#I want to know if they ship it instantly like they did in the book

[happypeachsludgeflower]

Okay, but like, were the gods watching on that tv show of theirs while Percy and Annabeth went through the tunnel of love?

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 1: Linked Here!

AO3: Linked Here :)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

Scenes from the afternoon hookup replay in your mind over and over as you sit in the library at a battered old desk in the history section. All you can think about is Shoto’s mouth. And his hands. And his abs!! And his sweet face.

You twiddle your pen in your hand as you try to draft out an essay for class. Unfortunately, every time you try to jot down a few thoughts your mind goes blissfully blank and you remember the tender way he spoke to you.

"How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?"

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.”

“Find me later so we can discuss this.”

You look down at your watch excitedly – 7:55 PM. You eagerly wait for Shoto to appear so the two of you can talk and – with any luck – canoodle amongst the history textbooks. You sit patiently as the time ticks by.

Soon it’s 8:30 PM. You’re not worried, though. Shoto probably assumed you’d want to get some work done first.

9:15 PM rolls around and you start to get worried. You try to distract yourself with school work as doubt creeps into your mind.

10 PM – Shoto still hasn’t showed.

“Shit shit shit.” You check your phone again and again as you wade through the endless wave of homework your teachers have assigned. You keep losing yourself in a math problem or in a passage of your History textbook, only to remember with a jolt that you were expecting to see Shoto and the bastard hasn’t showed.

At 10:30 PM you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s almost past curfew. You pack up your things and prepare to head back to the dorms. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake.

You slide your books into your bag as a anxious thoughts dance through your mind like annoying fruit flies: Does Shoto regret your mid-afternoon hookup? Is he going to pretend it never happened? Did you push him too far? Does he think you’re a slut for stripping off your shirt and basically pressing his face into your naked breasts!? The synapses of your brain jump through dozens of equally horrid and embarrassing scenarios as you march back to your dorm room, blushing furiously with humiliation.

You run through the afternoon’s events in your head for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find a clue as to why Shoto would have left you waiting alone in the library. Your cheeks burn hotter as you recall the gentle way Shoto had kissed your neck before leaning in to capture your lips in one of his first kisses. "How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?" You shiver as you think back to how gentle he was, how each caress felt so loving and intimate.

You shake your head to clear it. Shoto must have a valid excuse for not meeting you in the library as he had promised – no boy could kiss someone that intimately and then instantly cast her aside, right?

Before long, you’re walking through the doors of Class 1A’s dorm building. You shiver with discomfort as you recall how earlier that day you essentially scaled the side of a building for a boy. Does Shoto think you’re an absolute fool with the extremes you went to for a quick make out session? You hope not.

You walk up the stairs and past the common area. You see most of Class 1A studying quietly. Sero, Izuku, Kirishima and Ida sit around one of the kitchen tables reviewing their math homework while some of the girls compare English notes on the couch. To your relief, Shoto isn’t there. Mina waves to you enthusiastically, beckoning you to join her and YaMomo as they review the finer points of Hamlet. You politely decline and make a beeline for your room. You turn the key in the lock and it clicks – within moments, you are blessedly alone.

You toss your heavy book bag to the ground and prepare to wallow in self-pity. It’s 10:56pm and Shoto still hasn’t reached out to you. Your phone is vacant of text messages and your brain is absolutely fried from schoolwork.

You dim your room lights and switch on the favorite fairy lights for some peaceful ambiance. Time for some self-care, bitch! You think resolutely as you swap your uniform for your favorite pair of pajamas. You toss your phone to the floor with abandon and climb into your comfy bed. You breathe in deeply, allowing yourself to revel in the coziness of the dorm room.

You take out your five-minute bullet journal and write a quick list of things you're grateful for: 1. The opportunity to study at UA 2. Your lovely and encouraging friends and classmates 3. Your cozy room and the roof over your head 4. Shoto’s mouth 5. Shoto’s abs 6. Shoto’s goddamn hard AF dick

Um. No.

You snap the journal shut before you get too derailed.

You pull your comforter over your head and sit in silence for a moment. You’ve never been the kind of person to go completely boy-crazy. You always used to make fun of those girls who would go gaga over pretty boys and their texts and their kisses. But as you recall the searing way that Shoto kissed your lips earlier that day, you suddenly understand what all the boy-crazed girly hype was all about. Oh my god. You have a crush. A big sloppy embarrassing crush.

In the silence of your room, you suddenly here a buzzing noise coming from the general direction of your book bag. You struggle to disentangle yourself from your sheets and your journal goes flying. You ignore its crash landing as you slip from your bed and collect your phone from where it lays abandoned on the carpeted floor.

It’s Shoto.

Your heart skips.

Todoroki: Y/N. Are you awake?

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Did Shoto just send you his version of “U up?”

Y/N: Yes, I’m still up.

Todoroki: I know it’s late, but can I stop by?

You tense. Oh God – he’s going to come by to tell you that he’s not interested. He’s going to thank you for your time making out and say that you probably should avoid hooking up in the future because it’s a huge distraction. You’re sure that whatever he has to say is going to be negative and leave you feeling embarrassed. Why else would he have skipped out on your rendezvous in the library?

You take a deep breath. You have always been fairly practical with a mind for strategy, two qualities that had really set you apart when you had taken the UA entrance exams. You know that the best course of action here is to rip off the Band-Aid sooner rather than later. Better to know how he feels about your hookup now

Your heart sinks as you type out:

Y/N: Sure, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just come in. Try not to be seen by anyone.

Todoroki: Of course. See you shortly.

Your heart beats double time as you look down at yourself. Your pajama set consists of a silky blue top with matching shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination. You chew on your thumb nervously – should you change into something more appropriate? No – Shoto has seen your boobs. A little bit of leg is not going to kill the half hot half cold hero in training.

You quickly remake your bed and kick your book bag beneath your desk so that the floor is clear. You plop down on your smooth comforter and wait, knotting your hands together as you anticipate Shoto’s arrival.

A few anxious minutes pass, and then you hear gentle footsteps pad down the hallway outside your door. The knob turns quietly, and in a moment Shoto Todoroki steps across your threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. He reaches down to turn the lock with a gentle snap of his wrist.

You take him in – he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him dressed so casually before and you assume that these are what he wears as pajamas in the privacy of his own dorm room. His hair is tousled and damp from a recent shower, and the burned side of his face shines where he’s clearly applied some kind of scar cream or moisturizer. His outfit projects a comfy air, but his expression is dark and stormy. Your heartbeat quickens in fear – what could possibly have caused him to be in such a tempestuous mood? Was this about your kissing?

You bite at your lip with worry. But when your eyes lock, his expression softens. In two quick strides, he’s at the bed. He leans in close so that your noses almost touch.

“Hi.” He says softly, before dipping his mouth to meet yours. You blink in surprise as your mouths melt together. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the kiss. Pleasure radiates up and down your spine as you kiss him back. He places both his palms on your hips and pulls you closer, letting out a small moan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue into your mouth. How silly you feel for thinking he didn’t want you like this!

After a few moments, you break apart.

“Hey there.” You whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful jaw. He leans in to kiss you again and you hold him in place. He stops and looks down at you inquisitively.

“I waited for you in the library, you didn’t show.” You say slowly, softly.

“My father decided to take me through some drills in one of the school’s gyms. I only finished a half hour ago.” His expression becomes dull as he speaks. “I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I wanted to see you - but I’m not allowed on my phone during training.”

Relief must have flooded your features, because he tilts his head to the side questioningly. You hold back a giggle – the way his head is tilted makes him look like a sweet dog asking its owner for a treat.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh and pull yourself further onto the bed, patting the spot next to you as an invitation. Shoto climbs up next to you, sinking into the deliciously soft fabric. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“This is so comfortable.” He says, pressing his palm into the plush fabric beneath him. You recall his sparse traditional bedroom and realize that he’s never laid on a proper puffy mattress before.

“Hold on – it gets better.” You say pushing him off the bed so you can pull down the covers. You slip beneath the comforter and gesture for him to rejoin you. He climbs in clumsily, unsure how to position himself within the sheets. You prop a pillow beneath his shoulders as he lays down on his side. You toss the comforter over the two of you and lay across from him, feet almost touching beneath the warm layers of bedding.

“Cozy?” You ask as Shoto settles into the bed.

“Yeah.” He says in quiet voice, propping himself up on an elbow. “I always thought beds like this were excessive but…maybe there’s some merit to this.” He eyes a blue Squirtle plush that sits next to you in the bed. “Can I…hold that?”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you reach over to grab the Pokémon plush. “This is Squirtle – he’s one of my favorite plushies.” You hold up the stuffed animal and wiggle it in front of Shoto’s eyes as if it’s dancing. “Squirtle, Squirtle” you say in a low tone, trying to emulate the television character’s voice the best you can.

Shoto gives you a weird look. “I don’t get it. Why are you just repeating its name in a strange voice?”

“Shoto…have you…have never seen Pokémon!?” You almost screech in disbelief, before throwing a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. You quickly remember that you are in the dorms and the walls aren’t super thick.

“No, I wasn’t allowed to watch television unless it was about Pro hero work.” Shoto says, a tinge of sadness flowing along with his words. “But it looks cute and round and I really just want to hold it and squish it?”

“Yeah, that’s the general reaction to plushies. Dude, we need to get you that whale pillow you liked on Pinterest. You need more cuteness in your life.”

“Well I have you, don’t I?” Shoto smiles softly. “You bring more than enough cute into my life.” He reaches out and grabs the plush from your hands and squishes it a bit. “But this is pretty nice, too.”

Your face grows hot at the compliment. Shoto tucks the Squirtle under his arm and shifts around in the sheets until he finds a comfortable position. He looks adorable and soft as he cradles the bright plush in his strong, muscular hands.

When he finally settles in, he looks up at you enquiringly. “What’s wrong?” He repeats, looping you both back to the conversation form earlier.

“So…” You sigh with embarrassment. “When you didn’t show up and I didn’t hear from you…” You pause and Shoto gives Squirtle a squeeze. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again. Or at least that you didn’t want to make out with me again.”

“Oh.” Shoto wasn’t expecting this. “I thought I made it very clear how…enthusiastically…I enjoyed our time together this afternoon. I didn’t realize I had left any room for you to question my attraction to you.”

“That’s nice to hear…but when you didn’t show at the library or send a text, I assumed the worst. My mind kind of went into full-blown panic mode. I thought maybe once you had time to reflect on our hookup, that you realized you didn’t like it or that you didn’t really like me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never felt that way before. Usually something like this wouldn’t bother me.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “But I think I really like you and want to be close to you, and the thought that you might not feel the same was tearing me apart for the last couple of hours.”

The words come tumbling from your mouth before you can stop and think them through. Why are you saying all of this!? Why does being around Shoto make you feel so comfortable and open to sharing? It’s so weird – and you’re absolutely sure he’s going to think you’re some kind of over sharing freak for telling him all of this.

Shoto looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment before speaking. “Something I have always admired about you is your ability to be straightforward about what you’re thinking and feeling. Most people aren’t like that, and I have a hard time navigating more subtle situations. Thank you for telling me exactly what you’re thinking – I value it so much.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, moving the bangs out of his bright eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I had abandoned you. I wanted to come to the library so badly. I want to kiss you so badly – it’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Let me match your honesty with some of my own - my father is extremely strict. Ever since I was born, he’s pushed me to be better. To be stronger. He wants me to surpass him. He wants me to take All Might’s place as the number one hero.”

You gasp at this. Of course you knew that Todoroki was ambitious, but this…

“I don’t have any intentions of becoming harsh and cruel like my father. I’m not even sure if I want to go for the top spot on the hero charts.” He admits, almost bitterly. “That’s the path that my father has laid out for me. He’s obsessed with my training. With my ‘potential.’ But he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about how I feel. Excuse my language.” Shoto looks so sad, so despairing. He hugs the plush close, his chin tucked into his chest as he continues.

“I just want to help people and make them smile – just like All Might. But my old man just doesn’t seem to get that. Today, when he noticed how distracted I was… he didn’t ask if something was wrong. He just pushed me even harder.” Shoto avoids your gaze. “I think he purposefully pushed me to train into the night to keep me from meeting up with you. In his eyes…you’re a huge distraction for his prized creation.”

Suddenly you notice how exhausted Shoto looks – there are pale bags beneath his eyes. You scan his body and see light bruises beginning to form on the exposed skin of his arms. You wonder - just what kind of training has Endeavor been subjecting him to?

You had never guessed that behind Shoto’s calm and collected exterior, there is just a normal teenage boy trying desperately to please his father, while simultaneously trying to defy him. The whole relationship seems complicated and messy and you’re sure what Shoto is telling you is only the tip of a chaotic Todoroki family dynamic iceberg.

“Oh, Shoto.” You say softly. You scoot forward and wrap your arms around him. He freezes, unsure of what to do but nevertheless comforted by the sudden closeness. You reach behind him and card your fingers through his hair. You see goose bumps emerge across his skin, and realize that he likely hasn’t been touched this way before.

“Is it okay to touch you like this?” You whisper.

He breathes out a shaky “yes” as he moves to toss the Squirtle plush to the floor. Once his arms are free, he works to wrap them around you. He rests one strong hand on your back and slings the other around your delicate waist. He draws you close to him and holds you tightly as you continue to run your fingers softly through his two-toned hair.

He’s silent as he buries his head into your shoulder. There’s an emotion that’s radiating off of his body that you can’t quite place – sadness? Frustration? Maybe even relief? After a few moments of running your fingers through his hair and gently up and down his back, he finally starts to relax. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen, and he seems to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers, muffled as he turns his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not great at expressing my emotions. I can try to put it into words…I’m feeling so weighed down right now.”

“Because of your father’s expectations?” You prompt, running a light fingertip down his spine. He shivers a bit in response, but not in an unpleasant way.

“Sometimes I wonder if he sees me as a real person, as a son. Or am I just his big project?” Shoto wonders aloud, his voice a bit strained. You feel his eyelashes flutter against the sensitive skin beneath your jawline.

“Shoto...that sounds like a lot to carry. You’re just a high school student – your father shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on you. It’s not normal.” You tuck a lock of red hair behind his porcelain ear. “This situation sounds so complicated. It’s no wonder you feel so conflicted. I’m here any time you need a friendly ear to listen as you work through it.” You continue to caress him softly over his clothes. He begins to lean into your touch hungrily. “But right now – at this moment – you’re safe. In this room, in my arms, you don’t need to hold other people’s expectations of you in your heart. When you’re with me, I want you to feel that you can just be Shoto.”

You still your fingers as you let your words sink in. Shoto is radiating a deep sort of sadness that you wish you could smooth away with your fingertips.

“Thank you.” He says, his voice breaking a tiny bit as he processes your words. After a few beats Shoto exhales deeply, his breath ruffles your hair. “I’m not used to talking about these things. Actually, I’m not really used to talking much at all. Or being touched.” You can feel the blush on his delicate cheeks warm the skin of your neck.

“I can tell.” You say before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he chuckles.

“I don’t know why it’s so easy to do these things with you – talking, touching…kissing.” He lifts his head off of your shoulder to look you square in the face. “There’s something about you…”

Suddenly, the room feels as if it’s charged with Denki’s electrification quirk as his bright mismatched eyes meet your own.

“I think I’d like to continue exploring this with you.” He says matter-of-factly, moving his legs to intertwine with yours.

“W-what does that mean?” Your breath catches in your throat as he dips forward to kiss down your neck.

“It means…I want to keep doing this. Kissing. Talking. I suppose I want to keep getting to know you like this? Intimately.” He places a soft kiss in the hollow behind your earlobe. “Would you like that as well?”

“Yes.” You breathe, with zero hesitation. He smiles into your neck before running the edges of his teeth lightly across your smooth skin. You let out a soft moan in response.

“Good. Then we’ll figure this out together.” He moves to kiss your cheek soundly before releasing you from his embrace. “But right now it’s well past midnight, and we both need our sleep if we’re going to continue to be top of our class alongside YaMomo and Ida. If we both let our grades slip, it might tip people off.” He moves to get off the bed.

“Hey – wait!” You grab his arm and pull him back under the covers. “I have no problem with you staying here for the night.”

“But wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Shoto’s face reddens, but he lets himself be drawn back into your gentle embrace.

“Would it be anymore inappropriate than you making out with my tits?” Shoto’s face burns an even brighter red at this question, but he also looks quite pleased with himself (you assume he’s recalling the way he kissed down your breasts earlier that day as he smirks). “Sharing a bed should be perfectly responsible as long as we keep all of our clothes on. You said you want to explore? Well get over here and let’s figure out if you make a good big spoon.”

This earns one of those rare full smiles from Shoto – he practically glows. “Alright.”

He pulls himself close to you. You reach above your head and switch off the string lights that wind their way around your room, and the tiny dorm fills with darkness.

You turn to face the wall and scoot your body back until you feel Shoto’s solid warmth. He reaches around to pull you close until bodies are touching, flush together. You tuck yourself into Shoto’s warm, muscular body and sigh with contentment.

“So do I make a good big spoon?” He questions, tentatively nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, your hair smells like lavender.”

“We’ll need plenty of practice to truly ascertain the full range of your spooning abilities.” You say in a faux-academic voice, causing him to snort out a laugh. “But so far you’re doing great.”

You interlock your legs and pull his strong arms around you. You wiggle a bit as you try to find the comfiest spot in the mattress. You unintentionally grind a bit against Shoto and jolt when you feel something hard pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Sorry.” He mutters softly, embarrassed.

“Maybe I’ll take care of that for you tomorrow.” You yawn as you close your eyes and settle in for a good night’s rest. You grin into the darkness as you feel Shoto’s dick get even harder as he mulls over your response, wondering at what you could possibly mean by “take care of that.”

You didn’t realize you were so tired. You’re dimly aware of Shoto’s breathing growing slow as he drifts off into a comfortable sleep. You smile softly to yourself as you slide further into his embrace. This poor, touch-starved boy has been through so many terrible things and your heart aches for him.

Even in sleep he’s tense, his jawline stiff and his muscles almost locked around you. But he’s warm and soft and smells like jasmine and mint tea. You hope that for the next few hours you can provide him with a safe harbor to rest and escape his troubles. You let your eyes flutter close and breathe in deeply, dreaming of Shoto’s sweet face as you fall gently into sleep’s embrace.

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

Part 3

🔥 Link to My Master List 🔥

[daistea]

𝕃𝕒𝕚𝕠𝕤 𝕩 𝕘𝕟 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 -

ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

2,300 words

post-canon - spoilers

no tws

You are being courted by the literal King of Melini. 

And he is only half aware of it. 

Laios is not oblivious concerning certain matters. However, his understanding of courting and romance are limited. It’s not an issue of intelligence, but rather his investment in the subject. He has relative awareness of what’s appropriate when dealing with a friend. He does not know how other people will interpret his actions with someone he fancies. Unfortunately, people notice him now more than ever. 

 Laios was considering the possibility of running away. 

 It was a feeling that he hadn’t experienced in years. Ever since entering the dungeon, the urge to run away had become rarer. Laios didn’t particularly seek out challenges, but he found ways to handle them. Callouses from the hilt of a sword and the stale air of underground cities had taught him the importance of standing his ground. Dragons, mad sorcerers, canaries, lions with wings and the all-consuming desire for desire— he didn’t run away despite his years of doing so before. 

 How odd that the fate of the world did not scare him away, yet rumors of his relationship with you were enough to turn him into a hermit. 

 “You haven’t made a public appearance in days.”

 Laios lifted his head to meet Marcille’s stare. She wasn’t smiling, but whether her frown was supposed to be a pout or a scowl, he couldn’t tell. He sat up straight and let his feet hit the floor, suddenly self-conscious of how he’d been sitting with his knees to his chest like a kid, scribbling on parchment. 

 “Yeah,” Laios offered a smile of his own, “that isn’t too long, I think. Plenty of people stay inside for days.”

 “Well, by days, I mean two weeks.”

 “Then why’d you say days?”

 “It’s just a— Okay, nevermind,” Marcille shut her eyes and waved a hand, “You haven’t left the palace in two weeks. There have been people showing up that want to see you, and Kabru’s had to be the one to hear out their complaints.”

 What was the issue? Kabru was probably having the time of his life. 

 From an objective level, Laios knew what Marcille was getting at. He was the King of Melini, he should’ve been publicly supporting the people. His recent shut-in behavior didn’t stem from a dislike of the job or his citizens, but rather a desire to hide from something invisible, devastating, and anxiety-inducing. 

 He gripped his parchment tighter, and his feet tapped on the wooden flooring of the palace library. “They want me to take a spouse.”

 Marcille squinted, “Yeah, what’s new? They’ve been wanting that from the very beginning.”

 “They’ve been, uh— I think it’s called shipping? No idea why. They’ve been shipping me and [Name].” Laios felt his cheeks go warm and his throat close up.

 Marcille’s eyes widened, “Oh?” Her voice went into a higher pitch, “You and [Name]? How interesting.” 

 He turned in his chair and gently set his bundle of parchment on the table. Someone, he wasn’t sure who, had very kindly made holes in the corners and tied small leather straps through the holes to make it into something resembling a book. He had the power to just make a real book, but the thought of giving these specific papers to someone else for that process made his stomach hurt. 

 “Yep,” Laios drummed his fingers up and down, one at a time, on the front page of his parchment collection. Looking Marcille in the eye suddenly felt like yanking out each and every hair on his arms for whatever reason. 

 She sighed and stepped further into the library. Closing the door behind her, she then neared his table and slipped into the seat across from him, “You obviously like them. Why not just go for it?”

 That hesitance to look her in the eye instantly disappeared as he met her stare, “I do?”

 “Obviously like them? Yes, you do.”

 Laois stared at the wood grains in the table as if they held the answers. “Huh. I don’t know about that.”

 “You drew a monster-sona for them.”

 In the specific collection of parchment that sat beneath his hands, yes he did draw a monster-sona of them. How she knew about that was a mystery, but all he could do was meet her gaze, excited, “What do you think of it?”

 Marcille’s nose scrunched, “I— I don’t think anything of it! It’s weird that you do that, actually! A normal person doesn’t make monster versions of their friends!”

 It wasn’t weird. In fact, it felt perfectly normal. Laios barely registered her outburst anyway. “I do that with everyone I care about.”

 “Right,” Marcille rested her forehead in one hand, “You do. That’s probably not the best example to use.”

 Your monster-sona was way cooler than the usual sonas he gave his friends, though— and he gave them some pretty cool sonas. Laios assigned the types of monsters and their qualities to each individual person based on what fit them. Or based on what looked the best, it depended on his mood. However, concerning you, he gave you the exact same qualities that he would have as a monster. Then, he drew your monster version and his monster version cuddling in a cave together and starting a monster family, simultaneously creating an entirely new species that would eventually reach the top of the Creature Pyramid. 

 But Marcille didn’t need to know that. 

 “I’m not ready to court anyone,” Laios said with a smile, “but I’ll try making a public appearance soon.”

 “And just ignore the rumors and pressure,” Marcille insisted. 

 “Yeah, I’ll do that,” he nodded, closing his eyes. He’d faced dragons and sorcerers and the literal embodiment of mana. He could handle a rumor or two. 

In his attempt to ignore the rumors and go about his life as he usually would, he unknowingly courts you. 

He enjoys dressing in normal clothes and going into town by himself or with friends. A lot of new restaurants have opened in Melini lately, and he wants to try them with people he loves. Including you. Often, it’s just you and him that go together. 

He makes very little effort to hide his identity. The people of Melini are hard-working and only half of them pay attention to what’s happening at the palace. The people who do recognize him are usually the residents of the Golden Country, and they treat him like an old friend. Any newcomers to the city either have no idea who he is, simply whisper about him from a distance, or awkwardly approach him. 

However, you’re often seen at his side. He looks at you when he says something he thinks is funny, just to see your reaction, your smile. He looks at you when he says something he thinks is smart, to see if you think it’s smart too. He looks at you simply to look at you. 

It’s the advisors and diplomats and delegates who notice this the most. Some people from other countries want to use it to their advantage, but Marcille and Kabru usually keep them in check. 

Laios sends you gifts often. They’re incredibly practical gifts. If he sends flowers, it’s because they have some sort of herbal-type of property that he thinks could be useful. If he sends you books, it’s because he liked them and wanted to share the story with you, so you could talk about it with him later. He sends utensils, interesting snacks, games, anything you could use for your hobbies, etc. 

Word about this only gets out because the palace servants notice and think it’s cute. It endears him to them, helping them forget about his usual blunt and out-of-pocket statements for half a second. 

The servants and other people who know Laios pity you. They often make that clear with how they treat you, as if you’re some saint for putting up with him. He ignores it, usually. With anyone else, he wouldn’t even notice it much. Yet, since it concerns you, he’s a bit more aware of their view about your relationship. He doesn’t particularly care how they see him, but the implication that you’re only close to him out of pity or charity is a bother. 

The original citizens of the Golden Kingdom genuinely like him. They’re grateful, and they accept your presence with open arms. Most of them are already assuming that you’ll be his consort one day. 

Courting from Laios, the King, also includes spending time with him at the palace. He has dogs, so many dogs, and he likes it when you play with them. 

He holds your hand a lot, seemingly at random. Yet, in his mind, it’s not random at all. He’s holding your hand because one of the dogs ran by and nearly knocked into you and you looked like you were about to fall. He’s holding your hand because the ground is muddy and he doesn’t want you to slip. He’s holding your hand because the floor was just mopped and— wait, you shouldn’t walk on the mopped floor, just stand here with him and hold his hand while it dries.

This is very normal. 

“That’s not normal.”

 Laios was starting to wish his friends would knock, or greet him with a ‘hello’ rather than out-of-the-blue statements and observations that flew right over his head. 

 He tangled his fingers with yours, casting you a glance with the intent to see your reaction. You simply looked confused at Kabru’s statement. Waiting for the floor to dry was perfectly normal, polite even. 

 “What’s not normal?” Laios asked as he returned his attention to Kabru. 

 The advisor stood in the doorway with several books nestled in the crook of his arm. He was making a face with some sort of negativity written on it, which was unusual because Kabru was usually very cheerful and polite. He didn’t often step into freshly mopped rooms and make random statements with no context. 

 “For friends,” Kabru sighed, then seemed to gather himself, putting the pieces of his mind back together. “I mean, for you and [Name] to hold hands all the time. Normal friends don’t do that.”

 Laios immediately looked at you for assurance. You shrugged. He looked at Kabru again, “What’s the problem?”

 “There’s no problem.”

 Kabru said it so genuinely, too. Every ounce of the conversation was only making Laios more confused.

 “Then why’d you just—”

 “Have you ever considered that the rumors about you two may be veridical?” Kabru asked. It was barely noticeable, but his voice went up slightly in pitch. He tilted his head and smiled as he held his books closer. There were only a few wet spots left on the floor, catching the light of the candle-covered chandelier hanging overhead. 

 Laios stepped into a dry spot and you followed without question. Your hand didn’t dare leave his, and the realization that you wanted to follow him, that you wanted to hold his hand, made his heart flutter. It felt as if there was a bird in his chest. It beat its wings with the desire to take flight. 

 The mention of the rumors kept the bird grounded, though. “Not really. We’re just friends, and we both know that.”

 “Friends don’t hold hands all the time.”

 “Falin and Marcille hold hands all the time,” Laios said, smiling as if he were proud to back Kabru into a metaphorical corner. 

 Kabru simply stared at him. He looked odd, a bit constipated. You tried to stifle a laugh, and Laios immediately turned his head to look at you, painting the image of your smile in his mind. His brain was an art gallery and you were the theme, the muse. He stared. You stared. Kabru smoothed out the constipated look and turned to leave. The floor was almost dry, but your hand stayed tangled with the King’s. 

Kabru and Marcille stage an intervention. They have the medieval equivalent to a power-point presentation with proof and observations, intended to help Laios realize that he is not just your friend. 

It does not work. 

Falin is visiting and wanders into the room. She takes a seat beside Laios, glances at Kabru and Marcille’s presentation, then innocently asks, “How is [Name]?”

Laios grins and perks up and starts to ramble, gesturing and tilting his head while he shares every thought concerning you.

Falin hums and nods. Eventually, she says, “I’m so happy you’ve fallen in love.”

And she says it so sweetly, too. 

Laios freezes. He presses his palms togethers and brings them to his lips, his eyes wide. Marcille and Kabru are staring. 

Later that night, Laios lays awake in bed and stares at the ceiling. 

He’s in love. 

He apologizes to Kabru and Marcille for all the trouble. Then, goes straight to you, and he takes your hand even though there’s no mud or obstacles or wet floors. As he kisses your knuckles— he saw Kabru do that to a diplomat lady once— it feels like a key unlocking a door. The bird in his chest takes flight when you smile. He is definitely, undeniably, irrevocably, in love.

[thus-spoke-lo]

cw: gn!reader. yandere-ish sanji (isn't that sort of just always sanji?). obsessive behavior. physically blocking reader from moving. using prompt from here. // Yandere Minific Masterlist

Sanji’s arms cage you in on either side, hands pressed firmly against your upper arms, keeping you locked in place against the pantry door. You raise your hands to uselessly grasp at his steely forearms, but your fingers never quite gain purchase. Kicking at him would be futile at best and perilous at worst—you’d seen him in a fight and know full well what he is capable of using just his legs.

“You can’t go, my darling,” he says through uneven breaths, a noise that you could almost mistake for a laugh trailing after. “You—you just can’t.”

“Sanji, please,” you whisper, choking back a scream, “I want to go home.”

Nami had been confident that it would be no time at all before you’d be back on your island, embracing your friends, collapsing into your own bed, eating meals made by your own hands. Not that you minded your accommodations for the time being—getting saved by the Strawhats was more than enough, but they graciously offered to transport you home (it was on their way to their next destination), and you and sleeping in a warm bed and having meals lovingly (perhaps too lovingly) prepared by their chef was a welcome change of pace from the last time you’d gotten mixed up in the middle of a skirmish and the heroic Marines simply dropped you off at the nearest safe island, leaving you to figure out safe passage home.

But the few days you were promised turned into a week, then two. A stop at another island for supplies, a quick pause at yet another, Sanji always by your side when you’d debark. On today’s impromptu stop, he insisted on staying back on the Sunny with you, something about this place being too dangerous for someone so delicate, so ethereal. He made you tea, fed you snacks, sat beside you and swooned over you as you read a book. You’d learned how to politely ignore him by now, but it was becoming more and more difficult by the day the way he smothered you with misplaced affection.

You tried to sneak into the kitchen to get your own refill, but he’d found you almost instantly, as though he were always just steps behind you, following your scent like a bloodhound. You’d made the mistake of blurting out how long it was taking to get you home and suddenly the glass in your hand crashed to the floor and you were pressed against the pantry, Sanji’s face inches from yours, his desperation growing by the second.

“But—but you’ve only just arrived. Is it something I’ve done? Is it something I’m not doing?” The panic in his voice rises, his tone becoming almost shrill the more he rambles. “What can I do to change your mind, my love?”

There is no one else aboard this ship, just you and him. You have to remain calm. You have to remain in control of yourself. You inhale deeply, exhale slowly, trying to slow you racing heart. “Sanji—why aren’t I home just yet?”

“My sweet, your home was out of the way and I—well, everyone understands that when a man falls in love, he can’t let go just so easily.” His gaze drops to the floor, and he shudders, a soft sob leaving his lungs. “I've only begun to know what home means when I met you. Please, don't take it away from me again.”

“Sanji, what did you do?”

An unsettling smile creeps up the corners of Sanji’s lips, one that you will see in your mind’s eye every night when sleep evades you, as tears stream down his cheeks. “Luffy never turns down a new crew member. He didn’t need much convincing, my sweet—not for someone as incredible as you.”

A hundred different scenarios swirl in your mind, a protest creeping up your gullet but sticking there, helplessly. It’s you against them—against him. You’re weak. You have no devil fruit. You never learned to fight beyond simple self-defense. Escape seems far away, somewhere your fingers cannot grasp, and your body stiffens.

“Just give it time, ma petit chou. You’ll learn to love it here.” He strokes your face with the back of his hand, sucking in a breath through his teeth at the sensation of your flesh on his. He leans in and presses his cheek to yours, moaning as his lips ghost your prickled skin as he whispers, “You’ll learn to love me.”

[sodaabaa]

to flee or not to flee, part three

anthony bridgerton x OC what happens when a charming and determined viscount courts someone whose worst fear is to marry a man like him?

tropes: damsel in distress, innocent and shy mc, slow burn,

tw: mentions of domestic abuse, angst, anxiety, slight misogyny/patriarchal concepts

masterlist

“Mr. Carrington, Miss Carrington, you have a visitor.” 

Annalise looked up from her book to her brother. 

“Who is it?” He asked.

“Lord Bridgerton, sir. Shall I send him in?”

Her brother only nodded. 

Annalise cleared her throat, sitting up straighter suddenly acutely aware of her appearance. She pulled at the scarf around her collar, ensuring it was properly secured before the viscount arrived. Her brother had confronted her rather harshly about Lord Bridgerton’s abrupt proposal, believing it was her who had exposed Thomas to the viscount. She swore on her life she did not. He refused to believe her. He stormed out of the house to relieve his stress, no doubt with drinks and women. It wasn’t until he came back home from the gentleman’s club where he overheard a few men talking about Lord Bridgerton’s inquiries about Thomas, that he believed it was not Annalise who revealed his treatment of her. Thomas admittedly did believe it was a fine bargain – no dowry and a hefty payment to rid himself of Annalise. He told her he would accept the proposal, should the viscount show a continued interest in Annalise. She was not sure if she should be relieved of her brother’s approval of the proposal. She still did not know what to make of Anthony Bridgerton.

As if on cue, there he was. His presence filled up the room instantly. Her skin prickled and her stomach twisted. No rational woman could deny his beauty, like that of a greek statue with his chiseled jaw, deep brown eyes with his brow always set in a furrow and his lips…She cleared her throat, snapping herself out of improper thoughts. She did not want to think of him as anything but another man, another cage – rationality be damned. 

“Good day, to the both of you.” He spoke, his voice booming through the rather small drawing room. 

“Good day. What brings you here, Lord Bridgerton?” Her brother said.

“I would like to extend an invitation to the two of you to join my family and I on our trip to Aubrey Hall, our country estate.” He glanced at Annalise, noticing her silence since he arrived. 

“That is generous of you, what has spurred such a decision?” Thomas asked.

“I thought it may be a welcome respite from the ton. And, of course, you and Miss Carrington would get the chance to see the grounds that she may become viscountess of.” He replied diplomatically. 

Thomas smiled, pleased that Anthony wanted to continue his courtship of Annalise. 

“Well,” Thomas clapped, “in that case, I believe it would be a welcome respite. Annalise, go prepare your bags for the trip.” 

Annalise stood, curtsied to the viscount and her brother, avoiding any and all eye contact with the former.

“I am pleased you will be accompanying us.” Lord Bridgerton said, his eyes trained on Annalise. 

She looked at him through her lashes, “thank you for thinking of us, my lord.” And with that, she slipped out of the room which grew hotter with every passing moment. 

A trip to his estate? Annalise did not know what would result from this trip but she hardly thought it could be anything good. 

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The town of Mayfair passed by in a blur as Annalise looked out the carriage. Brick townhouses, giggling groups of ladies, the booming laughter of men all sped by. Annalise felt as though she were being shipped off to a butcher. Thomas sat across from her, muttering to himself and checking off items on one of his many lists that helped him keep track of the estate's affairs and finances.

There’d be no fighting it now she thought to herself. She had been invited by the Bridgerton family to spend a week at Aubrey Hall. The looks of envy and wonder could barely be held back when she stepped out of her home this morning. She was now all but betrothed to the viscount. She supposed the week couldn’t be all that bad, after all, there’d be a plethora of people to keep her company. The viscount’s seven siblings would be accompanying them and nearly half of them were girls. Anthony had made them seem charming and mischievous in their own right. Perhaps she may have a pleasant time if she could spend most of it with the Bridgerton siblings as opposed to the viscount himself. 

The sun had now reached its peak and their journey nearly halved since they left early this morning after her viscount’s visit. Her leg began bouncing, her hands growing restless. No amount of fiddling with lace or threads could calm her nerves. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to steady herself. 

“Annalise! Calm yourself. You mustn’t let the Bridgertons see you in such a state of disarray. Have I taught you nothing, girl?” He barked.

She released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Apologies, brother.” 

Annalise would simply have to wait until she had a moment alone to indulge her emotions.

As she stepped out of the carriage, assisted by her brother, she took in the massive home before her. The building itself was made of gray brick, with four large roman columns at the center, bookended with large domed roofs on either side. A breath caught in Annalise’s throat as she marveled at the stately building. Should she choose to accept Lord Bridgerton’s proposal – which seemed imminent – this would be her home. Miles away from her brother and assuming the viscount’s duties would keep him busy much of the day, she’d have this home all to herself. With no one to fear. She had to admit, perhaps this could be a suitable arrangement for her. 

“You are a sight for sore eyes, Miss Carrington” the viscount appeared before her suddenly, before she had the chance to collect her thoughts and steady herself. She curtsied, stumbling on the way up, still off balance from his sudden appearance. He had quite the presence, always abrupt, sudden. Leaving just as fast as he appeared and leaving her dumbfounded quite often. He reached out an arm, placing it on her elbow gently to steady her.

“Thank you, my lord. I admit, I am not well acquainted with lengthy carriage rides.” 

“No matter, I am sure you will grow accustomed as you journey more frequently” he said brows raised, alluding to his assumption of her acceptance.

“Ah! You must be Annalise, I am so delighted to finally meet you, my dear” a sweet, round faced woman pushed herself past Anthony and towards Annalise, immediately grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her in for a hug. Annalise’s eyes widened and her lips parted but before she could say anything, another woman with chestnut brown hair matching the viscount’s sauntered up to the group.

“The Miss Carrington! I must know all the details on your first dance with Anthony. Did you abandon him because he is a bore? Or did he pester you with his list of interview questions he believes will find him the perfect wife?” 

“Eloise! That is hardly an appropriate way to introduce Miss Carrington to this family. Have you no decorum?” Anthony huffed, grabbing the girl’s arm and moving her out of the way.

“Please excuse my sister, she can be quite… spirited, at times.” 

As if the crowd could not get bigger, two men, one with the same chestnut brown hair while the other had unruly curls in a much darker shade, approached them.

The darker haired one spoke first, his eyebrows raised in amusement, “well isn’t this quite the party. If you are to marry into this family, shall I suggest drinking a few lemonades before arriving at a function in which the entire family will be in attendance?” 

“Benedict!” The other said, to which the dark haired one – Benedict – simply shrugged.

Annalise could do nothing but stare at the commotion, a plethora of emotions overwhelming her all at once. Before anyone else could join in, Anthony cleared his throat and motioned for his family to give Annalise space.

“I think, the Carringtons would appreciate some quiet and the chance to settle in before you lot begin your chatter. Please, excuse their excitement” Anthony said pointedly. He offered a hand to Annalise and pulled her away from the bustling family, her brother following closely behind. Annalise sighed, secretly relieved at his intervention. 

“Your family is quite the unruly bunch, Lord Bridgerton. A bit of discipline would not hurt” Thomas said, looking back at the family in judgment. 

Annalise fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Discipline” was what Thomas called his fits of rage, hiding behind pretenses of doing what he thought was best for Annalise. “Shaping” her into a woman of manners and decorum. Instead, it made her flighty, anxious, and quiet when she had once been a curious and talkative young girl. Like a bird meant for flight having its wings cut, leaving nothing more but a decoration.

Annalise felt Anthony’s arm stiffen in response to her brother’s suggestion. 

“I do not agree, Mr. Carrington. My family is one of the ton’s most respected and it was not discipline that made it so, but my parents’ upbringing of their children.”

“I only mean to say that a man’s duty-”

“A man’s duty is to protect those under his care.” 

Thomas went quiet behind them.

As they made their way inside, Annalise looked up and once again, marveled at the sight of the grand home. 

“You have a beautiful home, Lord Bridgerton” she spoke softly, hoping to change the topic of conversation before things became heated between the two men.

“Thank you, I do hope you find your stay enjoyable despite the introduction you just had” he smiled.

“Your family is charming, my lord. I do think they were simply excited at the prospect of having a guest” she said graciously. Although overwhelmed by the boisterous family, the fondness they had with one another was not lost on her. 

“I’m glad you think so,” Anthony smiled. 

Behind them, Thomas cleared his throat to signal his presence.

“Right. Mr. Carrington, your room will be up the stairs, down the hall to the left and Miss Carrington, yours will be next to Eloise’s on the right side of the hall upstairs. I have sent for your luggage and it will be brought over as soon as everyone makes their way in” the viscount explained. With that, he took off, leaving Annalise and her brother to find their rooms no doubt to reel in his family and perhaps give them a scolding or two. 

After Annalise found her room, she shut the door with an exhale. She took in the room, various shades of blue and gray decorated the room. In the center was a bed with dozens of plush pillows. Annalise all but threw herself at the welcoming sight, landing in the middle of the carefully arranged pillows. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths to steady herself. She was not used to this much attention, she wished she could simply disappear into the wall. This week would require all of her strength. 

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“Brother, is Miss Carrington to be our new sister?” The youngest of the Bridgerton clan, Hyacinth, wondered aloud. 

“Hyacinth!” Their mother called out, reprimanding the young girl’s forward question. 

“Sister in law, Hyacinth. That depends entirely on Miss Carrington herself. Perhaps you might convince her.” Anthony replied, the corners of his mouth twist upwards, giving his youngest sister a wink. He spoke to his sister with such fondness, it made Annalise’s chest tighten. 

Annalise took a moment to survey the dining hall to distract herself from her melancholy. The candles placed throughout the table gently lit the room, making the hall feel smaller than it was, more intimate. Porcelain china with delicate floral patterns was placed perfectly in front of each setting. As her eyes made their way around the room, her eyes landed on the viscount. Annalise had not given herself a chance to properly look at the viscount this evening. He sat at the head of the table while his mother sat opposite of him. Was he used to this? Being the head of his household? Or did he find it troublesome? He took the mantle on quite early in life, did he ever get used to it? To her, it seemed he made a perfect viscount. His siblings adored him, his mother trusted him to make wise decisions. Would his wife do the same? Could Annalise find herself trusting the viscount, loving him?

“Of course, Annalise would be honored to join your family, Lord Bridgerton. What more could a young woman ask for?” Thomas said, looking to Annalise for confirmation.

“Yes, of course. It has been a privilege to be courted by Lord Bridgerton, he is too kind” she said, trying her best to remain as vague as she could for as long as she could. Anthony only nodded, his lips set in a tight smile. Not the answer he was hoping for, she assumed.

“Do you read, Miss Carrington?” One of the Bridgerton sisters asked, Eloise, she recalled.

“I do, in fact. Reading takes up a great deal of my time – there’s always some topic that plagues my mind for weeks at a time until I grow tired of it and find the next.” 

Eloise smiled at her response, she opened her mouth to say something but before she could she was interrupted by Anthony.

“Is your mind still occupied with the Renaissance, or have you found your latest obsession, Miss Carrington?” 

She turned back to the viscount, “I am still very much occupied, I have yet to find a chance to discover any new books, my lord.” 

“We have a very big – and very unused library, Miss Carrington, I am certain you may be able to find something of interest there” he replied.

“I’d be more than happy to escort you after dinner.”

Annalise hesitated. She did not want to spend any time alone with the viscount.

“Perhaps another day, I’m sure you are tired from your travels, my lord. Thank you.”

Before he could reply, Annalise turned to the viscount’s mother and his siblings, “enough about me, tell me about yourselves. What is it you all do in your spare time? It must be a great deal of fun to have such a large family.” 

“Fun is one way to put it, I suppose,” Benedict said dryly.

The eldest of the Bridgerton sisters was the only one to provide a proper answer, “well let’s see, Benedict here is a budding artist. Collin has been traveling lately. Eloise is…well, Eloise. Francesca plays the pianoforte– 

“Rather exceptionally, I might add” Anthony cut in.

“Yes, she is quite good. Hyacinth and Gregory are typically occupied with their studies.”  

“And you, your Grace?” Annalise asked.

“Oh, please call me Daphne and nothing more. I suppose much of my days are filled with being a wife and mother” she looked fondly at her husband, the Duke of Hastings, sitting across from her. He returned her affection, the entire night it seems he could barely keep his eyes off her. 

“Of course,” Annalise smiled at the couple. She marveled at the siblings. They each had the freedom to pursue their pleasures and what their hearts desired. They were quite the family, Annalise had to admit. Was this the viscount’s doing? He undoubtedly bore the brunt of the labor to allow his siblings such pursuits. Every passing moment that she spent with the Bridgertons chipped at her determination to not marry. Would she be capable of holding to her beliefs by the end of this week?

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After dinner, they all retired to their rooms – a break Annalise was much grateful for. She could not fathom how she could make it through this week if she could hardly get through one dinner. Perhaps a distraction is what she needed to pull through. The library she thought to herself. There was bound to be a book in there that could keep her grounded. The sun had set and everyone had gone to bed, she doubted there’d be anyone roaming the halls – and even so, she knew how to keep quiet and hide. 

Annalise slipped from her room, down the grand stairs in search of the library. The darkness blanketing the entirety of Aubrey Hall posed a challenge to her search but she persevered regardless until she was confronted with two large doors, one slightly ajar – inviting her in.

She creeped inside, peaking in to ensure no one else was present. Once she was satisfied that she was alone, she walked over to the nearest bookcase which held at least a dozen rows of books. Each row had been meticulously labeled with a category. History of the Americas, History of Great Britain, History of… this bookcase seemed to be dedicated to histories, Annalise skipped down to the next. 

“Miss Carrington?”

“Oh!” Annalise startled, dropping the book she had picked out.

Anthony came forward, quickly retrieving the book that had fallen from her hands. He was not wearing his usual formal attire, instead donning a simple white shirt and trousers, his sleeves rolled to his elbow. The shirt was untied, leaving much of his chest exposed. Annalise felt her cheeks warm, looking away from the viscount.

“My apologies, I did not mean to startle you” he said.

“No, my lord. I apologize, I should not be here at this hour” she replied, gaze trained on the patterned wood floor below her.

“Actually I expected you’d be here. I did not think you capable of keeping yourself from the library. A most tempting place, is it not?” A teasing smile on his lips. When Annalise failed to respond, Anthony scanned the book she had picked out – which he still had not returned to her.

“Medicinal Plants of the Orient? Was this meant to be a sleep aid?” He laughed.

She tried to hold back her smile. This only furthered the viscount’s own smile.

“You needn’t hold back on my account,” he said.

“Is this how you’ve managed to procure the reputation that follows you?” She asked, deflecting the subject of conversation from her to the viscount.

“I do not know what you mean, Miss Carrington. I am simply conversing” he said, refusing to let up that damned smile.

“Every girl I have met at the ton would do horrendous things for the opportunity to simply dance with you, nevermind courting them entirely. Not to mention your wellknown status of being a…” she trailed off. She did not think it appropriate to call him a rake to his face. 

“A what, Miss Carrington?” He teased.

She only looked up through her lashes, refusing to indulge him.

“I promise you, Miss Carrington, my days of rake-hood are far behind me. I have but one woman I intend to be with for the rest of my days” his tone no longer one of teasing.

Annalise held his gaze, unsure of what to say. 

“Annalise. I know you are afraid but trust that no harm would come to you from me. My father raised me to be a man with honor, a gentleman. Believe me, I have tolerated raising those hooligans you met this evening and I never, not once, raised my hand at them. Though they test me, I could never dream of harming someone under my care be it my siblings, my children, or my wife. Please, can you find it in your heart to trust me?” He had taken his hands in hers, his eyes in anticipation of her answer. 

“I do not wish to make decisions with my heart, my lord” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“And that is most sensible indeed” he said, his eyes trained on her face. 

He stepped forward. His breath tickled her face when he spoke, gentle as a feather,  “However, the heart is akin to a light, is it not Miss Carrington? It provides the guidance one needs in order to make your way out of the darkness.” 

Her chest rose, holding her breath.

“What if, Lord Bridgerton, one’s light were shattered and unable to provide guidance through the dark? 

“Then I would travel the night skies and snatch the stars to replace your shattered lights if that's what it takes. Annalise, I swear to you,” his gently lifted her chin to meet his eyes, “your heart is safe with me, shattered pieces and all.”

She could not breathe. Frozen in place and unsure of how to respond. She stared into his eyes, how could they be insincere with such pleading? Tears welled in her own eyes – she was at a crossroads, overwhelmed by the storm of questions in her mind. 

“Annalise, I will not hurt you” each word punctuated with intention as if he thought the more emphasis he put, the more convincing it would be to her. Was there anything she could do at this point? Any amount of delaying or refusing that would save her from her fate? Perhaps there was…

“Lord Bridgerton, may I give you the answer to your question by the week’s end?” She whispered.

That night once she had been escorted back to her chambers, Annalise conjured up a plan. The viscount had seven siblings and she would spend the remainder of the week with his family here at Aubrey Hall. She could use the week to get to know the viscount through his siblings. Perhaps, there would be a flaw, secret addiction, a bad habit – something that might give Annalise reason to deny the viscount’s proposal. Annalise would spend a day with each sibling and by the week’s end, there had to be something that might save her.

[recuira]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one chapter two chapter three

chapter four | suede. stalking. silly.

his pov;

"Your wanted poster."

Those three words settled in my mind as I stared at the distraught girl in front of me, watching as she fumbled with her hands, a nervous exterior brushing over her. She seemed to be so horrified with the fact that I was once a pirate sought after by thousands- wanted dead or alive, though much preferred dead. Many still wanted me dead but due to my brilliant idea of hiding out here, the chance of anyone getting my bounty was thin. I, however, didn't see it being as much of a big deal as she deemed it so. The real issue I found was tucked away in one of the books within the nightstand which I was so fucking thankful she didn't find. I'd rather her not have been looking around but if she were to find one of the two? I was glad she found the poster.

I tossed another slice of apple into my mouth then set the knife down on the cutting board. I approached Y/N but instantly halted when I noticed how nervous and uneasy she was. "What's wrong?"

"H-How many people did you kill?" She asked, her voice shaking.

"Does that really matter?" I asked, waving my hands up in the air to hopefully exaggerate my point. "It was almost a year ago."

"That doesn't change the fact that it happened!"

"I know, I know." Despite her discomfort, I took a seat next to her anyway. She tightened her arms around herself, almost to make sure there was as much distance between us without her actually moving. Clenching my jaw, I patted my hands upon my thighs. "I know it's a terrible thing, and there's nothing I can do to change that. It's in the past and if I could go back and alter things, I would. Being a pirate was all I knew. My old friend was one, too. Then we separated onto different things and-"

"Did he kill people?"

"Lots of pirates kill people. It's part of the hype, ya know? It's very unlikely to raid another ship without there being any casualties. But I stopped because I got tired of it. I wanted something more."

"It's a pretty big bounty. I mean- come on, fifteen million berries?"

"Don't think about turning me in now," I chuckled, wanting to add a bit of lightheartedness to this unfortunate predicament.

"I'm not like that. I know I'm in need of money but-"

"I didn't mean it like that, Y/N, come on. Give me some slack."

"Well, why exactly did you stop? Did you lose the thrill of stealing from others? O-Or did you get bored of killing innocent people?"

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "We've all done some shit we're ashamed of. We're humans. I did a lot of fucked up shit," I said as I pointed at myself. "But I changed that. I moved and let all that go. I left my crew, made someone else the captain, and abandoned ship. I left all of that shit behind and came here."

"But why?"

"If I say this, I'll probably make things worse but I don't want to lie anymore," I said as I laid back, folding my hands over my chest. I stared up at the ceiling. "You've obviously heard of the One Piece, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, I was one of those pirates absolutely obsessed with finding it. Fuck, I even dreamt about it. It was the only thing I truly desired in life. It was the only thing I thought about. Not riches, women, alcohol- just the One Piece. I was making somewhat decent progress but then I heard that a group of Straw Hats-" I grimaced at the thought. "-made off with the map which they stole from one of the Marine bases. I happened to track them down and I managed to steal the map from some kid named Monkey D. Luffy. But all good things must come to an end and I lost it. I was back to square one. And then I discovered his bounty was thirty million berries." I frowned then sat up, turning to face Y/N. "Can you believe that? Some newby pirate-wannabe received a bounty double my own! Seeing that brought me back to reality. So I dropped everything then came here."

"All because of him?"

I nodded my head. Just the thought of that kid irked me. There was no one, other than Shanks, who I despised more than my own self.

"So, yeah, I know what I did was fucked up. But there's a reason I'm here now. There's a reason I've given you so much. It's because I want to be a better person, maybe redeem myself for what I've done. And I can do that by helping you, by making your life a little less miserable."

"Do you pity me?" The girl asked, finally meeting my gaze.

"What?" I laughed, almost obnoxiously. "Of course not. If anything, I envy you."

"Me?" Y/N pointed at herself. "You envy me?"

"You have no bad conscience. You've done nothing wrong, you have nothing to make up for. You have a clean slate."

She shrugged, a small smile creeping onto her lips. "Thank you."

"So, uh, do you hate me now?" I asked, forcing a frown to mimic a pouting child. She giggled at this and shook her head. I sighed in relief, wiping 'sweat' from my forehead. "Thank god. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you hated me."

"I knew you were a pirate but it's still shocking to learn about your past. It'll take me a bit to get used to it but I don't hate you."

"So, we're good?" I extended my hand.

"We're good." She shook it.

I felt as if a huge relief was lifted off my shoulders. And as long as she stayed out of the nightstand, there would be no more issues. But if I hid the book, then I would be even more safe. I pondered the possibilities before I watched as she rose from the confines of the bed and approached the counter. My eyes trailed down. The backs of her thighs were exposed and the shorts clung to her ass so divinely. I bit my lip and crossed my leg over my lap.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me," She mumbled as she started to chew on an apple, then began to cut into an orange. "I do have a question for you, though."

"Go ahead, shoot." As soon as she turned around, my eyes met hers and I smiled.

"Are devil fruits real? Or is that just an old tale? I've never seen one up close and I heard they cost a fortune, even for just one alone."

"They're real," I said with a small laugh. "I would know, I've eaten one."

Y/N nearly jumped before she darted over toward me, her hands grabbing at my shoulders. She still had a slice of half-chewed apple in her mouth which made her struggle to properly speak. "WHAT? You- NO! You didn't?!" She let go of my arms and instead planted her hands on my chest, shoving me back. I collapsed back against the bed, laughing. "You ate one?!"

"Years ago, when I was fifteen."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not. It was a mistake actually."

"What happened?"

I chuckled and pushed myself back up. "Give me an orange and I'll tell you."

If my reflexes weren't so quick, the fruit would've hit me in the face with how quick she threw it. But I caught it and began to pick apart the peel. "Easy, next time," I smirked and took a bite from it. "Well, when I was younger and was a pirate-in-training, the crew I was in raided this ginormous ship and hit the motherload. Not only gold and jewels and anything you could think of, but there was also a devil fruit. I found out how much they were worth and tried to steal it but I was caught in a predicament and I tried to hide it in my mouth."

"And?"

"I swallowed it whole."

She gasped, "And you're alive?"

"It doesn't kill you. It just takes your ability to swim when you're in the ocean, in salt water. It's like the sea turned its back on you."

"Did you get a power from it?"

I shrugged and winked at her, taking another bite. I licked the juices from my hand. "Guess."

"You can fly?"

"Ha! Nope."

"Read minds?"

"It's body-altering."

"Wait," The lovely maiden smirked, taking a seat on the bed. "Did it give you that red nose?" She snickered.

"Guess again," I said flatly, my expression turning cold as I stared at her. She gulped, clenching her jaw. I laughed and looked down at my lap, now using one hand to hold the orange. I continued to chew on it. But while she was distracted with her numerous attempts to guess what kind of body-altering power I had, I detached my left hand at the wrist. It floated behind the both of us and tapped on her right shoulder. Y/N jumped up, her head shooting to look at her side. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed together before she spotted my floating hand waving at her. She gasped and slapped it away. I broke out into a fit of laughter, my hand reconnecting to my wrist. "Impressive, huh?"

"You- what?" She was still flabbergasted.

"I ate the chop-chop fruit. It allows me to pretty much chop any part of my body. Like I can-" To avoid grossing her out, I chopped my left leg from my thigh instead of my head from my neck. She watched in amazement. I smiled at this. "I can disconnect anything from my body from my toes to my ears to my-"

"Even... ya know?"

I winked. "Oh, yeah. That, too."

"That's so cool. How come you haven't done it before around me?"

"I don't know. I just never found a reason to." Shrugging my shoulders, I allowed my leg to snap back. I continued to chew on the orange before finishing it and tossing the peel into a small bin to the left of the bedside table. Y/N finished hers as well. She wiped her hands down on her shirt.

"So, uh," I chewed on my bottom lip. "Do you think you and your mother will be okay?"

"Yeah. We fight all the time. Her drinking doesn't help."

I cringed. "Really?"

"Yeah, she's one of the reasons I hate it so much."

I pursed my lips and nodded my head. I knew I needed to cut back on it but it was something I've done for well over more than half my life. Though, I was destined to do it. Not only for myself, but for her, too. I'd do anything for Y/N. "So," I began, "what do you want to do today?"

"I need to go make up with my mother. That's a big to-do. I can't stand her ever being upset with me." The girl said as she stood up, slipping her shoes back onto her feet. "We can have dinner tonight if you want. Maybe you could meet her."

"Meet your mom?"

"Yeah, why not? She was wondering where all that money came from. She thought I stole it."

"Hell, I don't know. I'm not good with meeting new people."

"Will you, at least, consider it?"

"Sure," I smirked.

"Thank you." Y/N reached for the doorknob, giving it a strong and firm tug before it yanked open. A gush of cold wind washed over her, almost knocking her back. I tossed her my coat to which she whispered another 'thank you' then slipped it on. "I'll see you, Buggy."

"Bye," I murmured with a smile.

As soon as the door shut, I jumped down from the bed and pulled the drawer out from the nightstand, dropping it on the stone floor. I sorted through the numerous books and grabbed the novel I was so fucking thankful she didn't look through. As I opened the cover, the hollowed book had contents that almost spilled out. Papers among papers, among sketches fell out, wafting along the floor. Several notes about Y/N puddled on the floor. One, which was my favorite, was a letter I wrote to her- well, I refused to send it. If I sent it, any last fiber of my confidence would be crushed like a scrambled egg. My fingers lined the rigid edges as I unfolded it.

Messy paragraphs lined both the front and back of the page.

I smiled. How long ago did I write this? I haven't looked at it in so long. I usually added a sentence to it each time I saw Y/N, which is why it was so long. But I stopped pouring my thoughts and desires into it when I actually had the pleasure of speaking to her.

If she saw this, I would kill myself.

I'd purposely jump into the ocean with two anchors attached to my feet.

I looked over the first paragraph,

'I've never wanted something so badly in my life. To say I yearned for her would be a complete understatement. I longed for her, I yearned, I desired- In simple terms, I wanted her. I mean, how could I not? She was an angel. She was a siren. I would purposely listen to her enchanting song, allowing my boat to crash, just if it meant I could be graced by her presence, by her beauty. I was obsessed with her. If she found out my thoughts, my desires, she would never let herself be seen with me. I wouldn't blame her, though. I was obsessive. It was unhealthy, I knew that. But I didn't care. I wouldn't say I loved her because I didn't know what that felt like. I've never experienced it. But perhaps I did love her. I didn't know, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that she was the only treasure I wanted. Not the One Piece, no. Not even that could match up to her alluring person. If I had to travel every sea in order to find her, battle every sea snake in order to touch her, I would. I would in a heartbeat.'

I grimaced, cringing at what I was reading. Thank god, she didn't see this. I didn't even want to see this.

I tucked the papers back into the hollowed-out book, closing it. I slipped the other novels into the drawer then slid it into the nightstand. With the book of secrets, I needed to hide it somewhere she could never find it- where even I struggled to find it. I didn't want to throw it out for I would be completely discarding all of those moments we had together, although she couldn't reconcile them with me because at that time, I was nonexistent to her.

Maybe I could follow my own idea and form my own message in a bottle. I never mentioned her name, nor my own. To an outsider's perspective, it was anonymous.

I shook my head and slipped the book back into the bedside table. She wouldn't be back anytime soon so I had enough time to properly execute a fool-proof plan.

But right now?

I needed to go get another coat.

-=-

her pov;

My mother and I resolved things, just like always. And when she caught wind of a pirate suddenly becoming very fond of me, she begged me to invite him over for dinner. I didn’t think that was the best of ideas. Going out to dinner? Sure! But to have him over? At our house? I cringed at the idea.

She fell ill months ago. Nothing too major, but ever since she’s gotten better, she despises leaving the house and even made me bring her bed downstairs so she could sleep next to the kitchen just in case she had a hankering for something to eat. It was ridiculous, I knew that. But I couldn’t just tell her no. She was my own mother. While I was old enough, I definitely wasn't going to willingly disobey her.

She persisted that I go and grab Buggy so we could have him over for dinner, while I insisted we all go out to eat. She hated the idea and told me that it was her house, her rules.

I grimaced at the thought.

Now, I was just outside Buggy's home, knocking on the stone door. I hoped he was home, though there was no possibility of me being able to ask him prior to my arrival. I knew he was busy. He was a very busy man. I was surprised he made time for me.

With another knock, another silence fell. I groaned and backed up.

My eyes trailing down, I stared at the doorknob and chewed on my bottom lip. He wouldn't care if I waited inside, right? We trusted each other. He knew where I lived and I knew where he lived. As far as I knew, he never crossed any of my boundaries and I definitely didn't cross any of his- well, except for maybe 'snooping' through his nightstand.

Without thinking too much more about it, I grabbed the rusted doorknob, gave it a firm twist, then shoved it open. I almost fell through the doorway.

I caught my balance and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. Without the lantern being lit, it was rather dark, but the bright blue sky helped to illuminate the small room. He must've not been home since I left.

I looked around, admiring everything.

As I took a seat on the edge of the bed, I noticed a piece of paper laying on the floor. It wasn't there before.

I raised an eyebrow and reached to grab it but before I could, the door flung open, a certain blue-haired pirate standing in the entrance. When he noticed me, he smirked. I gulped.

"So, we're breaking and entering, are we?" The man grinned as he took a few paces forward.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, scratching the back of my neck. "I came over to ask you about dinner but you weren't here so I figured I would wait."

"No worries, I'm only teasing."

"So?" I folded my arms, leaning forwards.

"So what?" Buggy questioned as he slipped his coat off. Since when did he get a new coat? And why? I was only borrowing the one he lent me. I didn't plan on keeping it. But I guess now it was okay if I did.

"Dinner? Are you available?"

"Hmm, it depends. What time?"

"I don't know, sometime tonight? Only for two hours or so. My mother wanted to meet you. I told her about you."

"What did you tell her?"

"That you've been a friend of mine for a few weeks now and you've been fortunate enough to treat me and help me out," I said with a smile. "She thought you were my boyfriend." I chuckled.

"Heh, that's rich," Buggy said as he turned around to close the door.

"So? Can you?"

"I guess so. Just don't leave me alone with her. I really don't want to be bombarded with questions." The man said as he folded the jacket over his arm then slung it on the countertop. "Did you tell her about my nose?"

I laughed, confused. "No? Why would I?"

"It's my defining feature. It's hard not to notice it when you see me."

"I didn't tell her. I didn't think it was important. I even forget it's there."

The clown burst out in laughter, his eyes closing as he clutched his stomach and nearly fell back with his fit of giggles. I pursed my lips. "What's so funny?" I asked as I crossed my arms.

"It's cute how you're trying to be nice to me. With a nose like mine, how can you forget it's there?" He replied while wiping a tear from his eye.

I felt flustered with the first part of his monologue but I ignored it and shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, I just do. It's not all I see whenever I look at you, ya know. It's not my main focus point when we speak. I look at your eyes, not your nose."

"And yet again, you prove to me that you're different than others."

I smiled. "Hope that's a good thing."

Buggy smirked, winking his left eye. "Of course it is."

The pirated approached me before he knelt down and picked up the piece of paper. He examined it for a moment then laughed to himself. "Grocery list," He explained as he shoved the paper into his pocket.

I paid no attention to the paper. It wasn't any of my business. "Speaking of groceries, want to go help me get food for dinner?"

"What's on the menu?"

"No idea, but let's just grab something so she won't be bitching later."

"Guess I'll be needing this again," The blue-haired man said as he reached to grab his jacket. He slipped his arms through and adjusted the collar. "We match now."

"Mine's more vintage than yours." I winked.

"Oh, so it's yours now?"

"No?" I gulped.

Buggy giggled. "It is. I got my own now so no worries about giving it back. Unless you'd like to trade from time to time."

"No, I like this one."

The man looked at me, an eyebrow cocked upward.

I paid his look no attention and instead looked down at the tattered suede coat I wore. I inhaled softly. It smelled like him.

A soft odor mixed with whiskey, coconut, and cinnamon. And while I hated the stench of alcohol, it worked for him.

I couldn't imagine him without it.

[theunsinkableship1]

This is no ordinary LOVE.

DISCLAIMER: This is LUKOLALAND only. Skip this if you're not a shipper. This is only my point of view. No harm intended

Amidst recent events and news, many in the Lukola fandom have started to reconsider their stance on this ship. While I understand the confusion these events have caused, I want to share why I still ship them and why I remain aboard.

Firstly, this is my first and only ship, and it will likely be the last one. I’ve witnessed many relationships unfold, I’ve been in relationships, attended beautiful weddings, and seen happy, healthy marriages and relationships endure the test of time. I’ve observed deep connections between people, but I’ve never seen anything quite like this. It might sound silly or even a bit offensive to the people in my life, but I’ve never seen love like what I see in Lukola, and I’ve fallen deeply for them.

Like many of us, I discovered Polin during the confinement days. I instantly loved their cute chemistry, as the friends-to-lovers trope is my favorite. I fell for Polin first, read the book, and was eager for their season. After the first season of Bridgerton, I started following  only Nicola, my favorite from the Derry Girls cast also. Then came Season 2, and I really liked Luke and the unique chemistry he and Nicola shared. There was something different about it, and I found myself watching their interviews. They were so adorable in "Amours ou Petits Fours" that I started following Luke Newton too.

I wasn’t shipping them yet because Luke was in a serious, real relationship at the time, one that was also worth rooting for. But when that ended, the idea of Nicola and Luke together began to grow in my heart. Their interactions were sweet, and their evident chemistry bled into everything they did together. I was a casual shipper until that photo of them after his play made me truly invested and hopeful. Then came the press tour in January, every interview, every interaction between them only strengthened what I was feeling. I fell for Lukola even harder.

What I saw, I can’t unsee. This has taken up a significant and unexpected place in my life. It feels different from anything else; I don’t usually follow celebrities this closely. I have always maintained a respectful distance and never invested myself like this. I’m not sure how I got here, but I know it’s not meaningless. There’s a reason for this pull, and while I don’t know exactly what that reason is, I believe it’s because I sense the love between them, it transcends the screen and radiates in my heart, deep and intensely beautiful.

I consciously joined the fandom to see if I was the only one feeling this way, and it’s clear I’m not. My perception of the reality might be altered, but I believe in what I see. Even if they choose to identify as friends, I believe that what they have is love.

Real, pure, and rare love, a powerful force that transcends time and circumstances. It isn’t rushed or forced; instead, it unfolds naturally, growing deeper as both people learn and grow together. This kind of love is built on genuine connection, mutual respect, and shared values, creating a bond that withstands the ups and downs of life.

Why does it matter? Because pure love brings out the best in each person, allowing them to be their true selves without fear of judgment. It’s not about grand gestures but the quiet, consistent presence that reassures and supports. This love matters because it’s authentic and unwavering, offering comfort and joy that can't be easily shaken.

Such love, though rare, finds its way when the time is right. It doesn't conform to external pressures or expectations; it simply exists, patient and steadfast. When allowed to flourish in its own time, this kind of love creates something beautiful and lasting, reminding us that the best things in life are often worth waiting for. As someone who hopes to see Lukola flourish, there’s a special kind of joy in watching two people whose bond transcends their characters on screen, finding connection and harmony in real life. It’s about witnessing moments of genuine affection, support, and camaraderie that hint at something deeper, something real.

This kind of love is worth cherishing and believing in because it reminds us of the beauty that exists in a World that can feel harsh and cold, in a reality that is disheartening and disappointing. It’s the unspoken looks, the shared laughter, and the way they uplift each other in subtle, bold and meaningful ways.

Hoping for Lukola to come to fruition isn’t just about a fandom fantasy, it’s about rooting for a connection that feels authentic, organic, and rare. It’s about believing that what we see is not just a projection of our hopes but a reflection of something real and beautiful that can grow stronger with time.

True love doesn’t need to rush; it will come to fruition when both people are ready to embrace it fully.

If we choose to stay in this Fandom, we’ll have to act very demurely and very mindfully. If this love is meant to be, it will find its way, blossoming when the time is right, and that is a story worth waiting for.

[love-marimo]

Photographer!Reader x Zoro

ー another self-indulgent hcs of a photographer reader joining the strawhat crew and making zoro their muse.

ー as always, asks are open!

cw: none, just teeth rotting fluff ♡

being the photographer of the strawhats is like the cherry on top of a cake. you love writing logs of the photos you take and it makes recordkeeping of your adventures so much easier.

plus, if everybody's bored on the ship and wants a good laugh, they'd ask for your camera or a photo album to look back at some of the funny moments that you captured on your voyage.

whenever there's a feast or celebration going on, you're instantly on your feet taking pictures such as luffy eating so much or chopper's starry eyed expression while he admires his big cotton candy.

but you get nervous when you take pictures of zoro.

i mean, to you, it's just a silly little crush. you just admire him, is all.

yeah, what a bold-faced lie. you're completely head over heels for him.

it started when you first saw them land in your country. when luffy heard of your name as a famous photographer, he was interested in meeting you and thought of letting you join his crew.

most of the strawhats were ambivalent because the voyage is dangerous, and you might not be well equipped for battle, but they thought they might as well give it a shot. it wouldn't be bad to have a recordkeeper in the crew, right?

zoro was the first one to find you.

he was lost wandering in the bustling streets of the city that you live in until he came across your studio.

you like taking photos of warriors, swordsmen and samurais and your studio had a sword logo in it so he assumed it was a weapon store.

assuming you weren't around, he took his time browsing through the albums and coffee table books on the table.

you were cleaning on the second floor of your studio after a session when you noticed a presence in your area so you went down and you found zoro casually flipping through the photos you captured, seemingly immersed in them.

"oh! hello, sir. have you booked an appointment?"

as soon as he looks up at you, it was like an eureka moment.

you found your muse. and he is the infamous pirate hunter.

you've seen his bounty, and you've heard a lot about zoro.

and of course, you wanted to take at least one photo of him.

"hey. do you sell weapons here?" he asked.

you stared at him for a while, and when you caught yourself, he was raising a brow at you, asking again.

"uhm, no… this is a photo studio." you smiled, scratching the back of your head, blushing a little. what am i embarrassed for? you ask yourself.

"i see. i thought this was a store because you have so many pictures of weapons outside."

"they're from my travels, actually. i admire swordsmen and warriors so whenever i get the chance, i take photos of them."

"so you're a photographer?"

you nod in reply.

you exchanged idle chatter for a while when you heard another voice coming in from the entrance.

"is it here? okay, thanks!" it was luffy and the rest of the strawhat crew.

long story short, you got recruited.

you're pretty good in combat, after surrounding yourself with swordsmen, so you learned a lot from their techniques as you travelled the seas.

luffy would bother you the most, asking you to take pictures of him making a funny expression.

franky would make you a device where you can virtually store all the photos you take. much to the joy of the whole crew of course.

now here comes zoro.

at first, it was photos of him napping and snoring. most of them were luffy, usopp, and chopper's idea. when you got a funny angle, you'd take a photo of him and show it to them.

you still found him attractive, even though those pictures of him were unflattering.

the crew (especially sanji) would laugh at zoro's photos and he would be the butt of the jokes for a while. it would get him flustered and annoyed.

then over time, you got a little more confident and you'd climb up the crow's nest to take photos of him training.

little did you know, he's just a little embarrassed to look into your eyes through the lens of your camera.

and you felt the same.

"oi, stop that." he says, looking away.

you giggle in reply, winking at him and sticking out your tongue.

then, you became more comfortable with each other, and the photos you took of him were much more candid and something straight out of a movie.

there were photos of him solemnly looking out to the sea, eating a meal quietly, cleaning his swords, drinking sake, laughing heartily, smiling at the camera… the list goes on.

one day, when sanji opens your camera to find some photos to laugh at, he was flabbergasted at the amount of zoro's good quality photos.

he'd whine to you why he never gets ones like him.

and he'd complain why there were so many photos of zoro.

"it's practically filling up the storage." sanji complains.

"my, it's kind of romantic!" brook comments.

the whole crew went silent for a bit at the dining table.

when you and zoro both realized what was going on you said:

"shut up!"

you buried your face in your hands.

"well… i…" you nervously chuckled.

"it's not what you think." zoro defended.

"if you want to kiss each other, we have plenty of rooms for you to get comfortable." robin laughs.

remember the photo storage device franky built you?

you asked him to make another one specifically for zoro's photos.

it's pretty unfair to be honest.

the crew wishes you would do the same for them.

but then again, you take a lot of photos of them to begin with, so in the end, all is well.

they just accepted the fact that you're into him like that. i mean, what can they do anyway?

there was one time where it's the golden hour, and zoro was a bit tipsy.

his cheeks were dusted with a faint tinge of red. you thought he looked cute so you brought out your camera.

zoro was comfortable with your antics now, so he grinned at you, reaching out his hand holding the bottle of liquor.

"hey. want some?" he said.

*click*

you captured a photo of him with a grin, his pose seemed like he wanted to give the viewer a hug, and the sunset made the lighting look like it was straight out of a film.

"do you want to see it?" you offered.

he gestured for your camera and looked at his own photo.

silence fell on you for a while, then he smiled again, ruffling your hair.

"it's a good photo."

no amount of sunlight could reflect how red your cheeks grew.

it was one of the rare times he complimented you and your work.

suffice to say, your passion for photography never died down because of him. ♡

ー Lolita

[theheroheart]

Rogue got delivered a day early.

Gonna put a whole bunch of quotes and observations and things under the cut, very Rogue focused.

SPOILERS, OBVIOUSLY.

Also I will say, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE buy this book, it absolutely deserves it, I adored it. It was wonderful and gave us SO MUCH.

Rogue's former partner is a he, and he's Rogue's boyfriend. His name is Art, which is indeed short for Artificer (reference to D&D). And Art is confirmed dead at this point, and has been for 5 years. Rogue and Art were together for 10 years.

Rogue jumps off a building at some point, knowing Art will save him.

Art was tall with shoulder-length curly hair and wore a sleek purple tunic, rolled up at the sleeves. On top of this was a metallic chest-piece that crackled with electrical energy. On his head he wore a pair of steampunk goggles that complemented his hazel eyes. As he pulled on the net, a long grey scar could be seen on his arm, a memory from a battle lost years before. As the net neared the ship, Rogue smiled up apologetically at Art. But judging by the icy look he got back, well - he couldn't smile his way out of this one.

Rogue doesn't like parties. Partly because he prefers "a good night in". (Though Rogue cannot cook, lmao.) And partly because while "watching the wealthy gorge themselves" he knew "most of the population was living in abject poverty." Rogue says eat the rich.

It was an odd feeling to think that nights like that wouldn't be on the cards for Rogue and hadn't been in fact for a long time. It's strange, the shape time takes when you lose someone. One morning they are next to you, on their pillow, and the next morning you realise they haven't been sleeping there for nearly five years. The five years had gone by slowly and quickly, all at once, Rogue's bounties all blending into one another. It wasn't that Rogue hadn't continued to live, or even to love a little bit. But when you felt you'd lived through the main event of your life, everything else - that extra bit of life you found yourself wandering through - was a bit like an epilogue. Rogue would walk the ship, each night, inspecting every weathered part. A fading heartbeat of a life once lived. He could no longer think about that day. That time. He felt more ghost than man at this point. That was why it was so surprising when Rogue gazed down at the ballroom below and suddenly found himself transfixed. There was a man in the middle of that dancefloor. A gorgeous man. But this wasn't just shallow attraction. There was an energy to the man. An unfiltered joy. Something Rogue instantly knew he wanted to be close to.

There's minor dialogue changes, as there usually are.

'You know, I can help you,' the man went on. 'Trouble, I am good at.' It was then that Rogue emotionally left his body and starting panicking a good 50 feet above the scene playout out below. Was this man handsome? Yes. Was there a bit of chemistry here? Yes. Did the man smell surprisingly nice for someone from 1813? Absolutely.

Instead of going outside, Rogue and the Doctor get punch and actually chat together.

Rogue recognised her as the woman the Doctor had been spinning joyfully across the dancefloor. "You okay?" the Doctor said, concerned. "Yeah. Just, avoiding engagement." She noticed Rogue. "So you found a scandal, then?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her as if to say - you behave! - but she just laughed and rushed off down a corridor. Rogue watched it all play out, intrigued. So his dance partner does know him then. But how well? The Doctor turned back and looked into Rogue's eyes, apparently noticing his puzzled expression. "Don't trouble yourself, love; she won't need me till there's screaming, or smoke, or both. Or Goblins. Right now, I'm all yours." Rogue nodded. Okay, Goblins - interesting - but the Doctor could just be a fan of fairytales.

Rogue imagines conversations with Art sometimes, and in this case, Art is encouraging Rogue to flirt with the Doctor. "The fantastical joy of dead boyfriend imagination theatre."

Usually, the imaginary conversations Rogue had with him were when he was alone in the ship but in moments of crisis sometimes, he would imagine him, a life raft in a sea of social interaction nightmares. "Would you let go, for a second. Flirt back. Ask him about his favourite paintings, the wonders of the universe." Rogue looked at Art. "He's from 1813." Art laughed. "Okay, well ask him about the wonders of lawn bowls then, who cares." Rogue sighed. "It was always so easy with you. Why can't it be easy with anyone else?" Art gave him a knowing smile. "You gotta be willing to let it be easy." He gestured back to the Doctor. "Now, come on, you can't just bat your pretty eyes at him." Rogue looked at Art and batted his eyes. "Oh, I absolutely can." "What are you blinking at?" the Doctor asked, intrigued, and Rogue found himself snapped out of his daydream and back into reality. Rogue apologised. "Sorry. A ghost."

The Doctor continued to sip. "You know, I think it's kiwi. No, they aren't here for another century. So what are the green bits?" Immediately, Rogue let go of his fleeting feelings of enjoyment and replaced them with cold resolve. How could the Doctor know something like that? He talked about the present and future like they were all the same to him. No, Rogue had found his bounty and it was time to get back to work. The manor was too busy, too full of guests. He needed a safer place to capture him. Somewhere he could get him alone. "Why don't we continue this conversation in the garden?" Rogue said, a flicker of mischievousness in his eyes. The Doctor laughed. "Fast mover, let's go."

The dialogue confirms again and again that they are SO FUCKING THIRSTY FOR EACH OTHER THE ENTIRE TIME. Besties, please.

He looked back at Rogue, walking, brooding (of course), and had to remind himself that this was an interrogation, not a date. "I love these old skies. Ripe with constellations being found and named." He gestured above, pointing out his favourite constellations. "The bear, the ram ... the poop-deck." "The romance of the night sky," Rogue replied sardonically as he gave the Doctor an oh really look. That stare of his. The Doctor laughed. "Don't blame me! De Lacaille chose them! Great astronomer, bad with names." Then he smiled cheekily. "But if it's romance you're after? He also named those stars there the pump, the chisel, and Norma." Okay, he was flirting now. Ruby would be furious with him if this silly side quest was what got him killed. "Not what I'm after," replied Rogue, his tone back to matter-of-fact but his face blushing a little.

Rogue made the gun himself!

"Keep moving," Rogue replied languidly. Another day at the office for this guy. The Doctor turned his head back to check on the glowing chamber of the blaster. "Is that a glo-stick?" He knew he had said something good because he got the biggest reaction from Rogue yet, hearing him grunt then look immediately offended. "Glo-stick? I made this!" Rogue bit back. Okay, we have an ego here and apparently an inventor, thought the Doctor. That's- "Cute," he said, which only spurred on Rogue. "It's not cute, it's a disseminator. It's very complicated." "Like its owner." The Doctor grinned. He figured if he was going to get killed, he might as well enjoy himself.

Their ship is named the Yossarian.

You can tell a lot about a person by the ship they fly in, thought the Doctor. It's home away from home. Which explained why he was shaken by what he say. Granted, he had made some assumptions about Rogue, but this dimly lit and cluttered space was not what he had expected. It was an absolute mishmash of tech, half-made projects, tools and strange-looking things in piles or cages. It looked and smelt like a mechanic's workshop. In the corner was a cockpit for flying, pretty much hidden behind a stack of metal toolboxes and a hammock slung in the corner, he assumed for sleeping but perhaps eating as well? Oh, Rogue, he thought. What happened, love?

The mess aside, the make of the ship did not surprise. It was an old asteroid hawk from the 50-56, often sold on the cheap in many star systems. In anyone's ship was a shed, this was the one. He looked across the console, trying to see if there might be anything useful to help him escape or at the very least steer the conversation towards suggesting Rogue should get a broom. [...] On the console was an Ood translation sphere, plugged into the ship's controls. It would allow Rogue to understand the local languages wherever he travelled, but the Doctor's attention was taken more by the can of unfinished Gurgle balanced dangerously on top. It was a dusty can. Left there a long time ago.

The spaceship scene is very similar, just tiny differences. Although it confirmed that the Doctor has played D&D, specifically with the Paternoster gang, and that Strax played a bard with a beautiful singing voice.

The Doctor also thinks about Fourteen, thinking that he likes him and hopes he's living his best life right now.

Different past selves of the Doctor, different genders and ages, all projected on top of his current form. Right now, standing in the middle of the Yossarian, he was revealing his true heart. His power. His strength. His undeniable wonder. The Doctor looked from the scan back at Rogue, right in the eye. "I am not a Chuldur. I am something much older and far more powerful. I am a Lord of Time from the lost and fallen planet of Gallifrey." He took a deep breath. "Now, let me go, Bounty Hunter. We have work to do." Rogue just started in awe, taking in the Doctor, all of them. "You're beautiful," he said.

And then you get a long lovely flashback to Art and Rogue having a romantic dinner. (And I would just like to say that I 100% called the Artificer thing.)

"You are so stubborn!" Art said, lowering his spoon. "I told you not to put more chilli powder in, yet here we are." Rogue laughed. "Look, I tried really hard to make us this terrible meal." "Now, hold the phone, I did not say this was terrible, I just said you deliberately ignored my advice." "Unwanted advice," Rogue replied. As he took another mouthful, a tear started to form in his eye. The stew was too hot, but he was never going to let Art know that. "I can see you crying," Art said. "There's a literal tear, rolling down your face." Rogue looked at him, faux dramatic. "I'm just feeling really emotional about my chair over there, that you still haven't fixed. Art laughed. "Oh it's your chair now, is it?" Rogue smiled and wiped away the tear he had pretended was not there with his sleeve. He continued to look around the ship, at the home he and Art had made together. Art had built everything on the Yossarian and nearly every gadget Rogue used on the missions. The emphasis on 'nearly' was because Rogue had foolishly attempted to build a few of his own. It was a learning curve for him. A steep one. Where Rogue had charm in spades, Art had a talent for turning a kitchen spoon into a deadly laser ray. He could do anything. The name Art had also come from Dungeons & Dragons, a shared pastime and passion between them both. Art was short for Artificer; this was a class in the game known for their invention and incredible ability to see the full potential in objects, and it suited Art to a tee. Rogue could never pin down exactly when the nicknames had started. Like so many things when you've been with someone for a very long time, it had begun as a cute reference, but then the nicknames just became everyday for them until, eventually, the old names just didn't fit any more. They were just Rogue and Art to each other. And that suited them both fine.

"You know, I could go undercover next time," Art said. "Oh yeah," Rogue said playfully. "Last time we tried that, you gave someone our actual contact details." "We got on! An alias shouldn't prevent an actual friendship." Rogue nodded. He got up, went round the console and put his arms around Art, nuzzling into his shoulder. "I guess it's how I met you," he said, and the pair of them laughed. Art smelt like a warm fire. He was taller than Rogue, only by a bit, but it meant he looked up to him slightly, which was a bit of a novelty for Rogue, who was usually the tallest in the room. He took in Art's face: every line, pore, the stubble, the striking, hazel eyes. Art looked back down at Rogue, and it looked as if he was about to say something deeply profound or romantic. "So, is this your apology for dinner?" Rogue leant in closer. "Oh, never," he murmured.

Oh also, Rogue hadn't meant to give the Doctor that name.

"Does 'not a Lord' have a name?" "Rogue." Immediately, Rogue panicked. It wasn't his actual name - Rogue was the name that Art had given him - but it would do fine. For now. [.....] "You ready for this, Rogue?" It was funny hearing someone else call him that, but his name sounded good being said by the Doctor. Rogue liked it. It fitted.

Also Rogue "immediately recalled a quite complicated winter with Houdini". Apparently him and the Doctor has an ex in common.

They explain what happened to the gun.

"Now, trap, please." Rogue handed it over but immediately regretted doing this so willingly. Sure, this man's ship was brilliant. But the trap, that was his. "And your disseminator?" "Only if you handle it carefully," said Rogue, keeping his eyes locked on the Doctor, worried what the plan could be for his precious creation. The Doctor took it calmly. Then he snapped the disseminator in half. "Hey!" Rogue shouted. "Do you want to save everyone or not? Look, watch me." And Rogue did, as the Doctor moved some parts from the disseminator into Rogue's trap, then attached it to the TARDIS, using cables. Rogue found himself fighting not to remember the hours of work that building the disseminator had taken. He had to let this go. "Okay, past me the hyperdyne link," said the Doctor. "Blue wire, under the switch, there." Rogue did as he was told, eager to see exactly what new monstrosity the Doctor had turned his favourite gadget into. The Doctor grabbed the cable and plugged it into the newly upgraded trap. It sizzled slightly. "I can't believe you broke my stuff!" Rogue complained. The Doctor stopped what he was doing and looked at him, dead serious. "Whatever the Chuldur have done, I can't let you kill them. I also can't let them kill others. So, instead, we'll send them to a random, barren dimension. No one to hurt there and no way back." "Random? So I can't trace them," Rogue protested. The Doctor just nodded as the trap continued to whirr behind them. "Don't pout too much. When we're not trying to kill each other, we're a good team."

"You know, you don't have to stay a bounty hunter. You could travel with me. Oh the worlds I could show you, Rogue." "And what if I like what I do?" Rogue got the feeling that when people met the Doctor, they would often uproot everything for him. Why should that always be the case? Rogue had just as much to offer in adventure.

"I'd like that." Rogue felt that swell in his chest, that nervous energy as he took another step towards him. He was very aware that their faces were almost touching. It would only take one of them to lean in a bit closer, and they were already so close, so close that they could almost-- Ping! The console in the TARDIS chimed. "The trap is ready," the Doctor said, and the moment was gone. He moved back to the console as Rogue stood there, recovering. He could hear the Doctor speaking down at the console, but he barely registered what he was saying. He just nodded, lost. What was he getting himself into?

And then I went ahead and typed up the entire chapter 19, because the whole thing is an imaginary letter from Art to Rogue.

Chapter 19 A Letter to Rogue Dear Rogue It feels silly, writing you this letter, but I hope it finds you. So we're clear too, I don't want this as a Please don't mourn for me or some other such nonsense. Honestly, I am quite irritated that it wasn't you that died... Would I say that? I suppose. Whatever helps your imagination. I know you've likely dreamt up and read this letter many times. I fully understand why; I was good chat. However, if only for your negotiation skills, I hope you've made at least one friend since my passing. Imaginary letters from dead boyfriends can't be your only form of communication. Of course, if the person reading this is his only friend then I gleefully warn you: Rogue is stubborn. He says he will clean that particular corner of the ship, but I promise you he won't. I spent ten years asking and I could have put that time into something actually productive. I could have learned at least five more languages in the time I would have saved. So take my advice. Give in to this reality. Admit defeat. It will never happen. A few other things to note: his snoring can and will wake up the most dangerous animals, and for some reason - despite eating pretty much everything - bread with any kind of seeds or olives in is an absolute no. I agree, it's a real failing on his part. Apart from this, however, what you will find is a great man who I loved with every part of my soul. Please give him a hug from me and do not name a child or dog in my memory when you move in together. A cactus is fine, though. And Rogue, if it is you reading this letter, don't let me worry about you. I did enough of that when I was around and oh, the time I wasted. Don't hide. And please don't go fixing up our ship for ever. I was the mechanic anyway. Live. Talk with everyone. Laugh. Dare to ask someone, 'Is this seat taken?' And, most importantly, don't forget to dance. That's the best part. Yours, Art

So anyway, after that heartbreak, it's back to more action.

"Should we be telling humans?" Rogue asked cautiously, leaning in behind him. The Doctor noticed Ruby's curious expression. "Oh! Ruby 2024 and Emily 1813, this is Rogue, he's a bounty hunter and almost incinerated me." "A mistake he said he was letting go of." Rogue held out his hand to Ruby and Emily, who both went for it at the same time and ended up shaking it together.

"But what does it all mean?" Emily gasped. "Are we all going to die?" The Doctor and Ruby exchanged a look: Who is going to take this? To their surprise, Rogue stepped up. "There's a creature from another planet at this party," he said. "Highly dangerous, it can look like anyone it's killed and if it gets you ---" He looked at her, dead serious. "It'll drain your life in a second." Emily's eyes widened and she hurriedly began to fan herself, presumably as an alternative to fainting. "We need to work on your people skills," the Doctor said as Ruby put her arm around Emily, trying to calm her. "Now, let's find our Duchess!" He looked over at Rogue, exhilarated. This was one hell of a first date.

The Doctor could already feel people starting to turn and whisper but his focus wasn't on that. All he was thinking about was Rogue. Rogue's hand on his shoulder, his chest. Rogue's eyes locked with his as the pair of them turned and twirled across the floor.

"We need to have a big fight so I can storm off alone and draw her to us," the Doctor said, spinning Rogue away from him. "Can't I storm off alone?" said Rogue. "I would rather not talk in front of this many people." "Oh, come on, Rogue," said the Doctor. "I'm sure you talk to lots of people. Your bounties for a start." He gave his hand a little squeeze and whispered, "I believe in you." "Doctor, please!" Rogue protested. He was too late. The Doctor pulled away from him and gasped. "How dare you, my Lord!" he shouted. He was incredibly pleased to hear the music stop immediately, the crowd turning to stare. It was so deliciously dramatic. "You would ask me to give up my title, my fortune -" he chewed up every word, really hamming it up - "but what future can you promise me?" Rogue didn't say a word back. He just looked at him pleadingly and stuttered slightly. "Say anything," the Doctor whispered, then raised his voice again. "Tell me what your heart wants, or I shall turn my back on you for ever." By way of illustration, he literally did turn his back on Rogue. He looked at the crowd, hearing nothing but silence behind him. Then a gasp. The Doctor turned and faced Rogue again, who was now down on one knee. He had pulled off a ring from his finger and was holding it up to him. Rogue was proposing. Fast mover indeed. The Doctor knew this was a moment of fun, for the drama. Despite that, he couldn't stop a jolt of panic. "Sorry... I can't," the Doctor said. He raced out of the ballroom, and Rogue chased after him.

The worlds I could show you. That's what the Doctor had said to him in the TARDIS. A phrase that was playing over and over in his head. Rogue looked over and saw the Doctor, waiting for him, hidden behind a hedge. He felt a rush of excitement as he tried to focus. He'd not been asking the Doctor for marriage, but for some simple commitment. A sign he could stay longer than this one adventure. To see those worlds he'd promised. At least for a little while. Now he couldn't stop wondering how much of their connection was real and how much had been for show.

To escape the Chuldur, Rogue and the Doctor dive into the lake, where Rogue finds the body of the real Lord Barton. He almost panics and has to go back up, but the Doctor takes his hand and calms him down, so they can stay hidden long enough.

They get out of the lake soaking wet, and the Doctor makes a comment about "Ruby was right, this is a bit Mr. Darcy."

Then there's a wonderful additional scene, where Rogue is initially refusing to help because it's too dangerous, and he's too scared after having lost Art.

He had expected one Chuldur, that was the contract. Not a family. He'd counted at least five. These were very bad odds. "I'm not being paid enough for this." "Paid or not, people have died." The Doctor had his sonic screwdriver out and he was fiddling with the waterlogged trap while they walked. Rogue thought he was as focused on fixing machines as Art had been. Annoyingly, both of them had the ability to do that and argue at the same time. "We go back there, we'll die," Rogue insisted. "So you'll just walk away?" Rogue stopped.

Rogue had read about family of Chuldur. One that had destroyed every place it visited, leaving no survivors. In the past, he would have dived headlong into this kind of danger without batting an eyelid. He loved the rush of adrenalin and he had that stubborn will to reach his target, whatever it took. Then he had suffered the cost. The Doctor was wrong. He wouldn't just walk away from all this. He'd run. "There's too many. It's not my problem." Rogue quickened his pace away from the manor and towards the Yossarian. This time, the Doctor did not follow him. He had stopped still, determined not to take another step. Rogue reluctantly stopped too and turned back to face him. "If it's not our problem, whose is it?" The Doctor's voice was cold, angry. "Who do you think will help these people if we don't? You're here. You've seen what they're doing. You are choosing not to care." In the dark garden, Rogue stood defiantly across from the Doctor, his breath shallow and fast. He'd hit a nerve. Rogue had had years of practice at not caring and didn't want to change now. The Doctor was calm in comparison, determined and immovable. Rogue knew that if he chose to walk away now, he would be walking away alone.

Rogue agrees to help, but is still scared and trying to convince the Doctor to leave with him, and WEEHH GUYS.

The Doctor was about to clamber through when Rogue reached for his hand. "Are you sure?" Rogue asked, his voice soft. They were facing beings that had destroyed cities, taken countless lives. How could the two of them stop such creatures? And with one shot? He felt a deep ache in his chest; he couldn't lose someone else. Rogue looked pleadingly at the Doctor. If he gave himself enough time and distance, he could learn to forget his troubles and bury his guilt. He could stop himself from caring. Rogue had done it before. He could do it again. He could show the Doctor how. "We could go anywhere," he said. "I'm going in here," replied the Doctor. Not a waver in his voice, not a second of doubt. Rogue looked into the Doctor's eyes and knew that he would never stop caring. Could never stop wanting to help, to fight, to go on. That was who he was. The Doctor let go of Rogue's hand and climbed in through the window, and Rogue did what he knew he would do for ever. Follow him.

Absolutely unhinged content, thanks Kate and Briony. Rogue wanting to leave makes his ultimate sacrifice SO MUCH MORE INTENSE.

When the Doctor finds out about Ruby, he almost lunges himself at the Chuldur, and Rogue has to pull him back so they can remain hidden.

And then, absolutely heartbreakingly, as the Doctor tries to find some other solution for maybe bringing Ruby back:

He was desperate, and Rogue's silence gave him every answer he didn't want. Rogue slowly opened his arms, and the Doctor fell into them and sobbed. "I'm sorry," Rogue said over and over.

The Doctor absolutely hams his speech up, and there's a minor change as Rogue is there to help him set up the triform trap. (Emily, like a fool, just accidentally walks straight into the trap!)

And then we reach the final sacrifice.

Seven… Rogue didn't want to push him, but they were running out of time. "They'll kill us, then everyone here. They'll destroy this world.' Six… Rogue was next to the Doctor now. He could hear him breathing hard. "And you know that, you absolutely know that." All that torment was wrapped so tight around his chest that Rogue could feel his heaviness, his dread. "So, can you do it? Can you lose your friend to save the world?" Five… The Doctor started to cry. "No." "I know." Rogue smiled at the kind, brilliant, amazing man in front of him. Four… Then he stepped forward and wrapped the Doctor in his arms and kissed him. It was a soft, passionate kiss, full of promise. The moment was tender. Romantic. It was theirs. Three… Rogue stepped back and gave the Doctor one last smile, revealing he had taken the trigger device from him. Then he turned quickly and ran full pelt into the trap. Two… It flicked on and off as the Chuldur tried to scramble to the edges. Emily moved a step towards Ruby, grabbing at her as Rogue barrelled in. He knocked Emily to the trap floor, causing Ruby to be thrown free. Only one shoe left behind. One… Rogue looked down at his feet inside the glowing triangle and back up to the Doctor. He was now trapped with the Chuldur, but he was not afraid. Rogue could not have let the Doctor say goodbye to the person he was closest to. He knew that pain too well to let the Doctor hold it, even for a second. And so he'd known the decision he had to make. He couldn't lose anyone else. But he was ready to be the one who was lost. Zero. "Find me," Rogue said as he pressed send. The patch of triangular floor turned jet black, as the Chuldur started to scream and fall. Rogue caught a last glimpse of the Doctor before he dropped down into the darkness of the Transport Gate. As he fell, his mind had one, clear thought. Worth every second.

The rest goes about as it does in the episode. We don't get the Doctor's immediate reaction to the loss. But as Ruby hugs him, "The Doctor leant into it and let himself feel what he had buried for a moment. Not all of it but just enough to carry on with the day."

And then of course he discovers the ring in his pocket and he puts it on. "A little piece of Rogue to go with him."

And you'd think that would be the end, but there is ONE MORE CHAPTER, which I'm just gonna quote in its entirety, because it's insane, you guys.

Chapter 33 The Forgotten Place A howl in the darkness. The wind growled ferociously around a barren and abandoned planet, far out in the forgotten reaches of space. Giant grey rocks covered the surface. As the wind hit them, charcoal-sand blasted up, creating sandstorms wherever it hit. This was the only movement on the surface and, at first glance, it would have seemed the only sign of life. But if you looked more closely, there was a light. From the mouth of a cave, the bright glow of a campfire burned through the grey. Inside, sat a man. Rogue. He was trying to keep warm. Rogue had been there for what felt like months. The cave had been a saviour, sheltering him from the environment but also from the enemies sent here with him. He had lost them, at least for now. As time passed in the cave, any concept of a day had folded in on itself. Rogue kept his mind busy with the simple tasks of staying alive: build the fire, watch the fire, build the fire again. Rinse, repeat. Thankfully, there was some food to be found on this planet - mainly winged dalnats and other small cave-dwelling creatures. But they were not enough. Rogue knew that if the cold didn't get him, starvation would. What this planet didn't know, however, was that Rogue could not be broken so easily. He had made a promise to himself. He had agreed that he wasn't going to be lost any more. Because Rogue had realised he was worth finding. As the fire began to die, Rogue thought of the man he had come here for. The magnificent being who was beyond any comprehension of existence. The one known to most as the Doctor. Of all the timelines they could both have inhabited, Rogue was grateful that their eyes had met on this one. What a great surprise that had been from the universe. Yes, right now, he was lonely, but time wasn't linear, and this was his favourite thing about it. Rogue was sitting in this cave, but he was also walking with the Doctor in the garden, he was laughing with Art in the Yossarian, he was falling from a building, he was running from one memory of his life to another. All at once. Rogue was in the Doctor's arms, spinning around and around, for ever.

So there it is. Absolutely gorgeous book.

There's a bunch of stuff I didn't include, a bunch of extra stuff about the Chuldur. But also the first adventure with Art, and a bunch of extra minor stuff.

So please please do get the book if you can!

[molotovgirl45]

Hiii! I have a TPN request for Emma and Ray (seperately).

Them x reader who is bubbly, childish, energetic, and kind gets shipped out and the next time they see them (reader was with Norman after they got shipped out), they were more reserved, soft-spoken, and mature.

Tysm and have a great day! P.S. Stay hydrated.

This genuinely sounds like something I would read, lol. I hope you enjoy, even though this isn't a total proof read. Just how i remembered. I did mainly just Ray, and im planning on making another version with Emma.This will be based off the manga, but I can make an anime version too. Here you go!

Tw: Violence, slight trauma, use of Y/n, slight angst at end.

Introduction Ray+Emma

After you got shipped out, you went to Lambda with Norman. That was definitely an eye opening moment for you, seeing all of the test subjects as you walked through the halls. You watched as they screamed, or tried to resist, but it was all futile. You watched as they morphed into horrific creatures, their wails echoing throughout the lab. That one moment, the energetic Y/n that everyone knew and loved faded. Throughout the months you spent alone in a small white box, your mind began to shape itself to your new environment. You never really knew what it was like to be injected with unknown treatments, or to be held down so they could test on you. That Era of your life left a mental scar, one that could probably never be healed.

Ray: Seeing you again.

"Long time, no see."

You smile softly at Emma and Ray as Norman stood by your side. Ray's facial expression went from stoic instantly it shock. Was this really you?

"... Y/n?"

Before you knew it, you felt something collide with you a little harshly. He had sprinted towards you, hugging you tight as if he would lose you again if he let you go for even a second. For the first time, Norman, Emma and you saw him cry. He was crying into your shoulder. That was... Unexpected. Half of you thought that he would act like he didn't care. You hug him back. Eventually, he spoke.

"Don't leave us like that again, Idiot."

You chuckled slightly.

"I missed you too, Ray."

Ray: Noticing your personality change

Back at the farm, you constantly would bug Ray, or try and play games with him. So when he asked you if you wanted to play a board game with him, and you didn't light up with that cute face you made when you were excited, he was confused.

"Hey, dumbass, do you want to play monopoly with Norman, Emma and me?"

You glanced up from the papers you were writing. You smile softly.

"Oh, I'm good, thanks."

... He blinked. Were they being serious?

"... What?"

You don't glance up this time, continuing to write some boring papers.

"I said I'm good, thank you, though."

Something was wrong. You *never* declined the opportunity to play a board game. Were they sad? Did he do something wrong that upset them? He frowned hard. Maybe they are just tired. He leaves, to go back to where Norman and Emma were.

A couple days after that, he walks by to see you... Reading? No, clearly something is wrong. You used to HATE books. You would only ever read them if Ray read them to you. He approached you, frowning again.

"What's wrong?"

Huh? You look up, a bit confused.

"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong."

"Did we upset you?"

You get even more confused.

"No..?"

He takes the book from your hands, seeing what it even is that you're reading. ... Pride and Prejudice? Yeah, something is definitely wrong.

"I'm sorry you feel neglected enough to read this."

Your confused expression increases in strength.

"Ray, nothing is wrong. What are you even talking abou-"

"-Y/n, you don't read. You've never read before, unless I was reading it to you. And last week you said you didn't want to play monopoly. Clearly something is wrong. Have you been getting enough sleep?? Sleeplessness affects your energy and mood. Are you depressed or something? You know you can always talk to-"

"Ray!"

You yell, after a couple times he finally seemed to stop talking. You sigh, standing up from your seat.

"Ray, I'm fine. Truly. I just..."

You rub your temples.

"I just matured. Back at the farm, we were together. We all helped each other out, and that gave us all hope. But when you're alone, in an environment like the Lambda, you just... Change. I can't help the fact that I had to mature before I was supposed to. But I'm telling you, I'm fine."

He stares at you for a while, before nodding in understanding. He gives you your book back.

"Sorry for bothering you, then."

He leaves, before you could stop him. You sigh, looking down at your book. You really had changed.

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Finding Each Other-Chapter 1

Fandom: Superman, Batman, Shazam, and Wonder Woman

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Dick Grayson, Diana Prince, Billy Batson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Kara Zor El, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth, Lex Luthor, Jonathan Kent, Connor Kent

Summary: Clark Kent always knew he wanted a family. He just always thought it would be traditional like his parents. Little did he know that destiny had something different in store for him.

When Clark was growing up, society had a way of strongly instilling in him that a nuclear family was the norm. A mother, a father, a son, and a daughter. There were examples of it in every TV show he watched, and every book and magazine he read.

However, that all changed when his parents dropped a bombshell on him when he was twelve. The first of his many powers, heat vision, came in. Needless to say, he was scared shitless especially since he burned multiple holes into his room while screaming like a maniac. It was at that point his parents revealed the truth that they didn’t just adopt him. They found him in a spaceship that had crashed into their barn. When his parents showed it to him, he couldn’t believe it. He stared at the ship for a while before touching it and when he did, it instantly brought out a hologram of his biological dad explaining that he was the last son of a dying planet. Clark soon became overwhelmed and a new power emerged, super speed, that helped him run away to cool his head in Antarctica of all places. 

Soon he started to figure out other things about himself. While he found women attractive, he felt the same way about men too. He made that discovery when he saw Morgan Jackson exiting the shower room at school wet. His parents discouraged his powers in public, but he made the exception that day to avoid his fellow peers seeing the bulge that had started to form in his pants. At that point, he started to realize that he was not the norm. As he got older, he began to wonder, what is the norm? That question came up more and more after he entered college. What was normal in his conservative small town was vastly different from the outside world. The nuclear family doesn’t have to be a man and woman having 2.5 children. It can be two males having a child, or two females having a child. A single person can have a child by themselves. Hell, you don’t have to have children to become a family. Being blood doesn’t always make you a family. Sometimes people find others who share the same goals as they do and make their own families. Clark always wondered what type of family he would have. He always admired his family's upbringing, but often wondered if destiny had something else different in store for him. Little did he know, he would start on his journey to familyhood a couple of days before his 24th birthday.

Clark was just about to go to bed for the night after patrolling Metropolis when he received a call from Lois asking him to come over. She said she was fine, but it was 3 am when she called. He had known her for four years and she had never called that late. Clark quickly changed back into his super suit and went to her apartment. He landed on her balcony like he had thousands of times before. She was one of the few people who wasn’t instantly fooled by the glasses and plaid shirts. Lois had figured out Clark's identity the second day they met. However, she kept it a secret and they have been best friends ever since. When Clark came in through the balcony of her apartment, he spotted Lois in the living room pacing back and forth. 

Clark frowned and said, “Is everything alright Lois?”

Lois looked up startled at Clark and said, “Oh, Clark. I didn’t realize that you arrived already.”

Clark looked at her hesitantly and said, “Well, you did ask me to come over. You sounded kind of off over the phone. Did something happen?”

Lois looked at him hesitantly for a moment before looking downward and twiddling her thumbs.

Clark went up to Lois and gently took her hand to lead both of them to the couch to sit down. 

Clark then turned to her and said, “You know Lois, you can tell me anything. I promise not to judge no matter what it is.”

Lois looked at him with weariness in her eyes and sighed.

“I found out some upsetting news about my family history.”

Clark frowned and said, “What?”

“Lucy and I always avoided my mom’s side of the family. Our dad went no contact with them after our mom died when I was four. We got back in contact with them when we found out my sister was sick this year.”

“You mean when Lucy found out she had stage II ovarian cancer?” asked Clark.

Lois nodded and said, “Yes. We knew that cancer was not common on our Dad’s side, but her doctor recommended Lucy find out our mother’s side because the particular strain of cancer that Lucy had seemed more aggressive than usual. She was able to beat it for now but after many surgeries though. We decided to talk to our maternal grandfather who informed us all the women in his family had gotten cancer. The women in the family die from it before the age of 40.”

Lois had tears started flowing down her face. 

Clark instantly embraced her and started rubbing soothing circles around her back. 

“I am so sorry to hear that,” said Clark softly.

Lois sniffed while pushing back from Clark and said, “Lucy is pissed and has been directing her anger at our father. If he had let us interact with our mom’s side sooner, we would have been better prepared. My dad wants me to talk to her to calm her down, but I can’t blame her for being angry though.”

Clark noticed that she avoided details and asked, “Did you get yourself tested?”

Lois nodded while sniffling and said, “I did. I have tested clean so far. However, I am going to have to be tested every couple of months for it.”

Clark looked started and asked, “Every couple of months?”

Lois nodded and said, “The cancer that the women in my family typically get is fast-acting, and they usually don’t find out until the cancer has reached its final stages. Lucy was lucky in a sense that she found out sooner than normal because she was injured during the line of duty and they found the cancer during their thorough examination of her.” Lois sighed while rubbing the back of her neck and said, “And this isn’t even half of it.”

Clark raised his eyebrow and asked, “Did something else happen?”

Lois leaned back in her chair and said, “While they did my examination, they did notice that my egg count was extremely low for my age.”

Clark frowned and asked, “What does that mean?”

Lois sighed and said, “The doctor said that if she had just looked at the test results without seeing me, she would have thought I was a woman in my mid-50s about to go through menopause.”

“Oh,” said Clark softly.

Lois wiped a tear that had started to trickle down her face and said, “It really sucks to know that your body is turning against you.”

Clark gave a soft smile while rubbing Lois’ back and said, “I am so sorry Lois.”

Lois smiled meekly and said, “I know it could be worse. It is just the news had made me reevaluate my life plans and goals and now I have to rearrange things that I was going to do way later.”

Clark raised an eyebrow and asked, “Like what?”

Lois looked at him nervously and said, “Remember how we said that if we didn’t find anyone by the time we were 40, we would have a child together.”

“Yes,” asked Clark warily. 

Lois chuckled nervously and said, “What would you think of doing it now?”

Read the rest on AO3

[acourtofthought]

The reason I can’t get behind the concept of Elain rejecting or “severing” the bond is because there is no indication that Elain and Lucien would be a terrible match. I saw art on reddit (I know I know, stay away from there) of a defiant Elain using truth teller to cut the bond and so many people were excited about it. But it did nothing for me, not even close to empowerment.

The context of this world, and these relationships, does not make the bond an inherent issue of sexism or lack of agency. The poor matches were revealed to be ones dependent on maximizing power, not compatibility. Elain and Lucien are highly compatible—their personalities, likes, interests, reactions to adversity, etc. So the idea of her “severing” the bond seems inconsistent with not only SJM’s themes, but also Elain’s best interests as a character.

Nothing about Azriel, nothing we have been shown of their interactions, tell me that Elriel is compatible, let alone a better pairing than Elucien. I’m not blind, I saw potato steam and Az listening to her garden plans and following her laugh on solstice. But those moments never endeared me to the ship because none of them held weight. None of them made me think of how Elain/Az have been portrayed independently of one another, let alone with synergy. In fact, when I have cross examined I found contention—they are incompatible.

Say what you want about aesthetics and repeated storylines, at the end of the day Elriel is a poor match. And nothing has convinced me otherwise 🤷🏾‍♀️

🧼💖

HIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (that looks weird with multiple i's and multiple exclamations but I was really excited to see you).

I also added a screenshot of your second anon so your messages could be viewed all together.

I could not agree with you more. We're definitely told that some bonds aren't a match but for every bond that was given as an example for why that was we can easily see that's not how Elain and Lucien are set up.

Rhys's father did not give his mother a choice, he instantly whisked her away and married her that evening. She wasn't given a chance to get to know him before being forced to decide what she wanted she was simply forced into it.

Lucien has done nothing but give Elain the space to do what she wants even if that meant returning to another man.

We also knew that Rhys's father was cold and vicious, two things we know that Lucien is not. His mother was soft and fiery (which sounds a lot like Elain). So if Rhys's father and mother were not a match, cold and vicious does not match with soft and fiery than it's safe to say that Lucien being the fathers polar opposite would be match for Elain's soft and fiery personality.

We also know that Tamlin's father was a tyrant and his mother refused to say a bad word against him. Again, Lucien is not a tyrant, not even close and we've already seen Elain stand up against people when she thinks they're wrong. So once more, Elain and Lucien do not match the qualities of another fated mates pair that was wrong for one another.

Like you said, everything about their personalities strongly suggest they're going to be amazing together. Elain can be stubborn for now, she can avoid her bond and Lucien, but there's little chance that won't change in future books. Sarah created too big a plot with their bond for them just walk up to one another after over a year of avoidance, after never having a real conversation and say, "best of luck to you!". There would have been absolutely no reason to introduce the bond in the first place if she wasn't going to explore it, even if it were to prove they weren't right for each other. But we know what will happen is that Elain will finally drop her guard and let herself see who Lucien is and there is no chance she's not falling for him. That's Sarah's m-fing Jamie Frasier right there and there's no way he's going to be anything less than perfection in Elain's eyes (as I imagine she already is in his).

To your point about Az, I was talking to someone about something similar the other day. There are a few cute moments between Elain and Az but they're never followed up by any possible foreshadowing to back the ship up. I.E. Sarah had Az give Elain TT but instead of expounding on that in the novella, giving us a scene where Elain asked for private dagger lessons (as she had Gwyn do), we instead had Sarah say, "Elain had pressed it into his hands as he had pressed it into hers and she did not look back". She also had Rhys say, "Elain is Elain but Nesta is....she's Illyrian." The author is literally telling us that Nesta fits in with the IC but Elain doesn't. Which continues on in SF where we're told she's bothered by cruelty and NC black sucks the life from her.

In contrast, we had the ACOWAR scene that has Elain saying she needs sunshine. Fast forward a few chapters and we have Feyre thinking how Helion is the sun personified. Fast forward a few chapters and we have the realization strike Feyre that Helion is Lucien's true father making Lucien the likely sole heir of Day. Meaning he will also be likened to the sun personified with sun in his veins all after his MATE said she needed sunshine. Follow all that up with the rose necklace (symbolic of Elain) which we're told needs held to the light in order to see it's true depth.

It's subtle, so easy to miss, but when you look at how Sarah lays out all these little clues it's brilliant and reads like a story when you put them together.

A cute quote here and there does not tell the full story of these characters, not when Sarah uses those crumbs to tell us a different story (just as she did with the Tamlin / Feyre / Rhysand setup). It was the crumbs that told the truth, not the in your face quotes like how Feyre wanted to bang Tamlin.

As always, thank you for your message, I hope you're well!!!

[cozage]

The Mystery Baker

A/N: just a morsel of Zosan Characters: Sanji x Zoro, but a few of the strawhats are included too :)  Total word count: 1.4k

Sanji hadn’t been off the boat for long. He only had to run and grab a few items from the island they had landed on, and he then had come right back, eager to wait on Nami’s and Robin’s every need. 

But when he entered the kitchen, the delightful smell of chocolate chip cookies filled his nostrils. On the cooling rack laid a dozen cookies, still warm from the oven. 

Cookies that he hadn’t made. 

Someone had been using his kitchen while he was gone.

He couldn’t think of anyone on the ship who would bake, especially while he wasn’t around. If anyone had needs, they simply asked him and he fulfilled them. He couldn’t decide if he should be annoyed someone used his space, or thrilled that someone was interested in the art of creating food. 

The cookies were still warm, but he picked one up and smelled it. They were made from scratch, he could smell the specialized ingredients in them. An over-indulgent amount of sugar, chocolate chips, vanilla, and a few ingredients he hadn’t expected to sense. Cream cheese, almond extract, and nutmeg..or was it cinnamon? It was so faint, he could barely make it out. 

Sanji bit off a small piece, curious how the flavors interacted with each other, and let out a soft moan from the taste. The cookies were a perfect mix of savory and sweet, the chocolate chips instantly melting in his mouth. 

Not that he’d ever admit it, but Sanji wasn’t sure if he could make a chocolate chip cookie that tasted this heavenly. The after flavors swirled and lingered in his mouth, making him fall in love with their creator without even knowing who they belonged to.

He shoved the rest in his mouth and plated a few to take along with him, eager to find out who had created them. It was clear that whoever had made this dessert had put extreme precision and care into the process. Such a feat was only handled by a woman’s gentle touch, so he set off to find Robin. 

“Robin, my love!” He sang as he danced over to her. “If you wanted to make sweets, all you had to do was ask!”

Robin’s eyes flicked up from her book and rested on the tray of desserts. 

“Cookies!” Nami called, walking up behind Sanji and plucking one from the plate. “Sanji, you really shouldn’t have!”

Nami took a bite, eyes rolling back in her head in delight. “You’ve really outdone yourself,” she praised, mouth still full. “These are amazing!”

Sanji gave a smile, pleased to see that Nami enjoyed them. But he couldn’t take the credit for them. “Actually, Robin-chan-”

“I didn’t make them,” Robin interjected, smiling as she watched Nami swoon over a dessert. “But I would like to try one, given Nami’s reaction.”

Robin tried to hide her satisfaction, but it was evident to Sanji that she had the same emotions towards the sweet as both he and Nami had. 

But now, Sanji was extremely confused. If it wasn’t Robin or Nami, then he wasn’t sure who had the capability to cook. In fact, there were probably only three other men on the ship who even knew how to use an oven, and he was certain none of them would have the touch to create such a delightful treat.

“Franky!” Sanji called, entering the workshop. “Did you use my kitchen while I was gone?”

Sparks flew from Franky’s project, but the cyborg stopped his experiment and turned his attention to the cook. 

“Oh hey, dude! Dinner time already?!” Franky set down his tools and brushed himself off, but Sanji shook his head. 

“Did you use the kitchen today?” Sanji asked again, holding up the tray of cookies. 

“Weird bribe, but no.” Franky took a cookie and threw it in his mouth. His eyes instantly sparkled, tears overflowing in an instant. 

“Hey man, these are like, the most super cookies I’ve ever had! Let me have another one!”

Sanji had a bad feeling in his gut now and quickly moved the tray away from the cyborg. 

“You’ll get better ones later!” he shouted, storming out the door and down the hallway. 

Nothing was making any sense. The only other person Sanji could see baking was Brook, but he didn’t even have tastebuds to make them. Everyone else was useless in the kitchen; worse than useless. 

Perhaps someone had snuck aboard and put poison in the cookies in an attempt to kill or weaken the crew. Perhaps a drug had been added to the mixture, and now half of the crew would be unable to fight if someone were to attack. 

That had to be the explanation. Even if he didn’t feel strange now, surely the effects would kick in soon. Of course nobody on the ship had cooked in his kitchen without his permission. Of course they had waited for him to get back. Of course he-

“What the hell are you doing with my cookies?” A gruff voice called from behind him, startling him from his thoughts. 

Sanji’s head swiveled around to find that annoying swordman glaring at him from down the hallway. 

The blonde scoffed. “These are not your cookies.”

“Like hell they’re not!” Zoro stormed toward the cook and snatched the plate from his hands. “I made them!”

Sanji reached for the plate, his anger rising. “You couldn’t make something this delicious, mosshead! Nice try!”

“What the hell do you mean?!” Zoro held the cookies just out of reach. “I made them while you were gone! I always make them while you go shopping!”

“I’ve never seen them here before!” 

Sanji lunged for the plate, but Zoro blocked him with his own body, and Sanji could smell the faint smell of vanilla and almonds on the swordsman’s skin. 

“I usually make them and eat them before you get back!” Zoro shouted, pressing his forehead against Sanji’s to keep him locked in place. “Don’t even give me shit about it, because I clean up everything and put it back before you finish your little island visits.”

His words gave Sanji pause. Being this close, Sanji could smell the chocolate and spices across Zoro’s breath, and for some reason he found himself flustered at his proximity to Zoro’s lips. 

He quickly ripped himself away from the swordsman, still glaring at him. There was no way that a shitty swordsman like him could create something sent straight from the heavens. Sanji refused to accept that. 

“And where exactly did you learn to bake like that?” Sanji shot back, trying to ignore the drumming in his ears.

“The dojo!” Zoro yelled. “We had a baking fundraiser every month to raise money! Now, do you mind? I’d like to go enjoy my cookies in peace!”

“Get out of my sight,” Sanji hissed, turning away from the swordsman. “And don’t use my kitchen without asking!”

“As if you’d ever realize I was in there!” Zoro yelled back, storming away. 

God, Sanji’s heartbeat was so loud in his chest, he was certain the whole island could hear it. And his face felt so abnormally hot that he had to go to the bathroom just to calm down. 

That damn swordsman was always pissing him off, making him worked up over things for no reason. He splashed some water on his face and checked himself in the mirror. His cheeks were still pink from how angry he was about the whole ordeal. 

He had been looking forward to convincing Nami or Robin to make a fresh batch with him by their side. He would have followed their every order and listened to their every demand. And once he had learned how to make them, those ladies would never have to work again. He would make them whenever they requested. 

But that hadn’t been the case. He couldn’t even admit that he was craving another one, because even just saying that would give the mosshead an overwhelming amount of satisfaction that Sanji refused to give him. 

He finally worked up the nerve to walk into the kitchen, where he found one chocolate chip cookie on a plate. A note lay next to it, and Sanji picked it up to read it. 

Since you thought they were so delicious, here’s another one. Will show you how to make them if you ask. 

Sanji had to admit, the idea of cooking with the swordsman by his side made his heart flutter.

[mazzystar24]

What I don't get is why people think it's problematic to still wish for Buddie. Like isn't it worse to be happy just because he's with a dude now. Like so you didn't ship Buddie for their amazing chemistry and history, you just shipped them because they were two hot dudes.

(This is not directed at people who are enjoying Tevan for the ride, this is about people who jumped completely)

((obviously bi Buck is important, but I don't think seeing it as a step towards Buddie is bad. We've been waiting for something like this for so many years))

Sorry but this is all that’s in my head^^

But yes yay now I get to have my rant-

The fact that so many people genuinely just wanted buck to end up with a dude is just

Look there is wanting representation which I GET I am all for

Then there is not caring about anything to do with that representation as long as you see two hot guys kiss

Representation without substance, meaning and actually changing what we usually see on screen is just so surface level

and listen we are ALL guilty of that thing where we hear about a show with a queer couple and we instantly get excited and rush over there but some of these people don’t give a shit about the storylines as a whole, the characters as a whole, character development, etc all those things that make representation MATTER

Like we aren’t just happy that bi buck is canon because oh look here’s a bi man character

No we are happy because we got to see his development we got to see his insecurities, history, his personality and his bond with these other characters through the years. Now look I’m not saying oh look at this fictional character think about his feelings, I’m saying that characters and their complexities drive a story they are what make me invested whether it’s a book a movie or show, and to not care about any of that just for the sake of tokenism is insane to me

I also feel it bares mentioning that this is one of the RARE times that this representation in media isn’t a case of tokenism like they’ve taken a character and built him and built the show and built the dynamics outside of his sexuality and made it canon in season SEVEN like Tim and Oliver and the entire team did something we don’t see much or ANY of in media like the way they made it is like we have this journey with the character like it’s a double blind test ( sorry I’m revising for a psych exam rn and my brain can only use that analogy) and until the reveal seven years in we don’t know for sure even if there have been inklings and people are more focused on the fact that oh look some hot dude kisses another in this show

Like genuinely ship what you want to ship and enjoy the time but don’t disregard meaningful potential representation which would have 1. A character navigating sexuality in a situation as complex as Eddie’s 2. A gay couple which wasn’t planned and they actually listened to fans for 3. A well done queer slow burn with the same gravity and meaningfulness that straight slowburns get

Thank you for the opportunity to rant anon🫡

Sorry for the long ass reply😭😭

Edit: also wanna add that yes I’m in analysing media mode because I also have sociology revision on representation in media🤭🤭

[angiechia]

Can I go?

(a 12 year old John and 22 year old Arthur short story)

Arthur goes hunting, John wants to go too

I realized a love writing this young John and young Arthur stories ^^ I've been having some rough days and this truly gaves me the serotonin im lacking lol

Again NO SHIP INTENDED please this is a kid and an adult😭 i just love their brotherhood so much

☆☆☆

Hosea placed the book back in front of the boy after he had thrown it to the ground in frustration.

"I don't want to! I don't know how!" John turned his gaze away from the book, resting his head on the table.

"Son, this isn’t like years ago. Nowadays, you can't go around not knowing how to read; it's necessary if you want to be somebody later on," Hosea explained patiently, though his voice carried a hint of annoyance.

"I don't want to be somebody! Don't you guys rob and kill? If I'd known this was a damn school, I would've run away from you two!"

"Then right now you'd be hanging by your neck like a Christmas ornament. Now sit your butt in that chair and read these letters!" Hosea quickly responded, managing to get a groan out of John as he reluctantly picked up the book. "Now, what does it say there?"

"...I don't know."

"Yes, you do, because you did it before. What letters are these?"

"...T...H...E?"

"Good, and what word does that make?"

"...The..."

"Exactly, John. See? You can do it. Now, the next letters."

"H...o...r...s...e," he pronounced the letters slowly.

"That's right, these letters make a longer word. What is it?"

"Uhm... House?"

A wheeze was heard behind them, and John quickly turned to see who it was. He frowned when he saw it was Arthur mocking him.

"The kid's dumber than a rock," Arthur said mockingly as he walked up behind them.

"I am not, you jerk!" John quickly slammed the book on the table, causing Hosea to let out an exasperated sigh—he had been so close.

"Arthur, don't make fun. You were as slow as a turtle when it came to reading a three-word sentence," the older man said, and Arthur made an annoyed face.

"HA!" John taunted, pointing at Arthur with his finger.

"Whatever," Arthur said, dismissing them as he started walking toward the horses. "I'm going hunting."

Something sparked in John's eyes as he quickly lifted his head when he heard the word "hunting." He watched Arthur leave.

"I'll read the sentence tomorrow!" he quickly told Hosea as he hopped down from his seat. "Not just the sentence, the whole page, please!" he begged to end today’s ‘class.’

Hosea sighed. "Alright, I reckon—"

"Thanks!" John shouted as he ran toward the stables.

He arrived just in time as Arthur was leading Boadicea out, walking alongside her. When the blue-eyed man saw the boy standing there expectantly, he only gave him an annoyed look and ignored him, continuing to walk.

John thought Arthur would ask what he was doing, but receiving only silence, he ran to catch up and walked beside him.

"Can I go?" the boy asked.

"No," Arthur replied curtly.

"Please! I want to go, I want to see what hunting is like!"

"No," Arthur repeated as he mounted Boadicea. The act surprised John, and before the tall, ill-tempered man could even think of leaving, John stood in front of the horse, stretching both arms out to the sides to block the way. "What in the hell are you doing, Marston?!" Arthur shouted angrily.

"Take me hunting with you, dammit!"

Arthur tried to steer the stubborn horse around the boy, but wherever he directed her, John quickly stepped in front again.

"Damn it, let me go! We need to eat!"

"If I go, we can hunt more!"

"You wouldn’t even hit a cow in a corral with a rifle. Now get out of here!"

"Arthur!" John cried out in desperation, making the mare nervous as she pinned her ears back. Arthur finally had enough of the brat.

"Damn it, John, get on!" John instantly lit up with excitement and let out a laugh.

He quickly ran to the side of the horse, and Arthur had lifted his foot from the stirrup for the boy to use it to climb up. John tried, but it was too high for him. He grunted and sighed in frustration, falling silent for a few seconds.

"Help me?"

"For heaven’s sake, come on!" Arthur grumbled as he reached down to pull John up. As soon as he was seated, Arthur took off at a trot, faster than John had expected.

"In the orphanage, there was a boy. I think his name was Bruce..." John started talking, and Arthur immediately let out an annoyed sigh, realizing the quiet ride he hoped for wasn’t going to happen. "Or was it Matthew?... No, no... Bruce. Yeah, it was Bruce because Matthew never rode a horse."

"Just get on with the damn story," Arthur urged.

"Well, he once told me that his pa was a farmer, and he bred racehorses, like, horses specifically for racing. And I asked him which horse was the fastest, and he said it was the Arabians. Is this one?"

"No, Arabians are too expensive," Arthur replied curtly.

"Oh... so what breed is this?"

"Hungarian Half-bred," again, Arthur answered in a dry and rough tone.

"Oh... and it’s a girl, right?"

"You see any balls?"

Despite Arthur's sharp response, John laughed immaturely at the comment. "No." He stopped laughing and paused before continuing. "Bruce once told me that boy horses—"

"Stallions," Arthur interrupted, as if superior for knowing horse terminology.

"Yeah, them. Is it true that in the cold their balls shrink?" The boy laughed again after saying that.

"I don’t know, John," Arthur replied. "Hey, what happened to that kid’s father?"

"Oh, he told me he found him dead. He got killed at the entrance of his ranch, by some men who, like, wanted to get revenge on him, I think."

"Jeez..." Arthur said, considering the possibility that the man might have been involved in something shady with the horse races. "And you? Why did you end up in an orphanage?" Arthur wasn’t known for his tact, often considered "heartless" by others in the gang.

"What’s it to you?" John snapped back.

"Damn, if you wanted to talk so much, I was just trying to make conversation."

"I don’t want to talk about it."

"Okay..." Arthur responded with neutrality.

When they reached the valley, they managed to hunt a deer. Arthur feared that bringing John along would scare off all the animals, but it seemed the boy knew when to keep his mouth shut when it mattered.

When they found the deer, John volunteered to carry it on his back, and even though it was clearly too heavy for him, he never gave up or told Arthur he couldn’t do it. Arthur respected that.

Now they were back on the horse, heading back to camp.

"So..." John started another conversation, "Next time we go hunting, I’ll bring a rifle, and—"

"That won’t happen. You don’t know how to use a gun yet."

"Yes, I do!... Well, sort of."

"See? I’m not risking getting shot by a kid."

"Then teach me!"

"No."

"I’ll tell Hosea to make you teach me."

"I still won’t do it."

"Arthuuuuur"

[thehusbandoden]

Mha Boys React to

You Not Saying I Love You Back

Izuku, Bakugou, Shoto, Kiri and Denki

Fluff- slight angst- crack

This is another old one 🥲

Mentions of KamiJirou and Izucho in Shoto's

Izuku:

You always loved pranking Izuku, you got lots of views, and your followers absolutely loved him. You've been hoping to try this trend for a while now, and decided that you would go through with it today. So, once Izuku was ready for work and came to say goodbye, you had a camera hidden as you sat on the couch, reading a book.

Izuku strolled over to you on the couch and kissed your head gently. "I'm leaving now Puppy, I love you, I'll see you tonight." Smiling you kissed his lips gently, "K. See you tonight Zuku." Frowning slightly Izuku stood there for a few moments before gently petting your head, "I love you."

You nodded and grabbed his hand to leave a gentle kiss. "I know, bye Baby." Frowning deeper Izuku took both of your hands and made you look him in the eye. "I love you." ".... I know." "That's not what you're supposed to say." Izuku frowned. Forcing yourself not to break you say, "Bye~!" "Do you not love me?! What did I do wrong?! I'm so sorry! Was it because I- *Panic muttering*".

Finally not being able to take it you burst out in laughter. "No~! Baby~ it was a prank! I love you, I love you, I love you!" You exclaim, wrapping Izuku in your arms, kissing his forehead in between your multiple 'love yous'. "Oh, I thought you didn't love me anymore! (y/n)~ don't do that to me~!" Izuku whined, causing you to giggle even more.

Bakugou:

Your followers LOVED your husband. I mean, he was HILARIOUS! They ate up his reactions in literal seconds. Whenever you posted a prank, or any kind of video/short with him in it, it would instantly blow up. And so, you decided to do one of your followers recommendations.

I mean, you knew that your husband would explode, but you knew that he wouldn't kill his (s\o). Right??? And so, right before your husband was going to go out with his friends you set up a camera in your living room, hiding it with the number 2 hero Lord Explosion Murder Dynamite's merch (You have a LOT in your house, both bc you love your hubby to death, and he has the biggest ego in the MHA universe.)

Once the camera was set up you went back to the couch and scrolled on TikTok, replying to your followers here and there. When Bakugou finally came out of your bedroom you stopped yourself from giving in as you watched his muscles appreciatively. Holding strong, you swallowed as he walked towards you.

"Oi. I'm leaving now." Bakugou grunted, stooping down for you to kiss him. Kissing him teasingly you almost giggle as Bakugou huffed when you pulled away quicker then he wanted. "Oi. I said I'm leaving." "Okay. Have fun, future number one." You reply, intentionally not initiating an 'I love you' like usual. "I love you idiot." Bakugo muttered, a light blush on his cheeks.

Bakugou hardly ever said those three words, so you almost gave up. But you knew that this would EXPLODE so you decided to go on. "I know. Have fun." You reply, causing Bakugou to halt. "You're forgetting something." Bakugou growled, red eyes glaring daggers at you. "Hmm? Oh, be safe." You smile sweetly, internally dying inside.

"Say it. Now." Bakugou growled. "What do you want me to say? Keep Denki and Sero in line so you won't get kicked out again?" "Y know what. Forget it." Bakugou grumbled, turning to leave. "Wait Baby no~ it was just a prank!" You chase him as he walks out the door, apologizing profusely.

Shoto:

You really didn't want to do this. Like really, really didn't want to do this. But, Denki confessed to Jiro so you had to. You never broke your promises, ever. And one of this level? It would be a sin. I mean come on, you've been shipping them for at least four years, (You guys graduated U.A. like a year and a half ago) and have been trying to get them together for two.

Finally, Denki confessed and Jiro agreed on letting him take her on a date. So, you decided to put yourself, and your sweet husband in agony. A short lived agony, yet an agony all the same. (Yes, I am quite dramatic.) And so here you were, filming a prank video for Denki's prank channel.

If this became popular Denki made Izuku promise that he would confess to Ururaka, so you had to do your best, I mean come on~ two of your favorite ships FINALLY getting together? It was a dream come true! And so, here you were, on your and Shoto's bed, waiting for your beloved husband to say goodnight before he went on patrol.

Being the number 3 hero he usually took a late night shift so he could spend more time with you. (Sweet Baby <3) Giggling at a prank Mina pulled on Bakugou (Not a ship! I repeat, not a ship!) you were surprised when you felt Shoto lay on top of you.

"I gotta go Love, but I'll be back in about an hour. I love you, don't stay up all night watching Bakugo blow up again. Deal?" Shoto asked, causing you to giggle softly. "Only if you promise to not stay up fighting villains all night!" You tease, causing Shoto to sigh. "

"Love, you know that's out of my control." Shoto replied softly, giving you a sweet kiss on your neck, causing you to shiver with delight. "Same here! I mean come on, Bakugou being ignored is utterly hilarious! Also I need to show Denki some love, look at his channel! It's basically dying right now!" Chuckling softly Shoto gave you a kiss on your head.

"Okay, but once I get back you need to get off and show me some love instead. Okay?" Shoto compromised, earning a smirk from you. "Deal!" Smiling fondly Shoto gave you yet another kiss on your head. "Love you. Have a good night, I'll be back as soon as possible." "Come back soon~ but be safe!" You exclaim.

Shoto continued getting off of you and started walking downstairs, seemingly not noticing you failed to verbalize your love. You intensely listened as you waited for your beloved Shoto to come back up. You snorted as you heard Shoto's footsteps suddenly stop. You forced yourself to not giggle as Shoto walked up again, walking into your room he stood and just stared at you.

"Did you forget something?" You ask, completely smitten at the adorable look he gave you. "No, but I believe you did." Shoto replied. You smiled, "Oh? Did i? Well go kick some as-" "(Y/n). Please, I love you." "I know! Have a good patrol!" "Y/n. I love you so, so much. I mean it, I really do." Shoto frowned, feeling bad you realized that he was actually getting insecure now.

He tended to do that, no matter how perfect he was he always found a way to compare himself to other men, saying he's not good enough. Or even worse, he compares himself to Endeavor, that peace of (I don't cuss, so I couldn't tell you 😒) which broke your heart.

Depending on how broken he was the longer it took you to calm him down, and reassure him that he was utterly perfect to you and nothing at all like his shizzy old man. (Yes I just wrote shizzy. Why? Cause shizzy is the same as shiz.) Now feeling bad you walked over to him and enveloped him in your arms.

"Oh Baby, it was a stupid prank, I'm so sorry. I love you too. So, so much." You comfort. And so after his patrol you spent the rest of the night cuddling and spouting words of love. Yes, it took a while of unconditional love for him to feel whole again. (The vid blew up FAST I mean, Denki now has a whopping new 483 followers. And they keep coming.)

Kirishima:

You and your boyfriend were currently in a prank war. It all started when Kiri, that sweet, sweet baby of your's decided to ignore you. Two years have passed since then, and both of you are third years in U.A. high. Last week your boyfriend decided to start a argument and pass out. Yeah, you weren't happy. And so, you were going to get revenge. Your prank channel has almost a million followers, about half on your side, while the other on Kiri's. Smirking you set up the camera in your boyfriend's dorm. Kiri was in the bathroom getting ready for the gym, and Bakugou was going to be over shortly to drive him. (Ummm pray for Kiri's life. Driving with Bakugo??!💀)

You looked up as you heard Kiri open the door, stepping into your view in the process. I mean, you two were still kids, so you haven't you know, *cough cough*. But~ that doesn't mean that you can't like what you see... ANYWAYS! He had a red tank top on, which show cased his muscles beautifully.

He had black shorts and a red head band which pulled back his hair from his face. Smiling widely you looked him in the eyes, causing him to blush. "So... I look good?" Kiri asked, face as red as his beautiful hair. "Good? Eiji.... you look stunning! I mean drop dead gorgeous. I would literally date you in a heartbeat- scratch that I would marry you in a heart beat! SO manly!" You ramble, causing your gorgeous boyfriend's neck and ears to start turning red as well.

Before Kiri could could respond the door was kicked open. "ENOUGH WITH THIS CRINGEY SHIZ AND GET YOUR *Dadadada* OUT HERE NOW!" Bakugo yelled, causing both you and Kiri to sigh. "Well, I love you Baby, I'll be back in a few hours." Kiri promised. Stooping down to kiss you he slightly frowned when you responded with, "Mkay, have fun." "I love you." He repeated after giving you a loving kiss on your lips.

"Mhm, have fun." Scoffing Bakugo stormed off and yelled, "I'LL BE IN THE CAR! DON'T TAKE TO LONG, THAT MEANS NO FU-" "YES! THANK YOU, WE KNOW!" Kiri yelled, face a dark red. Giggling you kissed his hand, "Bye Baby, have fun being screamed at." "Wait... aren't you forgetting something?" "Make sure to keep Bakubeast in check?"

Kirishima would normally chuckle, but instead of him blessing you with the sound of his laugh he just frowned deeper. "Baby... Pebble... Do you love me?" "Why do you ask? But Baby, you gotta go, you're gonna be late." "Please say you love me!" "Baby~ you're gonna be late~!" Kiri pouted and then kissed you on your head. "Bye, love you." He said in a defeated tone, breaking your heart.

Normally, you would go over to him and smother him with love and promise him that it's just a prank. But, you had to stay strong, the prank he pulled was so~ mean! After a few hours Kiri came back to your dorm, sweaty and tired. It looked like he almost forgot about your neglect, but knowing Kiri he wouldn't forget it until you fix it.

After Kiri greeted you with an 'I love you' and a kiss on the temple he went to go shower. (Please just pretend that third years have showers in their dorms or something!) After his shower Kiri let you dry his hair, something that you LOVED doing when it was fluffy and just washed. Time skip: about an hour or two later.

"Hey... (y/n)." Kirishima called, hesitation heavy in his voice. "Yes Baby?" You ask. "A-are you mad at me? I'm really sorry.. I don't know what I did wrong, but I'll fix it! Promise!" Giggling at his eagerness you decided to end his misery.

"Oh my poor Baby! I'm sorry! I love you, I love you, I love you~!!!" You exclaim, jumping off the bed to wrap your worried boyfriend in a hug. "Wait.... was this a prank?! (Y/n)! SO~ mean!" Kiri laughed, wrapping his arms around you he peppered your neck, face and head with kisses.

Giggling you cuddle for the rest of the night, the video blew up and your followers are now asking for more Bakugou content. Though, I would stop being smug right about now, and start preparing for Kiri's next prank.

Denki:

Denki told you that he wouldn't prank you, but come on. His followers have seen you in a few of his prank videos, and boy oh boy did they love you. They requested time and time again for him to prank you, so he did. And you did NOT like that. And because he broke his word, you'll break your's. And so here you were, intro already filmed and camera set up.

"Nugget~ Baby Nuggy~" Denki called, winking at the camera you looked up as Denki walked into the room. "Yes Bubs?" "I need to go~" Denki whined, walking over to you he wrapped his arms around you and started kissing your face repeatedly causing you to giggle. "Mkay, don't overuse your quirk. Be safe!" You encourage.

Kissing Denki sweetly you lent back as he started to deepen the kiss. "You got to go Bubs. See you in the morning!" Groaning Denki leaned in to give you a quick peck on the lips. "I love you. Have a good night." "Have a good night!" You chirp, internally giggling as he stopped.

"I love you." Denki repeated, leaning down to look you in the eye as he kissed your nose. "Denki~ don't be late! Bakugou WILL kill you!" You exclaim, giving him a light push as he tried to kiss you further. "Baby~ I love you~" Denki whined, clinging to your neck like a child. "I know, I know! Just go to work!" You order, stifling your giggles as your boyfriend acted like a literal child.

"(Y/n)... please say you love me." Denki sniffled, a pout staining his cheerful face. Yes, you knew that you should've lasted longer, but come on! That pout! "Baby! It was just a prank! I love you~" You pout, wrapping your arms around Denki in a hug. "(Y/n)! Really?!" Denki whined, causing you to giggle. You laugh as you see Denki's playful pout, before pulling him in for more kisses. (First time writing Denki, hope I did an okay job).

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