#i lied this is for my friend not anon lmao

[septembersghost]

Didn't you get bullied for AdJaCeNcY 😭

bestie i got death threats, i got put on a LIST of evildoers for daring to let my mutuals exist and have fun while i mind my business, and all those years ago richard siken could've solved that with today's tweets. peace and love on planet earth

[whimsicalcotton]

Hey, I’m the anon who sent that ask a while ago about sharing the polluted marrow (tm) brainrot, and I’m currently doing my reread. I’ll share my thoughts on each chapter here since I’ve been meaning to post a review on my ao3 account anyways. Sorry if this gets a bit too long-winded/rambly or has typos!

For chapter 1, the opening line hits SO hard. Max is next to Chloe before she’s falling, this isn’t a case of her fingertips barely grazing and falling short. This is Max desperately grabbing a hold of her entire world and not being strong enough to keep her there. Which is WOW, what an analogy. Then, with her photographer’s eye, a snapshot of the moment is etched into her brain, the newest of a long list of failures. The line, “Max glares down at the waves, and prays that Chloe washes up somewhere far, far away from here” is so evocative. Even though she’ll reverse it in a few seconds, even though she won’t get to see it, even though it’ll mean less than nothing, Max still wishes Chloe gets out of Arcadia Bay in at least one timeline. 

When she starts limping back through Blackwell’s campus, the fact that no one truly reaches out to help her is really telling. This was the same school that (nearly) drove Kate to suicide and it shows. She’s bleeding from her face, is visibly injured, and no one takes action. It really speaks to how deteriorated Max’s mental state is that she acknowledges how messed up her everything is but all she focuses on is saving Rachel and everyone else. "Uhm, no the fuck you don't," from Rachel got a startled huff of amusement from me ngl because that’s such a genuine retort of equal parts confusion and rebuke. Max is so Focused on making a plan she forgets Rachel’s closest friend is Chloe and their reunion is pretty much the polar opposite of how either wanted it to go.

And the nightmare transition OH BOY. It’s small, but “You're almost more trouble than you're worth” “Almost” captures Jefferson’s sliminess perfectly. Even without knowing she has powers, Chloe still calls her Super Max, which must be a huge wake-up slap to the face. When Rachel intervenes during their hug, it gave me huge “You, Me, and Steve” vibes even though that was probably unintentional lol. Max keeping Chloe in a death grip (oof) as she pulls away is just D:. Chloe, taking in her childhood best friend, now bedraggled to an extreme degree, questioning how she ended up in such a state, barely holding it together. If she knew what Max thought, that “I hurt me. I brought this on myself. I deserve this”, I’m sure she would go on a rampage. The period between Chloe leaving the room and Joyce coming must’ve been around a few minutes, and Max manages to say two words, when in combination, paint a terrifying scene. Max agreeing to rest for the first time in subjective months only so she can “get back in fighting shape” makes me want to wring her neck like a rubber chicken because PLEASE let her sleep she deserves it :(((

POV switch to Rachel! The girl, the myth, the legend. Describing Chloe as “her big tough badass” is <3333. Y’know, I never thought about it, but hare is an appropriate animal for Max. I looked up the wiki article because I didn’t really know the difference between it and a rabbit, fun fact: “their young are able to fend for themselves shortly after birth”. If you use Max gaining powers as her metaphorical birth then yeah that tracks. Rachel only realizes how strange the whole situation is after she’s out of Max’s immense sobering gravity and back at the scene of the crime, so to speak. When she talks to Victoria and Kate, the line “She wouldn't stand a chance” about the latter leaves the unsaid as “against Jefferson/another predator looking to take advantage”. The various strangers accosting Rachel about Max’s appearance is another strike against Blackwell’s populace. Her recontextualization of her entire relationship with Jefferson as she leaves asap with rage stirring was great.

Chloe, oh Chloe. Her dream conversation with her father coming to the exact same conclusion as Rachel, that Max is a hare running away from something, is very interesting. Visuals of the storm peppered throughout are making me very Concerned. And Max writing letters filled with remorse for being a lackluster best friend is what Chloe wants! Or rather, what she wanted, but not at the cost of Max’s well being. Even after all those years apart, she still refers to Max as her best friend which ueueueueueue. The juxtaposition of Max witnessing Chloe dying and saving her while Chloe watches Max nearly bleed out and not being able to do very much is striking. Chloe coming to the misguided realization just as she was without Max, Max was without her, hurts. In contrast, her familiarity with Rachel allows her to step in when she’s doing something self-destructive. “If she tries hard enough, Chloe can almost pretend that everything is fine” which is such a mood honestly. The ending of the first chapter was such a doozy when I first read it, because I was really up at 3 am, squinting at my dim screen, bundled under a thick blanket on my bed, reenacting Zuko as he inspected a scroll wondering where the rest of the text was. Was an experience, loved it.

I’m sorry if this was way more summary than analysis, everything was awesome and makes me feel emotions in a way hard to articulate through text. I’ll try to send the ask for the next chapter faster if you want!! Thanks for writing :D

hello anon!! first off don't worry about being rambly bc i when i opened my inbox and saw this i turned into this gif of kermit

and also don't worry about being articulate bc after like twenty minutes of trying to come up with a nice proper response to this all i have is: !!!! sdfksjfhsksdfkhjk :0c ohhh my god thank you thank you <3 <3

[mothhball]

Dark! Tom (from the party) has had a thing for Janet and Bill’s barely legal neighbor for so long. So at their party, while everyone else is drunk and too oblivious, Tom follows her outside and ((;

THE PARTY FAVOR

DARK!TOM X FEM!READER

summary Tasked with congratulating Janet in your parent's name, you head over to hand over a party favor. But a bottle of champagne isn't the only thing that's being thirsted over tonight.

warnings Tom is a little gross in this lmao. But it's Dark!Tom, so what do you expect 🥴💦 Big age difference!! (Reader is freshly 18, Tom is in his late thirties) P in V , unprotected, hints of drug use, foul language, alcohol consumption, cheating

notes Whoops, this got a little longer than I planned! my last little gift before I go on vacation lmao <3 tysm for requesting this, anon! I had fun writing this! Please turn a blind eye to any mistakes, I'm tired aaaaa

! MINORS DNI !

main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 2.9k

“God, I haven’t seen you in years.”

You tense up at the voice, turning around to stare at a familiar face. You were just in the middle of hyping yourself up to even knock on the door when said door opened, leaving you unprepared and caught off-guard like a deer in the headlights. But it’s not the person you expected. No, instead of the expected Janet, her friend April is staring back at you, throwing a wrench into your plans. See, you’re here on a mission. A mission with easy instructions.

Your parents left a bottle of champagne and a greeting card on the counter before they went to the theater, asking you to head over to your neighbors Bill and Janet to congratulate them on Janet’s ministerial appointment. But now, you’re already going off-course.

“April… lovely to see you,” you smile at her, nodding down towards the gift you brought. But before April can respond, Janet’s voice can be heard from inside.

“Who is it?”

“Your neighbor. The little one. Well, not so little anymore.” April gives you a once-over, not even pretending to be cordial with you. In a way, it’s admirable of her. She never bends over backwards to please people, and she definitely has no trouble speaking her mind. If only she wasn’t such a fucking hater.

Janet joins her in the doorway, looking at you with an expression that’s both relieved and distressed. If you’re the deer in the headlights, she’s the deer that has already made acquaintance with the hood of a bulky SUV.

“Oh, what a surprise. I didn’t expect you to come over, honestly. So lovely to see you. How are your parents?” Janet begins, raising her voice a little to drown out an argument that’s happening inside. You can see the forced smile, the exhaustion in every line on her face. And then, to both April’s and your surprise, Janet invites you inside with a wave of her hand. This wasn’t the plan. Not at all. You’re supposed to hand over the bottle and card and leave. Leave. Going inside the damn house definitely wasn’t part of your instructions.

“Uhm… Look, Janet, if this is a bad time –“ You try to decline, only to be cut off by the hostess of the party.

“No, no. Don’t be silly. Please, come in.” She notices your skeptical glance past her into the house, realizing that, despite her best efforts, you must’ve heard the last syllables of the argument that happened in the living room. Still, Janet puts on a brave face, desperate to play the part of the overjoyed, newly elected minister. The silence between you drags on for a few more seconds before she steps aside to make the invitation even more clear.

“Please,” she repeats, and this time it sounds like a plea you’re too polite to ignore.

The house feels off. You've been over a few times before, and the place has never once felt this… depressing. The living room reeks of misery, and you get the feeling that you stumbled into something you shouldn't be a part of. But now you're here, still clutching the bottle of champagne and the greeting card. There's a little stain on the red envelope, caused by your clammy hands digging into the paper, but you just assume that Janet won’t care.

You’re proven right when she takes the gift from you, only to immediately set the card aside in favor of opening the bottle of champagne. As she pours enough glasses for everyone, she tentatively tries to make conversation.

“I heard it was your birthday? You’re 18 now, aren’t you? God, what an age… So young. And so full of joy…” she trails off for a moment, and you witness in real time how her expression falls and twists into something pained and dejected. Then she catches herself and clears her throat, quickly replacing her sullen demeanor with something more cheerful. A typical politician.

“Well, happy belated birthday.”

Everyone else is stuck in their own thoughts, quietly muttering their congratulations, and you’re once again reminded why you never join the celebrations whenever your parents receive an invitation from Janet. You grace the group with a tight-lipped smile, downing your glass of champagne and accepting a refill.

The slam of the bathroom door almost causes you to drop your drink, and as you look up, you’re met by the sight of Tom stomping back into the room. You pause, unable to stop your eyes as they rake across his form, taking in the tension that has captivated every cell in his body. His forehead is covered by a thin layer of sweat, and his usually neat hair is tousled, plucked apart by skittish hands. You also don’t miss the way he hurriedly rubs the tip of his finger over his gums.

Tom clears his throat, straightening his ridiculously expensive suit jacket as he approaches you, and he meets your gaze with a look of recognition in his baby blues. Out of everyone in this dreadful group of characters, it’s him you get along with the most. At least you did, back when you last spoke and the air didn’t feel as thick as fucking tar. Something about Tom’s arrival only causes the tension to worsen, and you flinch as Janet’s hand lands on your shoulder.

“And your parents? Going on vacation, are they?”

You blink at her, taking a moment to digest the absolute whiplash this entire situation is giving you. This feels hellish, in a way. As if you’ve wandered into your own spinoff of Dante’s Inferno, desperate to crawl out of this ring of hell and back to your room to try and forget this ever happened.

“Yeah… They’re leaving for Italy in two days. Turin. For three weeks.”

Janet nods, looking absent as you answer the question she asked in the first place, and you awkwardly sip on your glass as she starts a new topic without acknowledging your response. You can feel Tom seething next to you as Janet speaks, radiating a nasty energy that’s seemingly directed at the host, sitting not too far away on a chair in the middle of the room. Tom’s jaw clenches, and you can practically hear how his teeth grind together.

Finally, he snaps.

“Are we going to pretend that nothing happened? Are we seriously going to pretend that Bill didn’t fuck my wife?”

The room immediately falls silent, and your eyes almost pop out of your head. So that was the topic of the earlier argument. You look at him, and he scoffs, turning away from the group.

“God, I –“ He cuts himself off, running his hands through his hair and down his face as if he’s trying to wipe the turmoil and exhaustion off his skin. Obviously, to no avail. “I need some air.”

Some minutes pass, and you feel incredibly out of place as another argument starts within the group, only getting worse with every glass of champagne—and now wine—that’s being chugged by everyone involved. You clear your throat, trying make yourself known.

“I should go as well. Uhm… it’s been nice. Congrats again, Janet.”

The woman in question doesn’t even notice that you’re slinking away from the party, too busy glaring daggers into her husband while Bill is talking about Marianne, Tom’s beautiful wife. Good lord, you’ve never felt more relieved to leave someone’s home.

Outside, you march through the small backyard, heading straight to the little gate that separates your property from your neighbor’s, and you’re almost back within your comfort zone when a voice stops you.

“Hey. Come… Come here for a moment.” You look over your shoulder, spotting Tom as he’s leaning against the wall next to the dustbins, head in his hands. Torn between your desire to leave and the empathy you feel for the man, you hesitate for a breath before you approach him.

“Are you alright? I can’t imagine…”

Without answering, Tom lifts the lid off one of the dustbins, revealing a gun sitting pretty among the trash. You can feel the blood draining from your face, and you recoil, breath hitching within your throat.

“Jesus Christ – “

“Shh, shh! I know. Just –“ Tom cuts himself off, raising his hands in an effort to calm you down. When you’re just looking at him instead of running, he lets out a sigh of utter devastation. “You know I can’t do this. And I won’t, but... I… I found out this morning that Bill…”

He shakes his head, unable to finish his sentence, and your heart twists a little as you see the tears welling up in his eyes. In an attempt to comfort him, you reach out to set a gentle hand on his shoulder, which causes him to crumble even more. Tom lets out a choked scoff, shaking his head as his anger grows alongside the grief and disappointment.

“And I’ve always been faithful! I never cheated on Marianne! Even though I’ve had plenty of opportunities! Even… God, even with you around, I’ve always… always kept a grip on myself.”

He sniffles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, before he meets your eyes again, and you startle. There’s still anger in his eyes. But another emotion has joined in as well, filling his gaze with something dark and hungry that causes you to pull your hand back again.

Suddenly, you’re very aware of your situation.

“I’m sick of pretending. Sick of denying myself. I’m a man too, god damnit.”

He’s quick to snatch you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in against his frame. You know you should struggle. You should tell him off. But you’d be a liar if you claimed that he had never once crossed your mind late at night. Tom is the kind of man who inspires your hands whenever you touch yourself. His face is the one you imagine hovering above yours when you’re knuckle-deep in your pretty little pussy.

“Wait, I –“ You try to speak, but he’s quick to maneuver you up against the wall, pressing you against brick and mortar and trapping you in place with his body.

“No. I’ve waited long enough.” He grits his teeth, catching both your wrists to pin them behind yourself over the small of your back and hold them in place with one of his larger hands. “Do you know how hard it was? To see you prancing around… I was always scared you’d have a boyfriend when you turned 18. Lucky me.”

You swallow hard, letting out a squeak as his free hand reaches around to pull up your shirt and bra, revealing your soft skin to the mild air and his eager fingers. Tom rolls one of your nipples between his pointer and thumb, tugging the hardening bud before he moves onto the next one, and you can hear how shaky his breath is getting as he continues to grope your tits. You squirm at a particularly harsh tug, causing him to press you up further against the wall, immobilizing you completely as he undoes his belt and zipper.

His deft hands take care of your jeans and panties next, opening them and pulling them down as much as he needs to gain access to your sweet cunt.

“Tom…” you whine, feeling the head of his cock brushing up against your dripping slit. He grunts in response, not bothering to hear you out as he sinks his length into your velvety folds, causing his breath to shudder against the shell of your ear. You wince, letting out a soft noise of discomfort as he pushes deeper, rolling his hips against yours to set a shallow rhythm.

“You can take it. Look at how fucking wet you are. You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?”

You want to protest, but right as you open your mouth, he aims a rough thrust up against that delicious sweet spot within your cunt, luring a filthy noise from your lips that only spurs him on even more. Tom still has your arms restrained, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he stretches you open on his cock, getting your tight walls used to his girth.

His fingers push into your mouth, middle and ring pressing down on your tongue to make you gag and whimper simultaneously. Every time he shoves his fingers deeper, your body tenses and drool dribbles down your chin, right onto your exposed tits. It’s rough and fast, overwhelming you in more ways than one. Tom grunts into the crook of your neck, panting against your skin like a man possessed only by the desire to claim, to mark, to own.

The wedding ring still sitting around his finger clinks against your teeth, and you cringe, letting out a soft whine of discomfort that’s quickly shushed by the man behind you.

“Shh… Just be a good girl for me, yeah? Fuck, you squeeze my cock so well when you gag on my fingers…”

He pounds his hips against yours in quick, deep thrusts, fucking his cock into your cunt at an angle that makes your toes curl and your knees buckle. In that moment, you’re grateful that he chose to take you against the brick wall since you’re heavily relying on the structure and Tom’s grip on you to stay upright.

“And you’re so sweet… You don’t care about my job, right? No, you don’t. You’re not like Marianne. Always being so fucking sentimental on her high horse.”

He spits out the words, silencing any further comments from himself by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The rhythm of his thrusts quickens as he chases his high, and his hand finally releases your wrists to instead reach between your thighs to rub insistent circles around your clit. The sudden jolt of pleasure draws a wail from your lips, and Tom pulls his fingers free from your mouth to instead stifle any noises more effectively with the palm of his hand. His mouth is next to your ear, allowing you to hear every rasp of his breath and the subtle whine of his voice.

“You’re going to cum for me, right? You’re going to finish nice and quietly like a good girl on my cock, hm? Yes, you are.”

He uses his grip over your jaw to make you nod, and he hums in approval as he meets your hazy eyes. Slowly, the pace of his fingers on your clit builds into a crescendo, and his gaze never once strays away from your face. Like a man dying of thirst, Tom drinks in every twitch in your expression, every breathy groan that’s muffled by his hand. He leans in to rest his forehead against yours right as you cream all over his length, twitching while he fucks you through your climax. Groaning, he removes his hand from your jaw to hold onto the flesh of your hips, pistoning into your fluttering cunt even faster, harder, more desperately.

Finally, his thrusts grow erratic, and he pulls out of you at the very last second, reaching for your panties to shoot his thick cum all over the soft fabric. Tilting his head back, he swallows hard as he milks himself dry with a few more pumps of his hand before he releases his grip on you. You slump against the wall, trying to catch your breath while Tom straightens out his appearance.

“This was… worth the wait,” he pants out, reaching into his pocket to pull out a marker. He kneels down, holding onto your knee, while he writes his phone number on the inside of your thigh, marking your skin with the black ink.

“Text me when your parents are in Venice. Or Turin. Or wherever the fuck they’re going.”

You nod back at him, whispering a small "alright,"  which makes him pause. He gets back up to his feet, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before he takes off his wedding ring and drops it into the dustbin right next to the gun. Your eyes meet again, and his expression softens for a split second before he leaves to get back into the house, throwing himself back into the dreadful party and leaving you behind to walk back home with shaky legs and sticky underwear.

Two days later, your parents finally leave for their trip. You follow them to the doorstep, watch with baited breath as luggage is crammed into the family car and the GPS is set up. Then, after the exchange of hugs and goodbyes; after your mom hands you 50 quid as an extra allowance and she waves to you out of the window as your dad starts the motor, they drive off and leave you alone. The house feels dreadfully empty as you close the door and lean against the frame. A minute goes by. Then another.

Eventually, you reach for your phone and open the contact you shouldn’t have saved.

“I’m home alone.”

Sent. Received. Read. For a moment, there’s nothing. You bite the nail of your thumb, grappling with the possibility that he regrets what happened and is now trying to avoid you. And maybe that would be for the best. Maybe you’d be able to move past it and make peace with the fact that you’ll never be able to feel those hands on your skin again. But then those little dots pop up. He’s typing. He’s responding.

“Good girl. I’m coming over.”

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

@hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @nocturnest @biblicallyaccuratebee @red-riding-wood

@luvlloyd @smxkyqvxrtz @bloodandglitter207 @rosiemarieyn @sagepixie

@paradiseprincesss @vegasisthinking @ilovedottore @cillianslvt @strangeobsessed

@ryecosse @ribbonystar @calicoartie

[runningfrom2am]

requiem // part one

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: hi again! obligatory note to say sorry i didn't update a couple days ago i meant to but i got hit by a car and then i was working lmao (i'm fine but the ao3 curse did in fact find me)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

"Mister Snow." Coriolanus's head jerks up at his name from where it was resting against his palm, nearly having fallen asleep by the side of your bed. You were out cold and had been for close to a week now, but part of him hoped he would be there when you eventually stirred.

"We have to ask you to leave now, but you can come back tomorrow after seven," The nurse tells him, a sympathetic smile on her face. This was the sixth night in a row they'd had this exact conversation.

"Of course, thank you," he grumbles as he stands up, rubbing his eyes.

"How is your mentorship going?" she asks, just for the sake of making conversation. "It is very exciting. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks..." he hums, hand sliding over his jaw in slight discomfort. He had little to no interest in his tribute. It was clear Lucy Gray had no shot at winning, and he had an even smaller shot at the Plinth Prize thanks to her. Now, he could hardly even stomach looking at her. "The Songbird," as everyone called her. 

In reality, his best friend had been forgotten the moment Lucy Gray Baird set foot on that stage in District Twelve and began to sing, and he loathed her for it. The way that all eyes turned to you next to him during the reaping as soon as his tribute's lips parted and began to sing made his stomach turn even now.

Coriolanus's eyes parted from the screen to look over at you, a small teasing smile on his face as he reached out to nudge you with his elbow when instead he was met with an expression of horror on your face. He could see the way your neck tensed as you swallowed hard, and he looks around to see almost everyone else's eyes on you as well for just a moment at a time, stealing glances in your direction.

Your jaw tightens while you grind your teeth together. She was good. But you were better at masking your discomfort with the whole situation, looking down to smooth out your black skirt where it lay across your lap and ignoring all the eyes that had fallen on you.

"It's going well," he lies in response.

"I'm glad to hear that. She's got a real talent, that girl," She smiles, and Coriolanus knows she's not trying to take a jab at the girl lying unconscious a few feet away, but he couldn't see it any other way. "Well, best of luck to her. And you, of course."

"Thanks. Have a good night," Coriolanus replies almost under his breath, taking a final glance at you fast asleep in the cold-looking hospital bed, neck bandaged down to your bruised shoulders before he leaves for the night.

It's sunny out when Coriolanus makes his daily trek to the Capitol Zoo to feed his tribute, and his academy uniform feels heavier on his shoulders than what he's used to.

His tribute smiles as she gets up and brushes off the front of her rainbow dress, making her way over to the bars to greet him. "Good afternoon, Coriolanus. Doin' well today?" she asks as he gets closer, already digging into his bag for the food he brought her.

"Fine," he mumbles in response, holding the folded napkin out to her that contains a cookie he took from the academy lunchroom.

"Thank you," Lucy Gray says as she takes it, unfolding the small cloth from around it and taking a bite. Chewing on it, she looks up at him again, taking note of the bags forming under his blue eyes. "I'm sorry about your friend."

His eyes flick from the cookie she was eating back up to hers, a slight glare behind them as he swallows stiffly. "Yes, well, she's alive," he tells her, looking back down as she breaks the cookie in half and holds it out to him.

"No, thank you," he shakes his head, pushing her hand away with his own.

"You should eat. You look like you need the energy," she says sympathetically.

He sighs because she's probably right. He takes it from her hand carefully, already breaking off a piece. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Lucy Gray knew their little routine by now. It was obvious when he brought her food the first time that he was going hungry. She had seen the signs enough back home to recognize it even here, hidden within what was supposed to be the endless opulence of the Capitol.

"Would you like to talk about it?" she asks as he begins to chew the tiny piece of the cookie, mindful of chewing and swallowing it slowly. He looks up at her again, confusion in his eyes. "Your friend, I mean." she explains.

"No." he answers quickly, shaking his head.

His semi-hostile response only leads Lucy Gray to believe that this girl she had seen get attacked meant something to him. Though, she already knew that when they walked into the zoo arm-in-arm like birds of a feather minutes before the girl was attacked, and her mentor had to be dragged away from her by Peacekeepers when a medical team finally arrived.

"Will you tell me about her?"

"About Y/N?" he asks, eyes softening just a bit.

Lucy Gray nods in confirmation, a small smile on her lips as she urges him on.

"She, uh..." Suddenly he doesn't know where to start with you. Your parents' names are what would traditionally come first in the Capitol, but he knew that would mean nothing to the girl in front of him. That you were his best and only real friend? That you were a singer, too, just like her, but you would likely never sing another note again? "She's a singer in training for the Opera House on Presidential Way. She is... she was very good."

Lucy Gray's eyes light up as he speaks. "She was a singer?"

Coriolanus nods, putting his focus back into eating.

"She must have been amazing," Lucy Gray says, trying to make comforting conversation.

"She is," he corrects her quickly, disguising it as agreement, despite having been the one to refer to your singing abilities in the past tense.

"Of course." She agrees, a sympathetic smile on her face. "I didn't mean..."

"They are making some changes to the Games." He cuts her off, wanting to move on to avoid having to think about the current state of his best friend. It makes his heart sink and the accompanying dread causes that awful burning sensation behind his eyes that makes him want to cry. "So... you need to sing again. Get people to like you. Then I'll be able to send you things in the arena to keep you alive."

Lucy Gray seems hesitant, letting out a huff with the slight shake of her head, looking around before locking her eyes back on him. "I don't sing when I'm told. I sing when I have something to say."

Coriolanus is jarred by her statement, tilting his head a bit and clenching his jaw at the notion and her ferocity behind it. He can't help it when the sudden, stark difference between Lucy Gray and his best friend hits him like a thunderstorm coming in quick on a sunny day. 

She sang when she had something to say, you sang because you had to. This fact would keep him up at night for weeks.

The games had come and gone, and there had been no winner this year. Your tribute was shot dead the day she attacked you, and Dr. Gaul saw it as some kind of justice that after your assault, the bombing, and the deaths of your other classmates, the death of all those District kids would keep their home districts from rebelling. From seeing the Capitol as vulnerable, or something like that. You really couldn't care less. At least Felix and the twins were lucky enough to have succumbed to their injuries.

The hospital was cold and dark at almost all hours of the day. You couldn't do a thing besides sit there and wait. For what, you weren't even sure.

"She's not having a good day today," The nurse informs Coryo as he checks in to visit you. He comes by every day, sometimes multiple times a day to see you, and you have your good and bad days. He's well used to that by now.

"Has she eaten?" he asks, and the nurse shakes her head.

"Refused to touch anything we brought her," She sighs, but she's fighting back a smile, which makes him raise an eyebrow at her. Why would she be smiling at that?

"She will be able to go home tomorrow," She smiles, hearing the question he never verbalized. "I thought you might like to tell her."

"Oh... I see," Coryo hums, looking down the hall toward the staircase he would soon take to get to you.

"You don't seem pleased," She states quizzically, her grin fading.

"Why is she going home?" He asks. "She still can't even speak."

The nurse looks down, pursing her lips. "As the doctor mentioned, there's no guarantee that she will ever get her voice back. I'm sorry, truly, but there's nothing more we can do for her here. It's better that she's home with her family recovering somewhere more comfortable."

"Right," He swallows, nodding curtly at her. "Thank you," He replies simply, brushing past the nurse's station to go down to your room. 

He can always hear it before he sees it, the echo of opera music cycling through your favorite records time and time again, filling the quiet hall with something pleasant as soon as he opens the door from the stairwell.

"Y/N," You look up from where you're sitting in the corner, tilting your head at him. Coryo smiles as he walks in, and you wish you were in a better mood, to be a better host; as good of one as you could be when you were in the hospital and couldn't speak a single word to him. "How are you feeling?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

You shake your head, a pout forming on your lips. The flowers people had brought you in your first couple of weeks were wilting, and then they stopped bringing them. Your whole life you had been praised for your voice; since you were six years old, the Capitol had seemingly been buzzing with hope for your future. You would be the most beautiful, accomplished singer Panem had ever seen - no one doubted it, but within weeks you had been completely forgotten. Replaced by the image of the girl who had sung at the reaping and once in an interview. Your room was quite a sad reflection of this, and you spent every minute of every day forced to wallow in it.

"Bad day?" Coryo asks anyway, but you just shrug, looking out the window at your sad view of the city that had abandoned you.

"Well, I've got some good news," He says, which draws your attention. You tilt your head at him, gesturing in a circular motion with your hand for him to go on.

He laughs, putting his bag down on your empty and perfectly made bed. "One second, here. In case you have questions." He pulls the small chalkboard out from the drawer next to your bed, holding it out to you with a piece of white chalk. You scrunch up your nose and wave rapidly for him to put it back. He knew it would bug you, that's why he did it, recalling the day he brought it for you and you almost threw it at him.

"I HATE writing with chalk," You scribbled quickly on a napkin with a pen you stole from his pocket, throwing the napkin at him and crossing your arms.

"What? Why?" Coryo laughed, dropping the crumpled piece of soft paper on the table next to your bed.

You shook your head, pursed your lips, and looked up, trying to find a way to explain the awful sensation without saying it. He watched you patiently as you thought, until you pretended to hold a piece of the white substance in between your thumb and forefinger, dragging it down the air slowly and pretending to gag. You shook your head again in disgust, waving your hand at him.

"Oh, I didn't know you felt so passionately about this," He drags the chalk down over the board, and you cringe, covering your ears. Coryo couldn't help but think that was just about the cutest thing he had ever seen.

That had been one of your good days, even though at the time your scar was still so fresh it was bandaged, and you were littered with bruises down to your ribs. The room was littered with fallen flower petals by now, yes, but also with what must be hundreds of notes you had shown to Coryo to express yourself in the only way you still could.

That memory still makes you smile, even if you do absolutely hate chalkboards. You walk past him and grab your notebook off the same table, picking it and the pen up as dramatically as you possibly can before sitting down on the bed and looking up at him.

"What?" He asks, just to tease you, and you roll your eyes.

'Get on with it. Also, you're not funny, and I hate you,' You write, turning the page to face him so he could read it.

"Oh, do you?" He chuckles, sitting down next to you.

You smack his arm with the book, motioning again that he should just spit it out.

"Okay! Okay, fine," He sighs emphatically, placing his hands on his thighs and looking down at the floor, just for a few moments to drive you more up the wall before turning his gaze to you. "They told me that you're going home tomorrow."

You open your mouth to speak, suddenly forgetting that you can't. You quickly shut your jaw, furrowing your brow and shaking your head. 'Why?' You mouth to him, neglecting the pad of paper in your lap.

He reads your lips, frowning at your lack of excitement. He was hoping you would be looking forward to it, but he knew you wouldn't be. Not really. "They said there isn't anything more they can do for you here, that you need to heal at home."

You stand up abruptly, throwing the paper down on the ground and clutching the pen so tight that Coryo fears it might shatter.

What do they mean "nothing they can do"? They could fix you, they could operate again, they could pump you so full of drugs that you could finally forget the hell that you're living in, that's what they could do. You couldn't even say that - or scream out your frustrations.

You turn back to Coryo, and the hurt look on your face crushes him. You want to speak to him so badly. Your lips fall open, and you try anyway. 'They're going to leave me like this?' You ask, but not a sound comes out. Not even so much as a whisper. Your throat burns regardless.

"I'm sorry," he says honestly, standing up and reaching out for you. You shake your head, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him. "Come here..." he says softly, already wrapping his arms around you as the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall. You can't even hug him back, hands clutched to your chest as you shake under his hold.

"If I could take this from you, I would," He mumbles, shaking his head and resting his chin on your head as he rubs your back. "I'm sorry, Y/N/N."

What he wouldn't give to be able to hear your voice again.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for taking a cross-country trip without telling my parents?

🔜🚇 for ID purposes, my friends will get it lmao

This is being submitted after the trip was taken, so it's in retrospect. I can live with being an asshole if I'm labeled one, I just had a lot of conflicting feelings preceding said trip, even if by now I don't regret it because it was fun. At this point I'm just curious!

I am 26yo and AFAB nonbinary. This is relevant.

During the first week of the year, I took a trip across the USA to go to a convention to meet up with some internet friends I am close to; some id met before, but most were mutuals/people I video chat with regularly.

My parents are extremely catholic. They're very suspicious about online friends in general (so much so I stopped talking to them about going online when I was in high school), and are very transphobic so I'm not out to them. Since I'm AFAB, they're very "oh be careful out there and NEVER do anything alone because it's DANGEROUS." Which feels like a load of crap to me; I'm taking a vacation, not going for a jaunt down a dark alley. My mother in particular is also very into conformity, so I've never told her about my con-going, fandom loving ways.

So I planned and went on this trip, entirely in secret, and lied the entire time I was there. And I had a genuinely great time, no regrets, and not once did I feel unsafe. I told my housemate (almost 26) my flight details and whereabouts so I had backup if needed, and figured that was fine on the safety front. Also I am financially independent, so none of their money was used.

The conflict: obvious I lied a lot. I know my parents would disapprove and would be so mad if they knew. A few of their ideas just center around me being safe, so I felt kinda bad, you know?

A lot of folks will see my age and say I can do what I want, but being brought up by overprotective Christians will indeed make realizing if you're being reasonable or not a whole lot harder! I'm also working on figuring out how to proceed in the future; I still talk to them bc of my elderly pets and extended family. It's complex to navigate. I wanna throw this one to tumblr to decide, I think it would be good to get some random perspective in here. I'll be replying to questions in the comments off anon once/if it's posted :)

So tumblr AITA for taking a secret trip that my parents would've disapproved of top-to-bottom and straight up lying about it?

What are these acronyms?

[softrozene]

Reacting to Dutch Wanting a Night with Their Girl

Anonymous requested: Okay, so, I’ve had this in my head for a while. Dutch is a gross old guy who likes pretty young ladies, right? Well, Arthur/John/Javier has this real cute and super affectionate little thing on his arm. What? They’re married/engaged/dating? No, it’s fine. He taught that boy how to read! Giving up his girl for a night isn’t that big of a deal, he’s sure asking them in the middle of camp will go well. 

rdr2 masterlist

ALJSFDASKL This is so long omg. Let me know if you wanted something specific or anything- Wasn’t too sure if it was a request but I had to give my input. This is how I thought they would react and lmao this was super fun. 

Originally published on January 5, 2021

Arthur, Javier, John x Female Reader

Warnings: Dutch is super gross in this - We don’t stan, we do stan the three who stick up for their girl, Dutch is vulgar - I really did Dutch dirty in this but it was bound to happen eventually.

Words: ~900

Okay, one thing they all share in common is if it were you saying that Dutch said something to you, they would all be hesitant. Like “Nah, he didn’t mean it that way” or “Are you sure he said that?” or “I’ll go talk to him”- Then they end up doubting you as Dutch lies his way out of it (Yes, they would sadly be the dudes that apologizes for their friend’s behavior too)

They are hesitant only because Dutch did offer them a chance as part of the family in the gang- He did give them a decent chance at life and as anon said- Taught them to read and write. They see him as someone they owe a great lot to- so if you suddenly talk bad about him, they will want to defend him, or he will point the blame at you

In other words, their loyalty to Dutch will for sure make them not believe you at first

However- If they witness it that is an entirely different story:

Charles wasn’t asked for, but I will say since he is not that close with Dutch other than respecting him for being treated well in the gang, he will straight-up knock out Dutch the second he hears anything vulgar- Or whether you inform him. You matter more than the gang and he will defend you

 Arthur Morgan-

You have been skittish lately. That does not sit well with Arthur since you are only skittish with Dutch around- He thinks it is just because you are shy and nothing else until-

Dutch- Sweet, old, crazy Dutch comes up to the both of you, more so looking at Arthur in an expecting way and asks for a night with you- With others as witnesses nonetheless?

All of you would be stunned-

Dutch has a fucking serious tone- Arthur will be frozen then just stare at him for the longest time

“Dutch- You drunk?”

“What? Son, I would never- I was simply asking a hypothetical ‘what if’ question since you have such a divine being hanging on your arm all the time. You can’t deny the chemistry we have when we look- Hey now, don’t give me that look, Son. You know I would only ask if it would benefit you-“

He would keep saying creepy things along those lines and Arthur just snaps

Either by straight-up punching him in the face- Tackling him- Anything, no one can pry him off of Dutch until he good and satisfied that this once honorable man he looked up to will never gaze upon you again in that creepy face

He loses all respect for Dutch and Dutch’s confidence with how he thought he could get Arthur’s girl for a night

Everyone is wary and on edge, but it is for the better

Molly probably opens up her eyes

 John Marston-

Dutch does not even have to say anything- John notices the looks he has been giving you and he does not like it one bit

Dutch would not go to him first- Instead, John would confront him in the middle of the camp and be like “You serious right now Dutch? Eyeing my woman when I am right here, and Molly is over there?”

Dutch will respond: “I ain’t touching- I am just looking.” Or “Can you blame me? Look at her.”

“That is low- Even for you Dutch”

If Dutch even tries to defend himself, be fancy with his words, or place the blame on you- You can bet John will not hold back- The boys will have to pry him off Dutch (after letting John get a few hits in because Dutch ain’t as sly as he thinks he is)

This really is one of the worse things John has seen and he won’t stand with it (depending on how much he cares about you tbh) Like if he sees you as his wife you bet, he is ready to ditch the gang again but with you this time

We’re pretending Abigail and Jack are in a healthy place- Not this universe lamflasd

 Javier Escuella-

I really hate to say this guys but the way Javier reacts depends on what chapter you are in- In the gang.

Before Chapter 5+6 he would react on your behalf-

“Dutch- Did you really ask if you can borrow mi amor?”

He is pissed- He is beyond livid, he will try to be calm and collected but that will not last long and he will act on your behalf demanding Dutch respects you

If this happens after 5 and during 6- He will really think about it

He already betrayed Arthur and John, the gang is falling apart, all he has is Dutch and you- So he will really consider it (but I doubt he would let Dutch go through with it)

After Chapter 6 though- He will not hesitate to cut a bitch Dutch

He realized that he really lost the family that had his back, and it is all because of Micah and Dutch so if Dutch has the gall to ask him after everything you all went through- It is on- He will fight for your honor and he will apologize constantly afterward for helping to ruin the family you both loved and shared

[metallicaislife]

What’s Your Fantasy?

A/N: I made a reference to one of my first fics. I saw the opportunity and took it lmao 🫡

Requested by: Anon

Genre: 18+ Smut minors dni

Word Count: 685

Warnings: Threesome, m x f x m pairing, oral(f and m receiving), taking pics during sex, drug use

I was hanging out with Cliff and James. Two of my best friends. We were sharing some of Cliff’s magic green and having a good time. I’m not sure what brought us to the topic, but we found ourselves talking about sex. 

“Okay, but seriously, what is one of your fantasies?” James asked me curiously. 

“I can answer and you aren’t going to judge me?” I followed up with a question. James rolled his eyes. 

“Duh. Are you going to judge her, Cliff?” James turned to Cliff who was sitting next to me. 

“Nope.” He responded, then took a hit off the joint. 

“Fine, okay. This stays here in this circle and dies in your memory tonight.” I started, “I have a fantasy where you two fuck me at the same time.” I said. I immediately regretted it. I should have said something else, anything else. I could have easily lied, but that weed was like a goddamn truth serum. They shared a look and I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole. “Well I’m gonna go.” I said standing up. 

“Sit down.” Cliff said in a commanding voice. I did as he said. I held my breath. 

“Funny, I’ve fantasized about having sex with her, but never sharing. Sounds fun though.” James said. 

“Very.” Cliff added. 

Before I knew what was happening, we were in James' room on his bed. I laid between Cliff’s legs with my head resting on his chest as he played with my breasts. 

James head between my thighs as he lapped at my cunt. 

“Oh fuck.” I moaned and fisted James' hair. 

I could feel Cliff’s erection poking my back. He shifted every once in a while rubbing his cock along my back. 

James slipped two fingers in me alternating between curling and scissoring them. I came moaning loudly. 

James looked up, he looked so hot with my slick all over his chin. He got up and went to the dresser, he put a condom on. He grabbed a camera and came back over. He knelt in front of me, lifted my hips with one hand and entered me. 

“So fucking hot.” He muttered and snapped a picture. 

“Lars wishes this is what was in his spank bank.” Cliff said and nibbled my shoulder. I giggled but it turned into a moan as James hit my g-spot. He pulled out.

“On your stomach.” James commanded me. “Cliff, hand me a pillow.” He said. I flipped around and Cliff handed him a pillow. James grabbed my shoulder pulling me up. He placed the pillow where he wanted and let me lay back down. The pillow under my hips so he had the perfect angle to fuck me. I took Cliff’s cock in my hand. I rubbed the precum that had leaked out rubbing it down his shaft. I licked the tip then took him in my mouth. I heard the camera click a couple more pictures before it was discarded. James gripped my hips as he snapped his hips into me unrelentingly. He reached around to rub my clit and I found it hard to focus on giving Cliff the head he deserved. Cliff’s fingers tangled in my hair as he helped guide me on his cock. 

“So cock drunk. Getting fucked and sucking. Such a pretty slut.” Cliff said. My glossy eyes met his as he smirked at me. Tears streamed down my face as I came. Cliff shoved my head down as far as I could go, coming down my throat. I could feel the condom expand inside me as James hips stilled. Cliff pulled my head up letting his cock fall from my mouth, he gingerly laid my head on his lap petting my hair as he lit a cigarette.  

“Fuck, you did so well.” James said as he rubbed my ass. “When you’re done, are you ready to swap?” I lifted my head as he spoke to Cliff. Cliff looked down. 

“Think you can give us two more orgasms sweetheart?” He asked. I nodded, knowing it would be so overwhelmingly great. 

“Good girl.”

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[linderosse]

I LOVE YOUR WIELDERS OF WISDOM COMIC!!!! i think its wonderful and so absolutely necessary (if u will excuse my feminism)... the art style is GORGEOUS and im just so grateful someone is giving love to all the zeldas <33

sorry that this is anon but. i dislike being perceived lmao

Thank you so much!!

And heck yeah on the representation front! I’m doing my best to write a variety of interesting characters that will help me tell the stories I want to tell. To me, the fact that they’re mostly women is both incidental and vitally important at the same time.

Tetra was my first Zelda, and I always loved her pirate captain badassery and no-nonsense attitude. I was a bit of a ‘tomboy’ (used in the non-insulting sense, simply referring to a girl who liked traditionally boyish hobbies/clothing) growing up, so I identified with Tetra real hard <3. Heckin’ loved her practical, forthright nature— and the way the games don’t hesitate to show her wackier side and how her actions sometimes get her in trouble— and how she gets out of it, with or without help.

And of course, girls can also be girly and get things done! Love the more traditionally feminine Zeldas as well; shirking feminine mannerisms definitely isn’t a requirement for a well-written female character. You can have a character wear a tiara, battle in a dress, and still be cool. Heck, you can have ’em don a soft gown, not fight at all, and still be an awesome character: maybe she genuinely wants good for the world, or maybe she controls the board with gentle magic and soft “feminine” persuasion to achieve her goals, turning foes into friends— or her pawns.

And characters don’t always have to succeed! Sometimes persuasion fails. Sometimes they argue with someone they know is right. Sometimes her sword falters. But that’s fine! That’s what makes for a good, realistic, fun character— that’s how humans are.

(continued under the cut)

See, I feel like some popular media is trending towards forcing women to be *exclusively* badass, almost flawless in their physical skill yet boyish in their mannerisms.

Like, as a random example: Peach in the Mario movie. Movie Peach no longer giggles and blows kisses, because that would be too girly. And Movie Peach is a perfect platformer and politician, because female empowerment. Same thing with Galadriel in RoP (and it’s honestly a bit different and way worse with RoP Galadriel, because her mother-name is Nerwen which translates to man-maiden and she is canonically a tomboy, but they write it so badly in RoP that not even the rest of the characters in the show respect her for her over-the-top ‘female badassery.’) And as a huge, longtime fan of both the Mario series and the Silmarillion, it kinda hurt to see those Mary Sue-esque, somewhat shallow depictions of what should be complex characters.

Now, the thing is: one or two perfect characters like that are just fine! The problem lies in the fact that many of these shows have only a few female characters to begin with, and they’re all like that. Peach is kinda alright, but Galadriel’s major flaws are barely even shown because the writing has to try to make her look badass even when she’s making objectively terrible decisions.

Because here’s the thing— depicting only perfect women and minimizing flaws isn’t supporting female empowerment. Girls have flaws too, folks. Popular media relying only on the immaculate femme fatale badass just makes for a more cliche story, and imposes higher standards on young girls who look up to these characters. And the forced boyishness forces standards as well.

Why can’t Peach flutter her eyelashes, giggle, and still knock bad guys on their asses? Or, better yet, why can’t Peach flutter her eyelashes, giggle, knock bad guys on their asses, help Mario out, also get helped by Mario, and maybe admit that it took practice for her to get to where she is now?

That’s how she used to be in the middle Mario era, like Super Mario RPG, Thousand Year Door, and Super Paper Mario. Peach was feminine and still relatable to a young tomboy like myself.

I’ve rambled on for far too long, but anyways, that’s what I’m gonna try to do here with the Wisdomverse: tell stories of a bunch of different types of people, where each of them has their own take on what it means to be Zelda.

I can’t promise I’ll be perfect at writing this either, honestly. Perhaps I’ll fall into some of the same traps— I’m sure it’s hard to avoid them.

And perhaps my thoughts on this will evolve over time as well, and I’ll later have an even better understanding of how to write the characters I want to write.

Either way, I’ll certainly do my best!

Tl;dr: I got really sidetracked, but thank you for the kind message! Glad to hear you’re enjoying Wielders of Wisdom; hope to keep building my characters into interesting and at least somewhat complex women as things progress :)

[obstinaterixatrix]

Do u know any good mob psycho 100 fanfics?? Or authors??

well obviously my sister but I’m guessing you’re the same anon so 1) you already know her fics 2) you want different recs from what’s on her list (some of them being fics I rec’d to her lol). recs will skew heavily seri/rei and I’m just going through my bookmarks so it’s gonna be most recently read to oldest read. also seconding sister’s recs of bobmoss and crookedturtle. but I’ll add a fic from each anyway because I already wrote something for one while I was drafting this (oops)

Recollection by CowardlyBean

This is the journal of missing 31 year old Reigen Arataka, distributed with permission from friends and family. The version presented in this document has been kindly edited with added commentary by a loyal customer of his. -Editor’s Note

gen, experimental and in progress at 14k so definitely deserves more love than it’s getting. inspired by house of leaves; as the summary says, it’s some rando writing annotations about reigen’s journal, but Something Weird Is Going On. the 4th chapter updated so I actually need to catch up. also, sister rec’d this fic to me

Like Acid Reflux, or Love by partingxshot

Dating Reigen is like dating a single dad—only with more children, weirder scruples, and an extreme ruthlessness vis-à-vis group takoyaki discounts. He's not hot enough for this.

OR: "Me, You and Steve" by Garfunkel and Oates but with fifteen million teenagers.

OR: Outsider POV exploring Reigen’s dedication to his gaggle of bizarre children through an ill-fated dating attempt.

OR: Serizawa gets bruxism.

gen(/pre-relationship seri/rei), oneshot, 7k. oc/reigen breakup lmao. extremely funny concept, extremely good execution

Dream Dial by Alakazamboni

For the better part of nine years, Arataka has proudly worked in customer service at a behemoth of a company. At least, that's what he remembers, but a strange illness and a mysterious caller keeps trying to convince him otherwise. It doesn't help that this caller has the power to distort reality.

seri/rei, in progress, 16k. great uncanny atmosphere, and also reigen is trapped in time prison as a miserable office worker. hasn’t been updated for a while but read it anyway, the stoping point is fine

What We Make by crookedturtle

Reigen and Tome are kidnapped from the Spirits and Such office to be used as leverage against Mob. They have two goals: to contact the outside world, and keep each other safe. In doing so they engage in a dangerous game of lies and manipulation with their captors—a game with potentially deadly consequences.

gen (bg seri/rei), complete, 36k. Good for whump and high stakes interpersonal maneuvering & drama. I liked how the story extends beyond rescue and goes into how everyone navigates the fallout

Man's Best Friend by bobmoss

A cursed dog gets left at Spirits and Such. Anyone who pets it is doomed to die a horrible death.

Reigen, of course, pets it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. funny and cute and sweet :) there’s a very charming tentative & tender vibe

heart line by ruthwrites

It doesn’t really matter, he reminds himself. He’s making a change, just like all of Reigen’s clients. What’s on his hands isn’t set in stone. He just has to make sure Reigen doesn’t see it— even if it might feel nice to have that steady attention, Reigen’s hands that are so much nicer than Serizawa’s folding around his.

(or: Reigen starts offering palm readings as a service, leading to Serizawa having to confront his feelings for his boss.)

seri/rei, oneshot, 6k. getting together fluff, a fun light read that also highlights serizawa’s insecurities—the internal narration has good character voice

If you won't believe me when I say it, believe me when I don't by deathdefied

Two years after Reigen invited Serizawa to work for him, he still can't quite categorize his feelings for his coworker. Instead of actually dealing with those feelings like an adult and talking to his friend, he decided to get really paranoid and overthink everything Serizawa does.

seri/rei, complete, 26k. reigen drives himself nuts lmao

Obvious by skeilig

Tome’s perspective on Reigen and Serizawa’s developing relationship.

gen (but about seri/rei), oneshot, 3k. I like outsider perspective getting together fics, especially when the perspective character is like ‘I’m actually not invested in this except when it affects me directly’

Cover Me by flecksofpoppy

Reigen’s shadow seems longer as the days move forward, more solitary. The cuts on his face heal and the ache in his bones go away, but a new sting replaces it. It’s loneliness, the thing he had managed to avoid ever since a primary school-aged kid who could make cups float stumbled into his office so many years ago.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. getting together fic that shows off a little of reigen’s gloomier side, it’s cute

loved you just a little too much by shcherbatskayas

You learn how to let go.

(It doesn't come naturally.)

gen(ish), oneshot, 2k. 2nd person character study of serizawa’s relationship with touichiro, I liked the ambivalence; effectively captures development over time with a relatively short wordcount.

offering genuine help with genuine results by suitablyskippy

“The curse was pretty clear on me not telling lies,” concedes Reigen. “It was pretty clear on me telling the truth. But,” as he lifts one finger, already sliding into the same educational tone he generally uses for imparting wisdom to Mob about life and love and the overall holistic benefits of making sure he’s always available for unexpected overtime work on weekends, “telling the truth isn’t necessarily the same as being honest, is it?”

“You’re the professional liar,” says Dimple. “You tell me.”

(Being cursed to only tell the truth and being cursed with Dimple as an employee are pretty much equally bad, as far as Reigen's stress levels are concerned.)

gen, oneshot, 2k. the tags include friends with no benefits whatsoever, which is very apt. Very funny to have reigen and dimple be petty and shady

a slightly more miraculous miracle by suitablyskippy

“Rumour has it that something impossible’s happened. Something that could never have happened. That shouldn’t have been able to happen.” In a single slick move Mezato produces a tiny voice recorder from an inside pocket, flips it open and active, and holds it up before Mob’s mouth to ask him, in a tone of devastating intensity: “Do you know anything about… a miracle, Mob-kun?”

Mob doesn’t hesitate. “We had maths homework to hand in,” he says. “But now we don’t have to. We don’t even have to go to the lesson.”

(The sun is shining, the birds are singing, Salt Middle School has been closed by an unexplained miracle, and the only thing wrong in Spice City is the fact that nothing is even slightly wrong at all.)

teru/mob, incomplete, 55k. for the most part I haven’t been repeating authors on this list, but listen. listen to me. I need you to listen. it is extremely unlikely for this fic to ever be completed. but hark, lest this sad probability turn you away and leave you dispassionately scrolling to the next fic, I need you (you specifically) to know that if I were in the same room as you, I would be wrestling the phone/mouse/trackpad/touchscreen/etc from your hands and furiously clicking the link. when I bookmarked this fic in 2017 I described it as having “some breathtakingly sensical prose and the funniest misunderstandings I’ve ever read”. trust me from seven years ago. open your heart.

skylight by inexhaustible

unconnected snapshots in what might, in some worlds, be something a little like recovery.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. character study that nails the tension of an escalating romantic atmosphere.

come on, come on, come over (take it off your shoulder) by mortarsmayfall

Reigen's free hand cradles Serizawa's head, curled under his ear just so to turn it for a better angle. He feels his pulse pound under Reigen's fingers, shivers just the slightest bit. If Reigen notices, he doesn't say anything about it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. when I first read this I saved it as a private bookmark because I was so embarrassed by the sheer intimacy of haircuts with severely unresolved sexual tension. I’m guessing this was written after studio bones gave us reigen cutting serizawa’s hair. crumbs no more; for once we had a feast to enjoy. short & sweet getting together fic

Off-White by reigreitz

Some habits are tells.

seri/rei, oneshot, 1k. snapshots of pre-relationship and established relationship scenes, I’m quite fond of it. on my first reading I’m pretty sure I remember not paying attention to the habit piece at all (even with it being right in the summary) so at the last scene I was hit by the double whammy of ‘oh so that was what serizawa was reacting to’ and ‘AW… THAT’S SWEET…’; I think the fic does a great job of hiding/not acknowledging certain things the perspective character knows and is reacting to, which makes it fun to reread and pinpoint what exactly serizawa’s previously more opaque train of thought was. like, it’s the same stuff, but you get to read into more nuance.

the seven stages of falling in love by reigen arataka by matsunoble

You suppose one of the weirdest times to realize you've fallen deeply and irrevocably in love is when it's fuck o'clock in the morning and you're blearily checking your fridge for leftover curry.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. I was quite taken by the mundane (and sometimes unappealing) descriptions of love, and I like when serizawa has the upper hand

Mr. Psychic by beefstatic

Looks like trouble in Spice City...

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. Serizawa Acts Like An Intimidating Bodyguard During Tense/Shady Situations. fun emphasis on that potential aspect of his character, I like how it’s done.

Late by hamlingo

For the first few days after hiring Serizawa, Reigen couldn’t help but be alarmed when the door opened at eight o’clock sharp in the mornings. He got used to it eventually, and in a month’s time he was more surprised when the door didn’t creak open right on time.

This was one of those mornings.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. this is actually among the first seri/rei fics I bookmarked so I can say with relative certainty that on may 20th 2017 I decided that maybe seri/rei was not just a joke of me indulging my own spurious unreasonable whims. fun character study and has that enjoyable tension of pleasant pre-relationship uncertainty.

Quiet Talks by krypkaktus

At some point, Reigen cutting his hair twice a month had turned into a mutual habit.

seri/rei, oneshot, 600 words. another charming snapshot of pre-relationship uncertainty, pleasantly embarrassing unresolved romantic tension.

walk in by ruthwrites

It was then he realized that the reason Reigen and Serizawa were standing so close was because they were kissing.

Mob was not really sure what to do with that information.

(or: mob leaves something at the office, comes back, and walks into something he wasn't supposed to)

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. an extremely popular fic for extremely valid reasons, this is a shining example of the outsider POV shipfic where the perspective character is like. I’m 14 and did not want to see you guys kissing. and the couple is like. we also did not want you to see us kissing, this is excruciatingly awkward.

tomorrow isn't always another day by suitablyskippy

It’s like Reigen’s been waiting for the question. He stops dead on the pavement, grips Mob by the shoulders, and stares down into his eyes with an expression as haunted as though every ghost the pair of them has ever exorcised has taken up residence behind it. “Mob,” he says. “Mob,” he says again. “Tell me, Mob. Look at me and tell me. Tell me truthfully. Do I look cursed to you?”

Mob looks at him, and tells him truthfully. “No.”

“Well, you didn’t look very long,” says Reigen. “Let’s just stand here for a moment, like so, and you can have another look, a nice long look, and really think about it...”

(There's nothing strange about being called back to exorcise the same haunted photocopier six days in a row. It must just be a very haunted photocopier.)

gen, oneshot, 18k. I didn’t mean to rec the same author three (3) times but this is also one of my top faves. extremely funny time prison where nobody is on the same page ever.

space voyage by Anonymous

Tome Kurata is slightly famous—or notorious, more like—for being... a weirdo, to put it simply. She's definitely a person of interest. Just not exactly in a newsworthy way, which is obviously the only way that matters.

mezato/tome, oneshot, 1k. charming pre-relationship contention, they’re the same type of self-absorbed and tunnel vision (affectionate)

I was thinking of not writing up recs for sister’s fics but since one author got three (3) fics on the list I’m gonna also put 3 of my fave fics of sister’s

Reigen's Comprehensive Fool-Proof Guide on How Not To Be Next Door Neighbors With Your Employee (because that'd just be creepy) by MalkyTop

Reigen hires Serizawa and they somehow end up as roommates.

seri/rei, complete, 17k. a fic sister wrote for ✨ME✨ that shows off reigen’s neuroticism and his decidedly not-normal attempts to come across as Extremely Normal, The Most Normal Man Alive. there are so many comedic setups and payoffs. there are so many shenanigans. reigen gets frog-boiled into romance. actually, I drop that term a lot but I’m not sure it’s a common enough to intuitively understand. it refers to the boiling frog metaphor

If At First You Don't Succeed, Find a Loophole by MalkyTop

Reigen keeps dying; Serizawa keeps trying to save him.

seri/rei, complete, 18k. sister was insane for this because she trapped all of her readers AND herself in time prison by releasing one chapter a day. it was really funny to witness because I was the only person not in time prison by virtue of editing privilege. while we were watching mondays: see you next week (an office time loop movie), sister was saying she was impressed at how effective/efficient the movie was at picking which scenes to repeat. this is to say, as someone who notices these details, sister was very intentional about when things changed and how things changed from the perspective of a character completely unaware of time prison. also, the emotional momentum is extremely good, I loved reading serizawa’s increasing desperation from reigen’s context-less perspective.

in absentia* by MalkyTop

After what was supposed to be a routine exorcism, Reigen wakes up in the wrong body.

serirei, complete, 26k. slowburn bodyswap with mystery and intrigue. a solid casefic! I can be biased and right. there are metanarrative elements that I find fun and that, in my opinion, highlights how sister did in fact get a degree in philosophy. there’s also some fun subtle and messy characterization notes, like when serizawa asks reigen not to cook for him. it’s hard to talk about what I like about this fic without giving away a lot of specifics, so go read it.

[robinsno1lesbian]

Could you write a little something where Robin convinces the reader to go skinny dipping in Lovers Lake?

And reader just finds herself completely mesmerized by Robin because she had a crush on her for the longest time? Love your writing by the way 💗

𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 - 𝐑.𝐁.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when robin mentioned the "fun idea" she had in mind, this surely wasn't what you had imagined. but there's no turning back now. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2124

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: non-sexual nudity, mention of alcohol and reader drinking, maybe the slightest bit of internalized homophobia, no beta read lmao (let me know if i missed anything!) 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: my first request yay! please send any and all kinds of requests i lowkey get so excited about them. also, tysm anon i hope this is what you had in mind <3 (there are some references to the rebel robin book in this one: i want to address one of them: obviously robin does not have a crush on a boy! in the book she talks about how she lied about it to get out of an uncomfortable situation and that's the scene i'm referring to!! )

when you dip your toe into the water of lovers' lake, your entire body shivers in response. it's not as cold as you thought it would be, but your body is still damp from the heat of the day. and even though the sun has set long ago, the air still feels unusually warm, leaving a thin layer of sweat on your body. out of all the things you could be doing right now, this is most definitely not at the top of the list. "i have a great idea" robin had said when you asked her about the plans for the evening. as far as you were concerned, it was supposed to be a fun sleepover/movie night in robin's basement. her parents weren't home so you would have the whole house to yourself. but as soon as those words had left her mouth, you knew you could forget about the chill night you had imagined.

the girl with the freckled skin and beautiful strawberry blonde hair has been your best friend ever since you can remember. and ever since you can remember, her "fun ideas" always ended up with either one of you getting in trouble. though, with robin grinning at you like that, you simply can not tell her no. so, with both hands raised in defense, you nodded and asked about that fun idea. you can't recall the exact day when things between the two of you began to change: it could have been in 8th grade, when robin confessed her crush on matthew manes at wendy dewan's halloween party. or maybe when everyone started dating halfway through 9th grade. when everything was about boys all of a sudden, for everyone but you. you never understood what about steve harrington's hair or matthew manes' mere existence had such an effect on everyone around. you couldn't imagine being with either of those, you couldn't even imagine kissing a boy, let alone being with one. you just wanted to be around robin to forget about all those things: to lay in the grass in summer and laugh until your belly hurt and your lungs ached for air. to braid each other's hair and put flower chains around her neck. to be the girls you had been in childhood and to be that together. back to when there was no worry in the world big enough to really get to you. one night you even told her about it but it hadn't seemed much like she wanted to talk about it. she just blushed and turned away. you put the blame matthew manes and switched the lights off.

that same night you had laid wide awake next to a peacefully snoring robin. it was when you picked up the habit of counting her freckles for the first time. it was also when you wanted to kiss her for the first time.

it was when you finally understood what about you had always been so different from the other girls your age. and why you couldn't see what they saw when they looked at boys your age.

because you had seen it in robin all this time.

ever since you have tried to think about that situation as little as possible.

you still count robin's freckles sometimes. and you still want to kiss her all the time. even after years of trying not to.

"perfect temperature for a bath" robin grins while withdrawing her toes from the water. her hair has grown ever since that night back in highschool. shortly after she'd cut it all off. it has grown back ever since, medium-length blond curls framing her face in the pale moonlight. "i- uhm- I'm not sure this is a good idea" you look around, trying to make out the edge of the woods in the darkness of the night. "what if we get caught?" "by who?" she laughs. "come on y/n, this will be fun. soon we will be out of hawkins anyway...to god knows where! remember? even if we get caught -which won't happen- a couple of years will pass and soon enough no one is gonna remember anyway" this is not the robin you remember from highschool. you'd like to blame it on the bottle of whatever-that-was that you have shared on your way to the lake but maybe this is just the way she is around you? the carefree, joyous robin that no one else but you gets to see?

still not convinced, you grimace at her. "okay look...i'll go first"

and before you can hold her back, she grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head. her painted nails shimmer as she puts them up in the air, her shirt tugged between her fingers as it comes off. you change in front of each other all the time, but you try to look away from her whenever she does. you wouldn't want to make her uncomfortable. if she knew what you are, she would never do this in front of you, is what you tell yourself. now, it's almost like she wants you to look. she unbuttons her shorts and drops them to where she has previously thrown her top, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. you visibly gulp, because if you got robin right, she is not done yet and her next movements prove that to be right. she reaches out and unclasps her bra and it lands on the floor, on top of the growing pile of clothing. your eyes dart down to your own feet and you rock back and forth, unsure of where to look now. you wrap your arms around your body, a soft blush creeping its way onto your cheeks.

her back is turned to yours now, and you dare to look up from the ground. her skin is soft and the way the moon shines on her makes it look almost porcelain-like. a part of you wants to reach out, wants to run your fingertips up and down her spine and see the goosebumps rise beneath. maybe if you were someone else, somewhere else, you would actually do it. anyone but yourself and anywhere but here in hawkins, indiana. robin is stepping out of her panties, while you're still lost in your own thoughts, leaving her completely naked. "and now watch me" she speaks. and then, before you could do anything to stop her, she runs, right into the water of lovers' lake. the downpour of the water splashes on you, leaving wet patches on your skin and clothes. she screams and yelps but her legs carry her further in, until she drops herself and dips down. she remains underwater for a couple of seconds before her head breaks through the surface. there is a wide smile plastered on her face. "come on y/n! don't make me do this all alone"

you shake your head, more in disbelief than disagreement. just a couple of seconds later, you're in nothing but your underwear: a light pair with a floral pattern. you feel unusually exposed, with robin watching you from the water. this is such bullshit, you think to yourself, she has seen you naked so many times already. what difference does this make?

so, without further undo, you strip out of your last clothing pieces and step into the water. the moonlight is reflecting on the surface and on robin's bare shoulders. the little bit of water that's left on her is glistening in the darkness. "see?" she smiles as you wade towards her. you wrap your arms around your chest, partly to keep yourself warm and partly to cover your breasts, all while walking in robin's direction.

"robin" you whine when the girl starts swimming backward. you feel almost childlike as you reach out again to get to her. "almost there" she mocks with a playful smile, her arms still paddling to get her out of your reach. she kicks her feet out of the water, a good amount of water pouring down on you.

"fuck you" you reply and finally throw yourself fully into the lake. it's cold against your damp skin, but the longer you're in it, the more your body gets used to the feeling. robin lets out somewhat of a squeak when she feels your hand around her wrist. she shoves a handful of water right into your face and wiggles to get out of the grip you have around her. you try to hold onto her but her wet skin offers nothing that could give your fingers a better hold of her. as soon as her arm slips away from you, she screams and swims away, with you being hot on her heels. you've completely forgotten about the lack of clothing, your mind too focused on catching robin to care. with one especially strong stroke of your arms through the water, you reach robin and immediately grab her by the shoulder to prevent her from fleeing again.

she laughs and tries to get away again but there's no way out of your hold. "got you" you smile, while you try to set your feet onto the ground. unfortunately, you haven't even realized how far from land you are now and your head dips down as you put all of your weight on your feet. "wow, wow, wow, y/n" robin reacts quickly, she is tall enough to stand on the ground of the lake and pulls you up by the armpits. you let out a mix of a cough and a laugh. "careful" she smiles.

only when you catch your breath, do you realize how close robin has pulled you to her. she is still holding you, but her body is pressed up against yours now. you stare down at your intertwined bodies. the darkness of the night doesn't allow you to see past both of your shoulders, but you can feel her. every curve of her body, every inch of soft skin leaning against yours. silence falls upon the lake when you look up again your eyes meet hers. they are a beautiful greyish blue, remarkable even in the darkness. to your own surprise, you can feel her chest rising and falling just as quickly as your own.

there is irritation in her expression as if this is something she doesn't fully understand...as if she didn't expect this from you... feeling bold, you reach out and wipe a strand of wet hair out of her face. you can see the freckles, even with the little light you have. 118, the last time you counted them. when you pull away your hand, she reaches for it. somehow, though you don't have much time to comprehend it, she still manages to hold you upright with just one of her arms. robin exhales shakily and places your palm back on her cheek.

"y/n..." she whispers. "can i- is it okay if i- i mean..."

robin looks away shily. and suddenly, it all falls into place and you understand. "kiss me?" you breathe and her gaze shoots back to meet yours. you shift in the water, the silence ringing in your ears like sirens. a thousand thoughts at once race through your mind. "i- uhm- sorry i just-" "can i?" she blurts out.

you immediately nod. "yes please" and with that, you close your eyes and she leans in. the first thing you notice is the softness of her lips. softer than anything else you've ever known. they taste like summer; it's almost like you can taste the sun and the soft breeze of the day on her. she brings her hand up to your cheek, every line of her precious fingerprints sending shivers down your spine. she traces your jaw, featherlight touch lingering while her lips meet yours -again and again. you wrap your arms around her neck loosely, caging her in between your arms. water splashes up your shoulders as she pushes further against you and you have to lean back.

so this is what it's like to feel truly loved. this is what all the talk was about. this is what you've missed out on. you aren't even thinking when you wrap both of your legs around her belly, but she doesn't mind. she just picks you up and lifts you further out of the water, so that you have to lean down to reach her lips. "robin" you laugh airily. she leans back, her forehead pressed against yours. "y/n..." she whispers. you smile widely. "i've wanted to do this for a while now" "really?" the rasp in her voice is even more present now. "yes" you nod and bite your lower lip. "for a long while" "you should've said something" she mumbles and adds shily: "can i kiss you again?" "you don't have to ask robbie" and she does.

[onesapphireeye]

yeah, i said it

You and Aemond have a workplace situationship. It's about time that changes.

modern!aemond x reader + "Kiss my ass." "Gladly." warnings: use of she/her for reader. some cussing.

nori says: i did something and tumblr ate this ask so if you were the anon who requested this, please reach out to me again! off or on anon, i promise i won't bite!!! also lmao oops its not beta read & i thought it would be SHORTER. xoxo

more prompt asks to come!

word count: 2,094

[new group chat started:]

[aegon added you!]

[aegon added aemond!]

AEGTAR: Dragonpit tonight? The hot new girl wants to get shown around our haunts. Baela said she’s down. I’m thinking about trying to get them to make out. ;P

OUTGOING: stop messaging me on the work chat and focus on finishing your part of the presentation.

OUTGOING: and stop making new chats! you can literally reply to the 100 other chats you make a day, just click the maximize button!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AEMTAR: What she said.

AEGTAR: WHaT sHe SAid!!! Suck up.

“Come onnnn!” You glanced up from your monitors to see Aegon leaning over the side of your cubicle. His gaze had a mischievous glint, and the corners of his mouth twitched with suppressed excitement.

He was a few years older than you and, though he had the advantage of being the CFO's grandson, his lack of ambition had kept him out of the promotion talks.

You, on the other hand, had been promoted twice from an internship and had now caught up to his fulltime employee status.

After an uncomfortable situation in the break room, where you had been the object of his workplace affections, you let him in on what unpleasant things you could do to his nut sack if it ever came near you. You had also let slip that Hannibal was your favorite tv show, and chomped your teeth dramatically in his direction.

He hadn’t spoken to you about hooking up since, but had instead relegated you to “dude friend” status and regularly tried to use you as a wingman.

You wished he didn’t talk to you at all, but this was better than before. 

“If I go, it'll be like cosigning a death sentence for her.” You cast a look at the newest employee, perched in a tiny corner cubicle. Today marked seven days since she’d joined the team, her face still holding that infectious glow of fresh enthusiasm. You had been her once, before you'd let this job (and Aegon) suck the joy right out of you.

Aegon gave you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes and you returned it with a look of stone-faced determination. But he didn't let up. “Don’t be a cockblock! She likes you and asked if you were coming before she said yes.”

“So you lied to her?” Your gaze burned straight through into the back of Aegon's head, and you heard a snort coming from in front of you.

You stood up to look over your cubicle’s divider wall and saw Aemond sat in his chair, arms crossed and brow furrowed.

You knew he was thinking about intervening on your behalf and defusing the situation, just like he did every other time his brother tried to push your buttons.

You glared at him. “You think workplace harassment is funny, Aemond? That’s not very becoming of a manager.”

Aemond's expression was stern, like he was trying to fight a smirk. He was supposed to be the steady voice of reason in the presence of his brother’s antics, yet now he remained silent.

Girls would tell you around the cooler that he probably had a crush on you, but you knew better. 

It was more than a crush.

He was pussy whipped and half in love.

You two had already been fucking for the last few months. 

At first, it had been your idea to keep it a secret and you thought Aemond would understand. But you could tell he was getting more and more frustrated with you for not wanting to make your relationship public. He didn’t want to see Aegon or anyone else hitting on you.

Aemond had been your lead when you were an intern and while he may have been into you then, your career success hadn’t been thanks to any special perks given by him.

You wanted to avoid the potential drama of work gossip while also maintaining your hard-earned reputation, but couldn't deny that you had also begun to feel an emptiness in not being able to formally declare your relationship.

Of course, you had made the decision to be private before you realized how much it bothered you to see him being flirted at. You said ‘at’ because, for most people, Aemond was like an impenetrable wall.

You were starting to think about having a real conversation about where you both stood and if there was still a chance of becoming something official. But you were afraid that he had already gotten too comfortable and settled into the status quo of being in a situationship.

"I didn't want to type it out, but think we should go." You gave Aemond a pout when he spoke up but sighed, knowing you had been out voted.

Aemond texted that he was en route, and a quick glance at his location showed he was about ten minutes away. You finished the final touches of your make-up and zipped up your thigh-high boots. You grabbed a small purse and decided against a coat, hurrying out to the parking garage.

You spotted Aemond's car rolling up and waved to him with excitement. It stopped in front of you and you opened the door with a wide grin. “Perfect timing, Baby!”

He rolled his eyes at you and frowned. “I really wish you'd let me pick you up at the door.”

“Why, when this is more efficient?”

“You can be too pragmatic at times.”

“Hello pot, meet kettle.”

He looked amazing in his leather jacket and blue jeans. You could see a white V-neck t-shirt and his signature Valyrian steel chain peeking out from underneath.

You got into his car, and as you turned to close the door and buckle up, the dress you were wearing slid up your thighs and his hand instantly went to grab it.

You loved many things about Aemond: his long hair, the scar on his face, his morning voice...but nothing could top your love for his hands.

Especially when they were in or on you.

“Your dress doesn’t seem to want to stay in place." He smirked teasingly as he gave your thigh a kneading squeeze. “Should have worn something shorter.”

You could tell he wasn’t entirely serious, but you weren’t going to take the bait. His religious background and jealousy could suck it; you were choosing not to bite. Whether you were his girlfriend or not, you weren’t about to let him dictate what you wore. You could compromise on many things for him, but this was not one of them: it was your body and you would die on this hill. 

You playfully slapped your hand on top of the one holding your leg, then rubbed it. "Kiss my ass, you prude." 

Aemond laughed as he pulled out of the parking garage. "Gladly."

The Dragonpit was, as always, busy as hell.

It was a the only club in town that never had a happy hour and somehow that made people feel like it was exclusive. In reality, influencers had been paid to promote it and they’d done their jobs well. The line usually stretched around the building.

You were suspicious of the online reviews, as the music was too loud, the dance floor was cramped, and one of the two exit doors was usually blocked by commercial-sized trash bins. If you were doing audits, you'd rate this place a recipe for disaster.

If there was a plus side though, it was that your Targaryen coworkers knew the owner and could walk straight in.

The acrid smell of sweat hit you as soon as the bouncer opened the door. Aemond grabbed your hand, and you both weaved your way through the throng of bodies on the dance floor until you reached the bar.

Aemond pushed his way to the ledge while you stayed close behind him. You glanced over the crowd to look for any familiar faces. You smiled as soon as you spotted Baela deep in conversation with a tall brunette, you realized it was Cregan Stark from her department upstairs. She gave you a wave and you motioned for her to come over. 

“Drinking anything?” Your attention was brought back to Aemond, who was looking over his shoulder at you. 

You nodded your head in the affirmative. “Just some shots, you pick.”

Baela, without Cregan, embraced you with a hug. Her promotion away from your work floor had happened recently, and you were amazed she hadn’t taken over the company yet. She was a motivator for you, almost like a guide. 

“I'm so glad you two showed up! Aegon said you were probably going to bail?” She sent an odd look at Aemond and you raised your eyebrow in question.

The Targaryen male cleared his throat, pointedly ignoring his cousin. He held out a short glass filled with a clear liquid and you accepted it without hesitation, offering a smile and a polite thanks.

“Aegon doesn’t know anything.” Aemond said and you verbally agreed. “Where is he anyway?” 

Baela made an expression of disgust and gestured to the same doorway you had walked through. Aegon and the new girl were in a tight lip-lock, as if they were trying to suck the air out of each other's lungs to survive. You two had walked right past them without even noticing.

“Seven days? That’s got to be some sort of new record?” You heard Baela say. That poor, poor girl. You threw back your shot in memory of her reputation at work.

You shook your head and remarked, “It’s almost insane how he always gets what he wants.” Aemond snickered and Baela gave you a cute frown.

“Honey, he’s rich.” You laughed at Baela’s words and guessed that was the only explanation you needed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a Stark to climb.”

Aemond drank his shot and returned both empty glasses to the bar counter, giving his cousin a dull look, "none of us need to know that."

She stuck her tongue out, as she floated back through the crowd. 

You both drained your second round of shots in one quick gulp. Your tolerance for alcohol wasn't great, but you weren't even close to being tipsy. You just felt a little more relaxed from borrowing some liquid courage.

You locked eyes with Aemond and gave him your most flirtatious look. "Should I go find something to climb?" He shifted his weight to rest an elbow on the bar, eliciting a few grumblings from the people trying to get by. 

“Let’s see what you can do.” He challenged you with a smirk that burned with mischievous fire. You met his challenge and sashayed to the edge of the dance floor, swaying your hips dangerously and capturing his full attention. He watched hungrily as you moved your body to the rhythm.

His look darkened when another man approached and tried to cut in. Aemond quickly stood and pulled you to him, possessive and protective. "Don't even think about it," he growled, his low voice washing over you like a stormy sea. “Pick someone else’s girlfriend.” The stranger quickly retreated in the face of his will.

You raised an eyebrow at him, testing the boundaries of his newfound declaration. "Girlfriend?" You said with a mischievous smirk, chin resting on his chest. "Don't you usually have to ask the girl you're claiming? We aren't living in medieval times."

Aemond looked down at you with wide eyes, searching for something in your expression that wasn't quite there. Then with a deep breath and a determined look, he asked "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

You beamed up at him and touched his cheek tenderly. "Yes," you breathed, standing on the tips of your toes to press a gentle kiss against his lips. "Absolutely."

Happy that mess had been sorted out, his grip was firm as he pulled you close and spun you around. The rhythm of the music reverberated through your body. His thumb traced your spine as his breath grazed your neck, a heat rising between you. 

It didn’t take long before you were grinding your ass into him. 

Off the dance floor, your coworkers looked on in wonder. Aegon and the new girl had joined Baela and Cregan. 

Baela let out a sharp cry of excitement. She slapped Aegon on the arm, nearly shoving him off his feet. “I called that shit! You owe me twenty dollars!” 

norinote: remember you can send me prompts from here or your own ideas! xoxo.

[gor3-hound]

NYYYYYYXXXXX!!!!!! HAIIIII HRUU :3! bless ur soul for putting up with my nonsensical yapping.. i love ur inputs<3 & NEW BOTS WOOO thank you for these gracious meals😋

AND I WAS THINKING (here we go again LMAO)..RE2 LEON AS A LOSER COLLEGE CLASSMATE. he’s a loner. kinda nerdy, not that talkative. sits in the back of any room. poor baby is too shy to make a conversation w anyone, & when/if he does, nobody’s listening/thinks his input is weird/is talking over him so he jus gives up on trying 2 make friends & just decides to focus on his studies (◞‸◟)

until popular!reader comes along & makes the effort to get to know Leon by sitting next to him. bro is baffled! but shes popular for a reason; so sweet & considerate, funny—cute! it’s the most attention that anybody has ever given him & he gets so drunk off of her mere presence that he just can’t help getting a little crush on her!

but then that quickly develops into an unhealthy obsession; “accidentally” bumping into her “randomly”, rubbing himself to pictures of her, attached to her by the hip! her bf doesn’t like him for being so touchy, so he kinda beats Leon up :(… a lesson is NOT learned bc Leon complains to reader abt his boo-boos, & she tells her bf off. seeing this, Leon tells her lies abt her bf & she believes him always bc Leon is nothing but an angel! 

bro has a whole wall dedicated to her. photos of her w her friends (who r etched out/cut out), her walking around campus, etc. mf collects her chewed-up pencils & forgotten hairties (bonus if they have strands on them) & and disposed gum-wrappers like they’re ancient artifacts. occasionally takes her empty/half-full waterbottles and licks & kisses the lip to pretend he’s making out with her. typically results in him whimpering her name while humping a pillow… yeah he’s pathetic, but she’s none the wiser!…. do u see my vision….

-🍼

🍼anon i'm literally on my knees asking for your hand in marriage because i love love LOOOVE creep/perv re2 leon :3 pls yap in my inbox forever bcs your ideas are so juicy and make me scream!! BUT HIII!!! i'm good !! hruuu?

but omg ofc i see the vision!! he's so sweet at first, just happy to have a friend. but reader is the only one who's ever treated him like this, and his innocent crush is so quick to become an obsession. the water bottle thing had me SCREAMING like ughhhh.

reader is so oblivious. leon is so unassuming and like... no one cares about him, so they don't notice when he slinks away at the beginning of the lecture with reader's room key... oops. he gets himself some souvenirs(aka used panties...) but he's also *such* a gentleman that he doesn't just care about that. he's also taking note of stuff like the shower gel n shampoo she uses so he can get the same ones as reader to feel closer to her :33

bonus points if he snaps one day. after she tells her bf off, her bf gets really fucking defensive about HIS girlfriend. every time leon walks into the room, he's pulling her in for a kiss - not just a peck, but like... a sloppy makeout sesh. leon ends up being like 'hi i wanna say sorry for how i've acted... come w me'. except he's not sorry at all (duh) and he gets rid of her boyfriend once and for all.

of course, he's the one to comfort reader when she's completely distraught at her bfs 'disappearance'. he lets her into his dorm room and cuddles her while being all sweet, using her emotional vulnerability to coax reader into letting him touch her. he's got her right where he wants her now. and if her friends start to catch on? he's got no problem disposing of them, too.

[oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat]

What’s your favorite thing about your favorite Thomas Sanders character(s)?

Hey, Anon :D

Well, let's see...

Remus/Remus: I love how unsettling he is and how he's not afraid to be himself and do fuck-all. I relate a lot to being a weird, creepy sibling people are hesitant to be around, so Remus is a big comfort character. Also, I love how he's also Creativity and has lots of his own ideas, no matter how dark they may be. And his humour sends me every time (lmao). And of course, the weird facts he knows is very relatable. And the fact he just wants to be listened to and acknowledged. And all the unhinged chaos from him. And the drama and him just being a freakin' goober.

Logan/Logan: Him being a giant nerd and one of the more-mature Sides in the group is a bit relatable. I love seeing him being enthusiastic about Crofter's and making puns and when he gets to indulge in things he really likes. Him being very intelligent but also struggling with emotions and such. How bad he just wants to be taken seriously and listened and such. How he keeps getting pushed around and ignored, and when as soon as he lashes out because he's hurting, the Others blame him for it. I love how he apologizes for lashing out, though it's always his right to. I relate a lot to how he represses the "icky emotions" or refrains himself because he thinks he can't be emotional if he's to be taken seriously.

Roman/Roman: how passionate he is about things he loves, like acting and Disney and his creative merits. How he keeps getting used and manipulated and he's just so confused because he needs clear structure as the Ego, but everything is just jumbled and he's not sure what's right to do anymore. All of the angst with this poor guy is just relatable. How happy he gets when Logan asked him for his creative help!! That was a vulnerable and wholesome moment. How creative he gets and how he shows he knows his fellow Sides and friends through his gifts (him getting Janus socks for warmth and writing an entire story/fanfic/play about Sherlock for Logan). He's just so thoughtful and caring. He shows he loves them through playful teasing and jokes and banter!! And he's growing and learning and apologizing when he screws up. Like, him and Virgil getting closer and becoming besties. How insecure he is because he's terrified of failure and being imperfect and especially of rejection.

Virgil/Virgil: he's been a fav of mine since middle school, which was around the time the series was first starting and soon we met him as Anxiety (way back in 2016). I've related to him especially as someone who was a bit emo and also struggles A Lot with anxiety and an anxiety disorder(s). His fashion sense with his purple jacket/hoodie is my fav thing, btw. He was a big part of my comfort growing up. Kind of a nostalgic comfort. I love how he has spiders all over his room because I relate to loving spiders and not being scared of them. I love his sarcasm and humour and his counterpoints. I love his debate episode with Logan. This snarky spiderling was a big reason why I'm still alive, believe or not, and so he's an important character to me. Just a big Fav to me.

Janus/Janus: This sarcastic, villain-aesthetic serpent is important to me because of the fact that he's both Deceit AND Self-Perseveration. It's so damn relatable because I was the kid who knew how to lie so well that my lies were almost always regarded as truth. I had to lie and hide things to survive because I grew up as a queer Christian kid in a scary and unsupportive place. If I slipped up the slightest, there was absolute horror to pay. Also, the queer-coded villain aesthetic is one of my fav things. This man doesn't need to be that melodramatic but he is because that's what he likes to do. He's a petty lil drama king, and I love that about him. Also his [implied?] angst of having this fear of vulnerability and getting hurt again is... it's very important to me.

Patton/Patton: I relate to him the least, but oh boy do I have things to SAY. Him a total dad and making so much puns is funny to me. It's very relatable to be the kind of person so take care [or try to] of everyone else but forget about myself. Him loving cats but being allergic is comical, lmao. Him trying to repress and hide his "icky emotions" and just showing the happy positive ones is something that's a bit too relatable. As someone who's struggled with smiling depression, it can get to the point where people don't believe you when you finally show a hint of not being okay. And so you just go back to faking it, and then get ignored again whilst taking care of everyone else. But yeah, he's a pretty good character and almost reminds me of some family of mine.

c!Thomas/c!Thomas: one thing I will never get over about this character is the fact that he's a struggling artist and creator that is going through A Lot and still healing and discovering things about himself. That's some of the most relatable shit. He's so human and shows the healing process as a bumpy road which is TRUE to reality and I love it. His Sides and him are learning together, and that's just beautiful. Maybe not my most fav, but still pretty high up there on the Brainrot chart.

As you can see, I have things to say about ALL of them. All of the main seven, anyway. I'm sure I'll have lots to say once we meet and see Orange.

[sorry this was so long]

[star-girl69]

hiii i love your daemyra series!!! i was wondering if u could write smth with daemyra x reader where the reader often has doubts and insecurities about her relationship with them (if its alright with u i would love if u could write her being plus sized too!!) and she has a breakdown and tries to hide that she cried but they are worried and tell her to tlak and then they just take care of her and reassure her and if u want to maybe some fluffy sex too tysm <33

a/n: hi anon! thank you so much for requesting i’ve been waiting for a daemyra x reader request for like, ever lmao. i’m also so glad you’re enjoying my daemyra series! i absolutely adore writing it and i’m glad i can provide a little bit of content for us!! i loved this request, but i unfortunately don’t write smut so i had to leave that part out. i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, getting drunk, possessiveness, mentions of alcohol, tell me if i misses anything!!

Perfect Thing

—-

“I think it’s time for us to leave, hm?” You turned towards you husband with a frown, staring at the amused smile on your lips.

“I wanna dance!”

“You’re drunk.” Rhaenyra rationalized, pulling your chair closer to her to brush hair out of your face, feeling the heat in your cheeks.

“Stop…” You groaned with a smile, blushing like you always did when they touched you. Even after years of being married to them.

“Oh, you dare to tell the heir to the throne what to do?”

“Please, just one dance with Lady Serena? She’s my dearest friend and I haven’t seen her in so long…” You looked at them pleadingly, knowing how to play your husband and wife like a violin.

Everyone knew that Daemon and Rhaenyra were wrapped around their wife’s little finger, but what wrong could their perfect wife do? You deserved anything and everything, and they took it upon themselves it give it to you.

“Go,” Daemon groaned. “But only one. I’m scared you’re going to fall over. Don’t spin too fast!”

But you were already running off into the crowd, finding Lady Serena who let out a squeal when she say you.

Serena was truly your closest friend, being the husband of a Crownlands lord very near to Dragonstone. She often visited the castle you resided in, and a fast friendship formed.

Serena let out a hiccup as she grabbed your hand, tugging you further into the crowd.

You danced with her clumsily, which mostly meant laughing and twirling each other around.

You two didn’t even notice that you had danced out of the crowd until you slammed into a pillar, falling into a fit of laughter.

“Uh-oh. Your- your things are staring at you.”

“What things?”

“Your things! The people that you- your husband and wife!”

“How did you forget the words?”

“I don’t know. Wine?”

“Probably,” you mused with a smile before bidding her goodbye, shuffling just around the edge of the crowd to get back to your Daemon and your Rhaenyra.

The crowd seemed to be swallowing you whole, and some sober part of yourself realized how drunk you were.

“I’m sorry!” You steadied yourself after bumping into someone, a Lannister lord by the lion on his collar.

He glared at you, taking notice of your Targaryen red dress and lack of white hair. But must have recognized you. “Fucking whore,” he sneered and walked away, and you felt the wine in your veins disappear.

You knew your marriage was unconventional, and you tried not to care about the opinions of others. You really did.

As Daemon told you, you were a princess and their wife. Don’t dirty your lips with talk of lies.

But you couldn’t help your mind be planted with dirt, with seeds of doubt flowering in you.

You had been plagued with nightmares of Daemon and Rhaenyra leaving you, of the court shaming you more than they already did.

You felt a hot tear slip down your face.

But your feet had carried you to your husband and wife, so you did your best to wipe the tears away.

“Ready to go? You must be exhausted-” Rhaenyra voice trailed off as she looked up at you, seeing something on your face. “Have you been crying? Did you get hurt? What happened?”

Daemon’s head whipped around from a conversation with a nearby lord, walking toward you hastily.

Rhaenyra stood next to you, looping your arm with yours while Daemon placed a hand under your chin to tilt your face up.

“You’re crying.” His voice was blunt, and that only served to further your shame and embarrassment.

“I’m not.” But the two did not believe you.

—-

You were silent during the walk back to your chambers, Rhaenyra keeping a tight hold on you and looked at you expectantly. You weren’t sure if she thought you were going to fall over crying or what, but her burning stare only made your shame grow.

They cared about you so much, and you couldn’t even believe them.

Rhaenyra let go of you with a hesitant arm, eyes following you and you settled onto the bed. You didn’t bother to take off you dress, simply slipping off your shoes.

The bed dipped a few minutes later, Daemon’s rough hand encompassing your shoulder. He tugged you closer, and you were powerless to resist him.

You laid on your back while he was on his side, looking at you in a way you couldn’t decipher.

“Nothings wrong.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Just tell us, Y/N.” Most of the time Daemon enjoyed a game, but when you were hurt, all of that fell away. Leaving only the serious man you had been fascinated with, never believing that he could be yours and you could be his.

“I’m fine,” you hissed and he let out a dry laugh.

“Don’t be a brat.”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“You’re not-”

“Daemon.” Rhaenyra settled into bed on the other side of you, hair unpinned and flowing around her like a while halo. She looked beautiful, but you were too embarrassed to say anything. “Y/N, my love, please…”

“Nothings wrong!”

She pressed a hand to your cheek, turning your face toward her.

“You can tell us anything. We’ll never get mad at you. Never leave you. Anything, Y/N. Anything.”

And your resolve broke.

Because it was just Rhaenyra, just your Rhaenyra, and how could she ever lie to you?

“T-this- this man, I-I bumped into him and he- he called me a w-whore.”

Rhaenyra’s lips parted in shock, and you could feel Daemon tense behind you.

“He’s a lying cunt and I’ll kill him myself.” Daemon’s low voice in your ear did nothing to calm you, only causing the tears that had not left your eyes to start falling.

“Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It’s not true. Not true. I promise, sweetness, I promise.” Rhaenyra peppered kisses on your temple, hand still on your cheek in an effort to ground you, bring you back to your body.

Daemon hummed in your ear, a silent prayer to send you back but you were already gone. Untethered. You floated through the sky like a falling ash from a fire, like a leaf blowing in the wind.

“I try so hard not to believe it. I promise I do. But our marriage is… unconventional. I try not to believe it but it’s so hard when everyone else does. It’s so hard.” Sobs filled your voice, and you were surprised you were coherent enough to even have a conversation.

“You’re a princess,” Daemon murmured. “you’re-”

“I’m your wife, yes, I know. I shouldn’t dirty my mouth with lies. But they’re not lies, Daemon. They’re not. They’re not.”

“No, no. Don’t say that, Y/N. Who cares what they think, my love? We love you, and that’s all that matters. Forget about the rest of the world. Fade into us.”

“But I- I don’t even know if I-”

Rhaenyra’s hand curled around your chin, and Daemon wrapped a tight arm around your waist.

“Don’t ever question our love for you. We love you. We love you with all of us. We love you, and we will love you until the fucking sun disappears from the sky. We won’t stop loving you, even in death. If you were to call me from over my grave, I would rise from the dead. I would hear you in death, I would hear you a thousand miles away.”

“I would do anything for you. I will kill anyone for you. I will kill everyone who put these thoughts into your head. I will kill the man who called you such a hateful thing. Viserys may be the king, but he does not rule over my heart. Only you and Rhaenyra have the power over that.”

You let out a deep breath at their words.

“Thank you, you didn’t have too-”

“Don’t.” Rhaenyra murmured with a smile, placing a finger over your lip. “We will always comfort you. Always remind you that we love you. Now let’s get you out of that uncomfortable dress, our sweet little wife.”

“Perfect girl,” Daemon agreed, head dipping to press a hard kiss to the side of your neck.

“Best girl,” Rhaenyra placed a kiss onto your temple.

“Our girl,” Daemon murmured, teeth softly grazing your skin.

—-

Rhaenyra and Daemon slowly helped you out of your dress and corset, occasionally telling you how much they loved a random part of your body.

“I like your stomach best of all, though. Comfortable to lay on when you read to me.”

“The way your hand fits into mine is my favorite.”

“I like your cunt, too.”

“Daemon!”

After you changed into a soft silken nightgown, Daemon and Rhaenyra each shared a long, hard kiss with you. But with their soft touches and sweet words you didn’t need anymore convincing, wouod never need anymore convincing. Your Daemon and your Rhaenyra loved you, and that might be the most perfect thing, not you.

—-

[3dogbones]

AWESOME SAUCE ANON HERE Every time I see epic they always draw him silly, and I like the silly stuff but they totally ignore how sad his backstory is.

also whenever I come into the ask box it’s probably going to be about epic because he’s my favorite JSKSJSKJ

(Very tragic story, I was trying to answer this ask but IT FRICKIN DELETED WHEN I TRIED TO SAVE THE DRAFT, so I resent myself the ask and typed as close as I could remember and I’m pretty sure this is what it said 😥 My memory is bad and I HATE WHEN TUMBLR SCREWS ME OVER LIKE THIS SINCE I WAS LEGIT COOKIN. WAAAAAAA)

OH MY GOODNESS IT IS YOU! HEY HI HELLO! WELCOME BACK!

I AGREE WITH YOU SO MUCH IT HURTS.

Some people just think epic is just a silly little guy, and YES HE IS SHORT VERY SHORT LITTLE COULD DROP KICK AND YES HE IS SILLY but what they overlook is that it’s all a facade. IT’S JUST A MASK.

HIS MEMENESS IS A RESPONSE TO TRAUMA, AND BARELY ANYONE REALIZES THIS, I’M SCREAMING 😭😭😭

In reality, Epic struggles to go to sleep every night, becoming sleep deprived. He has a dad who doesn’t even care about him. Every time he shuts his eyes, he has to deal with nightmares that cause excruciating pain. Yet, when people ask how he is, you want to know what he does…

He LIES.

When Toriel asks him about him about his scar, instead of opening up, he says he trips. No one knows about the eye except him and Gaster, the one who did this to him.

My theory is that it’s because Epic doesn’t want them to worry. He probably knows that opening up will just worry them. And like Gaster tells him, he’ll just…

Deal with it. That’s what he has been taught by his dad his whole life. (I FUNKING HATE YOU EPIC GASTER)

He’s so good at lying that even the fandom thinks he’s happy. I am sick of him just being a meme, just being “Cross’ best friend lolololol silly 🤪”. But I guess it is what it is lmao.

I love how his struggles are portrayed in that one video “Broken Facade”. And a blog I found with silly stuff and a bunch of Epic angst is @/hillllllls if you wanna go check them out!

Anyways, as you can probably tell, I go FERAL over Epic 🔥angst🔥 so I drew some for you under the cut! It’s a REALLY rough sketch (I’m lazy) but hope you like it

TW for gore you are so cool awesome sauce anon!

Wa bonk, art above cut and epic sans belongs to yugogeer012, I think, pretty sure they DISOWNED HIM THOUGH, Don’t even get me started on that- *rambles off into eternity*

(AFTER EDIT FOUND THE ORIGINAL ASK GOD I AM SO MAD WHY COULDN’T I FIND THIS EARLIER AHHHHHHHH I SWEAR TO DA GOOD MEMELORD I AM SO SORRY-)

[thefanciestborrower]

so… silly guys am i right?? lol feel free to use this to just dump any info about whatever thoughts you have honestly

free thought bubble

Heck yeah thank you anon now I’ve got an excuse to ramble about my goofy pirate blorbos cause my o.ne pie.ce fixation from five years ago has resurfaced with a vengeance lmao. 

I just. They’re all so silly goofy and one of the found families ever and gosh vore nonsense would work so well with them I’m sorry. Like, look at my boy Lu.ffy and tell me he wouldn’t eat his friends just to be silly and affectionate. This guy eats literally anything with zero issue and live action Lu.ffy kept referring to his stomach as a “safe place” so yeah no he’d absolutely keep his friends in there. Now, would they like it? Probably not lmao but its just one of those Lu.ffy things they’d have to get used to. 

Like, Z.oro? Mans is so eatable and idk why but those are the vibes he has. He is not eatable by choice and would much prefer to not be involved in the shenanigans but listen when you’re part of that crew you don’t get a choice. Plus him and Lu.ffy have always been very close with each other and I adore their dynamic so I think we should be allowed to add some vore to that lmao.

Na.mi will kick teeth out do not eat her unless you want to die. She loves her friends but that’s gross lmao. Has it happened to her before? Yes. Will it happen again? Also yes. She does not get a say in that because Lu.ffy has decided it’s one of his fave ways of being affectionate. 

San.ji….San.ji would prepare a meal to compliment his own taste don’t tell me he wouldn’t. The guy takes great pride in his skills as a chef and expects to be savored just as much as his meals. He probably likes it the most out of the crew just because he likes being enjoyed as a gourmet meal lol. He wants to be eaten by Na.mi. She’s not gonna do that.

Aaannddd last is Us.opp lmao. I love him so much he’s such a nervous prey who lies his head off about how absolutely not worried or grossed out he is and how he’s absolutely done stuff like this before all the time totally. Still, regardless of all that he trusts Lu.ffy with his life and has gotten, very used to the whole getting eaten thing. Can and will make himself very comfy inside and kinda hide out for a bit.