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inseobts · 21 hours ago

Note

Hello! I'd like to please request a little scenario for multiple characters if possible; I'm especially interested in your take on this with Law, Sanji and Ace given their backstory. If you're open to writing for the ladies as well then adding Robin into the mix would be appreciated! My idea is simple; an S/O with a child, and the aftermath of discovering that fact. I don't mind if it's an established relationship and there just wasn't an opportunity to meet the kid before or something else, I just like the idea of these characters dealing with the concept of surprise family/parenthood, the angst that may arise from dealing with the role of a stepparent if they want a relationship (and its happy ending if possible!) Good luck with all the requests, I hope you have fun with them!

Found Family (Reader with a Kid)

gn!reader

characters: law, sanji, ace, nico robin

tags: under each character + secret child

a/n: I started it with a fem!reader in mind and changed it to gender neutral only later since the post didn't mention the gender, so please if I missed some changes please tell me

words count: around 0.8k - 1.7k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Law:

Tags: Established Relationship, Surprise Family, Angst to Comfort, Fluff

The wind blows soft through the port town. Law steps off the ship, coat flapping behind him, hands in his pockets. He’s quieter than usual, eyes scanning the street ahead. He’s not here on a mission. He’s here for you.

You sent a letter three weeks ago.

Just one line: “I need to talk. Come if you can.”

Law doesn’t like surprises. But he comes.

He finds you standing outside a small house with peeling paint and flower pots on the windowsill. You smile when you see him, but it’s tight, like you’re scared.

He frowns “You alright?”

You nod “Yeah… I just—can we go inside? I don’t want to do this out here.”

Law follows you in. It’s warm. Smells like soup and soap. A small jacket hangs on a hook by the door. Not yours. Too small.

His sharp eyes catch it, but he doesn’t say anything yet.

You lead him to the living room and sit. He stands. Watches you.

You look down “There’s something I never told you.”

Law’s voice is low “I figured.”

You breathe in deep “I… have a kid.”

Silence.

You look up. His face is unreadable. Like ice. You hate that expression, it means he’s trying to think without feeling. To stay calm.

He speaks finally “How old?”

You blink “She’s five.”

He does the math. That means before him.

“She yours?” he asks, even though he already knows.

You nod “Yes. Mine. The... other parent's gone. Completely.”

He nods slowly. His voice is cold, but not cruel “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared.” You twist your hands “We met during a war. We never talked about kids, or… futures. Then we got together, and things felt good. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You thought this would ruin it?”

“I thought you might walk away.”

He looks away “You didn’t trust me.”

“That’s not fair,” you say, standing now too “I’ve been through things. I didn’t know how you’d react. You’re not… You don’t talk about family. You barely talk about your past.”

His jaw tenses. You hit a nerve.

You try softer “I wanted to wait for the right moment. But there never was one. Until now.”

Silence again.

Then small footsteps.

You freeze.

Law turns just as a tiny figure walks into the room, clutching a stuffed rabbit.

“Who’s this?”

Her eyes are big, curious. Law stares.

You kneel “Sweetheart, this is Law. He’s… He’s my friend.”

Law doesn’t speak. He just looks. She hides behind your leg.

You don’t blame her.

“She’s shy,” you say “But she’s smart. She reads pirates like storybooks.”

Law kneels too, finally, lowering himself to her level. His voice softens.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” he says “I’m just… surprised.”

Your daughter peeks out “You talk funny.”

Law blinks.

You laugh nervously “He’s from the North Blue.”

“Oh.” She tilts her head “Do you have a boat?”

Law nods “A submarine.”

Her eyes widen “Cool…”

She steps forward. He doesn’t move.

Then she offers her rabbit “You wanna hold Mr. Bun?”

You almost cry.

Law takes it. Careful. Gentle. Like it’s glass.

He looks at you over her head. Still unsure. Still quiet.

But he’s here, and he’s not walking away.

The rabbit sits on the table between you.

Law hasn’t said much since dinner. He eats quietly, politely. Your daughter sits beside him, munching rice balls like they’re treasure. She’s talking to him. A lot.

“Do submarines have beds?”

“Yes.”

“Do you sleep in them?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you dream of fish?”

“…No.”

You nearly laugh into your cup. Law sends you a look. It says help me. You shrug. You’re doing fine.

When she finishes eating, you ask her to brush her teeth. She runs off with Mr. Bun in her arms. The house falls quiet again.

Law leans back in his chair.

“You didn’t even flinch,” you say “When she offered you the rabbit.”

He shrugs “She trusted me. I didn’t want to break that.”

You nod, chewing on your lip “That means a lot, Law.”

He looks at you. Eyes sharp but not cold “I’m not angry.”

“Really?”

“I’m hurt.” His voice is honest now “You didn’t tell me. I could’ve helped. Been there. Or at least known what I was walking into.”

“I know,” you whisper “I was scared. I didn’t want to push you away.”

“I’m not made of glass, Y/N. I’ve lost family. I’ve lost everything. But I never said I didn’t want to build something new.”

You look down at your hands “She’s my whole world.”

“I can see that.”

“And now that you’ve met her… what do you want?”

He pauses.

That pause stretches long and sharp between you.

Then, softly “I don’t know.”

You nod. You expected that. You’re not mad. Just scared again.

Law stands and walks to the window “She’s a good kid. Brave. You raised her well.”

You smile a little “She’s got my temper.”

“I noticed.”

You walk over to him. You both stare outside. The moon is bright tonight.

“I’m not asking you to be her father,” you say “You don’t have to… take that role if you don’t want it.”

He turns “What if I want to?”

Your breath catches.

“I don’t know how to be that,” he continues “A father. A parent. I’m… I’m a surgeon. A pirate. I know how to fight, how to cut, how to survive. Not how to raise a child.”

You place your hand over his “She doesn’t need perfect. Just present. Just kind. Even I didn’t know how to be a good parent.”

He watches you. Something cracks in his expression.

“I want you.” he says.

“I want you too.”

“But I can’t lie to you… I’m afraid. I don’t want to mess this up.”

You squeeze his hand “We’ll learn together. She’s not looking for perfect either. She just wants someone who doesn’t leave.”

That hits hard.

He nods and then tiny footsteps again.

Your daughter peeks from the hallway “Hey... can he read me a story?”

Law blinks “Me?”

She nods “You have a cool voice.”

You laugh softly “What do you say?”

He hesitates. Then walks over.

“Alright, let’s try.” he says “But only one.”

She beams.

You stand in the hallway, listening through the door. His voice is low, slow, careful. Reading a picture book about sea creatures. She’s tucked in, eyes half-closed. The rabbit is between them on the bed.

Law finishes the page. She murmurs, “You’re not scary like someone said.”

You gasp quietly. Betrayal.

Law chuckles “Someone said that?”

“Mhm. They said you’re all sharp eyes and brooding. But you’re kinda soft.”

Law mutters, “I am never going to live that down.”

You grin and walk back to the living room.

He stays. Finishes the story. Even tucks her in.

When he comes out, he looks… changed.

“You did good.” you say.

“I didn’t even sweat.”

“Liar.”

He sighs, then smirks “Okay, maybe a little.”

You take his hand again “So…”

“So.” he echoes.

“You staying the night?”

He raises a brow “You asking?”

You smile “I have tea. And a couch. Or a bed, if you behave.”

He smirks “I’ll try my best.”

── .✦ Sanji:

Tags: Flirting Sanji, Soft Sanji, Humor, Fluff, Unexpected Bonding, Found Family

Sanji flirts with you every time he sees you.

At the market “Ah, Y/N! Did the sun rise just to see your face today?”

At the docks “Want me to carry those for you, my love? Your hands are far too lovely for heavy lifting!”

Even after the battle in your city, where the Strawhats helped “You’re even more beautiful covered in blood. Should I be worried about how much I love that?”

You never fall for it. You roll your eyes. You walk away. You don’t even blush.

It drives him insane.

“You’re difficult to get,” he says one afternoon, following you through town “but I like that.”

“I don’t fall,” you say flatly “Especially not for men with hearts in their eyes.”

“Ahhh, but my heart is sincere!”

You stop and face him “Sanji. You don’t even know me.”

“I want to.”

You pause. He’s annoying, yes. But not bad. He’s never pushed you too far. Never said anything mean. Just flirty. Charming. Too charming.

You sigh “Fine. You want to know me?”

He lights up “Yes! Of course!”

“Then come with me.”

You lead him through town, away from the market, away from the noise. Into a quiet part of the island. A garden path. A small house tucked in the trees.

He’s still smiling “So this is where the beautiful Y/N hides. A date, then?”

You don’t answer. You open the door. Inside, it’s neat. Warm. Lived-in. There are toys in the corner. A tiny pair of shoes by the door.

Sanji frowns “Is this… your house?”

“Wait here.” you say.

You go into the back room. A few seconds later, you return, holding a small child. Sleepy-eyed. Holding a stuffed whale. While another lady leaves the house as if her job there is finished.

You look Sanji in the eye.

“This is my daughter.”

Sanji freezes.

Dead silent.

You wait.

You expect a nervous laugh. A fast goodbye. A dramatic “I’m not ready for this!” speech.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead…

“Her hair’s like yours,” he says softly “She’s beautiful.”

Your daughter rubs her eyes, looks at him “Who’s that?”

You answer “Just... a friend.”

Sanji kneels slowly “Hi, sweetheart. I’m Sanji. Can I say hello?”

She shrugs. He waves. She waves back with the whale.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Whale.” Sanji says seriously.

You blink.

She giggles.

You didn’t expect this.

You make tea. Sanji helps. He insists, actually.

“She can’t have sugar this late.” you say.

“Then honey,” he says “Gentle on the stomach.”

You watch as he puts her cup in front of her like a butler. Bows. She bows back. You nearly choke on your tea.

“Do you cook?” she asks.

“Oh yes,” he says “Better than anyone.”

She claps “Make us dinner!”

Sanji glances at you. You nod. Why not?

He makes a simple meal. It smells amazing. Your daughter eats two full plates.

After, she sits in his lap and shows him a book of sea animals. He listens. Really listens.

You don’t understand what’s happening.

You were trying to scare him away.

Instead, he’s… perfect.

When she falls asleep, he carries her to her bed. Quiet. Gentle.

He tucks her in, fixes her whale beside her, and kisses her forehead.

You follow him back to the living room in silence.

“Well...” you say, still confused “That wasn’t what I expected.”

He smiles but smaller this time. Softer.

“I flirt because it’s fun,” he says “But I stayed because I wanted to see you.”

You stare at him “You weren’t scared?”

“I was shocked,” he admits “But not scared. You’re a single parent. That’s strong. She’s lucky to have you.”

You look away “I thought it would make you leave.”

“I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

You smile at that and look at him again. This time longer.

Sanji isn’t just charm. He’s heart. He’s warmth.

And… maybe you were wrong about him.

Your daughter’s asleep.

Sanji’s sitting on the couch, arms stretched over the backrest like he belongs there. His jacket is off, sleeves rolled up, and a soft smile on his lips.

He looks so… calm. Like this is normal. Like he wants this.

You sit across from him, legs tucked under you. You sip your tea. Your hands are shaking just a little, but you hide it well.

“Thanks for dinner,” you say “She loved it.”

“She’s adorable,” he says, smiling “And polite. You’ve done an amazing job.”

You stare into your cup “I didn’t do it alone. But… it’s been a long time since I shared her with someone.”

Sanji watches you quietly. No teasing now. Just listening.

You swallow. Here goes nothing.

“So,” you say “I’ve decided something.”

He leans forward “Oh?”

You lift your eyes to meet his “I’m saying yes.”

His brows lift “Yes to what?”

You smile “A date.”

He freezes “Wait. A—really?”

You nod.

“I mean, I’ve been asking for weeks, but I thought you hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you,” you say “I just didn’t believe you.”

“And now?”

“Now I do.”

He stares at you for a second. Then a slow, beautiful grin spreads across his face. Like he’s won a war. Like the clouds finally moved for the sun.

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for days.

“You—you have no idea what this means to me, Y/N.”

You chuckle “I might have some idea.”

“Do you want flowers? Candles? Music? Should I wear a suit? I’ll cook, of course—”

You laugh softly “Just come as you are.”

He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly flustered “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

You sip your tea again. Calm on the outside.

But inside? Your heart is thundering. So loud it feels like it echoes in your chest. And he doesn't even know your heart is actually beating faster than his own.

You’ve had to be strong for so long. For your child. For yourself. Love always felt like a luxury you couldn’t afford.

But Sanji… he’s something else.

Not because he’s charming.

But because when it really mattered, he stayed.

And now, you let yourself fall a little deeper.

You stand. Walk over. And press a soft kiss to his cheek.

He goes still.

You pull back and say quietly, “Can't wait for the date.”

His eyes widen, then fill with something warm surprised, happy, maybe even a little nervous.

“You… really?” he asks, softer than you’ve ever heard him.

You nod “Don’t make me regret it.”

His laugh is breathless “Never.”

You smile, heart pounding, but you don’t let it show. He doesn’t need to know yet how much this means.

A few nights later for your first date Sanji goes all out, but not in a flashy way. It’s thoughtful. Intimate.

He sets up dinner on the ship’s deck. Small candles, soft music from a den den mushi radio, and a view of the sea under stars. He cooks something warm and comforting, not fancy, just full of love.

You talk for hours. About silly things, quiet things, your pasts and dreams. It’s easy. He listens more than he speaks, and when he does talk, it’s gentle.

No cheesy lines. Just Sanji. Real and warm.

After dessert, he walks you home in silence. Not awkward, just peaceful. The kind of quiet where you don’t need to fill space.

At your door, he looks at you with hopeful eyes but doesn’t move in. He’s waiting for your choice.

So you step closer.

You kiss him.

Soft. Sure. Just once. But it’s full of everything you’ve been holding back.

When you pull away, he blinks like he’s just been hit by a wave.

You smirk “You were taking too long.”

He laughs, dizzy and full of stars.

And for the first time in a long while, so do you.

── .✦ Ace:

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Angst, Humor, Emotional Reveal, Mutual Feelings Hidden, Teasing to Serious, Marine Conflict

The sun burns above you. You’re lying on the deck of your ship, one leg over the other, a half-empty bottle between your fingers. Ace is beside you shirtless, grinning, sweat on his brow, flame flickering off his fingers like it’s breathing with him.

“You always steal my rum.” you say, kicking him lightly.

“You always keep it warm,” he shoots back “I’m doing you a favor.”

You roll your eyes “Your idea of favors sucks.”

He leans closer, his voice lazy and smug “You didn’t say that last night.”

You groan “Get a new line, fire boy.”

He grins wider. You punch his arm. He fake-winces, like it hurt. It didn’t.

That’s the two of you: teasing, biting, half-fighting, half-kissing. No promises. No labels. Just good fun and bad timing.

Pirate life is rough. You take what joy you can.

“Hey,” you say after a long silence, watching the sky “Wanna hear a secret?”

Ace smirks, eyes still closed “If it’s about that thing you did in the galley with the honey—”

“No, dumbass. A real secret.”

That makes him open his eyes. He turns to look at you “Alright. Hit me.”

You sit up. Serious now. The bottle rests on your knee.

“I have a son.”

Ace snorts “You what?”

You nod, eyes still on the horizon “Yeah. He’s five. His name’s Ren.”

He blinks. You go on before he can interrupt.

“I had him before all this, before the piracy, before you. I got caught in something messy with the Marines. To keep him safe, I left him with my parents. Changed my name. Ran.”

Ace stares.

You keep talking “I go see him when I can. Disguised. Just for a day or two. He thinks I’m some traveling doctor or something. He doesn’t know who I really am.”

You pause. Swallow.

“It’s hell, leaving every time. But I’d rather he grow up safe than have him hunted.”

Ace starts laughing.

You blink “What the hell?”

He’s full-on laughing “Holy shit, you got me! I thought you were serious. What is this, some new kink? Roleplay? Mommy pirate stuff?”

You just look at him.

Dead quiet.

No grin. No tease.

Ace’s smile dies instantly. The flame on his fingers goes out.

“…Wait,” he says “You’re not joking?”

You don’t say anything.

His expression changes fast… shocked, confused, then something close to guilt “You really…?”

You nod once “I’m not playing around.”

He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly tense “Shit.”

“Yeah,” you say, dry “That’s usually the first response.”

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again “Why are you telling me this now?”

You shrug “I don’t know. Maybe because you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a real connection in years. Or maybe I just got tired of lying all the time.”

He stares at you.

You look away “I didn’t expect you to laugh. That sucked.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“Forget it.”

“No,” he says quickly “I’m serious. That was a shitty reaction. I just… I didn’t think you were the kind of person to hide something that big.”

You exhale “Turns out, I’m full of surprises.”

The silence between you is heavy now. Not like before.

Then Ace says quietly, “What’s he like?”

You blink “Huh?”

“Your kid. Ren. What’s he like?”

You smile a little “Stubborn. Smart. Messy. Loves drawing fishes. Hates carrots. Thinks I have the coolest boots in the world.”

Ace nods, quiet. He looks down, then up at you again.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs “I’m sorry for laughing. And I’m… kinda honored you told me.”

You raise a brow “Didn’t peg you for the emotional type.”

He shrugs, eyes soft “Didn’t peg you for someone with a child.”

Touché.

Ace doesn’t talk much for the next few days.

No flirting. No teasing. Just quiet looks when he thinks you’re not watching.

You try to act normal with some old jokes, same smug grin as always, but you feel it too. Everything changed with that one secret. The space between you now holds more than just fun.

It holds truth. Real, heavy, warm truth.

You’re standing at the helm when he walks up beside you.

“I want to come.” he says.

You glance at him “Come where?”

“When you go see your son.”

Your hands tighten on the wheel “Ace—”

“I’ll stay out of sight. I swear. I just… want to see him. I want to understand what you gave up. What you’re protecting.”

You study him for a moment. His eyes don’t waver. There’s no joke. No smirk.

Just Ace. Real. Honest.

You nod.

Months later — The island is quiet. A small village with stone houses, chickens in the streets, a little bakery that still smells like your childhood.

You pull your hood low. Ace wears a cap, sunglasses... he looks ridiculous, but no one’s looking at him. Just another traveler.

Your parents’ house is at the end of the road. Garden full of wildflowers. Paint peeling on the fence.

Your son is playing outside.

He doesn’t see you at first. He’s chasing butterflies. Laughing. Barefoot.

Ace stops walking.

“That’s him?” he asks, voice rough.

You nod “Ren.”

Ace just stares. His hands slowly curl into fists.

You call out softly, “Ren?”

The boy turns. His face lights up.

He runs to you screaming. You drop to your knees and catch him in your arms. He’s warm. Real. Solid.

Ace looks away.

Inside, your parents keep things short. They know who Ace is. You warned them. They’re not happy, but they trust you.

You all sit outside. Ren sits on Ace’s lap by accident. You try to grab him, but Ace just holds him steady.

“It’s okay,” he says “He’s light.”

Ren shows him a toy ship made of sticks “I made this!”

Ace chuckles “Really? That’s better than some ships I’ve sailed on.”

You stare.

Ren grins proudly “My parent used to tell me stories. About pirates and fire powers. Did you know there’s a pirate who can set his fists on fire?”

Ace raises a brow “Sounds dangerous.”

Ren gasps “But so cool!”

You laugh softly. Ace sends you a small look. It’s gentle. A little sad.

Later, when Ren naps, you and Ace sit on the back porch.

“He’s amazing.” Ace says.

“I know.”

“You’re amazing,” he adds “You left this. For his safety.”

You stare at the grass “I think about quitting all the time. Just staying here. Being at his side full time. But… the world’s not kind. And if they find me—”

“I get it,” he cuts in “You’re doing what you have to.”

You glance at him “I didn’t expect you to care so much.”

He shrugs “Neither did I.”

Then he adds, “But now I can’t stop.”

Your heart stumbles.

“He’s got your eyes.” Ace says softly.

“Don’t get attached.” you warn “This life… it’s dangerous.”

“So is mine,” he says “But that didn’t stop you from letting me in.”

You look at him. Really look.

“I didn’t plan for this...” you whisper.

“Neither did I.”

But here you both are.

And suddenly, fun doesn’t feel like the right word anymore.

The sound of quiet laughter wakes you.

You blink against the morning light, still groggy, still warm under the blanket. It takes a second to remember where you are... your parents’ house, back in your old bed.

And then you hear it again.

Ren’s voice.

And Ace’s.

You sit up, heart skipping.

You slip out of bed, still barefoot, and pad toward the living room. And there they are.

Ren sits cross-legged on the floor, his little wooden ship in one hand, while Ace sits across from him, mimicking an enemy pirate voice.

“Noooo! You got me again, Captain Ren! My ship is sinking!”

Ren giggles and throws a pillow at him “That’s what you get, bad guy!”

Ace dramatically falls back, hands in the air “Ughhh… defeated by the mightiest pirate on the seas…”

Your heart squeezes.

Ace looks so natural. Hair messy. Eyes full of warmth. Like he belongs here.

But then your parents come in.

They freeze when they see the scene.

Ace doesn’t notice at first, he’s laughing with Ren, his smile unguarded.

“Ren.” your mother says, sharply.

Your son turns.

“Come away from him,” your father says quickly, stepping forward “Now.”

Ace blinks, confused “I—”

“Ren,” your mother repeats “Come here.”

Ren looks at you, unsure.

You step in “What’s going on?”

Your father’s jaw tightens “We don’t want him near the child.”

You stare “Excuse me?”

“He’s a pirate,” your mother hisses “A famous one. Fire Fist. He’s dangerous.”

“He’s also sitting on the floor playing ships...” you snap.

Your parents say nothing.

“You trusted me enough to come here with him,” you continue, voice rising “Now you’re trying to pull Ren away like he’s some kind of monster?”

“We’re protecting our grandson.” your father says coldly.

“From what? A man who’s been nothing but kind to him?”

“You don’t know what kind of life he brings.”

“I do,” you shout “I live it too. If you forgot. And yes, it’s dangerous. Yes, it’s hard. But Ace has done nothing but respect my family, protect me, and treat Ren with more care than anyone ever has!”

They go silent.

You’re shaking now, fists clenched.

“And for your information, I love him.”

The words fall like a hammer in the room.

Ren blinks.

Your parents’ eyes widen.

Ace just stares at you.

You don’t move.

You didn’t mean to say it... not like this, not loud, not angry... but it’s out.

And real.

You look at Ace, heart thundering “I love you.”

A beat.

Then Ace stands slowly, eyes locked on yours. He walks to you, quiet. The room holds its breath.

He stops in front of you.

“I wasn’t sure if I should say it first,” he says, voice low “Didn’t want to scare you off. But you beat me to it.”

You blink.

“I love you too.” he says.

He reaches out, gentle, and takes your hand.

Your parents stay silent. Ren looks between the two of you, then claps once like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Can I have pancakes now?” he asks.

You and Ace laugh at the same time, breathless.

And just like that, the tension cracks.

── .✦ Nico Robin:

Tags: Established Relationship, Soft Confession, Emotional Intimacy, Bittersweet Past

It’s late.

Most of the crew has gone to bed, except you and Robin. You're both in the library room. She’s reading. You’re not. You're just holding the edge of a piece of paper... frayed, uneven, and pulsing with life.

A vivre card.

You don’t have to look at it to know it’s still there. Still pointing somewhere far away, where you can’t be.

Robin closes her book softly “Is that what’s been on your mind all day?”

You glance over.

Of course she noticed.

You nod “Yeah.”

She tilts her head slightly “Can I ask who it’s for?”

You hesitate.

You’ve never told her. Not because you didn’t trust her, but because it always felt like a story that belonged to a different version of you. The you from before the sea. Before the Straw Hats. Before her.

But she’s already part of everything now.

So you answer.

“My son.”

Robin says nothing but her gaze sharpens. Attentive. Careful.

“He’s with his other parent now,” you continue, voice quiet “I raised him alone before I joined the crew. He’s the one who said it was okay. Actually, we were always together, in another small crew. Then he wanted a different kind of life. One with… peace. So we contacted his other parent.”

Robin nods, slow “He sounds mature.”

“He was always like that. Smarter than me, I think.”

There’s a short silence.

You look at the vivre card “I haven’t seen him since I joined. We talk through letters, sometimes den den mushi. But I don’t know when I’ll be able to see him again.”

Robin’s eyes soften “Do the others know?”

You shake your head “No. Just you.”

She reaches out. Her fingers brush yours, just enough to touch the vivre card “Thank you for trusting me.”

You smile, small but real “I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want you to see me differently.”

Robin hums “I already see you. Clearly.”

You blink.

She looks at you steady and kind “You carry something heavy. And still laugh with the crew. Still help cook. Still stand beside me in battle. That’s not weakness.”

Your chest aches in the best way.

She pauses, then adds, “If one day… you want to try and see him again, I’d go with you.”

Your voice catches “Really?”

She nods “Of course. I’d like to meet him. He sounds like someone I’d admire.”

You look down at the vivre card.

Still warm. Still burning.

Maybe not as far away as it feels.

It’s just past dinner.

You’re with Robin as she asked you to stay close. A soft excuse about helping her with some documents. You're both sitting on the floor, back against the wall, a soft lamp between you.

You have the vivre card on the table. You don't always keep it out, but tonight you felt the need to hold it.

You glance at the Den Den Mushi nearby.

You hesitate.

Then pick it up and dial a number you’ve had memorized since your hands first held his.

The snail blinks sleepily… then perks up.

“Hello?”

Your chest tightens at the voice.

You smile “Hey, kiddo.”

A pause, then, “IT’S YOU!!”

You laugh, caught off guard by the pure excitement.

“Oh my god—FINALLY! You didn’t forget me, right? You didn’t sail into a storm and disappear forever, right?”

Robin lifts an amused brow, watching you with quiet interest.

“I didn’t forget you,” you say softly “You know that.”

“Just making sure. I’ve been drawing so many sea monsters lately you would not believe. I made a kraken with three hats.”

You laugh again, voice cracking slightly “Three hats? He must be important.”

“Very.” He pauses, then adds, “...I missed you.”

You shut your eyes “I missed you too.”

Robin looks away respectfully, but stays close.

Then, from the snail: “Hey, wait—who’s near you? Are you with someone?”

You glance at Robin, who blinks, caught.

“She’s... a friend.” you say carefully.

Robin speaks, her voice soft “I hope I’m more than just a friend.”

The Den Den Mushi mimics a shocked face.

“...OH MY GOD. IS THIS YOUR GIRLFRIEND??”

You bury your face in your hand.

Robin chuckles lightly, graceful even when embarrassed “Hello. I’m Robin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

There’s a long pause.

“...You sound really cool.”

Robin smiles “Thank you. So do you.”

“Wait—how much do you know about them? Like... do you know about the time they tried to cook without instructions and set the wall on fire?”

You groan “Don’t tell her that.”

“It was a microwave! The noodles caught on fire!”

Robin’s shoulders shake with laughter.

You shoot her a glare that holds no heat “I regret this entire call.”

“No you don’t.”

And he’s right. You don’t.

Not even a little.

Later, when the call ends, you sit in silence.

Robin’s hand reaches for yours “He’s amazing.”

You nod, voice soft “Yeah. He really is.”

She squeezes your hand gently “He has your spark. And your chaos.”

You smile through the ache in your chest “He’s better than I’ll ever be.”

Robin rests her head against your shoulder.

“You’ll see him again. When the time is right. And I'll be with you... if you want me.”

"Of course I do."

And somehow, with her beside you, that feels like a promise you can believe in.

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whisperedmeg · 2 days ago

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DARK MATTER ―.✦ s.r. soft animal series ∘ part xi

pairing: spencer reid x fem!nurse!reader

summary: spencer belongs to this history, she’s still finding her place — but love, like dark matter, doesn’t need to be seen to hold everything together.

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff | w/c: 3.3k

tags/warnings: post-prison spencer, reader meets more members of the BAU (past & present!), rossi doing rich old man shit, reader feels like an outsider looking in, big relationship milestone, suggestive makeout at the beginning and implied/fade to black intimacy at the end but nothing super explicit, still 18+ MDNI

a/n: this one has some fun guest appearances from our fave BAU team members 🥳 and something big happens towards the end hehehe. also icymi, I shared some headcanons about soft animal reader & spencer last week. part 12 (the penultimate chapter AHHH) is coming next week. im a lil scared to post that one ngl…prepare yourselves for angst in advance lol

series masterlist

The invitation arrived on a Monday, tucked inside a cream-colored envelope with the kind of dramatic embossing only someone like David Rossi would consider necessary. Both of our names graced the front and Spencer’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning when he opened it.

“‘You’re invited to a celebration of friendship, food, and fine wine at Chateau Rossi.’” He grinned as he read it, shaking his head. “He named his house. Of course he named his house.”

I laughed from the couch, legs tucked beneath me and a half-completed crossword puzzle in my lap. “What’s the party for?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Spencer said, turning the card over like it might reveal more secrets. “It’s not a birthday or an anniversary or a retirement or anything. I think he’s just bored and rich.”

“Sounds about right.”

Spencer looked at me with a kind of boyish hope, a spark I didn’t see often but always loved when it surfaced. “Rossi said a bunch of old team members are all coming into town for it. Morgan, Hotch, Blake... everyone. It’ll be amazing.”

Something fluttered in my chest — mostly joy, but tinged with a touch of nerves. I kept my tone light. “You sure I won’t be crashing a BAU greatest hits reunion?”

He crossed the room in two steps and stood in front of me, hands warm on my shoulders. “I want you there. That’s the whole point. And I’m sure everyone else will be bringing their partners, too.”

I looked at him for a long moment, my lips curling into a soft smile. “Then we’ll go.”

—

Five days later, I stood in front of the mirror with the front of my deep green midi dress clutched in place. Spencer stood behind me, eyes focused. His knuckles grazed my lower back, feather-light, teasing the sensitive skin along my spine before catching the zipper between his thumb and forefinger. He leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss between my shoulder blades, and my breath caught in my throat.

“You’re moving awfully slow for someone who’s supposed to be zipping me up,” I murmured, eyes half-closed as I watched his reflection through heavy lashes.

He raised his gaze to meet to mine in the mirror, dark and playful, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “I’m just admiring you. Thoroughly.”

Turning slowly in his arms with my dress only half-zipped, I slid my hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his crisp shirt. “Flattering me into social functions? That’s low, Dr. Reid.”

“Effective, though, right?” His voice was a husky murmur, his mouth hovering close enough to mine that I could taste the faint sweetness of his breath.

I answered by pulling him into a deep, slow kiss, one that unraveled my resolve with every brush of his lips, every gentle sweep of his tongue. Spencer’s hands tightened around my waist, fingers gripping me possessively as he pressed his hips into mine, drawing a soft gasp from my throat. My hands found their way beneath his jacket, gripping the smooth fabric of his shirt, tugging him even closer.

When we finally pulled apart, our breathing was uneven as I rested my forehead against his, our eyes closed as we steadied ourselves.

“We can’t. We’re already late,” I whispered softly.

He exhaled slowly, nodding with reluctant agreement as he reached around to pull my zipper up the rest of the way. “Then let’s go before we don’t.”

—

David Rossi’s mansion was every bit the chateau he claimed it to be — glowing lanterns in the trees, jazz filtering through the air, tables draped in white linens, fountains twinkling beside flower beds that probably each had their own landscaping teams. The whole thing looked like the opening scene of a very expensive movie.

Spencer held my hand tightly as we crossed the lawn.

“They’re all going to love you,” he said. “Just wait.”

He believed it. I tried to believe it too. The anxious knot in my stomach said otherwise, but I smiled and nodded. This meant something to him — returning to this circle, showing me off like a part of his present that could stand beside his past. I’d met some of them before, but never all at once — and never like this.

I wanted, desperately, to belong to all of it.

Garcia greeted me with a flourish and a kiss on both cheeks. “You made it! I was starting to worry you two were going to skip out and stay in bed all night.”

“Tempting,” Spencer murmured under his breath for only me to hear, squeezing my hand.

“Hi, Penelope,” I said, smiling. “This place is incredible.”

“Oh, Rossi doesn’t know how to do anything halfway,” she said, eyes twinkling as she began to pull me along with her. “Come on, there’s champagne and stuffed mushrooms and something with truffle oil I can’t pronounce.”

—

One of the former members of Spencer’s team, Alex Blake, approached me at the bar and introduced herself. “Spencer told me you’re a nurse at Millburn. That’s vital work — thank you for doing it. Correctional healthcare doesn’t get nearly the attention it deserves.”

I blinked at her, surprised and touched by the comment. “Thank you,” I said. “That… really means a lot.”

For the first hour, it was easy. We sipped champagne under the lights. Penelope made me laugh. Alex asked smart questions. Luke and Tara and Matt were nice, too. Spencer stayed close, his hand constantly brushing mine or curling lightly around my waist. He was so clearly happy to be here and to have me here with him that it made something in my chest ache in the best way.

But then the night deepened. Conversations shifted. Circles formed.

I watched Spencer drift naturally between pockets of conversation. He looked like a younger, happier version of the man I knew, catching up with Derek Morgan and Aaron Hotchner, laughing loudly at something Tara said, hugging Emily with a kind of familiarity that came from war zones and grief and saving lives together. He slid so easily into that past — like muscle memory, the kind built from years of trust and friendship. Still, it kind of sucked that I couldn’t totally slide in alongside him.

I didn’t mind — not at first. I picked at a small plate of food, wandered the edge of the garden, refilled my drink. But slowly, invisibly, the distance started to hum.

The first pang hit when someone I’d already met — an agent named Anderson — introduced himself again. A small thing. Forgivable. But it knocked me slightly off balance. I smiled through it. Laughed politely. Told myself it didn’t matter.

Then came the question: “So, how did you and Spencer meet?”

I answered carefully. “At Millburn. I’m a nurse in the infirmary there.”

The air shifted. A tight smile. A polite nod. And then the conversation wandered away without me. It wasn’t rude. It wasn’t intentional. But I still felt it like a bruise forming.

—

Candles flickered down the center of a long table set for twenty, silver gleaming beside fine china. Spencer sat across from me, deep in conversation with Luke and Hotch. I ended up beside JJ’s husband Will, who passed me a basket of bread and offered a sympathetic smile.

“You surviving?” he asked.

I gave him a wry look. “Trying to.”

He chuckled. “Took me years to get used to how tight this group is. Even now, I still mostly just nod and smile and try to act like all the inside jokes don’t go right over my head.”

I laughed softly. “Sounds like a solid strategy.”

“Seriously though, don’t worry too much about all of this. You’re doing great. Getting integrated with the BAU crew just takes some time.”

I nodded gratefully, feeling slightly less alone.

Across the table, conversation flowed around me, punctuated by laughter and anecdotes that stretched back years. Hotch shared updates about his son Jack’s travel soccer team. Derek proudly displayed photos of his little boy, Hank Spencer Morgan. Laughter broke out recalling a time Derek and Spencer got trapped in an elevator, anxiously calling out for Hotch as if he might magically appear to rescue them. There were more tales of prank wars and Halloween costumes and magic tricks in the bullpen.

Spencer’s laughter was bright, his eyes shining. I loved hearing the stories, loved watching him come alive in the telling of them, even the ones I’d heard before. I laughed along softly, but inside, I wondered if this part of him would always feel slightly out of my reach.

Spencer looked at me a few times. Smiled across the candles. But he didn’t see it. Not yet.

Later, while he talked with Emily and Tara about a recent case in Miami, I wandered back toward the garden. The string lights overhead seemed to blur slightly. I stood in the corner of the patio and tried to breathe.

Someone offered me dessert. I declined. Anderson brushed past me with a joke I didn’t quite catch. I nodded along, still smiling. But my chest was tight.

And then I slipped away.

Upstairs, I found a quiet balcony and stepped out into the night.

The air was cool, the stars clear and sharp above me. I wrapped my arms around myself and breathed.

I heard him before I saw him — the soft creak of the door, the familiar cadence of his footsteps. I leaned into the railing, hoping the dark might soften the vulnerability on my face.

He didn’t speak right away. Just stood beside me, close but not crowding.

“Hey,” he said finally, voice low.

“Hey,” I echoed, trying to smile. It didn’t quite reach my eyes. I turned my gaze back up to the stars.

“You okay?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. Just needed a minute.”

He didn’t push. Just let the quiet stretch, open and kind.

Eventually, I exhaled. “Rossi sure knows how to throw a party. And I’ve really loved meeting everyone tonight,” I said with a small smile. “I still need to corner Derek before we leave and get some more dirt on you.”

He chuckled at that, but then the rest of the words tumbled out of me before I could stop them.

“They all know a version of you I’ll never get to meet,” I said quietly. “And I don’t think anyone meant to make me feel out of place, but I still did. Like I was standing just outside the frame all night.”

Spencer’s expression softened, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve seen it sooner.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. No one did. I just…” My voice dipped. “I wish I could belong to this part of your life, too.”

“You do,” he said, without hesitation. “You already do.” He looked down for a moment, then back up at the sky. “Most of the people here tonight have seen the worst of me,” he said slowly. “Watched me fall apart more than once and helped put me back together. But you… you met me in a totally different kind of wreckage. And you chose to stay anyway.”

He turned to face me more fully.

“I want them to know you — not just meet you, but know you. Because you’re the person who pulled me out of something I didn’t think I’d survive. I didn’t even know there was a future out there left for me to want until you reminded me what it felt like to hope.”

My breath caught.

He reached for my hand, his voice low. “I know this part of my world feels like a closed room sometimes. But it’s not. You’re already inside it — just by being here. I’ll keep making space, because I want you in all of it — the past, the present, whatever’s next. And if it ever feels like you’re outside the door, I’ll open it. Every single time.”

The words settled in my chest like warmth after a long cold, and I leaned into him. We stood in comfortable silence, looking up at the stars.

“You ever think about how much of the universe is invisible?” I asked softly after a minute.

“Only all the time,” he chuckled. “Dark matter holds galaxies together. You don’t always see it, but it’s there. Holding the shape. The structure.”

He paused for a moment before his gaze shifted from the sky down to me, eyes full of something I could barely hold. “You’re that for me. You hold me together. You’re part of this, even when it doesn’t feel like it. You’ve changed my center of gravity. And they’ll see that, too.”

He threaded his fingers through mine, and I felt my breath steady at last.

—

Two weeks later, I walked into Spencer’s apartment and took stock of what had changed.

One of Rossi’s books sat on my side of the bed, the page I’d left off on marked with a receipt from our favorite diner — the one with the pie. A framed photo of me and Spencer, mid-laugh on Rossi’s lawn at the party, had taken up residence on his bookshelf, perched next to a faded copy of Cosmos by Carl Sagan. My favorite mug now lived in his cabinet, nestled between his like it had always belonged there.

And on the couch, quietly waiting, was a soft leather-bound journal.

Spencer picked it up and handed it to me once I sat down. “I’ve been, um, writing things down,” he said, voice low. “Things I want you to know. Memories. Anecdotes. Cases that still live somewhere in my head. I realized I never told you half of what made me, me, but I want to start.”

I opened it slowly, fingers tracing his familiar handwriting across the pages. Scribbled thoughts. Stories. Annotations in the margins. I felt the weight of it hit me all at once — not just the pages or the words, but what it meant. That he trusted me with this. That he wanted me to know him, fully and without omission.

I glanced up at him, eyes warm. “You really want me to know it all?”

“All of it.” He leaned in gently, thumb brushing my cheek. “If it ever felt like I was closing doors, this is me opening them. You’re not on the outside.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and leaned in to kiss him softly. “Thank you,” I whispered against his lips.

We curled up together, my head resting gently on his shoulder, the journal open on my lap. Through the window, stars shimmered in the quiet, scattered like secrets we hadn’t told yet. The room felt hushed in that way only night can manage — like the whole world had paused just long enough to let us breathe.

—

After an hour or so of flipping through the journal, Spencer shifted beside me, almost imperceptibly — just enough that I could feel the nerves radiating off of him.

“Turn to the last page,” he said softly, his voice low and careful.

I glanced up at him. His expression was unreadable — serious, but not heavy. Just… open. So I turned the page with one hand, the other laced with his.

There, in his messy, scribbled handwriting, were seven words:

Move in with me. Please say yes.

My breath caught in my throat.

He didn’t speak, just waited, his hand still warm beneath mine. I stared at the words and felt the weight of them settle in my chest.

We weren’t kids. This wasn’t a fantasy, or a giddy impulse, or something he hadn’t thought through. We were two people who had seen some of the worst in life and in each other. We knew what hurt looked like, and we knew what it meant to carry grief and still try to build something anyway.

My mind immediately spun into motion — not just the logistics, but the stakes. What if we made a home together and something still cracked open? What if the walls closed in and started to suffocate us? What if the things he loved about me eventually hardened into something he didn’t recognize?

What if we messed it all up?

I looked at him.

“I know it’s a big step,” he said quietly, as if he could hear every thought I hadn’t spoken. “And I don’t want us to rush anything. But I want a life with you. This — us — is the only thing that’s ever made complete sense to me, even when everything else didn’t. And I’d rather do all the hard parts with you than the easy ones without you.” He studied me a moment. “Plus, I mean, we already spend almost every night together. Your lease is up in a couple months. Half of your clothes live in my drawers. It’s practical, really,” he rambled in typical Spencer fashion. Then he paused, took a breath, and said, “But… that’s not why I’m suggesting it. I’d want this even if it made no practical sense at all.”

I took a breath, and then another, trying to quiet the pulse in my ears. Then I brushed my fingertips against the page, tracing the words he’d written for me with so much hope for the future. I let myself feel that same hope, too.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Yes. Let’s do it.”

His breath stuttered like he hadn’t let himself dream of that answer. And then he smiled, wide and a little dazed.

I leaned in and kissed him, gentle and sure.

It wasn’t a fairytale, and I didn’t need it to be. It was real. Big and messy and soft.

“You know you’re going to have to clear out some shelf space, right? I have at least three milk crates-worth of books, and I refuse to make sacrifices,” I teased.

He laughed, eyes crinkling. “I’ll make room. I’ll even ask Luke for help putting up more shelves if we need them.”

I grinned. “We’re going to have, like, furniture store arguments, aren’t we?”

“Probably,” he said. “But in a deeply intellectual way. Like over the ethics of couches.”

I giggled. “And we’ll decorate for every holiday and accidentally buy the same coffee beans twice and probably fight over whose turn it is to clean the shower.”

“And I’ll lose, every time,” he said, entirely unbothered. “But you’ll still let me sleep in your arms.”

“Yeah,” I replied simply, because I suddenly didn’t know how to say all the things I felt — about home, and us, and what it meant to be chosen like this.

He leaned over and pressed his forehead to mine. “I want all of it,” he murmured. “The books and the arguments and the coffee and the shower. A full life. With you.”

—

Later, as we lay in bed, the journal still open between us and the stars humming quietly beyond the window, I turned toward him, heart full and aching in the best way.

“Spencer,” I whispered, not really sure what I intended to say next. I think I just needed the shape of his name in my mouth.

He looked over at me — soft, steady — and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Come here,” he murmured, voice low.

I did.

The journal slid to the floor with a quiet thud as I moved to straddle his lap, his hands finding my waist as mine curled against the back of his neck. There was no rush, no urgency — just the slow, reverent unfolding of clothes coming off, of skin against skin. Kisses that felt like punctuation. Touches like promises.

And as we moved together — quiet and close and sure — I felt it again: that invisible tether between us. The way he anchored me without even trying. A kind of gravity you don’t always see, but feel all the same.

Like dark matter. Invisible but everywhere, holding us quietly in place.

ᝰ.ᐟ

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weekly-eons · 2 days ago

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As we get into the last week of June, I have closed the ask box for asks and will draw the final Pride designs for this year round of pride asks! Thank you all for suggesting flags! I had a ton of fun, even if it overwhelmed me like always haha

First Year that I did this on 2 blogs, and it sure was hectic, but I managed somehow.

I hope my goal of drawing silly designs made you smile or even go, 'oh I didn't know about this flag!' Makes me happy people find a flag they vibe with ^^

I will upload all the designs on my Kofi on July 1st, so look forward to that! (I will post the link again like last year)

Thank you all for reading, sending asks and just supporting me with nice asks and words in rb and tags!

#mod talks

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woundedsoul12 · 23 hours ago

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Thursday Bangers 9/26

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

It's Rook Appreciation Week yall. So go to @rookappreciationweek and check out the prompts and play. I am a little behind but.... here's day 4! Let's go to the Rivaini Coast to see how Kenn Ingellvar and Taash are doing with these lyrics

It's not a walk in the park to love each other But when our fingers interlock Can't deny, can't deny you're worth it - Still Into You by Paramore

No pressure tagging @himluv @thedissonantverses @mythals-whore @serensama @whispersleo @tarasmom @hedwigoprah @becausedragonage @kindlyfeline @davrinsleftpectoral @fenrelmercar @plasticfreckles @kai-dimir @teamtakagi @a-mumbling-nerd @fiberpunk027 @larknnightingale @jenn2d2 @hyperions-light @tkwritesdumbassassins @feelslikepants @trash-nerd @cute-ellyna @brennacedria @lottiesnotebook @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @operative-arrow @librivore42 @obsessed-with-book-boyfriends @fireheartedpup @mikylechase @bonesandivy @vime5 @notyourmamasdeerbat @griffongrey @master-of-the-elements @chaoslifeforme @carrieing0n @serstolas @beachhotdog @nirikeehan @basedonconjecture @bygonesigh @redheadsramblings @aetherflowers @in-the-drowning-deep @bonesandivy

And if you are reading this...

You

“I once heard that all tears are carried to the sea,” Kenn begins as he steps forward. His hand hanging in the air as he fights for words. Giving comfort to the grieving has never been his strong suit. A faltering his father Vorgoth often chided him for.

But this is Taash. His love. The very breath in his lungs and beat of his heart. Standing on the sands as purple colors the falling sun. Sobbing for their mother, for a future lost to them. And a past now tinged with sorrow.

“Really?” they ask as his words break through their heartache. Looking up as their eyes meet his and he tentatively steps forward. Now is his chance, and for his kadan he will not fail.

“Yep. Why I always wanted to see the ocean. I was so excited when we got to come to Rivain.” He has their attention now. Their cheeks are still stained and eyes still swollen, but they don't flinch when his fingers entwine with theirs and he gently smiles. “So imagine my surprise when I found you instead. And suddenly the waves didn't seem so important.”

They roll their eyes at him as they look out to the water. Staring off for only a moment before they hum with quiet thought. “Of course that's the death mage's reason for wanting to see all this.”

“Taash!” he exclaims as he pulls back and playfully pushes their shoulder. “I was trying to be serious this time!”

“I know,” they reply as their hand finds his once more before pressing it to their chest. “You've been really understanding through all this. So I guess I'm trying to say thanks. For being here.”

“Hey,” he says as he reaches up to touch their cheek. “You've been here for me as well. That's what people do. Love's not easy, but it's worth it. And as long as we stick together, we can get through anything.”

“Maybe,” they reply in that deadpan way. Most people would find that response annoying, but Kenn has come to adore their mannerisms over the last few months.

“Hey no maybe,” he gently chides as he leans up to hover his lips just outside of their reach. “It's the truth.”

“Like all tears being carried to the sea?” they challenge as the corner of their mouth twitches up in a grin. Falling back into their old ways under the comfort of his love.

“Exactly like that,” he replies as his lips find theirs. And as they kiss on the Rivaini sands, they are reassured that even on their worst nights, Rook will still always be there for them.

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #da: the veilguard #da4 #dragon age rook #datv rook #rook x taash #taash x rook #dragon age taash #taash the dragon hunter #taash #rook ingellvar #mourn watch rook #thursday bangers #rookweek25

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jukkaricity · 22 hours ago

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Thursday with friends/ A word banger(?)

Who would have thought that one week of company workshop will get me off the writing flow so hard? Everyone writes a banger after banger for the tag games and amazing fics left and right and I can't even manage to keep up with the reading. ;_; I will now go and lie face down in the shame corner.

Thank you @hedwigoprah for this game and thank you to @serensama for the tag for both "A word with Friends"

Balter

to dance or tread clumsily, without particular grace or skill

Rules: Use the challenge word to write a sentence or scene and then tag a few friends.

and the Thursday Banger:

All my friends we're glorious | Tonight we are victorious — Victorious by Panic! At The Disco

I had some fun writing about Hugo meeting Viago for the first time recently, so we're going to stick with the disaster Crow for this one. The legend says that he remembers the night he became a full Crow.

🗡️🐦‍⬛🗡️🐦‍⬛🗡️🐦‍⬛🗡️🐦‍⬛🗡️

The seaside tavern spun around as Hugo drank another shot of liquor–too expensive for his tastes–both smooth and burning at the back of his throat. Best thing about it was that it was paid for by someone else. Probably. Hopefully.

The lively music played in the background without faltering, a band rewarded generously by mostly Crow patrons for their efforts. A couple of his recently fledged friends were all but baltering at the hastily arranged dance floor. Poise and grace had no use tonight.

Hugo himself barely escaped the tangle of bodies just a couple moments earlier.

Somehow the trip to the bar was harder than the contract he’d just completed. The floor wobbled as if he were on a ship during bad weather and he barely avoided falling face first when he tripped on Matteo sprawled between the tables. The night's first victim. When he finally reached the counter he had to hold on to keep steady.

Viago would probably scold him for lack of grace–the number of drinks he had already did not constitute any type of excuse. A Crow has to maintain a perfect image at any time.

Truth be told, Hugo was not entirely sure how, and when exactly, they arrived on the luxurious side of Salle. This was never part of the plan. There was in fact no plan whatsoever. He was so fixated on completing the job that he didn’t even think about the after. Viago always said to always think about the after even if one wasn’t sure there was one to look forward to.

Hugo was admittedly really bad at that. The “thinking about the consequences” thing. He could think fast on his feet and turn the situation around in the here and now, but predicting outcomes and planning for them was still beyond his skill set. Which was probably why he continued to play chess with Viago over his snake-feeding duties. And continued to lose every time.

This entire night seemed like all these problems carefully distilled into a personalized anti-Hugo poison.

One moment he heard Viago say “Consider the contract fulfilled” with his usual stoic look firmly planted on his face, and things exploded into chaos from there. In no time he was surrounded by other Crows chanting his name as he chugged beer from the tallest mug he had seen in his life in the bar below the Art Gallery that was one of the many fronts of House de Riva.

Then he blinked and they were racing down the alleys of Salle yelling obscenities, getting chased by a half undressed City Guard, who was learning a painful lesson about running with breeches low around his ankles. Then the Docks-a scent of herbs he’d never smelled before-and then they were here.

Close by the beach, pristine white walls and blue roofs. Clean floors, comfy chair cushions and barkeep who didn’t look like he regretted every single life choice he’d ever made. Not a type of establishment a poor fledgling could even consider visiting. But a new Crow? For him the world–and bars–were opened.

Vero slipped past him with a wink, her delicate rosy perfume overwhelming his senses. She ordered a line of shots and looked at him from under her eyelashes, her smirk for once without a sharp edge. Maybe they kissed, or maybe they still could.

It was a bad idea. Her lips were like the sweetest poison, but he’s got experience with drinking those already. He leaned in, but before anything could happen a gaggle of Crows crashed into them squabbling and fighting to grab the nearest glass. There was no time for romance.

Tonight he was celebrating.

Better yet, tonight he was being celebrated, his drinks were paid for and he had more Andris in his pocket than he knew what to do with. Which admittedly was a low bar to clear, but the whiff of wealth and overindulgence was overwhelming regardless.

Had he been less drunk he’d probably worry about the consequences, but the milk–or more appropriately beer–was already spilled and there was no going back.

Tonight was not the night to overthink.

Tonight his first proper contract has been approved by Fifth Talon Viago de Riva and so, Hugo was a fully fledged Crow. A reason to throw all reservations away–for a night at least–if he ever had one.

Gentle tags for: @davrinsleftpectoral, @blackwall-my-tiny-husband, @the-font-bandit, @jenn2d2, @chaosherald, @woundedsoul12 and @serstolas, no pressure <3

#dragon age veilguard #datv #rook de riva #antivan crows #viago de riva #oc: hugo de riva #thursday bangers #a word with friends #jukkari writes: da stuff

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camficdiner · 2 days ago

Note

hiii, could i have 1.1 2.12 3.4 (corruption) 4.2 plss !!

☕️Cam’s fic diner — order 023

💌 Thank you!

To the lovely fan who said: “Corruption kink please!! He’s obsessed, not the other way around 🫶” — you got it. Hope this gets you looking at your favorite player a little differently tonight. 🍒

Tips keep the diner open: ko-fi.com/camficdiner

Enjoy your meal love, hope you’re as delulu as me

-your favorite server

💬 "Little Fangirl"

✨details and prompts

• character: Jack Hughes

• prompt: you’re a fan, but he’s obsessed

• word count: ~1.5k

• type: smut, corruption kink, praise kink, mirror play, dom!Jack, possessive obsession, soft aftercare

✨🍒🛼🧁

You’re not a fanpage girl. Not really.

You don’t post thirst edits. You don’t make memes. You don’t even tag your main.

But you write.

You write so much.

You created a blog just for it. A separate Tumblr, tucked away under a fake name, where you post stories about Jack Hughes doing unspeakable things.

Sometimes soft. Mostly not.

The one that exploded? A fic where he bends a shy little reader over in front of a mirror and corrupts her until she cries.

You tagged it #jack hughes smut, #mirror kink, and #corruption kink

You thought you were safe.

You were wrong.

He finds it.

You don’t know how.

All you know is that one night, your inbox lights up with a message from an account that’s never interacted with you before:

“mirror fic. 4.2k. too short.”

You freeze.

“hot, though.”

“you got the crying part right.”

“but i don’t talk like that.”

Your heart slams into your ribs. Your hands go clammy.

You stare at the screen for ten minutes before replying:

“Do I know you?”

The next message is audio.

You hit play.

“You should. You’ve written about my cock enough.”

Jack.

Fucking.

Hughes.

You delete the blog.

You deactivate the burner.

You take a cold shower and scream into a pillow and try to pretend none of it happened.

And then, a few days later, he messages you again. From a real account this time.

Just three words:

“Come over. Now.”

And for some goddamn reason, you go.

-----

The hotel room is nice. Too nice. Quiet, except for the pounding of your pulse in your ears. The air smells like expensive cologne and new linens. The mirror — the mirror — is already pulled out from the wall and propped by the bed.

He planned this.

Jack closes the door behind you. You don’t move.

He doesn’t smile. Just stalks forward, one hand in his pocket.

“You look exactly how I pictured you,” he says. “All flushed and innocent and trembling.”

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

He tilts his head. “What? No bratty little narrator lines for me?”

“Jack—”

“I read everything,” he cuts in. “Every. Fucking. Word.”

He steps closer.

“You’ve never been touched, have you?”

You shake your head.

His voice drops: “But you wrote like you had.”

He exhales. His eyes rake over your body, slow and hungry.

“You wrote that I’d be the first. You made that up.”

A beat. You whisper, “No.”

His jaw clenches. “No?”

“I meant it,” you say, barely audible. “It was always… it was always you.”

Jack laughs once. It’s dark.

“Fuck.”

—

The first kiss steals your breath.

He doesn’t ease in. He devours — hands on your waist, mouth firm and claiming. You whimper. He presses you against the door, tongue sliding against yours, fingers gripping like he wants to leave bruises.

“You think writing about me means you know what this feels like?” he pants. “Let’s find out.”

—

He undresses you slowly. Too slowly. Fingertips brush over your stomach, your thighs, the back of your neck. You shiver with every movement.

When he pulls the shirt over your head, he doesn’t drop it. He holds it to his face, breathes in.

“This what you were wearing when you wrote it?” he asks. “When you came up with that little scene?”

You nod.

“Jesus,” he mutters, and throws it aside.

—

He gets you in front of the mirror.

Kneels behind you. Palms your thighs, spreads your legs with his hands.

“Look,” he whispers.

You do.

You see your reflection — bare, blushing, uncertain.

“You wrote about this. Remember?”

You nod.

“Say it.”

You whisper, “I wrote about you touching me in front of a mirror.”

“Exactly.” He strokes between your legs, slow and firm. “Let’s make sure you got the pacing right.”

He circles your clit through your panties. You gasp.

“You write like you know what this feels like.”

“I—I don’t.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I can tell.”

He pulls the fabric aside. Dips a finger inside.

You moan. Cling to his wrist.

“Shh,” he says. “Just getting started.”

—

He lays you on the bed after he’s already made you come twice on his fingers — once with his mouth on your neck, once with his mouth between your legs.

You’re already wrecked. Tears in your lashes. Legs trembling.

Jack smiles down at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Still with me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good.” He kisses you. “Because now I’m gonna give you what you really wrote about.”

He rolls a condom on. Lines himself up. Pauses.

“You ready?”

You nod. And nod. And nod.

“Tell me,” he says. “Say you want it.”

“I want it,” you gasp. “I want you, Jack.”

His eyes flutter closed. “Fuck.”

He presses in. Slow. Deep.

Your back arches. Your hands find his shoulders. You let out a sob — overwhelmed and split open and full.

“Shh, baby,” he whispers. “I know. It’s a lot.”

He stills halfway in. Brushes your hair back.

“You’re doing so good,” he says. “Such a good girl for me.”

He kisses you — sweet, soft.

“Look at us,” he whispers. “You and me. Just like you wrote it.”

You open your eyes.

The mirror’s right there.

You see the stretch. His cock inside you. Your body, trembling and undone beneath him. His fingers laced with yours.

“Oh my god—”

“Yeah,” he grits. “Feels real now, doesn’t it?”

—

He starts to move.

Slow at first. Careful. Letting you adjust.

Then faster. Harder.

He grabs your chin, makes you look at the mirror.

“Watch it.”

“Jack—”

“Watch me ruin you.”

—

The filth spills from his lips in rhythm with each thrust:

“This is what you wanted.”

“You’re mine now.”

“Gonna write about this later?”

“Gonna write about how I made you come screaming my name?”

Your orgasm builds again — faster this time. More intense.

He sees it. Feels it.

“Touch yourself,” he growls. “Show me what a good little writer you are.”

You do. And when you fall apart beneath him, he fucks you through it — praises you through it — holds you through it.

“You’re perfect,” he pants. “So fucking perfect.”

—

When it’s over, he pulls you into his chest, kisses your temple, and wraps the blanket around your bodies.

You’re quiet. Shaky.

He brushes your cheek.

“You okay?” he whispers.

You nod.

Jack smiles.

Then, casually: “Post the fic again.”

You blink. “What?”

He nuzzles into your neck.

“Unhide it. Add a note.”

You swallow. “What kind of note?”

His grin is wicked.

“Say the real thing was better.”

#camficdiner #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes smut #jh86 #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jh86 imagine #jh86 x reader

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ensembleetiquette · 21 hours ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for tagging me @runninonemptyy and @takeyourpillsbitchh!

Posting a little snipping of my fic, Shut Up and Drive, because the smut is about to come in hot. I had to split my next chapter into 2 because it was getting too lengthy. 👀

~~~

His phone buzzed yet again. Ian sighed and picked it up, surprised when the preview screen indicated that he had two new messages from Mickey.

He swiped up, unlocking his phone and nearly threw the device across the living room.

The first message was innocent enough.

Mickey (6:12 PM): Thinking about you.

But the second message….the second message was downright obscene.

The second message was a very real dick pic of a very, very hard Mickey Milkovich. The photo lit up Ian’s screen, depicting a rather close up image of Mickey’s length - hard, thick, and leaking. His hand gripped the base. It was bold. Confident. Utterly shameless.

Ian felt his own cock twitching in his pants.

What the fuck could he even say to that? He couldn’t remain silent and allow Mickey to think he didn’t like what he saw. But he couldn’t just whip his cock out and return the favor…could he?

No. That would be too forward.

Not any more forward than Mickey whipping his cock out in the first place, he thought.

Ian drank the picture in. Mickey was shorter than Ian’s 9 inches, but he was thick and absolutely delicious.

Ian knew from experience. He adjusted his hardening cock in his sweatpants. As he considered his options for reply, another text message appeared underneath the photo.

Mickey (6:17 PM): Like what you see, Red?

And fuck. Mickey wasn’t just giving him something to look at while he jerked off. No, he was practically baiting Ian.

~~~

Read the fic here! I’m updating between 2-3 times weekly. :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66656332/chapters/171963334

#gallavich #gallavich fanfic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ensemble etiquette #ensembleetiquette #shut up and drive #wip wednesday

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lucky-penne · 1 day ago

Text

Haven't touched this story since the last time I posted about the WIP 💀 Just wrote this section up today. Still can't make any promises I'll ever actually finish this or not. Also surprisingly difficult to write in a shorter, straightforward way while not making it boring and awkward.

Don't like, don't read. Please read the tags 🙏

Her grief was cut short as the sound of footsteps approached. She quickly braces herself. Preparing for any possibility, even to her last breath. The door creaks open. The first thing that hit her was the scent (a mixture of pine with the putrid stench of him) before his voice. Both she was all too familiar with now.

“Did our cherry blossom have a nice nap?”

The voice was smug and reeked of condescension. The figure across the room from her was shrouded in shadow with only his eyes noticeable–emitting a green glow.

The anger within her was brewing. She growls at the demon as a warning. She did not want him near her.

He simply laughs. Not taking her attempt at intimidation seriously.

“Well, it seems like someone isn't all too happy to see me. Rather rude don't you think?” He steps closer to her while she tries to recoil away against the wall, glaring and growling all the while. “We could've simply ripped you apart, staked your pieces all over the place, and let the sun take care of the rest.”

He stops and bends down on one knee to her level. His form is no longer hidden by complete shadow. His eyes pierced into hers–the kanji etched in them prominent. Hers stabs right back.

“A little traitor like you would've deserved it.” The grin on his face slowly fades. “Not to mention how much you burned us with that nasty fire of yours…” He hisses lightly.

“But—” He pauses dramatically. The grin returns.

“We decided to be merciful and let you live. Let you serve a more…useful purpose to us. To make up for all the trouble you caused us. Only fair isn't it, little blossom?” He sweetly mocks as he pats her head.

She stiffens. Body tensing with rage. Snarls muffled by the muzzle.

Only her brother–

Her family–

–Is allowed to touch her like that.

She lunges forward. Tries to claw and kick him away, but the cuffs and chains held her back with a snap.

Not a single flinch from him. He just wickedly smiles and giggles at her plight. She continues to struggle against the restraints. Her wrists and ankles start to ache in pain. Her breath being choked out by the collar.

“Ah there's that fiery temper I like~” He jeers.

“Would’ve been a shame to have you broken in so soon.”

She pushes herself one last time. Determined to hurt him in any way. Hands shaking and straining against the cuffs.

Then she stops.

Her form slacks to the ground, reluctantly giving up. She doesn't look away from her lap. Not wanting to see any more of his smug grins.

A hand reaches out before she could move away. Fingers harshly grip her face, forcibly tilting her chin up to meet his gaze once more.

“Have to say you're pretty cute in this form too~” he teases. She jolts when she feels another hand upon her–this time on her hip. It slowly and delicately caresses the curve. Despite the gentleness, she feels on edge.

He takes a moment to look at her. Really look at her. The way he scans her face and body makes her feel…uncomfortable. She doesn't understand why.

_____________________________________________

Really rough, wonky sketch I did way back in April. Did it rather quickly too with no refs which is why anatomy and proportions are wack. Don't know if I'll actually do a full piece or not.

#demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #karaku x nezuko #nezuko kamado #karaku x nezuko kamado #karaku #hantengu clones x nezuko #pet nezuko au #my art #my writing #wip #art wip #writing wip

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peachhcs · 2 days ago

Text

a perfect birthday

figure skater x macklin celebrini au (blaire + mack)

summary: macklin made sure to return the favor and gave blaire the best 19th birthday she could've asked for

words: 3k

author's note: y'all i'm so bad i said i was going to post this yesterday and then i never did. here's mack taking blaire around for her birthday and surprising her with little gifts throughout the day :) can be read as a part 2 to the social media fic or just a stand alone (longest fic in this au??)

au masterlist | part one

the day started similarly to how mack's birthday began. blaire woke up to a hundred texts from mack and friends wishing her a happy birthday. she smiled brightly, quickly responding to everyone before rushing out of bed to get ready. it was her idea for her and mack to go golfing bright and early as hard as it was to believe. blaire never minded watching her boyfriend hit a little ball around a course for two hours because that just meant she got to spend more time with him. plus, what else was she going to do on her birthday? mack promised a full day of fun, so she excited to see what he came up with.

after braiding her hair back, the dirty blonde packed her small bag with snacks, water, and a few different sharpies where she would sit and decorate mack's golf balls for him so he had something pretty to look at. the boy pulled up to her apartment promptly at 8 knowing getting there early meant they'd beat the rush later in the day. blaire ran down the steps, emerging from the front doors with a big smile on her face when she saw the boy already waiting against his car for her.

"happy birthday, love," macklin exclaimed while lifting her into his arms for a hug. the girl was grinning from ear to ear, "thank you! i can't believe we only have one more year left of being a teenager now," blaire said, pinching his cheeks when he set her down. his face reddened a bit, but he didn't pull away from her.

"how do you feel? older? wiser?"

"i guess so. i hope you brought a lot of golf balls because i brought a lot of sharpies," blaire giggled as she climbed into the car and mack met her on the other side.

"i have a bag full, i'll let you take them when we get there. first though, i stopped and got you your coffee and a birthday donut. boston cream," the boy revealed the hidden dunkin bag and blaire's eyes widened.

"you remembered! thank you," she happily took them and made sure to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

"of course i did. one of many birthday treats."

blaire began munching on the donut while mack got them back onto the road. she had never been more content before, sitting in her pro hockey player boyfriend’s car with a donut and coffee that he knew so well he didn't even need to ask what her order was. how much better could it get? not to mention, the said hockey player was her best friend.

the drive to the local course was short and sweet. macklin had a membership, so all he had to do was to flash his card at the window and they were in without any problems. the parking lot was fairly empty still, so that meant they'd get pretty far before more people began showing up for the day.

"the goal is 11," mack hummed, glancing at the clock on the dash.

"that would be a new record for you," the dirty blonde laughed. any other time she tagged along with mack and will or maybe a few other guys, it felt like they were there for a whole day. three hours would be impressive for him.

"well, it's just me and you watching, so i think i can move it along," the boy grinned. blaire leaned forward to peck his lips before jumping out of the car, but mack stopped her. "wait, i have a gift for you."

"for me? you spending the whole day with me is enough of a gift," she rolled her eyes, but was secretly eager when she watched him pull out a rather large box from under his seat. he was just full of surprises.

mack only shrugged as he passed the blue box over. the figure skater eyed him, but quickly tore into the bow and wasted no time pulling the top off. he must've gotten better at wrapping in their time apart. inside, blaire laid her eyes on a beautiful pair of brown leg warmers and a vest to wear over her compression shirts because she always told mack how convenient and more breathable they were.

"mack. you got all of this for me?" she was shocked and in awe.

the brunette blushed, "you kept telling me how you were dying to get a new one because your vest was so old. i saw those while also shopping for the vest and thought you would like them."

"i love them. thank you. you're so sweet," she jumped across the center to engulf him in her arms. macklin laughed, squeezing her tight before letting her go again. "i can't wait to wear this now. i love you," blaire kissed him again and he loved seeing that wide smile on her lips, especially when he was the cause.

coming second to physical touch, mack was definitely a gift giver. he loved surprising blaire with little things whenever he saw her, so he was glad she liked the gifts he picked out. he couldn't wait to give her more a little later because now, it was time to golf and if mack wanted to be done by 11, he needed to start now.

luckily, it wasn't too hot out, so the couple enjoyed the drive over the greens. blaire had her usual spot in the passenger side where she had a bagful of mack's golf balls to draw on. she was becoming quite creative with the designs after getting inspiration on tiktok and pinterest. the brunette loved getting to look over and see her sitting all pretty in the cart with her tongue stuck out while focusing. this was his idea of a perfect life.

sometimes blaire would get out and hold the flag while mack putted into the hole. her little happy jumps anytime he did it one try always made him smile. he even started getting a kiss each time he putt the ball in one.

they were on the 15th hole when blaire got a text from carter. she smiled seeing the happy birthday text with a bunch of different emojis, quickly responding back.

carter

happy birthday loser!!! 🤪🥳🤓😱🙉🎂🎈

blaire

thank you!!! miss u wish we were celebrating together

carter

thinking of u bc i got a boston cream donut this morning

blaire

me too!!! mack got me one :)

carter

hope ur day is awesome thanks for being a great big sister

his last message warmed her heart. it was hard to be away from him since this was the first birthday in awhile that she wasn't at home, but they both knew she was having a lot more fun in san jose.

blaire half expected a message from mason, but she also knew it was a long shot to think he would text her. she hadn't talked to him in almost two months. he was off somewhere in ireland and the last time she saw him once when the whole family dropped him off at the airport. it was sad, but a bit awkward since he hardly even gave a goodbye.

"hey, you okay?" mack walked over to the cart after hitting his ball. he noticed the long expression her face.

"hmm? i'm good," blaire snapped out her thoughts, but the rookie knew her better than that. he just gave her a look instead of saying anything, "carter texted me happy birthday and it made me smile, but then i was thinking about mason."

"do you think he'll text you?" mack wondered as he climbed back into the cart.

"probably not, but it's fine, i don't really care."

the boy put his hand on her thigh as a way to tell her he was there for her without saying it. sometimes the actions meant more than the words and blaire appreciated it. she squeezed his hand with her own and cuddled into him as they drove to where his ball landed.

"can i see your designs so far?" mack wondered before he got out again. blaire eagerly dug into the bag where every single one of them was decorated in a different design and color.

"this one's my favorite," she showed him the one where she drew the shark's mascot and then around the ball was teal and gray zig-zagged lines.

"woah, this is awesome. i may have to display this one," the brunette grinned.

"you can look through all of them. i think they came out really well," blaire giggled. the hockey player leaned forward to plant a big kiss to her lips. all she did was giggle and push him away so he could finish the hole.

by the time they were done, it was closer to 11:30. "hey, i was close," the boy argued.

"maybe it would've taken you less time if you didn't kiss me after every hole," blaire teased a bit and she liked how her boyfriend's face reddened a deep shade of crimson.

"hey. they're birthday kisses. here's one more for 19," and he leaned forward again. the figure skater was not complaining though. she loved having mack's lips on hers. they were always so soft and tasted like whatever soda he was drinking.

"when we get back we can change and then i am taking you out to lunch," mack revealed their next plans.

"ooh, where?"

"it's a surprise," he hummed as they pulled out of the parking lot which had become a lot more busier as the day persisted.

because mack thought ahead, he packed different clothes so he didn't have to drive all the way back to his place when they got back to blaire's apartment. he followed her inside where she warned him that it was a bit of mess because she hadn't done dishes since yesterday afternoon and she stressed doing laundry last night. the boy didn't care though, eagerly running to the bathroom to pee while blaire went to find a new outfit for lunch.

she decided on pink, babydoll tank top and a jean skirt, a sorority staple during recruitment season. mack reemerged from the bathroom in a nice blue button down a black shorts. he smiled when he saw blaire's outfit.

"you look pretty," he hummed, clasping his hands around her waist.

"you look pretty too. do i need anything else?" she wondered and he shook his head.

"nope, just your pretty little self," he kissed her again before they headed back out.

mack drove them into downtown all while blaire just kept trying to guess where the reservation was. the hockey player had a great poker face though and never cracked until he pulled into a parking space in front of mastro's steakhouse which was one of blaire's favorites. they went here when they first started dating again and the girl had never stopped talking about it since.

"oh shit! i should have known. i'm so excited and so hungry," the girl exclaimed. mack took her hand and they walked in together, greeted with a smile by the hostess.

"for celebrini?" mack said and she nodded. "follow me."

the hostess took the couple around the corner to one of the tables by the window. blaire was too caught up in the ambiance and decorations of the place that she didn't see two people are sitting at the table with their faces covered by menu's. mack nudged her arm, smiling a bit mischievously when blaire looked at them and then at the table. she grew confused until the two slowly peeked their eyes over the menu and blaire quickly recognized them.

"holy shit. no way!!" the dirty blonde jumped up in excitement. samy and will completely showed their faces, samy getting up to hug her.

"happy birthday, blaire!!"

"what are you doing here?" the figure skater was in so much shock.

"a little birdie told us it was your birthday," samy laughed and let her hug will too.

"i was just thinking about how excited i am to be at the lake house for the first time next month. what a nice surprise," blaire beamed and quickly found her seat.

"so how's your birthday been so far?" samy wondered.

"it's been good. mack and i went golfing this morning," she smiled at her boyfriend beside her.

"aw did you have to drag her out?" will teased.

"no, she actually wanted to go," mack said.

"that's a first. samy hates going golfing with me," will looked at his girl and she rolled her eyes.

"i do not. i wouldn't go every day, but i will go occasionally."

"doesn't she whip your ass at it?" macklin raised his eyebrow and will flushed.

"no. she doesn't. she does do very well though," the blonde defended himself while everyone laughed.

the four took turns catching up with one another. samy filled blaire in on the past semester while blaire talked about her own too. the boys didn't have much to say besides hockey, but it wasn't much new news from them. they just happily listened to their girlfriends yap away about this, that, and the other.

"so how's everyone else been? gabe? emma? julianne? ryan? hannah?" blaire still hadn't officially met all of them yet, only talking over random instagram comments, but she was excited to formally meet them in michigan.

"they're good. uh, let's see...ryan's in mass with julie. hannah's in michigan and long island with james—oh, she's gonna be here for the draft on friday, so maybe we can all get together. gabe and emma are back together, so that's good," samy explained each of their friends' whereabouts this summer.

"really? oh, i'm glad. i felt so bad," blaire frowned.

"yeah, they're good now," samy smiled.

"gabo was classy with it, don't worry. he took her on a sunset dinner cruise," will chuckled.

"damn, he's already putting that league money to use," the boys shared a laugh at the joke.

"wow, i can't believe it's already draft season again. do i know anyone who's in?" blaire wondered.

"james hagens, hannah's boyfriend, is. uhh, matt schaefer but i don't really know him. michael misa.." samy hummed.

"i've heard all of those names i think. that's exciting," blaire nodded.

"dude, that schaefer kid is good. the islanders will be getting a good one. they think haggy's going philly," will informed his knowledge.

"dude, i know. some tough competition. philly would be good for hags, i could see that," mack nodded in agreement. blaire wasn't that knowledgeable in hockey, so she looked at samy for help on the lingo the boys were using. the brunette chuckled and explained what blaire didn't understand.

the rest of lunch went well. the four talked about everything they had missed while being apart and at the end, samy promised they'd get together again before she went back to michigan with will. blaire loved how inseparable the older couple was and how they always went where the other was when they didn't have other obligations going on. she hoped her and mack could become like them.

"sooo?" the young rookie wondered when they got back into the car.

"best surprise ever. that was so fun," the dirty blonde beamed.

"they thought it would be fun to surprise you since they were already gonna be in town for the draft this weekend. samy was all for it when i brought the idea up," mack explained.

"thank you, i love getting to hang out with them. they're so..mom and dad already you know? like i can't wait for their wedding," that made the two laugh.

"yeah, tell me about it."

the couple was tired after such a big lunch, so they headed back to blaire's apartment for some much needed rest after getting up so early. mack apparently had another gift up his sleeve when he revealed another box once they were inside.

"what is this? you didn't get me something else. you just paid for my lunch," the girl laughed as she became curious as to what else her boyfriend could've gotten her. she was just being spoiled today.

"i think you'll like it," the boy hummed and watched with a smile as she unwrapped the mystery.

one thing about blaire was that she was a huge reader. she loved to read in her free time and mack really loved that about her, especially when all she talked about was the latest book she'd been reading, so mack got her the throne of glass book series she'd been raving about and dying to read, she just hadn't made it to the book store yet. when the wrapping flew off blaire's eyes widened in disbelief when she saw the entire series sitting in her lap.

"oh my god you didn't!" she looked over at her boyfriend in surprise.

"you kept telling me how much you wanted to read the series, so i got it for you so you don't have to get it now," the boy smiled.

"i love you, i love you, i love you. you know me so well," she jumped up to kiss him.

the girl couldn't have asked for a better birthday because she got to spend it with the one person who knew her better than anyone. they changed into more comfortable clothes and blaire immediately settled onto the couch to start reading the first book. she never needed a huge party or big gifts, just something easy and simple like laying on the couch with mack at her side as he dozed off for a nap after spending the whole morning golfing 18 holes by himself.

blaire was tight in his hold and she giggled when she heard soft snores falling from his lips so quickly. it never took long for him to crash. she gently kissed his forehead, whispering a soft thank you before spending the rest of her birthday in his arms reading.

how could it get better?

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royalarchivist · 1 year ago

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Fit: Alright Ramon, I'm gonna tell you a bedtime story about nighttime.

Fit: Now, nighttime of course is when monsters come out, and they try and scare little eggs just like you. But, the thing about nighttime is that as long as you have a source of light, you will be safe. That's right. And Ramon, do you want to know what my source of light is on this island? It's you, my boy. You are my light on this island. Without you, I would be covered in darkness.

Fit: So, I'm just- I'm just so glad to have you as my boy. That's right.

Ramon: [Nods and holds up his totem]

Fit: Oh, Ramon... Yeah, that's right – you got that totem right there! You're going to be nice and safe with that as well! That's right. But I'm just uh– I'm glad you woke up today, Ramon. I was getting worried about you for a second, but no, you're a tough kid. So, I'm just glad you woke up.

#FitMC #Ramon #QSMP #Fit #Literally losing my damn mind over this quote #like. bruh #Thinking about q!Fit's character growth since the start of the Island and how he's opened his heart more #but also thinking about how Ramon made Fit promise not to go into a murderous rampage if he lost both his lives and died for good #Thinking about q!Fit and his relationship with love and hope...#o(-(#Anyways I'll leave meta for the main but posting this clip for everyone to go crazy over it with me in the meantime #I look forward to reading the tags on this post #June 6 2023

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molathesunfish · 3 months ago

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more of this one i'm quite fond of her

#limbus company #limbus ocs #sketch #traditional stuff #lcb dmitri #yes i made her almost exclusively so i have a design to draw rodimitri yuri with later. so. sorry.#or look forward to that. im drawing it either way #anyone who has read the book probably saw this coming and you all should unfollow me now #i actually like that one line about wine so much that i want to incorporate it into a base ego mockup somehow.. more on that later #self-indulgent bullshit i love you forever!!#on the topic of self-indulgence though #the reception of girlclair has been surprisingly positive #not that i thought people would react negatively #i just figured it'd be more along the line of indifference. so! better than i expected!#thank you. i read all the tags and i love you<3 #now here come the real flop posts with an audience of one #girl who doesnt even exist tangentially to canon #yet. YET. she's gotta show up eventually. at some point #not if. WHEN. please they seriously can't just remove her i'm on my knees #i know they might change/cut characters for narrative purposes à la canto vi. but please. they have to keep dunya and mitya pleaseeeeee

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i-dreamed-i-had-a-son · 6 months ago

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I cannot emphasize enough how much everything In-ho did during his time in the games was in service of breaking down Gi-hun. Every glance, every story, every comment was incredibly and deliberately calculated.

His first interaction with Gi-hun immediately places the blame on Gi-hun for the games continuing: "I pressed the O because of you." He also explicitly asks for Gi-hun's help on behalf of the group. This sucks Gi-hun into being a mechanism of the games themselves (not just a player, but one telling others how to play) while robbing him of his agency to do so: whereas he was confident in helping during the first game, because it was his choice, In-ho's request forces him to share about the Dalgona prematurely, and he then has a nightmare about misleading the players. This also leads to many players becoming hostile when the game is not Dalgona, which--who could have guessed?--In-ho jumps in to stop. He orchestrated the situation so that Gi-hun would feel maximum pressure and guilt, before In-ho himself relieves it to build trust between them.

Then there are the introductions. In-ho uses Gi-hun's name before they are introduced, which may have been a genuine slip, but was very likely intentional given his response. In-ho's method throughout the games is to parallel and associate himself with Jung-bae, Gi-hun's only actual friend (he saves him during the merry-go-round games; he eavesdrops on Jung-bae's conversation with Gi-hun and directly uses the "get me a soju" line from that conversation to subconsciously build Gi-hun's trust in him during the firefight). So when he uses Gi-hun's name, he says he does so because he heard Jung-bae doing it, and Gi-hun allows him to continue--this creates the first of the links between them. But then, when they are properly introduced, In-ho laughs that "Seong" just means "last name;" in doing so, he implies to those who don't know him that Gi-hun may not be telling the truth, and in context of their conversation (focused on the significance of their names) highlights how Seong Gi-hun is "no one special." He's just an everyman.

Another reason that "slip" was almost certainly intentional is that In-ho is very deliberate about showing moments of weakness. His breakdown during the Six-Legged Race was designed to both further stress Gi-hun (and if Gi-hun had failed, they were in the very last groups present, so they could have been selectively spared as needed) and to strengthen their bond, as Gi-hun got to "encourage" In-ho; then In-ho helped Gi-hun and the team win by kicking with him the final time. Even cheering along with Gi-hun while the other teams went was in service of cementing their connection; and, any time a team failed, In-ho got to observe Gi-hun's reactions under the guise of empathy. In-ho may have felt some genuine emotions while cheering or comforting Gi-hun, but they aren't to be trusted.

That's particularly true because of his biggest "weak" moment: telling Gi-hun why he is in the games. The show confirms, when Jun-ho finds the winner file, that In-ho actually did join the games years before (from his family we know that it was because of his wife's illness), and that he won them himself. So he isn't lying about the details of his personal story--and he even gets emotional--but it is, once again, all in service of ensnaring Gi-hun and earning his trust. In-ho is not faking all of his emotions, but he is controlling and weaponizing them, which is why none of his apparent fondness for Gi-hun can be trusted. He uses his emotions as a tool, rather than being affected by them.

The ultimate result of this manipulation is that Gi-hun is made to feel that everything that happens is his choice (even the things he didn't choose). From the beginning, In-ho has ascribed his choices to Gi-hun. Throughout the games, there are several moments where In-ho explicitly has Gi-hun choose for him; other times, In-ho suggests an approach and Gi-hun shoots it down, and In-ho always coalesces. Gi-hun gets to have "his way." But "his way" doesn't seem to work, and he, like the rest of the players, is changed by the games. His final plan, as In-ho forces him to face, involves a sacrifice of some for the good of the many. Only after he admits this (through his silence) does In-ho agree to help. Then, during the firefight, when Gi-hun tries to give In-ho the ammunition he risked his life to get, In-ho asks, "Are you sure?" Gi-hun's choice to trust In-ho leads to him running out of ammunition earlier, forcing his surrender; meanwhile, In-ho still "dies," and Jung-bae is shot in front of Gi-hun's eyes. None of Gi-hun's choices made things better--they made it all his fault. He is left with the blame, as the Frontman (who is In-ho! And always has been!) tells him point blank.

But none of Gi-hun's choices have really been choices. They have all been based on lies, within a system that uses the information they have to actively orchestrate events against him. The same is true of the players in the game; their choices are not free, because their circumstances (largely caused by unfairness in the world) have trapped them. The baseness they resort to is not what they would do if they really had the choice, and some are even able to choose virtue within the hellscape, but over and over, the system facilitates the dominance of cruelty. And In-ho, the personification of that system, targets Seong Gi-hun, the "Everyman," to make him submit to it--to make him choose to believe that there is no other way.

#seong gi hun #hwang in ho #squid game #squid game 2 #meta #my meta posts #kay can i just catch my breath for a second #this took me a while but i think it was worth it #and many people have already commented on how clearly this is an allegory for how society works in relation to us‚ the people in it #so i don't need to get into that but just to say it so that i have: we always have a choice.#and i hope against hope that gi-hun is somehow able to continue making that choice‚ the right choice‚ to believe in the good of humanity #to believe in a way out and a way forward if we just work together‚ if we just look into the face of a stranger and see a fellow man #because i believe in that. i *have* to believe in that. it is the only way to survive and the only way to have joy #and my fear is that the narrative is clearly leaning toward tragedy. toward turning him into the next frontman‚ or killing him #and that would be a sore loss indeed. people call him stupid and naïve but to me he reads as orpheus #not unaware of the way the world works‚ but refusing to accept it. desperate to show us 'how the world could be...'#'...in spite of the way that it is.' and in response i can only hope: 'maybe it will turn out this time‚ on the road to hell...'#'it's a sad song. but we're gonna sing it even so.'#kay has a party in the tags

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