#I just feel bad and need a jumpstart

[dantelionwishes]

whoops, late komiket pride post !

i don't usually do this, but i'm severely artblocked and i have post-con blues soooo ... feel free to read ..?

sorry i didn't end up tagging anyone . if it shows up to them or to you, it shows up ! im already being this vulnerable so tagging them is gna make me more embarrassed LOLL

btw yes to me being vulnerable already includes thanking people HAHAHA its almost like showing genuine emotion is showing too much of my authentic self and idk ... thats kinda embarrassing ...... 😬💦💦💦 (grew up in a plastik household)

ANYWAY WOO HAPPY PRIDE!!! ive never outed myself online as trans (id rather kms than admit it) but uhm i guess with this post im explicitly announcing it one way or another .

im trying to move out and transition so id appreciate it if anyone could ... um . yeah (https://ko-fi.com/dandellation)

[keeps-ache]

HEY

[bunny584]

A Girl with No Name

A/N: This one shot POURED out of me. All because of this incredible art by @chu-cho Thank you for creating this masterpiece. Hope I can do your art justice. 

Ok, let me set the scene. Euphoria, SKINS, and Degrassi procreated in the basement of Kappa Alpha. Keg to the right. A designer tray of substances to the left. The boys in the middle. And you…you crack the whi— what? Who said that? 

CW: Frat AU, implied substance use, mature 18+, MDNI

‘Ain’t a pill that I didn’t take’

Lyrics that feel too familiar tread water between Suguru’s ears. They glide along his skin. Which feels like silk, by the way. 

Silk.

Who ever made that is a Nobel laureate.  

‘Cause Imma sleep when I R.I.P.’ 

Euphoria. 

Who chose the lights?

They’re vivid. Swarming. Like the walls are a tile dance floor. Yeah. Light picker deserves a Nobel too.

“You are so fucked right now.” His best friend’s sharp ass voice dices his lucid thoughts to smithereens. 

“Shut up, Satoru.” He’s not wrong. 

“We took the same shit.” Suguru perches on the solo cup ridden kitchen island. Sitting is good. 

“Plus, I’m bigger than you.” 

“If you wanna compare dicks just say so.” Satoru sneers, he’s cockier when inebriated. 

In any other instance when Suguru is of sound mind, Satoru would’ve caught a jab to the chest. But two reasons why that can’t happen. 

One, he’s currently tripping balls. 

Two, you just walked in. 

Like you own the house. 

Maneuvering your body around the active pong table. Slipping past the chatty women gawking in their direction. Gearing for attack. Shifty and nervous, but the vodka cranberry is courage elixir. 

The boys have about 45 seconds to engage with said women or divert. 

But you are currently leaning over the counter reaching for a shot glass well out of your zip code. A little red dress on. All curves, no brakes. With an ass that could make anyone believe in God. 

Sorry, girls. Tonight, they are going to divert. 

Suguru catches Satoru’s heady gaze. No words needed. They share instincts. The boys have been in stride since the day they met. 

They saunter over to the counter you’re mounting. An easy reach for them both. 

“Didn’t realize your name was on the lease, princess.” 

Satoru plucks the double shot glass down from Mount Everest. Handing it over between two fingers. 

Still propped up on the counter with one knee, you peer down at them both. Letting the white noise of utter disinhibition drape the space between you. 

Suguru planned on softening Satoru’s blow, but then you smile. 

Cavalier and gorgeous.

Like it’s a golden ticket into spaces you don’t belong in. 

The answer to questions people don’t realize need asking. 

The cure for everything. 

And right now? It is. The cure.

Suguru stands stupefied as you brace yourself on his shoulders. Thank God his hands still know what to do. They snake around your tapered waist and pull you to solid ground. 

Speak, dumbass.

“You didn’t? It’s in the fine print.” Your voice beats him to it. And is fucking dessert. 

Bad for you. Horrible for you. But good in the way self-indulgence is.

You take your shot glass (really, anything in the house is yours if you want it). And steer away to the refrigerator.

Your absence jumpstarts Suguru’s out-of-commission brain. 

“Excuse him, he was raised by monkeys. Can I help you find something?” 

Suguru and Satoru reposition themselves behind you while you rummage. Bent over at the waist. Head nearly submerged in the pull out freezer. 

Are you doing this on purpose? 

Are you trying to be a cocktease? 

Satoru isn’t even attempting to stop eye-fucking you. 

Suguru pulls his tongue ring in and out of his teeth. Anything to stop ruminating on the melody of sounds that’ll fill the room when his hips slam into your ass repeatedly. 

“There it is,” you stand back to your full height. Triumphant. Jack Daniels in hand. 

Your eyes are pools of quicksand. Why else would Suguru’s mouth feel more stuck than his feet? 

“You’re a whiskey, kind of girl?” Satoru smirks, amused at your vice choice. 

Again, the boys follow your movements like two expertly trained German Shepards. Flanking you when you settle at the corner of the island. Meticulously over-pouring your first double shot. 

“I’m a good time kind of girl.” The way your slender neck tilts back is immoral. Throating the dark liquid like water.

…what else can that throat handle? 

“Okay, good time girl wh—“ 

“Listen.” You snip Satoru’s snide remark at its base. Leaving both of them silent. Watching. Waiting. 

“Brad,” you pointedly look at Suguru.

“And Chad,” eyes dagger into Satoru.

“Thank you for the warm welcome but I’m not interested in talking.” 

The back of your hand swipes against your full lips. And Suguru can’t seem to pull his eyes off of them.

Satoru, after a moment of stunned silence, lets out his laugh. The one that means you’ve won his undivided attention for the night. 

“Close, but no cigar baby. Try again.” Satoru leans onto his forearms. Tilting his intoxicated gaze up at you. 

“Right idea, though.” Suguru chimes in. Tongue finally deciding to work. 

“Ahh, I hear you loud and clear.” You retort, golden-ticket smile back on your face. 

Your nose wrinkles in feigned concentration and Suguru nearly passes out.

Are you really this hot? Or is he just that blasted? 

 “Preppy,” your hand cups Satoru’s face. And his Adam’s Apple bobs deeply. 

Good, Satoru is feeling this as hard as he is. 

“And Edgy.” Suguru gawks at the way your lips hang open after your snarky guess at his name leaves your mouth.

Satoru’s wolfish chuckle is what re-tethers Suguru to this dimension. How the fuck is he keeping up with you right now? 

“No, no. I got it.” You pipe up. 

Placing one hand over each of theirs. Suguru greedily intertwines his long fingers between your petite ones. 

“Thunder.” You squeeze Suguru’s hand and his soul nearly leaks out of his dick. 

“And Lightening.” 

Cotton candy dusts Satoru’s nose to his ears when you look up at him. Suguru can see the vulgar scenarios on cinematic repeat in his best friend’s mind.

And it’s tame compared to the ways Suguru wants to disrespect you. 

“We can work with that.” Suguru flashes a smile of his own. Purposefully keeping his tongue ring out of your view. 

“And what can we call you?” Satoru probes. Zeroed in because no one else in the room exists. 

Your hands return back to your side, and Suguru misses your warmth immediately. 

“No name.” 

Flippant. Lighthearted like what you said was normal. 

“What was that?” Satoru spurts out. Saliva bubbling in his half open mouth. 

You glide away from the kitchen. Into the den with bodies colliding. Walls thrumming. Lights strobing.

Delicate hands cup around your mouth. Turning back to face your new guard dogs. 

“Not here to talk, boys!” 

The three of you are interwined at the center of the crowded room in seconds. 

But time is warped.

Because Suguru is traversing Death Zone altitude on the mountain. And Satoru is swimming at Abyssal Zone depth in the ocean. 

You are the 8th cardinal sin. 

You writhe and undulate your curves in and out of their grasp. Gripping onto Satoru’s neck, strumming his undercut when he’s facing you. Winding your hips against Suguru’s crotch when he’s behind you. 

Suguru’s cock has never been this hard, he’s half worried it could snap in half. Hissing against your neck. Groaning behind your ear. So goddamn grateful for the music drowning out his desperation. 

But his skin is on fire. He can feel every vessel pulsate.

You are not a want. 

You are a need. 

“Need you.” Suguru gruffs in your ear. Flickering up to Satoru, who is mirroring his hooded gaze. 

Suguru watches your pretty hand trail down Satoru’s chest. Satoru rolls his bottom lip under his teeth. Apt nickname you chose for him, because there are lightening bolts in his eyes. 

“Take me upstairs,” you whisper back, tilting up to capture Suguru in your web. 

And he is so captured. So entangled. 

The boys lead you to Suguru’s bedroom in the frat house. Even though the walk felt like miles, exactly no time passes when you three close the door behind you.

Suguru’s lips magnet to yours. Insatiable in the way he sucks and pulls on your lips. Tongue tasting every corner of your sweet mouth. 

Satoru drops his head to the crook of your neck. Sucking bruises. Tracing his large grasp up and underneath your dress. No time or room for manners with how his cock is tenting against its weak restraints.

“So eager, boys.” You giggle in between their hungry kisses. 

And you’re right. 

It’s embarrassing, their display right now. 

But neither one of them have the capacity to stop. 

And hold it together. 

And lead. Like they both are used to. 

“Sorry,” Satoru grunts into the feminine slope of your neck. You let out an airy laugh when he starts to dry hump you. Tickling both of their incapable brains. 

You know Satoru is so far gone. 

And Suguru is trying to hold on to some semblance of dignity but his cock simply won’t let him. Not the way it’s drenching his sweats with need. 

“Take these off.” Melodic instructions fill Satoru and Suguru’s ears the minute you pull away from Suguru’s kiss. Your index finger hooked on both hems. 

As if your voice is a Pavlovian trigger, the boys step out of their pants and boxers. 

Rock hard. Desperate. Leaking. 

Your personal drones. 

Suguru can’t swallow the whimper that collides with Satoru’s whine when your hands drop to stroke both of them at the same time. Flickering your eyes between your two toys. Proud of the way their cocks are twitching and pumping beads of precum into your hands.

“God, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, princess.”

Satoru and Suguru are dizzy with heat. 

Just in time for you to drop to your knees. Dragging your closed, lipsticked lips along Suguru’s up curve.

“Please,” Suguru whispers.

You’re evil. 

And you ignore him. Dragging your soft, warm hand up the length of his shaft. Interjecting butterfly kisses in between. Working Satoru’s length in your other hand. Drawing punched out moans from the boys. Chests heaving. Clipped breaths. Pitiful. 

“On your knees, Lightning.” You beckon Satoru, while teasing his counterpart. 

Satoru doesn’t hesitate for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to. Propped on his knees, he stares into the side of your face. Awaiting further instruction. 

“Kiss me,” you demand, circling your lips around Suguru’s sensitive tip for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss. 

Satoru’s eyes widen. Your words startle the breath out of him. 

The lights are dim but Suguru doesn’t miss the blossoming cherry red flush. Spreading along his toned shoulders.

Your wet lips dragging along his swollen cockhead pulls Suguru’s eyes away from his celestial best friend. 

“Mmmgh f..fuck baby,” Suguru chokes out at your slow, mean ministrations. 

“Don’t be shy, Lightening.” Your tongue tickles his lead pipe with every spoken word around his girth. 

Suguru’s eyes fall to your hand. Now working its way up Satoru’s length. His core involuntarily curls into your sudden touch. Gossamer thin whine tumbling out of his lips. Suguru catches the way Satoru digs his fingernails into his milky skin. 

And his cock twitches against your lips at the sight. 

“Kiss me,” You beckon Satoru again, dragging your tongue up Suguru’s length. 

“I—I…“ Satoru stammers. Hips stuttering against your fist. Static fills Suguru’s head. 

He’s never seen him this docile. This pliant. It’s a mind fuck. 

No, no. 

The way Satoru pulls his eyes up to meet his gaze in that moment is a mind fuck. 

Is he hallucinating?

It’s like Suguru is seeing Satoru for the first time. 

Instead of being side by side, he’s across the street. Catching a glimpse of a God. Walking amongst men. 

Satoru’s expression has earned permanence in his brain. Snowy halo of hair. Long, palatial lashes fanning the Aegean Sea in his eyes. A mosaic of lust, desire, a little shame. 

Seeking permission.

Seeking approval. 

He is otherworldly. 

Vulnerable and soft. On his knees. Needy. It makes Suguru want to ram his cock past those pouty, swollen lips. 

But..but that’s wrong. Right? 

They’re best friends. Fucking soulmates. They don’t..they don’t do that. 

But the way he’s pouting.

God. 

Glassy eyed and helplessly turned on. Rutting his hips into your hand. 

Fuck. 

“Fuck,” Suguru mutters. A surge of his arousal landing on your tongue. Eliciting a breathy giggle in response. 

Followed by an out of body experience for the next few minutes. 

Suguru’s hand wires into Satoru’s cloud soft locks. Gentle grasp between the slender webspaces. 

“So pretty.” He rasps through the nails in his throat. 

Satoru’s pupils blow out at the praise. All but purring into his touch. Suguru barely applies any force and Satoru crashes his lips onto yours with Suguru’s thick head in between. 

Filthy. 

Nasty dirty vulgar sounds fill the room. Suguru’s constant stream of precum dripping onto your tongue, Satoru’s tongue. Raining down on your puffy, full tits.

You two exploring each other’s lips. 

Satoru’s angry length, squelching against your hand. 

It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 

“Such a good boy.” 

Your dulcet voice is a tornado decimating Suguru’s brain. He has to blink a few times to realize that the praise wasn’t meant for him. 

It was directed at Satoru. 

Who is desperately — eagerly — throating Suguru’s dick. Nose flaring. Diamond tears rolling down his blushing cheeks. Unintelligible garbles dribbling out the corners of his mouth. 

“Sa—Satoru, mmgh, god shit, shit.” Suguru’s hips take a cruel pace down his Person’s throat. 

“Mmm, Satoru.” You murmur into his ear. Tasting your new discovery. 

“Look how much Thunder likes fucking that mouth of yours.” 

Satoru’s tears splash against Suguru’s sex. But he opens his throat anyway. Swallowing his rod. Filthy bulge in the column of his throat. 

“Ahh, god..baby..” Suguru huffs when your devilish little hands tug at a palm full of his hair. 

When did you get next to him?

Doesn’t matter. 

Yet another natural disaster destroys Suguru’s brain when you push your tongue back into his mouth. While he violates Satoru’s mouth. 

The wire in Suguru’s stomach coils. Lava surges through every vessel in his body. Groin welling with a deep, carnal pressure. Everything feels too fucking good.

“Fuck, oh god fuck. I’m I—g—“

“Cum for me, baby.” 

You kiss your hushed command into Suguru’s mouth. His hips come to a screeching halt. Both hands down in Satoru’s hair, grazing along his undercut. 

Suguru tilts his chin to the ceiling. Thick loose mane tickling his mid back. Vision completely dark. He has no idea if he’s still in Satoru’s mouth. Or where his cum is landing. All he knows is death by pleasure right now.

You press your moist lips into Suguru’s neck.  

“You’re so beautiful like this.” Sweet words reverberate against Suguru’s skin. 

His head slowly comes back to earth. And just as his eyes pull back open — a shudder and blinding light assaults his vision. Up close. 

“Woah, what the hell?” 

Suguru is met with a Polaroid camera. Printing evidence of his nirvana. His brows crawl together defensively.

“What do you—“

“Relax, thunder.” You coo with that smile that’s decadent, beautiful poison. 

You step over a dazed Satoru. Still on his knees. Lazily stroking up his neglected hard cock. 

Suguru’s eyes track you to his bed. You place the developing film on the nightstand. 

“These are for your eyes only.” 

“I don’t mind.” Satoru huffs. Rising to his feet. Deep within your trance. You could’ve asked him to cut off an arm and he’d offer you both. 

Satoru would follow you into Hell if you demanded it. 

Suguru would too. 

“Boys, come.” You curl your finger at them. And pairs of feet move. 

“Thunder, why don’t you put that tongue ring to good use. While I take care of pretty little Satoru.” 

His name on your lips snaps something buried in his soul. Satoru steps to the head of the bed. Leaning against the wall. Cock heavy with his seed. A string of arousal hanging low from his tip. 

You make a dramatic show to catch Satoru’s leaking string of cum before it wastes on Suguru’s sheets. 

“You’re fucking filthy, princess.” Satoru hisses. He can’t remember the last time he’s blinked the whole night. 

You smile around his bulbous tip, then pull him into your warm heat in one go. 

And fuck, Satoru can feel you sucking through to his throat. 

His whimpers sound so pathetic in his ears. But he is so lust-drunk he couldn’t care less. 

One look down and he sees his best friend whining underneath your precious cunt. As you circle your hips around Suguru’s metal-clad tongue. Taking your pleasure directly from his mouth. 

Suguru’s half hard sex pulsates against his perfectly toned abs. Satoru has to look away. His orgasm threatening to come too soon. 

“Mmmnggh, so good with your tongue, Thunder.” You gurgle around Satoru’s length. 

Arousal flavored saliva driveling down your chin. The sensation drives Satoru to piston his hips until his tip abuses the limit of your dainty throat. 

You shouldn’t have any space to breathe, much less talk. 

“Pl-please. Suguru. Name’s Suguru.” 

“Say his name baby.” Satoru’s order is low. Raptorial. Hips bucking wildly into your mouth. Heat crashing into his groin. 

He’s so close. He’s—

“S-Suguru.”

And Satoru dives off your cliff edge. Hearing his Person’s name tumble out of your mouth and around his cock snapped his self-control in half. 

Ropes off thick, warm heat spill out the side of your mouth. Staining your bunched up dress, the sheets and everything in between. 

“S-so close,” you huff, humping Suguru’s tongue more aggressively. 

A familiar camera shudder and solar bright light fans your outstretched neck. Capturing your cum-stained ascension. 

You flash Satoru a knowing smirk. Another beam of light aimed in his face before he tosses your camera off to the side. 

Satoru crashes his lips into yours. Eager to taste himself off your mouth. 

Your bodies move in perfect tandem. Satoru kisses your peak from your lips while Suguru coaxes your wet orgasm onto his tongue. Your high drenches Suguru and the sheets around him. 

The three of you piece yourselves together. Completely plaited within each other’s warm, moist limbs. Basking in the serotonin showers misting you three in post-coital bliss. 

No one remembers, but you wish each other sweet dreams before the fog settles. And the night re-claims you to sleep. 

                                     ——

Sunlight is downright offensive. 

Suguru forces his heavy lids open.

7: 43 AM

Fucking, hell. 

A freight train is currently doing laps in Suguru’s mind. He flickers around the room. Haphazard clothes. Strewn socks. Satoru in Suguru’s 06 hockey jersey. Long limbs nearly dangling off the other side of his bed. 

Suguru glances down, somehow dressed only in Satoru’s black sweats

There’s a tiny sliver of space between their sodden bodies. Where you must’ve slept. 

Right.

You. 

Heaven’s fallen angel. 

You used to be God’s favorite. No way you still are.

Not with how fucking sinful you looked in that red dress. 

Snapping polaroids.

Taking their souls for play. 

Then having the audacity to leave them on the nightstand when you were through.

Suguru met The Devil last night. 

And she was…exquisite. 

“Fuck, my head.” Satoru groans, rolling over to face his dark-haired soulmate.

Suguru watches his eyes flutter open. And something within him catches. 

How has he not noticed how beautiful this boy is before?

“Here,” A glass of ice water, still sweating from condensation is waiting on Suguru’s nightstand. He takes a long sip before passing the lifeblood to Satoru. 

Satoru briefly meets Suguru’s gaze. Before averting, pretty mulberry blush flooding his face. 

“Was last night…real?” Satoru asks after an extended sip. 

Suguru meets his question with silence. Preoccupied with picture proof. 

Three polaroids neatly arranged on the nightstand. 

The first one is of Suguru. Hair moused, framing his intoxicated gaze. Remnants of his orgasm oozing from the still shot. Lips puffy and abused. Cheeks flushed. Suguru can barely recognize the man in the photo. 

His eyes dance to the cursive label at the bottom:

Thunder 

Alias: “Suguru”

A wry chuckle escapes his lips. He passes his photo to Satoru. 

The next polaroid is of his Person. Post orgasm haze heavy in his eyes. He managed to get his 10,000-kilowatt smile perfectly in the selfie. Also flushed. Also completely debauched. The blue in his eyes reflected nearly translucent. 

He’s a fucking masterpiece, that boy. 

Suguru knows what to expect at the bottom of Satoru’s polaroid:

Lightening

Alias: “Satoru”

“Shit man, these are amazing.” Satoru murmurs, intently studying Suguru’s polaroid. Absentmindedly accepting his.

“They are.” Suguru agrees, unknowingly holding his breath while pulling your polaroid into view. 

And of course.

It’s blurry. 

The only thing in focus is your graceful, arched neck, specks of Satoru’s finish glistening on your skin. Merlot red dress, pulled far below your breasts. Only thing pictured is the apex of your cleavage. Leaving Suguru’s mind to spiral into lucid memory of the rest of your silhouette. 

“Who…was that?” Satoru muses. Eyes now on the ceiling. Undoubtedly having the exact same swarm of flashbacks flood his mind. 

Suguru rolls your Polaroid between his index and long finger. The bottom of the photo reading:

No Name

A lazy smile tugs on the corner of his lips.

You are something else. 

Supernatural, almost.

“She’s a girl with no name.” 

[charliemwrites]

Okay, okay, part 2 of the angst. A little fluff amongst the angst.

(No content warnings)

You let yourself cry only once. Tucked up in the back of the transport plane, just you and your duffel. If Nikolai notices, he politely ignores it.

After the 141, it takes you a long time to invest in your new SpecGru team. You do your job, of course. Work hard — harder than you ever have in your life. Use all the skills you learned… learned before. Seem to make a good impression.

Your new captain is gruffer than Price right off the bat, but he’s fair. Tells you what needs improvement, but is honest about what he’s impressed with.

The rest of the team is… fine.

Just fine, you tell yourself. Keep it professional; keep it distant.

Even when Keegan goes out of his way to bring you snacks and remind you to hydrate. Even when Nova helps you with a bad jam on your gun. Even when Nikto of all people sits next to you in the gym. Not touching, not even speaking. Just there.

They respect your distance. Respect your baggage. Don’t give you shit when you decline invitations to go out. You wait for your new captain to say it’s not working out. To tell you that you’re not a good fit, he’s concerned about your teamwork with the rest of the squad.

The ice only starts to thaw when you fuck up again. When you nearly die. You wake up to the entire squad in your hospital room; even Nikto is there, leaned up against the wall across from your bed.

Your captain gives you a couple harsh words for stupid sacrifices, but he chucks you under the chin when he’s done. Keegan presses a kiss to your forehead just as the pain meds are kicking in and you’re too loopy to do more than ask him if he even likes you.

The answer, apparently, is yes.

He likes you quite a bit. So much, in fact, that you start letting him into your room when he knocks. Tell him about the 141. Start joining him for training and seeking him out for tips on the sniper. You like him, dammit.

Then Nikto starts joining you two. Shocks both you and Keegan; he’s not close with anyone. If you’ve got a suitcase worth of baggage, Nikto has a bloody moving truck. You can count on two hands the number of words he’s said, with fingers left over.

Yet he’s become your new shadow. Reminds you of… a certain someone, in a lot of ways. Except Nikto pulls a knife on someone for making a gross comment about you. And starts teaching you how to throw knives and jumpstart just about everything. Seeks you out — constantly, it seems.

So now you’ve got Keegan and Nikto, flanking you almost constantly. And then you have Nova, teaching you hacking skills and makeshift bombs, her thigh pressed to yours. And your captain, patting you on the ass after a job well done.

You agree to go out with them for the first time. End up with Nova in your laps for an hour. Then find yourself in Keegan’s for another. Have Nikto’s hand on the small of your back on the way out of the bar, and your captain’s hand on your thigh during the drive back.

“Fuck you,” you nearly sob, bouncing on Keegan’s cock that night.

“That’s — fuck, baby, ngh — that’s the idea?”

You nip at his jaw and grind down, squeezing your eyes shut. His hands are firm but reverent on your hips, thumbs stroking old scars, guiding you just right when you start shaking.

“Fuck you for making me care,” you sniffle, squeezing down, delighted in the noise he makes. “Goddammit.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he coos in your ear. “It’s alright. I love you too.”

And fuck if that doesn’t make you cum right then.

As you’re panting in the afterglow, you feel a rough kiss against your neck. Freeze as you see a gloved hand covering Keegan’s eyes.

“Love,” Nikto whispers in your ear. Your eyes sting, a sob caught up in your throat.

“Okay,” you whimper. “O-okay.”

Three months later, Laswell calls your captain for a joint mission. With the 141.

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Masterlist

[luveline]

hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad

ty lovely 💌 fem

“Oh,” you say, “of course.” 

You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent. 

How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.

“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?” 

You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?” 

“I heard the engine turn over.”

“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it. 

“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”

James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.

“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.” 

“You don’t have to go?” 

“What?” 

“You have rugby today.” 

“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.” 

James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out. 

“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.

James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.” 

He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.” 

“So it’s definitely the battery?” 

“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your breath gets caught. 

“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned. 

“I… maybe I did. I think so.” 

“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?” 

“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.

James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.” 

“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.

“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face. 

His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car. 

James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends. 

He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert. 

“What are your plans tonight?” 

Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.” 

“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”

“What do you do with all your time?” 

“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.” 

You startle. “You and Sirius live together?” 

James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?” 

“You come in different cars.” 

“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.” 

James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome. 

That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much. 

To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…

Well, he couldn’t have. Right?

[lovelytsunoda]

god knows I’ve tried // yuki tsunoda

summary: stranded at her publishers office after the battery in her car dies, there’s only one person she wants to call for a jumpstart.

pairing: yuki tsunoda x lawson!reader

warnings: self-deprecating humor, y/n is very self critical, yuki is her night in shining armour, total lack of christmas spirit, anxiety.

author's note: this resonates so personally with me and i feel so fricking attached to this story and all the people in it. please treat it kindly :)

so go on judge me by my cover, and no I’ll never have another. baby I’ve been bad, but god knows I’ve tried to be good

it's too early for damn christmas lights, she huffed to herself as she left the office, juggling the volkswagen keys that dangled from her fingertips with the large cardboard box between her arms, staring at the lights and tinsel hung up on the light poles. cursing to herself and trying not to drop anything, she fumbled for the unlock button, ready to ditch the box in her trunk.

her volkswagen golf stood solitary and alone in the parking lot, no other cars for miles. if liam was here, he'd be asking where her pepper spray was, god forbid anything happen to his baby sister.

there was only a year between them, but sometimes she swore that liam acted as if there were five.

the cold dug into her skin as she hobbled through the parking lot, trying to keep her head on a swivel as she once again asked herself why she had parked so far away from any other car. she fumbled with the trunk button (which was unresponsive a lot more than it actually opened the trunk), unceremoniously dumping the box so hard that the small red car started to shake.

she slammed the trunk shut, frowning as she ran a fingertip over the small spot of rust that had begun to form where the silver letters proclaimed to the world what kind of car she drove met the painted trunk door.

she opened the car door, slipping into the driver's seat and staring at the overhead door lights, which had not illuminated as they were intended to when the door opens.

"motherfucker." she mumbled. "i'm gonna have to replace the latch, aren't i?" this was not new. she'd had multiple issues with the car, buying it from a dealership that advertised mostly on facebook.

never again, the next car she buys will be certified pre-owned from a volkswagen dealer, not a used car lot.

the latch would need replacing eventually: it had already locked up the door and prevented her from opening her car, even after smashing the unlock button on her keys five times. she rolled her eyes, closing the door and sliding the key into the ignition.

the key turned, but the car didn't start. growing increasingly panicked, she turned the key a few more times, the same ministrations that normally started up the ten year old car.

"fuck!" she howled, slamming her hands down on the steering wheel as the engine refused to turn over again. she reached for the headlight button, feeling her stomach drop to the floor when there was no response from the headlights.

the engine battery was dead.

she was stranded, alone, in a dark parking lot at night.

it didn't get more fucked than that.

she reached for her phone, the screen providing the only light source as she fumbled for the lock button, and making sure her finger hovered steadily over the panic alarm on her keys. just in case.

who was she going to call, she wondered, scrolling through her contacts. definitely not liam, she couldn't trouble him like that. remind him that she'd always need protecting. she could call her best friend, but the likelihood that margot would know what to do was slim. besides, she was probably out with her boyfriend if she wasn't at work.

her finger hovered over a name, and she debated long and hard if it was worth it, if she was really desperate enough to ask him for help. would he come? would he consider it strange that his best friend's baby sister was calling in the middle of the night because she was dumb enough to drain her car battery?

right now, it didn't look like she really had a choice. unless she wanted to call a tow truck and be out a couple hundred bucks.

"hello?"

"yuki, it's y/n. i need your help."

when the headlights of yuki's honda civic type r lit up the parking lot, she could have cried from relief. the dead battery also meant no heat, and she was chilled to the bone, teeth chattering together as she clutched her phone in one hand and her keys in the other.

"thank god you're here!" she blurted, scrambling out of the car as yuki pulled into the parking space on her passenger side. "i didn't know who else to call!"

ah, yes. yuki tusnoda. backlit by his headlights, he looked like a guardian angel. he'd been close with the lawsons since he came to england, being practically adopted when he moved in with liam at milton keynes, like some fucked up version of a college roommate scheme.

not to mention that he was funny, hot as hell, and she never knew if his cheerful, gentle ribbing meant he looked at her as more than a friend. every time he gifted her a casserole dish of something he had cooked, or invited her out when he and liam went somewhere, she couldn't help but think that maybe he liked her the way that she liked him.

in a way that was anything but just friendly.

"didn't you just get something fixed on your car?" yuki frowned popping his car hood open and digging around in his glove box for the jumper cables.

"i changed a headlight last week. the last major thing was the driveshaft, i couldn't fix that myself, had to take it in." she frowned, lifting up the hood of her own car, using her phone light to find the battery cover. "the car is a piece of shit, but at least it's reliable. and the driveshaft was covered by the dealership since it should have been on the safety certification and wasn't."

yuki frowned, untangling the cables before he dropped them to the pavement, peeling off his puffer jacket. "your lips are blue. take my jacket. i doubt liam would like it if let his little sister get hypothermia"

"pneumonia."

"same difference."

"not really." she laughed, pulling yuki's jacket over her own thin flannel trench coat. she hated wearing a thick winter coat when she drove, relying almost entirely on her car's heated seats to keep warm without suffocating.

"if i get sick because i sacrificed my jacket for you, i should hope that you'd be the one to take care of me. you know, since it was your own fault." yuki chuckled, hooking up the cables as y/n tried to keep warm

"fuck you. i could have stayed in the car."

"the car doesn't have heat either."

oh. yeah. she forgot about that one.

"well, i could have stayed in your fancy ass sports car." it didn't matter how she phrased it, she was just trying to butter him up. on a normal day, she made fun of him for driving a honda civic, calling it a 'mom-mobile'.

with the jumper cables fully connected, they both settled into the honda to wait it out. usually, the rule of thumb was fifteen minutes, but she wasn;t sure that she could stand to be in a car with yuki for that long without doing something reckless.

she slipped out of his jacket, moving to pass it to him before he gestured vaguely to the backseat. the heated seats were on, but she could still see the puffs of air leaving her body as she breathed heavily.

"thanks for coming. i didn't know who to call."

yuki turned to look at her, turning down the volume on the radio. it was a shame, too. she was quite enjoying 'teenage dirtbag'. "why didn't you call liam?"

"pride, i think. he's always been the favourite, the one that stuck with it, the one that made something of himself. i don't need to admit to him that i need help, that i don't know things. because i do, it just sometimes takes me a little longer to get it, or i give up too quickly."

yuki frowned. "liam worries about you, you know. he doesn't like seeing you upset. and he's always been proud of you, so have your parents."

she shivered, pulling her sleeves over her hands. "it's just always been more upfront with liam. they keep telling me that i give up on things too quickly. you know, i realized the other day that i don't really have any hobbies any more. outside of paint nights with the girls, i don't paint anymore. i don't do any sports. reading is really all i do any more."

"that doesn't define your worth, you know. you've got other things going on right now that are taking up your time." yuki encouraged, fiddling with the heating dial. "hey, speaking of which, what are you doing here so late at night?"

she groaned, tilting her head back. "god, this is embarrassing." she hid her head in her hands before turning back to yuki. "promise not to laugh too hard?"

"why would i laugh at you?"

"i was picking up advance copies of my first book." she turned and looked out the window, at the empty parking lot illuminated solely by yuki's headlights. "i've spent the better part of the last two years working on it, and i'm scared i'm going to fail at it like i failed at everything else."

she felt a warm hand overtop of hers. "that's incredible. that's such a major accomplishment, y/n. why are you doubting yourself? you've made it this far."

she smiled, turning to face him. "yeah, but how many people want to read about a detective in small-town new zealand who lives in a haunted house?"

yuki raised an eyebrow. "you already have my interest."

and what great author could resist going on and on about their latest endeavor?

"okay, so it's about this detective in new zealand, she's just moved to this small town as part of a so-called promotion, but really she was desperate and only took the job because she wanted out of the city, a nice change of scenery and whatever. but after she moves in, she finds out the house is haunted and the ghosts actually end up helping her solve her first big case."

she left out the part about how there were three ghosts: one was a dead rockstar, one was a nineteen-thirties midwife and the other was a dead nun. the witty banter between the group of them was a joy to write.

"she also has a crush on this guy who lives across the street. he's an autobody mechanic, with a collection of classic cars."

who totally wasn't inspired by yuki and his gorgeous brown eyes or luscious black hair. well, her one argument was that book guy was about a foot taller than yuki was.

"hell yeah, i'd read that." yuki laughed. "or i'd watch the movie, depending on how long the book was."

y/n laughed, and it felt good. it felt like it had bene forever since she laughed. "it's a cozy mystery series, so it's supposed to make you laugh, be predictable. i took notes from agatha christie, the best of the best. i just hope that the general consumer market also sees it that way."

"i'm sure you'll do fine. as long as it's not like, five hundred pages long, i can't see why anybody wouldn't want to read it."

catching y/n's eye, yuki snickered. "it's not that long, is it?"

"no, it's just under three hundred. they made me cut the sex scenes out."

she watched yuki's eyes go wide, before she burst out laughing as well.

"i'm kidding!" she giggled. "i'm kidding, there aren't any sex scenes in cozy mysteries."

despite how warm the car was, a shiver went down yukis spine at the thought that the innocent, angelic young woman sitting next him, separated only only by the center console, had written numerous sex scenes.

“would you read it? now that you know how many pages it has?”

“yes.” yuki insisted. “of course I would. Liam’s shown me some of your novellas. you are such a good writer. a real talent.”

she yawned, leaning back against the leather seat with a yawn and a shake of her head. “if this book crashes and burns, I’ll remind you you said that. hey, would you be willing to give me a starred review to print on the back cover?”

yuki hummed for a minute, looking up at the sunroof and then back at the girl sitting next to him. “hmm, great mystery, lovely author, not enough sex and could use more descriptions of food.” he joked, playfully gripping her shoulder.

“yeah, yeah. you think you’re so funny.” she laughed, pushing his arm off her shoulder. “but I’m glad that you’re here. you make much better company than my brother does.”

yukis hand dropped to her thigh, thumb gently rubbing along her jeans. “always. any time you need me, you know I’m a phone call away.”

yeah, bust she wished he was closer than even that. and if she kept staring into his dark ocean eyes, she feared she’d do something she’d regret. something impulsive and reckless and foolish but god damn would it have felt fucking good.

“y/n, you good? you’re kind of staring into space there.” yuki frowned, waving a nimble hand in front of her face, trying to capture her attention.

she chuckled. “not space, just the dashboard lights.”

“isn’t that a meat loaf song?”

she laughed, the sound coming from so deep in her chest as she turned to look at yuki. really, it shouldn’t have been that funny. all she knew was that she really, really wanted to kiss him.

she didn’t wait, lunging across the center console, hands shaking nervously as she rested them on either side of his face, pressing her chapped lips to his.

she had to hold herself back from moaning as yuki kissed her back, his warm hand caressing her sides under her open trench coat.

his touch was soft, safe, and comforting. but it was also electric, and left her wanting more when he finally pulled away for air.

“your car is probably charged”. he said nervously, blushing pink as he wiped away the saliva from his mouth. “I’d hate to kiss and run, but you probably want to get home.”

she rested her forehead against his, laughing softly as he rubbed his thumb over her wrist. “at least take me out to dinner before you kiss me and leave me hanging.”

“it’s a little late for dinner, but how does a late night caramel sundae sound?” he suggested weakly, shrugging his shoulders. mcdonalds was hardly first date material, but he knew he didn’t want this night to end, didn’t want to risk losing this magical moment.

“you drive and I’ll follow?”

“sounds good.” yuki grinned, kissing her again. “but just let me kiss you for a few more minutes to make sure that battery is well and truly charged.”

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @cartierre @sidcrosbyspuck @userlando @httpiastri @love4lando @oconso @thatsdemko @monzabee

[trashogram]

DP with Lucifer and his clones?

Kinktober Day 9 — Double Penetration

Warnings: F!Reader, Rough sex, anal, overstimulation, unrealistic sexual experience (probably)

You’d decided that being married to the Devil was to live deliciously.

You had never imagined your life turning out this way, but despite the lifetime of rigorous hardship and shaming to scrub the sin out of you, nothing bad had come of you being sacrificed to the fabled Lucifer so far. And you were beginning to believe that it would stay that way.

For Lucifer was not the monstrous figure your mother had warned you, harried and brusque as she toiled with your many siblings. Your father had threatened all of you with tales of Hellfire and the gnarled claws and leathery wings of Mephistopheles so many times — too many to count.

Yet you had seen him with your own eyes, heard his melodious voice with your own ears, and felt the press of his cold lips upon you with heated flesh.

And he had been nothing but kind. If anything, he succumbed to your will when you asked it of him. Whatever pleased you seemed to please him just as well. Whether you were direct or you were grasping for words, he would provide with soft eyes and hands and heart.

“I want…” The breath shuddered from your lips. “I want to know if you would try this with me.”

He had you splayed out on the finest sheets, in your shared bed that never stopped feeling like a cloud. His hand was cupped over your sex, drenched by his earlier affections, applying pressure every so often that made you throb and mewl.

His yellow gaze was satiny, melting butter. “I’ll give you whatever you want. Just name it.”

How you could still be so shy that you needed to whisper your request in Lucifer’s ear, after everything he had shared with you (and everything you had done with him) was a mystery to yourself. But Lucifer’s stare turned wry as his lips turned up and he nuzzled your face with his strange one.

“Naughty girl.”

His wickedness was catching. You giggled and hid your face instead of reacting with shock or horror. Suddenly there was a warm body on your other side, as a perfect copy of the Devil shuffled to lay directly behind you.

The original Lucifer cupped your face in his hands and brought you forward for a kiss as the second Lucifer reached around to grope your breasts. His hands caressed down your flake, squeezing the curve of your hip and palming the globe of your ass.

You’d already been without your clothes, ready to be “defiled” again. Lucifer pressed his hard cock to your sopping cunt from the front as his copy followed from behind until they were seesawing between your thighs to spread your slick. It was a challenge not to squeeze your legs shut until one of them wrenched your leg open and kept it aloft.

Your companions moaned in tandem, their beautiful dual vocals broken by your squeaks as Lucifer One breached your folds. He sank into you with ease, thrusting lightly, unable to help himself. Lucifer Two continued to rub between your asscheeks, massaging where you were still virginal.

“I’m ready. I’m ready!” You mumbled, sounding feverish and dazed even to yourself.

Mercy.

Your husband was the Devil yet he delivered you mercy with a kiss to the back of your head. He’s not small, so the stretch and the burn can’t go unnoticed. It’s also alien, unlike anything you’ve felt before and so intense. Both Lucifers bade you to relax with more languorous touches and honey-sweet words of praise.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good for me.”

“I love you.”

And then you’re full.

Lucifer One moves again, humping into you and distracting you from the pain. He kisses and nuzzles, suckles at your nipples and rubs circles into your clit. It jumpstarts those sparks of pleasure, all the more appreciated as Lucifer’s copy pulls back by an inch. Your nails dig into anything they can, be it the sheets or Lucifer’s alabaster flesh. And he lets you.

Another inch and another. Then he’s pushing back in as you lose yourself to fork-tongued kisses. It’s a balm to your soul, a relief for the ache, and those sparks turn into a little flame. Lucifer fucks your sloppy cunt as his counterpart thrusts into your ass at a controlled pace, and you’re so full. So, so full.

The pressure exceeds everything else. Your fingertips tingle and your toes curl as you cry out. Light and shadow blur together in your delirium and you the flame burns brighter, hotter, concentrated at your core and the basin of your hips. You’re so full that little else but your mouth can move.

You cry for more. You beg and you sob until the tightrope inside of you snaps and you’re adrift for a fleeting moment. And then Lucifer and his double drag you back down to Hell for more.

[arminzblackbimbo]

my love is like...wo

blackfem!reader x obsessive satoru gojo

tw: mdni, obsessive behavior, whiny gojo, missionary, nipple play, ribbon as rope, tied up, lots of talking, oral (fem r.), possessive behavior, rough sex, gojo cums a lot, clingy, choking, biting, eating cum, lots of pet names, period mentioned briefly, and bad spelling !!!

gojo who needs you 24-7.

he can't help it, he tried to warn you when he first starting catching feelings for you, that he can be very obsessive and clingy. you just thought maybe he'll text you more than average, but no he wants you by his side all day. he can't be without you.

he follows you to the toilet leaving you no space to even think. clinging to you in the shower helping you wash your body. helps you shave and wax, even exfoliate just so he is close to you. even when your on your period he doesn't mind, he even helps you shower then under his watchful eyes. rubbing your stomach to relive your cramps and putting his hot body on top of you

he knows he has to let you out the house sometimes but if it was up to him you would never leave. you would stay by his side all day. he shouldn't have let you leave. what if you don't come back ? what if you just leave him for his possessive ways ? the "what ifs ?" clouding his mind making his stomach feel queasy.

so invasive of your privacy that when he doesn't know where you at, even with your location on his phone, he needs more reassurance. "where are you sweetheart ?" he sighs on the phone with you. he's worried about you. so much anxiety in his stomach since he let you out his sight.

"gojo i'm at the store remember ?, i'm getting some bread for tonight" you wanted to make deli subs. of course with gojos help but you know his time apart from you is allowing him to have so much stress. you can only move so fast.

"please hurry up and get home, i miss you" he has to occupy himself until you get home. cleaning up and pacing back and forth. taking his time in watching your little bubble on his phone, while you travel. he has even paid for the monthly trial so that he knows where you are. if your walking, in a car, and even how fast you're going.

౨ৎ

he nearly jumpstarts when he hears your keys open the door. "(୨୧) what took you so long ? i was so worried" he feels his breath pick up just looking at you. the butterflies in his stomach making him feel nauseous every time he sees you. you just roll your eyes giggling when your barely through the door and gojo's already kissing your face with all that he has. giving you sloppy pecks "i've missed you so much" you can see his hands shaking when they make contact with you.

you close the door behind you. turning to look into those icy blue eyes "i was only gone for 30 minutes" you say when you feel those long arms wrap around you, melting into his hug loving how attach he is to you. how he can't seem to function without you.

he has no shirt on walking around with only sweatpants. enticing you to see his hard stomach and his bulge in his pants. "felt like forever" he mumbles into your skin. face smooshed into your neck. "i'm going with you next time" he squeezes you tightly pulling you close to him. inhaling the smell from you.

"aww baby, i missed you too" you pet those wild strands of white when you set those bags down feeling his strong arms lift you up, pulling those legs around his lengthy waist. you start rubbing his naked back to calm his nerves. letting him guide you to the couch as you see those groceries sit by the door

"lay down let me just take care of you. just want you next to me" he lies you down. hurrying working you out of your clothes as you try and calm him down. his neediness making him anxious for your closeness, your body near his makes his blood boil

it makes you laugh at him but you grab his hands slowing him down "wait hold on, gojo you don't want subs ?" your trying to keep your shirt down as you giggle at his hands getting you naked.

he shakes his head " no, no i need you right now" he's desperate he wants you to be skin to skin with him. snatching your shirt off of you, and reaching for your pants and adding to the pile. reaching for your bra and throwing it across the living room.

he spreads himself on top of you laying his body between your legs, while you work your hands through his hair. letting him soak in the contact. hearing his groans of relaxation as the stress leaves his body. he doesn't know how he can breathe without you. he loves his chest on yours. feeling your heartbeat beat with his, letting the heat radiate of each other.

settling his face lower so that he can place soft kisses along the middle of your chest . feeling your heartbeat under his lips. he goes to cup your chest feeling the weight in his hands gripping his hands lightly when you groan placing the sweet pecks along the skin "mmh i needed you so bad i missed you" softly licking the skin. "so much, so much"

he suddenly gets up he get the idea that he has to keep you here, he doesn't like the separation. he needs you closer. he has to tie you up he doesn't want you leave him ever he will break if you do. he goes to the bedroom leaving you by yourself on the couch "gojo what are you doing baby ?" you call out to him. he comes back shuffling working off his pants and he has pink ribbon in his hands. the same ribbon you use for your hair in the mornings

"sorry baby i had to go get something" he lays back on top of you. adjusting your legs so that he has you in the perfect position. he works those panties off you breathing hard when he sees your juices string free. he proceeds to tie you up in a way that leaves your legs spread out for him ribbon hooking around the back of your neck keeping your thighs wide open for him. you can see behind his eyes there is determination and obsession he has for you, you let him get out his fixation.

seeing you spread out for him looking so succulent his eyes sparkle, "perfect, you look so good baby" kissing your legs that's suspended. "now you can't leave me" he whispers kissing closer on your thighs. you giggle at his whispers like you can't hear him. he works his mouth closer to your mound. hungrily eying you as his mouth waters just to get a taste of you. particularly panting when he sees the flesh, the way your pussy is puffed out between your legs. he is whining to put his tongue on you. moving his head to lay between your legs. he marvels at you "so pretty, the prettiest"

he lets his mouth salivate and goes to swipe his tongue, letting the taste hit his tastebuds. his mouth slowly working while he licks at you. placing his arms under your back to support you. making those smacking sounds while you start to softy moan above him. "mm gojo feels so good" your shaky hands grip his white hair feeling the way his tongue is toying with you. making your back arch into his arms.

he collects all the juices that start to leak out of you, twirling his tongue around you to quench his thirst. making his eyes roll back into his skull while he swallows all that he can. he can feel his brain thumping making it hard for him to focus on the task that his tongue is doing. he suctions his lips using the tip of his tongue to lap at you. causing your legs to start to twitch, your clit throbbing in his mouth when he starts to suck harder.

your moans getting louder and your body starting to quiver. he starts to roll his hips into the bed grinding against the sheets feeling the arousal course through his veins. he gets more euphoria from pleasuring you then anything else. to hear your moan and taste you on his tongue, it makes him start to groan out.

you can feel the vibrations against your clit under his tongue. your voice shaking as you breathe out "goj-gojo". the words making him use his sholders to push your tied up legs even farther back as he starts to try and eat you whole, the words making him hungry. he is trying to use his tongue to hypnotize you, to keep you by his side so you'll never leave.

the feeling has you overflowing with emotions. has your legs trying to spring free with each and every move of his tongue. he is an expert with the motions, he know how to rotate and suck his mouth to make you shake and shiver. his hands under you back squeezing you tighter trying to keep you still so he can continue to swallow more of your cream "g-gojo feels too good" your toes starting to curl when he doesn't even slow down, he is too needy to not have your liquid hitting his taste buds.

his whines from grinding into the bed are vibrating into your folds causing more pleasure. he loves the taste if he could keep you in bed all day and be between your thighs he would. he wouldn't let you go until his jaw get locked, but you won't let him he's tried. maybe if he tied you up more maybe he could have you to himself all day. he can feel you start to shake rapidly getting ready to taste your cum he starts suck your clit and twirling his tongue faster

your vision gets blurry and your body tenses completely when you gush into his mouth. he is quick to swallow it all, drinking up more when you keep supplying him more. your eyes rolling back when he keeps moving his tongue to overstimulate you "ugh b-b-baby that's enough" you try and push his head away but he is wrapped tightly around you.

he is whining loudly when his mouth stills against you. you words knocking him out of his trance you put him in, almost forgetting about the boner in his pants so worried about eating your pussy till he can't anymore. he gradually licks you clean gulping down the orgasm that coats you and plants a soft kiss on those fat lips and slowly pulls away watching you pant out and chest heave

his lower face completely soaked when he drags off his boxers, feeling the strain in his length. whimpering when it smacks against his stomach and makes him tremble and moan. leaving him naked and bare when he comes closer to admiring you laid out and glistening for him. your pretty face watching him only makes him harder, he has to look away. looking at where his mouth only lied moments ago.

his guides his width to come inbetween those swollen pussy lips running along your juices, coating himself with the cream that you have created so he can enter you easier. his whining already taking up the room. he can't contain the sounds as they bounce of the walls. he can feel the muscles in his thighs start to tense and his breathing starting to quicken.

your both sensitive for different reasons, your sensitive from the assault of his tongue. and he is sensitive from his contrast grinds into the bed. he hits your swollen clit with his enlarged tip causing both of you make those sounds that bounce off each other.

"imma cum baby" he shakes out. he always cums like this, not even inside you yet and already his stomach is clenching up. he can't contain himself around you. you feel the ropes hit your stomach and coat your skin with the hot cream, as soon as the words leave his mouth. his high pitched moans making you hold his face to relax him holding his trembling jaw that makes his lips pucker

pecking his lips as his eyes flutter close tasting your juices. letting him calm down from the high he has fallen into. his width becoming harder now that he is already sensitive. "mm baby let it out" you say as you continue touching him, petting his hair to make him less stimulated your touch only makes him feel the effects more

his eyes are just the white part while he tries and come back to reality. "i need you, i n-need you" he starts to babble, words being hard to form with his mouth, shuddering as he positions himself against you. slowly slotting his messy length into you, throwing his head back as he does. he is so thick you grab him to lay on top of you so you have something to grip too.

you can feel your body shiver the ribbon keeping your legs from moving as he steadily starts to try and pierce you deeper. the feelings so intense already, "gojo please" your face squished into his neck when you feel him in the back of your walls. he stuffs the rest of length into you impatient to start fucking you. that spot near you cervix being brushed making your eyes rolls back

he is breathing hard feeling the burn in his thighs happen again. "shitt im cummin again" his mouth wide open "im so sorry sweetheart, your t-too tight" he whines when he pushes his head into your neck. holding strongly under your back when his tip jerks inside you having the stream of the white liquid puddle in your cushioned walls

he circles his arms tighter around you making your waist come closer to his, breathing hard when his legs stop shaking from the burn. you kiss along the side of his face while his moans quiet down gradually "you ok gojo ?" he doesn't answer with words only nodding with slight whimpering and starting to slowly grind into you making the space behind your belly button start to tingle. the way your legs are tied back allows him to reach too deep into you. the tip of him catching on your cervix making you clench up tightly causing gojo to suck his lips onto your neck, suckling on the skin.

his moans so loud as he humps into you, his voice high in pitch while his teeth catch on the bruised skin of your neck. he pulls his hips away to push into you roughly. your body pushed against his when his hips slam into yours again. he is starting a brutal pace that has your legs already shaking. his head lifts from your neck when goes to kiss your lips, moaning louder than you when your tongue starts to twist together. you messily kissing him makes him roll his hips stronger, clit catching on his pelvis. your nails coming to scratch on his back when he starts to make your body tense up again. lips swollen when he pulls away biting your lip, letting it pop out his mouth

he pounds into you harder feeling the pain you supply him from making him draw blood on his back. the pain mixed with pleasure has him short circuiting "don't ever leave me, i love you. i love so much" his deep strokes that make you want to wrap your legs around him but because your so spread out the feeling is almost too ínstense. rolling his hips to hit the back of your walls making you cry out, making your legs shake in those pretty ribbons again.

"ahh i w-won't i swear" you whimper out feeling like he is trying to overwhelm you when he starts stabbing into your womb, drilling into you with a new possession. not liking how you not saying you love him. hips moving with anger the emotion making him be harsh with you

"i said i love you, you don't love me anymore ?" it's like his madness is express through his rough strokes into you, that feeling has you shivering. you can't form any words making his blood boil even more, he moves his hands to hold you securely onto your legs that shake. "hmm (୨୧) i said i love you" he moves deeper. wanting on you to confess your love for him

"n-n-no i love you so much" you know how he can get, how he can overthink and make himself a little unpredictable over you. you have to reassure him let him know that he is the only person you want, the only person who you love like you love him

"i should keep you tied up so you never leave. keep you here for me" he is being so rough. letting his mouth flow all his thoughts that have been brewing in his mind. though he is pounding into you his voice pouts out contricting himself

your stomach cramps when he hits a certain spot in you making you put your hand on his abdomen trying to stop his harsh movements. your nails digging into his hard stomach. "gojo baby slow down" your voice wavering as he plows into you. "too rough" your feeling that warm sensation in your stomach again it's creeping up on you

he trying to stop him pushing your hand out of the way. "don't make me tie your hands sweetheart, trying to take this good pussy from me" he goes to grab at your neck wrapping his fingers around the column of your throat and squeezing to bring you closer to his face. cutting off your airflow "you don't understand what you do to me. you make me act crazy" he can feel you tighten your tummy at his words while he is pecking those swollen lips. "i just love you too much, i'm sorry for being so rough sweetheart" he pants out words coming out breathy due to his constant movements

he start to act animalistic biting your delicate skin of your shoulder licking to your collarbone where he sucks and bites you also. holding your neck tighter as hips move wilder. your so close you can feel the slow build up, the tension in your body bubbling in you "but this is my pussy, mmm all mine" he is biting his lip, fighting the need to cum in you for the umpteenth time "i love this pussy, all just for me" he is groaning when he grabs your hips letting you collect your breathing to continue those strokes leaving you shuddering "mine-mine your mine" he can't seem to say any other words your juices leaving him in a hypnotic like state.

the ribbon digging into the back your neck when your legs start the flair. trying to set themselves free. your back arching in as you continue to wiggle around. the constant pressure near your cervix has you getting louder. "go-go im gonna cum baby"

he can feel your plush walls swallowing him harder. your cream coating in such a thick paste when he looks at where you connected with him running his hands past your hips to touch where your so wet and soft. you skin feeling like velvet when his fingertips connect with your skin.

"so pretty, you're so pretty for me" when his fingers come to rub soft circles on your clit you can't even warn him about how you feel the lightning in your stomach and that tingling in your walls. the way your juices fly out out his stomach seeing your mouth gaped and your eyes crossed white has him almost at the finish line

his hips still rolling into you and his fingers still circling your slick flesh dragging you through your orgasm making you feel it 10x harder. "oh m-m b-baby " he is speaking gibberish can't seem to form the right words.

his voice squeaking when you feel him jerk on top of you. his high pitch whimpers making you drag your nails harder in his back because your body is still shaking. your still feeling the strain in your walls. you barely snap out of it when he softly kisses your lips. "i'm sorry baby i got carried away, just missed you so much"

your too tired to say anything back as he pulls out of you cautiously watching his cum drip out of you. "so sorry but its so pretty" he whispers to himself lowering his face to be parallel with your swollen folds. moving so that he can give you a long lick. you reach to grip his white hair.

he can taste all his cream when he puts his tongue in your tender hole. "and you still taste so good" he stops when he hears your tired whines. moving his lips to your tied legs working those ribbons off of you. kissing where the strained marks lay. your legs finally free when they wrap around him he still apologizing when he carries you to the bedroom. "you forgive me ?"

[lunar-years]

I think it’s *ahem* interesting that the same portion of the fandom that understands how Ted’s poor mental health and under-addressed trauma negatively impact his life and worsen his decision making also tend to treat Dottie Lasso like she’s the devil incarnate who’s single-handedly destroyed her son and his wellbeing. There’s this group of fans who both acknowledge Ted’s mental health journey as an imperative part of his arc and journey (which it is!) and excuse a lot of his behavior, particularly when it comes to the ways in which his mental health at its worst inarguably lessens his ability to be a present and effective parent to his son. They actively encourage him NOT to return home to son because “he finally has the chance to prioritize himself and needs to take it” or whatever, then turn around and say Dottie’s an irredeemably horrible evil witch who spends her time manipulating Ted and toying with his feelings. Ignoring completely that she’s also a women with a heck of a lot of under addressed trauma who’s gone without the resources to help herself and presumably also carries the baggage of growing up under a “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” mentality. Which is not to say I don’t think a lot of Dottie does is net bad/harmful! It totally is! And Ted is 100% in the right for confronting her and calling her out for the ways in which her inability to discuss what happened to their family has longterm fucked with his head. I just also think Dottie is also in the right for calling out Ted and the net negative effect his absence is having on Henry.

The thing about that scene is that they are both simultaneously wrong and right! But what makes it an effective conversation is that hell, at least now they’re talking about it! And airing out their baggage (hopefully) jumpstarts a positive change for both of them to do better for one another and their wider family. Because yes, I do think the conversation with Dottie contributed to Ted’s decision to return home…but unlike others, I think that is a good thing! The end of Ted’s story on the show is that he’s gotten the help Dottie never did (either because she didn’t know those resources were available to her, or the stigma around mental health dissuaded her, or whatever) and he’s all the better for it! By showing up in London, I do think there’s evidence that Dottie is also trying. Like sure, yes, she’s often misguided and faulty in her efforts. But she and Ted are much more similar than they are different. Both do a ton of masking to hid their own problems. Both are two imperfect people who made decisions they *thought* were right for their children only to later realize they’d fallen short as parents. And I think by the end of Mom City it’s safe to say that both are people who want to recognize their failings as parents and rectify what they can.

So yeah Dottie Lasso they could never make me hate you. Or whatever.

[nethhiri]

Siren Charms: Chapter 8

Zoro x Siren!Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence and blood

Hunger

The Straw Hats were a lot more welcoming than you expected them to be, more welcoming than you deserved from them. The only one who maintained a distance was Zoro. It was plain to see he still didn't trust you. He hesitated about giving your sword back, eyeing it with some curiosity, as he did so. He seemed to realize you didn't need a sword to hurt anyone. Your body was the weapon. 

All the human contact was a bit overwhelming for you, more so since you were so hungry. You often set yourself apart, sitting on the figurehead or the roof of the crow's nest. You were a nocturnal creature, so it was easy for you to climb into one of the trees on the ship and fall asleep on a limb during the daytime hours. A few times you might have been so deeply asleep and weak in general that you fell out of the tree. You didn't even wake up one of those times and it was a miracle you didn't fall into Zoro's lap since he often slept in the shade of the trees.

You found yourself in the kitchen, quite shamefully. Sanji greeted you with his normal enthusiasm and astutely noticed your demeanor. "What's wrong, mademoiselle?" 

"Remember the other day, when you yelled at Luffy for stealing food?"

"I do."

"It... was me." Your craving was so intense you broke the lock on the fridge and ate a few steaks raw from the fridge. "I'm sorry." You felt bad that Luffy got whopped on the head for your thievery. 

Sanji lamented, "Am I not feeding you well enough? Is my cooking subpar?!" He dramatically put his head on the counter. "I apologize for starving you so!" He was impressed that you basically ripped the fridge door off the hinges trying to get in. Nothing Franky couldn't fix. 

"No, no. That's not it. Your cooking is great." You didn't know how to explain. "I need...more. More than food." You actually didn't need to eat food at all, but you could still enjoy the flavors. "I need blood...from people." 

"Oh like for your devil fruit?" Sanji nodded. "Don't you worry about it. I got you covered." 

You didn't correct him. They seemed to be under the impression you had some kind of vampiristic devil fruit power. There wasn't a reason to correct them in your eyes. They could create their own justifications in their head for why you were this way. No one had outright asked you, so it didn't matter that much anyway.

That evening you during dinner, one of the only times you were with everyone together, Sanji delivered a cup of viscous red liquid. You grabbed his wrist as he pulled it back from setting the cup down. There were bandages around his hand. In a flash, you tore the bandages with a nail to reveal a thin red line. "You didn't have to do that." You pressed the flat of your tongue against his palm and let his hand go. "There." The cut on his hand was a healed pink line. 

Chopper was fascinated. "How did you do that?!" He made a mental note to examine the properties of your saliva later.

"Just can." You shrugged. While Sanji was saying something about never washing that hand again, you tried exercising self-control in drinking the blood he provided for you. That failed almost immediately when you chugged it and then stuck your tongue as far down the sides as you could to lick the sides clean. 

Luffy was ecstatic that Nami and Usopp immediately relinquished their plates out of queasiness. 

"Maybe let's not have blood at the table," Nami said, almost apologetically. 

You shrank, feeling like you were in trouble. "Sorry." You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand and excused yourself. 

It was difficult assimilating. You had odd habits and odder tastes. At least now you had some human blood in you. You could already feel a pump from the energy. All you needed was a jumpstart. With that little bit you could grow your wings and locate other food sources. You would have been able to sooner had Luffy not banned you from feeding on the crew. You sat atop the crow's nest, eyes scanning the horizon. The wind tossed the scent of humans close by at your nose. 

You waited until everyone had gone to bed, pulling your mask over your face. Franky had taken it while you were hurt and inspected it, fascinated by the foreign technology. It was an oxygen concentrator. Helpful for when you were at high altitude or deep sea, where the element was somewhat scarce. It also helped give you a performance boost in normal circumstances. 

It felt so good and so freeing after a week of being human-bound for your wings to sprout from your back, erupting from your skin in a black flourish. As soon as the feathers settled into position, you launched yourself to the sky, a few flaps of your wings sending you gliding under the stars. The promise of a good meal had you rocketing towards the smell of humans. For you, a distance of a few miles was well within your hunting range. Your internal compass was impeccable and there was no worry in your mind that you wouldn't find your way back. Plus your green snack had such a hold over you, that you felt like his scent could bring you back from twice as far. In fact, the entire time you fed, you pretended it was him you were draining, for the brief feeling of satisfaction. 

Without a sound, several hours later, your feet touched the deck. A pair of gray eyes watched you, narrowing, wondering where you had gone. 

[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins | Chapter: Six

Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Six: It’s Awful, Do It Again.

The daylight drapes across the horizon like a turned curtain, folding across the contours of your eyelids in a sweet, murmured hello. As you lay there, hunched over your desk, the sounds of cackling birds echo through your idle body, nipping at the well-crafted frame of your dreams until it all fades away… subsequently plunging you into reality.

Suddenly, you jolt up. The familiar summer breeze hits your bare arms as you look at your desk, taking in the sight of the vials loosely clutched in your palms. Typical, you think in disgruntlement, pushing your sooty arms against the bench. Sleeping on the job…

You don’t register the existing company that lingers in the corners of your vision; a blur of different colours whizz around in the background as quiet as they can be – which, if Luffy and Usopp are ever involved, that’s just them talking in their outside voices. That is, until your brain jumpstarts itself to come around.

Zoro, seated about six seats away from you, is the first to notice your awakening. He glances at you, a faint trace of annoyance evident in his gaze as if your sleep disrupted the natural order of things. With his arms crossed, he grumbles in his usual gruff tone, “Finally decided to join the land of living?”

You stretch lazily, letting out a low, exaggerated yawn. "Well, well, good morning, Sunshine. Did someone forget to leave their attitude back at their ship?"

He snorts, unimpressed. "You wish I cared that much."

"You're right; I must’ve confused you with someone who has a personality," you say, genuinely yawning this time. "My bad."

"Save your witty remarks for someone who has the time," he mutters.

"Oh, Zoro, I'll treasure your indifference forever," you gasp, mockingly.

He shoots you a deadpan look. "You're exhausting."

You eye him up and down, displeasure colouring your face. “Trust me, it’s intentional.”

Pushing yourself away from your wooden stool, your back bluntly pulses as a reminder of last night’s gruelling work. You give yourself a long-deserved twist and stretch, feeling sporadic parts of your body crack in misery as you take in the chaos that’s unfolding in your studio.

With your lips parted open, you gape at Luffy who’s spinning one of your swords like a frisbee, narrowly missing a blunt forced chop to Usopp’s nose. Usopp yelps out loud before his terror transmutes into rage, indeed a deadly turn of events, as he immediately wrestles Luffy to the ground.

“What did I wake up to?” You laugh.

“Raya, you’re awake!” Chopper exclaims, firmly holding a tiny dagger he’s found himself somewhere. Deep down, you know that what he’s so lovingly caressing in his hand isn’t an awesome miniature dagger, but actually a mere old box cutter– but, come on, he doesn’t need to know that.

Everyone turns to your direction, their eyes lighting up when they see you awake and blinking. It seems like they were trying their best to let you sleep, aware that you probably had a long night of purifying disturbed metal.

“Oh no…Did they wake you up?” Nami’s furious eyes frantically divert from you to the two wrestling boys. “I told them to be quiet, for fuck’s sake.”

“Nah, let them have fun,” you smile, placing a comforting hand on Nami’s shoulder. “It’s not every day you find an underground workshop ran by runaway swordsmiths.”

Gramps Suki, who enters at his usual hour with a cup of tea, raises an eyebrow at the commotion. An approving smile twitches on his mouth as his eyes meet the familiar band of pirates. “Well, good morning…What brings you all here?”

“We stick to our promises, Hitetsu-san,” Brook says, coolly lounging across a worktable as his skeletal fingers strum melodies across his guitar. “We’re here to make amends for Zoro’s cruel mess…

"Ohhh, the marimooo,

From what we knoooww,

With a demonic smileeee,

Attacks in his three sword styleee~”

The swordsman's brow furrows in a mix of irritation and mild disbelief at the timing of the skeletal musician's impromptu performance. Brook, with his bony fingers strumming the guitar, continues to belt out his tune with an energy that seemed to rattle the very bones that composed him.

As the rhythmic melody fills the air, Zoro's expression remains stoic, but there was an undeniable edge to his demeanour. He shot a piercing look in Brook's direction, one that carried a silent message of, “Are you serious right now?"

“We were?” Luffy frowns in response to Brook, scratching his head. “I just came to talk to Swords and Gramps…”

“Do you ever listen to what I say?” Nami barks, snarling against Luffy’s neck.

“No - seriously, Zoro. Why did you do this?” Franky frowns, admiring the work that limply hangs in his robotic palms.

“I told you - she started it first.” Zoro bursts out with a scowl, unable to brush off his pestering crewmates any further. It's like they were all competing in the 'Blame Zoro for Everything' championship, and he was determined to win... or lose, depending on how you looked at it.

“Just swallow your humongous pride and help us clean, moss-head,” Sanji loudly retorts. “Besides…:

With a hopeful drag of his cigarette, Sanji turns to Gramps Suki, his eyes holding a little glimmer of excitement.

"When are you gonna show me those knives, old man?" The cook raises an eyebrow.

You faintly remember the conversation Gramps had with Sanji from last night; they were both chatting so animatedly - so passionately - on the importance of culinary knives, of each make and consequent use for specific ingredients – and, most importantly, on how truly important they are to a cook’s honour.

“One’s blades reflect what type of cook someone is…It’s similar to a marimo and the relationship with their sword,” Gramps had described to Sanji. “Are they sharpened properly? Are they well-kept, polished, and stored? Do your blades feel like an extension of your hand, or does it feel like what you’re holding is heavy, dull – almost like a corpse?”

Sanji vigorously nodded his head, deeply attentive to the old man’s words.

“Absolutely agree. That’s what distinguishes a good cook from a great one,” he had said, developing a newfound respect for Gramps Suki.

Gramps was so impressed by this blond cook and how palpable his passion for his cuisine was, that he’d offered to show him something he’d never mention in conversation to anyone else – his own artisanal culinary knives.

Gramps Suki smirks at him, taking a long sip of his tea. "You can use them when we make dinner later."

An authoritative decree thunders through the air as Nami, with a raised eyebrow, sticks her finger at the cook. “Hey, you’re not getting out of this. Start cleaning.”

Suddenly, Sanji, like a lovestruck marionette, succumbs to her authority. He stumbles toward her, a cigarette hanging precariously from his lips, his movements resembling a gleeful dance of compliance.

“Nami wields authority like a sorceress,” Sanji sighs dreamily, a sweet smile gracing his lips.

Quite blatantly ignoring him, Nami turns to you with a smile. “Leave the battlefield to us! We’ll make this place spotless.”

Your forehead creases. “I’m cleaning too, right?”

“You have more important things to do!”

You give her another confused look. Besides crafting Zoro’s swords, what else is there that you need to do?

Leaning in with a theatrical flair, she drops this gem in your ear, “Oh, you haven't noticed? Zoro's just been a beacon of patience lately. Losing his swords is clearly putting him in a state of enlightenment, don't you think?'"

Raising an eyebrow, you pivot to glance at Zoro, who conveniently nods off the moment 'cleaning' slips from Nami's lips. You didn't realize he was so emotionally attached to his swords – I mean, who could've guessed, especially considering the sorry state his blades were in?

As everyone's battling the clutter in the studio — no thanks to Zoro — you notice Usopp stumbling upon some wild contraption in the middle of the cleanup.

"Hey, what's this gizmo?" Usopp shouts, giving a crank a good twist.

Franky barrels over, suddenly hyped by the crank action. "Whoa! What do we got here? Move aside, Usopp! Lemme look at it!"

Smiling at their curiosity, you decide to gravitate towards the two gadget-loving-nerds. "Oh, that’s my cannon. It's not quite perfected yet," you explain, unveiling the inner workings. “See? I’ve added a better scope…here… and used a lighter alloy…there…to increase its efficiency. The form’ll be slimmed more like this…”

You excitedly point at the sketches pinned on the wall, clearly passionate about the work that you’ve devoted your life to. As you continue explaining your design with evident love in your voice, a peculiar sensation washes over you—an instinct that you're being discreetly observed. A pair of eyes lingers in the distance, silently drinking in every detail of your explanation.

Caught in this enigmatic gaze, you spin around, anticipating a mischievous culprit - only to find Zoro, still sound asleep...

Franky’s eyes are glistening as he whispers to himself, breaking you out of your little bubble. “I think…I think I’ve finally found my work-soulmate…”

You grin at him, crossing your arms. “I’d like to see some of your stuff, actually. You’re the shipwright they keep talking about, right?”

Franky nods wildly, unable to contain his excitement – finally, he’s able to nerd out to someone about his designs and they’ll be able to actually understand them.

After making promises to work with each other in the near future, you decide to excuse yourself from distracting the crew with their little self-appointed mission.

Gently, your hands fumble over the apron slung gracefully over your neck and the goggles adorning your head. A soft exhale precedes the enchantment – once, then twice – each fingertip and thumb gradually igniting into a decadent, sizzling red.

In a subtle movement, your eyes dart to your side, catching the marimo's watchful gaze.

“You don’t have to pretend to sleep if you want to watch me work, you know,” you smirk as you stretch your fingers out, letting the blood run through your most important tools.

Zoro grumbles, trying to maintain his usual stoic demeanour, but the red hue on his cheeks deepens. "I ain't watchin' or pretendin' anything," he mutters, avoiding eye contact. “Just making sure you don’t burn down the whole place.”

In a graceful swoop, your hand clasps over the first glass tube, the glinting Enma serenely solidified in its throat. After a few minutes, the purified alloy begins to release its tension, swimming in its own silver sea. You close your eyes, reaching out with your Haki, searching for her.

Yes, I’m still here, she whispers, her metallic hum reverberating through your bones.

Your eyes open in shock. That’s the same voice of his old Enma.

She’s still alive, you think, and you beam widely at your revelation.

Hello, you think to the metal. You’ll be back in his hands very soon.

As Luffy throws out his arms parallel to his body, he stretches out across the studio, stuffing your hammers and screwdrivers back into random open drawers. But then, just like rubber, they furiously sling back to its owner like a boomerang, completely wiping out anything and everything that’s standing in between his body and arms.

He strings his hands all around the studio, making more of a mess than being of help. Nami’s having a heart attack as she trails behind Luffy’s wriggling arms, trying to minimise the wreckage he’s manifesting.

This time, Chopper falls victim to Luffy’s antics.

In an instant, Luffy inadvertently threads his arm through the reindeer’s legs, who's precariously balancing a tower of ores. Chopper yelps as the ground beneath him vanishes, desperately clawing at the air to maintain balance.

Swiftly, Robin leaps into action. Delicate hands sprout like blossoming flowers around the reindeer in a perfect circle, deftly capturing each airborne tool and, most importantly, keeping Chopper up before he crashes to the floor.

“Thanks, Robin,” Chopper pants, his eyes as wide as cannonballs.

“You know what Luffy?” Nami pants, wiping sweat from her face. She points at the naughty corner wedged between where you and Zoro are seated. “Just sit down there. We got it from here.”

“Okay!” Luffy shrugs, happily skipping over to you. He assumes his seat like a picture-perfect student.

But as a few seconds elapse, Luffy's initial obedience wanes, and he starts groaning, incapable of staying in one spot for more than a moment. Gradually, his head nudges against yours as he watches your meticulous hands at work, releasing random ‘ooooh’s’ and ‘ahhhh’s’ at various intervals. You can't help but grin at his antics, finding yourself more entertained than annoyed by his intervention.

“Sooooo, Swords!” Luffy pipes out. “When did you start making swords?”

“When I was eight, I think?” You start smiling, relishing in the memory of your first ever sword-making experience.

“Tell me the story!” he demands, his hands propped on both cheeks, eyes wide with anticipation.

Gramps suddenly guffaws from his usual seat in the back of the shop. “She was such a brat!”

Lowering the book that he was reading, you notice a smile very much like yours resting across his face. No doubt, he's savouring the same memory that you're thinking of.

You nod sheepishly, while flipping through hundreds of blueprints for the right make. “He wouldn’t let me make swords at first, which I thought was totally ridiculous.”

“You were eight!” Gramps exclaims. “What kind of responsible adult lets a child run around with murderous weapons?”

 You stick your tongue out at him cheekily.

“I had to learn by watching. Back in our homeland, I’d sneak into Gramps’s studio in the evening, and I’d watch him work in the shadows. And when he’d go back upstairs, I’d push my sleeves up and get started…

“I remember the first time looking at all these terrifying, massive tools and wondering if I was going to get into trouble. ‘Using your hands other than for serving tea or playing instruments is unwomanly,’ they’d drill into me. ‘Women must keep their hands soft, slender and clean.’”

“That’s awful,” Nami frowns as she and the rest of the crew gather on a bench behind you. Sanji lights another cigarette, deeply inhaling his first puff.

“I never understood stuff like that,” Franky mutters, making Chopper fiercely hum in agreement.

“I can’t tell you how many times I hurt myself on my first try. I burnt myself - millions of times, actually – melted metal on my fingers, hammered my own hands—”

“Hit your head on the anvil…” Gramps lists while reading his book.

Everyone immediately bursts out in laughter, especially Luffy, and even Zoro - who’s supposed to be asleep - has a faint smile twitching on his lips.

“You did what?!” Luffy shouts, grinning.

“Thanks for that,” you hiss, glaring at your old man; this time, he sticks his tongue out at you. You turn back around, continuing to recount the story.

“I didn’t go to sleep that night. I worked until dawn, put my whole soul into it. So when Gramps came climbing downstairs—"

“It was AWFUL!” Gramps exclaims, chucking his book on the table. “Her sword looked like a massive sausage! Wobbly and wriggly and chunky!”

“You know what he said to me?” You grin, remembering the moment like it was yesterday. “He took my sword, silently inspected it…And I swear I thought he was going to shout at me because little girls shouldn’t be doing men’s work… but instead, he looked down at me, sausage sword in hand, and said –

“’It’s awful. Do it again.’” You and Gramps quote together.

The crew erupts into laughter, and even Zoro's eyes open slightly as a tiny smile crosses his face. Luffy slaps his knee, thoroughly entertained.

“Gramps, you’re mean!” Luffy accuses between laughs.

“I was just being honest,” Gramps defends himself with a big grin.

Nami, with a smirk, interjects, “Well, it looks like that didn’t discourage you.”

You shake your head, “Nope. If anything, what he said pissed me off so much that I worked ten times harder. I kept at it. And eventually, Gramps couldn’t deny that I had a talent for it.”

“More like stubbornness,” Gramps adds, but there's a fondness in his eyes.

“Maybe a bit of both,” you concede with a grin. “But it was the start of my journey as a swordsmith. And now, here we are.”

Luffy, still chuckling, claps you on the back. “That’s awesome, Swords! I like you!”

“Speaking of swords,” Usopp interjects, smugly smiling to himself, “I think that we’re missing a huge opportunity here – something that won’t ever be allowed again in different circumstances.”

“What? What?” Chopper and Luffy bounce together, both completely captivated by his words.

Usopp grins, closing one eye. Dramatically, he shoots his finger into the air before slowly cocking it downwards.

He points at the marimo like a sniper rifle. Everyone turns to stare at him.

“Zoro, would you say you are a swordsman?” Usopp demands in a fake dramatic voice.

Zoro, clearly unimpressed by Usopp's theatrics, narrows his eyes and sighs.

“Are you stupid?”

“And would you say you like swords?” Usopp continues, intentionally ignoring his comment.

Zoro’s eyebrow twitches a little. This time, he doesn’t even grace him with an answer.

“’Why yes, I love swords, Usopp - my fearless crewmate!’” Usopp impersonates Zoro, quickly scrawling a fake scar on his eye with your marker pen. “Well, Zoro, my friend, since you're a swordsman, I've got a ground-breaking idea that will shake the very foundations of the ground you stand on!”

Luffy cackles, smacking his hand on his knee. “What is it? Tell us!”

“Yes, do tell us!” Gramps claps.

Usopp grins at the positive reception that he’s receiving– even Gramps is now captivated by this oddly stellar performance.

 “We are here, with the best swordsmiths of the land, with unlimited swords at our disposal, with a swordsman who loves swords….” Usopp looks at each and every one of you with meaning. He leans in, a mischievous glint in his eye.

 “In honour to show our appreciation for our sword-loving friend… I think it’s time for a Zoro-impersonation performance.”

[whentherewerebicycles]

did six hours of meds to soften my cervix, did the foley balloon in two hours (an experience I have still not fully recovered from emotionally lol), and then did 12ish hours of pitocin to jumpstart labor. that gave me a tiny little taste of labor without pain meds… I think I could have done it, esp once my sister and I started doing counter-pressure! counter-pressure is incredible! I got to 5cm 80% effaced that way. but omg I needed to sleep soooooooo bad and the contractions were way too intense and coming way too close together for that to be possible so we did the epidural at 4am and I immediately passed out harder than I’ve ever passed out in my life lol. four hours of sleep felt like ten hours. epidurals are amazing I want to kiss my anesthesiologist on the mouth. then they broke my water at 7:45 and I am about to go back to sleep! I legit keep forgetting I’m having a baby it feels like I’m just a subject in some kind of weird intense experimental medical trial from which I will never escape. NOW SLEEP

[alaskan-wallflower]

Hiya!! In your fantasy au (I’m sorry I forgot how to spell what the actual name of your au is 🥲) do the gang including the curtis’ have any weaknesses? And if they do how do they affect them? would they need help if they came into contact with their weakness?

(Literally obsessed with your au man 🤭)

Ooooh thank you!! I love hearing that people enjoy my au 😭🫶🏻

But yes!! The gang does have weaknesses! To even things out I decided that if a human cuts a piece of a Wretched off (for example taking one of Darry’s feathers) would give that human the ability of that Wretched. So if you cut off one of Darry’s tail feathers you would be able to control fire. So that could count as a weakness say if someone with a fire bound’s body part went up against Dallas—

There are small things though too! Like Pony is light bound, and if he’s in the dark for too long (like pitch dark-he gets energy from sun and moonlight-artificial lights somewhat but not really) he’ll get seriously sick and will end up dying or becoming Unspoken (which basically means his powers took control of his mind)-maybe i’ll do some angst w that lol

similar with Soda, like he can use his electricity for all sorts of things-he can act as a generator and can jumpstart cars like no other, but if he expels too much he ends up getting really sick and needs a bit of a “recharge” which can take a few days, or another electric bound could transfer some energy. Soda can also “overvolt” to which he becomes impossible to touch because he has so much electricity stored in him and it hurts a lot

Darry can’t really go into the water for too long-he also can’t really be in the cold for too long either. This part’s kinda based off Pokémon but Darry has a flame at the top of his tail that if he lets it go out he’ll end up getting so incredibly sick and could even die. Same with his chest fire-the reason they made him the shed he sleeps in now aaa because when he outgrew the house it had rained real bad that night and Mrs and Mr Curtis walked outside and saw that he was hardly breathing and the flame on his tail was so weak—it took days to get it to regenerate but he was practically in a coma. Real scary.

With Johnny since he isn’t necessarily your run of the mill element bound tends to be a little bit stronger, but it’s easy for him to slip into hallucinations, especially if he’s scared. He was actually given Alora and Almos (his little squirrel companions) because The Celestials thought he would need it and need the help regulating things, especially since it’s that much easier to slip into insanity when you’re bound to something that isn’t an element (dreams, time, sound, etc.) but with him pretty much any element can be used against him just the same and it would hurt just as much. I’m still working on a design concept so i’ll have to get back to you on him and two bit haha

But Dallas is much like Darry. He can’t be in the hot for too long and is absolutely hurt by fire and heat. Him and Darry have to be careful when hanging out sometimes—it’s how his brother Rusty was killed, Dallas has this ice chip embedded in his chest and if he gets that thawed somehow he’d die or get sick. Rusty was killed because they shattered his to the point he couldn’t regenerate it. I’m still kinda formulating him lol

Once I get an idea of Two’s design I’ll get back on him-

Steve and Ace are very much similar to Darry and Soda—Steve can’t be in the cold and Ace runs the risk of over or undervolting. Despite them both being metal bound it’s still a possibility. They’re also magnetic to an extent so do with that what you will.

It’s still a work in progress!! I didn’t have much time to do the rest :( but seriously i LOVE hearing that people enjoy my aus 🥺 This made me so happy to answer—if anyone else has any questions feel free to ask!! I’d love to answer!!

[soleilnomoon]

Kaia my darling!!!!! Congrats on your milestone!!!

Can I get strawberries with a mai tai, and songs 8 bubblegum, 16 bonfire, and 44. “I’m sorry have we met?” for either sanji, law, or rayleigh?

Please and thank you! 💕

hiiiiii bb 🤩 okay so i picked rayleigh bc hello i love that man obsessively 🤭 this was my first time writing a full fic for him so i was v excited, ty ty 💙 and even tho fluff tries to claim my life every time i write it, i persevered (for u, this is me proposing obvy~) anyway i had fun!! 🥰️

1.3k words (i tried, i tried to keep it under 1k, i failed so bad), gn reader, sfw (just slightly suggestive yk the vibes babey), 18+ mdni; fluff!!!!!!! and maybe, maybe, a tiny tiny bit of angst maybe. just maybe. feat. reader wanting to be a lone wolf, rayleigh who is just v social when alcohol is involved, denial (of feelings and attraction, sort of), it's not cheating bc... well it's not. no real warnings, there's alcohol and a beach and a bonfire. the moon is a paid actress, the ocean is a special guest <3 i, too, would be flustered like crazy around rayleigh, he's got bde 💛 (if u see spelling/grammar errors no u didn't bb)

solitude haunts you without remorse — heavy, daunting, an eerie melody that saturates your world. gray and unending, with a curtain so thick that it obscures your vision most days. it nestles itself in the grooves of the footprints you leave behind in the wet sand along the shore, the ocean water kissing the bottom of your feet as the tide ebbs and flows with practiced ease. you pause in your slow gait and allow the water to wash over your feet over and over before moving forward.

you don’t have a particular destination in mind, you simply wanted to be away from the noise of the sea-faring town you decided to visit. and while you don’t actively seek out solitude, it still follows you around, blending into your shadow, but there’s a comfort in its presence.

because, then, you’re never truly alone, are you?

partially obscured, a waning crescent moon illuminates the ocean, glowing brightly; another comfort that pushes aside that empty, aching feeling in your chest. the ripples in the water are mesmerizing and hypnotic, but you don’t fall prey to its machinations — you don’t let the barely audible melodies of the lurking sirens tempt you into walking closer.

if anything, you give yourself some distance.

there’s a small gathering nearby, the partygoers beckoning you with their promises of drinks and good food. if your traitorous stomach didn’t gurgle so loudly, you would have been able to refuse without issue.

still, it doesn’t hurt to eat, especially when everything smells rich and enticing, strong enough to make your mouth water. you watch the crowd around you, their infectious laughter seeps into your skin, a small flicker of warmth igniting to jumpstart your heart.

this is nice, you tell yourself before taking out a piece of bubblegum from your bag and chewing on it. you don’t particularly like this brand or flavor — much too sweet and a little thick — but you need something to do, and chewing gum helps calm you, surprisingly enough.

silvers rayleigh has never been fond of rooting himself in one, singular place; the desire to roam, to investigate the wonders of the world, to meet and experience life through people — it overwhelms him constantly. to combat that impulse, he sticks to roaming nearby islands, accidentally stumbling upon the same coastal town you find yourself in.

and again it’s pure coincidence that leads him to take the empty chair closest to you. he doesn’t bother with the flask he has, opting to graciously accept the free drinks from the revelers nearby. the brandy is sweet, but crisp — something he’s not too accustomed to, but it puts him at ease all the same. it’s when you pucker your lips and exhale to blow your bubblegum into a decent sized bubble, that he takes notice of you.

well, no—that’s a lie.

he already did notice you, in town earlier. you still have that same, dazed look in your eyes, the same melancholy that inadvertently acts as a small shield to protect you from others draped along your shoulders. you’re not a case study, he knows that, but that doesn’t keep him from observing you all the same.

it’s something stronger than morbid curiosity, and the more he drinks, the closer he comes to discovering the truth in that.

the bubble pops unceremoniously, the saccharine scent is much stronger than he thought it’d be; even as he steadies his breathing, it’s almost as the wind is working against him, keeping him rooted in the chair as he’s bombarded with the playful, artificial smell of strawberry and cherry all in one.

it’s much more pleasant than he thought it would be.

you’re not the best at observing your surroundings, but you’re not completely helpless — especially not when the man next to you is so boldly looking at you without remorse or shame. you chew on the fruity bubblegum thoughtfully and turn towards him unprompted.

a coy smile hangs onto his lips, the corners of his mouth curling upward as thinly veiled amusement flits about on his face.

“i’m sorry,” you say softly, in between chews, “have we met?”

the question is valid, and he should probably answer you, but he finishes his drink instead and waves someone down to pour him another.

with furrowed brows, you watch him quietly, taking in the sharp angle of his jaw and admiring the way he savors each sip of his drink. a peculiar silence surrounds both of you, and when he looks your way again, his eyes sweep over you once — almost like an intimate touch between lovers — and you suddenly remember that you’ve been holding your breath, waiting for him to answer you.

he takes his time, though, the tip of his tongue briefly gliding onto his lip —because wasting even a single drop of brandy is irresponsible, in his opinion. it’s with clarity and certainty that he tells you, “no.”

the answer isn’t surprising, and you’re not sure what you expected him to say. his voice is deep and rich, with a huskiness that completely suits his rugged demeanor. you don’t know what to do with that feeling, because for some reason, you feel as though you should know him. one after another, thoughts infiltrate the darkest parts of your mind, reviving you with a startling reminder that your heart — as pitiful and naïve as it is — still works perfectly fine.

in fact, it’s working a little too hard right now, beating louder with each passing second. you almost rub at your chest, but refrain from doing so, and blow another bubble to take your mind off it all.

“but,” he continues, as if he didn’t leave you in limbo for the longest sixty seconds of your life, “does that matter?”

he’s playing a dangerous game, he knows that, but rayleigh loves the high that comes with the risk of gambling. it’s invigorating and fresh, much more interesting than coating ships on the sabaody archipelagos.

it’s alluring, the confidence he exudes. his attractiveness is offensive and wholly unavoidable, which annoys you. it’s irrational, you know, you know but the longer you look at him, the more you yearn to get out of your chair and—

you cut yourself off completely from that thought and chew, chew, chew. maybe if you fill your senses with the taste of the bubblegum, you’ll distract yourself from his presence. he’s completely certain you’ll continue to allow him the pleasure of conversation, much to your inevitable dismay.

solitude is safer, you tell yourself. it’s what you’ve always known, but an unnecessary flush stains your cheeks and the heat makes it impossible to look at him for much longer.

“i suppose it really doesn’t matter,” you manage to say, and with great difficulty you force yourself to look at him again and find that he’s never once took his eyes off you.

the intensity behind his gaze is unnerving, but welcomed; a contradictory feeling, but there’s something overtly calming about his presence. so you let yourself step out of your comfort zone and allow him into your space, to pick your brain on various topics without restraint.

he’s normally not this chatty, preferring to drink and fool around — as talking requires a level of vulnerability that he’s not interested in giving. but with you, he finds it incredibly easy to do so — even allowing you to ask him questions about himself and the adventures he’s had on the sea. you get more animated as the night goes on, the bonfire still burning fierce and keeping you warm.

rayleigh’s voice drizzles onto your skin, his words smooth and suggestive without even trying. normally you wouldn’t entertain a man like this, but you’re trapped in his orbit, his aura prompting you to scoot your chair closer, so you can talk to him more privately. he’s completely enchanted by you — with your animated expressions, with the way you talk with your hands a lot, with how you keep leaning closer and closer to him. if you knew just how cute and charming you were, he might be in trouble.

thankfully, you don’t.

and while he already has someone that occupies the majority of his heart, he’s starting to think that he wouldn’t mind making space for someone like you.

[saltyr3mix]

I haven't watched outsiders smp however maze au intrigues me SO!

Either take this opportunity to freely ramble or tell me about Carly if you need a more specific topic.

As much as I would absolutely love to ramble about the maze au, it's very unfinished. I've been rejecting working on it because I know that if i do i may actually never recover. So I don't have a lot to say on it.....carly on the other hand.....

To learn from the tragedies: she's doing her best. She's been through a lot but won't let that drag her down at all. She becomes a little more relevant in book two where there's a a whole massive B plot about her and Ridley. The plot of tlfft was written before season two, so she and Ridley have a very different dynamic, that is to say she absolutely despises him. Hates everything to do with him. So she starts to try and understand and like hear him out and befriend him at some point. And is also like a good like pillar of hope? Doesn't let anyone else get stressed or panicked about the past. She and Alyssa make a plan of like all the things that trigger people and how to avoid them and how to help if if to occurs anyway.

Shattered dreams: typical standard Carly. I don't think there's anything really important to say here. I really like her dynamic with the triplets here. I think that was my favorite part with her in it.

One shots/you'll live until I die: I feel like Carly is such a strong character you can really put her anywhere and she'd act the same. In most of these fics she's either not around a lot or plays a sort of role model, guiding role. Some how always coming off as a sister to like almost everyone she interacts with.

I'd like to take a moment to call out Roller Gays Carly for a minute. She's awesome. Best I've ever written her think. Idk something about whatever Danger put in to Vivian Dawn just- their dynamic is amazing and it helps me write Carly better I can't explain it but yeah. Viv is like.....cannon to most of my fics unless stated otherwise. She's not always mentioned and sometimes never even is important to plot or Cary but she exists in nearly every universe.

I will make them create my world: girl has blood lust<3 cursed with violence and rage<3 killed so many people<3 anyway she's a girlboss and deserves your respect. She died to some unknown cause by the forest that he had mistreated as a child. If there's one thing I wish I would have down for that fic, it would be to include more magical or like absurd and wacky elements. I was a little too focused on the war aspect to describe the wonderland bit.

Buried masks: finally! A fighter! Despite being like theeeeeee second to last person to be brought down (they arrive in the order they died in cannon if that helps you), she makes the biggest impact. Both because at this point Sara is so tired of the waiting period and knows that Carly is very very stubborn and more importantly, rebellious. She takes matters into her own hands and jumpstarts some things to do with cheer a little early.

This isn't an entirely bad decision, as Carly would have reacted the same either way, and now Sara's made it to where she can't be a physical problem for at least a few weeks. The real issue lies in the rest of the group, but mainly Eric going like what the fuck Sara! You can't judo that to a person!

"oh but it was a gift!"

And then they realize all their 'gifts' they've collected over the years are actually terrible and weird. Which like they knew but it got blocked out over time with familiarty.

Even after Carly recovers and with Eric's help finishes Sara's whole introduction thing, she's not going down easy. This girl is a menace she gets on Sara's nerves more than anyone else and will not be sitting around and playing doll. Nope not her.

It takes some pretty intense lash back from Sara for Carly to get more in line with everybody else. I think one of the darkest moments in the fic that I keep referencing, is Carly doing something to her mask and that being Sara's sort of final straw with her.

But you'll have to keep reading to figure out what that leads into.

skating in silence/swap au: I really liked the idea of giving Carly a broken soul that represents the opposite of her in the sense that it's insecure and quiet and a little bit more compassionate over Combative. I wish more people played around with swap aus in this fandom lol, I have like 3 but broken Carly is so fun. I've been calling the "cheer" aspect of her either Cherry or Cassy and she is very sweet. Yeah the Cheer animatronic has a tendency to whatch a kid fall and skate over and slowly help them up gently with positive reinforcement only to blink and then throw them on the rink and see if they sink or swim, with no in-between.

Superhero au: She goes fast!!!! Super speed!!! She's the Vigilante Derby! She was left on the hero towers door step as a baby and Eric not knowing the correct protocol at the time took her in and just adopted her. Any way she grew up around heros and promptly hated every single one of them. She joined the training program but dropped out because of the stress it gave her. She wanted to help people but she didn't want re-ward for it. And she didn't want to deal all of the vague rules and policies that the organization had. So she talked to her father about it and he allowed her to partake in vigilantism! (She would have done it with or with out his approval but this just makes things easier) of course he has his own set of rules for her but there a lot easier to understand. Plus he helps sneak her old hero technology to use.

Ridley enters the picture at some point as a younger brother who is the exact opposite of her and absolutely adored everything hero related and went on to be one. Carly and Ridley become pretty good friends with Ben while he's there in the program.

That's all of her backstory. She appears every now and then for fighting reasons or to cause Eric stress but she's mostly ok! She teams up with Damien, Oliver and Ben later for their mission because she's in pretty good standings with all the other vigilante s in the area and after everything the organization did to Eric and Ridley she's more than happy to take it down.

Steven universe au: she's a Corrupted carnelian. I like to think her corrupted traits have like green and yellow coloring. How does she go from monster to semi-normal gem with out a bunch of diamond magic????? I- just uhhhhhh.... Idk? It happened. Well figure it out.

Anyway she hates Ridley and is super jealous of him because Eric is her guy! Eric's all excited to see her again and Ridley had no clue who she is. And it just sucks for all parties. But they get over it. Likely through celio and Wiatt stepping in.

Because Carly is corrupted she's prone to lashing out and getting agitated easily. Meaning the rest of the gems have trouble connecting with her. She is also very very anti-homeworld and completely pro-crystal gems. This causes problems with people like the triplets and Ben and sometimes even Damien tho he'd never dare admit it.

She also doesn't know lewis was a diamond. So. That's not great.

All of that will sort itself out over time. Right now where I'm currently writing and working on the plot she is in a bit of an interesting situation. After flying to home world to Save lewis and minimum wage trio because the Sara can't go five minutes with out doing unethical sciences. The crystal gems land on homeworld and begin to be chased. Unfortunately, Carly and Mask get taken by their pursuers and are Rejuvenated (memory wiped)

Now everyone is freaking out! And I don't know how I'm going to fix it yet so for the time being she's just like that!

Maze au: HALF DEMON CARLY MY BELOVED!!! She's so silly. Got sentenced to death maze for speeding/hj. I don't know why yet but that's what I've been telling myself cause it's funny. Anyway she's definitely a runner. Best one they have if I'm honest. She thrives in the maze and running helps her blow if steam so she doesnt loose it at her clearing mates. Eric wasn't her father before the maze, in fact they come from different districts but in the maze she looks up to him and respects him more than anyone else and he feels a large sense of pride in her and they are just very sweet.

Oc au: so Carly is Alive!!! And is with Winnie in his old arcade! A lot of her character has been explained through other posts already when it comes to that subject so I'm going to on a quick ramble about earlier Carly in this au.

I think one of the first scenes we ever did was Twins vrs Roller gays race? Right after everything with lewis. Anyway imagine this, your doing your average routine if spreading ghost stories about the caves beneath the facility. (I full heartily believe all of the rummers in that video tape were the twins fault.) Anyway your doing your thing and these two decked out lesbians appear behind you and ruin your story with logic! How dare they!

And then! They have the audacity to challenge you to race, in your own turf. On the rink you may have been beat but their taking you on in your grounds, they want to race you through the maze. You laugh and say easy you could beat them blind folded.

And so they hand you a set of blind folds. And yeah this race just becomes more absurd until both sets are bind folded and have their hands tied together.

Ready set go!

Twins take off! Roller gays immediately toss off the blind folds and put on skates. Their plan? Follow the twins but faster and then just lie at the end and put the blindfolds back on.

As you can see, every party involved is very mature and responsible and nothing bad happens during this race at all what do ever. No one gets injured :3

(ok so maybe the twins also cheated a little and decided to use the employee short cuts, which aren't as safety regulated as the rest of the maze, and maybe one of the mad house employees forgot to shut the plot convenient electrical hazards box And maybe they ran right into it on accident and roller gays had to take them To Oliver to help first aid with the electrical burns.)

I love the oc au so much it's so silly.

Anyway hope you enjoyed the Carly Head cannons!!! I would recommend outsiders but I'm not entirely sure if it for everyone, its 21 hours long! But if your thinking about getting into it but not wanting to make that commitment, I forced Theater to whatch it with me over the sumer with a very speedran version of the series the cut out everything that wasn't a major plot point. If your interested you can ask them for the link to that playlist!

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Another one:

Masterlist This is ridiculous to the point that I can't get it out of my head. Jake is SMITTEN for you. He's down BAD.

To the point that he is torn between fucking you into oblivion and throwing himself at your feet and worshiping the ground you walk on.

He thinks of you all. the. time. When he's out hunting, when he's asleep, when he's awake, when he's jerking off, when he feels down. You are his go-to thought. You can get him out of any tight spot, regardless of if it's because he's stressed or sad or angry—it doesn't matter. You are his salvation from everything.

When he fucks you...oh, when he fucks you. He's lost in bliss, he can't see anything but you and your body and your face; he can't hear a thing but you gasping and mewling his name; he can't feel anything but you under him, over him, beside him—all of those, added to the wonderful, warm feel of your pussy clenching around him. And he'll take extra care to make sure you're satisfied. And I mean satisfied. He will make you come over and over and over again until you're a boneless mess, whining for his cock, and he'll drink up your arousal, clean you up, before sticking his long cock in you.

Aftercare with Jake is the best. He will pull out of you gently, caress your face, ask you if you're okay. He'll kiss your body, lick up your mixed orgasms as they drip out of you, and then he'll clean you up. He'll cuddle with you, hold you tight, praise you and thank you for taking him so well. You'll end up murmuring half-witted responses, too exhausted to formulate more than little unintelligible sounds, and he loves it.

When you cry—outside of sex when he overstimulates you—he'll hold you close. He'll hug you, pull your head to his chest, whisper into your ear, “Shh, it's okay, pretty girl. It's alright. Cry it out. I'm here for you. Shh, easy.” And deep inside, he's broken, aching for you, hating that you're hurt, hating that he can't take away whatever ails you. And he'll kiss your cheeks, lick your tears off your face, treat you like a princess for days after your breakdowns.

On the other hand, when you smile—fuck, it drives him crazy. When he catches you smiling at anything, he'll glance up at the sky and murmur “Thank you” to whatever devine force resides out there that has allowed him to be here with you. Your laugh makes him dizzy with joy, the way your eyes squint slightly and the way your canines show make him want to grab you in his arms and hold you tight, spin you around in circles and never let you go. You are the light in his life, your laugh is the jumpstart to his heart. He loves you. More than anything.

When you tell him “I See you” he struggles to maintain his composure. Part of him wants to kiss you all over, repeatedly, for eternity, climb a tree and hide there with you and simply tell you and show you how much he loves you. But he remains calm and tells you that he Sees you, with a small smile on his lips, a gentle tilt of his head. (Still, the way his amber eyes shine are a dead giveaway for how giddy your words make him.)

Anyone that is—or has been—even remotely rude to you, even in the smallest way, even if it's accidentally, will make Jake act up. He might not outright lash out against them, but he'll glare after them, keep an extra close eye on them when they're around you. When you two are alone, he'll ask if said person is bothering you, if you're okay, if you need him to help you handle things. He knows you're capable of dealing with shit on your own, but he just wants to carry you around, protect you, keep you safe from everything and everyone.

And, speaking of, he's always looking out for you. Gone hunting? He's behind you, looking around, ensuring no other predator is creeping up on you. You got a scratch? A bruise? A tiny cut? He'll fuss over it, take care of it, force you to lay down while he cleans the injured spot and peppers you with kisses. He'll pamper you over it, too. Make you stay at home for a while, insisting you don't leave the Hometree until you're all better, to which you'll point out, “Ma Jake, it's just a cut.” But he doesn't care how small. To him, a wound is a wound. Deep down, he's terrified that he'll lose you. He'll be damned if a tiny injury on you somehow takes a complicated turn and takes you away from him too early. He refuses to risk you, even in the tiniest ways.

He loves stargazing with you. More specifically, he loves watching you stargaze. He loves the way the stars shine in your eyes, the way the dots on your face glow, the way you cuddle up against him while you stare up at the night sky. And he loves late-night talks. The way you spill your heart out before him, the way you trust him, fully, the way you still blush a little when he looks deep into your eyes. He loves to know how important he is to you. He loves when you talk for hours. He loves getting to know you, loves being around you, loves you.

Every night, as he falls asleep, he thanks Eywa and God and every other deity he could possibly think of for allowing his destiny to intertwine with yours. He does not know what he would do without you in his life.