#he's still competent as fuck just old and pissed about it

[elizzsush]

“Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” | DC - Batman WIP

Batfam X Isekaied Reader

— in which you, a DC fan gets isekaied into and gets saved by boy wonder. Only to get mad at him and B… it’s only after you calm down (still mad at them) you piece together what actually happened… but should you tell them?

AU: Soulmate (?), isekai Rating: Sfw

Note: You and Damien are the same age and shit. I don’t really remember how old he is but for the sake of fanfiction let’s age him up to 18 (or down I looked it up and it said he was 37? I have no idea where that info was from comic are confusing)

Warning: Y/N swears a lot and makes a like one sexual joke? _________________________________

One minute you were in the greatest, most magical place in the world: Six flags. And the next you were in the sewer. To say you were pissed and totally confused was an understatement. Those funnel cakes by the entrance were calling your name- you were gonna get one before you left! Now instead of that sweet cake smell it was replaced with the smell of shit and piss and whatever else lived in the sewer.

Sixflags was suppose to be relaxing- doctors orders. You just needed to relax and distract from-

You were in the sewers. You dreaded to think about what you may have stepped in while on your quest to find a manhole cover.

So yes, you looked like an idiot in a Superman cape carrying a Wayne enterprises mug wondering around the sewers. The mug was half off and made you feel like you existed in the world of DC instead of the regular merchandise… and the cape was because who doesn’t get a cape when they go to six flags? Or at least bring the cape they already bought with them. Looking back, you blamed the mug. Anyway, you were wandering around this horrible sewer with water greener then green. It seriously looked toxic… when you heard this horrible roar…

You glanced back from where you came- looking towards the sound, when you heard it again. So, like any sane person. You broke out into a sprint.

Bad ideas, because it heard you and was coming closer now.

You seriously doubted you would be able to outrun this thing for long. It was getting closer and rapidly. But, thankfully, luck was on your side- because you saw a manhole cover!

Climbing the ladder you pushed the thing open-

Only to almost get ran over by a fucking car! “Watch it!” You cursed at the speeding car, a certain finger proudly in the air as you climb out. Momentarily forgetting about the creature that was chasing you. Remember that you slammed the man hole cover shut in a hurry.

But, did you think you could compete with some monster when it comes to the battle of strength? Yeah, didn’t think so either. It blasted the manhole cover off of its neat little spot and you hurry back and away from the road. “What the- oh my god.” You breath in relief when the thing was too big to actually climb out of the sewers. “Killer croc… okay… I’m losing it… whatever it is…” you try and breath out to collect yourself but you were interrupted by the sound of a very angry lizard man… thing. Crocodile? “Okay fuck off!” You shouted angrily at the villain and rip your cap off. “Abusive aunts or some shit is hard but by god your annoying!” You huff and run away because that just made him more angry and you didn’t want to stick around for that.

You did run away while waving two fingers at him, each from the middle of two of your hands but that was neither here nor there. You just needed to walk away and clear your head-

And…

You bumped into someone on your little escape. A chest of a fucking cosplayer. “My day couldn’t be going worse- oh my god, Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” You swore at the boy in black, red and green. “Six flags was suppose to be fucking relaxing!” You swore at him and turned away to go the opposite way only to bare witness to the snarls of a certain croc

“get back here!” He made the fucking ground shake.

“Fuck you and your shitty Damien cosplay, I am out of here.” You turn and ran from him only he to met with the silhouette of a bat… man, it was fucking Batman. “Oh I wonder who it is? Bruce Wayne, no fucking duh, Go fight the idiot on acid and leave me out of it.” You hissed because you were cornered. You tend to lash out when your cornered. He approached you quieter now. “…Oh um, I’ll take the crocodile, thanks.” You spoke as you backed up only for him to make the ground shake harder-

“Fine! Boy wonder then god damn. At least he’s hot!”

“How do You know our names?” Boy wonder piped up. He was suddenly standing beside you.

“Are You dense or really into role play?” You hissed at them. “I don’t know what kind of budget your little prank crew is working with but screw off!” Just then the crocadile managed to ruin the ground around him and break free- resulting in Batman and Robin to fight him and you-

The sane one to run away, “I’m so suing six flags for this- didn’t sign up for their fucking role-play shit.”

—————————————

Okay, so after adjusting. You were no longer in six flags- nor some rich nerds cosplay special effects whatever. Hell you didn’t even somehow end up on a movie set shooting for the next Batman. “Gotham more like god dammit, right?” You joked to yourself, and the old women next to you. She just looked at you weirded out and oddly disappointed before shaking her head. “Okay, Fuck me then.”

So, yeah, you were feeling a lot of emotions. Hey, you can adjust to this! Because no way in hell was getting back to your world worth being involved in whatever episode or comic plot this whole thing was. Yeah no, fuck that. You made a checklist.

1. Get out of Gotham (metropolis was lovely, Superman was cool-)

2. Get enough money to fuck off to some corner of the world no one knew about.

And finally 3. Live peacefully knowing you’ll never get that funnel cake.

The only problem? You didn’t have any money, food, shelter, phone, money again, or anything besides the clothes on your back. And you were craving funnel cake. Yes, you were poor in Gotham. That was basically a death sentence.

At least you had a mug. A stupid, useless mug. Hey, at least you can beg for change with it! “I should rob people.” You mutter to yourself because, that seemed like a good easy way to get money- the old women next to you however eyed you warily and moved her purse. “Not you, we’re cool Margaret.” You sent her a wave and a wink and got up. This plan would work.

It was this or sell the Justice leagues names to villains. Which- hey that could make cash and make you dead!

—————————————

Despite what people will tell you, stealing is fun.

Who would have guessed- your a natural pick pocket! If pick pocketing was running past women and tugging their bags away. “My bag! My purse!” Okay, maybe you had a bit of a sick sense of humor but you were desperate! And you made 132 dollars and 25 cents. Had it been two days? Yes, had you been pepper sprayed twice? Yes again, but you avoided it!

The only regret you had? Why hadn’t it been marvel? Marvel just seemed easier to live in. Yes the world did end but it bounced back! You sighed and threw a penny in the air. You were honestly tired. Two days was a long time to go without a bed. You couldn’t get a job either, you tired and needed so much to prove you were a serial killer or a thief- which included a birth certificate you didn’t have and so much more. Background checks would be the death of you. Even at that small cafe you met Margret? Yeah it was Margret. “Well we’ll well, if it isn’t Gotham’s newest petty criminal.”

You dropped your penny. Leaving you with 24 cents.

It was Jason fucking Todd.

“If I die, at least make it by those thighs.” You said solemnly, accepting your death. “I mean seriously, you squat or something?” You did a wolf whistle and now you were being detained. Okay, you tried.

You never claimed to be better then a man. And if you did you lied.

“I got her B.”

.

.

.

.

“Banananannaan Batman! Da Na!” You sang as Batman’s Batmobile pulled into the bat cave. The same one you had been dragged too. “He’s the crime fighting vigilantes who works alone! Besides Robin, Nightwing, Gordon, the Justice League, batgirl, Red Robin, red hood, Oracle, Barbra, um… I know theirs more help me out jay bird?” You sang as he excited the car. “He refuses to kill the joker who’s a mass murder ands death would save thousands! It’s Batman! The hero man! Danananana!”

“How do You know?” Batman asked as he walked towards you.

“The Song? Oh I improvised. Hard to find rhymes for Batman, hero man is pretty good though, huh?” He fucking punched you! “Fuck! What the hell dude? Wait are you the angry Batman who’s quieter or the nice Batman- god it’s so hard to know which one I ended up with.”

“This is serious.” Dick Said as he grabbed Batman hand and pulled him away from you.

“Heard of coping? penis?” You rolled your eyes, “this is kinda how I do it.”

“You sold our information, or Superman’s information too a villain. Tell us why and how you knew it and we’ll let you go.” He continued, “our friend is in serious danger now because of you.” He gritted his teeth looking upset.

You just rolled your eyes and licked your now bloody teeth. “Would have sold your guys information for a lot more then I got on me. Living large with eight dogs- maybe cats? Don’t know how I feel about animals actually. Which do you prefer dogs or cats?”

“We need to know how many villains you sold us out too.” Dick said calmly, his face getting closer to your own. “Now.”

You smile and lean closer to him. “You free after this?” He backed away with a frustrated look and Batman put his hand on Dick shoulder. “Oh B is tapping in now- great!”

“Your the only person who knows who we are.” Another voice said you looked behind you and saw Damien.

“That you don’t trust. Maybe check your inner circles before punching a poor thief! God… you’d think the world greatest detective would fact check- oh wait isn’t the greatest a chimp or something? I’ve always loved monkeys- oh maybe I’d get a monkey for my pent house.”

“You have no family, no friends, no birth certificate- before last week you didn’t exist. There are no records of you being born or traveling to Gotham. Who exactly are you?” Batman leaned close to you.

You stayed silent, thinking of your options. "I was with a traveling circus..." You began, "Then one day someone rigged the equipment for my parent's routine and then batman adopted me, and that was how I began robin..." You spoke solemnly, you noticed how a certain blue suited bird man tensed up. "Aw, don't tell me we have the same backstory!" You accused the Nighwing, "well one of us is going to have to change it and I hate to tell you, but I make it work."

"She knows more about us than our names... or at least more about Nighwing." You heard a robin mutter, the red one.

"Okay being red was his thing” you look at red hood, “and you took it, so you have no place to talk about me and penis's copycat situation- Even though I totally did it first and he should change it." You nudged your head towards Red Hood, "Kinda like how you took his role as Robin, but you know what Ima stay away from that can of worms haha." You laughed awkwardly as Jason stood up from behind you and walked towards you menacingly.

"This is a Major Turn Off for me you know? The costumes just don’t do it- maybe if you strip-“ and your mouth was tapped shut.

_____________________________________NOTE: Y/N is supposed to be Deadpool coded because I was watching Deadpool and laughing my ass off earlier.

[dark-konohagakure2]

Yandere sasuke rapeing his little sister after finding out she has a crush on Naruto 🖤

tw: incest, brother/sister, noncon, yandere, jealousy, abuse, hair pulling, victim blaming, possessiveness, rough sex, invasion of privacy

All characters depicted are 18+

Sasuke isn't the most stellar older brother in the entire world. He's protective, but also very distant, and he acts as if he couldn't really care less about his sister's love life, despite the bubbling heat that burns in his chest whenever he sees her so much as glance at another man, but he'll brush these feelings aside, that is until Sasuke discovers that his sister has been keeping things from her big brother.

Sasuke was cleaning her room one day, he doesn't usually do her chores for her since she's old enough to clean her own room, but Sasuke is feeling nice that day and decides to clean her room up on a whim. As he's tidying up, Sasuke notices something poking out from underneath her pillow, and upon further inspection he realizes it's her diary, with no lock on it. Sasuke isn't nosey by nature, but curiosity gets the better of him...

Her diary is initially nothing but unremarkable and mundane musings about her day or thoughts at the time, nothing that interests Sasuke in the slightest, he doesn't know what he was expecting to find in the first place. He's just about to close the journal when suddenly something catches his eye, a name he knows all too well: 'Naruto'. His name is mentioned quite a bit in the latest entries, and that's because she's developed a crush on the blonde. Sasuke isn't happy about this new development in the slightest.

He'll immediately confront her, not bothering to hide how mad he is, not does he make it a secret that he read her diary without permission. Despite clearly being in the wrong in this situation, Sasuke will act like she's the one who who committed some terrible slight against him, like her daring to have a crush on his idiotic rival is a personal insult against Sasuke, like she's cheating on him.

"Care to explain..? Did you really think you could keep this from me?! Huh?! Do you think I'm that fucking stupid?! I'll teach you what happens to little sisters who lie to their big brothers..."

Sasuke is pissed off about this perceived infidelity from his own sister, so he's going to 'check' to see if she threw her virginity away as easily as she threw her heart at Naruto. He'll pin her down with his superior weigh and strength as he shoves his hand down her underwear, checking if her hymen is still in tact. Once he confirms that she hasn't lost her virginity yet, she hopes he'll relent and stop acting so cruel towards her, but that naive hope is quickly dashed when he begins to undo his pants.

Naruto is Sasuke's rival before he's his friend, and rivals compete, they try to one-up each other and claim things before the other can, and right now the thing Sasuke wants to claim is his sister's virginity. He doesn't care if his sister's crush is childish and likely not reciprocated by the Uzumaki at all, but Sasuke doesn't care, he's taking preventative measures and doing what he should have done a long time ago; he's claiming his property.

Sasuke isn't gentle in his claiming her, he's not just asserting his ownership over her, but he's also punishing her for daring to fall in love with a man that isn't her big brother, a man that she knows damn well is her brother's biggest competition. He'll even accuse her of doing all of this on purpose just to get a rise out of him, just to hurt him because she doesn't care about his feelings. Sasuke will act like she's the inconsiderate one, even as he's pounding into her from behind and pulling her hair hard enough to make her scalp burn.

He'll cum inside her without any hesitation, both to humiliate and claim her, even if she somehow doesn't get knocked up from his seed, he's still doing irreversible damage to both her body and soul, he's the first man to cum inside her, the first one to fuck her, and he's going to make damn sure that he's the first and last.

"Could you little boyfriend fuck you that good? It doesn't matter either way, because you're never seeing him ever again, or any other stupid guys for that matter..."

Sasuke isn't lying or exaggerating when he says that either, he's keeping her all to himself from now on, not only is she not permitted to see her precious Naruto ever again, but she's not seeing another person ever again, that is unless they make another person together, but even then Sasuke might still be unwilling to share.

[hellaarknight]

Spacing out

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Genre : fluff. Warnings: swearing

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"What about this one?"

"What about him?"

"Oh, c'mon Ichigo, I need your honest opinion"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. This all help Y/N choose a guy to date was pissing him off. Orihime had the brilliant idea to help each other date because with all the problems caused by the Soul Society, none of them had a proper dating life. It wasn't a really horrible idea in the end if not for the fact that they started with you. All grouped in Ichigo's room and looking at different photos of guys from highschool, or friends of a friend. Why did he agree to this? He couldn't remember.

"Orihime, that guy is not Y/N's style." Rukia chimed in with a smug smile on her face.

"Oh yeah, and what's her style? Right, Y/N what boys do you like? More handsome or less handsome? Tall or short or...?" Orihime started her list while you were deep in thought.

Ichigo wanted so badly to have a piece of your mind. He noticed you spaced out about ten minutes ago, 'bout the time Orihime scattered the guys photos on the floor.

"I think she likes strong guys, maybe a bit old like Urahara or Ukitake" Yoruichi just wanted to mess with Ichigo, she's seen the way he looked at her, the way she always was his priority in all events and circumstances.

Ichigo choked on his water. "I don't remember inviting you over, Yoruichi". His tone was almost menacing, so she was definitely rilling him up. "I don't need to be invited, as it is about Y/N, our beloved, very, much adored by both Kisuke and Ukitake who entrusted me to protect her. Am I wrong or you also asked me to keep an eye on her?"

"That's just because..." Ichigo mumbled some words, awkwardly scratching his cheek. "Listen, I don't need to explain my reasons to you!"

"Rukia, if I remember correctly, didn't your brother also tell you to take care of her?" Chad asked.

"Now that you mentioned it, him and Renji, both told me to keep an eye on her."

Ichigo put his hands into his hair, pulling at it. Urahara, Ukitake, Renji and now even Byakuya?? How was he supposed to compete with them? Then what about the guy you'll choose to go on a date with? He spared you a glance and somehow you were still blissfully unaware of the commotion going on around yourself. His lips curled into a smile. You didn't seem very interested in all this dating thing and for some reason he felt relieved. He liked you and wanted just the best for you. He... He liked you. It downed on him as he saw you smiling to yourself while looking at the framed picture of your group that he had on his nightstand. He wanted to keep that smile on your lips forever. Ichigo realized that all this was bothering him because of his own feelings. His ears started to become red as he was getting flustered by all the feelings that were pouring out of his heart towards his mind.

"Guys, why don't we ask Y/N about who she would like to go on a date with, hm?" As usual, Ishida was the most rational person in that room. They all turned around to face you, but you were too deep in thought to realize, until Rukya's voice reached you.

"Hmm?" You turn your head towards her.

"I asked you who you'd like to go on a date with?"

"Ichigo, obviously, what a dumb question Rukya."

You answered nonchalantly like it was the most normal thing in the world. Until you came to your senses and started to perceive all eyes in the room fixated on you. Then you remembered where you were and what was the purpose of your reunion. Your eyes met Ichigo's wide eyes and red face while you gasped audibly.

"Fuck, I forgot we're all here!"

[cloudzoro]

Fate | Buggy x reader x Shanks ♡

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genre: smut, nasty nasty smut (minors dni) and a tiny little bit of fluff at the end

pairings: buggy x reader x shanks

wc: 13.3k

cw: fem!reader, bartender reader, semi public sex, a lap dance, a LOT of dirty talk, biting, piss kink, omorashi, so much oral, jealous!buggy, buggy is actually really sweet, brat tamer shanks, spanking, pussy slapping, spitting, some parts are dialogue heavy, buggy's detachable dick, shanks lowkey has a clown fetish, squirting, overstimulation, aftercare, love confessions

masterlist | one piece masterlist

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Your childhood friends, Buggy and Shanks, both found your bar around six months ago and have been hooking up with you ever since. The connection the three of you have runs much deeper than mindless sex so you finally get them in the same place at the same time so you can fuck like animals and confess your love.

a/n: I'm so fixated on buggy right now i literally can't think of anything else

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You're just starting your evening shift at your bar when a familiar hat and blue pigtails comes sauntering into the building.

“Hi, Buggy,” you call, and your old friend wanders up to the bar with a grin on his face.

“Hi, sweetheart. We’ll have whatever you got. We're celebrating tonight,” he says. You nod and signal to one of your security guys to go down to the basement and get the big barrels you're not strong enough to carry. You don't need to worry about any trouble at the bar when Buggy and his crew are there, though you worry that one day he'll be here at the same time as the actual pirate whose protection you're under.

The small island your village is on is under the jurisdiction of red-haired Shanks. Your mayor hasn't officially accepted Shanks’ offer yet. Still, you have a feeling that with all the business their pirate crew brings to your village—buying from your local farmers and frequenting your bar—he'll formally accept when Shanks returns from his next voyage. The lack of permission from your mayor doesn't matter to Shanks; he's ultimately just using this island as a base to place you under his protection.

You, Shanks, and Buggy were all on the same pirate ship as youngsters. You'd been impossibly close, inseparable at all times. After they'd had a falling out at the site of your former captain's execution, you'd refused to pick a side, and Shanks had taken you with him so he could drop you off at a quiet island where you leave your pirate life behind you.

However, after Shanks and Buggy had made a name for themselves, your history of piracy had worked its way into your present. Shanks had been the first to find you, having been the one to drop you off, and wasn't surprised to see you now owning and running one of the bars in your village. He'd walked in by himself and jokingly asked if your bar was pirate-friendly. Your security guy was about to launch forward but was stopped by you, who had called his name and ran around the bar to launch yourself into him. He hugged you back with one arm, and you welcomed his crew into your establishment. Your staff were on their best behaviour that day and respected you more after finding out you were close friends with one of the emperors of the sea.

Buggy had accidentally stumbled upon your bar but was beyond shocked to see you. He had initially threatened your village, but upon receiving a smack and stern talking to from you, he gave up embarrassingly quickly and asked politely to frequent your bar. You allowed him, glad to see him alive and warned him that you were under a different pirate’s jurisdiction. You ordered your staff to be hushed about the pirate being Shanks, so you don't scare off Buggy.

Since then, they'd been coming to your island intermittently, competing with each other without even knowing. Shanks knows there's another pirate who sometimes docks up on your island, and Buggy knows another pirate is trying to lay claim to your land, but neither of them knows it's the other. How they've avoided each other for this long is a mystery to you.

“Hello? Sweetheart?” Buggy's voice draws you from your memories, and you look up at him with a smile. What're you smiling at? You weirdo,” he says, reaching over the bar to flick your forehead. One thing both Buggy and Shanks never grew out of was their childish teasing. Buggy, in particular, likes to wind you up. Whenever you would tattle to your old man, Rayleigh, about the boys teasing you, he would insist that it was because they had a crush on you.

“Nothing, Buggy. I was just reminiscing about the old days,” you say. He rolls his eyes and calls you a sentimental fool. Buggy turns his attention to the bar behind you. He detaches his hand from his body and reaches for the top-shelf whiskey. He's too much of a lightweight for it. You know that much, so you snatch it back and scold him for using his power to rob you of money. You never realised how differently you view your ‘lovers’ compared to everyone else until your staff asked how you have the balls to tell them off and flirt with them, fearing losing a limb for messing with an emperor. Buggy begrudgingly listens; you're the only person he can't bring himself to argue with. He can tease you and wind you up until the cows come home, but if you look genuinely upset, he fills with guilt immediately.

Your security guy comes back with a barrel of cheap booze and helps you set it up. You start to serve it up, beginning with Buggy and then calling over his crewmates. You ensure everyone is served before returning to cleaning glasses and steins to ensure you're on top of things.

Buggy keeps a keen eye on you as you move around the bar, busying yourself with odd jobs. You can feel the clown watching you, and you feel your skin heating up. Your friendship with Shanks and Buggy has always been more than platonic, especially now that you're all grown adults and you own a bar. They're always sneaking you off on breaks or taking you home after to fuck you. They're very different in the bedroom; Shanks is confident and in control, whereas Buggy takes care of you, but ultimately you're in charge. Buggy’s an emperor of the sea now, so you're curious to see if that's helped his confidence. Insecurity usually had him doubting himself in the bedroom, leading to him easily bending to your will for a bit of praise. He appeared to be more sure of himself when he walked in, so you take that as a good sign.

You're focused on the bottles behind the bar when you feel a tug at your skirt. You look down to see a hand creeping under your skirt. The hand slides around to squeeze your ass, and you turn around to see Buggy, handless, staring at you. His hand works its way to the front and slips beneath your panties, collecting your wetness on his fingers. You want to scold him, tell him off for touching you in public, but the predatory grin he's giving you right now is turning you on so bad. Typically, if you told him off, Buggy would drop to his knees and ask to eat you out as an apology, but you're curious to see if his boldness can translate into something more dominating.

You ask your friend to cover you while you go on a break. Buggy follows you as you round the bar and go through the back door to the staff-only area. He wasn't subtle about it. You know most of his crew just saw him go in here.

Buggy catches up to you when you're near a staff storage room, and he attaches his hand back right in time to push you into the room and turns you around to back you up against the door. He immediately attaches his lips to yours. His kiss is heated and messy, hot tongues pressing against each other. Buggy’s hands come up to squeeze your tits through your top, and he drops his kisses to your neck. You were thankful he had come in without makeup tonight, so you don't have to explain to your staff how your neck ended up covered in red lipstick. It happened to you once and was embarrassing for both of you, so you appreciate the consideration. He drops to his knees, kissing your thighs, and as his hand reaches for your panties, you stop him.

“Bug, wait. My break is only ten minutes. We don't have time for all this.” You say, pulling him up by his hair. “Just fuck me properly”, You whine, pulling him into a kiss. He lets you guide it before you get tired of messing around. You want to see how his status as an emperor and newfound confidence has changed the way he fucks you.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks, turning you around and grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“Yes, and I want you to fuck me hard. You're a Yonko now. Where's all that power and aggression?” you ask. Your teasing question works; Buggy's voice is barely above a growl when he responds.

“You wanna see my real power?” he asks, punctuating his question with a slap to your ass. This is exactly what you've been waiting for with Buggy. You nod, and he turns you back around again. He doesn't look mad. There's no dark glint in his eye, and he just looks excited. You know Buggy, he'll never be a hard dom, but you just want to see more control from him, and that is exactly what he's showing. “I need words.”

“yes. I want you so bad.” Buggy smiles at your consent, leaning against the storage cupboard wall. He pushes you down on your knees and undoes his belt and trouser button.

“If you suck my dick for me right now, I promise I'll take you back to my ship and destroy your tight little pussy” You nod and waste no time reaching up to free his cock from his trousers. Buggy laughs at your eagerness. He doesn't receive this kind of sexual attention much, so you tend to fluster him, though he's not letting it show tonight. When you finally get his hard cock in your mouth, he moans embarrassingly loud. He throws his head back, staring at the ceiling as you work him into your mouth. He's all too aware of the fact that he'll cum down your throat the second he makes eye contact with you. “What would people say about you if they opened this door to see you on your knees for a pirate captain? And an emperor, no less,” he says, hips bucking into your mouth slightly as he gets closer to his orgasm. “What would Shanks say if he saw you like this?”

You moan around his cock at the question, and his hips stutter forward, breaking his rhythm. His cock harshly hits the back of your throat, and you gag slightly, pulling off of him. He uses his grip on your hair to pull you back to his cock. You want Shanks and Buggy to fuck you together more than anything. He's never spoken to you like this before, making you gush.

You slip a hand between your legs as you take his cock back into your mouth. Buggy finally looks down at you and groans when he notices what you're doing.

“Are you really touching yourself to the thought of red hair catching us?” he asks, scoffing. “I bet a horny slut like you would want him to join in” You know, Buggy's just as attracted to Shanks as you are, and you feel his cock twitching in your mouth at the mental image of sharing you with him. It doesn't take him much longer to cum. He cums down your throat and helps you wipe off any stray drops of cum that missed your mouth. He pulls you into a kiss as you tuck him back into his underwear and zip up his trousers for him. Buggy almost looks embarrassed at how quickly he's cum, but he quickly gets over it when he realises how turned on you are.

“I'm the boss here, you know. I can cut my shift short if I want to,” you say, pulling him in for another kiss. Buggy feels a stirring in his stomach when he kisses you. It's been happening for years; he chalks it up to being impossibly horny and refuses to look further into it. You go back into the bar and tell your staff that your shift is over, and you trust them to lock up. As you walk back to the Big Top with Buggy, he tells you stories about what he's been up to since he last left your island.

Buggy brings you onto his ship and down to his captain's quarters. As soon as you're in his space, the door is swung shut, and Buggy all but pounces on you. He pulls you into a rough kiss, walking you to the middle of the room. You occupy his thoughts all day, every day. He fantasises about your pretty self putting on a show just for his eyes. He sometimes wants to ask you if you can dance and see if he can ask you to give him a private performance. He’s finally got a chance to fulfil multiple of his fantasies at once, so he doesn’t hesitate in taking it. He pulls away, breathing heavily. He sits down on his throne, which has been pushed up against a wall, and leaves you standing in the middle of the room.

“Take it off for me, give me a show,” he says, leaning back. “make it flashy.”

You start with your top, taking care to remove it slowly. You feel one of his hands squeeze your tits. You whimper at the stimulation, and Buggy laughs. You carefully push your skirt's waistband over your hips until you can drop the garment to the floor. You turn around and hook your fingers in your panties, pulling them down your legs. You go to kick off your heels, but Buggy's hand grabs your ankle to stop you.

“keep ‘em on,” he says. You turn back around to look at him and see he's shirtless, hair down, palming his hard cock through his trousers. You notice he's become more like Shanks now that he's trying to take control. His hand grabs hold of yours so he can drag you over to where he's sitting. He pulls you to his lap so you're straddling him. He guides his cock to your entrance and kisses your neck and shoulders as you take him to the base. “ride me, baby,” he growls.

You obey, lifting your hips upward and slamming them back down. You both moan at the way his cock feels dragging against your walls. Buggy soaks in your pretty noises as his fingers dig into your hips to guide you.

You lean down to capture Buggy in a kiss, tilting your head to avoid his cute nose. Kissing Buggy always feels like you're unravelling a secret; the big scary clown pirate emperor is really just your silly man who wants to take good care of you. You feel close, and you start to drag your hips, grinding down on him. You whimper into the kiss, prompting a laugh from Buggy, who uses his grip on your hips to hold you in place while he fucks up into you.

“I'm gonna cum”, you moan, dropping your head to his shoulder.

“Yeah? Go on then. Make a mess for me”. All it takes is a few more thrusts to reach your high. Buggy watches intently as your orgasm crashes over you. He groans as you scratch at his back. He manages to hold off his orgasm as you come back to your senses. “Can you give me another one?” he asks.

“Didn’t you promise me you were going to destroy my pussy?” you say, pulling him into another kiss.

“I did, didn't I?” he says, before moving forward and laying you down on the fluffy rug spread across the floor. He's on his knees, hovering over your body. He pushes his cock into you again, groaning at how sensitive you both are. He braces himself with his elbows on either side of your head, and then he starts to fuck you properly. He grunts in your ear as he fucks you down into the floor. His cock fills you up so well that it is almost embarrassing how you whimper about it. Buggy loves the rush of adrenaline he gets from fucking you. How you cling to him and whine about how good he feels makes him feel like he could do anything. Your hands fly to his hair as he rearranges your insides, and he moans as you harshly tug at his hair. “That's it. Let me know how good I'm fucking you.”

Your second orgasm hits you like a freight train. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you gush around his cock. His orgasm follows closely behind, and he bites down harder as he fills you up with his cum. He tries his best to fuck you through both of your orgasms, and when your walls finally stop pulsing around his cock, he slips out of you carefully. He cleans you up with tissues and then carries you to his bed. He changes into pyjamas and then climbs into bed with you.

“Stay here for tonight. I'll take you home in the morning,” he says, moving a piece of hair out of your face. Buggy is not typically so affectionate with you after you sleep together; he’s never mean to you, but he’s never this soft. It makes you wonder what's changed.

“Are you leaving tomorrow?” You ask, cuddling up to his chest.

“Nope, we still have one more day here.”

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Buggy returns to your bar again the next night. He’s doing his usual routine of staring at you, drinking less than all of his crew and waiting to get you alone so that he can fuck you. He’d reminiscing about his previous trip to the island after you’d left the ship that morning, and he’s been having shameful thoughts about trying a specific gross kink with you. You and Buggy had hooked up before. You're no stranger to his wilder kinks, but there's still one that he's been keeping from you up to this point. He thinks he's finally got you comfortable enough to try it. He's been trying to buy you drinks all night, but you've insisted on being a good little bartender and drinking water instead, which was his plan all along. You don't realise Buggy has only had one drink, wanting to stay sober for what he's going to do with you tonight.

He overhears you complaining to one of your coworkers about needing to piss, and his cock twitches in his trousers as he thinks about the night he saw you piss yourself.

It had been an accident; you'd been out drinking with him, and there wasn't a toilet around, but you didn't want to go outside, so you had to try and make it to the next bar without pissing yourself. You were almost there when you felt it start to come out. You made a run for it, and Buggy followed you to guard you. However, he didn't turn around to check for onlookers. He just shielded your body from view with his own. He was too busy staring at the puddle you were making on the floor as you pulled your already-wet underwear down so you could go in the alley. It should have been gross, but he couldn't look away. He couldn't stop thinking about burying his face between your legs.

He hears you ask your coworker to cover you so you can go to the bathroom, and she denies you, saying you close in ten minutes and asking you to hold it. The way you whine in response reminds him of how you whine to him when he teases you. He turns around, facing you. You're standing behind the bar in little black shorts, a crop top and heels, driving him insane. He's grateful for your bar's questionable short and all-black dress code.

After ushering the Buggy pirates out of the bar, you rush through your cleaning and leave your coworker to lock up. You step outside the bar and are met with Buggy waiting for you, leaning against an opposite wall. He's watching the way you walk over to him with a grin on his face. You're wobbling, desperate to piss, and trying to hold it in. You're fidgeting, and it makes Buggy laugh. You scold him, which he pays no mind to before lifting you over his shoulder and carrying you to your home, which isn't far from the bar.

As soon as he's in the door, he puts you down and watches as you run towards your bathroom. Like the predator he is, he lures you into a false sense of security by encouraging you to go to the toilet while he puts your stuff down. However, when you get to the bathroom door, you're greeted by one of his hands holding it closed. You try to get it to let go, but it's no use. Buggy is stronger than you. You scream Buggy's name in anger, and suddenly, his hand is joined by the rest of him.

“Can I help you, sweetheart?” he asks, feigning ignorance and moving his hands to your hips now that his body is blocking the door.

“Please move, Bug. I need to go so bad. It's not funny,” you whine, nearly in tears from the pressure on your bladder. Buggy pulls you into a messy kiss, and when you pull away, he expects to see you glaring. Instead, you're looking up at him with teary eyes and the cutest little pout. He wants to ruin you. “I need the toilet,” you whimper.

“There's one right here,” he says, patting his thighs, and you immediately stop struggling in his grasp. You look up at him in bewilderment.

“That's not funny.”

“I'm not joking,” he responds, leaning down to kiss your neck. “If you think it's too gross, I'll move, but I want to feel you let it go so bad.” He groans into your ear before resuming his kisses. He can tell you're thinking it over.

“What about the mess?” You ask, voice shaky and unsure.

“I'll clean it up.”

“Okay,” your voice is small and desperate, but having your permission launches Buggy into action. He lifts you and carries you over to the guest bedroom that he sometimes crashes in when he's docked here. He dumps you on the bed and helps you strip down to your underwear. Your hands instinctively fly between your legs to cup your pussy, but Buggy is quick to swat them away. He grips the back of your thighs and pushes your legs up towards your chest. Buggy leans down to kiss your stomach, leaving red lipstick marks in his wake. You moan as you finally start to relieve yourself. Buggy leans back, gaze fixed on your cunt.

“Yeah. That's it, baby. Let go for me,” he encourages as he watches you make a mess of your underwear, the sheets, and his trousers. You almost hate how good it felt. Buggy leans down to kiss you, but it's a kiss full of aggression and desperation. “That was so fucking hot,” he growls into the kiss.

He pulls away from the kiss to stare at you, from his makeup all over your skin to your soiled underwear; he wishes he had a camera on him right now. He reaches down and pulls your underwear off, tucking the soaked fabric into his trouser pocket to take with him when they depart from your island. Your exposed pussy has him drooling, and then he hears you whimpering for him to do something other than stare at the mess you made. He can tell the embarrassment is starting to creep in, so he leans back down to your face, shushing you and kissing your lips. He savours the kiss, knowing you probably won't kiss him for the rest of the night after what he's about to do.

Buggy drops to his knees on the floor and drags you closer to the edge of the bed. He then dives right in, licking and sucking at your pussy. He buries his tongue in your hole, moaning loudly at the taste. He'd fantasised about doing this to you for months, but none of his dreams come close to how it feels to have you with him right now, indulging in his dirtiest fantasy. He drags his long tongue back up to your clit and suctions his mouth around it, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud. You're so close to cumming, and with the relief you've already had tonight, you feel tears start to pool.

“Please, Buggy. I'm so close,” you moan, bucking your hips up into his face. Buggy's hands hold you in place as he sucks harshly on your clit as pushes two fingers into you. You moan and arch your back as he fingers you open. His tongue feels so good, and the extra stimulation of his fingers has an orgasm washing over you easily. You moan Buggy's name as tears roll down your face. He's completely focused on drawing your orgasm from you. He licks at every drop that leaks from your sweet pussy.

When you've calmed down, Buggy rises to his feet. He stares down at you like he's staring at his last meal. Your makeup is just as smudged as his. Your skin is covered in remnants of him. You're a vision of pleasure, panting and drooling as you come down from your intense orgasm. Buggy commits the sight to his memories. He towers over the bed, reminding you of how big Buggy is.

“You ready for me?” he asks, detached hands groping your body. When you nod and give him permission to fuck you, he grins something evil. He attaches his hands and manoeuvres you up the bed so your head is against the pillows. He wastes no time pushing his cock into you; if you haven't woken up the neighbours yet, then you definitely will when Buggy starts to thrust his hips. “You look so pretty under me,” he coos. “I should take you to sea with me so I can fuck you on my ship every day,” he says. You know you're close; you feel the tension building inside you. Buggy knows it, too. He can feel your pussy clenching down around him. Right as the tension is about to snap, Buggy pulls his cock out of you, stopping your orgasm in its tracks. You cry out in frustration.

“It's okay, I got you. I just need you to turn over for me,” he says, helping you turn onto your hands and knees. He slowly pushes his cock back into your waiting pussy. He slides a hand over the skin of your back, and then he pauses. He spots the mark on the back of your shoulder. It's a love bite Shanks had given you during your last hookup a few days prior to Buggy arriving. “Who else are you fucking?” he asks, filled with rage. You want him to continue, but you're unsure how he'll react to hearing Shanks' name after all this time.

“Bug, listen-” He doesn't listen. Buggy’s insecurity and the feelings for you he's mostly ignored have risen to the surface. He drapes his whole body over yours to speak directly into your ear.

“If you want to cum, you better tell me who else has been inside of my woman” His voice is low and threatening, and it has you gushing and clenching around him.

“Shanks,” You say, trying to move on Buggy's cock that's still inside of you. Buggy goes completely silent, not growling and panting like he had been seconds ago. It's like his rage has been quelled.

“red-haired?” he asks in shock. You nod the best you can while being squished underneath him. You're expecting another spell of rage, but you feel Buggy's smile against your skin instead. “you promise it's only us?”

“Yes, Buggy. I promise. Now please make me cum” you whimper. Buggy gives in immediately, rutting his hips against yours with reckless abandon. If anything, he's more passionate and determined to make you cum after finding out you've also been with his self-declared nemesis.

“Cum for me,” he says, voice easily cutting through your moans. Your body obeys him without question, slamming face-first into your orgasm like you were made just for him. He cums along with you, pulling out and spilling over your back. Once you've both finished, he reaches for the tissues you keep on the bedside table and wipes his cum off your back.

He then carefully picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet seat. He starts running the shower. As he waits for the water to heat up, he brushes his teeth and tongue with the spare toothbrush you keep for him. He jokes that you can kiss him now and laughs when he looks down at you to see you puckering your lips. He indulges, pressing an overly dramatic kiss to your lips. He tries to calm his heart when you laugh at his silliness, but he can no longer deny his feelings. To distract himself, he ushers you into the shower so he can clean you up properly. He's got both of you clean and in your bed within no time.

He lies next to you in bed, indulging himself in the domestic side of you despite knowing he's got to leave for another voyage tomorrow. He lets you press kisses all over his face and ask him questions about his adventures that he's more than happy to fill you in on. After a while, a comfortable silence fills your bedroom, and Buggy thinks you're finally going to fall asleep so he can leave. He's not quite so lucky; amidst the silence, you raise a hand to cup his cheek and say something that makes his heart feel like it's about to burst out of his chest.

“You're so pretty without makeup, Bug” He's not used to these kinds of compliments, and he buries his face in your neck, grumbling at you to ‘shut the fuck up and go to sleep.’ You listen, giggling as you get comfortable against your pillows.

You hear Buggy call you the most precious jewel on the grand line and realise he must think you’re asleep. You don’t have the heart to wake up and embarrass him so you keep your eyes closed as you take in his sweet compliments and confessions he could never say to you whilst awake.

When you wake up, Buggy is gone from your bed. You check the guest room to see new sheets have been put on the bed, and you look out the window to see your soiled sheets freshly washed and on the line. You smile to yourself as you go downstairs to make breakfast for yourself. Both of your men now know you're sleeping with both of them and if your calculations are correct - and all goes well on their voyages - then both of your men will return to your village on the same day.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A few days pass, and your shifts feel boring without your pirate men bothering you the whole time. You had taken to dressing up a little more for work just in case one of them comes back early and walks into the bar while you're on shift.

Tonight, you're wearing a black minidress and thigh-high boots. You know you look good, having spent 10 minutes staring yourself down in the mirror before leaving the house. Neither of your men showed up at the bar. You'd heard whispers about a pirate ship docking up and gotten your hopes up. You swing open your front door, sulking over the lack of your not-yet boyfriends. However, when you wander through the door, you notice a tall figure blocking the doorway to your living room. At first, he startles you, but you give him a warm smile when you finally realise who it is.

“Hi, Mr.Beckman”, you say, offering him your hand, which he presses a kiss to. He informs you that his captain is waiting for you in the living room, and then he takes his leave after apologising for invading your privacy. You tell him he's welcome anytime and thank him as he leaves your home, leaving you with the red-haired man you find sitting on your sofa.

“Shanks!” you yell, surprised that he's come home a day early. He stands up to catch you as you run into his arm. He picks you up and spins you around, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “You're early”, you point out.

“We were ahead of schedule, and I wanted to see my girl,” he says, pulling you in for a proper kiss. “this dress looks so good on you”, he groans into the kiss before pulling back and asking you to do a twirl so he can check you out properly. He whistles lowly as his eyes take in every inch of your body, all dressed up for him.

“I wore this for you. I've been waiting for you to come back. Why don't you come see what's underneath it?” you say, guiding his big hand under your dress. When Shanks finds his path to your cunt, unobstructed by any panties, he laughs. He moves his hand from your dress, smoothing down the skirt of your dress and then lifting his hand to your chin to tilt your face towards him.

“As much as I want you to give me a proper welcome home, I need to talk to you,” he says, pecking your lips and sitting on the sofa. Shanks pats the space next to him, and you sit down, tucking yourself into his side. “I heard rumours kicking around that my sweet girl has been getting cosy with another pirate”, he says, and you roll your eyes at him, partially because he won't be mad when he finds out who it is and partially because you're not exclusive with either of them.

“It's Buggy,” you say, swinging a leg over Shanks to straddle his lap. His momentarily stormy expression relaxes when he hears the name of the third party in your trio.

“Buggy?”

“I know, I was surprised too. It's like fate is trying to keep us together. I've always belonged to you guys,” You say, grinding your hips down over his hardening cock. Neither you nor Shanks have ever been shy about how you feel about Buggy, but he was always too prideful to admit his feelings. Shanks is smiling now that he knows you haven't been disloyal to him. “he'll be back tomorrow if everything goes to plan,” you say.

“I'd bet you'd like having us both together, wouldn't you, baby?” he teases, bucking his hips upwards and knocking you forward into his chest. “you'd like to take both our cocks in this slutty pussy” The addition of Buggy, though he's not physically there, has ignited Shanks. He's launched into action, talking filthy in your ear as you grind your bare pussy over his crotch. “But you'll have to deal with just me tonight. Is one cock gonna be enough to fuck my greedy girl?”

You nod frantically, adjusting yourself so that you're grinding against his thigh. He chuckles at your eagerness and guides your hips over his leg. You ride his thigh as he leans back into the sofa cushions and watches you. He keeps his hand settled on your hips as you drag your pussy over the muscle of his thigh. Shanks notices you're getting close to an orgasm and tightens his grip to stop you from reaching your high. You whine in protest, and he can tell you're about to start complaining, but he cuts you off himself.

“I want to taste your cum”, he says, pushing you to stand up. He laughs as you stand on wobbly legs. He tugs at the bottom of your dress, signalling for you to take it off while he removes his clothes. He pauses between removing articles of clothing to watch you shimmy the dress down your pretty body and kick it off. Seeing you naked is better than any treasure Shanks could find at sea. Once he's naked, he lies back against the sofa and then beckons you back over to him. “take a seat”, he instructs, helping you straddle his face without falling off the couch.

You lean forward, taking a testing lick at his cock as his tongue makes contact with your pussy. He wastes no time shoving his tongue into your hole and licking at your walls. You moan loudly as you begin to take his cock into your mouth. His cock is thick, and it tests the stretch of your pretty lips. Shanks moves his tongue so your clit, licking and sucking at it as you start to bob your head.

You're both laser-focused on making each other cum. Shanks suctions his mouth around your clit, flicking his tongue over it as he makes out with your pussy. Considering he only has one arm, his grip on you is steady as he holds you in place. You try your best to take his cock as far as you can, and when you take him to the base without choking, you feel the vibrations of his moans against your pussy. Shanks is always vocal, letting you know how good you are.

You start to struggle when you get close to your orgasm. You can't focus on sucking him or bobbing your head while you're moaning and whimpering.

“OK, baby. That's enough,” he says, squeezing your thighs to keep your attention on his words. “Just let me make you cum”, he says, pulling back down to his face once again. His grip is sturdy and keeps you steady as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. He loudly cleans up every single drop from your cunt. Your tense, shaking muscles don't phase him as he holds you in place. He only lets go once he's sure you're done.

Shanks helps you up before standing up and grabbing your hand, letting you pull him through the house and into your bedroom. He lifts you with one arm and kisses you before planting you onto your bed. He tells you to lay back against the pillows, and you follow without question. Shanks climbs onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs.

“You're so beautiful”, he says, staring at your naked body so intensely that his gaze has you shifting in discomfort.

“stop staring at it and just fuck me” you whine. Shanks looks up at you with a dark grin that reminds you of who you're dealing with. You've had your soft, warm welcome home, and now it's playtime. Shanks is far more in control than Buggy; riling up Shanks isn't as easy. A little bit of attitude and lack of manners is a good start.

“You wanna tell me what to do, princess?” he asks, you know it's a rhetorical question but you answer anyway.

“I'm not telling you what to do. I'm just giving you a heavy-handed suggestion,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but you know he's enjoying it; his cock is hard and leaking. He uses his strength to turn you over onto your hands and knees. Once you're in position, he lands a smack on your bare ass, making you gasp.

“How's that for heavy-handed?” he says, massaging the area he had smacked to soothe it.

“More”, you sigh, “Please, Captain”. He groans at the title. You had taken to calling him captain in the bedroom; it is his official title, and it's a reminder of his strength and power. He obliges, giving you a few more swats on the ass before rolling you back over so you can lean your head against the pillows.

“Do you misbehave for Buggy too, or are you a good girl for him?” he asks, leaning over to look into your eyes. He knows your answer is going to annoy him when he sees the cocky smile that settles on your face.

“It's neither. Buggy is a good boy for me,” Shanks laughs, not at all surprised by your confession. “Although he did take charge last time, I guess being a yonko boosted his confidence,” you said, smiling while remembering your most recent time with Buggy. Shanks is still looking at you with his eyebrow raised. “And I was good as gold for him”, you tease, tangling your hands in his red locks and pulling him into a kiss.

“You can behave for other men, but you can't help yourself with me," he says, pressing his fingers to your mouth. You obey his wordless instructions and take them into your mouth. Now that you're gagged, Shanks can speak without backtalk, and your pussy drools with every word that leaves his mouth. “I was going to be nice; fuck you nice and slow and make love to you, but you just can't help running this bratty mouth. I missed my sweet girl and her perfect pussy, but now I have to deny myself to teach you a lesson.” he pulls his fingers from your mouth, waiting to hear a quiet “sorry, captain” from you.

When you apologise, he presses his thumb against your clit and rubs in circles, chuckling at the way you moan out and open your legs. He pushes two spit-soaked fingers into your hole and warns you to keep still as your hips buck up into his hand. You try your best to stay still as Shanks, who holds an unbothered expression on his face, plays with your pussy. He rubs your clit with his thumb while he fingers you. Having one arm has aided with his fingering skills. He hasn't set a rule on volume, and he never has; in all the punishments he's given you, he's never cut off your ability to tell him how good he makes you feel. He's too enamoured with your voice to gag you for more than two minutes. You moan and whimper and beg for him to speed up. The stimulation he's providing you with feels so good, but it's not enough to send you over the edge.

His cock is red and drooling precum. You know he's as desperate as you are, but he's holding himself off.

“Don't you wanna feel good, Captain? I can jerk you off,” you say, reaching out towards him. He shakes his head, pulling his fingers from your cunt only to slap it, fingers smacking harshly against your clit, making you yelp. You're so close to cumming.

“thought I told you to keep fucking still”, he growls, returning to his task of slowly fingering for you. He looks up at your face, expression faltering at the tears starting to pool in your eyes. “Just be good for me, sweetheart,” he says, his voice softening. His cock twitches when he hears you say an obedient “Yes, Captain.”

He speeds up his fingers, fucking you right close to the edge and then stopping as he feels your walls start to spasm around his fingers. Having your orgasm ripped away from you prompts the tears to start falling. Shanks leans down to kiss away your tears, whispering about how pretty you look. You know what he wants to hear.

“I'm sorry, Captain. I promise I'll be good,” you beg. Shanks smiles softly, pressing his fingers to your entrance. “Please, I need to cum. I promise I won't be a brat.”

Shanks cuts off your begging by kissing you, messily pushing his tongue into your mouth. He pushes his fingers back inside of you and thrusts, curling them against your walls.

“Cum whenever you want,” he says against your mouth, intimidating demeanour gone and replaced with your sappy, loving man. You cum with a cry of his name, legs attempting to close around his hand. He works you through it, cooing at you as you gush around his fingers. He pulls his fingers from your pussy and licks them clean as you regain your breath. “tastes so fucking good.”

You watch him intently as he spits onto your pussy and uses his cock to spread it between your folds. You're still sensitive and the feeling makes you twitch. Shanks smiles at you as he pushes his cock inside you, pressing kisses on your face as you whimper at the way his cock stretches your pussy. He starts to thrust, making you arch against him. Your hands reach up to his hair as he sloppily makes out with you. When he pulls away from the messy kiss, you whine his name.

“What is it, princess?” he asks. You wordlessly open your mouth, tongue lolling out. Shanks doesn't need to be told what you want. He spits into your mouth, whispering praises as you swallow. “See what happens when you're a good girl for me?” he says, kissing you again.

Shanks is committed to making you cum, hips laying heavy thrusts as his cock all but splits you open. His lips trail over your skin like a fountain pen on paper, signing his name in invisible ink. His voice has your mind reeling. You feel delirious. You're close already, and Shanks can tell.

“Wait for me, baby. I'm almost there”, He groans, feeling the first signs of his own orgasm. You're not sure if you can hold off any longer, and you tell Shanks as much as your nails cling to his back muscles. He gives you permission to cum, and you fall right over the edge along with him. Your pussy spasms around his cock, milking him for all he's worth while you gush around him. He says something to you, but all you can make out is your name. As you start to calm, Shanks stays inside you, laying his full body weight on you.

“you wanna know something, baby?”

“hmm”

“I've been in love with you since we were eleven,” he says like it's nothing. You go to protest, but he cuts you off to continue. “Buggy is too.”

“This is just the pussy making you talk crazy,” you say, too tired to deal with Shanks's bullshit.

“Nuh-uh. Bug and I used to talk about it whenever you went crying to Rayleigh that we were picking on you.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“We found our way back to you, didn't we? Do you really think we'd be using this tiny island in the middle of nowhere as a base if we weren't obsessed with you?” He says, hand-drawing patterns over your skin.

“Whatever. Just pull out and go to sleep” You huff, and Shanks does as you ask, gently pulling out of you and rolling onto his back. He waits for you to roll over before tucking himself against your back, pulling flush against his chest. He presses a kiss to your shoulder and lets you get comfortable. Just as he's about to drift off, you softly call his name.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks.

“Say I do love you back; what would happen?”

“Honestly, not much. We'd just be official. We can stop acting like this is just sexual. If Buggy can man up and admit his feelings, we can admit nothing between us was ever casual, and it was always supposed to be this way,” he says matter of factly. You nod, turning over in his arm so you can Bury your face in his chest.

“Good night, Shanks.”

“Good night, Baby.”

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next morning, Shanks follows you around town like a lost puppy, shadowing you as you buy groceries for the bar. He helps you carry the bags back and even helps you put away your bags when you get back. He can't help but sneak kisses between tasks, not being discreet about your feelings for each other. He's also more antsy than usual; he's sticking close to you, looking around like a meerkat and absentmindedly playing with the fabric of your top when he isn't carrying something for you.

“Are you okay? You're not usually this antsy,” you say, pressing the back of your hand against his forehead like you're taking his temperature.

“I'm just keeping an eye out for Buggy” It's kind of sweet how desperately he wants to include Buggy.

“You'll hear him before you see him,” you say, making Shanks chuckle fondly. “And that probably won't be until later tonight. When he docks up here, I usually don't see him until my shift,” you inform him. Shanks nods, chilling out with your words.

A couple of his crewmates are already drinking in your bar as you clean up, so you're ready to open. Shanks’ men are nicer to you than Buggy's. Beckman is always a gentleman; he's even played security guard for you several times, kicking out patrons who wouldn't take no for an answer. When you ask Yasopp to lift his feet so you can sweep under his table, he swings his boots onto the chair opposite him with a sharp salute and a “yes, ma'am” that has you rolling your eyes.

In comparison, Buggy's crew aren't as welcoming. His business partners have never caused any problems when he's brought them in. Crocodile and Mihawk were initially intimidating, but you won them over with your selection of wine and the knowledge that you were once an apprentice of the pirate king. Alvida was happy to have another woman to talk to after being stuck with Buggy for so long. Outside of those three, his underlings had been rather cold, and you've occasionally had to shut down the bar due to their rowdiness. You dread the two crews meeting tonight and hope the relationship between the captains can enforce an amicable atmosphere between the crews.

Your coworker comes in to complete the opening and leaves you to get ready in the staff room. Your outfit consists of a black mini skirt and a matching black top. You've already done your hair and makeup, and you know Shanks is going to have a hard time keeping his hands off of you until Buggy shows up.

As you walk back into the bar, your heels clack against the wood floor. You get a few whistles from Shanks' crew, and you're all but ambushed by the red-haired man himself, who basically corners you against the bar. His crew are no strangers to the affection between you and Shanks, so once they're done teasing their captain, they leave you be. Shanks wraps his arm around you, complimenting your outfit choice.

“Do you think you can behave yourself until Buggy gets here?” you ask as Shanks' hand cheekily slips beneath your skirt. You're suddenly reminded of Buggy doing the same thing to you with his hand. You roll your eyes at the similar tastes of your men.

“I don't know. You look good enough to eat”, Shanks growls, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek with an embarrassingly loud ‘muah’ noise that has your coworker fake gagging behind the bar. Shanks reluctantly lets you go and takes a seat at the bar. He watches you busy yourself with refilling his crew's drinks while you both wait for Buggy's arrival.

You don't have to wait long. About half an hour into your shift, the door swings open and Buggy storms in. He's by himself, meaning he probably saw Shanks through the window and sent his crew away. He's also red in the face - whether from embarrassment or rage is unclear.

“SHANKS” He yells, the top half of his body flying over to where Shanks is sitting while his legs run to catch up. Shanks looks up at Buggy fondly, and memories of your time together as a trio come flooding back as you observe them. Buggy screams something about Shanks embarrassing and betraying him, which Shanks merely laughs off. Buggy pauses mid-rant when his eyes land on you. “Hi y/n”

“Hi, Buggy,” you smile back, leaning over the bar to pull him into a kiss that clearly shocks him as it almost knocks his hat off. Shanks tilts his hat back onto his head and kisses Buggy's cheek, making him so flustered that you can practically see the steam radiating off him.

“Why don't we take our girl home and have a real conversation?” suggests Shanks. Buggy, unable to respond coherently, just nods, and Shanks tells you to get your stuff ready. You apologise to your coworker on the way out, who simply says she already knew this would happen. You and Shanks animatedly talk about the past while Buggy is uncharacteristically quiet, interjecting with his own point of view every so often. When you enter your house, you sit on the sofa, leaving your men to sit on either side of you.

“Why do we have to talk,” Buggy grumbles, tugging at the fabric of your skirt. “Why can't we just tear this off you, fuck you and then talk another time.”

“Because I don't want any problems between my favourite guys,” you say, batting your eyelashes at Buggy. Buggy gives in embarrassingly quickly, looking up at Shanks, who's bearing a similar expression to you. Buggy's heart squeezes as the feelings he's spent years suppressing rise to the surface.

“I'm not sure what I did to make you hate me,” says Shanks, but Buggy cuts him off.

“I don't hate you. I never hated you. I was willing to follow you through hell. We were supposed to find the one piece together, but then you changed your mind. I felt betrayed”

“I'm sorry, Buggy. I really am.” Shanks says, reaching across you to caress Buggy's cheeks. Buggy leans into the affection, making you smile warmly.

“Whatever. Can we get to the good stuff now? we'll handle all the emotions later.” Buggy says as his detached hand grazes Shanks’ crotch. “Besides, I think our princess wants some attention.” Shanks turns his attention to you, laughing at the pouty expression on your face. He is not done revelling in the fact that he finally has his two favourite people in front of him, so Shanks pulls Buggy in for a kiss that Buggy reciprocates with a quiet moan. They're clearly happy to have each other back, so while they kiss, you lean in and push Shanks's coat off his shoulders, pressing a kiss on his neck as you do so. When Shanks pulls away, he has a smear of lipstick around his mouth, making both Buggy and you laugh.

“You want some lipstick too, baby?” he asks, pulling you in for an enthusiastic kiss. Your teeth almost clash with how much force he puts into the kiss. It reminds you of how Buggy kisses you. It feels like he's overwhelmed and trying to pour some of his feelings onto you with his tongue, which he pushes into your mouth. You feel Buggy's mouth pressing against your neck as his hand plays with the front of your skirt. Buggy also lifts his head when you pull away from the steamy kiss. You can see how hard Shanks is, and you're sure Buggy is no different.

“There's more room on my bed than on here,” you say, starting to stand. Shanks also rises and lifts you over his shoulder. Buggy leads the way to your room, though Shanks is more than familiar with the layout of your house and lets one of his hands fly over to your ass. Your skirt isn't long enough to cover your whole ass in this position, so Buggy takes the opportunity to squeeze and grope your ass. You're thankful that Shanks is sturdy enough to be unphased by your squirming. Shanks drops you on the bed, leaving both of the men towering over you at the edge of the bed.

“There's still one thing that hasn't been addressed”, Says Shanks, twirling Buggy's hair around his finger. “Our insatiable girl has been fucking us for months behind each other's backs” You go to defend yourself and remind them that you were never exclusive with either of them, but Buggy's hands grab at you and pull you to sit up at the edge of your bed.

“You're right. I think she should have to answer for her actions. Any flashy punishments in mind?” Buggy asks. Shanks thinks it over for a second, picturing in his head all the positions both he and Buggy could put you in.

“You know how sensitive she is”, says Shanks and Buggy nods, more than familiar with how receptive you are to his touch. “I say we give her exactly what she wants; make her cum over and over again until her pretty body can't take anymore.” He says. It almost frustrates you how well they know you. Overstimulation is easy to achieve with you, and it's the perfect punishment that involves getting their dicks wet.

“I say one orgasm for every month she was hiding us from each other. When did you start seeing us, sweetheart?” Buggy asks, using his hand to keep your eyes on him. You know you can't lie. You started seeing Shanks first, and he's fully aware of how long he's had you back.

“Six months”, you say, your voice quiet. You're not even sure if you can handle that many orgasms, but you're willing to try. Both men start to strip as Buggy gruffly tells you to do the same. You're completely naked, and the two men are both in their underwear. Shanks instructs Buggy to sit up against the pillows on your bed. You do as you're told, as Shanks tells you to sit between Buggy's legs and back against his chest.

When you're in position, Shanks lies on his front, pulling you slightly down the bed so he can get a better angle to lick at your cunt. He shoves his tongue into your pussy, eating you out with vigour. He drags his tongue back up to your clit, lapping at it and then sucking at it. Your back arches away from Buggy as you cry out in pleasure. Buggy reaches up to play with your tits, adding to your stimulation. Shanks pushes two thick fingers into your pussy, as he all but makes out with it. Your fingers tangle in Shanks's beautiful red locks, similar to how he's tangled up in your heartstrings.

“Talk to us, pretty girl. Does that feel good?” Buggy asks, taking the lobe of your ear between his teeth. You frantically nod, and Shanks's tongue sends shockwaves through your whole body.

“Feels amazing”

“You gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod again, gasping out a yes as you feel the familiar stirring in your stomach. “You hear that, Shanks? She's gonna cum”

Shanks waits until your moans start to shake and then pulls away, slipping his fingers out your soaked cunt and over your shoulder into Buggy's waiting mouth. Having your orgasm ripped out from under you has you crying out and writhing in Buggy's arms. Buggy's unbothered by your whining as he sucks your juices off of Shanks’ fingers. He moves his arms down to wrap around your waist. The sigh has Shanks palming himself through his underwear. Shanks looks down at you, heart softening as your eyes, wet with frustration, blink up at him. You're not being bratty today, something that surprises him. You're far too excited to have both lovers in one place to act up now.

“I said we'd give you six orgasms. I didn't say we'd give them to you easily,” says Shanks, making Buggy laugh in your ear at the way you groan. You should've known the punishment would go further. Shanks leans back down to finish his meal but stops short of actually pressing his mouth to you to tease his fingers at the entrance to your hole. You beg him to do something, eyes screwed shut in frustration. Both men coo at your desperation. “I would if only I had something a bit thicker to fill up this pretty pussy with,” he says, holding his hand out to Buggy, who grumbles something about Shanks being annoying. You can feel that Buggy’s hard cock is no longer pressing against your back, and when you open your eyes, it's in Shanks's hand. “Open that pretty mouth and stick out your tongue”, he orders.

When you open your mouth, Shanks spits onto your waiting tongue and lays Buggy's cock down on it. You hear Buggy hiss at the sensation of your tongue against his cock. Shanks spits over Buggy's cock, using his tongue to spread the saliva. You can't believe how turned on you are by this. You didn't even consider using his power in the bedroom like this. Buggy is whimpering in your ear; the sound only makes you wetter.

“Stop teasing. We're supposed to punish her, not me,” says Buggy. Shanks apologises and pulls away, instructing you to suck Buggy's cock. You obey, egged on by the praise Buggy throws at you. Shank's pulls Buggy's cock from your mouth and pushes it into your hole. Both you and Buggy moan. Shanks's eyes are fixed on where Buggy’s cock is stretching you out. He slowly starts to move, and Buggy's grip on you tightens.

“How does she feel, Bug?”

“Warm. So fucking tight,” Buggy moans. Shanks leans down to continue his earlier task of licking at your sensitive clit. This time he doesn't stop licking and sucking until you're sent over the edge. Buggy is close too but holds off the best he can while your pussy clenches around him. You moan their names as Shanks stays in position between your legs, licking you through your high. When he finally sits up on his knees, he pulls Buggy's throbbing cock from your pussy and holds it up to your lips.

“Be a good girl and finish him off”, Shanks says, whispering encouragement as you accept it into your mouth.

“Fuck, Shanks let go of it. Hold her head in place,” growls Buggy. Shanks listens, moving his hand to get a firm grip on your hair, holding you in place as Buggy starts to face fuck you. You can feel Buggy clinging to you, telling you how good your mouth feels. It doesn't take long for Buggy to cum down your throat, and you do your best to swallow the whole load. Some drips from your mouth, which Shanks is quick to clean up with his tongue. Buggy's cock goes back to his body while Shanks helps turn you over so that you're straddling Buggy. Buggy immediately pulls you into a messy kiss as Shanks sits back to appreciate the two of you.

“You're both so pretty” He coos.

“You red-haired idiot, don't say things like that”, Buggy whines, obviously flustered.

You let Shanks guide you to the middle of the bed and bend you over, shoving a pillow beneath your hips for comfort. You hear Shanks ask Buggy to hand over his belt; moments later, your hands are secured behind your back. Shanks, who's now removed his underwear, slides his hard cock between your folds. He teases your hole, pushing his tip in and then pulling away. He waits a second to take in your pretty noises before giving in to your whining and pushing his cock. He's been hard since he saw you at the beginning of your bar shift, so it's a miracle he doesn't cum as soon as he feels your pussy wrapped around his cock. He lets out a moan that has both you and Buggy drooling from how good it sounds. Shanks starts to thrust and tells Buggy to watch how well you take his cock.

Buggy, who's tying his hair out of the way, looks up at Shanks, who tells him how pretty he looks. Buggy hasn't adjusted to how sappy Shanks is and flushes completely red. Instead of answering, he just pulls Shanks into an aggressive kiss. You can hear the sounds of their kisses behind you, and the sound makes you gush around his cock.

“You feel so fucking good”, groans Shanks, reaching, running his hand down your back to grip your hair and pull you upward against his chest. Buggy moves on the bed and is now in front of you. He kisses you and reaches a hand down to rub your clit. You moan into Buggy's mouth as he speeds up his fingers. “You're squeezing me so hard,” says Shanks, heavy thrusts jolting you forward.

You cum as Shanks ruts into you, chasing his own high. Your cries of pleasure make it difficult to kiss you, so Buggy moves his mouth to the crook of your neck, cooing praises into your skin. You hear Shanks behind you moaning and cursing, dangerously close to the edge with the way your pussy walls clench around him. He cums with a shaky groan, filling you up with his cum. He relinquishes his grip on your hair, chuckling fondly as you slump forward against Buggy. Shanks massages the sore area with his hand, giving you a moment to breathe.

“How many orgasms have you had now, pretty girl?” asks Shanks.

“Two”, you say, a satisfied smile spreading across your face.

“Good girl, make sure you don't lose count.” Shanks and Buggy both guide you to lie on your back, and Shanks tells Buggy to hold your legs open. Buggy does as he's told, holds your legs spread, and pushes up your chest. Shanks grabs hold of Buggy's hair and pushes him down between your legs. “Clean her up for me.”

Buggy nods as he sticks his tongue inside of your cum filled Buggy. Shanks watches as Buggy eats Shanks's cum out of you. Buggy is eager to please as he licks at your cunt. It took him a while to get the hang of eating you out when you first started hooking up, but now he has an understanding of your body that no one else has. He works you over with his tongue, your post-orgasm sensitivity pushing you to the edge quickly. If you're this sensitive already, you dread to think how you'll feel after the next few orgasms you've been promised. Shanks looks from Buggy's face to yours and immediately recognises how close you are. He tells Buggy you're near and to make you cum now. Buggy pays extra attention to your clit as you attempt to buck up into his face. He holds you down as his tongue sends you over the edge and straight into an orgasm.

You writhe as you cum, drenching Buggy's face. Buggy remains unmoved, tongue still working at you even when you start to come down again. In fact, Buggy doesn't let up at all when your third orgasm quells; he pushes two fingers into you, ready to send you into a fourth orgasm. You're ascending from one plane of existence to the next as Buggy has the next orgasm building so quickly after your last. Every nerve in your body tingles and an odd feeling settles in your lower stomach.

Shanks looks on in awe; watching his two fated mates so animalistic has him too enamoured to even worry about his hardening cock. He's sure the way you're crying out for them is disturbing your neighbours, but he doesn't have it in him to care. Shanks watches as Buggy adds another finger. The pleasure is so intense that you shift up the bed, instinctively searching for something other than the sheets to grip. Shanks moves his hand from Buggy's hair to your face, caressing your cheek and running his thumb over your lips.

“Don't run from it, princess. Let Buggy make you cum” he says, voice soft. As if on cue, you're launched into another mind-blowing orgasm. It takes a second to register that you're gushing all over Buggy's face because Buggy seems completely unbothered by it, continuing to work you through your high and prolong your orgasm. Your body feels momentarily numb as you arch off the bed, shaking as you soak the sheets beneath you. Buggy finally relents, shifting back onto his knees, wiping his face with the back of his hand and messing up his makeup. You notice the way his face, neck and torso are dripping with your juices. You feel panic rise at the fact you've just squirted everywhere, but Shanks immediately stomps it back down by pulling you into a kiss.

Once you're rolled into a spot where you're not lying in a pool of cum, you get a glance of yourself in the mirror and almost recoil in shock. Your hair is messy, and your face is covered in smudged and transferred makeup. Your body is littered with remnants of lipstick and hickeys. When you look up at Shanks and Buggy, who look equally roughed up, they're staring at you with fondness in their eyes. You can't believe the men above you are looking at you with such hunger when you look this much of a mess.

“You're so beautiful,” says Shanks. Buggy's lipstick transferred onto your face almost makes it look like you have messy clown makeup on, and it causes a stir in Shanks’ crotch that he takes note of for future reference - maybe he’ll ask you to dig in Buggy’s makeup bag. Buggy is kneeling next to him, leaning on his shoulder to catch his breath. Most of his makeup is gone, having been transferred onto you and Shanks, but he still looks radiant to you. He has a smile settled on his face, a soft, content smile you don't see often from him. It makes your stomach warm to know you have this level of connection with two people. “Do you want to stop? We can stop if it's too much. Four orgasms is alot,” says Shanks, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he observes your ragged breathing. You frantically shake your head, immediately having an answer for him.

“I don't wanna stop,” you whine. You might be sensitive, but you crave as much of them as you can get. “Please. I want more,” you beg. You move your exhausted body to kneel in front of Shanks and push him down to lie on his back. Shanks easily does what you want him to, lying back but using his elbow to hold himself up and watch you.

You crawl on top of Shanks, straddling his hips and stare down his torso, examining the canvas on which you and Buggy have made art; bright red lipstick and shiny lip gloss cover his neck and chest. You don't waste any more time, grabbing ahold of his hard cock and guiding it to your hole so you can sink down on it. You feel Buggy's presence behind you and pull him closer to you so he can help guide you down. Buggy tells you to bend forward so he can join in. He grabs a bottle of lube from the night side table, spreads it over his fingers and pushes two against the tight rim of your hole. You gasp and clench around Shanks, who groans but is careful not to jolt you. Buggy works you open with his fingers until you've had enough and beg him to fuck you properly.

“Please put it in. I can take it. I need it so bad,” you beg, knowing Buggy would give it to you anyway. Shanks laughs from beneath you.

“Weren't you all fucked out from four orgasms like ten minutes ago?” He asks, amused by your sudden eagerness. “I didn't know you had crazy stamina,” he comments. Neither did you. Buggy pulls his fingers out of you and lines his cock up with your ass hole. His hands grip your hips, a steady presence as he pushes inside you.

You let out a strangled moan as they're both bottomed out inside of you; you've never been this full before. The three of you take a second to breathe, and in the silence, it hits you: you're physically connected to the two people you love most. You've always been theirs, always connected with them beyond romance, and always believed that your very livelihoods are intertwined. You're overcome with a feeling of genuine love.

“Please move. I need you so bad,” you whimper. Your heightened emotions have tears building in your eyes that don't go unnoticed by Shanks, who looks over your shoulder at Buggy and signals him to start moving. Both men begin to thrust, and it feels so good you find yourself clawing at Shanks’ chest. Shanks’ cock twitches inside you at the thought of the marks that will be left behind. The feeling of both men filling you up quickly overwhelms you, and the tears spill down your cheeks.

“Oh, pretty girl, you're crying for us. Does it feel that good?” coos Shanks. He reaches his hand up to wipe at the tears. Buggy’s lips trail your shoulder blades as he whispers praises into your skin. Your legs start to shake, and you can barely support yourself. You're about to cum again, and both men can feel it.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Your ass feels amazing,” moans Buggy. “Cum for us. I know you want to,” he says, hand reaching around to rub your clit. Your hand intertwines with Shanks’, and you pin it down to the bed by his head, squeezing his palm as you approach your orgasm. Shanks tries the best he can to fuck up into you harder, planting his feet on the bed for leverage.

Your orgasm is intense, and you sob about how good it feels as you lose your balance and slump forward to bury your face in Shanks’ neck. Shanks and Buggy continue their movements, chasing their orgasms. You barely have time to recover before you cum again, holes spasming around your men. Your vision goes white, your body goes numb, and you gush all over Shanks’ torso. Buggy is next to follow, teeth sinking into your skin as he fills you up. Then Shanks cums with a pretty moan before stilling inside you. You all stay in this position; naked, connected and in a sticky mess of cum and sweat. You're on the verge of passing out, so Buggy is uncharacteristically gentle as he pulls out, shushing you when you whine at the feeling. Buggy helps Shanks lift you off of him, and then the pair of them get you over to the guest bed so Buggy can clean you up. Shanks strips your bed and prepares your sheets for cleaning first thing in the morning. Buggy finishes cleaning up the mess of cum between your legs and over your hips and starts to wipe at your makeup that was ruined by his own cosmetics. Shanks returns to the guest bedroom and leans against the doorframe to watch the intimate moment between you and Buggy. A smile settles on his lips as he watches Buggy steal a kiss while wiping your makeup off.

“Ready for bed, you two?” he asks as Buggy throws away the wipes. Your bed is only a double, so the sleeping arrangement ends up being you fully on top of Shanks, resting your head on his chest. Buggy tucks himself into Shanks’ side and rests an arm over you.

“Love you,” you mumble as you drift off. Buggy doesn't respond, as he is too flustered. Instead, he kisses your temple and lies back down to you in slumber.

“I love you too, baby. I love both of you,” says Shanks before closing his eyes.

✩♬ ₊˚.☁️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You wake up with your whole body feeling sore and drained of energy. You're noticeably alone, but you can hear the hushed voices of your lovers. You roll over to see them standing by the window, engrossed in conversation. Shanks is tucking Buggy's hair behind his ear, and Buggy looks like he’s been crying. You can’t see Shanks’ face, but imagine his expression must be similar.

“What are you guys talking about?” you ask, sitting up. Both men turn to you, looking startled. They hadn’t expected you to be awake yet. Buggy quickly wipes his tears, and Shanks wanders to the bed, sitting beside you.

“We were just clearing the air. You know that a lot happened between us, and Buggy and I were just working out our share of issues so that we could move forward with each other,” he says, leaning in to kiss your forehead and lips. Buggy hasn’t moved from his place by the window. “How are you feeling?” he asks, voice soft and deep.

“I’m okay. I feel sore, though,” you say, pouting at the two men who are the cause of your physical exhaustion. They both smirk at your pouty face, knowing damn well that you had asked them to wreck you.

“That's cute, baby. I didn’t mean that, though. I meant, how do you feel about our relationship?” Shanks clarifies. He calls Buggy to come and sit down with the two of you.

“I want to be official - no matter what happens, I'll always be yours - but how will it work? If you’re working towards being king of the pirates, you can't keep coming back here, or you’ll make no progress,” you say. Shanks nods, looking towards Buggy. The sombre atmosphere lifts as a smile splits across both of their faces.

“We spoke a bit about that earlier. It won’t be safe for you to stay here. If info about you gets out and other pirates try to go after you, you need to be somewhere we can protect you. So we think it would be good for you to come with one of us.” Buggy says, pausing to gauge your reaction. It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a pirate ship, but you have always been pretty good with a sword. Part of you feels nostalgic about being aboard a pirate ship again. Buggy and Shanks are both emperors so no matter who you went with, you'd be safer.

“If I do go with one of you, then what about the other?” you ask, not wanting anyone to be offended that you didn't pick them.

“Then we’ll keep in touch via den den mushi and letters. I'm sure we’ll also cross paths on some islands,” says Shanks.

“It’s been a long time since I've been part of a pirate crew, but I think I can go back if it means being with you”, you say, finally wearing a smile to match those of the men sitting next to you.

You still have a few days to think over and choose who you go with, so for now, you hold out your hands and insist one of them, who ends up being Buggy, carries you to your bathroom so that you can shower together. Shanks stares at you both with hearts in his eyes, and Buggy whisks you off to the shower.

“C’mon, red-haired, our girl needs us”, he calls from the bathroom, and Shanks appears in the doorframe moments later to see you seated on the counter while Buggy turns on the shower. You’re still naked, having not been clothed after last night, and Shanks walks over to you to stand between your legs. He leans in to press little kisses all over your skin, which you interrupt by pulling him up for a kiss.

“You two better behave in the shower, or I'll kick you out”, you say, gently scolding them for all the work they put your body through the night before. You glare at both of them, and Buggy rolls his eyes, pushing back the shower curtain so Shanks can lift you and place you under the water. Both men join you and are delicate as they wash you. They don't apologise for any marks left on you; they're pretty proud of them, but they leave little kisses on them as a thank you for bringing them back together. You had previously thought you’d been fated to a life behind that bar until the universe got your boys back to you. This feels right; it feels comfortable, and you believe in soulmates more and more as every moment passes.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

thanks for reading!!! reblogs/comments are much appreciated! ♡

tag list: @bloodfixnd

pls drop a dm or ask to be added to the taglist (if you to be tagged in one specific character list just let me know!)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[lookingfts]

Thanks to @crookedchildpanda for the prompt including JB's glasses! I am a huge sucker for that look (and so is Kate).

She’s done just fine resisting Anthony Bridgerton so far.

Well, maybe not just fine. Maybe that’s an overstatement when she still loses her breath at that dark flash in his eyes that comes out when she’s competing with him over something stupid. When she spends hours thinking up new insults, new criticisms, new weaknesses to needle at to piss him off the way he regularly pisses her off. When she lays in bed and thinks about his eyes, his jaw, his mouth, the annoyingly perfect cut of his face and his body as she touches herself.

But she’ll never actually fuck him, she swears. Kate will not be a notch on the bedpost of London’s most notorious trust fund slut. She absolutely refuses, no matter how many times he looks at her a little too long or brushes a hand over the small of her back or murmurs in her ear and she’s instantly horny in a way that feels like a medical condition.

In the end, it’s a complete surprise. The thing that does her in.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Kate asks extremely impolitely over the table at brunch. Anthony hasn’t even sat down yet, and all of their friends – well, her friends, his family – whip around to look at her. Whoops. Her ribbing is typically a little more…discreet than that.

He makes a show of looking down at his chest. “A jumper?”

The jumper is sexier than it should be, stretched tight over his absurd muscles, but that’s not what she means. “No, your…” He raises an eyebrow, and Kate feels heat rush to her cheeks. “Never mind, you look stupid, is all.”

It’s lame and uncreative, as far as insults go, and Kate buries her face in the menu even though she gets the same thing every time they come here. Anthony slides in across from her, and- fuck.

Does she have a glasses thing? It feels like maybe she has a glasses thing. Or maybe it’s just an Anthony-in-glasses thing, because she’s never noticed it before, and suddenly she is more attracted to him than she’s ever been to anyone in her life and fuck that, honestly, it’s so unfair.

The following ninety minutes are pure torture, as Anthony keeps looking at her and Kate steadfastly pretends not to notice, and his foot bumps against hers in a way that’s probably accidental, given their positions, but sends a sharp jolt through her nonetheless.

“I like the glasses,” Daphne says, tapping the corner of her brother’s frames as he tries to duck away. “They make you look smart.”

“They make me look old,” he protests, and Kate thinks a little hysterically about how not true that is. “But my contacts were on back order, so it’s this or be blind and walk into traffic.”

“There’s an option,” Kate says chipperly, attempting to regain some of her balance after her slip-up earlier. And Christ, that's a mistake. His eyes flash behind the glasses, and Kate thinks she has just discovered her own personal kryptonite.

She needs some air. In a performance that is probably unconvincing, but everyone else is too lost in conversation to notice, Kate pretends to feel her phone buzz and tugs it out of her pocket.

“It’s Edwina,” she says pointlessly. “I have to call her. I’ll be back.”

Her waffle lies half-eaten on the table as she strolls out of the restaurant and slumps against the wall, inhaling deeply. She will not blame herself for being an adult woman with a healthy sex drive, but she will blame herself for directing that sex drive toward fucking Anthony Bridgerton, of all people.

He’s kind awful. He’s smart arrogant and gentle condescending and he loves his family hooks up with too many women and almost certainly has some type of infection and he looks at her like he wants to take care of her conquer her.

Not for the first time, Kate wonders if she secretly wants to be conquered by him. Wonders if she could forgive herself for letting it happen.

“You’re off your game today.”

Kate jumps off the wall, her eyes snapping open. Anthony looks unbearably smug, his arms crossed over his chest as he smirks at her. “Yes, well, occasionally I do have better things to do than tear you apart, Anthony.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he hums, taking the smallest step toward her. She has a dozen ways to escape, knows Anthony would never actually pin her down, but she feels trapped anyway. Trapped by his gaze and the heat from his body and the shiver of arousal that travels slowly down her spine. “If I’d known the glasses would do something for you, I would have worn them ages ago.”

It should be taunting, but his voice is unexpectedly soft. Like he’s not teasing her. Like he means it. “Who says I care about your glasses?”

That would have worked better if she didn’t sound so shaky. Anthony leans toward her a little more, his confidence growing in small bursts, and this is humiliating. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s creaming her knickers over this man she wants hates so much.

Anthony swallows, his eyes trailing over her face, and all she feels is desire. In her blood, in his gaze. There’s nothing but a burning heat and a cautious, tentative hope. “I absolutely hate these glasses, Kate,” he says. “But I would wear them every day for the rest of my life if it made you tremble the way you’re trembling right now.”

And that’s the worst part of it all, isn’t it? He’s standing here, telling her that he would do it for her. That he would do anything to please her, to stoke her lust, to win her affection.

The worst, worst part is that he doesn’t need to do much of anything. Kate devotes ninety percent of her energy to keeping him at arm’s length, and it’s been a losing battle from the start.

Fuck it. She’ll forgive herself later. Or not.

Her lips are on his and however she expects him to respond, it is not to yank her against him on this public street and tangle his hand in her curls and lick into her open mouth until she moans. It’s not for his glasses to bump against her nose and for that to be some weird turn-on in itself. It’s not for him to literally fucking growl in his throat as he kisses her with mind-numbing intensity.

Kate is disoriented when he pulls away, her lungs burning from the lack of air, his large hands still taking up an insane amount of real estate on her waist. His glasses are slightly askew and really – that’s it. She’s filing an insanity plea. There is no other excuse for why she feels so dizzy, why the thought of going back to her waffle and forgetting all of this feels like madness.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, his thumb stroking the soft skin peeking out from her top, his eyes blown out. “Tell me to go back inside or tell me to take you home. Just tell me.”

And it’s suddenly crystal clear that there’s only one option. She’s going to fuck this stupid man and make him keep his glasses on and it’s going to be the best shag of her life, regardless of what happens after. And she’ll regret it, or she won’t, because maybe he does actually want her this badly.

“Go back inside,” Kate breathes, and his shoulders slump, but he simply nods. “And pay for our meals. And tell everyone I have a family thing and you’re going to drive me home.”

Anthony grins, his eyes lighting up behind the glasses, and Kate thinks she might have been wrong before. That is her ultimate weakness. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

[arbiterlexultionis]

Poltergeist

So, Danny, who’s blood is composed of mostly caffeine because the Box Ghost just WON’T FUCKING STOP attacking on the middle of the night, God Dammit this is the SEVENTH Time tonight how the Crap Baskets do you keep escaping the Thermos!! So, when he wakes up one morning needing both caffeine and ectoplasm in his sleep deprived state he just mixes a 4 pack of monster and beaker of ectoplasm in a jug and starts chugging to try and get it down before the taste hits and then stops. Takes a sip. Takes another. And realizes that it actually taste way better then either do individually.

So he starts mixing them up regularly, and eventually starts just phasing ectoplasm into still sealed cans so he can grab and go for the sake of convenience. Then some other ghost get a taste, like it, and start asking for more. So Danny gets some new friends and starts making ghost money selling his concoction, and as a joke based on the original name of the energy drink, paints over the can and relabels them Poltergeist.

For a while, business is booming but then a problem pops up. Real world items are contraband in the zone according to Walker, and most of the drink itself and the container it comes in is real world matter. Cue prohibition era shenaniganery as Danny and his allies became energy drink bootleggers, running from Walker, smuggling cases of Poltergeist, hiring ghost to help them with all of this, the whole nine yards.

I think this could work out pretty well with Danny and The Spooks, him and his boys mass producing and shipping out illegal ghost energy drinks could be a really cool plot line in my opinion, producing it, figuring out how to get it to the zone and all that as a group. I also feel this idea is just the right amount of wacky to work with the DP verse and serious/sensible enough to not be complete crack fic unless you want it to be.

When the Fenton’s and Valerie hear about that no good menace Phantom selling Highly Dangerous Ghost Drugs the flip their shit. The smear campaign is the stuff of legends. And then the truth comes out. It’s just a really Really REALLY tired teenager trying to stay awake and make some pocket money to buy first aid supplies and have some left over to buy food for homeless people.

If it’s a verse where Sam and Tucker are in on the whole ghost fighting thing then they are Energy Drink Kingpin Danny’s right and left hand men. Tucker’s the tech guy, figuring out how to build hidden compartments in vehicles to hide the goods, monitoring and screwing with Walker’s tech, managing accounts for human money he makes/figuring out how to exchange human money for Ghost money. Sam is his badass enforcer who keeps the underlings in line, and also uses her money and rich people connections to launder money and stuff. Proper crime boss stuff.

Eventually, everyone’s least favorite front loop catch’s wind of this. And I see this going one of two ways.

1) He comes to the conclusion that Danny’s not aloud to have nice things, and starts his own enterprise to compete with Danny. Stealing business, sabotaging production, tipping off Walker. General douchbaggery.

2) He is the opposite of opposition. He wants Danny as his Son, wants Danny to be just like him, wants to guide and train Danny the way he never got. So Danny, all on his own, building a criminal empire? Pissing off the authorities instead of being a little goody two shoes? Laundering money almost as good as his old man? It is wonderful and he is Here For It. Either he’s in the distance cheering him on or actively trying to help. “No no my boy, if you do it like that you’ll either end up broke or in jail for tax evasion. You’ve got to send your money through these channels and store it in banks of these countries. I’ll help you set up accounts.”

[whxre-bxby]

Im just saying a hate fucking fic where Lyle is jealous that Quaritch is always giving the reader all the attention when he is supposed to be his right hand man wouldn’t be terrible 😏

Wouldn't be terrible at all ( I had to write this, thank you!)

Hate-Fucking with Lyle Wainfleet

Recom Lyle x Recom f. Y/N

Masterlist

Summary: (can be seen in the ask)

WARNINGS: SMUT / NSFW, fighting, swearing, degrading, violence, force, hurt/comfort, spanking, penetration, man-handling

Word Count: 6480

Quaritch stood next to the helicopter with a tablet in his hand. He was flicking through it and then pulled out a paper from his pocket. 

All the recom’s including me were geared up and waiting for orders. 

“Y/N.” Quaritch said and my gaze shot up. “Put these coordinates in.”

“Yes, sir.” I nod, walking over to him and standing next to the Colonel who hands me the tablet. I start clicking from tab to tab and he holds out the paper with all the information. Once I finish I hand it back to him and he gives me a firm yet appreciative nod. I move to the side again, stilling my movements and holding my weapon. 

What I don’t notice is the pair of eyes burning into my skin. They belong to Lyle and he’s seething with jealousy. He was a Corporal and had recently been promoted to Lieutenant for his loyalty to the RDA. Meaning, he was the next highest rank after the Colonel. Which also meant he was meant to be Quaritch’s number two or his so-called right-hand man. 

But for whatever reason, the Colonel seemed to take a liking in you and it annoyed Lyle. A hatred for you was building up in him, even though you hadn’t ever done anything directly to harm him. He knew he was in the wrong for this because you were a nice person but he couldn’t even bring himself to say that about you. 

This wasn’t the first time you had been asked to do something he should have. 

Another time when we were out on a mission, Quaritch needed to send the helicopter our location and additional files of data we collected. Once again, the technology seemed to overwhelm him. He also happened to be tired after the long day in the forest, so without hesitation, he called you to him. 

Quaritch knew he could rely on you and he had great trust in you. 

While you helped him out on the screen he grinned at a few of his soldiers. 

“Good te’ have some young flesh with us.” he chuckled and a few soldiers grinned in response to his comment. I smiled, returning the screen to him after I was done. He liked to joke about how younger generations like myself were more technologically competent. 

Once again, Lyle was pissed off. His ears were strained back and his arms folded as he glared at you while you continued a conversation with one of the soldiers. 

It was true. I was younger than all of them. I was also the last to join the Deja Blu team. While we were all physically the same age now because our avatars were in their twenties, I was roughly that old when I died while the Colonel was over 50 and Lyle had almost reached 40. There was a significant mental age gap between Lyle and me but it wasn’t even noticeable. I subconsciously adapted my behaviour to the others and so did he, which balanced everything out. 

Currently, I was in one of our meeting rooms with Quaritch. The General was there and he was talking to her about the mission. I stood next to the Colonel just as a backup and also to help him beam up the pictures we took of old retrieved machinery in the forest. 

Lyle walked by, glancing through the huge glass windows and stopping in his tracks when he saw the layout of the scene in the room. He growled when he saw you standing next to your superior. Actually, his superior and your double-superior if that made sense. Lyle was also your superior so technically he could order you to do things when the Colonel wasn’t there. 

He was definitely going to take advantage of his rank to get back at you.

Lyle walked inside while the General and Quaritch were talking. Their conversation was coming to an end and she told him to follow her to the aircraft runway to show him relevant equipment for the next mission. He wasn’t necessarily pleased about having to spend more time with her but he didn’t dare show it. He dismissed me, handing over the tablet he was holding to free his hands before following her to the door. The Colonel noticed Lyle and nodded towards him. The gesture was returned to Lyle. They had both gone and now it was just me, Lyle, and a few other humans doing scientific studies. 

I was taking notes of what the Colonel had told me to write down and felt another presence. Turning around I spot Lyle and smile. 

“Hey, don’t you have training?” I ask, putting the tablet down and turning to him. He didn’t smile back or even greet me which both confused and worried me. Lyle was always friendly. 

“What are you doin’ here?” he asked and his voice seemed to be deeper than usual. I don’t take my eyes off him as he approaches me. I just study his movements trying to sense out of his emotions. 

“The Colonel had a meeting, I helped take notes and-” I explain, giving him another friendly smile and motioning to the screen in front of me.

“Did he ask you?” Lyle’s tail swishes in irritation and the sign of body language makes my gently swaying tail freeze. Something is off and I can now tell he is not happy. Instantly, I’m worried I did something wrong even though I know I haven’t. 

“Uhm, I guess so.” I reply, not sure how else to answer. 

“You don’t know?” Lyle asks, his hard gaze meeting mine while his almost mocking tone undermines my words. I nervously look down, turning away from him. His presence suddenly seems so strong it intimidates me. 

“I don’t remember.” I say before turning to the tablet and picking it up. 

Lyle grits his teeth and in the next second his hand rips the tablet from mine. I stare up at him in shock at his rough actions.

“What are you doing?” I ask, not daring to take it back. 

“Stop doin’ my job.” he growls at me, staring me down for a good few seconds before turning to leave with the tablet. Lyle slams the door closed behind him, leaving me standing alone. I flinch at the loud noise, not moving and just processing what happened. 

I scan the room, looking at the humans who were already looking at me. Their curious eyes drank in the dramatic scene. I frown, pinning my ears to the side of my head and once they see I’ve spotted them they quickly turn away. 

Confusion and anger were pumping through my body as I huffed through my nostrils in annoyance before exiting the room. Lyle was already gone. 

That interaction put me in a bad mood and I most definitely expected an apology from him during our next encounter. 

The next day, during a briefing Quaritch was giving the recom’s, he received a phone call. He saw it was someone ranking close to the General and his eyes met mine. He curled his finger, beckoning me to him and without hesitation, I got up from my seat and approached him. 

“Notes.” he murmured before picking up the phone and I quickly unlocked mine, scrolling through files to find what he needed. Once I got it I handed him my phone and he gave me his usual appreciative nod before turning away and talking to the person on the phone. I stand patiently, waiting for him to finish so that I can get my phone back. 

All the recom’s are used to me being called up and when he turns away they use the time as a break and start talking. I intuitively scan the room before my eyes lock with Lyle’s. 

I freeze and my heart drops when I see that he’s staring me down again. He was sitting in the front row of the benches, leaning forwards on his arms which rested on his manspreading thighs. His glare made me stop chewing on my tongue and my ears were flattened back just like his. 

He seemed to notice how I didn’t look away this time and took note of my reacting attitude towards him. The Colonel returned and Lyle looked away. I continued to study him as I sat down, trying to think of an explanation for his behaviour. 

Did that count as taking his job away? But if so, what does he expect? I’m not going to ignore Quaritch’s orders. He asked me to do something, I’m going to do it. If Lyle has a problem with that, then I have a problem with Lyle. 

The next time I spoke to Lyle was when the recom team wasn’t being used for its deemed mission but for chores. With our height and strength, we were a great help and happened to often do a better job than the human soldiers. 

This time we were cleaning and repairing helicopters. There were 4 in total and Brown and I were in charge of one together.

Lyle was walking up and down the runway, keeping an eye on everything because Quaritch was busy. 

Brown knelt down, tightening the screw and pipes of the engine while I held a cloth in my hand and wiped away the grease and ashes. He gave me a thumbs-up and I nodded, trying to start the engine again but once again the helicopter died. Brown groaned in frustration and I chuckled, walking over to him to see what it looked like. 

“Shouldn’t that be screwed on here?” I ask, pointing it out to him. 

“Don’t know, this is how the other guy showed me te’ do it.” he replied, shrugging. I hum, examining the mess.

“Y/N, back to work!” I hear Lyle loudly call from behind us. Both of us turn around to face him and I frown when my eyes meet him. He’s standing with his arms crossed and tail swaying.

“I am working.” I say, leaning on the front of the aircraft and looking at him. 

“She’s helpin’ me out.” Brown said, looking up at Lyle. I smile, thankful for his helpful words. 

Lyle glares at me and I raise an eyebrow, challenging him to complain about me even more. 

“Wearin’ that?” he scoffs and I blink in silence, processing his nerve to even comment on my clothes. It was extremely warm in the garage for all aircraft, especially when we were working on their engines. 

So I had shorts and a sports bra on, instead of my usual tank top. Not a big deal. It wasn’t the first time either. 

“Yeah, you got a problem?” I ask, fully turning around to face him. Brown notices the tension and stands up. He wasn’t used to seeing me mad. 

“I do actually, yes.” Lyle answered, taking an intimidating step forward but it just makes me sneer at him. We’re staring each other down until Brown comes to my rescue. 

“She’s wearin’ more than me.” He says, making it sound like a light joke even though he is trying to scale down the situation. Brown was shirtless with just loose shorts on, so he wasn’t wrong. 

Lyle’s eyes flicker to him, finally breaking the tense and harsh eye contact and I softly sigh. 

“Get back to it then.” Wainfleet sternly says, turning away from us. I roll my eyes, turning back to the engine and Brown scans the two of us before kneeling down again. 

“What the hell was that?” he asked, glancing up at me before reaching for the screwdriver. 

“No idea. He’s been like this for the past few days.” I say with a sigh while my tail flicks in irritation. 

“I think he’s into you.” he chuckles and I wheeze. 

“Yeah, right. I’d rather die.” I say, realising I may not even mean that after I said it. Nonetheless, Brown didn’t need to know. 

“I’m serious, he’s been an ass like this once and that was when he was all over some girl.“ Brown adds and I think about it.

“Besides, look at you. I think he’s interested.”

I scoff at his comment, hitting the back of his head which makes him laugh as he readjusts his baseball cap. 

“He’s interested to kill me.” I say and Brown gives me a doubting look, wanting to reply but we’re interrupted. 

“Y/N!” I hear a distant call which makes me turn my attention away from the conversation. I turn around, vaguely noticing that Lyle was still standing behind us and was facing us. He too was looking in the direction the voice came from. 

Quaritch came out from around the corner, seeming rushed as he scanned the room for me. His eyes found me and his tense shoulders slumped in relief. 

“Y/N, sweet’eart. I need you for the meeting.” He called and I nodded. I was completely oblivious to the pet name and it flew right by me. It just so happened to hit Lyle like a brick to the face and Brown noticed it too. 

As I turn to leave I grin at Lyle who looks angry that I’m being called up instead of him. I chuck the dirty cloth at him. 

“You can clean now. I’m needed elsewhere.” I tease him, smiling at Brown who is fighting a grin before jogging to where the Colonel came from. 

Lyle was boiling with anger, gripping the cloth so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Pfft, ‘sweetheart’.” he mumbled in a mocking tone. 

The fact that Quaritch called for you pissed him off even more and he wasn’t sure whether he was jealous of you or him. It seems as though the Colonel and you have become close with all the time you spend working together, so you doing Lyle’s job. He didn’t know whether to be mad at you for taking it away from him or whether to be mad at the Colonel for wanting you instead of him. Somehow, he also felt angry that you allowed Quaritch to call you pet names like that. 

Lyle turned to Brown who avoided eye contact with him and started doing what I was before. 

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type.” Brown joked, glancing up at Lyle before taking cover behind the broken engine again. 

Lyle’s ears tipped back at his words. “What? No! I’m not.” he snarls, aggressively cleaning the side of the aircraft. Brown didn’t say anything else, not wanting to cause a commotion. 

“It’s just- she’s doin’ my job. Ya know? I’m the fuckin’ Lieutenant.” he huffs and Brown’s ears flick up. Lyle was talking to himself mostly, needing to let his frustration out. Brown preferred not to voice his opinion in fear of getting a beating. 

‘You were going to pay for this’ Lyle thought. 

The meeting Quaritch called me in for was similar to most others. It seemed as though the General needed to be re-informed of our mission every few days which was starting to annoy both Quaritch and me. 

Luckily it ended before either of us started giving Ardmore some attitude. 

She walked out of the room with her usual group of soldiers following her and the Colonel watched her leave with a stern look. Once the door closed behind them he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“That woman’s gettin’ on my nerves.” he subtly said and I grinned, shutting down the computer and turning off the beamer. I wanted to comment on her too but I knew better than that.

“Why does she need us doing this every few days?” I ask, putting the remote control back into a drawer before facing the Colonel. 

“Don’t think she trusts us.” Quaritch answers and I hum in reply. 

“Anyway, you’ve been a great help Y/N. You’re dismissed for the rest of the evenin’.” he said, flashing me a smile and I returned it. 

“Thank you, sir.” I say with a nod before walking out the door myself. There were a lot of thoughts going through my head at the moment so I had tunnel vision for the door of my room. I reached it, letting myself in and closing the door behind me, sighing in relief at the silence and privacy. 

What you hadn’t noticed was, of course, Lyle. He refused to finish cleaning the helicopter and was actually planning on just going to wash his hands but he stumbled across the room you were having this ‘meeting’ in and decided to hang around there instead. Since he was a recombinant, no one would question why he isn’t working so he leaned against the wall next to one of the windows in the room and waited. 

Once Ardmore left he turned around and looked inside, watching the interaction between the Colonel and you. You seemed to be having a pleasant conversation which put Lyle in a very non-pleasant mood. 

He saw you start to leave and his eyes flickered to his superior, noticing how the Colonel peered after you. 

Lyle’s ears automatically flattened back without him noticing. Of course, you were still wearing your skimpy outfit. 

He waited for you to see him because he was very close to the door but your eyes didn’t catch him. Instead, you walked away and probably to your room. 

Lyle huffed in annoyance, making sure the Colonel wouldn’t see him through the windows before following you down the long hallways. The third time he turned a corner he stopped and noticed you unlocking your door and walking inside. Now you were alone and he could scold you for all the shit you have done that’s pissed him off. 

He slowly walked up to your door, stopping in front of it before knocking harshly at the wood.

My tired eyes shot open and my ears perked at the noise. I was in the bathroom, cleaning myself off with a wet towel. Droplets of water were running down my neck and chest after I had just rubbed off some of the helicopter's grease. 

I sigh, holding on to the towel before walking to the door. 

I open it, expecting to see Z-Dog asking where I’ve been of Brown trying to figure out more about the drama. But no, to my surprise, Lyle is standing in front of me and once again he doesn’t look happy. 

I raise an eyebrow, wiping my cheek with the towel while waiting for him to say something. 

“You know you’re meant to greet your superiors.” he said and I was already sick of his presence. I groaned, dropping my head because I felt too tired to deal with him and his shit now.

“Hm, that’s odd. I don’t remember that.” I say, purposefully angering him. 

“You do.” 

“Well, maybe it doesn’t apply to me since I might be your superior soon.” I say, smiling slyly at him. 

Lyle growled and tried stepping in but I blocked his way. “Forget it, this is my space.” I snap and he grits his teeth. 

“Too bad, mandatory room inspection.” he says and I know he’s making it up. This was pathetic and immature.

“Yeah right.” I snort and he straightens his posture, peering down at me. 

“Do I have to remind you that I outrank you by two positions?” he said and my ears tip back. This wasn’t fair but he was right. I had to listen so I sighed, moving out of his way and he walks into my room. 

I stand by the open door, following him with my eyes. 

“Close it.” he orders and I stare for a few good seconds before complying. Yep, that’s it. I’m going to die in here on this good day.

I turn to face him while he stands in all his tall glory, frowning at me. 

Lyle’s eyes scan my body and I take note of that, watching how they linger on my chest. 

“Up here.” I say and I can see how he curses himself for having me catch him.

“Are you trying to piss me off?” he asks and his voice sounds strained which makes me think I might get a punch if I answer wrongly. 

“No? I’m doing my job.”

“My job.” he quickly corrects me, spitting his words which makes me feel salty. 

“I’m not going to disobey direct orders from the Colonel.” I hiss. 

“He’s only given’ ‘em to you ‘cause of how you look.” Lyle snarls at me and I’m taken aback by his words.

Now my hands are resting on my hips as I glare up at him. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, clearly voicing my irritation through tone and body language. He shifts his weight onto one leg, looking up and swiping his thumb over his nose while he scoffs in disbelief. 

“He’s checkin’ you out. Don’t think he gives you orders because he thinks you’re competent.” 

My mouth drops open and I am very much offended. “He doesn’t fucking ‘check me out’.” I reply, staring daggers into this menace of a man. 

“I saw him look after you when you left the room just now.” he says and I stay quiet. I don’t know how to respond and I’m confused what we’re even arguing about. 

“Oh, don’t be all surprised now. Look at what you’re fuckin’ wearin’.” Lyle says motioning to my minimally dressed body and that’s all it takes for me to lose it. 

Without hesitation, I slap Lyle across the face and it clearly startles him. 

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that.” I spit my words at him, pointing my finger while he holds his cheek. “I wear this to training and it’s never been a big deal!” I shout and my noise level seems to bother him. He glances at the door before returning his fierce eyes to me. 

“Be quiet.” he mumbles but I shake my head. 

“You don’t even wear a shirt!” 

“Y/N- stop.”

“You know, maybe the Colonel just wants someone mature and professional for once.” I snarl and Lyle stops his movements. 

“What did you just say?” he asks, taking a step forwards. I stand my ground, not looking away. 

“You heard me. The shit you’re doing right now is close to crossing the line.” I snarl and he raises an eyebrow. “I can report you for-” 

My words are cut off when Lyle walks straight up to me and his right-hand wraps around my throat. I go to push him off me but he catches my wrist with his other hand. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ pain in my ass, you know that?” Lyle growls and I frown up at him, trying to desperately pull his hand from my neck but it doesn’t budge. 

“You’re such an asshole, get out of my-”

This time I’m interrupted by something I would have never expected and the action startles me so much that my heart stops beating for a second and I don’t move. 

Lyle pulls me to him with the help of the grip he has around my throat and crashes his lips against mine. He holds me in place and kisses me roughly and after a second I kiss back. Why I do that I have no idea but he’s gotten me so frustrated with everything I can’t think logically around him. 

The kiss turns into a heated make-out session and the hand he had wrapped around my throat was now tightly gripping the base of my queue on the back of my head. He tugged at it, making me tilt my head upwards to him. 

My hands roam up his torso, rearranging the tank top before I close them into fists around the cloth by his neck. He doesn’t pull away and I’m starting to pant every time I can. One of my hands retreats from the deafening grip I had on his shirt to his bicep and I dig my fingernails into his skin. I still hated him and quite frankly didn’t care if I hurt him. He seemed to feel the same because he growled and squeezed my queue in response, making me whimper. 

While some messed up part of me was into the whole thing, that pissed me off and I harshly pushed him in the chest. It broke the kiss and he took a step back to balance himself. 

My chest was heaving, mirroring his own while I breathed heavily. Lyle was watching me intently, still clearly enraged. Both our ears were pinned back flat against our heads, reminding the other of the hatred we felt for each other despite the attraction I refuse to bring up.

“This is why you’re so provoked by me?” I tease him, rolling my shoulders back. His tail furiously flicks behind him. 

“You’re into me and now you wanna get your dick wet?” I joke, trying to demean him. 

He steps forward again, this time harshly gripping my jaw and forcing me to meet his stern glare. 

“I’m not into you.” He snarls. “You just happen to be wearin’ the sluttiest thing they got.” 

“Aww, are you having a hard time controlling yourself?” I coo, trying to baby him and make fun of him before I can’t take his angry face seriously anymore. I break into light laughter and Lyle growls again. I feel the vibrations from his chest. He pushed me back and my back hit the wall with a thud, making my eyes close from the sudden impact. 

He was going to do what he needed to do but you didn’t deserve to get it on the bed. That would be too intimate so you’re getting it against a wall. 

I look up at him with wide eyes and am quick to realise that I am very much not in control of the events that will soon unfold. 

Lyle reaches behind his back, tugging his tank top over his head and discarding it on the ground before coming over to me. I don’t dare move and within seconds one of his hands caught my wrist, holding it above me and firmly pressed against the wall. I let out a faint gasp, following his movements and trying to wriggle it free but I fail.

Before I can try another miserable escape attempt, his other hand wraps around the strap of my sports bra and he tears it apart with ease. My breath catches in my throat and when he does the same to the other strap, a part of it recoils and slingshots back against my skin, making me flinch and cry out but Lyle couldn’t care less. 

He tears apart the remaining cloth until it’s no longer wrapped around my torso and he lets it fall to the floor. 

“You jerk, I liked that one.” I hiss at him, trying to catch his attention but Lyle’s head is elsewhere as he just stares at my now bare chest. 

“Yeah?” He asks and I know he’s about the belittle my petty words. 

“The Colonel did too. He’s never seein’ you in it again.”

I scoff. “Next time, I’ll go to him like this then.” 

I answer, motioning to my bare chest because I knew that would get under his skin. 

“You don’t know when to stop do ya?” he asks before his hand roughly fastens around the back of my neck and he turns me around. My chest and face are pressed against the wall while his other arm tugs my hips towards him, making me arch my back. 

Within seconds my shorts have been pulled down my legs and before I could complain, his large palm delivered a harsh spank to my ass. I flinched away from his touch, pushing up further against the wall while I heard a deep chuckle from behind me. 

“You’re in for it now.” he scowled and I snarled, pressing myself away from the wall and flicking him in the face with my tail. I wanted to turn around but he still held me by the neck and another skin-reddening spank landed on my ass. He gave me about 5 more, making them sting harder each time and I stopped struggling to get him to stop. 

“You deserve more than that, you’re just lucky I’m impatient today.” he said, pulling me back from the wall and spinning me around. 

I was going to get him back for making my ass sting so harshly. 

His hands wrapped around my waist and he hoisted me into the air. Being lifted from my feet distracted me enough to not deliver another slap to his face. 

He moved closer, resting me on his hips while my legs dangled on either side of him. Lyle looked distracted enough by the new position he put us in so I used this opportunity to harm him again. The fight was on and I wasn’t giving up. 

My fingers clawed at his shoulders and then I tried to choke him with both hands but when I looked up at him, he looked completely unfazed by my aggressive antics. 

Lyle’s hands were on my hips, and he was busy looking at my bare body which was shielded with just my panties at this point. He flexed his core abs and forced my hips to roll forwards while he pressed his up against mine. 

I gasped when I felt him grind himself against me and my hands automatically loosened, falling from his neck and resting on his chest. A bolt of electric excitement shot through me and I bit my lip, hating the pleasure I felt. 

He did it again and I tightly held onto his shoulders, pressing my lips together to suppress any noises that might fuel this bad idea. 

Lyle looked up at my face and smirked when he saw my struggle to keep quiet. He decided to just keep repeating his actions until my rebellious acts will finally give out. 

I had to occasionally close my eyes but once I felt his hardening dick twitch beneath me and press right against my clothed core, my sealed lips fell open and I moaned. 

Lyle’s ears perked forwards and his sly smirk turned into a shit-eating grin. 

“Ya feel good?” he asked me in a teasing manner. 

“Shut up.” I answer breathily, not having a snarky remark I can fire back. I was lucky because Lyle wasn’t able to withstand me that long. The teasing ended quickly.

His fingers curled around the side of my underwear and to my displeasure but not a surprise, he tore the cloth apart and it joined the pile on the floor. I was naked now in his hands and he exhaled shakily while his starved eyes drank in all they saw. 

His eyes widened when he noticed my tattoo. It was located above my pussy, close enough to always be covered by any panties I wore. The hand that threw away my panties came up to my lower abdomen and he traced his fingers down it. 

“Fuck- I never knew you had this.” he mumbled, unable to tear his eyes off of the teasing pattern decorating my skin. 

Now it’s my turn to evilly smirk at him. “You like it?” I ask, feigning innocence. 

He scoffs, still staring down at it. “If I knew you had this, I wouldn’t have been able to wait this long.” 

I grin before reaching between us and unbuckling his belt. 

Lyle was brought out of his trance of fantasies and stared down at my hands. 

“Look who’s all needy now.” he cooed, teasing me again and I huffed. 

“Shut up, you did this to me.” 

“Fuck yeah I did.” he replied, interpreting it rather as a compliment than an insult. 

His hands replaced mine and he pushed his pants down, letting them pool around his ankles with his underwear. 

I shudder, letting out a shaky breath as my eyes are met with his throbbing cock. The tip was glistening, already smeared with droplets of pre-cum while I watched the veins on the underside pulse. He was so much bigger than I could have possibly imagined and it looked so inviting. 

I wanted to touch him but Lyle was feeling too restless. 

“When I’m done you won’t be able to walk.” he said and I scoffed. 

“Yeah right, like you’d ever manage that.” 

I knew I could be underestimating him but we weren’t here to fucking make love. I was still mad at him for his behaviour. 

“Quit bein’ a bitch and I might be nice.” he snarled, readjusting me on him while his lust-blown eyes stared into mine. 

“Forget it, you started this.” I hiss and we’re back at the beginning again, arguing back and forth. 

The tension in his body rose and Lyle decided to change my mind with actions instead of words. He didn’t like his odds because he knew you had a big mouth and talking wasn’t his absolute strength. 

His hands held me up by the back of my thighs and he pulled his hips slightly back before moving forwards so that his tip was now pressing against my bare entrance. He had lifted me a little higher to achieve that and I bit my lip in anticipation. 

The pressure of his tip against me had my pussy throbbing and then his fingers came down and he started gliding one through my folds. 

I let my head fall back against the wall while I held onto his arms. He continued his actions, circling my clit and successfully not leaving a single area untouched. 

Lyle started slowly pushing into me while he gently applied pressure on my clit and I was slowly melting into his touch. The pleasure I felt made it easier for him to enter me and soon enough, Lyle was buried hilt-deep in me. 

He groaned, digging his fingers into the plush of my thighs to keep him steadied. “Shit… so tight.” 

“Lyle-” I gasp, relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. I glance down, noticing a faint bump in my belly which made my stomach twist with more excitement. 

Hearing his name did unspeakable things to the marine soldier and he drew his hips back before pushing in a little faster and steadier this time. 

I sighed, relaxing into him and once Lyle noticed I was taking him well he took things up a notch. His hips gliding back and forth turned into unwavering thrusts which sped up as we started to accept each other. Soon I was being shoved against the wall with each stroke and Lyle started rutting into me like this was the last time we would ever get this chance. 

I closed my legs around his waist to ensure I stay on him while we both started getting lost in the feeling of pleasure. My eyes were fluttering closed with occasional whimpers and moans being drawn from my lips. They spurred Lyle on and his head was dropped forward and next to mine. His grunts and pants filled my ears and I loved the noises he made. My stomach tightened each time he groaned in bliss and he felt it when my pussy hugged him tighter. 

We were both so frustrated and wound up from our arguments that we grew desperate for each other without knowing it. Finally, we were being relieved from all the tension and suspense and our senses were more responsive. Meaning, neither of us was going to last very long. 

“Holy shit-” I moan, gasping when the angle he uses to drill into me hits my sweet spot. “I’m so close.” 

Lyle growls into my ear, pressing his face into my neck and deeply inhaling my scent. It drove him feral and he couldn’t wait to cloak it with his musk. That way it would be made clear to the others, that you were his even without you knowing.

“Come on,” he whispered, encouraging me to cum. His words mixed with the next thrust absolutely crash me over the edge and my body trembles in euphoria. 

I moan, arching my back off the wall and holding on to him for dear life while my pussy clenches down on him. 

Lyle moans, knowing he will spill any second. 

My orgasm washes over me and my pussy is throbbing wildly as I regain my breath. 

He thrusts into me a few more times before quickly pulling out. In an instant, his hand closes into a fist around his shaft and he jerks himself until his cum sputters from his tip. 

“Fuckkk-” he curses, throwing his head back before quickly looking down at our bodies again. 

I watch with wide eyes as the thick ropes of white and almost luminescent cum paint my quivering pussy. He’s aiming for my tattoo and manages to almost fully cover it. 

Once he calms down I smile to myself, loving how a small and naughty tattoo like that can make him so weak. 

“Damn, this tat’ has you whipped.” I giggle, looking up at him. Lyle sighs, knowing I’m right. “ I’d say you like it more than me.”

“Fuck’s sake, all of you is so amazing.” he breathily answers, dropping his head into the crook of my neck again. He’s still floating in pleasure and his head isn’t fully back yet. 

I raise an eyebrow. “All of me?”

Lyle pulls away, smirking at me. “We need to work on your attitude a little but otherwise-” 

I pretend to be hurt and give him a light punch in the chest which makes him chuckle.

“My attitude is what got you laid, so play nice.” 

He laughs before gently placing me on the ground. Lyle picks up the ripped clothes which used to be one and cleaned me up. 

“I don’t know if you deserve ‘nice’. ” he replied and I rolled my eyes before walking over to my bed and picking up my large sleeping t-shirt. Lyle watched me not put it on and I smiled at him before leaving the room and going into the bathroom. 

“You not comin’ back outside?” he asked, meaning the base. 

“Nope. Our lovely Colonel dismissed me for the rest of the evening.” I call back to him. Lyle’s ears flick back for a brief moment. 

‘Of course, he fucking did that’ Lyle thought. He looked down at what used to be your bra and felt a sense of pride when he saw how torn it was. 

“Well, your bra’s done for so you ain’t gettin’ any more time off from him.” Lyle jokes. 

“Can’t hear you I’m showering!” I shout and Lyle stands still for a few moments, thinking. 

He glances at the door he came in through, contemplating whether he should get back to work. Then he looked towards you and saw you in the shower. 

Let’s just say that work can wait.

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

Y/N:

Tag List: @number1gal @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

[brw]

It baffles the mind to me how people will insist Ben Percy's Beast is right and correct and is the natural end version of Hank and that since day one he was always going to end up like that, not just because it implies absolutely nobody has actually read Hank in any pre-Bendis comic ever, but also because Evil Hank as Percy writes him makes everyone look massively incompetent, and I'm not even talking about just X-Force, I mean the entire larger X-Men community.

Emma Frost. World class telepath. Repeatedly is shown to not have that many qualms about digging into people's minds if they're hiding something from her. Confronts Hank at least once directly, and yet did not actually care enough to do anything other than act huffy when confronted with his actions. At most, she was pissed at him ruining her party. You can torture whoever you want, old buddy, but causing an inconvenience at my party? Now I'm mad.

Jean Grey. Even greater telepath. Was on X-Force herself, even, and also does not have many holdups about tearing down people's walls if the needs be. We even see her do just that, but her problem is him keeping things from her, and not the actual content of most of his actions. And after she leaves, she just seems to plug her fingers in her ears and go lalalala? The stuff at the Hellfire Gala, keeping Wolverine as clones, she doesn't care, she's too busy X-Mening.

Wolverine. Epic cool warrior guy who is supposed to be the best there is, whose talents Hank clearly admires enough to clone repeatedly to do his bidding, who is simultaneously a lone wolf and also the guy everyone wants to have on their team, who is the only guy who can see through Hank or whatever. Not competent enough to kill one big blue furry man who has spent the last 5 years at a desk job. That completely alludes him.

Domino has luck based powers that are supposed to help her in any situation, but I guess getting rid of evil blue man is too much to ask. Couldn't even get a bucket propped up under an open door. "He was always like this, he was always evil" she insists, but after learning he's controlling a small nation with plant people at the Hellfire Gala she still busts out the Cha Cha Slide with him on the dance floor.

I guess neither Jean nor Logan bothered to tell Scott his old friend was committing war crimes, because he doesn't seem to know or to give a fuck.

Kitty and Kurt know enough to joke about it, but do they actually confront him? Does anyone care enough to actually try to put a stop to it directly, if they're all seemingly convinced he's beyond help and fundamentally evil? No, they've got other shit going on. No time to care about Hank making a future where he is God-King, we gotta stop Sinister doing that same thing, but I guess when Hank does it, who gives a shit.

Quinten Quire is an omega level telepath who apparently nobody thought to say "hey man, can you use those Phoenix-level abilities to get Beast to stop killing people?". He was too busy giving himself a bigger dick in resurrection protocols, I guess.

I could go on, but point is, I genuinely don't know how you insist that era made so much sense and was the perfect version of Hank and everyone was simply too naive to see that this was who he always was, because it makes everyone look like an incompetent moron! They can't kill one fat blue furry man??? He hasn't done field work in years! And yet that's too much to ask! The only reason he died was because he was in gay love with some fuckass actor from New Jersey. It's deeply embarrassing for everyone involved if that's the reality of things, and I have no idea why you want all of your favourite characters to be incompetent dipshits who think "Wow, isn't Hank evil?" and then refuse to actually do anything about it.

And all this could have been averted if Hank was, you know, Hank. Hank isn't charming and cultured and well-read and funny and polite because he's a good person, those are his innate traits, and as we see with Dark Beast, they can twist in the opposite direction. That would literally be all it would take. I mean a lot of things would still suck, but at the very least, it would make everyone's inability to do anything a little more understandable, and allow things to feel tragic, like that Hank becoming increasingly evil and separated from his ethics is a loss and one we all mourn, instead of the insistence that he was always going to turn out that way.

Emma walks in to try and set things right with Hank, but gets distracted by good conversation and jokes and the same man who treated her as a member of the X-Men when she first joined and not as a heartless monster, who built her piece by piece back together when people were joking that finding out her murderer would be too much work, because everyone wanted her dead. It's hard to connect the evil actions she's heard Hank doing with the kind and charming and personable man in front of her, who matches her intellectually and well and truly respects her, and so she accepts that things are either exaggerated or that Hank will ultimately come back into himself, and that she can trust him not to disrupt her party.

Just a few little moments like that would have gone so far. An evil Hank McCoy is ultimately still Hank, and should still be funny and dropping Aristotle quotes and Shakespeare and being a good friend, because those are not traits exclusively to moral people, and it would make everyone's seeming incompetence a little easier to swallow. It's harder to see the evil actions that Hank is doing for what they are, when he's making you laugh so hard your belly aches or pondering intellectual questions with you, rather than just repeatedly saying "I'M THE BASTARD YOU NEED" before making a torture station in outer space.

There's so many ways this entire arc could have, at the very least, had some intrigue and actual character work to explore, the ways Hank has always used a larger than life persona to deflect and hide, and how that could become increasingly warped if you're dead set on having him be evil, and make the whole thing feel less like a character assassination and more of a tragedy. Hank McCoy becoming evil should hurt. It should feel like a great loss that someone who had been so kind and empathetic and nurturing became increasingly amoral and evil and even sadistic, and all the characters involved should feel that loss, and that even could be why they struggle to actually do anything for so long; they're so loyal to the Hank that once was, they can't see the Hank that is.

But all that is lost when the only character suggesting that something else might be to blame is Colossus, who immediately gets shut down as being ridiculous and silly, and everyone else stands and nods that Hank is really evil now, and isn't that a shame, and maybe he was always like this, but are we actually gonna do anything about it? Nah, we got a party to throw, we gotta get our fancy dresses on.

The entire thing is so unbelievably infuriating, because all it would have taken for someone to actually not even like Hank, but just want to be consistent with prior characterisation and have him be fun. A villainous Hank should ultimately be fun. That's probably the main reason why Dark Beast has endured for so long; he is fun to see and be around. He's a fun character to see on your page. That's what Hank needed. But I guess Sinister was taking that place so instead we got blue Kissinger and it is genuinely such a travesty that this dogshit is celebrated by comic fans who throw up in their mouths if you suggest reading an Avengers comic to broaden their horizons.

[greenerteacups]

Hi GT, I hope you are doing well! who is your favorite Weasley?

Thank you! Absolute treat of a question. Oh, man. It's Ron, right? It was always going to be Ron.

So here's the thing: the Weasleys are a really well-characterized family in that you can kind of see a lot of character emerge through limited sketches and contextual information. Bill is Number One Boy, the best at everything, oldest child who was always confident and at peace with his indisputable place in the family; so he's a chill, cool, incredibly competent guy who naturally takes-charge. Charlie is a patented never-grew-out-of-your-middle-school-dragons-phase Weird Kid, but like, mindfully and enthusiastically so, because his parents probably still had plenty of time to support and nurture his interests; plus he's also different to Bill and excels in different ways, so they aren't too competitive (as we see). Percy is the first one to suffer from the pressure of mounting expectations, and he's very quickly followed by the twins, who do the classic "if I can't be the best I'll be the worst" late-sibling trick of acting up for attention, so he gets lost in the shuffle. (The fight between Ron and Percy in Chapter 58 is, hence, in substantially about the relationship between the two most-ignored members of the Weasley family, and that's why Ron is so much angrier at him than the rest of them. Like I've said before, Ron always thinks he's got it the worst, but he takes pride in being able to kinda "tough it out," and nothing pisses him off like other people's self-pity.) Ginny is obviously the baby of the family, a girl with everyone wrapped around her finger, and I love her, but I feel like we didn't get enough grit in her portrait— she's just really successful in everything she does, in a way that can read as flat to some people, and certainly read as flat to me my first time through the books. In fact, Ginny reminds me a lot of Bill: first daughter/first son, described often as "cool" and clever and good at basically everything, charming and generally liked by all. Which is lovely. A delight to read, just like the twins are. But my taste in characters ranges way more fucked-up and mean.

Ron is the last boy, "sixth son of a woman who wanted a daughter" (fascinating line that complicates everything we know about Molly's relationship with her kids — and BTW, how the hell does Ron know that, and how old was he when he learned it? And this also comes into play with Molly's cry of "not my daughter" to Bellatrix which like, as a moment obviously fucking rules, but also — there's a reason she says daughter, not "child," right? Do you see what I'm digging at? Anyway). Ron meets Harry and recognizes himself in how Harry defaults to thinking people don't care about him, or won't help him if he asks, because — although they come from very different circumstances, Ron's home was completely loving, just not as nurturing as he always needed it to be — Ron usually goes in assuming people don't care about him, too. So his first instinct is to go: "Alright. Well, I'll care about you, then, weird stranger. Do you want to share my horrible sandwich, and also my life, perhaps?" Goddamn! Sixth of seven in a house with never enough to go around, and he's immediately like: "fuck it, room for one more." Because he could have been Percy — and you can see it in the way that Ron is mean, sometimes, he's not careful with his words and he struggles with empathy and he's got a vengeful streak that comes out when he's pissed — but he isn't selfish enough, he loves too much and too easily, and it takes shockingly little to earn his loyalty. You just have to pay a little attention to him.

[brookstolemybrand]

Everybody underestimates Bonney all the time and it's pissing me off so time to rant

1: "She should be at home because she's a baby"

Just getting this out of the way immediately: YES, I KNOW SHE'S 12.

In the real world 12-year-olds probably shouldn't be running around the world, adventuring all on their own, and yes I very much understand that reaction. But in the real world 12-year-olds also don't have superpowers

This is fiction. This is FANTASY. One Piece is a wish-fulfillment fantasy adventure story for kids, it doesn't have to make sense based on real world logic

12 wouldn't be that unusual for a shounen protagonist. Goku was 12 when he started out. Ash Ketchum was 10, ffs. I know he mostly collects weird animals but still. This is a pretty common trope in fiction aimed at younger audiences, WHICH ONE PIECE IS

And she's basically a magical girl anyway, there's magical girls even younger than her

Would it be nice if she was able to just grow up peacefully? Yeah, but that's not really an option for her anyway at this point. She's a wanted criminal, and she has the power to control one of the government's strongest weapons so they're REALLY desperate to capture her

But here's the thing: She's not just a helpless child looking for a parent

She's smart, driven, resourceful and competent (for one thing she clearly actually knows how to sail, even in the Grand Line). She spent two years all alone as a fugitive from the law and always managed to slip away from the government's hands. She even managed to make it to Egghead (alone!) until she got her ship eaten by a gigantic shark (which also sank the Sunny btw; if losing her ship to that thing means you're not qualified to sail then the same goes for the Straw Hats)

My point is: no she doesn't need to be babied, actually. She IS in dire need of friends and allies, not because she's a child but because it's just not great for anyone to be all alone against the world (Luffy regularly acknowledges that he needs his crew too). She has more than proven herself as a pirate and she's in a genre where 12-year-olds going on wild adventures is normal

2: "OMG she should be the apprentice of the Straw Hats!"

Look, I appreciate that you want her to stick with the Straw Hats but come on...

Okay, I will admit that Luffy is literally currently mentoring her, specifically as Nika, and that makes sense

But Bonney as an apprentice pirate?? Are you KIDDING ME

She's been sailing for as long if not longer than Luffy! By the time they made it to Sabaody she had been a pirate captain for as long if not longer than Luffy! She has as much if not more experience being an actual pirate than Luffy!

No, she's not "the next generation" she's LITERALLY part of the Worst Generation, along with Luffy! They're the SAME GENERATION, they're PEERS

It's not about age, it's about when you made it through Paradise! Because that's what actually matters here: accomplishments, not age

She's also clearly fiercely proud of that too, she's the one who keeps bringing up the Worst Generation all the time. How do you expect her to accept a role like "apprentice"? She's never going to let herself be called that

I mean could she become a Straw Hat? Maybe, other worst generation members have worked for emperors before. But not as an "apprentice" for fuck's sake, she would be a full crewmate if she joined

Also IMO she would be much more likely to become part of the grand fleet

And even more likely to just keep seeing herself as Luffy's rival, just like Law and Kid and Bege

My take is that if Bonney still wants to be a pirate, she's perfectly able to do that on her own. She's already done it before. She's a natural captain, just like Luffy, she's not like Jimbei or Brook who became captains out of necessity and were happy to renounce that position to join the Straw Hats. Sure, she lost her crew but she can get a new crew together

In fact she has the perfect opportunity, thanks to Vegapunk: she could create a crew of pacifistas. Which would be terrifying. Imagine running into a pirate crew made up of a bunch of laser-shooting cyborgs, captained by a sun god

That's not just me being a Bonney stan, she could absolutely do that, she has the skills and powers to do that

And that's if she even wants to still be a pirate, she could have other plans, like maybe joining the RA

3: "She's not that strong, she just has a big bounty because the government wanted her as a hostage / because of her reputation of beating up old people and children / she's just playing dress-up, she's not gonna have any proper powers as Nika"

SHE ONE-SHOT A CP8 AGENT WHEN SHE WAS NINE YEARS OLD

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

Yeah she lost to Blackbeard immediately after entering the New World, but that was BLACKBEARD

ACE couldn't beat Blackbeard, and that was BEFORE Blackbeard recruited the strongest prisoners in Impel Down! Literally none of the other supernovas would have won that fight either, Bonney was just the only one unlucky enough to run into him

And since when is being a hostage worth 140 mil??? Even ROBIN's bounty was only 79 mil and she could read the poneglyphs. I would argue that they probably wanted Robin a lot more than they wanted Bonney, so there has to be a different reason why they thought Bonney would require a bigger bounty and the most obvious reason is that Bonney was just a menace

Also why would the government keep raising her bounty after Kuma's mind was wiped if holding her hostage was the only reason for the big bounty?

As for the old people and children thing, surely the navy figured that one out pretty early on, at the very least by the time she started fighting them as well

She's been training since she was six, and unlike Luffy, she was able to train with an adult body from the start, and she managed to master her devil fruit powers quicker (possibly because she had them from birth)

I have no idea if she's awakened them yet. Frankly to me it would make sense if she had because the ability to change other people's age seems pretty busted and would fit the description of paramythia awakenings, but who knows with devil fruits, sometimes they're just weirdly overpowered for no reason

Saturn did kinda imply that this is a fruit that basically peaks in childhood so it would also make sense that she would be at her strongest as a child (although I hope Saturn is just wrong about her losing power over time, I hope she proves him wrong)

Anyway, Luffy also keeps getting power-ups mid-battle and Bonney just did exactly that, so I think she's gonna be plenty strong actually. Probably not as strong as Luffy since he is the main character, but I don't buy this idea that she's just gonna be playing with the toy steering wheel while Luffy drives the car. She's not a weakling, she's not a Momo (as much as there are parallels between her and Momo). She's shown plenty of times that she's not new to fighting and Luffy already gave her a lesson in punching like Nika

And again, it's not like her punches were weak before: SHE ONE-SHOT A CP8 AGENT WHEN SHE WAS NINE YEARS OLD

Whether she actually has the powers of Nika, we'll see, but the fact that the elders felt her presence (and were alarmed by it) does indicate that she's got SOMETHING at least

Also I very much hope she does have Nika powers, I think it would be a huge letdown if she didn't. And the power of Nika is the power of freedom and imagination, it makes perfect sense that she would have it

I don't think she could have achieved it without Luffy's help but I do think she has it

CONCLUSION:

Bonney is a power fantasy for little girls and that's great actually

She IS strong, she IS capable, and most importantly: she has protagonist energy

Just get over it already, accept that she's cool

[15-lizards]

loved your asoiaf characters and their olympic sports post!

do you have any more thoughts for other characters?

So many

Theon is in skateboarding but he couldn’t compete in the last games bc he failed his drug test. When he finally makes it he talks big game but gets nervous during his actual runs and busts his ass like twelve different times. Also he has beef with the twelve year old skaters. Also he sees Tony Hawk and the crowd and almost pisses himself then eats shit again. Safe to say he does not medal

Meera is in archery, she gets her first gold when she’s like 15. A modest prodigy. Kinda like that Turkish Olympic shooter who’s going viral rn for having no special gear just vibes. Has no fancy lenses or gloves or anything she just shows up, shoots a bunch of bullseyes, goes :], gets her gold medal, and disappears off the face of the earth for another four years.

Bran is in the Paralympics for archery, cause he watched Meera on tv when he was younger and freshly wheelchair bound, and was inspired 🥺 gets lots of love online for being such a wide eyed cutie. All of his interviews are precious. His siblings are in the stands at every match screaming for him (especially Robb). Robb never misses a chance to promote his brother to the cameras after his own rugby games, and literally runs onto the field to hug him after bran wins his first silver

Oberyn is a beach volleyball veteran, and goes viral without fail every four years. Lifts up his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and suddenly everyone’s rooting for a Dornish gold medal. Insanely talented and more than a little bit cocky about it, but he still funds volleyball programs for underprivileged youth (good for the pr). Messy personal life, his Wikipedia page is like a gossip tabloid for his drug and sex scandals. Also raises up all his daughters to be olympians of course.

Renly does fencing and the international committee literally banks on his pretty boy looks to get people invested in the sport. Very quick on his feet, and usually darts around to avoid getting hit. Twitter artists love using him for drawing references for some reason. Twitter fujos ship him with whatever other hot fencer they see him talking to. Which is fair bc he usually is fucking them but his main boyfriend is rugby player Loras 💜

[jamminvroomvroom]

last christmas.

ln x fem!reader

hello. i got whamageddoned early this year and i’m okay with it bc ‘last christmas’ is a bop. felt inspired to write some sad shit. mixed feelings on this one but we move - no smut for once (who am i?). not much else to say really. lemme know what you think and happy holidays <3

warnings: ANGST! language, alcohol, bad boyfriend behaviour

3.8k words

based loosely on ‘last christmas’ by wham! (normal text = present) (bold & italics = song lyrics) (italics = flashback)

a crowded room, friends with tired eyes

i’m hiding from you and your soul of ice

it had to be one of the coldest winters to date, utterly freezing. the chill had sunk into your bones in early november and you hadn’t been able to shake it since. it was bitter, bordering on painful, left you shaking, but it didn’t compare to the plummeting temperature in the room when he walked in.

it was christmas eve and old traditions were dying hard. the norris household had always been decorated beautifully, warm and cosy and inviting, a highlight of your childhood. cisca and adam knew how to throw a party, your parents and your brothers attending their annual christmas parties since the very first one. your parents were close with the norris’s, as were you, sort of. well, you used to be.

you’d known lando since you were seven years old, when you’d weakly kicked his kart with all the strength you had. he’d beaten you in a race and his smug little face had pissed you off more than the loss. he’d just stood there, grimacing and narrowing his eyes in search of damage. there wasn’t any.

disdain grew into a close friendship as you both continued to compete, weekends spent dotted about the english countryside, moving from track to track. you gave it up, losing interest and seeing a different path for yourself. he never gave up and that’s why he was where he was now, sitting pretty in f1, and not with you.

things used to be fine. you stopped karting and he didn’t, but nothing changed. he was still your best friend and you were still his, but you were just kids. what did you know? nothing, apparently, because as the years went on and life got more complicated, the worst happened. feelings.

it was hard to judge who fell first, but you both fell, tumbling uncontrollably off the cliff and into the rocks below. it was torturous, your late teenage years spent wallowing in internalised angst and self pity, sharing longing glances that you both ignored afterwards.

looking back, it was better that way. the pain had been worth it, because at least you had him in your life. now, you had nothing, while the whole world and the prettiest woman you’d ever seen seemed to rest in the palm of his hand.

it felt a bit silly to be stood there watching him walk in, tugging the sleeve of your tight red dress anxiously. he looked so good that you felt a bit sick, suddenly flushed. the crisp, white dress shirt he wore seemed to wrap around his lean body perfectly, his tanned skin glowing. and her. god, her. she was perhaps the most beautiful woman in the world, or that’s how it felt in the moment, her hand wrapped around his bicep. they were the centre of attention, the happy couple, perfect together. you’d seen her on instagram, shamelessly stalking her page, pictures of them together in dubai, on yachts, in the paddock, making you cry alone in your apartment a million miles away. what the fuck were you doing here?

you turned your back to them quickly, the glass of red wine in your hand being quickly raised to your lips. it had been made for sipping, and so you gagged as you gulped it down in mouthfuls. you ignored the way your eyes stung and took a deep breath, searching for anyone in the crowd that would be able to distract you.

your parents were chatting away with lando’s and the last thing you needed was a grilling on romantic partners and your job from that group, especially since they all knew what you’d turned down last year. your brothers were talking animatedly with oli and savannah, little mila perched on your brothers hip. you wondered why no one could ever focus on his love life instead, he was clearly better suited to having one, the little girl taking to him so naturally. you quickly realised you were out of lifelines, not fancying striking up conversation with a stranger. you knew that you shouldn’t have come, avidly against attending until your mother practically dragged you kicking and screaming. you should have stayed in london, cold and alone and wallowing, because nothing could have been worse than this.

between shaky breaths, you made it to the drinks table, abandoning the stained wineglass in exchange of some far too expensive champagne, seeking comfort in the fact that it would do the job. you felt a familiar presence beside you, tensing up as you said a prayer. anyone but him, you begged. i’ll take her over him, anything. just not him. your shoulders slumped as you relaxed, the sight of max fewtrell doing everything to ease you. as soon as you clocked the sympathy in his eyes, you wondered if his arrival was the worst of them all.

“hey, you.” he spoke fondly, ruffling your hair.

“don’t be a prick, max.” you mumbled, smoothing out the mess he’d made. it didn’t matter really, there was no one here to look good for.

“someone’s in a mood.” he teased, opening his arms for a hug. you glared at him for a second before succumbing, having missed your friend.

max looked tired, the drive from london wearing him out. he was busy these days, everyone seemed to be. you were too, but it was different; you were miserable. you asked him how he’d been, watching as he spoke happily. new opportunities, new girlfriend, new scenery. you couldn’t even be jealous of him, because you knew that he deserved a bit of happiness.

“what about you? how’s it, uh, going?” his head tilted, the returns of that stupid sympathetic look dimming the spark in his eyes. you shrugged in response.

“oh, you know me. i’m muddling through.” you brushed the question off. “being back home is-“

“awful?” he cut you off, deadpan. you scoffed out a laugh. max always knew.

“you know how it is.” you smiled sadly, breaking eye contact.

“have you spoken to him?” max’s voice was gentle, but inquisitive nonetheless. you shook your head so strongly that you could practically feel your brain rattling around. “you should, you know. he misses you.”

you almost fell off your high heels at the laugh you let out, full body shaking with incredulity at max’s statement. he looked borderline uncomfortable as he plastered on a fake smile, as to not make you look quite so peculiar when people turned to see what was so funny.

“are you having a fucking laugh?” you gasped out, voice laced with the unhinged rage that you tried so hard to hide from everyone else.

“you and i both know i’m not.” max was firm, eyebrow raised. “you know how bad last year hurt him. it didn’t need to be like this.” max murmured, and suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore. it felt like you were being told off. maybe you deserved it.

“i did what i had to do. for both our sakes.” you reasoned, hating how desperate you sounded. desperate to prove that you’d made the right decision, to prove everyone else wrong.

max turned his back, opting to stand beside you instead of before you, the both of you now looking out across the room, instead of at each other. there they were, her pressed against his chest, laughing together as they danced. you felt bile rising in the back of your throat.

“and how’s that working out for you?” max’s question sent you straight back to hell.

-

a face on a lover with a fire in his heart

a man under cover, but you tore me apart

lando couldn’t help but stare, the gorgeous green dress you were wearing doing nothing to ease his heart rate as he watched you from across the room. you’d been driving him insane since he was fifteen, and at twenty one, the man could barely breathe in your presence.

you’d been there in abu dhabi, watched him finish off his best season yet, wrapping him a hug when the race didn’t exactly go his way and affirming that you’d never been so proud of him. he knew he was in love with you, but in that moment, he knew he had to tell you, because your pride in him was what made it all seem real. the years fighting for a place, the blood, sweat and tears, the different countries that kept you both apart. you made every accomplishment seem real, because your affection was what he craved more than anything at all.

he gave you as much of himself as he could when he was home, often failing to coax you out to attend races, so when christmas eve rolled around, he knew he had to take the biggest risk of his life so far. liquid courage seemed effective, so the champagne in his glass quickly disappeared, even though the taste made him ill. it was a small price to pay to be able to finally, finally tell you that all of his lucky stars resided in your eyes.

the first problem arose when he couldn’t stop throwing back glasses of champagne. his palms were sweating, anxiety wracking him and all his nerves, the glass being raised to his lips all too easily. the second problem arose when he couldn’t actually see you anymore, eyes scanning the room in panic. the panic overtook any other sense of fear that he felt; he had to find you. the third problem arose when he eventually did.

you were sat in the back garden on the patio, giggling to yourself, as wasted as he was. you smiled goofily when you saw him watching, arms outstretched. he moved to sit beside you in the cold air, and you leaned into him instantly. he froze, thawing out as soon as you looked up at him. all too easily, his arm was around your shoulder, keeping you close, warm.

“what are you laughing about, hmm?” lando asked, words sloshing together, subtlety enough that you didn’t notice. you let out another giggle in response.

“max gave me this. said we should,” you paused briefly, as if you were trying to carefully consider your words, your inebriation getting in the way. “said we should use it.” you pursed your lips, doe eyes boring into his. lando gulped.

twirling between your fingers was a sprig of mistletoe. max is a fucking bastard, lando thought. he stared down at your hands, watching the way you dropped the plant into your lap.

“and what did you tell him?” lando murmured, meeting your eyes again. his eyes were glossy, just like yours were, and he found himself strangely comfortable, at ease. more at ease than he’d been in years.

“told him that you probably don’t want to kiss me underneath the mistletoe.” your smile faltered ever so slightly but you kept up your teasing facade. he knew he had to go for it, now or never.

“you’re right, i don’t.” lando started, watching your eyebrows narrow, a flash of hurt striking your features that was invisible to the untrained eye. way to be blunt. “i don’t want our first kiss to be part of some tacky christmas tradition.”

he dipped his forehead down against yours, the alcohol leading the way as he waited for you to process his words, your lips parting in an ‘oh’ as it dawned on you.

“lando-“ you sounded panicked. he ignored it.

“can i?” he whispered, begging.

you broke free from under his arm, standing to your feet, wobbling as you scurried across the patio to create some distance.

“you can’t just- lando, we can’t. you can’t do that to me.” you were flustered, genuinely distraught.

“do what? let you know how i feel about you?” he tried to mask his the hurt in his voice but it was impossible.

“no. no! you can’t do that.”

“and why not? why can’t i?”

“because it’s not fair!”

-

once bitten, and twice shy

i keep my distance, but you still catch my eye

“because it’s not fair!”

your words from last year stabbed him through the heart as he walked in the room. her tight grip on his arm did nothing to stop his eyes from finding you instantly in the crowded room. he told himself that he hated you, sometimes, just to make it easier. it wasn’t true, no matter how much he wished it was, a fact made glaringly clear by the way his eyes hooked onto you in that dangerous red dress. how dare you turn up here like that? how dare you make him think about you when he was here with her?

lando was certain that you didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘fair’.

it was like a sickness, the way he constantly had an eye on you all evening. it was bittersweet, having you here. he was furious that you’d dare to come, but also the sight of you, a whole year on, seemed to take the weight off of his chest.

he watched you talk to max, curiosity taking over, but he barely had time to process the sight, a hand slipping into his.

“dance with me, baby.” he couldn’t say no to her, so he pulled her close and went along with it. he didn’t let you out of his sight, watching you from the corner of his eye as he swayed with her.

lando could feel your eyes on him, burning holes in his relationship. he felt undeniably uncomfortable, fake smile on his face while she whispered in his ear. the guilt wracked him. she’d been a distraction, a welcome one, and now it was serious. too serious. but at least it was easy, and he felt like he deserved easy, after what you’d put him through.

he didn’t get to watch you for long, your red dress trailing behind you as you stormed away from max, disappearing from lando’s view, empty glass discarded.

lando dropped her hands.

-

you hunched over the sink, letting the sobs ricochet off the walls. you’d tried to be quiet, breathe your way through it, but that seemed futile and you just let the tears take over, numbing you.

max was right. how was this working out for you? it wasn’t, not one bit. you had nothing, no one, and lando had it all, with someone that wasn’t you. you couldn’t blame him for moving on from you, you couldn’t blame him for your unhappiness, not when it was your own doing. you could have had everything with him that she did, and you’d thrown it down the drain.

a long, hard look in the mirror told you that your makeup was somewhat still in tact, the tears finally agreeing to a ceasefire. you were smart to have worn waterproof mascara, you knew it would come in handy. you ran your fingers through your hair, tidying yourself up, hands dragging down your sides to smooth out your dress. once you were sure you didn’t look like a train wreck, you took a deep breath, unlocking the door and peering into the hallway. you wished you’d stayed weeping in the small room.

there she fucking was. her.

her eyes locked on yours in the empty corridor, anxiety pooling in the pit of your stomach. her face softened, an audible gulp signalling from the other woman. except she wasn’t the other woman, she was his only woman.

“i’m sorry, i can find another bathroom.” she murmured, her voice sugar and spice, angelic. she seemed nice. for fuck sake.

there was no way she didn’t know who you were, the way she seemed on edge, fiddling with the silver bracelet on her wrist. i bet he gave her that. you shook your head of the thought, stepping out into the hallway.

“oh, no, no. that’s fine, uh, sorry, here, um, i’ll just go.” you rambled, heels clacking awkwardly on the hardwood floor as you floundered your escape.

“wait! um, i hope that this isn’t hard for you.” she was sincere, so, so sincere, and it made you sick. why couldn’t she be the bitch you’d painted her out to be in your head?

“does he make you happy? is he happy?” you rushed the words out, embarrassed. say no. say no!

she just looked at you, head tilted. more fucking sympathy. it told you everything you needed to know. you nodded your head in forced understanding and turned on your heel.

-

now i know what a fool i’ve been,

but if you kiss me now i know you’d fool me again

“thought i might find you here.” he sounded the same. his voice warmed you up, but the deja vu hit and suddenly you were ice cold again. you were back on that damn patio and he’d found you once again.

“well, here i am.” you replied, sinking into the silence. you wrung your hands nervously, avoiding eye contact.

“didn’t think you’d come.” he was blunt, straightforward. it was better like that.

“you and me, both.” you laughed humourlessly, watching the way his shoulders slumped.

“how are you?” he asked softly, awkwardly. “you look beautiful.” he blurted.

“oh, just fantastic. heard you tried to grow a beard.” you bit back, as sarcastic as ever, hoping that he couldn’t see the blush spreading across your cheeks. it was nostalgic for him, and he would have smiled if it wasn’t for the sadness in your voice.

he couldn’t help but scoff, and you finally met his eyes at the sound, your own narrowing.

“if you’ve got something to say, then say it, lando.”

“it didn’t need to be like this.”

“don’t say that when your girlfriends on the other side of that wall.” you stood from the bench, gesturing at the house.

“it’s true, though. you know it is.” he didn’t take his eyes off of you, his entire focus honed in on you. you deserved it, this onslaught from him. the wound you’d caused clearly hadn’t healed.

“of course i do. it’s all my fault, i know it is.” you spoke desperately, voice breaking, laced with shame.

“do you miss me?” he stepped towards you, closing in.

“do you miss me?” you echoed. both questions were equally as unfair.

“i try not to. every day. but i know i shouldn’t, it’s pathetic.” his voice was raw with emotion, the very same way it had been last year, and your heart thudded inside its cage.

“why is it pathetic?” you whispered. he was close enough to hear you perfectly, now. your breath hitched.

“because you didn’t want me.”

-

“it’s not fair?” lando felt his eyebrows furrow, confused. what wasn’t fair?

“no it’s not.” you said quietly, voice wavering.

“what? what’s not fair?” he was confused, the alcohol and your caginess being a deadly combination.

“you being gone, me being here. c’mon, lando, it wouldn’t work.” you explained, eyes welling up with tears as you spoke. he had never imagined this conversation going so horribly wrong. he’d replayed what this moment would be like over and over and over again, and now that it was here, it was gut wrenching. it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“yes it could. if you want me, this, it could work.” he reasoned. he was firm, this was his only chance. he had to get you to listen to him.

you were quiet, unmoving in your spot across from him. he took another risk. what more was there to lose at this point? he closed the gap between you both slowly, inching closer and closer until your toes touched, and your chests bumped with every breath.

“stop me. if you don’t want me to do this, then stop me.” lando was clear, searching your eyes for any hesitation. your soft nod was enough to convince him to close the gap.

kissing you was relief. it was getting out of the car after a long race, coming home, winning a round of golf. it was sunshine, ethereal, something he’d happily do for the rest of his life. you kissed him back with the same enthusiasm, your hands in his hair, raking through the soft strands. one of his cupped your jaw, deepening the kiss, while the other rested comfortably on your waist.

your hands slid from his hair down his neck and to his chest. he sighed in content, lost in you, until a soft force pressed against his chest. you’d broken away, stumbling backwards, away from him.

“lando…”

“don’t do it.” he looked down, feeling his own eyes begin to water. he’d blame it on the bitter, bitter cold.

“it won’t work. i don’t,” you inhaled shakily. “i don’t want this.”

“you don’t want me?” lando practically whimpered, the same way a puppy would if you kicked it.

“i don’t want this.”

-

now I've found a real love

you'll never fool me again

“go back inside. go on. go back to her.” it had started to snow, frozen rain falling in chilling globs.

“is that what you really want?”

“god, lando. no. are you happy now? no, i don’t want that. i don’t want to watch you walk away. it fucking hurts.” you were crying now, the tears flowing freely.

“then don’t let me.” he looked like he would cry too, and you wouldn’t blame him. your entire relationship had built up to this moment.

“this is ridiculous. you’re with her. and i can’t watch you leave me every week. call me selfish but i can’t. i won’t.”

“then come with me. you could have always just come with me!” his voice was raised now, getting progressively higher in his aggravation.

“and uproot everything, my whole life, to follow you? lando, you don’t get it. i’ll hate you if i have to leave my life behind, and i can’t face that.”

“what do you want from me? i’ve given you options, i’ve told you what i want, something i know you want too, and yet you continue with this deflective bullshit.”

“just go back inside.” you were prepared to get on your hands and knees and beg him to go.

“i’m not doing this again. i’m not having this conversation with you ever again.” his eyes began to water and you squeezed your eyes shut. he looked broken, disheveled, pristine shirt wrinkled.

“good.” it came out emotionless.

“do us both a favour and don’t come next year.”

and with that, he left, just like you’d begged him to, your body turning into ice, veins burning as you froze. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he walked away, forever, as the snow buried you in his back garden.

you grieved him, right there, stood in the very spot that he’d kissed you the year prior. you’d never really be gone and neither would he, too intertwined and hopeless. you gasped out a sob, a cry of heartbreak, your very own christmas carol ringing out into the darkness.

-

taglist

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(i’ve removed any tags that weren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed for my taglist <3)

[blaque-honeyy]

*sigh* I have so much to say about The Bear S3.

I think s3 exists in this type of limbo where there are soo many things happening but none of it is really moving the story forward. My confusion lies in not knowing if this was intentional or not.

I feel dissatisfied, but I'm slightly okay with it (?) knowing that we were told some of these events were going to happen and it wouldn't be authentic if these problems were resolved within the season. Whether or not I remain okay with the events of this season depend on figuring out what the purpose of s3 was.

There is this parallax effect happening throughout the entire season: where Syd & Carmy start out AGREEING to go through this together but once Carmy starts slipping into old behaviors, their perspectives on how to get to that goal become different. Opening the restaurant was supposed to be a big point of unity and fulfillment for them but it has only created more distance and promoted an unequal power balance between them. They are stuck and it feels like chaos moving in slow motion.

The silence between them is so damn loud it's unbearable. Watching the individual descents of both characters is so rough and exposes the toxicity of trying to create something new without addressing unhealed wounds.

I think the restaurant is a toxic relationship for Sydney. She loves and admires Carmy so much, and doesn't want to walk away from something that she's put so much effort into, but there's only so much compromising you can do before you start losing yourself. Syd is rightfully scared that she will forever live in Carmy's shadow.

Carmy is spiraling, blinded by tunnel vision to reach "success", and has lost the fucking plot. It was so interesting to see flashbacks of his career and seeing how compassionate and nurturing his mentors were and instead of trying to embody that, Carmy, DEEP in his trauma, is actively imitating the one man he accuses of destroying his physical and mental health.

Of course he still cares about Sydney. He wants to make her happy, give her the star she wants. But in his obsession to gain that success, he has completely pushed her (and everybody else) aside. His mission to prove himself individually (based off insecurities around his competency as a chef/business owner & not being able to provide for his friends & family) has taken precedence over his commitment to her. As painful as this evolution of their relationship is, I do like the direction and I think it was handled pretty well.

Points of contention for me:

I couldn't give two shits about Claire–sorry. The fact that they retroactively added soo many scenes from when they were together seems contrived and looks like another bid to put another relationship above Syd & Carmy's. Neil telling Claire "you're the peace"???? DON'T PISS ME OFF.

Is this The Bear or The Fak Show? There were a lot of Faks introduced in this season and their banter seemed like it was created to fill in dead air. It was very annoying at some points. (John Cena was great though I can't say anything bad about that man.)

Adding too many tertiary characters. The Faks, the old employees of The Beef to help Ebra. Adding all these characters instead of fostering interactions between the core group.

This might be a hot take but they spent WAY too much time on Nat's pregnancy before the birth. Also, she had this baby and NOBODY but the Faks came to see her in the hospital?? BYE.

Things that I solidly liked:

T's episode! Her struggle with unemployment, losing hope, and then meeting Mikey was easily the most endearing moment of the season for me. Then watching her start to develop her own ideas and creativity in the kitchen was just 🤌🏾🤌🏾🤌🏾.

Again, although I'm team SydCarmy, I like this stage of their relationship. Exposing the flaws, and exploring ways they need to improve for themselves and for each other. I WANT Syd to leave The Bear because 1) it would be good for her health and to see how a good restaurant is supposed to operate 2) I firmly believe that will be the catalyst to making Carm get his shit together. I want him to PANIC. I want him to BEG. I want him to CRY. 😊

As you can see, the latter list is not long enough. There were plenty of things I didn't touch on but that would make this post 5x longer.

I can see how s3 could be the low point of the series. A lot of these episodes would be considered fillers in plenty of other television shows. I appreciate the change of pace but would like it more if it was handled better. And I'm mad that I have to wait a YEAR to get REAL story development after this.

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

Oh, fuck all the way off.

If there is a bloodbath before she is put down, I will rage.

***

LMFAO.

***

If you are not careful, he will have your head removed from your body 🙄

I need to watch this man in a role that is not completely infuriating. He's stupid beautiful and so talented to boot. I can't bring myself to brave Guardian but there must be something I can sink my teeth into.

***

LOL, how did they think this was going to end?

I love how it was only Sheng Hong and Changbai who remained standing in the end with maybe one or two others. They are not getting themselves involved in this circle wank. I do wonder, though, how that will work out for them in the long run, because people are generally not fond of those who did nothing to support them in hard times even if they did not directly oppose them.

***

LMAO, Minglan is done with poetry and calligraphy and has started teaching them practical things 🤣🤣

Future concubines and stepmothers-in-law, beware!

***

Smh. It must be done so she does not become an idiot like you who's easily led by the nose by people with bad intentions.

Seriously, Minlgan is doing this kid a massive favour. With a ridiculous mother like this, things could only go badly for her in the future.

***

Good girl.

I don't know who she inherited her healthy brain cells from, but it certainly wasn't from her parents.

***

LMAO, there is nobody I love on this drama more than Shitou 🤣

He's so smart yet so dumb at the same time 🤣🤣

And to think Qi Heng had a Shitou of his own and got him beaten to death for his loyalty. I'm still so fucking pissed about that and nobody even mentions it anymore. Duchess Qi is going on happily with her privileged and illustrious life as if she didn't horribly murder at least two gorgeous young people for the funsies. There is no justice.

***

Fucking finally!

I was wondering how long it would take him to appoint the single most competent person he has on staff for this important task. Qi Heng can continue to rot, stewing on the issue of how the Emperor addresses his dead parents.

***

LMAO, of course they did and of course Prince Shen is the idiot who let them.

Also, who is the nephew? Prince Shen's son? With which wife?

***

I still don't understand who borrowed money from whom here.

How old is this son? I was imagining a child but it seems like we are talking about an adult here?

***

He's a goddamn self-serving idiot.

Honestly, fuck Prince Shen and his idiotic sister making excuses for him. And fuck anyone running a high-interest loan operations. Yes, debts must be repaid, but usury is a crime for a reason.

I am so not on their side here. I hate this whole family with the exception of Madam Zhang who had the misfortune to marry into this hell.

***

Oh, shut up, you are fooling no one 🙄

I am also getting tired of him looking for trouble where there is none.

***

I feel so sorry for these courtesans who have to deal with idiotic men and their marital problems every day.

She is smarter than every man in this hall combined.

Also, Gu Tingye is not subtle. I hope he compensates her well for listening to this drivel.

***

Of course he did 🙄

Also, why do I care? Let's go back to Minglan and Madam Zhang! 😭 The men can all rot for all I care.

***

Oh my god.

Who the hell are these people and why the fuck do I care?

Why can't we just go investigate the salt trade with Changbai and maybe bring down all of Gu Tingye's evil maternal relatives along the way? I have zero fucks to give about Xiao Duan.

[the-ghost-bracket]

Gerard ‘Gerry’ Kaey propaganda:

"https://youtu.be/uPDx6do0zZ8"

"he only actually has a speaking role in one episode and literally all of the fandom is obsessed with him. leading up to his appearance you hear about all his exploits and his badassery and it’s like he’s haunting the narrative before we even know he’s dead. and then Jon finally burns his page in the Skin Book and releases his soul and we hardly hear from him again and it’s like he’s at last allowed to rest."

"his mom sucked his life fucking sucked. imagine being raised by an abusive pos who regularly performed dark magic involving eldritch fear gods. and even as an adult never being able to distance yourself from that life, the horrible supernatural clings to you like tar. and then you die to regular old cancer in a foreign country, alone. and your fucking boss binds your skin into a cursed necromancy book so you can't even get your well deserved rest, forcing you to stick around as a ghost. gerry deserved better"

"Sassy goth went from “then piss off” to “I always wanted my friends to call me Gerry” within one episode. Most competent character in the whole fandom aside from the evil-doers."

"This poor guy had a rough childhood, died pretty young, and then basically got his soul bound to a cursed book. He’s still sorta alive through the book, but in order to reach him he literally has to relive his death every time anyone wants to talk to him. Not good. Despite all this, the one time the main character got to talk to him he turned out to be a pretty nice guy who explained everything about the weird stuff happening in-universe he possibly could to Jon, in return for being set free from the book. He’s just a lonely kid who got done SO dirty in life (and death) but he did finally get to rest in peace."

"Described as an angry goth"

"(following is transcript from e111)

ARCHIVIST

You can’t be serious.

GERARD

I’m dead serious.

[GHOSTLY CHUCKLE]

(thats the funniest shit youve ever heard )"

"Gerry's literally the fucking coolest ever. In life he was a goth who burned evil books and tried so hard to have a good life even though he was neck deep in evil spooky shit. He says ""I'm dead serious"" when the protagonist is talking to him. He's so cool."

[generic-sonic-fan]

Why do I headcanon Omega as strongly identifying as male?

(NOTE: this post is by no means any sort of response to anyone, nor is it intended as any kind of argument. This is purely me musing over my own headcanon, and I hold absolutely no shade for anyone who headcanons any different! In fact, I love seeing interpretations of Omega that are nonbinary or with any other sort of gender fuckery. They brings me a ton of joy, even if they aren't my main headcanon.)

Doesn't that seem. . . stereotypical? After all, most big, violent robots are automatically gendered as male in media. Instead of using gender-neutral pronouns, killing machines are so often defaulted to 'he' and 'him'. For example, most recently in one of my old fandom, a character who had previously only been referred to with it/its pronouns got referred to with he/him pronouns in canon, thereby erasing its gender neutral identity. I was pissed beyond belief.

Why, then, would I take this gender neutral identity away from Omega?

Well, the problem is that it's become common now to assert that a robot is gender neutral, yet use he/him pronouns anyway. The Iron Giant displays no gender identity other than the fact that he emulates a human boy that he befriends. Transformers have long since been established to not have human sexes, yet most Transformers characters use male pronouns anyway. Bastion from Overwatch, the aforementioned character who was robbed of its gender neutral identity, often exhibits very feminine traits and even possesses a more neutral anatomy than any of the examples I have mentioned thus far.

All of these robots fall victim to the fact that "male" is considered to be "default". To be "female" is somehow something you must add to yourself, something othering. Masculinity is equated with normality, and in more recent times, with gender neutrality.

Omega is the same. No matter what canon writers state about his gender identity, he will always be referred to as he/him in any source material. He is referred to as male, and maybe as gender neutral, but never as female, because male or masculine-presenting androgyny is default, and you don't see any lipstick or eyelashes on him, do you, huh (/s)?

The thing is. . . looking at Omega's behavior, he's NOT that feminine. He exudes this machismo and bravado about him that, while not exclusive to, is heavily indicative of a more masculine gender. His penchant for violence and his passion for all the manners in which it can be created reads like a boy eager to get his hands on the next COD game.

This isn't default! This isn't normal! This feels like a gender to me. While these traits aren't exclusive to men, they are extremely masculine. I just think he'd identify with that once he learned more about it, y'know? I'm by no means saying that nonbinary people can't use masculine pronouns, or even that Omega isn't still nonbinary under my headcanon- he absolutely is because being a robot is an inherently transgender experience. But I'm trying to subvert the idea that his maleness is "default", and instead proposing that it's an intentional decision on his part. Kind of an exercise in autonomy, if you will.

All of this, of course, is based on my interpretation that there is more going on inside Omega's processor besides single-minded murder, which is not a common interpretation amongst canon or even most of the fanbase outside of my tiny corner of tumblr. My interpretation of his character is that his core drive is his ego- establishing himself as the coolest and most competent robot ever with an identity totally superior to anything Eggman ever planned for him, for example. (With the murder part being the main facilitator of that, of course.) Without this interpretation, the idea of Omega giving a flying fuck about gender kinda falls apart.

TL;DR: I propose Omega identifies as male to combat the perceived notion that a robot with no assigned gender at birth uses masculine pronouns as "default", arguing against the idea that masculinity is somehow default and femininity is weird and different, by making Omega's masculinity as something weird and different and worthy of note as well.