#‘please stop’ is not enough. you have to be intolerant to fight intolerance. you have to silence them first at all costs

[halfricanloveyou]

I don’t care. They don’t need to come to my house to bother and harass me. I get enough racism, homophobia, and transphobia in my every day life. I don’t need it sitting at my front door demanding my free time.

I do not owe kindness to the people that advocate against my human rights or human equality. And if you wanna help victims of a cult, challenging what they believe and why realistically is the first step.

[loviingpedri]

tolerate it - k. mbappe

prompt: when has your relationship become so low?

warnings: toxic!mbappe, cursing, arguments, fighting, mostly angst, grammar issues, subtle fluff at end (not much)

credits to owners for all images

your relationship with mbappe has been going on for a solid two years. the silence and distance have never been bigger. the gap was starting to turn both of you crazy. during dinner, it would be silent as he read and ate. you sat and watched him ignore you.

has his career grown so much that he doesn’t care about you anymore? you try your best with him. you cook for him, set the table for him, you clean for him.

but he only tolerates it.

was there something wrong? you weren’t sure. there was no type of communication with him. if you tried, he would shrug you off. you always continue to think you weren’t good enough for him. you use to listen to whatever he said. it was always going to be about him.

“kylian, how was your day today?” you cut your potatoes with shaky hands. this was the first time you attempted to have a decent conversation with him. and you weren’t going to stop until more then 10 sentences are said.

“it was fine.” he continued to read and scroll on whatever he’s looking at on his phone.

you cleared your throat. he didn’t even ask how you were. or comment on how good the food was, or how bad it was. he just tolerated it. no feelings were ever expressed from him.

“yeah, my day was also fine. do you like the new plates? i changed it up to the fancy shit.” you smiled a little bit, hoping to see him glance up at you for once. he was only tolerating it.

he did a small ‘mhm’ and kept eating.

“how’s the food?” your legs started bouncing. this wasn’t going up to plan.

he sighed in annoyance. “what’s going on with you today? you’re talking so much. just shut up and eat, okay? no need for all of this.” he finally fully talked to you. he finally looked at you. although, this was different. he looked and talked to you in the worst way possible.

you looked down at your food. your eyes started to blur from the water wanting to burst out. you bit your lip to stop it from quivering.

his ego was getting to him. he was always known as the famous kylian mbappe, but where were you in his story? he lifted you up to show the world how much your support means to him. now, you were just like a random person who he happened to know. someone who was always going to be viewed as under his power and control.

where was the old mbappe? the one who held you while you were cold. the one who fed you soup while you were sick. the one who protected you from all the danger. this mbappe only tolerated your love and his love was no longer existent for you. he was gleaming and glistening in the world, while you were just an accessory that didn’t seem to match.

“y/n. you didn’t answer my question. what the fuck happened today? why all of a sudden you want to be quiet?” his words were like fire. you were a glacier, melting and disappearing as the fire kept going. his ‘love’ is intolerable.

“nothing happened.” you sat up and collected your dishes. you walked to the kitchen as kylian followed you. as you put your dishes in the sink, he grabbed your arm.

“just answer already. you’re playing so hard to get. all of this shit is so unnecessary.”

you looked at him in disbelief. your eyes were losing at suppressing the tears. “have i done something wrong to you? you barely talk to me anymore. kyky, you’re losing me. your words are like daggers in my chest. i know my love should be celebrated. you only tolerate it. i can’t do this anymore. i’ve made too many sacrificed to only dismiss me every single day.”

he looked at you confused. “no, you didn’t do anything. it’s all my fault. i know i’ve changed and i’m sorry. time has been slipping away and this season has been so stressful. i appreciate you so much, i can’t express it enough. these past few days have been rough.”

“please tell me i’ve got it all wrong.”

he placed you on the counter and attempted to wipe all of your endless tears off. “yeah, you’ve got it all wrong. i will always include you in the story of my life. believe me, i could do it.”

[dr5amatic]

MONSTER YOU CREATED ,

a sentence starter prompts list comprised of quotes from arcane season 1. please be advised that this list may involve topics including, but not limited to violence. change verbiage as needed.

we're not gonna get caught. we'll be in and out before anyone notices.

thought last time was the last time we were gonna do this.

you could fill a damn library with all the things you didn't do.

a bit of advice. don't threaten the guy who pours the drinks.

when people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish.

you're gonna have to lay low for a bit, understand?

those who did this will be dealt with.

i ruined everything. i always do.

you have to believe me. i didn't do this.

i do love a good conundrum.

no great science should ever put lives in danger.

i believe i've discovered something truly incredible.

we look out for each other. it's the way it's always been.

all i see is a child meddling with things they don't understand.

i was trying to create magic.

arcane talents are something you're born with. they can't be fabricated.

you don't understand what's at stake, but how can you? that's a burden that only i carry.

if dangerous ideas didn't excite the imagination, we would never wander astray.

there's a monster inside all of us.

you're just a small man in a little hole the world forgot to bury.

i know you wanna hurt the topsiders for what they've done to us, but who are you willing to lose?

i saw it with my own eyes what magic can do, the lives it could save. you've no idea how beautiful it is.

when you're going to change the world, don't ask for permission.

what makes you different makes you strong.

you'll oblige a doomed man one last smoke, won't you?

you never did know when to walk away.

what have you done? this wasn't the deal!

you'll get people killed. for what? pride?

oh, i hated you for what you'd done, but as time passed, so did my hate. and i was left with an understanding.

the only way to defeat a superior enemy is to stop at nothing to become what they fear.

you'll die for the cause, but you won't fight for one?

willing to risk exile for your endeavor. that's quite the conviction.

wait a minute, this isn't my bedroom.

another late night. the work just doesn't end.

you were supposed to guard the cargo.

it was your job to make sure things went smoothly. you failed. don't disappoint me again.

do you have any idea what you've done?

how do you intend to prove any of this?

did my parents pay you to let me win?

i don't need favors. i need you to do your job.

you've just made yourself everyone's common enemy.

that place looks like it has bodies buried in the basement.

you're a symbol of the future now, whether you like it or not.

how can i say no to such an auspicious offer.

if you really want people to talk to you, you have to let them think you have what they want.

what is truth, but a survivor's story?

if i'm discovered, we're both finished.

are you headed home soon? i thought we could walk together.

betrayal, that pain that feels like it'll eat you from the inside out, can either break you or forge you into something greater.

loneliness is often the byproduct of a gifted mind.

do you contemplate death?

it's a sad truth that those who shine brightest often burn fastest.

i hate feeling so useless.

i know you have your reservations about me, but this only works if we can trust each other.

i just... want to feel what it was like... to be somebody. to make other people afraid.

how many problems can one girl cause?

you can fire that thing if you want, but i'm not going anywhere.

i'm not going to abandon you again.

i knew it was a mistake trusting you.

you look good for a dead girl.

that was a long time ago. people change.

nature has made us intolerant to change, but fortunately, we have the capacity to change our nature.

i know the look of a doomed man.

love and legacy are the sacrifices we make for progress.

i should have been there. for you. for everyone.

we came from a world where there was never enough to go around. that's why we fight. do you remember?

who found you? who cared for you? gave you a home?

i am your family. everyone else betrays us.

i'm only asking you to prepare to defend your people.

i'm worried i have to do something i never thought i would.

if you want to last in this world, you must learn to be both the fox and the wolf.

you'd give me a throne?

i'll give you the world if you prove you can take it.

sometimes, death is a mercy.

every time i think you can't get dumber, you dig a new low.

ego is one thing, brain is another.

weapons can't be unmade and they are always used.

that looks like more than a sprain. you need medical attention.

you have the passion of youth.

oil and water. wasn't meant to be.

we got a deal, pretty boy?

you've always been a part of this. you just never had to look it in the eye.

you really are fond of him.

i wanted to protect the city from people like you.

i can't believe you'd start a war just to cover your ass.

i would set the world ablaze to protect our family.

we lost ourselves. lost our dream. in the pursuit of great, we failed to do good. we have to make it right.

i'm trying to save you from annihilation.

i can't make a deal with a snake and cut off its head. we both have our shitty parts to play.

you'd be surprised what you can pull off when your life depends on it.

it's not enough to give people what they need to survive. you have to give them what they need to live.

is there anything so undoing as a daughter?

nothing ever stays dead.

the only thing that kept me going was the thought of getting back to you.

you're my daughter. i'll never forsake you.

remember who you are! i know you remember!

don't cry. you're perfect.

i thought maybe you could love me like you used to. even though i'm... different. but you changed too.

[problemnyatic]

the biggest failure of tumblr's progressivism is that way too many of you engage with it as a way to Be A Good Person, as in to make the person you already are count as Morally Pure. To way, way too many of you, the language of social justice is far more a tool to puff up your petty personal squabbles with Moral Weight than it is a precise instrument by which one dissects the patterns of the world around them such that we may all better navigate our systems of oppression.

You will never be a good person. None of us will. It's not a thing that exists. When you take an action, it has consequences, and you can only control so many of those consequences. Your job isn't to be morally pure, or to hunt out as many hurtful actions in others as you can, but to learn how to move mindfully, accept your flaws, and adapt to new information or inconvenient revalations as painlessly as possible.

Stop throwing people away. That means yourself, too. A good world won't be achieved by creating a group of undesirables and throwing anyone who fails your purity test into that group. That's called jail. That's policing. You don't have to love everyone, but you need to separate your personal feelings from your political beliefs, and you need to act based on your political beliefs more than your personal feelings.

The core of it, of all of it, is that injustice is committed when someone has had their right to self-actualize stripped or inhibited by forces other human beings can control. When we talk over others, when we allow our societies to limit people's time, ability, liberty to live as they choose, when we tell people who they're allowed to be, allowed to love, what they're allowed to want, that is when injustice is committed. The only thing we as human beings should inhibit is intolerance, is others' freedom to inhibit each other in any other way than this.

You gotta learn how to be the bad guy. You gotta learn how to be wrong. You gotta learn how to feel your guilt, your fear, your hurt, your indignance, without taking it out on others. You gotta learn how to see everyone, everyone around you as complex individuals with valid, rich inner lives, as people, people who are just as present and real and whose feelings matter just as much as yours.

It's not about you. Learn to take an L. There are much more important things out there than being right or getting what you want. The world is big and scary and on fire but there's no shortcut for doing the work or understanding what's important to inernize. You have to try, and read, and look for answers yourself, and risk fucking up, and risk looking stupid, and say the wrong things, and keep trying anyways, because none of that's the end of the world.

Try to take more things in good faith. Try to ask "am i looking for a fight? Am I hunting for outrage? Is there a more charitable way to read this?" before dismissing everything you see that you don't like. Righteousness is your fucking enemy. When you use shorthand for big ideas, do it mindfully, judiciously.

Slow the fuck down. There's no shortcuts for this stuff. Be kind first and foremost. Be patient. Try to make less work for others, AND yourself; spend a little time to save others effort, ask for help if it would take you too much time.

I don't know. I wanted to make a more cohesive point. Just. Stop looking for a fight. Please. There's enough fighting already.

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Training With Zoro P.5 (Eventual Smut) Y/N x Zoro

🍶 wc: 3.2K

NO SMUT YET I'M SORRY BUT I SWEAR IT'LL HAPPEN

P.1 P.2 P.3 P.4

I cut out the part about reader cooking a comfort meal and everyone liking it, which you can read on my AO3 if you're interested :) But briefly, reader needed comfort after thinking it's hopeless with Zoro, so they cooked a comfort meal. Eventually everyone (except Zoro) tried it and liked it, so you told Sanji he should cook it some time. He said no, because it's your recipe and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Just mugiwara family fluff :3 I also want it known I am white af, so in no way shape or form am I BIPOC. Please let me know if I should correct anything. This is simply a reflection of intolerance that is present against different nations in One Piece, no matter the race.

Warnings: reader feeling kinda like they don't belong, perversion (by other ppl) of a cultural dance, reader insecure about body, platonic(ish) bathing with Zoro, mild heatstroke, super sore muscles, taking pain medicine, so exhausted reader is acting drunk.

-----

I’m used to mental pain, so it shouldn’t add that much, right?

The rest of the afternoon and early evening was spent lounging around on the deck, hanging out with Brook. He had both his guitar and violin out, alternating between them as he experimented with melodies. You let the music wash over you, tapping your finger to the beat of the faster songs, and swaying to the slower ones. You closed your eyes, picturing how you would dance to them all, sketching brief choreographies in mind’s eye, basing your movements off the traditional dancing you did growing up. It was only when the skeleton stopped to drink tea that you remembered something he had said yesterday when the storm first hit.

“Brook?”

“Hm?” he hummed as he handed you a teacup balanced on a saucer. You smiled and took it gratefully.

“Yesterday… with the storm… you said something.”

“I did?”

“You said… that you didn’t know where you were supposed to be or what you were supposed to be doing.”

“Ah. That’s right. What about it?”

“I… what… have you… did you struggle to find how you contributed to this crew? Like you’re a strong fighter and a great singer, so obviously there was a place for you. But…” you trailed off quietly, unsure of how to phrase what you wanted to say.

“Hmmm. I did. I didn’t think I contributed enough to this crew. I kept trying to prove myself, prove that they had a reason to keep me. I got underfoot for days, trying to help but I actually made things worse” he said, chuckling at the memories. You shifted, waiting for him to continue as he sipped his tea.

“I eventually ended up confronting Luffy, and he put my mind at ease. Everyone has a role on this ship because we’re all different human beings. We all contribute something to this journey we call life, building on people’s experiences when they interact with us. You have nothing to worry about. You are valuable to this crew simply because you’re here.”

You looked down at your lap where your teacup was held, fighting back the urge to cry.

“But I…” you started quietly. Brook interrupted you.

“You care for all of us, and that is enough. You keep our ship tidy, which is a feat in itself, but you do so much more. You talk with us, sharing your experiences, opinions, and empathy. You’re even sitting with me, enjoying my music. What is music if it’s not heard? You talk with everyone about what they’re interested in, letting them ramble and you ask questions, showing that you’re genuinely interested.”

He placed a skeletal hand on your shoulder. It felt odd- pokey and too light- but comforting none the less. You looked at his eye sockets, a shy, wobbly smile breaking through. You were sure he would be smiling gently at you if he had the lips to do so.

“You have enough heart for both of us. Because I have no heart! YOHOHOHOHO!”

You rolled your eyes at the dumb skeleton joke, chuckling despite yourself.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked. Zoro told you the crew wouldn’t mind… and if you wanted to dance again, you needed his help. He cocked his head expectantly, looking at you.

“Back home… I used to be a dancer. I used to perform the traditional cultural dances, and I was damn good at it. Unfortunately, I got an injury and couldn't dance to the performing level anymore… but I’m still not half bad”

“Oh really? Please… tell me about the music that played. I’ll humbly do my very best to replicate it so you may dance again, should you wish to do so” he said, picking up his violin. You grinned excitedly before it faded a little.

“Ah. But. The one I miss the most… it get’s a bad rep” you started, nervous. You’ve seen how the skeleton can get lost in his perverted thoughts.

“A dance that gets a bad reputation? How?”

“I… It’s about… spring. Welcoming the new life back into the world. About welcoming the fertility of the season, and it eventually changed to something that was seen as provocative. Of course, perverted pirates came and spread the news about how dancers were moving incredibly seductively. But… I think it’s beautiful. It’s graceful but difficult, fluid movements with hips and arms and your back” you explained. Your remembered of the satisfaction of how your movements flowed gracefully like the streams that trickled back to life after the snow, hands drawing shapes and patterns in the air as your legs lowered you up and down smoothly, your feet carrying you in twirls as you balanced on the balls of your feet. You didn’t notice the faint smile on your lips.

“I think it sounds beautiful. If you ask me to see it as a work of art that inspires the beauty of spring, I shall abide by that request to the best of my ability” Brook said. You looked at him, pulled out of your memories.

“That means a lot. Thank you” you said quietly, smiling at him. He took a sip  of his tea.

“So… tell me about the music” he said, gesturing to his instruments. You grinned, and opened your mouth in preparation to speak before the musician interrupted you.

“Ah. Excuse me” he said politely. You looked at him curiously. Your silent question was answered promptly as he farted loudly, then belched. You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing, yelling at him in between breaths that he was disgusting and that he stinks. He joined in your laughter easily.

“Don’t encourage him!” Nami nagged, lounging near the helm. That only made you laugh harder.

That night, dinner was boisterous, but your muscles were quickly becoming more and more sore by the minute. Each knock against your thigh or arm by the rowdy bunch almost made you flinch. You felt a steady gaze on you through the meal, and you looked up multiple times to make eye contact with Zoro. You couldn’t decipher the look, and it didn’t help that his cheeks were nearly constantly puffed out with his large bites of food or deep swigs of his drink. How can he be so sexy and hot but also adorable?

Eventually, you excused yourself, having fully planned on going to your room to sleep away the pain. Apparently, someone had other plans. Not five minutes after you limped to your room and flopped face down on your bed, a loud knock rapped on the door. You groaned, and managed to roll to your back before calling out to come in. You had an idea of who it was, even through the haze of being half asleep.

“It’s me. You gonna use the bath salts tonight?” Zoro asked, leaning in the open doorway. You spared him a glance and sighed.

“Mmm. Maybe. I’m pretty tired though. Might just use them tomorrow” you muttered. He was quiet for a moment, shifting in place. You heard the clink of his swords.

“You should at least wash the muscle cream off.”

You groaned.

“I thought you said it would soak into the skin or something.”

“I never said that.”

You craned your neck, looking at him. You probably looked ridiculous in this position, but you didn’t care at the moment.

“If it won’t stain my clothing because it’s soaked in enough, why does it need to be washed off?”

“Hah? Do I look like Chopper to you? He only told me that it needs to be washed off at the end of the day, something about muscles cooling when you go to sleep”

You groaned again, relaxing your head back onto the mattress. Smart, Chopper. Getting him to take a bath every time he uses it. You chuckled tiredly as another thought popped up.

“You sure you’re just not trying to get me in the bath with you? Jealous that I took a one with Robin?”

You almost felt his posture stiffen.

“Why would I care you took a bath with Robin? Besides, it’s time I took a bath, and I pushed my body in training today. May as well draw one bath with the bath salts for the two of us at once.”

You grunted. He did have a point. It was rare enough that the man took a bath, and besides, he didn’t see you like that. You weren’t much to look at.

“Fine. But I’m not walking without more pain medicine” you conceded with a yawn. You glanced at him. He looked surprised at how easy you agreed. You scoffed, reaching for the pouches you had deposited on your bedside table earlier in the day. You tossed the one containing the salts to him before digging around to retrieve another dose of medicine from the other.

“Relax, hot shot. I won’t look if you’re shy” you teased. Your fingers uncorked the small bottle and you downed the medicine.

“I’m not shy! I wouldn’t ask you if I was shy, idiot!”

You snorted at his adamant reply.

“Shut up and follow me” he griped. You sighed, moaning as you hauled yourself out of bed. Your muscles twinged briefly before settling into a dull ache. You followed him to the bath house, passing a smirking Robin in the library. You rolled your eyes at her, dragging your tired body up the ladder. By the time you got to the undressing area, Zoro was only in his pants, his swords resting against the wall. As he undid the button and unzipped, you couldn’t help it. You wolf whistled, smirking. He snapped his head towards you, flushed. You giggled.

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist teasing you. You’re so fun to rile up” you said, turning away to undress. He grumbled under his breath, looking away. You looked away as soon as you caught a glimpse of his bare ass as he pulled the waistband down over his hips. He really was telling the truth earlier. He wasn’t wearing anything under his pants. Blushing slightly, you stripped from your outfit, underwear following closely as soon as you heard the door to the bathroom close. You took a deep breath, readying yourself for the absolutely sinful sight you knew you was about to bless your eyes. You heard the shower head running, the bath water splashing in the background. You wrapped a towel around yourself to preserve at least some modicum of modesty. Wait.

Wait. One showerhead. One. He’s using it. In there. Standing naked. Your thoughts stuttered to a halt as a blush overtook your face. You almost turned around and left right then.

“What the hell are you doing? Get in here! The bath is almost ready!” the swordsman yelled from the bathroom. You took a deep breath, clearing your mind and sending your body on autopilot. You opened the door, closing it quickly to avoid the loss of steam. That would be your saving grace in this sinful heaven you had managed to get yourself in.

“Calm your swords, Zoro. I’m here. Maybe I just wanted to give you a moment of privacy to wash your ass” you muttered. Good, good. Play it cool. Like this is completely normal. You heard him grunt, and you looked up. Your heart dropped into your stomach, and your fingers felt almost tingly. You weren’t breathing, but you didn’t care. You could die right now and be happy, feeling blessed.

He was standing with his side facing you, arms raised, showing off his biceps and forearms as he ran his hands through his water-soaked hair. Water dripped over his body, falling into crevices, and tracing the planes of his muscles. You followed a rivulet with your eye, tracing its path as it dripped from his thick fingers, down the back of his neck, over his shoulder blade, down the crevice of his spine, and curving as it met the dimples of his lower back. Your eyes trailed lower, seeing the outline of his toned ass that bled into thick, well-muscled thighs that were often hidden under his baggy pants. You ripped your eyes back to his face, one eye looking at you from the side. Water dripped from his sharp nose and ran down the side of his mouth. It dripped off his chiseled jaw to fall onto his plush pecs, following the hills of his abs, trailing down to the V that led directly to his cock. You swallowed. You couldn’t see it. It was strategically hidden behind his thick thigh and a veil of steam, but it was right there.

“Stop staring and get in the water.”

His demand snapped you out of your reverie. You focused back on his face.

“Huh?” you eloquently replied. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Get over here, idiot.”

“Right.”

You stepped forward, inhaling the steam.

“You need to take your towel off.”

“…yep.”

He snorted at your obviously flustered state. You hung your towel on the hooks on the back of the door, and turned around, placing your arms so you were still at least somewhat covered. He wasn’t looking at you, turned away and facing the wall.

“I won’t look until you say so. I remember what you said earlier... about being… ya know… about your body” he murmured quietly as you padded forward. You ripped your gaze from his ass, feeling like a perv once he said that.

“…thanks.”

He was silent, sighing into the hot water streaming from the showerhead. The two of you washed quietly, trading places as needed. Out of respect for him, you didn’t gawk at him like you did when you first came in. Though you really wanted to see what he was packing, you kept your gaze solely on his upper body. True to his word, he didn’t look at you. You guided him around the shower with pokes and prods on his biceps, leading to lighthearted bickering. Eventually, the two of you settled into the bath, fragrant from the salt Zoro had sprinkled in the water before you came in. You sighed as you felt your muscles ease and relax with the healing properties.

“Fuuuuck me this feels amazing” you moaned. You heard Zoro make a small noise, and you glanced at him. He was still looking away.

“You can look now” you said quietly. He glanced at you before looking at the water.

“I… I didn’t look at you either, you know” you muttered, looking out the window. The crescent moon was low in the sky, shining brightly through strands of thin clouds. You glanced at the man across from you, who met your gaze with a teasing raised brow.

“Yeah? Even in the beginning?”

You scowled, face flaming.

“Doesn’t count. You looked at me then too.”

He scoffed.

“Just your face”

You splashed him lightly with the water, still scowling.

“Good. Though there’s not much to look at though so… whatever I guess.”

“There’s lots to look at” he muttered, seemingly unwittingly. You cocked your head in confusion.

“Did you just call me fat?”

“What?! No! I-I-I… it’s just… you…”

Your quiet giggles quickly turned into full laughter at his frantic scrabbling. He finally stopped and glared at you, jutting his bottom lip out. Was he…?

“Awww are you pouting?”

“No!”

“You sure?”

“Yes! Now shut up so I can soak in peace!”

You giggled.

“Yes sir” you said mockingly. He tensed briefly at your reply and shifted his legs under the water. You narrowed your eyes, but dismissed it, exhaustion crashing over you again.

You must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, there was a gentle hand stroking hair from your head. You were warm, too warm. Your head was leaning against something firm but with some give. You hummed, opening your eyes. You were in the bath still. Zoro was next to you, letting your head rest on his shoulder. Unthinkingly, you snuggled into him, grabbing his arm and cuddling it to your chest. You felt him stiffen.

“You awake now?”

Your head shot up, and a wave of dizziness made you slump back down. You groaned.

“How long?”

“Not very. About twenty minutes”

You hummed, blinking a few times.

“Dizzy” you slurred sleepily.

“Let’s get you out of here then. Can I carry you? I won’t look.”

You grunted an affirmative, but still whined when your comfy headrest rose out of your reach as he shifted. You tried to tilt your head up to look at him, but that made your dizziness even worse.

“I’m going to pick you up now” he warned. You tried to raise one arm, but felt it swaying. A hand grasped it, and wrapped it around the back of a wide neck. You felt one corded arm under your shoulder blades, and the other under your knees, and he lifted you carefully out of the bath. You groaned with the movement, letting your head loll into his chest.

“Let’s get you dressed and some water.” You could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest.

“Zoro?”

“Hm?”

“You’re good.”

“I’m good?”

“Mmhmm. A good person”

“Whatever you say.”

He placed you on the small bench in the changing area, ducking back into the bathroom to grab the towels. The room spun, and you swayed in your seat. A solid hand fell onto your shoulder.

“Maybe we should see Chopper”

“Poor Chopper. Me again? Poor guy” you muttered. The filter between your brain and mouth was completely gone, erased though exhaustion and dizziness.

“Can you dry off?” A towel was shoved into your hands, and you clumsily swiped at your torso and thighs, unable to dip down to dry your calves. You tried to dry your back, but you dropped the towel.

“Good enough. I’ll help you stand so put your underwear on.”

You were raised to standing, and you were only kept on your feet by the swordsman’s grip on your shoulders. You somehow managed to put on your underwear through muscle memory, though it was clumsily done. You moaned, utterly exhausted.

“’m sorry” you mumbled.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“You’re helping me so much. I’m not giving anything in return.”

“You don’t need to give anything in return. We’re crewmates”

“I love you guys.”

Zoro snorted.

“What are you, drunk? Raise your arms.” He instructed. You ended up lightly smacking his chin clumsily with a floppy hand, but still managed the task. He wrangled your slack body into your shirt and slid your pants back on.

“Fuckin hell it’s like dealing with a child.” He muttered.

“I think you’re good with kids. It’s adorable. You should let your childish side out more, other than arguing with Sanji” you swayed as you talked, more from exhaustion than dizziness as your body cooled.

“Thanks for the advice” Zoro replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re welcome” you said cheerfully.

“Okay I’m going to carry you to the kitchen now.”

You nodded, moaning with a new wave of dizziness overcoming your senses with the movement.

“Strong man” you muttered as he slung you over his shoulder like a sack. He was obviously ignoring you at this point, which you were okay with. You were just so… tired.

You briefly remember someone coaxing you to drink some cold water, with some voices floating in the background, then strong arms tucking you into bed. The last thing you remember was a light kiss on the forehead, with a man whispering, “sleep well”.

[quanblovk]

Who did it?

Out of nowhere, Dragato angrily approaches the dining table and slams his fist down while holding an empty milk carton.

Sir Dragato: I don't care how great or noble you are.....ANYONE WHO LEAVES THE MILK CARTON IN THE FRIDGE JUST BECAUSE IT HAS ONE DROP LEFT IS UNBECOMING OF A WARRIOR!!!

Sir Falspar: oh! There's milk left? Can I finish it? I love milk!

Sir Dragato: yes Falspar, you can.

Sir Falspar: yay! ^o^

Sir Nonsurat: It wasn't me, I was out all morning making sweet love to Arthur's wife!

Sir Arthur: I know I let you have affairs my wife but do you have no shame blurting that out loud?

Sir Nonsurat: What is there to be ashamed about? I take pride in our forbidden romance! It's the most beautiful form of love!

Galacta Knight: Really?! I didn't know love could be so deep...

Sir Dragato: Don't listen to him, Galacta Knight. Nonsurat! You're being a bad influence on our new recruit.

Sir Nonsurat: hmph....

Sir Dragato: Now WHO DID IT?! I demand that they immediately go to the store and buy new milk!

Sir Arthur: Now now, Dragato, this isn't something to fuss about. You could always go and buy new milk yourself. No need to fight.

Sir Dragato: Arthur...you don't understand. We are star warriors, the greatest army in all the galaxy. The very fate of the universe are within our hands and yet....a person who leaves things unfinished...you think they should be allowed to be in this army?!

Sir Arthur: *GASP* You're absolutely right...How could I be so blind? We will investigate this matter immediately! Clear the table!

Sir Nonsurat: Eh-?! Wait, right now?

Sir Dragato: What's wrong? NERVOUS BECAUSE YOU'RE THE CULPRIT?!?!

Sir Nonsurat: Nonsense! I'm lactose intolerant!

Sir Dragato: Oh....Hey wait! What in the four stars have you got against dairy products?!

Sir Falspar: I don't think that's what it means-

Suddenly, the door bursts open as two people walk in. It was their comrades, Garlude and Jecra. They seem to be in a good mood!

Jecra: Good afternoon, gents! Haha!

Garlude: Good afternoon!

Sir Falspar: Oh hey guys! We're trying to find out who didn't go to buy new milk just because the carton had one drop left.

Jecra: WHAT?! I didn't know we were interupting something so serious....

Garlude: Truly something unforgivable....to think there was such a person amongst us.

Sir Nonsurat: No way....you guys are actually serious about this...

Sir Dragato: OR MAYBE IT WAS YOU!!! HUH, MILKBOY?! What do you have to say for yourself?!

Milkboy (Falspar): It wasn't me! Also milkboy sounds really weird, please don't use that word ever again.

Sir Dragato: Way ahead of you, realized it the moment I said it....

Sir Arthur: come join us, Jecra! Garlude! Your testimonies would be of great use. Help us find the culprit!

Sir Nonsurat: A-are you serious? But I promised dear Guinevere that I'd take her to that fancy new Floralian restaurant-

Sir Dragato: SAVE YOUR DAMN DATE FOR LATER, MOON BOY. WE'VE GOT BIGGER PROBLEMS.

Moon Boy (Sir Nonsurat): *gasp* MOON BOY?! AND YOU DARE BELITTLE OUR LOVE?! Draw your weapon, WE DUEL!!!

Sir Dragato: AHA! SO IT WAS YOU! YOU'RE BEING SO DEFENSIVE ABOUT IT!!!

Sir Nonsurat: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT I'M LACTOCE INTOLERANT?!?

Sir Arthur: Enough! Both of you! Stop acting like ruffians! This is no time to fight amongst ourselves, we should focus on the main problem at hand. Now, then. Everyone sit down.

They all complied and took their seats at the dining table. However, it was rather small and their wasn't enough seats. So Falspar just climbed on top of Dragato. Everyone seems unfazed by this, including sir Dragato himself.

Jecra: As expected of Sir Arthur...such a great leader!

Garlude: He's a man who takes charge and controls the situation....just like his father...

Sir Dragato: Of course! He's our leader afterall. With him, we'll be able to weed out traitors in no time!

Yamikage: Hey.

Sir Dragato: Oh hey, so as I was sayi-....

Dragato turns around to see a ninja hanging upside down from the ceiling, looking at him with a rather bored expression. Though his eyes quickly light up when they meet with Sir Arthur's. They both wave a little at each other before returning to their usual expressions.

Sir Dragato: .......I-

Yamikage: Hey, Dragato, Hey everyone.

Sir Falspar, waving from the top of Dragato's head: Hey Yamikage~!

Sir Nonsurat: Greetings to you too.

Galacta Knight: Hello!! T-that'll be the last time I talk, I gotta get back to my train of thought.

Jecra: Hey. Ninja.

Garlude: Hello, Yamikage. What were you doing up there?

Yamikage: Classified. I heard something about a traitor so I came down.

Sir Arthur: Oh no, there isn't a traitor-

Sir Dragato: THERE IS TO ME!!

Sir Arthur: Ah, we're just looking for the person who didn't go buy new milk after drinking it all. You'd be of great help! Come join us.

Yamikage: Hmph, I see. That's a rather silly thing to do for a man like you but I'll play along.

Sir Arthur: Now then, if we're all settled. I'd like to start with Sir Falspar first. You wake up the earliest out of all of us, not to mention you have a fondness for milk. Tell me, what did you do this morning at the kitchen?

Sir Falspar: Well alright......It goes like this.

Sir Dragato: ......Aren't you going to-

Sir Falspar: No no, leave something for the next part!

Sir Dragato: what? What do you mean by that-?!

[TO BE CONTINUED

when i feel like it -3-]

[etherealpapercut]

prompt: *my own sad ass because i actually have low blood pressure, and wouldn't it be nice if my favourite avengers were there to help me out after i collapsed and was having a bad day?*

~*~*~*~

hypotension

~*~*~*~

fandom: mcu

pairings: platonic!peter parker x gn!stark!reader

genre: fluffy and angsty moments all throughout

warnings: no bad swear words! (yay!) but lotsa fainting and mentions of fainting, it’s implied that y/n is american, lactose intolerance, emotional outbursts, cream puffs. in that order.

word count: 2.5k words

summary: drastic times call for drastic measures and y/n stark is pushed to the edge after a series of collapsing episodes. no one dares go near y/n now, except for y/n’s best friend, peter parker. 

~*~*~*~

you felt lightheaded, and the world began to fade around you. fog invaded the corners of your eyes as your muscles started to give way. one thought stood out among the rest.

oh, again.

all of a sudden, your senses came back to a fatigued body sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. you checked the wall for the nearest clock.

it read 12:05 PM.

you must’ve blacked out for a full thirty seconds by your reckoning. an average time, but it was still a concern. “uughh,” you groan, fighting the urge to completely collapse. this was the third time today. you needed salt in your system, and the faster the better.

you mustered up every last bit of your energy and powered through the weakness. 

“i’m an avenger. i’m the child of an avenger,” you whispered. “i am strong, and am completely capable of walking down a hallway.”

“y/n stark,” a robotic voice blared from unseen speakers. “are you alright? you were unconscious for—”

“yeah, yeah, yeah, FRIDAY,” you mutter. “delete all the security footage of that... scene... please.”

“are you sure? you may want to review this footage at a later time for a full-body diagnostic. i recommend you consume a source of sodium, and drink one full glass of wa—”

“DELETE THE FOOTAGE, FRIDAY!” you yelled. your lungs couldn’t get enough air. the rest of your teammates knew that your body didn’t naturally produce enough sodium for you to maintain a high rough level of blood pressure, but moments like this, when you full-on collapsed, were still very embarrassing. you were glad you were all alone. you threw a suspicious glance behind you just to make sure.

absolutely nothing stirred. FRIDAY continued to speak.

“deleting. i suggest you make your way to the main kitchen. there are pickles in that fridge. ”

you stood up slowly, wary of another attack from your own body. you continued to move slowly, down a hall, up a flight of stairs, past a bathroom, and down another corridor to the kitchen.

when you arrived at the kitchen on the second floor, you weren’t even surprised to see that the rest of the avengers were already there. the kitchen on the main floor was the biggest and best, and today, wanda and thor had done the shopping.

(those two had exotic tastes—which were anything but your typical american cuisine—and everyone looked forward to the meals that they prepared.)

something that smelled thick and savoury was in the oven, and a bowl of fruit was on the counter, surrounded by the others’ cups and mugs and glasses. you made a beeline straight for the refrigerator. 

“heyyy, y/n!” sam called. “what’s up?” he was stationed next to the coffee machine. on any other day, and in any other mood, especially if you had not had three “episodes” earlier, you would have stopped to say hello and make small talk, but today you simply ignored him. to top it off, you barely even heard the man, as blood was rushing through your ears like a waterfall.

tony was standing in front of the fridge.

“well, if it isn’t the great y/n. wonderful to see you finally out of your room.” he joked. “how are you feeling?”

you pushed past his hug and opened the fridge door. tony pouted.

“now, y/n stark, that's no way to treat your father,” steve rogers said from across the counter. everyone heard cap, you included, but you ignored everyone. 

“yeah!” tony agreed. he waved both hands at steve, one empty, the other occupied with a glass of water. some of it splashed, but he took no heed. neither did you, and you continued to rummage through the shelves and compartments, hunting for the pickles. you weren’t finding them, and felt a wave of nausea and exhaustion and an overwhelming mood swing wash over you, you drew up every ounce of composure you had left and turned around.

“hello, father,” you addressed tony cordially. “mr big bird, mc’captain freaking america. that smells lovely, wanda, whatever it is.” you were being very sarcastic. the room had quieted at your condescending tone. 

you blocked it all out.

“where are the pickles?” you demanded.

“where are the pickles?” tony murmured. he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “FRIDAY?” he hollered, “where are the pickles?”

“sir,” FRIDAY said. she said nothing else.

wanda cleared her throat. “uh, y/n, please don't get upset, but i used the last ones in my casserole,” she gestured towards the oven. tuna bake. it was tuna bake. you hated tuna bake. no offense to wanda. the tuna part was fine. but lactose intolerance ailed you as well as your sodium deficiency, and that recipe called for a full block of cheese, four cups of milk, and the worst one of all; half a cup of butter.

everything drained out of you. nothing remained. you hated when you got like this, and you knew when you got like this, but you couldn't even spare anything to apologize. you grabbed tony’s glass of water right out of his hand, took two steps to the mess of spices wanda had left on the counter, dumped a pile of salt into the water and chugged it.

the room went silent. every eye was on you.

you felt sick as you swallowed every last drops of the brine. you tossed the glass into the sink, not caring if it broke, then stumbled towards the door again.

you caught the expression on natasha’s face. she looked queasy. it took a lot to shake natasha romanoff. wanda wore a similar look, hands covering her mouth. your dad just stared after you with a mix of awe, inspiration, and complete disgust. 

it was an eye opener.

many in the room looked about to have a fit. they could all imagine what that might taste like, but none in their worst nightmares would ever try a salt water ratio like you had.

your insides churned. you had the salt you needed but at what a price.

it took several attempts to open your mouth to speak.

“i’m going.”

and with that, you left

~*~*~*~

your destination was the grocery store, granted that you could get out of the avenger’s tower without a huge fuss.

you heard someone walking behind you, probably someone who was determined to follow you and make sure you were alright.

you glanced back, ready to throw hands, but instead spotted peter parker, the amazing spider-man, walking aimlessly on the ceiling behind you. he was fixed on his cell phone, and nearly ran into a light fixture.

he hadn’t been in the kitchen, so he hadn’t seen what you had just done. there was hope of redemption and regained innocence in that prospect. you had a feeling that no one would see you in the same light again. 

you committed many crimes on the battlefield and on the game board, but this was a new extreme. bucky had looked disarmed.

you wiped the salty drool from your mouth on your shoulder and waited for peter to walk by you so that conversation could be initiated. regular convo, linguistics between children of the same generation. the ceiling was the perfect height to talk to anyone on two different planes, specifically between a person on the floor and a person on the ceiling. 

the boy on the roof snickered at something on his screen and kept ambling in your general direction. 

all of a sudden, you wobbled on your feet and had to catch yourself from tripping over thin air. ugh... if that horrid glass of salt water hadn’t been enough to kick your system back to rights, you might explode into tears.

peter’s hood had fallen over his head, but that didn’t block you from being able to see his face clearly. it wasn’t the tiniest bit flushed from being upside-down for so long, and once more, you found yourself marvelling at your friend.

peter stopped walking on the ceiling, and you approached, unsteady on your feet.

“spider-baby,” you address him in a mocking tone. peter acknowledged your voice, but it took him a few moments to stop what he was doing on his phone and look for you in the room. you smirked at him, only a few feet away.

“y/n!” peter yelped, taking several shocked steps backwards. “how did you get on the ceiling?! what thehow are you sticking?” he walked around your head, baffled. “you didn’t get bitten by a spider either, did you?” you flicked his nose when he got in range, taking slight pleasure in his reaction. 

“fool, you’re the one on the ceiling,” you said. 

“wh—wha—oh. yes. that would explain it.” peter flexed and flipped himself around and stood to face you on the floor. he flapped his arms and raised his eyebrows to convey a ta-da! impressive, huh? air, and you smiled at him.

“bro, you gotta stop growing,” you turned, punching him in the arm. the two of you began to walk. Peter towered a full six inches over you. 

“tall people are always nice people, and i am one of those taller people,” peter declared.

you scoffed. “well, one day,” you said, sarcasm and humour loading down your voice, “i’m gonna look up at a skyscraper and realize it has your face on it, and it’s actually you.”

“well,” peter replied, “i may grow, but you will not, and one day, sky-scraper-me might accidentally step on an ant named y/n, which will be a sad day, but it’s too bad you were too short for me to see you.”

you elbowed him playfully, mock scorn written all over your face. peter just took hold of your sleeve and tugged, just about sending you tripping.

sometimes you really forgot how strong he was. 

then all of a sudden, your friend was in the middle of a sentence about his homework, and the end of the hallway had been reached and the two of you were about to turn the corner. 

how—?

your vision went blank, but you were aware that you were still walking, until you hit a wall and fell to the ground.

something like static, or ringing bells, was going through your brain. vaguely and faintly, you could hear peter panicking. 

now what was happening? everything was dark.

your brain processed that your friend’s voice had cracked and he sounded rather high-pitched. it was like a soprano’s. ordinarily, you would have laughed for ages over his voice cracking, but you were paralyzed sitting slumped against the wall. you felt like you were floating through space, until you were really floating and peter was carrying you to the nearest couch.

you hit the couch cushions and bolted upright, scaring peter, every bit of strength coming back all at once.

“peter parker!” you gasped.

“y/n stark!” he cried. “you’re alive!”

“of course! of course i am, don’t cry,” you assured him. peter snivelled. 

“i thought you up and died on me, idiot,” he said.

you rolled your eyes affectionately at your friend. “listen, if i ever died it would be because i was killed, and i’m taking you with me, so don't worry.”

peter nodded. that's what friends did.

“i didn’t know who to alert.” peter mumbled. “i just, uh, called for mr stark. he’d know what to do, right? he’ll come help you. you’re his child, after all.”

you just groaned and shook your head. tony was an overprotective father, yet somehow, simultaneously, an extremely nonchalant one. you knew he would hear peter screaming for him, and dismiss it with a wave, maybe ask FRIDAY to give him an update, or send vision or rhodey over to check up on you if he was really concerned.

“yeah, spider-child, mr stark will know exactly what to do. but we know better.” peter cocked his head. you reached out and poked his arm. “and you know what we need to do? we need to go to the store.”

your friend’s look of confusion prompted you to further explain. “my blood pressure is running low today, and i need pickles or some kind of electrolyte drink to help raise it so i don’t die. we don’t have pickles or electrolyte drinks.”

peter nodded seriously. “so we need to get pickles. pickles and gatorade... and profiteroles, y/n/n, we can't forget the profiteroles.”

you suppressed a grin. profiteroles were a forbidden desert at the avenger’s tower, because everyone would fight over them. who knew that such a simple thing as a box of cream puffs could turn the infamous avengers on themselves in a heartbeat?

this was going to be a top-secret mission to the grocery store.

“profiteroles for sure, pete. after pickles.” you patted your pockets for a pen and paper as peter did the exact same thing. you smirked at each other. 

“anything else for the list?” peter asked. 

“we’ll see,” you remarked. peter jumped to his feet and held out a hand to help you stand up.

“let’s go!”

~*~*~*~

later that night, you and peter hunkered down in your room. your room had a tv. tony let peter live in the tower, but he had said that peter took after him too much, which was true, and if he had a tv in his own quarters, he would get carried away or distracted and stay up all night watching “whatever the hell he watches.”

peter had insisted that the two of you watch star trek, but you had adamantly put your foot down and said that you would prefer to watch star wars. after some argument, you had agreed to binge the original star wars trilogy first, and then end it with peter’s favourite star trek films. 

your trip to the store had turned out to be a trip to stock up on all-nighter supplies such as popcorn, chocolate, and other caffeine, as well as both yours and peter’s favourite candies and a new fluffy blanket.

and, of course, a jar of pickles, which you had cracked open and dug into with desperation as soon as you and peter had checked out.

peter had laughed at you, but it wasn’t a mean laugh. he had even eaten the whole pickle you offered to him on the walk back to the tower. 

after some heated discussion over distribution of the profiteroles, and smuggling everything in (particularly the profiteroles,) without being detected—a process that involved some complicated web slinging—as well as trying not to alert anyone else in the tower of your escapades, the two of you had put on your movies and lt everything relax into a state of peace. 

you yawned. the time was approaching two in the morning and you felt yourself drifting away from the world, but this time, instead of the reason being your blood pressure dropping, it was because of the lulling scene that befell you: a muted tv, lighting the room with a soft air, and your best friend breathing deep and rhythmically as you nestled into each other. 

minus the hypotension drama, i would do this again, you smiled, and let the world fade away into happy dreams.

[quincyhorst]

DRAGON FIVE: Heo Ji-Nan

Since its the Year of the Dragon, wouldn't you guys mind if I post about the Fire Dragon bench? They're my side hyperfixation that I love writing about every so often 🥺

Also yes, I specify bench because I don't care much about the main team for now. At least outside of their dynamics with the benchers that is-

First we have Ji-Nan, the reserve keeper. He's so cute ;____;

His profile implies that he lives in Seoul despite being from the south, so I like to interpret that his family moved there at some point of his life.

Typical story of a parent managing to gain a better place to live at thanks to their job; the usual. While most of the family was ok with the moving, Ji-Nan does get homesick at times, specially of the warmer temperatures. His original home are the Jeju Islands, by the way.

Because of the sudden change of location, Ji-Nan still has it hard to get used to living in the big city overall. At least joining his school's soccer club helped him make some friendships, I guess.

So, about his issues with the cold, here's a cruel fact: Ji-Nan has cold intolerance, which makes enduring the Seoul winters even worse. To cope with them he tends to put on puffy jackets, scarfs, gloves, and tons of layers of clothing. Otherwise expect him to catch him a cold very quickly…

The little hat he wears is just something he bought in hopes to warm himself up.

He has an older brother, but that gets constantly on his nerves because of his mischievous and unneeded comments towards him. When Ji-Nan practices soccer, he likes to act as a striker, and he will celebrate intensely every goal he makes against his brother.

...Though, Ji's very hot-headed overall. He doesn't take jokes very lightly, and he gets pissed off easily. I don't see him as violent when he's angry, closest thing is that he's quite petty and tends to complain about others in secret. Soccer and goalkeeping are also ways he lets his fury out without hurting others, supposedly.

Though in very rare occassions, Ji-Nan CAN actually try and fight someone no matter the size.

I like the idea of Ji-Nan using Dai Bakuhatsu Harite a very different way than the one seen animated: While the main keeper uses many but enough hits to stop the ball, the reserve often hits the ball way too much and with too fast, causing it to be slightly burned after the final explosion. This is an unwanted side-effect that's caused by a badly performed move.

His relationship with main keeper Jo Jung-Soo is okay, given there isn't an actual rivarly; and even JS himself sees potential on Ji-Nan. Unfortunately, he is very aware that the reserve keeper often puts too many of his negative emotions into his moves; which isn't neccesarily a bad thing but such intense things create the side-effects we mentioned earlier. So Jung-Soo always keeps an eye on him, and steps in is Ji-Nan is being his usual salty self.

"Don't let your fire get too intense, it will damage your playing style".

JN unfortunately doesn't have the best reaction to this, feeling often misunderstood. But at least later on the FFI he realizes healthier ways to express his negative feelings while also finding peace of mind. He probably got onto meditation or something

Because of the bad relationship with his older brother, te tends to become attached to pretty much every single older boy that treats him better. Jung-soo? The coach? The other benchers? You name it. Please ignore the fact that 3/4 of the bench aren't great people, the bar is just that low for him.

Though, Hwan Woo-Myang having a similar personality to his brother -always teasing Ji-Nan and his skills- can cause some tension between the two. Even if he's just being mischievous, this still is able to open the worst side of the little keeper, straight up talking shit behind him at any chance.

...For something more positive at least, time did make both boys mature a bit; removing Ji-Nan's petiness and making Woo-Myang a bit more considerate for others. After a re-encounter as adults the two surprisingly bonded well this time around, and they soon became good friends. Nowadays every weekend Woo-Myang likes to take Ji-Nan to eat and/or sing together. They always are having fun!

Speaking of the future, after the FFI Ji-Nan was the only FD bencher that kept playing football. Despite everything he never gave up and kept training, and soon enough after perfecting his skills enough he was given a spot on a professional Seoul team.

Another thing that contributed to his rising fame was his bond with Jung-Soo, given that they were in pretty good terms and often tried to train together. Nonetheless, Ji-Nan prefers to go his own way, even as to wishing to soon play internationally unlike the main keeper (Who'd rather stay on Korea as to keep improving local football).

Last thing, but a huge issue that did held back Ji-Nan during his early football days was his height. After all, with the current best korean keeper being huge, why would anyone place their trust on a tiny one? To compensate that, he trains very hard almost daily, following a rough excersice routine crafted from trial and error. At least once his daily effort is done, he loves to eat a huge bowl of fresh fruit.

(And yeah, don't expect him to get any despective comment about his height very positively).

[whaticannotshowyou]

omg welcome back!!! Can I please request lactose intolerant Jaskier?? Relying on the classic fantasy diet of bread and cheese, just rubbing his belly urgently at camp at night before it all spills out of him. Maybe he thinks it's the meat at first, so he eats more dairy instead and his stomach hurts all the time.

Thank you!! And of course you can!

Jaskier who isn’t born with lactose intolerance, getting a good taste for dairy products as a young boy and keeping it as an adult. He never noticed any change, really, but he sure does one night when he eats just a little too much of it.

He blames the meat as his stomach starts aching, uncomfortably shifting as he complains about it. This prompts Geralt to grab the rest of it, his digestive system able to handle raw meat if needed and thus not bothered, while handing over the rest of his bread and cheese to the bard. Jaskier happily eats it and wishes for his belly to recover somewhat soon, especially considering he didn’t eat much of the meat.

Except it doesn’t. From then on it only gets worse, his belly rumbling while he starts feeling more and more bloated, arms wrapped around his midsection as he prays for it to end before he humiliates himself.

He slides down the tree trunk he is sat on and leans back, resting against it instead as he rubs comforting circles over his ever bloated stomach, wincing as he can’t hold back a small amount of gas escaping him. Jaskier knows that Geralt noticed it, him barely able to have a growling stomach several meters away while on the road without him stopping so they can eat, but he’s a gentleman enough to not even look up from his meal.

Jaskier keeps passing gas slowly while his face heats up, turning to his side while cradling his belly. When he lets out a whine, Geralt decides he can’t just watch anymore and sits down next to him with one hand on his shoulder, squeezing slowly.

Then, out of nowhere, Jaskier feels an urgency deep within his guts, freezing up as he turn over on his back again. The same moment he tries to stand up, the cramps come back full force and he curls up on himself, grunting as it almost feels like something is moving inside of him. Another wet fart and he knows he has lost the sudden fight, gasping and choking back an embarrassed sob as he feels his body empty itself right then and there.

It doesn’t help much, his belly still revolting in pain, Jaskier doubling over as he’s helped to his feet by Geralt. The two stand still for a moment as he tries to regain his senses, only for the mess he’s made to get worse. Jaskier is barely even sobbing over the humiliation, instead brought to tears from his insides, figuratively and literally, exploding.

They manage to get him a few meters away from camp where he can crouch down, clutching his stomach while resting his back against a tree. Geralt leaves him alone for the time being, though only physically as he keeps hovering close by and throwing pitiful glances Jaskier’s way.

When it’s finally over Geralt brings Jaskier a wet rag and a change of clothes, setting up his bedroll in the meantime so the bard could rest, still curled up on his side throughout the night, but no accidents happening.

The next day he swears it had to be the meat, choosing to abstain from it for now. He surely comes to regret it after gorging himself on their other food once more.

[eimearkuopio]

I think every finite life has wheat and chaff. The moments that must happen for us to become our truest selves, the observations around which the spline is fitted in this specific iteration that defines the underlying truth in a close enough approximation that we can identify the infinite self (but I believe every butterfly was once many, many caterpillars, and dying in a cocoon only means being born a cocoon the next time around).

Maybe we have more people with disabilities for a few reasons. Maybe because we have already built a better world than the one we inherited, generation after generation after generation. Mine is the first generation to have it worse than their parents in so many ways; to have too much circus and not enough bread. Maybe our parents' generation doesn't understand that if they cling to the reins because they fear the children they raised won't care for them, or will care as little as they cared for their own parents, they are doing us and themselves a disservice.

My Nana and I are very alike. I have already identified and sought and received treatment for ailments she suffered from her whole life, and she was brainwashed into believing that her suffering was the price of her reward in the next life. She applied that principle to everyone she knew and loved. As long as she thought she was suffering the most, she didn't care how much she hurt other people, and she didn't want to understand better or do better. The treatments I need for my physical limitations may shorten my lifespan; but they also nearly made me kill myself at 28, and I suffered (AND CAUSED OTHERS TO SUFFER IN SPITE OF MY BEST EFFORTS) my entire life until maybe a month ago. I don't know if I am cured, but I know that I finally have a treatment that works for me. I think it will work for some of you.

Do no harm, but take no shit. I had to be wounded and to heal so that I could learn what was truly intolerable. Nana couldn't tolerate things either, but she never resolved the contradictions. She just came up with her iterations of the solutions.

My mother's younger sister died this summer. I didn't know her as well as some of my other relatives. We bonded a lot last summer. She wasn't part of the Church as it currently stands, and that is a tragedy, because she was the greatest livestock guardian sheepdog I have ever known. More feral than me, but that's because I have Nana's blood to temper Grandma's. Sometimes when you cross two breeds, you get the best of both worlds. Sometimes when you breed two species, you can get offspring, but it's sterile. I don't want to live in a zoo. I want to be free. I know that I will always be apart from the world, but I still want to be in it. I want to live before I die, and I want the same thing for all of you, and I think He did, too. I think that's why He sacrificed Himself.

Put down your cross. Please. He didn't want you to be crucified. That's why He let you crucify Him: so you could finally learn how to stop fighting each other. I don't think He expected you to take this long to really get the message, but it's not too late. He is a patient God.

[the141ghost]

There was a very subtle change in Soap’s expression the more Price listed ways that Simon treated him differently from everyone else. It was all true, though.

“S’pose it could happen. Can’t see it happening, mind you, not with how much he seems to love looking at you. But, even if he did never look you in the eye again, you’d survive. It’d feel awful for a long time, but you were friends before feeling ever got involved, yeah? Eventually, you’d both just default back t’that,” Price said slowly, making sure he was speaking clearly enough for Soap to understand even if he wasn’t being extended the same courtesy. He didn’t mind, really. At least Soap was talking. 

He’d have to ask Gaz how he was getting on with Simon, soon.

Then, the added point at Simon never really making eye contact with anyone. It earned a sudden, surprised laugh. He was right. “I do get your point, but it’s better than never knowing, don’t ya think? Sitting there for the rest of your life, wondering if maybe something could have happened.”

Price studied Soap’s thoughtful, stoned face for a few seconds before he continued. Was Gaz having to give Simon a similar pep talk? He hoped so, but somehow he knew already that Gaz had pulled the short straw going to the other man. Sure, he had gotten away from the Scottish ramblings, but he’d soon be stuck with Manc ones.

“Doesn’t have to be right away, you know. God knows you’ve both got quite a bit going on right now. But… Maybe it’s just something to think about, yeah? Worst he can do’s say ‘no’ and break your heart. I’d say it’s worth knowing.”

---

Fentanyl? Fucking hell, Soap must’ve been in a bad way. And it was Simon’s fault. 

Gaz sounded amused, Simon could understand why. Soap normally was a sight to behold, but high? Simon found himself surprised he couldn’t hear the Scot from where he was laying.

He raised his brows a touch at the comment about not wanting to know what happened. His stomach churned and he let out a small huff. Maybe not, then.

“Been in the hospital before, Sergeant. Don’t plan on getting drugged up like Soap was, so you can fuck off back to him, now, if you’d like. Be best for everyone,” he snapped, his mood seeming to take a sudden, abrupt tanking as he pulled himself upright even more. He couldn’t have a breakdown in front of Gaz, he fucking refused to.

So, he turned on the part of himself that was a pro at pushing people away by being as intolerably cunty as possible.

If Gaz looked close enough, he’d be able to see Simon’s eyes begin to water. Whether it was the sheer agony he was putting himself in just by sitting upright, or if it was because he was genuinely moments away from breaking down. The hand that was touching his head dressings had begun to shake. Not even a little bit, it was properly trembling by the time Simon had enough coherency in himself to lower it back down to his side, clenching his fist and willing it to stop.

Was Gaz telling Price that, now? It had to be who he was messaging. Maybe telling him that Simon was well and truly fucked. Damaged goods, beyond repair. They should just cut him loose now before he was mobile enough to fight back against it. He wouldn’t blame them. He felt fucking useless right now.

He didn’t even know if he’d be able to fucking walk.

His breath caught in his throat and, though a weak, small voice, he managed to speak. So, being a cunt didn’t exactly last for as long as he wanted it to. “Gaz, I need you to get out. Please.”

Johnny frowned, at first, when Price completely dismissed him. But as he continued, listing off things Simon did or let him do, he felt a small spark of hope begin to build in his chest.

Simon probably wasn’t in the habit of sharing his secret smoking spots with people either, or letting them stitch up his wounds and clean the blood off his face. Or dragging them around corners when they should be doing a debrief in order to answer their stupid questions.

Oh, yeah, he never got his answer to that three wishes question. He’d have to remember to ask at some point.

That thought - the realisation that there would be a some point in which he was going to be able to ask - was more soothing than anything else had been since he’d woken up. Simon was out of surgery and Gaz was going to be with him when he woke up. He just had to hope that the surgery had gone well, and that there weren’t going to be any lasting effects…

Simon was going to okay. If he thought about it hard enough, he could will it into existence.

“Aye, bu’ wha’ if I say somethin’ an’ he never looks me in th’ eye again?” Johnny groaned, completely ignoring the fact that he technically had said something already. That didn’t count, Simon probably didn’t remember that. Probably. Hopefully? He really didn’t know, at this point.

Yeah, it was definitely a good thing he wasn’t going to remember the specifics of this conversation. Now, he was apparently asking Price for relationship advice.

He added then, in a mumble, “No’ tha’ he ever looks anyone in th’ eye, bu’ ye git ma point.”

That wasn’t exactly true, actually. He seemed a little more comfortable holding eye contact with Johnny than he did with other people. Just another thing to add to the list.

He looked up at the ceiling, which he supposed he should start getting used to as a thing he was going to stare at often, because he didn’t exactly have much else to look at. There was a rather long list of things that showed Simon cared for him, but was it really love? What if he just really liked Johnny in a completely platonic way and that was just his way of expressing it? Given how emotionally and socially inept the man was, Johnny wouldn’t be that surprised.

---

Maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say. Ghost had lapsed into silence now, completely dropping the subject, and his reply had given away nothing about his reaction to that information. Too late to take it back now.

Gaz wasn’t going to try and talk to him when he didn’t seem to want to, if anything he was glad for it after dealing with Soap’s inane rambling, so he left Ghost to check himself over as he pleased and pulled out his phone. He’d been reading a pretty good book before all this had happened, he was eager to get back to it.

A couple minutes passed before Ghost spoke again. Gaz looked over from his phone, seeing Ghost’s hand on his head, lightly feeling over the bandages. He looked… well, his expression certainly wasn’t good, and his tentative voice wasn’t much better. Price had admitted to Gaz that he’d mainly reminded Soap about his painkillers because he knew it was a way to stop him from being so stressed, and he was starting to wonder if that same tactic might somehow work here.

“No, think he was too high when I left to form a coherent thought,” Gaz said, amused, trying to keep the conversation light, “They’ve got him on fentanyl.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that last part, actually, he wasn’t sure if that was going to make Ghost worry more or not. He continued, not lingering on it,

“You sure you wanna know? I wouldn’t. Not exactly pleasant.”

He looked down at his phone again to pull up his messages with Price so he could let him know Ghost was awake and seemed well enough. And that he wouldn’t stop talking about Soap.

He figured that the way he was most likely to be able to get Ghost to take some painkillers would be if he mentioned it in passing, casually and non-judgmentally, and gave him plenty of time to give himself a dose while Gaz wasn’t looking. So, that’s what he did.

“Oh, you’ve got a PCA machine there, by the way,” he looked up briefly to nod over at the machine, making it seem as though speaking about what Soap was on had reminded him, then looked back down at his phone to finish and send his message to Price.

[junosmindpalace]

I just saw the post and I'm going CRAZY!!!! 💕💕💕 This feels so accurate?! I was seriously impressed! and I loved how detailed senku thoughts and feelings towards the reader💗💗💗💗 god this was such a good job thank you!!!!!!👏👏👏👏 and honestly this is so good I want a part 2 to this but not now!! I know you have other requests to deal with so please when you're done with them and get the rest that you deserve I'd love to see a part 2 where after the war senku sees his crush is being courted and flirted with by non other than ryusui who has his eyes on them and probably won't give up any time soon😉 maybe this will force senku to finally admit his love to them???

((pls don't overwork yourself or anything just take this when your open for requests again! after a break or do whatever you want! I'm good with anything so it's your call and again thanks!! this was so good probably my favorite interpretation of senku being in love 😊))

THANK YOU for giving me an opportunity to indulge in a jealous senku concept. I'm an absolute sucker for jealousy tropes (when they arent. weird). and thank you so much for your kind words and patience!! i take special attention to writing the characters as accurately as i can because i know from experience that there are many instances where characters are soo extremely ooc and it takes away from the writing a bit. Im so glad you liked your request and i hope you enjoy this one as well!

please note that i struggled with writing the ending so pardon me if it seems rushed ;,)

wc: 2.9k

tw: none!

Constructive feedback is always welcome! I'm always looking to improve!

Senku feels humiliated by how much his illogical feelings are consuming his thoughts and controlling his behavior recently. He’s surprised that more people don’t take his insistence that romance is a burden to heart, because his romantic feelings are slowly starting to make his head spin. 

Ryusui’s arrogance and overwhelming personality were already bad enough, but Senku thinks that his interest in you is far worse.  

The (former?) billionaire goes from insufferable to almost intolerable as soon as Senku catches sight, or hell, even sound, of the two of you together. Ryusui constantly compliments you and makes you laugh, makes not so subtle physical contact and consults with you about everything. He frequently lavishes you with the wealth he was able to quickly reobtain in the stone world, and all the more frequently reminds you that he desires you in one way or another. 

His boisterous attitude and advances onto you make Senku’s blood boil.

The battle against Tsukasa had been won for good. Tsukasa had surrendered and Hyoga, defeated; one behind bars, the other in a deep frozen sleep. Tsukasa had sustained a fatal injury from Hyoga, and his only chance of survival was to be killed and freezed in a cryogenic chamber until means to revive him were available. Despite their battles, Tsukasa was still one of Senku’s first allies, and putting him in such a vulnerable state was emotionally tough on the scientist. Throughout it all, your presence was comforting, and so was the fact that there was no threat to hurriedly prepare to fight. Senku could finally begin unraveling the petrification mystery, and his plan included making a ship to travel to multiple destinations around the globe in. It was around this time that the reality of the situation really settled into Senku’s head: there was no threat, and his heart was still racing around you. 

It seemed that ever since Senku realized he was in love with you, his feelings have been growing more and more, despite him wanting the opposite to happen. He found his palms clamming up whenever he was around you, his head bowed just the slightest bit lower. He was becoming hyper aware of the way he acted toward and around you, and it embarrassed him to no end, struggling to stop himself from acting so out of character even if it was in the subtlest of ways. 

Senku did a lot of reflecting during this prepping period. Tsukasa was only one out of many challenges awaiting. With Senku’s plan to travel around the world, it was only logical for him to consider the prospect of more danger lying ahead. There was much to be done and a lot more responsibility to take on, and so maybe Senku, for the sake of your safety and the mission, should just continue to keep his feelings secret. 

And he was ready to commit to this decision until Ryusui’s revival. 

He tried so hard to not let his logic fly out the window every time he found himself annoyed at Ryusui. At first, he refused to let himself admit he’s jealous. It’s just illogical! Why would he be jealous of anything or anyone? You two aren’t dating and you’re entitled to making friends- hell, you’re entitled to dating whoever you please! Senku doesn’t have a say in your personal affairs and certainly has no valid reason to feel jealous of your relationship with the captain. Which is why he concludes that he isn’t. The persistent annoyance must just be Ryusui himself. Senku was caught off guard by him in their first meeting. 

And yet, subconsciously, he always has his eye on the two of you, straining to overhear conversations about you both. He can’t help himself. Senku continues to go about his work but he also trains himself to multitask when you’re in the vicinity. Any outsider would probably fall for Senku’s act, but his sly mentalist friend, Gen Asagiri, knows better. 

A short while after Senku’s realization, Gen figured out that the scientist had finally recognized his feelings. He hasn’t been loud about it for the most part, but just because Gen has the decency of not proclaiming Senku’s romantic affection for you outwardly doesn't mean the Kingdom of Science leader was immune to his smirks and side-eyes. Gen refused to leave Senku alone about his attempts at disguising his jealousy, immediately seeing through his act and relentlessly teasing and taunting him, his words resonating with Senku’s intrusive thoughts about you and Ryusui’s relationship. 

“If you don’t make a move before our charismatic Ryusui, dear Y/N may end up falling for his charm.” 

Senku scoffed. “Yeah, right. Like Y/N is the kind of person to fall for someone as demanding as Ryusui.” But Gen could see the flicker of emotion cross his face. The corners of his mouth turned downward, his eyes widened in alarm, all for a brief second before he composed himself again. The idea makes him nervous, Gen could tell that much, and deep down, Senku hated himself for finding it a little nauseating. 

And so it was that conversation with Gen that made Senku realize that he couldn’t deny his feelings of jealousy any longer. He did everything he could to bury his intrusive thoughts into the farthest parts of his brain, to snuff out the fire that blazed in his chest whenever he worked with you, exchanging witty comments with you, your laugh and your brilliant ideas. But no matter what, he’d find it next to impossible. His feelings for you were already illogical, and he so desperately wished that they would stop piling up on one another, especially during such a crucial time for the Kingdom of Science. 

Again, he cannot help himself. He wasn’t content with simply being by your side anymore. He wanted to be by your side as something more, but seemingly, so did Ryusui.

Poor dude had a million mental battles waging in his head because who cares if he isn’t content? His desperate attempt at pushing down these illogical thoughts and feelings, his refusal to confess- it was all for the sake of the future. Being in a romantic relationship, especially with the Kingdom of Science’s unique circumstances (“unique” as in “rebuilding civilization”), wouldn’t be easy. He wouldn’t want to put strain on you or on the team’s mission. 

Yet again, Senku’s illogical side would come out, but with this thought, it was disguised as logic. Maybe, just maybe, Senku’s feelings and desire to stay by your side as something more was worth a shot if he was even contemplating it. Yup, this was Senku’s logical side. That’s what Senku convinced himself of, anyway. 

-

To Senku’s despair, Ryusui hadn’t shown any sign of backing down from you.

He’d been hoping that the captain would eventually quit his antics, that’d he get busy with his tasks as one of the crew’s leaders, so that Senku’s uncomfortable feelings would also back down and leave him to focus on more important matters. Unfortunately , Ryusui wasn’t the type of person to give up on something. If anything, the two of you had only gotten closer. 

Your curiosity and passion for learning had led you to become intrigued by Ryusui, similarly to how you were interested in Senku’s science knowledge. You would peer at sprawls of maps and other gadgets over Ryusui’s shoulder and ask questions that he gladly welcomed, leaning his head toward yours as he talked to you about different locations on his map. You’d asked him about his life before the petrification, admittedly a little starstruck to be working with a former celebrity, and he’d tell you about Nanami Corp, growing up with his ambition and his desires. As upfront as Ryusui was, you had developed a good friendship with him.

You weren’t oblivious though; you could catch on to Ryusui’s flirting when it came up. Kohaku would nudge you with a smirk whenever she caught the two of you lost in conversation, as if the small act implied that the two of you were something more than friends. You’d only roll your eyes and shoo her away with a laugh, which, from Senku’s point of view, was confirmation that the two of you had mutual romantic feelings for one another. 

You were confronted one night during the crew's voyage to America. A ray of moonlight reflected into the sleeping quarters through open circular windows, small waves crashing against the side of the Perseus. You had been lying on your back in a small compartment with a creaky bed, hair sprawled on your pillow and your hands crossed over your stomach. Looking up, you saw the bottom of Chrome’s bed, a duplicate of yours with the exception that it was only centimeters higher. ‘Bunking with Chrome was a mistake’, you thought to yourself. His constant shifting and snores made it difficult for you to drift off to sleep yourself, and so you had settled with trying to focus your attention on the soothing rocking of the Perseus against the water. 

As you slowly started feeling yourself relax and letting your consciousness drift off for the night, a gentle knocking was heard beside you, forcing your eyes open. At the noise, Chrome murmured and once again turned, the bed creaking with his movement. You sighed and opened your eyes, slowly turning toward the sound. The remains of sleep slowly faded as your eyes  met Senku’s.

 “Senku? Why are you awake…?” 

He was leaning against the side of the wall closest to your lower bunker, alarmed red irises eyeing you up and down and shoulders raised to his ears. He must have moved out of bed and across the room when you had briefly dozed off. He let out a deep exhale and stuck his pinky finger in his ear. “Follow me, okay?”

You blinked. Senku retrieving you in the dead of night while the rest of the crew was asleep was unusual, even for him. He would surely be alerting the ship if there was some sort of impending danger- his voice definitely wouldn’t be so low and airy- so you ruled it out as a possibility. He didn’t look scared, just tense, and you couldn’t figure out why. But you trusted him, and so all you replied with was, “okay”.

You rubbed your eyes as the two of you ascended up the stairs, Senku reminding you to keep a hand on the rail as he led you onto the docks. The late breeze made yours and Senku’s hair and clothing ripple through the air, but you shivered in satisfaction at the refresher. The sleeping quarters were stuffy and cramped, and it felt nice indulging in the coolness of the night. 

Senku didn’t intentionally pick this specific night to talk to you about his feelings, but even he could appreciate the peaceful and slightly romantic atmosphere. The docks were bathed in the full moon’s soft glow, illuminating your figures as if mimicking a stage light. The air was cool against his skin, blowing the hair out of your faces so as to properly gaze at the sparkling sea and into each other's faces. There was no bustling activity, no orders to be given, no plans to continue formulating. It was just the two of you, the twinkling stars above and the quiet splashing of water. This was it. 

After a couple moments of the two of you simply staring ahead, your scientist friend sighed and turned toward you. “So, I may as well make this to the point. You better be awake because I don’t want to repeat myself.” You looked puzzlingly at Senku, who stared at you with a small frown. He looked uncomfortable, and as if he were biting back something important. You searched each other's eyes before Senku suddenly closed his, bringing a hand to his face. “Heh, heh, heh…I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Huh? Doing what?”

He looked up at you and straightened his back, letting his hand fall down to his belt. “I’ve developed romantic feelings for you, Y/N.”

The previous silence fell between the two of you again. You stared at Senku with wide eyes and your mouth half open in shock, your tired brain slowly processing his words. He said it so casually that if you weren’t intrigued by his mysterious invitation, you would’ve missed it. Senku stiffened under your dumbfounded gaze and teared his eyes away from yours. “I’ve come to the conclusion that no matter what, my troublesome feelings pose an inconvenience. I could’ve kept my mouth shut, like I was planning to do, but if I let Ryusui continue with his antics, I might develop some sort of harsh feelings toward the two of you, hindering our abilities to work together.”

Ryusui? Ryusui’s antics? You reflected briefly before your eyes widened in knowing. Senku must’ve caught on to Ryusui’s flirting just as you had. Did that mean,-you could hardly wrap your head around the thought- that Senku was jealous of him?

“But my feelings are already a distraction for me, and a burden onto you. I’m sorry.” 

You couldn’t find the words, so you couldn’t help but continue silently staring at him. You were convinced that this unbelievable night was a weird dream, hardly believing that Senku Ishigami was admitting to having feelings for you.

“I’m…hoping that by telling you, it’ll get rid of these feelings so I can focus on more important things.”

“Why do you want to be rid of your feelings?”

Senku looked caught off guard. It was the first time you had spoken after his confession. “Like I said, they’re a distraction. I can’t focus with them nagging at me. I’m hoping that by confessing, my feelings will go away with the stress of having to keep them to myself lifted off my chest, and I can focus on the mission. I don’t have to be jealous of you and Ryusui, and can leave the two of you alone.” 

That’s right. His feelings will go away and you and Ryusui would be able to pursue your romantic interests in one another without his jealousy nagging at him. Ryusui was a great fit for you- more physically fit than he, and no idiot either. It would all work out. 

“Do you think I…have feelings for Ryusui?” Something about the tremble in your voice irritated him. You looked to be biting back a laugh, as if the question were absurd to even be asking. He was already embarrassed enough by your earlier dumbfounded gaze, but something about you finding him amusing was somehow worse. “Don’t you?” 

You could help but laugh at his deadpan expression and tone, but you quickly composed yourself when he gave you a pointed look. “I don’t have any feelings for Ryusui. He’s intriguing, definitely. Smart, funny, and not bad looking. But, to quote the two of you, I don’t desire him romantically one millimeter.” 

It wasn’t all that evident on his face, but Senku truly was surprised. From how much time you spent together (and how physically close the two of you could get), he was sure that the two of you had something going on. It wouldn’t be his first time falsely predicting someone’s intentions, though. 

“So um…you really want to get rid of your feelings? No exceptions?”

At this question, Senku was visibly surprised. “Exceptions such as?”

“Me liking you back?”

His eyes widened and he searched your face for any trace of it being hypothetical. Of course he considered the possibility of you reciprocating his feelings, but he found it unlikely. He expected rejection, maybe some anger and disgust, but instead you were hinting at the fact that-

“You have feelings for me?” 

“Yeah.”

-

A little into the afternoon the following day, Senku invited Ryusui to talk privately on the docks. He felt that he owed the captain an explanation, with him attempting to pursue you and all. He revealed to Ryusui what he revealed to you that night and what the two of you discussed. 

Senku’s plan was to confess with the intention of getting rid of his romantic feelings entirely, not just his jealousy. But when he found out that you reciprocated his feelings and wanted to try becoming something more than friends, his perspective on the matter shifted. Romance was never something that either of you were very experienced in or knowledgeable about. Sure, Senku could tell you the technicalities of it, but he never found himself longing for a romantic partner until his feelings of jealousy provoked him to think about his relationship with you. Senku’s fears still stood, but he wanted to cave into his illogical side, even if it meant taking some risks. So, the two of you came to an agreement that you wouldn’t officially label yourselves, but let see where your feelings and the journey ahead took the two of you. 

The entire time, Ryusui listened with drawn brows. When Senku finished, Ryusui could only look downward. The lines on his forehead creased together and he smiled a sad sort of smile, an almost knowing smile. After some silence, he spoke. “Above all, I desire Y/N’s happiness, and so if you can give them that, then that’s enough for me.” 

Senku mimicked his expression, keeping his eyes fixed on Ryusui. He straightened a bit when his friend finally met his eyes again. “I never want to see them frowning, you got that, Senku?” 

Senku chuckled. “Loud and clear.”

[stardancerluv]

A Time to Love and To Fight

Part Four

Summary: A stroll in the afternoon….

Warning: None.

Note: Continues to build up in the relationship between Enjolras and Reader. Be nice! Feedback is welcome! Want to be tagged, please let me know!

Ma vaillante fille - My brave girl

Oh merde! - Oh drat!

He needed to find something to eat. A foul mood hung over him.

He should be pleased, everyday new people joined their cause. Obtaining arms and other supplies had hit it a snag. So at the moment, he had no desire to go to the pub. He was rankled enough without hearing people voice their doubts.

Marius become intolerable since meeting his angel. While Grantaire wallowed in drink. To make matters worse, there was a woman who worked in the pub that had. become very attentive. He was convinced that Grantaire or Courfeyrac had paid her enough to try and seduce him up.

To be honest, none of that had ever interested him. The idea of being distracted by formalities of courting or the idea laying with someone was caused great annoyance in him. Feelings were messy. He didn’t care for that mess. Why did one grow up and only have that as the end goal. Making the world better, doing good things should be!

He was grateful his family finally stopped pushing him. They were not terribly happy but he was a man. He was old enough to live the life he desired and make his own decisions.

He sighed. The memories of you, your smile, your laugh; sometimes visited him when he’d try to sleep. He had genuinely been taken with you. There was just something different about you.

You and him were not meant to be. The two of you had responsibilities. Since that night, he had not crossed paths with you. He’d be lying to himself, if he had not caught himself looking a few times to see if he could catch a glimpse of you.

After all this time, he decided that if he were to see you again, to make things better for the two of you, he’d walk away. He’d turn on his heel and perhaps disappear into the shadows.

He had truly enjoyed spending time with you that afternoon with you. A part of him wishes, the two of you would have had more time together.

Surprisingly, right afterward his imagination ran wild and his mind’s eye showed him a possible future. It brought a slight ache to his chest. He swallowed hard.

In the end, he knew the movement; is what was more important. In the end, France would be a better place for everyone, including you. Things like this could not be rushed. Planning had to be done. Actions had to be calculated. Maps had to be drawn on. They would display routes and their crucial locations. All good things came from working hard.

Sighing, he was please to have come upon the marketplace. Walking down one of the aisles of food, he spotted some pears. Eager he went right over to them. Reaching into his pocket, he took a few coins out and slide them across the table. The man who stood behind it smiled, nodded and then swiftly took the coins away.

Looking over the array of pears, he chose a golden one that was kissed with light shades green which was particularly plump. He rubbed it against his coat, and after the first bite; it brought a contented sight from deep within. It was nice and crisp. Holding the edge of his red scarf he dabbed the corners of his mouth. Manners, is what kept men civilized. He kept on walking.

Finishing it after some very placed bites, he continued to look at the tables. He tried to decide whether to buy something else or to head back to his apartment.

Finding a spot, he tossed what remained of the pear. Discretely, he wiped his hands. Pulling, on his cuff be looked ahead of him and everything stopped.

He struggled to grasp onto a breath. He swallowed a few times, but it did little to calm his heart that began to beat harder. There ahead of him, caught of your profile.

He made a face seeing the rather ugly satchel that sat on your shoulder. From what he could tell you were wearing another delicate dress, it clung to your body. He gave a quick glance around. He had to admit relief filled him, when he didn’t see the woman from your household.

Looking back at you, a half smile moved right up the one side of his face in an instant. He watched as your scarf, drifted down and then slipped from resting around your body.

He clenched his hands. His jaw tightened.

******

It was a brisk day, the sky was clear. You brought your scarf tighter around your shoulders. It was a different scarf, you had not been able to set eyes on your blue one since your afternoon in the pub. It had been a terribly long half months time.

Despite loneliness holding you in a tight embrace, your mama was now healthy enough to leave the confines of bedroom and sit in the salon.

At the moment, you were dressed in one of your day dresses. One of the simpler ones. It’s pink color reminded you of some of the flowers you had seen that fateful day. Your heart had frequent pangs when small moments reminded of that day in park and later on in the pub. A part of you desperately wanted to forget.

*****

It was not an incredibly long walk, to the market but it felt good to take a breath of fresh air. You could only go into the garden so much. Once you reached the market, you were actually surprised to see that it was bigger then it had been in recent months. There had been shortages while somethings completely disappeared altogether. The rising cost of prices nagged at you. You had to choose between what you needed and what you wanted.

Since the market had grown in size, you decided to look it all over. Perhaps, you would see something new. It was kind of amusing, to be honest. You weaved in and out of the rows of goods.

As you reached the end, you decided to take a moment with a sigh on your lips. Glancing around you leaned against a wall. Straightening your gloves; you decided on the best route to shop what you needed.

Smiling, you managed to find obtain a small sack of cherries. Perhaps Greta could finally make the doctor his favorite dish with all the ones that were now in your possession.

Before tucking them away, you freed one from its branch. It was a wonderfully plump one that was a deep shade of scarlet. Gently biting into it you licked at the juice. You were careful, making sure it did not escape your lips. You did not wish to make a mess of your dress. It was tart yet with some sweetness. Father had always said the moon and the sun, gave cherries that taste. Such a delight. You were incredibly temped to grab a second, it had been too long since you had even one. But you resisted its pull. The dish Greta would make was well worth the wait

As you continued along the cobblestones, you spotted some straw. You glanced around. With a flush filling your cheeks, you spit out the pit. You were relieved that no one appeared to notice.

Your nose captured the sweet and welcome smell of bread before you left even properly eyed the baker. It made you smile. Drawing close, you saw that they actually had some of your favorite types of bread. Soon, you gave him some coins and they were wrapped up.

“Oh drat!” You exclaimed, stamping your foot. After managing to place the loaves of bread away, your scarf slipped free and fluttered to the ground. Seeing how it fluttered reminded you of leaves in autumn.

“Ma vaillante fille.” A voice spoke behind you.

You knew it. The pain was as fresh as ever in your heart. Almost immediately you were reminded his words to Greta. It felt as if merely yesterday and not a half month’s time. Though knowing he was behind you; happiness began to blossom in you.

Seeing him once again, made the pain sweeten. A smile curled your lips as you saw his.

Squinting, as he looked up at you from where he knelt made your insides flutter.

“I promised you.” Standing up, he laughed and remembering his promise you laughed with him.

He stepped so he was right in front of you. “Allow me.”

“Please.” You barely whispered. Before you could inhale, as his long fingers managed to free you of your satchel from your shoulder and was now on his. As you realized this, gently he wrapped your scarf around you.

Moving your eyes, you looked at him. You were completely swept away by how incredibly handsome he was. The sharp coat was very dashing on him. Underneath, you spotted his soft white shirt and vest, and at his throat was his knotted red scarf.

“Enjolras?” You were feeling dazed with a sprinkling of a confusion. Why was he doing this, you wondered. You finally met his eyes.

He smiled. “I told you I’d keep you safe.”

You rose an eyebrow not sure where you found the ability to reply. “Actually, I do believe that you were referring to my scarves.”

Something entered his eyes you’d never seen before but it intensified the flutters. “Y/N,” He whispered your name. “I meant you.”

You closed your eyes as his fingertips, grazed your temple. You felt as he calmed one of your stray strands.

Opening your eyes, you felt intoxicated. “Really?”

“Yes.”

@aftertheglitterfades @sebastianstvn @dealswiththedevilsblog @randomstory56

[p0orbaby]

Hiya!! I was wondering if I could request a romanoff yn, based around Mother dearest, in that nat gets a call from the school that yn was involved in a fight and nat blames wanda cause since they met she's been a bad influence, so when she gets there she's shocked to see her baby in tears, with barely any injuries, and maybe some of her clothes with rips while wanda has loads (black eye/bloody nose and lip, sprained wrist etc) and it turns out some ppl were bullying yn and she tried to defend herself but there were too many and maybe they were gonna do something horrible but before they could wanda got there and fought them off getting hurt in the process.

And it changes nats views on wanda a lot, especially when she sees a different side of wanda (aka her true side) than the one she's known more of. And maybe nat asks yn to give them some time to talk and she asks why she did all this and wanda admits she's in love with yn and has been too afraid of asking yn out because she knew nat wouldn't approve, and nats like.. well after this you def have and she gives wanda the mum talk before she bring yn over to say wanda has something to ask you ☺

Sorry if this is so long or too specific, I've had this idea since mother dearest, please and thank you and let me know what you think :D

Don’t Hurt Her

Summary - After Natasha gets a call to say you’ve been in a fight, she presumes Wanda is to blame. Yet she changes her tune when a confession is made.

Warnings - Language, Mentions of Injury, Bullying

Authors note - Really liked this request! I’m excited to develop Wanda and readers relationship further!

Word count - 1.3k

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Ever since you were little, Natasha noticed you had fire. You weren’t reckless by any means but you didn’t take shit from anybody. You knew how to stand up for yourself and for others when need be. But you were never aggressive. So when Natasha got a call saying you had gotten into a fight, she was surprised to say the least. Well, that was until she found out Wanda was also involved.

You had become friends with Wanda Maximoff when she moved to the school a year ago, and ever since then you had started to go off track. Your grades had dropped. You went out drinking a lot and your overall attitude had become intolerable. Wanda was a bad influence on you and Natasha had finally had enough.

Natasha had to squeeze the steering wheel of her car to stop her from getting too angry before she heard the full story. Yet her slamming the door in the car park of the school, securing her glares from the faculty who lingered around the area just showed she hadn’t done a very good job at maintaining her composure.

She had been to the head’s office before so she knew the way. Marching through the corridors seemed to become a regular occurance for her of late. Apparently the warning of suspension had not deterred you from getting into more trouble.

Finally reaching the door to the office, she prepared herself to give you a piece of her mind. She never liked to shout at you but this was taking it a step too far. She never brought you up this way.

However upon opening the door and seeing you tear stained cheeks, it was very hard to stay mad at you.

Her not so little girl looked tiny in the big office chair. You had your knees up to your chin and red rimmed eyes from tears. You also didn’t have a scratch on you, and from Natasha’s experience that could only mean one thing. The other party must be sporting injuries.

“Thank you for joining us Miss Romanoff, sorry to interrupt your day” the head addressed as he stood from his chair, reaching to shake Natasha’s hand.

“It’s not a problem” she replied, giving you a glare as she sat down in the chair next to you.

“As I told you on the phone, Y/N got into a fight at lunchtime and we wanted to bring you in to discuss repercussions”

“Of course, anything that will help, I’m all ears”

“I also wanted to apologise for our lack of knowledge about the hard time your daughter was having at this school. We will be having staff seminars to educate ourselves on how to spot the signs of bullying more adequately”

“I’m sorry, did you say bullying? Y/N I swear to God if you’re bulling people you will not live to see your next birthday”

“No Miss, it’s Y/N that’s getting bullied. Sorry if I was unclear, but other students have not been particularly nice to your daughter. As I said we are going to-“

A knock on the door interrupted him. Both you and your mother turned around to see the school nurse escorting Wanda into the room.

“Sorry we’re late, Miss Maximoff had more injuries than originally anticipated. The paramedics said she should be feeling better after the painkillers kick in”

“Not a problem, Wanda take a seat and we can begin”

Wanda had an obvious limp as she made her way to the only empty chair left in the office. She sucked in a breath, wincing as she sat down.

Natasha noticed that you looked over to her, eyes meeting hers in silent communication.

“Y/N” Natasha started. “I thought you and Wanda were friends, why are you getting in fights bad enough to give her a bloody lip and a black eye? And Wanda I’m very sorry for your injuries but my daughter has changed since she has been friends with you. This last year she has been-“

“Stop! God mum, why are you being so rude? If you’d just listen you’d find out what’s actually going on. This was none of Wanda’s fault, if anything she stopped all this shit!”

“Y/N, watch your language please. I know today has been hard but-“

“Oh today’s been hard? What about all the other days where the school hasn’t done anything to help me huh? If it wasn’t for you lot not doing anything, Wanda wouldn’t have to have taken a hit for me”

“She did what?” Natasha was stunned.

“Wanda fought off the group of people that have been bullying me for the past eight months. So no, it wasn’t Wanda that was making me act up, it was those twats and they deserved everything they got” you stood up then, storming out of the room. The blood pumping so hard in your ears you didn’t even hear your mother calling after you.

“Can we have a moment?” Natasha asked the head after a beat.

“Of course, take all the time you need”

-

You could cut the tension with a knife. It wasn’t often that Natasha felt ashamed, yet this situation made her feel just that.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, having to break the silence at some point.

“It’s fine,” Wanda replied, almost as quiet as Natasha.

“It’s not, I blamed you for everything going on without proof it was you. I shouldn’t have done it”

“I would never hurt her. I tried to convince her to talk to you about it but she didn’t want to listen. I’m sorry it got this bad”

“It’s not your fault Wanda, please don’t blame yourself for this. I’m just grateful she has someone looking out for her”

There was silence again. This time it wasn’t filled with tension, but with relief. An understanding between the pair that they had made a truce.

“I don’t know if this is the right time” Wanda started, “but I wanted to ask you something”

“yes of course, anything”

“I was wondering, it’ll it’s alright with you of course, if I’m able to ask Y/N to be my girlfriend?”

The question was unexpected. Not something Natasha would have presumed would come out of the teens mouth under the current circumstances. Yet she couldn’t help but smile.

“I can see you like her very much after what you did today to protect her. Not everyone would risk getting hurt for someone, I would know”

“She’s not just my best friend, it’s stupid but I think she’s the one. I know I’m only sixteen but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s my other half” Wanda’s eyes were glistening. Natasha couldn’t tell if it was from tears of joy or pain from her injuries. Perhaps both.

“You have my blessing if that’s what you’re searching for. After today you’ve shown me you’re more than I thought you were. Judging a book by its cover always fairs negatively, and today has proved that”

“Thank you Miss Romanoff, I’ll treat her good, if she’ll have me”

“I’m sure she will. Now go find her, I’m sure she’s waiting for you”

Natasha followed Wanda out of the office after a timid hug, not wanting to cause Wanda anymore pain.

“Everything okay Miss Romanoff?” The head asked as he stood up from one of the chairs outside his office.

“Yes, for now. I want to have a meeting with the parents of the students bullying Y/N”

“That can definitely be arranged”

“Oh and also, don’t punish Wanda, she’s smart so she knows what she’s doing, don’t punish her to sticking up for her friend”

There was a time when Natasha shuddered at the thought of you growing up and becoming an adult. Today just confirmed that the world was a terrible place. But with Wanda by your side, she knew you’d both face all the hurdles head on. No matter how grown up you get, you’d always be her little girl.

Taglist

@jromanoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @diaryoflife @xxromanoffxx @strangegardentaco

[erwinsvow]

𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

summary: uncle eren comes to visit.

warnings: step-cest, jealousy, manipulation, hints of verbal/emotional abuse + touch of dubcon to con, reader feels guilty, grinding/dry-humping, overstimulation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex

author's note: part two of sole salvation. i really hope everyone enjoys this! the warnings are just to be on the safe side as i do not want to accidentally trigger anyone, please feel free to message me if you want to ask about something before reading.

tagging @sangwoos-mom & @divine-delight :)

If Zeke didn’t want my interest to get piqued, Eren thinks to himself as he watches you stroll away, off to get him to a fresh cup of lemonade, he should have kept his mouth shut.

When his brother had mentioned his new fiancee had a daughter, Eren had supposed it would be some spoiled, bratty kid. After all, he had met your mother once before, and he didn’t think that kind of a woman could raise someone even remotely well-behaved.

So given that, he was more than pleasantly surprised the first time he met you. It was all a shock, from the almost angelic way you float down the stairs to greet him, your soft skin and sweet smile, to the genuine look in your eyes when you tell him that you’re glad to finally meet him.

He still doesn’t know what Zeke did to deserve you in his life, the taste in his mouth a touch too bitter when he watches the way you look at his brother, even when your mom is in the same room. It’s dreamy, as though there’s no better way to spend your time and nothing better to think about than your step-father.

It’s a little unfair, Eren thinks, that Zeke has a sweet, doting little thing head over heels for him. It’s a little unfair that Zeke waited so long to invite him over, to introduce him to you. Maybe it was brotherly instinct, maybe he knew that once Eren met you, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else, just like it had been for Zeke.

Regardless of what it was, Eren knew one thing for certain. Sibling should always share.

It finally takes an unbearable conversation on the phone with your mother for an excuse, an opportunity to arise. The lie is taking hold in his head and spilling out of his mouth before he can even control it—“Yeah, the pipes burst and it’s just a mess, I called Zeke but his phone’s off- no, really? Just for the weekend, I promise- thank you, I’ll be over soon.”

His bag is packed and cock is twitching at the idea of getting you alone in that house, maybe when Zeke’s locked away in his office and your mother’s out shopping. It’s going to be a hot week, with almost intolerable heat, and he’s positive it’ll have you in revealing clothes (no doubt ones that his brother bought for you) and teensy swimsuits when you go for an afternoon swim.

That’s what he’s thinking of—the image of you soaked to the bone, wet hair and the thin, dripping material of your suit sticking to your skin—when he pulls into your driveway later that day.

It’s almost easy enough to miss the slight wobble in your steps, the way your clothes are just a little too wrinkled for someone that’s been sitting around the house all day.

But Eren notices it, of course, and doesn’t miss the way Zeke practically keeps one eye on you the entire day, no matter who he’s talking to, either.

Maybe if Eren was just a drop stupider, a bit less cunning, you and Zeke could get away with all of it, but he’s not. He thinks it’s his turn to have his fun with you.

Your mother’s even more intolerable than he remembers. He wonders how bad a family dinner could be, but this is much worse than he could have fathomed. It’s a whole host of things, like how she’s oblivious to the affair happening right under her nose and her small comments that have your lips trembling and eyes blinking away tears before they can fall.

Jeez. Eren had initially felt bad for himself, but he’s starting to wonder how you put up with it. Maybe fucking around with Zeke is your own way of getting revenge, payback for every ‘Why do you look so tired, it’s not like you’re the one working all day’ and ‘Don’t you have plans with friends, or are you just gonna bother your parents all day?’

By the time dinner ends, you’ve made your way to the kitchen almost automatically, putting away dishes and wiping counters without even being told, as Zeke gives your mother a cold, hard stare.

“Was all that really necessary?” his brother questions quietly, eyes fuming with anger yet still disguising his true reason for being upset.

“What?” your mother responds innocently, pretending as though she hadn’t said anything wrong. Eren watches the interaction carefully. He thinks it’d be better if he didn’t interject on a married couple’s little spat, but here he goes again, words out before he can control them. They’re spoken a bit louder than they needed to be, but he wants to make sure you hear them over the running water.

“I don’t know, she seems like a good girl to me, no? Maybe you should be easier on her.”

And a few feet away, in the kitchen, your heart skips a beat. Uncle Eren—who you’d only met once and heard about a handful of times, someone who doesn’t owe you anything, someone not even really related to you—defending you?

It was enough to make tears rush to your eyes again, a smile on your face as you rinse off the dishes.

Good girl. The words run through your head again, seemingly on repeat. They’re your two favorite words, enough to pick you up from the dark, sullen headspace you’re in as a result of your mother’s cruel phrases and Zeke’s stinging silence.

Zeke claims it’ll become too obvious, even to your clueless mother, if he always takes your side and speaks up for you, despite how much he wants to, he says. You’re so hopelessly gone, so devoted to him that you don’t think you have it in you to fight for it. The words he says when the two of you are alone, how he makes you feel and spoils you rotten makes up for it, right?

That’s what you’d been telling yourself all this time, but you’re not sure how much longer you can keep the act going. Does he think it’s easy to watch him walk into the bedroom he shares with your mother every night? To watch her kiss him goodbye, hold onto his arm in public, while you trail behind like a lost puppy?

It’s not actually revenge you’re aiming for, when you start greeting Eren in the morning brightly, walking straight on over to him in the living room rather than the kitchen where your step-father is. It’s closer to a plea for attention, like you’re waiting for Zeke to realize you can play at this game too.

Eren��s more than happy to indulge you, spending hours of the day beside you on the couch watching movies, or watering the lawn while you work on your garden, claiming that he just wants to help out around the house as much as he can. His weekend-long visit turns into a week, as the ‘good for nothing contractors are taking their sweet time.’

It’s terribly easy to make you believe every word he’s saying, with you even defending him when Zeke asks how much longer he’s planning on sticking around.

“He’s family,” you had argued valiantly, leaving your step-father with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw as he noticed Eren smiling behind you. For once, your mother had agreed with you, and Zeke was left with no choice.

It’s sunny and warm when Eren’s opportunity, the one he’s been waiting for patiently, appears. Your mother’s gone out again, this time to the salon, there’s that hour of time right after she’s left that you usually treasure, because you know there’s no chance she’ll be on her way back or call home.

It’s usually your favorite time of the day, when you know you can have Zeke all to yourself, and that’s what you’re thinking, when you hesitantly make your way to the door of his office.

Truly, you hadn’t meant to make Zeke angry, you just wanted to be there for Uncle Eren how he was there for you. You were ready to make up and forget about it now, dolled up in a new sundress that you hadn’t gotten a chance to wear yet. Zeke had bought it only weeks ago, before Uncle Eren’s sudden visit, and you thought he might like it if you wore it now.

Your hand has just reached the cool metal of the doorknob, just about to twist when you hear a ringing from inside the room, of Zeke’s phone going off.

You step back, knowing better than to interrupt one of his calls. You’re disheartened a little, mind wondering why he would schedule something when you and he both know this is your hour, your chance to be alone.

You make your way back downstairs, lingering on the last step and thinking about going back up in a few minutes, when Uncle Eren’s voice calls to you from the living room, making you jump a little.

“Oh, sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, voice calm and quiet, a contrast to your thudding heart.

“That’s okay, Uncle Eren,” you say, and your head turns back to look in the direction of Zeke’s office inadvertently. “I was just-”

“Waiting for Daddy, huh?” Your lips part a little in surprise, confused by his implication. Though surely, Zeke wouldn’t have told Uncle Eren anything. No, he wouldn’t do that.

Right?

“I-I just needed to ask him something, but I think he’s on the phone with someone,” you say quietly, confused at Eren’s tone, the confidence with which he spoke those words, almost mockingly.

“Oh, yeah. He told me he’s busy all afternoon, something or other about work and a report-” Eren stops himself right when he notices your expression change, looking thoroughly upset that Zeke was busy when you were ripe for the taking. “He didn’t tell you about that?”

Fuel to the fire, maybe a bit too much, but Eren doesn’t care. Not as long as you keep it up, looking like a maimed little prey upon realizing that Daddy was too busy for you.

Yes, Eren was getting much better with the lying. It doesn’t even register to you to question his words, to go back up and double check, that Zeke might, in fact, be waiting for you to knock on his door at this very second.

Your feet find their way to the sofa, slumping down dejectedly, as Eren sits right next to you. It’s the way you two have been sitting for the past week, except he’s ready to take the risk. His hand finds your knee, thumb rubbing the soft skin as you let out a shaky breath, wiping away a stray tear.

“All afternoon?” comes your quiet voice, trembling at the mere notion that Zeke was upset with you. You hadn’t meant to take it this far, hadn’t thought he would be ignoring you just because you disagreed with something he said for the first time.

But your sadness is turning into something different when you look at the hungry, almost predatory way Uncle Eren is looking at you now.

“That’s what he said, sweetheart. Did you two have plans, or something?” It’s coming off nonchalant, or so he hopes, because every bone in his body is excited at the prospect before him, blood rushing to his hardening cock as he catches a glimpse of your exposed skin as you fiddle with the hem of your dress.

“N-no, I just… He always spends time with me when mom leaves. I just thought he would be free.”

It’s the sweet, lonely way you’re looking into his eyes, your own doe-like and watery, that tips him over the edge.

“Well, I can keep you company.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, baby. A sweet thing like you shouldn’t be left all alone… it’s not right, well, at least to me.”

“Yeah?” Eren nods his head, line between his lies and the truth blurring suddenly as you inch closer and closer to him.

“I wouldn’t treat you like that, if you were mine, you know-” and he can’t finish his sentence, because your hands are on the collar of his shirt and you’re shifting onto his lap, and your lips are on each other.

It’s stupid, you know, to be so easily guided by a few choice words, putty in virtually anyone’s hands if they say the right things and make you feel seen and heard, but you can’t stop now.

Eren’s tongue is in your mouth, your lips practically glued together as you feel his hands go under the soft cotton of your dress, exploring the supple skin of your thighs. It’s not long before his hands find your ass, squeezing and groping as moan into his mouth.

A sharp slap to your ass makes you yelp, pulling away for just a second before Eren’s hand is on the back of your neck, guiding you into a kiss again. You moan again, louder, when his teeth bite down on your lip just a little bit, when Eren finally pulls away.

“Can’t be too loud, remember, sweetheart? Daddy’s busy upstairs,” he says, somehow knowing exactly what would rile you up. The words act like a little shock running through your system, making you even more eager for Eren’s touch.

“Don’t care-!” you mewl, head going fuzzy when you feel Eren’s hard cock grind against your core, waves of pleasure rushing through your body. You’re still, Eren’s hand coming up to cover your mouth as he continues his rocking movement, making you moan against his hand.

Your eyes roll back when Eren increases his speed, and it’s silly, how the barely-there contact is making you shake, the coil in your stomach tense and unwinding, when Eren stops completely.

You whine loudly, muffled some by his hand, but not entirely, causing Eren to spank you again.

“I thought you were a good girl, hm? Don’t get bratty on me now,” he says, though he thinks it went in one ear and out the other as you come down from your incomplete high.

“I want-I want you, Uncle Eren, now-!” Another whine, another spank. You cry out again, until the fourth slap—which leaves your ass sore already from Eren’s heavy-handedness—silences you.

“Sweetheart, stop misbehaving or you’re not gonna get anything, okay?” he coos, fingers finding your chin and directing your face to look him in the eyes. They’re lust-blown too, and his hardness is still evident underneath your body, but your body’s inclined to follow his rules, despite how badly you want to cum.

“Yes, Uncle Eren,” you say softly, your squirming body finally stopping. Eren’s fingers find their way to the thin straps of your sundress, pulling them until they rest on your shoulder and expose your neck and collar to him.

“Tell me something, baby, did you wear this for me? Or for him?” The very mention of Zeke makes your body stiffen, but you’re still desperate for more and eager to please Uncle Eren.

“For you,” you mumble, wanting to just bury your head in the crook of Eren’s neck and feel him inside you, though you know you won’t get what you want that easily.

“Me? I’m so honored,” he says, letting out a laugh at how your body shakes in anticipation but you stay completely still. He wonders if Zeke had to teach you to be this obedient, or if it just comes to you naturally.

He thinks it’s the latter when he rolls his hips quickly, watching you squirm and bite your lip hard to keep quiet, another rush of pleasure coursing through you, though it’s not nearly enough.

“It’s okay, baby, you’ve been good enough to me, haven’t you?” he asks, and you nod your head quickly. “You deserve to feel good, don’t you?” You nod again and let out a shaky breath when Eren moves your hips with his hands, finally giving you the much-needed pressure on your clit.

“Why don’t you cum for me, baby, just like this? Mmh?” You’re letting out little squeals at each contact, hips moving faster and faster as Eren lays back and lets you use his cock as a toy to grind against. His head falls back at how good it feels, though he won’t let himself cum until he’s inside you.

You’re close again, stomach tensing again and that familiar feeling gathering inside your chest, making you feel warm all over as you speed up.

The breaking point is when Eren’s hands come to your chest, pulling down your dress and exposing your tits to the cool air. His fingers pinch one while his mouth finds the other, and suddenly you can’t keep quiet no matter how hard you try, moans spilling out your mouth as well as repeated cries of Uncle Eren, that sound sweet as sugar to Eren.

It’s when Eren starts bucking his hips up too, that you finally cum, a bolt of pleasure running through your entire body as he keeps going. You’re not entirely sure what kind of noises you’re making—everything seems to be muted and fuzzy as repeated shocks make you shake, Eren’s firm grip on your tits being the only thing that’s grounding you.

When you finally come down, forcing yourself away from Eren’s lap and legs pressed tightly together to calm your oversensitive cunt, there’s a lecherous look in Eren’s eyes. It’s screaming to you, silently, how he’s not done with you yet.

“Aw, baby, look how fast you came just from a little bit of humping. Are you that desperate, bunny? Is Daddy not taking care of you?”

Your face feels like it might be on fire, blood and heat rushing at the same time and burning quickly with shame at the realization that Eren knew all along, that he’s been playing this little game with you since his arrival and you never, not once, had the upper hand.

He feels more predatory than ever before, spreading your legs despite how your legs ache and your core is burning—even if you wanted more, you don’t think you could take it—but it doesn’t seem like Eren cares.

“U-uncle Eren, we shouldn’t- h-he might-” you start, but are cut off as Eren presses a finger to your lips.

“Sweetheart, isn’t that a little unfair? If you get to cum, and I don’t? Be a good girl and spread for me,” he says, and you feel your body comply automatically.

Your back’s on the couch now, Eren hovering over you. All it would take is a few steps in this direction after coming down the stairs for someone to find you, but you can hardly care when Eren’s shoving your dress up, exposing your panties and shoving them to the side, your wetness on display for him.

“One day, baby, when Daddy’s not here, I’m gonna fuck you stupid with my tongue—just not today,” and the words go straight to your head. Your heart thuds uncomfortably in your chest every time he mentions Zeke, a sense of guilt washing over you and replacing the pleasure you feel, but you forget all about it when you see Eren undos his pants and take out his hardened cock.

It’s plainly wrong to compare it to Zeke’s, and though it might not be longer, it’s definitely thicker, not as pretty but covered in throbbing veins that you can’t even imagine feeling inside you.

Eren’s about to grant your wish, running his cockhead over your sensitive clit once, twice, and just as you're expecting a third, he pushes inside of you.

A strangled, loud moan escapes your lips before he can cover your mouth again. It’s agonizing, not being able to make a sound as your step-uncle fucks you into the couch, movements picking up and a steady pace filling the room with obscene noises. You can’t see where the two of you are connected, since your eyes are locked with Eren’s pretty green ones, but you know you’re making a mess.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, every thrust stretching you out, you think he’s ruined your cunt for anyone else—but that’s exactly what he wants.

It’s silent, save for the heavy patter of Eren’s balls against your ass with each thrust, the sound of his hips knocking with yours. He’s trying to keep his grunts silent, but it’s getting harder and harder with the way you’re clenching around him, so tight and wet and soft, he wonders what his brother did to deserve someone like you—he wonders why he doesn’t spend every minute inside you.

Your sensitive cunt tightens around him, knowing only another few strokes and grazes on your clit will be enough to tip you into your second orgasm. Your shaky hand finds Eren’s, pulling his wrist away from your face and meeting his lips again, releasing muffled moans into his mouth.

You know he’s close too, from the way his pace picks up, and you pull away just for a second, just to say three words.

“Please, Uncle Eren.”

And it’s enough to make his hips stutter, enough to uncoil the knot in your tense stomach and have your orgasm washing over you, as you feel Eren fill your cunt with his hot cum. Your lips are on each other, the lewd squelching of his slowing thrusts matching the small squeaks you release, until he finally pulls out and your panties snap back over your leaking cunt.

It’s hard to catch your breath, from your position laying down, feeling your tight hole throb and Eren’s cum spill out, probably onto the sofa seat. You adjust the top of your dress, covering your tits and pulling one strap up. When you’re fixing the skirt, you feel Eren’s hands pull the other strap onto your shoulder, hands lingering on your exposed skin.

You shy away from looking at him, despite how his cum is still inside you. It feels too intimate, almost, because a part of you thinks you were taken advantage of, and another part of you doesn’t ever want Eren to leave you.

Eren’s fingers find your chin, forcing you to look up and meet his gaze. You blink quickly, licking your swollen lips and biting the inside of your cheek nervously.

Neither of you speak, though you know what’s lingering in the air. You can tell he’s gotten what he wanted, and he’s going to leave, and yet you can’t stop yourself from speaking first, throat scratchy and dry and your words nothing more than a whisper.

“C-can I… did you- did you mean all those things you said? Before?”

And suddenly Eren understands everything, why you’re this way, why you need to be validated so badly, why his brother’s such a good match for you. He thinks he’d sacrifice anything too, like his marriage and a new life, just to make you happy.

“Of course I did, sweetheart. I meant every word of it.”

“Really?” There’s a soft smile on your lips, your eyes watery and he thinks it doesn’t have anything to do with how hard he fucked you.

“Yeah, I-”

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeke’s voice comes from behind you.

[rainsoughtflowers]

i promised you the moon (may the stars remember us) -> 1k follower event !

‘it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the persisting emotion squeezing the heart. several attempts had been made, however all proved to be futile at the sight of blood accompanying the first cough. a bitter laugh, or perhaps a few stray tears, became apparent knowing the root of the upcoming disease. the lines and dips along the expanse of their expression, the chime of their laugh and the gentle brush of skin bare against the other. and yet, how did one witness the stars, and become infatuated with the lovely being, only for them to form the petals nurturing in the lungs?’

characters !

genshin impact (kazuha, venti, aether, xiao, thoma, albedo, scaramouche)

squid game (sae-byeok)

assassination classroom (karma akabane)

seraph of the end (mikaela hyakuya)

sweet home (eun-hyuk)

demon slayer (giyuu, muichirou, tanjirou)

genres !

hurt/comfort

angst

fluff

prompts !

pear blossom -> a series of words uttered under shooting stars, promising a lifetime worth of companionship. oh how the syllables seemed trapped on the tongue, knowing that not all dreams could come true.

aconite -> intolerable. aggravating. any word along those lines could be used to describe the other. it wasn’t until one realizes that the blood on their hands belongs not to themself, but the person who suddenly stopped their quarreling fights, that not all words had been used.

blue salvia -> a shaky breath, the first one since the flowers had been nurtured to full bloom. and yet one could have no regrets, even as the thorns continued to prick and the petals began to wilt.

forget me not -> soulmates, bound by fate and created by the universe itself. perhaps a mistake, a flaw in the system, could be found amongst the blood stained hands.

daffodil -> a single one, graced by fingertips that shake with the sobs racking their body. it’s quickly followed by the scene of one hacking into their hands, despising the image of their lover with another.

red carnation -> clocks ticking, running out of time. they can practically hear death knocking at their door, beginning to pray for just a moment longer.

red tulips -> the aches that come from wishful thinking, and the longing for something more than what had been given. perhaps just a few words would be enough to change the course of what fate has brought upon them.

purple hyacinth -> the world in which used to be viewed through a kaleidoscope dimmed, faded in the vision one utilized to see. what brought upon it? the wheezing breaths leaving through cracked lips, or the undeniable fact that the reciprocated feelings from their lover was no more?

anemone -> it was as if a cruel joke were being played, perhaps even a punishment for confessions far too late. what could one do to mend the blood splattered petals when the solution had far passed the barrier between life and death?

pink camellia -> the definition of pining and cluelessness frustrating beyond belief, along with weeks flowing into months of decaying corpses blind to the other’s own suffering.

example !

kazuha + pear blossom + angst

thank you all for 1k+ followers! it means the world to me that i’ve been gifted so much support, and i appreciate each and every one of you. please enjoy this event, and i hope to see lots of participation. only 15 spots are available, and each prompt will be a short drabble pertaining to that character. in your request, please specify which character has hanahaki.