#ace deserves to be a younger brother

[justhellacesome]

Comfort fics? oh you mean the same list of fics in my Comfort Tag? That Is about the same premise and the same scenario just a little to the left. That ive read all before and don’t remember till halfway through or when You already hit Kudos pops up and you have bookmark on it and yeah.

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Loving Arms

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

Part I: An Important Guest

A/N: No pairings as of right now as I want to focus on the familial and platonic relationships with Greens when they're still quite young. This is possibly only the beginning (credit for the divider goes to @kawaii-lau)

126 AC

Some months after the funeral of the Lady Laena Velaryon, wife of the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen there was much clamor in the Red Keep. For the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower had been summoned to court after more than a decade away from the intrigue and politics that surrounded the throne and her family. Not much was known about the sister of the Queen apart from what had been known from her previous shorts visits in the early years of her sisters marriage and births of the younger royal children. The elder Hightower girl had been married two years prior to Alicent's own marriage to the King.

Hoping for a future alliance with the house of his eldest daughter's husband, Otto had the girl married to the younger brother of Qoren Martell who served as the reigning Prince of Dorne. But upon the death of his son by law, it was expected by the Hand of the King that his daughter would return to follow her filial duty of remarrying once more upon her return. Only... the man had not accounted for how his grandchildren would come to react to the arrival of their long unseen aunt.

--------

Aemond was positively annoyed with his older brother Aegon, "You could not think to ready yourself for our guests arrival ahead of time? Must you always make the lot of us appear inadequate because you choose to drink yourself into a stupor?"

Halaena, Aegon, and Aemond were specifically told to prepare for an important guests arrival but because of the elder amongst the three not being ready on time, it appeared that they would be late in their greetings. In his haste to reach the throne room faster, Aemond almost stumbled over his own feet and he cursed quietly to himself as he attempted to avoid tripping.

"Need help walking, do you Aemond?" Aegon giggled.

"I can walk just fine," Aemond mumbled. "I simply need a bit more time to recover my sense of balance on account of my... my eye."

The younger Targaryens response quieted his brother and the elder turned his attention to their sister.

"Were you told anything about who our important guest is meant to be?" Aegon asked. "One would think that if they were such an important person, we would all have to be alongside our mother and grandsire by the entrance."

Halaena shook her head, "I think we've met them before, but I cannot be certain if it's who I think it might be."

"Oh and pray tell, wise Halaena. Who could it be?" Aegon mocked.

"Didn't mother happen to receive a raven some weeks ago that our uncle the second prince of Dorne, the husband of our aunt had passed from the sweating sickness."

"Why on earth would that woman come?" the eldest asked, "I don't think she has come to visit King's Landing since the birth of our dear Aemond. Not that I could begrudge the woman, I heard that it was a miracle our grandsire married her to a Dornish prince since she apparently was deformed and all found her a lost cause."

"Perhaps if you listened when Mother informed you about who our guest would be, then we would all know, now wouldn't we?" Aemond huffed. "And don't speak of our aunt that way! Show some respect!"

"It doesn't matter, we will know soon enough if it truly is her or not, and it's not as if our aunt will ever know, I doubt it could be her" Aegon grumbled.

The doors to the throne room were opened upon their arrival and all but one turned to look at the trio that had come into the room quite late. The children could see the frown that their mother wore clear as day when she looked upon them, her disapproval apparent at their actions. While their grandsire had a near equal downturn of his lips but it was more in his eyes that one could see the disappointment at the trio.

"Ah, so good of my grandchildren to finally make their appearance!" said ser Otto. "We had all wondered when you might grace us with your presence!"

Aegon merely rolled his eyes at the words of his grandsire, while Aemond and Halaena looked down in embarrassment.

"Oh come now Father, I am sure that my nephews and niece meant no harm and tried to make haste. They couldn't have expected that I would be the one to arrive."

Three sets of eyes were quick to look over at the person who spoke.

They could only see her profile, but it was apparent that the person could be no other person than their elusive aunt. The eldest daughter to Otto Hightower and his wife Alyrie Florten, widow of Prince Doran of House Martell, the Lady (Y/N) Hightower.

She wasn't an imposing figure, in fact, compared to her father and younger sister. Their aunt was not much, but... that is actually something that they appreciated about the woman. All their lives, the siblings had such imposing men and women that surrounded them or directed them at all times, but not (Y/N). She stood out in a gentle way, a steadiness to her presence. Unlike the prim and elegant hairstyles of the court, it was loosened and decorated with a few blossoms. Her gown was a pale green and embroidered with the symbols of both her own house and that of her late husband, with towers and suns. But most of all, there was no dismay in her gaze as she looked at them from the corner of her eye, rather she smiled affectionately and warmly.

"Come children," Alicent guided them closer. "Come and greet your aunt." And in a harsh whisper to Aegon said, "And don't even think about commenting on her appeareance!"

When their aunt fully turned to them, all held back a gasp when they saw her full countenance. A glassy grey eye stood out on the left hand side of her face that had obviously been burned. Carefully she stepped toward them and the three were ushered forward until they stood only a step away from her.

Unwaveringly she smiled at the trio and approached Aegon first, "You have grown much in the time since I last saw you."

Hesitantly, she reached to cup his face in her hand and the boy flinched, this stopped her movements and made her smile drop slightly. Carefully she waved her hand and asked, "May I?"

Tentatively, Aegon nodded and allowed his aunt to softly cradle his face in her hands. Her one good eye flickered across his face and she smiled at him once more, "Such a handsome young man. Must be the Hightower in you, because you and I seem to share the good looks."

His aunt's comment seemed to release the breath that the group was holding, because Aegon, Halaena, and Aemond couldn't help but giggle. A soft warmth settling in their bodies as they attempted to stifle their uncontrollable laughs.

Alicent saw their laughter as rude and intended on scolding them, but a raised hand from her sister was enough to have her hold her tongue.

Stepping away from her elder nephew, (Y/N) noticed how Halaena's gaze shifted away from her own and understood. She simply curtsied to the girl, "I look forward to getting know you more Halaena and perhaps you could show me your things of interest."

Halaena timidly smiled and curtsied in return, "I like all sorts of insects."

"I am sure you do, sweet girl."

And lastly, her gaze turned to her younger nephew that was shuffling nervously where he stood.

Quietly he asked, "Does it still hurt you?"

Her smile never wavered as she answered, "Thank you for your kind consideration, nephew. Sometimes, it does ache but I am fine now."

A gentle calm settled amongst them, but it was disturbed when ser Otto cleared his throat. "Come, dinner has been prepared and we have dallied long enough. I am sure you have needed a hearty meal."

"Of course, Father" (Y/N) agreed. "I am sure we can continue with pleasantries over a delicious meal."

The Hand of the King, carefully led his daughters out the room and so everyone else took this as a sign to clear the area. But the siblings stayed behind, a clear look between them that there were things they would need to talk about.

Tag List:

@minaxcarter, @hotleaf-juice, @pikomin, @deltamoon666, @cococrazy18, @firefairy, @dracaryxzs, @snowbunny58, @lacherrysouldy, @only4thefics, @queen-luna-007, @ambrivertenergy, @kayllineb12

[blondeaxolotl]

I love Kalim he's such a sweetheart but I'm also a full believer in Kalim deserves to be a least a LILLL BIT of a menace. Like c'mon, he's an older brother, and I'm sure he's wonderful at it, but at the same time there's no way he hasn't purposely annoyed/playful picked on his younger siblings before for shits and giggles and just because he can

Plus it'd be funny to just watch Kalim slowly start viewing someone (example Ace) as a younger sibling and then as more time went on the more Kalim just starts annoying them like the older brother he is.

Kalim has multiple love languages but one of them needs to be "I'm annoying you because you're like my little sibling and I love you.... but also it's funny"

[fanaticsnail]

Every day I wake up and think "Why is there no Childhood Friends Doflamingo x Reader fics?" and every day one of my Discord friends tell me "because Kid Doffy would literally treat Kid Reader like someone beneath him cus everything is still fresh for him" but I bring you counterarguments for the Childhood Friends Doflamingo x Reader story:

1. He meets Reader after his house gets burned down. Reader is Rosinante's age, so eight years old. It's when DQ brothers are being beaten by the thugs; kid Reader gets a bat and protects him and Rosinante from the thugs who were beating on them over bread

2. she brings them food from the restaurant her parents own - home cooked - and meets Homing & Mrs Donquixote, who encourage Doffy & Rosi to befriend her but Doffy remains careful

3. Doffy has confused feelings about Reader but she's only ever treated his injuries (the first human not to hurt him) so he decides Reader is "his human to protect" not "human to enslave" yep he has groups in his mind, little crazy baby flamingo boy

4. Reader teaches Doffy & Rosinante to climb trees. Doffy comments that's what monkeys do, but Reader teases him that whether it is what monkeys do, he still can't reach her if he doesn't climb. Doffy accepts the challenge. He doesn't take long to get the hang of it. Right when he is nearly at the top, he nearly falls but Reader grabs his hand and pulls him onto the branch. I think this is where Doffy starts having a little crush on Reader. He doesn't realise that's what it is.

5. I don't know Ace, Sabo, Luffy I know Doffy, Rosi & Reader. Sure they would not be as wild as ASL since the thugs in North Blue are probably much more deadlier than in East Blue, but they'd be good thieves.

6. Reader is so gentle with Rosi and Doffy gets jealous and says his brother is a crybaby and Reader shouldn't help him, he needs to learn on his own. Reader just blows Doffy a raspberry which makes Rosinante giggle - the first time Rosinante has laughed since their house burned down

I just think if we just put in some thought, it can be plausible for Kid Doffy to have Kid Reader as a friend in his childhood days. He'd feel challenged by a "human", someone younger than him, and want to prove his heavenly status, why he's better. Reader just nods along with it and is kind to them both. They don't do any sort of competitions, they just co-exist.

Kid Doffy is like a street cat. He bites and scratches, and tries to claw your face off, but it's cause he's been through terrible shit and he doesn't trust strangers. He needs patience and kindness.

The fic would require just some patience and kindness I think, for the childhood part of their story, so Doflamingo by the end of it considers Reader precious to him to the point he thinks he is the best person to protect her. That it's his duty. He'd probably call himself her heavenly guardian or sth in his mind when he reaches that point.

Of course, that then can turn into him becoming very possessive of Reader as they grow up (Doffy even when becoming the young 10-11 year old leader seems to stick to one headquarters in that timeframe) and his crush from childhood evolving through time from protectiveness into a wish for a romantic relationship.

Anyway, kid Doffy & kid Rosinante deserve to have a friend during that terrible time, and they both latch onto that little amount of kindness, they appreciate it a lot. Doflamingo only realises it later down the line how much it meant for him Reader supported him.

They show appreciation for that differently later. Doffy comes into the restaurant Reader inherited from her parents all the time and makes sure everyone in the North Blue knows that's his territory, and the place where his crew gathers to celebrate things. He always sends Reader gifts such as jewelry, and kisses her on both cheeks whenever he sees her, using the excuse of it being a custom in Dressrosa to his advantage. Rosinante shows his love with hugs. When he sees Reader when he's Corazon he just hugs her. He doesn't give a shit.

Also, Reader & Kid Law & Baby 5... Reader would feed them all the food and pamper them.

Doffy can't go without Reader's home cooked meals. Food is very important to him, I think, after experiencing starvation. He probably invites her to join the crew as their chef cook when they head for the Grand Line. If not...

Well, kidnapping you is always an option 🤣

(he would lie about what happened to Rosinante. either that or get completely drunk and cry in your lap, confessing everything. You know what, I like the latter. Let the big man cry. I love pathetic drunk Doffy.)

- Yandere Doffy Anon

Okay okay okay okay okay. This was gorgeous. I am in love, and all of the relationships with all of the kids, and the coddling of Rosi. Yes. Please. I love their relationship, the silent confusion in the "what is this feeling" -> it's addictive, and I love it. "My human to protect" WHERE DO I SIGN UP????

Here is my interpretation of what childhood friendship would look like with Doflamingo.

What about a young son of a celestial dragon having regular interactions with a contractually bound daughter of another celestial dragon? And then he's taken away from you by his father? Doflamingo x f!reader image.

Your parents schedule regular playdates with one another so your faces do not grow lost on you both over time. From toddlerhood, to childhood, your friendship grew with your betrothed spouse as you both read with one another, and made puzzles and sculptures together. He pulled your hair, you brushed off his glasses, he bit you on the hand, and you cried to your maid.

You are a bit stuffy and spoilt, but what child of the pinacle of society isn't? Similar to Doflamingo, it is your birthright to be treated with the utmost respect and worshipful adoration.

But your heart becomes kind.

When becoming lost in a crowd of unfamiliar faces, the kindness of a stranger who knew nothing of your face changes you from a prissy young miss to a girl spun in webs of charity and compassion.

It makes the young Doflamingo disgusted seeing you interact and thank his servants when they fix you and him lunch. Conversing so freely with the chaperone, asking questions about his children, it makes the eight year old sick. He'd rather trick them into being scolded and thrashed.

When Donquixote Homing defects, the ties that strung you together lay severed and desolate. The friendship between you forbidden, but your mind often wanders into what had become of him. You both had this unspoken hatred and the closest friendship with one another any two children could have.

Inseperable.

Until you were separated.

It took four adults to restrain you from running to him in the council chambers. Hearing Doflamingo had returned with Homing's head, you had nearly lost yours with glee at his return. When he was denied a rise in reinstating his former title, you were overwhelmed with a grief beyond your years in capacity.

Over the decades, you wondered what had become of him. Your heart had been broken when your father renounced your coupling. Each time a potential spouse was presented to you, you would shut it down with haste. Although you were only young, you spoke with such indignation regarding your disdain for such an alliance. What if this one was taken from you too? Nothing would ever match up to him.

They would never be Doflamingo, and you refused to be the spouse of anyone who didn't meet his equal. His insanity mirrored a darkness in your heart that you had since clothed in kindness. He was your absolute, the stop at the end of the line. He was yours, and you were his completely.

When Tsuru had invited you to the first gathering of seven warlords of the sea, you had no idea what to expect. No matter what you prepared yourself with, your readiness mattered not for the sight that was to welcome you in. Charity was your character, and your humility is what made you the chosen celestial dragon the world government asked to converse with the most.

Pink feathers, rosy glasses, blonde hair, and a sinister grin you had long since burried, had your chest swell and eyes flood with every emotion. Silence was all you offered in your shock, your face shrouded behind a veiled cloth you often travelled with.

You knew exactly who you were looking at, and he had no idea it was you. The way his presence demanded attention, his sinister playfulness with Sir Crocodile and Tsuru, the way he openly taunted the former Marine Hunter Mihawk: each motion captured your soul and held you hostage.

It was only when Tsuru had asked you to speak did you stifle the warmth in your chest. You knew Doflamingo would likely hold disgust for the Celestial Dragons due to their lack of restoration, and you chose to ignore him - just as he ignored you.

When your attendants removed the veil from your extravagant headpiece, the first sound to travel through the realm was a collective gasp. You were young, a woman, and incredibly beautiful. Nothing any of the seven warlords were expecting was anything amounting to a single scrap of you. And you chose to play coy to the slack-jawed blonde in the corner.

After speaking your well rehearsed speech, Tsuru thanked you with her head bowing low, encouraging the other marines to pay their respects in kind. Sir Crocodile offered you a polite bow alongside Kuma and Jinbe. Mihawk tipped his hat to you, which you nodded in kind.

Immediately rising to his feet, Doflamingo's arms hung limp as his lips lay parted and almost quivering. His hands shook, his shoes feeling like lead in lieu of leather, and he finally stood before you. Your attendants sprung up to your side, your guardians guiding their hands to the hilts of their weapons: only ceasing when you hold up your own hand to stop them.

With that same hand, you hover it in front of Doflamingo's face, guiding it in an intimate expression without ever colliding with his skin. He rises his own, mirroring your motions and causing your eyes to flutter shut. An inaudible movement of your name courses through his lips, no sounds to voice them other than a single breath.

"Time has not been kind to you, mi amor," you whisper, Doflamingo's knees buckling at the tone your voice had grown into. It was the greatest symphony he had ever heard, the voice of his childhood friend blossoming into the bloom of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Time saved all it's kindness for you, mi querida," he managed string together beneath his petrification.

The room was silent, all watching in awe as the most detestable inhabitant in the council chambers was brought to his knees with a single look from a powerful woman. The familiarity had Tsuru's stomach tighten, wondering if extending an invitation to you was in her best interest. Although, seeing Doflamingo behave with his absolute best manners had her lip twitch up at the corner.

He was yours again. A man who was once everything, became nothing, and built himself up to something again. And he was yours.

And he couldn't be happier to be in your presence once more. Why else would he have fought so hard to rise to the top? For mere power alone?

No. That is far too simple. He is far from simple. It was for the chance to be once again worthy to stand in your presence and kneel at your feet as an equal in potential matrimony. But would you still have him after all the time that had passed between you?

Only you held that answer.

Edit to add, I got distracted by the roast chicken and forgot to add the tag list. I'm sorry everyone.

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

[chronically-ghosted]

in another life . . .

rating: explicit, 18+

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

word count: 7K

summary: Partner. That word had been jammed up inside his brain for as long as he could remember. Gym-class partner, lab partner, work-out partner, partner-in-training, partner in this fucking life or death situation where we’re only going to get out alive if we trust each other more than I trust myself. And then he met you and the definition changed again.

warnings: domestic!frankie, marriage kink (if that’s a thing), oral (f receiving) but i think that’s an expectation from every frankie fic, improper use of a kitchen table, unprotected piv, no use of y/n, brief mentions of PTSD, improper use of Spanish, eating in bed 

a/n: requested for my 100 followers event! Anon: hiiii firstly! congrats on the big one hundo you totally deserve it 🥂‼️ secondly wondering if I could rq a Pedro boy drabble with prompt number 12... I wanna do laundry for Frankie Morales :D “did you just wash these sheets?” “I did.” “they smell nice. and they’re still warm.”

🤍Masterlist

. . . I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

Frankie fills the silence of the house without you in it with music. This house, it had been your choice, even though he never expressly made you choose, or even presented the dichotomy. This house, with its leaky faucet and janky AC unit and finicky pilot light, was what you wanted instead of a diamond ring, and so he gave it to you. First down payment, along with every other red cent you and he had both saved up, went into buying your first home together. This wasn’t forever, you both agreed (with only two bedrooms it wasn’t enough room for a baby, he often thought) but even as the real estate agent glanced around with disdain for the house and your budget, one look from you and it was settled. 

“It has good bones,” you said, standing out on the concrete deck overlooking a postage-stamp-sized backyard. There were weeds in the corners and holes from some unknown animal but he could see the wheels in your head turning, imagining how you, like everything else you did, planned to tackle and wrestle control over it with your bare hands. “It needs work, but I think there’s something special here.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, threading his fingers through yours, the real estate agent no doubt off somewhere inspecting the drains. “Is there something here?”

You grinned and shoved your nose then a soft press of your lips into his denim-shoulder. 

“I’m sure of it.”

All his life, Frankie worked best in a unit. As children, his older brother, his younger brother, and him were practically inseparable, their physical similarities almost presenting as the same person but at different ages, and when that group disbanded because Oscar left for college, he went on to find another one. First, his army unit, then the boys. His boys. Left to his own devices, Frankie was terrible at remembering to eat, sleep regularly – focus on anything other than fixing cars and planes, really – but he’d do it for them. He hated to see that worried crease show up on Will’s brow when Frankie admitted he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He hated that Benny had to show up at his apartment to drag his ass outta bed to get him into the sunlight. And he hated when Pope felt obligated to take him out to bars to try and meet women.

“I’m not dating someone just so they can be my mother,” Frankie muttered into the lip of his beer bottle. “I don’t need anyone thinking I need to rely on them like that.” 

“Yeah, but you do better when you have people relying on you.” Pope’s dark eyes flitted from a woman at the bar top to him, with intention and full of force. “And I’m not saying I’m trying to get you to fuck your mother, but you need a partner.” 

Partner. 

That word had been jammed up inside his brain for as long as he could remember. Gym-class partner, lab partner, work-out partner, partner-in-training, partner in this fucking life or death situation where we’re only going to get out alive if we trust each other more than I trust myself. 

And then he met you and the definition changed again. 

You are his best friend. You are the woman he wants to fuck every day for the rest of his life. You are the first person he wants to tell good news to and the first person he wants to talk to when he’s had a shitty day. Your voice quiets something inside him that has been far too loud for far too long. You are a relief and a refuge. For all his faults, you love him and sometimes he can’t fathom why. 

You are his partner – in life, in marriage (one day), and forever (he hopes).

“I might not always like you, Catfish,” you said to him in Will’s backyard for Benny’s birthday party. You had been drinking and every sip seems to bring you closer and closer to him. With your face tucked up into his neck, arms up under his flannel and hugging his waist, the only way he could be physically closer to you was if he was inside you – which he was about two seconds away from suggestion when you leaned in close. “‘M not always going to like you, but ‘m always going love you.”

And love him you did. You loved him when he decided to go back to school to get some additional certifications so he could maybe teach flight school. The army would pay for most of it, was a fucking relief to your shared thread-bare, cartoon-spider-web empty savings account. But what the army would not pay for was for you to go to nursing school. You worked in hotels for the events services branch, coordinating everything from weddings to conferences, walking (mostly running) from one end of the hotel to the next. Your sister got you a Fitbit for Christmas one year and after the holiday rush, you walked twenty miles in two days. 

“After that, this nursing stuff should be a breeze,” you said flippantly as you signed your paperwork for admissions. 

Of course you got accepted at one of the better hospitals in the city – he never doubted for a second you would – and as the fresh-faced trainee, you got stuck with most of the night shifts. 

Which meant his days looked a lot like this: wake up at 6AM, drive an hour to the helicopter tour building on the coast, fly rich idiots around all day, eat the lunch you had prepped for the both of you on Sunday night, continue flying rich idiots around, drive home in two-hour traffic, change into his work overalls, go work on some cars Benny’s buddy had at the local garage for some extra cash, then go home, heat up dinner you also made Sunday night, and then attend to the most pressing thing you or the house needed. 

Which could be:

Fixing the AC unit, resealing the back door so it would close properly, re-caulking the shower, building more attic space, repainting the back fence, or replacing the hand towel holder.

Frankie didn’t mind the hard work. It kept his mind and his hands busy. What he did mind was the house silent and eerily empty without you here. 

He didn’t mind the hard work because even for a few hours, he got to hold you while you slept. He got to eat with you at 10:30 at night and it was the highlight of his day.

Pay your surgeon very well to break the spell of aging

Sicker than the rest, there is no test, but this is what you're craving?

Frankie bobs his head, his earphones carefully tucked up under his shirt to prevent the laundry from tangling up in them. He hauls out the latest load and moves onto the washer, fishing out one more sock when suddenly the lights go off. All of them. Total darkness.

And then light and he’s staring down the bottom of the drum.

Then dark. And light.

You. Your code. One you designed when you read that PTSD victims are often triggered into a fight-or-flight response when startled. You, who knew before he did, how to manage the symptoms, create workarounds, and find a pathway through, instead of not at all. 

He takes out one of the earbuds and smiles.

“Hey, you’re home.” 

You lean against the doorway, smiling that smile that is reserved for him and him alone. Sometimes he’s selfish and wants everything of yours to be only for him – all your smiles, your laughter, your sighs – but that’s like trying to capture sunlight in a butterfly net: too focused on the impossible and you end up missing the daytime. 

“How goes this fucking Sysphian task?” You nod at the baskets of laundry at his feet, referring to how you’d often rant and rave about how laundry, the dishes, and grocery shopping were never tasks that could simply be done. He knows how much you hate being unable to cross things off your to-do lists, so he holds your hand during all of these rantings and kisses your knuckles when you take a breath. 

“Good,” he shrugs. “‘Bout to fold your scrubs for tomorrow.”

“Ah, have I told you lately that I love you?” You swing into the room and kiss him on his cheek, on the division where his patchy beard meets his skin – the place that you most often claimed on him. Your fingers squeeze around his bicep as you pull away and your eyes fall to the basket behind him. You gasp with glee. 

“Did you just wash these sheets?” You ask like you’d just uncovered buried gold. 

He smirks, propping his hip up against the dryer. “I did.” 

Without another word, you scoop them up in your arms and inhale sharply.

“Mhmm, they smell nice.” You bury your head in deep. “And they’re still warm.”

In the rare moments when you’re both home and going through laundry together, he never fails to scoop up a load of hot towels and dump them over your head, relishing in the girlish giggle from beneath the clean laundry. “It’s so toasty,” you whimper with glee. 

“They’re not gonna be if you get your hospital gunk all over them,” Frankie tuts, going back to add a new load into the washer as you glare at him over the lump of sheets. 

“Ha, ha. Move over, Mr. Morales, and watch a master at work.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Morales.” It’s stupid but his heart always fumbles when he calls you that. It started as a joke, one that you initiated, but now it’s like berry jam on his tongue, sweet and sugary. He’s thought about calling you that while he’s inside you but figures he should save something for the wedding night. 

He sidles back, giving you space near the dryer as you pick up a basket of t-shirts.

“You know there’s dinner waiting for you in the kitchen.” He shakes his head as you begin to fold the shirts with lightning speed and precision – a side effect of being the oldest daughter in a family of five kids. 

“Yeah, but you’re in here,” you say and bump his hip. He bumps you back and helps with the load. “Besides, it’ll get done faster with two people.”

He can’t exactly argue with that, so he lets the silence grow. But it’s not silence, not really. In the distance, dogs bark. Outside the room, the temperamental AC grumbles, a sound he never thought he’d come to appreciate. Inside the room, fingers tug at fabric, the soft thump as the shirts grow into a continuous pile. Then there’s you, breathing in the lilac-scented air, the scent of his deodorant and sweat and something entirely unique to him– his Frankie-ness as you’ve called it many times without elaborating. I’d bottle it if I could, you told him, bathe in it. You’re kinda weird, he told you, and you know he likes it. 

Every once in a while, his elbow brushes up against yours, yours skirting around his, but never colliding, an awareness of the other always present and attended to, a flow of familiarity and recognition he’s never felt before or known since. 

Bit by bit, you’ve taken pieces of him into you, picked them up, held them to the light and found them beautiful, until a second bit of his soul lives outside of his body. He knows every inch of you, how every atom calls out to him, begs to be close to him, and held tight. It’s not sunlight he’s trying to keep safe, it’s your heart. Your precious, wonderful heart that is somehow so full, it was enough to fill him up too. Gold filling in the cracks. 

Kintsugi, Benny called it, when he got obsessed with anime for three months that one time two years ago. Frankie never could remember the actual name, and maybe that wasn’t the point and maybe it was a little ridiculous, especially when it was explained by a deliriously drunk and bleary-eyed Ben Miller at one in the morning on his brother’s lawn chair. 

Maybe a better way of thinking about it was how separate, disparate, jagged and raw edges came to fit together. How someone like him got a do-over, another chance to be remade in the kiln, and how someone like you was allowed to love unselfishly, to ask for things and never be threatened with reparations of some kind – as if loving you deserved some sort of compensation. 

Pieces, broken and scattered – he looked up and saw you carrying yours, and you witnessed the scars and blood dripping from the shards of his own past, his life, his love, and despite how slippery his pieces were, how dried and empty and wanting yours were, something pulled them together and made them stay. 

Something stronger than light.

Stronger than gold. 

You shook his hand and looked at what you built together, the pieces that came together, and in the end, that was your partnership. A creation of something greater – home, family, love. 

So much fucking love.

In the end, Frankie Morales used love to build his life, not death, and you’re the one who gave it to him.

He drops the last shirt on the stack and he turns, his fingers seeking the drawstring of your pants. 

You know what he wants. You want it too. A singular desire in two separate bodies.

The inherent closeness of domesticity draws you into him, closing the already limited space as hands find waists and lips find skin. He drags his nose against your jaw, somehow already shaking, his teeth grazing your throat, unwilling and unable to press his lips to you, wanting to drag this out as much as possible. He squeezes your hips, thumbs flipping under your shirt to touch, touch, touch, until his fingers wrap around your ribs and you make your first sound of the night. It snags at his restraint, pulling it threadbare. 

“Frankie,” you sigh and he cannot fight the cataclysmic pull towards you – he stumbles, pinning you to the laundry room wall, his tongue cupping your earlobe into his mouth and he sucks. The next noise you make is high and keening and it turns his touch frantic.

Caught between the wall and his broad shoulders, he does with you what he wants. He nips at your cheek, your neck, the dip of your clavicle, as his thumb presses up each knot of your spine, drawing out the tension from your body like draining poisoned blood, and by the time he pinches off your bra, you’re all but hanging onto him. 

“Baby–,” 

He can hear you say, it’s late, we have work in the morning, you don’t have to do this,

I’m not worth this 

With a low growl that is all possession, all anger that someone ever made you feel like your love was too much, he tugs your shirt off, knocking his hat off as he goes. In the drift, he sees your eyes flutter, mouth twisted in pleasure and guilt – you don’t want to be asking for things like this – and so he silences every doubt, every worry that he’s tired or it’s too late or his knees are aching too much to make you feel the way you deserve – he kisses you with enough force to knock out every unpleasant thought you’ve ever had about yourself and flattens you against the wall. 

You let him pry you open, his touch fervent and insistent, tasting of iced coffee and gum. He licks into you, telling you things with his tongue, the way he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth, in the soft puff of breath that escapes him when you cup the back of his neck. Closer, he begs, closer. 

His wide palm arching your lower back into him, he squeezes your ribs, up under your breast, before finally taking your nipple between his thumb and the meat of his hand and twists, just enough to make you break apart from his demanding mouth, gasping as if tapped by a live wire. But it’s him who is electrocuted, who catches fire, who wants to be chewed down and swallowed up. He shuffles and pulls you into him, the throbbing in his pants bordering on painful. He rubs himself against you once and you sigh like you know he hurts. You nod.

Your fingers peel your shirt up and over your head as he cups one thigh then the other until your hips hug his waist, smearing the hem of his shirt up over his skin. He feels the heat coming from between your legs, the slight dampness, against his lower belly and he groans, low, right near that source of warmth he wants to die in. 

You curl above him, tipping his head back, as you dive into his mouth again, fingers twisting into his hair, thumbs brushing his temple right where you know he tends to get headaches. Your tongue brushes against his upper lip, tasting his mustache, and his knees threaten to buckle. 

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he laments, he praises, into the supple wetness of your tongue. You nod, pleased, and press your chest into him. He cannot fucking wait to get his mouth around your tits.

Mouth sealed to yours, hands cupping the meat of your ass, Frankie works entirely on sense memory to carry you into the kitchen, to a long wooden table beneath a wide window, white curtains closed and blinds shut. 

This table had been one of the first purchases for the new house. Tan cedar boards with white knobby legs, it instantly reminded him of the one in his own childhood home, where he and his brothers fought over meals and did homework together. Where he held his mom after his father died and where he dropped his bag after coming home from a life too long spent fighting other people’s wars. 

This table mattered to him and he’d be damned if it wouldn’t mean something to his own child one day. 

That was something you too wanted to give your child, never having a table like this in your own life. You loved the stories he told about the table in his kitchen. How much it meant to him.

And now he was going to fuck you on it, this symbol of stability.

He just wonders how stable it really is. 

His fingers clutching the back of your neck, arm running in tandem with your spine, he lowers you down, shifting your weight onto his arm so you don’t bump your head against the wood. He releases you but you protest, a muffled uh-uh, as he tries retreating. You loop your arms around his neck, tugging him flat against you and he feels your breasts mold against his chest, nipples already tight.

“Baby,” he breathes, sucking up and out of your mouth, “let me make you feel good.”

Behind him, he hears your sneakers clatter to the floor, your heels digging into his back as you toe off your shoes, and you shake your head. 

“I am.” Kiss. A thumb under his bottom lip. “You do.” Breathless, reverent, grateful. 

Grateful.

Grateful that he is kissing you. 

Not good enough. God, he’s going to eat that self-loathing right out of you. 

You whine, frustrated and hot, as he pulls back. He wants to go right for your pussy, but stutters at the sight of your unmarked tits. Smooth, flushed, heaving. There is no part of you he does not love, does not feel the need to worship on his knees. 

But suddenly sour shame strikes him as he realizes enough time has passed since the last time you’d had sex for the hickeys to heal. He intends to amend that right now. 

His thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips, to calm himself, he folds himself over you, dribbling kisses along your throat, over the wings of your clavicle, at the barest incline at the top of your breast, and then to the meat of your tit, the heaviness, the sway, and he bites down. Predictably, you yelp, nails scratching roughly into his scalp and that only makes him suck harder. You have very strict rules around where he can mark you, but on the places he can – oh, you beg him for it. 

He palms your other tit, just to feel the goosebumps break out across your skin, to roll your nipple with the calluses on his palm. His teeth release, his tongue laving over that already pink and swollen skin, and he glances up, his other thumb coming to massage that fragile patch. 

Being a pilot, a soldier, a brother, a son, those are the things he is. But Frankie lives – aches, pines, desires – to watch you come apart. 

The purple bruise on your tit shining like a luxurious necklace, your eyes flutter open when you feel him pull up. Your fingers around his ears, your chest wet with his spit, you let him take you in. You give him this, because you know you’re about to get so much more. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, he can feel the soft cant of your hips, the quiet, patient begging, as you thought he needed reminding that you needed this. You rub up him, knees pinned to his ribs, and he lets you pull him into your mouth, grounding him. This kiss is brief, soft, a far cry from the tearing and biting that got you onto the table. Knowing exactly the state you need to be in to ask for what you want, he holds your jaw, thumb against the apple of your cheek and he slips his tongue out of your mouth. Again a protest, an instinctual reaction to the repeated pattern of abandonment, but like all cries for help, he quiets your squirming by sliding his thumb between your lips. 

“Suck,” he murmurs gently. Your eyes flutter shut, your nails carving half moons into his forearm, lips creating a vacuum seal around his knuckle and you obey – you suck – and he rewards you with a trail of kisses across your sternum, over your breasts, to the soft swell of your stomach. He nuzzles your belly button and you groan, eyes still shut and his thumb still in your mouth. He bites, softer than before, just above the thatch of hair and you whine around his finger, body going supple for him. He slides his thumb out, dragging a shiny string of spit over your plush lips, down your chin, joining his other hand at the waist band of both your panties and your scrubs. 

Any fast movement will awaken that anxious, overthinking, beautiful brain of yours, now that he has it fuzzy and unfocused, so he keeps kissing, keeps sucking and biting, that spot just above your curls. He tongues your hip, and then the other side, your bottom half wonderfully bare before you can open your eyes. 

His shoulder bumps the back of your thigh as he stands up right, inhaling the sweat behind your knee, the pungent tang of your glistening curls, your almond butter body lotion. It’s hunger, he feels, but not a tangible hunger, one that can be so easily satiated. It’s not painful, or weakening – no, he is made stronger by it. He feels your blood pulse beneath his hand on your inner thigh as he opens you up and he’s made better by it. 

He kneels, a holy servant before the divine meal of their goddess, on shitty linoleum beneath harsh lights in a kitchen he can barely afford. 

Frankie takes your hand, kisses your knuckles, and slides your grip into his hair. 

“Recuérdame cómo te gusta, nena.” 

He eats. He consumes. He licks. He sucks. He slurps.

He tastes your dripping wetness on the seam of your cunt, before his tongue ever gets the chance to explore, to open, to divulge. He licks until he feels your breath hitch – a curse in the shape of his name, as if he needs scolding for making you feel so good – and then he opens his jaw and tongues your hole. 

In a lust-drunk haze you once told him he has something better than DSL – he has a pussy-eating nose. He prods you with that nose you can’t seem to get enough of, licking in as far as he can, coating himself in everything as it leaks out of you, and he moans as he can feel it on his chin. You vibrate with the sound and above him, your fingers clench down into his hair. 

“Oh, fuck, holy – fuck, Frankie–,” your trembling shakes the bowl of your hips, spilling his meal, so he sucks your clit in a way that makes your body freeze and then melt. You go limp, pliable, and gushing. He gets a few more moments of twisting and sucking and swallowing, until by the third time he puts his lips around your clit, you open-mouth whine and it’s like his body violently remembers he has a cock. He is seized with such a need to fuck you in this warm, wet place he’s dug out with his tongue, he doubles over and rests his teeth against your thigh. 

“Frankie, I’m so close,” you writhe, chest flushed and brow sweaty. 

Before you, he never knew sex could feel like this, could do this. Sure, he used sex to keep away those circling, vulture-like thoughts from time to time. But this, this drawing out and unthreading, unspooling, of himself and someone else, tearing at ego-drenched threads until all that was left was a being of pure want and desire – he didn’t know this was possible. 

He didn’t know he could feel like this.

One more broad lick, coating everything in what he hope fucking smells like him, and you arch, thighs shaking, his hair in danger of being ripped from his scalp. You gasp as you flatten, the first orgasm of the night rolling through you, sweat making your skin salty, as though you had been breached by the ocean. 

He laps you through it, of course, a nascent smirk on his face. 

You open your eyes to this self-satisfied Frankie, eyes only visible over the top of your cunt, and you whine. 

You reach for him and he goes, smearing your slick over your face, offering it to you in supplication on his tongue. He tastes your rising desperation, the way you sharpen your teeth against his lips, batter his tongue into the corner of his mouth, try to claim what your cunt already has. His hunger is an infection and your fever has reached a boiling point. 

Your trembling fingers curl his shirt up his back, passing over the ruddy scar on his shoulder where he got hit with a stray bullet, the jagged white line over his ribs where a knife nearly split him open. He used to only fuck with his shirt on. He doesn’t now. 

His shirt crumples to the floor as he sits up, you following, eyes dark, and you bite his pec muscle, your love for him twisting you into an anthropophagist. You want to consume him, like your pussy swallows his cock. Having him impale you is not enough; you want intercourse with him on a subatomic level. 

You inch back to give yourself enough space to unbutton his jeans and he sees the wet slick left behind on the table. The heat behind his groin shoots up his spine and he grunts, burying his face into your neck where he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth, hands planted on either side of you.

“Hurry, baby, I gotta fuck this pussy,” he whispers against the curve of your jaw. He wants to leave a giant purple bruise there, this instinct to claim, to mark, stoking the roiling heat at the base of his spine and drawing up his balls. 

But his attention snaps back to your hands when he hears a click, the release of his zipper is almost euphoric. He moans in relief, unable to see through his half-lidded eyes the explosion of goosebumps over your skin as his breath tumbles over your back and down your chest. 

His urgent hands overwhelm yours, one pushing his jeans down his hips, the other palming your stomach, pushing you back and you go willingly, but seemingly mesmerized by the sight of his aching, flushed cock springing up against his stomach. You lie down, but only barely, still on your elbows, as he tugs you by your ankles to the edge of the table. 

Your uneven breathing could mean a lot of things. He thought you were being complementary the first time you told him he was too big, but your eyes always widened at the sight of his cock. 

“Do you need to be opened up some more, cariño?” 

At his rawest, Spanish came out of him like a spilled bottle of molasses, sweet, slow, rich. 

“Hmm? Tell me what you need. Hable mas alto por favor.” He rubs your knees, your thighs, hoping you’ll ask for what he wants.

“F-fingers, Frankie,” you swallow, eyes still latched on to his now weeping cock. You glance up at him, face open and full of trust, and he feels his dick pulse. “Please, Frankie, put your fingers in me.” 

“Fucking anything.” He plants one hand and cups your mound, lost for a moment in the soaked curls, before pushing two fingers inside and thrusting. “I’ll fucking give you anything you want.” 

His hips jerking slightly in tandem with the pulse of his fingers, his slacked mouth an indication of how unconscious his humping has become, as he watches you dissolve with every stroke of his hand. God, he didn’t know they made things this pretty. His hand pushes your knee up and back, finding room for three fingers and your eyes roll back in your head. You scrabble for anything to hold onto, fingers searching for the ghosts of your bedsheets, but finding none, your arms curl over your head and latch onto the other edge of the table. You present your fucking tits to him like you’re letting him admire artwork. 

It almost brings him to his knees.

“Oh, I’m coming, oh, Frankie, I’m gonna –,”

He pulls out his fingers just enough to let you gush down his palm, his wrist, and he licks it up like a glutton. It drips a bit onto the linoleum and he smears it with his bare feet.

Frankie slides two fingers back in, his brain going fuzzy at being away from the clutch of your cunt for too long, when you grab his wrist. 

You can barely breathe, your skin a pale pink, your cunt no doubt must be sore, but your eyes are as hard as diamonds in your skull. He swallows the flush of spit in his mouth.  

“Now, Frankie,” you plead, fingers tight around his wet wrist, the hairs on his arm standing up at the sound of your commanding voice. “Fuck me, now, I need you inside of me.”

It always makes him a bit dumbstruck, the way you beg, the way you let him and only him see this side of you – this side of you that is sick with wanting.

His hand squeezes the base of his cock once, eyes fluttering, to remind himself he cannot blow his fucking load the instant the tip of him is inside you. He taps your clit, once, twice, lubing himself up as if he hadn’t moved around internal organs to make way for himself. He notches, then slides, white-knuckling his impending orgasm in favor of making this good for you. He steps farther between your legs, hands sliding from your thighs, up to your waist. He thumbs your nipple and your pussy twitches around him. He swears his heart flat out stops for a concerning length of time.

“How is a pussy this good all mine? All fucking mine?” He rolls his hips, pushing deeper, movements marionetted by the high-pitched whimpers and moans of your mouth. He could catalog every single one of them, has done so in the deep recesses of his brain, and it takes just a second to know when it switches from pleasure to pain. 

He bends over you, you choking on his dick, and kisses you hard, shattering the tense look on your face.  

“I love you,” he tells you, a secret that despite being well-known to anyone who sees him look at you, still feels precious and fragile. His hand plasters your hair to your sweaty neck as he kisses you desperately, speaking a language only you understand. “I love you so fucking much.” 

You sigh into his open mouth. “I wanna marry you, Fransisco Morales.” 

He is covered in gold. Dripping with it. 

His nails at your hip dig into your skin and you know exactly what you’ve done. 

“Say it. Say it louder, nena,” he snarls, face pressed into your cheek, and he thrusts forward with enough force to rock the table. The table legs squeak as you pin him to you one more time and nip at his ear. The last drop in the well, the rope slipping over the edge, the coil locked into place.

“I wanna fucking marry you.” 

With a breathy grunt, he yanks you down onto his cock by your waist and slaps your ass with his balls. It’s been a while since your cunt has taken a beating like this. You clutch at the edge of the table again, mouth torn open.

He knows you like it when he plays with your clit, and he will, but he needs to get this out of him. 

“Yeah? You’re gonna marry the guy who’s fucking your pussy so good right now?” It’s amazing that words escape at all through his gritted teeth, jaw taut. He watches as he disappears and reappears in you, your lips puffy and pink already but he needs more. He doesn’t want you to be able to walk out of bed tomorrow. 

“Yes, Frankie – oh, god, there, right there – yes, I’m gonna marry you.” He tips your hips up as he pounds down and you arch, crying out at the angle, the depth, how full you feel. He fucks like he’s trying to bruise your ribcage through your pussy. 

The thoughts in his head collide with the others, knotting together, blurring, until the only noise he can make, the only thing he can verbalize is the tight grunts, the hm, hm, hm, as he focuses on chasing this fire. 

He feels it approach so fast, he’s nearly taken under by the intensity of his orgasm so he slows, grinds instead, and with his eyes on your face, he cups himself around where he’s split you open, feeling your lips suck in and out with every thrust. 

He closes his eyes briefly, helpless against the waves of arousal that coat his fingers. He smears your clit with his thumb and his name is a split, jagged thing that burns your tongue. He wants that taste on his tongue again. 

You throb once, a sharp climax warming your pussy, and he backs out, drops to his knees, and licks you up again. He can taste his sweat there this time and he groans. His hands slip over your skin from the sweat in the crease of your thigh.

The cries from your mouth are wet now, on the curve of a salty tongue. You tremble like your orgasm is a physical thing, thrumming under your skin, warming your blood and you claw at his forearm. 

“B-baby, please–,” 

Wiping his mouth on your inner thigh, then licking up the mess he made, Frankie stands. He swats your bottom lightly, tutting. He’s a mad man, he knows it, he can’t tell if it's delirium from the rough ache of his balls or masochistic joy in hearing you beg, but again he rubs himself through your folds. It’s not the same, not nearly enough, but it helps last just a bit longer. 

“No crying until after I’ve made you come.” 

“I’ve already come twice,” you whine as you buck your hips, trying to take him in deeper. “You said I can have anything I want.” 

“And what does princesa want?” Yeah, there’s definitely something wrong with him. 

Your eyes flash as your nails dig into his shoulders, that fire he so loves to stoke flaring out.

“I want to come on your cock, Mr. Morales.”

And he unravels, divinity calling his name. 

His pace is slow, then rough, then deep. 

The table is just the right height. He balances on knee on the lip, bending your knees over his shoulders, and fucking down into you. He’s going to snap you in fucking half and maybe he does but he’ll be there to seal you back up again. 

Pour himself into you. Fill you. Make you whole once more. 

Baby, please.

The first drip of tears starts out the corner of your eyes as you come, open-mouthed, throat exposed, a cry loud and in the shape of his name tearing from your lips, your body locking up, cunt squeezing him until he feels himself burst. 

With a shudder and a groan, he spills, hot and flush into you. He comes, and comes, and comes, until his gooey spend is forced out of you and down the crack of your ass. He can’t see anything past the white spark in his eyes, feel anything but you and the tingle of his limbs. 

The excess of you and him is everywhere, leaking out onto the kitchen table, soaking the wood. There’s a ringing in his ears he can’t quiet. 

Your breath is hot on his neck, sweaty skin stuck tightly against his, he knows he’s crushing you, his arms given out at some point, but he really doesn’t think he can stand up right. He kisses your cheek by way of apology and thanks but you don’t seem to mind, your own gaze unfocused on the ceiling. 

“Fuck, Frankie . . .”

He laughs, realizes his legs aren’t working, so trembling and uneasy, he slides out of you and manages to make it to the floor. He blames the sudden dizziness on a lack of food and then blames the dizziness for lying down on the floor. 

His eyes flutter and somehow you’re suddenly curled up next to him, your palm resting over his pounding heart. His fingers find their way up into your sweat-damp hair, thumb gently rubbing against the knot at the base of your skull. 

“Your back is gonna be killing you in about fifteen minutes, sweetheart,” you grumble sleepily into his chest, a grin on your face. 

“I can’t feel anything below my waist right now.” He yawns. “So, we’ve got some time.” 

You nod, absentmindedly stroking the dark hair on his chest. 

“We need to talk about Pope’s birthday party this weekend. Will put us on drink duty . . . but I can’t really focus on anything right now.”

“Good,” he smirks with his eyes shut. “That was some of my best work.” And then he frowns. “You need to eat.” He pokes your side and you huff.

“Okay, if you’re awake enough to berate me, we can at least go to bed.” 

Groaning, you pull him up and he threatens to stumble you both into the wall, but he kisses your cheek and swats your ass, before snagging a tub of ice cream and a spoon. He meets you in the bedroom with the cap off and a smear of chocolate around his lips. 

You’ve got one of his shirts, grinning up at him from the center of the bed, and he’s torn about whether he likes you in his boxers, or nothing at all. 

You take the ice cream from him before he has a chance to flop down on the bed. 

“Not exactly a nutritious meal,” you mutter around the spoon and he turns his face from the pillow to glare at you. 

“That’s the other dinner I made for you, so eat.” 

Your giggle is all you can give to show your thanks.

He rolls onto his back, groaning theatrically, before tucking his hand behind his head, and his fingers coming to rest on his stomach. 

Behind the lids of his eyes, he can feel you watching him.

“What?” He grumbles, feeling around for your foot to pinch your ankle. He hears you move so he knows he’s close. “Not the right flavor, princesa?”

“No,” you laugh and prod his hip with your toe. “It’s just . . .”

His eyes open, finding yours in the half-lit gloom. You’re grinning the spoon in your mouth, eyes bright with something unnameable. You shrug, eying his hand between you both.

“I just never knew Fransisco Morales could be domesticated.” 

He wipes the chocolate off your chin with his thumb.

Yeah, who knew?

[winterillustrates]

WHAT YOUR FAV TWST CHARACTER SAYS ABT YOU!! (CRACK VERSION)

Ace: I'd hate you (/affectionately).

Deuce: I'd propose to your mom.

Cater: You need hugs. And followers.

Trey: You're as sweet as the cakes he makes. Also, you're his dentist.

Riddle: Mother issues. Same.

Leona: You have that one sibling you hate and one you pretend to hate.

Ruggie: You'd rob me and I'd call it our 'meet cute'.

Jack: I'd imitate you to look cool, ngl.

Azul: "Shady businessman/woman/enby? That has got to be my favorite genre." looking ass and I'd never judge you for that.

Jade: I'd bring you peace offerings almost everyday.

Floyd: You owe me a 150,000 worded essay on why and how your standards dropped so low.

Kalim: You want to be as optimistic as him, and you honestly deserve more credit for it. Plus, you cry yourself to sleep while hugging his plushie, cause it feels like he's crying with you. He probably is.

Jamil: I owe you a 300,000 worded essay on why he's the best, and I'd better get an agreement for each paragraph.

Vil: You love breaking gender norms and you hardly ever flop. You make long winded essays on character designs or "Ooh, shiny". No in-between. Also, you memorized his last name.

Rook: You kinda freaky and into yanderes. I'm into yanderes, but I hate this dude, so idk. I'd definitely say "I know what you are" to you, and you'd be thinking "She thinks I'm gay/bi/queer" and I'd be thinking "They're a serial killer".

Epel: You love the "Innocent girl who's a spawn of satan" and probably are one, yourself.

Idia: You "win" online arguments by doxing. That and your fav brother from Obey Me is Leviathan. Don't lie to me.

Ortho: You've always wanted a robotic younger brother!

Malleus: You're the majority. Congrats. (Also you have abandonment issues and ship MalYuu. Not that I can blame you, honestly).

Lilia: You say, "Ow, my hip hurts" then does the latest tik tok dance, no sweat.

Silver: You liked the mystery shrouding him. Plus, you love the found family trope.

Sebek: You see through his loud demeanor and really like his loyalty to his friends that aren't Malleus.

Yuu: You love yourself and I love you. <3

Grim: You're a snitch.

Sam: You are waiting for him to sing "Friends On The Other Side". You watched that one animatic by Laizyboy?? (Remind me the name)

Vargas: You actually thought eating raw eggs would make you strong. ... LOL. Jk. You ARE Vargas. I'm sorry, but how did he get THAT high in 2024 popularity polls?!?

Crewel: You have good taste. Might also be into getting praised.

Trien: VALID. YOU WANT A GRANDFATHER IN YOUR LIFE, RN.

Lucifer (^'s cat): Hello..............IDIA SHROUD.

Crowley: You are someone who wishes they could escape from their responsibilities as much as him. "He's a deadbeat, but he's a funny one."

Chenya: You like characters that are on crack.

Rielle: I...-- Is that even a character, dude?

Neige: You're the minority. Congrats. (Also, you are so confused abt the hate Neige receives)

Rollo: CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF, you aren't strictly religious. You also hate the double standards he's shown. And you think he looks actually kinda cute.

Fellow: You love seeing NRC boys get reckted.

Gidel: You think he's the cutest character in Disney. No one can/wants to change your mind.

Skully: You convinced him to skip the mandatory, "Twisted Wonderland is NOT an otome game".

Najma: You love fem!Jamil. Plus, you are the younger sibling that is secretly a little demon. As an older sibling, I'm sorry, but I will expose you at the slightest chance.

Dilia (Deuce's Mom): You're one of those people that Captain Man from Henry Danger was inspired from.

Marja (Epel’s granmama. Thx, https://www.tumblr.com/gremlinvapor): As a Marja lover, you love your grandmother and love hearing stories about her! And your grandma is low key a badass.

SCARABIA STUDENT B: W...who... who are you? Waiting until the ending for this guy. ... Idek what to say, honestly...

Mickey Mouse (Thx, https://www.tumblr.com/gremlinvapor): I’m the Donald to your Mickey. And you are probably so popular. Oh, you are also a cheap stake who fakes to like change, but actually despises it. You only like twst to be ‘woke’, but you don’t even like the characters or talk abt them.

(THIS WAS A JOKE. IF YOU ACTUALLY RELATE TO THESE RANDOM THOUGHTS I TYPED, THEN WOW I AM SHOCKED. Seriously, Idc who's your favorite, and I was not trying to discriminate or anything.

I tried to include all characters I could think of atm, but you are free to request more and I'll shove them in! These aren't even my opinions, I'm just tryna be entertaining.

If you'd like, guess my favorite(s)!

If I misspelt some characters names, I'm sorry and please politely correct me, thank you.)

[timetravellibrarian]

Ace x reader

Just me writing something to clear my heartbreak. Cried enough already.

_________________________________________

In another universe...

Where Blackbeard's plans had failed and Luffy managed to save his dear older brother.

In another universe...

Where Akainu couldn't get his last attack in because you managed to block it from hitting either of your favourite boys.

In another universe...

Where you had a df that could heal any injuries. Even if Akainu had placed a large whole in your best friend's body, you could still do something. Recreate all the missing parts and fit them in like they were never burnt to a crisp.

In another universe...

Where Ace could see that he is loved. That he deserves to live. That he is no curse but a blessing in many of the lives of people he met.

The both of you sat at one of the windows of the Polar Tang. Ace's head on your lap and you ruffling his hair. Death was so close to having it's clutches on him.  Now it was time for him to rest from all the emotions experienced on that battlefields.

Whitebeard was dead. His father figure was left to die standing back at Marineford. His crew retreating with tears threatening to spill. If it hadn't been for Shanks appearing out of nowhere there wasn't a doubt that they would have not left the place in a casket.

Luffy was being treated by Law and his crew, his body having caught up to all the energy hormones, the near death experiences, the amount of of power he had to use to try and save Ace. He gave his all. Even when his crew weren't by his side, he tried.

Your eyes trailed over Ace's peaceful state. You had forced him to wear a shirt. Since he had hung onto life by a thread, his power had already left, leaving him to experience temperatures he wasn't used to before eating the devil fruit.

Luffy still thought his brother was dead unfortunately. Everyone did. They hadn't seen him being picked up and healed along the way.

The sound of his steadied breath was comforting.

"Luffy's stable," Law approached the two of you silently, noting that the one was asleep." His body took on a lot. Needs time to repair itself."

"Thank you, Law." You head leaned against the wall as you looked at him, hands absentmindedly playing with Ace's hair.

"You alright? You look worse for wear." The doctor sat beside you.," I don't think reforming organs and tissues was your specialty." His tired eyes trailed over to the bandaged on your fingers.

"I try my best,"

Once Luffy had awoken, his eyes catching a glimpse of a tall dark haired male with freckles arguing with you over wearing a jacket he couldn't believe it.

"You're gonna catch a cold,"

"No, I won't." Cue the sneeze. He reluctantly wore the jacket. He looked away when he knew your face would have an expression that screamed "I told you so.". His eyes met with his younger brother's instead.

"Ace?"

The boy's eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing but his body immediately ran to his brother, tears starting to fall .

"ACE!!!"

They both collapsed onto the floor as they took in each other's presence. It was a happy sight. One that brought a smile onto your face. If it took your hands bleeding to see this kind of exchange, going past your healing capabilities, then it was worth it.

Soon you were pulled into the hug. Being squashed between the two brothers.

"THANK YOU SO MUCH, Y/N!" Luffy screamed into you face, a waterfall of tears going down his cheeks. He continued to spew a thousand words of thanks while still squashing you in a hug.

Law watched from the side, a small smile on his face. Ace catching him in his peripheral before walking to him to talk about something.

But soon the time for everyone to separate came. Rayleigh taking in Luffy to undergo training. Soon you were left alone with your friend, watching as his younger brother retreated.

The feel of a larger hand intertwining with yours caught your attention. Eyes going up to the taller fellow beside you. His face had relieved itself from his carefree smile and had a thoughtful frown.

"You alright?"

No answer. Before you could ask again you were carefully enveloped into a hug. You're head against his chest. A small peck was placed on your forehead.

"Thank you."

[diminuel]

The Rocks D. Crocodile headcanons and art got me thinking about the hilarious implications this has for the people who kind of "grew up" together. Like: Katakuri is 4ish years older than Croc; it's only known that Marco was already a member of the WBs as a 15 years old and he's only about 1 year younger than Croc; not to forget about Buggy & Shanks who got thrown into the mix by Roger; the possible overlap of Rosinante and Dragon because I can definitely see Garp voluntelling Dragon to look after Sennys boy so he can needle his friend; Mihawks past being free real estate and being only a few years younger than Croc. Like the awkwardness of these people encountering each other and just going, oh shit, that's my former "babysitter"/the weird child I got thrown with/my kind of brother lmaoo. Luffys parentage getting revealed and the people knowing Croc/Dragon just going, who allowed these people to procreate??? And together??????? No escape from them and their offspring. STINKY CHILD!MARCO REALIZING WHO RAISED ACE AND HAVING A CRISIS LMAO. The possibilities, this is so funny to me. Love your AUs and art <3

"Luffys parentage getting revealed and the people knowing Croc/Dragon just going, who allowed these people to procreate??? And together??????? No escape from them and their offspring."

X'D Yeah, that's super funny! Though I think most people don't know both Crocodile and Dragon. But those who do know the kind of explosive combination this is and really wonder how the world deserved this... And Luffy is involved in the destruction and destabilization of islands all over the Grandline X'D Who allowed this? For god's sake!

In Stinky Child AU, I don't think Marco would have known Crocodile well! The idea I have is that Crocodile joined the WBs when he was still very young, before Marco's time. And he also got kicked off the crew again before Marco joined. (Though of course if they picked up Marco very young, he might have been there!) But Marco was definitely around when WB and Crocodile fought and he might have heard just who this kid was from older crew members (even though I don't think WB realized who Crocodile was before he had already dealt some heavy damage). Though it would still be incredibly funny for Marco to have a crisis once he figures out that the person who raised Ace is someone they almost killed years ago (or his fellow cabin boy if they had been on the crew at the same time).

And yes, generally, the potential for chaos is endless! >:3

[queenlakiefer]

I guess you’ll never know

Sam was finally pulled free from the vampire’s clutches after the light of the sun burned his undead hand. David screamed in agony as his flesh sizzled. He quickly regained his composure as he saw the younger Emerson and the Frog brothers fleeing and yelled.

“I guess you don’t want to know what happened to your sister!”

This stopped the Frog brothers in their tracks, causing Sam to stop as well. The brothers turned around in disbelief at the mention of their missing sister. Edgar was the first of the brothers to speak.

“We know what happened, you blood suckers killed her and we won’t rest until every last one of you has a stake through the heart!”

Alan nodded in agreement, staring at David with more disgust than he usually would have stared at a vampire…he was offended that this…THING…this MONSTER dared mention his sister. This monster didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her let alone mention her.

David wanted nothing more than to tear them limb from limb for killing Marko but they were still safely in the sun’s rays. However he knew their weakness, he had an ace up his sleeve like he always does and the perfect bait to tempt them to their deaths.

“Never found a body did they? For all you know she could still be out there somewhere”

David was beginning to enjoy himself despite the events that unfolded not long ago. He enjoys toying with his food. David’s sadistic smile grew bigger and his gold and red vampiric eyes gleamed. He nodded behind him in the direction of the dark abyss of the sunken hotel.

“Could even be somewhere in this very cave”

The Frog brothers glanced around the small cavern as if hoping for a glimpse of their missing sister but quickly turned their eyes back to David. Alan was slightly weakening and Edgar spoke out as if sensing his brother’s hesitation.

“He’s lying! It’s just a death breath trick!” Edgar yelled, trying to convince his brother but also trying to convince himself.

This blood sucker wants to kill them, he’ll say anything to lure them into his trap. There is no way she is still alive, she would never abandon her family. If she was alive…no matter what, she would’ve found a way to escape and come home. She would never have put their parents or little brothers through this pain.

It was like a game of chicken, who was going to crack. Believing David wasn’t an option, he would rip them to shreds in a heart beat. Sam was taking all of this in and could only imagine how they must be feeling and how tempted they must be wanting to know what happened to their sister…if it was Michael then he’d feel the same way but perhaps this was for another time. They must go, they are wasting precious time.

“Let’s go.” Said Sam and Edgar nodded reluctantly.

Edgar wanted to know, god knows he did but he can’t believe the words of this vampire. There was no proof she was still alive and what matters now was to avenge her death. Take every last one of these blood suckers down…we owe her that. Edgar and Sam started to make their way out but realised that Alan was rooted to the spot so now it was their turn to drag him out, they grabbed Alan by his arms and pulled him towards the mouth of the cave.

“Don’t believe a word of it Alan, remember what he is.” Said Edgar before continuing.

“It’s classic vampire mind games. You know she would never abandon us, her family. She’s gone and we must slay every damn blood sucker in her memory.”

Alan came more to his senses as they were leaving, realising that Edgar and Sam were right and muttered.

“She’s gone”

David was still grinning and watched as they left. Before he disappeared into the shadows of the cave he chuckled darkly and spoke to the retreating vampire slayers.

“I guess you’ll never know”

[ragaahmk-blog]

White Beard knew that Ace was roger’s son from the start.

I believe that White Beard knew that Ace was roger’s son from the start. Wano arc made it pretty evident when it was mentioned that Oden’s position as the captain of the second division remained empty and only Oden and Ace ever held that position. White beard considered Oden as his younger brother which made this position very precious for the emperor. only someone as precious could hold that position. And he and roger were friends despite being rivals. So who deserves this position other than his friend’s son?

[wangxianficfinder]

A/B/O Compilation

~*~

Omega WWX / Alpha LWJ

🔒🧡 in flagrante delicto by synonemous (E, 39k, WangXian, Modern AU, Serial killer WangXian, A/B/O, Mpreg, Smut, Wangxian's Canon Kinks, Modern Yi City arc, Angst with a happy ending)

🧡 Don't Wanna Fall by nekojita (M, 111k, WangXian, Mpreg, A/B/O, Fix-it, Lots of pining, Angst with a happy ending, Canon Divergence, Child thief WN)

🧡 Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish by LadyMithiel (M, 133k, WIP, WangXian, A/B/O, Mpreg, Angst, Mostly Canon compliant)

4018 by sweetlolixo (E, 28k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, A/B/O, Older LWJ, Immortal LWJ, Pregnant WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Age Difference, Boypussy, Vaginal Fingering, Dry Humping, Knotting, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talking LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Size Difference, Feminization)

Sizhui's Smiles by RenaFair (T, 11k, WangXian, Possessive Behavior, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Alpha LSZ, Mpreg, Minor Child Character Death, Read the summary between the lines)

and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow by izanyas (M, 303k, WangXian, off-screen rape, oppression, violence, sexual assault, grief/mourning, unwanted pregnancy) Mind the warnings!!

Not my Betrothed by Missty0foxx (E, 21k, WangXian, Canon Era, A/B/O Dynamics, Younger WWX, Older LWJ, Teenage WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Possessive LWJ, Jealous LWJ, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Abusive YZY, Sexual Tension, Cockblocking, LWJ Has a Biting Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Rough Sex, WWX Self-Lubricates, LWJ Has a Big Dick, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Knotting, Rimming, Nesting, Pheromones, Implied Mpreg)

truly a love story for the ages by sweetlolixo (E, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Omegaverse, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Dark!Wangxian, Power Couple, slight daddy kink, Crack, Pregnant WWX)

Home is where the heart is by HikariNoHimeWriter (T, 3k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, No Sunshot Campaign, A/B/O, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Omega WWX, Omega JYL, Alpha LWJ, Rogue Cultivator WWX, But only a glimpse of it, JYL is a good big sister, She Deserves Love, She also loves A-Xian, more love for her, Family Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, JC & YZY are only mentioned)

🔒 Disruptions by mondengel (M, 3k, wangxian, A/B/O, Mating Cycles/In Heat)

Tastes Like You by airinshaw (E, 30k, wangxian, modern, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Scenting, Claiming, Bites, Getting Together, Light Dom/sub)

throw me in the deep end by lazulink (E, 12k, wangxian, A/B/O, No War, Canon Era, Mating Run, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Friends to Lovers, Nesting, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Knotting, Bondage, Spanking, Rimming, Breeding Kink, additional warnings in authors note)

🔒A Mother’s Curse (A Mother’s Blessing) by Eudoxia (E, 33k, wangxian, A/B/O, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Huli Jing LWJ, Huli Jing WWX, Everyone Lives, Curses, Case Fic, Animal Transformation, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, No Sunshot Campaign, No Yīn Iron, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, LXC is a good brother!, He tries so hard!!, Mentions of Ace LXC, Mentions of Ace WN, Knotting, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Size Kink, 69 (Sex Position), Mpreg, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, wangxian Have a Breeding Kink, Intersex Male Omegas, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Squirting, wangxian Have a Non-Con/Rape Kink, but no actual CNC/rape play occurs in this fic. It's only discussed. there is also discussions of monster fucking but no actual monster fucking)

get a little bit, come a little close by verseau (E, 5k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, A/B/O, Mildly Dubious Consent)

Kingfisher Feathers by anonymous (E, 122k, WIP, WangXian, Royalty AU, Emperor LWJ, Concubine WWX, A/B/O, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Angst with a happy ending)

🔒🧡 Rule Number One: Never get attached. by KizuKatana (E, 130k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O, Criminal underworld AU, Fluff and angst, Crime boss LWJ, Rouge criminal genius WWX, Explicit Sex)

The best kept secrets (taste the sweetest) by h0peless_oblivion (T, 13k, WIP, WangXian, Omega Verse, A/B/O Dynamics, Canon Divergence, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Child LSZ, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Fluff and Angst, Secret Baby, Past pining while fucking, Happy Ending, WWX doesn’t lose his golden core, Probably ooc, mention of possible SA (not between wangxian), Madam Lán Backstory, Good Uncle LQR)

The Marks on my Skin by Missty0foxx (E, 18k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Teenage LWJ/Teenage WWX, Matchmaker LXC, Red String of Fate, First Kiss, Pining WangXian, Fluff and Smut, Abusive YZY, Weddings, Marriage, Wedding Night, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rutting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Blow Jobs, Self-Lubrication, Marathon Sex, Knotting, LWJ Has a Big Dick, LWJ Has a Biting Kink, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink)

🔒Pendulum by ShippersList (M, 69k, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, A/B/O Dynamics, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Misunderstandings, Canon-Typical Violence, Spies & Secret Agents, Fake Character Death, Slow Burn, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, BAMF WWX, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canonical Character Death, Mutual Pining, Good MY, Introspection, Self-Sacrificing WWX, Love Confessions, Protective LWJ, past child sexual abuse)

~*~

Omega LWJ / Alpha WWX

ornament by iliacquer (E, 5k, wangxian, A/B/O, Breathplay, Extremely Dubious Consent, Alpha WWX, Omega LWJ, Implied Mpreg, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Public Humiliation, Exhibitionism, absolutely unhinged ooc smut, Top WWX, Bottom LWJ, Collars, Inappropriate use of resentful energy)

plant the seed of your love, let it take root by lulu_kitty (E, 37k, wangxian, modern, A/B/O, Omega LWJ, Bottom LWJ, Alpha WWX, Top WWX, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nesting, Knotting, Wangxian Have a Breeding Kink, Intersex Anatomy, Vaginal Sex, Anal Play, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Male Lactation, Lactation Kink, Quarantine Baby AU, Domestic Fluff, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, pandemic references, Everyone Lives AU, PWP, Fluff without Plot, Bratji behavior, Unrealistically Good First Time)

shyer by mellowflicker (E, 2k, wangxian, A/B/O, Canon Divergence, Omega LWJ, Alpha WWX, Bottom LWJ, Mating Cycles/In Heat)

five years gone by quillifer (E, 14k, wangxian, modern, A/B/O, Mpreg, Alpha WWX, Omega LWJ, Breakup/makeup, Miscommunication, Pregnant Sex, consent is king, soft sad and horny, Happy Ending, Bottom LWJ, Hurt/Comfort, Unplanned Pregnancy)

🔒❤️ spider lilies to sunflowers by cicer (E, 33k, wangxian, A/B/O, YLLZ WWX, fairy tale elements, mpreg, omega LWJ, alpha WWX, LWJ topping from the bottom, Mojo’s post)

🔒 so full of love i could barely eat by cicer (E, 40k, wangxian, A/B/O, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega LWJ, Alpha WWX, Bottom LWJ, mentions of mpreg, Breastfeeding, Lactation Kink, Male Lactation, Golden Core Reveal, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Intersex, Knotting)

🔒 I is for Instinct by beeswaxing (E, 71k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha WWX, Omega LWJ, Scenting, Possessive Behavior, Getting Together, First Time, First Kiss, Public Display of Affection, Public Claiming, Omega Verse, Good Parent LQR, Alpha YZY, Good Parent YZY, Family Feels, Fluff, Romance, Aftermath of Violence, Slice of Life, Modern AU, College/University, BAMF WWX, Soft WangXian, Barebacking, Knotting, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg)

penumbra by globose (E, 21k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Mpreg, YLLZ WWX, Demon/Human Relationships, Supernatural Elements, Omega LWJ)

~*~

Omega/Omega

🔒💖 i am the storm by everythingispoetry (M, 3k, wangxian, canon divergence, Sunshot Campaign, A/B/O, non-traditional A/B/O dynamics, Omega LWJ, Omega WWX, BAMF WWX, protective WWX, pre-relationship, mentions of rape/non-con, mentions of miscarriage)

~*~

Alpha/Alpha

Body Language by Scourge Daughter (scourgedaughter) (E, 33k, wangxian, F/F, modern, Office au, Office Romance, Hacking, hacker au kinda even though there's barely any onscreen, cybersecurity, A/B/O, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha WWX, Alpha LWJ, They both have dicks, wlw, Arranged Marriage, arranged marriage is not between wangxian, there is no wangxian/others, WangXian Endgame, Happy Ending, YZY's a+ parenting, Boston, boston as a location and a threat, isabella stewart gardner museum, porn despite the plot, wei ying's penchant to turn bad situations into opportunities, Suicide mention, Canonical Character Death, Sexual Harassment, Drunk LWJ, ruts, Anal Sex, spitting, Biting, Switch wangxian, They both top and bottom that's love baby, Genderbend, Meet kinda ugly, Vibes of enemies to lovers but it's wangxian so)

How to Deal with the Conundrum of Your Past Self: A Case Study by anatheme (E, 16k, wangxian, A/B/O, YLLZ WWX, Established Relationship, Pining, Sexual Tension, alpha YLLZ/alpha LWJ/omega mxy!wwx: the fic, ft. soft married wangxian, Threesome - M/M/M, yes lwj gets the knot after xx years, Bottom LWJ, Switch wangxian, Knotting, time travel of sorts, a thesis on making peace with and loving yourself, Happy Ending, welcome to my lwj has 2 hands for 2 wwx agenda)

🔒Not Your Typical Alpha by Eudoxia (E, 14k, Female WangXian, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Gender Changes, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX, Always a Different Sex, Rule 63, lesbian wangxian, Intersex female alphas, Knotting, Knotting Dildos, Dildos, Sex Toys, Awkward Sexual Situations, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, Cunnilingus, Biting, Spanking, Size Kink, Scent Kink, Spit Kink, Spit As Lube, lube as lube, Blow Jobs, Tit Slapping, Nipple Play, Lactation Kink, Come Inflation, Belly Bulge, pleasure dom lwj, Light Dom/sub, Cervix play, fantasizing about cervical penetration, Multiple Orgasms, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink, Loss of Virginity, First Time, Virginity Kink, Roommates/Housemates)

Habits of Defiance by Feynite (Not Rated, 5k, WIP, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha/Alpha, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX, Introspection, Homophobia, (of a sort), Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence)

Summer Heat by athena_crikey (E, 20k, WangXian, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, A/B/O Dynamics, Cloud Recesses lectures, alpha dynamics, Struggle for Dominance, very mild dubcon, lack of (verbal) communication, PWP-adjacent, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX)

In This Reality (it could only be you) by Khashana (E, 5k, WangXian, Omegaverse A/B/O Dynamics, fluff and porn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Oblivious WWX, Lan Disciple WWX, very light somnophilia, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Alpha-Alpha Sex, Rut Sex, Knotting, no dubcon, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX)

Rutbrain by holdmymetaphor (E, 6k, WangXian, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Rutting, Mildly Dubious Consent, because of said rut, Unreliable Narrator, Alpha/Alpha, Intercrural Sex, Spanking, Anal Sex, Muzzle, Knotting, copious amounts of cum (honorable mention), Misunderstandings, Getting Together)

Yours Shamelessly by kmichee (E, 41k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha WWX, Alpha LWJ, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting, Scenting, Discrimination, Fluff and Smut, letter writing, Courtship, Swordfighting, Epistolary, Alpha/Alpha, Switching, Bottom LWJ)

~*~

Alpha/Beta, Beta/Beta, Omega/Beta

The Dare by Deastar (E, 16k, wangxian, A/B/O, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Beta/Omega, Omega WWX, Beta LWJ, Canon Divergence, two self-sacrificing idiots go on a journey of self-discovery through the medium of marathon sex, unapologetically a fix-it, Post-Sunshot Campaign)

🔒💖 still lifes from a universe with you in it by everythingispoetry (T, 31k, wangxian, A/B/O, Canon Divergence, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Beta WWX, Omega LWJ, Everyone Lives AU, Cultivation Sect Politics, Family Feels, Hurt/Comfort, let lwj be spoiled agenda, immortal cultivators nonsense, Fluff, Autistic LWJ)

Under Extreme Duress by sssrha (T, 33k, wangxian, JFM/YZY, JYL/NMJ, LXC/NHS, JC/JZX, A/B/O, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Beta/Beta, Beta WWWX, Beta LWJ, Asexual WWX, Asexual LWJ, nearly everyone else is constantly horny, Crack, Accidental Baby Acquisition, WangXian gets together almost immediately, No Miscommunication, Implied Sexual Content, and a whole lot of it, "everyday" is cuddles, and letters when they can't cuddle, No Sunshot Campaign, Sect Leader WQ, Wangxian would like everyone to know, that premarital sex is forbidden, but they know no one's gonna listen to them, WIP)

OTHER

Wangxian A/B/O Bingo by Deastar (E, 99k, WangXian, Major Character Death, Underage, Rape/Non-Con, A/B/O, Qishan Wen Indoctrination, Dubious Consent, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Mpreg, Abortion, Pining while fucking, This universe's version of rape culture, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Xuanwu of Slaughter Cave, Hurt/Comfort, Dirty Talk, Omega LWJ, WWX Has Self-Worth Issues, Post-Canon, Alpha WWX, Alpha/Beta, Beta LWJ, Rule 63, Female LWJ/Female WWX, unlearning your bigoted programming, Canon Divergence, Beta/Omega, two self-sacrificing idiots go on a journey of self-discovery through the medium of marathon sex, unapologetically a fix-it, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, I wouldn't say we're quite in dead dove territory but this is a heavy one so proceed with caution, Guilt, Shame, Psychological Trauma, Non-Consensual Humiliation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Beta/Beta, Demisexual LWJ, Trans WWX, Fluff and Smut, Partial Cisswap, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, poor LQr is just trying to be a supportive ace elder and doing a great job actually, too bad it goes right over his niece's head, Beta WWX, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, not between WWX and LWJ, JFM & YZY's A+ parenting, Oblivious WWX, Angst)

[raine-kai]

How Much Ace Loved Luffy (and so does Sabo, but this is mostly about Ace)

I have been suffering from the worst One Piece brainrot. Seriously, I cannot think about anything else without bring it back to One Piece, which is particularly unfortunate this month when my schedule is completely nuts.

(A few days ago, I was reading a scientific paper and I saw the word "doctrine" and went "omg Dr. Kureha??? Why is this paper mentioning One Piece?"—it's that bad.)

The thing I have been thinking about the most is Luffy's relationship with his brothers.

First off, I would like to say that I vehemently disagree with the take that Sabo is just Ace 2.0. While the relay of their stories can make them feel that way on an emotional level, exacerbated by Sabo succeeding Ace with the flame-flame fruit powers, I think Oda has done an excellent job showing that they are very distinct not only in personality, but in their relationships with Luffy.

Ace was always the first brother.

He's the one who knows Garp just as well as Luffy. He's the one introduced to Luffy through Garp. He's the one Luffy initially attaches himself to. He's the one who was there all through Luffy's childhood and adolescence, who can do a handstand on Luffy's head with no explanation, knowing that Luffy can hold him and knowing that Luffy will understand exactly what he is telling Luffy to do.

Ace was also always the most self-deprecating brother. When he was arrested, his first and only request was that nobody tell Luffy about it. When talking to Jinbei, he tells him that he would have worried Luffy couldn't live without him, but having seen his crew, he knows that Luffy will be okay.

When Luffy hears that Ace is in trouble, his first reaction is that Ace has his own adventures, and that Ace will be angry if he drops everything to chase after Ace. But when he is told that Ace is in Impel Down and his execution day is already scheduled, he drops everything, including reuniting with his crew, to sneak into the highest security prison in the world to try to break out his brother.

Meanwhile, Sabo is the kind brother.

If Ace was aware of how codependent Luffy was with him and tried to utilize tough love to push Luffy away, he's also always been the most inclined to bicker and trade mockery and insults with Luffy. Meanwhile, Sabo has always been more inclined to be concerned for Luffy, and use positive reinforcement to help Luffy improve. When Ace and Luffy were at odds, Sabo was often the mediator.

Sabo and Ace have known each other longer than either of them has known Luffy, but their relationship as brothers exists because of Luffy. As Sabo pointed out in his farewell letter to Ace, they never even defined what kind of brother they were (a thing that has more significance in Japanese, where big brother/younger brother are terms far more common than the neutral "kyoudai", which translates to elder-brother-younger-brother, and can often denote a non-blood relationship).

Luffy is their crybaby weakling baby brother, and they are both willing to throw everything aside if they are worried that Luffy might be in trouble. Not once in the story have Ace or Sabo showed up without stepping in to rescue Luffy somehow.

But today, the rescue that sticks in my brain is the most painful one of all: the death of Portgas D. Ace.

In a world full of people who exposit about the honor and dignity of a death with a back unmarked by scars, Ace dies with his back to Akainu, whose fist goes right through the tattoo proclaiming Ace's loyalty to Whitebeard.

Whitebeard's significance in Ace's life was huge.

With Ace's anger issues rooted in a childhood of being told he should never have existed, his arc is about learning that yes, he deserved to exist—he deserved to live.

And while Luffy's love, Luffy declaring how much he needed Ace, provided something of a salvation, some kind of purpose, it was not enough. Because Ace was trying to teach Luffy to be self-sufficient—was trying to help him to grow up into a man who wouldn't need Ace. Even at the very end, as he thanks Luffy for loving him, he describes himself with self-deprecation.

Being needed wasn't enough. Ace needed Whitebeard, because he needed a parent figure whom he could believe loved him, for whom he was enough. His relationship with Dadan was too utilitarian: he brought her food, and she let him stick around. His relationship with Garp was too marked with the conflict born of Garp's stated wish for Ace and Luffy to become marines. Whitebeard was the first person to embrace Ace exactly as he was and call him his son, and never expect him to be or do anything else.

Ace is genuinely surprised at the war that is waged to save his life.

Not only does he not expect Luffy to show up, he doesn't even expect Whitebeard to show up.

Regarding Whitebeard, Ace sees his actions as his own failure. He did not listen when Whitebeard told him to let Blackbeard go. His own failure to heed his father's cautionary words should not be cause for his father to wage war on the marine headquarters, he thinks.

But when Luffy turns up, Ace shouts at him—exactly as Luffy had predicted. He demands to know what Luffy thinks he's doing, weakling that he is. That Ace has his own adventures and his own pirate crew, and he doesn't need Luffy to come too.

"I'm your little brother," says Luffy in response, and I always start tearing up at that line, in manga or anime.

As far as Luffy is concerned, losing Ace is not an option.

And that one line is all it takes to make Ace back off. To remember that yes—Luffy is still his little brother, though they each have their own crews now.

The Marineford War is so full of moments where Luffy shows himself to be capable of so much more than anybody expected was possible.

But of course we all know how it ends. Luffy is the one to free Ace, but he's also the one who doesn't notice how vulnerable he is to the charging Akainu.

And Ace takes the blow intended for Luffy with his back—right in the tattoo declaring his alliance to Whitebeard.

I can't stop thinking about the significance of this.

All Ace had ever been searching for—family, belonging, purpose, acknowledgement that he was wanted—he got from Whitebeard, who was his parent in a way that nobody ever was, breaking through his insecurities about his parentage in a way that surely only got through to Ace because Whitebeard is someone who personally knew Roger. In a world without Luffy, Whitebeard and his crew would have been Ace's salvation.

But we don't live in that world. We don't know if Ace would have made it long enough to join Whitebeard in a world without Luffy.

What Ace tells us in the way that he shielded Luffy from Akainu was that Luffy was worth more to him than everything he got from Whitebeard and everyone on that crew. That he loved Luffy above and beyond all others.

And he thanked Luffy (and Whitebeard and his crew) for loving him.

I'm sure there has been ample discourse on the significance of these things. I'm pretty sure I've read, if not participated in it. But having circled back here recently, I feel like I'm discovering the significance all anew.

Ace said thank you for loving me and not I love you because he saw more value in being loved than his own love. Surely it would have been more comforting to Luffy to hear that he was loved—but Ace is caught up in the idea that he is demonspawn, not worth existing, much less being loved.

With how much he talks about Luffy to everyone he meets, surely in a world where he did not have cause to question his existence, where he did not grow up knowing that the world wished him dead, he would have been happy to just exist with the brothers he loved. He would not have felt he needed to prove that he deserved to exist.

Meanwhile, though Luffy idealizes pirates from an earlier point in the story, their backstory shows us that Luffy's desire to grow stronger originates in learning how Sabo "died". And Ace supports this narrative that Luffy ought to grow stronger, more self-sufficient.

At Luffy's core is simply love: a desire to hold his loved ones close, to be strong enough to never lose them again.

But he lost Ace anyway.

And Ace just wanted Luffy to be safe—to go on without him. His only regret, he said, was that he wouldn't be around to see the end of Luffy's dream.

Ace, at his core, just wanted to be loved. And he had that, but was not able to accept it, to believe that he deserved it, until the very end.

And isn't that just heartbreaking?

I believe that it was Ace's spirit, realizing Sabo was still alive, who knocked the memory back into him, screaming at him what the hell has he been doing, go protect and support their baby brother.

I believe Ace still lives on in Luffy, who will never stop loving the brother who all but raised him.

But I need to cry about it anyway. Again.

[itiswormtimebaby]

Strengths (and weaknesses)

Pairing: Biker!Bucky and Bug (+Brother’s best friend Bucky, Plus sized fem reader) AN: Bucky’s interlude. This installment is all about seeing things from a different perspective, and hopefully gaining some insight into why Bucky is handling things the way he is. Also, just a reminder that Steve is Bug’s adopted brother.  CW: Angst, references to underage sex (not explicit)/sex under the influence, smut, language, insecurities and low self esteem, unhealthy relationships, references to war/bodily harm (Bucky losing his arm), Bucky has complicated feelings when it comes to his prosthetic, 

Picks up shortly after Just the Tip

His room is dark, ceiling fan and ancient AC unit working to drive the heat of the afternoon away. You're asleep, at least he thinks you are, back rising and falling in a smooth rhythm, naked skin mostly hidden by the soft cotton sheet. Reaching out he allows one finger to trace smoothly down the soft rolls of your back, ghosting across where earlier he’d pressed to keep you cemented to the mattress. His cock stirs to life at the memory, he’d been inside of you, at least partly, he’d cum in you, he’d been so close…So close to fucking you the way you deserve, so close to giving you what you wanted, so close, so close, so-

For just a moment he’s fifteen again, fifteen with his pants around his ankles and beer on his breath, finishing quick, uncertainty knotted in his gut. She’d been a relative stranger, but nice enough, older than him by just over a year, more experienced. She’d left him with a smudge of crimson across his cheek, a hello and goodbye all rolled into one. He didn’t regret it, at least he didn’t think he did. It could have been worse. 

But then again it could have been better. Dolores, Dot, she was better. She was more than nice enough, she was kind, considerate. A good first girlfriend. Sex with her was saccharine, but in hindsight he suspects they were too young to be having it, their emotional bond not strong enough to carry their physical. They see-sawed from off to on, through many what if’s until the final what if led to the final goodbye. If he had to guess he would say she still thinks of him fondly (if at all), thoughts filtered through the rose colored haze of first love. At least he hopes she does, it’s how he sees her, a pleasant memory. 

He recalls you around that same time, not much younger but it certainly felt that way. Steve’s kid sister, Bug, as in bug off, as in shoo fly shoo, as in an annoyance. He’d loved you though, not in the way he loved Dot, but in a way that felt substantial none-the-less. He’d have done anything for you. Still would, though the motivation has changed significantly. 

He pulls back his fingers as if burned when you whimper softly in your sleep, head burrowing further into the silk pillowcase he bought just for you. It’s a silly thought but he wonders if, even while unconscious, you can feel his longing for you, how desperately he wants to love you, to be enough for you. He wonders if he would have been enough before- before the war, before his arm, before her. The lenses through which he sees her are not rosy. 

After he’d been medically discharged from the military, left arm and peace of mind blown to shit, he’d been desperate for distractions. First it was the club, then a slew of bodies happy to warm his bed for an evening, and then- well then he’d hit a wall. The PROSPECT patch on his kutte was long gone, the sex going from exciting to mundane, and then she’d walked in. She was pretty, and a real spitfire as his Ma would’ve said, most importantly she kept him on toes, she kept him distracted. The sex was phenomenal, the strong cornerstone of an otherwise rocky relationship. Bucky wasn’t sure if he saw her as his forever, if he ever had or would, but with over two years spent together he wasn’t willing to just throw it away. “We’re both just very… passionate,” he’d assured Steve after he’d come to Bucky with concerns, having heard them in a knock-down-drag-out-fight in the parking lot of the clubhouse (he swore his back nearly scarred from how deeply her nails cut into it that night as he fucked all his anger from the argument into her). 

It hadn’t been the same after that, after his best friend had held up a mirror to show him just how unhealthy his relationship had become; the final nail in the coffin was Steve asking “What if Bug was in a relationship like that, you’d be cool with it?” Bucky felt ashamed. So he tried, he tried a lot of things; he took her on expensive dates, bought her jewelry, quit allowing explosive arguments to serve as foreplay to rabid sex. He’d overheard her and her friends one night, they talked about how brave and selfless she was to love a man like him, a man so obviously broken. He wondered if that was the conversation she had in mind when later she looked at him and said; “I’ve seen all the ugliest parts of you, Bucky Barnes, and I stayed. Who else would?” 

She had a point, didn’t she? He hadn’t come back home whole, wasn’t the same man that left. Not as good with people, not as charming, not as hopeful…But he was trying. Things seemed to be improving. She stayed- until she didn’t. He was confused, he’d been doing everything right, he was sure of it. That hadn’t stopped her from leaving, calling him miserable, hopeless, a sorry ass loser- a great fuck but a shitty boyfriend. A great fuck. “Word of advice? Stick to what you’re good at.” A great fuck. “I’ve seen all the ugliest parts of you, Bucky Barnes, and I stayed.” But she hadn’t, not in the end.

A great fuck. 

You look so innocent in your sleep, even with his cum slowly leaking out of you. He carefully adjusts his position until he has you  nestled in his arms, back pressed to his chest. Fuck he didn’t want to lose this. 

He’d loved you in some capacity for well over a decade, since you became Bug, as in bug off, as in shoo fly shoo, as in an annoyance. Steve’s kid sister. But it had been ages, really, since he saw you that way. Sure, you were still his Bug but you were also a woman now, one that laughed like the girl he grew up with but that was also so…confident, funny, smart, pragmatic when it counted and silly when it didn’t. Kind, and good, and bright, so fucking bright. And he, he’s broken... That night you’d gotten high, that night that changed everything, he could hardly believe his luck. You’d opened the door for him, given him an in for something more. A better man would have shut it, would have encouraged you to find someone more worthy, but he never claimed to be a good man, he was selfish and he wanted you. When you’d agreed to let him date you first he knew that was his chance. He may not be worthy but he could prove he was willing to try anything to be, he’d take you on dates, smooth out any rough edges with mind numbing pleasure, keep you physically sated. That was the part he was good at. 

A great fuck. 

That was what you’d called him over that night to be “Please, Bucky, please, you have to fuck me.” And he would, would just like he promised, but he couldn’t- not yet. Today had been too close a call, he’d barely been able to stop at the tip, your tight heat calling him home. But he had to be patient, you’d initiated this all because of sex, if he gave it to you too soon you might not stick around long enough for him to show you he could be good at the rest too; he could, right?

A great fuck.

…but a shitty boyfriend.

[someprettyname]

"Hey!" You walk up to him, "Cut it out. You're being rude to my brother."

It was blue lock's break after U-20 and somehow the teachers and principal had convinced him to come back and play with his school level team again. Just for tips and stuff. Your brother was the captain and ace of that team. He was even called prodigy by many. In short, he didn't just deserve the absolutely harsh and cold shoulder he just got. And that too without any advice for improving. If this asshole dude hates people and other footballers so much and can't show basic decency, he shouldn't have come to begin with.

He gives you a side eye, "hmphs" and proceed to walk away like he was. "Whatever." He mumbled.

"No no." You grab him firmly by his shoulder and walk around to face him, your expressions sharp, "You don't get away treating my lil brother like that just because your big brother got away with treating you like trash."

Well for a little context, you used to be his classmate since a very young age. You saw him at the starting of playing football, you saw his brother leaving for Spain, you saw a look of determination in his eyes after he did.....and you also saw the look change to something near hatred somewhere along the line. And you saw it all with your own eyes. Well, you could only speculate, but you're sure you have a good idea what might've happened between them. Specially after watching the vs U-20 match.

"Hah?!" His nose scrunched up, "And who the hell do you think you are? How Lukewarm-"

"Oh." You chuckle humorlessly and shake your head, "atleast not someone who bases off his whole identity on beating his brother."

His jaw clenched but he calmed himself. No. He can be an asshole at times but he's better than beating up girls. He brushes your hands off his shoulder with a click of tongue and you let him. But that doesn't mean you stopped staring at him, "that's how they learn."

Ah. So we're going this way? You grab his collar. You can't justify being a douchebag with "oh but that's how it is". A good teacher and healthy person knows better ways.

"And did you learn, Itoshi Rin? Isagi still beat you to it."

And your words were a brutal remainder of how being tough on yourself might not lead to perfection. How even despite so much he still might have flaws. The exact thing he was thinking of by the bridge and your ago. That his ways at going on about normal life might be wrong too. But his ego was too thickheaded to accept it. His jaw clenches with frustration. Damn it. That's why he hates losing.

"All I'm saying is bring those stupid hung up principles in normal life and you lose at real life too." You give him one last glare and leave, walking over to your brother.

And that was the day a story to be told was born. An enemies to lover trope. Because oh do you piss him off, but he didn't fail to notice how protective and loving to your younger brother you were. The thought of your love for your brother being directed at him gave him a feeling of a void in him (which he didn't even knew existed) being filled. It was a wierd - hateful yet longing feeling he felt in that moment.

banner from @/cafekitsune

[daddyhausen]

｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡ 「 KINKTOBER DAY SIXTEEN : DOUBLE VAGINAL PENETRATION 」 ｡ ･ : * ˚ : ✧ ｡

「 MASTERLISTS 」 | 「 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST 」

「 COMMISION INFO 」 | 「 LIKE MY WORK? BUY ME A COFFEE — KOFI — DXDDYHXUSEN 」

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「 SUMMARY 」 — both brothers desired you but their competitive streak gets in the way

「 WARNINGS 」 — 18+, [ MINORS DNI ], dvp, dom!reader, handjobs, sharing, praise, vaginal sex, penetrative sex, vaginal creampie, squirting, internal cumshot

「 WORD COUNT 」 — 1.1k

「 PAIRING 」 — fem!reader x the young bucks

「 GENRE 」 — smut

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「 TAGLIST 」 — @cosmoholic13 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @adamjf @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk @thepalaceofmelanie @violetmacher @seeingstarks @kennysbadkitten @darkangelchronicles @ripleyswife @selena-tyler-564 @auburnwrites @biforrollynch

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「 COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST 」

their competitive arguing could be heard down the hall

the brothers seemingly frustrated at their loss of their match

and the subsequent loss of their best friend in one kenny omega

nick seemed more level headed of the two surprisingly

while matt’s tempter tantrum raged throughout the arena

the pair storming into the locker room

fury ravaged both their faces

their gaze soften upon meeting yours

it was nothing special in particular in your appearance that made them stop and stare

you were always the calming force behind their fury

a simply smile from you could melt their frozen hearts instantly

matt fell to his knees breathlessly between yours

his head resting upon your thigh as he gazed up apologetically at you

“i’m sorry…” he muttered softly against your thigh

“don’t be sorry” you cooed sweetly, a hand running through the damp strands of matt’s hair

“you boys did so well” nick took a seat beside you, sighing heavily

despite his calm demeanor, he was burning with anger, betrayal

matt’s lips gently peppered kisses to your exposed thigh, inching closer and closer to your covered sex

nick eyed him curiously, the younger brother fuming with jealously

“what are you doing?” nick remarked

“what does it look like, idiot” matt responded with his usual sarcastic quip, fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts

“you lost. you don’t deserve to fuck her” nick placed a protective hand on your thigh

“and what gives you the right to say that huh? last time i checked dumbass, you lost too-“

“well you ate the damn pin!-“

“boys! enough!!” you retorted sternly

“if you keep this up than neither of you get to fuck me”

they cut their act momontarily, offering each other almost apologetic glances

“now…” you started “you boys gotta learn to share”

you pat the seat beside you, offering matt to follow along

he quickly got up, taking his place beside you

slowly you pried his ring gear down, freeing his cock from the elastic restraint, slowly beginning to stroke his size

matt shuddered with a shaky breath instantly writhing against the pleasure of your hand

you began to place chaste kisses to his jawline, adoring the whimpers that left his lips

your free hand reached back, beginning to palm nick through his own gear

the younger brother let out a prolonged groan, the simple touch leaving his mind in a daze

nick’s fingers reached down into your shorts, rubbing small circular strokes against your clit

you whimpered against matt’s lips, quickly breaking the kiss to give the same attention to his brother

nick’s kiss was more feverish, the subtle rage that bubbled underneath only added to his passion.

he retrieved his cock, grabbing your wrist and wrapping your hand around his shaft

both brothers mumbled and moaned with pleasured obscenities

nick’s fingers dancing around your clit

while matt’s gripped the arm rests of the couch, desprate and needy for release

“oh god…” matt groaned, cock feverish and swollen

“you close pretty boy?” you cooed with a small whimper as nick’s finger curled upward inside your cunt

matt nodded, bitting his bottom lip to suppress his moans

his seed spilling over your knuckles in spurts of warm white, his breath labored as you continued to pump his cock

nick removed his fingers from your void, averting your gaze from his brother to himself

you released matt’s cock, the older brother gasping in relief

you did not want to waste anymore time with them

poor nick would have one orgasm less than his brother it may seem

quickly releasing nicks cock as well, sitting on his lap motioning from a still recovering matt to stand behind you

matt postitioned himself in the directions you told him too

standing behind you as nick pried your shorts down your thighs

your pretty cunt glistening under the dim locker room lighting

matt gulped thickly, still breathless from his first orgasm

you lifted up your hips, allowing nick’s cock to snake between your thighs

grazing the tip against your soaked walls before eventually slotting himself in with ease

a soft shudder escaped the younger of the two’s lips as he butied himself fully inside you

“c’mon pretty boy. don’t be shy” you teased matt playfully

grinding yourself back to give him a full view of your already stuffed cunt

egging him on to fill you even more

matt hesitated for a second, grasping his cock st the base, guiding himself towards your dripping void

some resistance on your part but otherwise is was such a heavenly feeling

you cunt gripped both their cocks tightly

both boys groaned with equal amounts of pleasure running through their veins

you began to bounce against both of them, feeling their cocks slot deep into your cunt one after another

“holy shit…” nick mattered, grabbing your hips and slamming them down onto his cock

both brothers began an assault on your cunt, the pleasure was so intense that your mind began to spin, eyes rolling into the back of your head

loud, choked moans spilling from your lips

“god…so tight” matt’s moans left his lips in soft sputters

mind still delirious from his previous and noe second impending orgasm

“you gonna cum on our cock’s angel?”

you nodded feverishly at nicks question, hips slapping back against theirs, taking their cocks fully

matt filled you first, his cock twitching and throbbing deep within your walls

still overstimulated and sensitive as white hot ropes seeped from between your thighs

a mix of moans and profanities left the younger buck’s lips

nick on the edge of orgasm himself

feeling the tightness of your cunt grip his cock

it was inevitable

both bucks were breathless

matt not so than nick

the older of the two having pulled out of you already

now sitting back watching the way his seed dropped out of you

“oh fuck…!” you whined, cunt creaming around nick’s size

spilling around his shaft, feeling so wonderfully stretched out

“fuck angel…you made a mess for us…”

nick’s rebuttal was cut of by a soft groan

his cock throbbing deep in your walls

cum painting your insides white with his warmth

“shit-“ he thre his head back in pleasure, just reveling in the feeling

the three of you basking in a comfortable post sex silence

nicks cock still buried deep within you

you glacéd up at nick momentarily, the blues of his eyes glazed over with adoration

still so fucked out

matt on the other hand was eager to touch you again

impatient it seems as his hands were already at your waist, cock pulsing against your ass

“you boys get yourselves cleaned up, we’ll go another round at the hotel”

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[tae-rambles]

Apologies if this was answered, but what are your thoughts/analysis about the natural way Oda portrays characters internalizing/repeating beliefs from others? Such as when Law word for word told Tashigi what Doflamingo had told him regarding "the weak not choosing how they die". It was rather baffling, because though Law and Doflamingo may share the "same eyes", to reiterate anything, even if true/you agree with, that someone you truly hate had said feels foreign to me (particularly because it doesn't necessarily feel like a scene where a victim hurts others the same way they were hurt?). Secondly, the amount of scenes Luffy has talking about his dislike for "weak people" or "crying" (Shirahoshi). I know Luffy had similar sentiments when meeting Shanks but to me, everytime he repeats it, I just see Ace talking. It almost feels like a subconscious way of holding onto a part of Ace. Interested to know any other instances you noticed!

Heyo, thank you for the ask and sorry for the very late reply. I was busy and then just kept getting distracted.

To talk about the scene with Law and Tashigi we first need to keep in mind that at that point, Doflamingo was basically living rent free in Law's head as he was so focused on taking revenge on him which must have triggerd a barrage of intense emotion of hatred, pain and fear on his psyche making him slip back into his sadistic habits that he gained after the Flevance genocide. So it isn't so far fetched that he subconsciously quoted the man he saw as an inspiration for three years when his mind was most vulnerable for manipulation. However, Law puts his own twist to the meaning of this quote. when Doflamingo says "the weak do not have the right to choose how they die", he uses it to justify murder. But when Law says it, he uses it to refuse Tashigi's request to kill her. "Murder isn't my style. I'm a doctor" (- Law in ch 918) - a principle he inherited from his parents and regained after Rosinante saved him and both his literal and metaphorical heart. In conclusion, Law saying that to Tashigi was a reflection of both the people who had the most influence on his minds and actions during the whole Dressrosa saga. The words may be the same as Doflamingo's but the heart of the message carry Rosinante's love - just like Law who acts aloof and grumpy on the outside but actually has a soft heart.

When it comes to Luffy hating "crybabies", i do believe he got those words to express his feelings from Ace. I'd also like to point out that all the characters Luffy told that too were younger than him (Koby, Shirahoshi, Momonosuke) so you could say he channeled Ace's big brother energy in those instances. But it is also important to point out that unlike Ace, who would scowl at Luffy when reprimanding him for being a "crybaby" or a "weakling" (note: this is not a dis on Ace, he was going through a lot and his bad attitude is understandable), Luffy has a big grin on his face (with Koby and Shirahoshi at least, i don't remember how exactly he was with Momo, i'd have to re-read, sorry) which indicates there's no real heat behind his words since we also know what it looks like when he actually hates someone (Luffy's expressions can be scary sometimes but it's also often times very deserved reaction).

There are plenty more instances of characters internalizing and repeating beliefs of others since inherited will is one of One Piece's main themes. Some examples off the top of my head:

Luffy's idea of what a pirate is came from Shanks

Nami's soft spot for children and love of tangerines inherited from Bell-Mère

Franky's "existence is not a crime" from Tom's speech about building ships/weapons

Iceburg revitalizing Water 7's economy by founding Galley-La like Tom did by building the sea train

Robin's love of history and her determination to preserve it from the scholars of Ohara

Shirahoshi refusing to hate humans to preserve Otohime's wish for the future

Chopper wanting to become the greatest doctor inspired by Hiriluk

Sanji refusing to kick women and fight with his hands to honor Zeff

Bonney believing in Nika like Kuma

Rebecca refusing to fight offensively to fulfill Scarlett's wishes of not staining her hands with blood

Yamato being inspired by Oden to seek his own freedom

Roger inspiring many to strive to become the Pirate King

and many more... i'd be here forever if i were to name all of them

Hope that satisfies your question and i'm again really sorry it took so long for me to answer