#whenever she did make an appearance
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ladybugsimblr · 2 years ago
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You knew there were shenanigans...
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now i see the resemblance...
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nekoro-san · 2 months ago
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I’m starting to seeing lot of comparison obsessed gags for Yuri in recent chapters.
But here is what Yuri bought to Anya ( which clearly is Loid daughter and person he currently hated) without Yor wishes to.
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Yuri was bad mouthed yes, but he does care for Forgers deeply. He’s like Loid in beginning in the progress to open mind about having a new family due to all the lost of their parents.
Yuri was still too young and being headstrong to accept. But action does acts faster then speech. It was proven following in old chapters and it’s a small detail we can see that in him.
In bus jacking arc, Yuri was rushed to asking his boss when he heard about Anya situation was kidnapping right away although his group trying to hiding from him. He did used for Yor excuse to made it “ For the mission” just like Loid to motivate him but these 1st panel can show how worry he is. And he does care for the kids to the point breaking the rules, brush out orders from the group and almost risked his life.
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And here Yor was requesting Yuri to tutoring Anya and at 1st he was not motivated to do so but after Anya said she does want to get good grade for making Yor happy it’s moved him and trying to giving him a motivation to study.
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This is from the light novel but Yor was requesting to Yuri babysitting Anya and he did taking her to a career center to having fun with her.
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This is my favorite line from Yor to him the end of lightnovel,too.
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chidoroki · 12 days ago
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June 14th, 2025 - Chapter 181's 5th Anniversary
(celebrating with one Emma + one quote from almost every chapter)
#the promised neverland#tpn manga#tpn emma#emma#my edits#*kicks door open* surprise kiddos! bet ya thought you'd seen the last of me! but here i am tossing out long as hell tpn posts#like i never left babyyy~ well.. cant say ill ever leave but feels like it's been a hot minute since ive done anything grand for#this fandom. apologies. but what better way to show my love than making y'all scroll a whole bunch down memory lane yeah?#truly nothing out of the ordinary from me. anyways..got the idea after posting my recent edit with ryuu that uses the same one#panel/one quote per chapter format. things just had to be real small to fit the whole story. wasnt gonna let this site's dumb#30 image limit stop me either. (such a stupid change btw. thank god i did those old bday praise posts back when i did.)#originally debated on just choosing any quote & character for this but ultimately just decided on our best girl. yea she's#totally missing for a few chs but not many. while a handful she just appears in flashbacks or just doesnt say anything at all..#so have fun decoding the morse i added in for those if you wanna. they're all different. ex: ch179 says 'fuck' because..#you know :) it's me. & heartbreaking stuff was happening. most chs were easy picks like if i had a favorite or when she..#just didnt say much at all during some conversations & i really had no other choices.. but yup. i still love her. & this whole#fandom. i promise. got a bit emotional reading through the story again while doing this but the nostalgia hits super hard.#i hope everyone has been doing well! it warms my heart whenever i see new stuff. this series deserves much love. always.
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teenagefeeling · 6 months ago
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andrea valls is so good
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bagsbyler · 2 years ago
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i find it so funny when homophobes themselves try to push byler endgame (either in a negative or positive way)
like i was rewatching st4 with my (homophobic) sister and she literally told me that she’d rather have mike and will end up together bcs she feels bad for will 😭
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thestuffedalligator · 1 month ago
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The thing was a mound of flesh and mottled skin, as big as a barn and the shape of a pumpkin. Four tentacles as thick as trees hung limp at its sides; teeth ringed the gaping mouth at the top of its head like a crown.
A huge, sad whale eye the colour of wine stared at the knight. She could see her reflection in the jelly surface.
“We don’t know what it is,” she heard. “Some kind of monster that makes a perfect copy of whatever it eats. They think that was how the Dark Lord made his armies, feeding his minions to it so that it would make hundreds of copies of them. Do you recognize it?”
The knight opened her mouth. She hesitated. “Yeah,” she murmured, drawing out the word. “We found it in the Dark Lord’s tower, right?”
“That’s right. That’s where it ate you.”
The knight turned around and looked at her other reflection. This one appeared to be about ten years older, and had doffed her armor for a loose blue tunic and breeches.
She was holding a cup of tea. She had pressed another cup into the knight’s hand when she woke up here. It had been a shock finding herself suddenly out the obsidian dungeons of the Dark Lord’s tower and into this tall room of stone and straw. The warmth of it in her hands steadied her a bit.
“Everyone else in the party was worried, but then it started making copies of you,” the copy went on, staring up at the tentacled thing. “And all of the copies helped fight against the Dark Lord, and we won, and peace was restored across the land, but then nobody could figure out how to kill the damn thing or just to make it stop. Dozens of copies of us in a day, hundreds in a week, and then someone decided that the only thing we could do is just bring the thing here, seal it off and hope it starved to death.”
She sipped her tea. “Anyways, that was two-hundred years ago and it’s slowed down a bit. It can only make a new copy of us every few weeks now.”
The knight looked down into her tea. The copy had also draped a blanket over her shoulders.
“I have so many questions,” she said.
“I figured.”
“How can it be two-hundred years? I can still remember breaking into the tower. That feels like it was just minutes ago.”
“It was, basically. Your brain is a perfect copy of the original you’s brain at the exact moment she was eaten.”
“But the quest is just — done?”
“Yep. You missed some of the things that needed tying up afterward. There was a war, and a dragon, and some business about a ring.” She waved a hand. “It was before my time. Things are pretty settled now.”
“My parents?”
“Passed away about a hundred-and-fifty years ago. I’ve been told that they were very proud.”
The knight nodded. “Um. I don’t know if you know — we had an elf in our party—”
“I’m aware.”
“I — right. Obviously. Um. It’s just, after everything was done, I was going to ask her—”
“One of us did. She said yes. She outlived her. A couple of us have tried to reach out since then, but she wants to be left alone for a while.”
The knight considered this. “Uh — right,” she said eventually. Her fingers tightened around the tea cup. “Um. What do I do now?”
Her older copy shrugged. She had let her hair grow out again, the knight noticed. There were a few strands of grey against the black. “That’s up to you, I’m afraid,” she said. “A lot of us are finding work as soldiers and sellswords. We’ve done it for so long that most armies know we’re reliable and don’t tend to turn one of us away. Most of us are just sort of spreading out, wandering the world. Some of us keep in touch.”
The knight frowned. “What do you do?”
Her copy paused, tea cup half raised to her lips. “Sorry?”
“You said it only makes a new copy every few weeks now. So you just stay here and wait for a new one to show up?”
She lowered the cup. “Well,” she said. “I guess I just — I know what it can be like, waking up here in the dark, and it — it can be horrible trying to figure all of this out on your own.
“So I thought that what I’d do is just stay here with a pot of tea, and whenever I see myself again, I tell her that — that she’s not alone.”
“We aren’t?”
“Of course not. We’re all in this together, you know.”
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ame-to-ame · 10 months ago
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:|
#i am not gods strongest soldier#she'll talk to someone who will say stuff like you're useless to her and take it fine but. she won't even stand to be in the same room w me#what difference is it to be being in your room playing games with the same people all the time vs. like idk.#aren't you just transferring who you're dependent on. is the difference just the level of commitment. you feel like you can leave whenever#nothing's changed really somehow. you're still doing the same things you did while back then. just that you also avoid me.#and god i don't know. i tell myself I'll care less I'll get over it it is what it is and i try so hard to be busy and not think abt it#but i can't sleep w/o watching something these days or else it's on my mind and that's been shit for my sleep quality#it's the first thing that pops up in my mind when i wake up. i get distracted in class sometimes by it. it's not like i can control it#it's just like the more you try to not think abt sth the more it comes up type of deal.#and I'm trying so hard but i think this is legitimately. gonna make me spiral and I'm trying my best to have a grip and not go there#i have things I'm looking forward to and I'm supposed to b having fun but it's hard when. There's that looming in the back of your head.#ugh ok rational choice let's go. i don't try to talk to her: we don't talk. she doesn't try to talk to me. i suffer in silence.#maybe I'll get over it find something new that feels like a safehouse but that's a big if. and idk how long i can hold on for#i try to talk to her: maybe it could go well? but maybe she'll just get more avoidant#i don't really get it it's like she can respond and laugh to stuff i say when in a group setting but she gets so guarded when it's just me#like subconsciously you know I'm not a threat you can allow yourself to have fun around me.#but you're consciously putting a guard up around me and reinforcing the negative feelings when it's just me#god. i don't. but. at least it sounds like she's happy for now so. that's all i ask for. if she doesn't want to see me i don't show up#i want to see her but. i mean. There's really no compromise or middle ground here.#they say time heals everything but it's already been so long. i don't even know why I'm still attached. she's like a different person.#the person i loved appears every now and then just never in front of me and I'm trying my best but I've never been good with loss#how do you come to terms with something being dead and alive at the same time. how do you make up the mind to drive the nail in the casket.#i can't make myself put it into the dirt when i catch a glimpse of the person i once knew. that hasn't changed for anyone else. just me.#vent#delete later
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blank-potato · 2 months ago
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Something Special
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Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader
Summary:
This time, in a sudden pfft, it sprays something directly into both of your faces—a cloud of shimmering mist exploding into the air. It smells sweet... too sweet. Like overripe fruit or syrup, or cotton candy left in the sun. Almost sickly. Bob coughs, waving his hand in front of his face. “What was that?” “A defence mechanism, perhaps—” you begin, but your voice trails off as something shifts. The stem starts to grow, elongating right before your eyes, inch by inch. Then, like something out of a sci-fi movie, thin tendrils begin sprouting from the base, curling and stretching like green tentacles. “Okay, what kind of flower shop did you go to?” you ask, backing up a step. Bob’s eyes are locked on it in horror. “I don’t know! I swear it looked normal! The lady had an apron!” Or You’ve been the live-in doctor at Avengers Tower for a year, and Bob wants to get you something special to celebrate. Unbeknownst to him, that something special turns out to be a sex plant. 
Tags/Warnings: 18+ Explicit content, sex plant, sex pollen, p in v, cowgirl/reverse cowgirl, crazy thoughts from horny!reader, Bob's good intentions backfiring
WC: 6.9k
A/N: I saw Thunderbolts earlier this week, and I felt compelled to write something! My Marvel obsession is so back, and I’m so in love with Bob, and consuming so much Thunderbolts fanfiction, I think I’m genuinely going crazy.
Part 2
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Bob teeters on his heels as he looks around the flower shop. He was here to get a gift for you, but he had no idea what you would like. Then, while browsing the camellias, a woman appears, half scaring the life out of him, asking him what he’s looking for, and he tells her as best he knows how.
“I’m looking for something special for someone special.”
“Special, huh?” She replies with a mischievous smile, “I have just the flower for you.”
He watches as she disappears into the recesses of the shop and wonders if he’s making the right decision. 
You were important to him, but maybe flowers were too much; perhaps you would see right through it and see the feelings he was trying (and failing) to hide. The whole team could see it. Alexei kept giving him unsolicited —and mostly unhelpful— advice about it, while John and Ava never missed a chance to tease him whenever they caught him gawking at you. And Yelena and Bucky tried their best to nudge him forward in their own ways; Yelena with blunt encouragement, Bucky with quieter, knowing looks and the occasional grunt that somehow conveyed volumes.
But Bob remained resolute, content with just admiring you from afar.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
Ever since you were introduced to the team as their live-in doctor, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. You were a ray of sunshine. Exceptional at your job and had this strange but beautiful quality where you could make anyone feel at ease within seconds of meeting them. 
He felt it firsthand when he walked into the med bay in the Tower. You were sitting there, clipboard in hand, and welcomed him in with a warm smile, motioning for him to sit. He obeyed without a word, nerves already prickling beneath his skin.
“I’m just going to take some blood samples, okay?” you said gently.
His eyes darted around the room—white, sterile walls, the faint smell of antiseptic in the air. Tests didn’t often lead to good things in his experience, and he felt that this one would be no different. His posture stiffened, and his breath was shallow. But as if sensing his unease, you placed a hand on his arm, steady, reassuring.
“If you’re feeling uncomfortable, I’m right here. And if you want me to stop, you just go right ahead and tell me.”
Bob nodded slowly, looking into your eyes—your beautiful, beautiful eyes that somehow made the rest of the world fade to background noise.
“I just need you to take some deep breaths for me, can you do that?”
You looked at him with such gentle care, and for a moment, he felt like he’d known you longer than just a minute. It felt crazy how fast he was falling for you, but it was happening all the same.
“Yeah… I can do that,” he replied, voice low.
And he had never been the same.
From that moment on, he’d been falling for you—hard. Making lovey-dovey eyes at you over morning coffee in the communal kitchen, pretending not to watch you when you laughed at someone’s joke, finding excuses to linger a little longer in any room you were in. 
He toys with his watch, waiting for the florist to come back and flinches as he hears crashes and curses. He has half a mind to go and check on her when she suddenly pops out with a crooked smile and her hair askew, presenting the flower to him. 
“Trust me, your girlfriend is going to love this one. Rarest thing in here.”
“She’s…” He stops, watching as the worker flits around the shop, putting the finishing touches on the arrangement. What use was it explaining anyway? How could he put you into words?
It was a strange flower, one he didn’t recognise. Its petals folded into each other. It was unlike any flower he’d ever seen, almost alien. But it was also beautiful, rare and special. Just like you. He buys it in a heartbeat, but the anxiety that follows is sickening. As he goes back to the tower, he thinks about turning around, getting something safer—chocolates, maybe. A coffee voucher. Literally anything else.
‘Maybe it’s not good enough, or what if she hates it?’
He plays with the loose yarn on his sweater as he nervously looks down at the plant. 
‘What if she pretends to like it but actually hates it and, in turn, hates me?’
He overthinks all the way down the street, onto the subway, up the Avengers Tower elevator, until he eventually reaches the door to your office.
Then—three knocks. His heart sinks into his stomach the second his knuckles leave the wood.
The door swings open, with you on the other side of it, a smile blooming on your face as soon as you see him.
“Bob!” You say excitedly. 
You’re clearly happy to see him and hurriedly usher him inside. The rest of the Avengers had been on a mission for the past two days and counting, so it was just you and Bob. It had been quite nice to spend time with him one-on-one. You even had a movie night the night prior, which ended with Bob falling asleep on your shoulder.
“What do you have there?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, catching sight of something he's hiding behind his back.
He hesitates for a beat, then slowly brings it forward, revealing a single, delicate flower—its petals a rich, otherworldly shade of purple, like something from a dream. It’s almost enchanting. You stare at it in awe, momentarily speechless.
“It’s a gift,” he says, placing it on your desk, voice shy but steady. “To celebrate you being here for a year. I… we really appreciate you.”
Your eyes soften at his words. You can see he’s nervous, waiting for your reaction like it might determine the course of his entire week.
But all you feel is warmth. You thought it was so sweet of him to do this for you; it was so thoughtful, so Bob. You’d felt a connection with him from the moment you met, something quiet but persistent that never quite went away.
“Thank you,” you say, genuinely. “I love it. Truly.”
You’re probably smiling too much, but when it comes to Bob, you can’t help yourself. You snap out of your loving stare as something flickers in your peripheral vision.
“Is it supposed to glow?” you ask, your eyes narrowing slightly as the petals shimmer faintly, a soft pulse of light running through them like a heartbeat.
“I, uh… I don’t think so?” Bob replies, frowning.
He leans in, squinting at the flower. The glow pulses again. Cautiously, he pokes it with one finger.
The flower twitches.
“It moved,” he says, eyes wide with a mix of fascination and fear.
“What? No way.” You step closer, trying to get a better look, equal parts sceptical and intrigued.
But then it twitches again, its petals bristling at the touch, and both of you freeze.
“…Did you buy this from a normal flower shop?” you ask slowly, eyeing him.
“I thought I did!” Bob says, his voice pitching just a little higher than usual.
You poke it again.
This time, in a sudden pfft, it sprays something directly into both of your faces—a cloud of shimmering mist exploding into the air. It smells sweet... too sweet. Like overripe fruit or syrup, or cotton candy left in the sun. Almost sickly.
Bob coughs, waving his hand in front of his face. “What was that?”
“A defence mechanism, perhaps—” you begin, but your voice trails off as something shifts.
The stem starts to grow, elongating right before your eyes, inch by inch. Then, like something out of a sci-fi movie, thin tendrils begin sprouting from the base, curling and stretching like green tentacles.
“Okay, what kind of flower shop did you go to?” you ask, backing up a step.
Bob’s eyes are locked on it in horror. “I don’t know! I swear it looked normal! The lady had an apron!”
In hindsight, the florist did seem a bit sketchy. The shop was tucked away in a dark, back alley, its dim interior lit flickering by lamps that looked like they hadn’t been updated since the ’70s. The air was thick with a faint smoke that he had to try not to choke on, but in his defence, Bob had just assumed it was part of the shop’s "vintage" aesthetic. 
The flower twitches again, and one of the tendrils gently brushes your desk lamp, knocking it askew.
“We should probably contain that,” you say.
“Or burn it,” Bob offers weakly.
You don’t have enough time to deliberate before they’re coming straight for you. They coordinate a joint attack and grab hold of your shirt. It has a relentless grip on it and tears it apart without a care. In the back of your mind, you have to take a second to mourn one of your favourite work shirts.
The plant, however, is far from done with you. Before you can react, one of its slippery, vine-like tendrils reaches for your wrist, its texture cold and unnervingly smooth. It’s trying to pin you down, the tendril wrapping around your forearm like a slippery snake.
“Bob!” you yell, panic rising in your voice.
Bob springs into action without hesitation. He grabs your arm, pulling you back just in time. But in the chaos, both of you tumble backwards, your feet tangling in each other’s as you fall to the floor.
You land… on top of him.
For a moment, everything stops. Your breath catches, his heart races beneath you, and there’s a stillness, an accidental closeness that makes everything feel like it’s happening in slow motion.
“Well, that was eventful,” you comment, breathless, glancing back over your shoulder at the plant—still twitching, preparing for its next move. The tendrils are growing faster now, more aggressive, and it’s only a matter of time before it tries to grab you again.
“Watch out,” he warns, voice sharp, as he pushes you aside with surprising strength. The moment you’re clear, he rolls to his feet, eyes fixed on the plant.
It lashes out, one of its tendrils reaching for your throat, but Bob is faster, shoving you out of harm’s way just in time.
In the seconds it took you to escape from it, the plant had doubled in size, its tentacles now oozing with a thick, viscous substance. It seemed to pulse, almost alive with an aggressive energy, like it was anticipating its next strike.
The plant gives you no time to catch your breath. Before you can react, it swipes again, this time reaching for Bob’s jeans. With surprising strength, one of the tendrils successfully yanks him to the ground, dragging him closer to its growing mass. The little tendrils begin climbing up the inside of his trousers, slithering toward his legs like they have a mind of their own.
“Holy shit,” you exclaim, adrenaline flooding your veins as you rush to grab his hands, pulling with all your strength in a futile attempt to free him. Where are the Avengers when you need them?
Unfortunately, you have no super strength or any useful abilities. Bob’s still being dragged closer, inch by inch. 
But what you do have, is a pretty damn good throwing arm.
You glance around the room, your mind racing for anything you can use. Your eyes land on the lamp on your desk, your favourite one. Bob had always joked about how you wouldn’t let anyone touch it. Without a second thought, you sprint across the room, grab it in one smooth motion, and hurl it toward the plant’s centre of mass.
The lamp flies through the air, and you’re about ready to start celebrating, but just as it’s about to make contact with the plant, the tendrils shift, dodging the attack like it’s alive and aware of what’s coming.
“Crap,” you mutter. "It dodged."
This had to be one of the worst moments of your life. 
Bob tries to crawl away, his muscles screaming in protest as he drags himself across the floor. His mind is a chaotic mess, every thought running a mile a minute. This day wasn’t supposed to go like this. He was supposed to give you the gift and see that smile of yours light up your face, not get fondled by a plant monster.
The tendrils continue their relentless pursuit, now reaching the edge of his boxers, squirming and twisting, as if looking for any way to get inside. 
“Hold on, just a second!”
“Please hurry, it’s kind of ticklish,” He blurts out as he writhes on the ground, “And wet.”
They find their way inside his boxers, reaching his dick and starting to wrap their way around it, making him tremble. 
The tentacles continue to secrete that viscous liquid, slick and glistening as they slip up and around his cock, their movements still clumsy, but starting to adapt to what makes him react. Bob struggles beneath its weight, panic flashing in his eyes as the tendrils flick over his sensitive tip, starting to pulse around him.
You’re frozen for a moment, heart racing, watching him fight against the plant’s hold. The air is thick with desperation, and for a split second, you wonder if you’re going to be too late. But then your mind snaps back into focus. This can’t keep going. You need a plan and fast.
You scan the room, eyes darting from the plant to Bob and back again. The papers on your desk, the fire extinguisher near the door, the window—wait. Without wasting another second, you rush over to it, pulling it down with a swift motion. You have no idea if this’ll work, but Bob’s safety is the only thing that matters, and you’d do anything to ensure it.
“Hold on!” you shout, as you aim the nozzle at the base of the plant.
You pull the trigger.
It’s temporarily thwarted, and you breathe out a sigh of relief when you see it retreat from Bob’s jeans.
“Come on!” you shout, reaching for Bob and pulling him to his feet. The moment you’ve got a solid grip on him, you both scramble toward safety, adrenaline fuelling your movements.
You rush toward the front door, but just as you reach it, the plant’s vines stretch out, blocking your escape. The thick, twisted tendrils curl around the doorframe, trapping you in. 
You turn on your heels, panic setting in as you dash to the far side of the room. There’s only one other way out, the door that leads to the lab part of your office.
You reach the door, flinging it open just in time, and drag Bob inside with you. As you slam the door shut, you quickly lock it, the sound echoing. The room is dim, but you barely notice the light as you both stand there, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath. It’s all you can both hear before you finally break the silence.
“What the fuck?” 
He’s panicking. He’s panicking hard. 
He attempted to do something nice, something to show just how much you mean to him and the rest of the team but instead he got you attacked by a plant that wanted to fuck you. 
“I screwed this up. I’m so sorry. I... I—” He stammers, his voice trembling with regret. He tries to continue, but the words seem to catch in his throat. He’s frustrated, overwhelmed by the situation and the guilt of what just happened.
You immediately notice the signs. The way he's retreating into himself, shoulders hunched, eyes avoiding yours. The guilt and panic are all over his face, and for a moment, you realise how much this is affecting him. He must think you’re mad at him, but you’re not. Not in the slightest. You weren’t even sure if you could be mad at him; he was Bob. 
You take a step forward, placing yourself in his line of sight, standing in front of him. You don’t need to say anything else. You don’t need him to apologise again.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” your voice acting as his source of stability, even though you’re both still shaking from the chaos.
But before he can respond, there’s a loud bang against the door. A deep, guttural scraping noise as the plant’s tentacles push against it, trying to force their way inside. They both jump at the sounds, and he tries to curl in on himself, his hands gripping into his hair as he shuts everything out, nothing but his own voice echoing in his head. 
‘Of course, you’d mess this up.’
“Bob, look at me, please.”
‘She probably hates you now.’
He opens his eyes slowly, and you can see it—the fear. The gold in his eyes flickers, a silent reflection of his inner turmoil. He’s been holding it all together for so long, but now, one mistake has him spiralling, and it’s all spilling out in front of you.
He hates that you can see it. The cracks in his composure, the weight of the guilt sinking into his chest. The last thing he wanted was to fall apart in front of you, to let you see just how much he’s struggling with everything.
“I put you in danger,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze drops to the floor, shame and regret lacing his words.
You can’t let him carry this alone. You can’t let him drown in his own guilt when you know the truth: it wasn’t his fault. He only wanted to do something nice for you.
You step forward further into his space, cupping his face gently in your hands. His breath catches and you feel his warm skin under your palms, the tension in the air thick but not overwhelming.
“It’s okay,” you say softly, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “I’m alright, aren’t I?”
‘She doesn’t mean it.’
“I try to do one thing, and I just made things worse. I ruined everything—” 
“You didn’t ruin anything, okay? I loved the fact that you got me a gift, and we’re going to get out of this.”
You pull him close, and you both embrace each other tightly, the chaos outside fading away for a brief moment as you both seek comfort in the silence of the hug.
But suddenly, like a switch had been flipped, you become acutely aware of every touch, every shift of his body against yours. The warmth of his arms, the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, it all feels intensified. It’s like you’re hyper-aware of the sensation of him against you, and it’s overstimulating in a way you weren’t expecting.
You subconsciously nuzzle into his touch, breathing in his scent. He smells so good, you would even describe it as intoxicating. The feeling of him holding you, so close, feels delicious. The feeling of his fingers against your bare skin, mouth-watering.
You lean into him even more, a soft moan slipping out before you catch yourself. The sound barely escapes, but it’s enough to make you freeze. You jerk back from him, heart pounding in your chest.
From the look on his face, he didn’t hear it. Or if he did, he’s pretending not to, but you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, flooding your body. The flush spreads down your neck, over your skin, and you can’t stop it.
“We’ll…get through this,” Bob says, agreeing with your earlier words.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter out, still feeling the heat spreading throughout your body. 
Then, as if his panicked brain finally catches up to the situation, Bob’s eyes flick over your form, and his eyes widen just a little when he realises you’re topless, wearing nothing but your bra. His face flushed with embarrassment, and in an instant, he looks away, his cheeks turning a shade of red at the fact that he had just hugged you in this state. Like the gentleman he is, he immediately averts his gaze, trying to give you some privacy.
“Oh. I uh, you should take my sweater.”
“Oh, it’s okay, I–”
Both of you nervously bumble until Bob starts taking off his sweater. The entire thing plays in slow motion.  His hands, a little shaky, reach for the hem. The fabric bunches up in his fingers before he slowly pulls it over his head. 
Bit by bit, his chest and torso are revealed. You can’t help but notice the definition of his muscles and appreciate them greatly. Finally, he hands the sweater to you, his expression nervous but kind. “Here…” he says softly, not looking you directly in the eyes.
Damn it. 
He’s ripped. 
You didn’t know when you woke up this morning that you’d be treated to an impromptu striptease courtesy of Bob Reynolds. You can’t believe all of that was hiding under that knitted sweater. There’s a sudden wave of arousal so strong it almost knocks you clean off your feet. Your eyes wander his sculpted form, and it’s like every part of him was made to drive you crazy. You know you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself to look away. 
“So… how are we planning on taking back my office?” Your words come out breathy, your eyes are still very much fixed on his body, but he seems oblivious to the fact.
“Maybe we can…” He trails off, distracted by the way you were starting to sway, “Hey, are you alright?”
He had now started to become clued into the way you were staring him down like he was a full-course meal. And you’re just happy he couldn’t read your mind because you were thinking the most unhinged things, like how you wanted to lick the sweat off his abs.
“Holy fuck,” You mutter tiredly, shaking the thought away. You were a doctor, damn it, not a degenerate. Or at least not both at the same time. 
“Yeah, I’m just…” You start a sentence that you can’t finish as your body continues to heat up and your desire for him starts to hurt. You just want to be closer to him, and the overwhelming need to touch his abs comes back in full force. You try to focus on something else but just land on his arms and you wondered how’d they feel wrapped around your waist when he’d fuck you. 
“Fuck!” 
You start pacing around the room, trying to get rid of this madness that seemed to be overtaking you. And by pacing it was more of an awkward stumble as bit by bit your limbs turned to rubber and your brain to mush with horny thoughts of Bob. 
You stop moving and drop to the floor, hugging your knees and squeezing your eyes shut. Maybe if you cannot see the hot man, he cannot haunt you. You decide to take deep breaths because that always helps, and try to calm yourself down. You are, however, wearing Bob’s sweater, which smells like him and therefore smells like heaven. You moan, definitely loud enough for him to hear and bury your face in it. 
“Talk to me,” Bob says as he crouches down by your side, the comforting pats on your back feeling more like kisses on the neck. You just wanted to climb him like he’s a tree and live there forever. 
“Need to take this off.” 
You start kicking off your trousers as they start to stick to you, feeling more like sandpaper on your skin. Next, you peel off his sweater and hold it in your hands, resting it against your cheek, breathing it in every so often. 
“I can’t be near you right now.”
“Why?” He asks and if you had your head on straight, you’d state the obvious. Did he not see the fact that you were seconds away from grinding on him?
But you did have to think about what caused this, and there’s only one theory that makes sense. 
“I think the plant you got is a sex plant.”
Bob blinks at you.
“A what?” 
While falling down an internet rabbit hole, you had heard about plants like these with certain properties that lent themselves quite nicely to certain activities. These properties including sex pollen that seemed to only affect you and not him. At a later date, you’d love to run some tests to see why. Maybe it was something in the serum he was given that made him immune to certain things. But all logical thought was being dropkicked out the window right about now, replaced with the need to fuck yourself silly on his dick.
You explain to him the whole sex plant thing as best as you can without going feral. The need to have his hands all over your body was becoming near next to unbearable.
“Why do you know this?”
“God forbid a woman is informed,” You sigh as you fan yourself with the sleeve of his sweater, more of his scent wafting into your face, making you more hungry for him than ever.
“So, how do we fix this?” He asks, desperate to help you out.
“I can just wait it out,” you suggest, knowing full well you couldn’t “wait it out”.  Each second that passed was a second not spent bouncing on Bob’s cock which was a second wasted in your opinion. But this was Bob, your Bob, you didn’t want sex pollen induced horniness to reduce your friendship to rubble. You could see it now. Things would never be the same. No more book chat over morning coffee or late night milkshake runs and you’d be damned if you lost them. 
“You’re burning up.” He places his hand against your forehead, and you whimper at the contact, shocking you both.
“Tell me, what will fix this?” He repeats.
It’s clear that there’s no avoiding it, so you tell him. 
“...sex.”
There’s a heavy silence in the room, only accompanied by the background noise of the plant going on a rampage in your office. It was obvious, sex plant, therefore sex will alleviate the effects of said plant but saying it out loud didn't make it any easier. 
“But I won’t ask that of you. I won’t,” You say firmly. 
Did you want him? Yes, you wanted him bad. Ever since his floppy-haired, doe-eyed, cute self came in for his first check-up. But you didn’t want it under such dire circumstances, with a sex crazed plant trying to knock the door down. You wanted it to mean something. You wanted to know that he liked you as much as you like him.
You watch as Bob’s expression shifts, his eyes narrowing slightly as if coming to a decision. There’s something in his gaze, something vulnerable but strong at the same time, like he’s finally deciding to take a step forward.
“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” he says firmly. “I don’t want to see you in pain like this.”
You shake your head, the words he says sinking in, but the effects of the sex pollen make it hard to respond.
“I can’t have sex with you like this. It’s not fair on you,” you finally manage, your voice quiet, almost defeated.
Bob’s face softens, his eyes flickering with understanding and something deeper. He steps closer, his tone gentler but unwavering. “It’s worth it if it helps you. You’re hot and shivering. What kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer?”
The sincerity in his words hits you hard. You feel your throat tighten, fighting back the wave of emotion threatening to spill over. You’ve always known Bob cared about you, but hearing that he was willing to do this for you was something else. 
“Bob…” Your voice breaks slightly, but you push through it.
He stops himself then, looking away for a moment, his own vulnerability creeping to the surface. "I care about you. I…" He trails off, a deep breath escaping him as if he's preparing himself for what’s to come. “I like you.”
You're struggling to find the words as the one thing you’ve been wanting to hear is finally said.
“You like me?”
Bob looks down, his eyes shifting nervously, afraid that he might be ruining everything.
“I like you too,” You admit. “You have no idea how much.”
Not wanting the moment to pass you by, you cup his face and kiss him like you’ve never kissed anyone before. The kiss is desperate and needy, your hands gliding over his body with such urgency. All that pent-up need and tension came out in this one kiss. You cling onto each other like kissing is the last thing you’ll ever do. 
You pull back, looking at him, his cheeks slightly flushed, his breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask, your voice a mix of uncertainty and hope.
Instead of responding, he pulls you back in, his hands gentle but insistent, bringing you closer once more. Then, before you can say anything else, he lays you back down on the floor, his body hovering over yours.
“Does that answer your question?” he whispers, before leaning back in, his lips brushing against yours once more.
You smile into the kiss and wrap your legs around his waist from beneath him. 
You shiver as his hands travel up your back, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. It’s clumsy at first, fumbling with the hooks, the fabric catching between his fingers.
“Oh yeah, this one’s a nightmare to take off,” you comment, remembering the countless times you’d try to undo the clasps before giving up and just pulling it over your head instead. You chuckle lightly at the memory, tension easing for just a second.
“I think I almost got it,” he says, determination in his voice. Finally, after a few more attempts, he gets the clasp undone, tossing it aside with a small sigh of relief.
You feel a warmth spread through you, as look up at him.
“You’re perfect,” he says softly, his lips finding their way to your neck. The way he touches you, the way his hands move, everything feels electric, like every little action is charged with more meaning than you ever expected.
His hands wander down towards your panties next, rubbing at your core through them. He can feel that you’ve already soaked through them, your desperation no laughing matter. 
He knows that because you immediately trap his hand between your thighs and start lifting your hips to rub against it.
His eyes widen as he watches you roll your hips, so completely wrecked, and you’d barely even gotten started. This was a whole new side of you that he could get used to. 
“You need to let go of my hand for me to touch you,” Bob says, and you reluctantly do, only because you know he’s gonna give you something better.
He pulls off your panties and is met with the most beautiful sight. 
“You’re so wet,” he comments spreading open your dripping pussy and flicking at your clit.
He slowly inserts his fingers and smiles at how easily they slip in. “You can take two already,” he says and almost in awe as your walls clench around him. You’re mewling and twitching with every swipe of his fingers, your wetness spilling around them. His fingers are so thick and he stretches you out so good, you wonder how your own fingers ever felt like enough. 
“So good,” You whine out, and he feels encouraged to ever stop making you feel like this. 
He curls them inside of you, brushing against your sensitive spot over and over again, making you squeal. You start to squirm, but he holds you still, his thigh and spare hand keeping you spread open for him. 
He starts reassuring you with soothing circles on your thigh, “Right there?”
You blink away the haze and nod, “Yeah, keep going.”
He repeats his actions, his fingers threatening to bring you to an orgasm so fast that you’re almost embarrassed. 
“Need you so bad,” You whisper as you thrust back against his fingers, desperate to have more of him. You’d take his whole fist if he’d give it to you. 
“I need more than just your fingers.”
He looks up at you. This was a huge step, but one you were both ready to take.
“Condom?”
“I’m on birth control,” You say, and thankfully, you were. It’s not like you had a condom on you; they were in your purse, which was in the room with the raging tentacle monster.
He pulls off his jeans and boxers and he’s left exposed in front of you. He feels vulnerable, but he knows he can trust you.
“Ready?” You ask him and he replies with a breathy, “Yeah,” before laying a sweet kiss on your forehead. 
He lines himself up with your hole, which is actively trying to suck him in as he pushes into you slowly. The relief of feeling him inside of you is so good, the sound of his moans as he bottoms out inside of you is just as good. 
He starts thrusting into you deeply, as you grip his shoulders. It felt better than anything you’ve ever done with anyone else. It was partly the sex pollen, but more than anything, it was because it was him. You were finally with him after months upon months of pining. Finally able to feel his skin beneath your fingertips, to hear his moans vibrate against your skin, to lean his forehead against yours as he ruts into you. It was slow but passionate, as you finally confirmed how you both feel about each other. 
You feel like you were on another planet, but you wanted to experience every part of this man, so you whisper in his ear, “Wanna ride you.”
You’ve never seen him move so fast, in seconds you’re sitting up right, warming his cock as his lips attacking your neck.
You’re about to start moving when he stops you. 
“Just a second.”
You sit there, desperate to feel him moving inside you, but if he says to wait, then you’ll wait. He cups one of your boobs in his hands and his tongue flicking around your areola just enough to tease you.
“Bob…” You whine out, and he smiles up at you, and it’s one of his dopey smiles that makes your heart melt. Then as if you couldn’t feel any more sensitive, he starts sucking on your nipple, his eyes closed in pure focus and concentration. You fully scream, your legs quivering and walls fluttering around his cock. His tongue was working overtime, and you felt like you could come undone with just this. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” You cry out as you pull closer by his hair.
“You’re so dramatic,” He laughs before going back to his ministrations, determined to make you lose your mind. 
“Just like that,” You cry out as you wrap your arms around his neck. You shake and tremble so much that you just have to start riding him. Your hips seem to have a mind of their own.
Bob rests his head in the crook of your neck as you work his cock up and down between your folds.  “You feel so good.” His voice is shaky and needy as he’s unable to do anything but give in to the pleasure you’re giving him. His legs were shaking with how good it felt, and it was an ego boost to say one thing. 
“Wait a second,” he says before he holds your hips up and starts thrusting up into you from below, giving you everything he’s got. 
“Oh Bob…”
The feeling is so overwhelming that you start to cry, tears flowing down your cheeks, each one showing just how good he was giving it to you. But seeing your tears, he stops immediately, wiping them from your eyes. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”
His eyebrows are furrowed with a concern plastered on his face, worried that he had hurt you.
You shake your head profusely, “Keep going. I’m crying because it feels so good.”
“Yeah?”
With some renewed confidence, he continues thrusting into you, and it’s your turn to rest your head against his neck.
He whispers against your ear, “You feel so good.”
“Wanna turn around for me?”
“O-okay,” You stutter out, your mind half in the clouds as he spins you around and you land back on his dick, reverse cowgirl.
“Holy shit,” he says as he starts pounding into you again. You feel him so deep inside of you, you never want him to leave. 
You feel him gripping onto your ass so you imagine the view must be good. 
“Harder?”
“Yes, fuck please,” You reply immediately. The way he was thrusting up inside of you had you crying out for mercy, and if he wanted to go harder, you’d let him. He picks up the pace, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours is music to your ears. 
“So good, you’re such…” He stops for a moment, and you can hear him hesitate, but you suppose his internal thoughts won out as he finishes his sentence, “Such a good girl.”
And you’d be lying if those words, escaping his lips, in his voice, didn’t make you want to explode.
Then he slows down before pulling out of you, you’re about to whine and complain, but he intercepts that. 
“Can you hold onto me?” He asks, and you do it immediately, desperate to feel him on you again. You suddenly feel yourself being lifted into the air, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He effortlessly lifts you over and lays you down on an examination table.
He lines himself up with your hole again and thrusts right into it, not holding back one bit. Your body is shaking and trembling with each thrust, and you’re screaming his name with each one.
“So good, so good,” he repeats like a mantra, like he can’t think of anything else but you.
He lifts your hips, tilting your pelvis and hitting your G-spot dead on, and you almost choke on your spit.  You’re not even sure what comes out of your mouth; you just know it’s not of this world. You head lolls to the side as you drool for his cock to be fed deeper into you. 
“Right there, right there, right…”, You bluster out before being cut off by your own scream. 
You weren’t going to last much longer; in fact, you’re surprised you lasted this long. You just needed one final thing to put you over the edge. 
“B-bob. Put…put your hand here,” You say guiding his hand above your stomach and bite your lip as he presses down feeling his cock inside of you.
“I’m gonna—” You sob before you’re cumming harder than you ever have, calling out for Bob all the while. Bob holds onto your bucking hips as he watches you squirt on his cock. The orgasm that hits you is blinding, your toes curl, your fists tighten, and tears fall from your eyes. 
You are gone. 
You’re only brought back to your senses by Bob saying your name and soft kisses on your face. When he sees you’re responsive, he smiles and starts brushing your hair off your face. But then you realise, he’s stopped moving and you absolutely can’t have that. You can still feel him pulsing inside of you and you needed him to cum.
“Keep going,” you mumble.
“Hm?”
You sit up closer to you, your fingers gripping his back. 
“Keep going until you’re done with me.”
You needed this, you needed him. You wanted him to fuck you so hard that your pussy remembered him, you wanted him to fill you up so much that just the smell of him would bring you to your knees and that wasn’t just the sex pollen talking. 
“I think I can do this day,” Bob says and that he does. He fucks you against the wall, the window, on the floor, if he had control of his Sentry powers he probably would’ve fucked you in the air too. By the time you’re done, the sex pollen has been well and truly pounded out of your system. 
But your troubles aren’t over. 
The plant knocks down the door with an ominous thud. Menacingly slithering over to the two of you, now triple in size, each tentacle bigger that the last, and you’re ready to accept your fate. This is how you would go out. Fucked to death by a plant.
The plant starts prodding at you both a tiny bit before pulling back away from you, much to your surprise. Obviously sensing its job was done, it reverts back to its original form in a matter of seconds and sits innocently in its pot. 
You guess your troubles are over. 
“So…can I be your boyfriend?” He asks and you laugh, “What do you think?”
Bob’s face lights up with a grin, and he kisses your cheek, “I think there’s a mess waiting for us in your office.”
“Well, couples that clean together stay together.”
Snuggling into his embrace, you let out a sigh of contentment. Nothing could ruin this day, not when you’d finally made Bob your man.
But, in the distance, you hear the shuffling of footsteps as the team has arrived back from their mission. You hear a faint, “What the fuck?” seemingly from Walker seeing the havoc the plant made but you’re too content in Bob’s arms to care. You’re exactly where you want to be.
Masterlist
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anthromimicry · 1 year ago
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“ i feel like i’m pulled back in time to when it happened.” @twcfaces :)
in response to the other's words, silence spread throughout the room almost instantaneously, but it was not the kind that was born out of awkwardness or of any sort of malice — it was a quiet sort of understanding that misao was regarding the other with now. it was undeniable that harvey and two-face, as they were ultimately two halves of one whole, had clearly been through something very traumatic as evidenced by the events that harvey (who was seemingly the host of their body from what she'd gathered from their conversation thus far, though she could be wrong) described to her. so it was important to treat the topic with the respect it deserved... and not to immediately jump to saying that he needed help, because that could be misinterpreted as ' there's something wrong with you, ' which was the exact opposite of what those who practice talk therapy should say to their patients.
misao instead wanted to show him compassion (or, at least, as much compassion as she could given her propensity for having to fake empathizing with her patients perhaps more often than she'd like to admit) and so all she did at first was nod to affirm the other that she was indeed listening. the gears in her mind right now were just turning was all, as she tried to find what the best thing to say to him would be in this moment. misao preoccupied herself with pushing the tissues on the table across from them closer to harvey just in case he might need them. and this gave her the time she needed to finally settle on what she should say, her expression remaining neutral besides the blink-and-you'll-miss-it frown that tugged at her lips, ❝ i see. well, thank you for trusting me enough to share such a personal and difficult story. ❞
misao took a moment in order to let everything he said to her set in more and continued, leaning forward to show him yet another sign that she was in fact very attuned to what he was saying, ❝ i am so sorry that you were hurt, harvey. or would you prefer for me to refer to you through plural terms? it seems as if the therapists before me that have treated you have made you aware that you have disassociative identity disorder... but i know that every system's preferences tend to vary whenever it comes to pronouns. so, i thought i should ask. but we do not have to talk about two-face at all during this session if you don't want to or unless he wishes to join us. i am correct with my assumption that i am speaking to harvey, yes? ❞ making a trust her and forming a safe environment for them in her office was absolutely vital to helping them heal. and whenever it came to people with a disassociative disorder, misao felt it was especially important to establish a baseline with them about their system.
she only had what other psychiatrists had said about the two of them to depend upon currently in her notes, after all, and things could always change / be inaccurate. misao cleared her throat as she rolled her pencil in between her hands, ❝ now, please correct me if i am using the wrong terms here, but if you are comfortable with answering... i'd like to ask you whether this is the first time you've experienced such a thing. i mean, having this feeling that you are being brought back in time to when it happened. because i believe that if you have been experiencing these flashbacks to the past in a reoccurring fashion, that there may definitely be more to it than what meets the eye. ❞ misao grabbed something from beneath the table in front of her and it was soon revealed to be a notebook with a pen.
she carefully slid it over to him, wordlessly at first, ❝ i don't know if you are fond of doodling while talking, but i always keep a set of these in my office for those who are. so feel free. and i realize that it can be intimidating to speak about these things to someone, but i promise you that my goal here is to just help you to the best of my ability. ❞ misao offered him a small smile before settling back in her chair.
he, or they, might desire to have some space to process everything. and she was more than willing to give it to them.
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just-a-joey · 12 days ago
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Some past 1x headcanons (theories if we’re stretching it) aaaand u can have some art to go along with it :)
1: At first 1x was made out of boredom. Telamon wanted to make a little assistant of his own, but ended up making a child. Sure the child was atleast already 7-8 and would never cry or want for anything but it was a child nonetheless. Telamon had to feed it, house it, water it and the such, which was borrrring. Taking responsibility sucked.
2. 1x was made as a blank slate, hence they’re basic appearance. Didn’t really have a personality of their own for a while and was just there to run errands (see figure 1) for Telamon. Most people in the Roblox HQ knew him as the little guy that unfortunately has to put up with Telamon’s shit.
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3: 1x was basically self sufficient. Sure He lived with Telamon but he made himself meals from anything left in Telamon’s fridge, got himself/ helped Telamon get ready in the morning. Brighteyes would give them Robux to go get themselves treats from time to time (see figure 2). She thought he was a good kid.
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4: It wasn’t entirely child labour. Telamon gave him breaks but what was there to do? 1x had no friends unless you counted the adults he worked with. No kids his age to play with he knew, no school, no nothing.
5: This is more into theory territory I think? 1x isn’t just literally Telamon’s/shedletsky’s hatred, but a representative for something he hated, being mature and responsible. Telamon prided himself on being the admin who did whatever, whenever. An unpredictable force of nature. But having to take care of something? It felt like shackles to him. So maybe he left it in the Banlands so he’d never have to think of it again. Might change this later though, seems a bit cruel.
(Got the last headcanon theory with the help of my friend @clo-v3r0929 <3)
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Not sure yet what I headcanon happened to him to become hatred and stuff, and I don’t wanna go all out cause I hate being wrong. /silly
So here (figure 3) are so,e lazy doodles I did.
Thank you for reading my yap session.
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grotesquevi · 1 month ago
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18+ mdni, collage au, use of marijuana, high sex, blink and you'll miss perv!vi, you smoke while she eats you (feral), spit, stoner!vi that got out of hand. fic directory, requests?
if you recognize this it may be because it's from my previous account aka @vicorices who got deleted out of nowhere, i'm trying to get all my work back up again cause i'm not losing three months of writing. bare with me pls love me back this was good soup back then.
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dealer!vi who’s deep down a damn loser when it comes to you, an unmeasured crush that started out when you bought weed for the first time and she got your number under the premise of talking to you whenever she had good stash.
she stares for a good while at her phone after, trying to find out a reason to talk to you without sounding lame, the last time she was so afraid to talk to a girl she was what? sixteen? so fucking lame.
dealer!vi who leaves in the middle of a party cause you texted asking is she was up and well, it's her fault when she's spoiling you rotten, constantly selling to you her very best stuff at a stupid low price: she wants you to keep coming to her, so she makes sure of making an undeniable offer.
she's knocking at your door and it's way to late to be in the streets, standing with her hands shoved inside her jacket as she waits for you to open up.
dealer!vi who's impressed actually by your rolling skills cause how the fuck did you learn how to roll a joint like that? you have such a good technique she finds herself looking at it, fingers in perfect control as they swiftly pour the green from your purple grinder into king-sized pink rolling papers — is it indirect kissing when you're licking the paper and she can visibly see strings of your saliva? must be.
she looks at you when you light up the joint and the air is quickly filled with the intense smell of weed, a subtle fruity and citric aroma as you passed her the joint. indirect kissing. indirect kissing when vi's smoking from the very same spot you did, sitting close to you after selling you a good amount of weed and accepting a sudden invitation to stay for a while and smoke, make the journey at least a bit more worth it and not leave after five minutes with you.
it doesn't have to be just pure business.
you're oblivious to it, but her gaze lingers in your legs and the subtle way your shirt rides up showing more and more skin without you noticing, worried you'll find out she's right there high and dry in your sofa.
stoner!vi who laughs at your jokes, leaning forward when talking to you cause even high she just thinks about how beautiful you are, eyes red, half lidded, relaxed in the comfortable of your small apartment close to the uni.
and like a good stoner she forgets about she's holding the joint at some point, too busy with the conversation, your company and the atmosphere you’ve so easily created, the ashes falling to the ground now. she has sold you marijuana for months, yet she's not able to talk to you for more than explaining you what strain she's carrying to sell until well — now.
liking your photos, flirting but not at all, it's absurd the amounts of times you appear on her mind without even trying to, messy haircut, she's sure you have a tattoo hidden under the winter clothes cause she can be a proud stoner, but she pays attention, at least when she wants something, when it comes to you.
"are you ever going to make a move on me, vi? cause i'm getting tired of waiting for you to snap out of it."
and maybe it's the weed, that dizzy and nice sensation on her chest that makes her smile, cause she's sure you're pulling her closer even when she's the one moving on her own.
"a move, you want me to make a move on you?"
you're taking the joint from her fingers and she swears it's the hottest thing she's ever experienced, the way you were suddenly so close to her only to pull away after, letting the smoke linger in the air when you light it again: she has felt that very same thing before, the awful need of pulling you into a kiss.
"i thought it was obvious when i texted you in the middle of the night, but you don't seem to get it much" the music seems to drown her unsteady breathing, the loud guitars by the speaker in the table while your bratty attitude only seems to turn her on even further. "should i spell it out for you? send a formal invitation?"
stoner!vi who's really bad in controlling her force when high, cause her hand fist in the fabric of your shirt and she's finally erasing the distance she was once polite to keep, moving you without much effort across the cushions to pull you closer to her, make you lay on the sofa to pin you down beneath her.
her muscles flex on top on you and she's finally aware of the effect she has on you, when she's finally kissing you and you're responding to her even when she barely touches you — so maybe it's not as lame as she thought, cause her kisses travels down your throat, messy, sloppy open-mouthed kisses she places as she holds you there, still and where she wants you to, not lame at all when you cannot control yourself either, squirming, already asking for more.
and fuck it's good. she can smell the subtle smell of weed in your clothes, and swear could choke 'cause you're parting your legs for her, a silent invitation she just gets with no need to spell it out for her now.
"gonna smoke it all by yourself?" vi's messing with you at first, watching you take the joint you forgot in your fingers to place it over your lips — "or are you gonna share that with me?"
stoner!vi who fantasizes with the thought of spitting right over your parted lips when she's helping you smoke, lighting up the joint as she sits on top of you. she's slower, but her hips press down against yours just right, and trapped in between her thighs is a damn sight. her blushed cheeks match her cherry hair who's much longer now since the first time you meet her, and you, a demon as always, let your hand find the skin beneath her shirt, the pad of your fingers roaming against her hip bone, trailing it down her pants.
with two fingers, she places the joint over your lips. your breathing collides against her hand, and she can feel the softness in your lips for a moment before you're blowing the smoke in her direction, slightly and for nothing more than five seconds but enough to make her think about kissing you again, yearning when she's stealing kiss after kiss, taking away the joint to have you pay attention to her instead. needy.
the weed makes her like that she'd say, but in reality vi's going to pieces even before her eyes become glassy. shambles when the music on the speaker is not enough to muffle your gasps, the irregular sound of your breathing after she slowly begins to ask you for more — hungry even when she's full fed.
she's building you up, taking her time since she dreamed about this a lot, and she desperately wants it to make it last, savor it as long as she can have it, so vi's dragging your shirt upwards, enough so she can see the obvious lack of a bra, latching on the skin of your breast until it's bruised and sensitive, purple because of her.
you do have a hidden tattoo, only for her to see.
yet it's her name on your swollen lips what she enjoys the most, how she's there in your lungs inside you, the sound of your moans when you ask if she could keep going. your always perfect hair lays now messy, and god she just want to imprint the sight of you in her brain, how your skin shiver when she's kissing the expanses of your belly, that flirty look on your face she can see even when she's completely on her knees for you already.
"you forgot about the joint again, peach" vi mutters against your navel, her chin presses against your stomach and the mere contact makes your skin burn "you okay up there? 'cause last time i recall i was invited to smoke with you love, you're making me feel a little betrayed here."
stoner!vi who likes the fact you're smoking from her weed. may seem stupid but she damn prides on knowing you choose her every time even when uni is fucking plagued with providers all around: you praise about her quality, chanting about how good your high was, how she never disappoints.
the world seems to stop against your skin, the time dies between your thighs, the intense smell of your arousal clouds her with longing and her mouth waters at the compulsion to lean forward.
"it's not fair, making me feel so- fuck so-" the words die on her tongue, cause your panties are soaked through, clinging to your folds and she's already drunk on it, lost in the haze as she looks up to you, barely illuminated by the lights in the apartment, the ember of the joint lighting every once in a while.
"talk to me," your voice is rough as your hand reaches down to her hair, taking the long strands of the mullet between your fingers — "how do i make you feel, huh? tell me vi."
stoner!vi who's a chaotic eater. she whimpers at your praises as her tongue laps from over your slick underwear, drool escaping from the corners of her mouth as her nose rubs against your sensitive cunt and she doesn't really care if she stinks like pussy after, if you're gushing all over her cheeks as she's making your underwear to the side; she's surrendering entirely, spreading you with her fingers and sinking her face in your puffy, swollen lips already sticky with a sheen of arousal.
she cannot seem to have enough, one arm tangled around your leg as she's comfortable enough to gather a good amount of saliva on her mouth so she can let it fall against your already leaky pussy, scooping it with her fingers to use it as lube when her digits are forcing themselves against your entrance, opening you up for her as vi's mouth sucks greedy around your clit.
so you forgot about the joint laying between your fingers as you hold her face against your sex, moving your hips against her mouth until she's looking at you through half lidded eyes and you can see how her face seems to glisten thanks to you. vi seems to be hitting all the nice places when her fingers scissor inside you, rubbing on your walls as you become pliant in her touch, inviting as you seem to suck her in deeper.
stoner!vi who pays attention, cause she's fixated in your face when you fall apart, dissolving into pleasure, splintering in lust for a brief moment she prolongs as much as it's possible, slowly pumping her fingers inside your tight entrance to keep seeing that pretty face all constricted in need, babbling about how good she's eating you, how full you are when her fingers fuck you dumb like that.
stoner!vi who shoves her fingers in your mouth right after fucking you, using her thumb to trace them along the seam at first, coaxing you to open them for her, pushing down on your tongue as soon as she's granted permission.
it's her turn to smoke now.
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machveil · 6 months ago
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Roommate!König who always surprises you with how quiet he is. for as tall and broad as he is, he still manages to sneak up on you. “Ah, can I get a mug, Schatz?”, you both startle, you from his sudden appearance and König from you jumping. he’s always quick to apologize, worry waning when you start to laugh, “It’s okay, I should be used to it.”. he starts to clear his throat when he enters the same room you’re in and you haven’t immediately noticed him, he always feels a little bad when you jolt
Roommate!König who quietly follows you throughout the day sometimes, no new books or documentaries to take his attention off of you. he looks for excuses to help you, folding laundry with you or dusting while you vacuum. it always makes him feel good when he can help you, turning chores into little domestic moments. fools himself into thinking this is what a relationship feels like, eyes darting over to watch you as he works, palms a little sweaty
Roommate!König who knows how to sew. his mother is a seamstress, and ever the mama’s boy, he’d be by her side as she worked as a child. she taught him how to stitch and mend clothes, the basics on how to knit too. whenever you have a shirt or pair of pants that needs mending he offers to fix it, “Let me get my needle and thread.”. it doesn’t matter if it’s a sock or shirt hem, he’ll dutifully stitch it like new. when you turn away he stitches his initials somewhere on the inside of the piece, the initials of his government name, letting you unknowingly hold on to it
Roommate!König who knows how you dress, what colors and aesthetics you adore. when holidays or events come up he tries his hand at making something for you, be it a hoodie and sweatpants or something with more flair. again, his initials delicately stitched inside, giving his name to you subtly. he doesn’t expect you to notice, and even if you did he would make up an excuse, “A special stitch my mama taught me.”, but he feels his heart pound against his chest when you wear whatever he made. heartbeat drumming in his ears, a rhythm so loud he hopes you can’t hear it
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harrysfolklore · 9 months ago
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max verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation
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summary: max verstappen can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it
folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAXIEEE, it's been a minute since the last time i did a compilation blurb and this felt like the perfect occasion to bring them back, i hope you like this!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the best driver of his generation is known for his incredible driving skills and relentless pursuit of victory on the track.
However, behind the wheel, Max has another passion that rivals his love for racing: his girlfriend.
In every interview, press conference, and social media post, Max can't help but gush about her, seamlessly sharing stories of their life together into conversations about lap times and race strategies.
Fans quickly began doing compilation videos about all the times he mentioned his girlfriend publicly, and those gathered millions of views across social media platforms.
The most popular one was called "Max Verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation," and it began with a video of Max arriving to the paddock for media day, Red Bull's social media team filming him while he answered some rapid fire questions.
"Waffles or Pancakes? You know I used to love pancakes but I think I've had too many because my girlfriend is obsessed with making them," he said as he signed some stuff, "So I would go for Waffles at the moment, but if my girlfriend is watching this I'd say I take her pancakes every day."
The next clip was from a post qualifying interview, and of course, Max earned the pole position, the interviewer had asked him what was expecting for the race the following day.
"To win of course, that's what I'm here for," he said with so hesitation, "But I'm also looking forward to it because my girlfriend will be here, it's the first race she attends this season and I can't wait to see her in the crowd while I take on the podium."
The video moved to show Max with his teammate Sergio Perez, they were playing a game of Green Flag or Red Flag, they were asked about people who film themselves at the gym and Max immediately waved the red flag.
"I actually don't go to the gym anymore," Max added, "I get annoyed by everyone else so I just exercise at home."
"So no topless selfies, not even at home," the interviewer said.
"I don't need to impress anyone, I've got my girlfriend, so," Max shrugged.
The next clip was taken from Max's own Youtube channel, he was showing some of his preparation routine for a race, that included some neck training, checking statistics, quick meetings with his team and engineers among other things.
And of course, his girlfriend made an appearance, standing in a corner watching everything unfold. He approached her, race suit on and helmet in hand, kissed her lips gently as she caressed his arm.
"Be safe out there okay?" her voice could be faintly heard.
"Always schatje, I love you."
In the next segment, Max had just earned his second world championship and was doing a casual interview for a sports channel.
"Do you have your girlfriend now call you 'Two time world champion Max Verstappen' or just Max,"
"Definitely not the first one," Max laughed, "She'd never do that, she says she likes to keep me humble."
"Your girlfriend has a pet name for you?" the guy asked again.
"We call each other a bit different but I prefer not to say that on camera," Max laughed again, "I don't want the internet to make fun of me for being cheesy."
The next clip was from Max's streamings, he was too immersed in a game that he didn't hear his girlfriend come into the room, noticing her presence when she leaned into him.
Out of habit of keeping their privacy, he covered the camera but forgot to turn his mic off.
"Schatje I'm streaming," he said, unaware that everyone could hear him.
"Oh I'm sorry, I was going to ask if you could feed the cats but I'll do it myself," his girlfriend spoke.
"No I'll do it, just let me get off the stream,"
"Baby, there's no need," she insisted.
"I was missing you anyways, just give me a minute."
His audience couldn't see anything but they clearly heard how Max kissed his girlfriend's lips, turning his attention back to the screen, he realized that he was broadcasting their conversation to everyone.
His viewers went wild in the chat, spamming heart emojis and comments about how sweet the couple was. Max ended the stream with a laugh, addressing his fans. "Alright, you heard the boss. I gotta go feed the cats. See you all next time."
On the same note, another clip from a video for RedBull with Checo was included, they had been asked to show the most recent picture in their phones.
"Oh it's from this morning, my girlfriend with the kids," Max said, showing the picture to the camera.
"The kids?" Checo asked with a laugh.
"The cats are our kids," Max shrugged, "Jimmy and Sassy Verstappen."
A particularly touching moment was from a press conference after a difficult race. Max had finished fifth, a rare position for him given his usual dominance. When asked how he dealt with setbacks, he gave a candid response.
"It can be tough, but my girlfriend always knows how to lift my spirits. She's my biggest supporter and always finds the right words to say. Just being with her makes everything better, no matter how bad the race went."
During a clip of Max giving a tour of the Red Bull factory, he stopped at a wall covered in race-winning memorabilia. Among the trophies and champagne bottles, there was a small, framed photograph.
"This is special to me," Max pointed it out, "It's from my first win with Red Bull. But look closer..."
The camera zoomed in to show a young woman in the background of the photo, cheering in the pit lane.
"That's my girlfriend," Max said softly. "She was there for my first win, and she's been there for every one since - even if she can't always be at the track. The team knew how much that meant to me, so they made sure she was in this photo when they framed it."
In the next segment, Max was asked about his favorite off-track activity.
"I love cooking," Max grinned, "Well, more like watching my girlfriend cook. She's amazing in the kitchen, and I'm just there to taste-test everything."
The compilation included a moment during a press conference, Max addressed a question about his girlfriend facing criticism online. The question arose after she received negative comments following a public appearance with him.
"Look, it's tough sometimes," Max began, his expression turning serious. "She didn't choose this life, but she supports me through everything. It's not fair for her to get hate just because of who she's dating. If you have a problem with me that's fine but don't go after my family or my girlfriend because that is just unacceptable."
The final clip that wrapped the video us was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Max received his trophy for winning the 2023 championship.
In his acceptance speech, he thanked his team, his family, and, of course, his girlfriend.
"Winning races and championships is amazing, but having someone by your side who believes in you and supports you unconditionally is truly special. To my girlfriend, thank you for being my rock and my biggest cheerleader. I love you."
The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the perfect boyfriend.
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pearlymel · 10 months ago
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A dance— Capitano
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Synopsis : your relationship with him grows, and he seems sweeter than ever.
Wc : 3.2k
Warnings : contains NSFW content, fem!reader, reader is mostly called 'wife', he's super sweet, soft sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink kinda, reader wears a dress and heels.
Notes : part 2 is heree! I highly recommend reading part 1 here. And part 3 is out here!
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You've tried creating art, you've tried cooking (with the help of your personal maid, Marina), you've even tried planting.
Yeah, you're a plant mom now. Not only that, you're a cat mom too. Saving the poor kitty from the harsh rain one day, you couldn't leave the poor little one outside. It's mother seeming to abandon it.
All because you have become extremely bored on the days where Capitano wouldn't be here, and he forbade you to even clean your shared bedroom because he thinks it's useless when there are servants present to do the job. (He doesn't want to tire you out.)
Come to think of it, the last time you saw him, he kept avoiding you. Whenever you tried striking a conversation during dinner, he would only hum and nod. Or when you suggested to have another picnic, he flatly refused, and it felt like the hardest rejection to your face.
It's like he had his own mood swings that you had to deal with. One day he would indulge you in the activities you wanted to do, then the next he would refuse.
Like last week.
“I used to do this when i was young.” You tell him with the softest smile to yourself, your fingers working carefully with the flower petals and strings. You were determined to make this flower crown, and you were taking your sweet time just to have him by your side.
Capitano silently listened to your words, his gaze fixed on your gentle movements as you delicately fashioned a flower crown. The air between you was calm, "You have a talent for making flower crowns," he eventually responded, his deep voice breaking the tranquil silence.
"Did you learn it from someone?”
“No… just by myself.” He couldn't help but be impressed by your innate ability to create such an intricate accessory without any formal instruction. "Self-taught." He mused, "You have an unusual aptitude for discovering things on your own.”
You hum back while adding the finishing touches, and he watched your proud display of the finished flower crown.
“this is for kitty!” You smile at the thought of the little one purring with a pretty crown on it's head.
Kitty? Capitano is confused once you start talking about the cat, you seem even more excited when you described how you cuddled with it.
"You just happened to come across this crying feline in the rain, and you brought it home with you?”
“yes! Ah, well… i hope you don't mind.”
“i don't.”
And that was the last of your conversation, and it's been a week since you last saw him.
“my lady,” You recognise the voice of Marina as she knocks on the door, and you grant her the permission of her entry.
You set the sleeping kitten on the fluffed up pillow to reach for the letter she hands you.
An invitation to the grand ball… you read the contents of it, scanning every word as you pull the paper down.
“like a party?” you ask, glancing up at her, "Yes, that is correct. A grand ball is taking place tonight. It's a gathering of the higher-ranking Fatui members and a few... select guests.” she trails off, unsure of what else to add on.
“I can see that this invitation is for Capitano, not to me.”
“lord Capitano doesn't normally attend these grand balls. So my lady, you will have to go instead.” Marina explains this and you feel like you're going to have a headache.
All you wanted to do today was sleep in with the kitten. Not to trouble yourself in some party.
But… if it's for the sake of your husband's reputation, then you are willing to do it.
You hope you don't pass away too quick from your social anxiety.
“Marina, does this really suit me?” You stare at your reflection, and Marina looks at you approvingly, her eyes taking in your stunning appearance. "Sì, my lady, it suits you perfectly," she assures you, "The dress brings out your features beautifully and fits your figure perfectly.”
“and the colour?”
"Oh, yes, the color is exquisite. It complements your skin tone perfectly. You look like a princess attending a royal ball.” and you smile shyly as you take your seat, “You flatter me too much, you know?”
Marina chuckles softly, moving behind you to work on your hair with practiced ease. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. You look truly radiant today." She begins to style your hair, weaving intricate braids and pinning them in place with delicate silver pins.
Though you can't even lie to yourself, you looked absolutely gorgeous, even when you felt a little down since you would be going alone, and you barely knew anyone.
Marina pauses in her work for a moment, her expression becoming sympathetic as she sensed your nervousness. “It's natural to feel that way. But I believe you will be fine. You are strong and independent." She resumes styling your hair, her fingers moving nimbly to create elegant curls.
You smile at her, looking at her from the mirror, “thank you.”
"It is my honor to serve you.” As she finishes your hair, she steps back to admire her work, a satisfied expression on her face. "You are ready, my lady.”
You are ready.
You are not ready.
Because why was everyone's eyes piercing bullets through you as you entered the main hall?
The whispers and murmurs start almost immediately, the guests clearly intrigued by your presence. However, you manage to keep your composure, straightening your back and walking forward with confidence, just like how Marina taught you.
Stay calm they won't eat you, you tell yourself, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of their gazes.
You were here to make friends, hopefully.
You scan the room, hoping that someone would approach you to engage in conversation. Yet nobody, not a single soul, seems to have the courage to do so. The guests continue their conversations and dances, seemingly ignoring your presence.
And so, you find yourself standing alone, sipping on a glass of champagne, feeling lost and slightly out of place.
Well this is boring. You could've stayed in with Kitty and Marina, but at least you get free food. They always taste better, right?
Everyone went silent all of a sudden, but you ignored it at first and continue taking sips of your drink.
But the silence becomes uncomfortable, just what happened to the party?
You turn around, your eyes widening immediately in surprise as you see Capitano walking towards you. Your heart seems to skip a beat as you watch him approach, his presence commanding attention and authority in the room. Capitano stops in front of you, you can't make up what his face must be like right now, but you think he has a stoic expression on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly appreciating the elegance of your dress.
“husband?” You blurt out, setting your glass aside to greet him.
"Wife," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that you have finally addressed him by that term.
The tension breaks when soft, elegant music begins to play, signaling the start of partner dances in the middle of the ballroom.
Capitano seems to realize this as he glances around at the couples already making their way to the dance floor. He then turns back to you, his expression unreadable as he silently contemplates the situation.
He can see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your hand clutched at your dress.
"I suppose we should dance, wife.”
“you want to dance?”
"Yes," he responds. "It appears it's customary for couples at these events to dance together." He extends his hand in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. You take his hand, wrapping it gently around his gloved one. His fingers close around your hand, his grip gentle yet firm as he leads you towards the dance floor.
You notice the whispers and murmurs among the guests growing louder. But you chose to ignore them.
Capitano guides you to the center of the dance floor and positions himself opposite you, his hand settling onto your waist, and your hands on his shoulders.
"Do you know how to dance?" You whisper to him, making sure no one listens, and your eyes are on him.
"I may not engage in these social events often, but even I understand the basics of dance." His hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, you follow his lead.
Interesting.
He leads the dance with of assurance and grace, his movements fluid and confident. As you follow his lead and swirl together across the dance floor, your eyes meet his, and you find yourself unable to look away. The closeness between you makes it feel as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you dancing together.
You notice how he seems to turn his head slightly to look at others, mimicking their movements swiftly, it makes you smile to yourself.
His hand on your waist feels warm, almost burning even through the fabric of your dress. It's a strange sensation you've never felt when touching him, despite having already kissed (once) before.
”my dress,” you whisper amidst the graceful dance, “what do you think of it?”
You figured you always needed to give him a little push when initiating things.
His attention drift down to take in the sight of your dress once again. His gaze roams over the fabric, lingering on the way it clings to your figure, and how the color contrasts against your skin.
"It's... " he pauses, you're just wearing a dres, but he finds it difficult to describe what he feels, "Very pleasing to the eye.” he manages to continue.
"You look rather well tonight, as well.”
“Thank you, wife.”
The music suddenly shifts to a slower tempo, and Capitano instinctively adjusts his hold on you, pulling you slightly closer as he continues to dance with you.
You totally ignore how your face is almost pressed up against his chest.
As interesting as the party was, the worst part of was walking back to the estate. Why? Because the carriage decided to break down, or maybe the horses were sleepy, you don't know.
You're glad your husband is with you, or else you might've been sacrificed to the dogs at night, now even ants will fear this big guy.
But what's worse? Your damn heels are killing you. The sides of your pinky toes are already aching that you are sure it will cause nasty blisters by tomorrow.
"Perhaps next time you should wear more comfortable shoes." He stated bluntly, his deep voice betraying no pity for your situation. “but they look pretty, plus i feel elegant in them.” you stop at your tracks, looking up at him with a defeated expression.
"I'm well aware." he says dryly, "But at what cost? You're practically torturing yourself with those heels.”
He's half right, your point still stands. Beauty is pain. And now you'll have to sacrifice your beauty.
Bye bye heels. You slide them off your feet, bow having your poor feet to walk on these rocky grounds. You do feel a little better after, though.
“stay still.” He utters, and you're confused, until he takes your heels in one hand before you feel a shift of your weight off your feet, finding yourself being carried into his arms.
you wrapped your arms around his neck silently, your eyes glancing up at him as he continues walking like he you weigh nothing.
The air around you is peaceful. You feel safe with him, he's not like the scary man you hear from the others. Maybe to others he was, but to you? He was soft for you.
Your head leans on his chest where his heart rested, the beats of his heart makes you sleepy, but you refuse to sleep just like this, you want to spend every single second savouring this feeling.
Capitano carried you all the way to the estate, and through the dark corridors, making his way to your shared chambers.
The soft moonlight filtering through the windows was the only source of illumination, the atmosphere around you quiet.
He gently deposited you back on your feet, you're back home safely.
“thank you.” You whisper, your hands reaching to take the pins out of your hair to let it breath from the scruffy yet beautiful hairstyle, and Capitano starts taking off the heavy layers off him as well, with the helmet out.
You don't notice how one of your dress straps seem to fall off your shoulders, but he notices, and oh did that make something in him stir.
His steps closer from behind you, his hand reaching to put the strap back in place, but instead, he glances at the other strap.
It looked rather lonely being on your shoulder, his fingers delicately sliding the strap down which makes you ultimately still in your place.
Your entire body trembled slightly as Capitano's hands caressed your skin, tracing gentle paths across your shoulders and back down to the zipper on your side. “May i.. help you out of your dress?” His low, gruff voice, asking for permission to help you out of your dress, made your heart beat faster.
You could only nod in response, your voice silenced by a mixture of anticipation and desire. Capitano's touch was meticulous, his thumb and index delicately moving down the zipper with deliberate slowness, prolonging the tension.
Capitano lets out another low hum as he watches the dress slide down to your ankles, now leaving you only in your undergarments. His hands traced the contour of your body, his touch delicate yet possessive. His own breathing became ragged, the sight of you partially undressed igniting a fire in his eyes.
“Will you allow me to touch you?”
The question makes you turn your head, of course he can.
When you don't stop him from wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, he takes it as a green light to continue.
His hand first brushed your hair out of the way, to allow his lips to come in contact with the nape of your neck, “you're so beautiful..." he whispered, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your core.
“I don't…” he hesitates, wanting to move his hands away, “i don't want to do anything you don't like.”
And your expression softens at his concern, you turn around to take his face into your hands, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and he nuzzles into your touch, wrapping a hand around your wrist before pressing a kiss to your palm. You further reassure him by littering his face with your lips, giving every empty space of his skin with at least one kiss.
“Allow me to experience this with you, and i shall take care of you till i take my very last breath.” he hoists you up easily into his arms, rough hand under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body covering yours as he looked down at you.
“You occupy my every thought,” he starts, “that it feels sinful to even look at your way.” He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his hand continued its exploration, ripping your bra off to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching it gently as he deepened the kiss when you gasp, his tongue delving into your mouth, savouring your taste and angelic sounds.
He leaned down afterwards, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and your hands find his ling strands instantly, tugging on them while being careful not to hurt him.
His fingers traced down to your hip, giving them a firm squeeze before ripping your panties off next, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, feeling you writhe and tense up under him.
It felt like an unknown territory you've yet to explore.
Upon sensing your discomfort, he presses his lips to your eyelids, then to your neck, taking his time until you relaxed, until you started feeling good based off how you were bucking your hips now.
Oh how he wanted to take his time with you, but he was aching so bad that if he continues touching you he might just burst embarrassingly fast in his pants.
“Let me in, my wife.” He gently starts massaging your thighs as he parts them, making you feel more exposed than ever, but he distracts you by softly kissing you again and again while he's unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, revealing his throbbing thick, hard cock.
“Capitano—!” you try to squirm away when you feel his tip push into your tight hole, your lips parting from the way he stretched you open, but at the same time you felt relaxed with his soft whispers of ‘take your time’ and ‘you’re doing well, my wife.’
Your cunt soon takes in every inch, swallowing him whole until you were a panting mess, and you didn't even start.
Capitano then began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, letting you get used to his size, to how you feel, to how he feels as he makes love to you for the first time together.
You feel your heart up to your throat and ears, it felt incredible, something you've never felt before, your soft moans echoing in the air along with a few groans coming from him.
He shivered when he felt your fingertips trace the few scars littering his shoulders and back, his dick twitching almost instantly before his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.
His hand reached down, returning back to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, and he could feel your body tense, your walls clenching around his cock as he continued to rub your clit.
“come for your husband,” he breaths heavily next to your ear, and you come undone, your moans filling the room as he felt you milk his cock. He could feel his own release following after, his balls tightening before he slammed into you one last time, spilling thick ropes into your womb, until you were filled to the brim.
Your legs were shaking slightly around him, yet his warm embrace afterwards made you melt, eyelids heavy with him still being buried inside you.
You groggily woke up, still half in a dream-like state, the room bathed in shadows due to the closed curtains blocking out the morning sun.
As your senses slowly returned to reality, you heard a soft meow next to you, and sure enough, your little kitten had made itself comfortable in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, Capitano, who was still asleep beside you, didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the creature's presence.
“pst,” you whisper to your husband who only hummed in acknowledgment of your attention. “Can we go have a picnic this early morning? With our baby kitten of course.”
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Tags: @sayastyx, @nastylilcvnt, @bigboygoose,
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nishiyako · 1 year ago
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After A Long Day (NSFW)
Paring : Kenji Sato x Reader
Tags : Doggy style, Vaginal penetration, Make outs, praise , after care, Fluffy ending, Reader has some type of long hair, established Relationship, Kenji has some sort of complex.
Summary : After a long day of work, Kenji comes home to his lovely girlfriend with a surprise, merch she got of his jersey. Seeing his name and player number on you does wonders to his already inflated ego.
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Kenji Sato was everywhere, his face and name of hundreds of billboards and products, it dose something to someone's ego.
He loved the support from fans, the attention from media but most importantly, he loved coming home from a long day of interviews, events, and partiess to you.
Simple and lovable you.
He parked his bike outside before entering his mansion, placing his helmet and keys on the dinner table before seeing you sitting in the living room on your phone while the TV was running.
He made his way over to you, your eyes looked up from your phone screen to see him suddenlt infront of you, you can't lie that you got a little startled but you were more happy he was back before it got too late,
He bends down and plants a soft kiss on your forehead, tucking a stray strand of hair away from your face in the process. He sits beside you as he unzips his biker jacket, "whatcha' watching?" He asks, wondering what's got you so focused this late at night, throwing his jacket to the end of the couch promising himself he'll clean it up later, throwing his arm around your shoulder, pulling himself closer.
"It's a tie between the TV and my phone if I'm being honest" you giggled placing your phone down, you met his loving gaze, placing your hand on his chest, softly kissing his cheek "how was your day sweetheart?" You asked softly, almost as a way of apologizing on you being so voided.
"Good, busy as always." He said like he was waiting for that question all day, meeting your hand on his chest, moving it, holding it while it rests on his lap "Well, it was mostly interviews and shooting for promotions for the team, after that we had a few drinks."
You listened intently as he got into the details of his day, complaining mostly. Giving your thoughts and opinions whenever he asked.
"That's about it. What did you do the whole day?" He asked after wrapping up his day, "Nothing really, just watched TV and cleaned up here a bit, " you said plainly before you stood up from the couch.
"Something I ordered came in the mail though," you said with a smile on your face. "Yeah? What is it?" He asked, as your smile peaked his intrest.
You took his hand, pulling him over to the bedroom, perverted thoughts alredy entering his mind, thinking you probably ordered some slutty liengre and wanted to show him.
You sat him down on the bed as you escaped into the bathroom, asking him to wait for a moment as you closed the door.
As soon as that door shuts he alredy started imagining what you're gonna walk out wearing, probably wearing something tight and strapy, an idiotic smile alredy appearing on his lips from picturing you in something that small.
But he remembered you weren't the type to get something like that, maybe a new dress? Something light for summer. His past thoughts still lingering no matter how cute the dress would be, imagining just lifting it over your hips and fucking you dumb.
His hands covered his red tinted face from just imagening it, sexual frustration just from you keeping him in suspense, "Ken? You ready?" Your voice through the door snapping him back to reality "Huh? Yeah, yeah." He said, a slight stutter from his voice.
You creecked the door open, as he took a deep breath, he opened his eyes.
You wore an oversized jearsy with his team's name on it, it looked simple enough, He thought it was cute, swing you show support for his team, practicly his second family.
Until you turned around, moving your hair to the side and there he saw it, a big 7 and his last name on your back.
You couldn't miss it either, it was right there, black bold lettering on the thin white fabric. You walked closer to him as his eyes were fixated on the way it hugged your body and how your thighs were peaking of out of the fabric just bearly.
Straddling his lap as he still couldn't find the strength to move a muscle, until he did.
His shaky hand going under the jersey, rubbing your bare hip, as you kissed him, your hands running through his hair as his hands creeped up your thigh looking for some panties to pull down, truely a perfect way to end his day he thought.
A giggle exits your mouth as he pulled away from the kiss, a puzzled look on his face before he felt you push him down on the bed snapping him back to attention suddenly, your mouth alredy leaving marks on his neck eagerly, seeming like the both of you werent even on the same wavelength.
"You arnt gonna find something down there, I'm not wearing anything" you whisper nonchalantly before continuing to attack his neck with kisses and love bites.
Basically hinting the fact that you're weren't wearing panties.
"You planned this didn't you" he breathed out
Is eyebrows widen in suprise, he takes a mintue sinking it it before accepting his fate before he layed back with stupid smirk, enjoying the free hickies while he undid his jeans.
In a few minutes you found yourself under him, the jersey just slightly above your midriff, his eyes widened. Holy shit, you really weren't wearing anything under that.
His signiture grin on his face as he pulled down his jeans just above his thighs, he swore he saw hearts in your eyes when you felt him press against you.
He had a feeling you've been pent up for a while, he was just too busy to do anything about it, until now ofcourse.
You felt him pick you up and made you lay on your stomach, pulling your hips right against him, feeling him throb in-between your legs, so close yet so far from where you realy wanted it, you felt his hand grip onto the flesh of your hips.
He leaned down, closing the distance between you two, his chest right against your back and his lips millimeters away from your ear "Feel that? All for you babe." He said in a husky tone, right against your ear, a grin on his lips after hearing a whine come out of your mouth hearing those words.
Your body jolted, feeling something familiar prod inside you, His mouth still right against your ear, not changing a single thing. you heard his breath hitch everytime he gets deeper.
Your body shivered from the feeling, you've missed this. You've both missed this.
He held your hands over your head, pressing them against the bed sheets as he gently bucked his hips, moving carefully feeling how tight you were around him yet taking him so well.
He was taking it in, fucking his perfect girlfriend, having her perfect voice loud enough to echo around the house, thanking his perfect self he got a place far from anyone else.
He got to have you, all to himself, after a long work day, wearing a jersey with his name on it.
With his name on it.
He let's go of your hands remembering something, one of them holding you by your hips, rutting in and out of you while the other one tucks your hair to the side of your shoulder, revealing the back design of his last name and player number on your back.
Shit, he felt so egotistical and narcissistic but this was better than any kind of liengre or sundress you could ever buy.
Looked like a scene from a wet dream he could've had.
You felt him pick up the pace, started moving aimlessly yet his tip kept rubbing the perfect spongey spot inside you. Your voice started raising, getting louder than it always was, not like you could say anything from your fucked out state.
His muscles started to tense, getting lost into he feeling of being inside you, spitting out praise.
"You're doing great baby," or "you look so fucking good for me." He'd coo, with just saying how much he loves you, and parts of you like how your hair was a mess, how perfect it looked when his cock would disappear inside you, or just worshiping your ass.
And most importantly that desperate arch on your back, only making it easier for him to hit that sweet spot over and over again.
The room being filled with the sound of moans, skin slapping against skin and the creaking of the bedframe. Laser focused on the overwhelming feeling of your walls around him, fluids dripping down your thigh, staining the bed sheets.
"Fuckk, Kenji, Kenji!" you cried out, making him stutter in his thrusts, hearing his name escape your lips a few times.
Hundreds, thousands, even millions of fans have cried out his name but nothing was quite like that one.
He kept going, this time with quicker, more feverish thrusts making you start to babbel words, "Whyd you stop?" He teased "cmon, who do you belong to?" He said, a sinister laugh following his remark.
"You" you breathed out still being thrusted in and out to, "names baby, I'm gonna need names." He said in a faux pity tone, you didn't even have to turn around to know he had the biggest, dumbest smile on his face right now.
You melted in his grip, you moaned his name again with more passion, feeding that ego of his. Knowing only he was the one making you feel like this, the leg trembling, spot hitting, eye watering kind of sex.
With his player number and last name on your back, he was thinking of finnishing inside and starting a family alredy, making you really his.
But that would be a bit too much to baby trap you, he knew you weren't going anywhere.
Seeing his last name on your back just drove him crazy, sining in the thought that one place, one day, that's gonna be yours too.
He wakes up from his baby fever trance to your voice "Fuck, Kenji... I'm so fucking close" you curse out, your hand meeting his, his other one continually making you bounce against him.
His spare hand layers over yours, holding it against the bedsheets, as he closes the distance once more, his lips right against hers, "Go on, you've earned it." He says before buying his face into the crook of your neck.
At that moment, you started seeing stars
He feels your walls tightening around him and you moan out his name for the final time. Seeing your body tense up and legs shake for him was something he would never forget the feeling of, knowing how good he made you feel never gets old.
His thrusts slow down as you come down from your high. He pulls out stroking his shaft a few times to the view of your fucked out body, using the white opaque liquid as lube, spilling his warm seed onto your curves, some hitting the new jersey by accident.
"Shit, you might want to wash it now." He laughed, you were too tired to make a comment on him alredy cumming on your new jersey.
Minutes pass, maybe around an hour. You see your loving boyfriend bring you your favorite tea "still sore?" He asked, "just a bit.." you reply back.
Now in a new pair of clothes and him snuggling up to you in bed, turning on the TV and putting on both your favorite series.
Truley, the perfect way to end both your days.
●●●
A/N : Haven't posted in a hot minute, I know. Sorry to my followers, I know this is something new, but I swear the bnha fics r coming, there somewhere in my files 😭
A/N : Those who've read in in the first 13 hours actually pointed out there was a typo, so thank you for that <3. I'll try to spell check more diligently since I mostly only write late at night <33
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xjulixred45x · 2 months ago
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Imagine an adult Yuu who arrived at Twisted Wonderland PREGNANT.
This could be considered part of the Yuu! Parent variables (?). Perhaps the poor woman was returning from an early ultrasound (at 2 or 3 months old) when the black carriage hit her, scaring her to death upon her appearance in TWST. She must have thought she was about to be sacrificed to a cult.
I can definitely imagine the Squad characters being much more understanding/soft of this Yuu, especially Ace and Deuce. Ace wouldn't be so malicious at the beginning of the game (I'd like to believe that not even he would be capable of laughing in the face of a pregnant woman), and instead feels obvious guilt because Crowley has entrusted her with a mediocre job.
Deuce, my sweet boy, will set off all his alarm bells. He's the most outraged that the headmaster is forcing a pregnant woman to work ALONE, and if his dorm leader hadn't been so strict in the beginning, he definitely wouldn't let Yuu sleep in a dorm that's falling apart. Has Crowley gone crazy? Does he have no shred of decency?!
Grim probably thought at first that Yuu had eaten her baby, haha, and had to receive the wonderful "birds and the bees" lecture (much to Ace's amusement at Grim's horrified reactions). Let's just say Grim now insists on standing sentry in case Yuu decides to do anything too "dangerous for the baby" (humans are fragile even with magic; he has to take care of his minion!).
Jack, bless him, also tries to help make the ramshackle dorm safer alongside Epel, whether by removing the most rotten parts of the structure, helping clean, assisting with Yuu's errands, etc. Especially when she starts showing more of her bump.
GOD, IMAGINE THE DORM LEADERS!
Riddle was probably the only one who didn't realize Yuu was pregnant until the events of the Savanaclaw episode. And when he found out he almost seriously hurt a PREGNANT WOMAN? Trey and Cater practically had to keep him from banging his head against a wall for half an hour out of embarrassment and shame. He also drafted a LONG apology for Yuu, which was delivered with a giant strawberry cake (and one of those exaggerated bows I KNOW Riddle would do).
Thanks to his mom (for once in his life), Riddle is the most knowledgeable about useful pregnancy stuff! Whenever Yuu goes to Heartslabyul, she has access to calcium- and iron-rich meals (prepared by Trey), and teas that boost her immune system and combat morning sickness. Riddle is careful not to give her things like black tea or rosemary tea, knowing they could have negative effects (if it were up to Riddle, Yuu probably wouldn't walk unaided).
Leona is much more respectful to a female Yuu, we know that, but I don't think he has the energy to be rude, or be especially , well, Leona, to a PREGNANT woman. This ends up bringing out a side of Leona no one thought existed: an almost delicate side. Sure, he's still lazy and sarcastic, but he doesn't say no to Yuu when she asks for help with something, whether it's bringing something to her dorm or dealing with a difficult situation. he dosent even COMPLAIN. what did he do to the real Leona??
We all know Crowley doesn't give Yuu and Grim enough money to live comfortably, let alone considering they could soon have a new member on ramshakle. Yuu is now surprised to find extra money in the dorm after certain visits. Not that he'll admit it, but it makes everyone feel more at ease.
Again, I want to believe Azul wouldn't be capable of leaving a pregnant woman homeless, at the very least he offered her a place to stay in Octavinelle. It turns out the twins (especially Floyd) quickly took a liking to Yuu.
A cute scenario I came up with, when Yuu already has a prominent baby bump, is that she tries to joke with the Leechs that the nickname "shrimpy" doesn't suit her anymore, and that maybe they should change it to "whaley."
AND FLOYD IS LIKE, "Why are you saying that, Koebi-chan? :( Is someone calling you that? Come on, tell me :)"
I think the Octavinelle folks genuinely don't know how human pregnancy works, so they're surprisingly gentle and caring with Yuu (even when the baby is born, I can see Monster Lounge having a kids' menu for them).
Kalim, my god, Jamil is going to have to stop him from giving Yuu a completely equipped nursery for both her and the baby. Ironically, the one who's the most normal about pregnancy (the guy has 30 younger siblings, so he KNOWS about these things) and genuinely knows some home tricks that helped his mother when she was pregnant.
offers to organize a baby shower/gender reveal party! The bad thing is that it ends up being a whole festival with all of Scarabia participating. But hey, it's the thought that counts.
There's no way Yuu, who's already 6-7 months along, will wear the school uniform simply for comfort, so if you need help finding comfortable AND cute clothes, Vil will gladly help! Obviously, he's not as strict or harsh with Yuu due to the circumstances, but he still wants the best for her. Who knows, maybe they can pick out some clothes for the baby in advance.
Idia is afraid to get close to Yuu, not only because of social anxiety, but because of the thought that he might "ruin" the baby in some way. He needs a lot of support from Ortho and Yuu to even allow himself to have normal physical contact with Yuu, and just as he does, the baby kicks. Idia's heart is gone (everyone wants to feel the kicks now, especially Ace, Floyd, and Malleus).
They probably use some STYX or Ortho equipment for some of the baby checks, and he even gives an approximate due date, which feels bittersweet. Even if everyone does their best, Yuu still hoped to have his baby at home, but he doesn't complain when the boys do all this for them. It feels like Home.
Malleus is another who doesn't fully understand human pregnancy and is incredibly intrigued. It doesn't help that Lilia's answers to his questions are even more confusing, so he ends up going straight to the source of his intrigue, Yuu. Malleus is completely mesmerized the first time he hears the baby's heartbeat, completely fascinated by what human life is like compared to fairies/dragons.
That said, he proceeds to "scold" the baby when it kicks Yuu for "hurting its mother," not quite understanding the concept, but he has the spirit. Malleus is very scared of the idea of childbirth once he's educated on it (WHERE will the baby come out? HOW!?) and will probably try to improve his healing magic SOLELY because of that.
All I can say is that if the baby is born in Twisted Wonderland, they'll have a wide array of adoptive siblings, father figures, babysitters, and weird and eccentric uncles who will take very good care of them and its mother. So you can rest easy.
__________
(ESPAÑOL)
Imagínate una Yuu adulta que llego a Twisted Wonderland estando EMBARAZADA
Esto podría considerarse parte de las variables de Yuu! Parent(?)Talvez la pobre mujer estaba regresando de un ultrasonido de los primeros meses (2 o 3 meses) cuando el carruaje negro le paso por encima, dándole un susto de muerte cuando apareció en TWST. La pobre mujer debio pensar que estaba a punto de ser sacrificada a un culto.
Definitivamente puedo ver a los personajes del Squad mucho mas suaves con esta Yuu, especialmente Ace y Deuce. Ace no sería tan malicioso al principio del juego (digo, quiero creer que incluso el no seria capaz de reírse en la cara de una mujer embarazada) y más bien siente una obvia lastima de que Crowley le haya metido en un trabajo mediocre.
Deuce, mi dulce niño, le disparan todas las alarmas. Es el más obviamente indignado de que el director haga trabajar a una mujer embarazada SOLA, y definitivamente si su líder de dormitorio no fuera tan estricto al principio, no dejaría que Yuu durmiera en un dormitorio que se cae a pedazos ¿¡que acaso Crowley perdió la cabeza, no tiene el mínimo de decencia?!
Grim probablemente al principio pensó que Yuu se había comido a su bebe lol, y le tuvieron que dar la maravillosa charla de las “aves y las abejas” (para diversión de Ace por las reacciones horrorizadas de Grim). Solo digamos que ahora Grim insiste en actuar como centinela en caso de que Yuu se le ocurra hacer algo demasiado “peligroso para él bebe” (los humanos son frágiles aun si magia ¡tiene que cuidar a su secuaz!).
Jack, bendito sea, también trata de ayudar en hacer el dormitorio destartalado mas seguro junto a Epel, ya sea quitando las partes mas podridas de la estructura, ayudando a limpiar, ayudar con los mandados de Yuu, etc. Especialmente cuando empieza a mostrar mas la panza de embarazada.
DIOS, IMAGINENSE LOS LIDERES DE DORMITORIO.
Riddle probablemente fue el único que no llego a darse cuenta que Yuu estaba embarazada hasta los eventos del capítulo de Savanaclaw ¿y cuando se enteró que casi lastimo gravemente a una MUJER EMBARAZADA? Trey y Cater tuvieron que físicamente detenerlo de que se golpeara la cabeza contra la pared por media hora por la vergüenza, también redacto un documento LARGUISIMO de disculpa a Yuu, que fue entregado con una gran tarta de fresa (y una de esas reverencias exageradas que SE que Riddle haría).
¡Gracias a su madre (por una vez en la vida), Riddle es el que sabe más de cosas útiles para el embarazo! Cada vez que Yuu va Heartslabyul, tienen acceso a comidas nutritivas en calcio y hierro (hechas por Trey), Tés beneficiosos para el sistema inmune y para combatir las náuseas matutinas, aparte de que Riddle es cuidadoso de no dar cosas como Te negro o romero, sabiendo que podrían tener malos efectos (si fuera por Riddle, Yuu probablemente no caminaría sin ayuda).
Leona es bastante más respetuoso con una Yuu mujer, eso lo sabemos, pero no creo que tenga la energía para ser grosero o especialmente, bueno, Leona, con una mujer EMBARAZADA. Esto termina sacando un lado que nadie creía que existía de Leona, un lado casi delicado. Claro, sigue siendo perezoso y sarcástico, pero no le dice que no a Yuu cuando le pide ayuda en algo, ya sea llevar algo a su dormitorio o con una situación difícil.
Todos sabemos que Crowley no da ni de lejos el dinero suficiente para que Yuu y Grim vivan bien, mucho menos pensando que PODRIAN TENER UN NUEVO INTEGRANTE PRONTO, por lo que Yuu ahora se sorprende después de ciertas visitas, aparece algo de dinero extra en el dormitorio. No es como que lo vaya a admitir, pero todos están más tranquilos de esa forma.
De nuevo, quiero creer que Azul no sería capaz de dejar sin hogar a una mujer embarazada, aunque sea le ofrecería una estancia en Octaville, ya que, además, resulta que los gemelos (especialmente Floyd) se encariñaron con Yuu muy rápido.
Un escenario lindo que se me ocurrió, ya cuando Yuu tiene una panza de embarazada prominente, es que ella trata de bromear con los Leech de que el apodo “camarón” ya no le queda bien, y que a lo mejor tendrían que cambiarlo a “ballena”
Y FLOYD ESTA COMO “¿Por qué dices eso Koebi-chan?  ¿alguien te está diciendo asi? Vaaaamos, dímelo ”
Creo que genuinamente los de Octaville no saben muy bien cómo funciona el embarazo terrestre, por lo que son sorprendentemente gentiles y cuidadosos con Yuu (incluso cuando nace el bebe, puedo ver el Monstre Louge teniendo un menú infantil para ellos).
Kalim, dios mio, Jamil tendrá que detenerlo de regalarle a Yuu absolutamente toda una guardería completamente equipada tanto para ella como para el bebe. Irónicamente el que es el mas normal al respecto del embarazo (el man tiene 30 hermanos menores, el SABE de estas cosas) y genuinamente sabe algunos trucos caseros que le sirvieron a su madre cuando ella estaba embarazada.
¡ofrece organizar un baby shower/ fiesta de revelación de genero! Lo malo es que termina siendo todo un festival en el que participa todo Scarabia. Pero hey, la intención es lo que cuenta.
No hay forma en la que estando ya en los 6-7 meses Yuu use el uniforme de la escuela por simple cuestión de comodidad, por lo que si necesitan ayuda en encontrar ropa cómoda Y bonita ¡Vil le ayudara con gusto! Obviamente no es tan estricto ni duro con Yuu debido a las circunstancias, pero sigue queriendo lo mejor para ella. Quien sabe, talvez puedan elegir algo de ropa para él bebe de adelantado.
Idia tiene miedo de acercarse a Yuu, no solo por la ansiedad social, sino por la idea de que podría “arruinar” al bebe de alguna forma. Necesita mucho apoyo de Ortho y Yuu para siquiera permitirse tener contacto físico con Yuu de forma normal, y justo cuando lo hace, el bebe patea. A Iidia se le salió el alma del cuerpo (ahora todos quieren sentir las pataditas, sobretodo Ace, Floyd y Malleus).
Probablemente usan algo de equipo de STYX o Ortho para algunos controles del bebe, incluso el da una fecha aproximada de nacimiento, lo cual da una sensación agridulce. Aun si todos hacen su mejor esfuerzo, Yuu esperaba poder tener a su bebe en casa, pero no se queja cuando los chicos hacen todo esto por ellos.
Malleus es otro que no entiende el embarazo humano completamente y esta increíblemente intrigado, no ayuda que as respuestas de Lilia a sus preguntas son aún más confusas, por lo que termina lleno a la fuente de su intriga, Yuu. Malleus se queda completamente hipnotizado la primera vez que escucha los latidos del bebe, totalmente fascinado por cómo es la vida humana en comparación a las hadas/dragones.
Eso sí, procede a “reprender” al bebe cuando patea a Yuu por “lastimar a su madre”, no entendiendo bien el concepto, pero tiene el espíritu. A Malleus le asusta mucho la idea del parto una vez que se educa al respecto (¿Qué el bebe saldrá DE DONDE? ¡¿COMO!?) y probablemente trate de mejorar en magia curativa UNICAMENTE por eso.
Solo puedo decir que si el bebe nace en Twisted Wonderland, tendrá un vasto abanico de hermanos adoptivos, figuras paternas, niñeros, tíos raros y extravagantes que lo cuidaran muy bien a él y su madre. Así que pueden estar tranquilos.
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