#this is how im going to promote fics from now on. this is my life. anyways yeah im also goign to post here now

[himawanai]

her: you better not be 4K First Person Introspective fic about Ishmael's brain demons towards Faust and everything that's happened to her

me: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48570391

[skitskatdacat63]

I meant to write more for a pt 2 lore post earlier but didn't end up doing so, so pls take these AU sketches(Mark & Jense and then some assorted sketchies)

[allaboutnayeli]

fresh out of the salon [k.martin x reader]

prompt: kate gets her hair done after the season ends and you're in love with it

author notes: let me firstly disclaim that i don't know shit about hair outside of black ppl hair 💔 and i hardly know that. secondly, i don't know if kate is a natural blonde with dark roots or a brunette who dyes her hair blonde but im pretty sure she's a natural blonde so.. if she isn't just ignore all the times i call her that. thirdly im still getting kate's personality 🙇🏽‍♀️ so this might not be super accurate to her but whatever. anyways enough yapping, enjoy it.

word of the fic: hair

it was only a few days after iowa's defeat against south carolina. kate was quick to call you when she reached her hotel room; feeling drained from the intense atmosphere during the game and also heartbroken she left her basketball college career off with a loss. you unfortunately couldn't make it due to having to focus on softball season. if iowa had played a home game for the final, you could had comforted your girlfriend afterwards but sadly she was still in ohio; having to do a few promotional shoots for a brand.

having to stay away from you longer than nesscary annoyed the blonde, but money is money so she sucked it up. you two relied on facetime and constant talking to stay connected. your teammates teased you all the time about how you been glued to your phone everytime there was a break at practice, but could they blame you? it's kate we're talking about here.

it's around ten pm when the blonde finally facetimes you. her face being close to the camera once the call connected.

"why am i seeing more of your nose than you, kate?" you giggle. getting comfortable on your bed before putting your attention fully on her. kate makes an obvious pout that you can see very closely with her face almost squished against her phone.

"i want a kiss," the iowa basketball player pulls her face away, not too far, to give you a full look of her lips. you roll your eyes, but internally the cuteness levels going on right now from her were huge. you indulge her before counting down so she was ready to kiss the phone screen the moment you were.

she lays back onto the hotel bed pillows afterwards. a satisfied look on her face; kate was truly the only one who can make you do something as embarrassing as kissing a phone screen. you take in her full appearance now. the blonde had obviously slip on some pajamas after coming to her hotel room from the shoot. a matching hello kitty matching pajama set that you recognized as yours is on her body.

"who said you could take my clothes?" you make a fake angry expression that just makes kate shake her head in amusement. "i did and i'm your girlfriend, so deal with it," kate says.

you roll your eyes before noticing a slight difference with kate. her hair looks slightly different than how it was when she left iowa. the darkish blonde of the player now has nicely done highlights on them. when did kate get her hair done? and why didn't she tell you?

the silence from your side of the line makes kate pout, "talk to me, baby. i missed your voice all day."

a flutter goes through your chest at her words; kate always knew what to say to have you swooning. "you got your hair done!" you say. she giggles, looking away from the screen in shyness. the player wasn't used to someone noticing things about her appearance. it was a new feeling of appreciation that makes kate crave to be near you even more.

"yeah. since i was doing those photoshoots, i thought it would be best to give my hair some new life," kate leaves out the part about how the loss to south carolina made her cry and immediately want to go to the salon to feel new again the moment she left the stadium (in the end only getting her hair done earlier today), but that's a topic for later. two things could be true at once though.

"but no selfies?" it was now your turn to pout. feeling slightly sad that your girlfriend didn't send a selfie your way after the first step she took out of the salon. kate wants to kiss away your pout so badly, but can't; curse nil deals.

"i was going to, baby. don't pout at me, it just makes me miss you even more. i had a photoshoot right after the salon and couldn't really text," kate explains. the pout on your lips disappears with you back to missing her.

"it looks so good on you, babes. makes me wanna kiss you"

"then gimme a kiss. the screen doesn't matter to me," kate puckers her lips up. leaning back close to the screen as you do the same.

you two stay up until twelve. during the rest of the call you keep taking facetime photos of kate because for one, she was just so adorable and for two, her new hair was doing things for you. the highlights really brought out her eyes. you were definitely going to kiss her all over her face when she landed back in iowa.

you tell kate to go off to sleep when the clock strikes one, so she can be well rested for her flight back home tomorrow. she pouts until you agree to fall asleep on the phone; who would say no to that face?

© thinkingaboutjaedyn

[crownofgildedlilies]

feelin' like an absolute fool about it -> cool about it [1]

in which: a son of jupiter can't remember the life he lost to time and circumstance. or the daughter of mercury he lost, too.

pairing: jason grace x daughter of mercury!roman!reader

warnings: angst, angst, and angst. oh and cursing.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this is a four part fic and im so obsessed with this idea. Jason Grace the man that you are. oh and this follows a nonlinear plot so be warned. lmk if you want to be added to a taglist or wtv!

[one] two three four

"If I have to sit through one more meeting with you making kiss me eyes at the praetor, I'm going to run myself through with my own lance."

"Good morning to you, too, Dakota." You grunted, half amused, half still pissy from the horror show that had been your previous night. "I slept like shit, thanks for asking."

"You're welcome," He didn't miss a beat, pouring more kool-aid than was probably healthy into his cup to drink with breakfast. "Now, man up."

"Real inspiring."

Dakota leveled you with a flat look, and you fought the urge to roll your own eyes. But you knew he would twist the action into your admitting defeat in your impromptu staring contest.

And you were nothing if not a sore loser.

"Admit you want to date the praetor." Dakota demanded, trying to push the conversation along.

On instinct, your gaze darted throughout the dining pavilion, looking for a certain head of blond hair that had yet to make an appearance that morning. And it was then that you knew Dakota meant business, because he didn’t call you out for looking away first.

"Reyna's pretty. Not my type, though." You deflected, stabbing a fork into your breakfast with what was probably more force than necessary. Dakota's eyes widened at the action, briefly, before narrowing at you in suspicion.

"Moving past that comment," He waved his hand in front of him, as if to physically move the conversation along. "Does your current attitude have anything to do with last night's freak thunderstorm?"

Maybe, you would have said, if your mouth didn't suddenly taste so bitter. Still, you winced, and you knew that was enough of an answer for him.

"Oh, come on!" Dakota groaned, pausing only to sip greedily on his kool-aid. You looked on in near amusement, cheek propped up on your fist, waiting for his dramatics to pass. "I finally get my speech all prepared to get you to confess your unending love to Praetor Grace, and you two get in an argument the night before?"

"Pity," You replied dryly, hoping the way you exaggeratedly poked out your bottom lip and knitted your brows together masked the ache in your chest.

"Centurion," Dakota whined, and you wondered how you had gotten so lucky to be promoted to lead the Fifth Cohort alongside him. "What happened?"

Your eyes flashed, shooting him a glare that made him snap his mouth shut.

"Oh-kay." He whistled, sipping his kool-aid some more. Seriously, you needed to figure out how to trick the poor guy into drinking water. "My point still stands. One argument does not change the fact that you guys are in love with each other."

You scoffed, shoveling pancakes in your mouth to avoid answering, head ducked.

Dakota slammed his open palms down on the top of the table so forcefully, almost every head in the pavilion snapped towards him.

"So you admit it!" He accused, grinning wickedly and showing off the red-stained mustache his drink of choice left. You grimaced, swallowing your breakfast to avoid choking. "You do love him!"

"Keep your voice down or I will shove Octavian's entire teddy bear collection down your—"

"Okay!" Dakota interrupted, grinning proudly, as if he hadn't just been threatened. "No need for violence. I was right."

"So is a broken clock twice a day. You're not special." You rolled your eyes, settling stiffly back into your seat. Risking another glance around the mess hall, you still found no sight of the world's most irritating, kind-hearted, moron of a praetor.

Also known as Jason Grace, your best friend.

And as Dakota had just so eloquently uncovered, the guy you've been in love with for years without ever uttering a word about it to him.

"Put me out of my misery, please, and just go talk to the guy, will you?" He begged, like he truly was the one suffering. You glared at him again, but you knew it wasn't fair.

Dakota hadn't been there last night, when you had tried telling Jason how you felt. But the boy was as emotionally oblivious as he was pretty, which was saying a lot.

"Wait," Dakota wiped at his mouth, but the kool-aid stains remained behind. "Did you already—?"

"Centurions," Harper from the Second Cohort appeared at your side, slightly out of breath and eyes wide. You had only ever really spoken to her during Senate meetings, but you were friendly enough.

So you were more than a little confused when she looked at you and took a step back, like she was afraid.

"Everything alright, Harper?" You asked, turning slightly in your seat, mind already running through a million different scenarios of horrible things that could have happened and dragged such a reaction out of Harper.

You had seen the girl take on four sons of Mars before. She wasn't exactly afraid of much.

"He's gone," The words tumbled past her lips before she winced, taking a second step away from you. Face twisted in confusion, you tried to make sense of the vague explanation. "Jason, I mean. He's just—"

Gone.

You were out of your seat before she could finish talking, breakfast long forgotten. The few bites you had managed to swallow felt like lead in the pit of your stomach, weighing you down and making you feel like you were barely moving, even as you raced so fast through camp that even the Lares barely had time to get out of your way.

There was no way Harper was right. Jason couldn't just be—be gone. He was everything a Roman aspired to be; strong, resilient, dedicated.

And maybe you had gotten into an argument, but Broken Clock Dakota was right for the second time that day. One argument didn't mean you stopped loving him.

You have never been so thankful that your father was the god of travelers as your feet pounded on the dirt roads. Sprinting towards the bunk houses, you utilized every ounce of Mercury-blessed speed. Jason had to be there. Or maybe he had snuck off to New Rome to buy you apology flowers, like he had the one time he missed your birthday—you had forgive him easily, as he had been off on a quest he nearly died during.

Heart in your throat, you skidded to a halt outside the small, private bedrooms given to the praetors. You had always teased Jason that his looked like a prison cell, considering his only decorations were books on war strategies used throughout centuries.

But then he had taped up that one gods-awful photo of you and him, both squinting against the sun shining in your faces, and it hadn't seemed so desolate.

"Jason!" You shouted with relief, voice choked up, because the door to his room was open. He never kept his door open, unless you were inside, because he claimed it stopped the other campers from making assumptions about what the two of you were getting up to in his bedroom, alone.

And then you would ask him to explain what he meant by that, trying to hide your grin for as long as you could while he stammered over his words with a blush.

"Jase, they're saying—" You pushed open the door to his room further, voice almost shuddering, and stopped cold when you saw the room's only occupant.

Because it wasn't your blond haired love leaning over the small desk in the corner of the room.

"He didn't show up to our praetor meeting this morning." Reyna's voice was flat, giving you only the facts. You were glad, because if she had spoken with pity, you were certain you would have thrown up.

Jason would be nice about it, but you didn't want to vomit on his carpet.

"That's not like him," You stated dumbly, fingertips vibrating with anxious nerves. Reyna shook her head, and it was then that you realized she had been sifting through the stacks of papers on his desk.

It felt like an intrusion of his privacy, even if it was a necessary precaution. There might have been clues to his whereabouts in those papers. Instead, you were certain they were only his to-do lists, scribbled in his neat handwriting you so adored.

And when she spoke next, you wish you could have plugged your ears and ignored her.

"Centurion, Jason Grace is missing."

Six months, one week, four days, nine hours.

And thirty-six minutes.

Jason had been gone for six months, one week, four days, nine hours, and thirty-six minutes.

In total, you had slept probably a total of nineteen consecutive hours. Octavian had tried calling for your removal from role of Centurion five times. Reyna had offered you the open position of Praetor twice, behind closed doors.

"It's not available," You had snapped. Fear and exhaustion had turned you bitter. "Jason's coming back."

Six months, one week, four days, nine hours, and thirty-seven minutes.

"You know," Dakota's voice was slightly slurred, already gone on the kool-aid on such a bright summer afternoon. He had found you on the steps of the forum, searching through dozens of letters from retired legionnaires all claiming to not have heard any word about Jason but would keep scouting, and suggested you join him for a walk. "I bet he's out there, fighting for his life to get back here to you."

You shot a glare at Dakota, but kept your mouth shut. Lately, he was the only one of your old friends that could stomach being around you. No one else wanted to subject themselves to your attitude. You were glad to have a friend, even if you didn't act like it.

But you wished Dakota wouldn't talk about Jason fighting for his life.

"Brenda said I could take another eagle out searching today," Your voice had a rasp to it. Rarely used, but never rested. For the first three weeks following Jason's disappearance, you spent each night crying in your bunk, murmuring desperate pleas that your golden boy be returned to you.

And maybe he had never truly been your Jason, but it had felt pretty close.

Finally, Reyna had slipped a key into your palm, disguised as a handshake. The silver key, the one that unlocked Jason's empty praetor room, currently sat on a chain around your neck.

You slept there, now.

No one mentioned your nightly disappearance. You figured everyone was just thankful they didn't have to hear your crying anymore.

"Are you sure you should be flying?" Dakota looked you over with unease, the Little Tiber coming into view on the horizon. You were certain you looked a mess, but what did it matter? You only cared about what Jason thought of you, and Jason never cared about what you wore.

Still, the dark bags of exhaustion under your eyes probably were cause for concern.

"Says you," You countered dismissively, waving a hand towards the flask of kool-aid attached to his belt.

"That's not what I mean," He huffed, defensive. "When's the last time you slept—"

The shouting from the Little Tiber interrupted your conversation. You squinted in the direction of the sound, both surprised and startled to find two massive fists of water raised in the air, a gorgon in each.

At the bank was Hazel Levesque, submerged up to his knees was Frank Zhang, and... controlling the water-fists was a boy you had never seen before.

Without warning Dakota, you took off in a sprint towards the edge of the Little Tiber. You reached the bank just as Frank shot two incredibly well placed arrows at each of the gorgons, turning them to dust and swallowing them downstream.

"Centurion!" Hazel gasped, spotting you approach. Dakota was slowly closing in, muttering curses about children of Mercury and their swiftness. "We found him by the front gates. He was carrying, well, a goddess, so we figured we should let him in."

By the time Hazel finished rambling, both the new boy and Frank had made it ashore. Frank, with his probatio tablet swinging around his neck avoided meeting your eye.

Most people did, lately.

But the newcomer met your stare head on, confidently, if not a little confused. Pursing your lips, something about him set off alarms in your mind.

"What's your name?" You asked, still frowning. You hated being so angry all the time. You missed smiling. You missed your reason for smiling, too, but you had other things to worry about, somehow.

Like the son of Neptune who showed up on your front door.

The boy shifted on his feet, a bronze sword clenched in his tired hands. He looked far worse than you had realized at first, and his voice was exhausted when he answered you.

"Percy Jackson."

"Jason Grace!"

"Careful," He grinned, pointing his sword lazily at you. Your laughter echoed throughout the room, setting the world around the two you singing. "People might think your form is getting sloppy."

"Then they'll think you're a shitty coach," You teased, twirling your own sword as you danced throughout the room, always light on your feet. Jason chuckled, and if you could have bottled up the sound to keep forever, you would have in a heartbeat.

Your favorite moments were when it was just you and Jason, in the training center alone. With curfew fast approaching, everyone else was taking advantage of the two short, sweet free hours before lights out.

"Water break," Jason ordered, flipping his sword gracefully back into the golden coin he always kept in his pocket. You obliged him, slipping wordlessly over to your water bottle on the edge of the mat. "I was serious, earlier. You're dropping your elbows."

"And you're more stiff than a flagpole," You countered, raising a pointed brow at him. Jason gave you a look that screamed 'I don't think so', which was practically an invitation for you to mess with him. "Seriously, Jase, you gotta loosen up."

"I'm loose." He argued, and you let out another loud laugh, the kind that had your head tipping back with the force of your joy. Crossing the room to stand before him, you lifted your chin so that you had a chance at meeting his eye.

I'm loose, he claimed. The thought made you snort, again, as you took in his rigid posture, how even just standing, his arms were crossed over his broad chest.

"Jase," You crooned innocently, settling your left hand on his shoulder, fingers smoothing over the muscle. His reaction was instant, to your excitement. Flush coating his cheeks, his eyes tracking the movement of your hand against him.

Just as you had hoped.

"Baby," You taunted, and he actually choked, burning a bright red as you stepped closer to him, smirk on your lips. "If you're going to talk shit about my elbows, you better get ready to fight back."

Grinning wickedly, you held up the magical golden coin you had lifted from Jason's pocket while he was distracted.

"Give me that," He huffed, eyes rolling and catching your wrist before you could get away. Your laughter fell from you in echoing shrieks, trying to escape Jason as he tried to snatch the coin back.

You stuck out your arm in the opposite direction, trying to hold out as long as you could against him. How rare it was you ever were able to outsmart the great Jason Grace.

He simply pulled you closer, his longer arms stretching out over your body to try and get his coin back. Knees knocking together, your laughters mixed in the air.

By the time his fingers finally wrapped around the golden coin, you could barely breathe. Smiles spread wide over both your faces, you grinned up at him, cheeks albeit a bit flushed.

His arm was wrapped around your middle, holding you flush against his front. And even as he stuffed his coin back into his pocket, he kept his arm wrapped around you tightly.

You weren't going to complain, either, your own hands settling on the tops of his shoulders, toying with the collar of his purple camp shirt.

Gods, you were so in love with him, you felt it in your bones. How was it fair that the powers that be put him in your life, just out of arms reach? And how could Venus despise you so much that she would give you Jason Grace, let him hold you and smile at you, and not have him fall in love with you, too?

He was blinding, golden sunlight, and you just needed to be caught in his rays, however briefly.

"Why do you train so much?" You weren't exactly sure where the question came from, but you were certain it was an important one as you studied the emotions swirling in his sky blue eyes. Confusion, mostly, but also a hint of something so similar to admiration it made your skin feel flushed.

"We're soldiers." He reasoned, ever the level-headed Roman. And you loved him for it, really, but you loved him more than the Roman traits.

"Do we have to be, all the time?" You hated how desperate your voice sounded, and you hated Jason for making you ask.

"What else is there for us?" His counter argument was like he hit the panic button in your mind. And maybe if you had more time to think about how to best react, you would have slowed down and talked him through a life beyond the military prowess he had been practically conditioned to think was the only life for him.

But you didn't have time, and you could barely think, so all you did was pull away from his hold.

"Forget it." You mumbled, not entirely sure if you intended for him to hear. It wasn't his fault, you distantly reasoned, he didn't know any better. Raised by wolves then sent to Camp Jupiter? He had no chance at seeing any sort of life beyond battlefield glory.

But you weren't the daughter of reason. Your father was the god of thieves, and your emotions stole the moment from your fingertips.

"Hold on," Jason urged, taking a step towards you as you backed away, mumbling some excuse about needing more water. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Never, Jase." You nodded solemnly, your frown never once leaving your lips as you twisted back around to face him. "And maybe that's the problem."

I want you to break regulation and kiss the daylights out of me, you wanted to scream.

"I don't understand." He shook his head, open palms splayed up towards the sky, like he was pleading with you or the gods to explain to him.

You laughed once more, but this time, it echoed coldly in the empty training room. Gone was the sunshine smiled you wore, as if it had fallen behind the horizon as the real sun set over your head.

Bitterness twisted your heart, firing unfamiliar cruelty through your gaze, pinned on Jason. He almost flinched at the look on your face.

I don't understand, he had claimed. He didn't understand just how much you ached for him, praetor or not. Roman or mortal, you wanted him.

But he was a soldier, first. And maybe he was a soldier, only.

"Maybe that's the problem."

He called your name, but you were already out the door, letting the metal slam shut behind you.

You weren't enough of a fool to pretend to not see the lightning strike the roof of the training center, ruining the perfectly clear skies from only moments before. The only proof of Jason's frustration he would let the world see, you knew.

The only proof that maybe he ached the same way as you.

That night, you didn't sleep. Your poor bunkmates, listening to you twist and turn and try and get comfortable when it felt like knives were piercing your insides. Acid burned your tongue, cursing the appendage for ever trying to broach the subject about being more than soldiers to the other with Jason.

The next morning, you walked into breakfast, determined to avoid talking to Jason for at least a few hours.

Oh, what a mistake that wish was.

[fanaticsnail]

Daughter of the Sea: Chapter 5

Masterlist Here, Header Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,500+

Synopsis: The news you received made a ripple turn into a tidal wave, the information shaking you to your core and shatter not only your own heart, but the heart of your niece and her crew. The man you love pleads for you to process this information in another way, and you truly want to, but your duty causes you to place a hard barrier back up to fortify your heart.

Themes: Unrequited requited love, slow burn, long fic, long distance relationship, friends to lovers, found family dynamics, love over time, (smut, mdni 18+, NSFW - chapters will be marked accordingly), love-making, angst, hurt, gendered terms used, swearing, adult language. 

Notes: Benn Beckman x f!reader, platonic!Mihawk x f!reader, platonic!Shanks x f!reader, slight mention of MiShanks ship, Beginning: Shanks is 19, Mihawk is 23, Beckman is 30, f!reader is 22, Uta is 2 months old for the sake of the plot (canonically she's 2 years old). The f!reader is suggested to be native to Kuraigana with her mannerisms and language.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @since-im-already-here @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @indydonuts

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Approaching the land, you heard the soft music of Uta's songs spill from her voice and smelled the bready pancakes fried in sizzling butter. Immediately, your heart panged with a guilt unlike anything you had ever felt. Wanting nothing more than to join in on the merriment and remain blissfully ignorant, you kept your hood up and darted into the bar unseen. 

No sound was emitted from you that you did not intend, your skills throughout the ages not going unpracticed. As Shanks moved away from the main bunch, you tugged at his left sleeve, prompting his eyes to meet yours. You gestured with your index finger to your covered lips for him to remain silent, his face immediately growing cold at your attire. He gave you a curt nod, steely eyes holding to your own with absolute seriousness.

Leading him away from his crew and out of sight behind the bar, you stood upright and informed him of exactly what was relayed to you. 

“Mihawk has been promoted to one of the seven warlords of the sea, his orders now being given by the World Government,” your voice remaining hardened and emotionless, “His bounty is canceled, as has mine been by association.” Shanks’ surprise and horror wrote itself on his face, his expressive hazelnut eyes welling in rage. 

“What does that mean?” Although his words had all the elements to depict a question, there was no ask within. He knew what it meant, just as you came to terms with it moments prior. 

“It means, for now,” you felt the danger rise between you, “You, your crew, and all those associated with you,” you darted your eyes between his, “Are not only Mihawk’s, but are my enemy.” He clicked his tongue, immediately stepping forward and reaching for you, prompting you to step aside to dodge his embrace. 

“You're going to let him tell you how to lead your life?” he spat his question, looking at you with brutal animosity, “Going to let the World Government house-break you, to force you to serve them like a dog begging for a scrap at their master’s table?” He attempted to reach for you again, you stepping back to avoid him. 

“Please don't, Captain,” you attempted to keep your tone steady, the small wobble in your voice giving you away. “I-It’s hard enough as it is to come to terms with. You think I want this?” Shanks attempted one last time to grasp you, his two hands immediately finding your biceps and tugging you into a warm embrace. 

The tears finally fell as you buried your head into his shoulder. You circled your arms up his back, physically shaking through your silent sobs. He held you, placing his chin atop your head and biting back his own emotions. 

“How long until I can make contact with you or Mihawk?” he whispered, his hand smoothing your hood over your shoulders. 

“Two years for a single call,” you whispered between soft cries, prompting Shanks to raise his right hand to cup over his lips. He was wracked with grief, already mourning for his friendship with Mihawk and grieving the relationship he had developed with you over the years. 

“Letters would be out of the question until three to four years have passed?” he choked out, gripping you tighter as he felt you begin to fall apart in his arms. You admitted his rationale with a soft nod against him. 

“When will we see you again?” Shanks’ voice was barely above a whisper, his tears now spilling over his lash line and down his cheeks. You solidified your fate with two condemning words. 

“Five years.” 

Holding each other for a moment longer, both of your bodies remained eclipsed by shadow and your presence not missed from within the bar. After a moment, his kindness poured from his lips with a soft question. 

“Would you join me and my crew if I asked you to?” he tilted your face up with his index finger, “Serve aboard the Red-Force, live with Uta and be with her always. Use your skills as a spymistress to keep her safe, use them to make contact with Mihawk. Be with Beckman-.”

“-I can't, Shanks,” you whispered, the quiver of your mouth shielded beneath the shroud of the covering, “I owe Mihawk my life. I only live and breathe now because of him, and I refuse to leave him to bear this new burden alone.” Shanks' fury ignited, feeling the wound fester and bubble within him as he slowly released you. 

“You're not even going to say goodbye to them, are you?” he accused you, his anger feeling tangible as he bore his unrelenting stare against you, “You're going to slink and cower away like the viper you used to be, the snake I knew you to be all those years ago. Not even going to reassure the crew you don't hate them-.”

“-This was a mistake,” you whispered to yourself, backing away from him and shifting out from the shadows and into the light, “I never should've been persuaded to come here.” Shanks' stalking approach had you raise your arms in defense. Yassop straightened his back, immediately clocking your shrouded figure and whistling to get Roux's attention. 

“Get out of here, snake,” Shanks barked at you, his unblinking gaze having panic written itself over you, “Slither back into the beak of the hawk. Live in his talons, enjoy your wines in the gloomy prick’s castle in silence. Have no joy within the walls, and enjoy a life eclipsed by shadow.” Instead of backing away further, you stood firm in place. Your hands extended out in defensive combat, your eyes narrowing. 

“I am no mere animal you can bark at to intimidate, Red-Hair,” you snarled, a deep frown warning him to not to engage you further, “I have my orders, and you know where my loyalty lies. If this is where you strike me down, so be it.” Instead of taunting you further, his booming, commanding voice cut over the lively chatter within the bar. 

“Dracule Mihawk, lord of Kuraigana and World's Greatest Swordsman has been promoted to a mighty warlord of the sea, boys,” he barked to his men, voice dripping with hate and venom, “And his spymistress has decided to join him on this next plight as the whispering word of the World Government.”

Your panic shot up your spine, freezing you in place as you felt several eyes draw over your form. A soft cry of your name shattered your heart, Uta's voice quivering over every syllable of it. There was no more ‘Pretty Aunty,’ there was simply your name. The name felt foreign on her tongue, as did her absolute sorrow. 

“So, drink up to the promotion, boys,” Shanks continued his taunt, his humorless voice stabbing you in the heart with each subtle jab, “We have two new enemies in our midst: Dracule Mihawk, uncle to Uta, and my f-former-...” Shanks couldn't finish his sentence, his heart shattering at the memories he shared with his rival turned friend. 

Movement was temporarily gone from your mind, your body frozen in your defensive stance as you watched the Red-Hair Shanks fall apart in front of you. You wanted to lunge forward, to comfort your friend and to reassure him that both you and Mihawk still love him: want to see him thrive and grow, but your guard refused to lower. A soft and steady drawl called over to you, your name first shattering before his question tumbled from his lips. You were frozen, your eyes snapping over to meet the source of a soft question. 

“It’s true, Darlin’?” 

It would've been so much simpler to just leave, to flee the bar and not face the two sets of eyes you could barely stand the thought of meeting with. You were adamant to all who knew you that you were not a coward, not one to turn away when things got rough and you allowed your actions to speak for themselves. 

As soon as you drew your eyes up to his steely orbs, you were lost within their depths. His face had a soft tuft of flour smudged atop his chin, his hand holding a spatula for Uta's pancakes. You could feel everything in his eyes, watching as the windows revealing his heart to you began to eclipse with the hardened curtains of steely betrayal. 

“I have no choice,” you whispered to him, “I live in Kuraigana, I serve Mihawk as his-.”

“-Take that fuckin’ mask off and face me properly,” his bark stung deeper than Shanks’, Uta now clutching at him and soothing over his shoulders as he slouched on the ground. 

You closed your eyes, inhaling a deep breath through your nose before removing your mask by hooking your middle finger beneath it. Stalking lowly towards him, eyes refusing to depart from him for a moment. The image of him like this was branded in your memory, the former night and morning spent within each other's arms faded away with each soft step. 

“And your hood,” Beckman halted your slow approach, prompting your hand to raise to your hair and tug back the hood from concealing your hair. Again, you walked over to him, halting when he barked once more at you. 

“Your uniform,” he uttered in a low and bitter drawl, “Take off that thieving robe, and let me see you properly.” You immediately scoffed at him, untying the bands and loosening it from your body, revealing your torso adorned in a soft, dark bandeau. Marks of the prior night of shared love littered your body. The Red-Hair crew all witnessed the indents, welts and swollen kisses over your torso and shoulders, Beckman’s pride soaring in his chest as the cause for such unbridled expression of love. 

“Anything else, sir?” your low growl taunted him, chin firmly in the air as you looked down your nose at him. He raked his eyes over each mark, memories of the actions that caused them momentarily flooding his mind before his eyes met with yours. His gaze was hard and unmoving, unreadable and unexpressive, and it frightened you. 

“Aye, actually,” he handed the cooking supplies over to Roux at his side, “There's so much else that needs to be said, questions that I have that I know will lead to nothin' but heartache.” He stepped towards you, his shoulders squared as he looked down at your shorter form. 

“But I'll settle for this first,” he leant down, his arms immediately hooking over your shoulders and drawing you into his body. Lips locking with yours, you felt his sorrow stab at you like one of the blades tucked at your calves. You tried to hold back, tried to not give in to feeling the way you wanted to, but his lips coaxed every truth you could muster with his lips gently collecting yours beneath it. The shards guarding your heart melted away, all within the arms of the man you loved.

Raking your arms over his torso, your guard completely fell away. All of your prior, pent up guilt and sorrow pushed into him by meeting his passion and pressing more of yourself into him. His fingertips raked through your hair, his mouth humming against yours as you anchored yourself against him further. 

A soft shriek of joy prompted you to break away from the kiss, both of you snapping over to meet with Uta’s gleeful applause. Shanks sighed, cocking his head to the side as he watched you both lovingly continue to hold each other while Beckman glared at him. Uta rushed over to you, slotting herself between you both and circling her arms around you. 

“Okay, Pretty Aunty,” she suddenly uttered, prompting your voice to catch in your throat, “Can we please be enemies after breakfast? And can breakfast be extra slow?”

The desire to both laugh and cry overtook you at once, immediately slinking to your knees and out of Beckman's embrace to collect her in your arms. Uta mimicked your emotion, her tears spilling freely as she laughed with you. 

“I'm so sorry, gorgeous girl,” you whisper, pressing your lips against her cheek and giving her several soft pecks against her face, “I can’t. If the marines get wind of it, they’ll report it to Uncle Hawk and he’ll likely get punished for it. I can’t do that to him.”

“Not even gonna stay for a cup of coffee before you go?” Beckman jokes with you, his sorrowful voice holding a scrap of hope that you'll cave and remain behind with him. You gripped Uta tighter, ensuring she felt how hard this was for you to break from her. She clutched at your shoulders, her arms wringing around your neck and holding you close. You chose to ignore Beckman’s question, physically unable to answer him without breaking down further. 

“How long until we see each other again?” Uta whispered between soft sobs. You cradled her head, placing it against your shoulder as you did the first time you held her in your arms. Feeling your heart shatter as soon as the comparison was made, you whispered into her hair. 

“It will be five years until I can hold you like this, my princess,” you stuttered, “My beautiful, gorgeous girl,” you released her from your arms and gazed into her pooling eyes, “Daughter of the sea, with the sweet song of a siren.” She sniffled, her lip quivering and clenching her teeth against the flesh to halt her cry. 

“I promise I will watch over you,” you whispered after taking a moment to collect your thoughts, “While I may not be able to be with you like this in some time, I will always see you have your needs met in one way or another.” Just as you moved to pull away from the embrace, a warm hand cupped over your shoulder. 

“I’ll walk you to your ship,” Beckman’s stoic voice caused your spine to tingle and your heart to beat faster. You rose from your low bow after holding Uta for one final time. As she slipped from your arms, she immediately ran to Shanks. He cradled her, refusing to look at you as he shepherded his daughter towards the bar.

Elevating your body to your feet, you gripped your discarded clothes and slung them over your forearm. Refusing to turn back to face the Red-Hair pirates, or to acknowledge the man at your side, you began to make your way back to the docks. 

As your foot drew up to meet the plank of your ship, you were immediately halted by a strong arm slinking around your waist and drawing you back into his chest. Turning immediately in his arms, you hung your head low and balled his shirt within your clenched fists. 

“Oh, Darlin’,” his lips found the crown of your head, whispering softly against your hair, “You're truly gonna leave, just like that?” You sniffled, choosing not to say anything to him as he continued to prod at you, “Nothin' I can do or say to make you stay with me?” 

“Could I say anything to have you leave Shanks and join me in Kuraigana?” you shot back, looking up at him with your eyes narrowed and accusatory, “Could I have you give up piracy and work for the World Government with Mihawk to be with me?” 

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and sighing mournfully. He pressed his forehead against your own, raising his palm to collect your cheek within it. 

“I thought as much,” you smiled at him, your eyes softening as you gazed into his, “Just as I couldn't ask you to remain faithful to me in any other way. You deserve happiness and love, Beckman. If you find it with another-.”

“-Stop it,” he hushed you, pressing his lips against your forehead before gazing back down into your eyes, “I've only ever had your name written on my heart, and it will only ever belong to you.” Time stood still, both of your hearts yearning to remain beating as one. 

“I've wanted you in my arms for five long years, Darlin’,” he continued, his resolve almost breaking as he softly whispered his vow-like promise, “What's five more to someone like me?” 

“You know where to find me,” you whispered, hovering your lips over his as you stepped up onto your toes. Your breath was quaking, your hands shaking and your heart fluttering so hard you felt sick. 

“Keep a weather-eye on the horizon,” he uttered before his lips collided with yours. His right hand cradled your face, his left arm holding you firmly against him as you hooked your arms beneath his shoulders and held him firmly against you. 

His lips molded against yours, his feet ushering you up the panel to board your boat. Moving his left hand down to collect your hands, he moved them around his neck as he hoisted you into the air to carry you aboard. Kisses never ending, he wrapped your legs around his hips and caged your body against the topmost post in the center of your small ship. His hips stapled yours against the wooden post as his lips roamed over your face. 

“Beckman, I have to go,” you moaned, Beckman's lips trailing over your neck and towards your collarbone, “I have to go, now.”

“One more,” he uttered desperately, his lips finding yours and expertly chipping away at your intentions with each slow, intentional kiss. Your hand found his cheek, swiping at the flour he had spattered on his face from making Uta her pancakes, and you smiled against him. 

“Five years,” he murmured against your mouth, “Five years of waiting for you to admit you loved me, and five more until I get to have you again.” He playfully bit your bottom lip, nipping at the slightly bruised flesh. 

“Five years,” you confirmed with him, leaning forward in his arms to place a gentle bite against his jaw, “Unless we just so happen to be in the same area at the same time.” His body froze, his heart swelling at the notion. 

“We could accidentally run into one another,” his excitement gathered in the pit of his stomach, “There’s a few vineyards that Mihawk might need some samples from, and we could always do with more barrels to travel with.”

“Elegia is a beautiful country for music and poetry,” you informed him, trailing several kisses down his throat and nipping at the prior marks, “Uta would do well there with her vocal practice, and Mihawk always needs more romantic smut-novels to keep him entertained.”

“Oh, Darlin’,” Beckman found your lips by coaxing you up with his chin, “If you could use your talents to whisper a word to get to me,” he hummed against your lips, his longing already tangible in his motions, “I'll be waitin’.”

“We'll wait for the hurt and the heat to die down,” you whined against him as his hands hooked over your thighs and pressed more of himself into you, “Then we'll see how much I can get away with.”

“Don't do anything reckless,” he warned you, breaking his lips away to gaze into your eyes, “For now, keep your guard up and I'll do the same for the sake of Uta, my captain, and my crew.”

He placed you back onto the ground, immediately turning to aid you in readying your ship. As the last of the ropes withdrew, you shrugged your uniform back over your shoulders, leaving the front wide open to showcase Beckman's marks to him. Smiling, he jumped over the railing and began unweaving the ropes on the dock. 

“Whatever happens next, please know that my heart is with you,” you confessed to him, tugging up the wooden plank and tying it off at the side. “Enjoy your life, enjoy raising Uta, and enjoy wooing a variety of women-.”

“-Why would I want other women when I have you waitin’ for me?” Beckman scoffed, shaking his head, “You're worth enduring the lonely suffering of a man in love at sea.” You laughed at him, reaching forward and taking his hand in yours as your ship began to carry you to sea. 

“Then I will make your endurance well worth it the next time we meet,” you smiled at him, causing his heart to swoon for you as your grip slipped through his fingertips. He attempted to reach for you once more, but the distance was far too wide for him to meet his hand with your own. 

“I love you, Darlin',” he called to you, “No amount of years’ll change that.”

“And I love you,” you called in return. You saved your tears for the moment Goa kingdom was out of sight. 

The image of Shanks, Uta and Beckman was branded forever in your memory, prompting your breakdown to propel longer. Each item aboard your ship that was from the crew and your niece, you locked in a chest away with the entirety of your heart. 

There it would remain until the time came where you could expose your love to the light once more.

[jaydangan]

A talk about proshippers.

(A text about why i dont support proshippers, if you are one, or feel neutral about them, please dont interact with my account, thank you.)

(Theres no need to attack me because of the proshipper tag, i didnt attack anyone.)

⚠️ [TW: mentions of S/A, abuse, suicide,and pedo.] ⚠️ -----------------------------------------

For those who arent familiar with the term, proshippers is a abbreviation of "problematic shippers" and it stands for someone who likes or promotes problematic relationships, such as a minor and a adult, saying that the content is fiction and they do not support it in real life, other terms such as "darkshippers" "comshippers" basically mean the same thing, and many people that indulge in the consumption of these problematic media sometimes use emoji combos to identify eachother on the internet.

Now, where exactly is the problem with it, since they don't support it in real life?

Well, for starters, let me pick one problematic media as a example to set what type of content im talking about.

"Diabolik Lovers" will be my example.

I always loved the dark, """forbidden""" vibe that whole shit had. But something always bothered me, the way there was no consent in this situation made me not be able to like and appreciate the atmosphere because of the brutal and bad situation Yui was going through with no actual type of consent from her, made me furious.

What irritates me is the way the vampires treat her and don't ask anything, this falls to a different audience and ends up romanticizing the lack of consent because it's "just fiction" and this happens a lot with older women or teenagers who come into contact with problematic works like 50 shades of gray, after, 365 days, etc. This also has a lot to do with the sexualization that the world has done of "yanderes" and "no consent" in films or fanfics. The idea of ​​exploring this somewhat non-moralistic side of society has been around since the beginning, of seeing or doing things considered problematic, with analogies such as the story of Adam and Eve itself, which occurs a lot in Diabolik Lovers and which even rubbed off on me a little, but this idea is not new, and even today fiction is seen as a place where there is no morality, something that ended up being in the minds of many young people, and was EXTREMELY sexualized.

The amount of "non-con" or "dub-con" fics there are on the internet is honestly disgusting, and even these romanticized terms were created for these stories that contain rape, an example of this comes from the book Kamasutra itself, where punches, slaps and pinches were forms of affection, and women were encouraged to pretend they didn't like what was happening because men liked this dominant relationship, this idea of ​​forbidden things and even the sexualization of words like "baby" and " daddy" can also curiously come from this book along with many other works, where the man was encouraged to have an even parental stance towards the woman he loves, the thing is that to this day, the romanticization of the lack of consent occurs too much, and is seen as desired by several women and men, and for me at least all of this has a very strict limit.

Having problematic ideas happens, and it's normal, the thing is to understand that it's wrong, because the idea of ​​human curiosity happens, and you just have to study and repress what you know is wrong.

Interesting, right? We've had this since the world has been around, and that's why even though I understand the train of "fiction" thoughts of proshippers, I don't think this is a healthy practice because in the indulgence of these games of "playing too much with the forbidden" and of course, poking a little won't kill you, but this idea of "forbidden" may very well eventually soften your morals.

The amount of times that i've heard that danganronpa will take away my notion of what's wrong and how problematic murder is, happened more times than i can count, but what about the media and stuff like that? Why so much silence?

Keep in mind that i don't support de dehumanization of proshippers, including suicide bait or threats, just block them and move on, don't do to others what you don't want it done to yourself.

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

TLDR: The text discusses the discomfort with the lack of consent in romantically problematic works, which romanticize non-consensual situations. It criticizes how media often normalizes or sexualizes these problematic themes, particularly affecting women and teenagers. The text emphasizes that while curiosity about taboo topics is natural, it's important to recognize and understand the wrongness of these ideas to avoid moral degradation, thus being the motive that the author doesn't support any form of "proship".

[csashton]

Heartbreak - LN x Reader

Summary: an angsty breakup fic because im feeling angsty & sad

Pairing: Lando Norris/Reader

Warnings: angsty breakup fic

Word count: 1383

my master list 🖤

A/N: feedback is welcome - or just come be my friend and say hi, or - if you have a request of any type, send it over 🖤

“Remember when you used to look at me like that?” Your voice is soft as the couple strolls down the beach before you, lost in each other's eyes while the sun sets behind them. Really, it looks straight off of a romance novel cover. You reminisce on when that used to be the two of you, taking trips together or coming down to this very beach when he was home from races. Taking midnight walks or grabbing an ice cream to share.

He had been distant from you for the last few months, really the last half a year. A completely different person than the man you had fallen in love with just over three years ago. His answering huff strikes a nerve as you turn to look at him. “What?” you ask, leaning your head onto the bench you’re sitting on, eyes trailing the side of his face. He had the most beautiful side profile, even if he was currently squinting down at his phone screen. 

“Don’t you think that’s a bit dramatic, babe?” his voice laced with laughter, not bothering to look up from his phone. You tried talking to him about this a few weeks ago, but he had brushed it off - telling you that you were reading into things too much and that he was too busy to deal with it. 

“Not really, Lando.” You mumbled, unsure if you really wanted to start this argument here. Though you weren’t sure the next time you would be able to talk about this, he was always gone and you knew he would try to brush it off again. “You’re not the same as you were when we first started dating.” Your voice wavers slightly as you speak, returning your face to the ocean. 

“People change, I don’t know what you want me to say.” His voice is laced with frustration as he speaks, typing angrily on his phone screen. “I don’t treat you poorly, you live in a beautiful place. I give you everything you ask for. I don’t know what you have to complain about.” 

Your chest tightens in response as you let out a deep breath. “You know I don’t care about the physical things, Lando. It’s really shitty of you to even insinuate that. You asked me to move in with you, I had my own place. I buy my own things.” Rubbing your hands over your face, you shake your head for a moment. “Physically, you’re here, but emotionally? I’ve been on my own for a while now.” you explain as you take a steadying breath. 

Finally, he locks his phone and turns to face you. “I’ve been busy, what else do you want from me?” his tone is hurt, as you expected. “I want you to care about me, I want you to love me the way you did when we first started dating. I don’t know what has changed, I don’t know if you don’t love me anymore. I don’t know if there’s someone else - but I’m tired of carrying the emotional load of this relationship on my own.” You can't keep the tears from falling anymore, so you swipe them quickly from your face. “When’s the last time you asked me about my day? When was the last time you asked about my family? My job? My hobbies? About me?” you continue, hands trembling. “Do you even know that I got a promotion?” you ask - tone bitter as you shift away from him. 

His eyes soften for a moment, his hand comes up to rub his chin. A tell that he’s uncomfortable with the situation and doesn’t know how to proceed. “There’s- ” he hesitates for a moment, “I just have had a lot going on. A lot has been changing, and I think that I’ve grown out this time of my life?” he’s quiet when he finishes speaking, keeping his eyes locked on the waves crashing the shore. 

Your heart feels like it’s been stomped on, “What do you mean?” you can’t help the way your cheeks burn, nausea catching you off guard for a moment. There’s no way he means what you think he means. He wrings his hands together in front of him, letting out a long sigh. “I just think that we’ve outgrown each other. I think we have different priorities in life, and that we should go our separate ways.” 

“Oh,” you breathe out, you’re not sure how much time has passed - but you see the sun nearly below the horizon. Ironically close to how you’re feeling, left in the dark. “How long have you felt this way?” you ask, you’re not even sure if you said anything with how quiet your voice is. His response isn’t much louder, “I don’t know, maybe a few months? Four or five?” 

A surge of anger courses through you as you stand from the bench, clenching your fists. “You asked me to move in with you, I gave up my apartment and my space. All while you were feeling this way?” you spit out at him, pacing in front of the bench. “What the hell, Lando?” you rant, coming to a stop in front of him. 

“I thought it would fix how I was feeling. If we lived together, it would show me what my next step was. The next step to building our future together. But it made it worse. I feel trapped.” His words strike you as though you’ve been slapped, making you take a step back. 

You’d made him feel trapped, unhappy.

“I don’t understand?” you ask, pressing your lips together. “I gave you your space, I kept my job, and you’re gone all the time for races. I stopped going to races when you asked, I stopped our daily calls?” you explain needlessly. He sits silently as you continue, “You said you were happy, why didn’t you tell me you felt this way? We could’ve done something to fix it? I could’ve moved out!” you exclaim, tossing your hands in the air. “Why did you give up on us?” you ask, voice broken. 

As he opens his mouth to answer, his phone screen lights up in his lap. He tries to quickly lock it, but it’s too late. A scoff leaves your mouth when you see her face pop up, “It’s her, isn’t it?” you ask, stepping back while he stands up with his hands out.  “Baby - I promise we haven’t done anything. I didn’t cheat. We’ve just been talking, and she understands me. She understands how I feel. It feels new and exciting.” he ignores your question, stepping toward you. 

“You’re giving up three years of us, for her? Someone you told me to never worry about? You think you’ve outgrown this portion of your life? You haven’t grown at all. You’re still an immature little boy, you think she’s going to fix the fact you’re afraid of commitment? That’s why it feels new and exciting, Lando. You’re scared.” you hiss, not caring that the few people around are starting to stare at you. He reaches out for you again, “Don’t touch me. You can have her,” you wipe your tears again. “But do not call me for anything. I’m moving my shit out and I don’t want to hear from you ever again, do you understand me? Never, Lando. I don’t care what you do or who you do it with.” Your voice cracks as you continue, heart-shattering into pieces. “I wish you’d told me months ago so I wouldn't have wasted my time moving here, moving away from my family, giving up everything for you.” 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hurt you.” A sad laugh leaves your mouth before you can stop it, “Didn’t want to hurt me?” you ask, “didn’t want to hurt me?” you repeat louder. “Well, you fucking did!” you’re yelling at this point, hands thrown in the air. “Fuck this, fuck her, and most importantly - go fuck yourself. I’ll have my stuff gone by the time you get back from the race.” you seethe, storming off in the direction of the apartment. Turning your back on everything you’ve known for the last three years, everything you’ve loved, and everything you thought was your future.  

[ihhfhonao3]

ace attorney fic request: Maya starts taking clown training from Moe and gets her own clown uniform with the red nose and everything

OH MY GOD IM SORRY THAT THIS TOOK FORTY YEARS TO FINISH. All my motivation just DISAPPEARED like the beginning of May so I hope this scratches at least a bit of a (VERY LATE) itch. Thanks for requesting, fic is under the cut!

Lawrence Curls- better known as Moe the clown- wasn’t typically the type of man to be surprised by too much. If he was forced to pinpoint a moment in his life where he became so desensitized to practically everything, the last straw would likely be being a firsthand witness to murder. Not to mention that the person who was murdered was his own late boss.

There were many other events in his life that started to slowly etch away at his ability to care about most things. Practically losing all ability to ever talk to his wife or daughter was pretty up there in terms of life events that started to wear down the camel’s back. It was quite ironic when he thought about it- women always say that they love humorous men when it comes to relationships. But that wasn’t something that Moe was thinking about in this current moment. No, instead he was thinking about what to do with Maya Fey.

The girl had barged into the circus tent early that morning, startling Moe and almost making him lose his balance on a big inflatable ball. On accident, this time. But once he was sure that he wasn’t going to topple over, Moe hopped off the ball and asked what Maya needed. He remembered her being the assistant to that lawyer who defended Max Galactica not too long ago- Wright was his name.

Nothing could prepare Moe for the shock that came with hearing that Maya wanted to become a circus clown.

“I think it’d be fun!” She said. “And you’re one of the best clowns around I know!”

Moe almost corrected her by saying that he was likely the only clown around she knew, but he kept quiet. 

Maya continued to blabber on and on about how she admired Moe and his sense of humor, gushing about how classy and hilarious his jokes were. Moe thought she was simply being patronizing, but if that was the case, she sure as hell was convincing. Moe let Maya finish speaking before he talked himself.

“I just don’t really understand,” Moe said, eyeing Maya up and down. “WHY do you want to be a clown? Of all the careers there are, you choose… this?”

“Didn’t I make it clear? I admire you so much!” Maya said cheerily. “What you do is super awesome- I wanna be like you!”

“Yeah, well, I think you’re choosing the wrong role model here. This job made my wife leave me! HAHAHAHAHA!” Moe laughed.

Maya just stared at him.

“God, I miss her…” Moe mumbled. “I mean uh, this job doesn’t pay that well. Are you sure? I could teach you something way better, like business management!”

Maya made a face. “No thank you. I appreciate your offer, and congratulations on your promotion, but I’ve made up my mind.”

Moe sighed. “Whatever floats your boat, I suppose. Are you sure that this is what you wanna do? You’re completely and totally up for the task?”

Maya nodded vigorously. “Of course! I am but your pupil, sir.”

Maya made an exaggerated bow, and Moe laughed. He then told Maya to come back to the circus at the same time tomorrow, to begin her training.

So now Moe was here, sitting in his office, thinking about what he should do with this situation. He truly didn’t want to turn down such a sweet girl and crush all of her dreams, but she had such a bright future ahead of her doing what she was currently doing. Moe couldn’t exactly remember what it was specifically, but he was sure that whatever it was, it was miles better than being a circus clown. Looking back, Moe sometimes couldn’t even remember what it was that initially motivated him to become a part of the circus. He always thought himself to be quite funny, so surely the logical conclusion after that was to disappoint his family and become a clown. 

Of course, they hadn’t been disappointed at the beginning, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was, this Fey girl had so much life to live- and part of Moe worried that she was actively throwing her life away by choosing this career path. But another thing tugged at him- if she truly was passionate about this, who was he to stop her from following her dreams? Moe could remember a time when he himself was like that. Zealous and passionate, full of piss and vinegar.

Moe laughed at the phrase inside his head. What a dumb saying. Maybe he’ll make a joke out of that one at the next performance that was to come.

Eventually, Moe found his answer, after several minutes of deep thought.

He was going to accept the request and teach Maya how to be an amazing clown.

He quickly got to work writing down tips and ideas for routines that she could perform, depending on what area of clownhood Maya wanted to focus on. What she had to learn in order to tell jokes was very different from what she had to learn in order to dance on an inflatable ball. Moe made sure to take note of this, as well as write down rough outlines of ideas for routines that Maya could perform. At around two in the morning, he decided to call it a night and go to bed. 

Kicking himself for going to sleep so late, Moe dragged himself out of bed at the crack of dawn so he could practice a bit before Maya arrived. Sure enough, as Moe was reciting some jokes he had freshly come up with, the girl returned and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Ah! Maya!” Moe said as cheerfully as physically possible as he turned around. “Glad to see you again. You really are committed, huh?”

Maya nodded rigorously. “Totally! I’m dedicated to this clown thing! What’s my first lesson?”

“Well, have you thought about what kind of clown you want to be?” Moe asked.

Maya stared at him. “I didn’t know that there’s different types of clowns.”

Moe chuckled. “Oh yeah, there’s lots! …Well, actually, there’s only about four I could think of, and one of them is a scary clown, which we’re not doing. So you can choose between a joke clown, a stunt clown, or a prank clown.”

“What do each of them do?” Maya asked.

“Jokes clowns tell jokes like I do,” Moe said. “Stunt clowns do stuff like balancing on a big inflatable ball while juggling. And prank clowns suffer pain for the enjoyment of others. HAHAHAHA! I’m kidding. Well, not really. They do stuff like falling over on purpose and throwing pie in each other’s faces. Technically, I dabble between all three, but since you’re a beginner, let’s choose just one for now.”

Maya closed her eyes and thought. Within a few moments, she opened them back up again and said “Okay, I choose prank clown.”

“Excellent choice!” Moe said excitedly. “Now, let’s get to your training. Follow me to my office.”

Maya trailed after Moe as he headed to his office. Once he went inside, he opened a closet that had a bunch of clown gear. He pulled out a purple suit with yellow stripes on it and big plastic buttons that looked like pink flowers, then handed it to Maya.

“This will be your suit. Wear it well, it is a symbol of honor.” Moe almost burst out laughing at the absurdity of what he was saying, but he really wanted to sell Maya on this. He didn’t want to crush her dreams.

Just as Moe expected, Maya lit up and thanked him, then grabbed the suit and ran to the bathroom to immediately put it on. Moe waited for a couple minutes before Maya came back out, wearing the suit and a gigantic smile.

“Can I get funny shoes too?” Maya asked.

“Sure thing,” Moe replied, digging through his closet. “How does blue sound?”

“Perfect!” Maya said.

Moe handed the gigantic clown shoes to Maya. “Anything else you’d like?”

Maya tapped her chin, thinking. “OH! Could I have a big nose like yours?”

Moe stared at Maya. “This is my real nose.”

Maya went quiet. A moment passed before she said, “Oh… I am so sorry…”

“Ha! It’s totally fine,” Moe laughed. He was trying his hardest to not lose his patience, but he hated thinking about his nose. Far too many people thought it was fake for his liking.

Maya quietly took off her current shoes and replaced them with the big, broad blue clown shoes. She walked around the office a bit, trying out how they felt.

“They’re way too big, but that’s the point, isn’t it?” Maya said. 

“It is indeed,” Moe said. “Now you seem to be all set. Follow me down to the main tent and we can begin your training.”

Maya did a silent cheer as she started to stumble her way back to the tent with Moe. Moe walked extra slowly so as to not leave Maya behind, but she got a hang of the shoes quicker than he expected. Maybe she is meant to have this job, Moe thought to himself. Hey, I’d be crazy if I were to judge!

By the time the two had returned to the main tent, there were some other performers with the circus who were already there practicing. Maya watched as three women made a human pyramid together in one corner of the tent. It was extremely intriguing to her. 

Moe turned around to face Maya for a moment. “Stay here for a bit, will you?”

“I’ll be right here!” Maya beamed.

Moe strained a smile and then hurried to the front of the tent to meet Max Galactica at the entrance, who was just walking in. Maya couldn’t hear their conversation, but from the looks of it, Moe was telling him something important. After a couple of minutes, Moe returned to Maya.

“So, where do we start?” Maya asked eagerly.

“First off, I’m going to teach you what could be one of the most important things to know when being a prank clown,” Moe said. “And that is… the humorous fall.”

Maya seemed confused, so Moe stepped back to demonstrate. He walked a few paces before stepping on his own shoes on purpose, thus tripping and falling over. As he fell, Moe kicked his back foot slightly to propel him forwards and exaggerate the fall, and stuck his arms out to break it so he didn’t get too seriously hurt. Moe then stood up and took a bow as Maya clapped for him.

“What you’re gonna want to do is force yourself to fall,” Moe said. “After you do that, push off of the leg that still has a bit of traction. That emphasizes your fall and makes it funnier.”

“Okay, let me try!” Maya said.

Maya then followed suit in a similar fashion, tripping over her huge shoes and then falling over.

“Not bad, not bad,” Moe critiqued. “But you aren’t pushing forwards enough. Pushing off and forwards really gives the fall that oomph that audiences want. Practice again.”

Maya did as she was told, with her form only being slightly better this time.

“All right, practice your falls when you get the chance,” said Moe.

“I don’t get it…” Maya stated as she got up and dusted herself off. “Why do we want to break our fall? Wouldn't actually getting hurt be more funny?”

Moe snorted slightly. “You’re right, it would. But healthcare is too damn expensive in this country for us to be able to fall like you normally would. HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Maya looked a little bit disdained by that comment, so Moe coughed curtly and changed the subject.

“Ahem. Um, there’s different ways you can fall too, to switch things up so as to not be too repetitive in your routine,” Moe told Maya.

Moe then proceeded to show Maya how to fall to her side and how to fall backwards, as well as showcased the many different ways that one can slip on a banana peel. Moe explained the use of the banana peel and its significance to the clown act in a circus. Needless to say, Maya was truly enjoying her time learning how to perform in the circus. The magical glow in her eyes that was present when she was investigating the circus with Phoenix all that time ago had since returned, livening her attitude and keeping her cheery. Maybe Moe was disillusioned, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why Maya was so happy about this. He guessed that she was going to quit the whole ordeal sometime within the week.

Moe watched as Maya practiced her falls, mesmerized by her determination. Eventually, he snapped back to his senses.

“Um, I think that’s enough for now,” Moe said eventually. “Here, follow me. You can learn how to throw pies next.”

Maya beamed and wiped her hands on her pants, then followed Moe outside the tent. Directly outside of it stood three targets and a small stack of tin pie pans.

“Here is where I practice throwing pies,” Moe said. He picked up one of the tin pans, lifted it to his shoulder, and chucked it right at the target. It hit right in the center.

“That was awesome!” Maya cried. “How’d you do it?”

“Practice, of course,” said Moe. “And look-” Moe picked up one of the pie pans from the stack.

“We don’t have actual pies in them so we don’t waste resources, but we do have dirt packaged inside of them sealed with cling wrap and tape,” Moe said. He titled the pan to show Maya. Sure enough, there was a layer of cling wrap on the top of the pan, secured in place with duct-tape. Below the plastic wrap, inside the pan was a layer of dirt that filled the pan to about halfway. Moe handed the pan to Maya.

“Wow, it weighs almost like a real pie!” she said. “That’s super smart.”

Moe grinned. “Thanks, I came up with it myself. Now, throw that pan at the target, following my lead.”

Maya nodded and did as Moe did- raising the pan to her shoulder and chucking it as hard as she could. It landed near the left of the target.

“Almost,” Moe said encouragingly. “A little more to the right. Focus your eyes on the center of the target, at the bullseye.”

Maya retrieved her pan and tried again, getting closer to the center this time.

“Good!” Moe said. “Practice this and your falls for a little bit. Can I trust you to not burn down the establishment while I go work out some finances?”

“You can count on me, boss!” Maya said, straightening up and saluting at Moe, before proceeding to almost hit a nearby animal trainer in the head with a bad throw.

Moe grimaced. Part of him didn’t know how much he could count on Maya. She had ambition, but she was excitable at times. And new.

Moe headed inside the tent and eventually found Benjamin Woodman, who was aimlessly watching Max practice his magic tricks. Moe could’ve sworn he saw some scorn in his eyes.

“Ben,” Moe called. Ben looked up.

“Would you mind watching over the girl practicing pie-throws outside? She’s a newbie, I don’t really trust her to not knock someone unconscious,” Moe said.

Ben nodded and got up from his spot on the floor, exiting the tent without a word.

“Sometimes I wonder why I don’t fire these airheads,” Moe muttered to himself as he headed to his office. 

~~~

Maya picked up another pie pan and lobbed it at the target. It was slightly above the bullseye.

“So close!” she said to herself. She went to grab the three pans that she had just thrown, retrieving them from the grass. She then stacked them on top of the other pans that sat on the ground beside her.

Truth be told, Maya was having the time of her life. She was learning so much in such a short period of time, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she was learning about something that she actually cared about and wanted to learn. This wasn’t at all like her spirit medium lessons back in Khura’in. 

Maya threw another pie pan at one of the targets as a man in a white coat holding a ventriloquist dummy walked outside and started watching her.

“Oh, hello!” Maya said cheerily as she lobbed another pan. The man simply nodded at her.

Maybe he’s scared of my good arm! Maya thought confidently. She tossed another pan and then went to retrieve it.

The man watched her every move wordlessly, his expression unchanged and static.

“So, uh, what’s your name?” Maya asked, becoming increasingly nervous from being watched.

The man avoided eye contact, but in turn the puppet placed its wooden hand on its hip and spoke.

“The name is Trilo Quist,” the puppet said. “And this big oaf is Ben. Who’s asking?”

“M-Maya Fey…” Maya muttered. The man didn’t seem to move his mouth at all when the puppet spoke for him. Maya was impressed- the man must have lots of skill.

“Tell me Maya, why are you doing this… pan-throwing thingy? Don’t you have something better to do?” asked Trilo.

Gee, what a character! Maya thought to herself. “Eh, no, I was told to practice my pie throws. Mr. Moe said I should, actually.”

“Mr. Moe? Ha! A fool like that doesn’t need a respective title,” Trilo joked. 

Maya looked at him as she threw another pie pan. For some reason, that statement made her angry. “I’ll have you know that Mr. Moe has been nothing but kind and respectful of my goals here, not to mention very supportive and eager to teach me what it means to be a clown.”

“Whatever floats your boat, I suppose,” Trilo shrugged. Ben still refused to make eye contact. 

Maya threw another pie pan. “Why are you here anyways? I mean this in the nicest way possible, but if you’re just going to be here to insult my teacher, I’d rather you leave me be.”

“Your teacher, who is also my boss, I’ll have you know, instructed me to watch over you here,” Trilo said matter-of-factly. “He doesn’t trust you to not burn something down.”

“Har har,” Maya muttered. She wasn’t sure how much she liked this Trilo fellow. Surely the Ben guy was far nicer anyways.

“Why do you talk so much and Ben doesn’t?” Maya inquired as she retrieved her pie pans once more.

“That’s because Ben doesn’t have anything interesting to say,” Trilo said confidently.

Maya rolled her eyes as she stacked the pie pans once more and started to head back into the tent.

“Hey, where are you headed?” Trilo cried. “I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight!”

Probably because your regular job isn’t that important, Maya thought. “I’m just going inside so I can practice falling now.”

Maya could’ve sworn she heard snickering coming from the dummy, but she decided to ignore it. She found herself an empty section of the tent to practice in, wedged between some animal trainers and a magician. Maya cleared some of the sharp rocks and dirt from the ground and started to practice as Ben and Trilo watched her again.

As she practiced her falls, she wondered if Moe was going to come back. And she wondered how Phoenix was doing. And She wondered if Moe was proud of her. And she wondered if this was all a stupid idea.

“…Are ya sure you’re not getting hurt?” Trilo asked suddenly. “Because I’m pretty sure Moe will be a little more than ticked if he found that I was complacent in hurting a newbie. Even though you getting hurt should be your fault.”

“I promise, I’m okay,” Maya strained. Something about this Trilo guy made her irrationally irritated. Not to mention, if she remembered correctly, he was kind of a creep anyways. Maya wondered if it was the puppeteer or the puppet itself that was a creep. She settled on the idea of it being both of them.

“Alright, alright, I was just checking…” Trilo said. He sounded offended.

Maya was becoming increasingly irked by Trilo, but she tried her hardest not to let it bother her. She breathed deep in between her trips and falls, grounding herself before each time. After a little while, Maya was getting a tad bored.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I looked around the circus a bit, would you?” Maya asked Trilo more than Ben.

“I would mind, actually,” Trilo proclaimed. “You can’t walk around unattended.”

“So escort me,” Maya said, putting a hand on her hip.

Ben looked increasingly uncomfortable. After a long pause, Trilo eventually muttered “Fine.”

The pair that was more of a trio started to walk around the circus. Maya watched the magician Max Galactica, Phoenix’s old client, practice his magic tricks. She watched as he cut a box in half and fiddled with some pieces of cloth that were tied together into one long string. Maya didn’t really understand how any of that related to being a magician, but he seemed to know what he was doing. 

Maya then went to look at the animal tamers. Ben and Trilo stayed around thirty feet away from the animals, much to Maya’s suspicion. She assumed it had something to do with the lion scandal that happened all that time ago. Maya watched as a tiger jumped through hoops and a woman rode on an elephant. Regina Berry, the lead animal trainer, was cheering the creatures on as they performed their tricks. Maya smiled. Regina looked like she was having so much fun.

Maya eventually lost track of time and realized that she had been on too long of a break when she found that Ben and Trilo were nowhere to be found and Moe was approaching her.

“Maya!” Moe called. “Maya, come out to the front of the tent please. I need to talk with you.”

Maya hesitated. She was a little nervous. Had she done something wrong? Did Trilo and Ben tell on her? Did they say that she hadn’t been practicing? Maya swallowed nervously and went to the entrance of the tent.

“Maya, I just wanted to thank you for your dedication,” Moe said. “Not too many people stick around this long, believe it or not. So I admire you for keeping with it.”

“Oh, uh, thanks!” Maya grinned. “I’m actually having a lot of fun.”

Moe reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. “Here. I wanted to give you this. As a reward- and since you did want to have one of your own.”

Maya opened the box and inside was a classic red rubber clown nose. She gasped and immediately popped it on her face, laughing at how it felt on her.

“How do I look?” Maya asked, spinning in a circle.

“Like an absolute fool,” Moe smiled. “So, I trust you’ll come back here at the same time tomorrow?”

“Yes sir!” Maya said, saluting Moe. “You can count on me!”

Moe laughed. “Get out of here. Go home, have some dinner, say hi to that Wright guy for me.”

“I will!” Maya said as she started to run home.

She had oh so conveniently forgotten about the clown shoes that were still on her feet, tripping over them when she had gotten no more than thirty feet from the circus tent.

[wraithdance]

wait omg @mikichko

kiko your tags on my fic im gonna cry!! Putting them under the cut because I need to talk about the feels so sorry I'm gonna ramble!

#imagine my surprise when i go into this and see 'avoidant reader' and go 'oh thats me!'#fully expecting some light funny laughs about a reader who pushes this beast of a man away#only for you to fucking snipe the shit out of my soul and perfectly encapsulate my life and the emotional state im in

Listen I swear it was supposed to be funny and smutty but somehow it just got out of control and veered into me unpacking some shit lmfao. I'd already planned out writing something heavy and angsty for simon months ago but describing the scene with Foxy leaving and saying the dreaded words made everything else jump out. I love the reader inserts everyone else does but until now, I don't think I realized how much I just needed to see someone who was purposely a bitch and an absolute mess that could still be worthy of love. I'm not interested in heavily promoting this to the fandom because it's a project of love for myself and other avoidant/traumatized/bitchy girlies (gn)

#the therapist shopping#the break up text#the categories#holing yourself up and only presenting pieces of yourself to people that seem palatable#the strained relationship with parents *oof*#not bringing a single partner around them either#the grippy sock drawer

Yes!! omg I was so nervous about adding those parts because I've always had such a difficult time explaining the humiliating cycle of needing more mental help than 'Live, Laugh, Love' can get you. Especially when you have a history of trauma and poor parental relationships. it's so difficult to explain to people who don't get why you can't just move on, or WHY you can't just open up. By the time I was done writing I was like well fuck... I'm not sure if anyone else will even like this fic but it means a lot to me that you could identify as well and I hope I can turn this into something comforting later down the line.

#even the small scene where reader is about to open up to Duckie and finally accept the lifeline...#just for the universe to laugh and remind them that eventually even in the hard moments they'll pull away from them right as they reach out#jesus christ this had me crying on the couch#calvary you are evil (lovingly)#i absolutely adore you.

Please I started crying while writing that. I couldn't help but think at my irl Duckie. It wasn't intentional that I created her character to be similar to how me and my best friend are but it just happened organically lmao. they are so sweet and will not leave me the fuck alone even when I'm isolating/being a bitch. Truly such a good friend to me and my actual platonic soulmate and I just ended up translating the guilt I feel towards them .

But yeah I adore you back and sorry if this hurt too bad! I'm working on the next part now and I'm hoping to soothe things with Soap smut lol

[buck-yyyy]

BYLER FIC RECS BAYBEE!!

okay, im gonna do my best to include some that don’t have huge numbers to mix it up and give the authors the attention they deserve, but i only have so much time because i promised myself i would go to sleep at a normal time, so this will have to be brief :(

hey, mike? - 2,324 words, complete

okay, yeah, i had to do some self promotion, and for that i apologize T-T but have will and mike having a conversation on top of a rock in the middle of nowhere nevada mid volume one- also, this was not only originally written before V2, it’s also the thing that got me into writing. so. anyways self promo over into the other stuff now

like you already know (that you’re the love of my life) - 3,227 words, complete

truth or truth type thing!! mike asking will if he’s ever been in love, essentially a sweet lil coming out concession thing. really loved this one <33

if only we could meet again - 21,251 words, complete

in which mike and will lose touch but meet again midway through college. i’m such a sucker for college aus, and this one is SO underrated- the plot twist at the end, the parallels, the references? it’s all SO good

i’m thankful for my sister (even if sometimes we fight) - 18,047 words, complete

to those of you longing for mike and nancy to have a better sibling relationship, i present to you this fic. mike confiding in nancy and asking her for advice <3

you spin me right round - 2,624 words, complete

spin the bottle. says it all. mwah <3

sounds pretty gay - 15,699 words, complete

“no, mike, not all boys think that other boys are pretty” -dustin and lucas in this fic. mike is only oblivious when it comes to homosexuality and will and it’s for that reason that i love him

dustin henderson, the scientific method, and homosexuality - 3,252 words, complete

this one is SO beyond underrated and i DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW?? it’s told from dustin’s point of view, as he starts to realize that hey. maybe they’re like. Not Straight.

a quick warning before we proceed! as i scroll further back through my bookmarks, we come to a point where these fics were written before volume two and therefore may be slightly canon divergent. this next fic is about when that begins. but! i loved them before volume two, and i still love them now, and will therefore be including them in the list. keep an open mind <3

cartwheel heart - 14,638 words, complete

will gets vecna’d truthers, rise up! she’s angsty but my god is she good

in my room - 7,947 words, complete

in which mike and will just- talk. because god knows all they need is a genuine, truthful conversation, and all their problems would be solved.

P.S. i love you - 13,083 words, incomplete

of course mike wrote will letters, he just didn’t send them!

karen did though lmao

rocky roads with uncertain ends - 2,893 words, complete

anyways, volume one will deserved to be a little angry. thank you to this beloved author for letting that happen.

a very murray mistletoe - 4,827 words, complete

alright, this is probably the fic with the most hits on this entire list. it’s also my absolute favorite, and the FIRST fic i ever bookmarked when i got my ao3 account. @/andiwriteordie, you are incredible and i love your writing. anyways. for those do you who want a murrayed byler- READ THIS ONE!!

[powerfultenderness]

omg halloween fics im so excited! my first thought was the gang deciding to not dress up as anything spooky bc one member is comically afraid of the season, they go the wholesome route and all agree to dress as their heroes. peacemaker shows up in full 70s glam rocker costume. vigilante is, of course, dressed as peacemaker. and you show up in an adorably makeshift vigilante costume! hes saved your life a dozen times, of course hes your hero!!

Don't You Get It?

Rated: T+

Pairing: gn!Reader/Adrian Chase

Summary:  When the Adebayo’s request non-scary costumes at their Halloween party this year, you and Adrian are forced to get a little creative.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2192

A/N: Ah, ty for this suggestion! I liked it so much that it got a little out of hand and I had to cut out a couple of scenes! 😅

🔪[#Vigilante Halloween Masterlist] 🕊

[Masterlist]

[Dividers]

“No. Fucking. Way!” 

“What?” Leota called after you as you dashed further into the clothing section of the store.

When she caught up with you, you spun around with an excited flourish as you held up a black tee shirt. It had Vigilante’s signature chevron pattern printed on the chest. 

“Do you think Adrian gets a cut of the sales?” 

She laughed as you put the shirt back on the rack and grabbed one in your size. 

“How? They can’t just send a check to “Vigilante”. It would be cool though, maybe he'd be able to quit his job.”

You snorted out a laugh and dropped the shirt in your basket. “Can you imagine Vig as a full time crime fighter? You thought he was wanted on multiple counts of murder before?” 

“You’re right. Fennel Fields keeps him humble. I can’t believe you’re actually buying that.”

“I don’t know how, or when, but one day it’ll come in handy.”

She laughed and moved onto the next section of the store.

That was a couple of months ago. “Summer of Super Heroes” the store called their little promotion. There had been clothes based on other heroes, of course. Mostly Batman and Superman, but locations with local heroes also got merchandise based on them. Peacemaker and Vigilante had been hailed as heroes after the whole Butterfly incident, so they also had merchandise. It wasn’t much, it looked like you missed all of the Peacemaker merchandise, but you were lucky enough to snag a Vigilante shirt before it sold out.

Now Halloween was approaching and the Adebayo’s were hosting a party in which they were requesting no scary costumes. 

“I can’t believe I can’t go as Leatherface!” Adrian complained while you stitched him up from his latest recklessness. 

It hadn’t been an official ARGUS mission, but you had a major soft spot for the vigilante, so you gave him a standing offer to help him out whenever he needed, and he needed help often. According to him, even your band-aids were somehow even better than his! 

“I was gonna bring a chainsaw and everything! It’s not fair! I can’t even use a chainsaw on pretend bad guys!”

You finished up, double checking your work just for the chance to subtly run your fingers across his incredibly chiseled abs. “I don’t think there are going to be many pretend bad guys anyways, V.” You started and pulled your hands away from his warmth and removed your gloves. “Remember Adebayo suggested that we come as our hero or something.”

"That's so lame!"

You started to tidy up your med kit while he tossed a shirt on. “Hmm.”

“What?” He asked once his head popped through his shirt.

“Nothing, really. I just thought you’d be jumping at the chance to dress up as Peacemaker.” 

He loudly gasped and his eyes went wide.”You’re right! It’s not lame!” But just as quickly as he had changed his mind, he returned to pouting. “But, where am I going to get a Peacemaker shirt in time?!” 

“Just buy a red shirt.” 

“But it’s gotta have the dove of Peace on it!”

“Paint it on?”

“It won’t look good if I do it!” He huffed, “can you do it?”

“Hmm, probably not well.” You conceded. 

He whined and pouted again, so you continued to spin ideas for him. You couldn’t have your favorite boy feeling all sad, no matter how cute he looked.

“Doesn’t Chris have multiples of that shirt? Just use one of those?”

He looked at you dubiously. “I know you think I’m big and muscly,” he was, “but P’s shirts won’t fit me! It’ll look stupid if it’s all baggy!” 

“Okay. Tell you what, if you can get one of his shirts, I can do a bit of tailoring and bring it in for you.”

“Really?” He gasped and leaned forward on the desk he was sitting on.

“Yea. I’ll even let it back out after the party so he doesn't get mad at you for ruining one of his shirts.”

“You can do that?”

“Pretty easy, actually.” You nodded.

“You’re so cool!” He hopped off the desk and pulled you up into a big hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He rocked you from side to side as he continued to hug you. 

“Calm down, Vig!” You winced from how loud he was.

He dropped you with an apology and a wide smile gracing his lips, then helped you clean and lock up before leaving Henenlotter in a rush, presumably to borrow one of Peacemaker’s shirts.

-

The next day he texted you saying that he got a hold of one of Peacemaker’s shirts and he was going to drop it off at your place. It was later than you expected when he actually showed up, but considering he was wearing his Fennel Fields uniform, you guessed he just got off of work.

“Hey,” he greeted as you let him in. “Can I change here?” He motioned to the duffel bag in his hands, one you’d seen many times before and knew to contain his Vigilante suit.

“Sure.” You took the Peacemaker shirt from him and tossed it on the back of your couch. Then you grabbed the measuring tape you set out for when he got there. “But before you put your Vigilante suit on, let me take some measurements.” 

“Ok!” He said cheerily, but he walked away towards your bathroom.

“Oh…no.” you blinked, “I meant…” well he was already in the bathroom…

Sure enough, a minute later he returned to the living room in nothing but his tactical pants and socks. Not that you were going to complain.

It surprised you (not for the first time) how soft his skin was. Usually when you patched him up, you wore gloves, robbing you of the feeling of his skin. But now, as you took his measurements, you were reminded of just how soft his skin was. So few scars actually covered his body, despite how often he got hurt. You’d only been around the team for a few months, a more than welcome field medic, and by all accounts, he should have way more scars, but even the wound you stitched up last night was nothing but a light pink blemish that was sure to fade completely rather soon. 

“Do you have a costume yet?” He asked once you let him go. He sat down on the couch and started to slip on the rest of his suit.

“Uhm, not really.” You half lied. You had an idea, and you were pretty certain you could get all the components for the costume from your existing wardrobe. 

“Oh! If you want, I can borrow another shirt from Peacemaker and we can match!” 

His smile was so cute that you almost felt bad for shooting him down. But there was no way you were going to wear a Peacemaker costume! “No thanks, I’ll think of something before the party.” 

“Aww! How awesome would it be if we were both Peacemaker though?” 

 You chuckled and steeled your nerves. Honestly, if he kept that up you might just give in. “Maybe we can wear matching costumes next year?”

-

You were running a little late to the party. A quick text to Adebayo meant that no one was worried, though Adrian kept texting you updates on the party and sent a few pictures as well. (You may have saved the selfies that he sent. He just looked so happy and so good that it was hard to resist!) 

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It wasn’t just the 11th Street Kids, but some of Keeya’s friends and coworkers as well as some of their neighbors. So it was a bit hectic when Leota answered the door. She was balancing a bowl of candy in one arm and a dog in a doctor costume in the other.

“Hey! Happy Halloween! Come on in!” 

You followed her in with an enthusiastic greeting. 

The dog in her arms started to squirm so she motioned to a room off the side of the entryway. “You can put your coat and hat down in there.” 

“Alright.” You didn’t bother to correct her, that the plain black baseball cap that you wore was part of your costume, as you headed for the room she pointed to.

Before you even opened the door, you heard your name yelled from across the party.

Adrian had spotted you walking in, in fact he’d been eagerly checking his phone for a text from you and watching the door every time the doorbell rang. He quickly caught up with you as you entered what you assumed was a small guest bedroom, if the twin bed tucked in the corner and piled with coats was anything to go by. 

He started to excitedly tell you how everyone, even Peacemaker,  said his costume looked so good. And that because of your tailoring Peacemaker hadn’t even noticed that he borrowed a shirt from him in the first place!

“Wait, you didn’t even tell him you were borrowing his shirt? Adrian, isn’t that stealing?” You teased him as you dropped your coat with the others on the bed. 

“No! It’s not technically stealing because…” he stopped talking as he took in your costume.

Once you had the Vigilante shirt, it was easy to put together a Vigilante costume, as you already owned tactical pants and combat boots. 

You raised a brow at his sudden silence. “Adrian?”

“...Holy shit. You’re dressed as me?” 

“Yea!” You smiled, then pulled up the black neck gaiter you were wearing and popped on a pair of red sunglasses. “What do you think?” 

“...You’re dressed as me.” 

You blinked and started to get a little concerned that he was repeating himself. “Yea..? Not enough? Too much?” 

“No. I don’t think you understood what Adebayo said. We’re supposed to dress up as our heroes.” He emphasized his point by clapping his hands together.

You looked down at your costume before looking back up at him. “Yea dude, I got that. We had a whole conversation about it while I was giving you stitches, remember?”

He gave a little frustrated growl, like you weren’t understanding him, and scrunched up his face. “But you’re supposed to dress up as your hero! And you’re dressed up as me!” 

You took off your sunglasses and pulled the mask down so he could see your face clearly. “Adrian, Vigilante has saved me at least a dozen times, if not more! You saved me. So of course you’re my hero.” 

He swallowed, “o-oh…”

You broke the slightly awkward silence that followed with a quiet cough. “But if you want me to change or something, I’m sure Leota has some-”

“No! No. I just, uhmmm…” Adrian was looking up as he tried to think of something, anything, to say. His blush no longer stained his cheeks because of frustration, but you had just called him your hero. 

“I look that good, huh?” You giggled a little nervously as you copied the Peacemaker hero pose (that you’re pretty sure he just made up) that he kept doing in the pictures he sent you. 

That seemed to snap him out of his stupor and he grinned at you. “Well you are dressed as the second coolest hero!”

“What? I’m totally dressed up as the first coolest hero!” 

He blushed even more, even the tips of his ears were turning pink, and looked down at his feet.

“Which makes what I’m about to do a little weird.” You finished and flipped your hat backwards.

He looked up and tilted his head in that cute way he always did when he was confused. “What are you about to do?” “This.” You quickly kissed him, just a little peck of the lips. 

You meant to kiss him and dash off to the party to deal with however he felt about you kissing him later, but he quickly grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him. 

He dropped his forehead to yours, his nose lightly bumping against yours and he grinned. “Eat peace, motherfucker.” 

You snorted out a laugh, unable to control your chuckling until he kissed you. He was smiling against your lips, laughing with you even as he nipped at your bottom lip. 

“Nu-uh! You guys are not having sex in here!” Leota yelled as she stood in the doorway pointing at the two of you.

You and Adrian jumped apart slightly, but he managed to keep one hand on your back, as you looked at Leota in surprise, neither of you heard her open the door.

“We weren’t going to have sex!” You protested her assumption.

“We weren’t?” 

You coughed quietly and looked at him. “Well, not here, anyways!” 

Which meant that you were open to have sex with him anywhere else! “Awesome!” 

Leota eyed you, though you could see the amusement in her eyes, and ushered you out of the room.

You weren’t sure what was sweeter, the candy you kept munching on, or how closely Adrian was glued to your side for the rest of the night.

Tag list:

@lululandd

[himbobathwater]

hey all-- thought i'd give a life update

things haven't been great recently. i'm taking an indefinite hiatus from writing because of the amount of stress i'm under right now. i think my followers and especially my mutuals (ily guys /p) deserve a bit of transparency because i've been pretty inactive for the past week beyond liking a few posts.

1) to start off with some good news-- i am planning on finishing summertime. just not now. this fic is my baby, i intend to see it through to the end, especially since we're so close now. i'll admit i haven't been as proud of the past few chapters but i still think i'll end up with a nice, well rounded story. after that i'll take a break from multichaps and only post the occasional oneshot until i think i'm ready for another multichap.

2) i've been doing a lot behind the scenes. the main source of my stress right now is the amount of work in activism i've been doing. without going into much detail, i've been doing a lot of pro-palestine fundraising, protest planning, etc. that my parents don't exactly approve of. i thought that despite our jewish heritage that they would be understanding of the situation at hand and how important this cause is, but they have a warped idea of what's happening in gaza and think i'm promoting antisemitism. they have strongly urged me to stop what i'm doing-- i won't stop unless they threaten to send me home from school. that is the only way they can get me to stop. i'm more than willing to create a rift between myself and my family if it means i get to support a cause like this, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. it's the loneliest i've felt in years.

3) the semester is ending and i have a lot of schoolwork to do. i registered for next semester's classes today, got waitlisted for two classes, my advisor is being unhelpful (pretty sure she thinks i'm a freshman LOL), all that stuff. luckily next week is our thanksgiving break and i'll get a much needed week off, so i have that to look forward to.

4) i have like, 200 dollars in my bank account. that's bad. i cant afford groceries right now without completely breaking the bank. my school's meal plan is pretty much all i have right now.

to end this post off, i want to encourage you guys to not worry too much about me. despite everything happening right now, i think i'll be okay. although i'm taking a hiatus, writing has still been a good outlet. if nothing else, im getting great poetry out of this. and since i'm a writing major, i think that's good? or maybe my professors are gonna start looking into referring me to a therapist. it's fine either way. it's gonna start snowing here soon, which is nice.

i'll be back soon. not going completely inactive, just stepping back a bit. see y'all later :3

[allylikethecat]

hello!!! i missed talk shop tuesday but im assuming i can still come to chat :)

How long have you been a 1975 fan and when did you decide to become a fic writer for the fandom?

most played 1975 song of all time?

if you could choose any artist for a musical collaboration who would you want?

and lastly, just for fun what is your hottest take just in general not necessarily about the fandom?

You are ALWAYS welcome to come chat!! My inbox is ALWAYS open and I get so ridiculously excited that people even want to chat with me so THANK YOU!

I've been a fan of The 1975 for too long at this point 😂 I discovered them during the self titled era via Tumblr / Chocolate being played on the radio my senior year of high school. I thought Matty was super hot 😂 I actually still have the promotional Twitter DMs that they sent out during the ILIWYS era saved on my account because looking at them makes me laugh - wow have we come so far! (I also distinctly remember watching them on SNL the first time and the TRSMT festival performance with my college roommate and her being like whoa he is not okay) HOWEVER, I didn't get involved in the fic writing side of the Fandom until last year. I had done some lurking on AO3 over the years, but never fully committed to it. Then BFIAFL came out and holy crap did that album just like totally consume me, it also lined up with my life totally falling apart and so I dove extra head long into anything to do with the boys as a little bit of an escape / distraction a good IRL friend of mine was the one who encouraged me to actually start writing my own fic and posting it / making a fic Tumblr and now here we are 😂

Probably The City - I'm not actually entirely sure because I've been listening to this band for so flipping long that I had to listen to A PHYSICAL CD IN MY FIRST CAR and also this was like prespotify for me and I had to BUY THE SONG ON iTUNES and listen to it that way. So we're talking about me trying to pull and compile data from multiple places. I do however know that was my first favorite The 1975 song and I did listen to it on repeat obsessively for a while there.

Not to be controversial but I would KILL for that scrapped Taylor / The 1975 collab - think their voices would really complement each other as would their writing styles and George's production. I don't really enjoy a lot of the Taylor stuff that's been happening lately because as a football fan I hate Travis Kelce, and I hate how her fans treated Matty last spring and I don't want him to have to go through that again but WOW I feel like a song between them would be incredible.

Hottest take in general? Hmmm I am a wealth of hot takes... honestly my instinct was to say that I fucking hate bean sprouts they are little strings of evil but I think that's just because I got dinner with some friends tonight and I forgot to say no beansprouts in my pad thai and was just like traumatized by the pile of them on top. They all laughed at me because my hatred of bean sprouts is very well known. I'm sorry that's a very lame hot take. OH ALSO NOT ALL FUCKING HORSES CAN BE BAREFOOT AND NOT ALL HORSES SHOULD BE BAREFOOT REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIAL MEDIA WARRIORS SAY. I FUCKING WISH POP COULD BE BAREFOOT IT WOULD SAVE ME SO MUCH MONEY BUT ALAS HE LIKES HAVING PIECES OF STEEL NAILED TO HIS FEET EVERY FIVE WEEKS.

Thank you so much for sending this in!! Getting to chat and ramble on was so exciting!! Thank you so much! I hope you had a wonderful day and that you have the best rest of your week!

❤️Ally

[idy-ll-ique]

Voices.

Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader

Genre: nothing but floofy-floof

Warnings: none

Requested: nope

Summary: in which you can hear the voice of your soulmate in your head and Y/N's soulmate is someone really special— her celebrity crush.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! do y'all know how long ago I wrote this fic, like— at least 2 years ago. damn. so in advance, im sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes or bad punctuation in the fic that I forgot to correct (apology for bad english 😌)

oh and

bold/italics - chris

only italics - y/n

---

Hey, you still there?

Y/N snapped out of a trance and focused on the voice. Yeah, yeah I'm still there, she thought to herself. She was hearing the voice of her soulmate, or rather, was speaking to him, telepathically. The thing is, you could hear the voice of your soulmate in your head. You could talk, hold conversations, but the only thing was that you couldn't ask for their name.

You had to guess. Most of the people made plans, like let's meet here or there and concentrate hard enough, I'll see your name written on a paper. It was a thing, I mean, if you concentrated hard enough, you could see what your soulmate was doing. It was like a cheat code of sorts. Most of them found their soulmate in that way.

You see, Y/N loved surprises, so she wasn't going to find her soulmate just yet. Y/N wanted to figure it out for herself. Your soulmate couldn't hear every single one of your thoughts, though (which was how she had zoned out mid-conversation). Listen, we should meet up sometime.

Aw, already? she thought with a pout on her lips. Yes, I'm very excited to meet you, I've been waiting for too long, the voice replied, chuckling. It was a manly voice, really deep and raspy. She loved it. When Y/N was small, about 4-5 years old, all she could hear were swear words and dirty thoughts; characteristics of a teenage boy.

From that, she inferred, that soulmate was much older than her, about 8-9 years older than her. She didn't mind, She was kind of into older guys anyway… But I like this game we have! Why do you want to ruin it? she asked, shaking her head. Alright, sweetheart, just for you, I'm holding back. But I don't have much patience, the voice laughed. Y/N smiled.

Without even meeting her, Chris loved the voice in his head. She sounded so sweet and welcoming, maybe she was younger than him. He couldn't wait to meet her. Chris had tried to plan their meeting for so long now, but she just wouldn't give in. She was also a feisty one. He smiled to himself as he walked down the street, engaged in thoughts about his soulmate.

In his haste, he accidentally bumped into someone. "I'm so sorry!" he blurted out, instead hearing a soft ouch, shit in his head. His brows furrowed. The lady he had bumped into just kept on walking. Are you alright? he asked his soulmate in his mind. Yeah, just bumped into someone while walking.

I bumped into someone just now too! he told her excitedly, still staring at the lady who had now stopped in her tracks. She turned around, scanning the crowd. Then she looked at him, but maybe she didn't realize that she had bumped into him. Holy shit, I see— Then it all went blank. See what? Chris questioned desperately.

He still wasn't sure whether the woman he had just bumped into was his soulmate or not.

Why can't I say the name of the guy who played the role of Captain America?

Chris froze and stared at the lady, jaw dropped. She was lost in her thoughts, confused. He slowly walked to her and stood in front of her; she stared back at him, her heart racing. This was her celebrity crush, who was currently looking at her as if she hung the moon. But why? Why was he looking at her like that?

"You can't say his name because that's me, you technically can't say his name because you aren't allowed to," Chris whispered to her, smiling softly. Her eyes widened.

"You! You're the voice I hear in my mind! Chris freaking Evans is my soulmate?! How did I not realize?!" The woman exclaimed, shocked. Soon though, she got a wide smile on her face. His eyes widened too, hers was the voice he heard as well! "What's your name?" he asked her as they hugged. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N," she replied, smiling.

"Wanna join me for a coffee?" he offered, holding his hand out. She put her palm on top of his and nodded. Both of them entered a nearby coffee shop. "So, what do you do?" he asked her after ordering two coffees. "Nothing. I'm unemployed right now, just got out of my last job. I gave an interview yesterday at Ralph Lauren, just waiting for a call back," she shrugged.

"Oh, into fashion?" he asked her, smiling. "Yeah, got my degree and all. Just needed a job, Ralph Lauren offers a good amount of money," she chuckled. Chris smiled again. "Reminds me of Rachel Green." She laughed more, which warmed his heart. Her laugh was adorable. Suddenly, her phone rang and she looked at him, wide-eyed.

He nodded dismissively and she picked up the call. She spoke for a while and when she ended the call, she had the biggest smile on her face.

"I got the job at Ralph Lauren, I'm starting tomorrow!" Y/N squealed. They couldn't have picked a better timing. "Congratulations, Y/N!" he told her, grinning. After spending some more time at the cafe, they parted ways. She went home while he went back to the sets where they were filming Avengers: Age of Ultron.

"Hi Chris, you were out for a long time, what's up?" Chris Hemsworth asked, smiling at Chris Evans as they stumbled upon each other. "Nothing, just met my soulmate, had a cup of coffee with her." The older Chris feigned nonchalance. "You what?! That's awesome, man! So, how is she, what does she do?" Hemsworth asked him excitedly as both of them walked inside.

Robert and Scarlett were there, talking. "She's so beautiful, I stopped functioning when I saw her. She works at Ralph Lauren, she's a fashion designer," Chris told him with a smile. Robert and Scarlett looked up. "Who?" Scarlett questioned. "Y/N," he said simply, sitting beside Robert. "Who's that?" Robert inquired. "My soulmate." Chris smiled, as if in a trance.

"Boy, you look like you're in love," Scarlett laughed. "Because I am, she's that beautiful," he told her adamantly. "Whoa, did you ask her out?" Robert snorted. "I'm back from our first date." We had our first date right now, didn't we? he asked her in his mind.

Of course we did, I loved it. Hope to meet you again soon, her voice replied and he could practically feel her smile.

Sure, I'm in town for a few more months, I'll mind-text you as to when I'm free, he told her, sporting a smile on his face. She outright laughed in the comfort of her own home. Mind-text? Sounds fun, she agreed and focused on the Netflix series she was watching, turning off the "magical telepathic link" between them.

Chris, too, focused on the others only to see them smiling at him. "Talking to her?" He nodded at Scarlett. A few minutes later, all of them went to another room to begin with the shooting of a new scene.

---

Y/N danced as she prepared dinner, singing along to You Don't Know Me by Jax Jones. It had been a month since she last saw Chris. He had promised her a date, but he didn't get time. She couldn't blame him, he was a busy man. Y/N was shouting the lyrics of the song in her head, unaware of the fact that Chris was snooping in on her mind.

Hey, calm down, she heard Chris chuckling in her mind and shrieked in real life. What are you— are you snooping on my mind? Chris! she thought, scandalized. He laughed more. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I wanted to ask you out. Are you free right now? We could meet in the same coffee shop, he asked. She grinned and nodded to herself. Of course, I'll be there in 15.

She quickly got dressed, wearing a pair of track pants and a t-shirt (like she was wearing on their first date). She didn't bother with her hair or makeup, it looked good anyway, she just bolted out of the house. Y/N entered the coffee shop to see Chris already sitting there, wearing a suit. She cursed herself mentally, making Chris look up.

He stifled a laugh. She went and sat in front of him.

"I'm so sorry I look like a single mother of two kids who hasn't slept in a year," she moaned, "I didn't know you were gonna show up in a suit." She facepalmed for good measure. "It's quite alright, you look beautiful. I wouldn't have you any other way, I should say. I'm coming back from a party right now, therefore the suit."

She blushed softly at his compliment. He ordered two coffees for them and they started talking. "So, how's your job at Ralph Lauren?" Chris asked, smiling at her. "It's amazing, I got promoted. Now I'm the head of the department, with my own office and all," she told him, smiling back. "That's great! Oh, congratulations, honey," he grinned.

"Thanks," she muttered, blushing slightly when he called her a nickname. "You look cute while blushing, has anyone ever told you that?" Chris winked as their coffees arrived. "No one, ever. I don't interact with people much, it's a tedious job," she half-joked, smiling.

"Really! So who are the people you talk to?" he joined in. "Well, there's my assistant, my mother, my bro and you. That's all. I've got some friends, but I rarely talk to them, only on the phone while texting, that is," she shrugged. "Nice, nice," he nodded as they finished their coffees. "Allow me to drop you home," Chris offered, taking out a key which she found out was for his bike as they left the café.

"No it's alright, I'll go," she refused immediately. "Nonsense, you're practically my girlfriend! I'm going with ya," he shook his head. They looked like an odd couple; one wearing a suit while the other looked like she had just woken up. Surprisingly enough, the one who looked like she just woken up had the best fashion sense among them. "Hop on," Chris grinned.

She sat down behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Both of them chatted for the 2 minutes that took them to get to Y/N's home. Once they reached her building, she got down from Chris's bike and turned to him.

"Thanks, Chris, this has been an amazing second date. Can't wait for the third," she told him with a smile. "Me too," he smiled back. A few seconds later, she turned to leave but Chris suddenly grabbed her hand, turning her around. "Wha—" She didn't get to finish her sentence as Chris pressed his lips to hers. She kissed back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I just had to, sweetheart," he panted as they pulled away from each other, breathless. "Wow," she breathed out as Chris rested his forehead against hers. "So, um, see you on the third date, yeah?" Y/N giggled as they stepped away from one another, smiling. "I'll make it as quick as possible. Can't stay away from you, darling," he winked.

"How flattering," she winked back and turned to leave, purposely adding a sway to her hips knowing that he was watching. And fuck, was he watching. "Oh, the things you do to me, my dear Y/N."

"I heard that!"

"Good!"

---

A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[imfiguringitoutlovely]

Good morning (it’s 3 AM for me rn 😅) and I accidentally over-exerted myself (by studying for 7 hours straight) and am currently dealing with a massive headache that refuses to go away so now I can’t sleep...

Can you please write headcanons, a short story, or whatever you’d like of Gang Orca (I simp for the fish-man too 🙌) with an SO in my situation? It would be very much appreciated!

gang orca with workaholic reader

pairing: gang orca x gn!reader (they/them)

genre: "sick"fic, comfort, fluff

warnings: mentions of burnout

author's notes: GANG ORCA SIMPS UNITE I LOVE THIS MAN AND HH i sWear, i can never decide if i want to marry him or be adopted by him bc the dilf energy 😩

im also really sorry you're dealing with that. :( i know how absolutely horrible it feels to work yourself to the bone only to have your body punish you for it. please take care of yourself! you deserve to be mentally and physically healthy :)

from day one of you two dating, kugo made his admiration of your determination to work very clear. it was very important to him that his partner understood the importance of work and why it was, at times, harder for him to straighten out his work vs home priorities.

past partners had expected this luxurious, attention-filled life, but it just wasn't the reality of his work. he wasn't really home, and when he was, he was doing digital work. running a hero agency as the #12 hero took a lot more than saving a couple people a day, so his partner would have to accept that though they didn't come second, there would be times where work had to take priority. and you not only understood that, but lived in the same world as it.

because of this, though, he was also placed in the same position of those past partners. and god, now he realized how wearing it was emotionally.

this man loved you. you two were in it for the long, long, long run, so to see you work your health away made his heart ache terribly. it inspired him, actually, to give in and hire more employees soley devoted to paperwork so he didn't put the same worry up for you.

the problem of your restless nights still continued, though. you worked yourself to the bone everyday, all day. since you worked from home, from the minute you were up to the second you were forced to tap out, you were working. kugo would be in bed first after getting home, assuring you ate dinner, and getting ready for bed. you'd normally go to bed about half an hour after him and he'd be able to soothe you to sleep.

they weren't healthy hours, but he was glad you weren't fighting the sleep too much.

one night, though, you threw up a big middle finger to your body's needs. your boss had added more to your workload. you were far too close to a promotion (MY DUMBASS WROTE "upgrade" FIRST DJDNEKE) to stop now. you took it on, promising you'd knock out at least half before the next day.

you woke up, made coffee, helped kugo prepare his lunch, and then started on your work. he wasn't even out the door when you were in your first virtual meeting of the day which started ramping up his concern.

you went through several meetings, moving around the house at times to try and stay as comfortable as possible so you could get your work done effeciently.

you'd forgotten to eat, though, running on coffee and pure will. and fear of losing your job. your partner got home at around 10pm, walking up to where you were taking your seat at the breakfast bar in your kitchen. he made sure you knew he was there before hugging you from behind.

"darling?" he looked at your computer screen. "still working, dear?"

"mmhm..." you leaned back into his chest, but didn't pause your reading. "i ordered in ikayaki." you quickly gestured to the paper bag on the table. "it shouldn't be cold yet, it came in ten minutes ago."

he toom notice of the lack of utensils out and dishes in the sink. "have you eaten yet?"

"later."

"darling..." he let out a gentle sigh and pulled away. he didn't try moving you away from your work, instead opting to prepare your plate and setting it next to your laptop. "i understand how important today's work is in particular, but your health should always be your primary concern. i'll eat with you, too." he sat next to you without invading your space, not expecting a reply and not at all bothered when those expectations were met. he was happy when you ate some of your dinner, but found himself lost in worry again when he'd finished and you seemed to forget your own was there in the first place. "i'll be right back." he stood and went to get ready for bed.

after his shower and usual night routine, he went back to you to see thst you'd completely abandoned dinner and returned to your coffee. "isn't it a bit late for coffee?"

"almost done. couple more documents." he just hummed in understanding before taking his place on the couch a few feet away. something just didn't feel right. you were far less respondent than usual, and you were typing a lot faster. you were anxiously focused on the work at hand.

also, turns out "couple more" meant an entire large file's worth. kugo himself had started drifting off when he noticed you taking a break. he stood when he realized it was too the medicine cabinet.

"sweetheart?"

"headache," you whispered, more to yourself. the lights just seemed brighter, and your laptop looked kinda blurry. your head was started to pulse painfully.

"you've had a lot of caffeine." he didn't have to see every cup you put down to know. "and im assuming you haven't had a proper meal today. that paired with hardly any amount of break time is a recipe for extreme discomfort." he helped you read the pain medication and got out a safe dose for your headache. he grabbed a waterbottle, too, and handed it to you. "you can finish dinner in bed."

"kugo." you took the medication and water. "i need to finish this file."

"you need to rest. you've been pushing yourself extremely hard these past few months and your body can't handle so much stress. please." he let you take the pills before touching his nose to your head. "i don't go in to the agency tomorrow. i can help you catch up in the morning, and then we can go to lunch together, hm?" it's been quite a while since you two'd been on a date.

you toom a while and considered your options. you were about to decline, but then another wave of violent pulsing hit. you sighed out shakily and closed your eyes to block out the agitating kitchen lights. "yeah um... can-can you save my document before turning the laptop off, please?"

he agreed and did so. he also picked you up while you were on your way to the bedroom. you didn't jump or push. this wasn't uncommon for you two, and neither was his pokite question of whether or not he had permission to help you get dressed into your pajamas. once you were ready for bed, he even tucked you in before making sure the home's security system was set.

once everything was ready, he went back to the bed and climbed in with you. the bed dipped significantly which you took as your sign to move to basically lay on top of him he loved it when you did that, though.

"feeling better, dear?" he ran a hand up and down your back to try and ease your obvious nerves.

"mh... my head..."

it was a long night. with the way your head was hurting, it took hours and hours for you to be able to rest at all. in the morning, though, he allowed you to sleep in, even joining you after his ten minutes of being awake.

this became something of a ritual, though he tried to catch things before they got to the point where you were in pain.

he would come home, make sure you ate and drank water, got some rest, and would do anything to help you relax. sometimes he'd hold you on the couch on his lap, other times he'd hold you in bed. hell, one time you fell asleep in the bath while he gave you a glorious scalp massage. of course you returned the sentiment, making sure he got as much rest as possible in the morning, making him breakfast, and calling into his job at times to check up on him.

yes, you two were workaholics. but you two would work through it together.

or

rest.

or

wait no

wait-

[pocketramblr]

ah ha social media fic?

Anonymous asked:

Agh, I just saw KRP2 and I’m craving aus of it! Do you know any hero krp fics, or just any hero fics about getting adopted? thanks in advance

ChanglingCrown:

fic finders, foregather!

Featherweatherluck123:

Oh, if you want hero adoption fics, All Might is number one (pun intended lol)

There’s two BNFs who do it, SmallMight1541 and FireIs4Suckers on Ao5! SmallMight does a lot of worldbuilding and OCs and a lot of ‘everyman’ adoptees, but doesn’t technically do any reader adoption. (it’s totally easy to pretend tho lol). Fire4 does a few, though a lot are oc adoptions. He also uses more real hero characters.

My favorites are Scalpel Precision by SmallMight and Echoing House by Fire4!

Rosewater-sings:

oh come on, those are the biggest writers, there’s no way anon didn’t already know and read them. But if you want to promote some less popular but even better writers, there’s “The Dragon Princess of Japan” by DostThouEven-Hero and “Tending the garden of the heart” by RWSongstress

Speaker-Of-The-House-If-By-House-You-Mean-Tags:

hey changling what the heck is going on in the notes of this one???

[image description: a reply from @herecomethecannons-boom saying “ugh at least tag your stupid self promo so we don’t have to see you comparing yourself to the two best fic writers out there”]

[image description: a reblog from @jazzminetea saying “ok but @changlingcrown which is your favorite?????]

[image description: a reply from @shieldsupporterseven saying “7/?- and you’re being the instigator here, considering I’m a minor and you’re the one saying fireis4suckers isn’t a mega basher, which he is, I bet he’s a villain with all the hateboners he has for everyone but all might-“]

[image description: a reply from @maybemagnetohadapoint saying “’its just not realistic”??? girl its rpf I think we’re past that.”]

[image description: a reblog from @rocksolidreader saying “wow boom I just asked for a rec and you rated the ENTIRE catolog of BOTH authors that’s incredible I owe you my life and my lack of sleep]

[image description: a reply from @herecomethecannons-boom saying “don’t call me boom”]

[image description: a reply from @maximumdeviouslickz saying “I can’t believe you’d run a fic find for this one, I thought you were a great blog and writer but you’re supporting pedos so I hope you die in a fire.]

ChanglingCrown:

speaker, beloved, I don’t even know. I turned notifications off from this post last night and I’m about to delete it honestly. Im not even in the fandom I just get asks :///

FireIsForSuckers:

sorry its because @/TrueHeroWash stalks my tag and sent the post to like a million people to drag in discourse. I’d block them

ChanglingCrown:

thank u for the heads up but now that u’ve reblogged it I have to delete it the notes are insufferable

FireIsForSuckers:

understandable have a nice day

Featherweatherluck:

WAIT FIREIS4SUCKERS HAS A TUMBLR???

Speaker-Of-The-House-If-By-House-You-Mean-Tags:

[image description: ‘this post has everything’ meme.jpg]

#i am SO sorry bestie this has been a lot #honestly I don’t know how you’re strong enough to keep up the fic finds #long post