#some of us really do think that guy is the most talented man in the world idgaf

[lloyd-the-green-gremlin]

A little rant about Robotnik's security measures, and how efficent Stone really is:

I do find it a little corny when people characterise/write Stone as the "secretly badass, most talented agent in the whole us army froce who killes with cold-blood and unmatched efficency, and is constantly saving Robotnik of attacks and danger he isnt even aware of " (not to hate on anyone who does like this, its just my personal preference).

*not to say he isnt good at his job as an agent, and he is nothing but efficent when it comes to working for the Doctor -

But! but. I do think that his agent skills go mostly unutalised while working for Robotnik. Like yes, the "his pookie gets kidnapped by some bad guys who want to get their hands on that robo-tech, so Stone's gotta rescue him" is a fun sexy little trope, but lets observe what we have at our disposal;

Robotnik is the supplier of the most advanced war-drones and high-tech weapons to the US Govrement. He has cameras everywhere, can trace anyone anytime anywhere, lives (well, as long as he's on away missions) in a big ass stainless steel box filled with badniks and has a handfull of agents following him around (probably on the govrement's behalf, rather than his.

That man has probably bullet/laser/acid/punch-proofed every weapon he has, has eyes on every corner, and gets a notice anytime someone even mentioned his name . He got security covered.

Thats why Stone mainly fills an assistant role for him. He gets him coffe and keeps his sceduel in check. So while i dont think Stone is the best ever agent/soldier/whatever, (i dont think they would put their best man on Robotnik, however of a ticking bomb he is), he is a good one. Robotnik tho, doesent even get a chance to see his skills, because his own security sistem renders him useless in that regard. Stone also never expects the Doktor's ambushes , either because he's absolutely smitten and has lowered his walls, or because he's focusing on keeping some order in the life of his the Doctor, Chaos Incarnate.

Stone isnt good at science, or politics or stuff like that, he is good at following orders to a tee, and using what he leant in his agent training whenever needed. We see evidence of his skills in the 3rd movie when he takes out the drones like its nothing.( He is a puppy that looks good in your purse, and you dont even realise its actually a hunt-dog)

(Okay now I'm just rambling on)

I guess what I'm trying to say is: however good he is, Robotnik isnt a princess to be saved, a damsel in distress, and however sexy Stone rescuing/protecting him is, Ivo's ego could never let such a situation occure.

(anyways write whatever jorks your meat tho. Do what you want forever or what they say)

[sunmisbf]

i really can’t decide if i should get vip or regular general admission tickets for purple kiss 😭😭😭😭😭

[misctf]

i don't get it, why are the jocks nice to me? No one else notices me, the socially outcasted and alone BC I don't fit in anywhere , I'm. Not smart, athletic or real hot, all I do I quietly draw

But the jocks, along with the cheerleaders come up to me and chat, they seem like really good ppl, a lot of the times they all show up in their football kits and cheer uniforms,

Idk how I got into this situation, how am I ? The so not special guy, hanging out with the most popular ppl in the school.

There all so hot, athletic and nice to me, if only I could play football to any extent, so I could play with them 😅

“Dude, sick drawings. You an artist or somethin’?”

When Chet approached you in your college’s library, you were initially surprised. As someone not used to the attention, you were taken aback by the muscular hunk in front of you. His tank-top showing off his impressive arms. The shit-eating smirk plastered on his handsome face, conveying his confidence. You blush and meekly replied that you liked to draw. His dumb chuckle fills the room.

“Fuck bro, you’re talented.”

That was a few days ago. And ever since then, you couldn’t help but notice all the attention you were getting. A few of the other jocks on the football team approached you, all clamoring about your artwork. Even a few of the cheerleaders came up to you, gushing over your art and how cute you were. It didn’t make much sense to you, but you weren’t complaining. If anything, it made you want to get closer to them. Besides, it felt nice. And for the first time in a while, you felt special.

When Chet sent you a text asking if you wanted to hang out, you felt nervous. Even if they were nice to you, the idea of hanging out seemed like a huge next step. You initially declined, but he practically begged you to come by. Although somewhat anxious, you agreed. And before you knew it, you were standing outside his dorm room. When he opened the door, you were initially taken aback by the musky smell. And it became all too obvious that he hadn’t showered, or done laundry in weeks. But you were a bit more focused on his exposed torso. His meaty pecs and abs on full display. The outline of his cock shamelessly displayed in his grey sweatpants. That same smirk plastered on his face.

“Fuck yeah dude! So glad you could make it.”

You look around his relatively empty room. Besides the beer cans, dirty clothing, and gaming set-up, it was pretty plain. There were a few Chemistry textbooks messily scattered on his desk. Odd, you think, he didn’t really seem the type. But also on his desk were a few drawings. Or at least attempts. They weren’t nearly as good as yours, but it looked like he was trying.

“Yeah man, you inspired me.” He chuckles, “But I ain’t no artist.”

That much was evident. You reassure him that practice makes perfect and laugh awkwardly, but he just stares at you. His eyes glisten with a hint of mischief. And before you know it, he crushes his lips to yours. Your eyes widen as he passionately kisses you, and you can taste the beer and protein shakes on his breath. He breaks the kiss and smiles.

“Come on, let’s see what you’re packin’.” He says, helping you remove your shirt.

His hands roam your body. Compared to him, you lack muscle. And years of avoiding the gym and eating whatever you want has certainly given you some pudge. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He continues to feel your body, and you moan at his sensual touch. So caught up in the moment, you fail to realize the impact his touch is having on your unimpressive body. How your fat begins to dissolve away, leaving you thin and lean. But not for too long. You grunt as your muscles come alive. Contracting and relaxing rapidly. Building on themselves. You wince as your biceps pop into glorious existence. Your triceps follow quickly and you lean into him as he caresses your new arms.

“What’s happening...”

“Don’t worry.” He reassures.

He kisses you again, and this time you feel a heaviness in your chest. Your pecs expand rapidly, forming two bouncy muscle tits. He squeezes your hardened nipples, sending a wave of pleasure through your growing form, and you nearly pass out as he gives your pecs a firm squeeze. Abs pop into existence soon after. And you groan as your already hard cock expands further, adding at least an additional 5 inches.

“Almost there.” He continues.

And this time, when his lips collide with your new cock-suckers, you feel something is wrong. It’s as if he’s sucking something out of you. Draining you. But as your mind continues to dim, you don’t really seem to care. You lean into his kiss willingly. And when you do, your eyes glaze over and become half-lidded. Any intelligence you may have had is gone. But it’s so much more than that. Your skills as an artist are quickly stolen from you. Any potential you had, stolen by the handsome jock in front of you. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he can’t help but grin at the dumb, vacant look in your eyes.

“Fuck bro, that was great.” He says, wiping some drool from your lip, “Thanks for that. Who needs art lessons when you can just take it, right bro?”

You nod and chuckle, more drool falling from the side of your mouth. You look down and bounce your pecs, totally enamored by your hulking body.

“Huh, usually we’d let ya join the team.” Chet says. He snaps his fingers in front of you, without getting any reaction, “But, I doubt you have the brains to follow even the most basic instructions.” He smirks, “But I’m sure I can find another way for you to play.” He slaps your muscular ass, “What do ya say, waterboy?”

So maybe you don’t get to play football with the team how you wanted. But the team certainly enjoys playing with you. After every game, they’d find you in the locker room with your ass up. Ready to help them wind down after a tough game. Rest assured, they certainly still think you’re special. And they still give you plenty of attention. So have fun, bro.

[cutielando]

when in vegas | l.n.

social media au

synopsis: in which they shouldn't be left alone when in Vegas

my masterlist

liked by yourusername, alex_albon and 3,291,574 others

landonorris Vegas baby tagged: yourusername

view all 392,184 comments

yourusername i love traveling with you <3

landonorris i love you 🫶🏻

mclaren Let's go!🧡 liked by yourusername and landonorris

mclaren also, please, BEHAVE - PR team

landonorris we'll try

yourusername i'll keep him under control

landonorris you'll be too busy to think about that 😈😈😈😈

mclaren LANDO

alex_albon please be good

landonorris not making any promises

yourusername sorry alex 🫣

oscarpiastri ...my room is next to yours...

yourusername 🫣🫣🫣

landonorris i suggest earplugs 🤭

oscarpiastri ...

charles_leclerc someone should watch over you two

yourusername not you, that's for sure

charles_leclerc why not?

landonorris you're worse than we are

charles_leclerc ...true

adam_norris_pure_electric good luck, my boy!!

landonorris thanks dad ❤️

ciscanorris take care of him yourusername

yourusername i will!!! ❤️

user1 you just know they are going to be WILD

user2 I cannot wait for the content abut these two

user3 THE COMMENTS

user4 they’re spending his birthday in Vegas together i’m not well 😭😭😭

user3 my man is getting LUCKY

maxfewtrell you seem to have lost my invite. again

landonorris nah, i just didn't want you here

yourusername babe, be nice please

maxfewtrell this is him being nice.. some friend you are

landonorris ;)

user5 max and lando bickering like siblings will forever be my favorite thing in the world

user6 NOT MCLAREN LITERALLY SCOLDING HIM HAHAHA

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri and 2,974,186 others

yourusername being by your side and watching you do what you love the most has been my greatest accomplishment. i am so proud of everything that you do and i'm forever thankful that you chose me to be a part of your journey. happy 24th birthday baby, i love you so much and i cannot wait to see what the future holds for us ❤️ tagged: landonorris

view all 549,282 comments

landonorris i wouldn't even think about doing life with anybody else. i love you so much 😩❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️

landonorris can’t wait to party with you tonight 😈

yourusername BEHAVE

landonorris 😈no

mclaren Happy birthday, Lando! We are proud of everything you do and we hope to continue being your family for many more years to come. Cheers! 🧡🧡

landonorris thank you 🧡

oscarpiastri happy birthday, mate. take it easy tonight

landonorris never 😈

oscarpiastri 🥲

yourusername i’ll keep him under control, don’t worry

landonorris you’ll be too busy to do that 😈😈

oscarpiastri THERE ARE CHILDREN ON THIS APP

georgerussell63 happy birthday, mate! 🥳 can’t wait to crush you on the track

landonorris thanks mate. you wish you had my pace

georgerussell63 your ego is through the roof

yourusername so is yours

user1 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR FAVORITE DRIVER 🧡🧡🧡🧡 WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH

user2 he’s all grown up 🥹🥹

user3 i remember when he was just a little guy starting out in F1 and now look at him 😭😭😭😭

user4 he’s so fine and talented and just UGH SO PERFECT 😩😩😩 happy birthday king 🥳🥳

user5 i love their relationship so much ❤️❤️ she keeps him grounded and he’s so much happier now

maxverstappen1 happy birthday 🎉 can’t wait to get drunk tonight

landonorris 😈😈😈😈

yourusername oh Jesus

kellypiquet we’re in for a very long night

charles_leclerc i heard there’s a party?

landonorris you’re not invited

charles_leclerc :(

yourusername don’t listen to him, you’re invited and we’d love it if you came 😊

landonorris we would?

yourusername shut up

charles_leclerc yay!! 🥳🥳

mclaren if someone could please keep an eye on them, we would really appreciate it - PR team

carlossainz55 consider it done

landonorris we’re not children, you know

mclaren you certainly act like children

yourusername they’re kinda right, you know…

landonorris shh

maxfewtrell happy birthday mate. looks like you made it another year

landonorris thanks. you know you can't get rid of me

maxfewtrell no matter how hard i try

liked by f1wags, yoursister and 28,473 others

formula1gossip MARRIAGE ALERT⁉️⁉️ Reports are saying that Lando Norris and long-time girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N have tied the knot last night during his birthday bash in Las Vegas? What do you guys think? 👀

view all 7,381 comments

user1 tbh i hope it's true, they're amazing together😩

user2 i saw yoursister in the likes 👀👀👀👀

user3 yoursister GIRL WHAT DO YOU KNOW🫣

yoursister i know nothing

user3 SUCH A LIAR HAHAHA I LOVE IT🥲

mclaren sigh...🥲

user5 BAHAHAHAHAHAHA THIS IS AMAZING

user6 this is basically the confirmation we needed

user7 i suddenly understand why everyone keeps saying they are the biggest PR nightmare 😭😭

user8 this is the most Lando thing ever

user5 for real, like this seems the kind of wedding Lando would have

user4 i can just imagine the earful Cisca is probably giving the both of them for doing this 😭😭😭

user2 she is so gonna tear them a new one hahahaha

liked by georgerussell63, ciscanorris and 4,291,857 others

yourusername & landonorris we got married last night. we don't remember much, but it was the best decision we have ever made. grateful to be starting this journey together ❤️

view all 829,175 comments

mclaren Congratulations!!🧡

landonorris thanks admin 😊

yourusername also, we're sorry for the nightmare we've caused the PR department 🫢

mclaren you're cute, we'll let this one slide - PR team

georgerussell63 wild night, but happy for you guys ❤️ liked by yourusername and landonorris

maxverstappen1 i don't even remember this happening

yourusername you were drunker than everyone, you couldn't even remember your name 😂

maxverstappen1 that's not true 😠

kellypiquet you danced naked in front of the wedding venue singing "Viva Las Vegas"

alex_albon for 20 minutes straight

landonorris not the sight I wanted to remember from that night

georgerussell63 me too

alex_albon me 3

charles_leclerc me 4

carlossainz55 me 5

maxverstappen1 OK I GET IT

ciscanorris my children ❤️ you're lucky i love you

yourusername we're sorry ❤️❤️ we promise to have a proper wedding when we get back

landonorris anything for the Mrs.

yourusername 🤭OH

oscarpiastri congrats guys, thanks for taking it easy on me last night with the noise 🥳

landonorris we were too drunk

yourusername you got off easy, pastry

oscarpiastri a win is still a win

user not both of them bullying poor oscar 😭😭

alex_albon never thought you would be the first one of us to get married

yourusername we didn’t either

landonorris what can i say, i love surprising people

maxfewtrell you guys getting married was definitely not on my bucket list for the year

yourusername but you loved it nonetheless

maxfewtrell i'm just grateful you got him to settle down

landonorris she is something else

yourusername 🤭

user1 YAYAYAYAYAAY 😩😩😩

user2 MY FAVORITE COUPLE GOT MARRIED 😭😭

user3 they are so precious 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️

user4 CONGRATS ❤️❤️❤️

user5 our favorite WAG is officially HERE TO STAY ❤️❤️

yoursister mom is mad you got married without us

yourusername i’m sorry :((

landonorris kinda my fault, but don’t worry. we’ll have a proper wedding soon!!

yourmother you better.

yourusername MOM, be nice to your son-in-law

yourmother don’t push it, young lady

landonorris yes ma’am 🫡🫡

francisca.cgomes a truly wonderful night 🥳 CONGRATULATIONS DARLINGS!!!❤️❤️❤️

yourusername we love you !!! ❤️

lilymhe i’m sorry i couldn’t be there, but i’m really happy for you guys !! ❤️

yourusername don’t worry, you’ll come to our other wedding ❤️

user6 imagine saying OTHER WEDDING 😩😩

user7 i cannot wait to see their wedding 😭😭❤️

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 381,573 others

mclaren Mr. and Mrs. Norris everyone! Even though their wedding came as a surprise to us as well, we could never be mad at these two! 🧡 tagged: yourusername and landonorris

view all 98,481 comments

yourusername we love you guys !! 🧡🧡

landonorris thanks for the papaya post-wedding cake

mclaren was it delicious?

yourusername it was 🤩

user1 not McLaren posting them 😭😭

user2 they are just one big happy family🥹🥹

user3 MY PARENTS😩❤️❤️

charles_leclerc you're so milking this wedding

landonorris fame is fame

yourusername excuse me? 😠

charles_leclerc great job making her mad from day 2

landonorris you know i didn't mean it like that babe !!

yourusername you're treading on thin ice, mister

georgerussell63 how did y/n, the down-to-earth one, agree to this?

yourusername vodka might have been involved in my decision making process 🤐

landonorris and my good looks also played a part

georgerussell63 good to know that's all it takes

carmenmmundt don't get any ideas

maxfewtrell where is my slice of cake?

landonorris lost in the mail

maxfewtrell ...

yourusername don't worry max, i saved you a slice

landonorris i thought that was extra for me :((

maxfewtrell get your head out of your arse for once, mate

mclaren we'll get you another cake landonorris

user4 the way he has the McLaren staff wrapped around his little finger amazes me 🫣

user5 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND😭😭😭😭😭

liked by pietrapilao, mclaren and 8,392,817 others

yourusername & landonorris due to popular demand, we present to you, again, Mr. and Mrs. Norris

view all 982,175 comments

mclaren Congratulations guys!🧡🧡 liked by yourusername and landonorris

ciscanorris beautiful wedding, we love you so much❤️❤️❤️

yourusername we love you guys too !!!! thank you for making our day special🫶🏻🫶🏻

maxfewtrell great wedding, glad to see i was invited to this one at least

landonorris don’t be condescending

yourusername sorry maxie :)) you know we love you

charles_leclerc beautiful wedding, well done y/n 👏

yourusername thank you charles <3

landonorris i helped too...

charles_leclerc sure you did

carlossainz55 very beautiful ceremony, i loved the cake particularly 🫣

landonorris you thought bringing a Ferrari-themed wedding cake to my wedding was a good idea?

yourusername i thought it was delicious

carlossainz55 i rest my case

user1 SHE WAS SO BEAUTIFUL I’M SOBBING 😭😭😭😭🥹😭🥹🥹🥹

user2 seeing him so happy makes me want to cry 😭❤️❤️❤️

zbrownceo Congratulations to my boy Lando, I hope you and Y/N have a wonderful life together!🧡

landonorris thank you zak 🧡🧡

yourusername we appreciate everything you’ve done for us Zak!!🧡

zbrownceo Thank you for taking care of our boy 🧡

user3 ZAK CALLING LANDO “HIS BOY” 😭😭

user4 YOUR HONOR, you don’t understand how in love i am with them 🥹🥹🥹

maxverstappen1 thankfully i remember this wedding

yourusername thank you for making an effort max

landonorris surprising on all fronts

francisca.cgomes OMG YOU LOOKED SO GOOD 😭😭😭 so grateful to have been by your side on your special day ❤️❤️

yourusername OH MY LOVE ❤️❤️❤️ thank you for everything you did for me ❤️❤️❤️

lilymhe truly such a magical night ❤️❤️ so happy for you guys

yourusername thank you lils ❤️❤️

alex_albon i still can't believe you're married

landonorris bro, we've had 2 weddings, you better start believing

yourusername stop living in denial, alex

yoursister ❤️❤️❤️ if he hurts you, i will fight him

yourusername he won't. if he does, i'll fight him myself

landonorris ...so much violence...

user5 i can now die happy❤️

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[primofate]

A Shot in The Dark (Chapter 2) Wriothesley x fem!reader

Summary: As the upcoming Weapons Master of the town, you've started to take more responsibilities in your father's shop. Little did you know that taking up this job would cause you to get thrown into the messy world of criminals and the messy world of confusing feelings for the Duke of Meropide.

Warnings: blood and talks about the use of blood for something unconventional, some might find it disturbing.

Read other parts: Chapter 1

Wriothesley didn’t show up.

Not the day after, nor the day after that.

At first you wondered if he was thoroughly offended by you not remembering who he was, but on second thought, he didn’t really seem like the type of guy to be offended by someone—especially you—not remembering his name.

And so the days passed by normally, the usual number of customers, the usual number of people walking in and asking general questions about weapons and the like. No sign of Wriothesley, nor any other “celebrity”.

It was a week after meeting the Duke that the shop door nearly flew off its hinges and in came a man with a sword strapped on his back.

You took one look at him—scraggly beard, mid 40s, head of hair that was somewhat long, but tied back into a small tail—and was immediately transported to a conversation with your father.

“We usually don’t judge books by its covers, Y/N, but you’ll know when to deny service to someone,” your father exclaimed, magnifying glass in one hand, pointed at a piece of metal.

You purse your lips at the statement, watching him quietly, until you had to ask. “What do you mean? How would I know if they were good or bad people? There’s no way to tell in such a short amount of time,”

Your father muses a bit, a slight hum emanating from his chest. He puts the magnifying glass down and meets your gaze. “Sometimes, your instincts just know, my dear,” he smiles a tiny one. “Our talent of fixing any weapon in existence may be a mundane skill…but weapons are powerful things Y/N! There are times where we have to stop and think, will I be doing the right thing if I fix this?”

“Good afternoon,” the man speaks and you blink back to present day. He stands confident in front of the counter and pierces you with his gaze. There is nothing inherently wrong with how he looked, but you could tell he wasn’t from Fontaine, and there was a strange feeling of anxiety trying to surface from the bottom of your stomach.

Instinct, huh?

You smile at the man. “Good afternoon,” you reply, eyes darting up to the hilt of his sword, peeking behind his back. “How can I help you today?”

The man moved with a type of grace and fluidity that told you he was no ordinary citizen. He most likely had been wielding a sword for years. His hand came up to the hilt of his sword and he pulled at it until it came off its scabbard, revealing that the blade was a blood red colour.

You controlled a shiver that ran up your spine as the man laid the peculiar looking sword on the counter. On closer inspection, the hilt was a deep purple. And the blade was a natural red colour—for a moment you thought that it had been dipped in blood—it was, to your knowledge, a katana, and a very beautiful albeit uniquely coloured one. The wear and tear was visible and you knew that this weapon was most likely centuries old. You dare not to touch it.

“What’s wrong with it?” You simply ask, prying your eyes away from the weapon and towards the man.

The man doesn’t show any sign of disappointment nor worry. “It’s not as strong as it previously was,” he explained. “I assume it needs a bit of refinement,”

A bit, was an understatement. It needed A LOT of refinement. It was an old blade, anyone could see that, weapons master or not. Your hands hovered above it and you ask, just as you always do “May I?”

Your hand inched closer as the man nodded and you took time to run your hand over the entirety of the sword. It had…a lot of ill intent. How you could tell, you weren’t quite sure. It was not wholly about its colour, but its aura, and how heavy and tired it looked.

“…I’m sorry, I can’t fix this,”

It’s time for this blade to rest.

You never thought that you would decline someone of service, it just didn’t seem like something that would happen.

“Do you know of Dendrobium flowers?” The man’s voice is rather low, but still smooth and somewhat friendly.

You blink up at him, taken aback by the sudden topic change. “…I can’t say I do,”

He talks, and while he talks he tries to retrieve something from his rucksack. “Dendrobium. A rare and expensive plant, found in Inazuman soil,” he takes a small box and opens it, revealing a blood red flower that you’ve never seen in your life before. “Rumor has it that these plants are watered using blood,”

There’s a small pause. A moment for you to internalize the information he just shared, and you were sure now, that there was something strange going on with your customer.

“…Mmhmm,” you let out quietly with a small nod, not knowing what else to say, feeling the atmosphere in the shop grow colder.

“The bloodier and more brutal the battlefield, the more lovely the Dendrobium blooms,” he closes the box, and hands it over to you. “Consider it, a gift,” he takes his blade in his hand and stretches it out for you to see clearly. “This here, is Muramasa… and the only way to fix him…is to refine him with Dendrobium ore,” He sheathes the katana onto his back and levels his gaze back towards you. “…but, it’s been centuries, since anyone has seen a Dendrobium ore. People say that the Dendrobium flowers crystallize when it’s been watered with enough blood…and yet I haven’t seen a single Dendrobium ore in my life,”

You stay silent, merely letting him finish his story.

“Well then, ma’am, I’ll be on my way. My thanks, for taking a look at Muramasa,” he tips his head forward, turns, footsteps towards the door, pulls it open and he pulls it close again as he leaves.

You stand still, the flower box in your hand. You wait a few minutes before you can completely feel yourself relax back into your normal state—you hadn’t even realized that you had been tense the whole time—and your eyes drop back to the small black box.

…Does he know? I’ll have to tell father about this…

And just as you always do with your other customers, you try to replay the interaction back in your head, to see if you missed anything or if you said anything wrong. The next customer didn’t come in until lunch time, so you were thankful that you had time to unpack your interaction with the strange man whose name you didn’t get.

The more you thought about it, the stranger it had been, or perhaps he was merely an eccentric? Still, it was completely unnecessary to tell a long-winded story about the Dendrobium…what was his purpose?

“You look out of sorts today,” A smug, familiar voice echoes through the shop. Wriothesley is suddenly there, you hadn’t even heard the door open nor the bell ring.

“Oh, Wriothesley,” you absentmindedly let out, snapping out of thought, eyes adjusting to the view in front of you rather than staring off into space. “Welcome back,” you give a small smile, which has the man a little suspicious.

He thought you were just tired, and maybe hungry, it is lunch time after all, but on closer inspection Wriothesley was conscious of the deeper frown lines you wore. Something as subtle as that, he would notice. Having a good eye for detail was one of his job descriptions.

“Ah, she finally remembers my name,” He takes a jab at you, grin appearing on his features. You can’t help the upward tug of your lips, and refrain from rolling your eyes. You don’t get to retort back because he follows up almost immediately: “Something happen?” He has his gauntlets tucked under his arm yet again, his frame seems taller today, or perhaps you were just feeling small after your weird interaction with your earlier customer.

“…Nothing for you to worry about,” You give a real smile this time, eyes darting over to his gauntlets. “Just…mulling over some fixes,”

It was convincing to the normal person, but to Wriothesley, it was a good attempt at diverting his attention from the real problem. Nevertheless, he didn’t push it, and set his gauntlets down on the counter for you. “Brought these back… I would’ve been back earlier but things happened at the Fortress…” he chuckled under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck as if he had done something disappointing.

The sight made you raise an eyebrow in amusement, mouth turning up the slightest bit more. He seemed to have a talent for making people feel at ease. “That’s nothing to apologize for, it’s your job,” your hands rest on his gauntlets, remembering the exact fix that it needed. “I say I’ll be done with this in 3 hours. You can come back for it right around then,”

He made a sound of understanding watching you start to take tools out to finish up the work. Wriothesley seemed to pause for a moment, his weight shifting from his left to his right. “You’re not getting lunch?”

You shake your head no, “I tend not to get hungry when I’m busy…or I guess I get too occupied with things and forget to eat,”

He again indicated that he heard you with a slight hum, but adds “…Well I’m reminding you now. Café Lutece is just down the road from here,” he points his thumb behind him. You look up to blink at him, your mind blank for a moment.

Was he asking you to eat with him or was he telling you to eat by yourself? You weren’t quite sure and you were stuck about what to say, until he made it clearer to you.

“Come on, I haven’t eaten either.” He jerked his head towards the shop door, indicating that he was about to go, and it sounded like he wasn’t going to offer again.

“Mm…” You think aloud, loosening your hold on the screwdriver in your hand. “I…guess I could go,” you decide, and its as if he relaxes the slightest bit more, waiting for you to walk around the counter, then walking ahead to hold the shop door open for you.

As you lock the shop up for lunch, you turn to him when done, somehow completely forgetting about your strange customer earlier, pointing a finger up to make a point “Lunch break is one hour max, otherwise, I’m charging you a late fee!”

Wriothesley chuckles, “and I thought I was a hard worker,” as the two of you walk together towards the restaurant down the road.

[billluver0124]

"middle school shenanigans!"

synopsis : tom goes through his 'first love' experience with y/n! WARNINGS: there is none, its a fluff story !!

authors note: once again, @rottinglilys helped me with the plot of the story ! i hope you guy enjoy my lovies<3

it all started back last year in grade 7, tom had a MASSIVE crush on y/n. he would always catch himself staring at her in classes because they had most classes together.

he always adored how she looked; her hair, her eyes, her bubbly personality, her willingness to be kind towards those who dont deserve it. but most of all...her smile. toms heart used to explode like fireworks whenever he was blessed to see her smiled.

then on the day before spring break started, tom slipped her a note in her locker.

"Hey, ich bin in dich verknallt. Magst du mich auch?

ja oder nein ?-t.k"

y/n was so confused when she got the note. she didn't know what 't.k' stood for, until the very last hour of school. when tom decided to man up and go up to her.

"y/n!" he yelled, jogging up to her to catch her attention. she turns around "oh hi tom!" she said, smiling. tom almost fell to his knees right then and there, but no! he needed to tell her how she felt! "did you get my note?" tom asked, his hand wrapped around the back of his neck. then it hit y/n straight in the face, t.k = tom kaulitz, how could i be so fucking stupid? she thought to herself. "o-oh uh yea!" she answered nervously. "c-can i see it?" tom asked, y/n nervously giving it back. he opens it to see that it wasnt answered "you didnt answer it, do you not like me back?" tom felt his heart sting a little but it was soon reassured. "n-no i do like you, i like you a-a lot!..." y/n blurted out "i just didnt know what 't.k' meant at first until now..." tom chuckled, "what did you think it meant?" "i-i dont know...t-turkey kabob?" she joked, causing them to both laugh. after a moment of silence, tom speaks "so, are you my girlfriend now?" tom asked, not knowing where to go from here. y/n nods, giving him a hug. tom feels his heart flutter at the feeling of y/n in his arms. "you wanna hangout this weekend? ill ask my mom if its okay" she asked, tom nods "yea for sure! ill see you then"

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

it was now grade 8, tom and y/n have been dating for a year! their families have grown fond of each other and they hangout at each others house after school most of the week and sometimes on weekends...

with the condition that the door must stay open of course...

today they were at toms house, tom was showing her a song he was playing some guitar for her and she just peacefully watched. y/n always admired toms talent on guitar, she knew he was gonna make it big one day.

after a little while, he puts the guitar away and pats a spot next to him "wanna cuddle liebe?" he asked, she smiles and lays next to him. he pulls her into his embrace, her pretty head rests upon his chest as he strokes her hair.

as tom stroked her hair, y/n found herself staring at a particular feature on his face, his lips. the pretty pink color, the way they curved into a smile whenever he was happy, and oh my god his lip piercing...y/ns never kissed anyone before, but she wanted to kiss him so bad. "is something wrong?" tom asked, slightly nervous. "nothing its just..." y/n took a breath before she finished her question "h-have you ever kissed anyone?" tom sighed "uhm, yeah..my babysitter when i was like..9" "oh.." "why? have you ever kissed anyone schatz?" tom asked, y/n looks down; embarassed "n-no, i havent.."

then almost immediately, tom got an idea in his little brain>.<

"do you want to have your first kiss?" "well, yeah every girl wants to have their first kiss" y/n joked "no schatzi..." tom chuckled "i mean do you want to have it...with me?" y/n hesitates for a moment, nervous of if shes a good kisser or not. shes really new to this! what if shes a bad kisser? what if she goes too far? but it couldnt be that bad right? its just a kiss for christs sake!

"yeah..is that okay tommy?" "its more than okay with me schatzi.." tom sat up, scooting closer to her "you ready?" he asked...

y/n nods, shakily moving her face closer to him. tom places a hand on her cheek then boom! their lips were sealed together! (aww so cute! >.<) y/n places a hand on his shoulder, deepening the kiss. then they let go because if they kissed any longer they would suffocate!

"woah.." y/n mumbled, tom chuckling at her reaction "did you like it?" "yeah i did" y/n said, softly smiling... "then we should kiss more often then hm?" tom said, smirking at his girlfriend.

[grlsinterrupted]

frat bro ! dallas winston hcs ౨ৎ˖ ࣪⊹

quick little modern day headcanons that i’ve been thinking of .. also i’m so sorry abt how slow i’ve been with requests ! ₊˚⊹

-

general hcs :

THE ultimate nonchalant frat boy

the only clothing items he has in his closet are tank tops, nike shorts, some snapback hats, and a pair of yeezy slides

when he first pledged, his frat forced him to make tiktoks with soda and steve dancing to audios

HE WAS SO UNENTHUSIASTIC.

like go girl give us nothing !!

but all know that secretly, he loved doing all those stupid little dances

he LOVES hazing the freshmen

one time he started a fight club and made all the pledges fight eachother

the loser had to take a shot

unfortunately, the whole fight club did not last very long .. :(

he refuses to drink white claws or twisted teas

or any sweet alcohol, for that matter

“i don’t drink that pussy shit. in this frat, we shotgun beers like real men.”

he’s assigned to kick any unwanted people out of the parties

gosh .. all of this partying just to have a 0.42 gpa

he tries to convince everyone that he STRICTLY listens to rap

he’ll play drake, 21 savage, future, and travis scott whenever he’s in front of people

then he’ll make disgusted faces and fake gagging sounds whenever a taylor swift song plays

but when it’s just him, he’s BLASTING taylor swift

he belts all the lyrics to don’t blame me despite how tonedeaf he is

sometimes two will walk in on dal while he’s singing

”okay, justin bieber,” two slow claps his way into dal’s room. “you should really go on america’s got talent, y’know. you’ve got the voice of an angel.”

”GET THE FUCK OUT, TWO!” dal swings an empty can at two’s head, hitting him on the way out

dating hcs :

surprisingly amazing at beer pong?

he forces you to be his partner every time you guys play

once the two of you win, he celebrates with a makeout session in front of EVERYONE

it’s safe to say that no one’s ever challenged you to beer pong after your 5th win with him

if the making-out doesn’t make your opponent quit, his taunting will

when he scores, he starts beating his chest and screaming “YOU DONT KNOW ME, SON! YOU NOT LIKE THAT, LIL BRO!”

he’s a sappy drunk. you can’t convince me otherwise

“mmphh.. doll, why ya so far away from meeeeeee? come closer, i miss yoooouuuuuu..” dal’s words are slurred, his cheeks flushed with red from all of the alcohol he’s been drinking. he grabs onto the sleeve of your sweater, pulling you closer towards him.

”you’re so clingy when you’re drunk.” you roll your eyes, gently running your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles his head into your neck.

we all know that he’s the one screaming, “IF YOU’RE NOT IN SIGMA LIGMA CHI, GET THE FUCK OOOOUUUTTTTTT!”

but occasionally, he’ll set up a chair for you to stand on top of

then, you get to scream at the top of your lungs, “GET THE FUCK OOOUUUTTTTTT!!”

if you’re not allowed to stay the night at the frat house, him and like 5 other brothers will walk you back to your dorm

all the brothers love you .. or maybe they just act like it because they’re actually TERRIFIED of dal

the amount of sass this man gives you whenever he’s hungover? he is literally such a diva

like damn girl who hurt you..

he secretly uses your skincare products whenever you stay over

he likes that your moisturizer makes his skin look all shiny

you’ll spend most of your sunday mornings taking care of him and making sure that he drinks plenty of water

dallas lets out a low groan, pulling his blanket over his head as you nudge his shoulder.

”dal, hurry up and drink your liquid iv. it’ll make you feel better.” you pull his blanket down, placing the lip of the cup by his mouth.

”nooooowuuahhhh, i’m too tired..”

despite the stereotype the frat guys get laid by 30 girls a night, we all know that dal is so loyal to you

he’ll just grimace at any sorority girl that approaches him

@glxsyymads ik you asked for some frat headcanons so i’m just going to tag you so you can see :)

-

[revasserium]

hi! I've been reading your opla!zoro stuff and I wanted to tell you your writing is so gorgeous! it's truly breathtaking, you're really talented ❤️ i've looked through your prompts tag, im not sure how requesting works, but could I ask for "edge of falling" or "the spaces between us" (whichever one you like the most) with zoro and fem!reader? i'm a goner for longing and feelings realization and the prompts give me those vibes, but i'm sure anything you write will be lovely <3

reqs are open!

the edge of falling

opla!zoro; 7,475 words; fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, passing mentions of: cult!, physical violence, & trauma/cult-programming, ex-cult member!reader, strawhat!reader, traumatized!reader, protective!zoro, healing from past trauma, learning to trust etc, angst with a happy ending!, a metric TON of plot

summary: "Lie to me," Time said to Love; Love smiled and said, "I promise, I'll never let you slip away."

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! i uhm idk what happened with this fic tbh. there's def uh -- longing of SOME kind here??? welp. pls read the tw list! there's some dark-ish content in this. but i promise it ends well u__u

prelude: in which a fox teaches you to speak

Time is the greatest liar, so you are told, over and over and over. For the longest time, you think it’s the only truth you’ll ever know.

But we will live forever…

So long as you do the things you’re told. So long as you make the Fox happy. So long, so long, so long.

There is no way to mark the passage of time in the compound; with no sunlight to guide the way, you are left to other, more primal ways of keeping track — that elusive, silver-fish creature — time — always slipping through your fingers when want to hold on most.

You measure it in wounds, in the time it takes for a fresh wound to seal over, for the scab to break and reveal the soft, tender pink flesh beneath. You measure it in gulps of water, in bites of cold food, in the droplets of artificial rain that they let fall through the ceiling sometimes. You measure it in rewards too, in long baths and hot meals, in the evenings when the Fox would tell you stories in his low, lilting voice instead of leaving you in his seething silences.

And he is ever so good with stories. If you stay still and keep quiet, and let his voice wash over you like a hungry tide across a rain-starved beach, you can feel the words seeping into your bones, ringing out till they feel like nothing but god’s given truth.

As long as you’re good… I promise I’ll make you live forever.

Like this, you learn the weapon of words, the power of speech, how to listen for lies, and how to tell them, and tell them, and tell them.

The Fox is good at lying; you’ll just have to learn to be better.

act i: yet another sad, desperate soul

Roronoa Zoro has never been a man of many words, but it would be remiss to say that he isn’t a man of his word — you see, when he does speak, he speaks with intention. And always, with conviction.

“Hey. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, then, is the first lie he tells you.

“Liar.” You spit out the word, drawing back, your body a tangle of livewire nerves, your eyes darting back and forth, an entire life’s worth of fight and flight caught on the hair-pin trigger of his breath as he jolts back slightly and blinks at you.

“Y-you — you can’t know that,” you say, your voice still ragged. But Zoro sees it for the attempt it is — an olive branch, however tentatively extended. And he takes it, wordlessly.

He nods once, reaching out to help you up. The compound crumbles around you, and you unconsciously wrap your arms around yourself, as if to hold yourself together, to keep from shattering into a hundred million tiny little shards of pain and mistrust.

“The fox-guy’s dead! But it looks like this whole island’s gonna blow!” Nami races out of the massive, temple-esque structure just as it starts to collapse from the inside out.

Luffy slingshots passed, cackling as Sanji and Usopp bring up the rear. On the Merry, Robin and Chopper are waiting, and the second Zoro manages to hoist you onto the main deck, the ship careens off into the dark tumult of waves.

You skitter away the minute Zoro’s arm slips from around your waist, and he turns to find you pressing yourself back against the railings, staring at them all with wide eyes, your expression caught halfway between fear and consternation. He takes half a step back, crossing his arms just as Luffy bounds forward with a bright, unassuming smile.

“Don’t worry! You’re safe now!” He makes to slap one of your shoulders but you duck out of the way, chewing on your bottom lip.

Robin clears her throat gently and offers you a smile, “We’re not going to hurt you.”

You narrow your eyes, your gaze darting between them like a trapped animal, but after another beat of stillness (punctuated only by Nami swearing softly to herself as she steers the Merry around a particularly difficult formation of rocks), your entire body seems to soften, and Zoro uncrosses his arms again, resting a hand casually on the hilt of his blades.

“Th-thank you…” you bob your head once, swallowing hard passed chapped lips and a raw throat. Your white linen dress is stained with blood and dirt, a tear at your collar making it slip from your shoulder.

“’S alright now, darlin’ — how bout we run you a nice, hot bath? I could cook you just about anything y’like. Fancy a drink as well? I think a bubbly would be good for a —”

“Lay off, cook.” Zoro cuts Sanji off with a scoff, barring Sanji’s approach with an arm in the gut.

You watch them with dark eyes, your expression curiously blank.

“Will you let me look at your wounds?” Chopper offers.

You jump a little at his voice, piping up from your left side. You glance at Zoro once before looking back at Chopper and nodding.

Sanji tucks his hands into his pockets and watches as Chopper leads you beneath the deck, Zoro following a few steps behind. He lights a cigarette as soon as the trap door clanks shut.

A beat of silence, and then —

“Wow, that island really, really sucked!” Luffy says, turning back to his crew.

Sanji lets out a puff of smoke as Usopp slumps down against the main mast with a groan.

“You can say that again.”

“What happened?” Robin asks.

Sanji sighs, shaking his head, “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

Below deck, Chopper dabs at your wounds with expert ease as you sit very still on the kitchen island and Zoro watches from the sofa, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“These surface wounds aren’t that bad but…” Chopper trails off, his eyes running over the network of old scars that mar your skin, layers and layers of them — down your arms and along your torso.

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice smooth as polished marble, “I’m —” you swallow, “I’m fine.”

And if it weren’t for the hiccup, the slight hitch in your breath, you would’ve been utterly convincing. Your expression is flat, your voice, even more so.

Across the room, Zoro makes disbelieving noise, “If it hurts, just say so. Chopper’ll fix it.”

“I’m… I’m fine,” you say again, tugging at the sleeve of your torn shift, your tone now a bit more honest, your words tired and resigned. Zoro looks to Chopper, who gives a faint nod of acquiescence before Zoro stands up and jerks his head towards the door.

“Cook’s right — you should wash up before dinner.”

You follow him down the hallway, through a small door that leads into a washroom that’s much cleaner than one might expect a ship’s bathroom to be. A large, wooden soaking tub sits in the middle of the room, and a clean change of clothes has already been laid out on a bench next to the bath.

Zoro grunts after he takes a once-over of the room, satisfied that all’s in order, and makes to leave.

You tug at his sleeve, head lowered.

“Can you…” you lick your lips, “can you stay?”

Zoro glances down at your fingers curled into his shirt sleeve before his eyes flick up to find your face. You’re looking at some indiscriminate point over his left shoulder, but your lips are trembling and your jaw is set.

He lets out a long breath, slowly twisting his body towards the room and you.

“Sure.”

He makes a show of turning around to face the door as you slip off your clothes and sink into the steaming bath water. A long exhale and the light slosh of water is all the indication he gets that it’s safe to turn back around.

He leans himself against the door, his swords propped on his shoulder, his head lolled back, his eyes closed.

He listens to the soft sounds of the water, to the faint splashes as you rub the grit and grime from your skin, inch by inch.

“We were only allowed to bathe as a reward for doing a good deed.”

Your voice makes him open his eyes, his gaze focusing in on the shape of you, nearly submerged in the bathtub, your hair slick and sticking to your pale shoulders. Even in this dim lighting, he can see the patterns your scars make against your skin. Water glimmers along the contours of your face as you run your palms along your cheeks, rubbing at them till they’re ruddy with color.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Quit bein’ so rough,” he moves forward without thinking, reaching out a hand to help you with some of the more stubborn pieces of dirt but he pauses, realizing how utterly still you’ve gone.

You stare at him for a long moment before relaxing back into the water and shifting towards the edge of the tub to allow him better access.

He runs a callused thumb along your cheekbones, wiping away the remaining dirt there.

“What was a ‘good deed’?” he asks, letting the tips of his fingers skim the warm water’s surface.

You shrug, “Mostly anything that made Mr. Fox happy… so all of us would —” you take another breath, your hand opening and closing beneath the surface of the still bath water, “we’d spend all our waking hours trying to think of something — anything — that’d please him. No matter how small… no matter how… terrible.”

“This Mr. Fox… what was his deal, anyway?”

You stare down into the dark water, now rapidly cooling from warm to lukewarm.

You take a deep breath, lifting a hand out of the water to distort the image of your ghostly reflection.

“He… was a liar. Except… he could make all his lies sound like the truth.”

“It was uncanny, really,” Sanji says, now at full throttle in the kitchen prepping for dinner service, Usopp lounging on sofa, his feet propped up on the hanging table.

Chopper and Robin both frown.

“What do you mean?” Robin asks.

“It was like… the guy could say anything and make it sound like the truth — even though you knew somewhere inside you that it can’t be real. Like — he could tell you the sky was green and every single part of you would believe him, even though you’re outside and starin’ up at the sky.”

“Yeah! Like he said I’d never be able to beat him and… for a second, I kinda almost believed him!” Luffy offers, munching on a bushel of apples and spitting out the seeds.

Robin’s brows furrow, tapping at her chin with a thin finger.

“It sounds like the Uso-Uso no Mi…”

“Ugh, what a weird, scary power…” Chopper shudders, shaking his head, his tiny hooved hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “I’m sure it’d mess with people’s heads!”

“It sure did. But he also used it to feed false information to the Marines,” Nami says, slipping through the half-opened door to join the rest of the crew on the sofa, “ran a series of taverns that just so happened to be situated in major Marine towns.”

Sanji glances up from a huge, steaming pan of paella, a cigarette caught between his teeth.

“So what was his end goal then? Just to fuck over the Marines?”

Back in the bathroom, you run your fingers along the edge of the tub as if playing an invisible piano.

“Power, domination… I don’t think he had a goal or purpose… I think… he just got off on it…”

Your voice is light, conversational, almost as if you were talking about the weather. But Zoro sees the glazed look in your eyes, the tightness at the edges of your lips.

“You called me a liar,” he says, reaching into the tub and flicking you lightly with a bit of water.

You blink, a smile threatening the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah… guess I did.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

He pulls out his hand and wipes it on a towel, leaning back to stare at you.

You shrug, “Sometimes… people lie to others, and sometimes, people lie to themselves. It’s the ones we tell ourselves that are always the most convincing.”

“I don’t lie. ‘Specially not to myself.”

You let out a tiny laugh, “But I guess… sometimes, if you believe in something hard enough… it’ll just start to be come the truth.”

There’s a note of… something in your voice that Zoro doesn’t like, but he can’t put a name to the feeling so he stays quiet as you continue the laborious work of scrubbing your skin clean, till all the water in the tub’s gone cold.

The rest of the evening passes as most evenings on the Merry do after a big fight — with a lot of food and even more booze. With music and laughter, and new crew member, sitting in the corner, watching mostly and smiling occasionally. No one pushes you, though Sanji does make a valiant effort in getting you to admit to your favorite foods, and Luffy tries two or three times to drag you into the more raucous celebrations (mostly involving way too much meat being roasted on a spike).

No one questions the way Zoro never wanders too far.

No one questions the way your eyes track him around the room, or how, even when Robin and Nami finally get a laugh out of you, you still instinctively searched for Zoro’s figure till you’ve found it in the other corner, a bottle caught between his lips, his eyes half-shut but his gaze caught on you like a fish to a seaman’s hook.

act ii: everything and nothing

A week passes, and then another. And you slowly, but surely, come out of your shell — it’s a strange sort of blossoming, the way you reveal yourself in shards and pieces, jagged and jarring. The shrapnel bits of your personality peaking out amidst the flotsam and jetsam of all your manifold defense mechanisms.

You’re a brilliant liar, but even better at spotting a lie, and it’s a thing that none of the crew had ever really thought about until you’d come along, casually poking holes in their daily deceits.

“Mm! These pancakes are perfect! Just the way I like them!”

“The new dress looks beautiful, Nami.”

“I absolutely did not finish the last bag of popcorn… Luffy did it!”

You clear your throat.

“Okay fine… the pancakes were really good but… but I like them… sweeter.”

“The dress is… well, everything looks gorgeous on you, of course, you know that Nami! But — the color… clashes just a tiny little bit with your… hair.”

“I might’ve uh… taken a few bites out of the popcorn bag… last night… but I was keeping watch and I needed to keep my energy up!”

Robin titters, a sphinx-like smile spreading across her lips.

“Apparently, 60% of people lie at least once every 10 minutes,” she says, casually taking a sip of orange juice as Zoro runs through his daily training regime, seemingly unbothered by the chaos currently taking place on the main deck regarding the “popcorn incident”.

“Dunno why people bother,” Zoro says, working through a set of single-armed burpees.

“I suppose it’s just human nature. We want other people to like us… so we say what we think they might want to hear, instead of what we really think. It’s harmless, mostly,” Robin remarks, leaning back against a white planter box, basking in the shade of the tangerine trees.

“Till it isn’t,” Zoro says, finishing up his workout and pushing himself up for a long stretch. He casts his eyes once more towards where you’re now laughing as Usopp tries to think of some new tall tale to tell.

It only takes you half a second to turn your head, and Zoro wonders at the kind of life you might’ve led to make you so sensitive to another person’s gaze. What must’ve happened to warrant this kind of alertness? But then again, he’d been a hunter long enough to know exactly what being hunted looks like.

He caught a glimpse of it at the compound but — still, his fingers itch toward his swords, his jaw clenches tight enough for Robin to cock her head and raise a brow.

“Yes… until it isn’t…” she echoes, her eyes also trailing towards you.

Zoro holds your gaze for a second before rolling his shoulders and looking away, squinting at the far horizon.

“Oi. Looks like trouble.”

Robin straightens, and a second later, Chopper sounds the alarm from the crow’s nest.

“Marines! Marines!”

There is the shink of swords being drawn, the gentle echo of Robin’s voice as her arms multiply. There’s canon fire and a lot of yelling. But at the end, there’s only bodies and blood and the tattered remains of the Marine’s ship, bobbing in the stained sea below them.

“Should we go after them?” Sanji asks, lighting up a cig, watching as the tiny emergency boat rows off into the distance.

“Nah. We’ll be alright!” Luffy says, wiping a hand across his nose.

Zoro turns towards you, sheathing his swords.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say, your voice immediately taking on an unctuous sheen that makes Zoro take a step closer.

“You hurt anywhere?” he runs an appraising eye down your form and nods in the knowledge that at least you don’t look hurt.

“No… I —” you chew down on your bottom lip, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your arms. But you back away from him the moment he tries to take a step forward.

“Hey — quit that,” he taps at your wrist with the hilt of his sword, the touch hard but not harsh, forcing you to pull away.

“It’s — I’m — I’m alright,” you say, insistent and mollifying. Zoro runs his thumb against the hilt of his blades and scoffs.

“Liar,” he says, tossing the word casually back at you in a way that makes your breath hitch. Then, he turns, and marches below decks to tend to his own wounds.

A deafening silence rings out around you as you stare down at the ships blood-drenched planks before Robin places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon now — lets get your back looked at.”

Below decks, you find Zoro dabbing gingerly at a large slash on his right arm.

“Here, you’ve missed a spot —” you reach out to take the iodine soaked cloth from Zoro’s hand, only to have him jerk away. You flinch back, wide-eyed.

Zoro softens, if only ever so slightly.

“I’m fine,” he says, a harsh edge to his voice as he goes back to trying to twist around himself enough to see the spot he’s missed. You purse your lips, watching him for a second, two seconds, three — before you glance back at the place Robin had been only to realize that she’d gone.

“May… I?” you reach out your hand, palm up, tentative and imploring. But you hold yourself still, waiting for Zoro to make the next move. And he does, eventually, sighing as he turns back around to drop the piece of cloth into your palm.

You reach forward as he turns to his side, offering up his arm as you slowly start to wipe away at the bits of dried blood caking his skin to reveal the raw, red gash, the angry, raised flesh around it. You lean forward, blowing slightly as you daub at the wound, making your way down his bicep till the entire cut’s been coated in iodine.

“There. All done.”

You lean back to toss the cloth into the sink but Zoro stops you. He catches your wrist in his good hand and with a slight tug, has you toppling forward towards his chest.

“Turn around.”

His voice is soft, but firm. And it leaves no room for protests as you stare at him for a long moment before sighing and resigning yourself to your fate. You turn to show him your back.

A disgruntled huff is all you get before you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro rummaging around the first aide kit for a fresh piece of cloth, and the pop of the iodine bottle opening again.

“Who did this?” he asks as he slowly reaches out to tug a thin spike from your skin, small as a needle and just as sharp. You bite back a wince.

“The porcupine guy…” your voice trails off as Zoro grunts.

“Right.”

He tugs out another spike; it tinks against the metal of the sink as he tosses it away. A brief sting, and then the cooling feeling of the iodine cloth.

After a few minutes of working in silence, Zoro sighs.

“Geez, he really got you bad, didn’t he?”

“Not really,” you say, and you feel Zoro’s hands pause.

“No?”

You shake your head, “I’ve… been through much worse… and lived to tell the tale so…”

Zoro doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re talking about your past on the island, inside that windowless compound. He can see it in the scars that mar nearly the entirety of your back, the criss-cross lines of what looks like knife-wounds, the occasional puckered marks that look suspiciously like burns. He steels himself then, and continues to work — plucking out a spike and cleaning out the wound.

“You were right,” he says, when he finally finishes cleaning up your back and you both straighten to face each other. He wipes his hands clean and winces slightly as he flexes his newly bandaged arm.

“Right about what?” your voice is innocent, but the flash in your eyes tells him that you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“That first day — I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t… make sure that no one ever hurt you again.”

His fingers curl into fists at his sides and you can see the muscle ticking in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

You reach out, tracing a thumb along his jawline. When you pull back, there’s a small daub of blood on your finger and you wipe it away without breaking his gaze.

“No, you couldn’t but… you tried.”

Zoro scoffs, “Tryin’s not good enough.”

“No,” you jerk up to glare at him, your voice harsh in a way that he’s only ever heard right after they’d rescued you, the edges of your words raw and ragged as a serrated blade, “trying is everything.”

interlude: truth or dare

It gets better after that, and you grow and bloom and grow some more. Zoro does too, though in his own way — he gets stronger, gets faster, hits harder. And though you two never quite agree on anything, he is always by your side, and you’re somehow always by his.

“’M not even a lil drunk —”

“Liar~” you singsong, giggling as Zoro shakes his head, tipping the remains of a bottle of sake back down his throat before wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.

“Mm… ‘s that all I am to you? Just another guy who lies?” Zoro swings lazily on the hammock hung on the main deck, his eyes half-lidded and alight with the dancing firelight.

“Stupid question — drink,” you answer, bringing our own bottle up to your lips.

Zoro laughs, quiet and pleased as he reaches for a new bottle.

“Alright then — truth or dare?” he asks, uncorking the new bottle and reaching out to offer you some. You bat him away, your movements languid and heavy, your back pressed against a heavy wooden barrel, one leg propped up to support your arm, the other stretched out long and lithe in front of you.

“Truth,” you say, your voice easy, your smile even more so.

“Alright then — do you trust me?” Zoro’s voice dips, and your eyes flash up. There’s a sobering light somewhere behind the alcohol soaked haze clouding his gaze and you can tell by the steadiness of his hands that he’s not nearly as drunk as he might seem.

“What do you mean?” you ask, casually evading the question.

Zoro tuts, “’S not an answer.”

“I’m asking for a clarification.”

Zoro shakes his head, taking another soft swig, “Simple question — do you trust me?”

You purse your lips, mulling over the myriad answers you could provide and make it sound like the truth. But that’s not really how the game goes. So instead, you take a deep breath.

“I — I want to,” and it’s the way your voice breaks that makes it honest, the way you can’t hold the truth in by the seams of your careful cadence, no matter how hard you try to smooth out the ragged edges.

“So… that’s a no,” Zoro says, keeping his tone even. You can’t help reaching for him — imploring.

“Not yet but —”

“Why?”

“Why… what?”

“I guess…” Zoro leans back, casting his eyes up at the wild, dark sky, careening above the ship in an ecstatic spread of stars and, long sinuous, moon-silvered clouds, “why d’you want to trust me? Doesn’t seem like something you’d be eager to do after… y’know, everything.”

You lick your lips and stare into the empty bottom of your glass.

“Honestly?” you say, “because you’re kind of a shit liar —”

Zoro lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, but doesn’t deny it.

“But… also because you’re the only person I’ve met who… who treats words so carefully — I mean…” you swallow, leaning forward slightly as Zoro drops his gaze back down to you, “it’s like — my whole life has just been people saying things they don’t really mean, and never meaning what they say, and then trying to figure out what’s really happening — trying to say the right thing, not the thing you mean but the thing you think they’d want to hear —” your breath quickens, “and — and if you don’t or if you’re bad at it, then bad things happen to you and the people you care about —”

“Hey.”

A hand presses down on your shoulder and you gasp, your breath knifing through your chest as you clasp your shaking hands to your sternum.

“Breathe. You’re okay.”

You nod, unable to say anything as Zoro sits in front of you, his hand like an anchor in a summer storm, keeping you tethered.

You breathe and take stock of your limbs — feet, legs, hands, arms. It’s then that you realize Zoro’s crouching in front of you, your drink glass resting by his side.

“Thanks,” you say, nodding as he gives your shoulder a slight squeeze before pulling away. Physical touch has never been one of your strong points, and it seems Zoro’s learned that without you ever having to tell him.

It’s strange — the sudden knowledge that somehow, his understanding of you has been wordless and implicit. Complete, from nearly the day the Straw Hats had picked you up on that island. You’d never had to explain, never had to draw your boundaries.

And yet somehow, he knew. As if he’d always just known.

“Truth or dare?” you ask him, your voice barely a whisper, shifting to make more space for him on the dark deck of the ship’s forecastle. Zoro sits down in front of you, crossing his legs.

“Dare.”

You don’t fight the grin as it lifts the side of your lips.

The quiet pulses between the pair of you like a heartbeat.

“Tell me a secret.”

“Gotta be more specific,” Zoro’s grin lilts to mirror your own.

“Any secret,” you say, “something you… something you wouldn’t otherwise say out loud.”

“Isn’t that what a secret’s supposed to be? Something you don’t say?”

You laugh, tasting the sound like a mouthful of champagne, bubbling up through you and spiraling towards the endless summer’s night.

“Quit stalling!”

“Think I wanna kiss you.”

A gasp slices through the air between you. You feel the weight of it in your throat, the white-hot flicker of his gaze as he glances down at your lips. You wet them without thinking, and as Zoro lean’s in, you can sense the night around you slowly coalescing into something warm, something solid. Like a marble clutched in a child’s palm, or a pearl held on an oyster’s velvet tongue.

“Truth or dare?” he asks.

He stops just short of your lips, his nose almost grazing yours. You can nearly taste the sweet sake on his breath —

“Dare.”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes flutter and for a second, an eternity revolves in the space between your heartbeats. Faintly, you register the gentle rocking of the ship as an indolent wave catches her starboard side.

You close your eyes.

For a second, there is space. For a second, there is breath. For a second, there is gravity. And then — all of that disappears. All of it eclipsed by the kiss. And then, the kiss is all there is.

All there was, and ever will be.

There’s a graze of fingers against skin, the bump of legs against legs against thighs against knees — there’s knuckles and noses and hair falling, hair being tugged into closing fists. There’s the clink-clink-clink of earrings, and the clatter-clap-clat of swords and hilts and rough, wooden planks.

There’s the dull thunk and baseline rumble of a glass being knocked over and rolling away.

But all of that is afterthought. All of that is supplement, a postscript, marginalia and footnotes.

Because there, then — there is only the kiss, and nothing but the kiss: a catastrophe of inevitability, smooth as a secret, and whisper-sweet.

When the pair of you pull away, there’s a chaos of wings against your ribcage.

There’s the honeyed, lambent light in Zoro’s eyes as he grins down at you.

“Truth — or dare,” a breathless gasp punctuates your words.

Zoro’s grin only grows as he tips your chin back between his thumb and forefinger.

“Dare.”

It’s only then that you realize his cheeks are wine-flushed, his chest rising and falling nearly as fast as yours. You swallow slow and track his eyes as he watches the pale bob of your throat.

“Kiss me again.”

act iii: fool’s gold

It takes all of three hours for Sanji to get something out of Zoro, and three days before Robin and Nami manage to wheedle something out of you.

“No seriously! Things have been different since that one party we had —” Nami presses her palm to the kitchen table, here eyes wide. Robin sits on the couch, her expression one of mixed amusement and near academic interest.

“Different how?” you reach into the cookie jar and fish out a crumbled corner of what used to be a double chocolate chip cookie.

“Ugh! You know what I mean!” Nami turns to Robin, motioning towards you, “Help me here!”

Robin laughs, tossing up a graceful hand, “I suppose something does seem… changed.”

“Something?” you ask, licking at a smudge of chocolate on your thumb.

“Well…” Robin says, drawing out the syllable and making to examine the nails on her long, thin fingers, “it’s definitely not nothing.”

You allow yourself a smile, “Something’s definitely not nothing.”

Nami lets out a frustrated groan, but she’s smiling too.

It’s been long enough that you’d learned to relax around them, and you’d since also learned that nothing is so sacred as the sanctity of sisterhood. That bonds between friends might be forged in fire and brimstone, but bonds between women are forged in cinder and smoke — in the wreckage of after, when the fighting’s been done and all that’s left is the mending.

“What’s all this giggling about?” Zoro ducks into the half-ajar door, staring at the three of you.

Nami cocks an eyebrow; Robin shrugs.

You, for your part, smile and bat your lashes.

“Oh nothing,” you say.

“Just girl-talk,” offers Nami.

“Nothing to interest a legendary swordsman like yourself,” Robin polishes off.

Zoro’s eyes narrow, his gaze jumping between the three of you before it lands on you and he scoffs.

“Yeah, whatever. We’re docking soon.”

And that’s all he offers before sauntering back out of the room, leaving the door swinging behind him, but not before you catch sight of the redness at the tips of his ears as he hurries away.

You give it a beat of three seconds before pushing to your feet and following after, humming to yourself. Behind you, Nami and Robin share a knowing look.

“Definitely not nothing,” Robin says as she stands to follow you.

The island, if it can even be called that, is nothing more than a rough conglomeration of steep cliffs strapped together by a thin band of land barely wide enough to be categorized as a beach.

“Well! This is something!” Luffy declares, his arms akimbo on his hips as he stares at the island.

“Yeah… it’s uh… something for sure,” Usopp agrees, making a face as he squints at the cluster of rocks that look more like the jagged edges of a broken bottle than any kind of proper land formation.

“We’ll just anchor here for the night… get some good rest, and then...” Sanji’s words trail off, interrupted by a ghostly wail that rises from the gathering of dark cliffs, turning them into an echo chamber until it seems to rumble through the sand beneath them.

“… gold, all gold! — no, not a liar — please!”

A shiver etches itself up your spine and instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself.

Zoro steps out in front of you, as if to shield you from whatever might come. His thumb presses against the hilt of his swords, his shoulders tense as corded wire.

“Uh… everyone else heard that too, right?” Chopper asks, peaking out from around Robin’s legs.

“Yep. Definitely not just you,” Sanji confirms.

Luffy grins, “Seems like there’s someone else on this island! Maybe they can show us around!”

Time passes by strangely on the island — one minute, the sun is still hanging low on the far horizon, and the next, the sky is the color of a bullet wound, darkness seeping in around the horizon.

“Whoever’s here on the island — they sure aren’t making it — easy —” Sanji grunts as he hoists himself up a slippery piece of rock face, sweat glistening on his forehead as he squints into the looming blackness.

“Luffy? You sure you know where we’re going?” Nami shouts, her voice ringing back in a way that makes everyone wince and cover their ears.

Zoro grabs your elbow a second before you slip, fingers digging into your flesh even as you steady yourself against him.

“Sorry — thanks,” you say, unsure of which one you really mean.

“Yeah! I can smell something — like a campfire! And… cooking!” Luffy’s voice calls back from somewhere in the gathering dark. Everyone shares a glance before bracing themselves and trudging on.

By the time you all catch up to Luffy, no one is certain of what time it is, only that it’s dark. But the kind of darkness that seems to cling to the skin — a darkness so dense it starts to take on shape and weight.

It presses in around you and you feel your breaths shortening in your chest.

Beside you, Zoro reaches out to brace a hand at the small of your back.

“Oh! I see a light ahead! C’mon!” Luffy’s voice rings out from somewhere up ahead, followed by the patter of sandals on stone. The rest of you follow, and then all too suddenly, light flickers to life in what seems to be a huge, subterranean cave deep within the cliffs of the island. It casts stark shadows against the slick, cavernous walls.

You frown, goosebumps rising along your arms and legs.

But before you have time to dwell on the wrongness of something there, Luffy’s voice snags your attention like a thread on an errant splinter.

“Hi! Oh, wow — that looks delicious!”

You turn a corner to find Luffy hunkering down over a blazing campfire and the silhouette of someone sitting opposite him, a sharp spike held out in front of them, turning slowly over the flickering flames.

“Oh… please… come join me — sit and listen to a story — I have so many stories — so many adventures to share!” the figure across the fire seems to quiver with the dancing flames, his voice filling up the whole of the cave, loud and boisterous and eager. But strange and hollow too.

You frown, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.

Ahead of you, Usopp and Chopper both take tentative seats next to Luffy, who had cheerfully plopped down next to the fire.

“Wow, this looks great! Are you here by yourself? I’m here with my crew! Are you a pirate too?” Luffy asks, his endless enthusiasm pouring from him like a spring.

Robin, Nami, and Sanji all hold back, but you take a step forward, and then another. Something compelling you towards the voice, pulling you closer. There’s a desperation, a loneliness with which you’re all too familiar — you inch closer, and then closer, till you’re almost level with Luffy, and you lower yourself to the ground next to him, Zoro dropping down beside you, his knee pressing against your leg in a silent reassurance.

“Come… come closer! It’s a good story — I promise!”

“Truth,” you mutter, just beneath your breath. Beside you, Zoro lets out a puff of breath, though his stance doesn’t loosen.

Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of the rest of the crew drawing just a step closer.

“Once upon a time… there was a city on an island where everything, and I mean everything was made of gold!”

The figure across the fire sounds cheered, elated even. Behind you, you feel Nami take half a step closer. Cold seeps into your veins despite the warm, dancing flames, and your fingers dig into the hard packed earth beneath you.

“I found it — I did! With my crew — the best sailors and seamen around! But the king… he was greedy! And he wanted his own men to take the treasures, so he forced me to lead them to the city again —”

“Truth,” you say again, but something in the tone of the figure’s voice makes you frown.

“Except… the city had gone… and there was nothing left… nothing but lies!”

You shudder back, swallowing hard. All around you, the darkness presses in with long, thin tendrils like so many loving fingers. The fire flares up, casting sparks up towards the cave’s ceiling, where stalagmites hang like broken teeth in a petrified monster’s maw.

“Oh… don’t be scared… come back — I won’t hurt you —”

“Liar!” you spit, the word scraping its way out of your throat.

Zoro leaps to his feet just as Luffy does the same. The fire flares again, a second before snuffing itself out, but in that second, you finally catch sight of the figure, hooded in shadow, sitting across from you — it has the shape of a man, tall and broad, but the limbs of a spindle-legged monster. It wears the darkness like a cloak, with beady, red eyes and a too-wide mouth.

“Don’t! Call me a liar! That’s what they called me — that’s what they called when they killed me! KILLED ME FOR TELLING THE TRUTH!”

You scramble back, Zoro nearly lifting you off the ground in his haste to pull you away. Luffy whips back his arm and swings it forward but all it catches is tendrils of shadow.

“Hey! That’s not nice!” he shakes off his fist, frowning as he stares at the bits of wriggling darkness still clinging to his skin.

“Run!” you shout as everyone bolts for the lightless path you all took to get to the heart of the cave.

“NOT A LIAR! NOT A LIAR! I FOUND IT! THE CITY! BELIEVE ME! BELIEVE ME!”

You clap your hands around your ears and race for what you hope is the exit. Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of Zoro’s blades whistling through the air*.*

“Damnit! How’dyou fight a shadow? There’s nothin’ to hit!”

“Quit tryna hit it and just run!” Sanji’s voice answers a second before he breezes passed you.

“Why don’t you believe me? Why?!”

“We — I believe you!” you shout, your chest a thundering mess of footfalls and scrambling bodies, and against all instinct, you turn around to face the darkness again, cupping your hands around your mouth, “I believe you! I know — I know you’re telling the truth!”

“What’re you doing?” Zoro asks, leveling himself by your side, his arm pressing against yours. Behind you, the thinnest sliver of light is creeping into the cave from what you assume is the entrance.

Morning. Has it really been that long?

Time is the greatest liar, you remember, suddenly, violently, the thought tearing through you like teeth.

“I — he’s telling the truth,” you say through gritted teeth, even as you take a few steps back. Inside the cave, the figure seems to shrink back from the encroaching light.

“What truth?” Zoro asks, his blade held aloft, his stance wide and ready.

“All of it,” you say, forcing your voice to be gentle, turning your face back towards the darkness, “I know, I can hear it — I know you’re telling the truth — about the island, the city — all of it!”

“Yes… all I wanted was to get back to the city… but… no one believe me… and I died… I died for it!”

“I know, and I’m sorry… no one should be punished for telling the truth —” your voice cracks.

“I tried!”

“I know…” you say as the figure shrinks and shrinks and shrinks and the light behind you grows and grows and grows, until you can feel the warm seeping into the skin of your back.

“And trying is everything,” you say, biting your lip as Zoro wraps an arm around your waist.

“Come with me… I’ll take you to the city — we can go together!”

You shake your head, heat prickling at your eyes as you turn away from the darkness of the cave and towards the light of the oncoming day.

“Liar…” the word falls from you like a rock, or a tear, cast off the cliff that greets you and Zoro as you both stare over the edge. The rest of the crew is nowhere to be found, but Zoro’s arm is still around your waist, and you can feel his warm breath by your cheek.

“Hey — do you trust me?”

You look up; in the dawning, morning light, Zoro, with his sun-kissed skin and dark moss hair appears to be limned in gold.

And maybe it’s the air, or the sea, or simply the angry pieces of this jagged, left-behind island of shadows like broken teeth trying to tear apart the sky, conducting his voice into a cacophony of echoes that sing and scream through the crags and eves of the valley beneath — but the whole island seems to reverberate with the question —

Do you trust me?

You close your eyes and breath. When you open them again, your heartbeat is steady. And when you speak, the rising sun streaks the tips of the saw-toothed peaks in strokes of molten gold. The valleys beneath you conduct your answer into an entire single-syllabled symphony —

Yes.

You feel his arm tighten around your waist, the wind as it tangles soft fingers in your hair. All around you, everything is light, and light, and light.

“Jump!”

You close your eyes, and jump.

-----

footnotes/appendix

uso-uso no mi translates to "lie-lie fruit"; i made it up bc it would be too op to have in the actual animanga i think

the "acts" refer to a classical 3-act structure that most movies/plays/scripts are written in: setup, confrontation, and resolution... with a smattering of other things sprinkled in for ~vibes~

in much of classical japanese and chinese mythology, foxes are associated with trickers and lies, often turning into beautiful women to deceive men, luring them into forests and mountains before taking their lives

the "figure" in the last scene is... can you guess? noland! kudos to anyone who figured it out as they were reading *\ (>o<) /*

did i absolutely take the "do you trust me" line from disney's aladdin??? HELL YEAH i did !!!! tru trust is my kink u__u

[royalarchivist]

CDawgVA: Did you envision back in the day when you were raiding Club Penguin icebergs that you would be here making advancements in language translation for streamers?

Quackity: Umm... You know what? It's really interesting because I was born and raised in Mexico, so growing up, I always thought of a world where someone who speaks Spanish but doesn't speak English could collaborate with a creator regardless of the language. So, it always was in my mind, and to see it come to fruition and see it happening and being able to meet all these talented, talented and incredible people that I now call close friends from around the world? That's- that' a blessing, and I'm so happy, I'm so thrilled.

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

-

CDawgVA: Hello and welcome back! I'm joined by Quackity. How you doing, man?

Quackity: I'm doing great, man! This is amazing, I'm so excited for today.

CDawgVA: The energy is palpable. It's not often the streamers get to go outside.

Quackity: That's true.

CDawgVA: However, you have been responsible for joining many streamers together with your QSMP, and not just streamers of the same language– streamers of all different kinds of language, and very recently, you added Korean!

Quackity: Yeah, that's right! We added a Korean creator, we're planning to add more, but this is an absolute– this is crazy, and to see all the nominations being like, all these creators, it's amazing! It's truly a wonderful thing to see.

CDawgVA: And you're nominated for three awards, if I'm not mistaken. Best Minecraft, is right, and best International Streamer, and Streamer of the Year. Are you excited? How do you feel like your odds are?

Quackity: To me, it doesn't matter. I'm nominated with like, all my friends, so I think we're all winning! We all get to celebrate together, whoever wins, so that's like, wonderful. I'm here for the show, I'm here for my friends, and that's the most important part to me.

CDawgVA: Yeah. As a content creator myself who's been living in different countries, and trying to integrate multiple languages, what are some of the challenges you've had trying to work with multiple languages and specifically, mainly Spanish and English for your audience, but trying to bring all these languages together? What's the biggest challenge you've been facing?

Quackity: Oh, well, I think the thing we look at the most is to make sure that all creators are very comfortable with it, right? It can be overwhelming, especially if they might not understand each other, you know, if we're using the real time translator that we have, we got to make sure that they're in a setting that the creators are comfortable with. That's the biggest thing, that's our biggest concern with all the time, and that's what we look forward to, like– making sure all the creators are feeling good!

CDawgVA: Did you envision back in the day when you were raiding Club Penguin icebergs that you would be here making advancements in language translation for streamers?

Quackity: Umm... You know what? It's really interesting because I was born and raised in Mexico, so growing up, I always thought of a world where, you know, someone who speaks Spanish but doesn't speak English could collaborate with a creator regardless of the language. So, it always was in my mind, and to see it come to fruition and see it happening and being able to meet all these talented, talented and incredible people that I now call close friends from around the world? That's- that' a blessing, and I'm so happy, I'm so thrilled.

CDawgVA: It is fantastic seeing all the advancements you guys are making, and just seeing that you bring streamers together! And I know the QSMP specifically has many events going on concurrently. Is there an event that you held last year that you were just really stoked about?

Quackity: Oh my gosh. Well, we host server-wide events for all the creators and everything just to give, you know, the creators a base where they can create content and all. The most recent one does sound funny, but it was called "QSMP Prison".

CDawgVA: Kai (?) did something like that actually.

Quackity: Right, but he did that in real life– no, we did it in Minecraft. But it was fun, it was cool to see all the creators, you know, all different languages kind of like in an enclosed space speaking to each other. It was a really cool thing.

CDawgVA: It's absolutely fantastic seeing what you're doing and I hope you have a great Stream Awards. It's an absolute pleasure getting to meet you, man. Enjoy the Stream Awards, I really appreciate it, man!

Quackity: Thank you so much!

CDawgVA: Keep doing what you're doing.

Quackity: Thank you!

CDawgVA: Thank you, thank you. Alright, I'm going to be throwing it back to another interview. So, see you guys then. Bye!

[sjywrites]

Hii can I request Sophia x reader academic rivals? 🥺 u can do whatever u want w the plot pretty much please and thank u so much <3 :)

༊*·˚ ACADEMIC RIVALS LOVERS?

𝓢ophia 𝓛aforteza x 𝓖n!reader. (no pronouns used). 𝓖enre. fluff, angst if you squint 𝓢ypnosis. our two favourite academic rivals have a lil fight, but the situation turns bad, and people realize their feelings. 𝓦𝓒 . 824 𝓒𝓦 . mentions of being hospitalised (sophia), a little angsty!

𝓝ote! this is a little messy since I wrote it during one of my breaks, but please lmk if you want like a part two cuz I really liked this plot!

---

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

At this point it didn’t even matter if you were better than everyone, you just had to be better than her. It started off very simple, both of you wanted to be better than everyone, academically that is. Eagerly waiting to get tests back and see who got a higher score, a smug grin on one's face when they got a better result than the other. No harm in that right? Wrong, that’s what started all of this.

Sophia walked towards me with her head held high, her uniform as neat as ever and her hair styled in a way making her look almost angelic. Wait, what? “What were your results?” She said, slamming her paper on top of my desk, I shook out of my daydreaming to answer her. “96.” I said while looking down in my maths book, trying to solve an equation but still focusing on what she would respond. She looks away and a teasing smirk spreads on her lips, and moves the finger that covered her results, 97. “Guess I’m just better than you huh?” She said proudly, staring down at me “Just because you got one point more than me doesn’t mean you’re better than me.” I said, pouting a little at her accusation.

Lately I’ve been feeling kind of… weird? Even if Sophia gets a higher score than me, I can’t find it in me to give a fuck. “Well, you’ve been slacking off a lot lately, I’ve gotten higher scores than you on the last four tests. So, I think that makes it obvious who's smarter!” Sophia states like it was the most obvious answer to what I said. Staring at her for a moment, I reply. “I've been busy okay, not everyone has that much free time to spend on studying, and you're talented in general, no wonder you get high scores” She looks shocked at my statement, then she smirks a little, “Did you just admit that I'm smart?” She looked proud in some way or another, “Not what I meant Sophia, but whatever floats your boat.” I grab my things from the desk and walk outside the classroom to my locker, a little frustrated at the whole situation. I did miss her response,

“I study that much so you won't think I'm stupid.”

A week goes by, no Sophia in sight. She missed two assignments, she's usually here every day. Even if she's sick, which I don't get why she does, but still. Did something happen to her? Was it something I did?

“You've been zoning out for the past like, three periods, what is going on with you today?” Lara, my best friend asks. “Do you know where Sophia is?” I ask, not really thinking before I ask. “Why do you want to know, don't you guys like, hate each other?” She looks at me with a very questionable look, suspecting something I cannot grasp, “Yes? No? I don't know Lara, but do you know where she is?” I say, a little confused and concerned. She looks at me with sad eyes before replying, “Y/N, Sophia got really sick out of nowhere, I heard she's at the hospital.” My eyes blew wide at the shocking news, why didn't she tell me? No, why would she do that? We're not even friends.

—

Am I really doing this? I think to myself as I open the hospital doors and stumble up to the kind-looking man in the lobby. I strike up a casual conversation with him as he guides me to a room, I thank him quickly before he scurries away.

There in the little window on the door I see her, Sophia's sitting down on the bed. Her hair is a mess and her clothes look ridiculous, it looks like she hasn't slept for a few days too. I gently open the door and her gaze falls upon me, it's easier to see her face now. She looks tired, really tired. “Hey…” I say, she looks away from me and cuddles up in her sitting position. “What are you doing here?” she tries to sound annoyed, but it just comes out in a tired huff. “I heard what happened, I… was worried about you. I brought some notes from the classes you missed.” She looks shocked at my confession, she relaxes her posture and her gaze becomes soft. “Thank you… I really appreciate it.” She smiles a little as she grabs the papers I handed her, our hands touching softly.

I look at her, really look at her. For the first time actually having time to admire how pretty she looks, how perfect her flaws are. “I just came to give you that… so if you don't need anything else, I'll go.” I turn around to walk away, grabbing the door knob and turning it around, “Wait! Will you… please stay with me a little longer, I need it.

I need you.”

this is so messy I'm sorrrrryyyy!! I wanted to post something today at least :((

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part five

art by the incredibly talented @piaart!

author’s note: finally have this finished but man is it hard to be satisfied. i keep wanting to work on it and work on it but i also really wanted to get this out! also don't even know if this is good teehee. lots of awkward here. 4.9k words. part one/two/three/four. ao3 linky.

The date is going surprisingly well. You chose an Italian spot (ha!) and have had your fill of lobster ravioli and Cabernet Sauvignon all while you learned more about Dylan since he graduated high school. Went to a state school in the middle of bumblefuck, drank and drank some more, got overly into the college culture (emphasis on cult) and tipped a few cows in his time. It aligns perfectly with the slivers of information Catherine gave you through the years, though he’s mentioned nothing of the steady college girlfriend he supposedly had. Interesting. You laugh at his dumb jokes. You’re smiley. But it does feel like an act that’s partially fueled by alcohol and having someone’s attention on you.

He’s still talking but you’re admiring his small, button nose, how his brunette locks shape his face and his bright smile. You can’t help but think his face is a little too smooth, though. Has this boy been through anything meaningful? Has he suffered at all in his shiny little life? Your mind drifts back to Terzo’s rough hands and how they felt on you earlier that day. He forced you to your knees and it was clear that it wasn’t the first time he’s done so. You can still taste him on your tongue.

“You haven’t told me about your job! Aren’t you like an assistant?” Dylan snaps you out of it and you offer a shy smile.

“Yeah! I had to get out of that call center, man. It was like draining my life force. Not that this isn’t difficult but it’s nice to not be yelled at by some rando on the phone for hours a day.” You toy with your glass of wine.

“So, like what do you assist in? Is it just you?”

Huh. You’ve never really explained exactly what you do to anyone. Not even Catherine or Erica — you only really focused on Him. That won’t go over too well in this situation, will it?

“It’s just me and it’s mainly house maintenance right now. My boss’ place was a disaster when I started.” Perhaps the most watered down description of your job.

“So you’re like… you’ve cleaned it up?” There’s judgment in his voice that’s immediately sobering. He stares at you blankly.

“I guess I meant more like projects. The last big one was fixing up his yard. I had to manage the budget and scheduling of the landscapers and stuff.” Your voice is flat.

“Oh, okay gotcha.” Dylan nods and he is back to smiling. You’re seething on the inside. Was your answer acceptable to him? “What’s your boss like? Is he a guy?”

What the.

“Yeah, he’s a guy. He’s a little weird. Definitely eccentric. I’ve tried not to pry too much into his personal life, you know. Boundaries and all that, but when I first started he had me sort out some of his things and it looked like he used to be the lead singer in a band.” Another oddly phrased question. At least now you’ve been prompted to bring up the man you haven’t been able to stop thinking about.

“Oh, shit! That sounds awesome! What band?”

Oh, do you hesitate. A long silence stretches between you two.

“I’m… I’m not sure I should say. I don’t want to blow up his spot or anything.” You’re sheepish suddenly and Dylan notices.

“Aw, come on. Who am I gonna tell?” A good question. You drum your fingers on the table, thinking about how you’ve never really told anyone who your boss actually is.

“Catherine will tell me if she finds out.” A warning, last one until the big reveal. Dylan nods enthusiastically, some of his hairs falling into his forehead. For a split second you think that maybe if you were younger with much less life experience perhaps he would be perfect for you. But you know too much and you know that he wouldn’t be able to give you what you want. “It was Ghost.”

“Oh.” He makes a face and leans back in his chair.

“Oh? Sorry, is that not impressive enough?”

“No, no. It’s still cool. They’re just… I don’t know.”

Do you continue this conversation? Do you care what he thinks? You don’t…but your curiosity gets the better of you.

“What is it, Dylan? Are they lame? I’ve tried to… you know, not dig too deep into it because I feel like that would affect my professionalism.” That and you didn’t want to completely pry into the man’s life.

“Oh, I get that. Uhhh, I mean they’re not REALLY metal. They say they’re metal but they’re not so it’s just a little weird.” He shrugs and crosses his arms. You knit your brows together because you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.

“Right. Okay.”

“Yeah, I mean, they are basically like pop. Not metal, not at all.” He sounds so impassioned and you nod along but it feels inappropriate. Why is he so pressed? It turns you off even more and you do everything in your power to get this date wrapped up. You are done drinking and you’re too full for dessert. Responses shorten and eventually you’re out front on the sidewalk waiting for an Uber. Dylan has insisted on waiting with you and hovers just a bit too closely by your side. He seems a little oblivious to how this date has gone, bless his heart.

“Well, this is me.” Awkward, so awkward. You move to get into the car but Dylan stops you by your arm and leans in for a kiss. It’s truly over before it starts, a quick peck before he pulls away with a smirk. You are dying on the inside.

“We’ll hang out again soon, yeah?”

“Sure. Yes.” You lie and hurry into the Uber, wanting nothing more than this wretched day to finally end.

Terzo blinks awake. The cool air of the night pricks his cheeks. Leaves crunch beneath his soggy socks. He coughs, blood spilling from his mouth and splattering on his thick chest hair. A robe hangs loosely from his shoulders. Terzo’s eyes drift down to his hand to see he’s wearing his black gloves with sharp, golden nails. He squints and there’s something black stuck to one of the points. Gaze drifts to where he is. His driveway. A breeze rolls by that sends shivers down his spine as his eyes focus on your car.

He’s slashed one of your tires.

Terzo cackles wildly upon this realization. This is new even for him and his weird, otherworldly tendencies. Could be straight up mental illness. He takes a few lumbering steps forward before crouching to eye the tire, surveying the damage. Completely shredded with the rim touching the ground. There’s a familiar buzzing in his skull, a buzz that he used to get while performing. How far he had fallen. Still, he’s delighted with himself. A fitting punishment for the way you crushed him earlier. What hubris you had for leaving your car on his property. Rage shoots through him for a quick moment, the thought of you spending the night with your date crossing his mind. Would this boy drop you off in the morning? He could plan for that.

In his fits of unsatisfying sleep, ideas for being cruel sprang to his mind. He’s settled on ignoring you for most of tomorrow, to have you toil away waiting for any kind of attention but to no avail. Terzo would be watching you the whole day, of course, hidden away in dark corners and peering down from atop the grand staircase. He has always been the best at sneaking around undetected out of all of his brothers, having avoided so many moments where his father could have reamed him out due to this expertise. Primo and Secondo weren’t so lucky.

Sharp pang in his chest from thinking about them.

No, no. He must focus on you. He pushes the thoughts back to the void. You’ll be trapped here at the end of your workday because of this, wouldn’t you? That’s when he’ll reveal himself. He’ll torture you. Tease the information of your date out of you.

How well could it have gone when you are so devoted to him?

The house is cold without him, a shiver running down your spine every time you found yourself in a dark corridor. You try to keep your thoughts to a minimum and are somewhat thankful that the contractor was able to come today. He’s a quiet man but seems to enjoy your cheerfulness which breathes life into an otherwise miserable day. Between directions and answering questions, you would wander the first floor and hover by the stairs, listening for any signs of life only to hear silence. The last time you saw him flits through your mind — the pressure of the hand on your neck that forced you to the ground seconds after he angrily spat in your face seconds after he kissed you. What the hell. You should be furious at him for treating you that way, for leaping over the carefully placed boundaries the two of you have been dancing around for weeks.

But instead you sigh dreamily. You burn for him. Cheeks grow hot just from thinking about his rough hands on you. You hope he’s okay. And you’re sure he is, he’s a big boy.

The fact that you’re more worried about his feelings than you are about potentially losing your job over this is not lost on you. You’ve lived in constant fear of getting fired over the smallest mistakes since the start of this job but you are oddly calm about this situation. This feels like a natural progression. There was going to be a time where you had to confront this strange connection and you would rather it happen sooner rather than later with the way things have been going. As painful as it would be (emotionally AND financially) to say goodbye to him maybe it would be best for it be sooner rather than later.

The day goes by at a painfully slow pace with no sign of him. Anxiety builds and builds as you watch your clock tick down on your phone. You’ve taken to painstakingly wiping down every single mirror on the first floor (there is an absurd amount of them) because it takes up time and gives you something to focus one. After a while interacting with the contractor becomes painful for you, too heightened to be able to function in a normal social setting. You send him home early with a smile, being Friday and all, and you continue carrying out your mirror mission. This takes you to around 4:30 at which point you say “fuck it” and decide it’s time for bed! What is the point of even being here anymore when you could be under your comforter with a pint of chocolate chip ice cream as you ponder your existence?

It was an easy decision.

You meander out the front door, making sure not to slam it shut but have it at least be somewhat loud to announce your exit. Yes, you are stooping that low. A quick wave of relief washes over you because you made it. The day is over and while the issue looms you are at least out of his domain. Car keys jingle in your pocket. You make quick work of the walk from the porch to your car until the state of your tire stops you in your tracks.

“Oh my god!” You’re in disbelief. It’s like an animal chewed through the rubber. Your rim is on the ground. Tears start to well up in your eyes. This is it. This is the thing that’s pushed you over the edge today. A frustrated screech bubbles up your chest.

“Come back inside.”

You freeze as soon as you hear his voice. Spinning on heel, you turn to face him. He’s standing with his arms crossed, leaning against a column on the porch. His dress shirt is the darkest black you’ve ever seen, partially unbuttoned to show off thick chest hair and cut slacks show off his strong thighs. Did he get dressed up for you? His paint is crisp and hair is slicked back neatly. Fuck, he looks good*.*

“I can get an Uber?” A question as if you’re asking him permission, taking a few tentative steps towards him.

“Hmmm. No. I’ll call you a driver.” A rough response but you can’t help but feel warmth blossom in the pit of your stomach. “Get back inside.” Terzo growls, his gaze stern and pointed. He leaves you alone in his front yard. You feel silly by how hard your heart hammers in your chest but this is what you’ve been wanting all day. A moment passes by and you work up your courage to go inside and take your punishment. Thoughts of your shredded tire fade.

You walk inside the foyer and follow the sound of clinking glasses, finding him at the bar in the den. Terzo’s gaze falls to you then he directs you to the couch with his eyes. You silently follow the order and sit on one of the couch cushions furthest away from him. There’s a lump in your throat, fidgeting with your hands as you wait for him to join you. Eventually he turns around to face you with two drinks in his hand, one a red martini with a lime green umbrella and the other a pint full of something gross looking - not beer but still brown? His face is blank and you try to match his energy but it’s hard to keep your blush at bay. You reach out to take the martini from him but he pulls it back out of your grasp and instead presses the pint into your hand. The smell fills your nostrils: whiskey. Yuck. He runs a hand through his hair as he takes a seat on the other side of the couch, allowing for plenty of space between you two.

“You’ve called the driver already, right?”

“Yes.” He rolls his eyes but you’re still not sure you believe him.

Terzo’s arm stretches across the back of the couch, gloves just brushing your shoulder. Your grip on your whiskey tightens. This isn’t his usual charming aloofness, there’s something cold and cruel bubbling beneath the surface. Still, you want nothing more than to speak to him, even if he’s obviously pissed at you. He lifts his other hand up to his face, admiring the sharp golden nails adorned to his leather gloves. Eyes slowly drag from them to settle on you, gaze so piercing and yet uninterested in you.

“So, you had him pick you up here, si?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Drink.” He points at your glass and narrows his eyes. Not playing around. You do as he says and take a sip. “Keep drinking.” Lip twitches in a faint show of satisfaction as you bring the glass up back to your lips and take a deep gulp. There’s delight in his eyes and you’re more than happy to play the game just to see more of it. Your eyes twitch and you cough once you set the glass, the whiskey burns your throat.

“It was convenient for him.” Words are rough from the sting of alcohol.

“Ohh, was it now?” Terzo growls and digs his nails into the couch, tearing into the fabric. The sound gives you goosebumps. You open your mouth but he’s too quick. “Finish your drink.” He snaps, daggers for eyes that sends a chill down your spine. You swallow thickly and toy with your glass with the tips of your fingers before bringing it back up to your lips. Head tips back, the room swirls and you swallow down the rest of the liquid.

“Gross. Ugh.” Grimacing as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “It’s less of a drive for him and I’m a pushover, okay?” You sigh, only partially joking. His eyes noticeably soften. You sink deeper into the cushion. “I said yes to this date because it was with my best friend’s older brother who I’ve known forever and I’ve always had a crush on him.” Terzo’s fingers shift from the couch to your shoulder, his nails just short of tearing through your shirt, his anger coming back up to a simmer just below the surface, but you continue on unafraid.

“I had to see what would happen. You have to understand… you build the thing up in your head as something perfect and special but then when you actually actually experience it…” You deflate and you eyes wander away from him, wanting to look anywhere else. “It’s never as good as you imagined it. Plus, he was a garbage kisser.” You immediately regret the words as soon as you say them. They hang heavy in the air and the air catches in your lungs. You feel him shift on the couch but you can’t bring yourself to look until his his hand curls around by back of your neck and forces you to look at him. Eyes sharp like knives.

“You let him kiss you.” A statement, not a question. Terzo makes you watch as he slinks closer to you. There’s like a current coming off of him right now that has you paralyzed even though you so badly want to protest. You whimper, words getting caught in your throat as he reaches for you. He grabs you by your waist with the tips of his claws poking against your skin, that delicious danger teasing you as always. “How did it compare?” Terzo trills, a charming smile with vicious edge. Hoo boy. Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“It didn’t compare at all.” You whisper as you try to sink as far into the couch as possible. Not because you don’t want to be close to him but you’re confused. Everything about this feels like a trap, like one wrong answer could set him alight but you’re not exactly fighting it. Instincts are telling you to run but you stay exactly where you are. Terzo’s hand drift up your sides, suggestively squeezing you in all the right places until he’s holding you by your shoulders. He’s smiling wider than before and there’s glee in his eyes — he’s pleased with you. A torrent of heat shoots through your core. He doesn’t say anything, merely taking in your reactions to his touches. His finger tips glide across your top, nearly clipping right through it until his hands settle around your throat. He squeezes just enough to make you gasp for air, then leans in to you, pressing his forehead against yours. You can feel his hot breath on your lips.

Tease.

“I could hurt you.” Terzo muses against your lips, lashes fluttering and eyes wide. There’s a slight tug at the corner of his mouth. Silence passes comfortably between the both of you as you take in each other’s breaths and warmth.

“I know. I’m… afraid of that. But it’s why I’m here.” You feel drunk, the words just tumbling out of you but you don’t care anymore. He is so close to kissing you that you can nearly taste him but instead he pulls away with a wry smile.

“Your glass is empty.” Terzo snickers and then jumps up in a way that can only be described as cat-like, snatching the glass from your hands. You’re left hot and bothered as he turns his back to you to saunter over to the bar. Alone with your thoughts while you watch him pour you another generous whiskey. Oh no. Oh no. You can still taste it on your tongue and it is not for you. But when he turns around with the warmth and charm you’ve been wanting all doubts are gone. You’re going to be messy tonight and that’s just that. When he turns back to face you he’s at least given you half of what he did the first time, walking slowly over to where you’re sitting on the couch.

He looms over you as your eyes drift up to meet his gaze and he audibly growls. You suck in a sharp breath, your nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. Terzo lifts a hand up and brushes his thumb along your jaw before tilting your chin up. He brings the glass to your lips and tips it back. You part your lips, the whiskey burning as it spills down your throat. He continues to pour until you can’t keep up with it and it leaks out of your mouth and down your cheeks. You gasp and he flings the glass down onto the side table as he crushes his mouth against yours, unable to keep away from you any longer.

And you certainly don’t care that he all but purrs into your mouth, soft lips moving against yours. He cups your face with his gloved hands, leather thumbs caressing your cheekbones as he slips onto the couch beside you without breaking the kiss. Fingers curl around his wrist and you press in close to him, losing yourself in how he tastes. His velvety tongue probes your mouth as the kiss grows in intensity. Deep pants try to keep your feet on the ground but you’re off in space, exhaustion and comfort mixing in a way that has you floating. Terzo pulls away from the kiss and you can hardly open your eyes. He gently guides your head to his chest, stroking his fingers through your hair.

“You never called me a driver did you?”

“Oh no. Never considered it.” Terzo squeezes you in his arms.

Oh, he’s so warm. A rumbling groan falls from your lips as his wraps his arms around you, just holding you there. Your limbs relax and you sink deeper into his chest as he starts to rubs up and down your back. In that moment you know you’re a goner. A deep, sleepy sigh falls from your lips and in a matter of minutes you are out cold.

Terzo almost feels guilty for being such an ass. Almost. He feels for you, he can relate to realizing that something isn’t all it was cracked out to be. At least for you it was a childhood crush and not being raised for one person. But still, he was a tad mean wasn’t he? It was necessary and the tension… the tension had been so delicious. Watching you squirm under his intense stare. And you just did what he said, unquestioningly, even when had you drink and drink and drink. Adrenaline is pumping through him and he struggles to contain himself— he must not go any further, despite how tempted he is. He could get away with it. You’re so soft, so pliable and so wanting. Terzo can feel the heat radiating off of you, no doubt from the alcohol and your closeness. He could slip his hand between your thighs and give you exactly what you want.

But it wouldn’t be fair to you. Terzo wants you coherent and focused when he takes you. Plus you’re adorably snuggled against him right now, your soft breaths against his chest. He’s longed for this and you did not disappoint. Wait a minute. Are you sleeping? He is about to fall apart, his arms wrapping so much tighter around you. The urge to keep you safe, to keep you here and never let you leave overcomes him*.* He squeezes your hand that is clutched to his chest and then gingerly picks it up and places it back in your lap.

“Sleepy?”

You lift your heavy head to look at him and good god do you want to be asleep right now. A tender smiles breaks out across his face as he swipes some of your hair from your eyes. A stark contrast from how close he had just been to strangling you.

“Take the guest room tonight, puffetta. I will bring you some clothes.” Terzo pulls himself to his feet. “Meet you up there.” He’s so soft, so different than how torturous he was of you earlier. You’re sure he’s heard what he’s wanted to hear from you but he’s unpredictable. Something you liked about him. There’s an unknown darkness that lies beneath his charm and good looks and it calls out to you. You’ve never felt this way about anyone. How could you ever get away now?

You blink and realize that you’re alone. You’ve been alone. Oh shit. Scrambling off of the couch, you trip over your own feet with the effects of the whiskey hitting you hard.

Ah, the guest room. A cramped space with antique furniture that could use some time and attention. The overall theme of the room is… dust. You’ve brought up having the dresser refinished or even repainted and replacing the peeling wallpaper but it’s low on the list of priorities. You push the door shut and give a soft sigh of relief. Shoes come off. A lamp on the bedside table barely illuminates the room and a folded pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt are waiting for you on the bed. Eyes scan over the remainder of the comforter and pillows, wondering if anyone had ever slept here. You can’t help the feeling that you’re being watched but maybe the fact that you’re about to wear your boss’ clothes isn’t meshing well with the practically decaying room.

“Whatever.” You huff to yourself and undress with the grace of a toddler, kicking your pants off and throwing your removed clothes into a pile on the ground. Sitting down on the bed, you pull up the sweatpants and they are loose as they settle around your waist. The shirt slips over your head and swallows up your upper body. Did he purposely give you his largest clothing to make you feel small? It is so cozy, though. You wrap your arms around your body and flop back onto the bed, sinking into the softness of the blankets. Comfortable heat spreads across your skin from buzz of the alcohol. Limbs go limp and your eyelids grow heavy, a deep sigh falling from your lips. Fading fast.

The piercing ring of the rotary phone cracks through the air and you jolt upright and wide awake. What the? You don’t remember seeing it when you came in and it’s not like it blends in — it’s bright red with intricate black etchings along the base and the handle of the receiver. Not a speck of dust on it. The phone rings again, somehow louder and more harmful to your ears than before. You blink and suddenly you’re standing directly in front of the dresser with one hand curled around the receiver. Heart is pounding in your chest and ears. Something is calling out to you. Answer it. Answer it. Answerit. answeritansweritansweritanswerit.

You pick up the phone to silence. Then chittering. The receiver is hot on your cheek. Something pricks your ear but you can’t pull away. There’s a squelch. A screech. More screaming. It only gets louder and louder, needles in your ears, pain shooting through your brain. You can’t breathe. You twirl the phone cord around your fingers and shuffle your bare feet against the cold floor, the only thing you’re able to get your body to do other than press the phone so hard against your head. The closer you listen to the screams the more familiar they get, growing in intensity, pain and volume. Burning, the receiver is burning now and yet you can’t move, you can’t get any relief. The phone cord is nearly completely tangled around your wrist and you’re sweating, gasping for breath, and crying without even realizing it. The screams finally subside, replaced by a cold, dead silence.

You hang up the phone.

Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washes over you and you collapse onto the bed. The world spins as you sink into the soft mattress, the dial tone still echoing in your ears.

[crazyforclones]

I am so ill over Mario and Peach

Continue reading to listen to me absolutely lose my mind over these goobers

Establishing character:

I just adore Mario and Peach so much. And before I get those funny people always like “oh Mario hates peach,” or “peach never “gives” Mario anything for saving her! He probably only does it to get something from her-“ Ima need yall to shut your trap ok 👹

First of all, Nintendo, especially with Mario characters, had no idea how to characterize their characters in the beginning. Peach changes in almost every single different medium. Take the old Nintendo power (I think) comic called the “super Mario adventures.” in which Peach is a lot more outgoing, strong, sassy, and a literal general.

Not saying this is a bad rendition of peach I actually like it! But I use it as an example of how these characters have changed over the years. And also, often times in games or stories like these where they focus more on the characters than gameplay, we see a more accurate and fleshed out character. Which is why in some other Mario games, characters often say things that might seem rude or out of character but is put there for comedy. (Nintendo obsession with making fun of Luigi in every rpg game is an example 💀). And the same goes for Mario, he’s changed a lot. But I feel in the current renditions of the characters, they have a much more stable idea of their character.

Also another cute picture from the comic-(sorry quality poopy I took it from mine)

This is peach dreaming about marrying Mario btw.

Mario’s character:

From what we see now, Mario is just an average blue collar man in his late twenty’s who is quite short and also plump. Despite this he is still THE most brave, athletic, talented, determined, occasionally hot headed, and an overall idol to the entire mushroom kingdom. He is often labeled as THE Mario. And people also express their surprised when they actually see what he looks like 💀. But the reason I bring this up is Mario is quite literally just some guy. He’s some guy who entered this foreign kingdom, heard there was a Princess in trouble, and as a New York Italien blue collar worker he could’ve easily just went on with his day or ignored these random peoples pleas, but instead, he immediately decides he will travel multiple worlds so he can save this princess and help the kingdom (also cause the game needed a incentive but still-). From the get go mario was ready to help people. He helps them not expecting anything in return, but because he has a good sense of Justice. There’s hundreds of side quests you can do with Mario, sometimes they’re ridiculous. But you know what? Mario will do it. Because he likes helping people. Because he’s a role model. And because he’s just a good guy.

Mario and Peach as a couple:

Most of the time, people who criticize or make fun of their relationship are often doing it as a joke which is fine, but this is for the people who genuinely think Peach is a jerk for not giving Mario “more” for what he does.

People often say “Mario has saved her so many times and all he gets is a kiss on the cheek!”

Now despite the fact Peach doesn’t owe Mario anything just because he saved her, I can see why people might be upset over this. However, like I said before, Mario does things not expecting rewards, but just because it’s the right thing to do and he has a duty.

People forget one dire things when it comes to love like this:

Love can be shown in many different ways

Peach kissing Mario in the cheek wasn’t proof that they were in love or together. I’d argue they weren’t really at all in the beginning. Except maybe a slight crush. A kiss on the cheek is often just a gesture of gratitude. Peach usually kissed anyone who saved her. It’s just her way of saying thank you.

What really shows that Mario and peach love one another is how they interact. The things they say and do. They don’t need to kiss to prove they’re in love, it’s simply implied with how they interact with one another. Whether it’s small gestures like holding one’s hand before a big game, or something such as trusting the other person to give you a boost so you can save your partners rabbid version of themselves from an evil space fish.

Or! It can be something more direct, like peach literally looking Mario in the eyes and saying this:

Or when she is scared but assured herself she will be ok as long as she has Mario!

It’s these little things that speak larger than words. Mario and peach simply have a relationship that is there but doesn’t need to be forced down your throats to convince you that they’re in love. They simply are. And their love is shown in many ways. Love comes in all shapes and sizes, and so does Mario and Peach!

Now have Mario dancing like a middle aged dad snapping his little fingers to make Peach laugh :)

[silent-sanctum]

Your last fics tearing my hearts apart😭😭Anyways may I request jotaro kujo with a pregnant s/o? He probably would be defensive like that time when Holly got the fever

Ah yes! We have another 2-for-1 special! But let's make it a list of headcanons to switch things up 😉This one's for @lolsandlmaos and anon, and let me just say, yes; I love writing wholesome dadtaro content and I'm glad the audience likes some wholesome dadtaro content too. So, hope you enjoy! ♡

Before I start, can we all just silently agree that Jotaro really just wanted a family of his own canonically?

Think about it, we know he isn't the type to sleep around at random. What if the man wanted what his grandparents had and live a life without the Stand bs? The fact he found somebody and had a kid with her tells us that he tried to make it work, but we know that it didn't as we see in the series.

"I've always cherished you"

He wanted that life. He wanted to be a good father to his daughter. But he couldn't because of the family curse.

Anyways! Let's forget the canon for a moment and delve into some wholesome headcanons!

When he first heard the news, he was pleasantly surprised that he couldn't speak for a solid minute. He simply stared at you with wide eyes and stunned silence.

Later that day, the man is glued to your side holding you in his arms and he's uncharacteristically showing affection: He's nuzzling your neck, planting kisses wherever he could, gently swaying you back and forth, and most importantly, he's often caressing your flat tummy.

Now that's done with, Jotaro's already gone into Papa Wolf mode as early as the first weeks

He knows he isn't the sunny Golden Retriever type of guy like his grandfather or great-grandfather, so he isn't naturally attuned to being a first-time dad. Lowkey, he's anxious he might end up as a shitty husband in the process.

But what he does know is that he loves to research, is adaptable, and is a quick learner

He begins to visit the nearby library and study "maternal and child care". Then proceeds to go over what to do for each trimester, he studies proper diet and eating patterns for pregnant partners, and studiously digests a whole book's worth of "How to be a Good Father".

Being in this mode also means he naturally becomes protective of you. He makes sure that he has time for you and your needs. Want to go anywhere out of the house? He'll be accompanying you there. No doubt.

If anyone even remotely makes a rude remark about you, Star Platinum has already punched their teeth out.

If you thought Jotaro couldn't cook, then think again because when his partner is pregnant, you bet your ass that he'll learn how to cook faster than you expected him to.

At first, he's still working on the basics like knowing what ingredients and kitchen paraphernalia should be used. He has a recipe book or two propped up for him to skim over and study. He even calls Holly for cooking tutorials when he feels like he's hit a learning slump. His mother has already booked a ticket to your place and immediately teaches her son numerous cooking lessons

Weeks later, you're surprised that Jotaro has become a natural in the kitchen, being able to dish out your favorites with seemingly no issue. It turns out that while Jotaro did most of the work, he had Star assist him with the "finer" stuff (i.e. measurements, cutting, etc.)

Suffice it to say, he takes pride in himself that he can now make you smile with his newfound talent.

Then there are the cravings. Of course, when you ask him to buy the most random food combinations, Jotaro would simply say "okay" and buy them anyway, as long as the food choices weren't harmful to you and the baby. He'd also give you food even if you asked him in the ass crack of morning.

Anything to make you happy after all

When it comes to building the nursery, Jotaro leaves you to do the interior designing and aesthetic choices since he's shit at that. But when the furniture arrives in their boxes, then it's time for him to step in and does all the arranging, moving, and assembling for you. Have a planned layout? He'll follow them. Want the walls painted a certain color? No problem.

After you planned everything out and he finished his tasks, the nursery ended up being marine-themed with all the pastel blues and aquatic decor like sea animal plushies, a shell lamp, glow-in-the-dark fish wall stickers, and more bringing life to the place.

Remember when I said he'd do work, yeah he'll do the work. House husband style. He'll do the chores and let you rest, grumpily insisting you sit and relax when you try to convince him that you can do the lighter tasks.

From time to time, when both of you aren't doing anything, Jotaro would occasionally turn to your round stomach and reach forward to caress it, blushing as he does so.

Then a kick happens and the man's fully attuned to you in awe. On the outside, he's still a calm dude but deep down, he's so excited that the baby responded to his touch. You ended up scooting closer to him, seeking cuddles while he reciprocates as he still continues to stroke your tummy.

Jotaro, at this point in his life, has the patience of a monk towards his loved ones, so when the mommy mood swings kick in, he is more than ready to adapt to your every emotional breakdown even if he's just going to be there to either take it, calm you, or comfort you in silence

That also includes the part where you become horny. Of course, he'll be gentler with you during this time of your pregnancy, but he can't help but include a few rough bucks of his hip when he's about to go off the edge.

Other times, just touching you can help ease that heightened libido

He'll immediately drive you to the hospital once your water breaks. He'll wait with you throughout labor, hoping his soft caresses are enough to make up for his lack of comforting words. At times, Star will come out to help him distract you from the contractions.

He'd pace around outside the delivery room, anxious with his mind already overthinking what bad could happen to you and the baby. It's a good thing Holly is there to help reassure her son that his wife and child would be okay.

When Jotaro finally gets to visit, his eyes land on the swaddled little one in her tiny crib stationed beside your bed. He beelines straight to it and pauses in complete awe at the tiny baby cooing before him.

You can't help but giggle as your husband's eyes start to water as he gingerly reaches down to pick up his newborn daughter. He's still in awe, completely fixated on baby Jolyne.

Then after he sits down on the chair by your bedside, he brings his index to touch her and his heart skips a beat when the baby grasps it with her whole hand.

And the waterworks are broken and he ends up leaning against your side while you nuzzle against him as he tries to regain composure from tearing up so much from seeing and feeling his bundle of joy.

Admittedly, Jotaro is scared about whether he'd do a good job being a father, but to both you and himself, he promises that he'll do his damn best.

[b3ach-bunn7]

Saw your request for story ideas!

Jason with a fibromyalgic reader. He really never has to fear them they will never have the strength to over power him. Only if you want to and are comfortable

(Pinky promise this is sent in by a fibromyalgic)

Hey, I really hope I wrote this as you hoped for! I tried my best to read up on the condition before, and I hope I did you justice!

DEPOLLUTE ME

You’re weaker than Jason, but it just makes him love you even more

—————————————————————————-

Jason Todd is a man of principles. Doing what he does, a vigilante, he has to be. Dick had told him when he'd emerged as Redhood, that it didn’t work to do what you want. That, despite what he’d like to believe, Jason was privileged to have the strength and talent that he did, and it was people like them who abused it, that were the reason they were doing this in the first place.

Whatever. Dick always wants to be the smartest guy in the room, Jason thinks. These principles, though, are why he was so scared of you at first. Maybe not of you, but to be with you.

Because the problem with you is that he’s completely not scared of you. And it's all because of your condition, which makes him feel even shittier than he already does about jt.

Fibromyalgia. That’s what it’s called, the condition he’d stayed up two nights in a row reading all he could about. Books and NHS information pages. Anything to learn everything about you. You’d told him about it on your fifth date, the one he’d planned to ask you to be his girlfriend. A chronic illness, that caused pain, fatigue, headaches.

“I just- It doesn’t hinder me much. I just need you to know before this gets serious. That you’ll probably be looking after me more than the average girlfriend.” You’d said, eyes cast down to the half eaten food on your plate.

“That doesn’t bother me. It- I’ve got some mobility issues too, in my arm. Got shot once.” Jason winces at the repsponse he’d given you. Like the two were even remotely similar.

You’d smiled slightly. “It’s a little worse than that. It’s a chronic illness. It’s sort of like.. constant pain in my body? Makes my muscles stiffer, amongst other things. And it makes me sort of.. weaker, I guess. Physically.”

The two of you had talked about it for a while, before you’d changed the subject. He’d asked you to be his girlfriend still, under the porch light at your doorway, and you said yes.

It’s why he’s in your apartment right now. You’d given him a key (despite him being perfectly capable of using the window) and never seem phased in the slightest when he’s sprawled on your couch reading when you’re not there. He loves those things the most about his relationship with you. You’d carved a place for him in your life and it felt so effortless. Like you didn’t even need to think about making an extra portion at dinner or leaving a change of clothes out even after you fall asleep, because you know he always finishes his work late.

Weaker. That’s the word you used to describe yourself. And in a way, Jason loves it.

It’s only something he’d admit to you, or maybe months into forced therapy sessions, but Jason Todd is scared. He’s scared of a lot of things, contrary to what he lets other people see. He’s scared he’ll lose the handful of people he’s come to love. He’s scared that one day he’ll fight another fight he won’t win. He’s scared that one day he might wake up and he’s back there, Arkham Asylum, with that sorry excuse of a human being with him. But worst of all, he’s scared of people. Not an overwhelming fear, nothing he can’t fight through in an instance, but. He just never knows who he can trust. Who he can be vulnerable around.

And Jason isn’t weak by any means. Not that he likes to brag, but most of his body mass is muscle, ones you’ve seen, abs you’d run your hands across under his bedsheets. He can defend himself, he knows he can. He just doesn’t want to have that fear looming over his head all the time. Because it can happen. It happened once.

It had already taken so long for him to even let you in. And it was so easy. You were so perfect. So pretty, so sweet. Jason was half sure you were lying about your condition, because there was no way somebody in constant pain, 24/7, was so kind. So nice. Had patience for how long it took him to warm up to you, to let you touch him without him breaking your hands.

It was like a miracle. One he was so cruelly happy for. It was like somebody had taken all the fears he had in every relationship and eradicated them. There was no world where you could hurt him like so many others had done before. You were incapable of it. He could let his guard down completely and he’d be fine.

And he felt guilty for it at first. Of course he did. Like he was benefiting from something that caused you pain. He’d told you, but like with everything, you were perfect. You’d only laughed,

“It’s okay.” You’d snorted, amused at his apologetic face. It had been uttered in the dark of your bedroom, his arms wrapped around your waist, your back pressed into his chest.

“I don’t really mind.” You fiddled absentmindedly with his fingers, traced the calluses on his palms. “Kinda like it, actually. Most people use it as an excuse to like me less. You’re doing the opposite.”

So he doesn’t feel guilty anymore. Maybe slightly, but that little smile you give him, he hates to say it melts him enough that he doesn’t care.

The sound of the door creaking open drags his attention away from his thoughts. He looks up and there you are. Bundled in a scarf and gloves and a hat. You told him that the cold sometimes made it worse, and the winter weather was cruel. Your eyes light up when you see him sitting on the couch. You bound over, throwing the discarded book on his lap away, and sitting down.

“Hey.” You grin.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You lay down next to him and Jason moves, let you settle slowly down next to him, a hand carding through your hair. You ramble about your day and he listens.

[cherry-smokes]

Sugar Me

AKA the time you meet Steve at one of your gigs loosely based on Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader best friend!Eddie x bassist!reader Word count: 3k Note: reader goes by Sugar and uses she/her pronouns Warning: Sugar is a flirt:)

Sometimes you think you would be the most miserable person on earth had you not been in your 20’s in the 80’s. Rock and roll is alive and well and as Eddie likes to scream when he’s four beers in, it will never die!

Meeting him was one of the greatest gifts you were granted. Despite what the rest of Hawkins thinks, he’s the greatest guy you know. The rock scene was supposed to be all about going against the grain. Expressing yourself and indulging in things most people are too scared to indulge in because of what others might think. Despite this, it’s still infested with misogyny. Especially in a place like Hawkins.

Getting people to take any of your interests seriously as a woman is damn near impossible. Not with Eddie though. When he asked you to join Corroded Coffin you didn’t think twice. Eddie trusted you. He appreciated your talent and you knew going into it that you wouldn’t just be eye candy to draw in a crowd as the only chick in the band. To Eddie, how you dressed or how you presented yourself on or off stage didn't mean anything. As soon as you got that Bass in your hands, that's all that mattered to him.

Before you met him, finding your place in Hawkins had been frustrating. You'd tried other bands but they just never worked out. When guys in bands are raunchy and bold they're praised. For them it's a badge of honor. God forbid a woman dresses in the same skin-tight clothes and flirts, now that would just be down right slutty right?

Thankfully for you, the guys in the band don't share this sentiment. However they do have their moments. They're just guys after all.

When Eddie mentioned he’d invited his friends to your gig tonight you were a bit surprised. You’ve never been one to judge a book by its cover, but from your brief knowledge of Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington the last place you expected him to want to be on a Friday night is a dive bar at the edge of town.

You’ve heard Eddie’s Hail Mary about how-

“He’s a changed man Sugar, swear it!”

You believe him, really! If Eddie told you the sky was red you’d believe him too. Despite whatever bulletin board conspiracy your band mates have drawn up you aren’t fucking Eddie. He’s your best friend, frankly you’re still waiting for the day people can comprehend that a guy and a girl can be friends without secretly wanting to make out and elope in Vegas.

Steve Harrington however, was not a man you could be ‘just friends’ with.

The second he walks into the bar trailing behind a girl with mousy blonde hair and a chic vest you pause mid sip, beer instantly forgotten. No one is allowed to look that good in a Polo. Don’t even mention the hair-the hair! It’s a waste he isn’t in a glam rock band, blasphemous even.

He looks out of place in the bar. He shakes all the guy’s hands following it with a pat on the arm similar to how a Wall Street guy would greet his coworkers.

“Stevie, Buckley. This is the one and only Sugar!”

He introduces you in that tone he tends to use during a campaign. You lean across the table as Robin sits down to shake her hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Eddie never shuts up about you.”

“How could he?”

You tease as you scooch your chair to make space for Steve to drag one over to your table. He sits down, holding his hand out to shake yours “Nice to meet you I’m St-“

“Stevie right?”

You cut him off with a firm hand shake and a curl of your red lips. Similar to his cheeks as he nods in agreement.

This is just going to be so fun. You've heard rumors about how much of a playboy he was back in high school. However, considering that he spends most of his time babysitting kids and according to Eddie ‘striking out’ you have a feeling that isn’t the case anymore.

You can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger over the lipstick stain on your cup, or the way your leopard print pants stretch over your thighs.

“This your first show?”

He looks back at you, wiping his palms down his jeans. He looks all American. Like he came straight out of a Bruce Springsteen song.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Well, I’ll make sure it’s extra special for you tonight.”

“You’ve only known the guy two seconds why are you giving him special treatment Sugar, I thought I was your main man?”

Eddie says this as he kicks your leg underneath the table.

“When you look like that you get special treatment, I don’t make the rules.”

You take a sip of your beer, glancing at Steve over the glass.

“Alright Casanova finish your beer we gotta get up there soon.”

You raise one arm in surrender as you chug what’s left and go to stand up. Making sure to lightly drag your arm behind Steve’s chair as you start walking to the stage. You turn to Robin before leaving, “killer vest by the way.”

You know Eddie is just teasing. This is just who you are, and you really get a kick out of seeing how many buttons you can push. How pretty and pink you can make a guy. According to the flush that spread over Steve's face, pretty damn pink.

It's just fun. You get the feeling Steve tends to go more for the 'girl next door' type and you've never been one to get your hopes up. Hawkins hasn't necessarily been kind to people like you. Guy's were never really that into you in your early teens. When they were, it was because they assumed you were an easy lay. You can imagine their disappointment when your idea of a perfect first date wasn't hooking up in the back of their dad's cars or under the bleachers.

It's fine though. Guys are much more fun when you can flirt them up at the bar and never see them again. It keeps your schedule free for rehearsals anyways.

You find yourself lost in this thought as you set up on stage. Glancing over at the bar you see Steve and Robin bickering quietly. He holds a beer out of her reach as she yanks at his hair before snatching it out of his hands. You can't help but see a resemblance between them and you and Eddie.

As if he knows what you're thinking he comes up behind you, guitar in hand as poke's at your side.

"Ready to rock and roll?"

"You sound like a dad when you say that."

"I thought you liked that kind of thing?"

You shove him harshly but can't help the laugh that comes out of you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Steve swears this is heaven.

Yeah it’s hot in the bar, and it reeks of beer and sweat and he’s being jostled around like a punching bag but god it’s worth it when he sees you on stage.

Baby hairs stick to your forehead, sweaty and glistening. Your black top clings to your body and he feels like an asshole for staring at your legs in those pants. The real kicker is your hands. The way you pluck at the base effortlessly as if they’re gliding on air.

He flinches as the band finishes up the song and Robin hollers right beside him.

“They’re good! Not that I didn’t think they’d be good, I totally believed Eddie when he said they were but they’re like-actually good!”

Steve holds back a chuckle, Robin is a light weight but he’s glad she’s a happy drunk.

“Yeah, they’re killer.”

Eddie speaks up breathlessly from stage.

“Alright everyone, for our last song of the night let me draw your attention to our very own Sugar for a very special cover.”

He dramatically gestures over to you and bows down as you step up to your own mic, which you’ve been neglecting for most of the night.

The crowd hollers for a moment before cooling down. It’s hypnotic, the way you command a room just with your presence. As if you could make everyone buckle at their knees with just a breath.

“Step inside

Walk this way

You and me babe

Hey hey!”

The crowd roars at the familiar favorite. Steve’s never been one for rock music, but he can’t help but bob his head to the beat alongside Robin. He thinks he’d listen to every goddamn song ever created if it was coming out of your mouth.

You pull your hair back in your hands as you tap your leg rhythmically, seductively eying the crowd. Your bass hangs low by your waist and sways slightly. It’s obscene, everything is obscene when you look like that.

“I'm hot, sticky sweet

From my head to my feet, yeah”

It’s like you know what you’re doing. There’s a confidence that spills from you and he’s down like a dog. He feels like you could stomp his heart out with your black boots and he’d polish the blood off them with the shirt off his back afterwards.

Fuck he’s pathetic.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The feeling right after finishing a set is always the best. You're all giddy, high off the adrenaline and slightly cocky. You could perform in front of just three people and you would all still feel like hot shit.

"That was awesome!"

Robin breaks through the crowd with Steve trailing behind her, promptly apologizing to the men she's shoving aside. The way she walks through the larger and gruff looking men as if it doesn't phase her amuses you. From what you've heard about Robin through Eddie, you've grown to admire her from afar. While you've always been too shy to admit it, you've been dying to meet her. You love your guys but you often find yourself desperately yearning for someone who you could connect with on a deeper level. You've known Robin to be deeply feminist. You've read some of the Zine's she makes alongside Nancy Wheeler, fighting against the patriarchy and the typical conservative views in Hawkins. You're aching to collaborate with them on one.

Which is why you immediately agree to her request to buy you a beer.

As she drags you over to the bar, Steve stays back with the group. Shooting a longing glance at you as you walk away as if he had something he wanted to say to you.

"Harrington strikes out once again."

Steve's head whips towards Eddie.

He starts fumbling over his words immediately. He knows from past conversations that you and Eddie have only ever been just friends. He has also, much to his dismay at first, grown to care for Eddie and their friendship. He wouldn't want to cross a line in trying to get to know you in a more than friendly way.

"I'm not striking out-I'm not even in the game."

The guys all burst out in boyish laughter, making Steve roll his eyes.

"Dude. You were practically drooling the entire set."

Gareth says this before mimicking Steves' starstruck face he saw in the crowd.

"It was hot in there!"

"Oh yeah, I bet it was."

Jeff and Gareth leave to get beers of their own which leaves Eddie and Steve.

After a moment Steve speaks up.

"Look man, I'm not going to try anything I know you guys are close I don't want-"

Eddie cuts him off.

"Steve. You gotta know that doesn't bug me right? If you decide you want to actually get in the game I won't stop you."

He leans in close, and in his most theatrical voice whispers "but know this, it isn't a game for the weak."

He loudly slaps his hands on Steve's shoulders before hollering over his shoulder.

"Buckley! How about a game of pool?"

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Your head whips over to find Eddie ready to drag Robin away for a game of pool. You would be disappointed, but you've already made plans with Robin to hang out sometime this week, and Steve is already walking over to you.

"Hey stranger, can I buy you a drink?"

He chuckles softly as he sits on the stool that used to belong to Robin. Who is loudly arguing over the rules with Eddie behind him.

"I'm pretty sure its supposed to be the other way around."

"Say's who?"

You both look at each other then. For the first time tonight you're able to really take him in. He has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen. Light brown, the way the lights in the bar reflect in them makes it seem like there's specs of gold in them. More than anything though, they look kind. It stirs something up within you. A feeling you so often try to push down. Then he smiles at you and you have to look away before you let the feeling come up any further.

You wave the bartender down and order a beer for Steve. Who nods in thanks before facing his body towards you.

"You were pretty amazing up there."

"I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"Is that why they call you Sugar?"

You furrow your brows at him, not exactly sure what he means.

"The song?"

You go slightly red, embarrassed that you didn't catch onto what he meant. You feel silly. Guy's don't usually make you feel this way. They don't make your mind fog up. You feel tense, like you're hyper aware of how you're sitting and breathing and wondering if he can tell how fast your heart is beating.

"Oh! Right the song!"

He laughs at your response finding it endearing. He sees a slight crack in the persona you've put up all night. He wants to break it open and get to know who you are when you aren't on stage. He wants to know what kind of person you are alone, when everyone has gone and you're unwinding for the night.

"No the song worked its way into the set list later on but Eddie started calling me Sugar because he thinks it's ironic."

"Why would it be ironic?"

You laugh at this before you catch the look on his face and realize he's being serious.

"Well...I've been known to be a bit...blunt I guess."

He nods in understanding. He thinks this is his shot. If he can prove to you now that he's a worthy competitor in whatever game Eddie was talking about he might have a chance.

He gets the sense that you won't just agree to going out with him. He knows his reputation, knows the kind of person he was before. He thinks about it for a moment and wonders if he should dust off his old tactics but, that just doesn't feel right. He figures he should just be honest. Even if it makes him seem like a total dork in front of you.

"I thought they called you Sugar 'cause you're sweet."

He mumbles this and hides behind his beer as he takes a sip. You still heard him though. His compliment is corny, it resembles that of a dad joke and if he didn't seem so earnest about it you would have rolled your eyes.

But he's blushing and his eyes keep bouncing to your face to see your reaction and you can't help but send him a sweet smile. Not a flirty one, or a teasing one. A genuine smile that means he said something right.

"You think I'm sweet?"

You're indulging yourself. You've been called hot before. Sexy, confident. These compliments are nice sure, but nothing compares to the feeling of someone complimenting the way you are.

"Yeah, I mean Eddie talks about you all the time. Even from what I saw tonight, you just...you seem like a really warm person."

He can't remember the last time he was so nervous. He's sure he sounds like an idiot.

One look at your face and he stops worrying about all of it. He wishes he could have met you sooner. He thinks he could have avoided becoming such an asshole had you been around to not make him feel like an idiot for being so soft.

"Well aren't you a sweetheart Stevie."

He lets out a relieved breath, it sounds like a laugh.

"I don't know about that."

"Don't be so humble, I doubt I'm the first girl to tell you that."

"I hope you're the first girl who means it"

You realize now exactly what Eddie meant when he said Steve was a changed man. You've trained yourself to see men as one thing. Someone who doesn’t listen, doesn’t care, and doesn't feel anything other than lust and pride. When Steve says this, you realize he isn't the same guy he used to be. He's someone, who like you, wants to be seen.

God do you see him.

"If Eddie talks about me as much as you say he does, you should know I never lie."

"I'll take your word for it."

He lifts his cup to yours. You clink them together before taking a sip. Behind him, Robin gives out a triumphant yell as she scores a point.

"Do you wanna go watch them play?"

You don't want to, but you ask anyway. There is something at the back of your head telling you to look for an out. To walk away before you're in too deep.

Steve doesn't even glance behind him as he places his drink down and makes himself comfortable.

"I doubt I'm missing much."

You smile at him once more.

Later, when you're all leaving the bar. Steve, who barely nursed his one beer walks Robin to his car and glances over at you as you load your equipment into the back of Eddie's van.

Robin waves hastily at you "See you soon!"

You laugh and wave back before hopping into the passenger seat.

When you're all settled in Eddie speaks up.

"Sugar and Stevie sitting in a tree..."

"Shut up."

As he drives you home, you can't help but think that you wouldn't mind k-i-s-s-i-n-g in a tree with the sweet boy.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────

a/n: this was so much fun to write! If anyone would want to read more about Sugar and Steve let me know, I would love to make this an on-going series if y'all are interested:)

(also! all of the images used here are from Pinterest!)

[mirensiart]

Hey Miry what are some fun (or maybe angsty) headcanons you have for the boys, including Chain?

Hmmmm 🤔 ok let me think

Sky: I know most people headcanon Warriors as the field medic, but I feel Sky is also versed in first aids and is really good at it, he has excellent bedside manner. Like the knight academy probably taught him all about it, so the 3 medics of the gang are warriors, hyrule and him. I also believe he has an impeccable stitch technique, like barely leaves scars at all. Really dexterous with his hands too, thanks to his wood crafting and harp playing, he's really good with them hands lmao.

Four: he's a blacksmith sure, and knows a lot about making weapons and maintaining them, but I like to believe he's also really good and making stuff out of leather. Like he knows how to make leather belts and pouches for the weapons his grandpa makes or leather clothes as protection in battle. Idk just a very crafty little guy that offers the entire deal aka a weapon and the leather belts to carry it, all in one service hehe

Time: I like to believe he lost his eye in a very mundane non heroic way, like maybe he fell off a rowdy horse and landed in the worst way possible or a farm centric accident. He makes up different stories about how he lost it, every time someone asks, he changes it, some stories are batshit insane and some others are super normal. He actually has told the real way he lost the eye in between the fake stories, but no one believes him. He thinks it's hilarious btw.

Twilight: I've mentioned before that I headcanon him to be a very sensitive guy, like small things can make him tear up aka a baby animal absolutely makes him want to start sobbing lmao. I like to believe he gossips and talks a lot with his epona as wolfie, like when you're in wolf form in twilight princess you can talk to animals and epona is so sweet with him when you talk to her, they are soulmates man. The guys do something dumb and he turns into wolfie just to walk to epona like "can u believe those guys??" Epona knows everything tbh like he tells her everything, she's the only one who truly knows his woes over losing midna.

Wind: I love to believe the little guy can legit control the winds, like the wind waker is a way for him to channel his magic, but he can control the wind unconsciously, too. When he gets really mad, the winds pick up speeds around him, or if he's happy, a gentle breeze circles around him, etc. His hair is always blowing in the breeze even when he's inside doors, and there's no wind. It just does that.

Legend: Excellent gardener, has a talent for growing plants, flowers, and trees. They flourish under his care. Extremely particular about soil and water and shadow/light for his plants, he not only has an apple orchard, but also grows veggies and rare flowers. Ravio maintains his garden under extreme rules and guidelines lmao ravio is not allowed to sell the apples or veggies from legend's garden, but legend encourages rav to use them for cooking instead.

Hyrule: disney princess aka animals love him lmao typical guy who befriends every single creature he meets, he could pacify a bear if he wants to. His fae part is what makes him have such an affinity with nature in general, I see him as the elves from LOTR who can feel and communicate with trees and they guide him. It's why he never uses maps, he doesn't need them.

Wild: using LOTR as my base for headcanons again lol but I see him like aragorn in the sense that aragorn is a human who was raised by elves so he feels a strong connection to elf culture because of it. I picture wild to be the same, but with the zoras, since he was childhood friends with mipha, we can imply he spent A LOT of time in zora's domain as a child. He is way more versed in zora customs, language, holidays, etc, than the hylian ones. It's also why I feel the older zora are so pissed off with him in botw, like they saw him as one of their own for so long, utter betrayal that he didn't protect their princess (mipha) and failed them all lol he has some zora mannerism in the sense that sometimes, he eats fish raw LMAO when he absentmindedly ate one in front of everyone the first time everyone was shocked for a while lmao

Warriors: absolute nervous wreck, always riddled with anxiety, really low self-esteem, is probably screaming 24/7 inside his head at all times, but is EXCEPTIONAL at faking it, like fake it til you make it is his way of life lmao he exudes over confidence and is always worried about his looks as a way to hide how much of a mess he truly is. Time & Wind has seen him at his worst and know that he's a great actor, which helps him cause he can stop pretending around them for a while

And now my link lmao

Chain: All bark, no bite. He is ironic and sarcastic and shows himself as a tough guy, but he's actually a sweetheart, and things get to him pretty easily. He learned pretty early on than carrying his heart on his sleeve is a really bad idea around the Bounty Hunter guild, since soft nice guys don't last long, so he replies to hurtful comments with sarcasm and a tough attitude, when in reality he's really hurt lmao he also jokes to cope, he'd rather throw a joke or two at you than really open up and talk about his feelings.