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goose-duck · 2 months

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♡Our World♡ (pt. 1)

Killer x Reader

Killer from One Piece comes to our world and meets u :D

Pt 2

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I was at work, not doing anything really, my boss has me working security at an empty court house. The place smells bad and has a rodent problem, but it's quiet so I don't mind. I was on my phone, writing a One Piece fanfiction. I love One Piece, it's always been my favourite anime. It was made before I was born in 2005, but my mother loved it so I often watched it with her as a child and I fell in love.

As I continued to write I heard a strange sound and saw a headache inducing light in front of me. I had no idea what I was looking at but it sure as hell wasn't normal. I get headaches easily due to a head injury so I wasn't even able to look at the light to see what was going on…to be fair I doubted a person without a head injury would've been able to either. My ears start ringing and my head feels light but not in a good way, the radio feels like it's blaring and I can't keep my eyes open. I was starting to get worried with this strange light, it wasn't coming from anything in the room, it was just there. I hold my head, trying to stay conscious as it feels like my head is exploding.

Suddenly it all stops and there's a man standing in the middle of the courthouse. I recognize him immediately, Killer, from One Piece. What the hell? Why is he here? Am I dead? Is this heaven?? Maybe it's hell…why would it be hell, he's my favourite character..? As I continue to ask myself questions with no tangible answer he turns his mask covered head to me, “hey.” he says, almost in a questioning tone but it sounds more like he’s just trying to get my attention. I quickly snap out of my thoughts and look up at him, “hi.” I say meekly, still confused and even a little scared, the lingering effects of my headache making it hard to keep my eyes open, all lights still bothering me.

He doesn't come any closer to me however he does turn his body to face me, “where am I? Did you do this?” he asks sternly, demanding an immediate answer with his tone. I get scared, I think he's really cool, but I wouldn't doubt he'd make me regret living if he thought I did this, “no…no! Nuh uh! Not me! That sounds really suspicious…uh…it wasn't me, I swear! I do however think you're in a different reality…” I say, trying to sound as normal as possible and quite frankly failing to the largest degree. He relaxes a bit, realizing there's absolutely no way I could have done this. He then sighs again, “another reality? What makes you think that?” he askes, sounding almost stressed, definitely worried and confused. “I mean…your name is Killer, right?” I say, almost unsure despite his appearance. It’s not a common name, if its his it'll be obvious who I'm talking to. He looks stunned, I may not be able to see his face but his body language is more than enough to tell how he feels. “yeah. That's my name.” he somehow seems less trusting of me now. He continues, “how’d you know that?” it's a good question to ask, even if I know he's from an alternate reality it doesn't explain how I know his name. I start sweating a bit, this is getting stressful, “because…um…uuuuhhhhhhh” I start panicking so I just make a weird noise and freeze up.

I stop with my stressed groan and just sit there giving him a very obtuse look. He crosses his arms and I'm sure under his mask he's giving me a look too. This has got to be one of the worst shows of my lack of social skills ever. He sighs and relaxes his body, “I'm not gonna hurt ya” he says, trying to reassure and calm me down so I'll talk. I start trying to stutter out my words but I make no progress, some weird squeak coming out of my throat instead of words. I begin to get annoyed with myself and sigh dropping my head onto my desk, “fuck.” I mumble under my breath. He walks over to me, causing me to quickly sit upright to get further away without looking rude. He notices this action isn't just me sitting up, it's me being afraid. He backs up a little, holding his hands up. I mumble out an apology, “s-sor-fucking…ugh…sorry.” I try to calm myself and speak with more conviction however it doesn't work very well, I sound as pathetic as before, but I've got a calmer look on my face. He nods at me, silently acknowledgeding and returning my apology.

I sigh for the millionth time, still trying to collect myself. I begin trying to explain in terms he’d understand, “I know your name because you're from a book in this world…the author drew you on the cover of one of the books. Does that make sense? Do I sound crazy? Who am I kidding of course I do…especially now that I'm talking to myself…” I start rambling towards the end, changing from talking to him to myself. Killer seems to be a little concerned with whatever my problem is but he understands my explanation. “you sound a little strange, however this whole situation is strange so that's not a big deal.” he responds, reassuring me I don't sound completely deranged. I nod at him, an awkward smile on my face.

I ask the question that needs to be asked, “so what now?” he hums, “I need a place to stay, would you be okay with that place being with you?” he asks politely, he's giving me room to back out but I'm sure he more than knows I'll say yes, either out of pity or because he's a character from a book I like. I nod at him, “yeah, yeah, that's okay, we can do that…uh…yeah.” I squabble out at him in response, trying to hide my excitement. He looks around, “is this your house?” “no, I just work here” “ah, it smells weird” “no kidding, it smells like old people” he seems to hold back a laugh at that…right, he doesn't like his laugh…hm…I wonder at what point in the story is he from..? “hey, Killer..?” I ask tp get his attention, he looks at me, “hm?” I take in a nervous breath of air, “what's the most recent event that’s happened in your life?” his body language screams confused, “what? Why? Shouldn't you know, you've read whatever book I'm from.” I respond quickly, “oh, uh, just so I don't spoil the future potentially” he nods, “Kid and I just left Wano.” he states calmly. “ah…okay…don't read the book or anything then.” I say a little quieter than my previous words. “oh? Okay.” he says, presumably giving me a strange look under his mask.

I sit there for a second before striking up a conversation again, “I'm here for a few more hours, then I can take us to my house.” I inform him. I'm lucky, not many people can afford a house nowadays, many struggle even with an apartment, I'm just lucky my grandparents left me their house. Killer nods at me, he doesn't seem to mind that he’ll have to stay at the courthouse for a few hours. I wonder if that's because he probably does a lot of just sitting around on a pirate ship…they have no internet or anything on one of those…though he'd have people to talk to, at this job it's just me…sometimes I wonder if it'll drive me crazy. At least I have him to talk to now, even if he is a man of notably few words, at least someone's listening and I don't come off as completely nuts.

He seems fascinated by the radio I have on. It makes sense, snails do this stuff in his world. My old school radio from the 80’s definitely isn't a snail. “whatcha thinking about?” I ask, not wanting to just assume I know what he's looking at. “this thing…what…what is it?” he sounds relaxed with me now, however I still sounded skittish. “oh, it's a radio, it's an old one from the 80’s.” I say, then I realize ‘the 80’s’ is probably something he's not gonna get and I mentally slap myself. “a radio? The 80’s? What year is it?” he asks sounding a little distressed again. “a radio works like a snail and its the year 2024.” I respond nervously. “oh.” he says, sounding very perturbed. I try to change the topic, finding the atmosphere is getting uncomfortable, “want a cookie? I bought one at Tim’s earlier.” I hold out a chocolate chip cookie to him. He takes it from me, “thanks.” he then turns away, presumably to eat it. I debate telling him I've already seen his face in the book or not but I decide not to for now, I'll let him show me if he wants to.

After he finishes the cookie he turns back around, “it was good…tell Tim it was good.” He seems to have assumed ‘Tim's’ is a small personal restaurant or maybe a friend, that tracks, in his world it probably would be. “Oh…uh…I can't…it's a restaurant chain.” “A restaurant chain?” “Yeah.” “What's that?” “Corperate business?” “Nope” “ugh” “sorry” “no, don't..I…ugh…it's like if I restaurant had some power in the government?” “Oh…alright.” That was a bit awkard, but I did enjoy hearing his voice a bit more, it's nice, the sub and the dub, he's always got a beautiful voice. I get a bit ballsy and tell him that, “you've got a nice voice.” He turns his head to look at me, seeming to check if i was telling the truth. After a few seconds of stunned silence he responds with an awkward, “thanks.” he then stands there for a few more seconds, thinking about something, “what's your name?” oh right, I hadn't introduced myself, “oh…Y/N.” he nods, “it's nice, suits you.” I giggle a bit, “thanks, picked it myself.” “you did?” “yeah.” “why?” “my old name didn't ‘suit me’.” “ah, I get that.” “you do?” “kinda.” “I belive you.” “thanks?” “you're welcome!” I enjoy the quick conversation, we seem to have a deeper understanding of each other now.

A few hours later and me and him are talking like long time friends. He's still got some walls up, but we're able to just chat, it's nice. I realize it's 5:00pm and I can go home so I start closing up. “what are you doing?” he inquires. “closing up so we can go home.” I respond, flicking the lights off, “can you help me with teh blinds? Some of them are hard to reach.” he nods and gets up, going to a window and twisting the thingy to close the blinds, he continues until they're all closed. “anything else?” he askes, willing to help me further if I need it. “The chairs out front, they're such a pain to bring in…I bet it'd be easy for you.” I ask, giving him a small sweet smirk. “why?” he asks. “why bring them in or why do I think it'd be easy for you?” “both.” “there's gonna be a hurricane, I don't want the chairs to blow away. Regarding the other thing…I think your eyes work well enough for that one.” he lets out what sounds like a scoff and a laugh, “yeah, I can see that.” I giggle a bit, “nah I'm so strong.” “sure, buddy” it feels like he's smiling behind his mask so I smile back. He then nods his head and leaves to bring the chairs in for me.

When he comes inside I ask him to close the door behind him, telling him we'll be leaving through the back door. He closes the door behind him and walks over to me packing up my work stuff, “I have the next two days off so we can spend some time together and I can teach you some basic stuff about this world so it's easier for you to be here.” “alright, sounds good.” he says, picking up my monster energy drink and looking at it a bit strange, “uh, weird drink branding…what is it?” “just an energy drink.?” “why do you need that?” “I've got no energy…also it tastes good.” “why do you have no energy?” “anemia.” my answer is so blunt it seems to stun him a bit before he nods and gives a small hum of acknowledgment. “think you can hold it for me? My hands are full and I gotta be able to lock the door.” I ask him, he once again nods at me. I then head for the back door, unlocking it so we can leave, then locking it behind us once we're bothe out.

“which way to your house?” he inquires. “huh? Oh, right. You don't know what a car is..” I respond sheepishly. “a..a what?” he seems confused, which is the obvious emotion one would feel in this situation. “those things that have been going past the building all day.” “do you live in one of those?” “no, but some people do.” “why mention them then?” “they're a mode of transportation.” “I see.” I then walk over to my car, a small orange car, nothing special, “this is my car.” he looks at it like it's the strangest thing ever, “it's very orange.” “I wanted it to be easy to find.” “you definitely can't miss it.” I giggle in response. I then think for a second…will he fit? Probably…he'll just have to move the seat back. He seems to be thinking the same thing, “will I fit?” he asks, his body language seeming a little worried. “yeah, just put your seat back…wait…no…I'll do it for you.” I unlock the car, putting my things behind my seat in the back. I think walk around to the front passenger seat and get in, pushing it back for him. Instead of getting out and walking around the car like a normal person I just climb over the center console and sit in the driver's seat. “alright, get in, buddy boy!” I say casually. He gets in, seeming to snort under his breath a little at my antics. He closes the door, thank the gods that's obvious enough that I don't have to explain it.

I put my seatbelt on then I look at him in anticipation for him to do the same thing…he doesn't. “uh..um…you see that thing above your right shoulder?” “the metal thing?” “yeah.” “what about it?” “pull on it.” he pulls on it. “put the metal bit in the red thingy” I point at it and he does it. I hear the click and nod, “that's a seatbelt, you gotta wear it in cars for safety.” he nods…he does a lot of nodding. “You can handle being on a ship…so…uh…you probably won't get car sick, but tell me if you feel sick, okay?” I ask him, giving him a lightly worried look. “I will.” he responds, turning his head to look at me. I start the car and his breathing seems to stifle a bit before he calms down. “you good?” he nods at me, “yeah, just wasn't expecting that.” I nod at him, takinga page from his book and not saying anything further. I then start driving, he doesn't seem too worried about this, given he's on Kid’s crew I imagine he's dealt with worse.

Once we get to my house and parked in the driveway I unbuckle my seatbelt and look at him again, hoping he caught onto that. He looks at me awkwardly…clearly he didn't get that. “push on the red thing you put the seatbelt in” I whisper to him as if someone else would hear. He awkwardly nods and does it. I then get out of the car, him following soon after, still holding my monster…he's been holding it this whole time…oops. I grab my things from the back seat and walk up to my house, unlocking the door and walking in, giving Killer a gesture to follow. He follows behind me, closing the door when he gets inside. My house opens to a small space with some stairs upwards. I kick my shoes off and walk upstairs. He follows suit, however being a bit less aggressive about taking his shoes off, opting to slip them off rather than just violently kicking them off. He follows me up the stairs that leaf to the living room, kitchen and a hallway. I set my stuff in the kitchen on the counter by the back door, he sets my drink down there too. “thanks.” I say giving him a soft smile when he sets my drink down. “you're welcome.” he says. I'd half expected to just get a nod but this is nice.

I walk more into the center of the kitchen. “I'll give you a quick tour!” I say with some slight enthusiasm, he nods in return, watching as I walk back over to the back door, “this is the back door…obviously…” I then turn to the right, “this is a washroom.” I turn to the right again, “closet.” he nods at me and watches me slide on my socks back into the center of the kitchen, “kitchen!” I do a large enthusiastic gesture like this is some grand show. I then walk over to the left where the dining room is, it's just a table on the other side of the kitchen counter, “dining room…” I then wonder into the room next door that funnily enough doesn't actually have a door, not from this side at least, “den area.” he follows me into the room, observing it a bit and seeing some things that tip him off that the town he's in is near the ocean.

I then open the folding wooden door and walk through. He doesn't immediately follow, he's looking at a shelf beside the door, it has my graduation picture and pictures of my friends and two of my cousins. “who are these people?” he points at a picture of me and two boys as kids. “oh, that's me and my cousins.” “ah” “why do you ask?” “kid kinda looked like you.” I giggle at the irony of the kid actually being me. He seems to look at the pictures like he's looking for something. “you good?” “huh? Oh, yeah.” I seem to have caught him off guard. I give him a look, one that says ‘what are you looking for’ before shaking my head and continuing with my tour. “This is the living room!” I say enthusiastically, diverting his attention completely away from whatever he was thinking. He looks around in here too, noting how it's more vacant than the well decorated den.

I then go down the earlier mentioned hall, “there's a bigger washroom over here..” I point at the first door on the left, “and every other room is bedrooms. Mine is that one” I point at the last door on the left, there's only four door down this hall, meaning the other two are guest rooms. “the one with the queen size bed is the last door on the right and the other one has two twin beds. He nods at me and goes down to the room with the queen sized bed. He hesitates to open the door, “go in” I encourage. He opens the door and looks I side. He looks at the room like it's the ugliest thing he's ever seen. “something wrong?” “red, green and yellow…um…everything?” “yes?” “why?” “because it is.” he looks at me like there's something wrong with me. The rest of my house looks normal except for this guest room…I couldn't be bothered to fix it because I'm not in there often so it looks like how my grandparents had designed it.

“My room’s right across the hall if you need anything.” I say with a friendly tone. He nods at me and despite his judgment of my guest room he thanks me for giving him a place to stay anyway. “we'll deal with the clothes problem tomorrow, I think you'll be okay for tonight, right?” he nods, “yeah, I'll be okay for now.” I smile at him, “wanna see my room?” “sure.” I open the door to a relatively normal room, a bit messy and there's some One Piece related things but it ultimately looks normal. Why does it looks normal? Because there's a room I haven't shown killer yet. It's got my gaming set up and all my merch from different things i like…it's also got a washing machine and a drier. “nice room.” “thanks.”

“what about that room you walked past earlier?” “what room?” “the door in the kitchen?” “oh.” that's the door to the room…guess I'll have to show him. I signal for him to follow me and I open the door, theres wooden stairs that lead to an open space. I walk down and he follows. Once we get down there and around the stairs he sees many One Piece and other interesting merch items, he also sees my PC set up and a landry machine…he then sees the figures I have of him and he barely contains his laughter. “your laugh is beautiful, however, do not.” I look at him with shame and embarrassment. He struggles to hold in his laughter, snickering under his breath but calms himself and nods. “it's…great.” he tries to tell me, “don't lie.” “it's amazing.” “Killer.” “Y/N.” we stare at each other for a bit before I start laughing and he does too, he clearly is embarrassed by his laugh but can't stop it so I reassure him, “your laugh is so lively, I love it!!” I continue to laugh about my tragic obsession being on full display. He continues to laugh but gives me a genuine thankful smile for my compliment, it's like he's never heard someone say they love his laugh. Maybe he hasn't, but I love it, I do, I really do and I can see he knows it. Even if I can't actually see the smile on his face his body language changed instantly after I said that, he was calm with me anyway but it seemed like any lingering concerns melted away.

Once we both stop laughing we go back upstairs. He offers to make supper since he's gonna be staying with me for a bit and I have to break the news that I have practically no food in my house. He seems confused at that…why did have nothing here? What do I even have? “what do you have?” he asks. “uh…” I'm not even too sure myself anymore. I open the fridge to see milk, orange juice and bread. I then open the freezer, there's microwave steamed buns and some ice cream…and a frozen chocolate bar for some reason?? What the hell was I doing?? I then go to the cupboards, there's bearpaws and goldfish crackers. “um…sorry?” I uppologize confusedly, unsure if he'd be upset with me.

He just pats my head, seemingly feeling bad for me. “I won't take your food tonight.” he says kindly, walking off to the guest room, probably to sleep so he doesn't feel hungry. I feel bad that I have no food…I don't have the money for food…Killer doesn't seem upset with me, but he seems worried, he feels bad for me and my lack of food. I sigh and go to my room too, I didn't even get to show him the TV or my phone but maybe that's for the best for now…give him some time to think about what he's already seen. I go to my bedroom, not to sleep, but just to play games on my phone for a while. I'll wait for him to come talk to me if he wants to tonight and if not then I'll see him in the morning…presuming he's still here in the morning.

#one piece #killer one piece #one piece killer #killer x reader #op killer #killer op #one piece x reader #y/n #character x reader #our world #one piece fanfiction #massacre soldier killer

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bangtanintotheroom · 2 years

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Where is Everybody?

Hello there! So, this post here is gonna be a doozy, but I need to get some things off my chest and hopefully, I can get some answers at the end of the day.

For the last few months, I’ve noticed a significant downtick in interactions on here. And it’s not just for my blog, quite a few of my moots seem to going through the same issue as well.

On top of that, the ever-present issue of liking over reblogging seems to have just gotten worse.

The main question I want to ask is why?

I know the holidays are a busy time for many people, but compared to last year when I joined, it almost feels like a ghost town. I ask if people want to see teasers or graphics I made and out of the significant amount of followers, I only get a handful interacting, many of them my moots (ily guys so much and appreciate you mwah 💋)

I was letting it slide until I saw the amount of notes Offsite Services has been getting. Mind you, it’s a drabble collection based off of Fanservice, which judging by notes, is one of my most infamous works. Here’s a comparison:

Fanservice: 1,877 notes

Offsite Services: 180 notes with Up Close and Personal having 242 notes while “Bear” with Me only has 111 notes

You see what I mean? Offsite Services only has just under 10% of Fanservice’s notes. And they’re in the same series!

It’s bothering me because so many people for months have been asking for updates for this series. Now that I started it back up, it’s practically radio silence and it’s highly discouraging. It definitely cemented my decision to work on whatever speaks to me at the moment and not try to rush things out, only for it to get little recognition.

And to get back to the likes/reblogs issue, lately, it’s seemed like it’s worsened these last couple of months. I know there’s a lot of users who shifted here from Twitter thanks to the madness that’s been going on, but you need to understand something:

Likes do not spread our work around.

Works can get buried within tags, especially if they don’t have a large amount of notes, which makes it harder to get recognition. By reblogging, it introduces our fics to a wider audience, even if you only have a handful of followers. Believe me, it helps!

And feedback is always helpful as well! You don’t even have to write a full essay, something along the lines of ‘thank you for writing this!’ or ‘wiofwoihih this was SO GOOD’ is highly appreciated.

Also, my ask box is always open, for anons and non-anons. If you want to talk about something or just say hi or discuss a fic or WIP, don’t be shy! I might not respond right away, but that’s because I’m busy or at work. I only won’t respond if it’s a request (REQUESTS ARE CLOSED INDEFINITELY) or someone demanding I update a fic (which hasn’t happened yet, thank God).

I don’t want to drag this on much longer, so I want to just cap this off by asking again why there’s less people interacting lately. These are the answers I came up with:

1. BTS’ hiatus (which doesn’t make sense to me because now would be the best time to catch up on fan content but 🤷🏾‍♀️)

2. Taking a break from Tumblr

3. Not enough time to read

Again, these are only my theories, but I won’t know for sure unless you guys tell me. If you know the reason why and would like to tell me, feel free to come to my ask box. All I ask is that you don’t be rude or extremely defensive; whatever reason you might have is valid and I’m not trying to start any fights. I just want some clarity to help ease this question that’s been bothering me for the last couple of months.

Thank you so much if you read all of this, I appreciate it greatly. I hope everyone has a steady 2023 and I wish you all the best. 💕

- AJ 💜

#rambles #important

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meyerlansky · 4 months

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twenty questions for fic writers!

tagged by @redbelles AND @inkpot-demigod 🖤💙🖤💙 took me eighteen years but i figured i ought to get it done before the emoji asks >_>

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

39!

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

133,253

3. what fandoms do you write for?

right now it's just masters of the air, because i really only focus on one fandom at a time but i also don't really LEAVE fandoms so much as they go dormant for a bit. in the last year i've at least TOUCHED wips for boardwalk empire and the witcher, and once bachelor route drops i will probably go back to some of my pathologic 2 fics and maybe come up with new stuff. same with HotD s2, although i don't know how much new stuff will come out of that vs finishing up things in metamorphoses.

4. top five fics by kudos

keep safe broad shoulders, warm hands keds and tube socks vestis virum facit denuo

so mostly burakhovsky smut, except for keep safe which is outsider pov nearly-gen lambden (from the witcher and specifically witcher 3) fic, and i have NO idea how it's my most-kudosed fic; and keds and tube socks, which is a long-ass (for me) steddie fic that i WILL finish at some point i am so sorry to everyone who's subbed to that fic /o\

5. do you respond to comments?

I TRY MY BEST ;___; i really like talking to people about fic, mine and others', so every comment i've left unresponded-to haunts me, but sometimes i can't get over my own anxiety enough. the only time it's deliberate is if the only content in the comment is "you have to write more of this" or anything similar and phrased EXCLUSIVELY like a demand, because It's Rude and also i have no idea how to respond to that.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

explicitly angsty is probably with my ash-stained palms or broad shoulders, warm hands because neither ryuzo or daniil get what they want in those ones, though i think bswh!daniil would get what he wants eventually. ryuzo, maybe not >_> dancing cheek to cheek (to cheek) is also probably up there, but that's more interesting because it's not angsty on the page! and i WAS planning on leaving it as is, originally! that's why it has the canon compliant tag! but now i'm 8k deep in a canon-divergent sequel so idk if it counts anymore. genuinely i was planning on answering this with "i don't write a lot of unresolved angst" but. hm.

...wait, also hot blood, deep roots. which is the dark mirror nightmare counterpart of bswh and is... definitely worse. and i have something even worse in my wips okay i guess i write more angst than i thought

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

probably vestis virum facit, since the final section is implied to be far-enough post-plague that they're Gonna Be Okay. but like the angst question, i don't really think of too many of my fics as the And They Lived Happily Ever After, The End type so much as like... they're happy In That Moment and that's what matters

8. do you get hate on fics?

i got put on the patho fandom blacklist for associating with Freaks And Criminals, and then i wrote hot blood, deep roots to cement my spot on it, so if that counts that's the extent of it afaik. i do worry about catching flak for stuff down the line, but honestly haters tend to be cowards, sooo

9. do you write smut?

LOVE WRITING SMUT. LOVE IT WHEN MY GUYS NAIL EACH OTHER. IT'S MY FAVORITE. i had like a year-long stint before stranger things s4 where i only posted genfic and i was SO disappointed with myself, even though the stuff i posted was GOOD genfic

10. craziest crossover:

don't really do crossovers! but entertaining daemon au thoughts is how i know i'm in a fandom deep enough that it's gonna stick for a bit, even though i've only posted daemon au fic for bwe thus far

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

also not to my knowledge!

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

i'm not opposed to spitballing with people, and some of my best bwe work has come out of very long headcanon exchanges with @goatsandgangsters and @therestisdetail in particular, but i am not a consistent enough writer to saddle anyone else with my habits, so that's the closest i've gotten to cowriting anything.

14. all time favorite ship?

L A N S K I A N O. they are my forever boys. nothing will topple them. ever.

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

NONE OF MY WIPS ARE ABANDONED THEY ARE ALL GOING TO GET DONE EVENTUALLY DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT

16. what are your writing strengths?

snappy dialogue and the internal character work involved in a tight third person pov, which is good since a tight third is the only way i like to write

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

speed. if i don't finish something inside of a week of starting it, it will drag out for an infinity and a half and i'll have to chip away at it and hate myself for being slow the whoooooooooole time. i also... i have no idea how to explain this, but i don't consider myself an especially creative person, so i have trouble if i don't have a jumping off point to start with? most of my fics have pretty solid touchpoints in the canon and tend to be one-shots, if not single-scene. coming up with new shit for my dudes to do can be a struggle. which, tbh, adds to the speed thing, especially for stuff that tilts off into canon-divergent territory

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

alright, listen, i might have an entire buryat dictionary database downloaded onto my hard drive to spice up patho fic, but i'm in agreement with previous answers on this one: it can get dicey to write in a language you don't know, and if your readers don't know it it will interrupt the flow in a way that's not usually what i'm looking to do in a fic. that said, most of my fandoms have at LEAST one non-english language involved, if not multiple, so i do end up doing a lot of research into those languages, and i'm absolutely not opposed to pulling out single-words or phrases after either a. checking with someone who speaks those languages, if it's a real one, or b. pulling them from their usage in the canon itself and/or sometimes extrapolating out a bit, like the high valyrian i peppered into chrysalis

19. first fandom you wrote in?

boardwalk empire my beloved 🖤🖤🖤 i played around with some stuff prior to that—i think i'd noodled with what would technically be alice in wonderland fic in high school, although i don't remember what happened in it—but nothing substantial enough to count as Actual Fic, and definitely not anything i have access to anymore

20. favorite fic you've written?

MAN. HOW TO CHOOSE. it's maybe a little bit of recency bias to say dancing cheek to cheek (to cheek), but i think it's a tie between that and junkyard dogs, and both for the same reason, which is that i am really proud of the character work they do with curt and eddie, respectively. i'm not SURPRISED jd is as low on the hits/kudos/etc scale as it is since it's genfic and billy is...... divisive........... but i really think i nailed eddie in it. with dctc(tc) it was fun to get to play with curt, who's... look, i'm just gonna say it, i think he gets mischaracterized in a lot of the other fandom stuff i've seen involving him, so it was fun to get how i read him down on the page. it's also interesting to not only develop curt internally but to look at the buckies from an outsider POV, because they are UNDENIABLY the love story at the center of MotA's narrative, but they're both IN IT so they can't SEE IT. i also don't usually do scene breaks? like most of my fics are single-scene but i dragged dctc(tc) out and shockingly it WORKED? so yeah idk i'm just really proud of it.

OKAY. WHOOF. TIME FOR TAGS. let's seeeeeeeeee i will tag @goatsandgangsters @hosseinis @chirpybirdy @sweaterkittensahoy @reiverreturns

@samuelroukin @stoportotouch @notgrungybitchin @adriennefrombrooklyn and anyone else who wants to, but no pressure as always!

#twenty questions meme #my fic #it counts. why not.#long post #forgot that tag. sorry.

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badlucksav · 4 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you @nyamadermont for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 199. I don’t know what the 200th will be yet 😅

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 1,836,320. That’s a whole lot of characters kissing.

3. What fandoms do you write for? My most common ones are Avatar: The Last Airbender and Avatar: Legend of Korra, but I’ve also written fics for The 100, Six of Crows, Law & Order: SVU, Spiderman (Tom Holland), Harry Potter, MCU, The Last of Us, Soul Eater, Spy x Family, Stranger Things, and Twilight.

Honestly though I haven’t been writing much fanfic. I’ve shifted what focus I have for writing to poetry and original fiction.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. The Proposal — a Zutara AU based on the 2009 Sandra Bullock & Ryan Reynolds movie of the same name.

2. An Unlikely Alliance — a Zutara season 2 divergence fic where they find themselves traveling together

3. Your Number 1 Fan — a NSFW Zutara AU where Katara is a cam girl and Zuko is a subscriber

4. Perks of Being Your Neighbor — a Zutara modern AU with fluffy good “neighbors” tropes as well as big brother Zuko to an orphaned Kiyi.

5. Play with Fire — yet another Zutara modern AU. This time, they’re in college. Slowburn, tons of pining.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! Comments are a writer’s lifeblood. The only time I usually don’t is if the comment is rude or demanding of an update.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

That would hands down be The Conduit, if only because I left it on one hell of a cliffhanger and then never wrote the sequel.

My bad yo

Second angstiest (sort of?) would be The Ghost of You (iykyk)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I like happy endings, so I feel like most of my fics have one. I’d say, for the level of pining and enemies-to-lovers aspect, The Proposal probably takes that cake.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Can’t get hate if you write rare pairs or rarely post

But yes, I used to. It actually drove me away from posting on ffn, and also drove me away from the Zutara fandom for a long time (and even still, I’ve never really come back).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh yes, oh yes I have. And I write everything from soft vanilla first time sex to dirty kinky hot sex. Fully depends on my mood.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t write them much, but the crackiest one was definitely the drabble I wrote throwing Rocket from Guardians of the Galaxy, Joel from The Last of Us, and Kaz Brekker from Six of Crows into an elevator together.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think I’ve had a few requests for permission to translate, but I’m not sure if anything was ever actually translated.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I co-wrote with @idklolwot!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oofers, what a loaded question. All time favorite? Like I have to pick one?? Impossible.

It’s a tie between Irosami and Zutara.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oof, at this point like all of them 💀 at least as fanfic. I’m considering taking some and turning them into original fiction.

16. What are your writing strengths?

People seem to like the character interactions I write as well as how i describe settings and the character’s inner monologues.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I definitely find the climax/conclusion to be the hardest. Maybe that’s why I never finish fics.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If I spoke other languages fluently, I think I’d give it a try. But I don’t, so I won’t.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

First fandom I wrote and posted for was Avatar: The Last Airbender. But I recently unlocked memories of writing super cringe Twilight fanfic in middle school that never saw the light of day.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

This answer changes often. There are so many fics I love for different reasons (The Conduit is some of my most creative work, The Fire and the Flood is some of my best writing, The Proposal is actually finished…) but as of right now, it’s The Fire and the Flood. Maybe because I’m rereading it and falling in love with it again.

Tagging some of my favorite writer folks. If you’ve already been tagged, feel free to ignore 🤣

@orangepanic @neva-borne @mycomfortblanket @krastbannert @authorjoydragon

#tag game #20 questions #20 questions for fic writers

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prettyblondguys · 2 years

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Eye Contact

Here have this Eddie comforting/being nice to reader fic i definitely didn't write bc I was feeling bad about my anxiety '_' Eddie is a very nice weirdo in this and I love him.

Warnings: reader has bad anxiety, mentions of an anxiety attack, minor mentions of tactile hallucinations bc those fkng suck, cussing, I think that's it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Open your eyes."

The demand throws you mentally off balance, eyes shooting open to stare at the teacher standing in front of you, the sentence you were in the middle of dying on your lips.

"What?" You smile nervously, feeling the looks from the other students sitting around you.

Mrs. Silmore, the history teacher, looked less than pleased by your question, her hands resting on her hips as she stares you down.

"You keep closing your eyes when you talk, and avoiding eye contact. It's very rude."

You hadn't noticed you were doing that, but the flood of embarrassment washes over you like a cold front, palms suddenly sweaty and mouth dry. You believe her, you knew you struggled with eye contact because of your anxiety, but you didn't know it was that bad, and certainly not that noticeable. And you didn't know you closed your eyes, but now that's all you can think about as you try to say something.

You had been answering a question about the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, feeling somewhat proud for making yourself raise your hand, something you were now regretting.

"Oh, oh um, I'm sorry.." You stutter out, feeling the heat flush to your cheeks as a few kids snicker, your mind going blank, "I was saying that...that uh..if he hadn't, hadn't been..there…" The snickers get louder, or maybe they don't, maybe they're just echoing through your head, bouncing around and ricocheting off the thoughts of "you're a freak" "who closes their eyes while talking?" "You're not normal" "you're not normal you're not normal you're not normal"

"Sorry," you mumble, voice pathetically small, willing yourself to keep eye contact, "I lost my train of thought."

"Hm," Mrs. Silmore walks back to the blackboard, finally looking away, "anyone else?"

Your eyes drop to your desk and stay there for the rest of class, trying to ignore the anxiety induced itch creeping along your arms. Freak. You just can't be normal, can you? The bell signals the end of your quiet suffering, and you stand to hurry out of the room, apologizing when you accidentally bump into someone in your haste, speeding out of the room before they even reply. Out in the hall you side step and avoid the barreling masses as you try to make your way to the bathroom, a ball forming and growing in your chest, crawling up your throat and making it hard to breathe. You burst through the bathroom door and grab hold of a sink, taking deep shuddering breaths as your fingers grip the basin, eyes squeezed shut. In, 1 2 3 4, hold, 1 2 3 4, out, 1 2 3 4 5 6. Repeat. The feeling shrinks and crawls back into your chest, nestled against your breastbone where it normally resides, smaller but never gone. Always there.

A group of girls walk in and shoot you glances, you recognize one of them, Nancy, you think, as she eyes you quizzically. "Hey, are you okay?" Freak. Freak. Freak. Your hands begin to shake as you turn the water on, "Yeah, I'm good." You manage, running your hands under the stream before turning it off, grabbing a few paper towels and brushing past her out into the hall, halfway to your next class when you realize you're still holding the paper towels. Why can't you be normal?

~~~~~~~~~~~

You finally reach free period and it couldn't have come sooner. You'd been stuck in your head ever since history class, well, more stuck than usual. Flytrap level stuck instead of scotch tape stuck. You sit on the bottom bleacher, staring out at the empty football field, mind swarming despite the fresh air and fair weather.

It hadn't even been the first time someone pointed out your social issues, just the most public. You couldn't count the number of times your parents had reprimanded you for not looking at them when speaking, or moving away when they went to touch you during a bad anxiety episode. They didn't understand that none of it was an insult to them, that you wished you could act like everyone else, laughing and talking and not having to worry if you were doing what a normal person would do, wondering if you were sitting like a normal person, talking like a normal person, existing like a normal person. They had no idea what it was like in your head, and boy oh boy, they sure didn't want to either.

Freak. Freak. Sitting here by yourself staring at nothing like a freak.

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" The shout comes from a few feet away, from a guy standing on the bleacher seats and walking towards you, arms waving towards the empty field. He plops down beside you with a huff, "Can you believe he fumbled the ball like that?" He shakes his head harshly, shaggy hair whipping around as he sighs dramatically, eyes moving across the field as if watching a game. You remember him from the cafeteria a few times, always loud and energetic, not seeming to care who looked his way or what they thought of him. You had wondered many times how he could be so comfortable drawing that much attention to himself. But then again, dressed the way he was, in ripped black jeans and a leather jacket, chains and a shirt that fits him like that, he had to be more than ok with the looks he must get.

"Yeah," you mumble, wondering if he's crazy or just bored, "what a disgrace to the team." He lets out a snort before adding, "Oh, to the very game itself!" You laugh, deciding he must just be bored. You both sit there quietly, staring out at the field and not saying anything. Which is fine. Sometimes people do this. They just sit. This is normal. You aren't being weird. You aren't being weird. You're being weird. He's probably waiting for you to talk, he spoke last and now it's your turn. But it's been too long since the silence started, won't you look even weirder for a delayed comment as opposed to an absent one?

"Oh look, a streaker." He calmly breaks the silence for you, and you can't help the laugh that bubbles up, sharp and loud, your hand flying up to cover your mouth in embarrassment. "Come on," he continues, apparently spurred on by your outburst, "don't laugh at the poor guy, his bits don't look that weird." You laugh again, this time not bothering to suppress it. "You're right," you say, playing along, "I don't wanna give him a complex." He laughs, a deep, full laugh.

"Hey, don't worry about it, by the way," he says after a minute, eyes still fixed on the field. Confused, you rack your brain for what he could mean. "Huh?" He leans forward like he's suddenly enthralled by the imaginary game, then disappointedly slumping down. He's really invested in this bit, isn't he? "You skedaddled outta there before I could tell you." He explains, as if that explained anything. You slowly shake your head, more confused than ever. "Sorry?"

"COME ON COME ONE COME ON COME O- OHH, DAMNIT." He's suddenly standing up, screaming at the field. Nope. Not bored, crazy.

"History class," Oh. Was he there? Did he see? Of course he did if he was there. Was he snickering? The thoughts start flooding back. "You bumped into me," he clarifies, sitting back down. "You left before I could tell you not to worry about it."

"Oh."

"Not that I blame you," he adds, leaning back on his elbows, "Mrs. Silmore is a total soul-crusher."

"Yeah, I guess." Freak. Freak. Freak. He saw you. He thinks you're a freak. He's just trying to be nice because he feels bad for you.

"Yup. Eye contact is overrated." You chuckle at his words, feeling that ball of anxiety staying firmly snug in your chest, sated for the time being. "I'm just.." You start, choosing your words carefully, "not good at it, when..talking to people." He nods like it's the most normal thing, like I'm normal.

"Well, I won't look at you if you don't look at me."

You smile, yeah, definitely crazy. "Deal."

A few minutes pass in silence, although it's a comfortable silence this time, interrupted by Eddie letting out a long sigh.

"Would you look at that score? 0 to 0. What a terrible fake football game."

#soft eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie my beloved #eddie x anxious reader

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the-present-is-a-gift-au · 7 months

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Chapter 26: In Which Darkrai Asks a Question

Twig sent back a note that she had some loose ends to tie up before she could visit Kip, hoping that the note would buy her some time thanks to how she hadn’t specified a day she’d be coming back to Treasure Town. Ark, confusingly, almost elected to stay home when she ran to the post office to deliver it. She told him she was heading out, and he replied with a distracted hum. Confused, she asked if he wanted to come along, and he seemed to snap awake and rushed after her out the door. He watched everyone and everything with a strange look in his eyes as they made their way through Verdant Village— somewhere between sorrowful longing and bitter anger. Whatever it was in his gaze, it wasn’t the awkward, distant sort of cheerfulness she was used to from him. He wasn’t regarding everything with a wide-eyed awe— it was a narrow sort of scrutiny that didn’t fit on Ark’s face.

Honestly, he seemed a bit ticked in his distractedness. There were moments he was almost irritable— not enough to truly be called irritable, though, because this was Ark she was talking about. He just seemed a bit… short. Maybe a little snippy in how he responded to her questions about if they had enough food to make it to the next weekday market. Not enough to qualify as rude, but he was colder than usual.

Weird. She could look past it though. She had her moodier days— he probably was just going through one of his own.

She ignored all of that, but she couldn’t look past him asking her that long-dreaded question as she sorted through the groceries she’d grabbed on the way back from the post office, glad to finally be home. “How long were you planning on keeping this up?”

She set down an oran berry she was examining for bruises, confused. “What the heck are you talking about, man?”

“How long did you intend to lie to me?”

“Dude, I’ve never once lied to…”

Oh.

She recognized the chilliness to his tone now, the coldness of his gaze. She recognized the way he postured himself and seemed to take all the light out of the room with his presence.

It all belonged to Darkrai, of course, and fit so poorly on Ark.

Suddenly a number of things made sense— the fact that he knew Kip had a cowardly streak, the way he spoke as he asked her about joining Team Venture, even the way that he held himself these past weeks— Darkrai remembered. He remembered, and he was mad. Twig had never once seen him upset. Never ruffled, never perturbed— Darkrai was always calm, always cool, always collected, and never the picture of burning cold rage before her.

She should be terrified. Something in her was definitely cowering at the sight of Darkrai so furious before her, but she managed to hold her ground despite the coward in her begging to run. She was tired. Maybe she was ready to die if it meant she could get some rest.

“Your answer?” He demanded.

She tried to come up with some pacifying response to give him, but could only summon the truth. She was tired. It had been a long time of lying to keep people safe. She had already messed everything up. Why not get some stuff off her chest before she kicked the bucket? “I was going to keep it up as long as it took.”

“You fully intended to keep my past hidden from me, tucked tidily away for all of time?” He loomed over her— or more like he tried to, at least. Twig didn’t back down.

She gave him a weary glare. “Can you blame me?”

A long, tense silence filled the air. It felt like if she reached out a claw, she could pluck it like a string.

“Are you going to kill me?” She asked.

Conflict flashed across his face.

“Just get it over with already. I’ve been waiting for this to happen. Might as well get it done after all that waiting.”

“I’m not—”

“Not what?” She spat. “Not the type to get your hands dirty? Too bad. If you leave me alive, I’ll tell Kip and Cresselia— everyone— and we’ll be stuck in the same situation we started in. You’ll face off with us in Dark Crater, I’ll end up cursed or whatever that arm thing you did was, and you’ll end up without your memories again or something. I don’t care. Just get it over with.” Tears pricked at her eyes despite her frustration. “I’m tired. I’m done. I blew the shot I had at keeping everyone safe and getting a friend while I was at it. So kill me.”

Again, that conflict flickered across his features. He scowled and seemed to ready himself to deal that mortal blow… but he vanished instead, melted into the shadows. She could sense he was still in the room, judging by the heavy atmosphere that surrounded him remaining, but he was gone without a visible trace.

Twig got the feeling he didn’t want to talk. Too bad.

“You’ve got the perfect opportunity here, man. It’d be kind of stupid to pass it up when I’m literally telling you to get it over with.”

Silence.

“You’d be doing me a favor, you know,” she murmured.

No answer.

“… How long have you remembered?”

The heaviness in the air crescendoed, and then it lifted. He was gone.

Twig wondered why he left without finishing the job.

#the present is a gift au #pmd explorers #pmd fanfic #pmd fanfiction #pmd eos #pmd fic #pmd2 #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd sky #pmd

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peste-bubonica · 2 years

Note

In the corpse spouse AU how did y/n and eclipse first interaction go? (I need drawing material haha)

Eclipse: *exists*

Y/N:

It was loathe at first sight

But in all seriousness, I was gonna touch on this on next chapter, so I guess you can have this as a preview or something

Looking at him now, you can’t help but go back to when you first met him. You note, with no small amount of distaste, that despite the years that have passed, how little he has change.

The memories come unwillingly, feeling like hours in what were actually a few seconds. Images of a blue sky with white, fluffy clouds, people waking around minding their own business; screams of terror coming from children running out the forest, slight tremors beneath your feet in their wake. Your parents taking you home in a desperate run.

It wasn't until a few days later, when things had calmed down, that you saw what had caused such panic in the people.

You were called to deal with a new wealthy folk, one that apparently had made your town their home during the panic that had occurred. You didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't... whatever this was.

Giant machinery with two legs and two arms, and while the fact that it had managed to get clothes that fit, the thing that most captured your attention was its head in the shape of a sun.

You would even go to so far as to call its face mesmerizing were it not for the dark scowl being aimed directly at you.

You don't notice the sneer you aim back.

Scoffing, it looks behind you, to the messenger that came to fetch you.

"This is the best this town had to offer?" He? It sounded like a he, spit out, as if disgusted he was even talking to them. The audacity! "I wasn't even expecting much, but this is just embarrassing."

Now normally, you would avoid most negative comments to rude people that sought your help, but this... this thing just directly insulted your abilities to your face, and was being unnecessary unpleasant! There was a lot you were willing to endure; this wasn't it.

"–Whatever. Fleshling, you will do-"

"Shut up." You spat, voice positively venomous; so much, in fact, the machine recoiled slightly, before narrowing his eyes, insulted by the audacity of the small (to him) human.

"What," He lowered his head slightly to look at you directly in the eyes, an you swore that even at a distance, you felt heat coming off of him in waves, "did you say?"

Unfazed, you stare back unblinkingly before taking a step forward and pointing at his face. "I said, 'Shut. Up'."

Growling, the unnamed thing shoves his head even closer, so much that if you extended your arm, it would touch him, and you had no doubt you would get burnt.

"Now listen here, you pest!-" Not giving him a second to continue, you shove yourself even further, hand just hovering a few inches off his face.

"No, you listen here!" You exclaim, interrupting him again. "You asked for me, not the other way around. You do not get to boss me around as you wish. My services only include advice and an easier way to form relationships in this community, I will not tolerate another insult." Taking a deep breath, you try and calm yourself before you say something you shouldn't, "If you have a problem with it, then you are free to do whatever you need on your own."

Never had someone made you feel so pissed in your life. Honestly, you had received worse from the older generations at the beginning of your job, but it was as if he activated the fight response in you. Now, you were starting to get a little worried at the lack of an answer.

He doesn't speak and his face is blank; you don't know what he is thinking, and you honestly can't decide if that's a good thing or not.

Had you been able to read his mind, you would definitely settle on the latter.

In his mind, it's as if he is just now truly seeing you.

When he first came those few days ago, he immediately rose to the top; no one dared question him. What he demanded was done, and so help anyone that showed any rebellious attitude; a glare, then he wouldn't get any more trouble from them.

Yet now, here you stood, young, foolish, weak human, criticizing his manners, having the nerve to interrupt him, even after all the intimidation he did; standing your ground despite the fact that you could undoubtedly tell he could burn you if you got any closer.

'This feeling...' Whatever it was, he hadn't ever felt it before, and by god, he didn't want it to stop. The closest he had felt to this was that fateful night when he became free.

Making up his mind, he finally connects back to his body, noting that your eyes were less irritated but no less fierce. Smirking, he goes back to his full height, easily towering above most of the houses.

"Fine, then. Let's get to work, miss...?"

The sudden change takes you off guard, he can tell, if only because he was looking so intensely at you, otherwise he would have missed it. He didn't really need your name, the pathetic human that had gone to get you had only told him your surname, however.

"L/N"

Pity, he was hoping to get your name. No matter, he will get it from you one way or another. For now, he would enjoy this new feeling that seemed to be related to you.

"Pleasure. You will call me Eclipse."

#corpse spouse au #I'm so sorry this took so long #hope this is decent enough #frend :>

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horrorknife · 3 months

Note

need ur hoffheight thoughts on 3 + 4 + 18 + 26!

3) What was their first impression of each other?

at first adam's kind of scared of this huge lumbering monosyllabic man who just pulled him out of that bathroom, and then he's just Irritated w him once shit settles down because hoffman is, above all else, fucking infuriating hoffman saves adam from the bathroom cuz it makes him feel some shit he thought died inside him a long time ago. unfortunately the kid is annoying and asks soooo many questions. doesn't he understand the sanctity of good old peace and quiet. christ.

4) Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

this is such a tough question to answer bc they display affection in very quiet ways to me. like adam is probably usually the one initiating, but it's stuff like laying his legs over mark's lap or teasingly punching him in the shoulder or biting at him (if u dont count like. horny neck kissing/sitting in lap/etc bc hes usually a v forward instigator when it comes to sex). stuff like that. hoffman doesnt initiate as often cuz hes very self contained and distracted but when he Does initiate it's a lot more forward. ie gripping adam's hips from behind or skirting his hand against the small of his back when passing by or ruffling his hair

18) How do they care for each other when one of them is wounded/sick?

hoffman likes taking care of adam but he loves pretending to be inconvenienced by it. absolutely is the kind of guy to "be nice" to you while patching you up and instead it just ends up sounding rude and condescending. adam can read between the lines about it. when adam's sick hoffman will do some one off shit like bring him his favorite snack and it always gets him teased. what are you some kind of faggot? adams the kind of person to go full mother hen on someone without realizing it and it's always funny. he definitely scolds hoffman when he has to patch him up and gives him a hard time. when hoffmans sick adam is suddenly making his grandma's chicken noodle soup recipe that he's had memorized since he was 10, sticking a thermometer in his mouth, and demanding that he drink This Much Water Today (as a person who has been poor my entire life. We know how to take care of sick people better than anyone i swear to god.)

26) What sacrifices do they make for the other?

in character terms hoffman sacrifices some of his hard edge and adam sacrifices some of his humanity. adam dulls hoffman down A Little and hoffman sharpens adam A Lot. in general i think id describe some of their sacrifices as like. just learning how to interact with each other. theyve got to adjust how they behave with each other because they both trust Slowly. if that makes any sense at fucking all

#long winded as always my bad.#theflirtmeister #asks

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writernopal · 2 years

Text

Find the Word Tag

Thank you @mariahwritesstuff for the tag, find her post here.

Tagging: @thesyntheticwanderer @autumnalwalker @amywrites256 @florraisons @starliight-whump @kyuukhya (gently) @lynnedwardswrites (gently) and anyone else who wants to join in!

My words (that I have to find): beautiful, love, time, and worry

Your words (that the people I tagged find): threshold, passion, empire, serve

Snippets come from AASOAF 1 ☺️

beautiful

Her head slid to one side and her hood slipped off to reveal her messy hair. I scoffed a small laugh. Every time I had seen her, she was so put together, so seeing her with a tangled nest upon her head instead of the neat bun she usually sported was comical. She was a mess though I supposed that wasn’t her fault. Most humans looked ugly and unkempt in the morning, even beautiful ones like her, rather a fault of her kind. I studied her face next; it was set in a neutral expression, and now that it was, I could appreciate the gentle slope of her nose and how softly rounded it was at the end. It was charming. Most women in The Empire prided themselves on having long slim snouts and thought that human women's faces were squished and ugly since they usually had small noses. But Mariel wore it well, in my opinion.

love

I scoffed. I so boldly claimed I wasn’t in love back there but now I was beginning to doubt myself. Was I? I kept telling myself I wasn’t because it felt so different from what I had with Ophelia. We hadn’t even kissed or held hands and definitely hadn’t done the other thing, so how could I be sure I was in love with her? And even though I knew who she was, I didn’t know her. I knew nothing about her life growing up, whether she had siblings, her fears and joys, her dreams and aspirations, or even the small things like her favorite food, none of it. She was practically a stranger in that aspect. So why, then? Why was I so drawn to her? Why did I try to find her wherever I went? I said that I needed her. Was that a slip of the tongue? Or was there truth in that? And if there was, why was I so adamant that she should be with me? What if we were rotten together? I sighed again. So many questions would they ever be answered? Maybe not.

time

Just some feet away walked that lavender lizard. He was unaccompanied this time but still looked terrifying as he had that day. I watched him walk among the crowd toward the harbor at an even but quick pace—no doubt, he was returning to his cursed vessel. However, as I watched him, I was struck by how he didn’t shove people out of the way or demand space in a rude manner. He simply slipped and slinked among them as a snake might through a pile of leaves effortlessly and efficiently. I suppose I could infer that being among such rabble might be expected for him if his ship came to dock reasonably often. I only hoped that it didn’t come to dock here fairly often.

worry

I rose to my feet and approached my vanity. I should have been trembling or crying and telling myself that I shouldn’t do this, but there was nothing. I was devoid of any sort of rational thought but also of any considerate feeling. I watched as I pulled open the drawer and picked up the small glass bottle. Its occupant buzzed frantically within its prison. I know exactly how you feel but don’t worry; it's almost over. Soon we would both rest in a place where the terror we felt now would seem like nothing more than a distant dream. Perhaps we might look upon it fondly as the time when we were capable of such a feeling.

#aasoaf #my writing #find the word tag #tag game #writeblr tag games #aasoaf snippet #aasoaf 1 #mariel #axtapor

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isabunbun · 2 years

Text

"she looks just like a dream. the prettiest girl i've ever seen." (Bucky Barnes AU Oneshot)

Sumarry: where fate happened inside a café where Y/n works and is given the stage to have a small intro to sing but stops midway as Bucky was "gossiping" with a friend and decides to call him out only to find out something that makes her blush.

Pairings: Chubby!Bucky x F!Singer!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety nothing else. All fluff and hint of comedy.

this one was inspired by a scene from the 90's tv show, 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S'. hope you guys enjoy! please tell me your thoughts after (*´ ˘ `*)

☆☆☆

"And back by popular demand, please give it up for my good friend, Y/F/N!" Natasha hosts the introduction as she hands you the mini stage in the café. People cheering for you as they all grew fond of your angelic singing voice.

You sit down on the chair, guitar in your arms as you smiled at the audience happily getting ready to play for them.

Everything was going well, people smiling, loving and enjoying your entire vibe. It fits just right in the café. The energy you radiate was enchantingly calming along with your voice.

All was well until you notice two men who to you, looks like they were "gossiping" which you take rudely considering someone, you, is on stage playing for the audience.

You wanted to leave them be but it also looked like they were talking about you and your anxiety just couldn't handle it.

Stopping mid song, you couldn't take it anymore as you speak up.

"Uh, excuse me?" You look at the two men straight as everyone looked at them too. Them looking at you now, flustered by everyone looking at them.

"Yeah, you two, noisy boys" You point them out as they looked lost and confused if they were the ones the attention is on.

"Is it something that you would like to share to the entire group?"

The two looked embarrassed. A blonde guy, Steve, answering your question.

"No.. No, that's- that's okay" Steve smiles awkwardly embarrassed to be called out.

"Well, come on. If it's important enough to discuss it while i'm playing then i assume it's important enough for everyone else to hear" You say back to him. You weren't mad at all, you were calmly calling them out since what they did was rude.

"That guy's going home with a note" Clint, your co-worker at the café says. Natasha, chuckling back at his remark.

Bucky was now sweating, he clears his throat out as everyone awaits for his excuse.

"I-I was just saying-"

"Could you speak up please?" you cut him off speaking from the mic more closely as his voice was barely audible to everyone, you also growing impatient with their act.

He stands up quickly, stumbling a bit as the table got hit by him standing up, as he fixes his blue sweater pulling it down that seemed to ride up his tummy, stuttering once again.

"I-i was just saying to my friend that i thought you were the most beautiful girl i've ever seen in my- in my uh, life..." Bucky explains, pointing out to Steve.

You sure were taken aback, not expecting his excuse. You now definitely felt bad for calling them out. Your expression changing from stern to your usual soft look, but more the look of feeling bad and realization.

He was right to be honest, your looks are another reason why you have fans in town. And how you looked the day he met you? No one could blame him for gossiping to Steve midst your play. You were wearing this white dress and had half your hair tied up. You were real pretty.

"And then, y-you said," Bucky explains further as he points and looks back at Steve again, "I-i said.." Steve says also backing him up.

"That y-you thought that Daryl Hannah was the-" , "The most beautiful girl that i've ever seen.." Steve completing Bucky's sentence out.

"And uh, while Daryl Hannah is beautiful in a- in a conventional way.. you are luminous and beautiful with uh, a kind o-of delicate grace.." Bucky confessed out. Some people somewhat giggling and cheering a bit.

"Yikes" Sam, another one of your co-worker, "loudly" comments. Cringing at the guy. Which made Bucky even more red and embarrassed.

Your mouth hung open a little the entire time, your soft look on your face shown the entire time as you nod at him slowly in understanding.

"T-then uh, that's where you started yelling." he adds lastly as he slowly sits back to his chair.

You try to bite a smile back at his last words, the two men hesitantly and awkwardly sitting together.

"Okay, we're gonna take a short break" you say to the mic as you giggle, and start to walk down the stage towards their table.

"I think that guy's going home with more than a note" Natasha chuckles out to Clint, both of them laughing out.

Up until today they still laugh about the memory of how your meeting went the first time, that led you now to a loving healthy relationship.

And Bucky stood by his words, only finding out that you were as beautiful inside as you are outside.

-end

hope you guys enjoyed that! please tell me your thoughts, comments, questions, anything! my ask box is always open. requests for characters are also open. Thank You for reading! ♡

Tags

@maluisamarvelfan123

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

@my-river-lilly

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tricksters-captain · 3 years

Text

Helmut Zemo (TFATWS) imagines - Craving

AN: Okay I’ve given in and become a Zemo simp but Bucky is still my number one don't worry.

Summary: After playing the part as Zemo's arm candy in Madripoor, Zemo tries to confront you on your unspoken connection, only to be rudely interrupted...

Pairing(s): Zemo x Fem!Reader, very slight Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,326

Warnings: Some small spoilers for Ep3, lots of sexual tension

“I still can’t believe I agreed to do this.” You grumbled as you climbed the stairs, falling behind at the fear the men could see straight up the skirt of the dress Zemo had chosen for you.

“I, for one, think you have the easiest job of us all. James must be someone he detests, Sam must be a notorious criminal he doesn’t know and you must sit and look pretty.” Zemo spoke under his breath as you came to the entrance of Selby’s HQ.

You glared at the man but he didn’t care. He was too busy worrying about Selby.

The door was opened for you by one of Selby’s men. Zemo nodded curtly at the guard before entering.

You went ahead of Bucky and Sam to stay close to Zemo, following your role as his current inamorata.

It was a short walk into Selby’s office but with every step you could feel the fear rising in your chest. You weren’t convinced that you’d get away with this; Sam wasn't exactly the most kosher criminal and Zemo’s story didn’t quite add up on just how he managed to have the Winter Soldier in his mitts again.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Selby spoke as she came into view. She was an expensively dressed woman with a short white pixie cut.

Zemo sat down opposite her but you remained next to Sam.

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo waved his finger as he spoke. It was a small yet dominant motion directed towards you. You tried not to clench your jaw as you walked towards him.

“A lot has changed since you were here last.” Selby’s eyes followed your every move as you made your way over to Zemo. “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo held out his hand to you, guiding you to stand behind him. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” Selby cocked her head towards Sam.

Sam’s only response was a quick nod of his head. Selby purred at Sam, a wolfish smile on her face.

“What’s the offer?” Selby turned back to Zemo. Her eyes flickered up to you before landing back on Zemo’s face. You weren’t stupid you knew what her gaze meant.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” Zemo pushed himself out of his chair. You watched him cross behind Bucky, placing his hands on Bucky's shoulders. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”

Selby grinned widely as Zemo wobbled Bucky’s chin with his forefinger and thumb, showing just how under control the ‘Winter Soldier’ was.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately.” Selby seemed to be convinced. “Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right.”

Zemo returned to his seat before Selby continued.

“The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or... condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but... things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” Selby rose from her chair, finding a place beside Sam as she very openly let her eyes roll down your body now that you were in her full view.

“What else do you desire?” Zemo questioned. He had clocked onto Selby’s behaviour and didn’t really need to ask to know what the answer was going to be.

“Her.” Selby pointed you out. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek as she awaited Zemo’s response.

“No, no, no.” Zemo tutted, holding out his hand for you to take. “This little bird only sings for me.” Zemo guided you round the side of his chair and pulled you gently onto his lap. You crossed your legs as you tried not to seem uncomfortable. The scent of the Baron’s cologne, mixed with his strong grip on your waist was making your heart race. You had never been this close to Zemo before and now you were sat on his knee with his arm around you.

“Well, you’ll make her sing for me or you won’t be getting what you want now, Baron, will ya?” Selby wasn’t playing games. She folded her arms across her chest, cocking her eyebrows at Zemo.

Zemo titled his head as he thought.

You felt yourself tense up when he placed a cool leather clad hand on your thigh. His fingers started to draw circles on your skin, edging your skirt higher, drawing Selby’s eyes down to your legs.

“She is very dear to me.” Zemo stated. He retracted his hand from your thigh to brush your hair from your shoulder, his finger traced a line from your jaw down your neck to your collarbone. Zemo, being so close, could see the goosebumps that covered your skin at his touch.

“Unless you have something better to offer other than your two play things, Baron, I suggest you hand them over to me... unless you don’t want the whereabouts of Dr Nagel.” Selby let her smile drop.

“I will––” Zemo was cut short by Sam’s phone going off.

“Answer it.” Selby suddenly lost all interest in the deal and only desired to prove the authenticity of the Smiling Tiger. “On speaker.”

That’s where things went wrong.

For the rest of the trip in Madripoor, you didn’t get the time to confront yourself and Zemo on what happened back there.

You were so confused to why you reacted the way you did. You had never been attracted to Zemo before but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he smelt, the way his breath tickled against your arm, the way the heat radiated out from under his thick coat.

You knew he was thinking about it too.

Every time you let yourself glance over at him, he was watching you and not in the same way as he usually would. You knew too well that Zemo often studied his surroundings like a hawk. He was silent and observant; he always knew where he would go next and he often watched you, Sam and Bucky as if he were calculating your next moves.

It wasn’t until you arrived in Latvia that you were confronted by your feelings again.

You were sat at the island in the kitchen as you ran your hands over your face and hair. You were tired.

“You should rest.” Zemo’s voice suddenly snuck up on you.

He had been so quiet walking into the kitchen that you hadn't even noticed he was there.

“I should but insomnia kinda comes with the job.” You sat up, trying not to act any different from how you usually would.

“Ah. My time in a cell has acquainted me with such the dilemma.” Zemo confessed as he moved towards the cupboards on the back wall.

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t help but watch his hands as they reached for the coffee pot, his fingers gripping it lightly. You could still recall the feeling of the cool leather on your thigh, his touch climbing higher as he pushed your skirt up...

“Coffee?” Zemo offered, interrupting your thoughts as he raised a mug and an eyebrow at you.

“Please.” You folded your hands together as you leant on the island.

There was a brief comfortable silence as Zemo fixed up some coffee for you both. He could feel your eyes on him but he didn’t say anything. He just let the corner of his lips tugged into a smirk as he poured you a cup. He let the smirk drop when he turned to face you.

He slid the cup along the countertop and you thanked him quietly. He pushed a thin smile onto his face for a second before returning to his usual stoic expression.

“There was something I wished to discuss with you actually.” Zemo announced as he picked up his own cup.

You almost choked on your drink at the words but you hid behind your mug, hoping he didn’t notice. He did.

“About what?” You asked.

“I wanted to apologise for Madripoor.” Zemo surprised you with that.

“Apologise?” You were confused to what he was talking about.

“I am aware that it was merely a role, that we were undercover, but I touched you without your consent. I wanted to apologise for when we were with Selby.”

You were completely shocked. You didn’t not expect this from Zemo at all.

“It’s okay. We all have to do stuff we don't want to do on missions like these.” You tried to brush it off. After all, Bucky had to become the Winter Soldier and Sam had to drink a cobra’s heart back in Madripoor. There was definitely worse things that could’ve happened.

“I never said I didn’t want to do it. I am simply apologising for not asking for permission first.” Zemo’s eyes were glued to your face as he sipped his coffee. He was watching for a reaction.

You felt your mouth go dry, you tried to swallow as you began to rise from your seat.

“Uh, t-thanks for the coffee, Zemo but...” You tried grabbing your mug but you only knocked it to the floor by accident.

“Shit!” You hissed as you bent down, picking up the broken bits. You felt your heart racing from the look Zemo had just given you.

Zemo rushed around the island with a rag, he placed it over the split coffee before taking hold of your wrist to stop you from picking up the pieces.

Electricity shot up your arm and your head snapped up to meet his eyes.

“No use crying over spilt coffee.” Zemo muttered, a smile tugging on one corner of his mouth.

“I-I wasn’t––”

“––Is there a particular reason you are so jumpy tonight?” Zemo inquired.

You rose back to standing; Zemo let your wrist go as you did but followed your action.

The air was thick between you as you withheld your answer.

There was no way you could admit you were worried of being close to him because of the undeniable pull he had on you since that night.

“I think...” Zemo stepped over the soaked rag which only made you take a step back. “...You enjoyed being touched and now you are confused to why.”

Your chest began to rise and fall heavily as Zemo continued to walk towards you until your back hit the wall behind you.

“But forgive me if I am wrong.” Zemo held his hands up with a smile, taking his final few steps until he was close enough for his cologne to engulf the air around you.

“You are.” You whispered but your voice had failed you in sounding convincing.

“Is that right, little bird?” Zemo used the pet name he had given you in Selby's office. He lifted his hand to brush your hair from your cheek behind your ear. “Because I believe you haven’t stop thinking about it. Just as I haven't.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You only just breathed out your words. If Zemo hadn’t been so close, he wouldn’t have heard them.

“Don’t you?” Zemo titled his head at you. “Because I am at liberty to remind you that I once worked for Sokivian intelligence. It was my job for a long time to study people, learn them, read them.” Zemo let his eyes drop down to your body before coming back to meet your eyes. “I can tell how a person is feeling just from observing their body. The way they move. The way they are breathing.” Zemo placed his hand in the centre of your chest where your silver necklace sat. The metal burned against your skin underneath Zemo’s warm flesh.

Your slow deep breaths lifted Zemo’s hand up and down as you stared back at him.

“I can feel your heart racing.” Zemo uttered. “Are you afraid?”

“No.” You shook your head as your eyes flickered to the man’s lip for just a second.

“Good.” Zemo smirked.

Suddenly Zemo was ripped away from you.

Bucky had teared Zemo back and pushed him across the room. Zemo staggered backwards before standing and adjusting his sweater from how Bucky had grabbed him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bucky growled at Zemo with a look in his eye that could kill.

“I was merely having a conversation with (Y/n).” Zemo shrugged, acting as if everything was perfectly innocent.

“Oh yeah it looked like a real polite conversation with (Y/n) backed up in a corner and your hands on her!” Sam was stood behind Bucky. The both of them were squaring up in front of Zemo to protect you.

“I didn’t need your help.” You stepped forward, trying to intervene.

“You put your hands on her again; I won’t stop myself next time. I’ll turn you into a new coat.” Bucky warned Zemo as he ignored you.

“I apologise.” Zemo lifted his hands up in defence.

“No.” Sam pointed back to you. “Apologise to her.”

Zemo turned his head to you. When your eyes met, he smirked just ever so slightly, you knew the boys didn’t notice at least.

“I apologise, (Y/n).” The way your name sounded in Zemo’s mouth made your stomach flip.

“It’s fine.” You said before pushing past Bucky and Sam. You hated it when they played protective big brothers and you didn’t even need saving... You think...

(PART 2)

#baron zemo #Helmut Zemo #Zemo #Zemo x reader #zemo imagines #Helmut zemo x reader #Helmut Zemo imagines #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier imagines #daniel brühl #Daniel bruhl imagines #Daniel bruhl x reader #Bucky barnes #Sam Wilson #imagines

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megumisbimbo · 3 years

Text

Please No More

gojo satoru x fem!reader

pushy gojo senpai

this contains DARK CONTENT minors do not interact please !

warnings: noncon, coercion, senpai kink, corruption, unprotected sex

taglist: @txzierbaby @mitsuluv @izukine @rintarouss @tobios-housewife @innrsoul @fiaficsxo @xenihime @kirsteiiins

Class was over, and you were finally able to pack up all your things and head home. The leftovers from last night’s dinner sitting in the fridge waiting for you to come home and indulge in it. Your thoughts, consumed by the homework you had to do tonight and the daily chores that needed to get done was rudely interrupted by the shrill voice of your senpai.

“Y/n-chan! You look absolutely breathtaking today.” Gojo said, a smile laced with ulterior motive decorating his blindfolded face.

“Thank you Gojo-senpai, I can’t talk right now so I’m just gonna get goin-“

“Not so fast pretty girl. What’s the rush? I know for a fact you don’t have practice, or after school club today.”

You give him a puzzled look. How on earth would he know when your practices and club meetings were? And why on earth was he holding your arm so tightly?

“Um..Gojo-senpai..could you um..please let go of my arm?”

“And why would I want to do that?” He responds, the grip on your arm tightening to an almost painful point. His blindfold was lifted by a single nimble finger, his piercing blue eyes exposed to the golden sun. They were gorgeous, absolutely enthralling, but you knew better, you knew what he was trying to do and you’d be damned if you were to be known as Gojo’s latest conquest.

“I really should be going I have-“

“Y/n-chan, come here.” He says, his voice quiet yet demanding.

You obey, the fear of what he would do if you were to ignore him taking over the part of your brain that was earnestly telling you to run away.

“Pretty girl, you know I like you right? I’ve made it pretty damn obvious.” He whispers, his chest pressed up against your back, his lips lightly grazing over the shell of your ear.

“You like me back don’t you? With the amount of eye contact and sexual tension we’ve built up, I wouldn’t believe you if you said you didn’t have feelings for me. You’re just too damn obvious baby.”

Obvious? The glares and eye rolls were an obvious show of affection? In what fucking universe?

“Gojo-senpai, I don’t know what gave you the idea that I had feelings for you, and honestly, I don’t care if you believe me or not. But would you please just leave me alone?”

“Leave you alone? No can do baby...you’re just too fucking sexy in your tiny little skirts and v-neck shirts. What I would give to be able to stuff my fat cock in the tight little cunt of yours. As a matter of fact..I think I will.”

Before you could even process what he said or what was happening, you were dragged down the hall and pressed against the door of the storage closet. His lips attach to your neck at a lighting speed, his hands roaming your waist and lightly fondling the plush of your breast.

“God baby...you feel so good pressed against me.”

You were frozen. Half in shock and half in disgust. How dare he place his hands on you, and how dare he make you feel so damn good.

Your hands search for the back of his head, fingers burying themselves in his white locks. You didn’t like the way he made you feel, you didn’t like the way he claimed your body as if it was his to begin with. And you definitely didn’t like how much you enjoyed it.

“Gojo-senpai...please...please stop.” You plead.

“Shhh baby it’s ok just let me take care of you. Let me make you feel good.”

All that leaves your mouth is a pathetic whimper, as Gojo’s hand leaves your waist and turns the handle of the supply closet you were leaning against. He pushes you in, your hands clinging to his bicep in hopes of not falling flat on your ass. His bittersweet lips press to yours. He nips and sucks at your lips, moans spilling from his mouth and echoing through the tiny room. His hand slowly trails down your waist to your thigh squeezing the flesh, eliciting a moan from your fear filled body. First your mind betrays you, now your body? How much more of Gojo’s ministrations could you take? The hand that was once on your thigh was now pushing up the thin fabric of your skirt. His thumb moving in slow circles as he teases you. Your hips involuntary press against him, craving more friction.

“You like that pretty girl? You want this fat cock to split you open?”

“No-no I don’t want it Gojo-senpai please.”

“Your mouth is saying one thing but your body baby...you wanna fuck me so bad don’t you?”

“Please-”

“Thought so.”

His belt falls to the floor with a muffled crash, his button and zipper undone in a matter of seconds. The fabric of your panties was now sitting around your ankles. Gojo’s fingers pumping in and out at a painfully slow pace.

“Gojo-senpai please...I need it bad.”

“Yeah baby I know, but I gotta prep you first. I’ll give it to you right now as long as you behave for me ok. You gonna be a good girl for me?”

“...yes senpai...”

His hardened cock is released from the painful restraint of his black boxers. He lines himself up with your entrance, running his tip up and down your slit gathering your juices. He pushes himself into you, his large cock practically splitting you open.

“Ahhh Gojo-senpai...it hurts...you’re so big-fuck.”

“Yeah baby take my cock like a good girl. Who’s my good girl? Hm?”

“Please Senpai...it hurts-.”

“Are you a virgin my pretty baby?”

Your voice catches in the back of your throat. You want to scream, to cry. You beg the universe to send to someone, someone who would save you from this nightmare.

“I asked you a question pretty.” He says grabbing your jaw, forcing you to stare into his six eyes.

“Answer me.”

“....yes...senpai-ahhh.”

“That’s my good baby. So fucking tight. Gonna claim this pussy as my own-fuck you’re milking my cock so well baby girl.”

You had given up, and given in. His powerful countenance and demanding grip persuading you to fall deep under his spell. His hands slide up and down your body, one clutching onto your tit as the other trails down to massage your neglected clit. You fall apart in his arms your moans getting louder and louder by the minute.

“Shhhh baby girl, don’t want anyone to hear us do we?”

“No...senpai-ahhh...’m coming please nghhh.”

“Come for me pretty girl, come all over my cock.”

Shivers run through your body as your coil snaps for the first time. Your knees give out, your hands gripping tightly onto Gojo’s forearms. Your heart races as Gojo holds you up placing sugar coated kisses across your face.

“That’s my good girl. Can you finish me off baby?”

He guides your hand to his cock as he slowly helps you pump back and forth, your release lubricating your palm.

“Yeah just like that baby-fuck.”

A few more strokes and Gojo’s release paints your hand and stomach. He swipes two of his long fingers across your stomach, gathering his cum and presses them against your lips. Reluctantly you open your mouth, his slick covered fingers pressing down on your tongue. Your tongue surrounds his digits as your hand clasps around his wrist. Gojo’s eyes are shaded with lust as he stares down at you.

“Such a pretty baby...and she’s all mine.”

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nocoffeeorbreakfast · 3 years

Text

TW: Nanami is a whole problem 🥴, CHOKING, FACE FUCKING, CURSING, HAIR PULLING, HARD DOM NANAMI, NAME-CALLING... LISTEN IT'S A RIDE, OKAY?!!

Summary: You're stuck working overtime with Kento Nanami. He's not happy about it and neither are you, but a slip up changes everything.

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

Working overtime

We’ll be working late to finalize the last case Gojo worked, because of course he didn’t do his paperwork. You should cancel any plans you have, and order dinner. I don’t want to be here all-night working overtime.

I sit staring at the email from the cranky, no nonsense, short tempered, stick up his butt, Kento Nanami. Not a single request to be read, just demands. Rude. Why do I have to stay with him?

It’s Gojo’s paperwork, why doesn’t he stay? I know the answer to that as soon as it enters my brain. Gojo does not do paperwork, and he’s so powerful no one is going to say anything to him. Ugh, but at least Gojo is fun.

Thinks back to a very fun night after a particularly wild holiday staff party. It was before Nanami had came back to work at the school. Gojo had offered body shots off his chiseled chest and abs, and I was too drunk to say no. I woke up the next morning naked in his bed. I grabbed my clothes and ran out before he could wake up. He sleeps with so many people I don’t think he noticed or cared when I wasn’t there. Neither of us chose to bring it up ever again and that worked out just fine for me.

Nanami would never. Can’t imagine that man ever smiling, most definitely not having fun. He doesn’t talk to anyone more than he has to, but sometimes he gets stuck with me because while I can’t actually see or kill curses, my technique allows me to sense their energies, scents, and any other traces. So, my paperwork for cases are very detailed and helpful for unsolved cases. I order dinner to be delivered later, and against my better judgement, I order some for him too. Past experiences tell me that he won’t eat, which means he’ll be even crankier.

I’m working along when I feel eyes watching me. I look up and Nanami is leaning against my door frame. He already looks tired of literally everything.

Did you see my email?

This is a waste. He is religious about ‘read receipts’ on his emails, so not sure why we must have this conversation, but I know it’s not worth the fight. Without looking up from my work, I answer him.

“Yeah, I did. I’ll be here, and we shouldn’t have to stay too late. I also ordered two dinners in case you want one.”

Great. Good girl.

I’m sorry what?! My brain short circuits for a split second. I look up, but he’s gone. I can hear him walking down the hall. What did he just say? What was that? I must be tripping. He probably meant nothing. I probably heard wrong anyway.

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

5pm finally arrives. I grab the dinners and head to his office. I know he was out working a case most of the afternoon, but I’m pretty sure I heard him come back. I walk in his office and stop short .His tie is loose, his suit jacket is off, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His blonde hair was slightly disheveled. I have never seen him so casual. It’s jarring. He looks much better this way. What?! That’s a very unsettling thought.

Are you just going to stand there, or do you plan to come do some work?

I shake out of my daze. Didn’t realize I was sitting there staring at him. I walk towards him and hand him his dinner. He actually takes it and opens it; and starts to eat. Well, that’s a small win for me. He actually took it and didn’t say anything about it. I’m still surprised by how he looks.

“Rough day in the field?”

He looks up at me for a split second, lips pursed for a question, before going back to his computer.

Yes. Gojo is training that Itadori kid, and that makes him even more distracted so it makes my job harder when he calls me for help. Anyways, let's get to work. Take a look at this file.

He moves to the side so I can see the computer. I read over the file for a few minutes. Make notes of a few things.

”Can we go to the site? I really need to feel the room.”

He sighs audibly, but he grabs his jacket and keys and walks out the room. I grab my notepad and pen and scramble after him. I guess that’s a yes? Geez would it kill him to be a little more friendly? We walk out to his car, he surprises me by opening the door for me. I mumble out a ‘Thank you’ and climb in. He gets in the driver’s side and starts the car. He just stares at me for a bit, like he’s waiting for something. I’m wondering why we aren’t pulling off.

“Did I forget something?”

He angrily reaches over and grabs my seatbelt, then fastens it for me. He brushes across my chest and I catch a whiff of his cologne. I straighten up in a panic the moment he touches me.

“What the hell, Nanami?!” I screech.

He mumbles under his breath, Why wouldn’t you put your seatbelt on as soon as you get in the car?

He drives away and I am completely rattled. He fastened my seatbelt like I was a child. But also, why does he smell so good? Good lord. We get to the site, and begin looking around. I take notes of different things. I’m completely zoned out and in my own world, scribbling different notes. I turn around to ask him a question, but he is right in front of me with his cursed weapon out. He slams the wall right behind me. I jump and drop everything in my hands.

“What the fuck?! SHIT!”

I look up at him completely rattled. He is inches from my face.

You shouldn’t use that kind of language; it doesn’t fit your mouth. Did you not feel that curse behind you?

“What curse Nanami?! Don’t do that fucking shit! Say something next time, I can just move. Jesus!!”

He puts his weapon back in it’s holder, mumbling under his breath about how curses masking their energies could pose a bigger problem. I finally feel the remnants of the curse I assumed he just exorcised behind me. I glance in the spot his weapon just was.

“It didn’t hide it’s energy, I just wasn’t paying any fucking attention, but shit, you could have just told me to move. You didn’t have to attack me and give me a fucking heart attack.”

That language really doesn’t fit your mouth…

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

He comes back to stand over me and grabs my face.

I said don’t use that type of language. It doesn’t fit that pretty mouth of yours.

“…. What?!”

It’s barely a whisper because that statement knocks the wind out of me. My brain scrambles to process what is happening. Nanami is standing over me, holding my face, talking about my mouth is pretty? What? Before I can come up with any kind of answer he lets go of my face and puts some distance between us.

That language does not become you. I apologize for not warning you first, but I just saw the curse behind you and acted before I realized what I was doing.

He backs away from me and pulls out his phone. He runs his hand through his hair absentmindedly.

Do you have all you need for your report? I would like to get back to school before it gets too late.

I stand there, staring into his back, trying to form words and process what just happened. I can still feel his hand gripping my face and his cologne still tickles my nose. My feet are moving before I realize I’m walking. I grab his arm and try with all might to swing him around to face me.

“Nanami… don’t act like that was normal.”

It wasn’t normal, so I apologized. Next time I will try to remember to say something instead of just swinging my weapon at you.

He doesn’t even bother to barely look at me. He pulls away and begins to walk away. My blood starts to boil. He’s treating me like I’m stupid. Like if he doesn’t acknowledge it then it didn’t happen? Like he didn’t just do what the fuck he just did?! What am I, a fucking child? I step in front of him, blocking his path.

“What the fuck, Nanami?! I am not talking about the damn weapon although you should have just said something, but what about what you said and did? Are going to fucking explain that shit? Stop treating me like a child you can just ignore. What the fuck was that?!”

He closes his eyes, and mumbles “I tried” under his breath. His hand shoots out quickly and grabs my throat. I instantly realize how much shorter than him I am when he pulls me up on my tip toes and leans down to my ear.

I tried to get you to ignore my awful behavior, I even apologized, but you continue to use foul language that distorts that pretty mouth of yours. Yes, I said you had a pretty mouth, a mouth that would be much more useful wrapped around my dick instead of spouting obscenities just for the sake of being bratty.

He pushes me down so I’m not on my tiptoes anymore, and pushes me against the wall behind me. His other hand slams against the wall just beside my head. He squeezes my throat tighter while caressing the bottom of my jawline with his finger. He leans in even closer to my ear, his jawline pressed against my cheek, and his lips just barely grazing my ear.

You seem to prefer this reaction to the apology. Your heartbeat quickened the first time I grabbed your face. Your breath slowed when I said you had a pretty mouth. Then you continued to curse even after I told you not to. I’ve heard you say more obscenities than I’ve ever heard you speak sentences, so I’m convinced that was on purpose. Well since you want this version of me, I’ll be more than happy to deliver. It’s already been a very long day. I will bury my dick in you and fill you up with my frustrations. Is that what you want? Is that how you want this to go?

His grip loosens slightly on my throat, and he pulls away to where he can see my face. Clearly waiting for an answer. My brain is screaming at me, asking so many questions, processing, but there is a part of me that is screaming even louder. He’s so close I can smell him again. His lips just barely within in reach, his eyes intense, and God his voice in my ear and his hand on my throat have me dripping. I look him in his eyes and nod my head. His hand moves from my throat and grabs my hair. His fingers work their way into my curls and grab a handful. He tilts my head and begins licking and sucking on my neck. My gasp is so sharp he might as well still be choking me. His other hand is all over me, groping me, grabbing me. Were his hands always this big? He grips my ass so hard my knees buckle. Seems that’s what he was waiting for, because as soon as they do he pushes me down to my knees. The cold floor is no match for the heat coming from between my legs. He loosens his tie, and I realize that even though this is my first time seeing this sight, it’s one I will never tire of. He kneels down so that he’s eye to eye with me. His hand is gripping my hair so I have no choice but to look him in his eyes.

I really want to put this tie around this pretty neck of yours, but I think you will have a hard enough time breathing without it. That is the only bit of mercy I will provide. Understood?

I nod my head slowly.

Answer me. Don’t get quiet now. That mouth was working overtime just a few moments ago, so I know you can speak.

“Yes sir.”

He raises an eyebrow at my response and is that a smirk?! I don’t know where that answer came from but it felt like the only possible choice.

Keep that energy…

He stands back up and unbuckles his pants. He reaches in his black boxer briefs and pulls out his dick. I stare in fascination. Will I be able to fit all that in my mouth?! It’s so thick. He was not joking about not breathing. I glance up at him, questioning the literal task in front of me. There’s definitely a smirk just before he grabs my hair and pushes his way to the back of my throat. My eyes immediately tear up at the intrusion, and my hands come up to his stomach.

No hands…

His tone makes my hands instantly drop. He slides his other hand in my hair and begins working in and out of my mouth. Each thrust further back into my throat. A whimper escapes my mouth just as I start to gag. My hands come up again on reflex. He pulls out of my mouth so fast; I’m left gasping for air. A string of drool following his dick. He yanks me to my feet and turns me around. He grabs my arms and pulls them behind my back. I feel what I assume is his tie being wrapped around my wrists. He pulls it tight. He presses his body against mine and I grind my ass into that third leg of his. He grabs my hair and yanks my head back. He licks up my neck until he gets to my ear.

Relax your throat and breathe through your nose.

He turns me around and drops me to my knees before I can respond. He grabs both sides of my head and slides back in. He works to the back of my throat and sits there. I look up at him in a panic. He gives me a knowing look. I take a deep breath, relax and my throat opens up. I inhale through my nose and give in to him.

Good girl…

God, that statement and his tone has an effect on me. He finally pulls out and starts fucking my face with intensity. Wet sounds, grunts and moans echo through the room. Tears stream down my face. Every time I think I can’t handle anymore, he pulls out just enough so I can get a small breath. I look up at him expecting to see his eyes closed, but they’re staring into mine. Almost non blinking as he grunts into me. I squeeze my thighs together, hoping my jeans will give some kind of relief to my leaking hole. Suddenly, I feel his shoe press against my crotch. I try to look down, but grips my hair tighter.

Keep your eyes on me…

He works in and out of my mouth while grinding his foot harder into me. I’m humping his foot like a bitch in heat, desperate for any kind of relief. I’m whimpering, and my vision is blurred from the tears, but I never take my eyes off of him. He yanks out of my mouth and stops grinding my crotch in one movement. I should be embarrassed by the audible whine that leaves my mouth, but I’m too far gone to care. He yanks me to my feet, unfastens my pants, yanks them down, and turns me around in what feels like one move. He bends me over a table that I have no recollection of existing, and presses my face against the cold, smooth surface. I feel him behind me, and momentarily panic as I think once again if I’ll be able to fit all of him inside of me. Just as I’m about to say something I feel his tongue lick me slowly from my clit to my anus. Good lord, his tongue is wide. Felt like he cupped my whole pussy in it. I’m thankful for the table, because that one lick would have had me on the floor. His tongue is working in and out of my ass, gripping my cheeks. I’m convinced Nanami is an ass man at this point, if nothing else, from the hums that rattle in his throat. He slides two fingers in my dripping pussy, and once again I wonder if his hands were always this big. The wetter I get, the faster he goes. His fingers and tongue working in tandem to my demise. I’m moving and grinding, chasing the orgasm that is right there, so close I can taste it. He turns his fingers over and slides a third finger in, stretching me even wider. The moment I feel his fingers drum on my spot I lose all control. I come screaming into the table and dousing his hand. He grabs his tie around my wrists like reins and stands up.

That should help…

“Should help what?! What do you…”

His dick pushes in me before I can finish the sentence. God, I thought I was full before. There was no comparison to this feeling. I’ve never been so full in my life. He grips the tie tighter and bucks into me with ferocity. He works in and out of me, and because of this table I can’t go anywhere. Every time he strokes, my hips hit the table and ricochet back onto him, which sends me into the table again. It’s a very vicious cycle.

I’ve often wondered how that ass would look bent over my dick. Take all of it. Don’t you dare fucking run. Not that you have a choice. Such a mouthy little bitch. Where are all those obscenities now that my dick is rubbing against your walls? What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?

“Fuck, shit, god damn, Nanami… please!” I whine out with my eyes squeezed shut.

Ah there she is. I knew I hadn’t broken you yet. Don’t worry I will.

I can hear the smile in voice and I know he means it. One hand leaves the tie and squeezes the back of my neck, pressing me deeper into the table. His other hand grips the tie tighter.

Hold on slut, this will get rough.

“HOLD ONTO WHAT?!”

He slams into me so hard my legs give out, but of course I go nowhere. This has to be the world’s strongest table. Slapping and wet sounds are drowned out by my screaming. Over and over he slams into me, my eyes rolling into the back of my head and I think this is how I die… I’m going to pass out on his dick and die here. I can feel my juices leaking out of me, sliding down my legs. My clit is constantly rubbing against the puddle beneath me, sending me into even more of a frenzy. I come howling and whining a sound that can’t be human, gripping his dick, milking him as my orgasm pours out of me. I feel him slide out my hole just after I hit my peak. His hot come shoots all over back. When did he push my shirt up? He paints me in his come and I know I’ll need a new shirt regardless. His grip loosens on my neck and wrists. I attempt to get up.

Stay there.

He unties my wrists and my arms fall to my sides. He pulls out a handkerchief and wipes my back as clean as he can. He leans down and attempts to lick me clean, but it’s a useless feat. Finally, I feel the handkerchief wipe between my legs. He stands me up, drapes his jacket over my shoulders, and turns me around to face him. I lean into him, trying to get my bearings, wishing my legs would stop shaking.

I don’t know your birth control methods, so I’ll have to buy you a new shirt since I ruined this one in my hastiness. Forgive me. Let’s get you to a shower.

“I’m on the pill” I answer offhandedly. He raises an eyebrow at me. God that eyebrow is going to be the death of me.

“I don’t stay around here and my keys are back at the school.”

You’re coming to my place. I’m not done with you yet.

“But the report..”

We’ll finish it tomorrow. I’ve worked enough overtime for today.

I most definitely can’t argue with him there. He places a firm hand on the small of my back and leads me out the door. When we walk into his place he asks me if it’s ok if my hair gets wet or if I need a shower cap. I tell him it can get wet, probably needs it after our session. He puts me in a hot shower and slow fucks me into delirium. Holding me on his shoulders and licking me like a starved man. He takes me to his bedroom and dries me off. My body feels rejuvenated, and I'm ready for sleep.

Oh I’m not done with you yet. I just needed to work your body back up to go again. Now, on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours.

Then he spends the rest of the night filling me with all his frustrations from the day just like he said.

#jjk nanami #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami kento #choking #i warned you

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ravennm84 · 3 years

Text

Doctor’s Note

We all know how Lila fakes having different diseases and medical problems, but what would happen if she actually got sick and her mother went to the school to drop off a doctor’s note and pick up Lila’s assignments? Want the answer? Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!

Greta Rossi could admit that she was a bit of a workaholic. Being the secretary to the assistant ambassador of Italy, in a city that was constantly under attack by a magical terrorist, was not the easiest job in the world either. It took a lot of early mornings, late nights, and even some weekends to make sure everything was prepared for her boss. But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t drop everything for her one and only daughter when she needed her.

Right now, for example, Lila was trapped in bed with a nasty case of strep throat. The poor girl had a fever, white pustules at the back of her throat, and could hardly stop coughing. It was only due to some very strong medicine that she was able to stop coughing long enough to pass out from exhaustion.

She had contacted her work to let them know she would be taking the week off, and the ambassador had been very understanding. Stressing that he knew how dedicated she was to her work and that it was good for her to take time off for her family. It was only after Lila was sound asleep that she made the phone call to her school, she wanted to make sure they knew why Lila was staying home and that she would be in later that afternoon to pick up her daughter’s assignments for the next week.

The principal, M. Damocles was his name, seemed very happy to have spoken to her and said that he would have her assignments waiting when she came to pick them up. Also, if she could bring the doctors’ notes with her, that would be very much appreciated.

Checking again that Lila was sound asleep, she left a note on her daughter’s bedside table that she was running some errands, would be home soon, and to text her if she needed anything.

Arriving at the school, she was surprised to see everything running so smoothly and that the reconstruction after the two month akuma attack had been gone so well. She was impressed that she couldn’t even tell the difference between the old and new parts of the building. But then, she wasn’t overly skilled with architecture or building construction, so that wasn’t a surprise to her.

A few knocks on the door and she entered M. Damocles office. She had only met the man a couple times, but he had seemed like a decent person. It was a shame that he had been akumatized for so long and she was curious about what had happened to cause him to be akumatized, but she wasn’t sure if it was proper to ask him.

“Mme. Rossi, good to see you. I understand that Lila has fallen ill?” He asked, spinning around to grab a blue folder behind his desk.

“Yes, the poor dear has strep throat and has been coughing nonstop for days.” Greta told him as she pulled the doctor’s note from her purse. “Here’s the note you requested, do you have her homework packet?”

Damocles looked over the note for a moment before nodding and looking at her expectantly. “Thank you, do you have her other doctor’s notes?”

Greta tilted her head in confusion. “Does she need more than one? It’s just strep throat, she should be back to school after next week.”

“No madam, this is all I need for her current leave from school. I was referring to the doctor’s notes for her tinnitus, arthritis, sprained wrist, and her lying disease. That last one especially, and any information you can give me on accommodating that one so we do not have a repeat of the incident last month.”

Nothing in the world could have kept her jaw from dropping. What he had just told her? “M. Damocles, everything you just said is completely false. Lila has no such ailments, and I don’t think there is such a thing as a lying disease, unless you are referring to pathological lying.”

The man blinked back at her a few times before raising one hand to rub his brow. “Oh my, Mme. Rossi, I believe you and I must have a long discussion about the things your daughter has been saying and doing since she started school here.”

Her legs were stiff as she lowered herself into a chair, a sick feeling growing in her stomach as M. Damocles pulled a different folder out from his desk.

~oOo~

Over two hours later, many truths had finally come out.

1) The school had never closed for months due to akumas.

2) When M. Damocles had been akumatized, it had been at night and did no damage to the school.

3) Greta was not the ambassador, but a secretary.

4) Lila did not suffer from any diseases.

5) They had been in Paris since Lila had started school, no globetrotting whatsoever.

6) She and her husband were not estranged, he had simply wanted to stay at his dream job in Venice and she would never force him to leave it for her temporary assignment here in Paris.

7) Lila’s grandmother was alive and had never owned or given Lila a foxtail necklace.

8) The phone number on file was Lila’s number, not Greta’s. And the email was supposed to be ‘.gov’ not ‘.com’.

Damocles had also called one of Lila’s classmates to his office, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. When the principal told Greta about the incident from the previous month, she was shocked. Then Marinette told them her side of the story; all the lies, the threats, and finally setting the poor girl up to be expelled. Greta had never been so angry with her daughter in her life. Sure, she had been a good little story teller and actress when she was little, but she never would have thought she could be so cruel.

By the end of her explanation, Marinette was practically in tears.

When she mentioned that Adrien Agreste also knew of Lila’s lies, he was called to the office as well. He was a little more reluctant to talk about what Lila had been saying, but Greta insisted that she wanted to know what her daughter had been doing since coming to school, so he told her. If she hadn’t been disgusted before, she definitely was now. Getting Adrien’s father’s employees in trouble, lying about being friends with Ladybug all while telling Greta that she was a useless hero, sexually harassing Adrien while the boy didn’t even realize that was what she was doing to him. She had become a Gabriel model without her permission, which meant that Lila had likely forged her signatures on the contracts, so she would need to contact M. Agreste to get that sorted out. One of the things that surprised her was hearing that Lila had been akumatized, not once or twice, but three times!

Not long after that, M. Damocles dismissed the children so he and Greta could finish speaking. He told her that, due to falsifying contact records and two months of truancy, Lila was likely to be expelled. Greta accepted this, knowing that she would have done the same thing in that man’s position. In fact, she already had a plan forming on how to thoroughly punish her deceitful daughter. And since Lila had basically been quarantined for the next week and a half, she knew exactly what to do.

First, she began the paperwork to have Lila pulled out of Francois Dupont, effective immediately and asked to go speak to Lila’s classmates. After hearing what her daughter had put Marinette through, she wanted to make sure everyone knew the truth. Damocles allowed this, first pulling Mme. Bustier from the class to alert her as to what was happening. The woman was appalled to hear what had happened but insisted that she had been in contact with her for months via email, to which Greta informed her that it was not her email, but one that Lila had likely set up to keep the school from contacting her. This shocked the teacher to the point where she heavily leaned against the wall and M. Damocles had to support her to keep from collapsing.

When Greta was finally permitted to address the class and debunk the lies that her daughter had been spewing, there had been a lot of shock and questions to follow. But when a girl named Alya began furiously typing on her phone to blow up at Lila, Greta stopped her.

“I’m going to ask that none of you contact Lila from now on.” Alya and the other students looked at her in surprise, but she continued before anyone could interrupt. “I have already begun putting her punishment into motion and know for a fact that it will not be something she will forget anytime soon. So I ask that you do not call, text, or email her. If she attempts to contact you, tell her that you are busy and can’t talk. If she attempts to invite you over or make plans for the future, tell her that you are unavailable or that you already have plans. If she makes any threats or rude remarks to anyone, please forward those messages to me, I will leave my number for you to do so. Do this so that I may move forward with her punishment without her suspecting that I have discovered the truth.”

Having finally had the wool lifted from their eyes, the students realized just how much attention Lila seemed to demand on a daily basis. So, by acting like they were too busy for her or not in the mood to talk, that will drive her crazy and be a nice bit of revenge for lying to them. The class agreed.

After that, Greta headed home to find that Lila was still asleep but beginning to wake up, if the coughing was any indicator. While still having the chance, she called up her husband back in Venice.

“Pronto.”

“Mio amor, how are you? How are things at the school?”

“Ah, mia bella, the school is wonderful, though I must admit, my urge to see you and Lila grows by the minute. When will you come to visit me?”

“Very soon, actually. I’m afraid that you and I need to have a talk about our daughter.” About thirty minutes and a lot of cursing later, Ciro Rossi was now completely up to date on the actions of their daughter.

“I wish to say that I cannot believe Lila would do such things, but I can’t help remembering that boy, Roberto, from two years ago.”

Yes, Greta remembered him well. He had been a very popular boy at Lila’s school; handsome, rich, from a very well connected family, and from what she understood, completely dedicated to his boyfriend. She hadn’t paid him much attention until Lila came home crying that Roberto had attempted to sexually assault her. Greta and Ciro had refused to let such a thing go unchecked and went to the police to report him. During the weeks to follow, Roberto was put through hell; bullied at school, he was beaten up a few times, his boyfriend broke up with him, and his name slandered all over Venice. They had believed what happened to the boy to be justified… until proof was provided that he was nowhere near Lila when she claimed to have been assaulted.

She suddenly recanted her story, saying that she must have been mistaken and someone that looked like Roberto assaulted her, but the damage had already been done. The boy and his family moved somewhere far away, and Greta and Ciro were forced to pay restitution to Roberto for ruining his name and reputation. Through her tears, Lila convinced them that it had been an honest mistake and that she hadn’t meant for any of that to happen. It wasn’t long after that, Greta received an offer to be the secretary for the assistant ambassador in Paris. Lila had begged her mother to go with her, claiming that her classmates were now bullying her for what happened to Roberto. Wanting to protect their daughter, they agreed.

Looking back on it now, and noticing the similarities between Roberto and Adrien, both Greta and Ciro were disappointed in themselves for not seeing the truth. Which likely was that Lila had tried to get close to Roberto for his money and connections, and when he turned her down, she lied about the assault to ruin his life, much like she had done to Marinette. And when it came out that she had lied about Roberto, her classmates had turned on her. So when she got the chance to start somewhere new, with people who didn’t know about her lies, she took it. Not caring if she harmed anyone at her new school while repeating old habits. But they were not about to let Lila do the same thing to Adrien or Marinette. Once Greta told her husband her plan, he was all for it and began preparing things on his end. By the time Lila was done being sick, her entire life would have turned upside down.

~oOo~

It took a lot more effort than Greta had expected to hide her intentions for the nine days it took for Lila to get over her case of strep throat, but she had been making good use of that time.

She had contacted Gabriel Agreste’s secretary and asked about any contracts that may have been signed. When she told her she hadn’t signed any contract and that her daughter would no longer be modelling, the woman had no choice but to accept this and inform M. Agreste of this development. The woman also informed Greta that such a breach of contract would result in Lila being blacklisted from the fashion industry. She agreed and promised that she would inform her daughter of this once she was better.

Greta then looked into Lila’s savings and trust fund, of which she had control of since Lila was still a minor. She drained the accounts to pay restitutions to Marinette for bullying and slander, Adrien for sexual harassment; and then sent the rest of it to Roberto, along with a message that she was now completely aware of the type of person her daughter was and would be adequately punished very soon.

And to keep too much suspicion off of her, Greta began mentioning to Lila how her father desperately wanted to see her after she got better, so after the doctor gave her a clean bill of health, they would be going to Venice to see him. Now that she was watching, Greta saw the twinge of uncertainty at the mention of Venice, but quickly covered it with false excitement for going back to visit her father.

As the day grew closer that they would be heading to Italy, Greta also noticed Lila glaring at her phone with utter malice. She might not have known what was going on if Lila’s classmate, Alya, wasn’t keeping her up-to-date on what Lila was telling them. Her daughter was attempting to tell the class that she was going to be going on a trip with a famous singer after she was better, but her classmates were doing as Greta asked and treating the lies as if they meant nothing. When she accused Marinette of calling her a liar while she was sick and couldn’t defend herself, the class stopped responding.

One message that was forwarded to Greta nearly had her abandoning her plan and confronting her daughter at that moment. It was a message that Lila had sent to Marinette, who had shared it with Alya, who then forwarded it to Greta. It read:

You fugly, no talent bitch! You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Those stupid sheep were eating up every single one of my lies before I got sick, and now they won’t even talk to me! Just you wait. When I get back to school, I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself. Maybe I’ll convince someone that you tried to kill me and they’ll kill you for me. Either way, you’re dead. And even if you show someone these messages, no one will believe you over me.

Greta forwarded the message to Ciro as well. He called her right away to discuss other accommodations that they would be making for Lila in the coming days. There was something seriously wrong with their daughter, and they refused to turn a blind eye to what was happening.

When the day finally came that Lila was better and they were heading to Venice, Greta instructed Lila not to pack her more expensive clothes as she would not want to lose them if their baggage got lost. What her daughter didn’t know was that Greta was planning on selling all of her designer clothes, jewelry, her electronics, and everything else to continue paying restitutions to Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto. And it wasn’t like she would need them soon, anyway.

The plane ride was a bit nerve racking for Greta, as she worried about giving something away and Lila figuring out her plan; but if she did, it didn’t show. When they landed at Venice Marco Polo Airport, she had to resist her sigh of relief. The plan was almost ready to be put in action.

When she saw Ciro waiting for them in his dress whites, her heart sped a bit more. The man was, without a doubt, the most handsome man she’d ever met, and was the love of her life. Being away from him for so long was difficult, but what else could they do? Her husband was a Capitano di Vascello of the Italian Navy and had worked very hard to get where he was. Although he was semi-retired now and no longer served on a ship, he had followed his dream and became the Vice Principal for the premier naval academy in Venice, Francesco Morosini Naval Military School.

He had gone to the school when he was younger and always claimed that it was the best experience he could have ever wished for. That being in that school saved his life. So when he continued into the navy to serve his country, he made it his goal to one day become the Principal of the school that saved him, so that he could do the same for other students. And now, they would be doing the same for Lila.

Greta and Ciro had thought of admitting Lila to Francesco Morosini when she came of age, but quickly realized that she was not the Navy type and did not want to force her into it. That choice was no longer Lila’s and she would be staying at the military school where it was Ciro’s job, not only as a father, but as an administrator of the school, to keep a close eye on any problem children.

Ciro embraced Greta and then Lila before taking their bags and walking them to his car. Lila was talking at length to her father about all her friends at school, all the happenings in Paris, and even mentioned her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.

“You would like him, Papa. He’s a model, a gentleman, and his father is the designer, Gabriel Agreste. And he treats me like a princess!” Lila gushed as she showed her father a picture of Lila kissing the blonde boy’s cheek. Greta had seen that picture and had even asked Adrien about it while they had spoken in M. Damocles office. Lila had apparently kissed him without permission when she took that picture, and then sent it to every girl in Adrien’s contact list to make it seem like they were dating.

Ciro played along, asking questions about her classes, Adrien, the akuma situation that he had heard about over the news, and other things to keep Lila from growing suspicious. Sure enough, she prattled on through the entire car and ferry ride to Venice. Only seeming to look around questioning when they arrived at the Naval school, rather than their apartment.

“What are we doing here?” She asked, looking at her father in confusion.

The two parents dropped the act and glared at their daughter in disappointment and anger. “I’m surprised at you, young lady,” Greta started. “Did you really think you could keep lying to us? We. Know. Everything.”

They watched as her olive skin quickly paled. “What do you mean? I didn’t lie, I sw-”

“We know the school never closed,” Ciro interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument or interruption. “We know about you lying to your classmates and teachers about having disabilities and diseases. We know about you changing our contact information on your school records. We know about you bullying and sexually harassing your classmates. We know about the threats you’ve made to that one girl. We know that you’ve been akumatized multiple times. We know the truth about what you really did to Roberto two years ago! WE KNOW EVERYTHING!”

With every word he said, Lila seemed to inch away from her irate parents and shrink into herself. At the same time, they saw the rage and contemplation in her eyes. She was angry at being caught and was already trying to think of a way out of trouble. Not that they would give her a chance to even try.

“But I didn’t li-”

“Lie number one, Ladybug is a useless superhero that let your school get damaged and spent months trying to deakumatize your principal, which is why you were out of school for two months.” Greta interrupted that time, pinning her daughter with a glare that she usually reserved for idiot interns who screwed up important paperwork at the embassy. “I personally spoke to your principal and looked into Ladybug. The school never closed. Ladybug and Chat Noir have always defeated the akumas and restored the damage thanks to their abilities. And you told the school that you and I were off globetrotting to places like Achu.”

Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. She was just beginning to stammer out an excuse when her father spoke over her.

“Lie number two, a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng has been bullying you because she is jealous of your relationship with your boyfriend, Adrien Agreste. We have seen the texts that you have sent that girl, the most recent saying,” Ciro pulled out his phone to read off of the text “‘...I’m going to ruin you in every way imaginable. No one will want to be your friend. By the time I’m done with you, I hope you kill yourself…’ Does that sound familiar to you?”

“I also personally spoke to Adrien after I spoke to Marinette, and found out that not only are you not his girlfriend, but you have been sexually harassing him! You even showed us proof in that picture you took where you kissed him!”

“But that’s not sexual harassment!” Lila shot back at them as her panic grew.

“Any unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, and other verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature constitutes sexual harassment. Your mother and I memorized that when you accused Roberto of assault, which is another thing you lied about! And let me guess, you wanted to use that boy’s popularity and family connections for a leg-up, but he turned down your advances since he was gay. You didn’t take that rejection well, so you told us he assaulted you. Is that what happened?”

“How did you-” Lila interrupted herself that time by slapping her hand over her mouth, quickly realizing that she had confirmed what her father had just said.

“Well, congratulations young lady. You have earned a complete overhaul on your life.”

“What do you mean?” Lila didn’t want to know, but it seemed like she had no choice but to ask.

“Your modelling contract with Gabriel is done,” Greta told her, noticing her wince since they weren’t supposed to know about that either. “I spoke with his assistant and discovered that you forged my signatures on the contracts to let you model. They were kind enough not to pursue legal action against you, but they have asked that I inform you that you have been blacklisted from the fashion industry, so that career option is completely closed off to you.”

“Your mother educated your friends at school with the truth. They know about all your lies and have kept us apprised of what you have been saying, the rumors you have been attempting to spread about going on a trip with a random music star, and were kind enough to forward that threatening message you sent to that girl, Marinette. They are no longer interested in being your ‘sheep’.”

“Not that you will be returning to that school,” Greta continued. “Your truancy has made that impossible, even if we did want you to stay there to face the consequences of your actions. Which includes paying restitution to the people you’ve hurt.”

“Paying!” Ciro and Greta watched as Lila’s right eye began to twitch as she snapped at them.

“Yes, paying. I’ve already emptied out your savings and trust fund to pay back Marinette, Adrien, and Roberto for what you’ve done to them-”

“You can’t do that! That’s my money!” She screamed, stomping her foot at her mother like a five year old throwing a tantrum.

“Money that you earned illegally modelling after forging my signature. And you are a minor, I am well within my rights to take that money to pay for the damages you have incurred. I will also be selling your laptop, tablet, mobile phone, as well as the clothes and jewelry you left in Paris. Seeing as you won’t be needing them anymore.”

As she said this, Lila clutched her phone and hugged it against her chest. “How am I supposed to talk to anyone without my phone?”

“Pen and paper, and if you need to speak with your mother, there’s my office phone or the payphone in the barracks, where you will be staying.”

The girl’s eyes grew impossibly wide as she looked at her parents in a panic. They couldn’t mean…

Ciro smiled the smile that he used to greet the families whose children were in need of discipline. “Welcome to Francesco Morosini Naval Military School, where we strive to give children an education that will help them for their future and the world that waits for them.”

~oOo~

There had been a lot of begging, crying, and screaming after that as Lila did everything she could to try and change her parents’ minds. This was a total nightmare for her. Forced to wear a uniform she hated. Surrounded by students, teachers, and her father; all of whom knew that she was a liar. No one gave her the type of attention she craved, but everyone was giving her the overly watchful attention she despised. She couldn’t even enjoy becoming an akuma anymore, as she was far out of Hawkmoth’s reach.

Greta and Ciro had gone out to dinner afterwards in an attempt to de-stress, only to get a call an hour later that Lila had tried to steal a boat and run away from the school. She was put on a 24/7 watch after that, now required to wear a tracking monitor wherever she went and was on bathroom and floor cleaning duty for the foreseeable future.

When Greta returned to Paris, she went about doing exactly as she promised. She sold Lila’s electronics, clothes, and jewelry; only keeping a pair of plastic stud earrings that her grandmother had given her. She met with M. Damocles again to let him know that everything had been taken care of. She contacted the Dupain-Cheng family to let them know that Lila wouldn’t be bothering their daughter again. That was probably the most pleasant thing she did, as they were a lovely family and sent her off with a box of assorted scones, so yummy! When she had them send a box of goodies to her husband in Venice, he called her a few days later and begged her to send more whenever she could.

Lila absolutely hated seeing her father enjoy pastries from the bakery of her rival’s family. That, along with being forced to talk to a psychiatrist three times a week to make her admit that she was a liar and to figure out why she feels the need to lie. All while wearing a horrible uniform and actually having to clean. She was in her own personal hell. How she wished that she had never gotten sick.

Taglist:

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#lila salt #lila gets exposed #lila lies #lila karma #lila bashing #mlbjustice #miraculous ladybug #lila's parents #parenting done right

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