#thank you again o/

[wayward-travelers]

Inge Sjasaris

B A S I C S

Name: Inge Sjasaris (pre-EW), Inge Grymkoelwyn (post-EW)

Nicknames: none

Age: In her sixties

Nameday: 5th Sun of the 2nd Umbral Moon

Race: Viera

Gender: Loaded question given that I've never bothered posting about her tribe, but long story short: she's fine with being called a woman. In our modern western ways, she'd be more akin to genderqueer. In her people's way, it's hard to translate so she never bothers. Honestly any pronoun is technically fine by her, it'll never be completely right anyway.

Orientation: Whatever, but more female leaning overall.

Profession: Mercenary, alchemist

P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C  T S

Hair: I've yet to find a satisfying mod for what I have in mind but curly and mid-long, black, badly cut 'cause she tends to do it herself whenever the length annoys her too much. Rarely tied though, she doesn't like the feeling (hence the terrible haircuts)

Eyes: Grey

Skin: Dark brown, with some freckles

Tattoos/scars: A tattoo left by Louisoix's spell between her shoulder blades. Many scars scattered on her body, most faded though and none too remarkable.

F A M I L Y

Parents: Both alive, never named them x)

Siblings: Two unnamed sisters and one brother, which she doesn't know is a brother because she left before he hit puberty. He's called Solrunn and is played by @inah-ffxiv (who also plays her wife)

Grandparents: I didn't flesh out the family tree so far so.... no idea

In-laws and Other: She's married to Yersinia Bordetella (which isn't her real name if you wonder after reading Inge's family name above) Also in a relationship with Y'shtola.

Pets: None

S K I L L S

Abilities: The notable ones would be magic enhancing/debuffing (and healing but if you don't get hit, it's even better), war surgery, alchemy (mostly potions), botany and bow hunting. She can hear the Elementals too

Hobbies: Reading smut and romance. That's about it, she loves her job as an adventurer and doesn't take much time off.

T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Steadfast and kind

Most Negative Trait: emotionally constipated and prone to reproach people their recklessness before doing the exact same fucking thing five minutes later (But it's different because she knows what she's doing™)

L I K E S

Colors: she loves bright colors in general but mostly wears neutral/earthly colors herself (as to not make a target of herself). Doesn't have a clear favorite

Smells: damp soil, forests, quite a lot alchemical agents, tea, campfires

Textures: Leather, smooth polished wood, soft wool

Drinks: Tea, tea and more tea

O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: Recreationally. Did you know the Twelve will approve of your union even if you're too high to remember the entire day? Should you get lucky enough to meet them, they'll even mention it /shudders

Drinks: Tea and water. Occasionally maybe some fruit juice. Never any alcohol, it makes her sick

Drugs: Nothing other than what I mentioned above

Mount Issuance: Inge's actually in the Twin Adder and got her chocobo through them. The bird doesn't have an actual name, she whistles to call it/give it orders and mostly uses it as a beast of burden rather than a mount. Her yol is in the care of the Mols. She didn't want to take it away from its natural environment, but she visits sometimes.

Been Arrested: Never. To say that she's always a law-abiding citizen might be pushing it though...

Tagged by: @lilbittymonster (ty!) Tagging @inah-ffxiv @adrayellinaeth @archaiclumina @hakai-zonapher @feathersage @wpip-raham @the-crimson-rose @sharlayanscion @ooc-miqojak (so you can pick which character you want to do it with) @punchelf @chadhunkler @clockworkdimensions @gatheredfates @corsair-kovacs @heavensw4rd

I went through my followers list and I have more characters so feel free to ignore if you're not interested and I'll tag more people when I do it with the rest of the cast!

[choicesmc]

🧠 for your MC's please.

thank you for stopping by o/ from [this] ask game

🧠 - What is their stress response: fight, flight, freeze, or fawn?

RAMS -> Freeze. Something’s going wrong? Time to freeze and stop thinking! On one hand, that can’t make things worse! On the other, things definitely can’t get better.

JIAHAO -> Fight. Very much a “scratch your eyes out first, ask questions later” sorta guy.

RIN -> Flight > Fight. Depends heavily on the situation though. She follows the ‘live to fight another day’ philosophy but sometimes a good punch can set a situation straighter than before, you know?

FIONA -> Fawn. Some of it is ingrained childhood behavior, pleasing finicky parental figures and all. You’ll get lots of quiet Fiona, extra-attentive to any possible needs and swiftly meeting them while generally edging the situation away from whatever’s causing the stress.

[canisalbus]

.

[abnomi]

another horrifically high effort joke animation for everyone! 😁 hello guys

deleted scene from turbo dating simulator

ORIGINAL ANIMATION THIS WAS BASED ON (by casteranimatez on tiktok!!)

bonus higher res pictures hehehe ... the background is kind of ugly but i wasnt too worried about it because the messiness was going to be obscured in the final product LOL !!! ignore how the kart has no internal details or handles or anything i Did Not Want to Draw any more

ibispaint premium come back to me baby i miss you...TONE CURVE COME BAAACK

[fraternum-momentum]

@ruinichii yayy (⌒_⌒)/

[royalarchivist]

Pac: This is the new me, ok? I want you to welcome... the new Pac! [...] This skin is really cool, I think I'm gonna use this more often.

Himaru: ...What happened to you, man? Did you get run over? 😰

Pac: [Laughs] Don't judge me, don't judge me!

Being ugly in Arkanis is a crime, and unfortunately for all of us, Pac loves being a criminal. 😓

[ Full Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]

—

Pac: Guys– This is the new me, ok? I want you to welcome... the new Pac!

Pac: [Laughs]

[Pac gets kicked from the server with the message: "Change this"]

Pac: [Laughing] No! No! No– I won't change, I won't change, I won't change! I won't change! Let me- let me in! No no no– What a dictatorship– there can't be a dictatorship here, no– No, I won't change! [Stammers] I'm- I'm myself! I'm myself!

Pac: [Pinches his nose so he has a nasally voice] Hi friends, welcome to class. I'm going to talk like that, ok? I'll even turn off the facecam, because today, I'm going to– I'm kidding, no no no.

Pac: Man, this skin is really cool, it really is. I think that this– I'm gonna use this more often, man. [Reading chat] "Halloween is over" Guys, this– This is who I am now! Who I am– This is me now, I'm this person here.

[Red text appears on the screen saying "30 seconds to change"]

Pac: "30 seconds to change–" Hang on, what is this?! No– calma, what is–? Guys, for the love of god–

[Another warning appears saying "20 seconds to change"]

Pac: No!!! No! No no no! No no no! You can't do this! You can't do this here. You- you can't. You can't make me change my skin.

[A final warning appears saying "10 seconds to change"]

Pac: No– You can't, I won't take it off! I'm going to my class now, I have to go to class! This is my "studying" skin! I- I–

[Pac gets banned]

Pac: [Hits his desk]

Dono: The skinmakers in chat are crying, having heart attacks, collapsing. It's horrible, dude.

Pac: [Laughs] It's not that ugly, it's fine, it's good.

Himaru: [Long pause] ...What happened to you, man? Did you get run over?

Pac: [Laughs] Don't judge me, don't judge me! Ok? Look at- look at- look at JVNQ! He has a funny face too, but nobody says anything about it!

Himaru: No man, I'm not judging you, but– I just wor- I'm just worried! [...] Well for me, I'll be serious with you: it doesn't matter what's on the outside, ok? What matters is what's inside, got it?

Pac: Thank you. [He hugs Himaru] Do you think I'm poggers? Do you think I'm poggers? Say it.

Himaru: No Pac, it doesn't matter that you look ugly, ridiculous, like a truck reversed into you then ran you over, like someone hit you–

Milo: my god

Himaru: –like Anderson Silva crushed you in the ring– Hey, it doesn't matter! What matters is that your heart is beating.

JV: And you have a home!

Himaru: Understand? Give love to others, ok?

Pac: My god.

Milo: he was saving those insults

Himaru: And that's all, ok man? You can be at peace, ok? I won't- I won't judge you, I'll just... I'll just do one thing, man.

Pac: What are you doing?

Himaru: I'm just going to avoid eye contact, ok? But I'm still talking to you, I'm still listening, ok? I hear you.

Pac: ...I can't believe this.

[vasiliquemort]

Commissions are open!<зз

Within my tender and my aching and postponed (for did they months had passed in-between of old and new one list of question, indeed o////o) - there is again a pricelist here concluded, and even form for a commission inquiry, too!

Full information regarding working process, commission's references and requirements of vision's disposition that might be needed to be toned firmly in the project, the list of prices - and all of questions that could be rising are yet detailed in the file~

I'll gently so adore to hear from you of evermore, please don't be shy - to message there or here onward if such comes to your heart - and mine shall follow!<з

Here comes the link to google form!~

[mummer]

just saw asteroid city last night, pls explain the proposed significance of the kiss!!

answering this publicly hope thats ok! cant do a readmore im on mobile *****asteroid city spoilers below beware*****

i dont remember anyones names so this is gonna sound partly unhinged. okay so the edward norton playwright and jason schwartzman actor (not character, in the black and white parts) are lovers right. tbh i thought this was kind of a gag and forgot about it. but later we find out that the playwright died 6 months into the production. i didnt make the connection that THAT’s why the actor-jason has to suddenly leave the stage and freaks out backstage about how he’s not sure he’s Doing it right. hes not talking about acting!! because he himself is literally grieving his lover while he’s playing a character who’s grieving his wife written by his lover so obviously it’s too much!!! actor-jason is trying to find meaning in his death through his writing but there isnt any meaning in death [gerris drinkwater voice] which is what the play is trying to say anyway. he doesnt think he’s performing grief right even in his own life!!! (and tbh it’s the 50s so he wouldnt be able to perform grief publicly anyway!!!!) the play starts with a car accident… anyone would search for some hidden meaning there, some sign…. so when he talks to margot robbie outside it’s not really about finding the CHARACTER’s motivations it’s about the actor himself being able to process the playwright’s death! and adrien brody director was probably also dealing with that too (him and norton seemed to be good buddies) so the whole “sleeping backstage” thing gets a bit sadder maybe? maybe everyone else got this in the theatre and im just stupid lol but crazy making stuff to me!!! the whole story is about sublimated gay grief that cannot be expressed?!?!

the tweet that caught me onto this was here which posits that the playwright’s death was a suicide but i think that’s pretty stupid and unnecessary because the whole thing about the play asteroid city is that death is random and meaningless. im pretty sure that’s what the alien represents— a shocking and absurd event that isnt outright evil or menacing, not something anyone can predict or make sense of, it’s just a thing that happens to you out of nowhere, it doesnt mean anything. he’s a little black figure, he’s death! giving and taking! aagh

[grimalkinscribbles]

Mhin with a feather chest (like falin from delicious in dungeon)

Pov: Mhin is very reluctantly showing you the birb floof 🐦‍⬛

[thestarlightforge]

Edit: Tone Tag 😭 I am not yelling at y’all, I’m just exploding in my little gay disabled wandavision young avengers bubble. It’s all excitement/relief/love over here. 😊💙

JAC REPURPOSED WANDA’S CRAPPY RITUALISTIC AMNESIAC STORYLINE FOR GOOD

“JUST PRETEND I’M NOT HERE” JAC SCHAEFFER— 🫠

IT’S NOT TWO KIDS IN ONE BODY, THE HEX INDIRECTLY KILLED WILLIAM KAPLAN, BILLY MAXIMOFF IS REALLY BILLY WITH A REAL SOUL THAT HAD NO HOME—HE’S REALLY WANDA’S SON, TOMMY’S BROTHER

SOME OF HIS MEMORIES GOT MUDDLED AND HE LEARNED TO REPRESS SOME OF HIS MAGIC, BUT HE COULD BARELY EVEN GET OUT CALLING REBECCA “MOM” IN THE KAPLANS’ LIVING ROOM AND HE NEVER REMEMBERED WILLIAM KAPLAN’S LIFE—BECAUSE WANDA’S KIDS WERE REAL AND HERS, WHETHER 45 YEARS OF MISOGYNISTIC COMICS WRITERS LIKE IT OR NOT

“WHO ARE YOU?” “WILLIAM KAPLAN.” “SAY AGAIN?”

“I’M BILLY MAXIMOFF” AND

“I’M NOT THAT NICE” 😭

BILLY MAXIMOFF FELL IN LOVE WITH A BOY, HE DIDN’T JUST TAKE WILLIAM KAPLAN’S BOYFRIEND TO BLEND IN

JAC DIDN’T FORGET ABOUT TOMMY, NO ONE DID—THIS WHOLE THING IS FOR HIM AND HE’S EVERYWHERE

WILLIAM KAPLAN’S LAST WORDS WERE “MOM, LOOK OUT” AND

BILLY MAXIMOFF’S FIRST WORD OUTSIDE THE HEX

WAS “TOMMY” 😭

[moxanji-real]

♡ “Forever Yours, Stinky Baby” ♡ (A Moxanji wedding fic)

✎ One Shot, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sfw

✎ One Piece fanfic, Oc x Canon/Self insert x Canon

✎ 6.8k words

The day had finally arrived. Sanji sat in the dressing room, adjusting the collar of his pale pink suit for what felt like the hundredth time. A soft sigh escaped him as he stared into the mirror, his blue eyes reflecting a mixture of excitement and nerves. He tugged at his tie, ensuring it was perfectly straight, and couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to the moments that had brought him here.

It felt like just yesterday that he proposed to Moxie. It had been a magical evening in Wano, the night sky painted with stars, and the soft glow of lanterns reflecting off the gentle ripples of the water. They had taken a romantic boat ride, just the two of them, floating through the picturesque canals of the beautiful country. Sanji had poured his heart out, dropping to one knee to present her with a dazzling diamond ring.

“Moxie, my love,” he had said, his voice trembling with emotion, “will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

Her answer had been immediate—a resounding “YES!” that echoed into the night as she leaped into his arms, throwing the boat off balance and sending them both toppling into the water. They’d emerged dripping wet, their elegant kimonos clinging to them as they laughed and held each other close. When they returned to the crew, soaked to the bone and grinning like fools, Moxie’s new ring glittered under the moonlight.

Sanji smiled at the memory as he slicked back his blonde hair in the mirror. He could still hear the cheers of the crew when they’d announced their engagement. Even Zoro, the eternally grumpy swordsman, had given him a rare nod of approval. They’d been through so much together—even surviving Whole Cake Island and the heartbreak it brought—but every trial had only solidified their bond. Sanji knew, now more than ever, that Moxie was his soulmate, and nothing could ever tear them apart again.

He took a deep breath and reached for a cigarette, his nerves getting the better of him. The wedding was happening on Momoiro Island, a place he had very mixed feelings about. Moxie had insisted it was her dream wedding location, and he couldn’t bear to say no to her. The island was vibrant and magical, a true fairy-tale setting that fit Moxie’s vision perfectly—but it also meant dealing with him.

The door burst open with a flamboyant flourish, and Sanji groaned internally.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite candy boy!” Ivankov declared, twirling into the room in an outrageous suit made entirely of flowers. Only Iva could pull off something so audacious.

“What do you want?” Sanji muttered, barely masking his annoyance.

“That’s no way to greet your mentor! And the flower girl of your wedding!” Ivankov retorted, clutching his chest dramatically.

Sanji rolled his eyes, turning back to the mirror to ignore Iva’s antics.

“Anyway,” Iva continued with a mischievous grin, “I just wanted to let you know… a very special guest has arrived for your wedding.”

Before Sanji could even ask who, Iva twirled out of the room, scattering flower petals behind him.

Sanji exhaled a plume of smoke, his curiosity piqued. A moment later, the door creaked open again, and Sanji froze. Standing there, looking as gruff as ever, was Zeff.

The old man’s eyes softened as he looked at Sanji. “You didn’t think I’d miss this, did you, you little brat?”

Sanji stood abruptly, his cigarette nearly falling from his lips. His voice wavered. “You old geezer… I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

Zeff’s expression remained stern, but there was a glimmer of emotion in his eyes. “Well, I’m here now,” he said, limping over with his peg leg. His gaze swept over Sanji’s suit. “Pink suits you.”

Sanji blushed at the unexpected compliment. “Thanks… Dad.”

Zeff stepped closer, adjusting Sanji’s tie with the care of a father seeing his son off. He placed a firm hand on Sanji’s shoulder, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You take care of that girl. She’s a good one.”

“She’s not a girl anymore,” Sanji said with a proud smile. “She’s a woman. And she’s beautiful.”

Zeff chuckled, his gruff demeanor returning. “She’ll always be the girl from Baratie who distracted my best waiter.” He smirked before giving Sanji a playful bonk on the head.

“That hurt, you bastard,” Sanji grumbled, rubbing his head, though he couldn’t help but smile.

“Come on, son,” Zeff said, his tone softer now. “Let’s get you to the aisle.”

Sanji took a final drag of his cigarette, snuffing it out before linking arms with Zeff. As they exited the dressing room, the chatter outside quieted, and all eyes turned to the groom. The whispers of admiration didn’t go unnoticed—especially when they saw Zeff walking beside him.

When they reached the altar, Zeff patted Sanji’s back. “You’ll do great, you little brat. Just don’t screw it up.”

Sanji chuckled, his nerves settling slightly as he watched the groomsmen and bridesmaids make their way down the aisle. Nami looked stunning in a pink dress, Robin elegant in deep purple. Usopp and Brook followed in matching purple suits, while Luffy sported a pink tuxedo and matching hat, grinning ear to ear. The color scheme of pink and purple was vibrant and perfectly fitting for Moxie’s dream wedding.

Zoro took his place beside Sanji, crossing his arms with a scowl. “Can’t wait to see how you screw this up, love cook.”

Sanji scoffed. “I’d rather die than mess this up, moss head.”

“Is that so? Because I bet—”

“Enough!” Nami snapped, glaring at the two of them. “This is Moxie’s special day, and I won’t have you ruining it!”

Sanji instantly melted into heart-eyed adoration. “Of course, Nami-swan~!”

Nami rolled her eyes, while Zoro muttered something under his breath.

Sanji turned his attention back to the ceremony, scanning the lineup. Then he frowned. “Where the hell is Franky?”

————————————————————————

The scene shifted to the bride’s dressing room, where Moxie paced in tight circles. She was a vision of beauty in her wedding gown: a soft pink, mermaid-style dress adorned with delicate flower sequins that shimmered under the light. The off-the-shoulder, sheer purple lace complemented her figure perfectly, adding an ethereal quality to her look. Atop her head sat a floral crown of clovers, with a pink veil cascading down from beneath it, framing her face like a dream. But despite her breathtaking appearance, her movements betrayed her nerves.

“Damn it, I’m so nervous,” she muttered under her breath, her heels clicking against the floor as she continued her restless pacing. Her heart was pounding, not from excitement but from the gnawing fear that something—anything—could go wrong. She loved Sanji more than anything in the world, but the doubts wouldn’t stop whispering in the back of her mind.

A sudden knock on the door jolted her from her thoughts. She spun around, running to open it, and sighed in relief when she saw Franky standing there, his towering frame filling the doorway.

“Thank God you’re here!” she exclaimed, grabbing his mechanical hand and yanking him inside before he could even greet her properly.

“Do you have it?” she asked urgently, her eyes wide and desperate.

Franky chuckled, patting his chest with a proud grin. “Of course! I never leave the Sunny without it!” He opened a compartment in his mechanical chest, and with a flourish, he pulled out a bottle of cola.

Moxie didn’t waste a second. She snatched the bottle out of his hand and started chugging it like her life depended on it.

“Whoa, whoa!” Franky raised an eyebrow, watching in disbelief. “You’re not even gonna savor it? That’s some quality cola, you know!”

Moxie finished the bottle in record time, letting it clatter to the floor as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I needed that,” she panted, already feeling a little calmer.

“Clearly,” Franky said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You just downed that at SUPER speed. Impressive, though.”

Moxie collapsed into the chair at her vanity, her hands running through her perfectly styled hair. “I’m so tired…” she confessed, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “I couldn’t sleep at all last night. At first, I thought it was excitement, but nope—just nerves. Pure, unrelenting nerves.” She groaned, rubbing at her eyes. “Do I look awful? Are my eye bags showing? I tried to cover them up with makeup, but I don’t trust myself right now.”

Franky leaned down, inspecting her face like a craftsman evaluating his work. “Nope. Can’t even tell. You’ve got some SUPER makeup skills.”

Moxie smirked, a hint of pride breaking through her stress. “Thanks. If I weren’t a badass pirate, I’d totally consider being a makeup artist,” she joked, half-serious.

The lighthearted moment passed as Franky’s expression grew serious. He crouched to her level, his mechanical hand resting gently on her shoulder. “Alright, Moxie. What’s really going on?” His voice was calm but firm, and his piercing gaze told her there was no getting out of this conversation.

“I’m fine,” she said weakly, trying to wave him off.

Franky didn’t budge. “Don’t give me that crap. I’m your big bro, remember? You can tell me anything. What’s eating at you?”

Moxie sighed, finally meeting his eyes before looking away. She knew she couldn’t lie to Franky, not when he cared so much. She swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I just… I keep wondering if I deserve this. If I deserve to be Sanji’s wife.”

Franky’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course, you do! Sanji loves you, and you love him. Why would you think you don’t deserve him?”

“It’s just…” Her voice cracked as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “Sanji’s an angel. He’s perfect—sweet, kind, a complete gentleman. And then there’s me. I’m a broken, messed-up woman who can’t even be left alone for an hour without freaking out. I’m afraid… that the clinginess he finds cute now is gonna get old. What if he gets tired of me?”

Franky sighed deeply, his mechanical hand tightening on her shoulder. “Moxie, you’re your own worst enemy. You wear this mask of confidence, but I see right through it. You’re always tearing yourself down, and honestly? It pisses me off. You’re amazing, quirks and all. Sure, you’ve got your baggage—hell, we all do—but that doesn’t make you any less deserving of love. Sanji knows you, the real you, and he still chose you. That’s gotta mean something.”

Tears welled up in Moxie’s eyes, her voice shaking as she whispered, “I just… I’ve always felt like I didn’t deserve the good things in my life. I grew up thinking I was selfish, that I didn’t deserve happiness. And now, with Sanji… It feels too good to be true. Like I’m going to mess it all up somehow.”

Franky’s expression softened, but his voice was resolute. “Listen to me, Moxie. Sanji doesn’t need or want someone ‘perfect.’ He wants you. You’re the woman he fell in love with, the one he chose to spend the rest of his life with. You think he’s perfect, right? Well, guess what? He thinks the same about you. So stop doubting yourself and go marry your Prince Charming. Make that dream of yours come true.”

Moxie stared at him, her tears threatening to spill. Slowly, she wiped her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her veil.

“You’re right,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I need to stop letting these stupid thoughts ruin this for me. I came here to marry my Prince Charming, not to back out like an idiot.” She smiled, small but determined. “I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”

Franky grinned, giving her a thumbs-up. “That’s what I like to hear. Now, let’s get out there and make this the most SUPER wedding ever.”

Moxie laughed softly, linking her arm with his. Together, they walked out of the dressing room, her nerves easing with every step.

————————————————————————

The scene shifts back to the ceremony, where Sanji stands at the altar, surrounded by friends, family, and crewmates. The air hums with anticipation. Brook, sitting at the orchestra, begins playing the traditional wedding march, his bony fingers gracefully gliding over the keys.

Sanji’s heart races as he hears the first notes of the song. His eyes instinctively snap to the aisle, only to widen in disbelief as Iva strides forward, a whirlwind of drama in his flower-covered suit. He scatters petals with wild, exaggerated flair, laughing to himself.

“Flowers here… flowers there… flowers everywhere!” Iva declares, tossing the petals with theatrical precision.

Sanji twitches, his eyebrow ticking in irritation at Iva’s antics. He mutters under his breath, “Does he have to make everything about him?”

But all irritation melts away the instant he sees her. At the top of the aisle, Moxie appears on Franky’s arm, radiant in a pink flowery dress. The soft light catches the details of her gown, making her seem ethereal. Gasps and murmurs ripple through the crowd.

“She’s gorgeous,” someone whispers.

“She’s stunning,” another agrees.

Sanji’s jaw drops, his eyes turning into cartoon hearts as he stares at her. His breath catches in his throat.

From the back, Zeff chuckles, arms crossed. “That idiot finally did something right,” he murmurs, pride evident in his voice.

As Iva takes his place beside Sanji at the altar, he leans in with a mischievous grin. “That dress she’s wearing? I picked it out entirely myself. You’re welcome.” He sashays into place, leaving Sanji to glare daggers at him.

Franky, striding with all the confidence of a shipwright, escorts Moxie down the aisle. Noticing Sanji’s slack-jawed expression, he grins. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he says loudly enough for the whole crowd to hear.

Sanji doesn’t respond—he’s in too deep a trance.

When they reach the altar, Franky gently lets go of Moxie, patting her hand. “You’ve got this, sis,” he whispers before stepping into place with the other groomsmen.

Moxie steps forward, stopping directly in front of Sanji. Behind her veil, she smiles warmly. “I’ve always loved you in pink,” she teases softly, her voice carrying just enough to reach him.

Sanji immediately drops to his knees, overwhelmed by the sight of her. Tears stream from his eyes as he gazes up at her. “You’re so beautiful…” he breathes.

Without warning, he wraps his arms around her legs, nuzzling them affectionately. “I need to kiss you right now,” he declares, locking eyes with her under the veil. “I have to—”

Before he can act on his impulse, Zoro steps in, grabbing Sanji by the collar and yanking him backward. “Wait until the pastor says you can kiss her, you idiot! This is a ceremony, not one of your damn fantasies!”

Sanji flushes crimson, coughing awkwardly as he straightens himself. “Fine, fine… You’re right,” he mumbles, embarrassed. For once, he doesn’t argue. He adjusts his tie and stands upright, trying to compose himself as the officiant steps forward.

The officiant clears his throat, his voice warm and resonant.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here on this beautiful day to witness the union of Sanji and Moxie in holy matrimony. This is a day of great celebration and reverence, on which we come together to recognize and commemorate the sacred love and dedication shared between these two people. It is wonderful to have everyone here to join us today. The groom and bride would like to thank their guests for being here and would like you to know that each of you were invited here on this day because you have played an integral part in their intertwining lives.”

As the officiant speaks, Sanji and Moxie exchange tender glances. His words blur into the background as they get lost in each other’s eyes. Both of them are fighting the urge to pull the other into their arms and kiss right there and then. But they hold back, determined to respect the ceremony.

The officiant’s next words bring them back to the moment.

“Sanji and Moxie, the sacred vows you make to one another today present you with the opportunity to express your love in your own words. I would at this time invite you to publicly declare your vows.”

Turning to Sanji, the officiant says, “Sanji, you may begin by making your promise to your soon-to-be wife, Moxie.”

Sanji takes a deep, trembling breath, the emotions in his chest almost too much to bear. He steps forward and begins:

“Moxie-moon, my love, my life, my everything. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were special. Your strength, your beauty, your fiery spirit—you’ve captured my heart and soul. I promise to love you, cherish you, and protect you for the rest of our lives.”

He pauses to wipe away a tear.

“I promise to make you laugh, to hold you when you cry, and to always be your rock, your support. I promise to cook for you, to dance with you, and to love you with every fiber of my being. I promise to stand by your side, through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. You are my sun, my moon, my stars, and I will love you forever and always. I, Sanji Vinsmoke, take you, Moxie, to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

His voice cracks as he finishes, his heart overflowing with love and adoration.

Moxie, tearing up, squeezes his hands. She takes a deep breath before launching into her own vows:

“Oh, Sanji… my sweet, handsome Sanji. From the moment I met you at the Baratie, I knew you were the one for me. Your perfect little swirly eyebrows, your dazzling smile, and those beautiful eyes—how could I resist? When I was ready to give up on love, you came into my life like a fairy tale prince. I don’t care how corny it sounds—our love is magic, and I’m so glad it’s real. You’re the best chef in the entire world and now that you’re not sneaking me bites behind Zeff’s back, I get to enjoy your cooking freely—and often. I’m so proud of you, Sanji. You’re strong, talented, and way too handsome for your own good, but somehow, I’m the lucky one who gets to call you mine.”

Moxies voice then cracks out of pure love and happiness. “I can’t wait to marry you, my stinky baby. And thank you, thank you for making my dream of finding love come true.”

Sanji tries to kiss her after hearing her vows, but once again, he’s intercepted—this time by Zeff, who throws a shoe at his head. “OW! What was that for?!” Sanji complains.

“Wait until the officiant says you can kiss her, you idiot!” Zeff scolds.

Sanji grumbles but quickly turns back to Moxie, his anger melting into adoration at the sight of her

The officiant clears his throat awkwardly, trying to bring the ceremony back on track.

“Sanji and Moxie, please face one another and join hands. Under the eyes of God, Sanji, do you take Moxie to be your lawfully wedded wife? By making this commitment, you are joining in the sacred covenant of marriage.”

He pauses, his tone serious. “Do you promise to honor her in love, to be sensitive to her needs, to comfort her in difficulty, and to put your full and complete trust in her, so long as you both shall live?”

Sanji meets the officiant’s gaze with equal seriousness, then turns to look at Moxie with pure love and devotion in his eyes. “I do,” he says firmly, his voice filled with sincerity.

The officiant nods and turns to Moxie. “Under the eyes of God, Moxie, do you take Sanji to be your lawfully wedded husband? By making this commitment, you are joining in the covenant of marriage.”

“Do you promise to honor him in love, to be sensitive to his needs, to comfort him in difficulty, and to put your full and complete trust in him, so long as you both shall live?”

Tears well up in Moxie’s eyes as she answers, her voice trembling with emotion. “I do… I do so freaking much!” Overcome, she squeezes Sanji’s hand tightly, her overwhelming love threatening to bubble over. Sanji sniffles and blinks back his own tears as they share an emotional moment.

The officiant smiles gently and continues. “To commemorate this union, you may now exchange rings. The circle formed by each ring symbolizes your eternal love and commitment to one another. Let these rings remind you always of that love, and of the promises you have made here today.”

He addresses Sanji first. “Sanji, please repeat after me as you place the ring on your loved one’s hand: ‘I, Sanji, give you Moxie, this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment. With this ring, I thee wed.’”

Sanji nods, his eyes shining with excitement. He takes the ring from the officiant, holding it carefully. “I, Sanji, give you Moxie, this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment. With this ring, I thee wed.” His voice is steady but brimming with emotion as he slips the ring onto Moxie’s finger. His fingers brush hers gently, and he adds softly, “Ah, Moxie-Moon… you’re officially mine now.” A wide grin spreads across his face, radiating pure joy.

The officiant turns to Moxie. “Moxie, please repeat after me: ‘I, Moxie, give you Sanji, this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment. With this ring, I thee wed.’”

Moxie repeats the words, her voice sweet but full of playful affection. “I, Moxie, give you Sanji, this ring as a symbol of my love and commitment. With this ring, I thee wed.” She slides the ring onto Sanji’s finger with a teasing smile. “Looks like you’re officially mine too~” Her eyes twinkle as she stares at him, both teasing and sincere.

Sanji chuckles, looking at the ring on his finger. “Ah, Moxie-Moon… You’re right. I’m officially yours now.” He takes her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. “I like the sound of that.”

The officiant beams. “By the power vested in me by myself, I now pronounce you, Sanji and Moxie, as husband and wife, lawfully wedded before God.” He grins, moving to the part everyone’s been waiting for. “You may now kiss the bride, forever sealing your union!”

Sanji lights up with happiness. “Ah, thank you, pastor!” He cups Moxie’s face in his hands, his touch gentle. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, Moxie-Moon. I love you, my wife.” His voice is full of emotion as he continues, “I promise to always cherish and protect you, to always make you happy, and to always love you with every fiber—”

Moxie doesn’t let him finish. Overcome with anticipation, she grabs him and kisses him passionately. Sanji’s initial shock quickly fades as he wraps his arms around her, kissing her back with equal fervor. “Moxie-Moon,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice breathless.

The crowd erupts into applause and cheers. “You go get him, Moxie!” Franky calls out with a laugh. Chopper blushes and hides his face with his hooves. “Oh my… this is very… passionate,” he mutters shyly.

The kiss grows even more heated, and Moxie lifts Sanji effortlessly, prompting him to instinctively wrap his legs around her waist. They continue their intense make-out session as the crowd gasps. Even the officiant turns bright red, averting his eyes. “Ahem… perhaps we should—oh my,” he stammers, thoroughly embarrassed.

Iva smirks mischievously, watching the scene unfold. “Well, well… Looks like we know who’s wearing the pants in this relationship. I see right through you, candy boy,” he says with a knowing grin.

Eventually, Moxie and Sanji pull away from their passionate embrace, both breathless. The crowd is divided between stunned silence and roaring approval. Zeff, Sanji’s old mentor, rubs his eyes and bursts into laughter, muttering something about his boy’s dramatic flair.

The officiant, grateful for the pause, clears his throat and raises his hands. “Ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between, it is my great honor to present to you Mr. and Mrs. Vinsmoke!”

The newlyweds turn to face the cheering crowd as their hands remain intertwined. Moxie waves warmly at Jahmike, who grins and gives her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. From across the room, Princess Viola winks playfully and blows Moxie a teasing kiss. Moxie’s cheeks turn pink, but she simply smirks and looks away, choosing instead to focus on her husband. Sanji glances over at Zeff and his former Baratie coworkers, giving them a warm wave. Zeff, clearly holding back tears, rubs his eyes and laughs quietly to himself, pride shining through his usual gruff demeanor.

With the interactions behind them, the world seems to quiet as Moxie and Sanji begin their walk down the aisle. Hand in hand, they move together with perfect harmony, their love radiating in every step. Moxie gazes up at Sanji, her heart swelling with happiness so intense it feels like a dream. Sanji’s eyes never leave hers, his smile soft, filled with unspoken promises. As they walk, he leans closer and whispers, his voice tender, “You’re my dream come true, Moxie-Moon.”

The moment feels timeless, as if it belongs to them alone. With each step, their love shines brighter, lighting the path to the rest of their lives together.

————————————————————————

Time Skip: After the Wedding Ceremony

The guests were now seated, enjoying drinks and lively conversation. Robin stood and gently tapped her glass, signaling for everyone’s attention. She smiled at the newlyweds as she began her toast.

“A toast to the happy couple—Sanji and Moxie. May your love flourish like a fine wine and your days together be as smooth as its finish. And remember, Moxie, if Sanji ever overcooks a dish, there’s always poison in the kitchen to keep him in check,” she added with a sly, dark humor.

The room erupted into a mix of laughter and gasps.

Sanji chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck, while Moxie let out a genuine laugh. “Good one, Robin!” Moxie said, lifting her glass of red wine. She took a sip, savoring the taste with a pleased expression.

Sanji leaned closer, his voice soft and flirtatious. “Did I do a good job picking it out? I made sure to choose only the finest wine for the finest lady.”

Moxie set her glass down, her face suddenly serious. “Nah, it tastes like crap.”

Sanji froze, his expression falling into a crestfallen pout. “W-What? Moxie—”

Before he could say more, her lips curled into a teasing smile as she burst into laughter. “Gotcha! I’m just kidding. It’s perfect, Sanji.”

Sanji let out a relieved laugh, holding a hand over his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack, Moxie-Moon! I might’ve cried if you really hated it.”

At that moment, Zeff approached the table, his burly frame towering over the couple. He gave Sanji a proud look before turning his attention to Moxie. “Well done, Sanji. And you—Moxie, is it? Glad to see this is the woman my idiot eggplant chose to marry.” His eyes twinkled with a hint of humor as he added, “Though maybe I should’ve brought diapers as a wedding gift, considering the whole ‘stinky baby’ thing.”

Sanji’s face turned bright red, and he waved his hands defensively. “It’s just a nickname, old man!”

“I know, I know. Just messing with you, kid.” Zeff chuckled, patting Sanji firmly on the shoulder. Then, he turned to Moxie, his tone softening. “Take care of him, okay? He’s been through a lot, but he’s got a heart of gold. I’m proud of the man he’s become—and the husband he’ll be. You’ve got yourself a good one.”

Moxie smiled warmly and shook Zeff’s hand. “Thank you, Zeff. I promise to take care of him, too.”

Zeff nodded and walked away, leaving the couple be.

Suddenly, the sound of enthusiastic eating caught their attention. Luffy was gorging himself on the wedding feast, fried chicken and seafood pasta scattered haphazardly across the table in front of him.

“Can’t you have manners for once?!” Sanji yelled, his eye twitching in frustration.

“But the food’s soooo good!” Luffy said through a mouthful. “Who made it?”

“Who else?” Sanji puffed his chest out proudly. “I made everything—the food, the cake, every single dish you’ve stuffed your face with!”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Moxie said, grabbing Sanji’s arm and pulling him close. She planted a playful kiss on his cheek. “I love my stinky chef’s cooking.”

Sanji’s eyes turned into cartoon hearts as he swooned. “Moxie-Moon!” He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled his cheek against hers, basking in her affection.

“Uh, Sanji,” Chopper interrupted shyly, approaching the couple. “Not to be rude, but… when are we going to have the cake?”

Before Sanji could respond, Luffy jumped up comically. “Yeah! When’s cake time?!”

Usopp overheard and started a chant. “Cake! Cake! Cake!” Chopper and Luffy eagerly joined in, pumping their fists in the air.

Sanji sighed, slightly annoyed that his moment with Moxie had been interrupted. “Quiet down! We’ll have the cake when Moxie-Moon says so.”

“Actually, now’s the perfect time,” Moxie said with a smile.

Sanji’s mood instantly brightened, and his cartoon hearts returned. “Then cake time it is!”

The couple moved to the elegant white wedding cake, adorned with intricate flower designs and topped with edible figures of themselves. Sanji looked at it proudly. “This,” he said, “is my masterpiece. A rich chocolate cake with layers of hazelnut cream, made with only the finest ingredients. It’s a dessert fit for my queen.”

He handed Moxie the first slice. “You first, my darling wife.”

Moxie grinned as she accepted it. “Only if you insist, my handsome husband.” Their eyes locked lovingly as she took a bite. Her elegant demeanor slipped as she exclaimed, “Holy shit, this is delicious!”

Sanji laughed, only to have Moxie suddenly shove a forkful of cake into his mouth. He looked startled but quickly chewed and swallowed. “Wow,” he said smugly, “I really outdid myself this time.”

Moxie smirked and smeared a bit of frosting on his face.

“Moxie!” he exclaimed, blushing furiously.

Luffy’s eyes lit up. “Food fight!” he shouted, rushing toward the cake.

“Absolutely not!” Sanji and Zeff yelled in unison.

Luffy froze, pouting as he trudged back to his seat. “Lame,” he muttered.

Meanwhile, Moxie leaned in and licked some frosting off Sanji’s cheek. His face turned bright red as his nose began to bleed. “Moxie-Moon!” he stammered, his eyes returning to heart shapes.

“What? I like my Sanji face cake,” she teased.

“Oh, Moxie…” Sanji wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply, much to the cheers and laughter of their guests.

Eventually, everyone got their slice of cake and settled back down. Moxie watched Sanji animatedly describe the cake’s rich flavors to his old Baratie coworkers, his passion for cooking shining brightly.

Nami approached Moxie from behind, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” she said softly.

Moxie turned to face her, a bit surprised but smiling. “Oh, hey, Nami!”

Nami hesitated for a moment, her usual cool demeanor faltering. “I just wanted to say… I’m really happy for you two. Sanji really needed someone like you in his life. And, well… maybe you needed him too.” Her cheeks turned slightly pink as she quickly added, “Not that I’m getting all sentimental or anything.”

Moxie’s eyes softened as she looked at Nami. “That means a lot, Nami. Thank you.” She grinned and leaned in to pull her into a warm hug. Nami stiffened at first, clearly unused to the display of affection, but then awkwardly patted Moxie on the back.

As they pulled apart, Moxie chuckled. “You know, I used to think you were my competition for Sanji.”

Nami’s eyes widened for a split second before she scoffed dramatically, flipping her hair. “Over my dead body! That perverted cook is all yours. Trust me, I’m not cut out for dealing with him.” She smirked, crossing her arms. “Though I guess I shouldn’t be saying that since he’s your husband now.”

Moxie laughed, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “Oh, I know he’s a handful. And a total pervert. But…” She turned her gaze toward Sanji, who was animatedly talking with his old Baratie coworkers. His face lit up with passion as he described the layers of the cake, his hands gesturing excitedly. “He’s my pervert. And I wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

Nami followed her gaze, watching Sanji wave enthusiastically when he noticed Moxie looking at him. His lovestruck grin was as bright as ever.

Nami shook her head with a small smirk. “You two are disgustingly perfect for each other.” She nudged Moxie playfully. “Go on, lovebird. Your stinky chef is waiting.”

Moxie laughed, her cheeks warming. “Thanks, Nami. For everything.”

Without another word, Moxie made her way across the room, weaving between guests. As she approached Sanji, his eyes lit up even more, and he extended a hand toward her. She took it without hesitation, letting him pull her close.

“There you are, my Moxie-Moon,” Sanji said, his voice low and filled with affection.

“Here I am,” Moxie replied, smiling up at him. She leaned in, resting her forehead against his. “And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Sanji wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. “Moxie,” he whispered, “you’re my everything.”

The two swayed gently together, lost in their own little world, as the rest of the wedding celebration carried on around them.

————————————————————————

It was nighttime now, and the sounds of lively music filled the air. Soft pink and purple lights illuminated the venue, casting a dreamy glow over the celebration. Everyone was enjoying themselves, drinks flowing and laughter echoing in the night. On the dance floor, Moxie and Brook were having a silly dance-off, twirling and spinning with exaggerated movements. Brook spun her dramatically, and she let out a playful laugh—until she found herself caught by Sanji’s steady hands.

“May I have this dance?” Sanji asked, his deep blue eyes locking onto hers, sparkling with the undeniable love he felt for her.

Moxie’s lips curled into a soft smile as she gazed back at him, her green eyes shimmering. “You may,” she said, placing her hand in his and allowing him to pull her closer.

The music shifted into a slow, romantic melody as Sanji wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a gentle sway. They danced in perfect harmony, their movements fluid and natural as if the world around them had melted away.

“You have the most beautiful green eyes,” Sanji said softly, his voice tender as he stared into them. He’d told her this countless times before, but every time he said it, he meant it more than the last.

Moxie blushed faintly, lowering her gaze for a moment. “You always say that… and yet, you still manage to fluster me every single time.” She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head at how easily he made her heart flutter.

Sanji gently lifted her chin with his fingers, his touch warm and reassuring. “Don’t look down, mon amour. Let me admire them just a little longer.” His voice was a quiet murmur, and the way he looked at her made her feel like the only woman in the world.

As they stared into each other’s eyes, the moment was suddenly interrupted by the loud ping of a button flying off Franky’s suit. It hit Usopp square in the eye.

“Oops! My bad, bro—!” Franky said, rushing over to the now-fuming sniper. “Can I get you a nice iced cola for that eye?” He pulled out a cola from his chest compartment and handed it over.

Usopp snatched it with a scowl, pressing the cold can to his face. “This is just great…” he muttered under his breath, clearly annoyed.

Moxie couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, and Sanji let out a resigned sigh. He was glad she found it funny, but he had really hoped for an uninterrupted moment with her.

Mimi, the ship’s tailor and Franky’s girlfriend, strolled over with a playful smirk. “How many times do I have to fix this for you?” she teased, feigning exasperation as she pulled out a needle and thread from her purse. She began sewing the button back onto his suit while Franky chuckled nervously.

Moxie turned her attention back to Sanji, her laughter fading into a soft smile. She leaned in and gave him an Eskimo kiss, rubbing her nose gently against his. Sanji’s pout instantly melted into a smile, and he gave her one in return.

“My stinky baby…” she said affectionately, her voice warm and teasing.

“My Moxie-Moon…” he replied, nuzzling his nose against hers.

They continued to dance together under the soft lights, stealing precious moments of intimacy before eventually sneaking away from the crowd. Hand in hand, they wandered to a quiet bench under the starry sky, the twinkling lights above creating the perfect romantic backdrop.

Sanji sighed contentedly, looking up at the heavens. “You know, Moxie… the stars don’t hold a candle to you. You’re the brightest thing in my world.”

Moxie laughed at his earnest attempt at flirting. “You’re so cheesy, baby,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “But I love you for it.”

Sanji smiled, interlocking his fingers with hers. “I’m cheesy for you, mademoiselle,” he murmured, leaning his head gently on top of hers.

A comfortable silence settled between them, the night enveloping them in its quiet embrace, until Moxie broke it. “I can’t wait for our honeymoon in Dressrosa…” she said with a soft sigh, her voice tinged with excitement.

Sanji smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Neither can I, my love. Just don’t blame me if we don’t leave the hotel room for a while…”

Moxie gasped and playfully punched his shoulder. “Pervert!” she scolded, though a teasing grin spread across her face. “But you’re my pervert.” She leaned in and gave his cheek a light bite, causing him to wince slightly.

“That’s right. I’m your perv—hey! I’m a gentleman!” Sanji protested with a pout.

Moxie smirked, her eyes sparkling. “Can’t you be both?” she teased, tilting her head.

Sanji couldn’t help but smile at her, his heart full to bursting. He pulled her into a deep kiss, one hand cupping her cheek as he poured every ounce of love he felt into the gesture. When they pulled apart, he gazed into her eyes with an intensity that made her blush.

“How could I not be a little perverted when I married such a gorgeous fox?” he said, his voice dripping with adoration.

Moxie’s cheeks flushed bright red. Before she could respond, Sanji’s expression turned serious. He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of his lighter before taking a slow drag. “Franky told me what you said to him earlier…” he began, exhaling a puff of smoke.

Moxie stiffened slightly, caught off guard.

“And I want to make one thing clear,” he continued, his tone low and firm. “You deserve me, Moxie. There’s never been a second where you didn’t. If anything, I don’t deserve you. You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. You’ve given me a happiness I didn’t think was possible.”

Moxie’s eyes filled with tears, her bottom lip trembling. “Sanji…” she whispered, her voice shaking. She flung her arms around him, burying her face in his chest as sobs wracked her body.

Sanji’s eyes widened in panic. “You’re going to ruin your makeup!” he exclaimed, his voice rising in alarm.

“To hell with my makeup!” Moxie shot back, looking up at him with mascara streaking down her face. Her voice was filled with raw emotion. “Can’t you just… stop making me love you more than I already thought was possible?”

Before he could respond, she grabbed him and kissed him fiercely, her tears mixing with their kiss. Sanji was momentarily stunned but quickly melted into it, holding her tightly as if she might disappear. When they finally pulled apart, both were left breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s.

“I love you,” they both said at the same time, their voices blending in perfect unison.

They stared at each other in surprise before bursting into laughter.

Moments later, Jinbe appeared, clearing his throat gently. “Ah, Moxie and Sanji, the guests were wondering where the bride and groom disappeared to. I was sent to find you, but I can give you a moment longer if you need it.”

Moxie smiled and stood, brushing off her dress. “Nah, we’re good to head back.” She glanced down at Sanji, extending a hand to him. “What about you, stinky baby?”

Sanji’s eyes turned into cartoon hearts as he grabbed her hand. “Anything for my Moxie-Moon~”

With their fingers interlocked, they followed Jinbe back to the wedding venue, ready to rejoin the celebration. As they walked, the night sky sparkled above them, a perfect reflection of the love they shared.

The end.

Tag list:

@frankys-wife @jahmikexnami (you didn’t ask to be tagged but you’re a part of my fic. Even if it’s a very small one. I like to add cameos of my friends in my writings sometimes)

@flusteredladylover @lances-wife

[swiftmitsu]

farewell boops…

the boopening has brought me closer to my followers and mutuals than ever before and im so grateful for it 💛

🌟 ​thank you to everyone that returned my boop

🌟 thank you to everyone that super booped me!

🌟 thank you to everyone that normal booped me!

🌟 thank you to everyone that evil booped me!

🌟 thank you to everyone that booped me and thought it went by unnoticed!

🌟 thank you to everyone that spam booped me!

🌟 thank you to everyone that booped me in my inbox!

🌟 thank you for allowing me to boop you!

i love each and everyone of you guys on this silly site 💫

[choicesmc]

👁️, ✨, 🐰, 🐉 For any and all of your lovely characters you'd like to share!

thank you for stopping by!! Love the prompts you chose ♥ from [this] prompt list

👁️ - How do other people perceive this oc? How close do their first assumptions come to the truth?

JIAHAO She’s what’s on the tin. Your first impression of him would be bright pink lipstick, matching leather skater skirt, ruffled white shirt, and a resting bitch face. It’s a very ‘don’t fuck around with me’ look + most of the time people correctly decipher that meaning. And it’s a fair first impression! Jia does not enjoy being pulled around at all. 

RAMS Rams comes off as rather easy-going and kind. Xe knows how to come off as ‘normal’ and appear in control which, to an extent, xe kind of is. However, it’s pretty far from the truth! Rams is very much an anxious, wrapped up mess of a person whose morals align with whatever helps xir friends in the here and now. 

✨ - Tell something that makes this oc feel happy!

FIONA  Lots of things: spending time with Gabe, knitting while listening to a podcast, roller skating, playing cards with friends. Fiona is the sort to find a little silver in pretty much anything. 

RAMS Hosting. When Rams gets to host stuff, it’s honestly kind of exhilarating for cos. You know: deciding on venue, organizing seats (if it’s something formal enough to require so), deciding on catering/menu, sending invitations, etc. Then the actual event comes around and Rams could just about faint! It’s the being surrounded by friends + family, having them appreciate xir work, and seeing the fruits of xir labor all filling cos with an unmatched warm, fuzzy feeling. (Also why cos room is almost always open lmao).  

RIN  Seeing her name on stuff. It’s basic, it’s simple, sure. But she’s went through so many names and this is the first that’s hers. When Rin sees her name either written or on her ID or literally anywhere, it’s a silent reminder of everything she’s gone through, of all the people she’s been, of everyone she’s ever met. Rin is so completely her that it’s giddy to remember that it’s a name she chose –not the one she was given and that everyday is another choice to continue being the happiest, most content, version of herself. 

🐰 - How huggable is this oc?

RIN Huggable? Her? You would be correct! She is very huggable –it’s just impossible to get one out of her. You’ve gotta be 1) very close to her (which is pretty much 1 person, Maddison) or 2) be a child in dire distress that needs immediate comfort. So you know, the odds aren’t great for the TF cast. 

JIAHAO Lmao, no. He’ll give you one, sure, but it’s not all that great. Kinda awkward and pretty brief. When it comes to comfort, Jia is more likely to rely on her words: pumping you up, giving you validation, + tearing apart whoever you want (if it’ll help). All while giving you an emotionally charged (might regret later) makeover ✨ 

🐉 - Very serious question… are they more like a dragon, or a unicorn?

Unicorns -> Rams + Fiona  Dragons -> Jia + Rin

Not completely sure why but feels very correct soo… (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

Kenzaki rolling up in Zi-O looking like he's been lying face down in the toku quarry for ten something years just letting current series film stunts over him...

[hailsatanacab]

I'll ask after that secret number 8!

I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅

Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?

———

It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.

Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.

Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 

It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 

A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.

Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.

“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”

“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.

Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.

“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”

Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 

It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!

He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—

“I’m Batman.”

The smile freezes on Danny’s face.

His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—

“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 

Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.

“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 

Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 

Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…

A little over a year. 

Just under 16 months since he escaped.

“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks

Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.

Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 

“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.

Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?

"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"

"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.

"I don't understand, why..." 

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"

"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"

It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.

But it was easier than this.

"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."

"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"

"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"

"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!

Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.

"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"

Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.

Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.

But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.

Before he... 

He really thought this would be different, you know?

He wanted to make it official.

"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."

"Danny, we are a—"

"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 

Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.

"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."

"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."

"Danny—"

"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"

"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."

Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.

He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!

The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?

Steph is chewing on her thumb. 

Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.

He likes them all.

"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."

"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."

"But you work with them and—"

"Who do I work with?"

"The Justice League."

"Yes, I do, but we—"

"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."

Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.

"Kill me."

"Danny? What do—"

"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."

"Danny..."

"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."

[pettyprocrastination]

whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!

this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!

warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her. 

So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak. 

You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work 

you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then 

nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place. 

On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after

it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him. 

but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening. 

its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail. 

Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn

its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench. 

there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency. 

when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-

all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river

Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay 

“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.” 

he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself. 

but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything

its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found. 

Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there. 

Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames. 

“We’re gonna find her, but not there.” 

So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did. 

He became a smuggler because of it. 

Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way. 

But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course. 

The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him. 

But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles 

“You think she would have wanted this for you?” 

the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence. 

“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.” 

All he can do is nod. 

It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit. 

It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live. 

Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago. 

its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo” 

when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them. 

Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands. 

He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face. 

Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity. 

“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?” 

Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be. 

But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.

“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.” 

Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again. 

“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.” 

He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples. 

“One.” 

The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun. 

“Two”

Wait. No, they both do.

“Three.” 

Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins. 

“Four.” 

Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet. 

Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?” 

Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless. 

Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.

When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same. 

She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head. 

“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”

He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun. 

“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?”