#I’m so like ….. not interested anymore ….. I’m trying to be … but ………. I’m not …..

[andy-15-07]

The Father's Heart

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 2076| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the cozy kitchen. Y/n hummed softly as she flipped pancakes, the sizzle a comforting counterpoint to the gentle chatter of her family. Pedro sat at the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. Their youngest, Leo, a whirlwind of energy at eight years old, was attempting to build a tower out of cereal boxes, while their middle child, Mateo, fourteen and perpetually attached to his headphones, mumbled something about needing more syrup. Elena, their eldest, sixteen going on seventeen, was the last to arrive, a vision of effortless cool even in her pajamas.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Y/n greeted, placing a stack of pancakes in front of Elena.

"Morning, Mom," Elena mumbled, giving her mother a quick kiss on the cheek. She glanced at Pedro, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes, before grabbing a fork and digging in.

Pedro watched her, his frown deepening. He’d been doing some thinking, some serious thinking, and he wasn't entirely sure he liked where his thoughts were leading him. He cleared his throat.

"Elena," he began, his voice carefully neutral.

Elena looked up, a question in her eyes.

"Your… friend, Ethan," Pedro continued, choosing his words carefully. "He's coming over later, right?"

Elena nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Yeah, he said he'd be here around two."

"Two," Pedro repeated, the word hanging in the air. He glanced at Y/n, who gave him a subtle ‘don’t you dare’ look. He ignored it. He was a father. It was his job.

"So," Pedro continued, "what exactly are you two planning on doing?"

Elena’s flush deepened. "Just… hanging out," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"Hanging out," Pedro repeated again, the words laced with suspicion. "Doing what, exactly?"

"Dad!" Elena exclaimed, her voice rising in exasperation. "We're just going to watch a movie or something. Maybe work on our history project."

"History project," Pedro echoed, unconvinced. He knew teenagers. He’d been one himself, a lifetime ago. "What's this project about?"

"The French Revolution," Elena replied quickly, a little too quickly, Pedro thought.

"The French Revolution," he repeated, nodding slowly. "Interesting. Tell me, Elena, what was the primary cause of the French Revolution?"

Elena blinked, caught off guard. "Uh… economic inequality?" she stammered.

"And the Reign of Terror?" Pedro pressed.

Elena’s eyes darted around the room. "Robespierre… guillotine… lots of people died?"

Pedro sighed. "Elena, I’m not trying to grill you on your history project. I just… I want to know what you’re doing. I want to know who you’re spending your time with."

"Dad, I know you don't like Ethan," Elena said, her voice low.

"I didn't say that," Pedro countered, though it wasn't entirely true. He didn't dislike Ethan, exactly. He just… he was sixteen. Sixteen and full of… hormones. And Elena was his little girl. Always would be.

"You don't have to say it," Elena retorted. "I can tell. You’re always giving him the ‘look’."

Pedro knew exactly what ‘look’ she was talking about. The ‘I will disembowel you if you even think about breaking my daughter’s heart’ look. It was a work in progress, he’d admit.

"Elena," Y/n interjected gently, "your father just cares about you. He wants to make sure you’re safe and happy."

"I know, Mom," Elena said, her voice softening. "But I'm not a little kid anymore. I can make my own decisions."

"About some things, yes," Pedro said, "But some things… some things your mother and I still get a say in."

"Like what?" Elena challenged.

"Like… like who you spend time with," Pedro said. "Like… making sure you’re not getting into any trouble."

"Dad, I'm not going to get into trouble," Elena said, rolling her eyes.

"I know, honey," Pedro said, reaching across the island to take her hand. "I trust you. I do. But… Ethan… he’s a nice boy, I’m sure. But he’s still… young."

"So am I!" Elena exclaimed.

"That’s my point," Pedro said. "You're both still figuring things out. And I just… I don't want you to get hurt."

"Dad, everyone gets hurt sometimes," Elena said. "That's just part of life."

"I know," Pedro said softly. "But I don’t want you to get hurt unnecessarily. I don’t want you to make any mistakes you’ll regret later."

"I won't," Elena promised, though Pedro could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes.

"Okay," Pedro said, finally relenting. "Okay. Ethan can come over. But," he added, pointing a finger at her, "the French Revolution better be discussed. And," he added, glancing at Mateo, who had finally removed his headphones and was listening intently, "no funny business."

Mateo snorted. "Dad, please."

"I’m serious," Pedro said, his gaze sweeping over all three of his children. "I love you all. More than anything in the world. And I’ll do anything to protect you. Even if it means being the overprotective dad."

Elena smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. "I know, Dad," she said. "We love you too."

The tension in the room dissipated, replaced by a warm, comfortable silence. Y/n smiled at her family, a feeling of contentment washing over her. They weren't perfect, not by a long shot. But they were hers. And she wouldn't trade them for anything.

Later that afternoon, Ethan arrived, a shy, lanky boy with a mop of brown hair and a nervous smile. Pedro greeted him at the door, his ‘look’ firmly in place. Ethan swallowed nervously, but managed a polite "Hello, Mr. Pascal."

"Ethan," Pedro replied, offering a curt nod. "Come in."

He led Ethan into the living room, where Elena was waiting. "Hey," she said, giving Ethan a quick hug.

"Hey," Ethan replied, his cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.

Pedro watched them, his eyes narrowed slightly. He cleared his throat. "So," he said, "the French Revolution, huh? Big topic."

Ethan blinked. "Uh, yeah. We have a presentation to do."

"A presentation," Pedro repeated. "Interesting. What aspect of the French Revolution are you focusing on?"

Ethan looked at Elena, who gave him an encouraging smile. "We’re looking at the role of women in the revolution," he said.

"The role of women," Pedro repeated. "Fascinating. Did you know that Marie Antoinette…"

And so began a lengthy discussion about the French Revolution, with Pedro occasionally interjecting with historical facts and anecdotes. Ethan, to his credit, held his own, demonstrating a surprising knowledge of the subject. Elena, meanwhile, seemed amused by the whole exchange, occasionally rolling her eyes at her father’s over-the-top protectiveness.

As the afternoon wore on, Pedro’s ‘look’ softened. He could see that Ethan was a respectful young man, and that he genuinely cared about Elena. He still had his reservations, of course. But he was starting to realize that he couldn't protect Elena from everything. All he could do was offer her guidance, support, and unconditional love.

Eventually, it was time for Ethan to leave. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Pascal," he said politely.

"You’re welcome, Ethan," Pedro replied, offering a genuine smile. "Just… take care of her."

Ethan nodded. "I will, sir."

He turned to Elena, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I’ll see you tomorrow," he said.

"See ya," Elena replied, a soft smile playing on her lips.

After Ethan left, Pedro turned to Elena. "He seems like a nice young man," he said.

Elena nodded. "He is," she said.

"Just… be careful," Pedro said.

"I will, Dad," Elena promised. "I know you’re just trying to protect me."

Pedro smiled. "That’s my job," he said.

He pulled Elena into a hug, holding her close. She was growing up so fast. It seemed like just yesterday she was a little girl, playing with dolls and dreaming of being a princess. Now, she was a young woman, navigating the complexities of life and love. And he, her father, would be there for her every step of the way.

Later that evening, after the kids were in bed, Pedro and Y/n found themselves alone in the kitchen, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound. Y/n was washing dishes, while Pedro leaned against the counter, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"So," Y/n said, breaking the silence, "what did you think of Ethan?"

Pedro sighed. "He seems… polite. Respectful. Nice enough."

"But?" Y/n prompted, knowing there was a ‘but’ coming.

Pedro hesitated. "But he's still sixteen. And Elena… she's my little girl. It feels like just yesterday I was teaching her how to ride her bike, and now… now she's dating."

Y/n chuckled. "I know what you mean. It's hard to believe how quickly they grow up. It feels like just yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital."

Pedro nodded, a wistful look in his eyes. "She was so tiny. So fragile. And now… she's this beautiful, intelligent young woman. And I just… I don't want anything to hurt her."

"I know, honey," Y/n said softly, drying her hands and turning to face him. "But you can't protect her from everything. She has to learn to navigate these things on her own. We can guide her, support her, but we can't shield her from the world."

"I know," Pedro said, running a hand through his hair. "It's just… it's hard. Seeing her with him… it makes me realize how much time has passed. How quickly she's growing up."

"I feel it too," Y/n admitted. "But that's a good thing, isn't it? It means we've done our job. We've raised her to be a strong, independent young woman."

"I hope so," Pedro said. "I just… I don't want her to make any mistakes she'll regret."

"She will make mistakes, Pedro," Y/n said gently. "Everyone does. The important thing is that she learns from them. And that she knows we'll be there for her, no matter what."

Pedro nodded, his gaze softening. "You’re right. You always are."

He reached out and took her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Thank you," he said. "For everything. For being such an amazing mother to our children. For… for putting up with me."

Y/n smiled. "You’re not so bad," she teased. "Most of the time."

Pedro chuckled. "I love you," he said, pulling her close.

"I love you too," Y/n replied, resting her head on his chest.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the silence once again filled with a comfortable warmth. They knew that the road ahead wouldn't always be easy. There would be challenges, and heartbreaks, and maybe even a few French Revolution debates. But they would face them together, as a family. And that's all that mattered.

A few weeks later, Pedro found himself having another conversation with Elena, this time about her future. She had been accepted to a summer program for aspiring writers, a program that would take her out of state for six weeks. Pedro was… hesitant.

"Six weeks?" he repeated, his brow furrowed. "That's a long time."

"I know, Dad," Elena said, "But it's an amazing opportunity. It could really help me with my writing."

"I know, honey," Pedro said. "It's just… I'll miss you."

Elena smiled. "I'll miss you too, Dad. But it's only six weeks. And I'll call you every day."

"I know, I know," Pedro said. "It's just… you're growing up so fast. It feels like just yesterday you were asking me to read you bedtime stories."

Elena laughed. "I still like you to read me stories sometimes," she admitted.

Pedro smiled. "I know you do," he said. "And I always will. No matter how old you get."

He looked at her, his eyes filled with love and pride. She was so talented, so passionate. He knew he couldn't hold her back.

"Okay," he said finally. "You can go. But," he added, pointing a finger at her, "you better call me every day. And," he added, his gaze softening, "be careful. Okay?"

"I will, Dad," Elena promised. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," Pedro said, pulling her into a hug.

He knew that letting her go was the right thing to do. It was part of growing up, part of becoming her own person. And as much as it pained him to see her go, he knew that he had to let her fly. All he could do was be there for her, waiting for her return, ready to catch her if she fell. Because that's what fathers do. They protect. They guide. And they love. Unconditionally. Always.

[ghostofreach]

IM NOT DEAD🔥🔥🔥

I’m not sick and dying anymore so I’m getting back on the grind🙏🙏🙏 have an old ref sheet of my diluc redesign (with some minor changes) that I just finished (finally lmfaoooo)

This is actually bad news for me because now I don’t have an excuse to draw him inconsistently 💔💔

Ignore the misspelling. NEOW……

Anyway I’m gonna talk about his design because i can 💯

Major points/changes

- he is no longer a twig. Very self explanatory this guy has a big awesome claymore I cannot convince myself that he doesn’t have the means to swing that thing around (one handed no less)

- I darkened his color palette, but I also made it a bit warmer in nature. The pure white right in the middle is a bit distracting and I don’t think it does much to communicate his personality. It just breaks up his design in a way I don’t like.

- scars, yes, but also stitches on his face. I imagine it’s new bruises, stitches, or scabs every week. I know it makes his face just a taaad busy, but idk. Ive been drawing that headcannon for forever atp so I try to accommodate that busyness with lots of flat color by the face to balance everything out

- Just a hint of embroidery here and there. It implies culture and adds just a bit of softness to the design (most of it is on the shawl underneath the fur)

Specific details I want to talk about!

The white fur shawl/scarf/neck warmer/make up a word idk💔

- this serves multiple purposes both thematically and visually

- it creates a ‘barrier’ around his face, not unlike the protective walls that border Mondstadt. It serves to imply his personality without dialogue, a bit closed off and skeptical at first. Almost as if he is trying to shield his peripherals from oncoming foes.

But it is still a soft barrier, and can be easily peeled away to reveal a very kind person at heart.

- it emphasizes the square shape. Not much to say there. Makes his shape language a bit more interesting as well by introducing a softer shape near the top.

- looks a bit like snow, no? Almost like snezhnaya still weighs heavy on his shoulders.

- underneath the fur is a faded red shawl from his mother. The only parts visible from the outside are those golden tassels. I like this bit a lot because it implies that (in reference to the point above) he doesn’t really know a whole lot about his mother or father- it’s buried under mounds of snow. The only thing he has truly been left is their wealth. He’s gonna have to dig if he wants to know their true nature.

-it contrasts very well with the Fatui. Where the harbingers have their signature white coats with black fur, Diluc wears a black coat with white fur

The coat

- it’s wind resistant for sure but also a bit… warm. It’s very thick and long and you can’t actually see a lot of what’s underneath. He’s only showing the viewer a sliver of what’s underneath. Under the rest of the coat? It could be anything. Knives, his vision, maybe even a gun? (Correct assumptions)

-it leaves the average onlooker with a lot of questions but is also very convenient in a fight. Can’t block a surprise knife to the liver if you never even knew he had one on his person.

Miscellaneous

- layers are super prevalent in his design. Especially on his face. From the makeup to the contact, he’s trying really, really hard to convince everyone he is fine (WRONG‼️) the people closest to can tell something is off, but… who are they to say anything?

- the nail polish was initially added because I thought it was funny but I also think it could be effective as a last resort in a fight. Imagine you’re in a fight with a guy and he ignites his fingernails. Scary af.

…I realize that’s probably not possible but it’s really cool so I’m just gonna suspend my belief.

Here’s some hair stuff. I wanna write about mondstadt hair lore in my au/rewrite bc it rots my brain but I have so many wips I gotta do those first

[fanzou]

I Can Love You

♡ A Valentine’s Special

✗ Pairing: Law Trafalgar x Fem!Reader

✗ Summary: You insist that Nico Robin is the right one for him, but he wants to show you why you’re wrong.

✗ Total WC: 6.5K

✗ CW: SMUT! Reader is a little jeeeeelly of Robin and Law’s friendship, reader is also a Straw Hat, LAW HAS A BIG DICK, p in v sex, Law teases too much [let me know if I missed any]

✗ A/N: Enjooooooy!

“You know I was thinking,” you start, and he's ready to rolls his eyes. “Robin and you’d make a great couple.”

Even though he was facing the opposite direction of you, you can tell Law’s face was littered in a scowl.

After spending over 2 weeks with him, he was easier to read. It came with its perks and, well, Law was Law and there wasn’t much else.

“And why’s that?” He feigns interest in what you say, raising his head in your direction while throwing the blood littered gauze pads in the trash can next to the desk. “I think you both would complement each other pretty well. She’s quiet, you’re quiet, she’s pretty wise, you are too.” You pause for a moment, then continue, “She’s also very gorgeous.” You wiggle your eyebrows, with a mischievous look.

“I suggest you take care of those wounds on your body before you worry about who I should or shouldn’t be with.”

Known for your blunt and straightforward manner—he respected it, in truth—pirates weren’t known to talk so formally amongst each other anyways, but this, he would be lying straight out of his teeth had he said he wasn’t taken aback by today’s new invasive question you’d ask him. You’ve said some weird things, never anything about his love life—which was… nonexistent, in your own words.

And yes, you make that very clear to him. A lot.

He looks over to you with your finger to your chin as if deep in thought, like you Straw Hats even had anything to give thought toanyway, and you finally speak, "Yeah... she might be too good for you. Scratch the thought."

He chuckles, “You wound me.”

“But if you had to choose from any woman in your entire life to ever marry, who would you choose?” And he has to remind himself that you are completely and entirely under the influence of painkillers, otherwise he would have mistook you for a 5-year-old with the way the question was structured.

“Definitely not you.”

“Law!” You pout. He makes sure that his back is facing you again so he could sneak in a little smile. “That’s actually a good thing. I’m out of your league.”

He turns around to look at you, hand on his heart, “My heart truly cannot take anymore heartbreak.” He says in the most monotone voice you’ve ever heard from him.

For most, it was weird that you were left behind by your captain, but in this case—and with a whole lot of begging from the Straw hat himself—you were rushed to Law’s medical aid. Mindlessly running into battle to protect your friends from a life or death situation wasn’t so appealing when you had to face the consequences for the next month.

But you insisted that you didn’t regret your decision if it meant that everyone was safe; or in Law’s words, you were just careless and dumb.

Even though Luffy himself had to be pried away from your side by the swordsman and the cook while you were unconscious for the first few days, Law had explained to you that they had to get a move on (In your crews complete and utter reluctance) for the next up and coming battle when you came to. And when you found out, you were a bit upset to be parted away from them, but quickly found comfort in Law's presence while you were bed-ridden, cracking jokes about how you’d call him captain until your time was up on his submarine.

He looks over to your bandaged condition, high off your ass, and he almost wants to laugh. Even in your drugged out state, you talk about your friends in such high regard, and try playing wingman with him.

You disrupt the comfortable silence while he looks over some of the stuff on his desk, “You’re not gonna believe this, but I’m feeling much better. Y’think I can go back on my own ship yet?” You’re already stretching your arms out. He calls your name with his signature “-ya” attached to it in a scolding manner, “What did I say about moving?” Damn Straw hat.

You immediately deflate and look down, “You’re not letting me do anything. I feel fine.”

“It feels that way until you move a little too much and start to open your wounds again, give it another week and we’ll see how you’re doing.” He’s looking through some pages on his desk. “We can go on another walk tomorrow if you really wanna move that badly.”

“Thank you, Cap!” You beam at him, he feels his heart jump a little bit.

-

Another week has passed and you’re itching to go back to your found family. It’s been this way for the past three weeks, but as the month goes by, you’d just grow more and more eager.

You made him question why he was even doing this often times.

He was a little offended by your verbalized pleas to get out of here, like he wasn’t helping you. In his own little ways, he tried satiating your boredom by doing things that were almost out of character for someone such as himself. He’d even let you tell him about your fellow crew members to make you a little happier.

You’d talk about Luffy quite often, maybe because he knew him way better than anyone else.

You talked about Robin and Nami as well, about how you felt like they were the sisters you never had growing up, about how close you were to them, about how you each met, he was almost sick of how much you talked about them. But if it meant that you were doing okay then that was all that mattered.

Is that why you said that thing a couple weeks ago? About Nico-ya? There was a sincerity in your voice. Robin was a beautiful woman just as you proclaimed, she was around his age, and all the things you said about her held truth.

Maybe it was true—Nico Robin was the woman perfectly crafted for him. And he couldn’t deny her beauty.

He brushes his hand over his face--maybe out of confusion or frustration, he can't decide. But he hated the conflicting feelings that resided in his mind, they made no sense. He never had an issue with women. He didn't want to.

From the day he met you, his beating heart understood an appeal his mind couldn't, you had an annoying personality. You made dumb decisions. You said things too brutally. You never thought about yourself and it was bound to get you killed one way or another. He didn’t know if it was because he’d been spending extra time with you and getting way too familiar with you, but he’s letting himself enjoy it far too much. And he doesn’t know how he’d feel once you parted your ways. He’s never been this close to a woman before, be it the lack of female subordinates on his ship, or his lack of intimacy with just about everyone, it’s a lot for him.

When he has his arm on your hip to assist you in walking and you have yours on his shoulder, he feels his heart rate picking up a little more.

Sometimes when you get tired you beg him to carry you back to your room, he pretends that he hates it, as he leans over for you to get on his back.

And the first week was hell for him when he had to wash you, because bloodied bath and scars aside, your body was beautiful. Every inch of it. He didn't want to be a pervert. He kept chanting the words; this is a doctor and patient relationship, this is a doctor and patient relationship, this is a doctor and patient relationship in his head when his mind almost slipped to unholy places. If you weren’t in so much pain at the time you’d probably have teased him for how red he looked.

But right now you seem fine, and you and Law (sometimes Bepo) have been going on walks around the submarine every morning now to get you used to physical activity again, you fall into the routine pretty quickly and you don’t seem as depressed as the first few days you were here.

A day ago the submarine ascended out of the water and met with dry land. He was conflicted in telling you— he didn’t know how you’d react. You’re in a completely different place now, different from where you were almost a month ago, it must've be a little weird to come outside after 3 weeks.

It was something that Chopper was extremely adamant on, only because he knew your tendency to wander and extreme desire to explore anywhere you went. You were quite the adventurous one, which is why the Straw Hat himself was probably so upset over your departure.

He sits next to you in a chair from your bed, mentally preparing himself and thinking on how he’d formulate the way he would go about telling you.

Would you stay by his side? Would you immediately go someplace else, and without him?

You’re sat upright in the bed waiting for what he had to say, “We’ll be getting some stock in this new place and I want you to come with us. Just to see how you do.” Your eyes get wider with every word that comes after the next, and you’re smiling. You hadn’t smiled this hard ever since you got here.

What he doesn’t expect, is you to throw yourself onto him. “Thank you Law! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Your embrace is warm, and easy to get lost in and he refuses to let himself have that pleasure. "Do they have a carnival? Can we go out to eat?"

He rests his hand on your waist in an effort to pull you off.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, you just got your stitches off.” And he does well to hide the small smile that starts to form.

-

Law insists that you have to be with him, no questions asked.

If not him, then Bepo—the usual routine. It kinda made you mad, I mean, why not go with the other crew mates? You needed the new faces, but he insisted that he wasn’t as confident in their skills to take care of you versus his. Bepo was far more comfortable to be with given his warm and fuzzy embrace. And you envied the captain for having him be apart of the Heart pirates instead of the Straw hats.

You’re excited to finally go out and enjoy the traditions of this new place, you’re wearing a tight dress that looks almost too good on you.

You made a joke to him earlier and told him you were surprised that he didn’t make you wear one of his jumpsuits the rest of the crew worse, then you’re calling him Captain Law to egg on the joke further. All he does is tsk and roll his eyes, like all the time. But you can tell he’s gotten more comfortable with you, and you appreciated it.

Anyway, the town’s food was delectable, you grab some food to-go and eat it while taking a stroll through the busy streets, the smell of more food, presumably some fresh-baked bread met your nostrils and you sighed out of pure satisfaction.

Your partner, on the other hand, all but scowled.

Which gave you an idea.

“Law, let’s go try some bread. I bet they have it freshly baked the way it smells so good.” You hang off of his arm to try and get him to come with you. And he swears the close proximity shouldn’t make him feel weird. He’s been much closer and he’s seen you in much more vulnerable circumstances, but this was different.

He kinda regrets telling you about the bread thing.

“C’moooonnn, you’re a liar if you say you hate bread.” You’re pulling him by his arm now, insisting on getting him into the bakery to try some sweet bread. “I never said I hated it, I said I didn’t like the taste.” This is practically a push and pull game now, “People are looking at us. We’re keeping a low profile, remember?”

You pull away from him in complete and utter defeat and tuck your hands over your chest.

He doesn’t want to miss your touch, but once again, his heart betrays him. “You’re no fun.”

He doesn’t have to miss the skinship for long, almost instantly you’re body is hanging back off of his bicep, talking about the next subject of your absolute fascination, which now happened to be a huge teddy bear plushy that was on display at a ‘convenience’ store. Not only are you closer to him but he can feel your breasts pushing onto his arm. He shudders.

And he tries remaining calm and reminding himself to not be a pervert, you always did this. You always touched him, he touched you. You were doing this as a means for support to walk better (even though you’ve been walking fine for a while now). That’s it.

You interrupt the awkward silence between you two before he starts to feel the immense guilt come over him and he thanks you in his head. His very perverted head. “I feel so much better now that we’re on land again, I feel like I haven’t had fresh air my whole life.” You breathe in and breathe a heavy breath out. “You’re exaggerating, you were on deck not too long ago.”

Your next movement makes him tense, you lay your head on top of his tattooed shoulder. “Thank you so much for taking me out, Law.” And give his captured arm a little squeeze, inevitably making him feel your breasts so much more.

He wants to die.

Collecting himself, he clears his through, “You’re making it seem like this is a date. I’m just here to monitor your progress.” He looks at you then looks ahead.

“Why can’t it be a date?” You ask him, still hanging off of his arm.

If you didn’t feel him tense then, it was especially obvious now. And he was trying to mask how weird he felt when you said that, but every part of him felt really hot, and he prayed that his cheeks weren’t tomato red right now.

“Aww! Look at them, young love, huh?”

“Ooooh, they’re an attractive couple…”

“They’re so cute!”

He calls your name a little coldly, “Get off of my shoulder, you’re sending people the wrong message.” He actually didn’t mind it, but he swears he might die if he feels your breast push up on him one more time. “Sorry…” So you withdraw your body completely from his, (which he totally doesn’t regret at all) and you start your walk with him again, minus your body on his this time.

Letting your eyes wander once again and away from Law, you settle on a trinket store, and the idea of buying Usopp a little gift pops into your head immediately. Just because.

You walk into the store full of weird things galore. You settle on a super shiny thing first and when you pick it up, the salesmen is immediately by your side, “This is a one of a kind (doo-hicky) which can only be found on this here island! (you saw this thing at the convenience store as well) Usual price would be 20,000 berries, but for your pretty little self, I’ll make it 19!”

“Yeah, no.” He immediately deflates.

You continue your walk through the store and not shortly after you land on something that you immediately found more intriguing than the last.

“Law look at this! You would love this!” You turn around,

But there’s just one problem.

Law isn��t with you anymore.

Oh.

And when you wave the salesmen off empty-handed, he seems a little angered but bids his goodbye and fake come again! as well. You look towards the street and it seems like it’s gotten busier.

“Law’s going to kill me!”

You try fishing through the crowd and scanning for a white spotted hat, or fuzzy white fur, but everyone looks plain and simple. Which makes you think about how you guys kinda stick out like sore thumbs… anyway.

You search and search until you find that signature hat you’re looking for, excuse yourself in between what felt like hundreds of strangers and you catch up to him. You grab his hand in excitement, “Law!” Only for it to be quickly taken back, it was a stranger, with eyes that you’re sure could burn holes into you. You say your little sorry and resume your search.

After a long period of searching you’re drained, physically and mentally. You’re sure that if he found you he’d probably strap you down to your bed and not let you leave.

Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.

You’re defeated, extremely, entirely. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t been outside like this for what felt like forever, maybe it was the fact that the sun was setting now, or even maybe it was ‘cause you needed Law with you the most right now. You find a near bench and just sit.

And maybe that exhaustion finally got the better of you, because you swore you could see his big muscular tattooed figure paired with Bepo's white fur walking towards you as you dose off into a really, really nice sleep.

-

The sound of one—no, two muffled voices wake you from your slumber, your vision is blurry, and if you were right about him saving you, you could hear what you assume to be Law’s medical instruments clacking together. A sound you’ve grown all too familiar with.

“Captain, you don’t think that’s a little harsh?”

“Do you see what she pulled out there?”

Bepo is silent for a bit, then sighs, “If you think it’s best for her.” He leaves the room on his own accord, leaving just you and the very scary man alone.

“I know you’re up.” He calls you with a firmness in his tone.

Much to your unwillingness, you sit up straight, tail between your legs. He looked a bit unkempt, and you couldn't pinpoint if it was because of you or something else. In whatever way, you felt a little guilty.

“Just plain reckless and obnoxious.” He towers over you, “I have a job to complete, and that requires you being taken care of.”

He's pacing around in your room-- the room, of his ship. Not yours. You've never seen him like this. Like he was distressed. He stills and looks at you.

“You’re not coming out the rest of the week. You can wait until Straw Hat comes and picks you up.”

“What am I, a child?" You swing your legs around to meet the floor and pick yourself up.

"With the shit you just pulled, maybe."

With a scoff, "That's low, even for you, Law. It was an honest mistake and you're making it seem like I almost got us killed? You knew what you were getting into when you took me out!" you pinch your nose in a mix of frustration and some previous dizziness. "Sorry I can't be like Robin!"

Huh? Like who?

He immediately looks at you, and sees a little a tiny but of regret in your face. Like you had just got caught with a big secret.

Well maybe, that’s what it was.

“What is your deal with me and your crew mate, huh?”

Your confident demeanor is quick to fade away and if he didn’t know better, he would say that you were almost a bit embarrassed now. He really couldn’t tell what it was. You weren’t angry anymore, that was for certain. You’re not looking at him with those harsh eyes, you’ve been reduced to silence.

It makes him think a bit. He says your name in an attempt to get you to look at him and he succeeds.

“You wouldn’t happen to be…”

“Jealous?”

If there was ever a more dramatic gasp, it certainly couldn’t have topped the one that just came out your mouth. “How dare you! Not one bit!” Suddenly he has this new profound confidence to him, and his frustrations suddenly wiped clean off his mind. He looks at you with his grin all-knowing, and by God you hated when he did that. You wish you could have wiped it off and smacked it off of him.

“So explain to me, what’s the point of mentioning her again?” You don’t realize it, but he’s inching a bit closer while you’re avoiding any and all contact with him, you’re red. Red all over. Cheeks, ears, neck—everywhere. And you don’t know what to do with your hands, you can feel them collect sweat now. You don’t know why. Because his accusation was false.

He’s in front of you now.

“W-What are you doing? Law?” You scan his face because his stare down is relentless and unforgiving, and his hand finds its way up your neck and soon your chin. He’s awfully quiet. It’s unsettling. You put your hands on his chest to hopefully put a halt in the proximity. “Can you please te—”

His mouth is on yours. It’s a little shocking at first but you’re not pulling away.

And you don’t remember closing your eyes and snaking your hands around his neck, and pulling him in, but you do. His own tattooed hands found caressing your body. And the kiss was really, really passionate. He didn’t think it was gonna be this good, but he was wrong.

He was always wrong about you. Wrong about how he didn’t think you were right for him, wrong about your personality, attitude, everything. He really wanted to stay wrong until you would leave and he’d hardly have to see you again. He’s almost pissed he’s letting himself bask in your warmth and intimacy.

But now that he has it, he can’t go without it.

Few words are exchanged, but what he can do is guide you and put you back on your bed with your lips barely still connected trying to reach for each others and you think to yourself, for a man who claims to not have had so much going on in his love life he sure was skilled in whatever this was. He doesn’t want to take them off of yours. He can’t now. Your hands are under his shirt caressing every part of his torso. The feeling of his abs turned you on so much more and you felt your cunt throb a bit. You were aching for his body and he could tell, he takes his lips off yours with a whine from you that follows suit and immediately licks, sucks and kisses your neck, your audible satisfaction letting him know that he’s made you feel great.

“I need you… so bad.” You say in between huffs.

“How can I be so sure you deserve it?” He gets up, and takes his body off of yours, lips glossy. “How do I know that you won’t pass out on me, either?” He disguises his slight worry in a taunting statement, he’d try being as gentle as possible but he couldn’t make any promises.

“I won’t do that, and please Law. It was a mistake, honest. I need you inside. I wanted this so bad. Please!” You tug him by his shirt, urging him to come back down, he doesn’t. He thinks on your words a bit. You wanted this just as much as he did.

“Take your clothes off.”

He laughs at the very quick work you make of taking every single article of clothing, save for your bra and panties, off. There it was, the very image that kept him up for nights, shamefully touching himself to the thought of you on top of him, and him on top of you. Soon he joins, dropping his shirt and jeans and all else except his boxers, to the floor. He returns to your neck, his body on top of yours and you can feel his clothes dick pressing onto your clit ever so slightly, it draws a shaky breath out of you. “Do you know what you do to me?” He slides down your bra to continue his trail of kisses and licks on your nipples. “And you’re worrying about someone else. You’re so pathetic.” You arch impossibly closer into him and start to buck your hips into his crotch.

“Need it sooo bad, put it inside me already, pleaaaaase!” His dick is throbbing in his boxers now. He shakes his head “You’re not prepped.”

“I’m wet enough, please baby. I need you inside of me.” You claw at his chest in an attempt to get what you want.

But he refuses, he can’t. He goes down on you anyways, taking off your panties and the string of wetness that connected from your underwear to your cunt validated your statement. This was straight out of one of his wet dreams; you sprawled out and begging to be filled with his aching cock. He wanted more than anything to make you beg for him like your life depended on it to carry out the fantasy but, he was afraid he was just as desperate as you were right now. He continued and gently presses your legs up, swiping his thumb across your slit to test the waters (literally), your slick gathered onto his thumb and made a great lubricant, but he still wanted to make you feel good.

He licks his thumb clean and settles between your legs and gives your throbbing heat a few lips and sucks on your clit. He can feel you shake underneath him, and he separates your legs by your inner thighs to get a better angle.

The image in front of you made you hot, that’s all you could say about it. It made you hot and shaky and you thought you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you soon, Law hears your pleas, and to temporarily compensate for it, he sticks two fingers into you while he’s practically making out with your clit. You look down with an almost drowsy expression, your moans get so much louder but you don’t even care anymore. He was sexy and he was eating you out. That would be your excuse to anyone who dared to get too close to the door.

His two fingers were pretty big enough to even cause you a bit of trouble alone, and his constant prodding and scissoring made you seethe a bit, but you didn’t care because the pain and the pleasure mixed together made you feel the growing orgasm in your stomach. You shout his name, “I’m gonna— I’m g-gonna cum… mmm~” your whines and moans are breathy.

But he pulls away, and you look to him in shock. He gets up from his position and he’s on his knees in front of you, and he’s threatening the hem of his boxers, you quickly forget about your failed orgasm, knowing the main course was yet to come.

It almost feels like when he pulls down his boxers, time is in slow motion. Maybe because you wanted him extra due to the lack of action you were getting, and your inability to masturbate for the longest time, were you so eager to get him in your pants, nothing prepared you for when he pulled down his underwear.

And now you understood why he wanted to prepare you.

When he pulled them down, his cock shot right up and bounced a little bit before it was like it was staring right at you. You gulp. Because that’s all you could do. And you didn’t even want to look at Law in the eye because you know he was gonna give you some smug and shitty smirk. Like a hypnosis, you get in position and spread your legs further.

“You ready?” He puts one arm next to your head and crouches down a little bit, you can’t even speak. You just hum. You’re expecting him to get it over with, but now he’s just stroking your slit with that absolute beast, “You sure you’re ready?” And now you’re forced to look away from the heavenly scene and into his dumb and beautiful eyes.

“W-What was I saying for like the past 10 minutes? Put it in!” He only chuckles at how you jump at him, demanding him like you have any control. So he slides it in, head only. With your hand on his bicep, digging nails as you’re squeezing him both down there and with your hand that looks for some kind of help in his arm.

He removes his hand that pushes his cock inside and rests in on your chin to bring your eyes up to him, the action was so gentle it could’ve made you forget what was just going down. “Just look at me.” It makes your heart flutter.

And while you do, you feel so much better about the monster that’s sliding into you inch by inch. You furrow your eyebrows at him and chant his name like some sort of ritual. He’s almost all the way in, and the beads of tears in the corner of your eyes make him twitch inside of you with a groan. He looks at you like you hold the answer the all of his problems, like he just wants to be here with you only, and that’s exactly what it was. Like he’d pass away peacefully if it meant he passed away in between your legs.

Once he bottoms out, he stays there a little bit. He gives your lips a quick kiss before he moves into you, elbows on each side of your head. Each thrust is more powerful than the last, and he mentally curses at himself for not removing your bra so that he could see your tits jump freely. You’re on a different planet at this point, nothing has ever felt better. You look into his eyes, then down at what’s connecting you and you swear you could cum right there.

“‘F-Feels… so… good. Hah…” his thrusts find a comfortable pace now, “I feel full and good. Thank yoooouuummmm!” This is what you had been reduced to, thanking him for fucking you.

“Such a fuckin’ slut. Maybe I should keep you all to myself. For good.” His thrusts pick up a little bit now, “Straw Hat’s gonna have to fight me for this.” You whine in response. It took pretty quick for you to start to get cock-drunk off of him. He didn’t take you for the overly sensitive type but here you were, begging him and thanking him for some dick. He would so use that against you later.

He kisses you again, and he’s settled into you a whole lot more. The position changed a little for his body to be closer to yours, and almost in an instant does your skin start slapping against each other. You were a moaning mess, the new position held so much intimacy and so much of him was on you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t stop. I’m almost there, I need it. Need it so bad. Let me have it!”

“Beg a little more.”

“Please, Law! Please! I need you to make me cum! Please, make me cum. Please please please…” and they don’t stop. It looks like his fantasies came to life after all.

He lets you have it because he needs it just as much as you do, the last few thrusts come a little more quick-paced and it’s hitting you in the exact spot you needed to let yourself unfold.

With a loud call to his name, you cum. You came so hard you saw stars. And he just kept fucking you through it.“‘Gonna fill you up.” He grunts and groans in an effort to reach his own moment of bliss and it’s quicker to hit him than he can comprehend, he cums inside of you and shivers a little bit in doing so, finding comfort in the crook of your neck in an effort to cover up how vulnerable he felt in that moment. No women could ever compare. He was a mess for it.

As for his fill inside of you, he’d just use his devil-fruit power to remove it, but right now he absolutely relished in the way it so effortlessly leaked out of you. You were his, officially.

Collecting his own self, he pushes himself off of you, “You’re not going cold on me, are you?” He gets up off of the comfortable position once again, peering down at your fucked-out state.

“Would you give me a second? I thought you fucked me into another dimension for like half a minute.” You huff. He gives you your time while you catch your breath, he’s rubbing circles on each side of your hips to help alleviate the strain—well that’s the doctor for you. He’ll fuck you into the mattress and then help your muscles de-stress. You couldn’t deny the gentleness and how kind the gesture was and you soften up a bit.

“Get on your hands and knees when you’re ready.” You’re up hilariously quick. And he’s already half hard from waiting for you. Your figure from the back was something he’d think back on for many nights, but getting to see your face was beyond compare.

You whimper, “I’m ready, c’mon!” You comedically and desperately wiggle your ass in front of him, he wants to laugh but it was really fucking sexy, the way you yearned for him, and he holds your hip with one hand, lining himself up once again. The hard part wasn’t so difficult this time around, and he pushes himself inside of you a little too eagerly, almost giving away his own very need. He starts to thrust into you again, and being inside of you was like heaven on earth. Though it wasn’t even 2 minutes that he was fucking you before, he was sensitive this time around, and he had to go slower to start.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” You hum a moan in a little more than approval. He’s sliding into you, watching how his cock disappears into you.

The best thing about this position is how you wouldn’t be able to see his face, how pussy-whipped he looked. If he went any faster he could cum, so he needed to start slow.

You were far past the sensual and slowness. You needed it fast and hard. “Law, go faster!”

“Don’t call me by my name. What do you call me in this room? On this ship?” Very bold in his proclamation. But he can feel your hesitance.

He smacks your ass, and you jump a bit, clenching around him very tightly. “I said, what do you call me?”

“C-Captain, please… please go faster.”

But he stops. And he swears he might be torturing his own self more, if it meant for how much you begged and whined for it, though, he wasn’t disappointed.

“If you want to go faster so bad, fuck me yourself.”

You almost want to cry from how brutal he sounded, but the vulgarity of his words makes you clench around him again. And so, you start to thrust back into him, fucking him while he watched you.

With the first few thrusts you’re already clutching the sheets below you, and it’s taking more power than you thought it would. You can’t bring yourself to stop, though. The way it felt, it was too good.

“How does it feel?”

“S-So good, Cap.” Your eyes rolled into your skull.

“You gonna make your captain cum?”

“Mhhmm~”

With a breathy voice he says, “Guess this is my reward for taking such good care of you, huh? All paid off. I don’t usually get this special treatment from my usual patients.”

“I’m n-not a usual… patient.” You hardly breathe out.

He grips both sides of your hips to make you stop in your movement and he shuffles a bit, not long after is he asking you, “Are you gonna be good from now on?”. You say yes, a thousand times over. He moves like he did before, only just picking up his thrusts quicker and quicker. The sound of his skin meeting yours makes its return only louder. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Couldn’t possibly be. You’re too special. Made just for me.”

“Yes *thrust* Captain! *thrust*”

His leg is raised to the side to get a better angle into your cunt and he feels a second orgasm quickly approaching. He’s so sweaty, drenched. His hair clings onto his forehead and his hands can barely take grip on your skin anymore. Fuck, he moans. He’s getting dizzy now. This is the best he’s felt in a while.

You, on the other hand, have your face pressed in the sheets with your orgasm on quick approach. You’re sensitive, too sensitive. And you cum with a loud whine, all your liquids spraying onto him like it was comical. He came not so far after you, with his head falling back and a breathy moan.

You both try to catch your breaths before he felt on top of you. He kissed your shoulder as his own little thank you and rolled over on the very much drenched mattress. You lay on top of him while your whole body shook and he quickly wraps his arm around your figure.

You both sit in a comfortable silence go try catching your breaths and try to pace yourselves so you could relax. And surprisingly, Law is the first to speak.

“Never pinned you for the jealous type.”

“Oh would you quit it already? You’re so good at ruining soft moments!” You push him lightly, you roll over on the other side of the mattress and he immediately grabs you back. He was so annoying.

If he asked you to stay with him, would you have done it? No, that was wishful thinking. He’s seen with his own very eyes how much Straw Hat loved you. This is the thing he dread the most about this, he shouldn’t have done it. He brought you into his own sick and dark fantasy of keeping you here just for him and now he regrets it completely. It was wishful thinking on his end, all of it.

“‘This a one time thing?” He asks to try and ground himself.

But you’re quick, “No, better not be!” You get up and sit on the bed, and he doesn’t understand how you’re up. He should be the one to get up. “Unless you declare me your enemy once I leave.” Your fingers are dancing on his chest, tracing the tattoos on his body, “But I’m fine with being with you like this. It can be our little secret anytime we see each other. Especially that captain thing, you freak.”

He laughs, and your words do bring him that relief. He pulls you by your arm for a tender kiss, something you were a bit surprised by.

He was fine with it, he’d take what he can get for now, as long it meant he could be with you.

[swtt4hk]

Come back to me || Sang-woo X fem!Reader (Oneshot)

author’s note: if you feel uncomfortable with sexual content please don’t read it because this one’s a little smutty…enjoy!

You are sitting on a chair , in the balcony of your apartment. You are thinking about how far you’ve come ever since you moved here , two years ago. So many things have changed. When you came here , you were in a long-term relationship with the love of your life , Cho Sang-woo. You unfortunately had to break up because you were constantly fighting…you didn’t even know what you were fighting about , you were just fighting and fighting and fighting…The break up really affected your life , it made you depressed and even drove you to the point of thinking about killing yourself. Losing the person you thought you’d spent your life with was the worst thing to ever happen to you. But of course , you had to move on. You tried your best to make new friends and meet new people until you met him.

Kai. Kai was a guy your age , who you met via your friend group. He is a really nice guy and showed interest in you from the first time you met. You found him adorable and some weeks after getting to know each other , you got into a relationship with him.

Being in a relationship with Kai was definitely a big step for you. It meant you had to get over your past lovers and focus on Kai…which meant you had to stop thinking about Sang-woo. Which was extremely difficult for you. Sometimes you unconsciously thought about him or even talked about him like he was still in your life…for you , he was still a big part of your life. You always wondered if he feels the same. If he constantly thinks about you and wonders what you’re doing. If you’re still a big part of Sang-woo’s life. You both definitely weren’t happy about breaking up but that’s what had to happen.

Your relationship with Kai was totally different. New feelings , new experiences, everything is new to you. But it still doesn’t feel like when you were with Sang-woo. You can’t lie to yourself, you surely aren’t as much in love as Kai is with you but you’re trying you’re best to treat him right and not do anything that will hurt his feelings. And talking about feelings…Kai is sensitive. You are the type of person to say everything to people’s faces and when you do that to Kai he cries , which was not something Sang-woo would do. Sang-woo actually loved when you did that. He said that it’s better than lie to his face. Sang-woo was also a gentleman. You don’t know if it was because of the age gap or if he was just like this but he was such a gentleman to you…it pisses you off when Kai opens the door and enters first and sometimes even close the door in your face. There are a lot of things pissing you off about Kai but you’re still trying to love him. You can’t be stuck loving a person who isn’t in your life anymore.

All those thoughts fill your head as the sun sets which means it’s almost time to go to bed. You aren’t exactly a night owl , you like sleeping early so it’s easier for you to get up for work. You get up from your chair , all the thoughts leaving your head , and you head to the kitchen to eat some dinner before you head to bed.

TIME SKIP

today is Saturday which means that you don’t have to go to work. You wake up early and get ready to enjoy your Saturday. You usually wake up pretty early because you like watching the sun rise while drinking you morning coffee. It brings you some kind of comforting feeling inside you. You make your regular morning coffee and you sit on the balcony to watch the sun rise. Your phone rings.

“Kai💕”

You let out a long sigh. It pisses you off that he ruined your peace but he’s still your boyfriend and you have to pick up the phone.

“Hello , love? How’s your morning going?”

He says in a cheerful demeanour

“Good morning Kai , it’s going pretty good actually , thank you”

“How about I make it even more better?”

You unconsciously smile to yourself, wondering what he’s about to say

“I’m all ears…”

“Come on , open the door”

You freeze

“The door? My door?”

You can hear his chuckle through the phone

“Yes Y/N your door. Come on , I can’t keep waiting out here for too long! I’m tired of standing up!”

You hang up and rush to the door to open it. There he is. He’s standing in front of you with a bag of your favourite snacks on one hand and a bouquet of flowers on the other. Even though he’s not much of a gentleman he loves giving you gifts. Even if they’re cheap and simple ones.

“Oh my God , Kai , you didn’t have to!”

You take the things on your hands and let him come in

“Oh shush it was my pleasure to get you those gifts…what are you waiting for , open the snacks!”

You chuckle at his impatience and open one of the snacks and start eating them.

You spend the whole day together and then you decide to bake something together but you’re unfortunately missing some of the ingredients so you go to the convenience store near by…whose owner happens to be Sang-woo’s dad…of course you haven’t mentioned that to Kai ,because of how jealous he gets when you mention your ex especially Sang-woo , but you still go there often and you still talk to his dad since you’ve built a nice friendship with him over the years.

You both enter the store and you freeze. It’s him. Behind the register is the man of your dreams. Cho Sang-woo.

“Y/N! Is that the baking powder you asked for?”

You hear the faint voice of Kai’s in the backround. You don’t respond. Words can’t come out of your mouth. You are just staring at each other , all the memories coming back.

Kai approaches you

“Babe , can you please help me? I don’t know which brand is better…”

Sang-woo looks at you with a look of question , still frozen in place with all that’s happened in a matter of seconds. You turn to Kai with a smile and respond.

“Of course , my Kai , let’s go”

You usually don’t call Kai yours or any other nicknames but you responded this way to make Sang-woo jealous. You didn’t know why you wanted to make him jealous , since you’re supposed to have moved on , but you still did it.

Sang-woo was quietly watching you two chatting and laughing while shopping. He could see how in love Kai looked with you and how you smiled at him and hugged him…oh…he realised how much he has missed that smile and the warmth of your embrace…it’s like he can still feel it after two years of being broken up…he misses you so much…he has regretted all the pain he has caused to you and wishes you would come back to him but you seem like you have moved on. It makes his blood boil seeing you being happy with another guy. It was supposed to be him , not Kai.

“Hello sir , we would like those please”

Kai says and places the things on the register. You stand beside him , looking down nervously, avoiding eye contact with Sang-woo. The last thing you need in your life right now is drama which involves Sang-woo in it.

“22,6 ₩”

Sang-woo says coldly. He couldn’t hide with jealousy and frustration and you knew how jealous he is feeling right now. And you know how he acts when he’s jealous. He might seem calm but inside him , he’s screaming.

When you get cashed out , you quickly drag Kai out of the store and go back home to cook to distract yourself from everything that just happened.

Time Skip

days pass and your mind keeps going back to your interaction with Sang-woo. The whole situation makes you nervous. Your ex seeing you with your new boyfriend. It sounds like a soap opera.

Today you have a day off work but ,unfortunately , Kai is working so you have more time to yourself so you decide to go on a relaxing walk to the park. The park wasn’t a random destination you chose to go to for a walk. You used to go there with Sang-woo and just talk about life. It relaxed you both. You knew that Sang-woo still goes there since he used to go there even before you guys got together.

Walking with your headphones on makes you feel relaxed. It’s like an escape from this cruel world we’re living in to you. You keep walking and there he is. He’s sitting on a bench , watching the view of kids running around and playing. You used to do that together. You used to look at the little kids and talking about the family you’d build together after you got married. The feeling of seeing him doing this alone makes you feel sick to the stomach but that’s what fate wanted. Maybe it didn’t want you to be together.

You take a deep breath and keep walking like nothing happened. You’re not supposed to be feeling like this while you’re in a relationship. But you’ve missed Sang-woo so much…the way he touched you , the way he would comfort you , the way he would whisper sweet things to your ear while stretching your pussy. All those things are nothing but a memory now.

“For how long are you gonna be ignoring me?”

You hear a familiar voice behind you…Cho Sang-woo.

You can’t do anything else but turn around. Your eyes go immediately to his. His eyes are sparkling , like he’s holding back tears but is trying to play rough and his hands are in fists , his knuckles white.

“Cho Sang-woo…”

You whisper. You don’t know why but you felt like you had to say his name. You hadn’t said it in so long.

“Y/N L/N…” {L/N = last name!!}

You just look at each other , all the memories coming back once again. You can feel some kind of connection between you , like there’s something unfinished that has to be finished. That’s when you realised. You need Sang-woo in your life. He’s the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. No matter how many pointless arguments you’ve had , most of your memories were happy. But…what about Kai?

Sang-woo could feel it too. He felt the tension in the air and the connection between you. He had never gotten over you and never tried you. He’s been waiting for you. For some reason , he had a feeling that you’d come back in some way. And you did…and now that you’re back , he’s not going to let you go. Ever.

“Sang-woo I—“

Sang-woo cuts you off

“I don’t need to hear any excuses…”

Silence.

“Y/N…”

Sang-woo takes a step closer to you

“I’ve been waiting for you…”

He says softly and places his hand on your cheek , caressing it. And there it is…the butterflies in your stomach…you haven’t felt like this in so long. His touch is so familiar and you immediately melt into his touch , without realising it. A tear rolls down your cheek.

Words are not enough to explain how you both feel to finally be able to touch , feel and see each other again. It all felt familiar yet so new…new feelings that you haven’t felt before…in that moment , you made your decision. You had to break up with Kai , even if it was gonna be a hard process to tell him without making him feel hurt. You slowly pull back from his touch.

“U-um…I have to go somewhere”

You say and quickly leave without saying another word. Sang-woo neither reacted not responded. He knew you were gonna come back.

You go back home as quickly as possible. As soon as you arrive, you can’t help but break into tears. You found Sang-woo again and it made you so happy…he made you so happy. But you had to hurt someone to get back with Sang-woo. Kai. You knew that gonna get hurt but it’s the right decision.

Nearly an hour later , you hear a knock on your door. It’s time. You welcome Kai with a kind and soft smile and you both sit on the couch.

“So what did you wanna talk about?”

Kai asks , clueless about what’s about to come. You take a deep breath before responding.

“I’m breaking up with you”

For some reason , Kai doesn’t react but instead he nods like he knew that this was coming.

“It’s him , isn’t it?”

You freeze

“W-what?”

“You know who I’m talking about…”

you know who he’s talking about. Tears roll down your face and take Kai’s hands into yours.

“I’m so sorry Kai…”

Kai smiles softly

“It’s okay Y/N…I’ll be okay , don’t worry…”

“I-I’m really sorry Kai…I-I didn’t mean to waste your time and—“

“Shhh…it’s all okay…I know…you tried your best…and thank you for spending all this time with me , trying to love me…but you have to go back to him…I know how happy he makes you.”

“H-How did you know…?”

Kai chuckles

“I’ve seen the way your eyes sparkle whenever you mention him and…the way you looked at each other at the store was obvious how in love you are with each other…the fact that I’m ignoring it doesn’t mean I don’t notice it…”

You look down in embarrassment. Of course it’s obvious. It has been obvious all this time that you never got over Sang-woo.

“I’m sorry…”

Kai looks at you with a soft smile on his face even though he’s fighting back tears.

“Go…”

You wipe your tears and you both get up , get out of your house and say one last goodbye to each other.

“Thank you Kai…”

“Thank you Y/N.”

You watch him disappear into the light of the evening sun which is almost set. You calm yourself down and take the courage to finally go to Sang-woo’s house. A new chapter of your life was about to start.

You softly knock at his door and it slowly opens , revealing the familiar figure of Sang-woo. With no hesitation, Sang-woo pull you into the house , shuts the door and kisses you. You both melt into the kiss and you can feel the love and desire in your bodies. Before you know it , clothes are on the floor , your bodies are sweaty while he’s pounding into you like a greedy old man who hasn’t had sex in years.

“You’re taking me so well darling , I bet he didn’t make you feel as good as I do , hm?”

No words can come out of your mouth and you just moan at the pleasure he’s giving you right now. You haven’t felt so good ever since you two broke up.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He says and his pace gets faster and faster , making you come close and closer to cumming.

“Fuck , you’re so tight…”

He groans and then you both moan in sync as you both finally release. After coming down from your high , he lays down next to you , wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck.

“I missed you so much…”

He says softly and places a kiss on your neck , making you smile.

“I missed you too my love…sooo muchh…”

You respond and caress his hair softly as you both slowly drift into sleep.

———————————————————————

THE ENDDD! I’m sorry that it took so long for me to write it but I got kinda lazy halfway 😓 anyway , I apologise if it’s poorly written , ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE and I’m sorry if the smut part was kind of cringe but I’ve never written a smut before lmao😭 WHATEVER , new fics coming soon!

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 14. The mental and physical settings

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2k

— A/N: I'm back again! This chapter immediately follows the previous one, and a plot is forming in this lady's head. She just needs to convince Feyd to play along 😅 Enjoy reading, my dears! 💗

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu @wo-ming-bai @torossosebs @mrsjobarnes

What social inheritances went outward with the Scattering? We know those times intimately. We know both the mental and physical settings. The Lost Ones took with them a consciousness confined mostly to manpower and hardware. There was a desperate need for room to expand driven by the myth of Freedom. — The Scattering: Bene Gesserit Analysis

She found Feyd by following the troops. He was in the command room, pacing along a shivering holo-map. The mentats, relieved of their posts, were muttering among themselves in sparse syllables in the back of the room. They turned quiet when she entered.

“You,” said Feyd, calling her to him with a curl of his pale finger. “Come here.”

“Yes, my lord na-Baron?”

“You remember that advice you gave me once?”

She did… She suggested he pull back the attacks, just enough to bait the Fremen into exposing themselves. “Yes,” she answered as she stopped beside him, her hands folded at her lap.

“I don’t suppose you have a follow-up plan in the event that it worked?”

“I’m glad to hear my words bore fruit.”

“Don’t try to be funny,” he grumbled.

“I’m not.”

“We’re about to send in an echelon of 60 units but the scouts we sent ahead never returned.”

“Then it might be a bad idea to send in the echelon.”

“But we can’t just leave them there,” said Feyd, pacing up and down the length of the long holo-map.

She stepped softly behind him, watching the way his shoulders tensed beneath the pauldrons, the trembling in his spine, his restless legs.

“They would’ve gone in knowing the risk. If they’re lost, they —”

“I mean the Fremen,” he growled. “We can’t let them think they can crawl across Arrakis whenever they please, not anymore.”

Her instinct was to advise against it. It was not in Feyd’s interest to conquer Arrakis, not really. He was just trying to please his uncle, she realised, which was why he was so tense, so scared even with an army all around him. But there was no use trying to explain that to him. It would be too blunt, too clumsy, and have the opposite effect. Feyd, in spite of what he claimed, desired a gentler hand.

“Why not post new scouts?” she offered, walking to his side. “Feign retreat and follow these rogue Fremen. See where they come from, where they hide. Then, you might eliminate the lot.”

“They live in colonies, like vermin,” said Feyd, shaking his head. “They could slip through underground tunnels to fuck knows where.”

She cast her eyes over the map, its surface bending in thin threads of light. Behind her, she could feel the stares of the Harkonnens, all of them suspicious of a ‘witch’ and unhappy to see her at their na-Baron’s side, but too scared to speak.

“I still think it would be pointless to strike at them impulsively,” she said. “If you never know how many occupy the planet, how can you plan for further attacks? How can you calculate the cost of the reserves and equipment you’ll need? How can you forecast economic costs or surplus? Even your mentats could tell you how futile it is to engage in large-scale combat in these circumstances.”

“Which is why I’m not asking a mentat,” he hissed, cold eyes sliding to her.

She chewed on her lower lip as she thought. “You say they are like vermin… They do behave more like the Arrakis wildlife... But they have the reasoning abilities of any conscious being. They are trying to wait you out, encircle you, pick away at you, and use what they have available to them — which is the environment, and specialised information… You must cut off at least one.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the table. “Any other advice you can offer? Try something a little more vague this time.”

She treated him with a cold look yet couldn’t help but smile. He was endearing when he was acting like a bratty little boy.

“You could make the environment less recognisable to them. Cut off their usual pathways, destroy, construct, expand. Or… you could find out the information they keep from you, such as what their true numbers are, where they hide, how they use spice, how they use worms, what technology —”

“They’re savages, they don’t have technology.”

“Everyone has technology. Especially people who can survive in a place like this.”

She could tell Feyd wanted to say something sarcastic again, but instead, he turned his gaze upon the map and thought about what she said.

“Sir?” mumbled one of the men behind him, a commander by his uniform. “What should we tell the troops?”

“Send more scouts,” said Feyd at last, turning away from the map and putting distance between them with long strides. “Would be stupid to risk our numbers blindly.”

“Yes, sir.”

She followed him quietly out of the room and allowed herself a moment of satisfaction. He’d actually listened to her… Perhaps saving herself from that cursed planet wasn’t so unlikely after all, and she might even save him too.

“Do you want to have dinner together?” she asked, falling in step with him.

“You’re not protecting them, are you?”

“Who?”

“The Fremen.”

“No,” she frowned. “Why would I protect them?”

He didn’t answer, but his silence spoke. He was conscious of the difference between them — not only that between a Harkonnen and a Bene Gesserit, but that between a Harkonnen and anyone else. They were a House isolated by their culture, their toxic planet, even by their appearance… And so he naturally saw her as having more in common with the natives of Arrakis than with him.

“The sooner you defeat the Fremen, the sooner things normalise,” she quietly said. “But you can’t defeat them with brutal methods. Their whole culture was shaped by brutality.”

Feyd didn’t look at her as they walked together, swift and remote. “So you want things to relax enough that you can finally escape, is that it?”

She grew cold at his implication. Had she not indulged his every mood? Had she not forgiven him his aggressions, violations, absorbed them within herself to let them bloom? He was being an ungrateful boy — but he was not completely wrong.

“I know I can’t escape,” she said, somewhat resentfully. “No Guild transporter is going to come down here just for me, and I mean nothing to the Sisterhood. Nobody is coming to save me. But…”

“Yes?” he said, turning to look at her as they reached the dining room.

“But don’t you too want to escape from here?”

He scoffed. “I can’t escape. I rule this planet.”

“And, you don’t want to escape?”

He evaded her gaze and walked into the room, closing the wide doors behind them. The stomping of the troops became a distant echo. He kept her at a distance as he went to sit down and angrily rang the bell that called the servants in. She sat opposite him while they filled the table with small dishes carrying elegant meals, and poured the both of them tall glasses of water — enough for an Arrakeen family to live off of for a month. Feyd watched on with pale furrowed brows, and she watched him. She knew her words had woken something in him.

As soon as the servants were gone, she rested her wrists on the edge of the table and leaned forward.

“What did it mean to you, when I asked you that?”

“What?”

“When I asked if you wanted to escape.”

“It sounded like treason,” said Feyd, gazing from beneath his lashes as he cut into his food.

“It’s only a question.”

“It’s a suggestion. I’m not stupid.”

“It’s not a suggestion,” she said, leaning back and nearly slouching. “I can’t do anything on this planet without you.”

“Ah,” he chuckled. “So is that why you want to escape? You don’t want to be mine anymore?”

“If that were so, why would I ‘suggest’ that you escape, too?” she countered with a smirk.

Feyd frowned at her again but kept on eating. He twirled his fork around a spread of moss, oily and black with stars of golden spice shining on its surface, and dragged it through a verdant sauce of pickled seaweed. He ate delicately, reminding her of how different he was from his uncle.

“If you were so upset with me because of it, you’d have killed me already,” she muttered, finally turning to her plate.

“Maybe I want to enjoy you one last time.”

She sighed. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me. You’re the one who wanted to know what I was thinking.”

“And this is it?” he asked, looking at her again. “You’ve been thinking of running away?”

It was tempting to say yes and be done with it, to bear the brunt of his anger, which was already bubbling to the surface. But she remained in her relaxed pose and brought a small morsel of food from her plate to her lips and let the fork linger between them.

“If I did, would you chase me?” she asked somewhat playfully.

And just as she expected, a flame flickered in Feyd’s eyes. Because he was a bratty little boy, and he liked playing, and he resented having to manage Arrakis when instead he could enjoy himself… The prestige in the eyes of his uncle mattered less and less to him each day, and no amount of tall glasses of water, however luxurious on that planet, were enough for him when there was a whole universe out there.

“Flirting won’t save you,” he managed to say.

“Are you suggesting I need to be saved?”

“I am.”

“From what?”

“From me.”

She smiled at him as she twirled her fork across her plate. “I would’ve thought it’s from this planet. Just like you.”

He sighed and tried to distract himself with drinking, gulping half the glass of water in one go. “I regret ever asking you about it,” said Feyd as he slammed it back down. “You’re just lucky I’m the one in charge here. Anyone else would’ve had your head cut off and hung you upside down to drain the blood for moisture.”

She could have chuckled if she didn’t think he’d take it the wrong way. Underneath his threats was a genuine concern and hurt at the mere suggestion of her leaving him one day. He couldn’t even look at her while he mumbled his threats. In fact, he’d never seemed more harmless.

But she was certain her words had set his imagination going, a welcome respite after the troubles of the day. She would have to be on her best behaviour that night to let his thoughts and feelings settle, to make him sweet toward her again, and bring him back to her. It wouldn’t be difficult, it never was.

Although he seemed not to enjoy it much, he finished his dinner, and she did too. And as they walked together to the bedroom they shared, shadows dancing on the walls, she wondered if the spice melange was playing tricks on her, making her dizzy and giddy and almost self-destructive around him. She had had too much that morning too, she recalled, and her meditations had been troubled afterwards. But if she was struggling, how must Feyd feel? He had less of a capacity to modulate poisons in his system… And yet he indulged in it. Perhaps he’d used so much that he’d gained a tolerance for it. He was more at ease after dinner than before it, but his eyes were darkened, his lips a little red, and when she took his armour off that night his skin felt hot and sticky.

Was he seeing things too, she wondered… Did he have the same sort of visions she had had — of white shores and crashing waves and pale sea spraying on his skin? He looked at her with the same sort of longing he did when he felt loneliness threatening him, as if he were at once in the comforting present, with her arms around him as she pulled him down to bed, and at the same time in a horrible future with all of its uncertainties.

“It’s alright,” she whispered as her warm hands cupped his cheek. He curled up by her side and laid his head down on her shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

[katzkinder]

There is so much interesting stuff in the guidebook I'm slowly getting through, especially the q&a section, also the fact that lawless tends to turn people who he already cared about/has a connection with makes me think he's turned atleast some of his eves into subclasses

Agreed. I bet it was a deeply unpleasant surprise for him to discover that turning an Eve into a subclass apparently erases their memories of being an Eve. I wonder how far that goes? Is it just an entirely blank slate for that duration of time? Or is it more like… The “eve” specific parts become muddled and they’re unable to draw them out again? Like a recall problem.

As a side note, I really like that Strike was very insistent on the idea that the names are lost and can’t be recovered by refusing to answer any questions regarding a Servamp’s past name under a different eve, aside from Lawless, whose name you can figure out by rereading chapter 33, allegedly.

Similarly, I bet the experience in and of itself is frustrating for a Servamp. Like… Trying to recall it if they wished to. A perpetual sensation of something sitting on the tip of their tongue… not that it’s a problem anymore. Thanks to Sloth pair, apparently the Servamps will no longer lose their names when their eves die. I’m especially glad for Lawless because his Item was something with his name carefully carved on it. It would be a waste and a pity for something that precious to be lost to him, don’t you think?

I really like the idea that the current batch of names is something they’ll all happily cling to not just as proof of their existence as “people” but reminders that, someone, at one point, called them something beautiful. The sentiments of their human partners exist in those names. For a similar reason to Sakuya not wanting to discard his human name because it’s something his big sister called him many times… The memory of the voice of a loved one calling them that name is also an important one they’re going to hold very close to their hearts.

[winteringdream]

coffee date? — park sungho

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" The boy that had just spilled coffee all over your pants exclaims, his hands already reaching into his pocket, searching for tissues. You hadn't even had a good look at him, he just suddenly appeared out of nowhere, spilling the contents of his cup onto your jeans.

He's quite tall, you notice when he finally stands up straight, his eyes meeting yours. A slight twinkle in his eyes when he notices how pretty you are.

"It's fine," You tell him, though you were kind of bummed out that your date with yourself had turned out this way. You hadn't even done anything yet, and now you would have to take a trip back home to change pants before heading back out again. Maybe it was a sign to not go out by yourself anymore.

"No, no, no." The boy replies a little embarassed, "I refuse to let you go like this, I mean. Let me buy you a new pair of jeans."

Was he rich? Why would he propose to buy a new pair of pants for a stranger he accidentally spilled coffee on?

Sungho didn't know why he said that, he was mesmerised, desperate to spend just a little more time with you.

When the two of you reach the entrance of the mall, you’re both laughing, the tension from earlier long gone. Sungho had offered his jacket to you, to hide the stain on your pants. You find out he more charming than you thought.

Inside, the store isn’t too far, and you spend a few minutes picking out a new pair of jeans, joking back and forth about what looks good and what doesn’t.

Sungho stands beside you, patiently waiting for you to find a perfect pair of jeans. You find yourself actually enjoying the company, which you hadn’t expected at all.

Finally, you pick out a pair of dark wash jeans after trying on numerous jeans. To your surprise, Sungho didn't look irritated in the slightest way, even though you had taken a little while to pick a pair you liked.

The two of you head to the checkout, and Sungho insists on paying, his earlier embarrassment now completely replaced with a determined, almost playful energy.

After the cashier hands you the bag with your new jeans, Sungho hesitates for a moment before speaking, his voice a little quieter now.

“So, I know this is going to sound super forward,” He starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I was wondering if maybe after all this, you’d be interested in letting me take you out for dinner sometime? You know, to make up for spilling coffee on you and to actually get to know you better?”

You tilt your head, considering his offer. You’d had a nice time today despite the somewhat unfortunate circumstances. Sungho was easy to talk to, and his humor managed to lighten up the situation.

Plus, he seemed so sincere about wanting to make things right. It was impossible to ignore the way he looked at you with that slight twinkle in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” you say playfully, raising an eyebrow. “You did spill coffee on me. I’m not sure I can forgive you that easily.”

He bites his lip, trying to look serious, but the look on his face gives him away.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise I’m not always this clumsy. Dinner, anywhere you want to go, and no more coffee disasters, I promise.”

You laugh, shaking your head, but something inside you feels unexpectedly warm. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you now, like he really wants to make a good impression. Or maybe it’s just that you haven’t felt this kind of lighthearted energy in a while.

“Alright, Sungho,” you say, softening, your smile widening. “You’ve got yourself a date. But if you spill anything on me again, I'm not sure that I can forgive you again.”

He grins, his face lighting up with relief. “Deal! I’ll be on my best behavior. You won’t regret it.”

As you both step out of the store, he walks alongside you, a little more confidently now. It's like you've known him for longer than a few hours, but there was still more to get to know, and you were excited to get to know him more.

“I’m really looking forward to that date,” Sungho mumbles to himself, secretly hoping you'd hear him.

You smile, feeling a twinge of excitement. “Me too, Sungho.”

[shoot-i-messed-up]

pspsps..... you should say your clarkollie thoughts....... im lady mcbething u...... prettee pls :3

TY FOR ASKING <33 but it’s honestly just my various thoughts on Clark showing up in Green Arrow (2001), most of which I’ve already said before I think

Because iirc Clark was the last person who saw Ollie, and Clark could’ve technically saved Ollie at the price of Ollie losing his arm and not being able to shoot anymore, so Oliver died

So even after Ollie reunites w the rest of the JL, Clark and Ollie have a special scene where Ollie’s like “we both need this” and they’re just like gimlet eyed looking at each other, and I feel like it’s SO easy to envision a fic where it leads in with that line and then they fuck nasty about it (metaphorically) (but also maybe literally)

When I was talking to my friend about clarkollie and how insane that line sounded, she was like… so they literally just care about each other as people. And I couldn’t even defend them, hence my reblog of that post

I did look at the clarkollie tag and saw, to my complete surprise, that there’s actually hundreds of clarkollie fics??? Like 3 or 4 times the amount that superlantern has??? Until I realized oh. That’s bc of Smallville. If u take out smallville, Clarkollie only has like 3 fics iirc

(I’m talking abt comics clarkollie, in case that wasn’t apparent before lmao)

I think Clarkollie is interesting because, like, usually when Clark goes around with a powerless fellow superhero, it’s going to be Bruce/Batman (who always gets gassed up by comics or shows as being so smart that he’s equal to Clark) or even Steel AKA John Henry Irons (whose Iron Man ahh suit basically means he does have superpowers in practice)

But Superman going around with Green Arrow? I think there’s room for thinking about that power dynamic that could cause friction in their already kinda tenuous relationship. I swear somewhere in a comic, Superman says a line about how he and Ollie never got along (that I then stole for my fic Embarcation), and it’s pretty clear from Green Arrow (2001) that Ollie thinks of Superman as being adjacent to The Man he’s always trying to stick it to. There’s also that panel from like the 80’s or smth iirc (I am probs not) where Ollie is like “sometimes I wonder if the rest of the JLA are just humoring me and giving me easy missions because I’m literally just a guy with a bow,” and Superman is so…the opposite of that. Idk. Food for thought.

There’s also the fact that Ollie is infamously leftist, and while I do think Superman has to be leftist because of…everything about him (I can’t remember exactly, but I believe his very first adventure was him breaking into a senator’s house to tell him a person on death row was innocent or something along those lines), I think in modern times, he’s been written to be more constrained in his political actions in his superhero persona due to being a symbol. I could easily imagine Ollie criticizing Clark for not doing more activism, for not using his symbol for more. Like instead of in Hard Traveling Heroes where Ollie teaches Hal to be less ignorant (a horrible oversimplification but bear with me), Ollie could help Clark find a stronger balance between being a symbol and using that symbol for good? (Although I think “help” would be a strong word there)

Also, In Green Arrow 2001 Dinah tells a woman that “the good [men] do the dishes” iirc, a pointed statement against Oliver. It reminds me of that tweet that criticizes “leftist” men who leave their household chores/management to their gfs/wives, much like their conservative counterparts. I think this is an interesting contrast to depictions of married!Clark where he’s a loyal and dutiful husband to Lois.

In conclusion: Idk!!! Could be interesting!! I would find clarkollie more interesting as friends than lovers, but I’m using the ship name just because it’s easier to talk about that dynamic that way.

[thequasarwinds]

Yeah I completely get y’all’s sentiment!

Honestly it makes sense though, Amanda is effectively more of a main character then Riley is, so it makes sense it focuses on her

I’m honestly glad there’s not much mystery behind her at the moment- I mean I’m saddened that we can’t theorize as much anymore

but from my perspective as a writer, I’m just so so so relieved I don’t have to be guessing on canon information with her now

it is VERY frustrating trying to write a story when the source is so so vague and everything is up in the air- you’ll have something down and then a BIG thing in canon will come along and you’d need to rewrite everything

Especially because I tend to write more characters centric stories- it’s really really relieving not having to guess as much

but I totally understand because it’s..just a little sad ya know? Theorizing IS very fun and interesting to do!

I just hope Wooly doesn’t turn out to be bad or anything

he’s really just a scared kid just like Amanda is it’d be very..I guess I feel like it would be kind of breaking the “themes” of the story if they had it be like that

Y’know I feel like since we got a Wooly monster revealed in the true ending of ATA 2, ATA 3 is gonna be a pretty Wooly-centric game that’ll show more of his sinister side.

Idk why I just get that feeling.

[bitchslapblastoids]

Was thinking about how much of a normo I come across as irl, how I’ve felt a lil odd person out at their shows bc of being a bit older (29) and looking so aggressively normal, how generally confused people in my life would be if they knew about my d&p obsession, how thoroughly i mask weirder traits and essentially codeswitch to suit the mainstream, etc.

i feel kind of fish out of water when I imagine how all the people that populate my tumblr phandom ecosystem are likely presenting to the world irl (I.e. more visibly queer, counterculture, and so on). But then I think maybe the most visible phannies are the ones with the most curated, alt, deliberate daytoday lewks/style? So maybe what I’m picturing is off base? But then I’m also basing this off of what audiences look like in audience footage, m&gs, etc.

Sooooooo i would like to know… do you guys feel like you present as someone who may be Deeply Online and obsessed with two gay nerds from the internet? Or do you hide it and fly under the radar, masking as a total normy and living a double life?

(To clarify I don’t mean you’re like out and about wearing the fringes boob sweatshirt lol I more mean vibes and overall lewk yk?)

[pepperpixel]

SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS,

BUT HE HATES WHEN I ACT CRAZY,

IT TAKES TWO TO TOXIC!

FINALLY!!! Finished these pics of jinx I’ve been working on!!!!! HOLY SHIT, these took so long…. But finally… they’re done… pls enjoy this art of my beautiful princess w a disorder. Featuring alternate colors for the big pic and also a closeup! Cuz I rlly like how both the lines and coloring on her face turned out… like the pink gradients w her eye… her deer in headlights expression,, like uve just startled a raccoon digging thru ur trashcan and r two seconds away from getting mauled.. m proud of it!

[creative-robot]

I know The Founders Cut, generally, is the edited scrubbed over version of genloss from Showfall in-universe (as well as a not-8-hour-long-three-stream-binge-night whenever we want to watch it again) but something that struck me as odd and I haven’t seen anyone mention yet, is this warning

It shows up right at the junction where the third act starts, where it appears the Hero is breaking free of Showfall thanks to Hetch. But here’s the thing, while a LOT less than the previous acts the audience still played a significant role in this act, even when really only given two audience interaction choices. Which makes me wonder, how real is this warning, and who is it for? Obviously the audience involved knows what happens past this point, but the audience is also implied to be an integral part of the Social Experiments, which is part of why things start to tweak out when the Founder removes them in the Founder Cut as the Generation Loss generation loses.

My first thought, was that obviously this is another bait and switch, a way to draw the audiences attention, seeing something that’s secret, something that’s not “meant for them”, which is a tactic I could see Showfall using in universe to keep people’s attention and add an air of mystery to their shows.

But

Showfall is doing all their experiments and these shows with a LOT of help from their censors to show it off, displaying a fun silly show that is definitely not uber fucked up and that is 100% just slime don’t worry about it, it’s kid friendly if it’s green! And I don’t think they’d want to bet all their cards on this one experiment doing well enough to their audience to not question the sudden shift in tone that follows this warning. Which makes me wonder.

They did their test, they did their experiment, and the evidence of this last act? I think it was a one time run, they don’t want anyone seeing this, it isn’t for the audience. Act three is specifically to both test and play with their Hero, Hetch’s new lines add a level to this, never once does he call the Hero by their name, just refers to Ranboo as their Role, and he’s not exactly. Nice? About literally any of Ranboos concerns, which wouldn’t really seem conductive to making an audience trust him, especially with his monologue at the end. Ranboo has escaped before, possibly right before act 1 started, they tightened the security on his mask to be unremovably part of them, Hetch doesn’t like the Hero but they’re a fan favorite so he can’t just get rid of them.

Act three is the cumulation of Ranboo being punished for things they don’t remember, for daring to break free from Showfalls control, this is Hetch taking the Hero and essentially majorly fucking and manipulating them to take his frustration out on a fan favorite they can’t otherwise get rid of or give a smaller role like Slimecicle. which is exemplified by the fact that we now know Charlie most likely was never able to actually able to fully snap out of the control, that even in act three in panic and confusion there was at least still a part of him being influenced by Showfall.

So the first two acts are the usual show, they have their posters, they have Squiggles to introduce them, they have goofs and silliness and only a couple slip ups that’re quickly dealt with, the usual rose tinted curtains. Act three?

Do not watch the following material

[leslie057]

probably that she loves guns or something...she doesn’t love guns, she doesn’t enjoy using them, nor does she even pride herself on her aim in my opinion. she simply recognizes that it’s a skill of hers and, because it’s a skill of hers, it’s something she has to fall back on time and time again for her safety and the safety of others. she’s careful with that and she’s serious about it. [“there’s a six year old in the house—i know where i keep my guns.”] her relationship with weaponry and just battle in general really stands out to me against other characters. we can take eddie and steve for an example; in the field scene in s4, we see eddie bragging about/playing with his spiked shield in front of dustin. he made it, it is an extension of him, he’s proud of it. in a way, the only thing that is keeping his courage up at that point is his desire to prove himself. he doesn’t want to be the one that retreats, but obviously this is nightmarish shit, so he kind of starts to think of the weapons as toys to make it easier (or that’s how i saw it, anyway). just like a dnd game. steve had a similar thing going with his (nancy’s) bat—sure, he’s protected plenty of people with that bat, and that’s great, he’s very brave, but the way he swings it around like it’s a toy is a little objectionable because it’s like…okay, that’s enough, let’s not play with that. the bat is seen as an extension of steve as well, and for both these boys, as brave as they are (i’m really not trying to completely shit on them, i’m not, and steve is a protective person which is wonderful), we as viewers do get this sense of—particularly during battle scenarios—how aware they are of…themselves. it’s all about them, it’s all about what they can represent for the group (valor, basically). it’s about their personal growth. disclaimer i realize that this is a show with a lot of monster fighting/action happening in it, and also the duffers want their characters to have badass moments, and also they like to lean into some campier physical acting (hello unnecessary flip steve did onto that mattress), which is—fine.

but i find it so weird that a good portion of this fandom reduces nancy to her battle skills, skills that they think represent her identity. i find it weird that people don’t see how much it takes out of her having to be the leader all the time, that people think she’s driven by ANYTHING other than her survivor’s guilt, that she’s supposedly found confidence and purpose in the guns or something, that she’s empowered through that. i mean. yeah, she’s empowered by the fact that she’s not dying. that she can prevent others from dying. i would be much quicker to argue that steve finds confidence/purpose/maybe even satisfaction in battle (not that he doesn’t genuinely want to protect his friends, he does, not that he doesn’t have ptsd, i am sure he does, and he probably doesn’t take literal pleasure in the fighting, per se). there’s just this…..desperation to be the big savior there. i’m sorry but there is.

he projects this onto dustin and eddie at the end of s4 [“don’t try to be cute or be a hero or something”] to which dustin reassures [“don’t worry, you can be the hero steve”] with a judgmental note in his voice, honestly. which is interesting, too.

nancy does not want to be a savior—she just wants to save.

she uses guns only because she’s good with them, because she has to, she needs protection and others need protection. i’m sure there are times for her when pulling the trigger is somewhat of a cathartic release, but i also think she kind of NEVER wants to pick one up again for the rest of her life. of course, if that happened, she wouldn’t be cool and interesting to [some] fans anymore, so. whatever.

tldr; nancy is full of fear and rage, not violence, and she is probably SICK of those damn guns !!! please start looking at her as more than just a “badass.”

what is a mischaracterisation of Nancy wheeler that gets on your nerves (answer in comments pls)

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I do appreciate the beauty of a good standalone novel but the more people complain about there not being enough of them (even though I don’t necessarily disagree), the more I spitefully double down on, no actually why are you complaining about getting more content for a story that we all love.

[gothsuguru]

doing the heavy lifting in a convo can be so tiring omfg

[mylove-thresher]

I keep trying to post shit I been drawing lately BUT I CANT. I CANNOT BRING MYSELF TO. THE WORMS INSIDE MY HEAD DO NOT APPROVE OF THEM. I CANNOT FUCKING DRAW. PUT ME DOWN. I DONT FEEL THE SILLY IN ME.