#absolute delight to have in my inbox

[sir-cookieton]

I can’t believe you threw them. Down a well. You know I’m starting to understand why Chirithy don’t want to take baths—

Local Chirithy unions rejoice as 'Local Maniac', known for 'dunking Chirithies down wells' was finally caught. Upon their capture, they could only be quoted saying 'I thought that was how you wash them!'

(featuring my rarely seen keykid aasdfghj + ephemer learnt a lot about their friend that day)

Poor sopping wet Chirithy... now all they need is a towel and a hot drink... after they've had their bath of course...

[deerspherestudios]

Cheea!🖤 good timezone . Congratulations on releasing DAY 2; the storyline is fantastic! I really like Mychael's new look and sprites, looking forward to the future plot!

I have a question: I once tried making an apple pie, but the crust turned out so hard it could be used as a shield. If I were to give this apple pie to Mychael, would he eat it, or would he hide it, pretending to have already consumed it?

I hope this question isn't offensive. If it's inconvenient to answer, feel free to skip it. Anyway, wishing you a wonderful day!٩(๑•̀ω•́๑)۶

Aaaa ty!! I'm glad you enjoyed Day 2! I think he'd definitely try to eat it regardless of the ruined crust hahaha. He's already so happy you made it for him, he's gonna make sure he eats every crumb!

And no worries, he has pretty strong teeth. Crunch crunch.

[kitsunesakii]

Two is Better than one

I went wild with this one :D

Chapter six

Sasha entered her apartment with the quiet click of the front door. She tossed her backpack onto the chair in the kitchen and started a cup of tea. A clatter from the adjacent room caught her attention. She frowned slightly before peeking her head into the other room.

It took her a moment to process the scene before her eyes.

Micheal was sitting on her living room floor, long fingers carefully curling through the fur of a content cat purring below him. She noted a secondary feline to the left, pawing at a strand of long spindly blonde hair. He glanced at her lazily, tipping his head to the side and humming.

There was only one thing wrong with this picture. Sasha didn't own pets.

"Micheal-what?"

His smile widened. "Hello my dear."

She gestured to the cat now rolling onto its back as Micheal petted its belly. "Where did these come from?"

He looked over at the one still playing with his hair. "They followed someone into my corridors. They followed me here."

Right. Sasha shook her head and sat down, the one on its back stretched out before moving towards her curiously, it had orange hair like a tabby. She pet it and it purred in response.

"Micheal."

"Sasha."

"I don't have the stuff for these guys. I barely have the room, you don't really expect me too-" Her words were cut short as she watched the grey one tangled in Micheal's hair sound out a small mewl as Micheal tenderly picked it up in its hands with too much bone and fingers that stretched too far across. The cat didn't seem to mind.

Micheal hummed as he watched the cat in his arms twist and curl, purring contently as if Micheal wasn't a terrifying monster. Sasha dared to smile.

"I believe, if I remember correctly, these creatures need food, water." He chimed lightly. Sasha rolled her eyes.

"Fine. There's a store down the way from here. They have pet supplies." Sasha sighed as she stood to her feet. "And they are cats, Micheal."

He didn't so much as stand to his feet, rather a blur of motion and colors that stretched out and scattered like sand before he was standing in front of her. "Cats. Yes."

She grabbed her bag and walked towards the door, stopping when she realized Micheal was following her.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you of course." He giggled, "silly question."

"Right." Sasha smiled, "This won't end badly at all."

----------------------------------------------

The actual trip wasn't horrible.

Besides the fact that every single dog started barking at Micheal which earned them a few curious glances from the staff, they made it out with a sack of cat food, cat litter, and a box. Even more than she had expected, Micheal paid. Handing the cash to the women as Sasha looked at him with such a confused expression she partially believed he did it just to see her reaction. Laughing as they left the store with the supplies. She simply shook her head.

"I think- he had one."

Sasha looked over at him, he looked, well, human. The way his coat sat on his shoulders and down past his boots, his hands wrapped around a bag of cat food. His eyes trained on nothing before looking over at her with a sharp smile.

Sasha frowned. "Who?"

"Micheal. Before-" His words echoed and trailed off.

Sasha understood. "I'm sorry." The words felt stupid in her mouth.

"Do not be, its-" he paused. "It's a nice memory, I am not sorry to have it, amongst the fractals of everything and nothing and the not-in between, it is nice."

Sasha thought about her question a moment before asking. "What's it like?"

"What?"

"The...what you said about the fractals and the nothingness, delusion...what's it like?"

"It Is Not What It Is and it is a part of me" he said it like a broken tune from some forgotten nursery rhyme. "It is madness- throaty, hollow, the depths of doubt- madness that stirs in the mind. It is not a physicality, but, within it, there is a certain…” He paused. “Ah! Beauty. Like a fine piece of decoration in a mundane hallway." Micheal laughed long and hard as they approached her building.

"You say it's beautiful?"

He giggled and shook his head. "You tell me, my dear, what with your It Knows You, all that knowledge will never satisfy, never relief, you see all and yet-" They entered her house to the two cats scratching up her couch and seemingly content with life. “Madness floods the senses and dilutes the mind, leaving it clear. It changes perception, blinds reality. It's a song sung with all the wrong notes and the wrong tune but it is beautiful nonetheless.” He sat the bag on the kitchen table and she prepared two bowls.

“A broken melody is still broken.”

“Ah, but only you would know if it's broken.”

Sasha paused and stared at him. He was crouched down, pouring the food into the bowl she had provided. It got everywhere and he giggled. Letting out a hummed “oops.” Before moving a long finger to scatter the dropped food even further. His hair cascaded around his shoulders and swept across the floor, the grey cat already taking interest in his dubbed playtoy.

She understood what he meant. And maybe there was a relieving beauty to it. Someone’s only lost if they themselves don’t know how to get to their destination. But if someone is simply wandering, well. There could be a comfort to that. Ignorance is bliss after all. A buzz of muddled headspace that someone looks for within drugs or alcohol. A weight lifted from the mind as it's consumed by something that isn’t tangible.

“Do you understand?” He looked back at her, the pieces of food that had missed the bowl now nowhere to be seen. The two cats had taken an interest in the food and water and were quick to indulge themselves. She looked into Micheal’s eyes, the swirling spirals that seemed to impossibly dilate as he looked at her. He seemed softer, somehow. All folded up and crouched on her floor seemingly as protection to the felines happily eating away. His sweater changed and morphed in color and she half wondered where his coat went. His scarf was wound around his neck and seemed to move like a snake, continually curling over his shoulders. Twisting and bending and pulling in every direction. He was an enigma to look at. Madness. An ever shifting idea that barely took shape before it was changing again. Beautiful. She decided.

He was beautiful.

She almost forgot he was waiting for a response. “I understand.” The words didn’t feel nearly enough. Some part of her reminded herself that she was supposed to be scared of this thing that had casually dropped two cats at her feet like it was nothing. This thing that bought the supplies with money she wasn’t sure he was even supposed to have. This thing that had given her a distorted flower that she still had in the living room. This thing that followed her around with a curiosity she couldn’t explain. This thing that had kissed her cheek instead of killing her when she had been in its corridors. She ignored that voice and instead moved to fix the litter box in the washroom.

Not even an hour later she was curled up on the couch petting the tabby as Micheal played with the gray one on the floor not even a foot away.

“What are their names?” She asked him, breaking the silence that seemed to muffle Micheal’s laughter as he let the cat swipe at his long fingers, pulling them away just in time.

“Names are redundant.”

She rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll call this one Pumpkin.”

He didn’t look away from the cat, letting it catch his fingers and pull them down to bite playfully. Micheal hardly seemed bothered. “Daisies.”

“The cat? That’s a pretty name.”

“No-” He giggled. “I remembered. I was picking them up.” He drew his hand away and pointed at the mess of lines and colors that had once been a flower, sitting in a jar on the coffee table.

Sasha smiled back. “Daisy it is. Pumpkin and Daisy.”

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

[starflungwaddledee]

[msfantasy-anime]

Buggy’s Daughter Is a Master of Disguise!

Vinsmoke. Sanji x Reader

Request: A If it's not too much trouble, could you write a oneshot about a fem! reader who's a Strawhat Pirate and disguised herself as a man to try and fly under the Marine's radar since she's the daughter of a well known pirate. [Maybe Crocodile or Buggy] & she has a very high bounty so she disguises herself and she has feelings for Sanji but doesn't act on them because of her disguise. The crew/Sanji could find out her true identity during Enies Lobby since CP9 have orders to take her in as well since the World Gov. has found out her identity!

A/n: I hadn’t looked at my inbox in so long I’m sorry to keep you waiting! I have been obsessively writing stories on an account for OC fantasy and been neglecting my comic and anime accounts. I did take creative liberties on the ‘finding out’ part since … I don’t like Enies Lobby (SORRY- I’m not sorry that arch sucks)

You will never forget the day Luffy asked you to join his crew.

The circus show that was your life had long since lost its appeal.

The over the top stages, smothered under yards of gaudy fabrics, where the stage lighting flicked through every colour of the rainbow until the bright spot light would land on you— the starting act to the main event being your father, Buggy the Clown. Always dressed together in ridiculous costumes ready to perform any act whether it be slapstick, comedy, dance, song, acrobats or stunts. Name any, you’ve done it.

Oh and how you loved it. Entertaining the crew until their belly ached from laughing or tears from a heart touching performance. To leave everyone buzzing for days after a good show— there was no greater high than that. Your father was certainly proud of you for it.

Your fun-loving father, would tuck you into bed as he spoke of dreams of unforeseen riches and absolute power, to become the king of the pirates! And you couldn’t think of a better man than your own father. But that was before the years carried on with little to no progress on his dream, festering bitterness, rage and resentment to surfaced.

With your father becoming emotionally unavailable, you turned to the stage, engrossing yourself to the craft of entertainment until your father began using your sacred stage to indulge his sadistic whims. What was once a place of laughter and spectacle became a theater of cruelty—innocent villagers forced into the spotlight, their suffering turned into a grotesque performance. He would howl with laughter as panic and despair bloomed in their eyes, delighting in their futile struggles. And they would look at you, their gazes burning with desperation, silently pleading—for mercy, for freedom, for their children to be spared.

You missed entertaining the crew upon the high seas, where the sea salt air would glide through your hair, as you perform a one of a kind show; where each town was an opportunity to explore and adventure to your hearts content. When exactly did that all stop?

One day it all just became too much. Abandoning your craft you turned your back to the stage— resigning yourself to being nothing more than a pirate with an enormous bounty of your head.

You’ve witness too much, done too much and done nothing at all to prevent the cruelties your father inflicted.

Standing amidst yet another crumbling town. You anticipated the familiar chorus of cries and screams of those who’ve lost everything. Another destroyed home reduced to a pile of rubble, framed photos sticking out amongst the broken bricks to further emphasise stolen spaces dedicated to families. It was a scene you’ve witnessed countless times before.

But this time, something was different.

The villagers weren’t crying. They were screaming and cheering on the straw hat pirates who are fighting in high spirits, cursing buggy and crying for those who’ve lost everything.

What new low have you reached where even other pirates are disgusted and looking down upon you and the crew for their cruelty?

Your stomach twists painfully, feeling utterly disgusted with yourself.

You hated it.

Hated what the stage had become.

Hated what it represented.

Hated who you became.

You don’t want to be you anymore, you want to be someone else. Someone who wasn’t the daughter of a cruel pirate with a massive bounty— you want to be a pirate, like Luffy. Who laughs and has fun, but never at the expense of others.

“SHUT UP AND JOIN MY CREW ALREADY!” Luffy would scream in your face mid-fight. Excuse after excuse you threw at Luffy but he was done listening. “ACCEPT IT- BE WHOEVER YOU WANT TO BE!”

That moment changed your life forever.

Luffy didn’t care what you had done- he liked you, and wanted you on the crew.

No excuses.

You didn’t have to be part of your father’s crew. If you wanted to be someone else— you could.

The stage taught you that better than anything.

So when you stepped aboard the ship Nami stole; you decided to leave that version of you behind in Orange town.

“You’re Y/n right?” Zoro would ask.

“Jester— I’m here to entertain the king.” You say, pointing towards Luffy who’s beaming a massive toothy smile. “From now on I’m not Y/n. I’m not Buggy’s daughter - I’m Jester, a straw hat pirate.” You state boldly, placing a mask upon your face.

It would be the last time you ever showed it.

“Ya’know, any decent bounty hunter can tell who you are. Even with the mask, your voice is the same, you dress the same and your blue hair is obvious. With your bounty, there are hunters that have studied you endlessly. If you actually want to be unrecognisable— you should change everything.”

“Shut up Zoro! I like Y/n the way they are!” Luffy would scold, pressing his vein popping forehead against Zoros own.

“I want to leave that part of me behind Captain— if I’m becoming a strawhat, i want my bounty to be under your name, not my dads.”

“Oh yeah— okay.” Luffy relents instantly, picking his ear as he withdraws from the discussion to sit where the sea breeze is strongest.

So you did, transforming yourself into Jester, you’re greatest disguise.

This was all before Sanji of course.

If you had known you’d might’ve gone for a feminine disguise…. Maybe then he would finally see you and not Jester— his best friend.

When Sanji first joined, you were honestly relieved he didn’t know you were a woman—especially after seeing the way he fell apart like a lovesick fool around any pretty girl.

And yet, despite all of that, there was an undeniable spark of bro-mance between you two.

It was effortless. You didn’t need words to understand each other; you could read his mind just as easily as he could finish your sentences. That bond had been forged through countless days and nights side by side—challenging him with bizarre ingredient combinations, serving as his trusted taste tester, or fighting together with an unspoken understanding that you always had each other’s backs.

There were too many memories to count—drinking, partying, eating, talking, exploring. You were the brother he never had. Someone to laugh with, someone to exchange sharp-witted insults with, someone to tease when he inevitably spiraled into his love-struck antics.

A Bro-mance through and through.

All until after the two years apart— where you returned and Sanji was just… different.

He continued to treat you with the same energy, but you struggled to keep yourself together. Feeling the inkling tenderness surfacing. A warmth for him you hadn’t felt prior.

My god— did Zoro grin pull at his lips when he caught a glimpse of your affectionate eyes lingering a little too long.

Never less you sallowed down your feelings, unwilling to allow your identity to resurface.

You love being Jester.

That’s who you are.

The afternoon sun glows a golden light on the horizon as it dips lower into the ocean. Most of the boys were on the main deck enjoying the peaceful bliss of the open sky.

Luffy lays on the deck grass, his hat loosely placed upon his face.

Zoros back leaning against the main mast, watching Chopper and Usopp fish, all whilst you and Sanji chatter up a storm as per usual.

“My sensors must be broken— I can always sense a beautiful woman when I’m near you,” Sanji says, placing a cigarette in his mouth, holding a flame to the end.

Your shoulders tense up at Sanji’s statement- unsure where to take it from there.

Usopp grumbles, not fully listening to Sanji’s nonsense as he leans the line behind him, whipping the rod forward, casting out his fishing line and watching the weight sink below the crisp blue sea water. Zoro raises a knowing brow to you, as your eyes silently scream at Zoro to turn his smug face away. “That’s kinda creepy —“ Usopp quips.

“Must be because Jesters my ultimate wingman.” Sanji cheers, throwing his arms around your shoulder.

“Yeah, Jester is definitely helping you with that.” The barking laughter that followed from Zoro made you stare silent daggers back at him.

Leaning back, you cause Sanji’s arm hanging on your shoulder to tilt down, his fingers grazing your bound chest, his hand twitches at the odd sensation.

You spring from your place under his arm, attempting to hide your flinch as jovial jumping as you bound away from Sanji.

“I might hit the showers!” You announce suddenly, dashing away from the conversation.

Chopper stares at Sanji— confused with Sanji’s earlier statement.

“Just out of curiosity—” Chopper asks tilting his head to the side. “Why won’t you flirt with Jester like you do with other ladies?”

“Huh?” Sanji cranes his neck, trying to make sense of Choppers question.

“Because Jesters the only girl you haven’t —“

“Chopper. That’s enough.” Zoro says, his stern face makes Choppers mouth clamp shut instantly. Feeling as though he said something he shouldn’t.

The damage was already done. Choppers words circulated Sanji’s brain until realisation dawned upon him in real time.

The bound chest.

The monthly tummy aches.

You always disappearing whenever a bathhouse is around— but he just figured with you being popular with the ladies since he always sees Nami or Robin pulling you along with them when they think he’s not watching…

Oh god…

“YOURE TELLING ME JESTERS A GIRL?!” Sanji just about squeals, his cigarette falling from his lips.

“Yeah what about it?” Luffy murmurs, sliding his hat away from his face.

Sanji storms over, grabbing Luffy by the collar.

“You’re telling me you knew?!” Sanji sputters, desperate to hear Luffy sound just as confused as he felt, but Luffy just stared back up at him casually.

“Of course I knew — I’m the captain.” He says calmly, pulling Sanji’s clenched fingers off his vest.

“What about you? You don’t look surprised.” Sanji accuses Zoro, shoving a unwarranted finger to his chest.

“I was the first mate remember? Jester came after me, we picked her up in Orange Town.” Zoro answers calmly, slapping his hand away.

“Does that mean Nami knows?” Sanji asks, desperately seeking out another who may have also been kept in the dark.

“Oh course— she was there.” Zoro grumbled in annoyance at swirly brows high pitched breakdown.

Sanji spins around to Usopp. “You.” He says angrily, making Usopp gulp. “Why aren’t you freaking out.”

Usopp stares off to the side, reluctantly answering. “Well… I didn’t know Jester was— but you know… I thought… I walked in on her taking a bath and” Sanji took a step back, not wanting to hear the rest.

“Listen swirly brow, save your breath. You’re the last to know— now get over it. Jester doesn’t want to make it into a big deal.”

He felt betrayed, seemingly everyone knew except Sanji.

I guess the clowns out of the box now.

How the hell could Sanji have guessed? You’re the master or disguise. The best theatrical performer, fit to entertain the king of the pirates.

He turns on his heel, storming towards your private room which even you didn’t let him into.

Approaching the door he slams it open, making you jump up at the sudden ruckus. Your head instinctively snapping towards the source of noise.

Your clear feminine face in view without a Jesters mask to shield you.

Sanji’s heart skips a beat at the sight of you. Your hair which is typically tied up and hidden away is free flowing out, your baggy clothes now tossed to the side as you were half dressed, your distinctive feminine chest unbounded, your waist dipping deeper than a man’s should and your hips wider than what a man’s should be.

You’re fully clothed, but Sanji feels embarrassed to suddenly see so much more of you than he expected.

“How could you not tell me?” Sanji accuses, his furrowed brows and his eyes remain downcast. His hands clenching to fists in his pockets. “I—“ Sanji’s voice wavers. “Suppose that our friendship was one sided.” He turns his back, walking away from you, retreating to the sanctity that was his kitchen.

It might not have been a fair statement.

And Sanji knows that every woman has her secrets— but you’re different.

You’re his best friend.

How can his friendship with you return to what it was?

“Wait Sanji!” You yell out, making him pause in his step, but he doesn’t dare to look at you. Your usual deep gravely voice is lighter and airy making his heart clench in betrayal— not even knowing what your real voice sounded like. “I’m sorry— I didn’t know how to tell you!” You defend, but Sanji didn’t move.

“I thought we were friends.” He states making you scoff.

“Of course we’re friends!”

“But we’re not! You know everything about me, but until today, I never realised you were a stranger!” You physically step back as if his words lashed you like a whip.

“Sanji—“

“Jester—“ He says your name through gritted teeth, like the words burned the inside of his mouth.

“I don’t even know your name.” He says, starring at the floor in anger. More so with himself than with you. How can two people spend this much time together and he didn’t even ask you more, to ask the right questions. Why didn’t you tell him? “Just … forget it.”

“My name is Y/n.” You say. And it was like music to his ears, the way your name sounded rolling off your tongue. “I’m the daughter of Buggy the clown.” He stiffens at your admission, his eyes growing wider. “I wanted to escape myself— start a new under a captain who deserved my loyalty and not because I’m a relative.” You say, grabbing Sanji’s arm, forcing him to face you. “I hated who I was, I hated what I witnessed and hated what I didn’t do. Captain was against it but respected my wishes— I wanted to start anew, and so I did.” You say, Sanji now facing you. “It’s not that I wanted to keep you in the dark. I just liked that you didn’t see my ugly truth.” You whisper, tears brimming your eyes.

Sanji felt like a total moron, making a woman cry.

Without another word, he pulls you into a proper hug, holding you tight as silent tears fell.

“I’m sorry— I’m an idiot.” He whispers.

“Yeah.”

“Where’s Sanji?” Nami asks as she approaches the boys lounging about the deck.

“He found out.” Luffy says, standing up and attempting to walk off without another word.

Nami gasped loudly, grabbing Luffy by the vest and shaking him aggressively. “YOU MORON! HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME! IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CLIFFHANGER FOR YEARS AND I MISSED IT!” Nami cries dramatically. Luffy groans, his head spinning.

“Why does everyone keep doing this!” He groans again.

“Relax— he’s only just found out. This ‘will they- won’t they’ crap takes longer.” Zoro mumbles.

[kxsagi]

hellooo kxsagi!!! hope you're prepared for my coming requests... 😈‼️

may i humblyy request a first date oneshot with rin where he's all nervous and shy and like flustered??? and when reader says something sweet he tries to hide the fact his ears are red AWSSSSSAS 🤭 it would be nice if it was an aquarium date (js saying...) 🙊🙏

(i actually requested this before and i'm not sure whether it went thru so i'm so sorry if it's a repeat 💔)

thank u and take care!!!! ❤️‍🩹

“𝐚𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡”

a/n: YESSSS THIS WAS SO CUTE TO WRITE

take care as well!!! i love your comments and requests anna girl pls keep them coming (well for requests i mean when my inbox is open again 😭)

you think rin itoshi must be the shyest boy alive. 

not in the awkward, stuttery, can’t-make-eye-contact kind of way, but in the "his ears turn red when you smile at him for too long" kind of way. the kind of shy that hides behind cool silence and narrowed eyes, but crumbles when you call him pretty under glowing jellyfish lights. 

and today? he is crumbling spectacularly. 

he's walking beside you, a stiff 6’1 wall of discomfort, as if the concept of a first date is more terrifying than a championship final. and really, maybe for rin itoshi, it is. he can handle cleats and crowds, but your fingers brushing his on the escalator? that has him malfunctioning in real-time. 

“you’re being weird,” you say sweetly, nudging his arm as you both enter the first tunnel of the aquarium. it’s dark, except for the glittering sapphire glow of the water above and beside you, an entire sea of fish floating like stars. 

“i’m not,” he replies, immediately suspicious. defensive. like a criminal falsely accused. he won’t look at you, just stares very hard at a stingray like it owes him money. 

you laugh, light and musical, and loop your arm through his. he tenses like you just planted a landmine on his body. so dramatic, you think. so adorable. 

“you’re literally walking like i have a knife to your back.” 

“because you’re making fun of me.” 

“i’m not! i’m being affectionate.” 

rin tries very hard not to react. and fails. because his ears? glowing. nuclear. like someone dipped them in strawberry jam. 

you stop walking and tilt your head. “rin.” 

he visibly debates whether to bolt or not. you catch him in time, pressing your hand to his cheek so he can’t turn away, thumb brushing over the warmth blooming there. 

“aw,” you whisper. “look at you. blushing. you’re so cute.” 

he actually groans in agony. 

“why would you say that out loud?” 

“because it’s true?” 

“stop talking.” 

he looks like he might wither. evaporate. ascend. and yet, he doesn’t pull away. if anything, he leans into your palm, just the tiniest bit, like it’s the only thing grounding him. like he can’t help it. 

you grin, absolutely delighted. 

“your ears are red again.” 

“shut up.” 

you’re giggling uncontrollably now, especially when he yanks his hood up like it’s going to protect him from your loving words. “you’re like a little turtle retreating into your shell.” 

“do you want to be left at the otter exhibit.” 

you coo, “ohhh, he’s threatening me now! so scary! should i be trembling?” 

“yes.” 

you wrap both arms around his stiff frame and squeeze. rin makes a noise like a kicked puppy and awkwardly pats your back twice, like someone trying to comfort a ghost. 

the best part? he’s trying. you can feel it in the way his fingers twitch toward yours when you walk again, how he keeps glancing at you from the corner of his eye, like he wants to say something but doesn’t trust his mouth not to betray him. 

so you do the talking. 

“this is fun,” you murmur as you stop in front of a glowing wall of jellyfish, your reflections bathed in soft, dreamy blue. 

“mm.” 

you glance at him. “are you having fun?” 

he hesitates. “... yeah.” 

you lean your head on his shoulder. 

“really?” you whisper. 

his reply is quiet. barely audible. “... because you’re here.” 

and it hits you, soft as seafoam – rin itoshi doesn’t need a lot of words. he doesn’t need grand gestures. all it takes is one quiet truth, wrapped in a mumble, delivered with ears glowing red, for your whole chest to melt. 

you look up at him with a smile so sweet it could ruin him. 

he tries to scowl. tries. but his lips twitch up at the corners anyway. 

“you’re not gonna let me live this down, are you.” 

“absolutely not.” 

and when you raise your phone for a picture, he sighs, tugs you in by the waist, and looks into the camera with a blush and the softest eyes you’ve ever seen. 

jellyfish glowing behind you. your hands tangled together. 

and rin, flustered, adorable, totally yours. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠��

[gilverrwrites]

Can I request dickkori throuple shenanigans? Them hearing/seeing you, who's fairly shy around them so they've never really gotten a solid feel on if you're romantically interested, say something absolutely heinously horny on main while you don't realize they are right there watching/hearing you embarrassing yourself. "I have a thirst that can only be quenched by sucking the sweat out of Nightwings jockstrap after a particularly active patrol" level thirsting. "Can I just have a SIP of Starfires bathwater. Please God I'll never ask for anything else ever 🙏🏽" while you're too shy to ever say anything to their faces but they're right there tittering to themselves just out of your line of sight hoping you'll keep going about how you want to sink your teeth into the both of them

𝓣𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓱 𝓸𝓻 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓮?

DickKory/Reader, ≈ 900 words, ft. Arsenal A/N: If you saw this posted without any text no you didn't. I defo did not accidentally his 'post now' instead of 'save' while editing, so I had copy paste the ask into my inbox and re-edit all my colourful lettering again. Nope. It's also totally not like my 3/4th time doing that lol. Also, hey Starfire anon, was this you?

“Truth.”

“Chicken.” Arsenal eyes you judgmentally over the rim of his non-alcoholic beer. “Nightwing or Starfire?”

It’s telling to everyone in the vicinity that you don’t even wait for context before you groan petulantly; “What? Just one? That’s an impossible choice!”

Normally, you’re not so forthcoming, but Arsenal seems to have lucked out on catching you in a chatty mood. The perceived privacy of the towers' rec room at 1 AM, and your choice of drink probably have something to do with it too.

“I mean, have you seen them both? Like Nightwing, have you seen him after battle? I swear, just looking at him evokes a thirst in me that can only be quenched by sucking the sweat out of his jockstrap.” Self-consciousness trickles the back of your psyche as the words leave your lips but the memories of Dick post-fight; emboldened by victory as sweat causes his dark hair to stick to his face, his body shaking from exhilaration, is enough to keep you from shying away from your statement.

The look on Arsenal’s face has shifted, from judgment to intrigue. His brow arches, a cheeky smile on his lips as he probes for more, a chuckle underlining his words. “Yeah? An’ Star?”

“Heh, Star? Fuck.” You sip at your drink, parching your dried lips as you search for the words to describe your team's very own warrior princess. “Earth doesn’t make them like that.”

“Noooo, they don’t.” Arsenal agrees. Briefly sharing that same, dreamy, far-off look that adorns your face. “I’d be a dead man after one day on Tamaran, that’s for sure.”

“Same. But if I’ve gotta go, I wanna be drowned in a tub of Starfire’s bathwater. It’s the only way I would die happy.”

Laughter fills the room, Arsenal letting out a contagious full-belly chuckle that infects you, but your head is too full with thoughts of Starfire; naked and relaxed, her sunset skin gleaning in a pool of soapy bubbles, how she might sound humming in delight as she eases her muscles under the hot water, to notice the sound two more voices not to far away.

It’s Arsenal whose demeanour changes first. The smile on his lips shifting from humorous to mischievous as he cocks his head to the side, turning so one ear it closer to the door. Your smile, on the other hand, wavers to an open jaw as you mimic his actions and register the familiar sound of Nightwing and Starfire tittering between themselves.

For a moment, you’re able to delude yourself into believing that they’re simply laughing among themselves over something else, something related to whatever conversation they were having on their way over here. But as you shift to face the door, you see them both through its crack. Starfire, with her big, shining green eyes, stares right back at you, her pointed fingernails pressed to her full lips in an attempt to stifle her smile.

Nightwing is right beside her, his lips pressed to her ear, making no attempt to hide his conceited grin as he leans up to whisper something conspiratorial in her ear.

A flush is already seeping through your body as you come to terms with the situation, but then Nightwing turns his gaze to you. His eyes are concealed by his mask, but his intentions are as bright as Starfire’s aura, made apparent by the provocative way he bites his lower lip beneath his left canine. The combined heat of their attention, especially after what you’d been caught saying is enough to set your skin completely ablaze, from the tips of your ears, right down to your toes.

In a panic, you stand, almost spilling your drink in your frenzy, but managing to catch it at the last second. “I- um- haha- That… that was… I think it’s time for me to go to bed. Good night, Arsenal.” Feeling awkward and unsure of your actions, for some reason, you bow to your truth or dare buddy instead of giving him the nod you’d intended.

It’s not until you turn your attention back to the door that you realise you have to pass by the very subject of your humiliation in order to make your exit.

“Hey! You never actually answered my question.” Arsenal goads as you hesitate, feet scuffing against the polished stone flooring.

Though it adds to the pit in your stomach, that last poke to the fire is what you needed to kick you into gear again. With a deep breath to steady yourself, you march through the door, drink still in hand as you tell Arsenal to “Shut the fuck up!”

“Goodnight, Star, Nightwing.” You offer the couple a stiff farewell without making eye contact, before continuing down the hall.

Each footstep makes a deafening echo as flee, but the sound is not nearly as heart-stopping as the melodic sound of Starfire calling your name. You don’t have the courage to turn around and face either of them, but you come to a standstill and wait apprehensively for her to continue.

“Do you wish to take a bath before bed?” The playfulness in her tone is subtle, but undeniable. “If so, we would not want for you to drown in it. Perhaps you would appreciate our assistance.”

<3

Likes are highly appreciated, but comments and reblogs are cherished!

More Like This | Tip/Commission Me

[traumadumpwriter]

Relapse and a Half - Six

JJ Maybank X Pogue!Reader

Summary: The Pogues feel betrayed by the readers sudden relapse into drugs, but they re unable to be angry at her for too long as something terrible leaves her needing their support more than ever.

Trigger warning for: drugs (obviously), guns, explicit sexual assault, violence, trauma

Reblogging is allowed!

Masterlist - Part Seven

I’ve had so many people requesting this part so here it finally is! Thank you so much for any comment or like or any appreciation you’ve shown at all, it really does mean the world to me. I spent ages writing this part because I just couldn’t get it right but I think (I hope) I’ve finally done it. Reminder here that my inbox is open for requests and also just if you need someone to talk to. Hope you enjoy <3

Word count: 5.8k

Part 6

A month passed since that night at Barry's, and no one could've guessed that anything bad might've happened to you.

You'd gone back to your old job - tending at a run down bar - and had no seemingly no interest in any hard drugs. You'd spent most of your free time at the Chateau or alone with JJ; your obsession with each other an undying fire. And you'd even started doing yoga with Kie - making you feel better about your mind and body.

The bruises and scratches on your skin had faded and been replaced by JJ's kisses and light marks - the smallest patch of purple appearing on your ass after one passionately hard fuck. Noticing the bruise the morning after, JJ had frowned and gently stroked it.

"I'm sorry baby, I shouldn't have been so rough. I'll go gentler next time." He’d whispered.

"What are you talking about? Don't go gentler. Last night was.. incredible." You'd scoffed in response.

"But I left a bruise. Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

"JJ, I like being marked by you. Don't feel bad about that... in fact maybe we should go again."

JJ smirked at that, pulling his lip under his teeth.

"Right now?"

"When else?"

All in all, life had actually been pretty good for you despite the occasional crying night spent alone. That was the only time you'd ever reflect on what happened - when you were alone - and even then you were still in a state of denial about the severity of it. Logically, you knew what had happened was horrific and whatever JJ had seen had given him every right to be as angry as he was. But you still weren't ready to admit that to yourself - so you didn't.

When you cried, it wasn't because you felt like a used, damaged victim of an awful crime, it was because you felt like a dirty, slutty junkie for ever letting it happen. It certainly didn't help that your friends had gotten involved too, and though they'd mimicked you in acting mostly as if nothing had happened, you could sense the slight change. For instance, Kie hadn't ranted to you about the micro-aggressions committed by men for a hot minute. Pope had brought around sandwiches and cookies to your house - much to the delight of your mother who absolutely adored the lad. John B was seemingly counting your drinks anytime you all decided to party, cutting you off anytime you got close to being sloppy which never used to bother him. And JJ... you couldn't tell if he was acting different now because he was "openly in love with you" as he said, or if it was because he thought you needed protecting.

Nonetheless, you were able to sweep all of this under the rug and forget about it most of the time. You lived your life as usual and focused on staying clean.

That was until you saw Rafe at the Boneyard.

The night had started pretty averagely, pre-drinking at the Chateau and then dancing with Kie by the fire whilst the boys congregated with other delinquents. The only dancing being done by the male trio was from John B trying to make moves on some touron - which the rest of the Pogues were amusedly watching from afar. JJ was - as usual - placing bets on stupid things with any other thrill seeker he could find - such as who could finish a keg first or hold their hand in fire the longest, whilst Pope tried to convince him to stop being an idiot - unsuccessfully of course.

You enjoyed nights like these, being in close proximity to your closest friends but with some space between you. It was a nice change to the cramped, sometimes overbearing nights at the Chateau. You knew that Kie felt the same way.

"Do you think John B's gonna get lucky? That girl does not look impressed." She mused, her fingers intertwined with yours as you rocked together.

"I'm fifty-fifty. She doesn't look impressed but she hasn't left his side. Maybe the dancing is just confusing her."

"It is pretty confusing. Like a bird trying to pull off a mating ritual or something but can't quite remember how to do it."

"Now you've said it - I totally see that. He's like a giant bird." You giggled in agreement. "With those long legs he's got to be a flamingo, right?”

"I'd say so. And Pope is a turtle."

"I see that too. I think that JJ might be a big cat of some sort, you know? Like maybe a tiger."

"Yeah right. The boy is an excitable menace, not an agile predator." Kie scoffed.

"So what is he? A dog?"

"You said it, not me."

You both laughed at that and eventually came to the conclusion that he was in fact a husky, drunkenly twirling and swaying as you spoke. A girl - much drunker than you - accidentally bumped into you causing you to look up from Kie as you held out a hand to catch her. She bashfully smiled and apologised before rushing away - clearly a few years younger - and you thought about following her to make sure she was okay before you were distracted by the sensation of someone's eyes on you.

At first, you thought it might be JJ trying to get your attention from across the party, but he was some feet away and no longer illuminated by the fire - arguing with some guy in the ocean about who could swim faster. The eyes on you were a similiar shade to his, but they were rounder and darker, and the person they belonged to was taller and a lot scarier. If anyone were to be a predatory cat, it would be him.

Rafe Cameron had a smug grin on his lips as he ran his eyes along you, intentionally staring with the aim to let you know that he was there. Your breath caught in your throat as soon as you registered the unfriendly gaze and, like a deer in headlights, you froze.

You'd managed to forget what JJ had said about Rafe being at Barry's almost entirely, in fact you'd practically forced yourself to forget about the Cameron's existence. In the time that you'd spent crying by yourself, you'd been so distracted by all the other things you were stressed about that you hadn't even thought about what Rafe had to do with the whole thing. What he might've done.

The second your eyes locked with his though, a barrage of anxiety hit you and you suddenly found yourself with a month's worth of worries about the man. He seemed to sense your discomfort, his eyebrow raising questioningly and his grin widening. Luckily, Kie also sensed it and it only took her a second to figure out the reason why.

"That fucking asshole." She muttered under her breath before squeezing your hand lightly. "We should leave. I'll go get the boys."

"No!" You quickly objected, feeling a sudden rush of panic at the thought of confessing to the Pogues that you did in fact feel uncomfortable around Rafe Cameron.

Before that night, he never would have scared you from anywhere. You wouldn't have even afforded him a second glance unless it was to insult him. You couldn't change that now - not when the reasoning would be so clear. Kie shot you a confused look.

"It's fine. He's just a stupid Kook. Let's not let our night be ruined because of him."

She looked uncertain but didn't argue, nodding slowly with knitted brows. Perhaps if she'd been more sober she would've thought to question you, but she'd gone the last month without pushing you for answers and you seemed to be doing fine, so she decided that she wouldn't start now - especially when you had been having such a fun night.

Instead, the pair of you shifted away from the centre of the space and moved your dancing to the edge of the crowd, losing John B from your eye-lines but gaining the drinks table.

"I'm gonna go refresh. You want any?" You asked Kie and she nodded with a grateful smile, though still uncertainly.

When you got to the makeshift bar, you instantly poured yourself a shot and quickly drank it down before grabbing two beers from the cool box - who they actually belonged to being a mystery that you didn't care to solve. The Pogues had been weird about you drinking any spirits, so you decided to use the opportunity of being alone to quickly do another shot before anyone could stop you.

As you continued dancing with Kie, you both drank the beer and soon you'd forgotten about Rafe's unsettling gaze as rapidly as you'd felt it. That bliss was short lived though, a wide eyed Pope and a raging JJ suddenly at your side.

"We should go." Pope had managed to pant out before JJ started his rant.

"That motherfucker is here. And he won't stop staring at you. I'm gonna fucking kill him. Look- he's doing it now. I swear he's doing it on purpose. Where the fuck is John B?" He seethed.

"Woah, woah. Calm down babe." You said softly, lacing your arms around his shoulders and pulling him close to you.

You could feel the heat of his breath against your lips, fast and agitated, and though it slowed slightly from your touch, it was still laced with palpable venom.

"He's a piece of shit, Y/N. I should've killed him when I had the chance."

You knew that you should've been taking JJ's anger more seriously, but through the fog of mixed alcohol he just looked too handsome for you to focus on anything else. All you wanted to do was kiss him. You would just quickly sweep this Rafe drama under the rug and spend the night attached to JJ. That was the best way to deal with things.

"Well you in jail wouldn't do anyone any good, would it? Come on. Don't let some stupid Kook ruin the night. Why don't we go smoke a blunt and see if he's still here when we're finished? If he is then we can leave." You smiled, sounding far more condescending through your slurring than you realised.

JJ's face morphed into the same one of perplexity that Kie's had displayed twenty minutes prior, almost offended by your blasé attitude. He exhaled heavily out of his nose as he bit his tongue. Also like Kie, he was uncertain as to how to handle the ignorance you were feigning but knew that he didn't want to make you unhappy. If you wanted to stay he supposed that he would have to, after all you were right in saying that Rafe was just a stupid Kook. Maybe giving him a reaction would be letting him win.

"Okay, okay. Let's go smoke." JJ huffed, much to the surprise of Kie and Pope.

You grinned and planted a kiss on his lips which he gladly returned, his rage evaporating against the sweetness of your skin. He interlaced his fingers with yours and strolled towards the Twinkie, smiling as he listened to you joke about John B's dance moves, not relaxed enough to say anything himself but glad that you were happy.

Kie and Pope joined you, still not used to JJ being so calm and doting and finding it amusing.

"Who could've known that all JJ needed was a girlfriend to finally chill out a bit." Pope chuckled, and Kie added "It's been a long time coming."

They were only a foot behind but you and JJ didn't hear their observations, too enamoured with each other to pay attention to anything else. You piled into the Twinkie and grabbed the weed from under one of the seats, chucking it to Kie to roll as you all casually conversed.

"Do you think we should go get John B? He might want some." You asked.

"Nah. He's having a good time macking on with that touron. Wouldn't wanna stop my man from doing what he does best." JJ smirked in response, earning an eye roll from everyone else.

"If that's what he does best then there is a serious skill issue going on." Pope scoffed, which you all laughed at.

By time the blunt was finished, everyone had practically forgotten the reason they'd decided to smoke in the first place, heading back to the party with red eyes and big smiles. You were extremely relieved by this, asserting to yourself that pretending nothing had happened was the best way to deal with things.

Before you could get close to the fire though, a familiar voice came from behind you all - laced with its characteristic mocking chime.

"You really fucked up Barry's face, you know?" Rafe chuckled.

You gasped and turned around.

Topper was stood beside him, arms crossed and grinning at you whilst Rafe was looking at JJ with a gleam of trouble in his eyes. You knew that things could be about to get seriously bad. Nervously, you gripped your boyfriends hand and prayed that it would be enough to stop him from attacking one of the lads.

"I mean it's still messed up now. Good on you, man." Rafe continued.

"What the hell do you want?" JJ hissed venomously.

"Just saying congrats. He's at his now if you wanna go for round two. I was just there." He smirked and then looked at you. "I know he'd be up for another round."

JJ's hand effortlessly slipped from yours and pushed out in front of him, shoving Rafe in the chest hard and closing the space between them. You stepped forward and reached for JJ, not wanting this fight to happen, but he ignored your touch.

"You don't fucking talk to her." He barked into Rafe's face. "I should've messed up your shit too."

Rafe shoved him back, though not as hard, his face still bright with amusement and pupils wide with intoxication.

"Hey, hey chill out. It's a compliment, bro. Your girl's got a great rack, can you blame him?" He chuckled, sending you a wink.

All within a few seconds - you instinctively moved your arms to cover yourself, Kie protectively moved to your side with a vicious glare and JJ launched his fist at Rafe. The taller boy had been expecting the blow and caught it. He gave a smug grin before sending a hard punch of his own.

"JJ!" You cried out, watching him stumble backwards and then deflect a sudden hit from Topper.

Pope jumped in, flying at Topper and sending him to the ground where the two started a serious brawl - much to yours and Kie's horror. JJ continued to go for Rafe - who still looked very pleased with himself - whilst you stood frozen to the spot, fear and dread running through you. Kie rushed over to Pope, trying to pull Topper off him, then Rafe threw JJ to the ground and looked at you, his lips curled up into a smug snarl.

"And the cutest, little pussy too. No wonder you've got this punk so whipped, huh?"

So he had seen.. everything. One of the worst people you'd ever met had seen your entire body and you remembered none of it. And now he was clearly relishing in the memory of it; holding it over you and mocking your boyfriend with it.

You felt sick at the realisation, a deep crack forming in your wall of denial. More than anything though, you felt humiliated, the feeling only getting worse as a crowd started to form around the chaos. JJ was getting his ass kicked by Rafe but showed no signs of slowing, his rage entirely visible to anyone. He was landing a few good punches, but Rafe was bigger than him and able to harness the effortless violence of being a sociopath. JJ was just blinded by rage.

You called out his name again but your voice was hardly noticeable over the jeering of the crowd, and then there was a shout and things suddenly got even louder. John B had launched himself through the commotion and was on top of Rafe, his arms putting him into a tight chokehold and finally giving JJ the upper hand. He struggled against John B's grip as JJ delivered a barrage of hits to his torso, winding him and causing him to splutter out a tight breath. Then you turned and saw Topper throwing Kie to the ground, quickly being punished by Pope and a displeased group of Pogues for his action. Naturally though, as more Pogues joined the fight so did more Kooks, and soon it was complete chaos.

You rushed to Kie's side, your body moving out of pure instinct as your mind still felt frozen in shock and fright. You didn't even hear yourself ask if she was okay, but you must've as she responded with a sharp 'yes' before sitting herself up. She took a second to collect herself, looking around in confusion until it all became clear and then gasping.

"We need to get out of here." She said, looking at you with wide eyes. "Cops have probably already been called."

You nodded, helping to pull her up before trying to make your way into the chaos again, squeezing past people until you saw JJ's furious face; he and John B still focusing on Rafe despite the other Kooks that had gotten involved. Kie had disappeared between shouting bodies, presumably to get Pope, and you knew that you would have get the two other boys away from the fight by yourself.

You shouted their names but it made no difference, only when you threw yourself into the centre did they finally notice you, halting John B but not JJ.

"We need to go!" You shouted, the sound of a siren echoing in the distance just on cue.

The crowd quickly thinned out at that, but JJ and Rafe continued, ignoring the warnings from their friends around them. It took Topper and John B pulling them off each other to stop, and by that point there were red and blue lights flashing in the not too far off distance. The familiar colours seemed to snap JJ out of his trance. He looked at you, his face bloody and bruised, grabbed your hand, his knuckles also bloody and bruised, and ran.

It felt like you were all in the back of the Twinkie and speeding to the Chateau within seconds, throwing yourselves into the backseats as John B stepped on the gas before the door was even shut. You all took a moment to catch your breaths before speaking, surprising yourself by being the first one to break the quiet as the words erupted out of you.

"What the fuck was that? You could've gotten yourself arrested or seriously hurt!" You hissed at JJ.

He scoffed, his face unamused.

"Would've been worth it."

"Worth it for what? To feel like you have something over a Kook?"

"Did you not hear what he fucking said about you!" His voice raised but you were quick to match it.

"You overreacted! You ruined tonight with your ego - like you always do!”

"Oh I ruined it? Not the fucking creep who wanted to rape you."

"Shut the fuck up, JJ!" You loudly snapped but then Kie spoke, her tone incredulous, and caught you off guard.

"Yeah sorry to interrupt but I don't know how you expected him to not react like that. Rafe was bragging about seeing you naked to multiple people. I mean are you really okay with that?"

You blinked a couple of times before answering, attempting to collect your thoughts into a legible argument and then disprove her point.

"It doesn't matter. He was lying. He just wants a reaction out of us. And you gave him one!"

JJ scoffed at your answer, mentally thanking Kie for being the one to initiate the real conversation that needed to be had.

"Fuck a reaction, Y/N, he wasn't lying! He was there that night at Barry's and I know he would've hurt you too if I hadn't been there. I told you that!" He hissed. "I should've killed him!"

"But he didn't-"

"Look I'm sorry Y/N, but while we're on the subject, are we going to speak about that at all?" Kie cut you off, her voice fraught with stress. "I know we've all been acting like nothing happened for the past month but I think we need to address it."

You looked at her in shock, not quite believing the words coming out of her mouth. Your plan of pretending that nothing had happened hadn't worked? And your friend wanted to address it? You defensively opened your mouth but nothing came out, and then Pope jumped in unexpectedly.

"Yeah like, one minute we were at gunpoint thinking you might've drowned in the marsh, the next you were half dressed and not even able to walk, hardly able to talk. It was scary."

"It was messed up." John B agreed from the front seat.

All four of your best friends having something to say had stunned you entirely, a lump building in your throat and a weight in your chest. So your plan was definitely not going to work any longer - nor had it ever really worked in the first place. In fact, it might've made things worse. You looked around at their solemn faces nervously, feeling embarrassed and guilty.

"I- I- It was stupid. I shouldn't have been there. I'm sorry, okay?" You stammered, earning an exasperated groan from JJ.

"No you're not getting it! You shouldn't be apologising, you should be angry at them for daring to take advantage of you like that!" He exclaimed. "Imagine if they'd done that to Kie. Imagine if Kie drank too much and passed out and some guy took that as an opportunity to have sex with her! How would you feel then?"

You thought of what Rafe had said on the beach about your body - how violated it had made you feel. Then you thought of the confusion that you'd felt in the bath the morning after the incident had happened and how much your body had hurt. You thought of the snippets of memory you had from the actual assault; the invasive feeling of Barry inside of you and the pain that he'd gleefully put your body through, and you visualised Rafe being present to witness that - his sharp teeth bared in a smug grin as he took in your soiled body. It was all so dehumanising.

The thought of Kie experiencing any of that made you angrier than you cared to admit, and you hung your head in shame, suddenly understanding your friend's desire to get justice but still feeling too small to want your own.

"Okay. You're right. What happened was.. bad. It was wrong what they did to me, it shouldn't have happened." You conceded. "But can we just drop it? I want to forget anything ever happened."

"No, we can't just drop it! That's what we've been doing for the past month and that time is up!" JJ exclaimed. "Especially not after tonight. Did you not hear what Rafe said about you?"

His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared, rage visibly filling him up again as it had before the fight. But this time you didn't dare to calm him down.

"And he said it with a grin, right to my face! You expect me to just let him get away with that? Jesus! Just drop it. Like the asshole didn't just say all that shit to me - to you! Do you have no fucking respect for yourself or something?"

He was shouting at this point, his hands moving in exaggerated movements, and you were looking up at him feeling nothing but a strange sense of betrayal.

"Respect?" You repeated dryly. "You think I don't respect myself? Because I don't want you getting arrested?"

"See and now you're doing this on purpose, you're trying to change the conversation! You said he raped you twice! I mean, why the fuck did you even have to go there in the first place? Why the fuck couldn't you just stay clean? And the way you're acting now- I can't fucking deal with this shit. It's like you wanted something bad to happen to you-"

"Woah! That's way fucking out of line." Kie cut him off with a sharp hiss and soon they were arguing, all whilst you felt yourself getting slowly smaller and smaller inside of your body.

The shame had enveloped you wholly and you found yourself disassociating, viewing it all from a third person perspective instead of your own. The third person memories from that night at Barry's started to make sense now - you realised it was what your brain did when it couldn't bare to be physically present in the situation. You could see the wide mouths and bared teeth of Kiara and JJ, and feel the vibration of their shouting. You could even see Pope anxiously leaning over in fear of Kiara drunkenly hitting JJ, whilst John B listened intensely, eyes focused on the fast flying roads.

Only when the van parked and the doors flung open, JJ catapulting himself out, did you snap out of your trance. The noises became words again and the faces became people.

"I'm just saying you're not helping anything by saying shit like that!" Kie was close behind JJ, still clearly very heated whilst you and Pope slowly moved out of the back.

"Nothing I say seems to help. So stay the fuck out of my business!"

"Your business?"

"Are you okay?" John B appeared next to you with a concerned expression, bruises too forming on his face. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder but then retracted it upon seeing your uncomfortable expression.

"I'm fine." You answered, struggling to keep your voice flat. "I think I'm just gonna go home-"

"No! Don't leave, Y/N." Pope interrupted you and as you looked at him you realised that he had really taken a beating. It only made your chest ache more. "We- We didn't want to upset you. We just care about you. And JJ is.. drunk. You know how he gets. You can calm him down and then it'll all be alright-"

"I'm going home." You repeated sterner, eyes hovering over to the confrontation for a moment before turning away.

Their voices followed you but you ignored them, jumping on your bike and leaving. The wall of denial you'd managed to build was crashing down and you were now having to wade through the truth - poisonous flashbacks engulfing your field of view. Barry's hands, his cock, his mouth. Rafe's words, his gaze, his smile.

And not only did you have to deal with that truth, but there was also now the revolting revelation that the trauma hadn't just affected you, but your friends too. It took every part of you to stop yourself from imagining what they'd seen - how it had affected their view of you.

And then there was also what JJ had said in the Twinkie. How harsh it had been. How it seemed like maybe after all, he did blame you. And you weren't even sure if he was wrong for that.

With a panicked breath, you shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut for a second, desperately bringing yourself back to reality in a forced snap. You were lucky that you knew these roads so well, even in the dark.

The shouting of your friends had faded out into the distance now and there was an eery quiet, the squeaking of your wheels being the only sound other than the light wind.

You dipped your head and pedalled harder, trying to outrun the way your throat was tightening, the way your stomach turned every time JJ's voice replayed in your head; "Why the fuck couldn't you just stay clean?"

It only seemed to get louder, and then there was the noise of a motorbike behind you. Someone was following you - probably JJ - and so you started to pedal even harder, unable to bare his face. You were still drunk though, and your foot slipped, and then before you knew it you were on the ground, the bike on top of you and your side hurting.

You lay there for a moment, confused, distracted from everything, and it actually felt nice. An unexpected break in which all you felt was mild shock and confusion. But then you heard the motorbike again and became re-aware of your surroundings.

And it filled your body with despair.

A long, loud sob left your lungs - unlike any you'd ever released in front of anyone before - and then shorter copies continued to roll out, shaking your whole being as each one fell.

"Y/N! Shit. Are you hurt?" John B's voice came with the silence of the motor and he was quickly by your side, throwing the bike off you and bending down beside you.

You couldn't speak, shaking and choking on pain filled sobs. John B paused for a moment, trying to think of what he could say, before giving up and pulling you into a tight hug, relieved when you accepted it. He gently cooed as you cried into his chest, rocking side to side slightly in a desperate bid to soothe you.

"I'm sorry this happened, Y/N." He whispered, swallowing a hard lump in his throat.

There were no other words spoken for a short while, just your aching sobs. It hurt him to listen to and did nothing to quell the burning desire he had to hurt Rafe and Barry. He was at least able to keep that under control. After some time, your sobs eventually did die down and you were able to speak, lifting your head from John B's chest and wiping your eyes with your hands.

"I'm sorry." You choked out.

He looked at you with sorrow, his brows lifted and his eyes wide "Please stop apologising."

"I-I shouldn't have relapsed. I don't even want to be clean r-right now." You confessed, your voice shaking. Now that you had started you couldn’t stop though. It spilled out of you. "If JJ hadn't beat Barry up, I would be there getting high right now... A-And I know that's like- so fucked up, okay? I know that what he did- what-whatever the fuck happened- I know it was bad. But.. I deserved it."

"You didn't deserve it. How do we get this through your head?" John B sighed softly. "That's why JJ's so upset- he didn't mean all of that shit he said."

"Even if I somehow didn't ask for it- I've dragged you all into it and traumatised everyone with my bullshit. I just fucking hate it. I feel so humiliated. I wish you guys would just let things go."

John B put his hands on your shoulders and looked at you with sudden seriousness, his tone still soft but with an assertive edge.

"Why do you feel humiliated though? Because of them. Because of what they did." He held your gaze intensely. “You're not the one who should feel like that- they should. Imagine if it was Kie. You'd want to fucking kill them too."

"I know, I just- I don't know... It's all so much. I feel like I was kind of living in a world where it hadn't actually happened- until tonight. Now it's real and I... I feel... I don't know what I feel. It's like this horrible dread but.. it's already happened so what am I dreading?"

John B sighed again, feeling crushed by the weight of your question. He wished that he could do anything to take your pain away, but he couldn’t even think of the right words to quell you in one moment. He pulled you back into a hug.

"I don't know, but it's all gonna be alright. You've got us no matter what, the only reason any of us ever get mad at each other is because we care. And JJ cares the most and that's why he's always the maddest.”

"You think that's why he's such a hot head?" You scoffed with a weak sniffle, finally catching your breath.

"Yeah. I know it is. Trust me, I’ve known him forever.” John B answered. “And he is so in love with you, like- crazy in love with you… It just sucks that.. this is how you two finally fessed up. And he’s all like- fucked up over it and being a dick, but he doesn’t mean it.”

You nodded and agreed quietly “I know, it does suck.”

And then you both stood in comfortable silence for a short moment, your head finally calming down and your body no longer shaking. John B eventually broke the silence with a gentle question.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come back?”

You thought about it, considering what you would be coming back to. Kie and JJ were both unlikely to drop the subject, drunk and as stubborn as two mules. Even after they stopped arguing - if they did - you knew that the two of them would be talking about it for hours, making sly comments and jabs. Now that it had finally been brought up, maybe you did all need to talk about it for hours - calmly and maturely.

But you couldn’t do that. Not yet.

“Yeah I’m sure.” You answered, pulling away from his chest and then realising how wet you’d gotten his top. “Sorry about all the snot man.”

You both chuckled lightly at that.

“It’s cool, I’ll just wash it. Not like JJ hasn’t snot-rocketed on me more than a million times.”

“You’re both so gross for that.” You mused, having seen John B do it back to him just as many times.

He cracked a small smile, his heart rate finally slowing down.

“Yeah we are... Here look, I’ll drive you back now and pick up your bike on the way back, but you’ve got to promise me you’re not gonna do anything stupid to yourself.”

“Of course I’m not going to.” You almost sounded offended, then looked to your bike. “And what you’re just gonna leave my bike here while we’re gone?”

“Okay well I just had to check, these things aren’t always so obvious with you. And no one is going to steal that piece of shit bike. I’ll be ten minutes tops.”

With a light huff you gave in and soon you were on the back of JJ’s motorbike, racing to your house. When you arrived, you and John B both hugged tightly. He reminded you that he loved you and you said the same, then he sped back off into the night, certain to spend the next few hours deescalating conflict.

You watched him ride away, immensely grateful to have such a good friend. But when you stepped into your house, empty and dark, you remembered why you were there alone. The things that had happened as a direct result of you deciding to relapse and how much it had hurt the people around you.

And yet you still found yourself scrolling through your phone contacts, trying to work out if there was anyone you knew who could get you some pills.

Ahhh I really hope u all enjoyed! Let me know! <3

[fatliberation]

If its ok to ask; how do you feel about fat kinks? I havent seen any fat acceptance blogs talk abt it. /genq

I know it's a sore spot for a lot of fat liberationists (and yes, I'm quite familiar with why so please do not take to my inbox), I think people are scared to talk about it. personally, I think it is crucial that people with fat kinks are able to access fat liberation spaces so long as they leave the kink at the door. I say this not only because the majority of them are fat people, but because that community is steeped in a deep shame and feeling of brokenness for taking delight in fatness and/or weight gain, which perpetuates rampant fatphobia. and fat liberation is what will heal those wounds. I don't understand it when fat activists tell kinksters/fetishists/feedists, whatever you want to call them to stay out of the fat liberation movement. because what is the alternative? do you want them against the movement? that doesn't make sense at all. I think people are so uncomfortable, disgusted, or afraid of this community they don't understand, that they just wish they wouldn't exist. they aren't going away. kink is akin to sexuality, to identity, to queerness. I think what people really mean when they say feedists should stay out of fat lib is, "kink should stay within spaces designated for kink." we aren't talking about kink when it comes to who can belong in a movement, we are talking about people. it is wrong to equate every person who has a kink or a fetish to a predator. it causes very real harm to those people, because they internalize that message that their kink makes them a bad person who is inherently worthless, who has to hide. if feedists aren't welcome in fat liberation, they aren't welcome anywhere.

I think that people who love fat people, love feeding people, love their own fat bodies, who see their fattest selves as their most satisfying selves, would be natural allies to this movement once they find their way to it and feel safe and accepted here. I want to make it absolutely clear that ANYONE is welcome on this blog as long as they aren't harassing or harming anyone. so many of my followers and biggest supporters are kink blogs. some of my closest friends and fat liberationist allies are feedists. I know feedists who are way more educated and passionate about fat lib and body politics than most people I've met. I don’t wish for anyone to feel alienated on my blog - especially fellow fat folks and fellow fat allies. we are 100% FAT POSITIVE AND SEX POSITIVE on this blog, babey‼️

In fact I feel really glad when I see fat kink/feedism blogs engaging with my content bc it means that person is putting the work in to understand systemic fatphobia, how to be an ally to fat people (if they aren't fat themselves), but also healing their community through education and acceptance. and HOT TAKE, BUT: when it does happen?? when feedists aren't shrouded in internalized fatphobia, shame, and isolation, and instead start embracing this innate, powerful appreciation for fatness, it's literally so fucking beautiful? and so very queer?

choosing to gain weight on purpose as an act of self creation. because it feels Right for you. gaining weight to affirm the relationship you have with your body. getting fatter because you feel so much of your identity (even gender presentation!) is attached to your fat body. feeling sexiest when you're fat. someone else worshipping that about you. giving unlimited permission to nourish yourself and/or others - and taking carnal delight in it. releasing food rules and food guilt through centering pleasure. food and fatness as an erotic and sensory experience. finding feedist partners who also have this ingrained love of fatness that can't be replicated, partners who are willing and eager to support and adore your fat body, NOT merely tolerate it. reclaiming tropes used against you through kink, and turning a loving gaze inward. saying "fuck you" to the system and choosing to take up more space in a world that consistently tries to shrink you. never denying yourself pleasure even though everyone is telling you you don't deserve it. feedism is such an interesting facet of the endless spectrum of human sexuality and I think that once people in that community find liberation and heal their relationship to the kink, it can be one of the most radical forms of self acceptance and exercising complete bodily autonomy.

I already know that a love letter to feedism coming from a fat lib blog is gonna piss people off. I'm going to lose a lot of followers, I'm going to get a lot of hate. but. kink in general is SO demonized and SO misunderstood and as liberationists we should also be open to sexual liberation. so much of this discomfort around feedism comes from a lack of education and understanding about kink in general. feedism doesn't = fatphobia in the same way that bdsm doesn't = misogyny or abuse. quite the contrary, if practiced ethically, with informed consent. every community has assholes. especially when those communities are small, ostracized, and so young that there are next to zero resources for self acceptance, safety, education, and accountability. in fact, the assholes are the ones that you're going to SEE because every respectful person is staying away and out of your business. if you've been harassed by someone with a fat kink, that is so shitty and I'm sorry that happened to you. I know it happens a lot. try to remember that what you experienced was abuse, not kink.

what consenting individuals choose to do with their bodies is entirely their business and there is nothing wrong with kink. (and I will not stand for sex-negative, puritan bullshit in my inbox, thank you very much.)

reminder: fat pleasure is fat liberation.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 49!

oh, how time flies... i can't believe the end of the year is this close already! not a massive fan of that, not gonna lie, but i am a fan of all of these fics, so let's focus on that, shall we?

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

built a house in the middle of your chest | LongConvolutedSimiles | 5.3k | M

Five times Buck and Eddie touch platonically plus one time they realise it's not platonic at all. i do love a good platonic-to-not-platonic-touching type fic and this hit the spot so perfectly <3

carpe diem | writingcap/@gibuckaroo | 2.6k | GA

Eddie rests his head on Buck’s shoulder and he lets himself follow. eddie's love language might be physical touch but my love language is reading about physical touch <3 so good!!

everything is fine (everything is perfect) | Kwills91/@kwills91| 4.1k | GA

Buck gets sick and Eddie takes care of him. Then Eddie bares his soul and Buck takes care of him. Because that's what they do. because that's what they do!! i love how they take care of each other here, written so perfectly <3

hen wilson's four part guide to making your stupid friends date | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 25k | M

When Buck and Eddie aren't speaking, Hen decides to take matters into her own hands. outsider pov!! hen wilson!! buddie being idiots in love!! what else could a girl (me) want (nothing) <3

i can tell just what you want (you don't want to be alone) | Talls/@tallsinspace | 12.6k | E

In which Eddie keeps secrets and Buck is incredibly normal and rational and even brave about his reaction to this. buck being so normal and rational and brave is my absolute favourite <3 love his inner dialogue here!

i don't swim and you're not in love | hattalove/@hattalove | 32.4k | T

eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly. blanket rec for an author whose work i've really been loving this week <3 been making my way through hattalove's entire profile and having such a good time. this one in particular has such a delightful buck and such lovely buddie and all of the yearning!!

i have had enough of crime | lamardeuse/@lamardeuse | 8.1k | T

Josh's view of Eddie's journey in 8A and beyond through the gay Olympic sport of competitive brunching. this fic captures josh so so perfectly and the josh & eddie dynamic is just brilliant <3

i should be pushing daisies | 42hrb/@exhuastedpigeon | 5.5k | T

Eddie goes to Texas to fix things with Chris and Buck pines. pining buck <3 this is such a brilliant character study and i love it so very much!!

practice makes perfect | greenbergsays/@greenbergsays | 6.5k | E

When the subject of Buck 1.0 arises, Buck worries that the reminder will make Eddie rethink their relationship. Eddie reassures him. oh my this is such a perfect way of buck 1.0 coming up in buddie fics... genuinely unmatched i saw the ao3 email in my inbox and audibly gasped. so good!!

properly | EiraLloyd/@unlifeira | 3.9k | T

“’ve got it, Eds,” someone murmured close to his ear in a way that made him shiver, and oh, that was Buck’s voice. Eddie would know him anywhere. This time, his questioning noise sounded a little more like a hum. “‘ve got it,” Buck repeated, attempting to truly drive in the message. “Y’can sleep in.” this is the loveliest mutual pining/sharing a bed/misunderstandings fic ever <3 honestly everything this author writes is just incredible, i know i'm in good hands when i see her name pop up

somethings said (to turn you inside out) | taegyungie | 12.2k | E

Buck catches Eddie on Grindr and now he can't stop thinking about it. i need ALL of the buck and eddie on grindr fics honestly they always hit the spot <3 this is hot and perfect and so so good!!

the arms of the ocean | anatargmova/@anatargmova | 9.7k | T

after Christopher leaves with his grandparents, Buck notices just how much touch-starved Eddie is — and decides to fix it. listen okay we all know by now how much i love a fic about touch starvation. however what you might not know is that i especially love a fic about touch-starved eddie. and this one has exactly that, but is also buck POV, which is just incredibly well-written and so soft and lovely and feels like a hug <3

trade all my tomorrows | ipretendtobesane/@userbuddie | 74k | E

Buck’s the god of love and was cursed to never fall for anyone, Eddie’s just trying to explore his newfound queerness with someone he trusts, striking up a friends with benefits agreement is the perfect arrangement. this is hands down the most beautiful fic i've read in a long long time. it's so well-written, so fleshed-out, just so good! i'll be rereading this many many times, i just know it <3

[zyart-jpg]

just realized I had put in myself as anon (I was the one who requested the wooin with a hard to please reader) when I asked to tag me when u wrote yellow part two. 💔mb! now u have my user so u could tag me.

(ps. apologies for having to send two requests again!)

a/n: sorry this took so long for me to do, my inbox is full of mixed messages and request i have to clean it up! here's a little something from me since i still haven't finished the part 2 of yellow :>

"Grease And Games"

Pairing: Wooin Yoo x Reader

Summary: You've always said no, until one greaseful day.

Tags: Fluff, Flirting, Get-together (sorta), Reader is part of Sabbath

Women had always been easy for him.

A smile. A compliment. A flash of charm laced with just enough bad intentions to make it exciting. Maybe a little flex here, a quick brush of his fingers there—and boom. 

Hook, line, and sunk.

It wasn’t strategy. It was just something he did, the way someone breathes. Natural. Unthinking. Always worked.

So why the fuck is it not working now?

“No, I don’t wanna go on a date with you, Wooin.” 

You didn’t even spare him a glance. Knees tucked under you, hands working methodically as you tightened a nut on the front fork of your fixie. Grease smudged your cheek, your sleeves were rolled to the elbow, and your expression hadn’t changed once since he walked in and started talking.

Brutal.

“Geez,” he groaned, flopping dramatically onto the bench like a wounded poet. “Come on, sweets. Just a little drive. Sunset, top down, my music, your pretty face in the passenger seat. What’s not to like?”

“The fact that it’s you behind the wheel.” 

You didn’t even say it meanly. Just flat. Like it was a fact. Like saying the sky’s blue or coffee makes you anxious. You gave the wrench another twist. Clicked your tongue at it. Reached for a new bolt like he wasn’t even there.

“Cold,” he whistled, sitting up, elbows on knees. “You know, usually I get called dangerous in a fun, sexy way. You make it sound like a court order.”

You wiped your hands on a rag, finally glancing his way with the kind of look that could put out a fire. “I’m not interested, Wooin.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that. It’s cute.”

You gave him a dry look. “You’re used to girls tripping over themselves for you, huh?”

“Can’t lie.” He grinned, all teeth and mischief, leaning back with casual ease. “They don’t usually put up a fight. But hey, I like a little chase. Makes the win sweeter.”

“This isn’t a game,” you replied, turning back to your bike, voice steady and unbothered. “And I’m not something to be won.”

That made him pause.

Just for a second.

Wooin watched you, watched the way your fingers worked with precision, how you moved with confidence, not caring if your hair was a mess or your face had streaks of grime. You didn’t fidget. You didn’t try to impress. Like youreally didn’t need him to look at you.

It was infuriating.

And maybe—just maybe—a little bit exhilarating.

“…Damn,” he murmured, a slow smile spreading again. “Why is it even hotter when you’re mean to me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Get a new hobby.”

“I did,” he said, and winked. “You.”

You snorted, loud and unladylike. “Jesus Christ.”

“Look,” he said, suddenly leaning forward, voice dropping a little—smooth now, a little more real, just enough vulnerability at the edges to make it feel like a dare. “I’m not saying you have to fall in love with me or whatever—not yet.”

You rolled your eyes again.

“But maybe—just maybe—you’re wrong about me,” he added with a tilt of his head, dark eyes gleaming. “Maybe you’d like it. The drive, I mean.”

There was a beat.

Your wrench slowed.

And then—

“Nope.”

He actually laughed. Loud, delighted. He clutched his chest like you’d wounded him and slumped back onto the bench.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he groaned. “Absolutely murdering me.”

You huffed, finally looking up at him fully, chin tilted.

“Good. Then maybe you’ll shut up long enough for me to finish fixing my bike.”

God help him—he’d never wanted to kiss someone so bad.

You gave the pedal one last spin, satisfied with the alignment, and brushed the back of your hand over your forehead, smearing grease across your temple. The chain purred clean and smooth now—good enough for a test ride tomorrow. You stood, dusting your palms on your thighs, glancing at your work like it was a finished painting.

Wooin hadn’t moved.

Still slouched on the bench, watching you with the lazy interest of a man who’d just discovered his favorite show had a hundred more episodes. His own fixie leaned untouched against the garage wall, clearly neglected: bar tape fraying like a drunk raccoon got to it.

You nodded toward it, frowning. “That thing still rideable?”

He raised a brow. “Jealous of my beast?”

“I’m worried it’ll fall apart under you before you hit the first turn.”

“Aw, concerned about me now?” he grinned, sitting up as you walked over to his bike, inspecting it like it personally offended you.

You didn’t answer. Just crouched and ran a finger along the chain, held it up.

Black.

You looked at him, deadpan. “When’s the last time you oiled this?”

He shrugged, easy. “Dunno. 2 weeks?”

You blinked at him. “We have a race in three days.”

“I’ve got a lucky streak.”

“You’re gonna die, is what you’re gonna do.”

“And here you are, saving my life.” He leaned in a little, voice dropping. “Starting to feel like fate, huh?”

You stood and gave him a flat look. “No. It feels like I’m surrounded by idiots.”

He gave a dramatic gasp, hand on his chest again like you’d stabbed him in the heart. “You wound me, truly.”

You shook your head and grabbed a clean rag, already reaching for your tools again. “Sit down. I’m not letting you ride this piece of shit into a race.”

“Hold on,” he said, eyes lighting up, “are you fixing my bike right now? Is this your love language?”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

“Oh, I like it when you’re bossy.”

You glanced up, grease-smudged and exasperated. “Wooin.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever stop flirting?”

He thought about it for half a second. “Not when it’s working.”

“It’s not.”

You barely shot him a glance when you picked up the rag and started running it along his chain.

“You know,” you muttered, “you treat this thing like a party trick. You ever settle it after races?”

Wooin scoffed from his place on the bench. “Of course I do. I’m not a heathen. I just don’t overthink it like you do.”

“You don’t think at all.”

“Slander.” He leaned back lazily, watching you crouch beside the frame. “I built this thing with my own hands, you know.”

“Doesn’t mean you maintain it.”

“I do,” he said, slinking off the bench and plopping down beside you, too close again. “Just not with the same… sensual aggression.”

You snorted. “If by sensual you mean competent, then sure.”

He laughed, bumping his knee against yours lightly. “Look at you. All mean and greasy. I’m into it.”

“Into needing a tune-up?” you muttered, adjusting the tension. “Tires are underinflated too. How the hell do you sprint on this like a lunatic?”

“I am a lunatic,” he said proudly. “Plus it’s light enough, that’s all I need. Teaches discipline.”

“No brakes. It teaches recklessness.”

“Tomato, tomahto.”

You shook your head, sweat beading at your hairline. Your shirt clung a little, smudged at the collar. You wiped your forehead again and didn’t notice the streak it left across your temple.

He did.

Wooin had stopped talking.

You didn’t notice it at first—not until you paused, glanced to the side, and saw his eyes fixed on you, the playful gleam gone all at once.

Just looking, like he hadn’t really been before.

You blinked. “What?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Just leaned forward slowly, like the moment had shifted under both of you, and reached up to gently tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingers barely brushed your skin—grease on his thumb, but he didn’t seem to care as it traced along your cheekbone, slow and certain, like he’d done it a thousand times in his head.

“You got grease on your face,” he said quietly, but didn’t pull away.

You froze, gaze flicking to his. His voice had dropped—not teasing now. Just quiet. Real. A little too real.

The corner of his mouth tugged up, soft. “You always this good to the things you ride?”

You exhaled through your nose. “Don’t make that a metaphor.”

He didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smirk.

Just watched you, thumb still brushing lightly at your cheek, eyes softer now, slower.

“…What if we went for a ride? Bikes.” he said.

You barely looked up. “We are riding. The crew’s meeting at—”

“No.”

He shook his head slowly, something quieter threading into his voice. “Not Hyuk. Not Joker. Not the crew.”

You blinked.

He was watching you again—not with the usual smirk, not with that smug, full-of-himself glint in his eye. This look was... still. Focused. Like everything else in the garage had dropped away and only you were left, framed in warm light and engine grease.

“Just you and me,” he said, voice lower now. “Just… go. Wherever you want.”

The words didn’t land the way they should have.

Not slick. Not charming.

Just honest.

And it messed you up more than anything else he’d said all night.

You stared at him, caught off guard by the tone—by the stillness in him. The usual cocky swagger dialed down into something careful. Like he knew he was asking for more than a ride. Like he was giving you a way out, but hoping you wouldn’t take it.

“I know the city like the back of my hand,” he murmured. “But I wanna see where you’d take me.”

And just like that, something glitched.

Your chest stuttered. You felt the heat crawl up your neck before you could catch it, before you could shut it down. Your fingers went still against the frame. You didn’t speak. You didn’t move.

You just flushed—just a little. Just enough for him to notice.

Shit.

He caught it immediately. Didn’t say anything, didn’t tease—but his lips curved gently, softer than before. Still a smile, but not a smirk. Not this time.

And somehow, that was worse.

He was serious. Not performing. Not pushing.

Just waiting.

And maybe that’s what finally did it.

“…You better keep up,” you muttered, quieter than you meant to.

Wooin’s face lit up like a match. “Baby,” he grinned, eyes gleaming, “you won’t outrun me.”

You tried to roll your eyes. Really, you did. But the corners of your mouth betrayed you—tugging up against your will as your heart thumped a little too loud in your ears.

Because damn it.

You wanted to ride.

And for once… you didn’t mind if it was with him.

dividers from @anitalenia!

MASTERLIST

[iamnmbr3]

Thoughts on Drarry and post war relationship?

Like, with canon in mind, do you think that Harry would fall first, Draco would or it'd be at the same time?

And who do you think would act on those feelings first and how would the Wizarding world react to the great Harry Potter being in love with a Death Eater?

Because I always viewed Harry as someone that knows what he wants and won't shy away from it, whereas Draco might have a harder time with all of it due to the fact he is a Death Eater, and while I don't think there's actual evidence of it, I always thought he'd feel unworthy of forgiveness and love after the war, so I think that if Harry fell for him Draco would try to push him away.

Sorry it these are two many questions for just one convo but I'm curious on your thoughts

What an absolutely delightful ask! I love getting things like this in my inbox. Definitely not too many questions. Thanks for waiting till I had a chance to sit down and write out a proper answer.

I think it's quite possible that by partway through 7th year Draco was forced to come to terms with the fact that he has feelings for Harry Potter. Strong feelings. Once in a lifetime love feelings in fact. He's tried to run from it and he just can't anymore. Oh he's not foolish enough to think anything will ever come of it. Even if by some miracle they both survive the war he knows he ruined any chance of that long ago. But he does have to face the fact (which he's been hiding from for so long) that the feelings are there. (Meanwhile Harry's too busy compartmentalizing as hard as he can because he's got a war to fight).

And then the war ends and he goes right back to denial - trying to insist to himself that he's over it, he's moved on, he has. Because the alternative is too painful to deal with. Though when he meets Harry again - whether in 8th year or after - he can't help caring more than ever what Harry thinks of him. If they meet again many years later maybe Draco's even given up on trying to convince himself he'll ever be over Harry. He's in unrequited love with Harry Potter. It's just a fact of life, a tragic and painful condition he lives with (though he'd just die if anyone found out). Of course Harry would never want him but it's terribly important to him that Harry at least not think that he is who he used to be. He goes to great lengths to show Harry that he's changed because he needs Harry to know that much at least. Even though he knows it probably hardly matters because ultimately he's just a footnote in Harry's life. It's not like Harry thinks about him.

Harry, of course, thinks about Draco. A lot. Somehow in the aftermath of it all his mind keeps going back to Draco (and also their lives somehow keep intersecting) - returning the wand, thinking about how Draco saved him, maybe inexplicably missing the hawthorn wand a bit, speaking at Draco's trial, perhaps exchanges of letters in the aftermath. And beyond that. Harry can't help notice Draco anytime he's in his vicinity. Can't help reading and remembering any article about him. Can't help wondering what he's up to and making it his business to find out. And when they finally do start interacting regularly he can't help being struck by how much Draco has changed and how enjoyable he actually is to be around in a strange way, and how Draco no longer treats him badly but does still treat him as a person and not a mythical, nearly godlike figure.

Of course, this is not to say that I think they would just immediately fall into each other's arms while Harry quotes the best drarry metas at any doubters. I personally find it jarring and ooc when fics have Harry suddenly hate Draco postwar and be mad that he didn't go to Azkaban and have to be talked around by his friends who are somehow all besties with Draco while Harry is the outlier, because Harry never hated Draco even when he had the most cause to and felt more sympathy for him than others and even lied to obfuscate his crimes. So I don't think that makes sense.

But I also don't think it makes sense for Harry to just immediately act like besties with Draco postwar and start talking about him like he's swallowed a dozen tumblr metas. Because that doesn't feel true to life either. Yes they're drawn to each other. Yes postwar a lot of the barriers keeping them apart are gone. But it would still take time to get over the past contentiousness between them. Harry would need to see that Draco had changed. Especially if we're talking 8th year when emotions are still running high and all their wounds are fresh.

Or even later. I can see Harry initially being suspicious of Draco. I can see Draco caring way too much what Harry thinks of him but that emotion translating into him lashing out when that's the last thing he actually wants to do. Because that's what he tends to do when he's feeling vulnerable. I can see Harry being way too upset and disappointed if he thinks Draco might not have changed, while his friends wonder why he's taking it so personally. And I can see Harry, who is way more introspective than he often gets credit for, starting to think hard about his relationship with Draco and why what Draco does post-war matters to him quite so much.

He might tell himself he's investigating Draco for the safety of others, or even for Draco's own good so he doesn't waste the chance Harry gave him. But it's more than that. And if Harry realizes that Draco's in trouble somehow he's resolved to help. He's tired of the fight. And Draco feels the need to thank Harry somehow, to show him he's changed. Though he's also mystified about why Harry would speak up for him yet again, when he's already done so much. Except of course Harry would do that. Because he's just a good person like that isn't he? Draco was just too busy being jealous and spiteful over something he could never have to notice wasn't he? (It's way more than that of course; Draco has never been just another person to Harry).

Anyway they are always drawn to each other and they always find each other. In 8th year if they go back to Hogwarts or through letters or some other way otherwise. And however many years pass before it happens they both live rent free in each other's heads. Awkward and stilted conversations become less awkward over time and leads to joking that each finds surprisingly enjoyable and then more conversations and confidences and each finding it increasingly difficult to not notice how handsome the other is. And well, one thing leads to another. Harry's the first one to make a move because Draco would never. Even if he thinks the feeling is reciprocated he assumes it's just too impossible given who he is. It would ruin Harry's life.

Even once they get together Draco assumes this will have to be no more than a fling, a dirty shameful secret that Harry will probably regret someday. Harry's not buying that. He doesn't care what the public thinks and never has. And he tells Draco so.

When it inevitably eventually hits the press obviously a lot of the coverage is not kind. Eventually Harry starts to wonder if maybe Draco cares. And he actually pulls a Quibbler 2.0 and gives an interview and by the end of the week the public is obsessed with the epic story of 2 star crossed lovers. Of course, for some Draco's past can never be forgiven and Harry can never be forgiven for associating with him. But Harry doesn't care. He never asked people to look up to him in the first place.

Other people though are thrilled by the story of their epic romance. It's got rivals to lovers caught on the opposite sides of a war, it's got redemption, it's got drama, it's got heartbreak. What's not to like? Sure a lot of the details get mangled. But it works out alright in the end. And eventually as the years and decades go by it's just another story that was big in the day but is now just a fact of life.

[sl-walker]

Help a starving artist

Or, at least, one who is trying quite hard not to.

As people relatively close to me know, I lost my job last July. It was a shitty situation all around, but I survived on savings and unemployment. But frankly, having been a toilet scrubber for most of my life, I never had a huge amount of savings and now unemployment has run out; did last month, in fact. I've sent out well over a thousand applications. I've rejiggered my resume, asked people for letters of recommendation, wrote too many cover letters, etc. I was hired for a job in early January and did my drug test two weeks ago, but I still haven't heard back from that employer, so I'm now staring down the barrel of ah, as if I somehow forgot what terror and poverty felt like again. Delightful. 0/10, would not recommend, though honestly, a lot of people I know already know the feeling.

What can you do?

You can subscribe to my Substack as a paid subscriber. Not only do you get my hopefully entertaining writing in your inbox -- which is free to everyone anyway -- you also get to request things if you're a paid subscriber. If it's monthly, every three months you can request a sketch or a specific comic review or even a fanfic review for yourself or someone else (within reason, like under 10K words). If it's as a founding member, you can request something every single month in the same vein. (Believe me, you're getting a bargain on those requests.)

You can commission me for art. I'm a decent artist. My rate is $25 an hour and I am not swift at it, but I am pretty damn okay and certainly cheaper than a professional artist. To give you a rough idea, that half-body pic I did of Guy was about ten hours, where the one I did of Ted was more like 15. A really good portrait sketch is probably about an hour. The more detailed, the more time.

I might be talked into writing commissions, depending on the writing. You can absolutely talk to me about hiring me if you want me to write your cover letters, because it's a hateful task, but I'm not too bad at it.

I can design letterheads like a boss. I was a printer for over sixteen years.

If you just want to throw money at me, I mean-- who turns that down? (Though I tend to prefer to do something for it, which is probably more evidence than anyone actually needs for what kind of childhood I had. HA!) But my paypal is:

paypal.me/steelandfic

Current utility bills under the cut. Like-- that's not counting groceries, pet food, the roof over my head, the filling in my tooth that I'm waiting for the bill for or anything else. That's just utilities.

And if you can't do anything else, please consider signal-boosting? Thanks.

[sisterlucifergraphics]

hi! came across ur profile and i love your dividers!

i would be absolutely DELIGHTED if you did dividers based on the band Glass Animals. they could be based on album covers, songs, aesthetics, etc. anything GA themed would be awesome, i enjoy everything from the band, and i would love anything you come up with!

if you're interested in doing some, please take whatever creative freedom you'd like! ( ◠‿◠ ) their albums are pretty thematic, dreamland is vaporwave, ilysfm is space, etc. i think they might be fun to do.

thank you :) i hope you are having a good day whenever you read this!

please like, reblog, & credit if you use!

(PT: Please like, reblog, & credit if you use!)

[DIVIDER REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!]

(PT: Divider requests are closed!)

DNI: TERFS, endo, proship, pro ana, nazi, MAPs, zoophiles

tag list: @ghostboneswrites2 @savanaclaw1996 @bloodythornsandskulls @humancorps3 @imachaoticghost

@ribbed-scythe @idkwhatto-namethis @nothers @yourlocaltrasheater @anynomous268

@bunnyb0yy @blindweb @itzzzzzzyyyyydaaaaa @mast3rsw0rd @mia-can-yap-too

@weirdest-worlds @king-of-dumbasses @webmush

@dontspoilthis @inkyprince @lopsidedghoul

[if you'd like added or removed from the tag list for dividers, please leave a message in my inbox]

(PT: if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list for dividers, please leave a message in my inbox)

[starleska]

I keep reading and rereading all of the things in the lux/ring-a-ding x reader tag and I cannot help but think of my very own scenario/story…

This is unpolished and stream of consciousness so sorry if I do not make sense !!

I, along with a million other things, /love/ media archival and collection, right now all I’ve got is a handful of dvds and a few vhs tapes, but I’d love to go even older and collect some film cans! That is to say, imagine this:

A reader who is like me, they can’t get enough odd physical media and collect things from exercise videos to how to survive y2k guides. But one day they find something they’ve never found before: a 16mm film can in pristine condition! They get to trying to digitize it (another hobby I’d like to take up if I ever get the money to) and lo and behold it’s an old cartoon! As they watch and digitize at the same time they comment aloud about the cartoon and well… it begins to talk back! I just loved the scene where he spoke to the theatre and so a private conversation with similar vibes would be so fun… This idea can exist post episode or it can be a weird little Pocket Dimension au im unsure, but I’d love to write a few little drabbles that explore this dynamic…some day lol.

oh my gosh Mike, i'm so sorry this took so long to get back to!!! my inbox is simply drowning in Mr. Ring-A-Ding asks and has been for two solid weeks 🙈💖 my apologies!!! i hope you're doing well :3c but i am absolutely blown away by this x Reader premise, it's marvellous!! can you imagine how delighted Lux would be to know someone who not only has a vested interest in film, but also on the medium which projects light? oh, he'd be head-over-heels in moments 😍💖 i would love to read any drabbles you wrote of this concept if you feel up for it!! 👀 without giving too much away, i'm working with a similar premise in an x Reader wip right now...looks like we all want to write Readers who have a serious interest in Mr. Ring-A-Ding somehow, which is adorable 🥰💖

[alexthebordercollie]

i'm always a sucker for the take that Ford does love kids, he's just not the best caretaker. i mean, he's immediately delighted to learn he's an uncle in tale of two stans, and he loves spending time with Dipper and Mabel, he's just kind of dense.

i think aus where he gets to be a dad with Fiddleford are so cute. and so interesting to see how he'd handle it. people always seem to forget what a softie he can be

Oh yes! It kind of bugs me how a lot of people act like Ford is cold when he really isn't. There are lots of little examples of him being an absolute sweetheart. He talks a big game about being logical and suppressing fear etc, but he's a deeply emotional person, and that comes through in his more personal journal entries. He's not some heartless robot. He loves sharing his joy and excitement with the people close to him. He craves human connection even though he's bad at it. He gets attached to weird little creatures like Shifty, he loves his niece and nephew and is genuinely happy to meet them. Not to mention Ford loves weirdness and creativity and kids are the weirdest most creative demographic of people out there.

I don't think Ford dislikes kids at all. I think his lack of emotional intelligence and tendency to be lost in his own world makes him a questionable caretaker. Not through apathy or malice, he's just kind of bad with kids. Making him a father is really interesting for this reason because I'm confident he'd love the shit out of his kids, but learning how to respond appropriately to their needs, keep them safe, and pay attention consistently when needed, would all be things he'd struggle with.

Ford also says as much in his journal that he didn't want to settle down and "start a family". I don't think he ever saw kids of his own as part of his future nor do I think he'd ever consciously choose to have them. That said these are the words of a young Ford with grand ambitions that children would have potentially gotten in the way of. I also think the way he shuts down the idea of "starting a family" is a response to the social pressure to get straight married which is also not something he would have wanted. I mean look how well that worked out for Fidds :/

But Ford's whole character arc is about humbling himself. Learning to let go of this fantasy of some grand destiny and find joy in just living life with the people he cares about. He learns to accept the love of others and to love himself without needing to prove anything.

Pictured above, is a combination of sleep deprivation and those little moments when you're a new parent and it dawns on you yet again that suddenly you have this tiny little human who's who world depends on you. That mix of fear and awe and overwhelming love that hits you in waves and turns your brain into mush for a moment.

Nik and Newt force Ford to put someone else over himself, forcing him to reassess his priorities much sooner.

Also I know this one wasn't really an ask but I really wanted to draw something for you because it was soooooo good seeing a real ask in my inbox. I would absolutely love to answer any asks people have about this AU. I'd love to draw more of Ford, Fidds, Stan, and the twins but it gets hard to decide what to draw with so many ideas in my brain. By all means, send me asks or suggestions for drawings and I'll do my best to respond to all of them.