#should i continue posting more of these snippets here??

[whitepeachrum]

Kiss

Fandom: Hetalia (personified) Pairing: Arthur x Kat (EngUkr/UkrEng) Content Length: Chapter (~1500 words)

“You ready yet, my love?” Arthur looked at Kat through the hallway mirror as he fidgeted with his tie. He’d been wearing his ties to work all week and absolutely hated how suffocating he’d felt in them. He would’ve loved to rip the stupid fabric off his neck but decided to hold out for the night. He just knew that Kat would get a big kick out of taking it off his neck later tonight and, honestly, so would he. For that, he was willing to endure his suffering a bit longer. 

“Almost.” Her earrings dangled as her head swiveled to look at him. "Need some help with your tie there?"

“No, it’s fine. I can do it myself. Just keep working on your makeup.” He waved his hand and worked on evening out his askew tie. It was always something that had to be imperfect.

“Alright, I'll do just that,” Kat spoke softly. She returned to gingerly apply her makeup in front of the mirror. Kat looked to confirm that her eyeliner was more or less even on both eyes and carried on to layer her lip products as Arthur continued to play with his tie. He must’ve been nervous about their upcoming date. She smirked to herself, finding it charming that he still got nervous before their dates.

Arthur’s eyes darted to her mirrored image, admiring the way she looked so effortless when she applied her lip balm. It looked so much easier than tying a tie. Just one or two swipes and she was done. He loved the simplicity of it all. He especially loved it when she dispersed the product over her lips and gently smacked them together. It was mesmerizing to watch her lips squish and plump out to their natural elasticity. As she started removing some stray product with the tip of her nails, Arthur snapped out of his sudden trance and looked back at himself.

“Ah, goddamn it,” he muttered. He had been mindlessly undoing his tedious work. Kat glanced at his reflection and turned around to help him with the tie. He sighed and let her take care of the mess he's made for himself. Screw this tie.

“Are your fingers tying themselves into a knot?” Kat chuckled.

“Yeah, seems like it.” Arthur nodded, asserting that his flustered state was wreaking havoc on his digits. Something about the idea of getting dressed and slicking your hair back once in a blue moon made him anxious.

“You smell nice, honey. Did you get a new cologne?”

“I did. I thought I’d switch things up a bit for tonight.” 

She brought her nose to his neck and took a whiff of his cologne. It seemed to smell like bergamot and... lemon? No. Kat checked again. Orange? Grapefruit? Well, whatever it was, she just couldn't get enough of it.

“Oh, it’s so good. Wow..” 

Arthur looked into her sparkly eyes as she leaned back, noticing how big her pupils had become when she looked back at him. He adjusted her bangs so that they weren’t in her eyes when she did. It was like looking into an ocean that beautifully glistened from the setting sun: peaceful and stunning.

“Good. I’ll be sure to wear it more often.” Kat hummed contently in response. She gently pulled him close by the ends of his tie, kissed his lips, and smiled. She was so excited to spend date night with him. Arthur, on the other hand, couldn’t wait to get back home to get more of her kisses.

“You look so handsome tonight,” Kat commented on his attire, patting down his lapels after finishing with his tie. He slid his hands around her waist and kissed her neck. It's a good thing she didn't put any of her makeup there. He just didn't have the heart to ruin her diligent work.

“And you, my dear, look absolutely ravishing.” She gently pushed off of his chest. Kat hoped to get away from his warm hug quickly before either one of them decided to cancel date night altogether, but her actions only made him bring her closer to him. He gave her a firm squeeze and kissed her neck again.

“Arthur,” Kat chuckled at his reaction, “We’re going to be late for dinner!”

“I think they could wait for a few more minutes.”

“Mm. Tempting,” she pecked him back on the lips, “but no. If we want to make it to dinner, I have to finish getting ready.” He looked at his watch to see how much time they had left.

“You’re lucky I love you enough to let you go…” Arthur sighed and gave her butt a gentle, loving pat. She slipped out of his embrace and returned to the mirror to finish up her makeup. After taking a moment to gawk over his wife, he looked at himself in the mirror one last time and groaned.

“Great.” Off-center again. You know what? If Kat couldn’t fix it, chances are this tie was doomed from the start. He moved the tie side to side, gently loosening it. He was fed up with the damn thing.

Kat noted his irritation and decided to distract him from his festering thoughts by including him in her makeup process. She quickly swatched two colors on the back of her hand and turned to face him.

“Which should I go with? Glossy or matte?” Kat showed him two red-colored options. Arthur inspected the swatches and was intrigued that she was going with such a bold color for the evening. The two didn’t vary much in color, but the sheen for one was the polar opposite of the other. He debated which one of these he’d want to be branded with later. Gloss was sticky, but matte was harder to remove… Mm. 

“This is a tough decision, Kat.”

“Well, yeah. That’s why I asked you.”

“Hmm.” He brought her hand up to her lips so he could compare the colors better. The gloss would glide on smoothly, but the matte lipstick would look sharper… “I’m thinking the gloss will be good for tonight. Easier to fix if anything.” 

“Gloss it is.” She applied the product generously without looking in the mirror to save some time. 

“Maybe I should’ve said matte,” Arthur said to himself, second-guessing things.

“How is it? Is it even?” Arthur glanced at the application and nodded.

“Almost perfect.” He picked up a clean tissue and carefully cleaned up anything that stood out. The more he stared at the color, the more he noticed all the different little specks of gold and silver glitter that made her lips look even juicer than before. If they weren’t late, he would’ve loved to take a bite or two.

Arthur subconsciously smacked his lips together in thought and Kat grinned at the little mannerism he picked up from her. It was refreshing to see him put this much care and effort into her new rouge.

“Does it look better now?” She rubbed her lips together to tease him some more.

“Ah. Yeah, it looks great,” he pulled away from her, wiping the lip balm she left on his lips earlier with the napkin, and tossing the used tissue into the bin by the mirror. Arthur put his hands on his waist and re-assessed the makeup combination with her strappy black dress and shiny jewelry. “You look great. Really great, actually.” The matte lipstick probably would’ve looked even better. Damn it.

“I wonder how it would look on you.”

"On me? I don't wear lip gloss like you do."

Kat swiftly planted a kiss on his cheek and took a step back to admire her artwork. Her smile grew wider as she watched Arthur’s face flush from the accessory he sported on his cheek.

“You’re right, darling. It does look great. Reaaally great.” Kat beamed, extremely proud of ruffling some of his feathers. His eyes darted to the mirror behind her and he caught a glimpse of his pink face. He had completely forgotten about the tie by now. He was much more focused on stopping himself from blushing further.

Arthur wanted to hate it for how cheesy it was of her to brand him like that, but he loved that she made him feel like his teenage self. Specifically, the teenage self that showed up to their first date looking like a trainwreck. His flush deepened as he realized how ridiculous he would look in the public eye. But hell, he loved the affectionate stamp. He never thought his date would proudly leave kiss marks on his face like that. It felt like something out of a movie or a dream.

“Should we head out now?” Kat asked, grabbing her little purse and checking for the car keys. Arthur didn’t know what to say or do. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings by ruining her masterpiece, but he didn’t want to leave the ruby residue on his face for the world to see.

“Uh..”

“..What?” she asked innocently, looking over her shoulder. He shyly pointed to his cheek, then returned his hand to his waist, and mumbled something. She raised an eyebrow and smirked. Did he call it a beauty mark? He cleared his throat and looked back at her, waiting for her to do something about it.

“Oh? Did I leave a mark?”

“…Yeah.. Mark..”

“Oh, sorry about that. Let me fix it for you.” She gave his other cheek a matching stain. Arthur’s hand flew over his nose and mouth as he tried to contain his flustered self. He felt his heart working hard to quickly pump the blood to his face as she toyed with his emotions. It didn’t help that she looked so adorable when she played him like that, cocky smile and all. Why did it have to be a bright crimson?! He would've been fine with a peachy gloss!

“I’ll drive tonight, so you can look at the menu in the meantime. We don’t want to waste any more time, do we?” Kat cutely lifted her shoulders and walked out to go to the car. Arthur’s gaze lingered on her, his heart swelling with affection as he watched her leave.

When Kat noticed he wasn’t following, she turned with a huff and made her way back to him. Grabbing him by his tie, she playfully tugged him along.

“Come on. Don't make me help you with this tie again. I only know how to untie it.”

Arthur’s teenage self would’ve combusted if he knew how his love life was going to turn out.

[manikas-whims]

More evidence on the situation with @dollgxtz stealing zombie’s works

i’m omitting the usernames of the people who have provided the evidence, as per their request for anonymity.

Someone who's been in both Resident Evil as well as Love and Deepspace fandom, has revealed that @dollgxtz used to be in the RE fandom and that her fic mirrors entirely a Yandere Leon Kennedy fic as well a fic titled “something permanent”

Secondly, here's just one snippet of @dollgxtz stealing word for word from zombie Leon K. story for their popular Sylus Fanfic

there's minor tweaking but otherwise, it's copy-pasting, and you can see it for yourself.

Thirdly, on top plagiarism, @dollgxtz works have also shown the usage of AI in their writing (upto 66% AI generated)

Lastly, as of now, their other “Sylus x Reader” and “Zayne x Reader” one-shot fics that @dollgxtz copied from zombie HAVE BEEN DELETED.

..which clearly shows that @dollgxtz is scurrying around, clearing evidence of their stealing, instead of coming clean and apologizing 😒

After what happened to A*y*mi, I don't think Love and Deepspace fandom should further encourage and support such thieves who'd rather steal and use AI instead of actually working hard to create a beautiful plot.

And this is merely evidence based on how much they've stolen from one person’s works (who clearly talked about it in a post from back in November, showing that dollgxtz has continued to copy from their works for a long time.)

For all we know, they might've stolen from other writers’ fics as well.

[laura1633]

Oh God your bottom boxer max/pretty soft Dom Charles post just changed my brain chemistry forever

Maybe...write it?? Please???

Well I am writing a boxer Max fic and it will be bottom Max and there is definitely an element of him being submissive. I hope it will be posted in the next couple months but I haven't decided whether to do it multi chapter or one long one shot yet.

In the meantime, here is a random snippet of Charles taking care of boxer Max. Sorry for the quality, it's rushed but hopefully gets the vibe across.

It’s the day after a fight when Max seems to suffer the most. The adrenaline from the previous night all but gone and replaced with the reality of what he has put his body through.

Its tough for Charles too, in a completely different way of course. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to waking up and seeing Max laying next to him battered and bruised. He’s not even sure that he wants to get used to it. 

It gets a little easier with time though. The sight of purple abrasions against pale white skin doesn’t make him recoil quite like it used to. 

Max is still his Max. Still beautiful in a way that makes Charles’ heart burst. His soft blue eyes swollen and darkened but framed with long thick lashes that flutter when he looks at Charles and smiles. 

“Hey,” Charles coos quietly, “Do you feel okay?”

Max nods delicately. His cheeks are puffy, lips fatter than they usually are, a red nick right above his left eyebrow looks particularly sore. 

“How do I look?” Max gives Charles a lopsided smile, even the curl of his lips looks pained. 

“Beautiful,” Charles hums, “Always beautiful.” 

Max snorts out a half laugh. Tired. Uncertain. 

“You don’t believe me?” Charles leans in, presses his lips careful against Max’s jaw, “You think a few cuts and bruises would stop you looking pretty?”

Max lets out a soft exhale, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as Charles continues to let his lips brush gently over his skin. 

“Do you want me to get you something to eat? Drink?” Charles strokes a hand through Max’s hair, smiling to himself as Max nuzzles against the touch. 

“Just want you,” Max makes a happy sound as Charles scratches lightly against his scalp. It’s a far cry from the Max that was on display last night. The Max that the public knows. Aggressive. Determined. A brawler always looking for his next knock out victory. 

The public see the muscled strength. The blood and sweat. The killer instinct. Charles knows a different Max. A softer Max. Gentle. The Max who appreciates a delicate touch. 

“You look in pain,” Charles gives Max a sympathetic look. Sometimes Max can come out of a fight with barely a blemish on him. Other times it looks like even breathing is a struggle. Today is a bad day, Charles can tell from the way Max inhales and exhaled so carefully, like his ribcage aches.

Max whimpers, brows pinching together, eyes pleading. If his lips weren’t so swollen then Charles is pretty sure there would be a visible pout. 

“Remember what we said,” Charles hums. 

“I have to tell you if it hurts,” Max says softly, already getting himself more comfortable on the bed, legs starting to inch apart. 

“That’s right,” Charles soothes as he inches the covers down, letting his gaze linger on each cut and patch of discolouration on the skin. Max may have won last night but he hasn’t come away unscathed.

“You should have seen the other guy,” Max quips half heartedly as he sees Charles staring at a particularly tender looking spot on his right side.

“I did see the other guy,” Charles runs his hands up Max’s legs  “But it’s you I’m worried about.” 

Max’s breath hitches the instant Charles gets to his thighs. For a moment Charles thinks he might have accidentally pressed against an injury but then the Dutchman moans softly and rolls his hips. 

“You need something inside you,” Charles hums, more of a statement than a question. The Monegasque might not be some muscled fighter but his touch is enough to make Max come undone in an instant, “What do you need?”

“You,” Max’s eyes are closed, head titled back, his dick already hard against his stomach, precum pooling right next to pink patch of skin. 

“Legs wider for me please,” Charles splays his hands to the inside of Max’s thighs and helps spread them. Max is particularly pliant the day after a fight, “Tell me what you want me to do to you?”

Max whines softly. 

“Use your words for me Max,” Charles reaches across to get some lubricant from the bedside cabinet and warms it through his fingers, “You’re doing so well for me.” 

And he really is. Charles knows Max is beyond exhausted. It’s not just the physical fight. It’s the lead up, the media scrutiny, the psychological side of preparation. He’s given everything he has to give. Almost everything. He saves a small part of himself for Charles. 

“I want you inside me,” Max mumbles lazily, a smile still on his face.

“That’s good,” Charles soothes as he runs his fingers around Max’s hole. Soft, slow movements. Still enough for Max to start moaning and rocking against him, eager for more. 

Charles smiles to himself. Teases a little past the point Max starts making disgruntled noises. Much like how Max has learnt to take his time and pick his moments in a fight, so has Charles. He knows when to make Max work for something, when to praise him, when to give him what he deserves. 

The Monegasque slides a finger inside, drawing out a breathy sound from Max. One finger becomes two, then three until Max is moaning and clenching around him, his dick still dribbling pre all over himself. 

“How do you want to come?” Charles curls his fingers, watches Max’s right thigh jerk. 

“With your dick inside me,” Max says confidently, spreading his legs wider as an invitation. 

“Do you deserve that?” Charles lets his fingers drag against Max’s rim and heaves himself off the bed so he can slip out of his clothes. 

“I won didn’t I?” Max smiles. 

“And if you hadn’t of won?” Charles asks, “Would you still have deserved me?”

Max pauses, squints through his blue eyes. 

“Baby,” Charles hums, “What did we say?”

Max takes a long laboured breath, “That I don’t have to win to deserve you.”

“That’s right,” Charles praises, “You’re so pretty, so perfect. You deserve so much” 

Max nods although Charles still isn’t sure if Max truly believes it. He still seems like he thinks he has something to prove, otherwise he wouldn’t keep putting his body through this time and time again. 

Charles clambers over Max and press the head of his cock against the Dutchman’s rim. The sounds Max makes are beautifully desperate, his hips bucking upwards trying to take what he wants.  When Charles pushes in, Max’s face relaxes as if he’s finally contented. 

[dresshistorynerd]

Roughly 10 Cool Historical Queer Figures More People Should Know About

Part 1 - From Ancient Era to Early Modern Era

In spirit of Pride Month here's some snippets of queer history I think are interesting.

I've been working on a series of deep dives into interesting historical queer figures, but I haven't had the time to continue my list after the first entry about Julie d'Aubigny. I do want to continue with it, but I came to the realization that I will never have to time to do all the cool and interesting figures in depth, since there's too many, so I decided to do a list with brief descriptions about some of my favorite figures who are not that well known. Some of them are more well-known than others but I think they all deserve more acknowledgement.

I was able to trim down the number of figures to (roughly) 20, which was still too many for one post, so it's two posts now. They are in chronological order, so this part is set mostly before Victorian Era and the second part will be from Victorian Era onward.

This list is centered around western history (but not exclusively) because that's the history I'm most familiar with, though it's definitely not all white, since western history is not all white. I will be avoiding using modern labels, since they are rarely exactly applicable to history, rather I will present whatever we know about these figures' gender, sexuality and relationships. If there's information about what language they used about themselves, I will use that. Often we don't know their own thoughts, so I will need to do some educated guess work, but I will lean towards ambiguity whenever evidence is particularly unclear. If you are the type of person who gets angry with the mere suggestion there's a possibility that a historical gnc person might not have been cis, I encourage you to read my answers to related asks (here and here) first before sending me another identical ask. Try to at least bring some new arguments if you decide to waste my time with your trans erasure.

1. Khnumhotep and Niankhkhnum (latter half of 2400 BCE)

Khnumhotep and Niankhkhnum were ancient Egyptian royal servants, and possibly the first recorded gay couple in history known by name. They shared the title of Overseer of the Manicurists in the Palace of King Nyuserre Ini. They both had a wife and children, but they (along with their families) were buried together in a tomb. The tomb decorations show them similarly as other afterlife couples.

2. Marinos the Monk (c. 5th-8th century)

Marinos the Monk was born as Marina somewhere in eastern parts of Byzantine Empire, likely in the Levant. He was from a wealthy Christian family, possibly Coptic. Assigned female at birth his widowed father planned to marry him off and go to a monastery himself, but he convinced his father to take him with him dressed as a boy named Marinos. His father agreed and they were accepted as monks. After his father died many years later, he continued his life as a male presenting monk. Later he was accused of fathering an illegitimate child with a daughter of an innkeeper, which was not possible, but he didn't revoke the accusations, instead he begged for the abbot's forgiveness for "his sins". Marinos was banished from the monastery and became a beggar. For 10 years he raised his alleged illegitimate child as a father, until he was allowed to return to the monastery and do penance. Only after his death the abbot and the monks discovered his genitals and his inability to father children and were distraught for punishing an innocent man for 10 long years. The real father was discovered and along with the innkeeper and his daughter they all came to honor Marinos' grave and ask his forgiveness. He was canonized as a saint for his sacrificial selflessness, modesty and humility and honored across the Mediterranean from Ethiopia to France.

3. Mubārak and Muẓaffar al-Saqlabi (c. 10th - 11th century)

Mubārak and Muẓaffar were co-rulers of Taifa of Valencia in Muslim Spain. Al-Saqlabi means literally "of the Slavs", which in Al-Andalus was a general term for enslaved northern Europeans, as the two had been enslaved as children. They were in the service of another al-Saqlabi, a chief of police, and they worked they way up as civil servants till a local military coup in 1010, which resulted in them becoming the emirs of Taifa of Valencia. English language sources often describe them as "brothers" and "eunuchs", which gives the "historical gal pals" trope a concerning twist, but contemporary Muslim sources wrote fawningly about their passionate love, trust based on equality and mutual devotion. There was a popular genre of homoerotic poetry in the Islamic world at the time and poems in that genre were written about celebrating Mubārak and Muẓaffar's relationship. In 1018 Mubārak was killed in a riding accident and Muẓaffar shortly after in an uprising.

4. Eleno de Céspedes (1545 – died after 1589)

CW: genital inspection

Eleno was born in Andalusia, Spain, to an enslaved black Muslim woman and to a free Castillian peasant. He was assigned female at birth, given name Elena, and branded as a mulatto born to a slave. She was freed as a child and married to a stonemason at 15-16 years old. When pregnant, her husband left her and died a while later. Later Eleno testified that his intersex condition became externally visible, while he gave birth, and he became a man. He left his son to be raised by a friend and traveled around Spain. After he stabbed a pimp and ended up in jail, he started presenting as a man and openly courting women. Eventually he taught himself to be a surgeon with the help of a surgeon friend.

When he married María del Caño, his maleness was questioned and he was subjected to genital inspection multiple times and it was agreed by doctors that he had definitely male genitals, possibly also female genitals. After a year of marriage the couple was accused of sodomy. Eleno was tried by the Spanish Inquisition and subjected to more genital inspections, during which no penis was found. He claimed that his penis had been amputated after an injury. He defended himself in the trial by arguing that his intersex condition was natural and he had become a man after his pregnancy, so his marriage was legal. He was sentenced only for bigamy, since he had not confirmed that his husband was dead and punished as a male bigamist with 200 lashes and 10 years of public service to care for the poor in a public hospital. His fame attracted a lot of people wanting to be healed by him, which which was very embarrasing for the hospital so he was sent away and eventually exonerated from his charges.

5. Chevaliére d'Éon (1728-1810)

Charles d'Éon de Beaumont was born to a poor French noble family. In their 20s they became a government official and at 28 they joined the secret spy network of the king, Secret du Roi. They became a diplomat first in Russia and later in Britain while they used their position to spy for the king. Rumors circulated in London that they were secretly a woman. While in London they had a falling out with the French ambassador, accused him of attempted murder and published secret diplomatic correspondence. They were instead accused of libel and went into hiding. After the death of Louis XV in 1774 and the abolishment of Secret du Roi, d'Éon negotiated with the French government of the end of their exile in exchange for the rest of the secret documents he possessed. D'Éon took the name Charlotte, claimed she was in fact a cis woman - she had pretended to be man since a child so she could get the inheritance - and demanded the government to recognize her as such. When the king agreed and included funds for women's wardrobe, she agreed and returned to France in 1777. After that she helped rebels in the American War of Indepence - was not allowed to ]go and fight too, ghostwrote her not super reliable memoir, offered to lead a division of female soldiers against the Hasburgs in 1792 - was for some reason denied, attended fencing tournaments till 65 years old and settled down for the rest of her years with a widow, Mrs. Cole. After her death a surgeon reported that she had male primary sex characteristics, but fairly feminine secondary sex characteristics, like round breasts, which might suggest she had hormonal difference/was intersex in some way.

6. Public Universal Friend (1752-1819)

Public Universal Friend, or The Friend or PUF, was born as Jemima Wilkinson to Quaker parents in Rhodes Island, USA. Jemima contracted a disease in 1776, gained intense fever and almost died. The Friend claimed that she did die and God sent the Friend to occupy her body. The Friend didn't identify as man or a woman, and when asked about the Friend's gender, the Friend said "I am that I am". The Friend didn't want any gendered pronouns or gendered language to be used about the Friend. The Friend's pronouns, according to the writings of the Friend's followers, were "the Friend", "PUF" and possibly he. First recorded neo-pronouns perhaps? The Friend also dressed in androgynous/masculine manner.

The Friend started a bit cultish religious society disavowed by mainstream Quakers, The Society of Universal Friends, which I can only describe as chaotic good. The Friend first predicted a Day of Judgement would come in 1780 and when 1780 came and went, the Friend decided it was New England's Dark Day in 1780 and they had survived survived the Judgement Day so all was good then. The Friend preached for gender equality, free will, universal salvation (Jesus saved everyone and no one will go to hell) and abolition of slavery. The Friend persuaded any followers to free their slaves, which is probably the most chaotic good thing a potential cult leader can do with their influence over their followers, and several freed black people followed the Friend too. The Friend advocated for celibacy and was unfavorable towards marriage, but didn't think celibacy or rejection of marriage were necessary for everyone else, so it feels more like a personal preference. Many young unmarried women followed the Friend and some of them formed Faithful Sisterhood and took leadership positions among the Society.

The Society of Universal Friends tried to form a town for themselves around mid-1780s, till in 1799 the Friend was accused of blasphemy. The Friend successfully escaped the law two times. First the Friend, a skilled rider (what's a gender neutral version of horse girl?), escaped with a horse, then after an officer and an assistant tried to arrest the Friend at home, women of the house drove the men away. Third time 30 men surrounded the Friend's home at night, but a doctor convinced them that the Friend was in too poor health to move but would agree to appear at court. The Friend was cleared for all charges and even allowed to preach at the court.

7. Mary Jones (early 1800s–1853)

Mary Jones' origin is unknown, but she was an adult in 1836 in New York, USA. She was a free Black person, who preferred to present as a woman. She was sex worker by trade and used a prosthetic vagina. As a side hustle she would steel her customer's wallets, and usually they wouldn't tell anyone because it was 1830s and inter-racial sex and prostitution were illegal and everyone was repressed. Smart. Get your coin, girl. However after one of her more shameless customers discovered his wallet with 99 dollars inside had been replaced with a different man's empty wallet and contacted the police, she was arrested. The police discovered she had male genitals and when they searched her room they found several more stolen wallets. She appeared in court in her female presentation and when asked about her dress, she said that prostitutes she had worked with encouraged her to dress in women's clothing and said she looked better in them. They were right and she had since presented as a woman in her evening profession and among other Black people. She was convicted for grand larceny and sentenced to 5 years in prison. Later she continued to present as a woman and practice sex work, for which she was arrested for two more times.

8. George Sand (1804-1876)

George Sand was pen name of Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil, a French Romantic writer. Amantine was high-born with a countess as a grandmother. George wrote about themself with alternating masculine and feminine language, using feminine language when talking about his childhood, but masculine language often other times. Their friends also used both masculine and feminine terms about them. Victor Hugo for example said about them: "George Sand cannot determine whether she is male or female. I entertain a high regard for all my colleagues, but it is not my place to decide whether she is my sister or my brother." George preferred men's clothing in public, which was illegal for those seen as women without a permit, but they didn't ask for permissions. They alternated between masculine and feminine presentations. They were outspoken feminist, critic of the institution of marriage, committed republican and supporter of worker's rights. They were married at age 18, had two children and left their husband in 1831, but legally separated from him in 1835. They had many affairs with men and some with women, at least with actress Marie Dorval. Their most notable relationship was with Frédéric Chopin, but they fell out before Chopin's death.

I fucked up the numbering first and put less entries to this list than the second one (which I have not finished), but 8 is kinda roughly 10 right?

[teamred]

re: your tags - I am dying to know about your Wade’s sister!reader x Logan fic, omg that sounds so fun 👀💖

-@eupheme

omg hi j!!! @eupheme (gonna tag you in case the ask post doesn't do it)

i actually have two wade's sister!reader x logan fics in the works! i hope you don't mind me sharing both~

the one i was referring to in my tags is called "dusk till dawn".

summary: vanessa is kidnapped, so while wade runs off to save her, he assigns logan to be reader's bodyguard. however, they don't get along, but they start to fall for each other over time.

it'd be a road trip/motel hopping au with lots of banter, sharing one bed, tension, angst, and steamy moments of course 👀

i'm taking inspiration from some of the moments with logan and mariko from the wolverine (2013) movie!

i'd love to share snippets, but it's really in the draft stages right now!!

second fic i have is called "can't help myself" (title tentatitive)

summary: wade only has one rule for logan: his sister is completely off-limits. but of course, logan never plays by the rules, and you couldn't give two shits about what your dumb-ass brother says.

this one would be more of a fun fic!! just like messing with wade but also having fun with logan and lowkey falling for him too

lots of dialogue, especially with wade, smut, fluff, etc. just a vibes fic

wouldn't be as long as the other fic - i wrote quite a bit for this already! here's a snippet of the intro:

“Don't look at her,” Wade paces around his apartment’s living room, listing the things Logan, his new roommate, should avoid when he meets his sister tomorrow. “Don't breathe in her presence, don't even think about her, and especially don't—” 

“What, ya gonna tell me I can’t fuck her next?” Logan cuts in with an amused chuckle, reclining on the living room couch with a hand above his head. 

“Yes, bingo!” Wade exclaims, pointing at him excitedly. “Exactly that, you geriatric sexy vampire. Or should I technically say vampire hunter?” He pauses, wondering for a moment. 

“Anyways,” he continues, “you can have any woman you want in this new universe—hell, I’ll cry my heart out every night after my evening jerk-off seshes, but you can even have Vanessa—but my sister? We’re gonna have a repeat of the Honda Odyssey fight, Wolvie, and that won’t be a pretty sight to see.” 

“Okay,” Logan replies, getting up from the couch and heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll make sure to fuck your sister until she forgets the fact that she's your sister. Got it.” 

“Hey!” Wade smacks him on the back as he’s bent over, trying to grab a beer from the fridge. A low growl escapes from him. “I’m being serious here.” 

“When are you ever serious?” Logan asks, popping off the beer cap with his thumb. 

“Now! I am being serious now.” Wade’s voice rises before he takes a second to compose himself, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly. Logan watches him carefully, sipping his beer. 

“Please, Logan,” he barely whispers, avoiding eye contact. 

The silence, punctuated only by Logan’s sipping, feels uncomfortable and heavy. Finally, Logan lets out a sigh.

“Fine,” he grunts. “I won’t get involved with your sister.” 

Wade breaks into a relieved smile and extends his pinky. “You promise?” 

Despite Logan rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he ends up hooking his pinky around Wade’s, sealing the deal.

Except Wade doesn’t see Logan’s other hand behind his back, with his middle and index fingers crossed over another.

[morbethgames]

New Update Is Out!

First and foremost, new update is out! It's kind of a small one, but it's a scene with Hawks where they are debriefing the PC on the case. Lots of variation in those 10k or so words, so you'll probably only see about 2k of it per playthrough.

Well everybody, I had been taking a bit of time. Admittedly, and a bit… embarrassingly… coding like, 30 different variations of Lance's happy-fun-time burnt me out. But, it gave me time to really think about things for the game and scenes that should be in there and where their place in the story is. As well as a scene or two I could probably cut so the game doesn't take another year. It's all about that balance of whether or not you can say a scene happened, versus which scenes need to be shown happening. Maybe it can be added in later, but right now, the priority is definitely the time skip scenes and the main story.

But one thing that is refreshing, and a little scary, is seeing the fact that the first scene for chapter 5 is now set up in the game to start being written in. Chapter 5. The final chapter of the game. It's been 3 years. Now, it's gonna be another few months (few as in upper few) until it's finished because Chapter 5 is going to be the chapter with the most variations yet. Multiple TBI's to code. Multiple endings. Multiple paths. It's gonna be a huge chapter. But I'm gonna be starting it (in between finishing up the time skip scenes of course). It's absolutely wild to think about.

There are gonna be some scenes in the final game that aren't going to be in the demo, so the incentive to purchase the game is still gonna be there, but as of right now, the plan is to fully beta test this game. Including the ending. Because what's important to me is making sure I get it right, and in order to do that, I need people to help test it. Whether or not I'll do that publicly through to the ending here or not is yet to be seen. I may ask a couple people to beta test it in private. I'm honestly not sure yet. Maybe it'll be a patreon thing; who knows?

What I do know is this game has been, and will be until it's finished, a great lesson. I have a habit of starting things and not finishing them. Obviously I wasn't gonna say that before because then people wouldn't be invested in the game. But I think it's quite obvious at this point that I'm absolutely going to finish this project, and that is a huge accomplishment for me. It's proof that I can do something like this and see it through to the end.

But yeah, thanks everyone for continuing to come back and check out the game. Now that the current version of the demo is finished, I'll be posting a bit more on Patreon as well. Snippets and whatnot. I figured since I released the little mini-extra scenes game on there I could take another week or two to focus on finishing this up.

As always, stay brilliant.

-Vi

🛡️Patreon | Forum Page | Demo Link🛡️

[titania-sleeps]

ARGHHH i can't choose!! i love all house husband though!!

i'm glad you do hehe... i devise and plot deviously just for them bc they deserve it. i do wonder if people enjoy meaner readers vs. loving readers; I'll release both eventually but the two of them have such a different dynamic. the normal sub house husband is a bit more assertive and a brat, while the inadequate one just really really wants you to love him and only him... but in like a pathetic way.

here's a little snippet of what i had for them (i think the initial draft for both dated around 2022...)! as a note, my ideas may seem to blend in w some of my other works simply bc i didn't bother making them too distinct from each other, but i'll edit it to become more cohesive when i post in full in the future :D

warning: mild nsfw, dom reader (implied afab), minors DNI pls

Submissive House Husband Yandere x Independent Strong Reader

He is undone by you, a knot slipping apart. Seams unraveling, hair untangling, his entire vessel breathing erratically. Your nails grazing his skin erupt whispers of flames, dancing and swimming to his face. You thumb his cheek, tenderly and softly. You are never tender with him, at least not to such an extent.

His excitement grows, but he fears to open his eyes. He fears that if he opens his eyes, he will peer too far into your thoughts. And he knows that you are not thinking of him, even when you let your kind lips leave little love marks on his face.

"Why won't you look at me?" you ask, your voice like a pleasant temptation to his ears. It slithers slyly into his brain, and like a command, his eyes flutter open.

"Good," you purr. A praise. He cannot stop the shy grin from stamping itself onto his lips.

"You don't..." he pauses, wondering if he should continue. You stop and look at him, giving him your full attention. Shying under your gaze, he mutters, "You don't do this to anyone else... right?"

Your laugh echoes back at him, as though mocking him, but it is not unkind. Your thumb presses against his upper lip. "No. You are my husband, are you not?"

His face lights up in bright pink. How could he doubt you? Oh no, you look disappointed. Frantically, he nods his head.

"Yes, I am yours," he responds quickly. You hum in satisfaction, leaning in for a gentle peck. But you leave too soon, much too soon.

Hungry for the saccharine taste of your lips, he wraps his arms around your neck and brings you in closer. Closer and closer, so that the lining of your lip becomes a perfect match with his. So close, to the point that your tongue is melted into his, and your needy flesh encase upon another.

He seeks for you with the vigor of a beast, no longer quite the same timid house pet he once was. As you pull away for a breath of air, he whines. Just a moment without your lips is painful for him.

The eyes that peer down on him are now focused, like a trained sniper on their target. His body shivers; now your attention is wholly on him. Now you are looking at him.

You are truly divine. You are a goddess sent from above to smite him for his sins, for loving you far too much. He can only beg by your feet, day by day, pleading for a single audience with you. He just wants to please you, to become something that relieves you from strife and suffering. And to think that his goddess is now looking at him, just him! Only him!

The sound of silk slipping off jolts him from his daze. His eyes trail the discarded piece of clothing; a snake slithering its way up to an iridescent apple. The soft gleam of your skin meets his own eyes, and the sight breathes life into his fingers.

"Not yet," you say, a wonderful smile presented to him on your countenance.

[To be continued...]

Inadequate Submissive House Husband Yandere x Loving Reader

His wife is everything he has ever wanted in his life. You are beautiful and kind; forgiving whenever he makes a mistake and even patient she he does. And he always does. You are so lovely, he cannot help but want to be with you forever and ever and ever and ever and ever—

But he can't. He knows he can't, and it hurts so much, because he knows that he is useless. Deep down, he has already realized that you are only keeping him around because you pity him, not because you love him.

He wants to do better for you, but his abilities are limited to very little. He wishes that his love is enough to satiate you, but he is far too well aware of your disappointment in him. If he is lucky, you will not divorce him in the next year or two.

♡♡♡

Oh, your sweet, foolish husband. Always so patient, always so soft. Demure mannerisms and shy mumbles cloud his true worth. He may bumble and stumble about like a newborn doe on two legs, but his demeanor and intellect are worth far more. Yet only you are allowed to know this, and it is something you intend to keep locked up in your little treasure box of secrets.

Although he should most definitely refrain from doing housework.

[To be continued...]

ty for reading if you made it this far!!

-> masterlist

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Kaiju!AU Rewrite Snippet

So as stated in a previous post, I've started rewriting the chapters I currently have for the Kaiju!AU due to the original not meeting my original vision and my own pacing minimizing the quality (in my own mind anyway). I'm still on hiatus from answering asks for imagines for the AUs, but I am still working on the ideas at my own pace and will slowly reintegrate myself into something comfortable and enjoyable.

Anyway, this is set shortly after Yuu discovers the ship and plane graveyard from the original prologue, expanding a bit more on the island itself...as well as meeting someone MUCH earlier than I had planned the first time around. >v>

I've still got much to finish writing for the first chapter and get it to a point where I'm satisfied with it, but I'm happy that I've been able to add more of the worldbuilding ideas I had discussed in previous posts so far!

In short: Story begins relatively the same, but it's been expanded a helluva lot more than before and will progress differently now that I'm gaining more confidence in my own skills since first attempting this AU!

Warnings: Some swearing in the snippet and some implied blood. If I need to tag anything in here a specific way, please let me know so I can keep it in mind whenever I post the final product!

//////BEGIN SNIPPET//////

The sun was steadily rising now as they continued their search, somehow managing to escape the giant metal deathtrap maze and into a wide clearing. Up ahead they could see a jungle tree line, immediately recognizing the cluster of yellow at the top of one of the trees. Relieved to have found a food source, they ran as fast as they could towards the trees. As they grew closer and closer, however, their excitement turned to confusion as they slowed to a trot. Still the trunks of the trees continued to grow bigger, dwarfing Yuu as they stopped and stared up in horror at the sight of the trees looming over them like towers.

“What the hell is going on,” they uttered, slowly turning in a circle as they realized just how small they were compared to the foliage. Plants that should have come up to their waist or shoulders were large enough to form a canopy, shielding them from the steadily growing harsh sunlight. Trees that should have been easily 15-20 feet tall were easily three times that height, fruit that should have been easy to pluck and gather now swayed threateningly like a boulder ready to be dropped.

Buzzing overhead caught their attention as they looked up, pure terror filling their veins as they saw what could only be described as a giant dragonfly-like creature flitting about. It hovered close to a flower, the downdraft of its wings buffeting Yuu with strong winds as it landed on a petal—and disappearing the moment the flower snapped shut around its body, clamping down like a vice as it struggled to escape.

“Nope! Nope, nope, nope, nope!” was all Yuu managed to say before they scurried away, not wanting to find out if anything else had a taste for flesh. “Giant food is one thing, but I draw the line at man-eating plants!”

Giant food, giant bugs, giant plants, a deserted island, and an entire graveyard of ships and planes? This had to be a fever dream or a nightmare of epic proportions! Yet it was getting harder and harder to find logic in anything they were seeing. None of this should even be possible, and yet…here they were, stranded in the middle of nowhere with no idea of who they were, how they got here, or even why they were here. And if the insects and plants were enormous, what else was even bigger than them? They didn’t even know if there were any other survivors out the-

‘Get a grip, Yuu!’ they thought, managing to stick close to the edge of the jungle on their right and keeping the shore on their left side. ‘Panicking won’t help anything, and you need to stay focused. Food will have to wait, so let’s just find water and shel-‘ the ground collapsed under their right foot, sending Yuu sliding down a steep incline with loud, “Aaaah!!”

Whud!

“…ow,” they uttered, groaning as they slowly sat up. Glancing back where they came from, they spotted the steep slope that had been concealed by one of the leaves. The dirt was smoothed away to reveal red and yellow clay, as though someone had carved out the opening with a tool to remove any bumps or ridges. Realizing that it would be too steep a climb to get out of the ravine, they sighed and shook their head. “Great…is everything on this island trying to kill-”

Thoom…

“…me…” Their voice trailed off as another thud hit the ground, the earth vibrating beneath their feet as they slowly turned towards the densest part of the forest. Something was coming, the sound of branches creaking and snapping reaching Yuu’s ears as they slowly started to creep behind a large rock formation—before finally noticing the razor-sharp teeth and the empty eye socket. They clamped their hands over their mouth as a massive black shape began to emerge, ducking into the gap of the skull until they could peek through the socket.

The creature that emerged was gigantic, towering beyond anything they could imagine as it crept into the area on four legs. The sunlight fell across its body, black and green feathers gleaming while its beak—wickedly sharp and deadly—was slick with something damp.

‘What…what the fuck is that thing?!’ Yuu thought, pressing their body against the inside of the skull as they watched the monster move.

It sniffed the air, its four glowing golden eyes scanning the area. It sniffed at the colorful crystal formations at the base of the tree. A pair of thin, small arms extending from its chest as the strange hands grasped at the stones, snapping them from the base. When it opened its beak, the sun glinted off of sharp rows of teeth before it crunched down on the crystals. Once the crystals were gone, it sniffed around for a moment before it stood on its hind legs and leaned against one of the trees. Its neck stretched out further than they thought was possible, its sharp beak plucking at the fruit that seemed so ridiculously small in comparison. From this angle, they could see a pair of massive wings pressed tightly to its sides and a long serpentine tail lazily sweeping across the ground.

‘Okay…whatever the hell that thing is, it seems only interested in fruit, so maybe it won’t mistake me for a bug and eat me…?’

Something skittered across the bark near the monster’s claw, and a moment later its head had darted forward. A giant spider-like bug with crystalline spikes was squirming in its beak before it tossed its head back, swallowing it whole before continuing to pluck at the fruit with a distinctly happy trill.

‘…yeah, that makes more sense,’ they thought, feeling their heart beating heavily in their chest. ‘Dammit…I can’t run or that thing will spot and eat me like that spider! Maybe I can just…wait here in this skull and-”

Beep-bwoop!

“Shit!” Yuu whispered under their breath as they immediately reached down to the ankle bracelet. To their horror, the bird-lizard monster’s head immediately snapped towards their direction, the two feathery ears popping up and swiveling left and right—searching for the sound again. ‘Dammit, why is the universe trying to kill me?!’

THOOM…THOOM…

Each footstep from the monster made their heart jump as they pressed their body against the wall of the skull, bracing their feet against the other side to avoid falling over and making more noise. They could hear the beast sniff the air, the musty smell of rotting meat and fruit washing over the area while something loud scraped against the ground around their hiding spot.

‘Please don’t beep again, please don’t let it find me, please, please, please, please!’ they thought, staring at the bracelet as the light blinked mockingly up at them. The monster sniffed—horrifyingly close now—as a wave of hot air rushed through the eye socket. Through the gaps in the skull’s teeth, they could see its shadow blocking out the sunlight, the tips of what they realized were its massive claws beginning to curl underneath their hiding spot and starting to lift. ‘I just woke up, I don’t want to die!’

Just then, in the distance, a loud, echoing roar filled the air.

Immediately the bird-lizard let out a sound akin to a chirp as it dropped their shelter back down, the quiet crooning it was making earlier devolving into a terrifying hissing snarl and caw. The earth shook as Yuu heard it bound away, branches and leaves snapping in its path as they heard it barrel through the forest. Then…

Silence.

///////END SNIPPET////////

MWAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!! This is only a snippet of what to expect once I'm finished with my rewrites! Something I've come to realize is that whenever I introduced some of the Kaiju, I never really elaborated on their appearances outside of the basics from that species list I wrote before. Definitely going to be making more of a point of describing how they look to make it easier for my readers to imagine!

[diremoone]

better | gojo satoru.

a cute short story in honor of my nephew being born on Mother’s Day, here’s a snippet of something cute (but it’s published a few days after Mother’s Day lol). Also, feels like I haven’t written in 100 years and I’m constantly rusty so I’m sorry if this is bad lol.

w — UNSEALED! Gojo, fluff, adult/minor relationship, former! teacher/student relationship, post-canon, takes place about seven years after the Culling Games and JJK storyline, Reader is 23/24

Satoru’s newborn son felt like a feather in his arms.

He’d never tell anyone (Shoko might would) that he was absolutely terrified when he was first given his son — his firstborn — to hold after coming out of you. You, of course, got to have skin-to-skin contact with Seiji first. (To which Satoru managed to snap a few pictures.) But when you were done holding him, it was time for him to hold his child. And he was downright terrified.

At the time, every bad thought entered his mind.

What if he didn’t hold him right? What if he squeezed his son too tightly? What if, God absolutely forbid, he dropped him?

No. No, that wasn’t going to happen. He was the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alive, for crying out loud. Why wouldn’t he be able to hold his newborn child?

Satoru was surprisingly glad his overconfidence kicked in, because holding his son felt like a dream come true.

A few months have passed since the first day he’s held Seiji — since his son has been born. And nowadays, he’s absolutely certain he wants at least ten more.

Well, five at the least. Considering he’s not the one carrying the babies and doing all the hard work and labor; of course, he was going to ask you first.

But he’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice your presence. Not even his Six Eyes or inhuman-trained senses seem to acknowledge you’re in the room with him. Not until your voice gently cuts through the air.

“Satoru,” you say, “you should be in bed.”

“I’m good,” he reassures you, eyes not leaving the sleeping boy in his arms. “I’m good. I’m fine. I’m just watching him.”

“You’ve been watching him for nearly half a day. You need rest.”

“I don’t need to sleep,” he tries to argue in a soft voice. “I have the Limitless. I don’t have to have sleep.”

“But Seiji would want his father to sleep.”

And of course, your words strike him exactly where they needed to be struck. And you continue to talk, driving that nail that needed to be struck even deeper.

“You don’t have to shoulder everything anymore. Not like you used to,” you murmur. “There’s more First and Special Grade sorcerers a than there have been in a long time, myself included.”

Satoru had bragging rights against his clan. (Well, rights to say that his wife was extremely dangerous and would be the first to come and annihilate them if they did anything to Seiji.)

You had been the one to annihilate the Elders during the time of the Culling Game, and they stood absolutely no match against you when it had happened. He recalls Maki saying that she’d never seen her kouhai — or anyone really — that angry.

So, Satoru was more than happy to make the Gojo Clan understand you were just as equally of a threat as he was if anything happened or they tried something to your son.

“I just don’t want to miss anything. Not a single thing. Not even him wiggling his eyebrows in his sleep,” Satoru admits, the last part making him smile. “And if that means using my powers to stay awake all the time, I’m fine with it.”

For a man that’s been so closed-off with his emotions for well over a decade, you’re so glad to see and hear Satoru being this open. Vulnerability has never been his strong suit, but over the last few years, he’s been allowing himself to be more vocal.

The only problem for the rest of the world is that he’s only that open with you — his wife. And his son, of course.

You obviously have no problem with that.

Seiji coos, garnering his parents attention. He squirms in his father’s arms, stretching his legs.

“Oh, hey buddy,” Satoru whispers happily. “You’re awake!”

You love the big, excited grin that stretches across your husband’s face as the baby moves. The light of fatherly love in his eyes makes your heart soar and tears form in your eyes.

You remember when Satoru was terrified about becoming a dad. You remember the times where he feared becoming his own father. The man wasn’t like the usual physically abusive father you’d seen in a stereotypical show or movie. He was, technically speaking, but it was with sorcerer training. And even though Satoru didn’t show it or tell anyone, you knew bits of his younger years haunted him.

There had been long and deep discussions about his past and how he’d handle those things if they ever came up. There were also lots and lots of reassurances on your part, telling him that he’s already nothing like his own father.

Satoru would burn the world for his little family, and that was something you both already knew — something his father would never do.

”I think he’s hungry,” you comment softly.

“Want me to get the milk from the ready?”

“Please.”

Satoru hands Seiji to you like he’s made of glass. And somehow the bottle is done within a few minutes. Seiji just chugs away at the bottle, downing it faster than you’ve seen him since he’s been born.

Satoru gives a low whistle and chuckles. “Damn. He’s hungry.”

“And he’s eaten recently, too,” you add.

Silence, save for the sound of Seiji drinking from the bottle, takes over the room. But it’s not the bad, deafening kind. It’s the kind that’s focused, beautiful even. And if anyone were to step into the room of your family of three, they’d understand why.

“Thank you, [Name].”

His voice is full of love. When you look up from Seiji and into Satoru’s eyes, you see that it’s there too: the unconditional love for you and the sweet infant in your arms.

“For what?” The question comes out, but you’re sure you already know the answer.

But the second you ask, Satoru lifts you into his lap and you squeak. You knew he had always been this strong, but goodness. The amount is strength and ease he used to lift you made blood rush to your cheeks.

A sweet kiss on the cheek. “For being there with me.”

A sweet kiss on the other cheek. “For staying by my side.”

A long, loving kiss on your forehead that made you close your eyes. “For marrying me and being my wife. For giving birth to Seiji,” he mutters against your crown. “But most of all: for loving me. For loving me as I am, and for helping me become better. Better for you, for Seiji, and for myself. For helping me be a good dad for our son.”

Hot tears line your eyes from Satoru’s declaration of devotion and passion. You had no idea this was what you’d wake up from your sleep to. If you had known, you certainly would have prepared your heart just a little more.

“Oh, Satoru.”

You wrapped your free arm around his shoulder to try hug him. He helps, pulling you as close to him as possible, careful to not squish the cute sleeping baby between you.

“I love you, too. I love you so much, Satoru. We’ll always drive one another to be the best versions of ourselves. I’m your wife, and I’ll always be here. I have no intention of leaving your side. Ever.”

You share a slow Eskimo kiss, but Satoru’s lips mischievously steal a kiss anyway and it makes you giggle.

He glances down at Seiji, and then grins a grin that you means he’s gonna say something you’re going to smack him for.

“We make some really cute kids, don’t we? Wanna have ten more?”

Okay, no smacking. Sending him through several concrete walls should definitely suffice.

taglist:

@torusbabygoat

[ edited 12/20/23 | dividers belong to @/saradika-graphics ]

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [vii, preview]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: estimated 100k for the series, 1618 for this preview

— warnings: none for this preview

— playlist: to be added

— a/n: hi. im here to deliver a new chapter and banner for my favourite two idiots. im thankful to everyone for waiting so incredibly patiently and being so nice. i hope this snippet can satisfy you guys until the actual chapter drops (10k+ so far) !! oh and for anyone who might have forgotten the timeline of the story, the characters are stuck in December!!

— find it here

“Is everyone going home for Christmas?” Namjoon asked, wiping his mouth before grabbing his glass of wine, holding it up to his lips, speaking into it. “I know Kook is for sure.”

Jungkook nodded. “Got me there.”

And even without looking at him, you knew he was smiling and more than excited to go back home. He squeezed your hand, and you could tell he did so unconsciously. You squeezed back, happy for him that he was happy.

“Oh, right, I’ve been meaning to ask!” Jimin gasped, turning rather dramatically towards you. You blinked, unsure of what was about to spill from his lips.

“Is it true that you’re going back home with Kook, Y/N?” 

What?

Everyone turned to you, Chaeyoung raising her brow at you because were you? You stared back at her, mouth opened and closing because no, right? You weren’t, or were you? Your eyes lifted to Jungkook, and he had that same look on his face. Neither of you knew what to say or do. This wasn’t something you had discussed. And why would you have? It’d be ridiculous to assume that you’d be going back home with Jungkook to meet his parents for Christmas.

“Uh-?”

“I’m just asking because Kook’s parents have been asking me if I knew if he’s actually gonna bring you,” Jimin continued, shrugging. And maybe you would have focused on how much you wanted to strangle him right now and needed him to shut up if your mind wasn’t reeling from the fact that Jungkook seemed to have not only told his parents about your existence but also that you would be spending Christmas with them.

What?

“Okay, yeah, no, wait,” Jungkook interjected, a clear panic in his voice, turning fully to you. “I can explain.”

You blankly stared at him, unable to even make a single sound. He dug a hand through his hair, looking even more panicked the longer you said nothing.

“So, uh, my brother saw my posts and stories online and might have told my parents… that I’m dating you. And so they’ve been really curious and asking about you a lot, and it was a little annoying, so I just told them that I might bring you around for Christmas to shut them up. But—” He held out his hand as if to get ahead of you saying anything. “—I didn’t promise them anything. I just said it to get them off my back, you know?”

You continued staring at him, unsure of how to react or what to say because well, you hadn’t thought that either of your parents were ever going to get involved in any shape or form. You hadn’t even played with the idea of telling your parents. And why would you? All of this was fake! A ruse, so Jungkook could win his stupid bet!

“It wasn’t planned, or anything, okay? I wasn’t going to tell them about you-”

“You weren’t?” Jimin blurted out, brows pinching together. He seemed to have lost all ability to read the room, just a glass or two of wine enough to dull his brain. “Ow-!”

He glared at Taehyung, rubbing his arm. It still wasn’t enough to shut him up however. 

“What was that for? I’m just saying I’m a little surprised that Jungkook, the definition of a mama’s and papa’s boy, was planning on keeping his girlfriend a secret when he hasn’t shut up about Y/N for months-”

“No, wait it’s not like that,” Jungkook quickly scrambled, gesturing wildly. “It’s just that my parents, you know, can get a little much. And, I don’t know-”

His sentence didn’t find an end, and Jimin seemed to just take that as a sign to go on, 

“Didn’t Narae meet-”

“Okay, how about you finish your food, huh?” Taehyung interrupted, taking Jimin’s fork and picking up a big piece of meat before shoving it into his mouth. Namjoon and Seokjin exchanged glances, cringing. Yoongi lowered his head, and Jennie slid down on her seat. Chaeyoung looked at you with big empathetic eyes and Jisoo even gave your hand a squeeze. 

If there was anything genuine between you, this would have been devastating. Luckily, there wasn’t. So it couldn’t hurt. And yet, your heart felt like it was bleeding in your chest, a dagger shoved in, a dagger with Jungkook’s name. He was staring holes into you, but you couldn’t look at him, settling on the edge of the table instead. You weren’t hurt. You weren’t hurt that Narae with her perfect smile and manicured nails and beautiful hair and glossy lips got to meet his parents and you didn’t. It didn’t bother you at all! That was what you told yourself at least. Because you couldn’t possibly be hurt. Not when your relationship was transactional and just an act. And yet, to your misery, you were hurt, deeply. You hated it, how you weren’t all that unbothered as you wanted and more importantly, should be. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts though when you saw the glare Hoseok was looking at Jungkook with. It dawned on you how awful all of it had to sound to your friends then. Narae, who never even was Jungkook’s official girlfriend, got to meet his parents, but you, who was officially (at least to them) his girlfriend, he not only didn’t want to introduce to them but also planned on keeping a secret?

“Oh my God, you guys!” you laughed, loud and light, like it was all so very dumb and stupid. With a big swoop, you grabbed Jungkook’s hand on the table, hoping no one saw the shake in your fingers. Everyone looked at you.

“You’re misunderstanding. We had agreed from the beginning that we should take it a little slower, and not tell everyone immediately. I knew he wasn’t going to tell his parents. I told him not to.” You put on your most convincing smile, swallowing the knot in your throat, hoping desperately it was enough. Everyone was looking at you, and you looked right back at them, at everyone except for Jungkook. Your vision almost blurred, hazy at the edges, feeling your composure threaten to slip.

“It’s nothing.”

There was a slight shake in your voice, the tiniest of a waver. You couldn’t tell if your friends noticed, their faces unreadable to you. A moment of silence stretched across the room, the food long forgotten about. In the end, it was slightly tipsy Jimin, the one who started it all, to break the awkwardness.

“Okay, well, do I text them… yes or-?”

You wondered if Jimin was this stupid, or trying to put you through hell on purpose. His question made Taehyung next to him sigh and shake his head, lips pressed together as he stared daggers into the older one.

“What?” Jimin whispered, offended. Maybe you should have taken the wine from him sooner. 

You looked at Jungkook finally. He didn’t seem to have an answer at all, his eyes big and wide like a child’s. There was something in them that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It almost seemed like he wanted you to agree, say yes, of course, you’d meet his parents. You had to be imagining it. As quickly as it had come, you squashed the thought.

It was up to you. The decision was in your hands. Everyone was waiting for your answer. Jungkook would have to go with whatever you were saying, whether or not he liked it. 

A lot of it was probably spite, spite that Narae met them already and you hadn’t. And how would it look if you weren’t there when Jungkook inevitably made a post about being back home with his family and you weren’t there in the pictures? What would Narae think? You could already see a backhanded Instagram story in front of your eyes, how there was trouble in paradise. It was something you wouldn’t put past her at all, seeing as she had done so before, posting just an hour after Jungkook celebrated your one month anniversary about how cringe some couples could be. Anyone doubting your relationship might just lead to Taehyung doubting your relationship and then to Jungkook losing his bet and all of this would have been for nothing. That couldn’t happen, right? You had to do something against it!

“They probably won’t stop bothering you until you tell them yes, right?” 

You tried your hardest to sound casual, nonchalant, chill as some might say. This was no big deal, you told yourself.

It wasn’t what Jungkook had expected. He thought you’d give some roundabout answer that in the end summarised that you needed to keep things slow and easy. But you agreed. You were going to meet his parents. He searched for something in your features, anything to tell him how you genuinely felt about it. He was trying to read you, but it was like he had the wrong dictionary. 

“If that’s alright with you-” Maybe it was to hit the nail on the head, finish it off, you couldn’t say. But the urge was strong right then, just once to say it. “—babe?”

You turned to him and looked at him almost confidently. It was both your face and the pet name, but Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh. Of course, now you were going to call him babe. A grin spread across his lips.

“Okay, yeah.” He held your hand firmer and tighter. “I’d be more than happy for you to meet my parents. They’d be thrilled.”

He was a great liar. It sounded oh so very genuine.

You squeezed his hand and turned to Jimin. “I guess you can text them I’m going.”

find it here!!

[discordantwritings]

Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie

WC: 8.4k

Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.

Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy

No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.

Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.

But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.

Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.

When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-

You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.

“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”

It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”

“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”

“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.

“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.

“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”

As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”

Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“

He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”

There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”

That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”

It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.

“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”

You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.

You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.

It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).

Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.

“C’mon in.”

You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.

“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”

You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”

“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.

“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.

“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.

“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.

“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.

“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.

“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.

“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.

“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”

“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.

“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.

“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.

“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”

You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”

“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.

When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.

“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.

“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.

“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.

“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”

“I guess… there was this one time-“

You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.

“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.

“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”

“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”

You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.

“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.

You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.

The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.

Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.

It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.

But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.

You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.

Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.

Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.

It’s the damn nicknames.

Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.

My story weaver.

My star.

Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.

But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.

“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”

“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.

“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.

“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.

“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.

You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.

“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.

“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”

“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.

“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.

You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.

“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.

“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.

“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.

“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.

“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.

“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.

“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.

“But-“

“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.

It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.

Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.

“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.

“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.

“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.

“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.

“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.

Darling.

That was a new one.

“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.

He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.

“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.

“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.

“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.

“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.

“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.

You leave.

Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.

You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-

You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.

Until, of course, your captain finds you.

“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.

“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.

Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”

“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.

“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.

“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.

“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.

“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”

“Well-“

As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.

“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.

“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.

“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.

He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.

“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.

“Of course.” You answer automatically.

“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.

“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”

You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.

You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.

You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.

You weren’t his anymore.

Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.

It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.

Stupid how you realize these things too late.

Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.

You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.

It’ll pass.

Someday.

But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-

You sounded like a child didn’t you.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.

“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.

“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.

“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.

“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”

“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”

A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”

“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).

“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.

“Great.”

“Good.”

There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.

“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.

“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.

Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.

You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.

It didn’t work.

Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.

You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.

“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.

“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.

“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”

There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.

“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.

You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.

If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.

But you didn’t.

You know when you’re not wanted.

Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.

It’s easier that way.

A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.

You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.

You were getting better.

You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.

The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.

It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.

It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.

The sound of wood breaking.

You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.

You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.

Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.

The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.

You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.

Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.

You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.

Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.

“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.

“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.

“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.

“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”

Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you’re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.

If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.

You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.

“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.

Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.

“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.

He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.

The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”

Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”

“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.

“You-“

“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”

He gets to the door before your words stop him.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.

“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.

“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.

“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.

“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.

“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”

The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”

“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”

You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.

You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.

You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.

“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”

Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.

“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.

He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”

You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.

“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.

He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.

“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.

His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.

“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”

“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”

His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”

You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“

“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.

“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.

All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.

“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.

“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.

“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.

You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.

“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.

He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.

He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.

You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.

“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.

“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.

“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.

“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.

You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.

“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”

“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.

“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“

Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.

“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.

“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.

You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.

“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”

“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.

“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.

[wafywaify]

continuing the shen yuan street singer au because it's been eating my brain ever since I posted the first part. part 1 incase u missed it!

--

Okay, this could've gone a whole lot worse!! But he has some leeway here!! Look.. as long as he just keeps singing.. he cant come up to him..? Its rude to ruin a performance, everyone knows that! Surely if he just.. goes on for a few more songs the protagonist will get bored and leave!! Nobody cares that much. ..right?

Finishing off his fifth song, Written in your heart, by of course, barbie princess and the pauper, he huffs a few breaths before opening his eyes. He hadn't even realized he had closed them. He looks up to see.. Binghe.. still staring at him. Unmoving. At this point, hes unable to stop the small scowl from forming on his face. And its clear Binghe catches it, with the way he perks up an eyebrow. Why is he even still here!? He can't be that upset, can he?

A shiver runs down his spine at the imagining of.. whatever binghe wants with him. Probably some type of scathing revenge for blowing him off so easily. He looks around the crowd, just now noticing almost more than half had already left! There were really only a few stragglers and.. him. The tip jar he set on a stool was almost full.

Apparently, he'd paused for a bit too long.. the rest of his crowd were leaving!! Wait, no!! Don't leave me here with the emporer!! Oh gods, he's totally dead. Goodbye cruel world! It was fun while it lasted..

With an admittedly rushed pace, he begins packing up his things and dumping his jar of coins into his satchel before throwing it over his shoulder. With a swish, he turns back around, ready to all but sprint to the exit if he has to, before hes fully stopped with a hand to his shoulder. A very strong, very big.. very.. very handy hand. A hand that most definitely will... tear off limbs. He can feel his entire body stiffen and he winces, bracing himself before looking up.

"Yes, my lord...?"

Thank the gods his voice didn't falter! If it had he might as well have buried himself before binghe had the chance to.

It seems like time had stopped then. Binghes eyes roamed over his face for a few before smiling. A chill runs down his spine.

"You have an interesting voice."

...what?

"Ah- uh.. thank you, my lord.." He mutters out before he can stop himself. This wasn't at all what he had thought would happen. Perhaps he's just trying to get a good read on him? To see if he's even worth his time????

Binghe just hums before.. turning around and leaving? Just like that? So.. was he really not here for him, then? Did he really just want entertainment..? At a bar..? He stays still in place, watching the taller man walk towards the exit. He stops, placing a hand on the door before looking back.

"Next time, don't ignore this lord." He huffs out, voice somehow teasing yet still.. threatening. A clear undertone there. "I won't be as lenient."

Ah, there it is. He is totally fucked.

--

oki thats all for now!!! I rlly hope yall like this au as much as I do loll. I'm definitely going to continue this and post little snippets about it here and there!! If/when I start actually writing it as a fanfic, should I post chapters as I go or just wait till its fully finished to post??

[honnelander]

I CAME AS SOON AS I SAW THE POST

can we get a little snippet of go fish!reader maybe reading Pride and Prejudice aloud to Zoro after he had been struck down by Mihawk, like how Nami did, and Sanji over hearing and just staying by the door to listen to her read or something? i think a little blurb like that would be so cute

AHHH CUUUUTE!! i modified this a bit to have it fit into the overall story's timeline. instead of Zoro being struck down by Mihawk, he's sick and bedridden. thank you for this :))

here's go fish!Sanji listening to you reading:

masterlist

"Ohhh Zoro," you quietly squealed, trying your best to keep your voice down from disturbing a very ill and bedridden Zoro from waking. "Are you ready for this? Oh my god, this is another one of my favorite parts," you gushed, sighing dreamily as you put your very loved and well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice on your lap before hurriedly picking it up again to continue reading aloud to your friend in his room.

"I'm in love with you, most ardently," you read, voice quiet enough and full of wistfulness.

As you continued to read the story, your voice going up and down in excitement as you read the scene aloud, Sanji could hear your quiet gushing from the hallway. He was carrying a small tray of food, two bowls of his special homemade chicken soup sitting right in the middle, one for Zoro and another for you since he knew you'd spent all afternoon reading to the sick swordsman and figured you must be hungry by this point as well.

With careful steps, he silently stood right behind the doorway as he listened to your soothing voice bring the words that were printed on the page of your favorite book to life with a small smile on his face. The blonde cook closed his eyes for a minute, letting the sound of your voice wash over him as he admired you without you ever knowing.

He leaned his shoulder on the doorframe right outside of Zoro's room, gently resting the side of his head against it as well, as his mind wandered for a second, getting lost in the story.

Apparently, it was the part in the story where Mr. Darcy was confessing his love to Elizabeth, but as he listened further, he realized that it wasn't the end of the story where they both confessed their feelings mutually, it was more in the beginning where Mr. Darcy's sentiments were one-sided and Sanji couldn't help but feel a sort of kinship with the fictional man.

While the situation he was in with you wasn't as dramatic as Jane Austen's creation (if there even was a 'situation', he thought dejectedly), the feelings he had for you were certainly real and very complicated.

Was he in love with you? He wasn't entirely sure, but he did like you, much more than a friend should. He had feelings that he only had for you, and no one else. Sure, he's come to love the rest of the crew and Nami too, but none of them could make him feel the things that he only seemed to experience with you.

Suddenly, he wondered how he would confess these sentiments to you one day. Would he pull a Mr. Darcy and just walk into your room one night, spilling out his heart's desires for you in a single breath because if he didn't, he might not have the courage to tell you otherwise? Telling you the thoughts that consistently plagued his mind, trying to sort them out aloud in front of you because they were driving him mad like poor Mr. Darcy? Or would he plan something out and take his time? Wait until he understood what he felt because he 'wanted to get it right'?

Sanji didn't know, it was too soon to tell... but what he did know was that if he stood out there loitering any longer, the soup would get cold and the chef in him would rather die than serve you something like that.

Coincidently, it seemed like the chapter had just ended, you letting out a lighthearted sigh as you softly commented to Zoro, "Ok Zoro, now wasn't that chapter just... extraordinary?"

"It certainly was, Missus," Sanji commented cheekily, suppressing a smile as best he could as he walked into the room.

"Oh! Sanji!" you gasped as your hand quickly covered your racing heart. "Jeez, you scared me." You watched as Sanji placed the tray of soups onto the nightstand. "Sorry. I, uh, didn't realize I was reading so loudly I attracted an audience," you said, your cheeks heating up slightly at the thought that Sanji had been listening to you for who knows how long.

"'Sorry'?" Sanji repeated, a slight frown on his face momentarily as looked down at the tray, glancing at you over his shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry for, my love." Once the tray was secured on the nightstand, he fully turned to face you, his hands in his pockets as he put on his most charming smile. "Now," he started smoothly, "I'm starting to think that maybe I should get sick so you can come and read to me in bed all day."

Sanji's smile only grew as he watched your face become even more flushed at his words.

You laughed slightly, eyes darting away from his as you asked, "Don't you mean when you're bedridden?"

There was a long pause, the silence becoming deafening at your question. You could feel the tension in the room become thicker the longer that Sanji stayed quiet. Your hands started to feel slightly clammy as your heart rate picked up.

You swallowed. "You know, instead of 'in bed'... since you'd be sick and everything?" you asked finally, as you mustered up the courage to look back up at Sanji from your chair.

At his expression, your heart skipped a beat. Sanji was still looking at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief (and sincerity?) and another emotion you didn't understand, a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but feel like Sanji knew what he said and that he had said it on purpose.

His crooked smile only deepened. "Sure," he agreed simply. "When I'm sick and ill, and completely bedridden." He blinked, inhaling a small breath as he looked down at his shoes for a moment before looking back up at you, a small questioning look in his eyes as he quietly asked, "And you'd do that? Come and read to me all day?"

"Of course," you answered without hesitation, frowning slightly at Sanji believing that you wouldn't do for even a moment. "I would do anything to help you feel better, Sanji."

Now, between the two of you, it was pretty obvious that Sanji was the smooth-talking flirt, with you never really outrightly flirting with him in the conventional sense, but wow, you might as well be labeled the biggest flirt in his mind because your kind, thoughtful words and gestures never failed to make his heart flutter and knees go weak.

And the way you would look at him, time and time again, whenever you would gently reassure him that yes, you did indeed care about him and that you never truly forgot him... it was enough for him to feel his heart nearly explode.

There it was again, your kind, thoughtful, and beautiful expression on full display for him as you looked up at him through your lashes.

And just like that, Sanji's fears were completely washed away.

He let out a slight laugh, turning his face to the side, his blonde bangs facing you to try and hide the very faint blush on his cheeks. "Aw, you're too kind to me, Missus." He looked back at you, his rosy glow fading slightly, however, his smile was still bright. "Thank you."

At seeing Sanji happy, you were happy. You returned his smile and with a slight teasing tone you said, "But I'll only read to you if you promise to read to me when I'm in bed, sick and completely bedridden."

The blonde chef laughed lightly again, partly because of your now little inside joke, but because the thought that you even had to ask him if he 'would ever do that for you' was completely absurd. Of course he would. He would've been reading to you from the moment you were awake and not feeling well, all the way until you were sleeping, and even then he would continue to recite the pages of the book you loved aloud while you slept, so your dreams and subconscious mind were filled with the sound of his voice well into the night.

Sanji would do anything for you. And you never even needed to ask.

But he didn't tell you all that, not wanting to freak you out with his intense train of thought, so he simply said, with a small smile and twinkle in his eye, "Consider it done."

From Sanji's right, the sound of bedsheets rustling caught both of your attention.

Zoro groaned, gingerly opening his eyes as he pulled his blanket closer to himself. "Ugh... waiter? What are you doing here?"

Sanji looked down at him, a hint of concern on his pretty features as he replied, "Ah, Mosshead, you're awake. I, uh, thought I'd do a little room service and bring some soup for you and y/n."

At hearing your name, Zoro opened his eyes again. "Y/n?" He slowly turned his head towards you. "What are you-" he started to ask but when he saw the book on your lap he groaned and covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow. "Oh don't tell me- you've been reading that garbage to me while I was sleeping this whole time?"

But you weren't offended by his question. Instead, you laughed. "If you mean masterpiece then, yes. You're right. I had just gotten to the good part too!"

Zoro shifted in his bunk, getting comfortable. "Well, by all means, keep going," he deadpanned. In a more sincere tone he said, "I haven't slept this good in a while." But then, with a ghost of a smile, he added, "Your book is so boring it puts me right to sleep."

"Hey, a win is a win," you laughed joyfully. You looked up at Sanji for a second, wanting to share your little moment of happiness of Zoro wanting to continue reading with him.

But Sanji was already looking at you, eyebrows raised in surprise and a disbelieving closed-lipped smile on his face. His smile only grew at seeing the happiness you radiated, his eyes scanning over your face. "Well, in that case," he started as he made his way towards the door. "Let me excuse myself then. I wouldn't want to get in the way of your storytime, Mr. Mosshead."

As Sanji left the room and stepped out into the hall, he could hear you giggle at his 'Mr. Darcy' joke while Zoro grumbled, a sweet sense of satisfaction coming over him.

But before he went back to the kitchen to start on tonight's dinner prep, he loitered outside of Zoro's room again, leaning against the doorframe like he did moments earlier, out of view, so could listen to you read once more for a bit, a small, wistful smile on his face.

taglist: @smolracoon25 @shadydeanmuffin @cherrypie5 @sauceonmyshorts @hhighkey @gimmebackmyskeeball @he4vens-ang3l @selcouthaesthetics @chexmixtrys @princettecharlie @amitydoodlez @abracarabbit @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @mischiefmanaged71 @asianfrustration13 @shuujin @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @browneyedhufflepuff @stevenknightmarc @deserticwren @detectivelucy07 @yarnnerdally @timeladyrikaofgallifrey @miloonmetis @fa1rybubbl3z @feelinmatcha @ivonarfsh @facelessfionna @rosemaplefairy90 @littlefishswimmer @vinskyspuff @truebluesanji @antrenna @raythecomputerart @ohsilk @galaxy-pirates @christinaatyourservice92 @svnwcn @olliesoxenfree @taro-gabi @daydreamer-in-training @uncomfortableshoelace @yuriwk @buggy0827 @laviiv @notasgard @sallydelys @genlovesdcb

[messiahzzz]

You’re one of the most annoying people on this site. And that really says A LOT because WOW! Shut the Fuck up about Gale wanting to be a father or not. He never says that he doesn’t want to be one. You projecting things onto him doesn’t make it Canon.

on a serious note: i’m certainly not the one that continuously brings up this topic unprompted. i personally really don’t understand the entire controversy around the topic or why fandom feels the need to rehash this conversation almost weekly. i truly believe that there’s nothing more of value to learn from it, to address, or add to it… yet fandom won’t let it rest.

to once again clarify: what i mean by “gale wanting to be a father isn’t canon” is that there is no evidence/neither hints anywhere in any of the dialogue that support the contrary. characters like h*lsin, w*ll and la*’zel have entire adoption subplots. all of them mention their children explicitly during the epilogue:

narrator: *your soul warms thinking of lily aurora ravengard, your adopted daughter. a treasure of a girl, found at the entrance of the open hand temple - one grey eye, one brown.* w*ll: ah, the girl could melt the staunchest heart. she might even have brought a smile to old withers' face! w*ll: but tonight is for us - and lily's only four months of age, besides. i promise, the temple will keep her in good care.

player: and our little hatchling? is he safe? la*'zel: of course. i have complete trust in our newest allies. xan is in fine hands tonight. la*'zel: what a wonder he is. he will be a fine warrior, if he chooses. or a poet, or an explorer, or a scholar.

h*lsin: being away from it... i cannot help but worry how they will fare in our absence. player: we'll be back before they know it. h*lsin: i hope so. the children shall miss their bedtime tale tonight - though perhaps i can glean a few new stories from our friends here, to make up for it.

even shad*wh*art has a line where she briefly mentions that children might be a possibility for her in the future.

shad*wh*art: and i get to see my parents almost every day - i need to make every moment with them count, after so much was stolen from us. but they're doing well, [...] shad*wh*art: who knows? perhaps they'll have grandchildren before long.

gale in comparison? he has none of that. he remains childfree during the entirety of the game + epilogue. in fact, his line in the epilogue that addresses the topic of grandkids is this one:

tara: this is why mrs. dekarios and i will be waiting an eternity more for grandchildren. nodecontext: self-pitying gale: psst! shoo, tara. nodecontext: shooing away tara like one would a naughty cat.

i already wrote a post about this entire discourse here [x] but to repeat myself once more: all of the dialogue that vaguely addresses the topic of children in any way in regards to gale are these snippets

player: gale… how would you feel about having another person in our relationship? gale: what, like a child? i’m not quite sure i’d consider myself father material, plus our current lifestyle isn’t exactly what i’d call settled…

gale, upon spotting oliver during their game of hide and seek: ah, i have you! just a shame i don’t want you.

gale treating the children the group comes across with respect isn’t an indicator either. this is a courtesy gale extends to everyone he meets. he’s a character that approves of a protagonist who systematically commits good deeds. whether it’s sparing animals, helping without compensation in mind, or aiding children. wanting children to be cared for… and you know… for them not to die is common etiquette that every adult should extend to a child in need. those are not “dad goals!!!” it’s quite literally just basic human decency. gale is genuinely kind and caring to everyone he meets, there is no reason why this also wouldn’t apply to children.

i often see fandom mention his encounter with mol at last light and how excited he is to talk to her. which i think greatly misinterprets the context of the scenario since he didn’t have much of a reaction to mol before either — gale is ecstatic about lanceboard. again evident by his reaction to the party finding the life-sized board during the wyrmway trials, and how he immediately offers to give tav pointers. explaining different approaches to them in enthusiastic detail if they allow him to. the man just really likes lanceboard… as well as being the smartest person in the room.

gale: ah, lanceboard! why, this might just be the highlight of our misadventures to date.

gale: lanceboard happens to be a game with which i have more than a passing familiarity. might i offer a suggestion? nodecontext: gale's a badass lanceboard player, anticipating showing off

if you want to headcanon your tav and gale raising a big family together that is more than fine and no one is stopping you. whatever you want to happen to these two after the storyline of the game is up to your respective fantasies. no one is policing you on what you should do with your own character. go wild and create whatever fan content you wish, no justification required.

yet once again, as there is no mention in canon anywhere — neither in the main game nor the epilogue — that this is something gale would ever want (whether that may mean immediately or somewhere down the line) gale wanting to be a father remains a headcanon. while gale being childfree is explicitly shown in the game, in strict comparison to other companions that either have children by the end of the game or voice the desire to (eventually) have them.

my personal preferences are of no relevance here whatsoever. i care about accurate and correct characterization and will point out inconsistencies/false information no matter the topic. i, for one, want to appreciate these characters in the way they're written, not how i ideally want them to be.

[buckysxgal]

I'd Let The World Burn - Eustass Kid x Reader

Picture I got from Pinterest - It's a screencap from One Piece

Summary: Just a little snippet of you and Kid during the Raid of Onigashima.

Word Count: 870

Details: Set in Wano Arc (specifically in Onigashima). Established Relationship. this is during the Big Mom fight. Kid saves the reader (and Nami, Usopp, and Otama by association). Kid calls reader 'Doll'. I tried to keep specifics about Reader (gender, race, etc.) out, if i missed something please let me know and I can fix it! I want this to be readable for EVERYONE. I listened to LET THE WORLD BURN by Chris Grey while writing this.

Also posted on AO3

Floral Banner and Support your Creators banner from @saradika

“WHERE ARE THEY?!” A voice bellowed out. The voice could be heard all throughout Onigashima. Currently, I was running with Nami, Usopp and Otama through the hallways of the castle. 

“Who the hell was that?” Nami said, startled, looking around for a person to match the voice while we ran. We turned right down another hallway only to bump into Big Mom again. She was now targeting Otama because she was ‘going against her’ by running away from her with us.

“I don’t think we have time to question that Nami.” I said while pointing up to Big Mom who was gearing up to attack. “What should I do about the ones I hate?” Big Mom started, speaking to her sword, the cloud and the sun floating around her. “I should kill them!” She screamed, lifting her sword up to strike.

Nami held the child closer to her body, and Usopp fell to the ground with a shout. I stepped closer to Nami and Otama, spreading my arms out and bracing myself with my eyes closed. Nami, Usopp and Otama’s screams were suddenly drowned out with the sound of metal scraping together. I looked up in awe, seeing my lover’s metal arm shooting out above us and hovering it in front of Big Mom’s face.

“You’re…!” Big Mom started before Kid attached his arm to her face and lifted and slammed her into the floor, cracking the floorboards with a call of Punk Gibson. His figure outlined appeared in the dust behind us as we all turned around to face our savior. Big Mom’s ally, the cloud that she called Hera, flew over to her asking if she was OK as she sat up.

“Kid!” Big Mom growled out. Kid came to a stop in front of us. Nami and Usopp let out simultaneous breaths of relief.

“Captain Kid!” They shouted, tears of joy and stars in their eyes.

“Go away, Straw Hats. This bastard…” Kid lifted his metal arm once more, metal from around the room latching onto his arm.

“Is my prey!” He continued. I smiled up at him as he looked down on me from my spot behind Nami, Otama, and Usopp, now noticing that I was here. He blinked a few times, staring at me processing my presence. 

“I’ve been looking for you all over.” He stepped closer to us and held out his non-metal arm beckoning me over. I stepped around the group and got closer to him. His hand came up to caress the side of my face, his thumb sweeping across my cheek.

“You hurt Doll?” He said gruffly. I shook my head ‘no’ and allowed him to press his forehead to mine. He stayed liked that for a moment before pulling away and shoving me behind him.

“Stay out of the way, Doll. I don’t want you getting hurt.” He muttered over his shoulder. I beckoned Nami, Usopp and Otama closer to me, stepping back from the fight. We started to run towards the performance hall I turned to look behind me and saw Kid cracking his neck gearing up to fight. 

“Kick her ass babe!” I yelled as I turned back to face Nami and Usopp. Nami looked over her shoulder to me and smirked at me.

“Doll?” She giggled.

“S-shut up.” I muttered as my cheeks grew hot. 

Time Skip to after the Raid - still on Onigashima

We had watched Kid and Trafalgar Law fight from a room off the performance hall. As soon as they cast Big Mom down that hole the two pirate captains fell to the ground, exhausted.

I ran down the steps towards where Kid was laying on the rubble. Nami, Otama and Usopp followed me, but stopped to fall in with the crowd surrounding the two exhausted pirate captains.

“Kid!” I screamed out, flinging myself onto his body, letting sobs wrack through my body.

“Please don’t scare me like that.” I whispered as I  let my hands curl into fists in his red fur coat. His non-metal arm came up and rested on the back of my head, stroking my hair as the sobs lessened. I could hear murmurs in the crowd, namely from the other pirate crews, wondering who I was.

“Don’t worry Doll, I ain’t going anywhere.” He whispered, placing a kiss against my hair. I smiled and lifted my head to look up at him. He sat up, lifting me with him and keeping me on his lap as he looked over me, assessing me for any injuries.

“What’s this?” He asked, pointing towards the scratch on my cheek. I lifted my hand towards it, remembering what happened.

“We were running from the fire, and I leaped out of the way of a burning piece of wood, landed on the floor, not gracefully, and scuffed my cheek.” I chuckled. He let his thumb graze it gently.

“I’m glad you made it out of this alive, Y/N.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, bringing me into his embrace again.

“Well of course Kid, can’t leave you behind can I?” I said, smirking up at the man, who returned the gesture. He placed a small kiss on the side of my forehead.

[hergrandplan]

Nina!!! I feel it is my duty as your enable to ask about Breaking Beds please <3

im wondering if you like. Know what this fic is because you know the premise but idk if i ever mentioned the working title to you... which. honestly I do think I did

very enabler of you indeed

SO . Breaking Beds. my current Big WIP (I have two I'm actively working on, one is a small one-shot, the other is.. this beast of a fic). A title that's btw definitely going to change because even though I got it from a song lyrics, every time I see it I think about Breaking Bad. Very different vibe.

They made their way down to the dining room after Minou called them, Simon falling into step beside Wille. "So… you just live here?" he said, while shamelessly eyeing the portraits they walked past. Wille chuckled. "No, me and Ilse, my fiancee," he clarified when he saw Simon's confused look, "have a house in [rich area]. I won't move here until I become king, and even then I'm planning on keeping my house as an official residence." Simon gave nothing more than a hum, and they continued to walk in silence. What did Simon see, walking through these halls? A lavish display of wealth? A poor use of tax-payers' money?

GOD im even more scared to mention the plot of this one than I am to talk about the Fic that is a Rewrite that I posted about just now but don't want to fully admit what it's a rewrite of yet. but fuck it I posted a snippet of this fic on Sunday, it's happening we ball

BASICALLY this is a fic that kind of came about after listening to Gemini Moon by Reneé Rapp one too many times, and also writing a ficlet based on it. It's an idea I've been playing around with in my head for actual ages, that basically comes down to: what if Wille didn't realize he was queer until he was in his late twenties? And what if he has a fiancee? Who he genuinely loves? And what if the reason he realizes he's queer is because he meets Simon, the author of his biography, and in getting to know Simon and talking about himself so much, he slowly finds out that ... oh. he's not straight at all.

Now this sounds all fine and dandy, but the reason I'm scared is because I'm employing a lot of less standard things. Like... actively cheating. That kind of thing. But I have always been intrigued to write a more messy kind of story, the explore the messiness of humans because damn, we can be messy and why should Wilmon be the exception? It's very interesting for sure and I love writing it but damn if it doesn't also scare me to actually post it lol

Ask me about my WIPs