#there was absolutely no reason for her to break in

[nathaslosthershit]

Emotional Times (OP81)

Summary: Pregnancy was a time full of hardships. Hormones on high, stress of the incoming baby, and all the sudden changes were what this father-to-be was expecting, ready to face. What he wasn't expecting was having to battle his pregnant wife's newfound sensitivity to everything that could have her emotions changing in an instant Part of my summer event!

It has been a rough time in the Piastri household. Oscar loves his wife, he really does, and god, would he move heaven and earth for her. In her current state though, she doesn’t know whether she wants heaven or earth and if he brings her the wrong one she will burst into tears, but if he brings her the right one, she will also burst into tears.

There wasn’t any winning. During moments like that, he just had to remember that greener grass on the other side. The other side where he finally has his own little family. 

The couple had also both made peace with the fact he would be traveling a lot during the season and she would have to spend some of her pregnancy by herself. It was easy while she could travel in the beginning but a few complications cut her ability to do so off much sooner than the two would have liked. And she did not like this. 

“Honey, please, get back in bed.” Oscar begged at 5 am. He was ready to head off to his next race, when he unintentionally woke his very pregnant wife up after giving her a kiss on the forehead.

This made her frustrated, she had finally gone to sleep after spending so much of the night tossing and trying to turn and the minute she drifts off he has the audacity to-

Then she realized he kissed her on the forehead because he was leaving her. 

Now, she was holding onto him by the front door, in absolute tears at the thought she would have to do another race weekend alone.

“Please, my love. It absolutely breaks my heart to leave you but I have no choice. Don’t make this harder for me…” Oscar tried to reason with her, but he was on the brink of tears himself seeing how much she wanted him to stay, realizing how much he wanted to stay. But he couldn’t.

“Oscar, I can’t do it, please it's so hard being here all alone. I know it's cliché but I can’t even tie my shoes. How am I supposed to do anything? How am I supposed to take care of a baby when I can’t take care of myself?”

He knew she wasn’t trying to guilt him into staying or make him feel bad if he did leave. These were real concerns she had voiced before. But he felt so helpless in this moment, almost as helpless as she felt constantly. 

The realization hit him, he couldn’t leave her like this. It was unfair to both of them. He had to do something.

“I will figure something out, don’t worry, Honey. Go back to sleep and when you wake up it will be much better, I promise.” He really shouldn’t promise that when he didn’t have a plan, but he couldn’t come up with one while she was sobbing into his neck and holding on for dear life.

With a few hiccups and a small nod, he wiped her tears and gave her a kiss as he left the apartment. 45 minutes later than he would have liked, hopefully the group he was sharing the jet with didn’t leave him behind. 

She already felt better when she woke up, having gotten hours of sleep, finally. It felt so good to wake up well rested and without that many aches. Nothing could bring her mood down.

Except when she couldn’t get in touch with her husband.

She knew he was traveling, that the minute his plane landed he was off to start preparing for the upcoming race. But no calls and no messages soured her mood real fast. 

She tried to shake it off, she went about her day trying not to dwell on it, trying not to send him threatening messages for not answering her the second she texted him. 

A call woke her up the next morning, well it was noon but she still wasn't pleased. Not till she saw who was calling.

“Oh sweetheart! How are you?” Nicole Piastri asked.

If there was one person she loved almost as much as her husband, it was his mother.

“I’m okay, haven’t heard from Oscar much, that asshole.” she grumbled.

“Oh I remember the days, that's why I have my twitter afterall.” Nicole said, making her laugh. It was sometimes a wonder how her husband was Nicole’s son. 

“Yeah well i-”

“Oh crap, honey, I have to go! But I’ll see you soon, okay? Hang tight!” Nicole said before hanging up.

She didn’t have time to dwell on the abrupt end to the call as a knock came from the front door. Connecting the two, she wobbled as fast as she could to the door, where her mother-in-law stood. 

And then she burst into tears.

“Oh, he told me you were going to do that but I didn’t know it would be that immediate,” Nicole said as she went to hug her. 

Through the tears and snot, she asked “Oscar? What do you mean?”

“He said he texted you, gosh, he is the worst at communication for someone who spends so much time on his phone,” she frowned at her daughter-in-law.

Quickly opening her texts, she saw he had messaged her a few hours ago:

Oscar: I told you I had a plan, just a few more hours, my love. I can’t wait to see you in a few days :) 

Thus the mother and daughter-in-law started their girls weekend. My god, it was exactly what she needed. As much as she loved her husband, this was 1000 times better than what she would have done if he was here. And despite how much she missed him, the weekend seemed to fly by. 

Oscar: How is she? I am only half an hour away.

Nicole: Currently napping, but she has been good! Relaxed and happy. Hasn’t even cried in the past few days

Oscar: Wow, I am almost offended she didn’t miss me more?

Nicole: She needed girl time, you couldn’t give that to her sweetheart. She also needed someone who actually knew how to correctly do laundry.

Oscar: Alright, mum, nice talking to you. I'll be back soon, please don’t turn my wife against me.

Nicole: 😉

Just as he did when he was leaving, Oscar unintentionally woke his pregnant wife up when kissing her on the forehead. Unlike when he was leaving, she didn’t get upset. She was too happy to see him that the thought hadn’t even occurred to her.

Holding him in a death grip, she recounted all she did while he was gone. She couldn’t really go out much at this point, so hearing his mom still found a way to make her weekend enjoyable was a relief. 

“I haven’t even cried over something stupid in a while!” She said as she finished her account of the past few days.

“I heard, I am glad you are feeling so much better, my love. I hated being gone but hearing you had a wonderful time makes me so happy.” He said as he began to tear up, thinking about how awful it was to leave. 

“Oscar, come on, just cause i'm not as emotional doesn’t mean you have to make up for it” She teased.

After pestering him about how his time away was, he remembered he had picked up something for her, and while he bought it thinking he would use it to stop her tears, why not just give it to her while she is this happy.

“I picked up your favorite,” he said as he reluctantly handed her the food he got, shuddering at the unusual combination she loved oh so much.

The sound of her son gagging as he watched his wife eat had Nicole coming into the room to investigate. The picture of her pregnant daughter-in-law, happy as a clam while she ate her food, and her son holding his nose and trying to stop himself from throwing up was a sight she committed to memory and knew she was going to bring up for years to come. 

“What have you got there?” Nicole asked, knowingly making Oscar gag again as he was reminded of the food combination.

“Cottage cheese and ketchup,” she answered. Instead of disgust, the couple was confused by the light bulb moment Nicole seemed to have.

“My goodness! That is what I craved with Oscar. Gross to think about now but I loved it then.”

“What! You never told me this?” Oscar asked, astounded he would be the reason his mom had to eat a combination that disgusted him so.

“I was saving it for the next podcast I did. Think I’ll have to talk about this moment too.” His mom teased. 

Rolling his eyes, he turned to his wife and immediately clocked in on the frown beginning to form.

Both mother and son had the same exact thought: Uh oh.

“You- you craved the same thing?” She stuttered out.

“Um, yeah? You okay, Honey?” Nicole asked, now on edge at the incoming storm.

Seconds of silence went by but were soon disrupted by the sounds of his wife’s cries as she took in the information.

“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you upset at that?” Oscar questioned as he went to rub her back in comfort.

“Its just- that is so sweet, and the thought that- that I could be having the same cravings, is just- I just-” His wife didn’t get to finish her sentence as more wails came out, followed by hiccuping.  

Nicole and Oscar looked at each other in alarm as they realized that this was most likely the consequence of a weekend with no breakdowns. They had a long night ahead of them. 

[lovedrruunk]

some rlly random Vi dating headcanons :3

A/N just finished this and realized almost all of these are negative traits LMAOO

Absolutely the type to constantly be eating your food and stealing off your plate. No 'please' no NOTHING... steals your meal like it's her god given right and won't even look at you. If you complain about it she'll give you the same excuses every time which are stupid reasons like "I'm literally helping you earn good deeds right now." or "I'm bulking up." and she'll be completely serious. "Fanum tax" no bitch Vi tax...

"Dark humor". What's funny to her isn't exactly funny to the general public so the shit she blurts out when she's trying to be funny 90% of the time is NOT... You two could be like about to jump from one roof to another and she'll casually go "What if you slip and fall and break both your legs" or the two of you go swimming and she's just like "What if there's parasites in this water" She'd be giggling to herself not realizing that you're literally about to tweak out.

Accidentally breaks stuff around the house. She’s so strong that she sometimes forgets her own strength. You’ll hear a loud crack, and when you rush over she’s standing next to something she’s just snapped in half looking guilty. "Uh, I swear it was already kinda broken." "Kinda?"

speaking of... DENY DENY DENY!!! Maybe Jinx was on to something because she's a SERIAL LIAR. Oh she snores like a ten ton truck? No she doesn't. She ate your last popsicle? Why would she do that? Her tongue's purple? You're seeing things. She makes a face when she lies? Nuh uh? She's making it right now? What are you talking about...

Turns every single thing into a bet (that she knows she'll win). Uses this as a trick to get you to do a chore she doesn't wanna do herself sometimes. Even when there's no prize or consequence she'll just randomly declare them for no reason. “Bet you can't go the whole day without kissing me.” She always regrets that one.

Loud as FUCK!!!!!!! Can't do ANYTHING quietly. Her waking up to grab a cup of water in the middle of the night sounds like a fucking slipknot concert and then she has the nerve to ask if she woke you up.

all for rn gn! :P

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P23 | i realised that day that she in fact had two

The ride to the bar was kinda tense. Mark knew it required more than a few sips of alcohol to loosen Yuno up. It must've been a shock to the guy. Yuno honestly thought of Mark as a brother, so Yuno's heart went still when he saw Mark wearing matching cardigans with y/n—his estranged sister that abandoned their father and Yuno himself without a second thought, betraying her family just like how her mother did.

When they got to the bar, a few shots in, only then did Yuno begin to speak again.

“Be honest with me, Mark—did you really see her again just recently? At that pop up coffee spot she ran?” Yuno asked, and downed another shot of vodka to prepare himself hearing the answer.

“Yes, Jae. It hasn't been more than a week since I met her again. I'm sorry if this cardigan made you think I had been dating her behind your back, but I wouldn't do that to you.” Mark sighed, signaling the bartender to refill his glass.

“It wasn't just the matching cardigans, Mark. You arrived at the lobby together, and she was smiling. Even without the matching cardigans, it looked like you just had a date.” Yuno decided to take a break from the drinking, self aware of his own high tolerance with alcohol.

“She was smiling?” Mark stilled, turning his head to look at Yuno for added clarity.

Yuno, sensing how Mark was taken aback with his statement, looked back at him.

“She was. You didn't notice that?”

“I was busy staring at you—your text gave me a fucking heart attack, dude. Besides, what is she smiling for? We literally argued just right before entering the lobby.” Mark scrunched his eyebrows, messing with his hair as he wondered the reason behind your smile.

“Really? Was it an argument or a bicker? Jesus—this probably means you never noticed the crush she had on you back then. Or maybe she still does have a crush on you—maybe that's why she smiled when you weren't looking.” Yuno chuckled bitterly, reminded of a past when his sister was still his sister, and not the spoiled stepdaughter of a wealthy man she was now.

The same spoiled rich kid he was living with.

Mark froze completely, setting his glass down on the counter. It felt like all of his memory of you was getting warped inside his mind, despite the fact of how much he had refused to remind himself of the time when he had been close to you. Not ever since you moved away to Gangnam.

“Oh, shit. You actually never knew that, did you?” Yuno's smile dropped after he saw Mark going blank at the reveal.

Mark looked like he was having a hard time coming to terms with the information, but at one point, he picked up his drink, and downed the whole glass in one go. After he set the glass back down on the counter, Mark shook his head, realising that him agonising over this sudden reveal was pointless anyway.

“Well, it doesn't matter, whether she had a crush on me or not, and if she still does. She already has two men that keep her entertained now, so—I don't find it attractive to be the third.” Mark snorted, placing his elbows on the counter.

Now it was Yuno's turn to go blank. When a sudden beat of silence halted their conversation, with Yuno now deemed speechless, only then did Mark realise his mistake. Sure, you and Yuno were estranged siblings, and haven't spoken to each for 5 years—but that wouldn't completely erase the fact that you were still siblings bound by blood, so what sane older brother would be nonchalant at the fact that their younger sister is being entertained by two men at once? Especially when Yuno didn't even know who those men were.

“What?”

Mark winced at his friend's absolute dumbfounded tone. He should've put a tighter lid on that info. Mark dropped his head and hung it low, quietly cursing himself at his carelessness.

“Mark, you can't just say that and suddenly go quiet now!” Yuno hissed, smacking on the younger man's shoulder.

“I didn't mean to say that! Look, me and Y/N were working on our bureau task together the other day and finished it by the evening. Y/N asked me to keep her company while she waited for her ride, and I only agreed because it was getting dark.” Mark explained carefully, and Yuno was all ears.

“A Ford truck pulled up—and it was these two dudes who looked like they were in their early 30’s. They offered to drop me off as a thank you for accompanying her—it was obvious that these two dudes were really close with her and protective over her too. Y/N had forgotten to bring her access card that day, and one of them gave her their spare access card for her unit.

Me and Y/N share some mutual friends, and apparently, her friends have some suspicions that she might have a sugar daddy…I realised that day that she in fact had two.”

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was weird to call them ‘shifts’. They weren't shifts, but in fact tasks—but it sounded shady to refer to them as receiving a job for the night. So that's why you and the crew referred to them as ‘shifts’—because receiving a text that reads ‘hey, we have a job tonight’ made it sound like you were involved with Seoul’s underworld as either a hitman or a drug runner.

However, it didn't mean your ‘shifts’ were any less riskier than actual underworld work—because your ‘shifts’ entailed you interrupting an underworld worker's job. Helping relocating and hiding a victim of Seoul's ruthless loan sharks was playing with fire, and helping the police in tracking down those lowlifes was a sure way to have a bounty placed on your head.

And that's why every time you're out on those nightly shifts, you always focus. You can't afford to get distracted while on the job since the victims depend on your crew to keep them safe. The adrenaline of knowing that those bastards might catch up to you would have you hyper focused and alert.

So when the job was done for the night, you'd crash out, and that was exactly why you were sleeping like a log in the truck's backseat on the way back as Geonwoo drove. They made a quick detour though, ordering some fast food through a drive-thru on the way. It wasn't the healthiest choice for a really late dinner, but it was all they had at the moment.

Woojin was the one that carried you on his back for tonight, only because Geonwoo had been the driver for tonight's shift. When they got to your unit, Geonwoo placed the fast food orders on the counter and took them out while Woojin placed you on the couch and shook you to wake you up.

“Kid, you need to wake up. Have your dinner first.” Woojin spoke in an exhausted tone, and you only woke up because your stomach was beginning to hurt from your gastric condition.

You groggily walked to your kitchen counter and began to unwrap your food.

“What time is it?” You asked flatly, mouth still full of food and some even splattered on your counter as you spoke.

Geonwoo sighed and wiped your mess away with a tissue, “It's barely 1 a.m.”

“We left at 8 though.”

Woojin pinched your cheek when more food pieces splattered on the counter, “Stop talking while eating, dumbass. At least swallow it first.” He sighed shallowly, “Geonwoo stopped for a moment because he was getting leg cramps.”

“I see—”

Suddenly, all three of you heard your door unlocking. When you snapped your heads to see who it was—it turned out it was Yuno coming back from drinking with Mark.

Your older brother froze when he saw you eating with two older men he didn't recognise.

Were these the sugar daddies Mark talked about?

A beat of silence, then—

Geonwoo walked up to Yuno, and Woojin followed suit while you were left at the kitchen counter, your sleep-addled brain processing what was happening.

Geonwoo stretched out his hand with a tight smile on his face, “Nice to meet you, you must be Y/N’s new roommate. I'm Kim Geonwoo and he's Hong Woojin—we live right next to your unit.”

Yuno's reminded of what Mark said—

“You know, when I asked Y/N about them, she said they were her neighbours. That kinda put me off a bit because these guys were really closer to Y/N than I initially thought.”

Yuno shook Geonwoo's hand. Geonwoo's smile widened when he felt Yuno tight's grip.

“I'm not just her roommate—I’m her older brother. Nice to meet you two, my name's Jeong Yuno. The gamjajeon from this morning was delicious.”

Yuno's smile was anything but friendly.

prev | masterlist | next

A/N : yuno thinks he's acting tough but all he's doing is making a fool out of himself like—

also, the normal smau format will be reinstated in the next update y'all, so say goodbye to all these words on your screen 👋🏻

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

• taglist • [CLOSED]

@spiderm444rk @morkiee @xiuriii @solvrse @neozon3nha @herebyaccident0 @injunnie-lemon @mystverse @dearmonamour @v-6893 @sehunniepot @bee-the-loser @nessaassen02 @luluvhs @sunghoonsgfreal @docilismo @neocrashed @soobinbunnie5 @cigarettesafterjae @dudekiss3r @kittydollzz @urlocalbeaner5 @polarisjisung @conwunder @wonupuppy @jae-n0 @413ktz @kimsaerom @meowtella @aerivrs @swanyvess @morkleesgirl @sthwaaberry @leemoonna @grassbutneo @spicyryujin @koizekomi @sunflowerhae @markeroolee

[hannahbarberra162]

The Crocodile's Gambit (Croc x Reader)

on Ao3

The Crocodile’s Gambit  (1/2)

Croc x F!Reader

Fluff in this chapter, angst and fluff in the next.

WC: 3.3k

Summary: Crocodile needs a chess partner before he impales Buggy out of frustration. Again. He finds one in a most unlikely place. Set after the abolition of the Warlord system, right before Cross Guild is formed.

~~~

There were a few things that Crocodile missed about Nico Robin. The first being, she was incredibly competent. When Crocodile hired someone, he assumed they could do their job without being told how to do it. He didn’t want to have to micromanage anyone, especially grown adults. He loathed having to check in and make sure every step of a process was done correctly. He’d never had to do that with Robin, she was smart and capable. Anything he assigned her, she executed flawlessly.

But what he missed more than her competence was her chess playing ability. She was the only opponent within Baroque Works who had ever won against him. Her success rate was about 15%, which was significantly higher than anyone else Crocodile had played in years. Crocodile enjoyed winning chess matches but even more than that, he enjoyed losing them. He loved the challenge, the strategy, the simplicity, the complexity, everything about chess. And he especially loved it when he found someone who could best him.

Which made his stay with the complete idiot Buggy all the more intolerable. He and Mihawk were meeting with the Clown to determine whether a joint venture would be viable. After the absolution of the Warlord system, Crocodile had approached Mihawk for a business proposal. Crocodile had connections, money, and business acumen but didn’t like the spotlight. Mihawk had power and the reputation of the World’s Greatest Swordsman. Together, they could become unstoppable. Then, the question of the Clown arose. Buggy owed Crocodile a lot of money, Crocodile was ready to kill the Clown and be done with his foolishness completely. However, something the Clown had that neither of them did was a large loyal following. For whatever reason, the Clown’s crew were loyal to the death for their Captain. Any time the Clown docked his garish ship, he was greeted with fanfare and celebrations. There were waiting lists with hundreds of applicants, all waiting for a chance to be on Buggy’s crew. Crocodile didn’t understand why, but people were charmed by the Clown’s charisma.

Crocodile and Mihawk had been in negotiations with the Clown for a few days. It was slow going - each iteration of an alliance between the three of them had many stipulations and conditions that had to be discussed. Crocodile was fairly certain the venture would fail and he’d kill the Clown, but he kept his options open. After all, a dead Clown made no money at all. 

Crocodile was in desperate need of a good chess opponent, he felt his stress rising by the minute. Unfortunately, he knew he wasn’t going to find someone within the Clown’s ridiculous crew of idiots and low-lifes. Mihawk was a decent chess opponent, but the swordsman was rarely in the mood to play. Business dealings with the Clown left both of them irritated, and Mihawk’s outlet wasn’t chess. Each of them had their own room and office on Buggy’s ship, and Crocodile had his chess set sitting out at all times in his office, just like at home. He tried reviewing games he’d played against other opponents and playing against himself, but none of it was as entertaining as playing against another person. One morning before his meetings began, he moved a white pawn to an opening position on the board. He left for the meeting and forgot about chess for a few hours as he dealt with the Clown’s buffoonery and Mihawk’s recalcitrance. 

Returning to his office for an after lunch break, he was about to read the newspaper when he noticed someone had moved black, opposing his white pawn at e5. It had to be someone on the ship, but who? Mihawk had been with him in the meeting. Daz wasn’t a good player, he hadn’t played with Croc in years. No one from Buggy’s crew was smart enough, and Crocodile hadn’t brought anyone but Daz. Crocodile wasn’t concerned about someone infiltrating his office, but he was concerned about his growing boredom and irritation. If he didn’t find a good opponent soon, he’d probably kill the Clown before it was advisable. He decided to play the opening to the King’s Gambit, moving his pawn to f4, next to the first. Once it was time to leave for the next meeting, he knew whoever had moved the black pawn wouldn’t last more than 5 moves against him.

He was wrong. It was Crocodile who was now outclassed, outplayed, and outmaneuvered. Crocodile played delayed games against the mystery person as his meetings continued and hadn’t won a single match. Crocodile hadn’t lost this many games in decades, and he couldn’t have been happier. Crocodile returned back to his office after every meeting, eager to see his opponent’s next move. His opponent was ruthless, seeing through his plays, gambits, and traps with ease. He skewered Crocodile time and time again, to Crocodile’s delight. Every time he lost, Crocodile placed a gold coin under the black King, which was taken and the board reset the next time Crocodile returned. Crocodile wanted to know who he was playing with, but he was never able to catch the man in action, his office always empty when he returned.

Even though the negotiations were not going well, Crocodile was now having a wonderful time. He didn’t want the venture to end, he wanted to continue playing chess against his opponent. The Clown had noticed the uptick in Crocodile’s mood, asking for more ridiculous clauses in their contracts. It hadn’t helped the negotiations, but Crocodile hadn’t killed the Clown outright yet, which was saying something. Unfortunately, the time for reconciliation was coming to a close. Crocodile wanted to find out who the mystery opponent was and soon. He wanted to shake the hand of the man who had bested Crocodile so thoroughly and offer him a spot on his crew.

So Crocodile waited outside his office before his morning meeting. He wasn’t hiding, that would be childish. He was simply waiting in a concealed location to resolve an issue he was having. True, he could have waited in his office to see who the man was, but that would ruin the fun. And Crocodile hadn’t had fun in years. He would be late for the meeting, but it wasn’t going to be productive anyway, negotiations had stalled. The morning crew was coming in to clean his office - Buggy had a lot of useless staff (and a lot of overhead expenses) but Crocodile appreciated coming back to a clean office daily. He hadn’t really noticed them before, they were all part of the background for Crocodile. They were dressed like all of the other pirates who worked for the Clown - in ugly, lurid circus clothing. The various cleaners split off to their areas, with you entering his office to clean. You wiped down various surfaces, until you got to the board with Crocodile’s most recent move. You studied it for a brief moment, then picked up a black knight.

“What the fuck are you doing woman?” Crocodile recognized Daz’s voice. He must have been passing by, looking for Crocodile.

“Cleaning,” you replied, irritated by the interruption. You put the piece back down where it was previously, to Crocodile’s disappointment.

“Didn’t look like cleaning to me. Leave the Boss’s chess set alone unless you want trouble.” The maid was unconcerned by the threat, rolling her eyes at Daz’s words. 

“Game’s over anyway, doesn’t matter,” you muttered. Crocodile’s interest was piqued, was this slip of a woman his opponent? He watched you flip off Daz behind his back as he walked away. You bustled around the office, cleaning once more. As he watched, thinking you may be his opponent, he appreciated your form. You were graceful in your movements and meticulous in your work, and he found you beautiful in an unconventional way. The more Crocodile watched you, the more he realized how attractive you were. The hideous circus clothes you wore didn’t help, you had a huge orange scarf wrapped around your neck. But he saw your immense potential if you wore something less…flashy.  It didn’t take you long to finish cleaning, and before you left the room, you moved the black knight, putting Crocodile in checkmate. Crocodile ran his hand through his hair, smiling wickedly.

~~~

After his next meeting, Crocodile cleared his schedule for the rest of the day. He didn’t really care about anything the Clown had to say right now. He was far too interested in his little chess opponent to bother with anything else. He sat in a plush armchair, smoking a cigar, waiting for the time the cleaning crew came in. Around lunch time, you carried your cleaning supplies into the room. You immediately noticed Crocodile sitting in his chair and you started to back out of the room.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll come back -” 

“You’ll sit down,” Crocodile intoned, blowing billowing smoke clouds into the room. He gestured to the board in front of him. “Do you know how to play chess?” he asked. He knew you did, he was just curious what you’d say. You were a confident, aggressive chess player, and he wanted to see if that crossed over into your regular personality.

“I do, but I have to -”

“You’re dismissed from your duties for now. Sit. I won’t ask again.” You were a little nervous, but set down your cleaning supplies and sat across from him on another comfortable armchair. You perched on the end of the chair, like you were getting ready to run at a moment’s notice, fiddling with your scarf. Crocodile switched the board, you were now white.

“Go ahead. Start,” he drawled at you, blowing smoke. Your eyes flicked from the board to Crocodile, wary of the situation. Things weren’t completely genial between Crocodile and your Captain, surely you felt the tension on the ship. But you played, moving your pawn to f4. Crocodile parried, moving his pawn to e5, countering your opening. You played your turn, and by the time 15 minutes were up, Crocodile was in checkmate again. 

“Checkmate,” you said, leaning forward to stand up. Maybe you wanted to get back to work or maybe you wanted to get away from Crocodile, but neither was going to happen.

“You’re not dismissed,” Crocodile growled, steepling his hand against his hook, pleased with the match. “So, it’s you. You’re my opponent. You’re quite skilled at chess,” Crocodile observed.

“Yeah, it’s me. Do you want your coins back or something?” you replied. You were a little rough around the edges, Crocodile thought, but he could fix that. When you joined his crew, he’d work on your social skills outside of the chess board.

“No, you may keep them, you won them. I would like to make a proposition. I want to play chess with you tonight in the evening. Three games. If you win two out of three, you get 100,000 Beri.” Ideally, you’d play chess with him all day every day, but he would take things one step at a time. 

You narrowed your eyes, fiddling with your scarf. “What if I lose?” 

Crocodile leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. He spread his hands magnanimously, like he was granting you a favor. “If you lose, you have to join my crew and leave the Clown.”

You pursed your lips, thinking over his deal. “200,000 Beri,” you bartered. Crocodile smiled, enjoying your evident self confidence. 

“150,000 Beri per night, 50,000 Beri bonus if you win all three rounds,” he countered. You agreed, shaking his hook with your hand. You were either self assured in your ability to win, or didn’t mind leaving the Clown. Either way, you’d be coming with him when he left.

~~~

Crocodile was down 1,000,000 Beri and no closer to getting you on his crew. He knew you were good, but he hadn’t anticipated you were that good. Crocodile loathed losing money, but in this instance, he didn’t mind handing it over night after night. He thought that playing face to face would increase his chances of winning, but that wasn’t the case. You were even sharper when playing with him in person rather than delayed over the course of hours and days. You were a good sport about winning, and you didn’t gloat. You also took the time to explain your thinking when Crocodile asked you about your thought processes. You did, however, have a crass mouth that Crocodile didn’t care for. 

“Sucks to suck,” you replied after Crocodile complained you ended a game too swiftly for his liking.

“Do not speak to your superiors that way,” Crocodile snapped. He was peevish after having lost three games in under an hour.

“If you’re my superior, why do I keep collecting your Beri?” you said impishly. Crocodile nearly smiled at your antics.

“Speaking in such a coarse manner makes you seem less intelligent than you truly are,” Crocodile stated. He hated to see you present yourself like the common boors that made up the rest of the Clown’s crew. You gave him a bored look. 

“Give me my pieces and I’ll play you again,” you said. Crocodile was interested in playing a fourth round against you but knew you were trying to change the subject. He picked up your knight he had taken and held it out to you in his hand. You reached for the piece but he closed his hand before you could retrieve it.

“Hand me my pieces, please,” he said. 

“Hand me my pieces, please, Sir Crocodile.” You rolled your eyes, but dutifully repeated the phrase. Crocodile smiled at you, and opened his hand once more. You took the knight, your fingers brushing against his palm. It was the first time you’d made physical contact with each other. Crocodile wanted more. 

You didn’t let Crocodile win or handicap yourself when you faced off, you always played to win. So when Crocodile won his first game, he was over the moon. He was certain you were tired when he’d won, you almost nodded off once during the game. Crocodile was concerned for your wellbeing, and it tarnished his feeling of victory. He was…worried.

“Is the Clown working you too hard? Why are you so tired?” Crocodile queried as you yawned into your hand.

“Someone is making me play chess at night after work,” you replied.

“Please, you’ve been making more than you’d earn in a month in under an hour,” Crocodile scoffed. The games between you didn’t take that long, the Clown must be putting undue stress on you. He’d…fix that for you. You hummed, resetting the board for the third game. Crocodile had enjoyed winning, but didn’t want to play if you weren’t at your best. “Let’s end early tonight. Go rest.”

You looked up at him, unsure of what to do. “But it’s only been two games, and I lost one. If I lose the next one -”

“It is my idea to conclude early, therefore you will not be bound to the usual rules. Go to bed.” Crocodile waved his hand, dismissing you. 

“Thank you, Crocodile,” you said softly, lingering by the door for a moment. It was the first time you’d thanked him without his prompting.

As the days went on, you seemed to enjoy Crocodile’s company a little bit, not bolting immediately after he paid you your Beri. You had a keen wit and were able to counter Crocodile’s acerbic remarks with ease. It was obvious to Crocodile early on in your conversations that you were not well read, something else Crocodile wanted to amend. Crocodile loaned you a book about ancient Wano battle theory, asking you to read it as it would improve your chess playing. You returned it the next day, saying you read the entire work. Crocodile questioned you about the contents of the book, trying to see if you had just skimmed it or were lying. But you were able to answer his questions and provide your own insight into the strategies listed.

“What did you think about the treatise on aggressive methods of battle?” Crocodile asked. He had found a lot of useful thought exercises in the book. Having read it in his youth, it had become a cornerstone for his own strategy in becoming a Warlord and businessman. 

“In chess? I don’t necessarily agree that aggression should be the foremost method of attack. Aggressive moves only work if it's balanced with knowledge of your opponent. If you don’t know who you’re dealing with, things may not work out the way you planned,” you said while moving your Queen to check Crocodile. Crocodile hummed in agreement. You were clearly intelligent, Crocodile just had to provide you with direction. He knew people were not given the same opportunities in life and was happy to supply you with some. 

To that end, Crocodile was now taking an interest in your formal education. He loaned you book after book, and you read them all, sharing your opinions and thoughts on the titles. You had interesting ideas, and Crocodile found himself sharing his own with you. You tended to like mysteries and fiction novels, but read anything Crocodile lent you. You picked up and assimilated new information easily and had unique ideas, things Crocodile would never have thought about on his own. Crocodile found himself sharing his favorite books with you, just to see what you would say.

He appreciated your personality outside of the chess board the more you spent time together. Crocodile tended to make people nervous, it was practically a pastime for him. However, after your initial encounter, you weren’t tense around him at all. You didn’t mince words, you said what was on your mind, even if you knew it would annoy him. You were honest, as far as he could tell, and generally well liked among your crew. He appreciated your looks, but that was secondary to your personality, a first for Crocodile. He even started to appreciate your circus outfits, always completed by a large scarf, no matter the weather. Even without your chess skill, he would have liked to bring you onto his crew. He was going to broach the subject tonight and ask you formally to leave the Clown. He knew you would agree. He was the better choice by a long shot. Crocodile had more money, more power, more influence than the Clown would ever have. He was smarter, stronger, and richer, there was no way you’d want to stay with a second-rate loser like the Clown. 

~

“Checkmate,” you said, moving a rook into place. You smiled at Crocodile, as he ran a hand through his hair. “By the way, that’s your tell.” Crocodile’s eyes snapped to yours. 

“What are you talking about? I have no tell,” Crocodile snarled. You smiled again. Anyone else would shortly have been drained of life, but Crocodile found you endearing. Cute, even. 

“It’s good to know your own tells,” you continued, undeterred by Crocodile’s outburst. “You run your hand through your hair when you are blindsided. If you can sense something is coming, you don’t. But if you are surprised, well, that’s your tell.” Crocodile paused, no one had shared that with him before. But perhaps no one had surprised him as frequently as you. 

“Speaking of surprises, I have something I’d like to ask you,” Crocodile drawled, lighting a new cigar. You were already preparing to leave after the completion of the third game. That was another thing, Crocodile found himself wanting to spend more time with you outside of your matches. Having you on his crew would help with that as well. You sat back down, watching Crocodile calmly, waiting for him to continue. “I’d like you to join my crew.”

“No.” You declined instantly and decisively. Crocodile ran a hand through his hair, scowling.

[kcaitlyn]

hc. how i imagine the yj girls in relationships. part 1 (pre-crash nat, van, tai, lottie. others in pt. 2)

A/N: fem!reader, nsfw references, but nothing crazy. mention of drugs, alc. ooc, possibly? not proofread well cause who has time am i rite, been a while since i've watched yj lol. if this does well, i might do a post-crash version..

NATALIE

𓇼 Your relationship with Nat would be 110% banter, no doubt about it. Teasing (in and out of bed), name calling, little pokes and bites are a constant for you two. I feel like she's not the best (intentionally or not) at being traditionally romantic, so instead of heartfelt declarations of love, you're more likely to receive a 'yeah, you're pretty cool' or a 'I suppose you're not too bad' accompanied by a grin and kiss instead. However, that's not to say she doesn't express her love in other ways.

𓇼 Skipping class to sit with her friends together at least once per day, and cramming a whole semester’s worth of notes together when her (and/or your) grades eventually slip. Although, I doubt much would get done..

𓇼 I feel like most of your dates or hangouts would be outside- not necessarily doing anything, just relaxing by a lake or on some random curb in Wiskayok to escape your families (mostly Nat’s) and just to catch a break from everything.

𓇼 When you are together at someone’s place though, it would be your house more often than her’s. Nights would consist of sneaking in through windows, trying to stifle giddy laughs and smoking on the rooftop of your home or her trailer.

𓇼 Natalie would 100% be sneaking you in and out of the school locker rooms, too. She thinks it’s a shame to waste such a private space, always pulling you in there to make out or just relax in-between periods (much to the rest of the team’s annoyance. They’ve actually started a petition to ban you).

𓇼 Natalie pretends not to notice, but deep down seeing you in the bleachers during her games always makes her mushy. Seeing you cheering for her, encouraging her- it only makes her play harder.

𓇼 She’s always super affectionate after games, too- running up to you and squeezing you, all sweaty and tired. The evenings after more often than not would consist of weed and cuddles, Natalie being the little spoon as you massage her sore muscles, laughing and talking about whatever comes to mind.

𓇼 Speaking of, if you’re down for it then Natalie would absolutely revel in getting high with you. Relaxing, sharing a blunt, cuddling, making out and letting her eat you out is an insanely common occurrence- her favorite way to spend her time. Sharing any drugs she got from her friends with you, yet her loyalty to you would never even come close to wavering even under the influence.

𓇼 This girl would be incredibly loyal. Natalie knows abandonment, she knows being fucked over by someone else- and never ever would she subject you to that on her terms. Although her communication may not be the best, and her temper’s far from perfect, she’ll always stick by your side.

𓇼 I feel like she’d be the jealous type, too. Fights and bickering between you two wouldn’t be far apart, but never serious- and always mended with tender cuddles, sex and apologies after.

VAN

𓇼 For some reason I have this feeling that pre-crash Van was super outdoorsy and adventurous. I can imagine her dragging you along to camping trips, hikes, time on the lake or just to spend time hanging out in nature.

𓇼 Definitely with her family, too. Van to me seems like her family and partner would come first in her heart, and would love to spend time with everyone together.

𓇼 Super playful. Van would be the type to always tease, always joke. You wouldn't be able to count on two hands the amount of times she's shoved a bug in your face, or chased you around with a spider.

𓇼 (Always met with soft chuckles and apologies, your face attacked with remorseful kisses and holding you for hours. Until she does it again.)

𓇼 Van would be very, very touchy and affectionate. Quality time and physical touch are 100% her main love languages, along with teasing meaning this girl cannot keep her hands off you. An arm around your waist or shoulder when you're out with friends, holding hands as you weave through trees, even pinkies or feet touching under a table in class. She can't get enough of you.

𓇼 Basically, Van's best comparable to a loving little dog- always at your hip, your biggest fan. Any sports you play, hobbies you indulge in- she's there to encourage you.

𓇼 And when you reciprocate at her matches, cheering her on proudly from the bleachers? You've probably had her so distracted and giddy that she's missed a few balls whizzing into the goal beside her.

𓇼 She would take you celebrating after her wins, to your most common date spot (and Van's personal favorite), the cinema. With Van, you'd be there at least once a week. What can she say, two of her favorite things? You, and movies? A chance to geek out together? Why wouldn't she insist you go nearly each day after school?

𓇼 Although, I feel like Van could be a little oblivious and dismissive at times. After unknowingly receiving flirting from some other girl at a party or unknowingly saying something that could be perceived as flirting when she was drunk, Van might be quick to wave it off as an accident. This could spark fights between you two, but quickly after seeing how it affected you Van would be quick to apologise and come to.

𓇼 (May I add that in those scenarios, she 100% turns into a service top, as part of the apology of course. Anything to make her girl happy.)

TAI

𓇼 Taissa’s definitely a more mature and slow paced partner compared to some of the other Yellowjackets, like Natalie or Lottie. Your relationship would be a lot more domestic than them, too.

𓇼 Sure, you and Tai would still attend parties together, you would get to support her at her soccer matches and do all the usual teenage stuff together. However, dates where you just co-exist the way adult couples do would be a staple in your relationship. Cooking together, tagging along to run errands, lazy Sundays in are common when you’re with Tai.

𓇼 Your relationship would also be very academic, too. Study dates, talking for hours about what career you strive for and how awesome everything would be after graduation. Revising together made fun, taking an item of clothing off for each failed cue-card or only getting a kiss if you can correctly recall something.

𓇼 Tai wouldn’t be down for PDA at all. She’d definitely be the type to be affectionate behind closed doors only, not just out of embarrassment but in favour of keeping her romantic and public life seperate (a fact that holds true especially as she gets older).

𓇼 Tai’s communication and openness is a strong point in your relationship, but I feel conflicts could stem from the idea she wasn’t intending to stay with you long run. Tai’s grand plans to leave for university, have her share of lovers- she was never intending your relationship to last past high school.

𓇼 However, after whatever fights or even temporary breakup ensues, Tai would realise that you’re worth more to her than a high school romance and that she can really see herself with you in the long run.

LOTTIE

𓇼 As long as you're with Lottie, you wouldn't lift a finger- let alone a credit card. She's got you covered.

𓇼 I feel like Lottie’s the type of partner to love just.. existing in the same vicinity as you. It majorly stems from her decent, but lonely childhood- parents always out of the house leaving Lottie by herself.

𓇼 But now that Lottie has you, any time she’s just at home alone- be it studying, training or just relaxing she’s always quick to call you over. Luckily for you two, you have all the privacy in the world alone in her large home to do whatever you please.

𓇼 Lottie’s primary love languages are 100% Gift giving, and quality time. Any time she’s out and sees some little trinket that reminds her of you, best believe she’s stealing buying it. On top of that, any chance to be near you Lottie takes. You’re running an errand? She’ll be there. Lottie’s heading to do some after school practice? You can come, and read a book on the bleachers or something. Just so you’re near. Just so you’re close.

𓇼 I feel like Lottie’s not too big on PDA, but doesn’t entirely hate it, either. Full on kissing or making out isn’t on the cards in your relationship, but linking fingers, holding hands or leaning against each-other is totally okay by her- whatever makes her girl happy. Another thing Lottie loves is sharing a headphone cord with you- or singing along loudly to music in her car. However, around her family Lottie would be colder and more reserved with her affection.

𓇼 Lottie wouldn’t necessarily flaunt your relationship like Jackie- but she wouldn’t be shy, either. If someone asks, they’d likely be met with a- ‘yeah, I’m with (y/n), she’s my girlfriend’, or something along those lines. She isn’t secretive about you by any means, just casual. Keeping you to herself. She wouldn’t be vocal about jealousy, either. Just clingy, or sad.

𓇼 I also have a feeling that since Lottie’s always had access to quality clothes, items and whatever else- having something with real sentimental value rather than monetary value would mean so much more to her than a regular gift. Little homemade keychains or a good luck charm is something I can totally see her carrying around with her, especially since it was made by you.

𓇼 Since all her meals were made by nannies, her room cleaned by maids, having you there to do all that with her really resonates deep inside Lottie’s heart. Having you there to teach her how to do the things she never had to learn- how to cook, wash her clothes, empty a vacuum- it means so much to her.

𓇼 I feel like Lottie can be a real tease, too. Cheeky banter back and forth similar to Natalie, except she’s better at expressing her love sincerely. It’s all situational with Lottie- teasing and cheeky, or tender and soft. No matter how she is, though- Lottie’s loyalty is made clear.

𓇼 Although, at times I think Lottie could grow distant and pull herself away from you when she’s overwhelmed, angry or tired. If you try and talk to her, she might get frustrated and say something she really didn’t mean- again, likely stemming from her family. However, once she’s cooled off, Lottie would do anything in her power to make it up to her partner.

𓇼 Little gifts, massages, fancy dates or just fucking you for hours- anything to pamper you, take care of you. On that note, Lottie’s totally a switch, but greater than that, a huge service top. She wants nothing more than to make you feel good, happy and safe.

𓇼 In terms of pet names, I feel like Lottie would steer away from the really corny and sappy ones, settling for a variant of your name or something simple like ‘love’ or ‘babe’. Study hangouts would also be really common between you two, and even more often than that just lounging around at her place or going to parties together.

[vickyvicarious]

24 of August:

Mina seals Jonathan's journal, kisses it, kisses him, marries him. Promises to honor to share his ignorance, unless there is solemn duty.

24 of September:

Mina not only breaks the seal and reads it, but types up his shorthand journal because there may be solemn duty.

It's her monthiversary gift. 😌📖

But really, she absolutely is honoring the vows she made. You mention the solemn duty, but there is another part to this:

...I would never open it unless it were for his own dear sake or for the sake of some stern duty.

She doesn't forsee a duty when she opens it. The reason she decides to open the diary is "for [his] own dear sake" - she realizes that she cannot provide him with the help he needs unless she understands what is haunting him so. It's not just going away with time, and she wants to help him better.

This is a clause she added in. Jonathan requested she share in his ignorance, but he did give her permission to read it whenever she wanted, and simply asked that she keep the secret from him unless needed:

Take it and keep it, read it if you will, but never let me know; unless, indeed, some solemn duty should come upon me to go back to the bitter hours, asleep or awake, sane or mad, recorded here.

When Mina sealed the diary, she told him outright that she would only ever open it under these two circumstances. She's narrowing the requirements down to exclude any kind of simple curiosity, making it clear that reading his diary is never going to just be about her. If she does so, it will be for him or for duty.

She reads it for him.

Only after reading does Mina begin to consider that there will indeed be a solemn duty attached to this. But she isn't sure yet. And Jonathan doesn't want to know unless he will have to be involved again. So for now, she doesn't tell him anything. She even wonders if she can meet whatever duty there may be by herself, or with others, and types up the contents to prepare for that possibility.. She is still honoring his wishes completely, because she doesn't know for certain that there is any solemn duty yet (she can read it for his sake or duty, but can only let him know for duty). But she's ready if there is.

[trippinsorrows]

I feel like this is another multiverse type question. But say Solana wasn’t in the situation she was in and Roman was very much so attracted to her as he is now. How do you think Roman would have approached her ?

this is such an interesting question!

hmmm.

under the read more cause this got longer than i intended lol

roman was bored, ready to go. functions were never his thing. he always attended out of obligation and necessity. never want. and considering he's been present for an hour, he more than feels he's done what he needed to do.

he pulls out his phone to text paul to have the car pulled for him, ready for his wise man to foolishly try to convince him to stay when a body collides into him.

soft is one of the first things to hit him followed by a sweet, vanilla almond scent that's more than pleasing to all of his senses. his arm naturally reaches to brace the person who collided with him, a person he right away knows is a woman, both by the soft curves of her body but also the fragrance.

"oh my god." the voice. so soft and sweet, almost too sugary, too angelic for such a function, full of the world's most dangerous people. such a stark contrast. "i'm so sor---"

she's silenced, and roman is momentarily taken back as the two of them lock gazes. beautiful, big brown eyes widened in alarm that's most likely due to her recognizing who he is. "mr. reigns...."

roman is partially paying attention to her words but mostly taking his sweet time taking all of her in. her face is absolutely stunning, and roman can tell it's not just because of the beautifully done makeup. he can see natural beauty beneath that. her hair is pulled up into a fancy updo, but her full lips snatch his focus before he rakes his eyes over her body, even curvier than he realized. cleavage on full display in her red dress that hugs her perfectly. she's a tiny little thing. a good foot shorter to him, but there's no denying it.

she's fucking stunning.

and she's still fucking apologizing. "i'm so sor---"

"it's fine." anyone else, and it wouldn't be. but there's something about this woman with the soft voice, light eyes, and alluring body that has him not as irritated as he normally would be. "it was an accident."

she nods, clearly nervous, when she looks over her shoulder, as if looking for something. or someone.

suddenly curious, he asks, "who are you--"

"oh no," she interrupts him, an unintentional thing, as she offers what looks like an apologetic look. she holds up the bottom of her red gown to move past him. however, roman finds himself moving his arm to bar her, holding her. he has to stop himself from thinking too much about the almost natural feeling he experiences in and with touching her.

"i---"

"there you are."

roman breaks his stare with the woman to see none other than ethan fucking page. he scoffs. no wonder she's running.

this bastard is insufferable.

page clears his throat and gives roman a nod. "mr. reigns, i apologize for the interruption." his gaze falls on the woman who almost moves closer to roman, practically holding onto him. it's obvious she's uncomfortable as hell. has to be for good reason too. "just need to speak to---"

"she's with me."

it comes out without much thought, both page and the unnamed woman looking at him with equal surprise.

page removes his glasses, looking at her, "solana?"

solana

unique. pretty. fitting.

she swallows. "i---" and just like that, she seems prepared to ruin this save roman has provided her, though he hasn't the slightest idea why he's giving her a save. yet, here he is.

"get lost, page." roman's tone shifts into something darker, something that's very reminiscent of the reason that he's easily the most feared man in the room. "i won't repeat myself."

i.e. get lost, or i'll snap your neck. an unspoken threat that's clearly understood, because page murmurs something that's probably an apology. and then he's gone, leaving roman alone yet again with this solana.

looking back at her, she gives him a small smile. roman is quickly realizing she's even prettier when she smiles. "thank you."

roman nods, asking, even though he doesn't know why, "what's the story?"

her smile drops into a frown that roman finds himself wanting to wipe off her face. "ethan....he doesn't know how to take 'no' for an answer." she shakes her head, scoffing quietly. "he shows up to my store at least once a week just to ask me out, even though the answer is always no."

"where do you work?" it's not that roman necessarily wants or even needs to know this piece of information, but there's a thought of breaking both page's knees and providing specifics when he does as such, such as the name of the place he's never to step foot in again, which could be....helpful.

roman is thankful when the smile returns, not as bright but still present. he'll take it. "i own a bookstore in town. nina's." his curiosity must be visible. "my mother's name. we share a love of books."

he makes a sound. everything he's learned in the less than twenty minutes he's known about this girl makes all the sense in the world. of course, her name is different, unlike any name for a woman he's heard of. of course, she has trouble fending off an asshole like page. and of course she likes books.

she clears her throat, finally breaking away. roman didn't even realize he was still holding her. "thank you again, mr. reigns."

"roman," he corrects. "call me roman."

she swallows, voice softening, "roman...."

he's not sure he's ever enjoyed hearing his name as much as he likes hearing it on her mouth. he'd love to hear it even more if she was screaming it, moaning it as he fucked her, kneading those beautiful, soft breast of hers.

fuck

"why are you looking at me like that?" she asks in that same sweet, almost innocent voice.

his eyes twinkle with mischief. "do you really need to ask?"

solana shifts bit, playing with her hands, hinting at some nervousness. "i'm not like that."

roman is almost certain he knows what she's saying, but he makes sure, regardless. "and what is that?"

her mouth shifts into a small smirk. "do you really need to ask?"

and for the first time tonight, roman smiles.

this girl is unlike any he's met before.

continuously intrigued, he asks, "what's your last name?"

she answers, "miller."

recognition dawns after a couple seconds for him. "xavier and nina...you're the daughter?"

he's always heard they had another child other than wesley, but he'd never seen her at one of these functions. didn't even realize it was a daughter.

a beautiful daughter at that.

she nods. "i don't typically attend these sorts of things."

"you should," he finds himself suggesting. roman isn't the biggest flirter, doesn't need to. women flock to him like moths to flame, but there's something about this woman... he steps closer to her, hand reaching out to run his finger along her cheek. "how else am i going to see you?"

she seems taken back, cheeks turning pink, but she takes him by surprise with her reply, "you could come see me."

his chuckle is dark and his tone suggestive. "oh, i don't think coming will be an issue."

and her cheeks deepen in color, as she announces, "i should go find my brother."

eyes falling to her chest, he asks, "should you?"

solana smiles and diverts her gaze, slightly disappointing him when she steps back. "goodbye, roman."

he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his custom suit pants. "not goodbye," he correct. "just goodnight."

because there's no doubt in roman reigns mind that this was the last time he'll ever see solana miller.

far from it.

[mal3vol3nt]

https://www.tumblr.com/longing-for-rain/755847912227028992/here-we-observe-the-aang-boymom-in-its-natural?source=share

Hi! I'm curious on your thoughts of this meta.

hi anon! so sorry for keeping you waiting with this response, i know it’s been months. unfortunately this probably isn’t gonna be the response you wanted to hear—me breaking down this zk brainrot rant and subverting their claims with canon content. please allow me to explain though (this is gonna be long sorry):

the reasons i’ve been slow to answer this ask and others that have sent me zk rants are:

since joining atla twitter (@arrsapphics if you’re cool) i’ve been exposed to a lot more zk coke-fueled rants and just do not have the energy to torture myself by willingly reading their shit

a lot of these zutara stans on tumblr are a lot more deranged and genuinely horrible people now that i’ve been exposed to the twitter zks. of course, zks are stupid and ship-obsessed on every platform and some of them (one in particular comes to mind—if you’re on twitter then you know) are genuinely just as bad, but i feel the ones on here have a special type of hatred considering they can tag their posts to ensure their hate stays within the echo chamber

CONTENT WARNING: RAP3

the second reason is the biggest part of why i will no longer entertain posts from longing-for-rain. i have recently found out via twitter that they write rape fanfiction of katara. being a chronically online shipper is one thing but to write fanfic of katara being raped so that zuko can save her is truly where i have to disengage. they have also posted rants of them analyzing katara’s body in the show, measuring the size of her breasts and hips to support the delusions in their head about this 14 year old girl. i truly cannot engage with this person’s rants as if they’re just regular shipping war bullshit. this person is a sick individual who not only projects onto a 14 year old brown indigenous character but also sexualizes and adultifies her

for these reasons, i refuse to read a rant posted by her and other big zk blogs on this app. people who take their obvious fetishes and racism and project them onto underaged asian and indigenous characters have gained too much attention from me on this blog. i can’t continue reading rants from these people and analyzing them because i know these people are not treating this show and its characters under an appropriate lens and arguing with their points will do absolutely nothing but enrage me, other people in the ka fandom, and fuel their delusions with our anger as “proof” their arguments hold any weight. on twitter, i’ll continue interacting with what comes up on my tl from my atla moots and if that includes shitting on a deranged zk then fine. but on tumblr i refuse to engage, especially since this app has a tagging system that i use religiously

and i would like to encourage anyone who reads this to also refuse to take this person’s rants seriously and look at them as nothing more than cope-hatred by a sick individual with sick fantasies and thoughts about these minor characters. of course, if you choose to still engage then i won’t stop you and will probably like and reblog your posts 😭

i will just no longer willingly click on links to their rants and subject myself to their bullshit. however, if you’d like for me to argue against zk claims then you are more than welcome to send me a summary of what they’ve said and i’ll do my best to organize a response! i absolutely do not want to discourage anyone from sending me asks because i truly do enjoy answering yalls questions and i love knowing that people like hearing what i have to say on these things lol. please, send me asks about anything and everything! just please understand that i won’t be clicking any links to their posts and blogs or be entertaining anything that comes from the three main delusional zk blogs 🙏

i hope this has made sense and again, i’m sorry anon for taking so long to answer this ask and for not giving the expected response 🫶

[idontliekmondays]

excerpts from a daily mail article released shortly after her arrest

When members of the Geneva High School role playing club asked 16-year-old Lindsay Souvannarath to choose a character they were expecting an elf, a sorceress or perhaps a female warrior.

But the shy, clean-cut teenager opted for a rather more unsettling choice, presenting them with a detailed pencil drawing of her chosen persona - the 'Nightmare Nazi'.

The trench coat, jackboots and gas mask were unmistakably those of an SS soldier; the skeletal hands clutching a vast dagger more akin to dark fantasy art.

Former classmates at Geneva High recall Lindsay Souvannarath as a shy, withdrawn youngster, who had few friends and instead sought out after-school groups and writing clubs to express her creative side.

But she was also prone to bouts of anger and violence - allegedly stabbing another student with a pencil in one outburst and occasionally letting slip an alarming infatuation with the Third Reich.

'On first impressions I didn't think there was anything too strange about her,' he told Daily Mail Online.

'She could be funny and intelligent but most of the time she was quiet and not very warm or outgoing.

'One year her character was a sort of Wonder Woman-type heroine, then all of sudden she tells the group she wants to be a Nazi ghost.

'You choose your species and come up with a back story. Hers was that her character was a guest from a crazy, dark Nazi universe.

'It's supposed to be a game in a medieval, fantasy setting but she would just argue if she didn't get her way.

'So we went on our quest with a robot, a couple of elves, wizards and this weird Nazi.

'Aside from the character's background he didn't do anything racist or too alarming. We didn't know about her interests at that time so we just got on with it.

Ms Szigeti recalled how Souvannarath began to idolize black-death metal bands in her mid-teens.

She became particularly infatuated with Varg Vikernes, a white supremacist musician convicted in 1994 of killing a rival guitarist and burning down three churches in Norway, describing him as 'cute' and writing essays about him.

'Her work was always dark and full of violence, there were soldiers and Nazis and all this weird stuff,' Sabrina said.

'She acted normal on the surface. She was never physically violent but she would get aggressive and upset if you criticized her.

'Everyone was uncomfortable but we just avoided trying to start a fight with her. 'If you asked her straight up 'are you a Nazi?' she would argue that she wasn't.

As far back as 2007 - when she was just 15 - she allegedly wrote 'free speech is dead' in one forum, adding: 'That's why we need people like David Duke to bring it to life again.'

In another warped entry, writing that same year under the pseudonym Snoopyfemme she wrote: 'They use sex in commercials all the time to sell products. Why don't they ever use violence?

'Wouldn't you love to see a bunch of guys tearing each other apart with machine guns to get a bowl of Cheerios?

'Sure, it might traumatize our children, but in my opinion, children aren't being traumatized enough.

'The only reason for Americans to breed is to create more soldiers to fight for freedom. We need to weed out the weaklings early on. Survival of the fittest, man.'

'She was very odd to the point among a lot of our classmates that no-one was surprised by her arrest.

'She was a very lonely person - but she isolated herself. 'From what I remember she was even suspended for stabbing someone with a pencil in middle school.'

'She was known for putting spells on people. She would do it by saying weird things and then putting on a curse - obviously we did not take her seriously.

'She would break out into laughter in the middle of class for absolutely no reason.

'When we saw that Lindsay did something like this, nobody was surprised. She was the one most likely.'

source

[raayllum]

Callum is so right about Rayla never doing anything for herself. You could say freeing Runaan was for herself but she also treats it as her "sacred promise" and chose him for Ethari too (shows how great her heart is). You think sparing Callum will finally count as her doing something for herself? Choosing her future and her love for him over the "greater good". She couldn't get her og parents back‚ this girl keeps losing and suffering she seriously deserves more wins

God, I could write an entire meta about that line - maybe one day when I'm feeling self indulgent. In regards to your actual prompt, re: saving Callum will count as something for herself -- a big yes, absolutely, I think! Though I think freeing her parents is something she deeply wanted for herself, too ("I miss you so much" / "so I wanted to do something for yourself for you") even if it was something she was continually putting off till the Aaravos situation, as far as she knew, was resolved

Prior to S6 I went back and forth on whether the show would frame Rayla's end of the possession plot line / trying to get Callum back as either "It doesn't matter what happens to me (again) I just want to save him" (which is what leaving in TTM and other moments was about) OR whether it'd be framed as "I refuse to sacrifice him / something I want (again)" and therefore be character development. I leaned towards the latter for reasons outlined here since the two have the chance to be even more thematically codependent than they already are in terms of their senses of identity:

As long as Callum is Callum (not possessed, or she has reason to believe he’s still in there), Rayla likely won’t be able to bring herself to kill him. This is from an emotional / characterization standpoint, of course, but from a thematic standpoint, we can see where it stems from Callum and Rayla continually being each other’s main connection to their sense of identity. As long as Callum is Callum (“you’re the destiny is a book you write yourself guy”), he’s worth saving. As long as Callum is Callum, she can be Rayla (“Rayla’s brave. She saves people” / “Rayla. My name is Rayla, and I’m going home”). As long as she’s Rayla, he can be Callum. Because if Callum isn’t Callum, then he’s dead, and if he’s dead, she can kill him. And if Rayla kills him, if Callum is dead, then she won’t be Rayla anymore. Because to literally kill Callum would be to simultaneously symbolically/emotionally kill herself.

This goes both ways of course - Callum can't/won't sacrifice Rayla because to do so would be to sacrifice a fundamental part of himself (namely his deep and Pure devotion to others which means he'll never go entirely down the negative side of Viren's path, and keep to the positive - leaving Aaravos, breaking free, etc). This was subtext prior to S6, but now it's actual text (she's his light/truth/hope of salvation, etc) so it goes double going forward. This is true for Rayla too — Callum is her guiding light and her star, he's one of the people who's taught her the most about how to love and the person she wants to be.

With all that in mind, yeah, I do think that Rayla will choose to not sacrifice Callum for the right reasons. Part of this is scaffolded under witnessing Callum not sacrificing her No Matter What prior to her won choice, and realizing "what [she] most deeply desires" isn't just Callum's survival even, but specifically the life they can have together, which she needs to stick around for and thereby not sacrifice herself. Runaan is also explicitly remorseful over the actions he took towards her where he choose duty over love, so Rayla realizing she should choose love over duty ties into them growing together as well in a positive way. We also see her realize some of this I think in choosing to let Lain and Tiadrin stay together rather than separate them specifically because of the Moonphoenix bracelet Callum gave her as well.

"I risked losing the best thing I ever had" because of her own duty turned revenge vs "I refuse to lose either of us like this" and finally fully accepting an assassin was never who she was and never who she Should be, in sacrificing others' lives or her own included. Them both Choosing each other above everything else was exactly what I was hoping for as soon as the "I need you to kill me" plot line started / wrote in my first CHET fic pre-S4 years ago:

She has two options as she pulls away. She can make a grab for her swords and go out, swords blazing. Kill Viren or Aaravos if she can as the sky splits open, purple and thrumming with magic; die with a sword in her hand in all likelihood. The release spell has already started. Or she can help Callum up, and they can live to fight another day—together. Rayla grips the back of his jacket. Presses her forehead to his neck for a second, tears building her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says. His arm tightens around her, like he’s braced for her to go. “Rayla—” “I’m so sorry,” she repeats, sobbing. This is all her fault, but she can’t do that to him. “We have to get out of here.” [...]

Callum is staring at her when she pulls back and she swallows hard. She doesn’t know what to say. It’s both a blessing and a curse when he speaks first. “You chose me,” he says, not quite softly; she can tell there’s a lump in his throat. An edge of anger that not doing so was even an option. “Yeah, well. It was about time,” she says quietly. “I—”

So uh, here's hoping!

[lunarriviera]

hi hey hello i have started watching a new crime drama and I AM OBSESSED. it's called 雪迷宫 or, for some reason, The First Shot, although it should be more properly Snow Maze. it's a period piece set in 1997 and it's produced by ZHANG YIMOU which must be why the production values are actually good??? anyway i am here to tell you all about it and why you should be watching it okay here we go

first of all there's a big hot dumb cop, zheng bei. yes that's huang jingyu and you might not like him because of his apparently quite sketchy personal life but all i care about in this case is that he's tall, and thoughtful, and a police captain who's protective of his people and a little bit of an idiot. my catnip tbh. (i guess he was in addicted too? somehow breaking the you-can-only-be-in-one-BL rule?)

(ETA that by "dumb" of course he's not dumb at all, only by comparison; cf. my own stupid meta on this fascinating topic)

then there's an effete genius consultant, gu yiran (wang ziqi), who knows everything there is to know about drugs. he comes from the south to help these ignorant northerners form an anti-narcotics unit. he's such a massive nerd, the team doesn't like him until they realize that he runs 10k every morning and can outrun motorcycles and is actually quite useful. then suddenly it's no longer "gu-laoshi" but is all "ran-ge" this and "ran-ge" that. he can't dance for shit. i adore him.

there's a superb seven-samurai style Assembling The Team sequence in which this cop is brought in as the muscle. Her nickname is mad dog yao and she kicks the ass of an entire club at one point. we love her. her only problem is that, not unlike zhang haixing in tibetan sea flower, she will in fact fight a wall. here's gu yiran's face after a drug dealer mistakenly underestimates her and she stomps on him.

one of my favorite things about this drama so far is how poor the police are. it's 1997 in a dinky northern precinct and these cops ain't got shit. no computers. rudimentary cellphones. barely any forenic analysis, and most of that is on pieces of paper. no bullpen. no interrogation rooms. they have to interview suspects at their desks.

captain zheng is so underpaid he can't even afford a real pointer for his situation board, he has to go outside and get a literal stick.

drives his dad's chicken delivery van. has to slam himself against the front door to open it. everything about this is absolutely perfect.

i'm only on episode 7 but this shit is already brotastic. please behold:

yes that is an actual line from the show. yes gu yiran has to live with captain zheng, they can't afford fancy accommodations for him. turns out there's a trundle bed made out of paper clips but that's okay, they still get plenty of cosy domestic time together.

and that's also what i already love about this drama—in spite of being about anti-narcotics, it's also very slice of life, very daily city life, with meals and neighbors and friends and family and did i mention food, there is so much eating in this drama. it's gorgeous. also i'm improving my colloquial chinese by leaps and bounds.

of course you are you stupid service top, now take care of the baby.

and those are just some of the reasons why you should be watching the first shot, which is funny and suspenseful and unexpectedly brainy and well-cast and has beautiful opening credits. there are 19 episodes on youku's youtube channel right now and the subs are shockingly high quality. i'm hooked, and also so mad at my day job because i can't just binge it, pls join me in this handbasket

[mimisempai]

You make everything better

Summary

Aziraphale cleans up, humming The Sound of Music, and Crowley wonders if he too is one of the angel's favourite things.

Notes

Absolutely no shame about the amount of fluff in this ficlet....

On Ao3

Rating G -  918 words

“When the dog bites

When the bee stings

When I'm feeling sad

I simply remember my favorite things

And then I don't feel so bad.”

Aziraphale hadn't heard Crowley arrive and was humming as he cleaned the living room, waving his feather duster to the rhythm of his song.

Crowley leaned against the doorframe and watched him for a few moments, amused. When Aziraphale stopped singing, the demon asked, "Really? The sound of music? I seem to remember you looking rather horrified a few years ago when I mentioned the idea of hearing it for eternityyyyy in heaven..."

Aziraphale turned and chuckled slightly before replying, "The very fact of not being doomed to it makes it enjoyable from time to time."

Crowley nodded.

"Not to mention the number of culinary mentions of that song. Between the schnitzel with noodles and the crisp apple strudel, there's enough to make your mouth water, isn't there, Angel? Which brings me to the reason for my interruption. Your tea is ready."

"Perfect timing, my dear, I needed a little break."

The angel put down his duster and joined Crowley, lifting his head to receive a kiss that the demon didn't hesitate to plant on his lips before they walked together to the kitchen.

There, Crowley pushed a steaming cup of tea toward the angel, who grabbed it greedily. Then, lifting it to his face, Aziraphale inhaled deeply, and as the demon sipped his espresso, he watched with fondness the look of pure delight that crossed his lover's face.

Of all the myriad things that made Aziraphale so endearing to Crowley, he wasn't sure which he liked best. But among the most important was his love for the good and beautiful things in life, whether culinary, musical, artistic, literary, or any other field that piqued his interest, and his inexhaustible capacity to enjoy the simplest little things in life.

"Crowley?"

Aziraphale's soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts and the angel continued, asking worriedly, "Is everything all right?"

Crowley nodded and took another sip of coffee as Aziraphale went on, "You seemed lost in your thoughts."

Crowley reassured him with a smile as he replied, "I was thinking back to the lyrics of the song you were humming and wondering if I might be one of your favorite things to help you not feel too bad when things are not quite right."

Aziraphale shook his head and approached Crowley, wrapping his arms around the demon's neck as he said softly, "You, my dear demon, have a unique place. You're not one of my favorite things, but you're the only one that's indispensable to me. As vital as the air that humans breathe. My favorite things don't matter if you're not there to share them with me. If I can't enjoy them with you."

Crowley should have known by now that Aziraphale was the angel who never ceased to baffle him. Especially now that they were both free, now that he wasn't afraid to express what he was feeling.

He closed his arms around Aziraphale and leaned in to press his lips to hers in another tender kiss before holding him close.

After a few moments, Aziraphale pulled away a little and traced the outline of Crowley's eyes with his fingertips, humming to the tune of the song he'd sung earlier: "Your eyes whose color makes the sun pale in comparison."

Crowley smiled a little, and Aziraphale, running his thumb over the smiling lips, continued: “This little smile of which I know I am the reason...”

Then his hand moved down Crowley's arm, intertwining his fingers with those of his lover as he continued: "Your hand, which fits perfectly into mine, these are a few of my favorite things..."

Crowley chuckled softly and replied, "Angel! You are such a poet!"

Aziraphale replied, "You bring out the best in me, and that's nothing considering you inspired Shakespeare himself."

They laughed together at this shared memory, and Crowley could not help but ask, "Tell me more about these favorite things, Angel."

Aziraphale smiled knowingly and continued his song, "The sound of your voice when you tell me you love me, holding hands unworried 'cause now we are free," he paused to stroke Crowley's cheek and continued, "That sweet expression you have only for me, those are a few of my favorite things..."

Then Aziraphale brought his lips close to Crowley's and murmured against them, "When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I feel sad, I just remember that you're my favorite thing, and then I don't feel so bad."

Then the angel stopped singing and continued, "Actually, that's an understatement, it's not that I don't feel so bad, it's that I feel so much better. You've always made things better for me, everything's better because you're here, Crowley."

Crowley, overwhelmed by emotion and unable to respond, did the only thing he could - he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Aziraphale's in a passionate kiss.

Later, when they parted to catch their breath, Crowley cupped Aziraphale's face in his hands and said softly, "I don't know where to begin in listing all the favorite things I have when I'm with you, but I feel like there's still more to discover, Angel."

Aziraphale replied with a cheeky grin, "That's okay, we've got an eternity for that."

Crowley leaned over and planted a light kiss on Aziraphale's nose before smiling and saying, "Eternityyyyy? That might become another one of my favorite things."

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

South Downs cottage series : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[thewolvesofthenorth]

Prologue

Prologue to What Goes Around Comes Around

Series Masterlist ❖ Main Masterlist ❖ House Of The Dragon Masterlist

Rating: 18+ Word Count: 800+ Summary: In the beginning... Warnings: Angst angst angst, language, mean!Cregan, enemies to lovers.

Next Chapter ⟹

To say you hated Cregan was an understatement. Hate was too kind of a word. You absolutely despised the man, detested his very existence on this planet. Some would go as far as to say that you wouldn’t bat an eye if he simply dropped dead. And you weren’t the only one to share that sentiment. Cregan could care less about you, and he had made it clear every day since you could remember.

Your families had been neighbors since childhood and your twin brother was Cregan’s best friend so the two were inseparable, which meant you were privy to Cregan’s presence all the time. To Cregan, you were Jace’s annoying younger sister, and he never failed to make your life hell at every opportunity.

Elementary school was filled with little things like pulling on your hair or sticking gum in it. Middle school was much of the same, only he’d taken to hiding your glasses whenever he could, and sometimes breaking them, which caused issues with your mother, but you never told her how your glasses kept breaking. For some twisted reason, you didn’t want Cregan to get in trouble for constantly breaking them, and you’d chalked it up to boys just being boys in middle school.

However, high school was a completely different story. In freshman year, you’d gotten braces, and Cregan made it his personal mission to make fun of your appearance every chance he got. It had become second nature for him to greet you with “brace face” or “nerd” whenever he saw you, and despite Jace’s efforts to have Cregan be nicer to you, they fell on deaf ears.

Sophomore year was when Cregan and Jace joined the football team, and you’d joined the mathletes, further solidifying your status as a nerd, and giving Cregan more reasons to make your life miserable. At the start of junior year, Cregan began dating Arra Norrey, the head cheerleader at school, and your life seemed to get worse from there, if that was even possible. As the head cheerleader and captain of the football team, Arra and Cregan were royalty, and whatever they said was law. You thought things couldn’t get any harder, but you were wrong.

Arra seemed to be jealous of you. Why? You didn’t know, but she always found a way to trip you in the hallways, and if she didn’t, then her lackeys would do it for her. Other times you’d be shoved against the lockers so hard that your head would spin. You had grown so used to being drenched in some kind of liquid on a daily basis that you had begun bringing a change of clothes with you. On more than one occasion, your backpack would disappear and would later be found covered in mud or some other substance, and sometimes your textbooks would have pages ripped out, making you have to buy a new one each time.

By senior year, you could count the number of friends you had on one hand. And by one hand, it was really just one finger. Jace. Cregan and Arra had spent the entirety of junior year and all summer alienating you from everyone. You were branded a pariah and those who associated with you in any way were dubbed “losers” or called “sad excuses for a human being for wanting to be your friend”. Other days you would hear words like “nobody likes you” or “you’re such a freak, no wonder you don’t have any friends.” The insults were not new to you, but that did not mean they hurt any less.

Throughout the year you’d managed to keep your head down enough that the torment had decreased, but only by the slightest bit. Arra’s insults lessened from a dozen a day to a mere half dozen, and Cregan’s antics with vandalizing your locker and belongings had surprisingly become less and less frequent. You had later learned from Jace that Cregan was focused on keeping his grades up and hopefully get a football scholarship. You were relieved at the news since you had also resolved to maintain your impeccable 4.0 GPA in hopes of securing a full ride yourself, particularly to King’s Landing University. It was the most prestigious school anyone could get into, and it was your dream to get into such an exclusive school and take part in their elite doctorate program.

You had hoped that by getting into KLU, that you’d be rid of Cregan and his endless torment and be able to move on with your life, but the universe had a sick sense of humor and would not grant you such a reprieve so easily.

Next Chapter ⟹

[lonigiri]

model chapter 4; sewing machine

masterlist

"i wanted you to know, whenever you're around, i cant speak."- heartbeat ; childish gambino

she taps the wooden table with the tips of her nails, making a satisfying clicking sound as she thinks about what to sketch for her new model. she was a little bit early to the cafe so she could start working on some designs because she hadnt worked on them last night as she got held up watching the new season of rupaul's with her roommates. she heard the door ring as it was pushed open by none other then her model. a grimace forming on her face before he walked over to the booth where she was sitting at and sat across from her.

"i didnt think you'd be here this early." he said as he checked his watch looking at the time.

"im almost always ten minutes early to everything. if you're early you're on time. if you're on time you're late."

he nodded at your explaination and looked over looking at the empty mannequin on the paper. "i hope you dont have me naked for one of the outfits." he laughed. hoping to earn atleast a smile out of her and she just rolled your eyes. was he just insulting me for not having my work done? i deserve a break sometimes too. she thought, obviously thinking the worst. she narrowed her eyes at her a nasty look on her face.

"what is your issue? this project isnt the only thing im worried about i have other work for other classes i need to get done."

she snapped at him. that wasnt the reason that she didnt have the sketch worked out yet, it just felt easy to say within the moment.

"im sorry i didnt mean it like that, it was just supposed to be a little joke. sorry if i offended you in any way."

he was genuinely sorry, his eyes laced with guilt. but for some reason she didnt care. absolutely no empathy whatsoever. she just rolled her eyes. "whatever lets get this over with." her words pierced through him. he just nodded and bit the inside of his cheek.

fun facts!

-kuroo consistently fumbles when he talks to yn like its js apart of him now

-yn doesnt really have a reason why she hates kuroo so much, its just something about his aura, at least thats what she says whenever anyone asks her

-yes kuroo doesnt know what a sewing machine is.

-yachi shares a wall with both hinata and yn so whenever shes in her room she either hears yn screaming into her pillow or hinata talking to kageyama, sometimes both at the same time!

-the corner is just a random corner that used to have a cuck chair but now said cuck chair is facing the corner and whenever one of the guys (usually kuroo or bokuto) does something weird/creepy/odd they get told to go into the corner.

tags- @giocriedpower @0tsukie @pkjay @emotiandon @eruphi @milkystarrrycharm @jellysupremacy @tetsuswhore @nymphsdomain @rrosiitas @itsdragonius @rirk-ke @talidk

(if ur name is bolded that means i cannot tag you, please go to ur settinfs and turn on tags for everyone)(also if you want to be added to the taglist the taglist is in the masterlist that is linked on this post)

[l0stfoster]

You already know who it is, back on my bullshit 👉👉 not here for paul this time (SHOCKING)

So , darry. Darrel Curtis. My boy my baby. I just have like ,, general things i want to know more about so bare with me bc hes my fav alongside paul ofc and i can ramble

1. When did his tail get permanently fucked up and how did he mess it up so badly?

2. Ik his powers get unstable when he gets like ,, real upset so besides the night he slapped Pony, are there any instances where he just got outta control ?

3. Is he afraid that his relationship with Paul isnt real bc of his mind manipulation bc baby knowing me if i had that power id be scared to mfing death

4. Goddammit im mentioning paul again sorry but ik darry calls paul pretty boy (heart hands i love that) but does paul call darry any pet name that just makes him SWOOOON

5. Has he ever gotten jumped post-book ?? I imagine that before him and paul fell out he had told him a bunch of things including weaknesses that socs used to their advantage ESP after paul “betrayed” them, and what better way to hurt paul holden then to hurt the person he loves more than life itself

Okay thats all for now b4 i go literally insane but i may be back bc i have questions abt other couples 😼😼😼

You’re so fucking real for the Darry enjoyment too I also adore him he’s such a guy. Both in canon and in the au, I need to kiss him on the forehead. DARRY YAP TIME (Crow will be so joyous)

Timewing got really excited about this one so a lot of the answers are his, I just added on afterward with my thoughts, so the first bullet point will be hers, and the second one is mine!!

When did his tail get permanently fucked up and how did he mess it up so badly?

- I assume he tried to crush it or break it violently enough that it needed to be amputated. One way of the latter reason probably would've been falling off the roof of the house back first. One way of the former reason is heading out to a field and trying to slam a hay bale on it. - I personally like to think he'd gone far enough to get his hands on a spare tire from their father's truck and,, crunch! It was the only way he could think of doing enough damage while getting away with it since the car had issues enough to need active little fixes and tweaks, including tire changes. He was around 17 or 18 during all of this, by the way. Unlike his ears, this isn't one his family knows was purposeful.

His powers get unstable when he gets like ,, real upset so besides the night he slapped Pony, are there any instances where he just got outta control?

- There are so many instances but it happens more so when he's stressed. There were a few situations where during tests during school he accidentally ended up making an entire class of 20+ students so anxious a few were sent home and a couple jocks had panic attacks. Another instance was (using the musical for this) when he and Soda were brought in to be asked abt Pony's whereabouts and he got so pissed off with the questioning that he also heightened the officer's anger and nearly got himself arrested. Also the rumble. I think that speaks for itself. - A couple other instances I can think of are after their parents died, when Dally got shot, and uh. The entirety of the duration that Pony was gone, though that was mostly him heightening his own distraught compared to anyone else. He probably does it every now and then at work too during rough work days, which makes for some interesting occurences.

Is he afraid that his relationship with Paul isn't real bc of his mind manipulation bc baby knowing me if I had that power I'd be scared to mfing death.

- Absolutely. He stresses abt it every second of every minute of every hour of every day. - A little fact that Darry doesn't know, though, is that after Paul's powers are presented he has a level of resistance to certain types of curse-related powers! He's not immune, per se, but Darry's manipulation, Soda's song, and Johnny's death sense are all a little lowered; this is because he's in the direct bloodline of the witch who cursed Tulsa. In the way that Johnny can't see Paul's death date (but can get flashes of it), Soda's siren song is easier for Paul to break himself out of and he can tolerate Darry's manipulation for a little longer before caving into it. Parry fans can rest easy knowing that Paul's love for Darry is 100% genuine. Unfortunately, Darry does not know that </3

Goddammit Im mentioning Paul again sorry but ik Darry calls Paul pretty boy (heart hands I love that) but does Paul call Darry any pet name that just makes him SWOOOON

- It's mostly the Latin nicknames that get him. He may not know what the hell Paul is saying but he's in love with it anyway. But he's also especially fond of being called the ever so typical "sugar" - Yeah it's just a bunch of Latin and then the usually sappy ones. Darling, Doll, etc. Paul hits him with “Optimum accidit mihi” ("The best thing to happen to me") once and Darry would actually fold if he knew it.

Has he ever gotten jumped post-book ?? I imagine that before he and Paul fell out he had told him a bunch of things including weaknesses that socs used to their advantage ESP after Paul “betrayed” them, and what better way to hurt Paul Holden than to hurt the person he loves more than life itself

- I imagine maybe once but there was also when he went hunting for Two's stolen feathers and was... scary. He's a scary dude, no one wants to mess with a fae that has that much muscle and is probably not afraid to bite you. - I also agree that,, yyyyeah, Darry is arguably one of the greasers to get jumped the least, including post-book. He works a lot too, so it's not like there are many open instances for him to walk around. Darry definitely told Paul any weaknesses that did exist, but I like to imagine Paul kept those real tight to his chest- He absolutely used them himself during their time hating each other, but could never get himself to tell the other socs; it was a level of trust he couldn't bring himself to break, especially since Darry had seen and heard his own share of things from Paul that he never spilled. The Socs also didn't know that Darry was what Paul valued the most; sure, Paul was very clearly into him, buuuut they make their own assumptions regarding his sexuality and how things go relating to it-

-I could definitely imagine a scenario where they attempt to sabotage Darry and Paul's relationship out of spite if they knew how dedicated Paul is.

[brokenheartsrecords]

track four: to break an engagement words: 0.8K tw: none taglist: @lxvebelle , @that-daughter-of-hephaestus find track three here note: not really my favourite piece of work, but it does set the scene

HAWTHORNE MANSION IS COLD AND uninviting. You’re going to marry into this house, this family, but it doesn’t look like it might be yours.

In your mind, you know that you can make the house look like yours, but you’re looking for reasons to not marry Grayson. It’s not that you don’t want to.

It’s just that you don’t know him.

He’s perfect in the limited societal events he chooses to attend; doesn’t drink more than one glass of any drink provided, his name never appearing in gossip sheets. There is nothing about him that could possibly be a valid enough reason to break off the engagement.

Unless he has a secret double life that might endanger your own life. 

You haven’t forgotten the voices you heard in the walls of your home, talking about your wedding to Lord Hawthorne, malicious sounding and rather creepy. 

You want to tell your mother about this, you really do. You would’ve done it, too, if she weren’t so excited that her daughter was getting married.

In the drawing room of Hawthorne House, Grayson sits beside you, careful not to let any part of his frame touch yours.

There was one problem about him.

He was too damn gentlemanly.

Skye and your mother are talking about the marriage banns and the engagement festivities on the other end of the room, pretending as though they really don’t care about anything that you and Grayson might talk about.

You should tell him that you hadn’t orchestrated this entire engagement, but he looks cold.

Just like the house.

You take a deep breath. You open our mouth.

And right at that moment, he leaps up, walking away from the seat like it burned him.

You’re confused, and you notice that Skye and your mother have stopped talking, instead choosing to look at Grayson.

He smiles, and it looks rather forced, and when he looks at you, his hand extended, you’re sure that he’d do anything to get out of this engagement.

“I was hoping if you’d like to take a go at the hedge mazes.” He begins. “You weren’t able to see much the last time you were here.”

Oh God, he absolutely hates you.

Still, you plaster a smile on your face and take his hand. “Of course, my Lord. Is it alright if we do so, Mama?”

“Oh, yes. I doubt Ms. Skye and I have any qualms about this. Do take a maid with you.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure, Mama.”

With a maid trailing five steps behind you, Grayson Hawthorne leads you into the maze, and your head supplies you with a mental image of him killing you when the maid is lost in the hedges,

You snort.

“Something funny, Madam?” He seems less on edge here in the maze. 

“Just… imagining,” you say.

“Imagining.”

“Hmm.”

Uncomfortable silence takes over the space the two of you stand in. 

“This is ridiculous.” You start. “You obviously do not want to marry me,” you untangle your elbow from his, “and I don’t want to marry you—and please do not take offense to that, Lord Hawthorne, I’m sure the two of us would rather wed people we know instead of people we do not.”

He looks surprised, and opens his mouth. You keep going on, not stopping at all.

“And the worst part is we can’t break the engagement or my honout will be lost, damn it all.”

“...you do not wish to marry me?” He asks, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a bit offended.

“I don’t.” You confirm. 

He nods. “And you wish to break the engagement?”

“Yes.” 

He nods again. “As do I. Of course, it is not because of you—you do seem like a rather lovely person. I’ve just never felt the wish to marry.”

You grin. “Glad that this was sorted. Now, how are we going to break the engagement?”

Grayson smiles at you, one of those half smiles that you’ve always found attractive. “We drag society into this love affair.” He states, as though it was obvious. 

“Pardon?”

“Once they notice that you and I have no feelings towards each other, word will spread. It will reach my mother, and then yours. They, in turn, will be pressured by our delightful society to invalidate this marriage out of sympathy for you.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“We stage an extremely heated argument where you can scream falsehoods about me to my face and announce that you do not wish to marry me. Truthfully, this method is far more effective; but it would have me lose my dignity.”

The maid catches up behind you, and your elbow is intertwined with his again. “What do you say, my Lady? Are you ready to fool the proper English society?”

He looks straight in your eyes, and there’s a challenging glint in his. “When am I never?”