#this was so nice to wake up to /gen

[diagonal-queen]

Hey there pookie qweeny lomll

Hru todayy???

Please know that even tho im not online much i still love and care abt u also

smileee

*looks at camera*

*le gasp*

So beautiful so elegant so MAGNIFICENT just looking like a WOW!

(Yes ik this is cheesy af but hey cheese is great and so are you🥴)

I have so much to tell u abt my weekend!!

See u soon!

-jaya~

HIIIII ALBIE MY PRECIOUS WIFEY QUEEN OF MY HEART

i am alright. tired from work and my feet hurt :((( aaaaa but otherwise okay. i got to sleep in though that was nice

and ily2 🥺🥺 i miss you i always wanna dm you but im always worried that i'll be annoying you T-T

i dont know who this gentleman is who just took my picture but he looks very friendly is he one of the formula 1 people? i assume he is he looks very friendly. and oh stop you you'll make me blush (,,> ᴗ <,,) you are so sweet jaya and I agree cheese is WONDERFUL especially Swiss I love Swiss cheese

tell me about your weekend immediately i demand it 🔫🔫🔫🔫

[kacievvbbbb]

Something about all the JJK endings beings snippets of a slice of life, of the characters just living and enjoying their time with each other doing regular teenage things. Just them living in a world where for a moment nothing terrible has happened yet and they can just be kids. It's just so.......god

Why don't you just kill me? It'd be easier.

JJK endings are liminal spaces the opening can change to reflect the terror, we can watch the most devastating moments of their lives unfurl on screen but the ending will always play and those kids there will go about their lives untouched by all the tragedy.

[munamania]

i hate when the response abt making up assignments or whatever is like sorry but we can’t treat you like a special little princess who’s better than everyone like first of all ok well you’re wrong and second of all i’m just um depressed

[goxjo]

♥︎ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 ♥︎

⟢ ┈ ﹒꒰ the morning after your first time with him, he’s not quite finished with you FT. gojo, nanami, geto, naoya, toji x fem! reader ꒱

AUTHOR’S NOTE. yeah, this could end up being very sweet or very horny. either way, please mind the warnings uwu. also, gojo’s is longer than the rest just bc <3

CONTENT. explicit smut, some sprinkles of fluff, eepy jjk men. ♡ gojo ♡ pet name: baby, princess, cuddling, early morning banter, frottage, v! fingering. ♡ nanami ♡ food cw, he wears a cute lil apron and you show up wearing only his shirt, v! fingering. ♡ geto ♡ pet name: angel, morning wood, early morning stretch, daddy kink. ♡ naoya ♡ pet name: kitten, consensual somnophilia, cunnilingus, kinda rough, squirting in his mouth sorry not sorry <3 ♡ toji ♡ pet name: sweetheart, consensual somnophilia, waking him up by giving head, 69.

LINKS. GEN. MASTERLIST ┆ JJK MASTERLIST

♥︎ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 ♥︎

ੈ♡‧₊˚ GOJO SATORU

“Satoru, can I tell you something?” You lightly trace your finger down his face. The tips of his eyelashes feel ridiculously soft to the touch, not to mention his glossy lips- ones that have explored your own and your body so thoroughly just a few hours ago, you’ve memorized its shape at this point. His mouth slightly opens when you graze his bottom lip with your thumb. Through his pearly white teeth, warm breath fans the tip of your finger as his chest rises and falls in sync with his light snoring.

“Hm?” For the first time, you’re hit with his raspy morning voice - one you can definitely find yourself getting used to. He catches your hand, peppering lazy, half-asleep kisses at the back of it. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Just- I’m insanely attracted to you, that’s all,” you whisper and his eyes light up at the sudden confession. You haven’t been together long so you saying something like this out of the blue is more than enough to take him aback. Next thing you know, big strong arms wrap around you, piling your weight on top of him.

“This feels nice,” he breathes, sleep finding its way back to his eyes, and you can feel his breaths slow down as he drifts off again.

Flick. “Hey, wake up. Need to hear that voice again.” You lightly flick a finger to his forehead and his eyes flutter open for a few seconds. But that wasn’t enough to fully wake him.

“Can’t. You’re so warm. So soft,” he mutters, tightening his grip around you. He shifts a little, trying to nestle the back of his head into his pillow as he shuts his eyes. “Could stay like this all day long.”

You lean closer to his face, studying his sleeping profile. How could anyone be this perfect? Most people wake up with bed heads, dried up drool on their chin, troll-like attitude, and crusty eyes. Not Gojo Satoru. He’s an angel. He wakes up in the morning looking as if he had a 30-minute head start to his daily skincare routine. As if he even needs one.

“Sooo soft,” he mutters once more, squeezing your sides.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news you big pervert but you have to get ready for class.”

“Wrong!” He jolts awake. “That’s not something someone ‘insanely attracted’ to me would say.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I’m insanely attracted to you as well, and I say ‘5 more minutes’. Actually, make that an hour.”

You try to brush off his comment, pretending as if heat didn’t just rush to your cheeks at what you’d call a poor attempt at banter. A lie, because of course he’s an expert. “Come on you big baby. Wake up.”

“45 minutes, baby.” A big hand reaches underneath your shirt, soothing your bare back.

“Think you’re being slick, huh?”

“Mmm, shut up and come closer.”

“15 minutes?” you suggest, legs straddling his sides, pussy grinding on his half-hard cock as you draw hearts on his jaw, his hands finding their way to your bare ass.

“Hmm, 30.” He groans and you feel his cock twitch underneath, his hands grabbing the fat of your ass.

“You’re a bad negotiator- mmf.” You purr when he spreads your ass, walls clenching at the slight stretch.

“The worst. So, 30? Actually no. 30 is a done deal if you throw in a little kiss.”

“Deal—”

“On second thought…” his fingers slide down your folds, your mouth pops into an ‘o’ and you know for sure you’re done for the second he slides two digits into your slippery hole. “How ‘bout we make it 30 minutes after round 2?”

You’re definitely going to have to stay in all morning.

ੈ♡‧₊˚ NANAMI KENTO

A wave of confusion hits you when you’re awoken by the sound of something that dropped in a pan, aroma of something frying filling the room. Your eyes dart to the door slightly left open and you’re suddenly aware of the empty space beside you.

You try to look for the clothes you discarded last night but they’re nowhere to be found. So of course, you go for the next best thing.

Coming into the kitchen, you’re met with your partner’s broad and bare back, and your eyes immediately dart to the white lace-trimmed ribbon tied around his waist.

Clad only in pajama pants and that frilly little apron you gifted him as a joke, one that has a pretty pink ‘kiss the chef’ embroidered text at the front, Nanami is way too preoccupied with preparing breakfast for two.

You whistle in a way that’s too flirty for his comfort. Nanami looks over his shoulder, eyes trailing your form up and down, staring way too long at where his signature blue button-down ends just slightly above your upper thighs.

“Careful, your hashes are about to burn.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, completely turning off the heat as he makes his way towards you.

“You’re not gonna finish that? Aren’t you going to—” he doesn’t let you finish when he captures your mouth, pulling you into a deep kiss. His hands reach underneath the hems of your (his) shirt, finding your slick folds before pumping you silly with two of his fingers.

“Nope, I’m suddenly craving something else. Sit on the counter, now.”

ੈ♡‧₊˚ GETO SUGURU

You’re woken up by the sound of an alarm. Looking at the clock, it reads ‘7:00 am’ and you’re surprised to find a heavy arm around your waist and something hard pressed up against your ass.

You shift to turn off his alarm, to which Geto’s eyebrows furrow, protesting over your sudden escape from his hold. “Come back here,” he groans, voice a tad deeper than his usual key, swiftly pulling you close to his bare chest.

“You sound so sexy,” you whisper, planting lazy kisses on his nose and on his lips, his erection leaking something warm on your stomach.

“Really? You sounded sexier last night. Need to hear you screaming my name again, angel.” He reaches down, knuckles sliding across your slit as you feel his fist pumping his cock at the same time. For the first time, you’re oriented with what mornings with Geto are like.

The head of his cock runs through your slick folds before finding your hole. You purr at the friction as he enters you, giving a whole new meaning to ‘early morning stretches.’

“Ohh, ohh~” you hum. Your core grows heavy with need, forcing you to try to bounce on his cock, clit grinding against his abdomen as you hold onto his bicep.

“So impatient.” Geto chuckles at your eagerness. “Want daddy to pay attention to your clit?”

“Daddy, daddy, n-need you to move pleasepleaseplease,” you whine. He hooks your leg around his waist, fingers digging into the fat of your ass as he bottoms out.

“Good morning to you too.”

ੈ♡‧₊˚ NAOYA ZEN’IN

You think maybe you’re having one of those dreams. The best kind- one where a warm, wet muscle runs across your puffy slit before sliding in and out of your hole. It feels so hot, so good. Too hot, too good, you feel an orgasm coming-

“Fuuuck,” you cuss breathily, whines choking back a wake up yawn, and your body arches to the sensation in your pussy in place of an early morning stretch. Your eyes blink away the sleep in your eyes. Looking down, you find that black and white head of hair you love so much in between your thighs. And he doesn’t stop devouring your pretty cunt even as you mewl through your high. “Fuck, baby, fuck me!”

It’s real and it’s definitely his tongue sucking on your throbbing clit, definitely his thick fingers relentlessly fucking your wet velvet walls, definitely your pussy squelching from how good his tongue and fingers play with you at this ungodly hour.

“Grrood, mm-you’re-mm-awake,” he talks as if he’s speaking to your pussy, unwilling to part from your sweet little cunt even for a second. He was also like this last night. He told you the taste of your pussy is so damn fucking intoxicating, he could eat you up like a three-course-meal.

“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop!” Your fingers rake through his locks, making him use his teeth on your pussy just because he knows how much you like it when he gets rough. He feels so good going down on you like this, you just can’t help but squeeze his head between your thighs.

“Babybabybaby, fuuuuck- shit!” You feel your pussy twitch two or three times before he gulps, and with his lips still glued to your pussy, you could feel him release a deep chuckle at how much you came undone. Worry washes all over you, heat rising to your face when you realize what you’d done.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You taste heavenly kitten, do it again.”

ੈ♡‧₊˚ FUSHIGURO TOJI

Toji wakes up to an all-familiar feeling around his cock, something that wasn’t uncommon before he had you but now that it is you and your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, one arm propped on his thigh for dear life-

“God, I fucking love you.”

He absolutely adores the sight of your head in the morning bobbing up and down his hard length, ass perked, other hand struggling to play with your cunt.

“C’mere and turn around sweetheart. Show me that pretty pussy of yours.”

Ass still perked, only now it’s dangerously close to his face. He spreads your folds with his thumbs, stretching your juicy, clenching entrance and huffing out hot air before he drags out his tongue to lick stripes on your cunt.

“Rrmfh~” Your mewls are muffled as you’re gagged with the head of his cock. The feeling of his tongue on your pussy tickles something in you that makes you suck on his cock, releasing a pop when your mouth leaves his length.

“Ohh~ T-toji baby-fuck-let’s cum together.”

“So fucking needy.” Toji kisses your clit a couple times before making out with your lips. He alternates between nipping the sensitive bud with his teeth and flicking it with his tongue, driving you insane while your own mouth is stuffed full of his cock.

“I rarely have breakfast, but this is a nice little treat.”

[villruu]

I love writing cain & abel 2.0 (my ocs for marble hornets) so much and how different they are.

Older sister who has had the operator sickness since she was practically born, who accidentally spreads the sickness to her younger sibling the one (1) time she has a relapse, whose life is slowly getting worse and worse and decided to kill their sibling to spare them and then nothing happens, because the sibling is somehow, back, and nothing changed, and she doesn't want to murder her sibling, but she will if it's to spare her (and maybe she blames them, in part, bc if only they had been stronger, if only they had been better, she wouldn't be like this)

And then you have the younger sibling who's main hobbies is getting high and collecting bugs and who admires the fuck out of their older sister, bc she's always nice to them.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny was sitting in the back, his backpack obnoxiously taking up the seat next to him, when the door to the lecture hall creaked open near silently.

“What are you in here for?” Danny asked the guy who crept into class. He sympathetically took his backpack off the Seat of Shame and allowed the guy to sit down. Funnily enough, they had the same hair and eye color.

“Gen Ed. Undecided. You?” The guy grunted quietly back.

“Environmental studies. I’m Danny.”

“Tim.”

With the implicit understanding of two people in a required class they could not give less than two fucks about, Tim and Danny tuned back into the lecture. When the class was assigned group work, Danny looked over to see Tim softly snoring, head slammed down on the table.

“Tim. Wake up, dude.” Danny poked his shoulder.

“Huh? Class over?”

“Nah, we got group work. Discussion board.”

“Oh shit, thanks for waking me up. Wanna team up?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. We should aim to post it in the middle so the professor doesn’t read our answers to the class.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Any idea what we’re talking about?”

“Kind of?”

“Good enough for me.”

——

Tim Drake kept seeing Danny Fenton around on campus.

“Danny! Dude, what are you doing?”

Danny turned, gloved hands full of crumpled trash. “Picking up after the student population, apparently.”

“Didn’t think environmental studies was that serious.”

“Global warming is very serious, you jerk,” Danny smirked at him, crossing the grass to put the trash into the trash can. “Reduce, reuse, oil shouldn’t be spilled in water and all that.”

“Basic stuff,” Tim grinned. Nice, he basically had a friend past Bernard now!

They were friends, right?

“And yet humanity fails to comprehend it. Incredible. Incredibly stupid that is.”

“They get it. Major corporations just don’t care.”

Danny sighed. “True that. You on your way to your next class?” He took off his biodegradable gloves off (nitrile and nylon, baby!) and chucked them into the trash.

“I’ve got free time, actually. Prof cancelled for his daughter’s surgery.”

“Oh, shit, that’s rough! You wanna go downtown and join the strike?”

“A strike? What for?” Even as he asked, Tim hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, ready to go. They fell into step as the two left campus.

“Apparently, Quillan Pharma was doing some shady shit at their manufacturing plants. I think it’s like killing kids, and pouring toxins into the ground.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. Oh! Poison Ivy’s gonna be there!”

Tim blinked. He casted a sideways look at Danny. Sure he’s been here long enough to know… but it couldn’t hurt to check. “You know she’s an eco-terrorist, right?”

“Okay, but like… people suck sometimes. And all she’s asking for is like don’t kill the planet. And she doesn’t do that whole mind control thing too much anymore! The Sirens are so cool. Plus, one of my best friends at home might actually kill me if I don’t try to get her autograph. Poison Ivy is like, Sam’s personal hero.”

Tim snickered. “Yeah, okay. Mind if one of my friends join? His name’s Bernard.”

“The more the merrier,” Danny nodded. “Ooo! Hot chocolate. Want some?”

Danny bought three drinks as Tim trailed behind, texting Bernard.

“He said yes.”

“Cool! We should meet up somewhere before the drinks get cold.”

Well, Danny got the autograph. Tim got a new friend, and Bernard got a drink from his crush.

——

“Oh, you’re the glowing dude that Batman always talks about!”

Danny blinked, eyes scanning the wing-like cape and the yellow emblem on the hero’s suit. Danny was indeed glowing, stars and nebulas freckling across neon green skin, and glowing hair the color of a white dwarf star, tinged with the blue from his ice core.

“I… have absolutely no idea who you are,” Danny lied, like a liar. He’s found a surprising niche of entertainment in messing with the local vigilantes and he’ll be damned if he missed this opportunity.

He heard a snicker from the comm lines as Red Robin visibly brushes it off.

“I’m Red Robin. Why are you picking up trash?”

“Picking up after you humans, apparently.”

The both of them blink, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. A moment of awkward silence passed before they both shook it off.

“Are you here to help? No offense, but the track record for you people is terrible.” Danny strode over and grabbed a bag. He opened it, and shook it at Red Robin’s face. “See? Batarangs, these odd bird looking ones, the R’s. Seriously, pick up after yourselves!”

“Oh, woah, can we have these back?”

Danny yanked the bag back before Red Robin could get close. “Pay me. These were incredibly tedious to pick up. Especially the batarangs. I mean, I even found a whole bunch of old rusted ones in the middle of the bay. What did you do, dump an entire bag in there from the air?”

Red Robin sighed and took out a wad of cash, with tracking fluid all over it. Danny grimaced, smelling the odd scent on the money. “That’s not real cash. It smells off. Are you trying to give me counterfeits because you’re broke?”

Red Robin gaped, oddly offended. “No! They’re real!”

“Doesn’t smell like it. It’s stinkier than the trash. Go get the one with the money, the litterer. Tell him I’ll be back the next full moon. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Danny grumbled, disappearing on the spot to watch Red Robin flounder with the stack of cash and the piles of dead bodies on the shore.

“What the fuck even is my life these days?” Red Robin wondered out loud, stuffing the cash back into his pocket. He looked over the plastic wrapped bodies and slumped, sighing.

Oddly enough, Danny felt a sense of sympathy. Well, he’s not getting paid for sympathy. He’s not getting paid at all tonight, actually. Danny flew off, plunging once more into the depths of the significantly cleaner waters, and used his ice to scoop out oil stains.

Danny glanced around and sighed. He had a lot of work to do.

——

“So you’re saying he’s like a werewolf mermaid fae child immortal god thing, right?”

Bruce grunted.

“B, what the hell are you smoking these days? You know drugs are bad, right? Do we need Superman to give you that PSA?” Jason snickered.

Tim, massaging his arms from having to haul an ungodly amount of dead bodies, grunted. He’s so similar to Bruce that it gave the people currently in the cave hives.

“He said full moon. I don’t think we can track him with regular stuff. The bugs kept shorting out.”

“Oh boy,” Dick sighed. “Don’t fall off the spiral cliff, Tim. You’ve got midterms to think about so no stalking the guy.”

“Yet,” Tim shot back, changing out of his suit.

Bruce grunted, setting aside a huge stack of cash.

[chosolala]

geto headcanons ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

my bad for edging u guys with false promises of content 😭 please accept my apology in the form of cute and silly geto headcanons :]

he’s really sentimental (w some ppl, apparently not his parents) but secretive about it, like he probably has a box hidden deep under his bed of cards, gifts and notes given to him over the years

feeds stray animals behind peoples back

he’s in touch with his feminine side, like he has an in-depth skincare and shower routine, you will NOT catch him lacking

if you’re in a relationship with him, his go to when he messes up is leaving flowers and a note at your door

the type of guy to listen to you talk shit but never say anything mean himself

he’s probably a really good cook, mama geto does not play in the kitchen.

remembers little things people tell him

^^ because of this he gives the most meaningful gifts

doesn’t really like people touching his hair but still lets you and his girls do silly hair styles on him

probably really uncomfortable with people touching him, he and gojo probably had fights because gojo kept slapping getos butt despite geto telling him not to

the type of guy to have piercings that aren’t super noticeable right away (same with tattoos)

i feel like he’d be terrible at drawing and he thinks it’s no big deal until everyone wants to play pictionary (everyone has pictures of his art saved in their phones for blackmail purposes)

probably plays guitar in his free time

i feel like he’d like nu metal music but also oldies like marvin gaye or something

trivia goat, he knows so much about random things

also i feel like he’d love watching movies in his free time, he seems like a horror movie kinda guy

i feel like he’d have a cat that he literallt treats like his kid

play video games with gojo and gen gets so angry bc he gets his ass beat everytime without fail

i know he’d get to cheating after a certain point too, he’d probably cover gojos eyes or ‘accidentally’ unplug gojos controller

unintentionally a backseat driver

did matching stick and poke tattoos for him gojo and shoko in highschool

he may have lost every fight he’s been in but he will NOT lose and argument, when they go low, geto goes lowER

i feel like he’s unaware of his looks, like sometimes he gets free drinks and compliments but assumes people are just being nice or he’s just lucky, not that he’s actually super handsome (hello sailor ;)

pin and sticker collector, but he doesn’t do anything with them like he just has them

really good at first person shooter games (but gojo refuses to play those with him)

i feel like he’d read books catered to a female audience and he’d be kind of embarrassed about it, like what do u know about girl interrupted 🤨

his closet is like 80% band tees

takes games so seriously, like he’s very competitive especially w gojo

when he’s feeling indecisive about something he literally asks an 8ball

.5 iphone picture victim, his girls constantly sneak in .5 pics of him

always wakes up early to make a good breakfast

literally gives the warmest hugs ever, his hugs could stop a person from crying

monster drink addiction

takes most of his skin/hair care from his girls, probably online shops with them too

hates shopping in person like in malls so whenever the girls want to shop he just gives them his card and tells them to keep their phones on

carries medicine on him at all times just in case, he’s prepared

[otto-s-alskling]

John Price X Reader

Fluff. Just. Freaking cotton ball fluff.

Captain John Price was never one to go aggressively court a lady, no no. He's too old fashioned for that Gen Z energy. But he definitely is one for the long game. Always praising you casually with "Nice job" and "Well done" and "Couldn't have done it without ya." Which slowly evolved to "That's great, sweetheart" to more questionable ones like "Nice one, Lovie." It lowkey made you wonder how many endearments can one man use before he uses "that phrase."

It was hard to know when really. It was a slow night at the office and Price was busy with the last of the paperworks. Of course, the little sweetheart that you are, you stayed behind as well and brought him coffee.

"Hi, Cap... Thought you'd want a bit of coffee for a lil pick-me-up?"

Price smiled at the sweet gesture, immediately putting out the cigar that he had and waving away the smoke that linger.

"Thanks, Lovie. Can you put it here?"

You nodded and approached his desk, putting the cup of coffee (black with just a bare hint of sugar to cut the full bitterness) when he gestured for you to come closer a bit. I complied, glancing at the files that he needed a bit of help with, some french files that needed translation. Being the linguistics expert, you immediately moved to his side.

You were looking down on the papers to try to read it when his hand landed on your waist, making you sit on the armrest of his chair as you translate the papers for him. That's how you worked that night, sitting on the armrest with his arm around your waist on the last one hour you two are there, his thumb drawing circles on your waist as you diligently translate the papers on his tablet there.

This became a routine until one night he just straight up pulled you into his lap when he was extremely tired, using your back and shoulder as his pillow and his arms are wrapped around your waist tightly. You let the poor Captain be, your heart unable to say no, not when he asked oh so nicely to use you as a pillow for a bit. So he snoozed as you sat on his lap, trying not to think too much of it as you worked on the tablet. You did suggest him sleeping in the couch on his office but he didn't want that because that meant not being close to you. He doubted that you'd want to let him cuddle you at that stage anyway, so he was fine with this.

Thus the new addition to your routine. He'd get you on his lap at wee hours at night, both of you working, sometimes him napping, and that's basically it... For now anyways. It got a few eyebrows raised, especially to Gaz who's curious on how slow can a slow burn be. And you never get up from his lap either unless he had to actively talk with the other person on the room. You just stay on his lap, perched like a pretty little cat as you type and whoever was delivering some paperwork to Price would see it and you just... Don't seem to care, especially when Price tightens his hold whenever anyone arrive.

Then came a time when YOU were the one exhausted and against better judgement, fell asleep on his lap, curled up on him upon his insistence. This one really takes the cake because some Taskforce members, Gaz, Soap and Ghost had to be there for a small discussion and had to awkwardly talk in hushed voices because Price refused to wake you up and maybe convince you to go to bed. No, no, that would mean you'd be far away from him and he wants you to get used to being with him all the time. Gaz fought a snicker halfway into the discussion when you nuzzled closer to Price and he blushed. The man himself blushed and you had no clue it was happening.

Lowkey, it was entertaining and kind of weird to see, the three members choosing to face each other instead so they wouldn't have to get caught up in trying to stare at you and him and wonder if you're even aware of the Captain's feelings or if you're just going with the flow with him.

Things did suddenly change when the team got back from a hard mission and Price immediately looked for you after getting rid of his gear. He found you in his office, doing some filing. After locking the door, he just pulled you into his arms and laid down on the couch with you with a soft gruff "Come here please". You looked at him as he held onto you, his head on your chest, before slowly hugging him back, running your fingers through his hair as his ragged breaths changed slowly and he relaxed, the tension leaving him as you gently played with his hair.

It felt intimate and reassuring to him, and he just stayed there, using you as a pillow as he tried to forget and let go whatever it was that happened on the field. For the first time, you two actually cuddled and fell asleep together, the exhaustion claiming Price fast while you slowly dozed off after watching him sleep for some time.

After a few hours, he stirred awake. Price knew that this is wrong. That he is your superior and that he shouldn't even be looking at you like this but how can he not when you looked so sweet sleeping underneath him? He couldn't help but smile, couldn't help but plant a soft kiss on your cheek before going back to sleep again and hope you wouldn't mind the surprisingly high amount of comfort that he's getting just from holding you close like this.

This man has me on a chokehold and I've watched too many shows and movies with him in it. #shameless

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe Rating: Gen Words: 2.8K~ Summary: Not too long after making peace with Homeworld and sparking the start of Era 3, Steven wakes up one morning to discover some... notable changes about himself.

AKA: The one where Steven finally hits his growth-spurt. All at once. Because of course the half-Gem kid could never experience such a human thing like puberty in a "normal" way.

[Part 1 of 2]

Just a few seconds later, knuckles rap against the door in answer to his perturbed cry. 

“Yo Steve-o, that you in there?” Amethyst calls. 

“Y-yeah?” he stammers. His brows threading inwards, he delicately runs his fingers over the ridge upon his throat, very much thrown off by the distinctly lower tenor of the sound coming from his own mouth. He swallows hard, pushing himself to speak again. Come on Steven, he berates himself, think of something lighthearted. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. No need to completely freak out over this yet. “Who else would I be? It’s not like the whole town uses this bathroom…”

“I mean, I do sometimes. For fun.”

“Okay, fair point, but—”

“Dude, what’s wrong with your voice? Are you like, sick or somethin’?“

“No, it’s just—” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, blocking out all the nebulous, spinning distractions of his mind and the world beyond. Deep breath. It’s okay. Tons of things about his form may be entirely different right now, but like… he seems fine. Right?? Nothing about his body feels tangibly wrong like it did when he willfully stretched himself out on his 14th birthday, or when he changed all his fingers into cats, or when he lost all control of his aging and morphed into an anciently old man and almost died, it’s just… 

New.

New and wholly unfamiliar.

So what now? How can he bravely move forward with all this? What does he need to know? 

“Have, uh… have you ever shapeshifted by accident in your sleep?”

“Not that I‘m aware of,” she says, and he can practically hear the shrug in her tone. “Shapeshifting is a conscious thing you do. It’s a choice, y’know? It doesn’t just happen.”

A good long moment passes as he drinks this information in. He runs his hand through the short curls at the back of his neck as he stands there in the pair of too-small banana yellow pajamas he fit in just fine last night, musing.

“Huh… I guess that makes things pretty simple, then.”

“What d’ya’—”

“Amethyst, I think I’m finally older,” he says, still absolutely mystified by this prospect as he gawks at himself in the mirror. 

She gives a fond laugh. “Ch’a, right? You get older everyday, bud. Wild.”

“No, I mean I’m actually, physically older! Look!”

Steven whirls around and swings the bathroom door wide open to show her. Amethyst’s jaw drops.

“Whoa—! Dude!”

Chuckling nervously, he steps a few feet out, wriggling his bare toes against the wood floor. “I know, right?”

“What the heck, you weren’t kidding!” Before he can even move to say anything else, she spins on her heels and cups her mouth with her hands, hollering towards the temple door. “HEY, PEARL! GARNET! You gotta get out here and see this!”

His brows shoot towards his hairline, his heart hammering in his chest all the while at the thought of all the dumb show-and-tell he’s gonna have to deal with now. “Aww, come on, did you really have to—”

“Amethyst!” Pearl cries, scrambling through the still opening gap in the doorway with Garnet striding mere steps behind. She summons her spear from her gem and swings it to fighting stance with an artful flourish. “What happened? Where’s the threat? What do you need us for??”

Steven darts towards them, hands held up in a placating plea.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! There’s no danger! We’re fine. I just—”

“Oh, my stars—!” she gasps, allowing her spear to dissipate in a glittery flicker of light. “You’ve grown!”

“Nice look, Steven,” Garnet nods, a supportive smile gracing her lips.

“And you’re sure this is real this time? You’re not—?”

“No, no, I’m not stretching myself out, I promise. I just woke up like this.”

“B-but—” Pearl taps her fingers against her chin, appearing thoroughly puzzled— “I thought humans were supposed to age gradually, not all at once.”

Steven’s shoulders slump. “Well… that’s what I assumed too, but—”

“Come, sit with me,” Garnet says, walking around the warp pad to enter the living room. She sets herself down on the couch, patting the cushion in open invitation.

With a heavy, far too weary for his age sigh, Steven shoves his hands in the pockets of his too-small banana pajamas and plods his way over. The rest of the Gems follow suit. He settles himself right next to Garnet, with Pearl perched opposite to her and Amethyst happily lounging on the floor, leaning on the coffee table with her elbows. 

“Steven’s aging hasn’t aligned with the norms of humanity for a very long time,” she observes, a glint of morning sun that’s beaming through the window catching on the edge on the edge of her star shaped visor. Then, turning to him: “I’m curious why you think this is.”

He hums, considering all the chaotic happenings of the past few years. Despite the rare query she poses, he gets the sense that… in her vast wisdom… she already knows the answer. Or at least, a small sum of it. It should be noted that her future vision— as far-reaching as it otherwise is with the vast possibilities of existence— can’t ever touch any knowledge that she won’t be conscious for or present to receive, let alone retroactively scry into the past.

(And honestly? Thank goodness for that.)

“I’m not sure,” he says, a half-lie.

He can think of one reason he might’ve started aging again. Though, it’s not something he’s ready to talk to the Gems about yet. It’s… far too delicate a topic to risk bringing up so soon after the start of peaceful Era 3. But after spending a whole childhood being constantly compared to and mistaken as various versions of his mom… let’s just say, having his gem torn from his body and getting to see it reform into a version of himself (and not her) was simultaneously the worst and the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him. While undeniably traumatic, this experience served as the ultimate proof that he doesn’t have to waste another second of his existence chewing away at some burgeoning identity crisis, that he can live his life however he wants. As Steven. Not as Rose, or Pink Diamond, just… Steven.

He’s not exactly sure how all this mental weirdness translates into him staying stuck looking like a little kid for like… six or so years, but after he returned home from his latest escapade on Homeworld, he could sense that— despite all the messed up stuff he and Connie went through— his spirit was lighter, somehow.

So maybe, he thinks, he simply had to peel away at all the damaged layers of his identity to ready himself to move on to the next stage of his life. Maybe he had to stare death in the eye and pass through the heart of the storm in spite of all these hardships before he could piece the foundational truths of his story back together and learn to finally live again.

To start shifting his hopeful gaze towards the dawn of their bright, sunny future…

“I mean, I always kinda thought he stopped aging because we never did,” Amethyst says then, laying her cheek on the table. “Like, it happened around the time you moved in with us, yeah?”

He purses his lips, scanning his memory. “Uh… I think so? It might have been a year before. Two, even. But I was definitely hanging out with y’all a lot by then.”

She leans over and playfully slugs him in the arm.

“See, there you go! You always wanted to be just like us when you were a kid, so much that you even wore that same ol’ star shirt every day to match ours, ha! You must’ve wanted to be a Gem so badly that you subconsciously stopped becoming older at all.”

“That’s actually a pretty solid theory, Amethyst,” Pearl chimes in. “Good thinking!”

“We have seen you shift your form in response to your perception of others around you,” Garnet says with a nod. “This has caused you to temporarily age and shapeshift in the past, but for you to age in a stable way now, your perception of self must have stabilized, too. I’m very happy for you, Steven.”

She tousles his mess of curls with her gold ringed hand, a welcome little offering of affection that he eagerly leans into.

And then, out of nowhere, Amethyst starts cackling.

“Dude,” she blurts out between her peels of laughter, nudging his foot with her elbow, “I just realized— Greg’s gonna totally lose his shit when he sees this…”

Pearl’s expression scrunches inwards with prickly displeasure. “Language!” 

“What, it’s true!”

He waves Amethyst’s comment off. “Pshhh, my dad’s seen way weirder,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Like, did I ever tell y’guys how the cat fingers incident ended?”

“No!” the quartz exclaims with intensive fervor, and leans forward in anticipation. “Gimme the juicy deets, m’man!”

Garnet adjusts her visor then, her features falling into a dutiful line. “Speaking of Greg… story time can wait until later. Steven— if you want to see your father this morning, you need to head over there now… or there’s a good chance he’ll fall back asleep until one and you’ll miss your window.”

Amethyst’s lips fall into a pout as she slumps back against the foot of the couch, her arms crossed. “Awww, phooey. Spoil sport.”

He swallows a grimace as he internalizes Garnet’s prediction. Yeah, that sounds about right. That’s become a bad habit for his old man lately, staying up super late and then sleeping in almost half the day on weekends. Ever since he received that ten million dollar residues check it’s nothing that can hinder his financials anymore, thank goodness, but then again…

“Yeah… I should probably go make sure he wakes up,” he mutters, pushing his tired body off his seat. “I’ll need his help finding new clothes, anyways.”

The second he’s up and moving again, Amethyst darts around him and snatches his spot with such swift and viscous drive that one might believe this ploy were her sole quest and purpose in life. She stretches out against the seat back with a big, dramatic yawn, crossing her arms behind her head as she speaks. 

“It’s too bad you can’t just… I dunno… summon whatever clothes you want out of light, like us. That’s like the biggest bummer of humanity, if you ask me.”

“And when do you ever experiment with your outfit enough to have a strong opinion about this?” Pearl prods, crossing her arms. “It took you almost a decade to fix that asymmetrical shoulder strap.”

“Well, P… I like to think of myself as a Gem who would experiment with my outfit. One day. If I’m ever really, really bored. Consider it an Era 3 aspiration.”

Steven rocks back and forth on his heels, absentmindedly fiddling with the fraying bottom hem of his pajama top.

“Okay, uh… well, I’m gonna dress to leave now, so—”

“Yeah, see ‘ya.”

“Send a text if you need anything!” Pearl says with a casual wave.

“And don’t forget…” Garnet begins, the ellipses in her tone practically visible with the naked eye.

He pauses in his dutiful march to the stairs— (a somewhat unsteady march… as it turns out, shooting up about a foot and a half in height overnight tends to impact one’s sense of balance for the worst, go figure)— turning back to intercept whatever life advice or future vision she’s prepared for him this time. 

She grins, flashing him a quick heart with her hands instead. “We love you!”

~~

Steven trudges across the hot sands to his dad’s car wash sans his favorite flip flops, trying his very darnedest to wipe away the developing grimace on his face all the while. 

A small segment of him felt overjoyed when he first saw his reflection this morning, eager to look his age and finally grow up alongside his human friends. But after struggling to find anything that fits him even halfway right in his wardrobe, his good mood has rapidly spoiled. There’s a decent few reasons for this.

Reason number one: his old sandals are at least two sizes too small. His heels stick out over the end now, and the plastic thong digs into his toes something terrible. He literally can’t wear them without giving himself blisters. Ergo, his bare feet right now. 

Reason number two: none of his jeans sit right around the waist anymore, plus they make him look like he’s waiting for a flood. (Though thankfully, he found a stretchy blue skirt buried in one of his drawers that will do the trick for now.) 

And perhaps worst of all… reason number three: with his newly increased height, every single one of his treasured star shirts have been turned into ill-fitting crop tops, putting his gem on full display. He’s not against the concept of a crop top, but it sure ain’t a look he’s passionate about for everyday wear. It just feels… too exposing. Like, what about winter?? He can’t bear his whole midriff in winter, he’d freeze, and like… get hypothermia, or something. And not only that, but the longer he’s awake this morning the more an inescapable, thrumming ache starts to settle within the deepest core of his body, like even his bones themselves— the stubborn things— dare to object to this abrupt growth spurt.

Just… ugh. What an annoying hassle all these changes bring.  

“Stupid shirt,” he grouses, tugging at the too-tight collar, “stupid sandals, stupid Gem puberty! Why, oh why can’t I ever go through human stuff normally?”

His bare foot catches upon a sizable stone hidden amongst the beach. On any other day he would’ve successfully broken his fall, stumbling forwards a few awkward steps before regaining his balance and continuing on his way. But with his body now so different, and his center of gravity entirely off from what he’s used to, he head plants straight into the ground.

Wow, he thinks, spitting sand out of his mouth and pushing himself back to his feet. How elegant. Truly the shining paragon of coordination and grace.

Thank goodness no one was watching. Next time he’ll just have to remember to float.

He arrives at his dad’s van with no further incident. The rear doors are— following Garnet’s prediction- cracked open. Dad’s awake, at least for now.

“Daaaaaaaad,” he hollers, cupping his hands around his mouth to project. “A really, really weird thing happened, and I kinda need your help!”

A few spare seconds pass, seconds filled with the rustles of shifting blankets, the sound of a book being shut closed, and his dad’s low murmurs. The doors swing wide, though not as wide as Dad’s eyes when they wander around their bright, sunny surroundings and eventually land square on him and his new look.

“Wh— Steven, holy smokes! Look at you!”

With an awkward chuckle, he scratches away at an itch at the nape of his neck. “Heh heh, I know, right?”

“You’re almost as tall as your old man! When did this happen? How did this happen?”

“Some point last night, I guess,” he shrugs. “I just woke up like this. But Dad—” he clings onto his arm with mounting desperation— “I need your help to find some new shirts. Don’t you have like… whole boxes of your old tour merch stashed away somewhere? I don’t wanna have to get rid of my star, I just— I just need a bigger size, or something.”

“Hmmm…” Dad muses, scratching at the scruff of his beard. “Well, maybe, but…”

“But what?”

“But if any of it’s still around, then it’s probably in Amethyst’s room. All of the stuff from the storage unit ended up with her, remember?”

“Oh…” he says, brows furrowed, not quite able to parse this fact within his memory yet. And then… 

Ugh. That’s right.

Two New Years’ ago. The huge mess of crates and mattresses and long forgotten belongings. All that ridiculous Little Butler nonsense. Amethyst’s fight with Dad.

“Oh,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. “Right. Well, then let’s go find it!”

“R- right now?”

“Yeah, why not? I need new clothes, and you could see if there’s any old junk in there you might want to keep!”

With that, he grabs his dad’s hand and yanks him along, spirit filled with renewed purpose and vigor.

“And you’re sure you need my help for this?” Dad asks, lagging a step or two behind him as they march back across the beach together. “The Gems, they… well, they don’t usually want me going into the temple—”

“Oh, Amethyst will be fine,” he says with a wave of his palm. “She never cares when I go in there to check out her trash piles. ‘Sides, I need your help to find the right box! I have no idea what your old band stuff was stashed in.”

His dad flashes a tight smile, the sort he always serves up when he’s nervous, but also too timid to tell him that he’s nervous.

“Well… if you think she’ll allow it…” he relents, and picks up his pace to match his.

~~

[End Part 1... more to be shared later.]

[cherryzlem]

My talk on the TikTok-ification of ‘I have no mouth and i must scream’

I personally have discovered ihnmaims recently and through TikTok but honestly, from what i've seen so far, the Tumblr community is way more welcoming than the TikTok community. I believe the ones i call ‘hardcore fans’ or 'gatekeepers' will try all they can to belittle the people who discovered the book/game through TikTok, like any hardcore fan does for their community when it gets famous on TikTok.

TikTok is very helpful to share media on and i have discovered many fandoms through it. But some people are so against ‘TikTok-ification’ that they can’t stand when people find medias through this platform.

When i see some people (again, mostly solely on TikTok) tell AM fans ‘ermm but you know he SA’d Helen ☝️🤓’ i cant help but think ‘yes ?? And he also committed genocide on humanity, keeps torturing the same 5 people over and over again and im very, VERY sure he did use a lot of not really nice kinds of tortures on them, but you draw the line at SA ??’

Like, AM is a horrible being of course, all of these are horrible actions but if someone, like me, likes AM its not gonna be because they think they’re a good ‘person’ (for lack of a better word), WE KNOW AM is bad, of course we do, HE’S THE BAD GUY OF THE STORY and he’s the kind of bad guy who cannot be redeemed but COME ON, WE KNOW THAT.

I love AM for his writing, for how well thought he is as a character, i do not love him for his actions. And i know some 'new gen fans' will pretend AM is not 'that bad' but you shouldn't just assume every fan who comes from TikTok is going to think like that.

Another thing i’ve seen people hate on are AM’s humanisations/personnifications fanarts when posted on TikTok. I know for a fact that these existed for a long long time on other platforms such as Tumblr but the arguments the haters pull out is that ‘errr AM hates humanity, i doubt he’d want to be human ☝️🤓’ but do you even know WHY he hates humanity ?? Have you read the book ???

The reason AM hates humanity is because he wasn’t able to express the creativity he was given by humans, he didn’t just wake up one day and decided to hate humans ?? If anything, giving AM a more humanized/personified image would be something he would want more than anything. If AM had been able to BE like a human none of the shit he did would have happened.

The only ‘argument’ im willing to listen to is when some people say that the whole point of AM’s character is that he isn’t human. But then again, are you against fun ?? In literally EVERY fandom with non-human characters artists will give them humanized designs, even if just for AU’s (take ‘The stanley parable’ for exemple), it’s not because the story is old and is an horror story that people cannot have fun with it. It’s not because it’s a deep story with meaning that people can’t do what they want with it. That is what creativity is for.

And my final point is addressing the people who hate on AM's simps. My gosh, these people have not seen the dawn of the internet if they think its weird to simp for AM.

People simp for Glados, The Narrator from tsp, horror movies murderers and more, and you're telling me that AM is the worst simping choice you could make ?? Let people have fun, let people have weird taste in fictional crushes. In other words:

Stop being allergic to fun, ffs

[superblysubpar]

<- part nine | series masterlist

epilogue summary: and they lived happily ever after.

the song: In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel

1,326 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / reader is a mom to a daughter and pregnant in this. Small descriptions of morning sickness involved, and some parent guilt of being gone on Steve’s part, but overall, lovely gooey fluff | my blog is 18+

a/n: Idk, simply couldn't stop with these two and this came out, so I threw it in as an epilogue. hope you love it, if it's your thing!

A house, on a street, a Summer morning - the future

  He assumes it’s the thunder that has you standing in the doorway, yawning. Another low rumble of it seems to shake the house, making the already low light in the kitchen flicker. But when he looks up again from his paperwork he’s sorting, and finds you looking at the remaining eggs on his plate with a grimace, he know it’s not the storm that woke you. 

  Quick to throw it into the fridge that’s littered with Polaroid squares. They flutter with the swift press closed so nothing else can cause the grimace on your face to deepen. He opens his arms for you as you drag slippered feet over white tile. 

  “Hi honey,” he whispers into your cheek before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He bends and does the same to your stomach. “Hi baby.”

  Your head falls to his shoulder while his hands rub over your belly, mumbling, “Trouble’s not being nice today, huh?”

  “No,” you whine into his stiff white linen shirt, nose pressing to his neck with a kiss, “So your kid and not mine.”

  A creak of a door down the hallway has him laughing, mumbling under his breath, “Speaking of your kid and not mine.”

  Rushed pads of feet on hardwoods and a quiet call of, “Daddy?” heard before you sigh. 

  “I’m in the kitchen sweetie,” he calls, kissing your cheek as you take his seat and he stands, “So’s mommy.”

  Footie pajama clad legs race down the hallway until a flurry of his hair and your eyes rounds the corner. Crocodile tears falling down cheeks and big pouting lips that catch them. 

  Steve scoops her up, brushing at them, kissing them away, “Hey, hey, hey, what’re these for, huh?”

  She nuzzles into his neck, just like you’d done moments before and you’d like to blame it on the hormones, when there’s tears that threaten to match your daughter’s in your eyes, but you know it’s just because Steve looks at you fondly over her head, palm soothing up and down her back as you watch him with too much love in your eyes. 

  He’d make another baby with you if you weren’t already pregnant. He needs you stop looking at him like that, when he can’t do anything about it. 

He motions with his hand, fingers pinching together as he pretends to frame a shot of you and snap an imaginary picture. 

  Your fingers swipe at your lash line as he mouths 'Sap' and you wave him away, nodding at the crying kid in his arms. 

  Her fingers play with his tie as she hiccups, “Lo-loud.”

  He hums, back resting against the counter where coffee starts it’s timed percolating. He looks at you, wondering if he should cancel it and you take a big breath and smile, so he focuses on Leia. 

  “The storm’s loud and woke you up?” He clarifies.

  She nods, sniffling against his shirt and he agrees, dramatic, “Storm’s can be so noisy. Nosier than mommy’s snoring.”

  You scoff, but she giggles and you narrow your eyes at him when he keeps going. “She snores so loud, it wakes up the neighbors.”

  Leia laughs as you pout. “I do not! Honey, tell him I don’t!”

  She giggles as Steve starts imitating a snore, cartoon like and looking right at you with a big grin. Leia faces you and you put on a show, pouting out your lips and pretending to sniffle so she reaches for you. 

  Steve sighs, walking the few steps to where you sit, letting her climb into your arms. She’s careful as she wraps around you, looking at your stomach with big eyes after your talk about being gentle yesterday. Steve’s hand hovers over her back till he knows you’ve got her. 

  Leia presses her hand to the swell of your belly, eyebrows furrowed together just like her dad’s. “Baby brother scared of storm too?”

  You brush a curl of brown hair behind her ear, kissing her temple. “Think he’s too little to know yet, honey.”

  Steve pours coffee into a thermos and frowns at the two of you. “We don’t know it’s a baby brother yet. It could be a baby sister.”

  Your daughter raises her eyebrows in a way that’s far too familiar and sighs like someone older than she is as she says, “We’ll see.”

  Steve’s lips part in amusement when he looks at your grin but then a loud rumble of thunder cracks overhead and she whines, big eyes blinking more tears when they look at him.

  “Can you hold my hand till over?” She asks him and your heart breaks from the look on his face.

  “I can’t sweetie,” he kisses her forehead, “I gotta go to work today. But you know who’s great at holding hands?”

  Your arms wrap around her tightly and Leia asks, “Mommy?”

  “You got it,” Steve’s fingers tap under her chin. “She does it all the time for me when I get scared too.”

  Leia’s nose scrunches like she finds this to be the funniest thing in the world and giggles like it is. “Daddy’s don’t get scared!”

  He nods. “They do too! I’m scared today and wish you and Mommy could come with me to work. I have to talk in front of a bunch of people and use big brain words and impress them and I’m scared I’m gonna do a bad job.”

  “Maybe,” Leia smiles, excited by her idea, “Maybe if mommy, if we squeeze really tight, you’ll feel it at work.”

  “I think that’s a great idea.” He holds out his hands, waiting till the two of you each grab one and squeeze. Leia’s nose scrunches in concentration and you look at Steve, pretending to snap a photo.

  His thumb brushes yours as Leia giggles and he sighs, dramatically fake swiping nerves from his forehead.

  “Wow, I feel so much better!”

  He looks at the clock and frowns, hating to leave either of you and miss any moments that happen during time he can’t get back. But every day you assure him that he doesn’t miss much, and he makes up for it and then some when he’s home. 

  “Okay, I gotta go,” he really sighs that time, grabbing his briefcase and thermos, “Don’t have too much fun without me?”

  Leia slides from your lap as he bends for a tight hug, kissing her cheek, “Bye sweetie.

  He kisses your stomach, whispering, “Bye baby.”

  “Bye honey,” he presses a slow and soft kiss to your lips that you sigh into and Leia shrieks at.

  “Kiss again!” 

  Steve smiles and does what she asks, hand cupping your jaw as you deepen it, tongue discretely sneaking out and swiping over his bottom lip. 

  He backs up, narrowing his eyes before he bends and whispers in Leia’s ear as he walks out of the kitchen.

  “Daddy says you’re…you…despict…” she frowns, trying to remember.

  “Despicable?” You ask, lips twitching in a smile.

  “Yes!” She shouts, but then whines when thunder rumbles and lightening illuminates the kitchen and her racing to grab your hand. 

  Before he opens the front door he hears, “Woah! Have you been going to work with your daddy and learning this grip from all those baseball players?”

  Leia’s laugh fills the spaces in his heart that cracked from saying goodbye, though it threatens to crack all over again when she asks, “Can we lisem to the eyes song, mommy?”

  “Eyes song?”

  She hums, and he can almost see her nodding as she says, “Daddy and you danced at dinner last night.”

  “Oh,” he can hear you sniffling and he wants to go comfort you, but knows you can handle it when you say, “I’d love to listen the eyes song honey.”

  He presses his forehead to the door as he closes it, already missing you.  

BICFTF TAGLIST:

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

@taccobelle @angst-lasagna @blckburd @crownofdecit @torntaltos

@sanniegirl1214 @yourmommilf @khena @ytgus @starryeyedpoet17

@halfburntout @belle101200

[lskisms]

(not) strong, c. berzatto

syn. you think you traded all your luck on being able to wake up next to carmen every morning because it doesn't look like you have any left to spare. no matter; carm is here to patch you up.

gen. romance, angst.

warnings. crying, reader has a bad fucking day, carm is a sweetheart, mentions of food and eating.

word count. 1.8k.

you’re lucky that bad days tend to be few and far between; how could they not be when you have the privilege of waking up next to carmen berzatto every morning? he, of course, denies the effect he has on your life, says if anyone’s making a difference here, it’s you. but you really can’t downplay the warmth and light that sharing a bed with him, sharing a life with him brings to you. seeing him first thing in the morning is always the best part of your waking hours, a nice pick-me-up before you go to work; you have never taken that for granted.

but there are days where even seeing your boyfriend isn’t enough to wipe the slate clean, to erase that familiar sense of dread that makes its home in the pit of your stomach for you to carry around all day. having carmen with you, body or spirit (through text, of course), always momentarily eases the pain, but when he’s gone, when you have to stop texting, it comes back, agonizing and sharp like a blade twisting in your gut. all you can do is count down the hours, minutes, seconds until you get to go home and see him again.

today, it seems, is one of those days. regardless of the fact that you woke up feeling well, sharing a few soft kisses with carmy in bed before he made you breakfast and left you to your own devices so he could get to work, it seemed like the universe was working against you: you got to the train late, meaning you made it to work late, meaning you started the day off behind and if that wasn’t enough, you just couldn’t seem to get anything right. time has moved by at a snail’s pace, almost like the world is taunting you, wanting to drag this torture out for as long as fucking possible.

and it is. it is torture in all the worst ways, excruciating and harrowing. you didn’t have time to slip away and text carmy the whole day, barely had enough time for a lunch break, and even when you had taken your lunch break, typically a reset for you, things still were entirely awful. you’re astounded you even made it through the day without breaking into tears.

in public, at least, because the second you get home, it all comes rushing at you. the door closes behind you and the tears will not stop, no matter how hard you will them to just go away. you can’t even be bothered to hang your bag up on the coatrack, letting it drop to the floor instead on top of your different pairs of shoes left stranded at carmy’s front door. you trudge through the apartment into the bedroom, change into comfier clothes (a pair of shorts and one of carm’s sweaters), and lay down. it’s the only thing you can think to do after a rough day while you wait for your love to come home to you.

he does, eventually, though much later than you do; with his hours at the restaurant, it’s not often he comes home any time before eleven pm, and even that, that’s pushing it. it’s maybe closing in on half past eleven when you hear the door open and carmy’s voice, your name sounding as perfect as ever (nobody says it like he does, you maintain, your name has never sounded prettier than it does coming from him), and you become acutely aware that you have completely wasted the evening.

carm’s footsteps draw closer and then you hear him again at the door, a sweet lilt of “baby? you doin’ alright?”

and that, for some reason, just sends you over the edge. you’re not facing him, which is lucky, but you shake your head and close in on yourself, drawing your knees to your chest and making yourself smaller. you’re trying not to cry, not again, but it feels like the only way to react, the only way to get all of this out.

“sweetheart…” his voice is quiet and then he’s crawling up the mattress to lay beside you, shoving himself in the small space left between you and the wall his bed is pushed against. when he sets his gaze on you, all soft and clear blue sky, you fall apart, not sobbing but not holding back the tears anymore.

for a few moments, carm doesn’t know what to do. even though he’s seen you like this before, he still hesitates because you aren’t communicating what you need from him right now. still, the best bet, as always, seems to be wrapping you up and holding your pieces together. 

so he does. he scoots in close, tucks your head under his chin, and wraps his arms around you. and he doesn’t say anything else, just lets you cry into his shirt, no doubt staining it with your tears, but if he cares, he doesn’t show it. you’re sure part of the lack of speaking is from him just being a little awkward about it, but still, you’re thankful that he isn’t pressing you on it.

when the tears finally do stop, he waits for you to pull back, waits for you to make the first move. he meets your gaze head on, the arm that isn’t pinned under your head moving so that he can wipe away stray tears caught in your eyelashes or on your skin.

“what’s all this about?” he asks softly, tipping his head so that your foreheads touch. “what’s got you all worked up?”

you shrug with one shoulder, casting your eyes down, letting them focus on the neckline of his shirt. “i don’t know. today was just… a really… really bad day, carm.”

he nods, brushes hair out of your eyes, lets his thumb stroke your cheekbone. “you can tell me about it. i’m listenin’.”

so you do. you recount the whole day to him, every gritty little detail, and he listens intently, like what you’re saying is the most important thing in the world to him. and maybe it is because he treats everything you do and say like that; he takes everything to heart and turns even the smallest things into something big and monumental.

you realize as you’re talking that all of the bad things that happened are so inconsequential and it makes you feel kind of stupid. carmen comes home and complains about much bigger issues all the time, and you listen, of course, offer advice when he needs it; but his issues are always so much bigger than yours, there are things, lives, that ride on his decisions going over well. not like yours, not like this. and it gets you worked up again, laughing when the tears burn at your waterline again.

“hey, hey, what’s all this?” he asks, ducking his head to look at you when you try to turn away. “why’re you cryin’ again?”

“i really don’t know, carm,” you answer tearfully, shaking your head like the movement will get rid of it all. “guess i feel kinda stupid. i’m not strong like you are.”

he mimics you, his turn to shake his head, curls falling into his eyes. “you don’t need to be, alright? you don’t have to be strong like i am. i can be strong enough for the both of us. that’s my job.”

“are you sure? i just-”

his hand, rough and warm, comes to rest on your cheek and you look up at him. his gaze is gentle in a way that he reserves just for you. “i’m positive. i can’t do much, but i can do this, so let me… ‘kay?”

you nod, closing your eyes and muttering back an “okay.” he leans to press a lingering kiss to your forehead before tilting back down, his nose brushing against yours. you lay like that for moments that stretch into forever, his breath hot against your mouth and his arms warm around you, your own personal weighted blanket.

“i’m not that strong, by the way,” he says quietly, breaking the silence. when you make a noise of confusion, he clarifies. “you said i’m strong, but i’m not. not really. i got a lot of fucked up shit goin’ on ‘n half the time, i’m spaced the fuck out… y’know, and i worry that you’re gonna figure that out one ‘a these days, but… i wanna be strong for you. i try really fuckin’ hard it almost scares me. so i mean it when i say i can be strong for us both because i want that to be the truth, y’know?”

you wrap an arm around him and nod, pressing your face into the soft material of his tshirt. the thank you you say into his shirt is wet and thick with tears, but he doesn’t seem to mind all that much, wrapping his arms tight around you and holding you against him; he doesn’t seem to mind a lot of the things you do, just takes them in stride and adjusts, which is sweet.

“you don’t need to thank me for anything,” he says into your hair, rubbing your back. “it’s my job to take care’a you, so that’s what i’m gonna do, alright? now… you eat dinner yet?”

the scoff he lets out when you tell him that no, you haven’t, might come off as mean to anyone else, but to you, it’s anything but. this is, for all intents and purposes, what he was made to do and this is proof of that.

“‘course ya haven’t. alright, what d’you want, hm? i’ll make whatever you’re cravin’, so just tell me what it is.”

you rattle off your order and when you pull away to look him in the face, he’s got a smile that belongs solely to you. he kisses you all soft and gentle, lips warm against yours, the one thing you’ve really wanted all day, and it dismantles that dread you’ve been feeling, takes its house apart piece by loving piece until it’s razed.

“you really gonna make me a grilled cheese right now? it’s almost midnight.”

carm lets loose a breathy chuckle, kisses you again, quick this time. “yes, chef. not letting my baby go to bed on an empty stomach. you know i don’t play around like that. what kind of cheese you want?”

you know he doesn’t play when it comes to making food for you, so you tell him to surprise you. you’ll eat anything he makes anyways because when he makes it for you, it’ll always taste good.

© lskisms 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.

[bun-z-bakery]

If you’re still taking requests, would you consider writing reader taking care of a sick dogday (and maybe him being difficult abt it?) plz? If not sorry to bother&have a nice day!

Yep! Currently I'm still taking requests! :3 I hope you enjoy!

Cold And Comfort

Dogday has been acting odd and it's gotten to the point where he has distanced himself from everyone, including you.

Naturally, you begin to wonder if you did something that hurt him and he felt the need to distance himself. 

3 days of this was enough and you decided a confrontation was needed. 

“Sunshine?”

You softly call out to him from behind the door. 

It's quiet, only the faint sound of breathing is heard. 

You slowly open the door, closing it behind you as you look around for your giant companion. 

It didn't take long to spot him wrapped in a pile of blankets, he even covered the window blocking the sun rays that he loved to feel on his fur. 

Carefully you make your way to him and gently shake him. 

“Dogday?”

You whisper to him as you take a seat beside him. 

Slowly he begins to wake up, you know from experience that Dogday is the type to enjoy sleeping in and will even sometimes pull you into a nap even if you have work around the house to finish. 

“Angel?”

He moves under the blankets and then slightly uncovers his face. 

He uses an arm to cover his eyes from the sun's rays. 

His voice sounded strained, similar to how it was in the factory. 

“We're worried about you, is so–”

He cuts you off with a series of sneezes, at first you thought it might have been the dust. 

The room was used as extra storage after all. 

But then you remember how he felt when you touched him. 

He was …scorching? 

“Are you ok?”

You try to keep calm as you feel around his face, but he can already sense your rising panic. 

You weren't familiar with toy anatomy, but this certainly wasn't something anyone warned you about. 

Surely he couldn't be sick, right?

Dogday takes a deep breath, you can hear a slight wheezing coming from his chest. That was all you needed to confirm your suspicion. He was in fact sick. 

“I feel terrible, I apologize for scaring you, my Angel.”

He covers himself again as he lets out a painful cough that makes you cringe. 

Seeing him in such a state made you upset. 

You try to think of all the reasons why he could've gotten sick. Allergies? 

“I don't understand how this could've happened.”

Maybe you were in contact with someone who was sick and you gave it to him. 

Does that mean there's a chance Poppy and Kissy are sick too? 

Whatever the case may be, he couldn't stay here. 

“Come on, let's get you out of here this dust isn't helping you!”

You exclaim as you try to pry him out of his blanket cocoon, but he refuses to move. 

“Angel, please don't fuss over me. I can assure you I'll be–”

He coughs before he can finish and you quickly remove the blankets. He begins to shiver once he's fully exposed to the air. 

“Dogday.”

You hold out your hand and he takes it, he's careful not to pull you down with his weight. 

Poor thing was shivering like a wet dog, but it had to be done. Aside from baths, he's never this difficult. 

You couldn't help but wonder why the sudden change. 

It took a bit of convincing, but you managed to get him back to your room and tucked him back into his blanket cocoon. 

“I'm not letting you move an inch.”

“Angel, don't worry about me…”

He attempts to plead with you again but unfortunately for him, you don't give up that easily. 

He was going to get better and you weren't going to let him suffer when you could help him recover faster. 

You gently scratch his ear, it doesn't take long for your gentle touches to put him to sleep. 

Quietly you make your way downstairs to make him a pot of soup. 

If he was able to get sick like a human, surely human remedies would work too right? 

Once you're finished you make your way back to your room with a bowl large enough to hopefully satiate someone as large as him. 

You thank Kissy Missy for opening the door and she gently closes it behind. 

Dogday must've been exhausted if he didn't hear you enter the room. 

You set the bowl on the nightstand and gently shake him once again in an attempt to wake him. 

“Sunshine!~"

You whisper to him and instantly his eyes greet yours. 

He begins to sniff the air before his eyes land on the bowl next to him. 

“Angel please, you didn't have to trouble yourself cooking for me…”

He said softly as he turned his gaze back to you. 

You sigh as you take a seat on the bed and turn to face him. 

“It was no trouble, you're no trouble! But you know what would be?”

He tilts his head to the side. 

“What?”

“No one eating the pot of soup I made.”

You jokingly pout. 

Dogday gives in and finally allows you to take care of him. 

Secretly he does feel guilty every time you need to cook different meals and buy extra medicine when the regular doses aren't effective. 

But he's glad it was his Angel who was by his side. 

Just like you had thought he did get better faster under your care. 

Soon enough he was back to his old self. 

‧₊ ๑˚.・

You lay in bed reading a chapter of a book as you unwind for the night. 

Suddenly you feel something heavy as your lower half sinks into the bed. 

“Hey.”

You chuckle as you hold the book to the side. Dogday lay sideways on the bed, he didn't fit in the bed laying sideways but he was in a good mood. His tail was always a dead giveaway. 

“I don't deserve you angel.”

He says in almost a whisper. 

His voice sounded much healthier than I did a few days ago, you've never been happier to hear his barks and howls again. 

“Is that why you were giving me a challenge?”

It saddens you to know how he felt but with his situation, you could see where he was coming from. 

“You've done more than enough for all of us. I don't want you to deal with more than you already are...”

“Well, your angel seems to think differently.”

You give him a reassuring smile and pet his head. 

“I think you deserve this and much more. Now please get some rest.”

You giggle at the last part as you playfully poke his cheek. 

“I've been resting all week!”

He laughed as he straightened himself to lay next to you.

“Hey, Angel?”

He turns his head to you. 

“Yes, Sunshine?”

You replied as you turned your head to face him as well. 

“Would you mind making that soup again for me?”

You quietly chuckle and put your book down for the night. 

“Sleep and I'll make all the soup you want until you're sick of it!”

You both laugh and Dogday quickly rolls over, hogging the blanket all to himself. 

You put your book on your nightstand preparing to say your goodnights but Dogday beat you to it. 

“Goodnight Angel!”

You playfully snicker as you try to stop his tail from hitting you. You couldn't help but smile at how the little things you do bring him the greatest joy. 

“Goodnight Sunshine.”

[specialagentlokitty]

Wednesday x reader - soft for you

hey can you do Wednesday having a soft spot for gen or fem reader (dating) and trying to wake them up for classes/ an investigation. (Reader isn’t a morning person) just her being sweet and unusually patient with the reader - @daryldixonsw1fe 💜

Wednesday had a rule in the relationship, and it was if you weren’t away an hour before classes were supposed to start she was allowed to barge not your room and wake you up.

So far, she had never had a need to do this, but as it ticked on 8am, she looked at her clock and turned to Enid.

“Is she awake?”

“No, she’s not relying to my messages.”

Wednesday nodded and gathered her things and left her from, making her way halfway across the campus where yours was.

She liked the fact yours was out of the way, away from all the others in a peaceful spot, it was a nice place to escape.

Wednesday pushed her key into your lock and let herself in, closing the door and setting her stuff down in front of it.

“(Y/N)?” She called.

There was no response, but the light snoring told her you were absolutely passed out.

Wednesday walked over and stared at you for a minute before she reached out and poke your cheek.

“Wake up mon amour.” She whispered.

You groaned a little and rolled over to your back, grabbing her hand as you held it down, but you still weren’t awake.

Wednesday sighed, rolling her eyes at you as she climbed on to the bed.

Her knees rested on either side of you as she sat on your legs.

Freeing her arm, she grabbed both your wrists and hauled you up, wrapping her arms around her neck and her hands around your back.

She held you like that, and you head simply just fell on to her shoulder, and you let out a small grunt of disapproval.

“Five more minutes…” you mumbled.

“No, you need to wake up now. Come on.”

Wednesday let you go and you fell back on to the bed with a huff, looking at her with half lidded eyes as you gave her a tired smile.

You moved your hands from the back of her neck to her hands, lacing your fingers together as you tugged her a little.

“mon amour…” she warned softly.

“Just five minutes…?” You yawned out.

Wednesday finally caved, she couldn’t say no to you so she nodded and rolled over.

She laid on her side letting you wiggled into her as your fingers slightly gripped the fabric of her blazer, burying your face into the crook of her neck.

Wednesday said nothing, but she held you lightly.

“Love you…” you yawned.

“Uh huh.”

You smiled a little, placing a small kiss to her shoulder before closing your eyes.

Within seconds you had fallen back asleep and Wednesday looked down at you.

“How can you sleep so fast?” She whispered.

She looked at the clock on your wall.

Technically you didn’t have to started getting ready for another 45 minutes, all you had to do was get changed and sort your stuff out.

So she stayed there with you, laying on her side as she simply just stared at the wall opposite her.

You were warm, like her own personal radiator. Compared to her cold skin, you were always warm, and it was nice sometimes to just lay there and enjoy your warmth.

You moved your head, and she lifted her chin, letting you tuck your head there before she rested it against your head.

Closing her eyes, Wednesday held you a little tighter, playing with the ends of your hair.

This was probably going to be the only peace you both would get for the whole day, so she was going to make the most of it while she could.

As the clock ticked, Wednesday opened her eyes again and gently rolled over, dropping her feet on the floor as he held you in her arms.

“Come on.”

Wednesday stood up, slowly lowering you to the floor making you mumble in disapproval once more.

You opened your eyes and looked up at her a smile on your face as you slowly sat up.

Wednesday was already getting your bag and getting everything ready for you while you grabbed your clothes and started to get ready in the bathroom.

When you were finished you tossed your clothes across the room and turned to Wednesday with a huge smile.

“Hey Wednesday?” You asked.

“Hm?”

She turned to face you, and when she saw your open arms, she waisted no time in walking over and letting your wrap your arms around her.

She wasn’t one for PDA, but behind closed doors, when it was just the pair of you, she would allow it. She always had, ever since you were kids she had a soft spot for you.

“We’re going to be late.”

Wednesday pulled away and leant up, carefully connecting your lips in a soft but passionate kiss before she pulled away.

She held out her hand and showed you her pinky, you placed yours on hers and let her claps them together before the pair of you left the room.

Class started in a few minutes, and just as the bell went you both walked through the door of your first lesson, taking your seats.

While you went back to sleep, Wednesday wrote notes in both hers and your books, knowing ever first class you would sleep through it despite the many detentions you got.

Enid saw this and she smiled, gently nudging Ajax and Xavier to looked, and they smiled too.

When Wednesday looked down at you, the softest look she had ever seen crossed her face, and she pulled you blazer a little closer to you before going back to take notes

[redriotinggg]

You know what I need? Strawhats raising a child, could be shippy or not, but I need them finding a baby and Luffy being like "I WANNA KEEP IT! How hard can it be to raise a child?" (Famous last words) This is less about wanting to be a father and more about thinking about this as another great adventure and experience for Luffy (besides if its a situation like finding a baby in a treasure chest they cant exactly leave it... tho I imagine Nami seeing Luffy with a baby in arms and being like "wtf, where did you get that???" Luffy: "I found it in a treasure chest :)" Nami: "WELL PUT IT BACK ITS NOT YOURS!")

Of course raising a baby in a pirate ship is bound to be dangerous, so most of the crew is like "lets find it a good family in the next island" so maybe it's more of a Tokyo Godfathers situation.

Who are the better parents? Who absolutely suck at parenting but want to help regardless? Are any of them like "I absolutely don't want any part in this" but end up being roped in regardless and end up getting attached to the child? Does the child end up being raised by Strawhats or they get them to a nice family somewhere safe?

If you know of any fanfics that are like this (if they're gen/Nakamaship the better) please reccomend them to me I'm in desperate need to see that, child raised by a village trope my beloved

Pffttt a baby should definitely NOT be aboard the Sunny but if it happened I can imagine that yes, Luffy found a baby in a treasure chest and by the time they realized what happened, they were already on the open water headed to the next island.

However, the first thought that came to my head was that Zoro was sleeping while guarding the ship and someone managed to dump the baby onboard. He wakes up and there’s a baby—just under a year old—sitting across from him, fist in their mouth and a note on their forehead that says, “YOUR PROBLEM NOW”. There’s nothing left for him to do other than wait and pray that the kid doesn't start crying or pooping.

The rest of the crew comes back like Uhhhh Zoro???? When did you give birth????? To which he yells that he didn't, you idiots!

Now they don't know what to do because they can't bring a baby on the seas in the New World, but the island they're docked at wasn't very welcoming and likely wouldn't care about an orphaned child.

Luffy makes the decision easily--they'll bring the baby with them and they'll be an honourary Straw Hat! If they get their adventure started now, the baby will be at a huge advantage when they become a pirate when they grow up. Raising a baby must be easy if so many people do it! But it doesn't take long for the others to convince him that keeping a baby abroad for an extended period isn't a good idea, so they decide to keep the baby until they can find them a good home.

Luffy is not so surprisingly great with the kid, although he's not allowed to be left alone with them. The crew freaked out when they found him and the baby asleep on the head of the Sunny. It would've been a sweet scene if they both weren't at risk of falling and drowning to death. If the baby starts crying and Luffy can't get them to stop in 2 seconds, he dumps them off to the nearest crewmate--he usually deals with crying kids by beating them up, but the baby's too young for that. Plus, the noise really hurts his ears!

Nami canonically loves kids and babies!! She doesn’t mind taking care of the baby until they can find somewhere safe for them. Except this baby is getting on her damn nerves because, for some reason, they don’t like Nami. At all. Every time she tries to hold them, they cry bloody murder. To add insult to injury, the baby absolutely loves Zoro, who still wants nothing to do with the baby. But she is nothing if not stubborn, and eventually, she and the baby are thick as thieves.

The baby loves Usopp because he’s so silly! He makes the baby laugh by playing peekaboo and he even whips up little toys for them to play with. He flails dramatically when the baby grabs his nose or pulls his hair, both of them laughing without a care in the world.

The baby is too young to be scared of Brook, so they just laugh as he dances and sings nursery rhymes from all over the four seas. His lullabies are very effective in calming the baby's crying fits or getting them to sleep.

Sanji prefers dealing with children when they’re old enough to speak, but he’s not immune to the effects of an adorable baby. If it’s a girl she gets the absolute princess treatment, complete with baby talk and compliments of how cute she is. A boy baby gets his hair gently ruffled. Either way, Sanji happily admires Robin sitting with a baby in her lap before he’s off to puree some fruits and veggies.

Chopper loves babies and thinks this one is so cute!! But he’s embarrassed by how jealous he is of all the attention the baby is getting. He can’t help it! He’s used to being the one taking naps in Zoro’s lap and being fawned over by Robin. He’s happy to have the baby with them, but he wishes he got some more attention, too.

Jimbei and Franky don’t dislike babies per se, but they’re just so small and fragile compared to them. They mostly watch the other crewmates interact with the baby from the sidelines.

Franky’s nerves aren’t helped as Robin keeps coming up to him while holding the baby and talking about how cute they are and how parenthood is such a privilege, don't you think, Franky? She manages to convince Franky to hold the baby and when he does, he bursts into tears. Overwhelmed, he passes the baby off to the closest person, who happens to be Jimbei, whose eyes also fill with happy tears when the baby snuggles up to him. Both of them stop keeping their distance after that.

Robin reads the baby bedtime stories! But the crew have also walked by and overheard her reading books about death, disease, and war. She speaks to the baby in all of the languages she knows and tells them all the secrets she's learned. It's too bad the baby is too young to retain all that knowledge, but she's more than happy to share anyway.

Zoro doesn't like kids in general, but kids love him, including this baby. The rest of the crew find it hilarious how awkward he is with the baby. You'd think he'd be used to holding a small being considering how often he carries Chopper around, but no, he's hopeless. Zoro is teased relentlessly for the way he talks to the baby. He talks to them like a grown adult and it's both endearing and ridiculous.

Absolutely nobody wants to change dirty diapers. There are physical altercations, manipulation tactics, and an abundance of tricks used as each Straw Hat tries to avoid diaper duty. (Usopp uses dirty diapers as canon fodder and ammo when they run into trouble on the water.)

Most, if not all, of the Straw Hats have mommy and/or daddy issues, so raising this baby gives them all a chance to heal, whether they realize it or not. It also gives the crew an excuse for group cuddles, not that they ever needed it.

The crew have all grown very attached to the baby by the time they reach a safe place with people they trust to raise them. A few crewmates (Usopp, Nami, Robin, Brook) want to keep the baby around--it's too cruel to leave them, now! But Luffy has made his decision. It's too dangerous for the baby out on the seas of the New World. But once they've found the One Piece they'll be back to visit.

Usopp made the baby a teddy bear and dressed it as Luffy, complete with a straw hat. Sewn to the red fabric of the hat is a note written by the crew, a photo of them all, and a piece of Luffy's vivre card. If the baby grows up and ever wants to come sailing with them, all they have to do is ask.

--

AAAHHH this was so fun omg!! I love babies sm and there'd be so many antics if a baby was on the Sunny. I doubt I'd ever write a fic myself though, but I'd be happy to think up more hcs in another ask :)

I don't know of any nakamaship fics like this, so if anyone does please link it in the comments. But! KazimaKuwabara has this FANTASTIC fic feat. the Straw Hats taking care of their de-aged nakama. I've read it so many times, it's great.

Thank you for the ask! Keep em coming y'all, I live for this.

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part VII)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 3.2k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: sexual tension, suggestive stuff.

Notes: bonding chapter of this slow burn aaaa thanks again for reading :D

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @soldirboy @deans-spinster-witch

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part VII: No More Doubts

When you left the motel early after a quick and dull breakfast, Ben was a pain in the ass as he kept asking question after question on the road. You knew he could just leave you alone but it wasn’t really something you’d like him to do. He was a fugitive, so were you. Soldier Boy knew better than that and he only had to stay by your side as much as he hated the idea. The only thing you could truly answer was that you were driving to a safer place. At least you were hoping it was. When you pulled the car after driving hours between the grove, Soldier Boy was waking up from his nap. You thanked heaven for that.

“We’re here,” you announced, turning off the engine.

Ben stirred on his seat, taking in the view of the house and nature and got out of your car, following you to the front door. He couldn’t help but to look around in somewhat awe. It was a large cottage-style house decorated with earth tones, great walls and columns. The place was surrounded by countless trees, making the weather bearable and somewhat nice due to the hidden location. The leaves climbed on some of the windows and the plants and flowers rested on the ground perfectly neat. He assumed you came here often. But it wasn’t really the place you used to come by and sleep every single day. It was too far away from the facility. As you unlocked the door, Ben followed inside, not without taking a last glance at your surroundings. No homes were near, nothing was to be seen. Only you and him inside this big fucking house.

The indoors were no different from the impression he got first. The decoration, the expensive sofa where you threw the sports bag, and the paintings and pots all over the place were saying you were rich. Of course, a fucking rich whore you were, he thought to himself. And he wondered where your real place was located.

“So, I’m gonna show you a guest room and then around, please don’t screw my house,” you said, giving him the sports bag.

“Got something to drink?” he asked, a smirk plastering on his face as he stepped closer to where you were standing.

“Water I do.”

Ben chuckled for a bit, eyes not leaving your face. “You’re so fucking boring, you know?”

“Yeah, well, alcohol is not really an important supply. Just follow me and maybe I’ll get you some later,” you said, turning around to get to the stairs.

You knew he did as you asked when his big steps echoed around the place. Once you were on the second floor, you motioned him to the next room a couple of feet away from yours and gave him directions about the bathroom and the manners. If he was going to be in your place, then he had to behave.

“I told you already, I’m not a fucking animal,” he complained after hearing your orders.

“Sure,” you dragged the word, eyes narrowed. “Because last night you were so civilized in the bathroom.”

He scoffed and then chuckled. “Did I get too loud?”

“You fucking tell me,” you replied with a much annoying smile on your face to match his own.

“Could’ve joined me. We’re not patient and doctor anymore,” 

“No.”

Just as the last word fell off your lips, your phone rang. Quickly you took the call, realizing it was Grace. You left Soldier Boy in his room and walked down the stairs a little too fast.

“You made it?” she asked on the other line.

“Yeah, arrived just minutes ago,” you answered, checking the stairs in case he followed. “Where are you, Grace?”

“That doesn’t matter. I have something for you.”

“Okay, tell me.”

“I will text you an address and an hour. Today. Don’t miss it.”

Your phone buzzed, announcing the information had arrived.

“I won’t.”

“I’ll keep calling through different phone numbers. Do what you have to do to complete the cure,” she said, like if she knew what was happening between both now.

Soldier Boy was unbearable but you had to keep him on track. Luckily, you were back home again and you’ll be working on the Anti V soon, praying the last bits of information and results of the last test were there for some reason.

“I’m doing my best,” you sighed.

Grace hummed.

“Good.”

“Any updates so far?”

Ben’s smooth voice woke you up from your daydreaming while you sat together in the dining room.

You had been able to make something quick for lunch after Grace called and you found yourself all jittery and tense, hoping Soldier Boy wouldn’t notice. But he did sense something different from you. So he kept insisting on what was going on.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, taking the last sip of water from your glass. You avoided his eyes, looking away.

He rolled his eyes and narrowed at you. “Has your office contacted you?” 

You shook your head.

“So they’re dead,” he said. Not asking, but affirming it.

A heavy sigh left your lips, your eyes going back to his harsh ones. “Leaving was the best.”

“Who’s that you keep in touch with?”

“What?”

Ben groaned slightly before snapping back with a low voice. “C’mon, Y/N. You called yesterday on the road, and now you receive a call. Who the fuck is it?”

His question is not just an inquiry anymore. He’s demanding to know. But you also know he hated Grace Mallory for putting him to sleep again, confined to a chamber where he’d be a trophy for the government to do whatever they wanted, how they wanted. Until you appeared, offering him empty words. Just like everyone.

“My superior.”

Your answer hit him like a truck. He knew it was Grace, but he didn’t like hearing it from you. 

The truth was, Ben didn’t like you… Not that much. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he wanted to kill you, sometimes the small common sense he still had on his head would say you’d be better alive. He had been thinking of going away, but not he didn’t really want to. He knew you had been working with Grace, he was no idiot. So maybe staying close should get him even closer to Homelander and Vought. He also thought of Ryan back in the cell you had put him in. He was so damn afraid Ryan would become like his father. And since the brat has been protected before by many people, finding would not be easy. That’s where your contacts and network would be a help to him. He was hoping to find something at your place to find them and the information he craved.

“Right,” he said, alarmingly calm and quiet. He took the last bite of pasta on the plate and swallowed down in silence under your gaze. You didn’t know what else to say.

“So, these powers of yours,” he continued, drinking the last sip of juice. “How’d you get them?”

“Why do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “I mean, they’re pretty fucking useless against me,” his words made you chuckle. Of course you knew that. “But I’m just wondering if you’d be with them.”

Your face turned back to a somber demeanor. “The Seven?”

He gave you a nod.

“Well, it’s not like all supes dream of that,” you uttered. “I just wanted to be normal.”

Ben raised a brow at your sudden confession. “Someone exploded everyone’s heads at the CIA. Sorry to say, sweetheart, but you suck at being normal.”

“Yeah, details I have to work with.”

“I take it you never went to them,” he continued and saw confusion on your face. “Vought.”

The word made you shudder for a slight moment, and you quickly tried to collect yourself to avoid him noticing.

“No, I never did.”

He scrutinized your eyes, hearing the poor increase of your heartbeats. They were enough to tell him something was wrong. But he decided to play along, so he nodded and gave you a rather compassionate look.

“Must be thankful they didn’t fuck up your life then.”

He had no idea.

You had parked the car outside an abandoned gas station; it was one of the nearest grocery stores to your home years ago. The now wasteland was almost two hours away, with a gas station around ten miles elsewhere. You had been waiting for Grace outside the car, leaning against the hood. Bored, you checked your phone again. When you arrived it was already past three o’clock. When twenty minutes went by, you wanted so badly to drive and get inside the next store you see and buy yourself food and supplies enough to survive a week or two with the idiotic supe now staying at your home. Grace said would be calling through a different phone but you received no calls so far. You’ve been waiting for more than an hour and the drive home wasn’t going to be shorter. Suddenly another car came into sight, pulling over near yours. Two men came out of it.

“Doctor Y/N?”

The stranger with the unknown voice and a weird accent caught your attention. Soon, you found the two tall men standing in front of you in the parking lot.

“We’re here on behalf of Grace Mallory,” the man continued.

He wore a long dark trench coat, looking rough and intimidating. The total opposite to the younger one, who gave you a kind smile once your eyes settled on him.

“How-”

“We have something for you,” the younger man continued. “I’m Hughie. Hughie Campbell,” he introduced himself, giving you a hand and fixing the backpack on his shoulder with the other one. You took it after a moment of hesitation. “He’s Billy Butcher, we’ve worked with Grace before.”

You nodded. “I thought she was the one coming.”

“She’s not in shape for that,” Billy answered. He realized your face changed at his words and quickly explained himself. “Vought’s cunts are looking for her, not safe.”

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath. “Great, awesome. So what do you have for me?”

“We, uhm, we made it to your facility and thought these could do some help,” Hughie took out a pouch and gave it to you.

With trembling hands you opened the pouch and sighed in relief. Five test tubes of the Anti V prototype were laid there. “You found them.”

“And we found a little bit more,” Butcher continued. “Victoria Neuman exploded the heads of your employees back there. We believe Vought had been sneaking and getting spies for themselves.”

“Victoria is a supe,” you voiced out. “A supe is running for vice president…”

“Yeah, long story,” Hughie commented. “She’s obviously linked with Homelander and Vought. Everyone was dead when we arrived; lab assistants, guards, agents, the supes… We believe her mission was to just let you and Soldier Boy out, besides stealing information about the cure you’re working on. Probably to give it to Vought.”

“Anything weird happen there before the attack?” Billy asked, not giving you time to swallow Hughie’s words.

“Uhm, yeah. Actually my lab assistant… She tried to warn me and, well, she was crying and asking me to leave. I didn’t know why until her head just- you know…”

You choked a little with your words. The picture of her body and the last seconds of her life were all you got. Everything was equally horrible that day.

“I’m sorry,” Hughie whispered.

“It’s fine,” you cleared your throat. “And I assume you didn’t find anything else? Information? Files?”

“Computers were destroyed. No files. No info. Nothing,” Butcher answered. “Grace says you’re the leader of the project. You have copies, right?”

“Why everybody keeps fucking asking me that? Of course I do!” you almost yelled, eyes full of rage staring at him.

“Easy there, doc,” Butcher lifted up his hands in surrender. “We just wanna get rid of those cunt supes as much as you want. Nothing wrong to make sure.”

“Well, I do have them,” you replied with a cocky smile. “Thank you very much for your concern, Adele.”

Butcher rolled his eyes, sharing a look with Hughie before switching his attention back to you.

“Yeah, sure you do, luv.”

It was already seven o’clock when you arrived home with supplies and food. Ben, as usually, acted like a fucking caveman claiming he was hungry and you had to act like the housewife, serving him a fucking hamburger and a glass of wine. That was the only liquor you bought. Despite his complaints, his hunger was greater and he devoured the greasy food with no table manners at all.

“You could chew your food like a fucking human being, you know,” you said, eating the last french fries you had. 

He turned his eyes to your face, pointing with his finger. “You were gone for like five hours.”

“So? There’s fruit in the fridge.”

Ben narrowed his gaze, like if he had been offended.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to serve something for yourself,” you teased. He didn’t say a word, and you giggled. “That’s fucking pathetic.”

He leaned towards the dining table, eyes locked on yours. “No, you just don’t know your fucking place, woman.”

“I just saved your life, Ben. At least say thanks,” you beamed, having too much fun by seeing him upset for mundane things.

“No, you didn’t.”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your wine. “Fine. I didn’t. Let’s go past this and start over. If you’re gonna live here, for now, then you’ll have to learn how to respect me.”

His brows raised. “I thought I already did.”

“Offering yourself to fuck me in a cheap motel is not respectful, Soldier Boy.”

“Well, I didn’t try anything, did I?” Ben finished his sentence at the same time he finished his dinner.

He waited for a smart comeback from you but it never came. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and a stupid grin appeared on his lips. “Unless you want to.”

“No, we’ve been through it. My answer is still no.”

“Then, mind to fucking tell me if you found something by now?”

He changed the topic swiftly. His playful demeanor switched immediately and you sighed, knowing he might have to hear anything to keep him down.

“You’re in danger.”

“I’m the strongest supe ever, that doesn’t make any damn sense,” Ben scoffed.

“Listen, we need to hide from Vought. Hide and not leave a trace, because now I’m involved with you and they’re absolutely looking for your ass,” you gave him a stern look as you went on. “If I fall, you go with me. And if you fall, then I don’t know if they’d still want me. But you’ll be fucked anyway.”

Ben nodded. In his mind, it didn’t sound like a bad plan. In the end, that’s what he wanted; to get closer to Vought and Homelander to get over with them. The world didn’t deserve those fuckers. And as much as Homelander was created with his own DNA, he knew better than to let a scum like him walk around the planet. You already gave him something, a clue. He had to play along for now. If they took you in first, then he might probably bargain to be him instead. It was only fair. He was the one that mattered anyway.

“Okay, I get it. I’ll stay here. But I don’t want those fucking therapies anymore,” he expressed, his gaze not moving away from the surprised look on your face. “Understand?”

You blinked a couple of times, shifting on your seat and chuckling under your breath. “It’s fine, believe me. I can’t stand you more than you do.”

Ben held your gaze, daring you to try something else. Instead, you smiled and got up and took your empty dishes to the sink. His eyes followed your moves, focusing on your small shorts and the softness of your legs. And you knew he was definitely checking you out when you talked.

“By the way, you’ll have to help me wash the dishes.”

He stood up, plates on his hands and walked behind your figure, putting them on the sink as you opened the faucet. His arms surrounded you once he did so and you flinched a bit. Ben smirked, feeling the reaction of your body trapped against his.

“Get away,” you ordered in a whisper, unable to move.

“I’m helping you, Y/N,” he breathed your name against your neck, his hand wrapping on yours gripping on the edge of the sink.

The only sound now was his hot breath on your skin and the water flowing. You quickly turned the faucet off, but you didn’t try to push him away.

It was the second time during the day he had said your name, ever. And you wouldn’t deny it sounded fucking delightful. He had only addressed you as his ‘doctor’, but now it was different. Though, you didn’t want to give into him. He was a huge douchebag and you were basically forced to spend time with him, in your home, without really wanting him there. You felt his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, and the primal part of you yearned for his touch, but the rational one won over and you freed yourself from his arms.

“Stop doing that,” you warned once you were face to face. His eyes were dark already and had a sparkle you knew too much since the day before.

“Alright,” he nodded.

“Just- let’s just wash these. I want to sleep.”

With a tired sigh, you walked down the basement. It was already midnight and Ben was locked inside his room, probably jerking off or something since you, once again, rejected him in your kitchen. Inside the dark room, you found the metal door that let you inside the bunker and unlocked it with the code. When you stepped in, you made sure to turn on the power and lights that illuminated the room and the small lab in the back. The computers started to run and you sat down on the main monitor, leaving the pouch with the Anti V tubes on the side of the desk.

Yeah, you might have told Butcher and Grace you had copies of every detail of the project. But you were afraid of the last stuff you discovered just before the attack. You knew well how the information was protected and encrypted, but it didn’t really assure you the profile of Solaris would be there. He was the first and last supe who had his powers off for a couple of hours at least and the feeling of losing it all had been eating you the last few hours after meeting with Grace’s messengers.

It took you a while to decrypt the system, something you had been already used to doing every time you got there to keep working on it, just to make sure no one would steal it. Hopefully, Vought hadn’t discovered it before destroying the facilities, you thought. And after a while, you found the last updates of the last test your team ran. Solaris profile and test was there. Not just in written letters, but the footage of the test and the exact formula that was used too. Now, you were so lucky.

“Well, thank you, Bianca. Wherever you are,” you whispered to yourself and took a tube from the pouch the men gave you earlier. You had a busy night ahead.