#I just wanted them available for my own sake

[fvrtvne]

i'm not really sure why you rp isabela as avoidant to romance when she's clearly available to romance in game?

I'd have recommended coming off of anon so I could DM you about this privately, but no, you're choosing to waste my time with this ask.

Really? Really?

I need you to step back for a moment and ruminate on these questions ;

) Do you remember Dragon age 2?

) Did you just mindlessly mash through dialogue because hhrrrr pirate lady hot sexy hgghhdhghsouhhhh?

) Did you even play Dragon Age 2?

Look, I get it's hard to sit back and remember every piece of dialogue, but if you even remotely cared about Isabela as a character / actually cared enough about the game to listen to her dialogue then you'd understand that she does NOT want to be in a relationship when you first meet her.

Beyond maybe, idk, looking over her wiki, what vibes beyond finalizing your romance with her gave you the impression that she was going to throw her arms around you and run off into the sunset? Where in any of the story, even through bits of dialogue, does Isabela ever hint that she's ready to settle into a committed relationship?

Here, let me grab one of my favorite (not actually) excerpts from her wiki page; (which, btw, since we're here, google's free) ;

But Madam Hari grew disillusioned with the life of a fraud and eventually she converted to the Qun to give meaning to her life. She sold Isabela into marriage with a business associate of the Antivan Crows, Luis, when she refused to convert. While Isabela offers numerous interpretations of the bargain her mother struck when she was given away, she is noted as having told Varric Tethras once that her mother gave her away in exchange for nothing more than the promise that she would be looked after. Luis took her to Antiva City and they were married three weeks later, just shy of Isabela's nineteenth birthday.

Alright, cool, hoping you digested that, because I'm gonna go ahead and link this image that accompanies that entry.

Does this look like someone who's happy with the prospect of marriage? Does this look like someone who isn't traumatized by a decision made without her consent?

I know this bit was hidden behind comics for like maybe a month (year? idk) after it was published, but for fucks sake, it's been on something as accessible as wikipedia since (and i spent over 20 minutes scrolling) March 15th 2013.

Consider, maybe even momentarily, that Isabela perhaps doesn't want to relive that trauma, or perhaps doesn't even want to come close to feeling as trapped as she did when her mother had made a life-altering decision without a SHRED of concern for her daughters wellbeing.

Put yourself in her shoes for a moment, yeah?

She spends the next 8-10(ish) years of her life pretty much coping with this by never settling down, even in terms of location. Through her own dialogue, even being stuck in one place for too long is almost too much for her.

If that isn't enough, please, for the love of god, consider additional dialogue she provides in the game.

You know who shares a similar trauma to her? Fenris. You know who she has a healthy and casual relationship with because neither of them are looking for tied down commitment without some sincerity and legwork due to their similar feelings of helplessness? Fenris. You know what kind of blog you wouldn't send an ask like this to bc you're very clearly hung up on Isabela? Fenris.

Yeah, they fuck nasty, but even in the mission you do to even recruit her, Isabela proves time and time again (until you ofc complete her romance mission) that she's violently uninterested in a deeper connection beyond casually fucking. (In her own words; "it was just rutting".)

Sure, you can romance her and have a semblance of some kind of relationship with her, but you, as Hawke, (provided you're romancing her), spend SEVEN TO EIGHT YEARS building foundations of TRUST and COMFORT to prove to her that you're capable of not only understanding her past, but helping her through it. You're proving that YOU can stand beside her when shit goes south, and that you're not going to prevent any attempt she makes to claw toward her own self liberation.

I've been writing Isabela for close to 12 years now, and I know the ins and outs of her character better than I know half of my college coursework.

Anyhow, replay Dragon Age 2, learn to use google (it's free! as a reminder!), and maybe order yourself a size 24 loafer to match your clown-car? Idk. Hold this for me.

[mad-madam-m]

So I was chatting with @kalira last night and we got to talking about older file formats and programs (because we started writing on Ye Olde Computers), and I mentioned how my very first fics are all in .wri format, which was the old Microsoft Write program from like...Windows 3.1. I had converted a couple of those old documents to .doc and .rtf back in the early aughts, but there were probably 6 or 7 that I’d never converted, which was Not Great as time marched on and .wri files became deprecated.

Over the past ~10 years, literally nothing I have tried would open those files; all the Microsoft stuff I can find basically says to use WordPad, which will (technically) open the files, but they are chock-full of so many random characters that they’re virtually unusable. I figured I’d have to manually pull the content out of each one, but as these are all novel-length stories...uh...that was going to be an Intensive Process.

Anyway, after that, I woke up this morning thinking that, hey, it’s been a few years since I’ve tried; I should search again and see if I can find anything that can open .wri files so I can save them in a newer, readable format.

What I found was an article that said, basically, “try LibreOffice.” The most recent review I found said that it would open most legacy file types, and honestly as long as it would 1) open them in a readable format and 2) let me copy-paste them into a new Word doc, then I was going to be a happy camper.

So I installed it, figuring what the hell, and used it to open the oldest .wri file on my system, a Star Wars fic.

And for the first time in nearly 20 years, I could READ MY FIRST FANFIC.

I’ve now opened and saved all of those old files as .docx files, so God willing, they should be readable for a long time to come.

So this is just a reminder: if you have old files that you haven’t converted to a newer format, do that before you (potentially) lose that ability entirely. And if you have legacy file types like .wri files specifically, give LibreOffice a try to get them open again.

[leebrontide]

Every single time I see a take that amounts to "if you write about X happening, or like fiction where X happens, you like X" I'm reminded of this one time I was at a casual friends house as a young kid. We were in her room, pretending to "be orphans" escaping from an evil orphanage and having to take care of each other and fend for ourselves. It was all very Little Orphan Annie/All Dogs Go to Heaven and based on the 80s pop media.

And this girl's mom comes in, hears what we're playing and gets all MAD and UPSET. She says that if we play act something, it's because we want it to happen. So her daughter must WANT HER TO DIE.

First off lady, we were 6 year year olds, so take it down several notches. We barely had a concept of mortality for fucks sake. She made us feel so guilty and ashamed, because she was taking our game personally.

Now I have a 5 year old. And sometimes she looks at me and says "pretend you're dead, and I have to -" Whatever it is. Some adult task she's assigned herself.

And it's just so transparently obvious that she's practicing the idea of having to do things on her own. Which is exactly what 5 year olds are supposed to do. I actually find it very flattering that the only way she can envision me not being available to help her is to be literally deceased. Otherwise, obviously, she wouldn't have to do scary hard things alone.

It's a natural coping mechanism. She's self-soothing about what would happen if I wasn't there by play-acting independence in a perfectly safe environment. She's also practicing skills she needs, and making up excuses for practicing them on her own, without taking on the responsibility of being able to do them by herself all the time yet.

Humans mentally rehearse bad this in their brains all the time. We can do that by ruminating- going over worries over and over again, which tends to lead to anxiety and helplessness and depression. Or we can do it with a sense of play- by recognizing that the fiction is fiction and we can dip our toe into these experiences and expose ourselves to bad things without actually being injured.

My daughter does not want me dead. And I don't want bad things to happen in real life. But fiction and pretend help me face the horrors of the world and think about them without collapsing or messing myself up mentally.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Glass Coffin

Weirder shit has happened in DC universe, but hear me out, Young Justice finds a glass coffin with Danny sleeping inside it. Maybe it's in some ancient tomb and hidden away for centuries, maybe it's in some villain's private collection of artifacts, maybe it's in some museum in plain sight.

And then Kon hears a heartbeat from it.

(I'm going with the version of YJ that is Kon, Tim, Cassie, and Bart here, fyi)

Assuming they didn't come to wherever they found the coffin just for the sake of it, they, as the responsible teenagers they are, finish their business first and take it to Mount Justice later to figure out what the fuck. Meanwhile, Danny is sleeping peacefully like a princess, all up in his King garb, with the Crown of stars, cape of night sky, and whatever else pretty stuff you want him to have. Point is, he looks majestic.

Tim looks up the records for the coffin. The files say it's hundreds of years old, and no one has been able to open it yet. The boy inside is stated to be either a statue or some kind of really well-preserved corpse - no amount of scanning registered any signs of life, so it was treated like a piece of art for the most part.

Yet, Con is absolutely positive he heard a heartbeat inside. What's more, he can still hear it now. It's impossibly slow but still recognizable.

Cassie finds a whole lot of legends about it, most of them speaking of 'only those from the other side can open the casket', and there are no clarifications to what kind of other side they are all talking about.

Of course, they all try. Because this is some kind of Snow White or Sleeping Beauty shit, and besides, none of them even think they would be able to open it anyway. And, sure, as soon as they are done having fun with it, they will report to the JL about their finding. Maybe the magic users will know something about the weird Sleeping Prince. They even go as far as to reason with the casket, loudly proclaiming where they are from, because they all come from very different 'sides'.

Bart goes first, explaining how he is from the future. The casket doesn't budge. Cassie goes next, stating herself as Themyskirian, but to no avail. Kon is next, with his half-Kryptonian heritage, but the glass coffin doesn't accept him as worthy either.

And then it's Tim's turn. And somehow, he flips the glass lid open with no effort at all.

A moment of silence follows, all the YJ members frozen in place, waiting for anything to happen, but the boy inside keeps just laying there, unmoving and with his eyes closed. Then Cassie makes a joke about kissing the princess to wake her up, and all of them start arguing on ethics and stuff because why is Robin the one that has to do the kissing, do you have any idea where that boy has been? Fuck off, you kiss him if you want it, and also, do you really want him to wake up, what if he is some kind of villain or an evil spirit, or-

"Which one of you assholes is dead enough to wake me up from my nap?"

And that's as far as I got with this idea. Maybe Danny was put into some magic sleep, maybe it was Clockwork's time shenanigans, maybe someone locked him inside and he decided to sleep it off, maybe he is there on his own volition, taking a vacation from Kingly duties.

I'm just having this vision of eternally beautiful Danny in a glass (oh, maybe it's not glass, maybe it's ice) coffin, and the YJ arguing over it. There's also Dead Tired potential here, because I love them, yes.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley loved settling in to a new routine with Rose at home. Taking care of you and the baby felt natural. If the most stressful thing he has to deal with was her godfather, then he counted it as a win.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, lactation kink, swearing, DILF Roo

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Here are your books," Bradley said softly as he carried his daughter around her nursery to her bookshelf. "And here is your crib." She blinked up at him and yawned, and he broke out into a smile. "And here's the chair from your grandparents where Mommy is going to feed you so you can take a nap."

You were standing in the doorway with both hands on Tramp's collar while he whimpered nonstop. "He's not going to rest until he gets to sniff her again," you said, fighting to hang onto him. "And lick her, and roll around on the floor next to her."

"Fine," Bradley said with a sigh. Tramp just spent twenty minutes losing his mind over the baby, but apparently that wasn't enough. Bradley sank down onto the floor with Rose in his arms, and she stretched her fists up toward his face and gave a soft cry. She looked adorable in the outfit your parents bought for her, and his heart clenched like always when he imagined how his own mom and dad would have reacted to being grandparents.

"Here he comes," you said, releasing the collar, and Tramp bounded the rest of the way into the nursery, whimpering and shaking with excitement. He licked the top of Rose's head, making her cry in the process before he started sniffing her hands.

"For fuck's sake," Bradley grunted, trying to coax Tramp to sit down while Rose curled up against his chest. "He's more excited about the baby than I am."

Carefully you sat next to him on the soft rug that looked like a cloud in the airplane nursery, kissing his cheek before you said, "Don't swear in front of the child."

He rolled his eyes. "She can't understand it yet."

You gave him a pointed look. "Don't make me take away your privileges."

Bradley opened his mouth to ask what you meant, but he was immediately silenced as you pulled your shirt over your head and got ready to feed Rose. "Shit," he muttered, wondering how the fuck he was going to last six weeks with your tits in his face and zero chance at intercourse. "I'll behave."

"While Rose eats, I think we should talk about a few things," you whispered, taking her into your arms with a smile and kissing her cheek before getting her situated.

Bradley pulled Tramp onto his lap, doing his best to keep him from loudly sniffing his human sister and making her cry again. Bradley watched you fidget with your leggings around your waist. "What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" he asked while you fed Rose.

"No," you muttered, not looking at him. "My body is like a deflated balloon."

"Baby Girl," he whispered, leaning in to kiss your ear softly. "You're only a few days postpartum. You birthed an entire person. And you look beautiful. You always will."

He gave up his quest to keep Tramp at bay and let the dog lick the baby's foot as you started crying. "I think my hormones are going insane again," you sobbed, and he wrapped one arm around your shoulders and helped you hold Rose with the other. "And I'm really tired."

"I know," he whispered, peppering your face with kisses. "That's why I'm sending you and the Nugget both for nap time as soon as she's done. Now let's talk about what you want to talk about."

"Right," you said with a sob, like you had forgotten all about it. "My parents aren't going to stop bugging until I tell them when they can come visit."

Now that the attic was available, Bradley didn't mind having them in the house all that much. "Since I'm taking the next week off, why don't you tell them to come out the week after that? So you can have some help when I'm on base?"

"That's a good idea," you said as you carefully maneuvered Rose to your other breast. "We also need to give Rose a godfather." Bradley closed his eyes and pictured literally anybody but Jake. "And I was thinking Jake."

He heaved a weary sigh. "Of course you were," he grouched as Tramp finally calmed down and curled up on the floor. You looked at Bradley without saying a word, and he rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Hard. Jake was a fucking pain in the ass. He always has been, and he always will be. But... he took care of you when Josh tried to assault you while Bradley was deployed. And Jake was the one he turned to when he had a panic attack about getting himself killed before he got to meet his daughter. Jake even graciously promised he would look after you and Rosie and finish building the playset if something happened to him. And he never gave Bradley a hard time for any of it.

"Fuck. How the fuck is this my life?" Bradley groaned, sprawling out on the floor with Tramp and staring at the ceiling.

"What did I say about all the swearing, Roo?" you scolded, but when Bradley focused his gaze on your face, you were smiling. "Does that mean you're okay with Jake?"

Bradley looked at Rose and then back at you. "Yeah," he rasped while wincing.

"Perfect. We can tell him when he stops over tomorrow."

"He's coming over tomorrow?"

"Yes. With Cat and Jeremiah," you said, wiping Rose's lips with a burp cloth as Bradley sat up again.

"Let me hold my Nugget to help ease my pain and suffering."

"You're so dramatic. It's not like you'll suddenly be related to Jake," you said with a laugh, literally flaunting your tits as you stood up. "I'm going to call my parents and then take a little nap as long as you've got her?"

Bradley looked at his daughter as she curled up in his arms. "Yeah. I've got her," he promised, and you kissed him before you left the nursery. 

"We're going to take a little walk," he whispered, picking up the burp cloth that you left on the chair. Bradley carried Rose through the house, marveling once again at how tiny she was in his hands as he tried to burp her. Then he slipped out the sliding glass door to the backyard as he said, "This Jake thing wasn't my idea. You heard your mother. She's got some weird ideas sometimes, but I love her too much to tell her no. So let's set some rules. Under no circumstances are you ever allowed to think your godfather is funnier than your old man, okay?"

Rose simply yawned as Bradley sat down on one of the swings, cradling her.

"Exactly. He's a snoozefest. I totally get the yawning." He pressed his lips to her cheek. "And when you're old enough to talk, I need you to tell him that your godmother is way cooler than your godfather. If you agree, then don't say a word."

Bradley moved the swing slowly as she snuggled against him and silently closed her eyes. "That's my girl," he whispered, keeping her warm against his body in the early spring sunlight.

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

When you woke up, your body was sore, and your stomach was growling. You didn't know what time it was, but your breasts hurt enough that you thought perhaps it was time to feed Rose again. You climbed out of bed and froze as you reached for your glasses. Something smelled good. Familiar. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you whispered, "Surely not."

Rose's door was closed when you walked down the hallway, and you found your husband in the kitchen, working in front of the stove.

"You're cooking Marry Me Rooster!"

He looked up at you with a bewildered expression on his face, like a deer caught in headlights. "I am," he replied, voice hoarse. "I've been training over facetime with your mom for months, but this is my first time actually trying it."

Your heart swelled with love as you took a step closer to him and your grandmother's recipe sheet, but he held up a hand and shook his head.

"I think it's best if I give this my full attention," he said, eyes wild as he turned back to the stove. "But maybe you should have the fire extinguisher handy just in case."

You backed slowly away from him, hand covering your mouth to try to keep your laughter in. Excitement bubbled inside you knowing you'd get to eat one of your favorite dinners tonight. Bradley was pretty good at cooking now. He could pull it off. Probably.

Your daughter's cries started ramping up in her nursery, and you had a visceral reaction to it. "I'm coming," you called out, already pulling your shirt over your head as you walked inside. The fact that she even looked adorable when her face was all scrunched up in tears was concerning to you; Bradley would be unstoppable with spoiling her.

As soon as you scooped her up into your arms, she quieted down. Her weight against your body was calming as you rocked her in the chair while you fed her, and you weren't surprised at all that Tramp was sitting at your feet with his eyes glued on the baby.

"Just wait until she can walk," you told him. "The two of you will be besties, terrorizing everyone else."

You heard some loud noises in the kitchen followed by Bradley's voice. "It's fine! It's all fine!"

"I'm kind of concerned," you whispered to Rose, running your fingers along her little bit of fuzzy hair. "But Daddy learned how to cook just for you and me. We are already spoiled."

To your surprise, dinner was mostly good. The kitchen was completely trashed, and Bradley looked like he just ran a marathon, but the food was edible. It even tasted good, if not a little bit on the salty side.

"I am so impressed, Roo," you said with a smile. He was holding Rose to his chest with one hand and inhaling the pasta and chicken.

"I wanted you to have something special. It's nowhere near as good as yours though," he mumbled with a shrug around some bites. "But it's okay. I'm kind of hoping Cat will bring food with them when they stop by tomorrow. She knows how to cook like you do. Jake and I would have probably starved to death by now."

He set his fork down to run his knuckle along Rose's cheek as you started to clean up the dishes. "I thought it was wonderful," you whispered. "Nobody else ever cooked just for me before."

That made him smile. 

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

Bradley intended to write in the Nugget notebook while the events from the hospital were still fresh in his mind, but he passed out in bed as soon as you did. Rose cried three times overnight when she was hungry, and he realized he was actually quite useless when it came to that scenario. All he could really do to help was burp her. By the time he was making breakfast, you looked absolutely exhausted.

"That was kind of a rough night," he said while trying so hard not to burn the toast.

"I think that's just how nights are going to be for a while," you replied with a yawn as you carried the baby around.

Bradley spread some of the avocado concoction he whipped up onto the perfectly toasted slice of overpriced bread that you liked, and he took Rose from you so you could have a break.

"Thanks," you muttered before biting into your breakfast. "It's still so strange that you're the one cooking now."

"Oh shit," he said in delight as he kissed his daughter. "I almost forgot."

"Stop swearing!" you called as he walked outside to the garage where that fancy baby carrier thing was. 

He'd been using it to lift weights, training for this very occasion. He snatched it up and took it back in the house where he set Rose down on the couch to fasten the straps around himself. "Look at this!" he said, slipping the baby in against his chest. You were shaking your head and finishing your toast as he paraded around wearing Rose.

"You're so adorable, Roo."

"It's not me. It's the baby." He looked down at her cute face where her cheek was squished against his chest. "Can't get enough."

You wrapped your arms carefully around him, turning Rose into a sandwich as you ran your fingers through the hair along his temples. "You are such a DILF, Bradley. Gray hairs and heart eyes for your daughter."

"Stop," he groaned, turning to kiss your wrist. "Do you have any idea how hard it's going to be for me to not fuck you right now?" Someone knocked on the front door and he gave you a look. "What time did you tell Jake and Cat to stop by?"

"Tonight," you replied, heading across the living room. "It couldn't be them."

Bradley was relieved to see Maverick when you opened the door. "I'm not staying," he said as you invited him inside with bags in his hands. "I just wanted to see this little one for myself and drop some things off." He shook Bradley's hand and then just stood there with his hands on his hips, watching Rose slowly fall asleep in her carrier. "My god," he whispered, eyes shining with tears. "A brand new Bradshaw."

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked him, already reaching for the carrier. But Maverick shook his head.

"No, let her sleep. I'll come back one day with Penny and Amelia. We'll bring pizza. Just let us know which night is good." He looked up at Bradley, cuffing him on the shoulder as he said, "I wanted to be one of the first to say congratulations. Your mom and dad would have been overjoyed."

"Thanks, Mav," Bradley whispered, tears in his own eyes now. "I'm kind of obsessed with her, so I know my mom would have been as well."

Maverick shook his head, still giving Bradley's bicep a squeeze. "Your dad would have never shut up about having a granddaughter. That's a fact."

Bradley pulled his godfather in for a hug before he left with the promise to return later in the week when he was invited. Then he kissed the top of Rose's head as you rummaged around in the bags that had been left behind.

"Penny seems to have gone a bit overboard with groceries," you muttered, pulling lunch meat, bread and some chicken breasts from one of the bags. "Oh! A bottle of pink champagne!"

"Put it in the fridge," Bradley said. "I'm going to need a drink after you tell Jake he'll be the Nugget's godfather."

You rolled your eyes and dug around in a gift bag that was overflowing with tissue paper, and you gasped as you pulled out two stuffed animals. They simply looked like birds, but when Bradley took a step closer, he laughed. 

"Mav really bought Rosie a plush goose and a plush rooster."

You had a bright smile on your beautiful face as you examined them. "He's quite the joker, but these are so cute. I'm going to put them in her nursery."

"After that, you should go take a nap," Bradley said, swaying slowly from side to side with his hand resting on the back of his daughter's head while she napped. "This little girl is sound asleep, and I can do a few chores with her in the carrier."

You gave him a look that would usually mean he was getting lucky later, but that was off the table right now. When you walked past, you kissed Rose's hand and then his cheek before you said, "Make sure you chill the champagne. We can have fun later."

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

Jake, Cat and Jeremiah arrived with balloons, boxes of diapers, meals in tupperware containers, and a lot of excitement. 

"You didn't have to bring all of this," you said as Jake stacked things up inside the front door.

"Yes, they did," Bradley muttered, taking a peek in the food containers. "There's a casserole and a lasagna."

"You literally just ate dinner," you told him, handing Rose over to Cat who was practically vibrating with excitement. But Bradley wasn't listening as he followed the very inquisitive two year old boy around the living, making sure he didn't get hurt chasing Tramp.

"Why do babies smell so good?" Cat asked as Rose squirmed a bit in her arms. "So fresh and clean."

You didn't even get to respond before Jake squeezed you tight and said, "Congratulations, Angel. You mated with Bradshaw, and somehow the baby turned out cute."

"I would say something," Bradley retorted from next to the couch, "but I'm not allowed to swear in front of children."

Jake snorted. "I'm just messing around."

"Hey, I'm going to take him outside to play on the swings for a bit," Bradley said, scooping Jeremiah up before he could yank on Tramp's tail.

You gave him a pointed look and nodded toward Jake. "Don't we have something we'd like to ask him first?"

Bradley's smile turned into a bit of a frown. "No. I don't think we do."

"Bradley!" you scolded, and he tipped his head back with a groan.

"Fine. But I'm not saying it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you turned toward Jake. "Bradley and I would very much like for you to be Rose's godfather. If you're interested."

The words were barely out of your mouth before Jake had you flush against him in a bone crushing hug. "Wooo, boy. Godfather to a Bradshaw? We do live in some wild times, don't we, Rooster?"

Bradley muttered something incoherent while you asked, "Does that mean you're interested?"

He released you and turned toward Cat. "Please pass the godchild to the godfather. I'm about to make this baby an offer she can't refuse."

"She's a burrito! Not a cannoli!" Bradley called out from the sliding glass door before heading outside with Jeremiah.

"Is Phoenix her godmother?" Jake asked softly while holding Rose and supporting her head.

"Yes," you replied, in awe over how careful he was being.

"You realize that spells complete disaster, right?"

"Sure," you agreed. But you'd never seen anyone hold someone else's baby with quite as much respect as Nat and Jake held Rose.

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

Bradley played with Rose on the couch with an episode of Real Housewives of New Jersey on in the background. "You see what happens when you marry for money?" he asked his daughter as she wrapped her fingers around his pinky. "Sure, you get a Lamborghini out of the deal, but you also get arrested for tax fraud and embezzlement." He kissed her forehead. "Don't do that, okay?"

She cooed softly, and he took that as a sound of agreement.

"I'm ready."

Bradley glanced up to see you fresh out of the shower wearing the robe that Nat gave you. "I'll bring her right in," he replied.

"Grab the champagne, too."

He did exactly as he was told and handed the baby to you where you sat in the glider chair in the nursery before he carefully opened the bottle. The sound startled Rose, and she started crying hysterically. Bradley was on his knees in front of the chair instantly, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Nugget. That was way too loud."

"I think she's getting hangry, too," you mused, loosening the sash of your robe so you could feed her. And once again, Bradley was just captivated by all of it and so in love. He took a long sip of the pink champagne before offering you the bottle. "I can only have a little bit."

"I know Sweetheart, but it's your favorite." You had milk beading on your nipple while you fed Rose, and Bradley watched you lick your lips before handing the bottle back to him. He groaned softly, dizzy from all of it. 

"This is so fascinating," he whispered, taking another sip before setting the bottle down. When he reached out to touch your breast, you let him. You felt warm and heavy, and he took your milk onto his thumb and licked it clean.

"You know..." you whispered, switching Rose to your other side. "After having alcohol, it's probably a good idea to pump some of my milk to make sure she doesn't get any of it."

Bradley sat up a little straighter, willing to get you anything you needed. "Want me to set up the pump?"

"Nah," you replied, shaking your head. "I haven't gotten the hang of it yet, but I'm sure there's another way you can help me." Your graceful fingers stroked Rose's cheek as the milk drunk baby started slowing down. "When she's finished, it's your turn."

Bradley jumped to his feet as soon as Rose started to drift to sleep. "I'll get cleaned up and meet you in bed," you whispered as he took the baby from your arms. He deftly changed her diaper and got her zipped back into her sleeper before setting her in her crib.

"How about you sleep more tonight?" he asked. "Give me a chance to play with Mommy before she's too tired? I like her tits, too."

He could hear you laughing down the hallway. "I can hear you through the baby monitor!" you called out, but Bradley had no shame. He kissed his daughter one last time before turning on the night light and the ceiling fan, and then he was on his way to you.

When he stood in the doorway, you were sitting in bed with your robe open. Soft light from your lamp was making every curve of your body look irresistible to him, and now that he had you alone, he knew he was going to struggle.

He made a desperate sound as he ran his hand over his face. "Baby Girl," he whined. "I want you so bad."

"Come here," you coaxed, rubbing the spot on the bed next to you. He was there in an instant, sitting with his back against the headboard as you crawled into his lap. As soon as you nudged his shorts with your knee, he swallowed hard, saliva pooling on his tongue at the sight of your milk dripping from you and onto his shirt.

"Oh, shit," he whispered, letting you get yourself comfortable before he wrapped his arms around you. "It's my turn?"

You ran your fingers along his scarred cheek and back through his hair. "Your turn," you whispered, lips ghosting against his as he throbbed for you.

Bradley took your breasts gently in his hands, ran his thumbs along your nipples and rubbed his nose between your tits. Then he let himself taste you to his heart's content.

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

Roo is living his very best life, other than potentially seeing Jake more frequently. Hopefully Nat will balance that out for him. Grandparents are coming to visit soon! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

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[madelynraemunson]

i need to know if we ever get jealous of eddie’s said short lived relationships. do we ever try to sabotage them? or are we the type to try and get along with them and thats when they’re like “oh no you two need to be together?”

(i know the answer in my heart but i want to hear what you think lol)

ex husband!eddie x reader

whaaat? sabotage eddie's relationships? 😵 that's diabolical. why on earth would we do that?

that one time we showed up to his house wearing a sundress after months of wearing sweats was TOTALLY unplanned! we had a date, after all.

and that one time we were dancing with eddie at the family bbq, rocking out to all our favorite songs like careless teenagers right in front of girlfriend #3 was all a ploy by our kiddos! right, kids? right? we do everything for the kids. they love seeing their parents happy and getting along. right, kids?

and are you really still on about the day of eli's talent show?? 🤦🏻‍♀️ we only asked girlfriend #9 to take a family photo of us because she was the only one that was around. that's all 😇 and she shouldn't be mad at us! eli LOVES taking pics with mommy and daddy. who is she to get in the way of a family, especially when kids are involved 🤨😤 (also, we didn't MAKE eddie place his hand where he did in the pictures. he literally did it by himself, on his own terms.)💋

...okay, bunnie you got me! we know damn well what we're doing 😅 but quite frankly, so does eddie.

you've got a date with david tonight. in fact, eddie knows was nice enough to house sit for you and help the kids with homework. an innocent, sweet little gesture. right?

you and david are watching a movie on his couch and things are getting steamy really fast. david is about to kiss you when...

RING! RING!

you pull away immediately. checking your phone to see who it is, you realize,

"it's my ex husband, that fucker. the house better be burning down." you go to answer it. "yes?"

“hey, sweetheart, this is eddie...the banished." he greets you. “i can't seem to find the measuring tape and was wondering if you knew where it was."

you're unsure as to why he would even need measuring tape. regardless, you reply,

"it's in with drawer of miscellaneous stuff. the one by the kitchen sink.”

"ahh, that's right. found it. thanks, babe."

but that's not the only useless call of the night. as your date with david continues, the calls keep coming through in seemingly calculated intervals. at the worst possible times. with the most irrelevant fucking questions.

“i can't find the baking soda." “where do you keep the batteries? the c batteries not the double As." "hey, just a heads up, you might wanna call somebody for this pipe." "what's the wifi password again?"

"EMUNSON1986!" you hiss. "the year you graduated high school."

"aww, really?" eddie coos. "that's endearing. thanks baby."

eventually after an hour, the calls stop. you and david were able to finish the movie, and get back to that steamy interaction before you were spammed mercilessly. david is now fiddling with your straps as you two are kissing, his available hand grazing your lower back, breath hitching when —

RING! RING!

"jesus h CHRIST!" you howl. "it's midnight for god's sake. this better be important. HELLO?”

"sorry," eddie mumbles on the other line. "remind me, i'm looking at your snake plant and was wondering how often these guys need watering? they look a little parched."

"once a day and i already did it," you say through gritted teeth.

"it's a new day, should they be watered again?"

"don't worry about it, eds."

"i always worry, sweetheart.”

david happens to hear this. giving you a side eye now, your date watches as you stay on the line with eddie for a couple of minutes. finally, you get eddie to agree to stop calling, which fills you with relief when you hang up the phone. your eyes then travel back to david, whom you begin to bat your flirty lashes at.

"now." you say. "where were we?"

"you should probably go home," david huffs. "looks like the fort still needs holding down."

you're seeing absolute red now. you are seething. that motherfucker.

your drive home is an angry, and sexually frustrated one. you can't believe eddie would sabotage your date like this, your only fun night out this week. he's in for it now.

"date ended early sweetheart?" eddie pouts at you the moment you walk into your house.

"bedroom," you order. "now."

tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe! as always thank you for reading 💋

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths @let-the-music-take-c0ntrol @meetmeatyourworst @b-irock @spencerssatchel

divider by: @cafekitsune

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

MIRROR

a/n: I had no idea if posting this was a good idea or not, but it's better to let it out than to leave it forgotten in the drafts. I hope you like it… I’ll leave this here, and I’ll retreat slowly…

jude bellingham x exgf!reader (trent alexander-arnold´s sister)

warnings: +18 content, p in v, protected sex, dom!Jude, dirty talk… kinda angsty, english is not my first language.

summary: Stuck at your brother's party, you struggle to get over Jude, your ex, who brings back old feelings every time you look at him. Despite your attempts to flirt with other guys, Trent and Jude always end up shooing them away, and your anger only grows. When Jude's gaze meets yours, the tension becomes electric. Before you know it, you both find yourself in the bathroom, where your chemistry ignites in a heated encounter that ignores all the rules you once swore you wouldn't break.

The music thumped through the walls of Trent’s house, vibrating through your chest as you hovered at the edge of the crowded living room. You hated these kinds of parties—too many people, too much noise—but it was Trent’s place, and everyone had shown up. Jude had shown up.

Of course he had.

It was one of your brother’s bests mates. He was laughing with a group of people just across the room, so close, yet worlds away.

You hated that seeing him still twisted your heart, hated that he looked so good, so unbothered, like you hadn’t been wrecked when he walked away from you months ago. He had told you that the distance was going to hurt you, but the one who ended up hurting you was him. You two hadn’t spoken since. Not properly, anyway. But you’d been here before—sharing space, always with Trent in between, always keeping it civil for the sake of everyone.

You tipped your glass back, willing the alcohol to dull the sharp edge of your emotions. Your eyes drifted toward the guy you’d been talking to earlier. Nothing serious. Just a distraction. He was cute, and more importantly, available. A brief smile played on your lips, and you moved to join him in the living room, leaving the bitter knot of emotion behind. For a moment, you let yourself enjoy the game of flirtation, the feeling of reclaiming control.

But you felt it before you saw him. Jude, his presence like a gravitational pull. As soon as the guy got too close, a hand on your arm, you saw him. Jude, out of the corner of your eye—his jaw tight, gaze burning.

"Oi, mate," Jude said, his voice low but firm as he stepped in, placing himself between you and the guy you wanted to shag, blocking him with a casual but unmistakable tension in his posture. "I think you're done here."

Your heart skipped a beat, anger flaring hot. Before you could protest, Trent appeared, a protective shadow beside Jude. Not again, please. Of course, Trent. Always watching, always hovering. You loved him a lot, but right now, you hated his guts. Hated that they were both treating you like something fragile, like you couldn’t make your own choices.

The worst thing was, it was the third time that night.

The guy glanced at Trent, then Jude, clearly uncomfortable. He wasn´t even looking at you anymore. "I didn’t mean any harm, man—"

"Yeah, you did. That´s my little sister" Trent cut in, his voice cold. "You're leaving now."

With one last quick glance at you, the guy mumbled something; probably an apology, and slinked off into the crowd. You stood there, furious, fists clenched at your sides. "What the hell, Jude? Trent?"

Jude’s eyes met yours, the weight of everything unsaid passing between you both. "Y/N, come on, don´t do this," he said quietly, almost too soft to hear over the loud music.

"Do what?" you snapped, taking a step closer. Your chest was tight, your words sharp. "Move on? Because I can’t just stand around waiting for you to stop playing games. You left me, Jude. Remember?"

His gaze dropped, pain flickering behind his eyes, and probably embarrasment due to your brother being there, jjjbut before he could say anything, Trent stepped in. “He’s right, you don’t need a guy,” he said, his voice more gentle than you expected. “You don´t know anything about him. I don't even know where he came from.”

You let out a frustrated breath, your mind reeling from the double wall of protection. You didn’t know whether to scream or cry. Jude stood there, silent, but you saw the tension in his shoulders, the conflict in his expression.

Without another word, you turned on your heel, pushing through the crowd, your skin burning with anger and unspoken feelings. The party roared on, oblivious to the storm that had just passed. Trent and Jude watched you go, and you didn’t have to look back to know they wouldn’t follow.

The rest of the party goes by relatively smoothly. Jude can feel you glaring at him the whole time, practically boring holes into his forehead with your flaming eyes. He winces when the song finishes and he watches you slide through the crowd, storming from the living room.

He shouldn't go to you. He knows he shouldn't. But he does anyway, standing up, avoiding Trent’s attention and hurrying after you. You see him coming so you pick up your pace, thumping up the stairs.

Jude follows faster, only a few steps behind you. You hesitate on the first landing, unsure which room will keep you safest from him.

Then you see the bathroom down the hall and make a break for it, rushing to get to safety with Jude hot on your heels driving you faster and faster.

You slip into the bathroom and go to slam the door shut, but a familiar hand grabs the wood and stops it. You let out an indignant squawk as he barges into the bathroom and shuts the door.

"Get out, Bellingham."

"No," He says firmly, staring down at you irritably. He can't help it, he has to explain himself.

"You know I'm right. That dude was not-

"Fuck off," you interrupt him, your voice raw with anger. "I was so calm talking to him until you both came over like a pair of lunatics."

Jude snaps, replying angrily, "Yes, because throwing yourself desperately at him is calmly talking. He was the third man in the night… "

"And yet, this was the third time that the two of you had no right to interfere. Especially you."

You’re so flippant, so nonchalant about the fact that you could've just been used or hurt by a random guy. Broken. Maybe, without your brother and his constant attention on you during the night, you could’ve committed a mistake. But none of that mattered now, your anger was bigger than your rational thoughts.

Jude clenches his fists, only growing angrier when you say flatly:

"Ben and I should be in my room right now. What a bunch of cockblockers...”

Was it really his name Ben? You couldn’t remember properly.

"I bet Trent would love to hear that from her little sister. Sometimes you forget that not everybody has good intentions.”

His heart sinks when he recognizes a ruthless glint in your eye, your lips quirking when you replie, "He seemed pretty nice. It was the third guy in this party that left scared. Shouldn’t you just give me a list of the ones that you and Trent consider appropriate for me?”

None. He wants to say.

Jude sees red, his hands flying to his hair and tugging in frustration. He turns his back on you, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I can’t stand to see it. You know that. You do it in front of my eyes.”

"You have no right to be hovering around me scaring the guys that approach me, Jude.”

That's it. What you’ve been waiting all night to happen. At a moment you thought that you weren’t going to see it, but finally, Jude explodes, whirling around and smacking his hand down on the porcelain sink.

This makes you yelp as he yells, "Yes I do! I do have a right. Because I miss you, dammit!"

You stared at him, your lips parted in obvious shock. Your lips. Jude feels his gaze drawn to them like a magnet.

And then you’re both moving, crashing together before either can stop it.

Jude let's out a groan at the contact, his hands grabbing at your hips. Finally. Your breathing hitches when he bites down on your lower lip harshly. He's still mad, still fucking furious with you. You can tell from the way he's kissing you, hot and so needy it makes your knees shake.

You moan when his tongue eagerly slips into your mouth, rediscovering and reclaiming. There's no fighting for dominance—Jude has it already. You surrender to his control, opening up for it greedily. You want this, you need this.

Your hands fly to his shirt tugging and pulling at it until he finally gets the message and pulls away long enough to shrug the shirt off over his head. You grow dizzy at the sight of his muscular torso, your tongue flicking out to wet your swollen lips. It was obvious he'd been training extra hard. What wasn't obvious was the hours Jude spent working out to avoid thinking of you.

He growls low in the back of his throat at the sight of your pupils blown wide. He pulls you back to him, returning his wanting lips to yours. Your hands shake as they slide up over his shoulder blades and the back of his neck.

Jude smirks at the action, giving him plenty of time to slide his lips over his jaw and down to the hollow of your throat. He groans at the feel of you, the taste of your skin. You smell like lavender and the alcohol you´d been drinking. He wants to drown in it. Drown in you.

You gasp when his teeth tug at your skin. He bites and sucks and licks until there is a growing red mark on the side of your throat. Trent is going to kill you both. Your head lolls to the opposite side, weak to his sinful ministrations. Eager for more. Jude licks a stripe from your jaw to the skin under your ear. He pauses when something bumps his nose.

Earrings. The earrings. You still wore them. You still wore the ones that he gifted you.

His heart nearly explodes because maybe this meant it wasn't over, maybe he could undo the things that had been done. His hands fly back into action, untucking your blue t from your jeans and pulling back enough to tug it up over your head.

He lets out a curse when he realizes this whole time you hadn't been wearing a bra. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, waiting before doing anything. Maybe this is a mistake.

You must notice his hesitation, because your cool palms suddenly cup his face and bring his lips back to yours. It's your turn to bite his lip, your teeth playfully nipping at the soft swollen curve of his lower one. The kiss is still angry, hot, and so delicious it makes your toes curl.

No, this was definitely not a mistake.

Jude shakes his head when you try to drop to your knees. He knows what you think he wants. But you’re wrong.

"Turn around," He mumbles huskily, his erection painful in his jeans. He had to have you, he needed to have you.

"No," you scoff, trying to return your lips to his.

"I said turn around," he growls, not missing the way your thighs clench together and your eyes flash. You narrow your eyes but do as you’re told, yelping when Jude pins you front to the sink. Your eyes find yourself in the mirror and you’re taken aback by how needy you look, wanton and hungry. For him. You was always hungry for him.

Jude’s thoughts are disrupted when your ass arches into his cock, making him curse under his breath.

"Fuck, Y/N.”

You smile wickedly at him in the mirror, Jude growing cross at the action. He was in control. He needed to because you’d been slipping through his fingers like sand ever since he went to play to Madrid.

You see the change in him, his eyes darkening sinfully. You gasp and grip the sink tightly when he thrusts against you, your legs shaking from the spark of pleasure.

You were embarrassed, your cheeks turning red when you watch in the mirror as a moan flew from your lips. You try to turn around, but his hands keep you pinned there.

You moan again when you feel his fingers at your front, deftly unbuttoning your pants before slipping his hand inside.

Jude leans his forehead against your back, momentarily breathless from the feeling of your fingers dipping into your slick heat.

"Ju- Jude," you whisper, your eyes fluttering shut as he slowly thrusts one finger in and out of you. It's not enough, not when you knows his cock is just out of reach and can fill you the way you want—need to be.

His hand moves from you core, leaving you feeling empty and on fire with need.

Jude mutters huskily, "Open your eyes. I want you to watch. I want you to see what only I can do to you."

Goosebumps erupt across your skin at his words, your mouth running dry when your pants and panties join the pile of clothes on the floor. Your eyes flicker open, because while you want to tell him to piss off, that he isn't in charge of you any more….you want to see it too.

“You still on the-?” He asks, his hot breath tickling your skin.

“Yes,” you interrupt him immediately.

His belt buckle clinks when he tosses it to the floor. You watch with wide open eyes as he shoves his jeans down just enough to pull his pulsing member out. You run your tongue along your lower lip, your eyes stuck on the spot of the mirror where you can see Jude languidly stroking himself. You want to do it. You go to turn, desperate to hold him in her hand, but Jude reaches up and firmly holds you in place, saying rudely, "Don't."

Your head falls foreword with a gasp when you feel the tip of him teasing your entrance, just barely sliding in before retreating. It was torture. You try desperately to arch back into him, groaning when Jude tuts and stills your hips with his hand.

"Look," He says firmly. You raise your head and stare at Jude in the mirror, your lustfilled gazes locked onto each other as he slowly thrusts into you. Jude swears at the feeling of being inside of you again, moans loudly when you clench around him.

His hand comes around to cup your throat, keeping your head exactly in front of the mirror as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in. Your knuckles turn white from your grip on the sink, unable to stop the uninhibited moan that tears from your throat. He was filling you so deliciously, so completely in this position. He's slow, but hard and rough in his movements. You cry out when he brushes against that explosive spot within you that has your back arching and your hands scrambling for something better to hold onto.

The contrast of his warm body against your back and the cold sink pressing into you front leaves you breathless.

"Please, Jude," you moan, your head slumping back to rest on his shoulder with your eyes closed. He connects your lips for a harsh, soul shattering kiss. He moans into your open mouth when you circle your hips back on his, trying to get more. The hand that was caressing your throat covers your own that you have pressed against the mirror, his fingers interlocking with yours as he complies with your wishes. He knows what you need.

He thrusts into you faster, harder, the hand not holding yours coming down to grab your hip. You can't make sense of the sounds coming from your own mouth because it's just so good. It's so good with Jude. Because it's the only time you willingly give someone control over your heart, your body.

That familiar warm sensation coils in your lower belly, growing bigger and more warm with each thrust.

"Jude, I-I..." You trail off with a groan, your hips bucking back into his wildly as you approach the peak of arousal, Jude growling huskily in your ear.

"Look, Y/N. Look in the mirror."

It takes all of your strength to open your eyes and lean your head forward, your gaze first finding where your and his hand are locked together, pressed up against the mirror.

Then you find yourself, again shocked by the arousal in your eyes and the poutyness of your swollen lips. You glance up at Jude in the reflection, nearly moaning at how sinful he looks. He commands the energy in the room, his jaw clenched tight as he too fights back his climax. You watch you both now, desperate for this to not end. It was too good.

When his fingers glide across your stomach and dip down to circle your clit your vision goes white, your mouth falling open as a voiceless cry tries to leave you. Jude swears, watching in the mirror as your eyes roll back and your throat bobs and you climax around him, your clenching walls finishing him off and making him groan loudly against your shoulder.

He slumps against you, his arm holding you up as your legs shake against his. He presses a few sloppy kisses to the skin of your back, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to regain his breath.

That is when you realize, what have you done. How you have fallen again in this loop. Or how you’d let yourself be touched by the man that left you not so long ago shattered.

"Y/N," He whispers hoarsely, taking in your pink cheeks and cloudy gaze. Lust turns to fear as you quickly separate your hands and bodies, scrambling to pull on your clothes.

Jude feels fear tighten in his chest too, because you’re pulling away faster than he can reel you in.

"Y/N, wait-

The bathroom door slams shut as you flee, barely dressed before disappearing. Your entire body is hot as you can still feel his touch and shame washes over you. You run to one of the bedrooms, hoping Trent doesn’t find you. But most of all, hoping Jude will get out of your mind once and for all.

[fanaticsnail]

Chastity: Buggy

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 1,500+

Themes: Buggy x gn!reader, smut, mdni, 18+, NSFW, Buggy is in a chastity belt, you are tasked to dominate him, inappropriate use of devil fruit, creampie (Buggy receiving and giving), masturbation, bondage.

Notes: This clown has once again found his way back into my heart. I love him.

“Please.”

Sitting cross legged, reading over several new bounties produced and notated by Sir Crocodile in your plush, buttoned armchair, you pay the man on his knees no mind as he comes to terms with the circumstances that lead him to that moment.

Knees spread and thighs bound to his ankles beneath him, hands obediently lulled at his hips, neck tilted back and eyes watering with desperation, sat Buggy the Clown. The Face of Cross-Guild, chest heaving as his crotch was clapped in an iron belt and nothing else covering his body, was resolved into a heaving pile of flesh as his own cock buried itself into his puckered asshole.

He had not moved an inch since you first started this small amount of torture for him. Behaving as well as he could as you removed his cock and bound his legs, you had worked him with your fingers and lubricant while he was brought to the precipice of release without toppling over the edge.

Buggy was put through too much pain and markings at the hands of your boss, Dracule Mihawk, and his associate, Sir Crocodile. Being the face of an organization: beaten, battered and bruised was not in the best interest of the three of them when garnering popularity.

Under the guise that matters would be taken into your own hands regarding punishment and discipline, Mihawk placed the blue-haired clown in your charge to break him into submission.

This task was easier done than you had thought. A few choice words, simple heavy kisses, and the promise of a well-earned orgasm was enough to have the Clown immediately at your mercy.

“Not yet. I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait until I'm done with this page,” you utter honestly, taking your red, felt-tip pen to the parchment and slashing out an incorrect word. “If you didn't make so many mistakes, you could've been cumming inside yourself by now. But, fortunately for my own entertainment, you did.”

“Please,” he stuttered, tensing his bare abdomen as his blue-fuzz covered pectorals spasmed while he made to move forward. “Please, starlight. My cock has been shoved in my ass for over an hour. It's so fuckin-... Nghhmm-... It's warm, its tense, it's tight. Please let me cum?”

“No.”

“For fucks sake,” he whimpered, scrunching his paint-lined eyes shut while he attempted to rock his hips to no avail.

With the ropes binding his legs, and the iron belt holding his cock inside his ass, he had no way for friction to occur to bring him over that edge of ecstasy. He whimpered, his nipples pebbled and skin christened in beaded goose-flesh as he huffed and panted at the feeling.

“Calm yourself,” you uttered sharply down at him, pressing your covered toes on his bare chest while you scowled at him. “Honestly, have you no self control, clown?”

Buggy darted his teal eyes between yours, his bruises finally beginning to heal up and scars crust over from the beating days before that had this dynamic begin between you. Rolling your eyes, you remove your foot from his chest and peer once more down at the page.

“Please, Starlight,” he whimpered softly, “How much longer will you be? I-I-I need you. I need this. I nee-... I need-...”

Buffy's eyes took in every inch of you. Your toes, your ankles, your thighs, your crotch, your stomach, chest, arms, hands, face and head: all of those elements that made you distinctly you, Buggy was consumed by.

He didn't expect Mihawk’s former World Government Public Relations officer to stick with him after the disbandment of the warlords, yet here you were: slashing away at another wanted sign while he felt his need becoming almost painful. Nowhere near as painful as the beatings, but an ache enough to have him uncomfortable.

All Buggy wanted was to cum. Far from the initial embarrassment that came along with being naked with his own cock in his ass, he was feral for that one moment where you would release him from his chains and be permitted to ride his cock for your entertainment.

Finally complete with the pile of wanted posters, you placed the tan sheets at your side and tilted your head at the clown. His lengthy, blue eyelashes fluttered, his cerulean hair messy and clinging to his face and neck in bunches. His eyes were glazed, as was the shine from his rotund, red nose.

“Clown?” you spoke, breaking him out of his concentration and causing his ass to clench around himself. He groaned at the feeling, the edge still there after all this time.

“Y-Yes?” He stuttered. “Yes, Starlight?” Rapidly blinking, he focussed his attention onto you while attempting to remain perfectly still.

“I'm done with my work,” you nodded, uncurling your knees and switching your top-leg in front of him. Leaning down, you offer him the key to his belt in his hand, to which he shakily took it in his covered digits. “Be a good boy and put on a show for me?”

“Oh, fuck yes,” he uttered softly, his hands stumbling as he unclasped his chastity belt and watched as the iron slunk to the ground with a clang.

His thighs and ankles were still bound together, but his cock was now free to move with his Devil-Fruit powers. He wasted no time as the lubricant made sinking in and out of his puckered hole easier.

Each time his cock fucked itself in, his mushroomed tip hit his prostate and caused a small leak of precum to dribble from his slit. His tongue caught itself on the roof of his mouth while his shaft was squeezed by the tense of muscle around his skin.

“There you go,” you praised him with a soft click of your tongue. “Good boy, clown. I can see how close you're making yourself.”

“Uh huh,” Buggy uttered dumbly, his whole mind now focussed wholeheartedly on the show he was producing for you. He was a mess of moans, groans, mewls and whimpers as he desperately clawed his way to his release.

Soon enough, the clown began to bounce himself on his cock, eyes scrunched shut while he experienced everything all at once. Cock, ass, restriction, and filthy encouragement from your lips was more than enough to feel the call of his climax beckoning him into his oblivion.

“You gonna be a good boy and cum in that tight little hole of yours?” you purred at him, leaning forward and tapping his chin with your index finger, “Gonna cum on your own cock?”

Buffy's eyes fluttered open, peering down his nose at your lips and eyes as he rose and fell on his cock while fucking into himself from beneath him. The slickened ‘plaps’ grew more manic as he desperately found his high, eyes searching yours for that final wave of permission from you to topple him over.

“Show me, clown,” you taunt him, moving your lips to hover over his own, “Move those hands up and tease your nipples before I do. Grab onto them and cum all over and into yourself. Go on, clown. Show me how good you can be-.”

“-Ah, fuck-!” Buggy screamed, his voice cracking as he shot that first rope into his asshole. His cock slapped his prostate, the muscle causing his ecstasy to amplify as he felt his own ass milk himself of his release.

Reaching up, he clutched and clawed at his nipples while rocking up and down over his own cock in time of his released. Pawing at his pectorals, his face flushed a vibrant red while he cried out in euphoria.

Pearlescent ribbons fled his cock as his vision split white. He didn't know if he called your name, screamed out profanity, or simply shouted incohesive babbles while he painted his insides with his own cum. All he knew was he had never felt this pent up, this needy, and this good in some time.

Chest heaving, absent crotch shrouded in cerulean curls tensing, Buggy felt himself nearly pass out while he rode the tide his orgasm managed to swell inside himself. Before he could find himself falling onto the floor in a pile of bliss, you surged forward and caught his shoulders.

Immediately, your hands flung into action to unbind him of his ropes and fish out his own cock from being buried in his ass. You were not unaffected by his little display, but you forced your arousal back while tending to the aftercare needed by the face of Cross-Guild.

As you softly coax him back to the land of the living by wiping him down with pre-prepared towels and washcloths, Buggy peered at you with an unhinged glint in his eye. Unbeknownst to you, his hand popped from his wrist-link and slowly crept along the floor towards your thighs and crotch.

If you were going to have him beg and plead for release, without him able to do anything about it until you granted him permission, it was only fair he was to do the same to you.

And just as you finally met his gaze once again with your own, his digits disappeared down the front of your waistband and caused your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Your turn, Starlight,” he uttered sinisterly, his smirk ticking up in the corners of his lips and illuminating his face with mischief, “Now be good and put on a show for me.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel

“Buggy-!”

🎶Happy Birthday to Me🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

[pennyblossom-meta]

If L ever had a lover/soulmate and was discovered by Light, what countermeasures might L do?

Thank you for the question, dear anon!

This one's a really interesting one and I had to do some research in order to give you a well rounded response based on canon (mostly the manga, but also with a dash of extended DN lore). I'll add my own conclusions on the specific lover/soulmate case as we go.

I'll preface this analysis by saying that, if we take Spiraling Trap into account, then L's lover would be of extreme importance to them, if not the most important person in L's life — perhaps even above Watari. One of his sweetest quotes from the dating sim actually alludes to this state of mind:

For your sake… I’d think of a way to get through anything. We share a bond.

If L had a lover, he would very much be smitten. Despite all his flaws, his sometimes complicated, hyper-focused behaviour, he would dearly cherish this bond and do everything to keep it.

It's important that we look at L's thought process here as the opposite of what he did with Kira. While L gradually de-anonymizes Light before the world, he would progressively anonymize his lover so as to keep them safe. It might not be to the degree that he made himself to be a ghost, a letter on a screen, but it would be a pretty thorough process to minimise any fallout.

Now, L would take his lover's safety as a constant, high priority task. I imagine he'd be paranoid to the point that he would often run hypothetical scenarios where he'd assume the role of a criminal and try to find information about his lover.

These would range from medical records to high school grades, primary school pictures, etc. He would know exactly what kind of data about his lover was available to the public — and where to find it, in digital or physical form. Do they have family? Pets? Friends that could be tracked or paid to talk? He'd be on top of all this and investigate it through the several angles of cryptography and computer security.

When the Kira case starts gaining prominence, I imagine he would take the utmost care to delete all sensitive information pertaining to his lover from public records, though he might keep actual medical records safely encrypted somewhere only he could access. As for records stored at, say, school, in physical form — like a CD — he would likely have Watari steal them so they could be destroyed. I don't believe he would ask anyone other than Watari for this task, as that could raise unwelcome questions from a third party.

L's greatest fear would be that Kira might kill his lover. Given how secretive he is, perhaps the only way that Light might gain access to such information would be if L allowed his lover to accompany him during the case. Just like L protects Watari, Aiber and Wedy's identity, he would likely never introduce his lover as his actual lover; rather, he would make up a fake name for them and a role. I also imagine he would struggle with the decision of bringing them along and might've acquiesced because a) he wants them nearby or b) they've left him no choice because they want to keep L safe (and be supportive in whatever way they can, depending on their background and profession).

So, in this scenario (manga, again), Light would need to meet L's lover sometime between the months April-November 2004 and figure out who they really are. It would almost give L a heart attack (pun intended); he would blame himself for his recklessness, backtrack every move, run scenarios to make sure Light couldn't find anything to kill them. After Rem appears, L would absolutely forbid them from being near Misa.

Beyond this, there isn't much that L could do at this point. Short of bringing Kira to justice, the most he can do is prevent his lover's personal information from being handed to Light on a silver platter. He may remove his lover from the case entirely if they were discovered, though. But he would definitely plot to cut any loose ends that'd bring Light straight to their lover's private sphere.

There's also a chance that Light would kidnap L's lover and torture them for information, but it's highly unlikely.

However, I'd like to ask the following question: what does L do to protect himself and those closest to him in canon?

01: There are no photos or images of L anywhere, especially at To-Ho

From: Chapter 28 - Judgment

One of the things that immediately jumps to attention is how secretive (and well prepared) L is under any scenario. During this particular moment in the main story, we witness L's caution when it comes to allowing others to keep any photos or video records related to him, going as far as instructing the Task Force to destroy all photos of themselves. In essence, he wants them to erase any and all images that can lead to the Second Kira identifying them to avoid their murders. Their digital footprint or social media (what was even Japan's version of MySpace in 2004?) should be gone as a security measure.

We also discover that L goes to the trouble of deactivating the security cameras at the hotels he's at so they don't capture his image. It's a huge stretch, but a necessary evil when you're L, the world's greatest detective, always one step away from being killed by criminals.

What about L's love interest/soulmate?

As mentioned before, L would make sure that his lover's information would be hidden or removed from public access. This would give him a head start to protect them from Light (and Misa), as the only way they'd be able to get the lover's name would be through the Shinigami Eyes or by parting with the information voluntarily (like Naomi Misora did).

Like L, they would also not have their image recorded when moving around hotels. I can imagine that they would also leave through the hotel garage or back door in order to avoid bumping into undesirable individuals.

02: Watari, Aiber and Wedy are anonymized — until L's death (and Watari's)

From: Chapter 59 - Zero

Arguably, one of L's biggest mistakes towards Aiber and Wedy was leaving their personal information available for the Task Force in case he died. I assume that the "All data deletion" protocol was solely regarding the case itself, and that there were branches of information that Light acquired after L's death which were not meant to be seen aside from himself.

There might've been other criminals whom associated with L that Light killed. My educated guess is that L would've been more careful with his lover's personal information and had it deleted along with crucial data about the case. In case he died and they lived, he would've taken that precaution. Both Near and Mello also have no photographs of themselves available at Wammy's (or in any record).

03: And as a small bonus of L caring about his associates...

From: Chapter 43 - Black

Utilitarian L may be, but he's not a robot devoid of feelings. He does care about his associates and seems to be on good terms with Aiber. With how careful he is those who work for him, I'm positive he would climb mountains to keep his lover safe from harm — especially if danger came in the shape of Light.

Hope this answered your question somewhat!

[izzabela]

Hi there! 👋 I hope you are doing well! Can you please write about Smoke getting jealous because Takeda keep hanging around the female reader that Smoke harbors romantic feelings for a long time and Takeda knows and he is purposely grinding Smoke's gears to get him to snap? (P.S Takeda and Kuai Liang teamed up and came up with the plan) 😜

Games - Tomas x fem!reader

in which a certain ninja is playing games with another ninja

a/n: "they call us the kombat kids" is my favorite intro line from that silly ninja

ship[s]: tomas vrbada x fem!reader

warning(s): post-story

Tomas glares at a certain yellow-black ninja that hovered around you like a mosquito. Except your blood wasn't being sucked by it.

Tomas stood across you and Takeda, opposite ends of a sparring circle as you three were monitoring Hanzo's progress. He didn't care, though, not when Takeda was grinning like an idiot as he slung his arm around your shoulder.

Tomas grumbles, feet practically digging into the ground as smoke fizzles around his body.

Tomas had a blazing crush on you, you see. A friend of Harumi, you were training under her clan to sharpen your skills, and that's where his crush began to flourish into love.

He couldn't say anything though. It was too risky with the life he lives, the life you live. It wasn't that you were a distraction (hell no, he loved your "distraction", it was a break from this war he was fighting).

So, until this job was done, he'd have you by his side as a friend and warrior. Nothing more. However, it was quite clear to everyone in the compound that he was pining after you.

You two would be seen at the hip, walking together, eating together, sparring too. He treated your wounds when no one was available, and you did the same. He ran errands for you, took over missions for you.

It was so obvious. Now though, it might be ruined.

Takeda joined the clan for a bit because of Kenshi. Takeda needed a place to master his anger, frustration, especially with his own trauma from the Yakuza. After some a couple of weeks, though, he integrated well with the clan.

A little too well for Tomas's sake.

Takeda began to hang around you and Tomas. More-so you than him. He inserted himself between you two, and Tomas was not pleased that his best friend slash crush was being taken away.

But who was he to control you and who you made friends with? That would be rude, and controlling, and he wanted you to be happy first and foremost.

His patience was running thin though.

Takeda first began by hanging around you two. It was friendly, getting to know you with simple and cordial conversation. It then turned into Takeda having you to himself when you were alone.

You two were having lunches together, sparring, even spending time with Hanzo when he had his breaks. Tomas swears he couldn't find you when Takeda wasn't on missions.

The final stage of Takeda's competition against Tomas was his... "hands-on" approach with you. Takeda, despite his pain and trauma caused by the senselessness of the Yakuza, remained touchy with close friends and allies. Except you, though.

He loved to hug you, squeeze your sides and tickle them. He loved to ruffle your hair, pat your head, and noogie it too.

When you guys were alone together, he'd sling his arm around your should and hug you close (like he was now). He'd skillfully play into his good looks, winking and leaning down to hear you better (girls like that? he had thought).

It annoyed Tomas to no end. He could not get you by yourself without that idiot around you. He did not want to think ill of him, but with the stunts he was pulling was pushing him further and further to the edge.

Just like he was now.

Back in the present, Tomas glared at you and Takeda, trying to zone in on the conversation you two were having. He couldn't really focus, though, when you were laughing, teeth out as you smiled at a joke(?). Takeda chuckles as well, and his arm slinks down from your shoulders to your waist.

His gloved arm rests on the small of your back, and Tomas can see you shiver at the sensitive touch. Tomas breathes in deep controlling the rage that bubbles in his veins.

"Tomas, Tomas!" Hanzo calls out, tugging on his uniform. "Did you see that?!" he exclaims as pops jabs into the air.

Takeda chuckles, coming over to the both of them with a friendly smile. You follow behind him, and your arms are wide open as Hanzo comes running to you in a hug.

"You did so great Hanzo!" you gush. "My, I believe we have our first full initiate!" You noogie his hair, and he giggles.

Suddenly, and without warning, Hanzo sneaks a kiss on your cheek. You're shocked as you touch the spot that he kissed, and Hanzo runs away to his other initiate friends. Takeda chuckles, coming to your side again.

"Who taught the boy to do that?" you question, a little laugh coming out as you watched Hanzo play tag with the other younglings.

Tomas sighs, a small smile as he watches his disciple play. "No matter, I will tell him not to do it again." Takeda chuckles, bringing you close to his side as his face is close to yours.

"T-Takeda!" you gasp. His voice is nice and low, nuzzling into your head before planting a little kiss on it.

Tomas threw his karambit near his foot, barely a centimeter near his toe.

"Away, Takeda," Tomas barely gets out of his gritted teeth. Takeda smirks, planting a very quick kiss on your cheek. He lets go of you, and Tomas makes a fast beeline for his dagger to try and cut the ninja. His pupils are small, and his irises take over completely.

"Tomas! Stop this instant!" you scold him.

Takeda has already run off, and Tomas is breathing heavy as you hold his arm back from him biting that man's head off.

"What's gotten into you?" hands on your hips as you interrogate him. "He's just being friendly..."

Tomas turns to you, a scoff coming from his mouth, "That isn't friendly. That's pushy, obnoxious, idiotic competition!" He tries to control himself, but you're stuck on the last word.

"H-hold on, competition?" You chuckle as you fix your hair, "Is this some cheesy romance novel?" Tomas burns with embarrassment as you poke his buttons to get him to talk.

Tomas swats your arms away, and you're a bit taken aback to how defensive he is. You can see how nervous he is, like an awkward teenager who wants to confess to the hottest girl at school.

Right now, you were the hottest girl, and the compound was school.

"I'll just say it," Tomas gives in. "I like you. I love you, even."

You blink, wanting to interject but he refuses. "Just let me talk." You nod.

"Since forever, I've always liked you. You were- are- a great warrior, strong, kind, and beautiful," Tomas goes on.

"You're amazing, shining so brightly. But I... I couldn't say anything." You look at Tomas with a frown, approaching him slowly as you slip your fingers in his hand.

"So why... why didn't you tell me?" you asked. "Why didn't you say anything until Takeda did stuff?"

Tomas sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before he explains further.

"I'd like to say I was keeping it at bay. Until we finished this fight, the one with my brothers," you listen with bated breath. "I know you can handle yourself, but this war is relentless- I may lose you."

You sigh, closing the gap between you and his chest as your other arm reaches for his cheek.

"We may not know what the future holds, Tomas," you say softly. "But we have now. That's all. If we wait, the things we're waiting for will slip from us."

Tomas watches as your hand, the one in his hand, guides him to the back of your head. He sucks in a breath as you pull yourself closer into his chest.

"Don't let this slip, Tomas." You whisper, looking up into his eyes as he looks down at your colored orbs.

He caves, and he leans in to lock lips with you. By the gods, your lips were pillowy soft, and you tasted like honey and lavender. Deeper yhis tongue went into your mouth, and your lips fought with his as you craved the distinct taste his lips had.

Letting go, you're both panting. Wiping your lips, you smile happily, the same smile with all your pearly whites on display. Tomas chuckles, and he nuzzles your nose as your foreheads touch.

"Did I take my shot well?" Tomas asks giddily. You nod and give him a chaste kiss.

"Right on my heart, dearest Tomas."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

bonus!

Takeda knocks on the door of Kuai Liang's office. He can hear soft padding on the ground, and the door opens with Harumi's presence.

"Takeda! What ring's you by?" Harumi asks kindly as she makes way for him to walk through. Takeda smiles and walks in, and Kuai Liang makes an entrance from the bathroom.

"Just here to bring news to your husband," Takeda shrugs.

"Well? How did it go?" Kuai asks, his black locks down as he dries his hair. "Did he do it?"

Takeda laughs, taking his phone out with a picture of Tomas and you kissing with the sunset in the background. Kuai Liang smiles, taking his phone and showing Harumi the fruit of his labor.

"Oh!" she gasps, hand over her heart plus a smile. "My my, they're finally together!"

"Pay up, bro!" Takeda beckons, hand out waiting for his money. Kuai Liang takes out a couple hundred yen, shoving the bills in his hand as Takeda whoops and cheers.

"You even bet on this, husband?" Harumi interrogates. Kuai Liang quickly ushers Takeda out before he hears Harumi rip a new on in him.

=====================

GUYS I CANT WAIT FOR THE DLC YAYAYAYAYA

i cannot wait to see where this new timeline goes

aight, see yall in the next fic!

[yayakoishii]

can we get some drunk love confessions from sanji?

Sober (Pt. 1) | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Genre/Tags: Light Angst, Fluff, Insecure Sanji; there's a scene that might feel like dub-con to some but it's consensual from both sides– please read at your own discretion! ♡

A/n: thank you so much for this prompt anon,, I love drunk confessions myself so I was excited to write this!! I wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be confessing or Sanji, so I decided to make it Sanji this time since I already wrote a fic where reader drunk confessed. I hope you enjoy this ♡

Part 2

also available on ao3!

The shouting on the ship got your attention from where you were playing cards with Usopp. Across the deck, Zoro and Sanji were fighting again. Even in the dark cloak of nighttime, they sure had the energy to fight without missing a beat. You sighed to yourself then decided that it would be better if you went over and distracted Sanji so the fight would end.

Except, before you had even stood up, the screaming stopped and the two were now stomping towards Zoro's stash of sake. You raised an eyebrow as you saw them sit down across each other, still glaring. You hurried over to them after telling Usopp that you'll be back in a while.

"What's going on?" You asked quietly to Nami and Chopper who had been watching over the two.

"They're having a drinking contest," the navigator replied matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows shot up in shock. Why would Sanji challenge Zoro to a drinking challenge of all things? "Zoro challenged him. And of course your lover boy couldn't back down."

"Nami!" You hissed at her, cheeks flushing. "Don't say that so close to him!"

Nami gave you a deadpan look. She still lowered her voice for your sake, "Sanji is dense as fuck. I bet all my money he wouldn't figure out your feelings from such a simple term."

"I'd still rather not risk it," you muttered underneath your breath before turning your attention to the drinking challenge in front of you. The two of them had already managed to down more than half of the first bottle. Illuminated by the lights on the deck, you could see the slight flush starting to rise on Sanji's cheeks.

The blonde chef could hold his liquor well but going against Zoro was probably equivalent to digging his own grave.

"This is not gonna end well," you sighed. "I'll just go finish my card game with Usopp. Are you gonna watch over these two or…?"

"They're paying me to play referee," she shrugged. You rolled your eyes and bit down the smile trying to come up. Chopper announced that he was going to sleep and to call him if something happened. You both waved him goodnight. Giving Nami a thumbs up, you went back to your seat too. Usopp was staring intensely at his own cards. You stared at him for a few seconds.

"You looked at my cards, didn't you?" You said flatly. Usopp's eyes widened and he started denying but gave up when you started shuffling the deck again. "Let's play one short game before turning in for the night."

You could still hear Zoro and Sanji fighting in the background, the noise just incoherent enough that you couldn't quite make out the words. You could tell Sanji was steadily getting more and more drunk as his voice started getting a little higher and shrill as he shouted. Even in the dead of the night, the Thousand Sunny was as lively as ever. The thought made you smile to yourself as you triumphantly showed your card sets to Usopp, finishing the game.

"You're suspiciously good at this," Usopp complained as he started packing up the cards.

"Be happy I didn't bet money on this," you grinned and leaned back in your chair. "You'd be a penniless beggar otherwise."

Usopp muttered something under his breath that you didn't quite catch. The day's exhaustion was starting to catch up and you decided that it was a good time to go to sleep. You had the early morning lookout shift anyway.

"Goodnight," Usopp called out as he left. You tilted your head up and down to acknowledge his words but stayed in your seat for a few more minutes. The shouting had ceased sometime ago and the low murmurs of conversation washed over you like a lullaby.

"(Y/n)!" Nami's shout of your name startled you awake from your half-asleep state.

"What is it?" You asked with a yawn as you made your way over. "Is their match over?"

"I had to stop them cause I don't think either of them plans to stop," she frowned. "I don't know about Zoro but Sanji would definitely die of alcohol poisoning if this goes on."

You laughed for a second but froze when you realised that Sanji was staring intensely at you. It made you self conscious and you automatically carded a hand through your hair to ensure it wasn't sticking out awkwardly.

"You should take him back while I squeeze my money out of Zoro," Nami winked at you and ran after the swordsman who had already wandered off somewhere. She was gone before you had even finished nodding.

"Alright, Sanji, come on," you smiled down at him, holding your hands out so he could stand up with the support. The chef stopped staring at your face and switched to staring at your hands instead. From your angle, you couldn't quite see his full face but the red splotches on his ears and cheeks were enough indication of how drunk he was. You waited for a few seconds. After a few beats of silence, Sanji placed his own cold hands into yours. You immediately covered them, trying to warm them as you pulled him up. The blonde must have been more drunk than you had thought because he lost his footing and nearly crashed into you.

Thankfully, you realised just in time and instead of the two of you falling on the deck, Sanji had crashed into your arms. Chests pressing, now he was the one looking down at you with a half-lidded gaze. The proximity resulted in Sanji's smell enclosing you, and you flushed at how one of his hands had sneaked around your waist in the confusion somehow.

"So beautiful," he whispered. Your heart was thudding faster, almost like it was trying to escape the confines of your ribcage. You nervously laughed it off.

"Alright, you've had too much to drink," you joked and tried to separate but Sanji's grip did not loosen. He always fought with his legs so you tended to forget that his arms were just as strong. Fingers spreading apart, his hand splayed across the small of your back. The cold touch over your shirt made goosebumps rise on your skin but you were distracted by the way Sanji's tongue was lightly grazing over his lips. The soft pink seemed to be shining in the light.

"This must be a dream," he spoke quietly, seemingly more to himself than you. You stayed still, praying that Sanji couldn't hear your crazy heart rate and that he would forget this tomorrow. (Or well, maybe he shouldn't forget this. You didn't know which option was more appealing at the moment.) "You smell divine, my love."

"Y- You too?" You squeaked out in panic, wanting to hide your face but your hands were trapped between your bodies, resting on his shoulders. Sanji laughed at your words– a soft, genuine, relaxed laugh that you didn't often get to hear. It made your embarrassment quell down and your heart felt warm. Sanji wasn't wrong. Something about this whole night seemed to feel hazy and distant, like a dream. He would only say such words and smile like that around you in a dream, right?

"I wish this wasn't a dream," his words sent something cold down your insides. "If only this was real…"

You paused and looked up at him. Pushing your body on the tip of your toes, you leaned into his ear and asked quietly, "What if it wasn't a dream? What would you do?"

You didn't know what had possessed you but it felt like the right thing to do, the only natural question to ask after his previous words.

"So many things I've wanted to do for so long," his words were still quiet, almost like he was afraid to break the tranquillity of the night. You stepped back and Sanji let you this time. His expression seemed broken and his eyes looked glassy.

You had never actually seen Sanji drunk. He had a high tolerance for alcohol and he usually didn't drink much to ensure he could take care of anyone else who was. (He always said it was just for the ladies but you knew he was secretly looking out for everyone even though he wouldn't admit it.) He never really cried in front of you either. The fact that a drunk Sanji was sad and broken was news to you.

"Sanji," you didn't realise you had cupped his cheeks until you had already done it. Something about that desperate look on his face had spiked an intense urge in you to hold him close. "Is everything alright?"

"If this was reality," his voice wavered, unconfident and so unlike the usual him, "you wouldn't look at me like you're doing right now. If this was real, you wouldn't be in my arms right now. You would never love me the way I love you and you would never see me as something beyond a crewmate."

Your breath hitched at the words, fingers accidentally pressing harder into Sanji's jaws. He didn't seem to feel it because a tear slipped down his cheek and onto your hand, the liquid trailing between your touch.

"That's okay," he blinked, a few more droplets falling down or getting stuck in his eyelashes. "As long as I can hold you like this in a dream… that's enough for me. I won't ask more of you if this was real. All that you give me is already more than I deserve. After all, for someone like me… There's no way you would fall for someone like me. And that's okay. Because you deserve someone better. But I'm so selfish. I wish I could keep you all to myself. I wish I could hold you like this in reality, and tell you how much you mean to me. I wish I could make you smile all the time and be a shoulder for you to cry upon on your bad days. I wish I could k- kiss you and tell you over and over… how much I love you."

It felt like a swarm of butterflies had suddenly erupted in your chest. The fluttering feeling was ticklish and you couldn't quite form words and you could only gape at Sanji. He still seemed to believe this was a dream because his other hand cupped your cheek. His thumb brushed against it, gentle and warm, no longer cold after all the proximity in you two. Before you could say anything, he dipped down and captured your lower lip in between his own, gently caressing it with his tongue. The sudden sensation made you erupt in flames, the blush reaching the tips of your extremities.

"S- Sanji," you breathed out shakily when he let your lip go to slip his tongue into your mouth. You wanted this. You had wanted it for so, so long– but not like this. You drew your head away before he could successfully infiltrate the warm, wet cavern of your mouth and instead gave him a flushed smile. His eyes still looked glossy but there was an unmistakable softness in them.

You would normally have told yourself that he was just drunk and didn't mean it. But there was a part of you that knew it wasn't the effect of the alcohol. Sanji was unbearably honest when he was drunk. His true feelings were what's making him sad. Denying them would be both idiotic and disrespectful, but you couldn't accept them either. The words he spoke weren't ones he had decided to say himself. He thought this was a dream.

"Tell me this tomorrow morning," you whispered, pressing a gentle and slightly wet kiss on his cheek. "Tell me you love me when you're sober. Tell it to me, when this is real and no longer a dream. I'll wait for you to tell me when you feel ready for it."

Sanji stared down at you, his eyes starstruck and in an expression of awe. The sight made your heart clench but you told yourself that he will do it. He will tell you his feelings again, when he is in full consciousness. For that, you had to let him go right now.

"And then we'll do everything that we have wanted to do for so long, yeah?"

°•❀•°

All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

★ Taglist:

@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki | @yuninha2004

Part 2 now available!

[paper-mario-wiki]

hey, can I ask you for some advice? sorry if this is uncalled for or you just can't answer this, I understand if so

how did you work up the courage to actually get to HRT so fast? I've found out I was a trans woman around when I was 15 and im about to have my 23rd birthday, and due to my financial/working/academic/housing (I live w my fairly conservative parents) situation it does not look like it's in the cards for me any time soon. but also I feel like I should just try to find a way and try to start out ASAP, for the sake of my own happiness. but also im afraid of whatll happen if things go Topsy turvy and I need housing from a family that thinks I'm a freak. how did you do it? again, apologies if this ask feels unwarranted or to big to ask to "Funny lady play tf2 dot blog", but I'm fine if this doesn't see an answer

First of all, I don't have insurance, so keep in mind that I did it out of pocket (note: I am broke).

I used Zocdoc (America only, sorry) to find a hormone therapy consultation, went to that appointment, and they referred me to an endocrinologist. After I got some blood tests done, I got prescribed a 30 day supply of sublingual Estradiol for about $16, again, without insurance. Now, this is of course in Biden's Seattle so it might not be as easy where you are. But at least for me, the process from booking the first appointment, all the way to taking the first pill was about half a month, because I got lucky finding a doctor. During covid, according to my endocrinologist, there was a HUGE explosion of people wanting to medically transition, so a very common thing I've heard is that a lot of doctors are booked out for months. I was lucky enough to get this appointment on Sep 1st, because the next person available in my area wouldnt have gotten me in until November.

Critically, here's my main piece of advice: You can't start until you take the first real action towards accomplishing it outside of your head. You can think, and plan, and crystalize how great it would be if it happened, but you have to actually make the first step and google "HRT doctors in my area", and schedule an appointment. To do it, you must first do it. This goes for many things in life. Simply starting the processes instead of keeping them in my head had me accomplishing many things I never thought I actually would, like starting HRT, going to university in Japan, and moving to Seattle.

Many people like me, including maybe you, are really good at getting in your own head and thinking of every possible way something could go wrong, or could be denied to you. And you get so tied up in the reasoning that you forget about the Doing. To the best of your ability, try to stop thinking, and just start doing. Anything. Choose to do something that you have wanted to for a while. Just one thing. Doesn't have to be buying a plane ticket to France, or confessing a huge secret, maybe start with that thought you had the other day of "ya know I bet pottery on those big goofy wheels is fun" and google 'pottery wheels near me' and see where it takes you. It's easier than you'd think to try. And who knows, at the end of this process maybe you'll have a beautiful vase. Or, even better, a vase with a personality, flaws, and a new hobby that you're excited to get better at.

[dnpbeats]

laylo, email domains, and danandphiltour.com

okay so i've been trying to think of why dan and phil would even use the tour email in the first place (assuming they knew we'd see it), regardless of if the project is a tour or not! so i've been looking into how laylo works and if dan and phil were the ones who picked the email domain, if they knew we'd see it, etc.—the answer is yes, they did. they had to manually enter the domain they wanted the emails to be sent from, as well as the email that replies are received at. all of my information comes from this page on laylo's website, including the video :)

disclaimer: i'm not an expert on this stuff! i'm just making educated guesses based on the information available to me. if somebody has firsthand experience with this and i'm dead wrong, please feel free to let me know. also i'm not trying to sway people one way or another if they're announcing a tour or not—just presenting info on how laylo works and a possible reason for why they started with certain emails and then switched to others

for the sake of clarity: original emails were sent from "news@mail.danandphiltour.com" and the reply email was "dh@danielhowell.com." after a bit (a couple of hours maybe) the emails were switched. currently they get sent from "news@laylo.danandphilshop.com" and the reply email is "danandphilshopweb@gmail.com"

okay, so, long story short: when dan and phil (or whoever they had doing this for them/helping them) set up their laylo account, the email page looked like this:

they would have been prompted to send emails from whatever domain they chose, meaning when they entered danandphiltour.com, they did it fully knowing that people would see the emails sent from it. if it is a tour that they don't want spoiled, or if it isn't a tour at all, why would they even pick this domain to send emails from?

my best guess is that it's because danandphilshop.com is hosted through shopify, and danandphiltour.com is just a webpage hosted by cloudflare (as far as i can tell the dnptour website itself is just an html/css page). if you watch the video from laylo, they talk about how certain domain providers have special tricks you have to do when editing the DNS settings. the example given in the video is squarespace, and they have a few more domain providers listed where issues can come up. while shopify isn't one of the ones listed, it's a similar type of host to squarespace. it's not hard to imagine that there are similar (but not identical) tricks to changing DNS settings for shopify. for comparison, squarespace's page on DNS settings is pretty similar to shopify's. in a world where it's difficult to get the custom domain working with shopify, it would make sense if they tried to use other domains they own that weren't hooked up to shopify—namely, danandphiltour.com

(note that the method for editing DNS settings on cloudflare seems to be pretty similar to the other two listed above. the reason why i'm guessing that clouldflare might be more straightforward than shopify is because shopify is a whole platform with a lot going on in the backend (similar to squarespace), whereas cloudflare is just hosting the domain. but again this is just me guessing!)

so yeah, that's my guess as to why they chose to use dnptour as the email knowing people would see it! as to why they changed it, who knows. maybe for whatever reason they wanted to use dnpshop and just couldn't get it working in time, maybe it was because people were getting the wrong idea with the tour email, maybe it was because people were getting the right idea with the tour email! but i think the reason they used it in the first place is probably just that they were having trouble with the dnpshop domain and were like fuck it let's try dnptour and that went more smoothly :)

as to why the reply to email was originally dan's email and then it switched to the random-ass dnpshop gmail—no guesses on that, if anyone has any thoughts lmk 😂

[primamchorus]

So I've gotten moved down with my parents as I said I'd be. Thankfully, my partner and I can lend hands where hands are needed. Right now, my hands are going toward drawing whatever I can for those that are interested. Due to the nature of what's been found, I thought it would be meaningful if I were to offer flower portraits of your characters should you be interested and donate to help my parents achieve what they require to get their respective surgeries.

My dad has a mass on his kidney, and the ultrasounds show this tumor as looking kind of like a flower. So in that vein, that's why I'm choosing to do flower busts as the primary thing I'm offering. That said, I am also still willing to do Discord emotes and stickers, and as a more left field thing, do clean, neutral lighting GPose reference sheets for those that may want them. More information can be found below the read more / show all.

There is a lot of information regarding everything affecting my dad and my stepmother available on my family's GoFundMe page found here. My family supported me and fought for me when I was fighting Leukemia, the least I can do is fight as much for their sake, too.

I also understand any apprehension of donating through GoFundMe because they take a percentage of the funds raised. If you feel so inclined, you can donate directly to my dad through his PayPal, or directly to me through my Ko-Fi page.

Before commissioning me, please understand: I have no slots this time around for my work because I'd like to raise as much as I can for my parents; I don't know how bogged down with commissions I'll be. That said, please refer to this post where I will be updating it periodically to keep track of my progress.

I tend to do FCFS, but if I'm waiting on you for information or input, I will move on to the next person while you figure out what you'd like to do, or are busy because other obligations.

I will not be doing large scale commissions like last time (i.e. full bodies + background work). I want something quicker and more manageable for myself, so I'm focusing bust shots, emotes, and stickers. Please do not ask for anything other than what is listed here.

Flower Busts :: Single Character :: $50 base w/ 1 flower type + $8 per extra flower type

Discord / Twitch Emotes :: $10 per

Discord Stickers :: $20 per

Gondola Discord Sticker YCH :: $25 per

Simple GPose Reference Sheets :: $5 per turn around

If you are interested in having a character reference sheet, please know that I will need either a .chara or a .mcdf file. A .chara is just a vanilla file with no mods and should be able to be saved through Anamnesis, and a .mcdf is if you mod your characters and can export your Mare Synchronos file. When you have any of these files, please put them in a Google Drive folder and send them to me!

I will not be meeting with people in-game as an option, unfortunately, because I do have my own reference studios set up in the houses that I use for them when necessary. My schedule is also all over the place to comfortably set anything up.

[commodorez]

I still believe the craziest form of computer program storage format from the 1980s is the cassette tape. Logical I get it but to store entire programs on little tape (that I only remember using to play music) is just crazy to me. Idk

Agreed, cassette tape for data storage was really clever. The concept had its heyday was the 1970s in a wide variety of encoding schemes for different computer platforms. It did persist into the 80s, mostly in Europe, while the US switched to floppy disks as soon as they were available for systems. The majority of my Ohio Scientific software is on cassette.

Talking with UK vs. US Commodore 64 users in particular will highlight the disparity in which storage mediums that were commonplace. I've got a few pieces of software on tape for mainly the VIC-20, but I rarely bother to use it, because it's slow and annoying. To be fair, Commodore's implementation of data storage on tape is pretty rock solid relative to the competition. It's considered more reliable than other company's but Chuck Peddle's implementation of the cassette routines are considered quite enigmatic to this day. He didn't document it super well, so CBM kept reusing his old code from the PET all the way through the end of the C128's development 7 years later because they didn't want to break any backward compatibility.

The big thing that really made alot of homebrewers and kit computer owners cozy up to the idea was the introduction of the Kansas City Standard from 1976. The idea of getting away from delicate and slow paper tape, and moving towards an inexpensive, portable, and more durable storage medium was quite enticing. Floppy disk drives and interfaces were expensive at the time, so something more accessible like off the shelf audio tapes made sense.

I've linked two places you can read about it from Byte Magazine's February 1976 issue below (check the attribution links).

You might recognize a familiar name present...

There are a few ways to encode binary data on tape designed to handle analog audio, but the KCS approach is to have 1's be 8 cycles of 2400Hz tone, and 0's be 4 cycles of 1200Hz tone. I say cycles, because while 300 baud is the initial specification, there is also a 1200 baud specification available, so the duration of marks vs spaces (another way of saying 1's and 0's), is variable based on that baud rate. Many S-100 computers implemented it, as do a few contemporary proprietary designs.

The big 3 microcomputers of 1977 that revolutionized the industry (Apple II, Commodore PET 2001, and Tandy TRS-80 Model I) each have their own cassette interface implementation. It kept costs down, and it was easy to implement, all things considered. The Apple II and TRS-80 use off-the-shelf cassette deck connections like many other machines, whereas the original variant of the PET had an integrated cassette. Commodore later used external cassette decks with a proprietary connector, whereas many other companies abandoned tape before too long. Hell, even the original IBM PC has a cassette port, not that anybody bothered to use that. Each one used a different encoding format to store their data, rather than KCS.

Here's a sample of what an OSI-formatted tape sounds like.

And here's a Commodore formatted tape, specifically one with VIC-20 programs on it.

I won't subject you to the whole program, or we'd be here all day. The initial single tone that starts the segment is called the "leader", I've truncated it for the sake of your ears, as well as recorded them kinda quietly. I don't have any other tape formats on hand to demonstrate, but I think you get the idea.

You can do alot better than storing programs on tape, but you can also do alot worse -- it beats having to type in a program every time from scratch.

[gothamite-rambler]

Slade Wilson, negotiating with Oliver Queen

Slade's on the phone with Oliver Queen, while Roy, dressed in his Arsenal suit, is tied up in the background.

Roy: Has he hung up yet?

Slade: Not yet.

Roy (disgruntled): Oh... He usually drops the call when I say I need him for something, but yeah sure listen to the insane murderer... that stings a bit.

Meanwhile, Oliver, holding his phone, sighed and rubbed his temples as Slade laughed at Roy's comment.

Slade (on the phone): I have Roy Harper. If you want him back unharmed, I’ll need ten thousand dollars.

Roy (indignant): Whoa, whoa, hold up! You think I’m only worth ten grand? Do you even know who my father is?

Slade (to Roy): You think they’d pay more for me?

Roy: Damn right!

Oliver shook his head, eyes closed in frustration. Sitting beside him, Bruce Wayne clenched his jaw, his irritation growing, and shot Oliver a withering look that clearly conveyed his disbelief at Oliver's current antics.

Roy: MAKE IT ONE MILLION—

Oliver (shouting): ROY, STOP! I’m not about to see my net worth tank just to save you!

Bruce (appalled): What is wrong with you?

Slade (amused): I mean, if you want to up the ante—

Oliver (furious): I will end this call if you even think about—

Bruce snatched the phone away, then smacked Oliver on the back of the head ashamed of the man sitting next to him.

Bruce: Is ten thousand still available if I can get it sent in the next hour?

Roy (excited in the background): Is that Bruce? Bruce, send them one million dollars!

Bruce: What have you done to this kid?

Oliver (raising a hand, avoiding Bruce's gaze): Don’t judge me. He got that from your adopted seed.

Bruce: Either I send this money or your send this money and if I send this money I'm beating your ass for being an awful father currently.

Oliver: I’m not sending one million dollars!

Bruce (frustrated): Your net worth is three times that, you jackass!

Oliver: Yeah, well, my son hasn’t died once, Invader Zim!

Bruce: For god’s sake, you kicked him out when he was addicted to heroin!

Slade: I'd have done the same. Druggies are unreliable. I made my daughter cut her eye out to prove her loyalty, so I get where you’re coming from, Ollie North.

Roy could be heard laughing in the background. Bruce covered his face, shaking his head, while Oliver’s cheeks flushed red as he grappled with the implication that Slade agreed with him.

Oliver: I can’t believe I’m about to concede to a convicted hebephile. Damn it, I’ll send one million.

Slade: Yes!

Bruce was already texting Jason Slade’s coordinates and informing him that Roy had been kidnapped.

Bruce: Well, at least a predator didn’t side with me.

Oliver: Oh, shut up! Like you haven’t agreed with him. Mr. “I won’t kill my son’s murderer!”

Bruce: I wasn’t the one who kicked their son out of the house, ignored them for three years, and hung up when they confronted a child abuser!

Oliver: Oh yeah well... you're youngest son is weird!

Bruce: Calling you a weird, old man is not being weird! He's observant and honest!

Slade chuckled, amused as he listened to their bickering, fully aware of his own failures as a father and reveling in the chaos it created.