#is trying to study them all under a microscope. i would too

[kirbyluvr63]

need f1 fanfic recs

im SO fucking glad you asked!

im gonna give you some of my favs here and youll kinda notice a pattern, i guess! im about to expose my whole psyche in front of you.

first, one of my favorite ships is maxiel! but i particularly love anything that explores daniel's character specifically, so my first rec is an entry on Daniel Ricciardo's Internalized Homophobia Fic Fest!

heart's a mess by nunnit - just a great character study of internalized homophobia and trying to no-homo your way out of your own life until you lose the one guy you really loved. warning: there's a bittersweet ending! ships: Jenson Button/Daniel Ricciardo; Cyril Abiteboul/Daniel Ricciardo; Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen; Daniel Ricciardo/Blake Friend; Daniel Ricciardo/OMC

Montreal Bounds by ellipsis99 - this one has a happy ending! daniel's in a complicated relationship with a guy who has a girlfriend and max makes him reconsider a bunch of stuff. ships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen; Daniel Ricciardo/Scotty James; (brief Max Verstappen/Pierre Gasly)

pale green things by yekoc - historical fiction set during the tulip fever where jos is a rich tulip trader that commissions daniel to paint a portrait of max for his fiancee. yekoc is a GREAT author, i recommend anything by them! ships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

glory, from a high rise by yekoc - speaking of, another BANGER from yekoc. daniel works at a bar and max is a neurotic alcoholic office worker who's also horny as all hell. there's some commitment issues involved as well. it's perfect. ships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

honorable mentions:

a body wishes to be held and held by CamilleDuDemon

All We Knew of Home by LoveLeah

mon voisin by kitversuskat

now, my second favorite ship, my actual favorite drivers on the grid and the ones i cheer for: galex! <3

table in the back by crescenteluce - if you love miscommunication you'll love this one, the dialogue is so precise like you can clearly see how one would misinterpret what the other is saying and at the same time you get why the other person didn't even realize a misunderstanding happened aaaaaaarrrrgghhhh it's a bit infuriating too but so so good. ships: George Russell/Alex Albon

footnote in someone else's happiness by finedae - in this one george and alex kind of have a fucked up relationship... they break up so george can date women and fit in the box expected of him, but stays in touch with alex and alex has to, as the author put it themselves, keep things real. ships: George Russell/Alex Albon

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by prettyrotten - this ones also crazy good and revolves around miscommunication.. i guess this is my favorite trope for them for some reason. george humiliates himself to keep his relationship with alex who just decides how george feels and makes things shitty for everyone. must warn you that i almost cried with this one, very angsty, but with a happy ending! ships: George Russell/Alex Albon

honorable mentions:

take care of you (take care of me) by ginnydear

Strike a Pose by amphibiangeorgerussell

carry you home (orphan work)

another ship that i adore is charlos! their dynamic is very interesting to me... between them and between ferrari and also i just like carlos and want to study him under a microscope. can't wait to find out how his chemistry will play out with alex once they're teammates tbh

In for a penny, in for a pound by chiliconcarlos - this one's the quintessential charlos fic; a required reading, if you will. charles gets drunk and hires an escort to accompany him at a wedding so he doesn't show up alone in front of his ex. he thinks he hired a female escort, but then carlos shows up and... the rest is history. just a very very good fic. ships: Carlos Sainz Jr/Charles Leclerc

the same as all those men by almondmilkk - idk about you but i'm obsessed with cowboys and this is THE cowboy au... carlos has a lot of repressed feelings and internalized homophobia and charles just doesn't give a fuck anymore, it's glorious. ships: Carlos Sainz Jr/Charles Leclerc

my blood is singing with your voice (the saints can't help me now) by choripan - if you like catholic guilt, this one's for you! there's a lot of religious imagery in this one and it's just... chef's kiss. charles and carlos meet at an abandoned church while on vacation at mallorca with their respective families. ships: Carlos Sainz Jr/Charles Leclerc

honorable mentions:

semiotic study by linearity

says he's gonna teach me just what fast is by foggystars

can't sleep 'til I feel your touch by chiliconcarlos

and now.... for my most deranged ship: george and lance. "WTF??" you may ask, and i say "don't knock it till you try it!" think of it this way: george is stuck up and hates himself a little and lance is just there and doesn't give a fuck and is the pillowest of princesses. unfortunately few see the vision so there isn't much, but i can't recommend enough Lesson Learned by bottomtxt who's also one of my favorite fanartist here on tumblr and the one who opened my eyes to this AMAZING ship dynamic! finger trap by rivalism is my other recommendation for this criminally underrated ship!

and this is it! i hope you'll enjoy it

ps.: sorry for taking a while but as you can see i was taking this very seriously and i had some college stuff to get done at the same time etc etc... feel free to keep talking to be about it, tho :)

[beepathan]

What your opinions are on Terra/Ohse and Iori/Kei ? Not even necessarily as ships, I enjoy the ships but also those specific pairings are just very interesting in general to me :)

these dynamics fascinate me. as all charisma house dynamics do. for example io/saru has the childhood best friends thing going on, not to mention their whole Things re: being a subservient masochist and a rebellious little bastard respectively. theyve been Up there in terms of canonically interesting and DEEP dynamics since day one. very solid

terra and ohse has that same sort of contrasting flair to it now that you mention it. with terras whole self love and beauty thing vs ohses... deal. i still love that episode where terra came into ohses room and complimented him on his art until he found out there was a real life lizard on the premises the whole time. and then basically told ohse Never mind. i think you should die actually.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.

Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3

When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.

It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.

Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.

Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.

A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.

You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.

Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.

~

“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.

“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.

“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.

“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.

They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.

“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.

“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.

You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.

You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.

They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.

You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.

“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?

“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.

“OW!”

~

Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?

The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.

Well, unless you were there.

“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.

“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.

“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.

“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.

Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.

For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.

There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.

“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.

“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.

“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.

“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.

Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.

There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.

He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.

It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.

~

“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.

“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.

Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.

“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”

“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.

You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.

“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.

“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”

“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.

“Please,” he mutters.

“What was that?”

“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.

“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.

“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.

“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.

“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.

In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.

With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.

And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.

“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask

“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.

“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.

“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.

“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.

“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.

~

It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.

Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.

Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.

“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.

She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.

“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.

“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.

“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.

“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.

“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.

And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.

~

People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.

It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.

“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.

“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.

“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”

Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.

Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.

“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”

~

“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.

“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.

Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.

“What makes you think so?”

“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.

“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.

Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.

“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.

“We’re actually married.”

The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.

Then, all hell breaks loose.

A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.

Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3

Part two out now!! Read it here.

[ahhhwomen]

Eternal Slumber.

Vampire Empire

Part 5

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: This is kinda just a filler chapter while I work on requests (if anyone else have any feel free to drop by my inbox), so it may be a little while until part 6, that being said, enjoy lovelies!

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), death, suicidal ideation  Minors DNI 18+

Summary: They say a taste of death can change a person forever. However, they never take into consideration, that maybe, that’s the only thing coating your tongue on a regular basis.

Word Count: 2k

Taglist

There are tiny spikes of ice against the metal, almost like a layer of fuzz over the orange rust. It creeps into every crevice, the metal bars groan and creak, and the water, frozen inside some of the weaker spots, bursts and tears apart the material.

The cold was affecting everything.

You stare at the metal hook responsible for keeping you in place. The concrete around it is dented and smoldering. With a microscope, it would look like a mountain falling apart. Stone by stone.

It wouldn’t take much force; you ponder if you could release it with just a weak tug. You probably could, but you don’t bother.

Your body sinks lower, and the concrete scratches against your stomach. Red welts burn in displeasure as the friction reawakens the former punishment. It’s as if the weight of your body has doubled overnight, you can’t keep yourself up.

It’s hard to breathe.

It’s hard to stay awake…

The cold was affecting everything.

Including you.

You glance out the window with meager eyes. The trees pass by faster than you can keep track. Your head pounds, and you want to rest.

Just for a moment-

A gruff voice disturbs your peace for the hundredth time.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep.”

You had been lying in your enclosure all day, preserving your movements for only necessary situations. You wanted to dream it all away, but you knew you shouldn’t.

With both your nose a fresh pink and fingertips a bleak blue there wasn’t much to do other than to study your surroundings.

Your eyes glide over the same small details you have stared at for years, though there was a beauty to your misery, every corner and prickle of this place glittered against the slim beam of light from the hallway. The golden gleam reflected like sunlight against the ice, however, where you lay chained and tense under your red lamp, it felt more like a mockery.

With a sigh, you looked over to the empty shackles, frozen to the ground opposite of you. Your muscles burn as you grip the ground firmly and attempt to lift yourself up. Your arms shake in effort, your nails grinding against the pavement, but you can only manage to push upward for less than an inch.

Then a light thud echoes as you fall back down.

You’re so tired…

Your eyes slip closed for a second, there are a select few in the hallway that whine and growl, and you try to shift your focus onto them. Their hoarse voices screech against your eardrums, and you can’t help the grim expression as you listen to their cries…

There were more yesterday…

Of course, it was a given that this place took away some hope, but you know that isn’t the reason the numbers of distain more than halved overnight.

The rag over your lower half shifts away from you with every minuscule movement, it slides against your bottom, and slowly, the grime and dirt settled within the flimsy material slather itself against you as it leaps the final length and falls off.

It’s almost as if it knows you are too tired to move it back.

You are so sick of this place.

The cries are silenced as you hear the familiar thunder of shaking keys.

With a bitter glance to the other side of the room, you pity yourself; if you had any strength left, you would wrap the chains around your neck and hang yourself.

You huff in annoyance as the redhead shakes you vigorously yet again.

You can feel a swift, but gentle, slap on the back of your head. The redhead’s hand taps against you, her palm making quick contact with the greasy hair.

At your whining Wanda voices her opinion, “Don’t start with me, I told you not to fall asleep.” The powerful woman’s annoyed voice wraps around your lingering headache. Her calm tone was more like a booming against your forehead.

Shifting under the red leather, you whimper even more. The heating blasting towards you feels strange. Hot air sifts around you, almost like a tunnel of wind directed solely at your slumped frame. A noise, a mix of a hoarse cough and a weak cry, can be heard as Wanda shifts her own heat toward you too.

Realizing you won’t back down on your bitching, Wanda retrieves her hand with a roll of her eyes and refocuses on the road in front of her.

Trees and livestock pass by in a blur, there are tiny speckles of muck and dirt against the expensive windshield. Snow sits snug in the more stubborn corner of the window, small flacks forming a pile unmovable by the front wind.

Goosebumps prickle Wanda’s skin, the bite of winter making its entrance this early must really do a number on places like the shithole you´re from.

The car lifts for a moment as one of the bumps rustles the lambo, you shrink in on yourself, your pale skin retreating to hide under red leather. The redhead’s foot pushes downward harder, the exhilarator vrooming as she frowns.  

Wanda doesn't even know what possessed her to take you, but if she left you there, you would surely be dead by the end of the day.

Natasha was always far better at understanding humans, however, given the little bond you two have, she is unsure how the other redhead will react to your current state. She glances at you in her peripheral, your lips are tinged blue, same with your fingertips and toes.

You don’t even shiver, and Wanda passes another stop sign with no regard. Shivering is a good thing; it means your body is aware you are cold. No shivering is bad, like really fucking bad.

Her hands tighten against the steering wheel, the skin between her rings and knuckles, clamp and squeeze in an irritating pinch.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand that if you aren’t yet hypothermic, it won’t be long until you are.

With a sigh, Wanda reaches over to settle the jacket more tightly around your frame.

It’s a fifteen-minute drive to the house, Wanda makes it in seven.

Natasha frowns, and the smell of burned vegetables invades her senses. With an irritated scrunch of her nose, the redhead goes to trash yet another pot of attempted soup.

The goo of estranged ingredients jiggles unsettlingly at the top of the trashcan as Natasha pours the substance out. The ring on her left pointer clinks against the pot as she places it back on the stove.

She can never get it right.

With a huff, the redhead pulls out her cell phone, her hand wraps around the silver piece and she goes to find her messages. Her thumb makes quick work of checking on Wanda yet again, the pad of her finger taps the screen rapidly, the remains of her failure smudges against the glass, and Natasha cringes.

Her unread reply to Wanda’s previous questions remains the same, wiping her hands and phone off with the kitchen rag, the redhead walks over to her preferred room of leisure.

The clacking of her heels hitting the flooring is dampened as she steps onto the carpeted part of their little den.

A soft glow illuminates the living room, and the tenseness of her shoulders lessens as she lets the orange hue wash over her.  

Plopping herself on the green couch she reaches over to her purse, the case reports she needed Wanda’s thoughts on lying on the very top. The paper brushes against her fingers, the white sheets threatening to tear as Natasha's nimble fingers search through the mess lower down.

She is just about to read them over again, when the familiar rumble of her wife’s car, pulls into their parking lot.

Shifting the gear stick, Wanda finally manages to park, your shuffling and whining had certainly not been helping. She can see her wife waiting for her by their door, but Wanda knows she is going to have to wait a moment longer.

You sit beside Wanda, your body wringing and shifting, you feel hot, and sweat rolls down your forehead.

The black belt meant to secure you through the drive feels more like a restraint as you push your shoulders against it. Bone threatens to pop out of the socket as the strong treads hold your weight back with ease, the pressure against your bruised body does little to deter you.

Wanda tusks, “Stop that.” Her hand reaches over to you and unfastens the belt, “Calm down baby, we are already here.”

Wanda pauses.

She scrunches her eyes, her left hand tightening the hold against the steering wheel.

Wanda doesn’t do nicknames, or sweet ones anyways, not unless it’s her wife.

Yet, the nickname had slipped without a second thought.

She has little time to think about it however, the sound of weak banging calls out to her, the redhead’s attention shifts and she groans in annoyance as you have now moved on to trying your luck against the metal door.

Your fingers run along the interior of the door, the pounding in your head makes it hard to see, and everything blends together in a mess of colors and sounds. You try to feel your way to the handle, but only expensive patterning can be felt as you try gripping the handle.

“You can never make it easy for me, can you kitten?” The redhead mumbles to herself.

The black tinted windows stop anyone from seeing what is happening inside Wanda’s car, but the taller woman can see Natasha shifting uneasily at how slow her usually effective wife is being.

With a sigh, Wanda rolls up the sleeves of her blouse, the silken material gliding and scrunching at the crease of her elbow.

In an attempt to settle you, if only for a moment, Wanda presses her right hand flatly against your chest. With a controlling movement, she pushes up and down to signify a breathing cycle more suitable than your erratic one.

She holds her unoccupied hand against your thigh, rubbing it up and down gently. The friction does nothing but alarm Wanda further.

Knowing she can’t turn around now, Wanda steps out of the car, your scent leaking out into the chilly wind outside their estate.

The shift in Natasha’s behavior is one not entirely surprising yet distinctively fascinating as the smell of your cold blood clings to the inside of her nose.

The taller woman moves to your side of the car; she secures you tightly in her arms. You try your best to squirm out of her hold, your hands clawing against Wanda’s covered biceps, but with how tired you are it’s little use.

You slump into the redhead’s body. Her leather jacket forces you even deeper into the scary woman’s embrace.

Realizing there is no winning this, you finally fall into the deep exhaustion that lies beneath your skin.

Natasha stands as still as a statue. Every muscle within her expands and contracts, but she can’t move.

Until she can.

At a young age she was taught that every choice one makes has consequences, every decision she has ever seen through in her life has been planned to the very tee before any move was made. She never “vamped out”, she never made a mistake, and every notion of her life was just how she planned for it to be.

Why, because Natasha knows restraint.

Your limp body lies seemingly lifelessly in Wanda’s hands.

Natasha doesn’t think.

The weight of your slim body is removed from Wanda faster than even she can comprehend, her leather jacket that was lying close to her chest, just as you were, is now gone, just like you. For a reason she cannot explain, anger bubbles beneath the exterior of the older woman as she watches Natasha carry you to the house.

With a speed unchallengeable Wanda stands just behind her wife. Her hands wringing the material in front of her in a firm grip, the black fabric is soft inside her clutch.

Holding her back by her jacket Wanda questions her wife, “What are you doing?” her anger lingers within her tone.

Enough so that any other day Natasha would stop dead in her tracks, today, however, was not one of those days.

The thick fabric of Natasha’s suit slips from nimble fingers as Natasha rips herself away from the redhead. With a blank face, she turns toward her wife, two prominent canines peeking out between soft lips.

“She is freezing to death.”

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[dancingdonatello]

I want to put your work under a microscope and study it my god it’s STUNNING. Like the stories compared to the stuff I usually read is pretty short, and yet you convey so much character and emotions in each one! 

I don’t think you’d done anything like this yet but if you have already sorry! But I’m hopeless to a good opposites attract dynamic, so could I request Donnie with an S/O who is a witch apprentice in witch town but they suck at magic? Most of their spells leads to explosions so they prefer stuff like science instead cuz everything is laid out for you and everything makes sense?

I’m genuinely curious how people would write for Donnie with a witch s/o considering how he’s shown to view witch town in the show 

rise donnie x reader

He absolutely preens when you express your interest in science. He shows you his collection of microscopes and usb drives. His fancy super computer. His database of many classified scientific files that could start another world war.

You’re enchanted by all of it. Your many compliments and avoidance to mention any witch stuff to him definitely helps your speedy relationship. You’re dating within a month, despite his ‘hatred’ for witches and magic. In fact, he sort of forgets that you’re one in the first place. Sort of.

He catches you practicing some magic by yourself and realizes that you’ve never once shown him any magic. He feels a little sheepish, thinking he made the relationship all about him. It’s too easy for him to get caught up in himself.

He urges you to show him something. It blows up in your faces but he doesn’t seem too mad about it. He wipes the sparkly dust off his face and shrugs at your embarrassed teary eyed look. “Mine explode all the time too. At least yours isn’t toxic fumes and radioactive fuel.”

He’ll even brainstorm with you and April to try and find methods in improving your skill.

(And no matter how hard you try, you cannot get him unbanned from Witch Town. The council refuses to hear you out. His wanted poster remains on every public bulletin board. You draw hearts on them to make up for it.)

[pomegranatesandtangerines]

based off this post

how I think (some of) the Dungeon Meshi characters would interact with an isekai-ed reader who's hyperfixation is dungeon meshi

includes: Laios, Falin, Kabru, and Toshiro (Shuro)

Laios

im imaging reader meeting him when he was a child

a little after Falin was born and after he was given the dungeon gourmet guide

reader actively seeking him out but kinda starts freaking out when they actually see him

reader decides to go with the approach being interested in his book

Laios was suspicious at first ( the book is one of the main reasons he got bullied )

but after some time and patience he got comfortable with you

I feel that Laios would be very attached to reader

like someone besides his sister who gets him, listens to him, communicates with him, etc.

listen as someone who is very hyperfixated on dungeon meshi at the moment I would be so invested in learning about monsters

and Laios is more then happy to talk about it for hours

reader making a point to support his dream of exploring the dungeons bc his parents are dicks

he wouldn't really be weirded out by reader seems to know so much about him, maybe early on but over time I feel he would just be glad to have someone like that by his side

low-key though,,, I think there would be a small small part of him that is kinda jealous over how reader seems to just,, get some people

Falin

I see reader being her number one hype-person as a child

reader would also beg her to teach them some magic

I think that Falin and reader would meet through Laios

Falin while she is outcasted from her home town, is still a litter more sociable then her brother

but what had her truly open up was not only the readers support of her magical talent but also the readers interest in learning about how biology works in this world

she also info dumps a ton

you know how she kept bringing Marcille things cause she wanted to eat them with her

she would 100% do that with reader,,, and the amount would increase when Laios leaves

Kabru

he would be veryyy fascinated by the reader

his hyperfixation is people. studying them, their anatomy, psychology, how they tick

he would absolutely notice how reader picks up on things, knows things about some people without even having met them, predict events

to put it simply he wants to study reader under a microscope but is also extremely suspicious of them

he's also gonna pull out all the stops to try charm his way into understanding reader

his distrust sky rockets the first time they lock eyes, he can see it in his eyes, this look of understanding the deepest parts of him

he does not like it

it takes a long ass time for him trust them and genuinely open up again

reader making a point to ask things that will make him want to info dump

"hey did you notice how x was acting today" or "did you hear that x and y got together? do you think they'll make it?"

gossip buddies

Toshiro

ALRIGHT LET ME START BY SAYING THIS, HE IS WAYYYY TOO MISCHARACTERIZED IN THIS FANDOM

and reader would be all too aware of this as well

he is heavily implied to have a hyperfixation on bugs, and had to at a young age become a master at masking and picking up on social norms

but anyways-

he would think reader is weird, mostly bc they would remind him of laios

slowly but surely I feel he would feel more comfortable

another case of the way to his heart is through the info dump

maybe walking back from a little adventure and noticing a beetle and showing him

now hes not gonna be as outwardly as excited as Laios

but it is slightly noticeable that he is interested and excited

reader offers to give it to him and asks him some questions

less info dumping and more info sprinkling but still he does like to talk about it

I think he would appreciate how they seem to pick up on his smaller details, maybe not a perfectly but still

[twigg96]

Don’t Push It

Pairing: Daryl x GN! Reader

Era: Alexandria (Pre-Season 8)

Pronouns: You/They/Them

Warning: Crack, Eugene being a perv, Angy Daryl, Protective Daryl, insinuated spicy scene, forgiveness of Eugene

A/N:

Hello lovelies. I would like to state that I think Eugene is a very unique character and I adore him in a very special way. I have many HCs about him and might release them eventually but for now please enjoy this fic. I just wanted to state for the fact I do not hate Eugene even though I placed him in a not fantastic light here!

The warm summer air buzzed with excitement in the Alexandrian homestead. Gardens were planted in the early spring and only now were starting to begin to produce flowers and food that the community so desperately needed. The sweet smell of earth's nectarous vegetables and fruit mixed with that of fresh cut grass, a scent you had never known you would ever miss so much in the apocalypse. It was a smell so heavenly you wished you could bottle it up.

Sitting on the garden wall with one of your freshly picked winnings you perched your leg up, resting your elbow on your thigh to help stretch out your aching back.

“Hell of a harvest.” Abraham murmured wiping a thick layer of sweat from his brow.

“Might be too much to use at one time…” Sasha sighed shaking her head examining the bounty standing next to Abraham. She stared down at the bushels of veggies and fruits the community had grown counting out loud. "It would all go bad before we'd use it all..."

“Could can it. Could make good jam and preserves.” You suggested taking a bite of the veggie you held in your hand.

“Or dry ‘em out.” Daryl murmured popping out of the crops covered in soil as your boyfriend tossed another bushel of carrots onto the pile.

“Could rehydrate them in stews or jest eat them like jerky.” A hum of affirmation rolled through the group as you all eyed the feast sitting in front of you. No matter what you chose, Alexandria was going to be well fed for a long time.

Glancing over your shoulder at footsteps crunching down the gravel pathway towards the gardens toward you and your group, your first instinct was to tense and prepare yourself for the worst. This world had hardened you. Made you jumpy and pessimistic.

His eyes plastered to the rocks beneath his feet you felt your body recoil. Eugene had never been someone who made you feel comfortable to be around. He always eyed you a little too closely, analytically. And this time as you saw Eugene trudge in as if with a purpose and a mission not even bothering to acknowledge Abraham or Sasha as they greeted him, you felt more like prey in his sights in his eyes than ever before.

Your stomach sank as his intent gaze turned from the ground onto you. He eyed you as if you were a science project he was so desperately trying to get ready for a middle school science fair. Or maybe an ameba that he was studying under a microscope desperate to understand. Your breath felt heavy in your lungs when you looked at him, so you turned your gaze to your fresh breath of air. To Daryl who all but shot Eugene with his glare. The scientist pissed him off in a way way too many could. He made him feel dumb and insignificant. He asked him questions to deliberately make Daryl feel stupid and uneducated. A nerve that the Dixon was very sensitive with and thus you were very protective of.

You shifted where you sat on your perch upon the wall watching as Eugene took his place right in front of you, just a tad too close for comfort.

"Hello... I'd like to formally request a private audience with you." The doctor's thick southern accent did not accompany his attempt at "proper communication" well. Instead he just sounded like he was parodying Shakespeare to a point it was painful and inappropriate. But that was Eugene... and he was in fact inelegant in some aspects... but profoundly knowledgeable in most so you let it slide in some cases.

This one however had you cocking your head and raising your brow in a sort of amusement at him.

"Private audience? What do you think I am now Eugene?" You teased. The doctor nodded, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly, staring at the ground in thought for a mere second before meeting your eyes once more.

"Someone worthy of it... a monarch... a deity even." He mused. Sitting up straight in surprise you glanced behind the portly man to see Abraham pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"God damn it Eugene..." The red head hummed with a giggle from Sasha by his side. Daryl however did not seem amused by any of what was going on. His glare planted firmly in the middle of Eugene's back.

"Shut up Abraham." Eugene bit out harshly.

"I said I wanted ta talk ta them in private... so get out." He ordered pointing down the path he just came up.

Abraham rolled his eyes and sighed his mustache fluttering with the act. But he didn't move. Instead he his hand wound tight around Sasha's, his eyes meeting yours, silently reading your face. He was friends with Eugene, yes. Best friends even. But that wouldn't stop him from kicking his shit in if he ever made someone uncomfortable, especially someone he considered a friend. But you just shrugged offering Abraham a little smile. It was Eugene... what's the worst that could happen?

Abraham didn't seem to like that answer.

"Nah... We're stayin'." He growled glaring at the back of Eugene's head.

"Can't fucking tell me what to god damn do." He hissed with Sasha nodding by his side.

"Damn right. We were here working..." She hissed crossing her arms over her chest. Rolling his eyes Eugene gestured for you to follow walking a few steps down the path.

"They ain't comin'." Daryl growled defensively, making Eugene jump nearly a foot in the air as he turned to stare wide eyed at the archer then back at you who hadn't moved an inch.

"Daryl's right Eugene..." You hummed sending your archer a loving look that only somewhat softened the bristles on the man.

"I'm here to work even if I'm here on break right now. I can't just walk away... and really whatever you have to say... you should be able to say to my face with everyone else around." You said more confidently than you currently felt.

Waffling on his feet for a moment Eugene murmurs soft and low to himself. So low in fact that you couldn't hear what he was saying beyond your name and privacy. You did however hear Abraham and Sasha murmur to themselves about finding some serious 'help' for the poor guy. Maybe medication or a trip to Dr. Denise later when the gnome of a man looked back up at you, determined once more.

"Fine." He stated walking to stand back in front of you. Somehow even closer this time so he was between your crisscrossed legs.

"I'll just condense what I had to say down to it's bare essentials, since we are in a public place. Much like how you would distil ingredients for some chemical bonds." He drawled. Closing your eyes you scrubbed your face but nodded.

"Sure Eugene..."

Whatever... You think.

"What's up?"

Taking a deep breath he steps closer so that he was pressed up against the wall which you sat, clearing his throat he met your eyes staring at you as if you were the cure for cancer.

"I just think yer the bee's knees." He mused.

Awe that's actually pretty sweet... You think, your shoulders relaxing and a soft smile gracing your lips.

"I'd very much like ta lay you out like a firm steak and pound you out on the counter top until your soft and tender." He said smirking up at you with all the confidence as if he had just solved world hunger... even going as far as to lay his hands on the wall on either side of your thighs.

You gasped completely appalled staring back down at him, completely shocked and mortified you blinked and shook your head. Truly you were not entirely certain you had just heard him correctly. And by the looks on friends' and more importantly boyfriend's faces it seemed they weren't sure about what they heard either.

"I want to split you open and eat you like Sunday dinner after church."

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Your mind defrosted. You'd definitely heard him right that time.

What the fuck? WHAT. THE. FUCK?! What gave him that idea?

One glance back you nearly broke into tears. With laughter and embarrassment. Abraham stood eyes wide, mouth agape staring at Eugene like he was the missing link. Beet red you couldn't tell if it was because he was royally pissed or if he was just as embarrassed as you felt.

Sasha glared. She glared hard with intent. You had a feeling if Abraham didn't have her wrist in his hand she might have slapped the ever loving shit out of Eugene.

But then Daryl... God Daryl was unreadable. He looked somewhere torn between murderous and betrayed. It had taken you months to get Daryl back out of his shell after everything on the road... after the prison. If it weren't for you and Rick... He might not be in Alexandria at all. Your heart broke. A cold fear fell upon your shoulders. Daryl could fall back into it. Retract. Leave.

In your thoughts you'd missed what Eugene had been saying. He just kept talking... and talking... and talking. He always did. But this time was different, it was vile, filthy degrading things coming from his mouth. Things that made you angry and sickened and embarrassed.

"-tell you about how I could use my knowledge of science in the bedroom. I am smarter than you in everyway which is a huge turn on."

Enough...

"Oh and don't get me started on-"

Shut up...

"You should let me-"

Glaring daggers at Eugene you stood on the edge of the wall, now a full body height taller than him. Not that he seemed to mind one bit. Creep.

"Shut the fuck up." You hissed, feeling dirty as he nodded greedily at you. Hopping off the wall you landed on your feet beside him. Grabbing him by the collar you shoved him hard into the wall knocking his head into the the rocks. The shiver of pleasure that ran through him made your skin crawl.

"Let me get this through your thick fucking skull." You hissed getting into his face. "I do not want to have sex with you. I will never want to have sex with you." You growled shoving against him. But instead of an immediate pleasured sound he seemed to just examine you once more.

That is until you felt the presence shift behind you from emptiness to tense and protective. A dirty calloused hand gripped your forearm pulling you back a step to stand behind the archer's back to see his wings.

"They ain't gonna repeat it... but I sure as fuck will." Daryl growled stepping up nose to nose with Eugene.

"Don’t fuckin’ push yer luck. Stay the fuck away from 'em. If I ever see you houndin' round them again... I'll beat yer ass." He hiss tilting his head threateningly.

Eugene shivered and shook. His eyes wide in terror searching for yours and Abraham's for what you could only assume was assistance. But as you stood there, feeling not a drop of empathy for him, Abraham and Sasha came to stand beside you. Slamming his hand into the wall beside Eugene's head Daryl huffed.

"Hell if I even get wind of you comin' near them again and it's not for somethin' life or death. I'll beat your ass." Shoving away from the wall Daryl eyed Eugene with a shake of his head, distaste dripping from his expression.

"Ya think yer such a big man. Can do whatever the hell ya like jest cause ya can throw a few big words round... ya ain't shit. Now fuck off." He hissed walking over to you wrapping his arm around your waist. A dark angry look filled Eugene's eyes. One that sent shivers down your spine and creep to hide behind Daryl once more.

"You think just because you have strength that they are attracted to you. But you are an ignoramus a-" His rant was short lived. Daryl only had to move slightly, pretending to pull back in preparation to punch Eugene before the doctor was scurrying down the path faster than anyone had ever seen him move before.

"I'm gonna have a real stern talk with him... Excuse me" Abraham sighed scrubbing his hand down his face as he followed down the path to follow his friend. Sasha however waffled her feet her eyes flicking between Daryl and you.

"I'm going to just... go harvest... over there if you need me." She said awkwardly moving to the other side of the garden where she could very much still hear and see you both.

Slowly Daryl turned to face you his eyes glimmering with something dark and dangerous.

"Daryl..." You whispered shaking your head softly a pout playing on your lips. Slowly Daryl's fingers curled and unfurled around the nothingness that was the air. His piercing blues scanned down your body sending a shiver down your spine. You opened your mouth a breath was all you could take before his hand shot out and gripped your neck backing you into the wall he looked down at you with an intensity that brought goosebumps to your skin.

"He do this before? He hurt you?" Daryl growled protectively. His grip on your skin wasn't tight. But inviting and comforting. Reaching up to his wrist you felt him release his hold. Bringing his hand up to your lips slowly you kiss his knuckles then the palm of his hand.

"My love..." You whispered. "I would have told you in a heartbeat if anyone came near me."

Daryl watched you. Studied your actions. His hand relaxing against your lips. Fingers unfurling to take up your cheek and hold it as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“Fuckin better have.” He whispered softly. His eyes meeting yours. A deep yearning sucking you in as he met your lips, wrapping his arm around your waist possessively. Pulling you tight to his body you felt his need press into your hip. His tongue tangling with yours before trailing down your lips and jaw to the soft spot on your neck.

His breath caught in his throat. Words going unsaid Daryl pulled away glancing down the path Eugene and Abraham had just walked down. The soft glint in his eyes melting back into a hateful tone.

“Hey…” You whisper. “how about we go for a ride?” You ask interlocking your fingers in his. Cocking a brow Daryl simply blinked at you.

“Yeah. Why not?” You ask smiling up at him. “We can. Grab our gear from the house. Go to Aaron’s get some supplies. Tell Rick and make a week of it. How’s that sound. Just us outside the walls for a week?”

Lifting the side of his thumb to his mouth Daryl chewed and picked at it for several minutes, glancing over to where Sasha had wandered off to.

“Would you like that?” You whisper stepping forward slowly. Reaching up you wrapped your fingers around his wrist gently caressing your thumb across his skin, gentling his hand back to your side away from his mouth. Blue eyes met yours and you couldn’t help but swallow the thick nothing that got caught in your throat.

“Yeah…” He murmured. “Yeah let’s get the hell outta here.”

The ride to no where was soothing for the both of you. The rumble of the bike both lulled you into calm and ushered in a heat neither of you could ignore. Holding tight to Daryl’s middle your hands roaming did nothing to help the situation. The first safe place you found became the loudest once secured.

Scratch marks adorned your back. Sweat dripped down both your skin as you pressed your lips together. Murmuring of I love yous all throughout the night.

When you both returned a week later. Throughly happy, pleasured, relaxed and with treasures a plenty for Alexandria; Eugene, Abraham, and Sasha stood alongside Rick at the entrance. Daryl looked back at you. Waiting for your blessing before turning off the bike. Patting his side you nodded. You’d hear them out.

“I… would like to throughly express my apologies.” Eugene said softly, waffling his feet. “I acted irrationally and inappropriately. That was completely unacceptable. I hope we can continue to be friends.” He finished, glancing to Sasha and Abraham.

Sighing you glanced to Daryl. The murderous glint and anger was gone. Though he was waiting. Watching. He was watching you. Waiting on your reaction as much as you were watching his.

“I forgive you.” You say turning to Eugene, hugging Daryl tight around his middle. “I forgive you but I’m not happy with you.” A relief washed over Eugene though he nodded a serious look to his face.

“Understood. I have crossed a line I should never have crossed. It will not happen again.” He murmured. Hugging Daryl softly as if soothing a growling guard dog you smiled. “Good.”

[azzibuckets]

Paper Rings [Part 3/10 | Paige Bueckers]

Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

Summary: part 3 of the paper rings series! some insight into paige and reader’s friendship before everything happened

A/N: some fluff and fillers before the angst gets real 💔💔

word count: 1.9k

masterlist w/ all parts

FLASHBACK: 1 YEAR AGO

“Is this yours?”

You had been rummaging through Paige’s closet, looking for a clean oversized shirt to wear to sleep. You two often slept over at each other’s place, to the point where your clothes were so mixed up you guys basically shared the same wardrobe. Unfortunately, Paige wasn’t the most organized person, so you were huffing and puffing as you hunted through the piles in the drawers.

The shirt you were holding up had LVN Volleyball Camp splayed across the front, so you knew it definitely wasn’t Paige’s. It was really big though, so you were curious as to whose it was. Just to know if you could wear it or not, you convinced yourself. Not because you were trying to confirm your fears - that this was another girl who Paige had held that wasn’t you.

Paige didn’t look up from her phone when you asked your question, so you crumpled the shirt up into a ball and tossed it at her head. You were no basketball player, but the balled up shirt smacked her on target, right in the face, and you fought back a self satisfied smile.

Paige finally looked up, giving you one of her soft smiles that tugged at your heartstrings. You loved when Paige looked at you like that, all gentle and affectionate, with half of her mouth turned up into a close mouthed grin that you knew so well.

“The shirt,” you gestured at it.

“Oh.” She looked down, unfolding the shirt and studying it before giving out a laugh. “Shit, sorry, that’s Stacy’s. I don’t know how it ended up in my closet. She was just here yesterday.” She folded the shirt into a neat little square and placed it next to her on the bed. “We must’ve been getting a little bit too wild,” she smirked, waggling her eyebrows at me.

Your heart sunk. Yesterday? You mean, you knew Paige talked to a lot of people, but she usually didn’t talk much about it, probably because she knows you get grossed out with too many details. Your chest stinging, you went to sit on the bed next to her. You didn’t wanna find a shirt anymore. All you wanted to do was go to sleep after a long day.

“What’s up? What’s got you being so emo?” Paige got down to lie her head in your lap, looking up at you with her bright blue eyes. Her was nose scrunched slightly, in the way that she does when she’s happy, and she reached up to play with the ends of your hair, twirling the strands between her fingers.

“Nothing. Just tired and moody,” you lied. You drummed your fingers against your thigh.

Paige smirked. “You really need to get laid, Y/N,” she laughed.

You managed to muster out a weak half smile in response to her words, trying to shove down the itchy pain that rose in your heart. “Shut up, Bueckers.”

“Make me.”

You rolled my eyes at her senseless teasing. “You’re such a flirt,” you groaned. Pushing her off your lap, you got up to look for your charger. You could feel Paige’s eyes on you as you moved about her room. Her legs were splayed out, and she was slumped on the bed. You hated when she did that, just looked at you. It felt like she was studying you all bare under a microscope.

The dynamic between the two of you had definitely shifted since last month, ever the drunken incident on the Big East championship night. You had mumbled apologies the morning after, when she had swung by before practice to make sure you were alright. She didn’t really listen to them, shoving you in that good natured way and assuring you that you guys were “chill like that” and that she could never be really mad at you.

But ever since then, there’d been a tension between the two of you. It spiked in moments like this, where she would start shamelessly flirting with you, trying to get a rise out of you. You didn’t mind much, per se, until you really thought about it and realized there was no meaning behind her flirting. But that was a disappointing reality you were trying to ignore.

“Come back to bed,” Paige called out. This time, you couldn’t tell if she’d meant for it to sound so sexual, but you crawled back into the bed where Paige was bundled up under the sheets.

“You look like a kid,” you giggled, “all wrapped up like a burrito.”

Paige rolled her eyes, a small smile playing at her lips. You felt her grab your waist and pull you closer so now you were both under the mountain of blankets and pillows she had formed. “You’re so warm,” she mumbled sleepily, pressing her forehead against your shoulder.

Both of you knew this was not how normal best friends slept together have a sleepover. But neither of you cared. This was where you felt most comfortable in the world, with Paige’s arm slung across your chest and one of her legs intertwined between yours. Her face was buried in your neck now, and her hair tickled your cheeks.

You could get used to this forever, you thought as you went to sleep.

——————————

Your heart thrummed with anticipation. Today was the day UConn would face off against Louisville in the Final Four of March Madness. You missed Paige; the last time you saw her was when you slept over two days ago. Ever since then, she’d be busy, understandably so. Basketball was her life, and she dedicated all of herself to the sport in times of competition like this.

Paige had gotten you a court-side ticket using one of the family spots allotted to her. Only her dad, step-mom, and Drew could make it to the game; her mom’s side of the family were on a vacation in Spain. On one side of you was Drew, who was happily bouncing in his seat, wearing one of his sister’s jerseys that was adorably big for him, and on the other side was Kayla, who’d gotten this game off but still wanted to watch anyways to support the girls.

As you watched the game, you oscillated between moments of pure joy and happiness when Paige sunk one of her 3s, moments of anger when one of the girls got fouled on without getting any calls for it, and moments of uncertainty when Louisville scored another point and the UConn girls tried to fight off their dejection from showing on their faces.

But you started to stay in the realm of uncertainty once Louisville started gaining, leading by 12 at the end of the third quarter.

“Are they gonna lose, Y/N?” Drew turned to you with a hopeful look in his eyes. You swallowed the knot in your throat. Basketball was everything to this team, and they’d worked so hard to get here. They didn’t deserve to lose, not when they were this close to the national championship.

“I hope not, buddy,” you responded quietly, and ruffled his hair. For the last quarter, Drew gripped your hand, swinging his legs anxiously as the game unfolded.

Despite the team’s best efforts, UConn fell to Louisville, 75-66, and the girls walked off the court, pain fresh in their eyes, their necks steeped with sweat and jerseys sticking damp to their chest. They moved tiredly, some of them being collected for brief post-game interviews while all of the others headed back to the locker rooms.

You made eye contact with Paige, and she pursed her lips, shaking her head sadly before slinging a towel around her neck and following the rest of the girls out.

“She looks so sad,” Drew’s voice was quiet next to you. You could tell he was upset too.

“It’s okay, buddy,” you assured him. “You know what? I bet they’re still selling the pretzels outside. Wanna come with me and see if they have any more churro bites?” Drew’s face lit up at that, and he eagerly shot up from his seat and grabbed your hand.

Paige’s dad, Bob, shot you a grateful smile. “We’ll find Paige, talk to her. You guys join us after, alright?”

You nodded, leading Drew out. To your luck, the pretzel stand had one more scoop of churro bites left that the man gave to you for free since they were closing down.

“Good, Drew?” You reached around him and stole one of the churro bites, popping one in your mouth.

“Y/N!” He groaned, sending me a fake glare. “Now you owe me.”

“I brought you all the way over here for pretzels and I owe you?” You gasped in offense, folding your arms and sending him a fake glare back.

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Now you owe me a piggy back ride.”

You laughed. “Okay, hop on,” you agreed, bending down. Drew cheered and jumped on your back, causing you to stumble forward. Both of you giggled as you straightened yourself, and you carried Drew all the way down to the locker rooms.

A security guard stood in the entrance to the hall of the locker rooms, a bored look in his eyes. As you tried to pass, he raised a hand. “Sorry miss,” he stated in a monotonous voice. “Players only.”

“It’s alright, she’s with me,” a voice called out. You looked up to see Paige at the end of the hall, her hair wet and tied up in a loose bun. Even after having just played a tough game, she looked unbelievably gorgeous, her cheeks rosy from the exertment from earlier.

“Paigey!” Drew clambered off my back and barreled into Paige, squeezing his little arms around her waist. Paige, ever the big sister, managed to push aside her feelings from the Final Four loss and look happy for Drew, whom she hadn’t seen in months.

“Hey, bud,” she said quietly, bending down to give him a proper hug. “I missed you.”

They talked in low tones for a moment, Paige smiling fondly at her little brother, before Azzi came along from the locker rooms and stole Drew away to meet the other girls.

Now it was just you and Paige in the hall. She stood up, and you moved to her. Before you knew it, she was in your arms, hugging you so tight you could barely breathe. You wrapped your arms around her, one hand coming up to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, an effort to do whatever possible to comfort her.

“Hey,” you turned your head so your mouth was next to her ear. You whispered in her ear gently, “It’s not your fault.”

Paige drew back, her eyes glassy. Breathing shakily, she said, “All those 3s that I missed. Geno was counting on me. He said I had to step up since Azzi was injured, but I didn’t step up. I missed so many.”

I gripped her waist. “Look at me,” I said firmly. When she looked up to made eye contact, I brought my hands up to hold her face so that she couldn’t look away. “What about all the points that you did make? And all the plays you set up for your teammates? I don’t know much basketball, but I watched you out there, and you played with so much fierceness and grit. You played so goddamn good. Don’t be ashamed. At all.”

Paige reluctantly nodded, before pulling me into another hug. We stood there silently, her face buried in my neck and my arms hooked around her waist, until one of the UConn team assistants came bounding the hall.

“Uh,” he scratched his neck nervously as his eyes flitted between the two of us. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for Paige to do press.”

Paige groaned. She stepped back, separating our bodies. “Come over later?” She whispered. “Please?” Her eyes searched mine, all hopeful. She was hurting, and hurting bad.

“Of course, P.” I squeezed her hand before stepping back too, letting the assistant shuffle her away to the press hall.

[gfmima]

c. 東京卍リベンジャーズ | tokyo revengers + f!reader t. you’re WAY out of his leagues and he knows

sano dojo, it reads.

an hour before to your arrival, mikey decided to text you his home address, inviting you to meet him prior to your date at the beach.

it was weird to say the least.

you two already had a habit of meeting at the location itself to save time thanks to his busy schedule and whatnot. your mind overflows with different thoughts all at once — some whisper it was bad news, others reassure it was nothing for you to worry over.

the very last thing you need to do is freak out on such a nice day… or was it? maybe you should’ve brought an umbrella? is it too late to go back? maybe you can ask mikey to bring one just in c—

“can i help you, miss?”

your body tenses up.

a man stands opposite you with an equally clueless look. he holds the door open on stand-by to hear your response until a wave of recognition washes over his face.

“you must be mikey’s girl! hold up… y-you’re mikey’s girl!?” he opens the door wider and welcomes you inside his home with an expression of disbelief. he then introduces himself as your boyfriend’s eldest brother before guiding you to the kitchen where he stayed.

you try to ignore the bizarre looks he sent you and walk two steps behind him. was there something on your face? your hand reaches to grab your pocket mirror.

“oh, mikey~! look who’s here to see you~!” shinichiro says in a sing-song manner, forcing all eyes to be on you now.

you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t feel the least but self-conscious by their reaction. it wavers from surprise to stupor like they’ve seen a real-life ghost and you can feel your nerves prickle from their intense stares.

with his unruly blond hair obscuring his face and dried drool on his cheek, you would’ve chided him for wasting precious time if his siblings weren’t studying you like a new organism under a microscope.

“i’m not interrupting something, am i, ‘jiro?” you scurry over to his side, holding his forearm like a frightened child.

mikey shakes his head and reached to rest his arm over you immediately, his expression visibly brightening at the sight of you here. he looks at izana, who scoffs at him, and sticks his tongue out as if he wasn’t a full-fledged adult.

“ha! i told you she’s real!”

you tilt your head. huh?

shinichiro offers an apologetic smile for his brother’s idiocy, whereas emma and izana continue to gawk. the pair glance at you, then at mikey, then back at you.

“you’re lying. no way a woman like her would date someone like you. back me up, em!”

“uh, i’m staying out of this.” she raises her hands and backs away. “you two handle whatever this is on your own.”

your boyfriend purses his lips in a serious pout. he turns his back on his older brother, scoffing, “well… you’re just being jealous!”

his comment spurs them to continue arguing like little kids. you stand in the middle of the crossfire as it ensues, greatly confused by the entire ordeal. should you step in?

“i’m super, duper sorry about them. boys are boys, y’know? they’re dumb.” emma’s sheepish tone pulls your focus from the chaos. “so… you must be mikey’s girlfriend! you’re very pretty. i can see why he always talks about you!”

then there was izana… who cuts the conversation short just to look at you closely and demands, “quick! blink twice if he intimidated you to be his girlfriend!”

“is he really not paying you to do this?” is the last thing you bank on to be the first thing your boyfriend’s older brother would say to you.

your mouth opens to give him piece of your mind, though, it promptly closes, not sure of what to tell him. you must have look like a fish out of water as your mind wrestles to process what he said to you.

your foots taps along in an uneven pace, counting down the seconds in your head until rindō came home from his short trip to your go-to restaurant for dinner take-outs.

“what do you mean?” you settle on asking him, as you try to keep your tone neutral as possible.

ran picks a piece of lint off his sleeve and looks at you in the eyes. “what i mean is, he isn’t the most popular with women because of attitude. breaking news, right? and, well, you’re very easy on the eyes. it’s weird to think my own little brother was able to convince a pretty little thing such as you to be his.”

he didn’t mean it to sound as harsh as it did.

he just impressed by how long rindō was able to keep silent about your relationship. he didn’t even realize anything was amiss until he returned one day with you clinging to his arm like a high-strung puppy.

the fact his baby brother — a twenty-one-year-old man — was no longer, a baby, albeit endearing, was baffling.

“i’m not interested in hearing about his dating history. rindō treats me right and that’s all i care about.” the blunt edge in your tone piques his interest.

huh, you weren’t paid to play pretend girlfriend after all. you appear genuinely upset with what he said. still, he can never be too sure. he lived with rindō long enough to know he was just as stubborn to prove him wrong.

“there’s no need for the attitude, sweetheart. i’m just…” ran chooses his next words carefully. “expressing how shocked i am. that’s all. you understand, right? you’re the first girl he brought home and introduced to me — the only one without a three-week expiration. he’s like a changed man.”

you bite the inside of your cheek. what on earth is he trying to imply?

“i’ve got no clue what you did to him but he’s been happier lately.” if you strain your ears, you can hear him offer a tiny, “thank you,” under his breath.

“trust me, the feelings mutual.”

ran shows you a silver of a grin.

despite your cumbersome start, it was obvious he cares for rindō like any other older brother would, putting in the extra effort to embarrass him any way he can. you suppose going here wasn’t a bad idea after all.

delighted with your answer, he offers to show off every baby photo of your boyfriend, especially the unflattering ones. he even lets you take a few pictures with your phone.

“he was so pale then, plump too… he kinda resembles those daifuku mochi, no?”

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 19

Not a Sound

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 3885

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: You reveal your secret.

Author's Note: Thank you soo much for all of the support and encouragement, especially with the last chapter! I hope you enjoy this one! 😭💜🙏🏼 (BIG DRAMA & EMOTIONS WARNING)

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Vaginal Fingering, PIV Sex, Hair-Pulling, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“Can I have a drink?”

Four powerful pirates blinked at you. 

It was strange to be on this side of the coffee table. Buggy sat in your spot on the couch between the other leaders of the Guild, while Shanks had pulled up a chair beside Crocodile.

Your green, velvet chair felt like an examination table. Like you were under a microscope, about to get chopped into tiny pieces to be studied. 

Buggy had clung to you all morning, barely going a moment without touching you during breakfast. You were grateful he hadn’t tried to feed you any fruit. That thought sent your eyes flicking toward the red haired pirate, more bile climbing up your throat. Buggy’s floating hand rested on yours while they all stared, but you couldn’t get yourself to hold onto it. 

“What would you like to–”

“I’ll get it,” you jumped up, cutting Mihawk off, and leaving Buggy’s hand to float alone when you pushed it away to stand. The little bar felt like miles away, and you grabbed the first thing you could see. Crocodile’s stinky scotch in its pretty crystal bottle. You poured a heaping glass, vaguely hearing a reaction from the couch before you chugged the burning liquor.

“What the fuck, baby?”

“Y/N, stop!”

“Don’t— rabbit!”

The three of them surrounded you, snagging the bottle and empty glass from your hands too late while you coughed from that toxic, liquid fire. Crocodile got to you first, kneeling out from the sand at your feet to grab your flushed face, wiping away the stinging tears that you knew wouldn’t be the last. 

“Sweetheart, why–”

“Sweetheart,” you choked out, the sound a mix between a laugh and a sob. “Gods, I’m sorry, I– fuck.” 

The looks on their faces made you want to scream. You rubbed your eyes with the meat of your palms, trying to be less fucking pathetic. 

“Drink, love,” Mihawk soothed, holding a glass of water to your lips. 

“We’re right here, star,” Buggy whispered as he pressed a light kiss to your shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s okay,” Crocodile promised, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re our Numbers Girl, no matter what. Alright?”

Your body slumped, nodding as you let them guide you back under that microscope. Shanks was staring at you, but nothing meant anything anymore, so you didn’t bother to study his face. 

They let you sit there. Time was empty. It could have been minutes or years before you finally mustered up the energy to ruin everything.

“I’m fucking stupid,” you announced with a sharp laugh, feeling insane. 

Maybe I am. Maybe he did put me away. 

“Don’t talk like tha–”

“What do you mean, sweet girl?”

“You.” 

Growling at your scarred lover, confessions, and a suicidal accusation flowed through your body, spilling out through your eyes and lips. 

“You were going to kill us if I wasn’t useful. I could have been free, but I… I called those people for you.”

Crocodile’s face was as cold and unmoving as stone, a cliff you could leap off of. 

If only you could have stopped. No one said a word, but the energy was already rolling through you, destroying everything, your throat still raw from that fucking scotch. 

“I was an idiot. I was fucking kidding myself thinking I could wait, thinking I could have a few more days.” Your manic laughter turned to pain, a sob hitting your last words. 

Glancing up at the couch, you saw your three men clenching their jaws. Crocodile’s arm was wrapped around Buggy, that large hand digging into Mihawk’s shoulder, while Mihawk had grabbed Buggy’s floating hand, gripping it in his own lap before it could fly to you. 

“There’s no way I could hide it. Someone at the party will say it…”

“Say what,” Buggy rasped after a long moment. 

Your eyes poured over your men one more time before it was over. 

“My name.”

Everyone paused, and you remembered Shanks was there. His face was a mask, unreadable, and you were grateful for another reason to ignore it. 

“Are you saying that your name is a lie,” Crocodile asked in a dangerous purr. 

“No. None of you ever asked what my last name was,” you pointed out, then laughed as you looked between them. “I guess pirates don’t really care about last names.”

The laughter died in your throat, tears streaming now in your moment of defeat. 

“What’s your name,” Mihawk asked, his voice more gentle than you’d ever heard. 

It’s over. 

“Y/N Sylvad.”

…

…

…

“Like the wood company?”

You clamped your hands over your mouth, the shock of laughter that burst through you at Buggy’s confused face, his cute question, almost had you believing it would be alright. 

But the other men in the room shifted. Crocodile pulled his arm away from the other two to rest his elbows on his knees, leaning toward you while he answered his clown.

“Not a company. A fucking empire. Sylvad’s Lumber and Shipping. Is that what you’re telling us right now?”

“Yes,” you breathed, already watching their eyes change. Already watching them forget who you were. 

“Keep going,” he ordered, his words cold, ice building up around you. 

“It’s not mine,” you begged them to believe you. “Dad died and…”

You couldn’t. You didn’t know where to start, or if it even mattered now. 

“Arbo Sylvad was your dad,” Shanks murmured, sitting up a little straighter while he studied you. 

“You’re Sylvad’s heiress.”

“No, I'm not,” you snapped at Mihawk, not caring when his golden eyes flared at you. “Uncle Cedrick got everything. Dad always said it would go to… I was fifteen when he…”

Crocodile’s silver eyes were like molten metal, and you choked on your grief as you watched him stand. He walked to that giant desk of his, and when he returned to drop your thick notebook in your lap, you flinched, bracing for pain. 

“Unreliable,” he growled, tapping the notebook with his hook as he brought his eyes down to yours, his frightening face so close. 

“Everything I said was true,” you pleaded, mind blanking out with fear while Mihawk came to touch Crocodile’s shoulder. He didn’t budge, and though your mouth went dry, you forced yourself to explain. “Those people are unreliable! They'd talk to people that could cause problems for the Guild. People with connections to the Marines.”

“Like your Uncle?”

“What do you mean, boss,” Buggy tried to redirect, his hand on the hook that was digging into the back of the chair, his body leaning against the larger man’s shoulder. “They just sell trees and stuff, right?”

“Every single Marine ship on the fucking water right now was built with Sylvad wood,” Crocodile fumed, Mihawk’s hand stroking along his arm as you shrank beneath those silver eyes. “Hells, almost every ship that sails out of Water 7 is built with that lumber.”

“I don’t get it,” Shanks complained from his chair, though you couldn’t see him past the angry man in front of you. “If you’re the heiress of Sylvad’s, why were you working? You were an accountant or something, right?”

“Investment banker,” Buggy bragged, and you almost smiled that he remembered. “My girl’s a fancy financial advisor.”

“Let’s give our girl some breathing room, Crocodile. We don’t know everything yet.”

You only heard Mihawk’s whispered words because Crocodile was a hair's breadth away. He brought his thumb to rub along one of your cheeks, and the back of his hook to smooth along the other. 

“Tell daddy everything, alright, sweetheart?”

Your eyes fluttered shut until he pressed into your cheeks, slow tears falling from your eyes when you nodded for him. 

“Yes, daddy.”

The warm kiss he pressed to your temple made you want to disappear. Nothing. Nothing ever again. 

You were barely there as the words fell from your lips. Eyes unfocused, hanging loosely around the little table by Mihawk’s seat. You smiled to yourself when you realized it looked strange without a glass of wine on it. 

“Dad died on a business trip. Freak storm. Left everything to Uncle Cedrick. Kat and I got our trust funds for school. Mom got nothing.”

“I think we’ll need more than that, little rabbit,” Mihawk cautioned as he glanced over at Crocodile's stern face. 

“Can I have a drink fir–”

“No,” said the three men on the couch. 

Holding your head in your hands for a bit, you tried to figure out how to say the least amount of painful words to get them to leave you alone. 

“Uncle took us in. He was such a caring person, taking in his brother’s poor daughters, his lonely wife,” you spat, venom dripping from your lips. “I didn’t want to belong to him. My trust fund paid for the best education out there, but all my friends stopped… When they knew I had nothing to give them, they treated me like shit. I kept doing what I'm good at, and I got the fuck out. Went to go live that stupid, boring life.” 

Growling with the frustration of spilling this pathetic, entitled trash, you stood to pace behind your chair, waving your notebook around as if you could make it burst into flames with your will alone. 

“I am fucking amazing at my job, but most of these people just looove the thought of the poor little heiress helping them get richer. Most of them can’t wait to put me in their little collection. Add me to their fucking shelf. Just gotta ask Uncle how much his little niece– FUCK!”

The notebook went flying, skidding across the floor while you shoved the heavy chair over, yelling, raging, kicking that stupid green chair until your shoes fell off, your toes fucking hurt, until your clown stopped you.

“Baby, please,” he soothed, his upper body floating to keep your struggling form from reaching anything on the ground to hit. “It’s okay, star, I’m right here. Fuck those assholes, right? Who needs ‘em!”

Part of you felt guilty for not laughing at his sweet attempt, but the rest of you needed to fight or flee. 

Flee from these powerful men that were already using you to make money. 

“Put me down!”

Buggy’s whispered, “star,” hurt like hell. You held yourself still when he set you down gently, back in your spot as you faced the couch again, although your chair was kicked off to the side. 

“Wanna know how high to set the ransom,” you challenged, your clenched fists shaking at your sides. You couldn’t think clearly enough to read their darkened eyes, even Buggy’s as he took his place between them. “Just so you know, Uncle doesn’t like me that much. He’d probably be happier if you killed me. Or you could buy me, that’d make him extra hap–”

Sand. 

Sand flooded the space around you. It lifted you off the ground, and your breath caught as the coffee table got thrown to the side. You met those silver eyes just before you were in his arms, your legs stretched across the laps of the other men on the couch. 

“What…” you wondered, mind in a daze.

“You thought I’d sell my sweet girl,” Crocodile hummed, kissing the top off your head.

“You told me you would,” you reminded, your body and mind feeling distant, separate from whatever this strange world had become. “How much am I worth? Just keep being valuable, useful? You were already gonna sell me or kill me before you knew what a goldmine I was.”

The icy anger that laced your words made every hand on you go still. Crocodile froze as he started to rock you, and your body couldn’t choose between guilt at hurting them, or anger and fear at what they would do. 

“I think I’m drunk,” you whispered, wanting them to let you go, and wishing that they never would.

“No shit,” Buggy laughed, “I’m surprised you’re alive after that.”

His hands started massaging your legs on his lap, rubbing up and down nervously while you closed your eyes.

“Can I go lie down?”

“I’ll take you, star.”

Crocodile and Mihawk’s hands dragged along your skin as Buggy lifted you into the air, but neither stopped him from taking you. Neither stopped him from floating you away.

Neither called you pretty names as you left the room. 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“I’ve got you,” Buggy promised. 

Getting her onto that giant bed felt like a race. Something was right behind him. Something would stop him.

Something would take her away again. 

Finally there, he wrapped his arms around her, leaning against the headboard while her scotch scented breath warmed his chest. 

“Your breath stinks, baby.”

Maybe it was a laugh, but that choked sound made his chest tight, like a huge hand was crushing his ribcage. 

I can’t do anything. Fucking useless. Can’t help her.

“Buggy…”

“Shh, I’m right here, star,” he promised. The sound of his name on those quivering lips sent fire, rage, and guilt straight through him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He could never leave her. He could never leave her with them after this. Even if they…

Buggy kissed her temple, trying to be soothing while he waited for them to crash through the door.

Waited for them to take her from him.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

Not a sound.

Not a sound filled the air as the men in the lounge sat with the news that their little lover was the heiress of Sylvad’s.

Not a sound from the two men on the couch as her accusations weighed on them, as though she hadn’t left their laps with those angry, frightened tears in her eyes. 

“That sure is something,” Shanks whistled softly. He stood to pick up Y/N’s chair, sitting across from them. “What are you gonna do with—“

“Find somewhere else to be,” Crocodile fumed, his body vibrating with the need to hurt something.

Shanks nodded, giving a crooked smile, before leaving them alone. Mihawk stared after his old friend, images of comfort he couldn’t provide burning behind his eyes.

He’s going to take them both. 

Serves us right.

Crocodile’s angry huff pulled Mihawk out of those thoughts, watching the man stomp toward the bar. The coffee table his sand had moved laid in his path, until it splintered and scattered from the touch of his vicious foot in that lovely shoe. 

The swordsman floated after him, still in a daze while the larger man imitated their girl, chugging a glass of scotch. 

Mihawk stared, but didn’t speak, didn’t touch.

Crocodile set the glass down before he shattered another one. 

“She lied—“

“Can you blame her,” Mihawk laughed coldly while the other man paced. Silver eyes shot like daggers, but Mihawk couldn’t seem to care about anything at the moment. “She told the truth, just not all—“

“She didn’t trust me.”

He sat again, staring at the floor after those stupid words had left him.

“I don’t…” Mihawk started, pushing himself to move, pushing himself to try. He sat down, and touched a hand to Crocodile’s shoulder, leaving it there after his scarred lover flinched. “We haven’t given her much reason to, have we?”

Not a sound after that. 

~~~🐊🗡️🐊🗡️~~~

~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Y/N! You can’t just leave,” Kat reasoned, pulling the clothes out of your hands before you could stuff them into your suitcase. “What about mom? What about the company?”

“Mom made her choices,” you growled, pulling the clothes back from your sister’s shaky hands. “And I don’t care about the fucking company. It’s not mine.”

“Not if—“ 

“It’s not mine. I’m sick of this fucking life. I’m getting out.”

“... What about me?”

That stopped you. But only for a moment. 

“I’m sure he’d let you come if—“

“Are you fucking kidding me right now,” she shouted, pushing you toward your messy suitcases. “He’s a pirate! If he doesn’t hurt you before, what do you think he’ll do when he finds out who you are?”

“I don’t care,” you fumed as you stared your little sister down. “I'm bored of this stupid life.”

Kat’s mouth hung open, the hurt and pain in her eyes making you want to take it all back, to beg for forgiveness.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t waste this chance to be free. 

“You really have a death wish, you know that? That clown is going to get you killed,” Kat breathed, her voice growing colder as she turned to leave. She didn’t look back when she said her goodbye, just waved her hand over her shoulder. “I’ll look out for the ransom note.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Sleep?

Sleep.

Burning sleep, and stormy seas.

Dad’s voice calling for you. 

You could never find him before the ship went under, before all that Sylvad wood splintered beneath the raging waves.

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Buzz off, idiot,” Buggy ordered in a harsh whisper, Shanks’ smiling face peeking through the cracked door. Buggy had left his body on the bed to hold Y/N as she whimpered, nightmares ruining her scotch and stress induced nap. 

His head floated by the door, frowning at his old friend. 

“It’ll just be a second, Bugs, I swear.”

Shanks’ smile stretched even wider when Buggy agreed, floating his head out into the corridor.

“This better be good, asshat.”

Shanks felt it. This was it. He could have them both. 

He needed them both. 

“Let’s take her with us, Bugs.” 

Buggy’s look of shock was exaggerated by those red lips of his, and Shanks had to hold himself back from kissing them.

“But she… but it’s dangerous…”

Buggy wasn’t sure he’d actually heard those words, or if he’d fallen asleep, dreaming beside his star. Too many emotions rushed through him, but all he could think about was her. 

“Would you rather leave her here with them,” Shanks rasped, his eyes doing that heavy thing they do, although there wasn’t much of Buggy’s body to drag them down. “We can protect her. You and me, Bugs.”

The clown had to fight his body to stay still as he held her in the other room. The need to move, to fidget, to pace, made him dizzy. 

“What if she doesn’t wanna go,” Buggy wondered. Images of Y/N smiling, laughing, screaming, flew through his mind, each one making him doubt that he could ever make her as happy as she’d seemed once things had started to settle here. 

“I already asked her. I know she’ll say yes. She wants you to be happy, Bugs. Just like I do,” Shanks confessed, brushing a bit of blue hair out of Buggy’s face. He rubbed his thumb across those red, parted lips. 

So close to everything. 

“When did—“

“Buggy?”

Shanks watched his clown fly away from him, hopeful that it’d be the last time. 

Buggy flew away from his old friend, every confusing thought going blank besides the need to comfort that soft, scared voice. 

“Right here, got you, baby.”

~~~🤡🔴🤡🔴~~~

“Buggy,” you whimpered as new tears fell. 

“Shh, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Painted lips covered your face, kissing your tears away until you shivered, his soothing hum blocking out everything else. 

His touch kept it all at bay. 

Every split second of memory was grief, so you curled against him, running your hand along his side. Your body writhed, whining for him as he stroked your hair and back, then pulled away.

“Hey, star, it’s o—“

“Please, touch me, Buggy,” you begged as you reached for him. “I need you so much, I need you…” 

Pathetic grief poured back in at the memory of what you’d witnessed last night, but you couldn’t fight your need for him. 

“Please, touch me.”

“Just tell me if it’s alright, okay, star," he breathed after pausing to study your face, tracing his fingers along your cheeks.

“Please,” you gasped, his lips on your neck were saving your life. Saving you from your mind. 

A touch against Mihawk’s tender bite mark brought the world back, but then Buggy was tearing you both out of your clothes, kissing down your arms, your chest, your stomach. Kissing every inch of your skin until you were crying with need instead of pain. 

Begging, begging for more. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll take care of you, star.”

“Bug—“

Breathy, desperate moans left your throat as his fingers plunged deep inside you, and he swallowed the rest of your sounds in a wild kiss. His tongue was eating, tasting, and you almost laughed into his mouth at the memory of scotch, until his free hand found your clit. 

The fingers inside you were perfect, knowing exactly what you needed. Finding that spot, giving you steady touches that built in pressure and speed until you were clenching around his fingers, body shaking with pleasure and gratitude. 

“So beautiful,” Buggy praised, his voice full of a quiet awe as he smiled down at you. “You okay, baby?”

“Fuck me, Buggy,” you pleaded as your weak arms failed to pull him closer. “I need you inside me. Need to feel you.”

His eyes were wide, concerned, but he smiled when he kissed you. 

Smiled when he gave you everything you needed. 

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

How?

How can she be real?

How can she want me this much?

Want me after everything…

Buggy pushed those thoughts aside as he smoothed his ungloved hands down her body. 

Hands that he felt safe letting her touch. Just like his bare face that he could let her see. 

He let out his own soft, needy noise as he watched her writhe and squirm, begging for him to touch her.

“Fuck,” he hissed, just the touch of her perfect, dripping pussy against his sensitive tip was too much. Too much as he lined himself up.

“Look at me, Buggy,” Y/N cried out, her watery eyes swallowing him whole, just as he sank his cock deeper and deeper. He couldn’t hold in his moans at the pure fucking bliss that she held inside her, that she let him feel. 

“Look at me, please.”

Buggy kept his eyes on hers, her request setting off alarm bells in his mind that he had to shut down, throw out. 

She wants to look at me like this. She wants to see my face. There’s only one per—

“Buggy! I’m close, please,” she panicked, reaching up into his hair, pulling gently as her breathing went ragged. “Need to feel you, want you so bad.”

“I want you too, star, I’m right— oh gods, baby. Fuck, you feel soo good…”

Y/N screamed his name.

His name. 

Over and over while he shoved his cock as far as he could go, claiming that sweet, warm pleasure she let him take. 

Y/N pulled him in, her body made to take his come, made to milk him, to drain him, to let him fuck it back into her while she babbled, while her eyes crossed, while that cute little tongue hung out of her perfect lips.

All for him. 

Still sunk deep inside her, Buggy soothed and calmed her frantic noises, kissing her temple.

“I love you so much. My shining star.”

What a feeling to say those words. What a feeling to mean them. To have someone to say them to. 

“I love you, Buggy. I love you so much.”

What a feeling.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: I've been so nervous to add anything new to this world. I hope you don't mind some back story. And some Buggy time 😭😭😭

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak

Part 20

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[hellothisisangle]

Your art reminds me of retro shoujo manga in the best possible way. There is just something about your fashion sense and your line work that gives it these absolutely impeccable vibes.

I just want to study your art under a microscope because its so incredibly pleasing to look at. I rarely ever do art studies but I've literally not been doing anything else for days since I found your account and I'm having a blast.

Also Cae hot.

Ty! ❤️❤️❤️

I’m sure everything I do is influenced by the fact that I read manga since I was kid- all types/genres as long as the characters are lovable. Someone that I recommend, and whose style I look up to, is Irie Aki. Her line work is surreal and seems like it’s moving with how fluid it is.

I’ve also always been into fashion. I believe at one point when I was young I figured I would go to higher education for designing clothes, but chalk that up to the many things I *thought* I would accomplish. In college I took quite a few different general art classes and got taught realism from life studies. Although I default to the cartoony style that I normally put out- it’s funner and faster for me

This is very very rough, but here we go:

I saw this dress recently and saved it to my camera roll for later. So I see this, and yes it’s gorgeous, but I don’t love the neckline. I prefer high neck collars. I change it, but then the silhouette is kind of lacking up top, and more layers are added. Now it’s Spanish looking. I lean into that, putting more pleats into the ruffles than the original dress has. Then when coloring, I tend to see where the dark tones are going to go first (same with lineart- the shadows are the blacks). Grabbing the darkest color from the original, use that as a base. I also want it more saturated because why not. So bright red where the light hits, and something on the same side of the spectrum for the shadow. Shadows are desaturated. Add additional colors by feeling it out. If I was going to add a background or second character I would color balance them together so it’s harmonious in the end. Nothing is strict though, it all depends on what lighting you’re going for

The end result is pretty different from the reference and that’s typically how things go! I think experimentation and understanding your own likes+dislikes is really important! It’s what has propelled myself forward in the most impactful way

*I said it in a previous ask, but having a subject that drives you to keep creating helps a shit ton too. I’m the president of Cae’s fan club, you guys can’t beat me, don’t even try

[momentomori24]

I swear to God, Twitter being able to accumulate so many brain-dead, malicious, pseudo intellectual low lives all in one place at the same time is a phenomenon worthy of being studied under a microscope in a science lab. And no, that is not a compliment.

Thankfully people have already spoken out against this bullshit-- the fact that people needed to is already maddening to think about-- but as someone who got the basic gist of what happened literally yesterday I'll also put my voice out there: Don't you fucking dare try to paint Hbomb as a murderer over this situation.

Somerton may be a lying, misogynistic plagiarist and conman, but he obviously doesn't deserve to die and while I do make fun of the guy, I genuinely hope that he continues to have a life after the dust has settled on everything. Not on YouTube or any social media platform for a long time at least, but just a life nontheless. I don't wish what he's potentially going through on anyone, and I hope that he makes it through this. But regardless of if he does or doesn't-- and God forbid he doesn't-- none of this is Hbomb's fault. It's not his fault, or Kat's fault, or Jessie's fault (because apparently there's people blaming her too cuz WHY NOT), or anybody's fault. All they did was call out his actions, hold him accountable for the harm he's done. They have done nothing to deserve having to carry this on their shoulders should the worst happen. They did nothing wrong. They didn't kill James (he's not confirmed dead yet either btw). They are not murderers. And to the people saying they are: say those words out loud, listen how they sound like, and re-evaluate. Just cease.

And to people like this:

''Oh I'm not blaming him for anything I'm just blaming him for what his audience did because according to HIM you're responsible for your audience'' Yeah, you people can shut your mouths too. Of course you're responsible for your audience, and that includes Hbomb too. However, your tiny, godless little monkey brain can't see why your argument is still rubbish even with that in mind. The difference between James, Internet Historian and Hbomb is that Hbomb never promoted problematic behaviour to his audience. If you promote problematic shit like harassment or misogyny or racism, then yeah, you're absolutely responsible for how your behaviour influences your audience. But that's not what he did. He made it very clear where he stood on those things, literally stating that ''if anyone were to harass Somerton on his behalf they are worse than him and will not see the light of heaven''. He's done his part in making it clear that harassment is wrong, so if someone went out of their way to go against that and harass James anyway that doesn't reflecf on him at all. Also, what the hell do you mean ''hatemobbed'' to suicide? I don't doubt there are people who went to extremes because those bad apples always exist, but most of the things I've seen are valid critisisms, memes and call outs about that guy. If holding people accountable for their actions and poking fun at them a little counts as 'hatemobbing'' (which has Filip calling his critics a ''lynch mob'' energy tbh) what the hell do you call actual hatemobbing then? Do we just let people continue being shitty because calling them out ''damages their mental health'' or ''drives them to suicide'' then? Is that a world you want to live in?

Same thing goes for people like this:

Criticing someone for their objectively bullshit content and wanting them dead are two seperate things. What the actual hell is wrong with you. The plagiarist in question is a person. Those ''harshest critics'' are still people. And because we're people, we care. I'd rather James pump out more plagiarised slop than commit suicide. I'd still hate him for it, but I'd prefer him being alive over the alternative any day. We all do. None of us would sleep easier knowing he's dead just because he wouldn't be ''committing the cardinal sin of putting out a 'pure content mill' video'' because someone taking their own life is horrific-- especially Hbomberguy, how dare you even try to imply that?

And this gets me to the reason I'm furiously typing all this out in the first place: Hbomb is the fucking victim here, so stop treating him like he isn't. He tried making things as right as possible by compensating those that were burned by James through a video where he revealed everything there needs to be known about the guy so that less people fall victim to his actions and lies. To just ignore the harm James was causing while he had the evidence to prove it and platform too big to threaten into non existence should he speak out would've been bad. So he didn't. He did the right thing by sticking with the people James had stolen from, giving them a voice and making them known after they've been scrubbed from the picture by decidedly being uncredited for their works or bullied into silence. He shouldn't have to deal with this for doing the right thing. He shouldn't be labelled a murderer for doing the right thing. He shouldn't have to have the death of a man on his conscience for doing the right thing. People claiming otherwise are obviously wrong, but I can't imagine what all this must feel like right now. Because even tho they're wrong, guilt isn't a rational thing, and I know that if I were in his position I'd still feel like a morally bankrupt individual were the worst to happen even if I knew that it was not my fault. This isn't a funny story. So to add to this dumpsterfire by using it as a prop to bash on a creator you don't like and immediately write Somerton off as dead even when he's not even been confirmed dead yet to do that shows how little these people actually care about the thing they're talking about. They don't care a guy potentially killed himself-- what they care about is using it to paint Hbomb in a bad light because they don't like him. Here they are, posting memes and ill jokes about this very delicate situation while barely a day since the news broke out had passed. It's opportunistic, it's sickening, and literally the exact thing he criticised in his video when talking about 'content mills'. Like, I know none of these clowns bothered to actually watch it, but have some self-awareness. And some shame too, while you're at it.

This long story short: I'm writing this to contribute to the narrative not getting twisted to make Hbomb out to be the villian. Same goes for everyone else. Don't let these people paint them as the villians. If I see another person pull this shit again I will literally bite you and shred you into salad and spit you back out because I hate you so much and I mean that wholeheartedly.

To Hbomb: you will never see this but if you do, take care of yourself.

To the asshats this post is about: Delete your account. Cease all together. Stop talking about this. Just leave him the fuck alone.

[evilminji]

As I have recently discussed, with the ESTEEMED Quirk Scholar @mayfay !

Suprise Quirk Accident Babies! Gotta love um!

They're the, ironically enough, love child of "suprise child acquisition" and "suddenly pregnant" troupes! But SPEEDRUN! Because THAT IS A TODDLER/BABY! Right here. Right now!

Just?

POOF!

✨️~BABY~✨️

And now YOU! Yes, YOU! Get to deal with it. All those vague "do I want to be a parent someday? Would it be SAFE? I am READY?" Questions AND MORE! Suddenly NOT SO VAGUE.

Suddenly VERY RELAVENT. Immediate. People are asking you questions you are GOING to need to answer. And?

You are not the only parent.

You might be JUST out of fucking high-school. Staring down a top lister, high 20, maybe TOP TEN, Hero. Who is society gonna choose here? Your barely adult ass... or them? You might never see your kid again if they decide to take them. Decide to be an asshole.

They have enemies, too.

Can... can you HANDLE those enemies? To protect your kid?

It's been less then fifteen minutes. Fight has barely ended and your sitting under a shock blanket. Decisions are going to have to be made. And all you can think is the sound of your own panicked screaming. Static white noise. The reporters and shady Goverment officials already circling like sharks. Gotta make a decision. Gotta make a decision. Gotta....

It is? The BEST.

The more unlikely the combos the better! My asexual ass is thriving! Fuck yeah! Free baby, no sex!!! You can have platonic child rearing shenanigans! Interesting Self Insert Setups! New OCs! Character dramas! Or romance, if your into that sorta thing!

But you know what I think would be funny as hell?

The continued bloodline curse of AfO being so Platonicly Yandere at his own kin that they go Rabidly Feral Wet Cat and try to claw his throat out, bare minimum! Because obviously HE isn't the problem here! No, no, it's everyone ELSE that caused the issues last time! He doesn't have to learn from past mistakes! He's perfect! (Spoken by the world's most delusional man)

He ALSO has lost track of how many minor quirks he has shoved in metaphorical pockets at the moment. As he is, as always, a kleptomaniac. The way the react to each other? Cascade and shift? React to OTHER outside quirks?

Ha! He's never fucking studied that. Why would he study that!? He has power to steal.

So... set the scene~

Toshinori v. Afo: Kamino Ward.

Make the changes you please, add or subtract Heros, but the BIG TWO are there. They clash. Like Titans. Like GODS. AfO getting frisky with his quirk use, throwing everything at the wall. But?

Oh. This time. THIS TIME, you bastard! Toshinori is NOT ALONE!

The power of community, of an ARMY, is not to be underestimated. They make be struggling. Have broken bones and worse. But they know he just... just needs ONE shot! They... they can give him one shot.

Even if it's the last thing they ever do.

Because? They are god damned HEROES.

AfO feels his legs rip out from under him, just as he's about to dodge. It's going to be a killshot. He may... potentially... THEORETICALLY... conceivably... possibly... panic... just a bit. MAYBE. A microscopic amount.

He lashes out.

With everything.

And he DOES mean everything. Yes, including that "grow flowers" and the "summon apples towards you"Quirk, for all the good THOSE would have done.

Something? Happens.

The blast hits the Oaf infront of him... and? Resonates. Like the striking of a great clear bell. It RINGS. Deafening. Without noise. The damn brat...rewinds? No. He's not younger. He RESETS! OH YOU MOTHER FU-!

Something sliding off him. Like dust. From the reset. Drifting towards other dust.

Swirling. Some merging, like planets forming. Most not enough. Turning grey and falling to the ground. But... but he can SEE it. A whisp of white hair gets in the way. HIS hair. Ha. Ha ha hA HA HA HA HA!!! Reset! NOT JUST YOU, ALL MIGHT!

The heroes are getting up. It doesn't matter. He'll just put them BACK on the ground.

INTO it this time.

But then?

The dust from him, all might, so many others. Solidifies, compresses, the pops like a firework. Dumping a very started black hair, blue eyed, toddler on the ground.

AfO connects the dots first. He has AfO hair texture. Quirk weirdness just happened and their is ALWAYS a cost or drawback to Quirks. Such as... any overflow creates an infant? Did he just make his own child?

Not risking it.

He lunges.

All Might lunges for the simple reason of "oh GOD SUPERVILLIAN AND A BABY!" D:> same as every other hero there.

Meanwhile DANNY? Retired Halfa Superhero, Zone Councilman, and LATE to his DnD night... is beginning to suspect THIS is what Clockwork meant when he said "some roads take longer to get home".

Was that that a "Lol good luck buddy"!?

@mutable-manifestation @babbling-babull @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @hdgnj

[originalaccountname]

In your Murase Lives ADA!Chuuya AU, Dazai still joins the ADA eventually right? After he loses both Ango and Oda (like how Chuuya left when he only had Dazai left, but Dazai seemed to be better with his new friends).

How do they react to that? Does Chuuya help Dazai join? Do they acknowledge that they knew each other before (well, I feel everyone could tell)? Is Chuuya happy he left? Or is he mixed about them working together again? Is Dazai feeling mixed up because Chuuya left him (but now after Odasaku he understands it better)?

I was trying to think of this had been mentioned in your comics on them but I didn’t think it’d been mentioned except in the intervening years Dazai had to deal with Mori’s complaining about Chuuya’s defection.

I talked about it a little bit in this post:

If Oda dies the same way… it’s a fun question. Dazai would leave, Dazai would still refuse to work for the government, so his options are limited. I can’t imagine Chuuya leaving at 16, join the ADA, and the mafia not knowing a thing about it? So what would Dazai do? Chuuya left and joined a group and now that group is his only option in Yokohama. If he wants to join them, he’ll still have to wait two years for his records to be erased and hidden. And he knows Chuuya is gonna be there, and he knows him!! How frustrating and stressful is that wait going to be? I’d like Chuuya to be gone when Dazai first joins, so Entrance Exam can still take place in a similar way. Maybe he accompanied Ranpo on his contract out of town? I do wonder if he’d confront Dazai publicly or in private… I’m still not sure how much he told the ADA about his own origins.

To expand on that, Entrance Exam the novel is quite different from the anime. Ranpo is on an investigation in Kyushu until the finale of Kunikida and Dazai's investigation to find and stop the Azure Messenger/Apostle. Ranpo shows up in person in time to deduce where the bomb was located (and Dazai tests his "ability" by pinching his hair at this moment). It's a key moment for Dazai because it's the moment he decides the ADA is the real deal and they just might be what he's looking for (this exam went both ways).

oh no this is gonna be long and turn into an improvised analysis of Entrance Exam

So, that's the thing: Dazai was very much testing the ADA for the entirety of his entrance exam. He was figuring out clues and coming to conclusions much faster than Kunikida was, but he wouldn't tell him outright: he was artfully slipping half-clues into his conversations with Kunikida to see if he would pick up on them. And he did! Which made him a good potential partner! Because Dazai didn't expect the ADA to be on his level, but wanted them to be able to work with him. And then there was Ranpo who very much was on his level and Dazai fanboy'd about it.

so. my AU.

It's funny, since Dazai joins at 20, and Chuuya left at 16 (almost 17), that they still get their 4-year gap. Except! this time the roles are reversed and Chuuya wasn't quite concerned about hiding (that's a whole other subject). I can't imagine Dazai watching Chuuya "betray" (leave) the PM on his own without consequences only to join some do-gooders not too long after and not get curious. Wanting to study him under a microscope and all.

So Dazai would have some knowledge from observing the ADA and Chuuya from a distance. Basic stuff like what they do and roughly who works there. I would expect canon Dazai to have had similar knowledge before his entrance exam, but who knows.

There was probably something reassuring in Chuuya seemingly having found a place in the light after everything he went through. But it would also a good excuse for comparison and self-depreciation. Fortunately, Dazai is motivated by Oda's words and a never-ending need to one-up Chuuya. Imagine the embarrassment if he gave up on his best chance of helping people because he was afraid of facing Chuuya.

Now, Let's say Chuuya was accompanying Ranpo on that investigation out of town. When they get back, it's to a crisis, and a Dazai who has been there for a while.

Ranpo was the one to figure out Chuuya's past in this AU, he knows about his (short) time in the mafia, but Dazai and his ability were a well-kept secret of the PM. Chuuya wouldn't spoil that: he didn't leave out of hatred for the mafia, he left out of grief and because he had that opportunity. It would probably take Ranpo 3 seconds to connect the missing dots once Dazai is revealed: singularity -> can't stop it -> has been used 3 times -> still alive -> something to stop him -> nullification -> Dazai.

Everything hinges on Ranpo and what he knows of this new recruit before meeting him: Fukuzawa and Kunikida are suspicious of Dazai being sent to infiltrate them, Fukuzawa is willing to kill Dazai over these suspicions, Chuuya would recognize Dazai instantly and also get suspicious and, depending on his reaction, seal his fate.

FORTUNATELY we know Fukuzawa talked to Ranpo beforehand and canonically Ranpo took one good look at Dazai and decided he was fine. So I say Ranpo kept Chuuya distracted for the rest of that day. Kunikida still fake-shot Dazai, they still got the airplane back up (hush about Chuuya who could have caught it), Dazai still made an excellent impression on Kunikida, and everything went as smoothly.

Which would bring their confrontation to afterwards. The big finale with Sasaki happens a few days later, but Dazai vanishes during that time, presumably to investigate and corner her. That does leave us with the perfect opportunity for Dazai and Chuuya to cross paths (Chuuya would have heard Dazai's name at some point) and confront each other. I did mention Chuuya had a bit of a dark justice/vigilantism phase during his time with Murase before the ADA, and Dazai's objective at that moment is to bring an end to Sasaki by his own means, as the justice system would never be able to reach her, so... 🤝

Another fun thing about Entrance Exam is that Kunikida is always just on the verge of figuring out what Dazai's deal is, but Dazai keeps being stupid and annoying exactly during those moments, so Kunikida throws his doubts out the window along with Dazai every time.

In short, Ranpo would know Dazai and Chuuya used to know each other, skk would have their confrontation in private and shake hands over doing what the system can't handle, and Fukuzawa and Yosano might be able to connect the dots themselves after a while of watching them, but keep it silent.

Our beloved Kunikida came in too late to know Chuuya's backstory and had a similar instant annoyance and teamwork chemistry with Dazai that Chuuya seems to be also experiencing, so to him this is just Dazai weirdness. Any subsequent addition to the ADA would have no reason to question them.

[shunin-gumis]

Designs of Happiness - Track A17

L4mps Main Story Translation

Title: The Hakodate Chase

Characters: Netaro, Toi, Yodaka, Nagi, Ryui

Summary: At the burger joint, Toi displays his divination prowess to the group to decide on their next destination.

Thank you aca @463ce6, myun @/myuntachis and Niri @/Niri_riri for helping me with proofing!

Location: Hakodate - Lucky Pierrot

Momiji: You ordered a crazy number of burgers there, Netaro-kun. Are you sure you can eat them all?

Netaro: *mouth full* Not to worry, these will be gone in a jiffy.

Toi: Ah~ That sure was delicious! My stomach’s close to bursting now!

Nagi: (Dipping the last of the fries into the sauce for that delicious last bite—)

Netaro: Gii, aah~

Nagi: (Huh? Is “Gii” supposed to be me…?)

Netaro: Aaah~

Nagi: …Here.

Netaro: Nom! Mm, scrumptious~!

Momiji: (Netaro-kun had a lot of fries left on his plate, and yet…)

Nagi: This kind of interaction makes it feel like we’re a family… 

Momiji: (Nagi-kun seems to be happy about it, so I guess it’s fine…)

Momiji: Alright then, let’s decide where we should head next.

Netaro: Toi, it’s time to use that divination of yours! I want to see your secret power with my own two eyes.

Toi: I left my divination tools back at the inn, so I can only show you something simple… 

Netaro: Nooooo… That’s not the same…

Momiji: I’m surprised that you can do it without your tools though. I thought crystal balls or tarot cards were absolutely necessary for fortune-telling… 

Nagi: Me too.

Toi: In my case, I’m able to do a reading as long as I can receive an answer in whatever shape or form. I don’t really need any kind of official method for it.

Toi: There’s no one right way to do a reading in the first place. It’s just that there’s a lot of people who need to borrow power from a crystal ball or tarot cards. 

Nagi: So you can do a reading regardless of the method… You sure have an amazing power, Toi. 

Toi: Hehe! It’s just something that’s been passed down, so I have my ancestors to thank…!

Toi: Then, I’ll try asking the water this time.

Netaro: The water~?

Toi: Let’s see, first I do this… 

Momiji: (Oh, he’s collecting a bit of water from the cup onto the straw…)

Toi: Forgive me for being a little messy… There!

Momiji: (Now he’s splashed the droplets onto the tray…)

Toi: …… 

Nagi: (Is he… observing the shape of the water?)

Nagi: (It seems unbelievable, but if it really works…)

Netaro: Aw phooey, I wanted to study Toi’s secret power! I would like to take him apart piece by piece and put him under a microscope!

Momiji: Netaro-kun, he’s trying to focus so let’s stay quiet, okay?

Netaro: Then, in exchange for my silence, is it alright if I request Toi for a divination at his full power when we return to HAMA?

Nagi: Ah… M-Me too— 

Momiji: This isn’t something you should treat lightly.

Nagi: Oh……… 

Netaro: Hmph~

Location: Hakodate - Near the Kanemori Brick Warehouse

Yodaka: I’ll take the shot now, say cheese! 

Tourist A: Thank you so much~ Sorry for springing that on you all of a sudden.

Tourist B: You even carried all our bags for us… You’re such a lifesaver! 

Yodaka: If I made your trip even a little more pleasant, that is all I could ask for. I hope you enjoy your time at Hakodate.

Tourist B: …! U-Um… 

Tourist B: If it’s alright with you, would you like to join us for—

??: …Tch, that hurt. Watch where you’re walking, old man!

Yodaka: My apologies. I was far too absorbed in my conversation with these lovely ladies. Are you hurt anywhere, young boy?

??: What? I better have heard that wrong, because you did NOT just call me a kid.  

Tourist A: What’s your problem? You’re the one who bumped into him! There’s no reason for you to apologize to this brat.

Tourist B: That’s right! Just ignore him.

Yodaka: Oh dear, you needn’t be so forceful with me. Please don’t worry, I wouldn’t even dream of leaving your side.

??: Oi. 

Tourist A: What now!

??: You dropped something there. Looks like a scrap of paper.

Yodaka: Ah, pardon me. Thank you for pointing that out, this is an important flier you see… 

Yodaka: …… 

Yodaka: Would you mind sharing your name?

??: You don’t need to thank me— 

Toi: Ani-sama!?

??: —Wha!?

Momiji: Huh, that’s Yodaka-san and…? 

Yodaka: Hello there. I see you’ve all just had your lunch.

Nagi: Crazy. We found him the moment we left the restaurant. 

Netaro: So this is the power of divination! 

Toi: So this is where you were, Ani-sama! I’ve been searching for you all this time…!

Ryui: Toi…!

Yodaka: As I thought… The portrait may not have been an exact match, but it’s clear as day that you’re twins. 

Ryui: Dammit, we’re not supposed to meet yet, not like this…!

*Ryui runs off*

Toi: W-Why are you running!?

Momiji: So that’s Ryui-kun… He has a completely different vibe from Toi-kun, but it’s true their faces are quite similar… Wait, now’s not the time for that! Please, wait…! 

Netaro: Eureka! I just had a brilliant idea: It would be far more fun if I made clones of them!

Nagi: Do we chase after them?

Momiji: Yes! …Huh?

Tourist C: What the heck! Why’re there no taxis around? My feet huuuurt!

Tourist D: Kazuo! Where are you! Oh, where could he have gone off to now…!

Tourist E: How are we supposed to get to Mount Hakodate from here? We’ve been, like, walking in circles for ages now! 

Momiji: Ugh…!

Momiji: (There seems to be a lot of troubled tourists around here…!)

Momiji: Now’s not really the time, but I just can’t pretend I don’t see them… Everyone, please give me a moment of your time!

~~~(Hospitality Battle)

Momiji: *panting* Ok, that’s dealt with…!

Momiji: Yodaka-san, please chase after him! 

Yodaka: Alright, leave it to me. I could never say no to your request.

Yodaka: And that’s how it is. Forgive me, but looks like this is where we part ways.

Tourist A: Whaat, no way…!

Yodaka: Please, don’t look so down. You should always smile while traveling. I’m sure that this moment, too, will one day be a memory you look back on fondly. 

Yodaka: I should return your precious belongings now. Who does this paper bag belong to?

Tourist B: That one’s mine! Thank you so much for carrying it for me!

Yodaka: Oh my, looks like you’ve got some pastries in here. This must be handled delicately… Here you go. 

Tourist A: Thank you so much! You were a huge help.

Yodaka: You’re welcome. See, a smile suits you much better after all.

Momiji: So damn slow! 

Nagi: As expected of the man who never lets anything fluster him. But he’s useless now. Let’s leave him behind. 

*Nagi runs off*

Toi: Oh no! Ani-sama is getting away!! Someone, please stop that handsome punk!

*Toi follows*

Momiji: Ah, Manager!

Daniel: Ugh, what now? You guys playing tourism tag or somethin’?

Momiji: We found Ryui-kun! Please help us catch him!

Netaro: There is no time better than now to show off what those muscles of yours are worth!

Daniel: These muscles aren’t made for a marathon, geez… 

~~~

Netaro: Woa-hoh!

Nagi: !

Toi: Netaro-san tripped and fell!

Netaro: I’ve yet to familiarize myself with the length of these limbs… 

Momiji: Toi-kun, we can’t stop now, keep running! Sorry Netaro-kun, we’ll come find you later!

Toi: I’m so sorryyyyyyyy~!

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[mamadarama]

what are your thoughts on Rinne and Shu. not romantically (ik you hc Shu as aroace and i do too to a point! but i think it makes ot even funnier.) i think Shu should be allowed to hit Rinne with a baseball bat really hard. i think that if i locked them in a room together both would die.

THEYRE SOOOO FUNNY shu is a magnet for crazy unpredictable bitches and it cracks me up cuz thats the last kind of person hed choose to be friends with . when rinne first saw shu im positive he thought to himself "oh yeah this guy is a fucking egghead i need to study him under a microscope" and proceeded to be the most annoying constant in shus life since . cuz like that is what hes doing, hes messing with him to see what happens. hes testing how far he can push the envelope before shu whacks him with a thick book. which shu should absolutely do because it would be so so so funny. or a baseball bat like you said . rinne and shu are like when youre a kid and you find a click beetle and spend half an hour poking it and watching it do the clicky bouncy thing (or whatever weird bug with an entertaining defensive mechanism you have where youre from)

if you locked them in a room together someone would definitely die but i dunno if it would be both of them . im thinking it would just be rinne cuz he would just continue doing his weird annoying thing he always does and shu would try and stay calm as usual but then shu would lose his mind all at once and kill rinne in one fell swoop