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#the most I’ve been doing is writing but the writing is about ME not about any creative works
luna-azzurra · 22 hours
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do you have any advice for writing a love confession without making it grossly cheesy or awkward?
im writing one between long time childhood best friends that are EXTREMELY close and im so stuck
Since these two characters have been best friends for a long time, the confession should feel like it’s built off their history together. Maybe start with a memory that’s meaningful to both of them. It doesn’t have to be a huge, dramatic moment, something small but personal, like a time they supported each other or a running joke they’ve had forever.
For example, one of them could say something like
“Remember that time we got caught in the rain walking home from school, and you made up that ridiculous song to keep me from freaking out? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately… and I realized that’s when I first started seeing you differently.”
When people confess their feelings, especially in a real and vulnerable way, it’s usually not in flowery language. If you try to make it too poetic or dramatic, it might feel forced. Instead, keep it honest and straightforward. They don’t need to say “I’ve loved you all along” in some grand, movie-like way. Let the confession come out more naturally, almost like they’ve been fighting it for a while and finally just have to get it off their chest.
You could have them say
“I don’t really know how to say this, and it might sound weird… but somewhere along the way, I started seeing you as more than just my best friend.”
There’s no way for this kind of confession to be totally smooth, and honestly, that’s what makes it feel more authentic. They’ve been best friends forever, so there’s going to be nerves, maybe some hesitation or stumbling over words. Lean into that awkwardness, it actually makes the moment more relatable and shows how important it is to them.
Maybe one of them starts talking, realizes they’re rambling, and tries to correct themselves. Like
“Okay, wait, that sounded dumb, let me start over. What I’m trying to say is… you mean a lot to me, more than I’ve probably ever said out loud, and it’s kind of terrifying because I don’t want to mess things up between us. But I’ve gotta be honest, this is how I feel.” The vulnerability in admitting they’re scared to ruin the friendship makes it more heartfelt and real.
This is probably the most important part! These two aren’t just falling for each other out of nowhere, they’ve built this strong, deep friendship over the years. So the confession should acknowledge how much that means to them. Make it clear that the romantic feelings don’t take away from their friendship but add to it.
You could have one of them say something like
“You’ve always been the person I turn to for everything, and that’s not gonna change, no matter what. But lately, I’ve been feeling something more, and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I just hope it doesn’t mess things up between us.” This way, they’re emphasizing that the friendship is still the foundation of everything, but they can’t ignore the fact that it’s evolving into something deeper.
Overall, just make sure it feels true to the characters and their relationship. Don’t feel like you have to tie it up neatly with a perfect line or a romantic kiss right away. The beauty of this kind of love confession is that it’s messy and emotional, and it should reflect the complexity of their relationship. They don’t need to have all the answers right away. Let the moment be about the honesty and the fact that they’re finally admitting something that’s been building for a while.
Maybe end with something like
“I don’t know where this goes from here, but I had to tell you. You’re too important to me to keep pretending like I don’t feel this way.” This leaves room for both characters to process what’s happening without forcing a big romantic resolution right away. It’s more about them taking that first step into new territory, which feels more genuine and in line with the close friendship they’ve had for so long.
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fairene · 2 hours
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passenger princess / ln4
established relationship lando norris x fem!reader
no use of y/n, as always.
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in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.
prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡
a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.
warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.
wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)
things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him. 
but he knew. he knew exactly when.
you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.
that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend. 
you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time. 
“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms. 
she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs. 
p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.
“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”
a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous. 
“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”
the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted. 
what you wanted,
your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.
as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask. 
you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.
“mate?”
lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy. 
lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p. 
your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable. 
you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure. 
he found himself smiling bright. 
do you want kids? 
he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?
“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.
when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?” 
lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out. 
the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to. 
“when?”
lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.” 
max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket. 
“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.” 
max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?” 
lando felt giddy.
you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you. 
p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working. 
but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in. 
“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker. 
you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?” 
the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.” 
you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”
“because he hasn’t asked me.”
“why don’t you ask him?” 
“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”
p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.
she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”
now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”
she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled. 
you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you. 
with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p. 
“are you going to have babies?”
“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.” 
she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”
“of course i do, p.”
she gasped.
“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough. 
you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.” 
she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest. 
“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand. 
“nothing.” 
but it wasn’t nothing.
lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p. 
“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?” 
she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”
and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly. 
too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.
the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be. 
in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.
you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress. 
relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs. 
your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other. 
“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on. 
“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling. 
and a good one at that. 
qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.
flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.
lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car. 
“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter. 
you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit. 
“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief. 
he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized. 
‘daddy’
you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p? 
lando let out a short laugh. “like it?” 
you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger. 
“wore it for you.” 
the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded. 
and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.” 
you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door. 
the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.
as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks. 
when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves. 
“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.” 
you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard. 
lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge. 
you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling. 
“you’ll win this for me?”
he scoffed, “always.” 
you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth. 
you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.” 
“don’t care.” 
you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.” 
he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away. 
“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature. 
“what?”
“nothing…” she looked away.
“lily.” 
“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily. 
“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’” 
the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.
your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner. 
god…
was there anything more prideful than that?
surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that. 
the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag. 
there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory. 
a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier. 
the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room. 
“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future. 
you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side. 
he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando. 
after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando. 
you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day. 
“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in. 
“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle. 
“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water. 
“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.” 
you gave her a heart-warming smile. 
“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.
“are you sure…?” 
marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick. 
“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?” 
is everyone asking that today?
you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.” 
“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.
“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.
“someone has baby fever.” marta commented. 
“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.” 
“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble. 
“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.” 
you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife. 
it did. 
he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard. 
your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested? 
fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking. 
you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.
he overheard the conversation, too. 
“do you plan on having children? with lando?” 
for sure. there’s no one else i’d want. 
fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.
yeah, he’s fucked. 
after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat. 
you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him. 
his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.
“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold. 
“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.” 
you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.
lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.” 
he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.” 
you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.
“well, go on, then.” 
“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.” 
you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.” 
“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.” 
“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled. 
“what was that, baby?” 
“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent. 
“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.” 
you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above. 
 “you heard…all of it?” 
“the gist.” 
you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now. 
“fuck. i didn’t mean to—” 
“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down. 
when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off. 
“i want kids, too, you know. with you.” 
“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?” 
he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”
you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”
“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him. 
though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.
you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again. 
“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.
“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead. 
the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls. 
“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?” 
you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.
“driving me fucking nuts, darling.” 
you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.
it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.
“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.
 with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder. 
down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child. 
“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!” 
“thank you,” the woman said.
“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles. 
the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?” 
jackpot..!!
you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…” 
the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,” 
“you think so?” 
she nodded her affirmation. 
“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening. 
“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door. 
“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”
she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.” 
you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”
“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.
you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’. 
he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?” 
he didn’t answer you. 
you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going. 
it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park. 
“what are we—”
you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air. 
“husband?” 
oh
oh…!
well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms. 
he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans. 
“don’t know what you’re—”
he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”
your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit. 
you mewled. 
“what was that?”
your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words. 
“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him. 
“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied. 
he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.
“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.
“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal. 
“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.” 
his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision. 
he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing. 
his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.
the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—
but it did. 
he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy. 
you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now. 
with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes. 
but this…this is not what you expected. 
he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger. 
it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off. 
“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.” 
you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger. 
“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”
the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.” 
“good, baby, you learn fast.” 
you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it. 
“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne. 
his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level. 
“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…” 
you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time. 
“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling. 
“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.” 
you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go. 
“daddy.” 
if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames. 
you were his undoer,
the key to his shackled restraint,
the sun to his universe.
it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear. 
lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you. 
but seeking the future together?
heaven incarnate.
despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis. 
“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace. 
he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was. 
lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person. 
because he was yours. 
then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat. 
“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone. 
“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another. 
with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot. 
you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you. 
echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more. 
“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin. 
“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out. 
his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy. 
he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child. 
“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?” 
your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words. 
“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else. 
“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut. 
“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?” 
your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth. 
“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen. 
“lando…”
his head shot up from his daze. 
“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate. 
“what, pretty girl?”
your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair. 
he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”
“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.” 
it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.” 
“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him. 
“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light. 
with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat. 
out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you. 
you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh. 
“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls. 
“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.” 
he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”
you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.” 
he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.” 
you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.” 
his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”
you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.” 
it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty. 
when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god. 
you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear. 
“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.
“they should auction it.” 
you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.” 
“need all that room for you.” 
“cheesy.” 
lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently. 
he pulled out a bracelet.
a friendship bracelet. 
“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:
“MOMMY”
“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed. 
he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.” 
you gasped. “lando!” 
“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger. 
“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?” 
lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”
“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.” 
“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room. 
after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?” 
he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile. 
“what, lando?” 
he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”
“what?” 
“you’re dripping.”
you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t. 
you really hoped it wasn’t. 
tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch
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ponderingmoonlight · 17 hours
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Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗
Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all
Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore
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Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol
Word Count: 3k
Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?
Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff
Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol
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You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.
Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.
Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.
But now it’s starting to get tricky.
It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.
“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.
“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”
Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.
“I’m fine.”
That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.
Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.
“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”
Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.
“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”
Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.
“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”
“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.
“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?” Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.
For now.
“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.
“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.
You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-
Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-
“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Oh, I get it now.”
Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.
“No, you don’t.”
But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.
“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.
“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”
Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”
“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.
You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.
You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.
“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.
“Who is it? Do we know them?”
Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.
But you know it’s only a matter of time.
“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”
It’s almost convincing. Almost.
Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”
“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.
“True,” Nobara agrees,
“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”
Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.
“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.
“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.
“You guys are gross.”
Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.
“What? No! It’s not that one!”
“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”
“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.
“I’m going for a walk.”
Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.
Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.
“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”
Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.
“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”
“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.
Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.
“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.
You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.
“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”
You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.
“And last weekend, too?”
Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.
“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.
Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.
“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”
“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.
Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.
“Yeah, maybe.”
But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.
“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”
“Nobara,” you interrupt,
“you’re overthinking it.”
For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.
But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.
“Well, well, what do we have here?”
Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.
“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.
“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”
Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.
“We think he’s got a crush.”
Gojo pauses, grin widening.
 “Oh, is that so?”
You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?
His smirk deepens.
“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.
“I wonder who it could be.”
You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.
But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.
“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.
“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.
Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.
“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.
“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”
“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.
Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.
“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”
He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.
Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.
“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”
Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”
“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.
Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.
You know who it is. He knows you know.
You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.
But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.
“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.
“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.
“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”
You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.
As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.
“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”
Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.
“Definitely.”
You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.
Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?
This is going to get much harder to hide.
Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.
“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.
You smile softly, leaning into his side.
“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”
Megumi groans.
“I know.”
There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.
Still, you can’t help but tease him.
“You’re really bad at lying.”
Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.
“Shut up.”
You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.
“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.
Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.
“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.
“But not yet.”
You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.
And for now, that’s enough.
Bonus:
The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.
It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.
You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?
By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.
You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.
“Okay, I’m done!”
Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.
“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”
Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.
“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”
Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.
You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.
“Your call.”
With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.
“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.
“I’ll tell you.”
Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.
“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.
“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.
Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.
Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.
At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.
Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.
Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.
“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.
“YOU—YOU AND—”
Megumi sighs.
“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”
That’s when all hell breaks loose.
“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.
“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”
Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.
“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.
“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”
You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.
Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.
“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.
“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”
“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.
“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”
You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.
“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”
“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.
“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”
Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.
“You guys are overreacting.”
“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.
Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.
“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”
Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.
“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”
You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.
“What?” Nobara screeches again.
“YOU KNEW?!”
Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”
Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.
“You didn’t tell us?”
Gojo tilts his head, grinning.
“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”
Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.
“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”
Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.
“You’re welcome.”
Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.
“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”
Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.
“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”
“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.
Nobara glares at him.
“It was not an accident.”
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diminuel · 1 day
Text
I said I'd try to write a little companion piece/ continuation to my Luffy time traveling into the past to meet a young Crocodile comic!
As a warning: I know nothing about ships and since this is just a little no pressure project to try to get out of writer's block I didn’t do a lot of research. There is also a plot discrepancy because Luffy mentions Bonney and her abilities which he shouldn’t know based on the frame story I’ve given this fic *lol* Also: I don't know how to write these characters yet.
No beta, sorry for mistakes.
This is a Crocodad AU fic of course! ♥
--
Maybe This Time Part 1 (3.5k)
“Better get down from there, Luffy!” Nami called from the upper deck. “I don’t quite trust these clouds.” Luffy turned to look over his shoulder, feet dangling over the railing. Nami stood with a hand over her brow, looking up at the sky. Luffy turned back to look out at the sea and tilted his head up. The sky had a pretty green hue, nearly blending seamlessly into a dark mist rising above them. A huge dark cloud had formed ahead, casting a shadow over the sea in the distance.
“Just-“
He titled forward, lost his grip on the railing. A swooping feeling of falling tickled his stomach but before he could make a surprised sound he hit the surface of the water. It felt like he was crashing through glass.
And then it was dark.
This wasn’t the first time Luffy woke up after having been tossed into the water, but for some reason he was bone dry. And oddly thirsty.
“Thirsty,” he wheezed, sticking out his tongue to escape the uncomfortable dryness of his mouth.
A small barrel with a straw was held out to him with a curt “here.” Luffy’s attention zeroed in on the offering and he grabbed it without second-thought. A couple of deep gulps of the water later he felt a lot better already. He heaved a sigh in relief. He took the straw into his mouth again, starting a thank you as he turned towards his savior.
Startled, he sucked in water and spit it out again before he could choke on it, right into the face of someone who looked shockingly familiar.
“BABA?!” Luffy yelled. The person in front of stared at him blanky, the water dripping off his face.
Luffy stared right back. Could it be? This wasn’t Baba as he knew him, but much younger. Sure, they hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months, but he couldn’t change that much, right? But who else could it be? The same hair, the same eyes, the same scar, the same unimpressed expression.
A thousand questions rampaged through Luffy’s minds. How was Baba here? Last they had talked he had been still on Buggy’s homebase. Had he saved him? Where was his crew? What kind of island was this? But one question seemed most important.
“Why are you so young?!” Luffy asked, staring at Baba who couldn’t be much older than Luffy was now.
“Huh?”
“Was it Bonney?” The confusion on Baba’s face only grew.
“Who?” he asked. Luffy stared back at him taking in the complete lack of recognition on Baba’s face.
What?
“Don’t you recognize me, Baba?!” Luffy shouted in horror. The corners of Baba’s mouth twitched and his brows drew down. At least that was a marginally more familiar expression on his face.
“My name isn’t Baba,” he insisted. “And no. Should I?” That hit Luffy like Grandpa’s fist of love.
“Yes!!” Luffy argued, feeling overwhelmed and his crew wasn’t even here to help figure this out. Robin or Jinbei would know what to do! Luffy looked at the sea. It was overcast, the sun faint, the air cool. It was most likely early morning. There wasn’t a single ship visible in the bay or beyond. No other people on this beach. He could feel tears form in his eyes.
“What is going on?” he yelled.
--
There were rules for unexpected situations that had been drilled into his head at an early age. Get yourself out of any immediate danger. Figure out where your people are and regroup. Figure out where you are. Eat. Everything else can wait until after you’ve eaten.
Maybe the importance placed on food was just the Monkey family’s way of dealing with problems, but Luffy wasn’t about to complain. The perfectly grilled meat and the little stick that was loaded with huge mushrooms helped to dampen the anxious pit in his stomach. But the moment he looked up and caught a glimpse of the person sitting across from him, tearing the meat straight off the bone in an unsettling lack of finesse, he felt like he was being dunked into sea water again.
Just what was going on here? Luffy had been travelling with his crew, enjoying that exhilarating part of adventuring where you were simply sailing, facing the challenges the sea of the New World threw at you, not yet knowing where the path would take you. And then the next thing he knew he was plunged into water, sank, blacked out.
Nothing after made any sense. Because the person that had saved him…
“You’re staring.” Luffy startled at the unsettlingly unfamiliar voice. He watched the person opposite him pick his teeth. “Do I really look like that Baba person?” Maybe a smart man would keep his mouth shut and Luffy had been raised to have at least a pinch of common sense between his ears but…
Just what was he supposed to do when a young version of his father was sitting opposite him?!
“You do,” he settled on saying, wary. Baba didn’t look particularly upset by his lack of an explanation, not even a hint of annoyance pinching his brow. And that was unusual too.
What was this? A hallucination? Someone’s devil fruit power? Actual time travel?
(And why not into the future so Luffy could at least see cool robots shooting lasers?)
“What did you say your name was?” Baba asked, genuinely curious, then he pointed at the food in Luffy’s hands. “More where that came from,” he promised. “Eat.” And wasn’t that just another strange thing? Why was he so nice to him if he didn’t even know who Luffy was? Luffy stuffed the food in his mouth, chewing morosely.
“Monkey D. Luffy. I’m going to be the pirate king,” he announced, though far more subdued than he usually was when introducing himself. Baba’s eyebrow lifted.
“There’s no such thing as a king of pirates,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Isn’t that the whole point? The freedom?” Luffy swallowed his food, tilting his head in confusion. Baba put his elbow on his knee, and propped his chin in his palm. He grinned at Luffy, the expression open and joyful, almost mischievous. “That’s why I set sail. I want to do things for myself, see what I can achieve on the Grandline!” His grin softened to an expression a lot more familiar to Luffy though he couldn’t exactly place it. “A big adventure before…,” he trailed off and sat up straight, still grinning but not sharing his thoughts.
It was strange to hear Baba talk of freedom and piracy like that. While Baba had given Ace, Sabo and him a lot of practical information on what to expect out of piracy, he almost never talked about how it used to be for him when he just starting out. Luffy didn’t know when he became a pirate, what motivated him or why he gave up that freedom for a warlord position.
He just knew that nowadays everything, even freedom, was shackled by conditions upon conditions. A thousand locks for Baba and Dad to pick before it could be achieved. Luffy had never quite understood it. Freedom was so easy to achieve if you just pushed your boat off the shore.
Maybe this Baba still trusted that freedom was always within reach.
“How old are you?” Luffy blurted out, putting aside the unease about the situation to admit a little bit of curiosity. Even if it was a hallucination or the work of a very capable impostor, he wanted to know more about him. He wanted to know everything about him.
“19,” Baba answered. “And you?”
“Uh, me too,” Luffy said, then lifted his fingers. “46 minus 19.”
“27,” Baba answered right away, chewing on a mushroom. It seems Baba hadn’t yet discovered the “don’t talk with your mouth full” rule.
“27 years?” Luffy repeated in dawning horror, touching his palms to his cheeks. “I’m 27 years in the past?!” He whined and let himself drop onto his back. He stared up at the overcast sky, partially visible through the sparse trees here so close to the shore. How was that possible?! Did they sail into some sort of mystical area of the Grandline and were now all scattered across time? Was that even possible?
Baba’s face appeared in his field of vision, blocking out the sky.
“What are you talking about?” he wanted to know, his hands in his hips as he bent down to study Luffy. “You can’t seriously believe that you’re from the future.”
“But I am!” Luffy insisted and jumped to his feet. Luckily Baba straightened quickly enough to not be hit by Luffy’s head. He grimaced, momentarily distracted by the fact that even now his father was nearly a head taller than him. He shrugged it off. “I know that there is no known devil fruit that will grant the user the ability to go back in time. But there has got to be an explanation for this!”
“Other than you being insane?” Baba offered but judged by his tone and the grin stretching his lips he was teasing, not mocking. Luffy groaned, then crossed his arms over his chest. “You do realize that what you’re saying is improbable.”
“But it’s still true!” Baba didn’t react to his outburst. “I’ve seen a lot of so-called improbable things before! Islands with dinosaurs! Islands that fly in the sky! Islands where people turned into living toys!” Baba lifted his eyebrows at that. Luffy waved him off. “It was just Mingo, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not worrying about it,” Baba answered, amusement evident. “But it seems like you’ve already travelled a bit. I thought you were new to the Grandline. You look like a rookie.”
“I’m not!” Luffy protested then pointed his thumb at his chest. “I’ve been on the Grandline for 2 years! I’ve got an amazing ship and the best crew in the world!” At the mention of his crew his spirits sunk like an anchor. He hoped they were okay…!
“Where were you when you got separated from your crew? You can’t have been washed ashore from that far away,” Baba asked. Luffy hummed, trying to remember. He scratched his head.
“We’d been on sea for about three weeks after Wano,” he said. “But we hadn’t come into stable climate yet, so I don’t think we were close to an island.”
“Wano,” Baba repeated. “You were in the New World?” He seemed surprised now. Was he doubting him again?
“You’re in the New World too,” Luffy shot back.
“No! We’re on Agaricus,” Baba insisted. Luffy squinted at him. Where had he heard that name before? He was sure he had heard Baba mention it. “The next big island you might have heard of is Alabasta.” Luffy hit his balled fist into his palm in recognition.
“The autumn island where you like to go mushroom hunting!” he said then the words registered. “What?! We’re in the first half of the Grandline?!” Baba looked about as shocked as Luffy felt.
“How do you know that?” he asked and it took a moment for Luffy to realize that he looked wary all of a sudden, his stance a lot less relaxed. Luffy knew that he should be able to defend himself against a 19-year-old version of his father, but he still didn’t want to test that hypothesis if Baba actually started to believe that Luffy was a threat.
“I told you! I’m from the future! I know you!” Luffy defended himself. Baba frowned at him, but his stance shifted just a bit. A soft sound at Luffy’s feet made him look down just to see tendrils of sand slip back down on the floor. He hadn’t even realized that Baba must have manipulated the sand to grab him if needed. When Luffy looked up Baba’s expression was serious, a crease between his eyebrows.
“27 years into the future,” Baba affirmed. “When you and your crew sailed the New World. As apparently I do too.” He rubbed his arms, his face uncertain for the first time. “I’m still alive in 27 years?”
“Obviously!” Luffy insisted, angry at the suggestion that Baba would not make it on the Grandline. “You’re strong!” A small grin appeared on Baba’s face.
“Yeah? So how do we know each other? Am I your captain or something?” Luffy wrinkled his nose but at the same time Baba did too. “Do I insist on everybody calling me Baba like fucking Whitebeard wants everyone to call him Pops?” Baba made a disgusted expression at that. Luffy of course knew that Baba and Whitebeard had history, but as most things of his father’s past, this was something he kept close to his chest. Sometimes his secrecy was quite annoying and it was hard to pretend not to care about what had happened, especially since the old man had meant so much to Ace.
“How can you already have a grudge against Whitebeard at 19?”
“Oh, so you don’t know everything, Monkey D. Luffy,” Baba said, his grim look dropping quickly at the supposed upper hand he fancied himself to have. Luffy wasn’t used to these quick mood changes. Still, instead of answering he grimaced. “What?”
“I don’t like when you call me by my full name. You only do that when you’re scolding me. Call me Luffy or Strawhat.”
“Strawhat?” Baba asked, laughing. Luffy pulled his hat from his back and put it onto his head demonstratively. “And you let me scold you? What am I? Your mom?” Luffy pressed his lips together, the question feeling like someone had upended a bucket of cold water onto his head. But Baba laughed in amusement as if the thought was absurd. “Am I your captain?”
For the first time a different kind of worry made a home in Luffy’s mind. He had arguably no experience in time traveling but he wondered if it was a good idea to let his father know too much. Could Luffy change the past just by being here? Could he change his own present if he messed up here?
Luffy knew that he was a “happy accident.” What if he told Baba who he was and Baba decided to be a bit more careful so that no happy accidents happened accidentally? That’d be horrible! Would Luffy just disappear?! Maybe this was the true danger of this situation!
“You’re not my captain! I’m the captain of my ship!” Luffy insisted, pride in his position winning out over the moment of panic.
“Then what’s our connection?” Crocodile asked and took a step closer to Luffy, a glint in his eyes that Luffy didn’t quite like. He didn’t have a sharp hook to hold under his nose but he had a sharp and menacing grin. “Spit it out, Strawhat.”
“I… I don’t know anything!” Luffy said through pursed lips, looking away. But other than grab him and shake him or worse (as Luffy had seen Baba do to people who annoyed him or lied to him) Baba just blinked at him. Then he threw his head back and laughed.
“I know someone who’s just as horrible as you are at lying!” he said. Luffy wrinkled his nose. Not everyone could lie professionally. “But why don’t you want to tell me?”
“Because I am from the future!” Luffy insisted. “What if I say something that changes something big?! I don’t want that! I like my life! Maybe if someone sent me into this past, this is their objective?! What if they’re trying to kill me by letting me make a mistake here in the past that leads to me not being born?!”
“That seems far too much effort,” Baba said, looking Luffy up and down. “You don’t look particularly strong, Strawhat,” he said his tone annoyingly patronizing. “A stray bullet could kill you.”
“What?! I am strong! And my bounty is higher than yours!” he protested. Luffy would never have said that to his Baba’s face but this young version of him was different. “And I’m not going to tell you what it is!” Baba rolled his eyes.
“At least tell me I didn’t choose something as stupid as Baba as my name,” he said, then he moved his hand and a wave of sand spread over the fire they had roasted their food on, dousing it at once.
“I’ve always done my best to fly under the marine’s radar and it’s hard to break the habit. I haven’t really gotten my name out there yet,” Baba continued. He pointed at Luffy. “But I will! The world will soon hear of the exploits of Crocodile!” Luffy stared at him, taking in his wide, confident grin.
Baba looked impossibly young.
“Yes,” Luffy agreed, not sure why there was a lump in his throat. Baba smiled at him, then he reached out to pat Luffy’s shoulder. “Let’s go.” Baba turned around and started packing up the rest of the cooked meat and mushrooms. He tossed Luffy a bag, then shouldered his own. When he walked away from the camp, Luffy trailed after him.
“Where are we going?” he asked. They stepped out of the outskirts of the forest and back onto the beach. There was a small ship docking on a pier that Luffy hadn’t noticed back when he had first woken up. It wasn’t much bigger than the one Luffy had initially set out on. Far too small for a crew of more than two. Not a vessel that looked suited for the Grandline.
“You’re looking for your crew, right? And a way to get back home, wherever and whenever that might be,” Baba said and then thrust his thumb behind him, towards the ship. “So what do you say, Strawhat Luffy? Want to join me?” Luffy looked at him in surprise. Baba wasn’t exactly the kind of person to make such generous offers to strangers, at least he wasn’t today.
“Fine. But I’m captain!” Luffy said and extended his arm to grab onto the ship’s mast. He pulled himself onto the ship, Baba staring after him. Luffy sat himself down at the helm of the ship. Baba cursed to himself, then undid the rope and gave his ship a powerful shove with his foot. He turned into sand and landed on the ship next to Luffy.
“No way! This is my ship!” Luffy looked up the mast, noticing the lack of a pirate flag.
“Baba-“
“Don’t call me that.”
“Crocodile, you don’t even have a pirate flag!” he said disapprovingly and for the first time Baba actually seemed embarrassed. “Does your ship have name at least?”
“Yeah, it’s the Mind Your Own Business Strawhat!” Crocodile went down into the cabin and then came back with an eternal pose. Luffy couldn’t read the name written on it. Crocodile walked to the steering wheel and then looked up at the sail. Luffy watched as sand spread from Crocodile’s body until the sails were lifted and caught the wind.
“Where are we going?” Luffy asked, inspecting the stemhead but it didn’t seem particularly comfortable to sit on. Crocodile’s ship didn’t even have a figurehead! Maybe he had a banana in his galley so Luffy could put it on the stemhead. The "Mind your Own Business Strawhat" needed least some decoration. Momentarily caught up in his musings, it took him a moment to turn back around to look up at Crocodile behind the wheel. It was strange seeing him there. He had only sailed with Crocodile on the same ship once, leaving Impel Down. He didn’t know why it seemed so strange to see him man a ship himself. He knew that his father was a pirate and yet it seemed odd to realize what that actually meant. That he hadn’t always been a warlord who tended to stay in one place or travel on marine vessels, that he hadn’t always had 2000 people under his command, that he hadn’t always been an emperor’s commander. But he looked comfortable behind the wheel, like he had never done anything else.
“Do you want to go all the way to Wano?” Luffy eventually asked and jumped up to where Crocodile was. “What about your own adventure? Don’t you want to follow the log poses and do your route around the Grandline?”
“I don’t mind making a detour,” he easily said as if it wasn’t difficult at all for him to give up his plans. “And absolutely not, I’m not going to sail into the blue like that just based on your last location in allegedly 27 years from now” Crocodile said with a scoff. “We need information.” He smiled down at the log pose. “And I might have an idea where we could get it.”
To be continued? If you find it too hard to read on here I can post it on AO3.
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ierofrnkk · 2 days
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the sum of his parts - steven grant
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Summary: You love Steven Grant, and there are some parts of him that stick out in your mind a little more than others. (~1.2k)
Content: 18+, gn!reader but reader has a vagina (no fem pronouns used), very brief & vague oral (f receiving), fingering, egregious use of italics.
a/n: This is the first thing I’ve really ever fully written AND posted!! Forgive me for it being vague and unpolished—I will get better!! I’ve just been so captivated by these boys after watching Moon Knight that I had to write something!
You love Steven as a whole, the culmination of all things that make him him, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t notice the little things.
The details.
The first thing you loved about Steven was his hair; the way that the curls were always pushed to one side, sitting atop his head like his brush had broken and he’d neglected to buy a new one.
It was one of the first things you touched when you finally had the opportunity to, making up some story about how he’d had a shred of paper stuck to one of his curls—he hadn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.
You couldn’t get enough of the soft texture, even after months of getting to experience it. You had your hands in his hair every chance that you got.
When the two of you lay on the couch together, him cuddled against your chest as you watched the next documentary about the evolution of earth’s marine life, or something, you would drag your fingers through his hair idly. He would sigh in appreciation of the gentle touch.
When he’d be in a flurry early in the morning, racing to get ready on time before he missed the bus, you caught him for the briefest moments to smooth your palm across his unruly curls, taming the locks as best you could before he raced out the door.
When he’d settle himself between your thighs, mouth on your cunt like he’d die if you pulled him away, you’d tangle your fingers in those same dark curls, tightening your grip just enough to keep him in place. He always sighed appreciatively then, too.
The next thing you’d found yourself loving about Steven were his eyes, always wide like saucers and taking in every ounce of information that they can. The color of them always reminded you of coffee, but specifically the cups that he’d make for you in the early hours of the morning, perfect like no one else could.
You’re stupidly fond of the way he looks at you when you talk—it could be the most mundane thing, like laundry or dinner, and he’d be watching you so intently it’d feel like you’re giving a presentation on newly-unearthed artifacts in Cairo.
You remember the first time he cried in front of you. It was over something that seems so simple now; the two of you had made plans for dinner at your apartment, and he’d shown up late—through no fault of his own, the train wasn’t on schedule—but he’d felt so guilty about it that it brought him to tears. You can still see the way he looked in your mind: brows knit together, those beautifully dark eyes rimmed red and filled with tears.
He’d apologized profusely, and you silenced him with a kiss.
You like the way he looks when he’s half asleep, doing his best to fight his drowsiness to spend as much time with you as physically possible. His gaze is softer, somehow, his eyes half-lidded even with the way he fights to keep them wide open. That’s when you know he’s not going to last much longer before he’s out for the night.
When you’re kissing him, and you pull back for that brief, glorious moment, his eyes are dark, pupils blown with desire in a way that sends a wave of heat to your core.
You don’t miss the way those pretty eyes of his flutter shut whenever you touch him, even if it’s something simple; he’s touch-starved—not that he’ll ever admit that to you—so any physical show of affection is nearly enough to put him over the edge.
You’ve become familiar with the way he drifts, his eyes seeming to haze over and go unfocused—when he goes away for a moment—caught in his own reflection and watching as if there’s something else there with him.
You’ve quickly grown to become fond of his hands, in many more ways than just one.
You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to hold his hand all the time, to feel the warmth of his palm against your own, fingers interlaced with yours in the way that makes you feel like nothing could separate you two. He made sure to hold your hand at every opportunity.
You’re very grateful for that.
When he takes one of his hundreds of books off of his bookshelf, flipping through page after page as he looks for a specific section, you can’t help but watch his hands. He moves with ease and precision, stark from the way he’s usually fumbling or unsure of where to go. He’s in his element, and you recognize that.
When he joins you on your monthly grocery trip, he insists on bringing all of the bags up in one go—he’s trying to be helpful, even if it means making things more difficult for him; that’s just how Steven is. Selfless. You can’t get enough of the sight of him like that, though, with multiple grocery bags held in each hand, all while he does his best to navigate your apartment complex.
You remember the first time he truly, properly held your hand; he’d done it in such a Steven way that you couldn’t deny him. He’d gone off on some spiel about human evolution and something about how in ancient civilizations, the size of your hands denoted status—you can see where this is going—and he insisted the two of you compared the size of your hands. For the sake of anthropology, of course.
Knowing what he was getting at, you obliged, pressing your palm to his, and without a beat of hesitation, he laced his fingers with your own, a sheepish grin on his face as a result of his boldness. You couldn’t even be mad about it.
Of course, those hands of his are good for more than just holding yours or carrying your groceries.
The first time he made you come was with his hands; he was too impatient to even wait to fuck you properly—he just had to touch you—so, he did.
You remember the feeling of his hands on your thighs, shifting and adjusting you until you were in a good position for him. He had made sure to not be too rough with you, even in his desperation. Sweet, considerate Steven.
His hands, as fidgety and hesitant as they usually are, were precise and sure when he touched you. He moved deftly when he found your slit, dragging his fingers through the wetness that’d already gathered there.
It wasn’t long after until one of those same thick fingers pushed into your heat, then another. It’s practiced—efficient— like he’s done this for you a thousand times, even though you both know he hasn’t.
When his thumb had brushed your clit, with just enough pressure to send another wave of heat up your spine, you knew you were done for. He had looked at you with those eyes, pupils blown and eyes half-lidded, and you could tell right then that he was more focused on your pleasure than his own.
When you finish, you card your fingers through his raven curls, holding just enough to bring him close enough that you can kiss him.
He goes willingly, all sweet and pliant as you maneuver him closer, and you’ve never been more grateful to have someone like him.
Steven is much, much more than just the sum of his parts, but you sometimes have to put him under a microscope and appreciate everything that makes him him.
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cosmicdahlias · 3 days
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I Hate Everything About You
a ford x reader fic
MINORS DNI
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warnings: slut-shaming, slapping, oral, rough sex, choking, breeding, drugs (weed)
this is my first stab at an enemies to lovers fic. i’ve always loved the trope, so this was a lot of fun. i also definitely didn’t include them smorkig weed because i’m like missing it and living vicariously through my writing or anything. 👀💦
You sat in your dorm finishing your homework. You were in your junior year at Backupsmore University with a major in theoretical physics, winter break was two weeks away. Tonight you were on edge, dreading a knock on the door. The reason? You had been assigned to write a research paper with Stanford fucking Pines.
Oh my god how you hated him. Success and praise flocked to him. You were the only feminine presenting person in your major, and thus had to fight tooth and nail to be seen as even half as good as your male classmates.
It drove you mad how professors just seemed to naturally love him, whereas they never showed you the time of day. And worst of all? He was arrogant and self-absorbed. He thought himself so much better than the other- in his words- “troglodytes” around him.
But what you hated the most was how attracted to him you were. How could you want to fuck someone so badly when you hated their guts? You always tried to repress your feelings, but some nights you still shamefully found yourself with your hand between your legs, thoughts running wild of Stanford using you like a sex toy.
You quietly seethed over your homework when you heard knocking at your door. You sighed heavily and pushed your chair back, savoring your last Stanford free moments.
You swung the door open and there stood the man that you despised more than everything.
“Stanford.” You said coldly.
“Y/n.” He responded, not even entertaining the idea of making eye contact with you, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.
-
Barely an hour had passed before you two found yourselves locked in a heated argument. A simple disagreement over formatting had boiled over.
“Jesus christ, Stanford why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?”
“I’M making things difficult? I’m not the one who’s been shooting daggers all night, barely responding to my questions because apparently talking to me is like pulling teeth. What the hell did I ever do to make you hate me this much?”
“Oh you really wanna know why I hate you? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that professors fawn over you for the most menial effort, meanwhile I’ve had to work myself to the bone, slaving away just to earn half the recognition you barely have to lift a finger for.” You spat.
“Well maybe if you kept your legs closed every now and then this wouldn’t be nearly as hard as you make it.”
Hot tears formed in your eyes, you quickly raised a hand and brought it down hard on his face. He stumbled back, his cheeks turning bright red and not from the slap. You looked down, a bulge clearly forming in his pants.
“Fuck, that’s hot.” You thought, quickly growing angrier that he had managed to turn you on like this.
“For fuck’s sake Stanford, are you serious?” You said through gritted teeth.
“I- well I- it’s not like I can help it. I’ve never been slapped before.”
You stared at each other for a moment, the sexual tension building.
“Look,” he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation “it’s clear we both have some underlying feelings for each other, perhaps it would be for the best if we-“
“Whoa whoa whoa,” you said, cutting him off “maybe you do, but I certainly don’t.”
“Oh please, don’t lie to yourself. I catch you staring at me during lectures all the time, undressing me with your eyes, nothing anywhere like the malice you so pretended to demonstrate tonight. Admit it, you like me. Despite aaaaaall of your personal hangups about my successes, you genuinely have feelings for me.” He said, crossing his arms.
He let his words hang in the air, a smirk creasing his lips. God, he was such a dick.
“Now,” he continued “I was going to say I think it would be best if we just put this to bed, literally.”
“Stanford, no I-“ the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.
He chuckled, tilting your chin up. “I knew it, you want this.”
He pressed a firm kiss to your lips. He was right, you did want this. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t imagined him between your thighs during class. You reached a hand down, fondling his cock over his pants.
“Mmm, fuck.” He groaned into your mouth.
You both began removing each other’s clothes desperately. He looked down at your naked body, his breath shaking. He took your breast in his hand, stroking your nipple with his thumb.
“Do you know the things those brutes in class say about you, about your body? When you walk into the room every man fucks you with their eyes, but you like it that way, don’t you?”
You took his thick cock in your hand and stroked it, he moaned and buried his head in the crook of your neck. He pulled himself away then pointed to the floor. You sank to your knees in front of him and wrapped your fingers around his cock again, pumping the near 8.5 inches in your hand. He tilted his head back, groaning and cursing.
“Put my cock in your mouth, baby.”
You went to slowly take his head in your mouth, but he seized a fistful of your hair and shoved the full length down your throat. You choked and gagged.
“You know I was thinking of being nice, but honestly I think you deserve to be brutally fucked after the way you’ve been acting. How does that sound, princess?”
You nodded with his cock buried in your mouth.
“Good, although honestly I was planning on doing it regardless.”
He gritted his teeth and resumed bucking furiously into your mouth. You to whimpered and gagged around him, tears streaming down your face.
“You’re my little slut now, you understand?”
You let out a muffled “Mhmf.”
“Look at you, letting me fuck your mouth like this. Do you let anyone else do this to you?”
He pulled out to let you answer. “No.”
He shoved his cock back in your mouth. “Let’s keep it that way. I’m not big on- mmf, sharing. I always figured the rumors of you being the campus whore weren’t true. You have too much self respect for that, but I bet you’re so dirty when you’re alone. Picturing me fucking you in every position, touching yourself and cumming with my name on your lips.”
He quickened pace, fucking your mouth rapidly in pure aggression. He growled and his hips stuttered, he was going to cum in your mouth if he kept going like this. He pulled you back by your hair and you took in a gasping breath. He didn’t give you a chance to breathe before picking you up and throwing you facedown on the bed.
He knelt behind you, slapping your ass hard a few times. “There, now I think we’re even.”
His hands pinned your wrists to the bed and he teased your entrance for barely even a second before slamming every inch inside you. You struggled to hold back a loud moan, trying to not let the whole floor know that you were getting absolutely wrecked.
He growled and moved his hands to your hips, fucking you so hard that it felt like his cock was going to split you in half.
“I have a confession to make, y/n.” He breathed between violent thrusts into you. “I saw you, two weeks ago, in the library. You didn’t see me, you leaned down to select a book off the lowest shelf and I could see your panties under your skirt. Pink with black lace. God I- I couldn’t resist, not after watching you eye me up in class. I found a quiet part of the library and stroked my cock to the thought of you.”
He picked up his pace, the slaps of his hips meeting your ass only aroused you more. “When our professor announced the assignment I knew I had to have you. I went and spoke to him after class and convinced him to pair you up with me. And now look at you, taking my cock like the whore you are, just like I knew you would.”
You gripped the sheets in your fingers as he pounded you into the mattress. Jesus fucking christ the idea of him getting worked up because of you was enough to fuel your masturbation fantasies for months. The thought of him stroking himself- in public no less- just because he saw your panties, good god you were going to savor that image in your mind forever.
He flipped you over on your back, kissing you deeply. His hands found your hips and pulled you onto his cock, resuming his aggressive rhythm.
“I love the feeling of fucking you from behind, but I need to see those eyes.”
He slid his hand to your throat, gripping it tightly. You choked out a weak moan and the corners of your vision started to turn to black static.
“God you’re gonna make me fucking cum. I want you to look in my eyes as I breed you, princess.”
He pounded faster and faster, savoring every moan and whimper that passed your lips. You dug your nails into his back causing his cock to twitch and throb, edging him closer by the second to cumming inside you.
“Look into my eyes, look into my eyes as I cum in you.” He demanded.
The sight of your doe eyes looking back at him was what did it. His brutally fast pace faltered and his breathing hitched and as he felt himself release deep in you, his hot cum coating your walls. He moaned your name loudly.
He panted, exhausted and collapsed beside you, trying to catch his breath. You were about to kiss him when he started making his way down your body.
“Stanford what are you-“
“Finishing the job, I’m not about to leave you unsatisfied like some kind of neanderthal would, I’m better than that.” He muttered.
You rolled your eyes, there he goes being arrogant as usual.
He took your clit in his mouth, you reached a hand down and buried it in his hair. He hummed against you, tongue lapping at your delicate nub.
“So desperate for me, aren’t you?” He teased.
“Nnnngh, Stanford.”
He looked up at you and chuckled. “Please, call me Ford.”
He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them against your g-spot. You arched your back instinctively and he held you in place by your hips.
“Getting close already are we?”
“Mmh, I can’t help it, you’re too good at this.”
“Surprisingly research goes a long way. It’s amazing what certain books can teach you.” He said with a devilish smile.
“You fucking nerd, I didn’t say you could stop.” You tightened your grip on his hair and pushed him against your clit, he let out a little “hmf”.
You rocked your hips against his tongue, feeling yourself tip over the edge.
“Ahh hah, oh Ford.”
Your orgasm shook you, hitting you hard. All you could do was focus on your breathing. Ford watched you intently, god you looked so perfect when you came.
He moved himself up on the bed, coming behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist, spooning you.
Goddammit, you really thought you were going to just bottle up your feelings for Ford until the day you died, but here you were in post coital bliss with him pressed against you.
-
The conflicting feelings of fucking the classmate you thought you despised moments ago started to weigh on you, you needed to take the edge off. You rolled out of Ford’s arms and off the bed, his eyes following you. You dug around in your bedside drawer pulling out a small baggie and a glass pipe.
You packed the bowl and flicked the lighter, taking in a long drag. You let out a cloud of smoke and sighed heavily before laying back down next to Ford, who was still watching you. You raised an eyebrow.
“What is it six fingers?”
“Nothing, I just-“
“Lemme guess, those anti drug psa’s really got to you as a kid.”
He looked away, embarrassed.
You rolled your eyes again. “Jesus, you really are a fucking nerd. Here.”
You handed the pipe to him, he took it in his hand, studying it for a second before flicking the lighter taking a deep inhale, you watched him hold his breath and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Dude, holding it doesn’t do anything, breathe.” You snorted.
He took gasping breath and let out a hacking cough, smoke coming out of his nose.
“That’s what they- ack- always do in the movies.” He wheezed.
“For the love of god, you really need to get out more.”
You passed the pipe back and forth for a good while, talking about random shit. By the end of it you were both sufficiently stoned.
You quickly learned that Ford was very affectionate when he was high, he pulled you close against him, nuzzling the back of your neck, peppering your skin with kisses. He traced the curves of your body with his fingers.
“You know, I was starting to think you genuinely hated me.” He murmured into your neck.
You let out a long sigh. “Ford don’t think I ever actually hated you, I envy you. Everything seems to come so easy to you, almost naturally. Your professors love you and- I don’t know- it was just hard not to feel a twinge of jealousy. Like this college wasn’t even my first choice, everywhere else rejected me and I still have to bust my ass just to be seen as being worth anyone’s time.”
Ford took a breath and exhaled deeply. “BMU wasn’t exactly what I had planned on either, I mean, remember what they said at orientation? This is no one’s first choice. My dream school was West Coast Tech, but things… fell through.”
He paused, you could tell there was weight to that last part, memories too painful to say aloud. You didn’t pry.
“Y/n, I want you to understand it hasn’t been easy for me either. I’ve had to work twice as hard just to make something of myself at a school with nonexistent educational standards.”
You felt a pang of guilt for ever assuming this was in any way easy for him. You turned to him, holding his face in your hands and kissing him deeply.
He broke away. “You know I was thinking we could grab coffee in the morning before heading to the library to work on our paper together. I- if you want, that is.” He looked away, nervous.
You smiled and kissed him again. “I’d like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You laid your head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead. His breathing deepened as he began to fall asleep. You soon felt your eyelids grow heavy, following Ford into slumber.
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razrbladekiss · 2 days
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TOLERATE IT | Joel Miller
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SUMMARY: an argument with joel doesn’t end the way that you think it will.
PAIRING: joel miller x afab!reader. (established relationship)
WARNINGS: very short piece. angsty argument so if u do nawt want to read, then skip <3. i’m in the middle of an argument with my bf and instead of feeding into it, i have immortalized it into my writing 😊 sorry joel for being my proverbial punching bag ! maybe ill make a part two if we ever make up LOL.
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Fat tears spill over the swollen apples of your cheeks faster than you can wipe them away with the already much-too-wet sleeve of your sweatshirt, and the room starts to spin.
Your face is damp with salty—bittersweet—upset, and a splitting migraine is beginning to fester away at the inside of your fucking brain.
“You can’t keep doing this.” Joel stands with both hands on his hips while you’re sat cross-legged on the couch, a cushion sat plump in your lap. “Can’t keep cryin’ whenever we have an argument—“
“But you’ve upset me, Joel!” Almost incoherently, you blabber. “You can’t expect me to be cool with the fact that you were flirting with some—some skank last night!”
He drags his left hand over his face. Joel exerts an exasperated sigh. He doesn’t know how many more hours he can argue with you about this, before he says something that he’s going to regret.
“I know. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it—but why the fuck are you still crying?!” Joel barks. “It’s been hours, baby! Can’t we move past this—“
“No! We can’t!” Scraping your hand across your eyes—all tears immediately drying up—you stand to attention. You smack the pillow onto the couch in complete and utter fucking fury. “It’s been four years of us, Joel. Four fucking years that I thought we were happy—but apparnelty you’re not! Are you bored of me, or something?!”
“No!” Defensively, he exclaims. He’s just as annoyed as you, now. Though he has no place to be. “I don’t know what came over me—“
“Four years. Forty-Eight months I’ve spent being by your side—completely faithful—and you think it’s okay to just fuck around on me?!”
“I’m not fuckin’ around on you!” Mood—and tone—matching, he counters. “I love you. But I was hammered last night—“
I was hammered. I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know what came over me.
BULLSHIT. You’ve heard it all before and, frankly, you’re sick of it. The excuses, the lies…Dating a prolific man-whore isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, actually.
“You need to get your act together.” With a shaking hand, you point at him. Your finger is trembling against his flannel. “If you want this to work, then you’ll stop lying to me—“
“I’m. Not. Fucking. Lying.” Through gritted teeth, he says.
Joel has confessed his wrongdoings, but it’s not enough. To you, he owes you more than just an explanation.
“I don’t believe you.” Devoid of any emotion—any feeling—you state. “You told me that you were going to Tommy’s last night to watch the Cowboys game. But Tommy came here at six o’clock asking for you, and said that they weren’t even fucking set to play! You’re a fucking liar, Joel!”
He backs away with both hands up, completely defeated. You’re tenacious, when you want to be. Sanctimonious. He knows he’ll never win an argument, so he walks away to leave you alone with time to cool off.
But to you—to most people—that’s him giving up.
Joel takes the keys to his truck from the fruit bowl beside the front door, grabs his jacket and unlocks the front door.
He turns to you without even so much as a smile. “Call me when you’re ready to have an adult fucking conversation.”
Joel slams shut the door and you begin to fume all over again. To your left is a picture of the two of you last summer—when you were happy and carefree in Mykonos—and you know that it won’t do anything to help the issue, but you grab it. With a firm hand, you launch it at the door.
Fragments of glass shatter against the door, the floor and fly across the room in every which direction perfectly depicting the current state of your heart after Joel started to break it.
Your eyes are streaming again, hearing his truck peel away from the sidewalk and to god-knows fucking where.
But there’s no use in crying over him anymore. You just need to tolerate it. Tolerate this. Because Joel knows it’ll take more than an “I’m sorry” to really make it up to you.
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o-sachi · 3 days
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─── Sachi's Selfship Event ✦
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Heya, here's my event for my 500 followers milestone. It's been fun writing my silly thoughts and sharing it on this blog. Thanks for all the support y'all have given me. But, as I've mentioned in my last post, I'll start writing on a different blog.
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✦ The Event ───
Basically, you tell me about your selfship and I give you a set of headcanons based on the SFW alphabet (see content under the cut for the alphabet). For moots and followers that I recognize, I’ll do 10 letters. For everyone else, 8 letters. And for anons, 6 letters.
For fandoms, please keep it within Blue Lock, Wind Breaker, Mashle, and Kaiju no. 8!
✦ Instructions ───
Send me an ask containing the following: your chosen character, your chosen letters, your likes & dislikes, love languages (receiving and giving), hobbies, interests, basic description of your appearance, picrews, random facts, some of your own lore about your selfship, etc. —literally everything that can help me write a more accurate set of headcanons
* Since some people might not be comfortable sharing their info, I’ll keep the asks in my inbox and tag you on your post instead. But if you’re on anon, I have no choice but to answer the ask.
✦ Rules ───
1. Do not rush me with your request. If you’ve sent me an ask, I’ve definitely read it.
2. Only one selfship per person!
3. Do not include any nsfw information in the ask that you will send me.
Note: Depending on the amount of asks I get, I might not be able to fulfill all of them. Of course, moots and followers take priority!
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Fulfilled Letters !
✉️: Letter for Lumi ✉️: Letter for Candy ✉️: Letter for Amy ✉️: Letter for Rye
✉️: Letter for Maru ✉️: Letter for Chiya ✉️: Letter for Miro ✉️: Letter for Jei
✉️: Letter for Mari
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Check under the cut for the letters you can choose from ~
These are just general descriptions for each letter, but based on the info you'll give me, I can delve into it deeper and provide stuff beyond what is written here.
A - Affection How do they show their affection for you? Do they get bouts of cuteness aggression?
B - Best Quality What they think is/are your best quality/ies and why
C - Comfort How do they comfort you when you're sad and down?
D - Dates What kind of dates do you two like to go on? How frequent?
E - Early Relationship How did you two get together? What was it like when you were just first starting out?
F - Fights What do you usually fight over? Do you quarrel often? How do things get resolved? Who says sorry first?
G - Gifts Their favorite gift that they got from you or a gift they've given to you. Do they like receiving gifts? If so, what kinds?
H - Hugs Are they a hugger? What kinds of hugs do they prefer? What about cuddling?
I - Intimacy What makes you feel connected at a deeper level? What kind of romance do you have?
J - Jealousy How jealous are they? How do they deal with it?
K - Kisses How do they kiss you? Do they like kissing?
L - Laughter What are your inside jokes? What do you usually laugh about together? Who's funnier?
M - Memories What is your most cherished memory together?
N - Nicknames Do they like nicknames? If so, what do they like to be called or what do they call you?
O - Other People What do other people think about your relationship? (Family, friends, co-workers, etc.)
P - Patience How patient are they? Who's the more patient one between the two of you? What happens if they lose their patience?
Q - Quirks What are some quirks you adopted from each other? Or what are the quirks that only come out when you're together?
R - Rituals What are some things in your routines that you like to do together? Is it common or unusual? How frequent is it? Is it a daily, weekly, or annual thing?
S - Support How do they show their support for your hobbies and interests? How involved are they?
T - Time Apart How do you spend your time apart? Who caves first? Who handles it better?
U - Uniqueness What sets you apart from other couples?
V - Values What are your shared values?
W - Wildcard Random headcanon about your relationship
X - XOXO What are the little things that they do for you? Do you notice them or maybe they go unnoticed?
Y - Yin & Yang How do you complement each other? How do you make them a better person? Or how do you make them happier? Are you two opposites or are you more similar to each other?
Z - Zrandom (sorry ran out of ideas, forgive me) Pick a theme or any topic and I'll make a headcanon for it :)
Again, for moots and followers that I recognize, I’ll do 10 letters. For everyone else, 8 letters. And for anons, 6 letters.
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gor3sigil · 2 days
Text
What being trans means to me
I love being trans. I love transitioning. The thing is, most of the time, I read about other trans people experiences. And I just can’t relate.
I have plenty of tattoos and piercings, and if I have to be 100% honest with y’all, I see transitioning like a bodmod. To me, getting top surgery was one, as I wanted to at least get my nipples removed before I even knew top surgery was an option.
I see HRT as much as a bodmod. A few years back, I wasn’t so sure I even wanted HRT, but after thinking it through and doing a lot of research, I decided to do it. And I never looked back. I’m close to 2 years on T, which isn’t a lot, and I don’t even know if I plan to stay on T for very long, maybe I’ll stop at some point. Who knows.
It goes hand in hand with the everlasting identity crisis I’ve been having since I was born, basically. I was a different person before, and she was so tired, so she left the body to some dude, and he got tired, and they fused, and it was me, and I’m in a trans body, I’m trans, I take T like I paint my nails, I take T like a cigarette, I take T like a hot bath. It’s comforting, it makes me feel good, it makes me feel at home in this body.
I got surgery because I wanted my silhouette to be mine. I changed my name because since I was little, and that’s the only point for which I can say confidently I knew since I was a kid, I never understood why we couldn’t name ourselves. To me, a name was so intimate, so personal, that I couldn’t understand why it had to be someone else’s choice. So I took a new one and changed it.
And now I look at myself in the miror and I’m Cyan, and I got a flat chest, and I have a deep voice, and I’ll do my T shot on friday just like I do every 14 days since almost 2 years, with the same pleasure, with the same smile on my face, the same rush I ever have when I’m excited for my shot.
Close to the feeling I get when I get a new piercing, when I up the size of my lobes, when I feel the first tingles of the needles that tattoo me.
I didn’t “always knew” I was trans. I remember being a kid with a shit ton of OCs, and names for myself that I couldn’t choose, and whose dream was to live a thousand lives before I died. I don’t know who I will be in 3 years. Or in 6 months.
It says on a letter that I suffer from gender dysphoria, and by all means it was true before top surgery. Not so much now. I still am insecure about my body a lot of times because there’s some things missing to my chara design and I am fatter IRL lmao, but with this body I cum, I eat good food, I get drunk, I smoke, I feel hot and fresh water, I swim, I sing, I write this. Even when it’s half broken and it’s raining and my joints ache and I feel like I’m already old, I love this body. I’m not the type of people who will be like “your body is a temple, you HAVE to exercise and eat only fresh veggies” because if I have to be here let me at least have fun. I take care of myself though, maybe not as much as I should, but the best I can.
If I hadn’t overcome everything I did in my life, maybe I wouldn’t have transitioned. Or maybe I would. I don’t care. I don’t need a reason, and neither do you.
This is what I mean when I say that everyone should do whatever the fuck they want because, I wasn’t born trans, or at least I don’t think so. But does it make my transition less valid ? No. I’m better in my skin that ever, even when the low self esteem hits, and I know I would feel way less good if I hadn’t transition. That’s all that matters.
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What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)
Epilogue
As summer fades, the ghouls settle in further. New friends and relationships blossom, and a new band performs their first ritual in the local village.
Rating: M Content: possessive behavior Words: 4812
Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3
Not bad for a fic that was meant to be 5 chapters and about 15k words… this was supposed to be a quick little fic that I wrote before moving on to write the longer soulmates AU I’ve been planning since around March! 
As I think I've mentioned, this isn't the end! This was always supposed to be a Raindrop fic, and so Swissalps's story will be continued in a sequel. I'll be dropping the first chapter shortly, and I have a special invitation for it if anyone wants that in their ask box! message me or reply if you'd be interested?
I can't let myself get too sappy here or it'll end up longer than the chapter itself. But thank you to everyone who's been so lovely about this fic in replies or reblogs (especially looking at @everybodyshusband @cosmicseafoam @jazz-bazz @0-miles-away @papaslittlesunshine @ligovskaya @midnight-moth @karmicbias @kentuckyfriedsatan and anyone who's AO3 username I haven't correlated to a tumblr blog yet!), I wouldn't have stuck with this so long without you guys 🖤🖤
Read below, or on AO3!
The weeks passed, the summer fading further every day. With the final harvests nearly all brought in and the trees painting themselves in a hundred shades of amber and gold, autumn was finally upon the Abbey. No amount of dulling of the colours of nature could dull the passion of Rain and Dew’s relationship however, even as they found themselves slipping into a routine. For the Abbey’s fire ghouls, it was all hands on deck to help keep the grain dry, yet amidst his busy schedule Dew still found ample time to luxuriate in him and his pack’s safe and comfortable new home. Most importantly though, he thought, he had time to spend with his m– Rain.  
Dew had to stop himself for the thousandth time from thinking of Rain as his mate. To him, the rituals were practically complete. Having passed on his amulet, he had opened his heart and shared his soul. For Rain though, he knew they were only at the end of the first step of the many that comprised a water ghoul's courting ritual. They had many months left before Rain would have completed his side of the tradition; the next step being gifts that were less about being pretty, and more practical gifts for their future together. Dew had no way of knowing that Rain was already hard at work on that front; taking advice from his new pod of water ghouls on the best kinds of kelp to harvest from the lake here, and the weaving patterns that would create the softest possible blankets from it. Dew was happy to wait for Rain however; even if it took millennia, he would wait for him. 
As the weeks passed for Dew and Rain and their relationship grew both deeper and stronger, Swiss and Mountain continued to dance around each other, both backing out of making the final move at the last second. Their friendship had never been stronger, and with that came the higher pressure of what was a stake if their feelings were not reciprocated. 
Aether could see straight through their – at times – comedically oblivious behaviour. He had known Mountain for so many years now, and Swiss a great number too, that he could decipher the thoughts running through their heads just like reading a book. Seeing his pack couple off like they were doing could have made him feel lonely and jealous, he supposed. Considering his thoughts however, he couldn't find a scrap of negativity towards any of them. Really, he was just happy to see his pack happy.  
He had a fulfilling life; a pack, new friends around the Abbey. Aether had always said that he was happy alone, with no desire to settle with a mate. Admittedly, Mountain had said something similar when they first met, but Swiss seemed to have been an exception there. Over the recent weeks since Cumulus had properly introduced them, Aether had especially been enjoying getting to know Cowbell. The quiet ghoul's steady, timeless attitude felt grounding amongst the recent chaos of his life, and Aether could tell they seemed as delighted to have made a new friend as he was. 
Aether’s role in the infirmary was also going better than he could have expected. Astra had quickly seen how unnecessary any training she could offer him would be, and had set him up mentoring some of the younger quintessence ghouls. To his mild amusement, he had gained a small gaggle of quintessence ghouls who followed him around the infirmary like little ducklings, hanging on his every word and keen to lap up every scrap of knowledge he imparted. Aether found he enjoyed that side of his new role more than he had expected, and looked forward to teaching the younger ghouls each shift. 
With the Harvest Festival quickly approaching, one of the main tasks of the infirmary ghouls had been to prepare a supply of tinctures and remedies for the ghouls and siblings alike who would inevitably indulge a little too heavily in the Abbey’s famous blackberry wine. Due to his extensive knowledge of medicinal plants and herbs, Astra had delegated the task of organising this to Aether, who had grasped the extra responsibilities firmly. 
Before the festival however, came the one thing that was more exciting to the pack; Swiss, and Copia’s first musical engagement in the local tavern. Sunshine and Mountain were also heavily occupied now in rehearsals for it, the three ghouls – and one human – doing an excellent job of hiding their nerves from the rest of the pack. 
The pack was something else that had grown stronger at the Abbey, thought Aether. It hadn’t taken long for the five ghouls to begin to see the ghoulettes they lived their lives in such proximity to as more than just casual friends. Dew had clearly seen them as family long before the others had, but within the span of time they had been here the other ghouls also came to see them as an interwoven part of their lives. 
The ghoulettes, Cirrus and Cumulus in particular, had been referring to the new ghouls as pack, long before they were aware of it. The Den had become so much more crowded and noisier since they arrived, but none of the ghoulettes would change it for the world. The Abbey could feel large and lonely at times, and the constant presence of at least one member of the newly extended pack made everything feel cosier.  
Indeed, the concert – Aether still found calling it a “Ritual” to be laughable, although he would be happy to be proved wrong – was to be their first true pack adventure. The nine ghouls, plus Cowbell, Copia and several Siblings of Sin, were all planning to make the journey down the hill to support their leader’s latest passion project. Cowbell had offered to drive them in the large horse and cart usually used for their monthly grocery runs to the village, and as such the event was developing quite a party-like atmosphere. 
Even amongst the ghouls not attending, most either too busy or incapable of holding an adequate glamour, the day held excitement and novelty. There was a general buzz in the air throughout the Abbey, and it was riding this high that inspired most of the ghouls to finalise their remaining chores before the harvest festival the following day. 
One ghoul in particular who seemed to be buoyed along by the jubilant environment was a young, dark-haired fire ghoul. He was comparatively new to the Abbey, arriving some years after Dew left. Swiss was hurrying back to the Den, bringing armfuls of freshly-washed clothes from the laundry when the fire ghoul strode up to him with a self-assured, almost cocky, grin. 
“Good luck for tonight,” he purred in a low voice like treacle, reaching out a muscular arm to lay a hand on Swiss’ own bicep, “I’ll be at the festival tomorrow, if you want to get a celebratory drink together?” 
Swiss stood confused: he couldn’t remember ever speaking to this ghoul before, and certainly not in a way that would cause him to be so familiar with him. He hoisted the pile of clothes further into his arms, trying to think of a polite was to ask who he was exactly. 
“I, um…” Swiss trailed off, distracted by a low noise ringing in his ears. He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge it but to no avail: if anything, it seemed to be getting louder. A dark and earthy scent suddenly assaulted his senses, and he wondered if he was falling ill, or if he had been cursed or something. It seemed the fire ghoul could feel it too though, as Swiss saw the colour drain from his face, rendering his tanned, olive skin an ashy grey. His terrified eyes were fixed on a point above and behind Swiss, and he stood frozen like a deer caught in a ranger's torchlight. Swiss cautiously turned around, half expecting to see some kind of nether-worldly monster oozing out of the wall. 
All he saw was Mountain however, stood tall and stony-faced with a dark aura emanating from him. The added height of his antler-like horns meant he cut an imposing figure. His lip curled into a snarl as he growled again, and a new wave of that woodsy, almost possessive scent washed over Swiss. As much as it seemed to be scaring the fire ghoul, Swiss thought it smelled divine. He smiled at Mountain with a questioning head-tilt, wondering where this strange behaviour was coming from so suddenly. The Earth ghoul’s eyes were fixed on the fire ghoul however, who managed to unfreeze for long enough to stutter out a disjointed sentence. 
“I’m sorry!” He looked like he was staring straight into the face of death himself. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry!” 
With a jerk of his head, Mountain dismissed him, sending the terrified fire ghoul scuttling down the hallway as fast as he could run, his tail between his legs. Once he was out of sight, Mountain seemed to calm down. His expression softened, and the air around him seemed lighter again.  
“What was all that about?” Swiss asked, confused by the earth ghoul’s sudden black mood, and the even more sudden departure of the unknown fire ghoul.  
Mountain muttered something Swiss didn’t catch and started relieving him of the large bundle of black clothes in his arms. Swiss trailed back to the Den beside him, still utterly confused by the interaction that had just taken place. 
“Was I meant to know who that was?” He mused aloud. “He acted so familiar, yet I can’t remember him from anywhere!” 
Mountain almost dropped the clothes, as he doubled over and snorted with laughter, previous aggressive attitude long behind him now that he had the multi ghoul to himself again. Was Swiss seriously that clueless about the fire ghoul’s unsubtle actions? Ever since he’d known him, Swiss had been taking advantage of the humans’ proclivity for flirting with him, often reciprocating if he thought it would secure him more work, or tips and favours. He couldn’t think what would have changed now to make him so oblivious, unless it was simply that it was another ghoul, rather than a human? 
“He was clearly flirting with you, Snapdragon!” Mountain guffawed in disbelief. “Could you really not tell?” 
Swiss’s quizzical expression suggested that no, he had not been aware of that. Adding to his confusion was Mountain’s reaction: he seemed to be finding the fire ghoul’s actions funny now, but what had the growling and – he realised what it was now – scenting been about? The bounce in the taller ghoul’s gait could only be described as victorious, and he chose to file all the hope about why that could be away until after their performance tonight. That wasn’t a distraction he would allow himself today, not when Copia was relying on him. 
Swiss had a suspicion however – one he kept to himself – about why he hadn’t grasped what the fire ghoul was really suggesting, and it had everything to do with the earth ghoul trotting slightly ahead of him. He was self-aware enough to know his feelings for Mountain bordered on infatuation, and he figured that now he had become used to the intensity of those feelings that he had forgotten what anything smaller felt like. The thrill of attraction, or of a newly developing crush felt so insignificant now that they were dwarfed by the magnitude of his feelings for the earth ghoul. He only had eyes for Mountain, and the thought of anyone else thinking they stood a chance in the battle for his heart was laughable to him. Hastening his steps to catch up with Mountain, Swiss fell into step with him to revel in being by his side once again. 
Reaching the Den just before they did was an excitable Dewdrop. He burst through the main door, and then into the room he shared with Rain, brandishing a dull metal object. 
“Look!” He exclaimed to a slightly startled Rain lounging in their nest. “A horseshoe!”  
Rain could see that, although what he couldn’t see was why Dew was quite so excited about such a mundane object. He smiled at him with a questioning tilt of his head and waited for Dew to elaborate. 
“The humans do something with them at weddings,” Dew explained as he joined Rain on the bed, still clutching the curved iron shape, “something about them catching luck? I thought we could hang it on our door!” 
He held it out for Rain to examine, demonstrating how it could look like a vessel for capturing luck when held in a U-shape. Rain took it from him, and it really was just a regular horseshoe: slightly rusted and worn down from use. More interesting than the horseshoe though, Rain realised that this was the first time Dew had ever brought back something to keep for himself. He let Dew chatter on about needing to find a hammer and some nails, if they should think about painting their door before or after mounting the horseshoe, and what colour Rain would like if so, would he like teal? Rain nodded along, only half his mind on the conversation. The other half was preoccupied celebrating this relatively large step for Dewdrop; this was yet more proof that he was finally starting to settle properly and relax, putting down roots for himself and Rain, finally feeling a sense of permanence. 
“I got it when I went to see Cowbell just now,” Dew elaborated, “to check if they’re all ready to drive the cart down to the village tonight. They were just reshoeing the mare we brought with us from the village, so that means this shoe played a part in getting us out of there! It really is lucky!” 
Rain melted further. It was becoming increasingly apparent that deep down Dew had the potential to be an incredibly sentimental ghoul, and he couldn't wait to see how that continued. 
“It seems to be working so far then,” Rain murmured, holding it up, “I've had nothing but luck since you came back for me.” 
With that, he leaned in to steal a kiss; both the horseshoe and all talk of home décor soon being forgotten. 
The day seemed both to drag and pass all too quickly at the same time. Before they knew it, Swiss, Mountain and Sunshine were all dressed, and carefully buffing the metal masks that were a part of their outfits one final time. Copia had decided they added a nice touch to their costumes; the shining horns hinting at their ghoulish nature without actually revealing it. The whole Den was alive with excitement and nerves, the fervour growing as the light outside began to fade. 
Walking out to the front courtyard to meet Cowbell with the cart, Swiss proudly led the way with his guitar strapped to his back. This felt familiar, and more importantly it felt right; doubly so with Mountain by his side. Cowbell was leaned against the wooden trailer, as human-looking as anyone could remember ever seeing them before. They were smiling softly, although slightly apprehensively, as the pack approached. Behind the pack followed the Siblings of Sin, who had initially been keen for an evening out but now seemed to be regretting their decision. Swiss could smell the waves of alarm pouring off them as they got closer, none of them used to interacting with the ancient ghoul who lived in the stables. 
“Good evening, dear ghoul!”  
Copia greeted Cowbell as he bustled forward and hoisted himself up next to them at the front of the cart. The rest of them would be travelling in the back, even though none of them were particularly keen to be sharing the space. They had no choice however, and the Siblings dutifully lined up behind the crush of ghouls that were piling in and jostling for space on the narrow wooden benches. Rain and Dew happily squeezed themselves into a corner, and Swiss settled himself into another; Mountain willingly joining him and shuffling closer until their thighs were pressed tight against each other. There was eventually space made for everyone and with a jolt, the cart set off. The sudden motion and continued bumping along the cobbles of the courtyard threw Mountain even closer into Swiss. Even once they were onto the smoother path into the village, he remained plastered along Swiss’ side as the countryside flew by.  
It really was a beautiful evening, Swiss though as he glanced out at the trees and fields around them. The orange sunset cast its glow over everything, making the whole world look like it was on fire. Most vibrant of all however was Mountain; his auburn hair glowing in the light like it was itself aflame. With his large horns glamoured away, the russet glow was all that served to make him appear as otherworldly as he did. Swiss thought that the whole world around them could truly be on fire, and he would be happy to sit and burn if only to stare at Mountain for a second longer.  
They continued rattling down the hill towards the village, and Swiss felt a pang of longing when he spotted Dew with his head leaning on Rain’s chest; held against his front by the water ghoul's long arms. He wished he could be so casually affectionate with mountain, but he dared not. He wouldn’t allow himself to dream that until he had first concluded the hard part – making sure they really were both on the same page. He didn’t deserve such a reward without the prior work, he thought.  
All too soon they were slowing to a stop outside a wide stone building that was emitting a narrow stream of smoke from its chimney: the village tavern. The Siblings practically fell out of the cart, their instincts screaming at them to put some distance between themselves and the ghouls. 
“Go, my Children, enjoy yourselves!” Copia laughed as they threw themselves towards the tavern door. 
The ghouls were only slightly more restrained as they clambered down and spilled into the building. Cowbell made no move to follow the others inside, instead staying next to the pair of horses, stroking one's nose. Aether paused, looking back at them. 
“You aren't coming in?” he asked, worried that the ghoul didn’t realise that they were welcome in too. Cowbell shook their head. They didn’t like crowds, especially human ones, as the noise and bustle were too much for their deeply ancient mind to handle. Despite that, the biggest thing stopping them now however was their appearance: Cowbell gestured to their feet, where Aether saw that their hooves were very much still visible. 
“My glamour’s incomplete,” they shrugged, “’m out of practice. It’s been centuries since I last used it.” 
One day, Aether thought, he would ask Cowbell just how old they really were. He suspected it was millennia. 
“Go inside with the others,” Cowbell smiled a wonky smile, “I’ll be happier listening out here anyway. Besides, I have company.” They stroked the second horse. Reluctantly, Aether followed after the rest of the rabble he called pack, throwing a final look back at Cowbell. They were muttering something in the horse’s ear while continuing to pet them. It sounded to Aether like they were speaking Infernal, a language only spoken in the pit, or so he thought. The horse didn’t seem perturbed though, and she whinnied happily at the attention. 
Inside the tavern, the atmosphere was jovial already. The large room was dimly lit, wood-panelled walls and supporting columns all stained dark with years of fire and tobacco smoke. Scattered across the panelling were a patchwork of lighter sections from recent and less-recent repairs. The only lighting came from lanterns that lined the walls and hung directly from the vaulted ceiling, as well as a small number of candles dotted on tables that lent a cosy and friendly air to the place.  
Better lit however, was the makeshift stage against the wall. It was slightly raised, simply built from a few wooden planks resting on crates, but it did the job. On the other side was the bar, its countertop polished as smooth as glass from generations of patrons leaning on it. Along its length were a line of stools with faded fabric covers, and the remaining floor space was filled with a hodgepodge of tables and chairs, scattering in increasingly private settings ranging from the centre of the room to corners almost entirely shrouded in darkness. 
Leaping lightly onto the stage, Copia looked resplendent in his robes, with his face painted black and white in the mimicry of a skull. Swiss thought he cut an imposing figure, when he wasn’t turning around to look at his ghouls with nerve-tinged excitement at least. The man stretched his arms out wide, the candlelight flickering off his bedazzled chasuble and truly making him look like the head of the dark church. 
Before long, the tables began to fill up with locals, intrigued by the talk of visiting musicians from the mysterious Abbey up at the top of the hill. Rain, Dew and the other ghouls not performing settled themselves at the table nearest the stage, Dew looking particularly excited and practically bouncing in his seat beside Rain. Swiss didn’t know what had overtaken him recently, but he seemed so much lighter and carefree now. He assumed it was Rain. The bustling crowd completely filled the tavern as the four musicians took their places on stage. Swiss caught Mountain’s eye once he was settled on the box he used as percussion. He saw the twin green flashes of his eyes behind his mask wink at him, silently wishing him luck. Swiss beamed back at him, his teeth glinting in the firelight through the bottom of his mask. With a final tune of his guitar, and another smile at Sunny, Swiss nodded to Copia and the man addressed the crowd. 
The ritual passed in a blur, and before Swiss knew it, they were leaving the stage to rapturous applause and cheers. As he stepped down onto the solid floor, Swiss had a large beer thrust into his hands by a grinning stranger. The jubilant atmosphere continued as the night wore on, the ghouls and their Papa swept up with the crowd, never finding their tankards dry. Even the ghouls who had not been performing seemed to be having fun, spending the local money Copia had given them to allow them to fit in and enjoy the night. The man himself was circling through the crowd, inviting anyone and everyone to the Abbey’s harvest festival the following night. His plan to spread their message was going better than any one of them could have imagined, and he had gained the interest of several curious village members.  
The noise and ruckus were proving too much for Aether however, and after a while of watching Dew and Swiss race each other to down their pints, he grabbed a pair of tankards and slipped out the door. Another musician had taken the stage, an accordion player, and Aether found Cowbell tapping along to the beat on the frame and iron wheels of the cart with two sticks like it was a drum kit. Aether chuckled as he approached. 
“Copia ought to make the band all wear floor-length robes, then you could join them!” 
Cowbell looked slightly sheepish at being caught, but their forked tongue slipped out as they smiled anyway. They joined Aether where he perched on some crates and accepted one of the beers gratefully. Apart from the rhythmic sound of one foot and one hoof tapping on the ground, they sat in a comfortable silence; two friends enjoying each other’s quiet, unhurried company. 
Back inside, Swiss could feel every drop of alcohol going to his head, and he thought Mountain must be feeling it too. The night was blurring together into a busy cacophony of singing, cheering and laughing. The one thing he could feel coherently was the constant, grounding pressure of Mountain’s hands on him. The earth ghoul had slunk across the tavern to join him, then barely let him go all evening, always keeping a hold of his waist or hip, or letting their shoulders press against each other. If their tails weren’t safely hidden away, Swiss had the feeling that they too would be braided together.  
In his fuzzy mental state, he wasn’t entirely sure what could have brought such behaviour on. The almost possessive twinge to it, like Mountain was trying to ward the humans off, was making his him feel even more floaty than the alcohol. Running on a high from the successful performance, Swiss couldn’t find the mental energy to really care about why Mountain was suddenly glued to him, he only cared that he was. He saw Rain and Dew similarly pressed together, and his inebriated mind let him convince himself that they could be the same, if just for tonight. 
Whoever was on stage currently seemed to know the audience well and was gradually convincing more and more of the tavern’s patrons to dance to the jig he played. The humans pressing close, swirling and stamping to the beat, swept the ghouls up in their fervour. Swiss soon found himself pressed closer to Mountain, dancing partners even without indenting to be, the pair clutching each other's arms for balance as they ebbed and flowed with the tide of the crowd. 
As the dance ended, Swiss fell against Mountain’s chest. The earth ghoul held him close while they both caught their breath and laughed at the exhilaration. For a while, they held each other and swayed to a slow dance only they could hear. Hearts beating in sync, Swiss looked up at Mountain to see him already staring down at him. His peridot eyes were at the centre of his vision, the only thing Swiss could focus on. They seemed to grow and expand to fill his field of view, and Swiss only realised that this was because they were getting closer together when the twin points of light blurred out of focus.  
Swiss’s eyes fluttered shut, and with his vision gone all his other senses heightened in response. He could feel Mountain’s breath against his face and could smell the sour note of beer in it, although he didn’t find that as off-putting as he supposed he should as he stretched up on his tiptoes to bring them closer still. Swiss felt rather than heard Mountain’s final sigh against him, before the soft yet insistent press of Mountain’s lips to his shook him like an earthquake. With all their prior hesitancy washed away by the free-flowing liquor, Swiss pressed back instinctually, throwing his arms around Mountain’s shoulders and holding on like his life depended on it.  
Time meant nothing to the pair as they ignored the general ruckus of the crowd around them, and the chorus of whoops and cheers that Dew was leading. It was like all the background noise had faded away leaving only them stood in a world of their own. Before long, although it was really several hours at this point, Copia was desperately trying to shepherd his sleepy, tipsy ghouls and the Siblings into the cart to head back to the Abbey. They had a busy day tomorrow, he reminded them, as he had promised all the villagers that their little band would be performing at the harvest festival too.  
Slowly, they all stumbled out into the brisk night where Aether and Cowbell were waiting, three sheets to the wind themselves. Swiss and Mountain had managed to make it over the threshold of the tavern without separating, but getting into the cart proved more difficult. Breathing their own air for the first time in a while, they unsteadily clambered into the trailer, cramming themselves into a corner to continue where they left off, despite the jeers from the ghouls around them. 
“Even we're not that bad!” Swiss thought he heard Dew crow from somewhere behind him. 
Eventually, they had made the short trip back up the hill and were all bumbling back into the Abbey, still drunk off free beer and good energy. Kiss broken, Swiss continued to hold Mountain's hand as he pulled them into the Den and their room. He kicked his boots off, uncaring where they landed as they tumbled into bed, still giggly and touchy but both too tired to do any more than that.  
“Today was fun.” Swiss purred sleepily, as he wriggled in Mountain's arms. The earth ghoul was almost asleep already as he hummed in affirmation. Quickly, they fell into a deep, contented sleep. They could think about what the events of tonight meant for them in the morning. 
To be continued... 
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fp-am · 14 hours
Text
Ok I normally don’t write lazy oneshots in Tumblr posts but I had this idea
What if, during Green’s little evil arc, the gang just talked to Alan?
(And Green and Alan have to have a talk)
Lazy Oneshot under the cut.
*Green walks into Alan’s drawing program. It’s pretty awkward after the CG told him off. Alan is animating.*
Alan: Hey, Green.
Green (awkwardly): ..hey.
Alan: Have a seat.
*hesitantly, Green sits.*
Alan: So, you have a YouTube channel now. Is that correct?
Green: ..yeah?
Alan: That’s great! How’s it been doing?
Green (a bit surprised): It’s been really good! I’ve been gaining a lot of traction recently! I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it yet.
Alan: I see. Well, I’ve been watching your videos.
Green: Really?! They’re great, right?! I already know they are..
Alan: ..I’ve been watching your videos, and I have to say that your more recent ones are.. *he wholeheartedly chuckles, then laughs*.. they’re terrible!
Green(shocked): W-WHAT?!
Alan: Yeah! They’re bad! I can barely get through one. Too much editing, too much energy, it’s overwhelming.
Green (defensive): W-Well! That’s just you! My viewers love it! I know it! I read my comments!
Alan: Really now? Let’s go through them together then.
*Alan pulls up a tab with one of Green’s recent videos, pauses the video, and scrolls down to the comments. They appear positive.*
Green: Hah! See? They love me and the videos I put out!
Alan: Mhm. Let’s go a little further.
*as he scrolls, the comments get more negative and get more criticism”
Alan: There.
Green: Well.. there’s a reason they’re at the bottom! They’re wrong. Haters!
Alan: They’re not hating. They’re giving you feedback. Here’s a good one. Ahem.. “Green, good video, but everything seems a little off. All the extra editing is really headache inducing, and your friends seem distant. Can you please go back to real moments with your friends?”
Green: They’re just being negative to be negative.
Alan: They’re giving you advice and recommendations. I can tell, just by your attitude, that you avoid these on purpose, and that’s not a good thing to be doing.
Green: …
Alan: Not to mention, the only reason you’re doing YouTube is for the traction your videos bring in. That’s not what this job is about.
Green: Then what is it about, huh? How would you know?!
Alan: It’s about doing what you like. I would know, because I have 28 million subscribers.
Green: We- WHAT?! No you don’t! You’re lying!
*Nonchalantly, Alan pulls up his channel.*
Green: ALAN? WH- Why have you never brought this up before?!
Alan: Because I don’t feel the need to brag, which is apparently something you do a lot, according to your friends.
Green: But.. I don’t.. I’m..
Alan: Listen, Green. I get it. YouTube is exciting, don’t get me wrong, it can lead you to some pretty exciting places. But, when you start doing YouTube for the sake of fame, it loses its meaning.
A lot of YouTubers I’ve witnessed the growth of over the years have taken the route you’re going down right now. Exploiting their audiences and staff to produce cheap videos that get them views, likes, and money. That’s all this platform is to them. A way to get eyes on you. A lot of times? That leads to controversy, injury, and a terrible life.
I saw your earlier videos. They were good, Green! You put love into them. That’s the most important thing that your new videos lack. You’re trying to produce content that catches people’s attention, flashy meaningless junk that’s soulless. I would be a bad caretaker and fellow content creator if I just let you go down that route. So I have to tell you to take a step back.
In sorry for being harsh, but if I wasn’t, you wouldn’t listen. The thing is, the people that genuinely like the real content you put out will stay. The rest won’t, and that’s life. You just have to find those people.
Do you understand?
Green: I’m.. yeah. ..yeah. Thank you, Alan. And.. I’m sorry.
Alan: You’re alright. Now, go talk to your friends. I’m sure an apology is way overdue.
:3
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heybrownieboy · 2 days
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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: A MURDERER, A DEMON, AND AN ELEMENTAL?
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POV: 2nd Person. Y/N.
— Word Count: 2K+
Author’s Note: Finally an update :). In all honesty, I’ve been struggling with getting back into writing lately— after not having time nor mental energy to in so long— but, I’ve also have felt awful going M.I.A for over two months. So, while I was working on this, I decided to break up what I do have and give you all this little update. I wanted to reassure you all that I am NOT giving up on this SMAU. At all. I will be continuing and finishing it. But for now, I hope you enjoy this. I apologize for it being short but, I promise the next chapter is much longer (once I’m able to actually put this one damn scene into words 😭).
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“Do you honestly think this is a good idea?” 
You tore your eyes away from your TV—which was currently playing reruns of “Happiness”— and to the spirit siting on the couch next to you.
“What?” you asked. 
“Tonight,” Minho said. “Do you honestly think going to that shrine tonight is a good idea?” 
“Yes,” you said. 
“That caretaker is crazy, Y/N. Like completely batshit crazy."
“So I’ve heard,” you said.
“I mean it,” Minho said, exasperated. “I think he’s the one that actually killed Jisung and I.” 
Your eyes widened. “Wait what?” you asked. 
“I don’t remember a lot from that night,” he said. “Like at all. And I know you said spirits tend to forget more and more things the longer their earth bound.” 
You nodded at that. 
“But I remember some snippets of that night,” Minho said. “And I think he was there. I swear saw him for a spilt second. I was too shocked when I found…” He took a deep breath, an obvious expression of pain and grief crossing his face. “When I found Jisung’s body. So, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to my surroundings. I saw the caretaker run behind me from my peripheral vision. But, before I could react there was a rope wrapping around my throat.” 
“I thought you two were kidnapped?” you asked. 
“I think we were,” he said. “At least in a sense. Do you remember when Jeongin talked about that night he went to the mountain alone?” 
“He said he doesn’t remember the car ride there,” you said quietly.��
“Or half of his hike through the woods,” Minho finished. "Not until he heard Jisung. From what I remember, something similar happened to me.” 
“It was probably the demon controlling you,” you said. “They’re good at that. It’s like a semi-possession.” You rubbed your temples. “So I’m about to go spy on a murderer, a demon, and an elemental?”
“What do you think they’re doing up there?” Minho said.
“Honestly I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know anything. Everything for me with this whole thing has been guesses.” 
“Yet you’re still trying to help,” Minho said. 
“Of course I am,” you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I?” 
“Because it’s dangerous and you could get hurt,” he said. “Or even die.” 
You shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve almost died.” 
“Yeah,” Minho said slowly. “What’s with that huh? How are you alive and have been to hell?” 
You winced. “It was a long time ago,” you said. “And in all honestly I don’t really like talking about it much.”
“I get that,” Minho said. “And I won’t push you to talk about something you don’t want to. Hell was the worst thing I ever experienced in my life. I mean, yeah I guess it’s Hell but, I never expected it to be like…”  He grimaced at the memories.
“Yep,” you agreed, completely understanding of what he meant. 
“I thought it was just going to be super hot.” Minho let out a humorless chuckle. “I wasn’t exactly religious before all this so, I guess I never really read up on it.”
“You could say Dante wasn’t too far off,” you said. “And I do think it’s a little different for everyone.” 
“Yeah. Sometimes Jisung and I would see different things.” 
You squinted at the spirit. “Have you seen any other spirits lately?” 
Minho tilted his head at you. “No actually,” he said. “Now that I think about it. The only one I’ve seen all week is Jisung. Why?” 
“Fucking hell,” you grumbled. You leaned against the back of your couch, head thrown back and eyes staring up at the ceiling. “I’m starting to think that’s what these rituals are for. Because in my twenty years of life, I’ve never gone a day without seeing a least four or five spirits. I’ve only seen three others— besides you and Jisung— in the last week. That’s it. And it been over a week since I’ve seen a demon.” 
“That’s not a good thing?” 
“God, I wish it was. But, no it’s not.” 
“Fuck,” Minho breathed. “So, what should we do? I knew this was complicated and dangerous but this? This seems next level.” 
“I don’t know…” You threw up your hands exasperated. “I feel like that’s all I’ve been saying lately. ‘I don’t know’. It’s so fucking frustrating.” 
“Hey, hey, hey,” Minho said softly. “You’re trying. You’re helping us even if you don’t have to. And so far you’ve done an amazing job okay?”
You have him a half hearted smile. “Thank you,” you said.
“Is there maybe any kind of research you can do on this?” he offered. “I mean, there has to be some answers out there somewhere right?” 
“Maybe,” you said. “I only have like an half an hour before Jay and Nico pick me up though. And kind of search isn’t something I have easy access too. Not to mention it’s the supernatural. Nothing is finite. There’s thousands of rituals out there. And thousands more that aren’t recorded.” You nibbled on the inside of your cheek nervously.
“You grew up in a family of Shaman right?” Minho asked. “Can’t you ask like an elder or something for help?” 
You scrunched your nose at that. “I don’t talk to most of them anymore,” you said. “But, I do have someone I could call. My aunt should be able give me some kind of advice.” 
You leaned over to grab your cell phone off the coffee table. It should be around five P.M in London right now. You scrolled to your aunt’s contact and hit call. It only took a few rings for the line to be picked up
“Y/N-ah.” 
The sound of your Aunt Bora’s gentle voice on the other side of the line immediately had you relaxing. The tension that had building up all day seemed to almost completely melt away. 
“Hi,” you said softly. “How are you?” 
“I’m doing great, honey,” your aunt said. “But what about you? It’s almost one A.M in Korea right now. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” 
“I wish I could,” you said. “But I’ve been stressed out lately and couldn’t sleep.” 
“Stressed out about school?” Bora asked. “Because you shouldn’t be. I know studying to get your nursing degree can be challenging but you’re extremely intelligent, Y/N. You’ll make an amazing nurse in the future.” 
You smiled at that. “Thank you,” you said. You let out a soft sigh. “But that’ not the reason I called you. I need advice. On the supernatural.” 
“Oh? What do you mean? What’s happening?” 
“Do you remember those two men that went missing last year?” you asked.
“Yes,” Bora said. “Lily-ah and Natty-ah knew them through friends, correct? What were their names again?” 
“Lee Minho and Han Jisung,” you said. You glanced at Minho for a second. He was the one now leaned back into the couch watching you contently. 
“Didn’t you try to help find them last year?” your aunt asked.
“I did,” you confirmed. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t find a trace of them physically or spiritually.” 
“I’ve always found that strange. It’s almost like…” 
“Someone might have been hiding them.” 
“Exactly,” Bora said. “Did you finally find them?” 
“Kind of,” you said. “It’s more like they found me. Well, technically Jeongin found me.”
“Jeongin?” 
“Their friend. Um, how do I even explain?” 
“Start from the beginning yeah?” Bora said, her voice gentle. “Tell me everything you know.” 
And so you did. You explained how Jeongin originally had come to you or “Eris” for advice because he thought his friend was haunting him. How that turned out to be correct and that Minho was in fact trying to get through to him. You explained how you saw Minho and then had the premonition about Jisung. You explained their spiritual debt and how they were tricked by those three. How they had to escape hell and how half of their soul was stolen from them.
“So,” Bora said slowly, “you’re trying to help them break their spiritual debt and move on?” 
“Yes,” you said, with a slight wavier to your voice.
“But?” 
“But that’s not all. One of the trio he made a contract with was human. A living human. Minho is pretty sure that he’s the one that murdered them.” 
“Y/N,” your aunt said lowly. “You can’t confront a murder.” 
“Oh, I’m not done though.” 
There was a few beats of silence before your aunt asked, “What do you mean?”
“In the past week or so, I’ve seen three spirits and no demons,” you said. “Only one of those spirits talked to me. And all it did was ask for the time.” 
“Asked for the time? Spirits never ask for the time. Unless…” 
“Unless they’re being summoned somewhere,” you said. “I think they’re all being summoned to that mount Minho and Jisung went missing on. By the human.” 
“You think he’s summoning them all there for something bigger,” Bora said. 
“Exactly,” you said. “He’s been preforming rituals for about two weeks. At least that we know of. “
“He’s most likely a Shaman. A very powerful one. Rituals like that? They aren’t easy. At all.” 
“I know,” you said.
“And I’m guessing there’s more,” Bora said with a soft sigh. 
“The other two being they made this contract with are supernatural. One is a demon. But the other one, neither Minho or Jisung knew what it was. They said it was different from the demon.” 
“Don’t tell me…” 
“I’m pretty sure it’s an elemental, yeah.” 
“Y/N,” your aunt said voice now taking on a firm, cold edge. “You need to stay away from elementals. They can and will kill you if you ever get in their way. Forget the murderous shaman. Elementals are not bound to the same rules as demons. Not to mention they hate humans more than demons ever have.” 
“I know,” you said. “I do but…” You took a deep breath. “I cannot not help. There’s something seriously wrong.” 
“It doesn’t matter. This is your lif—“ 
“They have wards to keep away angels,” you said cutting your aunt off. 
“What?” she asked, utter disbelief overtaking her tone.
“Minho said that the mountain is littered in wards keeping angels out,” you said. “Namely Azrael.” 
“That’s impossible.” 
“You would think. At first he thought it was just the hellhounds being kept out. They got too close to the mountain and they were repelled, But he said that Azrael has not been able to get onto the mountain at all either. That the barrier the wards created repelled him as well.” 
The other line went silent. After a few moments you began to worry that the call had disconnected. 
“Hel—“ 
“I don’t like this Y/N,” your aunt said quietly. “At all. I understand Azrael is probably the last angel you want to see since… since all of that happened. But he’s still an angel. He’s still a protector. If you go on that mountain, you have absolutely no protection. Not against the Shaman nor the elemental.”
“I realize that,” you said. “And I completely understand that. But like I said. There’s something seriously wrong happening. I think Minho and Jisung were apart of whatever plan they have going on. Not to mention they’ve been talking about Jeongin. Another human life they most likely want to take. They’ve been planning this for at least a year now, Aunt Bora. Whatever it is, it’s huge. God know how many people will eventually be dragged into this."
Your aunt let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. I know there’s no way to talk you out of this.” Another sigh left her lips. “ Let me think for a few minutes. Maybe I can help.” 
You smiled. “Thank you,” you said. “So much.” 
Your aunt simply hummed. After a few minutes she began speaking again. “How were those to boys killed? Do you know? I might be able to narrow down what ritual they’re trying to get ready up for.” 
“They were strangled,” you said. You peered at Minho for a second, your eyes focusing on the wound around his neck.. “Well, honestly it looks like the rope cut into their throats. They both have these huge infected gashes.” 
“Infected?” Bora asked. 
You copied her hum from a few moments ago. “Yeah.”
“Y/N, if they were dead, how could their wounds be infected?” 
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Of Chaos And Spirits Masterlist
Taglist (Open): @lily-loves-kpop @f9clementine @bookswillfindyouaway @lilyuwon @kpopjackie @i-dont-know-me-either @tirena1 @velvetmoonlght @whiteghostt @iambangchanswife @mehli-00 @chantalkkate16 @briar-rose23 @fic-for-readers @to-toad @fr34k4c1dr41n @jiryunie
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©️heybrownieboy 2024
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wc-confessions · 14 hours
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I’ll do a full breakdown of why the news surrounding the Tencent animation disappoints me.
Disclaimer: while you can have criticisms about Tencent as they seem to be a controversial company, don’t use it as an excuse to be sinophobic. If your thoughts ever go to “well of course a Chinese production would suck” or something of that ilk, please stop right there. The main issues are corporate greed and laziness, not China. Got it? Time to carry on.
Firstly, it strikes me as more of a proof of concept than an actual announcement. It’s the most minor problem IMO, so I’ll let them off the hook. They probably wanted to make sure people knew it was being worked on.
Secondly, AI. Warrior Cats is an art-centric community; it’s no wonder fans are pissed. I don’t like AI art, you - a (probable) Warriors fan reading this - likely don’t like AI art, your father doesn’t like AI art, everyone here doesn’t like AI art. Which means I’m going to argue on a more technical side. Looking at the confirmed and possible AI art, I have a question. What do they achieve? They don’t fit with the style of the hand-drawn illustrations, they resemble galaxy cats in space, while that Yellowfang generation is just a bootleg of the reprinted Rising Storm cover. Their existence in the presentation is a waste of time and resources (literally, AI prompts use up absurd amounts of water). I’d rather them show exclusively human art because you can tell they’re going in a direction, even if it’s uninteresting.
Speaking of the presumably human art, oh boy. To start off mildly positive, I’ll say a majority of the illustrations are decent. You get some character designs and scene concepts. They’re clearly playing with art style. I don’t find them particularly ugly, so… good job! I suppose! Now, to address the elephant in the room: anthro cats. For the love of StarClan, I’m begging on my knees, don’t make these cats anthro in the final product. It would fundamentally break the entire series. They call humans “twolegs” for a reason! Go work on the Redwall movie if you want anthro animals.
Finally, my last concern. As of writing, there hasn’t been confirmation of the Tencent animation being a movie, TV show, or other. My opinion on a TV show is “it’s fine.” Warrior Cats is a long series, making it suitable that it gets a longer adaptation. Meanwhile, my hope for a Warriors movie is as big as a single grain of sand. 
Warrior Cats is borderline unadaptable when it comes to shorter-form media unless you want to dish out a pretty penny. We can already see this with the Prophecies Begin graphic novel; it’s transparent HarperCollins or whoever is in charge of these things didn’t want to pay for six TPB comics, so they had to hastily mash two books together in one. If the Tencent animation is a movie, I’m afraid some concepts already have signs of this. Multiple pieces have what can be assumed to be Fireheart and Tigerclaw fighting. I’m sorry, but that happens later in the books. Are they going to scramble the narrative worse than the graphic novel adaptation? Are we seriously going to wait 20+ years for an official animation, watch at least one high-profile fan project get canned, only for it to be about as accurate as evil snipers in an action movie? If it’s not a movie, ignore what I’ve said. If it is a movie, sigh.
TL;DR: Should’ve made the Little Dragon Studios series official instead of forcing them to cancel, guys.
.
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Sprinkles Of Romance
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PAIRING || CBF!Young!Tony Stark x CBF!Fem!Reader
WORDCOUNT || 6.8K
SUMMARY || When your dream of opening your coffee shop becomes a reality, you get a lot more than you bargained for. Not only do you get to fall in love with the shop, you also get to fall deeper in love with your best friend.
RATING || Teen (T)
TAGS || Bakery AU. Coffee Shop AU. Childhood Best Friends to Lovers. Mutual pining. Idiots in love.
A/N || SURPRISE! - I wanted to gift you all a special story, and I'm excited to share this story with you all after three weeks of no stories! From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for proofreading and picking this idea for me to write! It has given me the most warm, autumnal, and happy vibes during the writing, and I hope it will give you all a bit of the warmth I enjoy during this time of year! 🤍
A/N 2.0 || This is written for @elixirfromthestars's writing challenge! The prompts used in this story are Coffeeshop AU - Bakery AU - Saying I love you for the first time - “Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.” - “I’m only doing it because you’re cute.” - “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” - “I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.” - “And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone's bed. You put me on and said I was your favorite.”
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All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin
Main Masterlist || Tony Stark
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Ever since you were a child, you and Tony were practically inseparable – or, as your mother would say, you two are glued at the hip. Wherever one of you went, the other came along, and this has always stayed the same throughout your life. Tony, Howard, and Maria moved into the house next to yours when you two were still babies, and from the moment you could walk and talk, you and Tony were constantly by each other's sides, getting into all sorts of trouble and going on different kinds of adventures, too.
Throughout it all, you two have also developed deeper, romantic feelings for each other, though neither of you has ever confessed to it to the other. Even though you're both well aware that your friends and family will always support your friendship, relationship, and shared dreams, it is still a hurdle you're unsure how to cross, as neither of you wants to lose the other.
Since you and Tony graduated from business school a few months ago – both getting a degree in how to run a business – you've been on a well-deserved vacation to Italy with all four parents. Still, now that it is over, it's time for you and Tony to return to the real world and hopefully see one of your dreams come true sooner rather than later.
Outside, the weather is turning chillier by the day, and autumn has fully settled over the small town you and Tony call home. The leaves outside are changing colors, and the decoration in your shared apartment has also had a make-over to an autumnal theme, adding to the atmosphere as the smell of freshly baked gingerbread cookies fills the air. While your best friend takes his time to put another batch of said cookies in the oven, the other ones are cooling on the counter, and you are in the middle of getting dressed after a shower.
In front of you is a life-size mirror, and you're checking yourself out from all angles as something about your outfit feels off. You're dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans, black boots, a black tank top, and one of your red flannels – a perfect outfit for the weather outside – but it's missing something. Then, as you walk back to your closet for the third time, it finally hits you. As the idea settles in your brain, you take off the flannel with a growing smirk before your feet pad over the hardwood floors of your apartment.
"Hi, Sprinkle," Tony says as he turns to greet you; the butterflies in your stomach are going wild as they always do when you're met with the sight of your tall, broad best friend. As you make your way up to him, he can't help but let out a shy smile, giving him an adorably sweet expression as you crane your neck to meet his gaze. Tony is a good few inches taller than you – you barely reach shoulder height when you're both standing barefoot next to one another – and it's something that has been a part of many of his fantasies about you, though he wouldn't dare to admit that to anyone.
"Can I ask you something?" you say softly. Even though Tony would never say no to you, you still put on your sweetest, most innocent voice to convince him either way. He hums as his gaze wanders over your soft features, the flushed skin from the shower you took earlier still there.
"Would it be alright if I borrow your sweater?"
It's a straightforward question, and Tony can't help but chuckle as he shakes his head slightly. Most of the sweaters he owns are already in your closet, and you could have picked any of those, but you still proceeded to ask for the one he's wearing. If he weren't already madly in love with you, he would be head over heels now, the butterflies in his stomach going wild as he steps closer to you.
"Hmm, I don't know. Why would you need to borrow the one I'm currently wearing when you have so many others already in your closet, ready to be worn?" he asks as he gently caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, his voice dropping lower while his breath ghosts past your cheek as he leans in a bit.
"Uhm… b-because it smells like y-you," you stammer, and Tony shows a satisfied smirk before humming again, letting you know he heard your answer.
"Alright, my sweet Sprinkle. You can have my sweater, but I'm only doing it because you're cute," he tells you with a smile; the heat you were feeling on your cheeks earlier is now soaring through your entire body as he steps back and removes his sweater. Tony's shirt rises a little as he does, giving you a glimpse of his toned abdomen and the little trail of black hair leading into his pants.
The sight before you leaves you nothing short of breathless, and your heart threatens to pound out of your chest as nothing but pure desire courses through your veins. You've seen him shirtless more times than you could count, but seeing him like this will always be some of the happiest parts of your fantasies about him.
"Sprinkle?" Tony says again, and you snap out of your daydream as you realize he's holding out his sweater for you to wear. As you take it, your fingers brush over his, sending a jolt of electricity through your bodies, letting you know you two are even more connected than you thought possible.
"Thank you," you respond before pulling the oversized sweater over your head. The soft and warm fabric feels like you're getting a hug from Tony. His scent envelops you entirely as you curl into the sweater, the sleeves falling over your hands as they fall into place. The entire time, Tony can't help but admire how his sweater looks on your frame and how perfect you look when wearing his clothes.
Then, the little bell from the oven pulls you both from your thoughts as the next batch of cookies is done, and a pang of disappointment surges through your body for a moment. The moment was perfect, but now it's over, and you must return to reality again.
"Can I bring you back anything from the store?" you ask Tony after you've gathered your purse, keys, and phone, ready to head out and get some more snacks for the movie night hosted at your apartment later tonight.
"A few more bags of chocolate chips, please. Oh, and some peanut butter M&M's!" he says excitedly, and you nod before saying your goodbyes and heading out the door. After putting on your headphones, you head to the store, which is only a 10-minute walk from the apartment. As you look around you, coziness and warmth envelop you, as autumn has always been your favorite time.
The scent of freshly fallen rain hangs in the air as you take your time; your pace slows as you enjoy your surroundings, but something catches your eye. Across the street, there's a large sign saying the store is for rent, and you can't help but go over, wanting to get a closer look. Right next door to the empty store is your favorite bookshop, and on the other side is a small restaurant, which fills the air with the rich smells coming out of its kitchen.
As you look inside, you have a perfect view of the store, which is illuminated by the golden rays of the sun coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It's a large space that allows for many possibilities, but the first that comes to mind is one that you and Tony have been dreaming of for years: a bakery with a coffee shop section built in.
Your fantasies come to life before your eyes as you imagine yourself behind the counter, making coffee while your best friend is working on the most delicious pastries that will fill the display with lots of colors. The smells fill the store as soft music plays, and laughter and conversations can be heard. Outside, people can enjoy the sun in the seating area and come in to see what you have to offer.
As you stand there, thinking about all the possibilities, you've completely forgotten about going to the grocery store, as all you can think about now is calling Tony and telling him your thoughts. Between the moment you grab your phone and the moment Tony answers your FaceTime call, barely 5 seconds pass before you're met with his beautiful smile, and a warmth spreads through your chest at the sight.
"Miss me already, Sprinkle?" Tony quips as he answers, making you laugh heartily.
"You know I always miss you when I'm not with you, Tony, but that's not why I'm calling! I was hoping to get your opinions and thoughts on something, as I may have found a way to make one of our dreams come true!" your voice rises about an octave from pure excitement. Before you know it, Tony is on his way to where you're standing, barely five minutes from your apartment.
Within minutes, you see the handsome features of your best friend as he walks closer, and a flurry of butterflies goes wild in your stomach at the sight. His casual style – jeans, sneakers, and a leather jacket thrown over a henley he put on after you took his sweater – is something you've fallen in love with over the years, and it compliments his messy hair and facial hair, making his entire look a combination to die for.
"Hi, Sprinkle," Tony says as he pulls you in for a hug. You can't help but sigh as your cheek is pressed against the firmness of his chest. You can never get enough of his hugs, and you hold on for a little longer than you would with anyone else.
"What's the sigh for?" Tony asks when pulling away, and you feel a burning heat in your cheeks at his question, your gaze avoiding his as you look at the pavement.
"I- Well…" you start as you wring your hands together, "I like hearing your heart beating when I put your head on my chest; it's calming to me," you confess. In any other situation, you would never admit something so personal, but with Tony, it feels right to do it, and you two never have secrets for one another – apart from your romantic feelings.
"You're too sweet, Sprinkle," Tony says with a deep red blush on his cheeks, his hands buried deep in his pockets before he does something stupid. He wants nothing more than to hold your hand or kiss you, but for now, he'll settle for what he can get from you, even if his desire tells him something different. He doesn't want to lose you by doing something stupid, as you're keeping him sane in this lifetime.
"So… what did you want to show me?" Tony then asks, curiosity ultimately getting the best of him now. A broad smile lights up your face as you turn around with spread arms, gesturing towards the store you've been standing in front of the entire time. A large sign telling you that it's for rent is sitting a little to the left of where you're standing, and that's when the coin drops for your best friend.
"You—you want to open a store here?" Tony asks, disbelief shining through in his voice. Not because he's against it in any way—it's been his dream for years already—but because you're not usually the type of person to bring up ideas like this.
"Well, I'd like to have a good look inside first, but from what I can see, I think it's the perfect place to open our bakery and coffee shop! We're right next to the bookstore, which is perfect for when people buy books and read them with some coffee and a treat," you tell him, and he nods in agreement. The placement is excellent, and within 20 minutes of calling the number printed on the large sign, there's a showing scheduled.
"I can't believe we're finally making the first steps to make our dreams come true," you tell Tony as you're still standing in front of the empty store, your hand in his as you squeeze it excitedly. He grabbed it during the phone call to ground himself, and neither of you has let go yet – it feels too good to let the other person go just yet.
That night, when you have your friends Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner over for movie night, you can't stop telling them all about your plans, and when you've explained it all to them, you can't stop smiling. The idea of opening a store with Tony has been on your mind for years, and now that it's closer than ever, it's like your entire life is going into a whirlwind of emotions in the best way possible.
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It's been a week since Tony made the appointment for a showing inside the store, and you're having breakfast at the dining room table together. While Tony is dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, you're wearing your favorite Iron Man pajamas because they're warm and fluffy, perfect for the cooler weather outside.
"How're you feeling about today?" Tony asks between bites of his cereal, and you take a few moments to think about it before answering him.
"Nervous, but excited, too. We've wanted this for so long, and now that it might finally be happening, I can tell that there are a lot of nerves settling in my body," you tell him honestly, and he nods in agreement.
"Me too," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours as you stretch out your hand. His fingers intertwine with yours as he looks at you, a warm smile gracing his stunning features. His facial hair has become a bit more of a beard now, which suits him and only intensifies your feelings for him.
"We're going to be okay, though. We've always done everything together, and this won't be any different," he says, and you nod. Wherever one of you goes, the other will always come along, and it will be that way until the day you die. Then, as you're about to say something, Tony's phone suddenly grabs your attention as he's receiving a call. As soon as he sees who's calling, he turns the screen to you, showing you it's Maria.
“Buongiorno mamma, come stai?”
Each time Tony speaks Italian, you can feel your insides going crazy, as it drives you wild in the best way possible. While you've been attempting to learn Italian over the years, wanting to surprise Tony, something always came along that got your attention instead, so you could never practice enough without letting him know about your plans. While he would be the best teacher, if you want to surprise him one day, you'll have to find a different way.
"We're good; I was just talking to Sprinkle about the showing," he says, and you smile as he mentions you to Maria.
"It's this afternoon, but I'll update you and Dad, okay? I'll tell her you said hi, and I love you, too. Ciao," he says before hanging up, returning his attention to you.
"Mom said hi, and she asked when the showing was even though I told her three times already," he tells you with a chuckle. While Maria is one of the sweetest women you've ever met, she's sometimes not the best at remembering things.
"It's lovely of her to call. I always love how well you and she get along," you tell Tony, and he can't help but blush profusely at your words. He's always been a mama's boy, and he's aware of this fact, but when it's pointed out, he still can't help but turn red – though at the same time, he also loves it because he's very proud of the bond he and Maria share.
Shortly after breakfast, you and Tony are ready to head to the showing, which goes on without a hitch. You meet your landlord – a cheerful man with an Australian accent who introduced himself as Thor Odinson, and before you know it, you're in love with the space. Inside, there's a lot of potential for seating; during the summer, the seating area can be extended onto the sidewalk, too. There's a large counter that can be used as the place where you make coffee and display the pastries. In the back, there's an extensive stockroom and a large kitchen that will be turned into a workspace for Tony, as he will do most of the baking once the shop opens.
"So, what do you think?" Tony asks as you're standing in the stockroom together - Thor has left the two of you alone for a moment after excusing himself to pick up a phone call.
"I think we should go for it. The place has a lot of potential, as you saw, and I think Thor is also very nice," you tell him, and Tony nods. You two are lucky to have a landlord like him if you rent the shop, as he seems to be a hardworking, honest guy who's also in for a joke now and again.
"I agree, Sprinkle. Let's make our dreams come true," Tony answers softly before pulling you in for a hug. The way his arms wrap around you so effortlessly has your heart beating like crazy, your insides feeling like they're on fire as you settle in your best friend's arms. You're about to take the most significant step of your life, and you're happy that you get to do it with Tony.
Within 30 minutes, you, Tony, and Thor go over all the essential details for the lease, and then it's time to sign. Your gaze is trained on Tony as he gets ready to sign, but not without one last look of reassurance. It will all be okay, as you will do it together. There's never one without the other, and it won't be any different during the project of your dreams. When both your signatures are on the lease, Thor thanks you both with a firm handshake, wishing you good luck before he must go to another appointment.
You're holding the keys to your shop and a black, gold, and dark green business card that reads 'Loki Laufeyson | Interior Designer' on it. He comes highly recommended by Thor – though he also said that even though Loki is his brother, he's not just recommending him because of their bond. He's genuinely good at his job, and you don't have a reason to doubt his words.
It's official: you will open your own bakery and coffee shop with your best friend –the man you love. Your dream will come true in a few months, and before you know it, another one of yours will also come true, bringing a lot of joy to your soon-to-be busy lives.
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The past few weeks have been busy, exhausting, and rewarding all at once because even though you and Tony spend almost every single one of your waking hours in the shop to make it nothing short of perfect, it's also going to be an experience you only get to live through for the first time once. You're trying to soak up every second of it. Luckily, you also have help on most days from Loki, who spends his time overseeing the project from an interior designer's perspective, and your friends and family; they all help lighten the load a bit for you both.
Today, Bruce and Natasha have been helping for most of the day, and they have just gone home, leaving you and Tony to finish up for the night. You're sitting on the floor in the middle of the shop, dust, tools, and tarp everywhere, together with a few Chinese take-out boxes around the two of you, when you suddenly hear a noise you can't quite place.
"Do you hear that?" you ask, and without waiting for an answer, you get up, your feet taking you to the source of the noise. On closer investigation, you can hear a soft meow from the back of your shop, where the backdoor is open to let the paint smell evaporate.
"Tony?" you say softly, not wanting to scare the little creature away, as they've most likely been looking for a place to stay warm. The weather outside has taken a drastic turn the past few days, with more rain than you've seen in a long time, and temperature drops to below 50 degrees Fahrenheit regularly. Within seconds of your calling for him, you hear your best friend's footsteps and raise your hand to alert him, as you don't want to scare away the little being in your shop.
"Is that- "
"A cat? Yeah. I think he's looking for a place to stay warm," you say as you bend down to greet the small cat; he won't be much older than a year at most. He's very fluffy, even though he has just come from the rain, and his brown and white fur perfectly complements his piercing blue eyes. He's the most beautiful cat you've ever had the honor of meeting, and you've met a lot in your years on this earth. As you stretch your hand, Tony sits beside you on the floor, and the cat seems courageous and friendly enough to come and say hi.
"He's so cute, Tony; I can't believe the cat distribution system brought us this little guy," you say with a broad smile, making your best friend smile in return. Right now, Tony considers himself to be the luckiest man in the entire universe to share this moment with you – seeing you falling in love with the little furball in your store has him falling in love with you all over again, even though he's afraid to admit it to anyone but himself.
From that night on, that same cat has frequented your shop almost every night, and you've started to bring in some food for him so he has a place to stay warm and get something in his belly, too. Now, he happens to be sleeping on the large windowsill in the front of the store when Loki is paying another visit, and he has immediately pulled all the attention from your interior designer to himself.
"Look at this; who's this little guy?" Loki asks as he bends down to pet him. It's a bit of a funny sight, the man in a sharp black and dark green suit kneeling on the dusty floor to pet the cat that has been stopping by your shop almost daily.
"He wandered into our shop a week or two ago and visited us nearly every night. We have been calling him 'Coffee Bean,' and so far, he seems to enjoy it," you tell Loki while sweeping the shop floor. Tony is in the stockroom, installing some shelving while you've been busy in the front.
"Coffee Bean, huh? That's adorable," Loki says, and you can't help but smile at how he pronounces the name in his British accent. If Thor hadn't told you that his family adopted Loki as a baby, you would never have guessed the two were related, but their dynamic is fantastic. They've often been at the shop together and share a special bond that shines through in their work.
"Have you brought him to a vet to see if he's chipped?" Loki then asks, but you shake your head – usually, when Coffee Bean is visiting the store, it's either too late or you're too busy to have time to go, so you've been putting it off, though you also know deep down it's the right thing to do.
"I have a good friend who's a vet. His name is Bucky, and he's amazing with cats – even has one of his own," Loki tells you with a smile as he gets up before grabbing a business card from his shoulder bag. It says "James Barnes | Veterinarian," with a phone number and the opening hours of his clinic, which is very helpful.
"I thought you said his name is Bucky?" you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.
"You're right, I did say that. His full name is James Buchanan Barnes, but he tends to go by Bucky," Loki explains with a gentle smile before reorganizing his bag and getting ready to head out the door and to his next appointment. Once he's out the door, it's just you, Tony, and Coffee Bean, though what you don't know yet is that there's going to be a surprise guest swinging by later, even though their timing could have been better.
You and Tony have changed into coveralls to protect your clothes, as the time to start painting has finally arrived. It's been a task you have been looking forward to the most, and as Tony is mixing the color—a beautiful maroon—you're getting all the supplies, like brushes and rollers, ready. Then, as you turn around, something unexpected happens, and you're met with a splash of paint all over your body and the deep laugh of your best friend. When it finally sunk in what happened after a few seconds, a broad grin spreads on your features, and you bend down to grab a brush of your own.
"You're going to get it now, Stark!" you say before dipping the brush in the paint and splattering him with it, but you would soon come to regret that, as he's now following you with paint smeared all over his hands. It doesn't take long for him to catch you, pulling you against his body until you're so close that you can feel his breath on your lips. Your heart goes a mile a minute as you try to catch your breath, but it seems nearly impossible with him being so close.
And then, it's as if the world stops for a moment. There's nothing but you and Tony, your breaths mingling, and your closeness. But then, against all odds, you feel his hand cupping your cheek, the wet paint leaving a large handprint, though neither of you cares. Tony leans in first, your eyes slipping shut as he does. And then, when your lips barely ghost over one another, you hear an excited squeal, and you jump back as the thought of an intruder shoots through your mind.
Both you and Tony jump apart with heated cheeks, looking where the sound came from. Much to your surprise, you're met with the sight of Maria standing in the doorway to the shop – she has entered through the backdoor because she brought some décor to go on the walls once the paint was dry. Still, when she saw little Coffee Bean sleeping peacefully in the sun, she squealed from excitement, disturbing your almost-kiss with the man you've been in love with for as long as you can remember.
As you both face Maria, Tony's hand gently wraps around your forearm, letting you know he's close and everything will be okay.
"What were you two piccioncini up to before I came here?" Maria then asked, and Tony's cheeks turned the brightest red they'd ever been as he heard her calling you two 'lovebirds' in Italian. As soon as she saw the splatter of paint, the handprint on your cheek where Tony cupped it ever so gently, and how you two jumped apart at her arrival, she knew exactly what was happening, though she couldn't help but tease her son about it. She's seen her son fall in love with you over the years, and she's beyond ecstatic that he finally made a move, even if she interrupted it. Progress is progress.
"Oh, well- You know, painting," Tony says softly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze is trained on the floor.
"Hm, maybe you should start painting the walls instead of one another, don't you think?" Maria quips with a wink, and then you remember the handprint on your face. It's been here the entire time they were talking, and now it's your turn to have cheeks that are practically on fire. Without excusing yourself, you rush to the bathroom – thankfully, you already have running water. As you're cleaning yourself up, Tony and Maria take the time to converse one-on-one.
"When will you tell her how you feel about her, Angioletto? She deserves to know how you feel, and based on what I saw before I interrupted you two, she feels the same about you. That woman has been head over heels in love with you for as long as I can remember," Maria says as she rests her hand on her son's shoulder. Even though she's wearing heels, she still has to crane her neck to look at him directly – it's safe to say he got his height from Howard.
"I don't know how, Mamma; I haven't found the right time. Honestly, I've forbid myself from falling in love, but I can't help it. She's such a sweet, caring, and kind woman, and she also has a smile to die for. I've never felt like this before, but at the same time, I'm also scared about what might happen if I confess- I don't want to lose her, Mamma," Tony says, tears brimming at his waterline at the thought of possibly losing you.
"Anthony, there's not a single universe where she'd leave you. You two have been through so much and are destined to be together. The universe has been waiting this long for you two to get together, which tells me it is meant to be. I can tell that Y/N has so much love for you, and you have so much love for her. Please, tell her how you feel because, honestly, if you're waiting for the right time, you'll wait for the rest of your lives and regret never telling her."
While Maria tells Tony all this, you can't help but overhear, and your heart is on fire at the words your best friend's mom has shared. She's also right because you have so much love for him, but you were afraid he wouldn't feel the same about you. Even though the paint is now washed off your face, the feeling of his warm, soft skin against your cheek is something you'll never forget, and the thought of it makes you smile again.
"You're right, Mamma, thank you," Tony says before leaning down and kissing her on the cheek, giving her a radiant smile as he does. Then, you walk back into the shop, acting like you didn't just hear their conversation.
"Hi, Maria," you say before hugging her, and she greets you as well before finally moving over to great Coffee Bean, who has now woken up. Coffee Bean purrs loudly under Maria's touch, and she can't help but feel proud – of Tony, you, and the cat slowly becoming part of your shop, too.
When her back is turned to the two of you, you dare to look at Tony, the memory of your mouths being so close you were breathing the same air still fresh in your memory. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, because the opening date of your shop is slowly creeping closer, and you still need to get a lot done, painting being the first thing.
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The past year practically flew by for you and Tony. From the moment you signed the lease to the point you're about to open your shop for everyone to enjoy officially, it still feels like a blur, but you're incredibly excited. The road to get here hasn't been entirely without challenges, but you've managed to overcome every hardship with the help of your friends and family, all of whom are here today to support you.
A few days ago, your friend and artist Steve Rogers was busy making seasonal paintings on the window that perfectly fit the autumn theme. Pumpkins, leaves, pastries, and coffee are all painted beautifully in orange and brown tones, but the cherry on top is that he incorporated Coffee Beans into the art, too. He's sitting in the middle of the window with leaves falling all around him, making him the focal point of it, and he's meant to draw in as many customers as possible.
Today, you and Tony have been making the last arrangements – checking to see if all the coffee machines work, baking many pastries and desserts, creating different sandwiches, and rearranging the furniture until everything is perfect. It's time for the official grand opening in a little over an hour, so you and Tony have returned to your apartment to get changed, and the nerves are starting to set in for you both.
While you've opted for a sweater dress paired with black boots, Tony has chosen a business casual outfit that goes perfectly with your dress. You two look like the perfect pair – and after tonight, you will be the people everyone longs to be. Once back at the shop, you can already see a small line of people outside the door – you are running a special that the first 25 people will get free coffee and a pastry or dessert of their choice, and it seems it will work so far.
In the store, Wanda and Natasha are happily chatting behind the counter as they prepare for the upcoming crowd. Over the past few weeks, they have spent a lot of time here, getting to know each other and helping you and Tony out wherever necessary, and today is the first time they will officially run the front of the shop.
Howard, Maria, and your parents also chat in one of the booths Loki suggested you get. Thor, Bruce, and Tony have placed them perfectly, allowing customers to enjoy the sun as they sit by the windows. Finally, Coffee Bean is sleeping on one of the windowsills again, enjoying the sun like he has since the first day he set foot in your shop.
"Sprinkle, can I talk to you for a moment?" Tony asks, his heart beating so fast it's a miracle you can't hear it. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly as he looks at you, worry settling in your stomach. You nod before following your best friend into the stock room, where you have some privacy between the coffee beans and other stock. He grabs your hands, encasing them with his large ones as he looks into your eyes with his dark brown ones.
"I- uhm… I've been thinking about something for a long time now, and I have never found a moment more perfect to say it – until now. One of our dreams is about to come true today, but I want to make it two. I've been madly in love with you for the past few years, Y/N. There's nothing more I want to do than kiss you and show you the way an amazing woman such as yourself deserves to be treated. But most of all, I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine for as long as you'll have me," he tells you, and it's like all the air is taken from your chest.
Tony lets go of one of your hands, instead tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he continues, "I want to feel your lips on mine, and I need to know what they taste like because the thought of them has been driving me damn near mad for years. Please, please let me kiss you, my sweet Sprinkle," he whispers the last few words until they're almost inaudible, but you hear them crystal clear.
"Okay," you whisper back, and with a large smile, Tony leans to capture your lips with his. Your lips are soft against his own, and the subtle vanilla flavor of your chapstick has suddenly become the favorite he'd ever had the honor to taste. Your hands pull Tony even closer, and with the softest of groans, he parts his lips to allow you to explore his mouth. For a moment, there's nothing but you and Tony as time has stopped, and your entire body is on fire as you take your time together.
Then, you pull away to the feeling like heaven is shining down on you. Even though you're left breathless, it's also the best feeling in the world, as you've finally had the chance to kiss the man you've fantasized about for years. Your mouth splits into a grin, your features lighting up the way Tony loves so much, and he can't help but smile right back at you.
"I'm in love with you too, Tony, and I've seen how you look at me when you think I don't notice. The way you steal glances when I'm reading on the couch or when we're walking through the town. Or when you can't take your eyes off me whenever I'm cooking or baking," you add, making him chuckle in response.
"But there's something else I need you to know, Tony. When I felt like an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite. You always make me feel special and loved; it feels like home with you. You're my home, Tony, and for that, I will love you most of all," you tell him, tears brimming in your eyes as you do. Whenever you feel like you aren't worthy of love, Tony has proven you wrong and shown you what it's like to be so loved that you're practically overflowing with it.
"I love you, Sprinkle. I always have, and I always will," Tony then says before capturing your lips one last time, as it's officially time to start the next chapter of your lives by opening your shop, which you named 'Coffee Bean Café,' after the cat that had nestled his way into your hearts when you started renting the shop. After one last peck on the lips, you and Tony go out of the stockroom, but not without interlacing your fingers first, which doesn't go unnoticed by Natasha.
As you walk by together, she winks at you to let you know she's proud of you, and you can't stop smiling as your cheeks heat up under her gaze. You don't get to think about it too long because it's time to open your shop. After Tony gives a heartfelt speech, followed by you, you officially open the doors for the public, and Natasha and Wanda get to serve all the customers.
"How're you feeling, Sprinkle?" Tony asks when you two finally have a moment to yourselves, and you're almost melting under the sweetness of his gaze. Now that you two have admitted your love for one another, it's impossible not to want to be close to him.
"Excited, but tired at the same time. I'm happy we finally opened our shop, but right now, I mostly want some sleep," you say, and your body emphasizes the point by yawning, making Tony chuckle.
"Me too, but I promise I'll make it up to you tonight with some cuddles on the couch; how does that sound?"
"Like I want to sneak out and get my cuddles now," you tell him honestly, and Tony can't help but laugh at your comment, making some heads turn in your direction. Neither of you notices, though, as you two only have eyes for one another.
"I love you, Sprinkle, and I can't wait to see where this journey will take us." Your boyfriend leans in to capture your lips in the softest, most loving way, showing your love for the coffee shop. Behind you, there's some applause and loud cheering, making you both smile into the kiss. This has been long overdue, but now you plan on making up for every second you missed.
While you and Tony share a lovely kiss, Natasha and Maria look on with huge smiles. Then, Natasha holds out her hand, as the two of them had a bet going about when you two would finally confess.
"I told you they would confess today," she says with an even bigger smile, and Maria fishes a 10 dollar bill out of her pocket, handing it to her as she nods her head in agreement.
Out of all the beautiful things that have come out of the opening of your shop, the friendship between Maria and Natasha is one of the most unexpected, but what's most important is their shared love for you and Tony, as both of them wouldn't want anything other than happiness for the two of you.
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Im gonna join the Morgie Male reader fans and also request something xD
Please consider writing a story where Male reader and Morgie are dating but Morgie is just always talking about Uliana and constantly trying to impress her etc and Reader feels unvalued and like Morgie is actually in love with uliana and not him so drama i guess
I like hurting myself as you can guess 🙂
-emil
Let’s not enjoy that!!!! But no I love some good angst; I’ve got you. You’re always welcome in my inbox sugar 💛
Second Place
Morgie le Fay x Reader
Pronouns used: he/him/his
Summary: just once he wants to feel like he’s not his boyfriend’s second choice
Warnings: angst, underage drinking (depending on where you are ig), Morgie isn't purposely a bad boyfriend he's just stupid. Pet names, Bestie Hades and Hook because the boys gotta stick together
Word Count: 2.3K
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    His fingertips brush over different silks and starched cottons as he follows his boyfriend around the store, barely paying attention to dress shirts around him. How could he? How could the boy ever focus on the task at hand when all it did was ground his insecurities into his bones? Morgie is taking the lead as he walks through the store, occasionally lifting different button ups to feel them. Ones that seem to pique his interest led to him holding them against his chest, raising a brow to his boyfriend to silently ask his opinion. And (Y/n) does his best to respond, though it comes out more as hums and silent nods than true responses. His heart isn’t in this, he can’t focus on something like this. It is so incredibly obvious that he doesn’t want to be here, and maybe if Morgie would actually look at him instead of through him, the boy might notice. He won’t though, lord knows the sorcerer doesn’t have the time to care. Not when his task at hand is so dire. Uliana’s birthday party is only a week away, how could he think about anything but making sure it’s perfect?
   Obviously Morgie can’t look a mess, he just has to be in something new. And the gift has to just be perfect, he has to outshine everyone. Of course he does, he always does. Uliana was the sun in his solar system, and (Y/n) was barely even the tides that the moon was occupied with pulling. How could Morgie ever remember to pull the tides when he was so busy reflecting the light of the sun? How could he dare to wear something the sea witch has seen already when her eighteenth birthday was such a big deal? “Babe, you are being extremely unhelpful right now,” Morgie grumbles the words as he’s putting an honestly kind of atrocious golden silk shirt down. He’s turning away from his lover, venturing even further into the store. “Sorry, I’m just kind of tired. Didn’t sleep well,” his voice is far off to the sorcerer though, the boy too wrapped up in his own world to pay attention to a word that falls off of his fellow villain’s lips. “Once we find the right shirt we can go.” (Y/n) sighs, giving the boy a curt nod that he doesn’t even see. They’d been out shopping for four hours now, the bags in his arms were surely going to cut off his circulation soon and Morgie was still just as tuned into what he was doing as he was when they left the dorms. 
   They were supposed to see that new Nightmare on Elm Street sequel that (Y/n) had been dying to see, but now there would only be one showing left until the mall closed and it started in twenty minutes. He guesses he can kiss that plan goodbye, why would what he wants matter when Uliana was in the frame. He always fell behind her in Morgie’s priority list, he should have known that. Why would he dare to ask his boyfriend out this soon to Uliana’s “most important birthday yet”? He should have known better. The early weeks of November always took to Morgie being far more engrossed in his friend than his partner, he should have known better. 
    “Babe, can you please at least give me a color option? I’m drowning in options here!” He spares (Y/n) a look over his shoulder as he speaks, reaching back to grab his boyfriend’s hand to keep him behind him. “Go green, Uliana wears some green too,” the snarky tone has Morgie’s brows furrowing. If he looked back he’d see the way that he was shaking his head as he talked, sass falling off of every word. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “Yeah, let’s just find you a shirt, Morgz.” 
                                   ⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 ⋆
  If the crew of the Jolly Roger would be known for nothing else, they would still go down in history for the parties they threw during their time at Merlin Academy. So of course, they would be the true hosts of Uliana’s birthday party, and it was set to be a rager based on that alone. Of course, every villain party was known to be a good one. Obviously the group known for breaking rules and dark magic would have a reputation of throwing good parties. But a pirate party? Those could go on all night, with just about every liquor you could think of. And though no one ever saw them bring a blender in, there would be daiquiris and piña coladas flowing all night just so they could convince you that rum was good. Surely once he was a few daiquiris deep Hook would be sliding a shot of rum into his hand with the false promise that he’ll like it this time. Though he’s yet to actually like it. 
    He might need it tonight though, considering that in the hour that they’ve been here Morgie has spoken to him twice. He’s too busy being Uliana’s dog, running around and doing whatever the sea witch asks of him. So (Y/n) has occupied himself with leaning on a wall, squinting as the blue and green lights are far too bright compared to their normal tones. He barely notices that someone has idled up beside him until there's a solo cup of what he’s pretty sure is a mango daiquiri under his nose. “You look like you need this,” Hades’ gruff voice rings out beside him, the soft sound of metal spikes against the wall accompanying it. He reaches out and nearly snatches it, sipping the drink and giving it a hum of approval. Definitely mango, god bless Hook for that one. “I might just love you, you know that?” He leans his shoulder against the god’s with a smile, sparing him a glance. “Yeah, someone has to take care of you. Shouldn’t your little boyfriend be getting you drinks?” He glances around, shaking the other villain off of him to instead slide an arm around him, “Or at least be near you? Where is he?” 
    A sound that Hades thinks is supposed to be a laugh slips out of the other boy’s lips, the boy seeming to snuggle into the god’s side. “Oh you haven’t heard? It’s his wife’s birthday. It would be wrong of him to act like he cares about the side piece on such an important day.” As (Y/n) finishes the statement he nods aggressively towards where Uliana is sipping on a piña colada on a make-shift throne. She’s glowing, talking to Maleficent and Morgie about god knows what with a tiara sitting on her head. At least she’s having a good time with Morgie’s attention, no one else seemed to be getting any of it this week. “Oh ouch,” Hades forces out a fake hiss as he taps the other villain’s hip with his own, “Calling yourself the side piece?” 
   “Yeah well,” he shrugs, tearing his eyes away from the green silk shirt and carefully styled hair across the room, “That’s what it feels like.” Hades shakes his head, letting his hand slide up and down his friend’s bicep, “Now, you know that’s not true.” “Yet.” The singular word earns his arm a squeeze and gains him a verbal scoff from his friend. “Morgie’s little snake heart beats for you. He’s an idiot, but he does love you, you’ve gotta know that.” (Y/n) bites his lip, sliding out from under Hades’ arm. “Shouldn’t Hook have tried to force a shot of rum down my throat by now? Where is he at?” He’s walking away as Hades watches him with a disappointed face. He did know that Morgie loves him, didn’t he? Hades needs to keep an eye on him.
   Hook is at the make-shift bar in the back of the hide out when the other villain finds him, pouring two shots in the comical little solo cup shot glasses that he keeps handy for nights like this. “Where have you been? It’s not a villain party if I don’t take a shot with you before I sneak out.” He smirks, slipping one of the two shot glasses into his friend’s hand before lifting his own. “How did you get Morgie to agree to leave this early?” At the mention of his boyfriend’s name, (Y/n) slams the bottom of the shot glass in their hand against the table before them, quickly throwing the rum back before he can process so much as the taste. A strong sip from his daiquiri follows it, sliding the shot glass across the table. “Another, Cap.” It makes thick brows burrow, grabbing the rum nonetheless as he stares at him. “Finally finding a taste for it, eh?” The boy shakes his head, “I just need it. I’d like to be able to sleep when I finally hit my dorm, easier if my mind is swimming.” 
   It makes the pirate beside him frown, sliding another shot to him, “That’s a lot of alcohol compared to what you normally go for, Lad. Morgie is walking you home, right?” It draws a bitter laugh out of the slightly tipsy villain, “No it’s his wife’s birthday. He’s far too busy for me.” As Hook opens his mouth to argue, Hades comes up behind (Y/n), his hands sliding onto the boy’s shoulders. “I’ll walk you home, idiot. As long as the daiquiri stays here.” It elicits a whine from the villain in his grip, (Y/n) leaning his head back to pout at him, “No fair. You gave it to me.” And Hades scoffs, “Yeah, to drink here. You’re not drinking on our walk back to yours.” Hook wants to argue that his friends shouldn’t leave yet, but something about (Y/n) simply isn’t right. Of course, there was always a bitter air around the topic of Morgie and Uliana but this level was new. He didn’t normally act like this, and if he was this set on getting drunk over it, the boy needed to go home. So instead of arguing, he raises his shot glass to (Y/n). The two villains knocking the little glasses against each other. “Down the hatch, Darling,” he smirks, watching the way that his friend raises his brows with his own shot. And they knock them back, the same way they had at every party the group had ever thrown. 
    Of course, normally Hook didn’t take (Y/n)’s drink so it “didn’t go to waste” right after. The boy wishing Hook a good night before double checking that the god behind him truly didn’t mind walking him home. Something that the villain was sure he could do alone but there was no way that Hades or Hook would allow that, not when the boy was like this. So Hades promises Hook that he’ll be right back and wraps a hand around (Y/n)’s shoulders to drag him out of the party and back into the chilly November air. 
                                      ⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。 
     (Y/n) knew his limits well enough, he was lucky for that. The second he hit the pillow he was asleep, and now he was awake without even the ghost of a hangover looming over him. Not that he wanted to be awake, he would much rather spend his Sunday wasting the day away in his bed. But how was he meant to sleep with that incessant knocking at his door? So with a begrudging whine and stiff joints, the boy finds himself swinging his legs over the side of his bed. The knocking only seems to grow louder and more urgent as he makes his way over to the door. “I’m coming, god!” A hand reaches out to snatch the door handle, basically ripping it open. Morgie le Fay all but tumbles into his room with the motion, center of gravity being thrown off as the wood he was leaning on is ripped from him. And he looks worse for wear, sweat dampened neck and dark bags under his squinted eyes. 
   “What?” He recoils at the sound of his boyfriend’s voice as if it bit him, a pout crossing over chapped lips. “Can you quiet down? My head is killing me.” (Y/n) rolls his eyes, scoffing as he goes to close his door. “Then go home.” A foot is thrown in the path of the door, stopping him from closing his boyfriend out. “I woke up after a party without you.” There’s this odd sense of disappointment hanging off of his words, eyes seeming to pout more than his lips already did. “Yeah, I’d assume so. I left hours before you did.” Morgie pushes his way into the room at that, softly closing the door behind him. “You did?” “Yeah,” there’s a scoff dripping off his lips as he makes his way back to his bed, “Which you would have noticed if you gave me so much as a minute of thought this past week.” Morgie frowns, leaning against the door with his arms crossing over his chest, “You didn’t walk home alone, did you? You should’ve come and got me. I don’t want you to walk around at night like that.” 
   “No, Hades walked me home.” Morgie nods, looking over at the boy curling up in his bed. (Y/n) obviously trying to make himself smaller as he attempts to talk about his feelings. As if he was doing something wrong. “So why did you ask Hades instead of your boyfriend?” He cuts Morgie a look, rolling his eyes, “I didn’t ask Hades, he just knows me well enough to know when something is wrong.” Morgie raises his brows, “And I don’t know you? I know you, I can tell when something is wrong.” It earns him a laugh, a twisted and broken one that makes his skin crawl. “You do, do you? Okay, then why did we originally go to the mall last Saturday?” And his stomach falls with his confidence. How was Morgie ever meant to come back from this one?
@an-absolute-waste-of-space
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snapghoul · 2 days
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I'm loving this extended Tom Cruise Universe you're building with Top Gun and Mission Impossible. It's just so much fun!!
Do you have any thoughts about Ethan and Bradley interacting? I'd love to see baby Bradley being So Confused by the whole twin situation, but I'd also love to see something with grown up Bradley. Really just anything with those two.
Thank you so much for sharing your writing with us!! 💙💙
Hehe I love the cruise multiverse, I’m having so much fun and I love that you are enjoying it. Here’s some more Mitchell twins and Bradley ❤️
Vignettes of Bradley and Ethan.
Mav is there too
Warnings: foul language
The first time Bradley mistook Ethan for Mav was when he was five.
Ethan stepped into Carol’s house, arriving right on time at four o'clock, though he wasn’t sure where his brother was. He stood awkwardly by the door—familiar with Carol, but having not been around much lately.
“Mav! Mav! Look!” Suddenly, little Bradley clung to Ethan’s leg, bouncing excitedly while holding up a shiny red diecast car. Caught off guard, Ethan quickly bent down and lifted Bradley onto his hip.
“Look! Mom got me a new car!” Bradley beamed, proudly displaying the toy. Ethan chuckled, taking the car with his free hand and admiring it.
“Wow, kid! That’s a great one!” He grinned back at the toddler, who was still glowing with excitement.
Just then, the door swung open behind him and bumped into Ethan's hip. He turned to see Pete, clad in his brown bomber jacket and aviators, his hair tousled from a motorcycle ride.
Pete's face lit up at the sight of his twin. He shut the door and clapped a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, unaware of Bradley's bewilderment as he glanced back and forth between them. Carol appeared around the corner, laughing at her son's confused expression.
“Hey, little man! Is that Camaro from your mom?” Pete asked, enthusiasm bubbling over as he reached for the car. Bradley released it without hesitation, eyes wide.
“This is awesome!” Pete exclaimed, turning the car in his hands. But Bradley's confusion shifted to fear; he squirmed in Ethan's arms and began to whine. Without protest, Ethan set him down, and Bradley dashed to his mother, burying his face in her legs.
Pete burst out laughing, while Ethan felt a flush of embarrassment.
. ✰ .
Bradley was beginning to appreciate Mav’s affection for his desert hangar; it offered a peaceful escape from the chaos of everyday life. He navigated around the wing of Mav’s P-51 Mustang, the morning sun casting a warm glow as he recalled his promise to spend the weekend with Mav.
“Fuck!—Jesus Christ!” He jumped as he passed a makeshift living area, where Ethan sat on the couch, wide awake and stock still. The longer hair and nondescript clothing were a clear departure from Mav’s usual style. “What are you doing here?”
“Just enjoying a quiet morning,” Ethan shrugged, his calm demeanor oddly fitting in the dim light of the hangar. Most of the lights were off, but sunlight filtered through, illuminating the space.
Bradley ran a hand through his hair, bemused. That was quintessentially Ethan—unfazed and unpredictable. “Where’s Mav?”
“He took his bike out for a ride. Said he ran out of the good coffee.” Ethan smiled as if this was perfectly normal.
“And you didn’t go with him?” Given their shared love for speed, it was surprising that Ethan had opted to stay behind.
“I’ve had enough motorcycles for a while. The last one didn’t end well,” he replied casually. The nonchalance made Bradley raise an eyebrow—what could Ethan possibly have done to total a bike and walk away unharmed?
“It wasn’t mine, so don’t worry,” Ethan added, sensing Bradley's concern and waving it off, which only deepened Bradley's confusion.
. ✰ .
Bonus:
“Mav, what does Ethan do?” Bradley asked one day, having watched the man come and go throughout his life—sometimes battered and other times radiant. Yet, he had never heard Ethan discuss his work.
Pete paused, setting down his pen and glancing up from the paperwork Cyclone had assigned him. Bradley often sought refuge in Mav’s cramped office to escape the Vice Admiral’s presence.
“He’s in government work. Used to be in the Army, then transferred to another division after his honorable discharge,” Pete replied, carefully avoiding the specifics. The IMF was not a topic for casual conversation.
“Huh.” Bradley frowned, skepticism etched on his face. That explanation didn’t clarify anything for him.
Bonus 2:
Average Bradley reaction to Ethan dropping random lore every time he’s around and never elaborating (no one tells him anything):
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