#i promise i'm gonna do other characters some time soon :D

[freuleinanna]

postcards

Characters: Travis Hackett Chosen ending: The Hacketts are all dead except Travis, Laura survives Short summary: Travis is trying to cope with the trauma of losing his family as best he can (which is not good at all). At the same time, unsigned postcards start to arrive. Words count: 2595 (trauma, healing)

Tags: @b33barlowsstuff, @imperfectjam, @sera-wonderland, @strawberryoverkill, @hrefna-the-raven (tagging my Travis squad, though it's ok if this one's not to your liking)

(I don't pretend to write master psychology or trauma, so I'm sorry if you hate it, but a Travis!meta thought wrote itself into a fic, plus I'm still on my Travis x Laura enemies-to-slightly-less-enemies-with-connection bullshit, oops)

September, 26 This feels stupid.

(no date)

fix the fence

buy coffee

start those quarterly reports !

check podcast  nothing new

(no date) No, I know, it ain't it. I'll try tomorrow. Can't think of anything worth saying.

October, 6 Here's the thing. Chris used to keep a journal. He said it helped, and I owe it to him to try. Just gotta write whatever's on my mind or stuff that happened. So. Drank a beer. Took another patrol shift. Way behind on the quarterlies, really gotta start on them now. What else?

God, what a load of crap. Chris is dead. Bobby's dead. Caleb's dead. Kaylee's dead. Dad's dead.

That's what's on my fucking mind.

October, 7 Ma is dead. There, I wrote it. Feels good. Not that she's    I don't mean fuck

October, 19 Full moon yesterday. Didn't know what else to do, so I started packing. Unpacked around dawn. I don’t need silver bullets anymore.

October, 27 A postcard came from NY. Weird. Nothing but the sender's address. Threw it out.

October, 31 Fucking habits.

I was patrolling, and drove to the camp site. Didn't mean to, just sort of ended up here. Sat in the car like an idiot looking at the windows. Usually, one would be lit. I'd get out, come in, we'd crack a couple of cold ones. I can’t bring myself to //

A bunch of kids just tried to break in on camp's grounds. I think they were looking for a place to get wasted on a Halloween night, which I completely forgot about. One of them was dressed as a werewolf and kept howling. For a moment, I thought Anyway. Scaring the shit out of them felt good. Shouting, too. Disrespectful assholes didn't have any right to be here. Not here.

PS. Almost called Chris to tell the story and have a good laugh.

November, 14 Sent in the quarterly reports last week. WAY overdue. Things kind of  lose their importance, even I know it’s not a good sign. Everything that happens swooshes right through my brain, in and out, like a bullet. Maybe a bullet is what I need

That last part came out of nowhere. I'm not really thinking it. I mean I wasn't, but now that I wrote it, I obviously am. Shit! This whole journal thing is fucking my brain up. Great advice, C. Real nice. It should be helping, not making more mess. How am I supposed to figure it out?

No, fuck that. Ma raised us better than self-pity.

But then, Ma also raised us to protect the family.

November, 19 Full moon. I still measure time by calendar marks. Three moons ago they were all alive.

December, 18 Full moon.

December, 26 Another postcard came. Obnoxious Christmassy stuff, with one snowman sneezing the carrot out and another dodging it and shouting 'I'm okay!' Nothing more, nothing less. Someone must have screwed up the address. This had better stop.

Anyway, this past month. Nothing much to say, I was clearing out the house. Couldn't be there with all of the rooms untouched, so. Yeah. That's it. Done the job.

(later) No, I shouldn't lie, should I? What's even the point.

It smells empty now, the house. Desolate. Like a place where people haven't lived for a long time, even though I've literally been there. I can't seem to fill it up on my own. I'm not enough.

Many things there. Memories. Found Bobby's old book about horses. He fucking loved horses, that kid. Couldn't remember where he put his shoes but recited dozens of breeds by heart. He dreamt we'd turn the house into a ranch. It was that one year when our folks shut the Quarry down cause Bobby was getting bigger, and more and more different, and he needed more attention instead of less. He was obsessed with the idea for months, driving Ma insane. Chris finally had to step in and say, 'Hey, I'll do you one better. We'll reopen the camp, and you'll have lots of kids to play with, how's that?' Bobby almost shat his pants with happiness. Poor lonely kid. I was too grown-up and off to college, and Chris was too… I don’t want to say normal, but maybe he was. He had his own friends. Bobby was with Ma most of the time and Ma was… well, she was Ma. Out of us three, Chris was the only one who had his special way with her. So they decided to reopen. I don't know if Bobby ever remembered the ranch idea again because I think, from then on, he slept and saw himself with a bunch of kids playing together on the camp's grounds.

Spent half an hour on the floor with that goddamn book, nearly crying. We should have got the fucking horses.

January, 17 Full moon. Don't know why I keep doing that.

January, 27 Moved into the station a couple of weeks ago. With all that space in the house, there's just too much, well, space. I'm used to having a big family, that’s the thing. Another habit. Anyone who grew up with one would know, it sinks it teeth in and doesn't let go.

Even C. and I, we went away for college only to come back home. I think, by then it had already been late. That's how Ma rasied us, always keep close to your family and care for it as best you can. We learned it with Bobby, and then with Chris's kids when they came along. We had been a wolf pack long before half of us turned into wolves. The house is cracked in the corners and crooked all over, and we were, too, with our issues and complicated relationships. It was never simple. At least, I knew who I was when I was there. A son, an elder brother, an uncle, lots and lots of strings upon strings. I don't really know who I am now. A survivor, I guess. I survived my family. Any one of us would say that's worth a gold fucking medal.

February, 3 Apparently, in order for it to help, it's supposed to hurt. Catharsis.

Don't have much time to write, but I got on one of those websites for people who lost someone. There are therapists there, too, so you can talk to them if you need to.

Long story short, after a few false-starts, I found Doc Morgan. She was okay. Talked to me for a while about loss, about myself, too. How I’m eating, how I’m sleeping, agitations, fixations. There was, surprisingly, a lot to say. That’s when the catharsis thing came up, I was talking about how Chris was writing and I was trying, too, but it wasn’t working. Then she started asking questions about my family and how I lost them, when it happened (this I could answer) and how (this I couldn't), so I had to drop it.

Before that, she also said I 'harbor a lot of guilt'. No shit, Doc. I wish there was someone to talk about it with. Someone who knew the truth.

Catharsis, huh? Shit.

March, 8 Thirty-five years on the force, and that’s the first time it happens. Got shot on the job. Nothing deadly, a bullet in the arm. Had to wear a cast for a month, so writing is more of an exercise now. Some punk was trying to rob the petrol station, things went south, and I got a bullet, that’s it. Guess hunting werewolves makes you cocky enough to underestimate an ordinary dick with a gun.

Anyway, the whole thing blew out of proportion, and I got handed an award and got my picture taken. Sweet fucking Jesus. I bet they knew there’s no other fool who’d agree to patrol this god-forsaken piece of land, so they were sucking up like hell.

Two new postcards came. This is getting annoying. Haven’t had a look yet, just noticed them in the mail box.

February 16 was the full moon. Still restless.

March, 9 ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME.

The postcards. Almost forgot about them again, but went to take a look.

One looks kind of vintage, with two dogs sharing a bone and the ‘I don’t have a bone to pick with you’ phrase in a heinous font. The other is a goddamn get-well card sent by post.

I looked the address up, should have done that long ago (some cop!). It’s a dorm address, for the NYS College of Veterinary Medicine at Cornell University. A vet college.

I don’t know if I’m tired or pissed. Both. Pissed, more. Who does she think she is sending me postcards? Why? Is this a joke, does she think we’re friends? Why would I ever want to hear from her? What in hell are those writings? Got a hold of the previous card, the Christmas one. ‘I’m okay’. And now, ‘I don’t have a bone to pick with you’. God, and the get-well one, too. She must have checked the local papers to see that article. The sheer ARROGANCE. Should have left her right there in that basement with Chris.

(later) Got so wound up that I drove to the nearest post office. Picked the one white card there, the one you’re supposed to draw on to make it personal. Left it blank, wrote STOP IT on the back, and sent right away. This has got to end.

March, 18 Full moon. Up all night again. This, too, has got to end.

March, 26 Went patrolling again and drove to the Quarry by the end of the shift. There’s nothing horrifying on uneasy about it in morning light, just a bunch of wooden cabins with sun shining on the surface of the lake. Almost peaceful. Walked around for a while there, thinking. You’d never guess how close to the earth lie the dark secrets hidden all around.

I don’t know what to do with it. The main cottage is ruined, and I don’t exactly have the time or money to repair it. Even if I did, I certainly can’t run it on my own. Chris knew his way around, he loved it. Really, loved it. Spent hours designing improvement plans, or getting the best deals for food delivery, or talking with kids. He was a natural. I’m no Chris. I can’t really fill his shoes, never could.

I’ll probably have to shut it down or resell. The thought doesn’t sit right. I’m on the verge of the right, reasonable decision but can’t make it for the life of me. It’s all wrong.

April, 4 A postcard came. Of course. I guess I felt it in my guts that it would.

A profound-quote kind this time, the type that’s used for aesthetics, not for actual posting.

Stood by the mail box for a good minute. I think I understand now.

Catharsis.

April, 13 It’s time now, makes no sense to postpone it any longer. In order for it to help, it’s supposed to hurt.

I have always, all my life, tried to be a good person. Do the right thing, make the right decisions. I am a police officer, for God’s sake, have been for thirty-five years. I swore to protect people. But Ma also raised us to protect the family. What does one do when being a good person contradicts being a good brother, a good son?

I harbor a lot of guilt, Doc Morgan said. Damn right, I do. Good people, innocent people died, because I made a choice. All it takes is one broken oath, because once you break it, there’s no going back. There’s no clear path, nowhere to put your loyalty. All you can do is keep going, further and further into the woods. And along that road, there’s always a choice. People you don’t know, whom you’d sworn to protect, or your family, whom you love. Who do you protect? Whose life do you save? They don’t have answers in the police academy. It’s like that ethical problem where you’re riding a trolley without any sort of brakes, and if you keep on your track, you’ll kill a bunch of people, but if you make a choice to pull the lever and switch the trolley to another track, you’ll only kill one. They say the answer is often ‘don’t switch, don’t take that responsibility, let it ride’. Here’s where the catch comes in. What if those people are your family? One stranger seems like a reasonable enough sacrifice to save the ones you love. Here’s another catch. What if this situation comes up over, and over, and over again? And what if you pull the lever so many times that the pile of bodies grows out of control? Does a good person still do it? Does a good son?

He does, it turns out, because no one ever says: enough. Not one damn person. Dad didn’t say it, Ma certainly never did, not even Chris. The good son, the golden son. I can’t hold it against him, really, we all loved him. He was the kind of person who made everything better simply by showing up with his broad smile and stupid jokes. It just so happened, that the choice was mine, and there were always switches, and Chris was always on the tracks. His children, too. Ultimately, all of us. And once I stopped making that damn choice, the trolley rode right through.

‘Guilt is a ravenous creature,’ that’s what it said, on the postcard. It is, indeed. It’s the never-ending tear between ‘what if I never pulled the lever’ and ‘what if I pulled it just one more time’. It’s people you swore to protect but didn’t, and family you were raised to protect but didn’t. The guilt of not being a good person and not being a good son.

I’ve split myself over it so much I can hardly feel the halves, so I’m saying: enough. I’ve done enough. I’d loved them and protected them as best I could but the truth is, the most important choice is to stop sitting in a crashed trolley contemplating your choices. One person with a rope can’t pull everyone else back from the well. At some point, you’ve got to decide to cut the rope. I’m doing just that. I’ve spent enough time being a good brother and son. Maybe I can try being a good person again now.

April, 14 Went to send a postcard. I don’t know what she’s gonna make of it and if she understands at all. The whole thing is just too hard to explain. Catharsis.

For a second, I even thought of tearing out the last entry and sending it as a letter, but shit, the drama. So I went to the camp and took one of the Quarry postcards instead, from the souvenirs stand. Didn’t know what to write. Then just wrote THANK YOU. Maybe it helps her guilt, too, the one that’s been making her send those cards.

I hope so. God, I hope she understands.

April, 17 Full moon yesterday. Slept through it.

May, 1 The answer came. LIKEWISE. She did understand.

//

//

//

P.S. July, 7 I didn’t plan on writing anything else, but then another card came. A happy-birthday card, an absolutely idiotic one, with printed cake, and candles, and confetti.

I’m not even gonna ask how the hell she knew.

But then again, I could always send a postcard and find out.

[halfvalid]

pretty in that

ABOUT

rating: general audiences

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro

author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!

You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze. 

Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too. 

“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling. 

“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?” 

Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded. 

“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?” 

“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it. 

“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.” 

“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back. 

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh. 

“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.” 

“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?” 

“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy. 

“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.” 

“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?” 

“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?” 

“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face. 

“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder. 

“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.

“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.” 

Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.” 

“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.” 

Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?” 

“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?” 

“Not really what I’m into.” 

“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”

“Three swords, three earrings.” 

“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?” 

“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day. 

“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on. 

You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry. 

“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled. 

“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said. 

You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.” 

Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?” 

“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?” 

“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.” 

“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?” 

“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?” 

“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.” 

“You always look nice.” 

You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.” 

Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.” 

Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said. 

“Better how?” 

“You can probably run in it.” 

You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep. 

Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes. 

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on. 

To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.” 

Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty? 

He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs. 

You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from. 

“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened. 

“Because of… clothing?” 

You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.” 

“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?” 

“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?” 

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” 

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until— 

Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling. 

Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size. 

You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising. 

Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.” 

You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it. 

Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.

Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?” 

“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.” 

“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—” 

“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.” 

‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?” 

“Yeah,” you said, voice limp. 

“Let me see.” 

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively. 

“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.” 

“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—” 

“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. 

“Oh.” 

Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.” 

There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point. 

You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked. 

“You’re acting weird.” 

“Am not.” 

Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”

“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.

“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.” 

You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.” 

“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins. 

“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”

Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”

“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid. 

“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—” 

“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.” 

Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him. 

“I said you looked pretty in this one.” 

“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—” 

“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.” 

Your breath caught. 

“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?” 

“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.” 

You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!” 

Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart. 

“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.” 

“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline. 

“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.” 

“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.

You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go. 

“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change. 

© halfvalid 2023

[sugarmouchie]

hello valentine! how are you? i hope life is being kind to you! i heard that your request is open, so i try to send something :D hopefully this isn't too much!

may i request haitham with inazuman fem!reader? let's say they met because she's pursuing education in akademiya. once she graduates, she spends some times working in sumeru. but of course, one day she need to go back to inazuma again. how are their long distant relationship look like? do he visit her sometimes? bonus point if she's the opposite of him, like emotional and sunshine type person (but not as loud as kaveh! no shade to him tho, i lobe him xD). of course you can adjust this request as much as you want~ no pressure at all xD

i think that's it! i'm sorry if i make grammarical mistakes or anything, english is not my mother tounge. but still, thanks in advance, dear valentine! 💖

a/n. so sorry this took a while to get to :') im trying my best to catch up with my inbox i promise, other than that,, thank you for the request anon! <3 i’m sick but i’m getting better !! :)

cw. fem!reader, reader is from inazuma, a bit of angst in the beginning (?), mentions of scara (my beloved), cyno, tighnari, kaveh and other characters, i got sorta lazy at the end LOL this was just supposed to be a little time after time fic ig? if that makes any sense like something happens then another thing happens i guess? idk LMAO

"you realize i won't be able to stay for long, right?" your weary voice catches onto his ears when you begin to speak.

with a facepalm, alhaitham replies, "of course, kaveh’s coming home soon so you’d have to go," alhaitham replies, to which you chuckled about.

"well," you pause, "that's not what i meant."

"haitham! stop rummaging through my papers!" you squeak when he attempts to help you, mentally face palming yourself.

"[name]," he looks at you, "people like to help each other, everyone's gotta help someone else some day."

ah, here he goes again.

you giggle.

"okay, okay," you roll your eyes in a playful manner, "well, go check up on kaveh, he's practically screaming your name at this point."

"i'd rather stay here with you," he interrupts.

does he know what will happen?

those words sent shivers down your spine.

yes, you two were in a healthy, established relationship, but what he does not know is that you took his words a completely different way.

all of a sudden, you hear someone walking over to the two of you, alhaitham right beside you instantly assuming it was kaveh.

"hey, you kids gotta go, the bell rang already."

...apparently not.

"stop thinking so hard about it [name]," alhaitham interrupts your train of thought.

"nothing's gonna happen either way, you do realize that if you don't get into [desired career], then there's multiple other options you have in here. we went here for a reason, right?"

...ah, his smart self always seemed to cheer you up, always enough to get rid of every thought in your brain possible, just like when he comforted you when you were panicking about what seemed like fifty different school assignments back in high school.

...

"let me help you," alhaitham spoke, instantly swiping the papers out of your hands.

"but-!?" you insist, but not quick enough since alhaitham was already looking for his glasses, the ones that kaveh gave him since he changed careers in high school.

"no 'but's," he interrupted you once more, your insists practically flying out of the already freezing cold window that was still going because of how hot it was inside your apartment.

...

back in the present time, he was tapping on the side of your head like it was a solid rock, but trying his best to be careful with you.

"you always zone out," alhaitham starts once more, interrupting your train of thought once more.

"and you always interrupt me," you roll your eyes, scoffing at him.

"you didn't even say anything though."

after you and alhaitham’s graduation, you’d decided that you would work in sumeru, with the special occasions of helping out alhaitham too.

"cyno! stop kicking sand onto me!" you laughed, trying not to get sand in your eyes as you were cleaning up the eremites' base.

“where’s tighnari?” you suddenly ask.

"he's on his way, he was dehydrated not too long ago until scaramouche gave him water," he replied, thinking back to the time he had to hand over the water that scaramouche gave him to tighnari who could barely even stand, breathing heavier than usual.

after that, he knew tighnari would take longer than expected to come visit both of you.

scaramouche, having just obtained the crown and lost it, he was more unmotivated than usual so you all knew that he wasn't going to come, considering how stubborn he was and how he refused requests almost all the time.

...and of course, kaveh was stressed out again.

after months and months, here you were, wking on the streets of inazuma with none other than kaveh, alhaitham’s stubborn roommate.

“do you know when you’ll be able to go back to sumeru?” kaveh suddenly asks you, to which you whipped your head to the left to look at him.

“erm… well, i did tell him that i’d have to leave one day but,” you paused, “he didn’t… understand.”

“what do you mean?” kaveh questioned with a gasp to which you let out a small laugh about.

“well, i told him a year ago that one day i’d have to leave and he instantly thought it was about you coming over so i would have to leave,” you replied, trying your best to explain to alhaitham’s blonde friend.

“well i guess that’s just how life works,” kaveh sighed, trying to attempt an emotional facade.

you laughed again.

…

ever since that day, you’ve met some people along the way of your journey back in your hometown, inazuma.

the summer shade of inazuma under certain sakura trees caught your attention when you were walking with ayaka.

the sight reminded you of how things would go downhill but alhaitham was always there with you.

the shade representing your emotions, and the petals representing alhaitham being by your side.

you thought it was cheesy, letting out a small giggle from it to which ayaka questioned you about.

she was the girl who had always thought you were different from any other person in inazuma, since you’ve never told her that you were previously in sumeru for a long period of time.

you looked over to her, your view meeting her confused face.

“…ayaka, i’m fine,” your weary tone of voice spoke.

“…right.”

…

and ever since that day, you and alhaitham always called over any devices that ayaka and thoma made for you.

thoma, having always practiced forging with ayato, has taken a very long time trying to make certain souvenirs for you and other trinkets.

you could never thank him enough for the device that he made for you in order to call alhaitham.

however, you never told thoma that you were in a relationship with a man from sumeru.

…

so when you told him, he was shocked.

to say the least.

…

“AND YOU NEVER TOLD US THAT PART!?” he practically screamed.

“…”

“i knew you would act like this,” ayato came up from behind.

and well, so in conclusion, you and alhaitham’s relationship was… pretty much perfect!

the only downside was that you could never find ways to convince ayato to drive you back to sumeru, but you had your ways to convince him.

“alhaitham, hi!” thoma yelled, seeing his camera on screen from a few meters away behind you.

“THOMA—“

@sugarmouchie do not copy/translate/repost on other platforms please and thank uu 🤍

[dontwalkwiththedead]

Muses and Rules.

C A N O N C H A R A C T E R S

Rick Grimes

"I don't take chances anymore."

Daryl Dixon

"Is that supposed to make me like you?"

Beth Greene

"I've survived and you don't get it,"

[ Note ] : These canon characters are the ones I've had the most experience playing and feel the most comfortable using as canon leads in a plot or ship. With that being said, there are other canon characters I'm very willing to play as side characters in a plot. :) Shane Walsh. Carol Peletier. Simon. Glenn Rhee. Hershel Greene. Carl Grimes. Sophia Peletier. Lydia.

No matter who I play canon-wise, I try my best to portray them as accurately as I can, while incorporating my own twists.

C O M I C C H A R A C T E R S.

Billy Greene

fc: Jonah Hauer-King https://docs.google.com/document/d/1pEgoeED0hsZZ0MDCty5m-0DRiPDSsp1VS1tEORNWxEY/edit?usp=sharing

"I just wanted to play my fucking drums."

Jeffery Grimes

fc: Alex Pettyfer bio coming soon

"Tell Rick Grimes, Jeffery's looking for him."

O C C H A R A C T E R S.

Peter Dixon

fc: Charlie Heaton

"You goin' in, or should I?"

Alice Henley

fc: Emilia Clarke

"I'm gonna cut off your dick, let you bleed out, then when you turn I'll feed it to you. How does that sound for serious?"

S H I P S.

( MxM, FxF, MxF. )

Canon Rick x Negan Rick x Daryl Rick x Andrea Rick x Michonne Daryl x Beth Daryl x Carol Daryl x Negan Daryl x Glenn Beth x Negan Beth x Daryl Beth x Tara Beth x Andrea Beth x Glenn ( Don't be afraid to pitch a canon ship that isn't listed here! In any ships involving Beth, she will be 18+ )

Ocs Alice x Rick Alice x Negan Alice x Daryl Alice x Andrea Alice x Tara Alice x Maggie Alice x Beth Peter x Beth Peter x Glenn Peter x Negan Peter x Rick Peter x Andrea Peter x Governor

( Don't be afraid to ship Alice or Peter with your OC or a canon character not listed. I'm open to most ideas! )

R U L E S.

(I promise I'm not mean, I just know what I like! &lt;3 )

(18+) ONLY. I don't feel comfortable writing with minors.

MUST be okay with NSFW content. I will always respect your triggers but would like any plots we do to include some level of violence and smut. If you don't like these themes, no shame, we just aren't the right fit.

No pre-established romantic relationships. (I do make rare exceptions for this depending on the plot.)

I love ocs. I've had some incredible roleplays with amazing ones and will never turn you down for wanting to use yours. WITH THAT BEING SAID--I heavily prefer well-thought out ocs with bios, not blurbs. If I'm going to write a canon character against yours, they have to be fleshed out. I don't want their whole personality and creation to revolve around being with a canon character. It's boring. I'm here for plots and character development, not to solely fulfill fantasies. My ocs have flaws, strengths, backgrounds and can hold their own in a plot without a ship. It makes the story more exciting!

5. Pretty please put effort into the plot and the characters you play. I love smut but don't just want to write smut, or constantly have my character saving yours. I want there to be things happening around our characters, not just to them.

6. Don't pressure me for replies. I work in film and in a bar. Sometimes I get insanely busy. Most times I'm free. I will always do my best to communicate when I'm not, but if you pressure me, I simply won't respond. Especially if I don't respond for an hour and you message me three times. (With that being said if I haven't responded in like a week, feel free to follow up.)

7. If you've read this far, come say hello! I don't bite. :)

[animcsus]

As a genuine note for folks, so that you are all aware as to why I moved blogs:

I left the previous blog to rid my dash of negativity and the people that followed me to have me as a mutual and then ignore the existence of the blog. This said: I do not tolerate and will hard block on sight for racism of any kind, vague blogging, hateful shit talk of characters ( I.e, this character should d!e comments unless it's krell honestly fuck that guy ) unhinged "Takes" on characters (I have seen some really bad ones for hunter) and hate towards other writers. We're all here to have a good time and make this a nice, fun place to be. We shouldn't be stressing about who's gonna be negative about our muses next. That makes for a toxic environment. I'm here to write. I'm not here to talk politics and world events. I'm not here to be ignored. If I followed you, I can see us interacting... but if I feel like I'm bothering people, I tend to step back and stop reaching out. I'm literally not a mean person. I want to have fun. I'm stressed, so often times when I'm on, I want to write stuff. I cannot express how happy I am for anyone that's reached out so far and sent things for me to answer. I promise most of it is sitting in my drafts and as soon as I can kick my depression in the ass, I will be responding to things. I'm doing my best! I'm far easier to reach on discord than I am here. If you want my user there, just ask. I'm more than happy to plot things!

This being said: The Bad Batch season 3 comes out this month.

I will be tagging it under Spoilers // to keep my blog out of sight of the show tags.

I have a muse or two that will likely be in the next season!! This means I'll be sharing my thoughts! (For sure Hunter!)

If you guys want muse views before the show comes out feel free to ask. I normally struggle to collect my thoughts without a guideline on how to explain headcanons in anything longer than one sentence.

If you want to yell at me about stuff (nicely) that happens in the series, I beg that you shoot a message! I love talking about new stuff in the shows!

[the-light-finds-its-way]

It's been a long time since I wrote anything about Vandus-1, a character that came to me in a dream. He was a Vex severed from the hive mind only partially, but came to Titan me, and asked for help to be fully severed from it. So I took him to Europa, and we fought through the Vex there, but one shot Vandus in the head, almost killing him. I quickly gathered Exo body parts, and hooked him up to them, afraid he wouldn't make it. After several hours, the Exo body awoke, and Vandus spoke in his own voice this time, thanking me. We broke out of the facility together, and made it back to the Tower.

Well!! I've got more content for y'all!! :D

Vandus one day feels something in his stomach. He's confused. It's like an empty rumbling...

"That's hunger," I tell him. "Let's go to the ramen shop!"

"What's ramen? What's hunger? I'm... so confused!!" Vandus cries. The rumbling comes once more, and Vandus grips his stomach, groaning.

I chuckled. "It's alright, man. You've never had to eat before, have you?"

He shakes his head. "I've heard of it, but Vex don't eat."

"You're gonna love it!!" I tell him. And I direct him toward the ramen shop.

Once we sit down, the cook asks us what kind of ramen we want. I select salty, and Vandus, he just hesitates.

"He's never eaten anything before," I tell the cook. "He's... new."

Nodding, the cook just makes another bowl of salty ramen, and passes it to Vandus. "Try it! You'll love it!!" they say.

Vandus picks up the chopsticks awkwardly, holding both in his fist.

I chuckle. "Watch me," I say. I place the sticks properly in Vandus's hand, then show him how to pick up the ramen. I put it in my mouth, and chew, then swallow.

Vandus follows along, and puts some ramen in his mouth. Immediately, the lights of his eyes grow brighter, and he perks up. "By the Traveler!! This is amazing!!"

"Right?!"

There, Vandus quickly eats all the meal, and he deeply thanks the cook. "I'll be back as soon as I'm hungry again!" he says. "I... still don't know when that will be."

"Not very long if you're anything like me!" I tell him with a laugh. "Have you ever seen a movie?"

Vandus pauses. "What's that? Something to do with moving?"

"Sort of. C'mon." I take Vandus to the nearest movie theater, and pick out an animated film about talking animals helping one another escape a storm.

By the end, Vandus is standing up cheering and clapping.

I chuckle, and hug him close. His emotions are so pure, so real, so true. He is really free.

And then, it's toward the end of the day. Vandus's first ever day alive and free. Now, the Exo is feeling wobbly, his eyes are heavy, and he asks me what's going on.

"You're tired," I tell him. "It's been a long day, and you need to sleep."

"Sleep?" he asks.

"Yeah! Close your eyes, and just drift off for a few hours into your mind. And you'll wake up feeling better."

"But... what if I... don't wake up?"

"You will. I promise." I hold Vandus close, and smile. "Come with me. We'll go to the house, and I'll keep you close so you aren't alone. And then, we can sleep, and wake up together."

We walk back to my house, and I lead him to the bed. Pulling back the covers and blankets, Vandus climbs in and lays down. I go to the other side of the bed, and join him. Gently, I squeeze one hand of his, while covering us up with the second.

"It's ok, man. You'll be alright," I say. I close my eyes, and Vandus does the same. Together, we fall asleep, hand in hand, and several hours later, we both wake up.

I look at Vandus. "Did you imagine anything while you were asleep?" I ask.

He nods, smiling. "I imagined the animals from the movie climbing a hill, and eating at a picnic together. They had ramen! All of them loved it, and then, they took a short sleep together, holding each other close."

"That's called a nap," I tell him. "Sometimes, you get tired during the day, so you sleep for an hour or so, and wake up feeling better!"

"People sleep a lot, it seems..."

I laugh. "Oh, yeah. A lot. But that's part of the fun! It's a break from life!"

"But... I want to keep living! Forever!" Vandus says.

"And you will. Trust me," I say. "It's just... sometimes you have to take a break. Take it easy! If you do too many things before sleeping, it'll make you more tired more quickly. But if you want to have a lot of fun, I can take you to a Crucible match!!"

"Guardians? Fighting?!" he asks.

"Oh. It's SO much more than that," I tell him. "They put on a whole show and everything!!"

Vandus smiles. "I'd like that. I want to learn more about your kind. The Guardians."

And together, we go off to the Crucible, take our seats, and we watch a few matches together. Vandus cheers and shouts, and his eyes catch one Exo Warlock. This Warlock fights well, he uses his super and takes out the entire arena of opponents, and he absolutely kicks ass.

"What's this feeling?" Vandus asks me, eyes locked on the Warlock.

"Describe it, and I can tell you," I reply.

"Uhh... Happy. About him." Vandus points to the Warlock.

I gasp. "You're probably feeling love!" I tell him. "That's amazing!!"

"It is?"

"Yeah, man!! Come with me. I can help you out!" I grab Vandus's arm and drag him along with me, past the main arena, and up to Shaxx.

Shaxx is clearly elated. "Magnus! Who's this?" he asks. "I've never met this Exo before."

"This here's Vandus-1. And he wants to meet that Exo Warlock when the match is over," I tell him.

Shaxx chuckles. "I can arrange that! Sure!"

And Vandus grows tense. He hesitates, shifting anxiously in place. "What do I say? What should I tell him? What do I—"

"Just tell him your name, and take it from there!" I say.

There, the Exo Warlock walks out from the arena. He's grinning, though clearly exhausted, and chuckles. His green eyes look up, and land on Vandus, who jumps, and becomes still as a statue. The Warlock laughs. "No need to be scared, man! I've met Magnus here on the field! He's a friend! Are you a friend of his, too?"

Vandus nods. "He—he saved my life. Back on Io. I uhh... I'm... Vandus."

The Exo Warlock holds out a hand. "Talos-4," he replies. "You're... kinda cute! Like you don't know how to handle yourself."

"I... don't," Vandus tells him. He grabs the hand and shakes. "I... I like you how I like ramen."

"Is that good?" Talos asks.

I laugh. "VERY good," I say. "That's the only love he knows."

Talos nods, smiling. "Do you wanna go get some ramen?"

Vandus nods rapidly. "Mhm! Please!"

Talos drags Vandus into himself, and does a bridal dip, grinning as he looks directly into the Exo's eyes. "Been a while since I last saw a new Exo. Lemme introduce you to a few things you can do now, eh?" From there, he lifts the heavy Exo into his arms, and begins walking toward the exit. Talos looks back at me. "C'mon, wingman! Bring your boyfriend, too! Let's make it a double date!!"

[linawritestwst]

Congrats on 500+ followers!! For the evnt could i request for the adeuce combo + trey the colors =

Teal, blue, pink and magenta?

thank you anon!! i hope you enjoy what i wrote! btw i'm sorry if ace and trey are ooc they are kinda hard for me to write

ace trappola.

TEAL: "what's this character's type? what kind of person would be a perfect partner for him?"

hmm, i think ace would appreciate a s/o that has this chill and relaxed vibe? he would love a s/o that doesn't get offended that easily, he wouldn't have to worry about accidentally hurting their feelings with his jokes and pranks. if his s/o likes to cause some chaos and has a mischievous personality as well, that would be such a nice bonus! but also, it would be cool for his s/o to know when to stop, so that they could let ace know when he's crossing the line.

BLUE: "does this character tend to miss his s/o often or is he more independent?"

hehe, i can see ace trying to hide the fact that he misses his s/o and pretending to be okay with not seeing them for a long time. but also, ace can actually be surprisingly patient, so if you need to spend some time alone or you're too busy to see him, he'll understand. but promise him that you will definitely hang out together as soon as you're free, okay?

PINK: "how does this character confess to his crush? is it easy for him or he needs a lot of time?"

yeah, ace doesn't want to admit it, but he feels pretty nervous about confessing to you. there's a big chance that you'll say no to him.. but hey, you can still be friends, right? and ace knows that you (most likely) won't get mad at him for confessing to you and you won't think that he ruined your friendship this way. so, he has nothing to lose. ace stutters a bit when confessing to you and you notice that he's still feeling kinda anxious, but he becomes more confident when he almost finishes the confession. he smiles and looks into your eyes, waiting for your answer.

MAGENTA: "how does this character realize he's in love?"

ace probably has some experience with this, because he's already dated a girl before, but.. nah, i still think he can get a bit oblivious sometimes. i can imagine ace being that kind of person who can easily recognize when someone else has a crush, but when he gets a crush himself, he's like "yeah, y/n is a nice friend, i like their smile, their laugh, their eyes, they're really kind and- oh no." i think he realizes that he's in love while simply hanging out with you. like, he looks at you or listens to your voice and something just hits him. his brain goes "wow. i actually love them a lot.. now what do i do with this information."

—————————♡—————————

deuce spade.

TEAL: "what's this character's type? what kind of person would be a perfect partner for him?"

i'm gonna say it. i think deuce either likes VERY kind people, like, you look at them and think of them as actual angels OR he really likes people who have this mature and reliable personality, people who are very understanding and give good advice. maybe he'd also love a combination of these traits? i think deuce just really wants a soft partner who can give him headpats or hugs and say "hehe, you've done well today :D"

BLUE: "does this character tend to miss his s/o often or is he more independent?"

like ace, i think he tends to miss his s/o a lot, but he's also very patient. of course, he's sad because he loves you so much and he wants to see you every day of his life, but he respects you and if you have something to deal with and you have to do it alone, he will give you as much time as you need.

PINK: "how does this character confess to his crush? is it easy for him or he needs a lot of time?"

this is NOT easy for him. not easy at all. he's so worried, he needs to think about it!! honestly, he would most likely spend months planning his confession and pining after you, if it wasn't for other heartslabyul students who decide to help him. they assure him that he's gonna be okay and you won't think he's weird. when he finally gains courage to do this, other students spy on you two while he's confessing to you.

MAGENTA for deuce has already been done here!

—————————♡—————————

trey clover.

TEAL: "what's this character's type? what kind of person would be a perfect partner for him?"

i think trey would like another "parent friend" kind of person as his s/o. someone who understands what he has to deal with, someone who can help him out and who can be a good listener. being a heartslabyul vice dorm leader feels like being a kindergarten teacher sometimes, so he would appreciate a s/o who can make him feel relaxed.

BLUE: "does this character tend to miss his s/o often or is he more independent?"

hm, i think trey is more of an independent type. no, he definitely misses you, but he isn't worried about it as much as some other boys would be. he's sure that you'll be fine and he doesn't ask you questions like "when are we gonna be able to see each other" or "when are you free", he will simply go on with his daily life.

PINK: "how does this character confess to his crush? is it easy for him or he needs a lot of time?"

.. it's not easy for him to confess to you. he plans it very carefully, he doesn't want to scare you. yes, he's nervous about it, but in the end, he realizes that he simply has to hope for the best. he can't control your reaction to his confession. when he actually does confess, it sounds like he wasn't worried about this at all and he does it perfectly, but trust me, this guy is actually really anxious.

MAGENTA: "how does this character realize he's in love?"

trey is.. not a romance expert. he's very good at helping others with their feelings, but he doesn't know what to do with his own feelings for you. honestly, he just hopes they'll go away, so that they don't distract him that much and they don't make everything more difficult. but being in love with you also feels kinda nice?.. he most likely realizes that he's in love with you, when he finally sits down and thinks about it. everything starts making more sense to him and even though he'd love to use a "oh, i just really like them as friend" excuse, trey knows that it's not true. these feelings are definitely something more.

[scaracoochies]

‘Tis the season!

Summary: A short series of genshin characters & reader doing holiday activities

Category: Fluff

Reader: Gender Neutral

AN: Hello Readers! >:) I’m gonna be honest, I had intentions to upload this on Christmas but the holidays have been pretty hectic (as they normally are) so lets just pretend that it’s still Christmas and all of you are in your comfy pajamas drinking hot coco and eating cookies by the fire and shit. Enjoy >:D

Also I will be adding to this series as I have more unfinished ideas so expect other characters very soon!

❅ Venti ~ Christmas Caroling

"Come on out Reader, I'm sure you look magnificent as ever! ...Heh, not to mention we're already late."

You stomped out of your room in a ridiculous elf costume, staring down at your overly optimistic companion. Venti put his hand on his chin while looking your frame up and down.

"I'll never forgive you for this." Venti silently dismissed your comment and continued to inspect your new look.

"See, it's not that bad! Actually, it turned out a lot better on you than I originally thought!" Venti grinned while scratching the back of his head, a clear attempt to uplift your spirits.

"Venti, I look STUPID. These oversized ears are corny as hell and I can't feel my toes in these shoes- Also why are the reds two different shades?!" you groaned in agony. You almost started to laugh at how humorous this disaster of a costume looked. "And you look so much better than me- Venti, I never agreed to this! I said I would help you FIND a replacement. Not BE it!"

Venti spoke up after letting you blow off some frustration, making sure to choose his next words carefully.

"But why waste time finding a replacement when the best option is sitting right here! I swear to Barbatos that I will make this an enjoyable experience for you." Venti held his hand over his heart dramatically.

You didn't feel any better in the slightest. The costume fit your body awkwardly and the sheer idea of standing out in the cold singing as Santa's gremlin was less than ideal.

You walked away from Venti to go sit in a corner and sulk, causing him to sigh at another failed attempt. He had to think fast if you both were going to make it there and going without you when he had already promised everyone you'd be there was not within his plan.

Then suddenly, Venti perked up with a great idea in mind. He quickly changed his tone to one of defeat.

"Alright then. I suppose if you truly don't wish to go, it is understandable. And the poor Ragnvindr brothers just seemed so excited to see you there. Guess I've got to break the bad news to them." Venti said with a mischievous smile.

Though his voice appeared remorseful, his face on the other hand did not. Your back was facing him and even you could see through his farce.

"Ugh, Fine. You win."

"Perfect! We should be on our-" you stopped Venti before he could celebrate too much. "Not so fast." you stood up and faced him, completely serious.

Venti turned and looked at you in confusion, his bright eyes laced with concern.

"Huh, what's wrong now?"

"I'll go but only under one condition." A devious smirk grew on your face as the suspense slowly brought Venti’s breathing to a halt. Though you knew it would need some adjusting, you rather go as Santa than his dumb elf.

"We switch costumes of course."

❅ Diluc ~ Making Hot Coco

You hopped down off of the stool and looked back up at your work. A smile of satisfaction slowly spreading across your face.

"There! That’s the last of it." You had just finished your shift at the Angel Share cafe and had offered to stay behind to help finish decorating the place. You loved working here, often coming here even in your free time to enjoy the cozy atmosphere. Not to mention it appeared even more magical during this time of year.

Diluc gently sat the glass he was drying down on the counter and walked over to your side. You watched as Diluc skimmed over the final result.

"Hmm, Nice!" He said flashing you a warm smile. "Thank you again for the help. I should have you assist with decorating more often."

"Oh stop- you flatter me," you confessed. "...Please, keep going." Diluc rolled his eyes in amusement, dismissing your blatant honesty to be nothing more than a mere joke.

"Here, let me treat you to a cup of hot chocolate before you leave for the night. I've been testing out a new recipe and I figured you’d be just the right person to try it out. If you have the spare time, that is."

Diluc was always so gentle and inviting with his words- you couldn't help but notice that his features were far more relaxed now then throughout the usual shift hours. The thought of spending time alone with Diluc enticed you to stay, and without a second thought you said-

"Well who would I be to turn down a free drink?"

...

You followed Diluc to the main counter and pulled out a chair. He then began to gather all of the needed ingredients and placed them off to the side one by one.

"Hey Diluc?”

"Yes?" The barista whipped his head around at the sound of his name. Diluc currently had his hair in a signature high ponytail and with every move, it swayed along his broad shoulders.

"Is there anything else you think you'll need help with tomorrow? I could certainly use the free hot chocolate more often." you teased, earning a low chuckle from the barista. You brought your arm to rest on the counter, watching patiently as Diluc prepared your drink.

"No need. You're welcome to sit down for a drink anytime. I actually quite enjoy the company." His kindness made your smile grow even bigger.

The two of you chatted in the meantime until Diluc was finished. It didn't take long of course as it was just hot chocolate. Holding up a bottle of whip cream for you to see, Diluc asked if you would like any.

You nodded your head eagerly. "Oh, of course."

After spraying on a decent amount of whip cream, Diluc placed your drink before you.

"I made sure to use milk so it shouldn't be too hot to drink. But I suppose you'll be able to determine that for yourself." he said lowly. Taking a step back, Diluc watched in anticipation as you cautiously picked up the mug. You brought it to your lips, the steam and warmth from the cup bringing heat to your hands and face instantly. The very moment the warm liquid slipped past your lips you were immediately filled with the sweet taste of whip cream and a distinct blend of cinnamon & spice. You hummed in satisfaction at the taste.

"How is it?" Diluc asked. It was safe to say that your reaction was telling enough. You hesitated as you pondered your answer.

"Eh, I had better."

Diluc froze with his lips parted slightly. The shop quickly became even more silent then before.

You took another sip before placing the mug back down. "I'm just messing with you- It’s the best I ever had!" You exclaimed, shooting him a toothy grin. "You’ve got to add this to the menu, immediately!"

Diluc let out the breathe he was holding and placed a hand on his hip. "Please, don’t scare me like that."

[valleynix]

So I have reached the final chapter (for now it is)

The lvl of stress when Reader wanted to leave the room but Dani was blocking the door 🔼🔼🔼

Daniela, I love you but MOVE.

Anyway, LUNATIC IS GETTING SOFT????

It would be cute to have them see the Dimis through Reader's eyes and slowly grow fond of them 😭

And Dani mentioned before that sometimes Reader's scent is different, when they blackout and Lunatic takes over their body, so basically Lunatic sometimes hangs out with them.

It breaks my heart and makes me sad when Lunatic's all beaten up calling for mother, but Miranda couldn't care less :(

I wish they would join forces with Reader.

This chapter was full of pain too but thank you for the sweet family moment with all of them at the end 😭

Pls the sisters bickering and Cass' conversation with Alcina were so cute I was giggling the whole time.

I do hope tho, that Reader will have a conversation with all of them and at least briefly explain that there may come the day that they'll be in danger. Because rn they simply don't believe Reader would harm them or are like "we won't let anything happen to you🥺" while it's them that may die😭

It's also hard to listen to Reader and just do what they say to stay safe if they're kept in dark and confused.

Like if Dani knew what was going on perhaps she would just let them out of the room the first time they tried to fix things.

Anyway, my journey came to a stop for now, unfortunately. There's no other way than to patiently wait for the next chapter to be released (I hope I won't forget the events till then😭).

So let me say again that I love how you wrote the Dimis. It's actually my first fic with Alcina being a more significant character so I didn't come across any awful way she was written but I heard that some people say she's a bad mom so I'm glad to see her caring for and being soft with her lil fly babies. Because she does in canon too, clearly.

I didn't have any issues with Bela in fics either. But hell I am tired of the way Cassandra is, so I absolutely adore the one in the universe of your fic, I think she certainly is unique.

And Daniela. We know well about Daniela😭 So thank you so much for showing the world the Dani you created. She's such a sweet ball full of joyful energy and she does seem different from her sisters but girl's not stupid and understands what's going on around her.

And I will say again that I like the way you write in general, it's a pleasure to read it and don't worry, it does make sense :)

listen, i promise to have the next chapter out relatively soon?? i’ve been so busy with school and just in general being unable to focus :’)

BUT ANYWAY

*poor baby didn’t understand the urgency and why they couldn’t take time to explain everything :( she’s trying her best and that’s all that matters

*i feel we’re definitely getting into some territory where maybe, just maybe, Lunatic is starting to realize Miranda may not care as much as she claims to. like you said, the angst in them crying and calling out for her, only for her to not even spare them a glance? yeah, they definitely noticed (although in the moment, it became rage directed at Reader instead)

*i can tell you with certainty that Lunatic has hung out with them unintentionally 😭 they don’t ever do anything without Miranda’s orders, so they’ll just sit there all stiff with their lip curled. meanwhile, Dani sees and smells that it’s not really them, just watching them with a “what the fuck” face

*hehe, i tried to make it softer toward the end :D and give Cass some motherly love that most people don’t ever give to her. i need more of them just being a family rather than whatever the hell some people do to them 😭

*the irony of the “we won’t let anything happen to you!” 💀 like, yeah, nothing WILL happen to Reader, but y’all are gonna be in danger pls. but we’ll start to slowly see where they do notice things and start to put pieces together (as Bela is actually doing in chapter fifteen as of now), and a certain someone has already pieced together that they’re not all they seem, that maybe there’s a reason they smelled so strongly of Miranda…

*definitely! i have something special with that planned this chapter, though i won’t say who ends up knocking some sense into Reader (though you can probably guess who)

*hehe, i’m really glad you like it so far!! and i am hoping to not have as much angst with the next like, 1-2 chapters. still some because i’m incapable of writing a chapter without it apparently, but nothing as bad as what happened in 13&14. i have about 5k rn and there’s a bit of angst in the beginning and i have some planned later, but it’s all good for plot, i promise 😎

ack, i hate how much people just think or assume she would mistreat them for any reason whatsoever. and the people who make her hurt her lil babies for the sake of a Reader/OC… i have some words to exchange with them, oh my god

i do try my best to write them as “canon” as possible, even if there are a few moments here and there where they may be OOC. they still all have their own interests and hobbies outside of whatever Reader is doing in their spare time, and i feel plenty of people don’t do that well enough ?

i have such an issue with the way people write Dani and Cass, my god 😭 Dani may be a little out of touch with reality and may struggle with the concept of personal space sometimes, but she’s still smart and an adult, not some toddler that doesn’t understand a single thing going on. and people writing Cass like she’s nothing more than a cold-hearted, horny, sadistic person with absolutely no care for her family or partner is so bland. let the girl be aloof on the outside but care deeply once she lets people in!!

it’s been so fun to read your thoughts on what’s going on and the interactions between everyone, and i look forward to what else you’ll have to say when i (eventually) write chapter fifteen :-)

i might post an actual excerpt later, but in the meantime, here’s a cute lil snippet of a scene i have planned with our very sweet but very energetic Dani <3

[linawritesocs]

Ahaha, I'm going for the deep questions! For whoever you'd like to answer for!

WHAT WOULD YOUR CHARACTER(S) DO?

1. if they found out they only have a short amount of time left to live?

5. if they found a magic lamp with a genie inside?

9. if their greatest secret was revealed?

ohh, we're going DEEP, i see! i hope you find these answers interesting then! :D

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

1. if they found out they only have a short amount of time left to live?

riley: .. well, that's a bit sad. he knows that a lot of people love him and even though it annoyed him in the past, now he doesn't want to think about them finding out about his death. he doesn't really care about his life and he's not that afraid of death, but he doesn't want other people to worry about him and be sad when he's gone. his family, other students, vance, maybe even allen doesn't want riley to die. and again, riley doesn't mind dying, he's not scared of it, but he still wants to be there for others. if only there was a way- wait a minute, wasn't there someone from ramshackle who had a very useful unique magic?

angel: well, if they're gonna die soon, they will make sure their last days are fun and memorable! they will take care of their dorm members' problems, they will spend some time with friends, they just want to have as much fun as they can before they die. but when it's finally time for them to go, they realize.. they don't want to die. angel has so much to do here, they still need to help other people, they need their help, what will they do without angel? angel is the only person who can help those people, so can't you give them more ti-

5. if they found a magic lamp with a genie inside?

vance: he's definitely that guy who will try to ask for more wishes. oh, he's not allowed to do that? fine, he'll try to come up with something else. so, three wishes, huh? okay, first of all, he wants those games that he's been waiting for to come out tomorrow, he's getting impatient! his second wish is to stop falling when he's skateboarding, he's tired of accidentally injuring himself and he doesn't like it when people are worried about him. and his third wish.. what if he wishes to become a heartslabyul dorm leader? that's such an admirable position, he just knows that people will respect him and love him.. nah, he probably should wish for something different. how about being able to eat sweets without worrying about getting a sudden sugar rush?

9. if their greatest secret was revealed?

roland: he knew that he can't keep running away from his past. rsa students were already spreading gossips about him and they had suspicions about him being an ex-nrc student. roland just wanted to start a new life here, at rsa, he hoped that people won't know about what he did and why he had to transfer here. but when his secret is revealed, for some reason.. roland doesn't feel anything at first. he probably just wasn't good at hiding it, everyone can easily tell that he has a dark past. but then it suddenly hits him: avery knows about it too. avery knows about his past, he knows what his club leader was like. and that's when roland starts panicking. he wants avery to remember him as a good and responsible club leader, avery doesn't need to know about his past, this boy was one of the few rsa students who didn't judge him and who accepted him. roland has to tell avery that all of this is not true and that roland's past was better. roland doesn't want to lose avery's trust.

austin: he should've seen it coming. he hoped that merrill will keep his promise and that he will never tell anyone about it, but.. it looks like someone else has heard about austin's secret. and austin doesn't want to let that person just tell his secret to everyone else, especially crowley. the headmaster doesn't need to know how exactly austin managed to become a nrc student. austin will do anything to keep his secret, literally anything. no one has to know about his real homeland.

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 4)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 5.3k

warnings: smut!!, overstimulation, oral f receiving, lots of dirty talk and begging, very very subtle d/s dynamics if you squint, slight angst??, awkwardness, pining 

Bucky’s heart was racing as he tried to prepare himself for what was coming.  It was never easy to watch that scene of you being fucked by somebody else— even if it wasn’t real, and even if it was technically your character that was getting fucked— but it was going to be an entirely new struggle with you a foot away, laying next to him on your bed.

“We only did two takes of this,” you remembered, talking over the conversation on-screen.  The smash cut to you being shoved against a wall, lips fighting for dominance in a searing kiss, made you chuckle.  “This we had to do, like, a million takes.”

Bucky’s hand tightened into a fist at the idea of you kissing this guy over and over.  “I’m sure he was real broken up about that,” he grumbled sardonically.

“No, I promise he actually was,” you defended, “I was terrible.  I kept laughing and ruining it, and it meant we had to keep starting over.”

That relieved some of his jealousy, hopeful that laughing meant you weren’t attracted to your co-star or turned on by filming a love scene.  He still felt his heart clench as he watched your shirt get pushed up and two hands (both flesh, like he was showing off or something) grab at your breasts.  Sooner than he was prepared for it, you were being thrown down onto the bed and moaning loudly, nails digging into his back as he stared down at you.

“I can’t even imagine how many guys have gotten off to this scene,” you shuddered.

I can’t believe I’m one of them, Bucky thought as he swallowed dryly.  “What about the guys on set?” he wondered aloud.  “Do they ever, you know, get…” he whistled and pointed his finger up straight, hoping it was enough to get the idea across.

You laughed, playfully shoving him on the shoulder.  “They have tape for that, to keep everything down in case they get a little too into it.”

Glancing to the screen, he wondered how this guy didn’t pop the tape right off.

“Have you ever…?” Bucky pressed, heart rate picking up as he pushed the boundaries a little bit.

“Have I ever… been turned on, while filming?” you finished his question.  “No,” you scoffed, sounding bemused and taking another swig of your drink.

“Why not?”

“I guess they’re just not my type,” you shrugged.

“Movie stars aren’t your type?” Bucky joked, but your answer was completely serious.

“Nope.”

He nodded slowly as he contemplated that, taking a moment to build up the courage to ask his next question.  “What is your type?”

You smirked a little, and he wasn’t sure at all what it meant aside from the fact that he was done for.  Whatever you were gonna say was sure to break his heart.  “Tall, dark, not famous…”

He could so picture you picking up fans at bars; you must have no trouble at all finding guys to mess around with.  Yep, totally heartbreaking.

“Good driver…” you continued, voice a little quieter and a little deeper.

Bucky cleared his throat anxiously.  “I guess that rules me out.”

“What?  You’re great; haven’t even blown any red lights or made illegal U-turns.”

“I mean, good drivers don’t eavesdrop on their passengers,” he explained, “especially when they’re with tall, dark, not-famous friends of theirs in the back.”

You laughed a little, half-lidded eyes looking him up and down.  He felt very exposed under your gaze.  “I didn’t mind,” you shrugged.

Oh god, oh fuck, Bucky’s mind raced, we’re talking about it.  All this time and we’re finally talking about it.  What the fuck do I say?  “I still shouldn’t have—” he began.

“I wanted you to,” you interrupted firmly.

“You… wanted me to look?”

“Wanted you to do a lot more than that,” you admitted.

He looked back at you with wide eyes, entirely devoid of thoughts or words or ideas on what to do in the moment.  Sure, it was pretty heavy flirting, but it wasn’t necessarily an invitation.  You said wanted, past tense, it didn’t mean you wanted him now.  Maybe you were just letting him know he missed his chance.  If he did the wrong thing and upset you, he’d never forgive himself.

“Seemed like you were pretty satisfied with what he was doing,” he remembered, hearing the waver in his voice and cringing.

“Only cause I was thinking about you,” you grinned.  “I do that a lot, actually.  I’m just usually alone when I do it…”

He shivered as you shifted onto your side and leaned towards him, reaching across his body to set your beer down on the bedside table next to him; with you so close, he feared his heart would beat out of his chest.  With the beer set aside, all you had to do was let your hand pull back to rest on his chest, and lift your leg up to rest on his, and you were straddling his side like it was the most simple, casual thing in the world.

But it wasn’t.  It was the most insane thing that had ever happened to him.  He looked down at you and blinked a few times, confident the hallucation would end but nope, he could feel the warmth of you radiating through his clothes, threatening to burn him alive.

“I’m usually in this bed, right here,” you continued slowly, and he had trouble keeping track of what you were saying with your finger trailing along his chest through his shirt, “warm under the covers, wearing a lot less than this, knowing you’re just a few rooms away and wishing you would come in here and touch me…”

"I’m here now,” he replied, just louder than a whisper.  “Can I touch you?" 

“Take off the gloves,” you requested softly.  He was quick with the right one, but hesitated before removing the left— the moment of truth.  Your breath hitched as the light caught the golden and black metal, and he winced.

“That bad?”

“No, no,” you denied, “it’s… sort of beautiful, actually.”

With you wrapped around his left side, it was natural for his right hand to move up your thigh.  His left hand brushing against your face seemed to surprise you, though.

"I'm sorry, is it cold?" he asked gently.

"A little," you giggled, "but I don't mind."

Demonstrating how little you minded, in fact, you slowly kissed the tips of his bionic fingers, getting more and more adventurous until you were suddenly slipping two of them into your mouth and down past your throat.

"Fuck," he shivered, silently thanking whatever gods were out there that technology made him capable of feeling the wet warmth of your mouth on his fingers.

"Just skin everywhere else, right?" you smirked.  "It's not a Swiss army knife down there?"

"Nope," he laughed, "flesh an' blood."

The blood aspect was especially salient as his cock filled so fast he thought he might pass out.  Your hand slipped down and started to ghost over the front of his jeans, and he fought every instinct to keep from bucking up into your hand.  You started to go for his belt but he sat up a bit.

“Wait,” he requested, clutching your shoulders a little; as soon as you looked back at him, he pulled you into a kiss, probably a little too aggressively but he was too pent up to care.  After all this waiting, he actually had to hold himself back a bit compared to how he really wanted to kiss you.  He moved his lips against yours slowly but with determination— and it was you, in the end, that started to slide your tongue along his lips until he opened them, giving him a chance to taste your mouth like he’d dreamed of for so long.  Past the beer was the unmistakable flavor of you, and he was instantly addicted to it.  His arms wrapped around you and held you close, one hand tangling in your hair a bit as you started to lean into his palm.  Your hands clutched at his shirt, the warmth of your touch managing to permeate through to his skin, and he heard the softest moan from you right against his lips.  It was perfection, and he would’ve been happy to stay like that forever if it weren’t for you sitting up to straddle him.  He couldn’t decide if it was the sight of you on top of him, or the weight of your body on his, or the feeling of your thighs clenching a bit just above his throbbing cock— it was probably all three, but he suddenly became so needy for you that his head was spinning.

Still absorbed in the kiss, he reached down and gently pulled at the knot holding your robe shut, letting it fall open before pushing it off your shoulders slowly.  You smiled against his lips and sat up, taking it off the rest of the way to reveal your entire nudity underneath.  You’d think that he would’ve wished to be naked with you, and that certainly would’ve made a few of his ideas a lot easier to act upon, but something about your bare body compared to his covered one— something about your mound grinding on his jeans like that— drove him fucking wild.

“God, baby,” he praised with a purr, running his hands all over whatever he could reach.  A movie could never do a body like this justice.  It deserved to be appreciated and worshipped in person, which was exactly what he planned to do.

“Your turn,” you giggled as you leaned down, unbuttoning his shirt hastily.  He was proud of the way you bit down on your lip as his skin was exposed, though he was also a bit embarrassed to reveal he was wearing his dog tags underneath.  “A little more metal under here than I was expecting,” you smirked, trailing an errant finger over the silver chain.  “There’s always more to you than meets the eye… what other secrets are you hiding, hm?”

Right now, he wanted you to have all his secrets.  He wanted to give you everything.  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted first.

“I don’t think that’s that much of a secret,” you smirked as you finished the last button. 

He sat up to help you discard the shirt, shivering as your touch trailed over his chest, his abs; then his scars, and the rest of the arm.  He used it to pull you down by your neck for another kiss, testing the waters by getting a touch rougher and letting more of his desperation seep through.  You responded very well, your moans gliding from your tongue onto his as your hips started to rock on top of his.  “Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” he gently mocked, smiling as he started to kiss down your neck and onto your shoulder.  “Ridin’ me through my jeans, like a damn teenager dry-humping after prom.”

“Hnng, Bucky,” you choked, slowing down.

He grabbed your hips with both hands.  “Hey, I didn’t say to stop.”  

With a moan and renewed vigor, you moved faster on top of him, the rough denim clearly a bit too much for your sensitive clit as your thighs began to quiver where they were clamped down around his.  The stimulation on his cock, alternatively, was rather dulled through such thick clothing— it was just enough to keep him desperate, but not enough to get him too near coming, which was the way he wanted it at the moment.  If anything, it was the sight of you rubbing yourself on him desperately that put his restraint at risk.

“Can you feel how hard I am, baby?” he growled a little.  “Can you feel how hard you make me?”

You nodded with a little gasp.  "God, Bucky, I want it in me now."

"Not yet, pretty girl,” he soothed with a smirk.  “I need to taste you first."

He flipped you onto your back and settled on top of you between your legs; he kissed you one more time, resisting the urge to rub his hips on yours again before heading down south to suck your nipple between his lips.  You were so sensitive, moaning loudly each time his tongue circled the bud, and he moaned at the feeling of the skin hardening against his tongue.  He made sure to give some attention to the other one before making a show of kissing down your chest and stomach, looking back up at you with a stare that he could only hope carried all the weight that he was feeling.

"I get it," you grinned down at him, "this is how you reclaim your territory.  You're gonna do what he did to me, but so much better until I can't even remember his name, right?"

"Sweetheart, you didn't even remember his name thirty seconds after it happened,” he reminded you between kisses, moving lower and lower on the bed.

"So you're not trying to assert dominance over sexual competition?" you pressed with a gleam of challenge in your eyes.

"You need to stop reading those evolutionary biology books," he laughed, but then got a bit more stern. "Think of it this way: I don't see any of those stupid boys as competition.  They're nothing.  It's you who needs to know that nobody can make you feel as good as I can."

That seemed to shut you up for the moment, and he smirked before getting back to work kissing along your spread thighs and shaking hips.  He could already smell your need in the air, intoxicating to the point that he struggled to stay focused on mercilessly teasing you.  He wanted to taste you so bad, but he needed to hear you beg him for it.  He started with one finger gently exploring your folds, slow and light, until he felt your hips trying to push up into him for more stimulation.  Then all he had to do was kiss that spot right on the inside of your thigh that wasn’t quite where you wanted him, and you arched your back with a desperate whine.  “Bucky, please,” you whimpered. 

He laughed a little, amused by your little sobs and the way your hands clutched at the comforter beneath you.  “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.”

“Your mouth,” you gasped.

“Where do you want it?” he asked innocently.

You snarled with irritation but answered anyway.  “My pussy.”

“I don’t think I understand,” he encouraged, voice getting deeper on accident as his own arousal became too intense to ignore.

You growled frustratedly but got what he was getting at.  “I need your mouth on my pussy, Bucky, please…”

“Well, why didn’t you say so, darlin’?  All you had to do was ask,” he grinned as he roughly grabbed your thighs and buried his face in between them, sloppily exploring you with his tongue until your taste coated his mouth and overwhelmed all his senses.

“Fuck!” you yelped, shivering against him.  “Oh god, yes, Bucky, oh my god…”

“Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?” he asked, pulling back just as much as he needed to to speak.

“Yes, Bucky, just like that,” you nodded wildly, “feels so good, don’t fucking stop, please—”

He dove in again, finding a pattern that allowed him to suck on your clit and push his tongue inside you simultaneously.  That was the combination that seemed to rile you up most, your hands searching for something to hold on to until they suddenly found purchase gripping his hair, guiding him as your hips bucked against his face.  That was fine with him— more than that, in fact, cause he thought it was so sexy when you demanded control like that— until you switched from pulling him in to pushing him away.  That wouldn’t do at all; with a growl, he grabbed your wrists and forced them down beside you, holding them firm as he licked at you rougher and faster.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you sobbed, back arching so much that he had to fight to keep you in his mouth, “right there, right there— oh fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He nodded, but it wasn’t permission; it was ‘of course you are.’

Your walls clenched so hard that your entire sex was pulsing in his mouth, your taste getting stronger in the same way your moans got louder.  He wanted to hold you there as long as you could, and that turned out to be quite a while; he stopped when your screams of pleasure started to push too far into pain, finally letting you rest… for a moment, that is.

He watched your panting breaths catch as he slowly pushed a finger into your hole; it was still pulsing a little bit from the orgasm, and was unbearably hot and wet.

"Fuck, this pretty little pussy is tryin' to suck me in, you see that?  Wants me so bad…"

"M-more, Bucky, please," you whispered.  He obeyed and slipped in a second finger, slowly twisting and trying to open you up for him.

"You like that, pretty girl?" he asked with a smile as he watched your back arch, returning to suck on your clit without waiting for an answer.  He relished the weight of your thighs on his shoulders, taking mental note of where he had to touch you to make them clench around his head.  You kept repeating 'yes' but he didn't think it was intended as an answer to his question because he was pretty sure you hadn't even heard the question.  Still, it was answer enough nonetheless.

He could tell it wouldn't take that long to get you there again, with your g-spot all swollen from the last one.  He didn't push too hard on it yet, just letting his fingers curl ever so slightly to apply a teasing amount of pressure.  

"Don't you wanna fuck me?" you moaned between sobs.

His cock seemed to process that question before his brain did.   "Yes," he answered quickly, even though he thought it was rude to talk with his mouth full.

"Then get on with it," you suggested desperately.  "Come on up here and fuck me."

"I'm not done with this yet," he insisted.

Your head fell back as you hissed frustratedly through your teeth.  "Damn you and your… thoroughness."

"No point in doing anything if you're not gonna do it right," he laughed.  "Besides, I couldn't stop now when you're about to come."

You looked back at him for a second like you didn't agree with that assessment, until he curled his fingers again and your walls rippled erratically around him.  "Fuck," you shuddered.  “Please fuck me, please fuck me, please,” you sobbed, “I need it so bad, I need you inside me— Bucky, pleasepleaseplease—”

He growled against your skin, struggling to resist that but desperate to make you come just one more time before he gave in.  His cock really hated that he wasn’t giving you what you wanted, throbbing and weeping another drop of precum just to remind him of his own desperation.  But he stayed strong, focusing on his task as he felt your walls tighten around him with another orgasm.

You nearly screamed with this one, your voice breaking as your nails dug into the bed beneath you.  You looked fucking perfect with your head thrown back in pleasure like that— and you tasted even better as a gush of your arousal coated his tongue.  

He kept circling your bud with his tongue until you started to sob a little and try to push him off of you, “can’t take anymore, please—”

And he took pity on you, for once— or maybe it was moreso pity on himself as he sat up and palmed himself through his jeans.  He was so hard it hurt, and you looked like you could tell by the way you looked up at him: a glimmer of mischief in your eyes, still, even with the way they’d glazed over a bit from coming so hard.  “Get over here,” you purred as you sat up and pulled him down on top of you, kissing him again as your hands slipped down to clutch at his chest.

Of everything he’d imagined, he had never even thought to consider what it would be like to be undressed by you.  Those nimble fingers fiddling with his belt, working open his fly and zipper with such unabashed desperation, like you needed him more than you’d ever needed anything… truly, it was intoxicating.

Then again, it was nothing compared to your hand slipping into his boxers and wrapping around his cock.  He was sure he’d never gotten so much out of just one touch before, and he had to fight off the moan bubbling in his throat.  Your hands were so soft as they started to gently stroke him; his hips moved of their own accord as they started to thrust into your grasp.

“God, I need you to fuck me,” you groaned, “please, Bucky, need it so bad.”

Entirely speechless as this point, all he could do was nod as he pushed your hands off of him, pushing his jeans off quickly so as to be away from you as briefly as he could manage— and then he was on you again, kissing you everywhere he could reach, moaning when he finally let his cock brush between your legs for a moment.  Even just that and he was already coated in your slick: the rewards of demanding to be thorough, clearly.

“Please,” you sobbed, “put it in me, can’t wait any more, I’ve waited so long…”

It almost made him stop to think, because it was ambiguous if you just meant tonight or more.  But you were begging him for his cock so he wasn’t really in any position to think.

So many times he had wondered if your real moans sounded anything like your fake ones from the movie.  He fantasized for months about a chance to make the comparison.  But with you in front of him, under him, biting down on your lip as he pushed into your perfect warmth, he couldn’t even remember that you’d ever been in a movie.  He couldn’t think about anything else but this moment, right now, and he didn’t want to.

“God, Bucky,” you sighed, as if the two were being regarded at the same level in your mind— and he wasn't even halfway in yet.

Equal parts of him wanted to ease you into it and to tear you in half.  You'd always ignited this paradox in him, this instinct to protect and to destroy, this desire to cherish you and dominate you, but it was most apparent now.  It made him worry that he could never really give you what you deserved, but naturally, he was at his most selfish in this moment.  He had only just begun to push himself into you and he was ready to justify anything to get the rest of the way and bury himself to the hilt.

Your body opened up to him slightly, enough that he felt mostly right about going a little deeper; you gasped and clutched at his forearm, and that was only just barely enough to stop him as a sick pressure of arousal made his gut twist.  Oddly enough, your nails biting into his skin did more to egg him on than it did to slow him down.

He kept his eyes trained on where your bodies were joined, watching in awe at the way you looked stretched out around him; he could feel your struggle to take him in the way your walls quivered and quaked, but he could hear how much you enjoyed it as you moaned and gasped beneath him.

"I want it all, Bucky, please," you begged.  Just because he needed to, he was rough with the last inch— not enough for it to be really brutal, but plenty to elicit a precious little sob from you.

It felt so good to be all the way in you that it nearly made him dizzy.  

"Baby," you whispered, and it sounded just like the way you'd said it in the back of the car, just like the way he'd committed to memory and stowed away in his mind to visit whenever he needed to feed his addiction.

How could his chest not burn with jealousy when he remembered that night?  How could he cope with that jealousy with anything but pinning you down and fucking you hard and fast like it was the end of the goddamn world?

You all but screamed as he did it, your whole body shaking as he pounded into you.  He feared it would be more than you could handle but you went from wet to dripping in an instant, your moans loud and hoarse but undeniably a sound of pleasure.  It turned him on even more to know that you liked getting fucked this hard; maybe he didn't need to worry so much about holding back, if this was gonna make you bite your lip and look up at him like that.

"Bucky, oh my god," you sighed, a hint of disbelief in your tone, "it's so good, fuck, you feel so good…"

He wanted to hear more, but he couldn't resist capturing your lips in a kiss first, sloppy and aggressive and needy but overall perfect.  It was almost like he could taste your moans as they vibrated over his tongue, until he could barely tell his apart from yours anymore.  Pulling back, his dog tags were dangling over your face, and you looked so damn good with his name tickling your skin.  

When he lifted your legs and pushed them back up into your chest, you snarled and clutched at the sheets beneath you.  "Too deep?" he asked, not sure himself if it was concern or taunting or somewhere in the middle.

"So fucking deep," you answered, "but not too deep."

"Then maybe I'm not deep enough," he smirked, and you laughed.

"You're trying to ruin me, is that it?" you pressed.

He was afraid to be entirely honest, but your tone wasn't one of fear.  "Something like that," he admitted after a moment.

"It's working," you sighed as you pulled him down by the chain of his tags, kissing him again as your arms slipped around his neck and held him close.

His hands squeezed your thighs, before taking a detour to run up and down your legs.  It made you shiver, and he felt it from inside you which was overwhelmingly erotic.  The time he’d spent making you come so many times was paying off: for one, you were so wet it made him feel a little-lightheaded, but also it meant that he felt familiar with your body now.  He knew what it meant when your walls tightened just so, when you bit your lip that way, when your moans sounded all breathy and strained.  That being, of course, that you were about to come— and he couldn’t wait for you to come just from being fucked, make a mess all over his cock.

And yet, there was still so much more to discover: like how it felt when your legs wrapped around his hips to keep him inside, or when your fingers dug into his shoulders as you looked up at him.

“Gonna come,” you warned him with half-lidded eyes and your mouth fallen slack, “oh my god, Bucky, you’re gonna make me come.”

He growled and tightened his grip on your thigh— something to stabilize him as he fought so hard to stave off his own orgasm.  You felt so good and he could probably come just from the sight of you like this anyways, let alone being inside you right now.  Think about baseball think about baseball think about baseball—

“Yes!” you screamed.  “Right there, oh fuck, Buckyyyyy!” 

“Fuck,” he hissed, completely unable to think about anything but you, lost in the way you cried out his name as your walls fluttered and pulsed around him so perfectly.  

Maybe he was disturbed for thinking you looked pretty with your eyes filling with tears.  He was definitely disturbed for taking some pride in making you cry.  Of course, only because he was making you cry from this.  If he had it his way, Bucky would make you cry in only this way, every day, forever— and make sure nobody made you cry in any other way, while he was at it.  You hiccuped your sob as he continued to pound into you, refusing to let up even as he leaned down to kiss away your tears.  “S-so good,” you mumbled weakly, “Bucky… please…”

"Fuck, gonna come— I'm gonna come," he stammered his warning.

"Inside me, please," you whimpered, "I want it inside me."

"Jesus Christ," he hissed, shaking his head in some form of exhausted shock.  You grinned, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer to you until your lips brushed against his ear.

"Bucky, I want you to come inside me," you repeated in a slow whisper.  "I want every drop of your come in my pussy, I wanna be so full of you, I wanna feel it leaking out all night, I want you to make me yours."

How was he supposed to hold back anymore, with you talking like that?  With you weaving your fingers into his hair and tightening your legs around his hips, with you kissing him deeply and suddenly?  A weak moan was lost to your lips as he filled you, warmth washing over every part of him until he thought he might just melt.  You smiled against him, and he summoned just enough strength to not collapse on top of you and surely crush you with his weight.  Instead, he gave you one last kiss before burying his face in your neck, laughing exhaustedly.  

"Mine, huh?” he remembered.  “You really mean it?"

You hummed quietly, holding him tightly.  "I probably shouldn't answer that question just after you made me come a dozen times."

"No no, you should,” he pressed as he pushed up to hover over you.

You smiled and looked back up at him.  "I'm yours, Bucky."

He growled, leaning down to give your neck light teasing kisses.  "Fuck, keep talkin' like that and I'll double that dozen."

"My body couldn't take it," you asserted.

"I'd make you take it," he promised.

You bit down on your lip, and he couldn't help but chuckle a little.  You weren't as good at feigning innocence as you seemed to think.

"Oh, you like that," he posited.  "Maybe someday I'll tie you down and make you come until all you know how to do is say my name, hm?"

"Bet it wouldn't even take you that long," you admitted.  "I already feel pretty braindead."

Testing that theory, he reached down and drew light circles over your swollen clit with his thumb, even just that subtle touch making your legs and inner walls quiver as your back arched.

"Bucky," you whimpered as you tried to push his hand away, "s'too much, please…"

"Nuh uh, pretty girl, I wanna see you fall apart again.  You know how many times I dreamed of making you come?"

You shook your head.

"Me either, but I wanna keep doing it until I feel like I've reached a number that at least comes close.  I've finally got you in my arms and I won't let you go until I've made up for all the time I wasted."

Notably, his cock which had begun to soften inside you was now getting hard again, from some combination of watching you and feeling you in this moment.

“How do you feel about a second round?” he suggested with a smirk, even as his muscles ached already.  Your eyes went wide but your walls clenched, too.  That was answer enough for him.  “I might break you,” he warned.

“Promise?” you smirked.

[hispipsqueak]

Forever

Hanta Sero x F!Reader NSFW

Summary: After years of being together, you and Sero decide to reminisce in the best way possible.

WC: 2.2K

A/N: Hi friends! Sero is one of those characters that I truly see as good husband material and I wanted to express some of those feelings in this piece. I know for a lot of us, especially in my age range, growing up and leaving that age of “dumb teenager/early 20′s mess” to “adult with responsibilities” is a big change and I hope that is reflected a bit in this. Also, there’s car sex. So that’s fun :D As always, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 P.S: CAN WE TALK ABOUT SERO IN THE NEW EP??? ahhhh

TW: car sex, adulting/getting older, domestic relationship, daddy kink, breeding kink, mentions of drug use

Sero's eyes stared at the glowing screen, trying to comprehend the information yet again.

His gaze darted toward the corner, 3:36 A.M., and he yawned, before blinking and trying to re-read the document again. 

"Hey pretty boy." 

The smell of jasmine perfume and honey wafted in and he smiled sleepily as you ran your fingers through his shaggy black hair.

"Mm...I know, I know." He muttered, nuzzling into your touch. You were his rock, always making sure he ate well and slept enough, making sure he wouldn't overwork himself. Sero thought back to your UA days of sneaking out at 3 AM to some fast food joint and getting stoned while eating greasy fries in the back of his car. Time sure flew, huh?

You rested your head on his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his neck.

"Come to bed. Paperwork will still be there in the morning, I promise.", you muttered into his soft skin. He relented and pulled himself out of the chair, twirling you around so he had you pressed against the wall.

His eyes roamed your face. You were still gorgeous as the day he first laid eyes on you in high school.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, Hanta?" you whispered. He grinned, that toothy smirk that you fell in love with unchanged after all these years, and kissed you. 

"Just reminiscing. Thinking about how far we've come. Remember when we were annoying teenagers, sneaking out of the dorms?" 

"I'm pretty sure we are the reason for Aizawa's grey hairs now. Remember when your van broke down and we had to beg Bakugo to pick us up at 4 A.M.?" you giggled back, thinking of the blonde's angry scolding the entire ride home.

The two of you chuckled quietly, thinking about the years past. You glanced down at your hand, the sparkling diamond that adorned it shining in the dim room. 

"I remember the day you proposed too. I'm pretty sure I thought you were going to dump me." you teased.

Even in the dark, you could see his face flush and his eyes narrow.

"I was NERVOUS. I was trying to ask the love of my life to spend the rest of our lives together and you just sat there being beautiful and Denki spent the day before trying to convince me to do a flash mob and it was a LOT of pressure!"

"You literally started off with, 'We've had some bad times, and some good times, and this was fun'." You laughed, picturing his face that day. He was sweating bullets and your heart was sinking, thinking he was ending it. He had been so secretive and weird the weeks prior, as opposed to his normally chilled out demeanor. 

Sero kissed your forehead.

"I still have no idea why you said yes, but you're stuck with me, babe." He clinked his matching band against yours, a gesture the two of you did to remind yourselves of your unbreakable bond. 

His long arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to him and you buried yourself into his chest, smelling his citrus-scented soap. He rested his chin on your hair. 

"When did we get so old, Y/N?" He whispered, his eyes looking at the walls behind you. Pictures of the two of you decorated the house. The pair of you in matching sunglasses at the beach, a group photo of you two and the squad at dinner after the aforementioned proposal, a candid on your wedding day, and then the two of you holding your twin boys.

"I'm pretty sure after we became parents." you mumbled into his chest, your sleepiness apparent in your voice. "I think once I had to say Daddy in a non-sexual way, was when I realized we were old." 

Sero chuckled quietly, his hands squeezing your waist. 

"But, we're still cool right? We aren't our parents." 

You looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

"Hanta, are you worried about getting older?"

He closed his eyes. 

"Not worried as much as...I just...I don't wanna be an old guy who drives a minivan and talks about retirement and golf."

Your eyes widened and you burst into laughter.

"Baby, I'm pretty sure you would never take up golf."

Sero pouted and you grinned before continuing.

"But in all seriousness, we aren't the kids we were in high school. Maybe we can't pull all nighters and still function the next day, and maybe we have to be parents who eat more vegetables and less french fries. But it's also nice to have a car that doesn't require a running start to move, and have a house instead of sneaking in and out of each other's dorm rooms. And you know, the kids are KIND OF cool."

He nodded.

"They are pretty cool kids."

You cupped his face, tilting him towards you.

"If I have to grow old with someone, I'm glad it's with you."

His face flushed and he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you deeply. You gently tugged at the longer hair behind his ears as you kissed him back. He let out a low groan and his hands kneaded at your curves, squeezing your ass and hips.

Finally, the two of you broke apart, breathless and grinning. He pressed his forehead to yours.

"How about…we reminisce a little more? Maybe...in the car, for old time's sake?"

You nodded and the two of you headed to the garage, trying to stay as quiet as possible to not wake up the kids. Sero opened the car door and the two of you slid in the backseat, giggling like teenagers. 

You straddled him and could feel his cock through his joggers. He groaned as you grinded against it, teasing him with hungry hot kisses to his neck. 

“You’re such a tease, princess.” He whispered before tracing the shell of your ear with his tongue. Your body shivered at his touch. Even after all this time, he made you feel like a lovestruck schoolgirl. You ran your hands down his toned chest, his body lean from hero work, and slid your fingers underneath his shirt.

Sero took this as an invitation to pull off his black tank top and you did the same to your sleeping shirt, an old band tee that you snagged from him. His hands cupped your breasts, slowly kneading the soft flesh as he placed soft kisses on your collarbone and shoulder.

“Mmm...you’re so fucking beautiful. How the hell did I get so damn lucky, babe?” He said between kisses. Sero had a way of making you feel like the sexiest woman in the world and you couldn’t help but smile as he worshipped your breasts, kissing and licking his way down till he latched his mouth over your nipple. 

Using his other hand to tweak and tug at the hardened bud, he alternated between the two, sucking and leaving soft bites. Your back arched involuntarily, pushing your chest deeper into his mouth as you moaned.

“Fuck…need you Hanta.”

His long fingers worked their way down your belly, tracing circular patterns as he reached your sex. He ran a finger across your slit, barely parting your folds.

“What do you want, baby? Tell Daddy what you want.”

“Please...please touch me. Please daddy.” you begged, grinding yourself against him for the smallest amount of friction. You could feel yourself leaving a mess on his sweatpants, but you needed his touch.

He let out a deep chuckle.

“So desperate, huh baby? Let daddy take care of you.” You bit your lip as he plunged two fingers into your cunt. The length, combined with the hooking motion had you gasping. He continued to plunge in and out of your sopping heat as you rocked against him. Your thighs tensed, threatening to close on his arm. He maneuvered the two of you so you were laying on your back across the seat, his hand gripping your soft thighs, holding you in place as he finger-fucked you.

“Take it like a good girl baby. Let daddy make you feel good. You look so beautiful for me baby.” He praised you as he pushed deeper into you. You could feel him hit spots in you that made you see stars. All you could do was lay back and cry from the overwhelming pleasure that clouded your brain.

“Fuck...daddy, gonna cum soon!” you wailed, eyes rolling back. Hanta then chose this moment to pull his fingers from you, leaving your pussy to clench around nothing. You let out a frustrated whimper, tears leaking from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry baby, but I promise I’m gonna make it all better. You trust me baby?” He asked, his eyes dark with desire and something primal.

You nodded, sniffling at the shock of your orgasm being ripped from you. He tapped your lips with his fingers,still dripping of your arousal. Obediently, you opened and sucked on the two fingers, tasting yourself. 

“Look how good you taste baby. You’re such a good girl for me. I want you to lick up every last drop from my fingers. Can you do that for daddy?” He asked, grinning.

Nodding dumbly, you slurped down every bit of yourself from his hand. He pressed against your tongue, making you gag around him. You looked up at him, drool falling from the corners of your mouth. 

Hanta felt his cock twitch. Fuck you looked so sexy, so fucked and in love. He could see the devotion in your eyes as you looked at him awaiting his next instructions.

He pulled his hand back, strings of saliva hanging off of his calloused fingers. He propped himself above you so he was looking right down at your gorgeously fucked out face.

“You ready baby? You ready to take all of Daddy’s cock?” He asked, tugging your shorts down and lining himself up with your entrance. Your fingers found their way to his neck, tugging him close to you. The two of you shared a deep kiss, exchanging unspoken promises and memories before breaking apart. You nodded, looking deep into his eyes.

“Always."

Hanta felt his face flush, before slowly pressing into your tight heat. You bit your lip. No matter how many times the two of you had done this, you still had to prepare for his length. He wasn’t the thickest but his cock was long and lean just like him, with a curve that pressed itself right against your most sensitive spots.

“Fuck...you feel so good for me. You’re squeezing me so well baby.” He murmured, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of your body. His hands ran up and down your sides as he looked down at you and he gave you a small grin as he pinched your hip. You dug your fingertips into his shoulder blades, pulling him flush against you.

“Oh fuck you feel so good.” You rocked your hips against him, rolling yourself onto his cock. He took this as a cue to go faster and started to piston deeper inside of you, his balls slapping against your ass. His tip slammed against your walls, burying him deeper inside you. Moans and sighs filled the backseat and you gripped him tightly.

“That’s it babe, that’s it. Taking daddy so fucking deep. Fuck you’re sucking me in so well. I might have to knock you up again if you keep it up. You want that princess? Want daddy to put another baby inside you?” Hanta panted, hungrily kissing your neck and shoulder as he fucked into you faster. His teeth nipped at the thin skin and you cried out, from a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Answer me baby girl.”

“Y-yes daddy! Please fill me up with your cum. Need you so bad. Wan’a have your baby.” You moaned, delirious from him. The windows to the car were foggy and sweat ran down your bodies as you repeatedly crashed into each other, and yet all you could feel was him, all you wanted was to stay with him and please him as much as you could.

He could feel his release rapidly approaching. His hand snaked down to your clit and he pressed tight circles to the sensitive bud. Your back arched from the seat as you moaned out a mixture of curses and begs. Your mindless babbling spurred him on more. He wanted to keep fucking you, make it so you couldn’t remember your own name, drive you insane with desire and want.

“Tell me who’s fucking you so good baby. Who’s making you feel so fucking good? Who’s cum do you want to fill that tight little pussy of yours?” He breathed out, slamming into you impossibly faster.

“Daddy daddy daddy - DADDY!” you chanted, your mind fuzzy as you tightened around him, creaming on his cock. You wrapped your legs around his waist and rode out your high on his cock as your eyes fluttered and your mouth dropped open.

“That’s it, that’s it, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groaned out as he released into you, filling you with his seed. His cock twitched, spurting his load into you and his fingers gripped your hips, holding you tightly as he filled you up.

The two of you panted, breathing hard as you came down from your highs, slowly moving into a position where he could hold you. He moved some strands of hair, plastered to your face with sweat, and pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“I love you.” 

You grinned, sleepiness overtaking your body as you leaned into him, your lips pressing against his skin.

“Forever.”

[saintobio]

what’s Sachiro’s astrological sign?

also great job on the new chapter, i’d be typing a dictionary to describe how much i love it but to keep it short - i honestly can’t wait to see what you do with the series. hope you have a good day, stay healthy and hydrated! love you <3

aries !! and thank u sm mwa <33

Anonymous said

completely u related to say but saint you should watch My Name on netflix it just came out. It reminds me so much of Underground Fight Club! here’s there summary

“Following her father's murder, a revenge-driven woman puts her trust in a powerful crime boss -- and enters the force under his direction.”

Also the mc is literally Han So Hee 😭😭

i’m actually planning to watch that :0 it looks so exciting and i love han sohee so much aaaAaAAAa

Anonymous said

lovely chapter saint. i admire your hardwork and dedication. btw, is there a possibility we would get a suguru x reader in the future (doesnt have to be a series cus i know how taxing it can be even tho im not a writer lol) outside of snverse? also i hope you’re taking good care of yourself. dont forget to drink plenty of water love <3

- 🪐 anon

thank youuuu and i’m not sure yet baby, but it’s possible :’) it’s just that i rly only have the motivation to write for gojo rn

@shintin said

from the moment i read the new chapter i become sad, poor satoru, don't tell me that he lost the memory of past 3 years 😭😭😭 my heart was heavy from reading Y/N's situation...please don't this story with sad ending, it will reallu effect me 😭😭😭 i want to bite their son's cheeks when he said dada has a boo boo 😍😍😍 he is so cuuuute 😍😍😍 i love you Saint 😍😍😍 but please think about happy ending 🥲🥲🥲

hahahahah u can handle it 😭 i promise

Anonymous said

geto taking satoru's side is understandable since theyre best friends but he made me mad when he was talking to the mc in sy. him and shoko were both kind of enablers. especially during that one trip they should never have allowed sera to come along. they were also somewhat at fault. probably not compl, but still they were wrong

damn, straight fax tho ieiri did show that she doesn’t tolerate it and so did getou later in the series

Anonymous said

Hey Saint! Are there any other fics you're working on besides Sincerely Yours or is it your last one? Btw I just wanted to tell you your writing is amazing and the first chapter is so good ❤️❤️❤️

i lost my wips but i rly wanna finish aab and aos !! they’re on my navi you see 😭 hopefully i get to post someday. and thank u very much !!!

Anonymous said

So when can I hope for some sera x sukuna, saaiinntttt??? I hope we get some of them because since reading their side story I got sooo excited for more. Their story was so interesting and refreshing!! Also because I’m not really feeling MC anymore. Hope you’re staying healthy! Love❤️❤️

maybe soon, we’ll see :D they’re just a side story so don’t expect many scenes

Anonymous said

“My wife.” He had all of you at a loss for words while his eyes only searched for the woman he believed he still loved. “Let’s go home.”

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN PLS. he believed he still loved. so he doesn't anymore ???? why u do this to me 😔😔😔 ajshwkwjrshwiei pls this is gonna hurt so bad i just know. so the fluff that's gonna hurt is when they are spending their time together as a family but satoru doesn't remember anything soooo

gahahah secret :p

Anonymous said

Sn1 really made me cry and i'm a sucker for angst. I really love this sotry and can't wait for Sn2. Also how people see the perspective of the characters is amazing. There both in a wrong no matter how you see it. Even people saying that yn hid the baby is the first selfish thing she has done, but still its not right tho. Also i can see why see runaway from her wedding w/ toji tho, girl have some major trust issues (even tho he will definitely not cheat on her). I love how the ending is kinda open no one knows who will end up w/ who(except sain tho) and it kinda gives the thrill and makes me excited. Btw you officially have become one of my fave author and the first one i have read is the iwaizumi fanfic.

A bit shameless to ask, but if ever toji and yn didn't end up together i kinda hope you make fanfic about them. I just love your writing style and how the story goes.

if yn ever ends up with someone or no one at all, i don’t rly plan to create alternate endings bc that lessens the impact of the finale iykwim 🥺 also omg ufc was the first fic you’ve read from me? or is it the college one

Anonymous said

Omg love idk what author's note the rest are talking about I can't find it anywhere on your new post 😭 I'll miss you so damn much, your writing and your answers to asks are two things I always look forward to. These days only genshin, anime, SN and SN2 keep me going. I truly wish you the best in your future endeavors, you've made a place in our hearts and we're always going to wish you well

Love you soooooo much 💖

love u too and i’m not leaving dw 😆 just might take breaks here and there <33 ty for ur kind words baby

Anonymous said

will gen feel any remorse at all? i find it hard to believe that she ever will, but i really want her to feel at least some sort of guilt. didn’t she guide her sister in the direction of hiding the baby?

she’s not heartless, so maybe. and she’s not protective of yn for no reason. at the end of the day she just wants her sister to get out of that toxicity, especially after knowing how much she suffered from her marriage.

Anonymous said

Ahhhhh, Saiiiint. Welcome back ❤️

Definitely see some things being set up right now, so won't comment on stuff. Can't wait to see everything unfold.

Tojiiiiiiiii. TOOOJIIII 🥺😭

Also, GETO. IEIRI. FIANCÉ. HELP. That made my day HAHHHA.

Oh, and to help (and perpetuate) the Gojo brain rot:

https://kakyoinsbunny.tumblr.com/post/667527721218424832/sigh-takes-off-pants-credit-to-levischailatte

I have to say, while Nanamin and Toji are my faves, this made me spit my water and drop to my knees.

— 🦈 Anon

shark anon i. am. crying !! that link 😵‍💫 sdjsbsja

Anonymous said

totally unrelated to your writing but whenever i see someone with similar hair to yours on tiktok, i’m always like “oh my god, saint is that you” lmfao

i love you and your fics so much, you’re the queen on fanfiction

omgggg that’s so cute 🥺🥺🥺 and thank u baby !! i’m def not hahahh

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

If you are taking Phasmo requests: There was a round in the latest stream where Impulse spent way too much time near the ghost and had to borrow extra sanity pills from the others just to keep himself going. The interesting part is: his internet cut out partway through the round, and if I remember correctly it didn't come back until the mission was done and they were all safe again.it kinda made me think...what if it all just finally got to be too much and his character passed out? Do with that what you will, I'm just really interested to see how you write the sanity mechanic and the effects of that :)

i love phasmo :D

...

Impulse leaves the farmhouse and heads back into the truck, disappointed with himself. He’s spent so much time in the ghost room but not had a single reading on the spirit box. It must be something he’s doing wrong.

The board in the truck says his sanity is low. He’s already taken his sanity pills but he can’t just give up now. He knows he must be SO close to getting a reading.

“Hey Tango, can I have your sanity pills?” Impulse asks over the radio.

“Um… sure. If you want.”

Impulse takes Tango’s pills, deciding not to mention the fact that he also took Skizz’s pills less than ten minutes ago.

He heads back into the building and goes straight to the ghost room. Immediately, he can feel a squirming in his stomach and a heavy kind of dizziness making the room spin slightly around him.

Sanity pills aren’t a substitute for letting sanity regain naturally, so Impulse is still suffering from the effects of the previous times he’s been in this room. Deep down, he knows it’s not good for his health to spend so much time here. But he just has to get these clues.

“Are you here?” he asks his spirit box.

Only static as a response.

He spends another ten minutes in the room, ignoring the horrifying breathing noises coming from the corner. For some reason, the ghost is not feeling chatty anymore and refuses to talk to him through the spirit box.

Finally, Impulse gets sick of it. “Linda Johnson, show yourself,” he snaps.

Immediately, the spirit box lights up: “DEATH.”

Impulse yelps and dashes out of the room, almost dropping his spirit box as he does. He pauses outside the door, his flashlight starting to blink.

“It’s hunting, Impulse, get outta there,” comes Joker’s voice over the radio.

After a moment, Impulse turns and runs. He can hear the footsteps, the breathing, the heartbeat, and he knows the ghost is right behind him. The pain and nausea are rising to almost overwhelming levels; it’s all he can do to force himself onward.

Finally, he bursts out of the front door and the noises go away. He doubles over, breathing heavily through exhaustion and nausea, trying to fill his lungs with as much fresh air as possible.

“Impulse, are you dead?” Joker asks through the walkie talkie.

“No,” Impulse responds.

He trudges back to the van, passing Tango and Skizz on his way. Joker is still inside the van, keeping an eye on the monitor for ghost orbs.

The last bottle of sanity pills catches his eye. “So, um… any ghost orbs yet?” Impulse asks casually.

“Not yet.” Joker glances at him and his eyes widen. “Whoa. Impulse, you look terrible.”

“Thanks.”

“No, really. Your eyes are BLOODSHOT, dude. You’re pale, you’re sweaty. Do you have a fever or something?”

Impulse blinks. He doesn’t feel sweaty; in fact, apart from the dizziness, he feels okay. And the nausea. And the churning in his stomach. And the splitting headache.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Can I take your pills?”

Joker stares at him, realisation dawning on him. “How much have you taken already?”

“Hey, I only took mine,” replies Impulse defensively. “And Tango’s. And I don’t think Skizz realised I took his too.”

“Oh my god!” Joker yelps. “Dude, your sanity’s at ZERO right now and that’s with THREE sets of pills?! You gotta tap out, man. You can’t go back in there.”

“I’m fine,” Impulse repeats firmly.

He reaches for the last bottle of sanity pills but his vision suddenly swims and he has to blink heavily a few times, his brain growing fuzzier and fuzzier by the second.

Joker jumps off his chair and captures Impulse’s hand before he can take the pills. “Impulse, STOP,” he orders. “This isn’t healthy.”

“I gotta get back in there,” Impulse argues weakly. “I gotta help Tangy and Skizz.”

“Since when do you call him “Tangy”?!” Joker tries to guide Impulse towards the chair. “Impulse, seriously, you’re too out of it. You gotta sit down and take it easy or something.”

Impulse pulls his wrist out of Joker’s grasp and stumbles back towards the shelf. But the nausea and dizziness are just too overwhelming, and just as he lifts his arm to reach for the pills again, his eyes roll back and he collapses to the ground.

“Impulse!” cries Joker in alarm. “Oh my god!”

He drops to his knees beside Impulse and shakes his shoulders, trying to wake his friend up. “Impulse! C’mon, man! W-Wake up!”

But when Impulse doesn’t stir, Joker hurriedly reaches for his walkie talkie, fumbling and almost dropping it in the process. “G-Guys, get back to the van. NOW.”

“Oh, what now?” comes Skizz’s annoyed voice over the radio. “We can’t do our job if you keep-!”

“Joker, what is it?” Tango’s voice interrupts, clearly sensing the urgency in Joker’s voice. “Is everything okay?”

“N-No!” Joker’s voice cracks. “Impulse passed out and now he won’t wake up!”

“What?!” Skizz gasps. “Okay, I’m on my way back.”

Joker waits anxiously until he sees Tango rushing towards him, with Skizz right behind him. Tango kneels down beside Impulse and quickly checks his pulse.

“His sanity’s at zero,” Joker reports shakily. “But I don’t think he should take any more pills. He already took three sets.”

“WHAT?!” screeches Skizz.

Tango exhales slowly, shaking his head. “Oh my god, no wonder he’s passed out. He shouldn’t even have had more than one set, let alone three.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Skizz asks worriedly, taking Impulse’s hand. “He looks so pale.”

Tango grasps his friend’s shoulder reassuringly. “As soon as we get back to the lobby, his sanity will be restored and he should be fine. But now the question is: do we cut our losses and take the l on this one or do you wanna keep going?”

“There’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate now,” replies Skizz, his own face almost as pale as Impulse’s. “I just want Impulse to be okay.”

Tango nods. “Joker?”

Joker’s eyes glisten as he responds, “Man, I-I’m still traumatised from the image of him just dropping to the floor like a- like a sack of rocks. I’m fine with taking the loss.”

“Good, yeah, me too.”

Tango activates the van keypad, ending the round. The group wait as they’re transported back to the lobby.

Impulse awakens as he feels his sanity get restored, but as soon as his feet land on the floor of the lobby, his knees buckle and he pitches forward.

Thankfully, Tango reacts quickly and catches him, half-carrying him towards the sofa in the corner. He sits his friend down and stands back, arms folded, as Joker and Skizz come to stand next to him.

Impulse looks up to find all three of his friends watching him.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Tango demands.

“I don’t know,” says Impulse quietly. “I’m sorry. But I feel better now. And it won't happen again.”

He tries to get up off the sofa but Tango takes hold of his shoulders and pushes him back down. “Not good enough. Impulse, I’ve never heard Joker sound so scared than when he came on the radio to tell us you’d passed out. At the very least, you owe him an explanation.”

Impulse’s eyes flicker to Joker, who glances away, unable to meet his gaze.

“You’re right,” he murmurs. “Joker, I’m sorry. I don’t have an explanation. I just pushed it too far and I should’ve listened to you guys. I’m really sorry.”

Tango and Skizz both glance at Joker, who hesitates for a moment before approaching Impulse and awkwardly patting his shoulder. “It… It’s okay. Do you feel okay now?”

“My head hurts and I feel exhausted, like I’ve been awake for ages.” Impulse inhales deeply. “I think I just need to rest.”

“Understandable, since you took, like, three times the recommended dose of sanity pills,” Tango says. “We’ll call it here for today, then. Just… don’t do that again, please.”

“I won’t. Those sanity pills taste even worse the more you take.”

“That’s not what I meant. Though you should definitely not do THAT again either.” Tango clears his throat. “Don’t scare us like that again.”

“Yeah, dude, I thought you’d just dropped dead in front of me,” Joker adds. “Like, dropped dead of insanity or an overdose or something. I’m not too stubborn to admit that I nearly had a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” says Impulse quietly. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” After a moment, Tango smiles and also pats Impulse’s shoulder. “Let’s all go home and get some rest. We need it.”

Impulse nods. He regrets scaring his friends of course but more than that, he regrets losing sight of what’s important: the fact that it’s just a game and it’s supposed to be fun. He’s not supposed to drive himself to win at the detriment of his own health. He’ll have to make sure he remembers that in future.

“Good idea.”

[today-only-happens-once]

Please gush about your D&D campaign! and tell me your favorite moment so far between Dorian and Orym?

THURIIIII hi

Task: Wiped down kitchen counters and started dinner.

I'm gonna ramble forever about my dnd campaign but my favorite Dorym moment is probably a three-way tie between "there are no debts between us", "you have something in your hair", and Orym with the sending stone when Dorian came back. T.T

Now, for MY campaign... (I get in my feels a bit woops)

Right now, we're a party of three with my half-elf monk (Kyssarda), a tiefling paladin/warlock, and a triton bard. We just spent like, a month in the Underdark which was BRUTAL, but had fantastic character development for all of us I think. The path to get to the Underdark (which we went to with the intention of rescuing a friend) involved going to this country we hadn't been to before.

I've been using Kyssarda to sort of explore internalized issues in some ways, mostly internalized homophobia (saying this as a queer woman) by putting some emotional emphasis on her coming to understand that she is the direct result of a love (between her parents) that at least parts of society deemed taboo and bad (because her father's lineage would not have approved of him marrying a human). She also feels like she can't share this aspect of her identity freely with the party, because the party member she felt closest to (the elven rogue) has been super prejudiced against the country her father is from (because of backstory.... it's a tangled web).

BUT ANYWAY we come out of the Underdark after like, a month. Kyssarda lost an arm and gained a scar. Our paladin/warlock changed alignments and then changed back after what has been probably my fave RP I've ever done. Other trauma was had that I won't get into. It's been a rough time for everybody. And we emerge and suddenly.... the country her father is from got overthrown, and the tyrranical rule is no longer in effect.

Which leads to her having a lot of mixed but very strong emotions. Because on one hand, that's great! If only her father could see it now! But also.... if only her father could see it, period, and she still carries the sort of trauma of knowing her father's love for her mother was seen as this terrible, dirty thing for so long, and she is a proud product of that.

So overwhelmed and needing someone to talk to, she DID tell her secret to the paladin and it was such a good moment. Oof. But she made him promise not to tell the rogue who we are currently about to meet up with (played by the player as the triton bard). Paladin promised, but also encouraged her to tell him. I don't think it's going to happen soon, but it's bound to happen eventually.

I'm really excited though because of what I explained above and also other trauma-related things that I haven't gotten to explain fully (or this would be a novel probably haha), Kyssarda's going to multiclass into barbarian soon. She's a character that hasn't gotten to acknowledge the pain and anger that is justified in her backstory and throughout the campaign, and I'm excited to explore the ways anger can be a catharsis and good even. That it doesn't have to be something buried and forgotten, like she has been doing for so long. I think my party knows its coming, because I've been planting seeds of outbursts of anger slowly but surely, and they keep making jokes/comments about her multiclassing.

Thank you for the chance to ramble!

[op-sheepy]

ok so I'm particularly interested in

Bellamy Law

Law and Bible stuff

Law is a substitute kindergarten teacher

shichibukai applications

reverse hanahaki disease (?? do u spit out flowers when your nemesis walks by?)

if you feel like elaborating on any of these!

This is gonna get long and I actually contemplated posting them separately but would that have been more work? Yeah, that felt like more work so for anyone interested, check under the cut. :D

---------------------------------o

---------------------------------o

Bellamy Law

Hm… This would be an attempt to explore the parallels and contrasts between Bellamy and Law. I've always found it fascinating that the former was a foil to the latter.

They both come from well-off  towns in the North Blue.

Bellamy left because of boredom. Law had no choice because Flevance.

Both ended up seeking Doflamingo  because of  his notoriety as a pirate. Both admired him initially

Doffy favored one over the other though. Bellamy always sought his approval but was never really part of the inner circle Doflamingo cared about.

Law got the dubious privilege of being part of the family despite being absent for so long. Even offered one of the highest seats by Doffy's side for seemingly nothing.

Law had no trouble turning his back on Doffy once he realized the man's nature. Bellamy tried to stick to his principles until the end despite admitting that he new he was wrong.

Bellamy can (and did) quit piracy after his ordeal with Doflamingo. Having the option to live peacefully, perhaps a return to his previous life (the one he considered boring). Law can't do that quite as easily what with his Devil fruit and his reputation.

I thought it would be interesting trying to explore what Bellamy was thinking. Did he hear the Donquixote Pirates talk about their missing 'family'? Did he get to see Doffy be amused at Law's rise as a Supernova while he kept being reminded of his own status? Did Law save Bellamy partially because he also saw what he could have been had Corazon not saved him?

On principle, Bellamy should have hated Trafalgar Law. Does. Bastard even saved him without him wanting it. But there was something about the shadows haunting those eyes and Bellamy started to wonder.

He had heard the family talk about Law before. The child personally taught by Doflamingo, chosen to be his right hand. Never was he compared to the man because Law was just obviously better. Smarter. Stronger. Bellamy was ever just an uncouth thug.

He was allowed to 'borrow' Doflamingo's symbol while Law had an empty seat waiting for his return–a seat Bellamy had wanted enough to risk everything for.

Maybe he had resented, Trafalgar Law for carelessly rejecting the things he had that Bellamy had always desired. In the end too, Trafalgar Law did prove to be better. He'd done as a child what Bellamy had trouble doing even as he was now.

But having been given the chance to observe the other man as they all recovered, he wondered, perhaps for the first time, whether despite Law being better than Bellamy, Bellamy had had it better–barring the poor life choices.

---------------------------------o

---------------------------------o

Law and Bible stuff

This is just me wanting to know how many biblical parallels and themes I can draw from Law, the Donquixote brothers, the characters associated with them, and his backstory. Honestly not sure whether this would become a fic and in what style or I'm gonna give up and just make it a post.

Not gonna elaborate on them much but here are the ideas in more bullet points (yay):

Law gets familiar with all four horsemen of the apocalypse: conquest, war, famine, and death. He even survives them.

Law is like the son in the parable of the prodigal son to the Donquixote pirates. Except the themes are inverted.

Doflamingo and Rocinante -> Cain and Abel

Ope Ope no Mi -> Granting eternal life by sacrificing one's own life

Gods descending or living among humans. Also, Homing and his family being prosecuted for other people's sins.

That scene where they were hanged by their arms outstretched looks like a crucifixion. Also, Rocinante was on the right while Doflamingo was on the left. Similar to how the penitent thief was on the right and the unrepentant one to the left.

Flevance being considered a paradise with walls/fences/gates and somewhere Law cannot return to.

In the panel where the Donquixote pirates are seated at the table, there were thirteen of them with Doffy at the center. Same as The Last Supper

There are a lot more of these (David and Goliath, Solomon, Jonah, Job, etc.) but I kinda lost the notes and some are more visual so I can't really explain it too well. This would is a drabble series to emphasize or highlight the parallels so no proper snippet for this one.

---------------------------------o

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Law is a substitute kindergarten teacher

Originally an idea to get around most of the Heart Pirates being nameless but evolved to include other characters as kids. Chopper is a kindergarten teacher and he convinces Law to take over his class for a week because somehow Law has the qualifications to and free time. Naturally, he wasn't able to say no.

Unfortunately, despite not being terrible at handling children, Chopper's class is filled with menaces. Also, despite not being terrible, Law can still be awkward so...

"Mr. Trofao–fargar—"

"Trafalgar."

The kid—which one was this one again? Shit, he should really get them name plates or something—scrunched up his face and tried harder, "Tar-pal—"

"Law. Just call me Law."

"Mr. Low"—eh, close enough—"can I go to the bathroom?" Wide imploring eyes stared up at him.

"Sure, go ahead." Law gestured towards the exit of the classroom with his head.

The kid just stared expectantly at him and he tried to suppress the need to narrow his eyes.

"Is there… anything else?"

"Mr. Chopper always comes with me to hold my hand."

Really?

"Mr. Chopper isn't here. You should practice doing it on your own now." He said after a deep inhale.

"But the monsters might get me…"

"No, they won't."

"You don't know that."

"I do." Before the kid could open his mouth again to argue, he added, "Besides, children taste terrible so you're safe."

The kid looked stricken and took a step back from him. Uh oh. Glistening eyes, wobbling lower lip… "Alright! I'll go with you." The kid did not look reassured. In fact he looked like going alone with Law was the last thing he wanted to do. Guess, he kinda implied that he ate children didn't he? Oops.

Well, the kid needs to go and he's not going to be cleaning up after him if he wets himself.

Law glanced at the rest of the children. It was Arts and Craft time and they seemed preoccupied enough. Still, Law doubted Chopper ever left these kids alone–already he could see some of them glancing up at him, waiting for him to leave no doubt to cause trouble. That Monkey kid in particular looked extremely suspicious.

He stood up from his crouch and clapped twice to get everyone's attention.

"Alright. Fall in line. Single file."

There was some grumbling and questioning directed at him. "What's going on?"

Law shrugged. "You're all going to the bathroom."

---------------------------------o

---------------------------------o

Shichibukai Application Forms

Crackfic where the World Government and relevant parties review various Shichbukai Applications. Most submitted by the pirates applying themselves, some produced by their own staff. They discuss and debate. As well as judge pirate resumes.

She scanned the document. Terrible format, really. If you fail to impress within the first page, you've failed entirely. There just wasn't anyone promising enough in this batch of applications or any of the other ones before. The last one had been that clown. "Apprentice to the Pirate King," was a pretty hefty credential.

"Oh, how about this one? Three years experience pillaging, and they even listed all the towns they looted." One of the newly transferred administrative staff said.

"None of these are worth considering at all. You know, when Mihawk was asked to submit his application, he hadn't bothered with all of this. He just sent us a card with his name on it and the title "World's Strongest Swordsman," underneath."

The staff perked up. "Oh, there was an application like that." There was scramble and some shuffling before a plain white card was produced. "Here."

"'From Trafalgar Law'. What does this even mean?"

"Well, it did come with a big box..."

---------------------------------o

---------------------------------o

Reverse Hanahaki Disease

(?? do u spit out flowers when your nemesis walks by?)

Haha. At first it was going to be that way (because it is hilarious) but the inflicted would probably choke to death too soon. Or if both enemies had it, they'd end up just coughing flowers at each other until they stopped being enemies.

The version I ended up going with was that this variant of Hanahaki, instead of afflicting those with unrequited love, affected those in denial instead. The reverse part comes from the original idea that this would usually happen if you somehow fell in love with your nemesis (someone you originally hated). So it's not the thought that the other person can't love you, it's that you can't accept that you love that other person. You get cured by confessing to the person sincerely.

This is actually another KidLaw (surprise!). And the flower coughed up directly represents the person they're in love with (I went with Oda's flower representation for them because I found it funny for plot)

So the idea is that, you get sick but you don't automatically know (maybe) who it is because that's part of being in denial. Kid and Law have many enemies after all. In this story they both get it though not exactly at the same time and not known to the other.

He survived Amber Lead Syndrome only to be killed off by a stupid flower disease that apparently knows more about his own feelings than he does.

He glared at the petals. Tulips. Red.

An image of a cocky grin and a shock of red hair flashed through his mind and—nope. That's not right.

He coughed harder, tears stinging his eyes with the effort. More flowers. Now he has enough for a bouquet.

Alright, he was a doctor. He could do this. Differential time.

First, which variant does he have. He doesn't particularly feel unloved or hopeless. There wasn't anyone he wanted in particular to love him. Ok, nothing. It was maybe safe to say he had that other variant.

Which was stupid because Law had many enemies and he hated all of them.

And cue the racking coughs. More red. He was very familiar with that particular shade.

New theory. This was a new variant that somehow makes you sick when you think of the person you hated the most.

Yes, that had to be it. He thought as he all but collapsed on the floor from the sudden paroxysm.

I knew this was gonna get long. :) Oh well...

Thank you for playing. :D