#so yeah my answer to these questions is yes

[inseobts]

A Swordsman’s Resolve

zoro x reader

when you awaken a new power that lets you take others' pain as your own, you begin secretly protecting the strawhat crew—until zoro finds out and decide to train you to grow stronger without relying on your gift.

words count: 3.1k

warning: reader is like a voodoo doll so self harm, blood and injuries are mentioned for the fights

tags: injuries, fluff, a bit angst maybe, training with zoro

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

You ate a Devil Fruit when you were a kid, and got a strange ability that let you use your own pain as a weapon.

If you stabbed yourself, your enemy would feel the wound instead. A direct exchange. Pain for pain.

It wasn’t perfect. The more damage you took, the weaker you got. Sure, you healed faster than the one you hurt, but it still hurt like hell.

And if you pushed too hard you wouldn’t heal as fast as your usual.

Still, it was useful. You used it to protect the crew, especially during battle. If someone was about to get hit, you’d cut yourself transferring the damage to the enemy instead to stop them.

Painful? Yes. Worth it? Always.

But then, something changed.

It happened a few weeks ago.

The battle had been rough, but the crew had won. You stood on the Sunny’s deck, covered in sweat and blood, catching your breath.

Across from you, Luffy was clutching his side waiting for Chopper to finish patch someone else.

“Oi, you okay?” you asked, stepping closer.

Luffy grinned, but it was weaker than usual “Yeah! Just a little cut.”

A little cut was Luffy speak for ‘I’m actually bleeding a lot, but don’t worry about it.’

You frowned, crouching beside him. His shirt was torn, revealing a deep gash along his ribs. It wasn’t fatal, but it didn’t look good either.

Without thinking, you pressed your fingers over the wound and then a sharp, searing pain shot through your own ribs.

Your breath caught as you felt the wound disappear from Luffy’s body… and appear on yours.

Luffy blinked, confused.

“Huh? It stopped hurting!” He poked his side, then looked at you “…Wait, why do you look like you’re in pain now?”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to hiss “No reason.”

Luffy tilted his head “Did you just—”

“Shut up,” you muttered, standing up quickly “I said it’s nothing.”

Luffy’s eyes narrowed “Did you just steal my injury?”

You froze “…No.”

“Yes, you did!” His expression lit up like a kid discovering a new game “That’s so cool! Can you do it again?”

You groaned “It’s not cool, Luffy.”

But he was already poking at his arm “What if I get a cut here—can you take it?”

“Luffy.”

“What if I break a bone?”

“LUFFY.”

He pouted “What? It’s a fair question!”

You sighed, rubbing your temples “Look. I didn’t even know I could do this until now. It just… happened.”

Luffy blinked, processing.

Then, to your absolute horror, he grinned “That means you can heal everyone! You heal faster so it must be already gone..”

Your stomach dropped “No. It actually hurts. A lot more than my usual power.” You crossed your arms “Seems like it takes longer for me to heal. It’s not some magical fix.”

Luffy hummed “Mh then I'd say you don't use that anymore... but you’d still do it, right? I know you”

You hesitated.

Of course, you would. If it meant protecting the crew.

But before you could answer, Sanji’s voice rang out from the kitchen “Dinner’s ready!”

Luffy immediately forgot everything and ran inside, laughing.

You exhaled. Crisis averted.

For now.

Because if Luffy knew then it was only a matter of time before someone else found out.

You keep your secret safe for weeks! Apparently Luffy forgot...

At first, it’s easy. You start small, taking tiny injuries from the crew when no one’s looking. A scraped knee here, a bruised knuckle there. Nothing big.

No one notices.

But then the fights get tougher.

The New World isn’t kind. Enemies get stronger, battles last longer. The crew starts walking away from fights with barely any wounds. But you start feeling it.

The constant ache in your bones, the sharp sting of deep cuts that aren’t healing fast enough. But you push through it, hide it well.

Or at least, you think you do.

Until Zoro catches you.

It happens after a particularly brutal fight.

The crew had just finished raiding a marine base. Nothing too crazy, but the enemies had been tough.

You stand on the deck of the Sunny, bandaging your arm. Another wound you had taken from Usopp. He had been hit bad, you hadn’t even thought before reaching for him, absorbing the injury.

Now, you regret it. This one hurts.

“You’re doing it again.”

You freeze.

Zoro’s voice is sharp, too sharp. When you turn, he’s standing near the railing, arms crossed, eyes locked onto you.

You force a smile “Doing what?”

His expression darkens “Don’t play dumb.”

Your stomach twists.

“Taking our damn injuries” he says flatly.

Your grip tightens on the bandages “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zoro steps closer “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not—”

Before you can finish, he moves. Too fast.

One second, he’s in front of you. The next, he’s grabbing your wrist forcing your hand away from your bandages.

Your breath catches.

His eyes drop to your arm.

To the wound that wasn’t there before the fight ended.

His jaw tightens “So that’s how we’ve been walking away without a scratch.”

You yank your hand back “It’s not a big deal.”

“The hell it isn’t!” His voice is low, but angry “You’re hurting yourself for us.”

You glare “I’ve always done that.”

“Not like this.”

“It’s the same thing!” You step closer, frustration bubbling up “I take pain to protect the crew, that’s what I’ve always done!”

Zoro’s expression hardens “You’re not protecting us. You’re making yourself weaker.”

You scoff “Oh, so I’m the weak one now?”

“Yes.”

The answer is immediate.

Your breath catches.

Zoro exhales, rubbing a hand down his face. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter.

“You rely on this power too much.” He shakes his head “What happens when you take too much? When your body can’t keep up?”

You look away.

He notices.

His voice drops lower “You don’t know, do you?”

You swallow hard.

Zoro sighs. When he speaks again, there’s no anger. Just frustration.

“You can’t keep fighting like this.” His gaze locks onto yours “Train with me.”

You blink “…What?”

“Train with me,” he repeats “You want to protect the crew? Then get strong yourself. Not through your Devil Fruit. You.”

You hesitate.

This is Zoro. The most stubborn, relentless, brutal fighter on the crew.

But deep down, you know he’s right.

You exhale “…Fine.”

A smirk tugs at his lips “You’re gonna regret that.”

Training with Zoro is hell.

You expect it to be hard, Zoro is one of the strongest swordsmen, after all. But you don’t expect him to be this relentless.

“You call that a punch?” he scoffs, blocking your attack with one arm “I’ve seen Chopper hit harder.”

You grit your teeth “I don’t need to be strong like you. I have my Devil Fruit.”

Zoro’s expression darkens “That’s the problem.”

Before you can react, he moves, sweeping your legs out from under you. You hit the ground hard.

Pain explodes through your body, but you refuse to transfer it away.

Zoro stands over you, arms crossed “If you lost your powers tomorrow, could you still protect the crew?”

You don’t answer because you don’t know, and Zoro sees it.

He sighs, holding out a hand “Get up.”

You glare at him, but take his hand anyway. He pulls you to your feet with zero effort.

“We’re doing that again” he says.

You groan “You just knocked me on my ass.”

“Then stop letting me.”

Over the next few weeks, something shifts.

Training with Zoro is brutal, but you keep up. You stop relying on your Devil Fruit in fights. You block, dodge, counter without using your power as a crutch.

And Zoro watches you closely.

At first, you think it’s just him being a tough mentor. But it’s not just that.

Because sometimes, when you push yourself too far, his frustration turns to something like worry.

You don’t question it. Not until the day everything changes.

The crew is ambushed on an island.

It’s not the worst fight you’ve had, but it’s bad enough. The enemy captain is strong, and before you know it Zoro takes a hit.

A deep slash across his chest. Blood spills onto the ground.

Your body moves before your brain does. You reach for him.

Pain floods your body as the wound transfers to you. Your knees buckle, breath hitching but Zoro catches you immediately.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” he snaps, eyes blazing.

You grit your teeth “Saving your life, dumbass.”

“I didn’t ask you to!”

“You didn’t have to!”

Zoro scowls. He grips your shoulders, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“You can’t just take pain like it’s nothing,” he growls “You think it doesn’t matter?”

You glare back “It doesn’t.”

“It does.”

His voice is low. Firm.

Your chest tightens “You wouldn’t get it.”

His grip tightens “I do get it.”

You freeze.

Because there’s something in his eyes, something familiar... and then, you remember.

You were awake when the Rumble Ball incident happened. The damage Luffy took at Thriller Bark. The moment Zoro stood covered in blood, refusing to say what happened.

And suddenly, it all makes sense.

Your breath catches “You took Luffy’s pain back then.”

Zoro’s jaw clenches.

You stare at him and his gaze softens. Just for a second.

Then he looks away “It doesn’t matter.”

But it does. Because now, you understand you and Zoro are the same.

You both take pain so the crew doesn’t have to.

But Zoro never let it break him.

And maybe that’s why he’s so angry now. Because he sees you going down the same path. And he doesn’t want that for you.

You swallow hard “…Zoro.”

His eyes flicker back to you.

For a moment, neither of you speak.

Then his voice is quieter “Don’t do that again.”

Your fingers curl into fists “I can’t promise that.”

Zoro exhales sharply “Then I’ll just have to stop you again.”

Your heart pounds.

Because the way he says it, it’s not just a threat. It’s a promise.

You and Zoro don’t talk about what happened.

Not at first.

The crew is too busy celebrating the win. Luffy’s laughing, Usopp’s boasting about some made-up feat, and Sanji’s grilling enough food to feed an army.

But Zoro stays quiet.

And you pretend your body isn’t aching from taking his wound. You pretend Zoro’s eyes aren’t constantly on you.

But you feel the way he watches you. The way his jaw tightens every time you wince.

And then, late that night, when the crew is asleep, he finally snaps.

You’re on the deck, staring at the sea, when you hear heavy footsteps.

Zoro stops beside you, arms crossed.

You sigh “Here to scold me again?”

“Tch.” He leans against the railing “Don’t act like you didn’t deserve it.”

You roll your eyes “I saved your life.”

“I wasn’t dying.”

“You were bleeding everywhere.”

Zoro gives you a pointed look “So were you.”

You open your mouth, then close it. Because he’s right.

You shift uncomfortably “I can handle it.”

Zoro scoffs “That’s what I said back then.”

You glance at him “What?”

His gaze darkens “It almost got myself killed.”

You’re confused but you don’t need the details to understand. Silence stretches between you.

Zoro sighs, rubbing his neck “I know why you do it. But you’re an idiot if you think you can keep this up forever.”

Your fingers tighten on the railing “…So what do I do? Stand there watching everyone getting hurt when I know I can do something about it?”

Zoro exhales sharply “Just let me help you.”

Your breath catches.

Because it’s not a demand. Not a command. It’s an offer.

You swallow hard “I don’t need—”

“Don’t start.”

You blink.

Zoro turns to you fully, expression serious “You need to stop acting like you’re alone in this.”

Your chest tightens.

Zoro doesn’t do speeches. He doesn’t waste words.

So if he’s saying this…

He means it.

“…Okay.” you murmur.

Zoro raises an eyebrow “Okay?”

You roll your eyes “Yeah, okay. I’ll let you help me. Happy?”

He smirks “Ecstatic.”

You laugh, shaking your head “Asshole.”

His smirk widens “You love it.”

Your heart stumbles.

Because he says it too casually. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s true.

You look away “Shut up.”

Zoro just chuckles. And somehow the weight on your shoulders feels lighter.

Training with Zoro doesn’t get easier.

If anything, it gets harder.

Every day, he pushes you past your limits, forcing you to fight without using your Devil Fruit, making you stronger on your own. You hate him for it, but you also hate that it works.

Your body stops aching as much. Your reactions get faster. Your movements sharper.

And Zoro never stops watching you. But you ignore that.

Until the day everything falls apart.

The training session is brutal.

Zoro blocks every attack with zero effort. He moves too fast, dodging your punches like they’re nothing.

You’re tired. Frustrated.

So when he steps in close, you react on instinct.

You try to sweep his legs, but he sidesteps, and suddenly, you’re off balance and before you can stop it, you crash into him.

Zoro grunts as you both hit the ground, hard.

And just then you realize where you landed.

Your body is on top of his. Your hands are on his chest. His very solid, very warm chest.

And Zoro is just staring at you.

His breath is warm against your skin. His hands rest lightly on your waist, like he’s not sure whether to hold you or let go.

Your heart pounds.

Neither of you move.

Neither of you speak.

And then, without thinking, you kiss him.

It’s quick. A fleeting brush of lips. But it’s enough. Because for a split second, Zoro freezes. His grip on your waist tightens as his breath catches. And that’s when it hits you.

What the hell did I just do?!

Panic floods your chest.

You pull away. Scramble to your feet.

Zoro sits up instantly, eyes wide “Wait!”

But you don’t. You turn and run.

Because holy shit, you just kissed Zoro and you don’t know if he wanted you to.

You avoid him after that.

It’s stupid. You know it’s stupid.

But every time you see him, you hear his sharp inhale. Feel his hands tightening on your waist. See the shock in his eyes.

And you can’t face that.

So you just... don’t.

You dodge his training sessions. You sit as far from him as possible during meals. When he walks into a room, you walk out.

The crew notices.

Luffy is confused. Nami is amused. Usopp keeps giving you looks.

And Zoro is pissed, because he might be shy, but he isn’t dumb. And you’re not subtle.

So after three days of this he corners you. And you realize, too late that you’re screwed.

You’re about to slip away again when you feel that familiar, heavy stare.

You freeze.

And before you can react a strong hand grips your wrist. You spin around.

Zoro stands there, arms crossed, brow furrowed. His eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“You,” he says, voice low, “are avoiding me.”

You swallow “No, I’m not.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow.

You try again “I’m just... busy.”

His jaw clenches “Bullshit.”

You flinch because Zoro never calls you out like this.

You pull your wrist free, looking away “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zoro exhales sharply and then “Is it because of the kiss?”

Your stomach drops.

Your entire body tenses.

You should have known he’d bring it up.

But hearing him say it out loud... you can’t breathe.

“I—” Your voice catches “I didn’t mean to—”

Zoro steps closer “Didn’t mean to what?”

You step back “Forget it.”

“No.” His eyes darken “I won’t.”

You clench your fists “Just drop it, Zoro.”

His hand catches your chin. Gently.

Your breath hitches.

“I’m not dropping shit,” he murmurs “You kissed me. Then you ran. Now you won’t even look at me.”

You force yourself to meet his gaze.

And fuck, he looks serious.

Your heart pounds.

“I thought…” You swallow hard “I thought you didn’t want me to.”

Zoro stares.

Then he curses under his breath, and before you can react his hand cups your face and he kisses you.

Not soft. Not hesitant.

But actually firm and certain. Like he’s making a point.

Like he’s saying “You’re an idiot if you think I didn’t want this.”

Your brain short-circuits.

Your hands fist in his shirt. You kiss him back desperate, dizzy.

His arms lock around you, because now that he has you he’s not letting go.

Zoro’s kiss is rough, unyielding.

Like he’s making up for lost time. Like he’s claiming something he should’ve had all along.

You barely have time to breathe.

His hand tightens at the nape of your neck, tilting your head just right, deepening the kiss until your knees threaten to give out.

You clutch at his shirt, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you standing, and maybe it is.

When you finally pull away, gasping, your head feels light, hazy.

Zoro doesn’t let go.

His forehead presses against yours. His breathing is uneven and when he speaks his voice is low, rough “Still think I didn’t want it?”

You shudder.

Your fingers tighten on his chest.

“…No.”

His lips curve “Good.”

The crew finds out immediately. Not because you tell them, but because, apparently, you’re both terrible at hiding it.

The next morning, you walk into the kitchen and the entire crew is staring at you.

You freeze.

“…What?”

Sanji smirks, leaning against the counter “So…you and the mosshead, huh?”

Your stomach drops.

Nami hums, sipping her coffee “Took you long enough.”

Usopp grins “You guys weren’t exactly subtle.”

Your face burns “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Luffy just tilts his head “Zoro was smiling this morning.”

You blink “So?”

Luffy grins “Zoro never smiles like that.”

Your mouth opens and then you hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

You turn and there he is.

Zoro strides in, yawning. He looks relaxed, more than usual, like he actually slept well for once.

Then his gaze lands on you.

And without hesitation he reaches out, grabs your wrist, and pulls you into his side casually, like it’s natural, like he’s done it a million times.

And when he notices the crew watching he just raises an eyebrow “…What?”

Silence.

Then Sanji groans “Oh, great. Now he’s even more unbearable.”

Nami just smirks “About damn time.”

Usopp whispers something about losing a bet.

And Luffy just laughs “Shishishi! You two are weird.”

Zoro just grunts “Tch. Whatever.”

But you see the way his fingers linger against your skin. The way his shoulders relax just slightly when you don’t pull away.

[isasweetie]

rafe’s reaction to prissy getting hit on at toppers party??

rafe usually trusted you on your own. you were a good girl, and a good listener. you never strayed too far away, but also, you were never tucked into rafe’s side for the entire night. you would hang out with your girls, and rafe could always watch from afar as you giggled and frequently adjusted your top whenever it would stray down south while you danced.

your third ‘date’ (if it even counted) with rafe was at one of topper’s parties. since then, you’d been to countless of them. topper was practically famous all around kildare for the events he’d throw. rafe would deal his drugs to make an extra buck, and you would tag along. his parties were always so fun, everyone was drunk and happy, there was a pool, and it was only kooks allowed.

well — it was supposed to be.

rafe’s dark blonde eyebrows furrowed in anger and confusion when he sees a pogue flirting with you. he didn’t outwardly recognize the pogue, but when you’re in kildare and you see someone wearing a cheap surf shop shirt and expired cologne, you know they’re not from figure eight.

you were kindly nodding along to whatever the pogue had to say, maybe being patient because the pogue was obviously drunk and stupid. your gorgeous eyelashes are fluttering up at him. when the pogue smiles, you smile. when the pogue says something funny, you laugh. rafe decides right there that he hates that.

he sits up from his relaxed position on the couch, stuffing whatever cash a woman just gave him in his pocket. he quickly pours the customer the line she bought, and then tells kelce to take over the deals as he stomps towards you.

a big figure is suddenly blocking your view from the pogue, walking the man backwards, away from you. this man is your boyfriend. embarassing.

“hey man, what’s up?” rafe asks, eerily nonchalant and relaxed. “watcha doing talking to my girl, huh?”

the pogue and rafe stop walking as he answers. “hey bro, relax, a’ight? didn’t know she was fuckin’ taken,”

“yeah? she didn��t tell you? or were you too busy staring at her tits to notice?” rafe counters.

the pogue stutters, and rafe mocks it, then shoves him by his shoulders. “yeah, thats what i fuckin’ thought—“

“rafe,” you try to stop him, stomping over in your kitten heels. “are you high?”

“back up.” is all he says to you, and you comply.

rafe grabs the pogue by the scruff of his shirt, muttering something with clenched teeth that you can’t quite make out. then he releashes him with a shove, muttering a, “you’re lucky she’s here, man, or you would be dead,” before grabbing you.

he’s done with the party, holding your upper arm as he drags you out. he walks past the couch to grab his coke, then gets you outside

when the crisp spring air hits you, he has questions.

“did he touch you?” he asks as he walks down the porch stairs.

“no.”

“did you touch him?” he asks when your feet hit the pavement.

“no.”

“did you tell him you got a man?”

“yes.”

“did you stay a few feet away from him?” he asks as he opens the door to his benz.

“yes.”

“good girl,” he ushers you into the passengers side.

the car ride is silent, rafe’s annoyance easing slightly but still lingering. you’re not sure what to say, what would ease his tension. he was pissed off at the man, and his mind wouldn’t seem to drop it. you could always see when rafe was thinking; his eyes would squint and his eyebrows would furrow. he looked as if he was having a headache.

you think with him as well, until you figure it out: how to calm rafe down.

you wait until rafe stops for gas. it’s early out, the gas station doesn’t feel as sketchy as usual. it reminds you how early you left from the party, just because of your boyfriends anger.

he gets out to fill the tank, and when he comes back in, he doesn’t see you in the passenger seat. his lip turns up in a confused scowl, until his gaze lands on you in the backseat. maybe that needs to be rephrased. his gaze lands on you, in the backseat, topless and in just your pretty pink lacy g-string.

“the fuck?” he mutters, confused but already feeling blood rush straight down south.

it’s your turn to ask the questions now. “wanna come in the backseat, baby?” you smile up at him oh-so-innocently, spreading your thighs a bit more.

all his jealousy dissipates instantly as his lips part and he nods. “fuck yes i do, baby,”

you always assumed rafe was a confident man. and he was confident in every aspect, including his relationship with you. but tonight almost changed that for you, when he pushed away a man who was simply starting conversation. you thought maybe he was jealous. but that crazy assumption seems to be gone from your mind the minute he’s in between your thighs, calling you his.

[sataneyu]

You know what? I'm crying.

I'm going to have a long post translated into English because I'm bad at English and because I have too many emotions. The fourth episode was definitely a bombshell. In many ways. They gave us a lot of interesting questions and NOT a SINGLE DAMN ANSWER, and it's not like it's a problem. It's cool that Ling Lin has finally begun to realize himself and his desires in isolation from the forced image. It's cool that he ran to save Moon and realized how important it was to him. It's cool that so many people supported him, he's a bunny/sunshine/bun/big guy (as you like it better) and all that. But...

They replaced Nice so quickly...

Okay, let's say again: it was literally publicly announced to the fans that their hero, the man they believed in all this time, was not only replaced by someone completely different, but also because he died. He is not tired, he has not resigned, he has not given up his heroic work, no. Died. And okay, thanks to Ling Lin for not talking about "suicide." He's talking about "death." You can take his words in any way you want (although that's not the point, but still). It just kills me to think that no one, except for the person who was really close to Nice (Wrek), began to grieve for him. Okay, it hasn't been a day since Lin Lin's revelation, I get it. But at the end of the fourth episode, we are shown how the advertisement with Nice's face changes to Linlin's face and no one seems to notice, as if it were....normal? Of course, when the heroes in the world are constantly changing each other and appear and disappear as if at the click of your fingers (yeah, yes, understood, understood at the click of your fingers ha ha) changing a hero at the tenth rank shouldn't be unusual, but... Do the previous heroes get forgotten so quickly?

The first three episodes were filled with the fans' love for Nice. Peculiar, but warm in its own way. They cheered for him, they came to fan meetings, they supported him as much as they could.....And they forgot about him so quickly? Just because.......and why, exactly?

I'm pretty sure they'll show us the backstory of what happened. There is no way such a complex and at the same time terribly interesting character could be so easily forgotten by its creators. Especially considering the shot that recently appeared on Twitter...

In general, the phenomenon of Nice's character and his popularity among the fandom is a topic for a separate conversation, we are not ready for this conversation yet.

But I know for sure that no matter how the creators made him, no matter how crazy, broken, abusive and generally unstable he actually is, I will be delighted.

(what's the point, I'll support him even if he decides to rise from the dead and kill all the other heroes)

((Go ahead, dear! You're walking the road of rage and revenge, and who are we to stop you?)) So! I'm leaving a small message here (rather for myself) because I know that we still have a lot of interesting things to learn about other characters and many of my thoughts will get lost in the flood of new information.

DON'T FORGET HIM.

Never forget that he existed. He was there. It all started with him. And probably it all will end with him.

[taylorman2274]

Today Is Where Your Book Begins (Chapter IV)

You find yourself in Teyvat thanks to the efforts of Alice and Aether, and along with that the answers to your questions have been found. But instead of feeling satisfied, you are left conflicted and confused. Not to worry though, Aether is here to guide you through everything, just like you have done for him.

Content Warning(s): N/A

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

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Taglist: @bunniotomia; @sarraisme; @chericia;

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.

..

…

You felt the sun hit your eyes.

Tiredly, you flipped your body away from the beaming rays. You let out a comforting sigh when your face hit the cool bedsheets.

.

..

…

‘…Wait… …Bedsheets…?’

Curiously, you opened your eyes…

…And immediately locked eyes with a man sitting across from you.

Startled, you quickly sat up, intending to question who the man was, but the sudden movement proved too much for your body to handle. You groaned, shutting your eyes and bringing a hand to your head as you felt a strong headache coming along. Furthermore, your body started to deflate, quickly becoming too tired to keep yourself upright. The man in the room hopped to his feet and rushed to your side, a worried expression on his face.

“Woah woah woah. Easy. Easy…” his gloved hands softly gripped your shoulders, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. “You need more rest. Your body is still recovering from the long journey. Try not to overexert yourself.”

Lacking the strength to refute, you reluctantly complied with the stranger’s words. However, you took the opportunity to come to a few conclusions about your current situation.

Number 1: Whoever this stranger is, he doesn’t appear to have any intention of hurting you. At least for right now…

Number 2: You definitely are not in the witch’s tent anymore. Last time you checked, tents didn’t have queen-sized beds and wooden walls. You couldn’t recognize where you were from just a quick glance, but something in your mind is telling you that there is some familiarity to the room you’re occupying.

Number 3: Speaking of familiarity…

…

Why does this stranger’s voice sound so freaking recognizable? It’s literally on the tip of your tongue…

But before you could think about it more, a cold hand came to a rest on your forehead.

…

Actually, cold might be an understatement. This hand is much colder than that. It’s… frigid?

‘But how? Isn’t he wearing gloves?’

Regardless, it helps alleviate your headache, which brings you a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry I don’t have an ice pack with me,” the stranger apologizes. “But hopefully this works as an alternative.”

You opened your eyes and looked toward the stranger, intending to give him your thanks, but you suddenly stopped.

…

“…Aether?” You slurred.

A soft smile grows on his face. “Yes, it’s me. Are you feeling better, Reader?”

Your head rolls to the side. Aether’s hand stays pressed against your forehead, his wrist joints glowing frosty blue. “…Reader…?”

Aether tilts his head. “Yeah, you’re our Reader.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “…Huh?”

The room becomes silent for a couple of seconds before Aether seems to understand something.

“Oh, that’s right. Alice mentioned that you might be out of the loop on a couple of things. I’ll do my best to explain everything to you.”

The next five or so minutes are spent by Aether explaining to you the story behind your arrival at his Serenitea Pot. He explains Alice’s plan on his end and how he believes she had a friend of hers in your world who owed her a favor.

‘That must’ve been Elise…’ you concluded.

“I know it’s not easy telling people that you come from other worlds, trust me, I’ve been there before,” Aether says. “It’s even harder telling someone that the ‘story’ they’ve been reading actually exists. Despite this, I hope this revelation hasn’t been too hard on you.”

You had recovered enough to the point where you could sit on the edge of the bed. It was true that your mind was racing, but you suppose fantasizing about this situation seemed to diminish your astonishment. Furthermore, seeing Aether in front of you — not someone in cosplay, there is no way anyone could replicate his golden eyes — which buries any doubt that this couldn’t be anything but real life. Not even a dream sounded like a realistic possibility!

“…Huh…”

Aether lets out a small chuckle. “You must be in shock and awe.”

“Can you blame me?” You shrugged your shoulders. “You even said it yourself. Explaining this to anyone is not easy at all.”

Aether nodded. “But you’re here now. And I’m glad I finally get the chance to talk with you.”

…

You smiled and tipped your imaginary hat. “Likewise.”

Aether’s smile grew wider as he reached out his hand. Thinking he was going for a handshake, you grabbed his hand but were surprised when he pulled you to your feet instead. You stumbled a bit, but you were quick to catch your balance. Aether was also looking ready to catch you.

“Do you mind if I bring you somewhere with me?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Where to?”

“How about a trip to Mondstadt?”

Your eyes widen in shock. You don’t think you’re ready for a visit to any major city. Especially one with so many people you know! Aether seemed to recognize your thoughts almost instantly.

“Not to the city! I know that you’re not ready for a city visit. You just got here after all. I only plan on taking you to the cliffs above Starfell Lake. It’s one of my favorite sightseeing spots.”

You sighed in relief. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m ready for any main city. A small town, maybe, but not any main area.” A sudden thought pops into your mind. “Wait. Will Venti be alright with this? I won’t be intruding on his nation, will I?”

“You definitely won’t,” Aether laughs. “You have nothing to worry about.”

You gave a nod of approval. Aether nods as well before placing his palm over your eyes. “You’re probably gonna want to close your eyes. It takes a while to get used to the waypoints.”

You follow his orders, and soon enough, Aether begins the teleportation.

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

You definitely felt a little dizzy once you and Aether teleported to Mondstadt, but it wasn’t as bad as the headache you had earlier.

“I always like to set up a portable waypoint here when I need a little time by myself.”

When Aether finally removes his palm, you slowly open your eyes before gasping in amazement.

Mondstadt looked even prettier in person. The sun shone on Cidar Lake, glimmering the water’s tides. You could see Mondstadt City standing proudly in the middle of the lake. Despite the giant stone walls surrounding its borders, the elevation you were at allowed you to peer over and spot the many red roofs that occupied the city. Additionally, you could see the statue of Barbatos erected in front of the cathedral near the back of the city. And last but not least, the city’s three windmills slowly spun, which brought your attention to the calm breeze that brushed against your skin and hair.

Outside of the city and lake, the grass, bushes, and trees covered the land in nature’s green, leaving a few strips of land open for the dirt paths for merchant carts and horse carriages to travel along.

Usually, such pretty sights and calm scenery would be interrupted by a yapping fairy.

…Speaking of said yapping fairy.

“Where’s Paimon?” You asked.

“She’s with Lumine for the day,” Aether replied. “Alice and I thought it would be better if your first visit to Teyvat was done one-on-one.”

Aether takes a seat on the cliff ledge, and only later would you come to realize that this particular spot matched the image on Genshin’s pre-installation screen. “So now that we’re here, I wanna hear about your story.”

“My story?” You questioned, sitting down beside Aether.

“Yeah, you’ve known my story for the past ten or so years, while I practically know nothing about you! I wanna know more about you, what your world is like, how you came across Teyvat’s ‘story’, everything!”

“I doubt I can explain everything to you,” you laughed at his enthusiasm. “But I’ll try my best.”

Like the five minutes Aether took to explain his and Alice’s plan, you spent the next five minutes talking about yourself, your family, the simplest details of your world, and how you first heard about Genshin Impact. All the while, Aether listened intently, asking questions whenever something piqued his curiosity.

“So it’s this device that allows you to guide us and not from any power that you possess?” Aether asks.

“Yeah…” you scratched the back of your neck. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“I’m not disappointed!” Aether exclaims. “What made you think I was?”

“I just thought that since you’re all powerful and all, you’d think that whoever was controlling you would either be someone of your equal or more powerful. But I’m not that powerful. I don’t have anything like a Vision, and I’m not a god nor some type of all mighty Creator-like being. I’m just…” You gestured at yourself. “I’m just me.”

Aether frowned at your self-deprecation. “I don’t care how powerful you are,” he puts an arm around your shoulder. “The only thing I care about is how you and Paimon were there for me when I was at my lowest. Lumine and I had never lost a fight before, but when we first encountered that god not only did we lose, we were also separated. That was probably my first time I ever felt lost. I had my power sealed and had no idea what to even do. But once I fished out Paimon and had you to guide me, you two helped me find the truth of this world and reunite with Lumine. And for that, I am eternally grateful.”

Aether’s words had you blushing so badly that you turned away in embarrassment.

“I really mean it,” he shakes your shoulder. “And it’s not just me, either. So many want to reward you as well. In fact, that’s all that everybody has been telling me for the past couple of days. Amber wants to treat you to a meal at Good Hunter. Gaming wants to treat you to some dim sum. Yoimiya wants to make your very own firework. Navia wants to invite you to the Tabletop Troupe.”

You held up a finger to stop him from rambling. “I’m sensing a pattern. So it’s really just the extroverts who are offering stuff.”

…

“Yeah, pretty much.”

You and Aether get a good laugh out of that.

“But you see what I mean. You’ve got so many people who want to meet you, and I don’t think most of them are gonna take no for an answer.”

You frowned. “I still think that they should know more about me before I meet with any of them. Like what I told you. They should know that, as far as who this person is, they’re just an ordinary human. Nothing special or anything. I don’t want to ruin any expectations they may have for me.”

“…You really gotta stop talking down on yourself,” Aether sighs. “Believe me when I say no matter who you say you are, your actions speak for themselves. And for that, you deserve praise.”

…

You softly smile. “Thanks.”

Aether smiles too before materializing a Kamera in his hands. “How about a picture together before I have to send you back?”

He gets up and walks away from the cliff ledge. After walking a few feet, he sets up the Kamera on a stand and sets up the automatic timer. He peeks around the Kamera. “Ready?”

You nod your head.

“Alright, get ready. We have ten seconds.” He turns on the timer before rushing back by your side.

You didn’t know what pose he wanted you to do, so you kept your hands in your pockets. However, Aether grabs one of your hands and brings it around his shoulder. You looked at him incredulously. “I thought you weren’t a touchy guy?”

Aether just looked at you, smiled, and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “I am now, [Y/N].”

Shrugging your shoulders, you looked back at the Kamera.

*click*

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

You unlocked the door to your apartment and walked inside. Home sweet home.

That unexpected trip to Teyvat left you exhausted. Time to get ready for bed.

You did your nightly duties: showering, brushing your teeth, changing into pajamas, and a quick drink of water that you’ll regret taking when you have to wake up to use the bathroom in four hours time.

‘A necessary sacrifice.’ You told yourself.

However, when you approached your bed, you saw something that wasn’t there before. A picture — one that you recognized almost instantly — along with a familiar-looking white flower and a letter.

Setting the flower and picture aside, you began to read the letter.

…

Here’s to many more memories.

- Aether

P.S. YOU BETTER COME BACK SO PAIMON CAN GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG EVER!!!

…

You don’t think the smile on your face can grow any bigger.

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

THE END

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

Author’s Notes: And that’s the end of this series! Probably won’t be a new one for a long while. There will be plenty of one-shots however, I’ve got plenty of ideas for some reverse isekai shenanigans.

Who knows, perhaps I'll make a one-shot extending this series someday.

[vampiricalxdata]

so that just happened

and what? we just have to wait a week?!

a week?!

I’ll just leave my heart in that closet I GUESS

(the most minor spoilers below)

THAT PILLOW TALK ARE YOU KIDDING ME

and I s2g if someone doesnt get jonah ryan’s ass

but seriously what else was nick supposed to do ?? like… the repercussions would have reached out for miles if he didn’t do that. yeah luke’s plan is dead in the water but he bought them time in other ways.

was he terrified for his life? absolutely. was it still the best option? considering the corner that man was in—1000x yes.

& tbh the rebels are sloppy af (june included). it was never gonna work. june knew that from jump. that’s why she was so ready to grab janine and run. girl didn’t have faith either. mayday needs better leadership—that’s your cue rebel! commander blaine.

I don’t rly see an ending where june and nick don’t make up after this. I don’t see an ending where this isn’t a bridge to better communication for them. This is a necessary conflict to a 5 season problem. It’s the answer to the question: how do we put them back together for good?

[chaiandcigs]

How Do You Measure Healing?

I just recently gotten my heart broken about 2 months ago. Healing is so crazy to me. Moving on? Am I moving on? Am I allowing myself to heal?That’s a hard question. Am I actively looking for someone? No. Am I holding onto hope that he comes back? Yes and no. Of course I would love for us to pick up where we left off. It feels like our time was cut short, we had so much things planned for us. But also, is it always going to be like this? Where he tries to self-sabotage and hurts me in the process. I can’t, it’s too much for my heart. But then again love isn’t supposed to be easy. But it also isn’t supposed to feel like an uphill battle.

This time around feels different. Have I not allowed myself to properly heal from my past relationships ? Now I’m starting to understand why people say healing isn’t linear. Prior to him, lets call him Mr Ziggy, I had always thought that with time, I will heal. “Time heals” is what I like to tell myself and others. Now, I realize that isn’t the case. Some days I’m like “Yeah fuck Mr Ziggy, his loss!” And I feel like I’m on top of the world, like anything can be thrown my way. Then other days I just lay in bed looking at my wall remembering every single detail of his face, his scent, his voice, and how it felt when we held hands. All I can think of is “Why couldn’t he be better for us”.

In those moments I start wondering if what I was feeling before was just a fluke. Maybe I’m not healing at all, what if I feel this way for the rest of my life. Obviously that isn’t the case because I’m in a much better place now than I was when it first happened.

So then I started to wonder and this is my question for all of you: How does one measure their healing? Can it be measure? How do we know we’ve done our healing? Will we ever be truly healed?

Is it when I can listen to music that reminds me of him without feeling like I want to cry? Even then, there are times where I listen to music that reminds me of him and I’m able to remember everything fondly. Then there’s times where i need to skip the song or I’ll feel a weight on my heart. Maybe it’s when you don’t feel anything? But doesn’t that dehumanize what you went through and belittle the beauty in human connection?

The longer I stay in my healing era the more difficult it becomes trying to answer these questions. Just the other day, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much it feels like I abandoned him. Even though I know that the decision I made was all I could do at the moment and I don’t regret putting myself first.

Luckily I’m at a point in my healing where I can recognize my longing and yearning. I know that I can’t be someone who shuts me out. When I love, I love hard. I need someone who knows what they want and what I bring to the table. Maybe that’s when you know you’re healing, you’re able to look at the situation and be okay with how things worked out .

[foxaftershocks]

A Meddling Brother (Mycroft Holmes x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Sherlock has an insane favour to ask you of you, but it might just end up getting you everything you ever wanted.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: jealousy

“You want to do what?”

Sherlock wasn’t even looking at you, eye pressed to the microscope as he searched for something. He’d summoned you to his flat with a text, expecting your appearance in that way he did. You’d entered the flat and without so much as a greeting he’d said the most out of pocket thing you’d ever heard.

“I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend to annoy Mycroft,” he said.

“Yes, that’s what I thought you said,” you replied. 

“You have questions,” he said.

“Bloody right I do,” you said, “mainly why?”

“Do you not listen? I want to annoy Mycroft,” he said.

“Sure but why?” you asked.

“He’s been keeping secrets,” he replied.

“If there’s one thing we can count on from Mycroft, it’s keeping secrets,” you said, “why would pretending to date me annoy him? I doubt he’ll care much.”

Sherlock snorted but didn’t answer your question. You rolled your eyes, falling back into his chair. 

“He’s going to know immediately we’re lying,” you said, “he’s better at the deduction thing than you are.”

He glanced at you before going back to his microscope.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said. 

“Fine, but don’t blame me when this doesn’t go the way you expect it to,” you said, “and you owe me a massive favour to be cashed in whenever I want.”

“Yes, yes, fine, whatever,” he said.

“Cool.”

You sat, watching him, waiting for some kind of further discussion or information but it appeared as if he was done. You curled up in the seat, picking up the book John had left lying around, choosing to read it while you waited for the next part of his plan. 

He didn’t seem surprised when Mycroft came calling not even half an hour later. You looked up from your book, smiling at him. He paused a moment, his eyes sweeping over you, so obviously lounging in his brother’s chair. Your legs were thrown over the arm, bare, still in your pyjama shorts. 

“Hi,” you said.

“Good morning,” he replied, “busy day for you it appears.”

“Can’t complain,” you said.

“I’m assuming my brother is here,” he said.

“Kitchen,” you said, opening the book once again, “been in there since I got up.”

Technically true, given the first thing you’d seen that morning was the text for him, asking you to come downstairs to him. You’d even made your own cup of tea in his kitchen, in your hands, half drunk as you continued to read. 

Mycroft’s eyebrows drew together. You looked up at him as you took a sip of tea, quirking an eyebrow. You’d always had a way of wordlessly communicating with Mycroft, understanding his facial expressions better than most. It was one of those things that made you think you could sometimes see the man under the ice. You quite liked the view you got.

“You’ve been here all morning?” he asked.

“Yeah. Why? Was I meant to be somewhere else?” you asked.

“He probably expected you to wake up in your own bed,” Sherlock called through to you.

“You spent the night here?” Mycroft asked.

“It’s been known to happen,” you said, “and Sherlock has a very comfortable bed.”

“He let you sleep in his bed?” He was full of questions today.

“Where else would she sleep?” Sherlock asked.

“Her own bed,” he replied, raising both eyebrows like it was obvious.

“I was hardly going to send her back up there when she was already in mine,” Sherlock replied.

His head was slow as it turned back to you. You gave him a small smile, going for bashful but perhaps coming off a bit smug. His lips pursed as he turned back to Sherlock. He stepped into the kitchen, obviously shutting you out of the conversation. You went back to the book, trying to ignore their hissed conversation.

You startled when a kiss was dropped on the top of your head, a warm body perching on the arm of the chair beside your head. You looked up, smiling at Sherlock. His arm curled around your shoulders.

“Can you get on with your reason for being here? Only we have lunch plans,” he said, his smug grin turning on Mycroft.

He was looking less than pleased at his baby brother, fingers tightening on the umbrella in his hands. You lent against Sherlock’s side, looking at Mycroft expectantly.

“I’ll have the files sent to you,” Mycroft said before sweeping out of the flat.

“He came a long way to just tell you he was sending you some files,” you said, “he could have phoned.”

“He planned on staying longer. Plans change,” he said, getting up from the arm of his chair and returning to his microscope. 

“Changed quick then,” you said.

“I told you. I was hoping to annoy him,” he said.

“And that worked, did it?” you asked.

“You know it did,” he said.

“I still don’t get why though,” you said, following him, resting a hip against the counter.

“Don’t you? It must be so quiet in your brain,” he said.

“Right. Thanks. Text me if you need me,” you said.

“Dinner tomorrow,” he said, “my parents are insisting.”

“Fine,” you called over your shoulder.

Sitting across from his parents reminded you why the whole thing was a stupid idea. Mycroft was glowering behind his menu, not looking at anyone, foot bobbing. It was close enough for you to feel it, almost close enough to touch your leg. Sherlock’s arm was slung over the back of your chair, telling his parents exactly how the two of you had fallen in love. Your eyes kept darting over to Mycroft who was doing his best not to listen. You lent towards him.

“You okay?” you whispered.

“Fine,” he replied, voice tight, still not looking at you.

You lent back, further into Sherlock’s embrace. Mycroft’s fingers tightened on the menu. You looked away, back towards his parents. If he was annoyed or unhappy it was on him to say so, not throw a tantrum like a child. You couldn’t imagine why he would be. Unless he didn’t want you there.

You’d been the buffer between himself and his parents multiple times before. It made no sense that this time he was annoyed at your presence. Hell, half the time you thought he enjoyed your company, lingering when you were around a lot longer than when it was other people. This was like a smack in the face. 

“Of course, we really must thank Mycroft. If he hadn’t sent us off to the Devon coast we never would have admitted this was something we both wanted,” Sherlock said.

“Oh Myc, you’re such a matchmaker. Always looking after Sherlock,” his mum said, grasping his wrist.

“Mycroft,” was all he said in a growl of a voice. 

It wasn’t until dessert that he looked up at you instead of moodily staring down into his own plate of food. Sharing a slice of cake with Sherlock, you happened to glance up, finding blue eyes staring back at you. You felt frozen, the absolute anger so unlike anything you’d seen directed at you from him.

A thumb grazed the corner of your lips. Your attention turned back to Sherlock, just in time for his lips to press to yours for a soft kiss. It was surprisingly nice, if unexpected. Who knew Sherlock Holmes was a decent kisser? He drew away, a soft smile on his lips. 

“You had some chocolate,” he said, voice low, intimate, making you wonder how he got so good at this. 

“Thanks,” you replied, equally soft.

The scrape of a chair made you jump. Mycroft was already striding towards the exit by the time you looked over. Sherlock settled more comfortably in his chair, leaning back. You dropped your fork to the plate with a clatter. 

“Okay, you've annoyed him, you can stop now,” you said, “it’s gone too far.”

“Yes, fine, go run after him,” he said with a wave of his hand.

You hated doing what you were told but you did want to follow Mycroft. So you did. Slipping past tables, you pushed out the front doors, expecting to have to chase him down. Looking down the street, you found him standing a few shops down, cigarette in hand, staring out at the rain.

Ducking under awnings, you made your way to him, trying to stay as dry as possible. He didn’t even glance at you as you stopped by his elbow, sheltered under this umbrella.

“That was quite the performance,” you said.

“You should return to the restaurant. Sherlock won’t like you being out here with me,” he replied.

“I don’t see why he’d care that much,” you replied.

It was a very droll eye roll that brought his gaze down to you. Your raised eyebrow only caused him to purse his lips. He brought the cigarette back to his lips, slow to blow the smoke out, away from you, still considerate even in his annoyance.

“You are his girlfriend. He is hardly my biggest fan. He would not want you to focus your emotional energy on me,” he replied, “not that I ever believed him capable of having a girlfriend.”

“Careful, Mycroft, you’re sounding bitter. Jealous?” You nudged him with your shoulder.

The look he gave you was so cutting you were shocked you were still in one piece. 

“You really don’t think he’s capable of having a girlfriend?” you asked when it became clear he wasn’t giving you an answer.

“Sherlock is hardly like you normal people. He’s never indicated it was something he wished for before,” he said, “you must be special.”

“I like to think so,” you said, looking down at your scuffing feet. 

When you looked up, he was gazing down at you with such an expression of aching you felt yourself reel back. You stared up into his face, trying to piece together why he would be looking like that. Why he would be so upset about you being with Sherlock. Why Sherlock thought you being his girlfriend would annoy him. 

A seed of hope began to bloom in your chest.

You lent closer, watching the way his eyes darted down to the place your arm brushed against his. He brought his cigarette back to his lips, inhaling deeply. You inched closer. His eyes darted down to you.

“Mycroft, are you jealous?” you asked.

“Why would I be jealous?” he asked, trying to look as if he was unbothered. You knew him better than that.

“You seem jealous,” you said. 

“There is no reason to be jealous,” he replied.

“No?” You inched closer, practically pressed against his side, “you’ve never wanted to be the one I was in a romantic relationship with?”

“You think highly of yourself,” he said.

“You’re deflecting,” you said, grinning up at him. 

“It doesn’t much matter, given your feelings for my brother,” he replied.

“And what are my feelings for Sherlock? Go on, do your deduction thing,” you said.

His eyes swept over you before he turned away, looking back out onto the rainy street. His cigarette was almost down to the filter, and you were certain once he was done he’d be walking away. There was no returning to the table after the exit he’d given. 

“Go on. Or aren’t you as good as you pretend to be?” you goaded.

“You’re comfortable around him and being in his space. You’re comfortable being physically close to him. You smile at him a lot. You enjoy spending time with him,” he said, “conclusion, you have romantic feelings for him.”

“Interesting,” you said.

“Is it? I don’t find it particularly so,” he replied.

“Well, I’m just wondering if those same things could be applied to someone else,” you said, “if you’ve noticed me having the same symptoms around someone else?”

“It would be rather unfriendly to my brother if I had,” he replied.

“So you’ve never seen me smile at another man a lot? Or enjoy spending time with another man? Or be comfortable being physically close to another man?” you asked, smiling up at him, your arm brushing his from how close you were. 

He didn’t answer, staring down at you, eyebrows drawing together. You waited, wondering if that big beautiful brain would be able to put the pieces together. 

“Are you suggesting you have romantic feelings for multiple people?” he asked.

“I’m suggesting that perhaps your conclusion is faulty,” you replied.

“Does my brother know?” he asked.

“That I’m not particularly interested in him romantically? Yeah I’d say so,” you replied.

“Then why was he playing happy families with you?” he asked.

“That’s a question for him,” you replied with a small shrug, “I’d rather find out why you were so jealous when you thought I did.”

“I’m not jealous,” he said.

“No? You weren’t hoping I’d flash my pretty smile in your direction?” you asked.

He dropped his cigarette, crushing it underfoot as he put out the smouldering end. You sighed, knowing he was about to walk away, taking the umbrella and your refuge with him. In desperation, you grasped his forearm. He froze, looking down at it, but you refused to let go until you got some answers. 

“Sherlock was right. It does annoy you that I’m with him,” you said, “why?”

“Sherlock is a meddling busybody.” he muttered.

“Why?” you asked again.

He didn’t answer, jaw clenching, staring down at you. Your fingers tightened on his forearm, refusing to let him out of the question.

“Mycroft,” you whispered, “why?”

He shook his head. You sighed, wondering why you bothered. You drew back, ready to step out into the rain and go home. You were tired of dealing with these brothers and the games they played, especially when you were put in the middle of them. You took a step away, tensing for the cold rain, only to find him following you with his umbrella.

“He believes I’m fond of you,” he said, “I suppose this was his way of forcing the issue.”

“Mycroft,” you said, heart doing a backflip in your chest.

“Of course this could have been his way of proving that you prefer his company to mine. Not a fact I needed to be demonstrated as it’s one I’m well aware of,” he carried on before you could say anything else.

“Why would you think that?” you asked.

“I know how I come across. I don’t collect pets like Sherlock does. I’m not built for it,” he said.

“Are you fond of me?” you asked.

“That’s irrelevant,” he said.

“Not to me it’s not,” you said.

“Yes, I suppose I’m fond of you,” he said.

“It’s a good thing I’m not dating Sherlock then, isn’t it?” 

You pushed up onto your toes, hand curling around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He jerked back, a full story of emotions going over his face. Horror filled you. Stumbling back, your heart was thudding in your chest. You’d overstepped the line so completely. 

The wash of cold water left you gasping for breath. 

“Sorry,” you said to him, still sheltered under the umbrella, “oh god, I��m so sorry.”

You were ready to turn tail and run. He was never going to want to see you again, Only then he was dropping the umbrella and reaching for you. He swept you up into his arms, kissing you like a drowning man finding air. You wound your arms around his neck, letting him lift you as he kissed you with a desperation that took your breath away. 

“Isn’t that just so romantic?” a familiar voice said, breaking through your haze.

He was slow to lower you back to the ground, careful with you, almost gentle. When he did, you didn’t want to turn away, knowing you were going to find an audience watching on and that would be more than you could handle. Embarrassment was already eating away at you, the cold from the rain not making it any better.

“Couldn’t you have waited until I didn’t have to be around to see that?” Sherlock asked, sounding like a whining teenager. You rolled your eyes.

“No,” Mycroft replied, curling an arm around you protectively.

You turned, finding Sherlock and his parents safely sequestered under the closest awning. Mycroft stooped to retrieve his umbrella, lifting it above your head, sheltering you once more from the rain. His arm tightened around you as you began to shiver, keeping you pressed against him.

“Oh leave him be, Sherlock,” his mum said, swatting at his arm, “don’t ruin this for him. It’s his first time in love.”

“Is it?” you asked, looking up into his face.

“I told you. I’m not built for this,” he said.

“You are when it’s with me,” you replied, pressing up onto your toes to press a soft kiss to his lips. His low groan was soft enough only you could hear it, a giving in to you, a relief that he was getting what he’d been yearning for for so long.

“Seriously, can’t you contain yourselves?” Sherlock asked.

“Nope,” you replied, “it was lovely seeing you again, Mr and Mrs Holmes. I hope you enjoy the musical.”

You grabbed Mycroft’s hand from your back, threading your fingers together. Tugging on him, you began to walk down the street, not really sure where you were going, but knowing you wanted to be alone with Mycroft. He followed you, letting you lead, looking a little dazed.

“I suppose Sherlock also knew that I have a crush on you,” you said, musing on it, “he really was playing matchmaker.”

“Don’t give him the benefit of the doubt. He wanted to vex me,” he replied.

“Still, it worked, didn’t it?” You squeezed his hand.

“Yes, I suppose it did,” he said, gazing down at you.

Your shoulder bumped against his arm. You couldn’t keep the grin from your face, not able to keep your eyes from darting up to him. It was hard to believe this was actually happening, that Mycroft wanted you too, that he was allowing you to do this with him. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“That I’m lucky,” you said, “that I’m really really lucky to be here with you.”

Something in him softened, a small smile on his face lighting him up. 

“I believe I’m the lucky one, my dear,” he said.

“We’re both pretty lucky,” you said.

He paused at the lights, bending slightly to press a kiss to the top of your head. You tipped your head up, and he took your unspoken instructions, kissing you softly. You sighed, certain you were never going to grow tired of the feeling. 

“Definitely lucky,” you murmured when he pulled away.

Who knew a meddling Sherlock might just be the best thing to ever happen to you?

[mystycalypso]

Hello, me again. This time for your Actor AU, what was it like for the couple to realize that they both got casted in the same show, and these roles in particular.

I can see Jonh as a semi-well known actor who got Mr. Boxx role. Meanwhile his partner, despite his appearance, was just a supportive guy who wanted to see the acting process at the studio and ask John if he could tag along.

While being there to support Boxxer, around the same time whoever originally was gonna play Laserblast quits or is a no show. Desperate for a new Lazer, this turned into a blessing I disguise when they found the myth himself. To the director, he looked too good to be true. But after getting to know him a bit and have him say a few lines. He ended up getting the role of Lazerblast.

(Do with my made up story as you will, I just wanna see how this couple works as actors in these roles pretending they don't like eachother.)

I do like this idea, however, not exactly what I'd had in mind, but tbf that all has to do with- why I made the au designs in the first place

Laser started out acting as a teen. He was much shrimpier, very young, pretty boy, young, Zach Efron, typa thing. The kind of actor that was probably a lot of people's teen crush way back when. He wasn't in as much as he got older and mostly continued acting as a 'projects I find fun first' job (like Nick Cage basically) , which is when he got his role as Laser. He really enjoyed it, especially since he didn't have to do things like wear flippers over his tooth gap, and despite not having kids of his own, he clicked really well with the bodega trio's actors. He and John met on set, John's acting career being more irregular/small roles normally, and they bonded over the years the show was airing, getting married before filming of season 3 started. (Kind of inspired by how Spiderman's actor almost always ends up dating the MJ actor)

But anyway, here's the- entire reason I made these designs haha (I couldn't break it all into drawings so be sure to read the text in between for context)

He grumbles about how audience manners keep dropping year to year

Dynamite Watkins: Oh my, seems like our audience is raring to go! Why don't we just jump into our Q and A section?

"Yeah. Sure."

The first questions are innocent enough, whether or not he likes fingerless gloves normally (he doesn't mind them, but he prefers not to wear them off set as his hands get sweaty), what his relationship is like with K.O. off set, etc. Until someone asks him to clarify his name as they want to know what other work he's been in. In the middle of him answering, someone else jumps in to ask if he enjoys being referred to as Laserblast by fans.

He seems visibly more annoyed the more this happens. Always being cut off by an audience member. The last question was the same person from before, awkwardly asking for clarification again, this time, the B roll footage they'd prepped began blasting from the sound systems, much louder than he can manage to yell over them

Finally, after they get it mostly fixed, and the credits are rolling, Dynamite accidentally calls him Laser, and he loses it, standing up and accidentally blocking his own name, the entire time it's on screen.

"...I uh- I don't think we're gonna be able to air this one, Cam..."

(Yes, I created these entire designs and stuff just for a joke about Laser not having a real name again. I like this bit that much wheeze)

[queef-of-fortune]

Marionette (Doflamingo X Reader)

Chapter Thirty-seven:

Plot: When the Straw Hat crew got separated, Kuma sent her to the kingdom of Dressrosa.Unfortunately for her, she caught the eye of none other than the king himself. Donquixote Doflamingo.

The next afternoon, Violet and (Y/N) sat alone together in an awkward silence. Violet didn’t dare try to read her mind again. Not after last time. Instead, she tried to talk to her and attempt to earn her trust at Doflamingo’s request.

(Y/N) was being extremely uncooperative. She wasn’t as stupid and naive as he wished she was. But then again, maybe that’s what he loved the most about her. It was obvious to her that Violet wasn’t interested in true friendship, she only was following orders. It all seemed so methodical. Like she had no real plan.

Violet tried her hardest to interact with her.

“What was your childhood like? Did you have any friends? What about school? Did you go?” She seemed rather eager to learn about (Y/N)’s prior education. Of course, she just sat and gave vague answers like, “It was okay I guess.” Or “yeah.” And then she’d go back to her book.

After about an hour of Violet trying to coax out some real answers, she finally realized that maybe she needed a new approach. Something they could potentially bond over. There was only one thing that came to mind.

“I’m sorry.” Violet suddenly apologized.

(Y/N) peeked up from her book, brow raised as Karma purred happily in her lap.

“Sorry for what?” She responded rather coldly.

“For bothering you. Doflamingo put me up to it, you see.” Violet explained.

“Oh no shit?” (Y/N) replied sarcastically, shoving her nose back into her book.

Violet sighed, feeling rather defeated but she knew she’d be punished if she came back with nothing.

“It’s just that— “She paused for dramatic effect, hoping to grab her attention.

(Y/N) huffed in return, slamming her book shut in irritation. The disturbance made Karma scowl and hop down into the floor, immediately bathing herself in displeasure.

“What?” (Y/N) said impatiently.

Violet was almost appalled by her crass response but kept her composure.

“He wanted me to learn more about you.” She confessed.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and scoffed in disgust.

“Well you can tell him, that I said he can go fuck himself. Did he think I didn’t know what he was up to?” (Y/N) spat rather harshly, squinting her eyes and leaning forwards.

Violet’s mouth dropped at her hateful remark. She began to stutter and couldn’t seem to find anything to retort with. She knew Doflamingo surely wouldn’t be pleased. (Y/N) then leaned back into her chair, looking rather relaxed. Almost as if she didn’t just cuss Violet out just now.

“Look,” she said, “it’s nothing personal. I just can’t fucking stand him.” She tried to explain.

Violet closed her mouth and nodded in agreement.

“Yes, I’m not exactly a fan of his either but I do what I have to.” She admitted.

“Why?” (Y/N) asked.

That was a tough question. Doflamingo single handedly destroyed this country. He pretended to be the hero to save Dressrosa but he was the reason for King Riku— Her fathers downfall. Violet wasn’t willing to give up information if (Y/N) wouldn’t either.

“Tell me something that I can tell Doflamingo and I’ll tell you why I’m here.” Violet attempted to bargain with her.

“Like what?” (Y/N) cocked her head to the side.

“How long did you go to school for?” She asked.

“I started school young, probably four. Graduated at eighteen, then went to college for a couple of years before I ended up a pirate.” (Y/N) answered honestly.

She hoped that that information would be enough to please Doflamingo and keep Violet out of trouble.

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear that.” Violet replied happily.

“Now you.” (Y/N) didn’t forget about their agreement.

Violet sighed, the smile dropping from her face before answering, “It was about eight years ago, my father was the king of Dressrosa. That was until Doflamingo forced him and the guards to attack the civilians using his strings. Then he— “Violet seemed to be getting choked up. “He had my sister killed. I promised to work for him if he let my father live.”

(Y/N) was stunned by her confession. It only fueled her hatred for Doflamingo even further.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” (Y/N) hung her head in shame, feeling guilty she made her relieve such events.

“It’s not your fault.” Violet’s voice cracked as she spoke.

She then stood, flattening out her dress before she retreated towards the library doors.

“Excuse me, I have to go report back.” She said, her back turned to (Y/N).

Doflamingo sat alone in his office, mindlessly scribbling his signature down on every document that required it. His mind wasn’t focused on his work like it should have been. It was always on her. Periodically, his eyes would find themselves drifting in the direction of the swing he had placed for her. It sat empty and still. Completely vacant.

How he wished that perfect little body of her was curled up inside of it. He was desperate for her company. He had been so lonely all afternoon. Yet he controlled the urge to hunt her down. He knew she would be with Violet. He instructed them to spend time together.

He hoped she’d come back with some useful information—

Just then, the sound of the wooden doors creaking open broke him from his thoughts. Violet peered inside.

“Is this a bad time, Young Master?” Violet spoke softly.

“No, no, perfect timing, sit.” He said excitedly, placing his pen down and urging her to sit across from him.

He poured them both a glass of wine hastily, before shoving one of the large glasses in her dainty hands.

“So,” He leaned back in his chair comfortably, “What did you find out? What did she tell you?”

Violet swirled the contents of the glass, staring down into the crimson liquid that rimmed her cup.

“Promise you won’t be mad?” Violet said just above a whisper.

Doflamingo’s expression shifted inhumanly fast.

“Tell me.”

Violet took a deep breath.

“She told you to go fuck yourself.”

Violet closed her eyes tightly, waiting for him to hit her or scream, maybe throw that wine back in her face. But instead, he just laughed. Cackled even. Doflamingo threw his head back in boisterous laughter. It was so loud it shook the frames on the walls.

Once he contained himself, he leaned forwards, resting his elbows on the desk as he wiped faux tears from underneath his shades.

“Go on,” he urged, waving his hand lazily, “What else did she say?”

Violet was taken aback. She didn’t expect this kind of reaction from him. She just stared in a stunned silence for a moment, unsure how to continue.

“I-I um— she said she started school at four and graduated at eighteen.” Violet muttered.

“What else?”

“She also said she went to college for a couple of years before she became a pirate.”

“College huh? What school did she attend?” He asked.

“I didn’t get that out of her.” She hung her head shamefully.

Doflamingo let out an unsatisfied ‘hmph’ but continued. “What did she go to college for? What did she study?”

Violet just shook her head. “I don’t know, sir. She wouldn’t say.”

Doflamingo wasn’t thrilled with that reply, but he seemed happy enough.

“An educated woman…” He murmured more to himself than Violet.

After an awkward moment of silence, he shooed her away lazily.

“Go on, you’ve done well. You’ll be rewarded… Eventually.”

And with that she bowed her head and left. Doflamingo sat in his office for the next hour just thinking. He wasn’t working, he wasn’t drinking himself to death. Just thinking. The glass of wine remained untouched on his desk.

He’d never been with a woman who had any kind of college education. In all honesty, he preferred to fuck stupid women. It’s not like he loved them. Hell, he didn’t even like most of them. But she was different; she was something else entirely. No one had ever spoken to him that way before.

He wanted her badly. Each passing day he grew hungrier for her. He craved to hear his name on her tongue, to feel her quiver beneath him. It was beginning to drive him mad. Sleeping next to her wasn’t enough. Her defiance wasn’t enough. He needed her to love him. No question about it.

Doflamingo removed his glasses and closed his eyes, leaning so far back it almost flipped his chair. He replayed her memory over and over again in his deranged mind. The sight of her little hands working that pen onto the paper before her. He wondered what kind of student she was.

Was she top of her class? Maybe a troublemaker? Potentially even a class clown? The thoughts didn’t stop. What did she major in? Something in the medical field perhaps? Maybe literature? Or history? The possibilities were endless, and he so desperately needed to find out for himself.

He shot up from his chair, pushing his glasses back onto his face before striding out of the room in search of his lover. Of course he found her in the library, where else? She was curled up in the same chair as yesterday, reading his favorite book. The one she picked out all on her own.

“So, you think I should go fuck myself, huh?” Was the first thing he said as he barged through the doors,

He didn’t hide his presence this time. He strode in loud and confident, letting the double doors slam shut behind him.

(Y/N) jumped in her seat, wide eyed and surprised by his sudden entrance. His feathered coat billowed behind him as he walked towards her, stopping only a few feet away.

“I bet you’d like to watch too, wouldn’t you little bird?” He grinned broadly at his own crude statement.

She sneered in return.

“Fucking gross.” She murmured under her breath before sticking her nose back into the pages of her book.

He quickly snatched the book from her grasp, receiving a ‘hey!’ in protest as she reached out for it. He of course had five feet on her and held it high above her head.

“So, I hear you’re a college girl.” He teased. “Tell me about that, won’t you?” He pretended to beg, not convincingly so either.

“Tell you what exactly?” She crossed her arms across her chest, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“What did you study? I’m dying to know.” He squatted down on her level, still grinning ear to ear as he always did.

“Does it matter?” She retorted.

“Of course it matters,” He reached out a hand, gently stroking her bottom lip with his thumb.

She didn’t jerk away. She just sat there, looking out the window as if he weren’t caressing her.

“Psychology.” She answered plainly.

He removed his thumb from her lip, seemingly satisfied.

“Oh, so you are my little master manipulator, aren’t you?” He teased again.

She didn’t reply, just huffed. Still keeping her eyes away from his.

“Oh, now don’t be that way little bird, I’m only teasing.” He continued to rub against her lip with his thumb.

“We’ll talk after dinner. Come.” He stood, reaching a hand out to her.

She took it, just like she always did, and allowed him to lead her away from the one safe spot she had left.

[zenkor123]

WIP Weekend

“Did she ever visit you before you became a citizen” Leeg asks

Peeta, answers following his orders, to answer every question asked truthfully, even if the rule is being abused in this case. Tong and Leeg were on his rotation as guards yesterday, though they never served their rotation, Finnick did so instead, but their names in the rotation roster ensures that they are owed total honesty. When they tried this yesterday and asked Peeta about his time in the games, Peeta complained but the commander of Training Center 42 made it plain, total honesty towards guards. Sometimes Peeta thought to himself, District 13 made no sense.

He sits up.

“Not really, except for after Finnick's wedding, she didn't see me that often. I mean when they had me train here for propos, she was glaring, stewing, and complaining to Plutarch, but  I just ignored her, and pretended she wasn't there. "

"I bet she was shitting her pants" Leeg gleefully says.

Peeta stares at her

"Was Kat shitting herself yes or no" Leeg continues.

"Her name is Katniss and no, she wasn't shitting herself, she was just a bit nervous " Peeta says.

"Have you ever seen Catpiss shit herself" pushes Leeg,

Peeta remembers "when I ate with her in the cafeteria, I’m not kidding, the second Katniss saw me, it looked like she was about to spit out her drink. But that's not quite shitting her pants."

Tong says "it so is, didn't Annie say your the reason Catpissy went to 2 rather then any noble motive?"

"Dells told me that before her trip to the nut, Katniss watched me ranting. It is said that my insane screeching drove her all the way to District 2. I don't know if that's true, I think she just wanted space after I strangled her."

Leeg tells him, “When you invited Pissy did she show you any compassion? Or was it all about her?” 

“It just hasn’t gone well, I’m not proud of the way I treated people back then. I was something of an ass, even to Prim, and one time when I lashed at Johanna, I got a well deserved punch in the face. Today is the first day we've been civil to each other since my rescue. I still don't know why she even made the visit, or why she even bothered with Haymitch's updates. Did I answer your question? Or do you have more?" Peeta hopes that they are done.

“She's a piece of work, we all know that, we love listening to your roasts of Catpiss, I bought a tape recently, it’s comedy gold! I order you to tell us about the time you visited her.”  Tong says 

Peeta rolls his eyes “Where did you get the tape?” Peeta is mad and he wants to have it destroyed.

Leeg says: “An order is an order, comply, forget about the tape” 

Peeta continues: “When she came for some reason, I made sure to strike where it hurt. Back in 12 she was forced to be a star-crossed lover even in private. Cheating on Gale must have messed her up, but it didn't matter to me, I twisted the knife and called her a peice of work for all her troubles. And that's not all, you see, I was trying to find out why Peeta Mellark loved her, while insulting her at the same time. "

Tong says "Yeah she's short and ugly, and not particularly nice"

"That’s literally the bar I set, childish mudslinging." Peeta complains.

"It's the only bar Catpiss deserves, your orders are to reveal, what else? " Tong Says.

"In the cafeteria I was so petty, that I roasted an entire table. I joked about taking Annie from Finnick, and she was still mad at me about it when I reached out to them. I'm glad, they were willing to forgive me. Katniss seemed pretty devastated by the things I said to her, that shallow look in her grey eyes speaks for itself." Says Peeta

Leeg and Tong break out in laughter, and Tong says while laughing; "We know that look, we've seen it before as we were hosing her down"

Peeta feels disgust towards them, and tries to ignore them, he continues wondering if there is anything intimate in the hurt he caused her. "I’m not sure if she was just insulted or if my words have some sort of effect on her. Does she actually care about what I say because I’m the one who said them? No, I think she was just another person I bullied, which is a good thing since I said some nasty stuff to her.” he says.

“Shallow teenage relationships aren't the same thing as real love, lovers don't abandon each other  in their time of need” Leeg says 

“Yeah, I know that's what Coin said!" says Peeta

“And Coin as always is right” Tong says

Peeta says, “I've thought about it alot, and gone over all my interactions with her, I'm not Katniss but she could just as well be grieving me, and it would look no different from not caring at all. If Katniss was my lover and not Gale’s I don’t want to know the effect my words would have on her."

Peeta feels a relief that Katniss and he were not really lovers, that he's just a human muttation meant to kill, not emotionally maim. He just can't wrap his head around the idea that Peeta Mellark was loved, but it's just a scenario, his memories provide no answers, and some questions will never be answered. But he knew what Peeta Mellark wanted the most was to be unconditionally loved and to be loved back, it was so sad. He hoped that when he got better he would succeed where Peeta Mellark failed even as a human muttation. As he healed with 13's help he would be indistinguishable from any human. Peeta thought about how all the charm in the world could not give Peeta Mellark what he wanted, how his mother Myrna never fell for him. It isn't only the worthy who are loved, even the vilest creature can be loved, but Peeta Mellark put on a masks and was loved by no one. Who would love someone who's very existence is a drain on others? The shame of this consumed Peeta Mellark even if Mellark didn't know for sure who his father was, trying to overcompensate,Peeta reasoned created a person who deep down everybody knew was a fraud.

Leeg says: "Wake up!"

"Oh, sorry, what were you asking?" Peeta asks.

Tagging

@mollywog @persephoneprice @rosegardeninwinter @waywardangel-wilds(what's in the next chapter of a boy a girl and everything else? @strawberrymelllark @mega-aulover @writejenwrite @justafewberries @pitualba2015 @bentknife @tenaciousmoneymuffinzine @fyreflys @arthdoesart @dumbasswhorebug @the9thring @unnamednarrator @tryingssss @cutpaperbleedswater @arxhslayer @cutchh @eleanorjane0690

[spaceprincess04]

Just a lil sun from my drafts… this is like a year and a half old, but enjoy!

It’s day three of the press tour and you’re learning more and more about your co-workers, outside of what you’d usually chat about on set. You’re now at the Vanity Fair interview where you literally have to play a guessing game with two of your co-stars about their personal lives.

“What’s a fun fact about me? I guess there’s not just one answer to this, so answer this one freely?” Michael reads the card he pulled aloud.

“Oh, easy. You love basketball.” Jonathan eagerly answers.

Michael nods, “very true. More so when I was younger, cause I liked to play a lot. I still love to watch though.”

“You only have one tattoo. Makeup crew always covers it for films, of course, but it’s hella cool.” I answer when my turn comes around.

“Yep. I have the outline of Africa and the eye of Horus tatted on my left shoulder.” He Winked, which was very unnecessary if you ask me.

“Of course she would know that.” Jonathan gave me a pointed look. This man always accuses Michael and I of having a crush on each other.

“Well I find it to be a form of method acting, staring at Michael's shoulders. It’s very crucial part of playing Bianca.” It’s my turn to wink at the camera. The fans are going to have a field day with that clip, I can just see the edits already.

“Anywassss! If I were a drink, what would I be? Wait, regular drink or spirits?” You look past the camera, asking the interviewer.

“Either or” she answers.

“Let’s do spirits.” Your costar Jonathan helps you decide.

“Cool, okay. I’ll write my answer now so you guys can guess..”You finish dragging your sharpee along the piece of paper the crew provided you with.

“Coffee martini? I don’t know, Just kinda seems like your vibe.” Jonathan answers with uncertainty.

“You know, I’ve never had one. It’s crazy because i loooovvveee coffee, which Jonathan knows. I’ve just never been brave enough to mix coffee and alcohol.” You shrug. “So, no. That’s not the answer I wrote.” You laugh, patting Jonathan on the arm.

“Awe, man.” He replies and puts his head down in mock shame.

“She grew up around southern folks, so i’ma go with whiskey.” Michael answers.

“You, you are correct. I’d be a glass of Maker’s, neat.”

“Oh, yeah?” Mike responds.

I smirk at the camera before bursting into laughter. “Please don’t take me seriously, y’all. I cannot be serious for very long. Who’s turn is it next?”

“That would be me. This one’s easy, what do I take with me everywhere?” Jonathan takes a couple seconds to write.

“Your cute little cup, of course.” You make a tea drinking jester with your pinky out.

“I do not drink like that, but yes I always have a mug with me. I have about.. three? in rotation.”

“You definitely do drink like that.” You pretend to whisper to him.

“Yeah your mug and your speaker for sure.” Mike nods.

“Yes, the speaker was second on the list.” Jonathan reveals his paper.

“Alright, last one.” Michael pulls the last card. “Aside from acting, what is my other talent?”

“Trick question? Directing?” Jonathan questions.

“Tap dancing? No, I’m kidding.” I ponder over what his hidden talent could be.

“Oh wait, are you gonna say basketball?” Jonathan slaps his knee, clapping and laughing as he looks away.

“You’re a piece of shit.” Michael responds in between laughs.

“Ummmm” you drag out my response, trying to create more time to think.

“Damn, do y’all know me?” He turns his card around and it reads ‘cooking’

“I don’t, I need you to make a meal for us to refresh our memories.” You point in between Jonathan and yourself.

“Ooooh, yeah. No, no, I knew that.” Jonathan rubs his eyebrow.

“What? Yes guys, I cook all my food. When I’m bulking, I get the meal plan from the nutritionist and do the cooking.” He speaks into the camera.

“No way. What can you cook? Chicken and Broccoli?” you cracked yourself up, squeezing your sides from laughter and everything.

“Wow, I really am going to have to cook for you now. You’re doubting me?”

“I believe my brother. If he says he can cook, he can probably cook.” Jonathan joins in the banter.

“Alright. Y’all name it, I’ll cook it at the crib TONIGHT! Y’all not gone play with me like this.” He’s dead ass serious right now.

“Okay then, do a seafood boil.” You raise a brow at him to see if he’s bluffing or not.

“Bet.”

“Okay, we’ll see. That shit better not be nasty, Mike.” I’m still laughing when I tap Jonathan. “Watch us pull up and his chef is leaving at the same time.”

“You can watch me cook it if you want to stay that long. I’ll even film it for y’all.”

“No, you’re good. We believe you, bro.” Jonathan straightens his face into a more serious expression.

“What time will I see y’all then?”

“You’ll see y/n whenever she’s free.” Jonathan pats your shoulder.

“What? Why can’t you be there? I’m not going through this alone. I’m scared, guys.” Your eyes widened in the lense of the camera, as if the fans could see me live and come to your rescue.

“I have a thing.” Jonathan tucks his lips, trying to hide the taunting expression.

“That’s bull. what thing do you have?”

“I already made the commitment to myself. I gotta do my post press-tour self care routine. Self care is very important, to all my fellas out there. Bubble baths, face masks, and whatnot.”

“Oh booo! Forget you and your pink bathrobe.” You scoff.

“How do you know what color his robe is?” Michael’s eyebrows knit together followed by the straightening of his spine. You can hear some of the camera crew snickering in the back.

“I don’t, I was made the joke from that one magazine cover he did.” You shrug, not quite noticing the change in the man’s body language.

“I’m appalled. My bathrobe is actually red. My favorite color, in case y’all were wondering. Sorry bro, I can’t make it tonight. You’ll have to let me know in the group chat how it was, y/n.”

“Yeah yeah whatever, sassy man. I’ll be there sometime after 7, Mike. Oh, and another fun fact about me is,” you turn your attention back to the camera “ I can’t eat seafood in nice clothes. I will be pulling up in my non-interview clothes.”

When it’s time to close out the video everyone does their outro. “Welp, looks like I don’t know Michael B Jordan very well. Thanks for tuning in, be sure to check out Creed III in theaters.”

…

You finished your interviews for the day that you had with other cast members and went home to shower, relax and reset. Then, you remembered you had one more thing to do.

It’s half past seven when you pull up to Michael's place

in a ‘I heart dilfs’ baby tee, comfy shorts, and some pink hello kitty bling flip flops.

No later than ten seconds after the doorbell rang, your handsome co-star himself opens the door to greet you with a smile. “Y/n” he steps to the side, allowing you to walk in and closing the door behind you.

“You look cozy.” You comment, pointing to his basketball shorts and wife beater. “Nice shoes” you knew he was a sneakerhead, those retro ones are dope and hard to get.

“Ah, thanks. I was just tryna keep up with you.” He refers to your earlier comment made at the interview about how you dress when eating seafood. “‘I love Dilfs’, huh?” He smirks at your shirt.

“Yup, that includes Amara’s dad.” You wink in his direction

A hand meets the small of your back as he guides you to the kitchen. “Aight, this is what I got. I’m finishing up right now, so don’t try and say I ain’t cook this shit.” He warns.

“Ouuu, it smells good in here. I’m not gone lie, I’m kinda excited.” Your mouth is in the verge of salivating.

Michael takes the last of what he’s frying off of the stove and turns the fire off. “Okay, so we got crab of course, with the potatoes, corn, and sausage in it. We also got garlic noodles and fried butterfly shrimp on the side.”

He fixes a big hefty ass plate and walks over to the table. “This is for me or you?” You quirk your brows.

“Girl, sit down.” He laughs, scooting your chair out for you to sit at this huge glass table.

“What do you want to drink?” He asks walking back to the kitchen.

“Water is good, thank you.”

“Oh, I got some of those food gloves and bibs. I know you got your nails done and shit.” He chuckles, handing them to you.

“Oh, thank you!”

When he’s brought drinks for the two of you, y’all settle at the table and you prepare to eat your words as well as his food because it smells good. You just know you won’t be able to trash it.

“Damn man, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to shit talk you anymore. Let me just get into it. You, Jonathan, and the whole vanity fair crew are anticipating my reaction.” You crack open a crab leg, dip the meat into the sauce and pop it in your mouth.

His gaze is fixated on you. He hasn’t moved his fork not once, too excited to know what you think.

“It’s fire, sheesh.” You smile, cracking your next piece and dipping into the sauce.

“You and Jonathan had me messed up, I had to come correct.”

“Your place is nice. This is very Aquarian male of you. Modern as fuck, cool art but not so many momentos.”

“Yeah, when my parents moved out I kinda just re-did the decorating myself.” He shrugs. “Are you busy after dinner?”

“I was just gonna go back home. Why, what’d you have in mind?”

“Maybe a movie?” He leaves space in the air for you to answer, not completely sure if you were down to stick around for longer than what you’d agreed to earlier in the day.

“That sounds good, what do you have in mind? I’m only staying if it’s Sci-fi or Anime. I can’t do that rom com shit tonight.”

“So you didn’t watch ‘A Journal To Jordan?’ I thought we supported each other.” He pretends to be hurt. “But nah. I definitely was thinking the same thing to be honest.”

“You know I did.” You side eye him. “Ouu, should we watch those old ass reruns of Star Trek?”

“Hell yeah.”

We clean up the table and do the dishes together, he washes and you put them on the drying rack because he says that’s all you’re allowed to do. You like that he doesn’t have maids and cleaners at all times to do every single thing for him. Yes, he’s a well paid celebrity and can do that now but it’s refreshing to be around people who don’t move like that. You’re the same way, you do your own shit when I’m home and have the time.

“I’m not a huge wine drinker, but someone gifted me this Pinot Grigio. If you want, we can crack it open. My mom gave me this wine rack when she moved, she said it makes the kitchen look classier. As you can see there’s only one bottle in here.”He playfully shakes his head, grabbing a bottle.

“Oh wow, Mr. Jordan. Are you encouraging me to drink and drive?” You falsely gasp.

“My fault, I didn’t even think about that. Most people don’t drive themselves in LA.”

“No, you’re good. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“I can take you home, or call a driver, or you can stay here if you want.. there’s guest rooms for you to choose from if you.” He clears his throat after the last sentence, realizing how it might have sounded and not wanting to insinuate something.

“It’s cool, we’ll figure it out. I will have a drink with you, though.. or a few. You know, wine goes fast.”

He smiles, your joke lightening the air. He’s focused on getting the cork out of the bottle, his muscles flexing ever so slightly and you can’t help but to look. “Ah, there we go.” He reaches into his cabinets to grab two glasses, pours yours and hands it to you before pouring his own and leading you a living room area with his glass and the bottle in hand.

The two of you are a whole glass in, and have completely forgotten about the show playing on the tv as it’s just become background noise to your conversation. Michael sitting on the other side of you. You’re so comfortable. You're against the arm of the sofa, legs crossed and laid out over the pillowy cushions.

“Why did you have to be such an overachiever? Not only is the item I requested perfect, you had to go and make some good ass sides too? Sick. It’s that damn Virgo rising.”

He chuckles and refills your glasses. “Well, thank you. I remember you telling me about my chart and how you’re into astrology, but I don’t really know much else about it. Can you tell me?” He picks up your legs, settles them onto his lap and starts working on massaging one of your feet. “This is a cute color.” He rubs your sparkly peridot painted toes. You never try anything outside of white, he must’ve noticed the difference.

You could moan, right now. This is the most orgasmic feeling you’ve had all month. With the stressful ass press tour, working all day and barely having the time to fucking chill. For you, this felt like heaven. It didn’t hurt that your fine ass, hubby material co-worker was the cause of it all.

“Awe, thank you. I- I um, found your chart online that day we were talking about it in your trailer and I remembered your big three. You’re an Aquarius sun, Virgo rising, cancer moon. I think that you being an Aquarius sun makes you inclined to live and do shit in more of an unconventional way that fits you perfectly, and it makes you iconic, to be honest. Virgos are like the perfectionists of the zodiac, the true performers and artists, they have such a meticulous eye for perfection in regards to what they do. Part of why you and Jonathan are some damn good actors, attention to detail n allat. That could also be why you both get along so well, but that’s a whole other thing called synastry where you'd compare your chart to other peoples and see how your relationship with them could be. As far as your moon, Cancer moon people can tend to be super tender, caring and comforting people. y’all lowkey some homebodies, all about comfort.”

“Wow” his eyes slightly widen, it’s a lot to take in. You love to run your mouth about the things you’re passionate about, he just loves that you’re sharing this passion with him.

“I went off on a whole tangent there, but it’s honestly way more complex than that. I love it. I think depending on how people use it, it could be a great tool for life. It’s like my version of ethics class… and wine makes me run my mouth extra.” a giggle seeps from your mouth after you take another sip.

“That’s dope, to think there’s a whole ass science behind people’s lives and personalities. I never would’ve thought it could be accurate.” He replied.

“Yeahh, I know! I was never really into it when I was younger, but moving to LA and all these other new experiences that I got going on made me want to open up to it and give it a honest try.”

“I'd pay you for a chart reading, I never trusted those little magic booths at Malibu.” He smiles, kissing the arch of your foot before moving on to massage the other.

You hide your noise of satisfaction with a yawn. “Mmm, I’d do it free of charge if you can cook like that again. I shouldn’t have doubted you, Mr. Jordan. My apologies.”

“It’s all good, now you know I can cook for you whenever you’d like.”

…

“So, what about you? You’re so good with kids. It’s adorable seeing you with them online, when we had the babies on set, and even with sweet little mila. Do you plan on having any? Or are you just like the cool uncle figure to other people’s kids. Cause’ I’m not at all judging. As the oldest sister, I once upon a time swore I wouldn’t ever have em.” Your hands go up in a mixture of shrug and surrender.

He’s amused by this. “I don’t buy that for a second, kids love you. I definitely want some. I love kids, I hope to have them one day. I just haven’t had a point in my career yet where I’ve slowed down enough to truly be the ideal dad that I’d like to be.I don’t know though, are you still holding yourself to that promise?” His dimples adorably peer through his smile.

“Ha! You know, I don’t know if I ever did, really. I mostly said it because I saw the stress that parenthood brought to people's lives, especially when they weren’t truly ready for it. I guess it's more me swearing not to be a parent if I didn’t have the resources to do it how I deemed proper, or not being at a place of stability for my child. You know? I can’t truly say that I wouldn’t want to bring that type of joy into this world. My heart ain’t cut like that.” You shake your head.

“No, I definitely get it. Being at the right capacity mentally, physically, and financially before I have a child is super crucial. I also want them to have parents who can be role models to what love should truly look like, like I had. I know everybody didn’t get to grow up seeing that. You know, that strong and unconditional, healthy, in love-love shit.”

“Definitely, that’s vital. I wish I had that growing up. It’s beautiful that you got to have that and can recognize the impact it has on people who don’t. Everything from childhood molds you into who you are, I believe. I would just want to give my baby the best childhood possible.” Your lips curl upwards. “It’s weird, I’ve never gone much into depth about this topic. But yeah, you pretty much filled in the gaps that I couldn’t put my thumb on.”

“Same” he points to my shirt. “Somebody gotta get that ‘I love milfs’ shirt to match you one day.”

“You’ve been teasing me about this shirt since I came in.” You jokingly swat his hand away.

“You started it, tryna clown on my fit as soon as you walked in the door.”

“Nah, I like the color gray on you.” You unintentionally stare at his shorts, the outline of him softly speaking to you.

“Yeah? You look pretty in everything.” He pulls you onto his lap. His hands explore your sides, traveling upwards for his thumbs to meet the peaks that hardened through your shirt. “You cold?” The pads of his fingers ran over your clothed nipples.

How do you tell him that your skin is burning up and freezing at the same time? That you don’t know how far of a line has been crossed with your coworker and friend? Who knows, but tonight wouldn’t be when you figured it out.

“You keep the ac on blast.” You shyly nod.

He picks up a fuzzy white blanket from the other side of him and throws it over your bodies, even though he’s naturally radiating warmth. Michael lays back on the couch, neither of you talk. Just feeling each other’s hearts beating, the movement of your chests as breath comes and goes from your bodies when you you inhale and exhale. His large hand gently rubs your back, in a manner that you almost fall asleep to.

“You want to stay with me tonight?” He whispers, lips brushing along the shell of your ear.

You nod “can we watch Innuyasha?”

“Of course, princess.” You feel the vibrations of his deep voice travel through your skin, scratching your brain in a way that feels so good. Your body gets heavy, you feel comfortable enough to let it relax. He smiles as your face rests in the crook of his neck and your breathing becomes deeper.

[jack-of-heartstrings]

yay you've watched the episode!! :D

do you have thoughts or feelings about the whole new big cult thing reveal?

I'VE BEEN TELLING EVERYONE!!! After so long I was shocked to actually see it more directly, but I've been reminding people for ages that we still didn't know shit about What We Started Fifteen Years Ago! That there was this whole big conspiracy in the background! We never saw it more clearly than the Shanghai special but it's been alluded to offhand since then, and hints have been dropped as well.

xD I am unfortunately going to have to rewrite (easy) and re-record audio (PAIN AND MISERY AND SUFFERING FOR TEN THOUSAND YEARS) for the Chloe video essay I was working on now that we know a little more but YEAH.

I think it's likely an extremely important detail that Gabriel was "The Diamond", and the party in Emotion was the "Diamonds' Dance", and likely also that the party in Gabriel Agreste had such a similar aesthetic to the Diamonds' Dance.

I'm not sure if his code name makes me more or less certain the suspiciously-all-similar-aged kids at the Diamonds' Dance of which confirmed Sentis Adrien and Kagami were the king and queen were also all Sentis themselves, but I still think it's a strong possibility too. Yes this includes Chloe. Especially Chloe. I've been trying to figure out which icon Audrey could be now that we've seen the council, and wondering if Andre is still involved, though I imagine much like Nathalie it's hard to truly leave. 100% though, Chloe is more of a celebrity now because the organization is collectively pushing for her to fill the space left by Adrien (and to an extent Kagami).

I also suspect, of all people, Bob Roth is probably involved, if not on a seat then as someone's Shadow, but very possibly as a council member outright. His inclusion in the episode card of Gabriel Agreste was always so suspicious and part of the cult evidence, and as comically over the top as he is, he is very much a picture of corrupt corporate greed that seems very much the cult's MO. Everything he's doing setting up his son as a manufactured icon fits perfectly with what we've seen so far with the Perfect World Project. (Hell, even learning Luka was Jagged's son and going "you can always turn a celebrity's kid into a celebrity" like... wouldn't be evidence on its own but with surrounding context is... yeah, that would track, huh.)

I am so SO bad with audio processing, and between different presentation (haughty vs low and slow and serious), the slight mechanical distortion on the call, AND a language I don't speak, I CANNOT tell just comparing the French versions if the voices are at all similar or wildly obviously different, so someone please do tell me if it's the latter. But with the context that my brain just sucks at this so I'm purely guessing from visual cues and subtitles, I wonder if Lord Graham is the Scepter.

(Edit to add: I thought Tomoe being The Machine was too obvious to need a mention but just saw people questioning so I'll throw that in too. She's definitely The Machine. Between taking of Gabriel's work, the manufacturing business, and "I never fail" with the whole Tsurugi family themes. Yeah.)

I'M WILDLY DELIGHTED THAT WE ARE GETTING NATHALIE LORE and I did not expect HER family to be equally involved in this but I am NOT complaining. FANTASTIC time to introduce it, too, weighed against Ivan's lore drop and Adrien's struggles.

BUT YEAH. I think my ideal would be us getting scattered tidbits more this season, like significant but small bits, until the season finale or close to it, and then dealing more heavily with the cult next season. As eager as I am for answers I do enjoy the slow burn and think it'll be great to keep the focus on the interpersonal stuff going on for most of this season. I'm willing to wait.

[fellulahh]

Diavolo accidentally meets MC’s parents

“What did you fancy doing today?” MC asked as she dried off the mug she’d just washed. “Is there a list of things you want to tick off?”

Diavolo was in the human realm for a few days visiting MC. The trip was long overdue; being the future King of Devildom, it was very rare he’d get the chance to leave for such a long period of time.

However, after countless long nights and with Barbatos’ help, Diavolo managed to escape his duties for a weekend with MC.

“How about a bar?” Diavolo suggested, watching MC as she finished cleaning up after her morning beverage.

“A bar?” MC chuckled, glancing over shoulder at the demon.

“Yes!” He grinned, “I think it’ll be fun having a drink while I’m in the human realm. Unwind a little you know?”

“Okay,” MC laughed, “I’ll take you to a bar; there’s one I think you’d like in town.”

“Excellent!” Diavolo smiled excitedly, taking a step further into the room.

Just as their conversation ended, the Prince was distracted by movement in the corner of his eye. Out of the window, he noticed a car pull into MC’s driveway.

“Are you expecting someone?” He asked, turning back to meet MC’s eyes.

“No?” She answered confused, stepping next to the demon to look out of the window. “Oh god it’s my parents.”

With a cheeky grin, Diavolo turned to face MC. “Is it now?”

The human found his gaze and pulled a face at him. “Don’t get any ideas.” She warned with a laugh.

“Would I ever?” He raised an eyebrow, holding his hands up defensively.

“Wait here.” MC shook her head at him.

Disappearing out of the room, the human headed to the front door to greet her parents.

“Hello!” She smiled as she opened the door, “what are you doing here?”

“Your Father and I are going to see your Nan so I thought I’d pick up the dry cleaning you had done for her.” MC’s Mum informed her.

“Oh yeah, sure.” MC nodded, letting her parents in.

Leading them through the house, MC headed toward the kitchen. She smiled at Diavolo as she re-entered. The human had intended to introduce him, however, her Mum beat her to the chance.

“Oh hello!” She greeted surprised, with a smile on her lips. “I hadn’t realised MC had company.”

“Mum, this is…Dia.” MC trailed off.

“Dia,” her mum repeated - still with a big grin on her face - “what an unusual name.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He greeted warmly, returning the smile. Stepping forward, he held out his arm to shake MC’s Dad’s hand.

Her Dad eyed the up the tall figure in front of him as he shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He nodded simply.

While they were sharing their introductions, MC’s mum quickly gave a daughter a suggestive look. The human could only smile sheepishly at her mother.

“So what do you two have planned today?” MC’s mum asked excitedly.

“Dia’s not from here so I thought I’d show him around town and we’d go to a few bars.” MC answered as Diavolo nodded with a smile.

“Not from around here?” Her Mum questioned raising an eyebrow, “does that mean you’re here for the weekend?”

“Don’t worry, MC’s already told me I’m in the spare room.” Diavolo quipped, earning a laugh from MC’s mother.

“Well I hope she’s made the bed…” her Mum commented.

“I have, don’t worry.” MC shot a look at her mother.

“Well Dia you must be special because I’ve never seen the place so spotless.” Her mum continued.

“Do you mind?” MC laughed.

“Really?” He questioned, turning to MC dramatically with a grin. “Oh I do feel honoured.”

“Oh my…” MC spoke quietly shaking her head, her cheeks going red.

“Alright well we better leave you two be then.” MC’s Mum smiled, noticing her daughter’s embarrassment. “You two have a lovely weekend! MC I want to hear all about it after.”

“Yep. Thanks Mum.” MC smiled awkwardly, as she felt Diavolo’s hand on her shoulder.

Quickly turning her head to face him, she playfully rolled her eyes as he mouthed an innocent ‘what?’

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you both.” Diavolo spoke warmly, earning another toothy smile from MC’s Mum.

“And you, Dia!” She gleamed. “Hopefully we’ll see you again soon.”

“Nice to meet you.” MC’s dad piped up, nodding at Diavolo.

“Say hello to Nan for me.” MC spoke as she lead them back toward the door; making sure to grab the dry cleaning first.

Her parents said their goodbyes before MC shut the door, returning to the kitchen once again.

Stood in the middle with a big grin on his face, Diavolo’s amber eyes met hers.

“You know you’re going to have to keep coming back now, don’t you?” She laughed at him.

“I’d be delighted!” He smiled.

“Alright, grab your coat funny man - we’re going drinking.” She rolled her eyes again before breaking out into a smile.

Spoiler: Diavolo doesn’t sleep in the spare room

[drac0line1nn1t]

Do you think Logan would kill people for Wade?

Despite Wade being able to fend for himself?

Oh absolutely, not only is he not used to being around other people who can't get hurt, but violence is his love language

If someone was being rude to wade like for example making fun of his skin, that guy would not be found again

And if anyone hurts wade, even though it won't last a second, if wade doesn't take em out, Logan will one hundred percent fuck em up

The only one who gets to hurt wade is him

[demaparbat-hp]

seeing your ZK art with katara's burn scars I imagine zuko kissing her scarred hands 😭 and ofc she kisses his scar too !!!!!!!!

Scar kisses are my everything.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

good news: i have done a significant amount of online shopping in the past few days, and i am delighted by this enrichment in my enclosure

bad news: unfortunately now i have three (3) tracking numbers to refresh obsessively, and two of them aren't even with the postal service yet,