#catch me screaming about this for the next few days

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - Out Of The Blue

Here we go againnnnn

I hope you all are having wonderful holidays <3

I apologize again for the long wait and the short chapter, the end of the year has been... tiring. In the last two months, my 14yo cat got sick, I got sick, got some medical appointments with not so great news (nothing life threatening or anything but just very annoying as I've been dealing with the same things for years now and they are still not fixed), and now my grandpa is sick when his health was already quite fragile, so yeah, my motivation to write wasn't really that high and I got tired very quickly after writing only two sentences, so that's why it took so so long.

I am very thankful for everyone supporting my silly au tho, it helps me to keep going, so thanks a lot <3 I wish you all a very happy new year <3

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@ancha-aus I'm summoning you once again

Morning came, and everyone had woken up, Cross first to take his turn in standing guard in a hurry after realizing he had slept for more than the planned few minutes, then Killer, who came by his side to keep him company, then Dust, who stayed next to Horror for the warmth, Horror who took a quick nap after his turn and then stayed with the small skeleton, and finally Nightmare, but he didn't move from his spot.

It was cold and humid, Cross needed to find somewhere dry where they could stay. He was walking around the area they had stopped in, thinking, as Killer was walking next to him.

- Quo tendimus ?

Killer asked, but Cross of course didn't understand. He stared at the roman with confusion.

- Iter ?

Killer tried again. Cross's confusion only grew, what was Killer trying to ask him ? Did he need something ? He didn't seem to have a problem, but maybe he was hungry ? They hadn't eaten since the previous day. Maybe Cross should try and hunt something, but how would he do that ? He only had his sword, and he clearly wouldn't be able to chase any prey in this armor. They should try to find someone, and maybe they'll have food for them.

- Mengier ?

Cross tried to ask him if he wanted to eat. Killer frowned, but quickly nodded once he understood the word. It was one of the few words they used regularly and knew how to say in the other languages.

- Sumemusne cibum omnibus ?

- Uh...

- Omnes: me, vos, Horror, Dust, Nightmare.

Killer explained, pointing at himself and Cross before mentioning the others. Did omnes, or omnibus as he said earlier, mean everybody ? It seemed so, Cross figured. Killer asked something about everybody, did he asked if the others were hungry too ? They most likely were, no one had eaten after all. They should find food for everyone. Cross nodded at Killer, to which he smiled, happy to have been understood. Now, where would they find food ?

Killer ran off.

- Killer ! Atendez !

Cross screamed at him to wait, running after the roman. Why did he run like that ? He wouldn't catch anything if he wasn't more discrete !

- Killer !

Cross called again, but the roman didn't stop and continued to sprint between the trees.

Cross eventually caught up to him, only for Killer to slow down and come to a stop once he reached the end of the forest.

- Ne correz mie ainçois !

Cross said when arriving next to him, telling him to not run like that. The roman didn't listen, instead pointing at what seemed to be a town a little farther. Cross looked at it. It looked familiar. Too familiar. He got out of the woods first, careful, looking around for any sign of danger, and gestured to Killer to follow him once sure the area was safe. The roman joined his side, looking at the town, and waited for the knight to lead the way.

- Retez près de moy.

Cross ordered him to stay close to him, not wanting him to run off again. Both started to walk towards the oddly familiar town as it started to become obvious to Cross that they were in his own time as he recognized the buildings and the way people talked and were dressed. They entered by an alley, Cross first, Killer following close behind.

The knight stopped, looking from side to side, the people here didn't seem to notice him, but would they notice Killer ? He wasn't dressed like them, sure it wasn't as striking as the clothes the rest of the group was wearing, but it still was unusual. Cross made a sign to Killer to follow him before getting out of the alley into the streets, if the people saw that Killer was with him they would probably question his clothing a little less.

The two walked for a brief moment, soon reaching the village square with the merchants, and Cross turned in a tight alley between two houses. They needed to find a way to get one of the merchants to give them some food, which wouldn't be easy, as they didn't have any money on them at the moment, but maybe they could pay differently ? They could offer their help for whatever there needed to be done in exchange for food ? They had to try.

Cross turned to Killer to explain his plan, only to not find Killer behind him.

- Killer ?

He called, but received no answer. Where was he ? Did he lose him ? Did he lose him in the crowd ? How could he lose him ?! He was right behind him ! Wasn't he paying attention to his surroundings ?!

Cross left the alley in a hurry, he needed to find Killer ! Luckily, or unluckily, he quickly heard a merchant yell, and not two seconds later he saw Killer running past him with a bag of bread in his arms. Cross didn't need to be a genius to understand that Killer stole those, which, of course, was the total opposite of being discrete.

- Killer !

Cross tried to call him again, running after him, but the roman was faster than he was as he wasn't running with an armor on. He saw Killer take a turn to the left before hearing a loud noise as if he had fallen on something. Cross hoped he didn't hurt himself, even if he was slightly relieved by the thought that he had stopped running.

He followed Killer in the alley, before freezing: the thief was sitting on the ground, a hand above his bag ready to dive in and take out a knife at any moment, only held back to do so by the sword pointed at his throat. The knight standing in front of him was holding the bag of bread in his free hand. Killer's empty sockets were staring at the knight who's gaze wasn't visible under the helmet.

Cross looked at Killer, feeling his anxiety grow in his chest. Why didn't he do as told and stayed behind him ? Why did he have to run off on his own ? He didn't know how things worked here ! No, what was he thinking about ? It wasn't Killer's fault, all he wanted was bring some food to everyone, he couldn't be mad at him for that. Cross should have explained to him better how to behave instead of dragging him in the middle of the marketplace. He should have thought ahead, because now his friend was in trouble. He needed to help him.

Killer's gaze turned to Cross. He had to do something, to think fast and get Killer and himself out of here. But what could he say ? What could he say for the knight to let him go after having stolen food ? Should he blame it on himself ? Tell that he was the one to ask Killer to steal ?

A voice spoke from behind him before he had time to say anything.

- Nos allons le prandre en carge, mercit.

The knight with the sword turned, looking at who just said they were going to take care of the thief on the ground, before nodding and putting his sword away, leaving with the bag of bread. Killer got up, and Cross turned around, having recognized the voice of his best friend immediately. The latter didn't leave him time to speak before almost jumping forward to embrace him.

- Cross ! Où estais-tu ?!

Blue cried in relief, asking his friend where he had been. Cross hugged him back, relieved too to see him as he sighed, grateful for his help with the other knight. Blue had always been here when he needed help, Cross didn't know if he deserved him, but he was so happy he was here. Now, what could he answer to his question ? Where had he been ? He didn't know for sure, he had been in another time, in another place, with other people from other places and other times, but where had it been exactly ? What could he say for Blue not to think he went crazy ? Would Blue even think he was crazy ? Probably not, he never looked down on him for any reason. He would explain everything to him later, for now they needed food.

Cross let go of him after a few seconds to turn to Killer who was waiting, knife in hand, looking between the two knights.

- Killer, mon amic Blue, Blue, mon amic Killer.

The two skeletons looked at each other, "amic" sounded like "amicus" so Killer assumed it meant friend. Was this knight a friend of Cross ? Judging by how he hugged him, it was highly probable. Blue seemed quite surprised but also excited to meet this new friend as he turned to Cross for more talking that Killer didn't understand. He put his knife away in his bag, and waited for Cross to finish, quite pissed that he didn't have his bag of bread anymore.

After a few minutes, Cross turned to Killer, signing to follow him.

- Omnes.

Everyone, he said, they had to go back to where everyone was, and so Cross lead them both out of the town. Cross's house was farther away, probably too far to reach before the night, but Blue had offered to help them get food and clothes, he knew a little inn that would let them stay for the night for free, the owner was a good friend of him, they would stay and go to Cross's place the next day, once in clean clothes and with full stomachs.

Cross was quite happy, he would get to introduce his new friends to his very best one, and they would eat in a warmer and dryer place than the woods. All would be well, he hoped.

He wanted them to have a good time in his time.

[perceivedregret]

A beat. “So, do you not love her?”

Vi freezes in the middle of the hall the same way she did that night. “I never said that,” she mutters, her head falling forward as it all comes back.

“I love you.”

The heavy pause.

The way Vi chokes. “I–”

Caitlyn’s wide eyes.

The crack in Caitlyn’s voice as she muttered, “I’m going to go shower.”

And then the empty bed.

“I also never said it back,” Vi mutters quietly to herself.

the rest can be found on ao3, tagged accordingly sneak peak under the cut

“So, she said I love you and you didn’t say anything back? Why?”

“Powder, how did you even find out about that,” Vi sighs, throwing her arm over her face where she lays on the end of the couch of their living room, her legs thrown over the armrest.

“I heard you talking to Gert last night,” she says matter of fact, throwing herself in the opposite end of the couch, mirroring Vi so that their heads lie next to each other. Vi sighs, annoyed.

“How? We were behind the bar working all night. Wait, were you downstairs listening in through the floorboards again?!” Vi asks accusingly, sitting up to look at Powder. Power only rolls her eyes, fiddling with her newest contraption.

“No… okay, maybe, but it wasn’t on purpose. I was drop testing Wispy, seeing how high he can fall before he comes apart– takes four stories by the way– and then I just overheard you two talking. Why are you even talking to Gert about this anyway?”

“Because I trust them to not go blabbing to every Zaunite and I needed someone to talk to. Also, Gert is just, well, Gert. They found themselves in the middle of it, was able to read me like the fucking book that I am, knew that something was off. So, we talked about it, okay?.”

“Okay, but, who’s the girl? Is it that counselor’s daughter you and dad were talking about forever ago?”

Vi groans, falling heavily back into the couch, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. “I’m so not having this conversation with you right now. Not ever, actually,” she sighs again, decidedly sitting up to retreat back to her room.

A beat. “So, do you not love her?”

Vi freezes in the middle of the hall the same way she did that night. “I never said that,” she mutters, her head falling forward as it all comes back.

“I love you.”

The heavy pause.

The way Vi chokes. “I–”

Caitlyn’s wide eyes.

The crack in Caitlyn’s voice as she muttered, “I’m going to go shower.”

And then the empty bed.

“I also never said it back,” Vi mutters quietly to herself. She groans again, lifting her head, now stomping through the halls to get to her room. She falls face first into her bed, burying her face into the pillow where she screams.

The thing is, Vi wanted to say it, but when the moment came, it went, and then suddenly no time felt good enough to say it. It’s been four days since and she still hasn’t said it and it’s been eating her alive. Caitlyn’s face and the crack in her voice haunts Vi and she doesn’t know how much longer she can take it. After a few minutes Vi’s wallowing is interrupted by a knock at her door that makes her tense. “Powder, I said we’re not talking about it!”

“Talkin’ ‘bout what?”

Vi pushes herself up, craning her neck. “Mylo?” He and Claggor stand on either side of her door, watching Vi like she’s a wild animal about to bite if they move the wrong way. “Claggor? The hells are you two doing here?”

Claggor adjusts his goggles as he points over his shoulder. “Benzo wanted us to walk with Little Man, didn’t want him out in the Lanes by himself while enforcer presence is up.”

“Right…. What’s up with that anyway,” Vi mutters, behind on all things diplomatic or otherwise. Between school, soccer, Caitlyn, and the bar she hasn’t had much time to catch up on the problems of the Lanes. “Gert mentioned something about a threat from the radicals against the Topsiders, but not much else.”

“You worked with Gert last night?” Mylo squeaks before clearing his throat.

Vi snorts at his obvious infatuation. “Yeah, she’s having a small show with The Chem Sisters this week, performing for the Junior Innovators Competition. Gives you an opportunity to trip over your tongue and embarrass yourself,” she says around a fit of laughter as Mylo’s cheeks go scarlet.

“Shut up, alright, I don’t trip over anything. I’m about as smooth as an eel. Besides, aren’t you the one getting hot and heavy with some Topsider? A counselor’s daughter no less! Can you believe it?” he says, turning and clapping Claggor’s shoulder with the back of hand, Claggor who looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

Vi stiffens. “How the hell do you know about that,” she mutters, eyes teetering between the two. Just then Ekko runs down the hall with Powder in a fit of giggles and she remembers– Powder and Ekko were supposed to be working together for their Junior Innovators Competition last night. “Dammit, Ekko,” she curses, hiding her eyes behind her hand as she turns away from the two.

“Hey, it’s not that big of a deal,” Claggor starts, but then Mylo is stuttering to interrupt him.

“Not that big of a deal, are you insane? Vi, dating some spoiled, out-of-touch, probably unhinged power hungry Piltie is so not not a big de –woah woah woah, hey!”

Vi doesn’t know when she crossed the room, doesn’t know when she grabbed Mylo by the collar of his shirt, just knows she’s now forcing him against the wall with so much force a picture frame crashes to the floor. Luckily for her, it’s one that had already fallen before, so there’s no glass to worry about. Unluckily for Mylo, her finger is directly in his face, her own face set in a disgusted scowl as that same hand forms into a fist.

“Don’t you ever talk about her like that again, do you hear me?” she warns, shoving him again for emphasis.

“Or what, you'll hit me? Over some Topsider? Really? You don’t even like the chick enough to say I love you back,” he spits, attempting to shove at Vi but her strength keeps him pinned.

Vi takes a deep breath through her nose, eyes shut as she shakes with agitation. “Listen, Mylo, I know your favorite pastime is picking fights with us, but I’m warning you, this is not one you want to start with me,” Vi ushers. She shoves him away from herself as she steps away. She shoulders past Mylo, giving Claggor an apologetic look as she passes by to get her board from the front door to escape into the nightlife of the Lanes.

[akechi-if-he-slayed]

if u think ao3 author curse isn’t real rest assured it WILL get you eventually. i posted a fic last night and was already getting ready to start a new one today and yk what happened !!! i was doing a box jump at wrestling practice after school and SPLIT MY SHIN OPEN

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[fushitoru]

chapter 1: the debutante a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ you begin to get ready for your presentation for your debut this season, and satoru steels himself to find a wife. you don't get the reception you'd wanted from some, and satoru will soon curse himself for letting his tongue loose (6.3k)

a/n tired of keeping this in the vault lol so I’ll just post it even if my perfectionist tendencies are screaming at me. thank you so much to @/sinn-clair for beta reading and lexi (@/ayyy-pee) for helping me brainstorm 💗

next. the aftermath

general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest reader,

Another season comes as the ton descends to London yet again from the countryside. Young ladies and their mamas flock to the modiste in an effort to fluff their feathers to find a match.

The Itadoris are by far one of the most prolific families in the upper echelons of society. The sight of all the children at once⸺Miss Itadori, Lord Choso Itadori, and Mister Yuji Itadori⸺is enough to catch the attention of mamas and young suitors alike. Miss Itadori, making her debut this season, has much to be desired. The debutante is a meek and demure girl, but with many talents indeed. The oldest, Lord Itadori, has a quiet countenance that has ladies and mamas on their toes, counting the days until he finally joins the marriage market. Mister Yuji Itadori is quite the opposite; his physical prowess on horseback riding has had quite a few ladies swooning after.

Furthermore, the heir to the Duke of Gojo is a most interesting character.  Although he has not deigned to find a wife during any season yet, This Author has heard whispers that he will be looking for a bride during this one.  

Lady Mei Mei can certainly be expected to be on the prowl, waiting to sink her teeth into the wealthiest….

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

“Seriously?” Choso scrunched his nose in displeasure. “Why would ladies want someone who’s quiet? I use it to convey my displeasure, not to be charming.”

On the other hand, the other brother relaxed on the opposite couch, proud. “I knew I looked good on horseback,” Yuji remarked smugly. “You and my dear sister are clearly jealous of how appealing my muscles look while I’m grabbing the reins.”

“Those ladies clearly hadn’t seen you drop yourself in dung when you were younger. Or the face you make when you are so oddly concentrated. As if you just stepped into a chamber pot.”

Before Yuji could come up with a snide remark to his older brother, the two heard an incessant pacing leading up to the doors of the drawing room they sat in. The door slammed opened to reveal their mother⸺Lady Itadori⸺with a hand to her face in clear distress.

Choso and Yuji exchanged glances before Choso calmly set down the single-page newspaper he was reading. “What is the matter, mother?”

Lady Itadori moaned and sat down on a chair raggedly. “Your sister is the matter. I fear the queen will have reviewed every person in London before your sister leaves her room.”

Before Choso could get a word in, Yuji suddenly stood up. “This is a serious matter, mother. After all, she should be punctual to her debut. I will go fetch her.”

“Wait, Yuji!” Choso and Lady Itadori followed Yuji to the grand staircase of the Itadori manor. Hurriedly, they reached the foot of the stairs to see Yuji tilting his head back to take a deep breath.

“SISTER!” Yuji had his palms up to his face, as if to amplify his already booming scream. “YOU! MUST! MAKE! HASTE!” After the quite of bit noise he'd made, he cleared his throat, looking to the side to see his dumbfounded mother and brother, and shrugged. “Well, someone’s got to the job.”

Then, the brothers and their mother look up to see a peek of white and a “Miss, be careful with the hem!” You, at the top of the staircase, grab the front of your ivory dress, with your maids helping you with the train, as you start stepping down the staircase with an irritated frown. “Must you always be such a nuisance, brother?” Traversing down the stairs until your family members were visible, all you saw were dumbfounded and tense expressions. After enduring hours of painting your face and dealing with your maid Nobara’s fussing over your coiffure, you wished for a more fond reaction. Annoyed, you stomped your way past them to the exit, where the carriage was waiting for you four.

“Dear!” your mother exclaimed, rushing to your side and taking your hand as you reached the door. Her eyes, filled with concern, met yours as she nervously asked, “How are you feeling? I know this is a momentous day for you, but remember, you’ve always excelled in your lessons. It’s only natural that you’ll win the queen’s approval, dear.”

“Yes, Mother, of course,” you sighed. “It is just such a hectic day.”

“But you shall dazzle them.” Choso comes behind you, patting your back gently in his reassuring, elderly brother ways. With a proud smile, he says, “The gentlemen are not prepared for your entrance this season.” 

“Indeed! They will be none the wiser to your snark, sister.” You see Yuji coming up on your other side, offering his elbow. You tentatively take it, eyeing him sourly as he continues, “I am simply elated that Mama’s attention will be on you, rather me.”

You reach to smack him on the head, eliciting an "Ow!" from Yuji just as your mother approaches next to him, frowning. "Of course, Yuji. But it won’t be long before I have to chase after you for your tutor’s complaints about your lack of proficiency⸺"

Yuji interjects hastily. "Well! Would you look at the time? The Queen is waiting!" 

"I'm surprised the gossip pamphlet didn't mention how much of a rake you are," Lord Geto mused, taking a sip of brandy. At his right, Duke Nanami was stoic as always, focusing on the tastes the gin was bringing to his mouth rather than  the two older men beside him.

"I'm severely offended you would even imply such a thing," Mister Satoru Gojo put a hand on his chest, feigning offense. Rather than a gin in his hand, Satoru preferred drinking water lest his mouth spilled something even more notorious than his signature calculative icy blue eyes.

He continued. "Honestly, I don't understand this whole Whistledown business. Some might even say the ton holds her words more in regards than the Holy Bible!"

"You're diverting the matter at hand, Gojo," Nanami took his tired eyes off of his drink to look at Satoru. "As the heir and first son, have your parents not urged you to cease your foolishness? There is a limit to the rakish behavior one can exhibit in your position.”

"Yes," Satoru sighed, "They have. That's precisely why I'm looking for a bride."

There was a silence in which Satoru looked up from his glass to see Kento and Suguru’s mouths agape. "What?"

Suguru leaned closer to Satoru, as if to inspect his countenance unsure if he was jesting or not. "So, is it actually true? You're going to get tied down?"

Nanami wrinkled his nose in disapproval. "Must you say it like that? Marriage isn't imprisonment, you know."

Gojo sighed. "Nanami, Nanami. It's clear that one year that separates us in age has also left a gap in experience." Nanami felt a vein pop as Satoru irritatedly continued in his know-it-all voice. "Marriage is an end. The dead end, in fact. It is when you are abroad in Paris, basking in all the fine entertainment and wooing ladies until you realize you are out of funds. Out of money. Marriage is coming home not to go out and drink, but to a wife that has endless needs of you and children that will have frustrating phases of life. An end to pleasure and an end of all jest."

Kento and Suguru exchanged a glance before Suguru asked, "So why are you looking for a wife?"

Satoru looked dejectedly at them, crossing his arms. "My parents insisted. Said they would freeze my funds and kick me out if I didn't get serious about my future." He continued on his desperate rambling, leaning back in his chair. "I don't understand. Must I have a wife to "get serious" in life? I’m serious about all the fucking mergers and dubious finances my father invests in! Look how well I managed his bets!"

"You know, Satoru, your outlook on marriage is awfully pessimistic," Suguru put down his glass to lean back as well, crossing his arms in seriousness. "Don't you wish for a love match?"

"That sounds ridiculous. Love matches are just a passing fancy young ladies have when reading their ridiculous romance novels."

"Well, of course you think that." Kento deadpanned. "No respectable lady in their right mind would fall for you and your attitude."

"Nanami, you wound me."

Suguru glanced at Satoru with concern. "My dear friend, you are making this harder for yourself than it ought to be."

Satoru groaned. "I came here for jest, not to receive words of so-called wisdom. I assure you both, all is well." He looked at both of his friends. "I do not need to be assured. I simply am looking for a woman fine enough to be my wife to appease my parents and their concerns of continuing on the line and handling the dukedom but for a woman so reserved that she'd respect my wishes and isn't so miserable. Or needy." Satoru shrugged. "I would believe these to be respectable requirements for a wife."

Suguru looked at him with mild displeasure. "It sounds like you are looking for a horse to ride, not a woman you would spend the rest of your life with."

Standing up, Satoru moved behind Kento and Suguru to give them a hearty slap on the back. "Trust me, my dear, dear friends. I will find what I am looking for and drink myself silly for the rest of my life!"

"You don't drink." Kento sighed.

"Never mind, you! Sir, more drinks!" Satoru grinned. "Here's to the bachelor life!"

The three men raised their glasses for the toast. Yet, only one of them contained thin water.

You restlessly arranged the feathers in your coiffure and adjusted the fabric essentially squeezing the breath out of your lungs to accentuate your bust. The palace waiting room was stuffy as ever as debutantes and their mamas fluttered across the room in an effort to catch the smallest of flaws on their person.

Before the Queen did, that is.

"Your feathers are fine, dear. Take deep breaths for me." Your mother raised her hands, prompting you to take a breath in and out as her hands lowered.

You gave her your practiced smile and curtsy to which your mother laid a hand on the small of your back in both approval and reassurance. With the other, she grabbed your own and rubbed comforting circles in the junction of your index finger and your thumb. "You have always excelled in your lessons, my dear. I could not be prouder of the woman you are becoming." She sniffed, and you smiled in appreciation. "The Queen will love you, I am sure of it."

You laughed. "Mama, that is what all these ladies think."

“But none of these ladies have poured in the determination you have, my dear.” Your mother holds your head gently by the cheeks. “Your character and proficiency⸺I am sure the Queen will see the promising young lady that I am proud to call my daughter.”

You felt a lump in your throat. While you appreciated your mother’s words, you could not help but think of the significance of this day. You almost felt dizzy thinking about messing up in front of the Queen; if you didn't find a suitable match as a result, what would become of you? 

Suddenly, there was some fanfare from the main room. "Now, presenting Miss Itadori and the Right Honourable Lady Itadori." Your heart jumped out of your throat as you heard the call for you and your mother to walk up. 

"Let's go, my dear." With a fond kiss to your temple, your mother led you by the hand to the center of the tall and ornate doors that opened to reveal the Queen and her audience. You couldn't help but notice that your mother's hand held a reassuring, yet tight vice. 

When the doors opened, your vision blurred. Your heartbeat got faster, and all you could register was the stares. What felt like a million pairs of eyes blinking upon you, scanning your coiffure, garments, and carefully painted face. While the gossiping widows and mamas whispered amongst themselves, some gentlemen scanned you up and down in clear assessment of your constitution. A distinct smell of tobacco and vanilla wafted through the air, and you took an imperceptible breath in as you steeled yourself before putting your practiced, signature smile. 

A memory from your childhood flashed before you.

"She is excelling in her studies," your tutor had said, discussing your performance with your mother in the drawing room. You, sitting beside them, had fidgeted nervously with your small hands clasped in your lap, sitting as straight as you could manage.

"What must she do to improve?" your mother inquired, her eyes sharp with concern.

"Madame," your tutor had said, turning his gaze towards you with a knowing look. "Your daughter is quite nearly flawless. She is of my most exceptional students; her obedience and composure are unparalleled, even at such a tender age." He then fixed his eyes back on your mother with an authoritative intensity. "But there is one element that will truly distinguish her as a diamond."

Your mother had leaned forward, abandoning her tea in anticipation. "What is it?"

"Her smile."

As you flash your smile to the room, you could feel the people in the room going silent. Your smile was what helped you focus and keep your eyes on the prize: impressing the queen. Smiling in the most innocent and demure way you could possibly muster, you straighten your posture as you advance towards the queen, your eyes serene and your expression a masterful display of delicate charm.

The stares of the ton were on your back, but all you focused on was the harmony of your countenance. Chin up, you reminded yourself. Everyone in this room is my prey, and I am the predator. 

When you and your mother reached the foot of the Queen's throne, you dipped into the deepest curtsy you had to offer, keeping your eyes on the ground as you minimized your smile to a more polite and respectful one. You stayed there for as long as the Queen was silent.

Then, a rustling of fabric as the room silently gasped. The Queen was stepping towards you, and you felt a gloved hand take your chin. Not daring to breathe or rise from your genuflection by even an inch, you forced your body to stay in position as your face was raised to look at the Queen’s.

Her booming, yet regal, voice echoed throughout the room. “You, my dear. Perfect.” She then addressed the room. “I have found my diamond!”

The declaration sent a wave of murmurs through the gathered crowd. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you as you slowly rose from your curtsy, your heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes instinctively sought your mother’s, who looked at you with pride and a hint of warning.

“Keep smiling, my dear,” she whispers into your ear. “They are staring now, more than ever.”

Your mother was right, upon reflection. There were eyes observing you far more diligently than they had before. In particular, a pair of icy and brilliant blue ones. 

“Choso, not today.” Your mother sighed. “I am not ignorant of your overprotective tendencies, especially towards your younger sister and brother.”

Choso was fully frowning in displeasure, arms crossed as he observed your mother, Yuji, and yourself board the carriage. “Mother. Sister is the diamond of the season. The men will be after her like hungry vultures!”

“Well, vultures have a tendency to eat freshly decayed carrion. When you get rid of those dark circles and don’t look like dead meat, you can join us.”

Choso protested further, stopping the doorman from closing the carriage door. “But, Mother⸺”

“Yuji, close the door. Your brother will join us when learns to get sleep and not work on those ledgers overnight.” As per your mother’s instructions, Yuji closes the door on him. As the carriage rolls out of your manor and into the London streets, you blow a mocking kiss to your brother, who is now brewing at the doorstep.

“Phew! Good riddance,” Your mother fanned herself. “I need this night with you, alone. God knows how many suitors will be warded off with that horrid glare of his.”

You laughed softly, leaning back against the plush cushions of the carriage. “I suppose it’s a small price to pay for a bit of peace.”

You and your mother were wrong; your brother should have been there. 

Upon your arrival, you were followed by stares, whispers, and men. Bachelors appeared in droves, eager to engage in conversation, each drawn by your newly anointed title as the diamond of the season. After paying your respects to the Queen, you found yourself swept into a whirlwind of attention, each dance and conversation a testament to the allure your status had brought.

As you navigated the crowd with practiced grace, Yuji, ever the observant and cheeky sibling, leaned in close to you and murmured, “I must say, you’ve outdone yourself. They’re practically circling like hawks. Do you think we’ll need to hire a guard just to keep them at bay?”

You gave him a wry smile, barely concealing your exasperation. “Oh, Yuji, you’re so dramatic. They’re just eager to make their introductions.”

Yuji snickered and nodded towards a particularly earnest-looking gentleman who seemed to be making a concerted effort to catch your attention. “Well, if this is what the season looks like, I might have to prepare myself for a front-row seat to a parade of besotted suitors. Just don’t let them all think you’re here to catch them; we wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea.”

Your mother, overhearing Yuji’s jest, gave a light laugh and shook her head. “Oh, Yuji, you and your theatrics. Just make sure you’re ready to fend off any advances that come your way.”

“What?” You’ve never seen Yuji’s smile drop so fast. As if on cue, there were mamas and maidens closer to Yuji’s age that were approaching, as if a pack, and he looked at you in panic. “Are they coming towards us? Sister, you’ve got to⸺”

“Mister Itadori,” It appeared it was too late. A pack of young ladies were right next to you, fluttering their fans and lashes and giggling. “Whistledown has praised you quite well in this last issue.”

Help, Yuji mouthed, but you merely winked in response. The young ladies had effectively formed a barrier around you, offering a temporary reprieve from the throng of eager suitors. Sensing an opportunity, you decided to seize the moment and discreetly made your way towards the punch table.  

The cool, refreshing scent of the punch greeted you as you approached, offering a welcome contrast to the bustling, heated atmosphere of the ballroom. You filled a glass with the fruity, aromatic beverage and took a moment to savor the brief solitude.As soon as you took a deep breath in, savoring your newfound freedom, you felt a presence next to you at the punch table. “Miss Itadori.”

Upon turning, you were met with the infallible smirk of Naoya Zen’in. You had indeed heard⸺and read, in Whistledown⸺that his family adopted nontraditional ways of determining the winner of the family inheritance and leadership. While Lord Zen’in wasn’t guaranteed to be the heir, he definitely was one of the top contenders. You assessed him further, taking in his arrogant demeanor as he reached down to give you a kiss on your hand. Rather wet, you thought in disgust.  

But you hid it well, fluttering your lashes up at him. “Mister Zen’in! I am flattered to be acquainted with you today. How do you find today’s ball?”

“Rather well, of course.” He reached to scoop some punch for himself. “I enjoy meeting all the young ladies and dancing with them, of course. Ever in search of my perfect bride.”

You forced an artificial giggle. “Of course. I’m sure all the ladies that have talked to you have been charmed, as am I.”

He swelled, exactly you expected, as you stroked his ego. “But none of these ladies are as valuable as you, my diamond.” To your displeasure, he took a step closer to you, discreetly tracing his finger from your upper arm to where your dance card resided. “May I have your next dance? I have been perfecting my dance skill to the point all my brothers are envious of my prowess!” He barked out a laugh. “In fact, I beat them in horse riding years ago, and…”  

While Naoya kept talking, you merely fluttered your fan over your face in mock interest. You were really starting to mourn your short-founded freedom, wanting a respite from the self obsessed young man. For some reason, you could smell the same distinctive perfume of expensive tobacco and painfully sweet vanilla you had smelled in your presentation, like a warning. Realizing you were drifting off into space with the heady fragrance, you made sure to tune into his ramblings once more.

For some reason⸺that you were growing to find uncomfortable⸺he still had his hand on your dance card. You felt the previously faint aroma growing stronger by the second. “Of course, I am soon to be the heir of the Zen’in name⸺”

A flamboyant and mischievous laugh cut through the air. “Naoya, you amuse me.” To your alarm, a young man steps to the right of you. From what you can see on the side of his face, his head sports brilliant white hair and his eyes are focused on the bachelor in front of you, who is now displeased and openly glaring at the man beside you.

“Gojo, I⸺”

“Funny that you talk about the Zen’in inheritance, Naoya.” The man⸺Gojo⸺scratched his chin in faux puzzlement while cockily smiling. “Last time I checked, Naobito was discussing handing it over to Megumi over pall-mall!”

Naoya was clearly growing more and more distressed. “Father wouldn’t dare to hand that child with a whore of a mother⸺”

Gojo clicked his tongue, outwardly showing a nonchalant smile, but you could noticeably see his eyes darken. “That’s no way to talk in front of a lady, Naoya, and certainly not of a mother. Besides, Mister Zen’in, didn’t Megumi save your family from the edge of poverty?”

Naoya’s nostrils flared. Clearly at the end of his wit, he did a small bow towards you as he swiftly exited your proximity. You blinked, partially processing the conversation that happened as well as the fact that you were now alone with this Gojo. Turning, you prepared your signature smile, the act you had been presenting for countless of young bachelors today. However, what made you stop in your tracks was his eyes.

Even the pure Englishmen you had met in London didn’t possess eyes like his. They were intense and vividly blue, flashing with judgment and calculation. His face, though strikingly pretty and slightly more feminine than others, seemed carefully constructed to mask his true thoughts. His white lashes contrasted sharply with his hair as he blinked.

And then it hit you. This was the heir of the Gojo dukedom, Satoru Gojo. Known as a capital R Rake for reasons unknown to you (Nobara just insisted he was), you could see elegance and arrogance exuding off of him, yet another noble with an ego as big as his wallet. You recall, then, what Whistledown had wrote about him⸺that he has never shown interest in marriage before today.

It was only after he blinked once more that you realized he was waiting for some response to an introuction you didn't catch. In a panicked flurry, you curtsied and said, “My apologies, Mister Gojo. I fear I haven’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. Miss Itadori, pleased to meet you.”

Gojo’s smile widened, his blue eyes twinkling with an almost imperceptible amusement. “A pleasure indeed, Miss Itadori.” He returned your curtsy with an elegant nod, his voice smooth and teasing. “I must say, you handle yourself with admirable grace amidst such a tumultuous crowd, my diamond.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gojo,” you replied, attempting to regain your composure as you took a sip of your punch. “I do try my best to navigate these social minefields.”

He chuckled softly, the sound light and charming. “Indeed. Though it seems you’ve had quite the evening already, judging by your rapid responses to Lord Zen’in’s advances.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to draw a hint of a smile on your lips. “It appears you’ve been observing closely. Are you always so keenly aware of your surroundings, Mister Gojo?”

“Only when I find the scene particularly entertaining,” he said, his gaze shifting to watch the guests around the ballroom. “And tonight, the spectacle is quite extraordinary. I must admit, you are a refreshing change from the usual parade of predictable manners.”

“Predictable?” you asked, your curiosity somewhat piqued. “Do you find most of the guests here lacking in originality?”

“Perhaps not lacking, but certainly not as intriguing,” he replied with a playful grin. “Take, for instance, Mister Zen’in. A man of considerable ambition, no doubt, but with a flair for the dramatic that grows tiresome rather quickly.”

You nodded in agreement. “Yes, he certainly has a penchant for self-promotion. But then, one could argue that every gentleman here has his own brand of theatrics.”

“True,” Gojo said, tilting his head slightly. “But what I find most fascinating is how you’ve managed to stand out amidst this display of pomp and circumstance. It’s not every day one encounters someone who seems so effortlessly poised, even in the face of such overt competition.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister Gojo,” you said with a light laugh. “But I assure you, my composure is a carefully cultivated skill, not merely a natural state.”

“Ah, then I must commend your efforts,” Gojo said, his eyes gleaming. “It is a rare talent to maintain such grace under pressure. If I may be so bold, might I request the honor of a dance with you this evening? I promise to provide a diversion from the usual pretenses.”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the potential benefits of engaging further with this intriguing man against the immediate demands of the evening. Finally, you offered him a meek smile. "Of course. I shall be delighted to dance this waltz with you."

Pleased, he guided you to the center of the ballroom, your hand elegantly placed in his. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph as you noticed Lady Mei Mei’s envious glances and the heated stares from other young ladies.

Gojo positioned his hand on your waist as you both assumed the proper stance for the dance. “So, how are you enjoying your night? I trust you’re finding pleasure amidst the horde of suitors the Queen has so graciously provided.”

You smiled demurely, carefully maneuvering around him. “Well, my lord, I am very grateful to the Queen for her blessing this season.” You took a delicate step, noting Gojo’s amused smile. “However, it is quite tiring to meet so many people. Repeating my preferences for the countryside or the city can become rather exhausting.”

Gojo’s smile widened as he guided you through a graceful turn. “And which do you prefer?”

“I would argue that the city is preferable when I feel lonely,” you said, gliding with him. “Yet the countryside is ideal for moments of solitude and reflection. Naturally, it also serves as a lovely setting for fond memories with a future husband.”

“What do you enjoy doing in nature?”.

“Embroidering or practicing the pianoforte,” you replied, making sure to display a wistful smile. “There is something particularly enchanting about playing the piano with the door open, letting nature's melody blend with the music.”

“Do you have any other talents or skills?” Gojo inquired as you both continued your dance.

“Yes,” you said, “I am fond of reading and immersing myself in literature. I also have a passion for the arts and languages.”

“Which languages do you speak?” he asked, guiding you through a series of intricate steps.

“I am well-versed in the classics⸺Latin and Greek. I’ve also picked up some French and Spanish, when I was yearning to follow my older brother through Europe for years.”

“What about literature? What do you enjoy reading?” Gojo pressed, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your smile grew slightly strained as you felt the conversation veer towards an uncomfortable territory. You felt as if the duke was interviewing you for review of your admission into an academic institution rather than holding conversation. “I enjoy Byron, sir,” you said carefully.

Gojo hummed in approval. “And here I was, thinking all ladies were engrossed in Whistledown.”

“Ah, well,” you feigned a sigh, your smile tight. “Gossip has its charm for a lady, sometimes.”

“For men, too, I must admit,” Gojo said, tilting his head towards his group of friends. “But I must confess, it is rather unpleasant when the gossip circulates that I am a rake.”

That's because they're true, you whore. "I guess it's up to the smarter individuals in society to discern the truth from the slander."

Gojo’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he guided you through the final steps of the dance. “Indeed, it seems wisdom and discernment are valuable traits in navigating the labyrinth of society’s gossip.”

You nodded. “Quite so. It is the discerning few who see beyond the surface and recognize the true character of a person.”

As the music swelled to its concluding notes, Gojo drew you closer, his gaze fixed on you with a calculative expression. “And what is it that you seek to convey through your own character, Miss Itadori? In a world full of pretense, what do you wish to be known for?”

You maintained your practiced smile. "Mister Gojo, in a world where appearances often speak louder than words, I find it best to embody grace and humility. I hope to be seen as a gentle and devoted companion, one who supports and uplifts those around her.”

Gojo’s smile only sharpened, and you couldn’t help but shake the feeling of somehow being calculated, observed, even hunted as he offered,  “A noble aspiration. It is refreshing to encounter someone who values authenticity amidst the artifice.”

As the final strains of the waltz came to an end, Gojo escorted you back to your starting position. He bowed deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. “Thank you for the dance, Miss Itadori. It has been an evening of unexpected delights.”

You curtsied in return, your eyes meeting his with a demure and sincere expression. “The pleasure was mine, my lord. I am honored to have had this opportunity.”

With a final, charming smile, Gojo stepped back, giving you a nod. “Until we meet again, Miss Itadori. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

After Gojo had taken his leave, you found yourself once again surrounded by a steady stream of suitors eager to engage you in conversation. You indulged a few with polite discourse, your smile unwavering as you navigated the well-trodden paths of societal pleasantries. Despite your best efforts, fatigue began to set in, and you soon reached your limit.

Deciding to take a brief respite, you excused yourself with practiced grace. You made your way discreetly to the veranda, seeking solace and a breath of fresh air away from the relentless din of the ballroom. As you stepped out into the cool night air, the sound of the revelry faded to a distant murmur, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the faint scent of blooming flowers.

With your mind fresh and clear from the suffocating revelry, you couldn't help but reflect back on the night. With the Queen deeming you as the diamond of the season, you knew your mother and Choso had been appeased. Of course, tomorrow was going to be a long morning; judging by the sheer number of young men approaching you today, you knew many of them would be visiting your drawing room to converse with you and gain the approval of your brother.

There were some suitors that stood out. Lord Ino seemed to take genuine interest in what you had to say, but Mister Fushiguro had both interest and quiet respect that you couldn't help but think was ideal for a marriage. After all, you just wanted a peaceful life after securing yourself and your family. While brief, you had conversed a bit with both Duke Nanami and Lord Geto, but it had been interrupted by some of their friends inviting them onto the terrace. You were sure Naoya wouldn't bother showing his face tomorrow.

That left him. Blue eyes. You couldn't help but think you had heard about him somewhere. 

Gojo.

Even though you couldn't recall much other than his rakish tendencies, the future title of Duke was certainly attractive and respectable. He wasn't so bad; with dashing looks, you couldn't help but simply think that a pretty face wouldn't be bad to look at for all those years. You snickered to yourself at your sheer display of vanity in your thoughts.

If you had to think of the most vain reasons to justify your suitors, Mister Gojo would definitely top your list of the most handsome of men. With a sturdy and healthy build, you could notice the years of dedication he must put in to maintain his athleticism. Perhaps archery, you thought. Those shoulders were definitely wide for days. Or maybe horse riding. He definitely seemed to fill in his pants with his thighs.

However, it was impossible to ignore his mischievous nature. You couldn't imagine a man such as the future Duke showing any outward display of affection, and all your interactions⸺from him outwitting Naoya, to interviewing you under the pretense of dancing⸺have always had him either besting or calculating the other converser. He definitely had a superiority complex, you rolled your eyes. Clearly, your display of the simple and stupid maiden pleased him. You wondered if he treated all the other ladies with the same level of disrespect and evaluation.

Deciding you were too far into the gardens, you turned the opposite direction to join the revelry once more in fear of attracting strange rumors about your presence in the gardens late at night. As soon as you got closer and closer to the ballroom, you heard voices.

"Ah, but there is the diamond, of course." 

You perked up, interested in knowing who was talking about you. The voices seemed to be coming from the entrance between the terrace and the ballroom. "Of course, I understand why the Queen has deemed her so." Crouching, you aimed to discreetly hide behind a large trimmed bush in such a manner that if someone were to be passing by, you wouldn’t appear suspicious. 

Another voice chimed in. “She is beautiful. Not in the salacious way Lady Mei Mei is, but in a more authentic and innocent way.” 

“I fear the ladies nowadays are salacious⸺hungry for suitors with money and power⸺so it only makes sense that the ladies appear that way. But the diamond; she is different.”

A slap, as if someone was affectionately patted on the back for attention. “Yes, yes. But let the man of the night give us his assessment. After all, he is the one who is here tonight with us, finding a wife, when no one who had ever talked to him would ever think he would be doing such a thing.”

“Well, of course. It wouldn’t take a fool to know that marriage is basically imprisonment.” You could discern the speaker’s wry tone. “The goal here is to appease my parents, and my ticket to that is the diamond.”

“Well, get on with it,” a voice pressed, rather impatiently. “What’s your assessment?”

“A bit simpleminded.” Some feeling struck your lungs, as you recognized that it was Gojo’s voice that was speaking. You swallowed, your heart pounding as you waited for more harsh words to torrent upon you. “Has no opinions of substance that should cause conflict. She’s perfectly fine for a wife. I shall begin courting her and will soon propose⸺"

You didn’t hear the rest because you soon found yourself dashing in the opposite direction, towards an alternate entrance to the ballroom. You couldn’t bear to hear any of the more degrading and embarrassing things Gojo had to say about you as you slowed your pace to a fast walk. 

With the main entrance to the ballroom in sight, you thought about the other gentlemen⸺if you could even call them that⸺that must be present, conversing with Gojo. How widespread are these assessments of you? Do all gentlemen think you stupid? However, your thoughts are interrupted when you bump into someone, rather hard.

“Are you alright?”

You look up, putting a hand to your bosom as you try to catch your breath. You see Duke Nanami’s face in close proximity, as he furrows his brow in light worry. You’re clutching your forearms as you are heaving, trying to get oriented. “Yes,” you heave. “Yes, Your Grace.” 

Nanami clearly didn’t accept your assurance as he helped you stand to your full height. “Is there anything wrong?”

“No, no, I assure you; I am quite alri⸺”

“Sister! There you are!” Yuji comes up from behind Nanami, and both of you turn to look at him. “I’ve been looking for you! The punch here is terrible, some of the mamas here are horribly intoxicated. Do you know Mei Mei’s mother just admit⸺” he cuts himself off as he observes Nanami, who’s still touching your arms,  with wide eyes. “Di⸺Did I interrupt something?”

“NO, you didn’t.” You burst out, not wanting yet another man leaving with an unfavorable expression of you tonight. You and Nanami both take a step back to distance yourselves, and he clears his throat.

“Good night, Miss Itadori. Mister Itadori.” He gives you both curt bows as he makes his way past to his carriage.

Yuji blinks. “Oookay. Anyways. Mei Mei’s mother just barfed on top of Naoya as she was buttering him up. I must admit, Mei Mei and Naoya make a formidable match in being intolera⸺”

You could feel yourself filtering Yuji out as you thought about the gentlemen’s gossip from earlier. While you weren’t exactly surprised that Gojo appraised you as a pawn, you couldn’t help but be a little offended that he could talk behind your back. Who’s to predict the other naive ladies that would be subject to his callous and calculative behavior?

 There was only one conclusion to be drawn that you swear to remember for the rest of the season: Gojo was not a man of honor, and you were not going to be one of his victims. 

next. the aftermath

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[mixingandmelting]

Give Life Another Chance

Summary: He had always had your back when he was Robin. He'll always have your back even as an Outlaw

Word: 3.9k

A/N: Finally did Jason's version of childhood friend to lover trope! *Also part of Winter Series: Day 5

Soft, black curls and a smile that could win the hearts of millions- there were so many good points you probably should’ve noticed first. But having been kicked out of the orphanage again and preoccupied to find a safe place to sleep on the streets for the night, your mind was slow to process that you were just saved from being jumped by Robin. So, your brain chose to point something else out as it registered.  Like how haughty he was being with both hands on his hips and an eyebrow raised as he had asked why a kid like you was out in the street this late. 

“You’re short.” 

“…Seriously? Instead of a thanks you tell me I’m short?” 

You were going to ask him if he had any plans on denying what you had just said when one of the thugs on the ground let out a groan. 

“Let’s go!” 

Quickly, boy wonder wrapped an arm around your waist before using the Batarang to pull the two of you up one of the near-by buildings. Surprisingly, you never once let go of him nor scream as he swung from one building to the next. Was it from trust? Survival instincts? You don’t know.  The next few minutes blurred as two teens continued to swing from building to building until he finally landed in front of a 24/7 burger place.

“Wha-where-“

Where did he get the cap he plopped on your head from? When did he change into the hoodie and sweatpants? Your head was spinning from so many unanswered questions that he was practically dragging you into the restaurant with a firm yet gentle grip around your hand. Shuffling you into a booth, he sat across from you and ordered two sets of the same burger meal. 

You both sat there quietly until the food came out. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Robin asked, noticing you hadn’t touched your food yet. 

You blankly blinked at him then at the food in front of you. Slowly, you reached for the burger and took a bite. Then another. You take the napkin he offered across the table to wipe your mouth and cheeks from both the food stains and tears while eating. 

By the time you finished, you both were slurping on your soft drinks, stuffed and satisfied.

“Well?” He asked, his eyes behind the domino mask trained on you. 

“… Why?” He must’ve expected you to ask him from the shrug he gave. 

“You looked like you needed it.” 

You looked like you needed it? 

“You were planning to sleep out tonight weren’t you? How were you going to do that on an empty stomach?” 

“I…” You paused for a moment, fiddling with your thumbs. “I’m used to it.”

He didn’t cue you or pressed for answers. It was all on you, spilling everything you’ve gone through from how your parents had abandoned you at age four from being chased by loan sharks to how you were continually being kicked out of each orphanage you enter for accidentally catching the employees embezzling funds meant to maintain the place. 

The one question he did ask was about school. He didn’t pursue further when you told him everyone knew your clothes were from hand-me-downs and the Salvation Army. 

You appreciated how he didn’t offer words of faux sympathy, simply muttering with an “I see”. You were curious what expression he was making though as he had his head turned toward the window and the hoodie pulled over his head blocked your view. 

Once the glasses were emptied, you both headed out. 

“Do you have any friends at your school?” 

You weren’t taken off guard anymore, finding yourself adapted to your current situation. 

“No.”

“Then head to this place. It’s nicer compared to all the others you were placed in.” 

Unexpectedly, an address for somewhere in the nicer neighborhood of Gotham was neatly written on the napkin.

“Yeah, and how am I supposed to get there? Have them let me in? It’s not like I have a social worker or anyone who’ll fill the paperwork for me.” 

“It’ll be fine. Just take the bus and walk there. Once you get there, just give them your name and then, they’ll let you in.” 

It was suspicious to say the least. At the same time, you didn’t have anything to lose.

“Then you have to promise to come visit me tomorrow.” Childishly, you stuck your pinky out at him. “ ‘Cause if you don’t, it’ll be your fault I’m dead.” 

“You aren’t going to die,” he snorted, yet wrapped his pinky around yours. “If anything, it’ll be a step forward to make life a bit better.” 

He was right. Life did get better when you arrived at the written address. With no hesitation despite the time of your arrival being past 1:00 AM, a kind woman welcomed you in and helped get you situated. For a week, you were busy getting used to the new environment where everything and everyone was… well, normal. None of the other kids looked as if they were struggling or waging war for survival. The adults were attentive and fostered healthy maturity. 

It helped that Robin had decided to visit you every night rather than just the next day. Along with checking in that you were okay, he listened to everything you had in your mind. The struggles, the challenges, the confusion from how none of your past experiences could’ve prepared for this big of a change. In a good way of course. 

Too bad the visits became less frequent once you started going to your new school. He mentioned about getting in trouble for not focusing on his patrols the last time. Your disappointment must’ve been evident when he proposed to do the  “pen-pal thing”. Using how you mentioned you’d do anything to thank him on the promised night as an excuse, he apparently had been wanting to do it but didn’t have anyone until you. 

That’s how you ended up leaving your window open ajar every night, having slipped a letter between the slim gap between the sill and the window itself and getting one back the same way, same place.

School on the other hand was eventful. Your only friend was Jason Todd, who, you had to admit, put in a lot of work to get close to you. To be fair, you didn’t expect someone to approach you all friendly on your first day. There were some hiccups along the way, however you guys managed to get through them and became buddies. 

There wasn’t a day you guys weren’t hanging together. Homework was being done at the library, talking about the books you both recently read during lunch. The time you both didn’t talk to each other was during class. Unlike you who sometimes found the drawl on Homo sapiens boring, Jason was soaking in all the knowledge with enthusiasm. You once called him school-freak from how much he loved to learn, being in school and exploring the topics the teachers were going over. He retorted that you were mad you couldn’t beat him in getting a higher grade during the last exam. You simply snatched his book and ran away with it, not appreciating how he was right.

With Robin during the night and Jason during the day, you were brighter and friendlier. Slowly, yet surely, you were found smiling more and approachable. Your schoolmates and teachers warmed up to you, treating you like one of them. You also had a place you could call home temporarily, where you could relax and enjoy the presence of having somewhat of a family.

The serenity and joy you had ended up lasting for two years. Jason suddenly stopped coming to school. Robin hadn’t visited you for a while nor sent you a letter. With Robin, you assumed it was because he was busy fighting criminals alongside Batman. Jason? You got worried about him. You tried to get in touch with him in every possible way you can. You asked the teachers, who were also worried as they didn’t know why he hadn’t been attending. You used the school’s directory book they hand out every year and sent letters to his residence. 

It was when you got the courage and called his home phone you were given the news. It went from shock. Denial. And then devastation. You felt completely ruined. Your eyes were glass and devoid of emotions when you had gone to his grave, dressed in black, holding a bouquet of red roses (he once said in passing that they were his favorite). 

Your one friend you made for the first time in life- you refused to believe he was dead. The news reported it was from an incident related to the Joker, making things much harder from the sheer weight of reality. Especially knowing the survival rate of the victims when the notorious villain was involved. 

You managed to maintain sanity superficially, convincing everyone that you were over it. That you were fine. Never realizing the reason for you to hold on was from the belief that Robin would soon visit you again when he had time or at least take the letters that were growing longer where you switched size of the envelopes multiple times.

Things became complicated when Batman, who hadn’t been seen with Robin for so long, made an appearance with him again. Problem was, the Robin next to the older man wasn’t your Robin. Instead of soft curls, his hair was silky and straight. The costume was different. The way the new Robin smiled wasn’t the same as the other Robin. Your Robin.

During the time Robin wasn’t present, you had thought he was severely injured.  Hence your expression of concern was always written in your letters, even in the midst of your grief. But what if. Just what if- 

You wanted it to be not true so much as you matched dates to events. The day of Jason’s death to around when Robin stopped sending you letters. The day Jason was seen with a cast to the day Robin wasn’t present on a mission. It was a cruel, awful joke played by the fates. Your Robin was Jason Todd. And the people- no, person- you loved with every fiber in your heart was dead. 

Jason, on the other hand, was never really into people back when he was a kid. Helping those in need and bringing justice so those suffering would finally have peace? Of course. He would always do it. Interest in a specific person though? He didn’t until he found you walking out and about in the middle of Park Row. Initially, out of empathy from knowing what it was like living in that awful area of Gotham, he was planning to follow you in the case you decided to get your hand dirty and mess with the wrong nest. He was proven wrong and soon changed his assessment of you to respect when he watched you give candy from your bag into the hands of the little kids hiding in the alley. You weren't being dumb about it either, posing it as if you were threatening contrary to what had actually happened. The longer he followed you, the more he saw how knowledgeable you were, knowing when to pick fights and when to keep your head low to stay out of trouble as you walked through the different alleys.

It made him more curious about you, from how you managed to save an adult man from a beating by tripping the assailant with the cover of his sidekick being the one to kick a nearby can. When he read the information he was able to find about you, he felt bitter. It was one thing to live with a dead-beat dad and a drugged out mom, but it was a whole different situation when having to live out in the street without a roof to cover your head most of the time, trying to get by on your own with no adults. 

He tried to think of something, anything to help you that night, after closing out the files that had been on the monitor in the Batcave. He started out with following you around during patrols and beating up anyone who seemed suspicious or approaching you with ill-intent behind your back. In his spare time, he was figuring out ways to get in a better child-care system considering you were still a minor, just like him. After hearing about his old man sponsoring to open an orphanage in central Gotham, he mustered the courage to put in a favor.

His plan was all set and ready to go once Bruce got involved, all that was left was to get you on board. Lady Luck must’ve been smiling at him when the perfect opportunity arose when he caught sight of some thugs hiding in the alley you were about to pass. That definitely got your attention when the thug that was close to grabbing you by the scruff went down with a thud. 

He never understood that awful and tragic feeling of seeing someone empty until he saw your eyes. Blank and filled with nothing, not even a spark of resentment or rage. He swallowed the lump in his throat, heart burning from the evidence of how the corruption of Gotham claimed another young victim. 

“So, what’s a kid like you roaming the streets at this time?” 

He didn’t mean to sound cocky. He was trying to sound normal, mustering the tiny drop of remaining strength in him to not waver when you looked so broken. Doesn’t mean he was impressed with your jab though. He had been told by Alfred that he was taller than Dick when he was the same age as him for your information. 

As he proceeded to help you get another chance with life, it wasn't part of his plan to become besties, even more so develop feelings for you. Sure, when he approached you as Jason Todd, things didn’t go well at first considering he knew you but you didn’t know him. His civilian self, to be exact. But as he got to know you as both Jason and Robin, he came to know the other side of you. The one with a heart that could encompass the whole world, a mind that had the potential to excel in anything you put your mind into. He constantly worried over the chances of you getting hurt, despite the rough exterior, from being so fragile.

Your letters reflected this as there were times your vulnerability appeared in writing on your thoughts of others. Yes there was hatred and annoyance but always in the last paragraph, you express your desire to understand rather than to exact revenge. You wanted to give them a chance and connect, not resent. 

The day he was captured was the day he wanted to confess to you. Reveal who he was and see if he could have a chance to be in your heart. So when he had come back to the living, he didn’t seek you out. He was scared to find out you had moved on without him. That he was simply left as a fragment of a memory like everyone else. 

You would’ve laughed at the expression he made if you had seen him when he saw you at his grave. He was camping, hoping that Bruce would appear and prove him wrong. To show that he was still loved and in his heart as his son. All he could do was hide his presence behind the giant oak tree, slightly tilting his head out to watch what you were doing. 

He watched your form from behind as you sat down in front of his grave before shuffling and pulling out folded pieces of paper. With his hiding spot not being that far off, he could hear you talking. And he wished he didn’t. A giant block of ice settled to the bottom of his stomach, listening to you read your letters you apparently continued to write to him. Your voice didn’t waver, casual and light as if you were truly talking to him like in the past. 

When you got to what seemed like the end, your voice cracked. Then a sniffle. For a moment, he forgot the anger and hatred he harbored, his knuckles going white from suppressing himself to reaching out and comforting you. It ripped him into pieces from the sorrow and wretch you were emitting, sobbing and whimpering why he couldn’t have told you sooner. Why he left without letting you say your final farewells. How you wanted him back.

You get interrupted and quickly forced to wipe your tears when your phone rung. 

“This is Officer-“ 

He stopped breathing. Out of all things, you became a police officer. The hope to meet and rekindle with you was completely crushed, his status not at all glamorous or society acceptable at the moment. When he heard ruffling, he came back to reality. He could feel his eyes well-up as he watched you place a familiar bouquet of flowers on his grave before getting up and leaving. 

Once you were gone, he walked over and picked the bouquet up delicately. For the first time since his revival, he was grieving for someone other than him, someone he still loves. Ironically, he wished that you were the one to have forgotten about him. Not being haunted and distraught as if you were watching him die over and over. 

Maybe it was then he developed the motivation to change, to leave and let go of emotions he had been holding up to then. Eventually, he had gone from working to dominate the underground businesses to getting rid of them. And whenever he had spare time, he’d have your back and make sure no one was going after you. It wasn’t just criminals he would take down who were planning to attack you and your group when on the field, he had also aimed at any corrupted officers that were going to use you as their scape-goat. 

Sure he had gone on adventures as he progressively turned over a new leaf, yet you were and still always his priority. Back when he was Robin and now, as Red Hood the outlaw. As time passed, he could see you healing. Your smiles more genuine. A glow in your skin. Your visits to him every week being more peaceful. 

He didn’t think nor entertain the idea of ever meeting you again. How could he when it’ll break you to find out he’s been alive, again, for so long?

So imagine his surprise when he arrives at the manor for the traditional Wayne Christmas party, finding you standing under the ridiculously large tree in the equally ridiculously large living room. 

The disgruntled expression gets replaced with shock for Jason as yours morphs into disbelief. 

“Ja..son…?”

Six feet, a body packed with muscles and scars, not to mention the infamous brown, leather jacket. Dick really wasn’t kidding during the time you helped hide him and the other vigilantes during the anti-hero hunt led by Amanda Waller when he had revealed that Jason Todd was actually alive after hearing from you how you knew the other, both as the former Robin and civilian. It makes you sick in the stomach of how much the person you loved once known as Mr. Sunshine went through for all the pure, unadulterated positivity and radiant optimism to be stripped away from him, leaving only hardship, fatigue, and harshness when hearing what he had gone through before and after his death. He didn’t deserve such cruelty, not when he was trying to pull the weight of the effort society refused to put in to make life better when he was a tiny teen. 

What you do next is risky. It may cause you to lose everything the two of you once had even. But how could you have him stand in front of the double-oak doors alone with eyes exposing his vulnerable and fragile heart. 

The questions he wants to ask, the actions he wants to take, they all are swallowed down when he’s pulled into a hug. It’s then he notices how much smaller you are compared to him. Your arms that once used to completely wrap around his shoulders can barely wrap around his torso. Your frame, frail as you tremble and leave tears on his thin, cotton shirt. 

He doesn’t need Dick’s motions or Tim’s mouthing to know what to do. Careful to crush you, he leans into you. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you I was back.”

It’s the greatest Christmas gift life has ever given the two of you when you awkwardly nod in response to his words, no intentions of letting him go from fear he’d disappear on you again. And the sentiment is shared when he squeezes you closer to himself, a smile that was lost for a while reappearing and making those around feel the joy of the holiday miracle.

[obae-me]

How many kisses I think it would take before he turns to mush

My creativity has been stuck in essentially a rush hour traffic jam for like weeks, so let's write something silly for practice, shall we?

Lucifer

Definitely ten or more. He tries to keep his composure, to focus on the task at hand, scold you for coddling him and distracting him, but if you hold onto your stubbornness and see it through to the end, he will be putty in your hands soon after you reach double digits. He might even fall faster if you give him little bits of praise after every kiss.

Mammon

Three MAX. One to catch him off guard, one to make it really sink in, and then the third to land the final blow. No amount of tsundere will outlast the triple attack. He'll be following you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day, almost demanding more. He's greed after all, three might've broken him, but he'll be damned if he doesn't get more.

Levi

I would be tempted to say just one is enough, but we want a soft boy, not a vibrating, anxious mess. He gets tense at first, and he needs some reassurance and some time to understand that he likes and is okay what is happening. So I'm going to say five or more kisses. The first few he's just stuttering and blushing, but soon after, he can put that aside and just allow himself to relax a bit.

Satan

He acts like it takes him just as long as Lucifer, reaching double digits, when in reality he gave in internally much much earlier than that. Four is when his heart is melting and his mind is screaming, but around eight is when his body starts to unwind, almost curling around you like a cat.

Asmo

Much higher than you would expect. One must bridge the initial flirting phase before he becomes a puddle. I'm going to say probably six kisses. The first three he'll be giddy, but if you get softer with each kiss, he'll slowly start to become speechless.

Beel

As long as there isn't food in the way, just one. One kiss is all it takes. This demon has just so much love in him, you hardly need to kiss him for him to be soft for you. He doesn't need to put up an act. Just give him a single smooch and he'll drop whatever he's doing to cuddle into you.

Belphie

So many kisses. Probably even more than Lucifer. He feels like he deserves your kisses anyway, so it's hard to get him flustered about it, especially when he's so spoiled. Besides, you have to hope your affection won't lull him to sleep. Over ten for sure. Just keep going. Eventually, he'll be overwhelmed and give up his sleepy smug nature and transform into fluff.

Diavolo

Look me in the eyes and tell me this touch starved man will not cave after like two or three. He's not used to kisses, so the first kiss has his brain lagging. Hit him with the double combo and he's gone. Wasted. Fatality. Although please just kiss him more than twice. He really likes it.

Barbatos

Too many to count, unfortunately. He likes it, don't get him wrong, he's just tough to break. But there must be a breaking point somewhere. Keep attacking him with kisses and surely he must give in eventually, although most likely by his own will, giving in just so you can catch a proper breath. A win is a win.

Simeon

Probably no more than four, although it seems like more than that because he'll often return to sender and kiss you back. Don't give in, you must stay strong before he makes you melt first. Hum as you kiss him and he'll fall faster, almost cooing.

Solomon

He's got a stronger will than most, almost as good as Barbatos, but he will melt in due time. He'll treat it like a game at first, which it almost is to you, but he doesn't have to know that. It takes a while, but when he melts, he melts fast. He'll be trying to chuckle and make light of it one moment, and then be a completely speechless mess the next.

[tardis--dreams]

*googles* how to say no to invitations after having been actively excluded for months without sounding like a petty bitch

[fastandcarlos]

Stealing Baby Norris » Carlos Sainz ft. Lando Norris

summary: when carlos sainz is revealed as the new mclaren driver your brother lando is happy to introduce you. what happens though as a relationship strikes up and carlos finds himself on the way to ferrari?

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,025,482 others

carlossainz55: having the best time in papaya, thank you to everyone who has welcomed me so far 🏎️🧡

tagged: mclaren

64,291 comments

mclaren: glad to have you onboard, looking forward to working with you carlos!

username1: carlos + lando = the dream pairing

username2: how does this man manage to pull off every damn colour

landonorris: can’t wait to get going with you dude, we’re in for a great season together

carlossainz55: @/landonorris it’s gonna be a great ride 🏎️🏁

carlossainz55: @/landonorris ps when’s the next norris family dinner I get to attend

username3: wait carlos went for dinner round lando’s house…that’s so cute

username4: @/username3 that means he would’ve gotten to meet all the siblings too 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 829,402 others

landonorris: already found me a new best friend to annoy for the season 🥰

tagged: carlossainz55

72,225 comments

mclaren: our views will be through the roof this year with content from you two

carlossainz55: it’s been two days and already you make me want to scream

username5: this duo just screams trouble

username6: handsome, funny, talented, carlando are the dream pairing

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 you have my sympathies, I’ve been dealing with his nonsense for over 20 years

carlossainz55: @/ynusername how have you survived?? pls teach me your ways

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 let’s catch up next race and I’ll share all my tips 📗

carlossainz55: @/ynusername I’ve got my notebook ready!

username7: not y/n and carlos interacting on the gram

username: anyone else left thinking carlos and y/n would make a great couple

alex_albon: if carlos lasts more than a season with you I’ll give you a thousand pounds 😂

georgerussell63: did everyone forget to give carlos the memo about lando and his unflattering photos??

username8: have the norris family just adopted carlos now? 🥺

username9: these two might just have the power to turn me into a mclaren girlie by the end of the season

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, ynusername and 739,300 others

carlossainz55: weekends off = exploring the world with my favourite person 🌍✈️

43,492 comments

username10: whose been taking all these photos??

username11: anyone else been noticing y/n appearing in the likes again 🤔

landonorris: I thought I was your favourite person??

carlossainz55: @/landonorris how does number two sound?

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 I guess I can make an exception for one person 😂

username12: there’s only one person that lando would make an exception for

username13: omg he’s got to be talking about y/n

username12: @/username13 y/n is the only person lando is that whipped for

charles_leclerc: woah look at you posting handsome aesthetic shots 🤯

carlossainz55: @/charles_leclerc I’ve been having a few lessons ☺️

username14: let me be the one you explore with pls carlos 💦

lewishamilton: well earned after a great week my guy 🏆

lance_stroll: I wanna know the gossip too

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, ynusername and 1,429,231 others

carlossainz55: making the most of the sun during the off season, and luckily for me I had the best company to make the most of the time off too ❤️🥺

tagged: ynusername

192,492 comments

username15: poor lando, losing his little sister to carlos

username16: they just look so adorable together

pierregasly: hell yeah congrats you two 🩷

landonorris: excuse me I do not give permission for you to post photos of my sister in the same album of you half naked

carlossainz55: @/landonorris your sister wasn’t complaining when I asked her to take these half naked shots

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 you just wait until I next see you 🤬

username17: lando already regretting ever letting the two of them meet

username18: I bet carlos teases Lando about dating his sister whenever he can lol

ynusername: thank you for the most amazing holiday…you’re the best 🔥💕

carlossainz55: @/ynusername can’t wait to do it again soon (just don’t tell lando) 🥰

georgerussell63: glad to see you guys enjoying yourselves, can’t wait to hear all about it

danielricciardo: and the award for the new cutest couple in f1 goes to…

username19: this relationship is gonna bully the hell outta lando

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 429,555 others

ynusername: a weekend of supporting my boys…it doesn’t get better than this 🧡🏎️🏁

tagged: landonorris, carlossainz55 and mclaren

32,448 comments

username20: my heart…this is adorable 😭

carlossainz55: I love you, thank you for always supporting me 🧡

landonorris: the best little sister ever - you were supporting me slightly more tho, right?

ynusername: @/landonorris I support you both equally stop trying to cause trouble 🙄

carlossainz55: @/landonorris I think she supports me more judging by our celebrations last night 🫢

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 I do NOT need to know anymore details you shut your mouth 😭

carmenmmundt: sooo glad we got to catch up after so long, see you at another race soon!!

username21: I can’t cope with y/n and carlos constantly teasing lando like this

username22: poor lando watching his little sister lose all innocence in front of his eyes 😂

maxverstappen1: I keep telling you y/n…red bull is where it’s at

charles_leclerc: although I’m sure ferrari red would look good on you too…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 1,029,472 comments

carlossainz55: a weekend with my two favourite norris’ 🥺💕

tagged: landonorris and ynusername

68,304 comments

username23: the ultimate trio 🩷

username24: how has lando let carlos post that picture of him cuddling his baby sister

ynusername: I better be number one out of those two 🤔

carlossainz55: @/ynusername you’ll always be my number one (you haven’t got much competition 😂)

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 I thought what we had was special too 😂

maxverstappen1: these photos were almost cute until I noticed one of them had lando in it

username25: ofc there still ends up being loads of golf involved

username26: y/n is the luckiest getting to have carlos’ pancakes 🫠

username27: you just know in that golf photo that carlos is sharing some ott secret with y/n to put him off his shot 😂

alex_albon: ik lando is usually the third wheel…but I’m happy to third wheel these golf games 🙌🏻

landonorris: @/alex_albon invite in the post as we speak

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, ynusername and 892,204 others

carlossainz55: saying my final farewells to the fabulous team at mclaren, thank you for the best two seasons ever - unfortunately for me I’m still stuck with this giant pain in the ass as a constant third wheel in my relationship for the foreseeable 😂🥺

tagged: mclaren and landonorris

101,382 comments

landonorris: hahah you can’t get rid of me that easily

landonorris: being serious tho, I’ve loved being teammates with you, and I guess as hard as it is to say, I couldn’t be happier knowing my little sister is dating someone as wonderful as you

carlossainz55: @/landonorris stop it I’m tearing up…that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me 🥲

username28: I can’t believe we’re not going to get weekly carlando anymore

username29: nooooo how could you do this to us carlos

ynusername: ik this wasn’t an easy decision for you, but I’m excited for our next step together 💕

carlossainz55: @/ynusername thank you for being so understanding and supportive, can’t wait for what comes next! ❤️

username30: is y/n going to be moving with carlos…lando won’t be able to cope without his little sister around 💔

charles_leclerc: looking forward to welcoming you both soon - I told you you’d look good in ferrari red didn’t I y/n? 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 1,103,592 comments

carlossainz55: a few days exploring the new city that we call home 🌊😊

tagged: ynusername

53,883 comments

landonorris: the uk is still better!!

landonorris: I can’t believe you stole my baby sister from me like this

carlossainz55: @/landonorris I promise that I’ll look after her

landonorris: @/carlossainz55 just like you promised to never break my heart and leave me at mclaren?? 💔

username31: it feels strange not seeing the two of them with lando right beside them

username32: lando genuinely sounds gutted not to have them next door anymore

georgerussell63: glad to see you guys are settling in nicely 😊

charles_leclerc: can’t wait to catch up with you guys over the next couple of days

ynusername: let’s continue to make more amazing memories 💕💕

username: they both look so happy to be in italy

username33: I’m so glad y/n decided to move out with carlos

username34: my carlando heart can’t bare to see them apart

danielricciardo: can confirm lando has not stopped moaning about how lost he is without you both the past couple of days

ynusername: tell him to grow up @/danielricciardo I’m not a baby anymore

landonorris: @/ynusername STOP YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MY BABY SISTER

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 429,450 others

ynusername: the colours might have changed but my man being top of the podium remains the same 🔥🏆

tagged: carlossainz55

34,771 comments

charles_leclerc: welcome to the best team in f1!! ❤️

carlossainz55: thank you for always supporting me, cannot wait for our new adventure my love 🥰✨

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 so proud of you, excited to see you continue being the amazing man you are 🥺

username35: these pictures must be breaking lando’s heart

username36: I still think y/n looks better in papaya

danielricciardo: you two lovebirds are something else

landonorris: I never thought my own sister would betray me like this

ynusername: @/landonorris I’m still a mclaren girl at heart 🫢🧡

carlossainz55: @/ynusername I’ll pretend I didn’t just read that

lilymhe: teach me how to look as good as you in the paddock pls 🙏🏻

liked by ynusername, landonorris and 1,302,204 others

carlossainz55: carlando is still going strong (according to lando who still believes he is my favourite member of the norris family 🙄) hope this stops you feeling so jealous boo

tagged: landonorris

103,492 comments

landonorris: thank you for thinking about my feelings bby ❤️

ynusername: @/landonorris 🤮🤮🤮

username37: yay carlando lives on

username38: I always knew they’d still make time for each other

username39: has y/n been the true third wheel along

danielricciardo: you left me some big shoes to feel mate

ynusername: the two of you absolutely disgust me…but I wouldn’t have it any other way

 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[lowkeyrobin]

Hawk x sensitive!reader where even after he becomes all "tough" and "badass" he's still gentle with reader. I just need fluff and everything is so sickly sweet like I want my teeth to rot.

- ♠️

(again i forgot which one it was)

YES OMG ☹️☹️☹️☹️ ; I'm screaming and crying were gonna fight wtf ; thank u for requesting some cobra kai stuff love u bae ; also sorry ab this cause I had no idea what to do here

HAWK MOSKOWITZ ; the one i love

summary ; while hawk is off becoming mean and badass, he's still nice to you, knowing you're kind of sensitive, and he doesn't want to lose his s/o

warnings ; language, talk of physical violence

track ; dedicated to the one i love, the mamas & the papas

word count ; 849

masterlist

Eli, these past few months, had changed. A lot. You didn't know whether you liked it or not either. He wasn't even Eli anymore, he was Hawk.

He'd taken on karate, got a new haircut, and completely changed his demeanor and personality. You couldn't lie, he looked cool, especially while showing off his moves, but what wasn't cool was him getting into unnecessary drama.

You'd seen some things online, though you tend not to stick around for any of it. You were caught up by Eli himself, considering you did online school. The bullying from Sam LaRusso and her friends had gotten too bad long ago, forcing you to hide away for the rest of your high school career.

You considered this transition good for Eli, as he was turning a new page in his story. He was able to defend himself, he was confident, and he wasn't being bullied anymore. But, at the same time, he was unrecognizable.

It wasn't in a bad way, not yet, at least. But this "Hawk" guy, wasn't your boyfriend, Eli. You fell into the arms of Eli Moskowitz, not Hawk.

Thankfully, he knew how to retain his relationship. Thank God his standards didn't raise, nor did his ego, as he changed.

You were slightly sensitive, you'd say, kind of emotional, mentally thin, maybe.

You had a bad day, though. That's all that mattered in this second.

You were trying to deep clean your room because it was nasty, and you were already mad. Nothing was working how you wanted it to. Your grades were dropping because you were becoming depressed and unmotivated, and you just wanted to see your boyfriend again. But of course, he'd been busy with karate and working out.

You yell out of pure frustration as you throw a pillow across the room toward your door before crashing onto your bed.

"Ow"

You quickly look up to see Eli standing in your doorway, having been hit by that pillow.

"Fuck, sorry" You mumble, proceeding to hide your face in another pillow that lays on your bed.

He slowly and cautiously steps in your room, picking up the thrown cushion. "What's wrong?"

"...Bad day"

He frowns, "What's wrong?"

You look up at him, spiky hair immediately catching your attention. "Can you wash out the gel before talking to me? You're intimidating looking like a badass"

He chuckles with a nod, "Yeah, I'll be right back"

You couldn't stand the mohawk. It intimidated you, like you were gonna be the next victim of his karate moves. He understood as you'd been honest about it long ago, and would often wash out his hair in the sink and use a towel to then dry his hair.

Now, his roots were dark brown, while the midsection to ends were bright blue. You'd helped him dye it, the reasoning why the bathroom sink was just barely stained with blue in the bowl.

He re-enters the room, his hair now damp, but un-styled. He sits on the bed beside you, allowing you to sit in silence with a pillow pressed against your face.

You slowly pull it away, looking up at him. You flop your back onto your mattress, staring at the ceiling.

"What's up?" He asks, his eyes gazing upon your tired and stressed expression.

You shrug, sitting up. "I hate online school, I have essentially no friends or hobbies, my proctors are shoving thirty assignments on me while I'm depressed and I need to do a million fucking other things-"

He quickly pulls you into a hug, silencing you. You accept his hug, arms draped around his shoulders as you rest your head on one of his shoulders. He does the same for you, his arms slung around your torso instead.

You groan, hiding your face from the light.

He lightly rubs your back, just trying to show you some comfort.

He speaks up after a solid minute of silence, letting you calm yourself down. "Do you want to get into karate? Or at least meet my friends? A lot of them would really like to meet you"

You shrug, unsure.

"It's okay if you don't want to"

You shrug again, your words mumbled from between his shoulder. "What if they don't like me cause I'm not like them?"

He smiles, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "Trust me, they're not gonna make fun of you or not like you in any way unless you give them a reason. And that in itself is pretty much impossible"

You nod, "Thanks"

"Is there any way I can help with your school stuff? What needs done? What can I do for you?"

"Calm down, Eli. I'll be fine. It's just when there's a lot on my mind, I stress out for no reason I guess. Like, I know everything'll be okay but... I dunno" You shrug, pulling away from his arms. "But thank you"

He nods, laying down on the bed beside you. "You tired? I am"

You nod with a smile, pulling him close to cuddle with him.

"Agh- your grip is insane!"

"Sorry"

[mrs-weasley-reid]

DOCTORS ACROSS THE HALL

Spencer Reid x psychiatrist!reader

Synopsis: Sleep-deprived and traumatized, Spencer Reid attempts to pin the blame on his innocent new neighbor (he can't). Word Count: 2k+ Warning: meet cute-ish(?) fluff(?) i'm not sure anymore, lol. light mentions of death and trauma. a few curses. not proofread !!!! A/N: inspired by S2 x E14 & 15, we all know what i mean hehe

Spencer Reid's eyes are dry.

Each blink is a terrifying journey. Afraid that he'll go back in the past—in that hut—in between the millisecond of closing his eyes.

He's seeing nothing but blurry darkness, and yet he can still feel Tobias Hankel's shaky palms across the skin of his arm.

"It helps."

"Trust me."

The same four words ring in Spencer's ears, encouraging pain—paranoia.

"It helps."

"Trust me."

With every breath Spencer takes, they hitch in the middle of his throat. Forever stuck and dies there with no trace of hope for the next generation of traveling air.

Hope that he'll be able to breathe without tugging aches all over his chest is long gone.

No man would ever be the same had they been in the situation he went through. He can't help but feel weak. And it's eating Spencer alive to the point of deliberate insomnia.

He doesn't remember the last time he'd ever slept like a normal person.

"It helps."

Knock, knock.

"Trust me."

Knock, knock, knock.

Spencer opens his eyes. He's not sure when slumber took over his mind or if he even participated in sleep at all. Chances are he was too dissociated from reality that he's left his body frozen for a while. Nonetheless, in the little time he spent in serene blankness, only one emotion brews in him.

Anger.

Who in their right minds would go out knocking at—Spencer glances at the clock on his nightstand—2 AM?

Knock, knock, KNOCK—

It stops.

A creak echoes in the hall as muffled voices scratch Spencer's ears. He can't make out the words, only the wave of the softest and gentlest whispers he's ever heard.

On a different day, he may have let it go. Hell, a different him would have let it go.

The Spencer from one week ago would have let it go.

The Spencer who never felt so nauseous at the sight of his own blood along the canvas of his temple. The Spencer with an awkward grin without the baggage of Tobias Hankel's torture over his shoulders.

The Spencer he used to be.

But despite everyone's loving support. Despite the bragging rights he gained for surviving a serial killer. No one can loosen the throttling chokehold of trauma around his neck. Not even him.

Spencer catches himself clenching his fists too tight. Crescent indentations sting on his palm—nostalgic and unsettling. He only grits his jaw at the thought. And comes in the invigorating vibrations all over his chest.

There it is again.

The useless anger.

A loaded gun with no target.

The man is dead. Tobias Hankel is dead.

Spencer wonders about the use of his boiling anger when the person he loathes is already rotting in his grave.

Without any other outlet to unleash the colossal mass of suppressed rage brewing inside of him, Spencer makes good use of one of the most common defense mechanisms: displacement.

Maybe screaming at someone will deflate the tightness across his chest and clear his mind a bit in the form of self-loathing after he realizes the grave immaturity of his plan.

He lifts his body off his mattress, swinging his legs on the side of his bed as he methodically rubs his eyes against the lamp's brightness. Strands of his hair go array around the vertical circumference of his head like an electric halo.

A huff pulses off his lips. He swallows a lump of thick air as he weighs his next moves.

Part of Spencer died in that cemetery. What difference does it make if he screams at the world? If he screams at—

His brows furrow, eyes narrow, and ears perk.

It's different this time.

Irritating knocks. Opening door. Muffled whispering. Closing door. Then quiet for an hour.

That has been a constant for the past five days. A constant routine that he felt indifferent about but somehow grew annoyed by.

But it's different this time.

The door across the hall didn't close.

And it's been five minutes.

Before Spencer knows it, his hand turns the knob and swings the door open.

Two women across from him. They are in the middle of what seems to be a tight hug before one bids her goodbye and lightly runs down the stairs.

Spencer watches as the other disappears down the lower level. Anger morphs into confusion.

"Did we bother you?"

He jolts back, snapping his gaze to the woman across. "What?"

You smile apologetically, "I'm sorry about the noise—"

"Dr. Spencer Reid," He spits. Spencer's forehead creases. He wonders what prompted his mouth to openly provide his full name to a stranger, specifically when the information was not asked for.

"Oh," You blink, lightly jumping on your toes. An unseen glint sparks in your eyes. You introduce yourself as a response, a lot less threatening than he did but equally awkward. You smile again. Sweetly, this time. Like you're looking at a puppy.

Spencer's brows bounce over his forehead as the hand over his doorknob loosens. "You're a doctor?" He inquires.

You nod, "Mhm, what are the odds, right?" You chuckle. The sound echoes around the quiet hall.

"11.76%."

"What?"

"The odds—" Spencer scratches the back of his neck, "—it's 11.76%. There are fourteen tenants in this building, including you. We both found out we're doctors, and I know none of our neighbors are. Most of the neighbors are living alone besides the old couple on the first floor, but I know none of them are doctors. That's two in fifteen people. So 11.76%. But now I realize you weren't being literal about it..." Heat rushes against the skin of his face.

Silence hovers between the two of you. He feels more awake than he was minutes ago for an entirely different reason—embarrassment. Spencer wishes that some sort of earthquake would open up the floor and swallow him.

"Interesting," You finally speak, changing the leg where you placed your weight. "I tried calculating it myself and got the same result. You were right."

His mouth falls agape. A surge of warmth strikes his chest. "You were calculating?" Spencer squints, rubbing an eye out of habit due to his current predicament and baffled by your antic all the same.

You nod again, "Just cause you're my neighbor doesn't mean I'll just take your word for it, you know. But I have to admit, it was cool that you figured that out in a second. You have my respect." You flash a playful smile, hugging your chest at the sudden draft.

"Ahh," Spencer steps back into his apartment. The tinge of giddiness is quickly replaced by sleep deprivation and anxiety. A hand throws itself into the cavity of his eye socket, pushing it close to remove the pain that's settling in.

Flashes of bright light blind him in the dark shade of his eyelids. Frustration swiftly creeps over his shoulders. Like he's drowning above water, tied down, and has no air to gasp for. Panic begins to paralyze him. All seems lost, and darkness slowly—

"Would you like some tea?"

Spencer blinks, lifting his gaze back at you as your soft smile slowly adjusts his sight.

"I have a new brand of tea I've been dying to open. Would you like some?" You repeat, tilting your head a bit as you await a response. When you don't get one, you add, "I promise I don't bite." And your heart flutters at the little twitch at the ends of his lips.

He concludes you're roughly two weeks fresh from moving in. Here you are, inviting a stranger in the middle of the night to enjoy tea inside your home.

Seems reckless.

Idiotic.

But Spencer doesn't say no.

He walks towards you like he's leaving a world to explore another. Anxiety slowly dissipates with each step he takes. A contrast of what he feels each second that passes while he lies awake.

You step aside to give him way. "Grab a seat—" you gesture towards the kitchen -island-slash-dining-table, "—The girl you saw usually stays longer, so I already heat some water. Is chamomile okay?" You talk as you maneuver around your small kitchen.

Spencer finds a seat closest to the door. For all he knows, you're the serial killer on your end of the skeptical assumptions in his head.

"Nice apartment," He says out of the obligatory guest etiquette. Spencer takes in every bit of your reflection in your home.

It's inviting. Warm and cozy. The hint of oat and lavender whiffs past his nose. Your place is adorned with small, warm lights, brightening each corner with sunset tones.

Your chuckle brings his attention back to you. "Don't be shy, Dr. Reid," You glance at him over your shoulder. "It's messy. You can say it."

"If a couple of books on your table is messy to you, you should see my side of the building."

Spencer straightens up as confusion spreads over his face.

How do you do that?

Make him feel comfortable with words and a gentle voice. Everyone on his team has been doing the same exact thing, but somehow, you get something out of him without further prompting.

The image of your coffee table pops in his head. Cultural Psychology. Learning Psychotherapy. Trauma and Dreams. And a few more books that clocks his interest in you further down the rabbit hole.

"You're a psychologist," He announces into the air.

"Psychiatrist, actually," You place a mug in front of Spencer, finding a seat across from him. "But what gave it away? The tea or the messy apartment?" You ask into your mug that says 'you're purrfect' in pink lowercase and has a cat’s paw under the lettering. A playful smile is curving your lips.

Spencer accepts the blue mug, brows rising at the police box outlined image over the blue stain. He wouldn’t have expected you as a fan of Doctor Who, but who’s he to judge? A part of him wants to discuss common interests, but he doesn’t feel comfortable enough to change the subject.

"T-the books." He says hesitantly, uncertain whether the art of observation has marked him a creep right at that moment.

You hum, "Thought I would've been more mysterious than that." You chuckle, pulling a leg against your chest. "And you?" You inquire back.

"I have three PhDs," Spencer shares shyly, breaking eye contact masked as drinking your quite tasteful tea. He notes to ask the brand you're so enthusiastic about later on.

"Three?" Your eyes glisten under the warm light.

He nods.

"Let me guess, 190."

"190?"

"Your IQ," You lean back against the table, "My guess is you graduated young. Went to high school, college, and graduate school as a puppy." You add, amping with adoration over the new information.

"A puppy is a strong word, but yes," Spencer blushes now, hoping the small lighting leans in his favor to hide the red tint over every bit of his skin. “And just 187, not that big of a deal.”

"Just 187? You're just being humble, right?" You giggle, "I bet some prestigious agency hired you at a young age, and you're called the genius kid." You jest, genuinely interested in him more than ever.

More like the boy genius. But can’t possibly expose himself more than you already did out of sheer lucky guesses. Spencer avoids meeting your eyes like it's the plague. "You awfully guess a lot..."

You gasp, placing your mug on the table, "Shut up! I was close, was I? Oh my gosh!" You're laughing now, utterly comfortable to show quirks that people you just met shouldn't see yet. "I'm good at this. I think I'll be okay later, then." You say to yourself, nodding in satisfaction.

"For what?" Spencer chimes, troubles slipping away to the back of his mind and the sound of your hush laughter lulling him. It might be the tea or the possibility that you'd drugged him, but his body felt light for the first time in weeks. He doesn't have any complaints.

"I moved here for a job," You start attentively, making sure that you don't share too much. "But I have people. They'll search for me in case you turn out to be a serial killer."

His brows jump, "How do I know you're not the serial killer? Women can be one, too. And statistically, women who are serial killers are attractive."

"Are you saying I'm attractive, Dr. Reid?"

"I—" Spencer freezes, heat flowing to his ears. "I-I was making a point—" He cuts himself off. He wonders when the earthquake he's wished for earlier is coming to save him from embarrassment.

You stay silent, reveling in his stuttering voice.

"Is that coffee? I thought you made tea." He changes the subject—poorly.

You don't mind it one bit, indulging at the sight of his pinkish ears covered by his unruly hair. "I invited you for tea. I didn't say I'll drink one with you." You take a sip of the caffeine, rubbing the idea on his face.

Spencer responds with a subtle roll of his eyes that makes you chuckle more than intended. "Why coffee at three in the morning?" He asks gently, not wanting to step over any boundaries.

"I'm supposed to start my job later. I heard my patients need a lot of assistance, so I need to study and make sure I give them the right help."

"That sounds noble," He yawns, the first of many.

Spencer never thought your smile could get any sweeter, "I haven't officially met them yet. So, I really wish it goes well."

It might be the chamomile tea with a hint of honey finally working in his veins, but Spencer thinks you're beaming like an angel descending from the skies.

He yawns, and you giggle once more, "I think you should go to sleep, Dr. Reid."

“Yeah, yeah, I should,” Spencer’s eyebrows collide at the sadness in his chest. His body feels comfortable in his seat. Getting out of it feels like torture. 

You both stand from your seats, walking him towards the door. 

Spencer turns around before he closes his, a sleepy smile on his face. "Thanks for the tea," He yawns, a hand covering his mouth.

“You’re— hold on, give me one second,” You turn around and back inside your apartment. He can’t see you but can hear your light footsteps on the floorboards as you run to your coffee table and back inside the frame of your front door. 

Spencer patiently waits as you walk to his end of the hall, take his hand out, and hand him a heart lollipop. 

“Take this. They help with the bad craving,” You advertise as you walk backward. Before he completely shuts the door, you call for him, "Oh, and Dr. Reid."

Spencer swings the door open back wider, "Yes?"

"I think you're attractive too."

reid masterlist | masterlist

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hashira reader smacking Zenitsu and sending him to her crush Iguro to teach him a lesson

original idea and inspiration by none other than queen @sitarawrites and this post right here

Pairing: Obanai x fem!hashira! reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Warnings: Zenitsu being a creep and getting payback for it

„Please, you have to give me a chance!“

„Zenitsu, I think that’s enough-„

„You have to be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen! Let’s marry as long as we’re still alive!”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone, you creep?”

“I’m so so sorry for his behavior-“

“What’s going on here?”, you interrupt the little chit chat in front of you sharply.

You sign to yourself. Just like you expected, another wave of losers that just arrived. 2 girls, a few of those basic guys and…

You furrow your eyebrows, a wave of nauseous disgust getting a hold of you the second you see him. That blonde haired guy who looks at you as if you’re a piece of meat.

“Oh, who are-“

Without even allowing him so finish his sentence, you grab his blonde hair with one hand while smacking him flat-palmed with the other.

“Just let me make a few things clear before we’re even starting”, you hiss, mindlessly dropping his crying figure to the ground.

“If you didn’t catch it already, I’m a hashira and you are here to train under me. But I’m not like Mitsuri or my former master Himejima-sama. We won’t pray around here, we won’t laugh. But most important of all, don’t you dare to piss me off by disregarding me in some sort of way. Got it, Blondie?”

“I think he understood, (y/n)-san!”, the red-haired boy next to him shouts immediately while throwing his unconscious body over his shoulder.

“I know you’re still listening. If I catch you hitting on a corps member like that one more time, I’ll burry you under rocks before sending you over to Igoro-san”, you bark at the boy who again, screams out in sheer fright.

Apparently, his horrible behavior towards females isn’t the only annoying thing about that guy named Zenitsu. If it wasn’t for Kamado, he’d hide inside his room the whole day while crying his eyes out.

“I promise he acts different when he’s unconscious!”

“Do I have to slap him again, then?”

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

Urgh. If it wasn’t for that crow sent by Ubayishiki-sama himself, you would have drowned that boy in the river nearby immediately. And that nice little interactions with a certain someone.

“If he doesn’t treat you right, send him my way. I’ll make sure he’ll never cry again.”

“Nice try Iguro-san. But Ubayishiki-sama forbid me to hurt him and I’m sure the same goes for you, unfortunately.”

“Is he still looking at you all the time? Then it might be worth it.”

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t. But if I catch him crying around like a baby one last time, I’ll send him to you personally.”

“I’ll take that as a promise, then.”

You smile to yourself while reading those well-written lines. Igoru-san…truth is, you definitely kept an eye open for him these past months. Out of all the hashira, he’s the only one you’re really keen to talk to.

“Ahhh, it’s so cold!”

“Zentisu, calm down. Don’t you remember what (y/n)-san told you about-“

“I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE! THIS IS LIVING HELL! THAT WOMAN IS THE DEVIL HERSELF! I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE TANJIRO!”

“Please calm down-“

“I’M SURE THE GIRLS AT THE BUTTERFLY ESTATE MISS ME, I’LL JUST RETURN TO AOI AND THE GIRLS-“

“You’re not going anywhere, you fool. I’m having enough of your bullshit”, you interrupt his pity party along with a harsh bow into his stomach that surely makes him see stars.

“I’m sending you to Iguro myself.”

Another well-placed hit, a passed out Zenitsu before you even get the chance to hit him.

“Please, allow me to go with you, (y/n)-san. I don’t think Zenitsu will survive the training of the serpent hashira on his own”, a gently voice speaks out next to you.

Urgh. You hate to even consider Tanjiro’s words. But there’s nothing you’re able to teach him anyway. No matter how much you hate to admit it, but that Kamado boy definitely is something special.

“Fine”, you grumble.

“But only because I want to get rid of you.”

“That’s totally fine! Thank you for teaching me hand to hand combat anyway!”

“Yeah, whatever. Just carry that prick and follow me.”

Your heart beats a little faster with every step you come nearer to the serpent hashira’s estate. How is he doing? Is he excited to see you, what will he say? You haven’t seen each other since the last hashira meeting, didn’t have the chance to speak properly since forever as it seems.

But now is your chance. When it means seeing Iguro-san, that douchebag did have a purpose after all.

“Did you take out the trash, (y/n)?”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. You didn’t even sense him until he stands in front of you, both eyes set on you with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I can’t take that whining baby anymore. Make sure to treat him right”, you explain briefly.

“Oh, and I took Kamado with me.”

“Tanjiro Kamado”, Iguro-san hisses, his eyes shooting pure venom Tanjiro’s way.

“Bring that useless boy inside and get some rest yourself, Kamado”, you instruct the boy next to you who springs into action immediately.

“He’s doing pretty well”, you mumble more to yourself than actually talking to Iguro-san.

“Doing pretty well?”

Faster than you’re able to react, you find yourself breathlessly pinned against a nearby tree with his eyes almost piercing trough you.

“I mean…yeah”, you breathe out.

“But I actually came here because I missed you”, you add with unusual low voice.

Is that blush creeping up your cheeks? The serpent hashira almost doesn’t believe his ears. You, missing him? He never thought you’d actually like him, that feelings like missing someone like him could actually exist. But you hold his gaze with reddened cheeks. And you’re here, between his arms.

“I…”

He kind find the words. In fact, it seems like his mind and body aren’t able to function normally anymore.

“I need to go”, he presses out.

“But Iguro-san, I-“

He’s gone as fast as he came, leaving yourself leaning against the tree like an idiot.

What was that?

-bonus-

“I’ll let you suffer for making (y/n) uncomfortable. Did you flirt with her?”

“W-what? Me? I’d never d-do that!”

“I’ll kill you-“

“Please don’t kill him Iguro-san!”

“I’ll kill you as well. You made eyes at (y/n)-san.”

“We’re so screwed”, Zenitsu hisses through gritted teeth.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

[deansbeer]

where the waves rest easy ⎯⎯ DEAN WINCHESTER.

⎯⎯ you and dean take the kids to the beach, where he opens up about his past, his love for you, and the life you've built together after leaving hunting behind.

♡ KARI YAPS! @deanswidow also contributed a tiny lil idea 4 this so dedicating this 2 her <3 ur dean's babygirl bc it felt right 🤍 love u pooks !!!!!

♡ WARNING(S) fluff | angst | family bonding | mentions of past violence | major character death (pls dont hate me I’ll cry) | grief. mdni ♱ 18 plus. adult content.

📖 JACKLES library.

IT'S BEEN TWO YEARS SINCE DEAN QUIT HUNTING.

two years since he put the colt and his sawed-off shotgun away for good. since he walked away from the life that had defined him for so long. since he said goodbye to the monsters, the blood, and the constant weight of death hanging over him.

two years since sam died.

god, you still catch him looking at the horizon sometimes, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists like he's bracing himself for something—like he's expecting the next apocalypse to come knocking at your front door. but it never does.

because dean walked away.

he walked away for you. for your family. for SAMMY, the little boy with his brother's name and his father's stubbornness. for JEMMA, the baby girl who's only been on this earth eight months and already has DEAN WINCHESTER wrapped around her tiny fingers. he walked away because he couldn't do it anymore—because burying his brother nearly killed him, and he knew if he didn't stop, he'd be burying you next. or the kids. or himself.

and you know sam would've wanted this for him. he would've wanted dean to have what they'd always dreamed about when they were kids: a home, a family, a life that wasn't overshadowed by death and duty.

so dean quit.

he got a job as a firefighter, of all things—because of course he did. being a firefighter lets him save people without the baggage of what came with hunting. it's hard work, but it's honest work, and it keeps his hands busy. it keeps his mind busy, too, most of the time. and you? you're a kindergarten teacher, which means your days are filled with crayons, storytime, and glue-sticked chaos.

it's not the life he ever thought he'd have—hell, it's not the life he ever thought he deserved—but he loves it. he loves you. he loves his kids. and even on the hard days, when the itch to hunt creeps up on him, or when he sees something on the news that makes his instincts scream at him to grab his gun, he reminds himself why he stopped. why he has to stay.

because this is worth it.

you and the kids are worth it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

it's a friday when DEAN suggests going to the beach.

you both decided to take a day off—something rare, since your lives are usually so busy between work and the kids. but today, the sun is shining, the weather's perfect, and dean woke up with that lopsided grin you love so much, the one that makes him look ten years younger.

"whaddya think?" he asks as he pours you a cup of coffee, jemma balanced on his hip like she's always belonged there. "a beach day? sammy's been talking about it all week, and i think the squirt here could use her first dip in the ocean, don't you?"

you laugh, taking the coffee from him and leaning up to kiss his cheek. "sounds perfect."

so you pack up BABY with towels, sunscreen, a cooler full of snacks, and all the other million things you need when you have two kids under three. sammy's bouncing with excitement the entire drive, and jemma babbles happily from her car seat, her chubby hands reaching for DEAN every time he glances back to check on her. what a daddy's girl.

when you finally get to the beach, the first thing you notice is how peaceful it is. it's not too crowded—just a few families scattered along the sand, kids building castles and couples lounging under umbrellas.

and you can tell the moment DEAN steps onto the sand that this place means something to him.

you've been here before, of course—this is where he proposed to you. but there's something about the way he looks at the water, the way he takes a deep breath like he's letting go of something heavy, that makes you realize just how much this spot actually means to him.

"you okay, baby?" you ask softly, slipping your hand into his.

he turns to you, and for a moment, the smile he gives you is so FULL of love it makes your chest ache. "yeah, sweetheart," he says. "just… this place. it kinda reminds me why i'm here, y'know?"

you nod, squeezing his hand. and then sammy tugs on his leg, demanding to go play in the water, and DEAN laughs, scooping him up and spinning him around before setting him down and chasing after him.

you watch them run toward the waves, and your heart feels so full it might burst.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a little while later, you're walking along the shore with him, jemma cradled in his arms. sammy's still splashing in the water, his laughter carried on the breeze, and you can't help but smile as you watch him. he really is a miniature version of DEAN—same green eyes, same freckles, same mischievous grin.

"he's got your stubbornness, too," you say, nudging DEAN with your shoulder.

he chuckles. "yeah, well, he gets that from both of us, sweetheart. don't kid yourself."

you laugh, leaning your head against his bicep as you walk. the sand is warm beneath your feet, the waves lapping gently at the shore, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

"you remember why i proposed to you here?" he asks suddenly, his voice soft.

you look up at him, surprised. "of course i do. but i wouldn't mind hearing it again."

he smiles, his eyes distant for a moment as he looks out at the water. "it was right after we found out sammy was on the way," he says. "i was scared out of my fucking mind, if i'm being honest. not about you—about being a dad. about screwing it all up. but then we came here, and you were sitting right there"—he nods toward a spot near the water—"and you just looked so… happy. like you weren't worried about anything. and i realized that if i was gonna do this—if i was gonna have a family, a real life—it had to be with you. because you make everything better, y'know? even when it's scary. especially when it's scary."

his voice cracks a little at the end, and you blink back tears, reaching up to cup his face. "baby…"

"i mean it," he says, his voice rough. "you saved me, sweetheart. you and the kids—you're the reason i'm still here. the reason i didn't just… give up after sam."

you kiss him then, pouring everything you feel into it. he kisses you back, jemma squirming a little between you but not enough to break the moment.

when you finally pull away, you're both smiling, and for the first time in a long time, you see nothing but peace in his eyes.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

the rest of the day is spent soaking up the sun, building sandcastles, and chasing sammy around the beach. DEAN lets him bury him in the sand at one point, laughing as both SAMMY and JEMMA work together to pile sand on top of him.

"i think they're plotting against me," he says, grinning up at you from his sandy grave.

"probably," you reply, laughing as jemma pats a handful of sand onto his chest.

as the sun starts to set, dean takes both kids down to the water to look for crabs. sammy's eyes light up every time he spots one, and jemma claps her hands excitedly, even though you're pretty sure she doesn't know what's going on.

you watch them from a distance, your hand resting on your stomach. it's still early—you haven't told DEAN yet—but you know he'll be just as thrilled as you are when he finds out you're expecting again.

watching him with SAMMY and JEMMA, seeing the way he lights up around them, there's no doubt in your mind that he was meant to be a dad.

and as you sit there, watching the man you love with the family you've built together, you realize that this is what happiness looks like.

it's not perfect—it's messy and chaotic and sometimes downright exhausting—but it's yours.

and you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

later that night, after the kids are asleep and the house is quiet, DEAN pulls you into his arms.

"thank you," he whispers, his voice barely audible in the darkness.

"for what?" you ask, resting your head against his chest.

"for this," he says, his hand moving to rest over your stomach. "for giving me a reason to keep going. for giving me a family."

you smile, tears pricking at your eyes again. "you don't have to thank me for that, my love. you've given me just as much."

he presses a kiss to your forehead, holding you close. and as you drift off to sleep, you can't help but think about how far you've both come—how far he's come.

because DEAN WINCHESTER may have walked away from hunting, but he's still a hero.

he's YOUR hero.

and he always will be.

♡ SPECIAL TAGS. @beausling @a1ecmcdowell @jasvtsc @titsout4nicholas @aileenunfiltered @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @archiveofvirtue @ultravi0lence14 @rubyvhs @ohsc . . . ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

[togenabi]

pick me up

roronoa zoro (opla) x reader

♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.

word count♡— 3.2k

genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader

content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!

“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing. 

“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”

Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed. 

“Because they were overbored!” 

Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes. 

You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”

The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”

“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”

“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.

Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”

The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.

“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.

The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince. 

“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”

“...”

“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.

Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”

“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”

Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.

“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?

But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.

“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group. 

“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.

You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.

“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.

“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.

“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.

“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze. 

“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”

Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.

Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.

You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”

“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.

“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure. 

Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him. 

Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”

You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”

“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.

“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”

Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.

Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards. 

The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”

Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”

You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”

Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink. 

Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.

You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.

“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.” 

And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.

“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you. 

As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.

“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.

“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”

You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.

“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”

You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”

Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”

That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”

She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”

“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”

“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”

You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”

“Of course, my gem.”

“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”

The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.

After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.

“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”

“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.

“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”

“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”

“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.

“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.

You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.

…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?

“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”

“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”

You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.

But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.

You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”

Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”

You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.

Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”

The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.

You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.” 

“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.

“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.

“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”

Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.

“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit. 

“I’d like that.” 

Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.

He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.

In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”

Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.

Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”

“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.

“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.

“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”

Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”

Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.

“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”

“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”

“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.” 

Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”

Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.

“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”

Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion. 

“I have an idea.”

When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart. 

But unfortunately for you, he had other plans. 

You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”

“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?

You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now. 

But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?

“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.” 

You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?

“...Can I be part of your future?”

That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.

No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did. 

“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.

“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“You said I always stick to your side.”

He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”

“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”

That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”

Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”

His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else... 

“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.

Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders. 

“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing. 

“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.

After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.

“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter. 

“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise. 

You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.

“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.

Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)

“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.

“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.

“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”

“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

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[littlelamy]

Rafe x Reader request: They’ve been going on a few dates, with Rafe in the hopes to get in in her pants. Rafe has been more of a fuckboy, lots of experience, kicks girls out as soon as it’s done and have they been inexperienced – he’s kicked them out straight away before anything happens, not having any energy to ‘’teach’’. Cue to Reader and him about to get intimate, she confesses to being a virgin and he kicks her out. HOWEVER……he this time feels like absolute shit about seeing how sad she got and realizes he has fallen for her….and he tries to fix it (happy ending)

a/n: thank you for request, hope you like it!!💗

rafe cameron was never one to think much beyond the moment. he didn’t overanalyze his hookups, didn’t question why they always left with messy hair and no promises of a second date. he had a rhythm to his life, and it worked for him. girls came and went, his phone a revolving door of contacts he didn’t even bother saving half the time.

until you showed up.

it wasn’t just that you were beautiful—plenty of girls were. but you had this quiet confidence about you, a way of looking at him that didn’t scream take me home now. you made him work for your attention, your time, your smiles. and god, he wanted to work for it.

the first few dates were surprisingly normal. no wild nights, no sneaky excuses to get you alone in his room. you made him laugh, made him feel something he hadn’t in years—light, easy, like he could just be rafe without any expectations. but tonight, as you sat on his couch, sipping wine and smiling at him in that way that made his chest ache, rafe couldn’t ignore the tension humming between you any longer.

he leaned in, testing the waters with a soft brush of his lips against yours. when you didn’t pull away, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands sliding to your waist. you melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, and that was all the invitation he needed.

rafe pulled you closer, his hands wandering beneath your shirt, his kisses growing more urgent. but just as his fingers brushed against the clasp of your bra, you stiffened, pulling back suddenly.

“wait,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

rafe froze, his hands stilling as he searched your face. “what’s wrong?”

you bit your lip, looking anywhere but at him. “i… i need to tell you something.”

his heart sank, the worst possibilities flashing through his mind. “what is it?”

“i’ve never done this before,” you said quietly, barely audible.

the words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. rafe blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. “you mean…?”

“i’m a virgin,” you clarified, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

the room suddenly felt too small, too quiet. rafe sat back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process. a virgin. you were a virgin. he hadn’t expected that. he hadn’t planned for that.

“shit,” he muttered under his breath.

you pulled your knees to your chest, your voice small. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you sooner.”

“no, it’s not…” rafe trailed off, shaking his head. “it’s not your fault. it’s just… i don’t think i’m the right guy for this.”

your eyes shot up to meet his, wide with confusion and hurt. “what do you mean?”

“i mean… i don’t think i can give you what you deserve for your first time,” he said, his voice hollow. “you should be with someone who can… i don’t know, make it special or whatever. someone who knows how to handle that.”

the words tasted bitter as he said them, but he convinced himself it was the right thing to do. he wasn’t the guy for you, not for something this big. he couldn’t risk screwing it up.

you stood abruptly, grabbing your bag. “i see.”

“wait—”

“no, it’s fine,” you interrupted, your voice trembling as you headed for the door. “thanks for letting me know where we stand.”

rafe didn’t stop you. he didn’t know how. the door clicked shut behind you, and the silence that followed was deafening.

the guilt hit him almost immediately.

rafe spent the next few days trying to ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach, but it was useless. every time he closed his eyes, he saw the hurt on your face, the way your voice cracked when you said thanks for letting me know where we stand.

he tried to tell himself he did the right thing. he wasn’t equipped for this. he wasn’t worthy of this. but that reasoning felt thinner with every passing hour.

by the third sleepless night, he couldn’t take it anymore.

you weren’t expecting to see rafe when you opened the door. he stood there with a sheepish expression, holding a bouquet of flowers that looked suspiciously last-minute.

“hi,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “what do you want?”

“i came to apologize.”

“for what?” you asked, your tone sharp.

“for being a fucking idiot,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush. “i handled things wrong, and i know i hurt you. i didn’t mean to, but i did, and i’m sorry.”

you stared at him, your defenses still firmly in place. “why now?”

rafe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “because i haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. because i was wrong to push you away, and i hate that i made you feel like i didn’t care.”

your heart softened despite yourself, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “and what happens if i let you back in? do you just push me away again the second things get complicated?”

“no,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “i won’t. i swear. i just… i freaked out because i’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it scared the hell out of me. but i’m done running from it. from you.”

the vulnerability in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes, made your resolve crack. slowly, you stepped aside, letting him in.

rafe didn’t rush you after that.

he was patient in a way you hadn’t expected, taking the time to get to know you in ways that had nothing to do with sex. he remembered the little things you told him—your favorite coffee order, the song that always made you cry, the way you liked your eggs in the morning.

and gradually, the walls between you began to crumble.

it was weeks later, on a quiet friday night, that things came full circle. you were sitting on his couch again, your legs tucked under you as you watched a movie. his arm was draped casually over your shoulders, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on your skin.

when you turned to look at him, he was already watching you, his gaze soft and warm.

“what?” you asked, smiling.

“nothing,” he said, his lips twitching into a grin. “you’re just really fucking cute.”

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed. “shut up.”

he didn’t. instead, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate. his hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face to deepen the kiss.

this time, when his hands wandered, you didn’t stop him.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

you nodded, your eyes locked on his. “i’m sure.”

rafe didn’t rush. he took his time, every touch, every kiss deliberate and reverent. he didn’t just want you—he wanted to make you feel safe, cherished.

and when it was over, he didn’t pull away. instead, he held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if letting go would mean losing you all over again.

for the first time in his life, rafe cameron didn’t feel the need to run. he didn’t feel the need for anyone else.

he just wanted you.

and he wasn’t going to mess it up again.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl l @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[karaeilishh]

have you ever tried this one?

dom!sabrina carpenter x sub!fem!reader

warnings: smut, strap, oral, degradation?, mommy kink, hella teasing

a/n - some of you wanted a switch!sabrina and i’m gonna write for her later, but for now just enjoy sucking her strap

inglewood was a nondescript town you always wanted to see. see with your girlfriend, holding hands and entwining your fingers. so when you found out that sabrina will be performing in this town in the future, you jumped up excitedly, throwing your arms around her neck and muttering something like, “you’re the best girlfriend ever!”

but here you are, and the days leading up to her concert were too busy with preparation, for you and sabrina to get out of the hotel to go to a restaurant or just take a leisurely stroll around the city together. all you had now were quick kisses before she had to go on stage again and soft cuddles before a three-hour nap and an empty bed the next morning.

you missed sabrina so much. her kisses on your skin, her hands on your body, her sweet voice when she softly moans your name in your ear, her warmth, your little intimate moments, you missed her all. and most of all, the moments when she took control. damn, you love it.

"come on baby…" no matter how little time you spent together, you were grateful to be with your girlfriend during her tour. you could always see her and catch the air kisses she blew you while her makeup artist worked on her makeup. you loved the moments when in a huge crowd, her eyes were glued to you for a few seconds. just a few seconds, but her mind was definitely constantly around you. you knew that no matter how many people she looked at during each concert, eventually her eyes would return to you. and her hands too. at night.

you swallowed hard when you saw sabrina's smile on the big screen at the beginning of ‘juno’. oh, that smile was just for you. you, like all the thousands of fans next to you, could only guess what pose she would show now and it really made you nervous. you needed her so much that you only had to think about it to get excited.

your vision is blurry as she runs to the edge of the stage. your stomach dropped as she knelt down. your mouth went dry as she made those movements with the microphone. sabrina managed to throw you a quick dirty look before continuing to sing, but fuck, you didn’t hear her anymore. you couldn’t hear anything except the frantic beating of your heart. you just need to kneel in front of her and…

“sabrina…” you have no idea how you ended up in a black tinted audi while her driver was driving you to the hotel. sabrina giggled and drew patterns with her manicured fingers on the inside of your thigh, teasing and tickling your milky skin. you instinctively spread your legs, begging her to go further, but she just adjusts your cute black dress that she picked for you by herself, making your pussy literally cry. her hands are no longer on your body when the driver asks her something related to the show. it was torture. "you're acting like a little slut, it's so sweet"

your breath hitched when she whispered those words in your ear. sabrina had always been such a tease, and you kind of got used to it, but now, when you desperately needed her inside you, there was nothing funny about it. now, when she ran her warm tongue over the pulse point on your neck, you thought you would die because of her. for her. for her pleasure, anything, just to get you alone sooner.

“please, brina don’t play with me…” you whine softly into her ear, praying she’ll stop teasing you while her driver talks to your girlfriend, apparently not even noticing that she’s not listening to him anymore, caught up in you and your desperation for her. she giggles sweetly as her hand goes back between your legs, filling the empty space. “what did you say, princess?”

you open your mouth to answer her, but the only thing that comes out is something between a scream and a moan as she presses her fingers harshly against your clit. your face flushes red as the man in the driver’s seat’s gaze shifts to you. “are you okay, ma’am?”

sabrina looks at you so damn innocently it makes your blood boil. “are you okay, ma’am?” the sweet way she says it, the mocking way, it makes you squeeze her hand between your legs. you feel her rings scratching your skin. your voice didn't sound as confident as you'd like. "y-yeah…"

"good girl… keep quiet" yes, mommy.

“sabrina, please…” you whine as she presses kisses and bites to your neck while her hands explore every inch of your body. she told you to take your panties off, just so you could both see your arousal dripping down your thighs. your hands claw at the wall sabrina had you pinned against. this girl was petite, but you were so weak because of her. the fact that she was still wearing high heels made her tower slightly over you, and it was sexy. “please what, princess?”

her whispers against your skin made tears roll down your cheeks. so desperate, but sabrina just smirked, tearing her mouth away from your neck. she looked into your eyes, tilting her head to the side as if studying every emotion on your face. wasn’t it obvious? "and one more thing, it's not sabrina tonight"

you swallow hard, immediately realizing what she means. thank god you took off your heels, because she would have definitely made you fall to the floor. "please, i need you to fuck me…" you look her straight in the eyes as she chuckles at your words, her thumbs wiping the tears from your cheeks. “mommy?”

"since you're so polite, princess, how could i refuse you?" sabrina winks at you, walking across the room to grab your favorite thing. you lick your lips as you watch her fasten it to her hips. you realize that you're about to be the one doing the pose sabrina did on the show. fuck.

"on your knees, princess" her pink strap fits perfectly on her body as she sways her hips, making her way to the bed. She sits on the edge, spreading her legs demonstratively. Encouraging you to crawl to her like a good puppy. You literally fall at her feet, holding her perfect hips with your hands.

“that’s my good girl. so obedient, mm?” she ran the tip of the strap over your lips, making you open your mouth in anticipation. you wanted to take it in your mouth, but she stopped you. “where’s your manners, sweet girl?” her voice was soft but serious. god, this girl driving you crazy.

“y-yes, im your obedient girl… please, can i suck it?” you squeeze her hips and give her a puppy look. sabrina smiles, enjoying you. she liked to keep such an obedient little girl a secret only for herself. she gathers your hair into a lazy ponytail, just like she did during the concert, bringing your head closer to her strap. "such a greedy, slutty little thing"

you didn't care what she said anymore as her cock filled your mouth. her hand guided your head and you felt the tip of her strap scrape the back of your throat. sabrina moans like she feels everything you do. your eyes as you look at her, the dirty sounds that come from between you and the silicone in your mouth, it all drives her crazy. both of you.

"that's my good girl…" sabrina grips your hair tighter, causing mild pain. you whine, taking more of her strap into your mouth, proving to her that you're her good girl. your drool drips down your chin as sabrina lets you pull your mouth away from her cock. you breathe heavily, looking somewhere at the floor. your arousal drips down your thighs.

"come here, princess. come on mommy's lap" sabrina helps you up and sits you on her thighs. your pussy touches the soft skin of her thigh and you can't help but start riding her. sabrina presses a kiss to your shoulder and then bites, making you sigh. "please mommy…"

it's going to be a long night.