#the fact we’ll never seen this version of him ever again

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 3: Getting a Pet

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Finding a pet/Getting a pet (it was originally finding a pet, but I changed things up a bit)

Summary: You think it's time for you and Matt to get a cat.

Warnings: Fluff. Established relationship. Cats. Mentions of future children.

Word Count: 2k

A/n: This is solely based on me wanting a cat. I did have a different version of this already written, decided I didn't like it, and whipped this up in, like, two hours today. I hope you're not mad at me, but the first draft really wasn't it, so I decided to interpret the prompt differently/change it.

Read Me On AO3!

It’s been three years since Matt Murdock stumbled into your life, broken and bruised. A normal person would have run if they had seen The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen knock at their window, but not you. You invited him in and fixed him to the best of your abilities. 

Three years ago, you met the man you fell head over heels in love with. The man who broke your heart then put it back together. The man who once believed he would never love again, that he didn’t deserve it, finally allowed himself to find some peace in your arms. Comfort. Love. 

You moved in together two years ago, and you haven’t looked back since. In fact, you only seem to be moving forward. 

Since he’s been with you, he has been using you as an excuse to Foggy and Karen for why he doesn’t need a dog. He thought he would never have to worry about getting a pet ever again. Until a week ago. 

You were sitting on the couch, head resting on his chest to listen to the steady beating of his heart, when you suddenly blurted out, “I think we should get a cat.”

Suddenly, Matt didn’t have to worry about telling people why he didn’t need a dog anymore, but he had to face you, the love of his life, and talk to you about getting a cat. 

Up to that point, you hadn’t often seen him too stunned to speak, and the times you had, he was facing a greater evil—a greater evil than a cat. 

“What?” you remember him asking.

You nodded against his chest. “Dead serious,” you said, lifting your head to look up at him. You had that determined look on your face, the one that always made Matt’s defenses crumble like wet paper. He could feel it as he brushed his fingers over your soft skin, trying to gauge what you were thinking. 

“I’ve always wanted one,” you continued your reasoning, “and I think we’re ready. You know… for a fur baby.”

Because the idea of a baby was and still is very far in the future.

Matt could feel the excitement radiating off of you that night, and though he had never imagined himself as a cat person, there was no denying he was wrapped around your finger. “You really want a cat?” he asked. 

“I do,” you answered, with an almost childlike excitement.

“I just… are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, it’s a cat,” he emphasized.

“Your point being?”

“They’re… stealthy. And needy, sometimes.” That was the only argument he could come up with. 

You snorted at that. “So, they’re you,” you said, “just… smaller.”

Matt opened his mouth, closing it just as fast. You got him, fair and square. “Alright, I can respect that,” he said.

It was so serious to you that you sat up straighter to look at him. “Of course you would. Think about it. They’re independent, low-maintenance, and they purr. Plus, Foggy and Karen will forever shut up about you getting a guide dog ‘cause we’ll already have a cat,” you said.

He couldn’t possibly argue with that logic. But deep down, he knew. He knew the moment you brought a cat home, he’d be doomed. But he couldn’t say no to you.

“Okay, fine,” he caved, though the smile tugging at his lips gave him away. “Let’s get a cat.”

Fast forward a week, and you have dragged him to one of New York’s animal shelters to find a cat. Fall has fully settled over the city, the air crisp with a slight chill, and the streets lined with leaves of red, orange, and yellow. Matt’s hand is intertwined with yours as you step inside, and though he tries his best to act casual, you can feel the subtle tension in him. The smell of hay and litter toy with his heightened senses. It’s a lot all at once, but he promised that for you, he would do anything. 

This is a decision you will have to make together. So, he forces a smile when you look at him with that worried crease between your brows, and he tells you it’s okay. He’s got this. You choose to believe him. 

“This is exciting,” you murmur as a volunteer leads you through to the room where the cats are held. “We’re getting a cat!” You want to jump up and down and screech like a banshee, that’s how happy you are he said yes, even though you know he did it more for you than for himself, but if you start acting crazy now, they might never let you leave. 

“I like to say, ‘let the cat choose you’,” the volunteer says once you have reached your destination. “So, please, take your time. Also,” she turns around again, toward Matt, “if one of them tries to nibble on your cane, just tell them no.”

You swallow a giggle that threatens to escape. “Thanks,” you smile at her as she leaves, leaving you alone in a room full of… well, cats. 

You have never been closer to heaven. 

“I don’t want anyone nibbling on my cane,” Matt mutters beside you.

You shake your head, laughing. “Relax. They’re just cats.”

Cats of all shapes, sizes, and colors lounge around the room, some curled up in cozy beds, others batting lazily at toys hanging from strings. You take note of the numerous cat trees, some attached to the wall. It looks like a feline paradise. 

A few cats are eyeing you already, but most of them seem rather unimpressed. They must get a lot of potential new parents every day. 

Matt can feel your pulse quicken as you take a few steps forward, letting go of his hand to crouch down near one of the more adventurous kittens—a fluffy gray one with bright eyes.

“Hi,” you almost squeak, reaching out carefully to offer your hand. The kitten sniffs at your fingers before deciding to nuzzle into them. “Oh, you’re so cute. What’s your name?” You read the tag around his neck. “Bruno. Nice to meet you.” You’re not sure why you are telling him your name, but it seems like the right thing to do. 

You feel so warm inside, like you are taking the one step you have been wanting to take from the start. Getting a pet with the man of your dreams. Though you seem to be enjoying yourself a lot more than Matt is. 

He’s hesitant as he steps closer, folding his cane now that he is out of anyone’s eyesight, and he tilts his head slightly to listen to the kitten’s movements—the soft rustle of his fur, the tiny pitter-patter of paws on the floor, and the barely audible purring that you seem to be coaxing from him.

He can’t deny that he is a little jealous. You’re so enamored with him. If he could purr, he would.

“This was a great idea,” you say, turning to grin at Matt, who still hasn’t quite moved past the threshold of the room. You can tell he’s trying to maintain his usual composed demeanor, but his body language betrays him. 

It’s funny to see your usually so stoic boyfriend nervous and almost scared of a few tiny kittens. The smell must be overwhelming, you know, but it can’t be the only thing holding him back.

“Matt,” you hold out a hand for him to take, “come on, don’t be shy. They’re not gonna bite.”

“Maybe not bite,” he says.

“You fight crime on a nightly basis, and you’re scared of cats?”

He frowns. “I’m not scared.”

“Sure,” you say. With a smile, you take his hand in yours again, guiding him toward a small black kitten that’s been quietly observing from a perch by the window. You’re not sure why, but the little guy reminds you of him. Calm, reserved, but always alert. 

The kitten’s sleek fur gleams in the light, and when you bring Matt closer, he lets out a tiny, curious meow. The volunteer said to let the cats choose you, but you have never seen a more beautiful specimen—except for the human-cat right next to you.

“Meet potential fur baby number two,” you murmur.

You guide his hand toward the kitten.

Matt crouches down beside you, but he’s hesitant. For a second, you think he’s going to pull back, but then the kitten nuzzles right into his hand, and he stops dead in his tracks.

A soft smile spreads across Matt’s face—one of those rare, unguarded smiles that makes your heart flutter. 

“He likes you��”

He chuckles softly. “I don’t know… seems like this one might be too calm for me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Too calm? Suddenly, you want a high-maintenance cat? A second ago, you wouldn’t even touch him.”

“Just saying… might be nice to have a challenge.”

“I think we, but especially you, have enough challenges in your life,” you retort. “Maybe a calm cat is exactly what we need.”

He doesn’t respond, just keeps stroking the kitten’s fur as he curls up even more. Matt has something about you that puts both humans and cats at ease, you notice. The same thing that makes you want to curl up in his arms is making this tiny kitten trust him after not even a minute together. You watch the scene unfold, your heart swelling with affection. He’s so good at this.

You join in eventually. The kitten doesn’t shy away; he seems oddly content with the two of you already.

“So, what do you think?” you ask softly after a moment.

Matt tilts his head, considering, and for a second, you wonder if he’s really thinking about the question or if he’s just stalling. But then, he lets out a quiet sigh and says, “I don’t know… what do you think?”

You smile. He’s been through so much, been so used to carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Something as simple as getting a pet—something that brings warmth and comfort—might feel strange to him. 

You remember how it was when you started growing closer. When he asked you to move in with him. When he told you he loved you after you told him first, afraid you might still slip away from him as most people in his life have. Dealing with something small and fragile scares him. Having something to look after and care for scares him. Maybe that’s why you haven’t talked about children yet; he’s scared of making a mistake, of hurting the people he loves and has sworn to protect. But that’s not who Matt Murdock is to anyone but himself.

“I think,” you say, slipping your arm through his and leaning your head against his shoulder, “that you deserve everything good in your life. That’s why you should decide.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers still brushing through the kitten’s fur. Finally, he nods, and the smile on his face turns just a little softer, a little more real.

“I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I love you too.”

The kitten meows. His collar says ‘Pumpkin’, and that is oddly on the nose, you think. The two of you, finding a cat in October, and his name is Pumpkin. 

Matt chuckles. “Okay, I heard that.” And then, turning toward you, he says, “Let’s take him home.”

Your face lights up. “Yeah?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, I already have the best thing I could have in the world, right here,” his chin tips toward you, “but… you’re right. We could use a little calm in our life.”

You press a kiss on his shoulder. “Then let’s do this. Let’s take him home.”

Pumpkin. 

Pumpkin Murdock. 

That doesn’t sound so bad. Now all you need is his last name, too. 

Soon.

Very soon. 

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @winkev1 @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @xnatyx @zomtart @ethereal-blaze @littleagxs @lucienofthelakes @steve-chandler

[kats-kradle]

Hey! Journeying over from rereading your fics to ask you some Poirot questions! : ) Had you already liked Poirot prior to 2017’s Murder on the Orient Express? And did you immediately fall in love with Bouc in the first film or did it take until Death on the Nile?

Hi!! I love talking about Poirot!! Buckle up😂😂

First off I would like to say that it made my day to see that not only did you read my fics but you reread them!! And then you actually came here to talk to me!! You’re the first person who’s actually done that so it really made my day. 

Also: I apologize in advance. When I start talking about Poirot I tend to launch into rants and I… may have done that here so I will say now in case you don’t make it to the end that I would love to hear your thoughts about the movies or anything else Poirot related! Did you know about Poirot before the movie? What are your thoughts about Bouc?

To answer your questions, I guess I could say that technically I liked Poirot before watching the movie. I actually had never heard about Poirot until the movie came out, and one of my sister’s friends took her to see it and then leant her the book. I stole it and read it in almost one night and ever since then have been absolutely enthralled by Agatha Christie! I own almost all of the Poirot books and have been trying to branch out and sample her other writings, but I keep coming back to Poirot. 

By the time Death on the Nile came out I forgot the Bouc was a character who existed because I hadn’t seen MotOE since it came out in 2017. When I saw him, I did remember that he’d been in the last movie, and was absolutely delighted that they were going to turn him into the Hastings of the movies (especially because he was so happy and full of life😭) which of course we all know what happened with that and now that I’ve recovered from my shock and denial I can take a step back and acknowledge it was a FANTASTIC choice to kill him, and to do it in such a shocking way—but also, I’m also not a a fan of how much Kenneth Branagh deviated from the source material by doing that. 

Adding Bouc to the movie was a choice that made sense, if Kenneth Branagh is going for a Poirot Cinematic Universe. People expect a sidekick, and in stories where the cast has to change every movie, it’s nice for the audience to have a familiar face other than the main detective. However, I also think Kenneth Branagh shot himself in the foot by shooting Bouc in the neck, because he went out of his way to add and establish Bouc as a reoccurring character, just to kill him off in the second movie. I think the audience will now have more difficulty connecting with the side characters in the future since they’ve had two movies with the same character, as a opposed to already being used to the characters changing every movie. But then again, I’m still in denial. Along with this, it’s setting up the next movie to have a distinctly dark tone.

Well, now I’ve gotten started on the topic of Poirot and I can’t stop😂😂😂 Enjoy my decent into madness.

Another way that dear Kenny boy shot himself in the foot is with the iconic mustache. His mustaches in MotOE were luscious and beautiful, despite the critic they received. Branagh understood that Poirot has impressive mustaches that are quite a spectacle to behold, even if the rest of the world can only picture the measly little mustache that David Suchet displays in his version of Poirot (don’t get me wrong I love those adaptations but just… the mustache is all wrong. And David Suchet Poirot is a subject for a different time or we’ll be here forever😂😂). In DotN, for some reason he felt the need to give the mustaches a tragic backstory????? Narratively, I guess it’s a nice bookend and theme to the movie as a whole. BUT HE FELT THE NEED TO GIVE THE MUSTACHES A TRAGIC BACKSTORY????????????? Despite the fact that in DotN the mustaches aren’t actually long enough anymore to cover up the scaring shown at the beginning, HAIR DOESNT GROW ON SCAR TISSUE!!!! It just doesn’t make sense😭 Along with that, now he’s destroyed the main characteristic of Poirot, his trademark. Poirot is quite vain about his mustaches and even when he wears a fake one in Curtain (for reasons that I won’t spoil but if you know you know) Hastings only finds out at the end of the book, and Poirot’s manservant treats the subject with delicacy since the mustaches were such a sensitive subject to Poirot. 

While I’m STILL talking about Poirot (forgive my rant I can’t stop) I’m going to take the opportunity to mention the stark difference in quality between MotOE and DotN. I’ve now seen both of these movies multiple times and back to back. Overall, I think MotOE is much better. DotN uses a lot of green screen, and it’s pretty obvious and creates for some flat feeling backgrounds. For MotOE, they took shots of the mountains and overlayed the train on, instead of all CGI. Now, I don’t know for sure how much of each movie and which parts use CGI; it could be that MotOE uses more CGI and I just have a bad eye for spotting it. It was just my impression that the backgrounds in DotN were severely lacking. 

And let’s talk about the music. MotOE delivers and excellent score that makes you feel a wide variety of emotions, and they use the theme of repetition well in The Armstrong Case. For me, it had just reached the point in the movie where the theme could have started to be annoying; but the. they used it magnificently when Poirot was explaining the murder, and the simple and relentless, already melancholy melody turned into something truly heartbreaking, turning a scene of twelve people stabbing a man to death into something poetic. 10/10 one of the best uses of music and one of the best scenes ever, in my opinion. DotN, besides the songs sung by the talented Sophie Okonedo as Salome Otterbourne, has no notable music to take away from the movie, besides the absolutely grating (I don’t know what it’s called but it goes like. DUN DUN. DUUUN! DUN DUN. DUUUN! I think if you search Death on the Nile on YouTube you’ll find the song titled the same by Patrick Doyle). I got tired of hearing that by the third time it played, and my annoyance with it was one of the main things that I took away from the movie. 

AND ANOTHER THING both movies took creative liberties with the stories, but one of the creative liberties I did not like about DotN was how explicit they made it. Between that dance floor scene and the scene at the tomb… when I go to see a movie that’s rated PG-13 I like to feel comfortable seeing it with my father and not feel the need to slam my hands over my little sister’s ears. Especially when I want to slam them over my ears instead😭

All this being said I’m 100% going to go see a Haunting in Venice, but not because I’m expecting it to be good. I’d just like more fuel for my rants. I didn’t even get touch upon what an amazing actor Tom Bateman is and how I’m mad that he only plays serial killer roles outside of Bouc. 

Anyways I hope that answers your questions😅 thank you for your ask, and congratulations if you made it this far. It did truly make my day to see the phrase “rereading” in association with my fics, and I feel as if you were some curious passerby on the street who I started passionately and somewhat aggressively ranting at. I apologize. Also I took a break from ranting to check out your blog and you’ve got a great curation of posts. Good luck getting rid of me now. Prepare to see me in your notifications. Sorry for the essay.

[true-blue-sonic]

What is even the point of Silver living in the future? It’s not his future anymore and he has no friends or family there. There’s nothing for him there. Now that he has precognition he should just live in Sonic’s time and get visions of disasters. 

Seriously there’s no point in his future or time travel. We’ll never see it, Silver only cares about the state of it and he can only go to Sonic’s time anyway.

I find this an interesting question myself. The best answer I can give as to why Silver keeps returning to the future is that him being from the future is "his thing", just like how having PK is "his thing". It's just something very much intertwined with his character; basically every bio he has makes mention of it, for example. But I also agree with the notion that him being from the future opens up some issues. I've seen statements that it is difficult to make Silver relevant if he must travel to the past every time, for example, which I don't disagree with (but for me, the same could then be said about Blaze and the Sol Dimension or Knuckles and the Master Emerald). Adding to that, I do not believe we know for certain if its state is generally 'destroyed' or 'saved' and if Silver grew up in a destroyed world (said in multiple bios) or a good one (I'd argue that is implied in Rivals 1, with Eggman Nega almost certainly having stolen the camera from someone else and Onyx Island being both a paradise and having developed industry on it that I do not believe Angel Island currently has). Furthermore, the Rivals games are also not very consistent to me about if the future has actually gotten rewritten or not (but it tentatively seems to lean that way, since Silver says at the end of Rivals 2 he hopes the new future is a happy one), and we legit just do not know how its alleged destruction goes. Does Silver indeed intervene before something bad can happen, or does the future actively turn bad before his very eyes and he goes back in time to undo that again? I am truly not certain if there's ever been a clear-cut answer from a credible source, though I am pretty sure there's multiple conflicting explanations from non-credible ones... but that really doesn't help make things clear. And lastly, we also do not know what he has in his own era when it comes to friends and family, nor is it ever clearly shown or said how he time-travels in any game other than '06. With all that combined I can see why having him return again and again gets... well, confusing, haha!

In that regard, I also feel there is merit in the idea of him just staying for good in the past. His friends are there, it's consistently where the action happens anyway, and Team Sonic Racing indeed hints at him having a sense of precognition. The Japanese version actually dives into it more, with Silver asking himself at the very end when Eggman's battleship is going down if that is what was causing his bad/nagging feelings. Considering he was necessary there to help carry people and racecars off it to safety, it does imply to me that that scene might have intended to show it as a genuine skill of his. Shame the English version cuts that moment out entirely. So yeah, the point of Silver being in the future is, to the best of my explanations, legit just the fact that's how he has been conceptualised, making it "his thing". But it does cause confusions for me, because of how much there is not clearly explained and all the contradictory information out there from non-game sources. I think having Silver stay in the past for good could make for a nice move on Sega's part, assuming it is within his own decisions (so not forced by A ThingTM that is entirely unexplained to us and removes all his agency, for example). I think it'd be a nice resolution for Silver to see his heart lays in the past, and he can still protect his own world from there too!

[raekensarcher]

tagged by @thiamsxbitch ,, thank u love :)

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to Ao3. (Sort by date posted.) If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have.

all fics completed aside from all about control :p

All the Love we Unraveled and the Life I Gave Away | Thiam

The exhaustion goes bone deep. Skin feeling akin to something like a livewire, feeling the clothes clinging to his skin with every step he takes. Swallows what feels like bile rising in the back of his throat, ignoring the itch of a scream clawing its way through his chest. Begging to be released, let out any tension that's been growing under his skin since Scott had called him.

Tell me That we’ll be Just Fine (Even When I Lose my Mind) | Thiam

Theo has, objectively, made a lot of stupid choices in his life. Throw a dart, you'll hit one.

This, though, this might actually take the cake on the list of Dumbest fucking things Theo Raeken has ever done. Which is no small feat, all things considered.

It takes all of three seconds after Theo tells Nolan to run, watching him stumble across the dirt and broken tree limbs before his eyes slide over to the unconscious beta on the ground and it finally registers in his brain what he just did. He just managed to effectively ruin any chance of getting out of this fucking zoo and away from these hunters at a quick pace, all because he was saving Liam's stupid ass, again.

Close my eyes, Fantasize, Three Clicks and I’m Home | Thiam

He’s not sure when it started; when this pull between he and Liam became a thing. If he had to pinpoint the exact moment, and he’s just spitballing here, it might have to be when he was pulled from hell.

‘Cause everyone’s growing, and everyone’s healthy. (I’m terrified that I might never have met me) | Thiam

When he starts crawling his way up through the earth, hands grasping for purchase on the dirt surrounding him, he thinks it’s a more fucked up version of the nightmare he’s been living in for the last few months. Years? It feels like a lifetime. Endless loops of having his sister's heart ripped out of his chest, over and over and over again. It’s hard to remember.

Of Gods and Monsters | Thiam

The question comes so far out of left field that it manages to render Theo speechless, spoonful of melting ice cream lifted halfway to his open mouth as he stares at the beta across from him with some mix between shock and confusion.

Liam takes his reaction in stride, continuing to eat his own ice cream, completely unbothered by the fact that he just managed to hit some kind of pause button inside of Theo’s brain. Theo thinks if it were any other situation the beta might have even made a joke about it, but the question wasn’t laced with any humor, just pure curiosity.

I’m here, right here, wishing I could be there for you. | Thiam

In hindsight, Liam probably should have seen how this was not going to go his way. Call him an optimist. He had maybe, dumbly, hoped that Theo would pull his head out of his ass long enough to appreciate the fact that he was valued and not, I don't know, wanted dead in the middle of the preserve? It was wishful thinking on Liam’s part.

“I’m just saying, I'm a little bit sick of your shit.”

Crimson Stained Hands | Implied Thiam , Theo centric

Theo’s never been able to put it into words, this weight that sits so heavily on his chest that sometimes he gets sharp pains that shoot through his veins. He thinks it might be some kind of punishment, though he’s not sure which sin caused this, which sin keeps him in constant torment. It’s a long list, some days it seems like it’s one that’s never going to end.

It’s like the universe has left me without a place to go | Thiam

"You're a hard man to find these days."

Theo hums from his place on the tailgate, legs swinging slowly back and forth, his eyes trained on something in the distance, not fully there.

Liam's feet stay planted where they are, eyes trained on the way Theo's hands have tightened their hold on the metal surface of the tailgate at the sound of Liam's voice. He tries not to think too hard on it, knows it probably has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the fact that Theo has been avoiding him and life itself for the last three weeks.

All About Control | Thiam

There’s been a shadow following Theo around since he was Nine years old, a dark and looming thing that sits in his peripheral vision, a constant and threatening reminder of where he came from. Of what he can be brought back to. Some days it looks a lot like the Dread Doctors, more specifically the Surgeon. The shadow will shift and morph into a figure that resembles something from his worst memories, the ones he wishes were ripped out of him the way everything else was. Other days it morphs into something smaller, something dripping with icy ravine water, the smell of dirt and mud coming with it.

It could end in burning flames or paradise | Thiam

Theo is alive.

At least, most days he’s pretty sure he is. He feels the blood flowing under his skin, feels the stolen heart thudding against his ribs, feels the way his pulse jumps when Liam speaks in the tone he seems to solely reserve for him and him only.

tagging @stitchkiss :p

[purble-gaymer]

THOSE LAST COUPLE CHAPTERS HIT HARD

I just got caught up on your fic and I always oh so love the interactions between the three knight bros. I also adored how you wrote the interactions between Meta Knight and Dedede. I'm a huge fan of redededemption arc and it's why in my hcs I count (an altered version of) the anime as a precursor to the games. I really think that anime Dedede gets a little more hate than he should. He's selfish and a jerk but he's been like that in the games too. I don't like it when people characterize anime Dedede as truly evil and undeserving of redemption because he's meant to be seen more as downright childlike to a fault, even having fits and not being able to read. He's more negligent of real danger even when he's the one causing it than he is downright cruel, and that was proven in the episode where he really thought Kirby died (which was actually a pretty fucked up thing to pull imo). My point is that I think that's exactly how Meta Knight sees him in the anime. Bothersome, spoiled, and a conductor for events that become far more serious than he ever thinks they are. Truly, Dedede has no idea what he's up against with Nightmare, and Meta Knight doesn't hold him responsible for that. He's just there to make sure nothing goes too wrong and shrugs off the childlike berating Dedede gives him afterwards. But for all of that Dedede never stays mad at Meta Knight, and likewise Meta Knight looks out for Dedede in a way by also making sure his exploits don't go out of hand and harm him (since he knows Dedede is playing with fire when it comes to the monsters). Even for the flawed parts of anime Dedede's characterization he's just an immature king who isn't actually that much of a feal threat, just like in the games -- and Meta Knight is his loyal knight who puts up with his antics. Sorry for the drabble but again my point is I just felt like you nailed their interactions PERFECTLY. I can absolutely see in your writing the potential for how their friendship would grow overtime. All the characters really are just silly fellas, reading them gives off those same vibes from the anime. Anyway, I just wanted to compliment you over that .o.

uwhjg. thank you !!😭 dedede has always been a fun character to write whether it’s a serious scene or a silly one, and i wanted to set them on the same course they take in the games. of course, it’ll still be a long time before everyone sets aside their differences enough to become friends, but it’s a start. matching the characterization of the show while doing everything i wanted to was a challenge, but it’s good to hear it paid off! dedede is misled and inexperienced, but he’s still dedede. there are inklings of the character we know today, it’ll just take time for him to grow from his original characterization. like, it takes until triple deluxe for kirby and dedede to really work together. now that nightmare’s gone, it’ll probably follow a similar course.

i’ve had one or two people mention leading up to 93 that not a lot of writers look at mk & ddd’s relationship in too much depth, and i agree. i didn’t get into is as much as i would’ve liked to, but i tried to include it whenever i could because they’re so interesting. you see them hanging out like friends but you also see them constantly denying the other’s wishes and fighting about it later. not to mention the whole ‘let’s blow up the halberd’ debacle. we’ll talk about that another day. but to my original point, dedede gets shelved a lot in favor of developing other characters and it’s a shame. he’d be just as important after nme’s destruction. he’s still got kirby to deal with, after all. it’s not like he and meta knight never interact, either. i’ve inserted a lot of scenes but there are plenty of times mk just shows up in the throne room to ask about something. even things like mk helping dedede with his plan to get kirby into the grand prix in 35/36 are suggested by the fact dedede and escargoon are in the storage room with him when he talks to kirby. these scenes are really only baseless in episodes where the knights don’t appear at all (i’m pretty sure they aren’t actually in 93).

i’d like to say dedede starts to realize just how serious things are after 89 because of the whole…incident with mk, but because that didn’t really happen, it’s not reflected in the show. maybe it’s more in the back of his mind, sort of a ‘no, that can’t be right!’ thought that he can’t quite dismiss. by the time the destroya come along, he just goes along with things because he wants to stop the attack. he certainly understands the danger once they’re at there fortress, so he has to have realized at some point. i think meta knight also starts to gain a level of respect for him after my made-up 89 epilogue, if only because he brought him back to sword and blade to make sure he was safe after. they wouldn’t have fought so openly in 93 if it were the beginning of the show—dedede might’ve been a little upset, but what’s it matter? meta knight is just another soldier under his lead. they’ve been through a lot by the end, and they’re going to go through more.

i wish the show gave them more interactions. i think that’s part of the problem. all you really see of them is mk asking questions from time to time, and it doesn’t establish anything beyond their usual fronts. it feels uninteresting and surface-level. but there’s so much more there that can be brought out simply by removing them from the situation and letting them talk on their own.

shit i just thought of something so i’m gonna talk a little more—the opening of 60 is sort of a fun example. their interaction is very short, but shows a lot. dedede and escargoon come into the courtyard with their destroyed car, and dedede shouts for meta knight to get down there and help. sure, it can be read as a nothing command, but it’s also a declaration of ‘this is serious, we need /your/ help because i know you know what you’re doing.’ he doesn’t call for the waddle dees to line up at the gate and prepare to battle, he calls for meta knight’s help specifically. (i’m pretty sure sirica asks about star warriors before blasting them, but i’m not sure she ever says mk’s name. they probably don’t know she’s actively looking for him at this point.)

i wanted to express everyone as having room to change, because that’s part of what the series is about. it’s about love and it’s about change, and even if the anime isn’t so bubbly bright and happy as the games, the anime is about that, too. they all have their own lives and they all have places they’re going, even if we don’t get to see what happens after they get home to dreamland. these aren’t static characters, as simple as they seem. they have history, they’re layered, and yes, they are very, very silly. letting that potential go ignored would be a crime, wouldn’t it?

[nehswritesstuffs]

Double-Date from Hell

Y’all ever think of something so hilarious that you HAVE to write it, and then it just spirals out of control? Yeah, this is it.

8941 words; I’ve seen versions of this general joke going around and it’s still pretty funny in my brain so please just humor me; I guess it’s a Modern AU w/No Devil Fruits, but Brook is still a skeleton and Minks and Fish-men exist… somehow…? idk; SO MANY PEOPLE ARE ALIVE IN THIS AU THAT SHOULDN’T BE but you know what this is my story too damn bad I mean it’s already set in a quasi-Midwest metro; this took me so long to write because I kept cracking the fck up and I’m sure you’ll be able to tell where

Double-Date from Hell; Law has a new girlfriend. Cora-san’s got a hot date. Nami’s shagging a doctor. Things might be easier if Bell-mère had mentioned to her daughters she’s actually bi before she reconnected with an old flame. [modern!AU, LawNa, Bellazón]

Shuffling into the kitchen, Law blearily went into the fridge and began to poke around almost absentmindedly, hunger the only reason as to why he was currently existing on the mortal plane. What had supposed to be a twelve-hour shift in Logue Town General’s emergency room—as a favor, no less!—had turned into a twenty thanks to the perfect storm of call-offs and reckless pieces of bullshit trying to copy a social media trend. It reminded him of why he never wanted to stay down in Emergency full-time—fuck… doing clinicals there had been bad enough…

“Oh, there’s the sleepy-head!” Law jumped at the sudden confirmation that his father was in the room as well. He took a container filled with leftover noodles and popped it in the microwave oven with a bit more aggression than was necessary. “Rough night?”

“I remember when social media was used to share pictures of cats with poorly-spelled captions and complain about the accuracy of the fantasy book-to-movie pipeline, not to show off doing handstands in dangerous places and getting high off lip balm.” He glanced at his father to see he was dressed rather nice—that was a risk, considering how clumsy the older man was—though most things were better than his current pajama-pants-no-shirt-tousled-bedhead-at-four-in-the-afternoon look. “Cora-san, you know what happens when you wear a tie.”

“I know, I know, but I need to look nice tonight. What do you think?”

“That you look like a man about to turn forty who can’t so much as wear a tie without catching it on something every five minutes.”

“Well, yeah, but the shirt’s nice, right?”

An extremely pale pink with a red heart pattern; the tie was black, though his trousers were white.

“It’s… you.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” The microwave oven beeped at Law and he took the container out to stir. “Probably won’t be back until late, if I’m back at all tonight, so don’t worry if I’m not in.”

Law stopped mid-stir and stared at Cora. “Why would you both be alright, but also not come home tonight?”

“What, you can’t tell?! Your old man’s got a hot date!”

The silence that fell over the kitchen was simply unbearable. Law did not currently have the reserve mana to process that the grinning goofball he referred to as his foster father—foster roommate, on particularly irritating days—had anything even close to a potential sexual encounter lined up. He put the noodles back in the microwave oven and turned it on again.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” he grumbled. “You know I don’t care what you do—we’re both adults now.”

“Oh, come on… you aren’t even the least bit happy for me?”

“I can’t legally be happy until I get at least six cups of coffee and these noodles in me, then we’ll talk.”

“Fine, fine; spoilsport.” Cora sat at the table and pouted, watching his son put together some coffee. He knew he was tired when he brought a mug of it over, as well as the noodles still in the container he heated them up in. “It’s not like I’m an old man—can’t I take inspiration from the fact my son got himself a cute girlfriend?”

“You’ve never met her, so there’s nothing to get inspired from,” Law replied dully. He twirled some of the long pasta on his fork and scowled. “No, this is not an offer for you to meet her either. I want to make sure of this one before that happens.”

“You make it sound like I’m embarrassing.”

“You picked me up from school in clown makeup.”

“It wasn’t that bad…”

“Multiple times.”

“It kept things interesting.”

“Kids recovering from near-terminal illness don’t exactly enjoy being interesting.”

“The assholes that were scared of clowns never bothered you after that.”

“Okay, that I’ll give you.” Law shoved more pasta in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “You know, I think I’ll go out tonight too—bound to be something going on.”

“There you go,” Cora beamed. “Here we are: a couple of young stallions, ready to make the night theirs!”

“Never again say those words in that order again, by all that is good in this world.”

“Spoilsport,” Cora scowled. A devilish grin then flashed across his face. “We should double-date!”

That too was a resounding, firm no.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was the generally-accepted consensus that there was no party like a Straw Hat party.

They weren’t all rowdy affairs that got the cops called at two in the morning—they reserved those for when the on-duty officers were ones likely to just turn the music down and bring their own drinks—but it was always the collection of people who were there that boggled Law’s mind. He had only started attending such shindigs recently after a weird series of events led to him pulling the charismatic teen out of the bay and helping make sure he was still alive. Luffy had declared them friends and that he now had an obligation to hang out, which would have been a one-and-done thing if it wasn’t for the people he collected in the nearly-rural house hidden amongst trees and actual property.

The East Blue kendo and archery champions? A world-class chef? A teenaged medical prodigy? The preeminent Void Century historian turning academia on its head? One of the most sought-after mechanical engineers in the world who also moonlighted in architecture? A living rock music legend? The man that kept literally all the trains in the region running smoothly? That didn’t even get into the kid’s brothers, or people outside of his innermost circle…

…and it certainly didn’t get into Nami.

He had originally begun talking to the redhead after observing her at that first party he attended. She was very level-headed—especially compared to Luffy despite that not meaning much—and knew precisely the situation they had going. It was the modern equivalent of the Enlightenment salon, where people got together and exchanged ideas and made changes happen. It was a counterculture hotbed with significantly fewer hard drugs and way more bellyflop competitions between people who couldn’t swim in the backyard’s in-ground pool. It was the next generation figuring shit out, getting ready to usher in a new age. Except, not only did the weather-and-surveying whiz keep everything running, it was very easy to say that she was the brains of the entire operation, making Luffy’s natural charm work for something. The next thing he knew they were chatting amiably, then kissing, and—after a considerable blackout—woke up very naked in bed with her the next morning.

It was a little awkward as they put everything together after that. They both thought the other was older than they really were (he thought her only a couple years younger than him instead of the actual six, and she thought he was well into his thirties (to be fair, he did say he was an actual surgeon while flirting)), and there was the wolf whistles that came out of some of the other Straw Hats as they went down to breakfast, but they settled into something… comfortable after that. The “crew” generally accepted him and he found their antics… tolerable, he guessed, especially considering what putting up with them meant for his love life…

“Oi! Witch! We need you to stop sucking geriatric face for two minutes and rein in Luffy!”

Nami groaned into Law’s mouth in frustration before breaking the kiss to glare at Zoro from across the large, open-concept living room that thankfully only contained the main Straw Hats crew aside from the man beneath her. Law knew to not remove his hands from her waist and rear, else she get pressured into something more involved. “What happened to someone saying he could handle him?”

All she got in response was a one-eyed glare.

“If she’s not back in two minutes like you said, Roronoa-ya, I will make you regret that age comment,” Law warned, voice dripping in sarcasm. Zoro flipped him his middle finger, which he returned.

“Boys, behave,” Nami sighed as she left the room. Law took it as his opportunity to see if there was any food available yet, shuffling over to the kitchen island where Sanji was working. A mug of coffee was already waiting for him as he sat down and watched the blond at work.

“Thanks,” he muttered, drinking the coffee gratefully.

“Just keep her happy,” Sanji replied. He and Law were in a tenuous sort of agreement, both men recognizing they were from the same Blue from the moment they met. Neither of them talked about it much, but it was clear that they were both in the East because it was not the North, and that was all they needed.

“If not, then you know it won’t be from lack of effort on my end.”

“True. Oh, Nami-swan told me the other day you don’t eat bread. Is it a gluten thing, or…?”

“Nah—just don’t like it. I physically can eat it, but just haven’t wanted to for a while now.”

“Not since home?”

“Something like that.”

“Okay, good, because I remember you eating breaded things the last few times you were over, but I have a special coating I can use if it’s a gluten issue.”

“Nope—just a preference.” Law sipped his coffee and watched the other man work, his hands nimble as he prepped and cooked. It reminded him of himself at his own craft, in a way, mesmerizing him until he felt a pair of arms warp around his midsection from behind. “Luffy tamed?”

“For the time being,” Nami murmured in his ear. “He’s going to be a handful next week when his brothers are over.”

“Not entirely sure how you do it,” he admitted. “Then again, I don’t know how any of you do it.”

“Luff just has that magnetism, you know?” Sanji chuckled. “When we’re all together, it’s because he knows we need to be in order to move forward. It’s why we’ve even got old-timers with us, as you know.”

“Nami, your friends are childish.”

“People wonder why I don’t date boys,” she replied. “That would just set both parties up for disappointment.”

“How true your words are, Nami-swan,” Sanji crooned. “We are all but mere amateurs compared to your beauty and grace. The fact you decide to honor us with your presence is more than we deserve.”

Fuck… to be that idiotically horny again. Law tried to remember the last time he said anything as stupid as the heart-eyed cook and, to be honest, couldn’t remember anything of the like. Seas… was he really that old…? No, he decided… just… busy during those years. He would take busy… as though busy was having an impact on him now…

“Sanji-kun,” Nami said sweetly, “I’m going to bring Torao upstairs for a little discussion before dinner, if that’s alright with you.”

“As you wish, Nami-swa~a~n,” the blond swooned. He blew her a kiss as she winked and pulled Law onto his feet.

This place was so fucking weird.

Heading up the stairs, Law silently followed Nami as she led him through the house he was already strikingly familiar with. They slipped into her room and she locked the door behind them. Finally—peace and quiet.

“Don’t you think you were a little rough on Blackleg-ya?” he asked as she unbuttoned his shirt. “I only meant it as a joke…”

“Don’t you worry about Sanji-kun,” she hummed, pressing kisses along his neck and collarbone as her fingers went over his toned abdomen. She guided him down to his knees before sitting on the edge of the mattress. With his hat long-forgotten in the living room, she was able to gently card her fingers through his fluffy hair as he turned his attention to her legs. He gently massaged her calves with his expert hands, wandering up her thighs. He went under the hem of her skirt and his eyebrows rose at what he discovered.

“Nothing…?” he smirked. “Naughty.” He lifted her leg to hook her knee on his shoulder before slowly tracing a line of his own kisses down her inner thigh and towards her hot, wet core. Hiking her skirt a bit higher, she let her other leg fall a bit more to the side, opening up for him. He lapped at her experimentally, smiling smugly at the noise she made.

“Fuck me good, Law-kun,” she ordered. “Make him hear me scream.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was quarter past four in the morning before Law actually left the house at 1000 Sunny Road, dragging his ass into his car and wishing it was quieter as he pulled away. The only consolations to his pre-dawn walk of shame was that he slipped out when all the other Straw Hats sans Nami were asleep and that he could still taste his girlfriend the entire drive back. She had seen him out after some additional, varied rounds in her bedroom, kissing him through the open car window.

“Don’t be a stranger now,” she had smirked. Fuck… she had him on a leash and they both knew it. Her taste had almost faded by the time he pulled into the driveway at his dad’s. He killed the engine and leaned back against the seat—a few hours of sleep and he could be back into something of a normal rhythm for when he went on day shifts the following week. It was all he could do to haul himself out the car and into the house, blaming his exhaustion on the twenty hour ER shift from hell messing with him and not his girlfriend fucking his brains out.

As Law walked through the dimly-lit house, he heard a snore come from the living room. He took a peek and saw Cora-san laying on the floor again, having passed out after some sort of fall. Again. Law hefted the other man onto his shoulder and helped him up the stairs to the main bedroom, where he deposited him on the mattress with little fanfare.

Wait a second… were those bite marks…? He looked closer at the bit of Cora-san’s chest that was exposed—buttons undone while his tie hung loose around his neck—and sure as shit, there were bite marks and smeared lipstick on both his chest and neck. It was a burnt-orange, which was definitely not a color that was in the house, lending credence to the “hot date” theory as much as Law shuddered at the thought.

He left a container of salve on the nightstand and made sure the other man was at least fully on the bed before going to sleep himself—with any luck, he wouldn’t have to hear a thing about the date and they continue on with their lives in peace. The less he could think about his father and sex, the better things were going to be.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“So… this old man you’re fucking… he at least cute in some weird geriatric way?”

“Ugh, what has Usopp been telling you?” Nami groaned. Her sister Nojiko chuckled at her from across the table, drinking her tea smugly. One of her rare mornings home and she was already being grilled. It was too early for this shit. “I’m not fucking an old man. He is in his twenties, thank you.”

“Turning thirty next month, is he?”

“He is twenty-six, for your information. He just looks a little rough because he’s got tattoos and is already a surgeon. Med school, clinical rotations, and residency are all vampires.”

“Sounds fishy to me,” Nojiko frowned. “I can’t be worrying after both you and Bell-mère now.”

“Bell-mère is a lesbian who just started reconnecting with an old flame from her Marine days,” Nami reasoned. “The circumstances are completely different.”

“You keep telling yourself that, sis,” Nojiko teased. “I still have on great confidence that he’s older than dirt, and that’s despite the fact you hang out with a man so old he’s a skeleton.”

“I am going to kill Usopp!”

“It wasn’t Usopp…”

“Who the fuck are you talking to behind my back?!”

It was then that their adoptive mother shuffled into the room, still half-asleep from the looks of things.

“I was woken by the sound of mockery; show me the object of ridicule,” Bell-mère grunted. She looked at her daughters and knew instantly what was going on. “We calling out the Old Man Fucker for what she is?”

“BELL-MÈRE!”

“Honey, if you’re planning on becoming a young widow, then at least make sure he’s loaded first,” Bell-mère said, unfazed by her youngest’s ire. She poked her head in the refrigerator and frowned. “Nojiko, sweetie, did you get more milk?”

“Haven’t been to the store yet,” her elder daughter said idly. “Will take care of it on my way back from work.”

“Since we’re currently in the habit of wanting to know about each other’s love lives,” Nami growled through grit teeth, “how’s Cora? That was your date’s name from when you went out the other night, eh?”

“That tongue still knows its way around a clit, let me tell you,” Bell-mère grinned devilishly. Both her daughters grew pale at the admission and immediately excused themselves from the table, neither in the mood for the conversation to go from zero to a hundred in less than a sentence.

Fine—ask about details, then run away at the details. Bell-mère chomped on dry cereal and wondered how she got two prudes for daughters.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Please don’t embarrass me more than they already do,” Law warned. He had his three best friends piled into his sensible, bright yellow crossover—Polar Tang—in the middle of making the huge mistake of driving them to the Straw Hats’ lair on a Saturday morning. They were already on the freeway, headed from the city towards the outer suburbs.

“We get it, we get it: you’re in it for the tight-ass pussy,” Shachi scoffed from the back seat. Penguin hit his shoulder in jest.

“If he was in it for just pussy, he wouldn’t be bringing us to the weirdo, sus-as-fuck party house in the middle of buttfuck-nowhere he goes to get said pussy in,” the other backseat gremlin said, tone rather matter-of-fact. “We’re a nurse and a couple of techs—how would we be embarrassing to a surgeon?”

“By talking about pussy the entire time,” Bepo stated flatly. He looked at Law and saw his grip on the steering wheel was unusually clenched. “Do you want me to drive?”

“No… I just need to remember this conversation for the next time I get asked why those two don’t just bite the bullet and get full nursing degrees instead of being the most overqualified nursing techs in the East Blue.”

“This,” Shachi said, pointing at himself with the first two fingers on both hands, “being able to sign off on patient care-related shit, would be dangerous and you know it.”

“It’s best for everyone involved that we stay Bepo’s gofers, because that makes us available as your gofers, and if we suddenly have to worry about shit like responsibilities, then where would you be?”

“Able to have competence on all my shifts?” Law snarked.

While tuning out the indignant protests in the back seat, Law turned off the freeway and headed towards Foosha Township, where Sunny Road was located. It was generally a tranquil road, with clusters of houses now and then to breakup wooded areas and the occasional farm. The car was thankfully quiet as he turned down a wooded drive, with Penguin breaking the silence as the conspicuously large house came into view.

“Law? Is this Straw Hat kid, like, loaded?”

“I don’t ask, so you don’t ask,” Law sighed. He parked the car on the front lawn next to Franky’s turquoise muscle car and turned to fully glare at the hooligans in the backseat. “Strawhat-ya’s not fully legit, but I don’t think he’s technically breaking any laws, and the cops here like him for some reason, so don’t fuck it up.”

“I thought you said the kid’s nineteen,” Penguin frowned. “How are you not wholly-legit at nineteen?!”

“Like I said: don’t ask.” Law then unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the Tang, getting some cloth shopping bags and his backpack from the trunk before heading around to the back of the house. It was just Luffy and his brothers there, all three splashing about in the shallow end of the pool while wearing arm floaties and inner tubes.

“TORAO!” Luffy squealed in delight. He jumped out of the pool and ran towards the surgeon—floatation devices and all—who got a sopping wet hug whether he liked it or not. “I was hoping that you’d come over today! Ace and Sabo are here! And Auncle Iva’s coming later! Grunkle Rayleigh can’t though because Grauntie Shakky made him promise something, and…”

“Strawhat-ya, I want you to meet the friends I was telling you about,” Law said, turning so that Luffy could get a good look at them. “That’s Penguin and Shachi, they’re nursing techs on my floor, and Bepo there’s one of the floor and hospital’s best charge nurses. We’ve known each other for ages.”

“Any friend of Torao’s a friend of mine!” Luffy grinned. He wrapped the two techs in a noodly hug, making them gurgle. “Oh! Yeah! Ace! Sabo! Say hi to Torao and his friends!”

“Luff, you’re going to kill them with affection,” Ace smirked.

“Yeah,” Sabo agreed with a laugh. “I don’t think we have enough space to bury more bodies in the backyard.”

“Please tell me that was a joke,” Shachi squeaked.

Law opted to not respond to that and instead left Penguin and Shachi in Luffy’s clutches while he and Bepo brought the bags in. Sanji was already in the kitchen prepping, while Usopp, Franky, and Brook played a racing game on the television.

“Did you get the goods?” the chef asked, pointing at Law with a knife. Law put one of the bags down and pulled out a bag of white powder covered in Wanolese script, which he threw at the man.

“I feel like I just watched a drug deal,” Bepo deadpanned.

“Even better than drugs,” Sanji claimed. “I don’t use a lot of it, but I’m practicing dishes from Wano for whenever it is Luff makes good on his threat to temporarily kidnap the consul’s son again.”

“Say the word ‘borrow’; it’s less incriminating,” Usopp shouted from the living room, not even taking his eyes off the game once.

“It’s just MSG,” Law shrugged.

“Yeah, but the good shit,” Sanji emphasized. He helped Law and Bepo unpack the rest of the bags and put everything away—odds and ends that weren’t of much consequence, but would be dangerous if missing later. “Nami-swan’s with Robin-chan picking Chopper up from school, by the way. They won’t be in until after lunch.”

That made Law’s eyebrows raise. “Sakura U is in Drum County. Four hours just driving round-trip.”

“Yeah, I know; I helped move the kid in freshman year.”

“Nami never volunteers to go get Chopper… unless…”

“Sounds like her mom’s getting some speecy-spicy dating action this week and she doesn’t want to hear about it,” Franky laughed. “I give the woman credit; she’s super feisty.”

“My dad just started dating again too—I get it,” Law said. “There are just some things you don’t want to hear… or learn… or think about…”

“If my old geezer started dating again, I’d die,” Sanji admitted with a shudder.

“Saaaame,” Usopp chimed in. The race ended and the teen groaned. “Brook! You are literally older than video games themselves! How did you beat me?!”

“I guess I’m a gamer down to my bones… which is all of me!” Brook cackled. “Law’s friend! Would you like to join us for the next round?”

“Uh… sure…” Bepo said warily. He sat down next to Usopp and accepted the fourth controller. “Are there any bear characters?”

As Usopp explained the game mechanics to Bepo, Law took his backpack up to Nami’s room and began to set himself up for later that night. He took care of the shit like condoms and lube because he wasn’t a goddamned barbarian and didn’t want his girlfriend to get worried if in the chaos of everything she forgot her medication for a couple days. It was just part of being a responsible adult and not some skeezebag looking to fuck how he wanted and whom he wanted without thinking about repercussions. The thought of a physical consequence crossed his mind as he shut the nightstand drawer and shuddered—Cora-san as a grandfather of all things would be something he’d need more than a few months to brace for.

“Law, there you are, holy shit.” He looked over his shoulder to see Penguin and Shachi both standing there, looking precisely the amount of moist that would be appropriate if they had been dragged into the pool against their will. Not only that, but they appeared to be absolutely flabbergasted by the entire situation they found themselves in. “That’s the second-in-command of the Revolutionary Army in the pool… the national-level political party, not state-level!”

“I know, Penguin.”

“…and the other’s one of the lieutenants of the Moby City mayor!”

“I know, Shachi.”

“…and apparently the host of Impel Drag Race is ‘popping by’ later?!”

“…and the straw-hat kid’s referring to the former state lieutenant governor as his grunkle?!”

“…and the one in the kitchen you had us go to six specialty import stores for is sous chef and heir to the Baratie?!”

“…and apparently your girlfriend is currently on a fetch quest to haul over here one of the few who can out-prodigy you when it comes to medicine?!”

“…a kid, may I remind you, whose grandparents are part of the reason why we even have world-class medicine in Greater Logue Town, let alone the state?!”

“…and Bepo’s getting his ass handed to him in video games by the Soul King himself…?!”

“I get it: we stick out the least despite the fact you two hold multiple state-level swimming records each, I’m the youngest surgeon in all departments at Logue Town General by at least a decade, and Bepo’s a bear,” Law reminded them casually. “To consider this as anything close to a normal party house is sort of a disgrace to the very concept of a party house.”

“This place is batshit,” Penguin stated. “It also might break physics because it feels like it’s bigger on the inside.”

“That’s your crisis to work through, not mine,” Law said. He reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out two single wrapped condoms, throwing them at his friends. “Be careful; if Hancock-ya shows up tonight, she’s going to bring the whole team, and I know how strong of a will you two have in front of a pretty face and thick thighs.”

“Wait, what…?” Shachi gaped. Law shrugged.

“The captain of the Amazon Lily roller derby team out of Kuja has a weird crush on Strawhat-ya that he doesn’t quite recognize and when she’s here, the entire team is here.”

“Law, have we ever expressed how much we truly appreciate your friendship?” Penguin said, his and Shachi’s demeanor clearly changed. They were in such awe that tears were beginning to well in their eyes. “This could honestly be the best night of our lives!”

“Step-on-me-pussy is literally the best pussy,” Shachi added with a sniffle. “We are in your debt.”

“Remember that next time I need changed dressings, blood draws, and vitals from everyone in the unit half an hour before shift change,” Law warned. His friends didn’t hear him—they were too busy imagining the possibilities for later on.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“What does it say about everything that you still don’t strike me as an adopt-into-single-fatherhood sort of man?” Bell-mère asked. She was at Cora’s for the evening, glad that the mysterious kid of his was gone with friends for the weekend. Picking up a picture frame from an end table, she looked at the image of her former comrade-in-arms hugging a sullen tween with Reverse Mountain National Park in the background. “Cute kid though.”

“Yeah, that’s from not long after I became his official guardian,” Cora said from the kitchen. “He was sick when I got him—didn’t think he’d make it past thirteen.”

“No shit. Now you said he’s in his twenties?”

“Yeah—went into medicine; his birth family was full of doctors and I think he wants to honor them that way. Works at Logue Town General and everything.”

“Who knows? He might know my youngest daughter’s beau.” Bell-mère went into the kitchen and sat at the table, watching Cora cook on the electric range—the only reason he wasn’t spontaneously bursting into flame while cooking their dinner. “She’s fucking some doctor who’s got to be closer to our age than hers if the intel we get from her friends is anything.”

“Possibly, though there’s a lot of doctors in LTG.”

“True.” She watched as he splashed some sauce on himself accidentally. “Sure you don’t need help?”

“I’m sure,” he winced. “So, what about you? Still never gave me an answer about the girls.”

“Something just clicked in my brain, you know?” she shrugged, taking it upon herself to pour the wine instead. “I’m sure you had a moment like that with your son.”

“Yeah, but Bell-mère the Beast? Adopting two little orphans while out on deployment?”

“You blew your cover on a covert job when you left, and the only reason you’re not dead is because it involved infiltrating your brother’s criminal empire and you both are worth more to him alive and unperturbed.”

“Technicalities,” Cora scoffed. He brought two plates of food to the table and sat down. “Things are still a little frosty between Sengoku and me for it, but I’d do it all over again and I’m sure you feel the same.”

“Beyond a doubt.” She ate some of the rice on her plate and chuckled. “At least fatherhood made you a decent home cook.”

“I’ll show you what else I’m still decent at after dessert,” he teased. She snorted in laughter—of course he would, because of course he was.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was late that night as Law and Nami both laid in bed, curled up together with their naked bodies flush against one another. The house was finally quiet and they could both just relax—a rare treat for the place they were currently occupying.

“Hey… Nami…?” He could feel her smile against his chest at the dropped honorific; something he did only when they were alone.

“Yeah…?”

“Is this… what you want…?”

She sat up and stared at him, raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow in a curious arch. “What do you mean by that?”

“Having the extent of our relationship being sneaking off to fuck in the middle of a house party?” He tried to shrug aloofly, but was too taken in by the sight of her in the moonlight to do more than twitch. “Would you like to be… I dunno… more involved…?”

“Depends on your definition,” she replied. She hugged her knees as she looked at him, the very sexy and very naked man in her bed bringing a tattooed arm up in order to rub circles on her back.

“Seeing one another without any of our friends needing to be there,” he mused. “Showing up at one another’s workplaces as a surprise, meeting my dad… your mom and sister…” He exhaled heavily, avoiding eye contact by staring at her shoulder tattoo. “I’m not saying commitment, but…”

“I get it; you want to know what’s on the table, if you need to keep future options in mind.”

“I guess.” He paused, trying to find the words. “I don’t mind if we’re a temporary thing…”

“You can say ‘fling’. I won’t be insulted.”

“Okay, fine: I don’t care if this is a fling and we drift apart or we’re actually friends with damn good benefits or I’m just what you’re into for now and you drop me like a rock next month. I mean… I’m getting sex out of it… sex with you…”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she reminded him, patting the bit of blanket covering his dick. “This is working for more than just you, trust me.”

“What I’m saying is…” he swallowed hard, “if you’d like, I’m willing to start exploring what a life together might be like.”

“See if we like what’s being laid down?”

“Pretty much. We’d need to meet each other’s parents first—hiding you from my dad any longer than I have to will be torture.”

“Well, I’ve never tried the meet-the-parents routine with anyone except for friends, so if you want to try, I’d say it’s worth a shot.”

A small smile twisted the corner of his mouth upwards. “Yeah…?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Law exhaled, only then he realized he had been holding his breath. “Okay. We can do this…? We can do this. I mean, we’re adults.”

“We are.” She then laid back down, settling herself between his arm and his chest. “Let’s talk about it more after some sleep. Then I’ll tell my mom when I get home.”

“…and I’ll tell Cora-san.”

“Wait…” she giggled incredulously. “Your dad’s name is Cora?”

“It’s an old nickname,” he grumbled, “but it is what he prefers to be called. I’ll break that down for you later as well.”

“No, it’s just funny because that’s the name of the woman my mom’s dating. Sorting through the Two Cora Situation is going to be a group bonding exercise in of itself.”

“I guess so.” He closed his eyes as he felt Nami bring the blankets around them again, taking in the wonderful silence of the night.

Well, it was silent for people without really good hearing, as he could have sworn he heard Shachi sob through an orgasm in another room. Only his friends could ruin a moment and not even be there.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The following morning went the average amount of well an after-party morning could go. Most of the house denizens were some version of worn-out thanks to either staying up late, copious amounts of alcohol, or both. The pair of Kuja that stayed the night with Penguin and Shachi both left early—Law had still been on his first cup of coffee when they did—dragging along the smitten Hancock with them. The surgeon watched as his friends found their way into the back by the pool, plopping down at the little table next to him as he scrolled through news headlines on his phone.

“You’ve been holding out,” Penguin scolded.

“Yeah,” Shachi said, expression to be too relaxed to be anything but blissful. “We got them on social and everything. What took you so long to bring us here?”

Law shrugged through his coffee, which his friends refused to accept for an answer. They both glared at him, waiting for whole minutes until he cracked.

“I wanted to make sure of it… you know.” He contemplated his next sentence, thought better of it, and went through with it anyhow. “I’m having her meet Cora-san.”

“Oh, fuck,” Shachi cringed. “That’s… that’s a hell of a step for you.”

“The number of people that have both met your dad and seen your dick is extremely small, and the list even exists in the first place purely due to changing rooms and nothing sexual,” Penguin noted.

“Yeah, you think I don’t realize that?” Law fired back. “Nami-ya and me, Cora-san and his… lady-friend I’m surprised actually exists, and Nami-ya’s mom with her lady-friend—just going to tear the bandage off and get us all together.”

Shachi let out a low whistle. “Oooh… you got it bad.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Law grunted. “I’m putting up with Strawhat-ya to be with her, so might as well.”

It was then that Luffy, almost if on-cue, ran out of the house and did a cannonball into the pool, splashing water all over Law, but not Penguin and Shachi. The latter two tried to hide their giggles as a now-familiar shishishi echoed through the yard.

Yeah, he had it bad alright.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As it turned out, it didn’t take long for Law to get a hold of everyone’s schedules. After looking at the family calendar and swiping her mother’s phone while she was in the shower, Nami was able to confirm that three weeks from that Tuesday worked well. He felt a sense of triumph as they coordinated the event, all the way down to the thumbs-up emojis that were sent his way when she asked her mom to join them.

Now, for the big one. It was luckily Law’s turn to make dinner that Monday, which meant that he was able to have everything ready by the time Cora-san came home from work. The older man raised an eyebrow when he saw his son in the kitchen with food nearly ready.

“Anything the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing’s wrong; just sit.” Cora did and Law brought over two plates of carbonara. “I just want a nice dinner for once.”

“Not complaining,” Cora nodded. He twirled some pasta on his fork and took a large bite, proceeding to talk with his mouth full. “So… you gonna tell me what this is about…?”

Fuck, busted.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to listen to me and not get too excited,” Law frowned. Cora perked up, his attention piqued. “Since we’re both dating someone…”

“��yeah…?”

“I thought it would be nice if we took a very non-committal step to clear the air and all meet one another.” Sparkles formed in the older man’s eyes and Law almost instantly regretted it. “She’s inviting her mom and mom’s girlfriend, while I’m supposed to invite you and… whatever it is that you consider a hot date. You know… be adults.”

“A triple date! How social of you! This young lady of yours must be doing wonders for your tolerance levels!” A thought then came to Cora and he instantly grew serious. “The crew isn’t jealous, are they?”

“Shachi and Penguin were both ‘stepped on’ by tri-state roller derby champions over the weekend and Bepo has decided that he’s determined to mentor this kid who we hang around now so he also doesn’t get the life sucked out of him by being a teenager in med school.”

“Then they approve! Excellent! Let the appropriate parties know and we can set up a day and time! Oh, this will be fun!”

“I was thinking three weeks from tomorrow, at a place near the hospital so it can be for lunch. We double-checked your schedules.”

“Not a dinner-date here…?”

“No, because I want to keep your shenanigans to a minimum, and that’s usually achievable when you’re trapped in a booth seat.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he admitted. “I’ll pass the word along tonight.”

“Thanks—let me know if anything comes up.”

“Oh, not a problem.” Cora couldn’t stop his wide smile as he looked at his son across the table. “You’ve come a long way, you know.”

“Yeah,” he blushed, “I know.”

“They’d be proud.”

“I know.”

“Now: does this mean I’m getting grandkids?”

It honestly took all Law had to not fling pasta in Cora’s face.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Later that night, Cora found himself having his final smoke of the evening before turning in for bed. Law was already asleep—kid’s circadian rhythm had always been fucked—and that meant that Cora was able to take his cigarette on the patio in peace without hearing his boy nag him about emphysema and other such things. He was nearly done when his phone buzzed: The Beast.

“Hey,” he answered, applying a suave tone to his voice.

“You said you wanted to talk about something?” Bell-mère asked. The text was actually a request to call when she was free, but he wasn’t complaining. “Is this about phone sex? Because I am actually in the mood for some phone sex…”

“We can do that later—there is something I want to get out of the way first.”

“Who’s dying?”

“No one,” Cora said cheerily. He stubbed out the cigarette and made his way back into the house. “It’s just my boy’s decided to coordinate something between us, so we can meet his girlfriend and her mom and mom’s girlfriend!”

“A triple date? With mostly people he doesn’t know? Kind of a lot for a kid that only tolerates hanging out with three people aside from his girlfriend.”

“Well, rumor has it that he met her at a party, and he tolerates her friends, so who knows?” Cora was beaming brightly as he looked at himself in the mirror next to the door—this was the sort of thing that was a rite of passage, wasn’t it? Meeting your kid’s significant other? Her mom? Oh, it was exciting! Was this a sign something more was on the horizon?! “He was thinking of going and doing something low-key: lunch at this restaurant that’s near the hospital.”

The line went quiet for a moment. “…Don Silver?”

“Yeah! I guess he and his friends go there during and after shifts a lot. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t need a reservation, but he’s asking them to set aside a table for us anyhow since he’s such a good regular.” Cora then paused, expression falling “How did you know?”

“My daughter wants us to meet her old-man-doctor-boyfriend, his dad, and dad’s girlfriend for lunch there. Tuesday at one?”

“…oh.”

Both Cora and Bell-mère were silent—no… it couldn’t be…

“Belle…?”

“Yeah…?”

“Did she tell you what the reservation was under…?”

“Her old-man-doctor-boyfriend’s name, but it’s not Donquixote…”

“I never gave him my family name, Belle. The adoption papers went through too slow for it to take effect before he started med school, even if he wanted to change it.”

“It’s a weird name, hold on, she wrote it down for me…” He heard a rustling of paper and then her grunting as she attempted to figure out how to pronounce it. “Tra… Tra-faye-el-gar?”

“Trafalgar; my son’s family name is Trafalgar.”

“Huh.” Cora began to chew at his fingernails and pace the kitchen as his mind began to race and the woman on the other end contemplated. He then began to pace and tug at his hair.

“Belle…?”

Nothing.

“Belle, answer me.”

Silence.

“Belle…?!”

“So,” she chuckled, “wanna fuck with ‘em?”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Don Silver was a well-patronized family restaurant within walking distance of Logue Town General, which made it the perfect location for Law to slip out to during his shift, but also to slip back in should an emergency arise. He left Bepo in charge of his patients until he came back, promising to stay late if he was out so long it threw everything off. When he walked into the restaurant, the owner simply gestured to the usual back booth he normally haunted with his friends, seeing that Nami was already there.

“Ah, there you are,” she chuckled, exchanging a quick peck as he sat down next to her. “Everything seems like it’s going as planned. Nojiko was a little irritated that she wasn’t invited, but she’ll get her chance.”

“Yeah, she will,” he agreed. Law felt as though his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I know… kind of exciting, isn’t it?” She leaned in close and pressed a kiss to the back of his jaw, smiling as she saw how confused the owner was at the scene. “I should have you know that you might not be on the list of favorites after this.”

“Your mom that big of a menace?”

“More like Gin over there and Sanji have had beef since culinary school,” she chuckled. Law caught that the owner was staring at them and he shrugged—how could he have known? “Oh, hey, there’s Bell-mère!”

“…and that’s Cora-san,” Law noted. He watched has his foster father held open the door for Nami’s mother. “Wait a second… where’s their dates…?”

“That is… huh…” Nami trailed off as Cora and Bell-mère made their way to the table. Both parents decided to slide directly into the booth seating, with the leggy, clumsy one on the inside. “Do we need to wait for the others, or…?”

“There’s no others; what are you talking about?” Bell-mère scoffed. A waiter came over to deposit some glasses of water—a handled mug for Cora, as they were warned beforehand—and battered menus, leaving the four to their own devices for the time being. “It’s just us and our manfriends, although I’m honestly impressed you went as old as you did considering mine’s just a year younger than me…”

“Nojiko and I have been under the impression you’ve been seeing a woman named Cora…”

“Short for Corazón,” Bell-mère shrugged. “That was your codename out in the field, right hon?”

“It was, wasn’t it, Law?” Cora smirked. He tried very hard to not notice the deep sense of confusion his son was radiating. “You’ve been here a lot; what’s good?”

After some awkward deliberation, the waiter came back and took their orders and the menus while depositing a breadbasket. A silence settled over the table once the waiter left, one that made the younger couple hold hands underneath the table for strength, while the older couple decided to put their plan into action.

Operation Fuck with the Brats was a-go.

“We want to thank both of you for meeting us like this,” Cora said seriously, deciding to be the one to break the ice. He nearly couldn’t stop himself from bursting into laughter as he watched panic settle in on his son’s face. “It’s not exactly the sort of thing we want to talk about when I’m liable to trip while wandering around the house.”

“What…?” Nami wondered, cocking her eyebrow.

“Man’s a complete klutz,” Bell-mère said before Law could explain. “Let’s just hope it’s not inheritable.”

All the color left Nami and Law’s faces at once.

“What… erm… do you mean by that…?” the younger woman asked. Bell-mère shrugged.

“Eh, just putting shit down in the right places,” she replied. “Should’ve done it years ago, but never had the reason, until now…”

“Cora-san…? What is she talking about…?” Law asked, his voice faint. His foster father grinned widely.

“We wanted you two to be our Best Man and Maid of Honor!” he beamed. “You’d be perfect for the job! It doesn’t even get into being Emergency Guardians…”

“Oh I’m going to be sick,” Nami grimaced.

“Don’t you dare, you little shit,” Bell-mère warned. “I would think it’d be an honor. You did always want to be an older sister growing up.”

“…and we’re already on the older side for a baby, so having their older siblings be the ones to take care of them in case we can’t is perfect!”

Law sank into the booth, completely dumbstruck. Cora-san…?! And Nami’s mom…?! He was almost regretting not making this meeting at the Southern Blue pub down the street—at least they had a liquor license. “Does Doflamingo know about this…?”

“My brother wouldn’t know what to do with a kid if he had one walk in his front door,” Cora scoffed. “I know because I watched it happen. Multiple times.” The mortification on the younger couple’s faces was definitely worth the ruse; the kids seemed to be inventing new stages of grief. “Speaking of front doors—Bell-mère’s moving in since there’s more room, so you have the choice of staying in your current room or out elsewhere.”

“Nami, you and Nojiko get to fight it out over what to do with where we’re at now,” Bell-mère added. “Just don’t rent it out to any of your weirdo friends—I’d like the place to stay intact, thank you.”

“You have to be fucking with us,” Nami decided. She dug into her purse and whipped out her phone. “I’m calling Nojiko.”

“Go ahead, be that way,” Bell-mère said. She watched as Nami hit the button to dial her sister and held the phone up to her ear.

“So…? How’s it going…?” Ah, fuck, she sounded too smug.

“Nojiko, did you know anything about this?”

“…about what…?”

“…about why the hell our mom decided to meet my boyfriend so easily…”

“Ooohhhh, that,” Nojiko replied, a grin on her voice. “Yeah, she should have told us that her kinky reconnect was a dude before she got herself all prego. She offered me Maid of Honor first, but I said you can have it since you’d actually want to sleep with the geriatric Best Man…”

“I fucking hate you all,” Nami said before ending the call. She put her phone screen-down on the table and glared at her mother. “You are absolutely mortifying.”

“I am what I am,” Bell-mère shrugged. She then wrinkled her nose and looked at Cora with a frown. “Oh… the kid’s gonna be a Donquixote, isn’t it…?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea.”

“Then how do you suggest we tell your brother? Ease him in gently or just let him discover on his own?”

“I honestly don’t know which would be worse.”

“Your brother—that’s up to you. Oh! Food’s here!”

Sure enough Bell-mère did notice their food coming out the kitchen as the waiter dropped off the plates cheerily. Both Law and Nami really didn’t feel like eating anymore, while their parents both began to pick at their fries…

…and laughed.

“Ah, fuck, we really had you going!” Bell-mère snorted.

“Your faces are priceless,” Cora added.

“So… you’re not having a baby…” Nami stated.

“…and you’re not getting married,” Law continued.

“Tch; don’t think I’m ready to settle down quite yet,” Bell-mère scoffed. “Besides, this klutzy nightmare? Fuck baby-proofing—I’d have to Rosi-proof.”

“Then you’re not seeing one another…?” Law knew it was dangerous to be hopeful. He was anyhow, only for his hopes to be dashed against the floor unceremoniously like a slippery water glass.

“Sorry to burst that bubble, kids, but I am one-hundred-percent fucking this goober despite all logic and reasoning telling me that I probably shouldn’t,” Bell-mère shrugged. “Didn’t think I’d be with a man again after we last hooked up in the Marines, but I have to admit he’s improved with age.”

“Belle…” Cora giggled, blushing furiously. “That’s still my son and his cute girlfriend…”

“…and that’s my daughter and her geriatric manfriend,” she replied. “They’re adults; I think they can handle it.”

To be honest? Neither Law nor Nami wanted anything to do with anything at that very moment.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was actually a fucking gorgeous day as Law laid face-down on the grass in the backyard at 1000 Sunny Drive. He hadn’t thought it was particularly appropriate to show his face at Luffy’s sus-as-fuck party house in the middle of buttfuck-nowhere after what had happened earlier in the week, but Bepo and the goons insisted. While the bear chatted amiably with Chopper and Kaya (how the fuck did Usopp of all the kids got himself a girlfriend? That he wasn’t having sex with yet? No one really knew), Penguin and Shachi were biding their time before the Amazons Lilys showed up (and let’s be real: the nursing techs knew they were the lay-conquest), while Law… he was just trying to not die of embarrassment.

“So…” a voice said, almost consolingly. “You fucked your sister.”

“She is not my sister, Roronoa-ya,” Law replied. He didn’t need to look to see the kendo genius standing there, nor that it was the chef who nudged him in the side with his foot.

“Well, your parents fucked before you did, so that makes you siblings.”

“That does not make them siblings, mossbrain,” Sanji scoffed. “Come on, Law. What do you think you’re going to achieve by doing all this sulking?”

“I’m touching grass; go away.”

“I don’t think that’s what they mean, but keep telling yourself that. Besides, you know the marimo never learned about sex-ed, birds or bees. I bet his old man would have reproduced via budding if he could and skipped the adoption paperwork.”

“Yours probably wishes he could bake himself a less pervy son.”

“Fuck off, you overgrown grass stain,” Sanji hissed.

“You realize none of this is helping, right?” Law said into the lawn.

“Eh; worth a shot.” Law heard Sanji flick open his lighter and the familiar smell of cigarettes hit his nose—the man smoked the same brand as Cora.

“Get away from him, you vultures,” scolded a very familiar voice. Zoro chuckled lowly as Sanji pulled him away. Once the clowns had dispersed, Nami sat down on the grass and sighed, hugging her knees.

“I blame Bell-mère for getting Nojiko in on it,” she reminded him. “She’s the reason any of these morons know anything… well, that and Sanji not having Gin blocked on social.”

“I know—it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing.”

“True, but it does mean that we’re probably going to spend holidays together at the very least, whether we’re fucking or not.” She reached over and began scratching his scalp, eliciting a heavy whine. “Look at it this way: they could have not been joking.”

“Doesn’t mean it can’t still happen,” he replied. “Pregnancy can occur all the way until post-menopause, and many are accidental.”

“Shhhh…” she soothed, smoothing his hair. “Don’t think about it.”

All he could do was squeak out a pained groan—he was a doctor… all he could do was think about it.

[haeva]

for the ship kiss thing, 29 with any ship you want <3

With friends like you (who needs boyfriends)

Fandom: Yellowjackets

Pairing: Shauna Shipman/Jackie Taylor

Word count: 1k

Summary: On their way back from Nationals, Jackie tells Shauna that she's breaking up with Jeff. (No plane crash AU)

Author's note: My first Yellowjackets fanfic! Sorry that it took so long that you probably forgot you sent this. Also sorry if you don't watch Yellowjackets. Might crosspost to AO3 if it doesn't flop.

They didn’t win Nationals. Not all that significant in the grand scheme of things, but Jackie was a teenage girl from a small town and so to her it meant everything. Which is why she spent the entire flight home sulking. Next to Shauna of course, who was trying her best to cheer her best friend up. 

“Come on,” she said, Jackie’s head resting on her shoulder. “Cheer up! We may not have won, but we did go to Nationals. And we didn’t completely screw it up either. That’s something, isn’t it?” She nudged Jackie’s cheek with her shoulder, forcing her friend to sit back upright. 

Jackie gave her an annoyed look. She was tired and just wanted to go home and rest. But Shauna gave her a sheepish smile, so instinctively she smiled back. 

“You’re right,” she admitted with a sigh. “We all did our best and it’s just a soccer tournament, after all. Not the end of the world.” It was the truth and rationally Jackie knew that. But when had her insecurities ever been rational? 

Shauna took her hand, like she had done so many times before, intertwining their fingers. It was funny actually, sometimes Jackie felt like she held hands with Shauna even more than she did with Jeff. If it wasn’t true now it would certainly be after this weekend. 

“I’m going to break up with Jeff,” Jackie confessed. She had thought about it on the way to Nationals and now again on the way back. She liked Jeff, but she didn’t love him. Besides, she was headed off to Rutgers soon anyway and Jeff just wasn’t the college type of guy. They were simply bound to fall apart, one way or another. 

“Oh,” was Shauna’s response. It didn’t sound like she was sad for Jackie. In fact, if Jackie didn’t know better she would have said that Shauna sounded almost relieved. Which could only mean that she also did not think that Jeff was the right guy for Jackie. If there had been any doubt about her decision before, there sure wasn’t any left now. 

“On the bright side, now we’ll both be single. So we can find new boyfriends together.” She knew that she shouldn’t feel so excited about any breakup, much less her own, but for the first time in what seemed like an eternity Jackie felt like she could truly breathe. Being with Jeff was stifling and felt more like a duty than a desire. He made her feel wanted, sure, but he didn’t make her feel seen. She wanted to be with someone who understood her completely and loved her anyway. That was true love. It was what she and Shauna had. 

“Yeah,” Shauna said weakly. She had never been all that interested in finding a boyfriend, focussing most of her energy on school and soccer. Jackie had always admired her dedication, but sometimes she wished her best friend would let loose just a little. 

"Are you sure that's what you want though? To break up with Jeff, I mean." Shauna fidgeted with her necklace, as if she was nervous. 

Jackie gave her a confident nod. "He's just not the one for me." 

There was a moment of silence. Then: 

"So, who is the one for you?" 

Jackie shrugged. “Just not Jeff, I guess.” In actuality, she did not have to guess. She knew exactly what her perfect man would be like. She just couldn’t tell Shauna. What was she supposed to say? That whenever she imagined herself getting married it was with a male version of her best friend? Surely that would go down badly. “What about you?” 

“I don’t know,” was Shauna’s similarly non-committal answer. Not that Jackie had expected anything else. In the entire time that they’d known each other, Shauna had never mentioned liking anyone. But that didn’t mean that Jackie wasn’t curious. They were best friends; it made sense that Jackie would want to know exactly who Shauna was into. 

“I’ve never thought about it.” Shauna casted her eyes down, as if she was embarrassed to admit it. She chuckled awkwardly. “Is that weird?” 

Jackie put a hand on her shoulder, trying to make her smile as reassuring as she possibly could. “Of course not, Shauna. Some people are just late bloomers with this kind of stuff. Besides, when did you have the time to think about this anyway? You’re always so focussed on school.” 

“That’s true,” Shauna said, looking back up at Jackie. “You’re such a good friend, Jackie.” 

Shauna had said it a million times before, but now it felt different. Jackie couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly, but where hearing those words usually filled her with happiness, they now left her with a strange ache in her chest. Still, she smiled. “So are you.” 

“Promise me that we’ll always be there for each other, no matter what. And that no boys will ever get between us.” Shauna held up her hand, sticking out her pinky finger. 

“I promise,” Jackie swore as she linked their fingers together. The two girls laughed only to get harshly shushed by Lottie, who was trying to sleep in her seat on the side of the aisle. It only made them giggle harder. 

“She was so mad,” Shauna whispered after Lottie had gone back to sleep. 

“Well, I’d be mad at you too if you had disturbed my nap,” Jackie joked. 

Shauna gave her a look of faux betrayal. “You were just as loud,” she accused. “Besides, you could never stay mad at me for long.” 

“That is true,” Jackie admitted. It was true. She would always forgive her, no matter what. Because she was Shauna and to Jackie, Shauna was everything. She leaned forward then, softly kissing Shauna on the cheek, a silent promise. I’ll never stay mad at you. Never. 

The look in Shauna’s eyes was one of pure adoration, as if she loved Jackie just as much as Jackie loved her. She felt that ache in her chest again. So she chuckled to fill the silence, playing it all off as a joke. She would forgive Shauna for anything, but she did not need to worry about that. She knew Shauna would never hurt her.

[dgknightblue]

The picture depicts Rise Raph and Leo but:

Here’s a crossover idea.

Okay so I don’t know how it got to this point but let’s say one of the versions or a handful from different versions get teleported to the hidden city.

They were kind of confused but since they’ve met each other, they stick close. Then they hear something in a alleyway.

“Look I know for a fact that you’re too old to be hitting on me, so drop it.”, they stumble upon a red eared slider being cornered by a random mutant (yokai) that probably smells as cheap as they look.

“Oh come on, you probably have a few years I could wait.”

“No. I’m waiting for my big brother. You know ones usually nearby, right?”, they grit out.

“I don’t see him coming sweet heart, you look like a girl that likes fun don’t you?”

“I’m not.”, they glance and notices someone approaching.

“Besides my big brother’s here.”

“Just what can that noodle arm do huh?”

“I meant the red one.”, they smirk.

The random brute tenses as he feels a glare behind him. He turns to see a turtle with some muscle on him and a horrible glare.

The red eared slides away and behind them.

“I found my brother! Loved to chat but I have places to be! With my brother!”

The turtle twitches because he can feel the slider anxiously gripping the back of his shell. Other turtles show up.

“Yeah, why don’t you be on your way Hm?”, he snarls.

The random brute runs off scared. Once the slider deems it safe, they somewhat collapse in relief.

“Oh thank goodness! You saved my shell there. Sorry about that, no one usually approaches me. Mostly when my brothers are usually not far behind. You guys hungry? I know the best pizza place. I’d show you myself, but kind of need to go to my step dad for a hot second.”, the slider rambled with a smile.

“Well pizza would be nice, but why isn’t your step dad with you right now? If that isn’t too much to ask?”

“Hm…. We’ll I do like bad mouthing him every chance I get….. however it wasn’t his fault he ditched me. This time. He’s on probation for some pretty dumb things, don’t worry about it. So of course some public service is bound to happen.”

“Ah I see… we’ll can you give us directions then?”, said one of the turtles.

“Even better!”, they had them a map that’s locked onto the ‘Run of the Mill’ pizzeria.

“Cool, never seen one of these. How’s it work?”

“Uh tap here to undo the location lock and then touch this to open the voice thingy. If you don’t have a specific place to go, then the nearest one would pop up and tap it again to lock it. Anyways, that’s it.”

The slider turns to leave before stopping and turning a round with a glint in their eyes.

“When you get there- just say the best customer they’ve ever had wants them to charge your food to Baron Draxum. A little pay back for ditching me is well deserved after all.”

They laugh at that.

“By the way, where did you get your mask? Blue is my favorite color and I kind of ‘lost’ mine…”, they blushed when they said they ‘lost’ their mask.

“Uh sorry I got mine from my…dad.”

“Oh yeah me too, but I’ll have to look at one the illegals stalls then.”

“Illegal?”

“Yeah my family kind of *cough* destroyed the whole city *cough* totally has nothing to do with me! I’m blameless!”

They finally left them.

“Think that was one of us?”

“Probably considering they asked about a mask.”

“More importantly, got the guy tied up?”

“On the roof.”

“Good let’s get a bit information from him before getting that pizza.”

“I think it’s cute that, probably, Leo has a vindictive personality.”

“Also kind of worrying.”

“Yeah.. anyways what will we do to get him to talk?”

“I say smack him a round a little- especially for scaring the little blue.”

“Good idea, but we don’t know if the consequences-“

“Don’t worry about that. He won’t be talking about this to anyone.”

They go to the roof.

———————

At the pizza place, they do as instructed and the owner groans.

“What did pepino do? He likes to make a mess. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Oh he didn’t do anything! This a thank you for helping him.”

“Some creep was hitting on him when he was alone.”

“Wasn’t he with his step dad?”

“Uh Accidental ditching apparently.”

“Aie that Draxum wasn’t much of a role mole to begin with. I’ll have your pizza ready soon enough, please don’t be like little pepino and make a mess.”

A rabbit waiter asks what they want to drink.

“How was Leo anyway? Did he look obnoxious?”, the rabbit asked.

“Eh he seemed fine, why?”

“He does not have a clue what person space is.”, the waiter huffed before leaving.

“What a weird world this is.”

“Yeah, doesn’t seem like New York to me.”

The pizza arrives and they eat. They were amazed by the pizza. The slider shows up with a sheep man.

“Hey guys! Meet my step sheep. He’s the one paying <3”

The slider sits at the table while his step dad stands. He glared at them all.

“Why must I pay for these whelps meal?”

“Because they helped me when I really needed you <3”

“You could have handled it yourself.”

“Ah but here’s the thing.”, an angry glint in the sliders eye.

“You and my family have already caused quite a mess yourselves and making another scene just after the punishment ruling would not look good for my dad or my brothers.”

“The only reason I’m in trouble is-“

“You didn’t stop them and they dragged you with them. That’s on you.”

The slider then ignored him in favor of continuing to eat and the sheep gave up his money, not wanting to get into an argument.

“Oh I never got your names. I’m Leo Hamato, Battle Nexus champion and certified hero if I do say so my self! But you can call me Neon Leon.”

“Ah yes, self proclaimed fame the best kind of hero.”, the rabbit waiter showed up.

Dropping the pizza on the plate, Leon practically melted into a love struck smile.

“Oh hiiii Usagi, I missed you <3 want to hang out later?”

Usagi rolled his eyes and placed drinks on the table along with Leon’s.

“You know juuust thing huh? You’re really cool <3”

“Leo, if your brothers saw you after curfew they’d kill me.”

“Why? You’re my best friend and you’re strong <3 and fast <3 and smart <3!!”

Usagi stays quiet as he deadpans, feeling the glare of the other turtles at the table.

Oh good. His family grows and my pain extends.

“Oh where are our manners? We haven’t introduced ourselves either.”, a tight smile.

(Of course the other turtles have aged, Leon is still 16 though)

“I’m… Daniel.”

“I’m… Milo.”

“I’m… Ronald.”

“I’m…. Laramie.”

(IDK about ages)

—————-

Eventually blah blah they get back before anyone found out they were from other universes.

“Laramie” gave his mask to Leon.

Now imagine how they’d find out of other universes.

Maybe Leon shows up to another universe, doesn’t know at first when they see one of them.

Or more sudden visits to the hidden city.

(How come we don’t ever start in the hidden city? I thought it would be a good idea.)

Which turtles come here? Besides them being one of each.

Anyways bye!!

[slfshdsr]

Today, I was acknowledged and validated more than ever before. A 13-year old boy, we’ll call Joe, is detached from others and careless about what they others think, but his eyes see intent and his heart feels inspiration. To preface what I do: I am a one-on-one aide for another student the same age as Joe, we’ll call Alex. Alex is a middle-schooler with autism and intense emotional-behavioral difficulties. Without going into detail, he has made serious progress with being aware of his actions and emotions, since I began working with him. When I started, he didn’t have friends, so I adopted a few kiddos and made them friends of my own so he could see what friendship looks like. Now, he has people he can trust, and they have great connection with.

Joe used to be a friend of Alex’s, until Alex had a few major emotional outbursts that caused intense, dangerous behaviors that put himself and others in danger. Joe was never as close as he was to Alex after that day, but has slowly integrated himself to rekindle their friendship. Today, when Alex was away, Joe approached me with a serious look on his face counteracted by a kind smile. Suspiciously, I asked, “What’s up?”

To which he responded, “Nothing much,” as he swayed back and forth rather nervously. “But I did want to say thank you.” This caught me off guard, so I I had to ask what there was to thank me for. “The way you’ve worked with Alex has helped him and the people around him so much. You can really see a difference in him on so many levels. So, thank you, really.”

Catching me more off guard than before, he had me stunned to silence. But, I quickly realized my awkward silence and replied with a grateful, “Thank you, buddy, I appreciate that. And you’re welcome, I guess. But it’s really Alex that’s doing all the work.”

“Well yeah,” he quickly agreed while raising his hands and shoulders to almost say how obvious my statement was. “But without you, things would still be so different and intense. There’s something you do to the environment and people around that makes everything feel better.”

Again, stunned to silence. “I appreciate you, Joe,” I eventually said while feeling nervous appreciation. “I really can’t thank you enough for that.”

I’ve been validated as a friend by my friends themselves, friends of my friends, or by adults around us. But, I’ve never been validated for being a friend, role model, and mentor to the kids I work with. After spending all my energy to help him, I’ve lost energy to help take care of myself. Knowing that this energy has been recognized as doing good makes me feel more restored than I ever thought possible.

Giving children a voice to use, attention and respect to listen, and space to feel completely comfortable and accepted ignites something inside them that is truly beautiful to see. They’re still growing and learning, so to see this at such a young age has me stunned to silence, still. But, it emphasize the fact that if we just allow kids to be themselves while providing comfort and joy, they will become the best version of themselves possible. Trust me, I’ve seen it.

[comicweek]

THR: You’re launching this company at a time when the movie business is changing.

Ben Affleck: When The Way Back came out, I knew. It came out the weekend they shut the theaters down with COVID. But that’s not an excuse. Because I knew as it was coming out, just the tracking, I was like, “OK, here’s a movie about a guy, son dies, gets divorced, alcoholic. Nobody’s going to go to the theater to see this fucking movie. They’re just not.” I felt it. Succession is on. Ozark. Narcos. Game of Thrones. You’re not competing with [1980s crime drama] Simon & Simon on an 11-inch black-and-white TV. There’s really beautiful stuff being made. My daughter is 17. She lives her life largely in opposition to the work her parents have spent their lives dedicated to, where she’ll say things like, “I’m not sure film is really … Do you think it’s a genuine art form?” I like the fact that she has this silver rapier tongue. But anyway, I went into it going, “OK, these movies aren’t fucking working anymore. And these are the ones I like.”

As opposed to —

BA: The Justice League experience, the fact that those stories became somewhat repetitive to me and less interesting. Yeah, I did finally figure out how to play that character [Batman], and I nailed it in The Flash. For the five minutes I’m there, it’s really great. A lot of it’s just tone. You’ve got to figure out, what’s your version of the person? Who is the guy that fits what you can do? I tried to fit myself into a Batman. And by the way, I like a lot of the stuff we did, especially the first one [Batman v Superman].

THR: But not Justice League. What went wrong there?

BA: Justice League … You could teach a seminar on all the reasons why this is how not to do it. Ranging from production to bad decisions to horrible personal tragedy, and just ending with the most monstrous taste in my mouth. The genius, and the silver lining, is that Zack Snyder eventually went to AT&T and was like, “Look, I can get you four hours of content.” And it’s principally just all the slow motion that he shot in black-and-white. And one day of shooting with me and him. He was like, “Do you want to come shoot in my backyard?” I was like, “I think there are unions, Zack. I think we have to make a deal.” But I went and did it. And now [Zack Snyder’s Justice League] is my highest-rated movie on IMDb.

Isn’t that because Zack Snyder’s fans are so intense online?

BA: Say what you want, it is my highest-rated career movie. I’ve never had one that went from nadir to pinnacle. Retroactively, it’s a hit. All of a sudden I was getting congratulated for the bomb I’m in. But I was going to direct a Batman, and [Justice League] made me go, “I’m out. I never want to do any of this again. I’m not suited.” That was the worst experience I’ve ever seen in a business which is full of some shitty experiences. It broke my heart. There was an idea of someone [Joss Whedon] coming in, like, “I’ll rescue you and we’ll do 60 days of shooting and I’ll write a whole thing around what you have. I’ve got the secret.” And it wasn’t the secret. That was hard. And I started to drink too much. I was back at the hotel in London, it was either that or jump out the window. And I just thought, “This isn’t the life I want. My kids aren’t here. I’m miserable.” You want to go to work and find something interesting to hang onto, rather than just wearing a rubber suit, and most of it you’re just standing against the computer screen going, “If this nuclear waste gets loose, we’ll …” That’s fine. I don’t condescend to that or put it down, but I got to a point where I found it creatively not satisfying. Also just, you’re sweaty and exhausted. And I thought, “I don’t want to participate in this in any way. And I don’t want to squander any more of my life, of which I have a limited amount.”

THR: So if DC came to you now and said, “Do you want to direct something?” 

BA: I would not direct something for the [James] Gunn DC. Absolutely not. I have nothing against James Gunn. Nice guy, sure he’s going to do a great job. I just wouldn’t want to go in and direct in the way they’re doing that. I’m not interested in that.

[regallibellbright]

The thing about me and Pokemon.

Is that I got into Pokemon almost IMMEDIATELY after it reached the United States, like, I’m PRETTY sure the first episode I ever saw was not the first airing of the SS Anne episode which was also, inexplicably, the first one aired here? (Yes. The one with the cliffhanger ending where they’re trapped on a sinking ship. I don’t know why either.) But that is one of the very first episodes I remember watching, the timing just about works out, and I can’t recall for a fact if the first episode I watched was that, Vulpix’s introduction, or like. Bulbasaur’s. But I actually remember meaningful things about the Kanto Starters arc. If it was not the first episode it was still within that first year.

And then it promptly consumed about 40% of my brain as I was immediately invested in Ash trading his Butterfree and their friendship and how they were going to escape a sinking ship, and has never given that space up since. It has been one of if not The defining special interest of my life since I was about five, and was only truly challenged for its title by Neopets at its peak. There have been others that rival it in their age and their ability to wax and wane but always come back to core special interest intensity eventually - Kingdom Hearts is probably the next in line, for example, and likewise an “it was love well before I could actually PLAY it” thing, that one because some kids at daycare spliced together a lot of gameplay and cutscenes from 1 onto a VHS they brought in, Pokemon I spent YEARS reading the original Pokemon handbook envious of the fact that my uncle would let me play Kirby sometimes but would not share his copy of Blue (and I’ve lost a save file to younger kid, that’s fair) - but since I’m only such a video game fanatic because of Pokemon, it gets to be the all-time king.

And also, because I’ve been here so long. I have played ALL OF THEM.

Like, usually only one game from each given generation, two with the third versions, but the only period we totally missed out on were Red and Blue because I got the Gameboy Color just ahead of Crystal, so the only Gen I game I’ve played on original hardware was Yellow version post-beating Crystal, pre-Gen 3, and WELL before I could play Pokemon competently. This still means I have played a Pokemon game in each central generation on original hardware.  I’ve also watched people, say, exploit the ridiculous mechanics of Gen 1 in ways they never needed to know about because they aren’t even of interest to SPEEDRUNNERS but become relevant when ten thousand people are playing a single game of Pokemon Red on Twitch and they can’t switch out another Pokemon so they’re stuck trying to get Pidgeot through Lavendar Tower and enemy Pokemon never run out of PP. Or stalling out a win against Lance because of several funny quirks of enemy AI that allow him to just keep using Agility and Barrier until poison defeats his last Dragonite rather than finishing off the level 30-something Venomoth that was all they had left. And this just... lives here. In my brain. Forever.

I remember people complaining about the new Pokemon these days looking weird and ridiculous, what do you MEAN we’re getting a baby form of Chimecho that’s a jingle bell and a BALLOON POKEMON? (I remember coming to the defense of that little purple balloon Pokemon as a cute design. Little did I know.)

And that has shaped my opinions on Pokemon discourse in the, oh, seventeen years since. Like clockwork. Time after time. I have seen it all before, I will see it all again, and I expect this time next year we’ll be getting the incredible nostalgia, hype and demands for the Kalos remakes. Mark my words.

[curtklingermanposts]

It's Illegal

Stop Bringing Things Up

As Christians, we know we are to forgive others; otherwise, we will not be forgiven (see Matthew 6:15). One aspect of forgiveness, which we should to take to heart, is once we tell others we forgive them; it would be illegal to brings things up again. More specifically, rub whatever transpired in their face, and use it against them. Once things have been dealt with, it’s time to let them go permanently.

Psalms 103:12 As far as the east is from the west, so far hath He removed our transgressions from us.

Jesus encouraged us to be merciful as our Father in Heaven is merciful (Matthew 5:38-48), therefore, it would be important to treat others as He does us. God never brings things up again, once He’s forgiven us. East never meets west, which means it’s no longer a consideration. It’s part of the New Covenant: “for I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more” (Jeremiah 31:34 [see verses 31-34 for fuller context]).

For whoever needs this: Stop asking Him for forgiveness for something He has already forgiven! It’s done!

The Importance of Letting Go

Psalms 103:8-10 The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in lovingkindness. He will not always strive with us, Nor will He keep His anger forever. He has not dealt with us according to our sins, Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities (NASB).

Because He compassionate and gracious, He doesn’t treat us in the way we deserve. Of course, when a person is experiencing pain, or anger as the result of someone else’s offence, it can be difficult to think in those terms. Difficult; but not impossible. Naturally, the more we become like Him, the easier it gets. The more we submit to Holy Spirit, the easier it is to detach our emotions, and not take up the offence to begin with. That’s not to say we become impervious to getting hurt, but it can be greatly mitigated.

Part of it is realizing the frailty of humanity. People do things for different reasons, which makes it imperative to be empathetic, and to try to understand from where someone is coming. People think, act, react and respond differently from each other, because they are different. A simple example is everyone is raised differently than another. Even in communities with shared values have households that are unique to their neighbors. Children are disciplined differently. Some values are held in higher esteem in some homes than others. World views differ from one person to the next, at least to some degree. All of this feeds in the way we interact with one another.

Even motives can be misinterpreted based on one’s experiences and upbringing. A person could have totally benign intent behind an offending action, yet be seen by another as having malicious intent. In extreme instances, some have been taught everyone is guilty. There are individuals who might be considered socially awkward, and lack the social graces to recognize what is acceptable and what is not in some settings.

Psalms 103:13-14 Just as a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him. For He Himself knows our frame; He is mindful that we are but dust (NASB).

God makes room for our weaknesses; in fact, He has made provision for them -grace. Part of being compassionate is letting people off the hook. One might ask, “What about accountability?” We’ll briefly address that in a moment. Take it to personal level. Have you ever hurt someone, and experienced guilt and shame as a result? Did you find those things leave you once you found forgiveness? How easy it to move forward when your past is constantly thrown in your face? Releasing others helps them move forward, and become their better versions. Constantly reminding them of their past offence hinders their progress.

If a person doesn’t want someone to move forward, it begs the question as to whether he forgave the offender to begin with. Forgiveness does not necessarily mean the pain immediately goes away; however, without it, there is no healing. Secondly, forgiveness does not necessarily make someone trustworthy. Nonetheless, it does make room for his earning that trust back. In fact, it may help turn things around to the point where the relations morphs into what God intended it to be in the first place.

Romans 8:28 And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.

One thing that helps overcome hurt and anger is finding God’s intent for the relationship. Asking Him for wisdom and understanding goes a long way in restoration and healing. And that’s what it’s about: relationship.

Back to the accountability thing. Two things to consider: one is becoming self-aware. In many cases, there are more than one perpetrator in a given conflict. Hmmm. There are two sides to every story. Self-awareness helps us see our part in the story, especially when we include Holy Spirit. There may be a possibility we might be the ones who need to ask for forgiveness. This part of taking personal accountability. It’s not always the other person’s fault. Humility plays a big role in being accountable.

Secondly, holding someone accountable does not necessarily mean calling them out on the carpet, so to speak. Instead of pointing the finger, and causing them to look down, point up to where they are called. “You’re better than this, God has called you to something much better. I don’t see you as a low life, I see you as a person of God.” The idea is to see them as God sees them, and encourage him or her in that direction.

God calls those things that be not as if they were (see Romans 4:17). He knows the end result, and we want to be in agreement with Him. If one decides to throw someone’s past in his or her face, one is not in agreement with God.

Matthew 18:15 Moreover if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother.

By the way, part of the forgiveness process occasionally includes talking about it, but once the talking is over, it’s over!

www.perfectfaith.org

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (cnc), dom/sub relationship, ‘mistress’ title, pain kink, cockwarming, orgasm denial/control, use of a cockring, slapping, objectification/degradation, some angst and hurt/comfort, crying after sex, touchstarved!bucky

new parts posted on thursdays!  join the taglist here

"And you can promise complete and total discretion?” the deep and husky voice on the other end of the line repeated, low enough that it was almost a whisper.

You laughed a little. “Of course,” you answered. Most clients were serious about privacy, but this guy was next level. He must be famous, you thought to yourself, or married. Or both.

But just as much as your clients wanted to keep you separate from their personal life, you would rather they know nothing about who you are. Of course it was always a risk, since nobody could hide their face and you had to work out of your apartment, but you did what you could to keep your job just that— a job.

You told your friends you were a consultant, because people didn’t question that. Sure, it was hard to keep up the lie sometimes when you got last-minute bookings and had to cancel plans, but it was worth it for the money these men were willing to pay.

And this new guy? He was shelling out all kinds of cash, on a long set of conditions. Including an NDA. You wouldn’t have given him up either way, but if the contract made him feel better (and made him pay more) then you were happy to sign it.

“So it’s all anonymous, then? No ID, no credit card…?” he pressed.

“I mean, if cash is easier for you—”

“It is.”

You were starting to worry that this was a major red flag, as if he didn’t want to be traceable back to you at all. It was almost a dealbreaker, until you glanced down at the legal pad you’d written his offer on and remembered that you couldn’t afford to turn him down. “Then cash is fine,” you decided, making a note to yourself to have 911 already dialed when he came by in case his aversion to ID was really about a desire to get away with something.

“When can we start?”

“Um, well the soonest I can do is tomorrow at seven” you explained.

"Great, I'll be there," he answered firmly, apparently about to hand up.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” you chuckled. “Can I at least get a name?”

“I didn’t think we needed to do names.”

“We don’t… but if you’re willing, I’d like to know something to call you.”

“James,” he answered after a tense pause. “James is fine.”

“Alright, James, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Upon opening the door, you instantly noticed three things about him: he was tall, he was big, and he was sexy.

You had sort of been hoping that his appearance wouldn’t match his voice, but it did, and it was going to make this so much harder.  Maybe easier in a few ways, but overall worse.  It was important that you didn’t get too emotionally invested with your clients.

His eyes were dragging over you like he was just as taken aback.  Which was odd, because he must have seen your picture online before he called you.  

“James,” you greeted. “Glad you made it.”

You stepped aside to let him enter, guiding him to take a seat in your living room.  Before clients came by, you hid any signs of life and kept the space as neutral as possible, which was why the only furniture was the white couch he sat on, the black chair across from it, and a glass table in between.

You sat in the black chair and crossed your legs, noticing with pride the way his eyes studied your every move.

“It’s important that we have a discussion about boundaries and limits before this goes any further," you explained sternly, and he nodded slightly.  "Tell me what you do and don't want."

“Uh, well, I guess I was just looking for… somebody who can administer, um, discipline… you know, someone who sets rules and enforces them.  But could also be kind of, uh, sweet I guess, to.  Not too sweet, just… not too mean either."

You smiled a little; he sounded right up your alley.  "I can do that."

"You should know I… I have a… disability.  My left arm it's, um, it's a prosthetic."

"How would you like me to accommodate that?"

"Just don't say anything about it, please.  Treat it like a normal arm.  And, uh, if you could ignore my scars, too…" he added awkwardly.

"Of course,” you nodded, “I would never want to make you feel insecure."

"Well, I mean, I'm not against degradation," he admitted sheepishly, making you smile a little.

"Right: that's different.  Anything else you're distinctly not against?"

“I can take a lot of pain,” he explained matter-of-factly.  “However much you think I can handle, double it.  I wanna feel it.”

You could almost hear the words he wasn’t saying: I wanna feel something.

“Okay, we can do that.  You’ve probably heard of the color system," you posited.

“I haven’t.”

"Oh."  That threw you off slightly… how new was he to this scene?  “Well, it’s traditionally green, yellow, red; like a stoplight.  Red means stop.  Yellow means proceed with caution.  Green means continue.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Too simple for me, in fact.  I have my own version: ‘red’ will make me stop what I’m doing, but only ‘black’ ends the scene entirely.  And then there’s ‘blue.’  That means you want more.”

He smirked a little; a strong show of emotion compared to his stoicism so far.  “I think I’ll use that one most.”

“Just don’t be afraid to use anything else, alright?  I’d never be disappointed in you for safewording, or even just needing a break.”

He nodded.  “Can we get to it then?”

“You’re rushing as always,” you laughed.  “I’m not charging you for this part.  We have plenty of time— don’t we?”

“Yes, but—” he sighed.  “You look really… I walked in and, I guess I’m just really looking forward to this.”

You almost would’ve smiled at the compliment but you thankfully suppressed it.  “And what is it that you’re looking forward to?  What do you want me to do to you?”

His jaw tightened as he looked away from you.  “Um, there’s a lot.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Ropes.  Strongest you have.  I can buy you stronger ones if you need them, for next time…”

He’s already thinking about next time?  He’s already thinking about buying me things?

“Alright, I can do ropes: wrists and ankles?  Or more than that?”

He seemed a bit confused by that question.  “Is there anywhere else?”

“Torso,” you enumerated, “neck—” you stopped because you saw his reaction to that, and it made you smile a bit.  “Okay, so maybe the neck is something to try.  Do you like being choked?”

“I… I don’t know…” he sighed.

“Have you ever been choked before?”

“Not… sexually...”

You felt your eyebrows rise, but didn’t want to press; a story for another time, perhaps.

“We’ll have to discuss silent safewords and signals so you can tap out, but if you’d be willing to try it—”

“Yes.”

You laughed.  “Eager, are we?”

He swallowed, and you wondered if you shouldn’t have let your ‘dom voice’ slip out in that moment… but he looked so good flustered like that.  He adjusted himself slightly in his chair and you hoped he was already hard.  And with that thought in mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him further.

“Do you like being called certain things?” you asked, voice lower as you leaned forward.  “How do you feel about ‘pet’?” 

He almost kept up his poker face, but his gaze faltered at the same time he moved in his chair again.  “Um, ‘pet’ is okay.”

“Baby boy?”

“Not really my speed,” he shrugged.

You slipped out of your chair and stood up, approaching him slowly as the click of your heels echoed across the tile.  He watched you with wide eyes and quickening breaths.

“What do you like?  Tell me,” you demanded, though you kept your tone light.

“Uh,” he paused, watching your hand as it rested on his leg, “I like… I like being called a good boy.”

You grinned as you pulled your hand away, watching him tense up with disappointment.  “I can do that,” you agreed, lifting his chin with a finger until he looked at you with those beautiful, desperate eyes, “if you actually are being a good boy for me.” “I will,” he promised quickly, “I’ll be so good.”

“Mmm, I bet you will,” you purred.  “So willing to please…”

“Tell me how,” he sighed as your hand trailed from his chin down to his chest, slipping under the loose collar of his henley and rubbing his chest.  “Tell me how to please you.”

“Well, for starters, I have a name, too: Mistress.”

He sighed like the wind had been knocked out of him, but nodded.

“And if I ask you a question, I expect you to answer ‘Yes, Mistress’ or ‘No, Mistress’.  Is that clear?”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed before suddenly correcting himself, “um, yes, Mistress.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” you frowned, “but further infractions will be punished.”

“Yes, Mistress; I’m sorry, Mistress,” he moaned, melting under your touch as your hand moved down to rub his thigh through his jeans.

“Now, just for fun,” you smiled, leaning down until your lips were nearly brushing his ear, “tell me what you want.”

“Please touch me, Mistress,” he sighed.

“But I am touching you.”

“Touch my… touch my cock," he clarified, adorably embarrassed. "It’s so hard for you…”

“We’ll get to that eventually.  Let’s go to the bedroom first, okay?”

However good he looked standing in your doorway half an hour ago, it was nothing compared to how he looked naked and hard and tied to your bed.

Yes, the prosthetic and the scars that attached it to his body were hard to ignore.  He had failed to warn you that it was metal, so you couldn’t hide the slight shift of your face when it caught the light; you hoped he didn’t think it was a look of judgment or disgust, because you truly didn’t think it was anything upsetting.  Maybe the scars were a little worrying… but they didn’t seem to bother him now, at least physically.

But truly, if anything was distracting about his body, it wasn’t the arm.  It was his muscles— no wait, it had to be his cock, right?  It’s tough to call: on one hand, his entire body was toned and hardened beyond the peak of human conditioning, his thick thighs making your mouth water already, his chiseled abs almost making you jealous; but on the other hand, between those lovely thighs and curving up against those perfect abs was a cock that rivalled anything you'd ever seen before, with a blue vein running up one side and a drip of precum rolling down the other.

You finally sauntered up to the bed and ran your fingers over the taught ropes, pretending to ignore him watching you impatiently.  It was almost hotter knowing that he could pull out of the ropes if he really wanted to.  More than most, he was choosing to submit to them and to you.

“How’s this knot feel?  Too tight?” you hummed, tugging the rope just beside his wrist and watching his hand move limply with it.

“No, it’s good.”

You stepped back to the foot of the bed and stripped slowly, peeling off your black dress to reveal a matching lace set underneath.  You left your heels on as you stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside.

Turning back to face him, James looked like he was all but drooling.  You could see in his eyes how much he wished the ropes weren’t holding him back so he could run his hands all over your body.

But you could tell he craved being denied what he wanted, by the way his cock flexed of its own volition.

You let yourself smile as you crawled your way up the bed and over his body, like a panther stalking its prey, and boy did he look ready to be devoured.

"Are you scared?" you asked quietly.  He shook his head.  "Are you ready?"

He nodded.  You sat up as you straddled him, positioned just right such that no part of you was really touching him, and watched with delight as he tugged against the ropes slightly to try to get closer.

"So needy," you grinned, somewhere between praising and scolding him.  Your fingers ghosted over his chest and he shivered; he asked you to treat his prosthetic like a normal arm, so you dragged your nails down the metal and watched his eyes flutter shut.  When you pulled your hand back and left him untouched again, he whined slightly.

“Aw, poor thing,” you pouted as you examined him, desperation emanating off of him in an invisible aura.  “Your cock is all red and leaking… it must hurt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

“What if I touch it a little?” you offered.

“Please…”

You traced your fingers lightly up and down his length, tickling the skin and giving him the least pressure that you could.  He whimpered and you chuckled mockingly.  “I said I’d touch it a little, sweet boy, are you not satisfied?”

He bucked up into your touch as best he could, causing you to pull your hand away.  “Baby, please—” 

You cut him off with a slap to the face, as hard as you could muster.

“Mistress!” he corrected with a whine.  “Mistress, please… please wrap your hand around it.”

“Around what?” 

“Around… my cock.  Stroke me, please…”

“All you had to do was ask,” you grinned, finally tightening your hand around him and moving slowly up and down the shaft.  His head fell back with a soft moan, just from that.  Your teasing had certainly helped get him this worked up, but you knew it wasn't just that… he was plenty sensitive all on his own, apparently.

It made your mouth water.

"Does this feel good, James?" you asked huskily.

"S-so good," he whimpered, "please can you… stroke it a little faster, please, Mistress…"

"Hmm, not yet," you decided, feeling him tense up beneath you.  "Relax," you instructed with a free hand rubbing his thigh gently.  

You continued to teasingly stroke his length, never quite giving him the pressure or speed he needed to get closer to his release, savoring every whimper and whine and sigh from him along with the satisfying weight of his cock against your palm.

It felt like you'd never get tired of wielding so much power in your hand.

"Please," he sighed, "I need more…"

"You want me to stroke you faster?" you pressed, already knowing that wasn't what he meant.  He shook his head and you grinned, leaning in closer but letting go of his cock. 

Slowly, you let the lace covering your core rub up against his shaft, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.  "Ohhhhh," he moaned, "oh fuck, Mistress…"

You grinned and kept rocking against him, easily feeling the warmth of him through your panties— meaning he, in turn, could feel the warmth of you.  "How does it feel, baby?" 

"Good," he choked out, "really, really good… fuck, I want more, I need more, please…"

"Are you my good boy, James?" you asked in a low purr.  He nodded eagerly, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nothing.  "Do you want to be inside me?" you finally whispered against his ear, letting a finger run lazily up his spine and feeling him shiver so hard it was more like he was convulsing.

"Please, Mistress, I'll do anything…"

You didn't touch all of your clients sexually, due in part to the fact that they usually wanted a lot more pain than pleasure.  You'd only had sex with one or two of them, and it wasn't a routine thing.  Before today you never would've imagined doing this with a first-time client, but to be completely honest… he was fucking hot.  The kind of guy you'd be spreading your legs for instantly if you weren't at work and he wanted to buy you a drink or grab lunch.  And he was here, at your disposal, begging you for more.  How could you say no?  

You pulled your panties aside and gripped his cock tightly to guide it to your entrance, studying his face twisted in anticipation before sinking down and watching him gasp and sigh all at once, somehow.

It took a lot of effort to hide your own pleasure when he was stretching you out so perfectly, but you managed to suppress the desire to moan and just smile at his fucked-out expression instead.

Finally, your hips met with his and you got to sit there and enjoy the look of dawning agony as he realized you were staying completely still.

“Move, please,” he sobbed, “oh god, Mistress, please move…”

“But I thought you wanted to be inside me?  Isn’t this what you asked for?”

He whined and tried to wiggle his hips; all that got him was two hard slaps to the face.  

“No whining,” you instructed through your teeth.  “Good boys don’t whine.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “‘m your good boy, I promise.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “or at least, I know you can be.  Show me how good and patient you are.”

Reaching to the side a bit without getting off of him, you pulled a vibrator from your drawer.  His eyes went a little wide when he saw it, and you laughed.

"Don't worry, this isn't for you.  It's for me," you explained as you turned it on, inserting it between your body and his to touch the toy against your clit.  He winced as you sighed contentedly.  "Fuck, it feels good.  Can you feel it on your cock?"

"A… a little…" he hissed.

"I bet it feels good for you too," you posited, "but not good enough to make you come."

After a little pause, he nodded breathlessly.

"Good," you smiled.  "I just wanna come with your cock inside me.  I wanna know how it feels to get off with my favorite toy while being full of my newest toy."

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Do you like that, pretty boy?  Do you like me using your cock, being your Mistress' dumb little fucktoy?"

"Yes," he sobbed, hips shifting ever so slightly beneath you as he sought more stimulation from your flexing walls.  Shifting the vibe to hit right on your clit, you cried out— and he did too, at the feeling of you tightening around him.

"God, you love being Mistress' dildo, don't you?"

He nodded, biting hard on his lip until you worried he'd hurt himself.  He moaned again as another jolt of pleasure forced your channel to clench on his cock.

"You're making too much noise for a fucktoy, you need to be quiet."

He opened his mouth for a second, but closed it again and nodded instead.  

"You can do it yourself right?" you pressed, seeing him nod.  "You don't need me to gag that pretty mouth?" 

He whined but shook his head, keeping his lips pressed together.

That went on for a few more moments as you teased yourself with the vibe, hoping to draw this out for the sake of his struggle.  Wanting to up the ante, you took the vibe off your clit and turned it off for a moment.  "I think this would feel better with a little lube… will you get it wet for me, James?"

You brought the toy to his lips and he eagerly wrapped them around it, sucking lightly on the silicone with those pretty lashes resting on his cheeks.

"There you go, that's a good boy," you praised, pulling the toy from his mouth, "that's my good boy…"

"Yours…" he repeated weakly, "wanna be good for you, just for you…"

This time when you turned it on and pressed it to your clit again, you instantly gasped and felt your walls bare down on him; turning up the vibration, you actually moaned aloud and saw him wince.  "Oh, can you feel it now?" you asked tauntingly.  He bit his lip and nodded.

It really wasn't even intentional but you felt your hips start to rock, making him gasp as his eyes shot open.  For a guy who had been begging you to move not too long ago, he looked pretty overwhelmed by it now.

"Fuck, I'm gonna make myself come on your cock… do you wanna feel me come, baby?"

He seemed conflicted, which was exactly what you were going for.  You wanted him to struggle, just enough, between his need to satisfy himself and his desire to please you.  "I… I want to make you come, Mistress," he finally choked out, notably answering a slightly different question than the one you'd asked.  

You smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear: "Are you afraid that if you feel me come around you, you won't be able to hold back?  That you might accidentally come inside me?"

He made a needy little groan and nodded.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna help you," you promised sweetly, but of course as soon as he saw you grab a cockring from your drawer he changed his tune.

"N-no, Mistress, please," he begged with wide eyes, "I'll be good, just not that— don't put that on me."

You smirked and sat up, pulling off of him and slowly slipping the ring on his throbbing length as he quietly pleaded for mercy.  He winced when you pushed it down to the base of him, his cheeks burning hot red now.

"Is it a little too tight, baby?" you cooed, grinning when he nodded.  "Good."

You sank back down into him and let your hips grind on his, working your clit with the vibe and even kicking it up to the next highest setting.  He jolted beneath you, clearly feeling the vibrations strongly now, and you let the view of his beautifully broken facial expression egg on your own climax.

"Mm, I'm close, baby," you whispered, "just stay still and let Mistress use you like a good little boy."

He made a small noise through his teeth but seemed to manage okay, even when your walls began to pulse rhythmically around him and your head fell back, your free hand palming at your breast through the lace bra just to add that last little edge of sensation.

"Oh fuck, fuck," you moaned, "that's my good boy…"

You shakily pulled the vibe away and turned it off, still a little numb on your clit but feeling your channel still rippling slightly with aftershocks; he seemed to feel them in spite of their subtlety, if the panting breaths that filled his muscular chest rapidly were any indication.

As slow as you could manage, you pulled your body off of him and sat back on his legs to stare at his cock.  The remnants of your orgasm left plenty of lubrication to stroke it, focusing on the head which had turned almost purple now.

"M-Mistress," he groaned, writhing under your touch.

Amazingly, his cock was already flexing in your hand, and a growl of pride and hunger echoed in your chest.

“Oh fuck, can you come for me, James?” you moaned, pumping him so fast your hand was a blur.  “Can you be my good boy and come right through the cockring?”

“Yes,” he sobbed, “gonna come, Mistress, please—”

“Come right now,” you demanded, watching his face instantly fall slack as he spurted out onto his own chest and stomach, cock flexing and pulsing in your hands as his legs quivered and his hips thrusted wildly.

And the tears were flowing soon after.  You weren’t sure if it was sub drop or just the power of his release, but between weak sobs he whispered broken apologies.

“You did so good,” you cooed as you slipped off the ring and wrapped your arms around him, subtly trying to reach over to untie the ropes.  But you didn’t need to; he flexed his arms and the restraints popped like floss.  He embraced you in return as you let his head fall onto your chest.  “You’re so good, it’s okay,” you continued, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, breathing quickly and wetting you with his tears.

This, you realized, is what he had made you sign the contract to protect.  It wasn’t that he was excessively embarrassed about his sexual proclivities, but that this was his space to be soft, and weak, and broken.  Apparently he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know that he wasn’t steel all the way down.

“Shh, it’s okay… you’re okay…” you breathed, indulging him in this moment even though it was more intimate than you preferred to get with customers.  Aftercare was an important part of your job, certainly, but so was enforcing boundaries.

He began to soothe as you kissed his forehead gently, whispering well-deserved affirmations and praise.  As his breathing slowed and moved back to normal, he pulled back and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated one more time, but not as wavering as before, “I didn’t think I would… that was unexpected.”

“No, it’s somewhat normal,” you exaggerated slightly, “this kind of thing… it’s taxing, I pushed you to your limits.  You were really tough, and it’s all very vulnerable.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, sniffling and wiping his eyes.  “And sorry about your ropes,” he smiled as he noticed the frayed ends coming off of where his wrists were still tied.

“Let me help you get those off,” you smiled, loosening the knots and sliding the binds off of him, quickly massaging the places that the rope had constricted.  “Blood flow’s okay?”

“Yep,” he nodded.

“You numb anywhere?” you pressed.

“Uh, just my dick.  And my brain is all fuzzy…” 

You smiled.  “Can’t help the first one.  Let me get you some water for the second.”

“No!” he yelped suddenly.  “Um, don’t go yet, please…”

“Of course,” you smiled.  “I’ll untie your ankles, then.”

He still seemed disappointed, as if he expected you to hug him for hours and never move.  He let you go this time, though, and loosened his grip so you could slide down to the foot of the bed.  

"Was that sort of what you were hoping for when you called me?" you asked as you untied the ropes slowly and took a moment to massage the skin underneath, hoping to restore any lost blood flow.

"So much better than what I was hoping for," he admitted with a breathless chuckle.  "You're… really good."

"Well, thank you," you shrugged, "it comes with practice and experience.  You held your own, too."

"I wish I could say that was from practice and experience.  I didn't want to say anything before but I've, uh, never actually… been to a domme before."

You smiled slightly, coming back up and being pulled into another embrace.  "Um, I'll admit I can kind of tell…" you mumbled.

"I'm not supposed to touch you like this," he realized quietly, relaxing his grip on you and pulling back.  "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, just don't get too comfortable because we only have—" you glanced at the clock— "eight more minutes until you need to leave."

"I'll get up and get dressed soon," he offered with a sigh as you got up and quickly slipped on a robe, grabbing him a damp washcloth for the drying come on his torso.

You tilted your head as you watched him clean up, and you wanted to offer some touch that was a bit less intimate than a hug, so you found yourself blurting out: "do you like having your hair played with?"

"Um, I don't… I don't know," he admitted as he reached up to card his fingers through the hair in question.  "No one else has ever really touched my hair before."

"Really?" you laughed, getting back on the bed to sit beside him.  "It looks pretty luscious.  I figured any girlfriend of yours would want to get her hands on it."

"Oh, well, the last time I had a girlfriend… it wasn't long then," he explained, and you kept on your best poker face.  His hair looked like he'd been growing it out for at least two years, unless it grew crazy fast or something.  How long had he been single?  With a body like that you could barely believe that he was single now.

"Do you mind if I touch it?" you offered quietly, and once he gave you a nod you reached forward and combed your fingers through it, reaching deeper to scratch at his scalp, occasionally pulling the strands lightly into loose braid-like patterns that fell away almost immediately afterwards.  He sank into your touch until you found yourself supporting his head against your chest, mindlessly playing with his hair until you noticed his eyes were shut, his breathing was slowed, and his body was limp on top of yours.

He fell asleep.

You laughed silently to yourself, realizing that you couldn't get him off of you without his cooperation since he was so heavy and you had no shot at lifting him.  And, of course, his cooperation required his consciousness… which required waking him up.

And, for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do it.  He just looked too peaceful, for a guy who had never seemed truly relaxed around you.

Was there any other way he could relax?  Cause it kinda seemed like he really, really needed this.  And you were in the business of meeting needs, to say the least.

So, with an apologetic text to your last client of the night that you needed to reschedule, you let James sleep on you as you closed your eyes and drifted off as well.

[hoodiewithhorns]

━  using your safeword scenarios p.3 !★

genre : hurt/comfort smut.

characters : f! reader x sakusa, matsukawa, kenma

p.1  + p.2 + m.sterlist + requests  

(please read the rules before requesting ty.)

▼ cw : not proof read, use of safeword, neglect , unprotected sex, degradation , clit spanking ( 1 ), impact play ( sakusas part ), mentions of exe(s), caught masturbation (reader) , pillow humping, thigh riding, implied punishment, kinda crybaby reader, implied cockwarming, cheating (?), angst, established relationship, all characters are 18+, MDNI ▲

different safewords used this time <3

- ty to the anons and user @/please-take-me-to-the-moon for the scenarios <3 

sakusa 

word count : 1.4k

you knew better than to do this, humping your dearly beloved boyfriends pillow with just your cotton panties, a loose shirt with no bra under, like a bitch in heat, desperate for friction of any kind. You knew if he had caught you like this he would punish you that was guaranteed. however, in the literal heat of the moment you didn’t care. sakusa’s constant pattern of coming home the minute you were already fast asleep in your shared bed, never being able to fill the void of need in your little cunt. 

〜　☆

Considering he’d let this slide since its been a month since you’ve two have done anything sexual, these thoughts only making you hump his pillow even more desperate leaving a pool of your arousal staining his pillow, with the occasional soft whimpers of his name. losing yourself in your own lust, You didn’t hear the sound of the door clicking open.

Sakusa, leaving his practice early since his performance was unfavorable by the shitty mood he was in, lashing out on his teammates for the smallest things they’d do and so many more. in short, his team suggested he’d stay home t’ill he cooled down. 

“y/n? i’m home.”he walked around the empty apartment accompanied by the muffles of your soft moans, trying to find you as quickly as possible, obviously knowing it was you. he opened the bedroom door slowly and quietly. his eyes grew wide at the scene in front of him. 

still not noticing his presence in the door frame you continued humping his pillow feeling your high approach, but leave you since you needed him. 

“tch.” clicking his tongue at you in disapproval. you flinched letting go of his pillow to face him, feeling your heart race when you made eye contact with him, arms folded and a look of disgust planted on his pale face. Your eyes already filling up with tears knowing what comes next. “m’ y-yoomi! w-welcome home-”

“who the fuck gave you permission to touch yourself?” cutting you off, walking towards the bed, he pinned you down to the bed, arms on your sides, hovering over you with his dead, cold, heartless gaze cutting through you, as you tried to look away in shame only earning you a slap to the face to make you look at him. the sting causing you to choke out a sob. praying internally that he’d let you off the hook just this once. you were just needy for him.he has to understand that, right?

“answer me, right.now.”

“n-no one yoomi... i’m s-sorry please don’t wanna be punished!” you pleaded to him only making him more angrier. he grabbed your jaw making you whimper at the tight grip. scanning you top to bottom, eyeing at the wet patch on your underwear. 

“then why did you huh? couldn’t wait until i got home couldn’t you? needy fucking thing.” he tutted, letting go of your jaw harshly, tugging your panties down to your knees already feeling impatient himself by how his cock hardened through his shorts. despite wanting to punish you, he wanted you. needed you to be precise.

 the man hasn’t felt you in a whole month how could he not miss his girlfriends tight slutty cunt? removing his volleyball shorts letting his cock spring free, he strokes himself a few times before lining himself against your cunt, letting a small sigh when you felt his hard tip touch your soaked entrance. 

feeling slightly relief you were finally gonna feel him after so long. That feeling of relief however didn’t last long when he slammed his fat cock inside you without warning. you let out a yelp, hands immediately going to his chest hoping for him to not bruise your cervix from how deep he was already. he growled when he felt your palms try and stop him, so he slapped your hands away roughly marking them red. 

“b-but yoomi please it hurts..it h-hurts” 

you figured he didn’t hear you. but he was too focused on punishing you to care if it hurt or not. so you pleaded again for him to slow down. finally getting a response from him.

“shut up you disgusting whore.you brought this on yourself, touching yourself while your boyfriends away.”

“...dirtying up his fucking pillow while he’s gone. how fucking pathetic.”  he spits, slapping your clit harshly in attempt to get you to shut up. his degrading not having a hint of reassurance anywhere like it usually does when he fucks you. normally, he’d call you his “slut” or his whore but never ever calling you a disgusting one at most, what did this mean?..you asked yourself, mind going hazy with fear. feeling like your boyfriend finds you disgusting for your actions, and not a single trace of love or concern for you, not even noticing how you tried inching yourself away from his pace. 

sakusa was a mean dom yes, but he cared about you and your boundaries and right now it seemed like he didn’t care about any of those.

too focused on his own pleasure, not realizing you slowly started to breakdown in front of him, hands to your eyes shaken from how hard he hit them, as more tears fell to stain your cheeks.

“n-no not disgusting..i-i’m...so sorry..sakusa..just missed you.” you muttered no longer feeling the long needed pleasure of his cock, only feeling a painful discomfort in your chest as if your heart was gonna burst out of it at any minute. he was caught off-guard by you calling him by his last name, but that didn’t stop the brutal pace on your sloppy cunt. repositioning his hand to your hips digging his nails in your sides, bound to leave marks to be seen in the morning. 

“addressing me by my last name? what you think thats gonna make things better?”he muses, his pace speeding up making you whimper. you’ve just about had enough.

“germs! g-germs! no more, i don’t like this!! y-you’re hurting m-me sakusa... please s-stop..stop.” screaming your safeword, trying to get him off you, you pushed with the little strength in you with your fragile hands. it wasn’t enough but he got the message. blinking a few times to make sure he processed the current situation.

he sighed pulling his cock out watching you with wolf eyes as you softly cried to yourself, turning to your side. he didn’t say anything he just laid down beside you. sneaking an arm around your waist, face buried in your neck. he planted some soft kisses onto it trying to make you relax. if he was being brutally honest, he didn’t know what to do.

you never used your safeword and even if it didn’t show in his face, he was pretty frightened. watching you tense up and shake around him all because of him.

“ y-yoomi..im sorry-”

“don’t be.”

he rubs your hands with his thumb in slow but comforting circles, seeing its still red from being slapped away by him, along with him kissing your cheek to simmer down the sting from earlier. god he felt so bad, but was so scared at the same time, all he wanted to do was hold you close..

..and thats what he did, watching you curl up to his chest. The room was silent for a few minutes that felt like hours gone by. you looked up at him with the look you always gave him. Full of love and adoration even with puffy eyes and hurt in your chest you still loved him.

He looked down noticing the soft smile you gave him as if nothing happened. Titling his head in confusion he asks

“why are you smiling? aren’t you upset..at me?”

you shook your head at him, “no yoomi I’m not mad. My body kinda hurts yes, but I’m glad to have you home...i missed you so much I’m sorry i touched myself without permission...”

he lightly smiles at you kissing your lips softly.

“it’s okay. tomorrow we’ll have the day all to ourselves and we can do whatever you want my love. I’m sorry i was so mean... i was having a bad day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

you paused leaning in closer to his chest as you mumbled.

“can we...take a bath together yoomi?”

“oh sure...here i’l carry you.”

needless to say, you forgave him and gave him one last kiss before going to bed.

kenma

word count : 886

kenmas work schedule was god awful since he was practically up to play games and just that leaving you feeling needy and neglected. you hated it. 

but tonight you were just, so needy and couldn’t stand this constant neglect.

No matter how many times you touched yourself of grind against something it couldn’t compare to the way kenma would stuff you with his cock.

he wasn’t a super harsh dom leaning towards a mix of soft and mean, but he still prioritized your needs before his. and tonight you were gonna get that version of kenma.

walking towards the couch he was playing his games at slowly, with nothing but his hoodie and knee highs. you bit your lip standing in front of him, fiddling your thumbs out of nervousness. He titled his head to remove you from his line of sight to see the tv screen better making your heart ache just a little, being so used to it already.

taking a deep breath you sat in between on of his thighs wrapping your arms around his neck making him let out a groan of annoyance to your needy antics.

he continued to play his game acting as if you weren’t there and nothing changed. it all came to a halt when he felt you grinding on his thigh, letting out small cries of his name.

“baby.... please” you mumbled facing his disinterested face not even sharing a glance at you as he continued to move his thumbs around his controllers joystick. He didn’t even pay mind to the fact you were borderline naked either.

“five minutes pretty girl.” he muttered still too absorbed in his game. You pouted shifting your legs to be wrapped around him now, wet cunt on top of his crotch rubbing against him lightly. Making him flinch at the sudden friction. giving you hope he’d give you what you want now. you smirked continuing to grind against him making him bite back a grunt. 

“ugh what are you doing?” he said clearly annoyed by your antics already.

your face became red while placing your hands on his shoulders slowly starting to grind against his growing bulge. “want your attention kenma please need you so bad.” you begged hoping he’d give you something anything really.

but being kenma, he went back to his video games. your pout returning once more. “but kenma, please i really really need you.” you continued with your antics and he paused his game, putting his controller on the coffee table. 

“fine you want me so fucking bad?” he grabs you by the hips making you yelp as he throws you down the couch. back hitting the cushions while he takes your legs and wraps them around his waist.

he pulls down his sweats pumping himself a few times as he rolls his head back, holding back his grunts. he slowly slides his cock into you, being easy to do considering how wet you were already for him. 

he groans as he bottoms out inside you starting steady, but slowly picking up the pace to be more..brutal.

“k-kenma..m’ feels good thank you thank you” you rambled out praises making him grab you by the throat to thrust into you faster. 

“god you’re so fucking annoying bothering me because you wanted to get your cunt stuffed like a little slut while i fucking work.” he scoffs making your eyes shoot open at him.

“such a fucking annoying little slut.” he continues his degradation thr grip on your throat not loosening. you felt you eyes grow teary as he continued to call you more vulgar names with the sprinkle of him calling you annoying. 

“ c-console...” you mumbled wrapping your hands on his wrists, making him let go of your throat. he froze getting closer to your face as he pulls out slowly.

“huh? Whats wrong does it hurt?” he asks rubbing away your tears with the pad of his thumb. 

your lip quivered as more tears started to form. “...i-im annoying...?” you looked him in his eyes as more broken sobs leave you.

“I just wanted some attention kenma...you’re always so busy sometimes I don’t even think you remember i exist..” you muttered feeling small under his cat like stare. 

he sighed kissing your cheek, falling to your. side feeling his breath hit your neck. “sorry baby i swear i didn’t mean it...you’re not annoying its my fault for not giving you attention.” he admits as you wrap around him. 

“y-you promise you didn’t mean it?” you ask once more. he sneaks a hand under your head to lift you up to his chest, patting your head softly. 

“ i promise. here why don’t you sit on my lap, we can do that thing you wanted to try last week...” he looks away embarrassed, you tilt your head in confusion but then realize what he was referring to. you nodded joyfully wrapping your arms around his neck, he adjusts himself for you to line up to take him. he  slowly puts you back down on his cock. hissing at the returning feeling.

He smiled kissing your forehead lightly as he hugged you tight. 

“better my love?”

“mhm mhm!” you said placing your head on his shoulder as you relax into him. slowly drifting away into sleep. its not much, but at-least it stuffs your very needy cunt.

matsukawa 

word count : 615

what lead to this? you two were just on a simple date together at a nearby mall shopping together, looking at upcoming movies, stopping by a few manga stores and bakeries to treat yourselves. overall, just enjoying the time shared together. 

that is t’ill the two of ran into your ex. issei watching the two of you talk to each other not realizing how uncomfortable you really were, hiding it with a friendly facade of course going unnoticed by him since he was practically death glaring your ex. 

he was basically third wheeling in your conversation with your ex. you would side eye issei hoping he’d pull you out of your situation but it was too late since his mind was cloudy with jealousy and rage.  

now, leading up to your current predicament. a heavy make-out now leading to a degradation fest.  

“aw whats wrong little slut can’t take me, fucking pathetic much?” he teases pounding you at a faster pace. “can’t believe my own fucking girlfriend was just there being all friendly to her ex..what don’t tell me you still want him?” he muses making you rapidly shake your head. 

“ no i don’t i swear issei..just wan’ you..”you muttered eyes growing puffy from how cruel he spoke to you as he continued to suggest away of how would get him back since it seemed like you missed him from how friendly you were acting.

growing quiet at his words trying to tune out his words. it’ll all be over soon anyways, you just had to hold on a bit you told yourself. of course you were an idiot for letting him keep going. 

“ maybe i should go ask how kimi’s doing act all friendly and nice towards her.” you tuned into what issei had said in horror at what he just said.

kimi, his much prettier ex who t’ill this day wasn’t over him and he knew this. throwing it in your face as he darkly chuckled at you. you removed your arms that were wrapped around his neck pulling him close. and cupped your face in your hands at the thought of your boyfriend going back to his ex. leaving you alone again.

he wouldn’t right? even though she was much prettier in every feature she had compared to you. he wouldn’t right..? right? 

“f-funeral...“you sniffled making him stop all his movements and lock eyes with you. your safeword ringing in his ears. 

“hey..hey no i didn’t mean it...” he quickly pulls you towards him, pulling you out of him and hugging you tight. he rocks you softly back and forth in his embrace letting all your bottle up feelings burst onto him.  he quick to comfort you and pepper a few kisses on your face.

“ issei..” you mumbled against his chest. he rubs your back looking down at you.

“yes baby..?” his voice shaken with worry hoping you weren’t too mad at him.

“ i-i don’t miss him.. i was only being nice..i was uncomfortable talking to him why didn't you..” he internally punches himself for being so blind and not being able to see by all your movements how uncomfortable you were just breathing the same air as your ex.

he was too blinded by his jealousy to realize his poor baby was scared. he mumbled a curse before apologizing.

“i’m sorry baby i didn’t realize he was making you uncomfortable i should've done something..” his eyes wander away from you.

“ i was just jealous..” he admits

“but issei.. you’re all i want.” you say kissing his cheek and he smiles gracefully. 

“am i-i all you want sei?”

“ duh pretty baby. everything  i want and need.”

matsukawas is so short i’m so sorry ahhhh but i hope u all enjoyed <3

[musclesandhammering]

Every Single Issue I Have With S*lki (It’s Not Just The Selfcest)

Here goes. I threatened to post this a few days ago and never did, but I just saw a s*lki stan Twitter account claim that Loki caring about Sylvie more than the whole multiverse was a Good And Romantic thing and it pushed me over the fucking edge, so now you all have to read this. I’ve divided it into categories cause there’s just THAT much.

OOC Bullshit

• First and foremost, no amount of mental gymnastics you do will ever make me believe that this specific Loki- the one that just invaded New York, that just came off a year of Thanos Torture, that just got done being influenced by the sceptre, that was literally in the middle of a crisis already, and then on top of that went through all the trauma of Ep 1- would even be worried about a romantic relationship. That would be the furthest thing from his mind. Go back and watch how he acted in Avengers- you think that guy would abandon his previous mission to become a snivelling simp for a girl he’d just met 3 days prior? Yeah, there’s no universe in which that makes sense.

• “It’s very in character for Loki to fall in love with himself lololol-“ NO, it’s literally not. Out of all the characters in the mcu, I don’t think I can think of anyone that genuinely hates themselves more than Loki. He even referred to all his other male variants as “monsters” and said meeting them was “a nightmare” in this series. He’s got so much self-loathing, plus the fact that he genuinely thinks himself to be an evil backstabbing scourge- so there’s no evidence at all suggesting that he would ever develop a fondness for, or even be inclined to trust, another version of himself, after only knowing them for 3 days.

• Building on that, the whole concept of Loki falling in love with a version of himself just feeds into the annoying ass misconception that he’s a narcissist. No matter which way you stack it, he’s not. If you’re referring to NPD, he doesn’t fit the criteria, and if you’re saying “narcissist” just as a slang term meaning “selfish and arrogant”, that still doesn’t accurately describe him. But when creators like Waldron and Herron do things like having him fall in love with himself, it makes it so much easier for casual viewers to think that he is.

Shitty LGBT Rep

• It’s kinda sus that Loki’s are allegedly genderfluid and yet the only female-presenting variant we see (and apparently the only female-presenting variant there is, cause the male Loki’s all seemed unfamiliar with the concept) is treated as some kind of mind-bogglingly special paradox. Also very sus that, out of all the Loki variants, the one our Loki falls in love with just so happens to be the only female one. What a coincidence.

• The fact that the creators of the show went around bragging about Loki’s bisexuality and Marvel purposefully (lbr) allowed stories about Loki possibly having a male love interest to circulate, specifically enticing queer viewers to watch the show (you know, the definition of queerbaiting), and then instead of having a male love interest (Loki was the first queer main character, so it was the perfect opportunity) they gave us *gestures to this dumpster fire* this… it’s just a middle finger to LGBT fans. The fact that they would rather have this relationship with all its myriad of problems than have a gay relationship is just……. Very telling.

• While him being with a woman obviously doesn’t refute his bisexuality, the fact that they showed/talked about him being interested in 3 different women (flight attendant, Sylvie, Sif) and never even hinted at him being attracted to a man, definitely makes it seem like they were trying to cover up his bisexuality to smooth things over with the more homophobic viewers. You know? It’s like “I know you’re pissed that we sorta confirmed Loki as bi, so we promise we’ll never mention it again! Or even hint at it! As a matter of fact, we’ll give him lots of female lovies and make him seem as straight as possible! That’ll take your mind off of that horrible crumb of queer rep, right? Please please please keep giving us your money!!!”

• Aside from all the other issues, at its core, the biggest reason why I think I’m so irritated with s*lki is that it took one of the most interesting, complex, and diverse characters in cinema atm and squished him into a tired ass unnecessary heteronormative subplot…. Like literally every. single. other. protagonist. ever. Loki is such a unique character, and it’s so so so incredibly disappointing that they stuck him into that same boring cookie cutter romance that happens to every other character in every other movie I’ve ever seen. It’s a disservice, and it’s honestly just not compelling or entertaining at all.

Thematic Issues Galore

• His arc didn’t need a romance. With anyone. It was unnecessary and it didn’t make sense plot-wise. In fact, one of the reasons he was my fav prior to this was because he was the only big-name mcu character whose story wasn’t muddied-up by a romance that didn’t need to be there. So much for that.

• He wasn’t emotionally ready for a romantic relationship with anyone. Hell, just a genuine friendship would’ve been pushing it for him at this point. He was in such a bad state that any relationship he got into would’ve been toxic and unhealthy for both him and the other person, and it doesn’t make sense why the writers would want to put him in one when there were so many cons and essentially no pros (other than “Uwu aren’t they cute together”).

• Sylvie’s character in general was unnecessary and Loki’s character was robbed just by her being there. The whole show became about her post-Ep 2. They spent most of the time giving her backstory, building her up, telling us how awesome she is, trying to convince us to like her, etc when what they really needed to be doing was building Loki up- cause I gotta say, if I had to describe TVA!Loki in a few words, they would be Flat, Boring, and Weak.

• The romance overtakes the plot. They spend time portraying their supposed connection that could’ve been spent adding depth and complexity to literally any of the characters. They make the big Nexus Event them giving each other googly eyes on Lamentis when it could’ve been so many other way more profound things that speak to the fundamental nature of Loki’s. They have the climax of the finale be “oh no she betrayed him to kill He Who Remains” when it could’ve been something way more compelling (Loki having a moral crisis over whether or not to kill HWR, Loki contemplating the state of the multiverse and weighing the pros and cons of freedom vs order, Loki looking into some What If situations and getting emotional about what could’ve been regarding his family, Loki realising the gravity of HWR’s offer and finally coming to terms with how important he is to the universal cycle, etc etc). The entire plot suffered in favour of a romance that half of us didn’t even want.

• It essentially reduced all of Loki’s potential character growth down to “He did it for his crush.” He seemed to at least have some motivations of his own in Ep 1-2 (feeble as they were) but after Sylvie showed up in Ep 3, literally every action he took was just him being a simp for her. Why did he lie in the interrogation? To try to protect Sylvie. Why did he fight the minutemen and Timekeepers? To survive kinda, but mostly cause it was important to Sylvie. Why did he get pruned? Cause he got distracted trying to confess his crush to Sylvie. Why did he try to get out of The Void? Cause he thought Sylvie needed him. Why did he stay in The Void? Cause Sylvie was staying. Why did he try to enchant Alioth? Cause Sylvie told him to. Why did the multiverse get cracked open, leading to an infinite number of Kangs waging war on all of existence? Cause Loki didn’t wanna hurt Sylvie in their fight at the Citadel and then get distracted by her kissing him. It’s uninteresting and honestly pretty embarrassing.

• Throughout their “relationship arc” the writers do their absolute damndest to convince us that we should like Sylvie more than Loki. And you know what? It’s the most hypocritical shit I’ve ever seen. They preach and preach about how Sylvie’s life has been so difficult/we should feel bad for her/she had it so bad/poor poor sylvie/she had it SO much worse than pampered prince Loki…. But then they never even touch on any of Loki’s trauma of hardships (the ones that have been ignored for literally 3 movies now). They frame Sylvie as a good person and a Freedom Fighter after she spent literal decades/centuries mass-murdering brainwashed TVA agents and showing exactly zero remorse for it….. but then they make it their mission to constantly remind us that Loki is a terrible person and constantly put him in situations where he’s forced to acknowledge his wrongdoings/show remorse/admit to how “evil” he is for being a mass murderer for like 2 years. They show him on-screen having a wider range of powers than her, and perpetuate his whole shtick of being a “master manipulator” or whatever….. But then they make Sylvie “the brawn” more competent, intelligent, and physically capable than him. Tell me how it’s a good thing for a ship to be so narratively biased toward one character.

Missed Opportunities

• If they absolutely had to have a romance subplot, then they could’ve paired Loki with one of the characters that have already been established OR one of the characters that were a big part of the whole TVA storyline anyway. It would’ve been so interesting if they’d revealed that Loki had a history with some of the players from previous films (Sif and Fandral both come to mind). It also would’ve been really interesting if they’d given Loki a love interest that actually had some allegiance to the TVA as a whole (Mobius maybe, but not necessarily. It also could’ve been Renslayer or B-15). Hell, imo it would’ve been cool if they’d followed through with that “See you again someday” line that he said to the flight attendant in Ep 1. ALL of these characters have way more chemistry with him than Sylvie, and they were also already relevant to the plot without wasting half the show to give background info on them.

• If they absolutely had to have a hetero-presenting love story involving an enchantress-type figure, then there’s a whole Enchantress (Amora) that was actually Loki’s love interest in the comics. Plus, fans have been screaming for Amora to appear in the mcu for years. Plus, Tom literally pitched an Amora/Loki storyline way back in 2012-13. Also, Lorelei (another enchantress) is also one of Loki’s love interests in the comics, and she already exists in the mcu (she was on Agents of SHIELD). There were several different established characters for them to choose from. Creating a whole knew amalgamation of a character and going with the “she’s a Loki variant” storyline was just completely unnecessary and made no sense.

• They completely robbed us of a Chaos Twins dynamic. Had they handled Sylvie better and not forced her and Loki to smooch, the two of them could’ve had a really really complex and interesting sibling relationship. Loki could’ve stepped into Thor’s shoes and sort of used that new role to gain some self importance, and Sylvie could’ve finally had somebody to look out for her/teach her magic/be there for her. It would’ve been very aesthetically pleasing, the vibes would’ve been out of this world, it would’ve been way more profound than this bs, and frankly it would’ve been much more entertaining to watch.

• Loki’s relationship (read: obsession) with Sylvie completely overshadows all Loki’s other relationships in the show. Loki and Mobius were literally the focal point of the series in Ep 1-2, but after Sylvie showed up in Ep 3, they barely had any interactions with each other, and Mobius pretty much faded to the background entirely. Loki had the beginnings of a pretty interesting antagonistic relationship with Renslayer (with her wanting him pruned, then arguing with Mobius that he couldn’t be trusted), but after Sylvie showed up the dynamic shifted to focus on the history between her and Ravonna. Loki and B-15 started off very badly and openly disliked each other throughout Ep 1-2, and then in the end of Ep 2, Loki showed a little bit of concern for her when she was possessed, hinting that they might be inching toward a reconciliation- especially considering how obvious it was that Loki was gonna uncover the TVA’s sins eventually. There was so much potential for him to be the one to give her her memories back and convince her to change sides, but no, of course that honor went to Sylvie. In fact, after Sylvie showed up, Loki and B-15 never even spoke to each other again.

Various S*lki Fails

• If they were trying to convince us that this affection was mutual, they completely failed. There’s nothing I’ve seen that even hints at Sylvie feeling the same way about Loki that he does about her. At most, I’d say she has a slight endearment to him. She finds him likeable and she’s grudgingly fond of him, but she definitely isn’t in love with the guy. Maybe she thinks he’s cute and hopes that he gets out of this mess alright, but her mission obviously comes before him- whereas, it’s been confirmed multiple times that Loki cares about her above anything else. She doesn’t trust him, she looks at him like he’s an incompetent fool half the time, she shows little to no reaction during most of his confession moments, and she kissed him as a means to distract him so that she could get him out of her way. Look, all I’m saying is, when you get into a relationship where one of you is way more invested than the other, it never ends well.

• This goes without saying for a lot of us, but the selfcest is just straight up odd and cringey. If you’re cool with that sort of thing, fine! People can ship what they want! But don’t pretend it’s not at least a little bit uncomfortable. Yes, I know they’re not technically siblings so it’s not technically incest, and they’re also not technically the exact same person, but they’re similar enough that it makes things weird. And yes I know selfcest can’t happen in real life, so there’s no way to judge it morally, but neither can most of the other stuff that happens in these shows/movies (the Snap, Loki destroying jotunheim, superhero with powers being held accountable, mind control) and yet we still find ways to judge their morality, because they all mirror real-world events. (The snap= genocide; Loki destroying Jotunheim= bombing other countries; superhero accountability= weapons accountability; mind control= grooming and coercion). And lbr the closest real-world mirror to two versions of the same person (who may or may not share DNA, family, backgrounds, physical and emotion characteristics) being romantically involved with one another is incest. And you can be ok with that if you want- that’s your prerogative- but don’t get pissy just cause a lot of us are squicked out by it.

• The whole mirror metaphor (learning self love via each other) thing just fell completely flat. First of all, having Loki learn to love himself by looking at someone who mirrors him did not, in any way shape or form, require them to be romantically involved. But they were. Of course. Secondly, the creators have contradicted themselves so many times on whether Loki and Sylvie are the same or not, that it doesn’t even really register to the viewer that the mirroring thing was what they were going for. Finally, Loki and Sylvie are shown to have so little in common- and to have only the most bare minimum of similarities personality-wise- that it doesn’t even make sense that Loki would “learn to love himself through loving her”. Like? They’re nothing alike. So how would he make the connection that he himself is actually pretty cool, based on her alone? There’s virtually nothing in her that reflects him.

• I know the objective of the entire show was to convince us of how awesome and unique Sylvie is, but honestly her relationship with Loki just did the opposite. A hallmark of a Mary Sue is having her constantly upstage the male lead, and then having him instantly fall madly in love with her anyway. And that’s.. exactly what happened here. Everything they’re doing to try to force her character to be more stan-able is really just forcing her to look more like their self-insert OC. Which is exactly what she is. It would’ve been so much more satisfying if she didn’t have to try so hard to look cool, if they didn’t have to try so hard to make her backstory tear-inducing, if they didn’t have to turn our protagonist into a snivelling simp just to prove how incredible she supposedly is. Very much #GirlBoss energy and we all know how performative and cheap that is.

• The entire thing was too rushed, there was too little build-up, and it was nowhere near believable. As stated above, it’s ridiculously unlikely that Loki would canonically even be interested in Sylvie, and this show did nothing to explain why he was. He just suddenly was. There was nothing they showed us as viewers that would justify a guy as closed-off and preoccupied as Loki falling head-over-heels for a girl he just met. Their was no explanation, no big revelation, no reasoning, it just… kinda happened. And I’m also severely skeptical of any love story that has the characters go in this deep after only 3 45-minute episodes of exposition.

I’m sure there’s other stuff, so if anyone thinks of anything, let me know and I’ll be more than happy to add it. Tagging @janetsnakehole02 @raifenlf @natures-marvel and @brightredsunset800 for expressing interest. This is all your faults.

[queenxxxsupreme]

What's Lost Cannot Be Found, But Can Be Forged (Netflix!Eskel)

A/N: This is sort of that 2 version of that ask about Eskel seeing reader vulnerable :) and I totally might be making Triss and Yenn and reader way too sistery but I love Yenn and show!Triss way too much and that scene in s2 where the sorceress are bonding by the hot spring thing just after Yenn gets back ugh idc fight me

Warnings: nothing outside of canon, blood, mentions of death, injuries, angsty

Word Count: 4.0k

Summary: The witcher sees a side of you that he's never seen, and he isn't sure how to react.

Note: If you haven't already, I would strongly recommend reading the previous parts to the Witcher and the Witch universe. In order, they are To Any Semblance of Touch | Down A Chilling Hall, A Fire Grows (contains smut) | To Survive is To Suffer | To Follow the Heat of the Flame | Sober Thoughts Spoken by Intoxicated Lips

Triss murmured something under her breath to Yennefer, nodding in the direction of the two doors you had just walked through.

The sorceresses sat in the library with Vesemir, Eskel, and Geralt, assisting the witchers in updating a few books. Well, Triss was helping. Yennefer provided her company. She didn’t like the busy work of going through old texts and correcting what was previously believed to be true.

Yennefer’s eyes flickered up to find you, a grin pulling at her red stained lips.

You were in a black dress with dark green accents that fit your form in the most flattering way. A gray fur cloak rested around your shoulders. Your hair was fixed and done nicely, much nicer in fact than you usually ever did when just lingering around Kaer Morhen.

“Have you got somewhere important to be. Y/N?”

You met her violet gaze, smiling just a little. She knew very well what today was, she was only teasing you.

Geralt and Vesemir only briefly looked at you, both greeting you as they returned to the book they were focused on. Eskel, however, lost his will to help his brother and mentor.

“Well don’t you just look like a treat.” He sat back in his seat, eyeing your entire outfit but your bust in particular captured his attention.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, witcher.” You told him. You looked back to Triss and Yennefer. “I’ll be back before sunset.”

“More like we’ll see you at sunrise.” Triss giggled, looking over to Yennefer.

“Where are you going, Y/N?” Vesemir asked you.

“Um, I am going out for a bit. I’d rather not share my location, no offense to any of you.” You brushed your hands over your skirt absentmindedly.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He raised a brow.

“I’ll be fine.” You nodded your head.

“Who have you given your location to this year?” Triss asked.

“If anything happens to me and I haven’t made contact with that person by the time I’ve told them I would, they know what to do.” You assured her with a little shake of your head.

You trusted your fellow mages, and you trusted the witchers to an extent. But you weren’t willing to openly tell everyone where it was you were traveling to.

Your eyes briefly met Eskel’s before a portal opened behind you.

“Which of you did she tell?” Geralt looked between Triss and Yennefer.

“She didn’t speak a word to me about it.” Triss held her hands up.

Yennefer leaned back in her seat, violet eyes settling on the dark haired witcher that sat at the end of the table.

“Where is she going, Eskel?”

He furrowed his brow.

“Why the hell do you think she told me anything?”

“Because you two share a bond or sorts.”

“A bond.” He repeated, almost scoffing at the word. Eskel didn’t like to be put on the spot in front of everyone. “Sure, Yennefer. If that’s what you’d like to call a good fuck now and again, then we do share a bond.”

“Watch how you speak of her.” Triss cautioned him. Eskel glared at her for a moment.

“You two seem to know more about where she’s going than I do. Giggling like little school girls.”

Yennefer sighed through her nose as she conjured up a glass of juice. She didn’t want to carry on the conversation with Eskel. He was rather insufferable.

Triss shook her head and went back to her book.

After a little while, Vesemir left to refill the jug of ale for the witchers.

“Do you know where she went, Geralt?” Eskel asked his brother.

“Once a year, Y/N meets up with a mage.”

“Geralt!” Triss looked across the table at the White Wolf.

“If she wanted Eskel to know, she would have told him.” Yennefer snapped.

“It does no harm to let him know who she is going to see. It isn’t like I’m revealing the name of the mage. She’s never told me who it was anyways.”

“Because of this exact reason!”

“Yennefer, come on.”

Eskel rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. He chose to ignore the sorceresses and continued asking Geralt questions.

“Do you know anything about the mage?”

“Only that he’s from Rinde.”

“Fuck, Geralt. You’re useless.”

“If you’ve got nothing with Y/N but ‘a good fuck,’ why do you care so much about who she’s seeing?” Yennefer tilted her head to the side a little.

“Because she’s only got the biggest fucking bounty on her head in all the Continent. And she’s untraceable– which I think is complete bullshit. Someone should be able to track her.”

“One could try to, but she has a talisman that causes magic to go haywire if anyone tries to do so.” Triss explained. “So, if I were to try to track her right now, the spell could backfire and leave me with burned eyes or turning myself into some sort of beast. The results could even be lethal.”

“But why would she risk her life to go see someone when she knows it could lead to imprisonment?” Eskel tapped his fingers against the tabletop. “She’s smarter than that.”

“The mage is her former partner.” Triss spoke quietly.

Yennefer sighed heavily, shaking her head.

“He deserves to know, Yenn.”

“She can tell him when she wants to tell him.”

Triss waved off Yennefer’s irritation, though she understood why the sorceress was unhappy with her.

“Partner?” Eskel repeated. “Like…. Like a business associate?”

“No, you idiot.” Yennefer rolled her eyes. “A lover.”

Eskel fell silent. Just like that, the witcher didn’t want to know any more about where you had gone.

He left the library without saying a word to anyone, his heavy footsteps echoing off of the stone walls and high ceilings.

“Perhaps you could try to be a bit more sensitive, Yenn.” Triss stood up.

“Just as he is?”

Triss left the library and hurried to catch up with Eskel.

“Eskel! Wait a moment!”

“What do you want, Marigold?”

“To talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Well, I do.” She glanced over to him out of the corner of her eyes. “Have either of you admitted your feelings for one another? And don’t you try to tell me there are no feelings there because I can feel them when you both are in the same room.”

Eskel hesitated to answer. He didn’t want to admit anything out loud, fearing that whatever relationship had been brewing would crumble.

“Why do they meet once a year?”

“Just to reconnect, to see what the other has been up to since they last saw each other."

“Why aren’t they together anymore?”

“Their duties got between them. Y/N busied herself with the Cravarian court, and Maksim was holding a position in Redania at the time. Now I believe he’s a scholar and teaches at Ban Ard.”

“Did she love him, Triss?"

“She did, yes.” The sorceress smiled, nodding her head.

“And they still didn’t work out?”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough. I think it would be best to talk to her about what troubles you when she returns, Eskel.”

“If she returns.” He muttered, storming away from the mage.

***

Later That Evening

In the Great Hall, Coen, Eskel, and Lambert played a card game while Triss and Vesemir chatted further down the table from them. Sitting at their own table were Geralt and Yennefer.

It had been a long day and everyone was just about ready to turn in when there was a sudden rumble outside that sounded similar to thunder.

Geralt lifted his gaze, turning his head to look towards the doors.

“What the fuck was that?” Lambert asked.

Just as everyone was beginning to stand up, a portal opened, and you stepped through. You didn't even make it two steps before you collapsed to your knees.

“Y/N!” Triss gasped.

Your dress showed signs of having sustained injuries. The material was slashed and torn in multiple places. One of your sleeves was ripped and torn. Your hair was no longer nice and neat, but messy and falling out of the style you’d put it into that morning. A cut above your eyebrow was bleeding enough to leave a blood trail down the side of your face and your nose was bleeding too, though that was from the overuse of your chaos.

Before anyone else could get to you, Eskel was by your side. You had already forced yourself to your feet, brushing your hair back as best as you could.

“What the hell happened to you?” He held your arm and your waist to make sure you were steady on your feet.

Your eyes were red and full of tears as you looked at him. But you didn’t really look at him. It was like you were looking through him. Your eyes were empty, emotionless.

“Her hands.” Triss murmured. "Oh gods."

Yennefer took your hand and flipped it over to examine your palm. Your skin was scorched and blistered.

“Bring her to a seat. Don’t make her stand.” Vesemir told them.

“Come sit, Y/N.” Triss encouraged, placing her hand on the small of your back.

You had been unaware of what was going on for the last few minutes, unable to process things fast enough. That was, until Triss tried to guide you towards one of the tables.

Then everything began to hit you like a stone wall.

“No!” You ripped your arm out of Triss’s grip and pushed yourself away from her and Eskel. You were too crowded in the center of them. You were trapped.

Silence fell around the room. Your eyes flickered from person to person, realizing everyone was watching you carefully.

“Y/N, what happened?” Geralt asked calmly.

You turned your head to him. The lump in your throat made it hard to breathe. You couldn't take a breath. You couldn’t even exhale. The weight on your chest wasn’t helping either. It seemed to grow and grow by the minute.

Yennefer read your thoughts first, a solemn expression crossing her face.

“Go on, boys.” She waved the wolves away. “Go back to playing your games. Leave us to tend to our sister.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Coen muttered, swatting a hand at her. Lambert and Coen returned to their game, but Eskel wasn’t as easy to persuade.

“Let’s take you to your room, Y/N.” Yennefer nodded towards the doors.

You watched her start for the door, thankful that she wasn’t putting her hands on you.

“What’s the matter, Yennefer?” Triss furrowed her brow.

“He’s dead.”

“Oh gods, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” Triss brought her hands up to her heart.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head lightly.

***

Eskel paced the length of the Great Hall, his fists clenched tightly by his sides.

“You’re going to walk a trench into the floor, wolf.” Vesemir told him. “She’ll be fine.”

“Y/N’s strong as piss.” Lambert nodded. “Nothin’s likely to take her out.”

Eskel ignored his brother, letting out an irritated grunt.

The doors at the end of the hall opened and in walked Yennefer.

“How is Y/N?” Geralt crossed his arms.

Eskel stopped pacing, choosing instead to turn and face the mage.

“She’s alright. Triss is with her.”

“Did she say what happened?” Coen asked.

“Just that there were two roach-hounds. She didn’t provide details."

"Was all of that blood on her hers?" Lambert raised his brows.

"No, at least not most of it. Most of it belonged to the mage she went to see. Maksym Zoric.”

“Do you think he was going to give Y/N over to the North?” Eskel leaned against the table with his hands.

“I highly doubt it. Maksym is a– was a noble man. Very honest. The hounds were more than likely sent to find him. All you would have to do to know about his affiliation with Y/N is ask the right people or know either of them." Yennefer clasped her hands together and looked around the room for a moment, then her eyes landed on Geralt. “I am going to Beauclair. That’s where she met with Zoric.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t care if it’s a good idea or not. Y/N was adamant on retrieving his body to bury him and she's in no position to do it herself."

“Well aren’t you just a lovely friend.” Lambert grunted.

With a wave of her hand, Yennefer made the tankard in front of him spill, causing the contents to soak his shirt and trousers.

“I’ll go with you.” Geralt offered, rising to his feet.

***

Eskel was just about to knock on the door to your room when it opened, and Triss appeared.

“Eskel.” She gave him a little smile.

“Marigold.” He looked over her head in an attempt to look into your room. “How is she?”

“She’s…. alright. I don’t know that she’s wanting company right now.”

“I just wanted to make sure….” He trailed off. “Is there anything she needs?”

“Um, I was just about to run to the kitchen and–,”

Triss stopped upon hearing you move around behind her.

“You can open the door, Triss.”

She opened the door, allowing Eskel to have a look at you.

You were dressed in a loose-fitting light gray nightgown. Your hair had been braided back– something Triss had done for you no doubt. The sleeves of the gown fell off of your shoulders, but you didn’t seem to care enough to fix it.

“I can go fetch your tea.” Triss offered, taking a few steps out of the door.

Eskel watched her disappear down the hall before his eyes found you.

You weren’t looking at him anymore. Your eyes focused on the floor in front of him. Your arms were tucked in close to your body, but your hands were kept from touching anything. Your palms were bandaged, leading Eskel to believe that the burns had not been able to be healed by either of the sorceresses.

It almost scared him how quick you were to zone out, how easy it was for you to just slip away from him.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and you sniffled.

“Y/N.” He spoke softly.

You blinked as you looked up, causing the tears to leave your eyes and create warm trails down your cheeks.

“What happened to your hands?” He moved towards you, taking slow and cautious steps. He wasn’t sure how you would react to his closeness. He had never seen you this way before and he wasn’t sure how you’d react if he got any closer.

You watched as the witcher reached out for you, his fingertips gently trailing over the back of your trembling hands as he cupped each of them.

“I-I couldn’t stop them without– without fire.” Your voice was raspy.

“The roach-hounds?”

You nodded your head, your brow furrowing and your face contorting as you began to cry.

“Did they hurt you?”

They had hurt you, and they had done so in the worst way possible. They had taken the first man you loved, the only man you had ever truly loved.

You shook your head softly as an answer. He meant physically, and you knew that. They had managed to cut you in a few different places, but those places were healed by Triss, so it wasn’t worth mentioning.

“I’m sorry…. I’m sorry that you lost him.” Eskel murmured.

You held your breath for a few moments, closing your eyes.

“I can hear it still.” Your hands trembled in his hold. “The– The sound of him choking on his own blood. I-I should’ve been able to save him. But my magic– I had used nearly all of it to stop those beasts. I couldn’t stop the bleeding–,”

“That’s enough.” He stopped you, his voice soft but firm. “Your heart is about to burst out of your chest. You’ve got so much adrenaline in you right now that I’m sure everyone in the hall can smell it. You need to rest.”

You shook your head, opening your eyes and turning your head to look at something other than him. You couldn’t look at him.

“I-I can’t– I can’t close my eyes. Not right now.”

“You have to try, doll.” Eskel took one hand and brushed his fingers over your hair. “Just lay down for a little bit. You need to rest.”

He began to coax you towards the bed, moving his hand down to the small of your back.

Much to his surprise, you didn’t put up a fight. You didn’t feel like you could. You were exhausted. Your entire body hurt in a way that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The pain was bone-deep and nauseating. You wondered if it was from using fire magic, if it had been almost enough to kill you. Or if perhaps this was the feeling of grief settling into your bones.

You sat down on the edge of your bed, almost sighing out in the relief your legs felt.

Eskel turned to get the chair that sat at your vanity, but you thought he was leaving. You grabbed his arm, fingers clasping the sleeve of his shirt rather desperately.

He furrowed his brow, blue eyes finding yours.

“Stay, please.”

“I was just going to get the chair.”

“Lay with me…. Would you lay with me?”

“Of course. You get comfortable first.” He began to kick off his boots as he waited for you to get into bed.

You laid down on the single bed, trying to give him as much room as you possibly could. You would have conjured up a bigger bed any other day, but the very thought of using your magic was enough to make you sick.

Eskel pulled the covers over you to ensure that you stayed as warm as possible, and then he climbed on top of the covers himself. He would more than likely get too hot underneath them himself, so he wanted to make sure you would be comfortable should you fall asleep.

After a bit of moving around and adjusting, the witcher settled on his back and you made yourself as comfortable as possible tucked into his side. He held you close with one arm, allowing you to place your head on his chest.

“Did someone tell you who he was?” Your eyes focused on the wolf medallion.

“Just that he was a mage…. That you were with him.”

“I haven’t been with him for years. We were…. It was complicated. I-I can’t tell you now about it but maybe with time.” You wiped your cheek with one shaky hand.

“It’s in the past, witch.” Eskel spoke softly, focusing his eyes on the ceiling. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wish to.”

You were thankful that he understood.

***

Within a few hours, you had drifted off to sleep.

Eskel remained awake, brushing his fingers along your arm. You had placed that arm across his chest, your hand turned up as to not let your palm accidentally rub anything.

The witcher listened to your heart beating, counting the second between every breath you took.

Your heart started to beat a little faster and you shifted just a bit. Your eyebrows furrowed together, and your lips parted.

“Y/N.” Eskel murmured your name.

Your hand turned over and your fingers clasped a fistful of his shirt with no regard for your injured palm. You cried out softly as if the action hurt, but that didn’t stop you from still holding his shirt.

“Run.” You uttered out through parted lips. Moments later, you sucked in a shaky breath.

Eskel realized then that you were sleeping.

“Doll, wake up.” His hand trailed down to your back where he could then shake you gently.

Tears began to trail down your cheeks.

“Y/N.” He said your name firmly this time, hoping to rouse you from whatever nightmare plagued your sleep.

You jolted, eyes opening suddenly. You released Eskel’s shirt, wincing and hissing at the stinging pain in your palm.

“Fuck.”

“Easy, doll.” Eskel reached out for your hand, wanting to make sure you were alright, but you jerked your hand away.

You wiped your cheeks, confused by the tears that dampened your hand. As you sat up, so did he.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Fuck off, witcher.” You bit, irritated, upset, and frankly overwhelmed with everything. Having just been woken up by Eskel with a terrible pain in your palm, wet cheeks, and a heavy weight on your chest, you didn’t know what to do. You weren’t sure what to make of the situation.

Eskel pressed his lips together in a firm line, watching you as you moved your fingers just a little.

It was painful to move your fingers, to cause any sort of disruption to your burnt palm.

You wiped your cheeks again and let out a small breath.

“I…. I’m sorry.” You apologized.

Eskel said nothing.

You looked over to him, finding his blue eyes.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. I woke you up because I was afraid you were hurting yourself. Your hands aren’t very…. They aren’t good right now.”

“They’re fucking useless.” You muttered, shaking your head.

“With time, they’ll get better.” Eskel said.

You looked around the room for a moment before your eyes settled on the fire. Just looking at the flames made your palms burn.

Quickly, you looked away, bringing your hands closer to your body.

“The roach-hounds killed so many people in Beauclair.” Your voice was quiet. “Innocent people. They-They were trying to get to me, and those people were just in their way…. I tried to reason with it earlier, that their deaths were for something, but in the end Maksym died. Those people died for nothing.”

“Not for nothing. You’re still here.”

You closed your eyes momentarily, shaking your head.

“That means nothing.”

“It means something to some of us here.” Eskel wanted to tell you the truth, that it meant more to him to have you here and alive with him than anything in the world. He’d watch a hundred people die if it meant that you’d live.

You looked down at your hands. The bandages were a nuisance, and you were annoyed with them already.

“I’m tired of the death around me, Eskel. Ever since Branimor…. It seems like death is all I am capable of.”

“Everything that happens is not without cause.” Eskel shifted around on the bed so he could lay back on the pillows. “Destiny is a very real thing, and she can be a cruel beast.”

You looked at him for a few moments, smiling softly.

“I never would’ve thought you’d be the kind to believe in destiny.”

“Destiny gave me this beauty.” He gestured to the scarred right side of his face, a grin pulling at that same gnarled side of his lips. “Do you believe in destiny, witch?”

You were quiet for a few moments.

“I’m not sure, witcher.” You murmured. “With all that she’s put me through, I don’t think I want to believe anymore. I don’t know what she has in store for me.”

“Perhaps your future is brighter than your past.” Eskel raised his brows.

“You’re quite the optimist.”

Now it was his turn to look at you silently. The smile slowly fell from his lips. His tongue came out to wet his bottom lip as his mouth suddenly became dry.

It was a good time for him to tell you just how glad he was that you had returned alive, that you were safe and sound in Kaer Morhen once more. It was perhaps the best time to tell you that nothing made him more optimistic than the idea of getting at least the rest of the winter with you– as long as you didn’t leave the keep again and no one else was lucky in their search for you.

“You should try to rest again. A pretty witch like you still needs her beauty sleep.”

You settled down next to him, opting to let him hold you this time. You knew you wouldn’t be sleeping, but this was the most comfortable position, nonetheless.

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