#and it’s not anything serious i think it’s more so understanding the way i am and what makes me anxious or overwhelmed and accepting that

[4linos]

ghosts of the past

hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

synopsis/request: the more hyunjin compares you to his ex, the more you begin to lose yourself in the relationship. after an emotional confrontation, hyunjin is left to reflect on his past and his feelings for you.

wc: 2273

The tension between you and Hyunjin had been building for weeks, making it difficult to ignore. It was hard to understand at first. Just small changes; he was more easily distracted, distant when you tried talking to him, and his smile didn't reach his eyes like it once did. What stung the most were his silent remarks. Every now and then, he'd casually mention his ex-girlfriend, Nabi, and you'd brush it off, thinking yourself it was just a harmless slip of the tongue, a hint of nostalgia that wasn't supposed to hurt.

You knew about Nabi. You'd met her once before things between you and Hyunjin became serious. She was sweet and smart, and it seemed that they had parted ways peacefully. There was no animosity. They had been friends for a long time before they started dating, and even after their breakup, they had maintained a respectful, even friendly relationship. You can understand that friendships from previous relationships weren't forgotten quickly. But it wasn't only her presence in the background that bothered you. It was the constant, unintentional comparisons Hyunjin made, as if everything he said or did was subconsciously weighed against what Nabi had done in the past.

The first few times it happened, you convinced yourself it was only a throwaway comment, a moment of exasperation that didn't mean much. But as the weeks passed, you saw a pattern: anytime Hyunjin was upset with whatever you did, whether it was how long you took to get dressed or how you handled a situation, he'd always make a remark about how "Nabi never did that" or "Nabi would've understood."

And it stung. Every time it gnawed at your insides, you stayed quiet. You didn't want to seem insecure or petty. Maybe he didn't really mean it. Maybe it was all in your head.

But today, as you stood in front of the mirror, checking your reflection before heading out to your friend’s birthday dinner, something inside you snapped. You had tried to shake off the feeling of being second place, tried to brush it aside as just your own insecurity. But today? Today, you were done pretending you didn’t feel like you were suffocating under the weight of his words.

You could hear him from the other room, pacing in frustration. “I don’t know why it takes you so long to get ready. Nabi never took this long. It’s just a dinner. Seriously, we’re gonna be late.”

His voice floated through the open door, and even though you tried to focus on your outfit, trying to keep calm, the words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stared at your reflection, trying to control the emotions rising in your chest, but they refused to be contained any longer.

With a sharp inhale, you turned around and walked toward the living room, your heart beating loudly in your chest. Hyunjin didn’t see you at first, his back turned as he stared at his phone. But you didn’t need to be subtle anymore. This needed to be said, once and for all.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Your voice was low, almost too calm. It felt unnatural, like you were forcing the words to come out.

Hyunjin turned around, surprise flashing across his face. He hadn’t expected you to confront him. He opened his mouth, but you cut him off before he could say anything.

"Every time, Hyunjin. Every time we argue, you bring up Nabi. And I get it. You two are close. I'm fine with that. But what am I supposed to do with the way you talk about her as if she were a gold standard?" Your voice was trembling now, despite your attempts to keep it firm.

He grimaced, obviously not understanding where you were coming from. "What are you talking about? I'm just frustrated by how long you take. That’s all. I didn't mean to—"

"You didn't mean to?" You scoffed and shook your head. "Hyunjin, how many times? How many times have you compared me to her without even thinking about it? Do you even realize what you’re doing to me?”

He looked taken aback now, guilt creeping into his expression. He took a step toward you, but you held your ground. You couldn’t let him think it was just a misunderstanding anymore.

“You keep comparing me to Nabi. And I’m just supposed to sit here, pretend it’s fine, like I’m not constantly feeling like I’m falling short? Like I’m not constantly second best?” Your voice cracked, and you couldn’t hold back the emotion that spilled out. “You can’t even admit it, can you? That maybe… maybe you still have feelings for her. That maybe you’re just holding onto me because it’s easier than letting go. Because you still have her in your heart.”

The silence that followed was overwhelming. Hyunjin stood still, frozen. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came. There was a strong sense of guilt between you. You could see it on his face, his eyes wide, as if everything you said had suddenly broken through a barrier he hadn't even knew existed.

"Well?" you urged, barely maintaining your composure. "If you still have feelings for Nabi, go back to her. If you still miss her, I won't stand in your way. But I'm not going to keep pretending that this us is enough for you when it's obvious that it isn't."

Hyunjin flinched like you’d slapped him, his expression full of regret and confusion. “No, I—I don’t want that. I never meant to make you feel that way. It’s just... I don’t know why I’ve been doing this.”

“You don’t know?” you repeated bitterly, your voice trembling. “You’ve been doing it for weeks, Hyunjin. And I’ve just been letting it slide, because I thought I could handle it. But I can’t. I’m not gonna sit here and watch you live in some fantasy where I’m just a replacement for someone who was ‘better.’”

His face softened, the apology in his eyes so clear, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hear it. Not right now. Not after everything that had been building up between you two, all the things you’d buried deep down to protect the relationship.

“Don’t follow me,” you said quietly, your throat tight. You turned away from him, grabbing your jacket and bag, the weight of your emotions suddenly too heavy to bear. “I’m going to the dinner. I’m going alone. I need to be alone.”

You didn't wait for him to respond. The words were out now, and you could feel the distance between you two growing with each second. You couldn't pretend anymore. You couldn't keep shrinking into his shadow, wondering where you stood in his heart.

You approached the door, the cold evening air welcoming you as you opened it. You didn't look back. Not this time.

"Don't follow me," you repeated one more time, your voice quiet but assertive. "I need to be alone."

As the door closed behind you, the weight of the unspoken things, the things you had held in for so long, hung in the air, and you walked away, uncertain of what the future held but certain that you couldn’t stay where you were anymore.

After you went, the night was uncomfortably quiet. Hyunjin felt each minute last longer than the last, the silence in the apartment bearing down on him, making him feel smaller and more helpless by the second. He was mindful of your need for space. You'd made it obvious, and he didn't want to do what he usually did: jump in to fix things right away.

He felt that the pain couldn't be soothed by words alone. But damn, he hated the sense of knowing he was to blame, as well as the thought that you were most likely out there alone, bearing all of that weight.

He spent most of the evening sitting on the couch, restless, repeating everything in his mind. The way your voice cracked as you approached him. That look in your eyes as you told him you weren't enough. He felt stupid; how could he have been so blind? How could he have allowed his frustration to manifest itself in such an unfair way toward you?

By the time you returned, it was obvious that the night hadn't been kind to you either. You went through the door, exhaustion on your shoulders, but the moment you stepped inside, Hyunjin couldn't stop looking at you. His stare followed you around the apartment as you removed your jewelry and makeup. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, but he couldn't stop watching you either, his heart heavy with regret.

You didn’t look at him when you spoke. Your voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it. “If you have something to say, Hyunjin, just say it. Stop staring at me like that. You’re making this worse.”

He flinched at the words, the sharpness cutting through the air between you both. His heart tightened, guilt sinking deeper. He knew he needed to say something. He knew he had to make it right, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Finally, he said, his voice raspy with guilt. "I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I had no idea what I was doing. I never thought I was comparing you. It was not like that. "I'm really sorry." You shook your head, letting a bitter laugh escape your lips.

"Hyunjin, how did you not know?" How did you not realize you were making me feel like I was second best? That every tiny remark was about her? You turned to face him, eyes piercing and raw. "Did you still think of her? Do you still want her? Because that could be everything you've been looking for, and I've only been a placeholder."

His eyes widened at the accusation. “No. No, that’s not it,” he said, rushing to explain. “I—I never wanted her back. I’m not in love with her anymore. I love you. I love you so much, and I swear I never meant for any of that to make you feel less than what you are to me. I’ve been an idiot, and I regret it. Please, just—please let me show you how much I love you.”

Your heart twisted at his words, but you couldn't suppress the anger and hurt that still lingered. “Then why did you keep comparing me to her, Hyunjin? Why does she even come up in every fight we have?”

He took a step forward, his voice desperate now. "I'm not even sure why it came out like that. I don't want to be the one to hurt you, and I know I've made mistakes, but I promise you that I love you. I'll do whatever to get you to forgive me. I don't care how long it takes. Please don't leave me thinking I've lost you because of my stupid mistakes."

You caught his eyes, looking for anything that would make you believe this was worth fighting for. His eyes were filled with despair and anxiety. Fear of losing you because, at that moment, he recognized how close he was to doing so.

But even with all the pain you felt, you could see that he was genuine. He wasn’t making excuses, wasn’t deflecting or gaslighting you. He was laying himself bare before you, acknowledging the hurt he’d caused, the mistakes he had made.

You took a deep breath, letting the tension of the argument slowly drain from your body. It wasn’t going to be easy, and it wasn’t going to be fixed in one conversation. But maybe just maybe there was hope.

“I’m not going to lie and say everything is fine right now,” you said quietly, your voice raw, “But I’m willing to try, Hyunjin. I need time to process all of this, but… I can’t do this if you keep making me feel like I’m competing with her.”

He nodded, his expression sincere. “I won’t. I promise. I’ll never compare you to her again. You’re the one I love. You. And I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise.”

You looked at him for a long moment, the weight of the argument still lingering, but slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease. You didn’t know what the future held for the two of you, but you were willing to let him show you that he could learn from this. That he could really see you.

“Just… be better,” you whispered, the words thick with emotion. “For both of us.”

Hyunjin nodded quickly, relieved, but the air between you stayed fragile. He knew he had to prove himself to you, and he was determined to do whatever it took to make sure you never felt this way again. "I will. I swear that I will do better. I just...” “I just want you to be happy, and I'll fight for that," he replied, his voice thick with sincerity.

You didn't say anything else right away, instead letting the silence fill the gap between you. You both knew it wasn't over just yet, but it was a start. A step toward repairing what had been broken, an opportunity to find your way back together. The silence wasn’t comfortable, but it was at least a little less heavy than before.

You took a deep breath and finally let yourself relax for the first time that night, the exhaustion from the argument slowly sinking in. It was going to take time, but you hoped just hoped that this time, things would be different.

//

masterlist.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Misunderstood

It started small. Marshall wasn’t the most openly emotional guy, but you always knew when he was present—when he was *there* with you. He had his way of making you feel like the only person in the world, even in his quiet moments.

But recently, that connection felt like it had been fraying. He’d been coming home later, spending more time in his home studio, and his usual warmth had been replaced by something distant. When he did talk to you, his responses were clipped, like he was only half-listening.

You tried to push through it at first, chalking it up to stress. He was always juggling a million things at once—his music, his kids, his public image. But when he started leaving the room to take phone calls or spacing out during dinner, a nagging thought crept into your mind.

What if he was pulling away because there was someone else?

It wasn’t like him, but you’d seen it happen to other people. Relationships falling apart quietly, slowly, until one day you wake up and realize you don’t know the person lying next to you. The fear of that happening to you and Marshall clawed at your chest, and the frustration of not knowing how to fix it bubbled over.

---

It was late, and you were already in bed, staring at the ceiling. Marshall had just gotten home after another long day. He sat on the edge of the mattress, scrolling through his phone, completely silent.

“Marshall,” you said, your voice sharp in the quiet room.

He didn’t look up. “Yeah?”

You sat up, your arms crossed. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, finally glancing over his shoulder.

“You’ve been acting weird for weeks. Distant. Distracted. You barely talk to me anymore, and I feel like I’m invisible.”

He sighed, setting his phone down on the nightstand. “I’ve just been busy. That’s all.”

“Busy?” you repeated, incredulous. “You’re not just busy, Marshall. You’ve been completely checked out. What is it? What’s going on?”

“I told you—it’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me!” you snapped, your voice rising. “Is there someone else? Are you cheating on me?”

His head snapped toward you, his eyes narrowing. “Are you serious right now?”

“What else am I supposed to think?” you shot back, throwing your hands up. “You’ve been shutting me out completely, and I don’t understand why. If there’s something you’re not telling me, just say it!”

Marshall stood, pacing the room, his jaw tight. “You think I’d cheat on you? After everything we’ve been through?”

“I don’t know what to think!” you yelled, your voice breaking. “I don’t know anything anymore because you won’t talk to me!”

Marshall stopped pacing, running a hand over his face. He looked… tired. Defeated.

“It’s not what you think,” he said softly, his voice cracking. “I’m not cheating on you.”

“Then what is it?” you asked, your tone softer now.

He sat back down on the bed, his shoulders slumping. “I have to go to L.A. for a few weeks. The label booked studio time, and I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you without it turning into a fight. I know it’s part of the job, but it’s killing me, okay?”

You blinked, confused. “Why would it be killing you?”

“Because I hate being away from you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Every time I leave, it feels like I’m leaving part of myself behind. And this time, it’s worse. I don’t know why. I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own, but it’s messing with my head.”

The weight of his words hit you like a freight train. All your anger, all your suspicions melted away, replaced by a pang of guilt so sharp it made your chest ache.

“Marshall,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his hand.

He shook his head, his blue eyes clouded with emotion. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care. I didn’t mean to shut you out. I just didn’t know how to talk about it without making you upset.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you scooted closer to him. “I thought… I thought I was losing you. I’m so sorry. I should’ve asked you about it sooner instead of jumping to conclusions.”

“No,” he said, his voice firm. “You shouldn’t have had to guess what was going on. That’s on me. I should’ve talked to you.”

You sat there in silence for a moment, his words settling between you. Then you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against your hair, his voice breaking.

“Me too,” you whispered, holding onto him like you never wanted to let go.

**Rebuilding**

That night, the two of you stayed up talking. You told him how his behavior had made you feel, and he told you about the pressure he’d been under, the way the thought of leaving had been eating at him.

It wasn’t easy, but by the time the sun started to rise, you felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your chest.

When the day came for Marshall to leave, you were still sad to see him go. But this time, there was no tension, no distance between you. Just love and the promise of his return.

As he kissed you goodbye, his hands lingering on your face, he said, “I’ll call you every day. I’ll be back before you know it.”

And for the first time in weeks, you believed him.

**The Return**

Three weeks had never felt so long.

Marshall had called you every day like he promised—sometimes more than once. He sent pictures of the studio, snippets of songs he was working on, and messages that made you laugh. He was doing his best to close the distance between you, but it wasn’t the same.

The house felt emptier without him. You missed the sound of his laugh, the warmth of his arms around you, the way he’d sneak up behind you in the kitchen just to kiss your neck. You tried to stay busy, but it was impossible not to count the days until he came back.

Finally, the day arrived.

You were in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast, when you heard the front door open. Your heart leapt as you rushed into the hallway, wiping your hands on a dish towel.

And there he was.

Marshall stood in the doorway, his bag slung over one shoulder and his baseball cap pulled low over his face. He looked tired, but the second he saw you, his entire expression softened.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quiet.

You didn’t say anything. You just ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck. He let out a soft laugh as he dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I missed you more,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands cupping his face. “You look exhausted.”

He shrugged, giving you a small smile. “Long flight. But I’m good now.”

“Are you hungry? I can make you something—”

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips pressing against yours with an urgency that made your knees weak. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“All I need right now is you,” he said softly.

**The Rest of the Day**

You spent the day curled up on the couch together, talking, laughing, and just enjoying each other’s presence. Marshall told you about the recording process, the late nights in the studio, and how he’d stayed up some nights just staring at his phone, wanting to hear your voice.

“You know, it’s not the same,” he said, running his fingers through your hair as your head rested on his chest.

“What’s not?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him.

“Talking on the phone. It helps, but it’s not the same as being here with you. I hate being away from you. Every time I leave, it feels like part of me is missing.”

You reached up to touch his face, your thumb brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “You don’t have to explain, Marshall. I get it. I felt the same way.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “I promise, I’m going to try to balance things better. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pulling away again. Ever.”

You smiled, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know. And I’ll try not to jump to conclusions next time. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, his lips curving into a smile against yours.

**That Night**

As the day turned to evening, you found yourself in bed together, tangled up in each other like you couldn’t get close enough. He held you like he was afraid you might disappear, his hands tracing gentle patterns on your skin.

“I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t important to me,” he said suddenly, his voice low. “You’re the most important thing in my life. You know that, right?”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you nodded, your fingers threading through his. “I know. And I feel the same way about you.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “Good. Because I don’t ever want you to doubt that. No matter where I am, you’re always on my mind. Always.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you. As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you felt more connected to him than ever before, knowing that no matter how far apart you might be, you’d always find your way back to each other.

[r-aindr0p]

"magical boys"

*BREAKS DOWN A WALL AMD CHUCKS MINI ROLLOS TO ANYTHING IN SIGHT*

WHERE?!

*visibly shaking* I am normal about this reversal trope of magical girls. I can definetely be trusted to not squeeze this mozarrella with a bowl cut to death. *mini rollo definitely being squeezed to death*

No idea if it's three anons or one but that's really sweet ✨ pls beware depending on which guy you plan to eat some of them give food poisoning or hallucinations (thinking abt some as those small colorful rainforest frogs)

I love magical girl animes very much, grew up watching tokyo mew mew (and somehow managed to watch wedding peach all on youtube a long time ago, i did not understand the english subtitles at all lmao, rewatched it years later and loved it), so imagine my surprise when I stumbled accross the first (if you ignore saint seiya) full on magical boy anime in 2015 and ever since I wanted to draw my own, and now I have my musketeers :)))

A lot more magical boy yapping under the cut because I love this trope so much

Anime I'm talking abt is 'Binan Koukou Chikyuu bouei-bu love' btw ! It's on the parodic side but not as much shitpost-ish as 'magical girl ore' for example. It takes itself "seriously" in it's own way. (and the ending song talks about 2 characters of the show that drifted apart and how there's 3 meters only separating them but it's enough for one to miss the other and aughhh my heart I could yap about this for ages)

LOOK AT THEM (couldn't find a decent pic of the season 1 clothes, this is season 2 and the pic is still low res augh)

Like, I was ?? idk in my last year of middle school maybe when I found this ?? fantastic discovery. Pink wombat mascot with the voice of an old man gives cute bracelets to 5 guys to save the earth. They have to say "love making" and kiss their bracelet to transform, I'm crying And here's the villains of season 1 and season 2 (twins) (silver haired bowl cut annoyed guy is my favorite, what a familiar description....)

There's 3 seasons in total to this anime and season 3 has a new cast of guys but years later at the same school !

Scenario is basically the same as season 1 but with different guys and villains, but omg the otter..... I love that yellow otter so much..... (look they have magical ace and deuce ) Villains of season 3 are called "edelstein knights" or something (ince again an angry guy with ridiculous bangs considered a villain, my beloved)

Other legit magical boy I love a lot is 'Fairy Ranmaru' !! It takes itself more seriously than binan koukou, in it's own scandalous way I'd say. They went ham with the fanservice during transformations it's crazy-(especially uruu's transformation) def +16 at least They do try to talk about serious matters and feelings/emotions in general. I cant' really tell if it's well written since I'm really an easy audience, I should watch it a second time... It's a visual experience at least if you're into that kind of designs

Blue guy my beloved.... Not showing any more, you can find the transformations on yt crunchyroll literally published them

Alright one last "magical" boy/girl, it's not even exceptionnal but it's a fever dream shitpost that has a special place in my heart : 'Classicaloid' So a girl's father created humanoids with the memories of classical composers and went to get milk, leaving them all. The classicaloids eventually decide to squat at the girl's house. They have magical powers called "musik" and have a small transformation animation. So to a certain extent I do consider this a magical people anime.

Here's everyone from season 1 (untransfromed) Beethoven and Bach (maybe mozart too tbh) are the most recognizeable but good luck to guess the others :') (Liszt and Tchaikovsky are genderbent) They are all so whacky together I love them so much, bach only speaks in musical terms "andante, pianissimo etc.." Chopin is the looser of all times, Mozart is.... Mozart, and Dvorak (season 2) became a pigmy hippo for literally no reason The animation is nice but the ending song illustrations ??? dang

First two pics are from season 2 endings, they all represent an important location for the composers or something related to them (for example Chopin's is the père lachaise cemetery in paris where irl one has a tomb) Really I'm amazed by all the ending art pieces, I can't put more than 10 pics per post, I would've showed them all otherwise eeee) On the thrid pic you actually see mozart in his musik outfit ! An in one ep he even lets his hair loose ahierjh

(takt:op is absolutely in my watchlist)

If you made it this far thank you for listening to the yapping, wether it was interesting or not ! :)))

[scheherazades-vigil]

JayVik existing or not in the show was never my concern so much as who cares (and was reflected in me specifically commenting about who cares enough to hate on JayVik, obv), but I said that bc Jayce disability was lipservice and disabled characters always end up doomed AND beholden to the narrative. I barely consider S2 canon, but you do you. It's also ableist bc like 2/3 of the plot involving Viktor/them revolves around FIXING DISABILITIES?! And you're beautiful bc cancer hahahahaha kill me

Jesus let the disabled person have an opinion about disability for once. Have yours, but don't invalidate mine or you deserve yours to be

I don't think you understand queerbait in at least one of its used definitions (language, shockingly, evolves and, in this case, has done so) but gg nitpicking what queerbait is ig :/ imo it is bc the show USES the draw of (often) MLM/bi relationships to increase revenue and ABSOLUTELY intentionally plays fanservice but then swaps out at the end to be like BUT NO HOMO LOL. I may not have thought half these things so deeply if it weren't Linke doing so much bad lifting, though. I am very serious when I say that he hits hella homophobic. That was a LOT of it and thinking this jerk wrote the CaitVi sex scene as anything BUT male gaze... k

If you liked it fine? I hated it

I think sex could've come at almost any time and not been gross. This WAS gross. Don't agree, k, you go fuck your gf in a grimy jail cell like the one you spent 7 years in and call it rep, peeps, idc. I really don't believe in all this LULZMAGICINSTAHEALING power of love s2 stuff like Jinx also gets, but ig you do and that's cool

Oh I never said it wasn't queer btw, what the hell is wrong with you people? Twist my words any more and they'd make it to the Olympics

I'm actually done responding probs tho bc you weirdo ship fuckers are dumb. I say don't hate ships, hate bad writing, and here y'all come with the OMG THEY WANT THE HOT GUYS TO FUCK AND ARE LESBOPHOBIC specifically bc I didn't like a scene or y'all hating a ship

I never said I did or didn't want JayVik canonized by the fucking way, I just called it as I saw it... QB bc chicks'll dig it or whatever, God Internet randos piss me off

I'm not reading all your narrow-minded bullshit, but ftr I'm duh v pro WLW, I may as well call you queerphobic for disagreeing with me (so rancid and vapid). Can you comprehend the stupidity and bias of these baseless accusations yet? Grats on not knowing shit about me or my values tho such that you must invent them. Speaking at I can't be arsed to recall your names so RB #1 mostly ftr.

I don't know how anyone could like the ships as they are represented in the show? Genuinely? How can, I repeat, you like bad writing? Like CaitVi got dragged through the mud making Cait some war crime dictator classist rich dick in a mansion sugga momma (istg if you disagree on the first part bc she has a nice ass or Runeterra doesn't have a Geneva Convention or something...), Maddie got a rando character assassination as a twist and was only there as a junior officer CaitVi obstacle anyway, which is tragic but I digress, Jayce killed Viktor on what I assume is Red Bull and himbo energy bc what kinda takeaway was that from hexcorized AU-land? Meljay disappears out of nowhere for some reason, no resolution. Timebomb is only (shown as) canon in a waste of time AU episode you couldn't even get away with in English 101, like, are y'all fr?

Fighting me so hard for legit no reason isn't the hot take you think it is but go off or whatever, see I, too, can be a cool kid

But fr can't we just unite in our disappointment in S2 instead of whatever the fuck this is. Y'all are why we can't have nice writing

At least I'm caring less about you as time passes but. The writing, bro...

Wait, why are people saying JayVik is this evil giant fanservice thing? If anything it was stupid queerbait! I like the ship but I felt like the whole thing was a big stupid mush of poor writing, outright ableism, and altogether just slop that made no sense. I didn't care about the alleged shipping, like who the hell would even NOTICE or care at that point? Like the writing belongs in the trash so I couldn't care less, and I'll just go to AO3, thanks.

The mage should've been Ryze. Or anything else.

Conversely, Vi going down on her abuser (and murderer of her people)... I literally don't know what to think and have decided for my sanity not to care. I assume it's male gaze fetishism, which is why there's no gay or bi ships. Men can't take that. Too yucky for them.

Meh sorry. I got grossed out by the weird accusations. Like who cares how many ships there are or who ships them? Are ship wars literally more important to you than the show?

[quietlyblooms]

tonight i’m resting and keeping to myself bc i just need a minute, but tomorrow i think i’ll tinker with my rules and tidy up this blog overall. i’ve been thinking about a few things that have likely contributed to me feeling overwhelmed here, and i need to sit down and drop old drafts/asks, clean up my followers list, and set a lil boundary. hopefully after i do, i can get back to writing and bugging y’all at a normal pace 💜

[beneaththebloodylake]

actually i hate when people take ace attorney out of the context it was made in. like im just as clueless about the details as anyone else, and its true its heavily fictionalised and mostly not a really serious representation of anything, but at least akcnowledge that that context exists when you talk about it. cause otherwise its just stupid, like everything youre saying is just random words and nothing actually to do with the series

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[iamnotlookingidonotseeit]

when you feel like you're fine in isolation but as soon as you interact with nice people who seem to like you you're like oh maybe I'm not perfectly well adjusted actually

[drchucktingle]

how are you human?

so many interesting comments and thoughts on my post saying buds should consider not coming up to strangers in marginalized groups and saying 'how are you a real person that actually exists?'. i will point out this: despite my VERY gentle tone a few buds said i was having a 'meltdown' for even mentioning it

others said i was being too serious for someone who is ‘not a real person’. so if you would any more evidence of what it is like to be a buckaroo like myself there it is. every day, autistic folks who may seem ‘weird’ are bombarded with messages and comments and implications that they are fundamentally not human beings

sometimes it is outright and blatant like the comments on last post saying ‘well why are you getting mad? you are not even real’ and sometimes it is in the very subtle ways that folks use language when they talk to us. there is huge difference between ‘how do you exist?’ and ‘i am glad you exist.’

anyway, something that i think many people who have not lived this experience dont seem to understand is i KNOW the poster who said ‘how are you a real person that actually exists’ probably meant it as a compliment. that is THE POINT of why i am taking a moment out of my trot to gently and anonymously let them know how it might feel to be on other end of something like this as a queer or autistic or otherwise marginalized buckaroo. it is obviously not their intent to actually hurt someone, so i am letting them know

maybe because queerness and autism are not physically apparent it is hard to explain, but imagine going up to very tall or very short person and saying ‘cant BELIEVE you are real’ as a compliment. not a great way to treat others. on my original post, an indigenous author chimed in with their own experience and feelings similar to my own. a woman who said she was very tall told her story. point is, while i do not have their experience, what i am saying has a universal thread for 'othered' folks

point is: i UNDERSTAND there is this sort of exaggerated or ironic (or maybe even sometimes very literal) language around fandom to say things like ‘how are you a human?’ to creators, but since it is not your intent to hurt, i think you might want to know how that feels to marginalized buckaroos sometimes.

obviously you can say anything you want. i do not hold it against you. also, if you think ‘oh no, did i say something like this to chuck at a convention? i am so embarrassed' then DO NOT WORRY i promise you buckaroo you are just fine. i present myself in a way that is unusual by definition, so i have pretty thick skin about this type of thing and a lot of patience. MANY buds start off thinking i am ‘a joke’ and then become fans over time and i am glad to trot beside them and prove love is real.

however there are other autistic or queer or marginalized buckaroos with smaller platforms who hear this just as much as me, so i think it is important to say it loudly and maybe together we can work on making a very slight shift in the way we speak to the ‘others’ in our lives

we do not NEED to let subtle dehumanization slip into our language. in some cases it has been called ‘micro aggressions’ but i think buds dont often consider what that means for COMPLIMENTS. ultimately, telling marginalized people YOU ARE SO AMAZING YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY EXIST may seem very fun and silly on the surface and for some folks it probably feels that way, but for others it can feel like a reminder of the broader doubt about their humanity. you can just say ‘YOU ARE AMAZING’ without the reminder of the many times autistic or queer or marginalized folks are told in a very serious and pointed way (like comments on the last post) ‘YOU ARE SO WEIRD THAT I HAVE DECIDED YOU ARE NOT REAL’

buckaroos can take this information and apply it to their interactions, or they can ignore it, that is totally fine. we are all trotting our own trots and proving love in our own way and thats okay bud, HOWEVER i feel like it is important to at least let folks know, even if that means getting told i am having a ‘meltdown’. i think it is important to have complex or difficult conversations if it will prove a little more love in the long run. THANK YOU FOR READING BUCKAROOS. i am honored to trot forward with you can tackle this kind of thing with you, and honored you buckaroos have created such an amazing space with me to pull apart these kind of feelings. THIS IS PROOF THAT LOVE IS REAL LETS TROT

[idiopathicsmile]

School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy

So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)

What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”

Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.

The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.

Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!

So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.

I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.

A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.

‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.

Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.

Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.

Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.

“It didn’t have any words,” she said.

(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)

Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.

I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.

[sweetpupii]

Hi! Do you take requests?

If so, I think a fic bases on this excerpt:

"she can't have her parents walking in again. poor cassandra…finding your daughter with her whole face buried in between a girl's thighs is not the most ideal situation"

of your cailtyn story would be phenomenal 🙏

If you don't, feel free to ignore this! :)

let's start by saying caitlyn knows how to eat pussy and loves doing it :3 babe could have it for breakfast, lunch, dinner and even dessert. she wouldn't call herself an expert per se, but she's quite proud of her talent.

sure, receiving it feels good—but what's better than knowing you're making a girl cum with just your mouth? to cait, absolutely nothing. the moans, the hair-pulling, the thighs clenching against her head ♡ ugh chef's kiss.

( she came untouched a few times from it but you did not hear it from me ok? )

it's usually one the first things she does when you successfully sneak into her room. like a reward for getting through massive place she calls home without anyone noticing.

your back against the bed and legs immediately spread to expose the sight she absolutely adores. god, she could just stare at it forever and it'd still have the same effect in between her own legs. new panties are needed.

she doesn't dive in face-first like an animal the second your clothes are off, even if she does feel like a starved woman. she starts by slowly kissing your thighs and caressing any bit of skin she can, hand sneaking up your abdomen and ribs to massage your breasts a little—don't mind it.

“should I continue?” cocky because she already knows the answer is a breathy ‘yes, please’.

oh and she gets way more cocky once she finally starts working on you, soft and slow stripes and twirls with her tongue. nothing fancy yet; she wants to tease a little more.

the second your hips start bucking into her mouth though? girl, grab onto something because she takes the signs IMMEDIATELY.

legs propped up on her shoulder while her hands hold your hips down to keep control of them. the slurping sounds are almost pornographic with how sloppy she's being. no whine coming from you is gonna make her stop any time soon. she's enjoying it waaaay to much already.

if she's feeling nice she will add a finger or two while sucking ๋࣭⭑ curling them just right inside you, not in-and-out like crazy. her tongue’s already lapping at you pretty fast so no need to overwhelm you…yet.

she wishes you would look down at her for a sec to see that pretty expression better, but she also understands it's her own fault that your head is thrown back against the bed, clenching around her fingers while pulling at her hair. what a curse to be so good at pleasing girls.

she knew speeding up her movements wasn't a smart thing to do so late at night as soon as the loud whine that escaped your lips reached her ears. obviously louder than the previous ones.

the heavy thump on the door when it opened proved her right.

“caitlyn.”

of course it had to be her mother out of all people.

cassandra's eyebrows furrowed as she looked away with a small huff, trying to erase the sight from her mind by blinking and observing every detail on the window. she thought caitlyn was trying to sneak out and get involved with stuff she shouldn't like she had done in the past with serious cases or something, not this!

“It is 3 am; please take your… friend out of here.” a dismissive wave of her hand showed that there wasn't much room for arguing—none really because she's already out the door with a low mumble to herself before her daughter could say anything. tomorrow's talk is gonna be awful, that's for sure.

“just keep quiet some more, then you can go home, alright?” the blue haired girl softly whispered, leaning up and kissing the soft skin on your shoulder to reassure that you're not leaving until you get a few well deserved orgasms, her fingers already going back to rubbing small circles.

she's not gonna let a pretty girl leave her bedroom unsatisfied even if it means getting caught again.

masterlist

[hoshifighting]

Hello!!!

I’ve literally been eating up you work, everything you put out is 10/10

I’m curious to know your thoughts on this; how would svt react to their s/o saying i love you for the first time during sex? Like they’re just so lost in pleasure that it slips out and their s/o doesn’t even realize

seventeen reaction; you saying i love you for the first time, during sex

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, does not necessarily mention established relationships.

seungcheol's hips grind against yours, his hands gripping your thighs with a bruising force. you're not even thinking when it slips out, a breathless “i love you” falling from your lips. his movements stop abruptly, eyes wide as he looks down at you, stunned. “did you just said…?” he trails off, not quite sure how to proceed. you freeze too, “s-say what?” you stammer, trying to backpedal. but he cuts you off with a soft grunt, resuming his movements. “nothing, baby,” he whispers, “just… keep going.” he says, his voice a low rumble, as he focuses back on the rhythm, clearly trying to push the words out of his mind for now. but his heart melting, because he loves you more :(

jeonghan’s reaction is quiet. his pace doesn’t falter, but his eyes meet yours, and there’s a knowing look in them. it’s like he’s waiting for you to realize what you just said. he doesn’t say anything, but the slight smirk on his lips tells you he heard every word. later, you know he’ll bring it up, but for now, he seems content, almost smug, as if pleased that he’s drawn such a confession out of you.

joshua pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you meant what you said. you want to hide yourself, but he sharpens his thrust, making you gasp. “say. it. again.” he growls. then he adds another sharp thrust, and you melt, “i love you, joshua.” you repeat, eyes shut. he smiles, his ego boosting like a rocket.

junhui doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at you like he’s trying to commit this moment to memory. “you’re serious?” he finally asks. you don’t fully understand his reaction, just nodding absently. he exhales sharply, a shaky breath running out of him as he leans down to kiss you. “you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to hear that,” he murmurs against your lips.

soonyoung’s stops mid-thrust, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “am i fucking you that good?” he asks, a naughty smirk twitching at his lips. you feel your face heat up, embarrassed by your slip. you try to brush it off, to pretend it didn’t happen, but he’s not having it. “no, no, i want to hear it again.” he waits, hovering above you, until you mutter the words again. only then does he resume, his thrusts harder, more intense, as if to prove a point. “i knew you couldn’t resist me.”

wonwoo’s reaction is instant. his breath hitches, and his hips stutter for a moment. “fuck…” he whispers, burying his face in your shoulder. the words seem to have a strong effect on him, and you can feel him trembling slightly. it’s like those three words have broken through his soul. his movements become more inconsistent, and you can tell he’s close. the way he holds you, clinging to you, you know he’s been affected deeply. he cums shortly after, burying himself deep inside you. “didn’t think you’d be confessing your love like this.”

jihoon’s sharp ears don’t miss a thing. you see his eyes widen, a slight flush creeping up his neck. he doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he’s heard you loud and clear. there’s a moment of tension, and you can feel him almost pull back, as if to process what you just said. “we'll talk about it later” he says. this was enough to make you overthink here and there. but he doubles down, he’s determined to bring you back to the moment, to keep you from getting lost in your own thoughts. and it works. you’re soon too dazzled by his cock blessing your walls to think about anything else.

minghao’s answer is more composed. “you’re not thinking straight,” he says, his voice firm. he slows down, making you look into his eyes. “say it again, but mean it.” his tone is serious, almost challenging. you swallow, the words catching in your throat. but the power of his stare makes it impossible to lie. you repeat the words, this time with clarity, and he nods, pleased. “good,” he mumbles, before continuing his pace, more controlled, more purposeful.

mingyu’s freezes for a second, and you can see the surprise in his eyes. but then he quickly recovers, pretending like it didn’t happen. “i didn’t hear anything,” he says with a grin, continuing his movements. you can feel the slight tension in his body, but he doesn’t bring it up. he’s clearly trying to keep things light, to not make a big deal out of it. but you know he heard you. and from the way he’s moving, the intensity in his stare, you can tell it’s on his mind. his lips glued in a line so he can hold the 'i love you more' for later.

seokmin’s response is immediate. “repeat it,” he demands, he pushes his cock, deeper, his eyes locked onto yours. “say it,” he insists, his pace relentless. you can barely form the words, but you manage to stutter out another “i love you.” everytime you say it, he thrusts harder, until you’re a crying mess beneath him, he grins down at you, clearly enjoying the power he has over you at this moment.

seungkwan’s ears are blushed, but he hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars, making you gasp. “uh? what? i didn’t hear you. can you repeat it?” he teases, you feel your face flush, but there’s no way you’re getting out of this. he slows down, waiting for you to repeat the words. and you do, reluctantly. he grins, satisfied, and resumes his pace.

vernon is the gentleman. “you… love me?” he trails off. before you can even think about apologizing, he’s kissing you, his lips soft but insistent. “don’t be sorry,” he murmurs against your lips, his pace never faltering. he’s reassuring, comforting, as if he’s trying to tell you that it’s okay, that he’s not going anywhere. it’s like he’s telling you that he’s there for you, that he understands. and mainly... that he loves you too.

chan’s smile shines to the point of blindness “are you confessing to me?” he asks. you feel your face heat up, embarrassed by your slip. he chuckles, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “that’s what i’m hearing,” he continues, a grin spreading across his face. you try to brush it off, to pretend it didn’t happen, but he’s not letting it go.

[woso-dreamzzz]

New Girlfriend III

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle x Teen!Reader

Summary: You make a game

When Lucy cracks open your door, you're as you always are.

You're hunched over your computer, clicking around some game level aimlessly with your tongue sticking out in concentration.

Your mice, like they always are when you're in the room, are running riot in their pen.

Outside of their cage and on the floor, you've set up a little pen for them to roam around and play in.

Lara and Zelda are wrestling like always as Clementine tries to work through the enrichment puzzle full of food. Ezio is asleep, flopped over on your shoulder as you study whatever new game you've found.

"You ready for dinner?"

Now that it's gotten colder, you've managed to get even moodier than before and even more of a shut in.

"One sec," You say. You click around the game level a bit more before pulling up a separate tab to type a long string of something Lucy can't even hope to understand. "Alright, I'm done. What's up?"

Lucy rolls her eyes fondly. "Dinner. Now. Ona cooked."

You push your chair out from your desk and stretch, your back cracking from the long hours you've spent hunched over.

You put the mice back into the cage, each of them getting a quick snuggle and kiss before you bolt it shut.

"Is it good food?" You ask as you go down the stairs.

"It's better than your mum makes!" Ona calls out and you grin.

"Yeah, but anything's better than Mum's cooking!"

Lucy grumbles, shaking her head. "One nice meal is all I ask. One meal where I don't get horrifically bullied!"

"We don't bully you," You say," It's character building!"

You and Ona laugh and Lucy just rolls her eyes. Sometimes, you think she would prefer if it went back to what it was like when you were first adapting to Ona.

"Oh," She says," I sent you those audio files you wanted."

"Thanks."

Lucy frowns. "She's been making you do those too?"

"Yeah, it's for a school project, right?"

You nod. "Uh-huh. It's for programming."

"I know I shouldn't have let you sign up for that," She says," It's all you ever do. I think you're losing sleep over it."

"You'll like it," You declare," What I'm working on. I promise."

"I'm sure that I will but it doesn't mean I think you're sleeping well. Put it down for once, that's all I'm saying."

You roll your eyes.

Lucy's always like that about your programming. Sometimes she lays asleep at gone three in the morning and can still hear you typing away on your computer for hours on end.

You return to your room after dinner ends and briefly come out to show Ona what you're working on while also denying Lucy the same opportunity.

"You've love it," Ona assures her at training the next day.

"Love what?" Keira asks," Oh, y/n's game? Yeah, you'll love it, Luce."

"Am I the only one that hasn't seen it?!" She demands, glancing around the room at people who are trying to not make eye contact with her. "Seriously? Raise your hand if you've seen it?"

Slowly, everyone raises their hand.

"This is so unfair!"

When you first got given the project, Lucy had been the first person to be clued into your plans. You showed her all your design sketches and all your ideas as you jumped between them.

At one point, one of your bedroom walls had been covered in concept designs and you would stand in front of it and point out certain aspects you liked and things you didn't think were quite perfect yet.

Lucu had been integral to your thought process and then all of a sudden she was shut out. You'd ask her to record voice lines or demonstrate doing something but you'd never explain why or what it was for.

You all but unplugged your computer when she came in unexpectedly and tried to get a sneak peak.

"Alright," Lucy says when she gets home to see you and Ona giggling on the sofa together," I've had enough. Show me your project."

You sit upright immediately, eyes wide.

"No-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer. I've had enough of the secrets."

She's serious. You can tell by the clench in her jaw and the way her arms are crossed over her chest.

Lucy's stubborn but you inherited from her so you're stubborn too.

Your cross your arms in the same way as you stand. "No! It's not finished! You can see it when you're finished!"

"Hey," Ona intervenes before the argument can truly get heated. Her hand rests on your shoulder. "It's okay. Just show her."

"I can't! It's not ready!"

"Come on," Ona says," Show her."

You glance at your Mum, who is staring at you with that same stern look and crossed arms as the one that she came in with.

"Fine. Give me a sec."

Lucy sits on the sofa as Ona hooks up a laptop to the tv.

You come back in with a disc and nervously put it into the dvd slot.

Lucy doesn't know what to say when the opening credits appear.

'Lucy Bronze: The Game' with a little pixel version of her holding the Champion's League trophy up on her head.

"We were meant to make a game about a hero," You say," And you're my hero."

[hellobykittys]

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 ✦ 𝐋𝐇⁴⁴

SUMMARY: Upon discovering you’re pregnant with your boyfriend’s child, you find yourself spiraling into a wave of insecurities, fearing his potential negative reaction and the impact it could have on your relationship. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. PAIRING: Lewis Hamilton x Reader! Girlfriend. WARNING: Established relationship; mild angst; unplanned pregnancy. WC: 2.8k

MASTERLIST | THE (IM)PERFECT PLAN SERIE

It was the second time that day you found yourself leaning over the toilet, your stomach churning relentlessly. Breakfast and the light snack you’d had earlier—both meant to be simple—had already made their way there, and with each passing moment, your suspicions grew harder to ignore. Yet, you stubbornly refused to acknowledge what was right in front of you.

Two weeks had passed since your period was supposed to start, something completely out of the ordinary for you. Your cycle was always regular. In its place came the nausea and constant vomiting.

You didn’t know what to do. The thought of taking a test was too terrifying. It felt easier to pretend this was just a passing illness. After all, how could you possibly be pregnant? You and Lewis were always careful, taking every precaution.

“You need to take a test,” your friend Anne said as she held your hair back, preventing the mess from worsening.

“Anne, I don’t know if I want to know the answer.” You spoke between breaths, rising to rinse your mouth at the sink.

“Eventually, you’ll have to face it,” she said gently, her hand brushing over your back in a gesture of comfort. “If it’s true, you’re going to have to tell him.”

“I don’t even know if he wants to be with me, let alone a child. He’s going to hate this news.” Your tired, worried eyes stared back at you in the mirror. “I don’t know what to do.”

“He won’t hate it. He loves you, and I’m sure he’ll love having a child with you,” Anne said, trying to ease your anxiety. “Y/N, don’t believe what people say online. They just want to bring you down.”

“You don’t understand.” You turned to her, your eyes full of doubt. “We’ve never talked about it—about starting a family. Whenever the subject comes up, he changes it. At first, I thought it was because we’d only been together a short while, but now… I think he genuinely doesn’t want anything more serious.”

“But you’ve been together for two years! How could he not want something more serious?”

“He was with Nicole for seven years, and that wasn’t enough for him to marry her.” You lowered your head, your chest tightening. “Deep down, I think the media’s right. He probably just wants to stay free until the last day of his life. His whole world revolves around Formula 1. Family isn’t part of his plans. Only the eighth title matters.”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. The weight of your words felt unbearable, but you couldn’t stop thinking them. The fear that this was all a mistake, that Lewis simply wasn’t ready for more, consumed you.

Anne noticed your distress and stepped closer, her hand resting on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I know it seems hard right now, but you can’t make these decisions on your own. You have to talk to him. He deserves to know, and you deserve to hear what he has to say.”

You turned to face her, your expression reflecting the emotional storm you were caught in. “And if he doesn’t want it? If he tells me he’s not ready, that what we have isn’t enough? What am I supposed to do with this baby? With this… life?”

“Then you’ll deal with it in your own way. This isn’t about what he wants—it’s about what you want, what you need. He may be the person you love, but don’t forget who you are and what you deserve.”

Anne’s words echoed in your mind, but the truth still felt distant, shrouded in uncertainty. It felt like you were standing at a crossroads with your life taking a direction you’d never planned for. Lewis, with his fast-paced existence of racing, titles, and adrenaline, seemed worlds apart from your quiet longing for stability—perhaps even a family. Something you weren’t even sure he shared.

In the end, you knew you couldn’t avoid reality any longer. The test needed to be done. Procrastination wasn’t an option anymore. The fear was overwhelming, but the uncertainty hurt worse. And, above all, the result would only be the beginning. The real challenge would be telling Lewis.

“Will you do this with me?” Your voice came out softer than expected, almost a whisper filled with vulnerability. You looked at Anne, searching her expression for a strength you felt you’d lost. “I mean, will you buy the test and wait for the result with me?”

Anne smiled reassuringly, taking your hand in hers with a firm grip. “Of course. And if you prefer, we can do this at my apartment. No rush, no pressure.”

You shook your head in refusal. “I think it’s better to do it here. He’s not coming back today… probably not until tomorrow night. Maybe even later.” The emptiness of the house felt less oppressive when you spoke aloud, but the apprehension was still palpable. “I just need the courage to go to the pharmacy.”

Anne squeezed your hand, her eyes full of understanding. “You don’t have to do this alone. Let’s go together. Let’s get this over with.”

The trip to the pharmacy was quick, but each step felt like a monumental challenge. The way back home seemed even longer, with the weight of the small package in your bag growing heavier by the second. Back at the apartment, you locked yourself in the bathroom while Anne waited outside, offering encouraging words that barely penetrated the storm in your mind.

You held the test in trembling hands, your eyes scanning the instructions like they were an impossible puzzle. Time seemed to freeze as you waited for the result, the silence broken only by the relentless pounding of your heart.

When you finally looked at the small display, reality crashed over you like a tidal wave. Positive.

Your breath caught in your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the lines that confirmed what you already suspected. Silent tears began to stream down your face as a flood of emotions—fear, anguish, and an inexplicable love for the new life now connected to you—washed over you.

“Well?” Anne’s soft, hesitant voice called from the other side.

You opened the door, holding the test in your trembling hand. Anne’s expression softened at the sight of your tears. She said nothing, simply pulling you into a tight embrace.

“What now?” you asked quietly, your voice laden with uncertainty.

Anne pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression calm but firm. “Now you take a deep breath, Y/N. Then, you tell him. No matter the fear, no matter the doubts. He deserves to know, and you deserve to be heard.”

You nodded slowly, but the lump in your throat remained. Her words were logical, exactly what you needed to hear, but the fear still loomed, beating loudly in your chest. How would you tell Lewis? How would you find the words that would change both your lives forever?

“Anne…” Your voice came out shaky, barely a whisper, as you wrapped your arms around her tightly, searching for any fragment of comfort. “I’m so scared. What if he… what if he doesn’t want this baby?”

Anne sighed, her hand gently rubbing your back with patience. “Y/N, even if he doesn’t, which I honestly find hard to believe, you’ll move forward. You’re stronger than you think.” She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her gaze full of conviction. “If you want to have this baby, that’s all that matters. We’ll take care of it. I won’t leave you alone, ever.”

You closed your eyes, trying to absorb her words, but the weight of the situation still felt unbearable. “But what if he leaves me, Anne? What if he thinks this was a mistake? That I was careless?”

Anne cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look at her. “He loves you. And even if the idea scares him at first, he’s a good man, Y/N. But more than anything, you need to remember that his love isn’t the only thing that matters here. What do you feel? What do you want? That matters, too.”

Her question hung in the air, echoing in your mind as you tried to find an answer. Deep down, you knew what you wanted. You loved Lewis with all your heart, and despite the fear consuming you, you already felt an inexplicable love for the life growing inside you. But bridging those two feelings felt impossible.

As you stared at the positive test sitting on the bedside table, your heart pounded relentlessly, racing with uncertainty. That tiny object seemed to carry the weight of all your doubts and fears. You knew you couldn’t put off talking to Lewis forever, but the thought of confronting him was paralyzing. Each passing second only tightened the knot in your throat.

He was supposed to return the following morning, giving you one night to organize your thoughts, find the right words, and somehow gather the courage that felt so far away. But now, as the reality began to settle in, you decided to push it aside for a while. You needed to distract yourself, to focus on taking care of yourself—and the baby you now carried.

In the kitchen, you started preparing something simple to eat. The thought of being responsible for another life made every small action feel significant. You couldn’t ignore your health or choices anymore. Everything you did was for two now. And though the anxiety still throbbed in your mind, there was a small, strange comfort in that realization.

You were slicing fruit when the sound of the front door opening suddenly broke the silence of the house. Your heart nearly stopped for a moment. He wasn’t supposed to be back until the next morning.

“Y/N?” Lewis’s voice echoed from the living room, heavy with exhaustion and surprise.

You turned to see him standing in the hallway, still holding his travel bag. He was dressed casually in a black jacket and his signature travel cap. His eyes locked on you, then shifted to the plate of fruit on the counter before softening into a smile.

“I decided to come back early. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He approached, leaving the bag by the wall to pull you into a warm hug. The heat of his body against yours brought immediate comfort—but also a new weight.

You weren’t ready. Not yet. But the moment seemed to have chosen him—or fate had.

“Are you okay?” Lewis asked, pulling back just enough to study your face. His expression was laced with concern.

“I’m… I’m fine. Just tired.” Your voice came out low, but you knew he would sense something was off. Lewis always did.

His brows furrowed slightly as he tilted his head, his gaze probing. “You sure? You seem a little distant.”

With him standing there, just a few steps away, the idea of telling him felt even more daunting. Fear wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing tighter and tighter. Fear that the news could change everything between you, fear that the love you shared wouldn’t be enough to face what was coming. So, for at least one more night, you decided to delay. Tomorrow would be the right time. Tonight, you just wanted to savor your last moment of peace with him—if everything changed afterward.

But the memory of the test sitting on the bedside table sent a fresh wave of panic through you. If Lewis went into the bedroom now, he’d see it. There was no way to hide it in time.

“Nothing’s wrong, love.” You forced a smile, leaning up to kiss him, his lips still warm from the chill outside. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll take your bag and be right back, okay?”

Before you could grab his bag, Lewis held onto it firmly, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to do that. I can carry my own bag.” He smiled, the kind of smile that always made your heart flutter, and slung the strap back over his shoulder. “I’ll shower and then we can pick a movie, yeah?”

“No, seriously, let me.” You insisted, your voice slightly too quick. “You must be exhausted. Just relax, I’ll handle it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing your unease, but didn’t argue further. “Y/N, I’m not made of glass. I can carry my own luggage.”

Without another word, you followed him to the bedroom, your heart racing with every step. Lewis placed his bag by the wardrobe but lingered, his gaze drifting back to you.

“You’re acting weird,” he commented with a small smile, though he didn’t press further. “I’ll take a quick shower and be back. Pick us a good movie.”

As soon as he entered the bathroom and the door closed, you let out the breath you had been holding and quickly made your way to the bedside table. With swift movements, you grabbed the test and hid it in the deepest drawer, pushing it down beneath a few papers. When you finished, the relief was immediate, but brief.

You left the room and returned to the kitchen, trying to distract yourself with anything else. You prepared a bowl of fruit and placed it on the counter, but your mind couldn’t help but drift back to the inevitable moment that was coming.

Minutes later, sensing something was off with Lewis’s delay, you decided to return to the bedroom. When you opened the door, your heart nearly stopped at the sight before you. Lewis was sitting on the bed, his eyes fixed on the pregnancy test he was holding in his hand.

“Lewis…” your voice came out weak, barely a whisper.

He looked up, and for a moment, you couldn’t read his expression. It wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t relief either. It was something in between—confusion, perhaps.

“How long have you known?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

The question hit you like a punch. “What? Lewis, I—”

“Were you hiding this from me?” He stood up, his brow furrowed in a mix of frustration and hurt. “Did you think you could handle this alone?”

“I didn’t… I just found out!” you retorted, feeling your eyes well up. “I didn’t even have time to think, to process. I was going to tell you, Lewis!”

But he didn’t seem to hear you. He ran his hands through his hair, clearly trying to organize his thoughts.

“I thought we were a couple, Y/N. That we trusted each other.”

Those words hit you cruelly, a blow to your vulnerability. “Lewis, I wasn’t hiding anything! I just… I didn’t have the courage to take the test until today. I needed a moment. A second to process what was happening to me.”

He paused, studying your face, his dark eyes softening as his anger dissolved into understanding. Finally, he shook his head, the weight of the tension lifting from his shoulders.

“When were you planning on telling me?” he asked, his voice quieter, but still firm.

“I was going to tell you tomorrow,” you rushed to explain, almost pleading for him to believe you. “I just… I didn’t know how to do it. Lewis, please, believe me.”

His expression changed completely. Without saying another word, he walked over and pulled you into a tight hug. The warmth of his body was comforting, but what struck you the most was the soft sound of a sob. He was crying.

“You should’ve told me as soon as you suspected,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I wanted to be here with you when you took the test.”

“Are… are you happy?” you asked hesitantly, the words coming out in a whisper full of doubt.

He pulled back slightly, cradling your face in his big, warm hands. A smile broke through the tears streaming down his face.

“Of course I’m happy, my love.” His voice was low, but full of conviction. “This baby is a piece of our love. How could I not be happy?”

You collapsed into his arms, your head resting on his strong chest as tears flowed freely down your face. The relief and love you felt in that moment were overwhelming.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” you confessed through sobs. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t want this baby… that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

He held you even tighter, impossibly so, and kissed the top of your head, lingering in the gesture.

“I would never do that, Y/N. Never.” He sighed, his voice thick with emotion. “You mean everything to me. And now, we’re going to be a family. I just wish I’d been there with you from the start.”

His words were a balm, soothing the storms that had built in your heart over the past few weeks.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, still hidden against his chest.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he replied, gently stroking your hair. “We’re both learning. But now that I know… I promise you’ll never face any of this alone again.”

You stayed like that for long minutes, not needing any more words. The moment was just for the two of you, and nothing seemed more important than the future you were beginning to build together.

[grandline-fics]

Shifting Focus

DESCRIPTION: The moment they began to see you differently

WARNINGS: None

CHARACTERS: Shanks, Kid, Smoker | Sanji, Law

WORDS: 2,850

A/N: Another part of this in honour of reaching 500 followers. This was my first time writing for Smoker so here's hoping you all enjoy!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

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

SHANKS

Everyone knew Shanks was a flirt, a laidback charmer who always had a smile and a wink at the ready for the next pretty face he came across. No-one was meant to really take it seriously, to see anything that happened to be more than what it was, a fleeting moment of enjoyment for both sides. Serious feelings never truly came into play, it was easier that way given that he was always on the move. To let anyone believe he was the settling down type would have been cruel and he didn’t find any enjoyment in hurting people needlessly, unless they were his enemy of course. Everyone in the crew were more than used to his mannerisms, yourself included. You could understand his worldview on the matter however you never entertained him when he chose to flirt with you. Something that he finally started to notice and when he did, he couldn’t let it go. 

“Do I repulse you?” He asked suddenly one evening causing you to choke on your coffee. Your body tensed and you forced the liquid down your throat, wincing at the painful burn it caused and sharp tightness in your throat. You’d needed it to stay awake for your night shift but after that, you set the mostly untouched mug aside. Looking to your side you saw your captain staring at you intently, a small pout playing at his lips making you believe he was picking his words carefully to seem like he was keeping the conversation light. However underneath the joking you could tell there was a real question there. 

“If you repulsed me Cap, I wouldn’t have joined your crew, now would I?” You answered, looking back down to the sea chart in your hands, needing to keep track of any notable features coming into view. “What is it you really want to ask me?”

“I’ve noticed something about you.” Shanks began, scowling when you looked away from him to continue your work. You were always so task-oriented and levelheaded that even when you were joking with another member of the crew, you were still focused on what was needed to be done. Finally you looked up at Shanks again, eyebrows raised slightly to invite him to keep talking. “You don’t flirt back.” 

For a moment you had to think about what Shanks was getting at but finally you let out a laugh and lightly rolled your eyes. So he was in that kind of mood today. For a moment he almost had you by making you believe he was asking you a semi-serious question. Still smiling in amusement you shook your head and turned to go inside when a wind started to pick up. If you lost the charts in your hand it wouldn’t have been good. What you weren’t expecting was Shanks to follow you, with a sigh you settled down at your desk and sat back to stare at your captain who clearly wasn’t finished with this joke and you weren’t going to get any peace until you indulged him. “Am I being reprimanded for my lack of flirtation towards you, Cap? I’m surprised it’s affected you so much given how you’re never without company.”

“You flirt with the others on board.” Shanks pointed out, not really knowing why it was getting to him so much. Ever since he’d realised you’d joke around and tease the others on board but not him, it just kept gnawing at him. Shanks knew he shouldn’t get so irritated by it all but he just couldn’t help himself. He stepped closer until he was leaning of the edge of your desk, staring down at your calm expression. “So why not me?”

“I flirt with the others because it’s not serious and they know that.” You shrugged lightly, leaning back to regard your captain, a smile slowly pulling at your lips. “You, however are a different story, Cap.” With a breathy sigh you rose from your seat and Shanks’ earlier position meant you were now standing mere inches away from him, not quite touching but close enough for the warmth of your body to radiate into his. “If I gave in and flirted with you…I don’t think I’d be able to stop it as just a joke. I don’t have the same self-control that you do.” You murmured, tilting your head up slightly so your breath could softly dance against his skin. Satisfied that that should be enough for your Captain’s need for the joke to end you took a step back and grinned before sitting down at your desk. 

With your presence no longer engulfing his, Shanks blinked and immediately wanted more. More of that rush, that spark, more of you. However fate had other plans when Lucky Roux called for him and he had to do his duties as the Captain. Sharply letting out a huff of annoyance, Shanks reluctantly left your side to head onto the deck. When he reached the doorway, he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder and see your attention already drawn back to your work. Yeah, this was far from over.  

KID

There was never a dull moment on the Victoria Punk. Even on the calm days at sea, the heavy steps of the Captain and the usual tone of conversation was carried at a volume louder than some other ships were used to. But that was what you liked about it. It was only when the ship was deathly quiet outside of sleeping hours that any of you felt the need to worry. The seas were calm and laughter surrounded you all as you sat in the living quarters with plenty of drink to see you all through to morning if you wanted. 

Currently you were all playing a game with the bounty posters you’d all seemed to collect. It was a simple enough form of ‘Kiss, Marry, Kill’ by selecting three posters from the pile however each person that had to answer ended up getting drawn into a fierce debate about their answers. If you didn’t want to answer on your turn however, you had to drink. It was an empty punishment since all of you were drinking happily regardless. 

“Look I stand by my answer okay?!” Wire shouted, unable to keep the grin from his face knowing the argument was in good spirits. “I had the worst draw out of them all so far, you guys have been getting it easy.”

“Just hurry up and pick my three okay?” You grinned, sitting up from your lounged position to get a better look for your turn. Wire reached over to the pile of posters lying face down on the table and picked three at random, slowly flipping them over to reveal Blackbeard, Franky, and Bartolomelo. Grinning you sat back down into your previous position. “Kiss Bartolomelo, Marry Franky, Kill Blackbeard. Easy.”

“Not that I’d argue with the decisions, you just made up your mind so quickly…” Killer noted, a grin in his voice as his face remained hidden by his mask. You rolled your eyes and grinned. 

“Nothing to think about, Blackbeard is…ugh” you suppressed a shudder at the mere thought of the Emperor. “Franky is dependable and skilled, and fun from what we saw when we allied with them so marrying him wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“You didn’t think about Bartolomelo as marriage material?” Kid asked with a grin and you laughed up at your Captain who you’d been leaning against for a majority of the night. 

“No way, he’s a major Strawhat fanboy. I’d be competing against that entire crew for his attention, sadly we just weren’t meant to be.”

“Yeah, you’re real heartbroken about it I see.” Kid laughed along with you and the others. The game continued for another while, some of the crew stopping from being too drunk to stay awake while others began to head for their quarters. Those remaining all agreed this would be the last round and it meant you were to deal out three posters for Kid. 

You were still far too comfortable lounging against your Captain so you quickly reached over, fumbling you flipped over the first three you could get your hands on and flopped back before even seeing who he had to choose from. From the sound of the stifled laughter you could tell his options were going to be good. With an anticipated grin you turned on your side and pushed yourself up with your elbow only to become surprised to see your bounty on the table along with Buggy the Clown and Nico Robin. You couldn’t help but become curious about what your Captain would pick about you although you supposed as long as he didn’t pick you to kill it was all fine, it was just a game after all. 

Kid suddenly felt tense and couldn’t help but look away from your printed face to the physical version of you. The you he suddenly became all too aware of. You’d been part of the crew forever and he’d never needed to see you as anything other than a valued member like the others. What if he said something that made you uncomfortable. But if he didn’t play then you could misread that too and make things worse. Fuck, why was he overthinking this? He had to finish the game and hope nothing more was said about it. “Kill the clown and kiss Robin.” He muttered quickly before looking away and draining the last of the alcohol in his mug. 

“Aww you wanna marry me?” You cooed, the smile growing wider on your face. With everyone satisfied with a good ending to the game, the crew began to clear up their drinks and the bounty posters and move to turn in for the night. You got up with a groan and stretched out your arms, finally feeling the need to rest too. With a yawn you turned to Kid who was still sitting and smiled softly. “Not heading to bed, Kid?”

“Yeah, heading soon.” He grumbled lost in his own thoughts that were now occurring to him and you tilted your head, a frown falling on your lips. Quickly Kid realised you were going to worry and he recovered enough to smirk at you. “We need our rest, right? We’ve got a wedding to plan huh?” He forced the joke out, relieved to see you laugh and leave while wishing the rest in the room goodnight. When you were gone, Kid glared at Killer who was sitting far too relaxed for his liking. “When did you add their bounty to the pile, Kil?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about and you have no way of proving it.” 

SMOKER

“Vice Admiral?” You paused in the middle of the G-5 Base corridor when you spotted the base commander leaning against the wall with his office just a few feet away. At the sound of your call he made no sign that he’d heard you. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for someone of his rank to get lost in thought especially if there were certain higher ups breathing down their neck or certain pirates occupying their minds. Adjusting the documents in your hands you approached the base commander. “Vice Admiral Smoker?” You asked again and moved to lightly touch his arm to get his attention. 

At the same time, Smoker turned sharply and knocked into your hand causing you to drop your files in surprise. As the papers fluttered to the floor you kept your gaze on Smoker, concern growing in your eyes. His usual steely gaze seemed to have dimmed and you noticed the small tremor in his otherwise imposing frame. As one of the base’s medical staff your critical, scrutinising stare was pinpointing all that stood out to you. Since you were dealing with the commander himself, you felt you had to be somewhat nicer and couldn’t just order him to rest. “Are you sick?” You asked and immediately his stare sharpened at the implication. 

“I’m fine.” Smoker’s answer was gruff as to be expected but you could hear the slight shake that could have been missed had you not been listening out for it. When he saw you weren’t fooled he finally took a proper look at you and through his mind that was getting foggier by the second he managed to recognise who you were and what department you worked for on the base. Inwardly he cursed his bad luck. He’d been trying to get to the safety of his office but a dizzy spell hit him hard and he had to stop to catch his breath just mere seconds before you’d approached him. Smoker didn’t want to be babied, getting sick was a rarity for him. He just wanted to get to his room and sit there in peace until he felt a little better. No one else had noticed his state all day, why did he get cursed with bad luck like this at the final moment? He just needed to get rid of you before you tried to take a closer look at him. “Aren’t you going to pick up your documents?”

“Well since you're not sick and are partly responsible for me dropping them. You can surely help me lift them, right Vice Admiral?” Your question was so sweet and innocent but still Smoker glared at the challenge in your eyes. In any of his previous interactions with you, you’d seemed so reserved and quiet but now he could see another side to you. With a grunt, Smoker lowered himself to the floor, trying to fight the wave of dizziness and aches rolling down his body. Mentally he cursed you as you smoothly crouched down and started collecting sheets at a pace far faster than he was able to. When Smoker was focused on the task you’d given him, you struck. Your hand touched his forehead before he could react and you scowled at the man in disapproval. “You’re burning up with a fever. You’re going to your room and resting.” 

Your order left no room for disagreement and before Smoker’s mind could truly catch up, he found himself walking into his room with you. When he was lying on his bed you set about gathering what was needed to help his fever and aches before making yourself comfortable at his desk to fix the scattered documents into their right files again. From the small layer of dust gathering on the surface you could tell Smoker didn’t use it much, being a man of action over paperwork. “You don’t need to stay, I’m fine.” Smoker grumbled. 

“The second I leave, you’ll rest for an hour at most and call yourself cured. I’m not leaving until I’m happy you’re actually fine.”

“An hour is all I need.”

“Didn’t know you had a medical degree.” You noted dryly. “Do I call you Doctor Vice Admiral Smoker or Vice Admiral Doctor Smoker?” It surprised you when Smoker’s deep laugh rumbled through the air and a small smile graced your lips at the sound. Perhaps he should laugh more, it was a nice sound and it would help make him more approachable to some people. 

“You can call me whatever you want.” Smoker mumbled, it wasn’t often people stood up to him like this and he had to admit it was refreshing to see. Unable to fight it, Smoker yawned as his body was beginning to give in to its need for rest. When you heard the telltale signs of him falling asleep you let out a sigh of relief that the medicine you’d given him was started to take effect. 

In the early hours of the morning, Smoker stirred at the soft feeling of fingers lightly running through his hair. It was a comforting feeling and still under the haze of sleep that hadn’t fully left him, his mind hadn’t properly caught up so he let himself relax into the feeling. Reaching up he curled his fingers around your wrist holding your hand in place as his eyes slowly opened and met your face. 

“Your fever’s finally regulated.” You informed him gently, keeping mindful of the time and not wanting to speak too loudly. “If you promise to drink more fluids and stay in bed until at least late morning I can leave.”

“I promise, thanks Doc.” Smoker mumbled with a half-smile, stifling a small yawn and letting his eyes fall closed again but when he didn’t hear you leave he opened his eyes again to see you still standing there. “Problem?”

“Um, kinda need my hand back…or did you want me to stay?” you laughed softly, trying to hold back the grin when Smoker tensed and quickly let go of your wrist, allowing you to leave. “Remember your promise.” You reminded him as you left, smiling to yourself as you left to your room with the memory of Smoker’s blushing, embarrassed expression fresh in your mind. You had to admit it was pretty cute to see. 

[axxio-sriracha]

"What's it like?" Regulus asked quietly, staring at the stars from their hiding spot in the garden.

"What's what like?" Sirius replied.

Regulus turned to look at him, the grass tickling his nose, "Being in love."

Sirius' eyes never moved from the stars, "Why do you ask?"

Regulus shrugged, "Just curious, I guess."

There was a long pause, Regulus assumed Sirius was trying to find the right words.

"It's sort of like falling." He explained, "It's slow at first. You don't even realise it. One day you notice the colour of their eyes is deeper than you thought. Less plain brown and more... chocolate coloured. The next time it's hearing their laugh and feeling yourself smile without meaning to, like your body wants to react, like the sound is... healing, I guess."

He paused again, finally moving to face Regulus.

Regulus nodded for him to go on.

"Eventually, all of the things you used to do as friends feel... bigger. Every touch doesn't feel so casual anymore. Everytime they say your nickname it's less of a joke and more like a secret, something sacred between the two of you."

He sighed, "Then, one day, you look up and realise how far you've fallen. And it's like there's no turning back. Everything reminds you of them. Everytime you make a joke you look to them first, to see if they're laughing. Everytime they walk in a room it's like nothing else matters." He laughed softly, the sound was nostalgic, "You find yourself looking for reasons to talk to them. Anything to be close to them, to feel their touch. Nothing is casual anymore, there's always... meaning, always something more left unsaid. It's understanding someone so deeply, and having them know you too."

Regulus smiled, "That sounds nice." He whispered.

Sirius nodded, "Yeah, it is."

"I want to have that some day." Regulus sat up, playing with a blade of grass between his fingertips.

Sirius sat up too, his own smile reassuring, "You will." He nodded, "Anyone would be lucky to have you."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Regulus pulled away from the pensive, his eyes filled with tears.

"May I be excused, professor?" Regulus asked.

The professor nodded, continuing his lesson on finding a positive memory for conjuring a patronus.

Regulus walked out into the hallway. His hands shook as he scrubbed the tears from his face.

And, of course, a voice from behind him caught his attention,

"Reggie! Hey, I thought you had defense class this hour?"

Regulus turned, meeting the deep chocolate brown of Potter's eyes. His stomach flipped as it always did when they were together.

"I do." He sniffed.

Potter caught the look on his face and his smile dropped. At once he was standing in front of Regulus, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay, I'm here." He soothed, his hands rubbing Regulus' shoulders.

Regulus couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, because the touch sent sparks across Regulus' skin.

Potter frowned, leaning back to look at him again,

"Are you alright?" He asked.

Regulus shook his head, his smile appearing of its own accord,

"I think im in love with you." He whispered.

Potter's eyes widened, he leaned back a little further, "Do you have a concussion? You sound loopy. We should get you to the nurse."

Regulus stopped him mid-stride as Potter began to lead him down the corridor. He shook his head, tears filling his eyes again,

"I'm serious, Jamie. I'm in love with you."

Neither of them made the Sirius joke, Regulus had never once seen Potter speechless like this.

Eventually, he seemed to find his voice again,

"You're in love with me?" He repeated slowly.

Regulus nodded, "I am."

James took a while to process this. Regulus realised he probably should have waited to give the news when Potter wasn't on his way to the lavatory.

He was just about to apologise when Potter took both of his hands in his own,

"I've loved you for as long as I can remember."

The words hit Regulus harder than he could have ever imagined.

Before either of them could get out another word, Potter was pulling him into a sweeping kiss.

Regulus knew without a doubt this was the feeling Sirius had been describing all those years ago.

But he was wrong about one thing.

Regulus was the lucky one.