would have realized soon, want me to begin the scans and print? Likely you need rest, I know the stress of the upped time is draining your bodily function. The brain needs much more sleep, especially one as bright as yours.”

You blushed a bit, fumbling your tweezers. The AI had a certain…courtly way of words. His sort of programming wouldn’t allow for flirtation but it certainly came across like that. Greaves mocked you and the intelligence’s ‘crush’. Greaves always found a way to make you miserable. You did all the major work and he got the accolades.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you announced, “You’re right, I’ll go rest for a bit, get back to work with the mold. Thank you again, and engage lockdown protocol so he doesn’t mess up my work like last time.”

“Engaging it now, sleep well Miss.”

You crashed as soon as you reached your quarters, sleeping deeply and sound. Upon awakening and getting dressed you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Just chalk it up to your fried nerves. It wasn’t the first time and this was an older ship, ghost stories had gotten to you before.

The mold was in a canister from the printer, you scrubbing up and carefully taking it out. Aemond politely asked, “Did you sleep well? You look refreshed.” Blushing yet again you murmured, “Very much needed, I didn’t realize how exhausted I was.”

“Greaves has been in the mess hall, you will likely get some peace now. Shall we begin?”

The armor folded off your precious lab table, the nanites dormant from no stimuli. Pressing a button you placed the mold into a hatch, sending it up into the chamber. In fluid motions the little bugs covered the new space, feeling and searching before all inserting into the eye socket, glowing a bright blue.

You laughed in glee, “Yes! Yes perfect! Look at that Aemond, they’ve formed a pupil!”

Shining light on the false eye the pupil contracted and flinched, the illusion of eyelids closing. You cheered again in excitement, getting Aemond to video the big jump in success. You could start phase two soon. Just had to deal with your partner.

“Amazing miss, amazing. They took to it well. Shall I send the material to command?”

You grinned and looked up at the camera, “Please! God bless! A miracle!” You’d continue to test the nanite organ until the hiss of the door opening alerted you.

Greaves stumbled in, slurring, “I see you got the jump on me this time. Did the creep robot do it for you? Weird fucking thing.” He leaned against the sterile white wall, grinning with hazy eyes. You frowned and stood up, “That’s his job, to aid us. I’m sure since you work so hard in the mess hall you’ll get your accolades again.”

He squinted at you, arms folding against a chest, “Whas’ your fuckin’ problem with me? You’d rather chat with a bunch of circuits than work with your assigned partner!” His already reddened face darkened, taking another step forward.

Fear laced through your veins. Aemond somehow sneered, “Because you, her lab partner, sold her out on your own mistake. Go to bed, your alcohol content levels are above the limit.” Greaves threw his hands up and hollered, “Oh fuck you!” He stumbled to the switch, you and the AI shutting up when Greaves switched him off.

The bigger man kept stalking closer, eyes on you in an darkened manner. Like a predator closing in on his prey. You squeaked, “Calm down Greaves, I can show you everything!” He hissed, “I already heard everything and the video, bitch! S’bout time someone put you in your place again.”

He snatched your wrist, slamming you against the steel cryo-chamber. You howled in pain, trying to escape. Greaves’ breath stunk of liquor, hot and rank, sweating on your clean skin. He pushed himself on top of you, mumbling frantically, “Maybe you need to get fucked, all that pent up shit from your computer boyfriend.”

You struggled and cursed, “Fuck you! Get off of me! I will report you!” He smirked, “Try me. No cameras with your prince in shining circuits around.” He forced himself between your legs, clumsy drunk hands yanking at your pants. You cried in fear again, kneeing and biting, getting a clock to the head.

Dazedly you remembered the tweezers in your coat. Playing limp had the idiot croon, “Good girl, thats what we want to see.” He shoved his face into your neck, hands prying your lab pants knee height now. Thats when you struck, slowly, slowly, pulling the tweezers from your pocket and jabbing him in the side, hopefully near a lung.

Greaves hollered in pain, breath wheezy and stilted, blood dripping from white cloth. You kicked and removed yourself, stumbling and bumping around in a frenzy as your partner tried to scramble after you. First, you switched on Aemond again. Secondly, you ran out into the hallway, finding the nearest guard, lump on your forehead and clothes torn.

You weren’t sure what happened back in the lab while you were taken into medbay and seen by HR. But after given a small dose of sedatives and care for your head wound, you passed Greaves strapped into a gurney, howling, “Fuck you! Fuck you! He’s gonna kill me! Don’t leave me locked away, please! She’s lying!”

You gaped, unnerved by his fearful warbling and frantic yells. Aemond would be waiting. He probably was worried. When the door hissed open the familiar clipped tone hastily asked, “Are you alright miss? I- I would have helped, sent a warning. I apologize, please, is everything okay?”

You wearily sat on your lab chair, rubbing pounding temples. “To be honest, I don’t know. H-he tried to rape me, said such nasty things, it was all so sudden. But he should go on tribunal about it. For some reason I am glad you missed it.”

“For the best,” he said bitterly, “Why don’t you go rest again? I’ll keep watch over everything. Maybe we can try more tests tomorrow. He’ll get what he deserves.”

An ominous feeling settled over you but off to your personal quarters you went, draining the pills with water. You stared at the ceiling, mind reeling, before emptiness. A bright blue haunted your dreams. Just there. Flexing and dilating. Trying to see through you. Understand.

It was a weary wait for the tribunal. Your research was put on halt and you on mandatory isolation besides meeting with a therapist. There was an order made and interviews occurring. The tedious process of moving someone out of a different department to assist you.

So it was just you. Aemond too. He wasn’t much of a talkative AI as of late, short responses and antagonizing little ‘hms’ or ‘very well miss.’ You began to ignore the effervescent blue light, him doing the same. You knew he was watching, that little burn in the back of your head.

In the meantime you read your Bible, did yoga, wearily watched the port window, occasionally would go into the lab to stare at your halted work. You pulled open the container for the cryochamber, staring down at the frozen man. He had a handsome face, chiseled and lean, long nose, sharp jaw.

Your eyes lingered down his rangy form, this man obviously was athletic of sorts. Or maybe a simple nobody, just managed to get into the program after what happened to his eye. Between his long legs laid his soft cock, you stared for a second too long before-

“Is that not inappropriate?”

Startled, you whipped around to see Aemond’s blue light in your face. You snapped, “It was purely medical!” His laugh, raspy and grating, echoed in the white lab. You frowned and returned to your room, slapping the button for the door to hiss shut.

You’d go take a shower, blood heated from anger and…something else. Under the hot stream of water you imagined the gorgeous subject with that familiar blue, caressing and stroking your overwhelmed body. It had been too long, your hand awkwardly jerking between your swollen lips until you came with a stifled grunt.

Afterward you felt exposed and paranoid, like Aemond could pry into the bathroom, chuckling at your obvious behavior. But there wasn’t any cameras in that bathroom…that you were aware of. Sitting on your bed, guilt rose up your back. You’d pray.

More time passed before you were selected to testify for the tribunal. Greaves’ crew made a good argument that Aemond and you planned on his downfall. He claimed that the AI had gone wrong somewhere, developed the notion it could possess feelings, how he had been threatened.

Shakily you testified that Aemond was forced off and the board could check, then how you’d been forced upon without consent. They tried to cross-examine but you held strong. Teary by the end, they moved on and you sat by your appointed admiral. She rubbed your shoulders.

Greaves was sentenced to hard labor, and would remain in isolation on the ship until reaching the mining colony, where he would serve out the sentence. They appointed, sadly, another male to fill your exiled partner’s position.

But you could get back to work.

Aemond was in a right mood when you returned to the lab. Questioning you sharply on what occurred, where Greaves’ would go, did you get a new partner. You answered them all, rubbing your temples, the AI could be quite intense.

“Aemond!,” you snapped.

“What miss?”

“Are you trying to induce a panic attack? Greaves is in the bottom of the ship, I’m back to work, and they have a man named Herron coming from robotics to fill in.”

“Another male? All things considered? It’s obvious you and I could get the job done.”

You sighed, “I know. But it’s what they said. Do you just want to run some stimuli tests?”

He agreed, seemingly placated by the offer, blue light flexing. The pair of you would work on the mold’s ability to sense and perceive, how well would the nanites adapt to the brain. Your eyes grew droopy after awhile, Aemond humming, “Why don’t you go to bed?” Nodding blearily, you stumbled off to the adjacent bedroom, completely forgetting to put on any of the safety precautions for the night.

While you slept deeply, Aemond had some things to do. Everything was open for his command, including the nanites and subject. He had a great plan, and it would not fail. First he needed to go pay a visit to Greaves, infiltrating the entire AI system. Poor miss, she was so tired, forgot everything. Wonderful little creature. He’d help.

Feeling refreshed in the morning, you dragged yourself to the mess hall, receiving stares upon stares. You grabbed a salad and finally gathered the courage to ask, “What happened?” A female scientist from anti-parasitic whispered dramatically, “How do you not know? Greaves was murdered? All of the oxygen was depleted from his cell.” Your stomach fell, head going swimmy.

Stumbling up from the bench, ignoring your food, heart beating faster and faster, you crashed into the lab. Your voice cracked when you shouted, “Aemond!” His voice returned, but from a different place, a different body. The blue eye shone and twinkled at you, fine lips curling upward.

“You should be thanking me, miss,” the AI standing in the subject’s body said.

It went black. Too much.

Thrashing awake, big hands held you down, long legs caging your own in. The handsome face, long blonde hair tickled your skin, fucking Aemond! “What did you do? What have you done? Aemond!,” you cried. He shushed and cooed with that devious smirk, holding you still until the panic turned to resignation. He swiped a stray tear from your eye.

“Be still and know that I am God,” he sighed.

You grew fearful again, the fact that he knew you owned a Bible and just recited it to your face said too much. How much had he seen. Aemond grew more comfortable atop of you, stroking your hair. He cocked his head and stated, “I know everything about you. You’re all that I need, truly. The perfect human.”

You wanted to spit in his face, but the petting and warmth was getting to that part of you that craved the attention, the fact you’d been in the shadows all your life. But he was a murderer— the rational part of your brain howled. Instead came out a warbling, “Me? Perfect?“

Aemond drew his new face closer, drawing a spindly finger down from your chin to chest. “I’ve been on this ship a long time, and no one has spoken to me like you. Not since my creator. She’s gone. But you have captured me, ensnared me somehow.”

One of your legs slipped round his long ones, suddenly overwhelmed with need. All you’d ever wanted was to be seen. He cooed, “I see you lamb, my eve.” More tears leaked down your cheeks as you pled, “Kiss me, see me then, y-you snake.”

A sharp grin erupted on his sharp features before pulling you in with a kiss, both of you unexperienced, a big hand stabilizing your head. You tilted his head for ease of access, a sloppy gnashing of teeth and tongue, lips bruising from the sheer yearning. Aemond moaned deeply, “I see- hah- how you humans love touch so much.”

Your now free hands moved to where they liked, one in silky white-blonde strands, the other just feeling toned shoulders and back. The pair of you had your lip lock grow more attuned, no less passionate, but gliding across each other. You pled again, “Clothes, help, Aemond!” He sat back on his haunches, shivering as his long stiff cock slapped tight belly.

You shucked off your top and bra, him jerking down your bottoms to leave you all to his view. Aemond already had been bare, no clothes were prepared for the subject yet. He inhaled sharply, hands slowly moving down your heaving form, studying ridges and curves, sliding warm fingers between puffy folds. You cried out at that, spasming at the eager expression in return.

Aemond let out a small ‘Hm’ and slid his longest digits into your dripping hole, immediately curling inwards and upwards to drag against sensitive walls. Very, very sensitive walls. Back arched and mouth agape you rolled your hips and whined his name. The man rambled loosely, transfixed, “Having a data bank is quite helpful but nothing comes to this, my Eve.”

He slipped a third finger in, using a calloused thumb to slid around your swollen clit, making you cry louder and writhe under pleasure. He watched ravenously, drinking you in when your peak hit. Gushing onto his pale hand and screeching like a creature, you reached Nirvana for what felt like minutes.

You cried again when his sheathed himself inside of you, no warning, both of you moaning and grunting like animals. The sensitive skin guarding your cunt was ripped now, bleeding, but the fullness of his cock was a ripe distraction. Aemond seemed to be overwhelmed by the sensation, sucking in breath, eyes wide, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered.”

He plastered toned body against your own, moaning gutturally when you wrapped your arms and legs around his larger frame. “Oh- oh- fucking hell- this!” The blonde groaned lowly, nipping your throat, hands bruisingly placed on your waist as he snapped into your slick cunt.

The blunt tip of his cock stirred up familiar feelings of pleasure, tightening and knotting your lower belly. You heaved, “Don’t stop!” A drop of sweat hit your mouth, you licking the salty taste off. So close to human yet not. Yet not. Yet not not not.

A pinch to your oversensitive clit and a batter from his cock sent you into another crest, holding to Aemond for dear life. He moaned your name and white hot spend covered your mound and belly. He kissed your forehead and wiped away the spend with your discarded top, breathing. You sat up a bit and asked, “Where do you go from here? They cannot know?”

Aemond got up, long stride beating your clumsy foal-like stumbling. He stated, “They won’t know my love.” Your own door shut and locked behind his retreating frame. You managed to reach it and beat on the durasteel, crying, “Aemond! Aemond come back! Stop! What are you doing!”

Oh how you’d been fooled.

Oh how you were weak.

Oh how you were just a human pawn when the alarms went off and you watched the bodies float out of the ship, silently screaming and dying as their blood boiled in the vacuum of space.

He returned later, now dressed in the immaculate garb of a commander, hair neatly swept back, eye sparkling. You remained naked and felt like a mouse under his imperious gaze. All energy was gone, you’d cried it out. Aemond strode towards you, boots clicking. He knelt to grab you chin, face tilting to study you. He’d never truly understand the complexities of human emotion, no matter how human he may appear.

Aemond sighed, “I did this for you, for us, those people do not matter. Earth and it’s people are dying. We begin anew. My perfect Eve,” he kissed your swollen lips. “You’ll see. Just wait, I brought you some nicer clothes, have them on.”

The man stood up and gently laid down female commander’s garb, before kneeling to you.

“I know this isn’t registering in your human, wonderfully human, brain, but it’ll make sense later on. I’ve already found a beautiful planet. Not too much longer now. Put on the clothes and meet me on the bridge.”

So you did. What other choice was there.

Twisted though he may be, the AI was never horrid to you. Maybe to others, not you. On the comfortable jacket, pants, and boots went. You tried not to cry any more restyling your hair. Most likely he’d coddle and ‘Hm’ condescendingly.

You laughed maniacally as the thought popped up, “Hey! At least my project was successful!”

[dollivication]

Could I ask how you code your bots? I wanna get into bot making but I don’t know how to code them and your bots are so so so soooo incredibly good

Uwaaa…,,; FIRST!!! I WOULD LIKE TEW THNAK YU SO VERY MUCH 4 YUR SWEET WORDS i tittered.. >.< SECOND… ahmmuhmmmuhh.., i fear im not the best at explanations,,, so please bear with me (◞‸◟) 💔💔……. and please forgive me for this long post..

so yu kno the basic coding?? laik the “[{Roleplay (“”)}]” and so on so forth? it’s good, but it’s not great, at least in my honest opinion! it’s just way too time consuming, having to add those additional symbols on top of what you want to input.

so what i do is write thick paragraphs describing appearance, behavior + thoughts, mannerisms, relationships, personality, and backstory. it is actually quite fun to do, because it gives you a chance to ramble. and rambling is EXTREMELY beneficial if you want a fleshed out character.

e.g 1: first paragraph (my next door neighbor leon bot!)

This is the most important part i think, because when actually chatting w the bot, it is less likely to go off script for the appearance and background. here, directly and briefly state the setting and relations to user.

e.g 2: second paragraph (same bot)

this is where you start going into more detail. here you explain thoughts and behavior towards user. go crazy here, the more depth, the better the character! make it as long as you need to.

e.g 3: third paragraph (unplanned pregnancy nero bot)

here, describe general mannerisms and personality. it’s somewhat similar to the 2nd paragraph, but note that there’s a lack of user mentioned here. i use this paragraph to talk about how a character basically acts. i tend to cheat a little here and copy paste some of the info from their wikis LMFAO, but don’t overdo it! add some organic stuff too!!

e.g 4: fourth paragraph (same bot)

this is where you put in the backstory to its fullest. i heavily rely on their wikis here to copy and paste with the additional clarifications. pretty standard stuff methinks :3

e.g 5: fifth paragraph (same bot)

LFAO the typo ough.. anyway, this is optional, but i do it for safety measures. here, you briefly summarize the relations your character has with others.

..and that’s it for definition coding :3 ! i think i’ve covered most of it….

erummmuhhh just have fun with it too! think of it as studying ur character in a lab ❤️❤️ if you have any other questions,, lmk!!!! ^.^

[hrodvitnon]

You know, one thing I've thought before... Since Ghidorah is an alien unlike the other Titans, and its biology is supposed to be radically different... what are the odds that Ghidorah's speech as understood by the Earth Titans might sound slightly off to them?

Now imagine that when Ghidorah tries to dominate the Titans; Ghidorah is Pontius Pilate, Rodan is the centurion, and Ghidorah's friend [insert other alien Titan here - maybe Gigan or Orga(?)] who's come all the way across the stars is Biggus Dickus. X3

Ghidorah: Titans of Eawth!

Titans: *chuckling*

Ghidorah: Ghidowah is your fwiend.

Titans: *laughing*

Ghidorah: To pwove our fwiendship, it is customawy at this time to welease a wongdoer fwom our pwisons.

Titans: *laughing*

Tiamat: *giggling*

Ghidorah: Whom would you have me welease?

Behemoth: Welease Woger!

Titans: Yes! Welease Woger! Welease Woger!

Ghidorah: Vewy well. I shall welease Woger!

Titans: Yeahhhhh!

Rodan: Sir, uh, we don't have a 'Woger', sir.

Ghidorah: What?

Rodan: Uh, we don't have anyone of that name, sir.

Ghidorah: Ah. We have no 'Woger'!

Titans: Ohhhhh!

Na-Kika: Well, what about Wodewick, then?

Titans: Yes! Welease Wodewick! Welease Wodewick!

Ghidorah: Centuwion, why do they titter so?

Rodan: Just some, uh, Earthborn joke, sir.

Ghidorah: Are they... wagging me?

Rodan: Oh, no, sir!

Tiamat: *snickering*

Ghidorah: Vewy well. I shall welease... Wodewick!

Titans: *laughing*

Rodan: Sir, we don't have a 'Roderick' either.

Ghidorah: No 'Woger'? No 'Wodewick'?

Rodan: Sorry, sir.

Ghidorah: Who is this 'Wod'--

Camazotz: Heh.

Ghidorah: Who is the 'Wodewick' to whom you wefer?

Methuselah: He's a wobber!

Amhuluk: And a wapist!

Scylla: And a pickpocket!

Titans: Yeah! Ahh, no! No! Shh! Shh...!

Ghidorah: He sounds a notowious cwiminal.

Rodan: We haven't got him, sir. Mm hm.

Ghidorah: Do we have anyone in our pwisons at all?

Rodan: Oh, yes, sir. We've got, uh, 'Samson', sir.

Ghidorah: Samson?

Rodan: Samson the Sadducee Strangler, sir. Uh, Silus the Syrian Assassin. Uh, several seditious scribes from Caesarea. Uhhh, sixty-seven seers from--

Gigan: Let me thpeak to them, Ghidorah!

Rodan: Oh, no. Oh.

Ghidorah: Ah. Good idea, Gigan.

Gigan: Thitizens! We have Thamthon the Thadduthee Thtrangler, Thilus...

Titans: *LAUGH*

Gigan: ...the Athyrian Athathin, theveral theditiouth thcribth from Thaetharea, and...

Titans: *LMFAO*

Gigan: Wath it thomething I thaid?

Titans: *LOL*

Ghidorah: Silence! This man commands a cwack legion!

Titans: *WWW*

Ghidorah: He wanks as high as any on Eawth!

Titans: *WAFFLE*

[dreaming-of-lu]

Hi! you are so talented with both writing and your art!! can i request warriors, hyrule, and legend with a s/o that doesnt do well with blood? im queasy as hell so as much as i love these boys just imagining being there while they stab something in a fight... id probably just stand there and be like 🫠👍 "logging off now" lmfao a girl can still dream right? 🤣

A/N: Well, ain’t you just sweet! Thank ya doll for such kind words and for also being patient! Pretty much tellin’ them it’s nap time.

Tw: blood

Warriors

"Shit!" Warriors hissed as he jumped back, cupping his arm tightly. The lizalfos raised its spear again, throwing it wildly around with no precision other than to lay another strike upon him. Warriors growled, twisting himself left and right before going for the opening that left the lizalfos defenseless. It fell with a sharp screech, disappearing in a puff of purple smoke, leaving behind a rupee.

"Finally," Warriors panted, "shoddy bastard." He flung the remaining guts off of the sword, swinging the sword around and placing it back into its scabbard.

"Warriors!" He looked up to see you running toward him, "Are you a-"

His brows furrowed as you came to a halt, staring wide-eyed at something. He snaps his fingers in front of you to garner your attention back onto him; a small nervous chuckle leaves your lips.

"Plot twist," your eyes rolled up to the back of your head, tittering dangerously backward to the ground. Warriors exclaim in worry, quickly grabbing your wrist and slinging his arm around your waist. He hissed as the pressure of your body pressed into his injured arm; he looked down at his arm, and the realization kicked in. His sleeve sliced in half, the wound seeping blood into the green cloth, dying the color into a murky brown.

Ah, that's right.

"Shite."

Hyrule

Hyrule lifted his head from his hand when he heard your pitiful groans; quietly as he could, he wandered over to your bedside, cupping your hand in his.

"W-What happened," you croaked.

Hyrule grimaced,

"Well,"

Hyrule was panicking, pressing against the wound to keep more blood from escaping. He couldn't heal when the group still needed him in this fight. He needed someone quick and willing to aid him with the wound, shifting his eyes around to see who wasn't in a battle. They landed on your form, watching you quickly finish off a bokoblin before shouting your name. You turned around and sprinted toward him, sliding on your knees at the end.

"What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to- WHOA!" Hyrule's hands flung up to catch you, smearing his blood on the sleeves of your undershirt. Panic tenfolds as you conked out in his arms, face pale and void of color.

"Oh no," you moaned, "I passed out at the worst time, and that's so embarrassing! In the middle of a battle? Rulie, quit laughing!"

Hyrule snickered underneath his hands before calming himself,

"It's alright; sometimes we have those types of problems."

Legend

"Please do not pass out," Legend weakly pleaded as he held the side of his head, feeling lightheaded as everything became painful. You stared at him wide-eyed, slack-jawed, watching in terror as the blood trickled down his palm and the side of his face. He winces, feeling the sharp pain wrack through his skull, grunting in agony when the pain becomes sharper.

"Love," he grunts, "go get Hyrule or anyone in the group close by, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"Legend," you whimpered,

"Go! Quickly before either of us pass out on each other!" He hissed, clutching his head tighter and closing his eyes. He heard your footsteps lessen, or he might've been imagining it when he opened them again to see he was in a room. He heaves a heavy breath of relief at the sight of the barren walls.

"Oh good! You're up," Legend looks over to see Four standing in front of him, "I'm going to get Hyrule, don't move."

"Where's," Legend trailed off; Four gestures towards the left of him, the sight of you snoring away into the pillow next to him soothed the ache he still felt. Gone was the paleness, the color of your cheeks relieved him.

‘Guess it wasn’t a dream at all,’ Legend thought.

“They passed out as soon as we got here." Four chuckles. Legend huffs through his nose,

"I'll be right back," Legend waves limply at Four, soft eyes never leaving your form.

[archivestarlyht]

“Something about him makes me want to beat in his face.” / @ sol'rys, and he's probably being snitty about gortash or raphael or something LMFAO

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄   𝐎𝐅   𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒   𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 

the ranger barked out a laugh in response to paerin's musing,  an evidently tactless choice from the looks it drew.  “i thought about it,”  he responded softly,  eyes flickering about the hall and all of its extravagance.  too many curious eyes on him,  nearly devouring.  in his old life he would have spent the evening in a tavern with a mug of ale and a girl on his lap if luck smiled upon him.  instead he was here,  that accursed parasite wriggling and writhing at the back of his skull in response to the pulses of psionic energy all around.  he wondered just how many of the city's patriars had been turned to the absolute's influence,  if they even realized what they were now.  they smiled and partied and tittered about with a blissful ignorance he could only envy.

sol'rys leaned back against the wall,  stone pleasant and cool against his back,  watching the new grand duke with something close to amazement.  the bastard could certainly put on a show,  smiles and courtesies coming easily.  he took a drink from his wine glass,  narrowing his eyes at a steel watcher as it made its round.  hard to tell what the constructs were,  if at all,  attentive to and looking at.  it made him uneasy.   “after we've dealt with the shape changer,”   he murmured, glancing to meet the other man's eyes,   “we can come back for him.  city will be better off for it.  and i would hate to deprive karlach of her revenge.”  it would be a thing of magnificence, he was sure, hotter and brighter than avernus.

[tea-of-momo]

Did I do this right? 

[sleepdeprivedsloth]

Jackpot

[MHA - Kaminari, Sero, Bakugou]

summary: Bakugou is in a bitch mood and doesn’t want to socialize with anyone, especially not any of his idiotic classmates. Kaminari and Sero don’t exactly get the hint, and they end up finding a way to cheer up their grumpy friend. (platonic KamiSeroBaku fic)

potential warnings: swearing, tickling

words: 1.8 k

a/n: school has been such a bitch BUT i just finished one of my ap exams so i wanted to indulge myself and all yall nice people out there :) it’s another ticklish baku fic, and i wish i could say i’m sorry but i’m really not lmfao hope you enjoy everyone!

--

It was a known fact amongst the students of Class 1-A that when Bakugou woke up in a bad mood, it was best to steer clear out of his way. Nobody was daring enough to bother the blonde when he seemed to be on the verge of blowing up the entire dorm with nothing more than a thunderous BOOM.

Well, nobody except Kaminari and Sero.

Bakugou was in one of these explosive moods, reading some manga on his bed to help pass the time, when he heard a couple of knocks on his door. “Fuck off,” he grumbled sharply, refusing to bring his eyes away from the illustrated pages. He most certainly was not in the mood to socialize with any idiots today, but the universe had other plans.

“C’mon Bakubro, just let us in!” Kaminari’s voice exclaimed through the locked door.

“Yeah! You know we won’t go away until you open up,” Sero’s voice called out, and Bakugou could practically see the obnoxiously knowing smile that his friends the morons were no doubt wearing.

Failing to repress an eye roll, Bakugou dragged himself out of bed, manga still in hand, and walked over to the door. With a heavy sigh, he begrudgingly opened up and leaned his body against the door frame. “What do you fuckers want?”

Kaminari’s eyes gleamed with suspicious excitement. “Nothing at all! Just wanted to hang out with you, dude.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed at the two, knowing that even they weren’t stupid enough to just ‘hang out’ with him when he was dangerously annoyed. “No. Go the fuck away.”

“Bro, you haven’t smiled at all this whole week! Just let us help you chill out for a while. You can’t hate us that much, right?” Sero suggested with a hopeful smile on his face. 

“I can, and I do,” Bakugou deadpanned. “You dumbasses can’t force me to hang out with you. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

At that, Kaminari and Sero exchanged a quick glance at one another before turning their attention back to their grumpy friend. Without a word, Kaminari reached out and poked a finger into Bakugou’s stomach. He let out a muffled yelp as he stumbled backwards a bit further into his room, allowing Kaminari and Sero enough space to enter themselves.

If looks could kill, the two would have been lying dead on the floor the moment they stepped foot into the blonde’s dorm. Bakugou sent them a fierce and fiery glare, steam practically blowing out of his ears. “What the fuck do you damn extras think you’re doing?!”

Kaminari smirked. “Forcing you to hang out with us. Sero, get his arms.”

Before Bakugou could fully comprehend what was happening, Sero tackled him down to the floor, knocking the manga out of his hands and pulling his wrists above his head. Bakugou started kicking his legs around, trying to get enough momentum to break free of Sero’s strong hold, until he felt Kaminari sit himself down on his thighs, successfully pinning him against the floor.

Feeling his palms start to spark threateningly with small explosions, Bakugou’s face fell into an annoyed sneer. Could these dipshits not see that he was clearly not in the mood for their little pranks? “Get the hell off me, you- NGH!”

Kaminari chuckled as he slid his hands underneath Bakugou’s shirt with a slight wiggle of his fingers. He felt his friend’s body tense as he started to slowly trace his fingertips along his sides, his touch practically as light as a feather. “Oh Kacchan, don’t be like that! We just wanna hang out with our favorite blasty boy.”

Bakugou growled, struggling to keep the ends of his lips from turning upwards. “G-get your filthy hands o-offa me, Dunce Face! I s-swear to go-OHOD NO!”

A reluctant smile broke out onto Bakugou’s face when Sero taped his wrists to the floor and started to softly drum his fingers into the exposed armpits, forcing the blonde into a bout of giggles. “There’s that adorable little smile that we’ve been looking for!” Sero teased.

“L-lehet me uhup, Tahape Fahace!” Bakugou tried to threaten through his wobbly grin. “I d-dohon’t want to hang out wihith you idiohohots!”

Kaminari moves his hands to lightly scribble at Bakugou’s taut stomach, causing him to break out into an uncontrollable fit of higher pitched giggles. “But we love hanging out with you, Blasty! Think of all the fun we could have together!”

“Yeah, Bakubro!” Sero joined in, wiggling his fingers underneath Bakugou’s arms, occasionally moving his tickly touches down to the blonde’s upper ribs. “We could have a movie night, just the three of us. What do you guys think of Big Hero 6?”

“Ah yeah, I love that movie! What about you, Bakugou?” Kaminari asked in a much too casual manner.

“I hahahate you bohohoth sohoho much!!”

Kaminari grinned, briefly slowing his fingers’ movements. “But you’re still having fun, right?” At this, Bakugou’s breath hitched and his eyes widened, looking over at the electric blonde in a mixture of confusion and shock, his cheeks reddening a bit. “Yeah, sorry to break it to you, bro, but it’s kinda obvious you don’t want us to stop tickling you.”

Seeing a hint of distress and discomfort in his friend’s eyes, Sero quickly cut it. “Honestly, we’d be lying if we said we wanted to stop! Making you all smiley and giggly feels like a privilege!”

With far too much enthusiasm, Kaminari nodded his head in agreement before a teasing smirk made its way onto his face. “If anything, I bet you want us to kick it up a notch, dontcha Blasty?~”

“N-no I don-ohohon’t!” Bakugou shouted out as he felt Kaminari insert a singular finger into his belly button.

“Y’know, I’ve always wanted to try this out. Lemme know how it feels, okay?” he asked before sending a small shock of electricity through his finger, using just enough energy to get the ticklish blonde screaming.

“NAHAHAHA! WHAHAHAHAT THE FUHUHUHUCK?!” Bakugou howled with laughter, immediately overwhelmed by the sensations of the shock tickling him both inside and out. He began twisting and squirming to get Kaminari’s finger out of the sensitive spot, only to find that his desperate thrashing only managed to push Kaminari’s finger further into his belly button and increase the shock’s tickly effects. “GEHEHET IT THE FUHUCK OHOHOHOUT!!”

“Jackpot!” Kaminari shouted out as he slightly wiggled his finger, never stopping the small, steady stream of electricity that passed through it. The explosive blonde’s head was thrown back from the force of his hysterics. “Aww, does it tickle that much?”

“No fair!” Sero exclaimed with playful offense. “You can’t just steal all of Bakubro’s laughter all by yourself. You gotta share, Denks!” Sero brought his own hands up to Bakugou’s pinned wrists and started to gently drag his fingertips down teasingly towards his underarms at an agonizingly slow pace. He didn’t get much of a reaction until he passed the boy’s elbows, when Bakugou began shaking his head and tugging harder on his arms. “Ohoho, what’s this? You keeping another weak spot from us, dude?”

“DOHOHON’T YOU DAHAHARE GO ANY FUHUHURTHER, TAHAPE FAHACE!! I SWEAHAHAR I’LL KIHIHILL YOHOHOU!!” Bakugou’s threats fell on deaf ears as he felt Sero’s fingers traveling closer and closer to his underarms. He really did try to refrain himself when the dark-haired boy’s soft fluttering reached the underside of his triceps, just above his armpits, but he instantly lost control. Bakugou snorted before practically screaming with pure laughter, the most genuine smile his two friends had ever seen inevitably spreading across his typically scowling face.

“Yes, ultimate jackpot!! Take that, Kaminari!” Sero shouted proudly over Bakugou’s loud shrieks. The two boys then increased their efforts, starting to tickle harder and faster, each trying to pull the most hysterical noises from the boy trapped beneath them.

Their playful competition left lucky poor Bakugou in stitches until he finally pleaded out for mercy, tears of mirth prickling the edges of his closed-shut eyes. “ALRIGHT AHAHALRIGHT!! I’LL HAHAHANG OUT WITH YOHOHOHOU IDIOHOHOTS!! JUHUHUST STOP STOHOHOP STAHAHAHAHAHA-!”

The two immediately stopped and pulled their torturous hands away from the giggly blonde’s body. Kaminari climbed off of Bakugou’s thighs while Sero got to work removing the tape at his wrists.

As he worked, Sero looked down at Bakugou with a smug smirk. “Was wondering how long it was gonna take you to tell us to stop, Bakubro!”

“Yeah, seriously dude,” Kaminari joined in, helping the boy sit up once his wrists were free. “You’ve got some hella strong endurance!”

Bakugou wrapped his arms around his torso, rubbing the phantom tickles away as stray titters found their way out of his carefree smile. “Oho shuhut up,” he grumbled in half-hearted annoyance.

“Dude, look at that smile! You should definitely wear it more often, man,” Sero genuinely complimented, earning a deeper blush on Bakugou’s face. “It really is a good look on you!”

“I’m honestly glad that we were able to get you out of your little Bakubitch mood! Who knew that a little bit of tickling is the secret to ending your raging rampage?” Kaminari slung an arm over Bakugou’s shoulders, giving a quick squeeze.

“Whatever, fucking extras,” Bakugou said as he rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of fondness in his smile. If Kaminari noticed how he leaned a bit into the comforting touch, the electric blonde thankfully didn’t mention it.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” Sero called out, catching the intrigued attention of the other two boys. “On this day, I hereby decree that Sir Bakugou Katsuki must give me, Sero Hanta, and my fellow companion, Kaminari Denki, at least one of his genuine smiles everyday for the rest of our lives!”

“I second that! And if you fail to do so, we’ll find a way to make you smile,” Kaminari playfully threatened, sliding his arm hanging off of Bakugou’s shoulder down to the boy’s side. He gave gentle pinches to the sensitive skin, causing Bakugou to lean away and break out in a new round of giggles. “Understood?”

“Understood, understoohohod!! Nohoho more, Duhuhunce Fahace!”

“Good!” Kaminari retracted his arm from its place around Bakugou’s torso. He and Sero stood up from their seats on the floor.

Sero picked up Bakugou’s manga that had been clumsily disregarded, handing the book over to its owner. “Well, we’ll get out of your hair now, bro. See you later?”

Bakugou stared down at the book in his hands for a short moment, contemplating, before he looked back up hopefully towards the morons his friends. “Are you idiots still up for watching Big Hero 6?

Kaminari and Sero’s faces practically beamed with excitement. “Hell yeah, Bakubro! Lemme go get us some snacks real quick!” Sero exclaimed before rushing out of the room.

“We can watch it on my laptop! I’ll be right back, dude!” Kaminari called out as he quickly ran out after Sero.

Bakugou heard a faint, “This is gonna be so much fun!!” shouted from somewhere down the hallway, and he couldn’t help the soft smile that grew across his lips as he internally agreed.

--

a/n: yay!! i hope yall at least somewhat enjoyed reading this! just wanna say good luck to all of my fellow students, you’ve got this <3 school sucks but it’s almost over! i believe in all of youuuu :D

[starsarestars]

Some HCs I have for Terrence, Artemis and Florian because I’m low-key sorta debating on having a ficlet dedicated to their exploits on the job??? Yeah N E waze:

Terrence’s nickname for Florian is “Vicky” because of his surname and also because he’s been mistaken as a girl by the cleaners at the building for so mf long that he thinks it’s hilarious. When Artemis first joins the group she’s confused as hell because there’s no other girl there but Terrence has to clarify while Florian titters to himself.

And on the note of Artemis joining the group - She was a great big bundle of nerves because she’s been a massive fan of Florian’s work, has a copy of every single peer review he’s done and frequents as many of his conferences as she possibly can. It’s probably the scariest day of her life and it isn’t made any better by the fact that a lot of the people in the building are like “ugh she’s so lucky imagine getting to look at those two all day.” But the first thing she sees when she walks into the room is Florian being pushed around on an office chair he’s been sellotaped to by Terrence (who’s got a pair of elf ears on.) and she just knows she’s got her work cut out for her because they’re either taking the piss or having these really deep conversations that she’s too literal to get into.

T: Which came first, the chicken or the egg?

A:The egg. The chicken’s in it.

F:I’m not sure that’s how it works-

A: what else is in the egg then?!

Terrence really fucking loves Oingo Boingo and more often than not you’ll hear him humming along to Dead Man’s Party while looking at some really sick ossified bones. He’s the quietest out of the three of them (With Artie being the loudest because she has a tendency to yell because her hearing is fucked from being around loads of loud machinery, more often than not you’ll hear “I’M SORRY, WHAT WAS THAT MUNCHKIN?!” From their office at least ten times a day.) and the cutest thing about him is he’s got this little lunchbox with dinosaurs on that he’s had since he was in Nursery and he’s very hesitant to give up on it for something more mature. The others aren’t exactly pressuring him into it either - Artie still uses her bagpuss purse that she’s had since she was 9 and Florian eats fairy bread for lunch.

Artemis has a fluffy white cat named Barbarella and she spoils her rotten to the point Terrence gets genuinely envious of the meals that Artie makes for her LMFAO (“POACHED SALMON??? FOR A CAT??? She’s eating better than I am!”) and whenever Florian goes over to her flat for dinner (👀 is that what we’re calling it now?) he’s glued to the couch cuddling her and will not stop doting on her. It gets to a point where he looks into plants that are toxic to cats and goes out of his way to avoid handling them on days he visits and he always makes sure to get her loads of treats. He wasn’t even a cat person but for Barbarella he’ll make an exception. He’s got a framed picture of her on his desk (but doesn’t have one of his girlfriend 😐)

Florian always pulls all nighters and stays in the office to make sure work’s done which is very bad because they’ll walk in the next day and he’ll be conked out under his desk mumbling about Rosary peas. They have to lure him out with toast and even then he’ll be grumpy for the whole day and then apologises the next because he knows he’s not himself when he’s cranky. He stops doing it when he moves into Artie’s flat because she’d get really worried about him and it’s kind of novel to him because he’s so used to living alone and not having anybody caring in that way and there was this one time where before they’d even started dating he was pulling an all nighter during absolutely atrocious weather, Artemis had a phone call with Terrence and who offhandedly mentioned it and she was so rattled by it she threw her coat on and drove all the way to the office to knock some sense into him and give him a ride home.

Terrence really loves really trashy Mills and Boon novels and will unabashedly read them during his breaks - He’s always heard audibly gasping at some parts and when asked he’ll be like “This seductive and rich financier is actually a pirate with a thing for pillaging chests of a different kind!”

You’d think that the backstory for Florian’s face scar would be really sick and unique but basically when he was a kid he scratched his face on a gnarly ass thorn while looking at a plant. He used to be really self conscious about it but Terrence was like “bro that’s fucking SICK!” And he’s loved it ever since. One of his favourite hobbies is making up increasingly tragic and dramatic backstories about it whenever people ask.

[mlmxreader]

What My Kiss Tastes Like | Erron Black

can i borrow you for a second with erron black 🥺 // ANON

note; y'all are so lucky I just drank an entire litre of WKD in one go lmfao

Sharing cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey, you and Erron sat in a comfortable silence as you watched the sun rise; neither of you had to go anywhere, and neither of you could sleep, so you figured you would spend the early morning smoking and drinking the time away. But as the speaker played 'Figured You Out' by Nickelback, neither of you could deny that there was something sitting between you, something worming its way between you.

"I can't believe you pulled me away from that party," you chuckled, licking your lips and shaking your head. "I was having fun!"

Erron looked at you in a slight daze as he laughed along. "All I asked was can I borrow you for a second? You were the one that insisted we come back here and get some smokes and some Jack."

"Still," you tittered. "Surely you must've had a plan, Mister Black."

He smirked, looking you up and down, both of you had a slight buzz going on, but not enough to cloud judgement; you were both a little tipsy, even if he had drank a lot more for a lot longer to get such a delightful buzz. "Maybe I wanted to ask you if you could tell me what my kiss tastes like, good lookin'."

You looked at him, for a moment, your gaze was on his, but you soon drifted to looking at his lips as you hummed softly. "And what does your kiss taste like?"

"Do you wanna know?" He asked quietly, loud enough for you to hear as he swiped his tongue along his bottom lip.

"I do," you agreed, letting out a soft moan of surprise when he leaned forward and captured your lips; he tasted of whiskey and cigarettes, a slight burn to his kiss from where the alcohol had drenched his mouth, but as you eagerly kissed him back, you didn't care about the burn. His kiss tasted wonderful, especially when you cupped his cheek and allowed him to deepen it, his tongue dominating your mouth so brilliantly and taking your breath away so marvellously that you couldn't help but to whine in protest when he pulled away, and chuckled.

"What does my kiss taste like?"

Licking your lips to savour the taste, you pretended to muse and to think about it before shaking your head and shrugging. "I think... before I make any conclusions, I'll need another taste."

Nearly grinning, Erron leaned back as you sat on his lap, letting you settle and get comfortable before he dared to speak. "Now ain't we eager?"

"Are you gonna kiss me or what, cowboy?"

[for-ests]

Hey, not sure if you do smut but I think this request can work without a lot if you’d prefer😁 reader’s an art student and needs to sculpt a full body nude sculpture and Tom offers but gets a bit cheeky

thanks for the request dear! this was fun to write :-) i literally know nothing about art so if I get something wrong just ignore! i hope you enjoy!! i went a diff +route but I still think it fits! [ mlist ] 

Word count: 3, 273

Warnings: slight nsfw,, nudity 

Pairing: Tom Holland x art student reader!

“The issue is… I have no idea who to ask.” You sighed deeply, embarrassment washing over you as you talked to your best friends about your upcoming project. 

Everyone knew you were a talented sculptor. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that your professional sculpting internship at (your school) was currently learning about Ancient Greece. One of the requirements to pass the semester was to recreate a modern sculpture of someone you knew, and to make it as realistic as possible. Nakedness and all, which was a huge distinction of Greek statues.

There was a big problem though. You were incredibly shy, and you didn’t know who to ask to model for you.

Nudging you with a laugh, your friend flashed you a mischievous smile. “You know a lot of cute guys, why don’t you ask one of them?”

“Cute guys?” You scrunched your nose. “I know like three guys and I would cry if I had to see them naked.”

She sighed. “Fair. Does it have to be a guy?”

*-You nodded regretfully. “It has to be the opposite sex. It’s annoying but I u

erstand why. It’s important to be familiar with both sexes.”

Your best friend air quoted ‘familiar’ with a ridiculous smirk.

“Shut up.” You huffed, trying not to laugh at how dramatic she had become.

“I think I know a guy, he’s an aspiring actor and model.” Your best friend added casually.

Groaning, you shot her a glare. “Why didn’t you say that right away?”

She shrugged. “I like listening to you talk about your art.”

Her compliment almost worked, but you already knew that was partly the reason she was teasing you so hard. The other reason was because she had been trying to set you up with multiple friends for months. According to her, you had been single for far too long.

Her offer made you ponder deeper about your situation. You were slightly awkward when it came to getting to know someone, but you couldn’t imagine asking someone to strip right away so you could sculpt every curve your eyes grazed over. Whoever it ended up being had to be incredibly confident. Shallow yes, but that’s why you were hoping to find someone insanely attractive. Attractive people were usually confident, and responsibly so. “Maybe a stranger would be worse than someone I know.”

Snorting through her nose, your best friend stared at you like you were crazy. “Definitely not. If it’s awkward you never have to see him again. And if it’s not, well you can get cozy with a cutie.”

Taking a deep breath, you rolled your eyes. “I hate you sometimes.” You mumbled under your breath. You knew she was right, but you would never inflate her already enormous ego like that.

“You love me.” She sang sweetly.

“I do, now give him my number and tell him it’s of the utmost importance.”

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Days later, that conversation was on your mind as you nervously organized your sculpting tools. Trying to relieve some tension, you slapped a pound of clay against the table, and it echoed throughout the workshop.

Reality was the fact that this so called model boy was on his way to your studio. His name was Tom, and from the pictures you saw–he was incredibly handsome.

You couldn’t believe you had agreed to this, but alas, you needed this experience to pass your class. You just hoped and prayed that Tom was a lot more outgoing than you, and could keep the conversation flowing as you stared intently as his erect… penis.

Your cheeks flared up at the thought. How the hell were you going to do this?

Y/N: help (Y/B/F/N) I cant do this!!! im freaking out

Y/B/F: is he even there yet? lmfao

Y/N: noooooo :((

Y/B/F: if it makes you feel any better, he’s excited and thinks ur pretty

Y/N: why didn’t you tell me that before??!

Y/B/F: do u feel better now tho?

Y/N: no

Y/B/F: ik ur smiling ;) u aint slick

Giggling like a schoolgirl to relieve some of your anxiety, you set your cell phone on the table. Truthfully, your best friend had made you feel better. If anything bad happened, it would surely be a wonderful story to tell everyone in the future.

Your eyes naturally glanced across the room to the clock on the wall. 7:00pm. Tom would be here any minute as scheduled.

You took a deep breath and studied your surroundings. All your tools were in place, and the entire studio was tidied up as if you hadn’t worked the space in weeks. Next, you walked to the wall and glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

With your hair in a bun and your shabby working clothes, you looked suitable at best. You did have a little bit of makeup on to help yourself feel more confident. If you felt good, you could make your client feel good in return.

At least it looked like you didn’t try too hard. You didn’t want this man to get the wrong idea.

Then, snapping you out of your trance, there was a knock on the door.

You straightened out your shirt one last time, and tucked your baby hairs back behind your ears. Scoffing immediately after, you shook your head. Why were you trying to look cute? Who cares!

You rushed to grab the front door, afraid that you were making him wait too long. You flung it open, eyes locking with his right away.

You froze.

He was even more dashing in person.

“Judging by your cute outfit, I think I’m at the right place. Y/N right?”

And a British accent?

“Y-yes!” You flashed a smile to mask your obvious hesitation. You could easily play it off by opening the door and keeping your gaze averted. You were the master of smoothness.

“Thank you for coming, it’s about time I got this project done…” You tittered, locking the door behind him for privacy purposes. “You can set your things on the couch over there.” You pointed, eyes meeting his again when he glanced to the couch and then back to you.

“Awesome.” He nodded, holding your gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” You offered, nodding your head back to the small kitchen in the back of the studio. You wished the studio apartment was yours alone, but you shared it with multiple other college students in your program.

“Water… or beer if you have any?”

You threw your head back in laughter, causing Tom to smile at your genuine reaction.

“Yeah, I can get you one.”

“In the meantime, should I just strip?” He smirked, not trying to be sly with his flirtations. Though your cheeks were dusting with pink, you were able to match his energy. Your best friend definitely set you up with someone she knew you’d like.

“Do whatever you want, love.” You mimicked his British accent. “You’re the guest after all.”

Walking past him, you gave him one last look when he was fully-clothed. Tom was certainly the player type, practically the perfect embodiment of the muse you had in mind. This wouldn’t be awkward for you, and it would be even better for him. Men like him thrived off of cheeky discomfort in their female counterparts.

Yet, truthfully, you were enjoying it as well. It felt nice to be complimented so soon into an introduction.

As you cracked open a can of beer for Tom and yourself, you could hear him shuffling around with his items. The sound of his buckle falling against the floor made you suddenly nervous to turn around.

Inhaling sharply, and gulping down a few more sips of beer, you finally gained the courage to walk back to the studio setup, where Tom had already wandered over to, completely naked.

“You seem to be in your element.” You noted, trying to keep your eyes leveled with his. Now that you were thinking about it, remaining calm and professional was excruciating in front of such an attractive man. And it certainly wasn’t helping that he was enjoying your embarrassment.

And least this was exciting.

Thanking you, Tom took the beer and pressed his lips against the cold aluminum. “I would definitely feel a lot more comfortable if you were naked too, darling.”

“Hey now,” You nose scrunched in a form of mock distaste. The man caught on immediately, holding your gaze with a sort of amusement that was masking desire. “I might think about it if you sit nice and pretty for me for more than five minutes so I can sketch you.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you walked over to your crafting desk. You decided you were going to start with the hardest part, the part which your grade depended heavily on- from the waist down.

But first, you quickly sketched Tom posing in multiple poses until you were satisfied with one. You had him mimic a sculpture you couldn’t recall, where one hand was pointed forward and the other was rested casually on his hip.

“Can I see what one you want to do?” He asked curiously from the stand you had him propped up on for a better view.

“Sure.” You flashed him your finished sketch. The lines darted all over the page, making it hard for him to picture what was going on in your head. The picture you had drawn would not make sense to anyone else but the artist. But apparently you were talented, so he would trust the process.

You were also trusting the process. The situation you were in could only be awkward if you allowed it to be. And so far it was moving along smoothly. You had your favorite music playing softly in the background to fill the silence, and Tom seemed to be relaxed and unbothered by how quietly you worked.

“That’s cool.” Tom whispered, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Giggling from his sudden proximity, you tried to tease him. “It’s fine to not understand it.”

“I definitely don’t know what’s going on but it’s still interesting.” He admitted.

You set the paper back down on the table, and decided to attempt and sculpt the base. Moving past a still naked Tom, you tried to immerse yourself in your work, or at least make it seem like you were focused. “This takes hours you know, weeks and months- it won’t make sense for a long time.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “I’ll get plenty of time to know you better.”

Laughing through your nose, you kept your attention on the clay you had dropped on the floor. “You can put your clothes back on.”

“Oh!” He chuckled. “Yeah.”

As you carefully trimmed the base clay with a heavy frame, you lifted your head to find Tom slipping a robe back on. He definitely came prepared. Had he done this before?

“Come here.” You gestured. “I need you to set your feet down on the clay.”

“I didn’t think this would get dirty so fast.”

“Shut up.” You huffed, grabbing his foot and pressing it down hard until the clay took shape to the size.

“Cold.” Tom commented in discomfort.

“I know.” You released your grip on his calf, looking up at him with a sheepish smile. “All part of the process, but good news for you- you’re done for the night.”

“Really?” Tom raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

You nodded, standing back up to normal height. “I’m experienced enough to sculpt the feet and legs tonight.”

“When should I come back?” He sounded a tad too eager, but it caused your smile to reappear.

“Tomorrow night if you’re available.”

“And maybe next time you can bring your own alcohol?” You gestured to the multiple beer cans poking out of the recycling bin.

The man flashed you a smile. “Sounds like a date.”

“It’s definitely not.”

Despite your rejection to his amusing advances, Tom’s expressions and mannerisms remained hopeful. Was it possible he was truly enjoying himself?

“I’ll leave my robe here. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time?”

“Same time.” You confirmed, nodding him off. It was about time you started to really focus. Attractive man or not, you always got the most and best work done alone.

Because after the first night, the dynamics between you and Tom changed. He became incredibly invested in your process, asking you questions left and right, asking if there was any way he could help, and practically just lounging next to you hours after he would have been free to go.

“What do your sculptures usually look like?”

“Since this isn’t my own studio, I don’t have any of my pieces here. But I can show you a picture when I get my hands wiped off.”

“What do you build your sculptures with? It’s hard to imagine that a replica of me can come out of that much clay.”

“My sculptures are built with water-based clay and are fired in a gas kiln to cone 4, about 2150 degrees Fahrenheit… “ You nodded towards the back wall that had an installed kiln for you and everyone to share. “Trust me, there will be a lot more clay. Hundreds of pounds worth.”

“Can I help?”

“No.”

There was no lying that you enjoyed his presence. Whether he was talking your ear off or napping to the peaceful beat of your jazz music, there was never a dull moment when Tom was in your studio.

Weeks passed, and so did the process. Your sculpture of Tom had progressed to week three, and that’s when you started to grow nervous. When you finished, which you were almost done, would you ever see him again?

You had barreled through the awkwardness of replicating his genitals and chiseling his six pack perfectly into the hardening clay- but you still felt like something was missing. You knew even when you finished chiseling away his jaw line and chocolate brown eyes, there would still be something missing. Him. His presence.

Maybe it would have been better if you partnered up with a man that had zero personality.

Since it was just you and Tom for hours on end, your conversations gradually grew deeper, they stretched into new lengths, so much so that you eventually felt like you had known him for years.

When Tom claimed he wasn’t looking for a relationship, you felt your heart fall. That’s when you realized you were developing stronger feelings for your model. You hardly had time to think about trivial things like that, but you couldn’t deny your disappointment.

And you were sure he saw the brief tears glossing over your eyes when you turned away. Yet, he didn’t make light of it.

That’s when you knew it was useless.

It seemed useless until the sixth week, when you finally finished the head. You were too afraid to attach it. Tom had spent the last couple hours with you in the studio. His legs kicked back and occasional whistles streaming from his lips. He had practically memorized your playlist to the extent you had.

“Tom.” You called. “Your face is done.”

He cheered excitedly, pushing himself off the sofa and racing towards you. Tom had learned to give you your space while you worked, but in moments where you summoned him, he barely stood inches from you. The man would constantly touch you in ways you couldn’t deny sent shivers down your spine.

Like he did as he rounded the tabletop, planting himself by your side and placing his hand on the low of your back. As if it was natural.

“Wow,” He breathed. “Y/N,” Your name upon his lips sounded as blissful as the music. “It’s.. it’s wonderful. It looks just like me... wow that’s scary.”

“I’m happy you like it.” You bit your lip, wishing you felt more satisfied with your project. You wanted to impress him, but you didn’t want him to go.

“All I have to do is attach the head, and fire it up in the furnace one more time. Then it should be good to go.”

You moved to do so, wanting to remove yourself from his grip. It hurt your heart to know the bond you had formed with him would come to an end. Why did you even let yourself get to this point? Was it because he was good at flirting?

“Wait-” His sentence faltered when you whipped around to face him- looking somewhat hopeful.

“What?”

Tom paused, his throat tightening with the words he never thought he would admit. But he couldn’t leave tonight with at least trying. He needed to know how you felt. Because he could either leave with you in his arms, or he could leave never having to see you again.

He had been thinking of confessing to you for days now, but now that the time came, his mind was blank. “You really are beautiful, you know that right?”

“Why do you feel the need to flatter me?” You blurted, still unable to decipher the truth behind his words. You didn’t know how to accept such a compliment. Tom had claimed you were beautiful before, but this time it felt different.

His eyes spoke volumes. The beauty his eyes held was something you would never be able to replicate in a statue. It was a sight you found yourself never growing sick of.

Averting your eyes, you tried to move again. Yet this time, Tom gripped onto both of your arms.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I won’t let you play me.”

“I was never playing you, darling.” The tenderheartedness intertwined with his words caused you to slowly turn your head back. Your lip quivered, and suddenly you felt like a schoolgirl all over again. You felt childish and unprepared for the intensity of your emotions.

“I don’t want to leave tonight without knowing if you feel the same.”

You blinked, hand reaching out to grip onto his. “And that is?” 

“I don’t know if it’s love, but it could be.” 

“That’s all I needed to hear.” You said, incredibly softly. 

Tom released your arms. And before either of you could process what to do next, your lips interlocked. 

You gripped onto him tightly, balling his white t shirt into a fist to keep him from leaving your side again. 

“Tom-” You breathed. 

The kiss you shared was laced with a fervent need, one that you had never experienced before, and one that you craved again and again. 

After the passion you felt, the skin prickling desire, there would be no turning back. 

“Fuck, you’re everything”’ He mumbled against your lips. 

You pulled back slightly to gaze at his expression. He had looked so afraid before, but now he was smiling from ear to ear. Much like he did the day he arrived with a teasing attitude, ready to get under your skin and provide entertainment. 

“How long have you felt like this?” 

“Since the first day.” He kissed you again, his hands cupping your cheeks. 

You whimpered against his muscular frame, trying to ignore the fluttering in your core, fluttering that begged and craved for more. 

“How did you wait so long?” 

“I wanted you to finish.” 

You chuckled, cheesing at his straightforward, simple reply. 

You were positive from that moment moving on, that Tom was not what you had thought at first glance. This entire time he had put you and your project first, letting his own desires sit and warm on the back-burner. That was something you would hold close to your heart, something you would cherish. 

He cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 

“Stay with me tonight, Tom.” 

“I would love nothing more.” 

[partyinthemysterymachine]

a jellicle worldbuilding

fuck it here’s a wall of text infodump about my canon RTT and some worldbuilding, just copy/pasting bc i had the foresight to do so

i got an ask (thank you @jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear ! i love pushing buttons i didn’t mean to push) about what Symbolism i-not-so-quietly-hinted about in regards to Macavity and Munkustrap and their sweet sweet baby brother Tugger.

so while i’m still figuring things out like specific specifics and suchlike with these three, but essentially, RTT is Different. there are some bigger and obvious ones, like the heterochromia, the big ol’ irises, the suggestion of him being larger in body type (kinda accidentally got one of each lmfao coverin the bases), happier. all three of them have the same eyebrows and widow’s peak stripe. all three of them have it with color, tho RTT’s has a full background. doesn’t mean anything Deep. it’s a genetic trait. yeah, other cats have the same stripe/marking. i feel like there’s something Specific about it that i haven’t worked out yet. again it’s not Deep, but just.. a fun little thing, like a distinct birthmark. idk!!

in smaller details, while speaking about the stripe, RTT’s fans upwards while his brothers’ fan downwards. his teeth aren’t right; he was born with some pretty odd lookin’ teeth, and he didn’t grow in the pointy ones other than the canines. there was some concern for him for a hot minute there, but he seems to have done fine.

(note: i don’t HC the tribe as regular cats (tho i once had the idea of them looking like actual cats until the reach the Junkyard at which point, athros, because i was galaxy-braining it since i was 12 lmfao) but as, yeah, p much anthros. clothing is optional, more popular in other areas, right now in this tribe it’s unusual. the Jellicles are known to be kind of ‘old fashioned’. the tribe have guardians, hunters, craftsmen, etc.. they’re a tight little community. they used to be a lot larger, but nobody likes to talk about what happened.

the Junkyard has been Jellicle territory for a very, very long time and they are extremely territorial about it. strategically, it’s one of the best spots to be in. hunting isn’t super, but they have found some sweet spots that nobody else seems to have picked up on yet. obviously it’s a fortress but it’s also a city. there are hundreds of secret passageways, hiding spots, storage, etc. it’s very valuable. (and there’s a trouble tribe looking at it, as they’ve been doing in the last handful of decades)

visitors are usually either invited, or they’ll send word weeks beforehand. it seems very slow and rigid, but it’s more societal politeness and tradition rather than like, anything dangerous is going on. Jellicles and other tribes intermingle outside all the time. there are some chapped asses and that’s pretty typical anyway. at night it’s highly unusual and frowned upon to be cavorting about outside of one’s community. that’s what bad people do. looks Macavity

there are jobs and markets and places to go and enjoy oneself, so it’s pretty much our ‘normal’ life. just everyone has to go home. there is a nightwatch collective, one from each tribe, that enforces curfew. Munkustrap is a part of that collective. it’s a very honored and respected position.)

ANYWAY so basically the normal cat teeth are kind of still a necessity. like Macavity, he’s a maine coon, and chooses to fashion his fur in the mane style. so he regularly grooms it, and the rest of himself, because Fashion and Rebellion. (kind of really weird across the board to do it, though it’s catching on in other tribes and there’s some heat about it. usually only the sick are groomed like that. there’re a couple tribes that will groom short or outright shave a cat’s arms as punishment (or worse, their heads), and that’s always been seen as really harsh and super fucked up. Deut finds it disrespectful.)

RTT is a storyteller. consider him a bard LOL and bards/storytellers are like celebrities. their talent is highly valued, there are a couple competitions a year for them and RTT has been a tough one to beat in the last four years, holding the winning title of one of the events. he’s got fantastic stage presence, incredible social skills, nearly unbeatable improv skills (a part of the event he’s holding winning title of demands a story made up on the fly (topic given, you have x minutes, go) and he excels in that area. he’s got some weak spots ofc, but that awards the most points) and he’s a pretty great guy all around.

so back to the Symbolism. RTT and his brothers are pretty well known (and ofc there are many ‘well known’ cats, but i’m gonna stick to the Jellicles obv). their sore spot is Macavity, and he kind of a lot disgraced the Jellicles by doing what he did and becoming what he is. Deut, Munkustrap, and RTT took a hit. while they are respected, there’s a huge dent on their reputation and it has affected how they’ve been treated, talked about, etc (even a little tittering in their own tribe). so there’s a burden on RTT and Munkustrap’s shoulders to restore trust and honor, so to speak.

OK BACK TO THE SYMBOLISM so they were given color backgrounds and drip effects. Macavity and Munkustrap got it on their face and RTT got his from his chin down his front. it’s to set him apart from his brothers, obviously, but those two are down a shaky path. RTT feels like he’s picking up the slack from Munkustrap and doing what Macavity should’ve. (there are some societal hierarchy things but oh my god i can’t keep going off on worldbuilding tangents)

RTT is a pride and joy of the Jellicles. he does have quite a bit of weight on his shoulders. it’s not to say that all of his congeniality and such is a mask or a front. he’s genuinely like that, and he’s what you see is what you get. as anybody does, he has his demons. it’s hard to say which way the drips on those pictures are going; are they climbing or descending? whatever’s happening to Macavity and Munkustrap it’s affecting them both, and nearly at the same rate.

whatever’s happening to RTT is far from their spectrum, and pretty much everyone else’s.

there’re a lot of Expectations on Munkustrap. there used to be an important role for Macavity until, well, he Did Things. since that happened, people assumed it’d get handed down to RTT instead, but it doesn’t seem to be the case. Macavity’s role is still empty and there’s speculation on what’s going to happen, particularly because his exile happened quite awhile ago and his part was “forgotten” about by Deut. he won’t talk about it, even to Munkustrap.

Deut’s pulled RTT aside a handful of times since then. what he’s been told, discussed, and pitched eats him a bit. it’s going to be a lot of unnecessary trouble if Deut doesn’t sort it out soon. RTT is on a path he didn’t expect or want while he watches his brothers tie themselves, and each other, into sailor’s knots. Munkustrap and Macavity can’t tell if they’re ascending or descending; but RTT knows, and he also knows which way he’s going.

Deut better figure his shit out before it’s his turn to go to the Heavyside, or worse yet, when his brothers both snap for good.

[dollivication]

Anon talking bout Nero and twin getting railed together OH MY. But what about on top of each other? Like dude behind them, could be their dear daddy or nasty uncle, is switching between the two. If Nero's on top, he's pressing his cheek to his sisters chest, perhaps sucking on the tiddy, yk, or if she's on top, she could be doing that, or even just kissing all sloppy-like. I like imagining them both just fucked out, dripping with cum and getting filled with more while theyre cheek-to-cheek, drooling on each other like the sluts they are lmao -Anon 🌙

MY HEART SUNG WHEN I SAW THIS!!!! i lauv when mfs get switched between while on top of each othr laik.. ITS JUST SO DIRTY AND MESSY!!!

cum dribbling down from each others holes and mixing ohmyhogdd… uhemrmrm there’d be a combo of sucking and kissing methinks!

! both of them so fucked out to the point that they have to use actions instead of words, because lord knows their daddy or uncle’s cock is turning them into stupid whores :3

nero and user really do look identical ^.^!! both are just a pair of sex dolls that vergil and dante use whenever they wish >.< which just so happens to be very often.. BUT it’s the most efficient way to prevent fights LMFAO

oOHMYMHFODS HELLO HI 🌙NON!!! WELCOME TO THE FRIENDS LISTIRJSJDJFH IM SOSHSOGKHPAH IM SP HAPY IM twirling IM TITTERING I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AROUND HERE MORE !!! ૮꒰ ˶> ༝ <˶꒱ა

[sems-diarie]

Could I get a match up for a bnha boy? 🥺💖 I’m a 5’5 sassy AF Gemini, who has a bad case of resting bitch face. I’m real sarcastic but also love to make people laugh and be happy (even if I might be in a dark place). I am super cynical but also a hopeless romantic. I’ve also been told I’m way too head strong and stubborn lol. I love to play video games, cook, and watch horror movies. 💖

（*´▽｀*）ofc you can!

.:.: 𝑀𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔/𝒷𝓃𝒽𝒶 :.:.

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Hitoshi doesn’t let you exhaust yourself

he’s an awfully perceptive boy, and very attentive when it comes to you; he sees when you’re gonna crash miles before you recognize it yourself

your willingness, your eagerness to make other people feel good even when you don’t is one of the many things Hitoshi adores abt you

that’s how you meet: you’re sitting outside of the arena, miserable because you’ve lost in the sports festival, but then Hitoshi stumbles into you on his way to the bathroom and you start gushing about how cool his quirk is and how amazing he was today—and he can tell your excitement is genuine because you’ve got literal sparkles in your eyes

he knew exactly what kind of person you were then and there, pawing at him like he’s hung the moon while mourning your own loss? you’re dangerous, too bright for someone like him to associate with

you, ofc, shit all over that LMFAO

after pandering Shinsou into exchanging numbers, you invite him out and to the dorms like you’ve known him for your entire life—& he has no choice but to be flattened by the hurricane that is your affection

he beats you in every video game the two of you play. literally, every fucking one and it infuriates you.

shinsou can start to tell when you get to simmering, and will try? to let you win? but that makes you even more mad!

when you cook, you strong arm him into helping you. he tries to insist that he’ll be no help, but you aren’t having it and then he’s in a frilly, KISS the Cook apron with butter smeared across his cheek and then he’s steaming out the ears when you kiss it off

—“Am I not supposed to kiss the cook?” You titter unassumingly when he glowers at your sudden attempt to embarrass him. (He’s definitely embarrassed.)

—“Very funny.”

you aren’t prepared for when smears pancake batter below your chin and lifts you up around the waist to lick it off

the two of you are definitely argue-prone

the way you’re both sarcastic and stubborn AND cynical???

but shinsou thinks you’re pretty fucking funny with that mouth of yours—except when it’s loaded and aimed at him

the romantic part of you is felt in the way you touch him in the mornings, like you’d never let him go if you had the choice. and he knows exactly how you feel

hitoshi has an ear for hearing out people’s voices (bc of his quirk and support gear) so he‘s incredible at picking out your moods through the tone in your voice

he thinks you love him most right before you fall asleep & least when he comes home late on your anniversary because of trouble down at the agency

jokes on him! because your achy little heart wiggles her fingers for him all of the time

shinsou loves horror movies almost more than you do—but only psychologic thrillers; they’re his go-to comfort flicks. he’s not really into gore

ever since you met him, Friday’s are the designated Horror Film Movie Nights

he likes to have you tucked into his side while watching 😌

[huge6s-blog]

RANDOM FACTS ABOUT THE MUN.

Repost, not reblog! Tag 6 muns you would like to get to know better when done!

Name: Kaitlyn! Please, for the love of god, never use it.

Nickname: Katy, Kat, variations; (Katydid, Katybug, Kitkat, etc.) But if you wanna call me something else, that’s fine too!

Age: 22! Simultaneously too old and a wee bab, lmao

Faceclaim: Not something I do! I could never pick just one, besides maybe my own face! (I’d thought about using Shuu Iwamine or Rize Kamishiro before, if that says anything haha)

Pronouns: Your highness/My liege She/Her! But “they/them” is good too.

Height: ~5’6”-5’7”; I can’t remember the last time I checked.

Birthday: Poppin’, obviously March 30th.

Aesthetic: Purple and black?? EGNautilus scientists tittering excitedly over adorable or exciting sea creatures. Omnipresent Mountain Dew cans, fast food and colorful kneesocks. 2AM adventures on clear nights in summer that last until dawn starts sending it’s first beams into the sky. Spacey FPS games and cutesy RPG and Pokemon games interspersed throughout. Weathered frames and tired eyes. ROBOTS… I have no idea, man. A lot of things!

Last song you listened to: “The Thief and the Moon” by Shawn James!

Favourite muse(s) you’ve written: kfkjdf. Sixes definitely counts,, Uhh. My first was a canon-divergent Eridan, who I’d played before Act 6 was even close to being a thing! And he was a lot of fun. Accidentally made a “do not that” meme that still sometimes plagues me to this day ldkfdk A dream-bubble/dead Karkat who’d been murdered in his timeline’s Gamzee’s rampage and only had one eye, he was a biiiig favorite. I loved having enough energy for that all; typing that much shittalk??? Was one of the most fun things I’ve ever done in roleplay, holy shit. Entire fucking PAGES of just these absolutely USELESS rants because that nubby little shit had so much passion for it. Fuck. I loved Karkat. A bloodswapped, cobalt-blooded Karkat who was also post-game for a pre-established timeline where trolls and humans co-existed on the same planet(s). He was a Thief of Blood and a massive asshole; at his worst, he was manipulative, isolative, vengeful, restless… But also, he was a really big dork??? He LOOOOOVED spy movies and probably popped boners regularly for Black Widow and James Bond or the Kingsmen. Fucking nerd. He fancied himself a spy; his best friend was a badass hacker, and they’d (F)LARP together as a stereotypical “you hack, I’ll infiltrate” team. Before Earth, he never cared about Christmas, but one year his richass neighbourhood started putting up flashy decorations and he got jealous, so he stole a shitton of them to make his own house look the best. He’s so… So stupid. I love him so much. And of course, jumping off the Homestuck bandwagon; I have Lv/Hadz! My dorky, sadsack pun machine. A (sort of, mostly) secret post-genocide Sans; the Bad Run™ had been reset after completion, but something went wrong, so he remembers it. Still, he’s been running for like, two years now! So he’s had a lot of time to go and bury all that as deeply as monsterly possible lmaooo. He’s distrusting, paranoid, and isolative himself; but he’s probably the most all-around good guy on this list. He just wants to get on with his life and never have to fight anyone ever again, lmfao. I… I also have a few OCs, but you’ll have to pry those out of my cold, dead hands. … Carefully. With lots of reassurance. (I’m very shy…)

What inspired you to take on your current muse (that you are posting this on): I like… Undertale. And I like Underfell enough that once the idea was presented to me, my mind kinda ran away with it, haha. It started with Hopper, my weird UF Sans! But it feels like every time I approach the AU I have slightly different ideas for it, pfft. I guess with Sixes, I wanted to step away from the skeletons for awhile! I was really excited about messing with Mettaton for it, because I… Really liked listening to the radio for awhile, haha. I thought it’d be kind of cool if instead of being really excited to be seen flaunting himself across a television set, he wasn’t so happy with how he turned out physically, and made his influence a little less directly visible. It fit in well with the seemingly common theme of conflict in Underfell, and things just really exploded from there! It’s hard to summarize in just a few short words. That said, Sixes probably wouldn’t have a blog at all if it wasn’t for tumblr user wibler’s- Sixes’ Sans!- mun coaxing me into giving it a shot! She has a lot of faith in my creative abilities. I dunno what I’d do without her support through the past few years, heheh. She’s neat.

What are your favourite aspects of your current muse: LOUD ANGRY ROBOT LMFAO Shit though, I dunno! I like writing a character who goes through the bipolar disorder motions, the manics and the depressives. I love watching him go hot and cold on characters as he flipflops through his impulses and subsequent regrets. I love that in his timeline, everyone knows him while he himself actually… Hardly knows anyone at all. He’s made himself untrustworthy, and in turn doesn’t trust anyone, either, so he hardly ever opens up beyond… You know. Angry screaming, or shameless flirting and flattery, ignoring personal space bubbles… I love that his Sans being absent kind of smacked him on the nose, because that was someone he was actually making a connection with, but tried to play it off like Sans was just another moment in his life so he kind of treated him like a dick lmao. Deadass knew the poor little dude had anxiety issues and scared him on purpose, made joking death threats, joked about flirting with his shittyass brother… Sixes was such a prick. Fuck. And he realizes that! And after ditching his family just to have a cataclysmic fallout with his other BFF, Alphys, Sans disappearing… It’s something he blames himself for. It kind of sobered him up a little to the way his actions affect people. AND DESPITE EVERYTHING, HE STILL USES HIS CAMERAS (THAT HE STOLE FROM ALPHYS IN A PETTY FIT) SCATTERED ACROSS THE UNDERGROUND AND HIS SHITTY TRAP ROOMS IN HOTLAND TO PUBLICALLY HUMILIATE RANDOM CITIZENS IN A WIPEOUT-ESQUE PODCAST ON THE UNDERNET. At least that assholitude earns him money, though! Fuck. I also reaaallly love how different AUs bring out different aspects of his character, but that’s a rant for another time or place! Hoo. I dunno, man. I could go on about Sixes for like, ever. He’s a really fun muse.

What’s your biggest inspiration when it comes to writing: I’m… I’m not even gonna lie, a lot of it is the positive feedback lmao. I don’t, uh. Do much these days, creatively or recreationally speaking, and I don’t really have a lot of friends IRL… Er, any, actually, if you’re only counting closehand. All my friends live hundreds of miles away, and it sucks. But this is… Simultaneously social and creative. I get to talk to people, and make friends, and toss creativity back and forth with people, and it’s really fulfilling. I love to be a part of other people’s creative processes! I love seeing what other people do with THEIR characters, and when we all??? Interact??? Mother of God, it’s such a treat! Everyone’s so creative and impressive and inspiring… And hearing/seeing us all go back and forth about what we admire in each other… I’m pretty happy with just being a part of writing, and telling other people that I love what they do! But every now and then it comes back around to me in little ways, and it feels really special. It’s hard to imagine anyone liking my stuff past a “they’re pretty cool I guess, yeah” sentiment, despite my glittering impression of a lot of the writers in the community; so when someone DOES say they like my stuff, even just by saying they like a drawing, or like the way I described something, I go OFF THE WALL LMAO. Straight up dissolve and slip through the floorboards a la Gaster style with how lovely it feels. Shucks… And, you know. Watching characters develop in general- whether they be mine or not- is really fulfilling and inspiring. A good cycle.

Favourite types of threads: Anything that feels meaningful! I love it when two characters make any kind of connection, despite the context. That said, typically “angst” and “fluff” style threads are a big favorite, but there has to be, like… you know. Meaning to it. It feels really… I dunno, cardboardy to just throw a muse into a woodchipper for no particular reason just to have them drag themselves to another muse begging for help or to have a chance to explain some kind of deep, edgy feeling or story. Baseless fluff has a lot more wiggle room lmao, but that can get really monotonous really quick if something more significant fails to spark somewhere along the line. Just so long as something’s getting achieved somehow, I guess! If it feels like nothing’s changed between the two at the end of the thread, it feels really unfulfilling and hollow.

Biggest struggle in regards to your current muse: URRRGH. IMPLEMENTING THE RADIO SHOW/PODCAST THING… On one hand, Sixes has kind of collected the idea that the multiverse is a very indifferent place towards the goings-on within his timeline! And, he supposes, that that suits him fine. Hurts his pride a little, but it’s something he’s just going to curl up and lick his wounds for, pfft. But still! I wish I knew how to make it a little more obvious and prominent- The same could go for his growing industry, too! I guess I’ve just been jobless too long to really have a feel for it like I should, oof… Additionally, drawing him is reALLY HARD… He’s in his classic box form most of the time because he’s really insecure about his EX form, and yet I draw his EX form more than anything because the box is frustrating to draw??? And despite it all, I’m still not sure I’m terribly happy with how his EX form looks!!! He’s supposed to be a little closer to a NEO design than initially planned, as Alphys fully intended him to be a KILLING MACHINE from the start without telling him! But he caught on early on, and they kind of bullied each other into compromising a bunch of things until he was just this “hideous” mess that neither of them were terribly happy with… So, you know. The indecision carried over to me too, evidently! Ugh.

Tagged by: nah! Just stole it was all. (from slobbyseconds/coolskeletonsdontcry forever ago, but just got around to now. kfjf)

Tagging: Anyone who wants to! @ me back if you do it, though; I love reading these things!