#What I want from them is more than most of them are willing to give

[boguspearl]

So what are my thoughts for Arcane season 2? Well from what I've seen in the trailer, I think almost every character in the series is going to go through a massive shift, starting with caitlyn in the first season caitlyn was calculating smart not rash (okay not rash enough to wage full on war, but rash enough to let a criminal out of prison) she was new to the scene but she knew that she didn't want war with the undercity, but now in a fit of blind revenge she's going to war anyway

And by the looks of it Vi's right along side her she's given up on Jinx its even the first lines of the trailer, she starts out fighting along side the enforcers, along side caitlyn, but we see her off on her own broken, this most likely because she's finally seen just how far caitlyns taking things.

However the biggest change of this season is going to be Jinx, in the first season Jinx was crazy, but things are about to take a turn i mean sure on the surface we see her bombing the city leading a revolution piloting an airship while looking deranged but looking deeper does she really look completely insane.

Personally i think she looks kinda sad, i mean sure they show her looking completely done with it all ready to blow the world that's wronged her apart, but there's something deeper I think we're going to start the season with Jinx truly regretting what she's done, she's going to panic as the floor gives away beneath her and that will be her tipping point the point where there's s small possibly of her being reached, but there's no one left to reach her no one left willing to try, caitlyn wants her dead, Vi has given up on her, Silco is dead her hand, she's alone, alone except for sevika who will most likely use her to rule the undercity Jinx will be forced back into believing what she's doing is right

Until eventually she's going to snap, she's going to see that she has nobody and she'll be exactly who they think she is and she'll be more broken than ever.

But never mind all that the real thing that i think the arcane trailer is showing or more accurately hiding is the enemy. Okay hear me out we all know that season 2 just like season 1 will be releasing in three separate arcs each obviously show casing a separate story of the same season, now while Netflix has released three separate posters for said arcs they seem to have only given us one trailer, now if you look the trailer like that you can see the story breaks of the arcs, in the first part they show a clear enemy jinx, Vi and Cait are trying to take her down, the second the people of the undercity as they rise up but near the end there's nothing each shot fired each punch thrown even jinx threatening to burn it all down unlike the beginning of the trailer we aren't shown the enemy, this concerns me because who are they fighting, am I reading into this is it still Jinx that's the enemy or is caitlyn and Vi fighting each other or and what is most likely is there a new enemy something so feared that it actually makes them all fight together in some strange twisted way and if so what, i mean im actually clueless I've never played the game or gotten into anything else part of this universe so i have no idea what they could be up against.

Anyway thanks for reading my craziness, debates bellow

[velnna]

oooo absint and staeve/vesta?? that drawing of them cuddling is super cute!! i love art of characters cuddling and sleeping haha.

is stuff about their relationship (romantic or otherwise? not sure) spoilers, or would you be willing to talk about it?? i know staeve/vesta is half bug, did that give him some extra kinship with absint, however they met??

i dont really know absints personality from drawings other than i want to fluff his hair/fur, and i love the velvety skin detail, but whats he like?? what are he and staeve/vesta like together, and whats absint like, just himself?? im super curious.

also, im super happy youre putting staeve in the under garden, hes my favorite of anyones tavs, and im happy hes gonna be getting a life outside of bg3 as well!!

Ty! I love drawing cuddles it's my downfall 😔

Nothing fully is or isn't a spoiler because the Absint arc is still a long way from where we're at right now, but I can give some vague pointers.

Half bug staeve doesn't exactly give him more affinity with someone like Absint - not just because Absint is full bug, but also because of the type of bug he is. I know out of the bug people I've drawn most are moth/butterfly coded HOWEVER that's pretty rare in the world overall and comes with a layer of weirdness attached. Absint is basically so bug at times it's a little alien to everyone around him

Personality-wise, Absint is also complicated TM. There's a before and an after for him, wherein before he was a bit of a stuck up overachiever that didn't have much consideration for how his actions impacted others and after he's an overthinking anxious mess that doesn't trust himself not to harm people around him. One constant thing is he's very booksmart and street dumb, which I suppose works nicely with Staeve as the complete opposite lmao

And the rest is history 👁️👄👁️

[fandomfablesunleashed]

What are we?

Law x reader (she/her)

English is not my first language

Once again, it was supposed to be something short, but apparently, that's not possible for me.

Just Law being terrible with feelings.

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She takes a deep breath, her heart pounding relentlessly in her chest, each thud echoing in her ears. This could go either way, and she is aware of that. But she has to ask. She needs to know.

“What… what are we?” she asks, her voice a fragile tremor, barely holding back the storm of emotions beneath. Vulnerability laces her words, hanging in the air between them like a delicate thread ready to snap. “I mean… I know we have this connection, this bond, but… what does it make us?”

Her gaze flickers up to meet his, searching for anything that might give her a clue to what he’s thinking. Law’s golden eyes pierce through her, sharp yet enigmatic. He watches her intently, but there’s a careful restraint in his movements, the same kind of precision he brings to the operating table.

His arms rest on the desk in front of him, unmoving, though his fingers twitch restlessly, as if they’re craving something solid to hold on to—perhaps her, perhaps the truth. The room, typically filled with the quiet hum of the submarine's engines and the familiar scratching of Law’s pen across paperwork, now feels eerily hollow, as though the tension between them has consumed every sound.

Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, the practiced mask of a surgeon that he wears so effortlessly, Law is internally unraveling. A relationship—anything resembling emotional vulnerability—wasn’t a thing he had even remotely prepared for. Hell, he hadn't allowed himself to feel like this in years, hadn’t been with a woman in longer than he cared to admit. He had locked those parts of himself away, buried them deep, refusing to ever dig them up.

However, the mere thought of rejecting her evoked a profound sense of regret within him. Law mentally cursed himself for being affected like this but couldn't help himself. He cares… More than he’s willing to admit.

His mind races, frantic thoughts clashing, tripping over each other as they fight for dominance. A thousand responses fill his head, most of them irrational, some outright absurd.

Could he tell her?

The words—the ones he'd never even let himself whisper, let alone speak aloud.

I care about you.

The thought flashes across his mind like a lightning bolt, and immediately he recoils. How could he possibly say that? It was foolish, reckless, even. People come and go—he knows this better than anyone.

His heart has grown a thick, unyielding shell, a defense mechanism carefully cultivated to protect him from loss and pain. But this woman, this stubborn, damn persistent woman, had somehow broken through his defenses. She’d slipped under his guard, worked her way past his walls, and settled into a part of him that he hadn’t even realized was still there—his heart.

The realization terrifies him.

And yet, there’s an undeniable pull that excites him, too. He’s torn, teetering on the edge of two opposing desires—one urging him to push her away, to protect himself, to keep her at arm’s length, safe from the jagged edges of his soul. The other is stronger, louder. He wants her close; he wants her warmth against him; her laughter filling the spaces of his life; her touch soothing the scars he keeps hidden from the world.

He wants her.

He wanted to hold her close, touch her skin, kiss her, make her laugh, make her moan, and make her his.

He wanted to open up to her. To tell her stories from his past, share his fears, his dreams, and the most intimate parts of his soul.

He wanted to be vulnerable.

But even as he yearns for this, something inside him resists. The thought of being that vulnerable, that exposed, sends a cold shiver down his spine. It feels foreign. Unnatural.

No.

Scratch that.

It is foreign.

For years, Law had trained himself to shut down, to lock away his emotions and never let them see the light of day. Acting on feelings was dangerous—he’d learned that lesson the hard way. The path of emotional attachment only led to pain.

Right?

Yet, the way she looks at him now, her eyes wide and hopeful, her lips parted in anticipation of his answer, makes his heart twist painfully. She’s waiting.

Law clenches his jaw so tightly that it seems like his teeth might crack. The tendons in his neck stand out like cords, tense and strained, as if his body is locked in a battle with itself. He can sense himself caving, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him, threatening to break through the surface.

The silence in the room felt crushing, suffocating, like the very atmosphere was pressing downward upon him. He felt both excitement and dread rising in his chest. Law knew he had to speak.

He had to answer her.

Law swallows hard, the lump in his throat tingling like a jagged stone lodged deep in his chest. He opens his mouth, but the words are thick and unsteady. “I… I don't know”.

Damn it. That was not a good start.

His eyes flick to hers, searching her expression for any sign of her reaction to his reply. He saw her eyes flash in the light, a glimmer of…what was it? Disappointment?

Law cursed himself internally. This was not going well. What the hell was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to answer her question? What did he want them to be?

His grip on the edge of the desk tightens to the point where his knuckles are turning white. Law could feel a frustrated anger bubbling up inside him, mostly at himself. For once, he was at a complete loss of how to act, what to say, and what to do. And that was something that deeply disturbed him.

He felt like a fool. A complete and total fool.

Here he was, this brilliant doctor, an established captain of a fearsome and infamous crew. He could perform delicate, life-saving operations without breaking a sweat. He could lead his crew into battle and outmaneuver enemies who underestimated him.

Yet, all he could do was just sit there, staring at this woman like a dumbass, unable to manage more than a few short sentences.

Inside, Law was screaming, a howl of frustration that echoed in the caverns of his mind. Damn it all! He was never good at this—talking, sharing emotions, laying himself bare for someone else to see. His emotions were like tools, to be kept under tight control, used only when necessary.

But this was different. This was important.

His eyes flick back to her, seeing the shift in her expression, the growing worry, and the faint edge of disappointment pulling at the corners of her lips. The sight of it was like a blade twisting in his chest—sharp and unrelenting. He didn’t want to see that look on her face. He wanted to erase it, to make it vanish, replaced by something else—something softer. A smile. Her smile.

His throat feels impossibly dry, like every word he might say would crumble to dust before it could leave his lips. He has never felt so exposed, not like this, not with his heart laid bare and his defenses crumbling in front of someone else.

Sure, he’d been with women before. But those moments were fleeting, shallow, serving only to dull the edge of his stress, to fill the void of a momentary need. They meant nothing.

This was different. She was different.

He wanted more from her. So much more.

He wanted her trust—her unguarded, unbroken trust. He wanted her time, her laughter, her attention. He wanted her body pressed against his, yes, but not just that. He wanted her.

He wanted her love.

The last word slams into him like a physical blow, knocking the wind from his lungs. Love.

It’s the word he had thrown away long ago, buried so deep in the darkest corners of his soul that he’d convinced himself it no longer existed. It was a word he had told himself he would never trust or let near his heart.

And yet—there it was.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut.

He loves her.

And the fear of it—of what that meant—gripped him like ice in his veins, numbing him, paralyzing him. His hands shake slightly, the tremor small but betraying the storm of emotions raging beneath his surface. He wants to run, to bolt, to push her away, to deny it all and bury that damned word so deep inside him that it never sees the light of day again.

But he can’t.

Not anymore.

Because she had done something no one else had managed to do. She had stumbled into his life, into his guarded heart, and had somehow found a way to stay there. And now, she wasn’t just in his heart—she was in his thoughts, his very bones.

He didn’t know when it had happened. Maybe it was the first time she smiled at him, that soft, genuine smile that had disarmed him in a way he couldn’t understand. Or perhaps it was the moment their eyes first locked, that indescribable sensation stirring within him as they connected. Maybe it was the way her hand brushed his for the first time, and he hadn’t been able to forget the feeling since.

Or maybe it was the simple fact that someone like her—someone so beautiful, inside and out—had made the effort to understand him, to truly see him for who he was beneath all the layers of cold distance.

He just knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that he couldn’t deny it any longer.

He loved her.

“Come here”. Law’s voice was a quiet rumble, like thunder rolling low across the horizon, cutting through the thick silence of the room. His eyes, that familiar golden gaze, held her captive. The intensity in them was different tonight. The gold seemed to glow, flickering like embers in a fire, beckoning her across the small but seemingly vast distance between them.

Her feet moved before she could even process it, carrying her across the room with a quiet, almost tentative grace. The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the sound of her soft footfalls. She didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, her body responding to the call in his voice, the command in his gaze.

When she reached him, Law hadn’t moved. He remained where he sat, behind his desk, his eyes never leaving her. He watched her intently, as though studying her every movement, every breath, every shift of emotion that flickered across her face.

“Sit”.

He didn't know where this boldness was suddenly coming from, but he went with it. The word was quiet, but it carried the same weight as before—firm, unwavering. He gestured to his lap, his fingers barely moving, but the meaning was clear.

Without a word, without a second thought, she moved. She turned and lowered herself onto his lap, straddling him. The moment her weight settled, Law’s hands were on her, sliding up to her waist, pulling her close until there was no space left between them.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds in the room were the distant, low hum of the submarine’s systems and the uneven rhythm of their breathing. His chest rose and fell beneath her, each breath deep and slow, while hers came in short, rapid bursts.

Law kept his eyes on her, those burning golden eyes, as though he were searching her face for something—some sign, some answer. Her face was so close to his, mere inches separating them. He could feel the warmth of her breath, soft against his skin, and could smell the faint, intoxicating scent of her, earthy and sweet, like herbs and honey.

Her face was so close, mere inches from his. He could smell the faint scent of her skin, like a subtle mix of herbs and honey, and experience the warmth of her body when it touched his. His gaze traveled down to her lips, taking in the full, pink shape of them. He'd felt them before, tasted them even.

The memory of that first kiss had replayed over and over in his head, in his dreams. The taste of her had been addicting, leaving him craving more.

It played in his mind over and over, unbidden, each time leaving him craving more. He’d told himself it was nothing, just a physical need, a fleeting indulgence that he could easily forget. Now he knew how wrong he was. As he sat there, holding her in his lap, staring at her lips, he realized he'd never stopped craving her.

He'd never stopped wanting more.

She was staring at him, her eyes wide, her breath coming in short, shallow pants. And in those eyes, he saw her question—What are we? It was there, unspoken, lingering in the space between them.

He knew he had to answer her, he knew he had to say something. He was Trafalgar Law, captain of the Heart Pirates, a brilliant surgeon, a man feared and respected across the seas. Yet here, now, with her in his lap, he felt completely out of his depth. Words failed him, his thoughts a tangled mess, his heart racing like a storm inside his chest.

Damn it!

Frustration flared within him, intertwining with a deep sense of vulnerability that left Law feeling unbalanced—unsteady, almost weak. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hip, his grip tightening to the point of near pain. Yet, instead of recoiling, she leaned in closer, resting her forehead gently against his.

Her touch was a balm to his burning skin, soothing the turmoil raging inside him. The warmth of her body next to his and the soft, warm breaths she exhaled created a heady mix of comfort and desire. She smelled so good, looked so pretty.

His pulse hammered in his chest, loud and thunderous in his ears. He felt it in his throat, felt it pulsating in his head, and the urge to pull her closer battled with the instinct to push her away.

Say something, Law. Say anything!

His mind raced, tangled in a web of conflicting emotions, while his throat felt impossibly dry. He knew what he should say. I care about you. I trust you. I want you. But the words refused to leave his mouth. He could feel his jaw clenching, his fingers twitching against her hip in an anxious rhythm.

He opened his mouth, desperation clawing at him, but once again, nothing came out. Damn it, he thought, frustration mounting. Why was it so difficult to speak? Each passing second stretched painfully, and in the silence, he noticed a flicker of something in her eyes—something unsettling.

Her forehead remained pressed against his, her breath coming in short bursts that warmed his skin, but the look in her eyes shifted. It was subtle but unmistakable—Resignation? No, not that… disappointment?

His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. No, dammit to hell, he thought. That wasn't the look he wanted to see on her face. He needed to change that. Law’s fingers dug deeper into her hip, his grip nearly bruising.

“No,” he growled, his voice a low rumble filled with urgency. “That’s not what you should look like”.

Her eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of confusion washing over her features. “You’re not supposed to look like that,” he repeated, his tone almost desperate, his frustration spilling over into his words.

“You're too beautiful to look so sad”.

She was stunned by his statement, the intensity in his eyes overwhelming. For a moment, she simply stared at him, her mind struggling to catch up with the weight of his declaration. But slowly, the meaning sank in.

She saw the turmoil of emotions flickering in his golden eyes—the tension in his jaw, the raw strength in his grip on her hip. Law was an individual who tended to refrain from expressing his emotions, however, at this particular moment, he was confronting a deep-seated struggle to articulate his thoughts.

She reached up with a hand, her fingers delicately brushing against his skin, trailing lightly along the side of his jaw. The touch was so gentle, so tentative, that Law almost flinched. But instead of retreating, he leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as if savoring the sensation.

His gaze flickered down to her lips, taking in their soft, full shape. The memory of their brief kiss surged to the forefront of his mind, the taste of her lingering like a bittersweet reminder of something he couldn’t quite grasp. It had been too short, too fleeting, and he had tried desperately to forget it.

He wanted that taste again.

No, he needed it.

Slowly, Law tilted his head, his face moving closer to hers. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, a magnetic pull drawing him in. His breath ghosted over her skin, warm and unsteady. She knew what he was going to do, but she stopped him by gently pressing his chest.

“What are we?” she asked once more, her voice soft yet firm, slicing the tension that enveloped them.

Law froze, his face inches from hers. The weight of her question hung heavy in the air, simple yet profoundly complex. He felt her warmth seep through the fabric of his shirt, and he recognized that this was the crux of everything they had danced around for so long.

What are we to each other?

His jaw clenched, the muscles tightening as an unreadable expression settled over his face. He had avoided this question for months, but now it loomed before him, an insurmountable wall he had to scale.

But how could he?

How could he articulate feelings he hadn’t fully understood himself?

“What do you want me to say?” he asked, his voice coming out rougher than he had intended.

It was a dodging attempt and they both knew it.

She could hear the hesitancy in his voice, see the uncertainty swirling in his eyes. She knew he was avoiding the question, deflecting as he always did when faced with raw emotions. But she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily this time.

“You know what I’m asking,” she said, her voice steady, soft yet firm, cutting through the fog of tension. “I want to know what we are”.

Law’s eyes darkened further, his jaw clenching almost painfully as he felt the weight of her gaze. She was right; he knew exactly what she wanted to hear. But the words felt like stones lodged in his throat, and he fought against the tide of conflicting thoughts and emotions that surged within him.

Tell her the truth. Tell her how you feel. Tell her what she means to you.

But how? How could he put his feelings into words? Law had never been a man of many sentiments; emotions were his enemy, locked away behind layers of cold stoicism. He was known for his coolheadedness and unshakeable resolve. Yet here she was, this woman who had somehow burrowed her way into his heart, making him feel things he had never felt before.

He felt raw, exposed, and vulnerable. Every thought, every feeling, every emotion was laid bare, and he had no defenses left. His fingers clenched and unclenched on her hip, his head lowered, as he fought against the tide of emotions threatening to drown him.

His fingers clenched and unclenched on her hip, his head lowered. He felt like he was drowning, drowning in his thoughts and emotions. He was a pirate, a criminal, a former warlord. Men like him didn't get happily ever afters, they didn't get someone who made their heart ache.

He didn't deserve a woman like her.

He wanted to tell her that. To warn her. To say, Stay away. I’ll only cause you pain. But he couldn’t. Damn it, he couldn’t.

His chest ached with a potent mixture of guilt, longing, and an insatiable need. He wanted her, needed her, craved her. Her hand on his chest, the warmth radiating from her, her intoxicating scent—it was all too much, overwhelming him, drowning out the sound of his thoughts. He felt like a drowning man grasping for air, desperate to stay afloat.

And she was his lifeline.

He looked up at her, meeting her gaze, those beautiful dark eyes that seemed to see straight into his soul. He was a man who didn’t know how to be vulnerable, yet here she was, gently coaxing him into that unfamiliar territory. Her expression was soft, understanding, yet she held his gaze, silently encouraging him to speak, to be honest with her, and with himself.

At that moment, he realized he couldn’t hold back any longer. The words were right there, teetering on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill out.

I want you. I need you. I can't stop thinking about you. I can't let you go.

There were a million things he wanted to say, a million things he should say. But those three words, those three simple words, were the ones that were burning the brightest in his mind.

“I love you”.

They tumbled out in a rush, low and rough, but loud enough to echo in the stillness of his office. As soon as they left his mouth, Law realized he had never really uttered those words to anyone—not to his parents, not to Cora-san, not to any woman he had ever known. Yet here he was, saying them to this incredible woman who had somehow captured his heart.

The confession hung in the air, almost tangible. The strangest part was the relief that flooded him, a weight lifting from his shoulders as he finally articulated what had been burning within him for months.

He waited for her response, his gaze fixed on her face, desperate to read her expression, to decipher her thoughts. Would she be shocked? Surprised? Would there be discomfort?

He certainly wasn’t prepared for the smile that broke across her face.

A slow, soft smile spread across her lips, her eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. The sight made his heart skip a beat, breath catching in his throat. She was smiling. He had just confessed his feelings in a rushed, desperate whisper, and she was smiling.

Law's mind reeled, his thoughts scrambling to understand her reaction. This was not what he had expected. He had prepared for shock, uncertainty, rejection even. But not this. Not that soft, beautiful smile.

He felt a sudden rush of heat to his face. Was he blushing?

Law shifted slightly, uncomfortably aware of how vulnerable he felt at that moment. He tried to act casual, to ignore the rapid beat of his heart, the hot flush on his cheeks, but it was useless. She was looking right at him, seeing straight through his defenses.

“You're smiling. Why are you smiling?” he asked, a mix of confusion and irritation coloring his tone.

She chuckled, a soft sound that sent shivers down his spine. “Is it not expected for a woman to smile when she’s been told she’s loved by the man she also loves very much?”

Law froze, his mind grinding to a halt as her comment sank in. She loved him too.

He had confessed his affections, and she had reciprocated. It seemed so simple, so obvious, now that he thought about it. Yet, it still felt surreal, like a dream from which he feared he might awaken at any moment.

“You… love me?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

She chuckled again, her smile growing wider. “Did you really think I would have stayed this long if I didn’t?”

Law’s jaw worked, but no words came out. Her question was so straightforward, so direct, that it threw him off. Of course, he knew she cared about him. They had fought side by side, saved each other’s lives, and faced insurmountable odds together. But he hadn’t realized the depth of her devotion until now.

He had been so focused on his feelings, his confusion, that he hadn't noticed hers.

He was an idiot.

She was looking at him, the corners of her eyes crinkled in that way he loved, her gentle smile still on her lips. Her gaze held no judgment, no anger, no doubt— only a calm, reassuring gaze that ignited a thrill within him.

“For someone so intelligent, you can be really dense sometimes,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Law tried to glare at her, attempted to act like her words didn’t affect him, but he was sure he wasn’t fooling her. She knew him too well, could see right through him. It was true; he was dense when it came to feelings, especially his own.

“I… I didn’t—” he began, then stopped. He didn’t know what to say. He had made a confession, poured his heart out, and now she was there, smiling at him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He felt naked, exposed, but at the same time, lighter. He had finally told her how he felt, and she had told him she felt the same.

And she was still smiling at him.

His thoughts were a jumbled mess, a tangle of conflicting emotions. He was relieved that she loved him back but bewildered, scared, and vulnerable. He had never been good with feelings, yet here he was, confessing his love to the woman he had once tried to convince himself he merely tolerated.

He had been foolishly convinced that he could keep his longing for her locked away, that he could just continue on with his life, focusing on his goals and dreams. But she had seen through his facade, had seen through him.

And now she was here, in his arms, in his office, looking up at him with that damned soft smile on her face. He could feel her body heat, smell her sweet scent; it was driving him mad—the proximity, the knowledge that she loved him too.

He didn’t know how to handle it, how to process it. Her hand was still on his chest, her touch burning through his shirt. She was just looking at him, really seeing him, and it was almost unbearable. This was the most vulnerable he had ever felt in his life.

“Law”. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. It cut right into his thoughts, anchoring him in the moment.

His eyes met hers, and he was reminded all over again just how beautiful she was. Her dark eyes, her soft smile, her body pressed against his—it was all consuming. He couldn’t look away. He was trapped in her gaze, and there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Her hand moved up to his face, gently cupping his cheek. He felt very hot when she touched his skin, and leaned into her cool palm without wanting to. She was so close he could feel her breath on his chin, and he realized he was holding his breath, his chest painfully tight. “Now, can you answer my initial question?”

Her question shook Law from his trance. Which question? His mind was foggy, thoughts scattered. All he could focus on was the feel of her hand on his cheek and the sound of her voice. He struggled to remember the initial question, to recall what had prompted all of this.

Then it hit him. What are we?

What were they? Good question. They were partners, allies, friends—but that didn’t seem adequate anymore. Not after what had just happened. He had confessed his love for her, and she had confessed her love for him. So what did that make them? A couple? Lovers? The very thought made his stomach flutter.

“I… we…” Law stammered, trying to find the right words, but his brain felt like it was malfunctioning. How does one define a relationship?

He had never been in one, had never felt any desire to be in one until he met her. She had managed to break down his walls without even trying, getting under his skin in a way no one else had. And now here they were, and he had no idea how to define what they were.

She chuckled, the sound soft and tinged with fondness.

“Is it really that hard of a question?” she teased, her hand still on his cheek, her body still pressed against his.

Irritation mixed with embarrassment flashed through him as he realized she was finding this amusing. “Don’t mock me,” he grumbled, his voice hoarse. “I don’t have a script for this situation. I’m not exactly an expert on relationships”.

“Expert on what?” she prompted, giving him a pointed look, her voice still tinged with that same fond amusement.

His irritation flared, but he knew there was no heat behind it. She was enjoying this, relishing the fact that he was flustered and bewildered. “Relationships,” he snapped, the word sounding foreign on his tongue.

Then it hit him again. Why did she make him repeat it? Her question echoed in his mind: What are we?

What were they? Partners, friends, and lovers. The words echoed in his head, each sending a flutter through his chest.

He looked down at her, meeting her gaze. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and the rapid beat of his heart. He was so out of his element, so vulnerable, yet inexplicably joyful at the same time.

“Lovers,” he said, the word low and rough. “We’re lovers”.

He tried to wrap his mind around it, trying to come to terms with the reality of the situation. He was in love with her, and she was in love with him. He had confessed his feelings, and she had reciprocated. They were lovers. It was surreal, unexpected, and yet somehow felt completely natural.

She let out another soft laugh, her hand remaining on his cheek. Her touch was warm, safe. “Was that so hard?”

He felt his irritation bubbling up again, but it was tempered with an almost overwhelming wave of affection. She was so cheeky, so goddamn bold. He loved it. He opened his mouth to respond, intending to snap at her, but then he caught sight of her smile, her bright eyes, and all words died in his throat.

She was beautiful, smart, strong, incredible. And she was his.

The word echoed in his mind, sending a shiver down his spine.

His.

She was his, and he was hers. It was so simple yet so monumental.

[sugar-crash]

🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁

(Beginning Relationship Pt. II Edition!)

(I'm trying to be less angst-oriented but that’s a legit struggle when it comes to Turbo, so, let’s see how the topic of the kinds of dates you guys go to fairs till I start going on a tirade🔑… I hope y’all are ready for this, I’m sure as hell not)

- Just stating the obvious here when I say he’s not taking you anywhere particularly nice for dates, not that there’s much of a choice in the arcade in the years he’s around (with Tapper’s release date being 1984 and it is not exactly a fancy restaurant).

- Thinks sitting on the roof of his racing car and talking with you is a date and calls it as such when you bring up that you guys haven’t been on a date for a bit.

- He prefers being in his game over being in any others, his is the best of the best in his eyes… Calls your game tacky sometimes whenever you get on his nerves… Doesn’t apologize about it, he’s so stupid.

- Something about him screams grilled food (ex: burgers, hotdogs, corn, etc) lover, I don’t know why but I can see him burning grilled food and angrily exclaiming as he has to throw away said food.

- Fireworks lover, no explanation I just think he likes how bright it is (… :])

- He acts like he constantly doesn’t care about what you go through like he’s above everything, but— That’s a lie, one of his most blatant ones honestly.

- He’s a hard-ass Istg, an overly dramatic and smug hard-ass that takes pleasure in teasing the shit out of you whenever he can.

- Pranks? …Pranks, his kinds of pranks can be incredibly cruel at times, especially when they’re done to others besides you— The twins have it rough I just know it.

- Your is like, gum being stuck to your back or something— The twins?? Their carts filled to the brim with red glitter, makes sure that shit NEVER LEAVES, years later they find some remnant of this violent act against them and it makes at least one of them see red.

- He has trouble understanding the gravity of his actions, only willing to see his perspective cause that’s the only perspective he deems important.

- In general, I don’t think he’s able to put himself in another person's shoes, making his way of loving you a hell of a lot harder to interpret for him in a solid manner considering love is about understanding where the other is coming from when a disagreement occurs.

- And you sure as hell know there’s going to be disagreements between you guys, especially if your personality exudes something his doesn’t.

- He can’t understand as well as he would like, and so if you deal with something particularly rough he isn’t as much of a help as he’d secretly like to be— With his easily frustrated personality being turned onto himself rather than someone else.

- You bring about change with your mere presence in his life, you make him think rather than act, for once in his life he exercises hesitance, and fear.

- It honest to god scares him at times, shutting himself away whenever he becomes too vulnerable, he’s an independent soul, he likes things a certain way and wants them to stay that way.

- But how can he possibly resist you when you deal with him so well? When you love him so well? When he loves you so well?

- Yeah no you’re not getting rid of him and he’s not going to be able to get rid of his attachment to you.

- As much as he tries to push it down, as much as he tries to forget, even a year later when he’s in hiding he yearns for you entirely.

- Though he has to practice self-restraint so he isn’t discovered… He wouldn’t be able to stand facing you if he was caught by you when he was still hiding away. But this isn’t Post-RoadBlasters so I’m not going to build more upon that here.

- You’re the unirresistible force and he’s the old unmovable object, something’s gotta give.

(Sfkd dtsq the cfq rcfjapdl fl scd dla)

[winxanity-ii]

IT'S ME, MARIO!

ship: itadori x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 1.7k a/n: idc idc idc, yuji would definetly make a fool of himself if he knew you were nervous

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Since living on campus, you'd adjusted to being on your own. It had been… interesting, to say the least.

Moving from the comfort of your hometown, where you knew everyone and everyone knew you, to a sprawling university was like stepping into another world.

But you'd managed. Slowly but surely, you'd found your rhythm.

You'd been pushing yourself to attend those countless events and programs that the campus threw at you, dipping your toes into the waters of socializing at your own pace.

Sometimes, it was easier to just be a face in the crowd, observing from the sidelines, taking mental notes of how people interacted, what made them tick.

You'd practiced small talk like it was an art form—commenting on the weather, complimenting someone’s shirt, asking what their major was—and for the most part, you'd gotten better at it.

It was a slow process, but you were learning to navigate the chaotic dance of college life.

Currently, you were sitting in your honors open communication class, trying to remember how to breathe without making it seem like you were hyperventilating.

The classroom, with its cozy size of about ten people, should have felt intimate, manageable. But instead, it felt like a pressure cooker. Every word, every glance, every single goddamn breath felt magnified.

You were staring blankly at the front of the room as your classmate, Akane, wrapped up her presentation on how to cook a traditional Japanese breakfast: tamagoyaki, miso soup, grilled fish, rice, and even a beautiful spread of pickled vegetables.

It sounded extravagant, yet she made it look so simple.

Probably because she didn't have to wrestle with the invisible, clawing beast of anxiety like you did every time you so much as thought about public speaking.

Your palms were sweaty, knees weak—okay, maybe not that dramatic, but still. You were jittery and nervous, your pulse a steady drum in your ears because you were up next. And Akane, bless her, was finishing up with a flourish, her smile bright and confident.

You tried to take a deep breath, feeling your throat tighten. Yuji, sitting right next to you, leaned over slightly, his shoulder brushing yours, and whispered, "Hey, you okay?"

You managed a stiff nod, mumbling out a barely audible, "Yeah." But you didn’t dare look at him, because you knew the concern in his eyes would undo you. Instead, you stared hard at the scratched-up desk in front of you, willing yourself not to freak out.

Yuji knew about your anxiety. You'd confided in him more than once, spilling the mess of thoughts that spiraled in your head before you had to speak in front of people.

How your heart raced, your mouth went dry, your hands shook. How no matter how much you prepared, how many times you practiced, your body still froze up.

It was like your brain and body were in this weird, dysfunctional relationship where neither of them wanted to cooperate.

"L/N-chan?" Your professor, Nitta Akari, said your name with that polite, expectant tone that sent another jolt of panic through you.

You opened your mouth, but before you could make any sound that resembled a response, Yuji spoke up.

"Sorry, teach, but is it alright if I go first? I'm a little shy…" His voice was as smooth and casual as ever, and you turned to look at him, utterly confused.

What the hell?

Nitta-sensei blinked but nodded, clearly caught off guard. "Uh, sure, Itadori-kun. Go ahead."

Yuji stood, giving you a quick wink as he made his way to the front of the room. You were still processing what just happened when he started speaking, but instead of launching into the well-thought-out paper on global warming you helped him prepare, he began with: "Mario, the Idea vs. Mario, the Man."

You blinked. Once. Twice.

What the fuck?

"Everyone knows Mario is cool as fuck. But who knows what he’s thinking? Who knows why he crushes turtles? And why do we think about him as fondly as we think of the mythical (nonexistent?) Dr. Pepper? Perchance…"  

You couldn't even react properly because he was already going off, delivering the opening lines with this bizarre mixture of enthusiasm and conviction, as if he was genuinely pondering the existential meaning of a pixelated plumber's life.

Everyone in the room, including Nitta-sensei, was staring at him with varying degrees of confusion.

There was a couple of snickers, and you saw one of your classmates, Yuki, already recording this on her phone, probably for TikTok.

Yuji, however, was undeterred, fully committing to the bit as he paced slightly, gesturing with his hands like he was giving a TED Talk. "Why does he crush turtles? Is it because he's saving the princess? Or is it because he's trying to save himself from his own internal void? Is it about the princess or the chase?"

You were sitting there, mouth slightly agape, because this was not what you spent hours helping him research. You'd spent countless nights, coffee-fueled and sleep-deprived, going over statistics and climate change projections, not pondering Mario’s deep-seated motivations for stomping on Goombas.

"And those mushrooms. Seriously, who decided that eating weird fungi would make you bigger? What kind of metaphorical bullshit is that? Some kind of growth narrative, maybe? Mario, the eternal underdog—"

"—Itadori-kun," Nitta-sensei interrupted, her voice carrying that unmistakable tone of an adult who's trying very hard to stay patient. Her eyebrow was twitching ever so slightly, and you could almost hear her internal scream as she tried to make sense of whatever the hell Yuji was talking about. "What point are you trying to make with this?"

Yuji blinked, completely unbothered, like he'd only just noticed he'd wandered off into another dimension of thought. "I dunno, but I think…" he trailed off, his eyes flickering around the room like he was looking for the answer somewhere in the air.

It was almost endearing, the way he tilted his head like a confused puppy, his lips pursed as if deep in thought.

There was a pregnant pause, the kind that stretched on just long enough to become uncomfortable. Nitta-sensei exhaled, the sound barely restrained, and she muttered his name again, "Itadori-kun." There was a warning there, a gentle push for him to get back on track, but you could tell her patience was wearing thin.

And in that moment, something in you snapped, like a rubber band stretched too far.

You knew you should let him flounder in his awkwardness, let him take the hit because, well, he put himself in this situation. But instead, you heard yourself saying, "I think Itadori-kun is trying to say that Mario isn't just a game character. He's a symbol of all the pointless shit we chase in life, only to find out the reward wasn't even in the castle—it was in the journey..." The words tumbled out in a rush, your voice wobbling slightly, and you felt the eyes of the entire class on you.

There was a beat of silence, then another, before Yuji broke into a grin, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Yup! That's what I was trying to say!" He clapped his hands together, looking almost proud, and you couldn't help but feel a little heat rise to your cheeks.

How does he make everything sound so simple, so obvious?

Nitta-sensei just sighed, rubbing her forehead like she was trying to ward off a headache. She looked at Yuji, then at you, then back at Yuji, her expression caught between exasperation and something almost like amusement. "Alright, thank you, Itadori-kun," she said finally, her voice dry. "For that… unique interpretation."

She waved a hand, clearly done with the whole ordeal. You could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, like she was trying not to laugh, and it made you feel a tiny bit better.

At least she wasn't mad.

Just as she opened her mouth again, probably to call your name, the bell rang, loud and obnoxious and utterly glorious. You nearly sagged in relief, your muscles unwinding all at once.

The class collectively began to shuffle, packing up their things with the sluggish enthusiasm of students who had made it through yet another class.

Nitta-sensei sighed again, louder this time, and you almost felt bad for her. "Those of you who didn't present today will need to submit a recording since we spent too much time on…" She gestured vaguely at Yuji, who grinned sheepishly, "…this."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, relief flooding through you as you started packing up your things, all the tension and worry melting away like snow in the spring sun.

You glanced at Yuji, who was already waiting for you by the door, his bag slung over one shoulder, looking like he'd just casually won the lottery.

As you walked over, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him. "What the hell was that, Yuji? Why didn't you read the presentation we practiced?"

He shrugged, giving you a lopsided grin. "I saw you were nervous, and I figured if I made a fool of myself first, maybe you wouldn't be so worried. You know, like, break the ice or something."

Your heart gave a little flip at that, and you couldn’t help the small, soft smile that tugged at your lips. He'd always been like this since you met him—considerate in his own goofy, unpredictable way. "Thank you, Yuji..." you murmured, feeling your face heat up a bit, the corners of your mouth curling up despite yourself. "Seriously, that was… really sweet."

Yuji beamed at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No problem! I like being there for you, you'd do the same for me."

You giggled, the tension easing out of your shoulders as you nodded. "Alright, how about I buy you lunch at The Den to fully show my appreciation. Deal?"

"Deal!" He practically bounced on his feet, his energy infectious, as he reached out and took your hand, his fingers interlocking with yours in a warm, comfortable grip.

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but his touch was gentle and familiar, and you found yourself relaxing, your hand fitting perfectly in his.

"Come on, I'm craving those teriyaki burgers!" he said, already pulling you into the hallway, the two of you blending into the sea of students rushing off to their next classes.

You couldn't help but shake your head, a fond smile playing on your lips as you let him drag you along, your heart feeling a little lighter, your worries a little less daunting.

Maybe public speaking wasn't your thing, but having someone like Yuji by your side, you figured you'll be just fine.

A/N: hahaha i just couldn't help myself after seeing this meme going around online...

[m1ngkis]

Jeong Yunho #NEEDTHAT (18+)

A/N: MINORS BE GONE not me blushing rereading this.

It had to be going on a month since you had seen Yunho. His schedule as an idol kept him busy and yours equally so. The most you two had time to do was text each other, trying your best to find a hole in your plans to see each other.

"Wednesday?" You looked up from your calendar to gauge his reaction through the facetime call, which, if you were reading the furrow of his brows correctly, wasn't good.

"Shooting a couple of promo shows." Yunho sighed as his hairstylist continued to tug at his head, spraying a bit of product on the strands of hair.

"Afterwards?"

"Dance practice. Then, hyung has a song he wants to work on with me." You could see his frustration for the situation sit on his features. "I have to go. Manager is calling." He groaned before mumbling an I love you and waiting for you to say it back before hanging up.

It wasn't until two more weeks later that Ateez was granted a vacation and the first thing Yunho did was ask to be dropped off at your place.

His text came through your phone the same time his knocking was heard at the door. "Let me in." And you hopped up off the couch, not bothering to check the camera to see if it was really him.

With a squeal, you opened the door and jumped into his arms, holding him tight as he dropped his bag to catch you.

"I missed you so bad." Your speech muffled into his jacket as he groaned, his arms wrapping around your frame and squeezing hard.

"I missed you too."

Yunho walked inside your apartment with you clinging to him like a sloth to a tree, kicking your door closed and tossing his bag to the side. "I thought I'd never see you again." His hand cradled the back of your head as he gazed into your eyes.

"Don't be dramatic, Yuyu." You chuckled, running your palm down his cheek. He melted in your touch, grabbing your wrist to keep it in place as his eyes fluttered shut.

He rubbed his face into your hand, relishing in its softness and warmth. A moan slipped past his lips so quietly you almost didn't catch it before he kissed your hand.

"I missed your touch so bad, I thought I was gonna die."

"Really?" He nodded as he took hold of your other hand and placed them both on his head, letting your nails scratch lightly at his scalp as his arms wrap around your body again.

"Oh God, please..." Yunho whines, dropping his head to your chest and biting at you skin. Your fingers curl around his hair and tug until his head snaps back.

"What do you need, Yuyu?"

Yunho shakes his head as his hips start to thrust up shallowly. His need bleeding through his body and making him lose control over himself. "Anything...everything. What ever you're willing to give, baby please."

You pucker your lips and plant a kiss to his forehead before whispering. "I have an idea but you have to let me go for a second."

He actually whimpers at the thought of your bodies not being combined for more than half a second but his arms loosen and he allows you to get up.

"Take off some of your clothes." Only then does he realize that he didn't even bother taking off his shoes before entering your home.

He does so and sits them in the entryway. Afterwards, his jacket and shirt are shed as he makes his way back to the couch.

You run to your room and come back with a scarf. "Do you trust me?" The scarf dangles from your fingertips and a smile graces your lips.

"You're beautiful...I trust you with my life." His eyes sparkle in a way you have never seen and it almost pains you to hide them behind the material and you tie it behind his head.

Immediately, Yunho tenses. His hands curl into fists as his breathing becomes ragged. "B-baby? You still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here." You run a hand down his chest, your nails grazing against the skin, causing him to shudder as his body melts into the couch. "I need you to breathe."

A shaky breath exits his nose. "C-can I touch you?" The desperation in his voice makes your thighs clench.

You don't answer him, opting to adjust him so he's laying on the couch. Slowly, you start to remove your clothing and toss it his way. His frantic hands grab onto every piece like a life line.

"Ready?" You ask. Yunho perks up. "Yes, yes. Please, Im so ready."

You hook your leg over him so you hover over his face and once he feels your thighs on either side of his head, he groans and his arms grab hold of you, pulling you down to sit on his face.

"Yunho!" You yelp as he moans against your heat, lapping up your wetness like a starving dog. "Wait!" You reach for his head, tugging at his hair.

"Mmmm hmm." His tongue laps at you and his eyes roll back behind the blindfold as moans spill from your lips. A month with out him dialed your sensitivity to 20 and its apparent in the way you fall forward against the arm of the couch. Your stomach heaving as the knot in it tightens.

"So good, Yu! Yes!"

Yunho thrusts up into nothing as your wetness drips down his chin and his fingers dig into your thighs. His own moans vibrate your skin as he guides your hips up and down his face with no regard for the mess you two make.

Your moans climb in pitch and his tongue speeds up until the knot in your belly snaps and you cum. Yunho licks it up and slips the scarf from his eyes as you come down from your peak.

"Was that good?" He asks with a smirk.

[murkystarlight]

Hey, I just asked sillysnaildraws and whataboutsimple this because I’m trying to make it a thing: If you were a MCSM style admin, what would you look like/ represent/ have as your symbolism/ whatever else?

I have never thought about this either-

I never actually made an oc before(that's not true- but I haven't made one for a fandom before.)

I also am not very crispy on the knowledge on the Admins(or the entirety of season 2)

But I'm willing to give it a go

Her main color would be purple (cause I like purple) but like.. I'm thinking the skin would be like.. a deep blue? Navy color? Her hair, clothes and other stuff(if I add them later-) would probably be purple though.

She has long hair. Like really long. She likes to play with the gravity and make her hair look like it's underwater. And same with her clothes. Very flowy

She has like- some glitter? Star dust thing around her. I saw how the Admins all have like.. body suits? They have a dark body suit looking thing with different designs on top I think(I need to look into them more-- I'm sorry). So I thought, let's give her a black body suit, and make glowing dust float around the suit. But, she likes covering herself. So she has like.. a big dress(cloak maybe?) on top of the body suit(which is also what I meant with flowy clothing). And since the glowing substance isn't stuck onto the body suit, it all kind of spills out and float around her dress(and her everything else) now. But you know what's the biggest thing about glitter? It gets EVERYWHERE

You always find it. No matter how hard you tried to get rid of all of it. So I like that to be the case. She doesn't mind it. But the others... they mind it a lot

Her eyes are white. Just white. The sclera, iris and pupil. Just white. And y'know, it glows and stuff

And my idea for the star dust thing is because, I thought it would be nice if she represent like... nether stars? Or just stars. (Like I said. I have no idea-)

And for the reasoning of that... she's like some sort of.. watcher. Spectator? And since stars are always in the sky(even at morning though you can't see them) I thought it would fit pretty well

She doesn't like getting involved into things. But don't get it wrong, she loves drama. In fact, she makes drama. Then steps out, relax and just watch the drama unfold.

So I would think that she doesn't like standing out too much. But still wants to be in the spotlight- if that makes any sense

So instead of staying in Admin form, she stays in like.. a makeshift human form. Since, then she would stand out when between the other Admins, but doesn't attract much attention onto herself in other occassions since she looks like a normal player(I think her Admin form kind of has a blackhole effect? Since it's flowy and her colors are very dark and all that she kind of- Well, either doesn't stand out much and becomes one with the background or overwhelms everything around her a bit)

Enjoys being alone, but will come out to meet you whenever you ask her to. She doesn't mind leaving to meet people or just have a nice walk.

Her personality- the righthand man who is planning a secret plot to overthrow the leader type. She's an ambitious one

But most of the time, she's rather childish and playful.

She's a free spirit but often doesn't know what to do. So she stayed at the other Admins towns for a while before she left to the overworld.

Once in the overworld, she started moving from town to town, making a few friends here and there. Since she stays in her human form it wasn't much of a problem. She likes rabbit(bunnies?), because of some silly legend in my country about rabbits living on the moon- and often goes stargazing. She likes to Uh- feel like she's one with the night sky. All her colors in her admin form are dark(except the sparkly stuff. Cause it sparkles)(and maybe her hair is a bit of a brighter purple than the rest of her outfit) so she could just pass by as the night sky. Makes her easy to watch things from above or not get disturbed. Or both. Both works

And this is just a silly thing I thought of(not considering to actually put this in, but thought it'd be funny) she went to the moon. She even made a small civilization there!

But jokes aside, I feel like before she started settling into different towns, she's tried to make a lot of her own. Just small towns. But they never kept her intrested enough. And she easily got bored of them. So like the free spirit she is, she just- left. Had some fun with them and just left.

I also had a thought, since she... I'm not sure if she fits in with one of the Admins. And she has a makeshift human form(not a human form of what she looks like without powers), maybe she was made by the Admins? They could do that, right? Create a living, talking... thing(Idk-)

I think I got everything I thought of written down here. As well as the answers to your question. If I understood them wrong- please tell me. And I'll try again(or just fix a few parts) after learning more about the admins-

This is just a bunch of random thought I had squished into one so- yeah... this is all over the place

[rechererdureveperdu]

.

[dragonsbluee]

I see your gay uncles of the straw hats Jimbrook and raise you old, gay, heartbroken, pirate captians who find a loving, romantic relationship in each other as they watch over a group of chaotic youngsters.

Because Brook and Yorki had a heartbreaking goodbye, and Brook spent 50 years mourning, but now he has a second chance. He wasn't expecting anything, but then, lo and behold! A handsome, kind, capable fish man enters stage right, and Brook is smitten. Here is someone who understands the grief of losing a captian and partner, then having to take their place to hold the crew together, but ultimately watching thier crew fall apart or suffer due to factors outside their control.

For Jimbei the last few years have been a whirlwind of chaos. He was looking forward to a new adventure full of chaos of his own making and choices. Now, enter stage left, this fantastic, enigmatic, adorable skeleton (and he's a musician!), who is a wonderful presence on a ship full of younger pirates. Jimbei never really moved on from the loss of the Sun Pirates, and hasn't had time to mourn all the friends he's lost in the past few years. But now he finds companionship and comfort in Brook. Someone who doesn't expect him to move on, let's him reminisce, but keeps him from getting stuck in his mourning. He's never thought of romance seriously before, but now he finds himself wanting.

The two meet in the middle, center stage on a ship of dreams as they forge a new one together. They still keep and work towards their individual dreams but find pieces of each other in them. Brook looks forward to the day he can introduce Laboon to Jimbei, and Jimbei has promised to translate the whale's words for Brook. Jimbei will see freedom for his people and finds motivation in every new song Brook writes and story he tells. Together, they find peace, calm, and rest. They find excitement, companionship, and a harbour in the other after years of storms.

[sidesteppostinghours]

6, 11, and 19- UHHHHHH any of them that vibes these questions! <:"Dc

afternoon lori!! thank you for the ask :D

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Caine-

taking advice: chen. without a doubt its chen. caine would question him or argue if they dont understand why hes giving the advice he does, but at the end of the day, he trusts that chen has his reasons, and that those reasons make sense.

refusing advice: hmmm,,, significantly harder to answer tbh. caine is pretty accepting of a lot of avenues of information. maybe hollow ground? so far hes been extremely suspicious of the kingpin, Especially after almost getting threaded. either that or regina, but would she even survive long enough to give them advice???? shes the only person so far they actually want revenge against.

Cyrus-

taking advice: anathema. too bad hes dead. nobody to stop cyrus now.

refusing advice: id say chen, purely for "fuck him, he wouldnt piss on me if i was burning" reasons. hed be way too suspicious of any 'advice' chen gives to act on it.

Cecilia-

taking advice: ceci doesnt exactly do advice. more like suggestions. most of them come from ortega, not because she particularly trusts him but because most of his suggestions tend to be fun. ofc she also turned down therapy so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

refusing advice: daniel. for extremely petty reasons. even deciding to stay at his place was an idea she came up with, not him. danny has no Idea how much of a pain shes going to be now that theyre rooming together.

Cynthia-

taking advice: hollow ground. #justthreadedtingz😍🤪

refusing advice: the funny thing about cynthia is that she cares for the people shes close to, she just doesnt trust them, so this applies to a lot of people. definitely ortega because thats probably the messiest divorce i ever did see, but also dr mortum, because she doesnt think she would understand the situation shes in enough to give advice even if their relationship Doesnt completely fall apart when the puppet thing is revealed.

11. They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

Caine- nothing really to spend it on. save, unless theres something he really wants to get his hands on.

Cyrus- could be useful in the future. save.

Cecilia- depends, does she still have her funds from thievery? if no, spend. if yes, pretend to spend it by showing off things she already owns to throw people off her track, then save it. or spend if theres something mundane she wants.

Cynthia- doesnt really like having big sums of money lying around. spend it on villain work.

19. Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?

Caine- i mean. does going into a rabbit hole of tangentially relevant information a week before count? not for job interviews though. they couldnt care enough about that.

Cyrus- duh. hes the person somebody would go to if they need notes or extra tutoring.

Cecilia- no, but if she cared about tests enough shed be a top student, and she usually manages to fly by on job interviews because shes pretty charming.

Cynthia- yes, but for school its because the subjects are interesting to her, while the job interview is for general "i want to get the job" reasons.

questions from here!

[vaugarde]

i get the frustration with so many villains now getting treatment like “oh they had a sucky childhood so actually you need to feel bad for them and not hold them accountable for their actions” but the counter of “this person was born evil and cant ever grow and its pathetic to assume that they can, also people cant be redeemed no matter what and this is fantastic writing actually” is so exhausting. 

[horrorwebs]

i hate my best friend earlier i was like "im scared that this guy likes me bc he said something that i would only say to people who i like, but i recognize thats its a normal ass thing to say anyway and i rationally know he does not like me, but still, my brain decided to play with that concept and made me have a terrible nightmare the other night about it and now im subconsciously scared that he will like me ( with the underlying concept of "i am scared of men")" and shell go ohohioo what if youre projecting and its actually YOU that likes him. ????? bitch did you not hear the part about having a dream where he abused me or ...?sometimes being asexual is a nightmare nobody gets it

[zwiebelii]

Hhhnnnngghhhhhh having a fight with my boyfriend

[bpmiranda]

I can’t get the idea of Logan having ruts and going feral because of his mutation out of my head lol. Could you write a quick story about the reader having to experience that for the first time please? Thank you!

Let Me Help (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: 18+ f!reader, nonmutant!reader, feral!logan, mentions of breeding, oral f! receiving, rough sex

For about two days now, Logan had been avoiding you. You weren’t quite sure what it was that you could’ve done to upset him that much, but you felt insecure in yourself as the most attention he seemed to want to give you was a quick peck on the cheek before you both parted ways in the morning.

What Logan had not told you in the time you had started seeing each other was that due to his mutation, he often experienced the same behavioral changes as an animal. He couldn’t possibly bring himself to put you through this, however, not his sweet girl. But Logan didn’t count on you being so tenacious.

“Lo,” You murmur quietly from the hallways as you peer at him sitting in the living room where he’s smoking a cigar and drinking a beer when he should be in bed with you by now. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a kind smile. “Don’t you want to come to bed?” You ask, stepping out into the living room in the shortest pajama shorts you could find and a little matching camisole.

Logan inhaled sharply, the sight of you making him ache. His heart is beating fast and he feels the animal inside him urging to get out, to attack. “No,” He says curtly, turning away from you and closing his eyes, willing himself to hold his ground. Your bare feet pad slowly over to him and he wants to bolt for the door, but he also wants to slam you down on the couch and take you right there. “Sweetheart,” His tone is warning as you carefully move to sit down on his lap and straddle him.

“You haven’t touched me in two days,” You say sadly and his heart breaks. It wasn’t his intention to make you feel like he didn’t desire you, but he couldn’t trust himself to control himself with you while he was in this state. “Did I do something wrong?” You pout.

A small sigh escapes him and he set the cigar in the ashtray and his beer on the coffee table. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, sweet girl.” He said as he let himself rub on your thighs. His eyes fall over your chest, your nipples are softly showing through your thin tank top, he can smell your natural scent, it’s making him uneasy. “I just - mm - I’m working through something right now.”

“Can I help?” You ask brightly, hoping you’ve figured out how you can fix things between you and your man. Logan smiles and shakes his head while thinking, you’re the only one that could.

“I can’t ask you to help me with this, sweetheart.” He says, grunting softly as you move in his lap and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Logan?” You murmur, your hands running through his hair as he rubs on your ass. “Do you still find me attractive?” Your eyes are welling with tears and Logan knows he’s fucked up when he hears you sniff.

With a sigh, he pulls you back so that he can hold your teary face in his hands and he gives you a sympathetic look. “Of course I do, Y/N, you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen walk this Earth. I can’t get enough of you, sweet girl.” He says as he kisses your nose and you give him a weak smile. “I’m in a rut, baby.” He finally says and you give him a confused look, thinking you know what he means, but he shakes his head. “And not in a dull routine type of rut. It’s, well, more animal than that.”

“Oh,” You murmur, knowing now exactly what he’s talking about. Your teeth bite down on your bottom lip and you place your hands over his and slowly guide them down to your breasts. Logan’s breath hitches in his throat and he goes to move away only for you to hold him there. “Let me help you.”

Logan shakes his head sternly. “No.”

“You won’t hurt me.” You insist, slowly rolling your hips into him and he growls lowly, his hands gripping your breasts making you hum in pleasure. “Please, Logan, I miss you so much.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t control that side of me. I’ll hurt you and not even know it.” He argues, making you pout, and he sighs. “Be good for me, okay? Just stay out of my way for the next three or so days, no more of these little outfits either. I’ll be just fine. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Y/N nodded sadly, still not moving off his lap, but letting him take his hands off your chest. “Can I at least have a kiss?” You ask innocently enough for Logan to smile and nod. Your hands latch onto his neck as you lean in and kiss him softly, slowly while he caresses your back and thighs. The taste of the cigar he was smoking and the beer he was drinking makes your mind fuzzy and you only want more, you want to savor every bit of him. Logan can’t pull away, and you don’t make a move to separate yourself either. Your hips begin to move again and he groans your name in a warning tone. “Please,” You breathe desperately against his lips and his hold is so tight on your thighs you can feel the bruises forming already. “Yes, please.”

“Damn it,” He growls as he takes control of the kiss and lays you down on the couch, climbing over you quickly as he devours your neck, marking you immediately and making you whimper underneath his heavy frame. “I can’t stop once I start, Y/N. Are you sure?” He asks as he’s already tugging your shorts off roughly, the smell of your arousal making his thoughts center around one thing only, and you nod quickly, gasping as he pushes your thighs to your chest to dive face first into your cunt.

You’re holding tightly onto the back of the couch, one hand gripping on his hair as he’s groaning and lapping into your pussy. The sound is so filthy, so desperate, as if he had starved in those two days, and you knew how big his appetite usually was on a normal day. “Oh, my God, Logan!” You moan, your head rolling back as you feel your walls clench around his tongue as it’s burrowing into you, not slowing even as your release with a light squirt.

“You always taste so damn good, baby,” Logan groans, lapping at your hungrily, petting your clit with his thumb while he’s got your knees in one hand to keep your legs elevated and together. “Like a plum, so fucking delicious.” His words make you tremble with pleasure and he’s still playing with your cunt, making your vision blurry as the stimulus of pleasure does not cease. A small whine falls out of your lips and he makes you swallow it as he kisses you hungrily, his tongue pushing past your lips and bringing your own tongue into to his mouth. “C’mon, baby, wanna feel that little pussy wrapped around me.”

Logan carries you to the bedroom where you spend the next four hours trapped underneath him.

“L-Logan!” You scream as he’s plummeting roughly into you from behind. His hand is holding your head down into the pillows while the other one is spanking your ass between thrusts, groaning as he watches your ass jiggle from the force.

It’s your third orgasm, and it’s coming up fast, much faster than the first two. Your insides feel gummy and numb as his thick cock drives into your mercilessly, searching for the furthest depth at which he can fill you. “Fuck, you’ve got the prettiest ass.” He groans, suddenly stopping while he’s pressed right up to your cervix and he’s squeezing your ass making you cry. “It’s okay, baby.” He murmurs, pulling out to kiss your ass, bite it, spank it lightly and you can feel his cum that had been plugged inside you by his cock now running down your thighs. “That’s a damn sight right there.” He sighs and you feel a little embarrassed, mainly aroused at the way he’s contemplating your disheveled appearance. “Wouldn’t you love to be fucked full of my babies?” He asks sweetly as he fingers his cum back into your aching pussy.

“Logan, more, please.” You beg weakly, your voice hoarse from screaming and crying. Logan chuckles and he realigns his tip to your pulsing core which is already sucking him back in and he hisses at the feeling, the sight of you desperate for him.

“The things you do to me, sweetheart.” He growls as he continues his brutal pace from before and you close your eyes, hot tears slipping out of the corners as you feel him use you.

By now, your legs feel like jelly, they’re trembling something awful on his shoulders while he’s rubbing them tenderly, pounding into you roughly while cooing at you. Your eyes burn from the fresh hot tears flooding them and running down your cheeks, your cunt is overused and red from his incessant pace. “You’re such a helpful little thing, sweet girl,” Logan murmurs, leaning forward as he holds your knees against your chest to kiss you. You cry against his lips, your whole body shaking underneath this heavy weight as he’s rutting deeply and purposefully into you. “Look at you taking me so well, does it hurt?” He asks and you bravely shake your head, wanting him to use you. Logan groans, knows your lying, and he picks up the pace anyway, bearing his weight on your thighs as he lifts himself up slightly to jackhammer into your oversensitive pussy.

“Ah!” You sob, your mouth falling open as you take it, clutching tightly onto his thighs as he growls while spilling his seed inside you for the third time. “Ah,” You whimper as he pulls out of you. “More, please.”

Now you’re sitting in his lap, straddling him, and he’s telling you to take it slow while he’s fucking into you from below, unable to relinquish control. His hands are firmly holding you by the arms and he’s fucking you down into his cock, more tears spill from your eyes. Logan’s unbelievably aroused watching you cry and pout, your tits bouncing obscenely as he’s bouncing you like a doll. His little doll. “I love you so damn much, sweet girl.” He says, pinning you down on his lap so he can kiss you, tasting your salty tears and smiling as you kiss him back weakly, a meek cry coming from your throat. “You love me, baby?” You nod, leaning back in to kiss him again and you make out gently as you continue bouncing on him. “Goddamnit!” He growls, letting go of your arms so he can wrap his arms around your waist as he holds you against him and fucks his last load deep into you. Your head falls weakly on his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his neck, your pussy contracting around his throbbing cock as he spurts his cum on your walls.

A soft sob leaves your lips as he finally stills inside you and every ache and bruise consumes your body, but you love it. “You feel better?” You ask in such a soft whisper that tugs on his heartstrings.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I feel better.” He murmurs against your shoulder, kissing your neck softly as he can feel you growing heavy in his arms.

“I helped?”

Logan chuckles, scratching your scalp lightly as he kisses your cheek. “Yes, sweet girl, you helped.”

🤧😓🫠

[sunarc]

Geto’s tired of listening to you fail to get yourself off. It's another late night of your touching yourself but seemingly unable to bring yourself to an orgasm. He doesn’t think he can go another night listening to the frustrated sighs probably because your fingers don’t reach the spot you’re desperately craving them to touch. If you need help why don’t you just ask. He’s more than willing to give you what you need. 

He sat leaning against the wall listening to your whimpers. His hand moves in slow motions pumping himself to your voice. 

“Just let go baby it’s so easy” he whispers eyes closed listening to your harsh sighs.

His hand squeezes the base of his cock while his head lulls back. He knows you need him. He can have you cumming in seconds. His mind is running a mile per minute with thoughts of how pretty you probably look with your legs spread stretching yourself out with your fingers. His thoughts run rampant but they are cut short by a frustrated groan coming through the walls. Something takes over Geto because before he realizes his actions his knuckles knock softly against the wall. He hears you shuffling before you whisper softly.

“Yes?”

“Do you… need help?” he’s not sure what has possessed him. This can go one of two ways and he’s praying it goes how he's imagining it. 

You’re silent for a minutes presumably contemplating his question. The silence feels like it's clawing at his brain. He almost wants to take back what he said but it’s far too late for that. 

“I-” he’s cut off by your voice

“Yes” you whimper.

Geto’s heart feels like it might jump out of his chest. Did he hear that right? He scrambles to his feet realizing that he now has to act on his words. His feet carry him to your room and it feels like he might be floating. When he opens the door there you are spread out just as he imagined with a pout on your face. 

“Please help” you whimper. 

Geto is by your side within seconds eyeing the way slick drools down your cunt. “Fuck you look so good” he breathes. 

He moves your hand gently and replaces it with his own. His fingers feel so much better than your own. He reaches spots you can only dream of reaching. 

Geto’s eyes watch the way you arch into him feeling the way his fingers glide against your walls. A small smirk appears on his face as he watches you close your eyes feeling pure bliss. 

“Yeah? Does that feel good princess?” his voice is soft whispering the sweet words to you. 

You nod your head too focused on chasing after your orgasm to reply with words. 

“Look at you. You needed me didn’t you? Look at how your falling apart for my fingers. Wait until you get my cock baby.” He leans into you pressing kisses against your neck. His arm holds your body close to his while his fingers massage your core send sparks of pleasure through your body. 

“Come for me pretty, Let me see you make a mess” he groans in your ear. 

You body jolts from the orgasm. Your hands grip onto Geto shaking from the orgasm you were chasing. 

“That’s it, just like that, so good for me” he kisses your shaking form. 

You don't have enough time to come down from your before Geto is flipping you over and push you down into an arch. 

“Let me get a taste before I fuck you to sleep princess”

His hands spread your ass cheeks so he can see your slick cover cunt. His tongue glides between your folds. He licks and flicks your clit while his hand massages the fat of your ass. 

“Taste so good baby” he breathes 

His groans sound heavenly as he licks between your folds as i you’re his favorite meal. He’s in a land of pure bliss tasting you. He hums as his tongue dips in and out of your hole messily eating you. Geto has never felt himself losing control in this way. There’s something about you. Something that possesses him. He wants you, needs you in the most lewd way. Thoughts of you cumming on his cock plague his mind. His heart is beating in his chest harder than ever. This doesn’t even feel real. To have you in this way spread out with your ass in the air all for him has his cock achingly hard. 

“You ready for me Princess?” he groans pulling back taking a deep breath. Your slick pools down his chin. 

You nod your head desperately while your hand grip the sheet eager to feel him at your entrance. Geto places the tip of his cock at your entrance treasuring the way you whine for him to put it in. He loves how desperate you are for him. He lovees that you crave him the same way he crave you. 

“I’m gonna take my time with this” he whispers. 

His hand massages your hip as he inches his cock deep into you. He’s big and no amount of finger could have prepared you for him. You burn with pleasure feeling his cock stretch you out. 

“‘ S-so big” you whine.

Once he bottoms out he holds that position. He bites his lip while his fingers hold onto your hips.

“Fuck- you don’t understand how long I’ve wanted to do this” he lets out a heavy sigh as he closes his eyes. His pace start off slow. He wants you to feel every inch of his sliding inside of you. 

“You’re taking me so well baby” his voice soothes you as he fucks you. His thrusts are slow and long.

You look so pretty like this. Your back is arched, hands stretched outward taking all that he has to give you. Geto’s soaking in the moment. His heart feels like it might burst out of his chest. He finally has you and he’s taking advantage of every second. Your moans bounce off the walls echoing through the room. Your so loud taking his cock no wonder he could hear you through the walls fucking yourself. 

“This is what you needed isn’t it” he groans “You needed me, needed my cock. It’s okay I’m here now princess. All you have to worry about now is making a mess on my cock.”His thrust are filled with passion.   

His hands part your ass cheeks so he can get a view how how your cunt swallows his cock. 

“Look at how much this pussy loves me” he moans eyes low staring at where the two of you connect.       

He throws his head back groaning at the way you clench around him. 

“Fuck its so tight and warm” he can’t control himself. 

His picks up speed thrusting into you wildly chasing after an orgasm. 

“I need you so bad, Please fuck- please cum for me” he’s never known himself to lose control like this. 

His moans turn into whimpers as he continues fucking into you softly holding you. He can feel you’re close. Your face presses into the pillow muffling your moans. 

“Come on baby, Let me hear those pretty moans, don't hide them from me”his thrust are constant. 

He leans down to press kisses up your spine to your shoulder. His thrust are slow but they leave yo0u shaking on the brink of your orgasm. 

“Cum for me princess, I know how bad you need it” His voice is like silk whispering the words to you. 

His words send you over the edge. You completely lose yourself cumming around his cock. 

“That’s it, you're so good for me” he chuckles with a shaky voice. 

His thrust do not stop. He lets out a deep sigh before sitting up to fuck you faster. Your hand moves to push against his hips whining about how it’s too much. He chuckles and intertwines his fingers into yours. 

“Too much? We’re just getting started princess” a sly smirk grows across his face.

“I told you I was going to take my time. Let’s see how many times I can get you to cum tonight”