#must have been something where they had drinks? or maybe were reacting to something drinks related

[slimeandsadness]

All the discussion about the bad sex eye contact while toasting thing is very funny because they definitely referenced it in another video recently. Wish I could remember off the top of my head, but they went off on a whole thing about not looking people in the eyes because of bad sex - which was where I learned about the concept - so I'd just assumed everyone else would remember.

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader

TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry

pt.2

The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.

Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.

Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.

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

Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.

"What’s wrong, Johnny?"

"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."

"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.

"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.

As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.

"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.

"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.

He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."

She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.

Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.

"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."

"Your girlfriend?"

"You won’t tell her a thing."

"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.

"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."

Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."

"Stop."

"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.

"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.

You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.

They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.

"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.

"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.

And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.

"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."

"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.

"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.

"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.

"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.

"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.

"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."

"EY!"

"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.

"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.

"Well, you didn’t, did you?"

"No, love, wait."

"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."

"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.

Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.

[hgfictionwriter]

Changes

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie’s used to change, but lately life has hit her with one thing after the next. When her best friend announces she’s leaving, she’s left wondering where it leaves her.

Warnings: none

A/N: Short little comfort piece based on this request.

“You haven’t had any of your tea,” you noted as you watched Jessie out of the corner of your eye.

She reacted slowly. After a few moments giving you a small noise of acknowledgment before she sat up on the couch and took a brief sip of her drink. She set it back down without a word or look.

Janine delivered her news today and Jessie had been very quiet and subdued all evening. She relayed the update to you over text earlier like it was something so trivial and commonplace. You’d asked questions, but even now as the day drew to a close, she very purposefully didn’t elaborate further.

You and Jessie hadn’t been together all that long, just a few months, but you knew her well enough to know that you shouldn’t push. She’d reveal more when she was ready.

So here you were, both quietly sitting on the couch, each immersed in a book. You read the same few paragraphs over and over, thoughts going astray and losing focus, made worse by how you noticed Jessie hadn’t flipped a page in several minutes.

Eventually, Jessie shifted, restless almost. You kept your eyes fixed on your book knowing it was best to let her come to you. In time she cleared her throat and spoke into her book.

“Janine’s leaving - moving away, getting married. Heck, who knows, maybe she’ll have kids soon. Sinc’s retiring. Maybe leaving, too, to be closer to her family.” She sighed quietly, opening her mouth to speak and stalling. She sighed once more. “I don’t know.”

Jessie set down her book and sunk further into the couch. She picked at her fingers absently and was quiet for a moment before giving you a fleeting glance.

“I guess part of me feels like maybe I’m falling behind in some way.” She stared vacantly at the floor before shifting again with another small sigh. “Or being left behind. I don’t know.”

“Hey,” you interjected gently, resting a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t react. “Even if it feels that way, no one’s intentionally leaving you behind. They both love you a lot and you’re important to them.” You struggled to find the right words. “I can’t say for sure, but it seems to be the nature of your work. It’s not easy to put down roots or stay in one place for long. That must be really hard though.”

Jessie exhaled, letting her head fall back against the back of the couch to stare up at the ceiling.

“It is,” she said simply.

“And you’re not falling behind. National team captaincy. You’re a consistent starter for a Shield winning team. The list goes on.”

“The National team is great, but there’s so much bullshit too. I’m doing what I can, but I can’t help but feel like I’m not doing enough,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “And I don’t always feel like I’m gelling with the team here. I may start, but I don’t know, sometimes I feel like I haven’t necessarily made the impact I’ve wanted to.”

“There’s absolutely no road map for what the national team is going through. You led them out of a near impossible situation. I’d say you did exceptionally. And as for the Thorns, even if you feel that way, your stats say otherwise. It’s still a new team for you, it’s okay to feel like you’re still finding your place.” You sought eye contact with her, which she offered briefly. “And I think we both know you’re your worst critic.”

“Well. Considering my best friend is leaving to be closer to her fiancé and to, you know, build her life and career and I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself instead, I’d say I deserve some of that criticism,” Jessie said with a slight edge in her tone.

“Jess,” you said softly. “You need to be kind to yourself right now. It’s okay to feel bad or upset. I’m sure you were supportive when she told you and we both know you will be in all of your actions. You can still feel what you feel and be a good friend - all things can be true.”

She was quiet a moment longer before chancing a brief look at you before shifting and rubbing the back of her neck nervously.

“I don’t know. It just feels like a mess,” she said with a huff. “I guess I’m questioning some things now too. A big part of why I came here was to play alongside her and Sinc and in a few short months every aspect of that will no longer exist,” she relayed. “And I left Chelsea with so much confidence that this was the right move, that I’d never grow or get more of a chance there, but things have changed so much over there now I’m wondering what would’ve happened if I’d stayed.”

You cast your gaze downward for a moment, a pang going through you at her words. You hushed it immediately and refocused on her. This wasn’t about you.

“That’s understandable,” you said. “A lot of variables have changed. You couldn’t have known that would be the case though. You made the right decision for you in the moment and that’s really all you - or anyone - can be expected to do.”

She nodded quietly, eyes still trained on the ceiling. You tried to not let your emotions get the best of you. As apprehensive as you felt by this shift, Jessie was not yours to keep. You couldn’t and wouldn’t ever want her to stay unless of her own accord.

“Is that something you want to explore?” You asked, keeping all implications and judgement out of your voice. “Talk with your agent? See what options you might have?”

She shook her head right away. “No. I’m just - just talking. You’re right, I need to give myself time here. I’m just in my head. And being hard on myself.”

She offered you a small smile.

“And in some ways Portland feels more like home to me than London did even after three or four years,” she said. “Not only just lifestyle-wise, but I wouldn’t have met you if I didn’t come here.”

Despite her words, all you could muster was a half-smile that you hoped was reassuring.

“You do seem at home here,” you chuckled, but soon grew earnest. “But, if you wanted to explore other options, I hope you know I wouldn’t hold you back. That’s the last thing I would want to do. I love you and want to support you in wherever your life takes you.”

You did your best to seem nonchalant. “We’re still new, I’m aware of that. So I hope whatever you choose to do, that it’s with solely you in mind. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Jessie turned to you now, her body language opening up as she looked at you. She took your hand.

“Hey, I know we’re new, but I love you, too. Even if everything was falling apart here - which, it isn’t, even if I’m talking like it is - it would all be worth it because I got to meet and fall in love with you.”

You held her gaze, digesting her words before smiling and nodding your acceptance.

“That’s really sweet. Thank you. I really hope you feel like there’s still a lot of good for you here - outside of me,” you said.

“I do,” she said with a soft smile. She released a quick breath, looking away before meeting your gaze again. “I just need to remind myself that everyone’s on their own path. Janine has hers. Same as Sinc. And I have mine too. They don’t need to always be parallel or intertwine. I just need to adjust.”

“That makes a lot of sense. You came here with a particular expectation and vision and it’s turning out differently than you pictured. It’s normal that you need some time to adjust.”

Jessie sighed, more contentedly this time and leaned her head on your shoulder. A rush of warmth and affection went through you and you kissed the top of her head. She wrapped her arm around your middle and cuddled in.

“Thank you for being so sweet,” she said. “And patient.”

“Of course,” you told her as you kissed her head once more.

“No. Some people don’t get it. They have a hard time giving me space when I need it. Like Janine,” she joked before humming softly. You gave her a squeeze.

“She’ll still be your best friend,” you reminded her. “You’ve spent more time apart than together and you’re solid - it’s never stopped you before.” You gave her a light nudge. “You may just have to take on more media now that Janine won’t be jumping to step in front of the mic.”

Jessie groaned with a laugh. “Don’t even put that out there.”

She exhaled, resting against you more fully.

“Truthfully, I’m feeling a bit lost or uncertain in some ways, but I have trust in myself and in the process. I know even if I’m feeling apprehensive about all of the change and upheaval around me, I know this is where I need to be. And to be here with you feels absolutely right.”

[dragon-ascent]

Hello, how are you ? Since you have open request I’d like to ask something : How do you think our favorite dragon Zhongli will react to his wife being accused of lying because they have corrected an historian on a false fact about Morax ?

Since English isn’t my first language I’m afraid this is not clear, I’m sorry.

Ooh, I like it, here's what I've come up with <3

-----

The tension is palpable and certainly not what you were hoping to land yourself in when you accepted Zhongli's request to be his plus-one aboard the Pearl Galley.

"Forgive me, Mr. Changying, but that's where I'll have to correct you," you tell the stocky man before you. The food and drinks on the table are long-untouched. "Rex Lapis didn't take on such a grand ten-headed and eight-armed form to exterminate those sea creatures. In fact, he personally went door to door to trap them in little Geo contraptions, even having a bit of trouble with the.... particularly wrigglier ones."

Changying's eyes practically roll into the back of his head. "Do you truly believe that rubbish just because that is what's commonly peddled? That the Geo archon, who could raise the mountains and calm the tides without breaking a sweat, found the task of getting rid of tiny sea creatures tedious and challenging?"

Sighing, you say, "Even the gods are subject to being less-than-perfect in their methods. And besides, the damn things were inside people's houses - brute strength would not have been handy at all. Rex Lapis needed to be careful and meticulous so that none of his people were harmed. Hence the Geo cages."

Despite how neatly you'd presented your counterpoint, Changying merely scoffs as he adjusts his glasses. He jabs a finger at you accusingly. "You're lying, just like everyone else," he growls, "and you clearly have no respect for our late archon! Do you even like him?"

Your breath nearly hitches in your throat as you gaze up at him in shock. "Ex...excuse me?"

The man pulls no punches as he continues his rant against you. "How can you so blindly believe what the masses think? Maybe if you were a real Rex Lapis follower like me, you would learn some critical thinking skills and draw more accurate conclusions!"

"I'm afraid I am on the side of my partner here, Mr. Changying," cuts in Zhongli, placing an arm on your shoulder. Relief floods your veins as you let out the breath you'd been holding. "They are correct in explaining that Rex Lapis had to go the simplistic route when dealing with Liyue's sea creature infestation."

Changying's eyes grow wide. "Forgive me, Mr. Zhongli," he murmurs, and you're not ignorant to the way his tone mellows out and becomes more respectful as he continues to speak. "I didn't know you were also in agreement of that story. But let me explain why he likely-"

"It is alright for you to have your own interpretations of events, especially for a being with an expansive history that is always being debated over," says Zhongli calmly, poised as always, "but when these interpretations are unrealistic and you still try to present them as fact...while belittling other people, no less...the line must be drawn somewhere, yes?"

Changying blanches, stammering, "Er, but don't you think Rex Lapis would appreciate deviating thought processes more, especially when..."

Zhongli's eyes narrow ever so slightly, his visage still calm as a pond. "Perhaps so, but what he would not appreciate is his people trying to one-up others in an attempt to prove they are his most loyal followers." Your husband glances at you. "I know my partner well, and they love Rex Lapis dearly. Not only do you accuse them of lying, you also undermine the love they hold for the deity."

His hand brushes against yours and he interlaces his fingers with you, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You smile softly.

Changying scrambles for words, useless excuses and explanations that hardly justify him being on his high horse.

Zhongli, unamused, fires his parting shot. "Far be it for an ordinary man like myself to tell you what to do, but here is some advice: gather reliable citations for your claims, provide succinct evidence, and be respectful of those with opposing views, and perhaps then Rex Lapis would consider you a favorite of his."

With that, Zhongli escorts you away from the scene, knowing full well you will always be his favorite by far - the approving smile he gives you conveys that perfectly.

[bitterbutblue]

Your Ruan Mei angst broke me I need fluff to restore my soul please 🥺🥺🥺

Also it was really good I was thinking about it for the rest of the day

ruan mei time~

you make me feel alright ☆ ruan mei x reader

~ I GOT U ANON SORRY RUAN MEI LOVERS FOR THE PAIN I HAVE CAUSED U here is one where she [REDACTED SPOILERS][REDACTED SPOILERS][REDACTED SPOILERS]

studying a stem degree and going through it unwillingly

SOTD: just fine - spookyghostboy ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

As a scientist, everything must be objective and everything is always going to be black and white. She has discerned herself from anything that held her back from her true potential- anything that had to do with her past. Or just who she was.

You were everything she hated, everything she despised about who she once was and she wanted to hate you so bad. Yet something about the way you smiled at her for the first time was so infuriating that she decided she never wanted to see you again, but also wanted to spend eternity with you.

"Darling, what do you want for dinner?"

Ruan Mei looks up at the sound of your voice, her heart clenching in a way she really hated feeling but also simultaneously wanted to feel that way forever. She doesn't smile, she doesn't react and she barely flinches but she feels her finger twitch slightly as your eyes meet hers from where you were sat on the couch- sprawled out like a mess and she had to fight the urge to want to walk over and just lay down in your arms. She hates the way her heart jumps a bit, as if giddy like a child.

"I don't mind."

"I'll get us noodles. I'll order you a sesame cake on the side?"

The fact that you remembered her love for sweets had her swallowing, her throat going slightly dry.

"That would be wonderful."

"Great, it'll be here in twenty."

When you pressed a soft but quick kiss on her cheek, she feels her heart speed up even more as she looks down to bury herself in her work. She would honestly rather die than have you realise how red her face was getting in that moment.

(You knew though, smiling to yourself because how can someone be so adorable?)

You move to sit next to her, scrolling through your phone as you hummed whatever song was on your mind, taking a drink from your mug between intervals. Her eyes drift over back to you against her own will, gaze softening as she watches you break into a smile as you giggle at whatever stupid reel you were watching on your phone. She hated how carefree you were, how happy you were. She hated how you were everything she wasn't but she still can't help but love you more than she loves the world itself.

"I love you."

The sound of sputtering fills the silent room as you cough and wheeze, trying to catch your breath from choking on your drink. You feel your face heat up as you look up at her, and you half-expected her to not even be looking at you, or maybe she was talking to someone else.

Her eyes are on you. They have always been on you.

"I love you too."

Your voice is slightly strained, shaky as you were barely even able to speak. You haven't been going out for long, maybe only a month or two at this point and some part of you knew doing this, dating her, would possibly result in you developing major trust issues forever or hating relationships or whatever bad ending would come out of dating someone like her.

But she has been the best experience of your life.

You just never thought she'd ever truly love you the way you loved her.

Ruan Mei moves closer to you, inching her chair forward as she awkwardly glances between you and your hand, as if wanting to take it. So you put your hand on top of hers.

"I love you, Ruan Mei."

As a scientist, she should understand what it is she's doing and why she does what she does. She doesn't understand the urge, or the sudden compulsion. But she finds herself surging forward, moving to press her lips against yours as if desperate to feel you against her. You freeze, and for a moment she thinks she messed up and this horrible feeling she wishes to never feel again washes over her. A horrible, icy cold, as if someone had just injected ice straight through her veins. But it warms up as soon as she feels your hand against her cheek and your lips move in a way she's never felt before. It feels warm and it feels... it just feels.

She can't describe it but for the first time she feels like she wants to smile.

"Never kissed anyone?"

Your breathless words, flushed face and soft gaze has her feeling like a puddle. She doesn't mind, for the first time ever.

"I may need to do that again... for scientific research." She mumbles dazedly, eyes still glued to your lips. You just giggle, pulling her in again- completely missing the sound of the doorbell ringing nonstop as she smiles for the first time against your lips.

[jjonglemons]

all my works can be found here

Stress Relief

after yunho's fucking neck choreo on tour where he GRABBED THE DANCER'S HAND AND FORCED HIM TO CHOKE HIM, i was feeling some type of way so i wrote this, but i'm also a jongho bias so i was like.... let's make this extra fun! enjoy :)

Summary: you, yunho, and jongho are overstressed from work.

WC: 2k

Warnings: drinking, switch, threesome, fem!reader, non-idol!jongho, non-idol!yunho, mirror play (?), choking, oral, voyeurism (?), some pet names, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all)

I wasn't planning to be here, yet here I was. I had found myself alone in the classiest bar I could find. My day had been full of embarrassment in the office, and all I wanted was a few drinks and to remind myself that I am THAT BITCH. I deserved to splurge on a couple of overpriced cosmos and martinis tonight.

The bartender and I didn't talk much other than the usual "here's your drink" and "thank you." I think she could sense I wasn't in the mood for that and kept our verbal interactions minimal, though she often sent a smile my way. It was comforting amongst my shitty day.

I glanced around the space, my eyes landing on each person for a brief moment of curiosity. I wonder what their stories are. I thought to myself. As I nearly completed my rounds, I couldn't help but notice two beautiful men sitting in the corner. One was brunette with an intense look, yet he also emanated softness. He wore a suit and seemed to be reading over some sort of contract. The man beside him had dyed silver hair and a warm smile playing at his lips. His overalls framed his body well.

I must have been looking a little too long, because suddenly we made eye contact. Embarrassed, I looked away quickly and turned back to face the bar. I sipped awkwardly at my martini, trying not to ruminate on if I made them feel uncomfortable or not.

"What brings you here alone?" I heard a voice beside me. Startled, I bumped my glass, causing some of the drink to spill out onto the counter.

I heard a chuckle from my other side. "Careful," he said gently, grabbing some napkins to wipe up the mess.

"Thanks," I stated, then continued. "What are you two doing here yourselves? You seemed to be studying that paper, or whatever it was, pretty intently."

"You must have been watching us for a while." The brunette smirked. I opened my mouth to say something but was afraid I'd only embarrass myself further. "I'm Jongho," he added, "and you are?"

"Y/N."

"Nice to meet you, y/n, I'm Yunho," the other man said, reaching for a handshake.

I took his hand. "Likewise."

Jongho began to speak again, going back to my original question of what they were doing in the bar. "We're both working on a very big case these days. Super stressful, but it's been an.... interesting experience, to say the least."

"Lawyers?" I questioned.

"For 6 years." Yunho nodded. "And what about you? What do you do?"

"I work in advertising," I said, "and today's meetings were just an absolute mess I needed to unwind."

"Unwind, you say?" Jongho leaned over my shoulder slightly to pick up Yunho and his's drinks. I must have been so lost in the moment that I didn't even realize he had ordered. I felt his breath touch my ear, "I definitely feel that way, too. Must be something in the air," he laughed.

My body reacted stronger than I expected to him being so close. I couldn't help that my mind was now creating scenarios. Not only with him, but Yunho too. I didn't notice how sexy they were before. Seeing them up close was obviously very different than noticing them from afar in a dim bar corner. You know what, maybe a good fuck is what I needed. Oh god, what am I saying?

"Earth to y/n," I heard Yunho's voice, snapping me out of my trance, "are you alright?"

I cleared my throat. "Sorry, I was distracted by my thoughts."

"Must have been really good ones, you were biting your lip and looking at us pretty intensely."

I blushed and facepalmed. "I'm embarrassed."

"Don't be," I felt Jongho's fingers brush against my free hand, "if it's any consolation I've.... been having some thoughts myself throughout this conversation."

My stomach erupted with butterflies. He barely said anything, but damn, did he have a way with words.

"You know," Yunho chimed in. He leaned in a bit closer to me. I could feel my body temperature rising exponentially. "Our hotel is pretty well known for having comfortable beds."

His whisper sent shivers down my spine. And my god, was he driving me crazy. In that moment, I gathered up all of my confidence. There's no way I'd be completely submissive. I'm a grown woman, and I know what I want.

"Is that so?" I cooed, "I'd say mine's better."

"Oh?"

"Maybe we should see if she's right, what do you think, Yunho?" Jongho said slyly.

"I'll call a cab right now."

I smirked, placing cash on the counter to pay for all of our drinks. "Enjoy your night," I said to the bartender before quickly pulling the boys out of the bar with me.

"I like a woman who isn't afraid to take the lead," Jongho said once we were outside.

"I like to keep it fair," I replied.

The cab ride was short and sweet. VERY sweet. The three of us weren't afraid to tease until we got to the hotel. Jongho was so bold as to slip his hands under my dress and finger me gently. I knew how to be quiet, and thank god it was too dark for the driver to see us. Yunho nibbled at my ear, whispering sweet nothings. Him calling me "baby" in that low voice of his alone would honestly be enough to make me come.

I've never reached a hotel room so fast. Yunho immediately pinned me against the door before it shut completely, causing a loud slam to echo throughout the top floor hallway.

"Fuck," I said, breathlessly.

"I want them to hear us," he said.

Yunho kissed me briefly for a moment before pulling away. He gently led me over towards the bed where Jongho was waiting. Jongho stared at me, not breaking eye contact. He slowly began to unbutton his suit, biting his lip.

"Oh, you want to strip for me, huh?" I teased.

"Of course," he responded quickly, "have you seen yourself? Fuck, I've never been so turned on by anyone before."

"Is that so?" I inched slowly towards him, gently moving his hands away so I could continue undressing him myself. "I'll absolutely make this night worth your while; you can trust me."

"I do."

Once Jongho's torso was bare, I kissed him for a few seconds and then left a small trail of them on his collarbone before moving back over to Yunho. As he finished removing his shirt, I slid my hands around his waist from behind and undid his belt. I heard his breath catch in his throat. I watched him in the mirror in front of us, a sudden darkness falling over his face. "Did I say you could do that?" This was getting very interesting. He gripped my wrists to stop me from continuing and turned around so we were face to face.

Seeing as I am a bratty switch, saying that only pushed me to fight back. I pushed him back against the dresser, grasping his hands in such a way that I was now in control. "And what if I don't? What will you do? Are you going to punish me?"

He gritted his teeth, mustering enough strength to free one of his hands. He grabbed my chin and forced me closer. "I don't think you can handle what I'd do to you."

I tilted my head to slightly loosen his grip, biting the tip of one of his fingers ever so lightly. "You're underestimating me."

I felt Jongho's arms wrap around my waist. I smirked at Yunho, turning away from him and moving Jongho and I towards the bed. I went to lay him down gently, but he had other plans. Suddenly, I was pinned underneath of him. A darkness fell over his face, as well, and I couldn't help get more excited. I wanted them to fuck me into oblivion and I the same to them.

Jongho began to plant kisses all over my body, starting from my head. When he reached my shoulders, he pulled down the dress straps with his teeth. "Turn around and kneel," he demanded. I was so fucking aroused. He unzipped my dress and took it off in one swift movement. This guy's a pro.

I suddenly found myself blocking him from taking off my panties. He looked angry and I smirked. "Not so fast, baby, you should savour the moment." I glanced behind him, noticing Yunho watching us hungrily. He licked his lips and stood up to join us. He tried to take off my panties too, but failed. "My, my. You're so impatient."

I loved seeing them become more aggravated the more I teased. I could tell they wanted to devour me and it was almost time to let them.

I finished undressing, then grabbed both of their pants at the hips and pulled them towards me. "Take them off." I commanded.

"I refuse." Yunho teased.

I laughed, reaching to grab his neck. "You can't do that."

"Seems like someone's a bit of a hypocrite. You need to wait a little longer."

The next few minutes were a blur and before I knew it, I was deepthroating Yunho while Jongho fucked me from behind.

"Fuck," Jongho said between thrusts, "you feel so good, baby."

I paused with Yunho for a moment, and giggled, "I know I do." I continued rubbing my hands along his cock, inserting random licks on the tip every few strokes. "Yunho, babe, what do you want me to do to you?"

"I-" he whimpered, being so entranced by the pleasure he could barely speak, "fuck- I want to feel you, too."

Jongho gave a final thrust with a loud moan. "Hyung," he smirked, "she's all yours. I want to watch for a bit."

Something about Jongho watching as his best friend fucked me was extremely hot.

Yunho had me face him with my legs over his shoulders. I propped myself up on my elbows so I could watch him pound into me. "Yunho," I groaned, "holy fuck, you're so-" he hit the spot perfectly, "Fuck!" I screamed. I didn't realize how loud I was getting, but hearing Yunho match my moans just made me want to get even louder. He grabbed one of my arms and forced me to choke him.

"I want you to take all of me," he begged. I took that as my sign to show dominance. I flipped him over so I was now the one on top. He gripped my wrist hard, making sure to keep my hand around his neck. The more he moaned, the faster I rode him. "Come for me," I said.

"Yes, baby- fuck!"

He kept getting louder and louder until he orgasmed. His body was shaking so intensely that I nearly thought he was convulsing.

"Holy fuck," he exhaled, "where did you learn to do that?"

"I'm just a natural," I winked. I kissed him gently, then slowly raised myself up off of him.

"Jongho," I called. His eyes were full of lust. Consuming that pleasurable experience with his eyes left him wanting more. "Come taste me."

Without hesitation, he hovered over me and trailed kisses down to my clit. I moaned, gripping the sheets. "Baby, that feels so good."

"You taste amazing," he exclaimed. He continued swirling his tongue on me, pushing me closer to the edge.

"Don't stop, I'm going to come."

Just then, I felt two fingers slip inside me. I saw that Yunho had joined to finish me. He continued to finger my g-spot while Jongho sucked my clit. "Fuck," I inhaled sharply, beginning to feel my body convulse with immense pleasure. I let out one final, loud moan as I reached my climax.

"That was... incredible." I grinned, the boys falling on their back beside me.

"I've never been fucked so good," Yunho admitted, nuzzling his head into the nape of my neck.

"I could never top this," Jongho laughed, turning to spoon me from the side.

"I mean," I started, glancing at both of them, "I'm down to do this again."

[enaelyork]

Could I request a prewar!cooper Howard x fem!actress!reader where he finds out a producer has been making her sleep with him under the threat of cooper losing his jobs! 💓

Hi you !

Thx you so much for this amazing ask. So, here we are, hope you enjoy it.

I resign [PreWar! Cooper x F! Reader]

Ask for Cooper Howard is OPEN

TW: Alcohol, sexual abuse, violence.

Words : 1.9 k

- What's going on between you and him?

- Nothing at all.

You had swallowed your entire drink. You needed that, and a lot more alcohol, to drown out the shameful lie you had just told Cooper. It wasn't your intention to lie to him, but you had no choice.

- Are you sure ? Because he hasn't stopped looking at you since we both talked.

- He is afraid that you will corrupt his main actress…

The word had lightened the atmosphere, just a few seconds which allowed you to glance at Oscar Sullivan. The producer of your last film with whom you were forced to make this sordid agreement. You're due for another chance at Cooper Howard's career. It must be said that since his divorce, things have gone rather badly for him. A long absence from film sets and his image tainted by a marital breakdown earned him several refusals. So, when you applied for this new film together, you were delighted to learn that he had been chosen to play the lead alongside you.

But it was not without consequences.

It wasn't without Oscar's hands on your body, his mouth on yours and the consummation of your contract right at his desk. You thought that your charms would be enough, that once he had a taste of it, things would have improved for you as well as for Coop.

Big mistake.

The suspicion with which Cooper looked at you brought a blush to your cheeks. You put it down to drunkenness – the only way to escape from this situation – but it was an illusion.

It's difficult to admit to your friend that Oscar was waiting for you to join him in his hotel room after this reception, and that it was in your interest not to decline his offer. The features of his face calmed. As if despite his suspicions, he still managed to trust you. This semblance of carefreeness in him soothed you. He soothed you, probably more than he should. But Cooper had always been special to you, long before his divorce from Barbs, and he had brought out things in you that you had buried for a long time.

- You're worrying for nothing. Oscar is lovely to us, isn't he?

He hesitated before answering something much too nuanced for you. Cooper had noticed the way the producer treated you once on set. The way he devoured you with his eyes and took pleasure in making you shoot scenes in scantily clad clothes. The subject had already been brought up more than once, but you always managed to find a valid excuse, especially through the scenario.

- I assure you that everything is fine. But I'm going to go to bed. The champagne is really going to my head and we're back to work bright and early tomorrow.

Without you having time to react, Cooper's lips rested on your forehead and his scent of musk and wood spice spread into your nostrils. The intoxication he provoked in you made you dizzy and in that moment, when your eyes met his, you wanted to confess everything to him. That he was right. That you sleep with Oscar for him, so that he can finally relaunch his career. That in bed with this guy, you thought of him.

That you feel dirty. But nothing came except this awful sad smile which definitely cast doubt on your situation.

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

- He kissed you.

Oscar’s grip on your hips had tightened the moment he came to join you on the threshold of his bedroom door.

- Just a kiss on the forehead, nothing important.

- You really love him, then? Me who thought you only had eyes for me. Maybe I should take it away from you to remind you who you belong to, beauty.

- Of course not. You get ideas. It's only you who matters.

You kissed him, closing your eyes, trying to take your soul out of your body and put it on autopilot. He smelled of whiskey and cold tobacco, a smell the opposite of the one that still haunted you. Once the door closed, you didn't see the shadow watching you further down the hotel corridor and all the consequences that would follow.

----------

Cooper didn't even speak to you the next day.

Yet you had tried to approach him. Asking him if his night went well, if his text made him feel comfortable or if he needed anything. As the day went on, it became apparent to you that he was avoiding you a lot.

Then his eyes met yours and that look broke your heart definitly.

There was darkness in his hazel eyes, a darkness that seemed to slowly absorb him and painfully compress your soul. The day had been a constant torture searching for any sign of peace between the two of you, but nothing. The nothingness and sadness he sent back to you were unbearable. Then, the end of the day turned into a nightmare.

He had been drinking.

More than he should have done at the workplace, but you knew Cooper had that tendency ever since Barbs left with Janey. His life had become so disjointed that he no longer had any defenses to confront his ghosts. How could he believe in himself when the one he loved had decided to let him go too?

- Cooper, you need to go back to your dressing room now.

- And why this ?

He wasn't drunk, just enough to remove all inhibition from his mouth and turn his sweetness into venom. The look of contempt he gave you gave you chills. You waited until he left to take him to task and reason with his self-destructive attitude.

- Because your career is at stake, dammit! You didn't do all this to screw everything up.

- Are you the one who screws everything up? Do you want me to go back to my dressing room and play the whore producer?

You brought your hands to your mouth. Trying to understand how he could have known about this situation.

- Yeah. I saw you last night, sweatheart. It's not very nice to lie, especially to end up with this guy.

You were unable to answer him, frozen, petrified by the nastiness of his words. Outside rang out the bursts of laughter of a team satisfied with their long day of work. But there, in this locker room, chaos reigned between you and him.

- How can you do that? With him ? You're not a failed actress though. And…What the hell are you doing?

You were crying.

There were no other possible options. The sobs could no longer stay where you imprisoned them. It had been there for too long. It built up every time Oscar touched you, penetrated you and whispered vile words to you. But now, when Cooper was behaving exactly like a bastard, you could no longer remain impassive.

-He obliges me.

You realized in that moment that your back was pressed against a wall and that Cooper's body was so close to his that you could smell the delicious smell of mint and cold beer emanating from his breath. His hand hovered above his head, not as a threat but as a shield, protecting you from an unbearable world.

-When...When I signed my contract, he told me it was just one time. Once to allow you to be here.

He didn't say anything. Not a word.

A baleful silence disturbed by his slow breathing.

-I thought it would end there. But he told me that if I refused to continue, then he would terminate your contract. And I can't accept that. This role is with you or with no one.

Your breathing was labored, but you didn’t care because it was now obvious that you were going to die of a broken heart.

-I'm not a slut. I…He disgusts me, but I want the best for you, I want you to come back to the forefront, I want you…

Not another word came out of your mouth.

His lips rested on your forehead.

Tenderly. Impassively.

His finger had slid down your cheek, picking up the tear that fell on your skin before leaving, dragging you with him onto the tray with a firm but tender grip.

- Aaah, here they are, our heroes! Oscar was quick to jump out of his producer's seat when he saw you two rushing in together. Then, his enthusiasm faded at the sight of your eyes reddened with tears.

- What's going on, baby? Did Cooper hurt you? Do you want to talk about it together in…

He didn't finish his sentence.

His collar grabbed by Cooper's firm hands, pushing him back so violently that he knocked over his chair. - What the hell are you doing, you…

- I'm not a nice guy. Your friend began in a dark voice. So I'll tell you one thing. If you're looking for an actor to play good guys, you can find another one. I resign.

It had happened.

He had just said it exactly. Some members of the team tried to separate them, but you remained completely impassive, lost.

-And now that you can tear up my contract, you'll tear up hers too. He said, pointing at you with a jerk of his chin. If I find out that you're touching her again, that you're still trying to fuck her without her agreeing, I...

- She agreed, this little sl…

The fist that smashed his jaw flew without warning. Oscar found himself on the ground, disoriented by the shock of the impact. - Never talk about her like that, understand? He moved away from him, not without giving him a threatening look. Looking for his pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his jeans.

- Burn our contracts and explain to all your fans why you won't have your main actors to finish your job.

Shit. It was incredibly sexy to hear him defend you like that. You were shaking nervously, but it was terribly exhilarating to see him beat the shit out of that poor guy. When he grabs your hand, your eyes meet again and you understand that nothing will ever be the same between you again.

- Come on, Sweatheart. I'll take you to the police station. You have a complaint to file against this bastard.

[niichanism]

another throwaway-ish acesabo fic i might finish eventually maybe not. the logic and characterization started bugging me but also this ain't about that. i wanted to write alpha sabo wearing a muzzle while rejection-sensitive omega ace is extremely pissed to be denied kissies

Me in 2014, unenlightened: omegaverse is just a cheap tactic to make stoic blorbos pathetic Me now: I think ace one piece should experience PMS 

set ambiguously after marineford but ace lives + nothing huge is going on with the RA

TW: omegaverse, pre-heat pms??? lmao, this one actually isn't that spicy it's just silly summary: ace: what if you helped me with my heat. hahaahaha jk. unless sabo: (malfunctions)

“Another meeting?”

Even Ace is surprised at the sharpness in his voice. It's been jumping out of him these last few weeks. He wants to swallow it back down, this twitchiness, but as Sabo turns his good eye back to him, he tries laughing it off instead.

“Yep.” His brother shrugs, smiling. “Duty calls.” “Hmm.”

Ace had his responsibilities as second division commander, but they so rarely involved paperwork. Everything was hands-on, on the go. Meetings were like rallies or even parties more often than not.

He misses it a lot. It feels wrong to sail under any other flag. But Pops was good at protecting people, and that's something Ace can do. Besides, Sabo is here. Sabo, who still has a way of keeping Ace relatively sane– up until recently, at least. There’s a moment where Sabo catches his withered expression, but neither of them say anything. 

Ace falls back on teasing, hand on hip. “I’m just wondering if you ever get to have any fun is all.” “I have plenty of fun, Ace,” Sabo huffs, “especially when you’re around.” “Oh, yeah?” Ace is fairly sure— Sabo must be thinking of the fun they had a few weeks ago.

They’d saved a coastal town from some shitty pirates, which was already a good time in itself. They went to the tavern to drink– the place had good stuff, on the house for good deeds– went back to a good room– it’s actually pretty foggy from there. The emotions remain more than the specifics.

But he remembers riding Sabo stupid. Lighting the lamps so he could see when the sky went dark. And how pretty he looked, panting, his golden hair haloed on the bed. His bruising grip on Ace’s thighs. The sensation of his cock swelling like he could knot Ace outside of a mating cycle. He remembers Sabo’s face, lost in pleasure– growling, even– eyes scrunched tight, the flash of his white fangs in his open mouth.

He remembers thinking that it was so good. In the morning, though, Sabo was gone. He’d left a note on the nearest surface, in a rough scrawl: gone on mission

S

The total lack of specifics was somehow just like him, so Ace had huffed and climbed back into bed. Half-conscious, he’d searched the sheets for the elusive scent so often trapped beneath Sabo’s stuffy, high-necked outfits. And he tried to pull together soft little shreds of memory from the previous night. He hadn’t meant to ruminate. Just to check. Because no matter how he turned it over in his head, it all still seemed like a dream. And if it had happened, should it have happened at all? They never talked about it. Busy, busy days in the Revolutionary Army. Normal, normal brothers who were still learning each other a year after meeting again. Maybe Ace had made a mistake. All those vivid images were  tiny embers that refused to die– for weeks now, he was plagued with curiosity. Then shame. 

When they first met again, Sabo hadn’t reacted to his second sex beyond a small, almost comical lift of his brows. Ace had been equally cool about it on the outside, and he held himself to that, but the fact that Sabo was an unclaimed alpha had gotten under his skin.

If he was going to be honest with himself, it was posing a real fucking issue. 

Ace had always been on the more impulsive side, but he really thought he smoothed that out– if not in terms of danger, then at least when it came to getting along with people.

Of all people, Sabo should test him the least. 

And it sucks because he doesn’t, really. He and Ace still get on well. Better than well. What he's testing are Ace’s instincts.  Ace had always been able to ignore them in the past, so their constant pounding in his head had surprising power and he ended up blurting out stupid shit like never before. He hadn't even been that clingy when they were kids. He knew and yet the antsy energy remained, dunking his moods and driving him crazy.

“That’s a relief,” Ace says, throwing him his utmost charming, normal smile. Sabo doesn't seem to take it at face value– figures– but past the semi-concerned twitch of his brow, he manages not to fuss over it for about three seconds. 

“I’m glad, too. Are you… is everything good?”

“Everything's good,” Ace assures, a little too quick. The last thing he wants is Sabo looking at him like that.  “Go on, don't be late,” he urges good-naturedly, sending him off with a lazy wave. “You just let me know if you need any countries set on fire or anything, yeah?”

Sabo looks like he wants to ask something else, but they have another half-conscious second of conversation with their eyes. Sabo’s face crinkles slowly into a smile, and he leaves, taking part of Ace's peace of mind along with him. 

*

A week later, Ace visits Sabo in his room. “G’morning,” he yawns, hand on the doorframe. Sabo looks up from his desk– coffee in one hand, paper in the other.

“Ace. Good morning. Where have you been?” Sabo asks, casual enough. 

Ace closes the door behind him and leans against it, nearly clenching his teeth against the nerves in his gut. “Sphinx,” he replies cheerfully. “To visit Pops and Marco.”

Sabo turns away to set his newspaper down. “I see. How's Marco doing?”

“Good,” Ace replies. “He’s on top of things as usual. I just help out here ‘n there.”

The revolution lets him come and go as long as he's smart about it. Well, Sabo lets him come and go. Most of the world still thinks Portgas D. Ace is dead, and the RA thinks he should keep it that way until it's the right moment for a blaze of glory. 

No way that's happening until Ace gets his head screwed on straight again. But it's different when he has to be an omega about it. Show up at Marco’s door like a twitchy stray to ask what the hell his body is doing and how to make it stop. He's got a mind that’s too fond of bad ideas, but this sleep with Sabo or else one is throwing him for a loop. 

First of all, stop taking suppressants, Marco had said, way too coolly. You haven't had a mating cycle in– two years now?

Can't I just sleep with people and get it out that way?

Sorry, Ace. You have to pass a heat. 

Ace had gone quiet then, stomach dropping through the displeasure of it. 

You know, there's ways of making it easier, finding a safe partner…

No, I can handle it. I mean, I'll figure it out. Marco. Thank you.

So there it was. He'd tried to take a vacation from his unreasonable instincts only to find out they had to be confronted.

When he looked at his options, his brain became scrambled eggs. The anger in his heart demanded consolation and so he ended up right at Sabo’s door. 

“Want some?” Sabo asks.

It refreshes his attention, and Ace’s eyes fall upon the mug in Sabo’s elegantly gloved hand. That other kind of hunger stokes cinders inside of him. “Nah. Coffee's gross.”

Sabo smiles against the rim of the cup. “Useful, though.”

“How about we get some food in you down at the mess hall, too?”

Sabo raises his eyebrows. “Wouldn't turn that down. Give me a second.”

Ace glances around while the desk gets organized. “I also wanted to ask a favor.”

Sabo pauses where he's just stood up, and looks over, a little too keen for Ace’s liking. “Yeah?”

“See, I was wondering if I could…” he starts– then shakes his head, laughing at himself. He didn't learn to be polite for Sabo. He comes closer and clasps his hand firmly on Sabo’s shoulder, ignoring the low screech of desire that comes with it. “No, let me start over. Will ya lend me some of your clothes?”

He can't help the light pink flush on his own cheeks, but he's genuinely pleased at how Sabo’s face changes. 

He does the eyebrow lift thing, and his hazel-eyed stare becomes that much more sharp, like this simple question does what the coffee couldn't. Ace likes that he doesn’t look away. But then, he's also at a loss for words, unspoken or otherwise. If they'd never been separated, if Ace wasn't a tough guy and Sabo wasn't a child soldier, this would be an easy script to follow. 

Sabo glances down as if he has to examine what he's already got on. Those tough, tan pants that fall just right and the flouncy undershirt and fitted vest; Ace is vaguely amazed at how well put together he looks when the sun’s not even past the rocky horizon of Baltigo outside. 

“Lend you my clothes?” he repeats. “Here I thought you had such a problem with them.”

Well, yeah, they make Sabo look snooty as fuck and they seem as freeing as a straitjacket, but–

“I do, but nesting’s not about fashion, it's about scents.”

“Oh… that's what you mean?”

Now why is Sabo so alarmed, blushing like a village maiden?

“What?” Ace asks, pinning him with an edgy, somewhat challenging look. He crosses his arms, since Sabo looks like he wants to sink into the floorboards. “Why are you so surprised? Did you think I don't nest?”

“Well, no–”

“I nested even when we were kids. It was like the one normal thing I did.”

Sabo laughs haltingly. “I remember. It's just that you insisted it was for Luffy’s sake–”

“Yeah, we thought it might make him less whiny,” Ace reminds him. What a puzzle that had been. Pups raising pups– that Luffy turned out half-decent was a fucking miracle, and maybe Sabo had more of a hand in it than he did. The angel on his shoulder had a lot more sway when it spoke with Sabo’s voice. Makino had loved the idea of their nesting with the clothes she brought, though. Everyone loved Makino, so if she thought it was a good idea, Ace had figured it was. “I guess I just got in the habit, man. You don’t actually have to give me anything, don’t worry about it.” Bless his heart, Sabo doesn’t let this awful feeling in Ace’s stomach take root.

 “What? No, Ace, I didn’t say you couldn’t have any,” he says quickly, eyes as wide as a skittish woodland creature’s. “Please take something. It just surprised me. Nobody’s ever asked me before.” Ace sits with that for a few seconds. He shouldn’t feel happy that Sabo was deprived of meaningful pack bonds. But he feels light as air knowing that he’s Sabo’s first here, too. “Okay,” he says, grinning. When he catches sight of Sabo’s awkward, half-grimacing expression in turn, he snickers. “Could’ve just stolen some of your clothes to save us the awkward little chat, huh? You have so many, you wouldn’t have even noticed.” Sabo rubs his face between thumb and fingers, flustered. Another stilted laugh bubbles out of him. “No, I mean, sure, if you need something from me, you can have it,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Ace’s smile softens, but it feels like a supernova, a victory. He’s having trouble stripping his eyes away from Sabo, the genuine pleasure on his rosy face. “But I’m glad you asked.” Ace bites the inside of his cheek because he feels like he’s about to start purring and Sabo hasn’t even given him anything yet, hasn’t even touched him. He’s out of joint for sure. “No big deal. Used to nest with Luffy’s clothes, too,” Ace tells him. He wrinkles his nose. “He smells like meat and dirt, though.”

Sabo relaxes. “You love meat and dirt.” “I do,” Ace laughs. “Yeah, Lu smells weird as fuck and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I’ll take your gift too. Much appreciated.” And now that he’s got his consolation prize, Ace yearns to get the fuck out of there. Even if he’s curious about fucking Sabo again– just to check– his upcoming heat is something else. It’s going to be beyond terrible, so much so that he already feels like a sweaty human fireball when it comes to mind, and he honestly doesn’t want to think about it. There’s a reason he hasn’t stopped downing suppressants for two years. Sabo’s clothes and memories of nesting in their treehouse will have to do to ease his fraying nerves. Ace has been through worse, so he should be stronger. He should be stronger. He should pass his heat and then, if possible, have sex with Sabo once more just to get this heavy, cloying attraction out of his system– Ace claps his hands together. “That’s settled, then. Breakfast?”

He needs to do something with his body that isn’t standing here and taking in everything that makes Sabo Sabo. But his brother doesn’t budge or even glance at the door. “When do you need them by?”

 “Hm?” “I mean…” Sabo looks to the wall and back. “It’s soon, right? You stopped taking your suppressants.” Ace frowns, and twists his head over to sniff. “Damn, do I smell rank?” “No, no, you’re fine I think, as long as you don’t go anywhere too cramped or hot…” Sabo’s nose twitches; his mouth thins. “Are you going anywhere?” Ace’s eyebrows jump at the sudden steeliness in his voice. He fixes Sabo with a look on the border of teasing and genuine annoyance. “Sabo, have you never been around an omega or something?” “I have,” Sabo says, somewhat irritably. “Just… older ones, or… subordinates…” “Subordinates,” Ace repeats, teasing. “Well, it’s an army here, Ace, not exactly a family,” Sabo sighs, idly massaging one gloved hand with the other. “But now my brother is about to go through a cycle, so shouldn’t I make sure everything is fine? Are you going back to Sphinx for your heat?”

“Kinda thought I’d just stay here and bolt the door.” Sabo studies his face for a few seconds, then relents, throat bobbing. “Okay. Are you going to need… anything else?” “Well,” Ace starts. He puts his hands on his hips, rocks on his feet. “What’re you offering, Sabo?” Sabo swallows again. Ace almost hears it. Shit, it makes him want to pounce. “Oh.” He shows all his teeth. “I’m low maintenance, promise.” Sabo shakes his head, his smile completely lost on his face. Ace’s head gets foggy and hot and his mouth just starts moving.

“T’ tell the truth,” he admits, “it’s… gonna be a tough one to ride out since I haven’t had one for two years– that’s what Marco said. But it’s short notice, don’t really wanna go through the trouble of finding someone I can trust.” Despite knowing how terrible the heat is going to be– and it’s always worse than imagined– he can hardly think of anything that motivates him less than finding a viable partner out of the blue. The thought has worked like a boomerang, just bringing him memories of Sabo’s hands, arms, lips. Something tells him he shouldn’t trouble his brother with his cycle like this. Something else tells him that nothing in the world would be better. Like Sabo his brother and Sabo an alpha could be different things– and they’re not; Sabo is Sabo. 

Ace the brother and Ace the omega are different things, though, and by the four fucking seas, he should know to keep it that way.  “Are you serious?” Sabo asks. Again with the eyebrows raised way up, his stare both hawkish and disbelieving. Ace’s heart beats like a drum. This is a gamble, he knows. But he’d regret anything less. “Dead serious,” he drawls. Go big or go home, and he’s fearless. He understands very well that he can’t always get his way. Can’t make people want him. He gets that. They do or they don’t. It seemed like Sabo did that first time. In fact, it’s hard to imagine a world where Sabo doesn’t. Kind, loyal, capable, pretty-faced Sabo…

He holds up his hands. “If you don’t wanna, that’s that, but I remember last month– kinda– sorry ‘bout that–” “Don’t be sorry,” Sabo chokes out. Nice of him not to play dumb. Ace nods. “-- it was good! Real good. You’d be helping me out, if you’re up to it.” “Well–” Sabo falters. He shifts his jaw around, looks altogether way too serious, rigid. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Ace.” Ace freezes. “Yeah, you’re right,” his mouth says without his permission. Now his heart’s beating in a bad way. Why’d he say that? Sabo never became a pirate. Maybe he’s not built for that up-front, casual kind of thing– “It’s not that I wouldn’t,” Sabo says with that same hasty voice from earlier. Now Ace recognizes that it’s not an endearing fluster, but a quick course correction meant to coddle Ace, and fuuuuck, he really showed his hand at the worst time.  “I just think– I’m not very available– I couldn’t be any help–” Again Ace’s hand comes down on Sabo’s shoulder. Maybe a little harder this time. “Sabo,” he says heavily, and sucks a deep breath in through his mouth. Sabo shuts up for the duration of his exhale, too, and then Ace smacks his shoulder a few times, grounding them both. “It’s fine. It’s cool. You’re super busy. It’s only a heat. Just forget it.”

Sabo looks more horrified than placated. Damn. Ace is pushing a smile harder than ever before because what else is there to do? Yeah, he’s pissed, but he’d be a prick to take it out on Sabo. 

“Wait, I don't think you understand. It’s not you at all. I just think–” “Yeah, I got it. Not cool of me to spring it on you. Way too short notice. And it’s just a heat,” Ace repeats, also trying to convince himself. His stomach feels like it’s about to mutiny, empty itself of its fat 8am nothing. Like nausea lives there now. 

So Sabo doesn’t want him.

That doesn’t even feel entirely true– But Ace is not going to push it.  No regrets, but also damn him and his bad ideas. Sabo grabs his arm. “Wait, Ace–”

He feels overstimulated and shrugs Sabo off. It takes a few seconds to even formulate a response around his brain mysteriously exploding with something like starvation pains. Sabo looks somewhat heartbroken for him, which is worse. It’s just a heat. Sabo is his own person, obviously. His own person who could probably have anyone other than Ace, what was he even thinking. 

Stalling, Ace ruffles his own hair back into somewhat of a bedhead, and tamps down as hard as possible on what wants to come out. You don’t want me? 

Am I causing problems again?

 Can you just hold me for a while, please, please– “If you feel like you need someone for it, just–” “Damn, don’t put words in my mouth,” Ace manages. He turns on his heel. “‘M hungry. I want food in my mouth. Let’s go get breakfast, Sabo.”

*

They sit across from each other for breakfast in the mess hall. If he’s around, Ace eats there even if Sabo doesn’t; like this, he learns the names of all the dour-faced veterans and bushy-tailed idealists, and they also know not to bug him if he lands face first in his plate. That doesn’t happen today. Sabo sits across from him with that disconcerted look, frowning more than Ace has seen him do in a while– it’s irritating– and Ace stuffs his face like they did not have that conversation. Once his stomach is fuller and he feels stronger, strong enough to hold his instincts at arm’s length again, he reasons that it went as well as it could’ve. Of course he had to ask. Was he just not going to ask? Like a coward? And at least now he knows. Yeah, he feels like a popped bubble or a capsized skiff now, strangled by that rejection in a way he hasn’t been for years, but this time it’s just omega stuff kicked up to eleven. That’s why it feels so beyond his control. 

He’ll get all his hormones sorted with a heat, and then he’ll stop feeling like Sabo’s lost, horny puppy dog. Awesome plan. He slams his bowl down. Sabo’s been talking to some staffers– he really does have his sexy little gloved fingers in everything all the time– and he glances up at the noise. “... No seconds?” “I said I’d help train some recruits today,” Ace informs him, stacking his tray up. Sabo frowns. “Really?” “Yeah– quit that, stop worrying about me.” Sabo takes a deep breath and rubs his neck. “I’m not…” Ace laughs. “Get better at lying. Look, this isn’t my first rodeo, okay? Won't be so bad. And us, we’re fine.” “Of course we are,” Sabo says, and leaves the but hanging in the air.  For now, Ace is fine with that. He whacks Sabo’s shoulder. “See you around?” “Yeah…” 

And the back of Ace’s neck tingles, because he feels eyes on him until the moment he leaves the room. * A nice breeze and a few hours of physical exertion do him good, even if he still feels like a time bomb. At least he can make himself useful until pre-heat starts kicking his ass.  He does indeed see Sabo around. He’s hard to miss at his height, with his stature, having left the top hat behind on this relatively casual day. And casual though it is, he sees Sabo cross from one end of the compound to the other, passing the training yard, no less than four times in six hours. 

Maybe that's not unusual? Except that Sabo stops to look at him every time, arms crossed and not quite focused. 

He's not there when the bell for dinner rings, which raises some questions, but Ace pushes it out of mind. He focuses on the roasted turkey and how he's going to have to ask for heat rations from the cook, who he hasn't quite won over just yet. Maybe in the morning when he’s less sleepy.

He's about to pass out in his room when there's a knock at the door and it opens. Huh. A guy has to question the point of knocking, then. 

“Ace?”

Sabo closes it behind him with his foot, approaches Ace’s bunk– nest half-made and sadly lacking– and waits for him to stand up before holding out a folded set of clothes. Ace can't help the way he perks up at the gift. 

As he reaches for them, Sabo leans in and sniffs. Ace goes still without even meaning to, mechanically closing his hands around fabric. 

“You're getting close.”

“Hi to you, too, Sabo.”

Sabo leans back with a frown. “I really think you should stay in until it starts, Ace.”

“How are you? I'm doing fine, thank you for asking.” 

“Ace.”

His voice is pinched. Briefly Ace traces the shape of his scar again and sighs. 

“I think I've got at least a day or two left ‘til it really sets in and gets, y’know, smelly.”

At age 18 he'd fought off a navy squadron in pre-heat, even, and any pirate in a mile radius knew not to fuck with him. Surely the revolutionary army guys are as disciplined as pirates? 

Sabo apparently doesn't think so. His face darkens. It's tough for Ace not to grin, but he tries. He brings the clothes closer to his chest. Sabo's wearing a whole other prissy outfit– so the ones he brought must've been from today. Ace feels itchy with that knowledge. 

He remembers practically tearing his brothers’ clothes off of them when they were kids, so brashly insistent on tossing them into bed, and laughs a little. Sabo scolded him then, too. 

“I'm not joking, Ace.”

“Obviously not,” Ace says lightly. “I can handle a fever, Sab. You worried about my hot, irresistible pheromones?”

Sabo’s face loosens like a lightning flash before his mouth firms up hard. Ace has the sense he's stepping on something he shouldn't. 

“Yes,” he answers, huffs, and rolls his eyes. “You know, a lot of these people haven't mated in years. If it was anyone but you, I’d probably ask you to use the heat rooms in the infirmary.”

That doesn't make him feel special. He scowls. 

“Don't really wanna be cooped up in any room at all for long,” he edges out. The worst thing is that he trusts Sabo is looking out for him, in his own needlessly intense  way. 

“Please?”

Ace catches the inside of his cheek between his molars.

“I'm telling you, ‘s not even pre-heat yet,” he says. His gland hasn't swollen up, there's no miserable heaviness to his groin, and he still has more than enough energy. So much energy he almost feels like he wants to fight.  

He's so hopeless sometimes. He sits on the bed just to put some space between them, looks dourly at Sabo. 

Sabo's surveying the room. There's a few trinkets, misplaced socks, log pose on the standard issue dresser. He hasn't made a home here, but it's something. 

“I still need to get my hands on some water and food for it,” Ace continues, trying the rational angle.

Sabo shakes his head, tic in his jaw. “I'll take care of that,” he says, and his voice is gentle, reassuring. And Sabo always does what he says he'll do, so. 

Ace frowns though. He feels fidgety, full of tinder sparks. He rubs at his neck, eyes shut. If he hunkers down now, he's just going to be… alone… for a while. And usually that’s no problem.

It's not like this room is a prison cell, but he learned just how slow a few days can pass when there's no one to talk to. He sends another silent thank you to Jinbei for keeping him somewhat more sane for that, but his friends can't do anything about his heat.

It's just a heat.

Sabo says his name and Ace realizes he doesn't know how long he was staring at his lap just now. 

“Ace?” Sabo sounds worried. “You still have your baby snail?”

“…Huh? It's somewhere.” 

“Right. So– that's how we’ll–” Sabo gestures, though he seems confused by exactly what he's doing. He pauses, puts his hands on his hips, and smiles. “You just call me on that when your heat starts.”

Ace’s brow twitches. He's not gonna show that side of himself to Sabo just for shits and giggles. Sabo looks at him and cools down, mouth falling open, smacked with some realization.

“Oh. Right. Sorry, are you still–” Again with the gesturing. “I changed my mind about what I said earlier.”

Ace leans back on the bed, incredulous. His arms are taut behind him. Sabo takes in the line of his body, then looks up. Oh, he's serious. 

“Changed your mind?” 

Sabo nods, all sincere, unflinching eye contact. “Yeah. I can’t just walk around doing business as usual while you're suffering in here. You even told me it was going to be bad. Can't take it lightly.”

Ace hums. Shit, he's getting too used to being saved by his brothers. 

Shaking his head, he pats the stack of clothes. “Couldn't have led with that, chief?” 

Sabo shrugs, smiling helplessly. 

“Will you wait for me?” he asks, voice butter smooth. “I have to get some things ready, and then I’ll be one call away when you feel it coming on.”

“Koala says you never answer your snail.”

Sabo makes a face. “Not fair, she's making generalizations. I can't always answer the snail if I'm sneaking around or fighting–” he takes another breath, pauses. “-- and I won't be– I mean, I'll be right here.”

“So…” Ace looks down. “You want me to hunker down now and just wait for you?”

It seemed like the biggest drag in the fucking world two minutes ago. To himself, at least, he can't deny all the warm, fuzzy feelings dredged up. Sabo also seems happy. They're on the same page again.

“I can bring you some comics tonight?” he offers. Ace laughs. 

He's a world-class wanted man who spent years in the Grand Line, and Sabo thinks he still likes comics? 

He's not wrong. 

“Ehh… just bring me all the papers with stories about Luffy,” he suggests, grinning. The two of them are collecting like crazy. “And the ones about Pops if you got ‘em.”

Sabo smiles. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Excitement grows inside of him. There’s whole-body relief  for the first time in ages. He hates that it's not something he could've accomplished on his own, but– he knows better than that now. 

“Thanks, Sabo.”

Sabo nods. “I’ll take good care of you, Ace, I swear.”

Ace’s ears go hot. He chuckles, looking aside. “You don't gotta say shit like that.” 

“Well, I mean it–“

Ace crashes back into his bed, sprawled over clothes and extra blankets, head tilting back and eyes shut. “I trust you.”

Sabo walks a little closer into his peripheral vision. All serious-faced again. His chip-toothed, wild brat really grew up into a soldier. “Full disclosure, though,” he starts. “I've never shared a heat with anyone.”

“What a surprise,” Ace says breezily. Haha, looks like he's gonna be Sabo’s first again. 

 Sabo doesn't even catch the dig for what it is. Ace clears his throat. “You'll be fine. When was your last rut?” 

“Uh. Not too long ago, actually.” 

Ace looks up at the ceiling, considering that. It means that Sabo’s alpha instincts likely won’t be so intense. Ace isn't sure how he feels about it. He’ll be burning off two years of suppressed heats and also the traumatic stress, according to Marco. 

He worries his lip between his teeth, glances over. “Did ya spend it with anyone?”

He doesn't know why he asked that. 

Sabo sort of stares into the corner of the bed. “Not… really…”

Ace laughs even though he wants to hit something suddenly. “What does that mean?”

“I mean, I didn't,” Sabo says with more certainty. Ace trusts that– and it's not his business, he reminds himself. Sabo’s free, all they ever wanted.  “I didn't share it with anyone. Full disclosure again, I don't like how I get during my ruts.”

Interesting. What does that mean? Ace tongues at the corner of one of his fangs and considers asking. 

He sits up, hunched over his knees. “Sabo. You will be fine. If anyone’s gonna embarrass themselves it's me.” Now that he thinks about it, that's pretty likely. His head dips as if the force of gravity hit it all at once, and he rubs the base of his skull.  “Sorry. I wouldn't bug you with this if it wasn't… believe me, it's just…” 

Something gets caught in his throat. 

“No, Ace, you can always ask.” Sabo is fast to sit down next to him. “I want you to ask.”

“Hey…” 

“You’re my brother,” Sabo says firmly. 

Ace can’t do anything but laugh. That really was one of the best ideas he ever had. He could get half-drunk on it at any time. He lifts his arm for Sabo to cross. Sabo returns the echo of their surprisingly idyllic childhood, then settles back into place, looking rather mindful of… something. That’s the thing with Sabo. He always seems to have a thousand things on his mind, but you can’t guess when or even if they’re going to come up. Ace leans over and nudges his shoulder. “I’d do the same for you if you had a bad cycle,” he swears, “you know that, right? Drop anything to take your knot.”

Sabo’s shoulders shake with his laughter, though it winds down fast and thin. His eyes flit away. “Dude, stop.”

Ace grins, leaning over. 

“Huh, maybe it is starting early…” “Ace, I mean it, please,” Sabo coughs into his hand and then stares at Ace so intently that any playfulness snuffs out. “I need to be prepared for your heat, as much as possible.” Ace blinks a few times. There’s an absurd amount of pomp and circumstance around this. It’s embarrassing, humbling– unexpected. He scoots closer and slaps his hand on Sabo’s back, hard. “Don’t treat it like a chore,” he says cheerfully. “You can have fun, too! I trust ya, and I’m not fragile. I’ve been working on my haki, I could probably kick your ass now–” “That’s not what I mean either,” Sabo says, ruefully shaking his head, but he doesn’t elaborate and Ace is getting sleepy. Sabo pats his thigh and stands up, winding an arm back to loosen up. “Alright, I’ll take care of reading material and the food ‘n water. You’ve got the clothes for nesting. Anything else?” “Nope,” Ace says. He said he was low maintenance and he means it. He shoots finger-guns. “Just you and that dick!” Sabo snorts. Ace tracks his movement and finds himself standing up, walking along to the door. Restless, suddenly. “Good night, Ace.” “Night, Sabo.” They stare at each other. Desire comes to life on the tip of Ace’s tongue. His skin prickles with it.

 Sabo is helping him. It’s too much to ask for anything else– especially not after all of Ace’s insistence that he didn’t even have his pre-heat yet. This isn’t need. Not his health. It’s just wanting. Inexplicable, childish wanting. Now that he’s going, Ace wants him to stay. With his hands, which touch Ace so easily; and his tough, pretty smile; and his scent, like the high canopies of the forest stretching toward the sun. In this stuttering, overborne moment, for once, Ace is unable to get his head around the feeling they’re sharing. There’s a huff– it could be either of them– and then Sabo nods, turns the knob, and leaves. Ace waves. Stands there, processing. When nobody and nothing else so much as crosses in front of his room in the next few minutes, Ace free falls into his privacy– into that clunky bed that’s so much more agreeable when arranged to soothe his instincts. Sabo’s offerings are washed in his scent. Ace buries his face in them. His heat is going to colossally thrash him this year. Now he’s stuck inside this tiny, sterile room for a while, too. And he is so, so lucky. The longer he has his nose to Sabo’s shirt, the luckier he feels.

It’s unfair of him to want more.  -

Sabo comes in the morning with a box of newspapers and a tray of breakfast. He has enough sense to have brought enough for both of them to eat together– they make room to do so on the floor. It’s surprisingly cozy. Ace cheerfully gnaws on toast and downs orange juice while pawing at the pages, eyebrows raised at this or that headline. He always grins whenever he sees “straw hat” emblazoned on the front pages. Sabo has the same enthusiasm, finding Ace first thing to show him whenever something new comes up. It’s been a little while, though.  “D’you think he’s okay,” Ace asks, mouth half-full of apple as he holds up one of the more recent ones. Sabo looks up, slurps the rest of a ham slice into his mouth, pauses. “... Of course he is.” “Uhuh.” Another bite. “Why’d you have to stop and think about it?” “He’s a little reckless, isn’t he?” Sabo notes lightly. “But you said yourself that it always works out for him.” He did say that. It does seem a little suspect though. Ace runs his hand back through his hair again, frowning. He knows Luffy is much bigger and stronger than he used to be. He’s reliable, in his own way. His friends will take care of him. All things that Ace has thought to himself any number of times, with increased frequency in the last few weeks. He can’t wait to start walking himself back from the edge. 

“Hey, it’s perfectly natural for an older brother to worry,” says Ace. “Sure is. Do you wish he was here?” “Yeah, a little,” Ace admits, since it’s Sabo– then he immediately thinks better of it. “Well. No, he should be out there becoming King of the Pirates, yeah?”

One-handed, he shifts some of the pages aside to find a picture of Luffy– well, a picture of Luffy’s wacky limbs splayed across the sky in some foreign land. How can you not root for him? When he glances up, Sabo’s smiling just the same as he is. “Yeah, of course,” Sabo replies. “You know… you know we can call him, right? Well, call the Sunny to talk to him.” Ace huffs. “What’s he gonna say? It’ll be the same as always. That kid....” He takes a deep breath. “We’ll see him when we see him.” “Alright, well, if I call him I’ll say you’re busy–” “Hey, if you’re gonna call him anyway, that’s different–” Sabo snickers. Ace starts cleaning up, annoyed again that Sabo has to play errand boy for him until his heat starts kicking his ass. “How are you feeling?” Sabo asks, setting the box of newspapers aside. “Fine–” Ace pauses when he feels Sabo’s bare hand on his forehead. He squints at him critically, an incredulous joke on his lips, but again, Sabo’s so intense at random times. It’s less work to just let him tire himself out. “You know,” Ace reminds him, gently lowering his hand, “you can’t really check my temperature ‘cause of the whole–” Sabo almost squawks when Ace makes use of his logia from the shoulders up, torn into red and orange flames licking the still air, then settling back into flesh. Sabo blinks at him, annoyed, while Ace gets his laugh in. 

ummmm ur honor i love them. anyway yeah the idea is like. ace in heat is very Not low maintenance and wait. this:

Ace in heat was boldly confrontational, glaring at Sabo like that.

 He started up with I’m sorry only to realize that Ace was channeling all that mysterious ire at his mouth– or, no, at the dull, thin bars of the alpha muzzle strapped over it. 

“You going to keep the gloves on, too?” Ace asked scathingly.

“Do you want me to?”

“No.”

instead of finishing the rest of this fic can't i just.. RP it or smth...

[anystalker707]

Playing with fire (amab version)

Pairing: Vinsmoke Niji x [gn, amab] Reader Kinktober prompt: Hate fucking + Semi-public Tags: He's very vocal / Against a wall / Some insults, nothing serious [afab version]

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

          “You are so useless, such a lowlife, that you don’t know how to act at parties. Ridiculous pirate.” Of course, he had to approach you with insults already, mouth twisted as he held a glass in hand.

Niji had a pattern whenever he approached you, including insulting the fact you were a pirate and/or anything you did, sometimes your appearance. It was like having an inverse Sanji around, which wasn’t exactly the best experience, but you couldn’t do a lot other than wait for your crew to get you after the Vinsmoke family managed to get their hands on you. Honestly, the Germa Kingdom was so boring and annoying. Death would’ve been more accessible.

Apparently, there was some gathering going on in that shitty castle, and you were obligated to be around—they knew you wouldn’t run away since you were in a place you knew nothing of, alone, but they still wanted to know where you were. You chose to sit on the sill of one of the many windows in the room, away from the attention of most of them. It felt like you were wasting time; you could be training with Zoro, cooking with Sanji, playing cards with Usopp and Chopper, but no, you were just sitting there and looking out the window of some ridiculous castle.

“I’m talking to you,” Niji reinforced as he stepped closer.

You were bored with it already, sighing as you looked up at him. “What do you want me to do? I don’t wanna argue, nor do I have the energy to prove you wrong.”

Niji’s eyebrows furrowed, and you could imagine him giving you a look of disdain from behind his pathetic glasses. Did he know he didn’t exude half of the power he thought he had? None of the three did, actually. You couldn’t believe you were caught by the goddamn Power Rangers.

“You’re truly stupid,” Niji muttered with a sigh. “With that bounty, being part of that crew, I thought you’d be better than that.”

“If I’m such a bad company, then maybe you should try keeping your distance from me,” you answered in the same beat, almost cutting him off. It surprised him, in a way he couldn’t even react in time. You snatched the glass from his hand and took a sip from the drink. At least it was good—maybe they spent their money on something worth it. They had some booze you’d like to share with Zoro if he were there.

“Who do you think you are?” Niji reached for the glass again, but you stood up and took a step back.

“Pirates will act like pirates,” you said, just to annoy him.

He growled as he stepped after you, stopping in frustration once you downed the rest of the drink. “You—”

“What will you do?” You raised your eyebrows, opening a window and tossing the glass out of it. His hand wrapped around your wrist tightly, but it didn’t even intimidate you. “Kill me? Yeah, you can’t. You gotta put up with me, at least until my crew is here, idiot. You must think you’re so cool with that damn stupid hair—”

“We can just find another way around the situation if you die,” Niji said as he cornered you. Maybe you wished you hadn’t chosen to sit in an empty part of the wide room, but you weren’t exactly opposed to a change in the boring routine there. “They won’t even know you’re dead until they get here.”

“And then what?” You raised your eyebrows. “You’ll get away by disappointing your father? I bet that stupid redhead would even tell him something like ‘I told you so’.”

Niji’s temper—or at least his behavior towards you—was a little more different from his siblings’. Reiju and Yonji didn’t seem particularly worried about you, but they didn’t do a lot when seeing you either; Yonji just made a comment trashing the Strawhats in general. Ichiji wasn’t nice, but he wasn’t responsive to your reactions; he decided that he was superior to you and just acted on it, not paying attention to ‘some pirate’. Niji, however, would attack you and get more intense when you responded, something almost childish, but that built a specific tension between you two. Was it just impulsive? Or did he enjoy it? You liked playing with it, either way. He wasn’t the priority to the others, at the moment, so he couldn’t actually harm you.

“You’re acting up a little too much for someone like you,” Niji muttered, but it was interrupted by a gasp when you stepped forward, bumping your chests together, and he was the one with his back against the wall instead.

A small chuckle escaped your lips. “You don’t know me. All you’ve seen is my bounty posters. When my crew gets here, if I get an actual opportunity to fight you…”

Niji scoffed. “I’d like to see it happen.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a small step back, but Niji immediately pushed you back by your shoulders, making you stumble back into one of the dark halls that connected to the main room. There was a turn before you were practically pinned to the wall again. It was relatively dark—the only light that came in was from outside a nearby wide window—and quiet, away from the main room. The whole attention was there and by the main halls, so it was practically deserted.

“Now what? What are you gonna do?” Niji asked before you could.

You clicked your tongue. “You’re so annoying!”

Niji started cursing as you tugged on his shirt to pull him away, resulting in the two of you pacing back and forth depending on how the strength imbalanced between you. It was a little annoying because he wasn’t doing anything other than pushing you around, so you decided to just let go instead of fighting against him.

Something incoherent came from Niji, breath hitching in his throat as he managed to pin you to the wall—it knocked the air out of you a little since your back hit the wall more force than you expected since you’d given up suddenly. When he pinned you to the wall, however, one of his legs slipped between yours.

…Were you imagining things? Maybe he didn’t notice, breathing fanning over your face as he still panted, smelling like the booze from earlier.

“Niji,” you muttered.

“What?” His voice was sharp. A little pathetic.

You pondered the results of what you wanted to say, silent for a moment, feeling his grip tightening on you. Well, there was nothing to lose with an idiot like that.

The way you shifted made Niji stiffen a little bit—his eyes probably widened behind his glasses. Your thigh was right between his legs, too, pressing right to his crotch, and now moving against it.

“If you wanted a fuck, you could’ve asked for one,” you said with a chuckle, observing him intently. It was a shame it was so dark, and you couldn’t see his face that much.

“Don’t you—” Niji fell silent as you moved your leg a bit, breath hitching in his throat and replacing his words with a whimper at how your thigh pressed harder against him this time. It was a two-edged sword, of course, since he had a leg right between yours as well.

“Shit,” you whispered. You hadn’t meant that to feel good for you as well.

On the other hand, Niji grinned at your reaction. He leaned in lightly, but your hand grasped around his neck to hold him a safe distance away from you as you glared at him. It probably didn’t have as much power as you intended it to have, given the darkness, but it still was something.

“How about I ask you for one now, hm?” Niji whispered, breath hot against the side of your face as he tugged on your shirt a little. You still held his neck, tightening your grip a little—did he whimper because of the discomfort or because of enjoyment? Fuck. Things weren’t supposed to go that way nor make you feel that way.

“I hate you,” you whispered.

Niji grinned more. “That’s the fun.”

There was barely time to react before his lips were pressed to yours. The kiss was a little forceful and harsh, but it wasn’t bad. Groans escaped your throat with how much teeth he added, biting and tugging on your lips with his teeth as if insisting a reaction out of you.

“Goddammit,” you whispered, tightening your grip around his neck until he gasped again, so you could finally keep up with the kiss. You tried to keep it a little superficial, threatening to let your nails sink into his neck whenever he started deepening the kiss or nibbling on your lips again. He became more vocal with it, whimpering a lot more, even moaning when your leg moved between his again. Was he needy?

You shifted, exchanging positions with Niji to press him to the wall this time. His hair brushed against your face as you kept kissing him—it was easier to control the kiss by keeping his head to the wall—, and it was far from nice.

“That hair of yours is ridiculous,” you muttered, moving to kiss down the side of his neck which his hair didn’t fall to. Your hand held mostly under his jaw now, tilting his head back.

Niji groaned, his hands finding your waist and gripping with more force than necessary. “Ridiculous? Watch your mouth!”

“Shut the fuck up!” You said sharply before giving him a sharper bite on his neck. It made him whimper, of course, but he did fall silent. “Good,” you muttered, pulling back for a moment. “Maybe you should be the one to watch your mouth, y’know?”

He twisted his lips a little, but he couldn’t do a lot before the hands on his shoulders were pushing him down until he was on his knees, right in front of you. Since you hadn’t moved, he was practically trapped between your crotch and the wall. You wished you could see his eyes, without those glasses, but the surprised expression on his face was pleasing either way.

“Is that mouth of yours only good for insulting others?” You undid your pants—they’d been uncomfortably tight for a while, so you couldn’t help the groan that escaped your lips as soon as you lowered your pants and boxers. You stepped back to give Niji some space, but your cock still brushed against his cheek as you did so.

“I…” Niji interrupted himself, cheeks red as he slowly reached to hold on to your thighs. He hummed softly, letting his tongue run between his lips to wet them.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, placing a finger under his chin to hold his head up. “Open wide, prince.”

Niji’s lips parted open, tongue out, ready to receive your cock as you guided it into his mouth with your free hand. The warm, wet feeling made you gasp, letting out a moan when Niji actually closed his lips around you. His hands adjusted around your hips before he actually started moving his head—he moved slowly at first, experimenting, and when he saw that he could actually snatch moans from you, he hollowed his cheeks.

A sharp gasp came from you, with Niji’s actions—his fingers sank into your hips as he moved his head, putting more energy into it. He only took a pause as he slowly took you deeper, making your tip reach the back of his throat, before he swallowed around you and pulled away agonizingly slowly. He wrapped a hand around the base to hold your cock in place while he tongued your tip, easily finding a spot under it that made you double over, with a forearm on the wall before you and hand tight around his shoulder.

“Fucking hell!” You moved to tug on the hair on the back of his head until he pulled away from you. “I won’t last like that!”

“Weak,” Niji said simply, licking his lips. He was messy.

“I’ll show you who’s…” Your words turned into thoughts as you motioned for him to stand up. He did so, kissing your neck as soon as he was on his feet. As much as you wanted to argue, you just let him be for a while, enjoying the nibbling and sucking on your neck while your hands worked on unbuttoning his pants.

Niji’s pants and boxers were off only one of his legs, just as he only had a shoe on by now. The urgency couldn’t have you two affording removing your clothes carefully. Your pants were just low enough, even.

It didn’t take a lot of struggle to have Niji up in your arms, legs around your torso, given how eager he also seemed about all of this. He tried his best not to pull away from the kiss he brought you into as soon as he’d ‘undressed’ himself.

Both of you gasped once you slipped in, your cock still wet from the way he’d blown you, but it still met a little of resistance when you pushed in. It took a few thrusts until you could fuck him properly, but he’d been moaning ever since you’d first pressed to his entrance. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, nails digging into your upper back through your shirt as he held on to you, keeping pressing pecks to your lips. Did he like kissing that much?

The way Niji’s thighs were smooth under your hands made you wonder if the vanity ran in the bloodline. Your fingers sank a little into the flesh before you changed the position. It took you a little of struggle, but you finally managed to slip your arms under his legs, elbows under his knees as you held him against the wall, and the new position easily allowed you to go deeper.

A louder sound escaped Niji’s lips when you started a faster pace, snapping your hips against his.

“You’re loud,” you muttered to him, words slipping between heavy breaths. “Shut the fuck up, unless you want anyone to catch you. What if one of your brothers happened to run into us, hm? Seeing you get banged by some pirate you guys captured,” you breathed into his ear.

Somehow, your words only made Niji more vocal. He clenched around you, gummy walls pulling your cock deeper inside him, practically milking you. You let out a throaty moan, letting your thrusts get harsher. If you two get caught, the trouble would be his, either way. Loser.

“You’re good,” you whispered into his ear, “but you know who’s better? Sanji does such a good job.”

Niji hissed, clenching around you again as his nails scratched across your back. “Shut up,” he said, voice shaky and stuttering, and you could feel his thighs tensing up more under your hands. “I just—” He hissed when you slammed harder into him, getting impossibly tighter around you.

“You never stop being pathetic,” you muttered, voice tight.

Both of you stopped talking, letting that relative silence permeate the next minutes as something ticked. The growing warmth in your lower stomach was the same that Niji felt, growing closer with each thrust.

A small whine came from Niji once you took a pause, adjusting your grip lightly, just to be cut off by a gasp and another loud moan the moment you started moving your hips again, using the last bit of energy you had to fuck a little harsher into him.

Niji wrapped his arms tighter around you, breath hot on your neck as he moaned, and with a few more sloppy thrusts, you were cumming deep inside him. You kept fucking him through your high, spreading the cum over his walls neatly, until you finally pulled away and let him down to his feet. His legs were a little wobbly, weak with being fucked so nicely like that, so he had to hold on you while you wrapped your hand tightly around his cock, fisting it until he finally came all over your hand.

There barely was time to react before your hand was pressed to his mouth, not giving Niji much of a choice in his disoriented state aside from licking your hand clean. With your head not so fuzzy anymore, both of you slowly coming out of that bubble, you could notice the marks on Niji’s neck even in the dark.

“Heh… good luck with your neck.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[melonba11s]

This Is You On Drugs (Strade/MC BTD fanfic)

Strade doesn’t like drugs because they can change the way someone acts… But what if he shows them later how they acted?

Contains: Drugging, Filmed Violence, Canon typical violence, blunt force mutilation, gore gender neutral MC, Strade.

Food and drink in Strades house were safe. Strade wasn’t the type to poison people, it was too quick and didn’t give him time to see any reactions he craved.

Drugs would change or inhibit how you reacted too much. He wanted you to be yourself. A true king of encouraging self love and confidence.

So food and drink was safe. Water from the filtered jug in the fridge was safe. The cheese was safe. The cut up bits of steak were safe.

You had no reason to not eat in his house. If you tried to starve yourself he’d eventually force you to eat.

So when you woke up in the middle of the afternoon with a pounding headache, dry mouth, and chronic dizziness you just had to believe you were sick.

You had to be really sick. That was why you couldn’t remember falling asleep in the first place, or even waking up in the morning. You must have slept through the night and well into the day.

Getting up was hard. Your legs felt like cement. But you needed water. Your mouth was so dry.

Stumbling down the hallway, groaning in pain the entire way. It felt like your head was detached from your body, floating on its own towards the kitchen.

The light of everything was too much. You were forced to shield your eyes just to make it to the kitchen, squinting so much your eyes were almost closed.

Actually closing your eyes as you opened the fridge as the cold air hit your face, along with the fluorescent bulb’s shine feeling more like a needle to your skull.

Reaching in, blind, but knowing where that water was, you curled your fingers around the plastic handle.

“Don’t drink that.” A sudden voice, the fridge was closed forcefully. You looked up at Strade, he had a smile on his face… Like he was in on some joke you didn’t get. You rubbed your eyes, frowning.

“I’m thirsty.” you said, a fact made obvious by how dry your voice sounded. A chuckle, and he was pressing something cold into your hands.

You looked down. Bottled water. He never bought bottled water. That’s what the filter on the jug was for.

You didn’t ask questions, you cracked it open and began to chug it. You had been really thirsty. You felt better with every gulp of water.

Strade kept his eyes on you, his grin widening the entire time.

“Feeling better?” he asked, as you finished off the bottle. You nodded.

“Head still hurts… I think I’m sick.” an arm around your shoulders,

“Bet you need some rest then, huh? Come on, sit on the couch with me. You can relax there while I show you something…” He was pushing you towards the living room, still grinning widely.

“Strade…” your voice came out in a whine. “Can’t you show me later? I’m tired…” nothing sounded better than crawling back into bed, maybe with another bottle of water or two.

“Oh come on, Schatzi.” He sounded almost hurt. “This won’t take long!”

You sighed, giving up. Nothing would convince him otherwise when he got pushy like this.

He was admittedly gentle with you, guiding you to the couch, sitting you down against the throw pillows after making sure he fluffed them up a bit.

The TV was on, but for now the screen was black. Strade got comfortable next to you, arm around you again, leaning against you. Despite how terrifying he was, his solid warm form was a comfort you indulged in without restraint. Loving how soft and comfortable it felt to be nestled against him.

He lifted the remote, and pressed play. The screen fizzled a bit, then the picture became clear.

The basement. You jerked in his grip. One of his homemade films.

You definitely couldn’t handle this kind of thing right now.

“Strade-“ You began to protest.

“Hush. Just watch.” he shushed you, smiling at the screen.

A woman was on the ground, slumped against the pole. The camera moved towards her, accompanied by footsteps. It hit you that Strade was actually holding the camera. He usually had it up on a tripod-

“Okay Schatzi! Are you ready?”

You couldn’t recognize the voice responding at first.

“Yeeeaaaahhhh” They dragged out the word, ending it with a bit of a giggle. “You sound like… an ant.” The camera moved over.

It was you. You were wavering on the spot, eyes unfocused. A silly smile plastered on your face.

“What?” the you that was sitting on the couch began to speak. No, that couldn’t be you. You would never stand like that, talk like that, hold a giant sledgehammer like that.

The woman on the floor was beginning to beg, scream, writhe in place.

The Strade behind the camera began to laugh, backing up a bit.

“Go ahead then! Just like I told you! It’s just a fun game, like the ones you play with Ren.”

You sat in fear, disbelief, as you lifted the sledgehammer and began to approach the woman on the floor.

“No.” You said as you began to lift the hammer up. The you on film didn’t hear you, or maybe they just didn’t care.

You could only watch in horror as the hammer came down.

Ankle shattering, skin ripping apart. No. You shouldn’t be strong enough to do that much damage. As the woman on the floor let out an ear piercing scream, blood splattering across the floor, staring at her mangled foot in horror.

“Stop!” You yelled, trying to get up, to turn off the TV. Strade kept a grip on you, his spare hand was unbuckling his belt.

“Don’t be like this, Schatzi.” His voice was in your ear. “You looked so happy, it was almost worth the price of the drugs.”

Drugs. Drugs that he hated. It made you stiff with fear.

Drugs that had altared you, made you not yourself. The kind of thing he never wanted.

You could only watch as the you that was apparently hopped up on some horrid mix began to lift the hammer again.

Kneecap was next, the sound of bone splintering, skin turning into ground beef, your stupid fucking voice continuing to giggle.

“That’s… funny…” The you on camera knelt down, shoving your fingers into the freshly destroyed leg. How easily they slid into the torn tendons and pulverized muscle.

You pulled out a shard of something. The gross sound of wet suction and the woman’s breath hitching between her screams made you want to vomit.

“Uh oh…” You sounded like a complete dunce, looking at the shard of bone in your hand. “I broke it…”

You seemed to be referring to the piece of patella in your palm, staring at it. You dropped it onto the floor, now looking at the camera (or perhaps Strade?) in dissapointed.

“I wanted… Something to give you.” The woman at your feet was breathing heavily. Strade was laughing.

“It’s okay, Schatzi. You’ve given me so much already.” He was cooing, and you hated how it made your slack face light up in a grin.

The woman on the ground seemed to find her voice now.

“YOU’RE A MONSTER.” She wasn’t looking at Strade. She was looking at you.

She was right.

“A SICK FUCK.” Your smile had dropped now, using the hand that wasn’t on the hammer to cover an ear. It made your heart pound, watching this.

The you on camera shaking your head as she continued to yell insults at you. It was comforting, knowing that even while not in your right state, you didn’t want to be called those things-

“SHUT UP.” The drugs were speaking. They had to be. “YOU’RE GIVING ME A HEADACHE.”

No, the drugs were. Realize that. You were begging yourself to realize that as the hammer rose again. The woman was still yelling.

“STOP.” The both of you yelled at the same time. You were frozen in place, but they weren’t. The hammer swung down.

Wet thump, horrid cracking, teeth coming loose. A scream of pain turning into a wet gargle as blood and muscle filled her throat.

Another swing, an eyeball popping open, the inside oozing all over her face as her skull caved in. There were no more screams.

Another swing. Brain exposed, flying from the safety of the cranium, hitting the wall and floor.

You were breathing heavily as you dropped the hammer. Legs shaking, hands twitching, you were looking down at yourself in horror.

“Oh no…” The you on camera said, before looking back at Strade. “I got… really dirty.”

Your front caked in shards of bone, blood, bits of gore and more. You doubled over on the couch, retching.

Strade was laughing next to you, laughing on camera. It echoed and bounced, it was everywhere.

You were dirty. You were filthy. You were diseased.

Strade had turned off the TV as you sat there, rocking back and forth, gagging and trying not to vomit.

“You put on a good show, Schatzi!” He sounded genuine, rubbing your back.

And you hated how it made you feel just a bit better right now.

[smytherines]

do you have any hcs for precanon curtwen? how they got together, what they were like etc

Oh for sure I do!

I think they were probably paired up together for missions over the span of a couple of years, and had all this romantic & sexual tension that they convinced themselves was all in their heads, before they actually got together. They had long enough to build a friendship, a partnership, and they're both afraid enough of the consequences (both personally and professionally) that they don't want to even consider making a move.

I always imagine it as something goes wrong on a mission, someone gets hurt, or maybe they have a spectacular success and are high on adrenaline, and Curt impulsively kisses Owen because hey, this guy is attractive and Curt has a crush. Owen is just kinda stunned by it, and Curt pulls away like "oh shit he's gonna kill me," but really Owen has been infatuated with Curt for ages and just assumed Curt wasn't interested.

I could see Owen having an inkling that Curt is into men, but assuming that if someone as cocky and confident as Curt hasn't made a move, it must mean he isn't interested. So Owen has just been pathetically pining for him. I think Curt has been pining too, but because he just kind of assumes in that young closeted queer way that nobody else is "sick" like him, that confiding in anyone will get him in trouble. And in my headcanon, Owen is bisexual, so perhaps he's had affairs with women and Curt assumes that means he isn't interested in men.

Anyways, I love thinking about them in a relationship, even though it breaks my heart. Because realistically Curt and Owen probably only saw each other a handful of times per year, so everything they manage to build together is based on these little stolen moments. I think they start casually hooking up, killing time on missions, but it very quickly becomes something more. It almost has to. You don't get a lot of time to date as a spy, and even less as a gay spy. So even just the act of repeatedly hooking up by default sorta makes them the most important relationship in each other's lives- especially because they were such good friends first.

I personally don't think pre-fall curtwen were as toxic as a lot of people think. I don't really see any evidence of that in A1P1. I mean they both seem to be little freaks who get off on danger and violence, and I'm sure constant distance and secrecy and danger took their toll, but for me A1P1 shows two men who love and respect each other, even if they bicker and mess with each other.

One thought I keep coming back to is that they sneak off for movie dates, mostly because I love classic films and get really into imagining them reacting to the many gay subtext films of the early 50s. I think they sit in the darkest part of the theater and only their legs are touching, and maybe if there's nobody there one of them will put his hand on the other's thigh and it's almost a real date.

I think they'll go to bars- not underground gay bars specifically, but bars where a lot of queer people just happen to congregate, and sit at a booth or a table, and drink together and find little ways to be discreetly affectionate.

I think Curt thinks it's adorable that Owen is a kind of a nerd, and tries his best to pay attention when Owen goes on a ramble or a rant about boring tech stuff (but gets bored and starts trying to make out with him instead). I think Owen is fascinated with how Curt's mind works, how he's seemingly so chaotic and disorganized, but in a crisis he is absolutely cool and calm and comes up with clever, creative solutions for problems.

I think they loved each other, they knew each other so well that one could barely finish a sentence before the other picked it up. I think they were a bit codependent, and the distance started to gnaw away at them towards the end, but they were each other's favorite person in the world. They trusted each other more than anyone else on Earth. They missed each other desperately, but tried their best to put on a brave face every time they had to part. I think they sent each other coded love notes and presents and found excuses to request each other on missions. I think some of their pillow talk included imagining little scenarios where they could run off together and never have to be apart again, and it starts as a fun thing but gradually gets sadder and sadder for them as they realize how impossible that would be.

(That's all I have time for right now but I might pick this back up later)

[timeagainreviews]

Dance, Magic Dance: The Church on Ruby Road

With the return of Russell T Davies we were given a “new” Doctor Who logo with their revamped take on the classic diamond logo. The diamond logo is everywhere now. Books, web content, episodes, and more are stamped with it. Everything except for the “Doctor Who: The Collection,” blu-rays which continue to display the Jodie Whittaker era logo. The reason for this is simple- spines. Most people display books and physical media with their spines facing outward. If you were to change the font on those spines, they lose their uniformity. For some people, that shit is infuriating. It’s not just Doctor Who fans either. The infamous plastic Homer head box for The Simpsons’ sixth season DVD is still controversial. If Doctor Who fans can get upset about a blu-ray spine, then imagine how they might react if you were to change the Saturday time slot to a Sunday. Or even more brazenly, imagine changing the Christmas episode to a New Year's Eve episode. Should be super easy, barely an inconvenience. Right?

It had been six years since Doctor Who last aired a Christmas special. While I have come to appreciate the importance of a Christmas episode within the fandom, I argued in favour of the change at the time as I am not the biggest fan of Christmas. I have history with the holiday, like many of us do. New Year’s Eve also pertains to time, so it made some sense. And for as cheerful as they tend to be, Doctor Who Christmas specials were becoming a graveyard of regenerating Doctors. I get that Christmas is about renewal, but watching the Doctor die on Christmas isn’t my jam, especially if they’re surrounded by a bunch of tacky Christmas decor. Only one other time do we see a freshly regenerated Doctor at the beginning of a Christmas episode and that was David Tennant in  “The Christmas Invasion.” It also consistently ranks as the best of the RTD Christmas specials. Though I believe “The Church on Ruby Road,” may soon challenge that.

Before I get into it, I want to preface this by saying I was on my third flute of Buck’s Fizz by the time the episode started. I don’t usually drink alcohol when I’m about to watch a film or TV show. I once went to see Terry Gilliam’s “The Brothers Grimm,” while drunk and it was a bad time on two fronts. But this was Christmas, I was feeling a bit jolly. I only mention this because I may be a bit fuzzy on the details. It’s funny then that the details are another reason I’m feeling a bit fuzzy. Last night, when I should have been asleep, I was researching runes, glyphs, and symbols in an attempt to identify the symbols drawn on the Doctor’s fingernails. That’s how intriguing this new era of Doctor Who is- it’s got me doing research into the early hours of the morning.

Where I first noticed the symbols drawn on Ncuti’s fingernails was in the below promotional image. They looked like some fan had put them there, but when I saw that it was official, I felt a stir inside. Part of me mourned for the kids who have parents like my mom who would see those symbols, call them Satanic and forbid them from watching Doctor Who. The other part of me questioned their function. I know Ncuti Gatwa is an avid follower of the zodiac, so I was braced for it to be that simple, but I had hoped it was something more. In my research, I had trouble finding an exact match for the two clearest runes in the picture. The character on his ring finger looks a bit like the number three in Psalter Pahlavi or like something from Linear A. While the crescent shape on his middle finger looked a bit like the alchemical symbol for platinum or the zodiac symbols for the Sun and Moon. When you’re a time and space travelling alien, your zodiac and table of elements must reach beyond our solar system. They could be alchemical symbols for Dalekanium or the zodiac symbol for Gallifrey. Maybe with this new magical Whoniverse, the Doctor now writes talismans on his fingers for protection.

It’s an enchanting prospect that we get to discover this new magic through the eyes of a new Doctor and companion. There’s a sort of levelling of the playing field for us as fans to come into this new chapter of Doctor Who slightly off our bearings. Who better to lead us through the chaos of magic than the Doctor himself? If his fingernails are a sign of this change, then he’s already got a leg-up on us, which is an exciting place to be as an audience. It’s so easy to be a pedantic know-it-all when the answer is always “Aliens,” but what about all those times a wizard did it, or in this case, the Toymaker?

Our introduction to Ruby Sunday was a bit surprising. Leaving her on a church doorstep felt like a page out of the Steven Moffat playbook of fairy tale magic. But also grounded in the character development we got with Rose, Martha, and Donna. Ruby’s backstory is a mystery, but her agency is not. Ruby has friends, a band, and a family. We’ve known her for 55 minutes and I already have a decent grasp on who she is as a person. She has a compassion for Lulubelle which goes beyond being kidnapped by Goblins. You can see she feels a kinship as a fellow foundling. She knows how it feels to feel disconnected from her history. Similarly, the Doctor can look at both Ruby and Lulubelle and see himself on their faces. He too was adopted after being left behind. 

I enjoyed this aspect of the story as my own family is touched by adoption. My mother found out she was adopted after her adoptive parents died. Coincidentally, she had already adopted a little girl from China a year or so prior. I now have three adopted siblings and I love them all. It means a lot to me to see them portraying Ruby’s family as a realistic depiction of an adopted family. Her adoptive mother, Carla, is as good a mother as one could hope for. When she admits she was nervous about Ruby finding her biological mother, it’s understandable. She doesn’t want to ruin the beautiful family that started when Ruby came into her and her mother Cherry’s lives.

The Davina McCall scene may be the weakest part of the episode. Aside from the prologue, it’s basically the first scene, and much like the other opening scenes in the RTD2 era, it’s a bit wonky. The dialogue lends itself to Ruby’s nervousness being interviewed, but “foundled,” is a bit too close to fondled for my tastes. It’s VOR all over again. The main takeaway from the interview is that Ruby was the baby left at the church (no surprises there) and that Davina’s people are going to try to find her birth parents. Sadly, as we come to find out, Ruby’s parents prove to be untraceable. The interview is cut short when the mics begin picking up the sound of Goblins. I feel like the only reason they were Goblins is because pointy-eared mischief makers called Gremlins ruining Christmas was a bit too close to a certain ‘80s movie. Better to go for a story with musical numbers about Goblins who steal babies for the Goblin King. No ‘80s movies infringed there… wait a minute. I kid of course, there’s nothing wrong with paying homage to the classics.

Before we get too far from the interview scene, I want to talk about Denzel. No, I don’t mean America’s sweetheart, Denzel Washington, I mean the sound guy. Was I drunk, or did Ruby mention he asked her out? I’d heard rumours she was going to have a bit of a love triangle with her boyfriend and the Doctor. I wonder if it’s not him. It would be weird to have a sound guy with a unique name who gets mentioned again if it’s not going to come back into play. I think this might enter the territory of the controversial aspects of the season that Millie Gibson alluded to recently. It’s funny then that the part of me that finds any of that controversial is the part of me that hates the idea of the Doctor being romantic with companions. I’ve never enjoyed it. Rose and Ten? Blech. Yaz and Thirteen? Snore. Representation matters, sure, but what about asexual and aromantic representation? I get that people might fancy the Doctor, especially when they look like Ncuti Gatwa, but I hope the Doctor continues to ward off any advances.

Speaking of representation, I would like to take a smidgen of a moment to talk about Trudy. As a trans woman, it was nice to see her living her best life. Simply letting trans characters exist is better representation than what we got in “The Star Beast.” They didn’t even pat themselves on the backs about it in “Doctor Who Unleashed,” as I worried they might. Regardless, some cis people think that any trans representation is shoving it down their throats. They reject the reality that for many people, trans people are a part of their daily lives. If your average person took the time to learn people’s pronouns, they’d see we’re everywhere. We’re not trying to shove anything in your face. Trust me. You’re not our type.

As I said above, it’s nice to see Ruby’s life play out over this montage. You learn a bit about her life and what she gets up to. Though when I heard she had a band, I was hoping for something more punk than Christmas standards. Ncuti dancing on the dancefloor was joyous, a word which I find myself using about him a lot lately. I love the embracing of his Scottish upbringing with his kilt. When I read RTD’s Doctor Who Magazine article talking about the Doctor dancing, I worried a little bit. Sure, the Ninth Doctor proved the Doctor dances, but I worried the scene would make the Doctor feel too sexy or too human. The Eleventh Doctor’s terrible dancing garnered the name “The Giraffe,” because it was so unflattering. But the Fifteenth Doctor pulls it off in a way few others could. However, I do still take issue with one aspect of that scene and that’s Ruby leaving her drink unattended in a busy club. There are worse people than Goblins mucking about with drinks, Russell. Let’s make a good example for the young members of the audience.

The montage of the Doctor watching Ruby from afar was actually a note from Disney. Test audiences wanted to see the Doctor earlier, and I don’t disagree. In the words of Werner Herzog’s Mandalorian character- “I want to see the baby.” It also explains why we recently saw footage of Ncuti punching through a snowman head when principal photography had ended months ago. This, of course, was due to further meddling from the Goblins, who appear to be everywhere now. They’re like bedbugs who pass from person to person. I loved the line “A pram at midnight. Really?” Such a cheeky Doctor already. Gatwa gives vibes of previous Doctors throughout the entire episode, but the snowman head scene gave us one I didn’t expect. The Doctor telling the policeman to ask his girlfriend to marry him reminded me of the Eighth Doctor’s penchant for fortunetelling. Only this time, he’s not weirdly omniscient, but rather making a wild assumption after his sonic pinged a diamond ring, which is a thing it does now, evidently.

The Doctor’s new sonic screwdriver has been a bit controversial, because what isn’t in this fucking fandom lately? I get the argument that it’s just not to your liking, that’s fair. But I’ve seen some monumentally dumb takes on the subject. I saw someone complain that it wasn’t shaped like a screwdriver. I hate to break it to you, but none of them have been shaped like a screwdriver. Show me on the Third Doctor’s where you fit the Phillips head. I’ve also seen people complain that it looked like tech from the early 2000s. So their biggest complaints are that it looks weird and out of time. How inappropriate for an alien time traveller. Regardless, I loved seeing Fifteen using his assorted gadgets. His intelligent gloves feel like a natural fit amongst his classic instruments and I can see them coming in handy further down the line. There’s also something about seeing the Doctor pull out the psychic paper that brings it home for me. It’s like seeing the Doctor square off with their first Dalek. It makes them feel complete. I know RTD said they’re giving the Daleks a rest for a bit, but I hope we do get to see Ncuti officially call one a “detty pig,” before he bows out.

The Goblin ship was a great way to introduce us to the new magical aspect of the Whoniverse. Not just because it’s fantastical, but also because the Doctor wasn’t able to use his shiny new screwdriver on it. Had it been a normal spaceship with metal and wires, he would only need to point and click. But this ship is all wood and rope, rendering the sonic mostly useless. The Goblins force the Doctor to learn the science of luck, but the ship causes him to learn the language of rope. I adored watching Ruby and the Doctor bicker while he was busy learning about the ship. They’ve not been together five minutes and they’re already getting tied up by baddies. They have an instant Doctor/companion relationship and it’s obvious why they were paired together. Furthermore, Ncuti’s detachment from the danger of the situation, coupled with an admiration for the Goblins’ tech was pure Doctory goodness. I could easily see Tom Baker fiddling with rope while Sarah Jane complained that he was goofing off.

Because of the charity release of “The Goblin Song,” many of us had become intimately familiar with it before the episode. What I doubt many of us were expecting was for Ncuti and Millie to join in on the singing. While I’ve not heard anyone complain about this, I’m sure someone has. To me, it worked. For starters, it’s a Christmas episode. Secondly, the Goblins have a band. It makes sense that the Doctor would try to win them over by speaking their language. It seems to work as the Goblins dance along with the Doctor and Ruby. Much of their logic seems dictated by whimsy. They sing and dance. They cause mischief. And they are attracted to coincidence. It’s not just that Lulubelle is a baby, it’s that she’s flavoured by happenstance. Both she and Ruby are foundlings left on Christmas Eve. It’s like the sound of a dinner bell for these little munchers. While the singing and dancing worked for both the scene and the Goblins, I hope RTD continues to use it sparingly. While I expect to see it return with the Beatles episode, I don’t want the concept to wear out its welcome. Doctor Who can afford the odd musical episode, but let’s not go crazy.

With Lulubelle saved, the Doctor and Ruby get her back home before Carla or Cherry ever notice she’s gone. This gives the family a chance to meet the Doctor, starting with Cherry. Cherry’s reaction to the Fifteenth Doctor was an understandably thirsty one. RTD kind of wrote himself into a corner by casting Gatwa. It must be exhausting to begin every scene with “The Doctor enters the room and people are immediately enamoured.”  He exudes charisma in a way that makes you stop looking at David Tennant. Remember the bi-generation scene? Little known fact, but Tennant was also in that scene. Another enjoyable aspect of the Cherry scene was seeing the Doctor flirt back. I know I said I dislike a romantic Doctor, but it was nice to see it with someone more age-appropriate. I kid, but what I did like about the scene was that he spoke to her as if she were a young woman. Because for him, she is. And even further, it didn’t feel like that cutesy old people flirting like “If I were younger,” bullshit. It makes sense that a time traveller would find whoever a person is in the present the most important. You can travel to the past or the future, but it all pivots along you in the present. We stand outside past and future versions of ourselves. To me, this is why the Doctor is compassionate, he sees the pivot people are capable of making. Can you now pivot beyond a dark past into a bright future?

The meeting between Carla and the Doctor was less flirtatious. Carla seemed open to this eccentric Doctor while keeping a concerned mother’s distance. The ironic thing is that not only is the Doctor like Ruby and Lulubelle, but he’s also a lot like Carla. Both of them know the weight that comes with what the Twelfth Doctor would call “duty of care.” Like the Doctor’s long list of previous companions, the photos on Carla’s fridge tell a story of lives touched. This is why when things go bad and Ruby disappears, the missing photos on the fridge cut us to our core. Michelle Greenidge floored me with her performance here. Seeing her claim her life is great because she has no responsibility was harrowing. We’ve seen her real truth. She’s a centre point of light illuminating the lives of many, not this selfish woman in it for the paycheck. Even Cherry now feels forgotten in the other room, waiting out the clock. This is a reality the Doctor cannot tolerate.

Not only are the Goblins little baby-stealing monsters, but they’re also time-hoppers, whatever the hell that means. How it differs from time travel probably has more to do with a Time Lord’s concept of elegance than anything else. But like the Daleks, I doubt Goblins have much of a concept of elegance. If anything it’s a warped admiration for coincidence. And if a baby Lulubelle isn’t a viable meal option, then the other side of that coincidental coin, baby Ruby, would have to suffice. After all, I’m fairly certain if they don’t feed the Goblin King soon, he’s going to start wooing Jennifer Connelly at a masked ball. The Doctor travels back to that church on Ruby Road. Tears still running down his face, we see the mysterious woman leaving Ruby behind. Is it her mother? Is it a younger version of the mysterious Mrs Flood? Is it Ruby herself? The Doctor doesn’t have the time to go chasing after her. He has Gobbos to stop.

Floating above the church steeple like Bowser’s airship, the Goblins begin hauling Ruby onboard. The Doctor climbs to the church roof where he puts the last spark of power in his intelligent gloves to the test. Instead of climbing up to the ship, the Doctor begins pulling the ship back down to earth by its rope ladder. However, the ladder is more likely to give out before his gloves do. So in a last-ditch effort, the Doctor brings all of his weight down using the gloves’ ability to increase mavity (I know) on the ladder. The ship plunges onto the church steeple which stabs up through the hull and into the belly of the Goblin King. With his influence and magic now dispersed, the ship and all of its Goblins disappear with it, leaving baby Ruby in a freefall. No pressure. The Doctor of course catches her using the gloves to cushion her fall. It was all a pretty lucky gamble considering the steeple could have just as easily hit Ruby, but luck is now a tangible thing, so maybe it was lucky. You could say “The Doctor killed a guy,” but you could also say this was the Goblin King’s second chance, and as you remember- “No second chances.” It would appear that the Doctor is still that sort of man.

With the Goblins gone, neither Ruby nor Davina McCall will be plagued with bad luck. Davina even gets so lucky as to have the Doctor appear just in time to prevent her from being brained by a Christmas tree star. The pictures on the fridge are back, and so is the giant crack the Goblins left when they attempted to kidnap Ruby. It makes you wonder just how Carla and Cherry will fair with squirrels getting in through the roof while Ruby is off exploring all of time and space. Does insurance cover acts of Goblin? Who knows, maybe Kate Stewart will stop by with a restoration team. All the Doctor would need to do is make a call. Mrs Flood returns to commend the Doctor for a better parking job. Is it just me or was that a subtle hint of disability representation? A subtle reminder not to block the pavement for the elderly and disabled.

I liked that the TARDIS appeared to invite Ruby inside by opening her doors to her. You could say the Doctor flipped a switch, but he was busy doing his fourth costume change. I like to think she was giving her seal of approval. I never quite understood why the TARDIS didn’t like Clara. It seemed to come out of nowhere. The TARDIS was like, “I dunno why, but I don’t like this bitch.” I guess you could say the whole Impossible Girl thing made her competition, but now it’s just starting to sound like Moffat writing women. But the TARDIS and Ruby? Just gals being pals. Sisters before misters. Empowered women empower women. Yas queen.

In the end, we’re left with Mrs Flood comforting her neighbour Abdul after he sees the TARDIS dematerialise. She gives the camera a devious smile as she says “Never seen a TARDIS before?” This of course is the classic Davies Easter Egg. He knew the fandom would blow up. And dammit, after almost twenty years of saying it, it had better be the Rani. Some people have said Romana or Susan, but she feels a bit more sinister. Besides, if it’s Susan, I’m going to be disappointed because Carol Anne Ford is still alive. If it was Susan, we’re owed a flashback to her regeneration. The reason she feels slightly sinister is the way she gaslights Abdul about the TARDIS. She yells at the poor man like he parked the thing in front of her house even though she apparently knows what it is. Conversely, she could be nobody we’ve seen before. Perhaps she’s an Eternal or “the Boss.” Either way, I’m intrigued.

Ncuti Gatwa is finally the Doctor. It almost feels unreal to be able to say that. Not only have we waited a long time to say it, but what an exciting Doctor he is already. He brings an invigorated energy to the performance. He's full of charm and I can't picture many Doctors pulling off a curtsy as well as he did. I’m still waiting for him to get a bit scary, but his amazed reaction to seeing Goblins about to eat a baby shows me he’s capable of it. I would like to see them show his age a little, but there’s still loads of time. His conversation with Cherry gave us a glimpse at the ancient being behind his eyes, but I would like to see more. While the Doctor may still have hang-ups about his past, it would appear his time with Donna was a time of emotional healing. The Doctor isn’t afraid of his emotions and it’s been a bit of a revelation just how much I like that. This Doctor wears his hearts on his sleeves and it’s surprisingly refreshing. It’s a far cry from “I'm still quite socially awkward,” and I couldn’t be any happier about that. We have a new Doctor. A new companion. New rules. Is anyone else excited for May?

[mixu]

Naruto and H1n0t0's wedding chapter confirms SNS

For part 4 of Shippuden’s last chapter analysis, and how it actually confirms sns, we’ll go back to the events previous to the wedding.

Pt 4. On how Iruka failed Naruto

As I mentioned on pts. 1-3, the chapters leading to the wedding always seemed odd to me. Something about the flow of dialogue made me feel like there was something I wasn’t understanding. There was one scene in particular in which I felt one of the characters was overreacting about something that shouldn’t be that big of an issue. That scene is where Naruto asks Iruka to attend the wedding as his father.

First, I’ll let you watch the clip (sorry about the quality and lack of sound)

The scene starts with Naruto visiting Iruka. There’s some small talk until Naruto mentions his bachelor days are numbered and wants to make the most of that time, to which Iruka reacts by shouting at him and recriminating him for how hard Hinata has been working for the wedding.

Look at Naruto’s face

He doesn’t understand Iruka’s reaction, and I agree. Why is Iruka so upset? Naruto’s joke might have been in poor taste, but it was a joke. Granted, planning a wedding is a pain in the ass, but Hinata mentioned in the previous episode that her father had taken care of most of it. Hell, she’s the heiress to the wealthiest most powerful Clan in Konoha. Everything gets done for her (she had fucking bodyguards during the war!) She is not doing the planning alone if at all.

Then, Iruka says he failed to raise Naruto as a decent person (blow #1), which is an overstatement because a couple of ramen bowls and heartfelt conversations don’t equal raising a child, then tries to drag him to Hinata’s house to apologize for raising such a thoughtless man (blow #2). Naruto stops him and says they can’t go to Hinata because if Hinata is present, he can’t say what he wants to say… seriously? Iruka asks what he wants to talk about and Naruto responds he’d like to talk about it over ramen (his comfort food) and some drinks, and Iruka cuts him off.

Look at their faces after that

Naruto is nervous because of Iruka’s reaction

Iruka is pissed. I know that face. My mother made that face whenever she was about to tell me how I had fucked up something, and it was never pleasant. But why is Iruka so pissed when Naruto hasn’t even said a thing? What does Iruka suspects or knows Naruto to be guilty about? Then he goes and throws this bomb on Naruto (blow #3):

“I guess I didn’t need to mull over what to say and how to congratulate you.”

「おまえをどう祝ってやるべきか何を伝えればいいのかいろいろ考え必要はなかったな」 I leave the original dialogue too, but it’s pretty much the same:

Like, what? That must have hurt, and it did because look at Naruto’s face when Iruka is walking away.

As I see it, Iruka’s line can be interpreted two ways. Either he knows about sns and that’s the reason Naruto has neglected Hinata, so Naruto doesn’t deserve the consideration of his words. Or, he suspected Naruto was planning to call off the wedding, in which case there was no need for Iruka to prepare a speech.

There’s a pause before Naruto says he has something to ask from Iruka. This makes Iruka turn back because he wasn’t expecting a request (what were you expecting, Iruka?) and notice we don’t get to see Naruto’s eyes but he’s mouth is tense.

When we see his eyes again Naruto looks sad. Why? Okay, maybe he doubts Iruka will grant his request after the way he has been treating him. Or, maybe, he has realized he can’t trust Iruka with what he actually had wanted to say.

Naruto seems lost in thought when he asks Iruka to attend as his father, which softens Iruka’s face like effective immediately. And Iruka is like “Oh, that was it? I thought you were about elope with Sasuke.” And once more, Iruka’s body language doesn’t make sense to me. The tears, ok, it’s an emotive moment, but the clenched fists and the eyes (as if he is containing himself from doing or saying something) before he accepts, don’t add up to me.

Naruto doesn’t look happy, just relieved. Again, not the right reaction in my opinion if his original plan was to ask Iruka to attend the wedding as his father. Naruto should have launched himself at Iruka like he did after Iruka gave him his headband in the first chapter. Instead, they go all formal and thank each other, then Naruto makes a haste exit. Where is he going? Just before the conversation went awry, he was insisting on them having ramen and drinks. Shouldn’t they be celebrating? Moreover, why couldn’t Hinata be present when Naruto presented his request to Iruka? Just a couple of scenes later, Hinata herself says she knew about Naruto making his request.

And why does Iruka starts sobbing when Naruto gets out of sight when they have seen each other cry before? This reeks of guilt and explains why he was behaving the way he did during the wedding.

Imagine being Naruto full of doubts, searching for the support and understanding of the person he trusts the most, the closest thing he ever had to a family and getting this reaction. No wonder their relationship is inexistent in Boruto.

***********************************************************

Stay tuned for pt.5

[yunarim]

── ⋅⋅⋅ "hey prefect, would you mind staying here for a little bit longer?"

「 summary 」 : you've been hanging out with him, but it's suddenly raining outside, so you can't go back to your dorm ♡ tags : gn reader, fluff ♡ characters : deuce, epel, sebek

─ ⊹ Deuce Spade ♡₊

“I had so much fun today, thank you, Deuce!”

You are about to take your leave, gathering your things and checking whether you have forgotten something. You notice your pencil and highlighter left on the table after the studying session you had with Deuce. Actually, more like acting as if you were studying, while Riddle was passing by and you two turned it into some kind of a game, where you were working ‘in shifts’, one of you sitting near the entrance in order to distract Riddle while another one was desperately trying to download that stupid MagiTube video to watch tomorrow during the lunch break.

Deuce took a look where you were pointing your finger and was quick to react, collecting your things and was about to handle them for you and wish you a good night, but suddenly spotted how dark it was outside. It wasn’t that late to be so somber yet, so Deuce squinted and peered out the window.

“Prefect, come here for a second.”

You did as he told, bending over him, the scent of your perfume suddenly lingering on his own dormitory clothes, and he stuttered for a mere second, but quickly composed himself.

“It’s raining outside.”

Indeed, it was raining hard. You sighed with a hint of worry and checked out what time it was.  “Grim’s alone at the dorm today… But I didn’t bring an umbrella. May I borrow one from Heartslabyul?” You asked, noticing how a hint of disappointment flickered in your friend’s eyes, but brushed it off.

“You could, but look… It’s not only raining, it’s storming. I would get detention or something from dorm leader Rosehearts if I let you walk to your dorm alone. Especially when Ramshackle doesn't have a mirror leading to its entrance in the Hall of Mirrors.”

You turned worried just by thinking how unpleasant it would be for Deuce to let him down, so you decided to agree with him. “Then what do we do?” “Uh, uhm… Oh, I know! Remember Cater-senpai telling us about those new series everyone was talking about? How about we watch it? I’ll make us some tea.”

“As long as it’s warm and cozy, then I’m more than willing to,” you dropped your school bag somewhere near the entrance, placing yourself on Deuce’s bed beside him and took his laptop to open an online cinema service and searched for the film while he submerged somewhere in the kitchen to make you two tea.

“Here, I hope that would suffice… I’m not nearly as skilled as dorm leader Rosehearts, though… I know you’ve been drinking tea together sometimes.”

You noticed a slight hint of sadness running through his eyes as if mere shadow hiding from the sun, but took a cup of tea he made. As you were sipping, you smiled at how bitter it was, but thanked Deuce nevertheless.

Deuce glanced at you, your uniform being wrinkled here and there, your black and white tie loosened a bit, and maybe, just maybe, if there was his dorm leader, he would definitely fixed your clothes and reprimand you slightly, a little smile remaining on his face just for you to witness, but…

He wasn’t Riddle, and you were comfortable enough with Deuce to let him see that side of you, so cozy with shades of something domestic within. You turned to him, noticing his gaze, and a lovely smile appeared on your gentle face.

“So, how’s the film to you so far?” Deuce did his best to not to stutter at how nimbly you caught him observing your features. 

“It’s fun, though I must say it’s not the best position for me to watch,” you chuckled, pointing at how far Deuce placed the laptop, making sure the distance between you two isn't uncomfortable for you. “I mean I don’t bite? As long as you want me to, tho.”

“Haha,” Deuce laughed off his embarrassment, thinking how ridiculous he was behaving, and welcomed you to approach him, pulling the laptop closer to you two. “Sorry, come here.”

You felt his shoulder touching yours and smiled gently, giggling. Now that was way better.

Soon enough you started dozing off due to the weather being quite dull and lulling at the same time, and Deuce was radiating tender warmth. You tried your best trying not to fall asleep right here, but the drowsiness embraced you gently, causing you to put your head on his shoulder.

Deuce jumped at the sudden weight on his shoulder but quickly collected himself, staring in awe at your sleepy face, your slightly parted lips making him flutter.

“I wish you could stay a little longer…”

He took your hand and pressed a light kiss on it, averting his gaze.

“At least for today.”

─ ⊹ Epel Felmier ♡₊

“You’re a lifesaver, really.”

You chuckled and pulled your cardigan on as Epel fixed his flawlessly neat dorm uniform and was ready to go, but you approached him suddenly, adjusting his silky waistband. 

“Jeez,” he sighed. “Never gonna understand how this thing works. It sucks when the third thing you do every morning is suffer with this hellish outfit.”

“The third?” You ask. “What’s the first two then?”

“First one is to drink a glass of lemon water and the second is to wash up my face. Welp, the second one includes ten more pre steps such as to use tonic, then serum, then… nah, wait, the first one is a face wash foam.”

You glanced at how healthy his skin looked and approved of Vil's hard work.

“It takes a lot to remember the sequence actually. You’re impressive. Gotta ask you though what’s the other things you do-”

Abrupt thunder rumbled outside the Pomefiore ballroom, tinting it white for a second before plunging the room back into darkness. You looked out the window, finally catching the aging howls of the wind, and shivered.

“... After you wash up your face.”

“Yo, I guess it’s not the best idea to head back to Ramshackle right now.”

“No, it’s fine, I just-”

Another thunder strike caused you to sigh in defeat. Maybe it really wasn’t smart to even think about stepping out of Pomefiore. You turned to Epel, who seemed to not mind such weather at all, and stretched out your hand with a gentle smile plastered on your face. 

Epel let out an exhausted laugh, but took your hand nevertheless, pulling you closer to him. One of his hands on your waist, while the other one was resting on your shoulder in his usual polished gesture which Vil superintended himself many times.

Epel didn’t mind taking extra dancing classes if it was from you and not Vil. You never commented on his height, and he was extremely grateful for that, making sure you both enjoy this activity more than gossipping and nagging about Vil’s tactics. 

Somehow it turned out you two grew to genuinely love dancing together in an empty ballroom, your laughter and the ephemeral clatter of your heels on the parquet floor were the only things that broke the pretentious silence of this place.

The thunder roar and the lingering howl of the wind torn by the hurried thud of the downpour have replaced music, you felt the natural rhythm, as if devoured into the sky's wailing. Epel, tired enough of non-stopping dancing, was reborn that moment, your clear eyes full of unfeigned delight the only thing he could see. 

“It’s so romantic all of sudden.”

He regretted saying that since it was quite obvious he ruined the mood, but the question is, which mood exactly? Were you feeling the same awkward, yet endearing sentiments? 

You chuckled, pulling him closer and making him almost fall, but your tight yet not offensively firm grip on his wrist prevented him from meeting with cold parquet. Epel lifted his leg elegantly and then wrapped it around your waist, instantly remembering everything Vil had taught him. The memory of your previous dances flashed before his eyes like a web of successive sepia shots, and he chuckled back at you.

“Oh my, dear sir,” your suddenly exalted facade almost shattered, but you quickly collected yourself in order to keep your act neat and polished. “May I steal a kiss from such a charming gentleman?”

“You’re quite persistent,” he regained his composure, making you both steady. “I will allow you this once.”

Your hands moved from his shoulders to his face, cupping his cheeks, and you pressed your lips to his in a gentle kiss.

“Only once?” You asked through the kiss, your lips remaining on his. 

“Maybe twice,” he hummed, deepening the kiss as if echoing melodious thunder rumbling. 

─ ⊹ Sebek ZIgvolt ♡₊

Humans were strange. 

“Your hair messed up.”

Out of all human beings you were the one he couldn’t understand the most. Are you out of your mind, fixing his hair locks so fearlessly like that? 

“Your uniform is all wrinkled too, human.”

Maybe he wasn’t reasonable himself. You giggled when his strong hands reached out to you, adjusting your collar so it’s not messy in any way, yet it didn’t really have much impact due to you always fidgeting. 

A firm sense of déjà vu lingered somewhere underneath his forthright persona whenever you were near him. You were just… there. You existed, and he remembered you as an annoying (but were you really?..) magicless person who was at least astute enough to realize his young master wasn’t scary, he was a magnificent, dignified and wise leader, and yet…

You. Just how dare you to look at Sebek while his young master was present! What was the point of your playful glances and in addition, why was his master grinning so suspiciously at his cheeks that were suddenly growing red?! Look, human, you are always making him suffer a sudden fever. 

At least you were smart and eager to study gargoyles so that you had enough intelligence to share with his young master on your late night strolls, so that’s why you were here, in Sebek’s room, in the first place.

Your intention of taking lessons from him was appealing in a way, and he admired your perseverance, so he couldn’t afford mucking your expectations up, so he spent all his free time preparing a five-hour lecture with a test consisted of fifty five questions in the end. 

He supposed you were extremely eager to memorize everything he shared with so much passion, why were you dozing off?! Apparently, you spend too much time with Silver… Somehow he didn’t like the thought, quickly brushing it off and opening his mouth in order to demand you regain your attention on the papers rather than his face (why were you so preoccupied with observing his lips anyway?!), but suddenly a reverberating noise came from the outside. 

“Hm? What’s happening?” You stood up, glancing at the window. 

Sebek opened the curtains, revealing a heavy downpour outside the window and rumbling thunder, changing into glistening flashes of lightning.

“Human, I advise you to stay here for a little longer.”

Something warm blossomed in your chest at his words, but you still had an act to play. You let out a sigh, then sprawled on his table and looked at him meekly.

“Ah, but what do we do? As much as I admire and treasure your lectures, we’ve been discussing the overhang of the roof, supported by an entablature with a strongly protruding cornice, no longer threatening the walls with dampness over five hours already…” You quoted Sebek precisely, a cheeky grin on your face. 

“Intend to slack off, human? Not on my watch.”

“Urgh, fine!” You pouted, straightening up and sighing. “But what’s the point of studying if you’re not encouraging and praising me for all the hard work I’ve done?”

And you were actually right. Notes you’ve done were filled up with a great amount of precision and thoughtfulness, you deserved to be praised a little. Was that a part of educating Lilia notified Sebek about before getting started doing his own research on gargoyles? He wouldn’t want to disappoint master Lilia, even if the teaching process was hard and thorny. 

“Alright,” he turned to you, looking straight into your eyes and finding sudden glimpses of fondness. “Ask me anything within my capacity to do so that it’ll encourage you to work even harder.”

“Anything, really?” 

You jumped at an unexpected thunder strike. Sebek was quick to put his hands on your shoulders, guided by an unfamiliar impulse for him. You smiled gently, noticing a light pink dust on his cheeks.

“Calm down human, it’s just thunder.”

“Oh, but I’m so scared…” your act was absolutely horrible, and yet Sebek tensed. “But there is something you can do to make me switch my attention to your lecture.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Could you please fix my hair? It’s all tangled.”

He let out a sigh, running his hands through your hair and combing it gently with his fingers while you giggled and left a quick peck on his cheek, forcing Sebek to jolt and back away from you, covering his cheeks with his hand in an awkward attempt to hide the blush spreading on his face.

“What the?!- Human!!”

“I feel so inspired now, shall we continue studying?”

For the first time in his life he thought that he would not be able to quickly regain his composure since that sweet smile of yours occupied all his thoughts.

© yushiiae 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[noroi1000]

Annoying 2

@mc-reborn there is your ask ☺️

cover by @blvckryx

Paring: Gojo x reader

warnings: smut

With your eyes covered and your hands tied, all you could feel was the warmth of his skin as your legs were placed on his thighs.

You haven't seen anything. But instead of seeing, you might have heard something.

However, it was nothing special.

You heard your heart beat. You heard his slightly heavier breathing.

You heard him moving and doing something. And also his grunt as he leaned down.

And that's when you felt your shirt disappear from your body.

His fingers gently began to undo the little bumps on your stomach and chest.

He tossed the two ends of the cloth aside when he had finished his work.

You felt movement on your body.

"What are you doing?" you asked as he moved.

"Nothing you won't like." he murmured.

You heard his voice below.

His breath was somehow close to your skin.

Suddenly you felt cold hands gripping your sides. You arched your back at the sudden sensation and let out a surprised sigh.

You were pushed back into the mattress by the feeling of warm, wet lips against your stomach.

You felt his thumbs press against the soft flesh, holding you in place.

His lips gently kissed your skin, moving down. Where he stopped just in front of the belly button, sucking on the soft skin. Before he released a piece of your flesh from between his lips, and started moving his mouth upwards.

This time towards your face.

This warm and gentle feeling sent shivers down your spine. It tickled a bit.

And of course, to spite you, he didn't say anything at all.

He was so annoying again...

Even though you love him, his behavior is sometimes irritating.

Really.

And now you know he does it all on purpose. That he was especially annoying now.

But then something happened...

He connected your lips in a short kiss, then slumped down.

You couldn't feel his body at all.

You heard the bed creak as he took his legs off the mattress.

"Satoru?" You called out, feeling panic might rise in your chest if he didn't speak.

Well, against your will, you're lying on a bed with a blindfold that blocks out light from all sides. And also against your will you lie there limp with your hands tied above your head.

Even if you wanted to get up, you could. However, you know that when you get up, you will fall over quickly. You can't see anything, and your hands and their placement won't help you find the easy way. Which will also be safe for you.

You don't want to fall down the stairs.

You swallowed when you heard no response from him.

Even though it was your goddamn house, you still couldn't see anything.

What the hell is Satoru going to do?

Just when you thought you wouldn't get any response from him, you heard something.

Steps and next words.

"Would you like coffee or tea?" he asked.

"what?" you murmured.

"I'm asking if you want something to drink. Because I want coffee." He said a second time.

"Satoru! You tied me up and blindfolded me! And now you're asking me if I want tea???"

"...Yeah... You know, since I've been so annoying, maybe I'll see how you react without my attention."

You didn't see it, but you know he must have smiled.

You were lying on the bed in your bra. After he tried to undress you further. And you have to answer the question do you want coffee or tea?

You didn't hear any response from him after that.

You just lay there, waiting for him to say something.

But when you didn't hear any response, you started to get nervous.

You couldn't tighten the restraints of your vision because there was a string around your wrists.

Or was it a tie?

You know Satoru has ties at home. Even though he doesn't wear it very often, he still has it. So maybe he took the tie and quickly tied your wrists?

This material was a little too soft for a string.

It doesn't dig into your wrists.

It's soft.

"Satoru?" you whispered, still listening to your surroundings.

He was standing by the door looking at you in bed.

You were so helpless. He didn't think it was something very scary for you. Because you weren't scared at home.

He just felt you might panic a little.

Your chest was rising a little faster than usual.

Eventually, when people cannot free themselves, they start to panic. Even though he saw signs of it in you, it happened as soon as he walked away from you.

Well, he was craving sweet aromatic coffee. But he also wanted your sweet pussy.

He began to imagine you looking like this naked.

He knew your nipples were sticking out from the cooler air that held your body.

His mind floated like a little cloud in the blue sky. Thinking about things so close that no one would have expected it.

The look of your belly he could touch and pinch, your breasts rising and falling with each inhalation and exhalation.

And the idea of ​​quickly tying you up with a tie was perfect for him.

He could just walk right over and start fucking you right now.

With a smile on his lips, he reached into his pants, running his hand over the hard penis under the material.

He was so annoying? Now too?

You got a little nervous, so that was your punishment.

And now what you will experience will be to show that you cannot leave it without attention next time.

He needs your attention and love.

Because if he doesn't get it, he'll do it again and again. Until you finally understand.

Using Jujutsu techniques, he hovered above the floor, slowly approaching you on the bed.

As he hovered above you, he grabbed your knees and spread your legs.

He lifted your skirt up, curling it around the top of your hips.

"Satoru." You grunted but he just smiled.

You couldn't feel him sitting or kneeling on the bed. Where was he?

His fingers found their way to your panties, and he pushed the material away from your damp core.

Feeling your slickness coat his fingertips under his fingers, he smiled harder.

Releasing his cock from his pants, he let it stick out all the way as he continued to hover over you.

He spat silently into his hand, smearing saliva all over his cock.

Grabbing your knees again, he lowered himself a little and placed your legs on his hips.

Then I realized he was hovering over you. Your panties have been pulled to the side again, tight.

He was a pervert... Did he intend to sexually torture you? Little touches? What else...?

Suddenly you felt something big and slippery press against your pussy, heading straight for the entrance.

You let out a loud moan of surprise mixed with pleasure. As he slid inside you quickly, stretching you all the way.

Until his groin made contact with your body as he was completely on top of you, propping himself up with one hand next to your shoulder. His other hand was squeezing your covered breast.

Your hips trembled as you adjusted to the sudden feeling of fullness inside you.

His cock found a warm tight home, squeezing into your insides and staying there for quite a while.

"If I'm annoying you one more time, baby, just let me fuck you." He laughed as he rubbed your mound. "Remember that I need your attention. And if I don't have it, I'll just take your attention from you. I will hug you, kiss you whenever I want. I will fuck you whenever I want. So, honey..."

He brought his face up to yours with a smile. Even if you haven't seen him.

"I still want something that feels so nice to me. I want your attention. And your gorgeous pussy makes up for it perfectly that you didn't want to hug me..."

From what he says you understand one thing.

That if you don't show him affection at work, he'll fuck you.

Not that it bothers you. But you can hug and kiss him at work and fuck him at home.

[whosmarinette]

The Walten Files: the story of Linda Thompson’s involvement and its consequences

Please note that I actually haven’t been in the fandom for years, this is just me organizing what I believe to be the story regarding Linda. I used to have a whole sideblog where the whole joke was how much I love her, so….

Linda Thompson was Jack Walten’s cousin. They were pretty close, maybe they were both only children and close in age, so every family reunion they would play with each other.

Perhaps, Linda even introduced Jack and Rosemary. What definitely happened was that Jack introduced her and Felix. Felix was immediately smitten, regarding Linda as the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. She did fit the beauty standard quite nicely: blonde-haired, blue-eyed all-american girl. It was almost hard to believe her and Jack were closely related with how different they looked.

She married Felix and for the first while he was the perfect, loving husband, even making the company’s uniform her favorite color - purple. A bit too nervous at times, and really obsessed with his work, but that only left her more time to visit the Waltens and become better friends with Rosemary, as well as a real auntie for their kids. To the point, that, inspired by her husband’s and cousin’s clear fascination with rabbits, she sewed a gray plush rabbit for the kids.

But Felix and Linda had fertility problems, and Felix’s drinking was becoming less and less “having fun with friends” and more and more “when was the last time you were sober”, which couldn’t have helped.

She still stayed for a while - she truly did love Felix, and believed the magic of their early days could be reborn. And also, for a while, she felt like she couldn’t leave Jack and his family behind, since they are her family too.

But she finally decided to do it. Felix was busy - first at work, then he’d have to look after Jack’s kids at a school party, so he wouldn’t be home until late. She called Jack to pick her up and explained the situation. He helped her pack her things while she wrote her goodbye note, and they were off.

As they drove towards the train station past the woods, Linda noticed something on the ground - a gray bunny she made for the kids. She pointed it out to Jack, and he said the kids were probably playing and threw it out of the open window in the car on their way home. They picked up the bunny and Linda rushed Jack to take her to the train station: Felix must be getting home by now and who knows how he might react to her leaving.

But when Jack returned home after dropping Linda off, his kids weren’t there. He propped the toy in the kitchen and called Felix, but he didn’t pick up. He kept on leaving increasingly irritated voice messages on his phone.

In the meantime, Felix returned home to find it folder than it ever was. Pictures taken down from walls, half the closet empty, the only food are at least a day-old leftovers, and his wife’s diary open on the bed. The weight of the day crashed over him and he had a complete mental breakdown as the phone played back Jack screaming and shouting.

Felix spiraled from there. Over time his mind twisted. Everything appeared ugly to him, everything except the picture of Linda he kept in his wallet, which he’d grown to treat like an image of God. He tried to get her back, but she kept slipping away.

And then, twisted thoughts began to bubble in his mind. He just has to remake Linda. He’s an inventor, he can build an animatronic, he can build her too. He just needs to find spare parts, something close enough to be able to recreate her. Someone close enough.

After the attempt with Jack turned out a failure, he turned to Rosemary. To the one lady in his company that he could swear had the same smile as Linda. He was obsessed with the idea of making a perfectly beautiful specimen, to remaking his wife. In his mind, he was almost finally making a child with her. And it had to be beautiful.

He kept Rocket because she made it. Many years later, he attacked a man with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing purple - for a moment, he thought he was her, and when he wasn’t, he flew into a rage.

And now he’s on the hunt for Rosemary - the last Walten - because of how many times Linda mentioned that she feels like Rosemary is her baby too.