#because I want to write with everybody more

[yelenasdiary]

3…2…1, Kiss Me

Pairing: CEO! Yelena Belova x Assistant Fem! Reader

Summary: Working on New Years Eve wasn’t exactly on your list of things to end the year with, but it definitely started the new year with something new. 

Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol consumption | 1.3K

AC: Happy New Year loves!!!! I hope this new year is exciting for you all! x

Holiday Special Masterlist

It was New Year’s Eve; most companies were still closed for the holiday season but not the one you worked for. Belova, a company that specializes in making high-quality tactical wear and supplying the U.S Army with everything from advanced combat uniforms and load-bearing vests to high-quality daggers. However, Belova is more than just a company. With your boss’s large range of connections, Belova also works as an organization, kind of like a spy operation. 

Your boss, Yelena, was kind enough to let everybody go home early today, only asking a few to come in till noon. Just because the world comes to a hold, those fighting in another country do not. You watched as your co-workers packed up their things and wished one another a happy new year as they left the office, you thought about leaving too but when you saw Yelena sipping her black coffee with a frown in her brows, you knew there was much more work to do than she originally led on. 

The room was eerily quiet, just the sounds of your fingers tapping along the keyboard as you continued to rename documents, send emails and occasionally printing off a document for your boss to sign. Outside, the city of New York was alive and patiently waiting to ring in the new year. 

Yelena, wandered out of her office, surprised to see you sitting at your desk with your air pods in and your eyes focused on the document you were writing up. “Y/n” she said, her voice breaking the silence of the room as she stood in front of your desk.

You quickly paused your music, taking out an earphone as you looked up at her. 

“What are you still going here?” She asked, checking her watch, “it’s almost 10pm!” She added in a slightly surprised tone. Time had flown by without her even noticing. 

“I promised you that I’d help you have anything wrapped up before the new year” you replied with a soft smile. Yelena studied you for a moment, wondering why on earth you’d give up your own time to help her. “I have a few documents here for you to sign, I wanted to just give them to you in bulk, so I didn’t bother you too much” you said, breaking the silence. 

Yelena smiled softly, “you’re too dedicated for your own good, you know that right?” She asked, admiring your dedication to her company. 

“I just really enjoy my job and besides, I don’t really have anything else to do” you replied, handing her a small pile of documents for her to sign. She took them kindly, “why don’t we take a break?” She suggested, “have you had anything to eat?” She asked. You shook your head, remembering the last thing you ate was some biscuits in the staff room. 

“I’ll go sign these, you order some food, order whatever you fancy, its one me” she insisted. You pulled out your phone and had a quick flick through the delivery app, “what about Thai?” You asked. 

“Sounds good!” She replied, her eyes sparkling as she turned on her heels and walked back into her office. 

Once the food had arrived, Yelena suggested the two of you enjoy a late dinner in her office. She poured you both a drink from her mini bar and put her computer to sleep, her entire attention was on you.

Her gaze softened as she looked at you, not very often did she feel her walls falling apart to allow somebody else other than family to see her soft side. “Tell me, if you weren’t here tonight, what would you be doing?” She asked, curious to know a little more about your life outside of work. 

“Honestly, I probably would’ve been curled up on the sofa binge watching a show until the countdown” you admitted, unbothered that most would find that somewhat sad. “What about you?” You asked, sipping your drink. 

Your boss grinned, “This. I would work” 

Your brows frowned softly, “why do you do that? I mean, why do you work so much that you barely have time to enjoy life?” You asked.

Little did you know that working as much as she did meant she got to be around you. She thought about all the time she stole a glance at you while you were too focused on your work to even notice she was admiring you from afar and all the times on your lunch break you’d bring her back a snack to assure she had eaten. Her growing feelings towards you scared her, she was your boss, and she didn’t want to do anything that would make her lose you, one of the best assets to her business.

Her soft smile faded, “it’s complicated” she started, “work is predictable, it’s something I understand. It’s a place where I have control, where most things make sense” she paused, her eyes struggling to look at you as she felt herself beginning to open up, “life outside of these walls feels, I understand it most of the time” she admitted. 

You noticed how the blonde was no avoiding eye contact with you, her words hanging in the air between you. “I understand that” you said, breaking the silence, “but sometimes the things that scare us is where the good stuff is” you leaned forward slightly, a soft smile playing on your lips, “work will always be here, life is limited. This company you’ve built from nothing will be around for many years after you’re gone” 

Finally, her eyes met yours once again. She noticed how her heart skipped a beat just looking into your soft eyes, she saw something in you that she’d never seen before. Words she wanted to let out trapped by her deep thought, her brows would furrow slightly when she thought about all the small things she never really had time to admire until now. 

“If work will always be here, why do you put in the extra hours?” She asked, trying to make sense of why you cared so much to make sure she wasn’t alone on such a night. 

“Well, I guess I’m no better” You chuckled lightly, God she loved seeing the way your eyes sparkled whenever you lit up. “Maybe that could be our new year’s resolution!” You suggested, “we should take this new year to have fun and enjoy life outside of these walls” you added. 

Yelena opened her mouth to reply when the faint, in sync chant of people began to count down from 10. You rose from your seat and wandered over to the large window behind Yelena’s chair, from her office you had a perfect view of the fireworks. Yelena, taking a brief moment to fight her inner thoughts finally joined you, standing beside you as she gently took one of your hands, making you turn to face her. 

“I don’t want to have fun and enjoy life outside of these walls without you” she admitted, taking you by surprise. 

5….

Your eyes scanned hers, wondering if she was messing around. She brought a hand to your cheek, “I know I’m your boss and I have so much respect for you so if this isn’t something you want, I’ll understand” she started, her thumb gently stroking your cheek. 

4….

“Yelena” you said in a low whisper. 

3….

You smiled softly, as you looked into her eyes. It wasn’t a secret to your friends that you had a small crush on your boss, but you never thought anything would happen between the two of you. 

2….

“Y/n” Yelena replied, matching your whisper. 

1….

“Kiss me” You said, not giving it another thought. 

Fireworks began to light up the sky as Yelena leaned forward, her eyes searching yours once more before pressing her lips against yours in a firm and confident kiss. Her lips sent a wave of electricity through you as you wrapped your arms around the back of her neck to deepen the long awaited kiss. 

Finally pulling away, you smiled softly against her lips. 

“Here’s to new beginnings” she said, her eyes sparkling with a newfound light.

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[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Bellara (and also the Veil Jumpers, and other random Elven things) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: the list isn't 100% exhaustive. I may have missed something or didn't write something down because I had heard about it before or considered it common knowledge. If you think there's something that can be added to the post, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from)

Other characters' posts: Davrin, the rest to be added later this week

About Bellara

Family and past:

Bellara’s mother is a woodworker who sells furniture in Orlais, and her father is an herbalist. He taught her about deadly plants (for her own safety)

Bellara didn’t tell her parents about Cyrian’s (second) death

Bellara once broke both of her arms while racing an Aravel 

Bellara learnt magic from her Keeper and later the Veil Jumpers, but she also studied a lot on her own by reading books and just trying things out

When she was little, Bellara wondered what it’s like to settle down instead of moving all the time (just like Davrin did) 

General:

Bellara can better focus on writing when she has background noise (like Rook talking)

Bellara likes tea (but can also drink coffee after she pulls an all-nighter, which seems to happen pretty often)

Bellara liked Lucanis’s grilled fish

Bellara didn’t know any Qunari recipes before joining the Veilguard

Bellara wouldn’t want to be an assassin, but she would be interested in taking lessons from Crows about assassination techniques

Bellara thinks that most people in Tevinter are condescending, even the nice ones 

Magic and life with the Veil Jumpers: 

Bellara once found an artifact that was basically an ancient elven mechanical toothbrush 

Bellara is a Veil Jumper because Arlathan is her home, and she can’t stand by and do nothing. Also, because of the artefacts

Part of the reason why Irelin and Bellara broke up is that Bellara became too consumed by studying/fixing artefacts 

Bellara and Davrin agree that the Veil Jumpers’ odds are even worse than the Wardens’

Bellara thinks that the ancient Elven magic feels cold

Bellara didn’t find anything on the Devouring Storm in the libraries or Circles. Vorgoth and Myrna never heard of it either 

Life at the Lighthouse: 

Bellara owns a bronze candleholder shaped like a fennec

Bellara thinks that the Fade in the Lighthouse is almost too calm compared to Arlathan

Bellara likes her space in the Lighthouse and feels like “it's been waiting for her”

The Archive sometimes stares at people who come by

Bellara eventually suggests that she and Lucanis completely take over the cooking. Everybody except for Harding dreaded any meal not cooked by them anyway and gleefully agreed

Antoine let Bellara borrow his compound for flaming arrows to see how it reacts in the Fade (she doesn’t speak about the results, but she used at least one compound for testing without incidents and later wants to borrow more) 

Relationships with companions: 

However, when Emmrich offers her to join the Mourn Watch, she turns him down saying that the Veil Jumpers need her. 

Bellara offers Davrin to listen about his findings regarding the Gloom Howler as he searches for the missing griffons, saying she's a good listener

Bellara asks Neve if she can become a Shadow Dragon and is very excited when she hears “Yes”

A writing inconsistency. Probably. 

Neve once saw Bellara poking around Assan, trying to figure out if he was real or some clever mechanical contraption 

Bellara wants to make pillows out of Assan’s molted feathers (but Davrin refuses because he finds it weird)

Bellara made dog biscuits for Assan (that Davrin accidentally ate the first time). The next time she brought a batch, she left them in a box labelled “Assan biscuits inside, do not eat.” Assan liked them!

Bellara once covered Assan in olive oil thinking it could improve his wind resistance and let him fly faster. Didn’t work. 

Bellara offers Emmrich to co-author a paper about ancient elves after they find out elves came from spirits

Bellara asks Emmrich about vampires multiple times. According to him, when a Hunger Demon possesses a corpse, the resulting abomination can seek out blood, sort of resembling a vampire. They can't turn into bats though

According to Neve, some magisters in Minrathous have tried bonding with Hunger Demons which resulted in them having immense power but also a craving for blood 

Bellara and Harding swap books for reading

Bellara gets into lifting using Harding's rocks

Bellara doesn’t think she needs to threaten Lucanis when she finds out he and Neve are dating because Neve could wipe the floor with him herself if she wanted (Lucanis agrees) 

Bellara is fine with Lucanis taking on Ghilan’nain’s contract (“Whatever we were worshipping, it wasn’t her") and cheered him on at Weisshaupt

Bellara asks Neve to beta-read her story

(If Neve and Rook are in romance) Bellara thinks that solving cases together is romantic

(If Neve leaves after Rook chooses to save Treviso) Bellara kept notes of everything that happened while Neve was away to help her adjust after she’s back

About the Veil Jumpers:

Bellara mentioned that a certain elf camped in some ruins, and one day woke up stuck in the clouds. The Veil Jumpers haven’t figured out a way to get them down, so they just send them food and water

Veil Jumpers use some of the artefacts they have recovered as weapons. However, they don’t use them often, since most of them need to be charged after one use, and nobody really knows how to do that 

Veil Jumpers eat whatever Arlathan Forest provides

Though Bellara also mentions she doesn’t forage in the forest anymore. Strife does, however, he always finds something edible

It’s hard to say how many Veil Jumpers are out there because people die/go missing/leave too often to keep a proper count

The Veil Jumpers once found an artefact that caused whoever activated it to get sucked into the Fade. One guy got trapped inside because he used it even if the others told him not to. Bellara is weirdly nonchalant about that whole thing

The Veil Jumpers once found something like an entrance to the Deep Roads on the Southern Edge of Arlathan Forest. The group that found it sealed themselves inside and destroyed the entrance, leaving a note telling the others not to enter. Davrin hypothesises it could be one of the pools similar to the one we saw in the Horrors of Hormak

Ritsivas from the Veil Jupmers is non-binary (mentioned by Harding in a conversation with Taash)  

Misc:

The power crystals are called “June'suledin'bellanaris'ena'ghilan'lasa'shiral”. You may infer the reasons everybody just calls them 'power crystals'

Not all traps in Elven ruins were originally meant to be traps, but their magic is old, so it doesn’t recognise modern people and can backfire. And sometimes magic just degrades over time and accidentally rips the Veil, summoning demons

Andruil’s Gauntlet is an ancient site meant to test hunters who want to wield the mightiest weapons. It’s filled with traps, and no one has made through it in ages. It was made by Andruil’s priests to test the warriors of Elvhenan 

Clans Nuvenis and Sabrae live in Ferelden. Harding’s village traded with the Sabrae in the past

[sangreprince]

Em's Big Long Sappy New Year's Post Under The Silly Cut©

Hey y'all, I wanna say thank you so much for sticking around this year. It's been a wild ride, and this blog has gotten WAY more love than I ever thought possible. I still have yet to start working on the big post I wanna do that shouts out all of my moots, but still I'm so incredibly thankful to all of you who have been here this whole time.

And I know this is supposed to be a positive thing, but I also want to be real for a second here. This year's been tough.

I don't talk about it a lot but I've been really struggling with stuff, and it's things I don't hear talked about a lot. So here goes. I wanna talk about some mental health stuff I've gone through and where I'm at now. Maybe it'll make somebody's 2025 easier than my 2024. It'll end when the orange lines do.

─────────

I'm not a terribly social person, I prefer one on one interactions much more because it gives me a lot more energy to give people and makes me a lot less anxious than group stuff. I have to be pretty exceptionally comfortable to reach the same level of comfort with a group that I can easily find with individuals. And this year what I've really come to understand is how that happens.

I find that when I introduce myself into a group setting, I compare myself to others a lot. And that really sucks. It's not fair to me, or the people around me. I think a lot of it comes from coming from a 'pull yourself up by the boostraps' type household where failure just isn't an option, and I still think I struggle with the idea that I'm 'failing' if I'm not the best at a certain thing. And if I compare myself with other people, I'm never ever gonna be the best at everything because naturally somebody else is gonna be better at some things than you.

For me this habit has been a really big issue in my relationships in 2024 because I've gotten more involved in friend groups. I don't think I'm over this bad habit, but here's what I've learned: You can't compare yourself to others, because you're not them.

You can't be everybody's best friend because people don't need that. I don't think I could even handle more than a few very close friends ( But I don't think I'm necessarily super 'close' with anyone as I think most people only see what I want them to see, and I have immense trouble with actually showing people every side of who I am just because I'm still struggling with feeling comfortable with being truly vulnerable around people and not comfortably vulnerable )

This is hard to admit even as I'm writing it, but I think deep down I learned this year that I have an intense need to prove myself to somebody that doesn't exist. An idea of this 'perfect' version of myself I've conjured up in my head. And to those close friends who've seen me lose it damn near self-flagellating myself because I wasn't the best friend somebody has or best player on the team: Thank you. For being honest with me. For grounding me and splashing the proverbial water on my face and taking me out of my own headspace. This kinda growth is hard, and overnight change is... Unrealistic at best but I try and take your grace and trust that you place in me every day and overcome one step at a time.

And I hope that one day, I can repay the kindness and patience you've shown me. I'm not used to having friends, frankly. I didn't have any, not really, until about 2019/2020. I've always been a recluse, somebody who shied from getting close to anyone as a consequence of abuse. This ( I theorize ) has affected me down to my sexuality, identity, and habits I've taken into other relationships. I've only had true, close friends for about four or five years of my life total.

I am not used to it. And I fear, at times, this is painfully obvious. So to those who I call close : Thank you. You are what keeps me going. You are what I work towards and what I carry with me. I hope that one day I can get out of my own head about this stuff, about this notion I feel to constantly prove myself in some way or another. And I want you all to know that you're the reason I'm determined to make this change, no matter how hard it is or how long it takes.

─────────

Anyway... Now for the shoutouts. This is less heavy than all of the above and in no particular order of significance as I'm just going off the top of my head: I would include everybody I love talking to but oh my god I would be here all day and besides y'all are getting that in the future anyways so. This is just the short list of personal thank you's!!!

@espelharr You, much like the radiant Viktor you write, have been a catalyst of change for me in a lot of ways. You've helped keep me honest, and been honest with me. We're pretty close and I'll admit, it makes me a little quiet and a little nervous because I'm really not used to having somebody I would consider a friend like that. You are among a very small group of people that I can confidently say I dearly trust. I admit it's kind of alien to me. I honestly don't know what to say with regards to it because I'm not entirely sure I've developed the social skills to develop a relationship beyond what we have.

In other words, you've maxed out my friendship meter and exhausted my dialog. Well, not actually. I never shut the fuck up and you know that perfectly well. I know we're both goin through out shit but if I could give you one gift as a token of my appreciation, it would be to let you see yourself for one minute how I see you every second of every day of every year that's to come.

And that's coming from somebody who has no idea of what's to come. But if you'll have me, I'd like to be a part of it. Through thick and thin, wind rain and snow.

Thank you, friend. I am proud to call you this. You get the long post because it's the last bit of Em "I wanna step out of my comfort zone and be vulnerable" before I retreat into my ball again.

@lronwilled Shep I'm still so confused how you infected my friend groups and became so close to me LMAO LIKE IT JUST KINDA HAPPENED AND I can maybe pinpoint like. One or two instances of maybe where it began but I still honestly have an immense amount of appreciation for all the patience and kindness you've shown me. I'm incredibly glad to have met you and started to actually talk more and I hope in 2025 I can maybe finally give you more than one reply a year and oh my god I haven't replie-

@untoldwithin / @avatarwithin YETI... I adore having got to know you and plot stuff like we have. Your portrayals conjure the voices of those you portray to my mind, and talking with you about ideas is always such a blast?? I love seeing you on the dash and love doing things just as much. Here's to a 2025 filled with a LOT MORE of all of the above, I'm so ready for it!!

@plasticsouled / @fearedelight Sal I hope you know how much I love seeing your silly little self on the dash. Even your main blog with muses I know nothing about are stuffed full of life and so much passion that it makes me so glad to be here and be a part of it. You're a fantastic writing partner and I'm so thankful to have met you in the last quarter of this year, and I really hope we can expand on everything we have and more in what's to come!! I love our silly lil shippy stuff and being able to talk is always such a joy and I go pspspsppsp for you to give me any and all thoughts whenever you have them because I can't get enough.

@primegrim / @mirkc / any of your other blogs PICHU I'm so glad to have met you this year and had somebody to ramble with. You write like a thousand blorbos but I'm grabbing each and every one of them with both my hands. Being able to talk and plot and do whatever else is such a blessing and I'm so glad you're here with us. if possible I'd take all your characters and raise them up like Simba, I'm such a fan 24/7 no questions asked.

@jinxe RAY MY BELOVED you have been here with me since the Volibear days and I'm so thankful for it. I've made this known several times but your lil meow meow will always be at my heart and you alone have made me appreciate her as a character so much more than I ever thought possible. I wish you were here more because I would be GRABBING YOU at all possible times.

Honorable Mentions:

You guys already know I love and appreciate you so much, and this is by no means all inclusive. If you're not on here I probably just forgor because this post is already long and emotional for me so skdjhfsdkj here goes!

@rotdame / bloom @soulcluster / NERD (I had to) @luxcruor / sailor @curscdtm / nathy @decaeys / my favorite stinky goth irl toreador @venstm / Ray :3 @hexsreality / Itzel @edgymuses / Jolyne @nameaprice / Xena @pompedia / POM @erobret / FERGIE :D @blueheals & @heirashari / Evie @avernusfuries HANNNN- gets slammed through a wall @spiderwarden & @coldjustness Melody @lunaetis / Hina @blackrosesmatron / lucy

Thank you.

All of you.

Here's to a good 2025.

[noirsdoll]

inspired by this anon ask!!

-> pretty please? part two

all aboard! | the dinner party

pairing: curly x wife!reader

words: 3.0k

tags: dubcon, referenced rape, baby trapping, semi-public sexual stuff, mentions of jimmy’s abuse towards anya, anya gets an abortion, reader is the worst person alive, there’s an actual smut scene this time, no crash au

notes: wasn’t planning on writing a second part but the brainrot got sooo bad uh reader gets even worse imo… writing the anya part caused me physical pain IM SORRY also i need to walk all over curly he’s so…

read it on ao3

Mrs. Grant Curly.

It sounds just as good as it feels. When Pony Express became fully automated, you lost your job just like everybody else. You were lucky that, when the dust settled, you’d made your mark on Curly.

Walking down the cargo ramp, displaying your fresh baby bump, courtesy of him, you've never felt more secure. Sure, Curly proposed to you more out of necessity than want and you got married at the courthouse, but you don’t care. That white picket fence dream you’d been chasing is now a reality.

Of course, you’re the one that cooks and cleans around the house— you didn’t expect anything less, you were sure that Curly had a housewife fantasy rolling around somewhere in that empty head of his. It’s nice, it keeps your hands busy and your mind free, because while he might be the one ordering you around, you’ve never felt more in control in your entire life.

You’re having the former crew over for dinner at your shared house, tonight. Fortunately, Jimmy got locked up for what he did to Anya quickly after the Tulpar’s touchdown, so you won't be seeing him for half a year, at least. The attendees are you, Anya, Daisuke, Swansea, and your lovely husband, Curly.

You cling to Curly’s arm, beckoning everyone in. Your guests crowd around you, admiring the ring Curly wrapped around your finger. A glittering diamond, so heavy it weighs down your hand. Curly smiles awkwardly.

“Wow, it’s gorgeous!” Anya says, with a clear hint of jealousy. You got a ring out of that trip and she gets an abortion.

“Damn, the Captain must be loaded!” Daisuke exclaims, tugging your hand closer for a better inspection.

Swansea nods. “It’s a good investment. You seem like a hard worker.”

“The hardest,” you say with a grin and a coy glance at Curly. “Dinner’s on the table. Pot roast.”

Everyone tucks in, one of the few non-synthetic meals they’ve had since their return to Earth, except for Daisuke, of course. You wonder how much his mom earns and how much it differs from Curly. For all you know, he could be a basement dweller for the rest of his life with no worries.

Curly sits beside you, eating quietly. With your free hand, you trail it up his thigh. You’ve touched him so many times before, but he still freezes up a little. Fortunately, you’ve done it enough that he knows better than to say anything, continuing to eat, albeit stiffer.

Your hand passes over his cock, right over the fabric of his nice suit. He looks so good in dinner formal— that tailored suit hugs his waist and somehow contains his tits. You’re glad you married him.

You hold a conversation with Swansea– something about gas prices and advice about your future kid— all with your hand gently running along the line of Curly’s dick. You honestly don’t care if they see, your cooking is good enough of a distraction.

You turn to look at the side opposite Curly and see Daisuke staring. Not at you, but at your hand— the one on Curly’s cock.

The both of you lock eyes and he looks away, his tan skin flushed rouge. You watch him for a moment, intrigued, slowly pulling away.

Nothing else happens for the rest of dinner, everyone migrates to the living room afterwards. Swansea’s showing Curly something in the garage and Anya’s in the washroom, so that just leaves you and Daisuke.

You lean back on the couch beside Daisuke. “So… what’re you doing now that the Tulpar’s done for?”

He rubs the back of his neck, wearing a suit— an expensive, designer one. “I dunno, Swansea’s having me join his freelancing business— and I think he’s great and all but like, I’m nowhere on his level.”

“I think you’re pretty capable, Daisuke,” you smile. “If not, I’m sure my husband can network you somewhere.”

Daisuke glances down at your pregnant stomach and back up. “So, you and the captain, you’re really like, married and all that?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No, nothing, it’s just— it seems kinda out of nowhere.” He shrugs, looking away. “You really spooked us when you announced it on the ship.”

“We’d been together for a while, it’s only natural that something would happen,” you laugh. You expected it to— you’d have poked holes in his condoms if he had them.

Daisuke swallows. “How long have you been together?”

You think for a moment. “Since maybe about… halfway through the trip? We just couldn’t keep our hands off of each other, really.”

“Oh, wow, that long?” He looks at you with a furrowed brow, contemplating.

“Yeah… is something wrong?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I just feel stupid for not noticing.

“You’re not stupid, Daisuke. I said you were capable, remember?” You grin. “He just likes to keep things private, you know?”

“Private? But you two were…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Is he talking about what he saw at the dinner table?

Daisuke glances past you and you hear footsteps, it must be Curly and Swansea returning from the garage.

You decide to play a game.

“... so then I figured I’d return to my roots. Go back to being a car mechanic,” Swansea says, halfway buried in a cardboard box.

“Right…” Curly holds the box steady for him, watching Swansea root through his spare tools like a raccoon.

Swansea springs up with a new wrench in hand— one that looks exactly like all the others he’s found laying around in Curly’s garage. “The missus wants me back to work already. Can you believe her?”

“It’ll be good for your joints,” Curly says, setting the box down.

Swansea tosses the newfound wrench into the pile of all the other hammers and pliers and wires. It thunks against the dull metal. Curly pats the dust off his suit, Swansea doesn’t seem to be worried about the condition of his own.

“Nah, she just wants to nag. She’s good at nagging.” Swansea laughs, patting Curly on the back and knocking the wind out of his lungs. “Get used to that, huh? You keep telling yourself it’ll end eventually and it never does.”

Curly takes a moment to regain his breath. “Thank you, but she doesn’t nag.” You do something far worse than nag.

“Yeah? Well, it’ll be something or another. It always is with women.” He pops his back, groaning. Swansea gestures to his pile of knick-knacks with his head. “I’ll have these all back to you by the end of the month.”

Curly nods. “Thanks, Swansea.” He’s never seeing those tools again.

After hauling it all to Swansea’s rusty pickup, they head to the living room. That’s where Curly sees you and Daisuke. He hears you too, and he wishes he couldn’t.

“Oh, you’re talking about me feeling him up during dinner? Yeah, Curly’s into being humiliated. He always has me do stuff like that when we’re in public.” You shrug. “I think it’s nasty, but you know, gotta keep the husband happy.”

Curly stops dead in his tracks, unsure of what to do or say. It’s like a car crash, all he can do is watch, powerless to stop the careening vehicle.

“So… you do stuff like that all the time?” Daisuke’s voice is shaky, breathless.

“Yeah, most couples roleplay.” You look so at ease. Curly feels sick. “Have you ever tried anything like that, Daisuke?”

“What?! I, uh, no, I haven’t.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure if I talked to him, you and I could work something out—”

“Honey?” By some force of God, he’s compelled to speak, walking forward to the both of you.

You turn to him, your eyes lighting up. Curly would be flattered if he didn’t know your true intentions. Time with you has told him one thing— you’re constantly scheming. This is your newest one. But why drag Daisuke into this? Just to spite him?

Maybe you’re switching targets. That could be a good thing, but Curly can’t bring himself to feel that way– especially when it’d just be another person getting hurt in his stead.

He was never hurt. You’re a pretty girl, of course he’s wanted it, he was just confused. That’s why he never pushed you off, that’s what makes it all okay.

“Ah, there’s the man of the hour,” you smile, “we were just talking about you, nothing important.”

Curly glances from you to Daisuke, whose eyes are so wide they swallow up his whole face. “Yeah, had a feeling you were. Why don’t you go check on Anya? Swansea and I have some business stuff to talk to Daisuke about and I doubt you want to be around for that.”

“Of course,” you beam, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him. You leave with a flurry of your dress around the corner.

At least Curly can say you aren’t bad to look at.

“Fuck, fuck, where did I put it?”

Anya rifles through her tiny purse, sorting through makeup and pills and her phone, searching for the one thing she really needs right now. She feels frantic, lamenting not wearing a dress with pockets. Eventually she finds it, pulling out a wrinkled period liner that was shoved to the bottom of her bag.

Getting her period is a reminder of Jimmy, a reminder of the fact that she’s not pregnant anymore, that she’s safe from him now. Anya never knew her period could be so comforting.

Just as she grabs a hold of the pad, she hears a knock on the bathroom door. “Who is it?” Anya shoves the pad back into her void of a bag, trying to disguise the crinkles with her voice.

“Can I come in?” It’s you. One of the few friends she has.

“Yes, of course.”

You enter, baby bump first, and Anya has to look away, wringing her hands. She doesn’t mean for the gesture to appear so rude, but she can’t help it.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, moving your head till it meets her gaze.

Anya nods on instinct. “Yes, I’m fine. Just… parties make me exhausted sometimes.”

“I get it, totally.” You sit on the edge of the tub, with Anya leaning against the counter. Everything in this bathroom is so blindingly white— it reminds Anya of the room where she got her abortion— operation.

“Um, congratulations on you and Curly’s marriage, if I didn’t say it already.”

You smile, “Aww, thank you, Anya. Truly, I’ve never been happier.”

“That’s good,” she purses her lips, debating if she should ask the question. “On the Tulpar, you told me that Curly made you do things. Is everything okay with you and him?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Sometimes people make mistakes, confuse a situation for something it’s not, you know?”

“Ah, really?”

“Oh, all the time.” You say it like it’s obvious. Something winds in Anya’s stomach. “I figured, it was just all in my head, really. You just wanna feel special sometimes. I talked to Grant and apologized for saying a thing like that and now it’s all better.” You gently pet a hand over your stomach. “Plus I get this little guy as a reward for all my hard work.”

Anya swallows. “Right, yeah.” It feels like she’s being crushed from above. She can’t breathe, blurting out each word. “Do you have a pad, by any chance? I only have one and I don’t think it’ll be enough.”

Slowly, you shake your head. “Sorry, I don’t get those anymore. I’m pregnant, remember?” You chuckle. “Will you be okay without an extra?”

She nods. “Yes, I might have to leave early, though.”

“Alright, well, come get me when you want to leave so I can show you out.” You pat her shoulder, smile a warm smile, and leave the way you came.

Anya collapses in a heap once the door closes.

Like all good things, the party eventually comes to an end. You stand at the door with Curly’s hand on your waist, the perfect picture of a couple as you see your guests off.

Once the door shuts and the porch lights click off, Curly reaches for his tie’s knot, loosening it with a sigh. “Did you have fun?”

“So much fun.” You lock the door, heading down the hall to the bedroom. “How was your business talk?”

Curly trails after you, undoing his suit jacket. “It’s boring. It always is.”

You reach the bedroom, standing by the foot of it as you unzip your dress and step out of it. Curly looks like he wants to say something, so you stay silent. Poor thing, it’s like speaking his mind hurts.

He’s halfway down unbuttoning his dress shirt when he strings the words together. “Am I not enough for you?”

“What makes you say that?” You know exactly what he’s talking about. You just like seeing the way he questions himself when you question him.

You unclasp your bra, your tits drooping. You hate the way you look pregnant, you have to avoid seeing your reflection like a fucking vampire. It’s a means to an end, that’s the only thing that’s reassured you.

“That whole thing with Daisuke— you can’t just say stuff like that in front of other people.” He’s gaining a bit of a backbone, it surprises you. “I want this to work.”

“Then we both need to step up, right?” You move closer. “I cleaned the whole house and cooked dinner just for you to spend most of the time hiding in the garage.”

“We were working, it wasn’t like it was on purpose—,”

“No, it was on purpose. You’re being a bad husband, Grant.” You gesture to your belly, the final nail in the coffin. “You can’t act like this when I’m pregnant with your baby, okay? You have to be a father to your child.”

You stand there, fuming and for a moment you actually feel angry. Your performance is so convincing even you believe it.

“Hey, don’t be mad, please.” It’s the best argument he’s got, especially when he tips your grumbling face up to meet his baby blues. “I fucked up today and I’m sorry, okay? I’ll do better, promise.”

Fuck, he’s so perfect. He caves like clockwork, hearing him admit it’s his fault gets you soaked every time. You kiss him, soft and slow. “Could you help me take off my heels, then? My feet are killing me.”

You sit on the edge of the bed and Curly takes a knee, the same way he did in your crew quarters, promising to buy you a ring the second he landed. And he always keeps his promises.

He undoes your heels and you watch on with an easy grin as he peppers kisses along your ankles and the top of your feet. You expected him to do that, Curly’s so predictable. He keeps his eyes on yours, searching for your praise. He kneads your feet a little too, massaging out all the aches and pains.

His mouth trails higher and higher until it reaches its end destination— your shaven pussy. You can never get a good look with the baby bump in the way, so you make him shave it. It’s one of his favourite tasks– like a sensory toy for a toddler.

Curly’s tongue laves over your slit and he eats you out, thick eyelashes fluttering closed as he takes his time with you.

Your orgasm makes up for the fake anger you lobbied at him— it swallows you up and spits you back on the bed with a limp spine. You deserve it, honestly, all this acting really takes a toll on you.

Your favourite part is when he gets on the bed with you, big burly arms caging you in. It feels like the entire world’s been closed out and it’s just you and him. Nothing but his warm body pressed so tightly to yours. Two puzzle pieces that fit.

Curly fumbles a little in the dark, but eventually his fat cock is splitting you open, that same perfect cock that knocked you up all those months ago. It feels just as good as it did the first time and all those subsequent times after.

His eyelids fall to half mast as he looks at you, and that’s how you know you have him. So easily ensnared, what’s the point of an argument when you can just spread your legs and he comes willingly? You’ll have to try it next time, see if your pussy does a better job of speaking for you.

The mattress creaks with every slow movement. Unhurried and hard is the rhythm he always chooses, constantly searching your expression to make sure he isn’t hurting you. Not that you’d mind.

It would just remind you of that night in his quarters, when he’d snapped and he was no longer the Curly you’d grown obsessed with, when you were half sure he might kill you. Since then, you made sure never to push him that far again, to only play games you were certain you’d win.

And Curly filling you up after a long day is a sure bet.

He cums quicker than you’d like, but you’re too tired to berate him. He’s done enough today. Crowded up against his chest, you play with the hair there, winding the short strands around your fingers.

Too fucked out for malice, you both talk for a while. On baby names, on family, on being better. You only care about one of those. You’ve been set on the baby names ever since you scratched them onto the metal wall of your quarters back on the Tulpar— right above the heart with both yours and Curly’s names.

You just tell him you haven’t decided yet.

[admirationandromantics]

Friend's Best Friend

Happy new years everyone!! Can't wait to kick it off with some more writing!

Another request, finished it quick because this is literally my favourite blogger on Tumblr (yes, I'm glazing). Chris again people! We love him, and here, he's a bit more awkward and cute than in my other ones. Kinda a love at first sight thing, so hope you like it <3

Word count: 1,7k (unedited)

psssttt hiii!! i hope you have a lovely new year and i hope to see more of your content!! ��🫶😇😇 Not necessarily a request but if you'd like to write it feel free.. this is simply a thought i had can be nsfw or sfw tbh! Chris and reader meeting for the first time and Chris just being like head over heels cannot quit staring at reader- im thinking Ash or Jess's best friend who he's never met before and Josh pokes fun at him to get your number but before he can even protest reader comes over and is like super straightforward like "Hi i think you're attractive i want your number." and he's just like FUMBLING FOR HIS LIIIIFE. -@dahliascophin

“I promise you, they’re all nice and kind” 

“You say that about everyone” I tell Ash as we walk out of the bus. The night hung low, dark clouds collecting as we walked. The only light coming from the street lamps as we make our way to the gettogether. Ashley had the idea of inviting me to one. Apparently, the one time I met Josh, I had made quite the impression, and both of them wanted me to come to at least one hang out. The group sounded alright when they described it, though I was still unsure about how they functioned. Every individual was so vastly different, I couldn’t quite grasp it. 

“Will I have anything in common with someone?” I ask, a grim feeling in my stomach. What if they were all douchebags, or preppy, or just plain mean? 

“Hey, you have me, Josh. I think you’ll love both Sam, Chris, Beth and Matt”

“Okay, you know I trust you, but your matching skills are not the best” 

“Oh shut up, they’re gonna love you. You’re basically a more extroverted and smiling version of me, but I’m prettier and kinder” 

“Wow, not boosting my ego at all?” 

“Nah, you don’t need it, we already know what’ll happen if you think too highly of yourself” 

“Damn, but what if I’m kinder and prettier than you?” 

“Then that’s something I’ll never admit” 

I give her a nudge, earning a laugh and a small hit back. We were finally approaching the house, outdoor lighting and a beautiful yard. 

“Are they rich or something?” 

“Yep, the Washingtons, can you imagine?” 

“Not at all” 

We don’t bother knocking, and she opens the door, holding her arm out for me to walk inside. I oblige, letting myself into the grand building. If the outside didn’t seem big, the inside did. Expensive paintings and decor in the hallway, contrasted by the large amount of jackets that hung on the wall. 

“Looks like everybody’s here already” 

We take off our coats and outerwear, hanging it on the racks before making our way to the living room. Laughter and talk fill our ears as we arrive, the room full of people. Everyone’s heads turn as Ashley announces our presence to them. 

“Hey guys, this is my friend I was talking about!” I give a small wave, putting on my best smile as I look over the room. I see Josh, who walks over and hugs me. 

“You made it, fantastic!” 

“You have a beautiful home, Josh” 

“Oh stop being so polite, come meet everyone” 

We walk over to the others, everyone with welcoming smiles and expressions. I’m introduced to every single one, Jess being extra hyper and hugging me while I only give the others a handshake. 

A certain blonde catches my eye, and Josh takes his place beside him as he introduces us. He says his name is Chris, his eyes wandering over me as I lean over to grab his hand. It’s rough, his grip hard and firm. The action in itself earns a slight pink blush on my part, but I just pray he doesn’t see it. After all, we haven’t said more than hi. 

“Chris and I met back in third grade, a completely boring story, but have been inseparable ever since” Josh explains, giving the guy a hard clap on the back. I smile, taking a seat beside Ashley while listening. 

“Boring, you? I can’t imagine that” 

“You know what, you’re totally right!” Josh exclaims, starting to explain in-depth how he and Chris got to know each other. The whole time, Chris is looking at me, watching my reactions and studying my features. I give him a small smile, signaling that I see him. His gaze shifts away immediately, looking back at Josh who’s leaned over on his knees. 

“What a coincidence” I add when he’s finished and he gives a hum in reply. Ashley sighs, hand going around my back to turn me to the others. 

“Finally, we’ve heard that story a million times” 

“Hey, I’ve only heard it once” 

“Lucky” 

I shift to talk to Jessica and Emily, both of them energetic and fashion-oriented. They’re both nice, though I sense some tension when Emily’s boyfriend arrives and sits in between the two. He leans forward, joining the conversation. 

“So, how do you know Ash?” I think back. I feel like I’ve always known her, even though we’ve lived far from each other. 

“Well, we met in kindergarten I think, and during a playdate, our moms became friends, so we just built it from there” I easily explain, looking around. I guess it was as easy as that, and we were lucky we found each other so early. Chris is looking at me, eyes narrowed and mouth slightly open. Josh nudges his arm, making him look at the guy with a sour expression. They’re on the other side of the room, and I can’t hear what they’re saying. The only thing I can make out is Josh laughing and continuously teasing him with small hits and huge theatrical movements. 

“So, you a big party-girl?” Jessica asks, and I turn my attention back to her. 

“Well, I don’t mind a good party” She lets out a small shriek, hands coming to grab both of mine. 

“I’m hosting next week, and Ashley has already said no, but you can come AND you can convince her to go with you!” 

“Ash, you’re free next week?” 

“No, I’ve got studies” 

“Oh, come on” 

I try to make her, while Jessica’s watching intently. In the end, she obliges, telling me that she’ll only come if I do too. After all, I also have a lot of homework to be dealt with. 

The party goes on, and I eventually get to talking with both Matt and Sam a bit. I’m in a conversation with Sam about mountain climbing as Chris makes an appearance beside her, joining the talk. 

“Oh, hey Chris, we were just talking about that time I forced you up on the mountain, you know. With the rope and falling and all of that” Sam explains, and arm going to his shoulder. 

“Wait what, you’re telling her about that? I was a good climber, I did everything right” 

“Well, except for when you fell down and whined about-”

“So, you’re friends with Ashley, right?” he interrupts her, and I see her lips tighten. I giggle a little, the situation funny. 

“Too early to hear about your embarrassing stuff, huh Chris?” 

Josh jumps up behind him, clinging to his shoulders for support. The sudden weight surprises him, and I hold my hands out automatically, in case they both fall. Chris is strong, and he just sighs as Josh jumps off him again, his arm leaning on the blonde’s shoulder. 

“Oh trust me, this guy’s got A LOT of embarrassing stuff we can talk about” 

“Dude…” 

“Calm down, Cochie, I’m not gonna say anything. At least not yet” Josh laughs, taking Sam’s arm and dragging her with him. After they leave, he whispers something in her ear, causing them both to look back to us. I ignore them. 

“To answer your question, yes, been friends with Ash for as long as I can remember” 

“That’s a long time” he nods, eyes finding mine again. He looks muscular, big. After all, he just carried Josh after having to endure a surprise-attack from him. His eyes are big and blue, the kind which one can drown in. Gosh, he’s absolutely beautiful. Just my type. 

“So, tell me Chris, what are your hobbies?” 

“Well, um…” he stumbles over his words, and I can’t help but just keep giving encouraging smiles. “I mean, I play video games with Josh sometimes, and do coding and such…”

“Wow, really? I tried coding once, and it was difficult, gave up right away” 

“It’s easy when you get the hang of it” 

“I believe you, and what games do you play? I know Josh likes pvp shooting stuff a lot, but you?” 

He stutters again, and I place my hand on his arms, causing a light pink shade to cover his cheeks. He rearranges his glasses, arms then going behind his neck. 

“You know, the usual” he mutters, laughing a little. He quickly composes himself, taking a breath and starting to talk again. 

“So, I was wondering if you were interested in going to-”

“OMG! And please, I think this necklace would look gorgeous on you!” Jessica shrieks, coming up behind me. She shoves her phone in front of me, a picture of a golden necklace with a small trinket at the center. 

“Yeah, that’s beautiful” 

“Come on, Emily was just researching a top to wear with it” she adds, taking my arm and pulling me with her. I give a small smile and wave to Chris, seeing Josh going up to him again. 

“So close dude! You just need to-” is all I hear before being dragged out of earshot. 

Sadly, I don’t get to talk to Chris before having to catch the last bus. Ashley and I say our goodbyes, both walking to the hallway to get our coats. She leans over, whispering to me. 

“You know, I saw that blush when you were talking to Chris” 

“I’m not surprised, you’re always looking at me” I tease her, but she just shakes her head. 

“Seriously, just go do it now, he’s not going to be at Jess’s party, he’s busy that weekend” 

“Wait, really, he’s not coming?” 

She hums, hand pushing on my back. 

“Bus leaves soon, we don’t have all night” 

I take a deep breath, mastering some courage before hurrying over to the living room again. On my way, I take out a pen and an old receipt from my pocket, writing my number in big letters. Everyone turns their heads, looking at me when I arrive, but I walk over to Chris, handing him the note. 

“Hey, here’s my number. Let me know if you want to go out for coffee sometime” I offer, smiling down at him. His hand is open, but not moving, so I place the paper there, tapping his fingers around it. His mouth is open, eyes surprised and shocked. I laugh a little, standing up again and looking at everyone. 

“Yeah, I definitely will, thank you” he exclaims, cheeks red as he keeps staring at me. 

“Great, can’t wait” I smile, waving goodbye to everyone. I walk back to Ash, and as I turn the corner, I hear Josh and some other cooing. 

“Dude, you did it! Or she did, but either way it was done!!”

[theolivetree123]

Happy New Years, everyone 💙

Sorry I haven't posted anything for the new year, but I'm prioritizing my family this new years. Hopefully, Rev's intro was enough for yalls lol.

Now time for the sappy shit 💀

@natsukishinomiyaswife

Your twst event was the first one I EVER participated in, and I'm SOOOOO glad I did! If it wasn't for your event, I probably wouldn't be where I am today. You and many others gave me the confidence to share my characters and art with the twst community, so I really appreciate it. I hope you have an amazing 2025 💖

@babyghoul138

As one of my first moots, I owe you a lot of thanks. You made me feel so welcome in a time when I had very low self-esteem, and you raised me up to be more confident in myself. I really appreciate you, not only as a moot, but as a friend. I hope you have an amazing 2025 💜

@cheerleaderman

You were one of my first moots and the first twst creator I ever interacted with. You made me feel so loved with your response to my art, and it made me feel so special. Thank you for caring so much for my characters and for taking the time to learn so much about them. I hope you have an amazing 2025 ✨️

@jovieinramshackle

Thanks so much for your friendliness, Jo. Ever since I first saw your art, I wanted to be moots with you, but I never knew how to ask you.... well, until I did, lol. You're one of the friendliest people I know, and thank you so much for making me feel welcome and loved in the community. I hope you have an amazing 2025 💙

Okay, I would write notes to ALL my moots, but this would be WAAAYYY too long, so for the moots I didn't mention, just know that I appreciate every single one of you. You all have made me feel so welcome in the community and showed me that it's okay to share your interests because there will always be someone who cares.

I'd also like to thank my followers. You all have shown me that I'm worth something. Throughout my life, I've seen myself as worthless, someone who doesn't deserve anything. But your support has made me so much more confident in my art. You all have shown me that my art is worth seeing and worth supporting. I really must thank you for that. Art is something that makes me happy, and it's good to know that someone cares about what I love to do 💙

Happy 2025, everybody! I'll try my best to share new and exciting ideas with all of you.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Ok. So. If someone wanted to read your works…

Which do you think is your best piece and why? You can split the answer into short and long fics if you want. 😜

Which do you think is your most delicious, sexy, satisfying piece of smut?

Which do you think has the most intimate/immersive POV of a character, like really takes you in their heart and mind and makes you feel what they feel? Takes you on the ride with them?

And which one do you think everyone should read? I know, choosing one is torture. 😉😘

This is a fantastic ask! Thank you, @freesia-writes! I had to think about it for a while, but I think I'm ready to stop waffling and commit to some answers.

Which do you think is your best piece and why? You can split the answer into short and long fics if you want. 😜

You know, I would say Boil and Trouble,* but it's unfinished, so there are still two more chapters for me to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. So instead, I'm going to say "The Sixth Language," for one very specific reason: it's the one fic I've written that is MY comfort fic. I have lots of comfort fics from other writers, but this is the only one of my own that I reread again and again, and it always makes me feel safe and happy.

Which do you think is your most delicious, sexy, satisfying piece of smut?

This one was easy! "Just a Little Bit More," because it's realistic and affirming but still super hot, IMO. It was also the fastest smut I've ever written. I was inspired.

Which do you think has the most intimate/immersive POV of a character, like really takes you in their heart and mind and makes you feel what they feel? Takes you on the ride with them?

Stars Beyond Number. 100%. Cerra feels like a real person to me, not a character. Actually, so do Fireball and Nemec, which is one of the reasons their canon deaths hit me so hard. My stupid brain can't tell the difference between a real person I actually know and a character I wrote about.

And which one do you think everyone should read? I know, choosing one is torture. 😉😘

Ahahahahahaha! "Everybody Hates Neyo" and "Everybody Hates Neyo Round 2: Matchmaking Boogaloo." This was one of the most fun fics I ever wrote, and if I were to pick a single fic to pitch to a new reader to give them an example of the things I like best about my writing (banter and smut), this would be the one. Neyo and the Badmiral are so unhinged and hilarious to me, and honestly I'm still dying over the concept of them being perfect for each other because they are menaces to society who need to be removed from the dating pool for the good of all.

Thank you so much for this! I had so much fun thinking of answers! 😘😘😘😘

*Boil and Trouble is such a pain in the ass to link. As soon as it's finished, I'm going to repost chapter 1 to my own account and create a chapter masterlist so it's easier for people to find.

[mymanymerrymuses]

Guess what guys, it's game time!

Here's the plan! You, yes YOU, like this post. One little like, click the heart (I'll love you for it) and then I will list 1-5 of my muses that I think would be fun to write with yours.

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL!

No no, we are upgrading this game this time. Once you have your list, let me know which muses you're interested in (or which you aren't interested in) and I will write us a starter for every pair you liked the sound of - that's right folks, every one! Even if you like all five ideas!

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hiii! Love your work! So ever since that episode Chigiri calls Isagi attaboy, my brain has been just in there. So could I maybe get some good old, fast, maybe a little rough Chigiri calling reader Attagirl? Maybe a little bit of degradation too. Like being mean maybe

This man lives in my head tent free jdkdkd

“You dumb whore, instead of complaining can’t you put your mouth to better use?”

You knew from day one that Hyoma is a moody guy and you also learned how to deal with him, but today he really reached to apex, mood swinging back and forth and you were way too angry (and horny) to deal with it; thankfully Hyoma followed your lead.

Your mouth now kissing his boner through the fabric of his boxer, you can feel it twitch already, his hips grinding into your mouth begging to feel your mouth without any barrier.

It’s funny teasing Hyoma when he is in such a bad mood, but you are human too. You pull his dick out, usually, you would kiss the tip and lick slowly the shaft with the utmost care, but today isn’t the right one for such a nice treatment. You take as much as you can, moaning around the shaft.

“Ah finally” Hyoma groans. He then grips your hair, something he usually wouldn’t do, and forces you to take him all, your gags and tears make him just more aroused. He keeps you there for a second, enjoying the tightness of your throat, then let you go.

Tears running down your face and a string of spit connecting your abused mouth to his tip; a picture that is going to be framed in his head for a long time.

“Just say you wanted this from the start you bitch” A nasty snark escape his lips.

Hyoma grabs one of your hands and guides it to his thigh, a silent promise that he is gonna stop at the first tap, then he pulls your head again and starts fucking your face.

“You take it so well – You feel so good, fuck”  His words only spur you to do better, laving your tongue on the sides of the shaft as good as you can, your mouth making wet, sinful noises every thrust.

“K-keep going for a little bit more”

You nod, as best as you can since he is still keeping your head in place, the vibration making a delicious shiver run down his spine.

“Atta - attagirl” This time it’s your turn to feel the shiver; it is so good to be praised.

“Goddess, c-can I come on your face?” Hyoma moans, the aggressiveness of earlier almost vanished.

This time you don’t have time to answer, Hyoma already pulled out, jerking off at the sight of your tears, snot, and overall miserable face. A few more pumps and you found your lips and cheeks stained by strings of his cum.

“W-was it too much?”

“You were just perfect”

“Give me a minute and get on all fours, it’s time for me to reward my good girl.”

[cluescorner]

I gave myself a writing challenge and I am fascinated by it

So basically I put the robins in a randomizer to give them a new order/role (because I just...kinda wanted to see what would happen + I like role-reversal AUs) and got results that are giving me a fucking brain blast.

Stephanie, the first sidekick who defines the role

Tim, the sidekick who dies and comes back wrong

Dick, the sidekick who saves Batman from himself

Damian, the sidekick who was never supposed to be a sidekick but would go on to prove everyone wrong

Jason, the youngest sidekick who is still the Kid Wonder

...So this is fucking wild. I've got some ideas and several of these fit perfectly (Dick's role is pretty similar to his one in canon), but some of these are fucking INCREDIBLE to explore (Steph being the first Robin is something I never even considered but tbh I kinda love it).

I probably won't write a fic or anything because tbh I don't like publishing my writing that much, but I might expand this into a full AU and post about it. I might randomize other stuff too (ie, stuff that I cannot change vs stuff that I cannot keep the same) but this fucking rules as a starting point.

[beanghostprincess]

Okay you're making me obsessed with Sabosan- I'm in need to posts about them

Just an AU where they meet during childhood, like, Sabo and his parents go to Germa bc of some politic shit and he don't want to be there so he just walks around.

And be accident he finds Sanji outside the castle, crying, and he knows he is one of the princes since they were already presented to each other. But the boy is hurt and crying so much that Sabo can't not help him.

In the beggining Sanji is scared, but soon he notices the other blonde don't want to beat him like his brothers. They talk all the day and for the first time in Sanji's life, he feels like he made a friend.

When Sabo's family has to go back to Goa, both kids are sad but hope to meet again soon. After this, everything in Sanji's past happens (Sora's death, he being locked and running away).

Month's later, the nobles from Goa go again to Germa and Sabor receive the terrible news that Sanji is dead. This broke's his heart 'cause the boy was sweet and kind and even just being with each other during one day he was sure the prince was amazing.

Since Sanji were 8 and Sabo 9 during this, ge just meet Luffy one year later and all he can think sometimes is how much the two would love each other. But don't matter now, his friend is dead.

Everything happens, and years later he remember everything and all he can think is how he forget them? How he let other person he loves die? The boy is broke bc he lose another person.

And he is going to meet Luffy's crew, hearing his young brother talk about them when he says about a guy named Sanji and- Sabor freezes, he ask about him and this boy is identical to his dead friend- but can't be him, right...? He can't have hope.

When they arrive in the ship, he's knowing everyone and then he go to the kitchen with Luffy to meet said boy and- it's Sanji, alive. Breathing, older and so much beautiful.

And Sanji is looking at him too and- both are in shock. Luffy is there, confused and looking at the two. "Luffy, can I talk for a moment with your friend?" Sabo asks intenting to not show how he is emotional.

"Uh? You know each other?" Luffy ask but go outside the kitchen anyway, they still are silent during some minutes. Sanji is read to say something when Sabo hugs him.

"I thought you were dead" is all he says and the blackleg hugs him back, feeling bad for making Sabo think this.

Both don't say much, but they are happy they're together again.

Agh, you all know I am extremely weak for childhood AUs!!!!! This is beautiful :(

I can't stop thinking about Sanji obviously getting forced to meet Sabo, but he doesn't really want to because he always hates it when important people come over. Yes, his father is more distracted with them, but that leaves them a free day from training, and sometimes those are even worse than regular days. Because even if his brothers already make fun of him and beat him up when they train, whenever they're not doing anything it's even worse because they take their time and it's a complete nightmare. Besides, introducing himself with the name Vinsmoke has always made him want to throw up, even from a very early age, and there's this uneasy feeling inside of him whenever Judge speaks about him normally instead of saying how much of a disappointment he is. He prefers that rather than him lying to strangers because he knows what he says isn't true. He doesn't consider him his son, and he doesn't see him as his father either. It's nauseating.

When Sabo and Sanji get introduced along with the other Vinsmoke siblings, Sanji doesn't want to look up. He has to, of course, but he doesn't feel like being there at all. But he's even more scared of what might happen if he doesn't do what Judge says. When he looks up, he can tell that the kid in front of him doesn't want to be here either. He's good at pretending, though. He smiles politely and shakes their hands and it's obvious that he's been trained to act that way, but he doesn't look at all like a noble. He has a missing tooth and scratches in his hands and face and it's quite obvious that he tries to cover it (not him, his parents) but it isn't working for Sanji. Besides, there's this rage in his eyes that Sanji can't quite place but he knows something is going on with him. That just scares him even more, because, even if it's not the same rage his brothers have in their eyes, it's still rage. If he was a simple kid like all the others that have come to their kingdom with their families, Sanji would not be that worried, but he isn't. And Sanji fears the worst because he can't figure him out.

On the other hand, Sabo wants to jump off a bridge. He would rather drown than be here. Get the kid out of there!!!!!!!! He didn't want to come at all but his parents wouldn't stop pressuring him and tbh it was easier to end this quickly so he could go home even quicker (home being Gray Terminal and next to Ace, thank you very much). So he's on his best behavior so he can just quickly go back home. He hates them. The kids, he means. Rich, spoiled brats that are modified to be that way. To be selfish. To kill. It's disgusting and he despises how the father talks with so much pride about it. But- But he never, not even once, mentions the blond. He talks praise about all of his kids except him, but he also doesn't even mention him. Sabo can tell his name is Sanji because his brothers won't stop teasing him about stuff Sabo can't understand, but he knows enough to get that something's off. Whatever. Not his fight. Not his siblings. Not his responsibility.

But his sense of responsibility and morals are already strong enough to make him overly sensitive to this stuff, so he watches the behavior of the kids carefully. Their parents tell them to go do whatever because they're talking about "grown-up stuff" and they need to form "royal bonds for future needs" or whatever bullshit they keep making up. And, uh, Sabo fucking hates it. The kids are scary as fuck. Like, creepy. Type of thing he wishes Ace were with him for because this is way worse than the things they've seen happening at Gray Terminal. The way they speak about the staff and human lives is just disgusting. With no emotion in their voices other than plain selfishness and cruelty. They show Sabo around the castle and- And Sanji isn't around anywhere? Apparently? When he asks where he might be, that's when his brothers start trash-talking him. Calling him a coward. A weakling. Worse things Sabo does not want to repeat but- But it's just extremely fucked up. But again, not his fight. He can keep an eye on them but not intervene because he really, really wants to go home soon. And he's pretty sure this is just the way siblings talk about each other. Rich, noble siblings, at least. Even if Sanji seemed different, he's still one of them.

Sabo eventually gets bored of them, and also they're disgusting to be around. So he just disappears and hopes they don't give a fuck about him to look for him. That's when he finds Sanji crying outside of the castle. He really knows he shouldn't intervene. He never does when he goes to these meetings. But Sanji seems different. He's crying. These kids, in theory, should not be able to feel like this, right? There's just something so human about him, from the first second they saw each other, that Sabo can't help but want to protect him. He's not much older than him, but still. Sanji looks way weaker and shorter in comparison, and,, And in need of someone. Like he's always asking for help.

And so they talk. Sabo approaches him and the first thing Sanji does is flinching. He thinks Sabo is going to hit him, apparently? What the fuck. Sabo instantly kneels beside him to tell him that he is definitely not here for this, and why the hell would he even think that?? Sanji doesn't reply, of course, he just hugs his knees closer to his chest and looks away, hoping for Sabo to not ask more questions. But Sabo notices this glint of hope in his eyes that he doesn't want to show. Like begging for him to get him out of there. Sabo just sits beside him in a very nonchalant and very not noble way and starts talking. He tells Sanji how he doesn't want to be here either, and trash-talks his family and nobility and starts saying all of these things he only tells Ace about. He usually doesn't trust people so easily, and Ace would kill him for this, but Sanji needs this. And apparently, it doesn't bother him at all to give him this. Sanji starts opening up little by little, hope in his eyes and excitement starting to come out of his voice when they change subjects. Sanji, apparently, isn't like his siblings. In any way. And he likes cooking and sea creatures too! Sabo has a lot of stories to tell about those! And they keep talking and talking and hours pass and suddenly Sabo doesn't want to go home. It's not only fun to be here, but scary to leave if it means never seeing Sanji again and leaving him here. Especially when he tells him about everything his family does to him (because they end up talking about that) and he has to hold Sabo back from yelling because he has never been angrier in his entire fucking life. What the hell does this family think they are? Sanji doesn't deserve this. He's nice. Cute, too. Smart. Extremely sweet and empathetic. Selfless. Kindness itself.

But time moves quickly and they have to return to their ship. He hates leaving Sanji. He really does. But they promise to see each other again! He even gives Sanji his white handkerchief. The one he likes. The one that's all ripped and worn out. Because it's the one he uses the most. The one he uses when he's with Ace! And it has his initials engraved there, but the S is the only thing that can be seen, so it's okay! Sanji keeps it like a reminder of freedom and the fact that they'll for sure see each other again!

But they don't.

Because the news of Sanji dying reach Sabo and he's devastated. It's so unfair. And it's true. He knows he's dead and he can't do anything about it. But he also knows his family had something to do with it because he's not stupid. He has to move on past the rage, though, even if it's extremely infuriating and frustrating. He has to move on. Sanji, on the other hand, doesn't let go of the handkerchief and Sabo's words, even if he has lost all hope. Yadda, yadda, yadda, you know how the story goes. So Reiju helps Sanji escape and he knows he'll probably never see him again, but he still hopes. Sabo thinks, meanwhile, when he meets Luffy, that he'd love Sanji. With how much he keeps talking about food and dreams! And Sanji would love being here too. Well, not really, because Gray Terminal doesn't seem at all like something Sanji would enjoy, but it for sure would be better than Germa. And Sabo would be able to protect him too. It doesn't matter now, though.

Time-skip moment. Sabo remembers his childhood and his brothers and Sanji. And Ace just died. So great. It seems that the world is always against him. He doesn't have much time to think about Sanji because right now the only thing he has in mind is Ace, his fruit, and finding Luffy. But Sanji's image, for some reason, keeps appearing in his mind. He isn't sure why, but it's still engraved there. He tries to forget him, but now that he truly wants to forget, he doesn't. Fuck it. Well. Dressrosa happens. Yay! He got a brother back and Ace's fruit. Yadda yadda. We know how it goes.

He doesn't actually get to meet Sanji in Dressrosa because I'm trying to be loyal to the timeline, so let's say that this is post-wano and pre-egghead (and Sabo is fine and he isn't in the huge mess he's in right now). Sabo goes "oh, I want to pay an actual visit to my brother's crew. I didn't get to meet everyone properly" and that's when the cool stuff happens.

You know, he tells Robin first about it and she informs the crew and stuff. When Sabo gets there, the only one on deck is Luffy, so of course he gets all excited and jumps to hug him and keeps talking about his crew and how much he's gonna love everyone! Like Nami because she's super smart like him!!! And Usopp because he has the coolest inventions!! And Sanji because he is the best cook-

Wait, Sanji?

And it can't be, because his Sanji is dead. His Sanji can't be Luffy's Sanji, right? Impossible. He guesses it might be just a coincidence and tries to move on from Luffy's words. But then he starts meeting everyone and Sanji gets out of the kitchen to greet him and- Oh. Okay. Yeah. That's definitely him. He has not forgotten those eyebrows and blue eyes and bangs. He could tell it's him from a mile away. Sabo thinks it's his memory playing with him, but then he remembers Sanji's sudden death without any explanation and blames his young self for not realizing sooner what truly happened. What's funny is that Sanji had the same reaction, because when Luffy talks about Sabo for the first time, he freezes at the name. But he guesses it can't really be him, and Luffy doesn't talk enough about him for Sanji to make the correlation.

But no, yeah, it's definitely him.

As you said, they both freeze. And it's actually kind of weird because everybody is looking at them, but they're only focusing on each other so it's also extremely romantic. Sabo tries to act calm and collected when he asks Luffy if he can speak to Sanji in private, and Luffy instantly says:

Luffy: It's to ask for extra food, right?! I am not going to steal yours like when we were kids! I don't do that anymore! Usopp: He still does that. Luffy: But Sabo can have whatever he wants! Sanji will make it! But not more than me. I'm sure you're gonna do it just to piss me of- Sabo: Luffy, you can have all of my food if you want to. Just let me talk to him for a second. Luffy: ?? But why?! It's been so long. I want to be with you! Sabo: Because- Sanji: If you let us talk in private I'll give you two desserts. And more meat. We'll have whatever you want tonight. Luffy: OH! AWESOME! Nami: What is this about again? Franky: Yeah... It looks like you two know each other. Sanji: Who says we don't? Luffy: YOU TWO KNOW EACH OTHER? Sabo: No. Not- Luffy. Give us a moment. *They go into the kitchen together* Zoro: First he's a prince and now he's fucking Luffy's brother. Are we sure Curly doesn't have anything else to tell us? Luffy: He's not- Nami: Shut up!! I can't listen to their conversation through the door if you keep talking!

(She doesn't hear them at all, actually, because the others keep talking and Sabo and Sanji are pretty quiet and she gets bored of trying to spy on them).

They don't really know what to do except to stare at each other. Sanji is about to make some joke or something to make things lighter, but Sabo goes and instantly hugs him tight. Sanji feels he's about to start crying. Especially when Sabo says "I thought you were dead" / "Well, I am not" / "I can see that" / "I- I'm sorry. I truly hoped we could meet but- Things have been a little- Fuck. Just. I'm sorry. Judge- My-" / "Yes. I know. I mean. I don't know, but it's obvious you don't want to talk about it now and I know it's your shitty father's fault. Don't worry about it" / "... Alright" / "Is it weird if I don't want to let go of you?" / "Shut up. You're the one making it weird" / "You grew up. Quite a lot. Remembered you so tiny and cute" / "Oh, fuck you, I am not-" / "Still cute, though" / "You were nicer to me back then" / "You were less sarcastic" / "Touche" / "Hey! So you finally got to be a cook! And for the future king of the pirates! How does that feel?" / "Tiring. Exhausting. Frustrating... A dream come true" / "....... You look happier" / "I am.... Hey? Can you keep like- Holding me for a while? Because-" / "It's okay. Yes. If I let go of you I might start sobbing. This is fine. As long as we don't move, we're fine" / "Great". (Also have in mind that this is post-wano so Sanji is extremely sensitive and wants to kind of sort of die. This is probably the best thing that has happened to him lately. Or ever)

And this is getting reaaaally long already so to end this just say that they definitely end up kissing at some point and dating and then uh, things™ happen. But just think about them having a happy ending. I- I want to write a fanfic now. You can't do that to me. Ughhh. What if I did- What if I did write this fic- Thinking thoughts.

[shannonsketches]

He said "Fuck this shit, I'm out" I'm crying. Toriyama's Vegeta was so top shelf 🤌

(From Neko Majin Z Chapter 5!)

[sciderman]

(Idk if someone asked this already) since we’re on the topic of gender

sci what is gender to you and how do you see it in you and how you express it in your art?? (Just a young queer artist who wants some light shined upon them 🥺)

i 'unno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[californiannostalgia]

sometimes I think

hey maybe it's that time again

it's that time to write an abuse survivor mental illness fic with lester papadopoulus and maybe that will help me figure out what the fuck is going on in my brain

maybe my obsession with normalcy and potential dangers and spiraling late at night and being suspicious of people and the hollow disgust at the desperately cheerful person I become around my (changed behavior) parents isn't normal people stuff

maybe I'm gonna be afraid forever incomprehensible forever non-normal forever and maybe apollo wants to say a few words on the subject