#I think the time jumps interfere with it maybe

[trashbatistrash]

,

[cryptosexologist]

rain world watcher review its rambling its long nothing of honor is contained here etc: stuck in the right side of Aether Ridge, with my ways out either being Go To A Zone Whose Only Connection Is THE FIRST ONE, taking me on an a-b-c-a route (and i'm not exactly confident theres anything linked to Coral Caves (first zone) that isn't either Aether Ridge still the way that i got there first time or, like, locked behind progression shit (i had to look up spoilers to not ragequit on that locked-from-the-other-side portal, had no clue what i was dealing with). also why the hell would they chop up the original Aether Ridge mod like that but just LEAVE the dead-ends to its subregions just. sitting there. like that. theres so many rooms that feel like they should lead SOMEWHERE but noooope! also the rain is making increasingly less sense why not just go the Saint route for the snowy area (not saying it needs temperature regulation mechanics, though that'd be more INTERESTING actually, but just. have it be a blizzard that kills you at end of timer or some shit X[ )

Also me being "stuck" because the way back is too fucking windy in the wrong direction has honestly looped back around to comedic. I took the wind to imply there was something Worthwhile (hence the new mechanic) thaterways rather than the horrible acid tunnels but instead its leading me in a loooooooooooong circle.

so far my favorite New Area is the torrential railway with barely anything in it that just leads between Coral and Aether, and my favorite part of the DLC was the beginning before *any* of the new regions because watching (lol) the visual changes corrupting the familiar environs in a way that made way less sense than Downpour's timeline goings-on had a good and spooky vibe to it. I've heard theres similar stuff later along those lines but. I need to. Get there.

[mintyys-blog]

UNDRESSED 5 — mark variants x reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: fighting

Y/N hummed softly as she worked in the kitchen, rolling out the cookie dough with practiced ease. Baking had always been something that helped calm her mind—a little bit of normalcy in a house filled with chaos and violent superpowered versions of her ex-boyfriend. She carefully scooped out portions of dough, placing them on the baking sheet.

But something was off.

She frowned, glancing at the dough. Hadn’t she just scooped more than that? Shaking her head, she went back to work—only to notice, again, that the dough seemed to be… decreasing.

She narrowed her eyes. Someone was stealing it.

Pausing, she set the spoon down and slowly scanned the kitchen. She waited, watching, pretending to be distracted. Then—movement. A flash of black and blue in the corner of her eye.

Gotcha.

“I know it’s you—stop stealing my batter!” she accused, spinning around and pointing a flour-dusted finger at the culprit. Mohawk Mark stood a few feet away, a guilty smirk on his face, arms raised in mock surrender. “Fine, you caught me,” he admitted, his mouth still half-full of raw cookie dough.

Y/N huffed, grabbing a kitchen towel and snapping it at him. It landed against his arm with a soft thwap.

“At least let me bake them first!” she scolded, glaring at him.

Mohawk Mark just grinned, completely unfazed. “Well, you know I prefer it raw. And you do too, right, babe?” His smirk widened as he wiggled his brows at her suggestively. She rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw the back of her skull. “Shut up! And stop stealing my dough!”

He chuckled, completely unrepentant as he took another handful and stuffed it into his mouth before retreating toward the living room. Y/N groaned, exasperated. “I swear—”

“Love you too, sweetheart!” he called back over his shoulder, laughing as he disappeared around the corner. Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she looked at the remaining dough. She’d have to make more at this rate. Living with them was going to be the death of her.

Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she got back to work. She knew Mohawk Mark wasn’t the only one she had to worry about. If he was stealing dough, it wouldn’t be long before the others caught wind of what she was doing and came sniffing around.

She managed to get the first batch into the oven without further interference, but as soon as she turned around, she saw another culprit eyeing her workspace.

Full Mask Mark.

He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, head tilted slightly as he stared at the remaining cookie dough like it was his next meal.

“No,” she said immediately, pointing at him with her spoon. He didn’t say a word. Just looked at her. “No,” she repeated firmly. “Don’t even think about it.” Still, he said nothing. But he stepped forward. “Mark, I swear—”

The second she turned her back, he moved faster than she could react, swiping a lump of dough right off the tray.

“You son of a—!” She spun around, grabbing the towel she’d used on Mohawk Mark and snapping it at him. He caught it mid-air with ease. She scowled as he took a slow, exaggerated bite of the stolen dough. “Technically,” he mused through his mask, “you didn’t say I couldn’t take any. You just said ‘No.’”

Her eye twitched. “That means don’t take any!” He shrugged, still chewing. “Maybe you should be more specific next time.” Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples. “I hate you.”

Full Mask Mark leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “No, you don’t.” Before she could throw something at him, he stepped back and disappeared just as quickly as he arrived, leaving her standing there, fuming.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath. Just as she turned back to the oven, she heard a new voice. “Smells good.” She jumped, placing a hand over her chest as she turned to see Viltrumite Mark now leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with amusement.

“I swear to God,” she breathed, “if you’re here to steal dough too, I’m leaving.” He smirked. “Nah. I’ll wait until they’re baked.”

“Oh, how kind of you.” She turned back to check on the cookies, rolling her eyes. Living in a house full of these guys was exhausting. But, at the same time… she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this alive.

Just as Y/N was pulling the first batch of cookies out of the oven, another presence made itself known.

Sinister Mark.

He entered the kitchen like a shadow, silent but predatory, drawn in by the scent of fresh-baked cookies. His sharp eyes flicked over to the tray cooling on the counter, his expression unreadable.

“Oh, you’re baking again?” he mused, stepping closer.

Y/N had no time to react before he casually plucked a cookie from the tray and popped it into his mouth.

“Wait—”

Too late.

He stopped mid-chew, his entire body tensing for a split second. His jaw clenched, and for once, he seemed at a loss for words. Y/N winced. Yep. That’s gotta burn.

He stood still, staring at her, clearly unwilling to admit his mistake. After a long moment, he finally swallowed, his throat working as he forced the molten cookie down. “Good,” he said evenly, his voice slightly strained. “But very hot.”

She tried—really tried—not to laugh. But a small giggle escaped her lips before she could stop it. “I told you to wait before eating them!” He scowled slightly but didn’t reply. Instead, he grabbed another cookie, this time blowing on it first before taking a bite.

Y/N shook her head, amused. “You act all menacing, but you’re just a big dumbass, huh?” Sinister Mark raised a brow. “Do you want me to prove you wrong?” Her smile faltered slightly, but before she could answer, another voice cut in.

“Alright, that’s enough flirting,” Mohawk Mark drawled from the doorway, smirking. “Save some cookies for the rest of us, Mark.” Sinister Mark’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he reached for another cookie and made a slow, deliberate show of eating it while staring Mohawk Mark down.

Mohawk scoffed. “Oh, real mature.” Y/N sighed, already sensing the beginning of yet another fight. She grabbed a spatula and smacked both of them lightly on the arms.

“Cut it out,” she warned. “There’s enough for everyone—if you can behave.”

The two Marks glared at each other for a long moment before Sinister finally turned away with a small smirk, grabbing one more cookie just to spite Mohawk Mark before leaving the kitchen. Mohawk Mark huffed, crossing his arms. “Why does he get special treatment?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Because he almost burned his mouth off, so that was punishment enough.”

Mohawk snickered. “Yeah, that was pretty funny.” Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she started preparing another batch. One house. Eight variants. And a lot of cookies. She was going to need more flour.

Y/N had just finished setting up the next batch of cookies when another presence entered the kitchen.

Maskless Mark.

He was quieter than the others, his expression unreadable as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. Unlike Mohawk or Sinister Mark, he didn’t immediately reach for a cookie. Instead, he just watched her.

Y/N raised a brow. “You gonna steal dough again, or just stare?”

He blinked, then shook his head. “Just… watching.” She sighed, turning back to her baking. “You guys are like vultures. I swear, I can’t do anything in peace.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he walked over to the cooling tray, picked up a cookie, and inspected it for a moment. Then, with a small nod, he took a bite. Y/N waited for some kind of reaction. Nothing. Just quiet chewing. She huffed. “Well?” He swallowed. “Good.”

“…That’s it?”

He looked at her, something unreadable in his expression. “Yeah.” She sighed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.” The tension in the room shifted when another voice interrupted.

“You really need to start locking the kitchen door.” Y/N groaned as she turned to see Omni Mark entering, his usual smug smirk in place. “You again?” she deadpanned.

“What can I say? You make the best cookies,” he said, shamelessly snatching two from the tray. Y/N was about to scold him, but before she could, a blur of motion came from behind, and the cookies were suddenly gone.

Omni Mark blinked. “What the—” Mohawk Mark smirked, chewing loudly as he held up the stolen cookies. “Too slow.”

Omni Mark’s eye twitched. “You little—” Y/N saw where this was going and immediately stepped between them. “No. I just cleaned this kitchen, and if you two start fighting, I will kick you both out.”

Omni Mark scowled but backed off, while Mohawk Mark simply grinned, clearly enjoying himself. She exhaled in relief—until she noticed a new problem. Prisoner Mark was standing near the stove, arms crossed, staring at the last few cookies. “…What are you doing?” Y/N asked, suddenly wary. “Waiting,” he said simply.

“For what?”

“For them to cool down.” Y/N blinked. “You know you can just blow on them, right?” Prisoner Mark shrugged. “Not taking any chances.”

She stifled a laugh. After all this time, the memory of Sinister Mark nearly melting his mouth was still influencing their actions. As she turned back to finish up, she felt a warm presence beside her. Full Mask Mark. Unlike the others, he didn’t reach for a cookie. Instead, he leaned in close, just enough for his voice to brush against her ear.

“You’re cute when you’re bossy,” he murmured. Her face warmed, and she smacked him lightly with a dish towel. “Go away.” He chuckled but obeyed, retreating before the others could notice. Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. She loved baking, but dealing with them? That was an entirely different challenge.

Y/N barely had time to react. One moment, she was dealing with the absolute chaos in the kitchen—Omni Mark and Mohawk Mark nearly throwing hands, Sinister Mark cooling his burned mouth, Prisoner Mark silently waiting for his turn, and Full Mask Mark getting a little too close—the next, she was gone.

Strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. Before she could even yelp, the wind rushed past her, and the kitchen disappeared in a blur. Then, silence. Y/N blinked as she found herself in a dimly lit room, warm and quiet. The scent of fresh linen filled her nose, and the only sound was the steady breathing of the man who had abducted her. No Mask Mark.

She glared up at him, still in his arms. “Really?” His expression remained unreadable as he gently set her down on a plush bed. “It was getting too loud.” She crossed her arms. “And your solution was kidnapping me?” He nodded, completely serious. Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples. “You’re all insane.”

No Mask Mark just stood there, watching her with that same quiet intensity he always had. He was different from the others—less dramatic, less outwardly possessive, but there was something intense about him that she couldn’t ignore. After a moment, he finally spoke. “You didn’t seem happy.” Y/N blinked. “Huh?”

“In the kitchen.” His gaze locked onto hers, unwavering. “You were overwhelmed.”

She hesitated. She was overwhelmed, but she hadn’t realized it had been that obvious. The others were exhausting—always fighting, always pushing their own agendas. And yet, No Mask Mark had noticed before she even realized it herself. Her arms slowly dropped to her sides. “…So you took me here?”

A small nod. “You needed a break.” Something in her chest tightened. It had been so long since someone had just looked out for her without an ulterior motive. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Instead of speaking, she sighed and flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Well… thanks, I guess.”

She expected him to leave. Instead, she felt the bed dip slightly as he sat on the edge, not touching her, but close enough that she could feel his presence. For once, there was no fighting. No chaos. Just quiet. Y/N turned her head to look at him. “Are you gonna stay?”

His gaze softened just a little. “If you want me to.” She didn’t answer right away. Then, after a beat, she shifted closer, just enough for her fingers to graze his. “…Yeah,” she murmured. “I think I do.”

No Mask Mark kissed her like he knew her—like he had been waiting for this moment for far too long. His lips moved slowly, deliberately, savoring her, making her feel wanted in a way she hadn’t in so long.

Y/N melted into him, fingers curling against his jaw before slipping into his hair. He let out a quiet exhale at the touch, deepening the kiss just slightly, his hands tightening around her waist.

There was no rush, no desperation—just steady, quiet intensity. She shivered when he finally pulled away, just enough to let their foreheads rest together. His breath was warm against her lips, his fingers tracing lazy circles against the small of her back.

“…You didn’t resist,” he murmured, voice low and rough. She swallowed hard, heart pounding in her chest. “Maybe I didn’t want to.” A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. “Good.”

His hand slid up her spine, fingers grazing her bare shoulder. Goosebumps rose along her skin, and she realized how dangerous this was—how easy it was to get lost in him. Because he felt safe. And after everything—after losing everything—she wasn’t sure she could resist that.

Y/N shifted slightly, moving to put just a little space between them. He let her, watching her carefully, his expression unreadable. “…I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s okay.” Her chest tightened. “You’re too calm about this.”

“I told you,” he murmured. “I don’t need to rush. You’ll come to me when you’re ready.” That confidence—it should have been frustrating, maybe even infuriating, but instead, it made her stomach flip.

Because he wasn’t wrong. Y/N bit her lip, staring at him for a long moment. Then, finally, she sighed, flopping back onto the bed and covering her face with her hands. “I hate you.” He chuckled, lying back down beside her. “No, you don’t.”

She groaned into her hands. “Shut up.” His silence was amused. And just like that, the tension melted. Y/N exhaled slowly, peeking at him through her fingers. He was still watching her, but he wasn’t pressing, wasn’t demanding more. He was just waiting. And that, somehow, made her heart ache more than anything.

The door slammed open without warning. Y/N barely had time to process before a loud, irritated voice filled the room. “The hell are you doing?” She jumped slightly, her heart lurching as she quickly sat up. No Mask Mark, however, barely reacted. He just let out a slow exhale, rubbing a hand over his face as if already tired of whatever was about to happen.

Standing in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes burning, was Stripe Mark. He looked pissed. Not surprised. Not confused. Just angry.

Y/N had only a second to take in his tensed muscles, his narrowed eyes flicking between her and No Mask Mark, before—without another word—he reached for the door handle and slammed it shut. Hard. Silence. Y/N blinked. “Uh…” No Mask Mark sighed, rubbing his temple. “Great.”

From outside the room, they could hear heavy footsteps storming down the hall, followed by a loud, frustrated, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Y/N winced.

“…Should we be worried?” she asked. No Mask Mark leaned back against the bed, completely unfazed. “No.” Another distant thud, followed by some incomprehensible but definitely angry ranting.

“…Maybe,” he corrected. Y/N groaned, flopping back down onto the bed. “Great. Just great.” Stripe Mark’s voice echoed again from down the hall, full of disbelief. “Out of everyone, you pick HIM?!” No Mask Mark just smirked.

Stripe Mark’s ranting didn’t stop. As the heavy footsteps retreated down the hall, his voice carried through the house, laced with irritation and absolute offense.

“Unbelievable! Of all the versions of us, she picks the QUIET ONE?” Another loud thud, like he’d punched a wall.

“What, does brooding make you more attractive?! Is that it?!” Y/N groaned, pressing a pillow over her face. “He’s never gonna let this go, is he?”

No Mask Mark smirked, stretching his arms behind his head. “Nope.” More yelling. “I AM RIGHT HERE, YOU KNOW!”

Y/N let out a long sigh, shifting to glare at the door like she could set Stripe Mark on fire with her eyes. “Should we do something?” No Mask Mark tilted his head. “Like what?”

“I dunno, shut him up?” A loud scoff from the hallway. “OH, I’M SORRY, AM I INTERRUPTING YOUR LITTLE LOVEFEST?”

Y/N groaned, rolling onto her stomach. “This is a nightmare.” No Mask Mark chuckled, pushing himself off the bed. “I’ll handle it.”

Y/N watched as he casually strolled to the door, opening it just as Stripe Mark was mid-rant. The two locked eyes. A tense, heavy silence settled between them. Stripe Mark scowled. “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?”

No Mask Mark’s expression was unreadable. “I don’t think about you at all.” Y/N covered her mouth, barely holding back her laughter. Stripe Mark’s eye twitched. “…Oh, that’s it,” he muttered, cracking his knuckles.

Before he could launch himself at No Mask Mark, another voice interrupted—sharp, bored. “Are you two seriously about to fight over this?”

Viltrumite Mark stood in the hallway, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Stripe Mark turned on him. “YES, BECAUSE APPARENTLY I’M THE CRAZY ONE FOR THINKING THIS IS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT.”

Viltrumite Mark raised an eyebrow. “You’re always crazy.” Stripe Mark looked absolutely offended. “EXCUSE ME?”

No Mask Mark just sighed, rubbing his temple. “This is stupid.” Y/N sat up, crossing her arms. “Agreed.”

Stripe Mark pointed at her. “YOU’RE the reason this is happening!” Y/N sighed. “Hey— you forced me to live with you guys, what did you expect?” Viltrumite Mark smirked slightly at that. No Mask Mark just raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

Stripe Mark sputtered. “I—you—THAT’S NOT—” He groaned, running a hand down his face before letting out a heavy sigh. “You know what? Fine. Whatever.”

He turned sharply on his heel, grumbling as he stormed away. “…He’ll get over it,” Viltrumite Mark muttered. Y/N let out a long breath. “I doubt it.”

No Mask Mark just smirked, shutting the door. “Let him be mad.” Y/N stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head with a laugh. “Well,” she muttered, collapsing back onto the bed. “That was something.”

The next day was quiet, the kind of quiet that could feel either peaceful or maddening depending on your mood. For Y/N, it was a thin line between the two. She needed something—anything—to keep her hands busy, to keep her mind from drifting into thoughts of what once was and what could never be again.

She crouched in the soft soil of the garden, the morning sun warm on her back. Her hands were covered in dirt as she pulled out stubborn weeds tangled between the delicate stems of her flowers. Vibrant reds, soft lilacs, and golden marigolds swayed with the breeze, standing proud against the chaos of her current life. The garden was her escape. Her little sanctuary. She let out a low grumble as another thick root refused to come out. “You’re ruining everything, you little pests,” she muttered, tugging harder until it snapped free.

Breathing heavily, she sat back on her heels, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Dirt streaked her cheek, but she didn’t care. She admired her work with a quiet satisfaction. For once, something was growing instead of falling apart. That’s when she heard the familiar sound of heavy footsteps behind her, a weight in the grass that matched a certain presence she’d come to recognize.

“I see you’re enjoying the garden,” a deep voice said. She turned and looked up to see him—Stripe Mark. Towering, broad-shouldered, and always intense. Today was no different, though something about his tone was… less abrasive. Not soft, never soft—but gentler, in his own way.

She offered him a small smile. “Thanks for making it for me,” she said sincerely. “It’s funny—I only mentioned it once, and you built it right away.” He nodded once, arms crossing as he glanced at the flowers. “What else was I supposed to do?”

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You could’ve ignored me. Most of you do that. Hear things, pretend you didn’t.” Stripe Mark let out a sharp exhale, part scoff, part something else. “I’m not like the rest of them.” She arched a brow, amused. “You say that, but you yell at everyone who breathes too loud.”

“Tch.” He crouched beside her, ripping out a weed with unnecessary force. “Maybe yelling’s just easier than saying what I actually feel.”

Her fingers paused in the dirt, eyes flicking to his profile. She didn’t expect that. Not from him. “You’re��� actually admitting that?” He didn’t look at her. His jaw clenched for a moment before he muttered, “You looked like you were about to break that day. I’ve seen that look before.” There was a weight to his voice, something haunted and restrained. She stared at him, heart softening. “It doesn’t end well when no one does anything,” he added quietly.

Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it was thick with unspoken understanding. She studied him, noticing how he was trying—maybe not in the way others would, but it was real. He hadn’t needed to build her a garden. He hadn’t needed to care. But he had. “I like it,” she said gently. “The garden. It helps. Gives me something that’s mine.”

He nodded, eyes still trained on the flowers, though he stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye. “Good. Don’t let it die.” She smiled, then leaned closer and wiped a streak of dirt off his cheek. “You’ve got some soil on you, big guy.” He grunted, mildly flustered, and turned his head away slightly. “Whatever.” Without thinking too much, she leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. His body went completely rigid. Like a statue carved from stone.

“I won’t,” she whispered after a beat. “Let it die.” His voice came quieter than usual, rough and uncertain. “…Good.” She looked back to her flowers, the sun rising a little higher in the sky, and for the first time in a while, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she’d bloom again too.

She stayed there for a while, fingers lightly brushing over the petals of a blooming daisy, basking in the warmth of the morning and the quiet companionship beside her. Stripe Mark hadn’t moved much since her kiss, still crouched stiffly with his arms on his knees, staring out at the garden like it held all the answers to the universe. He finally spoke again, voice lower this time, thoughtful. “You ever think about just… leaving?” Her brow furrowed. “You mean… running away?”

“No. Not running.” He looked at her now, eyes sharp but not unkind. “Just… going somewhere else. Somewhere we could actually breathe.”

She blinked at him. “We?” He paused for a second too long. “You. If you wanted, I mean. You deserve peace. You’re not made for war or chaos. Not like us.” She let out a bitter little laugh. “I don’t think I have a ‘peace’ anymore. It kind of died with the old version of my life.”

“Then maybe it’s time you started building a new one.” He stood up, towering over her in the sunlight, shadow falling over her. “You’re good at that. Making things grow.”

She stared up at him, stunned by the softness hiding behind his hardened edges. “I know I yell. I act like I’m better than the others. Maybe I even believe it,” he admitted. “But… I notice things. Like the way you smile less when someone mentions him.. Or how you touch the soil like it’s the only place you feel safe.”

Her lips parted but no words came. He turned slightly, jaw tightening. “If any of them make you feel weak, they’re wrong. You’re stronger than all of us.” With that, he started to walk away, back toward the house. “Mark—” she called out. He stopped mid-step, glancing back over his shoulder. “Thanks. For the garden. And for seeing me.” Something flickered in his gaze, something that looked a little like hope. “Don’t make me regret it,” he said, and then he disappeared through the trees, leaving her surrounded by flowers and the quiet thrum of something beginning to bloom—inside her this time. And for once, she didn’t feel like she was barely surviving.

She dusted off her knees, brushing a few stubborn flecks of dirt from her clothes, and finally stood. The sun was beginning its slow descent behind the trees, casting long, golden shadows over the freshly tended garden. A few flowers swayed in the breeze as if nodding in approval. She gave them a fond look before turning toward the house.

The wooden backdoor creaked softly as she stepped inside, the cool air greeting her after hours in the sun. She sighed, stretching her arms over her head as she padded toward the kitchen, intending to wash her hands before settling down with a book or maybe some tea. But as she turned the corner, she bumped into someone solid—unmoving, like a wall of muscle and presence. She stumbled slightly.

“Woah—sorry, I didn’t see—” she looked up and met the familiar, unreadable face of Full Mask Mark.

“Gardening again?” His voice was calm, a little amused, but tinged with that deep smoothness she had come to recognize as his default tone. She nodded, a little breathless, stepping back slightly to give herself space. “Yeah,” she said. “It keeps me sane.”

He tilted his head, his masked gaze scanning her face. “I can tell. You’ve got a bit of dirt on your cheek.”

Before she could respond, he reached out with gloved fingers and gently wiped it off. His hand was careful, slow, and lingered just a second longer than it needed to. She didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, her breath caught a little at the tenderness of the gesture. “Thanks,” she murmured, her voice softer now, nearly swallowed by the quiet around them.

He stepped back, hands lowering to his sides. “Anytime,” he said, before pausing. “You look… more relaxed out there. Happier.” She glanced down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe. I think the flowers listen better than you guys.”

He huffed a short laugh. “That wouldn’t surprise me.” She gave a small smile and turned toward the kitchen sink to wash her hands, but before she could go far, he spoke again.

“If you ever need company out there… I wouldn’t mind watching you work.” She turned slightly, surprised. “You? Watching someone garden?”

He shrugged, his mask hiding any expression but his tone was sincere. “Watching you. That’s different.” Her heart skipped slightly, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Then she nodded, almost shyly. “Maybe next time.”

He dipped his head, a silent acknowledgment, before heading down the hallway and leaving her to the quiet hum of her thoughts and the gentle flutter of something unnamed in her chest.

The faucet hissed softly as she scrubbed the dirt from her hands, warm water swirling down the drain. Her thoughts still lingered on Full Mask Mark’s unexpected gentleness, the way his gloved fingers brushed her cheek, and the strange flutter it left in her chest.

She dried her hands with a towel and stepped out of the kitchen, heading toward the main hallway—only to nearly collide with another broad frame.

Sinister Mark.

He didn’t move right away, towering over her with his arms crossed, crimson eyes sharp beneath his messy, disheveled hair. His expression was unreadable—like always—but his eyes always gave him away. And right now, they looked…curious. Watching her, as if trying to solve a puzzle only he was allowed to touch.

“Didn’t peg you for the gardening type,” he said at last, his voice gravelly and dark with that ever-present undercurrent of amusement. “Thought you’d be more into setting things on fire.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the soft smile tugging at her lips. “Funny. That’s more your style.”

He chuckled under his breath and stepped aside so she could pass. “So what’s the deal? You trying to be normal again?” he asked, following beside her, his tone lighter than usual—teasing, but not cruel.

She shrugged. “It helps. Gives me something to care about that isn’t…”

She trailed off.

“Us?” he offered bluntly.

She didn’t answer, not immediately. But he caught the shift in her eyes, the way her lips pressed into a thin line. “Didn’t mean that as a bad thing,” he said, voice dropping into something quieter, more serious. “I get it. You need peace. We’re not exactly the poster boys for that.”

“No,” she said quietly, stopping in the hallway. “You’re not.” For a moment, the silence between them grew heavy. And then Sinister stepped closer—close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off him. He reached up, slowly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, fingers hovering just a second longer than needed.

“But if you ever need something not peaceful,” he murmured, voice a low purr in her ear, “you know I’ll be there.” Her breath caught. There was danger in his gaze, yes—but also something more. Possessiveness. A twisted, broken affection that was still somehow real. “I know,” she whispered.

He stepped back, letting the moment fade before it consumed them both. “Good. Just don’t forget it.” And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving her heart thudding a little faster in his wake.

She stood there for a moment longer, watching his back as he disappeared down the hallway. That strange, hollow flutter in her chest remained, twisting uncomfortably with thoughts she didn’t want to name. Sinister Mark wasn’t soft. He wasn’t kind. But sometimes—just sometimes—he said things that made her feel seen in a way no one else could. And that was dangerous.

She shook the feeling off and turned to head back toward her room. The house was quiet now, the kind of silence that settled after all the chaos had exhausted itself. It was almost peaceful—until the floor creaked again. She turned sharply, half-expecting another Mark variant to be watching her from the shadows, but no one was there. Still, her senses prickled with the awareness that she wasn’t alone.

Not for long. Later that night, she found herself curled up on the couch with a book—something mundane, something grounding. She was halfway through the second chapter when she felt it again: a presence, a weight settling behind her. She didn’t need to turn around.

“You’re back already?” she asked softly.

Sinister Mark’s voice rumbled low behind her, closer than she expected. “Didn’t really leave.” He leaned on the back of the couch, watching her read over her shoulder. She could feel his breath near her neck, and her fingers tightened slightly around the pages. “You don’t sleep, do you?” she asked, still not looking at him.

“Sleep’s overrated,” he muttered. “Besides, it’s quieter at night. Less of them… more of you.” She turned her head slowly, eyes meeting his. “What do you mean ‘more of me’?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “You let your guard down at night. You’re softer. Sadder. Honest.” The words sank deep, uncomfortably true. She hated that he noticed. Hated that she didn’t deny it. And maybe he saw that, because Sinister tilted his head, his expression darker than before, but not cruel. “You deserve better than what he did to you,” he said lowly. “Leaving you? Choosing her over you? Idiotic.”

Her breath hitched. He moved around the couch, sitting beside her now, close but not touching. “And I don’t care if you hate me or fear me, or if you never say it out loud,” he added. “But I’d burn worlds before I ever abandoned you.” It was twisted. It was wrong. But it was real.

She didn’t look away because—deep down, in the quiet ache of her chest—those words struck something buried. Something raw. Something she tried every day to ignore. And here he was, dragging it into the open without shame.

“You don’t mean that,” she whispered, voice trembling. “You say things like that because you’re obsessed. It’s not the same.”

Sinister Mark leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor, his voice low, controlled… but simmering with intensity. “Obsession and love aren’t always separate things. Especially for people like me.”

She shifted uncomfortably, her book forgotten on her lap. “That’s not healthy.”

He looked up then, slowly turning his head toward her. “You think I’m healthy?” His smile was a cruel curve, sharp at the edges. “I’m not. None of us are. But even broken things know when something is worth protecting.”

She swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. The way he looked at her—it wasn’t just twisted desire or territorial madness. There was something deeply haunted in his expression. Like whatever version of her he had in his universe had been taken, and this one—her—was a second chance he refused to lose.

She should’ve been afraid. Maybe a part of her was.

But a louder part—the part that still cried at night when no one was around, the part that still felt the sting of abandonment every time she closed her eyes—clung to his words.

Sinister Mark reached out and gently—surprisingly—tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was soft, almost reverent.

“You’re not disposable, Y/N. Not to me. You never were.”

The way he said her name was so different from how Main Mark used to say it. Like a promise. Like a vow.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked, voice cracking with emotion. “You don’t even know me.”

His jaw clenched. “I lost my version of you. I didn’t save her. I failed. But this time, I won’t. This time, I’ll make sure you know exactly how much you matter.”

And then, he stood, slowly—his gaze never leaving hers.

“I’ll give you space,” he said after a moment. “But just know… I’m not going anywhere.”

With that, he walked off into the shadows again, leaving her alone on the couch, heart racing, chest tight, and that raw, terrifying thought echoing in her mind: He meant every word.

comment if you wanna be added to the tag list

@starlightt180

[glossykissies]

i think this was like one of the first scott fics u posted but reader was in college for like fashion design? i think 😭 but anyways reader got a bad grade in one of her classes and scott says she cant touch him cos u cant reward bad behavior!!!

it’s funny because scott thinks he’s handling it the right way.

it’s how he was raised — it’s why he ended up in the working environment he did. his mother was a sweet woman, but his father was hard, never impressed, always pushing scott to achieve more. of course there were times he resented him for being so cold and unyielding, but he supposed he had him to thank for everything. now as a grown adult, scott saw himself in his old man, rearing his ugly head when least expected.

you’d come home to scott, all wired up and manic looking for a distraction. the project you thought you’d been slaving over ended up bringing you your worst grade yet. it wasn’t failable, and you knew you’d be able to pull yourself back — but it was certainly a wake up call. you felt ashamed.

you’d mentioned it in passing to scott as you were toeing your shoes off, thinking that if you treated it as a casual thing, it would be less damning. you were known to work hard, and you’d hate if scott thought any less of you. if there was anyone who’s opinion mattered to you over your professor, it was him.

“— and i’m gonna have to retake that class because i flopped so hard, anyway i had icecream for lunch—”

“hold on.” scott frowns, arms folded over his chest as he leans a shoulder against the wall, narrowing his eyes at you. “retake the class? explain.”

he makes note of the way you swallow and avoid his eyes as you gather up an excuse. “its fine, i failed the class. its fine.” you shrug a shoulder, and scott stares before shaking his head with a sigh.

“look — i told you, if you’re gonna be here all the time you can’t let it interfere with your projects. i think — i think it’s best if you start spending some weekends from home so you can get back on top of—”

“no!” you bark, eyes wide and desperate, which actually silences him in surprise. you are incredibly quick to adjust yourself, releasing a tense chuckle to let it be known that you were on your best behaviour, smile straining your cheeks and not quite meeting your eyes. “scott it’s not that serious, i swear. i’m passing all my other classes, this happens to everyone atleast once.” you figure your tone is reassuring enough, especially as he doesn’t follow you into the kitchen to make your daily green tea.

you spend a little longer than usual in the kitchen as you sip away at your drink, giving your boyfriend time to hopefully forget about the bad grade you received so you could potentially start the evening over, feeling things were a little chaotic. the hot liquid seems to soothe your nerves momentarily too, aiming to leave the day behind as you eventually slink out into the living room, eeking out your distraction as you join scott on the couch.

he’s watching some kind of documentary, naturally manspreading with that concentrated frown like a man much older than he was. you let a mischievous smile slip as you wriggle up to his side, stroking at his arm. this was nothing unusual from your usual behaviour, so scott doesn’t react — continuing on with his show.

“scotty.” you breathe in his ear, beginning to dot kisses gently along his jawline.

“hm?”

“missed you. needed daddy all day.” you pout as a manicured hand rises to rest on his broad chest before sliding slowly down his stomach toward his belt. you nearly jump out of your skin when he grabs your wrist and moves it away.

“no.” he hums, voice low. you blink your wide eyes at him in confusion — maybe you were just spoilt, because it wasn’t often you heard that word so firmly.

“huh?”

it’s only then scott looks at you, raising his eyebrows. “you think i’m gonna reward you for failing a class? you know, if i had been you — i’d already be at the desk with my laptop out, getting to work so i don’t fail my class again.” he’s stern, and whilst you’re used to his blunt ways you’re stunned by how cruel he was being. to him, he wanted the best for you and this was how he showed it in the moment, but to you it was the ultimate rejection.

it’s unnoticeable to the human eye, but he softens when you’re so quick to submit without argument despite his words, bashfully climbing off the couch to silently grab your bag and head to the bedroom where scott’s desk was. he watches you go, arms crossed — before he sighs, closing his eyes. that wasn’t him, it was his father. you didn’t deserve that.

he thinks up what to say to you, standing up to retrieve you approximately seven minutes later. he finds you at the desk where he suggested, laptop open on an empty document, crying quietly into your hands. scott closes his eyes for a moment, taking a breath before starting towards you.

“hey. hey.” his voice is quiet as he scoops you off the chair, replacing you with himself as he cradles you on his lap. “c’mon.” he whispers, feeling you wrack with another silent sob into your hands.

“i’m sorry.” you squeak.

“you don’t have to be sorr—”

“you’re disappointed in me. i’m disappointed in me too i just wanted to forget for a few hours.” you cry like a baby, stripped down to your most vulnerable self and his jaw clenches, mad that he was the one to upset you like this. this relationship shit was harder than it looked.

“hey i’m not, okay? i’m not. i was… hard on you because i think you can be great. okay? i think you are great. most talented girl i know. i don’t wanna get in the way of that, you know?” his large hand slides up your back to pull you closer and he feels you nod.

“i know. i’m sorry i get so upset about stupid stuff. i tried to be a big girl about it. i tried to… start—” you pull away to gesture to the empty document and he breathes out a chuckle, pulling you back to his chest.

“i know. i see… and it’s not stupid. i was mean. you should have kicked my ass.” he shakes his head but hears you giggle against his shirt, likely staining it with tears and mascara.

“next time.” comes out muffled.

“great.” he sarks before pulling you back to mop up your face, trying not to grimace at any snot or drool as he swipes it away with his thumb. “look. get started on… all this tomorrow. i’ll help in any way i can. what do you need right now? hm?” he jogs you on his lap with his knee once to signify that he wants a verbal and decisive answer. you press your lips together, glancing down at his belt once more. “oh yeah?” he confirms in that deep voice that makes between your legs ooze. “still after that?”

you nod, and he squeezes you hip. “alright. i think i can provide.”

[pascalislove]

The Call: Han Jeong-Won x Fem Reader!!~2

Summary: Your arrival would change everything, even if Jeong-Won didn't know it yet.

The New Marriage meeting room was impeccably decorated, with elegant sofas and large windows that let in the soft afternoon light. Y/N arrived early, nervous but determined. Loki was left at home, probably tearing apart his favorite cushion while she prepared for one of the strangest meetings of her life.She smoothed out the simple blue dress she was wearing and took a deep breath.

—One year. Just one year, Y/N. You can do this, right? —she whispered to herself. Before he could completely calm his thoughts, the door opened with a sharp click. Han Jeong-Won entered with confident steps, dressed in an impeccable black suit that highlighted his slender but imposing figure. His expression was cold, and his dark eyes barely bothered to look directly at her. “You must be Y/N,” he said bluntly, his tone dripping with disdain. Y/N jumped to her feet, extending her hand with a natural smile. “Yes, nice to meet you, Mr. Han.” He looked at her outstretched hand as if it were a nuisance and sat down without shaking it. —Don't waste time on unnecessary formalities. This is just business, not a romantic date. Y/N's heart faltered at the shock of those words, but she kept her smile intact. -Understood. —She sat in front of him, crossing her legs elegantly—. —What exactly do you expect from this contract? —Jeong-Won leaned back on the couch, watching her with a mixture of annoyance and distrust. Don't interfere in my life. I need you for social events, business meetings and occasionally to show my ex-wife that I am happy. Other than that, I don't want unnecessary questions or conversations. —Y/N blinked, surprised by the coldness of his tone. I had expected him to be reserved, but this bordered on rude. "It sounds simple," he replied with a forced smile. Although if we're going to pretend we're happy, maybe we should get to know each other a little, don't you think? —Jeong-Won gave a dry, humorless laugh. —Know each other? Don't make me laugh. I don't need to know you to pretend.Just do what I ask and everything will be fine. —Y/N felt her patience begin to wane, but she reminded herself why she was there: the money. That contract could solve many of their problems. “Very well, Mr. Han.” His tone was firm but still polite. I hope this is a mutually beneficial arrangement. Jeong-Won looked at her for a long moment, as if assessing whether she could stand his presence for a year. —That remains to be seen. He stood up without saying goodbye and left the room, leaving Y/N with a mix of disbelief and defiance shining in her eyes. —“Wow,” she muttered to herself as she picked up her bag. I think I just met the most insufferable human on the planet. But Y/N wasn't the type to give up easily. If Han Jeong-Won thought he could scare her with his icy attitude, he was very wrong.

Habrán notado que no sigo la trama de la serie, díganme si les gusta🫶 Diganme si quieren que los etiquete en la siguiente parte.

THE CALL MASTERLIST

[fandomnerd9602]

Hypothesis

Nerdy!Natasha Romanoff x Geek!Reader

Avengers High

Attraction has long been defined as when two opposite forces were brought together. In the case of Natasha Romanoff, a shy, introverted nerd at Avengers High, she was still looking for her opposite half.

No one really noticed her as she moved down the hallways of the high school campus. To most she was a face that blended in. She didn’t stand out to anyone. Well she did stand out to you.

She was your best friend. Calm, kind, and loving, you always saw the diamond that she always was. Her heart spoke volumes to yours. You were a geek, always obsessed with Star Wars or James Bond. There is a difference between geeks and nerds. But yet Natasha was always by your side for hangouts after school.

Natasha, despite all the logic, all the incalculable data that she had about chemistry with another person, found her heart fluttering each time you watched a Bond movie with her. Each time you smiled. Every time you cheered her up when the popular gals looked down on her or called her ugly duckling.

“It’s not calculable! The data doesn’t work!” Natasha bemoaned to her lab partner, Maria.

“What?” Maria groans, “is this about your love equation?”

“My equation of total compatibility.” Natasha answered back. “I ran simulations of Steve and I and then of Y/N and I.”

“And?” Maria looks with a bemused grin.

“It says Steve and I should be compatible but I don’t feel anything when I’m near him.”

“And (Y/N)?” Maria smirks.

“It says we have zero compatibility but yet…” Natasha huffs. “I-I think I’m in love with my best friend.”

“Oh Nattie,” Maria chuckles, “love isn’t something you quantify or try to put some equation to. Maybe what need is to test your hypothesis”

“Test? How?”

“Find out if you get sparks or butterflies when you kiss (Y/N)”

“But what if I screw up the only good friendship I have?!” Natasha nearly shouts in the middle of physics class.

“What if it becomes something amazing?” Maria asks, leaving the topic at that.

It was a dangerous game: testing such a hypothesis. On one hand, if her equation was accurate, she might lose your friendship. And if it was proven false, then she’d lose a bit of credibility, at least in her own eyes.

Such a hypothesis test came that night as you and her were watching an old James Bond movie on your couch.

“Geez how does James end up with all these girls?” Natasha asked jokingly.

“Maybe he’s secretly an alien with a powerful pheromone level?” You shrugged.

Natasha paused the movie and turned to you. “I need your help.”

“Sure! What’s up?” You flashed her a quick smile.

“I-I need to test something.” She bit her lip nervously. “Just close your eyes”

You happily obeyed. Natasha leaned in and kissed your lips. The mere touch sent sparks and shivers up and down her whole body.

Your eyes shot open. It was perfect.

Natasha pulled back a blushing, stuttering mess of a teenager. “I-I…umm…wow”

“Yeah. Wow.” You smiled, giggling a little too. “So how was your hypothesis?”

“I’m so happy to prove my equation of compatibility wrong.” She giggles.

“Maybe us being friends interferes with it somehow.” You smirked. “Maybe requires further testing.”

Hypothesis are usually proven or disproven thru various tests, Natasha thought.

“Further testing is required,” she giggles before jumping into your lap, kissing you repeatedly.

Natasha Romanoff. She was your best friend, your favorite nerd. And the love of your life. You and her still kept resting whether or not her equation was correct or not. The equation was put thru tests of dating, proposal, marriage, and eventually children.

Natasha was never more happy than to disprove her own hypothesis of compatibility. You and her, despite the data, were just perfect for each other.

Tags: @aloneodi @abimess @lifespectator @russianredassassin @revanshand @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @multi-fandom-enjoyer @jacenradio7 @scarletquake-n7 @supercorpdanbeau @iiconicsfan25 @iamnicodemus

[oh-no-its-bird]

Normal 'Izuna survives' au but he gets isekaid into canon founders era and doesn't notice for a week (everyone is convinced he's a ghost)

He literally lives in the same house as Madara but Madara acts like this is normal bc hes been hallucinating so this is clearly just another hallucination

He only realizes smthn is wrong with Tobirama sees him and immediatley goes "what the FUCK" and suddenly everyone is going "oh god you can see him too????"

Izuna is on a quest to convince people he's not a hallucination (it's a losing battle)

Realistically tho, in that era, wouldn't it be more believable that Izuna is a ghost / somehow came back to life than fucking dimension travel?

Cearly the ghost of Izuna just doesn't realize hes died (common enough in ghost lore)

Tobirama is the only one who believes Izuna bc he has the brain cells to think ab dimension travel / time and space jutsu

POV Madara starts to convince Izuna he's actually a ghost. Maybe... he did die? And he just doesn't remember?? Oh god is he a ghost??? Is he dead????

Tobirama is standing by watching this shit happen with a look of disgust on his face (I'm sorry Tobi the stupidity is genetic)

Madara really said gaslight gatekeep girlboss, starting with yourself first

@beatriceportinari :

hashirama is trying to be compassionate and get him to move on and izuna just. stays there (bc he's not a ghost)

hsrm so desolate abt it

tbrm he won't move on 😦 what if he's stuck forever 😦

SORRY IM JUST PICTURING LIKE HASHIRAMA AND MADARA DOING A FULL EXORCISM LIKE OUTFITS AND SAGE BURNING AND HITTING THE DRUMS AND ALL AS IZUNA STANDS IN THE MIDDLE OF THEM LIKE 🧍‍♂️

Tobirama is standing nearby watching this shit happen fully aware Izuna isn't dead but no one will listen to him so !!! Might as well watch the show

@fashionredalert :

Izuna standing there like

Tweak it slightly to turn it into a happy ending where they get to keep him bc he eventually has to go back home: there was no dimension travel, for some reason he survived or was revived (zetsu interference gone wrong?? Or right ig, for Izuna)

IT LOOKS LIKE HES WAITING PATIENTLY FOR IT TO WORK PLS

@mengfm :

He fr came back to life/survived but everyone's convinced he's a ghost and are trying to lay him back to rest

The idea of people trying to re bury him is so funny. Left and right he’s trying to avoid having funeral rights just said to him

@beatriceportinari :

PLS YESS

montage where they make him lay down in a coffin and he's just laying there fidgeting like "this feels weird is it working yet"

noooo asdfghjh he's letting them do it'

maybe i should be dead yeah' izuna!!!

@mengfm :

"No I saw you die"

"Ok convincing argument I guess" -Izuna, apparently

@fashionredalert :

I know there’s that trope about the Uchiha burning the bodies with funeral rites could you image…Bro having to run away from Madara trying to burn him alive to lay him to rest again

@mengfm :

IZUNA GET ON THE FUNERAL PYRE

ITS TIME TO BURN!!!

@fashionredalert :

Izuna running through the village with rope ties around his hands as he runs

ZUNA STOP SCREAMING AND LET THE FIRE DO ITS JOB

"IZUNA COME BACK!!"

THEY TRY TO DO IT BUT IZUNA GETS TWITCHY AS THE FLAMES DRAW CLOSER THEN JUMPS OFF THE PIRE

"NO I CHANGED MY MIND"

"THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD"

Madara is chasing Izuna through the streets with a lit torch as Izuna screams about wanting to try a different way and Madara screams about how it'll work if he just STAYS STILL

@instant-bull :

(Hashirama looks out his window and asks Tobirama if he just saw Izuna running through the streets and Tobirama tells him to stop making shit up to get out of work)

@mengfm :

JSDNJNFSDJNSDFKSNDJF HASHIRAMA THIS WON'T SAVE YOU FROM THE PAPERWORK

That’s just a lack of sleep hallucination back to work!!!

@instant-bull :

Madara trying to burn his brother alive isn’t real!

"You'll get used to them" Tobirama waved his hand, the years of insomnia experience making him sound particularly knowledgable

@mengfm

Hashirama’s already moukoton scrambled brain is going to feel even more insane. This is not helping his sanity

@instant-bull

Hashirama starts to believe he sees into some alternate timeline or the past or whatever that shit was

HASHIRAMA ON HIS OWN INSANITY KICK BELIEVING HE CAN SEE INTO ALTERNATE TIMELINES

The ending is literally just Tobirama hitting everyone over the head with a rolled up newspaper and yelling that they're all stupid, going "HES alive. YOURE not hallucinating. and YOU can not see into other dimensions!"

Only sane person in Konoha

(Then in the epilogue he goes home and has his own regular hallucinations of his dead brothers)

Parts of todays AU are brought to u with the help of @instant-bull @mengfm @fashionredalert and @beatriceportinari, everyone say thank you to them

[biancadoes1]

I have a very long theory about the timeline and also L’s friends and family and what they know/knew while it was happening, and why things may have played out they way they did. (Not anything that violates their privacy, just some speculation about how things could have gone down that I think explains some things.)

I have been thinking most of this for a while, but that anon you had a while back claiming to work with a member of L’s family and what they were saying about N&L got me thinking. They may have just been a random person trolling, but I went back and read their previous post, and it seemed to imply the following:

L was in love with N, and wanted to date post filming, but N didn’t want to

L then got with A instead, and she became integrated into his friends and family group and they all liked her

All of this actually lines up with some fandom theories about what happened post-season 3, that they caught feelings and lines were blurred (L’s worlds about the blurring of lines, plus we’ve all seen the bts) and N wanted to take some time to separate from characters and make sure things were real. We’ve also speculated that L was hurt by whatever happened with N post-filming, and if that is the case could have caused his friends and family to be upset with N for the pain that he was experiencing. (My theory is that he was a fucking wreck if this is what happened because his feelings for N are anything but casual, and his friends and family had to deal with that/put him back together.) Don’t forget that L was also dealing with the end of a long term relationship almost simultaneously to “losing” Nic who I also think he had feelings for from day one, and I think everyone probably knew that his feelings for N had likely impacted/ended his relationship with J, and now N was stepping back from a relationship with him at that time, leaving him a mess.

So let’s say all of this has happened, and L went off the rails and swore off N, had his HBS and jumped into something with A (maybe with R’s help) and she made him feel better/boosted his confidence and he integrated her quickly into his life and his friends and family were all happy that he seemed happy and stable, and then… reshoots/press/tour happened.

I think N&L realized very quickly after reuniting that they still had feelings for each other and decided to move forward with a serious relationship because they knew they were it for each other, but they kept it a big secret even from people very close to them, and especially from anyone L knew wouldn’t be supportive or would try to talk him out of it after all that had gone on. He didn’t bring them into the circle, so they didn’t know what was going on. All they saw was what we saw, which is the interviews and press they were doing, which could be played off as PR, but they were also probably concerned about how close they were getting again. This could be why his sister/family seemed to be involved with A coming to the premiere to interfere what seemed to be happening, because everyone was concerned about him getting personally involved with N again and the impact that could have on him. The interaction with N was orchestrated to remind her that A was still there and mark her territory/intimidate her. L was reportedly upset/had an altercation with A at that event, and I think that after party N&L hug was her comforting him. However was also see him being very territorial about N at the same event, maybe because was worried about losing her again/it felt precarious/he is a person who needs a lot of reassurance, especially after the last time, and I think because N might have withdrawn from him or acted different because A was there and that made him feel insecure.

By this point I think N&L had already decided to get married and L had proposed (Australia Truther/down on the knee part one.) Ring was ordered and a backstory created for it to hide the truth until they were ready to share. They were engaged when N jokingly proposed in Italy. She starts posting the “boyfriend” pics. Press tour continues and so does the charade. In Ireland, L meets/asks permission from N’s family and the offical proposal happens (Down on the knee part two). Everyone’s emotional when L meets her mom but N’s bro in law is still a little skeptical/protective about the situation and the fact they L still had this situationship on the side/his family doesn’t know yet. They are both emotional about the tour ending and L tears up when N mentions that they (C&P??) will be married when they return to set.

They plan to separate for the summer so that L can handle business on his end. By the London radio interviews, N is starting to get emotional and withdraw a bit because the tour is ending and she knows what’s coming. He tried to comfort/reassure her but the situation sucks all around. Since their relationship is a secret, their communication will be limited, but as long as she is wearing the ring, he know she is still in and waiting for him (song lyrics), which he needs after what happened last time. She plans to hint at a relationship with JD to help conceal the truth, a friend but someone L will not feel worried/jealous about but will help provide some cover.

By the London premiere, everyone on L’s side is super concerned at where this is going, and someone or maybe multiple people close to L conspire for the pap walk to occur. I think some members of L’s professional team might have been in the group if people who were not supportive of a N&L relationship and/or didn’t know about it and participated thinking it would be a good move for his image to be seen as dating A or separate professionally from N.

L still has professional/personal commitments with A and his friend group, which he carried out, but he was anxious and miserable the whole time. I think the Spain trip was part of this/before Sorrento. I hope at some point he told A and his friends the truth, but an NDA may have needed to be involved to keep her and the friend group from going scorched earth and spilling all of the tea. At some point, maybe Italy, L susses out who has been violating his privacy and severs some ties/comes clean/runs home to Nic.

I assume at some point he told his family but that it is still very under wraps and only a small circle knows the truth. Going back to that anon, some people (extended family) may still not know the truth and be very confused and judgemental about what they are seeing in the media (N&JD relationship speculation, N appearing to run around with a younger man after rejecting L).

August: Chaos week, bless the telephone, Drink Your Milk pic. I think they reunited and L was staying with N while A found other housing arrangements (she was either living with L previously or staying there was he was on tour and he had to deal with that.

Talk Talk while flashing the ring…

Sometime this fall, I believe they got married and it was very small and intimate. Rings changed hands, she put one on his finger too, and they’ve been quietly staying out of the public eye. He’s been supporting her from behind the scenes and being her Ken while deciding what is next for him professionally (musical theatre?). They’ve started filming for season 3 as Polin and are emotional about all that has transpired since the end of S3 filming (tears in their eyes in the S4 Polin pic) or perhaps about what they are filming or what is next for them and taking some time to enjoy their marriage privately before sharing it with the rest of the world.

That’s my version of this friends to lovers story based on the crumbs we’ve received, and as Luke would say “it seems appropriate.”

No notes.

What do you guys think?

Edit: after re-reading this anon really has me 👀

Edit after the edit: there is mention of family in this post - I don’t want to see anything negative about them in the discussion. Negative comments will be deleted and I will not accept asks speaking specifically about them.

Their families are not part of this ship.

[ledesaid]

Billy body-swaps #5

╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║

Billy feels a little guilty.

Just a little.

He can still sleep and all that, but the seed of guilt is already taking root.

He hasn't done anything... wrong?

Is omitting bad?

Batman seems to omit many things and still is a hero, right?

Enough with the thoughts!

Batman: Is the plan clear?

A hand was raised.

Billy: I didn't understand most of it...

He can swear he heard something about a bet in Hal and Barry's corner.

Batman: I expected something like this. Marvel, stay. The rest can start the incursion.

Hal: Wait, wait, Bats. Who is going to keep Doomsday at bay? Last time, it was a miracle he decided to leave on his own. Because I don't think you're going to send the kid, right?

Batman: I have a contingency plan for Superman's absence. It should be enough to hold the line for the next ten hours.

Billy: Can I have a say?

Everyone: No.

Billy shrinks into his chair, grumbling. If he had known he'd be treated like a child... maybe... maybe he'd have been more careful with Alfred and the truth pollen.

But he couldn't correct that fact...

However, the debate unfolding before his eyes might have a possible solution.

Billy: What if there is a way for me to jump before the ten hours?

Batman: Have you done it before?

Billy: No... not consciously. The first time I did it, it felt like riding a bike downhill, the pedals spinning out of control until I put my feet on them, and now the jump happens every two weeks. But there's a possibility...

The cloud of thoughts made him shiver, he was about to do something foolish, he knew it would have consequences he didn't want, but this was important, the world was in danger...

Billy: You must promise me you won't interfere when everything goes back to normal...

Wonder Woman: Don't worry, Marvel. We're here to help and support you. We're the good guys.

Billy: That's what worries me... can you promise that?

It's quick. The silent conversation brings more serious expressions... he suspects it has something to do with Martian Manhunter... a conversation to which he is not invited.

Batman: We trust you. Trust us.

Billy: Barry, go to Earth, find the abandoned Fawcett station, it's line fifteen... the entrance is blocked, but there's a grate through which you should be able to enter the underground on line twelve, that entrance is under the main bridge in front of the large Fawcett bank...

The silence became heavy, but the words had dried up... he didn't want to say more... he was scared.

Barry: Buddy, Do you have something there that can help us?

Billy: You're going to find a... boy, sleeping in the abandoned wagon...

This last bit came out with pain. Batman, at some point, had moved and placed his hand on Superman's shoulder.

Batman: Bring him, Barry.

Billy: If we can wake me up... we might have Superman before Doomsday returns.

Heavens, thought Billy, if this was about making tough decisions... being a hero is harder than he expected.

-------

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | U are here | Part 6

[fluentmoviequoter]

Confessions of a SWAT Team

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You and Deacon fell in love with each other, but didn't tell anyone. When officers closer to your age begin flirting with you, Deacon grows distant and won't tell you why.

Warnings: angst, fluff, age gap (not specific but I imagined ~15-20 years, so reader would be late 20s?), Deacon is protective, some arguing, mentions of insecurity, reader is somewhat shy, I used the term "suicide bomber" once in passing. Luca, Street, and Hondo meddle. I think that's all!

Word Count: 2.9k+ words

Requested Here!

Picture from Pinterest

Falling in love with Deacon Kay was easy. Telling anyone, including the man himself, is not so easy.

Deacon Kay never considered the idea of skydiving to be scary… until he found himself falling head over heels for you, the newest recruit. When you walked in on your first day, confident of your skills yet willing to learn your place in the team and receive feedback, he felt something new. You were quiet and reserved, willing to learn, and each time he complimented your skills or offered an idea to make something easier or for improvement, you opened up a bit more. More than attraction, there was a deep need to get to know you, to protect you, to stay close to you, and, later, to hide his biggest secret from you and everyone else. Deacon Kay was falling in love but knew it was wrong.

At the end of your probationary period, you and Deacon have a deep connection, secrets and all. His need to stay close and protect you has only strengthened with time, but every time he looks at you, sees your youth, and pictures the bright future you could have, he tries to silence his heart and listen to his mind. You’re too young and could do so much better, he thinks.

Two months into working with 20 David, you were trapped face-to-face with a suicide bomber. With no protection and no escape route, you maintained a brave act while hoping, praying, that your gear would keep you alive. With three seconds left on the detonator countdown, you feel someone wrap their arms around you as their shoulder blocks your face. The force of the explosion knocks you backward, twisting in your savior’s arms to land on top of Deacon. You feel the pressure build in your eyes as you yell at him never to do that again. He can never know, but his protectiveness scares you because it puts him directly in harm’s way.

After the bombing incident, Deacon gets closer. He puts himself between you and gunfire, taking several shots to his Kevlar while leading you to safety. During a raid with narcotics, a cartel leader jumps on top of you, and you struggle for the upper hand until Deacon hauls him off of you, finishing the fight on your behalf. After Deacon protects you, he always takes you back to the station, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as he leads you somewhere private. He tends to your wounds and reminds you that he’s always there if you need to talk.

You want to talk to him more than anything, but Deacon is a Sergeant II, and he’s older than you, and, most importantly, he likely frowns upon inter-team relationships. So, you bottle everything up. Forever.

“You think he’ll ever tell her?” Street asks as Deacon walks out, close enough to you that your hands brush with every step.

“He hasn’t even told us,” Luca points out.

“Maybe we should do something.”

“Their relationship is theirs, guys,” Hondo interjects. “We shouldn’t interfere. Yet.”

Street and Luca smile at the thought of intervening in the future and seeing their teammates happy. They know Deacon is single-handedly responsible for breaking you out of your shell, but they’d like to see it go one step further.

✯✯✯✯✯

“She’s gorgeous,” someone says.

Deacon’s brow furrows as he hears voices grow louder. He tries to focus on the computer before him, looking for blueprints for an entry raid.

“Care for a friendly bet?” a second voice asks.

Several young officers dressed in street clothes stop beside the door where Deacon is working. He can see them, but they haven’t noticed him yet. His focus wavers when he thinks he hears your name.

“Of course, we’re still talking about her,” the first guy answers.

Deacon’s focus shifts completely, turning to face them. They’re close to your age and attractive, but what bothers him most is how easily they discuss their attraction to you.

“If you suggest a ‘first one to get a date with her’ bet, I’m out.”

“I was thinking more we see whose pickup line lands better, then we let her choose. She’s not a prize, she’s a person.”

Yet you’re planning to use her as an object in a bet, Deacon thinks.

“Were you at the range yesterday afternoon? She was there. I can’t believe how good she is. 20 David is lucky.”

“For more reasons than one.”

Deacon clenches his jaw as they walk away, still comparing what they've seen of your shooting and fighting skills. He watches you in awe, too, but they have a shot to get close to you.

“Focus,” he whispers to himself, facing the computer.

“Hey, Deac,” you call as you enter. “Hondo wanted to know if you found the property record? Although, I’m still arguing that this is a waste of your talents.”

You stop beside him, leaning against the desk and smiling at him.

“Uh, yeah,” Deacon answers, trying to look anywhere but at your beautiful eyes. “I got it.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great. Let’s go.”

You nod slowly before following him out. Two men call your name, and you look over, tilting your head as they beckon you over.

“I’ll be right there, Deac,” you tell him, tapping his shoulder twice.

He nods, watching silently as you walk to them. They smile as they say something quiet enough that he can’t hear. There’s a small smile on your face, and Deacon thinks you’re introducing yourself.

Pointless, he thinks, they know more about you than they should. Not as much as me, though.

The thought catches Deacon off guard, and when he looks back up, the taller officer is openly flirting with you. You laugh and push a stray piece of hair behind your ear. Deacon missed his chance. He walks away while you continue smiling at them, seemingly enjoying their flirtations.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’re uncomfortable; these officers are 1) flirting with you while you’re still working and 2) way too young and immature for you. Forcing a laugh and moving your hand to your hair nervously, you glance over and only see Deacon’s back as he leaves.

“Well, I’ve got to go,” you blurt out, interrupting the worst pickup line you’ve ever heard, “but it was nice to meet you.”

“Oh, okay. We’ll see you around?” one asks.

“I’m sure we will, we work in the same building,” you answer before realizing that it sounds a little too much like an invitation to come talk to you again.

Rushing to follow Deacon, you enter an office behind him, and Hondo immediately starts talking. You stand by Deacon, but he doesn’t look over and roll his eyes at Hondo’s bad analogies like usual. Fiddling with your fingers, you try to focus but wonder what happened. He could have a lot on his mind, or maybe you did something wrong. You decide to give it some time and hope that it passes.

20 David spends the afternoon training, and when you get in the ring with Deacon, you expect it to go as usual. Typically, you throw a few punches and have to beg Deacon to fight back and make it fair. However, today, Deacon has no problem immediately giving you a full-force hit. You step back and catch yourself before returning the hit. You lose the sparring round, and Deacon climbs out without a glance in your direction.

When you see him later while preparing to go home for the night, you stay quiet. Part of you hopes he’ll yell at you or something - anything to acknowledge you, but nothing happens.

“Goodnight,” you say as Deacon leaves the locker room.

He nods without looking at you. Your heart feels like it’s in pieces on the locker room floor, and you take a deep breath before gathering your things to go home.

“Heading out?” Luca asks as he walks in. You nod, and he adds, “We’re going out for a little bit, want to come?”

“No thanks,” you say quietly, closing your locker gently. “See you tomorrow.”

Street opens the door from the other side and holds it, his smile falling as you duck your head and rush past him.

“What happened?” he asks Luca.

“Deacon,” he answers.

“Want to tell me why Deacon is slamming doors?” Hondo asks when Luca and Street exit.

“Is it just Deacon?” Luca asks knowingly.

“Should we do something now? That distance isn’t safe in the field and if she’s nervous around him…” Street trails off.

“We may have to. She’s not the only emotional one, though. Deac looked a little green on his way out,” Hondo responds.

“What now?”

“Let’s see how tomorrow goes. We have the gala tomorrow night, so something needs to happen. And soon.”

✯✯✯✯✯

 Sitting on your couch, you replay every event of the day. Obviously, you did something wrong, which is why Deacon is so eager for space between you. The only ‘bad’ thing that happened before he changed was the officers flirting with you, but you were still on time, so you didn’t do anything wrong.

If Deacon wants space, you’ll give it to him. It’s the least you can do.

The garment bag in your bathroom catches your attention, and you cross your fingers that the gala is enjoyable and not an evening spent avoiding and being avoided by the one man you’d like to dance with.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, brother, you clean up nice,” Hondo taunts as Deacon approaches.

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” Deacon replies, a small smile tugging at his lips. He glances around but doesn’t find what, or who, he’s looking for.

“She’s not here yet,” Street says.

“What?”

Hondo shakes his head, and Street takes his cue, excusing himself to let Hondo and Deacon talk.

“What happened between you two?” he inquires.

“Me and Street?”

Hondo rolls his eyes before looking pointedly at Deacon. “You’re jealous.”

Deacon’s eyes stray from Hondo, locking on something behind him. Turning his head, Hondo laughs when he sees what is more worthy of his friend’s attention.

✯✯✯✯✯

Stepping into the large ballroom, you barely have time for a full breath before the officers from earlier sidle up to you and begin talking. You smile politely and nod, not listening to what they’re saying, as you scan the venue for Deacon. When you find him, he’s standing beside Hondo. Hondo steps away, and Deacon’s eyes lock on yours, his brown eyes wide as his jaw clenches. The eye contact doesn’t last long; Deacon turns his back to you and disappears into the crowd. Your heart and smile fall, so the men surrounding you switch tactics, openly complimenting you, though most of it doesn’t affect you in the slightest.

“Excuse me,” you mutter quietly, pushing between them to follow Deacon.

You deserve an explanation, and you’re going to get one. It takes a few minutes, but you find Deacon standing in front of a fireplace in what appears to be a private office off the back hallway.

“Deac?” you ask, wringing your fingers in front of your stomach.

Deacon doesn’t turn around, but he can see you in his mind (not that you ever leave), with your hair styled beautifully, an outfit that flatters you in every way, and glassy eyes and glossy lips. No matter what you’re wearing, street clothes, your uniform, or formal wear for a police gala, you always look perfect to Deacon. Tonight, though, you’re practically begging to be kissed breathless, to be adored, and if he looks at you, he won’t be able to restrain himself.

“What did I do?”

The question presents your insecurity and shyness, which take Deacon back to your first month when you could barely look him in the eye, and your answers had a five-word maximum. He rubs his hand down his face, hearing you shift behind him.

“Please tell me what I did to make you do this,” you plead.

“You didn’t do anything, I’m just working through some things,” he answers carefully, his back to you. “No big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal then why am I losing you over it?” you snap, your growing anger overpowering your sadness and nervousness.

“You’re not losing me,” Deacon says, sighing.

“It sure feels like it, David.”

You never use his first name, and the moment Deacon hears it, he turns around. He sees you and loses some of his jealousy and anger but says what he needs to anyway.

“I just needed some space to think,” he replies. “Is that wrong?”

“Needing space to think and avoiding me are two different things.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you-“

“Then why did you leave? Why haven’t you said more than fifteen words to me in the last two days?”

“Why didn’t you talk to me at first?” he asks, his voice rising slightly. He regrets the question immediately but can’t apologize before you speak again.

“If this is what talking to you is going to be like from now on, maybe I never should have started,” you admit, dropping your head as tears gather at your waterline.

“You don’t mean that,” Deacon says quietly.

“Just tell me why. Tell me the truth.”

Deacon doesn’t say anything, and you bite your bottom lip as you think. Deacon wants nothing more than to grab your face, tug your lip free, and kiss you until you don’t talk to him, not because he created a rift between you but because he steals your breath. You’re all he’s ever wanted and more, but the idea still terrifies him. The rejection alone could kill him, but having to see you at work would be worse.

“If you want me to join another team or something, tell me,” you demand. “But I deserve to know why you decided I wasn’t worth the lack of space.”

Deacon’s eyes race to find yours. “This is not about your worth,” he answers, anger spilling through. Not at you, though; at himself, at the situation he put you in, and at those officers who have a chance at what he craves most.

“Then why are you acting like you hate being near me?”

“Because I cannot lose another person I love!” he yells.

You freeze, unable to form a reply. Deacon takes a deep breath when he realizes what he confessed. Your silence is worse than yelling at him.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“I love you too,” you whisper, a single tear breaking free when you smile. “I’m in love with you.”

Deacon steps forward, closing the physical and emotional gap. Taking your left hand, he raises his to wipe your tears. His hand lingers by your face as you smile up at him.

“I was jealous,” he explains. “Those cops were flirting with you yesterday and you looked happy. They’re closer to your age and you have more in common. It made sense for you to go for them, not me.”

“Deacon, I was uncomfortable, not happy. I turned around to find you and you were gone and then you just kept getting further away. I want you, Deacon Kay. No one else.”

“Care to dance with me?” he asks quietly.

“I’d love to. I’ve been wanting to all week,” you answer.

His smile grows, drawing your attention to his eyes as he leads you back to the ballroom. You don’t see any members of your team as you walk onto the dance floor. Deacon leads, letting you lean on him again, something you missed in the short time it was gone. The song ends, and you straighten, preparing to pull away.

“I want you too,” Deacon says. “But I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

“Then don’t,” you encourage, smiling as you tap his hand twice.

Deacon smiles and pulls his hands from yours, cupping your face and kissing you without hesitation. You slide your hands up his chest to rest under his lapel. Deacon feels your heart race, his thumb against the pulse point below your jaw, but his beats steadily below your hand. With each of Deacon’s movements, more of your breath, more of your life, more of you becomes his.

“Aye, Deac!” Luca yells from the crowd. “Way to go!”

“About time!” Street adds, leading a round of applause from the entire LAPD.

Deacon pulls back from you, smiling when you hide your face against his neck. He sees the flirty cops from earlier awkwardly clapping with the crowd. His hand rubs up and down your back, glad that everyone, you included, knows that you’re his and he is yours.

“Told you,” Hondo teases as he walks to Deacon’s side. “Green ain’t your color.”

“He only means figuratively, you look good in everything,” you mumble against his skin.

“Want to get out of here?” Deacon asks, his hands still on your back as he holds you against him.

“Please,” you reply, tapping his chest twice.

He leads you out, stopping you after you’re outside.

“Why do you tap me twice?” Deacon asks gently, his arm around your waist and his jacket over your shoulders.

“It’s the only way I could tell you without actually saying it,” you say with a shrug.

“Say what?”

“That I love you.”

Deacon smiles, tapping your waist twice as he moves you to stand closer to him.

His lips meet yours again, and when your hands reach his jaw, you’re not sure where you end or Deacon begins, and it’s perfect. Deacon Kay was easy to fall in love with, easy to be in love with, and he was absolutely worth the wait.

[janecea8]

hehe hii *eats writing*

can i request a step 1 jealous qiu x gn!mc that has an obvious crush on baxter and just follows him around?

I love your writing please don’t die 😔🙏🏼

Jealous Qiu × gn!MC with crush on Baxter.

step 1. enjoy!

— Qiu was used to people liking him. It's just how it is - he had never really questioned it. Usually all people around him want to become his friends. who wouldn't want to hang out with Qiu Lin? That's right, no one!

— You made him feel a bit more interested in you than in anybody else, so he expected this feeling to be mutual. But you were different, so different that it was able to frustrate Qiu by you being not so interested in him, and imagine his surprise when you expressed even more disinterest in his company after meeting Baxter. it made him think about this.

— At first he was thinking it was temporary due to Baxter being a new acquaintance, then thought you were really just busy to hang out with him. When this continued further, Qiu began to not quite understand.

— He didn't even know why he was so fixated on this, but everytime he saw you forgetting about him when Baxter is around, he bites his inner cheek and looks kind of hurt at you for a couple of seconds. or when you constantly walk with Baxter, seeming to look at him with heart-shaped eyes, Qiu only sighs sadly and frowns, even if recovers quickly. Qiu does not really tolerate this feeling in his chest, which makes him seem to shrink inside that his stomach aches.

— He didn't understand where this feeling came from, and he might even talk to his parents about it. Qiu basically experienced this for the first time, and only with you.

— He won't interfere you much though, he still cares enough about you two, so if you enjoy each other's company then be it! But, nevertheless, from time to time he will offer other options for spending time together, those that include Qiu himself. You refuse? Oh, then he'll be kinda sulky. Qiu wants your attention too.

— He can't help but wonder, why did you like Baxter so much? Was it about his looks? Or the fact that he is rich? Qiu can't boast of the latter, but he thinks he looks good too. Or do you like his mystery behaviour? Oh come on, Qiu can be mysterious even better! Just prefer Qiu's company over Baxter, and he'll be the most mysterious person in the history.

— He will try to get your attention in different ways. He will be the very first in the bike races, he will be the best in your favorite subject, he will be just the coolest kid out here, believe me! And Qiu is so unlikely to give up. Maybe he'll learn a few tricks on his bike or how to jump off his "hideout" even more epically.

— He will also try to talk to you on the advice of his parents. Qiu would be worried, not knowing how you would take it and how to tell you properly. He even prepared the speech in his notepad in advance. After all of this, you will solve this misunderstanding, right?

[senawashere]

Hi could I request something fluffy for Bradley? Maybe he comes home after a bit too many beers at the Hard Deck and is super needy just needs a bit of affection🤭 please take your time, and no rush! You can go wherever you want with this:)

We're on this together...(Chapter VII)

Summary: Cat is out of the bag.

A/n: It took a lot,sorry.. And thank you @promisingyounglady for thus request,i changed it a bit,hope you will like it!!!

Warnings: Infertility,mentions of miscarrige,mentions of hospital,mentions of getting pregnant,mentiones of ivf.Use of alcohol,arguing,use of bad languange. Not so angsty anymore🥹

September 11 2022

If there was one thing Bradley wanted, it was to spend the rest of his life with you.

If there was one thing Bradley definitely wanted, it was to have a family with you.

You wished he was more creative, more romantic, but when your period was late and you started feeling queasy about food, you took a pregnancy test and burst into tears when you saw the result.

You had been trying for this for years and you were exhausted.

Mental breakdowns, crying sessions, crises, fights, negative tests, negative doctor visits and more, it hurt a lot for years.

But one day everything changed.

That test that you were used to seeing as negative came back positive that day.

You were pregnant.

You wished you could create something to share the news with Bradley, but he came running to your screams, his eyebrows pinched together in distress and he ran into the bathroom with a frantic "Baby?!"

You were jumping, holding the test with tears streaming down your face, "We're going to be parents! Bradley, we're going to be parents!"

"What?!" Bradley screamed, his vision instantly blurring as he gasped for air and gasped for air, and he stood up to ground himself from the overwhelming emotions and pulled you to his chest, giving you a bone-crushing hug.

Another thing you'll remember forever.

°•°•°•

Of course you were smart enough to wait nine months, but you didn't expect Bradley to be so protective of you the moment he found out you were pregnant.

"Why are you using the kettle, baby? There's hot water in there."

"Oh no, honey, you're not taking Duke to the park by yourself."

"Don't sleep too close to the side, baby, come here, into my arms."

"What are you doing?! Hell no, you're not even going near the vacuum cleaner."

You could barely breathe as Bradley watched you, his body ready to interfere with you.

God forbid, because right now your baby is lying in your womb sipping on damn cocktails in your bladder.

“What happened? What happened?” Bradley woke up frantically, his sleepy eyes wide and his hair a mess as he leaned towards you.

“Baby, I’m just gonna pee.” you chuckled quietly.

He rubbed his eyes as he got out of bed, muttering, “Okay, let’s go.”

You sat down on the bed, looking at him in shock as he yawned and waited for you.

“Bradley, I’m seriously just gonna pee,” you said, before pointing to the bathroom, “Right there.”

Your husband’s arrogance made him look at you in confusion, “Yeah, I know. Come on then, let’s go and pee.”

You stood up, “I’m not gonna pee while you’re staring at me like a hawk.”

“Okay, I won’t look then.”

“Roo!”

“Whaaaat?” He shrugged at you as he dragged you to the bathroom, looking at you, “I just want to protect you and our baby.”

“I think that’s great, but baby,” you sighed, “Go back to bed and let me pee on my own, okay?”

He wasn’t sure, his eyebrows furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest in displeasure as he watched you step closer to him, wearing your fluffy slippers.

“Relax, cranky,” you teased, before pressing a kiss to his cheek and heading into the bathroom.

Brad, being Brad, sat on the bed, his eyes glued to the closed door, mentally prepared to rush you if you did so little as whimper.

But minutes later, you washed your hands, yawned, and rubbed your eyes before jumping on your waiting husband.

You shook your head and let out a laugh of disbelief, “I can’t believe you.”

Worse, Bradley wasn’t the only one constantly freaking out and protecting you from the world’s many terrible dangers, and more specifically, TV remotes, vacuum cleaners, and everything else that was going on around him.

But so was Duke.

The little—now big—pup was definitely his dad’s best friend, because Duke’s body had grown and he would be right next to you whenever a family member or friend got too close. If you were all sitting on the couch, Duke’s paw was always on your belly next to Bradley’s hand.

It was enough to make you wonder if Duke was even human.

Bradley shared the news with the squad when you were almost 3 months pregnant:

"She's over there!"

His voice was drowned out by the clinking of glasses and the heavy bass of the rock song playing through the crappy speakers in the corner of the room, but it was still unmistakable. His "greeting" was followed by shouts and howls from the rest of the group, many of whom raised their glasses in honor of your (late) arrival.

"My hot wife!"

Bradley, despite his drunkenness, smiled widely and greeted you protectively, as he had for the last few weeks – this time he removed your coat and purse, along with any bags or extra weight he had hanging on brass hooks underneath.

You scanned the bar table and his facial expression for any signs of displeasure or concern.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when he started "dad mode," his tendencies to go into overdrive, but it definitely started that rainy and cold Tuesday night in your shared bathroom as you sat leaning against the wall of the tub with three positive pregnancy tests.

“I wish you would stop calling me that, Brad,” you sneered as he helped you free your arms from your jacket. "One day you'll make a scene."

The drunk man chuckled.

"What can i say,baby?."

You nodded and rolled your eyes at his antics as you turned your attention towards to your soon to be husband and the man of the hour, intending to pull him in for quick hug and a kiss.

“Y/n!”

Despite the loud noise of the bar, you heard a familiar voice. You turned back to see Jake coming towards you both. Approaching Bradley first.

"Hello, birthday boy," Jake's voice was soft against the drunken slur that was beginning to take over Bradley.

"It's not nice of you to be late for my party,"

“Well sometimes traffic can be a pain in the ass,you know that. But here are my two favorite people standing together. Come give me a hug” he slurred, pulling both in rather roughly for a bone-crushing hug.

You managed to squeeze out a giggle between Jake's bone-crushing hug.

You saw Bradley stiffen out of the corner of his eye, as if saying, "Jeez calm down, dude. She's pregnant, for God's sake," or letting the interaction continue.

He knew he wasn't allowed to do the first one because you both agreed to wait until all your friends and family gathered at the same time to tell them the great news, so Bradley let Jake hug you. You hugged extra tight despite his unrealistic, dramatic concerns that he would crush his fragile body or somehow harm the baby. When he released you from his grasp, he made sure to send Jake a reassuring smile.

Your greeting to Penny and Natasha was short and sweet, both opting to kiss you on the cheek.

“Let me see it one more time,” Natasha’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper, over the chatter of the bar.

You felt the heat creep up your cheeks as she took your hand in hers to examine the ring on your fourth finger.

The ring was thin and gold, studded with a single, elegant but large diamond in the center.

“It's beautiful,” she whispered, marveling at the way the jewel floated even in the dim, tungsten glow of the bar.

You mumbled a quiet “thank you” before leading back to the other side of the table. You turned to where Bradley was waiting for you with his arms outstretched, a shit-eating grin on his face.

You caught the wind of tequila on his breath as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

You tasted it too, kissing his lips quickly and - oh my god, had he gained weight too? Or was he getting more bulkier? But he looked like a whole damn meal like this too.

"So okay?You did worry me when you said you were going to be late,are you okay now?" Bradley's question was asked in a low voice so only he could hear.

Bradley had been celebrating all day with Jake, Natasha, Javy, Mickey,Bob,Maverick and Penny so this was the first time he saw you since you kissed him and sent him off to work this morning.

You nodded and smiled, but your face made Bradley believe otherwise.

"I felt nauseous when I got home from the office. It took me a little longer to get out the door," he shrugged, implying that it wasn't a big deal but that he didn't feel 100 percent ready to party either.

“Baby,” Bradley half-scolded you, feeling a good portion of his hum leave his body when Y/N said she wasn’t feeling well. Clinging on you like a koala because of the alcohol in his veins.

"Why didn't you tell me you were not feeling good? I would come home and sit with you."

“I wasn't going to ask you to interrupt your best friend's birthday dinner just because I was vomiting for the umpteenth time this week,” you said sternly, making it clear that you were fine.

"I'm fine. I promise."

Bradley's jaw softened at your sentence, the muscles in his torso relaxing from their tense positions.

"Oh! Will you two stop whispering and get drunk with me?!" Jake shouted across the table, bursting the bubble that had temporarily surrounded the couple as both whispered about their sweet little secret they were dying to tell everyone.

“You,” Jake pointed a finger at Y/N’s head. “Don’t be shy. Now,” he pointed at the bartender who was making drinks at the opposite end of their table.

Both you and Bradley chuckled nervously, not sure how to handle the fact that you couldn’t drink without airing dirty laundry.

“I think I need to eat some food before I do that. Why don’t you get some for Bradley,” You grabbed Bradley’s shoulder and pushed him forward, praying that it would be enough to entertain the drunk boy.

“Fine,” Jake glared.

“That’ll make it hard for you to keep up later, though!”

He grabbed Bradley by the bicep and pushed through the crowd to get him liquor, which he was so eager for.

Your conversations with Penny were light, mostly about what they had done today and the bet they had made that Bradley would need to have a ride for the night.

You successfully dodged Natasha’s questions about how the fertility and planning were going,how the doctor was and was it helping your sex life.

“We are trying hard,it is going good,” you replied with a nervous chuckle, the truth being that you were pregnant right now.

It felt like ages before the two of them – Jake and Bradley– returned.

You had chosen the fries and were sipping on the ginger ale Bradley had bought you before Jake came, but you were interrupted when Bradley and Jake returned to the table.

He was drunk.

Quite drunk.

More than tipsy.

Damn he wasn’t even seeing straight anymore.

And you knew it because his body was even warmer and his eyes looked even hazier than before he left.

You definitely imagined them having more than one shot at the bar, but you didn’t have much time to think about it before you felt his arms wrap around your waist and rest on your hips. You returned his touch, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and resting your head on his chest.

“I love you,” Bradley murmured into the soft spot between your jaw and ear, then his hands slid under your shirt to rest on your lower belly.

“I love you too,” you said again.

You could feel him smiling against your skin as he cradled the barely-there baby bump beneath your oversized sweater.

Bradley was the only one who saw you regularly enough to notice the small changes your body was going through. To everyone else, you still looked like plain old Y/N.

“We like you more but if you don’t stop fooling me in the middle of this bar,” You began, speaking light-heartedly and quietly into your ear, “Everyone will know and you won’t understand. You have to be quiet in order to have that announcement party you’ve been planning for weeks.”

Bradley sighed, knowing you were right, and loosened his grip on your stomach, choosing to at least throw an arm over your shoulder to keep you close.

“I know what you’re up to,” Jake and Natasha looked at the two from across the table.

This caught the attention of not only Jake and Natasha, but also Bob,Maverick and Penny. Everyone turned to look at Jake, anticipating what he was going to say next.

“So what’s going on here, Y/n?” Jake asked flirtatiously.

A frown formed on Btadley’s face, his arms quickly pulled up to his chest as he huffed.

“You’re trying to get out of here and leave us alone on your birthday.”

“I guess I’m not even here then. I guess I am just your fantasy then,” Bradley said, rolling his eyes.

“We’re not trying to leave you, man. I promise,” you stuck your pinky out on the table as a gesture of sincerity.

“Besides.” Jake’s drunken chatter was starting to sound rather childish now, and it was getting more and more entertaining by the second.

“We don’t do that, Bangman,” Bradley Replied.

“Liars. Both of you.”Jake threw a bunch of straw wrappers in Bradley’s direction, which bounced off Bradley’s chest and landed near his feet.

They were both heavily intoxicated now, and you didn’t want a fight between them.

“Where could we possibly go, hmm?” Bradley scoffed, resting his chin on the knuckles of his free hand that was resting on the table. "What better thing could we possibly plan than spending time with you on my birthday dinner?"

They watched as Jake fought his remaining sobriety for an answer, but he eventually gave in to his drunkenness and said, "I don't know. You're probably going to fuck each other or something.”

The table burst out laughing and you hid your face in Bradley’s chest because you were embarrassed.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Penny said before taking a long sip of her cocktail.

“Look. We’re in agreement.” Jake tried her best to sound serious in his drunken stupor.

“Prove to me that you won’t leave me at here and have another shot,” Jake said like a 5-year-old.

“Dude why the fuck they would leave you here at his own party dinner?” Bob asked but Bradley cut him off. “Fine,” Bradley shrugged. “Let’s go back to the bar then.”

Bradley started to pull Jake towards him but was stopped abruptly.

“No,” Jake said quickly.

“Y/n too. If you both drink, you can’t go home and leave me,” he said proudly, as if it was the smartest idea he could come up with.

“Hangman, maybe she doesn’t want to drink with y-” Bob was cut once again.

“Oh my god Bob stop, she loves drinking!” Jake absurdly said.

He couldn’t even form proper sentences and he wouldn’t listen to anything you said or Bradley or Bob.

You just knew that Jake was sloppy drunk and acting like an idiot like he always did, but you couldn’t help but feel your palms start to sweat.

You couldn’t tell Jake the real reason you couldn’t have drinks with the group tonight, so you quickly tried to come up with another excuse since you’d been stuffing your belly with fries since he’d given you your last one.

But there was no need to think any further when Bradley was helping you with his.

“She can’t do that, man. Now, come on. Let’s get some more tequila. Looks like Nat,Javy and Mickey needs some more too, hmm?”

You pinched your nose in annoyance. He was doing his best to keep this all under wraps, but Jake was making it extremely difficult.

“Who are you? Her guardian? Are you telling her what she can and can’t do?” he shouted.

“No, you fucking nun. She can’t drink because you can’t drink when you’re pregn-”

Damn it.

Bradley covered his mouth before he could finish his sentence, but it was too late. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he said it. To be completely honest, he wasn’t even sure if he was thinking.

He silently prayed that neither Jake nor the others would hear him, but when they all looked between him and you with wide eyes, he knew immediately that it wasn’t true.

“Y/N, are you pregnant?” Maverick was the first to speak.

You felt stuck in place, only able to stare at Bradley with a very fast beating heart and an open mouth.

“I, um, I – yeah?” It came out more as a question due to your state of shock.

“I’m so sorry baby,” Bradley cried, turning to you to comfort you.

He was writhing with fear that you were angry with him, but it was mostly the alcohol that made him think that way.

“You have a baby?” Jake’s voice was unusually low compared to how loud he had been shouting earlier.

“Yes. It will be.” You were laughing nervously as you spoke. “I’m sorry Bradley ruined the surprise. We wanted to throw a big party and tell everyone at the same time, but I think the cat’s out of the bag for you.”

You rubbed the palm of your hand over Bradley’s back, silently assuring him that you weren’t mad at him. But the others were in a completely different world.

Jake didn’t say anything, just moved from his position next to Bob to get between You and Brad.

He looked at you both with an expression that resembled both anger and confusion, which only increased your discomfort.

In a split second, he wrapped his arms around both of you and hugged both of you tightly.

“Wow! This is the best news i heard today. Uncle Jake…What the fuck?! This is amazing!!

Now he was wandering around, smiling from ear to ear as he ran to Mickey and Javy, who had lost their minds again, to pull them into a group hug on her own chairs instead of on yours and Bradleys.

Both your eyes locked on each other in the middle of the group of friends and they were forced to be a part of his sandwich.

A smile and a knowing look exchanged between you, and despite not coming out in the most fashionable way, you knew that your precious little nugget would be surrounded by people who loved them very much. Everybody took their time to hug both of you and congratulate you.

By the end of the night, Jake leaned over his knees and placed his icy hands on your belly.

"Hi, I'm Jake, I love you..." He began to kiss her belly in a drunken voice.

"Fuck off Jake, that's enough." You burst out laughing as Bradley shouted from behind you.

"Okay.”

And that's how your pregnancy was revealed…

Few weeks later…

For a few days, it was Bradley and Duke’s normal protectiveness that you had gotten used to, but it wasn’t until Bradley’s mother invited you to a family gathering that Bradley reached a new level.

“Go join the others, okay?” You told him, “I’ll be fine here with your relatives,” and despite not being sure, he did as you asked, but looked at you often to make sure you were okay.

When someone is pregnant, that’s the talk of any sit-down.

“You’re glowing!” Many of Bradley’s family members fawned over your belly and your pregnancy, “Did you find out the sex of the baby?” one woman asked. You said you didn’t because you wanted to know when the baby was born.

All of this was fine.

But.

A lot of hands were constantly touching your belly.

You knew it was good intentions, but you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with every hand touching your belly—hands from people you weren’t that familiar with.

Every time someone touched your belly, you tried to take a discreet step back, trying to put your hands on your belly before they did, but it was no use.

Bradley knew you like the back of his hand.

So, in a failed attempt to hide your discomfort, he immediately tried to save you as you stood with a forced smile on your face with 6 of his relatives.

“Hi,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist before placing a quick kiss on your cheek.

“What if you’re not the father!” A woman joked happily, “We were just giving Y/N tips for the first month when the baby came,” she said before leaning forward to caress your belly, “I think it’s a baby girl.”

You frowned at the touch, taking a slight step back as you also moved closer to Bradley. He understood, wrapping his other arm around your waist, his relative pulling his hand away reflexively,

“Anyway, I’ll be so happy. Can you give us one minute please?” He asked them with a gentle smile before taking your hand in his and letting you both go to a quieter place.

You sighed in relief, caressing your little belly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, his hands covering your face, “What’s wrong, honey?”

“I just-” You sighed again, feeling overwhelmed with emotions that would make you cry.

“Hey, hey,” Bradley’s mood changed instantly, his eyebrows furrowed as he hugged you, pulling you closer to his chest, “I’m right here, I’m right here.”

“I just,” your husky voice said before you pulled away slightly but still leaned into him, “Everyone keeps touching my belly. Like, all these hands and all these people and some of them are like, some of them are just rubbing it or something or holding it there for a long time so they can feel the baby kick and it just makes me so uncomfortable.”

Bradley nodded as you spoke, looking into your eyes as he began, “You have every right to be uncomfortable, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, “How about we go home, yeah? We can just go.”

“But your mom-”

He shook his head, “My mom will understand, I promise. I care about your comfort more than anything else,” he said. “Let’s go, okay?”

“Okay,” you sniffled.

“Yeah?” He smiled softly and leaned down to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

“I love you too,” you replied, before sighing, wrapping your arms around him. “And my back really hurts.”

“We’ll go home,” he said as he began to rub your back. “And I’ll massage you until you fall asleep, how does that sound?”

“Heavenly.”

He murmured, “How about I call my mom so you can say goodbye? You don’t have to say goodbye to everyone, I don’t want more people touching you.”

“You mean like I don’t know,” you shrugged, “Isn’t it a bit rude?”

“Fuck it,” Bradley replied instantly, “I can’t risk making you feel any more uncomfortable because someone might think it’s rude.”

And he kept his promise. Bradley called his mom so you could sneak off alone and say goodbye to the relatives.

And then he kept his promise once more because as soon as you got home he was buzzing around like a busy bee, making sure you were happy and comfortable before massaging your back.

“Mmh i love you so so so much,baby”

“Love you too honey.”

Child jake vs dagger squad

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[cartoonistcoop]

ShortBox Comics Member Interview: Sloane Hong

Throughout the month of October, the Cartoonist Cooperative will be sharing interviews with members of the Co-op who have a new comic available at the ShortBox Comics Fair 2024! 

NOTE: The Cartoonist Cooperative is not affiliated, associated, authorized, endorsed by, or in any way formally connected with ShortBox.  

Today’s spotlight is Sloane Hong ( @plaest2k ) and their new comic for ShortBox, Expiry Date.

We’d love it if you could introduce yourself and tell us about your background in comics.

Sloane Hong: Kia ora, my name is Sloane Hong (she/her), I’m a Korean-tauiwi illustrator, comic artist and tattooer based in Aotearoa, New Zealand. I only started making comics professionally about five years ago but they’ve always been a significant part of my life for as long as I can remember.

Tell us more about your new comic?

SH: Expiry Date is an erotic, body horror, sci-fi short story about coming home from a long day at your shitty, minimum-wage job, crashing on your couch and fantasizing about how fucking good it would feel to just die.

I mean, it’s also about transness, labour rights, our relationship with our bodies and death under capitalism, etc but it’s mostly about shitty jobs.

My friend described it as “what if David Cronenberg was a transsexual dyke who grew up reading ero-guro”.

What are some early experiences as a cartoonist that shaped you or your process?

SH: My brother’s also an artist, probably better than I could ever be, and I basically owe any good taste I might have to him. Growing up, I always got home from school first so I’d sneak into his room to admire his drawings and read his comics. He had most of the usual stuff you’d find on any Korean kid’s shelf in the 90’s: Akira Toriyama, Masamune Shirow, Yoshito Usui, etc, and a couple of Korean manhwa that are all now damn-near impossible to find. As he got older, he started getting into American comics and brought home stuff like R. Crumb, Daniel Clowes, Fletcher Hanks, etc from the library.

But it’s not just that I had someone to introduce me to all this stuff, it’s the fact I’m six years younger than him and he was already reading this stuff earlier than most. So I think I started looking at all those misanthropic underground comics by horny white men when I was, like, what… about 10 years old?

Besides my brother, the trauma of working shitty jobs for years on end, The Terrible Boredom of Paradise, and this weird and fucked up miracle we call life are probably the wellsprings of both my inspiration and ceaseless burnout. 

Tell us about your creative process; how did you develop this comic and what are the steps you took to bring it to the final stage?

SH: I did something really stupid for the 2023 ShortBox Comics Fair. I have ADHD and one of the many ways it manifests is that I have a debilitating habit of overthinking my stories. “Are the themes too obvious? Is it too heavy handed? Are the motivations for this character clear enough? Is this the right way to phrase this? Is this the right word? Is this the right letter? Is this the right punctuation?” etc, etc.

On paper, it probably sounds like something every writer goes through but when I say debilitating, I mean interferes-with-my-ability-to-live-a-normal-life-kind of debilitating. It’s kind of impossible to articulate how bad it was but it got to a point where I was so sick of myself and all the stories I never finished that I said fuck it–maybe if I just jump into a comic with nothing but a stupid premise, no planning and an impending deadline, I won’t have time to think about all these inconsequential details. So I sat down and forced myself to write, pencil and ink a comic, page-by-page.

It was essentially an exercise in automatism: I was still thinking about draftsmanship, composition, flow and everything but I kinda just let the story tell itself by writing/ drawing whatever felt like a natural progression for the narrative.

That was how I ended up with Marrow, which was kinda funny because the whole point was to make a goofy, low-stakes comic about nothing to circumvent the pressure of having to write anything good. Instead I’d inadvertently made something that was layered and deeply intimate and won the sci-fi category in the 2024 Minicomic Awards. But, more importantly, the whole process helped bring everything together. It reminded me of something I used to tell young artists: developing a style isn’t something you really set out to do, it’s something that just happens. You don’t practice drawing to get better at drawing; you do it to better channel your voice. It’s only when you can stop thinking about how to move your hand that your heart can take the lead.

I’d forgotten my own advice. I was so concerned about the technical details of how to write a story that I was basically assembling components rather than writing anything at all. Marrow helped me realize I’d already internalized everything I needed to write long ago. I just needed to stop thinking.

Expiry Date was a continuation of that process and made in basically the same way. There was just significantly less stress involved now that I knew I could trust myself.

Mostly.

Read the rest of the interview HERE! And dont forget to check out the Shortbox Comics Fair to support these lovely creators!!

[denial-permanente]

Wondering how you deal with making those captions and answering that many question while being locked but without becoming crazy...

To me it's like I had to kinda "forget" about that thing down there do be able to get remotely used to it.

And I am far far away from your time frames...

If I locked up being horny in the first place it was pure torture. Couldn't stop thinking about it. To the other newcomers here - having a wank and locking up afterwards is easier in this regard. The sexual drive is gone so it's easier to not think about it being caged. At least for me...

Anyways, I am wondering how this part of your journey was for you? I know about the story when Miss went on a trip and so on... But to sum it up, would you say that you eased into the cage or was it more like getting used to and than full commitment at once?

And getting back to my primary thought, have you been active in the interwebs from the beginning on? And if so, did it interfere with getting used to being locked? Or did you kinda naturally reduce your online times during first longer periods so it didn't drove you crazy?

And compared to today - I guess nowadays it's just easy because not getting hard while doing everything is just the new normal ? I mean like no difference between writing this blog (being locked) and getting a new haircut (being locked) - is it?

So asked more from a mental point of view: what would your recommend for beginners, to get into longer periods? Would it be better to ditch all remotely porn related things? Lock it, and forget about Tumblr and other platforms while being in the first few week or month long lockups?

Or am I completely wrong with it needing to become "normal" in a way that you don't think about it any longer?

Sometimes I am comparing it to girls wearing a bra... Might be new in the beginning. Might be strange. Might feel uncomfy at times. But the extra support is mostly welcome and after a few years a woman not only does not think about the bra anymore she doesn't notice it 99% of the time and if she does it's just normal and not kinky or sex related at all. And in the end she might even feel incomplete without a bra in public.

To me it's like it's you kinda need to get to this point with a cage. Don't you?

🔏 Wow, there's a lot here! Let's see if I can simplify it: You seem to be wondering how I learned to cope with the constant arousal of being locked with no relief. Is that it?

I had purchased a CB3000 pretty much right when they came out. I spent some time making adjustments and figuring out the fit, etc. I did all this *before* I sprung it on @mrs--edge. We had already tried this because I had made a few of my own cages, and she did enjoy the idea. Once I figured out a good combination of rings and spacers for the CB3000, I showed her a picture of the product. "You've got to get one of those," she said. I told her that I had already bought it, so she had me put it on for her, and we jumped right into it. I think I was locked for at least two weeks straight, then a little break, then a couple more weeks, and before long it was weeks, then months at a time.

Was I horny all the time? Of course. Hell, twenty five years later and I'm still horny all the time. But probably it was because I didn't get any breaks that I just learned to live with what I called the "constant low-level simmer of arousal."

As to looking at porn, etc, I'm not sure what to say. Except for the picture captions that I do, I'm not much for looking at porn. Frankly, very few things are nearly as exciting to me as the stuff in my own head. But if you had a habit of viewing it often, I'd suggest cutting back would help in not going crazy being caged.

Look, I can't tell you what will work for you. A lot of guys seem to need to build up to it. A week. A couple of weeks. Then maybe the entire month of LOctober. I get it; being horny all the time is distracting. How do you relieve the constant pressure?

For me, it seems like getting tossed right into the deep end just worked out. My wife took to this pretty quickly, and she liked my constant physical attention - as long as I didn't get whiney and bothersome. She had no problem early on telling me "No coming until I say so," and eventually, "No more being unlocked." In some ways, I didn't have much choice except to become used to holding it in. The advantage to that approach is that it by necessity becomes "normal" which probably makes the transition easier.

[penkura]

last forever [3/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: At time of posting, this is the most recent chapter I have finished. Chapter four will be worked on and hopefully posted tomorrow (4/29), then I will update every Monday, hopefully.

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2]

Your stress is through the roof, watching Zoro fight against Dracule Mihawk. You're wringing your hands hearing Luffy tell Johnny and Yosaku not to interfere, and it makes you want to jump over and help. You knew this was his plan as soon as name left Johnny's mouth before you all arrived at Baratie, you hadn't gotten the chance to tell him he should wait, and seeing his swords break, the large attack from Mihawk that left him bloodied and Luffy screaming his name now makes you wish you could go back and do that.

"Sis, we need your sewing skills!!"

Johnny and Yosaku brought Zoro onto a small ship manned by Usopp, one you'd probably be taking to go after Nami and bring her and the Merry back.

You're about to jump in and go to them, before remembering the one thing keeping you from doing so.

Damn it, I can't swim!

"You have to bring him over here! You guys know I can't swim!"

"We can't get close enough," Usopp yells and looks between you and Zoro, "He's bleeding really bad!"

Biting your lip, you barely notice Luffy wrapping his arms around you three times before he says your name.

"You're gonna fly!!"

"Wait wha–"

Luffy lifts you up and stretches his arms all the way over, making sure you've touched down on the boat before he lets go, arms snapping back as he tells you to help Zoro. You start getting your supplies ready, your heart pounding in your ears and you barely notice Zoro awake, lifting up Wado Ichimonji and making a promise to Luffy with heavy breaths and tears you've never seen before.

Actually, you've never seen Zoro cry before this day.

"Until I become…the world's greatest swordsman, I swear…I'll never lose again! Got that, King of the Pirates?!"

Hearing Luffy's agreement makes you smile as you stare at Zoro, quickly remembering you have to start stitching him up or he'll bleed to death in this tiny boat. Usopp starts you all in the direction Nami took the Going Merry, while Johnny and Yosaku watch you with tear filled eyes as you stitch up the gash from Mihawk down Zoro's chest, he's nearly fast asleep by the time you finish and cut the thread.

A very quiet word of thanks leaves his mouth before he's asleep, you simply respond telling him not to mention it, rinsing your hands in the sea water. Johnny gives you praise for being able to stitch up such a large wound, Usopp saying you were one of the best he'd ever seen for a makeshift doctor. You hear them, but don't respond, watching Zoro sleep instead. Despite his loss to Mihawk he looks as if he's resting peacefully, and that makes you happy to think about for the time being.

You're quiet as you place a hand on his face, stroking his cheek slightly while telling the others that he'll be alright, before removing your hand from his face.

You'd love to tell him how amazed you are and that you have feelings for him, but now's not the time. Maybe another day, when you aren't chasing down your friend who's stolen your ship and is going off to who knows where, and maybe when Zoro isn't unconscious from nearly bleeding out after taking on a fight he couldn't win (but oh how badly you wanted him to win it).

Right now, you have to focus on Nami.

+!+

How you all have now liberated three towns from Pirates or the threat of Pirates, you aren't sure. Your crew isn't anything like the Pirates your parents had tried to teach you to fear as a child. Luffy was far too kind and really only wanted to be King of the Pirates, but helping Nami came first.

Freeing her home from Arlong and his Fishman Pirates was the main priority of the day, and you were glad to lend a hand. Nami had become your best friend in no time, you had to help her. Even when you were told (ordered really) to stay back by Zoro, you made sure you were ready to help if needed.

And you tried. Tried to pull Zoro away after he'd beaten Hachi and was on the verge of collapse from a fever and his wounds from Mihawk, but he tried to shove you away and tell you he was fine despite the dizzied look he had. Arlong ripping his stitches out caused you to try again, trying to help him, but you were stopped by Johnny and Yosaku pulling you back, telling you not to bother because you'd just die.

Even seeing Luffy swap places with Zoro terrified you that he was going to be even more badly injured, but you were still held back by your old friends through the end of Luffy's fight against Arlong, finally freeing Nami and her hometown.

Your biggest concern afterwards was Zoro, but when you saw him later that day with a drink in hand you knew he was fine. Most of your time at the party was spent with Nami and her sister Nojiko, listening to Usopp tell his stories to the kids, and sharing Sanji's food with Luffy. Every now and then you'd look for and find Zoro, a few times smiling brightly at him when you caught his eye, which made him look away from you immediately.

Sanji, still brand new to the crew, noticed the looks you and Zoro shared that night. You were strange, your relationship with him, whatever it was, was strange to him.

Even stranger, he notices you leave Nami and Nojiko at one point, hurrying over to Zoro and latching onto his arm, making him lean in to hear whatever you had to say. He rolls his eyes while you smile, but doesn't shake you off, letting you move his arm around your shoulders while he has another drink.

You're weird, both of you. The rest of the crew isn't phased at all by the two of you being so buddy-buddy, but Sanji wonders what you two have going on. Are you together? How long have you known each other? Surely you only met when you each joined Luffy, right?

When Zoro leaves you to go look for Luffy, food, or another drink, whatever it is, you seem content to be left alone, until Sanji sees your shoulders drop and you look almost like you're going to cry. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him, he's not sure.

But if Zoro said or did something to upset you, Sanji was going to make sure the swordsman paid for it.

+!+

The majority of your crew doesn't know of your struggles with nightmares. Normally they take the form of your parents, the man they were going to force you to marry, and being trapped in a loveless life in your home village where most treated their children like property to be sold. Your only solace there being your older brother who was protective over you. Being the one to help you run away, making you swear to never come back and to take his sword to protect yourself after he'd spent the last few years teaching you how to use it.

You were good at keeping those demons to yourself, to not worry anyone. The nightmares had been less lately anyway, you felt safe with everyone around. The six of you on your way to Loguetown, you and Nami snatching up the office area as your room, both turning in late in the night after long talks about numerous things.

Your bad dreams, however, took a new form that night. This time, the dream takes you back to Baratie, back to Zoro's fight against Mihawk, and instead of him waking long enough for his promise to Luffy, you're sitting beside him while he bleeds from the wound and you're unable to move. You can't bring yourself to start stitching him up, and before anything else happens, you've woken up.

While it wasn't as bad as the dreams about your parents, it was enough to shock you awake and into a seated position on your bed. Nami is still fast asleep in her own bed, apparently not having noticed or heard your heavy breathing from the nightmare. You don't know why your nightmares took this turn, you'd much rather deal with seeing your parents in your dreams than seeing your closest friend and ally dying in front of you, even though he was just down the hall and alive.

It's several minutes of tossing and turning before you decide to get up and sneak off to the boys' bunks, turning back to your habit you'd been determined to stop as more crewmates joined, but you can't help it.

The past nightmares have been enough to make you slip into bed with Zoro before, he never fought you over it and let you stay, let you continue when it was just the two of you, but with more friends you worried they'd all get the wrong idea.

And maybe they will, but if Zoro doesn't mind and it helps you sleep, they shouldn't complain or tease you. Hopefully.

Usopp and Luffy are both spread out on the floor, making you have to tiptoe around them to get to Zoro's hammock, not even registering that Sanji's is empty.

You're quiet while you slip in and under the blanket, wrapping your arms around Zoro and making yourself comfortable. You figured he was asleep when you walked in, but his hand moves to grab one of your own, thumb stroking the back of your hand while he waits to hear if you say anything.

You don't, Zoro doesn't mind, he knows you won't tell him the contents of your nightmares anymore, not after the first one. If you're unable to sleep, he's glad to let you join him and keep you safe. He promised he would do so, helping keep your demons away so you could rest.

Unfortunately, your peaceful sleep is interrupted early in the morning by Sanji shouting at Zoro to get off you, like he'd done something wrong when you were the one to climb into his hammock.

"What do you think you're doing to [Y/N]-chan, you moss head?! Get your hands off her!"

A pillow lands on your face, likely aimed for Zoro, but it misses him due to the fact his face is buried in your shoulder while one arm is around you. Normally your face would be red at this, but with Sanji still nearly screeching for Zoro to "unhand" you, all you can think about is crawling in a hole and dying.

Zoro gets fed up and eventually lets you go, taking the pillow that disturbed you both and throwing it back at Sanji with twice the force.

"Shut up already!! You're going to wake the whole damn East blue!"

"I will as soon as you stop violating sweet [Y/N]!"

Yeah you really want to just up and die right now.

"Who's violating her?!"

"You are, you savage!"

"How do I violate my own wife when she's the one that crawled into my bed?!"

Everything goes quiet, you don't want to know what look is on Sanji's face at the moment, but you're grateful for Nami coming in and telling everyone to shut up, even though she's a moment too late. Luffy and Usopp were awake and just watching the scene unfold, until Zoro's statement which makes Usopp's eyes go wide and Luffy laughs. He just knew you two wouldn't be able to keep this secret.

You're so embarrassed that you pull the blanket up over your now definitely bright red face, wishing Zoro and Sanji didn't feel the need to egg each other on and instigate all these petty fights.

When you finally decide to look and see what's going on, Luffy's still laughing, Nami is confused, Zoro's still got a glare set on Sanji, while your chef and Usopp are both looking at the two of you wide eyed, disbelief on their faces before there's one outburst from Sanji.

"Your WHAT?!"

+!+

It feels like an interrogation. You're in the kitchen still in your pajamas with Usopp and Sanji both questioning you and Zoro about your little marriage, Nami and Luffy enjoying breakfast to your side.

Zoro's completely unbothered by the whole thing, answering Sanji's questions with an annoyed look, while you answer Usopp's inquiries with your face still red from the way everyone was woken up that morning.

Eventually, they come to realize you two are only married to prevent the arranged one your parents set up, making Sanji sigh in relief and Usopp is slightly concerned but seems to understand.

“So, one more time,” you just can’t look at Usopp while he relays your situation once again, “You and Zoro got married to prevent you being forced into an arranged marriage, but you’re going to annul?”

You nod, taking glances at Zoro, who continues to glare at Sanji for waking you both too early. All of this was too much first thing in the morning, and you both had decided to keep this little marriage a secret from any new recruits, wanting only Luffy and Nami to know because you’d both slipped up with calling each other husband and wife without thinking about it in front of them.

"And you're just waiting for your parents to say something?"

You nod again at Sanji's question. "It's weird, I know but…I just can't go back there. My older brother told me never to go back, or I'd definitely be forced into that marriage."

"Your parents suck." Luffy nodded, still eating his breakfast when you look over at him with a smile. "But we'll keep you safe! We'll fight anyone that tries to take you from us!"

"No one's forcing you back home," Zoro doesn't look at you, instead moving to leave and start his training for the day despite not having breakfast yet, "I'll make sure of that."

There's something in the way he says it, as you thank everyone, that makes Sanji lean back in his seat and watch Zoro leave. Even with you both stating you were not in love and were going to annul the marriage as soon as you heard from your parents, Sanji swears there's something weird about the way Zoro treats you.

It might just be friendship, but it feels like something more that neither of you are saying. You absolutely could be hiding real feelings for each other, he knows that, the way you two speak to each other and work together seems to say so, but until either of you say anything, Sanji isn't willing to believe this is anything more than a sham marriage.

There's something else, he's noticed in his short time with you all, in the way you look at Zoro, the way you speak to him as well. Zoro's a tough guy, but you speak so gently and kindly to him, it's almost like you really are his wife and want to stay that way. Maybe it's just your dynamic since you two have known each other much longer than the other Straw Hats, but Sanji isn't convinced. You and Usopp break him out of his train of thought by asking for breakfast, which he proceeds to provide you both with a grin, deciding he'll have to ask you another time if you have feelings for the moss head swordsman. If your heart's already taken, he'll gladly leave you be, despite his rivalry with Zoro.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

🧚‍♀️ Anon

You might have an hypnotism kink, but why stop there? Why not go further? An amnesia kink!! Yan JJBA

Darling wakes up in the hospital one day and sees a scary yet strange man by her side and she’s confused to who he is, which he reveals he’s her husband, Risotto/Prosciutto

And she’s shocked to learn they’ve been married for 2-3 years yet forgotten all about him and their life together because she got into an accident, but he reveals to her his ring and hers being a matching set with engravings promising to love and be together forever (She woke up to the wedding ring)

Their rings are very simple, yet beautiful, with Risotto it’s a Silver wedding ring (Made from the iron in him and Darling’s body with a Silver coating) and for Prosciutto it’s a Gold wedding ring (That he either took from a husband and wife he killed on the job or stole from a jewelry store)

Regardless both forced someone who works with jewelry to put his and Darling’s initials and the promise of being ‘together forever’ (Then killed him after it was completed)

Darling doesn’t know why but she always jumps whenever her ‘Husband’ touches or hugs her from behind, but she always apologizes to him because her memory hasn’t come back yet and hugs him back (Even if her body screams at her to not and to just run instead but she doesn’t)

What Darling doesn’t realize is that her ‘Husband’ is not her husband but an imposter who took her real fiancée’s role (After he killed him in cold blood) and pulled all the stops, from altering photographs of Darling and the man to be Darling and him, burned, buried and threw away everything that belongs to Darling’s fiancée without a trace of evidence, making all of Darling’s friends who would interfere to die in ‘accidents’ and how during those years how he would stalk, send Darling obsessive letters (Using cut-out letters, not his handwriting), inappropriate gifts, pictures and photographs of her sleeping and threats if she doesn’t do certain things (Like not talk to certain individuals or hang out with Darling’s friends)

Sorry I went absolutely batshit HAM on this

So I'd set this up as darling was kidnapped by Risotto or Prosciutto and they had another member of passione use their stand to wipe her memories. Maybe this could be a la squadra wins au? Giving them the time and influence to pull this off.

Darling wakes up in hospital and the doctors tell darling that she was in a car accident and sustained a head injury and may have some issues with memory.

Shortly after the doctor leaves someone comes in that they aren't familiar with.

"Umm sir... I think you have the wrong room" she tell him.

"You don't remember me?" He asks as the put a bouquet of flowers in the nearby vase.

"I don't" she told him.

"After all these years dear?" He pushs more. That's when darling notices a ring on his finger that matches her own.

"We're married?!" Darling exclaims. They tell darling they've been married for nearly three years. How the moment they heard about the accident they rushed to the hospital and how they've been waiting for days for darling to wake up from her coma.

Darling is confused and asks if she could have her phone. It's apparently broken beyond repair. They ask for their phone as she know one of her closest friends numbers but that's when they have to break the news. That friend was murdered nearly a month ago. Darling is in denial at first but sure enough it's true. It turns out most of the people she knew had been dropping dead like flys for two years.

Darling is an emotional wreck and they're there to comfort them. Tells them the moment she get discharged that they'll get darlings favorite take out.

Almost immediately after darling is discharge and they take her home. All across the walls are photos of them happily together, but something seems off about them. Something about his smile seems off.

"What's the matter" he asks.

"Nothing" the tells them.

"Do you not believe that we're together?" He asks.

"I don't remember any of this... it's like you're a complete stranger" she tells him.

That's when he take his ring off and tells them to look inside.

'I shall cherish you forever and always- (initials)'

"That's what you told me on our wedding day, we got what eachother engraved in our rings" he tells her. She takes off hers and reads hers.

'You mended me and made me to who I am now' (R/N or P/?)'

It takes a while for darling to warm up to the idea, especially with dealing with the grief of so many death's. Eventually they start going on dates and outings together. They bring up how weird it is they don't have any wedding photos but he explains that something happened with the venue (place needed renovations, the venue was a scam or it was double booked) so they just got the documents signed instead and that they'd planned to have a proper wedding at a later date.

Somewhere deep down darling has a horrible feeling about him but tries to push it aside. There's photo's to prove it and they haven't done anything to hurt them.

For their 'anniversary' darling is surprised with their wedding dress and that they'll have some proper photo's taken like how it should have been on the day.

Maybe he even tries to 'relive the wedding night' if you get what I mean. To which darling is hesitant but ultimately gives in.

However one day darling answers the door to see her parents (that live far away) who have been trying to find her after months of silence. They ask how her and another name that she can't quite put her finger on have been.

"I'm married (Risotto/Prosciutto), I've never heard of that name before" she tells them.

"Married?! Since when? You never introduced us to (Risotto/Prosciutto)" the exclaimed.

"We've been married for three years, you've met him before" she tells them as she's seen photos of them all together.

Her parents go silent.

"What's the matter?" She asks them.

"You're not making sense... (insert name) and you only met two years ago, there's no way you could have been married to this new man for 3 years" they tell her.

Soon after darlings parents are killed and He's trying to convince them their parents aren't telling the truth unfortunately at this point darling is questioning everything and tries to leave, unfortunately that isn't going to happen.