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revasserium · 10 months ago

Note

hiii i'm a new follower and i love your writing so much

ik u said no requests in ur bio but i just finished reading ur sanji fic.. so even if ur still not taking requests i'd just like to throw in an idea that u may or may not feel like using in the future, up to you (i'm requesting this with opla sanji in mind but if u wanna use it for zoro that's cool too)

k so imagine reader being invited to a friend's wedding, & being excited to go until they find out their ex is coming too (with their partner of some amt of yrs). so now reader is pressured to bring someone w/ them & ends up asking their best friend sanji bc they don't want others thinking they're still hung up on the past.

wedding dress

opla!sanji; 6,544 words, pining with a happy ending, fluff and a tad of angst, flirting, lovesick!sanji, whipped!!!!sanji, no "y/n", zeff is a whole mood, confessions, sanji-appropriate nickname usage, modern!au?

summary: you invite sanji to be your plus 1 at a wedding

a/n: im so sorry this took so long. but. better late than? never? also, there is a tiny bit of rehashing for ep 6 of the live action for sanji and zeff's relationship so... spoilers?

It’s a chilly, overcast kind of day when the call comes in. And in retrospect, Sanji thinks he should’ve known better when he’d seen your name on the caller ID. He’d hesitated, because by god if it wasn’t his New Year's Resolution to get the hell over you this year, but it’s almost December again and he still can’t help the way his heart races at the sound of your voice.

“Hey sweetheart — long time no talk!” he answers after a brief moment of contemplating his entire life, dusting his flour-covered hands on his apron.

“Hey! Sorry for calling so… out of the blue…” your voice is still as sweet as ever, and the way his stomach twists at the tinkle of your nervous laughter makes him want to kick himself. Still, he forces himself to stay calm, clearing his throat as he checks the oven — it’s almost done pre-heating.

“Now you know what I said about actin’ a stranger — just because you moved halfway across the entire world doesn’t mean we ain’t best friends anymore, right?”

It’s what you’d said when he’d been standing at the airport, three seconds from dropping to his knees and begging you not to go. But he hadn’t, because he knew how hard you’d worked for this — for this opportunity abroad, to study art in the birthplace of the Renaissance itself, in the heart of Italy.

“And… you might be able to come visit me, right?” you’d said, rocking on the balls of your feet, your eyes full of what Sanji could only call false hope — which is always, always the worst and most painful kind.

Sanji had swallowed and nodded and said something or other about Europe and fine dining, but there’s a terrible, prickling heat eating up the back of his neck and a voice that’s screaming at him to pull you to him and kiss you. He doesn’t. And he regrets it to this day.

“Ah — right… I’m actually calling because… I’ll be in the area in about a week and…”

Your voice pulls him out of his reverie and he clears his throat, hitches a smile to his face that he knows you can’t see but he’s sure you can hear.

“Oh! That’s great, darling! You’ve gotta come for a drink, I’ll whip up all your favorites — we can make a night —”

“It’s actually for a wedding.”

There are a few moments in everyone’s lives when they learn the true meaning of a thing for the very first time — elation, pride, stomach-twisting guilt, and… fear. True fear, the kind of fear that shakes the muscle from your bones and sends them tingling, threatens to overwhelm you with numbness. Fear, that pushes adrenaline through you like a drug, forces the world into a terrifying, all-consuming focus.

Sanji feels the fear coursing through him, wild and contentious at your words.

A wedding.

Your wedding? Perhaps?

He can’t bear to think of it; he’s so terrified he can barely breathe.

Then comes the moment after, the wave of everything else that the fear had washed away — confusion, anger, guilt (always guilt, for some reason), because isn’t he supposed to be happy for you? For you, the person he loves most in this entire world, to find love, to know happiness. He should. He should.

“Oh.”

Sanji sags back against the hard, metal counter. Almost mindlessly, he reaches into his pockets with shaking hands, digging around for a smoke.

Your breath is soft in his ear, too far across the phone line and a thousand miles of ocean.

“I originally wasn’t even planning on going — she’s not a very close friend — we had like one class together but —”

And within the span of a minute, Sanji also learns relief. The kind that melts the world around you into sizzling butter and champagne bubbles. The kind that makes you want to lie down on the ground and scream.

“— it was so close to your restaurant so I said yes but I didn’t know he was gonna be there and —”

You’re still talking, rambling like you do. And it takes nearly everything inside Sanji to pull himself back to the conversation.

“Sorry, love, who did you say was gonna be there?”

“My ex — you know the one —”

Sanji grimaces, flicking on his lighter with still-shaking fingers.

“Mm, yeah I do. The tall, dark-haired bastard who —”

“Yeah well — he’s gonna be there too and I just —” he hears you swallow hard and take a long, steadying breath. An unnameable something is calcifying in the depths of his stomach as he waits for you to collect yourself.

Curiosity? Why had you called like this, so suddenly, about a wedding where your ex was going to be? Concern? Were you thinking of going back to him?

But slowly, as you stutter through your next few words, the unnameable thing obtains a name — dread.

“— I just don’t think I could do it myself, y’know? And — and you were the one who got me out of it wh-when I decided to break it off with him so…”

Sanji takes a long drag of his cigarette and casts his eyes up at the high, white-slabbed ceiling of the kitchen, scored with long strips of bright, fluorescent lighting that floods the entire room in a direct, unforgiving glow.

He closes his eyes and counts to three.

“Course I’ll come with you, darlin’. It —” he wets his lips, taps off a bit of ash from his cigarette, and sucks in through his nose, clearing his throat of the words still lodged there, “— it’d be my honor.”

Relief — he hears it in your voice, and by gods he can almost see it — the way your whole face would light up, washed as if by the setting sun, your eyes wide and dark, your cheeks flushing his favorite fucking shade of pink and —

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really owe you for this one —”

Sanji makes a valiant effort at a nonchalant chuckle; it comes out sounding like a dog with a bit of bone stuck in its throat instead.

“Nonsense — what are best friends for, anyway?”

There’s a tiny pause where Sanji can feel the words best friend scraping along the insides of his mouth, barbed and harsh, leaving his tongue feeling raw and metallic.

“You really are the best friend anyone could ask for,” your voice is soft and honest and Sanji wants nothing more than to chuck his phone into the industrial blender.

You tell him that you’ll send him the details, that you can’t wait to see him soon, that you’ve got a world and a half of catching up to do, that you’ll buy him so, so many drinks, and that you’ll come bearing presents. He laughs at the right times, makes soft noises of consent and agreement, and when finally, finally you tell him goodbye, he clicks off the phone and takes another long drag of his smoke.

And then, he whips his hand back and throws the cigarette butt into the large sink, where it tinks against the metal and sizzles sadly in the murky dishwater.

“Real sucker for punishment, aren’tcha, lil’ eggplant?”

Sanji groans, turning around to find Zeff with his arms folded, the hip to his bad leg propped against a counter.

“Will you fuck kindly off — can’t you see I’m going through a thing here?”

Zeff snorts, clunking unevenly towards him.

“You been going through that thing for the last year and a half since you chickened outta askin’ her to stay so —”

“I didn’t chicken out — I — it was her dream to go to Florence and study —”

“And what was your dream then, ey?”

Sanji bangs his palm against the counter and sighs, “It’s not like I could leave you here with —”

“With what? A thriving restaurant business that I started? A guest list out the door and round the corner —”

“I — I helped!”

Zeff rolls his eyes, “Ah sure ya did, but I never asked you to, did I?”

Sanji huffs, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the torrent of horrible, sad, acrid things he could say and could never mean, so he swallows them back down. When he looks up next, Zeff is still standing there, but there’s a softness around his eyes.

He opens his mouth a few times, but eventually, all he says is, “The oven’s over heatin’.”

Sanji swears and jumps up to tug open the oven door. A wave of hot air whooshes out and nearly catches him in the face. Behind him, he can hear Zeff’s dark, gravelly chuckle, and the dull clunk of his wooden leg.

“You burn the kitchen down, you pay for it.”

And then he’s gone again, leaving the door swinging behind him, and Sanji very much alone with the too-hot oven and a counter full of things he can’t really remember the recipes for anymore.

Nearly a week later, Sanji finds himself standing at the airport, rocking on the balls of his feet, nearly in the exact same place as he’d been a year and a half prior. Except this time, you’re not walking away from him. You’re walking back towards him. He wonders if there’s a name for deja-vu in reverse and comes to the realization that that’s just called… a memory.

And memory seems to work in strange ways now, images superimposing themselves on top of one another — the flicker of a film lens, the bat of an eyelash, the shadow of a smile crimping the corner of your lips. All of this, he sees in the here and now, but he sees it in the air around you too, shimmering and mirage-like — all his memories and dreams of you layered over the shape of you. Your memory like a ghost of itself, trailing behind you as you walk towards him, a shy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed from travel and the cold and —

He doesn’t let himself hope. Not this time.

“Hey!” your voice is just as bell-like as he remembers it, pitched a little higher than it usually is, probably out of nervousness. But it still feels like a kick to the guts. Sanji forces himself to smile.

“Hi, love,” he says, leaning down as you reach him, but the motion aborts halfway because — is it still appropriate to hug you like he’d always done? To press his lips to your cheek or your hairline and revel in the bright citrus of your shampoo, to soak in the butter and cream of your skin like he used to?

There’s an awkward half-second pause before you’re standing up on tip-toe and Sanji’s heart nearly drops out of his ass as you lean in. But then — your lips skim by his cheek and your arms are around him, and stupid, stupid, stupid heart — thundering in his chest like horses or hooves or fists or thumping rabbit’s feet — leaping into his throat and pattering against the base of his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. But it’s not close enough. It’s never close enough.

He breathes and distantly, a part of him notes that you still use the same shampoo.

“Hi…” your voice is warm by his ear, a bit muffled, but he can’t help the way it makes him shiver, “It’s… so good to see you.”

He nods, not trusting his own voice to do the normal thing and, oh, you know — work.

“I’ve — I’ve missed you.”

He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough as he nods again. He feels your arms slackening around him and a fierce, terrifying thing is flapping its wings in his stomach, screeching at him not to let you go. But he does — like he did before.

“I — I missed you too,” he says, though his voice sounds flat and scratchy and he clears his throat again.

A dozen different expressions flicker across the lovely planes of your face and finally, it settles on endeared exasperation.

“Please don’t tell me you still work through like three packs of smokes a day.”

Sanji laughs then, shaking his head as he reaches over for your luggage, “Nah — well, maybe not three but —”

You whack him softly on the arm.

“I actually tried to quit right after you left.”

“You did?”

Sanji shrugs as the pair of you start to make for the exit. He feels your gaze go slanted and shrewd.

“How long’d that last?”

He smirks, “Few hours.”

You whack him again and this time, he dodges out of the way just to bask in the bright spark of your laughter as you chase after him.

“Seriously though, you know how terrible they are for you!”

“Sure do,” he says, tugging one out of his pocket as soon as he clears the airport doors, pivoting left towards the parking garage. You have to jog to keep up with his longer strides, your breaths misting the air between you in silvery puffs.

He makes no move to light it as he helps toss your luggage into the trunk of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat. You huff as you wiggle into the passenger’s side.

“Then why —”

Sanji waits patiently for you to buckle your seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting soft against the middle console. He slates you a glance.

“Cause,” he says, fixing his eyes back on the road, an easy smirk twisting his lips, “it’s a metaphor.”

You groan, sinking into the seat, “Just because you read John Green one time —”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I read his entire bibliography after you showed him to me.”

“Ugh, whatever you manic-pixie-dreamgirl-loving ass.”

“Yeah, whatever — you actual manic pixie dreamgirl.”

You smile and Sanji allows himself the brief and aching delusion that the past year and a half didn’t happen, that you never left, and that you’d never leave. That you’d always be here, warm and laughing and just within reach.

The rest of the car ride is spent in mundane conversation, in how was your flight and tell me about Florence and how’s Zeff doing these days and I wanna know about your latest dish. It’s light and easy, and Sanji lets it warm the air around him. By the time he pulls into the front of your hotel, all the unsaid words from the past year and a half have soaked through his socks and into his shoes. It sloshes out onto the pale pavement as he opens the car door.

He helps you roll your luggage up into the lobby and tells you he’ll be here at 3PM to pick you up tomorrow. The venue’s just three blocks away.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” you say, pursing your lips, waving as he backpedals towards the automatic doors.

“You’ve still gotta send me pictures of the dress you’re wearing — I gotta find a matching tie.”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed, “Right — and here I thought I might surprise you.”

Sanji freezes, eyes wide.

“O-oh! Er — well, you can just — just tell me what color or —” he waves vaguely, “send a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against —”

You nod, eyes glittering, eager once more, “Oh! That’s a good idea — I’ll do that.”

“Great,” Sanji says.

“Great!” you echo, perhaps a bit too chipper.

He gives you one last smile before turning and striding from the hotel, firing up the engine as calmly as he can, forcing himself not to turn and check if you’re still watching him through the brightly lit, sliding glass doors. He allows himself a glance through the rear-view mirror as he pulls away from the drive and his heart skips a beat when he realizes you’re still standing there, right in the middle of the lobby, fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, your eyes fixed on the shadow of his retreating car.

He lights the smoke the second he turns the corner, your shadow no longer in his rear-view mirror.

That night, Sanji dreams in fits and leaps, flashing images and long, sticky streams of could-have-beens —

He dreams of your laughter in a white-tiled kitchen, of powdered sugar and eggshells cracked and leaking on an exposed wood counter, chopsticks clinking against a thick glass mixing bowl. He dreams of your voice echoing off the shower tiles as you sing off-key, the way you used to when you’d sneak into his college dorm for movie night and a midnight snack. He dreams of coffee mugs and errant rose petals and dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. He dreams of dancing with you in his arms in a darkened dorm room that morphs into a bigger room with a softer carpet, one that he’d never seen before but he knows implicitly (like bodies know) is his home — it has pictures on the walls, trinkets lining the far bookshelf, your favorite scarf draped over the back of the well-worn sofa.

In the dream, you pull your head back from where it's pillowed against his shoulder and smile up at him. He leans down to kiss you, his lips hovering half an inch from yours.

Sanji jerks awake to the sound of his alarm, fingers fumbling for his phone, groaning as he smashes the orange snooze button and flips over to bury his face back into his lumpy pillow.

“Ah… fuck.”

It’s not the first time he’s had that dream, and he knows it won’t be the last. But it’d been so real that night, real enough to make him wonder if it just might come true.

He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes and peers blearily at all the notifications on his screen. There’s a text from you with a picture attached. He clicks it open to find a short message attached to the picture — I really did want to surprise you…

He blinks for three seconds at what looks like a blurry picture of studded black silk before he remembers —

“Send me a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against.”

He allows himself a laugh, swinging his feet out of bed even as he types back — you coulda just told me it was black…

He watches the three little dots appear and disappear a few times, chewing on his bottom lip, before the text appears — well there are different shades of black, right???

Sanji laughs, shaking his head.

sure there are.

A string of tongue-out emojis, followed by an equally long string of middle-finger emojis.

He spends the rest of the morning fussing over which specific black tie to wear before settling on one that he’s quite sure is the exact same shade of black as your dress (and yes, he does have quite the collection of black ties), before tugging his best suit out to press.

It shouldn’t feel so easy, slipping back into the rhythm of things, of texting and smiling and hearing your voice in his head when he reads your texts. It shouldn’t feel so easy to forget the months of radio silence and guilt, the oppressive, resonant weight of what might have been if either of you had done a single thing different that day at the airport — he wonders if he should’ve reached for your hand, he wonders if you’d ever looked back.

He hadn’t. He couldn’t let himself.

He is waiting for you in the lobby at 2:45, wearing a hole into the plush Persian carpet, collecting strained looks from the concierge who had assured him three times in the last four minutes that he’d already rung up to your room and that you’d said you were on your way.

“Wow, you’re early — sorry I took a while — I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hair and —“

Sanji lifts his head and thinks distantly that all those rom-com cliches of a guy looking up, time itself slackening, the room smearing sideways around him, the music going slow, the lighting soft — all of it is painfully, startlingly true after all.

Because there you are, walking towards him, still saying something, but he can’t make out the words anymore because time isn’t really a thing anymore, is it? He can’t focus on that and also the dark glimmer of your dress, the way the neckline skates just beneath your collarbones, barely skimming the skin there before it slips down along the slope of your shoulders in a way that makes his breath unspool inside his chest like loose threads.

And in the slanted, ethereal light of the winter afternoon, your dress looks like it’s cut from a swath of darkest midnight, moonless and scattered with stars.

You blush as Sanji attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor and hitch his lips into something resembling a smile.

“W-wow… you look…”

Your smile is shy as you press your palms against the dress, looking down, “Thanks… you don’t think it’s… too much?”

Sanji shakes his head, feeling dazed.

“No! I mean — it’s —“ his mouth is dry, drier than he ever remembers it being, and suddenly it’s very hard to swallow and Sanji isn’t even sure the muscles in his neck know how to perform the action, let alone force words out alongside it. He struggles for another few seconds, his jaw working furiously as his eyes skitter down and back up the shape of you.

“You look… perfect,” he says, finally, because the word has been ricocheting around his chest like a stray bullet and he had to let it out somehow.

“Thanks — you don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, your voice breathy in a way that makes Sanji’s stomach squeeze.

He offers you his arm, and you glide forward to take it.

He drives the three blocks to the wedding venue in a daze, his mind spinning slow and off-axis, tilted so by the gentle waft of your perfume, the lullaby of your voice as you chatter nervously about this and that and the weather, I mean, can you believe it’s gonna be an outdoor wedding in the winter? He wonders briefly why you’re so nervous, and then he’s reminded of the reason he’s even here at all — your ex will be here. Ah. Right.

“Ready?” he asks, offering you his arm again as the both of you follow the meandering stream of arriving guests toward the paved outdoor garden area where the ceremony is due to take place.

“No, but… you’re here so…” you let out a breath and for a second, Sanji almost thinks he hears the hint of an ache in your voice. An ache like an old scab picked at too many times, like unrequited love, perhaps. It’s an ache with which Sanji is so intimately familiar that he immediately tamps it down and vows not to think about it again for the rest of the night.

There are stiff-backed waiters wandering around with plates of hors d’oeuvres and thin flutes of bubbling pink champagne.

Sanji grabs two glasses and hands you one.

“Cheers, then.”

“Bottoms up,” you say, tossing back the entire flute in one.

Sanji cocks his eyebrows, grinning as he follows suit, smacking his lips.

“Alright then, I guess if that’s how you’re playin’ —”

Your laughter is light, if a little strained, but he remembers how quickly bubbly drinks tend to go to your head and makes a concerted effort to slow down. You make it all the way through the actual ceremony without bumping into your ex, though you do lean over and grab Sanji’s hand as the bride and groom exchange vows — something about love being a choice, one that they promise to make every morning of every day for the rest of their lives — and he looks over to find you misty-eyed, bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“Sap,” he whispers, leaning over. It earns him a choked laugh and a half-hearted elbow in the ribs, but it’s worth it to see the tension melt from your shoulders.

Sanji turns back towards the bride and groom, exchanging rings now, and unbidden comes the images of you and him standing where they are — you in a dazzling white gown, him still in a dark suit, but one perhaps of more expensive material and much better tailoring. He thinks about all the things he might promise you, wonders at what you might promise him in return —

“I promise to love and cherish you —” you might say.

“I promise to make all your favorite foods,” he might say.

“I promise not to touch your emotional support le creuset pans.”

“I promise not to make you taste all my experimental dishes —”

“Okay, but what if I want to —”

He imagines the way the crowd would titter, how the officiator would affectionately clear his throat. He imagines Zeff’s warm, well-worn laughter, rough and a little torn at the edges because he’s just as sentimental as the next guy behind all the beard and gruffness. He imagines the crowd smiling up at the pair of you, the way you’d squeeze his hands to get the both of you back on track —

He jerks out of his reverie as you tug your hand away from his to clap, and it takes him a beat to realize that everyone else is clapping and cheering too. He blinks — the bride and groom are kissing, pulling apart as the music swells around them and they link hands to walk back down the aisle.

Sanji clears his throat and hurriedly gets up to clap as well, his eyes trailing the radiant smiles on both the newlyweds’ faces. Another sharp ache sings through him but he feels your hand in his again and he can’t tell if he wants to grip you tighter or pull away. They’d both hurt just as much, wouldn’t they?

“C’mon, let’s get inside — I wanna judge the catering with you,” you whisper, your breath tickling his cheek, and he knows without having to look that you’re standing on your tiptoes, your chin almost propped on his shoulder.

He fights down a bout of shivers and smiles, “My favorite part of any formal event, honestly.”

You laugh, “I know — me too.”

So you spend the entire dinner service whispering to each other about the food —

“God, this steak is so well done I think it just might dislocate my jaw —”

“What’s in this sauce?”

Sanji chews thoughtfully before making a face, “Dunno, but it’s got oregano.”

“Oh the cake looks good though.”

“Yeah, but we both know how much sugar and butter goes into that right?”

You nudge him with an elbow, “Weird, cause I’m pretty sure happiness is also made of sugar and butter.”

“Well for me, it’s always been…” but Sanji trails off, biting his tongue. No. He can’t say that — not now. Not here.

Because for him, happiness has always just been you.

So instead, he swallows passed his own mouthful of regrets and attempts a lopsided grin. And thankfully, your attention is drawn elsewhere by a loud peal of laughter before he has to make a shitty joke about happiness being a well-lit kitchen and a gas-lit stove.

You’re both at least a bottle of champagne deep when it finally happens, inevitable as a summer storm — your ex saunters up to you on the dance floor, sporting a grease-slick grin, eyeing you up and down like a piece of well-cut meat. Sanji is at the bar, grabbing more drinks and you’re catching a breath of fresh air just outside the dance hall.

“Well, well, well — look who it is.”

Sanji turns sharply at the sound of the voice, his eyes narrowing — Asshat. Fantastic. The bartender is putting the finishing touches on two custom cocktails but blinks, confused, as Sanji swipes both drinks out from the bar and casts him a hurried grin.

“Thanks mate, these look great,” Sanji raises the cocktail glasses at the bewildered bartender before hurrying off, slowing ever so slightly as he reaches you, straightening his spine and smoothing out his shoulders.

“Here, got them special-made for you,” he says, pressing the cocktail into your hand, cutting into something that Asshat is saying.

“Oh! Thanks — oh wow, this looks so good!” you beam up at him, taking a sip.

“Oh wow, didn’t know you were still hangin’ out with this guy,” Asshat says, hooking his thumbs into his belt-hoops and jutting out his chin.

You frown, pressing your lips, “Excuse me?”

Asshat scoffs, posturing, “I mean, when we broke up, it was cause o’him right? So I just thought you might’ve realized what a mistake that was and —”

Sanji barely has the time to feel offended before Asshat is gasping and stumbling back. You’d tossed the remainder of your drink straight into his face.

“What the —” Asshat sputters, his fists clenching, but quick as anything, Sanji swipes out a leg that catches him right in the shins and makes him stumble. In one fluid movement, Sanji pushes his own drink into your hand before reaching out the other arm to steady the now flailing Asshat, catching him around the shoulders.

“Whoa there! Seems like you’ve had a bit too much to drink, my friend!” he says, loud enough for the people around you to hear. He thumps Asshat on the back in a would-be kind gesture before tugging him close, still coughing, and hissing in his ear —

“Listen here, you asswipe — you’re gonna turn around and walk away and stay the fuck away from us for the rest of this wedding, you understand? I’ve got plenty more o’this for ya if you don’t, got it?”

Sanji scuffs his foot along the gravel-covered ground in a motion that could easily be mistaken as fidgeting, but you know better. And so, it seems, does Asshat, who scoffs and shoves Sanji off him with a glare, but after another second, straightens his drink-soaked jacket, turns, and stalks away.

You let out a long breath, swallowing hard.

“Hey darlin’… you alright?” Sanji turns and bends down to level his eyes with yours.

“Y-yeah — thanks — you didn’t need to —”

“Nah. Course I did — it’s why you invited me, right?” he allows himself a lopsided grin that borders on self-deprecating and you look up, eyes wide.

“No! I — that’s not —”

“It’s okay, love — I promise I’m not offended —” Sanji’s babbling, he knows he is — but he has to, because the alternative of letting you speak, of letting you confirm what he already knows to be true (that you’ve only ever seen him as a best friend, that you love him in all the ways except for the one way he wants you to, in the one way he loves you) is too much. He tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs up his shoulders, pulling them up towards his ears like armor.

And then you lean in and kiss him, and every single word he’s ever thought of saying just to fill the silence turns to mist and mornings on his tongue. His mind turns blissfully blank and when he regains consciousness (or has he? Because isn’t this the dream he’s dreamt every waking moment of his life for the past… however many years?), he thanks every god he can name that he feels his fingers in your hair, his other hand cupping the soft curve of your jaw. He tastes your uncertainty against his lips and presses in, hoping, praying that if he just kissed you hard enough you might understand.

When you pull away, he can’t help the satisfied purr that curls up his chest at the pinkness in your cheeks and the slightly glazed-over look in your eyes.

“O-oh — sorry I —”

Sanji shakes his head, leaning in to push his forehead against yours.

“Nah, nah, nah — if you tell me that was a mistake now I might just turn around and never speak to you ever again — because don’t you dare —”

You let out a helpless laugh, shaking your head as you reach up to cover his hands with yours. It’s only then that he realizes they’d been shaking. He swallows and he thinks he can taste every single morning after for the rest of his goddamn life in the whisper of your breath.

“It — it’s not, I wasn’t —” you close your eyes and Sanji holds you still, foreheads still pressed. Distantly, Sanji is aware that people are cheering, that more drinks are being poured, that the dance floor is probably a mess. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he’ll care about anything else ever again — why would he? Now that he’s got you.

“Shh… take your time, love… we’ve got all the time in the world.”

He feels the relief take you, and then you’re falling into him, burying your face in the lapel of his suit jacket, probably smearing it with your foundation. Vaguely, Sanji considers framing it when he gets home.

“I’m… I’m sorry it took so long — I’m sorry I didn’t — that I wasn’t…” you curl your fist into the material of his shirt and thump him lightly on the chest, even as he laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“I know, darlin’… I know.” Sanji presses his lips into your hair and can’t help a smile.

Finally. Finally.

Your hair smells like citrus shampoo.

Finally.

“I thought about you every single day,” you admit, your voice small when you finally pull back to look at him again. He thinks there might be tears in your eyes, or maybe it’s just the starlight caught in the thick night sky of your lashes.

“Did you now?” he asks, fumbling for some semblance of normalcy amidst this night of revelations.

You nod, fervently, and god he wants to kiss you again. Briefly, he wonders if he should, if he’s allowed to now. Instead, he smiles and cocks his head.

“So? What changed?” and he can’t help the tiny note of hurt out of his voice, the slightest shiver of disbelief. After all, cynicism is a hard habit to break.

Especially after so many years of practice.

You shrug, sighing, “Nothing — everything. I mean — I’d always… but then I thought — you had your career as a chef and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life. But it —” you lick your lips, and Sanji nearly breaks when you tear your eyes away from his. He wants to force you back, to soak in the dark and bright of your gaze till he can see the world exactly as you see it.

“It’s always been you…” you say.

At this, Sanji does break. He tips your face towards him with a thumb and a forefinger and leans in, waiting for you to pull back, bracing for it. But you don’t — instead, you press in and close the space between you again, and again, and then again.

He wants to tell you — he needs to tell you that it’s always been you too, that there’s never been anyone else. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he’s known, even though both of you were children back then, and neither of you had any idea what “love” actually meant. He knew then, too.

“Love…” his voice trails off, but you smile, and he knows you know, knows that you can hear it in the rawness behind his voice, in the softness of his breath, in the way it shakes.

You make to kiss him again. But your lips hover half an inch from his and you stop. Sanji sighs.

“What — why’d you stop?”

Your smile is sweet and sharp, honey glinting on a razor’s edge, and he knows that he has you. And maybe that he’s always had you and was just too blind, too terrified, to see it.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s a metaphor.”

Sanji groans, “Fuck your metaphors.”

You bat your lashes, pulling an expression of mock affront onto your face.

“Well at least wine me and dine me first —”

Sanji licks his lips, “What’dyou think I’ve been trying to do for the last ten years?”

Your breath catches.

“Oh.”

Sanji smirks and kisses you again, slowly this time, languid and deep. Unhurried. He luxuriates in the way you go soft in his arms, in the way he can feel the gentle hitch of your breath as he runs his tongue along the edges of your teeth, coaxing you towards him, closer and closer and closer.

The hardest, angriest part of him wants to swallow you whole, bite down just to hear you hiss, to taste your blood on his tongue. To make you feel even a sliver of the pain he’d felt. He tamps it back down — there’s time for that later.

Instead, he forces himself to pull back and allows himself the satisfaction of watching you chase him, pursing your own lips with a bashful look away, your cheeks dark.

“So,” Sanji takes half a step back, puffing out his chest in the best imitation of a fuckboy at a wedding party, “wanna get outta here?”

You let out a helpless laugh, falling into his side. He lets the sound ring through him like so many silver bells.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He chuckles, looping an arm around your middle and leaning towards your ear.

“Your place, or mine?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure I still have a toothbrush at your place.”

Sanji hums, “You still have a whole drawer at my place.”

You smile up at him, open and happy and sincere, “Then… I guess that’s your answer then.”

#opla #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece netflix #one piece fluff #sanji opla #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x you #opla x reader #opla x you #opla fluff #x reader #floofy floof floof #scheduled post

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moonstruckme · 9 months ago

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happy new year lovie!!!! i feel bad for requesting this bc just thinking ab the volume of ur inbox is a little overwhelming and ive gone a bit overboard 😭

but..... bodyguard!james finds out his mum is quite sick right before his shift one day and leaves to take care of her after letting reader know. he has to take the week off and reader is visiting and bringing them their favorite homecooked meals everyday (which she has memorised bc, bless him, james loves to talk abt his mum) and james is LOVEEESTRUCK. she's there, bright and early every morning (with a different bodyguard bc god forbid she leaves the house with no protection right in front of james' own two eyes!!!) with muffins and flowers and bags of food in hand :( james is enamored and so sweet on her!!!!! and reader is obsessing over how vulnerable and emotionally in tune james is at a time like this!!!!! i'm thinking maybe confessions are getting pretty hard to hold back by the end of the week ☹️🩷

thank you! (if you do decide to write this or if you dont for letting me ramble on in your asks x)

Don't feel bad my love! Thank you for requesting :)

cw: sick family member

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

No matter how many times James has visited home throughout his adult life, he always manages to discover something he’s forgotten about living there. Like how particular his mum is about the way the dish towel is folded, or which drawer the scissors are kept in, or the ungodly amount of door-to-door salesmen that come by on a daily basis.

Lately, he’s being plagued by the last. He recalls them being vaguely annoying when he was younger, but James’ family is currently going through a difficult time that leaves one with somewhat frayed nerves. He very nearly snapped at a particularly tenacious primary school student selling chocolate yesterday. Not one of his finer moments.

So when the doorbell rings while his mum is trying to sleep down the hall, James has to make an effort to reel his wrath back in before he’s even answered it.

Funnily enough, any negative emotion completely evaporates when he sees you on the front steps.

“Hi,” you say, looking apprehensive.

“Hi,” James echoes. He opens the door the rest of the way, nodding to the fill-in guard you’ve brought with you. “Hey, Singh.”

Singh nods in return.

“I hope it’s alright that I just came by.” You give him a sheepish sort of smile. “I didn’t even realize I don’t have your phone number until now. You’re always just…there.”

James laughs, the mood that’s descended over him since getting the call about his mum lifting slightly. “Yeah, I suppose I am. What brings you out, sweetheart?”

You hoist the bags you’re carrying a bit higher in your arms. “I brought some stuff for you and your mom, if that’s okay.”

A tiny hand fists around his heart, squeezing pleasantly. “Course it is,” he all but coos. “Come on in. Singh, you alright to stay here and keep watch?”

Luckily, the other man doesn’t think to remember that James is currently on leave, and so defers to him with a curt nod. James shoots him a smile as you come inside, closing the door behind you.

“They put Singh on day shift?” he asks, taking one of the bags from you and leading you into the kitchen. “He’s barely finished training.”

“He seems fine,” you say in your good-natured way.

“He took you to a location that’s never been reconned without even bringing another guard to post outside.”

“It’s your mom’s house, Jamie.” The smile is evident in your voice, sweeter even than the smell wafting out of these bags. God, he’s missed you. “I doubt he suspects either of you are going to try and hurt me.”

“He should be prepared for the possibility,” James says, but he can’t manage to work any menace into his tone even to tease you. You tilt your head at him, mouth curving up to one side like you’re well acquainted with his particular brand of silliness, and he lets his grievances go instantly. “You didn’t have to bring us anything, angel face.”

You flush a bit at the endearment, directing a soft smile down at his family’s old wooden table (which is great, because now James is in the position of being jealous of a table). “I wanted to do something,” you reply simply. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s alright.” Not great. Not worse, which is always good. If the only thing he accomplishes in a day is that she doesn’t get worse, James can feel good about that. “She’s sleeping in this morning.”

“Oh, shit.” Your voice drops to a hush like the breeze blowing through leaves. “I haven’t woken her, have I?”

James grins. “No, you’re good. She can sleep through anything.”

You lose a breath. “Right, well I brought some meals to last you a few days,” you say, digging some containers out of the bag. “It can all be heated up whenever you’re ready to eat, and—oh, also some flowers. I know it’s stupid, but I thought they might brighten things up for you two.” James doesn’t think it’s stupid at all, but you go on before he can tell you so. “Can I put these in your freezer? I brought some muffins for this morning too, if you want them.”

“Yeah,” James says, the word leaving him on a breath. “I mean, yeah to both. Thank you.” He grabs several of the containers as well, showing you to the freezer. You both start cramming them in between things, wherever they’ll fit. He takes note of the food as it goes in, a heady warmth growing in his chest. “Did you make all of this?”

You hum in brisk affirmation. “I had plenty of time on my hands yesterday. Turns out things are pretty boring without you around.”

“How’d you know what to make? This is all—these are our favorites.”

You turn to him, a tenderhearted sort of smile curving your lips. “You talk about your mom a lot, Jamie,” you say. “I know all her favorites by now. And the things she’d make that were your favorites, too.”

James hadn’t realized he’d spent so much time rambling about his mum. It hurts his chest a bit to think of it now, worse to think that you’d been listening so intently.

“This is only really enough to get you through a few days,” you go on, oblivious to his yearning, “but I figured I’d come back with more if you’re both alright with it.” You look at him as you pack the last of the food away, your gaze careful. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“You could never intrude.” James isn’t sure how he gets the words out, his heart ballooning until it’s nearly cutting off his airflow. The cool air breezing onto one side of his face stops, and he realizes you’ve shut the freezer. “This is just…so, so kind of you. I don’t know what to say.”

“James.” Your voice is soft. Your smile has faded, and now you look at him with an unabashed, steady kindness. “You don’t have to say anything. I can’t stand the thought of you and your mom going through this. I wanted to help, somehow.” One of your shoulders comes up in a sheepish half-shrug. “Even if it’s really small.”

He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and you hesitate only a second before bringing your arms around him too. You squeeze him tight. James lets himself relish the feel of it, lovelorn. “It’s not small,” he says fervently. “It really…it means a lot, sweetheart.”

You only squeeze tighter in response. When he lets you go, your gaze is sad. Worried. You ask without prelude, “Are you doing okay?”

James gives you a half-smile. The truth of it. “Yeah, we’re alright over here. It’s hard to see her like this, but I think everything’s going to be okay.” You nod, solemn in your understanding. “Sounds like I might be doing better than you, actually, if your company’s bad enough that you’re entertaining yourself in the kitchen all day.”

You crack a smile at that, and James’ heart lightens. “Yeah, Singh’s no you. He doesn’t seem to like to chat.”

“Ahh, so that’s why you’ve really come out here, yeah? You just missed me.”

“You’ve caught me.”

It’s said like a joke, but James’ pride inflates foolishly nonetheless. “I hate that I can’t be there,” he says. “Especially now that I know they’ve put Singh on my shift.”

“He’s not so bad,” you laugh, heading towards the table. You fold up the bags. “Anyway, it’s more important that you’re here. And I’ll be back in a couple days to restock you.”

James fixes you with a look as you start for the door. “You really don’t have to.”

“I’m going to,” you say breezily. “Don’t forget to put the flowers in water, and the muffins are strawberry chocolate chip.” He grins. His mum’s favorite. “I’ll tell Singh you were raving about him.”

“Oh, please do.” He rolls his eyes, feeling lighter than he has in days. “Thanks, angel.”

You shoot him a smile worthy of the moniker as you go out the door. “See you in a couple days, Jamie.”

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ludwigplayingthetrombone · 1 year ago

Text

Had to split the last chapter into 2 separate ones bc i got a bit overzealous with this one... so here’s chapter 3! may be a longer bit before 4′s ready, but Enjoy! [tw: blood, mentions of suicidal thoughts/ death/ survivors guilt]

Ch1 Ch2

Tsunade: Enter. Kks: Mornin’. Tsunade: Kakashi. I got your message. So, Gai made it out of the coma, huh. I’ll go see how his condition is when I’m done here. Kks: I’m sure he’ll love that, but that’s not why I’m here. Tsunade: Are you looking for work? I can assign you-. Kks: More of a discussion. About the hokage thing.

Tsunade: Are you finallt giving me an answer? Kks: Yup. I’m saying no. I’m not interested. However, if there is truly no one else, I have a compromise if you’re interested.

Tsunade:It’d better be a good deal, brat. The council won’t be happy with this. You were about to accept months ago. Why say no now? Kks: Alot’s changed since then.

Gai: Papa

[gai sighs] [window sliding]

Kks: Yo. Gai: Rival!! Happy to see you! Kks: I see you’ve had visitors

Gai: Yes! I am so lucky and moved! Especially from our students! Kks: How are you feeling? Gai: Sore. Stiff. But much better than this morning. [kks hums] Kks: Sorry I took so long. Got caught up. Gai: Nonsense! I was honored to wake up to see both of your beautiful eyes first thing. You look so youthful! You left in such a hurry, you left your shoes. Kks: Yeah, had a soggy walk to my apartment. Can’t return those slippers now. Gai: How are /you/ feeling?

Gai: You seemed so overwhelmed and I couldn’t move. I feel like i’ve missed so much. Kks: I’m ok now. Just needed some air. Plus, sorted some things I’d been neglecting. I knew you’d be flooded with visitors. So, I stayed out of the way. Gai: Pretty cool response per usual. Kks: I think you’re pretty cool

Kks: How long are you stuck here? Did they say? Gai: A few weeks. Most of it depends on the physical therapy progress. My chakra network is fried. It’ll be slow to heal if at all. They’ve never treated my condition before, so the doctors are not sure what’ll happen

Kks: Did Tenten tell you about her plans? Kankuro even offered his experience building a prosthetic. Gai: Yes. She was very excited. Kks: /You/ don’t seem as enthused. What’s bugging you? you’re usually delighted by your team’s passion or whatever. Gai: I am truly touched because I know she’ll give it her all, but...

Gai: It won’t make a difference. Kks: What did the doctor say? Gai: Even if I can stand or walk, I’ll have lasting damage and pain. I’ll need a wheelchair the rest of my life. My time as an active duty shinobi is done.

Kks: You’ll get through this. Gai: What am I going to do, ‘Kashi? Kks: You’re stubborn enough. I’m sure you’ll find a way to prove them wrong. Like walking on your hands or something. You’ll be a menace in a wheelchair in no- Gai: I do not want you or my students burdened by my injury

Kks: That’s what you’re worried about? You think mourning you would have been any easier on anyone? You’re more to them than just a teacher. If you could have Dai back right now, wouldn’t you want that? Gai: Of course I would. Kks: Then see it from their perspectives. Don’t just lie down and accept this is how your life ends. That’s not how Dai raised you.

Kks: This is terrifying to deal with, Gai, It’s ok to feel overwhelmed. But please don’t give up. I won’t let you. Gai: I was prepared to die Kks: ...I’ve understood wanting to be dead for a long time. I get it. Gai: I do not regretn my decision at all. Regardless, I’ve hurt you the most. I know you’re angry.

Kks: I won’t lie to you. I am angry. Extremely. But I’ve wasted so much time pushing you away already. I don’t want to waste anymore time we have left. The only consistent thing in my life has always been you. I’ve said horrible things to you, and you never abandoned me. I think all the time about how I would have turned out if you didn’t keep me human. Self sacrifice seems to be something we have in common. Neither of us were meant to be without the other apparently... We’ve both been brought back from death. So maybe it’s...

Baby gai: You’re my eternal rival... My man of- Kks: Destiny

Kks: Strongesttaijutsu master who ever lived. My eternal rival. My man of destiny. I’m so happy you’re alive

[gai crying]

[Gai sobbing/crying]

#kakagai #gaikaka #Kakashi Hatake #Maito Gai #might guy #naruto #everyone p much lmao #my art #//blood #//mentions of suicidal thoughts

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ink-n-shadow · 15 days ago

Note

I would love to hear more of your ideas on the ABO!141 AU Glad you're feeling better, hope that your day is way better tomorrow <3

thank you love ♥ this was just a lil idea i had about kyle as the only beta in the pack bc i genuinely believe it’d be a little bit stressful and chaotic and he’d just need a break every so often

(also this is an old(ish) work that i've had in my drafts! i'm still kinda on a writing break until next monday, but enjoy <3)

kyle’s kind of the designated caretaker of the home and base. you can always find him straightening the pillows or folding up blankets, sometimes sweeping the dust bunnies from the floors or vacuuming the couch cushions. it’s a way for him to kind of reset himself and get time to himself. as the only beta in the group, it’s sometimes overwhelming to be caught in the middle all of the time, somewhat of a constant push and pull. so when any of you see kyle tidying up, you know to give him his space.

the only one who can really pull kyle out of his routine is john, who strides calmly up behind him as he folds up a blanket to drape along the back of the couch. he’s jostled from his dissociation by the feeling of two giant paws rubbing up his back slowly before resting on his shoulders, giving a soft squeeze that has kyle humming.

“thought you were doin’ paperwork,” kyle mumbles softly as he glanced over his shoulder at the alpha, eyes fluttering when he notices the soft look in them. “y’ need me for somethin’, cap?”

and it’s john’s turn to hum, bringing kyle’s attention back to the blanket with a gentle nudge of his nose against the back of his neck. “need you to take a break—y’know how long you’ve been cleanin’?”

kyle’s silence is enough of an answer, and he finally accepts defeat when john takes the blanket from him and drapes it across the back of the couch half folded, letting the alpha spin him around to face him. kyle instinctively tilts his head to the side, baring his neck for john when the alpha shakes his head gently, tilting kyle’s head back down with a couple fingers on his chin.

“why don’t you go to that one cafe y’like down the street, yeah? take some time for y’self, sweetheart,” john coos softly and lets his hands come up to kyle’s jaw, holding his cheeks in the palms of his hands. before kyle even has the chance to ask the question, john’s answering it. “don’t worry ‘bout the ‘megas—simon ‘nd i got it under control.”

and kyle can’t help but lurch forward to bury his face into john’s neck, arms wrapping around his body and hugging him tight against his body. he lets out a muffled “thanks cap,” which earns him a gentle head rub and a kiss to the temple.

“bring me back some tea, ‘lright? ‘nd grab those croissant things johnny likes. use my card too.”

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

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davidtennantgenderenvy · 5 months ago

Text

Things That Happened At Dallas Fan Expo- Panel and Epilogue

David and Catherine doing a panel together was such a wonderful surprise and it was lovely to see David be so unabashedly himself after how overwhelmed he seemed last night in autographs, complete with Refusing To Sit In Chairs Normally oh my goodness I can’t believe I got to see it live and in person

If not everyone got to answer their questions it’s because the combined adhd energy from both David and Catherine was far too strong and resulted in them taking 5-10 minutes to answer very simple questions and David oversharing quite a bit about his feet and stomach problems “I just want to share” why is he me

There was a very sweet girl who broke down in tears bc she’s from a small town and really wants to be an actor and David and Catherine have been really big inspirations for her it was so moving as someone in very much the same situation

Catherine gave an AMAZING speech about how being funny helped her empower herself against bullying

Merlin and I were lucky to get early enough in line to ask questions, I asked about takin over the asylum which surprised him in a really good way, and Merlin asked what it’s like forming very strong and very temporary connections as an actor! We had to leave immediately to get on our flight, but it was such an excellent note to end the weekend on

We ALSO were two people behind Alex Kingston at the airport, I didn’t get to meet her at the con so I was like “I loved your panel! Your hair is amazing! My mom loved you in ER!” She obviously was in a hurry but she was sweet, smiled and said hi and stuff, which was nice considering she very easily could’ve just shot me a withering glare and I would’ve thanked her. She also let a woman in front of her in security. A+ very elegant lady

All in all quite possibly the most insane weekend of my life. Definite ups and downs but overall I met so many LOVELY people, got to meet everyone I really wanted to and they were all everything I could’ve ever hoped for- especially the boy ;) @elsinore-and-inverness

Attached my question, and close up of David’s reaction to the video essay!

youtube

#david tennant #Alex kingston #catherine tate #doctor who #River song #the tenth doctor #fourteenth doctor #donna noble #good omens #crowley #takin over the asylum #campbell bain #Dallas fan expo #Youtube

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licorice-tea · 10 months ago

Text

Young And Dumb.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: Strawhat reader, gender neutral reader, reader is flirty and bold, cursing, allusions to sex and a threesome, no actual sexual content!!!, pining, kissing 🤭, misunderstandings/ miscommunication, a little bit of arguing, hurt/comfort <3

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: kind of been in a writing slump these past few days, so i just wanted to write and post something, you know? it’s weird bc i have a ton of wips in my drafts, but none of them really felt finished, so i did this whole thing in maybe 2 hours? hopefully it’s enough to pull me out of my little funk so i can get back to posting more regularly! anyway, enjoy!

Law respects you. He respects your choices, your independence from him, even your crew that he doesn’t always like personally. But one thing he absolutely cannot stand is when you do things like this.

The first thing he hears upon walking up to the deck is giggling. Bothersome, but not too loud or unusual that it throws off his routine. Besides; he’s sure his crew must be glad to be above the waves for once, and happy to have the company of the Straw Hats as well. The two crews had wound up with their ships anchored next to each other in the middle of the sea, and agreed to stay there before their courses diverged once again.

He sees you talking to Penguin and Shachi- the source of said laughter. But, Law does a double take when you let out a shriek of laughter. Then he realizes just how closely the two of them are standing to you. You’re not even on the same crew as them, but you look real cozy with Penguin’s hand around your waist and Shachi’s on your shoulder. Of course, he knows your friendliness can border on flirtation (and desperately wants to be on the receiving end of that flirting right now instead of his crew members) but that logic does nothing to calm him.

Law’s perpetual frown turns into a full on scowl as he marches over to the trio you’ve formed. “Penguin! Shachi! Have you…” he loses his train of thought when you give him a quizzical expression, and realizes there is nothing that they haven’t already done. “Your chores. Below deck.”

“Sure have, captain!”

“Yes, captain!”

All three of you look at him expectantly, unsure of why he’s still standing before you. “Are you ok, Law?”

“Ok?” No he wasn’t fucking ok. How could he be when two of his closest friends were throwing themselves at you, and you were letting them? They didn’t even know how he felt for you- no one does- but still. This was just too much for him.

“I need to speak to you, y/n-ya.”

With regard for his serious tone and expression, you wriggle out from between your two friends and follow Law all the way to his office. When you get there and he finally shuts the door, you don’t sit.

Instead you approach him, “Is something wrong? You seemed really upset.”

He looks down at you with a frown. You can tell he’s contemplating his next words before answering, “…Everything is fine.”

“Oh? Ok, so… why are we here then?”

Law breathes deeply, and exhales in a huff. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is it… serious? You’re being kind of weird, Law.”

“I am not.”

“Hm, well, no; you are. But what’s up?”

“I-“ he stops himself and sighs again before continuing. “So dramatic,” you think to yourself. “You shouldn’t get so close to Penguin and Shachi.”

You blink a few times, shocked. He could either be confessing his overwhelming love for you (which you highly doubted, Law had never seemed to reciprocate your affections for him) or giving you some spiel about inappropriate relationships. “Excuse me?”

“They do this kind of thing all the time, y/n-ya; messing around with random women and men, and-“

“And what, Law? I’m an adult, for fucks sake, I don’t need anyone telling me what to do.”

“You don’t understand, they- they want something from you.”

“I know damn well you’re not lecturing me on my sex life right now, Trafalgar Law.”

His face gets hot just from the thought of it. “I am not! But you can’t-“

“Yes, Law, I can. I’m not going to, wasn’t even planning on it; all I did was flirt with them. But believe me when I say I can.”

He’s silent, with an expression akin to that of a bewildered fish. Then it morphs into more of a frown. “I-“

“Don’t even continue with that thought, because you’ve already managed to piss me off beyond belief. Just- just get out of my way.” You step around him and fling open the door to his office before storming off.

That evening, the two crews gather on the deck of the Thousand Sunny for a feast. You find an empty seat, and soon enough Penguin and Shachi place themselves on either side of you.

“Heyyyy y/n.” The first greets you with a sort of awkward, nervous cadence.

“Hey guys, sorry I left without saying bye earlier.”

“Oh it’s fine, you’re good…”

“We’re sorry too.”

This makes you quirk an eyebrow in confusion and look side to side at either of them. “Why would you be sorry?”

They shoot a quick glance at each other, but it’s very obvious because they have to look across you to do so.

“Did you know that, well… Law sort of…”

“He has feeling for you. Big time.”

You almost spit out your drink. “What? Oh, ok, real funny guys-“

“No, no we’re serious!”

“Yeah! You should hear the way he talks about you-“

“All good things, of course, it’d be hard not to- But anyway he was never going to tell you because he doesn’t think you’re interested, blah blah blah-“

“Which is why we decided to try and make him jealous!”

“…I’m so confused right now. No, not even confused just… surprised?”

“Don’t blame yourself, Captain’s hard to read sometimes.”

“Good thing we figured it out for you, right?” Shachi elbows your side, clearly pleased with himself.

“Uh huh...”

Penguin continues “Anyway, we thought it worked when he said he needed to talk to you earlier, but when you came back you seemed sort of upset.”

“Yeah, well he was kind of acting like a dick.”

He sighs, “Law means well, I swear. He’s just… he’s not the best with matters of the heart.”

“That’s ironic.”

Shachi leans over you to address his friend. “Not the best? C’mon man, he has zero experience.”

“Shh! We want y/n to feel for him, not pity him.”

You laugh, “Right, so… what should I do?”

“Do you like him back?” Such a childish way of saying it.. but you do. And you had, for a while, but you’d never acted on your feelings because he’d never seem to like you as anything other than a friend. Until earlier today, when his jealously led him to say some kind of rude things to you. It was no excuse, but it explained why he’d acted the way he did.

You smile softly and look down. “I do.”

“Then go talk to him!”

“Yeah, go talk to him y/n!”

The two men excitedly get you up out of your seat and (gently) push you toward where Law is leaning on the railing of the deck. You laugh and go along with it- if what they were saying is true, what could be the harm in being honest about your own feelings with him?

You walk briskly toward Law, but with purpose, And when you stop in front of him, he looks up from his cup like a deer in headlights.

He quietly greets you with a nod. “…Y/n-ya.”

“Law. Can we talk?”

He nods and follows you to the starboard side of the deck, far enough from where the dinner and light music is. You come to a stop and turn to face him.

“You know, I’ve been talking to Penguin and Shachi…”

Law deadpans, still annoyed about how they were all over you earlier. “Mhm.”

“And they told me something about you. I didn’t really believe it, at first, because you never… Well you never acted like you do, but-“

“Like I what?”

“Like you… have feelings for me?”

“Shit.” He was going to kill them after this. Or at the very least, make sure they had the worst of the chores on the Polar Tang for the foreseeable future. “They… They told you that?”

“Yes, but-“ Law turns and tries to walk off with his fists clenched, before you stop and grab one of his wrists. “I feel the same way, Law. If it’s true, of course.“

“It is.”

You smile. “If you were jealous earlier, you could’ve just said so. Then I wouldn’t have gotten angry with you.”

“You’re not interested in them?”

“No, we’re just friends… But I didn’t think you were interested in me, either, so I didn’t see the harm in flirting.”

Law shrugs, looking down at his shoes. You’ve never seen him so shy. “Well, I didn’t think you felt the same way, so I never, uh, confessed.”

“Well,” you take a step closer, and risk your chances by gently lifting his chin with one hand. “I do.”

Law’s eyes roam over your face, mouth gaping as he searches for his next words. He wants to say something suave and impressive, to take back control of the situation when you so clearly have him wrapped around your finger. However, he comes up with nothing, and decides to try something new instead. Maybe your boldness has simply inspired him to suddenly come up with this master plan, or maybe he just can’t think of anything else with you standing so close; but he kisses you.

It’s slow and hesitant for the first few seconds- you think he’s probably new to this by the way he lips press into yours forcefully and without much intention. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer, guiding him to sink his lips into yours rather than have them press flat against each other. He follows suit, then pulls away for a quick breath before going right back for you. He sighs into the kiss this time, and your lips part ever so slightly. He takes this as opportunity try and go a little further- his tongue passes in the slit between your lips and you open them further to let him. What had started off as a small kiss quickly becomes a less than innocent make out session. Law is bold with it, too; nipping at your lips and causing you to gasp so that he can take you by surprise and kiss you that much more deeply (on more than one occasion.) You can both practically feel the tension built up over months of pining after each other dissipating.

At long last you pull away, for fear your mouth will go numb if you let him bite your lips one more time.

And Law asks, slightly panting; “How was that?”

You laugh, genuinely surprised that he’s concerned about his performance in what might’ve been was the best kiss of your life. “Perfect, Law. Just perfect.”

#one piece x reader #fanfic #one piece x you #one piece #x reader #law x reader #law fluff #law x you #law x y/n #misunderstanding #miscommunication #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d law x reader

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moonlit-imagines · 10 months ago

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Rekindled

Dick Grayson x Kyle!reader

warnings: guns/violence, death, brutality. like, the typical arkham game themes. not graphic, tho!! mostly mentions

a/n: this sorta takes place in the arkham knight storyline but you really dont have to know anything about that game to read this, i wanted to give enough detail bc i liked this idea and the arkham game fandom is under appreciated. also lowkey y/n is based on an oc but almost all my y/n’s are <3

prompt:

Gotham was on fire. You were dumb enough to stay behind. Selina had been MIA for longer than you were used to, and every effort of contact was futile. Last time this happened, she had been arrested and thrown into Arkham City, so it was needless to say that you were a bit worried.

Last thing she told you was that a “pretty worthless supervillain�� needed her help with something, but she left it at that. Yeah, she had a habit of making herself scarce, but she was your only family and you two always kept in touch. And now that the evacuation was in effect, you felt even more uneasy.

You pulled on your suit, black leather and spandex hugging your body tighter as you zipped up. Pulled your gloves on, claws and all. Clicked the belt around your waist, equipping your small set of weapons and utilities. The headpiece was pretty simple, just some silly cat ears to match your aunt’s, along with the goggles for good measure.

Gotham was more dangerous than you’d ever seen, only delinquents like yourself roamed the streets. Except, they didn’t carry a code like you. Scarecrow caused a panic, this “Arkham Knight” had a personal vendetta to fill, the city was on its knees. Tanks were starting to load onto the islands, troops taking over buildings, and riots overwhelmed what little protection was left here. You knew a few places to go, but your best bet was the movie studios.

Panessa, Batman’s secret base with the Wayne name slapped right on the outside, it always made you smile when you saw it. You were hoping to find an ally inside, maybe someone who could help you find Aunt Selina.

And you may be thinking you’d just sneak inside like a lovely little cat burglar would, but why not try the front door. “Stray.” You spoke into the voice box and chuckled as the doors opened for you. “It’s like they were waiting for me to crawl on back.” You stepped inside and into the elevator and poked the down button, trusting the rickety old elevator to deliver you safely to the lower level.

When you stepped out, there was only one familiar face that wasn’t behind a pane of glass. Didn’t know Batman kept prisoners. “Y/N?” Robin asked from across the room, setting down his tablet to meet you halfway. “What the hell are you still doing in Gotham?”

“Selina’s missing and I didn’t want to leave without her. What’s…all this?” You motioned at the containment cells, starting to understand why there were prisoners when you noticed their Joker-esque features. The lot began to make trouble, beginning to harass and poke fun the same way that clown would.

“Ignore them. I’ll call Batman.” Tim told you. “Make yourself comfortable, I guess. You already broke in.”

“Broke in?” You scoffed. “I used the door, actually. Still have my little voice thing activated. I just had to say my name and I walked in. Kind of rude to assume I just break in just because I happen to be a burglar from time to time.” You ranted and heard a chuckle from Robin just before Batman answered his call.

“He wants to talk to you.” Tim called you over, holding out his arm in an awkward way to you could talk to Bruce.

“Tell me everything, y/n.” Batman instructed.

“Hey, good to see you, too. Uhh, yeah, so Lina said she was hired by some loser supervillain to steal something they needed. That was basically all she told me before she left, been a few days. Can’t get ahold of her.” You explained, looking over at Tim and shrugging. “She considers most of the so-called ‘supervillains’ of Gotham ‘losers,’ though, so it doesn’t really narrow it down.”

“Okay. Stay at the movie studios. I’ll look into it.” Batman hung up just like that and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m not allowed to leave either. This…” Robin motioned to the Joker lookalikes, “is what Joker left behind in his death. All that infected blood from Arkham City, it wasn’t all caught, and I have to find a cure.” Robin went back to his tablet and you sat on a nearby chair. “Catwoman tell you much about the City?”

“Only that it was a shithole and Two-Face is a loser.” You started scrolling through the computer before you, reading little lab notes here and there. “How’s Oracle?”

“She’s in the city, of course. Refused to evac, wanted to help, but no one expected anything less.” Robin noticed you snooping, but let you continue. “Nightwing’s okay, too.” Your eyes peeked to the side and your brows raised. “Well, not really. Ego’s bruised since Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy kicked his ass the other night.” You laughed out loud, quite amused by the news.

“Good, he probably needed it.” You leaned back in the chair. “You know, I could probably help out there.”

“I already tried, Batman said to stay here.” Tim sighed.

“I don’t work for Batman. Maybe I wanna go kick some ass and try to find my aunt.” You explained, only half-jokingly. If was only seconds after that projections of the Riddler showed up all over Gotham. “Oh, brother. Not this guy.” You groaned, watching Nygma go on about his plan until Catwoman appeared on screen, causing you to bolt up and out of your chair. You would have run for it now if not for his explicitly telling you to stay away.

“Oh, and Stray, dear? Keep away, please. This is for Batman and Batman only, and if you get too close I might just…oh, well, you know.” Riddler chuckled at the insinuation that he’d detonate the bomb around Selina’s neck. Robin looked to you, noticing you were completely flush as you watched the broadcast.

“Y/N, he’s won’t let Nygma do anything to her. Try to stay calm.” Tim tried to snap you out of it, which only caused you to transition from fear to rage, jumping up from the chair and pacing around to keep from hitting him.

“Just…shut up, T—Robin. Shut up.” Your claws were drawn and you were steadying your breathing before things got ugly for everyone. More taunts were thrown at you from the Joker-infected and you needed to get the hell out of here, so you headed for the elevator.

“Wait, hey! Y/N, you can’t go out there, it’s not safe.” Robin jogged up beside you, but you ignored him. “You can’t save her right now, Riddler is obsessed with besting Batman. You can’t interfere or it’s over.” You stepped into the elevator and just as you were about to press the button, “Dick is in the city.” You paused.

“Why do I care?” You rolled your eyes and watched Robin pull a wrist communicator from his belt.

“You care.” He handed you the comm. “You can call any of us with that. We have our locations on, too. Keep in touch.”

“Where is he?” You sheepishly asked, looking down at your boots. You knew Tim had a stupid, told-you-so smirk on his face.

“Near the docks, he’s working on something. He’ll probably need your help.” Your eyes sort of lit up when you heard that, but you quickly took yourself back to reality knowing Tim was just trying to make sure you weren’t alone out there. For Dick’s sake.

You were still considered apart pf the family, even if Selina and Bruce weren’t a thing at the moment and you and Dick had gone your separate ways. You still caught yourself thinking about Dick Grayson often, wondering what could have been, what you would have done differently, why you guys even chose to leave. Sometimes it made sense, sometimes you struggled not to pick up the phone.

But now you stood on the rooftop of Panessa Studios, looking out to a city in ruins. A city in need of saving. As much as you respected Bruce, there’s no way you believed he could do this all alone. And if he was going to save your aunt, maybe you should lend a helping hand in the meantime. You fiddled with the device on your wrist, trying to get the hang of the new model communicator until you found Nightwing’s contact programmed in. Clicking the button made your stomach drop, you froze up as the line rang.

This comm was given to you, but wasn’t updated in the system as yours, so Nightwing answered the message from Batcom #1 and was shocked to see your beautiful face waiting for his answer. “Y/N! Are you…are you still in Gotham?” Dick’s calling of your name was embarrassingly high-pitched, but he recovered it upon his question. “Please tell me you’re not here.”

“Dick, I’m wearing cat ears and my aunt is being held hostage at the moment, of course I’m here.” You sarcastically answered, just like he remembered. “Tim gave me this thing, said I could go help out if I wanted. Just have to stay away from Riddler stuff for the night.” You explained, showing the Panessa Studios sign in the background.

“Yeah?” You could see Dick’s smile, like he and Tim knew exactly how to plan and you just wouldn’t figure it out. But despite this cold, brutal night, you felt all warm and fuzzy inside when that smirk grew on his face, you knew he was happy to have this opportunity. “I kind of need a partner for what I’ve got going on, Penguin’s doing something shady down by the docks. Wanna join me?”

“I could get behind that.” He sensed a bit of flirtation in your voice. “Meet you there?”

“I’m already here, why don’t I meet you in the middle? It’s really bad out here…” Dick rubbed the back of his neck nervously, thinking he’d come on too strong.

“You’re worried about me?” You chuckled and he told himself his suspicions were true. “How sweet.” You began walking to the edge of the roof, beginning to plot your path to avoid any psychopaths that may try to murder or kidnap you. “It’s not that far, I’ll be fine.” You hung up on him and he took a deep breath. Seeing his ex, probably his first love, after a long, long hiatus, it probably freaked him out more that Gotham’s takeover right now.

You barely felt the nerves he did, you knew you had a certain power over him. Not that you’d like to use it, not like you used to. Getting away with petty little crimes with your charm until you finally gave him a chance, let him show you the other side of things. Betraying that trust would put you down the wrong path once again.

Dick waited patiently for you, staring at the rooftops you may travel across to try and spot you, completing ignoring the smoke and flames from below. Running into trouble up there wouldn’t be much of a problem, everyone was busy robbing stores and shooting each other on the ground. You’d heard about some freaky bodies strung up on rooftops, some more Riddler shenanigans hidden around the place. Honestly, it didn’t surprise you much. This was Gotham City, where anything could happen.

Soon you found yourself just a few more steps from your past. You and Nightwing, both masked, stood across from each other with only a gap between buildings between you. With a graceful leap, you swung above the road and landed right beside the vigilante, who was a bit too stunned to speak, but he was the famed Dick Grayson…he doesn’t stay quiet for long. “Nice landing.” His smooth voice made you smirk involuntarily.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting.” You rolled your whip up and clipped it back to your belt.

“Eh, you did…but I’m willing to forgive and forget.” He quipped in his nonchalant tone, same boy you’ve always known. “Bat bossing you around?”

“Yeah, he wanted me to stay at that run-down movie studio. I really wasn’t about it.” You sighed, looking down at the arms deal below. “But I guess you know the feeling a lot better than me. I never really listened to the guy, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” Nightwing chuckled, kneeling down by the ledge. “You’re my inspiration for breaking away. Always giving Bruce shit, not taking him seriously. He hated it.”

“Hated me?” You asked him, wide-eyed.

“Actually, I think it was the reason he liked you so much back then. Usually people see him as like, an authority figure.” Nightwing explained, still observing the Penguin goons below. “And the people who didn’t listen were usually still a little afraid of him. But you were just that ‘kid’ who never quite listened and didn’t quite care.” You chuckled at some old memories that came back to you with his words. Memories of awkward patrols and first encounters with Batman and the first Robin. You and him were so young back then. So young and so hopeless.

“So you’re saying he approved of me?” You teased with a taunting smirk and poked Nightwing in the arm, causing him to scoff and roll his eyes. “Oh, yeah, the big bad Batman approved of the poor little street cat.”

“Well, as close to approval as possible. He is still a hardass.” Nightwing realized in that moment how easy it was to fall into your old ways. No awkwardness, just two people who have a bond you can’t break with time. “So, uh, these guys down here.”

“Righttt, the Penguin guys. North Refrigeration, huh? Man, you’d think Oz wouldn’t be so predictable.” You remarked as a car sped past you on the street behind, shooting an automatic rifle into the sky, but you paid little mind to it. “Remember the Iceberg Lounge? He must really like the cold.”

“He’s definitely got a gimmick.”

“Don’t we all?” You pointed to the cat ears on your headpiece and you both burst into quiet chuckles. “Are we gonna go down there or what, Dickie?” Your nickname for him made his heart flutter.

“Bruce wanted me to wait, he’s got a plan.” Nightwing sighed. “I’m only listening now because of how insane it is tonight, but I wish he’d let us handle it ourselves. He needs a break.”

“I think we all do.” You crossed your legs on the concrete rooftop and wrapped your arms around them, looking past the illegal activities below and over at the city skyline across the water. “If we all make it out of here alive, I think it’s time I leave Gotham.” You stared in silence for a few moments, pretending not to realize Dick staring at your profile. “Wanna do my thing and not listen to Bruce?” You snapped out of it and raised your eyebrows in a playful way. “You can’t say no, it’s not in my nature to listen to big strong men.”

“You wanna go bother these guys down here? They’re just doing their jobs.” He joked, getting up to play your game.

“Oh, well that’s too bad.” You shrugged, nearing the edge of the roof. “Maybe I just wanna say ‘hi.’”

“Oh, well if that’s all you wanna do.” Nightwing stood beside you and you both took a quick leap from the building to the ground, startling the group of thugs and interrupting their very important work.

“Shit! Catwoman?” One of the thugs asked before getting punched in the gut by yourself.

“Hah, he deserved that! Rest of us know who you are, Ronnie’s just a dumbass.” Another thug assured you before Nightwing shocked him with an escrima stick. You both took turns knocking around these cronies until all of them were laid out across the ground, only ones left were hiding inside of the van beside you.

“That was fun.” Nightwing nudged you with his elbow as you walked side by side to the back of this van. “We’ll have to do that again sometime.”

“How about when we find their hideout?” You suggested, knocking on the van doors. They flung open and were shocked to see two vigilantes waiting for them, then desperately drove off just as you’d planned. Nightwing grabbed you by the waist, pulled you close, and used his grapple gun to bring you both back the the rooftops so you could easily follow the van without being spotted. It was a bit off-guard, being pulled in like that, but you didn’t mind at all.

After some time and a bit of flirty remarks here and there, you both made it to the Penguin’s hideout. “You sure you’re in? There’s a lot of people in there, we can still wait for Bruce.”

“Come on, Dickie. It’s nothing we haven’t done before.” You tilted your head to have him come along with you and led him to an unconventional entrance. “It’s gonna be tons of fun, you’ll see.” You opened the rooftop vent and slid down first, crawling beneath the floor and estimating how many men you’d be going up against with your infrared goggles. Probably twenty or so, but you and Dick had trained together for a long time, it would all come back to you in an instant—you hoped.

The both of you popped out from the shadows and immediately started beating on these criminals, watching them all scramble to figure out how to react. “Told you, fun!” You called out to Dick, tossing a pair of bolas at a goon’s legs causing him to trip right into Nightwing’s roundhouse.

“Never doubted you for a moment!” Nightwing answered, pushing another thug your way so you could catch his arm with your whip, pulling his fist into his face. “Ouch! Why’d you do that, man?” Nightwing punched your victim once again. “Starting to think you like getting hurt.” The two of you continued throwing punches in sunch a calculated, synchronized way, catching a few as well. Once a thug managed to land a punch to your face, Nightwing was right to the rescue. “You okay?”

“Never better, baby.” You held your cheek and he worried you’d got a concussion for a moment before realizing you called everyone “baby.” Dazed, he also caught a punch to the back, knocking the final thug down with only his elbow. “That was it? That wasn’t even a challenge, that was a warm-up.” You told Dick, who was still kind of staring at you. “Hey, I told you I’m fine, don’t worry.” You smiled.

“It’s not that.” Dick chuckled. “It’s just, I’m thinking about what you said earlier.”

“What’d I say?” You kicked a guy’s arm away from your foot, wondering what Dick meant.

“About leaving Gotham…I’ve got an extra room at my place.” Dick shamelessly offered, but you could hear the nervousness in his voice.

“An extra room? Did you move apartments?” You raised a brow and saw his cheeks turn red under his mask.

“Uh, well…no.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I have extra room in my bed, though…if you’re down.” You stared at him, shocked and expressionless. Not many people could do that to you. “I don’t want to put you on the spot, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t expect anything out of you, but y/n, I want you in my life again.”

“…What?” You quietly answered him, still dumbfounded by the sudden proposal. You absolutely loved seeing him tonight, and you loved fighting beside him, and you loved him. It was like everything was coming back together.

“I left Gotham, I left everything behind. I left you behind. And I know that was both of our decisions, but if you’d just leave Gotham with me tonight, after all of this is over, I’d like to start over with you however you’d like.” Dick and you stood below these dim string lights in this criminal base surrounded by beaten foes, piles of money, and loads of firearms. A hell of a place for a romantic speech like this. “I just realized how much I was missing without you. And all the dangers of tonight, and you and I getting stuck here. I don’t want to be apart again, y/n.” He confessed to you.

You both quietly stood there a moment, not knowing what to do. You were still sweating from the fighting that had concluded a few minutes ago. Still breathing heavy with a fast heartbeat, but now for a new reason.

You said it yourself, you wanted to leave. Tonight solidified that decision. And Selina would understand. You were a Stray, you went where it was good for you, and maybe Blüdhaven would be good for you. It wasn’t on fire nearly as much, didn’t have as many supervillains, wouldn’t give you a target on your back.

And it had him.

And he was offering you everything.

And without another thought, you took a few paces forward into his arms and pulled his face in for a deep kiss, hands carefully cupping his cheeks as not to scratch them. Dick was surprised at first, but couldn’t resist what he’d been wanting since he left for Blüdhaven. He wrapped his arms around your waist and slowly kissed you back, the passion was still there. Both of you felt it.

You pulled away slightly and gazed into his eyes, both smiling stupidly from the kiss. “Does this mean you’ll come with me? Please say it does.”

“Yeah, Dickie, I’ll come with.”

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 //

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #batman arkham games #batman arkham knight #batman arkham knight imagine #dc comics #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine

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laweyd · 1 month ago

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Hi! How did you start putting your work out? Not in like a "publishing how-to" way, but in a "I'm ready to just send this off into the world". I have so many things that I'm sitting on, but I can't find it in me to send them off. I don't know what it is. But I feel like it's time and I can't push myself to do it.

Hello!

I began posting when I was 13 and I think I just had no shame (not only bc I was young) also mainly because no one knew who I was in real life so I felt like I just made a “persona” of myself at the time before I began opening up more over the years 🤔

Unfortunately I can’t pinpoint a good way to be more open about it as I can also see how it can be hard as art is personal and it seems like you are putting yourself out there which can be frightening 😵

Sometimes you just have to put yourself out there and post because … it’s not like you don’t want to post you just need a little push in some way!

It just happen to be a skill or like a habit that you aren’t used to at the moment so it can seem frightening and uncomfortable.

This can’t be compared, but I recently went to the cinema alone recently which is something I’ve always wanted to do, but what stopped me is that I’ve never done it before. I found the idea simply frightening and incredibly uncomfortable hahah

I’m not sure what I expected because everything did go well 🤣 like they just had to check my ticket that’s all hahah I felt fairly anxious and scared at the time because it was my first time which was fairly uncomfortable! But it’s not like I didn’t want to go alone either! I had to step out of my comfort zone which made me so anxious even thought all I had to do was to show my ticket, walk in and sit down and enjoy the movie. I did want to see more movies at the cinema even though my friends weren’t available at the time!

After experiencing it and going several more times, I made it as a habit and became less anxious as I know what I expect from the experience ! This also goes for trying out new interests and hobbies and hopefully you can see the connection with the anxious/scared feeling of having to post online as well.

Sometimes you will be the one to take the push forward and do it yourself or you can have someone do it with/for you. At some point you just have to push the «post» button yourself.

I also post my drawings during midnight and head straight to bed hahah 🫣 I get overwhelmed fairly quickly so it works to calm me down as I wake up with a clear head instead of being anxious throughout the day. I also used to do it before I go to work/school/workout etc that would keep me busy throughout the day from thinking about the drawing I just posted.

It’s a bit messy answer, but I hope you can see the connection of it and I hope it helped just a little bit🫣!

#lawey asks #its a bit unclear answer as I also struggle with similar things but with other tasks hahah #u got thiiis 😤💪💪#it’s not so scary once you try it out after a few times

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lazywriter-artist · 3 months ago

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Some answers for @sleepyfan-blog :3

Also while I’m at it idrk how many questions anyone may have but feel free to ask away!!!! My inbox is always open :3 and I love love love yapping about this stuff 🫶

Hello hello yes yes :3!!!!! So I’ll have to tread lightly around some things as there are bits and bobs that are story beats later on but there are a few things I can answer now!

1). Emps brother :0?!?!?!

Emps is 100% human (or well- as human as an immortal perpetual can be anyway) while I do really like the theory I’ve seen floating around that emps could have become/trying to prevent from becoming a chaos god bc belief is a strong thing in the 40k universe this isn’t what is going on in this au ^^! While I can’t say too much, as I’m trying to decide if this will be discussed later in the story or if I’ll just make a little ‘lore corner’ about this sometime in the future, emps is connected to the other chaos gods in a way they (emps and the chaos gods) have decided to label as siblings but emps has some different stuff going on with his situation making him more of a sort of step brother to them :)!

2). TEDDIES?!

The R&R adventures are real and do exist! They’re things that are indeed really happening & and emps isn’t just imagining it!

Malca-bear “speaking” to emps is mostly just him coping with the loss of malcador in his own private means bc he’s a big freak man who’s emotions and coping methods are whacked to the warp and back (/affe)

And yes UwU he does have bears of all his sons (+malcador) in various states at various times(most of his 21 son-bears are fine! What little damage they may get from an upset emps is very quickly repaired at his— sobbing— request,two of them however he has sealed away in a place even his most trusted of individuals don’t know of.) The last panel for ‘the chaos reveal’ is mostly just a fun little eye catcher thing but I wouldn’t put it past an extremely overwhelmed emps to rip it to shreds and then go sobbing to his custodes to pretty please fix his bear (the custodes are the only ones allowed to know about the teddies) and sobbing and crying until he was fixed, at which point he would profusely apologize to the little bear. I think for most of his sons (loyalist) who were lost to the heresy he hasn’t touched since and they sit in pristine condition on a shelf kept sparkling clean with likely custode upkeep set to a higher standard then the emperor allows for himself, his rebellious sons got a bit of scolding and then subsequent apologize they received the same treatment of tenderly being put up and tended to. His ‘still remaining son’ bears definitely are also kept in very good condition don’t get me wrong, he just has less qualms with cuddling them or having little make believe sessions that big E might find very embarrassing if I plastered all over got all to see 👀🤭🤭🤭🤭

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campbyler · 4 months ago

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hey bylertwt user here. moved to privbylertwt w my oomfs. they’ll prob see this so guys ily all soooo much but like. this is UR fic. it’s not even a hc atp it’s ur world that u created w these characters. if u say mike or will, or any of the characters for that matter, wouldn’t listen to an artist or like a show or game then that’s UR choice bc it’s the world u guys wrote?? so apologies on behalf of all my twt moots bc they love to argue w each other and clearly that jumped over into their interactions w u guys, the authors. love acswy sososoosososo much and they do to, and it seems like u guys get that all of the intensity comes from a place of love bc this fic is honestly like the Big byler fic. at least in my eyes. again love it so much. so much in fact that the sneak peak u posted for ch10.2 acruslly made me tear up at work. i had to go hide in the bathroom for 10 minutes bc acswy will gets me so worked up LOL. so. thanks for writing this world and allowing us to experience it!!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

hello and thank you this ask was so nice! obviously we have had some very fun and lighthearted and joke-y interactions on twt w our readers before and we love being able to post and reply to people so easily but it just gets kind of weird when we get asked very pointed and leading questions (usually “would acswy mike (and occasionally will) do/like/listen to ___”) and we say no because of (actual in-universe reason that we have thought out) and then we get that person and five of their mutuals jumping down our throats at once over something so unserious and lighthearted. we’re pretty good at taking a joke and rolling w the punches, and no one wants to be the person that has to say “hey can we fr cut that out” and ruin the fun but sometimes people definitely take the banter too far and it just feels like we are being accosted more than anything else and it isn’t fun anymore. thea and i both struggle quite a bit with deciphering tone online and our varying flavors of neurodivergency do mean that sometimes we get overwhelmed by stuff like this, and we’ve been called defensive and sensitive on there for our responses to things, but i can’t imagine anyone would be having a good time in this sort of situation — especially when we do initially try to de-escalate the situation or clarify what we mean or ask it to be toned down just to have people double down or get passive aggressive instead. like……… it’s just not fun for us at that point. our readers are welcome to hc anything they want about our universe and characters, but if you specifically ask us about it and we give you an answer you don’t like for a specific reason…. idk what to say! you asked! obviously when something gets more popular it will invite a lot more opinions from a lot more people which is totally fine and we don’t really care about that, but idk …. starting those arguments or being hostile in interactions With us or purposefully putting them where we can see it when we are active on there is just weird to us and we don’t love it. anyways thank you for your ask and your kind words!! we appreciate it a lot 🫶🏽

#asks #maybe our own fault for deciding to be active on twt again lol #generally the good outweighs the bad but now people are qrting our tweets out of context and calling us lesbian hating headcanon police so #we will probably be logging off for a little while

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bluegiragi · 2 years ago

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I dunno if you’ve ever answered this, and if you have forgive me but I would love to know your take about the circumstances that would lead to König fucking Ghost instead of vice versa- bc I can’t imagine a scenario where Ghost would allow his shit to be wrecked like that, and by König too

Thank you so much for all your art!! It makes my brain do the dopamine dance ❤️

thank you for your kind words anon!! and yeah, i think i've touched on it really lightly previously but i'll go more into it now :)

i think we can all agree that ghost has some pretty serious intimacy issues, and i think bottoming can be a little overwhelming for him (not necessarily in a bad way, he's just not used to being taken care of like that so it's a lot, and usually a bit emotional). but i think it's easier (and more pleasurable) for him when he can do it and still be the dominant one.

i think ghost is actually a bit pleased by the fact that konig is big enough to manhandle him, since it makes him feel extra powerful when he's got konig wrapped around his finger. he dangles the prospect of getting ridden over konig like it's a prize for when he's especially good, and i think they both like to do it in a way where ghost acts like konig's just a toy for him to use. so tying konig down in some way, or making it so that ghost will stop if he moves - i think that's a scenario they like to play out.

there's also a scenario where they're just coming off a mission and konig is still in that assertive, cocksure mode while the adrenaline's still high. surprising literally noone, ghost finds konig's ability to turn into a feral killing machine hot as fuck, and although he'd still put on a superior mask and make it seem like he's simply allowing this to happen, i think this scene plays out with konig fucking ghost against a wall as brutally as he can. it works for both of them in this way since it's so violent, like it's basically just stress relief and i think ghost would goad and berate konig the entire time, even as he's being fucked to tears.

#ive.#thought about this too much #<3 #thank you for indulging my filth #askbox #anon #ghostkonig

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gunilslaugh · 1 year ago

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Hi!! Could I request something where the boys react to their s/o doing some acts of service for them out of the blue? I don't know how to explain it, but I had the idea of making food for gunil and then being like "I know you've been working hard on your gains. It has 30g protein" or like for jooyeon where they both ordered food and they sacrifice some of their meat or carb for the vegetables bc they know Joo doesn't like veg very much. I hope this made sense 😭😭

Hello, don't worry it made sense :)

All members [ ∆ - ∆ ]

Summary: Xdinary Heroes reaction to you doing acts of service for them.

WC:~1.7k

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

Gunil

Finally, you have gotten the recipe right. The freshly baked protein cookies sat warm on the cooking tray. Gunil mentioned how he was craving sweets, but due to his diet for muscle building he stayed away from them. You decided that you would bake him cookies that he could eat without worrying about his diet. You transferred the cookies from the tray to a container for fresh keeping.

Gunil and you had just finished dinner and you went to fetch the container of cookies.

“I have a surprise for you,” you told him, holding the container behind your back.

“What is it?” he asked excitedly, clasping his hands together.

“Protein cookies!” you announced, taking the container of cookies out from behind your back and shaking it a bit. “You said you were craving sweets but didn’t want to ruin your diet, so I made cookies that fit your diet,” you informed. Gunil’s heart melted. What did he do to deserve you?

“Here.” You took the lid off of the container holding it out to Gunil. Gunil took a cookie and took a bite. The flavor melted on his tongue.

“Y/n these are so good,” he raved. “Thank you so much,” he pulls you into a hug.

“I’m glad because the first two batches weren’t so good,” you laughed looking at the counter where the bad test batches sat. Looking at the bad batches only makes Gunil appreciate you more. Thinking about all the effort you put in just because he one offly mentioned he was craving something sweet. At the moment his heart is filled with nothing but love for you.

Jungsu

“Ugh I can’t find anything with all these files all over the place,” Jungsu complained.

“How come you don’t organize the files?” you questioned. Jungsu came over and rested his head on your shoulder tiredly.

“I’ve been meaning to, but I’ve been really busy lately and when I actually have time to do it I’d rather spend that time resting. Looking at the mess of files is overwhelming too, it makes me not want to do it,” Jungsu explained. It was understandable, organizing things can be quite tolling. You brought your hand up to his head and stroked your fingers through his hair to help him relax. Jungsu’s eyes fall closed and you feel him relax against you.

“How about you take a nap?” you suggest.

“I want to spend time with you,” he said, but the tiredness in voice couldn’t be ignored.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” you assured him.

“Ok, wake me up in thirty minutes,” he tells you.

“Ok, I will,” you answered. You tucked Jungsu into bed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Once he had fallen asleep you set a timer on your phone for thirty minutes. Then make your way over to his computer and put in the password. You got to work sorting through and organizing all of his files. You had just finished organizing the files when the timer went off. The timer woke up Jungsu. He sat up and saw you sitting at his computer.

“What are you doing?” he rasped out.

“Come look,” you told him, getting up from the chair. Jungsu came over and saw all the files now neatly organized on his computer.

“You organized it all?” He looked at you in disbelief.

“I wanted to make it easier for you,” you told him, feeling slightly bashful.

“Thank you so much. Seriously, you're a lifesaver.” A part of him feels like he could cry. He was so touched by your actions.

Gaon/Jiseok

Xdinary Heroes were working hard preparing for their upcoming comeback. Which meant that Jiseok was often skipping meals, much to your discontent. It obviously isn’t healthy for him to skip meals, so you packed a lunch and headed over to the JYPE building. After arriving you went to the studio you knew Jiseok was working at. You knock on the door and you hear a “Come in.” from the other side. You twisted the knob and entered the room.

“Y/n you didn’t tell me you were coming,” Jiseok said surprised. He was still excited to see you though.

“It’s not a surprise if I tell you,” you told him playfully. “ I brought you lunch, cause I know you’ve been skipping it,” you halfway scolded him. Jiseok looks down sheepishly, feeling like he had been caught. You placed the bag of food down on the desk and began to pull out the food. Lastly you handed him a pair of utensils. “Eat,” you ordered him. Jiseok took the utensils from your outreached hands and began to eat the food.

“Thank you,” he says with his mouth still half-full.

“You’re welcome,” you tell him, placing a hand on the back of his head to ruffle his hair affectionately. Jiseok feels taken care of and he loves it. He loves you and how you look out for him. The fact that you take time out of your day just to make sure that he eats warms his heart. It makes him feel special and lucky. Lucky that he has a person who cares for him so much and special that he gets to be a person that you care about. O.de/Seungmin

It was a relaxing, staying-in evening with Seungmin. You two were in his room watching a show together on his laptop. The two of you took a break from watching the show so Seungmin could go pick you both up some dinner. You were in the bathroom when you noticed how dirty the mirror had gotten. Now you know why there was a recent lack of mirror selfies from Seungmin. It made you chuckle a little bit, but you decided that you would clean the mirror for him as a favor, so that he could get back to taking his mirror selfies that he loves so much. You got to work cleaning the mirror, scrubbing it clean from all of the dirty spots.

“Y/n where are you?” Seungmin called out for you. You were so caught up in cleaning you didn’t even hear him get back.

“In here!” you hollered from the bathroom as you finished wiping down the mirror. It was now spotless. Free from any spots are fingerprints. Upon entering the bathroom Seungmin was quick to take note of the rag in your hand. Then he looked at the mirror, noticing that it was clean.

“You cleaned the mirror?” He approached the mirror to get a better look at its clean state.

“Yep, now you can get back to taking your mirror selfies. Villains can thank me later,” you played.

“Well I’ll thank you now.” Seungmin presses a kiss to the side of your temple. Seungmin insisted on taking some mirror selfies with you to show his appreciation. He feels blessed to have someone like you.

Junhan/Hyeongjun

Hyeongjun was feeling a little nervous about an upcoming fanmeet that Xdinary Heroes were having soon. You wanted to help him feel less nervous about it.

On the morning of the fanmeet you brewed Hyeongjun a cup of chamomile tea. You brought it to him in bed.

“Here, chamomile tea, it’s good for easing nerves,” you carefully handed him the steaming cup. Hyeongjun already felt touched by you being kind enough early just to make him tea. Little did he know you had other things planned to help him fight off the nerves about today. Unfortunately you were unable to attend today’s fanmeet due to having to work, but you weren’t gonna let that stop you from helping Hyeongjun. The night before you stayed up writing encouraging sticky notes and placing them throughout Hyeongjun’s things for him to find. After Hyeongjun got ready and left it didn’t take long for him to find the first sticky note. You placed it on his water bottle. He found it as he took it out to take a sip on the car ride to the fanmeet. “You got this!”, it read. It instantly brought a smile to his face. He found the second note after they arrived. It was in the bag he keeps his guitar picks in. It read, “Villains already adore you, so don’t be nervous :).” It made Hyeonjun chuckle and he did feel his nerves subside. The final note was stuck to his guitar. “I’m proud of you every single day. You’re so talented and amazing. I know you’ll do great today. I love you <3,” the note read. It was just what Hyeongjun needed to hear before going out. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, but knows that he’s never letting you go.

Jooyeon

Jooyeon and vegetables were not friends. Anytime he sees them he gets this disgusted, disapproving look on his face. You often had to reach accommodations with him about it when it came to cooking meals. You understand his dislikement towards vegetables, but it does worry you that sometimes he eats less, not enough, just to avoid eating vegetables.

Tonight you and Jooyeon were out on a date at a restaurant. Jooyeon hand picked the vegetables out of his food like he always did. Looking at the amount of food left on his dish made you frown. First you tried to reason with him about at least having a few bites of the vegetables. He whined and complained like a little kid about it, but you were still able to get him to put a few back on his plate. You were still worried about him eating enough though, so you gathered some of the meat from your own plate and put it onto his dish. Jooyeon looked up at you curiously.

“Just because you don’t like vegetables doesn’t mean you should undereat,” you told him. Jooyeon’s heart fluttered. You truly do care about him so much. You even sacrifice some of your own food to make sure that he’s healthy.

“Thank you,” he says with eyes lit up. You could tell how sincerely he meant the two simple words. He ate the meat you gave him happily. He told you that it tasted better because you gave it to him. He tries to think about things he can do for you to return the favor. He knows that you’re constantly looking out for him and he couldn’t be more lucky than to have you.

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nothingtoseeherebyeexx · 1 year ago

Text

Delicate, Chapter Four: Party in the USA…at Potter Manor? (Mary’s Version)

i had to split this chapter bc it was 9k words 😭 anyways mary meets the gang and everyone has fun!! ppl drink, dorcas and marlene are a mess, mary and lily are cuties.

< prev chapter next chapter >

Mary, surprisingly, was far more comfortable than she expected.

Narcissa had warned her that ‘small gathering’ for the Potters actually meant private met galas, but spending time with Narcissa and living with her had taught Mary that those distant, untouchable celebrities were, in the end, just human. If things got too overwhelming, Mary could always try to see this party like one of her high school proms, with jocks, nerds and mean girls. Sadly enough, it worked.

She also had Narcissa and Lily, who were extremely helpful in feeling less like a fish out of water.

Lily alone could distract her from everyone else by simply existing: in person, her eyes were the brightest shade of green, and her red hair flowed like a cloud every step she took. Her round face was scattered with freckles, (her arms, her cheeks, her nose, her forehead) and she had dimples when she smiled, that of course were the first thing Mary noticed, because the instant she had arrived at the door, Lily had beamed like a star. When she had taken her and Narcissa’s hands and dragged them to Mrs Potter, Mary was still too dizzy to worry about anything, and all the tension had disappeared.

“Effie, these are Mary MacDonald and Narcissa Black. Mary, Narcissa, this is Euphemia Potter.” Lily smiled, tilting her head.

The woman had wrinkles around her eyes and her dark hair was streaked of grey, but the look in her eyes was young and mischievous, her posture composed but not intimidating. She was wearing a bright pink sari and gold jewels that tingled when she held Mary’s hand affectionately. Her skin was a bit rough, but her palms and fingers were decorated with delicate flowers and complicated designs.

“Mary, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you! I’m James’ mother, he’ll be here soon enough. Lily has told us so much about-“

“Mary! Let me take you on a tour of the house.” Lily interjected with a tight smile, putting her hands on Mary’s shoulder and pulling her away, but she didn’t lead her really far. Effie didn’t seem too bothered by the interruption, and she soon started chatting with Narcissa instead.

Speaking of Narcissa, she seemed to have recovered quickly from her disastrous encounter with Alice, but Mary knew she was hurt. If anything, Narcissa’s polite smiles and friendly demeanour were a clear sign she was trying to act nonchalantly. Mary would talk to her about it, when they came home.

“Sadly, I have to greet the guests until the boys show up, so I can’t chat with you properly,” Lily apologised, “But I promise I’ll make it up to you once the party has really started.”

Since the room was a bit noisy and she didn’t want to shout, Mary turned her head to speak directly in Lily’s ear, pretending to be offended. “It’s a shame all these people are stealing you from me. At least Narcissa is still on my side.”

As if on cue, a loud gasp coming from a few steps form them attracted their attention.

“Oh my God. Narcissa Black?” called one of the mean-girl looking women, with a champagne glass in her left hand and the other dramatically pressed against her chest.

“Evelyn Zabini?” Narcissa answered, surprised, “Oh. My. God.”

The two ran to each other, exchanging a quick hug and affectionate kisses on cheek. Then they started talking so fast Mary couldn’t keep up, and was left on the sidelines watching the couple shoot words at each other faster than a machine gun.

“Ugh, more people are coming,” Lily cursed, turning to the entrance.

“I have to go. Zabini is with a friend of mine though,” she nodded towards the girl standing behind the woman. “She’s cool. I bet you’ll get along,” she added, giving Mary a squeeze before disappearing.

Mary appreciated Lily’s optimism, but the girl looked positively intimidating.

From a closer look Mary could tell she was younger and much taller than Evelyn Zabini, and was surely the best dressed at the party: her black hair was arranged in a complicated up-do, her locs ornated with gold jewellery, and she had plenty of rings, necklaces and bracelets to cover her fingers, neck and arms. Even her dress, white, long and figure-hugging, had gold accents, and she wore it proudly and easily, like a knight in armour. Mary was ready to bet her right heel that she was a model.

“Hi, I’m Dorcas Meadowes,” she introduced herself, politely, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around…What’s your name?”

Okay, so scratch the mean girl part, Dorcas seemed pretty nice, despite the austere appearance.

“I’m Mary MacDonald,” she smiled, “I’m a friend of Narcissa’s. I’m releasing an album soon, so I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of me yet.”

“I like the ‘yet’,” Dorcas smirked, “But if you’re that Mary MacDonald, then I actually have heard of you before…did you perform with Narcissa for the Yule Festival?”

“Yes, I did,” answered Mary, surprised. “And you remembered me after a single song?”

“You sang really well. And, well, I have my ways to stay informed.”

That did feel a bit ominous, but Mary just nodded along.

“So…you’re a friend Lily’s. Are you also a singer?”

“Oh, I wish!” Dorcas chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand. “No, I’m a model.”

Told you.

And then, Lily was right next to her, her sage green dress swishing. There was always something in motion with Lily, Mary didn’t know where to look.

“They’re here!” Lily proclaimed, grabbing Mary’s arm.

“Is Marlene with them, too?” Dorcas asked, with renewed interest.

“Of course she is,” Lily smirked, “Are you going to talk to her this time, Cas?”

“Oh, shut up.” Dorcas rolled her eyes, and then the three of them, followed by the rest of the people in the room, walked towards the entrance.

Ten minutes in, and Mary had already lost Narcissa. Peachy.

All around her, people were eyeing the door, whispering excitedly.

“Once the others arrive, the party can really start,” murmured Lily with a soft smile.

And soon enough, a blonde girl slammed the door open, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Make way, the King is back from war! All hail Peter Pettigrew!” she announced, and with a theatrical twirl, she made space for the three boys behind her.

“He was actually on tour, but Marlene loves being dramatic,” explained Lily, radiant. Mary could read in Lily’s face that she was enamoured with her friends, and she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest: she had never really felt a connection to the people she used to hang with, being busy with part time jobs and helping her parents with chores and taking care of her brothers, so all the friendships she had in high school had quickly died after graduation.

She supposed she had grown too quickly for the other kids her age.

If the atmosphere up until five minutes before was overall calm and formal, the boys’ arrival surely changed the mood: the quiet whispers turned to shouts, the polite laughs to whistles. Two boys, that Mary recognised as Sirius Black and James Potter, had entwined their arms forming a human throne for the third young man, Peter Pettigrew, to sit on during his regal entrance, and they were all stumbling inside rather precariously. (“Lower, lower, you’ll hit the door!” “We’re trying, Marls!”)

James and Sirius lowered Peter to the ground, and immediately shielded him from the crowd, like bodyguards would do, but Peter was still greeting everyone like a king meeting his subjects. The crowd went along with it, cheering and extending their arms like insatiable fans.

Lily launched herself at Peter with a laugh, ending the ridiculous farce. People slowly went back to their conversations, but the house seemed livelier, louder than before.

“Black, King Peter is under attack! Restrain this woman!” James shouted, and tried to detach Lily from Peter, but the both of them just hugged each other more tightly.

“Her aura is too strong, Potter! McKinnon, we need help!” called Sirius.

“That’s enough, boys,” interjected Peter, slightly out of breath. “Let me say hi to our Lils. Hi, Lils.”

“Hi, Pete,” she smiled. “How was the tour?”

“Fun. Exhausting. How are you?”

“Very well. Actually,” she turned to James and Sirius, “I have to introduce you all to someone. Marlene, you’d better not have spoiled the surprise.”

Mary wasn’t really far from them, actually, but being all so focused on each other, the group hadn’t noticed her presence, yet. That of course changed when Lily, after giving her a reassuring look, gently put a hand on her shoulder and led her closer to her friends.

“Mary, these are my friends. People, this is Mary MacDonald.”

A small part of Mary was a bit scared of the heavy judgement that was bound to happen, but the eyes of her jury seemed to quickly light up in recognition.

James was the first to speak. He was wearing a bright button down and gold rimmed glasses, paired with a bright smile. Apparently, all of Lily’s friends smiled a lot.

“Hello, Mary. I’m James Potter, it’s a pleasure to meet you. You look amazing, by the way.” He offered her his hand and she shook it gladly. Before she could even reply, though, Sirius barged in with a grin. He looked like a rockstar from the seventies, with the leather jacket and flared jeans that drove girls insane.

“Sirius Black. You’re the girl who sang with my cousin, right?”

“Yes. I’ve been working with Narcissa for a few months now.”

“Damn…Willingly?” he asked, sincerely worried.

That genuinely made her laugh, and it was Peter’s cue to introduce himself.

Mary had the sneaky suspicion they were trying to surpass each other at making her comfortable.

“Peter Pettigrew. These idiots made sure everyone knew it the moment I stepped in the room, though, so…” he said fondly, and shook her hand. “Lily told us about you-“

“Mary! You haven’t met Marls yet!” Lily interrupted him, and soon the blonde had her arms wrapped around Mary’s neck. Mary reluctantly hugged her back, and let Marlene rest her chin on her shoulder.

“Marlene McKinnon. And yes, Lily hasn’t stopped talking about you since she saw your video,” Mary noticed the glare sent in Marlene’s direction.

Lily had been talking about her. Oh.

“Holy shit.” Marlene whispered, tightening her arms around Mary and blocking her from thinking too much about the implications of Lily Evans talking to her friends (repeatedly) about her.

“Marlene,” greeted Dorcas.

“Meadowes,” Marlene replied, icy, and Mary couldn’t see her face but she had the feeling she was being used like a human shield, covering Marlene by the deadly, super-model shaped threat.

“Is Regulus coming?” asked said threat to Sirius. Marlene let Mary go.

“Yes, he’s picking up Pandora. They’ll be here soon, I think.“ Sirius replied, turning to the door and glancing at the dark, empty street.

Coincidentally, a young man appeared on the doorstep, apparently searching for someone with his eyes.

He was certainly not Regulus: he was ridiculously tall and looked a bit out of place, with his white t-shirt and jeans. He had tattoos on his arms, snaking around light scars.

“Remus!” Peter called, approaching him with open arms.

“Oh, hey,” Remus answered, “I’ve parked your car, but I couldn’t find a closer spot so you’ll have to walk down the street. It’s on the right, after the yellow house,” he continued, pointing to somewhere in the dark, the car keys tingling with every movement. He had a deep voice, a bit husky, and a Welsh accent.

“Before I leave, I wanted to bring you your keys-“

“Oh, friend of mine,” Peter laughed, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ve fallen into my trap. I’m now forcing you to meet the rest of my friends. Guys, this is my bassist, Remus Lupin!”

As he approached the group, Remus’ gaze travelled from Peter to them, a mix of panic and annoyance, and stopped on Lily, who was squinting at him, focused.

“I know you!” She exclaimed, pointing at him, “You played at one of my first concerts! You’re the tall dude who reads Virginia Woolf!”

Remus laughed, surprised, and offered his hand. “Lily Evans. How did you even recognise me? It’s been years!”

“Remus,” explained Lily, “You’re a scary tall bassist who reads classics pre-shows. Most people usually get high. Of course I remember you!”

“I let my hair grow, though!” Remus protested, pointing to his head for further proof.

“A haircut doesn’t completely change your appearance-“

“Now that’s a lie, Lils,” interjected Sirius, then looked at Remus. The dramatic pause felt a bit suspicious to Mary, but surely Black was not going to flirt with-

“I’m Sirius Black.”

“I know,” Remus shook his hand and added, sarcastic, “It’s your real name? I thought it was just a stage thing.”

“Watch your mouth, Remus Lupin who reads Virginia Woolf,” Sirius said with an eyebrow raised and a smirk that didn’t falter. “Do you have ‘ALPHA WOLF’ tattooed somewhere, too?”

“You’re onto me. Stick around and find out,” Remus countered, raising his palms.

Oh, they were so going to hook up. Mary generously gave them forty minutes.

The rest of the introductions were less flirtatious, although it was hard to tell in James’ case: Mary guessed that probably Potter was like that with everyone. (“I’m James Potter. Where did Peter find you, Remus? You’re handsome as hell!” “Thank you. He found me in a dumpster.” “That is correct.”)

As Lily, Marlene, Peter, James and Sirius started talking animatedly, Mary was inevitably cut off from the conversation, but at least she was in good company: she, Dorcas and Remus stood next to each other, a bit awkwardly, and their hands were promptly occupied by glasses of champagne. Not like Mary was going to drink so soon.

“This may be a bad time to confess that I’m terrible at remembering names, and there are a lot of people here already,” whispered Remus, “Is anyone else coming?”

“Sirius’ brother and another friend,” replied Dorcas easily. “Pandora is unforgettable, so I don’t think you’ll have problems with her. Regulus looks exactly like his brother, but he’s more…reserved.”

“Do you know them well?” asked Mary.

“We’re friends, have been for a while now,” then she added, with a malicious smirk, “Have you heard the rumours about Regulus and Pandora?”

“Rumours? What, they’re together?” asked Remus.

“They say so on the Internet,” sighed Mary, “But I wouldn’t be so sure. You can’t trust what they say online.”

Dorcas glanced at her, looking pleased. “Lily did say you didn’t seem bothered by the public opinion.”

“I don’t care for the words of people I don’t care about,” Mary shrugged. She had accepted to work with Lily because Narcissa and Amelia thought it would be a good idea, and even the impression she had of Lily was more than positive.

“Anyways,” Mary continued, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “You’re friends with Lily and her lot. As much as I enjoy your presence, why are you here and not with them?”

“You-“ Dorcas pressed her lips together, stressed, and averted her gaze, focusing on the champagne glass in her hand. “It’s complicated. I mean, I’m not the one making it complicated, but-“

During the silence that followed, Mary and Remus glanced at each other, sharing that complicity only two people who are going to be annoying to a love-struck fool share.

They moved closer to Dorcas.

“What happened, Dorcas?” cooed Remus.

“Who’s breaking you heart, Cas?” mocked Mary.

“You two are horrible,” declared Dorcas, bashful. It was strange, seeing her so timid, but Mary found it endearing.

“Sirius, he’s here!” James exclaimed, out of the blue.

Regulus Black had indeed stepped into the house, holding hands with a girl that was presumably Pandora Lovegood. They made for a really odd pair: where Regulus had short, black hair, Pandora had long, blonde locs; the first had pale skin dotted with moles, the second a darker, smooth complexion; he was wearing an elegant black suit, she looked like her outfit had been weaved from clouds during a sunset. They were polar opposites, but somehow it made sense, like they balanced each other.

Sirius’ head perked up and in seconds he was approaching his brother, going for a hug, but Regulus averted him easily, letting Pandora wrap her arms around Sirius instead. The man drooped on her, acknowledging Regulus’ victory, and started swaying, crestfallen, still holding a giggling Pandora. After she patted Sirius’ sorrows away, she let him go and jumped into Dorcas’ arms, giving her a kiss on the cheek and an enthusiastic “Hi!”, and then did the same to her other friends, even when it came to Mary and Remus’ turn.

Mary thought she smelled like candy, and it was extremely fitting.

Regulus simply gave everyone a nod. Reserved, alright.

“Who are the strangers?” asked Pandora, grabbing Regulus’ hand and motioning towards Mary and Remus’ general direction.

“She’s Mary MacDonald,” explained Lily, “She’s a singer.”

“Not yet, Evans,” smiled Mary, “I have yet to publish my album.”

“Technicalities.”

“Regulus Black,” greeted the boy, politely offering his free hand. Mary shook it and found it cold, which was also extremely fitting.

“And he,” intervened Peter, grabbing Remus by the shoulders, “Is Remus Lupin. My bassist.”

Regulus shook hands with him, too.

“He was mine, first. Enjoy my leftovers, Pettigrew,” smirked Lily.

“Keep an eye on Potter then, Red,” joked Peter, winking at James.

So James and Lily had dated, then. Mary wouldn’t have guessed it, just by looking at them: they seemed pretty at ease around each other, which was unusual for exes.

“Are we going to stand here all night?” asked Regulus. “Because if that’s the case, I’d like to at least have a drink in hand.”

“I’ll make you one,” offered James, “Mum should also be in the kitchen, she’ll be happy to see you.”

“Is Fleamont here, too?” Regulus asked.

“He’s probably in his study. We can stop by, if you want to say hello.” James smiled.

Apparently, the Potter’s were used to having James’ friends around, given how at home everyone looked. Would Mary have something like that, too?

“Okay,” Regulus nodded, then turned to Pandora, who was still holding his hand.

“Do you want anything?”

She thought about it. “Mmmh…do you have pomegranate juice?”

“I’ll…see what I can do,” answered James, unsure.

And with that, he and Regulus left, and an embarrassed silence fell on the rest of the group.

“…Shall we reclaim our sofa?” suggested Peter.

One hour later, Mary found herself squeezed between Dorcas and Marlene, sitting on a sofa that surely wasn’t designed for six people: James, Sirius and Peter were also with them, and they kept moving around and swaying so much that Mary thought one of them was bound to fall off, sooner or later. Lily was sitting on the sofa’s armrest and talking to Remus, who was on the floor. The boys had tried multiple times to convince him to lay on them, but Remus had wisely declined the offer.

Regulus and Pandora were sharing an armchair, and Mary couldn’t help but feel conflicted: those two really acted like a couple, and at the same time there wasn’t any romantic tension between them.

There was tension between Marlene and Dorcas, though: the model had tried multiple times to strike a conversation with Marlene, who resolutely ignored her. Mary attempted to help Dorcas by trying to include Marlene while they were chatting, but the couple ended up bickering, so she had ultimately given up.

Mary had even ended up there completely by accident: Marlene at first had sat next to Lily, but then Lily left her spot for Mary ‘who never had sofa privileges’, and then Dorcas had sat next to Mary.

An unfortunate turn of events that saw Mary trying to divert the awkwardness by eavesdropping on Remus and Lily’s conversations and keeping an eye on Narcissa: Mary did lose her at the beginning of the party, but she had kept an eye on the kitchen door, since Fortescue still hadn’t left the room, so as long as she stayed there and Narcissa stayed not there, Mary didn’t have to worry.

“Oi, why don’t we play Soundtrack?” proposed James, after a while. Sirius, Peter and Marlene immediately agreed, while Lily and Regulus groaned simultaneously.

“Every time we play that game I forget every title of any song I’ve ever listened to,” lamented Lily, while Regulus protested, “Someone always ends up making it dirty. Always.”

In the commotion stirred by Regulus and Lily’s uncooperativeness (“Don’t be a party pooper Evans.” “It isn’t always sexual, Reg!”), Mary managed to make herself heard when she asked, curious, “What is Soundtrack?”

The group quieted down, probably realising that Mary, along with Remus and apparently even Dorcas, had never played the game. For some reason, James and Sirius seemed particularly shocked by the fact.

“It’s easy,” James started explaining, “Someone makes up a scenario, or chooses a topic, and the others have to think of the title of a song that best describes it. Then the group votes for the funniest pick, and the winner decides the next topic.”

“Seems easy enough,” commented Remus. “Who’s starting?”

“So we’re actually playing, then,” sighed Regulus. “I’m quitting as soon as someone makes it dirty. I’m warning you.”

“I’ll start,” said James, turning on the sofa to face as many people as possible, although it was difficult in his disadvantageous position.

“Imagine,” he began, emphasising his words by spreading his arms. “It’s Friday night and you’ve just got home from the bar, you’re a bit drunk, and have no clue where your home is-“

“I forgot James was the one with the long-ass scenarios.”

“-It’s part of the fun, Baby Black. You’re trying to find your home, and suddenly an old woman appears…”

They play some rounds, and Mary has fun, indeed. Lily’s shocked face when Pandora used the title of one of her songs was priceless (“You listen to my songs???” “Of course! Girls support girls!”), and Sirius’ explanations behind each and every title he chose were ridiculous, but James was always there to back him up. Even Marlene and Dorcas were almost at ease, despite being so close.

In the end, it was time for Dorcas to choose a topic. She looked at Regulus maliciously, and he immediately tensed next to Pandora, who was slowly slipping off the armchair.

“Describe your sexual life-“

“Fine, Meadowes, if you wanted to stop playing, you could’ve just said so.”

“Come on, Reggie,” smiled Sirius. “It’s the funniest part!”

“Not when your brother is also playing,” Regulus retorted.

“Jesus, it’s just a game! I don’t want to think about you being involved in…” Sirius made a disgusted face. “Those activities, either. It doesn’t have to be true.”

“Fine. Nobody, then,” Regulus answered, snide, like picking a notoriously depressing song for a vulgar question consisted as an act of rebellion against his brother.

Well, at least now Mary had one more reason to believe he and Pandora were not together.

“Emo bitch,” Sirius whispered.

“Supermassive Black Hole,” Peter said, looking straight ahead like a divine entity had foretold him the answer. Marlene cracked up.

“Escapism,” Mary proposed, getting a few grave nods from Remus and James, and a “that’s deep,” from Dorcas.

“Don’t Stop Me Now,” offered James smirking, and Sirius shoved him (causing the rest of the people one the sofa to squeeze even more) for stealing his answer.

“Under Pressure,” said Remus, and Sirius turned to him, this time, so quickly his neck almost snapped.

“Queen fan?”

“Bowie, mostly. But I like Queen, too.”

Mary noticed that, surprisingly, Remus and Sirius hadn’t fucked yet. She suspected Remus enjoyed the flirting but wasn’t that willing to jump on Sirius the first time they met, while Sirius, well…Sirius was a bit of a mess when it came to the scary bassist.

Mary didn’t give them enough credit.

“I have it! 4 Minutes” exclaimed Lily, clapping her hands, and James, along with everyone else, immediately erupted into loud laughter.

Mary was suddenly struck by how unbothered everyone around them was: even she had forgotten she was at a party, a fancy party, with rich, famous people. Even the young adults surrounding her, they were all supposed to feel far, far from her. Powerful. Unattainable.

But James Potter laughed, Peter Pettigrew shoved a giggling Sirius Black, and Lily Evans’ face became red from embarrassment.

It was so easy to feel like one of them.

“Oh, uhmmm…” Pandora looked troubled. “Who are you. There must be a song called like that.”

“It doesn’t count if you use a normal sentence, Dora. If it doesn’t exist, you’ll have to pick another,” said Peter, struggling to pull out his phone from his pocket. “There’s one, it’s called Who Are You, by The Who.”

Then he turned the volume as high as possible, and everyone got closer to hear.

“…Is it the fucking CSI Intro?”

The music was quickly drowned by shameless laughter that didn’t stop until the song was over.

Even Regulus chuckled, for the amusement of anyone who noticed.

“Oh my-Okay. Okay, my turn,” began Sirius, still breathless, ”Now, this was my third option, so it’s not the best,”

“Excuses. Just say it sucks and let’s move on,” interrupted Regulus, well settled on the armchair. He looked pretty entertained despite his aversion to the topic. Pandora, in the meantime, had fallen to the floor, since apparently the weight of thinking of an answer had slowly pushed her off the seat.

“A boost to the ego. Thank you, Reg. My answer was Glad You Came, but my brother brutally decapitated my confidence, so…”

Sirius was met with chuckles from everyone (but his brother, since the first rule for younger siblings is to never gratify the oldest, in any way), so his morale was still high.

“It’s a really good option,” commented Lily, wheezing, “but we still have to hear Marlene’s.”

“The best for last,” she smiled, smug, and then she looked at all of them solemnly. “Drum rolls, please?” Everyone immediately complied.

“The title to best depict my sexual life, truthfully and currently, would be Me and Your Mama, specifically yours, Potter,” and she winked at James, who immediately made a gagging noise while everyone, for the umpteenth time that night, lost it.

“Effie truly is a wonderful woman,” Mary agreed.

“I’m so glad to see you have taste,” replied Marlene, putting an arm around her shoulders. If she had accidentally touched Dorcas, she didn’t give any sign of acknowledging it. Since she was so close, Mary could see that Marlene had small freckles on her skin, and her front teeth were slightly gapped. She reminded her of those mischievous elves you’d see on illustrations of old tales, the ones that would trip lost adventurers and steal their food.

“We should add her to the group chat!” she proposed to the rest of the group. “Remus, too!”

“You have a group chat together? All of you?” asked Dorcas, and the mood instantly changed, the laughter dying in favour of an awkward silence.

Mary felt strangely guilty.

Oh, this was awful.

“…I’ve tried to add you, Cas,” intervened Regulus, breaking the silence. He seemed sincerely sorry.

“But someone, I won’t name names-“

“I will, it’s Marlene,” interjected Pandora. Marlene glared daggers at her, but not for long: it was hard to hold grudges against Pandora, Mary was learning.

“Someone keeps removing me when I suggest it.”

Dorcas nodded, icy. “McKinnon-“

Marlene abruptly stood up. “I think it’s time to do some shots.”

“I could use a drink,” lied Mary: she just needed an excuse, and at least with a drink in hand she would have something tangible to focus on. Anything to dissipate the tension.

“Me too!” added Lily, jumping off the sofa. “I’m coming with you.”

Mary and Lily watched from a safe distance an angry Marlene stomping into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of liquor Mary didn’t recognise and taking sips directly from the bottle. After five gulps, Lily decided to intervene, taking the bottle from Marlene’s hands.

“Marls, you don’t want to throw up in Effie’s kitchen.”

“But what if I did?” Marlene replied folding over the sink, but then she lifted her head.

“Never mind, I’m fine. Make your drinks and pass the bottle, I’m going for round two.”

“Round six,” Lily muttered, picking two plastic cups and some bottles. “What do you want?”

“Oh,” Mary replied, “I’ll make mine myself. I don’t really like alcohol.”

Actually, during the past months Mary had opened up to alcohol: she didn’t drink much, she had never liked to get blacked out drunk, not even before…that, but at least a glass of wine or a drink didn’t scare her anymore.

Still, she preferred to mix her own drinks, just to be sure she knew what was in them.

“…They’re not always like that, you know. They have this feud going on, but it’ll have to end, sooner or later,” Lily whispered to Mary, pouring some vodka in her own cup. “Actually, you handled those two way better than I expected.”

“It was hard,” Mary murmured, “But also somewhat entertaining? They either ignore each other or bicker.”

Lily looked at her from the corner of her eye.

“How long until they admit their feelings?”

“Please, Dorcas would do it in a heartbeat.”

“Probably,” Lily chuckled. “Could you pass me the Diet Coke, please? It’s in the fridge.”

When Mary couldn’t tell where the refrigerator was, Lily pointed it to her with ease.

“You seem pretty at home here,” commented Mary, passing the can. She noticed a bottle of apple juice, and decided to fill a cup for Narcissa.

“I used to come here all the time when I was dating James, it really became a sort of second home for me,” smiled Lily.

“Oh, so you two did date,” said Mary, picking two straws from a container on the counter.

“Well, yes,” Lily replied, sounding shy. She looked like she wanted to add something, but stopped herself.

“I’m taking that,” intervened Marlene, grabbing the vodka bottle, left unsupervised. “And I’ll look for Alice. Still haven’t seen her,” she muttered (more to herself than to Mary and Lily), and went deeper into the kitchen, saluting the five men who were drinking shots on the table before disappearing.

“I wonder why she acts like that around Dorcas,” commented Mary, “She seemed pretty nice.”

“Dorcas is amazing,” replied Lily, “But Marlene is mad at her for something that happened a long time ago. I love her, but she’s being childish, and I’ve told her a million times, but she won’t listen.”

Her tone became more and more reprimanding as she spoke, and she ended up sipping her drink like an angry middle-aged mother.

It was kind of adorable.

Mary smiled, understanding, “She’ll figure it out, eventually.”

Lily shrugged, then hopped on the counter. She was staring directly at the cupboard in front of her, seeming lost in thought. Mary hadn’t seen Lily so serious the whole time she had spent with her, which admittedly wasn’t much, but still, this change felt new.

“I was worried, you know,” began Lily, “I thought you would refuse my offer.”

Mary frowned. Lily was talented, famous, and from what she had gathered, she was also friendly and fun. Why would she refuse to work with her? If anything, Mary should’ve been worried: but she was the inexperienced one, here.

Lily saw the confused look on her face, and gave her a small, incredulous grin.

“Do you really not know? Narcissa didn’t say anything about me?”

“Woah, Evans, don’t sound so shocked,” joked Mary.

Lily nudged her.

“I’m just saying,” she replied, smiling shyly at the drink in her hands. Mary felt the need to break the silence.

“They have sent me links about…everything that’s happened, but I didn’t open them.”

Lily’s head perked up, curious. “Why?”

“I have learnt a few things in these months. Mind you, I was never one to obsess over celebrities,” clarified Mary, “But I used to keep up with the drama surrounding the Black family, because, you know…” She rolled her eyes, ashamed. “I really liked Narcissa, so…”

“Aww, you were a fangirl!” mocked Lily, pouting condescendingly.

Mary felt her cheeks heat up.

“I stopped the instant she threw Bunny at me for the first time!” she exclaimed, making Lily laugh loudly.

“Who is Bunny?” she asked, wheezing.

“It’s a long story. Anyway, once I started getting to know her, I realised half of the things they said about her online and in magazines was false, so I stopped reading them. Sorry if I don’t know every little aspect of your life,” she concluded, closing her eyes petulantly.

“Don’t apologise,” said Lily, her voice sweet and empty of mocking.

“I like that about you.”

Mary opened her eyes, and found Lily staring at her fondly. She was dangling her legs off the edge of the counter.

“Are you not going to ask anything?”

A moment passed, and Mary was aware Lily was studying her. Her intentions, her sincerity.

“Anything you want tell me.”

“…The people you see here are the only ones I can count on,” Lily explained. “They didn’t turn their back on me when things got bad, and even now they don’t mind being seen around me-and they could mind,” she continued, noticing Mary’s crossed expression.

“Because people who are seen with me are inevitably dragged by the media. Even you,” she bumped Mary’s side with her knee, “Are not safe.“

“I’m so scared. Wow.” Mary deadpanned.

Lily smiled, but not enough to show her dimples.

“I won’t tell you much because this is a party and I’m supposed to get absolutely sloshed, not depressed. I became popular as a singer when I was sixteen. I was young, and naive, and I wore my heart on my sleeve: I didn’t have the maturity to separate private matters from my public image. I was young and stupid, the boys were young and stupid, and stupid sixteen year olds get into stupid relationships. When I inevitably broke up with my boyfriends, I had the instinct to write about it. So, I became famous because of my failed relationships.”

“Many singers write love songs,” replied Mary.

“Not many singers are sixteen year old girls,” countered Lily with a sad smile.

“But I learnt my lesson, and I grew up to become a little less stupid. At eighteen I started focusing more on my work, and when during interviews they would only ask about my love stories, I tried to divert the attention. I was still a kid, but I was more reserved about my relationships. Still, paparazzi were onto me, photographing me every time I stepped out of my house, so everything was still made public.”

“That’s terrible, Lily.”

“I got used to it.”

The party outside the kitchen had gotten louder and more chaotic: Mary thought she could hear James and Sirius singing. Well, at least they had left the sofa.

“Whatever,” continued Lily, shaking her head. “Last year I had a fight with…an acquaintance of mine. A famous acquaintance. He liked me, he wasn’t reciprocated, and of course the media found out and started bashing me when I rejected him. Things quickly escalated, and now I’m a fucking pariah. Not for long, though.”

She jumped off the counter and offered Mary her arm. “Come one, let’s see what’s going on over there,” Lily suggested.

Mary wanted to say something, anything, to comfort Lily, but all words seemed to have left her mind.

“Thank you for telling me, Lily,” she managed, “If you ever need anything, I’m here.”

Mary wasn’t sure about what she could give to Lily that she didn’t already have, but the woman’s smile was grateful, regardless. Maybe Lily was one of those who believed that ‘it’s the thought that counts’.

Mary was pretty much the opposite, and because of that she hated that she couldn’t do anything real to help Lily.

They walked back into the living room, arm in arm.

#fic: delicate #mary macdonald #lily evans #narcissa black #alice fortescue #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #pandora lovegood #put all the girlies first #remus lupin #regulus black #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #marylily #nobleflower #dorlene #wolfstar #jegulus

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