#and the more i think about it the more i fucking hate that piece of shit time skip gege did between gojos unsealing and the start of this

[hoshifighting]

rival fashion designer!minghao

— synopsis: where minghao flexes his fashion awards whenever your brand competes against him during fashion week. — WC: 3k — WARNINGS: explicit language, smut, reader uses a transparent clothing (just like rihanna in oscar x swarovski), oral (f. receiving) ENORMOUS DICK!MINGHAO, slight face slap, mentions of choking on a cock, penetrative sex—or trying to.

look, you weren’t trying to start beef with minghao. you don’t even know why the dude hates you so much. okay, maybe you said one thing about his fall line looking like it got snatched off the clearance rack at an IKEA. but that was a year ago. and also? you were drunk and kinda bitter ‘cause your show got bumped for his stupid avant-garde puff-sleeve renaissance clowncore shit.

but now, every fashion week is like a personal vendetta for him to humble you. you’ll be vibin’, sipping your overpriced latte in the designer lounge, and this man will just stroll in, decked out in some vintage runway piece that costs more than your annual budget, flashing that “i won best emerging designer again” smirk like it’s a fucking weapon. and then he’ll throw some casual shit like:

“oh, y/n, is that your collection over there? i thought they were setting up for the kid’s line showcase.”

[...]

so this year, you swore you wouldn’t let him get in your head. you’d play it cool, professional, unbothered. except you walk into your studio late one night, the day before your big runway debut, and this man is just there. sitting on your worktable. wearing a pearl-studded harness and leather pants so tight it should be a crime.

you freeze, halfway through the door, holding the iced coffee you begged your intern to grab five minutes before starbucks closed. “what the fuck are you doing here?”

minghao barely glances up from his phone. “your assistant let me in.”

traitor.

“why?” you slam the coffee on the counter, praying your voice doesn’t shake. the audacity of him just existing in your space is enough to make your blood boil.

he stands, slow as hell, like he’s got all the time in the world. he’s tall—annoyingly tall—so when he steps close, you’re immediately at a disadvantage. but you refuse to back down.

“just wanted to check out the competition,” he says, eyes flicking lazily over the chaos of fabric swatches and half-finished sketches strewn across the room. “cute line. very... simple.”

“fuck you, hao,” you snap, crossing your arms. “it’s called ‘minimalism.’ not that you’d know anything about taste.”

he laughs, soft and low, the kind of sound that creeps under your skin and lingers there. “oh, i have plenty of taste. i just don’t need to keep it basic to get attention.”

and here’s the thing: you hate how much he gets to you. he’s a smug asshole with an overinflated ego, but he’s also stupidly talented, and you can’t ignore the fact that his lines always sell out in under a day. or how his press coverage makes yours look like a local craft fair feature.

but what really gets you is how hot he looks right now, with his ridiculous cheekbones and the glint of that tiny silver chain peeking out from under his collar. it’s disgusting. you hate it.

you’re about to throw a cutting remark his way, something about how he’s overcompensating with all that jewelry, but he beats you to it.

“you know,” he murmurs, stepping even closer, “you’d look good in my designs.”

your brain short-circuits. “excuse me?”

“if you ever want to elevate your style...” he trails off, dragging his gaze down the length of your body like it’s a runway.

“you are so full of shit,” you hiss, but there’s no heat behind it, because your stupid traitorous brain is suddenly imagining what it’d feel like to have his hands on you.

he smirks, all teeth and danger, leaning in so close you can smell his expensive cologne. “maybe. but you’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?”

you don’t answer.

[...]

the next morning, you’re running on zero sleep, fueled by pure spite and caffeine, but your runway show? flawless. models everywhere, hair spray choking the air, seamstresses practically sewing on skin ‘cause the deadlines were that tight. and you were doing a thousand fucking things at once.

fixing a hemline here, shouting at a makeup artist there—“no, not clean girl aesthetic, we’re going full grunge today, wake up!”—all while struggling to get yourself into the swarovskied transparent gown you planned to wear for the night.

no bra, because tits were the least controversial thing in fashion. and the way the crystals draped over your skin looking likew pure art. nipples out and proud, paired with modern curls swirled to perfection and makeup that screamed chaos-but-make-it-glam.

by the time your collection hit the runway, your nerves were shredded. but watching the models strut, each piece shining under the lights... fucking worth it.

and then, the finale: your dress sweeping dramatically across the stage as you closed the parade. you bowed to the crowd, letting the cameras and whispers soak in every inch of you, and as you turned to leave, you felt it.

minghao’s sharp eyes.

you caught his eyes just as they traveled the length of you—from the swirl of your hair, to the unapologetic sharpness of your nipples under the crystals, to the shimmer of your dress, down to the towering heels on your feet.

you just smirked to yourself as you headed backstage, knowing full well your collection didn’t just crawl under his skin this time. it slithered under his flesh, wrapped tight around his ribs, and squeezed.

[...]

minghao’s models stormed the runway like it was their goddamn birthright. and of course, you watched. no designer worth their silk ignored the competition, and minghao wasn’t just competition, he was a walking masterclass in making everyone feel like second place.

he closed his show with his usual flare, stepping out like he already knew the applause was his. fast-forward two designers later, and the nominations for the fashion academy awards started rolling in. you didn’t have to look to know minghao had already claimed half the early awards.

you watched him backstage through narrowed eyes as he balanced four trophies—two tucked in his arms, two in his hands—posing for a picture with that smug-ass smile. you knew that pic was already blowing up on his Instagram. your jaw clenched, nails digging into your palm as the last nominations were announced.

and then, plot twist of the year:

your name came up five times.

designer of the year: you.

new vision in fashion: you.

collection of the year: your brand.

runway innovation: your brand.

showstopper of the year: your brand.

walking out with those five heavy-ass awards in your arms? victory tasted better than champagne. your models and team practically swarmed you, hyping you up ‘cause they knew how much blood, sweat, and tears went into this collection.

but what you really wanted... minghao. definitely minghao. minghao, in your line of sight. because after all the times he flaunted his wins like a smug bastard, you wanted him to feel this.

and lucky for you, fate delivered.

you spotted him in the back hallway, leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. clearly, he hadn’t heard the last nominees. his head snapped up when your heels echoed through the space.

“oh, hey, hao,” you called out, voice sweet as honey but sharp as glass. you stopped just short of him, shifting the five trophies in your arms so they pressed against your chest. the weight of them pushed your tits up just enough to catch his eyes.

“looks like I’ve got... a plus one on you this year.” you smirked, shaking the awards a little for good measure, the motion making the crystals on your dress catch the dim hallway light.

his eyes flicked down—brief, subtle, but not subtle enough—and then back up, his expression neutral, but you could feel the shift in his ego.

“congrats,” he said, the word clipped like it physically hurt him.

“thanks, babe,” you purred, turning on your heel with a sway of your hips. “see you next season. maybe.”

and with that, you left, letting the click of your heels carry the weight of your victory.

[...]

days later, you were lounging in minghao’s big leather chair, legs crossed up on his table, showing the expensive ass high heels you always wore. his assistant had let you in with barely a question, and you weren’t one to waste an opportunity.

when he finally walked in, his eyes narrowed immediately. “what the hell are you doing here?”

“relax,” you drawled, leaning back like his office was a spa. “your assistant said I could wait. guess they like me more than you.”

he folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “didn’t think you’d show your face here after the other night. thought you’d be busy polishing all those trophies.”

you grinned, slow and smug. “oh, i polished them. just thought i’d stop by to see how you’re doing. must be hard, you know—losing.”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. instead, he stepped closer, looming over you. “you done?”

“not even close,” you said, standing up to match his energy. you stopped just shy of his chest, tipping your chin up. “but don’t worry, hao. i’ll let you borrow a trophy sometime if you really need the validation.” you patted his shoulder.

he scoffed, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer. “you know, i like your attitude.”

you raised an eyebrow. “yeah? you must, considering how much you stalk me every season.”

“maybe that’s why we should work together.”

you laughed, loud and sharp, tossing your head back. “oh, that’s rich. you? work with me? what, so you can take credit for my ideas and call it a ‘collaboration’?”

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “i’m serious. we’d be unstoppable.”

for a second, you almost believed him. “unstoppable, huh? what makes you think i’d even want to work with you?”

“because you like the challenge... admit it. you love it when i push you.”

“you’re intolerable.”

“and yet,” he murmured, stepping so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, “you haven’t left yet.”

your laugh came out breathy this time, your pulse quickening as his hand grazed the curve of your hip. “you think I’m staying here for you? please. your assistant let me in, remember?”

“sure,” he said. his thumb traced slow circles against your side, almost lazy. “but you’re still here.”

you were about to snap back with something cutting, something to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, but then he tilted your chin up with two fingers, his gaze locked on yours like a predator sizing up prey.

“stop thinking,” he whispered, leaning in just enough for your lips to almost touch. “you might actually enjoy yourself.”

his lips were soft and plump, moving against yours so fucking good that felt unfair. his hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped.

your hands found his chest, the fabric of his shirt warm under your fingertips as you pushed him slightly, breaking the kiss with a smirk. “you’re bold, i’ll give you that.”

“you’re still thinking,” he teased, catching your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling back.

your hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping just enough to feel the flex of his muscles. you threatened to sit on his table.

his eyes widened slighty, his hands immediately grabbing your ass to lift you up, making you yelp. “don’t!”

“what? scared i’ll break it?” you teased, wrapping your legs around his waist.

he places the needles that were spread lazily on the table, inside of a box. he turned, his grip firm as he carried you a few steps and sat you on a nearby armchair.

“there were needles on that table, genius,” he scolded, his tone sulky but his fingers tracing slow lines along your thighs. “you’d be bleeding before I even got started.”

“aww,” you cooed, dragging your nails down his neck. “you worried about me, hao?”

“no,” he muttered, kneeling, dipping his head to kiss along your jawline, his teeth grazing just enough to make you arch towards him. “just don’t want to ruin my night with a trip to the hospital.”

your laugh turned into a soft moan as his lips found the spot just below your ear. “guess you’re not as heartless as you act.”

he pulled back slightly, his smirk sharper than ever. “you talk too much.”

you pulled him in for another kiss, your tongues colliding this time. when you tried to take control, tilting your head for a deeper angle, he pulled back just enough to make you chase him.

minghao’s hands were firm on your thighs, his thumbs brushing against your skin like he wasn’t about to wreck you in the middle of his office. his eyes dragged down, lingering on the way your skirt was pushed up, the space between your legs bare and unapologetic.

he clicked his tongue, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “no panties, huh?” he said. “came here like this?”

“what can I say?” you shot back, shifting slightly so his hands pressed harder against your skin. “i had a feeling you’d end up on your knees.”

his smirk deepened, his fingers tightening slightly as he leaned in, close enough for you to feel his breath. he pressed your legs further onto the armrests, spreading you wider, his hands splayed like he wanted to leave imprints.

his tongue flicked out, close enough to make you tense—but he didn’t touch you. instead, he pulled back, his eyes locking with yours as a smirk tugged at his lips.

he leaned in again, his tongue brushing so close you could feel the warmth from his breath, but once again, he pulled back just as you tilted your hips forward.

“hao..” you warned.

“what?” he teased, his lips hovering over your folds.

your hands gripped the armrests as you glared down at him. “if you don’t stop playing, i swear—”

he cut you off with a broad, strong lick, dragging his tongue from your entrance, through your folds, and up to your clit in one unbroken suck. your head fell back as a gasp tore from your lips.

“that shut you up,” he muttered, his voice muffled as he dipped lower, his tongue swirling around your entrance before moving back up. “needy much?”

“shut up and do it again,” you shot back, your voice sharper than the way your thighs trembled under his grip.

and he did the same. your clit throbbing at the rough skin of his tongue, making you melt on his armchair, he smiled at the sight, he knew how a good head felt after months dealing with needles and sparkly cloths.

his lips latched onto your folds, sucking them into his mouth before he pulls back just slightly, his tongue flicking against your clit in quick, teasing strokes. you let out a pornographic moan, before your clap a hand on your mouth, remembering the team outside the office. he chuckled darkly, his hands tightening on your thighs to hold you still. his lips wrapping around your clit again. this time, he sucked it fully into his mouth, his tongue flicking against it as his eyes flicked up to yours.

“you’re so good at this, hmm—fuuuck!” you said, your nails drowning in the leather of the armchair. “you must’ve practiced on a lot of other girls, huh?”

his eyes narrowed slightly, and his teeth grazed your clit just enough to make you wwhimper. “jealous?” he asked, his voice smug, though he didn’t stop the relentless motion of his tongue.

“please,” you shot back, though the way your breath hitched betrayed you as he did a zig-zag on your bud with the tip of his otngue. “you’re better when you’re silent.”

he smirked against you, his lips curving as he pulled back just enough to speak. “then shut me up.”

your fingers tangled in minghao’s hair, tugging him closer, harder, until his face was buried against your pussy. his groan vibrated through you, desperate, and his hands clamped down on your thighs to steady himself as you rolled your hips against his mouth.

“that’s it... mhmm, just like that...”

he obeyed, his head bobbing as his tongue slid against you in broad, wet strokes, his lips sealing around your clit every few seconds to suck, deep and rhythmic. the wet, obscene sounds filled the room, and your nails scraped lightly against his scalp as you held him there, guiding him exactly how you wanted.

the heat in your core coiled tighter, and you barely had time to register your orgasm hit.

your back arched, your mouth falling open as moans spilled out shamelessly. your hips rolled against his face as you came, and minghao didn’t stop—not for a second. he worked you through it, sucking and licking as though he felt your climax before you did.

he only pulled back when you began to squirm, your breath coming in sharp gasps as overstimulation took hold. his lips and chin were slick as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes glinting as he looked up at you.

“had fun?” he asked, sarcastically.

you gave a breathless laugh, your chest heaving as you leaned back in the chair. “you talk too much for someone who just spent five minutes swallowing my pussy.”

his smirk widened, and he stood, his hands braced on the armrests as he leaned down, his face inches from yours. “and you talk too much for someone who’s about to beg me to fuck her.”

your gaze flicked to his lips, and then lower—to the bulge straining against his pants. “big words,” you said. “let’s see if you can back them up.”

his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he walked you back toward the desk—no needles this time. you didn't even had time to register what was happening before your skirt was pushed higher, his fingers brushing over your thighs as he settled you on the edge.

his hand worked his belt, the clink of the buckle making you clench around nothing.

“this isn’t gonna be quick,” he said as he freed himself, the sheer size of him making your breath catch. it was big both in length and girth.

you swallowed hard.

“relax... mhmm”

he teased your entrance with the tip, sliding it slowly against you, and the stretch was immediate, even as he slightly pressed in. your breath hitched, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as he pushed forward, achingly slow, giving you time to adjust.

“ngh—fuck!” you gasped, your voice breaking as he filled you inch by hard inch.

“breathe,” he murmured, his tone gentle despite the tension in his body. mouth glued on yours to make sure he feels your puffs of air.

“trying”

he paused, his hands tightening on your hips as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “you’re okay,” he whispered. “just breathe for me.”

you hiccuped, your chest rising and falling in shallow gasps as your body struggled to adjust.

“there you go,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as he waited “good girl. just like that.”

you exhaled slowly, your body relaxing slightly helping him to slid in further, the fullness stealing the air from your lungs.

your hands gripped his arms, your nails digging into his skin as he finally bottomed out, his body pressed flush against yours.

“fuck,” he muttered, his voice tight as he buried his face in your neck. “you’re—so fucking tight.”

you swallowed hard, your head tilting back as you tried to catch your breath. “you’re—so fucking big.”

he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours as a smirk tugged at his lips. “think you can take it?”

your breath hitched, and you nodded, your hands sliding to his back as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “try me.”

minghao hips pulls back just an inch before thrusting forward experimentally. the sound that left your lips was somewhere between a moan and a strangled gasp, your nails biting into his shoulders as your body clenched around him.

he paused, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes flicking over your face. “yeah, knew that’d happen.”

“don’t—” your breath hitched as he moved just slightly, a tiny shift that made you clutch at him even harder. “don’t fucking smile like that.”

his laugh was quiet, he leaned down, his forehead brushing against yours. “why not? you’re almost cummin already.”

“i’m not—” the words caught in your throat as he slid just a little deeper, your body trying desperately to adjust to his size.

“not what?” he asked, his tone playful as he stilled again, waiting for you to catch your breath.

“not—cumming” you managed, though your voice shook with the effort of speaking.

“hmm.” his thumb grazed your clit, circling it trying to soothe your nerves. “then why are you holding on to me likethat?”

you glared at him, though the effect was probably ruined by the way your mouth fell open with a gasp as his thumb pressed down just slightly harder.

your body tensed as he began to move again, sliding in slowly, each inch dragging against you in a way that made your head fall back. the wet squelch of your body adjusting to his girth filled the room, obscenelly.

“shit,” he muttered, his voice tight as he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you steady. “you’re so—tight. feels like you’re trying to squeeze me out.”

“maybe i am.”

he laughed softly “you’re all talk,” he murmured, his thumb still circling your clit. “that pussy is begging for me.”

“hao,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his arms as your legs tightened around his waist. “i—fuck, i can’t—”

“you can,” he said softly, his lips moving against your neck. “breathe for me, baby. you’ve got this.”

you exhaled shakily, your chest rising and falling against his as you tried to relax, tried to let the tension in your body melt away. his thumb pressed a little harder against your clit, insistent, coaxing pleasure to override the discomfort.

“that’s it,” he murmured, his voice soft as his arm tightened around your waist. “just like that. let me in.”

your head fell back, your eyes fluttering shut as he finally slid deeper, his hips pressing flush against yours. the sensation stole the breath from your lungs, and your fingers dug into his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor you.

“you okay?”

you nodded weakly, your hands sliding up to grip his hair as you whispered, “move.”

he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “not yet.”

your eyes snapped open, frustration bubbling in your chest as you glared at him. “hao—”

“relax,” he murmured, his thumb circling your clit again, making you cry out slyly. “i’m not gonna ruin you all at once. gotta make sure you can take it.”

“i can,”

“we’ll see,” he said, his tone smug as he finally, finally pulled back, his cock dragging against you.

“hao, just—fuck me already.”

his laugh was quiet. “you’re not ready for that yet, look—” he roll his hips, making you hiccup again. “but don’t worry—I’ll get you there.”

“how about you?” you ask, feeling your orgasm building up as he circled the thumb faster, your hips rolling slightly, weak, like the cock inside you was to heavy to make you roll them freely.

“i can get off just by looking at this pretty face...” he slaps your cheek weakly, twice, making you squeeze around him. “listen to what i'm telling you… you're still going to model for my brand.” he chuckles.

“i’d rather choke to death than work with your brand.”

“why don’t you choke on something else, then?”

[bullet-prooflove]

Such A Good Girl: Ryan x Reader (Yellowstone)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @trublu2u @Yousigned-upforthis @queenslandlover-93 @hal3ynicol3

Companion piece to:

With Me (NSFW) - Ryan and you send the night together for the first time.

The Morning After - Ryan and you enjoy the morning together.

Adrenaline - Ryan gets turned on by your capability.

My Favourite Kind of Night (NSFW) - Ryan and you send the night together at a law enforcement conference.

Bed Breaking (NSFW) - Ryan breaks your bed.

Marks - Ryan decides he wants to commit.

Wishes - Ryan wishes things were different between the two of you.

Stop Thinking, Start Listening - Ryan hates seeing you with another man.

Kitty - Ryan knows something's not right when he seees you with another man.

The problem is Ryan can’t keep his nose out of your shit, not when he knows you’re doing something dangerous. The thought of you out there undercover, it makes his skin itch because the assholes you work with they don’t have your back, they’ve never had your back. That was made abundantly clear during the first couple of cases the two of you worked on together when you came hurtling in like the cavalry despite the fact there was a hold order on their backup due to a dispute between the Sheriff and John Dutton.

“I think I owe you a drink, for saving my ass back there.” He had told you in the aftermath as he stood on the steps of the precinct, hands tucked into pockets of his jeans.

“You owe me more than a drink. I’ve just got my first write up.” You’d told him, your hands running through your hair as you tied it back into a messy bun. “I was such a good girl before I met you.”

He finds out later that night how much of a good girl you really are and you find out how much of a bad boy he is.

In the present he sits in his car and he thinks over everything he’s learned over the past couple of hours. The ATF believe guns are being run through a microbrewery in Bozeman owned by Sebatian Myers, you’d been selected to pitch in because you’d run a similar operation back in Alabama before you made the switch to Montana. There have been no wire tap warrants, no surveillance requests, they’re running this like you’re a C.I which means you’re out there entirely on your own. What’s actually puzzling to him is the reason that you agreed to it. That op in Alabama, it had ended badly for you. Ryan’s seen the scars, he’s kissed them in the dead of night. Three stab wounds all in your left side, you’d lost your kidney and an enormous amount of blood. You couldn’t be around the department after that, especially after you learned it was your partner who ratted you out, a man you’d worked alongside for three years, who had gambling debts coming out of every orifice.

“I learned my lesson.” You had told him as his fingers had trailed over each of those scars. “Undercover work isn’t for me.”

It’s when he flicks through the file on Myers that he realises what your investment is. Two years ago Myers had been linked to the rape and murder of a teenager from the reservation. It was one of  several cases you inherited from your predecessor. You’d tried to reopen it but the reservation police wouldn’t trade information with you and it wasn’t a priority to the Sheriff’s office so you’d been forced to stand down. You used to have nightmares about it because you felt like you were failing those girls, you’d wake up in a cold sweat and Ryan, he would be right there holding you, soothing you.

He knows you, he knows those cases were something you had never been able to let go because you were convinced that it was still happening, that the killer had just gotten better at concealing it. When the opportunity to investigate Myers had come up you wouldn’t have been able to resist. You’d dressed yourself up and walked straight into the lion’s dean, no back up, no safe guards, just you.

He’s fucking livid because he knows you wouldn’t be pulling this shit if the two of you were together, he would have talked you down, figured out another way.

But you aren’t and that’s  why Ryan’s now sitting outside Myers’ place, his gaze fixed on the windows because he can’t let you do this alone. He won’t let you do this alone.

Love Ryan? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[seat-safety-switch]

Sometimes, when I'm feeling flush, I like to go to this little restaurant near me. It's a sushi joint, and in my part of the world that always has to come with some additional kitsch. For this restaurant, it's "bullet train sushi." You order on a little iPad, and then a train comes out of the kitchen, bringing your sushi behind it. Clean. Efficient. Antithetical to my morals and values.

See, I'm from North America. In case you're unfamiliar, it's very popular these days. You can find it on the north end of America on any map, except for that weird one that is about Pangaea. One thing we love in North America is cars. We spend a couple of hours stuck in one so we can go to an office we hate, then spend a couple of hours going home so we can spend a few more hours taking our kids to a soccer game. If we had a train, then we'd be able to do things like check our text messages without running over a pedestrian.

Being presented with this totally viable transportation alternative, albeit in miniature and towing little pieces of raw fish behind it, troubles the mind. If we had made better choices, put monopolists to the torch, could we have a utopian society where you order things on a little iPad and then gleamingly efficient tubes fly you out of the kitchen and into a glorious new world? I love the food, but I hate the frantic cold sweats it gives me as I ponder an alternative civilization that doesn't care quite so much about heated steering wheels. That's why I had to do something.

Welcome to Switch's Highway of Sushi – the only sushi restaurant in town that's sponsored by General Motors Corporation. Here, each table is actually a fully-equipped Chevrolet Blazer. Diners are commanded to get their own goddamn food the way our forefathers once did: in four-wheel-drive. The eight-storey parking garage in which the restaurant is housed features many stalls, containing highly trained chefs making delicious food that's just a complex parking job in tight confines away.

Sure, it makes the restaurant fairly space-inefficient having to make room for sixty 6000-pound SUVs. Our insurance is through the fucking roof because our customers keep backing over the waiters and their own families (why not look at the award-winning ClearView Surround Backup Camera, idiots?) And the air quality inside the place could be defined as "not great," even with the really expensive oven vent hoods you get at the restaurant supply store.

All this doesn't matter. Freedom is what matters. The freedom to not have to occupy the same space as any other member of your civilization, unless you are currently backing over them because you forgot to check the backup camera again. Come on, table four. If you're going to keep this up all night, we might think about giving you some demerits.

[ganondoodle]

honestly i dont know how many times i can keep trying to like and engage with things if they always end up disappointing me so badly i cant like what came before it anymore

im not trying to center this around me or something, but im having a hard time coping with arcane doing it too (to me)

few things can catch my attention and all interests in media i have ever had fumbled everything later so badly i often never want to see or think about it again

its happened with transformers (prime specifically, i think the ending of season2? i dont remember everything but after the fucking new guys show up and it killed my hyperfixation on it back in the day), one piece (stopped since whole cake island and anything new i see of it only makes it more clear i cant stand it anymore), zelda (ahah .. totk, fuck that game, basically killed my hyperfixation on the franchise and im only holding on for some projects and cool people i met through it), (edit; how could i forget fromsoft/elden ring and what the DLC did.....), arcane/league (arcane, lore retcons, and now its ending, but it happened before it turned into a hyperfixation so theres that bit of mercy lol) and those were only my super special hyperfixation ones i still clearly remember im sure im forgetting some, its happened with movies and other series i gave a try too (even mob psycho ... the series i thought couldnt disappoint me ...)

i feel so bad about it, i feel like i am somehow wrong to dislike or even hate how media goes, and bc it happens every time i feel like .. theres something wrong with me .. theres gotta be soemthing wrong with me right?.. i SWEAR i do NOT find joy in hating or disliking things, it is not fun for me, i hate hating things, especially when i once loved them, even if it may seem like there is nothing i can ever like i am NOT doign it on purpose, i feel the same, i feel like theres nothing i can ever just like, and i hate myself for it .. but also cant help it, i cant force myself to like thingsi dont either, i just want to rip my hair out and cry

[hryniewiecki]

Grand Arcane S2 review

because I really need it to move on

Remember how I mentioned I could write an entire book about everything that went wrong with this season? Well, this is what a little excerpt from it would look like.

Let's start with a personal note to clarify my relationship with this hell of a piece of media.

S1 was this miracle show that was able to break through the several years of depression and anhedonia and make me interested in something, make me try to get back into making art (or at least try to try), to put myself out there on the internet a bit, to try be a part of something and not ashamed of enjoying it, which I never allowed myself before. Coincidentally, I've been at what I thought then was the worst place in my life when it aired and it helped me a lot to get through it. I didn't even think I would make it to see S2, as thee years felt like forever then. Taking all that into consideration, I think you can already tell where this is going.

I honestly thought I was prepared for S2 not being good, as no show could be this perfect. Turns out I wasn't prepared at all. Act 1 made me very happy, so happy I watched it two times, but the rest is something I would've never watch again and rather forget about.

The characters I wanted to see the most were Warwick (body horror, The Wrath of Zaun haunting the streets - got just a glimpse of that, but it felt like nothing) and Viktor (cyborgs and cyber gore, misunderstood idealist, Blitzcrank - got basically nothing; the idea was kinda there somewhere, but got changed so much it didn't matter at all).

I can't believe they took a godforsaken champion like Viktor and not only ruined his story completely, but also managed to fuck up everything else by all of a sudden making him a center of all of this mess. The center being the arcane/hextech/magic, which never even gets resolved/explained. Still no idea why it got corrupted and what was the nature of it; the void was never taken anywhere despite being heavily hinted - everything was evil because it was, but luckily the magic of friendship saved us!! (I'll get to that)

Speaking of crucial plotlines that weren't taken anywhere.. Basically every character got screwed over and made empty. Let's use Vi for a quick example (may not actually be the best example, but hopefully you'll get what I mean) - when I saw the pit fighter scene released early, I expected to see it have a continuation in the show, but instead it ended up just being the exact same music video, nothing more. And that goes for some more events - they get compressed into music videos that make it all incredibly hollow. Fight scenes are fine like this, sure, but not something that was supposed to be a bit more emotional and serious. Anyway, they successfully made me hate most of the characters. Either hate or just straight up not recognize them, and in a bad way.

Long story short the pacing is awful (it only gets back to normal in ep7, as it resembles the structure of S1) and the writing sucks ass. I can't for the love of god believe it was written alongside S1. There's no way in hell - it's literally all the worst fan theories I've seen come to life and get mixed with fanservice. *puts on a tinfoil hat* Maybe this is the real why they needed an extra year or two, as S2 was initially supposed to be released earlier. No way in hell the same people who wrote S1 and cared so much about the characters would do anything like this. Riot must've gotten heavily involved, making us believe they cut the story short (I think 5 seasons in Piltover/Zaun were planned initially?) for the benefit of it, but all it really was is greed - let's make a bunch of bullshit happen and quickly move to another region to sell more skins for new champions.

Now let's get back to the ending. Man, it really had it all - the nonsense, the multiverse bullshit which basically makes nothing make sense anymore (if there was anything left), the (yes, I'm going to say it, because that's exactly what I felt) cringe and embarrassment. Never seen anything more hollow trying to convince me it was deep and emotional (sums up the whole show perfectly).

How the hell the only thing that was supposed to save Viktor from himself was Jayce telling him he's perfect the way he is? Sure, don't try to cure your illness (that my city caused, but "fortunately" another crucial part of the plot, which is the sister cities conflict, ceased to exist), it makes you beautiful, this is who you are (miserable, unwanted, feeling meaningless and like a burden, dying). I am at loss of words.

Now buckle up jayvik fans. I wasn't a fan of the ship as I'm not a fan of any ships in general, but now I despise it. I wouldn't mind if they actually went on with it, which no, they didn't. We don't want two men kissing (women making out is fine tho, won't make the gamers too angry), so let's play extra safe to make sure it could be explained as any type of other close bond (and that's exactly what Christian Linke does when asked about it). You disgusting cowards, either you show me this in plain sight and I wouldn't give it a second thought, or don't even try bring it up at all (and you can't deny it wasn't implied in S1 with all the Viktor's looks and parallels to Mel).

Where do I even begin? Because I don't think you have any idea on how many levels it actually sucks. If you read it as romantic it's basically telling me that if I was a gay man struggling with my feelings and not being able to confess for years, because I'm convinced I'm unworthy of love as something is inherently wrong with me, then the best I could get after surviving all this (what honestly seems like hell) is a hug, because you're ashamed of me and thus I should be ashamed of who I am till the very end.

Something equally bad is Jayce finding out (or rather we finding out) how wonderful the world could look like if he let go of his beautiful dream, his life's work, and killed himself - it never gets denied, as the corruption of hextech doesn't get explained.

Long story short, if you're struggling with your mental health, trauma issues, disability or any of the problems the characters you related to deal with, this show spits you in the face.

I could go on forever about everything that's wrong (even Jinx got played dirty), but let's finish with the few things I liked: act 1 was promising (it's when I believed they could still make sense of Viktor), fun Sevika's arcade arm fight, the epic fight at the Janna's temple (Woodkid goat), Jayce killing Salo (I felt something) and Jayce's glitchy madness in general, young Vander flashback (felt something), ep7 and Singed's story (the only one that makes any sense).

Other than that the show left me with nothing but void in my heart (I guess that's when it all went). The saddest thing being the masses love it anyway, as it seems they'll watch anything that's colorful enough. And Riot will make lots of money of off it, because in the end they never loose. I'm not denying Fortiche absolutely outdid themselves with the art, it's just heartbreaking nothing else even remotely stands up to it.

[jules-ln]

Ok you guys I went to sleep at 1 am and woke up at fucking 5 am to watch arcane so here are my thoughts/review:

After I finished it, first of all, I was mad lmao, then I thought about it for a moment and I started crying, but like ugly crying with sobs and everything because holy shit Jayce and Viktor, then I stopped crying, thought about it a bit more, and I got mad Again lmao

Now spoilers

It was a fucking mess lmao

Like seriously what the fuck fortiche, what the fuck Riot, it was such a fucking mess, it was all over the place, the story was rushed, the characters arcs were rushed, there was a lot of things that felt very forced because they didn't have time to let it happen naturally and I can tell a lot of things that would've been good were left in the inkpot

About Cait and Vi: I truly and honestly couldn't have care less about them lmao

I know I know

But I already fucking knew they were going to end up together that Vi was going to forgive Cait for being a fascist etc etc, for me their arc was already finished and I didn't have time to care about them because I was more worried about what the heck would happen to the other characters and how in hell would they wrap up that mess. If they would've cut all their scenes and gave that time to Mel or something, I would've been so fucking happy

Also, the sex scene annoyed me so much lmao, I was thinking "IF YOU WANTED A SEX SCENE YOU SHOULD'VE ADDED ANOTHER SEASON FORTICHE! WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT NOW!" lmao

Mel: I liked the concept of her arc, I like the theory, I can see their vision, what they were going for

But in reality it wasn't fucking that

Like, I like the idea of having Mel realize that she was much more than the daughter of her mother, that she had her own value for who she was instead of simply being the blood in her veins. But boy, it didn't feel at all like she realized that lmao

It just felt like she was "now I'm confident enough about myself to confront my mother because the writers said so" like what? This is what I mean when I say that a lot of things felt forced

Viktor: ok, ok I'm just like *heavy sigh*

To be honest part of why I was mad at first was Viktor's character, I was like "So what? You stop being a humanity loving pacifist to become a fucking control freak who hates free will and emotions just like that?" But then I thought about it, and if you frame his arc through Jayce, it actually made sense, because you see, everything he did was for Jayce. When he came back and went to build his cult, I mean, Commune, he was doing their hextech dream, the thing they always wanted, the thing Jayce always wanted

When Jayce went and rejected him by shooting him in the chest (thanks Jayce) he was hurt, he lashed out and wanted to get rid of all emotions, ironically it was a very emotional reaction. So then as soon as Jayce was back with him, he realized his mistake and stopped

So yeah, it makes sense, the problem is that I shouldn't have to stop and piece together a character motivation like that Fortiche what the hell. I know some people say "let the audience do some work!" But I feel like I'm doing all the fucking work here

What they did was great! Good! But just like Mel, give it more fucking time please

And the machine herald design was a bit ugly lmao, like his design in the game looks better, but thinking about it, and looking at the other robots design and how Viktor dresses in the series. I think it makes sense that this specific Viktor would design something like that

EDIT: Oh! I Also forgot to add:

My favorite scene of him was when Jayce was taking out all of those things one by one and Viktor waited until he was done to push them all back LMAO he didn't need to do that

Jayce:

Jayce, what the hell

Like, I understand why Viktor acted like he did, but like, what was up with you?

I mean, the end implied that he knew all along what was going to happen (machine herald, save Viktor etc), but like, why did he acted so angry at the commune then? He seemed so erratic and Angry like he didn't know what was going to happen, but he knew, and then he switched back to normal but like, what was up with all of what happened before? If anything, why didn't just he let Viktor get to the hexgate peacefully and then talk to him? Idk, it just seems to me like Jayce was the character the most affected by the crossfire of the plot happening because the writers had a very specific ending in mind and no time to get to that ending naturally

Also "hextech is bad" Then proceeds to let everyone keep using it lmao

Ambessa and Singed: of all the characters I think these one were the worst of all lmao

Like the plot completely changed Jayce and forced Mel, but like, these two just were put aside? Lmao

Everyone at Fortiche was like "Fuck Ambessa and Fuck Singed" which is a shame because these two were really interesting

Ekko and Jinx:

I think of all the other characters, these two were the best ones

I didn't feel like their arc was forced, it felt like they were given enough time, but you know why? Because their arc started in season 1, in this season they just finished it

The only thing I will complain about is Isha, because it just feels like they used her and completely discarded her after like a broken toy. Like Silco was waaay better handled than her

Heimmerdinger: I mean, I didn't care much about him lmao, he was only there because the plot needed him, and when he wasn't necessary anymore they got rid of him lmao

But it was less obvious than Isha at least

Viktor and Jayce: now, this is the part that got me fucking crying so much, and this along with Ekko and Jinx are the things that make me feel conflicted about this ending and not hate it as much as I would otherwise

It was all left ambiguous, and the cynical part of me thinks "of course they can't make it any more obvious because then the dude bros who main Viktor and Jayce in LoL are going to cry about how they don't want to play as a man who wants to kiss another man"

But if I take it at face value... Ngl guys, it was good

Like how Jayce chose Viktor after everything he did, how Viktor tried to push Jayce away to protect him but Jayce refused to leave, how all they wanted wasn't progress, or fame or power, but simply be together. And they got to be together in the end

Damn, I'm crying again

I JUST FUCKING WISH EVERYTHING AROUND IT WASN'T A MESS!

And I wanted to add, when everyone in Zaun went to help everyone in Piltover to deal with Ambessa, I wouldn't have done that, fuck them, they put a fucking fascist dictator on power, probably made a lot of people "dissappear" and just like that they are like "Guys, we're sorry, we need your help now :(" fuck that

In the end, it doesn't feel like Fortiche earned this ending. Season 2 should've ended with Arc 2, and Arc 3 should've been a whole season

And I can't give it a rating, because I don't know, I didn't like a lot of it, but there were some parts that I really fucking loved

But if someone asked me if it was worth to give the series a try, I would say yes, but don't get your hopes up for the ending lmao

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Losing my Mind over Veilguard 4/??

I think what's killing me the most is this "have your cake and eat it, too" mentality EA-as-Bioware has ushered in with this game.

To try and perfectly walk the line of giving old fans what they wanted/deserved and new fans something to just jump into was a tall fucking order given that they fired so many writers, and I personally feel like they fell way short.

Part of that, I think, comes from the fact that while it's certainly helpful to play Origins and then DA2 before you reach Inquisition (I'm speaking as someone who played the games backwards), I don't think Inquisition left off as a complete story the way the first two did. We had a world on the brink and pieces on the board that had so much personal stake in staying on it until Solas was handled. We had, whether the head devs wants to accept their failures regarding it or not, an entire Keep of previous choices that could have and should have informed the world going forward. I'm not saying it was sustainable to keep raising the stakes on those choices. I am saying, however, that with the time it took to get this game to us, more than three sanitized choices deserved to matter before Bioware closed the chapter on its strongest line of storytelling and moved on to RPG Lite. To give that up, to choose a new and uncertain fan base over an already dedicated one, is disappointing.

And to that end, even if we weren't going to get the Inquisitor again (which, at this point, I'm kind of thinking we should have, even if just for parts of it), I had near-constant exhaustion finding a shred of story that connected us to the previous games and then realizing it had been done in an unsatisfying way (hi, Dorian/Isabella/MORRIGAN).

I wouldn't have cared if this had been its own standalone game. There were parts of it I enjoyed, and I'm sure I'll be here shouting about those things too, soon enough. But the fact is that for every thing I appreciate about the game there are about ten more that make me mourn the nine years I spent eager to see what was coming next.

TLDR: You cannot show me a watered-down game that stands on the shoulders of stronger writing, plot, narrative, characters, etc. and the built world and depth of three previous games and multiple supplementary written works, and then expect me to be wholly accepting of the result. Veilguard gutted the rich body of work that came before it, threw enough bone shrapnel into the mix to keep people desperate to see a conclusion to events that had been building up for in-game years hanging on, and then discarded the rest with a casual sort of "deal with it, we're making way for the new" attitude.

Welcome to the new, I guess.

I intentionally waited a few days after finishing the game to sift through everything and not just rage-post immediately, so hopefully this comes across as relatable to those on a similar page and not as me telling you that you should hate the game too if you in fact are very happy with it. (Put another way: I'm not here to change minds, I'm here to scream into the ether)

[fanaticsnail]

Be careful with commission work it’s a quick way to ruin fandom spaces and make money off of ip that isn’t yours

Maybe write something you can sell legally and ethically like a novel that’s built on your own ideas and not a fan work or at least hide it better like 50 shades and After

Hi Anon! Thank you for your concern.

Regarding my commissions - they were and are specifically for that person only, and they are closed currently. I write original character content for pirates and monsters in a land of fantasy - delivered specifically for that person in their own spaces - not for the public.

Here on Tumblr and AO3, I write fics, mini fics, drabbles, and headcanons for free and on my own time. I love doing it, and the love I feel for the fandom is tangible and thick.

The only reason I opened my coms to begin with is I had a personal expense I couldn't have met with my current non-existent income. My prescription lenses broke, and we're irreplaceable and unrepairable according to the optometrist. I didn't want to be like "Hey, so, this happened and I'm struggling". I'd prefer to earn it instead of asking for funds and aid from the community here. I don't like feeling helpless, and this was a way I felt I could earn my new glasses.

Truth be told, I prefer trades. I love my OC and her ships, and I love seeing interpretations of her on others' dashes. Makes me all happy seeing Tobiuo interact with other people. And honestly: I just love writing. Creating specifically curated content for people with their OCs interacting makes me feel all gushy and happy - especially for an exclusive way to interact with their OCs and their Canon ships.

I've also found in this experience alone, there are so much more hate for fandom creators in their writing than artists with their pieces. I'm not giving you hate in any way, anon. I absolutely feel for your concern. My experience with content creators with OCs and shipping, or 'paid work' has been exclusively negative. Aside from those wanting to compensate me for the time I spend with their original characters and their Canon ships: my asks, DMS, and comments have all pointed me in one direction: "How dare you try to make money off fics. Your words are for you and us here, fuck you." "Your words ain't worth shit." and "You're a horrible person. Kill yourself." (The amount of death threats has been mad lately, and it's been hard to deal with).

This is the quickest way of destroying an author creating for free. All I wanted to do was write some pieces for people exclusively, and it's been a complete contrast as to how it goes for artists drawing your original characters. Could you imagine if this kind of attention was given to those completing digital art as opposed to writing? Gosh. The fandom would suffer in one way or another.

Honestly, anon. I'm having a hard time these days. All I want is to write and build off the world I love so much for something I do in my own time. It's been a hard, learning journey. Truthfully, I don't think I'll be opening my comms again. I have not enjoyed this experience, and it's making my love for the fandom slowly dwindle to a halt.

Again, thank you for your ask. I enjoy the time and concern you've spent with me here. It's made me take a time out and think about what I want to do in terms of writing, and it's been a big learning experience for me.

Also: If I was to write a novel, it would likely be something in a land of monsters - likely my original character and her culture interacting with humans and cross-cultural relationships. That would be fun to explore one day. For now, I'm just a snail trying my best to navigate parenthood and experiencing an outlet for the love I have for One Piece.

Love you, and I hope you're having a beautiful day 🖤🐌

[beanghostprincess]

Luffy not knowing about Zoro promising Sanji to kill him if he ever ends up losing himself makes me go feral because that's something they can only know about. Because Zoro's respect for life and death goes beyond anything, and Sanji knows he understands. Sanji knows that if somebody has to kill him, it's him.

And I don't even think it's because Sanji assumes Zoro's opinion of him is hatred and it would hurt less for him to do this, but because Sanji knows only Zoro would be able to treat the promise as it is. Because he would put Sanji's wishes before any feelings he has for him. It's not that Zoro doesn't care, but I think he respects people's ideals and decisions to the extent of being able to kill Sanji if he so desires.

That being said, he'd do it if there's no other way to fix it. If it's either dying or living as an emotionless machine, which is the same as dying for Sanji, Zoro would fulfill his promise. And there is just... Something about Luffy not knowing. Their captain. The man they're devoted to the most as if he were their God. Luffy doesn't know. It's something only the captain's wings are aware of and the thought of these two keeping this from Luffy until the end is just insane. Not even trying to make it romantic here, but the bond and respect these two have for each other is crazy.

Maybe it's the poetry of it all, too. Somebody like Zoro, who has looked at Death in her face multiple times and said "no", ending Sanji's life, who wants to give in to death to not experience a fate worse than death for him.

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

Thinking about the KaeyaJeanDiluc friendship where they grew up together and they were CLOSE & sure maybe Jean felt like Diluc & Kaeya were closer since they were brothers & sure maybe Kaeya felt like he had to keep secrets from the two of them bc they would never understand but they were like. A trio! A team!

& then Diluc’s 18th birthday comes around and everything goes to shit and Diluc LEAVES so they’re no longer KaeyaJeanDiluc but just Kaeya & Jean & in some ways Kaeya and Jean get closer because of it but there’s also a pronounced DISTANCE where Jean doesn’t know how to reach Kaeya anymore & Kaeya is even more determined not to tell Jean anything & they both lose themselves in their duties to Mondstadt while also missing Diluc and ALSO, despite everything, offering each other unconditional support

& then Diluc comes BACK & in addition to Kaeya & Jean there’s the shaky reestablishment of Jean & Diluc and Diluc & Kaeya but it’s not THE SAME. they’re no longer KaeyaJeanDiluc; Jean & Kaeya are knights and Diluc will never be a knight again & they all changed while Diluc was away & none of them know how to talk to each other anymore AND YET there’s still an undercurrent of trust!! Not fully, especially between Kaeya & Diluc, but Diluc still calls on Jean during the archon quest, trusting that she will keep their secrets even though as the acting grandmaster she should probably not. Jean says in her about Diluc voiceline that she understands why Diluc hates the knights & is working hard to make them an organization he can trust again. Kaeya covers for Diluc’s darknight hero escapades & fondly reminisces about their childhood in front of him. Diluc invited Kaeya to dinner at the winery & (afaik) never told anyone about Kaeya’s origins. Kaeya tells the traveler that they need to give Jean their full support and planned a birthday party for her. Jean left Kaeya in charge of Mondstadt when she went to the golden apple archipelago! On some level they recognize that their goals still align!! There’s still trust and love there but there’s also this gap between them that none of them know how to cross and I just!!!

[necrotic-nephilim]

I’m gonna be honest I didn’t realize the new 52 messed with Kon that much till I read your post and now I can’t get over the potential. I’m a Tim/Kon girly at heart so I would devour anything you write exploring the 52 vs typical Kon. Also Time being in a clone sandwich is 👌.

the new-52 messed Kon up SO bad it's ridiculous. like, to the point i would personally argue he's a completely unrelated character to pre-Flashpoint/Rebirth Kon. his personality, his suit, his origin, all different. the only real similarities are the name and powerset. and even New-52!Kon's powers are slightly different from pre-Flashpoint!Kon. New-52!Kon is a clone of a future version of Jon Lane Kent, cloned by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. to provide genetic material to Jon Lane Kent, whose body was not handling being half human/half Kryptonian well, it was a whole thing. New-52!Kon is also where we get the infamous "Kon-El means 'abomination of the house of El' and Kara basically named him a slur in Kryptonian culture" tidbit, because that is the only time that's canon. (originally Kon-El was a name gifted by Clark to accept Kon as his family way back in the 90s) he also never went by Conner Kent. New-52!Kon just straight up didn't have any real human identity or connections, outside of being very close to Tim and some Titans.

the very TLDR of Kon's history is: during post-Crisis/pre-Flashpoint, a clone called Superboy is created by CADMUS. at first, he's considered to be a clone of a dude named Paul Westfield and is not Kryptonian whatsoever, he was simply made to look like Superman and only has Tactile Telekinesis as a power. then, it was made canon that actually he was a clone of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent, but Lex hid this fact and slowly, Kon developed more Kryptonian powers. he's given the name Kon-El by Clark, and is taken in by the Kents, getting the name Conner Kent. then Flashpoint happens, we get the New-52, and we're given the above version of Kon-El, who is a clone of Jon Lane Kent, created by N.O.W.H.E.R.E. who has mostly very strong telekinesis powers and some Kryptonian powers. he's with the Titans for a bit, then at the end of the New-52, he kills some aliens and feels bad about it so he decides to fuck off and is never seen again, it's presumed he's dead but never confirmed. then Rebirth happens and DC makes Jon Kent the current Superboy, we get Supersons and all that, and it's assumed that no version of Kon-El exists. just at all. he's not around whatsoever, Jon is our only Superboy. *but* in 2019, we get a new Young Justice run and the pre-Flashpoint Kon-El is back, and we're given the explanation of: Kon got accidentally teleported to this alternate realm called Gemworld and then Flashpoint happened, and since that was a Crisis Event that changed the timeline, the poor lad got *erased* from the timeline, causing most people to *not fucking remember him* and for him to remember a timeline that no longer exists. some of the Young Justice team vaguely remember him, Ma and Pa Kent remember him, but notably, Clark *does not remember him*. it's not an issue of "Clark ignored Kon in favor of Jon" it's an issue of "Kon was erased from the timeline and didn't exist for years bc he was stuck in Gemworld and Clark just doesn't remember Kon or Kon's timeline" which to me, is far more tragic but i digress. since then, Kon has been back and is present in most significant Superfamily runs, with his own recent mini-series, Superboy: Man of Tomorrow. (which was very good btw)

so basically: the New-52 fucked Kon up so bad they wrote him out of comics for years and then brought back the pre-Flashpoint version, but never *explicitly* killed the New-52 version off. so hypothetically, it's possible that there are currently two characters existing in the DC universe named Kon-El who have been Superboy. and like i said above, one of New-52!Kon's only real significant relationships was with Tim, it was the only thing the New-52 managed to get right about Superboy, his closeness to Tim. they have a *lot* of moments that read incredibly queer. and ofc, it's just outright confirmed in Dark Crisis: Young Justice that Tim had a crush on pre-Flashpoint!Kon at some point. so while comics are intent on pretending New-52!Kon doesn't exist, i am intent on putting Tim in a clone sandwich.

because i do think it's fun to play with Tim having genuine feelings and potentially a relationship with both of them. and the fucked up nature of him not fully *remembering* his relationship with pre-Flashpoint!Kon (which is a canon thing, in YJ(2019) Tim has vague memories of Kon he's struggling to piece together and understand why he cares about this guy he doesn't recognize so much) and how frustrating that is for Tim. he knows he loves Kon, but it's all foggy besides that. and so it's even *more* fucked up if Tim dated New-52!Kon before he got emo and ran off into the unknown. obviously in canon no one has told current Kon about New-52!Kon bc comics are doing the good ol' tried and true of "sweep that shit under the rug" but for fanfic, i think it's fun to ask the question of: would anyone *tell* Kon? especially Tim? who now remembers dating both versions of them? would he admit to Kon that briefly, he had another Kon? how would Tim cope with that and move on? personality wise, they could not be more different. they dress and act and look different. they're not the same person, but there's certainly a questionable factor of Tim's dating history including two Kon-Els.

the idea i've had for a while is Tim slowly starting to date pre-Flashpoint!Kon again. it feels familiar and like home. and Tim has grieved and accepted that wherever New-52!Kon is, he doesn't want to come home, he didn't love TIm enough to stay and try. so Tim takes the Kon he has, and genuinely has a happy relationship. like for once, life is good and things almost make sense for Tim. but then, of course, New-52!Kon comes back. he decides he wants to try again and he finds Tim. only to find well. he's been replaced. and technically, he's been replaced with the *original* that he didn't even know *existed*. and if being a clone is bad enough, that just makes it a hundred times worse. because imagine knowing you're actually the second Kon-El your boyfriend who you never *technically* broke up with fell in love with. that's gotta give you some kind of complex.

so i think it's fun if both Kons try to step back and let the other Kon date Tim. both of them have reasons to feel like the "replacement" or "fake" Kon, and it makes them incredibly awkward with each other. do they count as the same person? bc they definitely don't *feel* like the same person to each other, but with weird timeline stuff, who can really say. them settling on an awkward throuple that's really meant to be Tim just dating them both but somehow they end up dating each other too is so fun for me. they both feel like imposters to the Superboy name but are so deeply in love with Tim Drake, it's the one thing truly connecting them. and then of course, Tim feels bad in that somehow, he's betraying both of them for having feelings for the other. but they make it work, with a lot of awkward angst and miscommunication. i just think it'd be fun. very difficult to write to get all the weird timeline nuances down in a way that's understandable in a fanfic (bc you can't just. infodump like i did on this post) but doable. also difficult to tag, because even though i argue these are two different characters, i'm pretty sure Ao3 groups them under the same character tag. so it'd be difficult to convey it's not *really* as selfcest-y as it would imply. comics, man. DC will never acknowledge New-52!Kon again, and he's admittedly a terrible adaptation of Kon-El, but. i think he was sort of neat in his own right and i'd *love* for DC to just inexplicably bring him back and make the current Kon deal with the consequences of all that. and them make Tim kiss them both. obviously.

[transmechanicus]

Kind of hard to ask as anon

But you doing ok?

Need to vent?

Hi very kind and thoughtful of you to ask, i am doing mmmmm suboptimal but i do not need to vent to a person per se, so much as i need to say absolutely insane shit in my tags and have everyone pretend not to see <3

[soultek]

In Another Life - Bogard x Female!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

A/N: This actually started as much more based on the lyrics of this song than it ended up - I guess this wasn't exactly my intent! It was initially meant to be so much more angsty. But that's how you roll when you just let the characters point you in a direction when you're writing. Every point on my plan got covered - that's all that matters! 😁✌

ALSO this is the first work I've EVER had properly edited for me, so, thank you very much Josh! I appreciate you taking the time to read this! [You don't know what you've got yourself in for agreeing to do more... haha! 😈]

The format editing on Tumblr broke me. So you get what you get below and I'm very sorry but I just could NOT anymore... You'll see it because it is very SPECIFICALLY one sentence that Tumblr seems to find issue with - so now that's just a random paragraph by itself in the middle of a conversation.

Disclaimer: Only the reader character is mine. He's kinda pieced together using elements of his anime counterpart because hell yeah I went back and watched those episodes for further characterisation. Nothing I've used is spoilers. The origami thing is original - but that's only because I've seen a ton of [fan] art of him with birds and I was like "Is this a thing? I need to include it somehow!" Turns out the birds are just a Marine HQ thing - but I liked the idea so I've kept it!

The 'backstory' is also originally because we don't know a whole lot about him yet in either media... sooooo...

Warnings: innuendo, sexual connotations, mention of injury, smoking, mild swearing, mild plot-relevant OOC.

Premise: HQ 3 is back in town. And for you, that ship brings a lot more with it than just injured marines. You're prepared for the usual push and pull this 'situationship' brings. You might not be so prepared for the other news he has for you...

Word Count: 7906

Song Inspo: Another Life - Tenille Arts

Full Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/29SKzlmL31pHFk54BwnO7k

--- Cause I don't wanna kiss anybody else's lips I don't wanna feel anybody else's touch I just wanna be the old you and me We'd be married, have a house and kids by this time In another life

In another life I would get to kiss you goodnight Hold your hand, play with your hair, feel your arms around me Giving me the best hug Yeah, we'd be so in love

In another life

I wouldn't have to kiss anybody else's lips I wouldn't have to feel anybody else's touch We could just be the old you and me We'd be married, have a house and kids by this time And you'd be here tonight In another life

---

Nothing new. That was how you would describe the day. Sitting in your office working through the papers of every Marine coming in and out of your ward; you weren’t sure you knew what busy was anymore. It seemed to be the same all the time - with very little variation in the amount of work you had to do day-to-day - sometimes you just had to work on them faster. With more and more to do for the Marines on the front lines, and with seemingly every other person declaring themselves to be a 'Pirate' these days, at least things were never dull - that you could count on. Today, another ship arrived, apparently with a lot of injured Marines on board, given how many new papers you had stacked up on your desk. You sat back in your chair and blew out a breath. You were glad at least none of these new patients appeared to be in any serious condition. The most interesting thing to you was the newly docked ship's designation: HQ 3. You regarded the papers again, and began to rifle through them slowly. He hasn’t said anything, you thought. Figures. There could be a reason for that, of course… he could be in here. You dared not go through them too quickly to find out. These days he had no reason to tell you, either.

Marking another case as not urgent, you became aware of a sudden clamouring outside your office. Back and forth yelling that sounded more like panic. So much for hiding away... Pushing yourself up from your desk, you opened the door and leaned against the frame, poking your head out into the corridor. Several nurses and doctors were running between rooms, each and every one worked for you now. Which meant that when you called out to them, they stood to attention. "What's going on out here!?" "Nothing we can't handle." "Oh, I have no doubt - is everything okay?" "Some of the new inpatients have a flair for the dramatic is all M'am!" You chuckled, folding your arms, and touched your head to the doorframe too. "Sounds right. Maybe we should give them something to be dramatic about!" You cracked a grin. "If sedative is necessary, get that going - but nothing appears serious. I don't want anyone else on the ward panicking or getting distressed though. Try to get them to keep it down." You winked. "Else I’ll be forced to tell them to, and I'm pretty sure they won't want that."

The small group who had paused to listen to you nodded along, before almost shying away from you, and retreating into the rooms they had come from. You were about to ask why – unless they were scared you were about to force something more upon them yourself – before your question was answered for you. "Oh, I don't know about that." You couldn't have stopped the smile spreading across your face if you'd tried. Not at the sound of that voice. You turned your head to him slowly. HQ 3 meant Garp, and the Vice Admiral brought with him his right-hand man, who was now staring back at you with something of a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

Bogard was leaning against the wall right outside your door, letting it support his full weight, right arm held across his body, left hand raised to his chin. If you'd have bet on that stance, you might have won. He had a nasty habit of just appearing like this, but you would never be one to complain about that.   You let your eyes linger on him as you drew them up and down his body. You could pretend it was for your deduction, but you both knew better. "What are you doing here? You don’t look injured to me.” His dark eyes swept the ward, which now hosted a group of Marines from the ship he sailed on. “Where he goes, I follow.” He started. “And, if I leave the ship here, I get to see you. So, it’s not all bad. Guess we’ll be staying while we stock back up, do repairs,” he paused briefly. “The usual.” You bit back the words you really wanted to say. "Doesn't sound so bad. Guess you'll be wanting the recent discharge list?" "You read my mind." "I know you!" You let that statement linger before adding, "all business. Let me get you that list."

You withdrew back into your office, gathering the papers of cleared Marines now waiting to be assigned back onto any ships that were currently docked who were in need of recruits. Much to your surprise you found your hands were shaking. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves; maybe you were more excited about this encounter than you anticipated. To say your relationship with the man standing outside your door was complicated would be an understatement. Something along the lines of a long distance, long term situationship might sum it up best - but they were just a few words that meant nothing to the history of it.

You had been a cadet when you'd first met him. He was a few years older than you. Back when Bogard was just finding himself in the Marine's. It was obvious to you then how fast he was going to climb the ranks. You'd been friends since day one - well, almost. Once you'd graduated your cadet training and had chosen to be stationed as part of the medical division, you began to realise just how injury prone and stubborn he was. At least that was the way he always presented himself to you. The number of times early on you'd found yourself patching up his gashes and wounds with him insisting they were just scratches were innumerable. You found yourself very quickly worried about him in ways that went beyond mere friendship. And the next time he'd done it had been your final straw. You couldn't recall your confession exactly, but you did remember that it came out in the middle of a heated ramble. You had been in tears – you were mad at him for getting hurt, and you were crying because you didn’t want to lose him. Fixing him up that time quickly led to a first kiss, and soon after a relationship. But it didn’t last.

Although he would never tell the story that way, the truth was at that point Bogard had been just dumb enough to make sure he always got an injury, so he had an excuse to stop by and see you, but smart enough to make sure he was never in any real danger. He had mellowed out a lot since then - he was so much more serious and careful now - especially with the responsibilities he had. Man, the more you thought about it, the more you realised just how much time had passed... You carried just as many responsibilities yourself now, but could you say that you didn't still worry about him? No - but he was always so far away that you couldn't allow yourself to dwell on it too much. The 'see you when I see you' was fine if he was going to turn up at your door looking as pristine as he did today. Bogard knew what he was doing - he wouldn't be Garp's second in command if he didn't. You trusted that you had no reason to worry about him. Not even on the Grand Line. If he did ever come back injured - you didn't want to think too much about it - you knew you'd go above and beyond. If anyone had ever been curious about what you were, then that scenario would probably hold all the answers. Though while that wasn't happening, it was fine as a mystery.

He hadn't moved an inch when you returned with the stack. "Here you are, unless I should be giving these to the Vice Admiral?" Bogard took the papers in a way that suggested which was wisest; to him. You held your hands up to indicate that was well noted. "Just let me know who stays and who goes so I can update my records." He flipped through them quickly. "Of course. I suppose it will depend on how many we want that aren't cadets." "Cadets? I mean there might be some fresh faces there, but they will come with a little experience." "Might need that where we're going." This time it was his right hand held to his chin as he moved to answering your question quickly. "Yes, cadets. We're training them." "You're training cadets?" You could see it, actually. He'd be good at that - tough but fair. His captain too. "Lucky cadets." Bogard placed the papers in his pocket. His expression seemed to suggest that might not be the phrase he'd use. He looked up and passed you, studying the corridor and listening to the activity you'd just set in motion, before turning his attention fully back to you. "The whole ward, huh?" "It'll be the whole medical centre soon." "So I hear. Never in doubt when it comes to you." You looked away bashfully - voice quiet. "Thank you." "Still, you could be out on a ship as the main doctor. A HQ ship even. You're plenty good enough." You made a noise, but didn't want to look like you were laughing at his suggestion. "Despite being a Marine, I still prefer dry land. I'm comfortable here. I enjoy my work! I’m even about to be promoted. Where do you go once you're a ship doctor for a HQ vessel?" "It would be worth it for all the places you would see,” he continued. “The prestige." You knew where this was headed, and turned it back on him as quickly as you could. "And you, what about when they call you to World Government bureaucracy and pen-pushing, and you spend more time in a building than you do on the open ocean?" You asked. Bogard made a face like he was considering it, but you knew he wasn't. “Right now, I would probably decline such a position.” he huffed. “I think I have much to learn before I go there." “Uh huh." You knew that, how could you not? Just like he knew you didn't want to be out at sea. No matter how many times he would try to persuade you out there every time he saw you.

That was the point you had known it wouldn't work out. You wanted him safe with you, whereas he wanted you to go travelling the world with him. Neither would comprise. And so, every time you met, you would dance around this question again. Asking without saying 'why aren't we together, really?' in a different way every time. The reality was you'd both chosen your preferred lifestyles and your work over each other. But you weren’t about to admit that out loud, and Bogard wasn't either. So, here you stayed.

To make sure this didn't get too heavy immediately, you cleared your throat and changed the subject. "I heard you were in the East Blue?" He gave a short nod, but instead of offering any more information, he hit back with a rumour of his own. You couldn't say you was surprised that he would keep his official work a secret - such the man he was these days. You knew you'd get it out of him eventually. Though it might take something a little less... professional... "I heard you were with some captain." Try as he might to hide it, Bogard let his emotion seep into his voice. It was obvious who and what he was referring to, and he wasn't happy about it. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from teasing him about being jealous - that wouldn't end well. And what with where you were right now, you had to be very careful what you let slip, just in case of any prying eyes and ears. And you also knew that Bogard knew he had no right to be jealous - regardless of the truth. Still, this was one thing you wouldn’t tease him about. Reassurance was the only way forward. "Rumours fly.” You dismissed. “That was never a thing." Which was true, after all, you still only had eyes for the man in front of you. Despite the fact that there had never been a conversation about it between you. You could date someone else. You just weren’t sure if Bogard believed you, especially as you didn't know how long he had been holding onto that knowledge for. You knew how much he valued the truth though, so lying would have been unwise at best. “I’d never do that.” you continued. To you, you thought. But you left that part off. You were met with the same steady look he'd been regarding you with throughout this whole conversation so far. You sighed, glancing behind you back down the ward - all seemed calm right now. They knew how to reach you if they needed your help. Turning back to him, you offered a gentle smile. "Care to take a walk with me?" He pushed himself away from the wall with a smile. Turning across, he offered you his arm - ever the gentleman. You smiled back sweetly, wrapping yourself around him, and allowing yourself a moment to admit in your mind just how much you'd missed him.

For a while there was silence, but it was comfortable and more relaxed. You both knew you wouldn’t be able to stray very far. It'd be more like a walk around the block, but it was still away from unwanted attention. He watched you closely. You carried yourself and your rank well. You coped with the pressure of it all. You could handle yourself. You just wouldn't answer the call to open ocean. It seemed strange to him, but he admired how sure of yourself, and your convictions you were. He would not change your mind, no matter how much he wanted to. Still, there was something about the rumour that was bothering him. It wasn't that Bogard thought you were lying - of course you wouldn't. You knew how much he disapproved of it. It was the subject of the rumour that hurt Bogard most. Of all the people that rumours could fly about with you, not him, but someone else? Someone who must have seen you far less than Bogard did… at least he would hope so. People were aware you had been something once. Was it so hard to believe that you might be making it work again? Bogard put in the work even when he was so far away. There were more than enough reasons to conclude that he was still with you. In many ways, he wanted to be asked. Even if he went against his principles and denied it. Though, given you weren't technically a couple, it wasn’t technically lying. He hated how much it caused him to wonder if you had ever been with anyone else ever since you broke up. If Bogard couldn't even get a rumour going, but someone else could? It bothered him that he could get wrapped up in such a way. You weren’t his. But the exclusivity was an unwritten rule. It was expected that you would always be able to return to each other like this. That didn't mean if either of you fell in love with someone else… Surely you had both expected the other to have moved on by now. You both should have moved on by now! It hadn’t been months after all; it hadn’t even been a few years. It was closer to decades, and here you both were. Bogard just didn't want to hear it being discussed. He wasn't sure what heartbreak would feel like; but he didn't want to know either way. And he hated even more that, after all this time, if he lost you for good, he knew his heart would break.

The silence from him wasn't something that you thought was particularly unusual - Bogard was notoriously a man of very few words.  Though you often wondered what ran through that head of his; but someone had to keep Garp in check, so you knew his mind was sharp at least. They seemed like complete opposites - which, you thought, made them perfect for each other. Walking with him this close around the medical centre was enough for you right now. It was nice getting used to his presence again. Even if you knew you'd have to let him go soon. And too soon at that. Glancing over to him, you recognised Bogard’s look was a little further away than you had expected. Realising that you wanted those gorgeous brown eyes back on you, you broke the silence. If he was in his head about this stupid rumour - which you wouldn't be surprised if the Marine Captain had started and stoked himself - then you knew what he needed to hear. And if he felt the truth was so important, he was about to get some. "I have to say, I'm not entirely sure why you're so worried about that rumour. It's me who should be thinking about things like that. Why, I bet you have a girl in every port!" It was clearly a joke, but his look was a little too sharp - Bogard clearly took offence to the idea he was worried. Even if he was. Luckily, his expression quickly softened. "Guy on every ship." He quipped back. You gasped, ready to take full offence to that. "That's way worse than the rumour! Stop it! What do you take me for!? At least mine could happen!" You weren’t stupid - he was a good-looking man. Loyal, dedicated; an old-fashioned romantic. Work-driven sure, but you'd seen other women fall for him. All it would take was for him to find one who he could fall for too, who would share in his dream and actually want to travel the world on a ship with him as a Marine. It scared you a little how easy it was for you to imagine that he could be in a very happy relationship right now. Bogard raised an eyebrow. Surely you didn't believe that, he thought. And if you did, how wrong you were. Surely the ridiculousness of his own statement only highlighted the ludicrousness of your own? How untrue it was? For you though, it was clear you had a point. Besides, what did he have to be worried about? Who would you date anyway? It wasn't like you were about to pick up a guy at a bar or something. "Nearly all the men I see around here are either sick or injured." You protested. He shrugged, and when he doubled down, you were glad you could hear the jokey tone to his voice. "All the more time to get to know them then." "Please." You scoffed, pushing his arm a little. "Besides, you're the only one writing to me, and making me origami, so..." He stopped so abruptly, but you were ready for that. Halting to measure his reaction. He looked across to you curiously. You never wrote him back; he didn't expect you to. Bogard smiled - for once a little wider than usual. Possibly more of a smirk. "Like those, do you?" He teased. You allowed yourself to blush under the weight of his look. The bolstered confidence in him at your words, and then your admittance. "Maybe a little too much."

Despite the jokes you made, it was barely covering up what you really meant - bringing to light exactly what you were both most worried about. And the ego-boosting rush of hearing that it wasn't true. The real truth was no matter how nonchalantly either of you said goodbye - see you later - neither of you wanted to see the other with someone else. Neither of you would like it very much. The difference was you were quite prepared for the possibility of that eventuality. Bogard was not.

Once you had made the full circle and wandered back to your office, you resumed much the same positions as you had before. Although closer and more comfortable this time. Once the ice had thawed a little, you were now acting more as friends. (As if that was all you were.) Where you could get him to smile a little, and if you were very, very, very lucky, you might even get a huffed laugh out of him. Although he did have one last piece of official business to pass by you. He pulled some rolled-up papers out of his Marine coat. "You asked about the East Blue before." He started. "I did." You straightened your relaxed posture a little. Assuming you wouldn't have to do any work to get a candid answer this time. "We were there chasing around a new upstart young group of Pirates." He continued. "Another group?!" You very nearly rolled your eyes; you’d lost count of the crews popping up all over the place over the years. HQ 3 seemed a little overkill, though. "You guys? Really?!" Bogard shook his head. "Understandable reaction. But this crew has potential." He held the roll out to you. "May I request you put these up around the wards?" You looked from the roll to him and back and took it gently. "These upstarts already have bounties?" You asked. "Their captain does." He replied. You continued to stare at him questioningly, but when all he did was stare back, you knew the answer was on the paper itself. You unravelled them and almost let out a laugh.

'Monkey D. Luffy' - the name explained everything. You looked back at Bogard with an amused expression and raised eyebrow. Bogard merely shook his head, expression in understanding of your reaction. 'Let's not go there!' "Sure. I'll put these ones up! That's quite the bounty for the East Blue though! Who'd he piss off!?" You walked back into your office to put it with your unfinished pile of admission checks. This time Bogard followed you, standing in the doorway. "Nezumi.” He replied. “Oh, that weirdo? With the rat face?” You circled your head with your finger. “Rat would certainly be one way to put it.” You couldn’t help your perhaps overly loud reaction. “Oooh! Ooooh. Ooh! Would you like me to tell him that next time I see him?” Bogard placed his hands either side of your door frame, leaning in a little.  ‘Oh yeah you would badmouth me like that!,’ he thought - instant reaction - mouth opening before he changed his mind. Returning to a more relaxed lean, and crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t waste my breath.” You whistled. “Damn! You got a mouth on you.” Sharp as the blade he carried - when he wanted to be. But perhaps also a sign of how close you were, that he would speak as freely as this. Instead of responding, he opted to watch you with his eyes narrowed. You chuckled. “No, I know you. I know that you don’t waste your words.” Pausing for thought, you placed the papers down slowly. Raising your eyes to the window, you mused. “I guess I feel honoured that you share so many of them with me.” “Writing letters is completely different.” He replied. You looked across to him; voice sweet, and smile gentle. “That’s not what I meant.” Bogard bit his lips together, unsure of a comeback. Instead he wound the conversation back, nodding to the poster you just placed down. “Highest bounty on the East Blue now, actually. Doubt he'll stay there though." He said. "Ah. Grand Line bound!" You replied inquisitively. For a while the whimsy of it all had you smiling, until your smile dropped in realisation. If HQ 3 had been chasing them around the East Blue? You looked back to him slowly. Was Bogard going to follow them around the Grand Line? How long would that take? How long would it be until you saw him again? Even he knew he didn't have the answer to that. As he'd stated - where Garp went, he did. No questions asked. Still, Bogard couldn't leave it like that. He felt compelled to reassure you. "Of course, we might not follow them. We had investigations going on before they arrived on the scene." You remembered. "What now then? You really think you'll be back to 'Baroque Works'?" "We were heading that way anyway. I don't see why that would change now." He shrugged. "Doubtless you'll find out when I write to you!" You chuckled, running your fingertips over the picture in the wanted poster. A new kid on the block in a straw hat? Generations had seen this before.

Silence fell for a moment, which allowed him time to look around your office. Then he really couldn't help but smile. Lined up along the window frame, and just about every spare space on your shelves were collections of intricate origami. Bogard had sent you every single one of them. His preference was birds of different shapes, sizes, and colours. But they were all there. Every letter he had sent you came with one, and he'd sent you a letter every time he felt he had something worth saying. Writing back wasn't the point of it. He could guarantee that no one else knew where these came from. Whether you made them or they just appeared. But they weren't there for anyone else to know about - they were there for you. And every time Bogard saw them he wondered how the hell he could ever let himself get worried about any feelings you might have for anyone else. He looked back to you - having finished studying the picture of Luffy, you were now watching him - and Bogard knew he'd been caught with a rare smile on his face. He let it bleed into his words. "You kept them all." It wasn't a question, and his heart swelled. You giggled, pulling a box draw out from the top of your desk. "Honey, you have no idea!" From within it spilled forth letters upon letters, all wrapped up in Marine paper and blue ribbon. You had kept every single one of them too.

It was a little later in the day, as you were finishing up another round of administering medication, when you returned to your office and found that another Marine had made himself comfortable there. And not the one you would have expected. "V-Vice Admiral!" You stood to attention as he rose from your chair, "Sir! How can I help you?" "At ease, please!" His smile was warm, "In fact it's me that I think can help you!" He held out the stack of papers you'd given Bogard earlier. "I trust my second in command’s judgement on these." You took them gratefully. "Of course. I'll make sure everyone is prepped and ready to cast off when you're ready to set sail, Sir." "Better make it sooner rather than later, Lieutenant.” Garp placed his hands in his pockets, expression serious. "I don't want to be hanging around for too long. We have much to get started on." "Oh- I see." You knew you was failing at hiding your look of disappointment. Letting go was never easy, but if you had to do it sooner than you expected? You'd only just got Bogard back - you weren’t ready to let him go again just yet. Garp could see it on your face. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen Bogard interact with you before. They'd stopped off here plenty of times. He'd just never pried into the private life of his second in command before. But something was clearly going on this time. If he hadn't thought so before. He indicated to the origami on your shelves. "I always wondered where these went. Clearly, Y/N, they all come to you!" Your eyes widened. You didn't even know anyone else knew Bogard made them. "Y-yes, when he writes he always sends..." You gestured to the shelves, wondering if you'd said too much. Did Garp know that he... wrote to you? "Would have thought writing was his preferred method of communication. I know he’s a man that’s concise at best.” he continued. “Though he never seems to have that problem around you. Which is something in itself." You knew you was blushing by now, and you couldn't quite meet the Vice Admiral’s eyes. What he was saying was by no means untrue. "He's not always been like that." You were lying and you knew it. But you had to say something. You had no idea what Garp did or didn't know, or what Bogard would even want his superior to know! "Mhm." You weren’t sure that response was convincing enough. "Can't help but wonder exactly what's going on between you two." he enquired. Dammit! You were definitely turning redder now. "He-" You paused. Then took a deep breath, locking eyes with Garp this time. "We were once a couple, yes. But, we went our separate ways due to our own work preferences." You gave a shrug, realising how sad you suddenly felt as you smiled. "He wouldn't stay. I wouldn't go." "...Shame." Garp nodded. "From what I’ve heard, you have enormous potential. Definitely something we could use out there." You bowed deeply. "Those are kind words, Sir. Thank you. But it was never what I wanted. The front line isn't for me, and I would be outright useless in a fight. I'm no field medic." "We could change that." He interjected. You laughed. "I hear you're training cadets?" You weren’t sure you wanted to go back to that, weren’t sure how you would act being trained by them, honestly. "With all due respect Sir, many have tried and at this point I think I'm fine being a competent medic, and a pathetic fighter. I barely scraped through weapons training, and I decided that I would never want to handle one again! At least not by choice." "Competent would not be the word I'd use." He took a few steps forward, causing you to stiffen your posture. "Brilliant, maybe." He tilted his head. "Funny you should say that and be going off with a swordsman." You gaped for a minute. "We-Well I--" You tried to compose yourself. "That was always Bogard's thing." Your laugh was nervous. "Though I admit I can't help but be fascinated. I notice that people are intimidated by him without him even having to draw. So, once he does?" It was hot. It made you feel a little something something, and you'd never really seen him in action in a real fight.

Though of course you were not about to mention this to Garp.

"Well, there's always room on my ship. If you want this to be something more.” He paused for a brief second. “Intimate again." Garp's stare was intense. "I do hope you'll consider it, Y/N." You swallowed hard. Intimate? As if you weren't still--- "A HQ ship would be an incredible honour, Sir. I…” you paused. “Surely will consider it." "Glad to hear it." he replied enthusiastically. Garp swept past you, but stopped at the door. "I have no doubt you'll have the Marine's prepped and ready for our departure. I do suggest if you want to spend any more time with my second, you get as much of it in as possible." Even if you couldn't see him, you could hear the amusement and smirk in his voice. "Should I send him back up to your office, Y/N?" You opened your mouth, but found you couldn't answer before he walked away laughing.

Next thing you knew you was back in the arms of your situationship - under the sheets.

***

Despite what Bogard and Garp had said, it was nice for them to stick around for a little while. It reminded you that you shouldn’t get your hopes up that it would be permanent. But it gave you a taste you couldn’t help but crave. He really was all yours here. And you could pretend you were somewhere in the past, thinking about this as your far-off future. One where neither of you had ever put anything above the other. Breaks were rare when you had work to do, but right now, you also couldn’t afford to spend any free time anywhere else.

Bogard was sitting on the steps to the medical wing when you found him. Hunched over what could only have been a lighter, given the small smoke trail.

You sighed gently, folding your arms and shaking your head. Taking the steps slowly towards him - it wasn’t like you were about to sneak up on the swordsman, he knew your footfall well enough by now - it still didn’t cause him to extinguish his smoke. You stopped on the step above the one he was sitting on. Two heavy steps down, to let him know you were less than impressed, hands moving to your pockets as you bent slightly over him - feeling all at once like a doctor scolding your patient. (Well, it wasn’t like you hadn’t already had the opportunity to check his full physical health at this point.) “You know those aren’t good for your health, right?” You started. As if to mock you, he took a long deliberate drag. “Trust me, if you were on my ship, you would need these to relax too.” He replied. You narrowed your eyes. “Oh no, Mister. No using your captain as an excuse!” ���He’s a damn good one.” He protested. Another drag, before he removed it from his lips, but he didn’t put it out. You leaned yourself a little closer to him, lowering your voice – positively saccharine. “Don’t worry, you can order me around!” Bogard raised a hand to his mouth slowly, and coughed. You waited with a smirk on your face for him to take the bait. “Don’t tempt me.” Bogard gave his voice the appropriate stern edge. You had the cheekiest little grin on your face, and hummed like you were a little too happy with yourself for that one. He gave you enough time to bask in it, before looking back to his smoke. “You’re going to ask me to stop, right?” You folded your arms, sighing. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record. You know my spiel by now.” Bogard gave a single nod of agreement. “You’ve never quite got me to quit yet. I think by now you’d know it wasn’t going to happen.” His eyeline had remained level until that moment, but he looked up at you now. “How’s work?” He asked. “Nothing changes…” You shrugged. “But I do have five minutes.” You took the next step down and sank to sit with him. Bogard’s smile was gentle, no matter how obvious it was that you would choose to spend your precious free time with him when he was around, it didn’t make it any less significant of an act.  “Smoke?” He held it out to you. “Ha!” You liked that he smiled at your sarcasm though, his eyes back on whatever he was watching before. “What are you-?” Bogard nodded forward, then pointed, you followed his fingertip down to the beach. Upon it were Garp, and two marines whom he looked like he was giving a stern talking to. “Oh! Your cadets?” “Mhm.” “And you’re up here because?” He scoffed. “Please, you think they’re ready to take me on yet?” You almost rolled your eyes as he took another drag, making sure to blow the smoke away from you. “I can take on both of them using only my less dominant hand. It’d be hardly worth their time either. What does it teach them? Something they aren’t ready for?” You couldn’t help the smirk that toyed with your lips. “Do you have one of those?” “One of what?” He enquired. “A less dominant hand?” You teased. You couldn’t look at him, because you knew you’d crack - but you knew the kind of stare he was giving you, before he jogged your shoulder. “Stop.” You couldn’t help the quick burst of laughter you let escape.

You continued to watch the two young men train with Garp for a while. And eventually you let yourself unwind enough to lean up against his shoulder. It was funny how much more you felt his body sink into relaxation below yours after that. And he put his smoke out too. He was content to sit with you like this. Yes. This was exactly what you dreamed of. Even if you couldn’t say you missed Bogard often (you were far too busy working here to do much of anything!), at least you didn’t let yourself and your thoughts linger on that feeling for too long. This physical contact was exactly what you needed. His letters could cover almost everything else, letting you know he was okay and that you didn’t have to worry. It was exactly what made this work without it having to be a relationship. But they couldn’t hold you. They couldn’t replace his touch. Your eyes lowered to his hands. It was weird for you to think just what they were capable of. He could be so gentle, but his swordsmanship? Just how many lives had Bogard taken with the exact same hands that held you the way he did? You sank your teeth into your lip as you frowned. You could think these things all you liked. Right now you just wanted to hold them - that’s what you knew for sure.

Bogard regarded your body language. Even when you weren’t looking at him, he knew what you desired. It didn’t matter how damn long you had been away from each other. At this point, it was simply muscle memory. You could both say whatever you wanted. Sometimes he wondered if being “single” really was the easiest option for you. It sure sounded like it. But he knew how it complicated things. How it twisted your feelings. Maybe you couldn’t make it work together. But you couldn’t make it work without each other either. Bogard knew you were thinking about how this could be your life. How could you not be? He was thinking it too – and by now he knew you better than you knew yourself.

He moved his hand from his knee, extending it towards yours - palm up - still watching your reaction. You hesitated; too shy to look at him now. Bogard knew, of course he knew. At this point he might as well have been a mind reader. Your movements were slow and deliberate. You took his hand gingerly; lacing your fingers together. Before moving your other to fit his hand between yours. He watched you do this with a smile, before pulling your hands gently back into his lap. You made a small noise before burying your face in his shoulder; surely blushing now. He focused back on the beach, running his thumb over the back of your hand. Yes - this was worth coming back for. Even if accepting the way you otherwise lived meant he sacrificed this to miss you the rest of the time. And if neither of you would move to give that up, you always would.

*** Seeing him off came all too quick. His return seemed but a fleeting moment - a heartbeat, and you were having to let him go again. The thing that stopped you from letting this be anything more than it was. But you were kidding yourself. You were in a relationship. The code; the unwritten rule, the exclusivity of it. There'd never been anyone else. Neither of you were calling it that, though. Neither of you referred to each other as ‘Partners', or ever enquired if it would be like that again. Everything but in name. Yet you would continue to tell yourself this was for the best - and that you wouldn't hurt for a little while as he sailed off into the distance.

Everyone around you on the dock was moving fast, getting final-final preparations done before they set sail. For the two of you, time was virtually standing still. Your hands were in his, and right now all you wanted was for them to stay there as long as possible. As tradition stated, you both had one more try in you - one more line of persuasion before the same conclusion would be reached, and you went your separate ways once again. Bogard leaned into you. That small near smile on his lips that reflected so much more brilliantly in his eyes. And in that moment the light was hitting them just right; illuminating that brown colour in a million beautiful shades. His voice was soft and sweet - as if this time he was really pulling out all the stops. "You should come with us.” he said. “We could always use a doctor." You chuckled, shaking your head. But you were grinning. You couldn't help but smile brilliantly at the way he was making you feel. Of course he was still trying to get you to go with him, despite already knowing your answer. You had to admire that spirit – every single time. "My place is here." You said firmly. You bit your tongue between your teeth cheekily for a moment, before teasing back with. "You could always stay." It was Bogard's turn to chuckle. "You know I can't do that." Your head tilted. 'Exactly'.

But he kept leaning, and you weren’t about to stop him. Now might have been the time to be professional. But it was also the exact time to be unprofessional. You pushed yourself up to meet him in a goodbye kiss. Both of you probably expected it to be short and sweet, but then again neither of you were pulling away - content to stay in it. You couldn't take it anymore, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He reciprocated, hands on your waist pulling you into his arms. At some point someone whistled. You felt him laugh, but he didn't pull back – Bogard just kept kissing you. Not even with the thought in his head that he was doing this in public. A little harder, edge a little more possessive of you. There was something in this kiss meant to completely destroy the idea that there was, or ever would be, anyone else, ever. Even when you were merely joking about it, even when he was too. You surrendered to it, and to him, completely.

Back on the ship, Helmeppo has spotted what was happening on the docks below. And if he was surprised by the kiss in the first place, the fact that it was going on - the stoic second in command swordsman that Bogard was? The guy who wore a perpetual frown most of the time! This wasn't happening - in fact it was beyond being seen to be believed! It was a ‘pinch me I must be dreaming’ moment. He smacked Coby - who was only oblivious because he was working - perhaps a little too hard. But he didn't care, and threw his other hand just to check that he wasn't the only one seeing this! The smaller cadet also couldn't help but stop and stare, almost gaping.

Garp watched the scene with a shake of his head, and a laugh. Sometimes it was good to be right!

Eventually you both had to pull back, if for nothing but a need to breathe. But you kept close. Your fingers gripped his Marine coat tight as you held him close to you. His head dipped to yours. Bogard kept his arms wrapped around you. You closed your eyes and tried your best to hold back your tears. "Stay safe." You whispered, emotion flooding your voice. "I don’t want to see you back here anything less than immaculate.” “Stay safe too." His voice was equally emotional, strained against the proper tone he was trying to emulate. "Don’t take any shit.” You pulled slightly back from him, laughing. “You come back to me.” "You know where we're going. I can't make any promises. But…" He relinquished your warmth none too fast, reassuring you. "I always do."

You stood for a moment like that, unsure where to go from here. You couldn't help it, pulling him back for one more kiss goodbye - and much shorter, to your own dismay. Before drawing your hands to the centre of his chest, fussing with his Marine coat for a second, and making certain to pull it straight, ensuring that the emblem presented itself dead centre. If you were going to tell him to be immaculate when he returned, you damn well weren’t sending him away if he was anything less! "You tell those other girls..." You laughed, unable to finish the joke. "Tell them what?" "They c- can't have—y-!” You kept laughing through it. “I can't even finish that thought." You grinned, putting it another way instead. "You're mine." He shook his head at you. "Always was." Before bowing low, "Until next time, Y/N." Bogard left you with a smile, and with that, began walking a few feet to the ship’s gangplank. You called after him, "I'm already looking forward to that letter!" He nearly laughed.

Upon boarding, Helmeppo and Coby still hadn't got over the scene. Staring at him almost in awe - definitely with a million questions for the man helping to train them. It took just one look, a single stare to swear both of them to eternal silence. Maybe they would get their answers one day. Maybe he would want to talk about it. Right now, Bogard wasn't sure. He did know he considered it private, no matter how passionate and public his goodbye was to you.

You stood back, listened to him shouting commands to get the ship running with a smile on your face. Just like that he was in his element again. He was working now. He was the second in command to a Vice Admiral. 'That's my man.' For a moment, you wondered if you should have asked. You’d still never had a concrete conversation around being officially together again. You supposed it was as unsaid as the exclusivity. The illusion that you would both still be single; until the time you met again. But what was more official than 'Always was.'?

Whatever you were, you were content.

As the ship pushed away from the dock, Bogard appeared at the starboard side railing, offering a hand up gesture as a wave goodbye. You waved back enthusiastically. Glad to see him one last time before he sailed into the sunset. And here you would be the next time he was able to visit you. Because you would wait for him. And maybe one day, you’d give in to him. Or he would settle down with you.

Whoever’s will won out in the end, right now you knew one thing for sure. You didn't care if it meant you were together.

---

Two swordsmen down one to go! 🖤💚💛

Other OPLA Fics: 'Late to the Party - Roronoa Zoro x Reader

[telesodalite]

Sort of a ramble, sort of me just writing my thoughts out while I'm stuck with writer's block, but I keep thinking about how Fulcrum was in stasis for roughly 3 million years??

Like, that's a long time, even for Cybertronians. Not a really long time, not an entire lifespan. But still, it's a large chunk of a normal lifespan just gone. Poof.

One second you're crawling across the pockmarked terrain of an alien planet, surrounded by the sound of gunfire, and the shouting and screaming before and after each earth shuddering impact of another k-con hitting the ground. And then it's quiet. You're not there anymore. You're drifting somewhere between not alive and just asleep. Preserved somewhere in the background of a doomed body, ignored by time and space, still here, but also not.

And then there's sound. Not gunfire. Not shouting or screaming. Not the sounds that'll haunt you till your dying days, your own death sentence pounding in your head. No. Just voices, talking, standing out against a silent, dead world. Wondering. Joking. Bickering. Familiar. Just, not familiar to you. And you're awake. Pulled back from the nothingness you've been frozen in, consciousness tugged forwards with the yank of a fuel pump and the nearness of life.

These two moments are roughly 3 million years apart, but only minutes, maybe even seconds, to him. From a hectic harrowing battlefield, to an old silent graveyard in one blink.

How long did it take to really sink in? I mean, he seems to just roll with it. He doesn't seem particularly bothered. But like, what happened outside of what we see? How did he really feel?

Also, his body aged without him. While his mind preserved itself, freezing him as he was right then, his body was left to weather Clemency for all those years. No wonder it crumbled to dust when he jumped off the world sweeper. It's probably a miracle of some kind that it didn't just fall apart each time someone leaned on him.

And even after they rebuild him, give him a better, newer body. His spark, it's casing, all the irreplaceable core bits that make up their inner bodies, it aged in the time without him. Does he feel it? Does it make his body even more foreign to him?

Then he's also a technician with information that's 3 million years out of date. Lucky him that the scavengers probably weren't working with top of the line material. But still it's gotta be weird when faced with anything brand new, because a lot can change and progress in 3 million years, and now some of the knowledge he once prided himself in is obsolete.

Besides those things, his view of the galaxy, of the war, of their kind, of other kinds, is one of the few things actually pointed out when it comes to him being stuck in the past. So, how often were his old views challenged? Facts of life he held close proved to no longer true? There's 3 million years worth of new science, new beliefs, new words, new terms, new views.

And sure, some of it can be familiar, because they're an ever evolving kind, and they have patterns, core beliefs, repeating behaviors, but a lot of it's gonna be unfamiliar at the same time, because it's 3 million years worth of catch up, it's not like missing last week's trend.

In a way, it makes him a living relic of a bygone era for Decepticons. It would've been really interesting to have had that explored a little more.

[starz4valen]

me when i realize the reason i dont feel like i can claim the term butch is cause i dont feel attractive enough

[beanghostprincess]

Let's say chocolate is a metaphor for traditional relationships that happen to appear good but are too sickly sweet for Sanji to handle and after WCI he ends up not liking chocolate. At least for a while. He needs to move on from what happened first. But he wants to force himself to like it because he should like chocolate. It is one of the most basic ingredients when making sweets and it is also everywhere.

So what if it makes him want to throw up? What if his stomach betrays him when cooking? What if he needs to stop every two seconds to breathe because his lungs don't work properly when he smells chocolate? He will keep trying and trying to make it work. Everybody loves chocolate, after all, he should too.

But then, one day, Usopp sees everything he has around the kitchen. Like. That's an awful lot of sweets and a disgusting amount of chocolate and he doesn't seem like he has slept in a week. So of course he is concerned. "Why- What's all of this about, Sanji?" He tries to hide his nervousness with a laugh.

Sanji grips the counter tighter. So much his knuckles turn white. "I- I don't know. I guess I was just. In the mood for chocolate." But he doesn't sound sure at all. In fact, he looks like he's about to cry.

"Well." He looks around the room without wanting to touch anything but approaching Sanji a bit to check on him. "Luffy can have all of my portions because I kind of... Not like chocolate?"

"You don't- You don't like chocolate?"

"No? Too sweet. I actually pretty much hate it? The smell already makes me ill."

"Me too."

"You what?"

"I think I don't- I don't think I like chocolate anymore. Is that- I don't know if I ever did. Is that alright?"

"Why wouldn't it be alright, Sanji? It's just chocolate. Nobody can force you to eat it. Or cook it if you really don't want to."

And Sanji realizes that maybe... Maybe it is alright for him to not want chocolate, and a wave of relief takes over him for a solid second.