#but like…. I’ve *tried* to get into more modern shows
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randum-famdoms · 11 hours ago
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Prev’s tags are too interesting to lose
Also it’s not just tv; it’s movies too I think. Live action American sci-fi/action movies to be specific. I can only think of a couple made since streaming got big that I felt like I actually knew who the characters were, and liked them, and felt like they actually cared about each other. Other genres have this problem too (comedy comes to mind), but none so extreme as in action and sci-fi. Feels like lately it’s all just rewrites of the same script but with different set dressing and they forget that you also have to have characters, not just a half a concept and a tired plot with cgi sprinkles.
I know the characters’ names and maybe a motive if I’m lucky and that’s it. Then one of em dies or is kidnapped or whatever and the other characters are so heartbroken and like… did they even know each other? Cause they met like a day ago and haven’t had a single conversation longer than a couple minutes, and they only talked about Plot Things.
There are some standouts obviously, The Equaliser series comes to mind, but it’s the exception, not the norm
I don't know what those '90s sci Fi TV writers were putting in their shows but I wish they'd start doing it again
#I don’t really watch a ton of tv#but I rewatch shows A LOT#mainly ones from the 2000’s and 2010’s#ATLA and The Librarians are my favs but I also rewatch Castle and the Ziva seasons of NCIS a lot#and the latter two tend not to have filler episodes per day but they do have eps that focus more on the B-plots compared to usual#but like…. I’ve *tried* to get into more modern shows#trust me I TRIED#but they’re just so fucking serious about everything#it makes it hard to like any of the characters#like okay but when are you gonna tell me about yourself#oh nooo they have a tragic backstory and/or a job#cool but what do you do for fun? what Str your hobbies? what are you like when the world isn’t ending?#and for the love of GOD just fucking talk to someone about something that isn’t plotty#character A will be kidnapped and character B reacts like someone killed a dog in front of them#and I’m sitting there like ‘since when are you friends????’#I think that anime does a better job at capturing what used to make tv fun and good and enjoyable#while still having more variety in length#for example: Sk8 the infinity is short enough to watch in one sitting and still get groceries the same day#toilet bound hanako kun is a bit longer but still short#my hero academia is long#one piece is scary and probably a bigger file size than most video games in its entirety#the first two examples are also things I rewatch constantly (BNHA used to be but lately I’ve been not as obsessed)#and I’d like to say that movies aren’t exempt from this problem either#one could argue that the length makes it hard to flesh out relationships while still having a strong plot and I’d like to raise you:#animation.#some examples of movies that make me believe these people are friends:#rise of the guardians; SpiderMan: spiderverse (both movies); all the how to train your dragon movies; and more#but I’d be hard pressed to list many live action American movies off the top of my head; especially any made after streaming got popular#like yes there are a lot but compared to the vast number of movies being made?#especially action and sci-fi movies
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h-sleepingirl · 3 days ago
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You Are A Wizard, So Pour Over The Tomes
Hypnosis is magic. It is not just “the closest we can get to magic.” Trance practices in all kinds of forms have served as the basis for mysticism across cultures and human history -- thousands of years. It is not new. It is not western. It did not start with Franz Mesmer or James Braid or Milton Erickson or Wiseguy.
Modern hypnosis stems from a rich human history of fascination and spiritual veneration of the mind’s power. We are practitioners of a comparably new discipline where we can literally change the way that other people experience the world. Their innermost selves are as leverage to us -- putty to us, when we know what we are doing. We can transform others freely. We can give pleasure or pain. We can facilitate experiences that seem to defy reality.
People talk a big game about respecting that power. What they usually mean by that is respecting EACH OTHER. That’s crucial, obviously -- not manipulating, not harming, being a good person.
But what about respecting the discipline itself?
It’s tempting to see what we do as disconnected from the “historical” and “outdated” methods of hypnosis. But we are a part of that history. We are likely hilariously wrong about a lot of things related to trance, hypnosis, the human mind -- what will hypnosis and psychology look like in 100 years? And even as we innovate, we are always building on the techniques and ideas that came before us -- in ways we are often not even aware of. We reinvent; we use ideas from the past unknowingly.
We have a right -- and a responsibility -- to OWN our magic. I am not here to gatekeep and say that this magic is not yours. It IS yours; it’s unequivocally yours. But as a whole we could do more to respect it.
“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” And hypnosis is not even a technology that we UNDERSTAND. The only real reason we DON’T see ourselves as wizards is because there is a huge motivation to legitimize hypnosis as a scientific discipline -- and non-rationalist perspectives are looked down upon in our culture. I’m not anti-science (maybe a little -- tongue in cheek) but I do think that labeling hypnosis as “just psychology” is dishonest about how much we actually objectively know about it -- and does a disservice to the phenomenon itself.
I’m not saying hypnosis is literally metaphysical. But I am saying we practice something very powerful without knowing its nature. There are secrets we have tried to suss out about this magic through history that we have written down -- past and present. We actually have tomes of knowledge, records of past experiments and modern inventors.
In the last couple of years, I’ve started teaching/facilitating “text studies” -- classes where we sit down with an excerpt from a hypnosis book and parse through it as a collaborative group. I desperately want to show people that there is value in just critically reading the resources available to us. The clinical texts -- especially older ones -- are hard to read, like they are almost in a different language. But it is amazing the insights we have come to by tackling them together.
These old texts are not pure truths -- there is a lot we’ve improved on over time. But we can learn a lot by learning what hypnosis was like historically. The entire discipline of hypnosis is extremely susceptible to change -- it is defined SO MUCH by how we view it culturally. I just recently was amazed at re-reading some Erickson where he talks about making his subjects daydream autonomously -- as a primary mode and result of inducing hypnosis. Contrast that with today, where if someone’s mind wanders for even a moment, they feel like they’ve failed. There’s something really important here -- a technique from 50 years ago that tells us something we’ve lost in modern practice.
And there are countless examples of this, of people losing and reinventing methods over and over. As I’ve watched our kinky niche grow over just the past 13 years, I’ve watched ideas phase in, out, and in again -- there is both growth and regression of our collective body of knowledge. That’s the nature of things, especially when we operate partially disconnected from the resources that are available to us.
We CAN be connected to the rich human history of trying to unravel the secrets about our minds, and about this thing that gives us enormous transformative powers -- powers that we take for granted.
You are a wizard -- so pour over the tomes.
Read a book. Read an article. Set aside some time and view yourself with the respect of being someone who can study and suss out a magical text. Take notes, look up words and concepts you don’t know. Or just absorb what you can on a first pass and go back later. Read a chapter or just master a single page. Romanticize the aesthetic of sitting with the scent of paper, or as the technomancer with words appearing on a screen.
Read. Own this art. And bring that respect of this art to the people you share it with. I promise you can do things with hypnosis that you have never thought possible.
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This is a little motivational piece (for you and me!) as I gear up to teach "Analyzing Erickson" at Charmed. It's something I feel really passionately about, and I wanted to share it.
Permanently linked/free on Patreon.
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risestarkiss · 1 year ago
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✨The Fashionista✨
Rise Ramblings #234
While watching “The Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle,” I noticed something.
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I found it interesting that Raph, Mikey, and Leo were content with Raph’s outfit choice until Donnie stated that he wasn’t “in love with it, ya’ know.”
Suddenly, Raph declares “I’m a disaster!” Albeit ridiculously endearing, it was a little strange to see his sudden shift from moderately content to absolute dissatisfaction. Huh…
Then, the disaster twins decide to help him out.
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Take a note of their outfit choices.
Raph tries on all of these fits and more.
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Donnie’s first choice is a mild “no.” Leo’s choice is a hard “NO.” (Not surprising, lol.) But then, the overwhelming consensus lands on Raph’s fourth outfit, which ended up being Donatello’s other pick for his brother.
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So, in summary, Raph tried on his personal choice for an outfit, of which they rejected. Then, ultimately, Donatello picked out an outfit for his brother, and that pick ended up being perfect. Hmm…
Then I noticed something else. In this episode, we never get a Donnie “curtain reveal” moment, to our disdain. I mean, Raph, Leo, and Mikey got to try on several different outfits in order to get their brothers' opinions before landing on that “perfect outfit, you know the one.” All of his brothers got to shine. Why not DonTron?
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Then it hit me.
The try-ons were to get their brothers' opinions and approval. And, for his brothers' choices, he was a major contributor in assisting them in pulling their looks together.
What if, bear with me, Donnie didn’t need the "curtain scene" because he was so confident in his fashion sense that he didn’t need to ask his brothers for help to pick out a great look.
…or they figured out how to break Hypno’s spell before he could get a “curtain reveal.” BUT STILL-
Look at his outfit choices in this episode. Some of his wardrobe changes were off-screen, but all of them were fire.
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(I added the baseball cap pic because it makes me happy. I wish we'd seen more of that fit.)
To me, he makes some really smart choices for himself, pushing the envelope of what is expected and taking chances: an open collar with no tie for a “black tie” event, a beanie and spiked wristbands for their “gansta look,” no socks with loafers (a viral fashion trend that actually began in Africa) with old man slacks in his reclined pose. *muah* Chef’s kiss!
But Don’s fashion sense doesn’t just shine in this episode.
In “Reparin’ the Baron” the boys go to Draxum’s apartment. Leo and Donnie show up in some extra nice “Sunday Dinner” twin drip.
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The gold is in the details. Everything Leo is wearing, Donnie rocks its compliment: for Leo’s round collar, Donnie’s is angled, for Leo’s blue shirt, Donnie’s is white, For Leo’s light slacks, Donnie’s are dark. Blah blah blah. It’s so good!
Look at the winter fit in Snow Day.
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Again, Donnie is Leo’s perfect compliment. As a pair? Fire.
Donnie has “the eye.” I can go on and on with examples, but I’ve said all of that to say this…
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In the future, we see that Donatello’s technology had major pull in the resistance. He had drone ships patrolling the skies. He built and designed Leo’s arm, Casey’s chainsaw-hockey stick, and Casey's mask. The list goes on…
But, when Donatello from the past see’s Casey’s clothing from the future, he says this:
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We know about the “Genius Built” brand. We’ve seen that logo on all of his tech up to this point. But, here he didn’t just say “Genius Built.” He said, “Genius Built Apparel.”
“Apparel” is not a tech brand. “Apparel” is a fashion brand. Of course, tech is incorporated into the clothing, but still.
This means that past Donatello secured this trademark with plans of creating a fashion brand, comparable to the likes of Gucci, Ralph Lauren, or any other modern clothing brand, as a subsidiary of “Genius Built,” the tech company.
And why not? The evidence has been in front of us this entire time. He has a sharp eye for style, fashion, and trends. It is easily canon that he can sew. Splinter sewed their ninja garbs in “Insane in the Mama Train,” and there is a sewing machine in the house.
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They already learned Ninjutsu through basically osmosis, so learning to sew is not too far-fetched.
And here it is, right in front of us, Casey’s entire ensemble, from mask, to weapons, to clothing, was made by Donatello in the middle of the apocalypse under the brand name “Genius Built Apparel.”
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And that was just in the bad future. Resources were limited, they didn’t have access to much of anything in that broken world as they were survivors of a devastating Krang invasion. Yet, he created all of this.
However, now that they’ve changed the future, his future as a fashion designer is limitless. Think of what Donatello could produce with unlimited resources, unlimited technology, and unlimited creative freedom.
Tech genius. Clothing designer. Fashionista. Future Genius Built Apparel Owner and CEO. I’m sorry, but I have to call it...
Donatello Hamato of the present, of the bad future, and of the good future is a fashion icon, the likes of which the world has never seen. ○○○○
Update: I've decided to make this concept into a mini-comic series!
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selfishdoll · 1 year ago
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NOW PLAYING…. TOUCH
Just back into it, and let it touch
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JJK MEN & THEIR REACTIONS TO YOU USING THEIR CROTCH TO SHOW OFF YOUR NAILS
ft. kashimo hajime, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, & takuma ino.
cw: modern au (?), suggestive content (ofc) ooc characters(?), reader being a little shit, etc.
i’ve always found this tiktok trend adorable, and thought it would be nice to write hcs on with them. these are unedited so excuse typos and other mistakes. i might do more later.
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KASHIMO HAJIME.
the nail designs you chose were cute, but a little cheesy. a simple cyan base with purple lighting bolts on each ring finger.
you came back from the shop to spot kashimo resting on your couch, clearly tired from either fighting a curse or general working out. you tapped him, showcasing your nails the moment you got his attention. hajime would only give you a small smirk, leaning his head back again to rest.
the idea would then pop into your head, softly declaring you needed to take a picture to show your friend. he didn’t care enough to respond.
but, that quickly changed when you sat beside him, resting your hand right on his crotch.
what are you doing?
you shushed him a bit, declaring his white pants were a perfect background. a plausible excuse, one that he believed less and less when he realized you were massaging him through his pants.
he allowed it to go on for a moment before he snatched your wrist, pulling you closer to him.
don’t start something you can’t finish, [y/n].
and well, you spent the rest of that evening facing the consequences of your actions. you never did send that picture.
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GOJO SATORU.
probably asked you to get his tip color. you refused, much to his dismay.
you settled on a pretty blue and white design, curtesy of his eyes and hair. you sent a picture of it to him while in the shop; your lover hearting the image instantly.
on the way home, you were scrolling through your tiktok feed and came across the trend. a cheshire like grin covered your features soon after.
making it home, gojo wasn’t busy with anything, simply sitting on the couch and watching some random show. he greeted you and attempted to get touchy, only for you to declare you had to take a picture of your nails first.
just use the one you sent me?
no, baby, i wanna use a different one.
although confused, the man shrugged a bit, focus turning back to the tv. you sat on the couch beside him, humming as your phone hovered above your hand that rested on your thigh. taking a quick glance to assure he wasn’t looking, you reached over, placing your hand right on his crotch.
gojo noticed you instantly, eyes falling from the tv screen and over to your hand, eyebrows pinched close. he said nothing however, simply watching you closely. the moment you began to rub him, however, he was adjusting his hips eyes lifting to yours, adoring an are you serious? expression.
what’s wrong? you tried to play dumb, all while your hand still moved, not so secretly anymore. gojo would only grin at you, pretty dimples exposed, turning back to the tv.
nothing.
in that moment his hand reached over to your bare thigh, gently tapping it; fingers stroking the inside of them.
this had now became a game of who would crack first.
and much to your dismay, you always did.
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GETO SUGURU.
your choice of design was a black base with his initials on each ring finger. when sending a picture to the man he complimented them, and was clearly happy his name was on your fingers.
you had been planning to do the trend on him the moment you saw it, booking an appointment the next day. you just wanted to see his reaction, to see if your normally calm and collected boyfriend would react differently.
you were basically rushing into the house the moment you locked your car, entering to spot him on the couch reading a book. you two greeted each other with a soft kiss the moment you walked over.
you really like my nails, suguru?
mhm.
lemme show gojo. you hummed, pulling your phone from your pocket. you bit the inside of your cheek, reaching over and planting your hand right on his crotch. you felt his eyes on you for a moment before they drifted back to his book. which, frustrated you.
and so, you adjusted your hand, a false mumble of needing a better angle exiting you. except the adjusting didn’t stop, seeing as you began to gradually rub your palm up and down his crotch.
you jumped a bit as he shut his book closed, grabbing your wrist and pushing it against his hardening length even more.
now, you deal with it? understand?
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NANAMI KENTO.
much to nanami’s embarrassment, you used his tip color. he tried to talk you out of it, but it happened. how they color matched it was above him. and why you did such a thing was above him as well. but, he did have to admit the nails were still pretty.
when you got home the man was busy with some paperwork at his desk, grumbling to himself every once in a while. you walked over with a gentle smile, watching his tense shoulders fall the moment you made your presence known.
you then showed off your nails, nanami simply shaking his head with a smile.
you got a bit needy the moment his eyes turned back to his desk however, biting the inside of your cheek before a brilliant idea popped into your mind. you find a chair beside his desk, scooting a bit close to his own. which wasn’t suspicious, you did that often.
what was suspicious was you reaching over, placing your hand onto his crotch.
[y/n]…
just trynna get a good picture. your pants are the perfect color. the excuse left you quickly, hearing the man sigh softly to himself but allowing your hand to remain there.
that was until, you began to carefully slide your hand up and down his crotch— back and forth. nanami didn’t left it go on for long before he was grabbing you by the forearm, pulling you up from your chair and over to his lap.
oh, ken, your paperwork..
that can wait. can’t ignore you when you’re being so damn needy..
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TAKUMA INO.
to ino’s surprise, you somehow got your nail lady to carefully draw his masked face on your ring finger. the moment you sent the picture he was amazed and very happy. something you found adorable.
so of course you decided to toy with him.
coming home you spotted the man not really doing anything, simply resting on the couch. he smiled up at you, eyes following you as you walked over to sit beside him. his arm came to wrap around you, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment; simply watching tv.
until you swore softly, pulling your phone from your pocket. gotta take a picture for a friend.. you would mumble, something ino barely acknowledged.
the moment your hand was on his crotch, however, his eyes fell from the tv quickly, staring down at your hand.
uh, y/n…
sorry baby, just gotta use your pants. you claimed, the man muttering nervous ok, going completely still— clearly not wanting to mess up your photo. you smiled at this, nearly feeling bad for what you were about to do to him.
slowly you carried your palm up and down his crotch, feeling the hand on your hip twitch. continuing the facade, you tilted your phone every so often, attempting to find the correct position; all while poor ino attempted to calm his rising hard on. he tried so hard too.
just as you felt his hard length through his sweats, you snapped a photo, rising from the couch— placing a chaste kiss to his cheek on the way.
thanks baby, imma take a quick shower.
needless to say, ino was a bit confused and disappointed, only able to give you a small nod— watching you walk away. ignorant to the fact you were holding in your laughter.
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vampiefemme · 10 months ago
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞! ** 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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summary: modern au; ellie moves to a big city to escape the past. she goes to her first lesbian bar, where she meets you.
cw: porn with…a whisper of plot; alcohol use, fingering (e!receiving), strap-on sex, bottom!ellie, slightly sub!ellie, she’s whiny here
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Ellie’s never been to a lesbian bar.
It’s surreal - banners of colorful pride flags are strung across the room, some of which she can’t even identify. Distressed and faded posters are plastered on the stone walls, advertising drag shows and queer punk bands with names like The Cranky Dykes and T-Girl Social. Nearly every patron is tatted or pierced, and there’s more platform boots and fishnet clothing than Ellie’s ever seen in one place before. Before she’d moved to the city, Ellie had lit up with excitement at the thought of visiting a lesbian bar. But now, in her worn Harley Davidson tee and a pair of jeans with unintentional rips at the knees, she feels very much out of her depth. 
Steeling her nerves, she internally reminds herself that this is exactly why she’d moved in the first place - she needed new experiences. She needed unfamiliarity. What she’d left back in Texas was her normal, and she planned to build a new normal here. One that was the antithesis of everything she’d known before. 
The bar isn’t completely packed, but she does need to push past dancing, sweaty bodies, girls sucking on each other’s faces, and chatting cliques to get to the edge of the bar, where more clusters of people are calling out drink orders and thrusting wads of cash tips at the bartenders. By some miracle, an empty barstool presents itself after a drunken patron with a mohawk stumbles out of it, and Ellie swoops in to snatch it before someone else does. She sits there for a good few minutes, trying to capture a bartender’s attention, until someone shuffles up beside her and sticks a hand out to wave one over. And, of course, they notice immediately, heading over with a towel slung over their shoulder. Ellie sinks lower into her seat, cheeks burning.
“I’ll have a spicy marg,” the woman beside Ellie says, voice projecting loud enough to hear over the clamor of music and chatter. The bartender nods, then goes to step away, but the woman next to Ellie stops her, speaking with that attention-commanding voice.
“What are you having?” 
The bartender’s gaze shifts to Ellie, still hunched over and beet-red in the face. She flushes impossibly redder when she looks up at the woman who’d just ordered, realizing that the question had been directed at her. 
“Oh,” she blurts, posture straightening. She glances at the woman, anxiety flaring, then back at the bartender. “Um, an old fashioned. Please. Thanks.”
Just as quickly as they’d come, the bartender disappears again, off to pour precisely-measured shots and mix cocktails in shiny silver shakers. Ellie’s hands are in her lap, fiddling restlessly, when she finally forces herself to look up at the woman who’d practically had to order for her. 
You smile at her when she meets your gaze. Though she’s trying to be subtle about it, you can feel the way Ellie drinks in your every feature, eyes flickering over your face, then your body. It’s obvious that she likes what she sees, because she has a hard time looking you in the eye again. 
“Thanks,” she says. “I’ve been trying to order for a while.”
“So I saw,” you respond, but not unkindly. You take a moment to look her over, although you’d already done plenty of that before you’d even approached her - you had seen her from across the bar, looking forlorn, her leg bouncing beneath the edge of the bar as she tried (and failed) to order herself a drink. Her lack of confidence is what piqued your interest; it was hard to believe that someone that gorgeous wasn’t oozing arrogance and self-importance. She’s all lean muscles and shaggy hair, her forearm decorated with a sprawling fern tattoo. You could already imagine yourself running your hands through that hair, kissing the length of her sharp jawline, pulling those narrow hips up against your own. 
At a lesbian bar, a hot girl who couldn’t carry herself with confidence usually meant one of two things: she’s fresh out of a breakup, or she’d never been somewhere like this. You’re determined to find out which of the two applies to her.
“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.” You angle your body to face Ellie, popping your hip out as subtly as you can. 
Ellie, determined to keep her eyes on your face and not the curve of your hip or the delicious sliver of cleavage peeking out of your square-neck top, peers up at you from behind her bangs. “Uh, yeah, I’ve never been. I just moved here. I’m Ellie - what’s your name?”
You tell her your name and she repeats it slowly, like she’s tasting every syllable. “Pretty.”
Your drinks arrive before you can fumble for a response. 
“Spicy marg, old fashioned,” the bartender lists as they slide your drinks over the smooth wood of the bar. Ellie murmurs her thanks and you nod at the bartender before they disappear, your hand curling around the glass. 
“Cheers?” You tip your drink towards Ellie. She clinks her own glass against yours and the two of you take your first sips, the bitterness of the alcohol burning its way down your throat. You feel it settle in your stomach, warm and satisfying. 
“So,” you begin, licking jalapeño and lime-tinged tequila from your lips. Ellie’s eyes follow the movement for a moment before she catches herself and looks away. “Where’d you move from?”
Ellie smiles shyly. You watch her index finger trace the rim of her glass. “Texas.”
“Oh?” One of your brows lifts. “And what made you want to move here, Texas?”
“For one, I’m gay.” 
“Thank you for stating the obvious.”
She lets out a little laugh, and the sound makes you want to grin - you take a sip of your margarita instead. 
“I just… Couldn’t be there anymore,” she elaborates. “It wasn’t right for me. I needed to start fresh.”
You don’t say anything for a moment, letting Ellie’s words sink in. Clearly, something severe enough had happened to make her want to shed her life in Texas like an old skin. And this lesbian bar, filled with every unique kind of queer this city had to offer, was part of this new version of Ellie - the version she’d chosen to build from the ground up. You’re struck by how brave Ellie must be for that. And yeah, maybe she’d struggled to order a drink for herself, but that didn’t take away from her bravery - not when she’d willfully chosen to uproot her life, a decision most people could never follow through with. 
“I’m impressed,” you say honestly. “And I hope the city gives you what you’re looking for.”
The corners of Ellie’s lips twitch, and that pretty blush fights its way onto her cheeks again. You’re about to say something when you hear the first notes of one of your favorite songs thumping through the speakers, a few other bargoers cheering to express their own excitement. 
“Dance with me,” you say to Ellie, reaching forward with your free hand to grab her forearm. She looks up at you like a deer in headlights.
“I can’t dance.”
“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead. C’mon.”
“I don’t know if—”
“Didn’t you come here to try new things?” You curl your fingers around Ellie’s wrist, and she lets you pull her to her feet. You’ve made a good point, and she doesn’t argue again - just follows you to the dancefloor, where dozens of others are already moving to the beat of the music, hips rolling, heads nodding. The lights pulsate in the vibrant colors of the rainbow, the crowd painted shades of sunset orange, hot pink, deep indigo. You sip your drink and start to dance, turning to face Ellie; she’s gaping at you, unmoving. 
“Come here,” you say, having to shout over the music. Ellie steps closer to you as you move to the rhythm, hips swishing. You’re wearing a pair of flared pants that makes your ass look incredible, and after Ellie finally starts to dance along with you, you turn around to bring your backside closer to her. As if by instinct, Ellie’s arm loops around your waist - she presses her palm into the front of your pelvis, rolls her hips against your ass. You grin, wide and self-satisfied, as you lift your drink to your lips again - only to realize it’s almost gone. You make a mental note to head back to the bar after this song, but for now, you enjoy the last few drops of your margarita, revelling in the feeling of Ellie’s hand, strong on your hip, as she presses ever-closer into you from behind. 
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Ellie’s in awe of you. 
The way you’d strolled up beside her at the bar, posture proud, buying Ellie a drink and flirting with her like it was easy, natural. The way you’d let your eyes wander over her figure, not shy at all about the lust in your gaze. The way you’d dragged her to the dancefloor and ground your ass back against her, smelling like lime and tequila and something headier, something distinctly you. 
Now, after two strong drinks and several songs-worth of dancing with you, Ellie’s so turned on she feels like a live wire, sparks erupting from her every nerve. 
On the dancefloor, Ellie had looped her arm around your hips, leaning in so close she could smell the liquor on your breath. You’d needed to fight down every urge to kiss her first - you weren’t even sure if she’d ever kissed another woman before, and you’d already done enough to pull her out of her shell for the night. But Ellie had leaned her forehead against yours, noses brushing, eyes fluttering shut… And your mouths had crashed together in the sort of kiss you’re going to have a very hard time forgetting.
After making out in the crowd like that for god knows how long, you’d invited Ellie back to your apartment. Which brings you to your current predicament: Ellie’s backed up against the front door, your hand under her shirt, fingers dancing over every inch of her deliciously solid abdomen. If Ellie’s inexperienced, she’s doing a fabulous job of pretending she isn’t. But you’re not sure just how innocent she is now, as she moans unabashedly into your mouth, your hand squeezing her tits over her sports bra. 
“Hey,” you breathe, pulling back from the heated kiss you’d been sharing. 
“Mm?” Ellie blinks at you, dazed. You want to ruin her. 
“Is this okay?” You peck at her lips, then her cheek. “We don’t have to… Do anything. Not if you don’t want to.” 
Ellie’s bangs are gorgeously tousled, and she looks at you like a kicked puppy - all round eyes and furrowed brows, worried you’re taking something from her. “But I… I want to.” 
“You sure?” 
Ellie nods. 
“Have you ever been with another woman before?” Your stomach twists at the directness of your own question, but you really want to know. Need to know. A bar hookup might not be the best way for her to pop her cherry - or, at least, her gay cherry. 
Then again, it’s not exactly unheard of in the community.
“Yeah. I have,” Ellie says, her hand reaching out to grab your hip. 
You find yourself wanting to pry, dig deeper for more information, but there’s no real reason for it. She’s not entirely new to this. She wants you. That’s all that really matters, right?
So you take her to your bedroom, let her undress you with shaky, calloused hands, kiss her slow and sweet while she unbuttons her jeans and kicks them aside. You help each other undress until you’re both naked, and then you’re stumbling into bed, your legs straddling Ellie’s hips as you kiss down her neck, stopping to suck pretty purple bruises into the sensitive skin. Ellie makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper, sending another white-hot jolt of arousal through you. Your cunt is spread over her pelvis, and you grind down against her like that, letting out a pleased sound of your own.
 “God, you’re so hot,” Ellie mutters, watching you roll your hips as you kiss down to her chest. She reaches for your tits, squeezes them in her palms. 
“Yeah?” You smile, sharp and wolfish, down at Ellie. She looks at you like she can’t believe this is happening - like she can’t believe you’re real. “Gonna let me fuck you, Ellie?”
She moans at the obscenity of the question, nodding quickly. “Yes, god, please fuck me.”
“Mm,” you hum, “need to get you ready first, baby.”
Ellie’s breathing is ragged, her hips lifting, seeking friction. You climb down her body until you’re settled between her legs, pulling her knees apart to give yourself access to her center. She’s fucking soaked - you bite your lip at the sight of her, clit swollen and puffy, labia shining with arousal. 
You start with one finger, dipping into the wetness pooled at her entrance and spreading it up to her clit, drawing sharp breaths and staggering moans from Ellie’s kiss-bitten lips. Every sound she makes has you yearning to hear more, more. You slide your middle finger into her clenching hole and groan when you feel her walls open up smoothly around the digit. She pulses around you, hot and slick. When you begin pumping your finger in and out of that tight heat, Ellie’s noises become even more drawn-out, even more frantic - you look up at her and find her eyes already on you, dark with lust, a desperate, pleading expression etched onto her face. 
“You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” you coo at her, revelling in the way her pussy tightens at your words. 
“I–nngh, fuck–I need…” She trails off, jaw clenching. 
You fake-pout at her, puff out your lower lip in faux sympathy. “What is it? What do you need?”
“Need more,” Ellie pants out.
“I can give you more, sweetheart,” you reassure her, “all you had to do was ask.”
So, you give her more. You slip another finger inside of her, press the heel of your hand against the sensitive nub of her clit; your fingers curl upwards in the warmth of her cunt, finding that spongy, sensitive spot that’ll make her see stars. She whines - actually fucking whines, high-pitched and desperate, as if to say yes, right there.
“Shit, oh my god…” Ellie’s hands are clutching the sheets, knuckles blanched. “‘M so close.”
You don’t let up, and it only takes a few more moments of your careful ministrations before Ellie’s falling apart, a mess of jolting hips, strangled gasps, and a rush of wetness. You watch her come undone, wishing you could committ the sight to memory. After, you lick your fingers clean.
While Ellie’s spent and recovering from the height of her orgasm, you shuffle to the side of the bed to reach for your nightstand. You roll open the drawer, rummage around, and return to Ellie’s side with a tiny bottle of lube and your strap, the harness made of powder pink fabric. The brunette sighs contentedly when you lean over to kiss her, swiping her sweat-damp bangs away from her forehead. 
“You taste so good, did you know that?” You press another kiss to the corner of Ellie’s lips, feeling the way they twitch into a smile. 
“I really doubt it,” Ellie says.
You scoff. “Don’t doubt my taste.”
“Mm, okay. Fine. I believe you.”
Fighting your own smile, you move back to sit on your heels, cheeks heating when you notice Ellie’s eyes roaming over your naked body. 
“Need something?” 
Ellie nods, then sits up and pulls you in for another kiss, her hand on the back of your neck. “I want you to really fuck me now.” 
“Oh yeah?” You grin at her, your hands making their way to her tits and smoothing over her pebbled nipples. “Think you should learn some manners, Ellie. How about please?”
Her expression goes soft - eyes rounding, mouth pursing. 
“Please,” she says, and her voice is so sweet, it might rot your teeth. “Please fuck me.”
And who are you to deny her what she needs?
As it turns out, Ellie’s pussy was made to take strap. She’s leaned over, face down in one of your pillows, her ass propped up perfectly to give you access to her cunt. Still soaked from her last orgasm, she hardly needs any lube, the strap pushing into her all the way to the hilt without any resistance; she keens when you’re fully seated inside of her, a sound that makes your own pussy throb with need. Every noise she makes is pure heaven - you wish you could record them all, listen to them when you’re in bed at night with your hand between your thighs. 
“Fuuuuck,” Ellie cries out when you hit that sweet spot with the tip of the strap, her head shifting to lean on one side, allowing you to see the look on her face - the roll of her eyes, the way her lips part to let out each of her gasps and moans. 
“How’s that feel, princess?” You ask as you pound into her from behind; you admire the way her back arches deeper, like she’s encouraging you to fuck into her further and further. 
“S-so good,” Ellie stutters weakly. 
“Yeah? Doing so good for me, baby,” you pant. Every slam of your hips against Ellie’s ass makes her grunt, a pleased little sound, short and needy. 
That tiny grunt turns into an impatient whine when you pull out of her entirely, a lewd, wet noise accompanying the motion. 
“Why’d you stop?” Ellie asks, voice small. She cranes her neck to look back at you and the expression on her face is absolutely pathetic.
You give her ass a playful smack, admiring the way it recoils from the contact of your palm. “Want you to flip over. I need to see you come again, you looked so pretty the first time.” 
She does as instructed - she’s already so good at following directions, you’ve learned. When Ellie’s on her back, her face, neck, and chest tinged red with equal parts arousal and exertion, you lean in and whisper praises to her, lining the strap up to her entrance and pushing into her again. 
“Hold your legs up, sweetheart,” you instruct, pushing her thighs up until they’re folded against her body. She nods, panting, and lifts her hands up to hold her legs in place. You slip deeper into her like this; Ellie goes cross-eyed, lips pursed into a pretty “o” shape as you fuck her senseless. It doesn’t take much longer for her to get close again, and when her legs begin to shake with the effort of holding them up for you, you tell her to relax.
“Play with your clit, hm? I want you to come.” 
Ellie nods. “Y-yeah, I can do that. For you.”
“Just for me?” You grin.
“Mm, just for you.”
Her hand shakes as she brings it between her legs, drawing sloppy circles over her clit with her fingers. You keep fucking her, hips snapping restlessly, every lewd squelch of her cunt making you gush wetter and wetter. But as desperate as you are to come, you’re more focused on Ellie - the way she bites her lip, her entire body tense with her impending orgasm. She warns you before she finally tips over the edge: an endless chant of right there, I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, oh my god…
You’re not sure how long you lie there on top of Ellie, still buried inside her, before her breathing finally rights itself again. You spend that time kissing all over her face and running your hands through her auburn hair, untangling a few knotted locks in the process. You’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat, bodies glistening, but neither of you seems to mind. Content to lie there together, you rest until Ellie pulls you in for a kiss - one that turns needy and sloppy not long after. 
“Can I taste you?” Ellie asks between kisses, her lips shiny with saliva. She says it with such hope, like she’s not sure what you’ll say. But you’re still drenched between your legs, inner thighs sticky with it. 
“There’s nothing I want more right now,” you confess. 
So Ellie finds a place between your legs, mouth latching to your clit like it’s muscle memory. You curl a fist into her hair and guide her every move, murmuring instructions, which she follows like the good girl she is. The night continues that way - all whispered pleas and tremoring orgasms, tangled limbs and slick-coated fingers, until the two of you finally doze off, wrapped in each other’s warmth.
And Ellie thinks she’s made a good decision, moving here. Trying something new.
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moonstruckme · 4 months ago
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Hi! My inbox is being evil again (it's trying to keep us apart!) and temporarily deleting the exact requests I want to find, so here's a copy+paste of the request I got and thank you so much anon :)
could you do a james x fem!reader where he helps her through a particularly bad panic attack and then just cuddles her and grounds her again? i get them all the time and the thought of the comfort just makes me feel better :,)
cw: modern au, panic attack
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 730 words
James knows it’d be no help to tell you how scared these attacks make him, but they do make him very scared. He imagines it’s not too different from your reasoning right now; he knows, ultimately, that you’ll be alright, but the thought doesn’t provide as much comfort as it should when he’s watching you with your breaths coming quick and short and your nails digging into your own palm like you can hurt yourself worse on the surface that whatever’s doing this to you. 
He starts there. Takes your hand and uncurls your fingers, threading them through his. 
“You’re okay,” he tells you, sitting on the coffee table with his knees touching yours. He shuts the computer on your lap, easing it out of your grip to move it away. “Take a breath, sweetheart.” 
If you can still hear him you show no sign of it. A tear forms in the corner of your eye, falling when you blink. He can feel your heartbeat jumping where the base of his palm rests over your wrist. 
“Can I give you a hug?” 
There, a slight nod. James curls towards you eagerly, if a bit awkwardly, his knees on either side of your thighs and sitting a bit taller than you while he rubs your back. He makes big, sweeping circles, hoping to lull you with the slow pattern. Tears slug down your cheeks in curved lines, his shirt collecting their damp masses. 
“It’ll pass, angel. It always does, yeah? I know it feels like it’s not going to get better, but it will. You’re doing so good. So, so good, my love.” 
Your breath wheezes slightly on the way in, evidence of your diligent efforts, and when it comes out a low, pained sound comes with it. James feels it deep in his throat. He increases his pressure on your back. 
“Is this okay?” he worries, then feels shitty. You’re hardly up for questioning right now. He tries to sound certain. “Focus on my hand, angel. You’re okay, I’ve got you. Take a big breath for me.” 
He feels you try, your little sob when it doesn’t go as deep as either of you want. 
“I can’t—” 
“You can, it’s alright. You’re already doing so much better, see? It’s going away.” 
This one is worse than some of the others James has sat through with you. It seems to take ages for your breathing to slow down, and a while after that until he feels your heart find a somewhat normal rhythm under his palm. 
He knows you’re with him, more present, when you move your legs to give him easier access to you. James adjusts eagerly, giving you a proper hug. Your crying is less stilted now. He never thought he’d be so relieved to hear you sniffle and weep on his shoulder. 
“There you are,” he sighs, holding you tight. “You did it, sweetheart.” 
“James,” you whimper. 
“I know, but you’re okay. Keep breathing nice and deep,” he reminds you, worried another one will start up. “You made it. Now all you have to do is take it easy for a while.” 
“Thank you.” Your voice is a soft, small thing. It encourages James back from you, though only far enough to see your face. One tear hangs from your bottom lashes like a dewdrop from a petal. When he kisses beneath your eye it transfers to his skin. 
“No thanks necessary.” He kisses you on your other cheek, just to make it even. “You did all the hard work yourself.” 
“Still,” you say, a bit wobbly, “thanks.” 
James frowns. He allows himself to stop rubbing that same endless circle on your back, brushes a piece of hair away from your face. “Anytime,” he tells you sincerely. 
The worst of your crying seems over, but the look you give him suggests you might start again. James likes to think of himself as a man unafraid of tears and strong emotions; he’ll let you cry all night if that’s what you need. Still, he’d prefer to avoid it. 
“How do you feel?” he asks quickly. “Do you want some water? We could go for a walk, it might help to be outside.” 
You don’t want to do either of those, but you do consent to another hug. Which, really, is a better outcome than he’d dared to hope for. 
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cindol · 1 year ago
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Hm.. masc!mikasa and her pink gf.
Mikasa Ackerman x black fem reader
tagging: @liuhko @hoesluvshanti
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tw: modern au, written in the hc format, fluff, small suggestive-ness, y/n is a lil dumb,
a/n: I’ve had this in my drafts since May yall …. 😭 I just re-wrote it up a bit . srry if it’s a bit short !!
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masc!mikasa who’s a total babe magnet to pink fem girls a lot. Her roster and ex’s are mostly just feminine pinky pink girls so it’s a surprise to nobody when she shows her new girlfriend y/n off to her friend group.
masc!mikasa was the yin to her pink hello kitty girlfriend’s yang, they were polar opposites but definitely worked. Y/n could handle mikasa’s calm and collected attitude always speaking for her sometimes at restaurants while mikasa could handle y/n’s excited extrovert personality, knowing just the right way to calm her down and listen to her.
Mikasa loved whenever y/n would coming running to show her new hello kitty charmed nails while mikasa sat on their couch with her legs spread. She gave a warm smile just touching the one hand looking at the new nails and kissing her hand saying a simple,”love them baby.” Her small compliments had a way of just making y/n melt, no matter how small.
Another way she could calm y/n down also is just listening to her and her rants. When y/n was pent up and just angry she’d listen and give her small opinions on it.
masc!mikasa matched y/n’s style perfectly also, she was the masc to y/n’s fem style. While mikasa wore nike socks and slides, tank tops with shorts and her hair tied up occasionally y/n always was wearing some pink mini skirt, a pink cami top or anything hello kitty inspired to match.
masc!mikasa loved to feed into her girlfriends pda especially with the funny cute TikTok’s she’d do with her. Letting y/n give her pink lipstick kisses all on her face and neck while she had her legs spread then the camera turning to y/n with a lipstick tube in her hand applying more lipstick.
masc!mikasa never makes y/n feel that she’s too clingy, even when she comes to mikasa asking. Mikasa just scoffs at what she says.”bullshit, don’t know what idiot made you feel like that but you’re never clingy. You’re just a lover girl baby.” That warms y/n’s heart.
masc!mikasa gets protective when she has y/n around certain men. She knows how some men can be perverted weirdos, especially when it came to sapphic women. She always made sure to watch them when they tried taking a peak under her skirt.
masc!mikasa likes teaching her girl self defense. Mikasa was proud in her ability to protect y/n but what would happen if she was never around? She feared for when y/n got in the hospital somehow or mugged so she was teaching her self defense.
“Cmon baby be serious, what if I was some burglar trying to mug you?” It just made y/n giggle at her girlfriend with a cheap mask on trying to steal the small purse she was holding.”if you were some burglar trying to mug me in a alleyway I’d just kiss ya to let me go baby!” She joked making mikasa just give into her antics and tackle her.
if y/n and masc!mikasa had an argument it wouldn’t last long. Y/n’s a huge crybaby, if mikasa even had a slightly mad tone she would get sad. Mikasa may not show it but she was exactly the same, as soon as y/n seemed hurt by her actions she was immediately trying to cheer her up or show how sorry she is.
masc!mikasa is the one who made y/n realize how toxic her family is in the first place and actually drop them. When y/n vented to her about her mother’s homophobia mikasa just had a sympathetic look.”you don’t deserve that baby, nobody deserves that.” She rubbed a hand on her arm to comfort her more.”if anything, my family will always be here when yours can’t. Levi always considers you family anyways”
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cheswirls · 6 months ago
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short asl thing based on @where-does-the-heart-lie's modern au :) i started this over a year ago but the beginning is all dialogue and felt more like a script to me i suppose??? which deflated my desire to work on it. anyway i checked it over recently and it's completely fine lmfao, self-confidence restored here we go !
-
"Yo. Aren't you usually in the middle of your shift by now?"
"I've been banned from the hospital."
"Like, for life?"
"No. For the next, uh.. Twenty-two hours."
"That's oddly specific."
"It was twenty-four, but I fell asleep after leaving the building."
"That wouldn't have to do with why they kicked you out, at all?"
"Hmmm. I'm too sleep-deprived, apparently."
"Ah. And, um, you called me because...?"
"I pressed a random number in my call log after waking up. Lucky you, I guess."
"Yeah. Right. Lucky me. And your car keys are...?"
"Confiscated."
"Ah, right, of course."
A beat of silence. Two. Three, then "Look, if you're busy, then–"
"No, no.  You called me, so I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."
"Alright. Thank–"
"Thank someone else. Also, if you fall asleep in my car, I'm taking it as express permission to drive you around wherever I want."
"Ugh, go die. I don't even know why I bothered."
"LUCKY YOU, I guess," sounds off way too loudly in his ear. "No take backs. See you in ten."
"I thought you said–" Sabo breaks off as the call ends, leaving him staring blankly at his phone's too-dim screen. He squints, turns the brightness all the way up, and still squints as the sunlight proves too strong for the display.
Ace shows up in more than ten but decidedly less than twenty minutes. Sabo doesn't waste much brain power on it, only climbing into the passenger seat and yawning into his palm while his other hand fixes the seatbelt into the buckle. Not a second too soon, too, as Ace roars the engine to life and peels away from the curb at record speed.
Ace fiddles with the radio. He turns the music up, then dial it back down to inaudible. They hit the expressway and he leans over the steering wheel, frowning with his eyes fixed on the road far ahead. Sabo yawns again and this appears to be the limit to his patience. 
"Hey, so, I had a thought after you hung up on me."
Sabo grimaces. "You mean you–"
"Today's Wednesday."
He doesn't elaborate. Sabo is too tired to process. "Yes," he follows, after a second. He glances at the sky out the front window. "What time is it?"
"Oh, uh." Ace fumbles with hand placement so he can lift his watch to his face. "Nine forty."
Sabo takes a couple beats to try and process this, moves his eyes away from the skyline, and sighs as he pulls his phone out. 2:47 is what the display reads, which sounds much more believable.
"How did the minute hand get off?" he mutters to himself, chancing a look at Ace's busted wristwatch. Ace raises a brow, taking his gaze off the road to scrutinize Sabo. "No, it doesn't matter," he mutters to himself once more, sliding his phone away back on his person and out of his hands.
"My point is," Ace continues, like he hasn't just been interrupted by a whole thing. "Your timeout will be done midday Thursday. Did they switch your days off?"
"No." Sabo sighs. "They technically gave me the next thirty-six hours. Technically closer to forty. Something like that. I go back in on Friday. Sometime.” He tries to smile and it turns out very lopsided, from that he can make out in the rearview mirror. “Can you tell I’m tired?”
“I don’t think ‘tired’ is an accurate description,” Ace quips. “When did you eat a proper meal last?”
“Uh, yesterday. Maybe.”
“Maybe??”
“A ‘proper meal’ means different things to the two of us,” Sabo huffs. “On my account it was yesterday. I’ve had food since then, of course.”
“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Ace announces before absolutely whipping it around a curve. Sabo is his passenger in the passenger seat and had fully prepared to be so when he got in the vehicle, but he’d been vastly underprepared for this sudden course of action, which is how he ends up halfway out of his seat with his cheek slammed into the cold window. Ace doesn’t quite notice his brother’s terminal velocity until the car is once again on the straight and narrow, and only then it’s because of the audible thunk Sabo’s face makes when it collides with the glass.
“Aw shit. You good bro?”
“Ow,” Sabo mutters. “If I have broken bones I’m suing your ass.”
“Well, if you’re good enough to make jokes, I think you’re better than you’re letting on.” Ace keeps the wheel steady with one knee while he takes both hands away to crack his fingers. When he glances over at Sabo again, he looks even more pathetic – like he’s becoming one with the glass. “Anyway, as I was saying.
“I’m taking your ass home. You’re going straight to sleep and while you crash, I’ll make you something decent to eat and stick it in the fridge for you to heat up later. I’ll even make you two servings to eat two different times, since you clearly can’t be trusted to take care of yourself correctly.”
“Ouch.”
“I want you to conk out for as long as your body allows. We can reset your sleep schedule tomorrow, alright? Put your phone on silent; do not answer any calls. In fact, you know what, just give it to me.
Sabo glances over to see Ace’s hand held out to him, palm up. Fingers wiggling expectantly. His lips pull up into a grimace. “I’m not doing that.”
“Fine.” Ace takes his hand back. “But you will comply with everything else.”
“Wow! It’s so funny, I didn’t realize you turned into my mother overnight! Really tapped into your mom potential, huh? Anything exciting happen in your life that would cause that? I guess I wouldn’t know, since I’ve been a zombie for the past two days.”
“There’s nothing wrong with acting like your older brother, you dipshit, especially if you keep putting yourself through the wringer like this. You go home. You sleep. You wake up and eat. You go back to sleep. Then we do laundry. Does that sound agreeable?”
“That’s negotiable, at the least,” Sabo mumbles. “I will accept good food as a form of bribery.”
“Oh, nice, because I’m flat broke at the moment.”
Sabo makes a mental note of that, and then they’re pulling into the driveway. Ace lets him exit the vehicle by himself and then promptly manhandles him all the way onto the couch where it will be easier to force his body to relax than in a real bed. Ace knows this, so he calls him weird before chucking a loose blanket at his head. Sabo is almost too tired to function at this point, so he lets Ace have the last laugh in favor of finally closing his eyes.
Coming to is a surreal experience, especially since the sun is still out. He must make a noise because Ace is suddenly within view. His limbs are tangled in the blanket and still so heavy that he doesn’t bother moving. “Thought you would be gone,” he half-groans, eyes slipping shut again for a moment.
“I did leave,” Ace confirms. “I had to go pilfer some stuff to make stew with. It’s almost done, so I’ll hang here until then.”
Pilfer. That could mean any number of things. Sabo chooses to believe in the option where Ace is an upstanding citizen, and then remembers Ace saying earlier that he had no money. He frowns and squirms on the cushions enough to where it looks like he’s checking his pockets. “Where’s my wallet, Ace?” he bluffs.
“Somewhere around here,” Ace pipes up. “Your stomach will thank you for your contributions to the Portgas Household’s pantry!”
“Ugh, I got robbed,” he complains. “This sucks. ‘m going back to sleep.” He rolls over so his back is to Ace.
“Yeah, you do you, bro. Stew will still be here later. I’ll see you when you’re back in the world of the living.”
Luffy comes in late that night and slams the front door shut as loud as humanly possible. When he appears in the main room, he doesn’t seem to be upset, so Ace writes it off as a Luffyism. Sabo hasn’t stirred at the noise, so it’s all good.
Realizing this, Luffy pads closer to Ace’s side and looks at Sabo’s unmoving body warily. “Why is Sabo passed out like a corpse? Is he sick?”
“No, he’s not sick, he just can’t take care of himself. Which is why we are going to let him sleep for as long as possible.”
Luffy just nods to this, but it’s the uncomprehending Luffy-nod that means he’s just going to end up doing whatever he wants to regardless. Ace sighs, then jerks his head towards the kitchen. “He ate a little earlier, but I want him to eat again when he wakes up. There’s stew in the fridge if you want it – just leave him a little. Got it, Monkey D. Luffy?”
Luffy throws him a salute and then runs off in his socks. “Yippee! Ace made stew!”
“Think of your brother, Luffy, and make good choices!” Ace calls after him. “He’s a pathetic man who needs food to feel better or he’ll end up sleeping through Laundry Day!”
Sabo does not sleep through laundry day, but he does sleep for sixteen whole hours, so it’s just around noon when he forces himself up off the couch and into a warm shower.
Ace is around, which is mildly unexpected. But he’s still half-asleep, so everything is at least a little unexpected. He glances up from playing video games with Luffy to see Sabo leaving the steam-filled bathroom with his hair hanging around his shoulders. “You look like a wet cat,” he calls.
“Sabo’s awake!” Luffy cheers. “Ace thought you died at one point.”
Ace elbows Luffy in the gut, making him hunch over. “I did not!”
“He totally checked to see if your heart was still beating!”
“I’m undead, actually,” Sabo says completely seriously.
“Does that mean you don’t need to eat anymore?” Luffy questions. “Because I ate all the stew last night.”
“I saw that coming and made extra.” Ace finger-guns in Sabo’s general direction. “That’s why I bought two sets of ingredients. With your money!”
“With my money,” Sabo echoes, because it’s such a wild statement to have to deal with this early in the day. Well, early for him. “Fuck you.”
“I mean, I can tell Luffy where I hid–”
“Thank you, Ace, for agreeing to share your quarters with both of your brothers so we can all do laundry today on your dime!” Sabo raises his pitch so his voice is mockingly squeaky when he says this. He starts moving down the hall before Ace can start to argue, letting his and Luffy’s voices bleed into the background.
When he comes back out, now dressed, it smells significantly better than before. “I reheated the stew,” Ace announces, gesturing for Sabo to take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Let’s all have lunch before we head out.”
“You have to drink this too,” Luffy tells Sabo, sliding a Gatorade across the counter so it sets in front of him when he finally does take a seat. “Ace’s orders.”
“Gotta get those nutrients back somehow.”
“Aren’t we so considerate, Sabo?”
“Do you even know what ‘considerate’ means?” Sabo asks, lips quirking up into a half-smile. At Luffy’s shrug, it turns into a real smile. “Well, thanks anyway. Both of you.”
“No sweat. And look!” Ace brandishes a five dollar bill for both to see. “I found this baby for us to use on coins! It’s all on me today–”
“Where’s my wallet, Ace?!”
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suugarbabe · 1 month ago
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have you ever tried this one? || slytherin boys
Summary: pansy can’t get enough of a new artist she discovered and everyone else is dealing with the consequences
an: my first and last modern-esque au; you’re welcome I love you @musingsofahufflepuff ; also doing this so I can selfishly have all of my crushes say my name
Warnings: slight nsfw suggestions, 18+ suggested content, be mindful of your consumption online, modern-esque au, pretending any of these slytherins dgaf about is music is muggle or not, slytherins being silly goofy.
“How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz?” Enzo sang the lyrics under his breath as he flipped the page of his herbology text and scribbled a few more lines down for his upcoming essay due. The lengthy and lazy boy had brought a side table in front of a sofa so he could lay down while working.
“Do not tell me that Pansy has gotten to you too, I’ve been listening to Mattheo get lyrics wrong all week,” you plopped down on the lounge chair across from Enzo who wore a small smirk.
Mattheo scoffed as he sat down on the arm of your chair, “I have not been getting lyrics wrong. Pansy said Sabrina changes them during concerts!”
You rolled your eyes, “Oh, Sabrina does, does she? You two on a first name basis now are you?” Enzo bit his bottom lip to stifle a giggle before shooting his hand out to block a cushion thrown at him by Matty.
“You’re just upset because Pansy showed me what Junior positions are and your jealous of the ones I’ve been coming up with,” Mattheo stuck out his tongue and you quickly reached out like you were going to grab it.
He let out a small yelp, leaning backwards and unceremoniously falling onto the common room floor, “You’re an idiot, Matty. Serves you right. And it’s Juno positions, not Junior.”
Enzo nodded his head in agreeance with you, “Yeah, Matt. Have you ever tried this one?” Enzo sang his last sentence before sticking his long leg straight up in the air and hip thrusting slightly.
You groaned, slapping a hand over your face as you heard Mattheo bark out a laugh before standing up and walking over to the table in front of Enzo. “Have you ever tried this one?”
Matty placed one foot on the side table before miming grabbing someone’s hips in front of him and humping the air twice. Both boys started cracking up, nearly doubling over with laughter.
Much to your dismay, Theo had made his way over and asked what was so funny. Before you could throw a silencing charm their way they informed him. Causing Theo to grow a devilish grin before singing himself, “Have you ever tried this one?”
Theo stood near the arm rest of the couch, a fist out in front of him miming what you could only assume was him grabbing someone’s hair while swinging his other hand in a motion similar to smacking someone’s ass as he trust his hips forward a few times.
“You sods are fucking disgusting,” you pointed a finger accusingly. Enzo rolled his eyes, “You’re just jealous because you wouldn’t be able to come up with a good one.” You raised your eyebrows challengingly.
“Have you ever tried this one?” You sang as you flip yourself on the lounge chair until you were upside down, head hanging off the edge and opening your mouth is a small *pop* sound.
All three boys’ mouths fell open slightly before clearing their throats, Enzo shamelessly tugging on the crotch of his trousers, “Merlin, have you actually done that position before?”
You shrugged your shoulders, turning to sit upright, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
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latenightdaydreams · 7 months ago
Note
Hi!
What about a pervert!König that finds a tiny!reader? Like small. Doll size? But König is sexually attracted to her and wants to keep her as a little toy? AHHHH sorry if it’s dark I just can’t stop thinking about it🤦🏾‍♀️
I love your writing! Thank you💛
Thank you!!💖
König x Doll Sized!Reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
Part 2
>cw: fem/afab, power difference, masturbation, voyeurism, confinement, non-con.
1.6k word count
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Once König retired, he purchased land in the countryside of Austria. His new goal in life is to live a life of peace and comfort. Near his home, there is a small stream next to a field of colorful wildflowers. It’s like a little slice of heaven on earth; especially when he found you.
König found you walking in the field. He nearly stepped on you the first time. You’re tiny, like a living Barbie doll. After a few visits, you trusted him, coming closer to him to talk to him. You show off your little crafts that you make with what nature gives you.
You’re precious and have become somewhat of an obsession for König. Every day, you’re the first thought on his mind. To hear your tiny voice, see your eyes sparkle, just to be in your presence is a gift.
Today he packs a bag with doll clothes he recently purchased for you, a few sweets that you always request and lunch to share with you. This is his daily routine, eventually hoping to get you to trust him enough to willingly enter his home.
König arrives at the field and sits, opening up a picnic blanket before setting things out. In no time, you show up. The giant man stares down at you with a cheerful smile, moving over on the blanket to make room for you.
“Hallo, y/n!” König can’t control his excitement with you. “How have you been since I saw you last?”
“König!” You return the warm smile. “I’ve been well. How about you?”
His eyes travel up and down your body as you were a purple doll dress he gave to you yesterday. You’re so tiny, yet so curvy. He fantasizes about what you would look like with no clothes on nearly every second of every day. Do you look like a human woman?
“Well…” His gaze lingers. “I went shopping for you again.”
“You’re so sweet.” You smile while watching him dig through his bag.
König turns to you, holding a doll's bikini and another dress, but pink this time. You squeal with excitement as König hands them to you. He studies you, wishing you’d try them on in front of him.
“Do you like them?” He asks while handing you the bag of sweets.
“I do!” You pivot your attention to the sweets, tiptoeing to peer into the bag.”
“Can I show you photos of something I’ve been working on for you?” König asks while taking his phone out.
“Yes!”
He opens his photo app to show you photos of a dollhouse that has been transformed to look like a modern, cozy home. König has been working hard to make it a lure to get you interested in a visit. As you look at the photos, he watches your face closely, trying to read your reaction.
“You did this? For me?” You gaze up in awe at your kind giant friend.
“All for you. For whenever you want to visit, you can have your own space to not feel overwhelmed.” He says so innocently.
“Wow…I would love to see it sometime.” You gaze at the image of the small closet with clothes he’s picked out for you. “All that’s for me?”
“Well, you are the only Fae I know.” He chuckles.
“Fae?”
“Like… tiny person. Not exactly human. It’s a compliment. They’re beautiful, just like you.”
A small blush appears on your face when he calls you beautiful. He’s your first human interaction. For centuries, you’ve been told to avoid them, but König has shown you that not all humans are the same.
König lets the silence linger in the air for a brief moment before testing the waters once more. “Like I said, anytime you want to come over. I’d be happy to have you.” And he means have.
You look around at the flowers before turning back up to him. “I’d like to go now. For a short while.”
König’s eyes light up. He tries to suppress his excitement to not scare you off. With haste, he packs up his bag again. One of his large hands opens up on the blanket. “I can carry you since it would be a long walk for you.”
There is a look of hesitation in your eyes as you gaze down at his large calloused hand.
“I promise, I won't drop or squeeze you.”
With his promise, you sit in his palm. The feeling of your warm miniature body resting on his palm felt…his mind began to wonder what you would feel like sitting on other parts of him. Once you are comfortable, he stands, pulling the blanket up too.
Each step is taken with the utmost care to make sure he doesn’t trip and drop you. You look down from over his fingers and feel nervous being so high up. König’s heart is thumping in his chest at the thought of finally capturing you. Months of getting close to you have all paid off.
Inside his home, it feels massive to you. He closes and locks the door behind him, the latch making a loud clicking sound. “This is my home.” König speaks softly as he walks you around the first floor before bringing you upstairs.
“This is my office,” he opens the first door for you to look into, “then right over here is the bathroom.” König stalls in each room to let you look around. He watches as you look around in wonder.
There is one more door at the end of the hall that he opens. “This is my bedroom.” It’s simple but neatly organized. König isn’t a very materialistic man and it shows. He walks into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. You can hear the sound of the lock again, but think nothing of it. He walks to his bed and places you on it.
The soft surface under you is comfortable as you let yourself fall back onto it. A laugh comes from König as he watches you enjoy his bed. “This bed is so comfortable.”
“Then you’ll love yours.” König holds his hand out to grab you. Once you sit back down on his palm, he turns, opening his closet door. The closet looks more like a small bedroom, even complete with natural lighting. You look around, eyes falling to where the doll house sits in the corner. Slowly and gently, he sets his hands on the floor for you to get out and walk to it.
König stands back up and closes the door behind him as you rush to the dollhouse and explore it all. You run up to your own bedroom and look into the closet at all the clothes. “Why don’t you try some on?”
Without a second thought, you strip from your purple dress exposing your body to König for the first time. König would feel his cock instantly harden. You look beautiful, exactly like a woman. As your attention is focused on picking out an outfit, König shoves one hand into his pants and leans back against the wall. He grabs his cock and strokes it as his eyes are glued to your breasts bouncing and ass shaking. What does your pussy look like? Taste like?
You hear a loud huff coming from behind you. Slowly turning around to see König in the corner masturbating to you. You rush to put your dress back on, but he steps forward.
“Nein, stay like this.” His voice is shaky from pleasure.
König can sense that you’re uncomfortable. He kneels down and undoes his pants, quickly pulling out his cock. His other hand reaches out to try and touch you, but you recoil.
“Don’t make me get the jar.” König’s voice deepens.
A shiver runs down your spine. The jar? You look at him and realize he is exactly like every other human. All the stories about their perversions are true.
König watches as you just gaze up at him with an untrusting look. His breathing gets heavier as he looks at you. “Lay on the bed.”
You stand for a while before deciding to comply, his eyes following you like a hungry dog. As you lay down, he looks over your body with an intense gaze. “Touch yourself.”
For a moment you think about it, maybe if you just play along, he’ll let you free and then you can just hide from him forever again. You spread your legs open and begin to circle your clit. König watches in awe as his moans get louder.
Your body is perfect. If you were human, you'd be his perfect woman. He wants to run his tongue all over your body, touch every inch, but that can wait. For now, he will accept this...for now it's enough.
“Y/n.” He whispers before he sits up and cums on you.
Thick warm globs of sticky whiteness fall on your stomach and breasts, also scattering along the floor and bed. The smell overwhelms you, it’s repulsive. König looks at the mess he’s made and it only arouses him further. You look gorgeous soaked in cum.
König stands up and puts himself back in his pants, leaving you in there for a moment. He comes back with a towel and begins to clean the floor around you. “Clean yourself with the blanket, I’ll wash it.”
You comply and clean up, getting dressed again in your purple dress. Acting as calm as possible you smile up at König. “This house is beautiful, thank you again. I think I’d like to go home now.”
“This is your home.”
“No—”
“Ja, es ist.”
Your stomach churns. “König.” You say in a pleading tone.
He stares down at you with a serious glare. Without a word, he slowly stands up and turns away, walking out of the closest and leaving you trapped within.
Part 2
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inotakumagf · 25 days ago
Text
step on it!
✶ choso kamo x gn!reader
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word count ✺ 1.7K
summary ✺ Choso helps you break in your newest pair of Doc Martens <3 based on this and this drawing <33
warning ✺ minors DNI! sub!choso, boot humping/grinding, reader loves being mean, good boy choso, brief choking (m receiving), lil bit of dacryphillia, reader is gn & there’s a line about ur strap but no gendered language. today is my birthday, so this is my birthday gift to myself :) reblogs & comments are very appreciated!
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Choso has an extensive Doc Marten collection. Through your friendship and now your relationship with him, you’ve introduced him to a lot of different things. He tells you that he likes how human they make him feel, and you take that as encouragement to show him as many modern human inventions as possible. You’ve got him hooked on video games, iced matcha lattes, and even a little bit of drama television. Your most precious shared interest, however, is each of your Doc Marten collections. You have a humble collection, and you used to only buy a pair once a year as a birthday gift to yourself. 
But Choso has quickly changed that tradition. His excitement over the different styles and the thought of matching with you makes him so giddy; you can’t help but feel excited with him. You just hadn’t expected him to be so into it. He sure does love his platform boots, and he even likes to pick one out and place it at the foot of the bed before tucking in to sleep. It’s cute, but he has definitely fueled your unhealthy obsession with the brand. 
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You drag Choso to sit next to you on the couch the moment you see that the new collection is live on the Doc Martens website.
“Cho! Look at these platforms, aren’t they so cute?”
Choso has his head tucked against your shoulder as you scroll over the product page. You zoom into the photo as you envision yourself wearing them. 
You tilt your head. “Hm, actually, I don’t know if I should get these ones. I’ll browse the other styles.” 
Choso lifts his head. “I like them.”
You pout and scroll down the page. “I don’t think they have them in your size, baby.”
“I mean for you. I think you should get them.”
You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend. “Really? But I’ve never had platforms this high before–”
“It looks really good.”
“And I don’t know if I like the leather they used–”
“It would feel so nice,” he sighs.
You laugh. “Well, I can’t feel the leather if it’s on the outside of my feet.”
Choso blushes and tucks his face into your neck. “I-I mean it’s more comfortable with this type of leather, because it’s flexible and it lets your feet breathe better.”
You stare at him, and he shrivels under your gaze. “I don’t think that’s a real thing.”
He pouts. “It is! The man at the store told me so. He informed me that he owns thirty pairs, so he must know what he’s talking about.”
“But is that why you want me to get them?”
He squirms at your question, and stutters out, “Of course!”
You shut your laptop and push it to the side. You don’t care about the new collection anymore, not when you have something so much more enticing in front of you. 
“Choso, honey. Wanna tell me what’s got your pretty little head all twisted up?”
“I-I don’t…” He stares at you with wide, doe-like eyes. He knows he’s been caught, but he tries to keep up the appearance of indifference. “I want you to get the shoes you like, sweetheart. That’s all.”
You run a sweet, gentle hand over his cheek, which is dusted with embarrassment. You lure him in with soft kisses on his jaw, his chin, and the corner of his lips. Choso’s eyes flutter shut and you grin at the way his eyebrows furrow on instinct. You get him all nice and comfortable, and then you tug your fingers through his hair until you grip one of the buns that he’d oh-so-carefully pinned. He whines at the sting, and at the way you tug his head back and away from your torturous mouth. 
You press your lips near his ear, nibbling on the cartilage before whispering, “Why do you care so much about my shoes, baby?”
“I-I don’t. I just–” 
You mark up his pale neck, watching intently as he sighs and arches into your touch. “C’mon. You’re my good boy, aren’t you? Gotta be honest with me. M’not gonna be mad at you.”
Choso stares at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Your kisses have definitely helped ease his embarrassment to make room for his horniness. He spreads his large hands over your stomach and runs them down your waist so that he can anchor himself to your hips. He squeezes, pupils dilating as you press into him. 
“I want…I want you to step on me,” he admits, pulling you flush against him with one strong arm wrapped around the small of your back. 
You laugh, cooing when Choso goes right back to being embarrassed. “Aw, honey, wait. Didn’t mean to laugh.”
“You think it’s stupid,” he pouts into your neck.
You lift his chin so that he has to look at you. “No, I think it’s hot. You want to help me break in my boots, is that it? You wanna grind on my shoes, baby? Fuck, you're so good, I know you’d look perfect on your knees for me.”
Choso whimpers at the picture you're painting. “Please. Just wanna be good for you.”
He grinds against your core, almost like he’s subconsciously trying to prove that he can hump your boot so well.
“I wouldn’t even need to fuck you, you’d just get off on that, wouldn't you? You'd let me be so mean, I know you can take it.”
He rolls his hips upwards, jerking against you desperately. You press your palm against the bulge in his sweatpants, feeling it twitch at your touch. His eyes roll back in pleasure, and he’s so lost in the feeling that you almost feel bad for pulling away and denying him his pleasure. 
He whines at the loss of your touch. You place your laptop back on your lap. “C’mon, Cho. You have to help me pick out a good pair, yeah?”
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The boots arrive faster than you thought they would—thank you express shipping. You chose them because they made Choso blush the hardest. It might have something to do with the max platforms on them.
They dig a little bit at your heel, but that’s alright. That’s what Choso’s here for. He sits on the bed as you model them, spinning in a slow circle and pointing your toe out so he can see them better. He smiles up at you sweetly, and you pretend that you can’t see him blush. 
“You look so amazing, sweetheart,” he sighs.
You stand before him, grinning when he automatically wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. You drag your hands through his hair to loosen his buns, and to tug at them just how he likes.
“Thank you, baby,” you say, “but how ‘bout you get on your knees for me, yeah? I know you’ve been aching for it.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice as he immediately sinks to the ground, switching your positions so that you’re pressed up against the bed. Choso rests his cheek on your thigh, staring up at you with those irresistible eyes of his. He keeps his hands to himself, clenched on his strong thighs so that they don’t wander anywhere they shouldn’t. You reward his behavior with a deep kiss, bending your upper body to meet his lips in a searing kiss. You laugh when he has to strain his neck to kiss you properly.
Choso gasps when you pull back to let him breathe. He looks up at you as you brush your thumb over his wet lips, swirling his tongue around the digit desperately. It’s like he’s trying to convince you to let him hump your shoe. And who are you to deny him that? You lift your foot slowly and press it into his growing hard-on. The effect is immediate. Choso moans and tilts his head back, wrapping his hands around your leg and forcing you to press down harder. Usually, you’d punish him for touching you without permission, but he’s enjoying himself so much that you don’t have the heart to.
You tut. “Are you gonna be good for me, honey?”
The sweetness of the way you talk to him makes his head dizzy. “Yes! Yes, I’ll be good for you. Promise.”
He ruts his hips up against the sole of the platform, and it's like he’s chasing the pain. His desperation fuels the fire in your gut.
“Please,” he cries.
You grin, pressing harder against his bulge. “Please what?”
His thighs are spread wide, caging your leg in between them. He grinds up into the boot, but you can tell he’s getting frustrated. It’s not enough. “Need more, please.”
You oblige, pressing down harder and wrapping your hand around his throat to get him even more worked up. He tilts his head back, giving you a great view of his marked up neck. You get a rush of possessiveness, and you wonder if you can press down hard enough to leave an impression of the boot print behind. Whether or not it's possible doesn’t matter, you’ll just try your damn hardest. Choso appreciates the effort, moaning when you press your boot down even harder.
He cries at the intensity of pleasure and pain, overwhelmed because he can’t quite distinguish between the two. Tears streak down his cheeks, and you smear them messily when you squish his cheeks in your hand. He looks up at you with those wet, dumb eyes of his, and you just want to eat him whole. 
He pistons his hips up faster, and you’d be concerned if he wasn’t letting out the most delicious sounds. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
You can tell the exact moment his orgasm washes over him, twitching his hips up involuntarily, and dropping his mouth open in pleasure. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he drops his head forward to kiss haphazardly along your leg in apology.
You pull your foot back slowly, revealing the wet spot in his sweatpants. He whimpers under your intense gaze.
“Sorry,” he rasps. “Didn’t mean to.”
You hum. “That’s okay.”
He watches you suspiciously, which you suppose is fair. Because you lift your opposite foot and press the boot against his softening dick, using his cum as a lubricant. He practically squeals, which is such a delectable contrast to his low voice.
“You promised you’d help me break in both my shoes, Choso. We’re not done yet.”
“I-I…can’t. S’too much,” he says, but still he wraps his arms around your leg and pulls you closer, overstimulation be damned. “Oh. Don’t stop, please.”
Choso really loves everything that you teach him. You might have to introduce him to your strap-on next time. 
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deiitsukki · 2 months ago
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Marriage & Needs
Featuring: Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
TW: (Angst to fluff, Marriage issues, Neglect, Rough sex, Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Kinda Dom!Ace, a lot of begging!)
MODERN AU!!
Note:BTW I AM BAAAAACK!! semester's coming to an end and my schedule is finally becoming finally clear but I'll only be posting one story everyday so I could still focus on my other tasks. I MISS YOU ALL WHAT THE HELL❤️❤️
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Ace had always been a man who knew how to get things done. A rising star in the finance world, he’d spent the past decade turning his small investment firm into a respected powerhouse. But success didn’t come without sacrifice. Late nights, early mornings, weekends spent on conference calls—his life had become a revolving door of meetings, spreadsheets, and deadlines.
He had met You 7 years ago, back when his career hadn’t yet consumed him. Back then, they had been inseparable. You had been his muse, his balance. But as time passed, he became more engrossed in his work, and You had slowly become a part of the background. He didn’t even realize how long it had been since they’d shared a quiet evening or a simple meal together.
Tonight was no different. He sat at his desk in his study, the soft glow of his computer screen illuminating his face as he typed away on yet another presentation. Hours ticked by, but he barely noticed the passage of time. He didn’t hear Your footsteps as you entered the room, standing quietly at the door, watching him.
You had always been patient—so patient it hurt. You had watched him drift further away, keeping yout pain locked inside, hoping he would come back to you on his own. But as you stood there, you realized something: you needed him to see you, to understand what his absence had done to you. Tonight, you would find the courage to tell him.
You took a deep breath and walked closer, her voice soft but steady.
Ace barely looked up, his fingers still moving over the keyboard. “Can it wait, Y/n? I’m swamped with work.”
A pang of hurt flashed through you chest, but you kept going. “No, Ace. It can’t wait.” Your tone was firmer, edged with a frustration you’d been holding back for far too long.
Finally, he looked up, his expression showing mild annoyance. “Alright, what is it?” Ace asked, barely masking his impatience.
You took another deep breath, searching for the right words. “Ace… I feel like I’ve lost you. I understand that work is important, but lately… you’ve become so distant. I just want a few minutes with you, to feel like we’re still connected. Like I still matter to you.”
Ace let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “Y/n, we’re not kids anymore. This is how things are. I’m doing this for us, for our future. You knew what you were signing up for when we got married.”
His words cut deep, and You felt your heart shatter. Your hands trembled as you tried to keep yourself together, your voice a mere whisper. “I didn’t sign up to feel invisible, Ace.”
Ace’s frustration bubbled over, and he snapped, “What do you want from me, Y/n? I’m doing everything I can. Maybe you’re just being overly sensitive.”
The moment the words left his mouth, Ace saw the hurt flash across your face, the tears welling in your eyes. You didn’t say another word, simply turned and walked out of the room, your silent footsteps echoing painfully in the empty house.
Alone in his study, Ace’s anger dissipated, replaced by a gnawing guilt. He thought back on his words, the way your face had fallen, the way you had looked at him as though he were a stranger. Ace realized that you were right; he had been so consumed by his ambition that he’d failed to see what it had cost his marriage. A wave of regret washed over him, and he stood up, following you to your shared bedroom.
He found you sitting at the edge of the bed, your shoulders hunched, wiping away silent tears. Seeing you like that, so vulnerable and hurt, twisted something deep inside him. Without a word, he knelt down in front of you, reaching for you hands.
“Y/n,” Ace murmured, his voice thick with remorse. “I’m so sorry. You’re right… I’ve been blind. I never meant to make you feel this way.”
You looked down at him, your tear-streaked face filled with surprise. “Ace…”
He held your hands gently, his thumb brushing over your fingers. “I’ve been a fool, Y/n. I thought I was doing all of this for us, but somewhere along the way, I forgot what was truly important. I forgot you.”
You watched him, Your eyes softening, though a hint of hurt lingered. “You don’t know how much that means to me,” you whispered.
He stood slowly, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you close. He looked at you with an intensity you hadn’t seen in a long time, a promise to make up for every moment he’d missed. “Let me show you how much you mean to me.”
He leaned down, his lips brushing over yours, gentle but filled with emotion. You responded, feeling a spark ignite that had been dormant for so long. His hands roamed up your back, pulling you closer, his touch conveying every word he couldn’t say.
They moved slowly, savoring each touch, each kiss, as if they were rediscovering each other. He poured all his love, his apologies, into every caress, whispering soft words of regret and love against your skin. You felt cherished, wanted in a way that you’d almost forgotten.
He laid you down on the bed, his hands exploring you with a tenderness that brought fresh tears to your eyes, though this time they were tears of joy. They connected in a way that went beyond the physical, rekindling a flame that had never truly died. Every movement, every kiss, was a promise, a silent vow to never take you for granted again.
He stares at you with those Dark Intense eyes of his, filled with softness, His eyes, Those eyes that made you fell inlove with him. He slowly removed your night gown
“My dear wife..” he whispers, with a soothing tone
“You're so...” he said while he unclasps your bra
“so...” he continues trowing your bra to the floor
“so...” he said his hands going down to take off the only garment that was left in your perfect body
“so beautiful.” Ace said complimenting you as he took off your panties with such ease
He presses a thumb in your already wet cunt making you gasp from the sudden contact, Ace continued toying with your clit while showering you with compliment
“Oh my god, Ace please...” you moaned pleadingly “Please what love?” he asked softly “C'mon speak up” he said waiting for you to speak “More please.” You pleaded voice laced with wanting more
Well he couldn't blame you since it's been so long since both of you shared a intimate moment together, he understands why you were so needy for him tonight, by the way you pleads makes his already growing erection painfully hard. God, He missed this, he was more than dumb for neglecting you, and he was thankful you decided to talk to him this night. He wants you too, He needed you too, He means it. and He wanted to show you how much he needed you tonight.
Hearing your plea he removed his thumb in your clit, He places one of his hands in your lower belly and without a warning he suddenly inserted two of his fingers inside your pussy making you gasp in pleasure, you grasp the bedsheet, toes curling as you moaned, His finger pumping in and out of your entrance
“F-fuck ace” you moaned “Faster please” you pleaded again as you swallowed a moan, You feel your orgasm coming, he did too, so instead of listening to you, he slowed his hands from fingering you.
You looked at him almost teary eyed because of the orgasm denial “Why? Ace I said faster” you asked sounding a little upset “Nothing.” He said “I just want to hear you beg” he continued smiling while staring at your eyes
“You're such a meanie ace, please let me cum” you asked staring back at him with a small pout “Please Ace~” you moaned his name, and oh my fucking god he swear he felt himself cumming from the way you moaned his name, oh well he better make you beg later he thought smirking to himself.
“Please Ace, Plea-” your begging was cut off when he suddenly picked up his pace, his fingers fucking you into oblivion, and you moaned, clawing his hands that he was using to finger you “I'm gonna cum ace oh~” you said voice shaking with pleasure “Cum on my fingers, love” as soon as those words left his mouth, your orgasm hit you, your legs shaking as you moaned
He pulled out his fingers from your pussy, you closed your eyes as you gasps for air “That was great.” you puffed tiredly thinking you guys were done, unbeknownst to you, you guys are just getting started.
he stands up walking over to the near couch slowly unbuttoning his polo shirt “Oh yeah?” he asked, and you hummed eyes still closed “well, we're just getting started.” he said, stripping off his own clothes “What?” you asked, opening your eyes to look at him, he was already naked
“Well I want to show how special you are, and how much I missed you.” he said slowly walking towards you, as he reached the bed, he climbed onto the bed, and kneeling infront of you, he took both of your legs pulling you towards him “And you think you're the only who needs to cum huh.” he said chuckling as he lines his hard dick in your still throbbing pussy
without any warning he pushed his cock inside of you making both of you moaned “Fuck Y/n, you're so fucking warm” Ace moaned as he moves himself inside of you, your legs thrown over his broad shoulder, you moaned mindlessly, brain in hazy as you were still recoving from the orgasm you had minutes ago and yet you felt yourself cumming again not on his finger, but on his cock.
“Oh Ace~” you moaned gripping the pillows “please fuck me more” you pleaded eyes swelling with tears because of the pleasure “Please ace” you begged looking up at him with glossy hooded eyes, the way you looked at him made him go feral because why the fuck do you look so fucking hot, the eyes, the small drool on your mouth, the way you begged, and the way you moaned his name.
He couldn't control himself as he moved his hands from your legs to your waist, “Fuck princess don't make me lose my mind” he moaned as he gripped your waist tightly, you are sure by the way he's holding you, you're gonna have a bruise on your waist when you wake up tomorrow.
“Oh fuck darling ~” you moaned as you grope your tits, playing with it. Hearing those words escape your mouth ace suddenly stops slowly pulling out but leaving just the tip inside of you, “What did you say?” he asked bewilderly “What?” you asked back as you move trying to put his whole cock inside of you again but his hands on your waist tightes more making you winced, you looked up at him, eyes hooded with lust “Say it again” he demanded voice deep, you made a noise of complaint but he held you down “Come on love, say it again, so we can continue this” he said to you kissing your neck
“Come on say it” he cooes at you leaving wet kisses in your jaw, “Darling” you purred at his ears wrapping your hands on his neck, Once he heard you call him that and the way you said it made him go mad, the way you riled him up makes him downbad for you, oh the woman you are he thought
“Hell yeah.” he said as suddenly slammed his cock back into your pussy and this made you moaned loudly “You make me so crazy Y/n” he groaned, planting a hickey into your collarbone, “So fucking crazy” he said as he listens to your moanes, He picked up his pace, grunting as he felt your nails digging onto his broad shoulder
“Gonna Cum Gonna cum..” you chanted feeling yourself reaching the climax “Fuck darling I'm gonna cum.” you screamed lust and greed laced in your voice
“Gonna cum too love” he said, hugging you burrying his cock deep in your walls that were sqeezing his big dick “Let's cum together yeah?” he groans delivering his final hard thrust in your pussy
Your moanes were laced with pleassure as you came in his cock that is burried deep inside your pussy. He groans as he felt his cock shoot his load inside of you, he can feel how warm your inside is, He slowly thrust his cock into your pussy making sure that he fills you up nice and full before pulling his dick out
You were both panthing crazy as the both of you lay wrapped in each other’s arms, a comfortable silence between you . Ace held you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with a newfound gratitude.
“I love you, Y/n,” he murmured softly. “And I promise I’ll never let work come between us again.”
You looked up at him, Your fingers tracing soft patterns on his chest. “All I ever wanted was for you to see me, to remember that I’m here, with you.”
He smiled, his hand running gently through her hair. “I see you, Y/n. I always will.”
And as they drifted off to sleep, tangled together under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, they both knew that they had found their way back to each other. Their love, though tested, had emerged stronger, and they would face whatever came next hand in hand, together.
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sherewrytes · 3 months ago
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Half crazy, Toji x reader
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↳ Toji Fushiguro x f! black reader
REBLOGS HELP ENGAGEMENT
summary. You were always told by your family to stay out of trouble, get your degree, get a good job, and live a good life. Simple rules to follow. You somehow caught the eye of probably the most problematic person in your university but why did it intrigue you to find out more about him.
Toji Zenin/Fushiguro saw you for the first time strolling past him and his friends in front of the university's library. Something about you drew him in. He never saw someone like you before, focused, poised and dedicated to their degree. Always in the library or hanging out with friends, not really partying much. He wondered when curiosity would get the better of him to approach you, but he knew the life he lived would be too problematic for someone as sweet as you.
genre: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, explicit smut, dark romance,
Mafia Au, street racer au, dark romance au
character lookbook
fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.
Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.
READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION
Taglist: (you can comment to be added)
@sparkling-obsidian @queendessi24 @masterofthepp @thedondiva45
Previous Next
Chapter: Racing Shadows
The streets buzzed with tension as the underground scene reached fever pitch. The scent of rubber and gasoline hung in the air, mixing with the hum of engines revving and the low chatter of spectators. It wasn’t just any race night—tonight, the stakes were higher, and reputations were on the line. Toji Zenin’s crew was about to go head-to-head with Hiromi Higuruma’s squad, a rising force on the circuit.
Toji stood by his black 1979 Dodge Charger, white neon lights flickering beneath it. The beast was all muscle, just like the man himself. Tattoos snaked down Toji’s arms, and his eyes were fixed on the crowd. Somewhere out there, Y/n was watching. He’d spotted her earlier, and his jaw had tightened, though he’d tried to play it off. He wasn’t about to show weakness in front of the crew or, worse, Hiromi.
Hiromi Higuruma stepped out of his blood-red Ferrari F12 Berlinetta, a confident smirk playing on his lips. His ride was a monster, all sleek curves and roaring power, but Hiromi was the real threat tonight. The man exuded arrogance, as if every win was already guaranteed. Dressed sharp as always, Hiromi’s eyes landed on Toji, narrowing as he walked over.
“Zenin,” Hiromi’s voice dripped with disdain. “You ready to finally lose that rust bucket? Or are we going to pretend you’re still the king of the streets?”
Toji exhaled smoke from his cigarette, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “ Rust bucket, are you a fucking 5 year old, try harder with the insults. We’ll see who’s still standing by the end of the night, Higuruma. You sure you can handle it?”
Hiromi chuckled darkly, stepping closer, his voice low and taunting. “Handle it? Please. I’ve been handling everything—money, cars... women.” He paused, locking eyes with Toji. “Though, from what I hear, you’ve been slacking on that last part. You got eyes for one girl, but I haven’t seen you make a move. What’s the matter, Zenin? Can’t close the deal?”
Toji’s jaw clenched. Y/n had been the only one he cared to look at, but Hiromi’s words hit a nerve, one he didn’t want exposed in front of the crew. Sukuna, leaning against his blood-red Chevy Camaro, shot a glance at Toji, sensing the rising tension.
Hiromi kept going, his voice louder now, trying to rile Toji up. “What’s wrong? You’re afraid? Because the way I see it, all you do is stare. No approach, no talk. Is that your game now? Losing it with cars, losing it with women?”
Toji’s cigarette dropped from his lips, his fists tightening. Before anyone could blink, he was inches from Hiromi, nostrils flaring. “Watch your mouth, Higuruma, or I’ll shut it for you right here.”
The crowd quieted, eyes widening as the tension crackled between the two racers. Gojo, ever the joker, stepped forward with a grin. “Relax, Toji. Hiromi’s just bitter ‘cause he thinks he’s hot, but no one actually wants him.”
Hiromi’s eyes flicked to Gojo, but he wasn’t backing down from Toji. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hit a nerve? Seems like your boy over here just confirmed it. Maybe after I take your car tonight, I’ll take the girl too.”
Toji lunged, grabbing Hiromi by the collar, ready to throw a punch. The crew moved fast—Geto, Sukuna, and Gojo pulling Toji back while Panda and Nanami stepped in to hold Hiromi. The energy was electric, and it felt like a fight was moments away from breaking out.
“Save it for the track!” Geto snapped, his voice cutting through the chaos. “We’re here to race, not brawl.”
Hiromi straightened his shirt, his smirk never faltering. “Yeah, Zenin, listen to your crew. You’d need them after I beat you anyway.”
Toji glared, seething. “You want to raise the stakes, Hiromi? Fine. Pink slips.”
The crowd gasped. This wasn’t just a race anymore—it was a declaration of war. Racing for pink slips meant losing your car if you didn’t win, and with cars as custom and expensive as these, that was everything.
Hiromi’s grin grew wider. “Now we’re talking. But just so you know, Zenin, after I win your car, I’ll put it to good use. Probably better than you ever could.”
Toji’s smile was sharp, dangerous. “You better pray you’re fast enough.”
Hiromi leaned in. “Always am.”
Race 1: Gojo Satoru vs. Kento Nanami
The first race was Gojo against Nanami, and the tension was palpable. Gojo, all smiles, pulled his baby blue Mazda RX-8 to the start line. His white hair practically glowed under the streetlights, and he shot Nanami a playful wink. “You ready to get smoked, Nami?”
Nanami, leaning against his sleek black Porsche 911 Turbo S, didn’t even respond. He was all business, adjusting his sleeves and climbing into the driver’s seat without a word. His car was a silent killer—sleek, powerful, and devastatingly fast.
As the light flashed green, both cars roared to life. Gojo’s Mazda took off like a rocket, zipping around the first corner with ease. His grin widened as he weaved through traffic, laughing to himself. But Nanami was calm, composed, and relentless. His Porsche moved like a panther stalking its prey, never too far behind, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Gojo’s hands moved fluidly, switching gears, his confidence unshakable. But on the final straight, Nanami closed the gap, his Porsche’s power surging forward. It was neck and neck as they approached the finish line, but Gojo’s laugh echoed as he barely edged out the win.
“Close one, Nami!” Gojo called, leaning out his window, though Nanami’s stoic expression didn’t falter.
Race 2: Suguru Geto vs. Toge Inumaki
Next up was Geto versus Inumaki. Geto slid into his yellow and black Nissan Primera GT, the green neon lights casting a ghostly glow beneath the car. Inumaki, his face tattoos glowing under the streetlights, pulled up in his dark green Mitsubishi Eclipse, the car’s wide body kit giving it an aggressive edge.
Inumaki’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes focused ahead. He was new to the scene, but everyone knew he had potential. The light flicked green, and Geto’s Primera shot forward, the engine howling as he took an early lead.
Inumaki followed closely, his Eclipse cornering sharply, though Geto’s experience gave him the edge. Inumaki’s focus was fierce, his tattoos and piercings giving him an intimidating look as he raced, but Geto was smooth, taking corners like a dancer, always a step ahead.
In the end, Geto crossed the finish line first, but Inumaki wasn’t far behind. “Not bad, kid,” Geto smirked as he pulled up next to him, and Inumaki nodded, his face unreadable.
Race 3: Sukuna Ryomen vs. Panda
Sukuna was up next, and his blood-red Chevy Camaro looked like a beast ready to devour the streets. Across from him, Panda, with his massive build and double-sleeved tattoos, slid into his blacked-out Dodge Challenger. Gold cuffs glinted on his wrists as he revved the engine, the roar echoing through the lot.
Sukuna grinned. “Let’s see what the new guy’s got.”
The race began with a thunderous start, Sukuna’s Camaro exploding off the line with raw power. But Panda’s Challenger wasn’t far behind, the massive car barreling forward with surprising speed. Panda’s calm demeanor didn’t match the intensity of his car, but his control was impeccable.
Sukuna’s grin widened as he pushed the Camaro to its limits, weaving through the course with reckless abandon. Panda followed, his Challenger staying close, but Sukuna’s experience won out. As they crossed the finish line, Sukuna let out a whoop of victory.
“Not bad, big guy,” Sukuna called out. Panda, ever the silent type, simply nodded.
Race 4: Toji Zenin vs. Hiromi Higuruma
Finally, it was time for the main event: Toji versus Hiromi. Toji stepped into his black Dodge Charger, the white neon lights flickering ominously beneath it. Hiromi, across from him, sat in his Ferrari F12, its blood-red body gleaming under the streetlights.
Toji’s face was set, jaw clenched as he revved the engine. This wasn’t just about the race anymore—it was personal. Hiromi had thrown too many insults, and Toji wasn’t about to let him get away with it.
Hiromi’s smirk hadn’t faltered. “Better say goodbye to that Charger, Zenin. It’ll look better in my garage.”
“Keep dreaming,” Toji growled.
The light flashed green, and both cars roared to life. The race was on.
The moment the light flashed green, the sound of tires screeching and engines roaring filled the night air. Toji’s Charger took off like a bullet, but Hiromi’s Ferrari was right on his tail,
a sleek red blur chasing the massive black muscle car through the neon-lit streets. Both cars thundered down the highway, weaving through the urban landscape at breakneck speeds.
Toji gripped the wheel, his hands steady, eyes razor-focused on the road ahead. The raw power of his Charger reverberated through his body, the engine growling as he pushed it harder.
This wasn’t just about racing anymore; this was about showing Hiromi, the crew, and especially Y/n, that no one could touch him—not on the streets, not anywhere.
Hiromi, in his Ferrari, was grinning like a madman. His sleek, custom-built machine cut through the air with a deadly precision, roaring behind Toji.
Hiromi’s confidence was palpable as he drew closer to Toji, pushing the Ferrari to its limits. He flicked his eyes to the side mirror, watching Toji's Charger devour the road ahead.
"You’re slipping, Zenin!" Hiromi shouted through his open window, his voice taunting, carried by the rush of wind. "You drive like you fight—sloppy and slow!"
Toji didn’t take the bait, but the fury in his chest burned hotter. He pushed his Charger even harder, the custom-built engine roaring with every shift of the gears. His knuckles whitened on the wheel, his jaw locked in determination.
Hiromi swerved up alongside Toji, their cars nearly kissing as they raced through a tight alley. The Ferrari’s sleek frame allowed it to glide with ease, but Toji’s Charger was a beast, chewing up the pavement as he powered through the turns. Hiromi’s laughter echoed across the alley as he pulled ahead slightly, his red Ferrari glinting under the streetlights.
"Guess I’ll be taking that Charger home tonight," Hiromi mocked, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Maybe I’ll even take the girl too. She deserves a real man."
Toji’s teeth ground together. His muscles tightened as Hiromi’s words fueled his fire. Y/n flashed in his mind, her eyes on him earlier tonight. She’d watched him, and in that moment, Toji knew he couldn’t lose. Not to this prick.
Without warning, Toji slammed his foot on the accelerator, the Charger’s powerful engine snarling as he surged forward. The gap between their cars closed in an instant, and Hiromi’s smirk vanished, replaced with shock as Toji pulled ahead.
"You’re not taking anything, Hiromi," Toji growled, eyes locked on the road as he took a sharp corner, his Charger sliding sideways with precision, drifting flawlessly. The tires screeched against the asphalt, sending sparks flying into the night air.
Hiromi’s Ferrari struggled to follow Toji’s aggressive moves, and for the first time in the race, doubt flickered in his eyes. Toji’s car was a monster, devouring every turn, every straightaway, with ferocious speed.
From the sidelines, the crowd roared in approval, the energy electric. Gojo, Sukuna, and Geto watched intently, knowing this race was more than just about cars—it was about pride, respect, and dominance.
"Toji’s got this," Gojo smirked, leaning against his RX-8, arms crossed. "Hiromi’s not ready."
Sukuna exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes following Toji’s Charger as it surged ahead. "He better be. That Ferrari’s not playing around."
Back on the road, Toji took another sharp corner, the Charger roaring as it bolted down the final straightaway. Hiromi, desperate, pushed the Ferrari to its absolute limit, trying to catch up, but it wasn’t enough. Toji’s skill, his raw determination, and the power of his custom Charger were too much.
As the finish line approached, the crowd leaned in, holding their breath. The neon lights from both cars flashed as they tore through the final stretch, but it was Toji’s Charger that crossed first, Hiromi’s Ferrari trailing behind by mere inches.
The roar of the crowd was deafening. Toji let out a breath, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he slowed his car, pulling it to a stop. Hiromi skidded to a halt beside him, fury etched across his face.
Toji climbed out of his Charger, his expression cool and composed. Hiromi, on the other hand, slammed his door shut, his pride in tatters. The tension between them hadn’t diminished, and it was clear that things were far from over.
"You got lucky, Zenin," Hiromi sneered, stepping closer to Toji. "Next time, I’ll bury you. And we race for pink slips again—because I want that Charger."
Toji turned, his gaze cold, his voice low and lethal. "You don’t stand a chance. But if you want another shot at getting humiliated, I’m all for it."
Before Hiromi could respond, Gojo strolled over, grinning. "What’s this, boys? Another rematch already? Damn, Zenin, you really don’t let these guys breathe."
Hiromi glared at Gojo but kept his focus on Toji. "Next time, Zenin, I’ll take everything from you."
Toji smirked, leaning against his Charger, eyes gleaming with confidence. "You couldn’t take it if I gift-wrapped it for you."
The crowd began to disperse, the adrenaline still pulsing in the air as the racers regrouped. Y/n stood at a distance, her eyes fixed on Toji, who caught her gaze for a brief moment before looking away, his expression unreadable.
Hiromi stalked back to his Ferrari, his crew following behind, but the tension between him and Toji lingered like a storm cloud, promising that this rivalry was far from over.
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Toji’s POV:
The race had been a rush, but now that it was over, Toji leaned against his Charger, the heat from the engine warming his back as he took a slow drag from his cigarette. The smoke curled from his lips, drifting into the cool night air, mixing with the distant cheers and hum of conversations around the lot. His eyes flickered toward Sukuna, who was sitting on the hood of Gojo’s RX-8, rolling up another joint with meticulous precision. The whole crew was there, unwinding after the adrenaline-fueled race.
Toji’s mind was still buzzing. Hiromi's words replayed in his head, especially the part about taking everything from him—including her. His jaw clenched slightly, but he masked it with another pull from his cigarette. He wasn’t going to let Hiromi—or anyone—get under his skin. But Y/n… she’d been watching, he could feel it. Every time he was around, he caught her eyes on him, just like his had been on her since that first time outside the library.
Gojo’s loud laugh snapped him out of his thoughts. The man was standing a few feet away, chatting up some girls who had stuck around after the race. Typical. Geto was nearby, doing the same, his relaxed posture oozing charm as he leaned in to talk to one of the girls, a grin tugging at his lips. Meanwhile, Choso rolled up late, as usual, pulling up on his custom motorbike with a low growl. He parked and swung his leg off, the gold accents on the sleek black bike gleaming under the neon lights.
"Why is she walking over here?" Choso asked, nodding in the direction of Mei Mei, who had just broken off from Y/n and Shoko. The rest of the guys followed his gaze.
Gojo raised an eyebrow, already grinning as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Shit, hide your wallets, boys. She smells money from miles away."
Toji’s eyes shifted, narrowing slightly as Mei Mei strutted toward them with her usual confidence. And, as if it were instinct, his gaze flickered past her, locking onto Y/n who was standing a distance away with Shoko. She looked good—too good, even in the simple outfit she had on. His cigarette paused mid-air as his eyes lingered just a little too long. He forced himself to focus back on Mei Mei when Gojo's voice rang out again, teasing.
"Yo, isn’t that Y/n’s friend?" Choso asked as he parked his bike and sauntered over to the group.
Toji straightened, keeping his face neutral, but he knew what was coming. Damn Gojo. The guy always had a knack for turning the spotlight on Toji when he least wanted it.
Mei Mei arrived, glancing around the group before her eyes settled on Toji, her usual cool demeanor not faltering even for a second. "So, Toji," she started, her voice casual but carrying an edge of curiosity. "You gonna tell me what’s the deal with you eyeing up Y/n everywhere, or what?"
The group erupted in laughter, Sukuna shaking his head as he exhaled a puff of smoke. Geto chuckled, leaning back against the wall with a knowing grin.
Toji took a slow drag from his cigarette, playing it off, exhaling the smoke in a lazy stream. "What are you talking about?" he said smoothly, though his heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted briefly toward Y/n again—bad move.
Gojo was on it in a second.
"Ohhh, Toji’s playin’ dumb now, huh?" Gojo piped up with a smirk. "Come on, man. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you checking her out at every turn." He nudged Sukuna, who snickered beside him, still focused on rolling his joint.
"Maybe he’s just shy, y’know?" Geto added with mock seriousness, shooting a wink in Toji’s direction.
Toji shot Gojo a glare. Bastard. He tried to play it cool, leaning back against his car with a shrug, tapping the ashes of his cigarette. "You all got nothing better to do than gossip like high schoolers?"
"Hey, no judgment," Gojo teased, his grin widening. "I’m just saying, if you’re gonna keep staring, might as well make a move, man. Y/n’s right over there."
Toji felt his pulse quicken, but he wasn’t about to let Gojo get the satisfaction. "Fuck off," he muttered, taking another drag from his cigarette as he side-eyed Gojo. The group continued to laugh, but Toji’s gaze inevitably drifted toward Y/n again.
Y/n’s POV:
Y/n could feel eyes on her before she even looked up. The race had been exciting—chaotic, really—but now, standing with Shoko, she felt a different kind of tension hanging in the air. She glanced across the lot and saw Toji’s crew huddled together. Mei Mei had left her and Shoko, heading straight for the guys, her usual confident strut not faltering for a second.
"She’s gonna stir up trouble," Shoko muttered beside her, lighting a cigarette as they watched the scene unfold.
Y/n nodded, biting her lip. She could see it from a mile away—Mei Mei had a habit of stirring the pot. But that wasn’t what was really on her mind. It was him. Toji Zenin. Or was it Fushiguro? She still didn’t really know why he switched between the two names. Either way, there was something about him that she couldn’t shake.
She’d seen the way he looked at her—subtle, but not really. The way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the tension in his jaw when she passed by. And now, standing here, she could feel his eyes on her again, even though she wasn’t looking directly at him.
"What’s the deal with him anyway?" she asked Shoko, trying to sound nonchalant, though her heart was beating faster than usual.
Shoko took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling before answering. "Toji? He’s… complicated. Quiet, but intense. And those rumors—yeah, they're wild, but it’s mostly because he and the guys are street racers. They’ve got that whole ‘bad boy’ rep going on."
"Bad boy, huh?" Y/n murmured, trying to mask her curiosity.
Shoko turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "You’re curious, aren’t you?" she teased.
Y/n didn’t answer, her eyes now locked on Mei Mei, who had stopped right in front of Toji, clearly about to stir something up. She watched as Mei Mei pointedly asked him something—probably about her. Toji’s reaction was calm at first, but then the guys started laughing, Gojo especially, and Y/n could see Toji shift slightly, his body tensing.
"Here we go," Shoko said with a smirk, flicking her cigarette onto the ground.
Before Y/n could respond, Mei Mei turned, smirking slightly, and began walking back towards them. Y/n could feel her heart racing. What the hell had she said to him?
But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gojo shift his stance, his usual grin replaced with something more mischievous. He turned toward her direction, eyes glinting with that playful arrogance he always carried, and called out loud enough for the entire group to hear as well as other surrounding groups.
"Y/n! Toji’s been checking you out all night—why don’t you give him a reason to stop pretending he’s not interested?"
The words hit her like a punch, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She caught Toji’s eyes for a split second, and his expression, usually so unreadable, flickered with something—frustration, maybe? Annoyance?
Y/n swallowed hard, her pulse skyrocketing. She didn’t know what to say or do. But then Toji moved so fast it was almost a blur—he grabbed Gojo by the collar, jerking him forward as if he was about to land a punch. Gojo, ever the jokester, just laughed, his smirk unfazed.
"Come on, man," Gojo grinned, still laughing. "I wouldn’t steal your girl... unless..." His smirk widened.
Toji didn’t hesitate. His fist swung, but Gojo dodged easily, still laughing as Toji’s temper flared.
Toji’s fingers still buzzed from nearly decking Gojo, the cigarette barely hanging from his lips as he clenched his jaw. He wasn’t usually this quick to react, but Gojo had hit a nerve tonight, pushing him to the brink.
He took a deep drag, eyes narrowing as the smoke left his lips, rolling his shoulders back, trying to cool off.
That’s when Mei Mei casually sauntered over, plucking the freshly rolled joint right out of Sukuna’s hand as if it was hers to take. Toji's eyes flickered toward her in mild annoyance, but Mei Mei simply ignored him, lighting up the joint and taking a long, deliberate pull. She tilted her head back, exhaling the smoke with an almost too-calm demeanor.
Then, without missing a beat, she pulled out her phone and texted something, her lips curling into a smirk as she glanced briefly at Toji before looking down at her phone again.
She sauntered over to Gojo, who was still smirking, watching Toji carefully from the corner of his eye. "Mr. Moneybags," Mei Mei said smoothly, locking eyes with him. "Tell your dad to call me."
Gojo groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Mei Mei, please leave my dad alone. I beg you."
She just laughed, a soft, almost musical sound, clearly enjoying the way Gojo’s eyes narrowed in mock irritation. "We both know you like when I bother him, plus he is one of my sugar daddies" she teased.
Just then, Toji’s eyes snapped across the lot. Shoko was dragging Y/n, who was clearly resisting, toward their group. Y/n tugged against Shoko’s hold, but Shoko was relentless, her arm wrapped firmly around Y/n’s wrist. The closer they got, the more Toji could feel the tension building in his chest. He’d already been thrown off tonight, and now she was being pulled right into the middle of it.
He could feel his heart rate pick up, but he tried to play it off, taking another slow drag from his cigarette, acting like her presence didn’t throw his whole vibe off.
Y/n’s hair was slightly tousled from resisting Shoko, her eyes wide as she shot a pleading look toward her friend. Shoko, completely unfazed, kept dragging her forward until they were finally in the middle of the group. Geto, who's leaning casually against his car now, sizing up the situation, turned his gaze toward Shoko and smirked.
"Shoko," he drawled, eyeing her up. "You’re looking a little too good tonight."
Shoko didn’t even blink, shooting him a look of pure disgust. "Eww, bro, no," she replied flatly, which only made Geto laugh harder, shaking his head as he pulled out a cigarette of his own.
Then, Shoko turned on her heel, fixing her eyes on Mei Mei. "Cough it up," she demanded, crossing her arms. Mei Mei, still with the joint hanging loosely between her lips, raised an eyebrow and chuckled. She rummaged through her designer bag for a moment before pulling out the Jacquemus wallet that Shoko had been nagging her about for weeks.
Shoko snatched it from her with a satisfied smile, examining the sleek leather. "Finally," she muttered, tucking it into her own bag.
Geto leaned over, still smirking. "I could’ve gotten you something prettier," he said smoothly, eyes twinkling with mischief.
Shoko waved him off. "Geto, please shut up," she deadpanned, pulling out her own cigarette to light up.
But Toji’s focus had already shifted completely—Y/n was standing right there now, wearing just a skin-tight white tank top that clung to her every curve, paired with her jeans. His eyes lingered on her, muscles tensing beneath his wife-beater.
He’d ditched his jacket after the race, feeling the heat in more ways than one. But now, standing here, trying not to look directly at her? That was a challenge he wasn’t sure he could win.
And, of course, Gojo noticed. The guy lived to mess with him. The smirk on Gojo’s face widened when he saw how hard Toji was trying not to stare at Y/n.
"Well, well," Gojo said smoothly, sidling right up next to Y/n with that cocky confidence only he could pull off. He leaned in close, flashing her a playful grin. "Y/n, you know," he began, his voice low, dripping with amusement, "I always knew you had good taste. Hanging out with us, looking all... well, let’s just say you’re the highlight of the night."
Y/n couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped past her lips, half-embarrassed, half-amused by Gojo’s blatant flirting. He had that charm about him—so easy, so smooth. But at the same time, her eyes kept flicking over to Toji, as if trying to gauge his reaction.
Toji was pretending he didn’t hear it, trying to stay cool, but the cigarette between his fingers was burning faster than it should have been. He took another drag, slow and measured, trying to keep his expression neutral. But Gojo wasn’t letting up.
"You know," Gojo continued, now leaning even closer to Y/n, "you should really consider hanging out with us more often. I mean, I could show you a good time—better than some guys around here."
It was a direct jab at Toji, and Toji knew it. His eyes snapped up, locking onto Gojo with a dangerous glint. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot as he straightened up, his broad frame tense.
"Oi," Toji’s voice cut through the chatter, low and sharp. His eyes were focused, burning with a barely-contained fire as he looked directly at Gojo. "Back off."
Gojo laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, Toji," he teased. "I’m just having a little fun."
Y/n felt the tension spike in the air, her heart racing. She hadn’t been sure what Toji’s reaction would be, but now it was clear. He was pissed.
Toji stepped closer, his eyes now on Y/n, ignoring Gojo completely. "You okay?" His voice was a little softer now, but there was still that edge to it.
Y/n nodded, though her pulse was racing. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said, her voice a little breathless.
Toji’s gaze lingered on her for a second longer before he nodded, turning his attention back to Gojo. "Stop messing around," he muttered, the warning clear in his tone.
Gojo just grinned, but this time, he took a step back, deciding to back off—for now.
Sukuna, who had been watching all this unfold with mild interest, finally spoke up, his voice lazy and amused. "Damn, Toji. Didn’t know you had it in you to get all protective."
Toji shot him a look, but didn’t say anything. His heart was still racing, his mind still half on the race, half on Y/n. But one thing was for sure—next time, Gojo wouldn’t be running his mouth so freely.
Toji’s POV:
Toji felt the air crackle with tension as Gojo leaned in closer to Y/n. He clenched his fists, the frustration bubbling beneath his skin. But before he could act on that impulse, Gojo piped up, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Come on, man, I won’t do that... unless..." He let the words hang, his smirk widening.
Toji reacted instinctively, grabbing Gojo by the collar and yanking him forward. “You really want to test me right now?” he growled, eyes blazing with barely-contained rage. Gojo just laughed, clearly enjoying the playful threat. “Chill out, I was just joking!” he wheezed, still chuckling as he pushed Toji away.
Meanwhile, Y/n turned to Shoko, a frown on her face. “How could you sell me out for a wallet?” she teased, shaking her head.
Shoko shrugged, a playful smile creeping across her lips. “Two birds with one stone,” she replied, nudging Y/n gently.
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me about the whole ‘I’m getting a wallet’ plan!” Y/n protested, laughing.
Choso, who usually stayed quiet, chimed in unexpectedly, “So, Y/n, are you coming to my party later tonight?” His voice was casual, but there was a hint of excitement in his eyes.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, half-amused. “It’s 1 AM in the morning, Choso,” she replied, ready to decline.
“AND?” he shot back, not missing a beat.
Just as she opened her mouth to say no, Mei Mei cut in with a sly smile. “Give me the location; we’ll all be there.” Then she turned to Toji, that same playful grin lingering. “Including Y/n,” she added, her tone teasing.
Choso eagerly shared the details, his eyes glinting with anticipation. “It’s at my place—just a few blocks from here. Should be a good time.”
Geto leaned back against his car, his gaze fixed on Shoko. “How are you guys getting there?” he asked, his voice casual, though the excitement simmered just beneath the surface.
“I’ll drive,” Shoko replied, rolling her eyes at Geto’s obvious interest. He shot her a cheeky smile and a wink, which made her shake her head in exasperation.
“Alright, well, see you boys at the party!” Mei Mei said, leading the girls away, Y/n glancing back at Toji one last time before she was whisked away.
Toji kept his gaze locked on her as she walked away, a mixture of longing and frustration swirling inside him. But then he noticed her stop, and his heart dropped. Y/n greeted Hiromi with a hug, her smile wide as she wrapped her arms around his rival.
His blood boiled instantly, anger flaring through him. “Holy shit, she knows him?” Geto exclaimed, his surprise mirroring Toji’s internal turmoil.
Toji took a step forward, ready to pounce, fists clenched at his sides. “What the hell is she doing?” he muttered, unable to contain the rage that bubbled inside him.
“Wait,” Sukuna said sharply, grabbing Toji’s arm to hold him back. “Ask her at the party. Don’t make a scene here.”
Toji gritted his teeth, struggling to rein in his anger as he watched Y/n and Hiromi laugh, completely unaware of the storm brewing within him.
Y/n’s POV:
Y/n felt a wave of relief as she stepped away from Shoko, laughing at their playful banter about the wallet. But then she turned, and her heart did a little flip when she saw Choso looking her way. His friendly demeanor was hard to resist. “Are you coming to my party later tonight?” he asked.
She opened her mouth to decline, but then Mei Mei chimed in with her usual enthusiasm, and suddenly the idea of going didn’t seem so bad. “Give me the location; we’ll all be there,” Mei Mei said confidently.
The prospect of a party was tempting, and Y/n felt a rush of excitement. But just as she started to think it over, she caught sight of Toji. He was watching her intently, a storm brewing in those dark eyes of his. She had never seen him look so intense, and it made her heart race.
When she hugged Hiromi, she was blissfully unaware of the tension spiraling around Toji. His arms were so familiar, and she felt safe in his embrace. They laughed about something that had happened during their last encounter, completely lost in their own little world.
But when she pulled away, she felt the weight of someone’s gaze burning into her back. It was Toji. She turned slightly and caught his eye, but the moment didn’t last long. The tension radiating from him was palpable, and it made her stomach twist in an odd mix of excitement and unease.
Then she noticed the anger flaring in Toji’s expression, his jaw clenched tight as he stared at Hiromi. She realized then that she might have unintentionally stepped into the middle of something brewing between the two.
“Hey, Y/n,” Hiromi said, his voice smooth. “You got plans after this?”
“Yeah, heading to a party apparently. I'll see you around!” she replied, trying to keep the conversation light as she pulled away from him.
As she walked back toward Shoko and Mei Mei, she glanced over her shoulder at Toji, who was still watching her. The expression on his face was intense—almost possessive, and it made her wonder about the undercurrents she sensed between them. What did it mean that he seemed so affected by her interactions with Hiromi?
The tension in the air felt electric, and as they headed off toward the party, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated between her and Toji.
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cosmicdahlias · 4 months ago
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🍄ford x reader headcanons🍄
part 7
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• very proud of his jewish heritage. loves teaching you about the traditions.
• writes you love letters
• you showed him the star wars prequels and he LOVES them. was really happy to see more of obi wan as he’s his favorite character
• does that dad thing where he walks into the room and just stands there watching tv instead of sitting down. drives you absolutely nuts, like the couch is RIGHT THERE
• encourages you to get on his insurance. he considers your health very important
• if you’re an artist he’ll pose for you… sometimes sans clothes 👀💦. lowkey got triggered when you called him your muse one time
• you got matching cryptid tattoos. it’s the first tattoo he’s proud of
• loves how you get along with dipper and mabel
• his love language is quality time
• sleeps significantly better if you’re there next to him
• teaches you how to play piano. you love it because he guides your hands with his
• library dates are a must
• writes poetry for you
• constantly yapping about nerd and science stuff. you don’t mind, you just love hearing his voice
• leaves you notes telling you how much he adores you
• loves hugging you from behind and resting his head in the crook of your neck
• if you have freckles he absolutely loves them, calls them your “little stars”
• stan is constantly telling you guys to get a room
• tries to use modern slang, it makes you laugh
“y/n, do i have rizz?”
• you ask mabel to teach you how to knit so you can make ford a pair of 6 fingered gloves for the winter. he loves them so much
• loves to smell the top of your head when he hugs you
• literal human furnace. great for cuddling in the winter, summers are a different story
• for the first month and a half after you met he would get super flustered if you even looked in his general direction
• thinks the twin towers are aesthetically pleasing. had a mental breakdown for a couple of days when you broke the news to him
• if you sleep with a blanket or a stuffed animal he never makes you feel bad about it
• you ran into a bear on a hike once, he was very protective of you
“make noise and back away slowly, y/n. if anything happens i promise i’ve got you”
• gives you his coat without a second thought when you’re cold
• loves waking up to you in the morning. pulls you close and kisses you
• has a habit of moving silently after his time in other dimensions. has startled you on more than one occasion
• (this is a continuation of a previous headcanon in part 3)
used drinking to cope after you fell into your coma. felt like what happened to you was his fault, if he had never befriended bill all those years ago he wouldn’t have hurt you
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absolutebl · 3 months ago
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This Week in BL - It's odd rn but VERY PRETTY
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
Oct 2024 Week 1
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 4 of 12 - I love Joke so much! And I love War in this role so much. It’s great. This is a great show it’s such fun. The comedy is somewhat leaving me flat. But that’s normal for me in this kind of Thai BL. I also like Hope. I shouldn’t, but I do. I love the little girl character as well, and I do believe that Joke has found his scion in her.
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(As per usual the grandma of this BL speaks for all of us.)
Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 5 of 12 - Coils be coiling. Mummy dearest is v hot. I do like the twist on the henchmen. It would’ve been really gut-wrenching if Q had put the rope around his own wrist the night that he slept by himself (or tried to). And they have now made "the promise that is destined to be broken" waves at trope. Meanwhile, great flirting. Next week being episode six we should be getting our kiss.
(Was GMMTV gently poking at Jack & Joker with that play-within-a-play reference to Jack as Min's stunt part?)
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Fourever You (Thai Thurs YT) ep 1 of 16 - Sampler pack university BL from Wabi Sabi that's trying to be a gay Boys Over Flowers (4 older med student hot boys + frosh) and it’s exactly what I want right now. Is it good? No, not really. Do I care? Not at all. It is, in fact, boys over flowers... only boys no flowers. I really couldn’t want anything more than that. What can I say? I’m easy. I love a pining seme. I guess what I am saying is, I am trash for trash. Inject this shit directly into my eyeballs.
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Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 3 of 15 - At least in this version they talk bit more with each other about what’s going on. (Then again in the original we didn't need it, the acting was so good.) Still it’s a lot more modern to see representation of communication, but but the previous version felt more honest to teen behavior. This open communication entirely changes the push pull dynamic of Phun & Noh's whole relationship. I actually LIKE that change because it makes it very different from the original. I’ve been hoping that this one would veer in a different direction. I'm enjoying that they've made it Phun with the long term crush, and that he’s sort of testing himself with heterosexuality. It is selfish, but it is also a very rich kid thing to do. I love the shouted confessions and the decision to not date. This is a really good twist on the original. I’m liking this a hell of a lot more now that it’s substantially changed in direction, if not in tone.
Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 11 of 12 - It’s very sweet and wholesome. And everyone kisses pretty. And I do like the communication and green flag aspects of this show. But I'm also finding it a touch dull. 
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Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 9 of 12 - I don’t know. The pretending to be blind thing is weird. This whole show is weird. I’m kinda weirded out by it. I like the two side couples well enough, but we get barely any time with them at all.
I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 12 fin - I like that they did come around to the dreaming thing as a major plot point in the end. Even though it felt like they forgot about it in the middle. And I liked that it was an inherited family trait. I didn’t expect that (should have, but I didn't). And I thought it suited this kind of drama, even if it was a little pat. The whole family helping at the very end was very sweet and a nice full circle for the narrative. (Like the Ae's family sort of adopting the next-door kids originally. 
Summation
A cute friends to lovers romance, that’s a little bit like the stepbrothers trope since these two grow up next-door to each other and in and out of each other’s lives. The paranormal element is about prophetic dreams, and it is threaded through the narrative even if it gets somewhat lost in the muddy middle. All in all, a sweet fun little series with decent chemistry. 8/10
Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 8 of 10 - I've totally forgotten what’s going on. There was another kidnapping. Maybe they’re actually dating now? I don’t know. Honestly, it won’t really matter cause everything will change by the end of this episode... again. That said, I did love the parental confrontation sequence. It’s not as good as in the original because it’s a lot more direct and modernized, but it was pleasingly aggressive. Which I weirdly appreciated for the military angle. The cross-dressing thing was odd. The dolls advertising thing is even odder. Jealous baby on sports day was good though.
Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - Why did I feel like I’ve seen this entire episode already. It’s just different characters saying the same thing to the main characters or flirting the same way or whatever. 
Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 5 fin - I did not like this ep at all. Fully half of it was evil backstabbing and some bullying and some sort of trying to engender sympathy for a friendship betrayal. And I was not on board. (Wouldn’t mind seen Hali and that cute kid in something together tho.) 
Conclusion
Basically this was a story about online relationships and how they interface with the real world, and in personal friendships, plus bullying of all types and some backstabbing and shipping. The acting was weak, the sound was terrible, and generally it was an old style pulp offering. It tried to deal with some interesting issues, but was awfully clumsy about it. 5/10 
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 9 fin - Such a great confession, so truthful and earnest and honest. And he’s also like that with his friends. And such a nice answer. I love that during the cool off they both realize how very much they both act like are boyfriends to each other all the time. Ooo running of the gays! And we even got a cute little smile kiss!!!! and an adorable boyfriend montage at the end. How unexpectedly satisfying of you, Japan!
Summation 
This is a phenomenally charming and adorable little romance about a forlorn university kid and the police officer who adopts him. They are relentlessly kind to each other, in fact it’s an extremely kindly show over all (everyone in it is so nice to everyone else including us) so there’s very little tension. But what it lacks in drive and complexity it makes up for in earnest acts of service and simple affection. These two are basically boyfriends from the get-go, it’s just one of them acts like it and doesn’t realize it and the other one realizes it and has to figure out how to make it a reality. It’s incredibly sweet and incredibly wholesome, nourishing but delicious. Everybody who can should watch this show. It will make you feel better about life. 
Easy 9/10 on this one from me.  
GO WATCH IT  
Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 2 of ? - We have some semblance of a plot! Yay! Our BV tsundere character is secretly an online judge who whistleblows and exposes corruption in the school system. How very Pump Up the Volume. I am not mad about it. Also 2 of the prettiest seme bullies EVER. The epic pout-off with these bad boys. Be still my heart.
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Our Golden Times (Hong Knong ??? YT) 1-4 of ? - Billed as a BL from Hong Kong I’m not sure we can trust this one to a get finished or be cohesive or have an HEA. But the optics are good. Everybody’s very pretty. It’s chaotic and clumsy and a little odd. But most of the stuff on my dash is these days, so what the hell? And ya know what, I kinda like it.
Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 4 of 10 eps - It remains entertaining but off kilter in that way that indicates 50% chance of ultimate dissatisfaction in the JBL pantheon. 
First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - I wish we knew a little bit more about Sea's background/family. Neil should just tell him what the hell is going on. Why wouldn’t he? Instead they artificially wedged the main couple apart for most of this episode and Orca wasn’t there at all? = Not a good episode IMHO.
It's airing but...
My Damn Business (Korea Sat ????) 7 eps - supposedly airing on Saturdays starting 10/5 have no roleand I found the trailer but nothing else.
The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.
Next Week Looks Like This:
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Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
Coming Oct 2024:
10/7 Every You Every Me (Thai Mon Gaga) 10 eps - Jade and Chin have lived over a thousand lifetimes. In each one they somehow manage to fall in love with each other. (This pair, TopMick was piloted in a My Universe ep, that was one of the only ones I liked.)
10/10 Eccentric Romance (Korea Thurs Viki & Gaga) 12 eps - Silkwood’s 2nd Thai/Korean colab, that has been in production since 2022 which is a LONG time in the BL world. I'm worried but I like the concept: friends of 10 years who’ve been hiding feelings for each other enter the same university. Plus MURDER.
10/10 Gangster and His Boyfriend (Korea Thurs ????) 8 eps? - Kim Dong Bin (famous trainee & idol reality competitor, yeah that happens) stars as a fallen idol who unexpectedly becomes entangled in a gangster family. Discovers that his friend’s father is responsible for the murder of his entire family years ago. I don't know much about this one, neither does anyone else and I'm not sure where I got that release date so……
10/21 Love in the Big City (Korea ????) 8 eps - Okay both a movie (already out) and a series. Neither one is likely BL and I can't imagine it will end happily. I'm giving both a pass but here's your synopsis.
Cynical fun loving student Young pinballs from home, to class, to on night stands. He and Jaehee, his female besie and roommate, frequent nearby bars where they push away their worries about life, love, and money with soju and hookups.
10/23 See Your Love (Taiwan Gaga Viki) 10 eps? - Zi Xiong, a third-generation heir, attempting to flee from taking over their family business, meets and falls in love with Shao Peng, who works as a hearing-impaired nurse. From the same production house as Kiseki Dear To Me in partnership with Shinehouse Theatre, funded by Taiwan’s BIGART + Japan's Rakuten (Viki). Show includes Lin Chia Yo (Be Loved in House: I Do). Director Chiang Ping Chen’s childhood experiences with his deaf uncle have inspired the drama.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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I kinda love it when someone else does the prophetic claiming. Our Golden Times
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Crumbs in Summer Nights but they very cute crumbs. We didn't even really get to see them get together but I'm glad that they are.
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs
Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.
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pandora-writes-one-piece · 19 days ago
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The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 3
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Source for pic
Trouble 3
Word Count: 4959
Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.
Notes: I should have chapter 4 already finished... but it's not completed yet... I haven't written almost anything this week! I know with the hollidays it will be hectic around here, but I have a few days where the office is going to be closed, so maybe I can write a bit more! Fingers crossed! Until then, please enjoy the calmness before the storm!
Masterlist
“Morning, Bug.” Shanks fills a mug of coffee for you and sets it down on the table near your plate of bacon and eggs, beside a bouquet of wildflowers. 
“Morning, Dad. Thanks for the coffee, but aren't the flowers a bit too much? It's not my birthday…” You mumble between yawns. 
“They're not from me…” Shanks smirks and nods at a note that's tucked in with the silk ribbon. 
Brow rising, your fingers brush the petals of a deep crimson poppy before they catch the note between them. ‘Wild and beautiful, just like you.’
What? Who? 
Despite the lovely gesture, you can't shake the slightest feeling of unease, it tugs at your stomach, leaving you queasy and suspicious. 
“Who's it from?” Shanks tries to hide his curiosity but falls short when he reaches over your shoulder to glimpse the note. 
“I have no idea.”
“Come on! Not even the slightest hint?” You shake your head while your mind conjures up images of a slightly not-safe-for-work dream you had with a certain green-haired cop, and you blush unintentionally. 
Obviously. Shanks picks it up. 
“You and Zoro seemed pretty cosy when I arrived yesterday…”
“It's not from him… I think.” You deflect the implications, not wanting to read too much into it yourself. “He’s not the type for grand gestures.”
Shanks hums in agreement while placing his coffee cup in the sink. “I see what you mean.” But then he places his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look at his unbearable smirk. “Though do not underestimate a man in love.”
“Dad!” You feel your ears getting hot as you get up suddenly, looking for a vase to set the flowers on. 
“I’m just saying.” He shrugs. 
“He’s not… we… we’re just friends! I just got back.” You fuss with the flowers until they’re all spread beautifully on the vase and then set them at the centre of the table.
Shanks pouts and stares at you through the flowers, across from you. “Friends.” He air quotes with two fingers. “I’ve been there, Bug.”
“Agh! You’re impossible, Dad.”
But he might also be right. Because if last night was any indication, you and Zoro might be crossing the ‘just friends’ barrier soon. 
And, honestly, there’s nothing wrong with that. 
-*-
Shanks tells you to put a hold on your job hunt because he’ll be gone for about three weeks to a month for a horse show on an island in the South Blue and he’ll need you to take care of the animals and manage the farm chores. 
So you spend the next week getting reacquainted with most of your father’s tasks in addition to the ones you had taken over ever since coming back. 
The gifts keep coming. 
Every morning there are chocolates, or flowers, or stuffed animals, little trinkets… The notes are rather simple, always evoking your beauty, but short and nondescript. You are no closer to knowing who they’re from now than you were on the first day you got them.
Shanks keeps hinting that it might be Zoro, but you doubt that very much. Besides the fact that he’s not one for romantic gestures, he would’ve said something about the gifts after six straight days.
And it’s not like you haven’t been chatting… not in person, since you’ve been busy at the farm and he’s been pulling double shifts to have the Saturday off again, but you text every day.
Short texts, to the point, much like Zoro is, but he always asks how you are and if you need anything. 
And knowing he’s trying to take care of you leaves a very warm feeling in your chest. Especially because your clumsiness almost brought you to the clinic twice just this week. You have to thank whichever deity is watching over you because, even though you hurt yourself, it’s never serious enough to send you to the hospital. 
“When are you leaving?” You ask Shanks while packing beverages, muffins and a cake you’ve baked for today’s chosen group activity. 
“Let’s see, today’s Saturday, Beckman says his helper will arrive Monday morning to keep in charge of his farm, so sometime Monday afternoon, Bug. Why? Missing your Daddy already?”
You are.
“No! I just want to make sure you carry all of your medicine and that you have Dr. Law’s emergency contact with you, in case you need it–”
“I’m not going to drag Law all the way to the South Blue just because–”
“I called him and he said you should call anytime, so you’re going to call if you need him!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!” Shanks has got to be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. 
“Where are you going?” He hisses when you swat his hand away as he tries to steal a salty bacon muffin you’re storing in a container. Then you relent and let him have it.
“Just one, Dad! We’re going on a picnic in the park.” You say with a grin. “Nami organised it, of course. We’re going to spend the day hanging out, playing games, and socializing.” 
Shanks nods, never breaking your gaze, while trying to surreptitiously steal another muffin. This time you slap his hand with the lid of the container, and he yelps. His pout is quickly replaced by a smirk. “Is Officer Zoro going?”
You’re sure your nonchalant look can’t disguise the crimson blush tainting your cheeks, but you try to pay it no mind.  “Yes. And Luffy, and Usopp, Chopper, Sanji–”
“I was going to tell you to be careful, but I’m sure Officer Zoro is going to keep you safe from all harm.” Shanks taunts and you seethe, hands flying to your hips. 
“What are you, Dad, ten?” He guffaws as he successfully manages to distract you and steals another muffin before sprinting away from you and the kitchen.
“Be safe, Bug! Have fun!”
Seriously. How is this man a father?
-*-
Nami swings by your house with Vivi to pick you up for the picnic. You notice Robin’s absence in the car, and both girls giggle.
“Sabo’s picking Robin up. They’ll meet us there.” Vivi answers, and your mouth hangs open.
“Are they a thing?”
“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be long.” Nami laughs as she fixes her hair in the rearview mirror while waiting for the light to turn green. “Much like you and Zoro, I think.”
You choke on your own saliva, and it takes you a good minute to regain proper breathing functions, all while Nami and Vivi erupt into cackles and giggles. 
“We’re just friends!” You say after you’ve caught your breath.
“Sure, honey. We all believe that.” Vivi turns on the front seat to pat your knee in a condescending manner while you blush. 
“There’s so much heat coming off you two whenever you’re close that I don’t know how you still haven’t spontaneously combusted.” Nami quips, and you purse your lips. She’s not wrong there. “I mean, you’ve always sort of clicked, but now… daaaaamn!”
You sigh and bite your lip, trying to contain a giggle from erupting. “Who else is going to meet us there?” You ask, changing the subject and Nami shakes her head, knowing all too well what you’re doing, but not pressing on the matter. 
-*-
It’s a beautiful day for a picnic, and the park is the perfect setting for the beginning of a wonderful midday. There are rows and rows of trees, shade galore, small cobblestone pathways for long walks, and even a small creek providing a soft lull alongside the soft giggles of children. 
You and the girls are setting up rows of blankets on the grass, by the shade of the tall trees, when the group begins to arrive. You lift your head, hand sheltering your eyes from the sun, and scan the crowd. Luffy, Barto, Usopp, Kaya, and Chopper are approaching the treeline. They probably rode together.
A slight breeze dishevels your hair as your eyes linger behind, but there’s no green mane of hair in sight yet. An absent sigh leaves your lips before you spy Nami’s knowing smirk aimed your way.
She doesn’t say anything, but you blush anyway. Her unspoken words linger around you like a thick fog. You are eager to see Zoro. She knows it, you know it, hell, anyone who saw you two interact lately knows it. 
But you vow to retain some semblance of dignity and pretend to fuss over the blankets and small folding chairs. You’re so absorbed in your task that you don’t even see him approach.
“Hey there, Troublemaker, making trouble?”
The smile that graces your lips is instant and unstoppable. You turn slightly and bite your lower lip when your eyes meet his. Why does every shirt he wears seem so tight against his muscles?
“Hardly! I’m just setting up chairs!” But as you deliver the words, the chair you were opening snaps shut, almost catching your fingers, and you yelp. 
“You’re a menace.” His tone is both amused and resigned, almost as if he knew something of the kind would happen, was expecting it, even. 
“It attacked me!” You defend yourself weakly, a giggle bubbling up in your chest because he is right. You are a menace.
Zoro ends up helping you set the chairs, and you don’t even try to stop him. Both because you’re very likely to end up either hurting yourself or breaking a chair, and because he keeps brushing his shoulders and hands with yours, and the touch is welcomed. 
Robin and Sabo arrive with flushed cheeks - you can almost see Nami registering that fact for later probing - and soon after, Franky and Brook, two older men you still haven’t met but Luffy quickly introduces you to, saying they’re also part of the gang. 
You see Sanji already setting up food on the blankets, and he greets you warmly. “Hi, Sanji. You rode with Mosshead?”
“Oi?” Zoro snaps, and you ignore him.
“I did, Madame, and it was the most unpleasant ride of my life. Please remind me not to do it again.”
You giggle when Zoro’s brows knit together, his hands clenched into fists. “Tch, shitty cook, next time you ride with me, it will be in my patrol car and I’ll be dragging you straight to prison.”
Sanji starts to fume, his pursed lips crumpling the cigarette dangling from his lips, and you grimace. “Hey, hey, boys, it was just a joke!”
Nami sighs as they butt heads and continue arguing. “Never mind that.” She tells you. “Any chance they get to get up close and personal, they take it. They have a weird bromance thing going on.” She raises her hands defensively in the air. “I swear, for a moment there I thought they were going to be a thing, but Sanji loves women too much and Zoro is a man with a goal-oriented mind. Even if it’s someone he set his sights on a lifetime ago.”
Your brow raises at her as she smirks that all-knowing smirk. But she leaves it at that and stands in the middle of the boys, dragging Sanji by the scruff of his dress shirt, telling him the girls are hungry, which promptly sets him back to the task of setting up the food. 
“Shitty cook…” You hear Zoro mumble as he sets his hands in his pockets and kicks a blade of grass. It’s cute how flustered he gets. Then his eye sets on you and he frowns with a low grumble. “Oi, I didn’t forget you called me Mosshead.”
You set a hand on your heart, feigning repentance. “Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Mosshead. I forgot your title.”
“Trouble…” He lowers his tone in mock warning, and you smile, taking a step back, hands in a defensive stance. 
“Lord Moss, Knight–” Your antics are cut short by a piercing yelp when Zoro jumps and tries to catch you, but somehow, you swerve away from his grasp and start to run, an unbridled laugh filling your lungs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was just joking!”
“Repentance doesn’t dissolve the crime! Come here, Trouble!” He sprints, though you suspect he’s hardly even trying, and you cackle, running faster, the voices of the group fading into the distance. 
“You’ll have to catch me first!” Maybe you should’ve measured your words, because as soon as he hears the challenging tone in your voice, he sprints faster, and you barely have time to breathe before his arm wraps around your waist and he swirls you in the air, making you scream and laugh before he pulls your back against his chest.
Heart pounding against your ribs, cheeks flushed from running and breath catching in your throat, you feel your legs shaking when Zoro’s warm breath tickles your neck. “Gotcha.” He whispers, and you notice he’s not even out of breath while you look like you ran a marathon. 
The world dissolves into just this moment. The chirping of the birds and the rustling of the trees are nothing but background noise to the deafening pounding in your chest and the buzzing in your ears. 
Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch Zoro’s eye fixed on you, a wild smirk on his lips. “What now, officer? Are you going to arrest me?”
Damn. That was supposed to come out playfully, not sultrily. Right?
“Depends.” Did his voice get huskier? “Are you going to resist arrest, Trouble?”
You feel your throat bobbing up and down at all the wild fantasies running through your mind. The way he uses that nickname manages to send shivers down your spine and heat straight into your core. 
“Obviously.” You sound breathless, and it's a good thing you can blame that sorry state on the run, or you wouldn't know how to explain it. 
“Figures.” He chuckles low, and you feel it rumbling in his chest. Then, with a swift movement, he turns you, bends his knees, and hoists you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 
“Wha–”
“Let's go.” Your flush deepens as you feel his strong hand against the back of your thighs, holding you in place. “The humiliation will teach you not to call me Mosshead.”
“Come on, Zo, I said I was sorry!” You whine, and he stiffens, his pace slowing for a beat, and you feel his shoulders shake slightly. Then he resumes his pace. 
“I like that.”
You stop pounding your fists against his back and raise your brow. “What? Me apologizing?”
He grunts and keeps walking, the blanket and your laughing friends nearly in sight. “That nickname. Way better than Mosshead.”
Oh! Zo! Another small blush creeps into your cheeks, but before you can reply, Nami whistles. “What you got there, Zoro?”
You hear your friends laughing and bury your face in your hands, feeling mortified. “Someone’s been naughty.” Zoro replies with a smirk and an edge of amusement in his tone. 
“Seriously?” You grumble, pushing against his back to try and wiggle out of his embrace, though it’s all for naught because he has an iron grip on your legs. 
“Well, either set her down so we can all eat or take her to naughty jail and punish her. Away from our sight, please.” 
“Nami!” You yell, exasperated, but Zoro merely chuckles, swerving right as if changing directions. 
“Naughty jail it is, then.”
“No, no!” You whimper. “I’m sorry!” Chopper stares at both of you, not sure if you’re being serious, so you try to take advantage of him and stretch your hand. “Help me, Chopper!”
He reaches his hand out before Nami swats it away. “Let them be, Chopper. They need some alone time.”
You seethe at Nami, a pout on your lips. “Traitor.”
Zoro lets out a low chuckle before settling you down at the edge of the blanket. “Learned your lesson, Troublemaker?”
You steady yourself, hands against his chest, and a permanent blush tattooed on your cheeks. “Damn you. I’m never calling you Mosshead again. You won.”
“I see you’re a fast learner.” His smirk is impossibly smug. “Zo’s fine, though.” Then he turns his back on you, opens the small cooler, and takes out a beer, cracking it open with one hand and chugging at it without another look back at you. 
And, damn it, if that doesn’t mess with your heart.
-*-
“Who wants another drink?” You ask and count the raised hands before getting up, heading towards the cooler to satiate your friends’ thirst. Zoro moves his hand before you reach it, and smooths the blanket before you can trip on its raised edge.
You smile at him, but he’s not even looking at you. His eye is shut, one arm behind his neck as he leans against the tree, though you know very well he’s attentive to everything. You pass the drinks around, then return to get your own.
“Watch your head.” Zoro mumbles, and you raise your brow but don’t heed his advice and, therefore, hit a low branch of the tree, releasing a string of curses while rubbing your forehead. “When are you going to start listening to me, Trouble?”
“When you stop sounding like a smug jerk.” You mouth, annoyed at his attentiveness and at how he seems to perceive danger before you even realise it’s there. He chuckles and you retrieve your drink, returning to your seat.
After a while of relaxing in the shade, Luffy drags everyone to a frisbee game. The boys are all down to play, but the girls just sit by a bench near the open space the boys chose to throw the frisbee and tackle each other. 
You sit on the back of the bench, a case of water bottles by your feet because you know the boys will be thirsty soon. Vivi sits on the grass in front of Nami’s legs, and Robin and Kaya are on the bench. 
After a small chit-chat about meaningless stuff, you decide to bring up something that’s been bothering you. “So I’ve been getting a lot of gifts lately…”
Four heads whip your way, and you sigh, already expecting that reaction and the bombardment of questions that follow. So you raise your hands, and they stop to let you continue. Though you decide to focus on the game in front of you instead of the way they’re all staring at you.
You especially focus on a very athletic green-haired man who constantly gazes up to where you are before focusing back on the game. 
“It’s flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals… It started last weekend, after the party at Luffy’s. They have notes, but nothing personal. No name, no nothing… I don’t know who they’re from, and I don’t even know if I should be flattered or freaked out by them.”
“How do they make you feel?” Robin asks, and you shrug, not quite knowing how to answer that question.
“The first ones made me feel good. I thought they were from– I thought I might know who they were from. But since he didn’t say anything about it, I doubt they're from him. So now they just feel weird…”
“Honey, we all know you’re talking about Zoro.” Nami says in a very condescending manner, and all the girls agree.
You sigh and bury your face in your hands. You’re so obvious it hurts. 
“Fine, yes. I thought they might’ve come from him, at first. But he’s not one for romantic gestures.”
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” Nami quipped back, a smirk tugging her lips as her eyes fell back on the game. Sure enough, Zoro’s eyes are back on the bench - on you, to be more specific. “I think it’s quite romantic the way he’s always checking to see if you’re safe. Keeping you away from trouble and making sure you don’t hurt yourself.”
A small blush creeps its way into your cheeks. It is quite romantic. “That’s just Zoro being Zoro. He’s a cop. He protects and serves.” You roll your eyes.
“Oh, I’m sure he would like to serve you.” Nami giggles and all the girls try to stifle their own laughs. “But you’re wrong about that. Sure, he’s always attentive to any kind of threats, but it’s different with you.”
“What do you mean?” You can’t stop the way your heart pounds maddeningly against your sternum. 
“She means that Zoro doesn’t usually go out of his way to keep people from tripping on stuff or from bumping their head. And with you, he’s always extra careful.” Robin finishes with a small smile. 
“Like the way he’s playing now, but keeps looking at you to see if you’re still in one piece. It’s like he’s expecting you to spontaneously combust or something.” Kaya adds with a giggle. 
“It’s very endearing.” Vivi finishes, and your blush deepens, so you bury your head back into your hands, stifling a loud groan. 
“But you’re still right.” Nami continues as if you’re not breaking down in front of them. “I don’t think he’s the one leaving the gifts…” She laughs suddenly. “But there’s one way to tell for sure.”
You raise your head from your hand cocoon to tell her to keep her mouth shut, but Zoro is already halfway to the bench and you squeak. “Nami…”
“Hey, Zoro!” She starts with a wave of her hand. You see Zoro raise his eyebrow at her, his long strides bringing him closer to the bench. 
Shit.
He’s sweaty all over. Fat droplets of perspiration drop from his temples to his perfect jawline and neck, and you gulp, feeling hot and bothered. So, it comes as no surprise that when he reaches his hand to grab a bottle between your legs, you lose your balance and fall back on the bench.
Yelping, you expect to hit the floor with a dry thud, air escaping your lungs and sharp pain blinding you. Instead, you feel a strong hand wrap around your forearm and tug hard, then your face being squished against a muscular, sweaty chest.
Zoro saved you from an ugly fall. Again.
“Seriously, Trouble? Why?” His voice is gravelly and rough, but with an edge of exasperation lacing it. “I’m starting to feel like I have to be with you 24/7 or you’re going to end up in the hospital.”
Your breath is still leaving your lips in ragged gasps because of the slight scare of facing an inevitable fall, and your face is still pressed against Zoro’s chest. You feel the girls’ gaze on both of you and Zoro seems completely unfazed by it, while saying you’re embarrassed would be the understatement of the year.
So you disentangle yourself from the predicament that is Zoro’s muscles and laugh it off, a hand scratching the back of your neck. “Ah, thank you. I got… distracted.”
“By what?” He asks while taking a sip of water.
“Well, Zoro,” Nami begins, and he shifts his focus to her, “we were discussing who could be her secret admirer, and then you showed up. Curious.”
“Secret admirer?” Zoro’s gaze falls back on you, his brow scrunched.
“Ah, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s just–”
“She’s been getting gifts. Flowers, chocolates, love declarations…” Why is Nami exaggerating? Is she trying to fish for information or make Zoro jealous? “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with it, would you?”
He drinks the water in three long gulps before answering, his scowl now permanently etched on his lips. “Do I look like the kind of guy who would do that?”
You look down and bite your lower lip. You knew it wasn’t him, but maybe, secretly, there was still a little part of you that hoped he could be showering you with that kind of attention. 
“Well, I just thought–” Nami begins, but she’s swiftly interrupted by Zoro, whose eyes can’t seem to leave your figure.
“When I want someone, I make it clear I’m interested. You’ll know.” He finishes drinking the water just as your eyes meet his, and the fire burning there scalds and melts. Was he telling you he’s interested? Was he saying he’s about to make a move?
With a smirk, he turns his back, grunts a gruff ‘try not to fall again, Trouble’, and gets back to the game, leaving you more confused than ever. 
“Did he–” Nami starts.
“Nobody says anything. We’re going to act like nothing happened.” You mumble before getting up and chugging down an entire bottle of water yourself to try and calm your nerves.
It doesn’t work.
-*-
The frisbee game makes everyone tired - and hungry - so, after all the bellies are filled again, the crew is relaxing in the blanket, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon and the lulling sounds of the park. 
Chopper, Usopp, Luffy, and Barto are enjoying a card game. Franky seems interested, but he’s only overseeing and throwing advice that only seems to make Usopp lose the game. Robin has a book in her hands and Sabo’s head on her lap, his eyes closed with a blissful smile on his lips. 
You have serious doubts that she's paying attention to the book, especially since she seems to be stuck on the same page for over ten minutes, but you don’t say anything. Kaya is braiding Vivi’s hair and Nami is snapping photos of the crew, taking little candid shots with her cellphone. Brook is gracing everyone with a nice, mellow song on his violin - he's a wonderful musician - and Zoro seems to be sleeping peacefully, leaning against the tree.
Everything seems peaceful, quiet, and idyllic. 
But you can’t seem to shake the feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. It’s like someone is watching you, but you can’t quite pinpoint who or where. It’s a prickling on your neck, something you’re already growing so used to that you start to think you should have this checked out by a doctor. 
With a heavy sigh, you stand up, stretching your arms to justify that action. “I’ll be back soon.” You say softly to Nami, who’s closer to you and she nods. Then, you look around before taking a step. The park is one big open space - with the exception of some trees here and there - except for the dense treeline behind you. 
So that’s where you’re headed. 
-*-
Zoro senses you getting up and opens his eye slowly, following you with his gaze and scowling when you don’t see the tree root sticking out and stumble a little before steadying your pace. 
You’re such a damn klutz.
And damn it, if he doesn’t want to be there to catch you and protect you from everything. 
His heart constricts slightly at the thought, and he sighs softly. He thought absence had made him forget how he felt about you. He even had some ‘relationships’ while you were away. Wait… can he really call something that never went past three months a real relationship? He never truly bonded with those women. Never truly cared.
No one ever made him feel the way you did.
The way you do.
But time and distance did nothing but make him pine harder for you. When Nami told him casually that you were returning, he almost didn’t believe her. You didn’t even come back for any of the holidays or to say ‘hi’, let alone come back for good after experiencing life in the big city. 
But you returned.
And then he thought he wouldn’t quite forgive you for having literally abandoned them. No text, no email, no letter, nothing. He would be salty, at least. Grumpy and upset, at most.
But he forgave you instantly. 
One look at your dishevelled form, chasing a goddamned tire with dirt all over your clothes and face, and he was a lovestruck teenager again. 
Fucking heart, what a useless organ. 
All those thoughts forgotten, he simply reached out. And you reached back, almost like no time had passed between you, and you could basically continue your story where you left off. 
And he was willing to try.
Though he didn’t want to rush too fast - damn Nami should just stop intruding and let you two figure things out yourselves. He’d get there. He almost kissed you already, so the feeling is mutual. 
He’s got time.
Sitting up, he watches as you peek behind trees, a cautious demeanour to your posture making him raise his brow. What the hell are you doing?
“Just go to her, dumbass.”
“Shut up, Witch. Mind your own business.”
Nami sticks her tongue out at him and snaps a picture of his grouchy face before turning her phone towards you and snapping another candid shot. 
“You look like a lost puppy in love. It’s cute, you know? The way you keep looking out for her.” Zoro feels his ears heat up and leans back again, trying to close his eye and return to a state of relaxation, but he can’t very well do that when you’re doing God-knows-what near the trees, looking creepily at everywhere and everything. “Just make sure you make your move soon… or maybe that secret admirer will one-up you and poof!” She makes an exploding gesture with her hand, and Zoro scowls at her. 
“You’re insufferable.” He quips before getting up and dusting his jeans.
“Word of the day? How smart of you, Zoro.” She giggles when Zoro passes by her and messes up her hair with his hand, earning an indignant gasp from the orange-haired girl. “I just went to the salon, you brute!”
Zoro smirks at her reaction and starts pacing towards you, Nami’s antics behind him. Well… all except one…
‘Make sure you make your move soon…’
Perhaps he should. He doesn’t want to lose you before even having the chance to have you.
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|Chapter 4|
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