#also to everyone whos left a nice comment on or added nice tags on their rbs of my posts: i love u thank u ;o; < 3

[astrophileous]

Love Bugs (Pt. 06)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): cursing--there's a lot of it--like a lot, psychopathic behaviors, being held captive, verbal and physical violence, degrading nicknames, talks of death and unaliving someone, strangulation, PLS READ WITH CAUTION BECAUSE THIS PART IS REALLY GRIM I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING

Word Count: 4200-ish

Tag(s): I'm tagging everyone who requested to be tagged prior to the long hiatus, pls tell me if you'd like to NOT be included in the tag list for future updates, thanks! @marvelousgoldroses @jay-2s-world @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @cat-or-kitten @littleshadow17 @itzz-me-duh @geeksareunique @paisleebubbles @whateverrrrrrrrs @crazyunsexycool @louderfortheback @wifeyofeveryone

Author's Note: HI EVERYONE HOW ARE YOU?? I know this is long overdue, but pls enjoy the new part of love bugs! I'm so happy to be posting again and I hope you like what I've got in plans for this series. I think we only have one or maybe two chapters left for this story (depending whether I want to write an epilogue or not lol) but in the meantime, pls enjoy this part and don't forget to LIKE+REBLOG+COMMENT !!! thank you 🌹

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

The bullpen of FBI headquarters was still reeling in the aftermath of a Derek-Morgan-shaped hurricane.

Emily was just about to enter the vicinity again when she heard the tail end of Derek's furious words, right before Hotch had ordered him to retreat.

"What was that about?" Emily asked as she approached Rossi's side, eyes never straying from the two men who soon disappeared into Hotch's office.

Rossi never addressed Emily's question. Instead, he gestured for her--and everybody else in the room--to be quiet with a finger on his lips, before he pressed the unmute button on the telephone.

"Hello?"

The UnSub's head jerked at Rossi's unfamiliar voice. You were barely successful in getting him to calm down following Derek's unexpected outburst, but the sound of Rossi's voice was threatening to throw all of those poor attempts straight out of the window.

"Who is that?" he demanded warily. "Where's Agent Hotchner?"

"He had to step away for a second," Rossi notified. "I'm SSA David Rossi. I also work with Agent Hotchner and Agent (Y/L/N)."

"I know who you are."

"Yeah? I still don't know who you are, though."

A responding groan vibrated from the other line. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do you think I'm fucking dumb?"*

"No one thinks anything here, pal. Just wanted to know who I was speaking to, that's all." At the UnSub's clear signs of agitation, Rossi quickly added, "It'd be nice to know the person who clearly means a lot to (Y/N)."

Rossi's reassurance obviously managed to trigger the intended effect it had sought. Everyone could see how the UnSub physically deflated at Rossi's words, meaning that hopefully he was soon going to let his guard down.

"I can't tell you who I am," your assailant said, still adamant, although his resolve was wearing thin with each word he had stated. "You're just gonna use it to track me down and keep us apart."

The last syllable of his sentence was emphasized by the weight of his dagger on the side of your neck. You instinctively winced at the unwelcomed touch of the blade before schooling your expression once more so your captor wouldn't notice.

"I promise you, no one is going to do that," Rossi said.

"He's telling the truth," you decided to chime in, surprising everyone including the UnSub whose grip of the dagger had teetered dangerously closer to your pulse point at the sudden proclamation. "They are good people. They don't break promises or tell lies. I promise you, nothing will come between us."

The silence that fell next was heavy with the UnSub's hesitation. Bracing yourself, you forced your head to tilt back, locking eyes with him who was still standing like a guard dog right behind you.

"I swear, Darling," you vowed.

The lull in your voice--or perhaps the fact that you had called him darling in front of your team, which he could arguably take as a display of affection--must have stirred up something in his twisted mind. He actually preened at you before his eyes went right back towards the direction of the camera on the wall.

"My name is Arthur," he confessed.

A particular thread of memory in your brain immediately lit up.

Back in the bullpen, JJ and Spencer were finally returning with documents containing your phone records that they had promptly asked Kevin to gather. Spencer didn't waste any time before perching himself on his desk to start rummaging through the thick pile of files.

"Arthur?" Rossi repeated the name, eyes flicking over to Garcia with a silent request to start cross-referencing the name with the other names they had acquired so far in the investigation.

The tech analyst didn't need to be told twice. She began typing furiously on her laptop as Rossi's attention was drawn back towards the projector.

The UnSub hadn't moved an inch. His hand was still just as sturdy on your shoulder. The blade was also still just as cold as it pressed onto your skin.

One wrong move, and you would end up no better than a slaughter animal on the cold hard ground.

"Do you have a last name, Arthur?" Rossi asked.

The entire bullpen held their breath in anticipation. Rossi had planted the bait as strategically as he could. It was up to the UnSub to take it and slip up the one information that would give them a major lead to end this case once and for all.

But before the UnSub could respond, a muffled beeping resonated in the air, through the telephone line, and finally into the bullpen. The sound was enough to make your assailant faltered.

"I have to go."

It was the last thing he uttered before the line, along with the livestream, went completely dead.

The atmosphere was laden with restlessness as everyone tried to make peace with the fact that they had just lost the only mean of communication they had with you. Without the feed from the livestream, no one could possibly know what was going on. The team would have no idea if something were to happen to you.

They would have no idea how to determine whether you were alive or dead.

"Did you find anything yet, Garcia?" Rossi questioned, although in all honestly, it sounded more like a desperate plea.

The thick regret behind Garcia's eyes gave Rossi the answer he needed to know.

"I can't find any Arthur in our files, sir," Garcia informed.

"Anything from her phone records? What about the hospital?" Rossi tried again.

Emily shook her head almost remorsefully.

"Nothing yet," Spencer spoke up from his place on the desk. "Not a single thing stands out from her records."

"What now?" JJ sighed, exhaustion and worry beginning to decorate the lines on her face.

The whole bullpen stood still, as if everyone was waiting for a slice of miracle to descend into the room, holding a map that would eventually lead the team to where you were still being held captive. But such a map didn't exist in this piece of reality, and the BAU knew that they were running out of time.

"Garcia, did you record the livestream by any chance?" Spencer asked at last.

"Yeah, of course I did."

Penelope punched a few keys on her keyboard before the projector once again came alive with the footage from the livestream.

"Can you fast forward to the very end?" Spencer requested. "And then play it again backwards to the beginning."

"What are you thinking, Spence?" JJ wondered.

"I don't know. I just... maybe there's a detail we missed. At this point, even the smallest piece of clue is worth pursuing."

Several pair of eyes glued themselves on the screen as the livestream footage ran backward at a faster speed. Bated breaths waited in tension for just the tiniest hint that the team could scour to determine your location.

"Wait. What was that?" Spencer interjected. "Garcia, play that again."

"What? What is it?" Emily spoke up.

"Look at her hand." Spencer stood up from the desk, approaching the screen to get a better look. "She's knocking against the chair. Garcia, zoom in on her hand. The left one."

Penelope did as she was asked. "Is that--"

"It's morse code," Rossi muttered, realization overtaking his countenance.

"What is she saying?" JJ questioned.

"A-U--" Spencer began spelling out loud, "--T... Auto. She's spelling auto."

"Auto?" JJ's forehead creased. "As in... auto shop?"

"Her records said she went to a mechanic a week ago," Spencer recalled. JJ immediately rummaged through the papers on Spencer's desk, but the pages flipping inside of Spencer's mind moved at a thousand times more speed than any normal pair of eyes ever could. "Dinozzo's Auto Service, 894 Southwell Street."

"Got it," Penelope chimed in from her place in front of the laptop. "Dinozzo's Auto Shop. Originally owned by Carlo Dinozzo before it was passed down to his two sons after his death a year ago."

"Any of them named Arthur?" Rossi asked

"Nope. Luca and Piero."

"What about the employees?" Emily suggested.

"No. I'm not seeing any Arthur anywhere near that place."

"We profiled that the UnSub could be holding down a steady job in his everyday life," JJ said. "He might not even be related to that place. Maybe (Y/N) encountered him there by chance?"

"Nah, I doubt it." Rossi shook his head. "The bastard's too sophisticated to leave anything up to chance like that. He must have found a way to orchestrate it one way or another."

"There must be a connection somewhere, then. No way he just chose a random place off the map," Emily muttered. "We should cross-reference the name to anyone associated with the Dinozzos."

Penelope began to frantically type something into her laptop. "We've still got three names here. Oh, never mind. Two names, 'cause one of them is dead."

"What do we have on them?" Spencer asked.

"First is Arthur Doyle. He went to high school with Luca and Piero Dinozzo, works in a local company, and looks like he travels a lot for his job," Penelope explained. "There's also an Arthur Harrison, works as an accountant in the heart of Arlington. His dad and Carlo Dinozzo were long-time pals. Apparently, his dad was an accountant too and used to handle the shop's finances before Arthur inherited the office. Oh."

"What? What'd you find?"

"Arthur was engaged," Penelope murmured, "to a Claire Dumont. They were gonna get married last year but the wedding was called off just one month before the D-day."

"Where's Claire now?" JJ asked.

"She moved to Ohio shortly after the breakup, and... oh my God. Guess what?" Penelope looked up, her eyes widening almost comically. "She just announced her engagement three months ago."

Spencer hummed. "That could be the stressor."

An image of a woman suddenly appeared on screen, right above the paused footage of your hand. Everyone stared at the picture in shock.

"That's Claire Dumont," Penelope murmured.

JJ held her breath. "She and (Y/N) could be sisters."

"We've found our guy," Rossi declared. "Garcia, pull up every known address associated with this man. And hurry, we don't have much time."

"I have three properties so far connected to Arthur Harrison. Sending the addresses to all of your phones."

As JJ, Spencer, and Rossi rushed to exit the bullpen, Emily turned around and called out to the others, "I'm grabbing Morgan and Hotch!"

Without stopping to knock, Emily pushed open the door to Hotch's office, ignoring the slivers of tension dancing around in the air.

"We may have something," Emily announced to the room. "We think we know where (Y/N) is."

Your assailant--Arthur, as it turned out--pulled his phone out and pressed a few buttons in, silencing the beeping. Once the noise was gone, the room was quiet again.

He looked at you, then. Piercingly. You squirmed underneath his scrutiny.

"Wait here," he eventually said. "I'll be back."

Without taking a second to breathe, Arthur flew past you and towards the direction he had appeared from earlier.

"Wait! Wait. Where are you going?"

The sound of steps ceased on top of concrete. You waited with bated breath for his response. But the only sound ever came was that of the metal door, and as quickly as you could count to three, he was gone.

At last, you were alone once more.

The traces of adrenaline had begun to dissipate out of your system, leaving you in a shivering mess inside that damp concrete room. Once again, you attempted with all of your might to free yourself from the state of confinement you were in. But the metal cuffs binding you to the chair only dug further into your skin the more you tried to escape, while the chair itself stayed nailed in place no matter how hard you tried to rock it.

After a few more minutes of futile attempts, you were forced to face the reality of your situation.

You were never going to get yourself out of that dingy place alone.

Huffing a breath, you knew that there was nothing more you could do except to hope that your team found the hidden message you had left for them to solve.

And with that last thought conquering every room your head, you let yourself succumb to the impending darkness.

You woke up gasping for air.

It took you a few seconds to remember where you were, to remember that you weren't back in the comfort of your apartment and instead, you were still holed up in the darkened cold room where your abductor had been keeping you captive.

It took a few seconds more to realize that the drowning dream you just had might have been a tad bit more real than you initially thought.

Still reeling in shock, you peered up and locked eyes with your abductor, eyes barely registering the empty bucket he was holding in one of his hands. It didn't take a genius to conclude that he was the one responsible for your drenched state.

"W-what?" you stuttered meekly. "What's going on?"

He only stared at you in response.

"Arthur?"

You shrieked loudly when Arthur threw the empty bucket against the wall, sending a resounding "bang" throughout the whole room and breaking the plastic object into two misshaped pieces.

"Arthur--" you gasped, searching for your voice that seemed to have disappeared beneath the layers of brewing fear, "--w-what... what are you... what's going on? Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you, you fucking bitch."

The beating inside your chest fastened. Before you could ask yet another question, Arthur had lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so you could stare directly into his eyes.

"You're a fucking liar," he seethed. "You lied to me. Everything you said was a lie, wasn't it?!"

"I don't--" you hissed, trying to ignore the biting pain in your scalp, "--I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Stop fucking lying!!!"

A sharp smack reverberated in the air.

It was only when the ringing in your ear grew louder did you realize that Arthur had slapped your cheek.

Hard.

Ignoring the tingling on the side of your face, you lifted your head once more. The room was spinning, tilting your balance left and right, but you held your ground through it all.

"What did I lie to you about, Arthur?" you asked carefully.

He threw something at your feet. It clanged against the hard ground below before landing face up near your toes.

It was your phone.

But the fact that Arthur somehow had your phone in his possession wasn't what caused the sick feeling to stir northward in your belly.

It was what you were seeing on the now cracked screen of your phone: a picture of you and Derek. A selfie that you had impulsively taken of the two of you in bed after one of your nighttime escapades.

For awhile there, you had briefly forgotten about that photo. It was another lost memory in the ocean of rubble left behind in the wake of your fallout with Derek. Seeing that photo again after such a long time triggered waves of emotions that you had been desperately burying for the past few weeks.

The longing, the guilt, the heartache.

The regrets.

The regret of ending your little arrangement so abruptly in such a hostile manner. The regret of not telling Derek sooner about the baby. The regret of maybe never being able to see Derek for one last time.

But most importantly, it was the regret over not revealing the truth of what your heart felt for him that was eating you alive.

"You're fucking him," Arthur fumed, eyes blazing with an indescribable fury that made your entire body shudder.

"Arthur, please... I can explain--"

"Shut the fuck up."

He stepped forward once more, crowding your personal place and rendering you helpless underneath his psychopathic gaze.

"Tell me the truth, and if you dare lie--" Arthur paused, his hand disappearing behind his back before it appeared again with a dagger that he promptly pressed against your abdomen, "--don't ever dream of meeting your child."

"Okay. Okay, I'll tell you the truth."

"You're fucking him, aren't you?"

The bile in your throat had tripled in size. Swallowing it down, you tried to even your voice out as you answered, "I was."

"Ha," he scoffed. "I knew it. You fucking whore. You're no better than any of them."

To your relief, he eventually chose to retract the dagger and stepped away from you, opting to circle the room like a distressed lion in a cage. But even with the blade no longer touching your skin, you knew very well that the danger wasn't over yet and that things could escalate even further in a matter of seconds if you weren't careful.

"Arthur," you called out to him softly, slowly, as to not startle him and risk doing something that would trigger a psychotic break. "Arthur, please. You have to listen to me. That arrangement ended long ago. It meant nothing to me. It happened long before I met you."

Arthur's voice echoed coldly as he replied, "I don't believe you."

"Please, Arthur--"

"That's his child, isn't it?" he cut you off, pointing the tip of the dagger at your belly. "What he said on the phone. He said my child. That's because it's his. You're having Derek Morgan's child."

"No--"

"I thought you were different. I thought you were the one." The dagger in his hand shook with venom. "But you're just the same as the rest of them."

"I'm not. Please, I'm not--"

"I have to start searching again. For the one. You're not her, which means she's still out there."

"Arthur--"

"I'll have to get rid of you."

"Arthur, please!" Your voice cracked, leaking of terror and desperation larger than anything you had ever known. When something wet touched the side of your nose, you realized then that you had started to cry. "Arthur, you have to believe me. I've ended everything with him. There's nothing between us anymore."

The words you uttered kept lingering in the air in a bubble made out of despair. But as if every single one of them had fallen on deaf ears, your captor paid no attention to them. Not even a single acknowledgment to your pleas.

Instead, he had begun taking careful steps forward. Silent and deadly, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Arthur, please! I choose you!"

To your shock, his steps faltered upon your words.

For a moment, you could taste relief on the tip of your tongue before it was washed away by the knowledge that you were not entirely out of the woods yet. But from the corner of your eye, you could see the slight loosening of Arthur's grip around the dagger. It filled you with enough hope to push forward.

"I'm choosing you, Arthur," you stated confidently, trying to convince him of your sincerity. "I don't care about Derek. I'm done with him. I'm done with my old life and everyone in it. I'm ready to leave everything behind to be with you. I choose you."

"You choose me?"

"Yes. I choose you to take care of me. To take care of this baby. The three of us can be a family. How does that sound?"

Seconds ticked into minutes. Minutes stretched into a long silence. The anticipation threatened to break your chest in half.

When he finally began to move once more, Arthur surprised you. He threw the dragger towards a darkened corner in the room, far away from his reach and, most importantly, far away from the possibility of it harming the growing life inside of you.

When Arthur took off the ski mask he had been wearing since the first time you opened your eyes in that harrowing place, you weren't at all surprised to see the face staring back at you. After all, it was the same face belonging to the man who had stopped his car for you when your own car had mysteriously broken down in the middle of the road just around two weeks prior. The same face who offered a business card of his friend's auto shop where you eventually went to get your vehicle fixed.

In retrospect, you should have been at least a little bit suspicious by the whole ordeal, but was it really your fault for choosing to put your trust in the good of humanity?

You knew there was no point in dwelling over what-ifs anymore. Arthur would've found a way, like any psychopath would, and you would've still ended up being tied up in this dismal room with him.

"Did you mean it?" Arthur asked.

You put on your best fake smile before answering, "Yes."

He grabbed you in his arms in just two long strides.

You wanted to throw up. You hated the feeling of his fingers stroking your back. You wanted to kick him away and get this piece of shit as far away from you and your baby as possible. You wanted to rid yourself of the lingering smell of him that had now undoubtedly transferred into your skin.

And maybe, you would've done all of those things if it was only your life that was on the line.

Unfortunately, fighting back was a luxury you couldn't afford anymore. So, you were forced to stay quiet instead, letting your captor whisper sweet nothings in your ear as if it didn't repulse you even being in the same room as him.

You were close to counting towards the 200s in your head when, suddenly, a clanking noise in the distance ripped your attention away.

In a split second, Arthur had peeled his arms from around you and got back on his feet. You knew then that he must have heard it, too.

You watched as he stepped away, dragging a crate from one corner of the room and placing it strategically underneath the only opening on the walls. He got on top of the crate to allow himself to peek outside, but whatever he saw must have startled him greatly. Because the next thing you knew, he had backed away from the wall in the blink of an eye, face crumpling in what could only be described as panic.

"The cops are here," he managed to sputter out.

"What?"

Your heart was hammering inside of its cage. The cops are here. You realized then that the team must have solved the clue you left them. They had solved the case, and they were coming to save you.

Derek was coming to save you.

"What did you do?!"

In a moment of weakness, you had allowed yourself to rejoice in the promise of freedom that you momentarily forgot you actually hadn't possessed it yet. The slip-up was miniscule, but it wasn't fleeting enough to escape the attention of your captor.

"You tricked me!" Arthur's voice boomed throughout the room, carrying rage unlike anything you had ever known. "I trusted you, and you lied to me! Again."

"Arthur--"

This time, there was no room for negotiation.

Arthur didn't even waste a millisecond before he dove forward. He was a lion, and you were the deer. His sharp teeth were calloused fingers, and they dug into your skin as Arthur tightened his grip around your throat.

"You lied to me. You lied to me."

He repeated those words like a mantra, his voice drowned out by desperate gasps as you tried to scour for what little bit of air you could still revel in. Your feet and arms shook beneath their restrains. Your head pounded from the pressure that had gathered inside your skull.

In that moment, death was imminent.

You could feel it coming. You could feel its claws clutching every single drop of life that was still remaining in your bloodstream. It was a battle between the two, and unfortunately, death was winning.

As the dark spots in your vision spread into a massive blotch, you allowed yourself to say goodbye. To life. To the world. To the memories of your loved ones whose faces you wished you could've memorized one last time.

To Derek, the one who could've been, the one you wished had been.

And to the child in your womb, the one you wished you could've met, the one you wished you could've saved.

When darkness came, you expected it to be cold and unforgiving, but as it turned out, darkness was easy. Simple. It welcomed you into its home with open arms, shielding you from the cruelties of the mundane world.

As it pulled you deeper into its abode, you could faintly hear the sound of your name being called repeatedly. It sounded similar. It sounded like home.

But this was your home now, so without turning back, you allowed darkness to lead you further down the dim path. Away from the pain and the heartbreaks of life. Far from the evil that lurked in the streets behind their well-crafted masks.

In the darkness, there was nothing.

In the darkness, you were nothing.

And nothing was exactly what you were going to be.

[rorywritesjunk]

No longer locked upon the land but free on the rolling waves

You and Buggy come face to face with himself from the past, and while you’re fully accepting that this is your husband as a child, Buggy doesn’t want to accept it.

Rating: PG-13ish, but just due to some swearing.

Warning: Upset kid, upset husband. Reader is way too nice, doesn’t necessarily take husband’s feelings into account as well. This chapter had one of my favorite moments between the Reader and Kid Buggy which was mentioned in the request, and it was a part I wanted to make sure I got just right.

A/N: A combined request. I did a few versions of this story before feeling like it hit the marks I was wanting to hit. Also, I’m just trying to vibe off what I’ve seen of Kid Buggy. I’m no expert. I’d protect that kid with my life. He’s so adorable. I also like the trope of “Meeting your self from another time” and “gets turned back into kid-self”. This is the former, and I know shit about time travel but I just kind of made something up. Also, kelpies. Are they in One Piece? I honestly don’t know but I love kelpies and needed an excuse to mention them. Additional notes: Holy cow, thank you to everyone who's been reading this! I read every comment and tag and it warms my heart so much. I meant for this to be multi-chapter from the start, but I want to give a heads up that this is a short fic, probably no more than 5 chapters but I'm almost thinking of writing more on Buggy and his wife because I've liked what I started with them and have already been thinking of their story. Title comes from "Sailing Song" by S.J. Tucker.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6/Epilogue TAGLIST (just let me know if you want to be added!): @lostfirefly @misadventures0fdes @sylum @valen-yamyam16 @dohkyu @fluffybunnyu @skyofsteel @lavalampskyy

Chapter 3

Everything was going great after breakfast for a little bit. The kid was fine to follow you around to help you with your own chores, which right now was collecting anything that needed mending or washing. You had Buggy carry the basket of mending while you made your way across the deck and to the kitchen. The crew was out on deck, and while word got around of some kind of shape shifter on board (your husband was still not happy about your guest), this was the first time most of them were seeing their captain as a child. The kid ignored the staring as long as he could, but you could see it was getting to him.

The final straw was when you watched a crewman lean over to another, hearing him whisper, “He even has the big nose.”

You both heard it because no sooner did he finish his sentence that Buggy dropped the basket he was carrying and rushed over to the crewman, delivering a kick to his crotch. The crewman fell to the ground in pain and you managed to grab Buggy before he could kick him in the face, though a part of you wanted to allow it to happen.

“Don’t talk about my nose!” He shrieked, fighting against you as you hauled him away to the kitchen. You passed the captain on the way, giving him a look as you pulled the kid along. Your husband stood there, confused for a moment before turning to see the crewman on the ground. What just happened?

You sat Buggy down on a chair and knelt in front of him. It was a little surprising to see him crying. You expected more anger, shouting, maybe some punches being thrown. You shouldn’t have been surprised, though. He was a kid with kid emotions. Big fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he clenched his fists. He rubbed his eyes, sniffling loudly.

“I th-thought I was the captain.” He choked out; you reached for one of the napkins left on the table from breakfast and put your hand on his cheek as you gently wiped the tears away. “Why would th-they talk about my nose?”

Your heart broke from that question. As an adult, your husband was still sensitive about his nose, had been since you first met him, but you couldn’t imagine going through childhood with those insecurities. And the fact you explained earlier that he became the captain of this ship just to have someone on the crew mention it so cruelly? It was horrible. 

“Because some of them are idiots.” You told him as you draped the napkin over your shoulder. “And I’ll throw them overboard once I make sure you’re okay. Now, do you want a hug?”

To your surprise he nodded, so you opened your arms and he fell into them, letting his head rest on your shoulder. You sat back on the floor, stretching your legs out in front of you as you held him on your lap, rubbing his back slowly as he still sniffled. 

“So… did I miss something?”

You looked back toward the door and sighed when you saw your husband standing there. Kid Buggy ignored him, sniffling as fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. You tightened your hold on the kid as you turned your attention back to him.

“One of your crewmen should be thrown overboard, Captain.” You told him, voice calm as you reached up to remove Kid Buggy’s hat so you could stroke his hair. He closed his eyes when you did that, relaxing in your embrace. You knew your husband liked having his hair stroked when he was upset, and you were pleased the kid was no different. “They need to learn when to keep their mouths shut.”

“Huhh…” Adult Buggy scratched the back of his head as he watched the scene in front of him. It was… weird but nice to see you comforting the kid like that. He didn’t remember ever really having that growing up. You were holding the kid so lovingly, not caring that your shirt was getting covered in tears and snot from him being so upset. 

“I’m sorry that idiot talked about your nose, sweetie.” You murmured to the kid in your arms, hugging him tighter. “It wasn’t right of him to do that.” 

Buggy stood there for another few minutes, watching you with him. You even gave the kid a forehead kiss, which the kid seemed fine with. He looked like he felt safe in your arms, and Buggy would know, having been there himself many times when he needed to feel safe and loved. It was just frustrating that he had to wait until meeting you to feel that way, having not ever really had that as a kid on a ship. Yet here you were, by chance now holding his kid self in your arms and comforting him when he was upset. Others would have just laughed about it, telling him to get over it, but you were apologetic to him and it wasn’t your fault it happened.

“Which one?” Adult Buggy asked; you looked up at him. “Which one said it?”

“The one that was on the ground, crying.” You replied as you rubbed Kid Buggy’s back gently. “Throw him overboard.”

Oh, he wouldn’t refuse a request like that from you. He stormed out of the kitchen, and as you tilted the kid’s face up, looking for more tears, you both heard a scream and a splash. You smiled and put your hand on his cheek, thumb stroking gently. You didn’t hear the captain return, but he remained quiet, watching from the doorway.

“No one else is going to say anything like that to you again on this ship, sweetie.” You assured him. “You’re safe with me, okay? I’ll hurt anyone who is mean to you, promise.”

“Okay…” Kid Buggy let his head drop back on your shoulder, sighing as he relaxed. You smiled and hugged him.

“Listen, I think your nose is cute.” You told him; he made a face and glanced up at you. “When I met my husband, it was the first thing I noticed about him and when I told him he was handsome he turned as red as his nose. I thought it was sweet, and to this day I still think it’s endearing.” You giggled at the face the kid was giving you. “What? I swear. I sometimes compliment him just to see how red he’ll get. It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

“You’re so evil.” Your husband grumbled, startling the two of you.  Grinning, you turned to look at him, only to laugh when you saw him glaring at you so you just blew a kiss at him. “Are you saying you only love me for my nose?”

“One of the reasons.” You chuckled. “I also love how passionate you are, and how much you love me. Though your impulsiveness still catches me off guard sometimes, I can appreciate it.”

“I’m not impulsive!”

“You threw Buggy off the ship into the water just yesterday.” You reminded him. To your delight, your husband began to turn red in the face. “But you also stole me flowers a week ago because you saw me wearing a pink dress and you liked how they matched.”

“I’m about to throw you overboard.” He grumbled, crossing his arms as he looked away, his face burning. You knew there was no threat to be had, he just said those things when he was feeling a little too much love from you. Buggy sighed heavily, shoulders dropping. Maybe he would regret offering this, but he was starting to feel a little better about this whole ordeal. “Kid, do you want a proper tour of the ship? I’m pretty sure you’re not a kelpie or anything else, so I think it’s safe for you to see everything.”

Kid Buggy made a face. He had already been around the ship with you, but you nudged him gently. This was at least a start. You wanted the kid to see what he grew up to become. “It’s okay, I think it’ll be fun for the two of you.”

“Can you come with me?” He asked you, clearly not wanting to be too far from you. It was sometimes difficult to think of a child as young as him being on a ship. You just wanted to hold him in your arms forever and protect him from anything that would hurt him, but that wasn’t realistic. Swallowing heavily, you nodded and he stood up from your lap, crossing his arms as he looked at the captain. “Promise you won’t throw me overboard?”

“Don’t give me a reason to.” Adult Buggy shot back, but you gave him that look and he immediately backtracked. “But I’ll fish you out if I accidentally knock you into the water.”

The kid seemed okay with that answer. You got to your feet and smoothed out Kid Buggy’s hair, it was a little smooshed from being against your shoulder. You handed him his hat back next, but when he didn’t take it you put it on his head for him. He made a face when you did that, and all you could do was giggle. You had seen that glare so much recently that you could only find it silly at this point.

The Captain rolled his eyes and started out of the kitchen while Kid Buggy took your hand and followed after him. You let him lead you, and once you caught up to your husband you linked arms with him, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He looked away when you did that, mumbling something about needing to uphold an image around the crew. You weren’t really sure what that image was but you didn’t say anything. Once you got to the helm of the ship, the captain pulled away from you and in a dramatic and flashy fashion, spun around and threw his arms open, gesturing wildly to the kid.

“THIS! Is my ship!” He announced to Kid Buggy. “We are the Buggy Pirates, the fiercest and most dangerous crew on the East Blue! No one survives a meeting with us!”

You watched the entire interaction in amusement. The kid was getting into it, mouth running a million miles a minute as he asked Buggy question after question about everything. How long has he been a captain? What was it like being so feared? Was he going to become the next King of the Pirates, for real? 

It was cute and you trailed after them as Buggy led him down below to where some ammo was stored. The Buggy Balls concerned you a little bit, you didn’t want them to fire one off into the town on purpose or accident, and thankfully your husband did not offer a demonstration (though you thought you heard him say something along the lines of “we’ll fire one after the wife’s asleep”) of their destructive power. 

And your husband was eating up the attention from the kid. Adult Buggy was proud to talk about his accomplishments, flashy battles, everything and Kid Buggy was listening with fascination, occasionally looking at you for confirmation that he was being told the truth, and you’d just nod in agreement with whatever your husband was saying.

Once the three of you returned to the deck, Kid Buggy’s attention went to the Jolly Roger on the ship, looking at it in awe. It had a nose like his and people were scared when they saw that flag. That was so cool. With the brief distraction, you gave your husband a kiss on the cheek. 

“I love you, Buggy.” You said, smiling at him as he put his arm around you and tugged you closer. You were happy that the two seemed to be on even footing now. The kid was sassy, of course, but at least your husband didn’t even attempt to throw him overboard during their entire interaction this time. And it was nice to see your husband excited to show off his legacy to someone, even if it was to his child self. It looked like things were getting a bit easier between the two of them.

Looked like. Because no sooner did you think that, Kid Buggy came back to you two with a frown on his face. You immediately thought something was wrong, wondering if someone insulted him again, but he crossed his arms and looked up at Adult Buggy. 

“Where’s Shanks?” Kid Buggy asked. “As a grownup. Why isn’t he on this ship too?”

Oh shit. You looked at your husband. He stormed away last time he was asked that question, but this time he stood his ground, probably because you were right there beside him. His hand was on your shoulder, you reached up to touch it gently. The look on Adult Buggy’s face was a mix of anger and sadness, and you wondered if you needed to butt in and change the subject, but he finally spoke.

“His life went in another direction.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “He’s not on this ship, he’s on his own.”

“What?” Kid Buggy frowned. “We’re not co-captains or anything?” He paused, looked at you then looked back at his adult self. “Are we still friends?”

The innocent question was a stab to your heart, but you couldn’t even imagine what it was like for Adult Buggy. His expression was unchanged, trying to think of a kid-friendly way to explain what happened, but was it right to tell him everything? Weren't there rules about this kind of thing, you don’t eat a butterfly in the past or something or it would change the future? Telling the kid his future was one thing, but about relationships? If he told Kid Buggy how his friendship fell apart, the betrayal, the hurt, could it end up that he changes this kid’s future, and in turn his own? What if he doesn’t become a captain, get his own ship? What if he didn’t meet you?

Adult Buggy took a deep breath before slowly exhaling. He didn’t know how to answer, but he had to say something. Both you and the kid were looking at him, waiting for him to say something.

“He has his own ship.” Buggy repeated. “That’s all.”

Then he pulled away from you and walked away from the two of you, leaving you worried and Kid Buggy confused by the answer.

[the-kipsabian]

wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

[kitty-tea]

We’re all weird

Link to masterlist

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader (formerly)

Hi this is my first time writing something for Harry Potter. The idea for this plot’s kind of based off a dream I had which is why some stuff doesn’t make sense. Like the setting. I know every autistic person has a different experience, so I tried to write this as similar to my own experiences as I could. Also the story doesn’t follow the main timeline of the books or movies. I don’t own any characters except reader and the four first year students.

Whether the reader is diagnosed or not, it’s open to interpretation

Summary: After you catch Draco cheating on you, you’re forced to go to a school banquet. Unfortunately you can’t avoid anyone.

Tags/warnings: ableism, internalized ableism, name calling, reader has an emotional outburst, Dumbledore being confusing, reader is autistic, social isolation, bullying, teasing, Draco being mean, pure blood supremacy, mentions of cheating, angst

You looked around the venue for an empty table. You were one of the last people to arrive, so all the tables were taken. If only you hadn’t spent the last hour overthinking and dreading this event, you could have gotten ready and arrived a lot sooner instead of grabbing one of the last portkeys that were set up at the school.

The theme of the party was for the students to dress in their house colors. Being a Slytherin, you wore an off the shoulder emerald silk dress that went down to your feet, accentuated with a slit that showed off your entire left leg. You decided to keep your hair down to use as a curtain for your face as you always did as a way to avoid eye contact.

As your eyes scanned the rows of small tables lined along the room horizontally, they met the very reason you were dreading coming here. You spotted the group of Slytherins from your year, which included your ex-boyfriend Draco and his friends, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. Draco had his arm around Pansy, who looked over to you, which drew the attention of everyone else at the table.

“Look, it’s Flappy-hands.” Even through all the people talking in the room, you managed to hear Pansy’s comment referring to your habit of flapping your hands when you were happy or excited about something.

You saw Goyle get up from his seat. He started to flap his hands while jumping up and down. Even though you had a harder time reading people’s intentions, you knew he

“I can’t believe I ever dated a freak like her.” Draco was telling his friends. “She brings shame to Slytherin. Would’ve been better off as a Hufflepuff.” He rolled his eyes.

“Only because she's a pure-blood, but that doesn’t mean they should let freaks like her into the Wizarding World.” Blaise said.

“Dumbledore only made her Head Girl because he felt sorry for her. He’s the only one too.” Pansy laughed.

You knew that wasn’t the case as evidenced by your several conversations with him. Dumbledore always knew you were different from other students even before you figured it out, it seemed. When you came to him to question what made you deserve this position, he said something about how he knew you were one of the rare people who would never abuse their position, and that the extra responsibilities would help you grow as a person.

“She really earned her place as Head Girl.” Crabbe smirked before adding, “she’s the Head of the freaks.”

You were in no place to cry at the moment. You wished you could be in one of your “safe rooms” around the school where no one would be around you to bother you.

A few tables in front of the seventh year Slytherins, you spotted the table with the Gryffindors from your year along with Ginny and Luna. Every time you saw Harry Potter with his friends, you couldn’t help but feel jealous. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was because of how well they all seem to belong together, except for when they got into fights but that was normal for any friend group. Everytime you’d pass by them, you’d think about how nice it would be to be friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They might as well have been friends with every Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff too. They were welcoming towards students from other houses, except for yours which made you feel left out from the rest of the school. Especially during your fifth year when you found out Harry and his friends formed a secret group called Dumbledore’s Army, and hadn’t invited anyone from Slytherin. Not only was that group in on something you weren’t, but so were your former friends. You felt like a reject in the middle.

Your thoughts were consumed by the events of the past week and the course of your overall social life.

Everything from the day Draco asked you to be his girlfriend to that time you came back into the common room after patrolling the halls and saw him making out with Pansy on the couch invaded your memories. You were completely clueless to the fact that Draco had been flirting with you for the last two years, so it was a surprise to have him ask you out and call you beautiful. Everyone in your group could see how flirtatious he was except for you.

You had years of practice of holding in your tears when something emotional would randomly pop into your mind, this should be no different, you thought.

For as long as you’ve been in school, Draco, and all the other Slytherins from your year were the only people you’ve ever hung out with. Even though you hung out with that group for years, you always felt that there was something off, like you didn’t really belong, and they seemed to think that way too. It wasn’t until you broke off from them that the insults about your differences came at you unrestrained. They’d point out every little thing about you that they found odd, most of which were things you didn’t notice about yourself.

Before you became Head Girl when you used to share a dorm with the other girls, you’d catch them whispering to each other about the little odd things about you they would notice, like how you didn’t understand when you weren’t welcome into a conversation or how there were jokes and expressions you took seriously. You didn’t know how to stick up for yourself without crying, so all you could do was pretend to sleep by using your covers and pillow to muffle your sniffles.

It was a break from your routine after you cut them off where you were left completely lost and confused. You liked routines and order in your life. It was like having the rail of the stairs to hold onto for a long time and relying on it to get you through it, only for it to be snatched from you.

After you had caught your ex-boyfriend making out with Pansy, you used the disillusionment charm to sneak into your dorm where you cried. Not bothering to change out of your uniform, you hatched a plan to get revenge on Draco the next day, to humiliate him in front of the whole school. The plan was that you would intercept him in the courtyard after class and throw all your rage at him, then yell exactly what he’d done in front of everyone. What you didn’t plan was for him and his friends to laugh in your face as they told you that he’d been cheating on you with Pansy since a month into your relationship when he wanted to give up on “dating the freak.” You thought the other students from other houses around you would defend you, but with you being a Slytherin, you should’ve known that they’d keep quiet as you ran away since you were associated with that notorious group.

You were so in your thoughts that you didn’t pay attention to which table you sat yourself at.

“Hello.” You heard a small, high pitch voice from across you. As quickly as you turned to the owner of the voice, you looked down at your lap. It was a first-year Gryffindor student. Next to her was a Hufflepuff boy, also a first-year. It had just come to your attention that you, a seventh-year student, was sitting at a table full of first-years. To your left, you saw a Ravenclaw boy and to the opposite side of you, a Slytherin girl you didn’t recognize. You knew they were first years mostly because they were wearing their school uniforms instead of the fancy dresses and suits the older students were allowed to wear. You assumed the first-years had to show up in their uniforms so that the older students would be able to distinguish the ones who needed guidance more or something like that.

“Aren’t you the Head Girl?” The Gryffindor student asked you.

“Yeah.” You forced yourself to look into her eyes briefly before you spotted the staff table at the back of the room and looked down. You had come close to making eye contact with Draco’s father, Lucius. You should’ve known he’d be there. He was the governor of Hogwarts. Besides your former group, he was the person you were dreading to see for the rest of the night. You used your fingers to brush some hair in front of your face, hoping he wouldn’t see you.

“Why are you hiding your face?” The same girl sitting across from you asked. Shielding half of your face with your hand now, you looked up at her.

“There’s someone here I don’t want to see tonight.” You whispered.

“Who?” The same girl asked, not lowering her voice.

“There’s a man behind you. He’s sitting at the staff table. He’s the blonde man next to Professor Snape. His name is Lucius Malfoy. He’s my ex’s father and the Hogwarts governor.”

“Oh yeah,” the Slytherin girl sitting to your right piped up. “I’ve seen you around a lot with your friends.”

“They’re not my friends anymore.”

“Sorry, I forgot your name. We’re all first years. We don’t really know a lot of people at the school.” The Gryffindor girl said to you. After introducing yourself, they told you their names. The Gryffindor’s name was Melanie, the Slytherin’s name was Kayla, the Ravenclaw’s name was Stuart, and the Hufflepuff was named Owen.

“Why did you and your boyfriend break up?” Kayla asked you. You would’ve thought that she’d be more informed about your house’s gossip, but seeing as her friend told you that they didn’t know a lot of people, you deduced that the four of them mostly kept to each other for company more than students of their own houses.

“I caught him cheating on me with another girl from our house. It’s because they all think I’m weird. They’ve been calling me a freak.” You stopped yourself from saying more. You did not want to start crying.

“It’s okay we’re all weird here.” Melanie said.

“Yeah that’s why we have each other.” Stuart said.

You looked up at all four of them, smiling at their apparent welcomeness towards you. You quickly realized you shouldn’t have looked up again as you spotted Lucius and Snape having a separate conversation from the rest of their table, about you probably.

“I think they’re looking at us.” Stuart tapped on your shoulder. You flinched. “Sorry, do you not like being touched?”

“Don’t you?” You asked him.

“No, it’s fine I hug my friends and family all the time.” He smiled. “You’re like my cat. He hates being touched too.” You couldn’t understand how there were people who were okay with being touched, it felt smothering to you.

Stuart left the mostly one-sided conversation to dig into his plate which gave you time to eavesdrop on the one Lucius and Snape were having.

“I see your son’s ex-girlfriend has distanced herself from her usual friends.” You could hear Snape say even through all the noise of overlapping conversations around you.

As quickly as the two participants of the conversation looked over to you, you hung your head down for the umpteenth time that night.

After a while of you taking your eyes off them, you could feel two new presences behind you, and you didn’t like it at all. You were dreading the words you predicted would come out of Lucius’ mouth should he come into contact with you tonight.

It was Snape who spoke first instead. “If it isn’t the Head Girl, hanging out with the four troublemakers I have the delight of having as my students.”

“Good evening, sir.” It was the first sentence you heard Owen say since he told you his name.

You knew if you turned around you’d see the same scowl you’d grown familiar with seeing over the years.

“Aren’t you, an eighteen-year-old about to graduate, too old to be hanging out with first years? You won’t even be there for them next year.” Snape spoke to you.

With a shaky breath, you forced yourself to look into the eyes of the two men as you turned around in your chair.

Lucius put a hand on Snape’s shoulder. “If you recall our first meeting where I, a seventh year Head Boy befriended you, a first year, you wouldn’t be so harsh on her. She’s only doing for them what I did for you.” You were confused that your ex’s father was apparently defending you.

“I’m going off what happened.” He explained.

“You’re her ex’s dad aren’t you?” Owen turned to him with a raised eyebrow. That made Lucius’ attention snap away from you.

“Did you know your son cheated on her, that’s just mean.” Kayla said.

“How dare you disrespect your elders like that.” Snape clenched his fists. “I’ll be taking ten points from the five of you each. Such disgrace coming from my own house. Unbelievable.” He scoffed.

“That’s not fair.” Melanie argued.

“Does anyone want detention?” Snape warned and everyone at your table shut their mouths.

“I was not aware you and Draco were no longer together until your teacher mentioned it. I’m usually the first person who hears from him.” Lucius said to you. “Really disappointing how you turned out, given the pure blood family you come from.”

Throughout your relationship, you thought the less time you spent with Draco’s parents, the less likely they’ll come to find out about the part of you and your personality you were desperate to keep hidden from other wizards for the sake of you seeming normal to them. And now you knew Snape spilled everything to him, every single thing that made you different that he was able to pick off you.

“Will you stop acting like a child who was caught being naughty and look into the eyes of whomever is speaking to you? As I’ve told you over and over?” You had to suppress the urge to swat Snape’s hand away as he reached down to pull the curtain of hair hovering over half your face. Now, both of your eyes were on him. Even with makeup on, your face felt naked without your hair covering it.

“She doesn’t like it when people touch her, you know. She didn’t do anything wrong.” Kayla glared at him.

He pulled his hand away from you. “That is the second time you have disrespected me tonight.” He glared back at the younger girl.

“She’s just a child, it’s understandable to have the instinct to defend someone who’s unable to do it for themselves.” It hurt that Lucius was taking a jab at your inability to stand up for yourself, something he picked up on really quick. Why couldn’t you pick up things about other people like that?

Snape’s eyes were on you again. You used a trick Dumbledore taught you where you looked at people’s forehead or eyebrows whenever you’d get uncomfortable and overwhelmed with holding eye contact. You used that trick on Snape quite often.

“As someone who’s about to graduate, you should know that the real world won’t be as forgiving of your freakish nature as Professor Dumbledore or your little friends. You know how they treat werewolves and Squibs.”

“I know.” You spoke for the first time in the conversation. You were converting your anger towards how the world had treated you into courage to stand up for yourself. At least that’s how you thought of it “The whole school actually made sure of it when they made it clear I’m not welcome here with the rest of you people!”

You didn’t have much volume control or awareness, and you didn’t know most of the people in the room heard what you said until Snape and Lucius looked around themselves. Your eyes followed theirs. Everyone had halted their conversations.

You saw Draco slap his palm against his forehead, muttering “she’s so embarrassing.”

“So is his father.” Harry whispered to his friends. You heard him and his friends snicker, but Draco didn’t.

“Yes, Draco and Harry. Your father and I are an embarrassment to Slytherin! Whatever!” You snapped at them. “Everyone should go ahead and tell each other how much of a loser I am too!” Your voice started to tremble and so did the tear running down your cheek. “About how I’ve never been truly welcomed in any of you all’s friend groups.”

“If I’d been sorted into Slytherin I would’ve known just how mental she is. Almost feel sorry for Malfoy. And I thought you were the mental one at first, Hermione.” You heard another snide whisper, this time from Ron.

“We’ll maybe if you and the whole school weren’t so closed off in your anti-Slytherin world you would’ve gotten to know me as a person and exactly how mental you think I am or am not!” You shouted at him. He flinched back in his chair. Even though he and the whole school had seen your meltdowns, this was the first time he was the subject of it.

“She’s right. If only Potter’s little friends and us ever got together, then we could all agree and talk about how weird she is.” Draco said and you took a step forward, but Snape grabbed your arm, holding you back.

“Enough!” He yelled harshly enough for Ron to sink into his chair even further.

“Severus, trust me you’ll want to lay your hand off her.” Dumbledore stood up from the staff table and walked over to you.

You didn’t think he sounded mad, but you couldn’t tell most of the time.

Snape let go of you.

“Everyone, you may go back to your previous social engagements.” Dumbledore addressed the whole room.

“Albus, she needs to be disciplined more harshly than the others. I just know she does. Look at the example she’s setting for the younger students.” Snape said to Dumbledore as soon as everyone else started to mind their own businesses.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said and looked over at you. Without any words of objection, Snape and Lucius resumed their places at the staff table, not looking back at the four students that were just talking to them. “I’d like to speak to you alone. This way.” Dumbledore said gently.

You were too ashamed of the way you acted to do anything but nod your head as you followed him on shaky legs to the entrance hall outside the room. You hated how you couldn’t seem to keep your emotions in check as much as everyone else did. It was something that other people would notice about you and call you out as being weak.

As soon as you were alone with Dumbledore, the sobs you held in exploded. “I’m so sorry, I know you’re angry with me. Blaise was right about me being a freak and how I don’t deserve a place in the Wizarding World. And Pansy said you only made me Head Girl because of pity. I tried so hard to be normal, but I can’t.”

Throughout your rambling and sobbing, Dumbledore didn’t interrupt you. Another way Dumbledore treated you different from how the adults treated you was that instead of interrupting you or trying to finish your sentences when you got stuck, he patiently waited for you to finish them yourself.

“I think Snape knows. He knows how… how much I’m not like the others. Please don’t tell him you know too. I can’t have him be… he can’t find out. He thinks something’s off about me. And he hates me for it. He’s ashamed of me and so am I.”

“I see.” Dumbledore said quietly, folding his hands in front of him. “And while I’ll respect your decision to keep some things about yourself private, I can only tell you it’s not something to do lightly.”

“What do you mean?” You were always confused when Dumbledore gave you advice in a cryptic way.

“Let’s just say one can only keep a house made up of mud for so long before it starts raining profusely.” You still didn’t understand the sayings he’d throw at you. You’d always get frustrated with figurative expressions. Why couldn’t people say exactly word for word what they mean?

“Why would I need to build a house with mud? We don’t live in that type of climate. Bricks would be easier to access where my family is from.” Dumbledore chuckled. If someone laughed at something you said it was because they were making fun of you. Dumbledore was the only person you trusted enough to know that wasn’t his intention.

“I can’t be angry with you for the person you are.” Dumbledore brought the topic back to where it was before. “When I was in school, I remember thinking everything I would learn in the classroom and the books would prepare me for what was to come in the real world. I was wrong. The best teachers are often our own experiences. And I think you and your classmates will share those same thoughts after graduating.”

“Thank you, sir.” You said. “I’ll um, get back to the party.”

“Oh, and one last thing.” Dumbledore said as you turned you were about to turn your back. “Before you leave school, I want you to always remember that you should never be ashamed to be who you are.”

“What if people don’t like me for who I am? That’s always the case.” You interjected. Even if you found people who cared for you and accepted you, you didn’t think you’d be able to do it for yourself.

“Which is why I said you should never be ashamed of yourself for your differences.” Dumbledore answered before telling you to go back into the room. You were left wondering if other people thought Dumbledore was just as much of a confusing person as you did.

-

Let me know what you think!

[arcane-temp-fandomblog]

This blog will be back for pre-Arcane S2 fun soon

So thank you everyone who likes/comments/tags/reads this tumblr. It makes me happy even during break to see the activity.

Anyway, I'll write whole predictions etc. post after I get life stuff out of the way.

For now We get the poster S2 and we get 4 reflections. From top-left to bottom right: it's Ekko, Heimerdinger, Victor and Mel. Of course in true Arcane style Zaun is on the left side and Piltover is on the right side.

Jinx represented by the rocket since she's the bringer of change, but since all other characters are missing - I'mma going to go on the limb that those are the ones that can flip-flop which side they're champion or whose allegiance is uncertain. But Ekko and Viktor will be on Zaun's side, and Heimerdinger and Mel will be on Pilover's side. No shocking revelations there. There will be no heartfelt bridging of science understanding between Heimer and Ekko, I mean we all know that avenue was dead the moment someone touche's Heiemrdinger's life's project - Piltover the Bastion of Enlightment.

I also think Mel's and Heimerdinger's little spat on who is the true leader of Piltover will come to a head - finally.

Anyhow, so in the meantime what happened in Riot-land:

Arcane is canon to cries of many people because apparently it destroys everything according to them. Idk. for me it was always close to canon. I feel like having more control about the story may be good move for the future - if there will be follow up projects - because:

Riot forge (RIP) released Ekko centric game CONV/RGENCE which idk... to be nice I have seldom seen such botched story beats. "I'm going to save the city by blowing it up with a nuke..." that's a plausible conflict to be taken seriously. Characterisations were botched. And I do know it's a platformer but still it was jarring.

On the other hand TFT that made mini ad cinematic that made more sense narratively than CONV/RGENCE . Make it make sense.

Can't wait for this two to interact again.

Anyway, will be back for some pre-season fun and fingers crossed we get trailer for MSI finals. Hope everyone's excited.

[next-autopsy]

A/N: Well, hi there! Another chapter, read away and lmk what y’all think!

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: none I think

Tags: @malarkgirlypop, @panzershrike-pretz

Made of Glass

Chapter twenty six: Half an explanation

“Here.” Connie held her hand out, beads dangling from her palm. Birdie took them gratefully, thanking her friend for the rosary as she sat down on the pew the young blonde was perched on.

Birdie wanted to explain why she was late but the silence in the makeshift chapel was broken by the preacher beginning his sermon, So, Birdie stayed quiet. She listened to his words, letting each one soak into her mind while she fiddled with the borrowed prayer tool.

Bernadette enjoyed being in the chapel, even after the service, it was quiet; a nice place to reflect. The comforting feeling engulfed her, that place was sacred and Birdie always felt welcomed, even on her first visit. It was familiar and soothing.

Connie sat with her, mutely as the two women prayed. Both quietly counted their mumbled worship on the string of beads in their hands.

Guarnere and Muck made their way over to the ladies while everyone else filed out of the building. The two men shuffled into the pew occupied by the women and sat, the presence of her friend next to her broke Birdie from her thoughts.

“You got a lot of explaining to do, missy.” Bill leaned over to whisper to her, even though no one bar the four friends were left in the chapel. She inhaled to begin her explanation but Bill held up a hand to stop her, “You owe it to Toye too.” She shut her mouth.

Bernadette was not looking forward to sitting down with Guarnere and Toye and who knows who else and describing last night's events. She would definitely have to leave some stuff out.

—------------------------

“Jesus. You’re alive.” A sarcastic comment from Toye broke the weird silence as Birdie, Muck and Guarnere walked into the barracks.

“You thought I wasn't?” She was confused, why did he sound so angry at her?

Next to Toye she took note of several other men who all looked upset with her. Great, this was going to be one of those talks. Luz was fidgeting with the edges of his lighter, Muck sat down by Malarkey and Penkala on a random bed they claimed. Bull and Lipton were standing in the corner by Johnny who glared and huffed in her direction.

“You disappeared last night.” Don observed, he had an unspoken rule with the woman to find him before she left any bar or party they attended together and let him know where she was off to, which she typically stuck to but for some reason, didn't last night. He had taken it personally when she avoided him and worried an awful lot once he realized she had taken off without telling him.

“And you didn’t exactly give any of us a heads up.” Alex added. He had not worried as much as the others, knowing she could handle herself well enough and she wouldn’t make dangerous choices, but he still liked to be involved.

“When we got back to the barracks… Looking for you…. You weren’t even here.” It circled back to Toye, he was fuming, jaw clenched. He was definitely the most bitter about her disappearance.

“Well, I- '' Birdie attempted to get a word in but was very quickly cut off by her best friend.

“Do you know how freaked out I was?” Toye stood from his spot in the room and stepped towards her. Bernadette’s full focus was on him, she hadn’t realized he would get this upset about her going off to dance with Liebgott or she would have said something or just not gone at all.

“But-” The woman tried to speak again but was cut off once more.

“Where were you by the way?” Martin spoke up from his corner of the room, arms crossed over his chest and signature glare aimed at her. She wanted to shrink back or leave the room but she knew she owed them something. These men were her closest friends and she had caused them an awful lot of worry with her reckless departing.

“It’s-” For a third time Birdie started to answer and was interrupted, it was starting to get on her nerves.

“Oh and did you think we wouldn’t notice a certain someone was missing too?” The venom in Martin’s voice was unmistakable, he paced near her, stopping only two feet away from the lady. His next words not only shocked her but most of the room occupants, “Please tell me you didn't spend the night with him. Come on, you're smarter than that, Birdie.” That was the last straw, she wasn't willing to stand there and let him speak to her like that, not allowing her to say more than a word and assuming the worst.

“Would you shut up for a second?” It wasn’t a true shout but her voice did rise, “Firsty, I told Frankie that I was leaving and with who and secondly I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions, even ones you don’t agree with and I do not need to explain myself.”

“Okay why don’t we just cool it a little.” Lipton stepped between them, a gentle hand on both Birdie's forearm and Martin’s, “All we are trying to say is that we care about you. We were worried, that’s all.”

“So, you wanna tell us where you went?” Bull asked, the men stayed quiet awaiting her answer. Birdie huffed, rolling her eyes. She knew the real answer wouldnt land well so she padded the answer a little, leaving out key details.

“To Richard’s place.” It was the safest thing to start with. Dick was respectable and was a perfect chaperone so she wouldn't have to convince her friends she hadn't snuck off to sleep with someone.

“‘Richard? You mean Lieutenant Winters?” Don’s eyebrows rose, in the running bet of Birdie and Lieb; will they wouldn't they, Malarkey had his money on Winters. He didn't think Lieb would be nice enough to the woman and she’d ended up falling for a complete gentleman like their lieutenant. It wasn't the popular choice but that just meant more money for him when he won.

“Yeah.” She confirmed.

“Do tell.” Skip prompted, eyebrows wiggling.

“We left a pub and found Nixon stumbling around, too drunk to tell us where he lived. Then I remembered the family Dick is bilited with are off seeing relatives for the week so we took him there, and Dick made us stay the night cause…” Birdie trailed off, remembered the reason, not super keen to share as that would only lead to more questions, though it was a bit late now.

“Cause…?” Alex cued, he was invested as was Malarkey, Skip, Guarnere and Luz, all leaning forward to hear Bernadette speaking. The others, Toye, Martin, Bull and Lipton stood further back, mostly because Toye and Martin were all but growling and Bull and Lipton were trying to calm the wound up men. Birdie knew she would have to talk with Toye privately, smooth things over and explain herself properly without an audience, they both just needed time to breathe.

“Cause it was late.” She wanted to leave it there, not have to explain further but she knew her friends.

“How late?” George smirked, he knew what he was doing and Birdie gave him a look to say she knew what he was doing too.

“Like … I don't know… four something.” The southern woman mumbled, keeping her voice low in hopes that they didn’t hear even though she knew it wouldn’t work that way. Birdie didn’t miss the looks sent around the room, if the floor opened up and swallowed her right now, she would be grateful.

“My my, and what were you doing out so late, young lady.” Luz’s shit eating grin spanned ear to ear.

“Shut up, George.” Birdie got up to leave, trying her hardest to avoid the inevitable. She just knew George would weasel the information out of her and twist it into something it wasn’t.

“Oh! So it’s private, huh?” George followed her out the door, leaving their friends behind. Birdie headed toward the mess hall, determined to get her hands on a cup of coffee and maybe some peace from the chatty man, “So, what did you two get up to?”

“Oh Jesus! Dancin’, you happy? We danced.” The woman realised her friend would not drop the topic unless she gave him a few more details, so she went with the bare minimum. She wouldn’t tell him how they sat and talked for hours or about their nicknames for each other, how her heart fluttered when he called her doll, how she shared things with Joey that she hadn’t shared with most people.

And she definitely wouldn't tell Luz about the moment they shared, standing in the road under the stars, leaning towards one another. The moment that was interrupted but if they were given a few extra seconds alone, that moment would have been the beginning of something more. No, she would keep that for herself.

“Ohhhh… So it was a date?” His smug tone was giving her a headache.

“No!” Bernadette called out, louder than she was planning to. Her footsteps halted and she looked over at George before continuing both her words and walking, “No. It wasn't a date. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“So the two of you went off by yourselves to dance the night away and you don't think that was a date? Let me ask you something?.... Did you have anything to drink?”

“Yeah.” Of course they had, they were in a pub.

“Did he order it?” Luz’s smirk was becoming irritating and he had the ‘I told you so’ tone., Birdie was not enjoying this.

“Yeah…” She had a yucky feeling she was about to be proven wrong. But the previous night couldn’t have been a date. Joe hadn’t asked her out… well not specifically, not on a date. And if he had she wasn’t sure she would’ve gone with him. Fraternising was against the rules after all.

“Did you offer to pay for it?” George questioned, he already knew the answer. Bernadette always offered to pay, even though none of the guys took her up on the offer.

“Yeah.” She knew where this was going now. Opening doors for women and paying for their drinks was typical date behavior. The chivalrous acts showed romantic intention and was expected when courting someone you were trying to impress. But it wasn’t a fair argument from Birdie’s perspective, all the easy company guys bought her drinks and took offence when she offered or snuck off to pay before they could stop her.

“Did he let you?” He didn't have to say that but he really wanted to spell it out for Birdie, rub it in, prove his point.

Silence. Absolute silence while Birdie frowned and George grinned, holding back his laughs. He knew she wasn't telling him everything, he just knew Birdie had feelings for the man and now he could bring it up every chance he got and embarrass her. The perfect form of entertainment.

“It was not a date.” She growled out, stomping into the mess hall they had now reached, leaving George to chuckle at her reaction.

A/N: ooooo Birdie is in the doghouse! Lmk what y’all think of this chapter, love ya x

~ Nex ~

Chapter twenty seven

[no-psi-nan]

🥺🥺🥺 not 2 be sappy on main but omg I actually started off in Deviantart ages ago, that was the closest thing to social media for me until the tumblr migration lol. But I never really interacted with people on there, and even upon moving to tumblr, never really interacted with people here too often either. At first I had my main blog which was meant to be more professional since I was selling art to get a little college income, so I didn't really make too many irrelevant posts. Then I decided that I wanted to be able to reblog art and support other artists, so I made a side blog where I carefully curated and tagged the posts I reblogged. I made a few original posts but no one ever interacted, and eventually I realized that people only ever sent me asks there if I tagged anything wrong. Also I found out that adding stuff like series and character tags to a reblog on tumblr is basically useless because the op will pretty much always tag those things which makes it searchable on your own blog even if you don't tag it yourself. And if op DIDN'T tag it those things, your tags will make the post searchable on your blog but NOT in the general search, so it doesn't give op any more of a boost than just reblogging it tagless. So I made another sideblog, which I still have today, and I just rapidfire reblog literally anything I find shareworthy lol. Not any interaction there but at least I'm not wasting my time meticulously tagging strangers posts hsfjdlshfks. Since I was best friends with a big name fan in my main fandom (we became friends when I left a long emotional comment on their fanfic btw <3), I helped run some small fandom events and met more people as well. When I switched fandoms, it was a fandom event that gave me a new friend too, my posts never got any traction. Large fandom discords didn't really work for me either. But on this blog I was lucky, and for the first time people started like actually responding to my comments and posts, and get conversations going! And genuinely that's what's kept my brain rot so powerful I think, because bouncing ideas off each other and joking around and shitposting is genuinely the most fun I've ever had online!! I have to thank desta and oatmeal for the fun times especially, and hillbilly---man left really nice comments on my first few fics that really encouraged me, and I always have fun trading ideas with alienn, saikikthoughts, and crookedlyinnernightmare, plus everyone else who's on here, that's too many people to type out. AND I TYPED UP A BUNCH MORE STUFF BUT TUMBLR FUCKING DELETED IT!! Are you shitting me.... Well I think I remember saying that even if it's been getting kinda quiet and boring lately so my attention is starting to wander (I've pretty much posted all of the meta that's not deep fanfic hc at this point and my drawings take me a long time to make), I'll never delete this blog and I'll still be putzing around online until the day I die probably. And I'll always remember these days fondly and hope to find another great community like this one. And also I highly encourage everyone to post, reply, interact, and play with fellow fans! I've made lifelong friendships over blorbos and even if we don't have the same blorbos any more, we're still friends. Obviously stay safe online, never send money to strangers, probably wait like a year to start shipping each other stuff but still, reach out because you never know who you might meet! I've been lonely irl for most of my life for various reasons, and my online friends have been a lifeline honestly, they're all really important to me. Two of my best friends today come from fanfic comment sections!! Also I need to get around to archiving my meta on AO3 lol (yup, it's for meta too!) but that's gonna be a lot of work so -_-U).

[agoodfictitle-shadowban]

The Fate You Fight - Pt. 2

Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,8k

[TFYF Masterlist]

Tags: soulmate AU, telephatic link soulmate, architect!reader, jewish!Wanda, post-MoM, hurt/comfort, no proofreading

Warnings: mention of abuse, description of violence, language

Summary: You never wanted anything to do with your soulmate, but when you find her in an advanced state of distress you had to help. After that, it becomes hard to let her go.

A/n: it is way too early for my brain to work in any capacity or form i just wanna qleep but anxiety be anxious. ALSO I love yall guys, every one of you, especially the one who take the time to comment (i see you)

Taglist: @red1culous

As you promised you showed up the next morning with clean clothes for Wanda and a bag to put in all of her stuff plus what you bought for her.

Packing everything was fast, and before you knew it, you were sitting in your car to bring her to your place. The ride was silent but not as tense as you thought it would be. You arrived and opened the door for her. The place you rented was pretty nice, it was nothing incredibly big or fancy but it was enough for the three of you - Anath, her soulmate Jamie, and yourself. You guided her to the guest bedroom, showing her the rest of the apartment on the way. She took it all in stride and you put down the bag with her stuff at the end of the bed on which you put fresh linen yesterday.

"Here you go. Make yourself at home." She looked around the room, following the line in the wood of the dresser as she walked. "We can go buy you some clothes too, if you want." You took a look at her. She looked adorable in your clothes, but you were sure it must be uncomfortable for her.

She sat on the side of the bed, testing how firm it was, and she nodded in agreement at your proposition before she thought too much about it, and it made you smile.

"Okay, great. We can go as soon as you're ready."

This earned you a small smile this time, and you left the room so she could put her things out. You noticed Jamie had left their room, still in pajamas, and was making themselves some breakfast.

"Oh, hey Y/n. Did your mysterious Jane Doe settle already?" They asked when they saw you get out of the room.

"She's doing it right now. I'm giving her space." As you talked you could smell the pancakes calling you. They took out two more plates alongside theirs. "Going all out I see."

They juggled with the pancake pan and another one for bacon and eggs. "Nothing beats an American breakfast after a stay at the hospital."

"You know she can't eat too much yet."

"Mhm." They kept going and you noticed them actually making small foods for one of the plates, like a mini-breakfast.

You snickered. "She's not a child."

"Hey, everyone likes small food. Plus, they're special." They pointed at the smiley face in the pancakes. It was also on the bigger ones. "See."

"Unbelievable," you muttered. "Can't believe you're actually a renowned chef."

They shrugged and you walked away to your own room for a minute to put your phone to charge, and when you came back you saw Wanda looking at Jamie from her door. It was kind of adorable.

"Wanda," you called softly and she jumped a small bit. "Jamie is making breakfast, you want some?" You paused for a second. "They kind of already plated some for you," you added in a mutter.

"If they already plated it…" she answered, and you took the lead.

Before you reached the kitchen fully - where Jamie was now singing very off key - you looked at her. "What name do I give him?"

She pondered the question. "Wanda is fine."

That was a good sign, you thought. Or maybe you were reading into things. Still, when you reached the kitchen again, you introduced them to each other.

"Wanda, huh. Nice name." They put the plates on the dinner table that was close to the kitchen.

She shrugged at that and simply sat down where she was indicated to. You took the seat next to her and Jamie sat across from you. Your friend's soulmate had always been a chatty person, and today seemed like it wasn't going to be an exception. That is until you heard Wanda's voice.

"I can't eat those," she said, pointing at the pancakes. "There are smiles on them."

Your eyes went wide and you had to bite your lip hard not to laugh. You were in no way, shape or form, expecting her to react like that to the smiling pancakes.

"It's okay, it's because they're happy to be eaten," Jamie answered and it was getting progressively harder to keep your laugh in when Wanda narrowed her eyes at them. She seemed to accept the answer because right after she was eating.

You spent breakfast talking with the cook while Wanda was content listening. Jamie had tried getting her to engage, but she just continued her trend of not talking or only very briefly. They quickly understood she wanted to be left alone and accepted it in stride, before you finished breakfast and you helped with the plates. As you put them in the sink, you turned to Wanda.

"Do you want to go for clothes today or tomorrow, if you need to rest?"

"Today is good."

That was fine by you, so when you finished getting everything cleaned you went shopping with her. It was clear that any crowded place was going to be hard for her to deal with so you were careful about where you went, even if it meant paying a higher price.

It didn't take you that long out there, even when you stopped to buy her a phone too, and you grabbed lunch on the way back. Once you got home, you put the food down and brought the clothes to her room. Upon entering, you noticed the bear on the bed and arched an eyebrow, a smirk forming on your lips. You turned on your heels to look at her with a mischievous spark in your eyes, but before you could open your mouth she sent you a stare. It made you falter, but also, you had to comment on that.

"Don't," she stopped you in your tracks. You crossed your arms and pouted, but she simply walked past you in order to put the new clothes in the dresser.

"So I can't even make jokes aloud now?" You complained, sitting on the bed to watch her tidy - or more like watch her back.

"I guess not," she said flatly. You tilted your head on the side, trying to get a better view of her. You were proud to notice her cheeks' coloration.

You held in a chuckle, and ignored the warm feeling in your chest. "Okay, then I guess it's fine if I borrow it for tonight?" You asked, already laying on the bed and stretching your arm to grab the fuzzy plushie. That was enough provocation for her to turn around and use her magic to put it away from you. You looked at her, mouth agape.

"Mhm," she shook her head, and you gave up, both on stealing the plushie and on teasing her.

"Okay, fair enough I guess. Can we go eat now?"

She answered you by closing the drawer and walking to where you left the food. You enjoyed the takeout in silence and when the afternoon rolled in, you grabbed your laptop to start working. Wanda wandered around the apartment a bit before she decided to settle on a book to read, and you co-existed peacefully like this for a few hours.

"I'm going to need to go to the office tomorrow morning," you told her at some point, your eyes fixed on your screen, and your head hurt when you caught an influx of her thoughts. There was panic, sadness, and fear, and something dark that didn't quite feel like the voice you were starting to know - even if you had troubles hearing her clearly like you did the first time you met her. But despite all that, her answer remained short.

"Okay." She turned the page of her book and you looked up at her, wondering if you should add something.

"Jamie will be there in the morning, and I'll be back for lunch. And if anything bad happens… Just call me. Okay?"

You waited for a reaction on her part, anything to make sure she would be fine. She did seem to relax in the armchair she was curled up in, and nodded. Good.

You went back to work while Wanda's reading kept getting interrupted by thoughts. She mainly wondered how you managed to have her rely on you so much in so little time, and if she could truly trust you. Memories flooded her of everything that happened in Westview. Of what she did after. She closed her eyes, her breathing getting harder and harder. It was like there was a weight compressing her lungs on her chest, and she had no idea how to deal with them. You started to notice a few seconds in and before your brain could really comprehend what was happening, you were by her side, a hand on her knee as you squatted next to her seat.

"Hey, Wanda, look at me." She opened her eyes, vision blurry with tears, but a jarring deep red for you. "What's happening? Talk to me."

But she couldn't talk, there wasn't enough air around her. She was going to die like a fish out of water, and after everything she'd done, she wondered if it weren't better. But she still remembered your note and the crossed out words, and that kept the bad thoughts on their toes for now as you were looking her in the eyes, giving her far away instructions.

Some of her memories and thoughts hit you deep, but you forced them out for now. "Breathe in. Now count down to ten, and exhale. Yes, that's good, again…" you breathed with her, making sure to exaggerate the motion of breathing in and out for her to follow. And it worked. Slowly but surely, she calmed down and was able to breathe normally again.

"Seems like you got a panic attack," you told her. "I used to have them all the time when I was a kid." The explanation of your knowledge only made her tilt her head, so naturally, you gave her more. "My dad used to hit my mother, and I could always see the signs of it coming. My mom, she sent me to my room to protect me, but I would start to panic and just…" you gestured vaguely to her as if to show what had just happened.

She looked at you with a sadness that was different than her usual, and you understood it was directed at you. Her empathy made you look away almost in shame of your admission. You rarely talked about it ever, but she thought it would help her, or at least distract her. Now you weren't so sure.

"Thank you," she said, and it made you feel better immediately. "For sharing."

You offered a small smile and squeezed her knee before you stood up. After squatting for so long blood finally flew back freely to your legs and you let out a groan at the sudden pain.

You had a very awkward walk back to your place on the couch, but it was one that tugged on Wanda's lips. That made it strangely okay with you.

*

Wanda got very little sleep her first night in her new room. It all felt too comfortable, too homey, and she was strangely perturbed by the smell of your detergent on the linens. She found herself startled by a very intrusive thought: what if she went to sleep in your room? She caught herself thinking about it, thinking of sleeping next to you, or in your arms. You had been so kind to her, and she had to admit that it felt nice. The last time she felt cared for in this capacity was with Vision. As she thought of her husband, she wondered what he would think of all this, of how low she had fallen. He would have disapproved for sure, maybe he wouldn't have been able to truly understand. He always had been this way, so straight in his boots. Would you understand her? Would you be able to look at her knowing everything she'd done? This questions haunted her, but she had no way to know the answer.

What if she looked for them directly in your head? Something in her whispered. She could make you hers in the snap of a finger, kill any doubt in your mind. You didn't need to have a choice.

She shut down the voice as hard as she could. She refused to take anyone's choice away ever again. If she were to live instead of wasting away, she couldn' keep hurting people for her own selfish interests.

She grabbed the bear tightly in her arms and imagine your soothing mind voice reading in her head. Eventually, it was enough to soothe her, and she fell asleep.

*

She heard you leave for work in the early morning. It actually woke her up, and the thought of trying to get back to sleep was a haunting one, so she got up. She paced the apartment like a cat trying to get aquainted with its territory. More than once she stopped in front of your door. She wondered how mad you would be if she went in just to have a little look around. After the seventh time, she went back to her room to grab a book, any book, to try and distract herself. It worked well enough, and mainly long enough for Jamie to appear again, sleep on their face when they emerged from the room.

"Good morning young lady," they said, and Wanda arched an eyebrow. She was fairly certain that she was older than them. Still, she said nothing. "Any wish for breakfast? I was thinking fruit salad, toasts, greek yogurt and… strawberry jam?" They almost asked, like they were trying to guess something.

Wanda simply shrugged. She had completely forgotten about breakfast, so anything would work for her. Jamie took that as a yes and started working in the kitchen.

"You think you could tell me your favourite foods?" They asked in the middle of cutting some mango. "It's kind of the first thing i asked when I heard you were going to live with us, but Y/n didn't know."

She vaguely remembered you asking her about it on your way here. Now, she felt bad for ignoring the question.

"Paprikash," was all she could provide right now. It was always the first one that came to mind.

"That's a good one." They put the cut fruit in a salade bowl. "I'll make some when you work up a bigger appetite, this way you can enjoy it better. I actually was thinking of making a Wanda dish of the week. So you feel more welcolmed here."

She looked at the cook and blinked a few times. They were very different from both you and Anath - even if she didn't see a lot of the latter. They reminded her of Pietro somewhat, always ready to make new friends and have a good time before they got roped up in the whole Hydra business. She wanted to cry just thinking of him, but managed to hold back her tears.

They failed to notice the sudden distress, busy rambling about food they liked and that maybe Wanda would like too. She managed to calm down enough to be able to join the table for her reduced portion of food, thanking them in a small voice. They offered a smile and kept talking, offering Wanda a very lively one sided conversation, something that right now she was very happy to have.

*

Work had been a hassle this morning. You loved what you were doing - architecture was your passion after all - but you hated when you had to go meeting to meeting, having to deal with some very insufferable clients that didn't understand the law of physics or what materials to use in what condition. That transpired into lunch, and you sent a quick message in Wanda's direction, hoping she would be fine alone. When you finally left the office, it was two in the afternoon and you rushed home. When you arrived you were relieved to not only find everything in order, but also to see Wanda simply sitting on the couch in her pajamas, a plaid on her laps, watching some old black and white sitcom. She barely reacted when you came in and simply grabbed some popcorn to eat, and you smiled at the image. She might not have been in a great mental state, but apparently she had decided to at least try living a little bit.

"Hey, sorry, the client kept being… well, a client," you finished your sentence like it was self-explanatory. "How have you been?"

You left your coat on the rack and your keys on the plate near the entrance, coming to the living room. You let yourself fall on the other side of the couch, Wanda following with her eyes. Her answer consisted of a shrug, which was on brand with her.

"Have you eaten?" She pointed to the popcorn with her chin, her eyes back to the screen in front of her. "Beside the popcorn?" Wanda looked away, and that's all you needed to know. "Okay, I'll make you a small sandwich."

You stood up again and walked to the kitchen. It took you very little time to make a sandwich, plus one for you with some fruits and some cut cucumber. When you put it on the living room table she eyed it and went for some of the cucumber. You had a small smile, content that she ate at all.

Looking at her you could only smile warmly. Your instincts were screaming at you to get closer to her, maybe cuddle, or something like that. That's when you felt something tap you in the thigh. You looked down and saw Wanda's foot.

"You're loud. I'm trying to watch tv," she said and you snickered, making her arch her eyebrows.

"Sorry, sorry, I'll… think less?"

"Watch the show, it's good," she advised, and you took it, focusing on the tv. It was still good to see Wanda talk and be there.

*

The night was deep, the barely visible moon high in the sky, when Wanda awoke, eyes red and glowing in the darkness. Tears filled her eyes as she realized the reality she was in, her breath ragged with sorrow as she sat up and gripped her head between her arms and hands, sobs shaking her body weakly. She startled when she felt a hand on her shoulder and pushed it off with a slap.

"Don't touch me!" She screamed and a wave of energy surged from her, hitting you straight into the wall of the room. A groan came out of you under the pain and she snapped her eyes open. "Oh god, Y/n! I'm so sorry!"

She scrambled to her feet and kneeled next to you as you leaned against the wall, trying to stand up but you only saw stars. The noise attracted your roommates who rushed in the room, turning on the lights.

"Y/n? What happened?!" Anath came closer to you when you finally managed to get up against the wall.

"It's nothing, I'm fine," you tried to cover but Wanda shook her head, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"No, I– it's my fault, my magic surged and it pushed her. It's my fault, I'm so sorry," she cried.

Anath and Jamie looked at you both, Jamie snapping out if it first. "An', hon, why don't you take a look at Y/n?" She nodded and put her arm under yours to guide you to the living room.

Wanda followed you with her gaze, how could she have hurt you? You had been so good to her. She tried to follow after you, but Jamie kept her from doing so. "Let Anath take care of her, she'll be fine."

"But what if she's not? What if–"

They gently brought her to the bed to sit her down. "No what ifs, it only makes things worse. And she's a tough cookie, she'll be okay."

"What if–" they lifted a finger. "She hit the wall hard."

"She'll be fine," Anath said from the door. "She might have a few bruises tomorrow, but nothing terrible. I gave her some paracetamol and sent her back to bed."

"See, just as I told you!" Jamie said to Wanda and they patted her back. She didn't answer but nodded, and they took it as a sign that she was okay.

"Let's all go back to bed," Anath ordered in her doctor voice, which was very different from her normal everyday voice, Wanda had noticed. "You too, Wanda. You need the rest."

Her eyes still red from crying, she looked as Jamie and Anath left, the former offering her a reassuring smile. Once they disappeared, she laid down back on her bed, but sleep proved elusive.

She was quick to leave her bed again and walk around the apartment, stopping in front of your door from time to time. She just wanted to check on you, make sure you truly were okay. She was desperate, actually. Just taking one peek wouldn't hurt. It would help.

The door barely squeaked when she opened it and she could see you lying there, so still, and anxiety flared up. Were you truly alright? She had to make sure, so slowly, she walked closer to you. She would just check if you were still breathing, nothing more. Once she was close enough, she extended her hand to go under your nose. There. She could feel you breathe against her fingers, and immediately her anxiety started to go down.

"Come on Wands, you're being creepy," you mumbled. "And very loud, too…"

She moved her hand back hurriedly and hid both under her arms. You opened one eye and made some space in your bed.

"Come on. Jump in so we can sleep."

She frowned at that. "I hurt you… I can't…"

"You didn't mean to." You were still sleepy, but the feeling was starting to slip from your fingers like water.

"It doesn't matter." You crawled back closer and took her hand, pulling her on the bed. It was easy to do since she was light as a feather. She fell on the bed, trying to hold up on her knee and hand. "What are you doing?!" She yelled-whisper at you.

"Making you understand I don't care. Accident happens, but if you keep me awake, that I won't forgive," you growled, and that was enough for her to simply let go and lay next to you. You adjusted your position as she did hers, and soon you were standing each on one side of the bed. You let go of her hand to turn your back to her, ready to sleep again. You felt her move again, and soon warmth spread in your back. If you had been more awake, your breath would have itched in your throat, but right now you only wanted sleep.

It overtook you before you could think of anything else, and Wanda followed.

*

The next morning when the sun pierced your windows, you tried to move around but quickly realized you were trapped in Wanda. Her arms and legs wrapped around you and kept you from moving away. You didn't even realize that this happened during the night, and strangely you barely minded. Still, you weren't one to stay still even in bed, so you needed to find a way to move around. With limited movements at your disposition, you settled for the soft way, gently brushing your fingers along Wanda's arm and hand, to her fingertips.

"Hey, Wanda?" You whispered, and it seemed to work as she wiggled behind you. "Could you relax a little?"

"Huh?" She sleepily questioned until she realized how tight she was holding you, and the fact that she was holding you. "Oh…"

You were finally free - and maybe a bit sad about it, but you shelved that thought for another time - and turned around to look at the witch. "You feeling okay this morning, Witchy?"

The nickname had her frowning and you pinched your lips not to laugh. "Don't call me that."

"What if I want to tease you?" You poked the end of her nose and she scrunched it up before rolling away.

"How are you so chipper in the morning?" She complained.

"Well, I slept great." You scooted closer. "Despite the koala clinging onto me. Maybe that should be your nickname."

She turned around to look at you with what looked like annoyance, but there was something soft in her eyes, and that was what made you want to tease her some more. 

"Don't," she warned you with a tilt of the head.

You put your hands up in innocence. "I didn't do anything."

"I can hear you think."

You laughed and turned your back. "Okay, okay."

You could still feel her eyes on you while the ceiling seemed very interesting right now, nothing to do with what looking at her made you feel.

"Is that why you came to visit me in the night?" She asked in a small, shy voice.

"Hm?"

"Did you hear me?"

Ah. "Yeah. Woke me up, actually."

"I'm sorry." She turned away from you this time, making herself small, hugging herself. This broke your heart.

"You keep apologizing like it's your fault."

"I'm a nuisance. I keep hurting you. Taking your time. That's all I'm good for," she whispered and you would have missed it if it weren't for your telepathic link. You wondered what had happened for her to fall so low, but once again, not a priority right now.

"Yeah, you've hurt me, by accident. But for the rest? I'm giving you my time freely, and that means you're not a nuisance." Very slowly you moved closer. "And you know, where you are right now, no matter if you think you can't get better… you can. You will."

This felt so flat to say, but you'd never been good when it came to reassuring people, to make them feel better. You actually remembered specifically accidentally making it worse once when you were a kid.

"Don't say that, you don't know me."

Very, very carefully, your hand came into contact with her back. Her back felt warm through the clothes.

"No, but I remember when you saved my life. You came and you told me how heroic I'd been, but I didn't feel that way at all. I felt like a scared idiot. And when I look back, I think of how much you were the true hero. Not only did you save my life, but you checked on me after just to assure me I was safe. And that takes a good person."

"I'm not that person anymore." She started to remax against your touch, so still taking your time, you wrapped your arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I disagree. Don't get me wrong, you're very different, but this kind of desire to do good, it never goes away."

"I think it did." She thought about America, and those she killed in the other universe. All the bodies she left in her wake to get her boys back. Her boys who were terrified of her in the end. Just thinking about it broke her heart all over again, and she sobbed. You held tighter onto her.

"Do you want it back?"

She nodded and you had to fight not to let her emotions take over yours. "I want everything back."

"Then start with that. Be good to others. Be good to yourself. And see where you get from there."

She turned around and hid her face against you. Her tears soaked right through your shirt, and you couldn't care less. Your throat tightened so much and a few tears did escape your eyes. All of her feelings were so overwhelming that it was a wonder she could still stand up, and the state you found her in made so much sense. Anyone who felt the way she did would collapse under the waves of pain and burden.

It only proved how strong she truly was.

*

Luckily, it was the week-end. This meant no work, no getting up early, just good old rest and quality time with Wanda and your friends. Who actually left for the week-end for a romantic getaway. That made sense. They rarely had the same days off, so they had to enjoy the time they had together. It also allowed you to relax while Wanda clinged to you, knowing you wouldn't get teased by Jamie. They weren't as subtle as Anath when it came to your aversion to the whole soulmate thing. They weren't as subtle about a lot of things, to be fair. You were still glad they couldn't see you on the couch with Wanda next to you, her head on your shoulder, and your arm around her - it was just more comfortable.

"You want pizza for lunch?" You asked her at some point and she frowned, looking at you from her spot on your shoulder. "What?"

"I've never seen you cook," she commented.

"... because I don't cook. Last time I tried I got a visit from the fire department."

She actually backed off to take a better look at you, leaving you slightly cold.

"I'm cooking today." Why did this feel vaguely threatening?

"I definitely won't fight you on this one," you mumbled.

"Good." And she settled back to watch the sitcom she chose - something less dated than last time.

You finished two more episodes before she started cooking, and you joined her in the kitchen to look at her. She seemed to know her way around a kitchen, a lot more than you at least - not a very hard feat, but still. It was probably the first time since you found her that she seemed at ease with herself and what she was doing. It made you smile, especially when she slapped your hand when you tried to steal some pepper bell slices.

"How violent," you complained with a laugh.

She arched an eyebrow and you just laughed some more until she graciously offered you one strip. "Thank you." You winked at her.

As you were enjoying the crunch of your vegetable, Wanda glanced at you briefly.

"Did you know it was me when we met the first time?" She asked, and you almost choked. That came out of left field.

You coughed a few times and finally you shook your head. "Did you?"

"No, I… My powers allow me to hear people's thoughts. When I heard yours, I just… I assumed it was just another one from people who were bad at filtering their thoughts."

That explained a lot. There was a lulling silence, loaded with hesitation, before Wanda talked again.

"Did you ever look for me?"

You looked down, a feeling of shame washing over you. "No, never. I kind of assumed my soulmate wasn't interested either, since they didn't manifest themselves at the time. Now I know better."

You felt anger emanating from Wanda and dying down as fast as it came, replaced by a desire to understand. "Was it the only reason really…?" There was a note of desperation in her voice.

"No, no, it wasn't," you admitted. You owed her the truth, or so you thought. "I told you my dad used to beat my mom, right?"

She nodded and you licked your lips, looking for words.

"They were soulmates." She looked shocked. She heard whispers about this kind of thing happening, but most of the time it wasn't spoken of. Laws were bad on this too. "I… I guess it kind of made me think that if the person who was supposed to love you no matter what could be such a piece of shit, then it wasn't worth it. Why trust Fate if it's going to give you a shitty hand? I just hated the idea of my choice being taken away from me if I had no guarantee I'd get something good." You let out a deep sigh. "I don't know if it makes sense. At the time it did."

"How about now?"

You shrugged. "I still want to be able to choose, I think."

This was something she could understand after so many of her choices were stolen from her over the years.

Would you choose me, she thought, and you heard it loud and clear. Yet, she kept it to herself, and you decided to do the same out of respect since if she wanted to ask, she would.

"You're not mad?" You dared to ask.

"Sometimes I am. But I understand why you would do that." She resumed her cooking - not that she ever fully stopped, and you admired her for a brief moment of clarity.

"Thank you."

With a glance, she threw a simple "don't", and that was the end of the conversation.

*

When the time to go to bed was upon you, you both got ready together, brushing your teeths last and standing in front of your respective doors. You looked at each other for a bit, before you pointed to you bedroom door.

"Well, that's goodnight, I guess," you said as you scratched the back of your neck.

"Yes, it is," Wanda confirmed, but neither of you moved to go.

You rocked on the ball of your feet. "You want to…?"

She nodded enthusiastically, not waiting for you to finish your sentence before she went past you directly to your room. And your bed. As soon as she was in there, she dived under the blanket and started making herself into a burrito.

"Hey! If you want to stay, you have to share!"

You came after her, climbing in bed and trying to retrieve some of the blanket. She held tight, a mischievous smile on her lips. Oh god, she was way too adorable for your own good.

"It's mine now."

"Oh, if that's how it's gonna be, then I'll just have to freeze out in the open." You pouted, and she seemed to give it a thought.

"I'll let you in if you read for me."

You opened your mouth before surprise hit you at her statement. "What?"

A shrug. Apparently she was done negotiating. It was time for you to surrender, and you got up to grab a book. "Get the lamp please," you said as you turned the main light off before sitting against your headboard. Wanda freed some of the blanket for you and she came closer, too. You opened the book and started reading, feeling her move closer and settle against you as the words flowed from the pages to Wanda through your voice.

It only took a few pages for her to completely sink into you and fall asleep. You set the book on your side table and glanced at her one last time before you turned off the light, settling in sleep in turn.

[rosesradio]

i’ve been feeling this way for a while, but i’m serious when i say that the reblog to like ratio on artists’ creations (not “content”!! creations!) actually makes me sick to my stomach

most of these posts i’ve found have a reblog count that’s not even one fifth the amount of likes

and it just gets worse every day. it doesn’t matter how “popular” it’s perceived to be—an artist is considered “lucky” to have notes like this

of course, most people who don’t care have already looked away—and I know nothing is going to change on a large scale, but i still feel the need to talk about it.

why is this the way that it is? are people worried about their blog aesthetic? that can’t be it, the likes can’t contain That Many aesthetic blogs…could it be that they’re worried about getting In Trouble for reblogging the Wrong ship art? Perhaps, but that’s also stupid—this isn’t just an issue with “problematic” ships or rare pairs, but also the most popular of ships. it’s a tumblr-wide issue

of course, there’s also other forms of art, like edits/graphic design

and, of course, my writing, which is so embarrassing i hesitate to even show it

i’m honestly lucky to find one with a reblog—some have up to 20 likes and no reblogs

this was one of my lucky ones. it’s lucky that even one sixth of the people who liked this wanted to reblog—heck, one or more of those might have been me self-reblogging (not that there’s anything wrong with that ofc)

now, before people accuse me in particular of wanting popularity—i do, but that’s besides the point. i am sick of this on the behalf of artists, who are so immensely talented, it’s heartbreaking to see that so little people want to share their work.

i don’t care if my works get 5 notes, but the fact that no one reblogs it tells me that my works aren’t good enough. that’s not me being melodramatic—what else do you expect creators to think when they have a piece with 20 likes and 1 reblog? of course you’re going to wonder, despite this being an issue with Everyone, what is wrong with your creation in particular.

and, of course, i could go on about the added “hits versus kudos versus comments” issue on ao3, but everything i want to say has been said before

the lack of engagement in fandom coupled up with the increasing entitlement (coupled up with the “walking on eggshells” of the rise in purity culture, but that’s another post)—it’s made fandom a not-so-fun space to create in. of course, i still love it—i still intend to create and share my works with anyone who will enjoy it while i watch discouraged artists deactivate and the people who enjoyed their content ask why they left.

i just hope when people see these posts about reblogging and The State of Fandom, they don’t feel like things are just going to get worse until a crash—anyone can make things better. every reblog and nice tag makes a world of difference.

[dazedandinked]

Steddie fic recs (2/?)

Part 1

In the last six month I've read, saved and commented an alarming amount of Steddie fics. I finally feel ready to share some of my favorite so far with all of you because I think all the authors deserve kudos and new readers!

I'm not much of a writer, but I hope you'll like my suggestions. Feel free to RB, leave comments and recs for me.

This second part took me a while, but hey I made it!

Buckle up, this time we have: some very good famous Steddie au, one of my fav Punk Steve fics ever, a very sweet coffee shop au and some LARP!

I have a lot of regrets about that by @hairmetal666

The thing is: I just finished reading "Daisy Jones & The Six" (which I strongly rec) and my scrolling brought me to this fic. It's destiny, there's no other explaination.

I really enjoyed the interview writing style, it's nice to get multiple POVs about the events. The feelings and the pain between Steve and Eddie are so sincere it broke my heart in a few moments.

The ending is just delicious to me.

***

New York Hardcore by @grandmastattoo

Before adding a short comment, I'd like to underline the fact that this specific is quite intense - or it was for me.

Ok, so. I'm not sure where to start with this fic - and the whole series. I really enjoy Punk!Steve in every shape and color, but this fic has something that really left me so raw and tender.

***

The pain and grief are described magnificently, the images are so powerful. The healing process is long and complex but oh, so freeing to read. I love Steve being a weirdo, loving with abandon and without restraints.

Kudos to the author because they did their research and it shows: there are a lot of great references to places and music. The punk in this fic is so real, not some pop punk stuff!

Red Eye by @alinafewwords

This fic is still in progress. Not everyone reads incomplete fics, but I do and I felt the need to rec this one.

I think I mentioned this before, but I'm a modern au avid reader.

I really *love* this particular coffee shop au because it's the right mix of fluff and caffeine that keeps me alive. I particularly enjoyed the growth of Eddie and Steve's friendship, the soft intimacy surrounding their moments together. Also, the spicy six get to be there and there a good amount of buckingham, which is definetely a lovely plus.

***

The Shire in NOT on Fire by @kissesforcas

Is there someone out there who hasn't read this fic and loved it? I don't think so.

The idea of the Party joining a Reinfaire and LARP event is just so nice, I always love reading about them having a good time together - no trauma involved.

The idea of Steve and Robin being exposed to a whole world they don't know is just really funny, with all the costumes and roleplaying involved. Everything concerning Steve trying to resist Baby Byers when it comes to convince him to do whatever the Party asks him makes me cackle. I couldn't resist that puppy face either.

The plot is fun, the pining is delicious, the smut is even more delicious.

You don't know this fic already? Well, hop on the train right now!

***

Slither by @mixsethaddams

This fic is still in progress. Not everyone reads incomplete fics, but I do and I felt the need to rec this one.

Also, I didn't really mind the tag before reading because the themes don't really trigger me. However, it may not be your cup of tea.

I must admit, it took a while for me to start this fic because the setting isn't one of my usual au choices. I don't really read influencer/youtuber aus, but this fic was a blast - I couldn't put my phone down!

I loved reading about Eddie and Steve's blossoming weird friendship, and the PLOT! Like, I didn't expect the many heavy subjects to be described in such a different-but-insightful way (altought the author did a great job mentioning all of them, mind the tags guys and don't be like me).

Chrissy is probably my favourite so far, I love her, Eddie and Gareth being a team!

Finally, AUTHOR I FINISHED CH8 AND HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE LOVE LAUGH IN THIS CONDITION.

That said, see you next part guys!

Daze

[dejwrites]

DEBT, CHAPTER SEVEN

➣ warnings: yakuza boss!toji fushiguro x black coded reader, mentions of sex, mentions of sex work, profanity, gang violence, yakuza au, baby!megumi, drug mentioned, alcohol usage, drug usage, stripping, naoya being naoya, ➣ chapter summary: y/n's meeting at work leads to an afternoon with her favorite boys.

➣ tags: @maydayaisha @eiflawriting @thicksimpx @ihateliyah @galaxness @ceeriusly-dumb @stephanythedramaqueen @littlemochi @babe-im-bi @todo7roki @whatdidhesayyyy @hellavile @imperatorkhaleesi @caribbeanwifey19 @etaerealboy

[ masterlist + previous ]

YOU HATED MEETINGS AT WORK. It was always the same rules being talked about. Don’t steal other dancers' favorite clients. Make sure you stay hydrated and eat. The same rules could have been sent in the mass group chat full of all the strippers. However, you and your co-workers did get paid when you had meetings like this. The majority of the things your manager was saying were going into one ear and left out of the other. You were texting Toji, who was going on and on about how he thought it was important for you to know hand-to-hand combat to be able to protect yourself, now that you officially knew who Naoya was. Even though you've had to backhand slap a coworker or two for trying to steal your tips, you weren't exactly an expert in hand-to-hand combat. You knew that there would be a time when Toji or the others wouldn’t even be in the same room as you, and you should know how to defend yourself.

So, here Toji was setting up some training with Nanami tomorrow morning. You hated to admit that when you first saw Nanami, he was extremely intimidating. He has the ability to make you squirm in your seat with one look. The way he articulated his words could have had you thinking that he was a figure in the political industry, but he was actually a member of a yakuza gang. The way he carried himself was even better. You were extremely curious. What else is there to know about Nanami Kento?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice that you haven’t heard in three days. When your head shot up, your breath hitched in your throat and your heartbeat quickened. There Naoya stood talking to your manager as if he was your boss's closest friend. boss. With quickness, you're texting Toji. 

“Your cousin is at my job”, the text message said. “What should I do?” You quickly added.

You watched as the text bubbles appeared on your phone. You could feel everyone staring at you as you were about to send Toji another text. It felt like your heart was bouncing around in your chest and watching the text bubbles disappear and soon seeing that Toji had just read your message caused your heart to drop in your stomach. When you locked your phone and looked up, Naoya was giving you a grin. “It’s nice to see you again, beautiful.” He would say. “I told you that I enjoy playing games, so if spending three days trying to find you helps make this game fun, then so be it.”

You forced a smile on your face as you went up to touch your neck. A move you found yourself doing a lot lately considering that you had to explain to Toji that Naoya had your necklace. “Looking for this.” He held up the diamond necklace and you instantly stood up to grab it but he inched it out of your reach.

“Not so fast!” He said. “Let me take you out shopping.” 

Your eyebrows raised at his comment. All eyes that were in the strip club were on you two. “Shopping?” You questioned, head tilting slightly.

“Mhmm, you did say you wanted the best gown. I know a boutique that can give you that.” Naoya explained.

Shit, the charity ball. You were so worked up over your necklace being gone that you realize that you forgot all about the charity ball. You didn’t even mention it to Toji. “And I want the finest jewelry and shoes also.” You added with a smile.

Your task to seduce Naoya was going to be longer than you expected. Naoya would smile at you before he’s holding up the necklace. “Whoever gave you this could have done better.” He bluntly admitted while he helped you put the necklace back on.

You bit your tongue holding back the remark to defend Toji’s honor. You adored the necklace. It was a genuine gift from the guy you were growing to care about. Naoya insulting it felt like he was also insulting you. You watched as Naoya extended his arm for you to grab, which you were quick to latch on like a pretty sugar baby getting flaunted around. 

“Y/N’s done for the day, be sure to pay her for all of the time you wasted of hers,” Naoya told your boss who would only nod in fear as they watched Naoya guide you out of the club.

Expecting to see a personal driver waiting outside, you were met with Naoya’s jet-black Maserati car. The windows were tinted so darkly that you couldn’t even see the inside. When you got into his car, Naoya closed the door behind you like a gentleman. The once expensive scent you smelled when you were near him during the pool party once again trapped you. You had to get used to his scent, especially when it was much different than Toji’s. Both men had the scent of money—as if they spent hours counting yen bills as a thing on their to-do lists. However, Naoya had a more sultry scent. Making it obvious that a woman was once latched onto his arm while he sipped the most expensive bottle of wine.

You didn’t have much to say to him, but he was destined to break the silence beyond the JHipHop song that hummed out the speaker. 

“I know the owner of this boutique, she has styled me before countless times,” Naoya says as he was driving. 

Now, you were taking in how he drove. One hand on the steering wheel, his seat not that far from the steering wheel, but just enough space for him to be comfortable. For him to receive a lewd blow job from whatever pretty girl that was in his car.  “Is she styling you for the ball? You want us to color coordinate?” You questioned. 

“Yes, she is. I do want us to color coordinate.” Naoya says, “But whatever color you want to wear, I look good in any color.” He makes a sharp turn into one street that was filled with luxury stores and boutiques. 

“Mhm, we’ll see about that.” You bluntly say. 

WHEN YOU AND NAOYA ARRIVED AT THE BOUTIQUE HE KNEW THE OWNER OF, it was the same boutique that Toji brought you to. You just knew that the workers would be oddly confused, and you hoped neither of them would bring up your association with Toji. Considering how high-class the store was, you were hoping that they had seen many faces come and go and that they would forget you. But with each step around the boutique, pretending like it was your first time seeing each item, the one cashier Emiko that helped you last time noticed who you were. You made complete eye contact with her before she averted her eyes back to neatly put the diamond bracelets in the case. 

“Mr.Zenin, it’s so nice to see you!” A voice boomed as they exited out the back of the store. Their expensive red bottoms clicked against the shiny floor with each step they took and there a woman with brunette-colored hair stood greeting Naoya. She greeted him with a kiss on each cheek and a smile.

They didn’t greet Toji like this, you thought to yourself.

“What can I help you with today? You always bring such stunning women in here every time,” The woman gloated as her eyes then landed on you completely speechless. “Oh my! Oh my! What’s the occasion, Mr. Zenin? Please tell me.” The woman begged with such an excited tone.

“It’s a charity ball, this lovely lady said she wanted the best. So I came to the best AKA you, Emi.” He gave the woman a charming grin before he let his body fall on the plush seats that Toji once was sitting at when he took you shopping.

Emi would click her tongue as she waltzed over to you. Her eyes scan your body as if she was some doctor. She circled you letting out a low hum before her lips parted to speak, “I’ll be right back. Girl! Please go get them some champagne for our guests.” 

“Her name is Emiko.” You spoke out and Emi just shrugged without care before disappearing in the back. 

You watched as Emiko scurry to the back also to fetch some champagne as Emi told her to do. Naoya’s eyes looked at you as his eyebrows raised at you, “You’ve been here before?” He asked.

“Yes, I have a couple of things from here.” You admitted as you took a seat next to him. “Seems like you bring a lot of women here to be a man of standards.” You did air quotes on the standards part. 

“If I’m going to have a woman on my arm, I’m expecting for her to not look like a constipated nun.” Naoya sighed as he grabbed the glass of champagne that Emiko poured for the two of you.

You watched as Emiko bowed, “Please let me know if you two need anything else.” She says before walking away. 

“And you said you wanted the best of the best, this lady designed a dress for the prime minister’s fuckin’ wife. She is the best.” Naoya gives you a grin. “I need every man in the room seething with jealousy when I walk in.” 

“But why me though?” You scooted a little closer to Naoya. The two of you now sitting close enough for your thighs to be touching his that was spread apart like he was the king of the world. 

“Why not you?” Naoya countered. “You’re gorgeous  and seem like you know more than you’re letting me know.” His eyes looked down at the necklace and then at your face. 

“Emiko, please change our sign to close and ensure no one comes in,” Emi demanded as she was tugging a rack of dresses out.

Your lips parted to argue against Naoya’s words, but Emi cut you off. “At first, I was going to design a new dress because I have this beautiful yellow fabric that I believe will contrast your skin complexion very well…Miss…” her voice trails off searching for your name.

“Y/N.” You said out loud.

“Miss Y/N, yes! However, I remember this one dress that looks like you can fit it. It’s delicate, soft, white..” She went rambling on about her creation. “It reminds me of an angel, a beautiful angel. A Zenin angel.” She says out loud as she unzips the cover-up the dress was in and she took it out.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head seeing how beautiful it was. The words Emi used to describe it were as true as ever. It was completely breathtaking, from the white silk fabric that covered up the lower half of a person’s body to the top part that was dazzled in shiny white pearls. Emi clapped her hands to get you out of the fashion daze you were on. “Now please darling, let’s go try this on. I’m sure Mr. Zenin can’t wait to see you in it.”

“I know she’s going to be beautiful as ever,” He pointed out as he sipped at his drink.

You gave him a sly smile before standing up and letting Emi drag you into the changing room. The same particular one you were changing in when Toji took you shopping. You stripped out of your clothes before carefully putting on the dress with the help of Emi. You could hear her impressed hums and low squeals of excitement with each movement you made in the dress. As you admire your beautiful frame, you couldn’t help but smirk at yourself. You were beautiful from head to toe. Your boobs fit perfectly in the top portion of the dress as if it were tailor-made just for you. The silk lower half of the dress hugged every curve perfectly. 

“I don’t even think I need to do much tailoring,” Emi said as she was walking around you similar to what she did earlier. “It’s perfect for you, love.” She says. “Hmm, it’s just missing a little something.” Her finger tapped at her chin in a thinking stance.

You opened your mouth to ask for the price of it, but Emiko came rushing in. “Miss Emi, I tried to stop this guy from coming into the store but he just charged in. I uh—I’m sorry.” Emiko ranted.

Emi rolls her eyes before she’s leaving you alone to admire your beauty once again. You were going to take a couple of men's breath away with this dress. You let your hand glide down your body before eventually hearing the loud commotion outside the dressing room. You didn’t want to remove the dress without the help of Emi, so you lifted the end of the dress before following the sound. When you exit the dressing room area, there you see Toji clutching Naoya's expensive button-down shirt by the collar. His eyes glared at Naoya as if he wanted to shake him like a rag doll.

“Do it Toji! Hit me! You always were the one with the temper when somebody outsmarted you. I was right all along, I knew she was friends with you. What type of nonsense are you fuckin’ on?” Naoya spat rudely as he shoved his older cousin back.

“I should break your jaw right now. How about that?” Toji asked as he took steps forward.

Emi and Emiko were trying to defuse the situation, but that was no help at all. You took a couple of steps forward clearing your throat as loud as possible to gain their attention. “How’d I look?” You gave a lil slow twirl before flashing both Naoya and Toji a smile. 

It was as if your presence calmed both of them down. You would take a couple of steps forward, “Toji, I’m pretty sure he knew once he kept my necklace. I think it’s time we all just sit down and talk.” You explained.

“I don’t want to talk to this fuck face.” Naoya and Toji said at the same time. 

You rubbed at your temple letting out a sigh. “Emi, we’ll take the dress. Mr. Zenin will be paying for it. I’ll come back another day if you want to make any adjustments to your liking.” 

Emi would only nod before smiling, “Please Emiko go help Y/N take off the dress. While Mr. Zenin and I handle the transaction.” 

When you removed the dress, Emiko was sure to place it neatly back on its hanger and in the cover-up bag it was in. She placed it on the rack after labeling the tag to confirm that the dress was bought by someone. When you exit the dressing room, Toji and Naoya are still bickering, even after Naoya has paid for the dress. When you approached them, you would clutch your purse before speaking, “It’s a cafe down the street because we need to talk some things over, set some boundaries. Let’s go, my boys. But first, apologize to Emi and Emiko because of your behavior.” 

Naoya and Toji gave you a look while you crossed your arms over your chest waiting. They muttered their apologies claiming that they both will be sure to send donation money for their inconvenience today. You left the boutique with each man by your side. Bystanders would assume that the two men next to you were like your bodyguards just waiting to snap at anyone. When you stopped at the cafe, you would stop at this table outside that was sitting right near this beautifully grown cherry blossom tree. You would motion for Toji and Naoya to sit before standing up again, “I’m going to go get us some drinks. Any specific things.” 

“Just coffee.” Toji said as he slumped in his seat. 

“Same thing as you,” Naoya said as he gave you a charming grin. 

“Of course, you’re such an ass kisser,” Toji uttered as you were walking inside the cafe.

You would order the drinks and yourself a pastry and also tell the worker where you’ll be seated. When you returned outside, Naoya and Toji sat at the table, quiet as ever. You could hear the birds chirping happily as they were flying around. You let out a sigh as you sat down, “So, I don’t think both of you should be so hostile towards each other. Especially over me, it’s not worth it.” 

“This goes beyond you.” Toji firmly stated. “Just Naoya being Naoya. Not being able to keep his hands in his own jar.” 

“It’s obviously about Y/N.” Naoya rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t belong to you, Toji.” 

“Well, she doesn’t belong to you either, Naoya,” Toji responded.

“Not yet.” Naoya's lips curve into a smirk and you could see the corner of Toji’s lip twitch in annoyance.

“Fellas! Please stop, let’s get down to the business. Naoya, do you know this man?” You slid your phone across the table showing a picture of your father. It was one of the most recent photos you have of him. 

“Of course, he paid off his debt in full and—“ 

“Using my fuckin’ money,” Toji uttered under his breath.

Naoya rolls his eyes at his cousin before speaking, “And I think this guy I know has him. He had paid a little more than he owed and I wanted to return it to him.” 

“Return it? You not keeping it is very off-brand for you,” Toji said.

“Oh come on Toji, I have a little heart somewhere in here,” Naoya rubbed at his chest before snickering. “I think he owes this man I’m tracking money though. Sorry to tell you this my beautiful Y/N, but your father is most likely dead.” 

You sighed at his words before you watched a worker place the order you made on the table. “I figured. He was always borrowing money somewhere, I just don’t know what he would need all this money for,” You uttered. “Who's this man?” 

“I’m suspecting he’s the head of the Endo yakuza gang,” Naoya said as he sipped his frozen frappuccino drink. “I've been trying to figure out who's the head of that gang for months now.” 

“It’s always been rumored that Endo yakuza have always been headless, for years though. Why start having a head now?” Toji asked as he leaned forward, getting comfortable.

“That’s the same question I was asking myself. I just want to find out who because they have their lousy prostitution ring in my district. I feel like he’s doing it on purpose to attempt to get me in trouble with the cops. I may not be the biggest feminist, but I would never stoop low to making women sell themselves to put extra money in my pockets.” Naoya said. 

“He could always see if you’ll say anything. If there’s no head, there has to be a representative that shows up at the meetings we have. It’s a known rule to not do business in people districts without their permission, we drill that in each other’s heads every meeting.” Toji explained. 

“Thank you! This leads me to my next theory of using this beautiful woman as my eye candy for this charity ball the possible head of the Endo yakuza will be at.” Naoya perked up in excitement.

“No.” Toji firmly said.

“No?” Both you and Naoya questioned.

“It’s too risky, I can’t have her getting hurt. If she gets hurt, I’m going to hurt you.” Toji bluntly admitted. 

“I’m not going to let her get hurt. Plus, I think it’s fair game if this move could help us find her father. This guy could have her father, dead or alive. I have photos of the two together.” Naoya explained. “Plus, she already agreed to the favor.” 

Toji looked at you, he didn’t know you already agreed on it. He realized that the dress you had on in the shop was the dress you were wearing to the ball. He let out a sigh, “Okay, but you can’t let her out of your fuckin’ sight.” 

“Of course, I’ll just handcuff her to me.” Naoya sighed in annoyance. “We’re going to steal the show Y/N. The most beautiful woman in Japan and the most beautiful man in the Zenin family lineage.” 

“You guys seem to not question the fact that this man could be running a prostitution ring if he is confirmed to be the head of this gang and he’s able to attend balls with freakin’ politicians.” You finally said. 

Toji and Naoya grew quiet as they waited for you to continue. 

“I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking this but I just find it weird. It just makes you wonder how many politicians could know who he actually could be,” You sighed before sipping at your frappuccino. 

You would glance around your surroundings and just as you glanced up, you saw this man on a cellphone sitting in the back of a Benz truck in front of the cafe. The windows were rolled down considering how nice it was out. You weren’t wearing that many layers and some skin was showing today, but the eye contact you made with this stranger as he was on the phone showed that even with your last minute put together of an outfit—you had his attention. From his hazel-colored eyes to his nicely shaved smooth face. His sandy brown hair fell perfectly without him even trying. The most noticeable feature was the scar that lined upon his neck as if someone tried to snatch his life away but didn't cut deep enough. He wanted you to have his attention. He flashes you a grin before rolling the windows up after someone left the cafe to hand him a coffee. Then the car disappeared down the street as it drove as quickly as possible. 

Why did that man look so familiar? 

“Do you have a picture of the guy?” You asked. “The one you suspect of being the head of this gang?“ 

Naoya would pull out his phone and go into his photos app. He slides the phone to you, “The one in the middle.” 

Your eyes looked down and you attempted to mask your emotions. That was the same guy you just saw parked in front of the cafe. 

But he also was once a very loyal customer to you at the strip club when you first started. 

[iggykoopa666]

for twitter users

if u like art reblog it. liking does nothing. if u really like it add something nice in the tags, it will make the artists day. everyone knows this by now.

because comments are often left in the tags, do not expect a reply from the artist. there is not an easy way for artists to reply to tags without making a new post and @ ing you, so if all that's warranted is a thank you there often will not be a reply. that doesnt mean they dont appreciate it tho!!!

the same goes for adding comments to a post. a comment added to a tumblr post alters the post, kind of like qrting. when someone reblogs that post from you, they are also reblogging your comment with it. artists usually dont reblog their own posts just to say "thanks" because it can cause their blogs to become cluttered very quickly. unlike twitter, where there is a separate tab to view replies, everybody who views their blog would see the same post over and over again with minimal changes. If you want an artist to reply to you, it's best to either use the reply feature or send an ask or dm.

[arwamachine]

Hi hi I have a question for you

This tag in your fic-- is there some old fandom lore behind that phrasing?? I feel like I keep seeing that tag whenever there's verse/top!lock involved haha

Hahaha! If it's fandom lore, then I stumbled into it unawares!

And apologies, because you have inadvertently unlocked A Monologue

Because I'm going to be talking about commenters here, I just want to make it very clear that like 99% of the folks who comment on my fics are wonderful people who make my day whenever I see they've left me a note. This is not about them. I love them and am grateful for literally every second they've been gracious enough to look at some silly thing I wrote.

I started adding the "everyone involved has a perfectly nice time" tag to my fics because, when I first started posting fics, I would get the occasional comments (or DMs) to the tune of, "great [sex act with Sherlock as penetrating/more dominant partner] but would you consider writing [literally the same sex act but with Sherlock as the receiving/less dominant partner]?"

It irked me a little, because the undertone was that it was somehow not enjoyable for the characters in the top/bottom pairing I'd written, and I always felt like I made it OBJECTIVELY CLEAR in my writing that everyone involved in the scene had...you know...a perfectly nice time

Hence the tag ;)

(note, the real message behind these sorts of comments is "you did not write this fic to my exact preferences and desires and I am sad-face-emoji about it," and they are NOT limited to who's on top. I refer to these folks as Mimis, because they are all about "me, me, me," and we at ArwaMachine Inc. do not engage with Mimis)

Initially, I only added it to my fics containing toplock, because--funnily enough--I only received these sorts of comments in my toplock fics. (this remains the case, btw. I have never had a Mimi comment on a bottomlock fic that I should write more toplock. FASCINATING, THAT.) I eventually added the tag to all my fics, regardless of top/bottom pairing, because it tickles me that it's sort of a runner across all my fics now

Also, some readers have started leaving comments on angsty chapters like, "I AM NOT HAVING A PERFECTLY NICE TIME" and that makes me so goddamn happy every single time 🤣

[woohoolalo]

i’m just being self-indulgent now

[badgerbl00d]

laundry day

☆ characters: zoro

☆ up next: angel food ft. sanji

☆ summary: when everyone's clothes get mixed together after a load of laundry you accidentally end up wearing one of zoro's t-shirts. how will he react?

☆ a/n: zoro brainrot zoro brainrot i need him so bad

a/n: he is so perfect n beautiful to me &lt;3

As the impromptu mother of a bunch of reckless pirates, Robin often took it upon herself to do the crew’s laundry.

It was sort of unavoidable, Usopp didn’t know how to separate lights and darks, Luffy would try to push every button on the machine at once, Sanji would only use an insanely strongly scented soap, Zoro didn’t really ever wash anything, Chopper couldn’t reach the top of the machine, and you and Nami always found an excuse to get out of laundry duty.

So naturally, the task fell upon the only remaining mature member of the crew. Though, if she was being completely honest, she didn’t mind.

She was able to find out a lot about the crew from their dirty laundry.

Like how Luffy always stored the food he stole in his left pocket, or how Nami probably learned to sew at a very young age, given how good she was at it.

Chopper occasionally left rumble balls in his hat, and Sanji had personalized suits with a specific tag.

Zoro’s clothes were sweaty, but completely normal… that is, aside from the crinkled wanted poster of you she found once in his pocket. Robin simply placed it on his dresser along with his clean clothes when the laundry was done and never mentioned his little crush again, something the swordsman was more than thankful for.

The crew was nearing the next island, and judging by the climate it would be a spring island. As they got closer they could see a mass of cherry blossom trees covering the island. Chopper was ecstatic. It was a laundry day and thanks to one of Usopp’s failed experiments your shirt was ruined. You ran down to the laundry room to hand Robin your shirt before she finished.

“Robin, that was my last clean shirt,” you pouted, “All the other ones are drying.”

“Hm I see, use one of those shirts,” she hummed, pointing in the direction of a line of dry shirts, “They should be dry.”

You thanked her, putting on the shirt. It had a V cut neckline and was slightly big on you. The low cut neckline suited your chest nicely, and the shirt smelled good. Had you paid any more attention, you would’ve realized it smelled familiar, too.

Robin barely hid a calculated smile as she watched you bound back up the stairs wearing Zoro’s shirt.

The island was beautiful, a pink hue everywhere, from the cherry trees which covered the island.

Luffy had run off with Nami to shop and get food and Sanji had naturally followed right behind. Usopp went the opposite direction with Chopper, who was eager to take pictures of the island and hear Usopp’s stories.

That left three: Robin, Zoro, and yourself.

“I hear there’s quite the beautiful sight if you go straight west, though it’s quite the hike,” Robin suggested as she began to walk after the doctor.

“You’re not coming?” you asked

“No, that’s alright. Good luck!” she said smiling, though it looked like she was talking to Zoro more than you. He huffed and rolled his eyes at her.

She was probably referencing his lack of direction, right?

You led the way, Zoro trailing right behind you. The both of you talked, quite easily. He listened to you, occasionally adding in a comment of his own, though he usually just gave grunts or soft “mm”s as reassurance that he was listening. After a bit he’d started walking right by your side, and your hands would brush every once in a while.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you had a certain fondness for him. Not only did you both have similar ambitions, but your dedication matched. You worked tirelessly to achieve the things you wanted, and you respected his resolve.

And, who were you to lie, he was also incredibly handsome.

More often than you’d confess to, you would catch yourself looking over at him as he trained. The way the sweat glistened on his sculpted body, how strong his arms looked, the unwavering concentration that was evident in his furrowed brow.

And when he was turned away from you? Well, you couldn’t complain at the view of his back either.

At any rate, you ignored any attraction you had. Not only was it impractical but as far as you were concerned, he’d never even indicated so much as a slight interest in anyone. Ever. You weren’t even wholeheartedly sure he liked anything other than swords!

Your thoughts began to trail as you thought of him, his abs and chest, his big hands, his loud and aggressive laugh, his deep voice...

You smiled to yourself, shaking your head as you brought yourself out of your daydream and

looked up.

Uh-oh.

Hadn’t you just passed that tree? And that plant was familiar too.

Having lost yourself in thought you realized too late you’d let Zoro take the lead. And now you were as good as lost.

“Zoro…” you started.

He turned back towards you, “Hm?”

You pointed at the tree and he seemed to get the idea.

You pulled out a map Robin had lent you right before she left and called him over to help you look it over.

He took a seat next to you, holding one end of the map as you held the other. You were good with directions but had no clue how to read a map. You stared intently at it, completely unaware of Zoro’s lingering gaze.

Your face was scrunched up in frustration, nose crinkled, brows creased, and lips drawn to a pout. You turned to look at him, and he whipped his head around, a pink hue creeping up his neck.

Was he looking at me?… you let the thought trail off, not even willing to entertain it. You stayed silent and turned back to the map. Another few minutes passed, the both of you stealing glances at the other when they weren’t looking. You didn’t realize it until it had settled in, but there was tension. Lots.

You were holding your breath, and desperation to break the silence, to say something, crept in.

When you were walking it was so easy to talk to him, what happened in the course of ten minutes to make it so impossible to speak?

The mutual desperation revealed itself as you both finally spoke at the same time.

“Let’s just keep walking!”

“We could just keep...yeah!”

You stared at each other for a second, eyes wide. You blinked away, not wanting to seem imposing or weird, but you could feel his gaze on you. You rolled the map in your hands, fiddling with the corners as you squirmed under the tension.

You turned back towards him, and saw his gaze had traveled… to your chest. His face was completely taken over by a furious blush.

“Z-zoro!”

He snapped back to reality in a split second stuttering out an explanation, “O-oi! That’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

“What?” You looked down at the shirt, finally giving it a good look.

Oh.

You could feel heat rise up past your neck, you were no doubt several shades darker than him right now.

Of course it was his. He was the last one to have given his clothes to Robin so of course they’d have been the ones drying. And had you paid any more attention you would’ve noticed that the familiar smell was his.

“I- My other shirt… Robin said-,” you stuttered, “I just- I just grabbed one and…. sorry.”

“No! No, it’s- it’s fine! It, um… It looks good on you, actually. Better than it does on me,” Zoro murmured, more to himself than to you.

He was going to kill Robin, he was mortified. He could feel how hot his face was, from the tips of his ears to his chest he was flushed pink.

You were quiet, from shock. It looked… good on you?

Was that what he said?

He looked back at you, not sure of what to say.

You looked adorable, he thought, your cheeks were pink and your mouth slightly agape, your eyes were wide.

“It’s gonna smell like you!” he laughed. You still didn’t say anything.

He rushed to clarify, “That’s a good thing! You, um, you smell good! That's weird, sorry…” he let his voice trail off, rubbing his neck as he looked at the floor.

You couldn’t tell which of you was the bigger idiot. You took a deep breath, and let out a laugh.

Music to his flustered ears.

You looked at each other for a second before you spoke. The tension had lifted, and anticipation replaced it.

“Let’s keep walking,” you finally said.

He nodded, offering you a hand as you stood up.

You accepted, taking his hand. It was much larger than yours, and calloused. His skin was rough, but his touch was gentle.

You simply headed in what felt like the right direction and hoped for the best.

This time as you walked, you stayed next to each other.

It took roughly an hour, but as the sun began setting you’d found the place. There was a small clearing at the top of the mountain, and the cherry trees had painted the ground pink.

It was breathtaking.

Over the cliff you could see the infinite expanse of water.

It smelled like the sea, and it was quiet. Only the distant sound of waves crashing on the beach, and faint voices coming from the town filled the air.

Zoro walked to the edge of the cliff, and settled down, leaving his swords behind safely in a bush.

You sat next to him, a generous arm’s length away, not wanting to repeat any more embarrassing slip ups.

But something, be it gravity, fate, attraction, or desire, kept drawing you two closer and closer.

You moved your hand, only slightly, so it could just be seen as a natural movement. But within a second he copied your movement.

It took a while.

Neither of you said anything or looked at the other.

You just looked ahead.

The view was gorgeous.

The sun set over the Grand Line as cherry blossom petals swam in the air around you.

The sea glimmered and a breeze guided your hands, inch by inch, closer to each other.

You could see the Merry in the distance, and the street lamps started to turn on in the town.

You were both so preoccupied in trying to look focused on everything else that when you felt your pinkies touch you drew in a sharp breath.

Zoro wrapped his finger around yours. Turning his entire body to look at you. Your bottom lip trembled.

There was no way this was happening.

The stoic, reserved, and brunt swordsman was touching you ever so gently.

Turning away from the most gorgeous view on the Grand Line to stare at…

You.

“I thought I was supposed to be the nervous wreck,” he chuckled.

“I’m not...nervous,” you lied. You turned to look at him.

He was staring at you with an inexplicable intensity.

“Liar.”

You laughed, and he smiled at you.

“You’re intimidating, you idiot. And… strong,” you said, glancing at his arms.

“I can be gentle too you know…” he said, reaching for your face, tracing your jawline with the back of his hand before placing his thumb under your chin.

You leaned into his touch, releasing a tiny breath as you let your eyes close.

Your eyes fluttered open when you felt his other hand reach down to your lower back as he pulled you closer into him.

You could feel hesitancy in his addicting touch, so you trailed a hand up to his chest, lightly placing it on his neck as reassurance.

Electricity flooded his body, he fought back a groan, not wanting to let on how affected he was by a slight touch.

His eyes flicked downward, focusing on your lips. Soft and pink, perfectly round and plump. His tongue snaked out, to wet his bottom lip.

You drew in a breath, leaning in the slightest bit.

His hand left your back to wrap around your waist, and draw you in closer.

He sat you on his lap, letting your thighs fall to either side of him as you faced him.

You could barely breathe, your heart was pounding against your chest.

Zoro’s grip on you tightens, you can see his muscles tighten under his shirt as the tension rebuilds.

Your eyelashes flutter as you look up at him.

You, a delicate temptation he has no urge to resist, are completely at his disposition.

Your lips are a soft invitation in, one that he accepts with a lack of control you didn’t realize was possible for him.

He pressed his lips into yours, swallowing your hesitation and you kissed him back.

He was strong, even now, as he pressed your hips into him.

You mewled at the friction, sending vibrations against his lips.

Zoro groaned into the kiss, snaking his tongue out past his bottom lip and into your mouth.

You tasted sweet, like innocence, the soft sounds he was eliciting from you were gasoline on an open fire.

Your touch drew out desires that he desperately pushed to the back of his mind, not letting eagerness take the reigns.

Zoro’s grip on your waist, his wet tongue in your mouth, and his addicting groans were making you dizzy.

You felt hazy and disoriented, but oh so good.

You finally pulled back, for a much needed deep breath, and laughed.

“Tell me, swordsman, how long have you been thinking of doing that?”

“Too long,” he said, placing kisses up and down your neck and against your exposed chest.

You looked too good in his shirt, the loose neckline showing off your cleavage, and the rest bunching up perfectly as your waist where you sat on him.

You placed kisses against his calloused hands and up his jaw.

“Ahem,” a voice cleared its throat.

You both jumped, scrambling away from each other as you did so.

A pitiful attempt at cleaning your mess.

Robin laughed, as you both tried to play it off, talking over each other as you gave explanation after explanation.

She swore to secrecy, promising that not another soul would find out, and said that the others were waiting by the ship.

You followed behind her, still red from embarrassment. And only the slightest bit disappointed that your time with him was cut short.

Though you couldn’t speak for Zoro, you weren’t too upset at the interruption. Judging by the swordsman’s lingering hand on your lower back, there would definitely be other opportunities.

[bastillewolf]

Shinigami Eyes (I)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: When you’re paired up with Corpse as imposters in a game of Among Us, you seem to somehow apprehend each others strategies even though it’s the first time you’ve ever played together. He appreciates a good impostor.

Notes: I know I still have many fics I need to finish, but I just wanted to throw out a quick Corpse one because sad to say I’ve been simping for him too. By the way, this is my interpretation of him and this is just for fun. Also, I haven’t written for second person in a while, so I’m sorry if this sucks.

TAG LIST CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Oneshot

“Hey, I wanted to invite Corpse,” Sean said right as the Among Us theme started playing on your computer.

“Great vooooice,” Grease called out.

“Oh, I haven’t played with him before,” you said. It was true, but you’d heard of his legendary voice before and your viewers had been asking for him. You’d only allow it because No Simp September was over. Chat was already going mad.

“You’ll love him. Unless he murders you, because he’s a great imposter,” Sean replies. “He’s too good,” Felix adds.

After a moment, you heard the familiar noise of someone joining the Discord. “Hello everyone,” a deep rumble greeted. The group all said their welcomes, while you introduced yourself. “Very nice to meet you, Corpse,” you added. You didn’t want to comment on the obvious. He must hear it all the time. But you couldn’t deny it was like silk to your ears.

“Nice to meet you to. You make great vids.” A blush spread across your cheeks, “You shouldn’t say things like that, chat is already jealous.” He chuckled.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

Great, you’re instantly sweating. Thankfully, though, it seems you were lucky enough to have been teamed up with the king of lying himself. Corpse’s name is as bloodred as yours.

You decide to follow him after Toast and Sean, and think about how it was Sean who ironically invited the person who was going to murder him in just a few moments. All four of you were being decontaminated below lab, when Corpse made stepped a tad closer to him. You almost synchronically chopped their heads off, and you squealed in excitement. 2 down, 4 to go. As long as no one would find their bodies for a while, you still had time.

Next thing, you’re out of the South entrance and you’ve split up. You join Sykkuno in electric and just wait on him to do his task. Felix joins you afterwards in the next room. That’s when Toast’s body, and ultimately Sean’s, is reported.

Corpse had run back and self-reported.

“Corpse and I just ran into decontamination and found Sean and Toast,” Rae announced.

You were still muted. “Oh god, he’s playing a dangerous game.”

Sykkuno decided it would be the perfect time to call you out. “You and Felix only joined me a while later and decided to stay. Kinda sus of you.”

“No, she was with me at the beginning. I watched her do a task in office,” your fellow impostor vouched. They’d been right, he’s a damn good liar. He manages to hide any sliver of emotion in that deep baritone.

“I don’t trust Corpse anymore, he does stuff like this all the time when he’s impostor,” Lily noted.

“Stuff like what?” He huffed in amusement.

The group agreed the accusation made was a bit vague, and it had affectively directed the attention away from you and onto Felix. After another round of some serious investigating and threatening you all decided to skip.

“Corpse makes me feel less nervous about being an impostor,” you tell chat, “He seems so chill about it.” You ran down to Weapons, but decided against killing anyone when you found three people doing tasks there. You shoved yourself into the clump of bodies and waited until everyone had finished. Running back up to centre with both Lily and Rae, you felt restless that you would eventually have to kill one of them. You just hoped they wouldn’t take it personally.

Corpse ran past, alone. Your characters didn’t have eyes, but somehow they showed a mutual understanding. He killed Lily, you killed Rae. You sputtered and chortled and followed right on after him down into the venthole. He met you in the bathroom stall. “Cosy,” you joked. Until Grease walked in. “Oh, that’s awkward.” You realized you were still standing suspiciously over the venthole. “Shit.”

You didn’t know where Grease had gone, but your first instinct was to hit the red emergency meeting button in the Office. “Grease was in the bathroom stall hovering over a vent.” You may not have your fellow impostors emotionless tone, but you knew laughing through your accusation usually worked.

“Are you kidding me?! I just saw you and Corpse standing in there doing I don’t know what!” Grease yelled.

“That’s a bold statement. You know I’d never cheat on Sykkuno,” Corpse said. “Wait, what?” the man in question replied. Corpse ignored him.

“Corpse was with me when I found you there. On another note I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people vent at the same time before.” Two truths, technically.

“Alright, I’m voting Grease,” Felix said, “I’m sensing liar voice.”

Sykkuno suspected Grease and you, but promised he’d vote you out after if he was wrong. “We have to vote now,” you reminded them.

Grease was ejected.

You met Corpse again in laboratory, where only Felix was doing a task. No one moved. “Oh no, you may have the honours,” you gracefully called out to an unsuspecting impostor. He seemed to get the message through however, and swiftly killed Felix when the Kill button was set to press again.

Defeat.

 “Oh my god, that was so stressful,” you cried out. Corpse chuckled, “Don’t worry, you did great.”

“Hey, don’t you dare steal him,” Sean threatened, “He’s my impostor mate!” You laughed.

“You murdered me and Lily almost synchronically,” Rae sputtered, to which Sean added, “Oh my god, same here. It was some nasty psychic shit.” “Corpse and I just have the Shinigami eyes,” you explained. You saw Corpse’s name flash in the top left corner, but only heard him exhale in amusement. It was cute.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

“Oh… my… god.” Has this ever happened before in this game? Either way, no one will suspect both of you to be it again. You imagine he was feeling similarly, as he hadn’t moved from the spawn point yet. “How in the fuck…?” Chat was confused, but seemed to enjoy the spectacle.

You and corpse split up this time. Don’t use the same tactics twice.

You followed Felix and Sykkuno into Office and faked a task. They decided to wait for you, and you kept your eyes on the green bar until it moved. You travelled trough Admin and Decontamination until you met up with Lily in Labs. “Shit,” you murmured, “There’s too many people. I’m gonna look suspicious.”

Corpse showed up. Lily and Sykkuno left. You killed Felix. Toast walked in, and unfortunately at the hands of your teammate, he did become toast.

You ran in a circle around him and hoped it was enough of a hint for him to follow you. He picked up on it and followed you into the bathroom stall. But neither of you vented. You let a smile slip, almost forgetting you had a face cam. Awkwardly clearing your throat, you explained to your viewers in a very non-convincing way this was just a good impostor strategy. They’d do well to learn from it.

The bodies were reported instantly, and you cursed under your breath. Lily was the one who reported it. “So, I found Felix in Labs and there were only two other people in there before me and Sykkuno left.”

“I went down through Decontamination,” you explained, “I lost Corpse back at Labs.”

“I went back North, I passed you on the way there, Lily.”

Lily was sus of you. “What? Why?!” You asked. “Because I didn’t see anyone in Decontamination and there’s no way you could’ve gone through there that quickly. I wasn’t gone that long,” she said.

Well, shit. “Weren’t the lights off? You couldn’t possibly see me in Decontamination. I’m wondering why you walked back into Labs anyway, Lily.”

A series of ‘ooh’s were heard through the Discord call.

“But I was running up that hallway, I didn’t see you come out,” Grease suddenly spoke up.

“Why were you in there, Grease?” Corpse asked, but you knew it was already too late.

“I was running up to do my task in Labs. I didn’t see her come through the doors before the body was reported.”

“I wasn’t out of Decontamination yet,” you ground out. It was of no use, however. More than half of the people left voted you out, including Lily, Grease, Sean and Corpse, since he had an image to maintain as fake crewmember.

HeartEyes was ejected.

You decided, both out of your own interest and for content’s sake, to follow Corpse as a ghost. He seemed to be having the same trouble as you, suddenly being surrounded by a group of people. “That’s rough. He’s gonna have to kill five more people.”

That was when he bravely decided to take action. Sabotage the reactor, follow everyone there, jump into the lump of people trying to fix the problem and kill so no one would know who did it. He self-reported it in the blink of an eye.

The group was indeed confused, to say the least. Grease had died. “Wait, who was the last to come in?” Sean asked. “It was me,” Corpse admitted, “But I did the handprint scan because no one else was doing it. Weren’t you standing there doing that with Lily?” “Yeah, I had to wait because it wasn’t working.”

“What?!” Lily exclaimed, in only a way she could, “I was doing the scan! It was Sean, then!” The two suspects were starting a heavy discussion, whilst your eyes were trained on the red of Corpse’s name.

The group decided to vote out Lily, as she was the one to report the last murder.

“Is he just… Killing the people who voted for me?” you muttered. Shaking your head, you continued, “Nah, it has to be coincidence.”

But then a body was found, and Corpse said he suspected Sean again. Was he actually working down the list? “Is he avenging me? That’s so sweet, no one has ever done that for me before…” Just a video game, you had to remind yourself. It was just a video game you were playing with friends. And a man with a very nice voice who’d just murdered everyone who did you wrong. Just a game, yes.

Turns out, Corpse really knew how to put his voice to use, as Sean was ejected. He managed to kill Sykkuno and Dave after that, and the game was won by the imposters.

“AGAIN?!” Felix yelled, “How did you two get teamed up again?!” “That’s bullshit,” Sean laughed.

You smiled, as Corpse said, “Us Shinigami’s have to stick together.” It made you blush. “Thanks for avenging me, Corpse. That was very sweet of you.” He chuckled, “Any time. I don’t mind killing people when I have a good teammate.”

“Hey! I’m still here too, you know!” Sean yelled upset.

“It was really fun playing with you guys,” you said, stretching your arms. You’d already been streaming for three hours, it was time to go. Everyone said goodbye, but you didn’t hear Corpse. And you wished it hadn’t twisted your stomach in the way it did.

You wished your viewers a nice day, and promised to update them on Twitter when you’d be streaming next. You were done for the day.

Yet, as you’d closed all tabs and were about to close Discord, you got a call. It was private, and it was from Corpse.

“Hey, miss me already?” you jokingly said.

He chuckled quietly. He suddenly seemed a lot shyer now, being extracted from the group. “Nice game.”

“Yeah, you really know how to keep your emotions hidden. I was impressed, to say the least.”

“You were really good, too. I can appreciate a good imposter.”

You bit your lip. “Hm, I hope to see some more of that appreciation in the future. It was rather nice having someone avenge me.”

“I’d do it again any time. Hiding in the toilet was a good strategy, by the way.”

You snorted at that, “Not good enough, it seems. They voted me out.”

“Big mistake. Nobody kills my teammate.”

“Aww, did the Shinigami catch feelings for the human?”

He rumbled, “I thought you weren’t human?”

You didn’t comment on the fact that he’d failed to answer the original suggestion you’d made. “Touché.”

It was quiet for a moment, and you wondered if you’d crossed a line there and made the wrong assumptions about where the conversation was going. You quickly added, “Are you playing again this week?”

“Yeah, Sean said they’d stream again this Thursday.”

“I suppose I’ll see you there, then.”

He hummed. You sensed there was more to it, though. He hadn’t made any indication he wanted to end the call yet. But then he finally said, “I hope we get teamed up again. So you can get your own revenge.”

“I hope so too.”

***

Might do a follow up to this oneshot, if anyone asks for it. Will definitely create more for Corpse, he’s a lot of fun to write.