#Requests :D

[whereismyhat5678]

hugs? ... HUGS. *proceeds to pick peppino up (since she's, like- 2 ft taller than him) and hug him* (here's a bonus drawing bc your art is so cute and how ya draw peppino makes mah heart go:💞💕 AAAAAAAAAA-💕💞)

(There were more asks but I couldn’t fit you all in I’m sorry!! 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️)

*Cracks knuckles*

Okay- Let’s get ready for this one- ✍️

I can’t fit all the asks in THERE ARE SO MANY OF YOU-

I mean respect wanting to hug the Italien man BUT OMG- 😂

(Was it at least funny?- I hope I didn’t disappoint you guys- I HAVE SOME SINCE NOVEMBER CRHIST!- I’M SO SORRY- 🙏🙏🙏)

And to those who also left compliments in the asks I have to say thank you so much for it!!

(I currently can’t fit any pictures in here so A CRAZY ANOUNT OF HEARTS WILL DO-)

💗💕💖

Everyone on you guys are so sweet!! I can’t believe you guys look at my silly goofy art I just- AAAHHHGH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU‼️‼️‼️💕💗💖💞✨💕💗💞✨💕💕💖💞✨💕💗💖✨💕💗💞

[bunniibones]

btw guys kjasdhjdhajk if you have any don't/nova or deep/galaxy ideas or requests feel free to send them to my ask and I'll pick some to try to doodle in my free time kjahskhajk

[mccall-muffin]

Hello my love! I saw your tags about more Lipton content, and since you're looking for prompts, I was wondering if I could request something with him? Because you are absolutely right, he needs more fics 😌 Fluff, angst, anything - it's up to you! 😉 Thank you bestie! 💕🕊️

Well, well, well - I guess, that one's on me 😋😋 Thank you so much for the request, love 🥰

This is for you my bestie @softguarnere! I really hope you like it and as for the topics...: why not a little bit of everything!

What lasts long finally becomes good // Carwood Lipton x Reader

Warnings: Language, War, Fluff

January 16, 1945 - Rachamps, Belgium

You sit in the church and stare at nothing, completely downtrodden. The last month was pure horror, and now you're glad to have a roof over your head for the first time in a long time. You already thought that your limbs couldn't get warm anymore, but now this seems to be the case. With half an ear, you listen to the choir organized by the nuns, but the sound of the explosions is still ringing in your head.

You rest your elbows on your legs and rub your face.

"Here," someone in front of you then says, and you look up. It's George, holding out a cup to you. "Hot coffee... Should revive your spirits," he adds, and you accept the cup gratefully. George drops down on the bench beside you and sighs deeply. You carefully bring the cup to your mouth and sip. The warm liquid flows through you, warming you from the inside. "That was just what I needed," you say softly, smiling tiredly at George from the side. "I'm glad I could help."

The two of you sit silently next to each other, continuing to stare at each other and sip your coffee. Suddenly, George nudges you and points his head forward. You spot Lip and Speirs talking to each other when you look up. "What do you think it's about?" asks George, and you shrug before averting your eyes again.

"Everything okay between you and Lip?" Now you look at George again. "I don't know," you sigh after a while. "I haven't talked to Lip since... Not really talked to him since the incident with Hoobs." George frowns. "Why is that?" You shake your head, sighing. "I don't know. I had my duties, and he had his, I guess." "Y/N..." "Just leave it alone, please, George," you interrupt him immediately.

Lip and you got along very well from the beginning. Since the first day, you joined them in Toccoa. In the start, Lip was just your friend, but as time passed, you quickly realized that you felt more for him than friendship. The men noticed this too, and of course, they didn't let it stop them from teasing you about it.

You were sure Lip felt the same way about you as you did about him, even though he never told you or moved in that direction. He's too reserved and correct for that, precisely the qualities you value so much in him.

Even when you went to war and faced the threat of one of you dying almost every day, that didn't change. Except for occasional hugs, light hand-holding, or intimate conversations in the foxholes, nothing more ever happened. You share Lip's opinion here that this has no place in war. And yet your feelings have not vanished into thin air; no, they have only intensified since then.

You dare another glance at Lip, who is reading something but seems to sense your gaze because, at that moment, he raises his head and looks at you.

For a few seconds that feel like hours, your eye contact lingers. Then you break off, zip up your jacket, and leave the church. "Hey, where are you going?" calls George after you, but you ignore him.

Outside, you fight back the tears. Your breathing quickens, and with trembling fingers, you light a smoke. Immediately, the cold creeps back into your body. With your free hand, you rub your arm, trying to warm it somehow. As you blow out the smoke, you shiver.

"You shouldn't be out here. It's warm inside; you can warm up there. We've spent enough time in the cold for now.,"

You don't need to turn around to know who is followed outside. Keeping your eyes fixed on the house across the street, you take another drag of your smoke. "Ah, now you're talking to me?" you ask, your lip quivering. Lip steps closer to you. He doesn't say anything at first before standing right next to you. "Y/N... I... I didn't know what to do..." Now you look at him but immediately turn away from him again.

Your eyes start to burn again. Hoobs was your best friend. You loved spending time with him. He was funny and always upbeat, and through him, you could forget the horrors of war for a while. And then came that fucking Luger. The fucking Luger he was talking about since fucking Normandy. And on which he finally got his hands on. You were with him in his final seconds, at least. You held his hand and tried to comfort him. You told him that everything was going to be okay. When he was gone, you were angry. Angry with him that he broke his promise that you two would go home together after this fucking war is over. Angry at the Krauts, for having these stupid guns everyone wants to get. Angry at god that he took your best friend.

You sat in your foxhole for hours, waiting for Lip to come to you and hold you, but he never did. He never told you that he will be there for you, no matter what happens. He never held you, rubbed your back, and told you that the place Hoobs is now is much safer and nicer than the cold hell you were in. He just never came to you.

Lip hesitantly raises a hand and wants to put it on your shoulder, but you immediately take a step away from him. "I needed you, you know," you say quietly, your eyes fixed on the floor. "I know," he whispers back. "And I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. I just didn't know what I could say or do to help you." "You didn't have to say or do anything; you just had to be there."

You look up at Lip again. "I felt so alone when - when Hoobs was gone. And then Bill and Joe and Muck and Penkala, too... I didn't know what to do anymore. I didn't know how to survive the whole thing. I know you had to do a lot, Lip, with Dike and all, but..." You break off. "But you still needed me." You nod. "I still need you."

Now you look at him again. Tears glisten in your eyes. Lip blinks a few times before closing the gap between you and hugging you. You bury your head against his chest and wrap your arms around him. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. It won't happen again, I promise. Do you forgive me?" You nod. "I would forgive you anything, Carwood."

As you break away from each other again, you quickly wipe away the tear that strayed onto your cheek. Lip smiles softly at you and gently holds your hand as his thumb draws circles on the back of your hand.

Then, however, he begins to cough. And it doesn't sound pleasant at all. You raise your eyebrows. "Come on. Let's get you back inside before you catch pneumonia."

February 5, 1945 - Haguenau, France

As you predicted to Lip, he has indeed caught pneumonia that won't go away.

Exhausted, you sit on one of the beds of the second platoon and wait. Waiting for new orders. Anything. Suddenly, Malarkey comes into the room. "Y/N, Captain Speirs is looking for you," he says, looking at you. Malarkey is even worse off than you are, you realize. You nod to him and stand up.

When you arrive at the CP, you immediately spot Lip snuggled up on a sofa, still looking bad. You smile tiredly at him, then walk up to Speirs. "Captain Speirs?" you ask when you spot him. "Yes, Y/N. I was thinking of pulling you back from the front lines for a moment and stationing you here in the CP," he says, and you look at him in surprise. "You can help Luz and..." He pauses for a moment. "Take care of Lipton. I want him to finally get better."

Speirs turns away from you again and walks over to Winters and Nixon. You look after him for a moment before turning to Lip. You walk hesitantly toward him. "How are you doing?" you ask, and he looks up. He straightens up a bit but then immediately coughs again. "Still the same," he then says. "Can I get you anything?" Lip takes a deep breath and then looks at you again. "A... A cup of coffee would be nice," he says, and you nod before getting him one.

You hold it out to him and then prop yourself on the backrest as you watch him take a sip. "What are you doing here, anyway?" he asks after a while. "Speirs told me to take care of you." Just as Lip is about to say something, someone you didn't expect enters the CP. It's Webster.

George also enters the CP at that moment. "Hey, Y/N, I hear you get to play nurse?" he says, and you look at him, rolling your eyes. Then he, too, spots Webster. "Well, look who's here," he says less euphorically. " Yeah. Sergeant Lipton?" he then turns to Lip. You watch Web closely. "Feeling all right?" he asks, and you stand up. "He's got pneumonia," you say directly, walking up to Web. "I'm sorry to hear that." "What are you sorry about?" you now gift Web and push past him to grab the pot of coffee again to top Lip off. "He's alive; he's got a couch, a blanket, snug as a bug." "Come on, Y/N. Give him some slack," Lip quietly says, and you look at him.

Web looks at you in irritation. You've never been this averse to him before. He clears his throat. "Yeah. Sgt. Malarkey said to check with the CO if I should be in 2nd Platoon." Lip holds your gaze for a moment before turning to Web. "Have a seat, Webster. We'll get you situated."

Web sits down as Lip instructed. "How long have you been sick?" he asks. "Long enough," you interject. "And now let him. Let him get some rest. Speirs will be here in a minute." You watch Lip close his eyes, slightly annoyed. "Y/N? Can you do me a favor?" "Sure." "Find Doc and ask him if he has any penicillin left." You know exactly what Lip's trying to do with this. He doesn't want you to keep giving Web a hard time, which is why he's sending you away. Briefly, you look at him a little annoyed before leaving the CP and looking for Doc.

When you return to Lip a little later with penicillin in your pocket, you quickly realize something is wrong. You immediately kneel down to him. "What's wrong?" you ask, taking his hand in yours. He looks up, and his forehead is adorned with his typical, thoughtful wrinkle that always becomes visible when he's convulsively thinking.

Lip looks around briefly to make sure no one else is listening. "They're planning a patrol to the other side of the river, and they want Malarkey to lead it." "What?!" you ask, surprised. "Malarkey? That... They can't do that! He needs a break." Lip nods at you in agreement.

Then he lifts his hand and puts it on your cheek. "I'm glad you don't have to go, Y/N," he almost whispers, and you don't know if his action comes because of the fever or not. He tenderly strokes your cheek with his thumb and, very gently, your lip. You look at him in surprise. You notice him leaning forward a little, but then you hear footsteps approaching. You look up quickly and pull away from Lip.

Speirs enters the room and eyes you both briefly. "First sergeant? Can you make it to brief the men?" he then asks, and Lip nods. "Yes, I can," he says and stands up with a struggle. "Good, then both of you get a shower right away. You've got the tents set up," Speirs continues, looking at you and Lip. You nod and then follow Lip outside.

February 22, 1945 - Haguenau, France

Lip is finally feeling better. His fever is gone, and the cough is almost gone. You are helping George carry away some boxes when you see Lip join the other officers. He looks at you briefly and gives you a small smile.

"I guess this is it," George says next to you, also looking over at the group. "What do you mean?" you ask, irritated. "Didn't you catch it? Don't tell me you didn't hear it." You continue to look at George in confusion.

"Lips battelfied commission."

Again, you look to the officers. Winters, Nixon, Speirs, and Welsh, who is also back, shake Lip's hand. "Damn, I totally forgot," you mutter to yourself.

"Gonna be even harder for you now, huh?" "What the fuck are you talking about, George?" George has his typical grin on his face. "Well... Two enlisted soldiers between themselves are fine to do what they want... Most of the time, at least. But an officer and an enlisted - I don't know." You punch George on the shoulder. "Shut up, Luz! That's not how it is between Lip and me." "Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, Y/N."

"Just shut up, George. I'll take these quickly to OP2," you then say, grabbing two boxes before leaving the house.

"Hey," Lip calls after you, following you out of the house. "Hey," you say as well, looking at him and then continuing through one of the alleys. Lip is still following you. "Wait, give me those," he says, reaching for the boxes. When he grazes your hand, however, you are startled and drop it.

You stand there, stunned, and look at Lip. He looks at you, too. And then you don't care. You step forward, take Lip's face, and finally kiss him. Lip, as expected, is completely overwhelmed and taken aback by your action, so you immediately pull away from him. You lower your eyes and take a step back.

"I'm - I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have done that," you mumble, barely daring to look him in the eye. "Y/N," he says quietly, and you look up again. Lip's expression is gentle, and he smiles slightly before taking a step forward. Now it's he who takes your face in his hands. He studies your face before leaning down and kissing you tenderly.

You put your arms around him and pull him a little closer to you. You feel Lip smile against your lips.

Suddenly you feel his tongue brush your lower lip, and you automatically open your mouth. Lip's hands are on your hips now, and you have yours around his neck. Enjoying each other, you both stand in the alley and kiss passionately.

Then, as Lip pulls away from you, he smiles at you. "That was..." you whisper, but he immediately silences you with another quick kiss. "Late," he then says, which makes you laugh. You lean back against the wall of the house and look at him. Lip bites his lips but can't hide a smile.

"Hey, Y/N!" then calls George, who is just turning the corner. "The boxes aren't going to carry themselves to OP2." Instantly, you're back to reality. "Oh yeah," you say quickly and want to bend down for the boxes, but Lip is faster. "I'll take these," he says, already picking up the boxes. "You know you don't have to do that, right?" you ask, amused, and he nods at you with a smile.

Once you've dropped off the errands at OP2, you make your way back to the CP.

Suddenly, however, Lip grabs you, presses you against the wall, and his lips back on yours. Surprised and out of breath, you look at him. "Who are you? And what have you done with the reticent Carwood Lipton?" you ask, amused, but Lip looks at you. "I love you."

The smile on your face disappears, giving way to exuberance. "What?" Lip, who must have just realized what he said too, becomes slightly unsure. "I... I love you, Y/N." "Holy shit!" Lip raises his eyebrows, then frowns. Spotting his look, you immediately put a hand on his arm. "No, no! I'm... I'm sorry. I just didn't expect that" you say quickly, and Lip hangs his head before taking a step back. "And I didn't mean it," you say with your eyes closed and shaking your head, annoyed at your own stupidity.

You grab Lip by his jacket and pull him to you. "I love you too," you say before kissing him again.

[nnobodoodles]

Oh wow, I'm absolutely FLOORED by the response on my Strawhat Screenshot Redraws! Thank you so much, been reading all your lovely tags and smiling SO much!! 💖

Here's Part 2 with requests from Insta plus some. Let me know if there's someone else you'd like to see!

[gotchibam]

Skitty ko-fi doodle for @beskarmermaid!

I’m accepting pokemon ko-fi doodle requests here! ✨

[suretkerim]

i had this thought for a while about how convenient it is that of all the fenton inventions it is the shields that do not work on danny :)

[0039pf]

can i get a kiss?

and can you make it last forever?

i said i’m ‘bout to go to war

and i don’t know if i’ma see you again

[getsilly]

What u thinking about

[moonydustx]

Thought for the day - I believe there are two types of boys in One Piece in their relationships with girls, let me explain.

There are those where, outsiders, would never say that the two of you are in a relationship. You walk steps apart, exchanging only the essentials of words between you. However, anyone who looked closely could see that many times, some favors were done just for you, that his eyes always seemed to follow you at every step, protecting you even from afar. It was the type of situation in which the person who dared to mess with you would barely know where the blow would come from. However, when the two of you are alone, prepare for a clingy pair. He loves to make up for all the moments away when it's just the two of you - he holds you in bed for a few more minutes, stealing several kisses before facing the reality of the day, he always offers to accompany you on your explorations, just so he can drag you to hidden places in the city and enjoy the time alone, he will love you (aka fuck) as if that were the last night he would have you in their bed, after all, the next day, you both would just be crewmates again.

Law, Zoro, Marco, Killer, Katakuri, Mihawk, Smoker, Rob Lucci, Sabo (u can't tell me this loverboy wouldn't be the clingest guy in the alone time)

These people practically have your name tied to their existence. He don't exist without remembering your name immediately, accompanied by a smile, after all, anyone who saw - even if they didn't know you two - would know that you were made for each other - even if you are copies of each other's personality or are completely the opposite - you spark something in him that is sharp. They are super protective, yes, but they don't need to worry about following you far away, they know that no one would have enough balls to mess with his girl. Whenever they got into trouble, they immediately asked you for help after all you were one of the people he trusted most. With everyone already knowing about the two of you, he didn't need to make an effort to hide something, whether when he walked hand in hand with you, when he took the lead and asked who dared to interfere with their partner, or when they took advantage of any time free to love you (again, aka fuck) in a messy way, leaving marks and not sparing the noise. After all, everyone already knew that you belonged together.

Luffy, Crocodile, Ace, Kid, Sanji, Katakuri (he can be both versions, I'm sorry whoever disagrees), Franky, Shanks, Rayleigh, Buggy, Sabo (again, this sweetie fits for any side here)

-

a/n: I don't think anyone was missing, but if you have any suggestions, feel free to leave them here

[tsunosagun]

it is wednesday my dudes

[raycatzdraws]

LU WIND BUT HE'S A ITTY BITTY HUMMINGBIRD

Slingshot Proficiency!

+bonus doodle drafts

[fujoxi]

draw a maid with fish-shaped pasties

o7

[sun-snatcher]

If you're writing for dp3 then Hiraeth from your prompt list would work SO well since they're all stuck in the void! 🤲🏽😭 We need Gambit fics its a DROUGHT HELP

♧ ⎯ LUCK O’ THE DRAW !

summ. You find the Devil himself at the end of the world. Surprisingly, it isn’t the first time you have. It is, however, the first time it hurts. pairing. Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader (established relationship. Kinda. Multiverse be funky like 'dat.) w.count. 1.8k a/n. Because Channing deserved that Gambit all those years ago, and I've come to (attempt to) deliver what the the people have asked. Masterlist here.

MOST PEOPLE MEET THE DEVIL at a crossroads, but you meet yours in— quite literally— the back end of fuckin’ nowhere.

It hurt more than it should.

Your heart practically stutters. 

“Remy.”  

Then he turns, and you wait for the flash of recognition in his eyes.

Nothing comes.

And then. And then.

Realisation— logic. The cold, hard truth: This isn’t your Remy LeBeau. Your Remy had died long before, in a Universe that was pruned and erased into nothingness by the TVA. Your Universe. The joke? That the Gambit before you is merely a variant amongst a million. The punchline? He looks exactly the same as the day you’d lost your own. 

“Well, this is awkward. You know off-shoot Hawkeye here?” Wade says, astonished, before his eyes widened. “Ah. Tragic exposition time for the readers, I see.”

Your mind is still reeling. It feels like someone’s just jammed a chisel straight into your gut. “I— Knew a version. Variant, I guess,” you manage to correct yourself, distracted by the skirting trenchcoat and the all too familiar sound of shuffling cards. 

Christ, it’s like he’d stepped right out of your memories.

Remy’s eyebrows shoot up as he studies you. Something in your chest pulls taut, threatening to snap as he speaks. “Apologies, mon ami. But as far as I remember, I ain’t never seen you before.”

“Ouch,” Wade winces, looking between you both. “What a classic trope! This is like, me talking to my past Mom in The Adam Project. Funnily enough, my Mom was you!” He snorts, pointing to Elektra. 

You ignore Wade and offer Remy a wan smile. “I figured. It’s okay.”

…It is obviously, in fact, not okay. 

You avoid him like a plague shortly after the entire commotion; it’s almost comical. Wade had managed to come up with a plan with the rest of the group, albeit a ramshackle, flimsy one, but you’ve hardly been able to pay attention through the bloodrush of shock rocketing in your head, anyway. 

Being around this Remy is stunningly stifling. 

The lilt of his accent, the sharpness in his smile; the flourishing of cards and the faint hum-drum of kinetic charge against his fingertips. 

You’ve seen it all before, once upon a time. You never thought any of it could ever bring you to this bad of a heel. 

It hadn’t taken long before you’d tried drowning yourself at the end of a bottle of brandy Logan had handed you that night. (The whiskey tames his mordance and makes him uncharacteristically civil. He’d said something along the lines of: Y’need this more than I do, bub; look like you’ve just seen a fuckin’ ghost. Shit, I guess you did, huh? )

“Mais la,” comes a huff. “Ain’t that mine?”

A frisson runs through your heart. 

“Sorry,” you say, barely glancing up from the barrel fire tucked outside the team’s hideout. You’re not quite sure you can handle meeting his gaze. “I know I should’ve asked.”

A playful hum. Remy settles on the log adjacent to yours. “S’alright. No harm done, chèr.”

It takes everything in you not to flinch at the endearment. If he’d noticed, well— he’s smart enough not to mention it. He’s curious and it stands to reason; afterall, he’s never quite seen someone look at him as weathered as the way you do. It’s as if the effort itself to do so would be unbearable.

“Y’kno’, I been told I’m easy on the eyes. Not for you, tho’, eh?” Remy shoots you an amicable smile. It’s charming, if a little compelling. “Guessin’ I made bad on you where y’from? You done been boudéin’ since y’first got here.” 

You let out a laugh. It’s the most brittle sound he’s ever heard come from someone. 

“No, no,” you shake your head. “It’s… You just make me a lil’ homesick, is all.”

Remy bristles with his deck of cards. A Charlier cut; a One-handed shuffle. It’s a mindless tic; your variant used to do the exact same with the exact same ease.

(Such a miracle, you remember thinking once, that there could be symmetries in the Multiverse. Now you learn, perhaps, it’s far more a curse. Either way, you can hear Remy’s doting voice in a distant memory, dimpling coyly at you: “S’just the luck o’ your draw, chèr.” )

You tamp down the memory before it could sink its jowls any deeper in you. 

“You’re curious,” you say.

He makes a noise of assent. Revolution cut; One-handed shuffle. Repeat.

“I ain’t gon’ axe if y’ain’t wanna answer.” 

It’s kind of him. 

You forgot he was like this.

Witty, yet gentlemanly. The way Remy always has been.

Underneath the blanket of the night, the crackle of the flames limn the planes of his face in flickering, hazy saffron. The look in his eyes is sincere as they meet your red-rimmed gaze. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him, and in this light no less: tall, cutting, strong.

Lively.

The last you’d seen Remy, he’d been drawn out and battered by the war. Not that he’d ever admit it; he always insisted on keeping up his sunny disposition despite the constant losing battles happening. (Sometimes you think you resent him for doing that; it’d felt like he’d taken the light of the world with him when—)

You thank your lucky stars the variant Remy doesn’t make a comment on how you must be staring so openly. It’s a feeble attempt to committing every detail to memory, you suppose, in case you don’t get the chance again.

“In my Universe, a war was waging against mutants.” Your nails tinker against the empty bottleneck of the flat whiskey you’d nursed, thinking of how to cut a bloodshed of a story short; to get your point across before you falter and lose your footing.

“There was a mission sanctioned, and during it— a decision had to be made at that moment. So… you chose. Easily.” Your brows pinch tight against your will. The molten burn returns to the back of your eyes. “You saved so many lives the day you died.” 

Something catches in your throat when you realise your mistake, find yourself amending instantly, “He. He died.”

(It had been swift. A small mercy, all things considered. There wasn’t even a need to check for a pulse when you finally managed to reach for him.)

You’re fidgeting, too, with something in your other hand. Remy catches sight of it only now: a card, sitting pinched between your ringed fingers. Nine of Hearts. Its edges are torn and creased across the face, singed an ashen black. 

A proverbial piece of Remy’s heart, carried to the end with you.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a cold rush over his body at the sight. 

“…I’m sorry, chèr,” he offers quietly, inadequate as it is. He hadn’t expected that. 

He can’t imagine how haunting it must be to look at someone you’d shared a lifetime with and be met with a complete stranger instead. 

A living, breathing, ghost.

That unbiddable feeling of longing had always seemed to accompany the sight of him; but now it’s different. Now, there’s a blistering, brutal pain to come with; All-encompassing grief, thick as molasses in your lungs, overturning itself like a phantom from wherever you thought you’d buried it a long time ago. 

The only way to smother it would be to reach out, to hold him like you had once before, and isn’t that an ironic inconvenience? 

“No, no. I’m sorry,” you tell him, sigh coming out as an awkward laugh. A breeze passes and you inhale deep to ground yourself. Press your eyes shut momentarily to will away useless tears. “It must be so weird to hear all of this from me about— well, you, technically.”

“Mais, can’t ‘ave all been a bad memory, tho’, right?”

Right. No. It hadn’t been. There’s something else too. An undercurrent. Beyond the grief, the deep ache in your marrows— you think it’s nostalgia. Hiraeth. More bittersweet than it is painful.

It’s… It’s watching mutant schoolkids teaching him UNO for the first time. It’s the bickering over the beignets for breakfast, or your feet on his lap at the couch in the lounge after dinners with the rest of the X-Men. Lazy banter. Conversations that go everywhere and nowhere.

“Yeah,” you agree, feeling something bloom in your chest you thought long lost. “You taught me everything about your home, too. Down South. Told me about the bayou, the cypress trees. Your Cajun, your ways. We used to play Bourré.”

Talk of home has him ducking into a laugh. Remy had been in the Void far longer than the rest (he figures, at least)— he’s very nearly lost most of his fragmented memories to time by now. “Did I? Oughta’ play a game or two wit’ you.”

You buckle at that. “Ah. You were always the better player.”

Then:

He makes the leap before he runs out of steam. “Was we…?”

His finger darts between the space you two share.

“Oh, no,” you override, sheepishly. “No, we, we were good friends and stayed good friends. I was—” Your breath scurries; a reconsideration. “I was glad with that. You had a Southern belle named Anna Marie. A powerful mutant called Rogue. You two were good for each other.”

You must have given yourself away somewhere, though, the way Remy is reading you with a pinned gaze. It’s the same, levelled look you’ve seen before— the kind he gets in a game of cards. 

Something discerning eclipses in his eyes.

He’d gotten the measure of you in an instant. 

“Gambit musta’ been blind blind not t’see you.”

Ah.

You smile. It’s windswept. Resigned. “Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it? My Gambit’s gone. No matter how much I wish I can see him again.”

Remy’s eyes dart to your hands.

“Y’kno’, chèr,” he begins, something spirited in his tone. “In the world of cards, each a’ these and they suits hold a meanin’.”

He flourishes his deck, hypnotisingly smooth with every elegant cut, fan and spring. Every shuffle cascades as smooth as liquid in the sleight of his hands.

“Some of my folks back in New Orleans I remember, they learned me to read ‘em. Now, outta the whole deck? What you got there; the Nine of Hearts is also called the Wish card.”

The small laugh that punches out of you is bell-like. “Really?” 

It’s warm. Bright. Musical to his ears. It washes over him, and he can’t help but hang on to the peal. He wanted to hear it again. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Remy clicks his tongue as he shoots you a sunny look. “Would never lie t’you, chèr.”

The cracks in your soul don’t disappear, but they surely lighten as you look gently at him. “Huh. Well, I guess I got my wish, didn’t I?” 

He chuckles. 

“Mais, I ain’t your Gambit but—” 

He leans. Reaches out behind your ear with an empty palm, playfully revealing a gilded card from seemingly thin air with a sharp flick of his wrist:

Another Nine of Hearts. His. He hands it over to you, by way of meaning—  I’m here, now.

New beginnings.

You take the card with a smile.

[innerfare]

Blowjobs 

Summary: What are they like when you go down on them?

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // blowjobs

——— 

Luffy: Goes a little crazy when you wrap your lips around him, moaning and groaning, his voice extra raspy, can’t stand it when you tease him. And he counts anything to do with his balls as teasing because they're so sensitive. "That's not fair!" He’ll grab your hair to control the pace, pulling your mouth up and down his throbbing cock. Doesn’t mean to be such a control freak, just can’t help himself. He’s so fucking greedy, it’s unreal. Never cums from a blowjob anywhere but in your mouth, and he really wants you to swallow. His favorite thing in the world is when his cum spills out of your mouth and you need a little help cleaning it up. He’ll swipe his thumb across your chin and chuckle when you suck the cum from his finger. This will probably lead to a second blowjob (multiples are not unusual with this man), probably with the two of you 69ing. 

Zoro: Lays back with his hands behind his head and his legs sprawled out, ready to watch you go down on him. So smug, smirks and goads you into taking more of him into your mouth until you’re choking on his length, then pokes fun at you for taking on more than you can handle. "What's wrong? Is daddy's cock too much for your princess mouth? You said you could handle it." You taking more of him into your mouth than you can handle and choking a little is definitely his favorite part. When he’s not teasing you, he’s watching you like a hawk, pushing his hips up a little to get himself deeper down your throat. Is actually really good at holding back his orgasm, which is good because he wants you to go down on him for a while but he also wants to cum inside you, so once your jaw is locked and cramping, he’ll pin you beneath him and fuck his cum into you. 

Sanji: Also ends up fucking you after a blowjob, but not because he can last for a very long time. Rather, it’s because he can get hard again so fast, almost as soon as his orgasm is finished. So, after you’ve wrapped your lips and hands around his length and drained his first load out of him, he’s pushing you onto your back and rutting his hips against yours. His favorite part is when you suck on his balls, but you have to be careful doing this because he’ll cum almost instantly from it; he’s cum in your hair countless times, most of them because you were sucking on his balls. If you’re going to do this, it’s better to do it toward the beginning. Oh, and when you’re finished, he’s eager to kiss you on the mouth, deep but short kisses. He’ll thank you so many times, too. "You did such a good job, babygirl. I love you so much."

Ace: He enjoys when you politely ask him if you can suck his cock. He’s surprisingly restrained as you lick up and down his length, looking up at him with your doe eyes. He’ll bite his bottom lip and rub a hand up and down his muscular chest and abdomen, the other resting on your head as it bobs up and down. He might buck his hips a little bit, but he won’t fuck your face; doesn’t think it’s hot when you choke, actually hates it. He’ll stroke your hair and groan a bit, his voice extra deep, and swear when he cums. “That’s my girl. You're mine, all fucking mine. Nobody else gets to feel your lips around their cock.” And his favorite part, perhaps one of his favorite things in the entire world, is cumming on your face. He doesn’t mean anything disrespectful by it, doesn’t even view it as dominating you in any way. It’s actually a soft gesture when he does. He just thinks you look so pretty with his cum on your face, and it makes him feel so loved that you enjoy his cum so much. 

Sabo: He can be a sadistic prick and mischievous little demon when the two of you are behind closed doors, but all that melts away when you have his pretty cock in your mouth. As soon as your head is between his legs, he turns into a whining mess (baby boy Sabo, uwu), subduing him such that you have a hard time believing this was the same man who just had you bent over his knee. His favorite part are those sweet kisses you place on his balls before you work your way up the length and lick the tip like a lollipop. Likes to watch you but usually doesn’t because it makes him cum so quickly and he wants to enjoy the blowjob a little longer. "Please don't make me cum yet. Feels so fucking good." He doesn’t really have a favorite place to cum. Or rather, he goes through phases. He likes switching it up a lot and enjoys when you ask him where he wants to cum (you deferring to him at the end makes him feel a little better about turning into putty in your hands). 

Law: Please let him cum in your mouth. Please, please, please. He might even say please, which is a pretty big deal for a man like Trafalgar Law. "You know I like it, why do you keep making me say it?" So annoyed at you, but all that goes away when he cums and you open your mouth to show him his cum before swallowing. Was actually hesitant to let you suck him off at first because he felt like he was giving up control. Allowing you to pleasure him was difficult, struck by the fear of letting himself get lost in your touch and doing something embarrassing like whining, but he didn’t hold out for very long, and his resolve to only allow you to do it only on occasion collapsed entirely after the first time you swallowed his cum. He tries to stay quiet while you suck his cock, but he’ll grunt if you hum or moan with him in your mouth; he’s definitely whimpered before, though he’ll never admit it. He usually screws his eyes shut and tries to keep himself from coming undone entirely. His favorite part is when you lick your lips afterward, like it was a treat for you, too. 

Kid: Basically can’t function without a blowjob. That being said, he understands that a man of his size can be difficult to suck off, so he’s very patient. The bully you often have sex with rarely, if ever, makes an appearance when you’re going down on him. He’ll stroke your hair and offer you sweet words of encouragement, biting back a devilish grin when you choke on his length. “I know it’s big, but you can handle it. Nice and slow, just like that. Make sure to breathe.” He’ll even help you out by stroking his cock or playing with his balls. His eyes are glued to you the entire time for fear he’ll miss his favorite part: when you tear up a little bit. He’s happy to cum anywhere, but your chest is by far his favorite place. You learn quickly to take your shirt off when you go down on him because he won’t aim away, even if you’re wearing a new top or have somewhere to be afterward. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[gotchibam]

Shiny Sylveon ko-fi doodle for Valentino!

[hellishgayliath]

Donnie isn't allowed to watch Mecha anime because he'd say "I can do it better"

The problem here is that he actually can do it better.

Well, it's a problem for everyone but Donnie, that is.

How's it feel to be the funniest person rn anon