#i want to make space for people who live in the grey spaces and the beginnings of journeys

[cascadianights]

I am so desperately Afraid all of the time that I erase most of what I have to say shortly after I say it, and, in doing so to run from the people who are Not taking meaning from my words, I've only now realized I take away that opportunity for all the people who Do

[meltinghun]

A real gentleman ; Joseph Descamps.

summary: Joseph and Reader never got really along until something changed.

warnings: genderneutral!reader, enemies-to-lovers, idiots in love!!, Y/N mentions lol, just kiss already.

author's note: Hi! I wrote this bc I fell in love with Mixte 1963, and when I looked up for ffs, there were NONE, so I said, 'I'll take one for the team' and came up with this. Please keep in mind that I'm not a writer and english is not my first language, I'll appreciate it if you can point at any errors. <3

The chilly breeze hitted their faces, making them close their eyes momentarealy due to its force, breathing in the smell of wet soil mixed with the freshly made bread from the bakery a few houses down the road.

The day looked very promising; today they woke up a little bit earlier than usual, using the extra time to finish in advance some english homework assigned for the next week and even strarting a big upcomig proyect due to the end of the month, hearing the weatherman in the radio as a background noise, announcing that it was going to be an unusually warm day of autumn.

Everything seemed perfect, the subtle orange hue of the skyes illuminating their face as they walked and the soft rumbling of cars passing by the principal street made them feel like a character of one of those romantic movies they dearly love watching, a thought that felt reinforced when every leave they stepped on made a perfect crunch sound. A soft greeting left their lips when they walked past one of their neighbours who was heading out to work like many other people did at those hours.

It truly felt like a peaceful morning.

'You seem lost in thought. Are you daydreaming about me already?'

Until it wasn't.

They dedicated a slight scowl towards the person who dared to interrupt their peace and inhaled a big breath of air before answering.

'Not even in your greatest dreams, Descamps.' They made a condescending gesture with their hand. 'Now leave me alone, yeah? I was perfectly fine until you came with your annoying presence.'

A booming laugh abandoned his throat. 'Don't act so disinterested. I know you couldn't live without my annoying presence even if you wanted.'

Joseph Descamps. He was a classmate of theirs that took an interesting liking towards their persona, or how they liked to say, a liking towards making their life miserable.

Since the start of the year he took every possibility to annoy them out of their mind, it started with some snark remarks insulting their way of doing certain things and it slowly progressed to petty acts, such as slighty tugging their hair when passing each other, hide their belongings when they aren't looking and even blocking their path by standing in the entryways, smiling down at them while demanding a 'password' that changed every day. Just petty acts meant to be a pain in the head.

He was everything they couldn't stand: a bully with some serious narcissist tendencies who, on top of it all, loved to get a rise out of people by pushing their boundaries and provoking them in any possible way.

But even with that horrendous description, Y/N couldn't avoid that rare feeling at the bottom of their stomach whenever he was close. At first they thought that it was a reflect of how disgusted they truly felt by his persona and the gross acts he usually did, a few weeks later, that feeling was accompannied with their heartbeat increasing when they noticed that he was invading their personal space, but chalked it up as just being nervous of his tall frame hovering them like some sort of prey, that made total sense on their head. However, some days later, he did something that made them realise what they truly felt for the boy with the patch.

It started to rain towards the end of the day, exactly 15 minutes into their english class and the frustration was clearly palpable, it was so unexpected that nobody could've predicted it; what it seemed to be a passing grey cloud turned out to be a massive downpour, Y/N started to complain with their friends about how it was a shame that they chosed to use the new sweater their grandmother knitted for them and how sad it was that now it would get ruined under the relentless rain. When the class was over, they noticed how Joseph went outside the building running and disappeared behind the school gates. They thought it was really weird, but they knew better than to expect something coherent from him. Minutes passed and it seemed like the temporal was getting worse so a few people decided to just suck it up and walk under the cold rain, sighing for themselves and rapidly lamenting once more the lost of the sweater, they prepared to follow the steps of the brave mass of students when a breathless voice interrupted their movements.

'L/N, wait!' A disheveled and completely soaked Joseph made himself seen, his shout drawing attention to the both of them.

'What do you want now, Descamps? I'm already late to home, I don't need you keeping me here any longer than necessary.' They stated with a confused frown, curious as to why was he there but trying to mask it behind indifference.

A smirk made its presence on his sharp features. 'I know, but I couldn't just let you go like that under the rain, that wouldn't be so gentlemanly of me, don't you think?' From behind his back, he pulled a blue umbrella and extended it to a dumbfounded Y/N.

Was that really happening right now? Did the most annoying person they ever met just ran under the rain to bring them an umbrella? And not only that, but he somehow managed to get one with their favorite color, too. Did he just called it to be a mere gentlemanly act?

It might as well start raining cats and dogs.

They opened and closed their mouth, being left without anything to say for the first time, a half-hearthed chuckle interrumping their messy train of thought.

'I heard what you said about your sweater and how sad you would be if it got ruined.' They swore that their heart would get out of their chest for how hard it was beating. 'And I didn't want you to get heartbroken for it, so I thought that you could use one of these.'

He closed the distance that separated them by taking a few steps, reaching out for their free hand and making them hold the umbrella, the contact between their fingertips sparkling a something deep inside each other.

'I know we are supposed to not like each other, but let me be nice to you for once, please.' His eye shining with an intensity they couldn't explain. 'Don't worry, we can keep hating us tomorrow.' When he saw that they wouldn't object, he turned around and began walking outside, getting under the rain once more.

Feeling the heat creeping on their face and having found their voice, they asked out loud.

'How did you know?' His head turned around enough for them to see his face. 'How did you know that it's my favorite color?'

They knew that it could've perfectly been a mere coincidence, something insignificant that shouldn't be overly analized, but something told them that it wasn't like that. They really hoped it wasn't. And it was confirmed when he flashed them another one of his infamous smirks.

'Sometimes I listen to you more than i should.'

Since that very moment it's been really difficult to fight the involuntary smiles that made a way into their face when he unexpectedly tries to integrate them to a conversation by asking their opinion on a subject, or the feeling of warmth that invaded their chest everytime they made visual contact and let's not forget how everytime they both "accidentaly" brush hands Y/N had the extremely rare need to interlock their hands with him.

But after all, he was still Joseph Descamps, the attractive cocky idiot who is always up on some trouble that he himself seeked out.

'...-ou cold?'

They blinked repeatledly with confusion written all over their face, the taller boy smiling down at them for being able to catch them distracted.

'Huh?'

'I asked if you weren't cold.' He repeated the question slower, a soft look on his eye. 'You are shivering'.

If he didn't pointed it out, they wouldn't noticed that, in fact, they were shivering. The chilly air becoming colder than before making them lowly insult the unstable weather of the so-called "unusually warm day", having only a thin cardigan that didn't do much to help.

'It's nothing. The school's a few blocks ahead, and I can take a little bit of cold.' Grumbled under their breath, only to sneeze some moments later.

The boy snorted while shaking his head before swiftly taking off his coat and placing it on their sholders. 'You are not going to catch a cold, or at least not on my company.'

'You are being awfully nice to me lately.' In a slight moment of braveness, they blurted out the question that was tormenting their head. 'Are you flirting with me, Descamps?'

An incredulous look got settled in his face, and they regretted saying it immediately, wishing to come back on time to stop themselves and save them from the embarrassment. Did they read the signals wrong? Was he only trying to become their friend? Was he only being nice? Was he...?

'Yes! Thank you for finally noticing it, I was starting to think that you were cruelly ignoring my advances.' A beautiful and dashing smile was sent in their direction, the biggest they ever saw him smiling.

And it was because of them.

A shaky sigh left their lips accompanied by a nervous laugh, not realizing they were holding their breath, with equally shaky hands coming up their head to accommodate their hair on a jittery action.

'I... I didn't know, really. I had a slight impression, but I thought that I was imagining things.' They cleared their throat in an attempt to regain their cool and collected personality. 'So, when are you taking me on a date then?'

The slight quiver on their voice was noticed by the still very amused boy, who took mental notes on how cute they looked flustered and to try to do it again in the future when given the opportunity.

'Would you accept if I asked you to skip school with me and have a date right now? I don't think I can wait any longer.' He asked with a playful tone, typical of him.

They let out a snort. 'I would tell you that you are crazy if you think that I would do something as risky as that. But lucky for you, I'm free today, so meet me at the cinema at four o'clock.'

'Then I shall see you there.' Replied between soft laughs, not believing that this was really happening. 'Some recommendations for this poor soul?'

The open gates were a few meters ahead of them, the other students that hanged outside throwing curious and shocked looks on their direction when they noticed the much larger coat that lied on Y/N's shoulders and the flustered smiles on their faces.

'Yes, the most important thing, don't you dare being late. If I get there and I don't see you, you can even forget that we know each other.' He brought both hands up in the air in a sign of redemption. 'I'm serious about this. You'll regret it if you do.'

'I wouldn't even dare thinking about it, I'll let Magnan take my other eye before screwing my opportunity with you.'

Their eyes widened at the hidden seriousness of the statement and the simplicity with which he pronounced it, the sincerity of it all making their heart race like crazy. Slowly nodding their head while trying to gather their thoughts.

'Well, it's settled then, at fo-...'

'Four o'clock sharp, I couldn't forget even if I wanted to.' He made a pause, regaining his usual playfulness. 'Should I bring you flowers? I want to be a real gentleman with you.'

'Okay, now you are showing off that you know how to flatter someone, shut up.' Rolling their eyes with a smile, they started walking toward the gates, leaving him behind. 'And I like camellias, for your information.'

'I only wish to flatter you, nobody else!' He said loudly, making people start to whisper about the supposed swear enemies.

'You don't want to know.' Was the only thing they said, accompanied by a slight shrug of shoulders.

Trying to bite back a bigger smile they waved him off, getting closer to their friend group with each step they took, all of them looking the exchange with incredulous eyes, silently begging for an answer as to what just happened.

They never before wished that the day would end up sooner.

[yourfriendowlbear]

Boundaries

Astarion x gn!reader

Summary: A stranger approaches Astarion in your favorite tavern

Genre: slice of life, little bit of angst, mostly fluff

The tavern is cozy. Loud and lively and warm. There’s a fire in the fireplace. The bartender keeps the alcohol flowing plentifully. And you’re seated at your favorite table–in the corner, against the wall but still close enough to the action to enjoy the tavern atmosphere–with your favorite cold-blooded company.

Astarion has dragged his chair around to your side of the table, and he’s sitting close enough that you can feel the chill from his skin.

You’re comfortable, a drink in-hand as you both watch the tavern’s small stage. There’s a musical group clustered together–a fiddle player, a flutist, a man with a hand drum, and a woman playing a horn–and there are people dancing just in front. 

Overall it’s joyous and raucous and fun, and though you’d originally had to practically bribe Astarion to come with you tonight, you can tell he’s enjoying himself all the same.

You both cheer when the band ends a song, and when they take a small break to chat with the crowd around the stage, Astarion leans back to say something to you.

But you never get to hear what he has to say, because at that exact moment, a man appears in front of you both. He’s handsome–strong jaw, piercing eyes, youthful energy–and his smile, though enticing, is predatory. A cat who has sighted a dove.

The man sizes you up briefly before turning his attention to Astarion. You can tell that the vampire knows what’s coming based on the way he tenses up. The stranger either doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t care, because he continues on without a care.

His opening line makes you roll your eyes. It’s cheesy and basic (“I saw you from across the room and I just had to come over and say hello.”) and he looks proud of himself when Astarion laughs and says “Oh, how positively quaint.” Poor sod can’t even tell when he’s being made fun of.

He’s shockingly persistent, asking questions, asking if he can buy Astarion a drink. For the most part, you’re sitting there, both offended because hello you’re right there and amused by Astarion’s polite but increasingly snarky responses.  

Around the third time the man asks to buy Astarion a drink, things start to get significantly less polite. And when the band starts up again and the man asks Astarion to dance, the vampire practically growls out “No. Thank you, darling, but I’m much more comfortable here.”

As he’s saying it, Astarion shifts slightly closer to you, as if he’s trying to get physically away from the stranger. You can tell he’s annoyed from how tense his jaw is.

“Oh, come on. Have a little fun.” The stranger’s persistence has finally pushed you to your limit and you snap “Gods above, he said no. Take a hint and fuck off.”

The stranger scowls, but ultimately, he does leave, and you follow him with his eyes as he weaves through the crowd and out the door of the tavern.

After a moment, Astarion stands, moving his chair back to the other side of the table. “I can handle myself, you know.” His voice is soft, but you can hear the hurt in it. “I know you think I’m just some pitiable creature that can’t set his own boundaries, but I assure you, I can manage on my own.”

You frown. Of course, you don’t think that. And of course, you know he can handle himself. You were trying to help. But when you go to say that, he shoots you a firm glare, and your words die in your throat. Instead, you simply say “It won’t happen again.”

You leave shortly after, the band no longer holds your attention, and you want to give Astarion some space. So you head out into the night.

Bloomridge is the nicest neighborhood in the Lower City. The City had gifted you the house after everything, and while at first, you’d chafed at the idea of living in the quiet, sweet, more affluent part of the city. But you’d both grown to love it. The view over Grey Harbor is unparalleled, and it’s shockingly nice to have somewhere quiet to settle down between adventures.

Your feet have carried you home, but you don’t really want to go in yet–the night is covered in a beautiful, light fog, and there’s a lovely breeze coming in off the harbor–so you sit on the front steps and lean your back against the door.

It’s only a few minutes later that you see Astarion picking his way back up the stairs along the side of the city wall. He pauses in front of you, and you can see the pain in his crimson eyes before he sighs and sits beside you.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly. 

Beside you, Astarion stiffens and inhales sharply. “Why are you sorry?”

“You’re right. I should have let you handle it. You’re more than capable.”

“I…” He deflates a little, and a confused frown creases his forehead. “I appreciate that you stepped in. Sometimes… sometimes it’s still hard to…”

He trails off, but you know what he means. Sometimes it’s still hard for him to enforce his boundaries. He tries, but 200 years of Cazador’s reign of terror don’t go away in a year. It can be difficult to walk the line between being firm and being outright rude (and as snarky as Astarion can be, he doesn’t always want to be rude).

These things take time.

You reach out and squeeze his hand, wordlessly telling him that it’s okay, that you get it, that he’s done nothing wrong. You’ll work on his boundary enforcement together. You have a lifetime together to do it.

[caraphernellie]

can u write ellie with dacryphillia

info: ok so... you know me. biggest softdom ellie truther. at least for jackson ellie. now i raise you: softdom ellie who has a gf in a bratty mood and she's starting to get annoyed by letting you have your way too often... so she basically jackhammers u until u get the point! she's in charge here <3

“kay, faster now.”

ellie’s order falls on deaf ears for the millionth time and she’s starting to reach a limit. she has been for some time now. she’s too soft, and who could blame her? her brain turns to mush the minute she’s got you this way.

dazzling green eyes focusing in on the way your body moves, the rippling of skin and contortions of your belly. her hands find home on the spaces between your ribs and your hips, thumbs rubbing circles as you bounce on her strap.

“hey,” ellie tries her best with you, putting on a stern tone now, and her hand weakly slaps one of your tits. she bites back a smirk of pride at your jolt. “do you hear me?”

you definitely do. but hearing isn’t the same as listening or even caring. not when the rhythmic circles your hips are moving in are scratching that itch so good. it’s satisfying the pit of warm need in your stomach that’s been waiting all day. the pit you begged and begged ellie to help you out with.

it’s how you ended up here, ellie still half dressed in her grey pullover and you on her lap with nothing but an unzipped hoodie on.

“aww, i thought you said you were desperate, baby,” ellie continues, “what’s this?”

a shiver runs down your spine, ellie’s hand moving over the expanse of skin on your stomach and squeezing your tit. she’s on two trains of thought, distracted by the way the soft ball of flesh fits in her hand, and trying to keep you in line. because what ellie can feel is her power slipping out of her grip no matter how hard she squeezes your body under her palms. 

“so you’re not even gonna talk to me?”

a fire ignites in ellie when you move slower, rolling your hips down onto her cock, the depth eliciting a drawn out and long moan from you.

“god, can you not be fuckin’ stupid for two seconds?” ellie asks, never genuine when she gets like this albeit it’s a rare occurrence for sure. she starts to buck her hips upward, fucking into you while forcing you to change your pace – her hands grip meaty thighs and begin bouncing you up and down. she revels in the way you mewl a little louder, the sight of your tits bouncing.

“like this. don’t let me tell you twice, baby. i mean it.” voice strained from the effort of her movements, ellie grunts and finally releases you. “you said you were desperate, so we’re making this quick, and i don’t wanna hear any complaints.”

i’m too nice to you sometimes, ellie thinks to herself. but she believes it pays off. she lives for the control, but she’s a more gentle lover. normally it’s enough to get you to listen just like it has right now, with you continuing at the pace she set. she watches with a satisfied smirk, her thumb reaching down languidly to flick at your clit.

“there she is, good girl.”

sometimes (most of the time), ellie gives in. she lets you do as you please. she never gets to hear you beg because she’s so weak for you, so eager to make her girl feel good, that she will give you exactly what you need when you ask. she will give up on trying to reign you in and do what she wants you to, only because the sight you are is already so convincing that ellie doesn’t mind. anything to see it, the furrow in your brows, your eyes rolling back. anything to see a happy, fucked out expression on your face.

so it’s no surprise ellie’s seeing a rise in bratty behaviour, she enables it. she shouldn’t complain, but she will anyway. it’s her fault and damn, she needs to do something about it before it gets worse. she’s had a busy week and doesn’t need this. because ellie hates her authority to be challenged by one of the only people she even has authority over. 

the fade of ellie’s smirk comes with the fade of speed. she hears the sweetest giggle escape your lips and she knows you’re treating this like some kind of joke now and she can’t have that. 

“we’re not doing this again, babe.” ellie’s voice is a low rasp by this point, the slightest bit of amusement present. what you expect might be another spank to the thigh before she inevitably gives in to you, but that’s not what comes your way.

this time it’s ellie chuckling. you yelp loudly as she flips you onto your back. she’s on top now, wasting no time, and she slides into you again.

everything happens too fast for you to fully process it, but she’s pounding into you now. the sounds of skin slapping, the squelching of ellie’s thrusts into your poor cunt, and your nonstop moans – it’s filthy. ellie can’t stop it now, grunts of effort made as she hooks your legs around her waist. if she didn’t know any better, she’d make some point about being able to see her cock poking and bulging out of your tummy, her thrusts deep and carnal.

hands balling the sleeves of your jacket into paws, you hide behind them, finding this to be one of the most intimate and closest experiences you’ve had. ellie’s caging your head between her arms, lip drawn between her teeth, eyes piercing down at you. she takes grip of your wrists and pins them down, laughing at you. “yeah, look at me, baby. look… who’s making you feel this good? who owns you?”

your eyes grow half-lidded and ellie’s face becomes a blur, tears clouding your vision whilst all you can do is halfheartedly moan her name in response. 

“poor baby,” ellie mocks, her voice a hoarse coo, as soft as she can manage. it’s a harsh comparison to the reckless power of her hips. as long as you will sing your pleasure to her, she won’t stop. “i thought you wanted it so bad, you wanted my dick so bad, so what’s your deal?”

“mm… n- noth–” you try, you try to speak, but things are getting fuzzy. there’s nothing to occupy your busy mind besides her. ellie, ellie, ellie.

you’re brought out of the fuzziness for a moment when ellie cups your face to wipe a tear off your cheek.

“you just needed me to do all the work for you, huh? so you can lay there cryin’ ‘cuz it just feels that good to get fucked like this?”

all you do is nod, pitiful moans and whimpers flooding ellie’s senses, egging her on just as much as the sight of her strap covered in your essence does.

“i try so hard to be nice to you, baby, feels like you just–” ellie takes one particularly hard thrust into your sopping cunt, “--take advantage of that like a slut…”

“m’sorry,” you squeak, hands wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her closer, closer, closer, nails digging into her back and eliciting a hiss. she’s getting sloppier now, tired and finding that the base of the strap is pressing too well into her clit, making her near delirious, like it’s her real dick she’s fucking you with.

“who’s in charge?” ellie demands to know, glaring down at you but with no malice, there’s nothing but lust and amazement as hot tears streak your cheeks. “who are you gonna obey next time?”

“you.”

“who?”

“ellie, ellie, ellie ellie ellie.”

“that’s right,” ellie scoffs with a nod. “good girl.”

shes so pretty and i need her really bad and um um um um

[diejager]

Okay so this is a character I have in the works but I'd love your interpretation.

What about a BunnyDragon!reader being introduced into the monster!141? Long drooping ears, a friendly temperament, spewing green flames that bring life and heal things rather than destroying them. But their claws and teeth just as sharp and deadly as any other dragon.

Rabid Cw: reader being a menace, fire, pyromaniac, tell me if I missed any.

Laughing, you dashed off, away from the mess you four created out of sheer boredom, green flames sparking and lingering on the corner of your lips were the only proof people had to link you to the few burning heaps around the base. Your ears flopped as you ran and hopped away, a skip in your feet and a bright smile splitting your face, flashing sharper than usual teeth at people who stood in your way. They all parted, little chuckles leaving their lips when they saw you, all used to your little pranks, the sly and mischievous gleam in your eyes when you got bored and the loud steps that followed you closely, either Price, Laswell or another superior chasing after you to scold you.

“Spread out!”

You separated from the others, taking your own path from the fork. Spreading out meant that it’d take more time to catch each and every one of you to bring to Price’s office, wasted time meant that you stalled your punishment and burned through Price’s anger and disappointment. You would rendezvous back on the roof or the airfield once you’d waited out long enough, or Price would hound you back to his office for a verbal lesson on behaving and not giving him and Laswell paperwork.

Which seemed to be your situation after he sent the others to find you, Soap brought back by the scruff by Ghost, Gaz by a stalking Horangi, Rudy by a snickering Alejandro and you by a touchy König. You sat on the armrest of the worn couch, giving space for your wings to breathe and flutter behind you, occasionally moving to soothe the small ache; and your tail to sway, moving back and forth on the floor like a dog wagging it’s tail. There was a slight excitement in your body, to see how Price would react to this stunt you pulled, bigger in scale and more obnoxious with the bright flowers and lively faun that bloomed after your flames died down.

“Want to explain it to me before we start?”

You all shared a look, seconds spent staring to convey a silent message that you all agreed on and that left you to work your magic. You gave him a cheeky grin, watching his eyes narrow and his arms cross before you stared your little explanation, going onto the blandness of the base, the sheer boredom you all felt and having to find something to occupy yourself with. You could feel disappointment ooze off Price in waves, his furrowed brows and shaking head to the small snickers and laughs from the men who caught you.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Price sighed, stepping away from his desk and moving towards you with big and quick strides.

You only smiled up at him, gazing at him through squinted and amused eyes, head perked up to his bowed figure, face nearing yours with a stoic expression.

“But you love me,” you let slip out, feeling especially cheeky and proud of your work, bringing life to a grey area.

“But I love you,” he agreed with a small smile, hitting your horns with his, a display of love and affection for dragons, “Doesn’t mean you’re not getting punished, any of you.”

Taglist : @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts

[ncteez]

✤ Losing It. (masterpost) ✤ // HIATUS

A series of having virginities given to you. Sometimes they throw said virginity at you with full force, other times, they lovingly hold your hand, bat their lashes, and say some of the dumbest shit you’ve ever heard a man say in regards to getting laid for the first time.  ✤ or the one where you go through a list of the seventeen members and learn how they'd lose their virginity to you.

COMPLETED CHAPTERS ― 1/13

SERIES STATUS: actively writing as of march of 2024!

NOTE― All chapters can be read stand alone and do not tie into the others. Each reader and storyline is different! 

SERIES WARNING―There are a variety of different scenarios here involving both very normal and loving sex, to some stories that may contain: sub/dom dynamics, religion kink, obsession, desperate behavior, and purchasing of sex work.

If any of these things make you uncomfortable, I urge you to scroll on and not put yourself in a position of discomfort. I did not write these fics to harm anyone. 

✤ this series is afab!reader. ✤ Warnings, tags, word counts, etc. can be found attached to each chapter. ✤ Disclaimer: some storylines and member order may be prone to change upon writing them. ✤ TAG LIST OPEN!! send me an ask off anon to be on the tag list for this series. you will be tagged for every chapter, not just the specific members you choose.

✤ Chapter One: Cherry Boy[l.c.]

A new relationship is always difficult to navigate, for Chan, it appears to be even more difficult. For you? You’re just left confused as to why your new boyfriend of a month and a half hasn’t made a move on you despite your very obvious attempts to invite him into your personal space. 

You soon realize that your boyfriend is a virgin, and that’s why he’s always running away with his hands covering his bits, even through a simple goodnight kiss. 

STATUS ― virginity loss: success WORD COUNT ― 10k

✤ Chapter Two: Thirst Trappers LIE. [k.sy.]

You find your very innocent best friend’s secret thirst trap account. To your surprise, the “I’m not ready yet” Soonyoung, who literally sleeps with at least seven different plushies, consistently swings his dick at onlookers online. Grey sweatpants, no boxers, thigh flexing, moaning and whimpering audios. 

Maybe he’s not so innocent after all. 

And just maybe you’re right about that, because what he meant by “I’m not ready to have sex yet” really just meant “please have practice sex with me because four thousand people are trying to pull up and i don’t want to be bad at it but i didn’t know how to ask you.” 

STATUS ― v card is actively blocking and reporting everyone who sends a dm EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Three: Scoring One. [s.c.]

The second best hockey player on campus has a secret. Not that he cheats on his exams, or that he had a crush on the lunch lady growing up, it’s that he’s shamefully a virgin, despite his jersey sporting the big bold numbers of a six and a nine.

Thankfully, Soonyoung found out about his dirty little secret and provides him with a number and a promise that the girl on the other line has a thing for desperate dudes. What he didn’t know? He was just about to pay not only the number one party girl on campus to take care of his little issue, but his own little sister’s best friend.

STATUS ― v card is currently tucked in his pocket behind a picture of his little sister. CONTEXT NOTE― this fic does not include an age gap of more than two years. EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Four: One unsolicited dick pic later. [l.sm.]

Never mind why he hasn’t managed to get laid, it’s not like he hasn’t laid in his room for years at night wondering the exact same thing. The current issue is the fact that his friends keep watching porn on the loudspeakers in the living room, he’s drunk, and he got the sudden confidence to send you a dick pic after not speaking to you since he wished you a happy birthday last year.

What he didn’t know though, is that you’ve had a crush on him since that time in third grade he punched Seungkwan for cheating off of his spelling test.

STATUS ― v card is currently sitting in your inbox unread alongside his raging hard-on. EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Five: LOST DOG: FOUND [k.m.]

Mingyu had the chance to lose his virginity right around the time all of his friends did but, well, there were some mishaps. Unfortunately, years later, he is still lying about the loss of it and pretends that he definitely has sex on the regular. He probably would too, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s grown incredibly insecure about his body and what it actually means to sleep with someone.  

Now though, the 26 year old man lives on the floor above you and is known as the pet-sitter of the building. Which is kind of great because it’s far too expensive to board your dog for weekend trips every month. You approach him for the first time with the offer of a hundred bucks to watch your dog, and of course he accepts. 

The issue upon returning home? He lost your 70 pound dog. Like, the whole thing, he lost it. 

STATUS ― v card being handed to you with the leash your dog was supposed to be on. EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Six: LOSER. [j.ww.]

After adding some anonymous dude you found on your city’s subreddit looking for gaming friends, you find yourself confused when he suddenly ghosts you after trying to hold a non-gaming conversation.

Through his friends, you learn that he got cold feet because he’s never been with a woman before, and you decide that you’re just gonna have to show him that a man and a woman can be friends without the assumption that either of you want to fuck each other.

Except, maybe you’re not the best example to prove that, because now you can’t stop flirting with him. Now, you’re growing fond of the way he gets all flustered and turned on at the slightest implication of meeting face to face.

STATUS ― v card is hidden deep within his steam library EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Seven: ISO: Anyone who wants me. [c.v.]

Vernon has never had a girlfriend and he wants one bad. Badder than bad. His group of friends get fed up with his consistent eye-rolls involving couples in public, them when they talk about their girlfriends or hook-ups, and ultimately decide to hold an auction at a campus-wide party.

He was feeling pretty ashamed about being announced as a virgin in need of some love, but the laughing didn’t bother him nearly as much when people actually start a bidding war. 

Apparently, these auctions happen once every few years  and it’s like, a whole thing or whatever. He just happened to be the lucky guy who suddenly has girls lining up for him with cash in hand. And you just happen to be the lucky girl to show him a good time.

STATUS ― v card is currently taped to his forehead EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Eight: To whom it may concern, My desk is sturdy. [l.jh]

The worst thing about spending the night at work to reach deadlines is the fact that the new intern likes to hang out with him. Or rather, distract him. It's insane, really, how he's always about doing things by the book. His whole life revolved around rules and regulations, until he met you. He wanted to wait until marriage, and marriage was not in his books anytime soon. So, with all the stress on his back and you sitting across from him trying to get him to live a little, he decides to live a little too much.

STATUS ― v card framed on his office desk EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Nine: How to be forgiven when you're (not) sorry. [h.j.]

Faith should be put into God, not the priest that consistently finds himself wanting to lead a pretty woman further from the union of God. He’s managed to hold off for most of his life from doing that, but all good things come to an end, he supposes. 

Marrying two sophisticated and loving members of the church was the easiest part of his night. The hardest part was pretending that their distant relative didn’t show up in inappropriate attire, with an even more inappropriate need to flirt with a celibate priest. For both him and his God, he finds himself praying more for his sanity than for the happy marriage of the two he just joined together. 

STATUS ― v card being used as a bookmark for his bible CONTEXT NOTE― this chapter contains inaccurate depictions of religious duties, sinning, blasphemy, questioning of god, and over all a blatant religion kink from yours truly. EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Ten: Paying it forward. [y.jh]

CAMPUS NEWS: RICH NEW STUDENT LOOKING FOR LEGS TO SPREAD.

Being born into a rich family is great and all, sure, when the family isn’t so strict that Jeonghan wasn’t even allowed to close his own bedroom door growing up. Dating was off the table for him too, junk food, trash tv, and even choosing his own career path wasn't something he got to experience in life...yet.

Thankfully, those strict reigns loosened when he got into a college far, far away from home. Now? Jeonghan is out for blood, and by blood, he means he is out to experience all those first-times he missed throughout his teen years. First up on the to-do list: get laid.

STATUS ― brought his v card but forgot his wallet EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Eleven: Friend Circles & Circle Jerks [b.sk.]

Seungkwan had his whole life planned out from the age of five. First, he would finish pre-school and get his diploma to become a doctor, mostly so he could buy a big mansion to live in with his family. Then, he would ask you, the neighbor kid next door, to marry him so that the two of you could stay up past seven in the evening. 

Well, it’s safe to say that the now twenty five year old Seungkwan did not become a doctor, nor did he ask you to marry him. To put it simply, you friend zoned him before he ever got the chance to tell you that he’s wanted to kiss you since he learned what kissing was. Still, he sticks around, picking up your little broken heart pieces from the ex that just dumped you. His hopes are high that, maybe, you’ll take notice of how he’s saved himself for you, and that maybe you’d really give him a chance. 

STATUS ― v card hidden behind his friendzone card EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Twelve: 48 Missed Calls. [w.jh.]

Junhui dated you for three weeks in highschool. However, It was a simple act of curiosity between the two of you and it ended fairly quickly due to, well, being teenagers. 

That’s how it was for you, at least. For Junhui? Maybe it was puberty, or maybe it’s just the puppy love he had for you but, he really couldn’t just let you go. He has brushed off any other person who offers interest towards him for years now because of you. You’re the only person he wants, and despite this obsession he has, you still manage to not notice it. 

Which is why he still holds the title of your best friend. A very, very, protective best friend. 

STATUS ― v card stuck in limbo just like his obsession with you CONTEXT NOTE― this chapter deals with instances of manipulation, obsession, and over all our boy here has some strange ass vibes (this chapter is not in any way dubcon or noncon). please be aware of this. EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤ Chapter Thirteen: Probably (not) a bad idea. [x.mh.]

When Minghao couldn't get a girlfriend throughout his younger years, his focus landed on none other than the world wide web. There, is where he decided how he intends to lose his virginity.  Several years and a very large porn addiction later, some lucky woman on one of the four different BSDM sites he signed up for will have the privilege of taking his virginity in more ways than one. He just knows he’s going to love every smothered, painful, wet, insulting second of it. 

STATUS ― v card is being used as a pickup line CONTEXT NOTE― this chapter has sub/dom dynamics in where minghao is an alt submissive man. there is ass-play in this. p.s.  it is not the greatest idea to lose your virginity to a stranger, especially if that stranger is found on a bdsm site. lower your moral standards for this one.  EST WORD COUNT ― 5k+

✤tag list: @aaniag @kissesfrmwonwoo @youronceupontequilas @kwanisms @sisterofsomeone @wonrangwoo @yawnkive @5xiang @mingyuonthemoon @listxn @sebongica @yawnkive @nishloves @sisterofsomeone @thepoopdokyeomtouched @ghostlycrystobalove @shiningnono @tomodachiii @porridgesblog @cheolctrl @notevenheretbh1 @jungkkoo @4cheezflatbred  @duchesskaren @flwrshwa @sexygrass @doljjongsmom @kpopcrazed @baalkoo @seonghwasprincess @pandoora-the-pink-goth @introdarling @ingloriousbasterdss @horanghaezone @starquokka @imprettyweird @kyeomray @skzoo-keeper this is for tracking purposes, if you are on this list, you will be tagged to all fics in this series unless you state clearly that you would not like to be tagged in fics that contain darker content.

[noveauskull]

Hello! If it's okay, can I please request some comfort fluff for Jiyan, Aalto + any other wuwa man you'd like! With a s/o that's usually very cold but ran away and hid away to cry due to all the pressure and whatever pain they're going through, but then the men come in and comfort them

If you're not comfortable with this I totally understand and thank you for your time. Have a good day/night!💕

WUWA Men And How They Comfort You (SFW)

(Jiyan & Aalto ver.)

AALTO:

You usually have a poker face most of the time. Even when Aalto would do goofy things around you it would take the size of a boulder to make the corner of your lips crack into a smile.

But today is different. Perhaps you believed you weren't enough these days, or that whatever you did waa futile and you'll never improve. Either way, it was just one of those many days where you felt like you were less than a living person.

Though your tears that were pooling onto your eyelids would say otherwise. Despite always having a cold demeanor, eventually you had to give space to letting yourself cry a little, even if it was just for a second.

You were too busy wiping every drop of tear that threatened to leave your eyes that you didn't notice Aalto standing a few feet beside you. The two of you in an alleyway somewhere in Jinzhou where you thought you were away from the eyes of the people there.

It took you some time to notice his presence, flinching a bit to look at the grey haired man, your eyes red from the constant rubbing you were doing.

"..." You couldn't say anything, afraid that your voice would waver while you asked him why he was here, but you couldn't see him opening his mouth to say anything at all.

"...What is it?" You spoke up, your voice hoarse from the attempts of you holding back your whimpers and cries, you watched as Aalto remain standing, unable to distinguish what face he was making since he had his glasses on.

You watched as he walked closer to you, your eyebrows furrowing when he suddenly kneels in front of you, taking off his glasses to finally show his entire face, his eyes had the expression of worry painted on them.

"Why are you crying all by yourself?" He asked, and you sighed, standing up and dusting yourself off.

"It's none of your business" You coldly brushed him off, turning your heels to walk away from him until you felt a grab on your wrist.

You turned your head to look at Aalto, who was now standing, facing you with his eyebrows furrowed, as if he was upset that you walked away from him.

"Hey, if things are too hard for you then just tell me. You don't have to shoulder everything by yourself" He said, his voice was calm, yet his hand that was on your wrist could feel you shaking.

You looked at him in shock, eyes beginning to gloss once again when you felt your tears coming back. You grit your teeth, frustrated that you couldn't keep yourself from crying again, letting your tears fall down to your cheek in defeat.

At the same moment, Aalto pulled you into an embrace, holding you to make sure you wouldn't run off again, or to just comfort you. Either way, the choking pain that was on your heart feels less painful than before, because now you had someone to cry to, and it was Aalto.

"It's okay, take deep breaths"

You felt his hand pat down your head, his other arm wrapped around your waist. Feeling each time you choke out a breath to cry.

-----

JIYAN:

It was easy for you to talk with Jiyan, since he too had a cold demeanor around him that intimidated everyone else.

However you couldn't help but wonder if he too had days like these, where your tears wouldn't stop drowning your cries, or when you have painful thoughts that wouldn't stop hurting yourself no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself from them.

But eventually, you needed to let yourself loose. Your feet would be stepping over each other in a fast pace, almost running but not quite, you didn't want anyone to suspect anything was off with you, so you had to play it cool.

That was until you finally made sure that no one was around, you hid yourself in the corner of an alleyway letting your tears finally fall down after forcing them to stay in your eyes for so long, mouth choking out small cries that you tried to suppress by all means.

You were too busy holding back your cries to notice a figure standing in front of you, even if you did noticed you didn't care to react. You'll entertain that person later, right now you had to wipe away your tears to confront them first.

But to your surprise it was Jiyan. The moment you made eye contact with him he kneeled down to you and held your shaking body close to his, he didn't bother exchanging a single word. All he did was comfort you until your tears stopped.

Even when it seemed like forever, you continued to cry onto his shoulder. The pain would be unbearable to the point you might've scratched onto his skin a couple of times, yet he never wavered once to stop comforting you.

By the time you were done, all he did was hand you a pack of tissues and sat beside you while you wiped away your snot and tears. Your face and eyes was incredibly red from the amount of times you had to cry onto him to the point you were lightheaded.

"...Are you alright?"

You hear Jiyan's calming voice ask, it was a stupid question, but you knew better than to poke at him for asking about your well being. He was only showing you his concern, that was all.

So you gave him a small smile, it wasn't a perfect one since your face was numb from all the crying, but it was a genuine smile that assured him that you felt much more better than before.

"Yes, General Jiyan. I'm alright now"

-----

A/N: I WANNA DO THIS WITH OTHER CHARACTERS TOO BUT I HAVE SO MANY REQUESTS TO DO HHHHH but it was really fun to write some angst/fluff once in a while so ty for the request!!! (maybe in the near future i'll reblog this post with other characters if this post gets enough recognition 🤷‍♀️)

[thevalleyisjolly]

There’s a weird recurring take in D20 fan circles that Zac doesn’t play “complex” characters and that people are just waiting for the day when he “finally” plays an asshole, which kind of baffles me.  Quite apart from the idea that only morally grey characters are complex or compelling, are you sure we’re watching the same show?

In Fantasy High, we have Gorgug, an adopted biracial teenager whose journey includes realizing his self-worth, coming to terms with his rage (literally), seeking out and navigating new relationships with others (his birth parents, the Bad Kids, Zelda), and discovering what he’s capable of. 

From The Unsleeping City we have Ricky, a second-generation Japanese-American, who has a very personal struggle across two seasons between doing the dutiful/sacrificial thing for other people’s benefit and expressing his own needs, wants, thoughts, and feelings; it’s a very particular exploration of immigrant generations and the relationship between the sacrificial model of your ancestors and the culture you grew up surrounded by which emphasizes the self.

There’s A Crown of Candy and Lapin, whose snark and one-liners are honestly less interesting than the way he engaged with and sought to understand religion and faith; the different yet similar ways in which both the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Church exerted control over their followers, and the search for spiritual meaning beyond these figures/institutions.

Then there’s Cumulous, whose every character aspect navigates a space of tension - the ultimate war guy who made himself hardened (literally) and pragmatic to get the job done but who also remains soft and caring and empathetic at the same time; wielding the power of death without glorifying or giving into it; the cousin who both is a member of the family and yet who remains at somewhat of a distance from the centre; a literal warrior-philosopher who is single-minded in battle and quietly thoughtful about the mysteries of life and death outside of it.

As for actual assholes, we have Norman Takamori in A Starstruck Odyssey, a bitter man who is the living embodiment of both the Superior Orders excuse as well as scapegoating.  On a side note, the amount of absolute vitriol and double standards which people threw at Norman during ASO for being an unapologetic asshole -and he had less than two full episodes of screen time- kind of underscores the calls for Zac to play a “real” asshole.  Zac can and will play whatever type of character he wants, but is fandom really ready for him to play an asshole if that asshole doesn’t have a secret heart of gold?

From the same season, we have Valdrinor/Skip, who starts as the “prince running from his destiny” archetype with a dash of brain slug possession, has a humorous yet oddly profound exploration of what humanity is and what it means to be human, and springboards from there into “wait, who am I really and actually, why are we doing things (brain slug possession) this way when there are other ways to engage with the universe.” 

Most recently in Neverafter, we have Pib, who apart from the fascinating meta element of being a literal character archetype, constantly straddles the line between self-absorbed self-interest and putting himself on the line to help others; his repeated demonstration of both at various points throughout the season is a subtle yet intriguing manifestation of free will and choice-making in a story all about lacking free will and agency.

So, I mean, lack of complexity where?  Does a character need to be an asshole in order to be deep or compelling?  And because I’ve heard this specific rebuttal quite a few times now, does a character need to vocalize their innermost thoughts loudly and frequently in order to prove their complexity?  If a character is “less vocal” compared to other characters, does that mean they lack interiority? 

Also, other people have brought this up before, but I am once again asking that people remember the difference between fictional characters and real life people.  Zac playing one (1) himbo on the show does not make him a himbo in real life, nor does it make him incapable of creating or playing complex characters (especially as said himbo is himself an extremely complex character), nor does it make him a lesser player than other cast members.  You don’t have to find all or any of his characters interesting or complex, but can we stop conflating character with player?

[ferie-anon]

🐚 Aspects & asteroid observations etc 🐚

🍵 I notice people with bella asteroid (695) in sagittarius tend to be known for their bigger figure and curvy for females, as sag rules the booty. Men with this placement could have broader shoulders and look athletic or look fit. Btw the bella asteroid (695) can show you where ur “beauty” is.

🍵 Bella asteroid in virgo tend to have an “earthly”/natural and warm beauty. Their skin could be tanned or just have a warm undertone. They could have big doe eyes, from the ones I’ve seen that has this placement.

Bella asteroid in libra or 7th house may be known for their harmonious facial features.

🍵 Moon in 9th/sag tend to space out at times I notice, or they don’t recall certain details/events at times if they don’t remember anything memorable of it.

🍵 Venus trine neptune falling for morally grey characters? 👀

🍵 Nymphe (875) in leo in conjunct the ascendant may have luscious and wavy hair or their hair is ethereal/pretty to others.

🍵 Jupiter conjunct asc = big chest + booty 👯‍♀️ tho I’m sure ppl alrdy know that 🧍‍♀️

Difference between pluto negatively aspecting ascendant vs positively aspecting:

Me having pluto square ascendant and ppl finding it a bit hard to approach irl becuz I look quiet and studious and isolated (pluto square asc ppl are private and keep to themselves)

While my friend has pluto sextile ascendant and people finding her interesting and easy to talk to, cuz shes kinda quiet but also wants to make friends/experience the fullest of life (pluto sextile asc makes them more comfortable and confident in their power and making them magnetic and able to understand others in a deeper and different way).

Also I have another friend who has pluto square asc and ppl think she’s judgy/intimidating or looks to be a critical person at first glance/impression, even tho shes actually chill and friendly. So sometimes they don’t approach at first till they find out shes nice actually.

Random moon sign analysis:

🍵 Interestingly I have two friends with moon in 9th house but they don’t act the same. One of them has virgo moon in 9th house at 15 degrees (gemini degree), and the other has gemini moon in 9th house at 19 degrees (libra degree). Both moon signs are in mutable signs and house(while the degrees are different), but I feel the degrees slightly change the way they process and interpret information. The one with the gemini degree in her moon in 9th tend to be a bit “scattered” and have random unusual but creative and funny ideas, whereas my friend with libra degree in her moon in 9th seems to be more calm and just going with the flow with her thinking and balanced with her side and processing what others are saying to add to it. Since libra degree is cardinal energy, so her process of thinking is more direct.

It could also be becuz the two moon signs are inherently different in their process since virgo moon is more practical but also tries to retain and have a lot going thru their head, while gemini moon’s brains easily access and connect a lot of things in their head at that moment or just intuitively/ gemini moons thinkings are less filled with overthinking as they are not focused on the effects but the "possibilities".

🖋️ Mars at 0 degrees would lash out or have a lot of anger in them. If u tick them off or they feel disrespected, their anger can be volatile or hurtful.

🖋️ Saturn in 4th house could indicate to a difficult childhood or a family life of feeling disconnected or alone at times. One of my friends has this in her natal chart and her family dynamics is complicated, as she feels distant with her father and step-mom, while her birth mother and grandma lives in another country and she feels closer with them.

🖋️ I notice if theres gemini in the big 3 and earth placements in the big 6 together, they may be interested in getting tattoos on their body. For eg. Taurus sun with gemini moon and venus, they may think of getting meaningful word tattoos on their neck. (Eg. Ricky from boys planet has a tattoo on his neck with the word rolemodel on it) meanwhile sung hanbin from boys planet has a word/quote tattoo on his inner part of his arm and he has a sun and moon tattoo around the center of his collarbone/chest (hanbin has a gemini sun pisces moon with taurus venus)

I just notice that if theres gemini and earth placements in there, they’re likely interested in getting tattoos over their upper body, like arm, neck, or back. I think the moon sign can heavily influence where they put the tattoos and wut type of tattoos. Pisces moon may be more visual and may have tattoos of objects that are symbolic to them. Gemini moon may tend to get a quote they find meaningful or a fancy word tattoo. Capricorn moon may have their tattoos around areas of their joints, area wheres theres bone structure to support like the back since capricorn rules the skeletal system.

[wood-white-writer]

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [6/...]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“On sunny days I go out walking, I end up on a tree-lined street. I look up at the gaps of sunlight. I miss you more than anything."

— Mitski, "Francis Forever"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.  The crew arrives at the Baratie, and several things go down in a matter of hours. Decisions are made, both stupid and not so stupid. Old and new faces come back into your life, and unable to deal with the events in Orange Town, you handle it in the worst best way possible: through the bottle.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, alcoholic indulgence on a catastrophic scale (drink responsibly ppl), blackouts, morally grey reader, violence, mentions of everyone (marine, fish people, pirates, etc.) having a past beef with Reader/"Cross-Hairs", Buggy POV in the end,

A/N: So, since this chapter was delayed, I think it compensates due to the fact that it is approximately 7k words long. The chapter jumps a little between the events of the Baratie, but there's a reason for that: the reason being that the Reader is shitfaced for most of the time during this chapter. Also, shout out to @ay0nha for putting up with my rambles during this period, really appreciate it XD

It hurts. Everything hurts. That’s the first thing he feels. 

His feet, his back, his torso, but especially his head. It’s like a hamster is running on a wheel inside the bones in his skull, squeaking, chirping, driving him insane from the inside. 

The wheel is pounding, and pounding until all he wants is to chuck that fucking hamster into–

“Hey, he’s waking up!”

Shanks? Why is he in his head? Fuck, he takes it back. The hamster can stay, rent-free, for as long as it fucking wants to, as long as it isn’t fucking Shanks—

“Buggy?”

On second thoughts, that voice doesn’t strike any sense of irritation with him. In fact, he finds it comforting, like the morning sun shining atop the ship deck. He doesn’t mind listening to that.

“Buggy?”

His eyes open, and he thinks he's seeing the sun for the first time. The sun and the moon, in fact, at the same time. Golden, blinding, warm, and cold, but he wants to watch them until his vision turns white and all sense of sight abandons him. 

It’ll suck to be blind, but damn, what a hell of a way to go.

The more he stares, however, the more everything else falls back into place. He realizes it’s not suns he’s staring at, but two sharp eyes and a concerned face that makes him feel just as warm.

He’s in a bed, he finally discovers. There’s a pillow under his head, a fresh sheet up until his midsection which strangely smells of vinegar, inside a room he just now remembers is the Oro Jackson’s de-facto ‘infirmary’ which really is just an old storage space that was refurnished when they first got the ship.

There’s something wrapped around his head, tight but not too tight that it’s squeezing. It’s been done by precise and sturdy hands; a professional, someone who knows what they’re doing.

He blinks once, then twice, and everything around him finally settles. Including everyone perched around the bed.

“Ah, Buggy, my lad!” It’s hard not to recognize the booming voice of his captain, who proceeds to lean over him with his hands pressed around his biceps until the massive mustache trickles his chin. “Thought you were a goner for a moment!”

He kind of wishes he was one because the strength of Gol D. Roger is not to be underestimated. His ribs squeeze and it's hard to breathe, but out of respect for his captain, all that leaves his throat is a guttural groan that he hopes conveys the message clearly enough.

Gol D. promptly removes himself from his poor apprentice with his hands raised, and when he steps back, Shanks takes his place next to the bed. “Gods, Buggy! What were you thinking? You could’ve been killed! Rayleigh said you were lucky it was just a concussion!”

That’s when it dawns on him. Riiight, there was a scuttle. Some asshole pirates trying to ambush them, they picked the wrong fucking targets. Some … guy was flying over him? Did that happen, or was it just a fever dream?

He remembers kicking someone in the balls, and then … and then …

Lightning. Making its way for him as the darkness embraced his vision. A line of gold, straight as a sword, narrowing in on him.

Did it catch him before the darkness did? 

He hopes so.

“Lay off me, will ‘ya!” he shouts at his friend, trying to get up. However, the fucking hamster wheel in his head keeps spinning until he settles back down against the pillow. “I was doing good!”

“Yeah, until you weren’t!” Shanks disputes and grabs his fellow apprentice by the collar of his sleeve. “I told you to fucking move, but it’s like you spaced out! She had to carry you all the way back here with your head all bleeding!”

Carry him?

He glances at you, finally. You’re sitting there, hunched slightly over the bed with those eyes looking at him, and he’s thinking you fucking carried him? It’s not that he’s ashamed, not at all, but if anything, he was always hoping the roles were switched. 

He’d be the one carrying you. With your strength, he imagined it would be quite the weight to uphold, but he would do it. For you, he would move the seas if he could, Devil Fruit or not.

“Buggy, are you alright?” 

You’re the one talking this time. Not the captain, nor Shanks, just you. The lighting is here, and he feels his skin prick. It’s electric. Cold. Warm. All and nothing combined. He could listen to it – feel it – for hours, days, maybe even years without ever growing weary of it.

He puts on his best brave face and scoffs, forcing his arms to cross themselves despite the surge of aches that rush through his body doing so. “Of course I’m alright! I’m Buggy! I bounce back, always!”

“Still,” your hands fall on top of his, and he feels his body freeze. “I was worried.”

“’Worried’?” Shanks cackles and gestures to you with his thumb over his shoulder. “You should’ve seen the damage she left behind. The entire place was smithereens, I tell you, Buggy! She knocked over those assholes like frickin’ chessboard pieces!”

“What did I always tell you?” Gol D. slams a hand on top of your shoulder, knocking you slightly forward. “She’s got eyes sharp enough to cut through steel, and pirates too, apparently.”

You laugh awkwardly. “I didn’t cut through them, really. I just … knocked them a little over.”

Shanks cackles. “Don’t be humble. You should’ve seen the guy who knocked you out. I swear, none of his bones were where they were supposed to be. He won’t be walking, or doing much of anything, ever again.”

Buggy can imagine it, but also not. He looks at you now, and he sees his concerned friend with those kind eyes that contain both the sun and the moon. He’s always known you’re strong – the strongest person he knows of save for his captain, but not unkind. Not cruel. Not sadistic.

Yet, if what Shanks just said carries any weight, it confirms what he’s always known. 

You’re a beast, and beasts only follow their prime instincts. They don’t allow others to harm what or who they consider theirs.

And it means that you consider him yours. 

Maybe in a different way than he’d prefer, maybe in a way that’s different from the kind he harbors towards you, but it still confirms he’s yours. 

He will never want to find himself on the opposite side of that. Of you. Never you.

When he looks at you again, looks down at where your hand is pressed on top of his, he takes it in his own. 

“I’m fine,” he finally says, his lip tugging in what is supposed to be a smile. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, though.”

You chuckle softly, and he smiles. Fuck, how can he not? He remembers it all so clearly. The way your dimples are shaped, the length of your hair, the soft tint of your lips.

“You? Never.” You finally say. “Never you”

---

You reflect on how it's weird that some things change whereas others don't. 

Flowers prosper and bloom and die. The sun ascends, stays up for a few hours, then descends back into the horizon. 

Friendships grow strong, stay strong, then they aren't.

Some things change, some don't. 

Baratie being among the latter.

It's bright enough inside to momentarily blind you, just like it was a little over ten years ago. Save for new faces with the employees and some design choices, the overall place has stayed the same. 

There are people there of prestigious backgrounds - both pirate and not - and you think of how receptive the restaurant must've been to make both parts come together without any regular scuttles. 

A neutral ground for all to come and enjoy the feast. Well, that is the principle, but not everyone abides by it.

It’s been a while since you last visited the establishment, and last time, you were banned for life. 

Frankly, you don’t recall much of the events; too drunk on rum at the time.

What you do remember is that it involved a few broken bottles of Baratie’s finest wine, some mashed-up furniture, and cutlery, a rival captain who wouldn’t take a “fucking get lost” for a “no”, and it ended with you standing surrounded by a bunch of broken bodies of your own making.

Needless to say, Zeff was pissed. 

More than pissed, actually. He was fuming.

He probably still is.He has a thing for grudges if he’s still alive.

Maybe … Just maybe the old man’s chewed off something more than his leg and kicked the bucket? That’d be a sight to see considering he only has one remaining foot.

"My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?"

The waiter - Sanji - is fine, not going to lie. A good fighter, too, if his little display seconds ago is a testament to that. A bit too young for your preference, with a nose too small, and hair too bright and blonde. Not quite blue colorful enough.

All in all, not a bad look at all. Just for the aesthetics, though. A solid 7/10, you conclude.

"One of everything, please!" Luffy requests enthusiastically.

For whatever reason, Sanji does not seem to share your general affinity for the restaurant. That’s odd. Most people who work here tend to boast about their occupation in the famed restaurant.

Though, if you have to make a guess, Zeff is likely a contributing factor behind that disdain. He’s tough on people, even tougher if he likes someone.

As discontented as Sanji seems, however, it does not keep him from trying to withhold his flirtatious demeanor with Nami. A Casanova, it looks like. Funny.

"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?" Zoro asks, fed up with the one-sided dalliance going on between your shipmate and the waiter.

"Two beers!” Usopp promptly adds. “though, I usually have three."

"And one milk!" Luffy chimes in.

"Three beers and a milk," Sanji notes. His eyes land on you, and that signature smile falls to his lips. "And for the ladies?"

You’re already here, you think to yourself. Why not make the most of it? For nostalgia’s sake.

"A bottle of Baratie's Finest," you request, your chin resting in your palm. "Not the kind you keep for customers, though. Pick one from Zeff's private stash, if you can afford to smuggle it past his bushy nose?"

"A classy beverage for a classy lady, I see." A mischievous glimmer shines in his eyes and smile. "Although that stash is off-limits, what kind of a man would I be if I refused a lady her desired beverage?”

You tilt your head a fraction to the side. "I'm sure he won't mind. At his age, he needs to watch his liver."

"That is true,"

Quite frankly, everything else evades your attention the second the waiter arrives with your order. Sanji brings you your meals, and your pricey bottle of Baratie's Finest, and it’s the Red Apple edition.

Perfect.

You eat, and eat, and drink, and then drink some more, not even stopping to concern yourself with the price tag. 

The food at the Baratie's has not been in decline when it comes to quality above all else. It's delicious, and not a lot of places have earned that kind of claim in your life.

The food is good, but the drinks are ethereal. 

One glass turns into two, and two promptly becomes three. So forth, and so forth. Anything to dull the tightness lodged in your chest. 

A tightness that has not left you alone in the past couple of weeks.

You've developed a pretty good tolerance over the years, and after several more units, you begin to feel the tickle on the edge of your hands. Baratie’s Finest indeed.

After five, the feeling settles on the tip of your spine.

After seven, you start to wonder what went wrong. It's a dangerous area to indulge in, especially if liquor is involved, but you don’t stop.

What went wrong?

What did you do wrong?

In another life, you would've traveled the world with them, doing nothing but drinking, fighting, exploring together.

Instead, you’re here, drinking with a crew yet still feeling like the loneliest asshole in the world. It’s not your crew.

You lose a smidgen of focus, and in the grand specter of things, focus is something you could do well with less off. 

You can afford to think less, feel less, and know less. Life has been full of ups and downs, and quite frankly, you've grown weary of it all.

Fuck, maybe Luffy’s onto something? Maybe you are sad?

… Nah.

Once Zoro orders another beer, you go as far as to share your bottle with him. His face scrunches at the taste and he coughs several times, but he admits that it’s good.

As you sit there on the edge of the couch, sipping your beverage and tasting your food, Sanji arrives to collect the bill. You know Luffy doesn’t have a berry to his name yet, and so you wonder how long it'll take before Zeff notices.

More specifically, how long it’ll take him before he realizes he's missing something from his private collection?

“Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?!”

Speak of the Chief… and he shall appear.

This time, you do not interfere when Luffy attempts to bargain for his lack of cash. You simply sit back and observe. 

As much as Luffy tries, he does not have the words or mind suited for this kind of business yet. It’s Capitalism at its finest. 

“You eat, you pay!”

Thoughts and dreams can only get you so far in life, but at the Baratie, it’s coin.

When Zeff grabs Luffy by the front of his shirt, the chief's eyes turn to you, and holy hell, is he furious. 

“And what in the blazing hell are you doing here?!"

“Zeff,” You greet him and raise your beverage his way, a tilted smirk on your face. "It’s been too long."

"Not long enough! I thought I told you to get fucking lost last time? The damages you did cost a fortune!"

“In my defense, it was the other guys that started it.”

He gives you such a dirty look that his jaws clench. “Don’t give a shit. Why are you here?”

You twirl the bottle around in your hand. "Just enjoying the ambiance, as always. I was in the area, and so how could I pass up the chance to try your scrumptious meals again? Or drinks, for that matter?" 

On cue, you raise your - or rather his - bottle closer up to him. 

It’s stupid, the rational part of your brain argues. One does not fuck around with the Chief of the Baratie, but among the few joys you have left in life, this remains one of them.

His eyes narrow in on the bottle and there he is.In the blink of an eye, he snaps it out of your hand with such fast precision that you're almost caught off-guard. 

Zeff narrows in on the mostly empty flask like it's personally insulted him and his entire lineage. “Where did you get this?"

"It was on the menu."

"It sure as shit was not! How could you—" He freezes like a thought suddenly dawned on him, and if a man can become purple from anything other than oxygen deprivation, Zeff's current mood is the closest thing to it. "Sanji. Why that snot-nosed, little—! ... When I get my damn hands on him."

It seems that whatever vendetta Zeff has towards his employee, it outweighs the one he has for you tenfold, which says something. Without another word, he yanks Luffy by the scruff and all but drags him with him to the kitchen. 

Ordinarily, you would’ve intervened on behalf of your captain, but with Zeff now preoccupied, it’s your chance to rob the bar of a few more beverages.

And in your dictionary, “a few” is the equivalent of “a shitton”.

"Wow," Usopp murmurs with a low whistle. "That guy really hates your guts."

"What are you talking about? I’m his favorite customer." You raise what remains in your glass to them. “Anyone want another one?”

"I do," Nami relents.

Zoro laughs, probably for the first time since you’ve met him. "Now you're talking."

Maybe, just maybe, you’re beginning to like these people. 

With a couple more drinks, maybe you’ll be able to tell.

———

“You know, I kind— I kinda assumed you were an asshole when we first met?” 

Usopp’s struggling to stand on his feet, legs bent slightly forward as he makes a half-assed attempt at ordering another drink. You can’t tell if the bartender is electively ignoring him or not, and truth be told, you don't blame the guy if the former applies.

Between the two of you, you’re more adept when it comes to dealing with liquor. Sure, your lips are a little looser now and the bright lights are starting to hurt your eyes, but all in all, you’re not even half as drunk as you want to be. 

Seriously, fuck me sometimes. You just had to go all out when you were younger. Days and nights spent pouring bottle after bottle left your liver hardened rather than weakened.

Now, because of the high tolerance you stupidly developed, it's come here to bite you in the ass and keep you from getting wrecked. 

“Oh?” Your sarcasm couldn't be any more discernible than it is now as you eye your crew mate. “What made you reach that conclusion?”

Usopp twirls around, horribly off-balanced, and slaps a hand over your shoulder. 

A little too personal for your liking, but you let it slide for now.

“I mean, for starters, you—,” he hiccups. “You always have that look about you. Like someone just pissed in your ale.”

You give him an unimpressed but vaguely piqued once-over. “Descriptive. Go on,”

“And soso— And so I and the guys are wondering if you’re like that because some clown broke your heart or—,” he hiccups again. “Or some— something? Did he piss in your ale?”

You shrug his hand off at once. You don’t want to think about him, now least of all. "No.”

Not even a second later, his arm his back over your shoulder and he leans closer. It's probably meant as a comforting gesture, but given how absolutely wasted he looks, you perceive it with a grain of salt. 

"Y-You can tell the great Capt— I mean, the Great Usopp, alright? We've all been there before, I—I'm ssssure. I mean, Zoro doesn't strike me as much of a ladies' man, but he's probably got stories, too."

The bartender finally stops by and leaves a beer bottle in front of you on the table, completely ignoring your companion, and disappears to make his next rounds.

You take the flask and flick the cork off with your thumb. "Well, if you really want to help, —" 

You turn around so that your back hits the bar counter, twirl Ussop around with the guidance of your hand and shove him lightly towards where Nami and Zoro are sitting. "— Talk to the others first about their heartbreaks."

If he wants to object, he's too drunk to for it. Instead, he recollects his limited stance and all but wobbles over to the corner where your other companions are seated.

He’s their problem now, but it’ll be an interesting display.

You recline against the bar counter to chug your beverage in peace when a voice suddenly speaks up from next to you. 

“I thought you were retired.”

With how loud the music is, it might have slipped your notice completely. Then again, the owner of said voice has always had that thing about him. 

He could whisper, and the entire room would’ve heard.

You glance up at your side, and you’re halfway tempted to smile when you see who it is. 

“It’s been a while, Hawk-Eyes.”

Everything from the feather on his hat to the cross around his neck and the pointy way his beard is trimmed has stayed the same. Not a scar, a bruise, or blemish to spot on him.

In ten years, he looks to have aged only one. Some people are fortunate in terms of youth, and you would definitely consider Dracule Mihawk one of them.

“Cross-Hairs.” He inclines his head to you, a silent courtesy reserved only for those whose company he tolerates. “I believed you abandoned your life behind the mast years ago.”

You take another generous gulp from your bottle before you respond. "So did I, but life finds a way, doesn't it?"

"Indeed." He peeks over his shoulder to where your companions are seated, his countenance less than impressed. Then again, that's just his face by default, so hard to tell with him. "And last we met, you were a Captain."

"Last time we met, you almost cut my right arm off." For emphasis, you pull back your sleeve to show off the straight scar that separates your upper arm from the rest. It's faded, old, and never noticeable unless you decide to wear anything short-sleeved, but it's there all the same.

He doesn't apologize. Of course, he wouldn't. Instead, he raises his sparse glass of wine to you. "Nothing personal."

You raise your bottle to him in turn. "Of course not,"

Clink!

You drink your respective beverages in companionable silence. However, even with your halfway inebriated state of mind, you can't help but think of the reasons for his presence. 

You have your suspicions, and you're not shy about voicing them.

"This isn't your usual scenery." You say. “What makes one of the great Warlords of the Sea seek out a place such as this? Business or pleasure?"

"Business," he answers curtly, as though he'd prefer to do anything but. "I'm looking for a captain."

“It’s not Shanks, I take it?”

“No, it’s not. It’s a captain by the name of Luffy.”

It doesn't surprise you. It should, but it doesn’t.

The lengths the vice-admiral is willing to go to retrieve his grandson, which apparently includes hiring a Warlord to do so, doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. Unbreakable willpower is a family trait, after all, if you've learned anything from Luffy. 

It wouldn’t suffice with a gun; he had to send the entire fucking arsenal.

Still, at least it’s Mihawk of all people. It shouldn’t be a source of relief, but had it been anyone else, be it Kuro or Axe-hand or Bu-... 

Your fingers subconsciously dig into the fragile, empty bottle you’re holding.

The point is, had it been anyone else, you would've intervened. You have intervened, several times by now, but not tonight. 

Tonight, you're here to drink and forget, then drink some more. You don’t have the sobriety to worry about much of anything anymore.

"Garp must truly be at his wit's end if he employs you for his endeavors." Once you retrieve the bottle at your disposal, you pluck off the cap and swirl it lazily in your hand. The lights from the bar dance around the transparently brown rim, like a shooting star with no exit and no entrance to the rest of the universe. Forever stuck. "Seems excessive to send you of all people after something so seemingly simple."

"From what I've heard, this particular quarry is something of a wildcard."

"If you’re here, I’m sure of it."

Mihawk tilts his chin up, eyeing you curiously in your peripheral vision. "Are you saying that you're acquainted with this Luffy?"

"I'm saying no such thing. It's just mere speculations on my part." Another fistful of alcohol travels down your esophagus. "You're only employed when it's truly serious, and the vice-admiral is known for only getting involved in those kinds of matters. It adds up, is all I’m saying."

“I hardly consider it dire. It's more a means of killing some time on my part." He does not take his eyes off of you, and even in your current state, you can tell that something is brewing beneath those sharp eyes. "However, if said captain has you in his arsenal, then I feel like some investigation is warranted. After all, the Captain of the Cross-Haired pirates is not particularly known for her tendency to submit to others."

You quirk an eyebrow at him and circle your finger around the bottle rim, pondering on the subject yet not biting at the metaphorical carrot he dangles in front of you. "Technically, it’s just like you said: I'm retired, and the Cross-Haired pirates are no more. I’d think most people are aware of that.”

"The Marines believe otherwise,” he counters calmly. “The Cross-haired pirates may be disbanded, but their captain’s bounty remains on the posters. The vice-admiral was quite adamant that, while he wants the boy alive, he’d prefer it if you weren’t."

“I see.” The vice-admiral should learn to take a fucking number. “Tell me, have you elected a means of execution, or is it the dealer's choice?"

"I recall he mentioned something along the lines of wanting your head on a spike."

"Crude."

"I agree."

"Then," you raise your glass. "Am I to have my last drink here tonight?"

He shakes his head. "No, I'm here for the boy and nothing else."

You'd expect him to be forward with his line of questions; demand you just give Luffy up and be done with it, not side-stepping the subject like he's doing now. 

If he suspects something, he'll sniff it out like a bloodhound until he gets what he's searching for, regardless of how many cards or people fall around him. You’ve not exactly been subtle about your affiliations with his quarry, something you’ll berate yourself for come morning, but it all depends on how this plays out now.

"I won’t give you the answer you seek. You’ll have to do that on your own.”

You're not friends, but you're not necessarily foes either. 

For as long as you’ve known the swordsman, Mihawk's only ever had a beef with Shanks for reasons undisclosed even to you. Even after you parted ways with your red-haired crew mate, Mihawk never seemed to have anything personal against you despite the rather brutal nature of your previous encounter. 

If anything, there's a certain level of respect veiled between you, one former pirate to another semi-former one, and it’s something you hope he'll honor just this once.

To your relief, he decides to not push the matter, but the interest lingers in his eyes. 

It's not easy to notice, but you make it a habit to take note of limited details. "The boy must be something special to have earned your loyalty like this, Cross-Hairs." 

"I suppose you'll have to find out for yourself." 

"Perhaps so," he concedes.

You chug the rest of your drink in one go, put the empty bottle on the tabletop in the space between you, and push yourself off the counter. "For what it's worth, I wish you good fortune with your endeavor. However, I’ll warn you; if anything happens to the kid, I'll get involved.”

“Duly noted.” Once again, he dips his head to you. "And Cross-Hairs,"

"Hmmm?"

You glance at him from over your shoulder, but his gaze is fixated on something else this time. Something on the other side of the bar, to the borders of the waters. If he sees anything, you can't tell what it is, and he doesn’t share. 

Not explicitly.

"There is unrest brewing in the seas," he finally reveals, casually as if he's discussing the current state of the weather. "I'd suggest you keep your feet dry for now, at your convenience."

You don't know what he speaks of, but whatever it is, you'll follow. He is not a man who prides himself on his capacity to proclaim falsehood. If he tells you that the sun is green, you'll believe it, and you make it a habit not to believe in a lot of people.

That applies to this warning too.

"I'll see you around, Hawk-Eyes."

You need another drink.

———

You slip in and out of consciousness a couple of times throughout the night, never coming to the same places twice, with a belly full of rum, beer, and whatever else with enough alcoholic percentage to knock out a horse. 

At one point, you're in the restaurant munching on some bread rolls.

At another, you're puking your guts out in the bathroom stalls. 

At the third, you're chugging even more liquor straight out of the bottle while a bunch of people cheer you on.

The circle goes on and on and on until it spins out of control like a zoetrope. Faces flash in front of you, one after the other, never the same two times in a row. 

It's alright, you tell yourself, as long as you forget.

You forget about blue eyes, blue hair, and red noses. 

You forget about Gol D. Roger and the time you spent on his crew.

You forget it all, if only for a few hours.

Next time you come to, you're still miraculously standing on your feet. You’re currently in the kitchen on the Merry, and currently listening to Nami telling a ridiculous story about how Zoro challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel.

What a funny story.

In fact, it’s so funny and so outlandish that you can't help but snort. Since when has Nami been the kind of person to tell jokes?

Maybe Usopp's tendencies have rubbed off on the standoffish young woman, or maybe she's smoked something along with her drinks? 

Fuck, you have to ask her where she got the stuff.

It takes a few moments of awkward silence until you realize that no one is joking, Nami least of all. The room is still, and as if all alcoholic content has left your blood, it dawns on you last of all.

Oh hell no.

You slowly turn to Zoro with a deadpan look in your eyes, and despite the urgency, you ask him as calmly as you can, "You challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel?"

He bobs his head and continues polishing his swords. "Which he accepted,"

You blink, and blink, hoping that this is just a fragment your beer-and-bottle-drenched brain has conjured to fuck with you, but Zoro remains where he is and so is everyone and everything else.

Fuuuuuuuck…

You thought he was one of the smart ones, too. His sense of navigation doesn't work for shit and if anyone can get lost on their way to the lavatory, it's him. Still, you withheld some semblance of hope that he would exhibit the same kind of recklessness as his captain.

Turns out, it has all been for naught.

You rub your temples hard enough to sting. With a nasty headache developing, you decide to pop the question. "Cremation or burial at sea?"

"... What?"

"Pick one or the other, I'll see to it that arrangements can be made."

"I'm not going to die.”

"You are a fly to him." Nami grimaces. "Something to be swatted and forgotten,"

"Not if I win." Zoro is steadfast and determined, like every new pirate on their first voyage.

It’s a look you remember well. In a way, the young swordsman kind of reminds you of Mihawk himself, and if there's one thing you can link to both, it's that annoying stubbornness that never yields. Even when the odds are against them.

"You're not going to win," Nami tries.

Zoro remains infuriatingly unconvinced. "You don't know that."

"You won't." This situation, to your chagrin, sobers you up enough that you can't blame the liquor on your next actions or words. 

You take a step towards him, and with an iron fist, grab him by the front of his shirt and force him to face you. He's unamused. “I think I liked you better when you were drunk,” he murmurs.

"I want you to get this, really get this.” You snarl. “Once you go against Mihawk, and there's no coming back for most. He's not known as the World's Greatest Swordsman for no reason, and as good as you are, take it from me. He'll end you."

He inclines his head to the side with deep-rooted skepticism. "Sounds like you really know the guy,"

"It doesn't matter whether I know him or not." 

"Everywhere we go, we make enemies, and for some reason, they've already got a grudge against you, Captain Cross-Hairs." 

With one hand clenched against your offending wrist, he starts to list off his other hand. "Since you know just about every asshole we come across, you might as well tell me about Mihawk's preferred method of execution. Will he chop me in half, or is he excessive like the damn clown and goes all the way with splitting someone into pieces?"

You feel your nails begin to pierce through the fabric of his shirt, inches away from leaving open gaps. You're not their guardian or their mentor. You're not the one supposed to keep the crew at ease or lead them towards certain victories. 

That's the captain's role, and you're not it. Not on this ship, with this crew.

Your only purpose here is to keep them from killing themselves on their first voyage, but if they're so determined to do it themselves despite the warnings you provide, then it's not on you.

Pulling him a few inches closer to you, you look him straight in the eyes, and that's when you see it. The aforementioned stubbornness that follows each and every young pirate you've come across in your life. The notion that they're invulnerable; unkillable. 

Nothing can hope to end them.

You remember what it was like, that feeling, and it almost breaks you to see it in front of you like this. 

You know aggression won’t do it for him, so you try an approach you haven’t tried in years. Bargaining. 

“What will it take for you to pull back from this?”

“He’s coming for Luffy. I’m his first mate, it’s my duty to protect the captain.”

To protect the Captain…

That's how you know that there's no convincing the young swordsman to stand down, not this time. 

He's persistent, exceedingly so, and if there's one thing you've learned during this voyage with these people it's that hell hath no fury like a straw hat pirate determined.

This is not on you, yet it doesn't make it any easier to let go of him. But you do.

Taking a deep breath, you uncurl your fingers and let him step back. 

"Fine."

You need another drink.

Glancing over your shoulder, you meet Luffy’s concerned gaze. “This is your call, captain.”

You don’t need to be here for this. You’ve done your part, and now it’s his turn to do his.

You give Zoro a pat on his back, just one. It's not meant for comfort, it's not an act of sympathy either. 

It's just a pat, like the kind you give your friend when they're about to gamble away all their savings over a game of cards. It’s the “fuck around and find out, but do it yourself”-kind of gesture.

Heaving a sigh, you sidestep him and let your fingers fall off his shoulders. "It's been fun, Zoro." 

And the worst part about this all is that you mean it, truly. It has been fun to sail with them, share a few beers, and joke at the expense of others. Your time on this ship has been fun. 

Like old times.

You won't go as far as to call Zoro a friend, you never do, but it's close enough that you'll probably miss him in the long run.

Zoro looks at you, his countenance indecipherable. "Say that to me again when I win this fight,"

"I can't." Because you won't.

---

The water forces its way into his lungs at such speed that it feels like he's swallowed buckets by the time they finally come up for air. He harks and coughs and tries to get as much of it out, but he doesn’t feel any lighter. 

Get it? Lighter, because he’s just a head now and— alright, forget it.

For once, he's happy his head is disjointed from the rest of his body because if it wasn't, he'd probably sink to the bottom of the ocean from the fluid in his belly alone.

The taste of salt and sand stays like a sour afterthought on his tongue, and as much as he tries to spit it out, he can't be rid of all the grains. "Fuck! Give me a warning next time, will ya?! Kinda vulnerable to seawater and all that!"

Whatever fish-guy has him strapped to their back this time does not dignify his complaints with a verbal response. Instead, all he hears is a couple of snickers, like their humor is fuelled at his expense. 

Assholes, the lot of them. 

It takes some time for the tangy scent to abandon his nostrils, but once it does, it's immediately replaced by the fine scent of something divine. Something delicious. 

It smells of food. Actual fucking human food. Not whatever Arlong and his litter gorge on, which he personally believes to be carcasses of dead sea animals they happen to catch on the shores of their island. 

It's honest-to-god cooked, seasoned, edible food.

Buggy can feel his mouth water, and for once, he cannot blame it on seawater.

They're finally at Baratie.

The finest restaurant in all the East Blue, renowned for its excellent taste and unrivaled quality. Only the richest of the rich get to dine here, and while he's not exactly flowing with berries at the moment, he’s famished.

“Hey, Lips!" he yells out as loud as he can through the shitty bag. "How about you order me some hot dogs once we get a seat? A clown's gotta eat!"

The only sort of response he gets is an elbow to the bag, which incidentally clashes right into his nose. "FUCK!"

"Shut up!"

There's scuttling to be heard, doors opening, and a shitton of gasps echo from all around him. They have an audience, he deduces, and not a particularly receptive one at that. 

Arlong makes a spectacle, something about "serve" and yish and yash about dinner and last meals as they get a seat.

Fuck, what he would give for a meal.

For the first time in what feels like forever, he feels solid ground settle under his neck. Though it's a pleasant reprieve from being thrown back and forth like a yarn ball caught in a cat’s game, he won’t consider it much of an upgrade. He's fucking hungry, damnit!

"Who are you, old man?" Arlong speaks, and Buggy hears uneven steps approach them.

An unfamiliar voice answers. "My name's Zeff, and I own this place."

Right, the Chief. Maybe he can ask him for some crumbs since his captors aren’t exactly on the generous side.

"Well, I'm Arlong, and I own the East Blue."

"No one owns the sea. Not even a fish man."

Ooooh, burn! Suck on that, shitface!

"Listen up!” Arlong exclaims when the chief’s negotiation tactics fail to appease him. “I'm looking for a pirate in a straw hat! Goes by the name of Luffy!"

The saw-nosed motherfucker truly has to be even more extravagant than himself, Buggy admits to himself with no short amount of begrudging compliance. Fishface even goes as far as to threaten the poor diners with having them for dinner instead, by the sounds of it. 

Buggy can appreciate the message it conveys; he’s used it himself, but he refuses to find any common ground with his captor, so he buries the sentiment ten feet down into wherever the hell his body is.

He listens as the diners lose their appetite, all the while Arlong begins to gorge on whatever he has on his plate. For a while, all he can make out is the sound of meat being torn off something and the occasional cry from one of the diners in the distance.

Even from miles and miles away, Buggy can feel his stomach twist painfully due to the lack of food in it. Oh, it’s hell on earth to smell everything you want yet being unable to even grasp it. And here his captors are, toying with him, torturing him with it.

Seriously, fuck them.

He’s about to demand to get something to chew on when Arlong’s other henchman — Kuroobi or some shit like that — beats him to it. "Hey, boss, I'm feeling for a bottle right about now."

Arlong laughs. "Don’t have to tell me. Take what you please. I don’t think that one will mind sharing one of hers.”

“And get one for me too while you’re at it,” Lips supplies.

The henchman cackles and gets up to his feet to retrieve what he’s looking for, but not before lightly kicking the bag that is Buggy’s current prison cell in the side. 

“HEY!”

“Sorry.” He apologizes unapologetically.

Buggy grinds his teeth together and tries to think of something — anything — to keep his mind off his ever-rising hunger. When he gets his body back, he'll take some bottles and shove them right up these fuckers a—

CRASH!

Buggy hears the sound of something breaking from the opposite side of where the fish man just headed. Countless gasps ring through the restaurant’s interior, bouncing on the walls, and he hears the henchman’s painful wails from a distance away.

He’d laugh - he does laugh, because it seems like someone didn’t want to share their precious drinks and decided that full-on attacking one of the fish people was the appropriate kind of response.

It’s impressive, he thinks. Very much so. Oh, he’d pay to see that again, and he’ll have to give that person a fucking kiss, just for making his day a little bit better.

It’s a shame he can’t see the—

"Fucking get lost."

Buggy feels his head freeze in the bag.

He recognizes that voice. The morning sun shone atop the ship deck. Warm. Cold. All of them at once. 

He's finally found you.

---

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Happy Valentine's Day to you all! To celebrate, I'm back with another collaborative Drarry reclist, featuring a new lovely bunch of Drarry writers, artists, reccers, and fans!

Once again, the question was: ‘what one or two fics, or scenes, or quotes, represent peak Drarry romance to you?’ and (in what is rapidly becoming a nightmare for me), no duplicates from previous years were allowed. Thank you so much to everyone who took part, I hope you enjoy the results!

You can find part 1 (2022) here, and part 2 (2023) here!

This year's list features answers from: apricitydays-lazynights, arminaa8, drarrymyheart, drarryspecificrecs, hoko-onchi-writes, jtimu, littlewinnow, mallstars, myrtlefics, oflights, peachydreamxx, pl0tty, rainstormradish, romaine2424, squintclover, starquestingfordrarry, thecouchsofa, thedrarrylibrarian, and themiddleofwonderland!

***

@apricitydays-lazynights

💗who will receive you in love's offices by jtimu (E, 30k)

It was a wonder, Draco thought, watching Potter tip back the last remnants of his drink, that the man had survived to adulthood. Not because of the war, or the constant attempts on his life, or surviving two separate killing curses, despite his insistence that he had at some point died, but because there was not a single ounce of self-preservation in his entire body. There couldn’t be. …He glanced over at the potion on the table, and considered, for a fraction of a moment, getting up and pouring those same drops of veritaserum into his own glass. He looked away just as fast, back at Potter, grinning in his chair like they were queuing up for a Quidditch game and not at all like he had just handed his childhood nemesis the keys to his thoughts. “All right,” he said, “first of all. What the ever loving fuck is wrong with you?

@arminaa8

💗My Beautiful Boy by alexmeg (unrated, 69k, sequel to Alucinatio)

"You don't even like boys."

"I didn't know I did. But you," Harry trails off, laughs with his gaze trying to meet the grey of Draco's eyes, a little tremulous with nerves and fear and the way his breath sticks high in his throat like an ache. Draco does look at him, then. "God, you."

💗Seagulls Cause Storms, or the Essence of Chaos by @writandromance (M, 312k)

The stars above them were bright white. It made him think again of the black universe between the constellations, the way he thought people like him held the space for people like Harry to burn hot.

@drarrymyheart

💗The Rewards of Being Loved by @lou-isfake (E, 161k, sequel to The Ordeal of Being Known)

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to make you stop thinking so hard,” Harry replied, grinning mischievously. He placed Draco’s hand on his bare waist, his own hand on Draco’s shoulder. Draco’s lips twitched in a hesitant grin.

“This song is too fast for you to dance to.”

“Only if I’m thinking about it,” Harry retorted, stepping in close. “Is my kitchen too difficult for you to dance in, your highness?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Potter,” Draco murmured, his grin widening as he pulled Harry flush against him, taking his hand. Harry chuckled, waiting for him to lead.”

💗I Do Not Love You by @writandromance (M, 228k)

“The thing is,” Harry said, voice low like all they’d said was public knowledge and this was the secret. “If you’re interested in this, if we pursue this, I’ll be a goner.”

“A goner?” he echoed.

Harry took a lung-filling breath. “Yeah, Draco,” he sighed. “That’ll be it for me. Tony… well, Tony I ended up happy to see go. Miles, I—that was hard in the moment but I was fine. But you… we’re so connected, our lives are so connected, our friends. I don’t want to fuck around, it would be serious, to me. You’re serious to me.”

@drarryspecificrecs

(cause 'Hogwarts 8th year' & 'creature' are among my fave tropes and I really really adore fics where Draco is in trouble but not weak & Harry is already smitten with him)

💗Draco Malfoy, It's Your Lucky Day by @faith2wood (E, 37k)

💗The Arc of the Pendulum by brummell (E, 30k)

@hoko-onchi-writes

💗Half Sick of Shadows by StarQuesting (E, 40k)

(I have a hard time containing myself about dragon tamer Draco, and everyone knows it. I’m about as subtle as a brick when something pings a sweet spot in my brain. But this fic is so much more than a hot, aloof, sex king dragon tamer Draco who has weaver Harry weak in the knees. It is also so very bright and clear in my mind; the visuals are so affecting, just like the creations that Harry weaves. Favorite scene: Harry casually chatting with dragons. 12/10 would be unhinged again.)

💗A pulled down shade by fast_brother (M, 43k)

(I’m not a big crier over fics. Maybe three or four have made me cry this year. This one made me lose it. I think the thing that stands out to me is the visceral capture of emotion. You can feel Draco’s broken heart, and then you can feel Harry’s. I could probably get worked up about it right now. Favorite scene: Draco crying over the broken tea cup. I literally can’t function when I think about it. 12/10 would cry again.)

💗The Brightest Constellations of Our Souls by thecouchsofa (E, 256k)

(I might be cheating since I’m still savoring The Brightest Constellation of Our Souls but I’m including it because it is Peak Drarry Romance. TheCouchSofa always has this intensely brilliant characterization. Harry is heartbreakingly oblivious. Draco is prickly and about as subtle as a brick over pining for Harry. This also features depression!Harry, which has gotta be one of my favorite Harrys. She writes depressed Harry with such delicacy, handling the ins and outs of mental illness and trauma with care, but also making it fucking funny. Favorite scene so far: Harry very casually slipping into conversation that he’s bisexual after he’s been traveling with Draco for an absurd amount of time without mentioning it. And Draco’s ensuing reaction. 12/10 will continue swooning.)

@jtimu

💗Designate / your love as fate by @elskanellis (E, 17k)

💗Lover, Where Do You Live? by @dodgerkedavra (E, 39k)

💗Seven Days in June by @fourth-rose (E, 47k)

@littlewinnow

💗1000 Kisses: #27 First Thing in the Morning, Just After Moving in Together by @deliciouslystickypersona (E, 3k)

Draco trails his fingertips over the flat plane of Harry’s belly, tracing the line of hair up to where it widens over his pectorals. He nuzzles his nose into the curve of Harry’s shoulder, inhaling the sweet, musky, sleepy scent of his skin.

💗Little Love by @ladderofyears (M, 34k)

Harry – who still held Draco’s hand – was gazing at the baby, spellbound by the sight. His whole appearance couldn’t have been prouder, or more loving, had he been Snidget’s natural father. When Harry caught Draco looking at him, he beamed, unashamed of his response.

@mallstars

💗Elaborate, Correct, and Assiduously Observed by peu_a_peu (T, 4k)

Some things were still the same, he thought. Draco was the perfect height for Harry to put his head on his shoulder and rest. That had been secretly true all along, and they’d only had to figure it out.

💗Us, In Lieu by Tepre (E, 30k)

“I . . .” The words jumble in his mouth. His hair is still mostly wet in his neck. He should’ve shaved. He should’ve cleaned his glasses. He should’ve— “I do want you.” And, “Enough,” he adds, then decides no , decides, “Not just enough. More than. More than that.” He licks his lips. “So much more than that.”

💗The Pure and Simple Truth by @letteredlettered (E, 14k)

Malfoy’s eyelashes were visible just above his cheeks, golden and some might have said they should have been darker, but Harry thought that they were perfect. The curve of Malfoy’s jaw, the slant of Malfoy’s throat, that was perfect, too. Malfoy looked up, licked his lips. “I thought you weren’t interested,” he said.

💗The Isle of Ogygia by @citrusses (E, 13k)

The days pass slower, after Potter leaves. Draco tries to fish again, and manages to actually levitate a fish out of the water, but then he Stuns it and it sinks back beneath the waves like a rock, and he doesn’t have any luck retrieving it again. Every day he walks to the top of the lighthouse, casts the right spells, and walks back down. He looks around his room and thinks about where Potter sat.

@myrtlefics

💗Going Postal by dustmouth (125 page comic)

(I am a complete and utter sucker for Dustmouth’s comics and the correspondence and longing and softness of this one make me really happy)

@oflights

💗Yours is the Earth (Hold On, Hold On) by chickenlivesinpumpkin (E, 127k)

(Chapter 11: it's one of my fave proposals in any fic ever/a beautiful love confession/a lovely romantic moment that fits with how the rest of the fic builds up their relationship and all the poor communication and ways they've hurt each other and love each other)

@peachydreamxx

💗to be a bit of warmth (for you) by @softlystarstruck (M, 9k)

Draco stirs in Harry’s arms, mumbling something soft and incoherent, and Harry whispers a wandless spell to completely dim the room lights. If Draco is just seeking comfort, so what? Harry has more than enough to give– it may be the only thing he has left to give– and Draco grounds him, too. Whatever happened on the other side of a war they both went through no longer matters. They’re here, now, and Draco is cold.So Harry will keep him warm.

@pl0tty

💗Tandem by fast_brother (M, 93k)

The handle clicked and the door cracked open, allowing the sound of rain to come into the car. 

“I… thanks,” Harry said. His heart was beating faster. His hands were sweaty.

Draco didn’t back away completely, just enough to be able to look Harry in the eyes. 

“You have to stop that, Harry. Really," he said gravely, as if speaking about a very serious issue. 

“Stop what?” Harry asked stupidly, still holding his breath. 

“You have to stop looking at me like that.”

Harry’s heart traveled all the way up to his throat. 

“I– I can’t,” he blurted out, feeling himself flush with the enormity of what he’d just said.

Draco let out a shocked chortle. He looked away at the street covered in rain, his left hand still resting on Harry’s chair. When he turned back towards Harry, he wasn’t laughing anymore.

He leaned in and kissed Harry on the lips.

💗Matters of the heart by nerakrose (G, 5k)

Today’s breakfast: eggs, toast, tea. I’ve left the sink a mess this week but I’ll do the dishes later. In a way taking these moments to write to you every morning feels like a little quiet refuge or a secret space that nobody else knows about but you. It feels safe here. I miss you. These days I’m missing you more than I’ve ever missed you before and I can’t explain it. Have I reached a breaking point? I don’t know.

Yours,

Harry

💗More Than That by joosetta (E, 11k)

“He was going to kill you,” Potter said, “He said he was going to kill you.”

“He was never going to kill me,” Draco mumbled, “He was up against you for Merlin’s sake. He tried to play quick-curse with Harry fucking Potter.”

Potter was silent for a bit at that, raising a hand up and stroking the back of Draco's head.

“He thought I would help him,” Potter said finally. Draco felt the strangest thing, like a spasm in his face, that left his eyes hot, and his lips shaking. He had to gather himself together again before he could reply.

“Well, he’s never had me suck his cock, so there was no way he could know,” Draco said, instead of he didn’t realise that you loved me. Potter got it anyway, because he laughed, just a little bit. He drew back, and his face was the most frightening and beautiful thing Draco had ever seen.

“You always talk like you give me blow jobs all the time,” he said. “You almost never give me blow jobs, Draco.”

💗Sparks from the Fox’s Tail by khalulu (T, 17k)

And then it was just natural to turn in his arms so they were face to face. Eye to eye, lip to lip, mouth to mouth. Natural to fall into bed together, hands and mouths moving over warm skin, stroking and kissing til they were breathless.

Harry broke off. “Should we think this through?”

“No,” said Draco. “Why did you pull away in the shower?”

“You were so weak then, I didn’t want to take advantage.”

“I was throwing myself at you with what little strength I had. Next time, catch me.”

“I’ve got you,” Harry said, winding himself around Draco. “I’ve got you.”

@rainstormradish

💗Where I see things right by InnerLilith (E, 15k)

(just... absolutely gorgeous handling of a sensitive subject, and I love how the preparation and thoughtfulness is such a big part of the romance. I don't bookmark InnerLilith's fics so much as intermittently go and reread half their back catalogue again. I've loved everything I've read from them.)

💗Help! I'm a Hopeless Romantic by peachydreamxx (M, 15k)

(we watch Harry fall in love with Draco and come to terms with lots of aspects of his life. The little Google searches are just so sweet and tender and I loved, loved loved it. And the ending is so perfect.)

@romaine2424

💗keep driving by @babooshkart (art)

(The romance portrayed in Keep Driving is palpable. Draco is so cool, but from every look, you can see the adoration she has for Harry. And Harry thrives off of the touches between them but also has a confident sense of her own worth. I will never tire of this calming, soft piece depicting a happy, confident, and joyful Drarry. The world is theirs to explore. They'll keep driving.)

💗Never Mind the Bollocks by @the-sinking-ship (E, 119k)

(Never Mind the Bollocks is a new fic from Erised 2023. I loved every moment of it, and Harry having so much fun and feeling like he belonged was everything. However, his drive to right and save all was still there. Chapter 18 brought it all together. I won't say how as the fic is so new, but, for me, it was so romantic with BAMF Harry showing up and Draco trying to be mad. Complete chef's kiss.)

@squintclover

💗 A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 235k)

(I remember so vividly the falling in love and the moment when it changed for both of them.)

@starquestingfordrarry

💗The Potter Malfoy bathroom war of 2007 by @andithiel (E, 9k)

(it is peak bathing-comfort)

@thecouchsofa

💗Cut From the Sky by mallstars (E, 150k)

(“Rainy romance’ describes this perfectly. I love how Harry grows to love Draco and never stops going after him once he realises that’s what he wants. This kind of love necessitates an endless amount of patience, but I can’t think of anything more romantic than that – someone coming back time and time again and showing you more grace than you would ever show yourself.)

💗Everything is Relative to You by @thehoneybeet (E, 43k)

(Harry and Draco being each other’s Great Loves in every life going back hundreds of years? I am feral. I cannot be contained. A demonstration of them being perfect for each other in every timeline, through good and bad. This is peak romance at its best.)

@thedrarrylibrarian

💗O Come, All Ye Faithful by @toomuchplor (E, 20k)

(Told through jumps between the past and the present, I adore the way toomuchplor depicts the everyday romance of an established relationship. Too often romance is delegated to big displays of affection, when I think much of romance is in the mundane, routine moments. Listening to your partner share about their day is romantic. Making routine breakfast and coffee is romantic. The intimacy of having an ongoing inside joke about a cat name is unbearably romantic to me. These are the small, everyday moments that the foundations of grand romances are built upon, and this fic was a love note to those moments.)

@themiddleofwonderland (amazuppai)

💗Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 16k)

(it's a classic H/D fic that preserves Draco's prickly personality while still showing him reforming in a very realistic way. It's a slow-burn—Harry isn't really in the first half at all, and when he does show up he's still very suspicious of Draco—but as Draco shows his (new) true colors, Harry can't help that his suspicions turn to curiosity (one of my favorite tropes with reformed Draco fics) especially with the somewhat forced proximity they find themselves in that slowly turns into voluntary and frequent proximity. To me, maybe because of the slow burn, it seems like a very realistic depiction of how Draco could reform himself and how Harry can turn his suspicions into curiosity and eventually more to form a healthy relationship together.)

[witchthewriter]

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 𝑫𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟑

⤷ gender neutral, Valyrian blood (dragon rider), and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I kinda personified this group of dragons more than I have with the others...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑

・You're actually apart of the royal family, your siblings already having bonded with either eggs from their crib or great beasts already living

・It felt embarrassing being the only one without a mount. It was true that not everyone in your family were dragonriders, but you didn't want to be anything but a dragonrider.

・You had heard stories of untrained dragons and with great bravery or stupidity, you went to find one

・Sheep Stealer and Grey Ghost have always stayed out of each other's ways. Not knowing what kind of dragon the other is (especially when the other wild dragon was a CANNIBAL)

・So neither Sheepstealer nor Grey Ghost stay in the Dragonpit

・With you, Sheepstealer is a lot more soft. It took time to build up that trust and reliance on one another.

・But once he realised that you weren't going to hurt or leave him, then the bond became one of the deepest ever seen

・When you're dreaming, it's as if you're in Sheep's head. Not controlling him, but seeing things from his eyes.

・And you can feel each other's emotions (like all dragon riders and their dragons) but it feels a lot deeper

・His favourite song would absolutely Sweet Carolina by Lana Del Rey. It would actually make him cry.

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓

・Doesn't like to share food (not that you'd eat his food? Never once have you tried to either. But every time he's eating, he you're near - he frowns and grunts)

・He was just used to being independent and fighting for his food.

・It took a long time for him to warm up to you. Not liking human interactions

・Knows many, many good secret hide outs... you love hiding in them with him. You aren't a people person either

・Once bit a handler... on the butt. It sounds comedic, but there was blood everywhere and holes in the man's buttcheek.

・Your father had to spend a lot of money for the man to be healed.

・(Grey Ghost wasn't chastised, your father too thought it hilarious)

・No one is allowed near Ghost except for you, I'm talking even existing near him.

・He likes his personal space

・Ghost actually got a bit of colour once you spent more time flying. He turned a beautiful silver instead of a dull grey and had a bit of a glimmer to his scales

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐗

・A pyromaniac; likes to hear the command 'Dracarys' (it's the fastest one he responds to)

・Likes hitting you with his tail and when you turn around to look at him, he's obviously looking somewhere else - but his lil dragon laugh gives him away

・But you got used to it and remember to duck everytime your back is towards him

・Is very competitive, especially against Arrax, who is the closest in age to him

・Crushing on Morning; likes her pretty pink scales. You know this because he rolls in anything pink (especially pink flowers)

・Would love country music unironically.

・Gives Dennis the Menace vibes but he is acutely aware of the trouble he causes. Loves chaos.

・Likes to gently bite your shoulder when your attention isn't on him

・IS afraid of cats. Pretends he's not but once when he was a baby dragon, your pet kitten swiped at him and from then on he was terrified...

・Vermax loves being called a "beautiful boy," "handsome man," etc but DO NOT DO IT IN FRONT OF ANYONE, HE WILL GET EMBARRASSED.

𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐗

・Bit shy for a dragon, still courageous and honorable. But prefers to be away from ... everyone

・Does like Tyraxes though; they seem to have similar souls. Some say they could've come from the same clutch of eggs

・Definitely a Libra or Pisces.

・For a long time he was scared of getting into trouble. But you've been working on it ... constantly reminding him he's a goddamn dragon.

・When Arrax is happy, he makes a trilling noise and the red scales/flaps on his neck and head shimmy

・Vermax has made fun of him for it but Moondancer growled at Vermax (therefore he never made fun of him ever again)

・LoVES LAYING HIS HEAD IN YOUR LAP. A very affectionate dragon, loves pets, being brushed down, having his wings gently touched.

・It's safe to say his love language is physical touch

・It took some time for him to be a confident flyer. But once he took off, he never looked back.

𝐓𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐗𝐄𝐒

・A good boi, a very good boi. Does as he's told because his trust in you is unwavering

・When you look into his eyes, they almost seem ... human. They're a beautiful blue/green colour and seem to stare into your very soul

・You realised that at a young age, and swore to treat him exactly how you'd like to be treated

・Has youngest sibling energy (but the kind where the parents have a bunch of older children and for some reason have a baby in their 50s by accident)

・So technically youngest but basically grew up as an only child vibes

・...Loves baths. Like proper baths. You would bathe him as a little dragon. A tradition you and your mother started (because you, yourself hated bathing. So poor Tyraxes was subjected to it as well)

・Now that he's grown ... well ... the blacksmith had heavy pockets and no extra time on his hands for quite a while

・When the bath tub arrived just on the outskirts of the dragonpit, Tyraxes' tail wouldn't stop thumping. He knew exactly what it was for

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

・Aquarius asf

・Always pliant when it comes to be saddled up. Very good girl, you trained her yourself (or you were there for the majority of it)

・From a young age you found yourself talking to her as if she could understand you perfectly well. And now you still do it;

・She gives huffs and chuffs in response, smoke coming out of her nose when she heavily disagrees with something

・Knows about Vermax's crush on her but expects a lot of romantic gestures.

・She's also an Aquarius so they're pretty difficult to shack up with; their independence is highly important to them.

・Like a dog with bad experiences with men, Morning can sense when a person is trustworthy or not

・If they aren't ... SCORCHED. If they are ... UNSCORCHED.

・Literally takes it upon herself to administer justice

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑

・Quite calm in stressful situations

・Definitely more than you - not trying to be shady to you but Moondancer seems to know exactly what to do in like ... every situation?

・Nuzzles you with her nose

・Does adore when you clean her horns, I mean they're PEARLESCENT! (or chrome, however you want to see it)

・Absolutely adores music and will fly you to towns that are having festivals. (She's learned from experience that she can only fly over the top of the crowd and sit from afar...there have been some messy incidents in the past)

・Seems calm but is VERY overprotective of you. Will let you handle arguments until she can feel your heart racing and then she jumps in

・Likes adventure but not dangerous adventure. More so like finding pretty fields or lovely waterfalls.

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

Thoughts on Jason Todd’s choice of weaponry?

:D an ask! Yay!

Oooh, lets see, I'll start with the crowbars because I appear to be like one of three people on the entire planet who actually likes them.

They're a tacky as fuck riff on the fact that Jason's death is central to his character. They overemphasize the manner in which he died, muddy the waters about what part of his death is important to him, and strangely cheapens the manner in which he died through the parody feel of it.

No one seems to really disagree with my analysis here, but I happen to enjoy that about them and think it's very on brand for Jason. What can I say? They're fun!

Best Quality - His Wiggles

This ultra-sharp curved blade used to be his signature character design feature, the way the white streak in his hair is now, and I'm really not sure why it didn't stick!

Best weapon he's ever had, bring it back please!!!!!

The All-Blades

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM...

I have mixed feelings about the All-Blades. Like much of Lobdell's work: phenomenal idea, poor execution. Giving the guy who is most known for being morally grey a set of powers that is exclusively based on moral absolutes sucks shit, I gotta be honest, and the trick he pulled on the blood blade was cool but ultimately does nothing to solve those problems.

HOWEVER

I want to love them so fucking badly. A set of glowy soul blades is a dope sicknasty off the chain concept and I wish the well wasn't poisoned with the moral implications and the restrictions to use them only on the "Untitled", a set of enemies that only exist for Jason so far as I can tell. If someone seriously took Jason down a magic based path that removed the DnD alignment chart bullshit, I would be so game to see them come back! Hell I wouldn't even insist on a better cooler design for them!

...though uh, yeah those are the least interesting magic sword designs I've ever seen tbh

Normal Ass Swords

They're alright I guess. Like, there's nothing in it really, but it's not bad?

Guns - Real Bullets

Excellent, evocative yet simple, straightforwards and to the point. It makes hella sense thematically to boot, love this for him, please give him back his pistols and miniguns and shit

Guns - Rubber Bullets

Hate. HATE. hate ick disgusting bad NO.

I just fucking hate rubber bullets, like, as a concept. I refuse to accept "non-lethal" bullets as a valid use of gun, either in real life or in fiction. Guns are for putting many holes in things very fast!!!! If you're gonna use a gun, fucking well own up to that!!! Do not play this silly ass game of pretending that you can change out the material and do the same things as with lead bullets but with the video game status effect of "non-lethal" applied. YOU ARE GIVING PEOPLE SMALL CIRCULAR BRUISES. This is still harmful, yes, ooph ouchie, but it is not even slightly a good use of a gun, you are wasting holster space, and carry weight, and the physical materials used to make it all!!

JUST USE A FUCKING STICK! YOU DON'T RUN OUT OF STICK AMMO!

My belief in his capacity to take out enemies is shattered the instant those fuckers are on panel. Maybe this ain't entirely rational, or realistic to how fights go with rubber bullets IRL, but I hate them so much on principle that I will ignore any counterargument you might have that they'd work. I will die on this hill. Rubber bullets BAD. Please stop making him use this!!

Bombs

Love it, give him more bombs forever

ka-BOOM!!!!

His Brain

This is actually his best weapon - sorry wiggly knife, you're being shunted down to number 2 on a last minute technicality! I think Jason is at his best when he's outsmarting people and making long term fucked up schemes to ruin people's lives.

He's so good at it! It's so fun to watch him do it!

Genuinely a shame that this facet of him was mostly lost after Flashpoint, though to give credit where it is due, in Rebirth Jason did ruin the Penguin's life in an impressively elaborate way, which I did really enjoy. I want to see him be a tactical deliberate menace to one person in specific again idk, that's part of why I do kinda agree that he works better as an antagonist than a protagonist - which it should be noted does not mean I think he works better as a villain necessarily, his ethics aren't what matter here - he's just had his best moments as the schemer, and it's hard to have a protagonist schemer even when you make them ethically the good guy.

I hope you enjoyed my nattering on about Jason's weapons :D thank ye again for ask!

[kepnerandavery]

Every single day I think more and more about how the Grey's Anatomy writers fortuitously wrote one of the most poetic relationships to ever exist. And it's a travesty that they don't seem to understand that despite unchanged popularity of this ship.

They are two completely contrasting characters with the same brand of edgy just in different fonts, and they match each other's energies like no one does. And what I love the most about them is how it's their flaws, not their strengths, that drives their dynamic.

She's fire and he's air. At first glance, that seems like a recipe for disaster. But it isn't when they are both shielded by each other. She ignites his spirits, and he uplifts her. Without her, he's a calm, cool breeze. But with her, he's a ever-changing current with power and warmth. Without him, she's a fiery spark subdued by the world, but with him, she becomes a intense flame ablaze with passion. And when this current and fire gets out of control, guess what has the ability to contain and ground them by drawing back their catalyst? Each other!!!

April makes Jackson passionate and forces him to dream bigger. It may be mistaken for impulsivity, but she just stops him from taking the safe roads in life and forces him to live life fully on his terms. On the other hand, Jackson grounds her and provides a safe place for her to truly be herself. He's the only person who ever does that for her. Not man. Person! Not even her family provides that space for her. And that is why she becomes independent and sure of herself with his influence.

Some people justify hating them by saying they would be happier with other people. Don't even get me started! Those two would be miserable with other people. April is so spirited that she would be instantly desolate with anyone other than Jackson because she needs someone who can keep up with her and feed into her positivity. Jackson seems so calm on the outside, but in reality, he is often so turbulent that he would be completely bored with anyone else cause he needs someone who can keep him on his toes and anchor him at the same time.

The only reason that they fell apart after losing Samuel was because that grief made them forget that they couldn't be truly happy without the balance they provided each other. April ran towards something passionately without Jackson, and lost her stability and fire, and Jackson wanted to drift away from her and live calmly, but ended up becoming morbid and dispirited without her. You can literally feel how drained and colourless they become without each other.

Their relationship isn't supposed to make perfect sense because the unpredictability of life influence it, but their dynamic certainly does. And that is why those two keep going back to each other. Sure, they would be fine by themselves. But they're at their best with each other. So basically, they mirror each other, and make up for each other's limitations so they could be the happiest version of themselves. They are each other's spark and tether all at once. And that is why Shonda Rhimes will probably never create a more dynamic ship.

[tillthelandslide]

Insufferable Arsehole Part 15: You

A/n: hi everyone! Feels so surreal to say but this is the penultimate chapter of insufferable arsehole *cries*. I love this series so much so please feel free to send in any requests you want to see from these characters. But the main series is nearly over *sobs*. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I love you all so much and thank you for all your support <3. I want to give a massive shout out to @ughgoaway and @justanamesstuff for loving this series as much as I do. Without all of your support (but especially my loving ia stans) this series would've been over a long time ago. I love you guys so much. Hope you enjoy <3

Extra note: I wrote all the little poems in the notebook part of this series. They're all original (whether you think they're shit or you like them) please don't copy them.

Previous Part

Series Masterlist

Matty’s POV

The sofa I'm lying on feels way too comfortable, the warmth of it making it hard for me to get up. It’s soft beneath me and it lures me into closing my eyes.  I have things I need to do, I have people I need to call, meetings I need to attend, friends I need to make sure are okay, set lists to read and adjust. A wonderful and loving girlfriend who I need to show my love for. But lying here, listening to the soft strum of the guitar she's playing has my closed eyes fluttering and my body weighing down on the sofa. I don't fall asleep, I just lie with my eyes closed, letting her voice drift over me - consume me.

I had moments like these, moments where I felt... Numb. But she pulls me out of them, or at least fills my body with something other than numbness, she touches the parts that can't usually be persuaded on days like these. These moments were few and far between with the presence of Lou in my life and somehow it makes this time worse. I feel guilty for feeling this way, for feeling low, for slipping into a dark space. I shouldn’t be feeling like this, I had a wonderful girlfriend, I was finally with the girl meant for me. And I had friends, great friends who were more like family. I had adoring fans and I did what I felt like I was meant to for a living. Life was perfect… So why did I feel so unworthy of it all?

It had started earlier this morning when I had snapped at one of the music techs, I hadn't meant to and I felt guilty as soon as I did it. Her warm hand clamped around my shoulder almost immediately, telling me to go lie down and so I did. I heard her apologise for my actions, explaining that I was 'tired'. I felt thankful she didn't tell the guy the real reason. The guys understood it, maybe even more than Lou, so when she spoke to them before she came back to me, they got it. Jamie had once described me as someone with a huge ego but no self worth, in moments like these, I had to agree. 

The sound of the guitar stops and I hear her set it down, I hear the shuffle of the foot stall, feel a light bump against the side of the sofa, feel her soft hand drifting up my back, up to my neck and then my head, pushing the curls away and making my eyes flutter open.

My heart beat falters, my breath matching it, her beautiful eyes look down at me, soothing me. It was hard to describe them, they were ever changing. I wouldn't say they were green, but they weren't blue or grey either, it was as if those colours alone weren't enough for someone like Lou, they weren't special or unique so whoever created her (I don't believe in God but some greater being had to create a person like her) decided to make a new colour, a combination of all things beautiful. They had hints of grey and specs of yellow and sometimes the sun made them look piercingly blue but the sun could also make them look like emeralds. They were perfect, one look into them and I can feel myself slipping from the dark spaces of my mind. 

"Hi my sweet boy" it surprises me that I don't have to tell her what I need from her in times like these, she just got it. As if she had access to all parts of my brain, able to peek in and see what I needed and having the ability to just give it to me without a shred of hesitation or an ulterior motive. It shouldn’t surprise me, not anymore, not when I knew she was it for me, the only one I ever want to be with, to spend the rest of my life with. The person who was mine and I theirs.

"Hi" I don't recognise the voice that comes from me, a low, deep grumble of a sad man. One that felt like a distant memory, the voice of someone I used to know, not the person I am now.

"I want to show you something" she says and I find myself nodding, she places her black leather notebook in my lap and I find my heart beating three times as hard as I look at it. She had never shown me this before, showing someone this is like showing them your deepest thoughts and emotions, baring your soul to them. I had watched her scribble in it countless times, I had watched as she wrote lyrics that pulled her lips up at the corners, I had watched as she scribbled down angrily, tears falling from her eyes and coating the pages. 

I remember the only time I had come close to reading the lyrics, pinning her down to a hotel bed in some forgotten location, tickling her sides until the book slipped from her fingertips, holding the pages above her head just out of reach as our laughter was all that could be heard. I remember the way she begged me to give it back, of course I would never have read it without her permission. I remember her pleas made me drop the book and bury my face into her neck. She made me forget about the lyrics easily, too wrapped up in her to care about them. 

"Are you sure?" I ask, sitting up slightly so my back is against the armrest of the sofa, pulling the book towards me and playing with the frayed edges. She smiles at me, her hand resting against my jaw, her thumb running over her bone, making my eyes flutter momentarily.

"Sometimes I think you forget how much you mean to people, you forget how much people love you... And not just me, the band and the crew, your family, my family, the fans... Of course I can only speak for myself... So I want you to read this" she speaks, voice soft and delicate. Beautiful.

I want to speak. To tell her I love her. To thank her. I want to smile. To press my lips against hers. But my eyes won't leave the book.

"most of them aren't finished... They're not songs... They're just things I wrote, little poems" she says and I nod, looking up from the book.

"I love you Matty" she says, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to my forehead before leaving me. It takes a while for me to open the book, scared of what I'll find. My shaky hands eventually separate the cover from the first page.

I find a few I recognise, like the one she posted on Instagram, the one I loved:

"I'd stay with you here forever, you with those dark eyes and darker hair, the epitome of beauty, you put Adonis to shame, with the way you paint my brain, with everything that is you, you with those dark eyes and darker hair. The epitome of beauty."

Her handwriting is delicate, cursive and, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. I'm not surprised because everything she does is beauty. She is beauty.

I flick through the pages, little photos taped to the corners or wedged in, the photos make my heart swell. Photos of her and G, one in particular making me smile: a photo of Lou sitting on George's shoulders, looking as if she was scared to fall down, but she's laughing and so is George and his hands are clamped on her thighs that rest around his head ensuring she doesn't fall. A picture of her and Ross, pulling funny faces at each other, they both look younger, Ross’ hair is short and Lou’s is too, I wish I had her like that back then, even now, even still - I regret the time we lost.  I find a picture she took of me, her thighs resting either side of my waist as she takes a photo from above, I feel like a different person than the one smiling up at me. I see another one taken in a photo booth, one where we're kissing, it makes me smile.

I read on, my heart slowly being refilled with love and beauty and kindness and feeling.

I could bask in you for endless days and endless nights. For you are the sun that shines and glistens. For you are the one that warms my once cold heart and bones.

You're the sun in winter, warming up bones and creating smiles. You're rain on a summer's day, soaking the sweat away. You're all things good and kind and lovely. You're love and sex and beauty. You're the definition of passion. Cigarettes and coffee and fresh and home. You're my favourite scent. My favourite sound. My favourite sight. My favourite thought. My favourite feeling. You touch me and I feel you everywhere. Burying into my being. You're mine. My favourite scent. Cigarettes, coffee, fresh, home. My home.

I loved the complexity of some but simply adored the simplicity of others. Reading the ones which don't hide behind metaphors, they're purer somehow.

Pain engraved my brain. Hurt twisted through my mind. Envy soaked through my eyes. You appeared , all those emotions vanished. I began to love the way you loved me. I found myself loving you more. I used to hate you, I hated hating you. I love you now, I love loving you and  I love you loving me.

I smile, a huge smile and I feel it seep through my bones, warming my cold body, feeling finally flooding back in.

Red lips and brown eyes. Black curls and tattooed skin. I'd like to paint in you in my mind so I could have you here forever

The few words are the only ones on this particular page, the rest is filled with pictures of us, a picture of the M necklace I gave her, a picture of my marked neck, her marks. There's a picture of us kissing, ones in which any other circumstance would cause my skin to heat up and my blood to rush south. There’s sweet pictures too, of us in Rome, our hands intertwined, pictures of our tattoos we got together. 

The ropes within unwind under your command. Just say the word and I'll follow you to the ends of the earth.

Matty is sun kissed cheeks on summer days, cherry blossom on withered ground, swirling clouds amongst technicolour skies.

I turn the page and a larger piece of paper falls out, I unfold it carefully, taking my time in reading the words I find on the page:

Dear George,

I’m writing to you from Rome. Seems a bit weird to be writing you a letter knowing I’m going to be seeing you soon. Was feeling nostalgic I guess… Remember the days when we were both on tour and we’d write these big long letters to each other from wherever in the world we were. It was such a pain trying to make sure they were sent to you before you left that city or town. I remember us arguing one day because Jamie had complained about the amount of money he kept having to spend to retrieve the letters when had arrived a little too late. Grumpy sod.

Anyway, you’d usually write about how the tour was going, how Matty had been getting on your nerves. I always wondered whether you just said that to make me feel better for not getting on with your best friend. You’d send me pictures of you with Ross and Hann and I’d send you pictures of me and the girls (usually receiving a text from you or Macdonald after that made me want to hit you around the head - pervs)

Strange how different things seem now. Like now for instance - I'm writing this, by the pool (this place is fucking huge, you and Charli would love it here), Matty’s napping next to me. He’s sleeping with this dopey grin and… I love him George. So much. Please don’t try to cringe too much reading this. His skin isn’t as pale anymore. Shock right? Our pale boy has a tan!

 I want to thank you G. Thank you for everything. You’ve been the best friend I could have ever asked for… but thank you for bringing me him. Matty is everything George. The way he loves me is nothing I have ever felt before. I know now that everything up until now is worth it because now I have him.

I can’t help but wonder how I ever could have hated him. He cares so deeply for every one G… sometimes I wonder if it's too much, if he’s going to get hurt in the end. But that’s okay. Because he has me. And he has you and the boys. And together we love him deeply (still probably half as much as he loves us). I’m going to spend every day of my life proving to him that he is worthy.

So thank you George. He’s the love of my life. He owns my heart, now and forever. 

Your best friend - Lou x

My heart picks up in my chest, I love her, more than anyone I have ever loved in my life. I feel tears fall from my eyes, coating my cheeks. I swipe them away before they have a chance to hit the pages. 

But you... It was different with you

That's my favourite, my fingers find the page and I carefully tear the page out, I fold it gently and tuck it into my pocket.

I stand from the sofa, feeling weightless now, feeling love for her in every fibre of my being. I walk around the venue, trying to find her. I find George who smiles at me widely.

"glad to see you perked up a bit" he says with a hand to my shoulder.

"Where's Lou?" My abruptness takes him back but it doesn't stop him from answering. I appreciate that.

"She's with your mum in the kitchen, they're baking" George clearly sees my shocked face and he chuckles "yeah your mum is here" I hug him tightly before I leave him, heading for the kitchen.

My legs move too quickly for my brain to register but I don't care, I need to find her. My mum spots me before Lou does and she smiles widely.

"Hello Matthew, feeling any better?" She asks, Lou looks up at me as she finishes speaking.

"Explained to your mum that you were feeling a little tired" Lou explains and I nod, smiling at her.

"Much better mum, thank you" I say leaning down to place a peck against her cheek.

Lou's hands are covered in flour and it makes me smile. I squeeze past my mother with a gentle "excuse me" . My hands find Lou's waist and I hitch her up, making her smile.

"Matty put the poor woman down" my mother scolds me but I don't stop. Lou's hands find my shoulders as she feels like she's going to fall.

"I've got flour on your shirt now idiot" she says but she's still smiling. She looks down at me and I see everything in her eyes, every emotion, every indication that she loves me. I love her, god do I love you. 

"I don't care, come here" I say, one hand finding her chin and lightly pulling her towards me.

"Matty, your mum" she says, eyes flicking over my shoulder to my mum who giggles to herself, busying herself with the baking..

"I. Don't. Care" I say with the widest smile I think has ever graced my features.

"What has gotten into you?" She asks, smiling widely. Her eyes sparkle. God she's beautiful.

"I love you Lou, so much, you're everything. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you, if that's okay with you" I say, I hear my mum coo behind us and Lou smiles above me, her legs wrapping around my waist to support herself more.

"Fine with me Healy" she says, leaning down to press her lips against mine finally. The kiss is kept short to save my mother seeing us in a compromising position.

"But you, it was different with you" I repeat her own words back to her and she nods.

"Yeah..." She says and I see her eyes well with tears, I feel myself copying her, placing her back on the floor but moving my head down to kiss her again. I hold her to my side as I turn to my mother.

"I'll leave you both to bake," I say, pressing a firm kiss to her cheek, smiling at my mother. .

"Okay" she says with a smile. I hug my mum tightly before I walk out, but I don't miss my mother's words

"That boy is obsessed with you, I've never ever known him to love someone as much as you" she says.

"Trust me, the same goes for him. I'd do anything for him" Lou's words make me smile and so I continue walking.

I find George again, happy to find him with Hann and Ross.

"Good you're all here" I say, drawing their attention towards me.

"Everything okay mate?" Ross asks and I smile as I nod.

"I need your help"

"Anything," George says.

"I'm going to ask Lou to marry me" they all smile widely at me, I like that. My eyes flick to George’s. He seems expressionless for a second.

“If that’s okay with you” I ask, I see George’s lip quiver slightly and his fingers grip his bottom lip as he nods. I see tears coat his eyes as he steps forward, grabbing my hand in his and pulling me forward into a hug.

“Fuck yeah” I find myself crying too. I feel two more sets of arms wrapping around us. I smile.

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @promocodesorry75 @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk @you-muppet @moodyyyychickx @k4tie75 @insidemymind19 @zzzhealy @maybeiwouldlikeyou @at-her-very-foreign @not-alien-girl-v @sinarainbows @friedlandblog @momentum2023 @youlooklikeshitandyousmellabit @Inhalerbea (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊, those with a line through are the ones i couldn’t tag)

[the5thcellar]

I actually think Luke is serious about A. That age gap is typically what men marry these days. I think he's crazy about her and was taking it slow after a long term break up before going official. That shows intention, planning, and wanting her. I wouldn't be surprised the official IG couple post is coming soon.

I'm just upset that they took it this far with promo. Tom and Z were meeting each other's family outside of work early on, so to say you are officially brining him to meet the fame was a bit much. Closing your eyes when she touches your face? Grade A acting. I hate that it makes me believe he was never attracted to an amazing woman like Nicola. I feel dumb for falling for it all. I hope Nicola finds a handsome guy who will love her proudly.

that's a really interesting take tbh! ive actually never considered he was serious about her in the sense of marrying - but of course this is purely based off the vibes I get and is entirely my own view.

one of the reasons i say this is because luke doesn't seem too inclined to keep a completely friendly distance between himself and nic - i heard that the QC leads india and corey were shipped really hard by fans as well and he had a gf during the whole press run - and towards the end india and corey started posing separately on carpets (i.e. no touching, no friendly hand around shoulder even during photos etc) because they wanted to emphasise that they were really just friends.

luke in contrast seems to have no qualms about blurring lines - and one of the reasons the more rabid fans kept insulting Antonia was a direct result of the fact that he kept stating his "single" status to press. I think he could have helped Antonia avoid a lot of the flak she drew by just stating that he's seeing someone. but maybe he felt it would draw even more attention to his private life and her? idk. i don't want to puzzle over his motivations because I don't believe they are too complex - I've said this many times before and I'll keep saying it - no matter how good a man seems (and I do believe Luke is very good and sweet), trying to justify anything they do is still a sure path to disappointment.

more importantly: please don't feel dumb for falling for the hope that nic and luke could be together! i really don't think they were being deliberately disingenuous - i actually think the opposite - i think they themselves are often confused about what they really are and it's just easier to define it as being great friends. it's strange but i get the feeling that they see each other as a source of potential - it's simultaneously impossible and also the easiest thing in the world for them to envision a reality where they're together - there just seems to be many barriers to it happening for real. they're comfortable living in the liminal space between great friendship and great romantic love - it definitely explains why nic said she doesn't have a relationship in her life that's anything close to what she has with luke. I think there just needs to be a decisive push for them to ever move out of this grey area. it'll have to be something massive for it to ever happen... and it's not something I hold out hope for (again, just to avoid disappointment!)

this got really long; I wish nic and luke all the best and I think they have something very special with each other. I think life has many many stops along the way and I don't think luke has found a final stop in his romantic journey with antonia - they are both very young and they don't have the vibe of "together forever" couples - if they did (since luke is such a big believer in love at first sight) - he'd have laid down a commitment a lot sooner.

again I want to emphasise that this is all MY POV - it's the vibe I get. I'm WELL AWARE I don't know these people irl. There's always criticism of how parasocial fandom and stan behaviour are but I think most fans - myself included - are very conscious of the fact that the way we perceive and interact with celebs is completely one sided. I'm also not a psychic or clairvoyant or anything of the sort. i just strangely feel a lot of things all the time and ive never been chill a day in my life 😂

sending you lots of good feelings and healing - I feel your hurt and unease and disappointment because I feel the same, but it gets easier to accept with each day that passes.