#it has so many panels that it sure will take a while

[lil-grem-draws]

Garreth writing anonymous owls to Ominis based on that one ask-ominis rp blog where an anon is trying to convince Ominis that it's worth getting to know Garreth

[tofixtheshadows]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Hidden | Max Verstappen

WC: 1.5K

Max x wife!reader

Summery: May has always a private person, but is he that private that he could hide his wife of 8 years and 2 year-old son.

Warnings: none

AN: This is a little something, while I’m working on two big fics

Masterlist

Max Verstappen is many things, and when people ask you to describe him they always have a lot to say. He’s a great driver, at the top of his career, he’s aggressive, he’s sarcastic, definitely has an unhealthy relationship with his skinny jeans. He’s also incredibly private, not much is known about him that he doesn’t want to be known, how he does it is a mystery.

You both value your privacy, and any post made of you before he made it to F1 was deleted the second there was a possibility he would join. You were both young, and you knew how much hate some wags get and you didn’t want that. While Max was off racing, you were back home finishing your studies, the moment you finished high school and you were both 18 you got married. A small wedding with only family and very close friends in attendance. Some of your families were against it at first, saying you’re too young, too naive but you never listened to them. Both you and Max knew what you wanted, and there was not stopping you from getting what you wanted.

You finished Uni and when Max moved to Monaco you did too, you met some of the drivers, the ones close to Max, you met some of the team that were also close to him. And you even attended a few races, but no one paid you any attention, thinking you’re just a fan.

However the last time you made it to a race was well over a year and a half ago, you gave birth to your baby boy last winter, and after a hard delivery and a long recovery, where Max stuck by your side through it all. Your boy is almost 2 and he misses Max every time he’s away from home.

”Are you sure this is the right time?” Max asked you as you got yourself ready, Karel happily playing with his toys next to Max on the bed.

“I mean we’ve been married for 8 years now, and dating for three before that.” You point out and finish the last touches to your make-up. “We have a son and I want him to grow up seeing you do what you love to do, I don’t know when you actually want to retire, so let him see you do it before it’s too late.”

You walk over to your husband and sit in front of him with a smile.

”You’re right.” Max leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, that leaves you craving for more, Max pulls back leaving you chasing after his lips. The dutch driver laughs and lets you close the gap, your lips meeting for a bit longer, before you have to pull back or things would escalate.

“Don't forget your ring.”

“Already wearing it.”

Walking in the paddock with your son on your hip and your hand in Max’s turned a few heads for sure. It was the tack of the paddock, Max has a girlfriend and a son? There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the boy you’re holding is anyones’s but Max, he’s a literal mini Max, with the small red bull merch and everything.

”Oh my god! Loca.” Lando said seeing you both, your son wiggles in your arms. He loves Lando who he sees a lot when you’re all in Monaco. Lando is one of the few people who knew about you for so long and he’s seen Karel mere days after he was born. “Come to uncle, Lala.” Karel leans out of your arms and easily goes to Lando’s. “I didn’t know you guys were bringing him today.”

“We weren’t 100% sure.” Max explains and you give him a look. “Okay, I wasn't 100% sure I’d want to bring him.”

”Well, I’m for one glad that you did.” Lando said entertaining your son.

”That makes the two of us.” You say smiling, as Max pulls you closer to his side.

After Max is sure you and Karel are comfortable at RedBull, he goes off to do his round of interviews and media duties. And it's just his luck that, he's on the panel today.

And it didn't take long before he was being questioned about his family.

“Question to Max, you seem happier today, does that possibly have something to do with your ring and those that came with you today?” Max chuckles, he looks at his wedding ring. On the panel today with him, Charles who knows about his family, Lewis who has no idea, Oscar who has no idea and Pierre who has a suspicion but hasn't been confirmed by Charles.

“Eh, if you're talking about this ring, yes. My son is here for the first time, he's finally old enough to come.” Max is smiling but just because his family came means he's suddenly open with the press and will spill everything.

“You have a son?” Lewis asked confused the gossip hadn't reached Mercedes yet.

“I'm not over the ring, you're married?” Pierre asked, Oscar was looking super confused at the RedBull driver, he heard Lando talking about Max and a child and wife but he thought it was the other Max not this Max.

“Karel's here?” Charles asked, smiling.

“Yeah, I have a son, he's almost 2 and I'm married.” Max said as if he didn't Just drop the biggest news in F1 at the moment.

“You knew about it?” Pierre asked his friend feeling left out, Charles looked cheapish and shrugged.

“It was a secret mate.”

After the panel the drivers waited for Max to ask him some more questions.

“When were you married?”

“Did you get married because of the kid?”

“What's his name?”

“Why did you hide them?”

”When can we see him?”

and so on and so forth, Max knew that this would cause quite a stir in the media but he had no idea the other drivers would be interested.

”Okay calm down everyone, let the man speak.” Lando, the latest person to join the circle said. He wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulder. ”Let me answer the oblivious stuff. His name’s Karel, he was born during the winter break of last year, he’s a carbon copy of Max, and yeah, I knew about everything for a few years.”

Lando looked so smug with himself for being in the know.

”And you’re married? Never saw you wearing a ring before.”

“Yeah, got married when we were 18-“

”EIGHTEEN!!” There was a gasps and repetition to the number 18.

”Mate, that’s over 8 years ago.” Pierre said with wide eyes, he’s been Max’s teammate and he was married and he had no idea.

”Yeah, we were dating for 3 years before that, and decided to just do it.” Max explains, he was itching to get back to the garage and see his family. But he had to stand there for a few more minutes to answer all their questions, which he was comfortable with anyways.

You could see a few of the drivers shaking their heads as they dispersed from the circle in disbelief. The gossip and new information was hot, it will be all they can talk about this weekend.

You were out of his driver’s room, and standing beside Max’s car talking with a mechanic as Karel was looking at his dad’s car in fascination. It’s the car he saw every week on the TV.

“Hey.” Max greeted coming in and giving you a quick kiss, he took Karel from your arms and kisses his cheek. “How’s everything?”

”Good, Karel wants to get in the car.” You inform your husband, smiling as your son nodded his head furiously.

”Dada, car.” Karel says cutely and points at his father’s car.

”You can sit baby, don’t think you’ll see anything but you can sit.” Max says and places his child into the cockpit, RedBull cameras snap pictures and take videos.

”Future RedBull champion in the making.” You tease Max and grin, Max had this adoration look on his face. “You should get in and put him on your legs so he can see.”

Max does as you say, he hands you Karel, who you shower with kisses making him giggle and push your face away. Max gets in and you hand him Karel who he places on his lap, the child now able to see out of the car.

”Here Max.” One of the mechanics hand him the steering wheel, and Max puts it in.

”Dada, drive.” Karel says and takes a hold of the steering wheel, Max helps him turn it right and left, it’s. too heavy for him to do it alone. You take out your phone and also film this moment.

If there was ever doubt about bringing Karel, just seeing them making memories and enjoying themselves proves that it’s the right thing to do. There’s no guarantee for how long Max will stay in F1, the motorsport is forever changing and you’ve always wanted Max to make these memories with your son. And if Karel continued showing interest in cars as he does now, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ll be back at karting tracks soon enough, and replete the cycle that you went through with Max with your son.

Max looks at you and smiles, you couldn’t help but lean over and press your lips to his, in a sweet and short kiss.

”It’s good that I can kiss you whenever now.” You comment and wink at Max before you pull back.

“Lucky me.”

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life

[lunahearts]

Soooo I read all of Dungeon Meshi in this past week and I have many thoughts bouncing around in my brain and I think the only thing to do with them is some AGGRESSIVELY CLOSE READING of a scene I wanted to come back to and try to understand better.

So: I want to talk about chapter 28

This entire section of the story is something I feel like I am going to want to come back to a lot, because its such a transitional time and I feel like there are a lot of themes/ideas that I wasn't fully aware of during my first reading, and stuff I missed because of that.

One of the biggest things I have been turning over in my head is... hey, what was UP with the Marcille/Falin bath scene? Maybe it was because I was already primed to pay attention to stuff with them going into the story, or because I had already seen a couple of panels out of context. In any case, it really kind of stuck out to me as being very short but also VERY intense, while also being... hard for me to define? Some part of the nature of the intensity felt like it was going over my head.

I wasn't sure that revisiting it would help with this right away, but to my surprise, it actually WAS a lot easier for me to follow and understand when I went back to it. So I want to just do a close reading of That Scene and some other parts of the chapter & context around it all, because I think it offers insight into Falin & her relationships, and what purpose this chapter serves within the story as a whole.

So first of all, I think it's interesting that the scene starts with Marcille bathing Falin.

It feels very caring in a more platonic, less charged way then what will follow.

Marcille goes from this caretaker mode to joining Falin in the bath, and then of course we get the first of The Panels

(as a small note, I only noticed when revisiting that Marcille is using the rest of her Kelpie soap in the bath. Isn't that just the most heartwrenching little detail. Augh)

Anyway, one of the first things I thought was interesting going back to this is how much it reminded me of the very different sort of intimacy that came just before it - when Laios and Marcille assembled Falin's bones.

This is such a beautiful and intimate sequence, and something about Marcille examining Falin, whole, after the fact... I can't imagine there are not some echoes of those bones in Marcille's mind. The action seems more startling/intense for Falin at first, and maybe part of that is because Marcille has already experienced this level of intimacy with Falin's body in a way Falin herself wasn't a part of.

This panel in particular I think is a summation of the difference in the experience for them. This looks like... near orgasmic for Falin tbh, and Marcille is very focused on the actual like practical part of what she's doing, seemingly completely unaware of the Effect she is having on Falin.

The whole short sequence is focused on this intimacy that Marcille initiated seemingly without fully being aware of what she was actually doing. And once Marcille is satisfied, she is also the one that ends it, sitting back in the bath and moving out of Falin's proximity. All on her own terms, and for her own ends.

HOWEVER... Falin doesn't just let things go.

Instead, she returns Marcille's attention. First, by asking after her wellbeing:

Marcille, of course, deflects (there will be a lot of that in this scene).

But Falin doesn't let it go.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She likes to keep the peace. In this context, and in context of the way that Marcille was the one to come into Falin's space initially, the way that Marcille controlled the initial intimacy... this is striking. I genuinely think that these three panels might convey one of the most assertive actions Falin (as herself) takes in the entire story. One of the only things that outdoes it is the fucking INCITING INCIDENT OF THE WHOLE STORY.

I'd also like to point out here that this action of Falin's also parallels her resurrection by Marcille & Laios. It's is also a forbidden magical action done to save someone(s) she loves, and its something she does TO them, that they are not fully aware/able to react to until its done.

Anyway, back to the bath scene. Falin is taking action here and asserting herself. And how does Marcille react?

She flips out!! She rejects it! She tells Falin that she isn't supposed to be acting like that.

It's a very distancing response from Marcille, and also one that puts her back in that caretaker mode from the start of the scene. She also puts even more distance between herself and Falin by sinking into the water.

Falin doesn't give up though! She continues to assert herself. She's okay, she is allowed to chose to do this.

And Marcille continues to push her away. It looks to me like she only starts to relax a little once she fits Falin into a role she can better define and control. You're a patient, you're recovering, I understand this fact and you don't. Let me take care of you.

But, for a third time, Falin pushes back.

I don't think it’s coincidence that this is where she opens her eyes. She asks directly about the thing that they have both been dancing around:

The resurrection spell. The fact that Falin KNOWS about this, at least in part, recontextualizes the quiet battle for control between the two them. They both know at least some part of the truth. Marcille wants nothing else then to ignore it. Falin wants to be able to talk about it. Marcille's blatant refusal to give her those answers, I think, is what keeps them out of sync - intimate only ever in one direction at a time, never fully together.

And of course, even when directly confronted, Marcille refuses to engage with the truth.

This moment being on the bottom of the page is notable too. There's a beat here. The last panel holds on Falin's face. The reader reaches the bottom of the page, and they are held here for a beat as well, with Falin. It's not quite a rejection yet. What Marcille says isn't directly an answer to Falin's question, but it is a response. A valid one, even! Falin wasn't just asking the question after all, but struggling with guilt that Marcille has every reason to want to reject.

But then you move on the next page, and...

Marcille isn't actually addressing the question at all, not directly. She's deflecting, again. Oh we had a ~difficult time~, there were a lot of "tough situations." Even though she and Falin both know about the resurrection, and Falin has made it clear that she wants to talk about it, Marcille pushes away from the actual topic. She keeps things broad and indirect.

She offers the smallest gesture to Falin - nothing more than a whisper of 'don't worry about it I won't get in trouble' (even though Falin's concern was never just about Marcille getting in trouble).

Marcille then continues to deflect even further, completely changing the subject onto clothes and frog adventures, which seems to distract Falin as well, as she finally gives up on pushing.

And that's where the scene ends! Marcille pushes into Falin's space (without fully realizing), and Falin pushes back. She tries three times to get Marcille to acknowledge her wants, and three times Marcille rejects her, though she does eventually convey some truth. She is honest in her belief that Falin doesn't need to feel guilty, and that things will all work out, even as she continues to deflect the rest of the question. Falin finally accepts that, the topic of conversation changes, and we move on.

But there is a little bit more that happens between them. Towards the end of the chapter, they have this little 'oh no we have to share a bed' situation. Classic stuff.

And Falin seems to realize that the context of this is kinda different now then it was when they were in the magic academy. She's not a kid any more, and they just had those intimate moments in the bath. There's a new tension between them, or one that new at least to the bed sharing of it all.

And in this respect, too Marcille pulls away from what Falin is trying to say. She tries to frame Falin as a kid, tries to insist that nothing is different.

When I first got to this part, it honestly felt... a little uncomfortable? After the bath scene, it is really weird to move into a new intimate situation with Marcille explicitly treating Falin as a kid.

What I have realized in coming back to this scene, though, is how much I think its meant to feel uncomfortable. Throughout the chapter, Marcille's responses to Falin become increasingly patronizing. By letting some of that conflict between them resolve at the end of the first scene, the chapter seems to let things rest, and lets you set it out of your mind.

Then, when the same type of conflict comes back at the end of the chapter, Marcille is even more blatantly treating Falin like a kid, and the unfairness of it hits even stronger. They are both adults, and Falin deserves the truth. After 27 chapters from the perspective of Laios, Marcille, and the others in the group, this progression lets you feel things from Falin's perspective. It's supposed to feel uncomfortable because it IS uncomfortable for Falin, the way no one will quite tell her the truth.

After all, Marcille isn't the only one to do this kind of deflecting when Falin tries to ask about what happened. Laios has a similar response, right down to the 'treating her a bit like a kid' part.

Even more importantly, this final conversation of the chapter reveals one last layer in the knowledge/power imbalance between Falin and the rest of the party: she doesn't actually remember sacrificing herself and teleporting them out.

As I mentioned before, that action was one of the most assertive things we see Falin do in the story, and she doesn't even get to keep that for herself. Instead of being her action, her choice, it becomes yet another thing that the others know more about than her.

I think that's part of why there is such an air of melancholy to this hug they share on the next page

Obviously, obviously, there are so many emotions here for Laios and I don't think its all meant to be viewed as a negative thing, or that he or Marcille are being completely unreasonable. They've been through a lot, and what's more, they think they have time now. So much more time then they actually will have. Time to explain, to open up, to let Falin return to the group in full - as a teammate and not just as someone to be cared for and protected.

But they don't get time. And this relenting by Falin, this "I won't do it again," it's not something that feels triumphant. It's an attempt to comfort them, more a prayer than a promise. As if she is trying to exorcise a spirit. As if she is capable of promising that death won't come, eventually. It's what Laios needs, not what she wants.

That's the real tragedy of the chapter, I think. It's the one time, in the midst of everything, that they have the chance to give Falin what she wants - and they don't do it.

But I do think they realize that, and I think that this failure is a core part of their journey. It's another bittersweet taste to add to the mix - all the missed chances in this chapter to connect, amidst the moments of genuine peace they do get throughout it.

As Laios puts it later...

If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, and perhaps if they hadn't failed her here, they never would have had the adventure that they got to share.

(or, perhaps more tactfully: in life & chapter 28, there are both good times and bad. Thanks, Chilchuk)

[chuluoyi]

heartbreak hotel

- gojo satoru x reader

so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.

genre/warnings: crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend

notes: inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight! this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"He's intolerable!"

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.

When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.

Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.

However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.

Like this time.

"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."

How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.

"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."

"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"

Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?

"Can't I get a refund?"

"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."

You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.

You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.

Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.

"I'm going, duh!"

"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."

"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."

Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”

“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”

He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?

“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”

No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.

And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”

You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”

He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.

“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”

Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL

After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.

You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.

“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”

At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”

The hell?

A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.

Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.

Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.

But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.

He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.

You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.

And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.

He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.

"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"

His eyes twitched.

What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?

He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.

That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.

"Hey Satoru—"

"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."

It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO

Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.

Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.

"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"

She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."

Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.

"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"

Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.

"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.

Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.

"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"

You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."

"He really is miserable, you know..."

"Nah, he doesn't look like it."

Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."

You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.

"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."

And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.

As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."

You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"

"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."

"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."

Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.

Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.

Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.

You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.

And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.

Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.

No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.

But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.

And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.

He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?

No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.

Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.

Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.

Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.

He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.

You are calling him.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.

How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.

You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.

And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.

That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.

"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.

"Y/N? What? What is it?"

"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"

"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"

"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."

"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."

You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.

Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?

"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.

You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."

You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."

Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?

...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.

Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."

There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.

He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.

Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.

Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.

You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?

And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.

"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."

He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.

But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"

He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”

He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.

“…really?”

“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.

“And how will you prove it?”

“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”

It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.

You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”

Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.

“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”

“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.

You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.

Epilogue

“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”

"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."

"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"

Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.

Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"

Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"

[stevie-petey]

pretty girl

“Unfair. I was at least–” he breathes out sharply as you begin to suck lazily just below his jaw. “I was gentle, pretty girl. This just, fuck, this feels like torture.” “Shush and let me kiss you, Stevie.”

Summary: steve has to get his daily kiss quota in somehow, right?

Rating: general, makeout session, cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, slight neck kink if u arent into that, mild makeout session (so so so mild tho) - not proofread, i just kinda wrote so pls ignore typos lmao

Words: 1.1k

Before you swing in: hello ! i was in a bit of a lovey dovey mood, and while i adore writing come home, i simply couldnt bring myself to write more repressed feelings tonight. so, heres a quick lil boyfriend!steve blurb. it isnt at all correlated with come home (although if u squint ... maybe) its just me being so engrossed in my current crush and needing to be severely kissed. rip. anyways, enjoy !

-

Every night, Steve throws rocks outside your window. 

The rocks pang softly against the glass, one after another, as they bounce harmlessly on their endeavor to get your attention. 

Every night, you answer. 

“What ails you tonight, Harrington?” You’ve opened your window now, leaning your head out so that you can see the boy standing below. 

He winks at you. “The usual.”

“Hm,” you rest your elbows against the wooden panel encasing your window. “How many do you need this time?”

“Hard to say, but if I had to guess… A million, honestly.”

You laugh. “A million, huh?”

“Maybe even more.” Steve smiles up at you, admiring how the moonlight frames your pretty face, making it even softer than he ever thought possible. It takes his breath away for a second, knowing how the face staring down at him is the same face that stares up at him whenever morning comes. 

“Give me five minutes, lovely.”

Steve smiles at the nickname, letting it warm his face as well as his bones. “I’ll go warm up the car.”

You wave, blowing the boy a quick kiss, before closing your window to go over to your dresser. The top drawer has long come to contain your nighttime adventure outfits with Steve. A simple pair of sweatpants and his hoodie that you stole years ago but never gave back. 

He knows you have it still, but you know he secretly loves seeing you wear it. 

As soon as you’re ready, slippers and all, you quietly run down your stairs so you don’t disturb your parents and unlock the front door. The lock clicks harshly against the night’s quietness, but with one smooth turn you manage to undo the lock and open the door. 

Steve, true to his word, is waiting in his car with the heat blasting, just the way you like it. 

It’s winter, early January, and school hasn’t quite started back up yet. 

The second you approach the car, Steve gets out and walks to the passenger side so that he can open it before you even touch its handle. You scoff at the overdramatic mannerisms, but blush nonetheless. 

“I can open my own door, Steve.”

He shrugs. “Sure, but you’re beautiful and I love you.”

The words fall freely from his lips, and you intertwine your hand behind his neck and pull his lips flushed against yours. He hums into it, pulls you so that your chests are engulfed together and your legs stumble and enclose around his. It’s messy, your other hand clutches at Steve’s jacket and he relishes in the way your knuckles tighten around him. 

“One down, a million more to go.” Steve whispers against your lips. 

You laugh, throwing your head back and he watches the sight of it all. How your neck lengthens as you laugh, the way your hair cascades behind you and the way your eyes crinkle shut. You put on a whole show for him, and he can’t get enough of it. 

“You really think we can get through a million kisses tonight?” You ask, nudging your nose against the length of Steve’s jaw. 

He shivers. “Got a few ways I think we can manage that.”

You pull away now, though you keep your hand at the nape of his neck. “At least take a girl on a date first.”

“I’m trying, pretty girl.” He gestures toward the car, its engine humming softly. You roll your eyes, but when Steve finally opens the passenger door, you reluctantly let go of him and sit down. “Atta girl, Y/N.”

Before you can huff at him for the nickname, Steve gently closes the door and heads over to his own driver’s side. He opens the door, the warm air escaping a bit, and as soon as Steve is in the car he tugs at your hoodie (his hoodie) and once again you’re kissing. 

It’s longer this time, languid and lingering. He brings a hand up to your cheek and his thumb strokes the high point in a fluid back and forth motion. You lean deeper into him, your own hands coming up to his chest as if you could bring him any closer to you. 

Steve nips at your bottom lip and you let him in, you always let him in. 

You gasp as he sucks on the lip and you feel him smile at your reaction. With one hand still caressing your cheek, his other hand comes up to the base of your neck. It’s warm, he’s always so warm, and his calloused fingers find their usual place, splayed across both sides of your neck. His palm settles just above your collarbones and your breath hitches. 

“Steve…” You exhale his name, as if it were a prayer. 

He pulls away a little, his eyes a molten honey color in the moonlight. “Yes, pretty girl?”

You turn your head and press a kiss against the hand still on your cheek. “Three down, 999,999,997 to go.”

“Make that four,” Steve presses a kiss to your nose, then your cheek, then to the tips of your eyelashes. “Now eight.”

You giggle as he presses another kiss to your temple and then your ear. He’s everywhere, now, peppering kisses on every inch of skin he can find. “And here, and here, and here…”

Steve goes down to your neck now, his nose trailing down the bare skin, making you shiver, and his kisses are so soft. Despite his teasing and the hold he still has on your neck, his lips leave a trail so soft and sanguine against your skin that they burn like whiskey. 

He reaches for your hand now, bringing the length of your arm up to his face, and just before he presses even more kisses against you, you laugh and pull your arm back. Steve starts to whine, unhappy with his kisses being interrupted, but you comb your fingers through his hair. 

“Seems unfair to make you do all the work, lovely.”

Steve’s lips are red and swollen from earlier, they almost distract you from his response. “Shush and let me kiss you.”

He tries to duck his head back down to your neck for more, but you stop him. “Nuh-uh. My turn.”

Before Steve can argue some more, you tug at his jacket, and because you’ve caught him off guard, he falls so far forward that his neck is open for the taking. You press your own kisses against it, connecting the moles that litter his skin with a kiss, and Steve exhales shakily as you do so. 

“Unfair. I was at least–” he breathes out sharply as you begin to suck lazily just below his jaw. “I was gentle, pretty girl. This just, fuck, this feels like torture.”

“Shush and let me kiss you, Stevie.”

Steve’s hand tightens around your neck as the other flies up to your head, pressing you further into his neck as you suck on a spot that he particularly likes. “Yeah… Fuck, okay. Shutting up now.”

-

⌑ writing masterlist

[aenokiawrld]

𝓓𝓲𝓿𝓮 ᯓᡣ𐭩

kiss below the line…

a/n: i hate him but at the same i ain’t mind letting him tap 😋 also using colored panels for now cause it’s cuter tee hee

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

18+ !! MINORS DNI

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

cw: p in v sex, oral sex, afab!reader, reader lowk a top here but sanji gets a tad bit of confidence towards the end, sanji know how to eat that kitty 🙏, reader a FREAK, call this man sanji freaksmoke ong 💀🙏, reader wears a bikini, no set arc, risky public sex, they fuck in a secluded area but still open to public, porn WITH plot

tags ✮⋆˙ smut, afab!reader x sanji, beach date, p in v bby, no set arc - no spoilers

now playing: dive - victoria monét

After a long strenuous journey of hopping from island to island, you suggested the crew stop at a tropical resort for a few days to rest and even gather supplies for the Sunny. Liberating islands from tyrannical rule and going against from oppressive government is tiring…Well guess what? It’s time the Strawhats get a well deserved break!

“Hmm, yea sure,” your rubber captain shrugged.

“Wow, you didn’t really think that through did ya, Luffy?”

“No, you’re right. After a long battle, I’m pretty beat plus…”

“Plus?”

“A seafood boil sounds nice,” he laughed as he rubbed his rumbling belly.

Robin chuckled at Luffy’s expression, “Well, since us devil fruit power users can’t swim in the water, I wouldn’t mind indulging in a nice seafood feast cooked by our skillful chef.”

You suddenly see the pervy chef’s nose start to heave heavily, a few drops of blood trickling down his chin, “OF COURSE, ANYTHING FOR THE BEAUTIFUL LADIES OF OUR SHIP!”

His stance takes a 180 as he faces the men of the crew, “The men have to hunt for their own food.”

Zoro looks at him with annoyance, “Hey! Can I at least get some sake?!”

Luffy pouts, “No fair! I want to relax like the girls too!”

“Well, real men hunt for their own food!”

You sighed, “Sanji, relax, the guys worked hard at the last island. Cut ‘em some slack will ya?”

His demeanor changed as soon as you spoke, “OH MY DEAR, [NAME], YOU ARE SO RIGHT.”

“Alright, fine, since we’re going to have a seafood boil, I gotta gather some ingredients.”

“A spectacular feast created by our lovely cook, my mouth is watering just thinking about it, if I had any saliva…YOHOHOHO!”

“Then, it’s settled! Nami, set course for [insert cool island here]!”

“Right away, captain!” The beautiful tangerine-haired girl yelled back.

————

The summer sun shone upon the golden sand, the crystal blue water crashing upon the shore as the coconut trees swayed to the calming wind. The resort is occupied by many beach goers as children ran along the hot sand with beach balls, men clinked their beers, and ladies were served fancy mojitos. The smell of grilled meat lingered the air as barbecue parties took place nearby.

You reveled in the moment until hearing your captain’s booming voice destroy your peace of mind.

“WOOHOO!”

“LUFFY, DON’T GO IN THE WATER, YOU CAN’T-”

The rubber boy struggled to keep afloat in the water has he gargled for help, “HELP! HELP!”

“swim…” You facepalmed.

“I got it…” The green haired swordsman immediately dived into the water before rescuing your struggling captain.

“Captain, be more careful, will ya?”

He coughed up seawater, “Bleghhh, Zoro, I might throw up on you…”

“LIKE HELL YOU WILL!”

You decided to sit with the girls when the blonde cook approached all of you. He sported black swimtrunks, along with a half-opened tropical shirt while holding a tray full of orange cocktails, “Well, ladies, can I interest ya’ll in some ‘Sex on the Beach’ drinks to quench your thirst?”

The black-haired vixen smiled, “Thanks, Sanji. You really know how to read our minds.”

“Wow, these look refreshing, as expected from our cook!” Nami took a sip of the alcoholic drink.

“No kidding, I was starting to feel a bit parched myself,” you smiled.

Sanji covered his nose to prevent a nose bleed from coming out, “Ladies, Ladies, no need to thank me. Just doing my job.” He smiled to himself as he replayed the compliments in his head.

You looked at him with concern, “Hey, Sanji. How’s ingredient gathering going for ya?”

“Huh? Oh, I’ve been trying to catch some fish and crab for the last 30 minutes but I think the amount of people here are scaring them away.”

“Hmm, hey! I can help you look for a secluded spot for fishing!” You cheerfully suggested to him.

“Oh, I can’t let a lovely lady like you get up and help me out like this!”

You chuckled, “No worries, I’d rather walk around then sit down doing nothing.”

“Well…I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have extra help.”

————

You sealed the bucket full of prawns before setting it aside and sitting down on the dampening sand, “Wow, we caught a lot today! We’re gonna be eating tonight, aren’t we?” You looked at the remaining gold rays of light slowly disappear in beyond the horizon.

He laughed at your amusement, “I should start cooking soon if we’re gonna serve this on time for the crew to start feasting.”

You attempted to carry the heavy bucket of freshly caught prawns, but it proved to be difficult with the sandy environment preventing better movement in your legs.

He noticed your struggle with the filled container, “Need any help?” He walked towards your sinking figure in the moist sand, lantern in hand to illuminate the darkened atmosphere.

“Ah, no, no! It’s ok!”

“Come on, [Name]. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No, really, I can manage-”

“I’ll just grab this part-”

“Sanji! It’s gonna-“

Splash

“…fall,” your once dried figures now soaked with sea water as both of you guys fell backwards into the incoming waves — his trembling body loomed over yours, salty droplets falling onto your face.

The sound of your increasing heart beat pounding in your ears from the closed distances between your bodies. Your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to his toned abs up close to your face, despite the evening darkness sweeping in to mask the dimming sunset.

You were embarrassed to admit it, but you always had a slight interest in the blonde cook. Sure, you were a little annoyed by his flirtatious attempts and his slightly pervy behavior — yet, in his times of seriousness that complimented his cool, stoic character, it was…quite attractive.

The amount of times you caught yourself staring at him as he cooked the crew’s meals with rolled-up sleeves, or chilling on the ship while lighting the butt of his cigarette. You had to resist the urge to bite your lip then and there.

But, seeing him on top of you while half naked and wet took the final slice of the cake.

“O-oh my god, I’m so sorry! I should’ve listened to you-” The blood rushed to his cheeks and ears to form an embarrassed blush before lifting himself off you.

“Hot damn….” You muttered to yourself.

“Uh…what?”

“Um- Uh, nothing,” you shot him a sheepish smile before lifting yourself up. “It’s all good, I should’ve just accepted your help,” you laugh awkwardly as you drag the fallen bucket.

“Ahem, that would’ve been awkward if anyone in the crew saw us,” he brushed his hand through his blonde locks before searching his pockets for his cigarette box.

You suddenly halt your process of dragging the prawn bucket, an invisible lightbulb lighting upon your head. You turn to the chef before smirking at him,“I wouldn’t mind giving them a show.”

You could practically see his eyes bulging out of his sockets at your flirtatious manner. Who knew the pervy cook would get nervous by one of the only girls in the Strawhats? You wanted to take advantage of this sudden burst of confidence…

You walked up to him, his face producing a red hue on his cheeks as he watched your figure close the proximity between you two. His heartbeat increased at the sight of your practically bikini-clad body swaying in the moonlight. He clutched the cigarette between his teeth…

You look up at his flustered face before stealing the lit cigarette from his lips, a seductive tone poisoned your words, “Can we stay here for a bit?”

The nervous cook gulped, “U-Uh um…why?”

He watched as you took a drag out of his own cigarette before putting it out — He never found anything so sexy in his life; not even when he saw a naked Nami back in Alabasta before.

You harshly pushed his toned figure onto the dry sand before noticing the now obvious bulge in his pants. You were quite pleased by the outcome of this situation as you watched the cook fall to his knees for you — he relished in the sight of you using him. It was kind of different from the way you seen him with other girls. Slowly, you hovered over his body; his eyes glued onto your bikini-covered chest as he felt his mouth become dry.

“I think you know the answer, Sanji…”

————

A needy moan escaped from the cook’s mouth as you caught his lips in a sloppy kiss, your tongue ravaging with his as you grinded your clothed heat on his crotch. His body had become so turned-on from your sudden dominant nature, your touches like a tempting devil.

“[Name]…fuck,” his hands moved to your hips as you continued dry humping his erection.

You caught his lower lip between your teeth, “You’re so fucking sexy when you say my name like that, wanna scream it more for me?” You watched his body shutter as you exchanged the movement of your hips with your rubbing over his hardened bulge.

“A-ah shit, mon chérie, quit teasing me…”

You bit your lip as you continued your edge on his clothed cock, ignoring his pleas for your pussy. You relished in the sight of the blonde begging for your attention. You rubbed his erection in a faster pace, grabbing the outline of his size — he groaned at your intense touch.

A sly smirk creeped onto your face as you guided his hand under your skimpy bikini top, his hand instinctively squeezing the soft mound of flesh, brushing over your now hardened nipple. A soft moan left your mouth as you felt his rough hand roll the pearl between his fingers. You slapped his hand away with a smirk on your face.

You slowly shoved two fingers into his mouth, feeling the warmth of his tongue sucking and licking them, “Wanna show me what that mouth can do?”

You remove your bikini bottom, revealing the transparent slick trail of your arousal connecting from your pussy to the dampened cloth. You toss it to the side before hovering your crotch over his flustered face.

You harshly grabbed his face, “Make me cum and maybe I’ll give ya a reward.”

“…Yes, ma’am…”

You cautiously lowered your hips onto his face before you felt strong hands hastily grab your hips and slam you down. A yelp came out of you at the sudden pressure of your crotch rubbing on his face.

The warmness of his tongue desperately overlapping over your needy hole as you bit your lip to conceal the sounds of your impending pleasure. The sound of the crashing salt water colliding with the sand had become quieter as the sun died down and the moonlight became brighter.

The sound of sloppy wetness overtaking your hearing as he fucked his tongue inside you. You face twisting from the overbearing sensation of pleasure took over your body as you grinded your cunt further into his face, the feeling of his nose rubbing against your sensitive clit, the smell of your arousal radiating off your warm body.

He lapped his tongue over your erected bud as sucked you off like a starved man. He groaned as he pulled your hips harder onto his face with need, his grip tightening around you. — He became obsessed with the taste of you and he was wanting more.

He slid his hands over the fleshy mounds of your ass before spreading them apart for better access. The speed of his tongue fastening had jolted the nerves of your body, your back arching from the overstimulation on your abused clit.

“S-Sanji! Oh god, keep going!” You cried out in pleasure. The moist sounds of his mouth connected with your saliva-coated cunt.

“Mmm’ Mon chérie, cum on my face,” he groaned as he swiped his tongue over your pulsating hole.

Your core tightened as you felt your approaching climax form into a pit in your stomach, “Then, you better savor it while you can, Blondie.”

He swore he could’ve felt his cock twitch in his swim trunks at the sound of his nickname slipping from your lips. God, the things you do to him…

You swayed your hips to the movement of his hungry tongue as the muscles of your increasingly tightening before you felt the imaginary coil unravel and relax. Your milky liquid leaking out your pulsating hole, smothering over the cook’s face.

He released the suction of mouth over your erected bud with the sound of a pop. His chin had been covered in his own saliva and your arousal. He huffed and puffed as he caught his breath. The taste of your cum lingered as on his lips as he licked them without shame.

“Good boy, I think it’s time I give you your reward,”you shifted your body off his face, the feeling of the cold grainy sand resting below your knees as you lowered your face over his crotch.

A surprised moan escaped the cook’s tainted lips as you pressed light kissed over his erection, the taste of ocean salt overtaking your taste buds. You could practically feel his wanting cock straining along the restraints of his wet as it ached for your touch.

You grabbed the hem of his trunks, peeling the fabric to reveal his touch-starved cock — it had a slight curve to it, the circumcised tip supporting a swollen redness as it leaked precum, his shaft with a few veins trailing down to his nicely-groomed happy trail of blonde hair surrounding it, his balls desperately awaiting to be emptied from all the edging you did to him.

“Nice cock, dude.”

“Haha, very funny, [Name],” he sarcastically rolled his eyes.

“I’m being serious, Sanji,” you swipe your index finger over the dripping slit of his tip.

A grunt escaped his lips as you flicked his sensitive cock in a teasing manner; Your hand running down his shaft before slowly fisting his cock in your hand. That fucking smug smirk painted on your face that drove him insane the entire time.

Your hand moved up and down faster as you watched his face twist from pleasure, his body jerking from the sudden jolts of electricity running in his body from your touch — You swiped your tongue over the flushed head, savoring the taste of the transparent liquid as you continued your pace on his shaft. A sharp hiss escaped through his teeth as you rubbed and squeezed his sensitive balls in the process; god, he was about to burst then and there.

He gripped the sand below him as you brought him to the edge of his orgasm, you enjoyed the amount of overstimulation you brought to his cute face as his curly brows scrunched together in pleasure. You bit your lip as you felt his cock twitch in your hand before-

“Sanjiiiii! [Name]! Where are you?? I’m hungry!!” You hear Luffy’s voice in the distance.

The cook looked back at you in horror, in fear that both of you guys were about to get caught by your captain. Luckily, you were out of sight from your rubber captain due to the steep rock wall that separated you and Sanji from him. You shot him a devious look as you continued your movement on his needy cock, “Gonna answer?”

Oh, fuck you.

“W-We’re still busy fishing so g-go away!” He yelled back with nervousness.

He bit the inside of his cheek as you engorged his cock into your mouth, the salty taste of his precum filling your taste buds as you slobbered over the tip and shaft.

“Well, hurry up already!!” the hurried tone of your captain’s voice echoing in the distance.

The cook groaned in annoyance, “SH- SHUT UP AND BE PATIENT OR ELSE ITS VEGETARIAN FROM NOW O-ON!!!”

“AGHH FINEEEE…”

A small snort escaped through your nose as you heard their short banter. Sanji was such a cutie patootie when he got mad at the crew you thought to yourself.

That’s probably why you enjoy seeing the cook moaned and whimpered as he submitted to your touch, wanting more of your attention from you. <3

He felt as if he could cum to the vibrations of your gagging alone as you struggled to swallow his cock whole, hitting the gag reflex that sat in the back of your throat. What didn’t help was when you caressed his swollen balls, squeezing them as if they were putty in your hands. They tensed at your touch as they added onto the ongoing stimulation on his messy cock.

He bit his lip while grabbing tufts of your hair as he felt the euphoric climax slowly creep towards his tip as you continued sucking him like a summertime popsicle.

Just when he was about to release his seed, you halted your action; releasing his cock with a pop as it bounced towards his abdomen. His cock twitched with impatience as it awaited more of your stimulation. The tip redder than before as it begged to release its seed.

He huffed, “Mon chérie…wha… what are you doing?”

You hovered over him before whispering in his ear, “I’m gonna ride you, that’s what i’m gonna do.” You bit his ear before aligning yourself over his cock.

You slammed on his cock, causing both of ya’ll to gasp in pleasure as you felt the gumminess of your walls swallow his size. He grabbed the fat of your ass as you bucked your hips up and down.

“Oh god! Oh yes!” You cried out as you felt him match his hip movements with yours.

Your pussy was practically a perfect mold for him as you sought to reach that euphoric feeling of edging to your arrival. You became obsessed with the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix as each thrust became deeper and rougher. You swore you saw a tear well up in his ducts as you watched his face become a moaning mess.

“Hah, oh fuck! K-Keep going at this speed, I might cum inside you…” He squeezed your ass harder as he kissed and sucked the skin on your collar bone.

“S-Sanji- hah!” You felt his lips lick the soft flesh of your chest as he moved his hands towards the underside of the fabric triangles, pushing them upwards to reveal the dark pearls of your cherries.

“Sanji!” You screamed his name as you felt the warm sensation of his tongue lap over your erected nipples. Now you’re the one being a victim to overstimulation.

He groaned as he made out with your right nipple while pinching your left one, the friction leaving you speechless as you were left in a moaning mess. He clenched your the soft mound as he felt your moist walls squeeze around his cock.

“You’ve been teasing me this whole time, I couldn’t help but retaliate…” He left your right boob with purple marks around your now tender nipples. He shifted his attention towards your left boob as he sucked and bit your dark pearl, enough to send electricity towards your pussy.

“Mmm’ you taste so divine, Mon chérie…This is way better than some seafood boil.” He loved the way you clenched on his cock as he sucked your sensitive nipple.

No amount of crashing ocean waves nor the sound of seagulls squawking under the illuminated night sky could muffle out the sounds of sloppy slaps and moans of the heated moment you both shared. You cried out his name in hiccups as he continued the movement of his hips guiding his cock towards your cervix, increasing his speed.

“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji…i’m gonna cum!” You were going dizzy at his hypnotizing movements.

“Fuck, me too…Can I cum on that pretty face of yours, Mon chérie?”

You nodded as you felt that familiar tightening feeling in your abdomen of your impending orgasm had . The thought of releasing on his cock was racing in your mind as you wanted to savor the sensation the next time you had the “urge.”

You gripped his shoulders as you arched your back to the ripping feeling of your toe-curling release, a cry for pleasure escaped your lips as you felt your abused walls clench around him. — thick, white…it poured from your used hole as it coated on his twitching member, waiting to come as well.

He groaned at the sight of his cock being covered in your slick, like a used sex toy. He fisted his cock, your cum serving as lubrication to relieve himself.

He chanted your name in mutters as he took in the sight of your fucked-out face, sporting a tomato red and a trail of saliva dripping down your chin as you huffed and puffed for air. His hand instinctively stroked faster as the aftermath of your face around him even more. He let out a groan as he felt the nerves in his shaft jolt as ropes of hot cum spurt from his reddened tip.

You smirked as you watched the white fluid land on your face along with your hickey-covered chest. You didn’t want to lie when you felt surprised by how much spilled out of him—embarrassing amount continued to drip onto the sand from his now sensitive cock.

You bit your lip, “Didn’t tell me you had that much in ya.”

His face became flushed, “It’s not my fault, I was pent up from how much you edged me today!”

“You’re really hot when you’re hard at work, I couldn’t help seeing you in such a submissive state,” you stuck your tongue at him.

His heart skipped a beat at your embarrassing words, “MY LOVE, I’LL LET YOU DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO ME IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY.”

And…he’s back to his usual self.

The chef’s ears perk up as he hears rustling from the nearby coconut trees. You noticed his reaction before your attention redirected towards the origin of the sound.

“What the hell, where am I?

The mosshead looked towards your direction as he noticed the two figures in the distance, immediately recognizing the both of you.

Both you and Sanjj’s mouth dropped open before you guys scrambled on the sandy floor, readjusting your swimsuits and jumping in the cold salty waters to wash off the evidence. In the back of your mind, you wanted to cry of embarrassment; the thrill of almost getting caught was exhilarating itself. However, getting caught a a different story.

“Go away, moss head! We’re trying to fish in peace over here!” The blonde cook yelled at the swordsman.

Zoro smirked, “You sure this is fishing, cause last time I checked, you’re supposed to have your clothes on.”

Both you and Sanji looked at each other with an embarrassed blush on your face before quickly diverting your faces knowing the opposite direction.

“Zoro, you can’t tell anyone…” You softly pleaded.

The swordsman yawned, “I don’t really care, I was tryna find curly brow since Luffy was getting antsy about the food.”

“Oh and I was wondering where you kept the sake.”

The cook facepalmed himself, “You fucking drunk…it’s in the wine cabinet now go away.”

The swordsman yawned again, “Wow, thanks I guess. I’ll let yall do your thing but hurry up cause the captain looks like he’s about to munch on our emergency food (chopper).”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll get started once [Name] and I bring our shellfish catch back to the ship.”

You sighed in annoyance, “Let’s just get out of here.”

As the three of you walked back, the little devil on your shoulder caused you to land a nice smack on Sanji’s ass. He turned around with surprised look on his face while rubbing the impacted area. You shot a smug smirk at the cook before doing the “p in v” gesture with your fingers.

He smirked before giving you a wink. You quietly giggled before whispering in his ear, “Let’s do this again, but more private.

[fluffyartbl0g]

Redraw of the panels that SHATTERED MY HEART o(；△；)o!!! OG panels + Opinions on the Luffy separation arc under read more

Okay let me just go on a tangent about my feelings about the post-series Luffy separation arc, cause I think it gets way too much hate when it’s such a heartbreaking and well executed deviation from oda’s standard formula!!! I know that we all love monkey d. luffy and he’s LITERALLY the main character of the series, but it was also really nice to get more time to focus on the rest of the crew. But here’s the thing, even when Luffy wasn’t here, he was still here. And I’m not talking about the so called ‘blessings’ or whatever that kept SUSPICIOUSLY popping up around the crew when Luffy disappeared, I’m talking about the consequences that arised from him disappearing. We truly got to see how grand the effect luffy has had on the world around him, and how many lives he was able to touch ; - ; So even though luffy physically wasn’t present (I mean KIND OF but you know what I mean), this was still VERY MUCH a luffy arc imo. 

Oh man but I think Oda wrote luffy’s disappearance so well,,, I was sobbing for like 80 percent of this arc. Like just gradually seeing the crew’s deterioration as time passes by,,, but everyone has such unwavering faith in their captain, he HAS to come back cause Luffy always comes back. But here’s the thing, Luffy didn’t know what was happening to him when he started disappearing. But what he DID know is that he wasn’t sure if he was gonna be able to come back or not. And Luffy hates breaking promises- he’d never make a promise if he didn’t plan to keep it, and he’s not an idiot either, so when he just felt himself disappearing and saw zoro nearby... Instead of saying something like “I’ll be back!” and potentially making his crewmates wait for him forever, he tells zoro to “take care of the crew”... SOBBING AND CRYING T - T. So YES. the crew has unwavering faith in their captain. But. Luffy didnt say that he’d be coming back or anything. So what are they supposed to do really.

And it’s really hard to read at some parts, like it never loses the goofy tone that has been there throughout all of one piece and it’s really sweet to see everyone rely on each other to keep one another afloat, but the slight tension that keeps building up over the months while they keep looking for clues and answers... And how each lead keeps becoming a dead end... When it builds up and Usopp finally voices the thing that’s on everyone’s mind.

Oh man. I started crying so hard. It took 6 month for any one of them to say something. Like this is One piece. Of course Luffy is gonna come back eventually, it would be waay too dark otherwise... But Idk man, even I started to doubt that :((( But luckily. THIS IS ONE PIECE. So right after everyone started,,, well not exactly losing hope or anything (maybe a bit)? but going BATSHIT INSANE FROM THE REALITY THAT THEIR CAPTAIN MIGHT BE GONE FOR GOOD, they finally got a solid actual clue of what might’ve happened to luffy!!! And I’m SO GLADDDD!!!!

Omg and when they tracked down the pray-pray no mi user and finally got some answers out of him. OMG WAIT A MOMENT I REALLY LIKED IS WHEN PRIEST GUY IS LIKE “urerheg without luffy up there as a god the entire world may very well be destroyed cause the sun has been super unstable for centuries blah blah” and then Nami freaking PUMMELED THE GUY AND SHOVED HIM DOWN WITH HER STAFF AND

SOBBING CRYING SOBBING. THEY WOULD POTENTIALLY BLOW UP THE ENTIRE WORLD IF IT MEANT THAT THEIR CAPTAIN WOULDNT HAVE TO BE LONELY ; - ; KILL ME.

URGH I was really hoping that Luffy would return right once they beat him up cause I really really missed my boy, but honestly I think the final method of getting Luffy to return was super clever and absolutely worth the extra 3 weeks of waiting!!! I know that it was foreshadowed across the whole West Blue Saga and everything but I honestly had no clue it would end like that, DONT MAKE FUN OF ME :(((

When the crew finally got their captain back after 8 months of waiting... I mean they’ve been separated before for even longer periods of time, but they always knew that they’d be back together. This time they didn’t know. BUT AREHAHRGE ALL THE PAIN AND SUFFERING WAS SO WORTHIT WHEN THEY ALL FINALLY REUNITED T - T!!!!!! UWAHHWHAHWUAAGGHA!!! AND SEEING ALL THEIR ALLIES AND FRIENDS THEYVE MADE JUST CHEER AND CRY WHEN THEY HEAR THE NEWS!!!! I WOULD CHUCK ALL THE PANELS HERE IF I COULD BUT ID JUS T REACH THE IMAGE LIMIT BECAUSE ALL OF THEM MADE ME CRY ; - ;!!! Literally just read those 5 chapters in the arc finale cause,,,, man so good T - T

Anyways TLDR: The post-series luffy seperation arc is NOT BAD and you guys are JUST COWARDS AND LIARS!!!!

[timeslugarts]

There was only one bed!

Vox x GN!Reader

Or, Vox and you go on a business trip and make a shocking discovery.

A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts for a little while, but I took that quiz that's like "what fanfic trope are you" and my result was the "only one bed" so I wrote a fic for it cuz it sounded fun! So enjoy!

Vox had to make an appearance at a business convention in Greed's ring, and as one of Hell's most prominent business men the owners had begged him to come. They showered him with gifts, gave him exclusive access, the real VIP experience. So he couldn't really say no, plus marketing opportunities were always a bonus.

The itinerary was a fucking mess though. He passed it to you, you grimaced and looked up at him. 

"They've definitely done this before, right? What is it? New owners?" Vox had been booked for back to back panels, making special appearances, a signing event, and even presenting for an award ceremony. It seemed a bit much.

"You know you're coming with me?" Vox perked a brow. A sly grin on his face.

"What? No, who's gonna run the company while you're out? Surely not an intern." You crossed your arms, popping a hip and looking at your boss.

"Oh come on doll," Vox stood up and circled around his desk placing his arm on your shoulder, a claw lazily lifting your chin up so you were face to face with him. "They'll be fine for 3 nights, plus I need my best girl, who else is gonna scare off the weirdos?" He bumped your hip with his own making you stumble. 

"Ugh Vox your so-" you stomped your foot, whipping around to look at him. 

"Handsome? Irresistible? Charming beyond belief?" He grinned walking towards the door out of his office. "Meet me tomorrow early so we can get going," he waved a hand in the air in a lame excuse for a wave, "Oh and don't forget to bring something scandalous for the after party."

You groaned, you could hear Vox chuckling as he made his exit. He was always such a flirt, it was unbelievable. You knew he only did it to fluster you, he would never actually act on anything. He was your boss. Sometimes though, maybe deep down, you wished he would. It was hard denying that your TV faced boss was attractive and after working with him for so many years you had to say his personality appealed to you as well.

But that would never happen.

The next morning the two of you met up, somewhere around 4 to hop into a car that would take you to the Greed Ring. You were both dressed in pj's and ready for the  long car trip, Vox even had a face mask perched atop his head, so he could slip it on immediately and get right back to sleep. Meanwhile you had your headphones with a white noise playlist queued up and blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Needless to say this wasn't either of your first rodeo.

You swiftly packed your bags into the trunk and tucked yourselves into the back seat.

Vox had his neck pillow on and was leaning back in his seat. You slipped out of your shoes, wrapped yourself up in your blanket, and as you were about to pop your headphones in you felt a small tug on your blanket. You looked down to see Vox's hand pulling the edge of your blanket towards himself.

You groaned inwardly. Fine.

You threw some of your blanket on Vox as well and he grinned wrapping his arm around you. His face mask was already over his eyes so his screen just pointed at the roof. 

"You know you could've asked the driver to turn up the heat." You shot at him.

"Yeah, but then we couldn't cuddle." He pulled you even closer. You could only grumble. Eventually you relented, laying your head down on the edge of his little pillow. Thank fuck for the mask, otherwise he would've seen how red your face had become from his obnoxious flirting. 

The two of you were out for the whole rest of the trip. The subtle vibrations from the car as well as Vox made it easy to drift away. 

It was about midday when the two of you finally arrived at the hotel you'd be staying in for the night.

With no time to lose you both shuffled out of the car, through checkout and into the shared bathroom of your space. You had places to be, you needed to be changed and out of there now. Bags left in the hallway of your room, teeth brushed (well yours at least), clothes changed, and you were both out the door in record time. 

The day was LONG. A whirlwind of nonsense, task after task after task. When it was over, the two of you were exhausted. Just shambling back to the room, your shoes were off and in your hands, Vox's tie was undone, neither of you had even said a word to each other in the past hour. 

The two of you walked into your shared space and froze. 

There was only one bed. 

They hadn't expected him to bring an assistant, of course he wouldn't need two beds.

You didn't care, you were too tired to care. You threw your shoes off and flopped face first onto the right side of the bed. 

"Guess I'll take the uh…" Vox's eyes frantically searched around the room, they didn't even have one of those stupid pullout couches, fuck! "...floor."

"What, what are you even saying?" You lifted your head groggily from the pillows. 

"I'll just sleep on the floor…" Vox was staring at the ground, refusing to meet your eye.

"What? No you won't, you'll sleep right here." You pat the side of the bed next. 

His screen ran through a quick series of glitches and left it at a swirling loading bar before popping back to his own face. "I can't just sl-zzt-sleep with you in the samEEee bed! Th-th-th-those idiots, I'll go down and demand another bed from-" you had grabbed his hand.

Mirth glinting in your eyes. Was Vox blushing? Finally the tables have turned. 

"You're saying you don't want to sleep with me Voxxy?" You pouted, his face started glitching again. "All this flirting and when the time comes you can't seal the deal." You shrugged. "Oh well I guess I'll just-" 

"Stop." Vox's face looked serious, a blush still tinting his cheeks. "I'll, I'll just, if it's ok I mean. I…" 

You giggled again, "Vox I'm just teasing, we're both adults here," you patted the bed again, "come on, I don't wanna bother the front desk, and I know you're tired too." 

He stood stock still for a second longer before sighing. Relenting he bent down and began taking his shoes off. When he was sufficiently comfortable he flopped on the bed next to you.

He groaned and you tried not to think about the way the sound traveled down to your belly.

"See? Isn't this much better than bothering the front desk?" You poked his shoulder. When you didn't get a response you poked him again.

"Is this gonna be a problem?" He spoke muffled by the pillow his face was buried in. 

"Hmm maybe." You poked him again. It was late and you'd been up for a LONG time now, you were giggly and slap-happy.

"Alright, that's it." He quickly rolled over and grabbed you, his claws tickling your sides. You squealed. "You're the worst assistant ever! You didn't even get a second bed!" 

"Hey!" You gasped between fits of laughter, "I wasn't in charge of this one!" You grabbed the pillow behind your head and threw it at his face, it bonked lightly off his screen. He froze staring at you in disbelief.

Maybe you had gone too far? 

A grin spread across his face, "oh now you're really gonna get it!" He chuckled darkly. His abuse to your sides got even worse as he started to add small shocks to them. You were laughing so hard you were sure you were gonna get complaints from the neighbors. You desperately tried shoving him off, but he managed to grab both of your hands in his much larger one. Holding them tightly above your head as his free hand continued. 

You were starting to gasp for breath, laughing far too hard, it was hurting. 

"Vox!" You huffed out and he stopped instantly, realizing that maybe he had gone too far. In that moment you both realized the exact position the two of you were in. Vox looming over you, his hand holding both of yours above your head, his other hand resting on your side, close to your waist. You both were panting, heart pounding.

You just stared at each other. 

"I… I um." He removed his hands from you like you had burned him. "Maybe we should go to sleep." 

You didn't say anything. 

He quickly laid back down and turned off the light. Mumbling a quiet goodnight.

You were still unsure of what had just happened. The way he was looking at you, it was almost like…

You peeked over at him, but his screen was already dimmed and he was laying stiffly. You slowly reached over and light as a feather touched his hand with the pads of your fingers. His hand twitched, but didn't pull away, so you continued moving your fingers into his own. Finally he reciprocated and his own fingers delicately wrapped around yours. You watched his whole body visibly relax and you smiled softly to yourself. 

As the night grew dark you both eventually fell asleep hand in hand. 

'Yeah,' you thought to yourself, 'This was much better than bothering the front desk.' 

[lucysarah-c]

There seems to be a bit of debate within the fandom about whether Isayama stated that Erwin is handsome while Levi isn't, or if Erwin was based on Captain America, and so on.

What I'll offer you is my personal take on the matter, as someone who not only happens to be a woman but also, sadly, a woman who likes men (lol) but also as someone with plenty of friends who share that preference.

Let me preface this by saying that I don't intend for this post to be seen as definitive proof or canon, derived from specific panels or interviews. No, this is simply my humble opinion, based on one thing: my perspective as a woman.

Now, if Isayama believes that Erwin resembles Captain America due to his care for his appearance, and thus is deemed more conventionally attractive, that's fine. But let's remember, Isayama is a MAN. When has a man ever accurately grasped what women truly find appealing?

Sure, Erwin may be tall, handsome, and blond. I'll admit, I even find Erwin attractive. But do you know any girls who go wild over that? No, girls aren't going to Marvel movies for Thor or Captain America (well, maybe some are). They're there for Loki, the Winter Soldier. Men seem to think girls thrist over Captain America's abs, when in reality, I've witnessed more girls giggling over Bambi's dad and his deep voice. Girls don't fantasize about Captain America; they're watching Peaky Blinders or Pride and Prejudice, yearning for a Tommy Shelby to size them up, cigarette and whiskey in hand, with that Birmingham accent asking, "Are you a whore? If not, you're in the wrong place." We want Daemon Targaryen beheading someone who dared insult us.

In my own fanfic, I don't deny that characters like Mike, Erwin, Reiner, Zeke, and all the "conventionally attractive guys" are attractive. But Levi? He's known as the strongest thug in the underground, yet he's also the man who rescued a young girl lost in the streets. In a den of violence and depravity, Levi was both tough and compassionate. I'd wager Levi had the bitches making lines.

The perfect example of this is Zeke admitting he's "not popular with girls." It's like the guy who posts a frustrated TikTok because his gym crush is dating someone edgy. He's the type who wonders, "Why that twig and not me?" Well, sweetheart, because that "edgy" guy is caring and probably knows how to make a woman come better than you. He's so secure in his masculinity that he doesn't need to prove it.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Levi embodies the female gaze because he's what girls want. I'm not claiming this as gospel truth or canon. I'm simply explaining why it seems obvious to me that Levi would still be attractive and desired within the walls—just like how many girls these days prefer Cillian Murphy over Chris Hemsworth.

[shooting-love-arrows]

Your aesthetic is just so beautiful dear!! i love how you organize everything, how pretty you write !!

Can i request maybe a yan! mortician? I don't really know the word in english waaa (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)

kisses. mwah mwah take care of yourself ok?? 🎐

Dear Anon,

Thank you, dear. It’s really nice of you to say. Your english is very good so no need to worry. Sending you lots of kisses and thank you for the patience.  P.S I’m reminding myself to drink water regularly :)

@shooting-love-arrows

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍! 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 x reader [gender not mentioned/specified/implied] SYNOPSIS: General headcanons/some concerning habits of his. Tw. yandere walking red flag, creepy yandere, intentional poisoning, delusion, attachment issues (?), nudity but not nsfw. 

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who treats you like a corpse rather than a living, breathing, human being. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 is so used to being surrounded by dead that sometimes he forgets you are in fact alive. It shows during those moments when he starts doing most simple things for you, like dressing you up before you wake up; when you stay still for to long, he’ll carry you around bridal style because he forgets that you can move on your own or forgets to prepare you a portion of food, because corpses don’t eat. Those moments scares you the most, because you’re never sure if he snaps out of it.

“Hm…? Oh dear…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 muttered and tilted his head when he realized he’s been carrying you around the funeral parlor for a while. “It seems like I have done that again.” Not that he was complaining. After all, he’s got to hold you in his arms.

Who regularly poisons you. He adds small doses of the earlier crushed pills he originally brought in the pharmacy to your food. Just enough to make you sick, weak and confused. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 feels his heart squeezing painfully everytime time he sees you in this state but at the same time, he believes that what he's doing is for a good cause. You must stay in the house. It’s not safe in the stress! Not to mention those people who could harm you (or worse, take you away from him!). This just can’t and won’t happen. He’d rather be the one to bring harm to you and nurse you back to health. Your place is here, in your shared house, with him.

“It seems like you are ill again, sweetling. Lay down, you need rest.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 proceeds to tuck you in and kiss your sweaty forehead lovingly. “Let me take care of you, sweetling. I will make everything better.” He whispered into your skin decorated with glistening pearls of sweat, smiling softly. 

Who always has to carry a piece of you on him. He just can’t part with you. Be it before or after you’re officially his. He has a silver locket with a coil of your hair in it, a ribbon that fell out of your outfit tied around his wrist or a photo of you (especially the one he took of you). Those are few examples but anything that belongs to you he’ll gladly take to carry around. This way you can always be with him.

“What beautiful hair you have, sweetling.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 laughed in glee. He was in his funeral parole, staring at the coil of your hair he secretly snipped off when you were asleep. It was placed neatly in a pure silver locker he always carried around his neck. “The prettiest.”

Who has a habit of photographing your nude body. It depends on his mood whether it’ll turn sexual or not, but what doesn’t change is that he’s always in awe of your body. 𝐘𝐚𝐧���𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 saw many naked bodies, more or less beautiful. But you…you are perfect in every way. He feels like it’s his obligation to document that beauty. So usually, you’ll find yourself lying in the coffin panelled with silk, naked as the day you were born. And so the photo session continues. And when he’s done…? 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 will lean over you, looming like a grim reaper ready to whisk you away into the underworld, and whisper sweet nothings, prizes and compliments to you while his eyes admire every inch of your body.

“Keep still, sweetling.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 adjusted his trusty camera so it’ll focus on you.  You kept shivering from the cold that keeps nipping at your skin. Not even the silk you were laying upon helped to ease your worries and shame for you had no choice but to be vulnerable and exposed towards your captor.  “Perfect. Close your eyes and stay in this position.”

Who kisses the spot on your chest where your heart beats. It happens first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. When you’re laying in bed, in your nightclothes, he’ll lower the front of yours and gently place a kiss above your heart. He imagines that it’s his way of pouring his undying love straight into your heart. It always sends a pleasurable shiver down his spine.

“I was born to love you…” kiss “I am breathing for you…” kiss “I am living for you…” kiss 

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Finally reading "Under the Red Hood" for my story, Dick Grayson V Gotham and some notes about what exactly happens here:

Jason's helmet really is a whole ass red circle with eyes, isn't it.

There's constant internal monologue about how much Batman cares about his kids. From Alfred and from Batman.

There's a whole ass woman who I have never seen referenced before called Onyx? Who's apparently the "only other hero allowed in the whole of gotham... other than catwoman".

Bruce recognizing Jason just based on how he fights and plans is beautiful, even if bruce doesn't believe it yet.

Superman's over here flirting with Bruce, going "we could have gotten tickets to the theater if you'd called ahead 😘😘" while bruce is traveling all over the world to figure out if his baby boy might be back from the dead.

Lowkey sad that Jason doesn't have the skunk stripe. I know it was fanon that occasionally became canon, but I still like it.

Wow, this Robin!Jason flashback is really giving us good views of the scaly panties, >:P

So, during the flashback, Bruce brings up the idea that Jason has a "mean streak" in comparison to how Dick was. But it's not that Jason was "mean" and Dick "nice"--Dick has a massive temper, even if canon rarely allows him to acknowledge it--but with Dick... Everytime he was Robin, I think he was still in the mindset of "performer". There was a bit more disconnect between him and the criminals of Gotham, because the fights were more like acts. Jason performs too, but he's very personal about it. This is his city, he's taking all these crimes personally and even when he's "performing" it's still Jason Todd, while Dick's Robin is more so a mask. IDK, this is just the vibes I'm picking up.

I really love the panels after Jason blows up the meth lab. The way the colors are... it makes Jason almost look like he's teared up? It's beautiful.

Oh great, Slade's here. No wonder this things so damn long

You know what, Slade? I'm on Black Mask's side here. A nazi and a hyena man? You can find better hired help on Craigslist.

Just finished the fight, and I'm STILL on Black Mask's side. Slade, who the fuck are these losers!?

Yes, Jason baby, kill the nazi!

Jason got them Christmas presents! That's sweet!

Slade, why the FUCK were you here? Did you see Nightwing was in town and go "lol, this'll be funny"?

Black Mask really calling himself Daddy around Jason... wasn't a joke. Huh.

There are some very nice parallels after Jason reveals his identity to Bruce. Bruce was too late to stop Joker's bomb, he was too late to stop the bomb in the meth lab. Bruce was too late to stop his son from getting attacked by a supervillain, but Bruce was faster now, good job! And Bruce never killed his son's killer, and he won't kill Stephanie's killer either. It's like he keeps testing Bruce to see if he really has to go through with his plan with the Joker.

Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if Jason's entire beef with Black Mask was because of his part in Stephanie Brown's death.

...I don't really like the idea of Jason calling himself a zombie after Joker did it.

Jason wiped the smile off his face, goddamn! (And don't think I didn't notice how similar Joker and Jason's laughs are, comic artists. Sure, maybe that's just how cackling laughter was drawn back then, but in literature, that smells like foiling).

...THIS is when Bludhaven gets destroyed!? Really???

Also, what is this depiction of Bludhaven just... being across a river? This feels unreasonably close, why hasn't Gotham just eaten Bludhaven at this point?

IT'S A NUKE???

THEY ARE LOOKING DIRECTLY AT IT, HOW ARE THEIR EYES NOT GETTING BURNT OUT OF THEIR HEADS

I'm just realizing how many explosives there are in this series. Between the bombs the Bats use, and the bombs Jason sets up, and... what happened to bludhaven. That, kids, is what we call a theme!

Bruce really is sympathetic in this. It's subtle, which is good, I don't think anyone would have appreciated the author blaring out "BATMAN IS IN THE RIGHT, HE'S THE BEST GUY, FUCK JASON."

And Jason is getting more and more unhinged as the fight progresses.

You know, it's occurring to me that this all could have been prevented if New Jersey had the death penalty. There's no way Joker could have gotten the insanity plea so many times if they could put him in the ground for good.

...I wonder if Batman votes to reinstate the death penalty?

"But why... why on God's earth--??! Is he still alive!!??" Is just... such a good reveal. Such a good line. No wonder we're all so fixated on this character, omg.

Oh. This is why Jason thinks Batman doesn't love him.

It's the lack of reciprocation. Jason sees "killing the Joker after he killed you" as an act of love. Batman cannot provide that act, so Jason sees that refusal as proof he is unloved.

The funniest Joker's ever been:

Oh, the batarang moment. Oh no.

Oh no oh no oh no

I still feel like resurrection via Superboy punching the universe hard is still a cop-out reason why Jason's alive, but the line "Until time decided to set things right." is speaking to me.

Oh god, the buried alive scene is brutal.

Okay, so Jason came back fully sane, he definitely knew what he was doing breaking out of the coffin, but his injuries that were unhealed and getting hit by a fucking car are what caused his catatonic state. He didn't just wake up not all there, that happened because no one was looking out for him.

Okay, so 6 months dead, about a... year in a coma. It says a year for his time catatonic on the streets, then a year with Talia, still catatonic... that's three and a half years, Jason really started being the Red Hood... like what, a few weeks after he got tossed in the Pits?

...I thought the pits were green. They look gold in my version of these comics, is that normal?

EW, WHY'D SHE KISS HIM

Also, there was no brainwashing this boy, Talia literally just said "you remain avenged" and it sent Jason on this whole murder spiral, she didn't do shit

Except kiss him. which, EW

Alright, good night everybody!

[adrift-in-thyme]

Can I hear your thoughts on this panel?

I feel that Hyrule looking at Legend as Four says that is important somehow... What do you think?

Hmmm

Well one thing I’ve noticed in the last couple of updates is Hyrule and Legend have been around each other A LOT

Practically ever since Hyrule finished healing Twilight and helping Four they’ve been hanging around each other. In close proximity too. Which, given that Legend usually only stands close to the people he trusts (principally Sky) is a big deal.

If Dawn pt. 5 is any indication, it seems that Hyrule is mostly initiating this lol

But Legend is letting him

Excuse me while I fangirl over the downfall duo for a moment. ALDNDLSDJSLDNSL THE BROTHERS EVER

Ahem ok let’s continue

Now, I’m overdue for a LU reread so correct me if I’m wrong BUT I seem to recall that they’ve never stayed this close to each other before. Could just be that they take comfort in one another’s presence. Seeing the panel you shared, though, I’m gonna say it’s more than that.

Idk if they’ve figured out their place in the timeline yet (I’m assuming not due to how everyone acted in Timeline Talk pt. 1). That doesn’t mean, however, that they haven’t begun to guess. Jojo has hinted at many interactions that the Links have had offscreen. Plus, Legend and Hyrule met up before they ran into the others. They’ve had time to get to know each other. I guarantee they’ve got suspicions about their places in time.

Which leads me to believe Hyrule is afraid of losing Legend. He must have figured out that Legend was a hero sometime before his journey began. Meaning, somewhere along the way he perished and the darkness he struggled so hard against spread over Hyrule anew. With Twilight just having escaped death (plus the cryptic comments he continues to make regarding Time’s fate), I’m sure untimely demises are on Hyrule’s mind.

I don’t think he knows Legend’s fate (unless there’s something in his games that hints toward the previous hero’s fate). But I believe he wants to. I can’t be the only one who sees the striking similarities between Legend and Time. He likely came to the realization that a guy like Legend will most likely die a wanderer or a warrior (doesn’t mean he did. I don’t like to think he did. One blorbo with a tragic end is enough XD But still). And being a hero and Legend’s friend he’s wondering if maybe, just maybe he can change that.

If it’s possible to know a future occurrence, it could be possible to transform it, right?

All image credits to @linkeduniverse

[aaagustd]

room for two | jjk: prologue

a series from the "Misfit Parents Collection"

⌞banner and dividers by @itaeewon

title: room for two

pairing: heir/retired boxer!jeon jungkook x single mother!reader

genre/rating: angst, slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, ceo!jungkook, divorced!reader, aged up characters (in their mid thirties), surrogacy/pregnancy au; 18+

summary: As you signed the contract, you thought all your problems were solved—and so did he. However, no one can predict what life will throw your way. 

Despite your prejudices, this journey will reveal that the bond you share goes deeper than your womb.

wc: 1.7k

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions a sh*tty parent, character death, borderline inappropriate workplace relationships but nothing has exactly happened, swearing, mentions boxing & knockouts, people either like jungkook or they hate him, let me know if i missed anything 

release date: april 26th, 2024; 10:50pm est

note: the prologue is here !! i hope you all are ready for this ride. it's been a two year journey for me and i'm so happy you all get to join me. we have a lot to cover and so many people to meet. i hope you're ready !!

series masterlist | main masterlist | inbox | join the taglist? | read on ao3

One year ago.

The doors open to reveal the setting sun on the horizon. Shades of orange and red paint the sky as the faint presence of stars patiently awaits the giant orb's departure. 

Jungkook steps out into the crisp evening air without regard for the gusts that violently displace his perfectly styled bangs. 

His urgent steps have nothing to do with the conditions. After a long and exhausting day, he tends to enjoy a nippy pre-spring breeze. 

When he approaches the exit, his energy is almost completely drained. The first step he takes out of the building is like an instant charge, and the wind hitting his face is like a slap that brings him back to reality.

If that isn't enough to wake up his brain, the sharpness of his security personnel's tone will surely have him alert. 

Two men of large stature guide him to his Porsche. He can only imagine the twinkle in his eyes when they land on his baby—resting idly while she waits for him to claim his rightful seat behind the wheel.

Jungkook nearly bypasses his guards as he takes excited strides toward his vehicle. However, a muscular bicep forms a barricade directly in front of the young CEO, reminding him of the dangers of wandering ahead of them in public. 

Only authorized staff are allowed on the premises. Still, even a company as large as Sport's 5 cannot dictate who stands on a public sidewalk. Fortunately, most of the people who choose to spend their time out here are harmless. However, he still understands the importance of safety.

Some people are so desperate they'd do anything to get a picture with the Big 5—a panel Jungkook used to sit on before being offered an executive position. 

Sport's 5 comprises five individuals who have had exceptional professional sports careers. These are mainly retired sportsmen and women who still love the game.

Jungkook was offered a seat at the table before he could properly hang up his gloves. Everyone wanted to know his story, his input and opinions, and his firsthand account of the KO he delivered right to Joey "The Rhino" Reese.

Although it was the best highlight of his career, he's never publicly spoken on that night out of respect for the legend and his family. It'd be pointless to keep retelling the events when they're online for everyone to see. 

Despite keeping his mouth shut about the fall of an icon, he still receives his share of hate from the boxer's diehard fans.

"Coward!"

He hears a man shouting insults from across the street, but most of his words are inaudible due to the distance. It can't be anything good because a family walking by promptly covers their child's ears every time the man opens his mouth.

Like on any other occasion, Jungkook shrugs off the spew of hate and gets into his car, wishing security a safe night. The engine roars as he pushes start. The sound of purring grasps one of the men's attention, and he turns around with a point, a silent compliment that Jungkook accepts with a nod as he speeds away.

With only headlights in his rearview mirror, Jungkook zooms through the city—wondering where his journey will take him. After the day he's had, home seems like a great option, but he isn't in the mood to spend a weeknight surrounded by silence in a large penthouse.

So, he drives downtown, aiming for any bar without a crowd. That shouldn't be too hard. Most people have work tomorrow, and they aren't in the mood for a party, and neither is he. 

A distraction is all he needs to ease his restless mind.

He reaches the heart of the city and parks near the curb. Heads turn as he exits his vehicle, wondering who he could be. With his shades on and natural hair color, it's hard for people to recognize his identity these days. 

Still, everyone is captivated by the car he steps out of. They could care less about his appearance. The real attention grabbers are the wealth that oozes from his body and his Porsche. Without money, he's just another guy.

Jungkook adjusts his suit as he scopes out the area. He notices the establishment across from him has upbeat music blasting through the speakers. Judging by the people lined up, waiting to get in—it's more of a nightclub than a lounge.

He sighs as he eliminates one place after another, eventually deciding to walk the strip and see what it offers. 

He nearly misses it as he strolls aimlessly, but tucked in the corner—dark and rustic—is just what he's been searching for.

Somewhere laid back and secluded; just somewhere you go for a drink and maybe a few rounds of pool.

He can count the number of occupants in there on one hand, so before anyone can figure out who he is, he steps inside and removes his glasses. He scans the room and acknowledges those who randomly lock eyes with him.

Jungkook can't help but admire the way this place is set up. The outside doesn't do it any justice; he can't even remember the name on the sign. He'll have to check on his way out; tell some of his colleagues to visit so it can gain some more customers.

He'll have to look into that another time, though. He wants to spend only a little time here, so he makes his way to the bar. 

Two women stand on each side; one is at the register printing someone's bill, and the other is already waiting for him to order.

The greeting he receives is warm and sincere. One you will only find in a few places. He offers a smile, the best he can give, at least.

"Hey. Just a Jack & Coke for me," he replies.

With a slight nod, the bartender begins preparing his drink. 

While Jungkook waits, he starts going through his phone, checking texts he missed while he was up to his neck in paperwork.

Most of them are from associates, his trainer, and…

His assistant?

The number isn't saved because he hasn't used it, but he sees the name in a previous message—letting him know he's speaking with the woman he hired four months ago.

6:54 pm (###) ###-####: Hi! I think I dropped my earring in your car when we grabbed lunch today. Can you check?

He doesn't have to.

Jungkook saw when the earring "fell" between the center console and the passenger seat. It happened right after its owner dropped it there. 

He can't help but laugh at the whole thing. Had he remembered, he would have said something immediately, but he has to admit that the low-cut blouse was a great choice. He can't count how many red lights he almost ran, sneaking glances.

Usually, he has no problem keeping things professional, but with all the flirting and teasing over the last few weeks, the temptation is becoming a bit unbearable. 

Maybe he should take a detour on the way home and return the "lost" item.

7:49 pm Him: I'll look in a few

After he sends the message, his drink is placed before him, and he abandons his phone without hesitation.

"Tab or no?"

"No, love. That's it for me.."

He places a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and pushes it toward the woman behind the counter.

"Keep what's left," he insists.

She takes the cash and walks to the register, leaving him alone to sip his liquor and bob his head to some classic rock.

As soon as the glass touches his lip, he takes a large sip, and regret washes over his entire body.

"What the—"

"Don't drink that," the other bartender whispers sharply.

She rushes over and takes the glass from his hand, instantly replacing it with a new one.

"She's trying, but…"

Jungkook understands entirely. She's still learning. Everyone's been there, even him.

"Don't worry about it," he insists. "Let me grab my wallet—"

She declines.

"It's on me, sweetheart."

Before he can argue, she walks away and disappears with the horrible drink her coworker made.

Despite the little hiccup, Jungkook is glad he found this little gem. It seems like a nice place for a good time, but also somewhere to unwind. There's a bar, a dance floor, a billiards table—and whoever is in charge of the music has great taste.

He'll definitely be back, maybe even tomorrow.

The next sip he takes does exactly what it's supposed to do. "Goddamn it."

The liquor makes his mouth and throat tingle as it travels into his body. He can feel his body relaxing already. Now, all he needs is a shower and—

His phone buzzes in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

Once again, the number is unknown. 

Jungkook intends to ignore it, but his thumb accidentally presses accept. He stares at the screen in disbelief as he hears the faint sound of someone's voice on the other end of the call.

Slowly, he brings it to his ear and acknowledges the caller.

"Hello?"

"Hi, son."

Great, this is just what he needs right now. A call from his father, someone who basically disowned him for chasing the same dream that led to his wealth and success. 

"Yeah, I'm kind of busy. Can I call you back?"

He lies so he can end the call. There isn't a drink here that can give him enough strength to put up with this man. He can't deal with this tonight, and he won't.

"Hold on!" he shouts through the phone, making Jungkook release a defeated sigh. 

He's entirely prepared to hang up in his father's face if he has to, but he'll entertain him for a few more seconds.

"Look, I don't know who pumped your balls up so large that you have the audacity to call me, but—"

"It's your grandfather, Jungkook."

There's a pause.

There is a long, dreadful pause. It's as if Jungkook already knows what he's about to say, and unfortunately, his instinct is right.

"He's dead."

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (3.1)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Sensitive Boy, part I (see previous or series)

Summary: Steve surprises you with help at the perfect time.

Warnings for light smut (I have to split this chapter or it's just suddenly twice as long as the last, but really there's just massage and an implied orgasm in this half. You know me: too many feels and too much development...) MINORS DNI. This series is 18+ only. If you are underage or simply enjoy lighter content, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this post is not for you! WC 3.2k

With so much on your mind, scaring the crap out of you is not difficult, so his strong hands hold you upright.

“Don’t do that,” you shriek, barely glancing at Steve’s face. You startled so suddenly your housekeeping cart is left rolling away at a snail’s pace.

“Sorry, I—“ long arms abandon you and reach to stop the bin “—it said on your website you were closed for renovations, and…”

You look him up and down. You were sure after he left two months ago that you’d never see him again. You’d gone too far. You’d pushed him too hard. He wasn’t ready.

Steve adjusts the strap over his shoulder. “I thought maybe I could help out…if you want?”

The last guests checked out a half-hour ago, and you readied to spend the whole week meticulously refreshing each room with your parents. The list of what needs done, however, doesn’t only include the motel. There’s a bunch you all had let slide up at the house. Help would…be extremely helpful actually.

Steve pulls a paper bag out of his knapsack. “Or I brought you some lunch if you just want a break or something.”

“It’s okay,” you rush out. “More than okay. Thank you, yes. We’d love—I’d love that.”

No one else can know it’s him-him there though. You’ll have to think of a way to keep your parents and St-‘Grant’ as far apart as possible, and how long you can manage that is…questionable.

If Steve’s not worried though, you’re okay.

Turns out, keeping your family up at the house is easy. Your mom shouts down the phone with relief that she can tackle the fridge, and you hear your dad mumble something about ‘the garage in daylight.’ You can enjoy a sandwich in the office with Steve in peace, explaining what all needs done before the electricians show up Friday afternoon.

The closure hasn’t been planned for a long time—not even before Steve and ‘Tom’s’ last visit—hence why you just painted Room 8, 5, 2, and 1 since March, but doing all those is how you and your parents really noticed that the light fixtures from the ‘90s were not only dated but very worn and that the same color layered over and over again for twenty years was, well, getting old.

Warmer months are better for the work. Pipes won’t freeze while you air out paint fumes, etc. The week after the gigantic, city festivities of Independence Day is notoriously dead. Since there were no reservations this stretch as of April, the family jumped at the chance to fix it all in one big, daunting go.

Saying you’d looked forward to this is a wild overstatement. You’ll be glad when it’s finished, and that’s the bulk of your excitement.

With his assistance though? Hope soars.

Steve will help you take down the sconces, the hanging lamps, and the panels above the vanities, then you both can—

“Where’s the paint?”

He’s very intense with the gameplan. Three guesses why.

“Dad’s gonna pick it up today. Probably. I’ll text him.” You whip out your cell again. “We didn’t think we’d get that far by evening.”

Steve nods.

“We also need to move all the furniture away from the walls and drape plastic to protect the carpet. Oh, and put tape along the trim and doorframes, ya know.”

Steve nods again. He wads up the wrapping from his sandwich and casually asks, “are all the doors open?”

You only just get your finger in the air to point at the desk.

“Master key is—“

But Steve is observant and has clocked everything about his surroundings each time he’s stayed, apparently. He stretches over to the wall beyond the counter, snatches the (correct) unmarked key, and heads out the door.

The service bell rings gently to emphasize the conversation is over.

All furniture in every room is pulled away by the time you finish sanitizing the one guest room he interrupted.

He asks where you keep the ladder, not that he’ll need it, but you will for reaching some of the lights.

You don’t know whether to be in awe of or exhausted by his efficiency.

He’s rigid and militant—go figure—until these few moments he suddenly can’t be.

As you toss plastic over the last bed to move, Steve yanks that sucker across the floor so fast, you roll off. His eyes are saucers as he apologizes, but you get the giggles and pick yourself up.

His fingers can’t separate thin layers of the plastic at one point, and he throws a minor fit until three rip apart together. Steve frowns at you and grumbles that he’s only ever used cloth for this before. It seems to take everything in his power not to say “back in my day,” but you can read between the lines.

Years of crusted paint makes the removal of some fixtures tricky.

Steve rips out one stripped screw with needle nose pliers, squeaks in alarm at the hole left behind, and then quietly asks if you have patch paste.

You call your dad before he’s left to buy paint. He adds spackling to the list.

The closest Steve comes to telling you anything specifically about himself is when you struggle with a stuck bolt.

“Just a little trick I learned when I was—“ Steve wraps his big hand around yours to pull the wrench instead of push from the other direction “—smaller.” He huffs out a laugh, adding, “when I couldn’t, ya know, ‘put my weight into it’ because a feather could’a knocked me over.”

As you relish the simple contact of his fingers, you smile, too.

“Hmm. I heard you got into back alley scrapes.”

“If you heard that I won any of those, you were lied to.” He patiently waits for you to finish removing the bolt before he pries the aged metal and glass away from the old paint it’s stuck in. Steve sighs dramatically.

“Shoddy education these days…”

“I…” You tap his bicep with the claws of the wrench. “I can’t argue with that. We hear only what they tell us about…heroes.”

You should have known he’d shut down at that word, but it’s the truth. Even with him right in front of you, the only things you know about Steve Rogers are from books, newspapers, and the internet. At face value—looking directly into the face of this man—all of what you’ve been told is hogwash. It’s insufficient. It barely covers 1% of who this man is.

He teaches you tricks of the weak man’s trade because it helped him once, too. Today, he’s friendly. Not that he was unfriendly before, but Steve is so reserved he never reference the past, in general, i.e. that there was a past existence of like the planet much less him.

It’s the number one rule of Fight Club: you don’t talk about Fight Club.

If there was ever a real fight club, it’s the Avengers.

You have no official rules for what this is between you. You don’t have to to know that is the most important one. You do not talk about Fight Club. Steve isn’t afraid of silence, that much is clear, but he isn’t a fan. He tries—he is trying—to connect and relate. He can’t be a man of the people, however, if he can’t talk to the people. 

It’s important: connection. You know with every fiber of your being that Steve deserves it, but even with unlimited, super-human strength, he cannot get himself out from between this rock and that hard place.

You do not talk about Fight Club, especially when you’ve been kicked out of Fight Club.

Today, though, he’s a little different, a little softer. Perhaps it’s knowing there are no other people in the building, perhaps he is truly more comfortable with you, but either way, Steve is not flat or off-putting.

His organized persona, his focus on the work, his indirect interactions and practical touch; they all fit here while he has a project. It’s the closest he can be to his old self, maybe even his real self, without mentioning the past—the fighting past—at all.

“You’re really good company,” you tell Steve, “even when you make holes in the walls.”

He tilts his head down and blushes. He shrugs as he takes the sconce out to the dumpster. Although he didn’t say it, you hope this is okay.

Either way, you relish it. The help. The touch. The silence. All of it.

You relish Steve.

Your dad brings by the paint, spackling, and a surprise of pizza for dinner while Steve is taping the baseboards in a corner. You introduce ‘Grant’ from afar and haul the cans and boxes from the car to the room, cataloguing all you two have finished to this point and what you’ll do before stopping for the night.

Dad is impressed. He’d suspected the three of you—you, he, and Mom, that is—might settle for slapping some paint up around where the electrician would install the new lights. No one planned on getting this far in one evening.

He won’t stand in the way of progress, so your dad simply calls out, “bit of an artist, are ya?”

Steve looks up, confident with only the side table lamps plugged in, he can barely be seen. “Just want to be useful,” he mutters.

You wink at your dad as he heads back to the still-running car. “Grant is a jack of all trades.”

You’re sure to thank him for the food and let him know all the motel stuff is completely covered for tomorrow, too. You’ll work as late as you can and start as early as possible.

Dad says your friend has gone ‘above and beyond.’ You agree wholeheartedly.

‘Grant’ would more aptly be described as a machine.

All the furniture moved, all the lights taken down, all bordering taped, and now all blemishes in the walls smoothed, your impromptu contractor finally calls it quits when he’s forced to watch stuff dry.

You’ve kept the air conditioning going in one room.

Steve tentatively asks if he should walk you up to the house, but you counter with “it’s not any less dangerous for an average guy alone to return” and a cheeky smirk. Besides, it is very late. You let Captain OCD keep going; you tapped out a while ago.

He puts his hands on his hips, arms akimbo, thinking of a comeback that never manifests. After giving up, Steve takes his tiny bag into the bathroom and brushes his teeth.

You can faintly hear it over the murmur of the TV.

You aren’t really watching. It’s background noise to your general exhaustion.

With only a side lamp and the screen as light, Steve’s bare feet crumple over the discarded plastic sheet on the floor. He falls into one side of the bed, fully-clothed and (finally) tired.

Though productive, the day has been a distant one, working in different rooms for most of it and tiptoeing around real conversation. You want him to feel appreciated, not pressured, so you ask if he’d like the TV on for a while or would rather quiet.

Steve just grunts with his eyes closed.

Gently, you place a hand on his chest to steady you, leaning to kiss his bearded cheek.

“Thank you, Steve,” you say softly. “Good night.”

He hums when you say his name, and before you can lift your hand away, he captures it under his, holding you in place.

His eyes aren’t open. He can’t see you smile wider.

“Okay.” You tuck yourself into his chest as he raises his other arm out of the way. “Okay.”

Your ear sits in the dip beneath his collarbone, listening to his steady heart, his thumb sweeping back and forth over you knuckles.

He smushes you closer to his side. You toss your leg over his.

You forget to turn off the TV.

He’s sanding the spackled spots by the time you wake, so you rub across his back and dismiss yourself to get breakfast up at the house.

Steve makes no effort to go with, which is fine. You assumed as much.

Your dad calls Grant a ‘magician’ over the pop of oil in the skillet and insists you give your friend whatever he needs to keep working so fast. You are only half-joking when you admit the key is staying out of his way.

Bonus: the exchange reinforces your parents simply leaving the two of you alone down the hill, and you proudly tell Steve that when delivering him an enormous plate of scrambled eggs.

He jumps right back into planning-mode and orders you to roll the first coat of paint onto large areas. He’ll follow, completing the edges and corners.

It’s such a domestic thing to do. There is no one in danger, there are no bodies piling up if he makes a wrong move, and he can go faster or take his sweet time. Steve breaks when he wants or needs to. He sits outside and listens to the birds in the sunshine. No one is around to question him, not even you. You are only there to encourage.

You realize he was looking for a project. He’s used to—and likes—being busy, getting his hands dirty, producing results.

It’s a long, messy day where he becomes more serene in spirit the more intensely he works. You reward him with gentle sweeps of your hand down his arms, pats on his shoulders, and brushes at the small of his back.

Despite the almost constant movement, the day is over before you know it, earlier than yesterday, but it’s too hot to go on.

All the windows stay open to air out the fumes.

Though it won’t stop you from sweating, you both shower off as many splatters and flecks of paint as you can. You insist he goes first so there’s plenty of hot water.

He’s sitting on the bed, shirtless, checking his phone when you come out of the bathroom, but he immediately squirrel the device away in his small bag. Not much to carry around. Not much to leave behind. Steve can’t leave a trace of himself anywhere.

Hunched over and fatigued, he flashes a polite smile your way and blinks heavily.

He deserves the world.

You grab the small bottle of lotion from the countertop and playfully jump onto the bed behind him.

“How about a massage, yeah? You much be aching.”

Honestly, you don’t mean for it to sound sexual, but the phrase comes out downright dirty, making Steve awkwardly chuckle.

“You don’t have to,” he placates.

“Nonsense, I want to. It’ll make the air feel cooler.” That’s as good of an excuse as any. Who cares when the rippled expanse of his back flexes wildly in your touch?

His breathes are audible from the beginning.

You dig at his traps, his leg bouncing as he tries to relax. You use your thumbs, the flats of your hands, and your knuckles.

He shoves his fist in his mouth when he starts to moan, covering the move with a cough, but muffling the noise is abandoned in favor of clasping over his lap. He’s intent on hiding his hardness this time. There’s nothing you can say to truly lessen the sting of needing more. You can’t simply tell him he’s allowed to desire this; you have to ignore his misplaced shame.

But you can take pity on him.

“If you lie flat—“ you step off the bed to give him privacy “—I’ll have more leverage.”

You hear him crawl and adjust on the sheets. “Unlike the torque on a wrench,” you add, just to show you’ve been listening to him.

More lotion is needed for the surface area.

You turn up the TV, feining interest in the late night show so any noise he makes is not as obvious. What the speakers can’t cover, however, is Steve’s involuntary thrusts when you rub the heels of you palms up and down the sides of his spine. If you prop up on your knees, he has more range of motion and doesn’t obviously rock you while mindlessly humping the bed.

His sweats are slung low on his hips, two darts of muscle prominent above his ass.

They are irresistible, the perfect grooves to target and roll into, and he immediately mewls long and deep into the mattress, fingers curling and relaxing while his body seizes.

He hasn’t even finished coming, you think, before he taps at your leg and races to the bathroom.

You hope you didn’t push too far. You hope he’d tell you to stop if he needs more space, more time. Mostly, you hope he knows you’d give him every conceivable pleasure, just because he is him.

The water runs a long time, continuous splashing in the sink, and then nothing.

He didn’t bring much because he doesn’t have much. Your heart sinks, realizing you’ve made him soil one of only two pairs of pants he has here.

He cracks open the door, muttering, but you can’t make out the words.

You turn the volume back down. “What?”

“It pretty hot.” He clears his throat. “Would you mind if I sleep…without…?”

“Naked?” you squeak before composing yourself. “That’s fine. Whatever’s comfortable.”

You shuffle up the bed to click off the lamps. This man isn’t the type to strut around in the nude—yet, anyway—so in the faint and ever-shifting glow of the screen across the room very little can be seen.

‘Little,’ however, can’t describe anything that is visible about the man emerging from the bathroom.

You have to make a point not to stare, but no skit or commercial on the channel promises the same level of entertainment.

Steve slides himself beneath the sheet, sitting near the headboard.

You hold up the remote. “On or off?”

“Off,” he says, “please.”

You’ve certainly done enough for one day. You won’t push your luck, so you hit the power button, toss it on table, and snuggle into your half of the bed, facing away.

“If it’s too hot for any covers, that’s okay, too.”

A rustling interrupts the rhythmic whir of crickets in the night until you feel a warm hand lightly mold to your waist.

This should be encouraged. This should be rewarded.

“Hey, Stevie,” you whisper, waiting for his hum, “happy belated birthday.”

At most you expect a grip of notice, but instead, the big hand snakes across you and hauls you into his chest, his long legs bending to match the crook of yours, his nose and forehead tucked against your occipital.

“We did okay today,” Steve mumbles into your shirt.

You walk your hand over your stomach to find his, lacing the fingers together. “Yes. Yes, we did.”

Steve got to be useful today. He had a partner today. He will tomorrow and the day after, for as long as he stays, for as long as you’re alive. Nothing can change that.

Maybe he can’t talk about Fight Club, but he connects with you anyway.

A/N: Whoopsy. Didn't want to make y'all wait for a 6k+ chapter, so here's the first half! I am DEEP in the feels of this one. So, so many notes have been taken. The brainrot is real, and I fucking love it!!!!

[Next: Sensitive Boy, part II]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

📚inch resting bits from the march twst manga updates📚 (octa, savana, & 4koma!)

***Manga spoilers below the cut (with an emphasis on the Episode of Octavinelle, since that's my favorite dorm!)***

The 4koma manga has dropped! Again, it centers around the daily lives of the NRC boys and is shown in a 4 panel gag comic format.

In the illustration above, we see the main cast with Grim's beloved tuna cans~

This month has comics about Ace going to a supplementary lesson (to learn how to manipulate brooms to do his chores) and Leona attending his art class. The comic depicts Leona, Idia, and Rook in the same art class though we're not sure if this is true in-game yet. However, the comics do carry over the continuity of Ace and Deuce being in Trein's class so maybe the art class thing is also true of Leona?

From the Episode of Savanaclaw manga: I KNOW WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN AWE OF DIASOMANI'S PRESENCE BUT ALL I'M THINKING IS THAT DIASOMNIA HAS A MOB STUDENT WITH A BOWL CUT 😭

I'm also really fixated on how this mangaka draws her lashes and hair, they're always bangers every time 💗

Ruggie "bleh" face... Also???? That full page of him using his UM... and the visualization of the wildebeests racing with him like the people in the crowd, very Lion King.

I like that the manga really shows us more emotional and intense moments the game cannot depict due to its limited assets. Here, we see the aftermath of Ruggie using his UM on the crowd. Even with Azul's magic-enhancement potion, Ruggie has taken a great physical toll from spellcasting. Falling to his knees, panting... This will make it hurt more when Leona almost poofs him to sand later 😭

These panels remind me of like. Scar looking on from up high while the hyenas do his bidding. Ruggie's expression... it's so full of a desperate kind of hope has he gazes up at his "king".

From the Episode of Octavinelle, we get to see Leona post-OB and recovering in the infirmary. Side note, I really love how the mangaka adds these cute little faces to let us know who is speaking in certain text bubbles. The little faces make some of the cutest expressions; just look at that cheeky chibi Leona head!

Here, Ruggie is telling everyone about rumors that Azul and the twins purposefully prevent their clients from fulfilling their end of the contract so they can reap the benefits. I like how the scene shown is a boat tipping over (with the twins implied to have flipped it). Nice callback to the boat scene in The Little Mermaid!

We have another The Little Mermaid reference here, where Floyd shares his UM with the gang?? The hypothetical man here reminds me of Prince Eric, especially in that white shirt and appearing as though he is drowning.

Guys... Azul's been taking modeling lessons from Vil-- I really like these more quiet and contemplative moments of Azul; plenty of those are featured this month.

asdbhlfdbaifyoaiygoeia I WILL NOW ALWAYS ASSOCIATE AZUL THINKING HARD WITH SITTING IN THAT CHAIR... There's so many shots of him seated here...

Yuuta continues to be my favorite manga!Yuu so far by diligently tidying up Leona's messy ass room for him... asfvkyadvfialf Grim looks so goofy helping out, that tower of clothes is half his size...

FLOYD'S FACE IS SO siLLy HERE TOO (this is the scene when Ruggie recalls seeing his eel form during a P.E. class where they swam). The mangaka really decided to summon his gremlin energy here...

Aaaaah, I love this shot; it sort of parallels Azul and Leona... It also makes me realize the difference between how Leona's hair is in Octavinelle vs Savanaclaw (due to the different mangaka). In Octavinelle, his hair is usually a solid black with white highlights but in Savanaclaw there tends to be a subtle gradient/screen tone on Leona's hair.

Anyway, twins Twins TWINS

GOOD WAY TO CLOSE OUT THE OCTA CHAPTER, EXCELLENT WAY TO CLOSE OFF THE OCTA CHAPTER IN FACT 🫶 Can you tell I love the Tweel parts/j