#they are canoodling all over the ship

[deducemyheart]

Izzy: If I didn't know better, I'd say he's somehow become seduced by this ... imbecile.

Meanwhile Stede and Ed:

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 1: Linked Here!

AO3: Linked Here :)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

Scenes from the afternoon hookup replay in your mind over and over as you sit in the library at a battered old desk in the history section. All you can think about is Shoto’s mouth. And his hands. And his abs!! And his sweet face.

You twiddle your pen in your hand as you try to draft out an essay for class. Unfortunately, every time you try to jot down a few thoughts your mind goes blissfully blank and you remember the tender way he spoke to you.

"How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?"

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.”

“Find me later so we can discuss this.”

You look down at your watch excitedly – 7:55 PM. You eagerly wait for Shoto to appear so the two of you can talk and – with any luck – canoodle amongst the history textbooks. You sit patiently as the time ticks by.

Soon it’s 8:30 PM. You’re not worried, though. Shoto probably assumed you’d want to get some work done first.

9:15 PM rolls around and you start to get worried. You try to distract yourself with school work as doubt creeps into your mind.

10 PM – Shoto still hasn’t showed.

“Shit shit shit.” You check your phone again and again as you wade through the endless wave of homework your teachers have assigned. You keep losing yourself in a math problem or in a passage of your History textbook, only to remember with a jolt that you were expecting to see Shoto and the bastard hasn’t showed.

At 10:30 PM you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s almost past curfew. You pack up your things and prepare to head back to the dorms. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake.

You slide your books into your bag as a anxious thoughts dance through your mind like annoying fruit flies: Does Shoto regret your mid-afternoon hookup? Is he going to pretend it never happened? Did you push him too far? Does he think you’re a slut for stripping off your shirt and basically pressing his face into your naked breasts!? The synapses of your brain jump through dozens of equally horrid and embarrassing scenarios as you march back to your dorm room, blushing furiously with humiliation.

You run through the afternoon’s events in your head for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find a clue as to why Shoto would have left you waiting alone in the library. Your cheeks burn hotter as you recall the gentle way Shoto had kissed your neck before leaning in to capture your lips in one of his first kisses. "How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?" You shiver as you think back to how gentle he was, how each caress felt so loving and intimate.

You shake your head to clear it. Shoto must have a valid excuse for not meeting you in the library as he had promised – no boy could kiss someone that intimately and then instantly cast her aside, right?

Before long, you’re walking through the doors of Class 1A’s dorm building. You shiver with discomfort as you recall how earlier that day you essentially scaled the side of a building for a boy. Does Shoto think you’re an absolute fool with the extremes you went to for a quick make out session? You hope not.

You walk up the stairs and past the common area. You see most of Class 1A studying quietly. Sero, Izuku, Kirishima and Ida sit around one of the kitchen tables reviewing their math homework while some of the girls compare English notes on the couch. To your relief, Shoto isn’t there. Mina waves to you enthusiastically, beckoning you to join her and YaMomo as they review the finer points of Hamlet. You politely decline and make a beeline for your room. You turn the key in the lock and it clicks – within moments, you are blessedly alone.

You toss your heavy book bag to the ground and prepare to wallow in self-pity. It’s 10:56pm and Shoto still hasn’t reached out to you. Your phone is vacant of text messages and your brain is absolutely fried from schoolwork.

You dim your room lights and switch on the favorite fairy lights for some peaceful ambiance. Time for some self-care, bitch! You think resolutely as you swap your uniform for your favorite pair of pajamas. You toss your phone to the floor with abandon and climb into your comfy bed. You breathe in deeply, allowing yourself to revel in the coziness of the dorm room.

You take out your five-minute bullet journal and write a quick list of things you're grateful for: 1. The opportunity to study at UA 2. Your lovely and encouraging friends and classmates 3. Your cozy room and the roof over your head 4. Shoto’s mouth 5. Shoto’s abs 6. Shoto’s goddamn hard AF dick

Um. No.

You snap the journal shut before you get too derailed.

You pull your comforter over your head and sit in silence for a moment. You’ve never been the kind of person to go completely boy-crazy. You always used to make fun of those girls who would go gaga over pretty boys and their texts and their kisses. But as you recall the searing way that Shoto kissed your lips earlier that day, you suddenly understand what all the boy-crazed girly hype was all about. Oh my god. You have a crush. A big sloppy embarrassing crush.

In the silence of your room, you suddenly here a buzzing noise coming from the general direction of your book bag. You struggle to disentangle yourself from your sheets and your journal goes flying. You ignore its crash landing as you slip from your bed and collect your phone from where it lays abandoned on the carpeted floor.

It’s Shoto.

Your heart skips.

Todoroki: Y/N. Are you awake?

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Did Shoto just send you his version of “U up?”

Y/N: Yes, I’m still up.

Todoroki: I know it’s late, but can I stop by?

You tense. Oh God – he’s going to come by to tell you that he’s not interested. He’s going to thank you for your time making out and say that you probably should avoid hooking up in the future because it’s a huge distraction. You’re sure that whatever he has to say is going to be negative and leave you feeling embarrassed. Why else would he have skipped out on your rendezvous in the library?

You take a deep breath. You have always been fairly practical with a mind for strategy, two qualities that had really set you apart when you had taken the UA entrance exams. You know that the best course of action here is to rip off the Band-Aid sooner rather than later. Better to know how he feels about your hookup now

Your heart sinks as you type out:

Y/N: Sure, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just come in. Try not to be seen by anyone.

Todoroki: Of course. See you shortly.

Your heart beats double time as you look down at yourself. Your pajama set consists of a silky blue top with matching shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination. You chew on your thumb nervously – should you change into something more appropriate? No – Shoto has seen your boobs. A little bit of leg is not going to kill the half hot half cold hero in training.

You quickly remake your bed and kick your book bag beneath your desk so that the floor is clear. You plop down on your smooth comforter and wait, knotting your hands together as you anticipate Shoto’s arrival.

A few anxious minutes pass, and then you hear gentle footsteps pad down the hallway outside your door. The knob turns quietly, and in a moment Shoto Todoroki steps across your threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. He reaches down to turn the lock with a gentle snap of his wrist.

You take him in – he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him dressed so casually before and you assume that these are what he wears as pajamas in the privacy of his own dorm room. His hair is tousled and damp from a recent shower, and the burned side of his face shines where he’s clearly applied some kind of scar cream or moisturizer. His outfit projects a comfy air, but his expression is dark and stormy. Your heartbeat quickens in fear – what could possibly have caused him to be in such a tempestuous mood? Was this about your kissing?

You bite at your lip with worry. But when your eyes lock, his expression softens. In two quick strides, he’s at the bed. He leans in close so that your noses almost touch.

“Hi.” He says softly, before dipping his mouth to meet yours. You blink in surprise as your mouths melt together. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the kiss. Pleasure radiates up and down your spine as you kiss him back. He places both his palms on your hips and pulls you closer, letting out a small moan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue into your mouth. How silly you feel for thinking he didn’t want you like this!

After a few moments, you break apart.

“Hey there.” You whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful jaw. He leans in to kiss you again and you hold him in place. He stops and looks down at you inquisitively.

“I waited for you in the library, you didn’t show.” You say slowly, softly.

“My father decided to take me through some drills in one of the school’s gyms. I only finished a half hour ago.” His expression becomes dull as he speaks. “I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I wanted to see you - but I’m not allowed on my phone during training.”

Relief must have flooded your features, because he tilts his head to the side questioningly. You hold back a giggle – the way his head is tilted makes him look like a sweet dog asking its owner for a treat.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh and pull yourself further onto the bed, patting the spot next to you as an invitation. Shoto climbs up next to you, sinking into the deliciously soft fabric. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“This is so comfortable.” He says, pressing his palm into the plush fabric beneath him. You recall his sparse traditional bedroom and realize that he’s never laid on a proper puffy mattress before.

“Hold on – it gets better.” You say pushing him off the bed so you can pull down the covers. You slip beneath the comforter and gesture for him to rejoin you. He climbs in clumsily, unsure how to position himself within the sheets. You prop a pillow beneath his shoulders as he lays down on his side. You toss the comforter over the two of you and lay across from him, feet almost touching beneath the warm layers of bedding.

“Cozy?” You ask as Shoto settles into the bed.

“Yeah.” He says in quiet voice, propping himself up on an elbow. “I always thought beds like this were excessive but…maybe there’s some merit to this.” He eyes a blue Squirtle plush that sits next to you in the bed. “Can I…hold that?”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you reach over to grab the Pokémon plush. “This is Squirtle – he’s one of my favorite plushies.” You hold up the stuffed animal and wiggle it in front of Shoto’s eyes as if it’s dancing. “Squirtle, Squirtle” you say in a low tone, trying to emulate the television character’s voice the best you can.

Shoto gives you a weird look. “I don’t get it. Why are you just repeating its name in a strange voice?”

“Shoto…have you…have never seen Pokémon!?” You almost screech in disbelief, before throwing a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. You quickly remember that you are in the dorms and the walls aren’t super thick.

“No, I wasn’t allowed to watch television unless it was about Pro hero work.” Shoto says, a tinge of sadness flowing along with his words. “But it looks cute and round and I really just want to hold it and squish it?”

“Yeah, that’s the general reaction to plushies. Dude, we need to get you that whale pillow you liked on Pinterest. You need more cuteness in your life.”

“Well I have you, don’t I?” Shoto smiles softly. “You bring more than enough cute into my life.” He reaches out and grabs the plush from your hands and squishes it a bit. “But this is pretty nice, too.”

Your face grows hot at the compliment. Shoto tucks the Squirtle under his arm and shifts around in the sheets until he finds a comfortable position. He looks adorable and soft as he cradles the bright plush in his strong, muscular hands.

When he finally settles in, he looks up at you enquiringly. “What’s wrong?” He repeats, looping you both back to the conversation form earlier.

“So…” You sigh with embarrassment. “When you didn’t show up and I didn’t hear from you…” You pause and Shoto gives Squirtle a squeeze. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again. Or at least that you didn’t want to make out with me again.”

“Oh.” Shoto wasn’t expecting this. “I thought I made it very clear how…enthusiastically…I enjoyed our time together this afternoon. I didn’t realize I had left any room for you to question my attraction to you.”

“That’s nice to hear…but when you didn’t show at the library or send a text, I assumed the worst. My mind kind of went into full-blown panic mode. I thought maybe once you had time to reflect on our hookup, that you realized you didn’t like it or that you didn’t really like me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never felt that way before. Usually something like this wouldn’t bother me.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “But I think I really like you and want to be close to you, and the thought that you might not feel the same was tearing me apart for the last couple of hours.”

The words come tumbling from your mouth before you can stop and think them through. Why are you saying all of this!? Why does being around Shoto make you feel so comfortable and open to sharing? It’s so weird – and you’re absolutely sure he’s going to think you’re some kind of over sharing freak for telling him all of this.

Shoto looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment before speaking. “Something I have always admired about you is your ability to be straightforward about what you’re thinking and feeling. Most people aren’t like that, and I have a hard time navigating more subtle situations. Thank you for telling me exactly what you’re thinking – I value it so much.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, moving the bangs out of his bright eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I had abandoned you. I wanted to come to the library so badly. I want to kiss you so badly – it’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Let me match your honesty with some of my own - my father is extremely strict. Ever since I was born, he’s pushed me to be better. To be stronger. He wants me to surpass him. He wants me to take All Might’s place as the number one hero.”

You gasp at this. Of course you knew that Todoroki was ambitious, but this…

“I don’t have any intentions of becoming harsh and cruel like my father. I’m not even sure if I want to go for the top spot on the hero charts.” He admits, almost bitterly. “That’s the path that my father has laid out for me. He’s obsessed with my training. With my ‘potential.’ But he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about how I feel. Excuse my language.” Shoto looks so sad, so despairing. He hugs the plush close, his chin tucked into his chest as he continues.

“I just want to help people and make them smile – just like All Might. But my old man just doesn’t seem to get that. Today, when he noticed how distracted I was… he didn’t ask if something was wrong. He just pushed me even harder.” Shoto avoids your gaze. “I think he purposefully pushed me to train into the night to keep me from meeting up with you. In his eyes…you’re a huge distraction for his prized creation.”

Suddenly you notice how exhausted Shoto looks – there are pale bags beneath his eyes. You scan his body and see light bruises beginning to form on the exposed skin of his arms. You wonder - just what kind of training has Endeavor been subjecting him to?

You had never guessed that behind Shoto’s calm and collected exterior, there is just a normal teenage boy trying desperately to please his father, while simultaneously trying to defy him. The whole relationship seems complicated and messy and you’re sure what Shoto is telling you is only the tip of a chaotic Todoroki family dynamic iceberg.

“Oh, Shoto.” You say softly. You scoot forward and wrap your arms around him. He freezes, unsure of what to do but nevertheless comforted by the sudden closeness. You reach behind him and card your fingers through his hair. You see goose bumps emerge across his skin, and realize that he likely hasn’t been touched this way before.

“Is it okay to touch you like this?” You whisper.

He breathes out a shaky “yes” as he moves to toss the Squirtle plush to the floor. Once his arms are free, he works to wrap them around you. He rests one strong hand on your back and slings the other around your delicate waist. He draws you close to him and holds you tightly as you continue to run your fingers softly through his two-toned hair.

He’s silent as he buries his head into your shoulder. There’s an emotion that’s radiating off of his body that you can’t quite place – sadness? Frustration? Maybe even relief? After a few moments of running your fingers through his hair and gently up and down his back, he finally starts to relax. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen, and he seems to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers, muffled as he turns his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not great at expressing my emotions. I can try to put it into words…I’m feeling so weighed down right now.”

“Because of your father’s expectations?” You prompt, running a light fingertip down his spine. He shivers a bit in response, but not in an unpleasant way.

“Sometimes I wonder if he sees me as a real person, as a son. Or am I just his big project?” Shoto wonders aloud, his voice a bit strained. You feel his eyelashes flutter against the sensitive skin beneath your jawline.

“Shoto...that sounds like a lot to carry. You’re just a high school student – your father shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on you. It’s not normal.” You tuck a lock of red hair behind his porcelain ear. “This situation sounds so complicated. It’s no wonder you feel so conflicted. I’m here any time you need a friendly ear to listen as you work through it.” You continue to caress him softly over his clothes. He begins to lean into your touch hungrily. “But right now – at this moment – you’re safe. In this room, in my arms, you don’t need to hold other people’s expectations of you in your heart. When you’re with me, I want you to feel that you can just be Shoto.”

You still your fingers as you let your words sink in. Shoto is radiating a deep sort of sadness that you wish you could smooth away with your fingertips.

“Thank you.” He says, his voice breaking a tiny bit as he processes your words. After a few beats Shoto exhales deeply, his breath ruffles your hair. “I’m not used to talking about these things. Actually, I’m not really used to talking much at all. Or being touched.” You can feel the blush on his delicate cheeks warm the skin of your neck.

“I can tell.” You say before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he chuckles.

“I don’t know why it’s so easy to do these things with you – talking, touching…kissing.” He lifts his head off of your shoulder to look you square in the face. “There’s something about you…”

Suddenly, the room feels as if it’s charged with Denki’s electrification quirk as his bright mismatched eyes meet your own.

“I think I’d like to continue exploring this with you.” He says matter-of-factly, moving his legs to intertwine with yours.

“W-what does that mean?” Your breath catches in your throat as he dips forward to kiss down your neck.

“It means…I want to keep doing this. Kissing. Talking. I suppose I want to keep getting to know you like this? Intimately.” He places a soft kiss in the hollow behind your earlobe. “Would you like that as well?”

“Yes.” You breathe, with zero hesitation. He smiles into your neck before running the edges of his teeth lightly across your smooth skin. You let out a soft moan in response.

“Good. Then we’ll figure this out together.” He moves to kiss your cheek soundly before releasing you from his embrace. “But right now it’s well past midnight, and we both need our sleep if we’re going to continue to be top of our class alongside YaMomo and Ida. If we both let our grades slip, it might tip people off.” He moves to get off the bed.

“Hey – wait!” You grab his arm and pull him back under the covers. “I have no problem with you staying here for the night.”

“But wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Shoto’s face reddens, but he lets himself be drawn back into your gentle embrace.

“Would it be anymore inappropriate than you making out with my tits?” Shoto’s face burns an even brighter red at this question, but he also looks quite pleased with himself (you assume he’s recalling the way he kissed down your breasts earlier that day as he smirks). “Sharing a bed should be perfectly responsible as long as we keep all of our clothes on. You said you want to explore? Well get over here and let’s figure out if you make a good big spoon.”

This earns one of those rare full smiles from Shoto – he practically glows. “Alright.”

He pulls himself close to you. You reach above your head and switch off the string lights that wind their way around your room, and the tiny dorm fills with darkness.

You turn to face the wall and scoot your body back until you feel Shoto’s solid warmth. He reaches around to pull you close until bodies are touching, flush together. You tuck yourself into Shoto’s warm, muscular body and sigh with contentment.

“So do I make a good big spoon?” He questions, tentatively nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, your hair smells like lavender.”

“We’ll need plenty of practice to truly ascertain the full range of your spooning abilities.” You say in a faux-academic voice, causing him to snort out a laugh. “But so far you’re doing great.”

You interlock your legs and pull his strong arms around you. You wiggle a bit as you try to find the comfiest spot in the mattress. You unintentionally grind a bit against Shoto and jolt when you feel something hard pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Sorry.” He mutters softly, embarrassed.

“Maybe I’ll take care of that for you tomorrow.” You yawn as you close your eyes and settle in for a good night’s rest. You grin into the darkness as you feel Shoto’s dick get even harder as he mulls over your response, wondering at what you could possibly mean by “take care of that.”

You didn’t realize you were so tired. You’re dimly aware of Shoto’s breathing growing slow as he drifts off into a comfortable sleep. You smile softly to yourself as you slide further into his embrace. This poor, touch-starved boy has been through so many terrible things and your heart aches for him.

Even in sleep he’s tense, his jawline stiff and his muscles almost locked around you. But he’s warm and soft and smells like jasmine and mint tea. You hope that for the next few hours you can provide him with a safe harbor to rest and escape his troubles. You let your eyes flutter close and breathe in deeply, dreaming of Shoto’s sweet face as you fall gently into sleep’s embrace.

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

Part 3

🔥 Link to My Master List 🔥

[strawhatsoraya]

Hi! you work is amazing, can i request a nsfw headcanon for Zoro, Law, Kid and Ace (i don't know what number of characters are your limit) being very sexual frustrated bc their partern doesn't want to have sex with them? They think there's something wrong with them as boyfriends but they're more calm after they overhears that S/O is just too nervous to do it due to how big are

Anon, I don't know how long it's been. I'm not gonna pretend to keep track of time anymore. I live in the Twilight Zone where everything is dated 2 weeks ago. I have taken your request and written the headcanons as little ficlets/drabbles. Thank you for the request!

If you were to tell the truth, you shouldn’t have drunk as much as you did.

If you were to tell the truth, you should be canoodling up to your boyfriend, thigh flushed against thigh, whispering lewd promises into his ear. 

Instead, you were too busy avoiding the subject. Shame and embarrassment pulses through your veins, the same way the alcohol you gulped down your throat did. You’re thankful for the flush it brings to your cheeks. At least you can blame it on something other than yourself. 

You felt his gaze on you all throughout dinner: hungry, starved, almost pleading.

There’s a dip at your stomach, one you can’t quite decipher–or you try not to. The truth was, your boyfriend was damn near irresistible. Wanting, or lack thereof, had never been the issue. The issue was that you–by all means–were a coward of a pirate. You never dreamed of the day you’d run away from a challenge but every time you came so close to giving in, to throwing caution to the wind, and everything be damned–if you split in half, then you’d split in half, and die in ecstasy–you always ended up running away. 

You consider jumping ship–exposing yourself to the elements, or letting yourself fall into the depths of the ocean. Anything was preferable than openly admitting to your boyfriend your cowardice over what he might consider a trivial matter. Close to intoxication and close to tears, you turn to your best friend for advice.

Portgas D. Ace

He never thought he’d be lucky enough to be loved the way you love him. He never thought, not even in his wildest dreams, that he’d be allowed to love someone like you. You were always so warm, so kind, so easy to be around. Your laugh was the spark to light the fire in his heart day after day. He wanted nothing more than to return the favor, even if he felt he could never give you as much as you gave him.

He was never good with words. They always tumbled out of his mouth, in the wrong direction; too scratchy, too many sharp edges. He thought he was better with his hands. He wanted to show you how much he cared about you, how much he appreciated you–and how much he wanted you. Your body was soft, and pliable under his hot hands. Your kisses scattered goosebumps across his body every time. It seemed like you wanted him too, every time he’d grind against you while making out, every time his hands would grope your ass. 

Yet you always stopped him before it got that far.

Ace slams his mug down on the table, beer sloshing over the mug’s lip and spilling over his hands. He bites down on his teeth, until his jaw hurts. 

“This is ridiculous!” he hisses, eyes slightly unfocused as he glares across the table at Marco.

Marco in his infinitesimal amount of patience, casually throws back the remainder of his drink, tanned throat exposed. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, licking a corner of his lips where a drop of beer had collected.

Ace glares at Marco’s neck, wishing he could wrap his fingers around it and strangle him.

“How exactly am I ridiculous? What are you trying to say? Can you speak plainly for once?” Ace barks his questions–a metaphorical barrage of fists he tries to aim at Marco’s impudent face.

“I would,” Marco starts holding out his mug for it to be refilled. “If you’d let me get a word in. This is part of your problem.” Marco pauses, and raises a brow. Ace lights the tip of one index finger and contemplates tracing that questioning eyebrow to burn the hair right off. “You’re probably coming on way too strong.”

Ace groans. “Shut the fuck up,” he whines, as he leans over, elbows on the table. His face is hiding behind his unusually warm hands when your voice floats over to him; a siren at sea swimming in circles around his head.

“Honestly!” your voice is thin–embarrassed, and when he peeks through his fingers to look for you–he sees you quickly run a hand through your hair; a tell tale sign of your discomfort. “That’s not the case at all.”

There’s giggling at the table as the nurses crowd around you. He sees the redhead lean over, a mischievous grin on her face. “Aren’t you at least a little curious? You have been fooling around for months. It’s about time.”

You groan as you finish your drink–it was bright blue from where he sees it swirling in your glass. “Yes, but–” You cut yourself off to sigh before proceeding: “The problem isn’t that I don’t want to. I do,” you finish, cheeks aflame. “The problem is that...” You abandon your glass on the table to gesture with your hands, fingers splayed, a big space between your palms. “The problem is he’s–” your eyes grow wide. “So big!”

He is used to the heat of his own body–a sense of being under the sun even on the cloudiest day–but it still fears searing when your words finally sink in. A hook pulls at the pit of his stomach, threatening to bring him down, ship and all. He stands up abruptly. A drink spills, and he vaguely hears Marco saying something about decorum but he flips him off as he walks away.

All he can hear, and all he can see is you at that table, cheeks bright and your mouth that was too busy smiling at others instead of kissing him. Ace interrupts your little group talk, and you stand up stammering an excuse.

“I need to borrow y/n,” he says to the crowd, a big smile on his freckled face. “I saw a seagull and I need her to go look at it.”

It was the stupidest thing you had ever heard, but you still nod enthusiastically and allow him to lead you away. You’re in his familiar room aboard the ship, when you prepare to launch your interrogation. You don’t have time. He crashes his mouth against yours before you can speak. His hands are fiery as they travel up your back, underneath your shirt. As you gasp, he slips his soft tongue into your mouth, brushes it against yours. Suddenly, you’re pressed against the wall. He nips at your jaw, hot and wet kisses trailing behind him as he moves towards your neck. As he sucks on your pulse, so hard you are sure he’ll leave a mark behind, his hips start pressing into yours. You feel him hard under his pants, his cock teasing you; reminding you of what you had been so scared to face head on.

You moan when his hands slide away from your back and towards your chest. He kneads your breasts gently. 

“If that’s what you’re so worried about,” he mumbles to the crook of your neck, pressing his hardened cock against your heated core. “You should have told me sooner.” He bites down on the soft flesh of your shoulder. You cry out, dig your nails into his back. He moans softly, hips never stopping. You feel yourself grow wetter every time he brushes against your sensitive nub just right. 

“I’ll get you fired up enough,” he mumbles against your neck, licks up the column of it with the flat of his tongue. You feel the trail of saliva hot, then cold as the air hits it. There are goosebumps running across your body. 

“You’re gonna be so wet,” he says almost in a whine against your ear. “Fitting me in won’t be a problem at all.”  His breath is hot as his lips brush the shell of your ear, and his fingers even hotter as he slips one hand between your legs. He presses up against your dripping slit, pushing your panties into you. “Get ready, babe. Here I come.”

Eustass Kid

Kid was aware of  his limitations. He was not gentle, or soft. He could not grasp tiny little pieces of metal between his index finger and his thumb. He also knew what he was good at. Your aversion to his tactics of seduction made him feel almost incompetent. Almost. Because he knew there was no way his skills had grown rusty, or tattered. He was damn good at it. He was sure, after all, because he could feel your slick coating his fingers when he’d rifle through your folds. You’d lay squirming, and panting underneath him, face flushed, neck and chest wearing matching splotches of pink and reds. 

The way you’d moan his name as you’d cum around his fingers, was enough for him to know you liked it. You’d cling to his broad back, fingernails scratching down lines on his skin. You wanted him. He knew that much. Then why did you keep running away? You had come so close to letting him go all the way. He had been there, angry red tip literally at your dripping entrance, before you balked and called the whole thing off.

Kid was many things, but he knew when ‘stop’ meant stop. 

It didn’t mean he was happy about it.

He couldn’t take it out on you, and someone had to pay–so he made the crew his targets. They were easy pickings, and it helped ease his mood slightly; very very slightly. His large feet clank down the corridor, Killer by his side mumbling softly about his attitude. Kid considers telling him to ease himself off the ship, or to suck his dick if he’s so inclined to be on it and all over his business when he hears your voice around the corner.

“No no,” your voice is insistent. He stops just around the corner, and peeks around even when he feels Killer’s hand on his shoulder. Kid shrugs him off. “I mean, he’s already so big, like generally speaking!” you enthuse in a loud whisper, which Eustass finds isn’t a whisper at all. “But when we kiss…” you trail off, and shift your weight on the spot. The sight of you, wiggling shyly, eyes downcast is enough to pull a crooked smile out of him. “And, well I’ve seen it and I don’t think it’ll fit. That’s all I’m saying.”

He tries not to laugh. He tries really hard, but the barking laughter comes out anyway. It echoes in the corridor as he stomps towards you. Your eyes grow wide, and before you can stammer a greeting, he is picking you up.

“Let’s go,” he says as he throws you over his shoulder. You squeak, face growing hotter. He raises a hand and brings it down on your ass, the sound of a resounding slap filling your ears. He walks awkwardly, his stiffened cock between his legs demanding attention. In his bedroom, he tosses you on the bed. Your hands go out as he climbs over you. You try to press them against his barrel chest. “I gotta tell you,” he mumbles against your cheek. His tongue is hot as he licks up your face. “I’m not a liar.”

You shiver underneath him, and rub your legs together. His voice is gravely, and it scratches over your skin. You feel your panties growing wet. 

“So I can’t say I’ll be gentle,” he speaks into your hair, fingers grasping the fabric of your shirt. He pulls, and buttons tear and scatter–flying across the room. You gasp as your skin is exposed to the cool air, and to Eustass’ heated gaze. He looks as if he has been starved for days, and he would want nothing more than to devour you whole, bones and all. When he drags his eyes away from your heaving chest, he meets your gaze and it takes your breath away. Kid licks his lips.  “Feel free to slap me or choke me if you need me to stop,” he drawls out of the corner of his crooked smile. “Although,” his smile grows slightly sinister, a smirk that makes your body grow cold and hot all at once. “I might be into that too.”

Trafalgar D. Law

He would sooner die than admit it. He would sooner bite his tongue, and choke on his blood than to admit the selfish side of him; how needy and desperate he can be for your touch, to feel satisfaction as he drowns inside you, buried to the hilt, just like he fantasizes about every night. Law would sooner die than to push you into doing something you're not comfortable with, and so he deals with his stiff little problem all on his own. For weeks, he furiously pumps his fist over his cock, neck strained, chest rising and falling as he tries to smother his own moans. No matter how vivid his imagination can be, no matter what scenario he can picture, it is never enough. His hand is too familiar; not soft enough, not warm enough, never wet enough no matter how many globs of spit he drops on the bulbous tip of his cock.

If he got into the habit of being honest with himself, Law would admit that honestly: he just wants to hear you fall apart as he pounds into you. He wants to see your tears cling to your curly lashes, and wants to see your bottom lip quiver as you struggle to take the full length of his cock.

He tries to reign in these thoughts as he swirls a gulp of whiskey around his mouth. He is embarrassingly at half mast under the table, Bepo chattering away at his elbow. His golden gaze takes in the shape of your shoulders from a distance. Penguin and Shachi are having a conversation about wanted posters, one they keep trying to enthusiastically drag him into. Law purposefully ignores them. Your face is enigmatic as you talk to Ikkaku and he strains his ears to hear you over his chatty crewmates.

“He’s scary,” you say, one palm slapping the table noisily. Your fingers are splayed, and your eyes wide. Law frowns at the sight and at your words. He doesn’t get to ponder over it further before the conversation starts  up again.

Ikkaku scoffs at you, and shakes her head as she pours rum into your shot glass. “I can sympathize,” she begins, although she wears a frown. “But then, why are you two dating again? I know the captain can be a little intimidating.”

You shake your head furiously, hair moving with your actions.

“That’s not what I meaaann,” you whine, cheeks flushed bright. Law scoffs. You were a terrible drinker. He did not understand why you insisted on the habit. “He’s not scary like that. His…” You stop and press your lips together, trying to think of how to phrase it better. You use your hand and point upwards, imitating a gesture Law uses a lot, but suddenly you point the finger down to the table. Ikkaku’s eyes slowly follow your actions. “Little Law is the scary one!”

You tell her, you’ve felt it before, as you sat on his lap, tongues brushing hotly against one another. You had felt it, hot and thick against your core, when his mouth was busy sucking on your nipples, making you so wet you’d grind desperately against him–anything for a form of release. 

Ikkaku shrugs and throws back a shot of rum. 

“Can’t relate!” she declares without an ounce of sympathy. Your mouth twists in a grimace, and you bang a fist on the table, ready to fight for your case when a hand grasps your wrist.

You look up and follow the arm to see the face of its owner. Law is frowning down at you, ears bright red. You swallow thickly. He leans down until his mouth hovers around your ear. 

“Come with me right now if you don’t want me to make your clothes disappear in front of everyone,” he mumbles. You gasp as he brushes his nose against the shell of your ear. His thumb brushes the soft inside of your wrist. “There are much scarier things about me than the size of my dick.” 

You feel his free arm wrap around your waist and he pulls you up from the chair into a standing position. You spin around in his arms, and gasp when he pulls you against him. His cock is stiff against your soft belly. One of his hands keeps you pressed tight against him, sitting on the dip of your back. His other hand still holds your wrist, tightly against his own chest. His face swoops towards yours, so close you can smell the whiskey off his breath. 

“Like my lack of patience. Please,” he enthuses in a slow hiss. His breath is warm against your mouth, as he brushes his lips against yours. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Roronoa Zoro

He has always been a man of discipline. He trains hard, and lives for battle. When he decided to become the strongest swordsman he gave himself up for a deadman and dead men don’t need or want.

At least, that’s what he tells himself at night, when you slip away from his body before he can smother the heat between you that consumes him by sliding inside your pussy.

Years by Luffy’s side had taught him patience and understanding. Still, he couldn’t understand you completely. He couldn’t understand why he could kiss you the way he kissed you–feverishly, as if he could taste you past your teeth and tongue. He couldn’t understand why he could touch you the way he did, how he’d slide his callused hands over your smooth skin, how you’d let him play with your nipples until you were whimpering under his touch, how you’d let him rub your clit until you were so wet he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d taste on his tongue. He especially couldn’t understand how happy you were to ride his thigh, to rub yourself on his muscle until you soaked right through his pants, or how sometimes that wasn’t enough for you and you’d straddle him, and rub against his hardened cock until you cried out his name. All of that but the moment he’d pump his cock, and lick his lips at the sight of your dripping pussy, you’d immediately press your hands against his lower belly to stop him.

You confuse him, and it infuriates him. He wants to understand you, and he wants to keep things simple. He wraps his lips around the mouth of the bottle of sake–a trusted, simple, and loyal friend. He takes a large swig, and then another as he sees Luffy, Chopper and Usopp doing some kind of cha cha line out of the corner of his eyes. Brook is singing a tune Zoro would rather not hear, and he leads the line enthusiastically laughing.

Franky and Robin sit together at the end of the table, their faces close together. Zoro blinks as he frowns, before drinking again. He sees Nami drag you towards Robin, and squeezes you in between her and Franky. Franky starts to protest but something you say makes him pause. Zoro feels his heart accelerate. He tries–concentrates–to shut out Luffy’s loud calls for more meat from Sanji, by leaning back on his chair. He closes his eyes, and crosses his arms over his chest.

He hears you pause, and it’s like he could feel your eyes on his skin–feel them rake over his arms and shoulders. You start to speak again, and suddenly, your little problem makes so much sense to him. You were scared of his size? Zoro tries not to smirk, and he stays still for so long he eventually does fall asleep. When he comes to, he catches you slipping away from dinner. 

Zoro follows you quietly. He moves silently in your shadow, his gaze on you ravenous and seeking. You look so good from behind, he feels himself grow hard, stiffening in his underwear. He loves watching your hips sway, your juicy ass that stretches the fabric of your skirt. You reach the library, still not sensing him behind you. As you reach towards a bookshelf, a finger tracing the spine of an encyclopedic tome, Zoro slides up behind you. You gasp, startled at the sudden unexpected heat, but his fingers slide over the sides of your thighs and you immediately recognize the calluses.

You hum, and lean into his touch, as a warmth spreads throughout your body. “Zoro,” you breathe out with a trembling voice. “What are you doing here?”

He draws circles over your skin as he moves his hands forward towards the inside of your thighs. His breath tickles the nape of your neck. “What do you think?” he asks you. He takes in the scent of your soap, and drops a kiss with parted lips on the side of your neck. “Hunting you down since you’re a scared little rabbit.”

His mouth is hot and light against your skin as he drops feathery kisses over your exposed shoulders. “If you were so scared, you should have told me,” he mumbles against your shoulder, as he presses another kiss on the soft flesh there. His hands move slowly, up and down your inner thighs. His thumbs brush against your skin, each time higher towards the center of you. “Never pegged you for a coward,” he whispers against your ear. You tremble under his touch, the tip of his thumb brushing ever so slightly against your panties. You gasp, and spread your legs wider before you can stop yourself. “See?” he adds with a chuckle, one hand resting on the inside of your thigh to keep you from moving. His free hand moves to your clothed pussy. He rubs against it gently with his fingers. “I can be gentle. But only one time.” He nips at the top of your ear. You cry out in surprise as he adds pressure to his touch, rubbing over your panties on top of your clit. “Only this time.” You moan under his touch, and arch your back. You rest your head on his chest, and he nips at your exposed neck. You hear him groan against your ear when he sucks on your earlobe. “If you keep being like this, I’m not going to be able to go easy on you,” he tells you as you moan again. He feels your slick coating your panties, and it stays on his fingertips as he traces the outline of your slit. He captures your bottom lip in an upside down kiss for a slow and noisy suck. When he releases it with a soft smack, he licks your lips. “And whose fault would that be?”

[cod-dump]

Teen!Alex: The way you and your brother talk back to your dad terrifies me. If I talked back to either of my moms they would vaporize me where I stand

Teen!Gaz: We utilize the fact that he values us above everyone else’s wellbeing

Teen!Alex: My moms value me but Ma also threatened to ship me off to Alaska in a box and have me walk all the way home… over me not properly drying the dishes before putting them away

Teen!Gaz: That’s fair, though

Teen!Alex: Babe!

Teen!Ghost, loudly from the other room: NO CANOODLING

Teen!Gaz: FUCK OFF SI

[mariaofdoranelle]

Maria plz bring back the booty call i need it to continue

Your wish is my command, Nonnie! <33

The Booty-Call Dare - part 3

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics, July prompt “Healing”

Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: idiots idioting

Words: 1064 (sorry!!!!)

The decision to put Rowan’s key in separate keychains from her car and apartment was much more emotional than logistical, Aelin thought as she searched the bottom of her big work purse at his apartment door.

Having Rowan’s key was okay, a rational decision, but having it along with her own felt like too much. Looking after him while he healed from two broken ribs was inevitable—Aelin had work most of the day, but she was still the person he was closest with in town—this wasn’t what she was confused about.

She knocked on the door before opening it to make her presence known, just to be sure.

“Over here,” he called from the kitchen.

Aelin thought she loved that pre-hookup anticipation, but that hour of wait became a whole week, two more to come—the situation brought a queasy feeling in her stomach, always skipping between overjoyed and terrified.

In the kitchen, Aelin found her friend in a clumsy attempt to clean a white powder off the floor with a broom, an open jar of creatinine on the counter before him.

“Rowan Whitethorn,” Aelin said slowly, in a low but chastising tone. “You’re not allowed anywhere near a broom… or the gym!”

“I’m not! I—“ Rowan paused under her pointed look, busted between a broom and gym supplements. He sighed. “Have I told you how much I hate this?”

Aelin came closer to hug him, and decided to give him a leap of faith—he’d mentioned before taking creatinine even on his days off the gym, and he wouldn’t be stupid enough to exercise with two broken ribs. These days of rest were taking a toll on him, she knew for a fact that Rowan hated feeling useless.

She pecked his lips. “My poor baby.” A few strokes on his cheek as Aelin struggled not to laugh. “Is all this rest stressing you out?”

“Not funny,” Rowan grumbled. Still, he leaned in to give her a warm kiss, biting her lips. “But I like this.”

“You like what?”

“When you call me ‘baby.’”

Shit. Those butterflies again.

Pesticides. Fly swatters. Nets. She needed to kill those butterflies because being with Rowan romantically, much like their friendship, felt too easy, too safe—too dangerous, risking the fall when their booty-call was fulfilled and she was left with nothing.

It was supposed to be a no-strings-attached hookup, and now they’ve been chastely canoodling for a week. It was the longest she’s ever waited before having sex with someone—this was an okay time, but they’ve been seeing each other daily, and Aelin never waited seven dates to sleep with a guy.

Does it count as a date if you’re dining together and kissing while waiting to fulfill a no-strings-attached booty-call?

“I’ll call you that again…” Aelin slid her hands from his head to his shoulders. “If you let me clean this mess. And wash your hair.”

Aelin didn’t miss the slightly greasy aspect of it, or the reason for it—his arm movements being limited due to the fracture.

Rowan ducked his head, his cheeks gained an adorable reddish color. When she looked at him, all thoughts and doubts that were floating around her like dust settled back down, and she only had half a mind to worry—Rowan was either kissing her thoughts away or driving her insane with his stubbornness.

Rowan opened his mouth to argue, but experience stopped him.

He doesn’t want to “take advantage” of her help.

She’s doing it whether he likes it or not.

They’ve had this conversation many times, in many ways this week.

To soften the blow to his feeling worthless, Aelin pressed their foreheads together and said in a sultry tone, “Wait for me in the tub, will ya?”

Rowan looked down at his torso and let out a pained breath. “Just so you know, this is not how I pictured you and me in the tub for the first time.”

Aelin chuckled and kissed his cheek before shipping him off to the bathroom. The creatinine mess was quick to clean, but she stayed a bit longer to assess things. His house was suspiciously clean. Too clean for someone who wasn’t supposed to do most house chores.

At the bathroom, she found him already dunked in water, patiently waiting. Aelin sat at the head of the tub and grabbed the bottle he’d strategically placed close to her: 2 in 1: shampoo & conditioner, the bottle said, before a huge picture of a pine tree. A huge upgrade from his ‘one soap for everything’ system.

“Very high-end stuff. Are you opening a hair salon, Buzzard?”

“I’ve got this little tuft now.” Rowan pointed at the short strands on the top of his head. “Gotta take care of it.”

Aelin had barely begun to massage his scalp when his eyes fell blissful closed, a serene, close-lipped smile on his lips.

“You’re no better than a house cat,” she said, massaging his head. He let out a low noise in his throat that might very well have been a purr.

It happens in moments like this, when Aelin looks at him and his mere existence sends her dangerous thoughts like Oh my God, I think I like you. It wouldn’t be a problem, as long as she found metaphorical pesticides to kill the butterflies soon.

Fingers in his hair, she leaned down to peer at his face. “Is this when you assume you’re better off telling me if you can’t do something?”

However, Rowan took advantage of their proximity to tug her face closer for a messy kiss. The position was a little awkward at first, but it got better when Aelin moved to his side, sitting on the edge of the tub.

Rowan’s kiss was slow, he hungrily explored her mouth with a rough touch on her hips. The fire he ignited under her skin made her melt into a needy puddle under his touch. Aelin kissed and nipped the skin of his neck, then went back to his mouth, pressing herself against him. It was only when they broke the kiss that she realized his wet body dampened her white shirt, making it near transparent—

“Fuck,” Rowan muttered under his breath, eyes on her torso before he sneaked his hands under Aelin’s shirt, one hand holding her waist and the other teasing her breast through the lace bra.

She moaned into the kiss and leaned closer to Rowan, but that single movement made her lose her balance; in the next moment, Aelin had fallen into the bathtub.

If she and Rowan couldn’t keep it together, the cold water did the trick and tampered the mood, Aelin realized as she laughed it off.

Rowan tugged her closer for a cuddle and kissed the top of her head, knowing they’d just found themselves on the verge of a forbidden strenuous activity.

One week down, two more to go. Aelin would never admit that the wait wasn’t so bad.

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[goldenlikedayl1ght]

timeless - j. kiszka

a/n: this one is super long and holy shit i'm pretty proud of it :) my other song choice for this was wii sports resort theme song. warnings: cursing, past infidelity, some angst, stupid choices, allusions to sex, lots of wedding talk, readers family all being chill, reader being feminine (no real descriptions though) but they wear a wedding dress and are 'mrs', uh, petnames, josh being flirty. my qualifications for writing this is that my dad got married on a cruise but it will be inaccurate, whoops. word count: 10.2k words summary: you decide to be kind after being cheated on. it spirals out of control, thanks to josh kiszka. pairing: josh kiszka x reader now playing: timeless (taylor's version) (from the vault) - taylor swift "and sometimes there's no proof, you just know/you're always gonna be mine/we're gonna be/i'm gonna love you when our hair is turnin' gray"

You book the cruise about six months before you break up with him.

Your whole family is going, you tell him, and it’ll be about five years since you got together when you go, it’ll be romantic!

When he proposes to you two months later, you decide to get married on the cruise. You’ll have the ceremony with your closest family, and then friends will be able to celebrate with you two when you get back, you’ll throw parties!

You catch him cheating on you about six months before you leave for the cruise.

At that point, you had already reached out to plan the wedding with the cruise line, you have your wedding outfit, you won’t be getting your deposit back. He will not be going, he says, because what sadist would go with your ex-fiancé’s family to the Bahamas for two weeks after they find out about your infidelity?

Your sister convinces you to go, telling you that your parents can renew their vows and you don’t even have to go.

You can get over the last of your feelings towards your ex while sipping a pina colada on a beach somewhere.

And this, dear reader, is the story of how you meet your husband on that cruise.

• • •

Day One:

Okay, so you don’t mean for him to be your husband, really. It goes something like this:

Your sister picks you up and you climb into this car with your parents, your sister, your nephew and your brother and his wife.

As your brother and his wife canoodle, still in their honeymoon phase, you make sure your nephew doesn’t spill his juice, and you ask yourself, is this it? Are you meant to have random sex and live a life of freedom yet loneliness and eventually leave everything to your nephew when you croak?

Maybe it isn’t that dramatic, but you still feel shitty!

 You’re waiting at the port, sitting by the help service desk as you wait to board the ship. You’re entirely too occupied trying to fend off thoughts of your ex, yet you hear something that just catches your ears just right.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kiszka, I can offer you a voucher for your next trip with us, but unless a stranger here offers you their ticket, I’m afraid you’re not going on this cruise. We’re all booked up.”

The man the employee is talking to looks like he just came from a trip to the Bahamas, with this wild curly hair and sandals on. He has these, almost goofy, sunglasses on. He stands with a few other people, one who looks just like him with straight hair.

His body language seems angry, but he’s handsome. And you feel it.

You feel an attraction that you haven’t felt since your ex.

And then you remember your ex, and the ticket in your bag that was abandoned by him, and you realize that someone can give this man their ticket.

You realize you can help this angry, handsome man.

You glance at your sister.

“I’m going to do something sort of crazy, and I need you to support me no matter what. Can you do that?” She smiles.

“Always and forever.”

You get up and grab the ticket from your bag, heading over to the counter where the man stands with the employee.

“And I’m telling you,” The man says, and you almost swoon at the stranger’s voice, “These are my credit card bills! My payment for this trip is right here, there has to be something you can do—”

“Excuse me?” Heads turn towards you, and the employee sighs.

“I’ll be with you in just a few minutes—”

“Oh, no, I—” You sigh, and hand the employee your ex-fiancé’s ticket. “This guest won’t be joining us on the trip, and since I paid for his trip, I’d like to give his ticket to the gentleman here.”

Translation: This guest was a lying piece of shit who broke my heart and was supposed to marry me on this trip, and since I footed the damn bill for aforementioned piece of shit, I’d like for the handsome stranger here to stay in my room.

The stranger looks at you like you just saved his life. Your heart swells.

You all look back to the employee, who looks exhausted.

“We can do that,” They scan the ticket, and start reading your ex-finance’s information. “Okay, so, Joshua Kiszka is going to be the name on the room and the ticket,” she starts, “He’ll have to stay in your room, is that okay?” They glance at you. You turn to Joshua.

“Are you an axe murderer or a creep?”

“Not that I know of.” He answers. You smile.

“That’s totally okay.”

“Alright,” The employee glances at their computer again, typing some stuff. “So, there’s two other things. Number one, there’s the romantic dinner for two this Saturday. Is he going to that?”

“Yes,” You answer, not thinking about it. You smile at the stranger, and he smiles back.

“And the wedding.” The stranger’s smile drops. Yeah, that was understandable.

Your hand lands on his arm, and you become vulnerable.

“Just, go with it for a while, okay? We’re not getting married on this trip, I promise.” You smile, and this seems to reassure Joshua, who turns back to the employee.

“We’re a couple of soon to be newlyweds, baby.” He smirked.

The Employee seems less sure. But they scan the ticket and type a few more things into their computer before handing the ticket to Josh.

“All set. I’d recommend boarding together to get your keycards and everything sorted out. Please step to the side so I can help the next guests.”

You oblige, and suddenly it hits you. You’re a stranger standing in front of a family after you just saved their vacation. You just invited a stranger to stay with you. Joshua looks at you.

“Well, that was a crazy way to ask me on a date.” He tells you, and you laugh.

“Did it work?”

“Absolutely, this vacation would’ve been ruined without you!” He grinned. “I’m Josh.”

You give him your name, and you can just see the relief on his face. He introduces you to his family, and you meet his brothers, Jake, Sam, and Danny, as well as his sister and parents. They’re all lovely.  They begin to call boarding numbers, and Josh takes his backpack from his twin.

“I’m gonna go with them to figure this whole thing out, we’ll meet for lunch later?” They all agree, and Jake mentions how nice it was to meet you, and you head back to your family to board.

Your family looks extremely confused.

“Everyone, this is Josh—There was a problem with his ticket, and I figured since we had an extra, we can hangout with Josh for the trip.” Your sister laughs, and your nephew copies her giggles.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going to do anything wild together, I’m just so grateful that I’m actually going on this trip.” He said honestly. Then he turns to you. “So, what’s this about a wedding?” You laugh, and link your arm with his, a bit of a bold move on your part, but you’re feeling bold. For the first time in months, you want someone, and it’s making you feel bold.

Mostly, for the boarding process, you stand in pairs. You and Josh, your parents, your brother and sister-in-law, and your sister and nephew. You’re waiting in line when you start to explain.

“So, the wedding was originally supposed to be mine, yes. But, the groom turned out to be, uh..” You try to put it nicely, “Not the one.” Is the best thing you settle on, “So we’re going to use it as a way to have my parents renew their vows, or something.” You explain. Josh nods,

“But you realize that we’ll be regarded as the happy couple the entire time we’re on board, right?” You laugh at this idea of this dude you barely know being in love with you and marrying you.

“Josh, you don’t strike me as the type to shy away from the spotlight.” It’s just something about him that gives you the impression that when he walks into the room, he is the center of everyone’s attention. But he just laughs, almost a tad shy.

“Fine, then I’m making up a wild story about our meeting.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you remember it, right? When you invited me to be a guest at a wedding for a man you were in love with but fell in love with me through out the night?”

“Why does it always have to be about weddings with you, Josh?”

“You know me, I’m a romantic.” You roll your eyes at this, and you hand your boarding passes to the person at the podium, who scans them, and then glances to you.

“Enjoy your stay on the Princess of the Ocean!” The ship name almost makes you laugh, “And congratulations to you both! We hope your wedding and honeymoon is all you want and more!” You realize they must have your name on file, or something comes up when they scan your passes.

You don’t get a chance to respond, because Josh’s arm is around your waist, and he says,

“Everyone’s been lovely so far, thank you. We’re having a great time already, right, Doll?” Your face flushes.

“It’s a dream, honey.” You respond and kiss his cheek. The employee wishes you a great trip, and you head off to the ship.

“I guess we’re going to have to get used to that, huh?” You don’t move from his arm around you.

“I guess so, honey.” You tell him.

You make your way onto the ship, wondering if this could be different. When you get to your cabin, it’s decorated with wedding stuff, and it makes you and Josh both laugh with red faces. On the bed, are towels in the shape of swans, who make a heart with their necks.

Josh tells you they look just like the two of you, and you can’t help but get this feeling that it’ll be impossible to stay away from him while on this ship, no matter how big it is.

• • •

Day Three:

But then you don’t see much of Josh for the second day of your cruise, finding your day full of drinking and running around with your nephew, who you can’t help but indulge in all the kid stuff. You take him on the slides, in the pools, to bumper cars. You get him a Shirley Temple when he gives you puppy dog eyes.

But during your second day at sea, you sort of want to see Josh. He’s out of the room before you even wake up, even though he got back to the cabin after you went to sleep last night. You miss your fake husband.

So, when you see him by a bar around noon, you approach him.

“You look familiar,” you start, “Do I know you?” You ask, a playful smile on your face. He laughs.

“Could be, we’re getting married next week.” You giggle and ask the bartender for a tropical, fruity, alcoholic drink. Josh asks him to make it two. “I want to say thank you again, for letting me take your douchebags ticket.” You smile at his hatred towards an ex he’s never met.

“Don’t worry about it. Why’d you decide to come on this cruise in the first place?” You ask curiously.

“Well, we got back from tour about a month ago, and we knew we’d be wanting to take a vacation that doesn’t involve preforming anywhere.” This leaves you with more questions then answers, and he sees it on your face, “We play in a band, my brothers and I. We scheduled a tour for this year and wanted to reward ourselves with some relaxation.” Huh. “How about you?”

“Well, my parents wanted me to go with them to celebrate their retirement. Then, it was to get married because that worked out so well.” You know you sound bitter about it. It’s because you are.

“Well, I like your new husband more anyways.” He tells you. It makes you laugh.

“We’re are you from?”

“Michigan, originally. I live in Nashville, now.”

“For music purposes, right?”

“Right.” He takes a sip of his drink, “And you?”

“Atlanta, Georgia.” You told him. “But I don’t know, that cities way too small when you have someone living there that you thought you’d marry.” You confess. “What type of music do you play?”

“Oh, we’ll play anything, but we’re known for our rock and roll.” He smiles.

“Well, what do you like to play?”

“I really love all of it, but my true passion is film. I sing. I’m partial to singing jazz.” He explains.

“Huh..”

“And what about you? What do you do for work?”

“Nothing as cool as singing for a rock and roll band.” You admit. “I’m a teacher. I’ve taught a lot of groups, but my favorite is high schoolers, honestly. I teach English.”

“Oh, an Academic?” You laugh.

“Shut up, film boy.” He fakes a hurt gasp, placing his hand on his chest.

“I’m hurt, Doll. I don’t know if I want to marry you anymore.”

“That’s a shame. We already put the deposit down, I’m not getting my money back.” He laughs with you this time.

You talk a while more, and before you know it, your stomach is rumbling for lunch. He walks you to the popular lunch spot on board and decides to join you for lunch.

You both wind up taking bites from each other’s plates.

“Do you like grapefruit, Doll?”

“God no, I was sick once, so my mom gave me one, supposed to be very good for you,” You pause, “I threw up while eating it and haven’t eaten a grapefruit since.”

“Aw, that’s a shame, it wasn’t the grapefruit’s fault!”

“Yeah, but now I associate the grapefruit with throwing up.” You told him.

“I’m sure the grapefruit longs for your forgiveness, Doll.”

“Shut up, Honey.”

• • •

Day Five:

You wind up spending all of day three with Josh, but you don’t see him much on day four—It’s your first day at the beach you’re docked at, so you both want to spend it with your family.

You learned a lot about him on day three—His favorite foods, his favorite movies, music, stories of him and his brothers on tour, growing up. He learns that you went to school in Florida before moving to Georgia, and that you have a scar on your stomach from getting your appendix removed when you were nine.

Learning about each other makes you yearn for him.

The fifth day, though, he’s still in the room when you get up. He grins at you when you wake up, coming out of the bathroom amid brushing his teeth. His hair is wet from a shower, and you sit up, deciding you desperately need a shower.

“Morning, Pumpkin.” He grins as you grab clothes for the day from your bag.

“Morning, sunshine.” You grumble.

“Do you want to go to the beach with me today?” He asks.

You grin and nod, “Sure. Sounds cool. Just let me shower.”

When you finally head off the ship to the beach, Josh has decided he needs to hold your hand. It’s a requirement, he decides.

“We’re betrothed, after all!” He defends.

It makes you laugh, but you’re happy to hold his hand. The sun beats down on you, but there’s this warmth that feels good. You’re unsure if it’s from the sun or from Josh, but you don’t ask. You just walk with him.  

There’s something that’s just easier with Josh around, something that requires no thinking. You can’t really put your finger on it, but you love being around him.

You pass this private beach that you must pay to get into. Josh, in his infinite wisdom, decides the two of you can have fun with this.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, as he takes your hand and drags you off to a shop with a sign that says, ‘locally made jewelry’ in it’s window.

You’re suspicious, but you would follow him to the end of the earth.

“Absolutely not.” You respond, but make no effort to stop him from walking you to the store. He looks around for a second before pulling you over to the ring section.

“Pick out something nice, we might as well milk the whole marriage thing.” You wind up choosing a delicate looking ring that has gold flower decals and a small black diamond in the middle, which you’re pretty sure isn’t real.

You ask the employee to try it on, and it fits like a glove.

Josh can’t take his eyes off you with this ring he’s about to buy for you.

“We’ll take it.” He says to the employee, handing him his card before you can object, and you look to him.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“We’re getting married, of course I did.” He jokes, but then he becomes more serious for a moment. “Plus, I told you, I owe you a million times because I wouldn’t be here without you.” He says softly.

You lean forward and kiss his cheek.

“It was my pleasure.” You say softly. The employee is done ringing you up, and he looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

“I just want to say how happy I am for you two. You’re a beautiful couple.” He hands you the ring and you slip it onto your ring finger.

“Thank you.” You tell him, smiling, and admiring your new engagement ring. Josh wishes him a good day and takes your hand to head back to the beach, where the person letting people in stops you and Josh, telling you the cost to get into the beach. Josh goes for his wallet before smoothly throwing in,

“Thanks for this, it’s such a nice place to spend our time before the wedding. One last quiet moment before the chaos leading up to it.”

“Oh, when are you getting married?” She asks.

“Next Thursday.” You smile. “We’re getting married on the cruise ship over there.” You point, and she shakes her head.

“Don’t worry about the admission fee, I remember how chaotic it was to get married in a familiar place, let alone on a boat.” She chuckles softly and lets you pass.

“Thank you so much!” You say gratefully, never letting go of Josh’s hand. He smiles to you.

“You’re a natural.” He says, as soon as you’re far away from the employee.

“Are you kidding? I’m literally shaking, I keep thinking someone’s gonna call our bluff on the whole wedding thing! I don’t know how you’re managing it.” You tell him honestly.

“I think you’re doing great.” He tells you. “Besides, we’re technically not lying! You were supposed to get married next Thursday on the ship, it just wasn’t supposed to be with me and it’s now for your parents.” He reminds. This is true, you suppose. Plus, with Josh, it’s so easy for you to lie and say he’s in love with you or that he’s the love of your life.

The beach is beautiful—It’s clean and quiet, and you both lay in beach chairs that have been laid out for two.

You’re just laying there for a while, but eventually you turn your head to admire him for a while. He wears a short-sleeved button up, that’s this light blue color. It’s opened, exposing his torso. He has on swim trunks too, and his sandals are discarded on the sand. He also wears this pretty necklace that matches his sunglasses.

“I can feel you looking at me.” He says softly, not turning his hand. Your face flushes and you turn your head back and close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin.

“Sorry. You’re just really gorgeous.” You confess. He smiles.

“Doll, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had a crush on me.”

“You’re the one that bought me a ring, Honey.”

“Touche.” Your conversation is cut short when someone approaches you with two pina coladas from the bar. On the house for the happy couple, he says.

After a quick conversation with him, you find out he runs this tropical paradise, and that he’s celebrating twenty years with the woman who waived your admission fee. They got married on this very beach; he tells you. You thank him profusely and when he leaves, you and Josh raise your glasses to each other in celebration for your faux marriage.

“Bajabule.” He hums, taking a sip of his drink.

You think you can get used to being engaged to Josh Kiszka.

• • •

Day Seven:

For those of us in the crowd who have never been on a cruise, there’s always a day on board where you have to dress fancy and nice, and the captain makes this speech, it’s called the captain’s dinner.

When you got engaged to your fiancé, you decided that on this captain’s dinner night, you would book a private, romantic dinner to have a moment of peace before the wedding.

And, like everything else regarding your ex and the wedding, it was nonrefundable, and you were planning on either doing it on your own or giving it to someone else who could enjoy it.

Then, you met Josh. And you had a reason to go.

So, you ask Josh that morning to come with you to this dinner before you leave for breakfast.

“Like a date?” He asks. You smile. Except for swimming and showering, you haven’t taken off your ring.

“Exactly like a date. Be my date tonight, Honey.”

He puts his hand on your cheek.

“Anything for you, Doll.”

So, you spend the whole day excited for your date. You have breakfast with your parents, and then spend the afternoon with your sister and brother, while your sister-in-law takes your nephew and parents to the beach.

You tell them about Josh, and they share this look, you’re not sure what it means, you’re too busy admiring your ring and gushing about how funny and handsome he is.

Your sister sits on your bed, all dressed with her son on her lap as you get ready. You’re nervous and you’re not sure why. Josh gets ready with his brothers.

“You look great,” Your sister assures.

“I just don’t know why I’m so nervous!”

“Maybe because this is your first first date in six years?” That could be it.

“But it’s not with just any random guy, it’s Josh. He’s so casual and cool about everything.”

“Is that supposed to make you feel better?” You see her point.

You sigh and take one last look in the mirror, before slipping on your ring. You turn to your sister.

“How do I look?” Your hair and makeup is nice, and your outfit looks really good on you.

“You look amazing. If he doesn’t like the way you look tonight, he’s not worth it.” You want him to be worth it. You want it desperately; in a way you never knew you could want.

“Thanks.” You smile, nervously. You hear a knock on the door and open it to see him standing there. He wears a white button up with the top two buttons undone, as well as black pants. He’s so good looking it almost kills you.

“Hi.” He grins. “You look amazing.”

“You look amazing.” You respond. You lean forward and kiss his cheek, and he peeks into the room to see your sister and nephew. He greets them and smiles, before taking your hand in his.

“Ready to go?” You nod and tell your sister to give everyone at dinner your love before you head out for your date. Dinner is at this candlelit restaurant, where you and Josh sit at a private table behind this beaded curtain.

“This place is so nice..” You tell him. “I don’t know If I’ve ever been on a first date this fancy.” You confess. He smiles.

“Me neither. It’s beautiful here.” He takes your hand that rests on the table. Your waitress comes in with a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket, introducing herself as Anna, and telling you about the menu for tonight.

“The chef has chosen five courses for our patrons tonight. It isn’t the same as last night’s dishes nor will it be the same as tomorrow’s. It’s preselected, so if there’s any allergies, just let me know. Now, I understand that we’re celebrating a special occasion tonight.” She hums as she pours the two of you champagne.

You look to Josh and wait for him to make up some story about wanting peace and quiet before you get married. Instead, he looks to Anna and says,

“First date. I think this one might just stick, too.”

“First date on a cruise ship? My, what a fairytale.” She smiles. “Well, we hope to give you a night to remember and a start to something wonderful.” She tells you both. “I’ll be back with your first course, soon. Enjoy the champagne, my friends.” She leaves, and you look to Josh.

“Why didn’t you tell her we’re supposed to be engaged?”

“I don’t think she’s the type to tell on us. Besides, this is real. I meant what I said, I want you to stick around...”

“I want you to stick around too.” You confess. You make conversation, getting to know each other through dinner. It’s all delicious, really. Over dessert, you decide that you can’t take it anymore. “I’m having a great time.”

“Me too.”

“I wouldn’t have asked anyone else to go on this date with me.” You confess.

“I would hope not.” He smiled.

“No, Josh, I’m being serious. It has shocked me to my core, but I’m finding myself wanting you more and more.” You tell him, your eyes meet his. “I think one of the best decisions I ever made was giving you that ticket.”

He says your name softly, and when he’s not saying anything like this back to you, you feel tears in your eyes. Is it possible that this man you’ve found yourself falling for has been playing pretend the whole time, the way you were meant to be as well?

“I’m sorry...” You say shakily. “I thought that... That maybe you’d feel the same way about me, but I was- “He squeezes your hand softly.

“Stop. I do want you… I want you so badly it’s destroying me to not have you.” He tells you. Your face flushes. “I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you, and I’ve been thanking whatever force that exists in the universe for meeting you.” He confesses.

Before you can respond, Anna comes back, asking if you want anything else, more champagne, perhaps?

“Can you have someone send it to our room in about two hours?” Josh asks. Anna, who must get that request often, thinks nothing of it.

“Of course. Enjoy the rest of your night, young lovers.” She leaves, and Josh leaves her a generous cash tip, before standing up and grabbing your hand again.

“Come on.” He tells you, and you follow him, curious as to what he has planned. There’s something in his eyes, a spark he gets when he has an idea. You follow him out of the restaurant, your hand locked into his, as you lean your head on his shoulder. He walks with you, all the way up to the top deck of the ship, where it’s quiet and the stars are plentiful. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the way you’re looking at him. But Josh leans forward and kisses you, and it’s full of a gentleness you haven’t felt in years.

Your hands land on his jaw, as you deepen the kiss slightly, the night air and the passion you feel sends a shiver down your spine, only amplified by Josh’s hands on your hips.

He pulls away for a moment, looking to you.

“Let me take you back to our room.” He says softly.

“To do what?” You ask in a teasing voice. He groans and kisses you again before pulling away to add,

“So, I can make you feel good, Doll. So, I can watch you in pleasure underneath me.” He tells you. His voice is low, and there’s a lust you haven’t heard before.

“Okay.” You tell him.

“Okay?”

“Yes. Yes, Josh, please take me back to the room and fuck me.”

“As you wish, Doll.”

And he does exactly that.

• • •

Day Eight:

Your entire body aches when you wake up, tangled in sheets and in Josh’s arms. You feel amazing. Your eyes flutter open to see him admiring you, and you bury your face in the pillow as you groan. He laughs, his hand gently tracing patterns into your shoulder blade.

“Good morning, Pumpkin.” He says gently, kissing your ear.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” You tell him, before finally picking your head up to look at him. “Josh, I think you’re something equivalent to a sex god.” You say honestly. He laughs.

“Thank you, Baby.” He hums. “Wanna order room service?” He asks.

“Nah... I want you to do that thing you did last night, the one that made me scream.” You reply, and he has this smirk on his lips that makes you want him desperately.

“As you wish.”

You don’t get out of bed until lunch time, and even then, he joins you in the shower.

• • •

Day Nine:

Jake has to beg his brother to come up for air and ask you to join them for drinks that night. He’s worried, maybe that you’ll be scared off by the three of them, or maybe you’ll realize you don’t like him as much.

But you’re thrilled to get to know them, and you head down to the bar around six for drinks and dancing.

“Hey guys!” Sam calls over to you when he sees you. Josh still seems nervous, and you don’t really understand it. You both like each other more than you can put into words, so why is he so nervous for you to meet the three men he calls brothers?

Well, because his brothers are assholes.

You slid into the booth next to Jake, and you go to engage him in conversation. Instead, Sammy loudly calls over to the bartender. “Hey! My brothers getting married next week, how about some shots?”

Josh looks like he might die.

“I am so sorry about him—” You laugh, leaning against him as you try to contain your laughs.

“No, No, it’s funny, I’m glad you told them about it.” You turn back to the boys. “How are you guys enjoying the cruise so far?”

“It’s been great!” Danny yells over the music. “The beaches are so nice!”

“Did Josh tell you about the private beach we found?’

“Yeah! He also told me about the two of you conning your way into free drinks and shit!”

“It’s technically not a lie! I was supposed to be married on Thursday, just not to Josh.” You explain, and Sam laughs.

“You know, Josh has been doing nothing but talk about you, but you’re much funnier than he mentioned.” He hums. You glance over to Josh, who just blushes and rolls his eyes.

“You talked about me? What sort of things does he talk about?”

“Let’s not embarrass him, guys.” Jake says a smirk on his face.

“Thank you, Jake—”

“His new beau doesn’t need to know that he’s constantly gushing about ‘em!” The boys all break out in laughter, and you can’t help but giggle a bit. Josh is overly embarrassed.

“Douchebags! All of you are assholes!” He laughed, not really mad at them. He’s just enamored with you, and despite sleeping with you and telling you as much, it’s still a little bit embarrassing. Not that he’s embarrassed of you, but he finds himself falling for you more and more as the days go by. It’s hard to verbalize.

“Aw, Joshy, they’re just having fun, honey.” You hum. Leaning over and kissing his cheek, a habit you’re finding yourself getting more and more used to.

Shots land in front of the five of you, and Sam holds his up.

“To the happy couple!” You all drink your shots, and you think something crazy.

You think maybe you could get used to doing this. Being a part of their group. Being close to him, to them.

Maybe you could do this for the rest of your life.

You blame it on the alcohol, this feeling that this could last forever.

But when you look at Josh, you’re just enamored by him, in a way that’s deeper than just being a fan or just a crush.

And it crosses your mind for a second.

This crazy idea.

You kiss Josh quick, forgetting about the idea, blaming it on the alcohol again.

• • •

Day Ten:

You wake up with this wicked hangover, and to your disdain, Josh is nowhere to be found. You decide to get dressed and grab breakfast, figuring he’ll either text you or find you when he wants to see you.

But every few moments you’re turning as if you want to say something to him.

It’s frustrating because you know how crazy it is that you like him so much.

And it’s scary because you haven’t felt this way in a long time, maybe even a year or two, because with Josh, you realize how much you weren’t in love with your ex-fiancé, and it’s wild because you thought you’d marry him.

But it’s different with Josh, Better, most definitely. That thought from last night comes back, and you can’t blame it on the liquor anymore, and you can’t blame it on Josh looking amazing in bar lighting, and you can’t blame it on how connected you feel to his brothers because they aren’t around.

Your hand drifts to your ring finger, and you play with your ring, thinking about Josh. You wonder what will happen when you get off this ship. You wonder how it would be taking weekly trips to Nashville, especially when the school year starts and you’re busy with grading and lesson plans.

It all seems totally ridiculous. Why bother then?

But you keep coming back to it. This crazy idea, like an itch you just can’t scratch. You want to verbalize it, you want to ask it of Josh, but you realize how damn wild it is.

Maybe he’ll like that.

You’re lost in your thoughts when you feel a hand on the small of your back. You grin.

“You know, Honey, I—” When you turn around, you don’t find Josh. You find some random asshole who is already drunk, because, when in Rome. “Get the fuck off me, Dude.” You move away from him.

“What’s the matter? You seemed into it before—”

“I thought you were someone else.”

“Oh, you got a little boyfriend?”

“Fiancé, actually.”  Like magic, Josh appears behind the stranger. He looks angry. He looks jealous. He looks hot. “Is there a problem here?” he asked, tilting his head. He moves to you and wraps his arm around your waist.

“No problem, man.” The creepy dude backs off, walking off. Josh looks to you and cups his hand to your cheek.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You say softly, “I’m okay...” You bite your tongue, before adding, “That was sort of hot—”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, not that asshole, you! Being protective of me like that… I’m not used to it.”

“Oh… Well—”

“And you were jealous. So hot.”

“I was not jealous!”

“Honey, you most totally were! It was so so attractive.”

“Why?” He seems genuine.

“Because... C’mon, I have to tell you a story, but we gotta go sit down so I can tell it.” You sigh. You wind up leaving the restaurant and sitting on a beach chair on the top deck. He keeps his hand on your thigh as you relax. Your heart is beating rapidly, and you’re not sure why you’re so anxious, but Josh seems to sense this.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just hate this story…” You take a deep breath before you begin. “I was with my ex for about five years. He asked me to marry him after we booked this cruise, and I don’t know why I said yes… Maybe I loved him, but I wasn’t… In love with him like everyone describes I should be... But he never did anything romantic for me, no flowers, no sexy things, certainly no jealousy… So, I’m not sure why the cheating on me destroyed me so much, but it did. I haven’t felt anything for anyone since then. Until you.” You told him, and he just has this focused look on his face.

“He sounds horrible.” You laugh, tears falling from your face that you didn’t even realize you had. He wipes them tenderly.

“Yeah...” You say softly, leaning into his touch.

“Wanna hear my sob story now?”

“Sure, Honey.”

“I’m falling in love with someone who I met last week and might never see again after Saturday.”

“Josh...”

“We don’t have to ruin anything with commitment, we don’t…” His breath is shaky, and you catch tears running down his face, too. “I just need you to know that I’m falling in love with you, and I have no intentions of staying away from you or stopping that process.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to. Never.” You tell him earnestly. “I’m falling in love with you too.” You wipe his tears. Even crying, your boy is beautiful.

“Well, then we’ll just hope that the ship sinks before it docks so we can go down in history as the lovers who should’ve made it.” He smiles. It makes you cry harder, offering all this comfort but no happiness. Josh frowns and wraps his arms around you. “I’m sorry for making you cry.”

“It’s okay…” You whisper. “You have this way with words... It makes it hard not to be moved or not to fall deeper in love with you.”

“I thought we agreed no preventing the inevitable like falling in love with each other?” You pull away from the hug and wipe his tears. He kisses yours away.

“Right, well I’m instilling a new rule. Not preventing us from falling in love with each other. No more tears, either Kiszka?” You hold out your pinky. He links your pinkies together and then you both kiss the ends of your hands on instinct, giggling when you realize you both did it without words. It’s like an invisible string that had connected you all this time.

“You got it, Doll.” He says softly, before leaning forward and kissing you gently. You decide not to worry too much about it, realizing that if the universe was smart enough to bring you and Josh together for these two weeks, you’d find your way back to each other again. How could you not?

You were falling in love with each other, after all.

• • •

Day Eleven:

You wake up the next day to your favorite sight. Josh tangled in the sheets with you, but for once he’s still asleep. You love it. You wound up spending the day with him and then going to dinner with your family, the night full of laughs, because Josh is just so God damn charming.

He’s so pretty.

You grab your phone from your dresser and then take a photo of him, all sleepy and shining under the sunlight.

His eyes flutter open after a few minutes of you admiring him.

“Well, good morning, Pumpkin.” He says in this low morning voice. Your fingers play with his hair,

“Good morning, sunshine.” You grin, leaning down and kissing his head. He turns to you and smiles.

“What do you have planned for today?” At this question, you groan. Fuck, you forgot everything you have to do today.

“I have a meeting with a notary, who doubles as the cruise line’s wedding coordinator, that I was supposed to go to with my ex…” You sigh. “But now I gotta go and tell them that no, I am not getting married, and that the ceremony is going to be a renewal of vows for my parents.” You sigh and rub your eyes. Josh looks at you, and he has that idea spark in his eyes. You see it, and he knows you see it. “What? What is it?” You ask.

For a moment, you wonder if he has the same idea that you’ve had for the past few days. But that’s crazy, why would he possibly think that you two should go through with it, that you two should get married?

“What if we went through with it? Getting married, I mean?”

Well, I’ll be damned. He did have that thought.

“Josh—” You grin, and he shakes his head, burying his face in his pillow.

“Never mind, that’s dumb, I’m sorry…” He sighs. “We just met, it’s a completely crazy idea, I just can’t get it out of my head, and—”

“Let’s do it.”

“What?”

“Let’s get married.”  What the fuck are you talking about? Why would you agree to this? “It’s bonkers.”

“I completely agree.” He speaks. “You need a dress.”

“We need rings.”

“We need to tell our families…” You grab your phone and start to make a list. Get notarized, get a dress, get rings, tell families. That’s the list.

Busy busy day. Josh takes your hand and kisses the back of it, squeezing your hand. Then, you get up and head off to shower.

As the two of you get ready to meet the notary, you begin to realize how crazy this is. You met Josh what? Ten, eleven days ago? How did you manage to fall in love with him so quickly? You try not to think too much about it. Worst case scenario, you get an annulment, right?

You’re getting married to a rockstar and you’re not even a groupie.

Josh meets you at the door and takes your hand, and you begin to grow nervous. Not to get married but to tell your parents. This was a wild idea that you most definitely did not see them approving of. But you’re an adult, you can make your own choices.

Josh squeezes your hand when you get into the elevator. As the doors close, you begin to kiss him, full of this need.

Eventually, you do make it to your notary, Linda.

“Hi! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Austin—”

“No, actually. Mr. and Mrs. Josh Kiszka, and I have no intention of being Mrs. Josh. Mrs. Kiszka is fine.” You smile.

“Oh, my mistake. I didn’t realize—”

“Spur of the moment decision. Which, I know is crazy and you probably don’t get that a lot, but—”

“Elopements of all types are extremely common especially in the vacation business.” She assures. “And honestly, I met my wife and knew I wanted to marry her after a week. Some people wait years to get married and only last for a few months. Others get married after two weeks and stay together for the rest of their lives. When you know, you know.” She advises. You like that, and grin.

“When you know, you know.” You repeat. “What do we have to do to get married?” She hands you two forms for a marriage license and goes through them with you.

“And are you going to take his last name?”

Kiszka. Mrs. Kiszka. You imagine your students calling you that, imagine the name on your ID, on a sign in your home.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.” You smile. She guides you through the steps to do that on the marriage license.  It takes a while, but you eventually get the licenses filled out, and Linda takes them back.

“Amazing. I’m going to make sure everything looks good here and give you confirmation tomorrow. At the very least, you get married by the captain tomorrow and then when you get back to the states, you’ll fill out the license again, and celebrate your anniversary as tomorrow not when the license goes through.” That seems simple enough.

“Thank you.” You tell her. Josh parrots you, and Linda just smiles.

“Of course. I wish you two a very long and happy marriage.” She says, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yeah, you remember how we said this was last minute?” She nods. “Where can we get rings and a wedding dress?”

She directs you to a small boutique on the island you’re docked at, somewhere that has lots of gowns for stupid decisions like yours. Then, she tells you there’s a jeweler on board. Is there anything this ship doesn’t have?

So you head off to the jewelers first, and you, honestly, spend more time doing this than anything else. You look at black bands, and they’re not your style. You look at silver, but it really doesn’t go with the gold ring you got the other day.

Then you land on these gold wedding bands. They’re engraved with leaf patterns, and the jeweler advertises custom ring carvings in less than 24 hours.

“Hey,” He says to the attendant at the counter. “Can we see the gold bands?” He takes them out and hands them to you, and you both place it on your right ring finger. It’s bad luck to try them on your left hand, right?

They fit like gloves.

Josh glances up to the attendant. “How long would it take to engrave our initials into each other’s rings with tomorrow’s date?”

“Couple of hours. You can pick them up tomorrow morning.” He tells you two, and Josh nods.

“Great.” He tells him your initials and his, so that he gets them right, and hands him his card.

Your next step is the boutique. And you stop Josh before you go into the boutique.

“Wait here.”

“What?”

“It’s bad luck to see my wedding dress before the day of.” He scoffs, playfully.

“We’re getting married tomorrow, doll. Besides, we’re not really traditional.” He has a point, but you shake your head.

“C’mon, for me? I won’t be long.” You play with his collar. He kisses you gently, and nods.

“Okay, okay. Good luck with your shopping.” He tells you, and you kiss him quickly before heading over to find yourself a wedding dress.

You don’t find a bunch of white options, but here are your options:

The first is a pretty silk thing but it makes your proportions look bizarre. So, you move on.

The second makes you look like a Mormon, with long sleeves and a turtleneck. It goes down to your ankles and is made of a heavy fabric. No, thank you.

The third is a new age dress that is white with complex black designs. You appreciate the look, but you decide it isn’t for you.

The fourth one is one you weren’t excited about, but then when you try it on, it’s all you want. It’s a 50’s style cut, and it comes down just past your knees, with a corset top. But the skirt and corset has floral designs, with the skirt being a thin lace layer with the flower print. It’s gorgeous, and it almost makes you cry to see yourself in the mirror.

It exudes spring energy. You think about Josh’s face when he sees you walk down the aisle.

You go to pay for it at the counter, and you pick up a pair of simple white heels, and a pearl necklace.

There’s a bouquet of flowers that sits by the counter. You get an idea when you see them and throw them into the pile of wedding things you have.

“Special occasion?” The cashier asks, an amused smile on their face as they ring you up.

“My wedding day tomorrow.”

“It’s a beautiful dress.” They hum. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” You hum, a blush filling your cheeks.  They put the dress in a garment bag, so it isn’t visible, and you hold the bag in the other hand.

“How’d you make out?” Josh asks.

“Lovley. I even got myself accessories.” You grin. Josh leans forward and kisses you quickly.

“My bride to be…”

“My husband to be.” You say softly. “We need to text our families. Maybe we could have them meet us for dinner and tell them then?”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” He says. You whip out your phones and spend a few minutes texting your families on the cruise asking them to dinner. Then, you turn back to your husband to be, for real, not just to get free things.

“Wanna go back to our cabin...?” You smirk. “We should engage in premarital… activities.”

“Oh, Doll… You’ll be the death of me...” He growls, taking your hand and leading you back to the ship.

You spend your time until dinner doing your favorite things with Josh, and then you spend about two hours fashioning your bouquet of flowers into a flower crown, leaving a few to tuck into Josh’s hair and suit pocket.

He was off grabbing coffees for the two of you, when there’s a knock on your door. You answer it, and it’s your sister. Oh.

“Hey!” You grin, going back to your work on the flower crown.

“Hey, why’d you ask your roommate and his family to join us for dinner?” She hums. You’re about to answer when she looks around the room. She sees the garment bag hanging from your bathroom door, the white shoes and pearls, flowers scattered around the room. Her eyes land on the gold wedding bands on your dresser. She says your name, before adding, “You aren’t…”

“Listen, I know how crazy it is—”

“It’s more than crazy!” She says, sitting on the bed with you. “You’ve known him for a week!”

“…Ten days.” You say, a little ashamed, your older sister disapproving of your choices.

“C’mon.” She says.

“Mom and Dad have been married for twenty years.” You say. “They got married after six months. Arthur and Veroncia got married after a year! You had a baby with a guy who you aren’t even dating anymore. So what if I’ve only known him for a week? Who gives a shit? People have gotten married after a week and stayed together their entire life, others get engaged after five years and don’t even make it to marriage!” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “Maybe it’s a mistake. But it’ll be the best god damn mistake of my life, so just stand by the alter and look pretty for me.” You ask.

She looks at you for a few minutes.

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll be there. You’re right, it could be a mistake, but it could be amazing.” She hums. “You have a nicer man than I do.” She grins. You laugh and hug her. “Now let me see your dress, Mrs. Kiszka!”

That night at dinner, you hold Josh’s hand nervously, as if he’ll float away if you let go. Your two families get along great. Your parents love his, your siblings quickly get accustomed to his, and your nephew sits on Josh’s lap, and they entertain each other.

Between Dinner and Dessert, when your nephew returns to his seat, you stand up and gently clink your glass for everyone’s attention.

“Hi everybody. Thanks so much for coming tonight,” Is this a rehearsal dinner? “So, a few of you might have noticed my ring, and uh—It started as a joke. To get free stuff.” You say, earning a few laughs at the table. “But it developed into something more.” You look to Josh. “And what I’m about to say, is crazy, I know that. And I’ve been thinking about it for a few days, and nothing has ever felt so right. So support us or not, I don’t care. This is what’s happening and—”

“Spit it out already!” Your dad laughs. You pause, your hands shaking. Josh takes it in his.

“So, Josh and I are getting married tomorrow.”

Silence. No response. You feel tears in your eyes.

“Mozel Tov!” Your mom gasps, standing up and going over to the two of you. She hugs you tightly, and her congratulations break the tension of the table as the rest of them come over to congratulate you.

Anyone who has reservations against your decisions keep them to themselves. Jake comes over to congratulate you two, and suddenly Josh is nervous again.

“Congrats, man!”

“You’re not mad?” Josh asks.

“Mad? You’re marrying a girl you met last week. That is so rock and roll!” He pulls josh into a hug, and then he hugs you. “Oh, good luck, hot stuff.” He hums and kisses your cheek. You feel loved.

“Good,” Josh grins, “Because you’re going to be my best man.” You turn to your parents.

“You’re not mad?” You ask.

“No, of course not. It’s crazy, but you’re an adult. If you love him, you need to do what’s best for you.” You grin.

“Thank you. We should schedule a different renewal of your vows, too, and—” Your dad hugs you.

After dessert, you hold your nephew in your arms, and he’s sleepy.

“Is Josh gonna be my uncle?” He asks softly, and you smile, kissing his head.

“Yeah. I think so...”

“Good. He’s cool…” You look at Josh and admire him laughing with your sister and his brothers.

“Yeah. I think so too.”

• • •

Day Twelve:

Your wedding day goes by way too quickly, and before you know it? You’re slipping on your heels and clipping the pearl necklace around your neck. Your phone rings.

It’s Josh.

“Hey, Honey. What’s going on?” You ask.

“Doll, there’s a photographer by the venue, was this planned?”

Shit. You forgot about that.

“Yeah, uh, let her take photos of you and our families, and she’ll photograph the ceremony. Then, she’ll take photos of the happy couple.”

“Oh yeah? And who would that be?”

“I love you, Joshua.”

“I love you.” He says your name. You hang up, and your parents are knocking at your door. You open it, and they’re speechless at your ensemble.

“Does Arthur have the wedding rings?” You ask, hoping he’ll give them to your nephew.

“Oh, baby, you look beautiful.” Your mom coos, and it hits you.

You’re getting married.

You grin, and head down to the small venue that has been put together on the ship. The photographer takes a few photos of you, and you’re suddenly happy you paid for the whole package.

And then it’s time. Your parents walk you down the aisle, and when you see Josh standing there, his brothers as his best men, your sister stands with your nephew on the other side of the alter. You kiss your parents quickly, before you stand in front of Josh, taking his hands. Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

“Hey.” You say softly.

“Hi…”

“This is crazy, right?” You whisper.

“Absolutely. You look amazing.” He hums. It’s funny because he looks ethereal. The flowers in his hair look amazing.

“You look amazing.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

The captain, your officiant, begins the usual--- Telling everyone why they’re here, about life and death.

“Do you two want to say a few words?” He asks.

“I’ll go.” Josh says gently. “For a long time, I never thought I’d find anyone who could keep up with me. Who could love me for all the parts of me… And then you came along and immediately, you showed me this infinite kindness. I knew I would never get over you in that moment. I love you. And I hope this marriage is an infinite source of happiness and wild adventures. And if not, fuck it—” He cringes, realizing he used fuck in his wedding vows, “Fuck it. Let’s make it a crazy and fun marriage even if it only lasts a week.” You almost kiss him right there and then.

“Josh, I don’t… I never really thought I’d fall in love again. I never thought I would fall in love with anyone again. I… I thought that maybe… Maybe I was unlovable or...” You play with his fingers. “Whatever. But when I met you, I realized that I didn’t know what love was before you came into my life. And since I’ve met you, life has just been crazy, full of love and this… this general glow for life. I love you. I love you deeper than anyone I’ve ever known, and I like to think we have a golden type of love. I’ll love you forever, no matter what. Marriage or not.”

You realize you’re crying and Josh wipes your tears.

“I thought we promised no more crying, doll.”

“Sorry, Honey.” You whisper.

The Captain smiles and looks to you.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health? In richer and in poorer? For better and for worse?”

“I do.” A ring is slipped onto your finger.

He turns to Josh.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health? In richer and in poorer? For better and for worse?”

“I do.” You slip a ring onto his.

“You may now kiss the bride.” And he does. He places his hands on your hips and pulls you in, kissing you deeply.

The rest of forever starts now, and with Josh by your side, that doesn’t seem so daunting.

• • •

Day Thirteen:

Only technically is it day thirteen.

After the ceremony, the photographer dragged you and Josh off to take photos, and then you went to dinner. You had cake, and then the party really started. Josh’s parents and your own call it an early night and promise to watch over your nephew.

The rest of you go out and drink until you and Josh stumble off into the night. It’s around two a.m., maybe three.

You lay on the beach chairs that you had your talk on back on day ten. Josh holds your hand as you listen to the waves crash, and even drunk, you admire the stars from the top deck.

“Honey?”

“Yeah, Doll?”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“What happens when we get off the boat..?”

“We…” he sighs softly. “We try long distance. We can make It work until we decide to move in together.”

“It’ll probably be a while, unless I can get a job before the school year starts in Nashville...”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“And when you go on tour?”

“You’ll knit on our porch and wait for me to come back.”

“You’ll write songs about me?”

“Baby, every song is about you.” You kiss his cheek. “It’s all about you...” He hums.

You listen to the waves crashing as Josh starts to sing you something. Light My Love, you think.

It makes you realize you’ll never regret marrying him.

• • •

Day Fourteen:

You have to get off the ship early. Like, eight a.m. and you have to say goodbye to Josh.

You say goodbye to his parents, his sister, and then his brothers. Jake holds you close for a while, and then tells you,

“See you around, Sister. Be strong, yeah?” You smile and kiss his cheek. He climbs into the car, and you’re left with Josh.

Your husband.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he places his hands on your waist.

“I love you.” You whisper. “Don’t be a stranger...”

“A stranger? How could I ever be a stranger to my wife? I love you. We’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together, doll. I don’t give a fuck about distance. You’re the only thing that’s ever been easy.”

“I’m a real hassle.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

“I want a divorce.” You giggle. He laughs and kisses you, pulling you close. He hugs you for a while. Neither of you say anything. You want to cry. But you don’t. You maintain your composure. You begin planning, you’ll drive up to Nashville next weekend, you’ll make it work.

You have no other options.

None.

You have to be with him. It’s like breathing, it’s the most natural thing in the entire world.

“I love you.” He says, pulling away to look at you. “Doll, I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, honey.” You kiss him one more time, and then he leaves. He climbs into his car, and you start to cry on the walk back to your car. Your family says nothing, and you just cry as you start to drive. Your nephew frowns, and looks down at his dinosaur blanket, that always makes him feel better. He takes your hand in his and doesn’t say anything.

You begin to look for teaching jobs in Nashville, searching for apartments too. As you’re searching for something, you get a text.

“Good morning, by the way, Pumpkin. See you soon?” You smile and wipe your tears, before texting back.

“good morning, sunshine. see you soon.”

[gatitties]

Hey there, weird request but could you do maybe like I usually goth and quiet reader who seems like they'd hate white girl music, gets drunk, and starts Screaming/singing "call me maybe", and professes their love for Taylor Swift? Just a silly request from a silly delulu girl😍😋thanks babes👍

─Strawhats, Kid Pirates & Whitebeard Pirates x reader

─Summary: You swear you hate white girl music and yet it only takes a little alcohol for you to know all the songs you swore you hated.

─Warnings: none

nahh it's okay, here we're all delulu (me too 😔🤌🏻)

─ You spend a large part of the day listening to music, either in private or at a respectable volume in meetings so as not to disturb.

─ Everyone knows your tastes and how much you complain about music, especially if it's white girl music, they will never hear you listening to that kind of stuff.

─ You argue a lot with Brook about songs and sometimes Franky joins in, since they are both the ones who precede you in your obsession with listening to music at all hours.

─ Now, your sober and drunk side are different people, or at least, concepts of your personality that others should forget, we are not going to review all the embarrassing things you have done while drunk.

─ But something that they remind you constantly like breathing was that time you had too many drinks that your body couldn't handle.

─ It was in a bar while you were celebrating having liberated another island from some random tyrant, the atmosphere was great and you loved the music that accompanied it, but the moment you crossed that line, between sobriety and drunkenness, that's when you lost it.

─ You went crazy when “call me maybe” started playing, shouting at the top of your lungs, some of your comrades looked at you suspiciously, Luffy just followed you while Brook thought you were an imposter.

─ Robin had to take you to the boat that night while you ranted about your favorite artists, being the complete opposite of what you used to listen to on a daily basis, she wasn't the only one, because Nami ended up learning Taylor Swift's entire discography.

─ They asked Chopper for something to put you to sleep because you couldn't stop humming songs even with your eyes closed.

─ Nobody, absolutely nobody except Heat, listened to that kind of music.

─ You expressed countless times your most sincere hatred towards white girl music, throwing hate at the main artists or songs in particular, everyone at Victoria Punk knew about your dislike towards the genre.

─ Maybe the only one who caught you listening to those songs was Wire, but you threatened to cut out his tongue if he said a single word about this.

─ Although it wasn't necessary, when in one of the many celebrations for defeating any strong opponent, you got drunk, putting aside your hatred and embracing your tastes closely that night.

─ Kid almost choked on his beer when he saw how both you and Heat started a dance battle that ended with both of you singing “Last Friday Night.”

─ Taking advantage of the fact that the next morning you would regret it, he recorded everything to show you, making fun of you was always fun for your captain, especially if it was his revenge for recording him canoodling with Killer at the previous party.

─ Even when most of the crew got tired or fainted from exhaustion, you continued giving your concert.

─ Killer had to drag you back to your bed after you vomited a couple of times on the way, listening to how you would describe fun facts from the album "1989", he patted you on the back and left you, hoping you wouldn't throw up again.

─ The next day you chased Kid all over the ship to erase that singing video from existence.

─ Only Thatch knew about your guilty taste for that type of music, he was also a secret fan, since no one used to enter the kitchen apart from him and a couple of other people, you took advantage of that time to do private concerts.

─ The problem was that Ace discovered you while he was trying to steal food, and sometimes he has just enough neurons.

─ Probably not all the crew knew your musical tastes, but most definitely knew what kind of music you didn't like, because you were always complaining if any of those songs came on the radio.

─ Oh, everyone missed how you enjoyed the songs, moving your lips singing in silence.

─ The fact is that Ace, in one of his brilliant ideas, took you on stage in the middle of a party, although it wasn't something that caught everyone's attention, it definitely caught the attention of your closest people.

─ Not only were you drunk, but you also started singing “Don't let me down” with Thatch with everything you had, Ace joined in, slurring the lyrics but following the rhythm.

─ Izo knew it was time to get you off the stage when you started to wobble more than necessary, you hugged him to keep from falling, listing each of Taylor Swift's albums and each favorite song from her respective album.

─ The next morning you had completely forgotten what happened that night, more concerned with receiving Marco's hangover pills, he made fun of you for your performance but since you didn't remember it you just told him he dreamed it or something.

─ It was Whitebeard who made you remember what you had done that night, completely embarrassed not by singing those songs, but by the drunkenness you had gotten, you are glad to have such an understanding father right now.

[rainbowstargazerlilies]

Mechs Ships Tournament: Shipping Round 4 Poll 1

Propaganda:

Polymechs:

They're inseparable they hate each other they would die for each other they actively enjoy killing each other ect ect ect

Look they're immortal and stuck in a spaceship you don't think they've hit all possible combinations over the years and settled into a weird comfortable vibe you can only get if youve murdered, been murdered, and had sex with every one (maybe minus nastya) of your friends?

immortal space pirats.... cuddle piles, romantic... not romanticm... poly mechs <3

(Points to every album) there thats my propaganda. But in all seriousness they are a group of immortals with nothing to do but sing and love each other in their own fucked up ways <3 

Chaotic little guys on a ship for a long time, the relationship web they got going on could rival the coven web

you cant tell me you would live with people for millions of years without it getting even a little gay.

Polygamy

when you spend millennia doing music and violence and shenanigans with the same 8 other people on a ship (and when the ship is technically another person), there's bound to be some group canoodling

i care them

they're everything to each other!!!

i refuse to pick

it’s polymechs!! what isn’t to love

Look at them.

how could you pick individual ships when they are so good together!! with the exception of nastya + jonny cos they are siblings your honour.

a lot of people have polymechs with her and aurora being monogamous but she canonically has queer orgies. on mechs tumblr account she describes herself as "The only one seemingly capable of a committed, responsible and fair relationship" so polymechs with all of relationships besides nastyaurora being on and off and everchanging is both the best polymechs and the most canon compliant polymechs to me

The idea that they're crewmates. You ask one of them what their relationship is with another and they say, "That's my crewmate". And then, maybe one of them meets someone on another ship, and they mention they don't have strong feelings about someone because, "they're only my crewmate" And they just cannot comprehend the idea of being crewmates with someone and not having strong feelings about them. They're immortal and half of them hate life, but even if that wasn't true, they'd die for any of the others a million times over. They've murdered billions of people on a whim, but even if that wasn't true, they'd murder anyone if it made one of their crewmate's lives a bit better. Remember how Tim blew up a moon for Bertie? He had only known Bertie for about 10 years. What would he do for people he had known for about 10 millennia? What would Ashes do for the people who would never betray them? What would Nastya do for the people who would always spend time with her and never die? What would Brian do for the people who would always forgive him for following his beliefs? What would Raphaella do for the people who are always willing to help her with her experiments? What would Ivy do for the people who'd always stay and tell their stories? What would the Toy Soldier do for the people who only ordered it to do what it wants to do and always lets it be involved? What would Jonny do for the people he could never permanently hurt? What would Marius do for his family? They all love each other more than anything, even if they don't have the words for it. (via @mchasmfiend)

Loki/Sigyn:

https://youtu.be/TdKCUmOa5Jw?si=Y3owraM96zp4kdrs and https://youtu.be/nxVjWJJmt9Q?si=76dQ6LBg00eldlUY

anti ship lesbians/sappics

Transgender lesbian anarchists.

spsaphics

Round-up for the round here :)

[starcrossedimps]

"Hell's Worst Secret"

The more and more I think about that phrase, and the more I've rewatched the scenes, I think there's a specific distinction that's not exactly...clear? I mean, on the face of it, it seems kind of weird for it to be such a big deal for Fizzozzie to be exposed, especially if everyone knows they're already romantic.

But here's the thing: I don't think the people in hell do.

Here's my rationale:

As a baseline, I think everyone knows Fizz and Ozzie are fucking. This makes sense. They've been working together for probably a near decade, and the nature of their business--at least at Ozzie's--is very sexual. It's probably commonplace for people to just fuck for fun or for a good show. And for Ozzie to be the King of Lust? Who knows it's probably kind of expected that all his employees get at least one romp, and maybe more if they're talented (and I don't think anyone would question Fizz being talented).

And I think it's this relationship that Crim is thinking he's exploiting.

Think about it. From his perspective, everyone knows that Ozzie and Fizz are absolutely fucking. There's probably even a rumor that Fizz is the primary person Ozzie gets his fill from, if not the only one. So. What would be more valuable to the King of Lust than his little impish fuck toy (and how utterly embarrassing, for the king to be satisfied by someone of a lower station). Crim's not smart, but I also don't think he's stupid enough to try to win by cutting off the head of the Sin's actual romantic consort (which would have happened if Stolas wasn't there). The guy would have been totally incinerated (there was nothing spoken in the contract that would keep Ozzie from having him killed, as far as we know). Besides, if he kills a little imp toy, there's plenty of others--and how embarrassing would it be for a Sin to throw a tantrum over just one imp?

So here comes the second part.

Fizz and Ozzie aren't quiet about sleeping together--but NO ONE can know it's romantic.

Fizz being carried around? Fine, he's probably being taken to bed. Nuzzling? Absolutely the fuck not except in private. Making lewd jokes? Highly encouraged. Talking about how wonderful the other one is in public? Satan's tits no way.

So people know they're fucking. And that they have been for a while. And they're probably not subtle about that part at all (hello literally their whole show in Ozzie's). I mean, Fizz seems to live at Ozzie's place so there's no way the succubi don't know.

But that's the thing. The succubi have the MOST exposure to what's going on, and yet even THEY seem shocked by the whole canoodling. Which means they thought it was just sexual, too.

But let's shift to the general public: what happens when two dudes have chemistry (sexual chemistry is chemistry) and they're always standing next to each other.

People start to wonder if there's more.

That's kind of where we see the gossip magazine come in. It has two goals, if you can read that very difficult to read text. Goal 1: hint that their sexual relationship is romantic, actually (how embarrassing!). Goal 2: embarrass Ozzie by saying Fizz is trying to use him for money or power (who would let an imp manipulate them like that??). And Fizz knows the ultimate point is to shame Ozzie (because who doesn't like feeling superior to someone of higher rank by publicly mocking them) and that's why he hides it.

But just because it's hidden from Ozzie doesn't mean other people aren't seeing it and starting to think...

That's right. Hello Shippers. Hell is full of people into RPF.

Which means that when we get Ozzie's confession it just sparks all the "I told you so" the silent (and non silent) shippers have been thriving on for a near decade in hell. Their ship became canon! Nothing matters the shippers have won!! Hooray!

But here's the problem. The shippers might have expected this, but I'm pretty sure this is only common to Fizz or Ozzie fans. The show, after all, is full of people coming to see Fizz perform, or people coming to see him get dethroned.

I assume that, in general, hell doesn't give two shits about Fizz or other Sins enough to even consider if they're dating. But that changes if a Sin is into an imp.

And that's because it's weird. The highest class with the second-lowest class? That's unheard of. Ozzie doesn't even oversee imps why would he even care (compared to Bee who DOES oversee hell hounds). I think its absolutely absurd.

AND to Mammon's delight, its a hell of a fucking weakness. It's not just the fucktoy who could hurt or be taken advantage of (to an extent because ultimately he would be replaceable)--its a Sin's actual lover. That's heavier. That's more exploitable. That's a problem.

And it's probably the reason they tried to keep it hidden (however bad they were at it) for as long as they did.

Because now Fizz is gonna have even more of a target on him than ever before.

[banannabethchase]

EddieRicky or EddieSeth - whichever one you don't choose has a crush on Eddie and winds up getting consoled by (spin the wheel) after seeing him canoodling with his sweetheart

Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall

~

I DIDN'T MEAN TO DO THIS SHIP IT'S NOT MY FAULT

~

Seth sits on the weight bench. He’s not trying to pout. It’s just that it’s his default response when he’s disappointed, and he really is, and now he can see in the mirror what everyone means.

He stares at himself, trying to fix his expression in the mirror. His eyes keep giving off weird sad puppy eyes, no matter how hard he tries to keep his expression neutral.

“Pardon me,” says a voice, “but may I ask what the fuck you’re doing?”

Seth glances up to see – oh. Well, if he’s not mistaken, it’s a shirtless cowboy, frowning over his shoulder. “Hello,” he says. He glances in the mirror. The pouting puppy dog eyes are gone. He’s not sure what to call what’s replaced it.

“Okay, I wasn’t wrong,” Hangman says, frowning harder. It’s strange how handsome it looks. It’s even stranger how Seth can’t quite read what that frown says. He glances at himself again. Perplexed, now. Huh. “You really are staring at yourself in the mirror.”

Seth’s attention whips back to Hangman. “Excuse me!”

“Am I wrong?” He folds his – arms, wow. Seth shakes his head. Hangman’s biceps bulge and his pecs are definitely on display. He doesn’t need a mirror to know what’s in his eyes right now. “What’s up with you? Why are you ogling yourself like all those tumblr blogs?”

Seth shrugs. “Trying to figure out what my face is saying. I apparently have a very obvious pout.”

“Of course you do,” Hangman says, and it’s not the response Seth had been expecting. “That’s, like, the whole thing. Seriously, do you not know about the tumblr blogs?”

“Tell me more about them,” Seth says. He adjusts so his shirt rides up a little. Two can play at the looking hot game.

Hangman rolls his eyes. “Like you need somebody else to stroke your ego.”

“I do, actually,” and Seth feels the pout return.

Hangman blinks. “What?”

“I got rejected.” Seth falls back onto the bench. “Did you know Eddie was dating Ricky Starks?”

“Yes,” Hangman says. “Everyone does. He said that ‘don’t know whether to hit him or take him out on a date’ thing a few years ago and they’ve been together ever since.”

“Should’ve watched the product back then,” Seth mutters.

“Well, you have nothing to worry about,” Hangman says. “I mean, unless you don’t get your ass off of that weight bench. You’re hot. You’ll find somebody.”

“What happens if I don’t get off the weight bench?”

Hangman studies him. “Yeah, I could handle it.”

“Handle what –” Anything else Seth had intended to say is completely lost by the way Hangman picks him up from around the middle, lifts him into the air, and slams him down into the mats on the floor. “Oh. That.”

“Easy,” Hangman says, and that smile is nice. So are his eyes. Actually, his whole face situation is good, and getting thrown around has always gotten him feeling some sort of way. He doesn’t sit in it for too long, because Hangman, too easily, jumps to his feet and there’s something else sexy to worry about. “Now the weight bench is open.”

“The – well, there’s other options now, aren’t there?”

Hangman raises an eyebrow. “Options?”

“Yeah.” Seth raises himself on his elbows, bending a knee so his gym shorts ride up. “What do you think about cardio?”

Seth can definitely read this expression. Bewildered interest. It’s a look directed at him frequently by many.

“I could do some cardio.” The interest shifts to intrigue, and something a little darker Seth hadn’t expected to see in this cowboy’s eyes. Hangman drops to the floor and pushes Seth’s thighs apart, eyes settling on the way Seth is already starting to tent his gym shorts. “Yeah,” Hangman says. There’s a bit of gravel to his voice. “Cardio.” He puts a hand on Seth’s hip and flips him onto his hands and knees. Seth catches the look on his face – eyes wide and dark, mouth open, cheeks flushed. “Since I know you like to look at yourself.”

[waytoomanyhobbies]

Hi! What’s a song that makes you think of your favorite character or ship from Bob’s Burgers?

@babsvibes

Lol. Well, I already told you the other day how Too Sweet by Hozier makes me think of Logan being Louise's neat whiskey in your:

But I wanna shake things up with two songs that aren't fic dependent but instead make me think of Louigan after reuniting in their 30s and getting together–one would be what they say is their song and the other is their song in private.

Usually, with rivals to lovers ships folks go straight to all the "I hate you, but I love you" tunes. Instead, I want to lean into the way that Logan and Louise are foils who, despite their differences, are actually quite alike.

So the first song is another Hozier tune... From Eden. That's the one they would tell people was their song. Both characters have a history of identifying with criminals, outlaws, etc. So the serpent in the garden is a natural.

The following section, in particular, hits the mark for me:

Babe There's something lonesome about you Something so wholesome about you Get closer to me No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

In the context of Louigan, the verse would be them each recognizing the other's hidden softer side. The pre-chorus would be a longing to cut through their facades of indifference and them expressing their insecurities about if the other really wasn't interested. Finally, the chorus in this context is the recognition of seeing themselves in one another (hence, how they recognized one another's softer sides) as well as the type of baggage they could accrue in the decades before they reunited. They're just both lying in wait to tempt the other. There wouldn't be any "other man" (like in the verse about Adam ) when they reunite, but any time someone asks how they got together, they make up a different outrageous story. Like an anthology episode.

That brings us to Louise and Logan's secret song, the one they would cuddle and canoodle to–but vehemently deny in public. Mirrors by Justin Timberlake.

I don't wanna lose you now I'm lookin' right at the other half of me The vacancy that sat in my heart Is a space that now you hold Show me how to fight for now And I'll tell you, baby, it was easy Comin' back here to you once I figured it out You were right here all along It's like you're my mirror My mirror staring back at me I couldn't get any bigger With anyone else beside me And now it's clear as this promise That we're making Two reflections into one Cause it's like you're my mirror My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me

I mean we have this girl:

A girl who knows every lyric that Boo Boo and Boys 4 Now ever sang.

And she's paired with this boy:

A boy who gets super emotional over Freaky Friday and its messages about love and acceptance.

Together, they would secretly enjoy the most poppy, peppy songs about true love and finding your other half–the person who gets that part of you that others don't understand or find too extreme for comfort. That's a kind of understanding and acceptance Louise seems to yearn for from Spiderhouse Rules, and it matches Logan's vibe from Mother Daughter Laser Razor beautifully.

I can picture the two of them cuddling to the song:

Louise: "I swear, if you ever tell anyone this is really our song, I will gut punch you!"

Logan (laughing): "Hey! I have a reputation to protect too, you know?"

Louise (snorts:) "If you say so."

Logan: "Besides, I know you're too chicken to dance to this at the wedding reception..."

Louise (warning): "Logan."

Logan: "And since when is big spoon supposed to be threatening little spoon? You're supposed to be making me feel safe and cherished."

Louise (hugging him tighter): "Fine. If the leftover pizza starts threatening you, I've got my bow and arrows in the closet."

Logan: "Thank you."

[joyswonderland1108]

Am i ranting again?

I probably am but whatevuh! 

So by now y’all know i’m on tiktok a lot of time and naturally i get a lot of videos about our boys. Thing is, i come across some “ship” videos that include either Jimin or JK with another member and the comments be saying “It’s always these two” and i’m like No bitch, it’s not AlWaYs ThEsE tWo, y’all are just so fucking blind to the “other two” that’s what it is. 

Cause i’ll be damned if being flirtatious is for some reason considered gay if it’s Jimin or JK with any other member but NOT when they’re flirting with each other.. I’m sorry Ma’am but imma need some explanation over here cause ?!!?!

And you know what’s silly? All these damn excuses that for some reason only pop up when it comes to Jikook. Y’all were adamant about the hickey or as y’all like to convince yourselves being just a “bite” (well technically speaking a hickey is called a love bite but they ain’t ready for that one) or a cover up for JK’s “girlfriend” but surprise surprise when Jimin wasn’t even brought up in the equation with Joon, hickeys suddenly became a Jimin thing.

So we over here always twisting the boys words to fit your unresolved hatred towards any possible deeper bond between Jimin and JK but my question is why is it THAT bad for them to be a thing? Cause i don’t see anyone combusting when they talk about these two being with any other member i mean.. Is the world ending if Jikook are a thing or..? What am i missing? What are we trying to dismiss their bond for? 

Thing is, they’ve always been sus 

They’ve always been a lil.. 

Fruity..

But the narrative is that, apparently, all the things they’ve been up to is such a normal thing to do with friends, besties, um.. siblings.. parents.. Okay yeah Margaret this is disturbing 

I can pretend and go along with that lame ass excuse of that being “normal” between friends but when we’re tip toeing a bit too close to sweet home Alabama i can’t follow anymore. Cause you know you won’t catch me on a regular Sunday just making out with my brother’s neck you know.. I also know for a fact that if anyone other than my so was licking my ear they’re getting my elbow right on the nose. 

“Why do you always bring up things that happened in the past? 🙄” Well i mean we always tend to talk more about the most shocking things don’t we? But truth is that there’s a whole list out there for things Jikook do every year that make me side-eye. We ain’t even recovered yet from the domesticity that emanated from a comment exchange, the whole context of it, let alone stuff that happened in front of our salads. 

You know about muscle memory right? So when your homie is teasing you, cupping your face, your initial reflex ain’t puckering your lips fam..

Bruh i’m not even going to talk about how these two be having the gayest photoshoots 

You also won’t catch me thirst trapping my bro or just canoodling in a dark corner in a party where people are supposed to be having fun with friends ya know. Now of course i ain’t crazy to be thinking that every interaction out there means something deep, there’s a whole thought process, a whole context, a whole understanding to do, a whole knowledge of the person, etc.. 

Something you have to ask yourself “Did A ever do to anyone else what they’ve just done to B?” If the answer is yes of course you can look further into it since as i said there’s also context in there and depending on that (of course we’re talking here about stuff that seem sus anything else is just that no need to dig further into it) but if the answer is no you’ve got your answer right there. 

(Credits to Dalto on Twitter)

Sure enough this is playful this is cute but this is that, as a non-jikooker you are free to see this as friends being friends you know i won’t judge you, i personally see it and it warms my heart but i won’t be jumping on my bed screaming yet.

Initially here JK was supposed to be in the middle but we all know how many times that boy tried to fool Joon into thinking that he forgot he was supposed to be in the middle lol I guess that day Joon just gave up on trying because naturally our Jikook tend to gravitate towards each other, just another Tuesday really.. Again i can see people dismissing this and downplaying it but we all know damn well that once something start becoming a bit of a habit.. You start wondering why (y’all already know why lol)

I know that this post might make absolutely no sense, literally i was just sitting around doing nothing and decided to write, i can’t even focus to make shit organized but hey.. bear with me. My point is, why are people too set on making everything BTS do gay until Jimin and JK do it together? I can understand that coming from the cult for very obvious reason despite it not making any sense but whatever, but why are other people completely loosing their shit over it too? 

[flippyspoon]

What do you think the perfect Spirk date is? I know everyone says chess and that’s cute but if they can go anywhere or do anything what do you think it would be?

OOO OOKAY so it depends where they are of course-

If they're docked in San Fran they have all kinds of options but my mind immediately goes to them visiting a big fancy arboretum (or some expanded version of the San Francisco Botanical Garden if that still exists).

Kirk just makin' all the heart eyes asking Spock random questions about flowers and how some crazy fern from Andoria is cared for on Earth.

Then Jim pulls Spock into an alcove and kisses him and Spock is like "In public, Jim?" But then Jim does that thing he does to his ear and he's done for.

Then dinner some place they agree on- let's say Thai (as I'm in Thai Town). Walk along the beach.

KIRK AND SPOCK DOING A LITTLE OZH'ESTA WHILE STANDING UNDER THE MOONLIGHT ON THE BEACH IN SAN FRANCISCO OOO.

If they're on the ship I like to think there are more cultural things to do then we got to see on TOS- kinda like we saw on TNG all the time. Like maybe there's a broadcast via subspace of some lecture by a historian with a theory on bla bla influence of yadda yadda on Surak or ya know The Influence of Vulcan Literature on Contemporary Modes of Terran Culture something something and they show it in their assembly room so Kirk and Spock go to that and then discuss it over dinner in the officer's lounge and canoodle on the observation deck and there's a running debate on whatever the lecture was the whole time and Spock being kind of fired about it (for him) is getting Kirk all worked up and then necking on the observation deck before Kirk whispers that he'd like to take this back to their quarters where he may or may not shove Spock against a wall before attacking him with his mouth.

[xylionet]

The perils of a shiny fuck buddy

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader (gentle con crit welcome on this matter)

Inspired by: after midnight by @tremendum

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 490

Warnings: inappropriate use of armor heavily implied but not depicted

As a New Republic diplomat with a strong stomach and a great sabacc face, sometimes you draw the short straw. Or rather, some very enthusiastic ex-Rebel general senator voluntells you that you will be taking the short straw. And thus, you are on another dodgy mission to a dodgy shithole planet on the border of Hutt Space.

This being that sort of mission, a New Republic guard squad would rather stand out. And probably all get shot immediately. So, a friend of a friend called in a favour and got you the shiniest, most taciturn Mandalorian possible as a bodyguard.

The man doesn’t bother giving a name, or talking most of the trip, so you make it your mission to crack his shell. Literally or figuratively, you aren’t fussy. Anything to pass some time in hyperspace.

It takes the whole trip there and every day but one of the mission before you finally get into his undersuit. The man may communicate 90% in sighs, head tilts and significant arm-folding, but he does know how to show a sentient a good time.

The memory of hot skin on cool, smooth armor is enough to make you flush, right in the middle of buttering up some old coot at this sleezy gala. Perhaps you could encourage a repeat performance on the way home. Perhaps several. Perhaps you could make some detours.

However, that will be entirely contingent on whether you can resolve an immediate and more pressing… management issue. Galas always have stupid little alcoves for canoodling or advancing the plot and you put on your best manager face as you haul your recalcitrant Mandalorian into the nearest one.

“Have you not noticed everyone in the room staring at you?” You say, praying to every god who doesn't consider all of this a sin that you look and sound more like a manager than you feel.

“ … The Mandalorian reputation precedes me.” he says, folding his arms smugly.

You snort. This man will single-handedly change the reputation of Mandalorians in this entire sector. Directly from feared warrior to slutty himbo with an armor fetish.

“Did you, by any chance, clean your armor between last night and now?”

You can almost see the question marks appear on his visor.

You lean in and whisper, “You have half a pussy print on your thigh and a boob print on your chest. And every human in that room is trying to figure out whose they are.”

Well, that got his smug little arms unfolded.

"You won’t get paid if I die of embarrassment instead of assassins." you say over your shoulder, leaving him to decide what to do about it.

Perhaps you'll manage to look nice and innocent as you slip back into the event, despite being 100% the guilty party… Well, as long as you can keep a straight face until you're back on the ship. You can always give him more later.

[lea-andres]

This almost wound up in an unwitting person's asks, but I decided last second this probably stands better as its own post.

This isn't set off by anyone in particular, not even the person I almost yeeted this rant at unprompted. So I'm not mad at any one individual person, just at the fandom as a whole tbh.

It's no secret I love me a good villain redemption arc. A villain having some sort of moment that makes them want to switch sides and stop being so horrible, and all of the emotional hardships that follow as they struggle both to obtain the forgiveness and trust of the heroes they used to fight so bitterly with but also to find it in themselves to forgive themselves? And those moments of tension where something goes wrong and they slip up and some people point at them and go "See? They haven't changed, they can never change." And the anger, hurt, and feelings of betrayal that follow?

Ooh, that's the good shit. I'm a sucker for it. I've obviously got my thoughts on how it'd go for the Hooligans if we really REALLY wanted to focus on the emotional hardships of a full blown redemption arc (TL;DR: Bark has the easiest time with the transition from bad to good, Bean has "Harley's Holiday" style troubles where he's just a little too weird for the average person to stomach despite his best efforts to be good and nice, and Fang has the hardest time and hits the level I like to call "barely housetrained" where he's still a nasty piece of shit and barely anyone trusts him but at least he's not actively evil anymore? Yay?), but we're not getting into that again today.

No what we're getting into today is how SOME OF YOU like to just skip all the meat and potatoes and jump STRAIGHT TO THE END AND ONLY GO "LOOK AT HOW SOFT AND UWU THIS VILLAIN IS NOW!"

"How did we get here?" I ask eagerly, craving that sweet, sweet content.

"IDK, LOL" comes the response, followed by more soft fluff.

It makes me want to chew my hands off.

Even if you don't really want to focus on that part, even if you're not confident you could tell that story as well as someone else could, you should at least HAVE AN IDEA! You can begin with the end in mind, that's fine, but we need something connecting point A to point B! Even if it's just an awkward rambley SparkNotes summary! I'm crazy enough that It's better than nothing!

I'll spare you guys the same ship rant AGAIN, but some of the ships floating around here have the same problem. Yeah yeah, soft domestic bliss, you can set up Sonic characters on a dartboard, get two at random, and draw them sweetly canoodling. BUT HOW DID WE GET HERE???

Some of you skip over the real good part to get to the point you think is the good part and it drives me fucking bonkers. It's about the journey, not the destination, or something. IDK.

Alright, I'm done for now probably, back to our regularly scheduled bullshit. 😎✌️

[softquietsteadylove]

Hi!

I’m curious my dear and I have a request!

Would you write something where Jack asks Gil to see him using his powers? I can imagine that Gil never used them actively since he is strong enough to do things without them. So Jack is curious and wants to see them! He wants to see why he is the strongest Eternal!

Thank you for all of your story’s!❤️

"You want me to what?"

"Please, Uncle Gil?" Jack pleaded, turning his big brown eyes on him. It was how he had already swayed his aunt in his favour.

As if it was hard; she was always in his favour.

"I know you're super strong, but I've never actually seen you use your super powers!" Jack continued in his excitement. "I've seen Aunt Thena's."

"Not in action, you haven't, and that's a good thing," Gil pointed out in an attempt to curb the boy's excitement. It wasn't working, though, with Jack practically bouncing at the opportunity to ask him about it. "What brought this on?"

"A film," Thena finally spoke up from the chair behind Jack. She had been lazing about all morning, like a cat in the morning sun. "He wants to know if you could lift the car."

Gil chuckled, setting down his plate and taking off his apron. "Buddy, I'm pretty sure any of us could do that."

"No way!"

"Yup," Gil nodded, bringing the plate over to his curled up wife. He even wafted the plate around her a little before she picked her head up. "I'm pretty sure even Sprite could pick up a basic sedan if she really tried."

"If she lifted with her knees," Thena both added and agreed, unfurling just to follow the temptation of Gil's lovingly made breakfast.

"Okay, but could you throw the car?"

"Why would I want to throw the car?" Gil asked, although he had a feeling the answer would be-

"'Cause it'd be cool!"

"You can't go around throwing cars because it's cool, Jack," Gil shook his head with an exasperated smile. He held out a piece of toast, letting Thena take a delicate little nibble of the corner of it. "That's not what insurance is for."

"But Uncle Gil-" Jack tried again, only to be shut out by his disgustingly affectionate uncle and aunt canoodling right in front of him. He huffed as Uncle Gil tickled the tip of Aunt Thena's nose with his own. Jack turned to his more likely ally, "Aunt Thena?"

"Yes, Jack?" she humoured him, even as she was making eyes at the man in front of her.

"What's the heaviest thing you've ever seen Uncle Gil pick up?"

"It's hard to say." It wasn't--it was probably the carcass of the largest Deviant they had ever fought in their lifetimes. Once tied up, Gil was able to pick the thing up over his shoulder, as if carrying the mast of a ship. "Maybe the stone blocks for the pyramids."

"You guys built the pyramids?!

"Helped," Thena corrected singularly, but Jack never minded how few words she chose. She smiled at him, "Makkari was positively adored there. They called her a Goddess."

"You're a Goddess yourself," Gil pointed out needlessly, just for the excuse to compliment her and brush his hand over her cheek.

"Please just show me a little bit of your powers?" Jack repeated, now to the confusion of both Eternals. He dropped his scrunched up fists in a change of tactics. "I've seen Dad's powers but he never explains them. Or he explains too much."

His father's siblings seemed to sympathise with him over that.

"He told me about your powers," Jack continued. "I thought you were using your powers this whole time, but you weren't!"

Gil chuckled, sharing a look with Thena. "You got me there."

"So, all the times you grabbed stuff out of the oven, or picked up Aunt Thena, or even the time you picked up the couch-?!"

"Sorry Bud, those just aren't difficult for me," Gil shrugged, ruffling Jack's hair to ease the blow. "Aunt Thena doesn't weigh anything-"

She gave his side a poke, but he braved on.

"And I pick up the couch at home all the time to clean it," Gil shrugged, although it only made Jack's pout worsen. "Okay, okay, what do you wanna see me lift?--away from anyone who could see it!"

Jack put a hand to his chin. He had asked and asked and asked and now he had to think of what he actually wanted out of all this. "Well, in the movie, he can lift a whole train car by himself."

"We're not going to some train yard and getting the cops called on us for trespassing," Gil shot down the idea without a second thought.

"But-"

"What if Uncle Gil lifts the car for you, hm?" Thena attempted to compromise between Jack's bold ideas and what they could realistically get away with doing without being noticed.

"I guess that's pretty cool," Jack relented, although he clearly had been hoping for something more dramatic.

"Come on, we can do it in the garage," Gil put his hand on Jack's back as they moved towards the garage, where they could exercise even a fraction of their strength behind closed doors.

"Aunt Thena, could you lift the car if you wanted to?"

"Of course."

"But," Jack paused, "you don't want to?"

"No."

"Okay."

Gil shook his head, catching his wife's eye. "He asks and asks me, but for you, if you're not in the mood, then that's it?"

"Yes," she smiled right back at him, reaching idly to pat Jack on the head. "Because he's a nice boy."

"Okay, okay," Gil sighed as he stepped into the garage. He lowered himself to the ground, grunting as he had to lift it a little just to shimmy under it. "You ready?"

"Ready!" Jack beamed.

Gil took in a breath, just barely exhaling as he lifted the family's hatchback from the undercarriage of it. He could technically grip the bumper and lift it that way, but it would be ill-balanced, and he was likely to bend the bumper in his grip doing it that way. "You see, Jack?"

"That's so cool!" the young man said in awe as Gil didn't even blink as he lowered the car down again. "Is that your workout routine?"

"We don't really have to 'work out', as you put it," Thena advised next to him with an indulgent smile. "Although he does regularly pick up the water tower at home and shake it to test when it needs refilling."

"Is there anything Uncle Gil can't lift?"

"I've never quite seen him try to lift something and fail," Thena mused as Gil scooched out from under the car and dusted himself off. "But that's part of knowing your limits, Jack. There are things of which even Eternals are not capable."

"Like what?" he asked immediately, really trying to imagine his superpowered family struggling to accomplish anything.

"Like saying no to you," Gil laughed as he wiped his dusty hands off on Jack's shirt, tickling him in the process. "Have you seen her do it yet?"

"That is an unfair challenge, and you know it," Thena asserted in her own defense. She turned her head, "the phone."

"I'll get it!" Jack rushed inside and to the kitchen to pick up the house's landline. "Dad?"

"Does some wanna tell me why I got an alert that the garage was opened, only to see my idiot brother benchpressing the car?"

"Uh," Jack blinked before holding out the phone to his aunt, "it's for you."

"Phastos," she lifted the phone to her ear.

"Don't Phastos me, T! What are you-"

Thena hung up.

Gil gave her a look as she put the phone back on the receiver. It rang not a second later but she hung it up again. "He's going to be furious when he gets home."

Thena picked up and hung up the phone a third time without even blinking an eye. She looked at her nephew with a smile, "what would you like to do now, Jack?"

"Can you jump, like, super far?"

"Yes."

"Can you jump over the house?"

"I'm sure I could."