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makesitprecious · 9 months
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I saw barbie and can't stop thinking about...
LET'S RECAST THAT ⤵
teenage  Rhaenyra ‒ Zhang Xueying
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bixels · 8 months
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Now that Ghibli's new movie is coming out soon, I've been thinking about anime films and wanna talk about my favorite animated movie ever, Tokyo Godfathers.
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TG is a 2003 tragicomedy by Satoshi Kon, following three unhoused people––an alcoholic, a runaway girl, an a trans woman––who find a baby in a dumpster and set off across Tokyo to reunite her with her parents.
If you like the sound of that, go watch it because the rest of this post is spoilers and I have FEELINGS about this movie.
URGHH, the fact that only two moments of true kindness, generosity, and care given to the three protagonists without any expectation of reciprocity are given by a Latin-American immigrant couple and a drag show club full of trans women. The fact that, despite her loud and dramatic personality, Hana is the glue that holds the team together and the heart of the whole movie. The fact that this movie pulls no punches at showing the violence and inhumanity committed by "civilized Japanese society" against the unhoused. The fact that Miyuki craves to be loved by her parents and ends up seeing Hana as her true mother. The fact that Miyuki starts off accidentally using transphobic language against Hana, but slowly begins calling her "Miss Hana" out of respect. The fact that, according to Kon, Hana's role in the story is as a mythological trickster god and "disturb the morality and order of society, but also play a role in revitalizing culture." The fact that Hana so desperately wants to be part of a true family, yet is willing to sacrifice her found family so they can be with their own, and is rewarded for her good deeds in the end by becoming a godmother. The fact that, throughout the movie, wind and light have been used to signify the presence of god's hand/influence (this movie's about nondenominational faith––faith in yourself, faith in others, faith in a higher power. Lots of religious are referenced, such as Buddhism/Hinduism, Christianity, and Shintoism), and in the climax of the film, as Hana jumps off a building to save a baby that isn't hers, a gust of wind and a shower of light save her from death. The fact that god saves a trans woman's life because she proved herself a mother, and that shit makes me CRY.
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flockoff · 2 months
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In a another world, Peak of Combat has a plot that involves Time Travel Shenanigans which puts V in one of the Funniest Situations.
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rissouu · 4 months
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just thinking about guitarist!armin who asks if you wanted to go on a late night drive and of course you couldn’t decline, (you just loved feeling like a passenger princess in his tinted out srt). his hand gripped on the thick skin of your thigh as he nodded his head to the guitar notes— deftones played lowly in the background and both of you guys basked in the music. deftones had a way of soothing you and made you feel like you were on cloud 9, same for armin. “wanna go get some food mama?” his beautiful blue eyes met yours when he reached a red light, and you couldn’t lie. the eye contact plus his hand toying with the skin of your thigh had you feeling things.. “mm yes baby, but after could we head back home?” a look of confusion spread across his face since he thought you loved night drives, why were you in such a rush to go home all of sudden? “we could but why- oh?” it took him a while but he finally pieced everything together once he studied your facial expressions. he knew that look— knew it almost better than anything else honestly, the blonde chuckled lowly as he felt his dick practically jumping. “anything for you my princess..”
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mediadeepdive · 4 months
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LISTEN TO BLACK PEOPLE!!! STOP SILENCING BLACK VOICES!!!
hazbin fans are unabashedly racist now, so all of this “blm” shit was just performative after all HUH. Can’t get between nonblack fans and their little twink racist caricatures.
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caramel-cream50 · 3 months
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Nothing is more confusing then seeing people draw human!au husk as a young white man
Like did y’all watch the show..
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clownwritesfanfic · 2 days
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I Could Be A Good Mother, and I Wanna Be Your Wife
Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Class 1A is given the surprise task of caring for baby dolls. Everyone is randomly paired up in two’s, and it’s just your luck that you get your crush as a partner.
Warnings: Bakugou may be a little ooc but I don’t care
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 6,512
Disclaimer: Reader is kept as diverse as possible but wears a skirt, uses the girls locker room, has long enough hair to run fingers through, calls herself ‘mother’, being able to birth a child, and was originally written with a fem aligned person in mind. This is safe for poc, and plus size readers. The majority of the fic is also safe for trans women readers but the bonus at the end is not. (Y/N) is used only once.
Important info before you read‼️
This fic was written originally with an OC of mine in mind, however, most people don’t read Canon x OC and while I normally wouldn’t care and wrote one anyway, I am very proud of this and want as many people to read it as possible and hopefully enjoy it. So with that in mind, I took out any describing factors and her name but I did keep some of her backstory and her quirk. If that bothers you, you can move on but I hope you read it anyway because I’m very proud of this.
Also, there is another OC of mine in this story, Usagi. She’s not integral to the plot and has no speaking roles. I had to add her to keep the class even, otherwise someone would’ve been a single parent.
Any feedback is very welcome and appreciated!
Title is inspired by ‘not a lot, just forever’ by Adrianna Lenker but the fic is unrelated.
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It was a Monday, a few weeks after the majority of Class 1A got their provisional hero licenses when Midnight and Recovery Girl entered the classroom. Aizawa had taken it upon himself to snuggle up in his yellow sleeping bag and take a nap after introducing the two women, leaving them to explain what today’s class is.
The students expected Midnight, considering she had taught a few of their classes before, but there were murmurs of why the school nurse was there.
“Listen up boys and girls! We have a very special and unique class for today!” Midnight announced as she raised her hand in the air, her leather whip clutched in her hand, catching the attention of everyone (who was awake) in the room.
“Today isn’t about hero work or everyday schoolwork. This lesson is special, it will help you all later in your lives if you choose this path. The path being….PARENTHOOD!” She exclaimed while striking an enthusiastic pose.
“Wait, what?!” “Seriously?” “What do you mean?!” A series of voices could be heard throughout the classroom.
“Settle down!” Midnight got the attention of the students. “This lesson is the most important lesson anyone can learn. Whether you want to become a parent or not, learning how to care for babies and children is a vital and selfless aspect of life.”
There were a couple hushed protests among the class but Recovery Girl talked over them. “You will have one week to care for these babies.” She explained as she pulled out eleven baby dolls of various genders and races. “These dolls are specially made for things like this. These babies will cry, make noises, “sleep”, “eat”, and soil its diaper like a real baby. They’re also able to record and grade you based on how quickly you can figure out and resolve its problem. And be careful what you say around it and how you say things. They can detect anger and verbal abuse which will drastically affect your score. Now…any questions?”
A bunch of hands were instantly raised. But that didn’t matter since Bakugou stood up and slammed his hands onto his desk and yelled. “WHAT THE HELL DO WE HAVE TO RAISE SOME DUMB BABIES FOR?! THIS IS THE HERO COURSE NOT A NURSEY COURSE!”
“Sit down.” Midnight said sternly. She took over the conversation. “While this lesson isn’t exactly meant to play into your hero work, this knowledge can be beneficial out in the field. For example, in some rescue operations, it can take hours for a child to be reunited with their family. Most of the time, medics will take the child and work with police to try and reunite them with their parents, but there are times where a hero must step in and care for and comfort the child. With older children around three to five years old, they’re easier to calm down. You can talk to them and explain the situation and reassure them. But babies and younger children are harder to console in high stress situations. If you learn these things now, you won’t be stressed if you ever get caught in a situation where you’re in charge of a small child. A lot of heroes are inexperienced with child care unless they are a parent themselves or have young family members. Think of this as getting ahead of a problem before it even starts. Make sense?”
Bakugou grumbled and sat back down.
“Eeeee This is going to be fun! We get to take care of cute babies!” Ashido squealed.
“I don’t think it will be that fun, Mina. Babies are a lot of hard work and dedication.” Asui chimed in, a finger lifted up to her lips. She had two younger siblings, so she knew a thing or two about raising kids.
“Correct you are, child.” Recovery Girl said. “The infant stage is one of the toughest stages of child rearing since they can’t communicate their needs and wants with words. It’s a lot of guessing and paying attention to their body language. However, these dolls do not move so you will have to rely on audio cues to guess what the child needs.”
Midnight spoke up. “You will be split up into groups of two all determined by a random draw. Because there are more boys than girls in this class, some of you will end up in a same sex partnership. You do not have to act as a real couple so don’t freak out if you’re partnered with someone you don’t have romantic feelings for. What’s important is teamwork on taking care of the baby. You are in charge of the child for the rest of this week, including the weekend. You may chose to either take turns or to split responsibility evenly. You will be given all the supplies you will need, if you end up needing more, Recovery Girl will help you. At the end of the week you will return the dolls and we will tally up the scores and see which couple has the lowest score. The lowest score is the winner since each mistake is marked based on how severe of a mistake it was. The higher the score, the worse you did. Any more questions?”
Iida quickly raised his hand. Midnight gestured for him to speak. He stood up and loudly asked “If we are to have the baby all day for the rest of the week, what do we do with it while training? You can’t expect us to take the baby with us! That’s highly dangerous and immoral and I would expect better from such a prestigious school!”
“Yes, you’re right. We don’t expect you to keep the doll with you while training. That’s why each of you will have to figure something out. One of you will have to sit out of training unless you can find a better option. Leaving the child in your dorm and hoping for the best is not an option and neither is bringing it to training and leaving it off to the side. It’s like real life. One of the parents has to stay home and care for the child. Sometimes they will get a babysitter but that is not an option for you since the scores need to come from you and your partner only for you to pass. If you really want to train that day, you’ll either have to talk it through with your partner, or train later in the day during your free time.” Midnight answered.
“Thank you very much for clearing this up.” Iida said, bowing deeply before taking his seat.
Midnight clapped her hands. “Alright! With everything out of the way, let’s draw for your partners.” She held up a blue plastic box. “In this box is twenty-two coloured tokens. There are eleven pairs. Each one of you will reach into this box and pull out one token, when everyone has a token, you will be given time to find the person with the same colour token. They will be your partner for the rest of the week. You may not switch partners. Each colour is already assigned to a baby as well, so you don’t get to chose that either.” As she finished explaining she walked around the room letting everyone reach in and pull out a token. When the box was empty she returned to the front and allowed the class to find their partners.
Midoriya and Uraraka had the yellow tokens, Shouji and Asui had the purple tokens, Mina and Kirishima had the red tokens, Kaminari and Jirou had the orange tokens, Hagakure and Yayorozu had the light blue tokens, Sero and Mineta had the black tokens, Usagi and Tokoyami had the dark blue tokens, Todoroki and Ojiro had the pink tokens, Iida and Aoyama had the green tokens, and Satou and Kouda had the white tokens.
You looked down at your brown coloured token and looked back up to scan the room. All your classmates were already paired up and either happily talking about how it would be to raise a baby together or complaining about their partner. You could faintly hear Mineta crying about not being paired up with a girl. You look across the room at Bakugou who was still sat at his desk, glaring at his token.
Upon closer look, you could see that it was the same colour as yours. You sighed, already accepting that you’ll basically be a single parent as you can’t imagine he’d want anything to do with this. You reluctantly stood up and made your way across the classroom to him.
“Um…hey. Looks like we have the same colour. Guess we’re partners for the week.” You said, gently.
“I can fucking see that. I’m not blind, dumbass.” He retorted.
Ah, it seems he’s decided to take on the verbally abusive and absent father route already. You’ll have to do your best to make sure you get a low enough score. You’ve never taken care of a baby before. You had baby dolls as a kid but they’ve never graded you before. This was a whole new challenge and you could feel the anxiety pooling in your stomach.
“Right…well. We should talk about how we want to do this.” You started. “I think we should take turns each day. I could take it today and you take it tomorrow and repeat. I know you probably don’t want to skip a day of training so I can take it during training even on your days. There’s not much really for me to train anyway so I can afford to lose a week of it.” You let out a weak laugh.
Bakugou growled. “Do whatever you want but don’t be stupid. You can train on the days I have it. Don’t stop your training over some dumb doll.”
“But…you would be stopping yours if you-“ You get cut off by the blonde.
“I’m already the best in this whole class! Missing a few days of training isn’t going to do anything. Besides, you’re weak and you need to be at your strongest so I can beat you and prove that I’m the best in this entire school!” He yelled. You think that was a compliment albeit he put it weirdly.
“Ha…yeah…okay.” You replied. Just then the bell rang and everyone started to put their stuff away. You went over to your desk to do the same.
“Please return your tokens to the box! And before you leave, pick up your baby with the matching colour onesie and the bag of necessities. You have the rest of the day to yourselves.” Said Midnight.
You slung your bag onto your back and walked to the front of the room and dropped your token back into the box. You waited for your classmates to fizzle out a bit so you could get your baby. The dolls were all lined up in car seats. You found the one wearing a brown onesie, a girl with blonde hair. You chuckled to yourself at the resemblance to your partner.
You grabbed the handle of the car seat and went to grab the big duffel bag next to it when someone grabbed it before you. You look over to see Bakugou standing over you, glaring off to the side.
“Move it.” He gruffed out as he slung the bag over his shoulder.
You left the classroom with Bakugou trailing behind you, still scowling. You turn around and start walking backwards to face him and hold out the car seat so he could see the doll nestled inside.
“Look. She looks like you.” You giggled. He glanced down at the blonde doll and huffed.
“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” He grumbled. You rolled your eyes and turned back around and followed your classmates to the dorms.
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Back in the dorms, everyone was changed out of their school uniforms and gathered in the common room with their new kids. Everyone of course…except for Bakugou, who very grumpily went to his room after dropping the bag of things off at your room.
You had went through the bag and found loads of diapers, clothing, a carrier that strapped to your chest, bottles, a pacifier, and some baby toys. You weren’t exactly sure why you would need toys, considering the baby isn’t actually real, but you guessed you’d find out the reason sooner or later.
You decided to change her out of her boring brown onesie so you picked out a cute outfit from the ones provided. You undid the buckles holding the baby in the car seat (why it came in a car seat when you don’t even know how to drive a car, you will not know) and gently and carefully lifted the little girl out of the seat, making sure to support her head.
As you laid her on the ground and started to undress her, she started making cooing noises.
“Oh! Hello….you must be awake now I guess.” You spoke to the baby as she cooed in reply. “Ha…I guess you are kinda cute.” You felt as if you were talking to yourself.
When your new daughter was dressed, you decided to go to the common room since you thought everyone would be there, and right you were. As you went down the hallway you could hear the excited chatter of your classmates getting louder. When you were in sight, Mina noticed you and waved you over.
“Hey! Come over here! We’re all showing off our babies!” She excitedly exclaimed. As you walked over, Kirishima stood up from his spot beside Mina and offered the space to you. You thanked him as you sat down and readjusted your baby in your arms.
“Course! What kinda man would I be if I didn’t offer a seat to a lady with a baby!” He replied. Ever so chivalrous, he is.
“Ha! That rhymed.” Kaminari pointed out.
“Awww you got a girl? How lucky!” Mina squealed. “Kirishima and I got a boy. We named him Kenji.” You looked down at her lap where the doll was laid on its back.
“You named it?” You asked.
“Well yeah! We can’t just keep calling him “it” and “the baby”.” She explained as if it was obvious.
Iida then chimed in, his baby tucked securely in one of his arms. “Yes, I suppose it would be beneficial to name the child. This is supposed to be taken seriously and we can not leave a child unnamed!”
There were murmurs of agreement throughout the room as everyone talked with their partners on what they should name their baby. You looked down to the small blonde doll in your arms that let out another coo and softly smiled.
“Riki…” You thought to yourself. “I’ll call you Riki.”
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“Riki?” Bakugou gawked. “You gave it a name?”
Bakugou was helping with making dinner, well, it was more like he forced everyone to let him do most of it because “no one was doing it right”. You were stood out of the way but within talking distance, your newly named baby in one arm and holding a bottle up to her mouth as she “ate”.
“First off, she’s a she not an “it”. Secondly, everyone in the class named their baby. We have to take this seriously and I’m not going to call her an “it” the whole week. Besides…I thought Riki would be a good name. It means “strong”….and since she kinda looks like you, I figured you’d want your kid to be strong like you so…” You trailed off looking down at the doll in your arms. “We can change it though if you really don’t like it.”
Bakugou huffs. “No…call it-…..call her whatever you want.” He continues to cook in silence. There’s a faint blush on his cheeks. You smile softly at him. Maybe you won’t have to do this alone after all.
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The first day goes by smoothly. You had a bit of a learning curve with changing the diaper but you managed after help from Yayorozu. Who knew she’d be so good at something like that?
You had just settled down into bed after putting Riki to “sleep” and were scrolling on your phone. It was about 10pm, most people were still awake but you knew the person you wanted to talk to most more than likely wasn’t. He went to bed at 8:30pm every night, even on weekends.
You stared at your screen open on Bakugou’s blank private messages page. UA made an app for the students to contact each other and teachers with. It worked like a regular texting app, every class had their own group chat and you could private message each other, even students from other classes. All of them were accessible to staff if needed though.
You didn’t know if you should even bother asking him if he’s still going to take Riki tomorrow. Plus you didn’t want to wake him up. You were about to turn your phone off when you got a message from Mina. You open up her message and see a picture of Kirishima with his hair down, asleep on one of the couches in the common room with their baby on his chest. You laughed quietly to yourself and responded with a cute reaction meme. You thought they would make an interesting pair for this project.
You turned off your phone and plugged it in to charge and set it on your bedside table. You got comfortable in bed and closed your eyes. It would take you a while to fall asleep so you started to let your mind wander. You realized that tomorrow Bakugou will miss out on training if he takes the baby. He already told you earlier today in class not to worry about it and to focus on your own training…but you genuinely couldn’t think on how training would benefit you.
Your quirk has always been more of a supporting quirk rather than one that could do well in a fight one on one. Your quirk is called Cheer, by speaking words of encouragement to someone, you can make your target stronger both physically and emotionally. The reverse also works, if you berate someone it makes them weaker. You can use it on more than one person but its effects get weaker the more people you use it in at once. There’s also a major weakness to your quirk. Anytime you berate someone, you gain confidence, but when you encourage someone, it takes away your confidence. Because of this you feel inferior to everyone else in your class. Even Mineta has a more useful quirk in combat than you do. You’re basically forced to sit on the sidelines and watch people fight. It helps in rescue operations but you still wished you could fight like everyone else. You only managed to get into the hero course because you racked up enough rescue points and got lucky with a three pointer.
It’s ironic that someone with an inferiority complex got paired up with someone with a superiority complex. It’s even more ironic that you managed to gain a crush on the bastard too.
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It was now Tuesday morning and Bakugou was sat in his room staring at the doll in its car seat.
You had entered the common room already dressed in your uniform with Riki in the seat. Hero training was the first class that morning so anyone who was in charge of their baby that day stayed behind and would join everyone later for normal classes. Your tie wasn’t done yet and your skirt was pulled up a little too high, showing off more thigh than you usually do, as you were in a rush since Riki wouldn’t stop crying and you couldn’t figure out why. She had finally managed to settle down when you gave her the included pacifier.
You weren’t much of a breakfast eater, especially if you were training in the morning so you didn’t go to the kitchen. You noticed Bakugou sat on one of the couches drinking something out of a mug. He was wearing a simple black tank top and sweatpants.
“Oh Bakugou! There you are. I’m guessing since you’re not in uniform you’re still taking Riki today.” You sat the car seat on the floor near him and started doing your tie. You knew you were just going to have to take it off soon to change into your hero costume but you still wanted to show up looking like you at least tried. “So I figured out that she makes different noises depending on what she wants. Most of the time she just wants to be held or given a pacifier so she makes really whiny sounds that almost sound like a cry. She was just crying now and the only thing that made her stop was the pacifier so she might start up again soon. I made a smaller bag of her things like diapers and her bottle just so you’re not carrying a big ass duffel bag later.” You were almost rivalling Midoriya with how fast you were muttering, you didn’t mean to but you didn’t want to be late and you kept fumbling with your tie.
As you were smoothing out your front, you felt a pair of hands grab the bottom of your skirt and start to pull down. You shrieked and smacked the hands away and turned around to see (to the best of your ability) Hagakure behind you.
“Oh my god, Hagakure! I had no idea who was behind me! You scared me thinking it was Mineta pulling at my skirt.” You laughed and grabbed onto the girls arms.
“Ahhh I’m sorry! I just noticed your skirt was up a lot higher than normal and you almost showed off a bit too much.” The invisible girl explained as you fixed your skirt. “Come on, we got to get to class!”
“Right, yeah, I’m coming.” You responded as Hagakure held your hand. You quickly turned to Bakugou again who once again had a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “You sure you’ll be okay? I know it’s only for an hour before I see you again so if you want to pawn her off to me next class then that’s fine.”
“Tch…how incompetent do you think I am? Of course I can take care of some stupid doll for an hour!” He barked back at you.
You felt Hagakure pulling you towards the front door. “Ok, well…see you later then!” You said as you finally took off with your friend, leaving Bakugou and a few others scattered around the common room.
“Heyyy, Bakugou! You get stuck on babysitting duty too?” Kaminari taunted, his baby settled in a carrier strapped to his chest.
Bakugou growled. “It’s not babysitting when it’s your own kid you idiot. And you look dumb with that thing on.” He stood up and grabbed the handle of the car seat and went off to his room. He could hear Kaminari complaining as he left.
Now here he was, in his room having a staring match with a doll. He wasn’t sure what to do for an hour, let along with a baby. He glanced up at some math homework left on his desk and decided to finish it up so he was ahead of everyone else in class. Ten minutes past when his concentration was interrupted by whining. He looked over at the car seat that was faced away from him at this angle and sighed. He reached over and turned it around.
“Jesus. She didn’t mention how fucking annoying it would be.” He muttered to himself as he undid the straps and lifted the baby out. “What the hell is your problem, huh?” He asked, surprisingly not as loud as he normally would. He thought maybe she was hungry and remembered you said something about a small bag with her bottle in it. He looked around but couldn’t find it. In fact, he didn’t remember seeing any bag with the baby anyway. He grumbled as he picked up his phone and opened up the messaging app and sent you a private message.
In the locker rooms you heard your phone buzz and decided to look at it as you were changing. You saw a notification from Bakugou and quickly opened it.
Katsuki Bakugou: hey, dumbass. she’s crying but I can’t find that bag you were talking about
You winced as you remembered that you never actually grabbed the bag in your rush to get downstairs.
You: damn I must have forgotten it in my room, sorry. feel free to go and grab it. my room code is 6678 it should be on my desk. you know which floor I’m on right?
Bakugou scoffed.
Katsuki Bakugou: yes I know. I’m not stupid.
You: never said you were <3 have fun lol
You didn’t realize you sent the heart. It was muscle memory from texting with your friends, but it sent Bakugou for a loop.
After he had quickly made his way to the second floor and grabbed the bag you mentioned, he went back to his room where he had left the baby on his bed. Her whining had turned into crying by now.
“Alright, Alright! I got your damn stuff.” Bakugou sat on the floor and settled the doll into his arm. He removed the pacifier and held the bottle up to its mouth. He felt relieved when the crying stopped. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He thought out loud.
He rested his back on his bed and started to drift off in to thought. Why did you send that heart? Did you mean to do it? Was it a reflex? Were you making fun of him? No…that couldn’t be right. You were one of the few that took him seriously. Sure you teased him sometimes, but not as much as the others. He thought back to a time where he accidentally overheard something he probably shouldn’t have that still made his heart feel weird.
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Bakugou was making his way to the kitchen to get something to drink. He could hear you and the other girls of Class 1A giggling and talking about random shit.
He was going to ignore the group when something made him stop in his tracks right before he would be seen.
“Sooo, who do you like?” Mina asked with a teasing voice.
“Who, me?” You asked as Mina nodded. All eyes were on you and you felt yourself blush. “Well…I guess I kinda have a thing for Bakugou…” You answered shyly, playing with the hem of your shirt.
“What?!” “Wait, Bakugou?!” “Really?” The girls cried out in unison.
“Why is that so shocking? You guys seriously don’t think he’s at least a little bit attractive?” You inquired.
Bakugou stiffened at the confession and he felt his heartbeat speed up. You…had a crush on him? Someone actually was interested in him romantically?
“You don’t think all his yelling and name calling is a turn off?” Uraraka asked.
“Hm…not really. Sure he says some mean stuff but…he doesn’t actually mean it.” You reasoned.
“I don’t know…he always seems to be serious about it. I mean he doesn’t even know our names.” Jirou huffed.
“Yes he does!” You laughed. “He’s not stupid. He’s a lot smarter than I think any of you give him credit for.”
“He is in the top our class academic wise as well as hero wise.” Yayorozu chimes in.
“Exactly. Have none of you realized that a lot of his plans actually work? He may seem like he’s rushing into things but it’s obvious he’s put clear thought into his plans. And the fact that he can make one up that quickly is impressive. He’s also more compassionate than you’d think.” You said, leaning back on the couch.
“Well I think you’re wrong with that.” Tsu replied.
“Because you guys are only seeing the surface level. You’re not reading in between the lines. For example, remember when we just moved into the dorms, the talk Mr. Aizawa had with us outside?” They nodded. “When Mr. Aizawa left, you could feel the uncomfortable tension in the class at being reminded of what happened. Bakugou grabbed Kaminari and made him go all dumb because he knew it would make everyone laugh. And it did! The tension was gone instantly! Bakugou really does care, he just doesn’t know how to show it like other people. And remember the school festival? He totally could’ve refused to play the drums but he did it anyway! That’s what I like about him. He’s not a cold hearted asshole, he just wants you to think he is. I use to be like that too.” You trailed off, looking ashamed.
“Wait. YOU were an asshole?” Mina prodded.
You sighed and nodded. “Yeah, back when I first got my quirk. I realized that putting other people down gave me a lot of confidence. I went on a power trip and started bullying everyone. I started to realize that the “friends” that I did have were only my “friends” so they could escape my words. Made me feel like shit when I found out. Now I hate using my quirk like that unless absolutely necessary. But yeah….I see through Bakugou’s walls and I guess it just made me fall for him.” You changed the subject.
“Wow…you’re whipped for him, aren’t you?” Mina teased.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don’t tell him that. I don’t need him on my ass about it.” You blushed and waved her off.
“You sure you don’t want him on your ass?” Mina teased again.
“OH SHUT UP!” You threw a pillow at her as the girls laughed.
———————————————————————
Bakugou had zoned out at that memory. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, it’s your fault for being so damn loud and talking about him in the first place! It’s been a few weeks since that and it’s still fresh in his mind. Did he like you back? He wasn’t sure. On one hand he was pissed at how you managed to figure him out so easily, but on the other hand…he felt comforted knowing someone understood him and didn’t make fun of him for it. He will admit that you weren’t that bad looking or as stupid as everyone else. He did wish you would see the potential you had with your quirk, though. He could feel his cheeks start to heat up and he scoffed, snapping out of his thoughts and looking back down at the doll in his arms.
“I guess…she’s not so bad…” He said softly to Riki.
———————————————————————
Training had finished and you and the rest of your classmates were on your way to your next class.
Upon entering the classroom you noticed everyone that had skipped out on training standing around, babies either in their arms, strapped to their chest, or in the car seat. Bakugou was sat in his spot, chin in his hand looking out the window to his left.
You had a few minutes to spare before class started so you walked up to your partner. “Hey! How’d it go? Was she fussy?” You asked as you squatted down to see Riki, who was in her car seat on the floor next to his desk.
“Tch, no. I told you I know what I’m doing.” He grumbled.
“I’m pretty sure none of us know what we’re doing but it’s nice to know that you’re taking this seriously.” You replied standing back up.
“HA? YOU THINK I WOULD’NT? YOU THINK I’M NOT CAPABLE OF THIS?” He yelled as he let off small explosions.
“Course not. I did kinda think you would end up leaving most of this to me though. But it’s nice that you’re playing along.” You smiled sincerely.
Iida started ushering everyone to their assigned seats as class was about to begin. You patted Bakugou on his shoulder and left to your seat near the back of the class.
He clenched his fists and glared down at his desk, he could feel his heartbeat going wild again.
———————————————————————
A few days had passed and it was now Friday night and you were at your wits end.
It was your day with Riki and she had been crying non stop for thirty minutes now. You were pacing your room with her in your arms as the doll “sobbed” louder and louder with each agonizing minute. You had no idea what was wrong; you tried feeding her, changing her diaper, holding her, giving her a pacifier, you even tried the toys that they provided but nothing was working!
You were close to tears yourself as you thought about how this would affect your grade and how pissed Bakugou would be if you ruined it. The whole week went by just fine, it never took this long for her to settle down. You had gotten lucky with the baby you were given as she was so easy to care for, but this moment right now was proving difficult.
Feeling like you had no other choice, you left your room with your still wailing daughter in your arms and quickly made your way up to Bakugou’s room.
You knocked on his door while still trying to shush Riki. When Bakugou opened the door, he looked like he had just woken up which made you start ranting.
“Bakugou, fuck, I’m so sorry to bother you right now I know you like to go to bed early but she’s been crying like this for like thirty minutes now and I’ve tried everything but she just won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do and I’m probably gonna make us fail cause I can’t get her to fucking stop and I just…” You panted “…can you please help me?” You nearly whined.
“Give her to me.” Bakugou reached out as you transferred her into his arms. He walked away with the crying doll, leaving his door open. You decided that was an invitation so you slipped into his room and gently closed the door behind you. You watched as Bakugou gently bounced the doll in his arms and started petting its blonde head.
You stared in awe as Riki started to finally quiet down until she was silent. You breathed out a sigh of relief but tears started to quickly gather in your eyes. Bakugou had opened his balcony door and stepped outside to the cool air. You ran a hand through your messy hair and followed them out onto the balcony. The not quite freezing but cold air nipping at your skin. It felt nice as you didn’t even notice that you were sweating from the stress. You bent over and rested your elbows on the railing and placed your head in your hands, trying to hold back your tears.
“She had been crying for so long…I tried everything but nothing worked. But the minute you have her she finally stops. What the hell am I doing wrong? Why am I such a bad mother?” You muttered more to yourself but your partner could hear you anyways.
A minute of silence went by as you tried to not let your tears fall when Bakugou finally spoke up, surprising gently. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you barely know how to handle.”
He leaned his back against the railing next to you. His arm barely grazing against your shoulder, his way of trying to comfort you. You sniffed and dropped your arms from your head and looked forward out into the dark courtyard.
“She’s been perfect this entire week. Nothing I couldn’t handle…but she just had to act like a total brat tonight.” You sighed.
“Hey.” Bakugou said sternly. “Don’t call our daughter a brat…that’s my line.”
You laughed at that, completely overlooking the fact that you called the doll “our daughter”. Bakugou softly smiled at your laugh, also not realizing exactly what he said. But her certainly felt his heart flutter as he looked down at the baby in his arms.
Bakugou decided he’d take her for the rest of the night so you could get some sleep. It was his turn tomorrow anyway.
———————————————————————
Monday had come by quickly, thus, ending the project. Recovery Girl had collected the dolls, and you couldn’t lie, you felt a little sad at the fact that you won’t have Riki around anymore. The class waited in anticipation to see whose grade was the lowest.
When the results came in, Midnight stood at the front of the class once again and started to call out the grades.
“Coming in last place is Sero and Mineta with a sixty-five.” Mineta started screaming about how unfair it was and that they got a faulty doll. “Todoroki and Ojiro have a score of thirty-four, Kaminari and Jirou have a thirty, Iida and Aoyama a twenty-seven, Usagi and Tokoyami with twenty-five, Shouji and Asui with twenty-one, Hagakure and Yayorozu with twenty, Mina and Kirishima with an eighteen, Satou and Kouda with a fifteen, Bakugou and (Y/N) with a score of eight, and lastly, coming in first place with the best score is Midoriya and Uraraka with a three! Good work everyone. I hope you all learned some valuable lessons from this experience!” Midnight finished.
There were high fives and cheers coming from the people with the lower scores and talks of what they could’ve done better from the people with higher marks.
You stared down at your desk smiling. Eight wasn’t so bad, right? Much better than what Mineta got.
At the front of the class, Bakugou has turned his head back to look at you and softly smiled to himself when he saw your relief. He turned back around to look down at his hands as he played with his pen. He could hear Midoriya and Uraraka being congratulated for the lowest score and for once in his life….he didn’t mind coming in second.
———————————————————————
Bonus:
Twelve years later, Bakugou had established himself as the number two hero with his own agency. You worked along side him as his number one sidekick. You both grew a lot since high school and grew closer from the experience. You managed to get rid of your inferiority complex and become more comfortable with using your quirk against villains rather than standing by and cheering on the heroes. You can also hold your own in combat pretty well now and you have a slew of support items to help.
But instead of kicking ass on the street you were laid out on a hospital bed after the longest 7 hours of your life. You were sweaty and exhausted, but it was all worth it as you looked at the little bundle in your arms. A head of blonde hair was peaking out of the blanket.
“What should we name her?” You whispered to the person leaning over you with their hand on your head and looking lovingly down at the newborn.
“…..Riki.” Bakugou said softly.
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Text
Gold Rush (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)
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Summary: Your whole life you have been Daemon’s voice of reason. Tonight, you choose to be the impulsive one. 
Warnings: Velaryon! Reader (And POC!) Friends to lovers. Fluff. Eloping. Tender, loving smut.
Requested: Uh, I don’t know for markers of arousal, but they are a mess. Sub Daemon and POC reader, as requested. I finished the bingo! Yay! 
You clutch the letter in your hand, a joyous smile slowly starting to spread on your face. Uncaring of the guards, or the people around you, you hike up your skirt and race to the courtyard, screaming with all your might. 
“Daemon!” You say, laughing. “Daemon, Daemon, come quickly.” The letter is still clutched in your hand. Your light blue slippers, matching your dress, are starting to get mud soaked; you have avoided the paths to get there faster. 
Your childhood friend is in the training yard, his armor glinting under the sunlight. For once, he is not wearing the full Targaryen regalia, but rather a simple chest plate. You find yourself a bit taken aback by how handsome he looks with the sun hitting him from behind, hair shining like polished silver. He reminds you of the statues of the Seven you have seen in the royal Sept, a halo around his head. 
Daemon sets Dark Sister down when noticing your arrival. He steps aside from his sparring partner, a knight from House Lannister, as if he were meaningless. The man shouts something, probably in indignation from the abandoned match, but Daemon only has eyes for you.
Standing on the steps near the courtyard, his full attention is a heady feeling. It nearly makes you sway. He manages to look even more handsome when a bit roughed up. 
“Is that…?” He asks, pointing at the parchment in your hand. You nod. 
“He said yes! My brother said yes!” You shout, laughing. Daemon runs towards you, even more mud soaked and sweaty than you are and hugs you to him, spinning you around. It only prompts you to laugh louder. 
“You wonderful, wonderful woman.” He says, peppering your face with kisses, uncaring of the stares from the rest of the knights scattered around. You squeal when he squeezes you to him a little too hard, only to laugh right after at his eagerness. 
At the noise, Ser Harold lifts his head, but when he realizes that it is Daemon and you once more, he only shakes his head in exasperation before returning to his guard duties. 
“And has the Queen..?” You ask Daemon, in a low voice. Sudden doubts make your heart clench. Convincing her of allowing Daemon to marry you had been hard, especially considering she had a match in the Vale already lined up for him. It had taken the two of you nearly a year, and you had only managed to soften her heart by reminding her and her brother husband were once a love match too. She had agreed only if your brother agreed to it too. 
And that had been another can of worms. You knew Corlys was ambitious and wanted to see his wife, Rhaenys, on the throne. Marrying Daemon was the utmost betrayal in his eyes, for it was clear your friend would side with his own brother if there was a succession issue. Thankfully, he had given you permission, swayed by the promise that you would keep Daemon and Caraxes out of it if the worst came to pass. 
Finally, Daemon and you could marry. You were holding the very proof of it in your hands. 
“She has. But still…” Daemon gently grasped your face, tilting your head up so he could look into your dark eyes. “We must not allow them to change their minds.” 
You looked up at him, chewing your lower lip. It was not the first time Daemon suggested eloping. Running away to Dragonstone to be wed in the traditions of your shared ancestors and damn to your families. You had never dared. Despite being oddly similar to the romance tale of the Queen and King, you doubted they would take kindly to it. 
“Corlys said…” You start, softly. You do not mind being the voice of reason. It is how it has always been. Ever since you were the little girl sent to foster under Queen Alysanne’s watchful eye. Your father had thought, back then, if you could claim the Cannibal, you surely needed a strong woman to teach you to be one. 
His plan had worked. Perhaps you had not learned much about being a proper Lady, that didn’t track mud into the halls or stab others with practice swords, but by the Gods you had learned strength.  Both of you had, under her. The thing was, Daemon always thought that strength meant charging right at problems while you thought it was better to watch and think first. 
“Give me that.” Daemon complains, taking the parchment from your hand. You yelp and try to take it back, but he raises it high over his head, where you cannot reach. You try regardless, holding his shoulders and jumping up and down in a quite undignified manner. 
Daemon watches you with a smirk, eyes lingering on the bodice of your dress. It is once you exhaust yourself that you notice he is leering at your breasts, and you give him a good shove for it. 
He laughs. He pulls you by the waist and places a kiss on your forehead. 
“You are a pig.” You complain, crossing your arms over your chest. It is not the first time you have caught him looking at you, but it is the first time it feels so intentional. Daemon and you have never crossed that line before. Sure, he has looked, and you have too, but it is only natural. You are the only girl he has been around in a consistent manner. The two of you have been partners in crime since you were children. 
Daemon has had his dalliances outside of you, of course. You know he is fond of brothels and Gods know what else. You do not mind it. This wish for a match between the two of you is not about physical attraction, but rather that if you had to pick one man to be bound with and him only one woman to belong to, both of you choose each other. It’s simple. 
You love him, of course you do. But then, how could you not? Everyone loves Daemon. He is just that charming. Maidens want to be with him, knights want to be him. He is a true dragon, the finest his House has to offer. 
And you are… You. A daughter of House Velaryon, a bit too wild, a bit too unladylike. Nothing to your name but your dragon. At least in that you take pride in. What a foe, your child was. 
“Only for you.” Daemon says, brushing a stray curl away from your face. He twists his finger in it, making it coil tighter before springing back up. 
“Sure.” You laugh, and Daemon gives your hair a harsh little tug, making you yelp.
“I am serious.” He warns, a bit threateningly. His grip on your hair is firm enough to force you to keep your attention on him.  His eyes are locked with yours. “From today on, you are mine. And I am yours. I won’t… I don’t want anyone in my bed that is not you.” 
Your breath catches in your throat. It might as well be a declaration of undying love, coming from Daemon. He is not one for monogamy, your friend. That he is now saying he wants you and only you means… It means everything. 
“But you have never touched me.” You say to him, confused. 
“Of course not, you silly thing.” Daemon shakes his head. “My father would have strangled me.” 
You fight the urge to laugh. Baelon Targaryen had never been too fond of Daemon not being a proper Prince. Unfortunately, he was often so busy with his duties he had little chance of teaching either of you manners. 
No, instead, the older Prince was much more decisive. Every time he caught Daemon with one of the maids, he got rid of them and paid them a pretty sum to forget the incidents ever happened.
“They would have sent me back.” You realize, voice barely above a whisper. If he had ever caught a whiff of impropriety between the two of you, Prince Baelon would have sent you back to Driftmark so fast you would have gotten whiplash. 
“Yes. They would.” Daemon agrees, softly. His grip on your curls soften. Instead, he starts scratching at your scalp, as if to soothe the hurt. “And I didn’t… You are good. I wouldn’t have brought you dishonor.” 
The admission embarrasses him. Daemon wants everyone to think he isn't concerned with that sort of thing. It is his armor. Being the Rogue Prince, the one who makes the unexpected move, the one who doesn’t care about consequences. But he does. When it is someone he loves on the line, Daemon does. 
He loves you. You love him. Why do you have to wait a full moon for Corlys to get here? He is not the one getting married. You don’t need a fancy gown, nor do you need to be wed in a Sept, under a religion that is not yours. 
You look up at Daemon, a mischievous smile starting to form on your face. He looks at you. Not a word is needed. Daemon knows what you are thinking right away. 
His brows pinch together.
“Are you sure?” 
“Daemon.” You say, exasperated. Who does he think he is speaking to? You had not claimed the most dangerous dragon in Westeros because you lacked boldness. 
“Tonight?” Daemon searches your eyes. He finds no hesitation.  
“In the traditions of our houses.” You agree. 
“You understand that if we…” Of course you know. The bedding. Being married usually implies that. The thought fills you with dread and excitement in equal parts. You have been trying very hard not to think of Daemon in this way since the two of you were teenagers. But now, it is not only expected, but encouraged. 
“I know.” 
His hand on your waist tenses. You can feel his grip tighten, greedily. There is so much want in his eyes that it warms your blood. 
“Alright, Lady Confident.” Daemon teases, pressing another kiss to your forehead before letting you go. 
“The dragonpit, tonight. Get us the robes and Viserys.” You point at him, sternly. 
“And what will you get?” He pulls you in again, pressing your bodies flush against each other. You tremble against him, unable to help it. Daemon has such a magnetic pull on you, sometimes you feel like the two of you are never truly apart. He is constantly pulling you to him, into him, even when not in the room. He owns your thoughts, your feelings, your desires. 
But you are not about to tell him that. You like running too much, and by the Seven he likes to chase. 
“Is my presence not enough?” You tease, deftly slipping out of his grip. You start to walk away, hips swaying. Before you are truly out of his reach, you casually speak, as if it were the most normal thing to say. “My riding gear. I intend to ride a dragon tonight.” 
Daemon grabs your wrist, pupils blown. He stops you from leaving. 
“A dragon?”
“My dragon.” You snicker. “I suppose, while we are busy with that, Caraxes and my Cannibal can get to know each other.” 
His joyous laughter chases you all the way to your chambers. You spend the afternoon getting yourself ready. You bathe, soaking in the hot tub until you feel dizzy from the heat. Choosing to elope has made you unable to seek any advice from the only female presence in your life. You doubt Queen Alyssane will take well to the news of what Daemon and you are planning to do. 
Nerves clench in your stomach at the thought of bedding him. It is needed, if you wish to really be wed in the manner of your ancestors, and it has to happen tonight. Otherwise, the tradition would not be complete. 
Having grown around Daemon, you are not fully innocent. Not only have you listened to his exploits, but you also know your body well. What worries you is the fact that he has a lot of experience on you. 
You scrub yourself clean and get up, taking out your secret stash. Pearls are one of Driftmark more prized exports, and you have quite a few. Some have been ground into a fine powder that you apply over your eyelids. You like how the shimmery white contrasts against your brown eyelids, drawing attention to your eyes. 
Some women, especially near Dorne, use black pigment to make their eyelashes look fuller. You have always enjoyed the contrasts more. Velaryons have striking coloring, or so most say. The shimmery silver hair all Valyrians share, with darker skin to offset it and make it pop even more. It’s the same logic you apply to your makeup. 
Once you have scrubbed yourself to your satisfaction, you fret over choosing a shift to wear under the robes. Daemon has sent them to your chambers already, wrapped in a cloth as to not let anyone see what they are. You note that he has selected ones with a red sash, and you frown. You will no longer be a Velaryon after tonight, but you intend to honor your House. 
Perhaps the followers of the Faith of the Seven have the right of it, with the exchange of cloaks. With no Corlys to attend your wedding, you feel oddly adrift. You exchange the red sash for a light blue one. 
Finally, with no other excuse to stall, you put on your black cloak and make your way to the dragon pit. The dragonkeepers barely spare you a glance, used as they are to your antics. 
Caraxes has been brought forth, as has Balerion. Their growls and cries greet you as you step into the lower part of the pit. Your own mount is near, but kept carefully separated. He has an unfortunate tendency of biting other dragons. 
“This is an awful idea.” It is the first thing Viserys says to you, once he sees you approach. “The two of you will kill our grandmother one of these days.” 
“Good evening, Viserys.” You say, taking off your cloak. “Why, thank you for congratulating us.” 
“Thank the gods.” You hear Daemon’s voice before you see him. You turn, finding him dressed in his own set of robes. You had not doubted him for a second. “I thought you were playing a cruel joke on me. That you were… Oh.” 
He finally sees you, dressed in your version of the ceremonial robes. He freezes. 
“You look beautiful.” Daemon says, still a bit stunned. The images of him superpose in your mind. The boy he had been, the man he is now, lips stretching into the most joyful smile you have ever seen. It makes something warm and syrupy sweet nestle inside your chest, covering you in a golden glow.  So of course, he has to be a bit crude. “And all of it mine by the end of the night.” 
Viserys sighs. He looks very put upon, your recently appointed officiant. You decide not to make him wait any longer. Daemon and you marry under the traditions of your Houses that night, with only Viserys and your dragons as your witnesses. 
After the deed is done, palms and lips bloody, you race each other to Daemon’s chambers. The few servants left behind turn to stare, and as you pass, chamber’s doors open. Everyone wants a look at the two troublemakers that are making a ruckus near midnight. Gasps and scandalized murmurs are heard as the onlookers take in your appearance. The runes are painted brightly on your foreheads for all to see if your attires were not damning enough. 
You are sure the news will reach the Queen before the night is over. But as you stop in front of Daemon’s door, you can’t bring yourself to care. He lifts you up into his arms and opens the door with a well-placed kick. 
“Finally.” He says, carefully placing you inside. You laugh. Daemon busies himself with closing the door after the two of you, and it is then that you realize. 
You are married. To Daemon. Your best friend. Your childhood companion. Daemon, rider of Caraxes, the Rogue Prince, Daemon. Fuck. 
Daemon seems to be going through a similar thought process because when he turns to face you, his face is frozen into stunned realization. Now what? His eyes seem to be saying to you. So you step closer. And closer. 
And then his hands are on your waist, and he is kissing you for the first time. 
It’s devastating. There is no other way to describe it. You have been looking at Daemon ever since the two of you met, unable to look away from him, and you finally have his full attention on you. It’s terrifying. His lips move with yours, soft and tender, as if you are something to be treasured. No one knows you as he does, no one could break you as easily as he could. 
You grasp at him like he is your lifeline, hands clinging to his shoulders. There is no finesse in the way you undress him, greedy hands grasping at his robes. Daemon allows you to do so, his hands on your hips steady and calm. It is not until the robes have fallen from his shoulders, exposing his bare skin, that the two of you separate. 
“What do you need?” Daemon asks you, voice low. You look up at him, hoping to see the same desperation you feel reflected in his eyes. What you see takes your breath away. Daemon’s eyes are almost all pupils, the black having swallowed the purple you so love. His lips are swollen from your kisses, mouth slightly agape. “I’m here.” He says, and it sounds wrecked. “I am here.” 
The softness makes you want to cry. You feel overwhelmed with how badly you would like to be close to him. 
“I want… I need…” You articulate, barely. You try to take off your robes, but your hands, so deft at removing his, are slow and stupid when it comes to removing the knots. 
“Let me.” Daemon unties the knots, taking your robes away. His hands wrap around your back, pulling you close. “You are gorgeous.” 
His hands are warm against your ribs, caressing softly. He traces the curves of your waist and hips as if committing them to memory. You do not feel exposed or embarrassed, with Daemon touching you like this. You have belonged to him, heart and soul, since before you knew what the word meant. It’s only right that it is him who you give yourself to. 
Daemon kisses you again, slow and soft. His lips trace your jaw, and then, the shell of your ear. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. 
“I seem to remember you saying something about dragon riding.��� He whispers, and you can hear the devious smile he must be sporting in his tone alone. 
Because you are mean, and so much like him, you bite at his naked shoulder. You expect him to yelp or curse, but are fully unprepared for hearing Daemon moan. 
The both of you look at each other, before a giant grin takes over your face. 
“You like that.” You smirk. Daemon’s brows raise.
“So what if I do?” He challenges, with a smirk of his own. You run your nails down his sides, almost experimentally. His eyes almost cross, expression morphing into half pain and half pleasure.  “Seven Hells, you are not allowed to do that!” He complains, and you laugh. 
“I do intend to ride, you know?” You whisper to him, not a hint of shame on your face. 
“Good.” Daemon goes sit on the bed and takes off his breeches. He parts his legs, letting you see his cock for the first time. “Princess, come sit on your throne.” 
You shiver slightly, feeling arousal quickly taking over your best senses. His cock is pink and almost angry looking, perfectly placed for you to sit on his lap and sink on it. You want nothing more than to have him inside you. 
“No.” You say, instead. “Get me ready first.” 
“Come here, then.” He orders, impatiently. “Let me touch you.” 
“You have no manners.” You complain, a bit irked. Daemon has the bad habit of issuing commands, instead of asking. Ever since he was a child, the people around him have yielded to his position or his charm, even to his good looks. Daemon always gets what he wants. 
And you don’t want him to think it includes you. Being taken down a few pegs is healthy, once in a while. So you remain rooted to your spot, naked and confident in your own skin. You start to run your hands along your neck and breasts, tantalizingly. You can feel yourself starting to get wet. 
His eyes track your movements in the same way a man dying of thirst might look at running water. Hungrily, greedily. 
“And you intend to be the one who teaches them to me?” Daemon’s voice comes out much breathier than he probably expects. 
“It is never late to start.” You agree, mischief making your eyes light up. One of your hands pinches your soft buds, getting them hard and alluring. Your breath is heavier, soft little sighs leaving your lips at the stimulation. 
“Fucking… Come here.” Daemon says. You ignore him, running your hands over your breasts. “Please.” He adds, a bit desperate.
You smirk. You take exactly one step towards him. The way he looks at you makes you feel bolder. Your stance widens, one hand dropping between your legs, teasing. 
“Please. Please, by the Gods let me touch you.” He interrupts, before you can do anything more. “Come here, just… I’ll behave.” 
You run your hands over your sides and wait a bit, as if pondering his question. 
“Please.” Daemon repeats. He looks wrecked and you haven’t even touched him. You wonder if this is what he likes about sex, how powerful and in control you can feel knowing that you have another person wrapped around your little finger. 
“I suppose I’ll allow you to get me ready.” You say, very graciously. You make your way to his lap and pull him in for another kiss. 
As soon as your hips are over his, Daemon tries to cheat. He lifts his own hips, trying to grind his erection against your core. You pull at his hair, in warning. He growls against your mouth, and insists on attempting to grind against you. 
You pull back from him, bracing your hands on his knees. Almost on instinct, one of his hands goes to your waist, to steady you. 
“Was that what I asked you to do?” You ask him, frowning. Daemon pouts. 
“I was getting you ready. You are so wet and warm, I bet I could just slide right in.” He complains, much like a scolded child. 
“Really? Then you must not know what getting a woman ready means.” You grin. “Allow me to teach you. Sit back and watch.” 
Daemon growls at you, face slowly starting to flush. You are not sure if he is more enraged or aroused by what he is seeing.  
“You can’t be serious. My balls are turning blue from…” 
“Not my problem.” You answer him, cheerfully. You remain sitting on his lap. The hand he keeps on your waist allows you to not need to support yourself so much. You free one of your hands and direct it to your pearl, where you rub slow, steady circles. 
Under the candlelight, your cunt glistens. You wonder what you must look like to Daemon, wantonly touching yourself on his lap. By the awed look on his face, it must be quite the sight. 
“Do you..?” He licks his lips, throat suddenly dry. “Do you need my help?” 
“Yes. Put a finger inside.” You spread your folds, feeling how slick you are. Daemon groans. 
“Fuck. That’s…” He presses his finger into your hole, slowly. It sinks right in. You sigh, please. Fascinated, Daemon pulls it back a bit, only to push it back inside and feel your walls swallow it. 
“Another. Open me up.” You say, voice a bit shaky. “Curl… Ah. Like that.” No other order is needed. Daemon adds another finger and curls it, a bit mean. It makes you sit up straighter, hands clutching at his shoulders. For a while, nothing exists, except his fingers moving inside you. Want is making you burn up, sweat collecting in the small of your back. You rock your hips against his hand, looking him right in the eyes. 
Daemon’s expression is open in a way you have never seen before. He looks entranced by you, as if he is in the middle of a religious experience. His eyes are fixed on your face, watching your mouth form soft little pants. His other hand is on your hips, aiding your movements. 
“I love you.” He says, sounding a bit broken, a bit in awe. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You press a kiss to his temple. “Ready?” 
Daemon nods, hiding his face on your chest. You grab his erection and line it up with your hole. He hugs you, tighter still, and it’s then that you sink on him. 
You curse, eyes going wide. Daemon lets out a groan. 
“Daemon.” You say, urgently. You feel like he is carving out a space for himself inside of you, as if he had not owned it already. “Daemon.” 
“I know.” He whispers back, rubbing slow circles on your back. He lifts his head and cradles your face, as if you are made of the most fragile porcelain. “My lady wife.”
“My lord husband.” You answer, equally tender. And it is then that you lift your hips and bring them down again. Daemon gives a punched out moan, hands tightening on your hips. 
You push him down to lay flat on the bed, bracing your hands on his chest to get better leverage. You lift yourself, up and down, until you have worked yourself into a frenzy and cannot stop moaning. 
Under you, Daemon has his eyes closed. His mouth is parted open, and he gives soft moans every time you bring yourself down. His hands are curled around your wrists, gently holding you to him. 
It’s not enough. It’s not enough, it feels like you cannot breathe if you are not near him. You need to be as close as you possibly can, and you need it now. 
You lay yourself down on top of him, until your breasts are squished against his chest. Daemon’s eyes open. He hugs you to him, kissing the crown of your head. 
“Thrust your hips.” You say, starting to lavish his throat with kisses. “I need…” You grind your hips against him, his pubic hair rubbing against your pearl just right. With the way you are laying on top of him, Daemon can’t get enough leverage to do anything more than shallowly thrust. You nearly cry from frustration.
“Shh… Just…” He rolls the two of you over, ungracefully. He grinds his hips against yours, with little to no technique. His back is hunched, hair in complete disarray. The blood - drawn runes on his face have smeared, leaving only red lines in their wake. You wonder if you look as fucked out as Daemon does. The thought makes you clench around him, pleasure building up, and up, until one well aimed thrust makes you scream and reach your peak. 
Daemon collapses next to you, his release painting your thighs. There is silence, for a while. Both of you look at each other, sated and exhausted by the day you have had. And suddenly, there is a pounding on the door. 
“I swear to the Seven, Daemon Targaryen, when I get my hands on you…” The Queen screams, and you dissolve into a fit of giggles. 
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talesfromthecrypts · 1 month
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When I think about how far back the Hays Code put us both artistically and in progressive societal ideals I get so worked up. And then I remember that there are younger people are basically arguing to do it all again and I work myself up some more.
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bloody-teared-angel · 3 months
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I don't know if I'm sad or angry about *H*H* and how it portrayed Hell and its Highest Princes, Kings, Presidents and Marquis or lack thereof. If Miss Medrano truly wanted to criticise Christianity, she could've utilised Demonology and people who work with them. And no, not all Demons are evil.
There are also videos of people having some experiences working or conjuring them and some Demons also want to share their knowledge.
King Paimon - There are videos of people talking about working with King Paimon and I highly recommend watching them. He teaches all arts, philosophies and all secrets things - an offering to him must be made.
Prince Orobas - faithful to the ones that conjure him, never deceives them, gives true answers to past, present and things to come, divinity and creation of the world, confers dignities and prelacies, and favour of friends and foes. - this Prince could be a nice depiction of Demons working with humans, since Prince Orobas along with King Paimon love sharing knowledge -
Prince Stolas - astrology, knowledge of herbs, plants and precious stones. Again, since he's the 'main character' in *H*B* they could show him teaching humans or those who desire to know more - imps or sinners. Then again....
Marquis Gamigin - teaches all liberal sciences and gives an account of the souls of those who died in sin and drowned in the sea. Stays with the conjurer until they are satisfied.
There are also tortured demons, who still wish to return to heaven - Phenex for example - also a pacifist demon, who got casted out of heaven due to not picking a side (no, not Belphegor who was just lazy). All of this could be written as a tragedy, a criticism of God and Christianity, that not all Demons are evil, how Satanists (not in horror movies) and others worship someone else other than God.
(TLDR, I still don't understand why they want to redeem sinners when heaven was shown to be worse than hell.)
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0wllight · 3 months
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White people in this community, you need to start listening to POC selfshippers more. It's very telling when you try to make positivity posts that were made for us about yourself in the tags or comments, when it's not about you. Please remember that so many things in this world are accommodating specifically towards white people and not us as POC, we are often not included or accounted for or even considered in many situations. While this may sound silly in the context of selfshipping, for many of us this is also done for fun, as an escape, or even as a coping mechanism just as much as some of you guys may consider it to be as well. And it hurts when something made to make us feel included is once again overstepped on by white people, just like we deal with so often in our real lives. Please try to consider that this space also is for us POC, and think really hard if you may be overstepping and be mindful of what you say. So many of you make excuses for your ignorant actions and need to learn accountability instead.
(White people can rb but don't comment.)
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katsumiiii · 2 years
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woke up thinking about hand placement with katsuki. like those little subtle touches that only he and you recognize.
when he’s uncomfortable he lightly taps the back of your ear, pretending to adjust one of your piercings or fondle your earlobe. but you and him have set up a system, so with every little poke and prod comes a message behind them.
the light nudge on your ear caused you to hastily shift your eyelids. you steadily sat your gin and tonic you’d been sipping on for the past hour down on the marble table below (katsuki, in his own words, wondered why you ordered that ‘shitty ass acid water’ anyways, especially since your go to drink was the complete opposite. usually you chose to settle for something sweeter like a strawberry daiquiri or lime  margarita).
“y’good babes?” you leaned towards your lovers earlobe, whispering pleasantly. he noticeably shivered at your proximity. though you’ve been dating for about 2 years now, katsuki had never exactly gotten over the butterflies you bring with the simplest gestures you do.
“jus’ wanna leave.” he continued to stroke your earlobe, his second hand (cold from the amount of heavy rings placed both on his middle, and pointer fingers)  rised beneath the muted sage green dress you decided on wearing.
you hummed at the response, fingernails trailing up his bicep. katsuki was no small man. his shoulders were broad and arms were heavy, he commanded any room he appeared in, and not because of his all too familiar snarl (which at this point seemed to be a trademark look for him), but because of the sheer size of the man. years of training and hero work built his body to resemble a tank personified (not that you were complaining).
“why you wanna leave baby?”
“these idiots are too damn loud. jus’ wanna lay in bed and do fuckin’ nuffin’.”
you snickered at the response, eyes finally settling onto his own. “you wanna do fuckin’ nuffin’ kats?” you mocked humorously.
“yeah.” he nuzzled further into your neck, breathing you in (he always said you smelled like mangos and on occasion jasmine).
“alright baby, i hear you.”
another gesture he’d often do (which might be seen as cliché), is placing his palm on the slight curve of your back. he usually did this when in crowded spaces, leading you through seas and oceans of stomping feet and waving hands.
hero gala’s were always crowded, seeing as though there were thousands of people out there helping others invited to this event, including katsuki bakugo (aka dynamite). it had taken some convincing from you to get your lover to even attend the event in the first place. complaints tumbled out his lips, ranging from ‘not wanting to deal with people in the first place’, to ‘people are going to see you in that stunning dress’ (your words not his). but, with some begging and a little bit of pleading you were able to convince the man to put on a damn suit and attend.
“still don’t fuckin’ know why I had to come.” katsuki complained yet again, hand on the expanse of your back to lead you through the shifting crowd.
“because suki, they’re giving you an award for most reliable hero. and I’m pretty sure you need to be there to accept it, right?” you say in a sarcastic tone, slightly huffing at the fact that he was being extremely difficult for no apparent reason, at least in your opinion.
“who gives a shit? they can’t jus’ mail it to me or somethin’?”
“really. mail it to you?”
“yeah sweetheart, yanno when they put the shit in a box, slap my address on it and shit.”
you growled, twisting to slap katsuki’s chest (not that it accomplished much. the man is built like a damn gorilla on steroids). “I know what mailing is katsuki.”
“jus’ making sure sweetheart, seemed a little confused there.” he smirked, bending forward to kiss your nape.
“whatever, get your damn hand off my back.” you playfully adjusted yourself, trying to remove his heavy palm from your skin.
“not happenin’, stop fucking squirmin’”
“never, dipshit.”
“this is why i didn’t wanna come to this shit, ya never know how to behave.” he lightly grabbed the back of your neck, pushing you along.
“oh I don’t know how to behave?”
“you heard me.”
“it took me 30 minutes to convince you to even step foot-”
he wrapped his free hand along the side of your hips, pulling you towards his side. “yeah yeah, keep yappin’”
“oh I will!”
so yeah ! the asshole can’t really keep his hands to himself !
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quixtrix · 5 months
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rayman, eden's feel good american dream story; an analysis
guess who's back with taking ubisoft's silly guys and cutting them open. yknow, if you strip rayman of his personality, of all the behind the scenes we get of him, we get a run of the mill news reporter that is an immigrant, who by face alone serves as a shining ray of hope. he's easily something that by all means, can be classified as a diversity hire. immigrant, nonhuman (which in the world of clh can be considered to be equated with poc irl), and notably the only one in his work environment. don't believe me?
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we rarely ever see anyone other than rayman on the show in the form of a coworker. the only time we do see other eden affiliated people, they are both white. "but you can't see red's face!!" there is a reason his dialogue makes you think of more right leaning people with their claims of 'wokeness is destroying everything' under something like april from tmnt being black and not ginger. he's a caricature meant to represent a specific group of people under fascism; those who have successfully consumed the fearmongering and have let it turn from fear of those that they are told are beneath them into hatred for them. there is also the fact that on live tv he throws up a middle finger, refers to an implied group of immigrant people as 'filthy interdimensional alien scum,' and seemingly gains no backlash for it. yes, the other reporter does try to give red a chance to go back on his words, but he sticks to it. and despite all of this, we get no indication that neither red nor the niji 6 had to apologise or received punishment for this. in fact, red is possibly given more chances by eden due to him being weirdly in charge of bullfrog's containment in a way? (i'm not entirely sure WHY he was there, but as he is one of eden's tv personalities, he's at a possibly televised trial of a terrorist.) now if you compare this to rayman, who also acted inappropriately on tv by literally saying fuck, you'd come to realise that rayman was treated so much more harshly. he was IMMEDIATELY replaced by a clone of himself, with no warning nor any indication that eden would do such a thing. it's very likely this was one of, if not the first time that rayman has slipped up like this on live tv. maybe it's a repeat offence considering his personality, but then you could argue that red is a repeat offender of the same shit and then you have to wonder why a soldier like red was not easily replaced but someone who is the literal face and voice of eden was with ease. it's because rayman made himself more than jus a story, he humanised himself by showing a peek of his raw feelings. remember that cute little exposition of the rayman kids show about hybrids? where we see all of these hybrids working as society's grunts and the kids are told to be thankful for hybrids? it's very sweet and gives a good message! now the rayman kids show is a product of eden propaganda, but rayman very much has a hand in it, most likely as a writer. he uses his platform to speak on issues that has happened and affected him. this can be seen in his biopic.
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jus sit with this image for a moment. you ever think about why rayman is specifically made as an alien? why he's specifically an immigrant? in real life news reports and speeches, there is a difference in implications when people use immigrants and not aliens. you wanna know why?
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as someone apart of an immigrant family myself, i live in a community of other immigrants. majority of them are hispanic, and while i myself am not hispanic, i am very aware of how hispanic immigrants were referred to and treated by politicians under trump's presidency. how couldn't i? even as children in middle school and elementary, we had discussions about what trump was saying because it directly targets my friends and their families. they are people targeted by a man who specifically uses derogatory terms to dehumanise them, to make it easier to justify in the average american mind that the government is doing the right thing by keeping out and protecting america from these so-called 'invading animals.' makes what red was saying earlier feel very on the nose, right? adi shankar, the showrunner for captain laserhawk, is also an immigrant man. immigrated from india, which by the way, did you know has a lot of people immigrating for the purpose of having a better life? that's a common sentiment that can be found in every single immigrant family's story. i've asked my filipino mother why she took an opportunity to live and work in america, and she told me it's because she wanted to give her children a better life than what we would have had in the philippines. hell, i bet if you share a similar background to me, you can ask your own parents the same thing and get the exact same answer, regardless if you came from latin america or africa, or asia. it's because of the concept of the american dream. everyone who has ever engaged with any degree of immigrant discussion has heard of the american dream. it's a concept that seems to be consistently proven via word of mouth, with the biggest examples being celebrities. they will always, without fail, eventually speak about the american dream within their backstories. and typically, they will use their platforms to further empower others within their community. it's why people from specific ethnicities tend to group together, why people make art meant as something akin to a homage to their people. it provides hope to the masses, makes you relate to the person on the screen, and believe that this society is truly a gracious one by providing opportunity. because yeah, it may be bad, but it could be worse. i mean we appreciate you! just look!
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dont mind the fact that the majority of opportunities allotted to you is grunt work, the work where you at the base of the pyramid, with the harder jobs and the jobs no one wants to do. dont mind the fact you will be actively dehumanised, forced to work for hours in conditions we wouldn't put anyone else in, but hey. we appreciate you. we thank you. and yknow, you can become more than what you are. yknow, we let someone just like you be more than what you are! nevermind the fact that if they slip up, they'll be met with MUCH harsher criticism in comparison to someone who isn't you! aren't we so gracious? i probably sound a bit like matpat's insane out of context real world examples, but this show is filled with political imagery, so let me be. anyways, let's get back to eden and rayman. rayman, despite being specifically from dimension x as an alien, keeps hybrids in mind when he's doing his work.
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people of colour tend to share solidarity with one another due to the fact that surface wise, we share similar struggles. to grossly oversimplify things, we all face discrimination through our appearances and are oppressed by the rules of a society created by our white oppressors. again, hybrids and dimension x immigrants can be equated to irl poc, and despite being different from each other, there is still community. rayman keeps them in mind, hoping to make things better for the overall nonhuman and nonnative (native as in naturally born) population of eden. but, rayman is not what he believes he is. because despite everything he has worked for, despite what he has tried to do, he is still a facilitator of the fascist regime that has an active hand in the perpetual oppression of his own people. one of the core concepts within fascism is us versus them. it's an easy way to instill fear (which is very much needed in fascism to make it easier to lie to the masses) and it's used in multiple layers, beginning with a large group (ex. us versus ussr, capitalism vs communism), then progressively sizing down (ex. saying all eastern europeans are communist, then going smaller and say all those affiliated with eastern europeans are communist) with the goal being to put people against each other and break up community since if you put your minds together, you'll start to realise that the fascist system is bullshit. what i've personally come to find is that in order to hide the fact that there is fascism lurking is that someone that can be considered a 'them,' an other, will be given a seat at the table. it's so they can be used as an excuse, a human shield, when they inevitably slip up and can be paraded to the masses as proof that the other is not as smart or powerful as 'us.' the 'other' within the 'us' is used as something to look down at, while also justifying to oneself that they have a place, that they are not being oppressed. they have an opportunity as much as anyone else! so long as they don't mess up. rayman messes up, and is shunned from 'us.' hes a mistake, impure, clearly not like 'us,' 'us' who had been so gracious to give this 'other' a place. he's cut out and discarded because he has well worn his purpose, and clearly, they can just get another little puppet. they'll dress him up and make him worthy of being one of 'us,' and make sure that this one won't fall to the fault of his little ideas. which is exactly what leads to rayman's transformation of ramon. being forcibly forced out and discarded by eden because he showed his true ideas makes him realise that there was no real place for him within the system. because what good is his work if it leads to what he tried not to create? it's worthless, just as the system it attempts to thrive in is.
tl;dr, rayman is a representation of the american dream, specifically celebrities. he tries to do what he can with his platform, but the fact is that within a fascist system, his impact is not entirely felt in the way he wants it to. that is why he becomes ramon.
anyways if you reached the end of THIS LONG ASS PIECE GOOD LORD thank you!! always open to discuss this and take criticism, my ask box is open in the lil 'who's asking' :^]
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candied-cae · 2 years
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Rewatching OFMD (as one does, obviously) and I realized why Ed identifies so quickly with Frenchie, and it's not just at the party.
At the very beginning of the episode when he's hanging out with Stede, after trying to feel fancy and feeling like he'll never really get to (ie, why he was remembering his mother telling him that fine things just aren't for people like them), Frenchie walks in.
And when Frenchie walks in, he's wearing one of the fancy Frenchmen's suits, and he says," What do you think? A couple of the suits from the fancy ship didn’t have blood on them and weren’t burned up, so I nabbed ‘em."
He saw a black man walk in, and just decide to put on finery. He didn't listen to the people who would've told him that he didn't get to have it, he didn't listen to the people who would've told him that stealing posh clothes was a waste. He instead saw Frenchie step into the room, doing what he wanted and taking some finery for himself, and ask the two of them what they thought of his outfit like it was just the most casual thing. Even though he wasn't even apart of Stede's aristocratic lessons, he just chose to without fear of judgement.
Then he continues," And I found this. It’s an invitation to some kind of fancy party for hoity-toity people."
He's asking them if they want to do anything with this knowledge.
If they wanted to attend, for no reason really.
Ed got to see, for the first time in his whole life, someone like him give themselves a taste of the fine life, just because they wanted to try it, for a bit of fun. And he offered a ticket for Ed to try a bit of it himself, without any care to the whole world that told him that he didn't deserve it.
And then afterwards, Frenchie was there for him when he ran out of the dinner party, asking if he was okay, understanding the sort of thing he was feeling in a different way than Stede could, and in that finale playing a song with him so he can let his feelings out.
All that was important, too. But I think it was that first second, when he walked in the door clothed in fine fabrics with a smile on his face, that Ed really identified and attached to Frenchie.
More OFMD
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lxvvie · 1 month
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That’s what I’d do to Simon’s sleeve (or any of the 141 members tattoos): https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGe55PREr/
I can see Simon letting you do this, too, and it quickly becomes a way for you two to bond and relax.
You paint his sleeve different colors every time; once, you went for all black so it looked like a total blackout on his arm.
The silent, judgemental look he shot you afterward was hilarious.
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jellyfilledeyes · 25 days
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forgot to post this but look
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