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haeryna · 9 months

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thinking about idol!gojo and rockstar!geto (tw: mentions of underage drinking, implied abandonment, implied homophobia from gojo's parents, vague mentions of illness)

how you three, along with shoko, lived in the same ratty small town in the middle of nowhere. you'd moved when you were six, all shy and scared of the house your parents had moved to in order to help your sick grandmother that you barely remembered because the last time you'd seen her was when you were four. you were from the city; you'd never seen fireflies, or grass that stretched out as far as your eyes could see, and so when you saw the first firefly appear just as the sky turned to dusk, how were you supposed to resist it?

so you chased it down to the creek, all smiles and filled with excitement, until you realized it was dark, and you were in the forest, and you were scared. you couldn't help but start to cry, and that's where geto found you.

"are you lost?"

sniffling, you peered up at the dark haired boy, whose soft brown eyes filled with a sort of concern. "y-yeah," you hiccupped, and geto offers up a gentle smile. "it's okay, i know the way back."

and so, you'd taken his hand, let him tug you out of the creek bed, and lead you back toward the house that still didn't quite feel like home. you'd learn, his name was suguru. suguru geto, and wherever suguru geto was, satoru gojo was never too far behind (although you didn't know that, yet).

"you crying?"

you'd let out a startled yelp, still clinging to suguru's hand, twisting to look at the other boy who was staring at you with unrestrained curiosity. even at the age of six, you found him beautiful, with the piercing blue of his eyes, and the soft white down of his hair, even as he mocked you. satoru hadn't known how else to express the sort of silent jealousy that had torn its way through his chest once he saw you holding suguru's hand.

the two of you bickered, all the way back until they left you at your front door, much to suguru's displeasure. yet satoru was beaming; nobody but suguru and shoko dared to speak to him that way. he was too young to understand the way his heart seemed to churn every moment he saw you after .

later, you would meet shoko ieiri, who instantly took a liking to you, defending you with the stubbornness of an older sister you never had.

later, you would realize just how beautiful suguru and satoru were, as they grew. you were the one who pierced suguru's ears (a decision made at 1am in his basement), who bought satoru his first eyeshadow palette (his parents would have died if they'd ever see him use it). and it was eventually you who brought them into music, as you stared up at the ceiling of suguru's basement. the lights grew hazy as you blinked up at them, empty bottles of stolen beer surround you. suguru and shoko were busy smoking a pack of (also stolen) cigarettes, and satoru was on his phone.

"what if we like. made a band?"

you were only 16, and dreamed of leaving the small town you'd moved to. the temporary stay had turned permanent after your grandmother had inevitably passed. shoko immediately snorted. "i love you, but i can't sing for shit."

but you were persistent. you thrifted an old guitar that you gave to suguru as a birthday present, encouraged satoru's angelic singing.

you should have known they would outgrow you.

you're 21 now, still living in the old house, taking care of your parents. the dreams you'd had years ago turned into ash in your mouth. even shoko had left, off to pursue medical school.

you can't stomach looking at the news anymore. satoru has broken into the idol industry, creating equal amounts of chart toppers and scandals. an idol like that only comes once every one hundred years, they say. with the way he moves, the way he acts, you're inclined to believe it.

(when you watch him for the first time, on some variety show, you see him, see the way they've done his makeup, and you're brought back to sitting on the couch, telling him to stop moving or he'll mess up the eyeshadow you attempting to apply. you wonder if his parents were furious at the decision. you wonder where the eyeshadow palette you gave him went. did he take it with him before he left for good? bile rises heavy in your throat, and you shut off the television, unable to stomach it any longer.)

the radio is equally as traitorous. you know suguru has been dominating the indie charts, to the point where it's simply suguru and satoru competing against each other. you hate how whenever you go to the local bakery, you can hear his voice again playing through the speakers. hate how when you make the long drive to pick up your parents' medicine, how you can hear him through your car's speakers. it feels intimate in a way that you cannot bear.

(still, you hear the guitar and remember the look in his eyes when you gifted him the one you'd found in the thrift store. suguru had treated it reverently, telling you with an earnest sort of smile that, "the first song i write will be for you." he's traded out acoustics for rock. he has no need for that guitar anymore, you think absentmindedly. just like he no longer needed you.)

but what you don't know is that every time satoru's makeup artist gets to his eyes, he has to keep them firmly shut or else he'd burst into tears. she didn't do it like you. she never would. every time he steps onto the stage, he looks for you, though he knows he'll never find you. it never stops him from looking. how he sings his heart out in the hopes you'll hear him, unaware that despite his popularity, you avoid his music like it's deadly.

what you don't know is that every time suguru writes, he realizes how he lied to you. "the first song i'll write will be for you," he remembers, and yet now every song he writes is about you. now, girls he doesn't even know, screams his name, screams along to his songs that he wrote for you. they pretend that they're the girl who was left behind, the girl that he's never stopped loving.

(he'll never forget the way your hand fit into his, how even at the age of six he knew that you were the only one who ever had his heart along with satoru)

how on days he misses you particularly badly, the piercings you'd given him burns. he writes his love into his music, the music that you shut off every time you hear it come on the radio.

it changes nothing, if they come back, you tell yourself. suguru and satoru have each other. they don't need you.

but one day they do come back, come back for you, and it changes everything.

#haerinwrites #satosugu x reader #suguru geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk angst #jjk x reader #satosugu #suguru x reader #geto x reader #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #you cannot tell me gojo would not be a kpop idol he is so bbygirl #i need indie singer geto so bad. not want. need.

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intoaneverythingbagel · 3 months

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the tragedy of war torn veterans and it's correlation to my hero academia

I think the conversation revolving izuku midoriya, and how he's been treated since the war ended is very, very interesting. The general consensus being that it's genuinely insane the mistreatment he's faced only a bit after the wars ending. He's a hero. He was beaten, bruised, mutilated and traumatized on live television for the entire world to see. And has received zero acclaim.

Most people are saying that it's genuinely fucked up, and yeah, I agree, it totally is. I mean, a 16 year old boy had to step up because a bunch of adults couldn't hold their own, saving the entire world, all while simultaneously losing himself and his quirk. He gave up his dreams, his sanity, and almost his life for peace; and yet he gets to relish in none of that. None of the fame, the acclaim that comes with heroism. Nothing.

Some have said that they find it to be unrealistic- "he saved the world, of course he's famous!- horikoshi is just bad at writing!" And yeah, he should be, but I don't think that horikoshi is bad at writing or that him getting acclaim is just something that isnt being shown. Horikoshi knows how to write fame, how to write stardom, we see it with hawks and Merko and most definitely all might. We even see it in the newest leaks (427) where bakugo and todoroki have fans- the new first years.

So why then? If horikoshi can write, and he knows how to portray fame, then why is izuku facing neglect? Well, as we know, mha has always been a show about how people with disabilities are treated. (I will go further into dept on this in a future post, probably today or tomorrow) being quirkless is seen as being less abled then others= disabled, and now that izuku has lost his quirk, he is back at square one- being disabled. Not to mention the physical strain the injuries he has faced leave him with. He will face life long repercussions from those injuries. He is literally a disabled veteran. And for a lot of disabled veterans, the reality of the situation is that you don't always get to be a war hero after all is said and done. You don't get the fame you deserve, or the acclaim, or the help you need! or any of that because no one wants to hear about the gory, sad, disgustingly depressing side of battle. They want the glamour, the starlight and shine.

They want the miracles, and izuku is no longer a miracle.

I think what horikoshi is trying to portray is that things really dont go back to normal right after the war ends, peoples hearts and minds aren't all immediately changed, and the mindset that has been pushed for decades about quirklesness and it's abled-bodyness will not disappear just because the hero was once quirkless, because at the end of it (at least in their minds) they were right, someone who is quirkless could never truly be strong.

So, my consensus on this debate is that horikoshi is trying to portray how a lot of veterans end up after battle. It isnt some glorifying, amazing thing. It's not this heroic adventure. It's war, and it's after and disgusting and horrific and so so scary and it kills people, and it's usually the real heroes who end up the most fucked. A commentary on how veterans are often discarded once not needed anymore. Shits deep.

#katsuki bakugou #bkdk #mha #mha spoilers #mha chapter 424 #mha chapter 419 #Mha chapter 427 #izuku midoriya #Izuku midoriya character study #character study #class 1a #war is hell #A commentary of peace #Izuku midoriya you will always be famous #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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undying-love · 1 month

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John and Paul on each other: A Compilation

John:

"He [Paul] looked like Elvis. I dug him."

"I'm like everyone else, Harry. I fell for Paul's looks."

"..an old, estranged fiancée of mine called Paul."

"Paul...you're so well-built." (X)

"Groups like this are normally not friends. They’re just four people out there thrown together to make an act. There may be two of them who sort of go off and are friends, you know...Strictly platonic of course."

"Oh, I've had him, he's no good."

"I was riding on a boat called Paul, and now I'm riding on a boat called Yoko."

"I've compared to a marriage a million times and I hope it's… understandable. For people that aren't married. Or any relationship. It was a LONG relationship. It started many, many years before the American public, or the English public for that matter, knew us. Paul and I were together since he was 15, I was 16."

"Nobody ever said anything about Paul's having a spell on me or my having one on Paul! They never thought that was abnormal in those days, two guys together, or four guys together! Why didn't they ever say, "How come those guys don't split up? I mean, what's going on backstage? What is this Paul and John business? How can they be together so long?"

"Well, Paul had met Linda before [the Apple press conference], you see. I mean, there were quite a few women he'd obviously had that I never knew about. God knows when he was doing it, but he must have been doing it."

"I don’t even think about Paul unless somebody brings him up. Or if some song comes out or something happens, they’re in the newspaper. I don’t know why everyone doesn’t just leave him alone—I haven’t really seen him in ten years. I can talk about him forever because I know all about him, but you see, there’s nothing much to say."

[Studio chatter] Paul: I will be overpowering this time. John: Oh good. I like it when you’re brutal. (X)

Paul:

"John was really my only male friend, if only because of proximity."

"[While playing live] John was to the left or to the right of me, so I never got to sort of see him perform so much. Except in the film [Get Back]. And there he is in massive closeup. I can study everything about him.”

“I’ll just sit around and hug him forever, because that’s the depth of my feeling for him."

"And I would often sketch John when we worked together, often without him knowing it. It was so easy doing John because he had glasses, those sideboards...and that long, aquiline nose."

"When I painted him recently, I found myself saying, ‘How did his lips go?"

"I can still see John now: checked shirt, slightly curly hair…I remember thinking, ‘He looks good - I wouldn’t mind being in a group with him."

"James reminds me very much of John in many ways: he's got beautiful hands. John had beautiful hands."

"If I'm going to see a face in a painting, it's highly likely to be his."

"I still remember his beery old breath when I first met him that day. But I soon came to love that beery old breath. And I loved John."

"I’m often thinking of him. I dream of him."

"Delicious boy, delicious broth of a boy."

"John and I used to hitch-hike places together. It was something that we did together quite a lot; cementing our friendship, getting to know our feelings, our dreams, our ambitions together. It was a very wonderful period. I look back on it with great fondness. I particularly remember John and I would be squeezed in our little single bed."

"There's a song I do called Here Today which is specifically written for John. That sometimes catches me out. I realize I'm telling this man that I love him and it's like I'm publicly declaring this in front of all these people I don't know. I sometimes wonder what I'm doing."

"We are individuals— all different. John married Yoko, I married Linda. We didn’t marry the same girl.”

"Please Please Me was a John idea. John liked the double meaning of “please”. Yeah, “please” is, you know, pretty please. “Please have intercourse with me. So, pretty please, have intercourse with me, I beg you to have intercourse with me.” He liked that, and I liked that he liked that."

"[John] was a wild and woolly genius who it was my pleasure to work with, walk with, talk with and occasionally sleep with. "

Q: If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him? Paul: In bed.

"Then also [me and John] were like married, so you got the bitterness. It’s not a woman scorned this time, it’s two men scorned — probably even worse. And I had to make way for Yoko. My relationship with John could not have remained as it was and Yoko feel secure.”

"I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away."

#mclennon #megapost #beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon evidence

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haine-kleine · 2 months

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Slowly leaving the copium phase and getting genuinely curious what even was the intention behind the epilogue?

The manga could've ended with Deku punching Shigaraki into dust and nothing of value would have been lost. Why are we spending 70% of the epilogue on the society rebuilding itself back to status quo? Nothing has changed, no lesson was learned in the war against villains because they were successfully defeated. Pro heroes are alive and well, the hero kids, despite being literal war veterans at 16 years old are all still in the hero course. Now they even have their own fans.

Is it supposed to show how the hero propaganda makes child soldiers and keeps the machine running forever by glorifying the profession and demonizing the villains? Is it supposed to show the heavy burden the heroes will be carrying for the rest of their lives after getting killed the person they set out to save?

Is it supposed to be so dark and hopeless? No one won in this war, no one got what they wanted, none of the saviour trio achieved their goal of saving their villain, with two confirmed dead and one joining them soon. Even the narrative's golden boy Bakugou got his dream of competing with Deku forever taken away from him because Deku doesn't have a quirk anymore. (on that note, what Izuku is even doing in UA still when the manga has spent so much time establishing how impossible heroics are for quirkless people and not giving us even one example of a quirkless hero who did not get OFA).

Why this insistence on making both sides as miserable as possible? For a manga that started as a hopeful story about saving people, giving them hope, that sure is a choice.

Not sure what message we are supposed to take away from this other than a 'Fuck you' from the author to all of his readers.

#i understand and am very sympathetic towards the burnout and pure exhaustion he has from writing this story #but why take it out on all of the characters?#horikoshi is really beating the entire cast with sticks and throwing stones at the villains specifically #bnha epilogue is a marvelous lesson in fucking up your own story to an unbelievable degree #bnha #bnha spoilers #bnha critical

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navy-leader · 3 months

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Transition timeline of sorts

In order:

Pre-L'manberg

15-16 yrs old

just joined smp

just a bright and joyful young boy

Several wars and losing his loved ones later...

16 years old

didnt get to cut his hair in exile and generally did not take care of himself throughout, and even afterwards he struggled to do so

lost a lot of weight

Sam Nook era (pre and post-prison)

17 years old

started doing something with his hair though its mostly just to keep it out of the way while he does chores and errands

struggling to consistently take care of himself

shaves every once in a while

Las Nevadas era

Wilbur is revived

egg cracking

experiments with girl clothes and hairstyles with the help of Tubbo and Ranboo

shaves regularly

does not fully lean into being a girl but definitely lets masculinity slip off more

denial is a river in Egypt

Pre-finale

18-19 years old

slips into a depressive episode after Wilbur left

starts isolating him(?)self and gets addicted to invis potions

struggles to take care of him(?)self again

doesnt shave

doesnt wear the girl clothes or style his(?) hair in any particular way

Post-SMP

20+ years old

Dream is dead

she and Tubbo move out from the SMP bringing Michael

lives a domestic life with Tubbo and Michael and Ghostboo occasionally appears as an apparition to them

fully embraces being (somewhat) a woman

takes better care of herself and wears a lot more feminine clothing and takes good care of her hair (most times)

essentially co-parents Michael with Tubbo

#navy arts #dream smp #tommyinnit #cleminnit #addiction #depression #ctommy

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luvrinne · 27 days

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୭ SOME BOOKS THAT RORY GILMORE READ ׂ 𓈒

— 1984 by Orwell George

nineteen eighty-four by George Orwell is a dystopian novel that portrays a totalitarian society where personal freedom is non-existent. It warns against the dangers of totalitarian power, surveillance, propaganda, and thought control, in a powerful critique of modern society.

— atonement by Ian McEwan

atonement by Ian McEwan is a gripping novel that delves into the complexities of guilt, redemption, and the power of storytelling. Set in England during World War II, it follows the lives of three characters whose fates become intertwined after a tragic misunderstanding.

— the bell jar by Sylvia Plath

the bell jar details the life of Esther Greenwood, a college student who dreams of becoming a poet. She is selected for a month-long summer internship as a guest editor of Ladies' Day magazine, but her time in New York City is unfulfilling as she struggles with issues of identity and societal norms.

— christine by Stephen King

christine tells the story of a car apparently possessed by malevolent supernatural forces. A love triangle involving 17-year-old misfit Arnie Cunningham, his new girlfriend and a haunted 1958 Plymouth Fury. Dubbed Christine by her previous owner, Arnie's first car is jealous, possessive and deadly.

— the virgin suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides

the story, which is set in Grosse Pointe, Michigan during the 1970s, centers on the lives of five doomed sisters, the Lisbon girls. The novel is written in first person plural from the perspective of an anonymous group of teenage boys who struggle to find an explanation for the Lisbons' deaths.

— to kill a mockingbird by Harper Lee

to kill a mockingbird is a coming-of-age story about a girl named Scout. Scout and her brother Jem try to understand and relate to their father, Atticus, who is a lawyer charged with defending a Black man falsely accused of raping a white woman.

— sybil by Flora Rheta Schereiber

sybil is a gripping true story about a woman with multiple personality disorder. Written by Flora Rheta Schreiber, the book delves into the life of Sybil Dorsett and her 16 distinct personalities, as well as the therapy sessions with her psychiatrist, Dr. Cornelia B. Wilbur.

— pride and prejudice by Jane Austen

pride and prejudice follows the turbulent relationship between Elizabeth Bennet, the daughter of a country gentleman, and Fitzwilliam Darcy, a rich aristocratic landowner. They must overcome the titular sins of pride and prejudice in order to fall in love and marry.

@ luvrinne

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somethingstrangeishere · 3 months

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TW: leprosy

Baldwin IV with his mommy 🥺

She tries to cheer up her precious boy by doing something sweet for him.

"No, my dear, those bandages don't make you any worse! Please stop putting yourself down for how you look...Look, I made a bow for you! You're cute. I love you, Baldwin."

***

I don't know if you've ever had similar thoughts...I just felt like speaking up. Honestly, it's very hard to put my thoughts and convey what I'm feeling (I'm not a writer and also not a native English speaker), and to be completely honest, as I think about it, my heart hurts and my eyes water. So if you read this - thank you, and sorry for taking up your time. If not - well, I've eased my soul one way or another by speaking out.

***

My heart melts at the thought of a warm, understanding and trusting relationship between parents and children, and I also love the dynamics of family relationships. In this context, mother/son. I don't know, and no one knows anymore, about the relationship Baldwin had with his mother, whether they were close, but I'm not relying on historical reference, but on my interpretation and feelings.

For a good loving mother, her child is the best, the most precious, the most loved and desired. But life does not always turn to you and your child in a good way. Some people are unlucky - whether you are a king or a peasant, a sinner or a saint - fate does not care.

How does a mother feel when her son is mortally ill? Put yourself in her shoes. Just try it.

***

You hold your newborn baby in your arms. Here it is, your little bundle of joy, so tiny, so adorable... You want to give him all the best, now your whole world is him, your little angel!

Your son is growing up, taking his first steps, saying his first words. You dream about his future, you love him so much...

Time passes, you live in love and care for him. And you hope that it will always be like this - or as long as possible...

...Now forget about it.

Suddenly you are hit with devastating news - your son has leprosy. It knocks you off your feet, it chokes you, it tramples you into the ground, tears your heart to pieces. At that moment, as soon as you find out, you see nothing in front of you and hear nothing. Your mind is empty, and there is only one thought of your son, your treasure. Doomed, cursed. If there really is a God, why did he let this happen? Why your child? They say leprosy is a curse from God. Why curse an innocent child?!

Pain, despair, anguish. You want to weep, You want to grab your son, hold him close and never let go. You realise he's doomed. But he doesn't realise it yet.

As time goes on, his health gets worse. Your baby does not understand what is happening to him - he is scared, he is confused, he is waiting for your support and comfort. You smile at him, you give him everything you can - but inside your heart is pounding and tearing as if it were breaking your ribs. Every night you're choked with tears. Your son is your flesh and blood, you gave him life, you brought him into this world, you condemned him to this existence...

Time passes, you do your best, but it seems as if God himself has turned away from you. You pray to all the saints, you beg the Virgin Mary - she is a mother too, she must hear, she cannot fail to understand! But nothing changes.

Your son is growing up, and every year his condition gets worse. His skin is covered with leprosy spots. His eyesight is getting worse. He's always tired, he can't live without the help of doctors and medicines. He's rotting alive. People look askance. People judge. People see a monster. All you see is your angel. Every day you swear to love and care for him, swear you won't leave him...

***

A young 16 years old boy wins a battle. How proud you are of him! How weak his body is, but how strong his spirit. But he too has his moments of vulnerability...

...Especially when he fully realises he doesn't have long to live. He seems to accept it - or pretend to accept it...

How do you feel?

How a mother might feel when she realises that she may see her son die? Bury the one she brought into this world. To live to see that moment is something she doesn't want to do.

Thank you if you read to the end! I'm crying right now😭

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xoheisse · 10 months

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stories of children whose lives were taken by russians

1. Marharyta from Kharkiv region, 8 years old.

On June 21, cluster munitions fell in the yard of her family's house. Marharyta died instantly, her heart was pierced through. The girl's father, at the age of 36, has become completely gray. The mother cannot describe in words how she feels after losing her child.

2. Kyrylo from Kherson, 8 years old.

In April, the family evacuated from Kherson to Vinnytsia. On July 14, russia shelled the city, Kyrylo was in the car with his uncle. The boy died immediately from a fragment hitting his head, then an explosion occurred. The body was searched for several days. It was identified only through DNA analysis.

3. Daryna from Kharkiv region, 15 years old.

On March 13, a russian missile hit the family's house. When the father got to the hand of his dead daughter, he said: "Our Daryna is no more". She was buried in her native Dergachi. Mom recalls that the missiles flew over the people here and there. "Daryna, this is a farewell salute to you." said her father.

4. Polina, 8 years old.

On March 13, Polina and her mother wanted to evacuate Mariupol. As soon as they took a few steps outside, the russian military started shelling with mortars. Nadiya's mother died instantly. Both of Polina's legs and arms were broken. The girl was operated on in the city hospital. But on March 16, Polina's kidneys failed and she died. Polina was shooting videos on YouTube, dancing. She liked to change into different costumes and perform on stage.

5. Anna, 9 years old.

On March 19, an enemy shell hit near the house where Anna and her mother Yana were hiding. They went down to the basement. In the morning, slag began to fall from above. Several basement floor slabs fell on people. The mother rushed to help her daughter, but she could not pull her out from under the rubble on her own. Anya and other people remained buried in the basement. The girl liked to work with computers. Her mother promised that when Anya turned 10, she would enroll her in programming lessons. However...

6. Denys, 9 years old.

On September 3, the twins were walking in a park in Dnipropetrovs'k region. Suddenly, MLRS shells started flying. "I felt the space around me with my hand. He was at my feet. I went to him: "Danya, Danya ... ", but he was silent. Although they told me to lie down, I started crawling to my son. Ruslan was screaming next to me," the boy's mother recalls the shelling. On December 22, Denys was supposed to celebrate his birthday.

7. Oleksandr from Chernihiv, 13 years old.

On March 9, Sasha and his mother Tetyana decided to evacuate from Chernihiv. However, a shell exploded near the pedestrian column, and the boy was hit by many fragments. "He couldn't say anything, his eyes were closed, he was breathing heavily, he wheezed three times and died. He remained lying there," Sasha's mother recalls. In 2022, Sasha was an eighth grader. He was interested in the crypto market and dreamed of developing a YouTube channel for an english-speaking audience.

original post : ukraina_topnews

#ukraine #russia is a terrorist state #stand with ukraine #russiainvadedukraine #help ukraine #ukraine war #genocide #ukranian #children #war crimes #war #real story #kyiv #kherson #chernihiv #kharkiv

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legend-the-dumb-jock · 6 months

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Stephen was the above average joe. Muscular. Huge package. Standing at 6’4”. When he walked into a room people stopped and stared looking a the muscled specimen that heaved the room. And with large size 16 feet you could hear him coming too.

Stephen had a perfect life but where someone is so perfect there has to be a downfall. Stephen’s was that he always took advantage of those close to him. He was able to be so muscular and hot spending all his time in the gym and never once helping his boyfriend, Matt, pay for rent. He was a leach. Every night he would come home dripping sweat. Kick off his massive shoes leaving them where they fell. He would drop his dirty sweat clothes in the hall way and never clean after himself. Then while still dropping sweat, flop down on the couch. Staining even more than what he already has. But it was time. And his boyfriend had had enough.

While Stephen fell asleep like he always did on the couch, his boyfriend still in front of him with a menacing glance. Holding the book he had from his family he began to chant the spell to make Stephen change.

Stephen was dreaming about plowing the hot gym bunny. Bending him over the sink and thrusting himself in. And all the while began to scream while he was having sex …

“….and this vessel must change to meet this new form!” His boy friend finished reading. And then he seen the fine print,,, there had to be an agreement from the one the spell was going to effect. He began to panic. How would he get Stephen to agree to…”YES YES ! FUCK ME !!!” Matt’s mouth dropped. How could this have happened in a more perfect moment. Stepping back slowly he hid the book. Now. Watching as his boyfriend began to change.

Soon Stephen’s well defined abs began to push outwards. His legs began to get fuller and he also began to shrink in height. His pecs quickly lost all definition as they were hidden under a thick layer of fat and his stomach continued to balloon out warden. Hair began to sprout from ever office of his body giving him in a thick coat of fur. His feet got shorter becoming a size of extremely wide and thick size 11s. He had little sausage toes now while his fingers fattened up. His butt began to inflate and sag as it widened and his back began to grow wide to match. A thick unkempt beard began to grow out of his face while he started balding. What was once a hunk before now looked like an out of shape 45 year old man. Matt smiled at his creation. Knowing that there was more to come.

Matt woke up to screams from the living room. Walking in he seen Stephen looking at his phone and trembling. “What the fuck has happened to me !!” Matt asked him. What he was talking about. All a part of his plan to make Stephen lose his mind. He was going to treat Stephen like the fat older man he was now. Even though he was the only other person in the world now that would remember what he is really supposed to be like. “Phen. You need to stop acting weird. It’s time for you to go to work. I wasn’t able to wash your janitor uniform though. “ Stephen just looked at him. Whatever happened seemed to have changed reality he thought. He had to get out of there. And sadly. It seems as though the dirty uniform was the only thing that would fit him. Before he left the apartment Matt handed him some pills “don’t forget your pills Phen. You know you need your heart meds and that cholesterol needs to come down. Try not to eat those 4 double cheeseburger for lunch again” he said as he kissed Stephen’s fatter face.

Work was hard for Stephen. He found that at his new size and short let height he was screed on all aspects of life now. He was the lowly janitor of the gym he worked at ! And people would just throw dirty clothes on him and expect him to always be at their whim for cleaning. During his lunch break he wanted to find a way to fix this. He had to get his old body back ! But then he caught glimpse of it. The burger signs. And drawn by an impossible force he walked over. Walking through the doors he was greeted by the cashier. Working his wallet out of his pocket with his meaty hands he paid for his food. 5 double cheeseburgers. And he ate ever bite. Licking the grease from the wrappers and his fingers. He was forced by some unseen force to be the fat animal he looked like. Walking back home he could help but feel winded. His lunch should have. Been enough to make him feel full for days but his stomach was growling like an angry bear. He felt so tired. As he walked through the apartment door he shuffled his wide feet down the hallway and looking in the mirror began to cry.

Somehow during the day he had gotten older. And much bigger. What little muscle definition he had was completely gone. Now his stomach was rock hard and protruding in an impossible beach ball stomach. Completely bald with white facial hair. Matt came around the corner and Stephen cried. He pleaded for Matt to remember him. “Phen. Are you ok? I know you’re jealous of my youth. But we’ve talked about this. You’re a 61 year old man. You have to come to terms with that!” And he walked off. That number reverberated in Stephen’s head.

Walking around the beach no was no longer fun for Stephen. He was getting looks now but not for his hot young body. It was for the massive beach ball he carried. He had been stuck like this for a whole month at this point. Continuing to try to find a way to change back there just has to be one. Matt came walking up to him with food. “You know one day. I’m going to stop giving into her hunger. We gotta find someway to get you. Lose weight Phen”. Phen aggressively at the multiple cheese burgers, fries and shake that Matt had brought him. Matt watched his creation. Everything from that night with spell had come true. An intense appetite that never went away, old age, massive bloated stomach with no muscle definition, and all the pains that would come with his body being like this. He knew that Phen was trying to find a way back. To get his old body back so he could be happy. But little did he know, that the Matt altered the working of the spell. “And when you agree to this the changes will be permanent”.

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sutaagaaru · 2 months

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STAR BOY— NANAMI KENTO X READER

CHAPTER 04: NANAMI KENTO IS A GENTLEMAN.

౨ৎ synopsis: nanami kento is finally dragged out to a bar by his work colleague, satoru. against his better judgment he ends up drinking, and finds himself spending the night with a pretty girl. he can’t seem to stop thinking about her, or if he’ll ever see her again. turns out she’s closer than he thought….

౨ৎ content: masturbation (m), you are plotting and gojo satoru is your shit stirring accomplice, massage therapy nanami, flashbacks, i’m planting little foreshadowings here and there (hehe), this man is JEALOUS, use of ‘sir’ many times

౨ৎ chapter summary: nanami is starting to crack, and you’re doing nothing to help stop it.

previous chapter // next chapter

“i feel so blessed in this moment that it’s you who’s contacting me, you know.”

satoru’s lilting voice rang through your phone’s speaker, while you were manoeuvring through your kitchen.

“don’t consider yourself special, gojo. i just need your help with something.” you rolled your eyes despite the fact he couldn’t see it.

“as much as i’m flattered, i don’t think we’d make a very good couple. i’m simply too valuable in the single market.” the man teased you effortlessly, and you realised that this was just his natural personality.

“in your dreams. i need you to help me with nanami, actually. you know more about him than i do and i want to be at an advantage.” you grabbed a carton of eggs from your pantry, as well as a jug from your cabinet.

“well, in that case, i’m all ears. i’ll tell you his deepest, darkest secrets and his turn on’s, even ones he doesn’t know he has.” satoru’s smile could be heard through his words.

“don’t be so crude, gojo. i’m being serious.” you scolded him, cracking an egg.

after an enlightening conversation with maki and nobara last night— which consisted of them laughing at your irrational behaviour, and recreating said behaviour in your living room— they told you that you should find out more about him from his own friends, namely satoru.

“okay, fine. but there is one teeny tiny condition. you have to call me satoru from now on.”

“absolutely not.”

“please?”

“no.”

“pretty please? it will help you get nanamin!”

“how will it– fine… satoru.” you surrendered, reluctantly. he was so insufferable, but you truthfully enjoyed the friendship you had, even if satoru was perhaps the most irritating man you’d encountered.

“yippee!” you pulled a face he obviously could not witness (of course he was the type of man to say yippee…)

“okay, first of all, do you have a pencil skirt?”

౨ৎ

nanami kento was… well, he was dumbfounded, for lack of a more dramatic term. the dramatics were your thing, and you seemed to amp it up overnight. it was like you peered into his mind, his secrets, his innermost less-than-gentlemanly thoughts. but before that…

he’d already spent the night tossing, turning, and quite frankly pacing his bedroom thinking about the feeling of your sweet lips on his cheek.

how could he be acting so childish over a kiss on the cheek of all places? it was like a time warp back into his formative years, with his sad, asymmetrical fringe and a permanent dust of blush on his cheek if a girl even spoke to him.

he remembered how satoru would tease him back then, the same way he would now:

“aw look, nanami is blushing! he must think that girl is pretty, huh?” satoru teased, poking a 16 year old nanami in the arm.

“shut up gojo… you’re so insufferable.” he muttered, fiddling with the strands of his hair.

“you speak like an old man, nanami, has anyone ever told you that?” satoru jokingly wrapped an arm around the boy, who just glared at him.

“yes. you have. every time we speak.”

“ignore him, nanami. he’s trying to rile you up on purpose.” shoko mused, clearly getting a kick out of it but wanting to spare nanami from the situation, “i’m gonna go for a smoke…”

“those things are bad for you, moron. i’ll take one too, though.” suguru chimed in, following shoko outwards.

nanami wasn’t sure if he was imagining things, but suguru was getting quieter than usual.

“they’re so… anyway, if you like the girl, you should go for it. no harm in shooting your shot.” satoru continued, while nanami rolled his eyes.

“i don’t care for relationships. all it does is distract me from what i need to be doing with my life.” nanami mumbled dispassionately.

“wow. i knew you were cold, nanami, but that’s just… damn. relationships are fun. and i would know since i’ve had like, 40 of ‘em. you’re kinda… mean, nanami. wait, i just thought of the most genius nickname for you…” satoru’s voice trailed off.

“nanamin!” nanami snapped out of his reminiscence of the past, by the ever disappointing sound of satoru’s voice.

“are you having a good morning? feeling nice and relaxed, full of life?” satoru cheesed, of course it was because he’d had a master plan in action, but nanami didn’t yet know that. so of course he assumed satoru was being his usual self.

“what in god’s name are you talking about, gojo? can you please save the theatrics for a time where i am not present?” he sighed woefully.

“i don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you–”

“gojo. must you make the same joke over and over? it’s been well over a decade by now.”

“alright, alright. it doesn’t matter. the point is, i hope you have a beautiful week.” satoru bowed in an unusual politeness, and made his way towards the door.

“is– is that it?” nanami asked with slight reluctance.

“no, that’s not it, but for now… i am finished. bye bye!” satoru quickly stormed out of the room before nanami could even give a response. (he was too busy realising gojo is exactly the type of man to say ‘bye bye’. and why did everyone keep leaving before he could respond?)

regardless, nanami’s poor mind wandered back to you again. he was torn between two options: give in to that voice in the back of his head– that almost sounded like satoru?– and take what he finally wants for once; or do the responsible, level-headed thing that he would usually do.

of course he should choose the latter, but it was easier said than done because the minute he saw you, the former option seemed much more appealing to him.

maybe if he avoided you, it would be easier to be rational! yes! that’s exactly what he’d do, he’d just ignore you— fuck.

the timing was cruel. the moment the thought formed in his mind, there you were with a coffee cup, knocking on his door.

but it wasn’t only your presence that had shaken him up, it was when he invited you in and saw the tight-fitted, black pencil skirt adorning your body.

“good morning! i hope i’m not disturbing you.” you beamed, closing the door behind you.

“…oh! no, i was just preparing our project for today,” nanami mentally slapped himself, he’d practically been ogling you but if you’d noticed, you weren’t showing it. he turned his head to the clock on his wall, then back to you, “you’re here a little bit early today. you aren’t expected to be here for another 20 minutes, and as you can see by the empty bullpen, none of the other staff prefer having an early start. did you need something?” nanami willed himself to keep his eyes level.

“yes, actually. i wanted to know more about this project, and how i could be of better service since it’s my first week…” you were deeply satisfied to see nanami’s eyes descend down your body with a complete lack of subtlety, and shoot back upwards hastily as if he were chastising himself.

you loved gojo satoru right now.

“ahem, yes, well i’d be happy to talk you through it, the project, and how you can use this as a foundation for future endeavours too. i’m sure with your past experience, you’ll be very useful. for the project.” nanami briefly considered launching himself out of the nearby window.

“you’re so kind, i really appreciate that about you.” you gave the man a heartfelt compliment, “i also got you a coffee from the bakery to apologise for my clumsiness… but you’d be better off taking it from me otherwise i’ll most likely spill it.” you laughed while he grabbed the cup from your hand.

“you really shouldn’t have, i told you it was fine. but i- is that black coffee?" he interrupted himself, the smell of the bitter drink invading his nostrils.

"i may have asked around to find out your favourite... i hope that's okay." you grinned, knowing this was only the beginning of your plan (operation: get nanami laid, as satoru crudely named it.)

"it's more than okay, i didn't have time to get my own this morning because of the workload i have today, so thank you. speaking of, would you like to stand by my desk while i show you the plan for this week's project?" nanami took a sip from his cup, familiar with the rich taste, and he sighed satisfactorily.

"of course, i'm really interested to see what the–shit!" with the grace of a landmine, you knocked a pot of stationery off of nanami's desk, and it landed with a thud onto the floor.

"you should stop making such a habit of this." nanami chuckled as he watched you scramble to the floor next to him.

"i'm like a human tornado. seriously, i should be padded with foam to prevent accidents to myself and others." you peered up at him (bad idea), seeing him loom over your kneeling body and it made you dizzy with want.

nanami, meanwhile, felt like he was unknowingly participating in a social experiment in which he had to resist the temptations of the perfect woman. and with god as his witness, he was failing miserably.

what was it about your eyes that had him so enraptured? his plan to avoid you so he could impede exact moments such as this had been cast aside.

he just needed to get through the week.

"i swear, you are just as dramatic as gojo, if not more. here," he offered his hand, something that had become a frequent occurence, and pulled you up, causing you to almost stumble into him, "you okay?"

"yes, i'm okay. let's agree to ignore my elegant slip ups and then you can tell me all about this proposal." you exhaled.

"right. this is the premise of what we do here. the company collects clients which is decided by the board, made up of each department manager and including my superiors. for this project, we have the author torugu gusetsu, who we have worked with previously on a compilation of short stories and poems." nanami explained thoroughly, making sure you were following along.

"shades of winter! i have that in my collection, it was beautifully written and the design was perfect for the central theme."

"yes, the design is one of my favourites, gojo put all his efforts into that. torugu has brought us a novel this time, similar to the themes of shades of winter, so gratefully he has chosen to work with us again. our department first focuses on the editing, so each and every one of us will have to read it and give initial notes. i have previous examples of notes i have written if you'd like to see them." nanami releases your hand— oh god, he'd been holding it the entire time and neither of you noticed— and hands you a folder full of exquisitely written notes.

"these are the notes i wrote for mieko kawakami's heaven: roman novel. it's important to highlight specific lines and chapters which you find compelling, as well as sections you feel aren't as necessary. after this process, we have a meeting and discuss these notes, and relay them back to the author. this is where the marketing comes in. our department creates advertisements and ways to build excitement with the public before the book's release." he continues, skillfully averting your eyes to avoid you seeing the blush tinting his cheeks.

"so things like press tours, promotions that showcase the best parts of the book?" you added for confirmation.

"exactly, we have our hands full in this department." he nodded affirmatively, "publishing and marketing used to be two separate departments, until they conjoined the two. it's the reason we have the most staff."

nanami continued to give you the details until you felt you were prepared.

"do you have any questions?" he asked you.

"not at the moment, but i'll be sure to come to you if i think of any. you've really helped me out, thank you... sir." you bowed, hiding the tiny smirk planted on your lips.

"what exactly is that going to do? i'm sure he gets called sir all the time, how will it be any different if i say it?" you grabbed a forkful of your fried egg from the plate.

"trust me, it's completely different," satoru remarked, "he insists that everyone use his family name, and i've always known it's because he secretly loves that title a little too much, if you know what i mean." was it possible to hear someone's eyebrows raising through the phone? you certainly could.

"oh...so he likes being an authority figure. i have to admit, i didn't expect nanami to be so... kinky?" you outwardly cringed at your word choice.

"wait until i tell you about his obsession with tights..."

౨ৎ...

nanami watching you strut of out of his office, tights covering your lower body, was only the beginning of his torment.

every day for the rest of the week, you walked in, with the sheer material wrapped around your legs, and the intent to kill him.

it started with you depending on him with all of your questions, though they were warranted, and ending them with an appreciative thank you, sir!

then, you began asking him if he wanted anything from the bakery- hah, as if supplying him with baked goods would get him to crack!

but each time you brought him a morning snack, you simply had to accompany it with a handwritten message on a sticky note:

'i hope you enjoy my delicious homemade treat (hehehe just kidding, i could never take credit for our bakery's work) i drew you as a cat, he's called nyanami! he's eating a croissant just like you'

'nyanami has an apple strudel today. i wasn't sure if he likes them so i got him his favourite too: a beignet. i hope you enjoy them together. P.S. if you actually don't like apple strudels i will give it to my real life cat because he definitely likes them. :3'

'i'm glad you liked the strudel. today's divine snack is my favourite, so i drew nyanami and catoru (satoru as a cat) fighting over the choux bun. happy friday sir!'

yes, friday. even though nanami deeply appreciated the daily mediocre cat drawings, friday was the worst day of the week. you were cruel, you were so, so cruel to do this to him when he'd tried so hard to remain a gentleman.

you'd handed him the choux bun, along with the note, and instead of making your exit you'd stood opposite him.

"is something wrong?"

you hummed, rocking back and forth on the heels of your shoes, "i just wanted to savour the moment of you enjoying the pastry i got you. because it's my favourite."

nanami snickered, "are you after some of my snack?"

"well if you insist! possession is nine tenth's of the law, after all. plus, i didn't get myself one today." you sat in the chair he'd pulled out for you, watching him split the bun in half.

"oh yeah? why not?" he passed you your half.

"i didn't think i wanted it that badly, but now that it's in front of me, i can't think of anything i want more." your hand, that wasn't currently holding the pastry, reached up to hold your neck, and you winced slightly, "my neck has been killing recently, i must not be sleeping properly."

"you know, i took a short massage therapy class in college once." nanami informed you.

"wow, really? i had no idea!" which of course, was a lie. satoru had already told you.

"yes, it was quite unusual for me. though it did become useful since… some old friends needed them often." he seemed to almost mutter the last part, glancing to the side of the room.

"could you give me one? it feels like someone punched me in the back of my neck.” you rolled your head around to exaggerate the pain.

“i- uh, sure. i’m a little rusty, though.” nanami stammered, caught off guard by your request.

he stood from his desk chair, moving behind you and reluctantly pushing your hair to your shoulder.

“here, i’ll tie it up so it’s out of your way.” you quickly grabbed your hair and tied it into a ponytail, and for a brief moment nanami had a carnal urge to tug at it.

“where exactly does it hurt? right here?” he pressed a thumb against the lower part of your neck, hitting the knot that formed there. you inhaled, flinching slightly which indicated to nanami he’d found the sore spot.

“i’m going to pinch the side of your neck with my fingers, and drag the skin back until i get to the ache, okay?” he explained as he did exactly that.

you sighed, partly at the relaxation of the massage, but mostly at nanami’s hand grasping at your neck.

“that… feels good.” you breathed, tilting your head downwards.

behind you, nanami focused on the pressure his hand was demonstrating, the sound of his clock ticking on the wall, anything that wasn’t how intimate this exchange was. he hadn’t touched more than your hand since that one night, and now he had his fingers kneading into your skin, he felt like his morals were crumbling before his very eyes.

“is it working?” his voice betrayed him, the words sounding hoarse and breathless.

“mm… definitely. your hands feel amazing.” you murmured, affecting nanami in precisely the way you’d hoped. you heard him exhale quietly, almost like he was shuddering.

though you couldn’t see, nanami’s eyes were fluttering out of his control, as they watched the way you squirmed at his touch. bringing his other hand upwards to your neck, he pressed both thumbs onto the knot in your muscle, holding them down and circling them to massage the knot.

a whine unintentionally slipped past your lips. this was all part of the plan satoru had devised, but you weren’t expecting nanami to be this good with his hands…

“right there, sir… that’s where i feel it the most.”

…and that’s how nanami ended up inside of a bathroom cubicle, tugging at his aching cock to the thought of you.

he felt like a perverted man, he had never felt so strongly for a woman to commit such a depraved act.

sliding his hand up and down the length, he bucked his hips into nothing, wishing, praying, begging that he could be inside of you.

all week long, you had tortured him, tempted him, and he made such an effort to defy his own cravings. but like a phantom, you kept appearing and reeling him in.

throwing his head back, his eyebrows furrowed, nanami thought only of you.

your hands, easily engulfed by his. would they even cover his dick? you’d have to use two. would you slowly drag your hands up and down, and up, and down, teasing him? would you thumb at the slit, circling around it just as he had done to your neck?

oh god, and your mouth. he’d kill to watch you struggle, parting your lips, trying to fit him inside.

and your damn eyes. staring at him from below, always pleading with him for something he wasn’t even sure of. your eyes, boring into his, while he thrusted into your tight warmth.

your eyes, rolling back as he filled you up.

“oh, my god…” he inhaled through gritted teeth, so close to release.

come for me… sir.

nanami’s mouth gaped open as his cock twitched, spurting his hot seed into the bunched up tissue in his hand.

and as he caught his breath, nanami kento was overcome with sick guilt.

hours later, satoru made a visit to your department during lunch break.

“hey, you. how’s it going today?” he squatted down beside you casually as you opened up the boxed lunch you had prepared this morning.

“okay, i think? he’s been holed up in his office all morning, i’ve barely seen him since earlier.” you whispered tentatively.

“i would have loved to be a fly on the wall when that went down.” satoru smirked, stealing an apple slice from your container.

you swatted his hand away, “he’s unsurprisingly amazing at massages. he was acting kind of weird after it was over though, apparently there was an emergency board meeting?”

“what? i wasn’t called to that–” satoru stopped mid crunch of his apple, “ohhhh. what a naughty man he is.” satoru came to some realisation that you had yet to find.

“wait, tell me! what do you mean ohhhh?” you mimicked.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about that. anyway, are you ready for phase three of operation: get nanami laid?” he ruffled your hair, to your dismay, and stood upright.

“i told you not to call it that. but yes, go ahead.” you fixed your hair, lifting up the compact mirror from your desk and checking your appearance.

“okay, say ‘toru!”

click!

[image attachment]

satoru: lunch break with my new favourite co-worker :p

shoko: ew

she’s not even from your department

satoru: so? she’s the only one who calls me satoru which means i like her more than you two

nanami: why are you touching her shoulder?

shoko: stop trying to get all alpha male with each other

besides i met her first which means she’s my favourite

satoru: EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE

nanami: shut up, gojo.

are you still in my department? don’t you have more important things to do? for instance, your job?

satoru: nuh uh

it’s my break

i might take her to that bakery across the street, i’ve heard it’s really good

nanami: absolutely not. she’s not going anywhere with you.

shoko: did i lace my cigarettes with crack? what’s going on

satoru: i don’t remember asking for your permission nanamin

she told me she wants to go to pick something up for ryo

shoko: who the fuck is that

nanami: why do you know the name of her cat?

satoru: because i’ve met ryoki before and she loves me?

i mean duh ;p

shoko: okay fine no one explain anything to me then

nanami has sent you a message!

nanami: good afternoon. if you’re free, i’d like to visit the animal adoption agency you mentioned at the end of the day.

you: really? that’s great! let me double check my calendar

nanami: of course, if you’re not available i’ll wait until you can accompany me.

you: i’m in! when do you finish work today?

nanami: i haven’t got any extra work to complete, so hopefully right on time.

you: perfect, i can’t wait!

“am i amazing or what?” satoru smiled self-assuredly after you showed him the messages between yourself and nanami.

“i don’t want to inflate your ego any further, but yes. yes you are.” you shared a high five.

“all he has to do now is adopt a kitty and pounce on yours.”

“way to ruin a moment, gojo.” you deadpanned.

“hey! it’s satoru to you.”

౨ৎ…!

author’s note: i don’t know why my chapters start off so strong and then slowly go downhill writing wise. it’s the burnout i whisper to myself. anyway this was a chapter. it’s the first time i’ve written anything remotely smutty for this series, but of course it will NOT be the last. i hope it gives you a taste of what’s to come (eyebrow raising emoji)

i wish i could write this entire story in one day but alas my brain power is not what it used to be. i do however, have a solid plan for how i want it to end, and also some sweet moments (and angsty, too) in between.

i want to thank everyone for their patience with this story so far, i know it takes me a while to release chapters but it’s because my job SUCKS so i never have any time to be creative. plus, i want this to be perfect.

with that being said, see you next chapter!

(meow.)

taglist: @higurumapet @opheliaas-stuff @diogodxlot @socialanxietyvictim @delirious-donna @zombriesworld @aomi04 @topiatwinss @doyouevenshipit @levin4nami

#nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #jjk nanami #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 1 month

Text

heart to heart

cw. selfship-coded, childhood friend au, pre-canon, pre-relationship, slight angst, fluff, one piece spoilers

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

notes. apparently it isn't enough for me to brainrot in private about a character i've been obsessed with for a decade, you guys have to be subjected to it as well. whoops🤪

It is not hyperbole to say that early mornings are the only time of day when the Dadan Family base is peaceful.

The sun has barely risen, the morning birds have barely begun their song and most everyone is still snoring away in their cots. Early mornings and late evenings have become Dadan’s favorite time of day, citing them as the only times she is ever allowed a moment of peace.

That peace is stalled whenever Garp visits.

“You sure you don’t wanna come with us,” you ask Ace a final time before you leave for your hometown.

Ace shakes his head with a small smile, “they’re more your friends than mine.” A true sentiment, in your six years of knowing each other, there is still a distinction between your friends in Windmill Village and your friends living among bandits on Mt. Corvo. “Tell ‘em I said ‘congrats’ though. We might end up seeing them later down the road.”

“As marines!” Garp calls over his shoulder gruffly, not waiting for you to catch up. He has one more year to change his grandson’s mind about becoming a marine before the two of you left Dawn Island for saltier pastures. If he knew that fact, however, you’re sure the marine would grab you both by the back of your shirts and drag you to the port in Windmill Village this second. “You should take after those boys!”

The boys in question are Demarius and Stacey.

They’ve adored Garp since before you knew Ace was his grandchild, constantly pleading for him to take them to a naval base. He promised to do so once they turned 16. The least you could do was bid your friends farewell before they lived out their naval dreams.

Ace rolls his eyes, “Pirate!”

“It’s too early in the morning for you two to start that old fight again,” Dadan grumbles, turning around to head back inside. This was enough kissing Garp's butt for her, tucking away her handkerchief. “I get nothing but headaches when Garp comes around.”

You snicker at the grouchy woman’s exit, looking over her shoulder. The door to the room you share is shut close but you can easily picture Luffy stretched out and snoring, limbs all over the place wildly. He’ll be adding to Dadan’s headache soon enough. “Alright, well, I’ll be back later,” you tell Ace unnecessarily.

“You should spend the night in town,” Ace’s disgruntled expression shifts into something warm. You remember a time when he seldom smiled and could only offer you scowls. It’s hard to believe how much he smiles now, your lips quirking instinctively at the sight. “You haven’t been in town for a while. Everyone probably misses you.”

You lean forward, wiggling your eyebrows, “aww, trying to get rid of me now? You’re just trying to get more of a cut at dinner.”

“Maybe,” Ace’s grin widens and you share a laugh before Garp calls after you, further away than he was last.

Damn for an old man he moves fast. “See you,” you nudge your freckled friend before turning on your feet, nearly tripping as you stumble after his grandfather. “I’m okay,” you call over your shoulder.

Garp is grumbling to himself as you approach him. You don’t need to hear his words clearly to know he is thinking about his pirate obsessed grandsons. “Those dolts,” he mutters. “You used to play marines all the time with those kids in town. Now they’ve got you talking about being a pirate. You’ll all be marines, mark my words!”

“I really only ever wanted to just sail on the seas,” you tell Garp truthfully. Even as a child when Demarius demanded you play marines because he always wanted to play marines, you never played because you aspired to be one. It didn’t have to be the marines, it didn’t have to be pirates, you just wanted to set sail on the ocean blue. Pirate merely became the subsequent medium you vowed to pursue. “The marines kinda seem,” you mull over your next words carefully. “Strict. I just wanna see the world, not be told what to do.”

“Discipline is a good thing,” is his rebuttal. He certainly was very strict in the training you unwittingly got pulled into once he discovered your true intentions.

Silence falls between you both but it isn’t comfortable, not like the silences you’re used to.

Silence in Dadan’s home is accompanied by snores or the movement of someone heading to the bath. Luffy mumbling in his sleep about the many adventures he and his dream crew are on causing you and Ace to share a look and chuckle quietly under your breaths.

It’s when you tell yourself ‘Today’s the day I actually do it’ and you count away in your head the number of Ace’s freckles until you inevitably mess up the count and have to start all over again.

It’s when it’s raining and you, Ace and Luffy sleep in an empty hollow of a tree, the croak of the frogs singing to the drops.

Silence with Garp is suffocating and the jungle is too quiet and your brain too full of anxiety-ridden hypotheticals to even think about your childhood friends you’d be bidding farewell to. Instead, the ones you wouldn’t be saying goodbye to were at the forefront of your mind.

Another minute of silence follows before you’re unable to stop the words from falling from your lips, “Mr. Garp?”

Garp hums gruffly, bark worse than his bite, “what is it?”

“Let’s say that, hypothetically speaking of course, Ace and Luffy do become pirates,” you begin nervously, wincing at how the older man’s eyes sharpened at the word. “Hypothetically!” You’ve been a recipient of many of the marine’s Fists of Love, despite not belonging to his family, you don’t fancy receiving another. “They hypothetically become pirates and end up getting taken in,” you lick your lips as you try to imagine the scenario.

To your discomfort, it is terrifyingly easy to imagine Ace and Luffy in shackles.

The spectacle the World Government would make of it all. The grand executions of the sons of Gol D. Roger and Monkey D. Dragon.

The vitriol of the onlookers spewing words of hatred and damnation. No one would know who they are, not the onlookers in the crowds or the marines holding the weapons that would end their lives. Devils, they would be called.

There would be one marine who knew them, however. Who truly knew them and not what they represented. It only breaks your heart that in your many years of knowing the older man that you don’t know what end of the spectrum he falls on. No, that’s an incorrect assessment. What breaks your heart is that it has always been too easy suspecting precisely where Monkey D. Garp would fall.

In spite of your suspicions, you still part your lips and ask, “would you help them?” Uncharacteristically, you fiddle with your fingers, the index finger of your right hand being nestled by the thumb and index finger of your left. Clad in a tacky red button up with white roosters, the stocky man’s back seems broader than usual.

It’s the long pause between your question and his answer that sinks in your chest like a knife. “They,” Garp begins but you cut the man off with a laugh.

“Don’t be so serious,” you laugh so convincingly you almost believe you’re unbothered. “I was just messing around. I’m up in the air on the pirate thing but for all we know, Luffy’ll start talking about being the Marine King the next time you see him.”

The elderly marine laughs at the absurdity of your thought, “a king among marines, that’ll be the day.”

ー

“Your shadows not with you for once?” Stacey jokes lightheartedly as he leans his head over in mock surprise at the lack of people accompanying you.

“I’m pretty sure Mr. Garp would drag them onto that boat if they did,” anything to make those two follow in their grandfather’s footsteps. “Ace sends his congratulations anyways.”

“I’m still convinced that guy was replaced by aliens,” Demarius murmurs, squinting at the mountain’s peaks with narrowed eyes. You snort at the absurdity. You, along with your village-bound friends, had met Ace when he was more angry at the world and nearly all of the people inhabiting it. To say they’d been shocked when, the next time they met him, Ace was polite and all smiles is an understatement. Demarius’ suspicious glance lasts a beat longer before he turns his dark eyes to you, shoulders set back. “You can still come with us, you know.”

You remember being 10, running down these dirt roads playing marines with your friends as a rowdy quintet.

The battles you pretended to have against whatever made-up opponents Demarius decided you’d be fighting against. He’d always been the leader of the five of you ー him, Stacy, Pierre, Lisa Lisa and you ー would find yourselves on the tempestuous seas of the Grand Line, all odds against you.

“This is not a good day for battle but it is a glorious day to die,” you remember resolutely saying, words too heavy for someone who hadn’t been in a real fight her entire life until that point.

Real fights came after you met Ace and Sabo. When you began running amok in the capital and Gray Terminal. Real battle came when their angering the Bluejam pirates caught up with them. You couldn’t say you felt glorious fighting the Bluejam pirates in the flames of their hideout. Nor could you say Sabo’s horrifying end was glorious either. There is no glory in fighting but you will do what you have to to protect who you have left.

Pulling yourself from the memories, you shake your head, “you’ll see me at sea next year,” you vow with a grin. You lower your voice so the cantankerous marine behind you cannot hear what you say next. “It’ll just be in a way that pisses off the old man.”

There’s simply one more year to go.

You, alongside the other locals, wave the boys down until they become nothing but a speck on the horizon. Well, off their asses go. You sit on the porch step of what used to be the house that belonged to you and your grandfather. I think the last time I came here it was like, you purse your lips thoughtfully. Shiiieet, 3 months ago? You seldom spend time in the empty shack now. It is only good for your occasional visits and when you’re too lazy to head back up to Dadan’s. That is where home is now.

It’s wherever Ace and Luffy are.

Ace and Luffy who you know Garp loves but will always choose work first. He always has and he always will, so you will always choose them instead.

#look she's writing #one piece x reader #op x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #one piece x you #ace x you #childhood friend au #look it's self shipping hours #sea otters #flaming pearls #this is probably going to be the start of a oneshot series for ace ngl jgndfkgjg very self indulgent but we can enjoy it together #i'll think of a series name eventually hopefully maybe #burst of sparks #putting up the spoilers tag just in case someone reading this is new to one piece

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