#the shadows are kind of messy but oh well

[multishipper-baby]

This took way too long but now it's mostly finished so: Ultimate Mechanic Springtrap :) I gave him the same outfit he had in that one B.O.Y.S. music video because I thought it fit him perfectly.

[kira-light0]

Today I learned that I cannot draw well in pen unless the page is filled with terribly drawn doodles.

[mariclerc]

Dad duties | cl16

Summary: where you meet an adorable dad and his little girl at the beach. Warning: none, just dad!charles, a little emotional, instant crush and FLUFF, pure fluff.

a/n: Hii, a long time ago I was thinking about doing a story about what Charles would be like as a single dad... Something crazy, I know, but I hope you like it!! Let me know if you want a part two of this <3

Part 2 Part 3

Sun gleams off the turquoise water, gentle waves lap at the shore. You walk along the beach, toes sinking into the warm sand. Giggles suddenly catches your attention, you turn to see a little girl, barely a year old, with bright eyes and a head full of messy curls, crawling determinedly towards you. She reaches you, grabbing a handful of your sundress. You smile, kneeling down to her level.

“Hey there, little one. You seem a little bit lost.”

The girl babbles happily, reaching for your sunglasses. You chuckle and gently remove them, placing them on top of your head.

A shadow falls over you. You look up to see a tall, handsome man with kind greenish eyes and sun-streaked hair... He looks slightly flustered.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry, that's my little escape artist Ava, come here to Papa munchkin.” He smiles apologetically.

Ava squeals and reaches for him. He scoops her up effortlessly, her tiny giggles filling the air.

“Don't worry, she's adorable! How old is she?” you asked.

“One year old, going on a hundred!” He winces as Ava grabs a fistful of his hair. You can't help but laugh. “Ouch, sweetie that hurts!” He says and Ava giggles.

“Looks like she has you all wrapped around her little finger.”

“Definitely.” he chuckles.

He introduces himself as Charles, you tell him your name. To your surprise, the conversation flows easily, you learn he's a single dad, the love and devotion evident in his gaze as he talks about Ava. He opens up about his complicated relationship with his ex (Ava's mother), the challenges of dating as a single parent. You listen intently, impressed by his honesty and dedication to his daughter.

“You seem to be doing a great job, Charles. And that's impressive, you know, how hard you work and try to be the best every day for her.” you smile.

Ava snuggles closer to him, burying her face in his neck.

“I manage to do a good job... It's definitely a handful, but she's worth it all.” he smiles.

A comfortable silence settles between you. You steal a glance at him, then quickly look away, cheeks warming. You sense a similar flicker of something unspoken in his eyes.

“Well, maybe I should let you get back to building sandcastles with your princess.” You say with a bit of haste.

“Actually, I was wondering... Would you maybe, I don't know, maybe... Want to grab some ice cream with us sometime? Ava loves company, and frankly, so do I.” He speaks hurriedly.

You feel a flutter in your chest. This unexpected encounter has taken a sweet turn. “I'd love to. Thanks!” you smile.

Ava lets out a delighted squeal, as if sensing the possibility of ice cream, You and Charles giggle at her reaction.

“Great! How about next Saturday? Same place? How does that sound?”

You nod. “Sounds perfect.”

He smiles, you can see how the corners of his eyes wrinkle, something very cute for you. “Perfect... Ehm, here! Write down your number and I'll write down mine.” He says as he takes out his cell phone to give it to you and you take yours out of your beach bag to hand it to him.

You wrote your number on his cell phone with the name of: "y/n the life-saver 🎀". When he finishes he gives you your cell phone back and you see that he has registered himself as: "Charles the handsome dad 😋" you can't help but laugh at the name.

“Well, then I'll write to you to keep in touch... Handsome dad.” You say with a giggle and he blushes.

Ava yawns, nuzzling deeper into his embrace.

“I think someone's getting tired.” you giggle while looking at Ava.

“She probably is. Sand and sunshine can be exhausting for little ones.” He says and then smiles a little. “This was unexpected... But so nice.” he says quietly.

“Yeah, definitely nice!” you say meeting his warm gaze.

A blush creeps up Charles' neck as he finally pulls back slightly.

“See you next Saturday then, Y/N, it was nice to meet you!”

You smile. “It was also nice to meet you both!”

He nods, a goodbye lingering in his eyes. Charles walks away, cradling a sleepy Ava in his arms, you watch them go, a warm feeling spreading through you. This chance encounter has blossomed into something promising, and as you turn towards your car, a smile lingers on your lips. The beach seems a little brighter now, filled with the promise of sunshine, ice cream, and maybe, just maybe, something more.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes in your pocket. It's a text message. You pull it out, expecting a message from a friend, but your heart skips a beat when you see the name displayed on the screen - Charles the handsome dad 😋.

Charles the handsome dad 😋: Ava just fell asleep. She kept asking for "y/n." Any chance you have a favorite ice cream flavor? Trying to win some brownie points for Saturday afternoon.

A laugh escapes your lips. He's charming, that's for sure. You quickly type a response.

y/n the life-saver 🎀: Chocolate chip cookie dough, always! And tell Ava I said goodnight. See you on Saturday cha!

You hit send and a warm feeling washes over you. This unexpected encounter has taken a delightful turn, and with a giddy anticipation for saturday's ice cream date, you turn back towards the ocean. The waves seem to whisper a promise of something exciting to come, and you can't wait to see where this newfound connection might lead.

***

The cheerful clinking of spoons against ice cream sundaes fills the air. You sit across from Charles at a brightly colored table, a giant chocolate chip cookie dough sundae melting in front of you. Ava, nestled comfortably in a high chair, digs into a kid-sized strawberry sundae with a look of pure bliss.

He chuckles “Looks like someone's enjoying their treat.”

Ava lets out a happy gurgle, a smear of red adorning her cheek. You laugh, you leaned towards her to wipe her cheek.

“She's definitely got a sweet tooth.” you say while wiping her cheek.

Charles takes a bite of his own sundae, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just like her dad. Thanks for the recommendation, this cookie dough ice cream it's fantastic!” he smiles.

“My pleasure, I'm glad you both like it.”

Ava reaches out, grabbing a stray piece of cookie dough from your sundae. You laugh, helping her bring it to her mouth.

“Careful, little one, that's a big bite!”

Charles watches the interaction between you and Ava, a smile playing on his lips.

“You seem to have a way with kids.” He says softly while looking at the two of you with adoration.

You shrug. “I guess so, I have a younger brother, so I've had my fair share of practice.”

The conversation flows easily between bites of ice cream, you learn more about Charles' life as a single dad, the challenges and rewards that come with it, he talks about his passion for racing, a twinkle in his eyes as he describes his dream of one day competing professionally. You share your own dreams and aspirations, surprised at how comfortable you feel opening up to him.

As Ava starts to get cranky, signaling the need for a nap, you suggest taking a walk along the nearby park. Charles readily agrees.

A comfortable silence settles between you. You both steal glances at each other, the unspoken attraction hanging heavy in the air. You reach the edge of the park, the familiar beach stretching before you.

“Looks like we're back where it all began.” you blush slightly.

“It does, doesn't it? Funny how things work out.” he smiles.

He stops walking, turning to face you. Ava lets out a whimper in her sleep, prompting Charles to gently bounce her in his arms.

“This was... so nice, I mean, this sweet afternoon and last week at the beach, it's very... Unexpected, but very good.” He says quietly with a smile on his face.

You meet his gaze, your heart fluttering in your chest.

You smiled. “I also liked it! Ava's such a sweetheart, and you seem like... a good guy, a really good and nice guy.”

He smiles back, a genuine warmth radiating from his eyes.

“I, uh... I was wondering if maybe, sometime next week, you'd like to have dinner? Just the two of us, after Ava's asleep?” He says with a bit of hesitation.

Your stomach does a nervous flip-flop, but a wide smile stretches across your face.

“I'd like that very much Charles.”

A wave of relief washes over Charles. He leans forward slightly, his eyes searching yours.

“Great... In that case, how about I give you a proper goodbye this time?” He says with a bit of flirtation in his voice.

Before you can respond, he leans in further, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss is brief, sweet, and filled with unspoken promise.

Ava lets out a startled gurgle, breaking the spell. Charles pulls back with a laugh, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Looks like our little chaperone wants to get home.” he chuckles and blushes.

“Seems that way.” you giggled while blushing.

He walks you back to your car, Ava snuggled contentedly against his chest.

“Text me when you get home, so I know you made it safe. And maybe, just maybe, you can tell me what your favorite dinner is.” He says while blushing a little.

You laugh a little bit. “Don't worry, you'll be very well fed.”

He smiles, a hint of something deeper lingering in his gaze. You wave goodbye as he drives away with Ava, a warmth spreading through your chest. The unexpected encounter at the beach has blossomed into something exciting, and as you watch the sun disappear over the horizon, you can't wait to see where this new path might lead.

[loveandmurders]

Just imagine Billy flirting with you whenever you're at the same party and Stu always sitting next to you in class, even though you don't bother answering either of them.

The boys can't explain it but they feel you are special. They want to know more about you, to discover you and your secrets.

You, on the other hand, you are not interested in them - or in anyone - because you're a killer and you don't want people to find out what kind of monster you truly are.

Imagine you enjoy to lurke in the shadows when you hear that Ghostface strike again. You like their style and you enjoy how messy the crime scenes are. Sometimes, you even find your own prey near by.

But that one night you catch Billy removing his Ghostface mask. You think he was just a disturbed guy trying to scare off the neighborhood. The next day, you notice Stu is hurt like the news reported Ghostface to be.

So, of course, you decide to follow the two of them to make sure they actually are the killers wandering in town. You are good at hiding in the shadows, and soon enough you discover their secrets.

Imagine becoming interested in them after that because they might finally be people able to understand you. So you start to flirt back with Billy and you start to tease Stu and chat around with them both.

They enjoy the attention and soon enough you become a thing, even if it isn't anything official because it would draw too much attention on the three of you.

Imagine you decide to fuck with them and you start to dress as Ghostface to kill your own victims. The police doesn't understand what is going on as you are killing people who aren't related to Sidney in any way.

Billy and Stu are absolutely losing it as well. In a way, you are helping them but at the same time you are messing up with their plans. You are finding it very funny.

At some point, they decide to put the murders aside to discover who is toying with them like that. But, fuck you're good at hiding and how could they suspect their cute baby girl?

The night they catch you, the three of you in your Ghostface costumes, you're quick to remove your mask before they could hurt you.

"Oh come on, guys, no need to be mad. I was just playing around with the two of you" you pouted

Billy doesn't know if he wants to fuck you or to kill you. Stu perfectly knows he wants to eat you out.

[miquella-everywhere]

ALRIGHT THOUGHTS ON THE TRAILER LETS GO

This lady is without a doubt Marika, there is absolutely no way she isn't

So with the official website saying that the Realm of Shadow was the place that Marika became a God and from what the trailer is saying about a betrayal, and her evidently taking something from someone, its easy to conclude that Marikas ascension was bloody and dramatic as hell

Like look at that gate of bodies goddamn that goes hard

Messie is a bad boy eternally waging war on a different side of reality just to spite his mother(possibly)

Edit: Oh? But then again it says "purge" and Marika did apparently go to great lengths to make sure the Realm of Shadow was hidden and forgotten, so perhaps Messmer is waging war, purging all that's there, on behalf of his mother in the shadows???? messmer is ultimate mamas boy confirmed lol

You can definitely see where he got his title as Impaler lol

Hello hello, now who on earth are you 👀👀(this design is way to awesome to not be someone important! who could they be? could it be godwyn????)

I've had a theory about these things stewing in my brain for a while now and it's that these beacons of light are obviously being left behind by Miquella. And since we are being guided by him, these beacons are our guides to him. But there are several things in both trailers that hint to me that Grace possibly does not exist in the Realm of Shadow, so then these rings will serve as the DLCs sites of grace curtesy of Miquella

Thats so kind of him lol

Speaking of kind! He has the new aptly fitting moniker of Miquella the Kind UwU god i love him 😭

I also love more proof contributing to the death of all "evil miquella" theories akdhsjsj

Miquella abandoning his fate is somehow synonymous with Trina 🤔🤔🤔🤔

You know how I said that Miquella represented hope to me a while back?

WELL THIS IS THE MOST HOPEFUL A FROMSOFT GAME HAS EVER BEEN!!!! :D MIQ SQUAD PULL UP!!!!

OOOOH I JUST KNOW THAT ALL OF THESE BASTARDS ARE GONNA HURT ME SO HARD EMOTIONALLY KAHDDHSH 😂

[base0h]

Meeting his parents

a/n - can we please take time to imagine what meeting corazon would be like 😭

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, modern au, (dragon is out getting the milk so garp is here instead)

- garp told him to wait until he was 30 to start dating

- he didn’t listen

- “Luffy I don’t know if I should meet your grandpa if he was against you dating..”

- “Oh trust me! He’s gonna like you! Hehe :)”

- you were nervous- all Luffy’s told you about him was that Garp used to beat him up ALL the time (and he still does)

- as you guys walked up towards his house, you could see two people scurrying away from the window, a blonde guy, and a black haired one

- you were concerned- but didn’t pay much attention, maybe those two were Luffy’s older brothers

- as Luffy unlocked the door, the two boys were waiting there with crossed arms, “Luffy?? Who’s that??” The black haired one asked with an eyebrow raised

- “don’t be mean ace.” The blonde one pushed him away before outstretching his hand with a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you! I’m sabo, that’s ace, and we’re Luffy’s older brothers.”

- Aw, sabo seemed like such a polite guy! Very different from Luffy.. Someone cleared their throat, a large figure looking down at you, a shadow covering you. Oh god. Your fate was sealed. Luffy’s grandpa was going to punch the shit out of you, and you weren’t even 18 yet!

- Sabo and Ace looked fearful as they stood off to the side, staring up at their grandpa. The atmosphere was dark, so heavy and intimidating.

- even Luffy wasn’t talking… It seemed as though their grandpa was quite the scary guy-

- you contemplated running away, but from the looks of it, you knew that the man would probably be able to catch you within two seconds

- “Uh… Hi? I’m- y/n… The one that’s dating luffy… Nice to m-meet you.”

- you were stuttering, your hands shaking as your eyes begged his grandpa not to kick your ass to the moon

- “LUFFY.” His voice echoed throughout the neighborhood, you turned around to see the neighbors running into their homes, shutting all the doors and windows

- WHAT THE FUCK? WERE YOU GOING TO DIE??

- Sweat beads formed on your nose and forehead as you clenched your hands into tight fists, praying to god that you wouldn’t get to meet Jesus today

- “Why didn’t you introduce me sooner?! Y/n seems like a very polite person! UNLIKE YOU!” Garp smacked the shit out of your boyfriend angrily before smiling at you, holding his hand out for a handshake

- You were going to faint, you hadn’t been breathing throughout this entire interaction out of pure fear. “It’s a pleasure to meet you y/n! You’re welcome to come inside!” Garp said with a grin, beckoning for you to come inside

- omfg you swore you almost shit your pants. But as the night went on, Garp was actually a very friendly grandpa! (But he beat up ace, sabo, and mostly Luffy the entire night)

- Law was hesitant to bring you over to his house, but you weren’t sure why..

- Was his house messy? Were his parents mean? Or maybe he was embarrassed of bringing you over??

- the thoughts circled your mind, and soon enough, you heard the doorbell ring. You were surprised Law didn’t just open the door himself, but maybe he just forgot his keys

- you swore you heard something breaking apart inside, as well as a thump against the floor that shook the entire house

- um… that wasn’t normal, right?

- law looked annoyed, sighing as he rested his disappointed face in his hands. The door opened, revealing a literal GIANT??

- you had to crane your neck up just to see this man’s face! He bent down to the doorway, and his smile almost blinded you with kindness

- “Ahh! You must be y/n!!! Oh my gosh! I’ve heard so much about you!!” He said, almost bouncing up and down in the air

- oh my gosh- this guy was SO excited. It made you so happy to see that Law’s dad was this happy to see you :)

- “Cora-san, did you break the oven again?”

- “Uh. No.. It was already broken! I swear.”

- poor law, maybe this was why your poor boyfriend was always so stressed. You smiled awkwardly at the tall guy, introducing yourself even though he already knew who you were

- “Law’s been telling me ALLL about you. He talks about you a lot.”

- “SHH! No I don’t!”

- “Oh come on! You said y/n is the most amazing person you’ve met!”

- “CORA-SAN SHUT UP!”

- Aw, Law talked about you?? That was enough to make you blush, “Awww you talk about me???”

- You and corazon were going to be the death of this man, and throughout the night, Corazon asked all about your hobbies and stuff. He wanted to know EVERYTHING. And I mean, literally everything about you

- “Oh my god. So- law still sleeps with his germa figures, you didn’t hear it from me!”

- “OMG REALLY?”

- law will chase Corazon around with a pan to get him to shut the fuck up. But it never worked, you learned many secrets about law that night

- “ALSO HE REALLY LIKES IT WHEN YOU SEND HIM THOSE MUSIC PLAYLISTSSS!! LAW DONT KILL ME!”

- “THEN SHUT UP IF YOU DONT WANT ME TO KILL YOU!”

- “YOU LIKE MY PLAYLISTS?!”

- also quick reminder that Doffy was there and remained quiet the whole time, watching chaos unfold while he sipped his wine 💀

- Ace was so excited to bring you over, he ALWAYS talked about how cool his mom was. He never talked about his dad, but referred to someone as “pops”. Maybe that was his dad?

- “My mom’s going to love you y/n, don’t be nervous!”

- how could you not be nervous??? Ace told you he had 1666 brothers?! Wtf??

- as you two walked up the pathway to his house, you noticed a beat up white van in the driveway… It looked especially good for kidnapping kids- and giving away free candy..

- Ace opened the door, and literally a MOB. I mean a MOB of people crowded around you two with giddy smiles. They were definitely expecting your arrival..

- “Hi y/n! We’re Ace’s brothers :))” -all of them

- ….wtf

- Ace could tell you were overwhelmed, you looked like you were about to faint! “Ok guys- maybe some space would be nice??” They listened to Ace, and backed off, a woman stepped forward, and she had the same freckles as ace! Must be his mom :)

- “Ah! Y/n! It’s so lovely to meet you.” His mom was so pretty!! She had long pink hair, brown eyes, and the same freckles around her nose and cheeks like ace

- You smiled politely and introduced yourself to Ace’s enormous family. You didn’t see Ace’s pops, but maybe he was just busy

- “I never thought- that someone would fall in love with ace.” *dramatic sniffle* -Marco

- “Huh?! What’s that supposed to mean Marco?!” -Ace

- Ace’s mom took you aside as the two kept fighting, and had a nice little chat. She asked about how you were doing, and what you liked to do in your free time.

- “I’m so glad Ace found you! He really cares about you- and he talks about you all the time! He kept telling me how amazing, kind, and talented you were :) also I’m super grateful for you helping him to stay awake in class… I’ve gotten many parent teacher conferences because of it..” Rouge was such a kind person, and you were so happy that Ace thought you were that amazing

- and yes, Ace did fall asleep a lot in class, so it became your job to wake him up before the teacher did.. It’s helped his grades a lot 👌

- overall, you mostly just chatted with Rouge while Ace’s brothers bombarded him with questions about you

- roger is out getting the milk with dragon btw

a/n - Corazon is totally your law gossip bestie now

[kingkatsuki]

— when you stand up for him

Masterlist.

Warnings: 18+, v v suggestive, Bakugou’s always having nasty thoughts about you, not proofread.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.9k.

Since you’d started working at Dynamight’s agency you’d found out firsthand how defamatory the media could be. There was often a mixture of positive and negative headlines for all the Pro-Heroes in the top fifty, some more negative than others. Cellophane had been stuck in a messy situation just last week when a saucy text chain had been leaked to the press, the lewd messages accompanied by a rather salacious picture of him in a state of undress. Obviously an attempt by the media to paint him in a bad light, but it actually ended up thrusting him into the top ten.

“He woulda sent that fuckin’ dick pic to anyone that asked.” Bakugou scoffed when you’d told him, grinning at the cheesy headline “Cellophane stuck in a sticky situation.”

But in particular, the media seemed hellbent on making a villain out of Dynamight. A well-known fact that they knew sold papers. His brash personality and fiery quirk made him an easy target for those sleazy tabloids to ridicule. Painting the perfect picture of Number One Pro-Hero Deku, and demonising the Number Two who was always hiding in his shadow.

Of course, the media scrutiny didn’t bother Bakugou much, far used to these words for them to have any real bite. The judgement seemed to have followed him since he was a teenager, and he’d spent the better part of his adult years trying to prove himself through his actions. And although you didn’t know it, your opinion meant far more to Bakugou than a handful of gossip magazines.

It wasn’t unusual for these reporters to call through to the Dynamight agency, especially after a successful mission. Each outlet wanting to be the first to get the scoop hot off the press from the main man himself, but fortunately for Bakugou you were the final roadblock between them and the Pro-Hero.

Most of the time you could weed through the good calls and the bad, finding the best opportunities for Dynamight to showcase himself to the world and add those precious boosts to his hero ranking. Knowing firsthand how much Bakugou hated any kind of interview environment, preferring to showcase himself through his hard work, you were careful with the engagements that you picked. The few he did were always enough to keep him sitting comfortable in second place.

You groaned when you realised who you’d ended up with on the phone, the lead journalist for The Heroic Choice, a controversial tabloid that had just published a rather scathing article about Pro-Hero Welder. And you were certain judging by the “direct” quotes that most had been stretched out of context to fit their narrative.

“Thanks for taking our call,” The voice spoke on the other end of the line, not that you’d had much choice, “Dynamight hasn’t responded to any of our emails, so I thought it best to try and reach you directly.”

“Yes, well Dynamight’s a very busy hero.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh, we’ve heard. We had a very concerned reader call in earlier to tell us that Dynamight almost killed someone again—” You were already seething at the accusation when the reporter continued, “How many totalled buildings is it this year? The budget must be at breaking point by now, or is it less a budget and more hush money for the victims? Almost as bad as a villain, wouldn’t you agree?”

You weren’t sure what came over you in that moment. Some would probably argue that it was the amount of love that you had built inside you for Bakugou Katsuki that made you want to protect and defend him with your life, or it could’ve just been the fact that being his secretary meant you got to see a side of him that no one else was lucky enough to see. The Hero that dedicated so many hours of his life to protecting the city and its residents, putting his own life at risk to ensure that people made it home safely to their loved ones. The countless amount of times you’d visited him in hospital or done a rather bootleg patch up of his injuries in his office after hours. The scars that now littered his body each held their own story of a time where Dynamight put others before himself, and you weren’t about to let some gossipy B-rate magazine besmirch him. Especially to try and call him, the man that would give his life for others, a villain.

So you did what Bakugou probably would’ve done, you exploded.

You weren’t even sure where it came from, certain in the months that you’d been working for Dynamight you’d never once let your temper get the best of you, even with particularly troublesome callers. His personality must have been rubbing off on you, as you continued to argue back and forth with the man on the phone, your voice increasing in power the more he argued back.

The noise roused Bakugou from his mission report, crimson eyes looking up from his laptop as he tried to make out the shouting on the other side of his office wall. Pushing his desk chair back as he dropped his glasses on top of his laptop he made his way towards the hallway, thinking that another person was harassing you for some kind of Dynamight endorsement deal again. Tugging open the door Bakugou prepared himself to tell whoever it was to leave and stop pissing off his secretary but he was shocked to see you shouting on the phone.

“Dynamight is the greatest Hero of our generation and we’re lucky to have someone like him protecting our streets. There’s no telling what could happen if we didn’t have him. Did you know violent crime is down twelve percent since he entered the top ten? And that’s not including the crime syndicates he’s managed to infiltrate in the last three months—”

Bakugou had to stop in the doorframe at the sound of you listing off facts about him so effortlessly. Mouth agape like a fish out of water as he began to wonder who you were on the phone to, and how they had managed to rile you up to this extent.

You hadn’t even noticed him standing there as you continued to berate the caller, asking them whether they had looked up any crime statistics or whether they were just interested in a sleazy headline.

Bakugou didn’t know what to say, standing outside his office as he stared at you between furrowed brows. After hearing shouting outside, he hadn’t expected it to be coming from you, and he definitely hadn’t expected it to be because you were defending him to the media.

It had Bakugou’s chest swelling with pride as he continued to hear you list of reasons why Dynamight would never do an interview with The Heroic Choice, not that he needed you to tell them that. He could’ve easily given them his own list of reasons, the main one being their scathing reviews of anyone other than Pro-Hero Deku. His throat felt dry as he watched your eyes darken as you continued to argue with them on the phone, nostrils flared as he tried to fight the blood rushing directly between his thighs.

God, you were so fuckin’ perfect.

He’d never had anyone defend him to such a level, and it made it even more special that it happened to be you doing it— the woman he was so madly in love with. Even the shy, wide-eyed look you gave him when you noticed him watching you made his heart flutter as you exchanged the last few words with the tabloid over the phone.

You’d been so heated you hadn’t even noticed Bakugou shamelessly ogling you while you were on the telephone, although you were certain he’d heard you. Your voice at least a few octaves louder than necessary, but you couldn’t help it. The realisation you had an audience now dawning on you as you gave your boss a sheepish smile.

“I’m so sorry about that, sir.” You practically gushed as soon as you slammed the phone down, which immediately began ringing again, “It just makes me so mad, they talk like they know you but they really don’t know you at all—”

“Next time, get me.” He rasped, mainly because you didn’t deserve dealing with assholes like that on the phone, but also because Bakugou wasn’t sure if he’d be able to survive you taking another call like that without blowing his load in public. The thought of having to spend the rest of the day in damp boxers had him squirming as he turned around.

“Yes, sir. I know I should’ve, but he made me so angry. I’m sorry.” No matter how many times he told you not to call him sir, you would do it anyway and it did nothing to quell the ache in his pelvis.

“Take five.” Bakugou grumbled.

“Thank you si— Bakugou.” You stopped yourself with a smile as you stood up from the desk hesitantly.

Bakugou practically waddled back into his office, trying to conceal the tent between his thighs from your praise. The overprotective words had his cock throbbing as he tried to calm his racing heart, and it didn’t help you’d said his name. Slamming his office door a little harder than intended as he pressed his back to the hardwood. Eyes screwed shut as Bakugou made a feeble attempt at steadying his breathing, before glaring down at the obvious bulge. Silently willing it to disappear as he prayed you hadn’t seen it.

But Bakugou had left so abruptly with barely a word that you began to worry that you’d done the wrong thing, remembering Creati’s words one evening when she had been visiting the agency. “All press can be good press if you orchestrate it correctly.” Maybe Bakugou really was mad at you for losing your temper on the phone to one of Musutafu’s biggest tabloids, you’d definitely guaranteed another negative Dynamight article about him. Your eyes glancing over to the shut door to his office as you gnawed your glossed lip between your teeth, pondering whether you should knock on the door to apologise. The phone began to ring again as you were making that decision, opting to pick it up and hopefully do some kind of damage control for his important public image. Hoping that the PR team wouldn’t find out just how hostile you’d been on the phone to a company representative. You had no idea that on the other side of the door, your boss was losing his cool because of you, but not for the reason you thought.

About a week later The Heroic Choice ended up posting their scathing article about Dynamight anyway, although it did little to smear his hero rating. Instead the article seemed to focus on his fiery little secretary who was seemingly even more tenacious than his newly appointed sidekicks.

“Dynamight’s secretary even more explosive than him? More on page six.” It was accompanied by a picture of you that Bakugou was certain they’d managed to take from one of your social media profiles.

You’d been so embarrassed when Bakugou had shown you the magazine with a smirk, highlighting his favourite parts of the article which happened to be the direct quotes of you defending his tenacity and altruism.

What you didn’t know was Bakugou had cut out this article and pinned it to the fridge inside his apartment, grinning at it whenever he passed. The picture they’d picked of you was real fucking pretty after all— it wasn’t his fault that it brought back the memories of you defending him every time he looked at it, his cock standing to attention when he remembered how irate you’d looked that day. Somehow it made you even prettier… But of course, he’d never tell you that.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Puppy Fight: Chaggie ft. Emily

Puppy Love part 3 / Jazzercise part 2

Charlie: (hyping herself up and shadow boxing as she walks into the new hotel gym) Alright! I got this! I've been working on my cardio. Just a few more sessions before- *SCREEEEEEEEEECH!!!!*

Vaggie: (wearing even shorter spandex shorts than last time, wrist wraps, and her sports bra, grunting as she works through a set of Muscle Ups, body absolutely slick with sweat) Eighteen!!!..... Gah, fuck! .......Nineteen!!!

Emily: (hair tied up in a messy bun, powder blue, long sleeve, skin tight exercise shirt, and navy blue shorts that cut off just below her glutes) Come on, Vaggie! You got this! One more!

Vaggie: (takes a deep breath, scowls as she grits her teeth, and nearly roars as she muscles her way up and over the bar into a full extension) Twenty!!!

Emily: (jumps and squeals excitedly) Woohoo! You did it! (makes another check on a whiteboard) That's three rounds of twenty muscle ups, fifty mountain climbers, and 100 jump-ropes!

Vaggie: (drops to the floor with a sigh, wipes her face with her black sweat rag, and takes a drink of water) Thanks for helping me push through, Emily. I was kind of surprised you even showed up. Charlie didn't have another group exercise planned for a couple more days when the next meeting with Heaven came up.

Emily: (staring bashfully at Vaggie's muscles) Oh! Well, you know! I figured it would be good to come down early! You know. Catch up with Charlie. (eyes scour over Vaggie's abs and shoulders) See the sights.

Vaggie: (suddenly feeling a little naked) Riiiiiiiiight.... Well, I'm gonna go hit the showers. Thanks again for the help. (quickly jogs towards the door and stops as she sees Charlie) Hey, Babe! I didn't know you were going to be working out today. You should have said something. I would have waited for you. (shifts her eye back at Emily)

Emily: (awkwardly looks around to make sure she isn't being watched before she sneakily takes the sweat rag Vaggie left behind)

Vaggie: (whispering back to Charlie with a slight blush and a wink) We could have shared a shower after.

Charlie: (heart throbs painfully) Dammit! How did I not think of that before now?!

Vaggie: (chuckles before kissing Charlie lightly on the cheek) Another time. I'll be sure to save you some hot water. Love you. (slips through the door and jogs up to their room)

Charlie: Love you too~ (eyes dart to Emily as soon as the door closes and she zips over to the pull up bars with a smile painfully plastered on her face) Hi, Emily!

Emily: Yipe! (jumps and hides Vaggie's rag behind her back) Oh! H-Hi, Charlie! H-How are you?

Charlie: I'm good. I'm good. (obviously not good as her tail slithers along the floor behind her like a snake ready to strike) I wasn't expecting to see you for a few days.

Emily: Oh! Yeah, well, l-like I told Vaggie. I figured I'd come down a little early so we could catch up!

Charlie: (sickly sweet tone) Well, what better way to catch up and build a bond than by exercising together?! (wraps an arm around Emily's shoulder tightly and leads her over to the treadmills) How about it, Emily? I'm sure you guys up in Heaven exercise all the time!

Emily: (balks) Actually, Charlie, I'm suddenly not feeling the greatest. I think I got teleportation sickness.

Charlie: Then a light jog should help you get that good airflow that you need. (pushes Emily on a treadmill and takes the one right next to her before turning them both on and ramping up the incline and speed to 5/10 and 6/10) This should be a good warmup, right?

Emily: eeep!

-Later-

Charlie: (sitting and soaking her dead legs in an ice bath with a whine-growl)

Vaggie: (brings in a protein shake and hands it to Charlie) And what did we learn?

Charlie: (growling and baring her teeth like an angry puppy as she takes the shake) To mark every last inch of your skin the week Emily arrives. (all sad and sappy) She's still my friend! (back to snarling as she takes a sip of her drink) But she needs to remember that you're MINE!!!

Vaggie: (blushing) ......Did I completely miss something?

-In one of the guest rooms-

Emily: (whimpering as she soaks her noodle legs in a hot bath) Owie.... (stares at the sweat rag on the bathroom sink) ......*sigh* Worth it. I'll have to apologize to Charlie later. I think she liked those rainbow sprinkles back in Heaven.

[simpstantruther]

Hungry Heart ch. 2 | (Mullet) Stanley Pines x Reader

Summary: Stan needs to go to Oregon. You need to get to California. Stan has a car. You have a cunt. (Can I make it any more obvious~)

(TW: Dated Language and ideas of sex and consent)

Tags: 80s Americana Roadtrip Partners-in-Crime Stan x Reader fic. Smut. You can fix him, but you're worse.

Preview:

Lee watches you with amusement over his coffee. He looks different when he’s well lit. Older. More worn. Especially with his hair slicked out of his face, so you can see how deep the bags under his eyes are. You prefer it messy.

He's a good time. Funny, but stupid. You didn’t know it was possible to fit a sausage link up one’s nose. It shouldn’t be, it was fucking gross. You stick your tongue out in playful disgust when he eats it anyways. He laughs like a boy.

Read on AO3.

The street light buzzing is so loud you can’t hear yourself think.

You can feel it between your shoulder blades, tense as the dry night air hits the sweat pooling down your back. The light casts a dark shadow beneath your feet as you stroll through the middle of the street trying to keep your feet on the faded yellow divider lines. You don’t. 

You’re still in Dallas. You think. 

You had a bed to sleep in tonight. Or maybe a couch, with the guy passed out across the covers like he did. You had already cleared out his pockets, peeked through a few drawers. 

You found a tiny gun. Fit right in the palm of your hand. Like it was left in that drawer just for you.

Then the poor fucker’s wife came home. 

When you heard the shotgun cock into place, you started running and didn’t stop, pockets considerably heavier. In the chaos, you forgot you nabbed the gun.

You’re glad you nabbed the gun. 

Now you don’t know where you are. As if you ever really knew anymore. Back streets like this all kind of blended together, no matter where in the U.S. you were dragging your sorry ass around. 

Empty dirt lot with a single bench, a sun shade and a bus stop to the left. Shit-hole liquor store, piss stained parking lot to the right. Food. Shelter. Pisser.  All one could ever need.

If only you had actual cash instead of valuables you needed to pawn.

You have a small gun now.

Stupid looking little revolver. Three in the chamber. Poor fucker couldn’t be assed to fill the thing? No wonder his wife wanted to kill him.

Your stomach growls. It wants to kill you.

Do you have it in you to stick up a place just to get something to eat?

You stop. 

Under the brilliant neon Open sign of the liquor store, in bright yellow, peeled-paint glory stands a pay phone. Handset intact. You suppress a cry of joy. You would fall to your knees in praise if you didn’t think you’d catch a disease on the rusted bolts holding it to the cracked concrete. One of the bolts is loose. It wants to leave too.

You feel in the change slot for a spare quarter, sticking your tongue out through the side of your mouth. Your fingertips brush against the ridged edge.

Holy shit.

If you’re not careful, you’ll use all your luck up in one night.

The miraculous quarter slips into the slot. You wait for the dial tone to buzz into your ear, white-knuckle-gripping the handset. 

Shit.

Who the fuck are you supposed to call in Dallas? A taxi? They don’t take gold chains. A shelter? They’re all closed. Did you want to get robbed?

You still couldn’t get to one even if you wanted to.

You hit the return button. Clink. At least you can pocket the quarter. 

As you slip it into your rear pocket, you feel the fuzzy, frayed edge of a business card. Why would you keep a business—

The Loveshack it says.

Why did you have a business card for The Loveshack? What even is The Loveshack?

You don’t know what possesses you, but you sniff the card. It smells unholy. Like beer, and sweat, and man-stink and— you need to sniff it again.

Why are you thinking of a mullet? 

It smells so familiar. Why does it smell familiar? And you feel like gagging, you hate tequila. 

Oh.

You slip the coin into the slot again, bouncing your heel as you wait for the other line to pick up.

“Front desk.” Crackles through the shitty speaker in the handset.

“Hi! G-Good evening—” Your old hostess voice possesses you. High and clipped and waiting to be reprimanded. An old reflex. You haven’t had a regular job in at least a year. You remember no greasy, stinking manager is breathing down your neck to sound pretty when you pick up the phone, so it returns to it’s deep natural state. 

“Hello?” The voice on the speaker croaks again.

“Patch me through to a room, please?”

“Which room?”

Shit. Which fucking room? You turn the card over. Nothing written anywhere. You don’t even remember the guy’s name. Maybe he didn’t know how to write. Honestly, all you remember is Bruce Springsteen and a mullet and thinking that his beefy hands might fit nice around your—

“Hello? Miss? Which room?”

“Uhhhh— don’t remember. He’s a guy, you know?” Of course they know, are you stupid? “Tall, big shoulders, shitty mullet—“ You motion to the top of your head as if the operator can see you.

“Patching you through.” 

The line goes quiet. You’re too anxious to bounce your heel anymore so you stand frozen, hunched over the pay phone box.

You hear heavy breathing on the line. Then a woman’s name, in a vaguely familiar, gruff Jersey accent.

“Who?” You question, confused.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” 

Oh. You gave him a fake name, you remember.

“It’s Lee.”

“I know! Lee!” You draw out his name overly-affectionately. “How the hell are ya?”

“You called.” 

“I did!” 

“...I didn’t think you would call.”

“I said I would call, didn’t I?” You shrug your shoulders, tucking the phone beneath your chin and leaning back against the phone box. 

You hear him scoff. “I don’t think you did.”

He’s probably right, it doesn’t sound like you to promise something like that.

“ 'S fine. I wanted you to call. I’m glad you did.”

You chew your bottom lip. He’s quiet on the line too, drowned out by the white noise. The plastic static of the handset against your ear makes you shiver even though it’s pushing 85.

“Look, Lee… I’m sorry to call you like this, but I’m in a bit of a bad way—“

“What’s wrong?” He asks quickly. His concern is cute. He doesn’t know you. If he knew you he’d know something’s always wrong. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You aren’t. There’s a pit growing in your stomach because you remember the last time you said those words to a semi-concerned party over the phone. About a year ago. You weren’t fine then, either. “You don’t have a car by chance, do ya? Or maybe just cab fare?”

“Where are you?” 

“Uh—“ You look around. The sign on the liquor store is missing letters. It's in a language you don't recognize. You aren't as worldly as you think.

“I got wheels. I’ll pick you up right now, sweetheart. Where are you?”

You silently cheer. You crane your neck and narrow your eyes to read a street sign, murmuring it into the receiver. You cross your fingers, bite your lip raw, and pray he heard you right. You can barely understand him through the crackling line.

“Give me twenty minutes, toots. An hour, tops. Don’t go nowhere.”

“I’ll be here!” You have nowhere else to go.

The line goes dead.

The hook is broken. You leave the handset on top of the box, swallow back your false cheerfulness and sit on the curb.

The street light buzzes above you, a spotlight on your failed state. You cannot hear yourself think. You are grateful.

You don’t have a watch. Giant, tacky bracelets hide your wrists well enough. So who knows how long it’s been once cars start pulling over and hollering at you to hop in. 

Cutting your jeans into daisy dukes seemed like a good idea once you got south of Memphis and the nights regularly cracked 90. It felt less so now, while rough concrete and gravel dug into your seat, sticking to your skin from sweat. 

You ready an empty glass bottle, aiming to launch it at the dark red convertible that slows beside you next.

“Easy there, sweetheart. Watch where you throw that thing. Can’t afford to replace the window again.”

You stand up so you can see past the half-rolled window.

“Lee?” You peer inside. 

It is Lee. He greets you with a wide smile, sliding out his door and moving in to hug you until he sees you flinch back. He blinks and freezes before nodding his head to himself and crossing behind the car. 

“After you, Angelface.” He cracks open the passenger door for you.

“What a gentleman.” You wheedle for him, grateful for the cushioned seat. You keep your eyes on him as he slams your door shut and gets back inside. A bit of caution was healthy. You shouldn’t trust him. He definitely shouldn’t trust you.

The front seat is clean. Vaguely. There’s a couple full trash bags sitting in the back seat. And a few beat up boxes of some bright blue towel thing, dye seeping everywhere it touches, and other assorted brand new junk headed straight for a landfill. It was like he raided the world’s shittiest truck load of useless crap. Why was he lugging around all this stuff?

It still reeks like cheap cigarettes. But at least it didn’t smell like tequila. You crack open your window anyways. 

“Where to?” Lee asks, smiling nervously as he shifts the car into gear, hand staying on the shifter knob between you. 

God, his arms. He’s punishing the thread around the sleeves, rolling them up like that. He put on a clean shirt for the occasion. And gas-station cologne. How sweet.

He shaved, too. You’re a little disappointed, though his jaw is nothing to be ashamed of. You wanna run your hand over his skin, mourn his five o’clock shadow. For the love of god, the man has dimples. Is he Catholic? Would he smack you if you use the lord’s name in vain? You kind of hope he does. Maybe you'll let him borrow one of the rings you 'found'.

You know you look like shit. You can see the outline of your tangled, frizzed hair in the dark in passenger side mirror. You’re never teasing your hair again.

If you pass by a street light, you know you’ll see the rest of yourself in the dirty yellow glow, looking haunting as ever. You angle the mirror away. No need for another reason to bum yourself out before your— whatever this is— with Lee.

You sigh and relax back into the seat, closing your eyes with relief as the rough road jostles you. Almost rocks you to sleep, right there in the passenger seat. 

He says your fake name again as you’re drifting off. 

“Sorry.” You yawn and smack your lips.

He waits for your answer. He can't go nowhere, after all.

You sigh.

“I’m gonna be honest, Lee. I got no idea where to go.”

He nods as he drives with his eyes forward. You already caught him glancing down at your chest after a particularly bad pot hole. He was on his best behavior now. You get to study his silhouette.

“Ain’t you stayin’ anywhere?”

“Nah. Got kicked out of my room this morning. Had a place lined up, but it fell through.” 

You hope he doesn’t ask more. He doesn’t. Good man.

Your stomach grumbles and you hunch over, desperate to subdue the sound. You were used to that by now.

“How about we get you somethin’ to eat, huh? That sound alright?”

“You sure?” You look up at him, your hand cradling your empty stomach.

“Hell yeah. Been dyin’ to take you out since you first glared at me. Dressed up for the occasion—thanks for noticin’.”

“Is that so?” You huff out a laugh. “Color me flattered. You clean up nice. But you’re full of it. I wasn’t glarin’ at nothin’.”

“Oh yeah? ‘Cos I liked it, you know. I thought you were makin’ eyes at me. I like when pretty girls make eyes at me.”

“You’re blind, bud.”

“Nahhh. ” He grins wider. “You like me. Think I’m handsome.” 

You neither confirm nor deny, but you smile as he turns away. You see him blinking and narrowing his eyes at the road signs as he drives. He’s probably blinder than you are. Maybe he regrets telling you to call him, now with your mess close enough to see.

“Pretty girls must be in short supply if you’re settling for me.” You mutter under your breath and lay back again. If he heard you, he doesn’t reply.

He pulls into a 24-hour diner. 

It’s like he read your mind. You could kill a breakfast combo right now. And however many coffees you can drink before they kick you out for not paying, unless Lee is more liquid than he looks.

You doubt it.

You spin around on your plastic-y little dinner stool, your busted heels hanging off your toes as you kick your feet around. The coffee is good . You would have preferred a booth for privacy, but this is fun too. 

Lee watches you with amusement over his coffee. He looks different when he’s well lit. Older. More worn. Especially with his hair slicked out of his face, so you can see how deep the bags under his eyes are. You prefer it messy.

He's a good time. Funny, but stupid. You didn’t know it was possible to fit a sausage link up one’s nose. It shouldn’t be, it was fucking gross. You stick your tongue out in playful disgust when he eats it anyways. He laughs like a boy.

He’s got nice teeth. Mom would be happy, if that kind of thing mattered now. You wonder if he’s Catholic. You don’t think you are anymore.

He makes you laugh ugly. It makes your cheeks hurt, the kind where you have to massage them for a while after. It feels good to laugh ugly.

He doesn’t ask about anything that matters. You like that.

You both check out the same waitress. You ask her for sugar free sugar, the real kind (whatever that means), and you both watch as she stands on a stool to look at the top shelf, her teeny uniform not covering much of anything. She’s probably eighteen. Doesn’t know any better.

Now you’ve been on both sides. It’s a rite of passage.

He tells you you’re prettier than her, but you pretend not to hear, flicking a folded up napkin towards the trash can behind the counter. Daddy always said you were a pretty girl. You used to hear that a lot more often. You’d believe Lee if it were a couple days ago, when you were within twelve hours of a hot shower. 

The napkin misses the trash can. You meet his eyes. He smirks.

You have an unspoken agreement with Lee.

You chew your soggy, jellied toast silently and without alarm while he pockets another customer’s tip.

He shovels scrambled eggs into his mouth and doesn’t mention anything as your fingers slip into the lady beside you’s pocket book. 

God bless 24-hour diners.

Combined, you probably have enough to pay for your food. You’re still a little short, not that the waitress would notice until you left, if she could count at all. But why leave it to chance? 

You both stand up at the same time, offering compliments to the chef, the lovely waitress—

“Where do you think you two are going?” A grimy hand wraps around your arm. It’s the cook. Or else he just smells like bacon grease. You feel less satisfied with how the food sits in your stomach, suddenly. “You ain’t paid yet.”

“Alright, keep your paws to yourself, pal—“ Lee knots his hand in the cook’s greasy shirt. Meaty fucking hand. God, the size of those fingers.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey—“ You hold your hands up in surrender. “We’re cool. No need to freak out. We’re cool, aren’t we?” 

“Still gotta pay for your fuckin’ food.” 

You have a small gun now. Your fingers itch to hold it again, to squeeze the grip made for your small hand.

You glance at the laminated menu another customer ducks their head behind. Quickly you stand beside Lee, pressing your chest against his side with your hand on his sternum. He’s warm. Solid, beneath the softness. It’s nice when he’s not damp with beer sweat. You try not to think about it. 

“Are you serious ? You—you think Mr. Denny pays at his own restaurants?” You motion to Lee with your hand. 

The cook balks at both of you, and Lee puffs out his chest. You try not to laugh.

“Bullshit you’re Mr. Denny. He’s gotta be like eighty or something.”

“J-Junior! Mr. Denny junior, obviously!” You take Lee’s jaw between your thumb and forefinger and aim his face at the cook. You’re suddenly grateful Lee combed his hair back. And that he knows when to keep his mouth shut. “See this? Spitting image!”

The cook glances at a blown up photograph hanging on the wall. White hair, beady eyes, the kind of jaw that recedes back into a neck. About the only thing similar to Lee was that they were both human. Maybe. 

Damn. You almost made it, too.

A giggle bubbles out of Lee’s throat as he catches sight of the photograph and the cook’s face goes red, burn-calloused hand reaching for Lee’s throat. A busboy with a tray full of dishes passes by at the wrong moment and you swing your hand up and knock the entire tray back against the cook. 

You leave behind a calamity of broken porcelain and gasps in your wake as you pull Lee by his hand out of the diner. He throws down a few chairs on his way to muddle the path to follow you both as you run. 

Even in busted heels, you’re faster than Lee. 

His huffing, red face would be entertaining if he wasn’t the one with the keys. 

“Drive, drive, drive!” You hollar, grin plastered to your cheeks as you smoosh your face and hands against the passenger window, watching in amusement as the cook and the waitress scramble outside and look around for you.

Lee’s braying laugh fills your ears as his car pulls out of the parking lot. You’re laughing too, content with wherever he sees fit to take you. You feel safe. You shouldn’t, but you do.

You have a small gun now.

Previous chapter.

Next chapter.

[shimonerin]

Secret Santa w/ the Jujutsu High Students

Content: Giving Itadori, Megumi, and Nobara their favorite gifts Tags: fluff Words: 1.7k

a/n: literally my first time writing again after a year or two and also my first time actually putting myself out there and posting lol I apologize if it's messy or lengthy TvT

Itadori Yuji

I feel like Yuuji would ask for a DVD/cassette collection of his favorite movies and TV shows since he really is a “TV child” and grew up watching those. And also because DVDs/cassettes are not really a thing nowadays, it kind of gives him nostalgia to be watching the same movies he used to when he was younger. 

Another thing I think he’d like is a snack basket. Just a basket filled to the brim with sweets and snacks and sodas. Just something he can eat and share with someone while he’s watching his shows.

Yuuji doesn’t ask for much and he’d be completely fine if you only managed to buy one of them or even a completely different gift. I mean, he’s basically going out every weekend in the cinemas and he’s more than capable of buying a few snacks for himself at the store. Everything else is just a bonus.

What he didn’t expect was for you to go out of your way to buy him everything on his wishlist and even gave him a meal voucher to one of the popular ramen restaurants in Japan. You know he likes rice bowls a lot and what’s better than giving him a voucher that’s worth at least three different rice bowls.

“No way! You bought all of this for me?” He exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with stars as he looked over the rack full of DVDs, a large snack basket, and a meal voucher. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes, seeing you make an effort into giving him something special. 

You smiled fondly at him, chuckling softly at his lightly pouting face “I might as well, right?” You tell him so casually, as if you didn’t just crawl your way into this man’s heart with your gifts.

Without a second thought, he threw himself at you, wrapping you in a tight, almost suffocating embrace before burying his face at the crook of your neck “You’re so awesome, you know that? I was secretly hoping you were my secret santa.” He murmured softly, which you find extremely endearing. Nobara and Gojo snickered behind you and you knew you’d find yourself in the middle of another teasing session over the next few days.

As soon as Yuuji let go of you, he grabbed both of your hands, holding it in front of your chest “We should definitely stop by that ramen restaurant later! You’ve only been there once, right?” He suggested as he shook your hands excitedly like a child.

As much as he wanted to hang out with his friends this Christmas, he didn’t want to miss out on some one-on-one time with you. He’s basically begging the universe for it so he wouldn’t trade it for the world or for an extra day of training. That can wait.

Megumi Fushiguro

I feel like Megumi isn’t even interested in joining Secret Santa. Poor boy was just forced by Gojo and Itadori lol. As he’s not interested in receiving any material gifts anyways, at most he’d probably just ask for a book.

He didn’t even give you any specific book he’d want you to buy so you had to ask Gojo “Oh, he’s not really into fantasy books, if that’s what you’re thinking,” He tells you as he leaned back onto the sofa “He’s leaning more towards nonfiction novels. Like the classics, you know?”

Heading straight towards the bookstore after training hours, you decided to go for “In Praise of Shadows” by Junichiro Tanizaki, simply because the title reminded you of his cursed technique. Though, the synopsis for the book isn’t too far off from his tastes.

Giving him only the book felt empty so you decided to look for mini figurines for his shikigamis at a nearby pottery shop. You wanted to give him something to symbolize his immense care for these animals, which was one of the things you loved the most about him. In the end, you had bought a total of 10 mini clay figurines. You placed it alongside the book inside a neat box with Japanese wrapping paper and a small bunny origami that resembles one of his shikigami on top to finish it off.

When it was time to give your gift to Megumi, he was quite impressed with the way it was wrapped but kept his reactions to a minimum “Ah, thanks.” He’d say, with a hand behind his neck

Only when he opens his present will you see the visible change in his expression. He pulls out the book and the mini figurines of the Divine Dogs, his gaze darting all over it in subtle fascination.

You purse your lips, tilting your head slightly “Do you like it?” You asked him, albeit a little nervously.

“Hey! Say something, won't you?” Nobara shouted, crossing her arms at the boy “Don't just sit there and stare!”

Megumi lifted his head off your bundle of gifts as he gazed back at your smiling face, a sudden feeling of happiness swelling in his chest but he kept it in.

“It’s…nice. I like it.” He spoke quietly, as if he’s only talking to you, blocking out all of the other sounds around him “You shouldn't have bought so much.”

He wanted to say more than that but his real feelings can't be summed up in a few words and he didn't want to come off so cheesy in front of his friends.

You laughed in response, waving off his words “No, no, I want to! You seem so indifferent with Christmas and I just wanted to give you something to smile about!” You lightly teased him, knowing you would have loved him either way.

At this point, Itadori and Nobara were forcing Megumi to smile for you as a joke, poking and prodding at his cheeks like they always do.

In the middle of the teasing session, you could definitely make out a small genuine smile from his otherwise stoic face, one that's easy to miss if you’re not looking closely enough. 

Later that evening, when you finally got home, you received an unexpected call from Gojo, saying “Hey, just called to tell you Megumi loved what you gave him.” He tells you “In fact, he’s arranging those figurines you bought him at his bedside table.”

Without a second thought, you could hear Gojo put his phone closer to Megumi’s room, as the faint sound of soft clashes of wood on wood fills your ears.

Gojo puts himself back on the call “Oh, and the book that you gave him? Yeah, he started reading it on the way home. Looks like you really got him this time.”

You couldn't help the smile slowly spreading across your face like a child “Really?” You say, trying not to let your voice give out what you're feeling “That’s…that’s great! Tell him to cherish it for me, Gojo-sensei!”

Unbeknownst to you, you were on speaker the whole time.

Kugisaki Nobara

Oh it was anxiety-inducing to think of what to give to Nobara. She’s a girl who knows her worth and knows exactly what she deserves. And while that was an aspect of her personality that you love and admire a lot, there’s only so much that you can do with your allowance.

Her wish list states that she wanted stylish clothing, accessories, or anything that looks good on her, given how much she loves shopping. Of course, she didn’t ask for Balenciaga or Onitsuka Tiger. She’s not that delusional.

But you can’t help as if every gift you’d think of wouldn’t be good enough for her. You only wanted to give her the best things because that’s when you’ll see her smile the brightest. And you’d probably do anything to see it on her all the time.

Over the weekend, you made a plan to go to Shibuya, going straight to the popular fashion mall, Shibuya 109. Entering one of the more affordable clothing chains in the establishment, you purchased a cute, oversized graphic tee for her. You also decided to buy her a box set of accessories like hairpins, bracelets, chains, and scrunchies.

Buying one last thing for her with the money that you have, you go to a local chocolatier and order a box of macaroons. Nobara has always been a fan of sweets, after all.

On Christmas Day, when it was your turn to give your gifts, you glanced towards Nobara who was sitting beside you before handing her a beautifully wrapped gift with a ribbon on top.

“Merry Christmas, Nobara. You’re gonna love this.” You’d sweetly say as she widened her eyes, delicately loosening the ribbon string.

As soon as her eyes landed on the top you bought for her, chic accessories, and the box of macaroons, she couldn't simply contain her excitement.

Her eyes were basically stars as she immediately tried on the shirt, twisting and turning to see how it looked “(Y/N), this is gorgeous!” She exclaimed 

Opening the box of accessories next, she quickly tried on the hairclips and wore the bracelets, hurriedly trying them on all at once “Where did you buy all this? It honestly looks so good.” She asked you, a wide smile plastered on her face

You scratched the back of your head and grinned “I…I honestly went to Shibuya this Saturday. I thought I might find you something different from the shops there.”

She immediately dropped everything she was holding and perked up in interest “And you didn't bring me with you? That would have been the best Christmas gift you could give me!” She says, her warm hands immediately wrapping around yours “Then maybe you shouldn't have spent all your money on me. I heard some stores there are so expensive.”

Your grip on her hand tightened into a gentle squeeze “You don't need to worry. I got my money's worth so it’s okay, really.” You reassured her.

You could see the tears forming on her eyes, only for her to wipe it off as she pouted “Well, at least let me share my macarons with you!” She tells you before picking one from the box and feeding you a strawberry cream-filled flavor macaron.

Nobara made a promise to be the one to take you to Shibuya next time and even go as far as to spoil you, even when you told her not to. 

How could she not? She’s so picky with everything but you’re the only one who seems to pinpoint her tastes so well. She’s never met anyone who could match her as good as you do so she’ll make sure to return the favor.

Happy holidays x

[theavianlady]

...tw? Tw.

TW: Gore, Blood, Injury, uh...Pain and Sadness-

@psychologicalwarclaire

Ha ha! Tis I! I was the anon!

(Cue dramatic exclamations of disbelief)

Ahem. Tis the anniversary of Spider's Web with Strings Attached, and I wanted to make something! Go and read the fic if you haven't already; it's incredible.

Lots of ramblings and other versions under the cut (if anyone wants to see any other parts with or without different lighting and stuff that I didn't include, just let me know; I'm happy to share).

===============================================================

This is the first (almost) completely original thing I've drawn digitally! Poses are really hard for me, so I'm super proud of this. No tracing, only references!

...so. Many. References.

Except for the bricks, which I'm not counting, because bricks are scary. And the chains. I used a brush. Chains are scary too.

I started July 28th, and then spent almost 40 hours across various canvases planning, experimenting, and actually working on this. Not including research. It took me absolutely forever, but I regret nothing.

Except for the fact that I spent over 6 hours just shading bricks. I didn't even draw them! I took a pattern for the grooves from google and filled it with black, (rotated and edited for some variance in their cells), and then did the red lighting and some shadows you can't even really see. For 6 hours.

I tried to draw their spider brooches many times, but I could not get them to look right (especially from a side angle), so I gave up. Let's all just pretend they're there until I come back later. Eventually. Maybe. Oh, and Leo's chains. At the time of posting, I really just want to get this up and posted, so they're not shaded, but again, I might do it later.

I wanted to have this set when they're both in their separate cells, right after Viper was, uh...in the cell with Leo. So, Donnie is all stitched up and healing, while Leo is...not doing great (not certain about the timeline, because I'm paranoid about everything, so it's probably fine). But, I wanted to convey what happened to Donnie, so I drew that weird glowing spine thing to indicate some kind of mystic healing something. I don't even know.

It didn't turn out as well as I wanted it too, but I'm probably biased. Because there was so much gore on Leo's side, Donnie's looked boring. I couldn't figure out how to do the lighting. The values could be better. It could do with more time spent on the shadows. Etc, etc. I'm a perfectionist.

===============================================================

Uh, in order of posting, behold!

1. Big version.

2. Big version without lighting (except on the bricks) or Japanese characters.

3. Close up of magic spine representation thing because I'm proud of it.

4. Close up of gore-covered-Leo because I'm also proud of that. I have never drawn such...messy gore before.

Fun fact, the group of layers all of that was on is called "Bad Stuff".

5. Close up of Donnie's shell stitches without the spine thing, because I worked hard on those. It was also pretty tricky, because I couldn't find any references for large stitched wounds. Only open ones. If anyone knows any good places for references like that, t'would be greatly appreciated.

Also, they don't usually stitch puncture wounds, because it could trap infection, but I feel like with something so large and deep as dragon teeth it would be necessary? So I tried to include those.

But also, would they just stitch the skin in such deep wounds? Is there still a gaping hole under the skin? Do they also stitch muscles with the dissolvable sutures or something? I'm like, going to go to med-school just so I can draw more accurate wounds and stitches and stuff.

6. Close up of Leo without the gore because he's pretty and I'm really proud of the plastron. And the right forearm armour piece. I couldn't get the other ones to look as nice, much to my dismay.

The Japanese characters write out to Omae wa hitoribocchi da, which translates to You are alone. I think. Google Translate says it's You are all alone, but translation services that I trust slightly more, like Reverso.net and ChatGPT (the most reliable of sources, I know) just say You are alone.

Omae is the equivalent of anata, for those familiar with Anata wa hitori janai. They both mean you, but omae is more...condescending, from what I can tell. Informal and rough, often used to express disdain or superiority.

Wa indicates that anata or omae are the subject of the sentence.

Hitori is present in both, meaning alone, though from what I can see, hitoribocchi is more...desolate and painful. It's a more emotional term for being alone.

Janai kind of means is not, or are not, while da is just like...closing the sentence. A firm, declarative ending particle.

I tried to paste the actual Japanese characters from different translation services (I am not fighting with using a keyboard from another language), but Tumblr wouldn't let me. Boo. So, you can all suffer with my English-Japanese. Also, don't trust anything I say. I'm learning Japanese on Duolingo, but I've only just started and it gets way more complicated. So, pretty much anything I just said could be wrong. I just did a lot of research.

If anyone does speak Japanese, and knows a better way to convey this, please tell me. I crave knowledge and accuracy.

I should get like, a personal human translator. No AI or program can truly understand a language like its people. Especially comparing Japanese and English. From what I've learned, there are a lot of words that could be translated many ways, depending on exact feel. It's complicated, and I'm scared to get farther into Duolingo's course.

===============================================================

I also just discovered yesterday that today is also the anniversary of the Rise Movie, so yay! Happy Anniversary to the movie that literally changed my life. And Curly, you're awesome. It's authors like you keeping this fandom alive, so thank you!

[abrcmswrld]

Talk to Strangers

Edward Nashton x Coworker! Reader

━━━━

Word Count: 4,951

Warnings: smut (18+ only MDNI), stalking, unprotected sex, angst and fluff and smut, a decent bit of tears, obligatory mentions of murder

Summary: You’ve warmed up to Edward despite his cold nature, but what happens when the puzzle pieces start to fall together and you can feel someone watching you in the darkness?

Authors Note: I actually tried so hard on this yall, I posted this to my ao3 page first so I am sorry if the formatting is all kinds of messed up on here :( This is my first fic i’ve posted since 2017 so I sincerely apologize if it’s meh, i also don’t have anyone else proofread my fics so i apologize for any errors i missed! enjoy!

Ao3 Link

He's arrogant. Oh so arrogant, and you can't fucking stand it. You watch him every morning as he strides in, past your desk at reception, white button up shirt, clear framed glasses, shaggy hair that falls over his forehead . He's certainly not a hit among the office, so maybe you're not wrong in your feelings. Though your other co-workers generally regard him as a pushover- not a self-absorbed asshole. He's good at what he does, sure. He's earned his spot, but he often brings a shadow into the rooms he walks into. A presence that you can only describe as infernal.

You don’t know much about his story. You generally pride yourself on getting to know the people you surround yourself with, but he has never let you get close enough to find out. Maybe that’s why you find him arrogant. He thinks he’s too good to speak to you for more than two sentences related to files he needs you to fax for him. What you do know about him is that he’s been at KTMJ for longer than you have been- maybe 5 years more. You can still remember the first time you met. You were fresh faced and eager. Seeking validation, in desperate need of some stability.

You extend your arm for a handshake. His hands are slightly clammy as he accepts your handshake. And though you had greeted him with your brightest smile (might as well go all in if you ever wanted to be anything other than a receptionist) he hadn't smiled back. He'd kept a rather straight face as he gave his brief introduction. "Edward."

Now you have a sense of stability. Sure, the quality of life in Gotham is subpar and you still haven't received that promotion, but you make enough to live comfortably in comparison to others in the city. You try to count your blessings.

━━━━

You had already been having a shitty day. Your landlord had informed you of an increase in rent rates by slipping an envelope under your door. Sure, it sucked to be asked to pay more for an apartment that could be deemed shitty by any normal person with a pair of eyes, but it was the lack of communication that got you. Not even the decency to call your residence and tell you with their own voice. Just a slip of paper under the door.

But you tried to bring a good attitude to the office. You hate being the one to damper the mood. You would rather leave that to him. Always him. Never smiling back at you as he walks through the door, never meeting your eyes to acknowledge your presence, nothing. And you were used to that. It would be okay, if it weren't for the stack of papers that laid on your desk when you got in. Neatly stacked with a green sticky note reading "Need copies. -Edward" scrawled in messy handwriting. You immediately feel the flames rise into your chest.

It's a quick stride from your desk to his cubicle, stack of papers tightly tucked into your fist. You slam them onto his desk as soon as you reach it, and he raises an eyebrow at you in response. "What the hell is this?" He glances at the papers and back at you. "The copier isn't working. I wrote what I needed." You sigh, annoyed at the fact that he doesn't understand.

"You couldn't have waited for me to get here and brought them to me yourself? I would really appreciate it if you would treat me like a human being every once in a while, ya know, actually acknowledge my existence." You realize how dramatic you must sound, but in all honesty you've been thinking it for years, it was only a matter of time before it came out. "I needed copies. I didn't think my acknowledgement meant that much to you." He holds his hands out in defense, feigning that he actually cared if he had hurt your feelings.

"I think you think you're smarter than everyone else here." You plant a hand on the table in front of him as you crouch to his level.

He sighs and you can see the corners of his mouth twitch. "I do. Is that so bad?"

"It makes you an asshole."

He finally faces you.

"Better to be an asshole than to be an idiot."

His voice doesn't carry any malice, yet the words feel like a slap in the face to you. It leaves you scrambling for a response, opening your mouth only to close it a second later. Until you decide to merely respond with a nervous chuckle. Sure, you thought his response showed his ego, but you had to admit. He got you. He faces you once more at the sound of your light chuckle, green eyes meeting yours completely. "I guess you're right."

You catch the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

"If it means that much to you, I will greet you next time."

━━━━

And he does. Greet you that is. You find yourself talking to him more and more. Sitting in the break room with him at lunch, looking over his shoulder at the crossword puzzle he works on at his desk and giving your best shot at an answer, relishing in the furrow of his brows as he turns to look over his shoulder at you. He's an asshole. He's arrogant. But there's something about him that's drawing you in. Sometimes you feel like a fish caught in a net. All those moments he'd brushed you off and yet you find yourself repeating the little quirks of his soft smiles in your head. You hate the term "work husband", but it seems that Edward is slowly becoming the very definition of that.

You don't speak outside of the office, but you find yourself gravitating towards him when you're stressed. You tell him about your landlord and the reason you had gotten so defensive with him. He understood.

"It's a cesspool here. None of these people actually care about people like us, not the landlords, not our coworkers, certainly not the politicians." He had said in that moment.

As October rolls around and the leaves begin to fall, you find yourself beginning to bring two coffees to work, one for you, one for him. He always shows an appreciative nod. But the moment you start to think about asking him to actually go out with you for coffee is like being the fish pulled out of the water and accepting it's inevitable fate. You were gonna let him drive you insane.

You're sure of it as you are caught up in the nerves and find yourself softly grabbing his hand to stop him outside the front doors of the office. You quickly pull your hand from his. no doubt blushed a deep red. But he just stares, waiting for you to speak. You clear your throat. "I- um- Sorry, I was just gonna see if you had plans now." And it pains you the way he doesn't speak, just continues to stare.

"There's a diner on the corner near here. I think they have decent pie."

He loosens the tension in his shoulders and looks down. "Oh. I'm actually sort of drowning in... paperwork right now." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. God, you hoped you hadn't made him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry."

You quickly shake your head and let out a breathy laugh. "Oh no! It's totally fine, I probably have paperwork to finish too." You hope it hides the pang you feel in your chest. "I'll see you tomorrow." You swiftly turn and walk away before he can respond.

━━━━

But you wouldn't see Edward tomorrow. Matter of fact you wouldn't see him for the next three days after Halloween. You try not to let it bother you.

It's the beginning of a cold November, he's probably just sick or desperately needed a vacation. Or perhaps you'd seriously fucked it all up and he couldn't even stand the sight of you. You can't stop the deep sigh that comes from you as you rest your forehead in the palm of your hand. Embarrassingly, you ask Zach if he's heard from Edward. Not that you expected him to be particularly helpful. "Are you guys, like, fucking?" You are stunned and stammering your words. "Wha- No! No. I just worry about him."

"Look, I wouldn't worry about him too much, I mean the guy's basically a fucking recluse. When do you ever see him outside of here? Maybe it's good that he's somewhere besides here."

Still, there's no chance of you actually focusing on work and you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news headlines, before one in particular catches your eye.

'Mayoral Incumbent Donald Mitchell, Jr. Murdered in his Home on Halloween Night.'

Holy shit.

━━━━

Edward is back at work after three long days, and despite your worry of his annoyance and anger, he is oddly elated.

It's the first time he approaches your desk. Leaning against it, coffee cup in hand, and flashing an awkward smile before asking, "So did I miss anything?" It leaves you a little taken aback, but it's a relief to see him approach you willingly after your last conversation.

"Um yeah, Zach was a total prick as usual- Oh! And our mayor was murdered."

He raises an eyebrow and takes a sip from the coffee cup. You feign annoyance, "No but seriously where were you? I started to wonder if that psychopath got you too."

He smiles. "Just sick. November weather and all."

━━━━

The first time you see the green mask you are in a huddle of coworkers around a computer screen.

'Police Commissioner, Pete Savage, Murdered. Killer Leaves Shocking Confession.'

"My God. What a sick freak." Zach interjects.

You can barely stand to watch. The video is hardly graphic aside from the disturbing voice of the masked man, but the implications of what happens when the video cuts off leaves your stomach turning. You walk away. Desperate for some space, but also desperate for a distraction. Edward sits straight in his office chair across the room. You hesitate slightly before striding toward his desk and leaning your weight against it. You can feel the sweat beading at your forehead as you lightly brush hair from your eyes. "Shit."

It's merely a whisper to yourself, but he turns his head to face you. For once his face shows concern towards you. Yet he still says nothing, only looks. Observant as always.

"Sorry. I needed to get out of that." You gesture towards the group of coworkers still huddled and murmuring among each other. He glanced back, before turning back towards his work. "The news?" He inquires quietly.

"Yeah. It's a little too much for me to stomach." There's a little pause as if he is hesitant to say anything before finally replying, "They were pricks. Don't you think they kind of deserved it?"

You straighten up, looking at him with shock. "I think they were still people with families." He frowns at you before you finally walk away from his desk to make your way to the restroom. You needed to get a grip.

━━━━

Edward apologizes for his insensitivity after work. You had stayed with him outside of the building long after all of your other coworkers had left. "It's fine." You refuse to look at him as he lights a cigarette and gets in a few quick puffs. You're being mean. But if you're honest the combination of his rejection and his comment earlier in the day had set you off. "And I'm sorry for last week." Only then you look up at him.

"I've had a lot going on, and it feels a little unfair to bring you into all of that."

"This feels like an excuse to let me down easy. It's okay if you just don't want to go on a date-"

The feeling of chapped lips on your own stops you mid sentence. He tastes of coffee and cigarettes and you crave more, but he pulls back quickly. His free hand remains at your cheek, holding your face in a gentle caress. "It's not an excuse. Things are just complicated for me right now." His eyes never leave your face. It's the best look you've gotten of them. Of him. His features are gentle behind shaggy hair and acetate glasses.

Something feels wrong and eerie in the back of your mind. Like seeing him this close gave you a sickening feeling of deja vu. Things were definitely complicated. The bags under his eyes were showing his exhaustion well, he had gone from elated to unwell since his return. He seems like a broken man, but he'd never let you close enough to find out why. You can't help but feel the connection, like he deserved a shot even if he didn't want it. Even if he thought he was smarter. Even if there's a side to him that could hurt you. You push down your feelings of uneasiness.

You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.

"When you're ready."

━━━━

You're awake nearly all night the next weekend. Spending the entire time digging through news about the figure known as The Riddler, his possible next targets, possible identities, and most importantly all of the video footage he'd put out in the last few weeks. It's certainly not healthy. You generally steer clear of these sorts of things. Years of therapy had gotten you far and you would rather not ruin it by desensitizing yourself. But you can't help it. You find yourself going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole until you find yourself tuning into his streams late at night.

He speaks with such a confidence in himself. As if he has all of the answers, and is just waiting to enlighten the world. His followers are even more terrifying. They'd do anything for him. You wonder how low a person must be in life to resort to this sort of behavior. But, you're not a psychiatrist. Who are you to speak on these people. These strangers.

"We are going to cleanse this cesspool of city."

You slam the laptop shut.

Sleeping isn't easy after this sort of activity. You should've known. You turn on a show you don't actually care about to give yourself some sense of security in background noise. And soon you find yourself drifting asleep. It's not great sleep. You can sense yourself tossing and turning, but you can deal with it. Everything is fuzzy until you find yourself on your back.

Paralyzed.

It's not uncommon for you to experience sleep paralysis, but you've experienced it less after your time in therapy. You try to keep your breathing steady, trying to convince yourself that whatever you see is merely a hallucination.

Shh. Shh. Just breathe.

But the figure that appears is familiar. That's what scares you the most. The green coat and mask is horrifying as it inches towards the bed, and you can't scream. you can't move away. You can only watch the blood drip from his gloved fingertips onto your floor as he stares. Tilting his head at you slightly, as he brings a hand up to his head. You can hear your heart pounding and you are practically internally begging yourself to wake up. The latches on his mask pop open and you're horrified to find that the face underneath is so familiar. A slight smirk on lips you have kissed before. Blood dripping from a hand that you've held before. You try to scream. Tears falling down your temples until he is suddenly gone and you shoot up in your bed.

You can't hold back the cry that escapes your throat. It wasn't real, he's gone, and you're safe in your room.

━━━━

Until suddenly the safety of your room begins to feel a lot less safe. You hear it. The creaking of the floorboards at night, the slight tapping against the glass of your bedroom window. The slight squeak of leather rubbing and rustling together. You're too scared to open your eyes those first few nights. You'd rather be blind and take your fate than die in paralyzing fear.

But you know it's him.

It was never unclear what was staring at you in the night. Maybe the nightmares of the leather gloves touching your skin hadn't been nightmares at all. You want so badly to be sickened. To run into your bathroom to empty your stomach out of panic and fear. Instead you feel a strange mixture of annoyance and arousal in your gut.

He thinks he's smarter than you.

You find yourself playing into his games.Attempting to one up him. To show him you aren't scared of him. That you can keep up. You begin to deliberately change in front of your window. Letting lacy fabric hit the cold floor and standing just a tad longer, stalling before covering yourself back up.

You hope he's watching when you peel off your work tights. You hope he's imagining himself on his knees tearing the delicate fabric from your form, only to be blocked by a thin pane of glass. You wanted the upper hand.

You hope he's watching as you sink two fingers into yourself, thinking about crisp, white button ups and clear framed glasses.

━━━━

The next few weeks are tense at work. You heard the news of what happened to Gil Colson at Don Mitchell's funeral. Edward would walk in everyday, and attempt to greet you, only this time it's you who is short. You have a little hope that he can't see straight through you. But you can see it in the way that he looks at you that you're an open book. Who's to say that he won't just watch, but actually kill you to keep you from talking. But deep down you both know your lips are shut tight.

So you work through the days, just ready to get home. You can hardly stand to look at him. It makes you feel like you're an accomplice. A sitting duck for a man who probably doesn't even care about you, withholding a tip to the police because deep down you really do like him. And you had hoped he liked you too until things got complicated. Now you think it would just be best if he abandoned you right where you were. But he doesn't. In fact, he suddenly has more courage than you'd ever seen from him. It's evident as he catches you by your arm and pulls you into the alleyway beside the office after work is over. It's dark and you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared, but he kisses you like nothing is wrong. Like he has no clue. Like nothing has changed.

You pull away from him, wide eyes staring back at him. "Are you okay?" He asks quietly as he brushes a hand up your arm. You can't help the break in your voice. "I know, Edward."

He just stands and stares. "What?" You take two steps back. "You're killing people." He continues to stare. He drops his hand from your arm. The silence scares you more than anything. But he simply sighs.

"I think you should go home and get some rest."

And before you can argue he walks away with a quickened pace.

━━━━

So you do. You return to your shitty apartment and try to compose yourself. What would he do now that you said that? Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you had accused him of something he genuinely didn't do. But it didn't feel wrong. You sigh as the hot water hits your back. You had hoped a shower would help you feel refreshed, but for the first time in a while, it feels like a chore. You can't enjoy it, so you rush through it. As you step into your bedroom you stop in your tracks. The window is slightly ajar, a cool draft flowing in tingles your bare legs. And then you see him. The figure in the darkness of your room. This time you're not dreaming.

He's in your room. You're paralyzed. The position you swore you'd never let yourself be put in. He's got the upper hand.

He just stands there. A part of you wishes he would attack you. Kill you. Anything just to break the still silence. You realize you're shaking. You agreed to play his game and now you're trailing his lead, allowing yourself to be beaten.

"Edward."

It comes out as a shaky whisper, but he visibly takes it in as he steps toward you to close the distance. You can see his eyes crinkle at the corners through the green mask. He's smiling. And he reaches a gloved hand to your face, cupping one cheek. You can feel the warmth radiating from his hand even through the glove. So, he is human. The Riddler has a beating heart and flowing blood. He is not a cold, lifeless monster. His stoic frame you had become so familiar with at work was gone. He catches a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

He is terrifying.

"No more through the window. I'll be gone soon."

Before you can entirely comprehend the statement and it's implications, your brain forms the word that leaves your mouth. "Gone?"

He simply smiles again, this time reaching his hands behind his head to abandon the mask he had come in with, and there he is. Cherubic features glowing under the street lamp light that flows in from your window. "I watched you live for a month. I watched you eat, sleep, undress, touch yourself. But you knew that right? Otherwise you wouldn't have put on such a show."

You attempt to struggle away from his grasp in disgust at his words but he holds you tight in front of him. "But that's alright. I'll tell you the truth because I hate liars. I liked knowing that you were doing it all for me. I wanted nothing more than to cleanse Gotham, to give them true salvation, but you put a dent into that plan. You became a distraction that I foolishly indulged." The soft light is hitting his features just right. He looks like an angel in devils' clothing. And his tight grip is right back to a gentle caress. His hand reaches the small of your back and you're sucking in a shrill breath.

His kiss is soft, inexperienced. Much like the other times you had kissed. But he is treating you like glass that might break. You think it might be the first time you've seen him relax enough to be seen as a particularly gentle being. He's ditched his looming, arrogant behavior you're so used to just to show you his utmost affection. It's the first time you have seen him like this since the first time you had kissed.

But some part of you is burning. He's not your prince charming. You know exactly what he is capable of, you've seen it. You're not glass. You're not a damsel. This is a man who has watched you undress for him through your window for weeks. This is a man who has killed. And it shouldn't bring heat into your core the way it does. Perhaps it's the thrill of the danger.

You kiss him so hard that your teeth clash. It stuns him as his hand lifts from your body momentarily before finding purchase at your hips. He's inexperienced, but the desperation coming from both of you is enough to cover it up.

The warmth and weight of his tongue in your mouth is intoxicating. The little sparks of guilt and shame that flash in your stomach are quickly subdued by his nimble fingers caressing under your nightgown and up your thighs to hook in the waistband of your panties. You can't help the pathetic moan that escaped your mouth as he slowly drags the fabric down your legs.

"I wanted to do it right. Wanted to take you to that diner, buy your food, take you home, and act like I hadn't thought about fucking you into your mattress every single night."

It's almost strange to see him on his knees. He has built himself up to be godlike. You were sure he wouldn't mind you on your knees in front of him. Absolutely worshipping him. The warmth of his tongue swiping over you has your thoughts lurching, and yes, god, he is divine.

"But it would be wrong to pretend to be someone I am not. I'm not a liar."

You can't help but tangle your fingers into his beautifully unkept hair and pull. He is ravishing you. Sinking two fingers into you until you feel the heavenly curl right into the spot that makes you whimper. "Eddie-" He swallows your moans in a desperate openmouthed kiss. His fingers are working you open, you can feel tightness build in your stomach. Like a rubber band ready to snap. But it's ripped away from you as he pulls his fingers out of you and swiftly pushes you to the bed. The sounds of his belt buckle coming undone has your heart racing faster than it already was, your stomach fluttering.

He buries himself inside of you with no hesitation, no time to adjust. It hurts and his inexperience is noticeable, but the look of bliss on his face and his slight whimpers has you ready to cum before you've even started.

You're gripping onto the back of the green leather parka, reminding yourself of who you're with. Who you're letting fuck you right now. But those green eyes bring you back to all those times he'd flash a slight smile your way in the office. He'd try to hide it but you're the only person he showed fondness towards in that hell hole of a workplace. Thinking back to the night he had kissed you has tears welling up in your eyes again. He notices.

He slows his pace momentarily, letting his short thrusts turn into long drags. A gloved hand wipes tears away once again and you meet his concerned gaze.

"Does this not make you happy?"

Your hands move to cradle his face. A move that he's certainly not used to as his thrust halt for a moment in surprise. "I am happy. But what comes after this? Am I supposed to ignore you and pretend I know nothing about you? That I feel nothing for you?" He stops his movements completely now. The room has fallen silent apart from the heavy breathing between you two.

"I have to mean nothing to you. Momentarily."

You knew the answer before you asked the question, but it hurts just as bad anyway. You don't take your eyes off his. The Riddler's facade is cracking before your eyes, you can see his eyes becoming glossy. It's almost like he's turned into a completely different person. He kisses you. Deeply, but not rough. There's so much pent up feeling behind it, you could sob even harder. But you don't and he keeps kissing you as he resumes his movements.

You're not using any protection, but you're too blissed out to care. You crave that feeling of warmth. "Eddie- I-"

His hips start to stutter as he cuts you off and buries his face in your neck. " I love you- please God- just say it back to me. Tell me you love me." You hold his face in your hands guiding his gaze to meet yours again. "Edward, I love you."

That's all it takes for him to fall apart. His whimpers and cries are like music to your ears and the feeling of warmth as he releases everything he has into you is blissful. You both have to take a second to recover, foreheads pressed together. But eventually he rolls off of you carefully and tucks himself back into his pants. The silence is deafening. You said it to push him over the edge, but was it true that you loved him? The idea of falling in love with Edward was easy in your mind, in a perfect world the idea of settling down somewhere else and waking up next to him felt good. But this wasn't a perfect world. Edward killed people, powerful people, and the chance that he'd get away without paying for it was slim.

"I'm gonna turn myself in in a couple of days."

"Okay."

"You should leave Gotham. It's not going to be safe for you here. If the cops ask you're visiting a friend in Bludhaven."

His hand grips yours as he looks at you.

"I promise if I ever get out, I'll find you."

━━━━

You do as he asked of you. Got a hotel in Bludhaven and in the next couple of nights you watched the television endlessly, waiting to see his face. The night you finally did, you cried yourself to sleep, gripping the hotel sheets as you buried your face into your pillow.

But you held yourself together and did as Edward asked.

When the man in the bat suit showed up at your hotel door a week after the flood you give your best answers.

"I'm visiting a friend, but the flood has kept me in town."

"No, I didn't know him well, we just worked together."

"I mean he was a little strange, but I never thought he would murder someone."

“I would never have expected it to be him.”

"I hope he gets the help he needs."

[melancholymetropolis]

PillowTalk

plot: A normal breakfast takes a steamy turn.

pairings: Aizawa Shota x Pregnant!Reader

genre(s): Marriage of Convenience AU; Shameless Smut

warnings: MUTUAL PINING. former boss/assistant. mansion in the middle of the woods. stay-at-home wife (kinda). CEO husband. ROLEPLAY. reader is a book nerd. chasing. lowkey beauty & the beast au. toxic ex. library sex. PIV SEX. rough. table top. mentions of voyeurism + masturbation. pet names (princess, little wife, beast, prince charming etc) light breeding. teasing. Aizawa is a simp for his wife. y/n is a dirty -talker. BOTH OF THEM ARE REALLY HORNY FOR EACH OTHER

w.c: 4.4k

Aizawa Shota lowered the newspaper from his view and lifted the coffee cup to his lips. He took a hefty gulp of the cool drink and I felt myself squirm in my seat. 

My kinda-husband was simply too hot for words and I was beginning to lose my mind. His dark hair was pulled into a messy bun at the back of his head, but a few (selective) strands framed his face. He decided to grow out his facial hair a bit, sporting a deviously dark five o’clock shadow. The white dress shirt framing his chest was seconds away from breaking at any sudden movements. The black suit he wore was tailored to his body perfectly— framing his butt and thighs gorgeously. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones or the lack of pleasure I had acquired in recent months— I wanted him. I wanted him badly. 

I wanted my fake husband to toss me to the table and devour me, just like how he did our breakfast.

I wanted him to mount me like the sexual beast I knew he was and pound me into the table.

I wanted him to ruin other—

“How are things?” He asked, snapping me out of my reverie. 

“Uh. . . what things?” I asked absentmindedly. 

His black eyes flicked onto my face, taking in my flushed expression. “Are you hot? Do you want me to turn down the thermostat?”

Oh, I am hot. Hot and ready for you to slurp me like—

“N-No,” I stammered, bringing my iced tea to my lips. I took a slow sip before setting the glass back on the table. “And everything is fine! The doctor said my blood pressure and cortisol levels were not as high as before and were leaning toward normal. She also told me to start drinking okra water and to work on my breathing, since I reaching the end of my trimester.”

Aizawa nodded. “Seems to be all good news. I am happy to hear it.”

“Well, there is only good news because of you and your support,” I said sheepishly. 

The statement was very true, if it weren’t for Aizawa I probably would’ve been dead by now. That was not an exaggeration whatsoever.

We didn't marry for love, nor was this union arranged. It was a simple matter of convenience. I was his secretary and he was the CEO of the company. I was already engaged to another man prior, but he left me mere weeks after I had fallen pregnant. My fiance cleared our joint account and fled the country. Leaving me with nothing. I was forced to consider going back to the united states and sleeping in my childhood bedroom with a newborn.

Aizawa, out of the blue, presented the possibility of a marriage between us. He would pay for everything. The medical bills, food, car payments, baby supplies— all I had to do was manage the house staff: sign off on repairs, oversee their daily tasks, and inform him of anything out of the ordinary. He was basically paying me to be a housewife, without the strenuous duties of cooking, cleaning, and tending to the kids. Plus, Aizawa suggested I get a night nanny so I could rest a little better.

The deal sounded a little too good to be true. But, given the two years we spent working together, I knew he was trustworthy. I took the leap and ended up living an absolute fairytale life for the past 5 months. I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Although, deep down, I wished we explored a little past our new normal.

Maybe even find ourselves entangled in the sheets and trying out all kinds of positions.

I’m pretty sure I can still get my leg over my head if I really tried. Giving him enough room to dig deep in me and rearrange my guts.

"You don't have to thank me every chance you get," a small smile stole his face. "In fact, I should be thanking you."

"Oh really?" 

The smile widened and the brunette adjusted his position in the chair. His arms crossed against his broad chest and the buttons strained from the action. The muscles in his forearms flexed underneath his rolled-up sleeves. His biceps bulged a little against the cotton fabric. The longer I looked at him the wetter I felt the seat of my panties become. If he kept being so absentmindedly attractive, I would soon find myself sprayed out on my bed, fingers probing my slick walls, wishing he were on top of me.

Damn, I have it bad.

“Y/N!” Aizawa said in a raised voice. 

I blinked several times and cleared my throat. “Y-Yes?”

“Are you sure you okay?” He asked, leaning forward. 

“Yeah! It’s just the. . . hormones!” I blustered. “You know, all those raging, sweaty hormones that make it hard for me to focus.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are sure it's only the hormones? And not some other factor?”

“Uh. . .” I stammered. 

Aizawa, suddenly, rose from his seat and walked around the round table. His eyes never left my face and a smirk was forming on his lips. He appeared next to me in an instant. He pressed one hand on the table and another on the back of my chair. Aizawa leaned forward until our faces were mere inches apart. 

“I heard you the other night,” he stated, a certain hunger in his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” I gulped.

“You cried out for me,” he said, plainly. “Begging me to. . . how did you say it? Oh! ‘Split you apart with my thick dick’.”

The realization hit me like a sledgehammer. It had been the night he had come back from a run around the block. He was shirtless and the shorts were low on his hips. His sculpted v-line was on full display, along with his sensual muscles. He was breathing so heavily, panting and mewling from the strenuous exercise. He claimed to have “overdid” it this time. He ran at full speed for the last few blocks and all the way up our long driveway. His long hair was, again, pulled into a messy bun, highlighting his sharp jaw and rugged features. 

He looked so hot. So fuckable. I wanted to mount him like the stallion he was and ride him into the sunset. 

". . . Oh," I murmured, turning away from him.

"'Oh' is right," he chuckled. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop but you were so loud and luscious that I couldn't help myself." Aizawa leaned forward, his lips brushing against my earlobe. "And saw you too. Your door was cracked open just for me to see."

Shivers ran down my spine and my womanhood throbbed. His hot breath was caressing my ear, whilst his mouth did the same. His body was so close, yet he wasn't laying a finger on me. The temptation was swiftly sending me over the edge. I hated the slow, seductive game he was playing. I knew the ending would not be in my favor. He wasn't the type of man to spread me open like a Thanksgiving feast, nor was he the type to treat me like an animal. He wanted me begging, weeping for his touch. Despite the rather x-rated thoughts running through my mind at the moment, I couldn’t allow myself to succumb to his game so easily. 

“Who knew you were such a little perv,” I giggled, lifting my mug to my lips. I took a small sip of the hot tea and hummed sweetly. “But, I guess, if I was holed up in my office for 40+ hours a week I’d be a little… frustrated as well.”

His fingertips brushed against my arms, tickling me the same way a feather would. “You are playing with fire, little wife.” Aizawa groaned and gripped the back of my chair. “Ever since that faithful night, I have not been able to think straight. Seeing your legs shake and your toes curl, while you work yourself with that sparkly pink toy—” He sucked in a breath and released the back of my chair. He pushed his body away from mine. 

Immediately, I rise to my feet and turn to face him. The brunette placed a significant distance between the both of us. His breath was labored and his hand was balled at his side. There was an oblong shape intensely prominent near the zipper of his slacks. The member was only semi-hard and I could already tell that was quite massive. Probably bigger that the sparkly pink dildo I had in my nightstand, certainly thicker that the toy as well. 

My assumption was right. 

He did have a long, thick dick.

“I like to think myself a patient man,” he started. “A respectable man. I tried my best to keep my distance from you and to give you all the space you need to grow. To heal from whatever happened before our union. I never wanted to force myself or my desires onto you. I never wanted you to think you owed me anything because we were simply married and living together." Aizawa’s brown eyes bore into mine, just as the morning light gracefully captured his face. It gave him an ethereal glow. Made him look even more beautiful that he already was. “I promised myself that I would not touch you or make any advances toward you until I have obtained your explicit consent. However, being near you, feeling your luxurious presence and capturing your delicious scent, while trying not to press my mouth against that gummy pussy is pure agony. ”

Aizawa was so eloquent with how he spoke, sounding like a pure gentleman. Up until that last bit. 

“So, from what you’re saying,” I said, tilting my head to the side a little bit. “The beloved prince charming I married 5 months ago is gone? And he was preplaced by a horny, insatiable beast?”

A smirk pulled at his lips. “That’s not exactly true, princess. Charming was always a beast, at least during the night. It took a very special lady to set him straight by morning.”

I hummed once more and pulled my braids into a messy bun. I hiked up my dress and gave him a smile. “Where is the closest soundproof room in the house?”

“A few doors down,” he replied. “It’s the library.”

I took off in a swift jog toward the room, turning my head back to say “You can’t catch me, you fearsome beast.”

His laughter was explosive. “Are we roleplaying, princess?” Aizawa shouted after me.

I was already halfway down the hall, the double doors of the library were swiftly approaching. “Only if you want to,” I shouted back. 

“You cannot hide from me, young damsel!” He boasted, as heavily footsteps came stomping my way. “I will capture you one way or another!”

I giggled at the sound of his “beastly” voice and proceeded to quicken my pace. “Please do not harm me, furocious beast. For I am innocent in this matter.”

I have no idea what possessed me to put on this whole act.  Maybe I was watching too much Bridgerton or reading entirely too much erotica, but the idea of being chased by a massive man, just to be savagely fucked in the library was exhilarating. The book nerd in me was jumping with joy.

I pushed through the library doors and sped over to the nearest flat surface. A wide table with several wooden chairs surrounding it. I shoved the chairs aside and hopped right on the table. Anticipation ran through my veins. The big, hulking man burst through the room with a loud grunt. The smile on his face was undeniable. My little charade had done its job perfectly: it had taken us out of earshot of the bustling maids in the house and eased the thick tension between us. Aizawa’s playful mood was igniting something within me. Something I didn’t recognize. It had been a while since I had seen him actually enjoy himself. His smile was so wide and genuine that I thought he was a different person.

Not the stressed-out, sleep-deprived spouse that I often avoided.

But the bubbly, fun husband that I always wanted.

His immediate acceptance and active participation in my game showed me that there was a chance. A chance for us to have a real, authentic marriage. A union where we love and cherish each other.  One where I didn't have to question whether or not he felt the same way.

“Sweet, delicate princess,” Aizawa groaned, inching close to me. “Please allow me the opportunity to voice my desires without prejudice or ridicule.”

I looked away from his face for a moment and tapped my chin. “Fine, you may.”

“I want you. In every way possible,” he confessed, closing the distance between us. “I have wanted you from the sheer moment you opened your heart to me. From the moment you started staying up a little late to have dinner with me, or when you made it a point to pack me lunch on a particularly long day. When you made Sunday nights my favorite time of the week and got me addicted to Outlander.”

“Since when were you into Outlander?” I asked in disbelief,

“Since you started screaming at the TV, cursing out Sir Jack Randal,” Aizawa chuckled. “I never heard you use so many curses in a single sentence.”

“I still can’t believe he did that to Jamie,” I grimaced.

Aizawa nodded in agreement but carried on with his statement. “You have been the object of my desires and the capturer of my heart for months now. I go to sleep dreaming of your big brown eyes and beautiful smile. I hear your sweet voice in my mind all day long and wish I could spend every moment with you.”

I reached out to grab his hands, which he gladly handed to me. I brought them to my thighs and allowed them to hike up my skirt. The beige fabric lifted from its place at my ankles and exposed the bronze skin underneath. Aizawa settled at the small space between my thighs and gently placed his hands at my sides. His brown eyes bore into mine. The older man looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. Like nothing else mattered but us at this exact moment. His gaze was so pure I could almost cry on the spot. 

I hooked my arms around his neck and started to lean closer to him. My eyes fluttered closed and my lips slightly parted. He captured my mouth moments later and his arms swiftly wrapped around my plum form. Aizawa moaned against my lips as if marveling at the sensation. His mouth danced across mine gracefully, following my lead and patiently waiting for the next step. 

My hands were in his hair and my thighs rested against his hips. I gently rolled my damn center over his semi-hard front. The lust was quickly growing the long he kissed me and soon I  wouldn't be able to contain it. The confession had provided me with all the information I needed— our feelings were mutual. He wanted to give this fake marriage some authenticity and turn it into a real one. I was beyond excited.

I tore my lips away from his searing embrace and whimpered as he dragged a tongue along the side of my neck. 

"Take me," I gasped, clawing at his back. "Right here. Right now."

The brunette lifted his head from my neck and immediately started fumbling with the buttons on my blouse. Seconds later, he exposed the lacy number underneath and growled at the sight. His skilled fingers undid the finicky clasp in the back, exposing the plump mounds to his eager eyes. 

"Your breasts are so full and round," Aizawa groaned.

His thumbs gently ran across the pebbled nipples and a hiss left my lips. 

The older male immediately paused his actions. "Did I hurt you,  princess?" 

A blush flickered on my cheeks as I sheepishly looked away. "No. . . They're just really sensitive."

"Well, I'll try to be more careful with them," he stated, lowering his body until his face was directly staring at the bosoms. 

His hot tongue tenderly flicked the right nipple several times before giving it a long seductive lick. Shivers ran down my spine as he kept giving sloppy kisses to the sensitive bud. The seat of my panties was drenched. My arousal practically glued them to my lower lips. My legs were vibrating with anticipation. The hot mouth moved over to the left nipple and I thought I ascended to heaven. Aizawa moaned as he sucked on the breast. He was enjoying the lewd act and it was intriguing to see. 

He released the bud and a long string of drool connected the two as he pulled away. He brought his lips to mine and gave me a mind-numbing kiss. His fingers dipped between my thighs as we made out. He pressed two fingers against the wet area and started to rub small circles right at the top of the slit. My poor clit was already throbbing from the foreplay and it seemed to pulse after that action. I moaned against his lips and pulled away. The area was so wet and sensitive that I knew it wouldn't take long to push me over the edge. Especially after he gave my nipples such delicate care. 

"What a cute face my little princess is making," he purred, pressing his forehead to mine. "Looks like she wants to cum."

I nodded, keeping direct eye contact with the seductive man. "I do, you beast. I want to cum all over your pretty cock and gorgeous face. Will you let me?"

The older man groaned and removed his hand from my panties. "Coming on my face is just gonna have to wait until our next rendezvous. I'm afraid if I don't slip into that dripping wet pussy I'm gonna burst. And we wouldn't want that, right?" 

"We sure wouldn't," I said absentmindedly rubbing my baby bump. 

Aizawa smirked before slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. He threw the cotton garment aside before fiddling with his belt. His eyes never left my face and that seemed to make his actions even hotter. He pulled his pants and boxers down in one swift motion; leaving the thick, long member to spring free. 

My eyes widened at the sight. He was certainly bigger than I imagined. Definitely bigger than my ex, who could barely last 5 minutes without busting. Aizawa was indeed a patient man, a kind man. That was the only reason I could gather for why God would bless him with such a beast. Maybe I too was God's favorite, since he allowed me to marry such a good man. 

Not only was he fine as hell, tall and rich— his dick was big. I had no doubt I had hit the lottery in the husband department. 

"Are you okay, princess?" He asked. "Would you like to take a breather?"

"I breathed enough," I shot back. "Come take these panties off and pound me with your long, thick dick." 

Aizawa chuckled and hooked his thumbs under my waistband. He pulled the cotton panties down my plump legs and tossed them to the side. He aligned the head of his cock with my womanhood and just before easing himself in, Aizawa paused and gave me a final look, as if to ask me ‘are you sure?” I nodded immediately and widened my thighs a little bit more. The thick member sunk right into me with little resistance, on account of how wet my womanhood was. Pregnancy amplified all my bodily functions to the hundredth degree, including how soiled my underwear became anytime I saw something that appealed to me. Or, anytime I saw my husband.

The brunette helped me lay flat on my back against the table and adjusted the position of my legs. He hooked my limbs over his forearms and continued to push into me. I gasped when every inch was nestled into my greedy pussy and my eyes fluttered closed. I placed one hand above my head, gripping the edge of the table and the other underneath my belly. I braced myself for impact. Aizawa started off slow, rolling his hips against my pelvis gently. I could feel every inch inside of me. The slow thrusts softly pushed against my sensitive spots, causing me to squirm and wiggle underneath him. 

"Can I move a little faster, princess?" He grunted, tilting his hips a little bit. 

"Please move faster, beast," I panted, digging my nails into the table. "I cannot take this teasing any longer." 

Aizawa took a firm hold of the table and chuckled quietly. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

 The older man’s hips gradually began moving faster against mine. At first, my little mewls remained relatively uninterrupted by the change. I pretended to be disinterested in the movements, rolling my eyes and telling him to move faster. To fuck me harder. Informing him that I was displeased by his treatment, Aizawa’s persistent behavior of treating me like a delicate flower was starting to frustrate me. I was a woman above anything else. This pregnancy had almost everyone in my everyday life view me as fragile. Something that could easily be broken with little force and it struck anger in my being. Since my body is sturdy enough to grow an entire human being, I was pretty sure it was strong enough to handle some power thrusts from a man.

“Come on, beast,” I teased, a smile kissing my teeth. “Don’t tell me this is all could do? Some half-hearted pumps and expected me to be satisfied? I thought you were more of a savage than this.”

Without a word, Aizawa started to snap his hips against mine harshly. A good portion of his force was colliding with my body and it made my heart sing. My breath was caught in my throat and my legs started to tremble. I rested my body on my elbows and looked into his dark eyes. He was already looking at my face. The smile on his lips was stirring something within me. Almost like he knew I wouldn’t last long or I couldn’t handle the power of his thrusts. There were two words lingering on his tongue that I was dying to hear him say. Something that would definitely send me over the edge.

The man towering over me tilted his hips once more and a squeal shot out of my mouth. My back fell right back onto the table and I raised both arms above my head to grip the edge. The plush head of the cock was hammering the underside of my cervix, a very sensitive area deep within my cunt. My body started to tremble in response and my breathing became hollow. Pressure started to build in my abdomen and a pool started to form. My walls started to pulse against his massive cock and I couldn’t string together a single thought. My body started to tingle and my mind started to blur. Drool spilled from my lips as my eyes started to roll back. 

The orgasm was slow, deep, and damning. My body twisted and contoured into various weird positions as I rode the hot wave. I said my husband’s name like a prayer, chanting it over and over again. I begged him not to stop, to keep going, to take me to heaven. And he did just that. Aizawa kept his hard, sharp pace. He continued to drill that girthy dick into my snatch like he became addicted to the feeling. My body completely succumbed to the pleasure, not wanting to do anything else but relish in it. It wasn’t long before another orgasm began to build and my legs started to tremble all over again. 

“Fuck!” I cried, arching my back against the table. 

“Come on, princess,” Aizawa cooed. “Give beasty another one. I know you have it in you.”

The older man’s hips started to sputter and twitch, indicating to me that he was next to reach his peak. But, like the respectable man he was, Aizawa continued his sickening pace. Eventually, my eyes gradually opened and I took in the scene before me. A hulking man with rippling muscles and a gorgeous face was looming over me. Drilling his cock in me at a record pace with a smile on his face. He held my legs nice and wide in a seductive ‘v’. He was watching my every expression, movement and taking in my sounds. Aizawa was fully invested in pleasuring my horny, pregnant self and I was grateful. I never wanted this moment to end. I wanted to feel the weight on his body forever. I never wanted to part from him. I needed to be with him as long as humanly possible.

The second orgasm was harder than the last. It tore through me like lightning and forced my toes to curl. My eyes were wide open for this one. I watched Aizawa lean forward and gather me desperately. He held me close and proceeded to rut into my creamy pussy. He pressed his hot mouth to mine while his hips trembled and spasmed. His head fell on my shoulder when the pleasure became too great and he couldn’t hold out any longer. Hot cum shot into my awaiting womb, gradually filling me to the brim. Aizawa’s slow and rhythmic thrusts made the feeling even more sensual. It was as if he was fucking the semen into me, hoping to make me pregnant all over again. 

I never thought I’d have a breeding kink, but his actions convinced me otherwise.

Soon, it was nothing but our labored breathing filling the library. Our bodies were still one and his chest was still pressed against mine. My fingers were slowly running through his hair while his arms were tightly wrapped around my back. It seemed like the older gentleman had no intention of letting me, even though we were both sweaty and panting. It made me feel special.

“Is this okay?” He asked, breaking the silence. “Me holding you like this?”

“It’s fine,” I replied with a sigh. 

“Okay. Just let me know if I am crushing you or the baby.” 

“Alright, Aizawa,” I giggled.

Suddenly, he lifted his head from my shoulder and pressed his forehead against mine. 

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me, princess,” he acknowledged. “I am your husband, not some stranger on the street.”

“Than what am I supposed to call you then?”

He thought for a moment. “I think Shota would be fitting.”

“Shota?”

“And Beast/Charming on special occasions,” he said with a wink.

----------

a/n: there are hints in the story letting you know what kind of fic I'll be posting next. let's see who can guess it before sunday.

Also, a little update, I will be posting FULL SMUT SCENES from this point forward. So get ready for 2k - 4k worth of filth. Good luck going to sleep at night.

Finally, let me know if you would like to be added to my official taglist. I will be alerting you everytime I upload!

bye for now!

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Snowleapord blake and the schnee siblings watch kali and ghira hit on willow till willow goes to there hotel room.

Willow: *Enjoying a nice meal with the Belladonnas*

Ghira: *Flirting with kindness*

Kali: *Flirting with promiscuity*

Blake: *Hiding in Bushes* Oh they Fuckin'

Winter: *Also hiding in Bushes* Please don't speak about our mother so crassly!

Weiss: *Also hiding in Bushes* Indeed, we just keeping an Eye on her. Even if your Parents are forgiving many other may not be.

Whitley: *Sitting at a nearby table, not hiding in the slightest* I think Mother deserves it.

Weiss: HUH?

Winter: What! Whitley!

Whitley: She was with father for your entire life Winter, much like myself. The heavens know I'd take a new dad the moment he presented himself a worthy candidate. The few folk I could imagine being worthy are your teammate's families Weiss.

Winter: That's incredibly-

Weiss: No no, he has a point.

Blake: My parent's will treat her right.

Winter: *Sigh* Fine.

Whitley: Ope. They're moving. Check please!

Blake: Alright! Let's follow them!

~The Quartet move through shadows (Except Whitley, who just walks normally) trailing their parents - to a hotel~

Winter: Alright, And now they break apart and mother- Mother's going in with them.

Blake: Like I said, they're fucking.

Weiss: I mean not necessarily. she could just be visiting-

Whitley: *On his scroll* It's a love hotel.

Winter: How do you-

Whitley: *Showing his scroll to her* It's a love hotel.

Winter: ...

Winter: *Clicks tongue* Well, I hope she's alright.

Blake: Oh she'll be alright~

Weiss: Okay, YOU REALIZE YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT YOUR PARENTS TOO?

Blake: Menagerie's a lot less uptight about sexual relations - we have the lowest "Messy" divorce and STD Transfer rates in all of Remnant. I don't think about what parents do, but I am cognizant of it.

Whitley: She's right.

Weiss: How do you know that-

Whitley: Looked it up. I decided to look over all public knowledge of the Belladonna family, and Menagerian cultures and beliefs. Mother just wanted me nearby in case something went wrong so I could support her. She'll be fine.

Winter: Why you? Me and Weiss are strong-

Whitley: Yes, you r both strong, while *I* have nothing but my charisma. You'd both make a scene, while I can calm them down - better than either of you, at least.

Winter: Well-

Weiss: No, no, he has a point.

Winter: *Disgruntled Huff*

~~~~~

Willow: They're still out there ...

Kali: Well, if they want to walk in on something~

Ghira: We'd be more than happy to teach them not to pry into 'Private' Matters~

Willow: O-oh! You've been serious?

Kali: Well, Yes. If that makes you uncomfortable, We understand but ...

Ghira: You are very stunning Willow. We don't need to do anything immediately if you don't want to, we don't need to do anything at all. Just know the offer is there.

Willow: *Blushing* W-Well it has been a while since I slept in a warm bed ...

Kali: *Grinning like that cat that caught the mouse, grabbing onto Willow's hips* Perfect~

Ghira: *Gently Pinning Willow to the wall* We'll be as gentle as you'd like

Willow: (OH SWEET MERCIFUL HEAVENS~)

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

"The Reason Was Always You"

AKA: The timeline of Metal Gear Solid as per Ocelot’s intervention. Even more specifically, this is my attempt at helping a friend understand what Ocelot was about, and all the nonsense he got up too and why. Of course, the why in this case is simple: Big Boss. Big Boss has been the singular motivation for absolutely everything Ocelot does in series since the day he met the man, and it remained so up until his death.

Yes, all of this.

So. How to explain? I've gone with a general "summary and timeline" compilation that I'll do my very best to keep concise. But given that this is me don't quote me on that eh? ;)

So let's get to it!

Below is a quick-notes version of people and agencies that’ll serve as a sort of fast guide for who I end up talking about that show up more than once in the summary. It’s very messy and if I’ve forgotten anyone or anything I’ll have it included later.

People and Agencies:

Ocelot himself (okay that’s not funny I just included it because it was to me for ten seconds shh)

Big Boss (obviously, ‘father’ of Solid and Liquid Snake)

Colonel Volgin (AKA the Man on Fire: Colonel commanding the GRU during the time of Operation Snake Eater)

EVA (AKA Tatyana, AKA Big Mama: Chinese Philosopher Agent who later became the surrogate mother for the twins)

Paramedic (AKA Dr Jane Clark, the main creator of Les Enfants Terribles, and later the Genome Project which is part of what turns Gray Fox into the Cyborg Ninja, as well as having a driving force behind the PMC’S in 2014, during the events of MGS4. The ‘perfect soldier gene’, more on that later)

SIGINT (AKA Donald Anderson)

The CIA Director

Major Zero (AKA David Oh: The Founder of FOX, The Patriots and Cipher)

Kazuhira Miller (MSF and Diamond Dogs Sub Commander)

Dr Strangelove (A scientist who specialises in AI, works with the CIA and the MSF, she creates the AI that powers the unmanned weapons Big Boss fights in MGS Peace Walker, and eventually the AI that powers the Boss in the mammal pod in the 1980s’. She marries Huey Emmerich and has their son, Hal Emmerich aka Otacon with him. Killed by Huey Emmerich sometime between 1983 and 1984)

Skull Face (Originally the XO of Major Zero, and the head of XOF)

Venom Snake (aka the Medic, later the commander of Diamond Dogs and Outer Heaven, killed in 1995 during Operation Intrude N313 by Solid Snake)

Solid Snake (Dave, a Foxhound Soldier who kills Venom Snake, and later assumes to have killed Big Boss in Zanzibarland in 1999. Meets Ocelot in 2005 during the Shadow Moses Incident)

Liquid Snake (Eli aka The White Mamba, meets Ocelot in 1984 when he's with Diamond Dogs as a captured child soldier, later works with him in 2005 under the 'new' Foxhound

Solidus Snake (aka George Sears, aka the third clone 'the perfect' clone of Big Boss aka the 44th President of the United States)Dr Dr. Naomi Hunter: (Part of the New Foxhound and the creator of Foxdie, a virus that attacks a certain gene to kill the infected person very quickly. Said Foxdie is implanted in Solid Snake as revenge against him for killing her brother, Gray Fox, during the Zanzibarland Incident)

Sergei Gurlukovich (Head of the Russian Mercenary Faction the Gurlukovich Mercenaries)

Olga Gurlukovich (Daughter of Sergei, takes over the Gurkulovich Mercenaries after his death)

Raiden (AKA Jack the Ripper: Former child soldier adopted by Solidus Snake, later a Foxhound agent unaware it's not real, per se)

Agencies (I couldn’t think of a better word for them but ‘agencies’ is a kind of loose term in this sense)

I have not included the CIA and the GRU but they are there.

The Patriots 1.0 (Not an official way of terming them, I’m just trying to distinguish between that and the later, AI only version of the Patriots)

Cipher (Another name for The Patriots when it was under the command of Major Zero)

XOF (Assumed to have been Cipher, they are a rogue faction of Cipher headed up by Skull Face, originally the XO of Zero, he breaks apart from him)

The Patriots 2.0 (After Major Zero becomes non-functional due to being infected with parasites by Skull Face, SIGINT takes over the Patriots before they slowly begin to fully convert to being an AI controlled system. By the 2000’s, the Patriots are little more than AI, and only AI)

MSF (AKA Militaries Sans Frontiers: The first PMC created and headed by Big Boss)

Diamond Dogs (A PMC created by Kazuhira Miller and Revolver Ocelot, later commanded by Venom Snake)

Outer Heaven (A PMC under Venom Snake that absorbed Diamond Dogs and became something 'bigger' or new. This is a touch confusing, as Venom Snake refers to Diamond Dogs base as 'Outer Heaven' and Solid Snake storms Outer Heaven in 1995 but it's moved inland by that point)

Foxhound (A special forces group headed by Big Boss within the US military)

Zanzibarland (A private military nation headed by Big Boss. Where he is 'killed' by Solid Snake)

The 'New' Foxhound: (Foxhound after it's been created for a second time, with Liquid Snake in charge)

Dead Cell: (A faction Ocelot works with designed to bring about the SSS Project, aka the Solid Snake Simulation project, more on that later)

Who's Ocelot? (Speedy Ass Biography)

Revolver Ocelot aka Adamska aka Adam aka Shalashaska and eventually Liquid Snake was born in Normandy, on D Day. 6th June 1944. He is the son of the Boss, and the Sorrow. Both part of the elite COBRA Unit.

Ocelot was removed from the Boss very shortly after his birth and raised by the Philosopher's as one of their agents. Up until being sent to infiltrate the GRU for the CIA sometime before 1964.

Then, Ocelot was established as a Major under the command of Colonel Volgin. His birth aside, there are almost no confirmed details of his life before this.

Ocelot dies in 2014, of the new Foxdie virus, after fighing Solid Snake. He's 70 years old at the time.

The world's fastest biography out of the way, let's get into the more nitty-gritty of it-the timeline.

RUSSIA: 1964

*One of the few times Ocelot wasn’t doing things for the sake of Big Boss, as they don’t meet until Operation Snake Eater. (That I'm aware of at any rate)

Key Events:

The Virtuous Mission ( Late August)

Operation Snake Eater ( Early September)

As quickly stated above, Ocelot is a Major within the GRU under Colonel Volgin but secretly working with the CIA. (In the post credits, Ocelot reports directly to the CIA director in the USA.) He was sent in to recover part of the Philosopher’s Legacy. He succeeds, and gives the USA blueprints that are assumed to be Metal Gear.

EARLY 1970’s:

NOTE: Portable Ops canon is in debate within the fandom. I personally take it as canon, but some don’t. So Ocelot’s actions in this time period get argued. The way Portable Ops often gets argued. Since I take Portable Ops as canon, I included it. I’m using Wiki Fandom’s summary of events here, so again-there is interpretation that could be up for debate.

This could also be another portion of events that are not directly for the sake of Big Boss. But when the Patriots are formed, Ocelot helps them use the Legacy in it’s funding. The Patriots operated (at least originally) to ‘execute the Boss’s will’ post-humus for her. And create what they believed to be her desired world.

Ocelot recovers the second half of the Philosopher’s Legacy, and assassinates the DCI.

Foundation of the Patriots with Major Zero, Big Boss, Eva, Paramedic and SIGINT.

1972:

This is what I believe is the turning point for where Ocelot begins to put almost all of his focus into making sure everything he does serves Big Boss and his efforts.

Solid and Liquid Snake are born as the first successful experiment from Les Enfants Terribles. Big Boss leaves the Patriots. Ocelot remains.

Big Boss founds the MSF, and eventually takes on Kazuhira Miller as his sub-commander. Ocelot is not directly involved with the MSF. During the days of the MSF, Kaz forms a secret deal with Major Zero, which is how Zadornov (a KGB spy under the alias of Professor Galvez) and Paz Ortega Andrade (A Cipher Agent posing as a Latin American school-girl) are able to get Big Boss into Costa Rica. This is also where Chico (a kid Big Boss meets who is the younger brother of Amanda, the new commander of her late father’s rebel unit) meets Big Boss and is taken into the MSF.

1975:

XOF attacks Mother Base when Big Boss is coming back from his mission to save a captured Chico and Paz. Paz jumps from the chopper and dies before XOF shoots it out of the sky, killing Chico and the pilot, MORPHO in the process. The Medic jumps in front of Big Boss to shield him from the worst of the blast, but Big Boss ends up in a coma for the next nine years. Kaz is left with only minor or non-life-threatening injuries.

"This is an emergency, otherwise I sure as hell wouldn't-"-Ocelot, when Major Zero contacts him after the attack. The betrayal of Big Boss has forever left a sour taste in his mouth, regarding Zero.

Sometime later, after Kaz has been released from the hospital, Major Zero gets in contact with Ocelot and fills him in on a plan he has to keep Big Boss safe from his enemies. First, he has Big Boss and the Medic transferred into Cipher’s care through Eva, at the military hospital in Dhkelia, Cyprus. He proposes to Ocelot the idea of turning the Medic into a body double for Big Boss. Ocelot agrees and this begins the creation of Venom Snake through (as Ocelot puts it ‘powerful hypnogia’) and intense plastic surgery. In addition, he also spends the next nine years creating Diamond Dogs with Kazuhira Miller. The intention being that while Kaz, himself and Venom work with Diamond Dogs, Big Boss is free to get himself back up and running with his own base and men safely, away from the radar of XOF. With Diamond Dogs and Venom at the helm, nobody will know Big Boss is alive and building his own army (what eventually becomes Foxhound and later Zanzibarland) and will be safe.

XOF ATTACK ON DHKELIA, 1984:

Sometime in late February, Big Boss awakes from his coma and is filled in on what Ocelot has been up too. Ocelot and he prepare for the upcoming attack on the hospital, and when the Medic (now officially Venom Snake) wakes up two weeks later, Big Boss ‘helps’ escort and protect him from the hospital. XOF annihilate the place searching for Big Boss. Leaving nearly (if not every) occupant killed in the line of fire. The assault on Dhkelia is deemed necessary by Ocelot, and serves as a way to get Big Boss and Venom Snake out and free, without XOF continuing chase.

After they escape, Venom is left briefly unconscious. Ocelot retrieves Big Boss, then Venom. He puts Venom on the Heiwa Maru for transport to Afghanistan to save Kaz (who has now been captured by the 40th Russian Army and needs to be saved by Venom) and says his goodbye’s to Big Boss before joining up with Venom. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Big Boss before Ocelot lights his cigar, 1984.

"We'll meet again."

At some point, Ocelot hypnotises himself, to keep up the ruse that Venom Snake is the ‘real’ Big Boss, so that he won’t blow his cover to soon.

After Venom rescues Kaz, the three of them work with Diamond Dogs and take down Skull Face. During this time, the vocal chord parasite is present, and Venom eliminates Skull Face, XOF and the virus. Around this time they also have Huey Emmerich (after having ‘saved’ him from Skull Face, who he’d been working under since the attack on Mother Base back in the 70’s)

"I maintainted limited contact, though in truth, we were just keeping tabs on each other." -Ocelot about his relationship with Major Zero, after LET and the dissolution of the Patriots. Keeping tabs on Zero was of course, useful for keeping Big Boss safe. Including from Zero.

I’ll also note real quick that it is around this time in the early 1980’s that Ocelot is dubbed ‘Shalashaska’ due to his torture techniques being so feared amongst guerilla’s he interrogated during the Soviet Afghan War. A monikers he’s given before Venom Snake is awake, and one that’s fully established by 1984.

TIMELINE UNKNOWN (Assumed to be sometime in the 80’s)

The details are unknown and undetermined, but at some point Ocelot reveals to Kaz that not only is Venom Snake a body double of Big Boss, but that Big Boss is alive and ‘safe’ doing his own thing to establish himself with Foxhound. Kaz, infuriated at being mislead and lied too, vows his revenge on Big Boss. Ocelot, simply says that eventually there will only be one Big Boss, and if Kaz wants to keep that vow, so be it. They’ll fight when the time comes (against each other, that is).

Venom Snake (at another undetermined time) learns the truth about himself. He remains in his role until his death.

At some point between 1984 and 1995, Kaz and Ocelot both exit Diamond Dogs/ Outer Heaven. The time period for when they do this, is unknown.

OPERATION INTRUDE N313, 1995:

Outer Heaven is no longer necessary, and is in possession of a Metal Gear. The time for there to be ‘only one Big Boss’ has come. Venom Snake fights Solid Snake, and is eventually defeated and killed by him. Venom Snake’s exploits are absorbed and attributed into the legend and legacy of Big Boss, leaving Venom to be forgotten. Having ‘done his job’ and outlived his usefulness.

THE 90’s:

Ocelot does some mercenary work around this time, after the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Ocelot does not directly work within Foxhound, or the later Zanizbarland with Big Boss, but supports him in other ways during this time period. He is keeping a close eye on the Patriots 2.0 and establishing what will become his eventual take down of them completely.

But why take down the Patriots?

At the risk of veering off into headcanon territory (which a lot of this post already does so I’m not even sure why that’s a concern as it isn’t) I believe Ocelot wanted to eliminate and dismantle the Patriot’s because they wronged Big Boss. The Patriot’s harmed him, and later served as a threat to him. In many respects they threatened the world too; but for Ocelot, I believe Big Boss matters to him far more than the world ever did.

Leading into,

ZANIZBARLAND DISTURBANCE (Christmas Eve, 1999)

It is assumed that Solid Snake managed to kill Big Boss. However, the Patriot’s swoop in and steal his remains, placing him in a coma before he can expire. Following this, Ocelot teams back up with EVA, and they form a plan to eventually steal Big Boss from the Patriot’s. A process that ends up taking decades. And during which ends up requiring Ocelot to eventually make new ‘alliances’ and later, even develop into Liquid Ocelot.

But, before all that, comes a slow, methodical take down. Starting with Ocelot joining the New Foxhound in 2000.

I like this summary of it the best.

26th February, 2005

Death of Kazuhira Miller.

Canon has never confirmed if Ocelot killed him but I headcanon that he did and I stick with that headcanon. Kaz’s glasses are given over to Liquid, to help him take on the impression of Kaz to fool Solid Snake with the ruse. Ocelot would be one of the most efficient people to achieve that, and they have that talk about it in the end of MGSV so ANYWAY. That is a bit of a ramble.

Shadow Moses Incident 2005

The elimination of the New Foxhound. All but Ocelot are killed via the Foxdie virus that is implanted in Solid Snake by Dr. Hunter. This also ends up killing Liquid Snake. Ocelot reveals (to the audience) in the ending, to have been working behind the scenes the entire time as well with the then-President George Sears. Solidus Snake.

The Arm, 2005

Ok.

So. Bare with me. The Cyborg Ninja (Gray Fox) takes off Ocelot’s right arm with his sword during their fight. Sometime after the Shadow Moses incident, Ocelot has the right arm of the then-deceased Liquid Snake surgically grafted onto himself. This arm, ahem. Takes on the soul or spirit of Liquid Snake, and it can possess Ocelot periodically. Creating the character of Liquid Ocelot that is first seen in 2007. Two years later. When Ocelot is working with the Gurkulovich Mercenaries to steal Metal Gear RAY, before Ocelot betrays them. The “Liquid Ocelot” persona is up for debate.

2007

Mentioned quickly up above, Ocelot steals Metal Gear RAY and the Tanker Incident.

2009

“Sergei was my best friend!” Ocelot to Olga during Big Shell in 2009, when she accuses him of betraying her father and killing him (which he did). Loyalty to no-one is important. Unless it’s Big Boss.

Big Shell and the Solid Snake Simulation. Ocelot believes that the Big Shell is an experiment by the Patriots to establish any old person as Solid Snake. In this case, the unwitting patsy being Raiden. Dead Cell being a replacement for Foxhound. However, the Patriots are now completely an AI and they claim that they mislead Ocelot, and that their real goal was something else entirely. A system to control all people in the world. It is also revealed during the events of Big Shell that the Patriots are in control of every single aspect of society. And that the presidents are little more than Patriot selected plants, that are meant to exert their will unto society. Solidus Snake is killed by Raiden. Post Big Shell: The Creation of Liquid Ocelot.

Following the events of the Big Shell, Ocelot and EVA (now operating under the alias of Big Mama) are covertly working to dismantle the Patriots. By this point, the Patriot’s are in full control of society. The control PMC’s and other militaries with nanomachines that are a step up from the Genome Soldiers, and are an even more ‘perfect’ establishment of the Perfect Soldier Project. This is a project that used DNA from Big Boss to create the best soldiers. As said before, the Patriot’s are also a fully AI system. It is assumed that around this time, Revolver Ocelot is ‘possessed’ completely by the spirit of Liquid Snake (via the arm). And that Ocelot as he was known up until that point no longer exists. (While I’ve also found it kind of fun to toy with this theory, especially because the Sorrow was a medium and I really like the idea of Ocelot being supernaturally inclined) for the sake of this, I need to go with the way Ocelot himself ends up describing what happened. Ocelot is an extremely skilled hypnotist. (At least in Metal Gear’s lore sense of hypnotism). We already know that he hypnotized himself back in the 80’s, and it was using a more advanced version of this technique that he put himself ‘away’ and took on the persona of Liquid Snake. Said persona included the creation of more PMC’s, to help fight in a society of near total war. By 2014, an aged Solid Snake and Otacon are working to bring down the Patriot’s as well, but they have different motives. Ocelot wants to recreate Outer Heaven (in a sense) for Big Boss and the world he would’ve wanted. Philanthropy is for the salvation of the world and society. While I do still believe that Ocelot had a personal beef with the original Patriot’s for betraying Big Boss, I imagine that both things can be true. Ocelot knows the Patriot’s AI has infected everything in their society. Liquid Ocelot is created as a way to fool and interrupt the system. By working within the system itself, Ocelot takes it down from the inside, deliberately going against the AI’s predictions and algorithm to annihilate it. Solid Snake and the new Foxdie killing him, helps to bring about that goal. In the process, EVA is killed by the New Foxdie. Liquid Ocelot and Solid Snake fight, culminating in the death of Liquid Ocelot (and Ocelot entirely) via the new Foxdie. Outer Heaven 2.0 does not come to pass, but the Patriots are destroyed thanks to Philanthrophy’s efforts (and a worm created by Sunny Emmerich, the adopted daughter of Otacon and Solid Snake). Around this time as well, Big Boss briefly comes back to life (using body parts from the deceased Solidus Snake, I think Eva and Ocelot helped with that one but don’t quote me) and kills Major Zero (who is barely alive and only functions with life support) and dies of the new Foxdie virus. Thus a lifetime of betrayal and deceit, or torture and more alliances than one can shake a stick at, comes to a close.

"She's in love with the legend." "What makes you so sure?" "I was the same way, once."- Ocelot and Kaz arguing during Quiet's interrogation. Only for all the lies Ocelot tels, he was never lying about that. Except he loved the man, not just the legend.

CONCLUSION

So, at the end of the day, if one looks to the question ‘what was Ocelot’s motivation’? The answer is simply “for Big Boss” the motivation is sometimes debated, thrown around, tossed up, etc. So, for the sake of my own personal argument I say it’s because he loved him.

Not the purest kind of love no. We’re talking the devotional (one could even argue obsessive) intense kind of love that has a lot of toxic or ‘dark’ to be blasé about it kind of love. The kind of love that drives a person to do countless immoral, sometimes world-ending things in the face of it. From the time Ocelot met Big Boss to the time he died, nearly everything was in service of him. It did not matter to Ocelot how long that took, or how much ended up destroyed because of it.

It did not matter that it had a body count in the thousands. It did not matter who became necessary collateral along the way. Or whether Big Boss could ever even appropriately acknowledge or reciprocate it. At the end of the day, at the end of it all. For Ocelot it was all for him.

Everything.

I probably didn't need this entire post to explain it but I am who I am and here we are.

[salchat]

I've been experimenting with graphite on canvas. Here is the resulting picture of the delectable Jensen, with my materials. I used the graphitone pencil first to sketch it out roughly, then smeared if with my finger dipped in water to make nice shadows. Then I used the graphite sketching pencil and the tinted graphite to get more detail and depth. Then I used the hard pastels for coloured highlights and skintone. Pastel doesn't mix that well with graphite, but oh well... Then I used the really dark graphite stick to make the background more dramatic and to emphasise some bits of his face. Then I used the little HB stick of graphite to get sharper lines around his profile and hair.

And here is the finished portrait, corrected for poor lighting and the way my phone washes everything out!

It was a lovely angle, but really tricky. I've kind of captured it. I like the drama. As usual, I should have analysed the structure more. But I just wanted to stick my fingers in the graphite and get messy. And there's nothing wrong with that.

Oh, and the final essential was my playlist of wall-to-wall Led Zeppelin.