#the worst thing a song can do in my mind is be boring

[phantomoftheorpheum]

Anybody else frequently go through these stages when listening to a song for the first time?

This is very weird.

What the hell is happening??

I really like it.

I think it might be terrible.

Do I love this is, or is it the worst song I've ever heard?

-replays-

[bwabys-scenarios]

Yandere!JJK/HXH men when you take over domestic duties(NSFW)

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: dubcon, implied Stockholm syndrome, yandere characters, nsfw in Gojo’s, Leorio’s and Geto’s, Illumi is the worst yandere to have, implications of reader being harmed in Illumi’s, reader is chubby

A/N: sorry if some of these are out of character, it’s been forever since I watched JJK and I’ve only seen season one!

characters: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Geto, Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Illumi

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved @stygianoir

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

JJK

Gojo

He’s ecstatic. Although Gojo is perfectly capable of keeping his own home clean and making his own food, he’s more than happy to watch you walk around in a sweater and jeans, tidying up the place and making a meal for the two of you to share. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing?”

He can’t help but coo and fawn over you, pulling you away from your work to smother you in kisses and right squeezes. He’s got a bad case of cuteness aggression, and can sometimes forget his own strength. It’s best you let this happen, he’s in a good mood, and you’d rather stay on his good side.

His reward is to stay between your plush thighs, making you cum on his tongue until you’re crying and begging him to stop. Because it’s a reward, he’ll listen this time. Gojo wants this to be good for you after all, since you have finally begun acting like you’re supposed to, like the perfect stay at home girlfriend and not the woman he keeps captive.

Nanami

Although his heart races with joy and love when he notices you’ve started taking over the cooking and cleaning, he still can’t stand to see his darling do all of the tasks around the house, so he used this an excuse to get you to love him bond with you more. He’ll roll up his sleeves after a hard day of work and come up behind you, hands taking away the spatula. “I’ve got this, you go relax.”

He’s determined to spoil you for the upcoming week, bringing home sweets from his favorite bakery to share with you and buying you those books you’ve been asking for. After all, it gets boring being trapped in his home every day. He might as well give you a reward for being such a good girl.

Choso

When he comes home to see you wearing an apron and cooking dinner, he nearly fucking LOSES it. He just stares at you from the doorway, mouth agape. When he took you, you cried and cried begging to go home every day, and now you were humming to a song on the radio as you made dinner for the two of you. “Princess, that smells amazing.”

He follows you around as you work, watching until you swat him away for making you nervous. Choso can’t help but swoon when you offer him a plate of food, face hot with embarrassment.

Geto

He more or less expected you to get the hang of being his little wife eventually, so it’s less of a shock and more of pleasant surprise to see you with your hair pulled back as you dust the bookshelf in his office. “My, my, seems my little wife has gotten busy.”

Although this was expected of you, Geto still goes out to buy you a new apron and cleaning supplies, along with your comfort food to reward you for your good behavior. Maybe you’re finally coming around to the idea that you’re his wife, and will respect him as your husband! He’ll hold you in his lap, letting you cockwarm him as he keeps a hand on your plump hip. “There you go, that’s my sweet little wife. Taking me so well, you’re ready for a creampie aren’t you? You can take it, sit still and pretty and I’ll let you call your family this weekend.”

HXH

Kurapika

He had made the kitchen perfect for use, all the(hard plastic) utensils in your favorite color, and a fridge always full of fresh food. Kurapika hoped you would eventually come around to cooking and cleaning, but he certainly didn’t mind doing the work himself if it meant you would be happy and comfortable. When he saw you preparing a meal for him after seeing he’d been losing weight and skipping meals, he nearly cried from joy.

You were worried for him, you cared about his health! He wasn’t delusional, he knew he took you away from your friends and family and had a love for you that sometimes crossed into obsession, but it was obvious his efforts to make you happy and comfortable had worked. “Angel, I cannot explain how happy this makes me, thank you.”

He spends the rest of the night doting on you, wanting nothing more than to snuggle and hold you to him. Kurapika is just incredibly happy to know despite your tentative behavior towards him, you at least care about his health and well being. That’s the first step towards falling in love, and he’s determined to make sure he follows through each and every step.

Leorio

Honestly, with his busy schedule working at the hospital, he didn’t have much time to cook and clean. Thankfully, you eventually got fed up with eating takeout and living in a messy home, so you took over the cooking and cleaning for your own sanity. When Leorio came home from an especially brutal shift, he nearly cried when he saw the apartment clean and smelled dinner cooking. His little princess was cooking and cleaning, all for him! His guilt from kidnapping you faded away into mushy lovey dovey thoughts as he came up behind you. “Mmm, princess you look like the perfect little house wife right now…”

You can’t help but notice the bulge poking into your ass, his hands wandering around your body. Usually he’s not so touchy, preferring to respect your boundaries in an effort to get you to trust and love him, but it’s hard to resist you when you’re making him a meal and looking oh so cute! He can’t help but squish your chubby tummy and grab at your plush thighs, tugging down your pants to get to your plump pussy!

Chrollo

Honestly, he never expected to come home to a meal being set on the table and the small home they were currently staying in to be spotless. Chrollo eyed the various dishes, raising an eyebrow at you. “You made this?”

You looked up at him, looking a little shy but accomplished. “Yeah… I figured you… would be hungry after your… job.”

Although you sounded sincere, Chrollo wasn’t stupid. He made you try a bite of everything before sitting down to eat. After seeing your look of disappointment when he questioned if it was poisoned, he almost felt bad. This was a genuine attempt at making a meal and trying to live as normal as a life as possible, but he was too jaded to just accept that. “Sorry, dear. I haven’t even thanked you for preparing such a lovely meal. Thank you.”

Illumi

He’s another one that expected you to do all of the domestic duties from the get go. Although there are butlers that take care of most of the work, you as his victim wife was expected to take care of his every need. You were very resistant to this at first, being absolutely terrified of him, but with a little ‘gentle’ pushing in the right direction, you were able to become the perfect, reluctant little house wife.

Although you preformed your duties to your best ability, you had never been genuine or happy to do them. He noticed this in the way your eyes looked empty and humiliated when forced to clean up the blood he tracked into your bedroom.

But tonight was different. You were excitedly cooking away in the kitchen, Illumi almost looking… soft when you smiled at him. Were you finally coming around? It took a lot of hard work, but he had finally molded you into a happy, cute little housewife. “Ah… is this my favorite meal? Thank you, it looks delicious…”

He noticed how your face lit up with his praise, the dark haired assassin taking note to use that to his advantage in the future.

[loudclan-clangen]

The song “Beautiful Little Fool” for Fiercestripe? Because I am not getting over her death. Listened to it and she was the first character to pop into my head.

You’re so right!

YES! Please do, I would love to see it!

The boring answer is that I've been drawing cats for a VERY long time. I think since I was 8 they have been the majority of what I drew. The less boring answer is you know the movie Spirit? It changed my life. It had a bonus video where one of the artists taught you how to draw Spirit himself and it was the singular thing that inspired me to start drawing (more likely possessed me). I think I must have been about two the first time I saw it because I cannot remember a time before I had that video memorized. I would spend hours sitting in front of that video (which was only like 10-15 minutes long) with a stack of papers just fully focused on perfectly following his instructions. I still think about that video to this day. Every time I draw legs the voice of James Baxter echoes through my mind. I don't know if that translates to why my cats are so beefy, I own a cat who is quite chonky, so that might contruibute to it, but now you have a fun fact about me regardless!

All of the heirs are chosen based on birth order! Whoever is born first gets to be heir. I personally find that making strict rules about stuff makes playing the game a lot easier for me, I find it stressful to try to pick a "good heir" when I don't know what's going to happen later in the game so to limit that I just let it be completely out of my hands. 2. The game rolled for Songpaw to become a medicine cat! I would have changed it if he was an only kit or probably if I had known that Dashpaw was gonna die, cause I was really stressed about losing my run at that point, but I do my best to write a story that makes the game make sense rather than change what the game gives me when possible. I think it helps me to not have much of a story in mind while I play, just noting down events and thoughts and then going back and piecing it all together afterwards. That way nothing can "go wrong". 3. "Heir-hood" only applies to the leaders. There is no expectation that Cavepaw will become a healer. When Weed dies that position will be open until someone wishes to volunteer for it. 4. Honestly I don't really know. This might spoil a little bit, of tension, but I truly never had that happen. I was SUPER worried about it and did a lot to make sure it wouldn't, but after a couple of generations you get to a point where almost everyone is descended from a leader at somepoint. (And also everyone is second cousins with each other but you know what there are some problems that you just have to live with.) I image the clan would look for an omen and just pick a new leader based off of that and start the process all over again. In my experience worst comes to worst just make sure you have a very accurate family tree and trace it back a couple of generations.

Thank you so much! I don't play with any mods for Loudclan, I'm too scared to lose saves to less than stable code. My favorite mod currently is Kori's Awoogen though! I just like to look at the beautiful art mostly. I use mass extinction as population control, so I turn it on and off based on how many cats I have. Two full pages is the upper limit of what I'm willing to deal with, so once a third page opens I turn mass extinction on and after an extinction happens I turn it back off. (also if I dip below 1 full page I turn unknown parents on until I'm back to two pages again). I've found after a couple of generations you can mostly stop worrying about it because the bloodlines have spread so far there's always someone who's a 6th great great cousin or something.

The game generated him Dashpelt! I probably would have picked Dashfoot to stick with the generated them of a boring suffix but to make more sense overall.

[killerlookz]

hiiiii i adore your writing soooo sooo much!! i was literally dancing in my room to joosts music and i thought of a new fic idea:3 can you write something where Joost comes back home and the reader is dancing to his songs in their apartment, the reader doesnt notice him at first, completely in the moment and when they do, they get all embarrassed and its all fluff and cute??(((:

awww this is so cute <33 ty sm anon!!!

Dance With Me? | Joost Klein

content: gn! reader, no warnings rlly! just fluff :-) the song in question for this fic is Joost Klein 2 btw! this fic contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 1.2k(just a wee little blurb!)

Sundays had always been your least favorite day of the week, a bleak reminder that the hours of the weekend were waning and you'd have to return to the monotony of the weekdays. Perhaps the worst part of Sundays was that they were your designated cleaning day, you would much prefer spending your last day free from work lazing on the couch or curled up in bed, but instead, once again you found yourself bouncing around your apartment straightening up whatever cleaning you had left unfinished throughout the week.

The silence of your empty apartment had been getting to you, bored out of your mind as you stood on a chair to dust off a bookshelf. The only thing you figured that would this slightly more tolerable was music at least the apartment wouldn't be so damn quiet.

You hop down from the chair, scurrying into the living room to turn on your speakers. It wasn't long until music was flowing into the apartment, loud, and probably obnoxious to the neighbors, but it hadn't been late enough to warrant a noise complaint- so they would just have to deal with it for now.

Among the many plusses of having a musician for a boyfriend, you had to admit being in possession of a stellar stereo system was definitely one of them. You had been able to hear the music just as perfectly as you pranced back into your bedroom, not exactly eager to get back to cleaning.

Though it would seem not much cleaning would get done after that point, more focused on the music than any of the tasks you had at hand.

"Joost Klein maar m'n stack die is groot!" You sang along with the lyrics that boomed over the speaker. Another plus of having a musician boyfriend was that he was a damn good musician., "De regering zoekt mij, maar ze vinden me nooit!"

You had found yourself jumping around to the music, a smile pressed onto your face as you swayed your head back and forth in time to the beat.

Still jumping, your arms in the air you start to spin around when suddenly the breath is knocked out of you at the sight of a figure in the doorway to your bedroom. Your body grows rigid, stopping dead in your tracks as your mind races to the worst-case scenario.

Luckily it hadn't exactly been the worst-case scenario, as your eyes focused and you were able to see your boyfriend leaning against the doorframe, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Why'd you stop?" He asks, clearly amused, "I was enjoying your performance. I think you might put me out of a job."

"Joost!" Your voice is sharp like you're scolding him for being in his own home. Your eyes widen at the shock, not having expected him to be home, much less having even heard him walk through the door, "I thought you said you'd be running errands all day."

Embarrassment begins to grow on your face, your eyes refusing to meet Joost's, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as your body grows hot.

"I've actually been gone awhile," He chuckles, "I finished my errands."

"Hmm," You hum, looking down at your feet, "Time flies." You mumble.

"It does when you're having fun, which you looked to be having." Joost muses, an eyebrow-raising behind the thick rims of his glasses.

"Cleaning was getting boring," You shrug, still refusing to make eye contact out of sheer embarrassment.

Joost can clearly sense your unease as his smile still rests on his face, beginning to bob his head up and down, slowly walking towards you with some grove in his step,

"Maar ik blijf Joost en ik bleef in de derde zitten," Joost lowly sings along to his own voice over the speaker, his movements becoming livelier as he gets closer to you, "Soms haat ik kittens en haat ik ook science-fiction."

He grabs your hands, as to ask you to dance with him, but you're reluctant, only holding his hands in front of him as he dances on his own continuing to sing along to his own song.

"C'mon," He urges, "Dance with me?" An exaggerated pout rests on his lips as he stares down at you with big, blue, puppy-dog eyes. You can't exactly resist that look, slowly stepping back and forth to appease his request.

He pulls at your arms as he jumps up and down to the music, just about forcing you to move with more excitement, your embarrassment quickly subsiding as Joost dances in a manner similar to how you had been just moments prior.

"Joost Klein maar m'n stack die is groot!" Eventually, the two of you are singing, bouncing up and down in sync with each other and you can't believe you had ever been embarrassed in front of Joost in the first place. It had seemed so trivial now that the two of you danced together, after four years together you were sure you had seen each other in much more embarrassing situations, you knew better, that he would never pass any judgment on you, "De regering zoekt mij, maar ze vinden me nooit!" You practically yell to each other, oversized grins burned into both of your faces.

The song soon fades out, allowing for a song that wasn't Joost's to start playing.

"You've got some good music taste," Joost teases, the two of your movements dying down.

"Meh," You shrug, "Joost is kind of mid, I think Ski Aggu is better,"

Joost clicks his tongue, shaking his head in joking disapproval,

"You're lucky you're cute." A kiss is pressed against your forehead. The small gesture leaves you with butterflies in your stomach, despite the length of time the pair of you had been together, every touch from him seemed to feel like you were falling in love for the first time all over again.

"You get much cleaning done?" He pulls back

You look around the bedroom, the bed still unmade, clothes strewn upon your dresser, various items scattered around your desk. You feel yourself becoming stressed again at the task ahead of you.

"Not quite." You respond sheepishly, you sigh, "I should probably-"

"It can wait, relax, liefje," Joost cuts you off, "I think we should continue our little dance party."

"Easy for you to say when you've gotten everything you need to get done today,"

"Hmm," Joost puckers his lips, twisting his face into an expression that makes it obvious he's thinking, "How about..." He trails off for a moment, inching closer to you, "You stay here and dance with me, and I'll clean the whole apartment while you're at work tomorrow."

It's an easy proposition to accept, not having to clean? Fine by you.

"Deal?" He asks, smiling down at you.

"Deal," You quickly nod.

"Eh," he holds up a finger, "We need to seal the deal."

You raise your eyebrows up at him, waiting for what he's going to say next,

"You gotta give me a kiss to seal our deal,"

You giggle, standing up on your tip toes, placing both of your hands on Joost's shoulders as you reach up to press your lips to his.

He's quick to kiss you back, resting his hands on your waist as he engages you in a soft, passionate kiss.

"Okay," He nods, "Now it's a deal."

[diana-thyme]

SUPER Low Energy Witchcraft

I’ve been seeing a lot of low energy witchcraft posts, but every one I read isn’t really low energy. When I think ‘low energy,’ I think something I can do on my lowest of low days. Days I can’t get out of bed or even think sometimes. So here it is. The SUPER Low Energy Witchcraft Guide.

Sigils sites. I have found this one to be very good. They’ll make a sigil for you so you don’t have to.

Pinterest boards. Making spells or manifesting using Pinterest boards is one of my favorite things to do.

Spotify playlists. Similar to the Pinterest board idea, use songs to create spells or manifest certain things.

Emoji spells. Use emojis to make spells, making sure they’re packed with intent.

Hang out with your tarot deck. Or any divination tool, for that matter. Just having it near you counts.

Talking to spirits and deities. Tell them about something you plan to do for them, a ritual you’d like help with, ask for help getting through the lows, etc. Or just talk to them. It doesn’t matter about what, talking improves relationships.

Read. Read books you were planning on reading. Definitely do not ever go on Z-Library for free books. Never. /s You do have limits on downloading and it’s relatively hard to figure out on mobile, but if you can get your tablet or computer up and running, it’ll work perfectly.

Scroll through Tumblr. Or Reddit. Or Pinterest. Or even Tik Tok. Scroll through the witch tags, scroll through the tags of and deities you might worship/work with. Or just look at pretty plants. Think about what they can help you with.

Make a shopping list. If you need to restock any herbs or candles, note it down.

Just light a candle or two. Simple as that.

Make a pouch or enchant a piece of jewelry or whatever you want to do to help you recover from your lows before they happen. Touch them or hold them or even just think of them when you want.

Similar to above, enchant any aids (mobility aids, medication, pain relievers, heating pads and ice packs, etc.) to help you recover faster.

If you can, think about your practice, what you want to change, what you 100% wouldn’t change, how it relates to others’ crafts, etc.

Meditate. I’m not talking about some 30 minute guided meditation sitting upright, because I have trouble with them on my lows. I’m talking about staring blankly into space or practicing mindfulness or something like that. You don’t have to do it for long, either. Take a few minutes to chill.

If you can, open your windows. Or curtains. Or blinds. Let it clear out your space.

Enchant your water or foods to help with your symptoms. Draw a sigil with anything (oil, sharpie, air, etc.) on your bottles and above your food to aid in your recovery.

Wash your face and/or hands to cleanse yourself for the day.

Have a ‘worry stone.’ Take a crystal or rock or other stone and rub it when you’re anxious. Or, enchant it to remove negative energies and rub it when your pain is at the worst. The very least it will do is distract you.

Simply rest. Resting and taking some time to recover is the best practice.

Obviously this isn’t a large list, but I cannot emphasize the ‘simply rest’ part enough. As practitioners, we tend to want to do more when we’re sitting bored in bed. But remember, safety first. The quicker you recover, the quicker you can get back to your craft.

[flowercrowngods]

hello i’m attempting something for steddie week too, but it'll be one large thing probably @steddie-week

day 01: pining

2 new messages

eddie The Problem munson: —steeb —esteban —stefano  —stevie —love of my life apple of my eye pls pls tell me i can call you  —i am very chill etc etc —no i’m not  —let me call youuuu  —😠🥺🙏

Steve snorts as he picks up his phone and reads Eddie’s messages that keep coming in his usual spam of consciousness, a giddy feeling spreading in his chest as he snorts and goes to answer. 

— Call me then, coward 

Not a second later, his phone rings. Steve picks up immediately, even though he considers making Eddie wait; just to be difficult. Just to calm his racing heart that is always so lively around Eddie. 

“What,” he says, attempting to sound bored and annoyed — in vain, because even he can hear the smile on his face. Traitor, he thinks to himself. 

“Steve,” Eddie sing-songs, drawing out Steve’s name like he does every time he’s happy. “Steve, Steve, Stevie.” 

“Ed, Ed, Eddie,” he sings back, relaxing into his couch and shutting the laptop. Lesson planning can wait, he decides, shuffling all the loose pages into the text book and placing his laptop on the pile, trusting that physics won’t betray him. “What’s got you so happy, hm?” 

“Why do you think I’m happy?” Damn idiot has a smile on his face as he asks that, Steve can hear it. It makes his own grin widen and he huffs into the phone. 

“I literally know you, babe.” 

Babe. His heart flutters every time he says it — and he tries not to, because it’s meaningless, it’ll never happen. But Eddie picks it back up every time, and Steve is weak. God, he is so, so weak. 

On the other end, Eddie hums and Steve basks in the sound for a moment. It’s always so contagious, Eddie’s happiness, and he wants to soak it all up. Wants to be the reason for it. Wants, wants, wants. 

“You do,” Eddie says, his voice so light and fond it makes Steve’s whole body tingle. And his heart flutter. And it fills him with such happiness that he feels like he could take on the entire world right now, just with the way Eddie’s voice went all soft on him. 

God, he’s hopeless. So, so hopeless. But he’s also weak. An addict, leeching off Eddie’s attention, getting a kick out of the smallest dose, and absolutely certain he couldn’t survive if it were taken from him. He needs it. Even if it kills him a little bit, because— 

“She said yes.” 

Steve blinks. “Huh?” 

“Chrissy. She said— She said yes, Stevie. We’re getting married.” 

He says it and he sounds so happy. So, so happy. And Steve is the world’s worst best friend for the way he freezes, the way he almost drops his phone if it weren’t for the vice grip he has on it, frozen in time and space because his heart has stopped beating. It has stopped, surely, because no beating heart can hurt this much. No beating heart can crack open and still work the way it used to three, five, seven seconds ago. 

Eddie, bless his entire soul, laughs to fill the silence, and it’s the happiest sound. A boyish one, like there is no pain in the world and not a worry on his mind. A bit hysterical, too. Like he can’t believe it himself yet. Like this is the best day of his life and saying it again has reminded him of it. At least that’s what Steve imagines it feels like when someone wants to be married to you. He wouldn’t know, of course, as the only person he would ever ask is already engaged to someone else. Apparently. 

Eddie is engaged. 

Engaged and laughing and so, so happy. 

And Steve feels nauseous. Dizzy. Breathless. His eyes begin to sting and the hand that’s holding his phone begins to tremble, his grip so tight it hurts. 

Steve feels… too much. His hands tremble and he tries hard not to cry. 

“You’re getting married.” 

“We’re getting married.” 

They’re getting married. 

Fuck. 

Someone has to tell Robin. Because in true Platonic Soulmate manner, Steve and Robin fell in love with the two people who are in love with each other. Like the chaotic mess they are. 

“Sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner,” Eddie continues, a bit more sober now. Sounding genuine and sufficiently awkward about it, in true Eddie-manner. Like the big old softie he secretly is. “I would have, but…” 

But I know you’re in love with me and didn’t want to burden you with the love I carry for someone who isn’t you, Steve’s brain auto-fills helpfully. But you keep flirting with me and there was never room for someone else when I was with you. 

But, but, but— 

He swallows and drags in a deep breath past the pain in his throat where all the words he can never say are forming a massive lump. 

“Hey man, don’t worry about that, we all know I suck at keeping secrets,” he offers. And it’s a lie, because he has kept this one thing secret for years and years. This one thing, this huge and all-encompassing thing that he can feel in the tips of his fingers when he is texting Eddie, and on his tongue when they are talking, and in his heart even when he is sleeping. 

This one thing, this one secret, is his never-ending love for Eddie. 

And he will add another one to that, a lovely little friend for it. To keep it company. That other secret, of course, will be the way his heart has shattered into a million little pieces and will remain that way until he can’t even look at Eddie anymore. And even then will he look at Eddie and smile at him, and Eddie will smile back and the pain will flare up again.

Again and again and again, for the rest of their lives. Possibly even beyond that. 

“You do suck at that,” Eddie chuckles, though it is quieter this time, almost private. Fond. Gentle. Always, always like that. It used to mean something once. And if Steve closes his eyes, he can imagine that Eddie smiles his secret smile, the one Steve has only seen directed at himself. It almost breaks him. 

Eddie’s I have known you for a whole eternity and love you beyond words, silly, but you also make my life so much harder-smile. That’s what he has dubbed it because that is what Eddie had said the first time he smiled like that when Steve was drunk off his ass. 

But. But, but, but— 

It’s no use to think of that now, to reminisce and imagine what might have been if… Well. If Steve weren’t Steve. 

And that sure is a dark path he doesn’t want to trudge now, not in the face of the even darker path of Eddie getting married that he sure as hell will have to walk down for the rest of his life. 

He sighs and tries to think of something to say. Something good. Something that is not Please don’t marry Chrissy. Please don’t take yourself away from me. Please. Please don’t get married to anyone who isn’t me. Please open your eyes and see me, please listen to me, please understand what I say when I say I love you. Please.  

He kind of spaces out for the rest of the conversation, not really listening to Eddie’s words over the ringing in his ears and the pumping beat of his shattered heart. 

Eddie speaks softly to him, the undercurrent of happiness and contentment still in his voice, and it would give Steve life, it would be contagious, it would be so very precious if it didn’t also drive the knife of pain ever deeper into Steve’s entire soul, slicing him apart with no one around to put him back together again.  

Splitting him in half. One half that just wants Eddie to be happy, to sound like he does right now for ever and ever. And the other half, loathing that Eddie’s happiness is not inspired by him, not because of him, not in any sort of relation to him. 

It’s not fair. And Steve is torn. So he shuts himself off and lets Eddie ramble, tells him that he is tired after pulling an all-nighter again and wrangling the his difficult seventh graders that were particularly hard on him today when the other man asks him if he is all right. 

“Steve,” Eddie sighs, and a traitorous tear rolls down Steve’s cheek at the caring exasperation he hears there. “How often do I need to tell you that sleep is important? You’re gonna wear yourself out at this rate. And the kids just suck.”  

“I know,” he says, and sniffs, willing the tears to not fall. Not until Eddie has hung up on him. 

“Aww. That emotional, huh?” 

At that, Steve sobs out a laugh and gladly accepts the way out. “Well, excuse me, my bestest friend whom I love very much is getting married soon! Or, well, I hope it’s soon, nobody has time for all that suspense. Anyway, I am allowed to be emotional about this!” 

Eddie chuckles again and sighs gently. “Yes, you are. I’m glad you are. Thank you, Stevie.” 

Don’t thank me. Not for this. Not over this, please, don’t thank me. 

“Don’t thank me,” he says with a grin, and it hurts his cheeks from how forced it is. “Thank yourself for being brave enough to actually go through with the proposal! We both know you’re chicken shit.” 

Just like me, he thinks. Just like me. 

They laugh and it sounds hollow to Steve’s ears. He just wants the phone call to end, wants this to be over with. Wants them to not get married. Never, ever, in this life or the next. 

He wants… he wants Robin. No, he needs his best friend, his soulmate. He can’t cry alone, not about this. 

Eventually, Eddie hangs up, that smile still so audibly his lips, and that painful happiness still very clear in his voice. Steve wants to share it. But he can’t.

All he can do is stare at the phone in his trembling hand before he closes his eyes and lets himself cry, his head falling back against the couch until he slumps over to one side. He stares and he cries until he can’t anymore. 

Eddie. The love of his life. Is getting married. To Chrissy, the other, platonic love of his life, who is like a sister to him. Who, coincidentally, is the love of his real platonic soulmate’s life.

Fucking hell, the mess they find themselves in!

After a while of pitifully staring at the wall, all cried out and feeling thoroughly pathetic, he lifts his phone and speed-dials Robin. 

“Stevie?” 

He sniffs, and it must sound as awful as he feels, for her next words are, “I’ll be right there. Alcohol or ice cream?” 

“Both?” he whimpers after a moment, and Robin hums right back. 

“I’ve got you. I’ll be there in ten.” 

She hangs up before he can say anything more, and he is overcome with all the love he holds for her. 

As he waits for her to come over, he does not move from the awkwardly half curled-up position on his couch, the lesson plans for tomorrow forgotten completely. This is his life now. His Eddie-less life. His engaged-Eddie life. His loveless, hopeless, endlessly pitiful life. 

come back tomorrow for: bittersweet & angst | read here

[ash5monster01]

ello love! (for ur val celebration) can u write rafe Cameron for #4!! maybe make it grumpy r x sunshine rafe?

The Perfect Day

Valentines Celebration Prompt

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader

Warnings: grumpy reader x sunshine Rafe, fluff, confrontation, slight betrayal, language

4. You’ve always pretended you hate love to avoid getting hurt but then he stumbles upon a journal where he discovers you romanticize everything, including him.

word count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Rafe was not used to being the upbeat friend with absolutely anyone. That was except for you. You were just as annoyed with the world as him if not more. So somehow he took on the job of making sure you keep an open mind on everything around you. When someone talked to loud on their phone he was the one to keep you from saying anything and when an old couple kissed on the beach he was the one to remove to scowl on your face. He wasn’t sure whatever made you see the worst in everything and everyone but he knew you deserved more. You deserved hope. So even though he had been tainted by the world himself he still wanted to make sure it was a good place for you.

Which is why most of his weekends are spent taking you on small adventures, trying his best to get you to see the beauty in the world. So just like every Friday night he sits on your bed and waits for you to finish your shower so you could start off the weekend together. Other than today he was extremely bored. His phone had died and your bedside charger hadn’t quite brought it to life yet and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Which probably explains why his hand reached to pull your bedside drawer open.

Of all the things he expected to find in there the last was a diary. You hated everyone and everything. There was almost no practical reason for you to ever have an item intended to romanticize the life around you. And yet, leather bound and all is a dainty pink journal that has clearly been touched everyday. He doesn’t want to open it, but the more he stares the more he realizes he can’t even picture you lying here in bed at night and spilling every thought you had in the journal. So he opens it to prove himself wrong.

Today was a perfect day. Not only did Rafe make the most perfect fluffy pancakes for breakfast but he used strawberries to add a smiley face to them. He’s so good like that. Taking such small gestures and making them resonate within your entire being. I told him I wasn’t a child the whole time but secretly I loved it. It was adorable to think of him standing in my kitchen, smiling to himself as he crafted a perfect smiley face just to put a smile on mine. I could barely eat my pancake. I just watched and appreciated him. He hums while he eats, no particular tune but I never want to forget it. It’s my favorite song. I also love the way his nose scrunches when I make him laugh. It’s the cutest wrinkle that makes me wish I could smooth it out with my thumb every time. People are always so worried about getting laugh lines when they’re older but they’d look so handsome on Rafe. A constant reminder of all the times he saw me for me and accepted who I was. I hope I get to see those laugh lines for the rest of my life and be reminded I was the one who put them there. No one else deserving of the radiance that is Rafe Cameron. He makes every day a perfect day.

“What are you doing?” your voice startles him, the journal flipping from his hands and landing to the ground on the side of your bed with a thud.

“I- uh. My phone died, and I was just-. I thought you’d have a book or something” the excuse is weak and his stutter confirms his lie even more. Your hair is damp over your shoulders, more than likely soaking the black fabric of the small shirt you have on.

“I have a whole shelf over there, this is private” your words are sharp as you move to grab the journal from where he had lost it. He watches as you lift it up only to discover the pages he was on. Your eyes move fast across the page and then dart up at him quickly. “Did you read this?”

“Um, I uh-“ but your standing and hugging the notebook that just revealed you are so much more than a girl that’s hates the world but a girl that’s in love with it for all the things that make it beautiful. Including your relationship with him.

“Oh my God you read it” and now you’re pacing, unsure if you should fight off tears or the panic that’s lodged its way into your throat and is making you sick.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s no big deal” Rafe is scrambling off the bed, grabbing your shoulders to ensure you stop pacing.

“It is a big deal Rafe, this is humiliating. These are my private thoughts” you tell him, a bit exasperated to even be in this predicament right now.

“I know but I thought your private thoughts would be more along the lines of ‘not only did Rafe wake me up early for a surprise breakfast but he put a smiley face on my pancake like a kid. Mornings suck and smiles are for ignorant children’” and you hate that he knows you so well, or at least the person you hid behind. A girl can only wear her heart on her sleeve so much before it finally gets torn apart.

“Ugh, you really did read it” you groan out, moving to sit on the end of your bed and Rafe lightly chuckles, still filled with shock over his discovery and attraction towards you. It must be that adorable pout.

“Yes, but it’s not a big deal. I thought it was sweet” he says sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Ew, do not call me sweet” you groan and a laugh bellows out of him.

“Oh please, you love it. And me too apparently” and now your face is as red as a firetruck because Rafe knows everything. That you really don’t hate the world around you.

“I can’t even deny it anymore” and now that you weren’t entirely embarrassed and owning up to the situation, Rafe feels the seriousness hit him like a wave. Suddenly his arm is wrapped around a girl he’s liked for a long time and never thought would like him back. Yet now he knew that she did.

“If it helps, I like you too. If I didn’t I wouldn’t be making you pancakes early in the morning” he tells you, body nudging into your own, and you lightly laugh. You always assumed that your love for Rafe would be hidden by your hate for everything but now that the truth was out it made sense that it didn’t. Secrets never stay secrets for long.

“You still shouldn’t have found out that way” you say lifting the journal in your arms and he smiles softly at you.

“Can I ask why you pretend so much?” Rafe asks after a beat and you sigh, turning to face him which makes his arm fall off your shoulder. He watches as you finally release the journal on your bed and he knows you’re ready to open up.

“A girl can only wear her heart on her sleeve for so long until it becomes ruined. When you expose things to people, put them out there in the real world, they’ll always come back a little less perfect than before. I was tired of getting hurt and if you already assume the worst there is no chance of ever breaking down” you tell him, knowing how silly it sounds. To pretend to be so mean and vile towards everyone and everything when in reality all you ever wanted to do was love.

“I can understand that” Rafe says, thinking of all the times his own father had tainted his heart when growing up. Why Rafe was willing to do anything to get his Dad to love him. See him as something good, just like Sarah.

“I didn’t mean to lie, I just thought if you knew how I felt you would hurt me too” you say and Rafe sighs before scooting closer, hating that you had put distance between you both.

“Honey, I hate everyone and everything except for you. You should’ve known everytime I cheered you up and made pancakes at the ass crack of dawn was because I liked you” he says and the laugh that bubbles past your lips makes Rafe’s heart soar.

“I suppose you’re right, I guess I just couldn’t take my chances” you say and Rafe is grinning, hands wrapping around your hips, and pulling you flush against him.

“I’m going to kiss you now” he tells you and your heart doubles in speed as your eyes glance into his own. Rafe smiles briefly before ducking close and nudging his nose against your own. When your lips part for him he quickly seals against you. A soft hum of delight somehow finds its way from your throat and it has Rafe squeezing you closer as his tongue dips into your mouth. Once you’ve been kissed dizzy he pulls away, eyes glossed over as he looks back at his perfect girl.

“I was right” you say as he glances at your face, lips swollen from your own.

“Yeah, about what?” he asks with a teasing tone to his voice and you wrap your hands around his neck, grinning widely at him.

“You make every day a perfect day”

[adoresia]

Hiiii, i was wondering if you could make a Toxic Miles x f! Black reader where miles attends to mess around with other girls but y/n had enough and decided to leave him but miles won't let her and it turns out into a heated make-out session.

P.s. miles also manipulates the reader.

Thank you and i love your writng~

✦˚₊ STUCK WITH ME

next >

Type : request

Pairing : e42 miles x black!fem reader

Sierra’s note : Thank you sm for the request, i literally dedicated my whole day into writing this so i hope i didn’t disappoint 😩!

Warnings : Toxic miles, suggestive, make out session, swearing, use of dirty talk at the end?

Listen too’s : I listened to this song while writing so if you want you can listen to it while reading 😚

Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated !

It was another repeated boring day at school, yet your mind trailed somewhere else. After finishing your assignment for this class you had your head nuzzled in your arms on your desk, listening to the minutes tick by on your classroom clock.

However, your vision blurred as your mind focused on something else, on Miles. His behaviour lately had taken a turn for the worst. You weren’t sure what you did wrong, you made him happy? so you thought.

For the past two weeks, it was either Miles was spending his time with other girls or you were hallucinating.

The first time you caught him talking to someone you brushed it off, not wanting to seem like you were accusing him. But the first time led to the second, and then the third, fourth, fifth, and the list goes on.

You tried gaslighting yourself into thinking all these girls were just friends and they were just talking, however, Miles wasn’t the friendly type, especially with girls. More the flirty type.

You brushed it off, knowing it was just his personality, girls were attracted to him and there was no changing that. You just had to trust him, you thought.

But when you caught him touching another girl somewhere friends wouldn't touch in the school hallways, you realised that all these girls weren't friends. And you were just becoming another one of his ‘hoes’.

That afternoon you asked him about it, hoping it was just a ‘wrong place at the wrong time’ situation, and you could just put it behind you. That's when things started to turn on you.

“Soo, who’s that girl you been hanging around with?” you asked, sitting comfortably on his lap.

“What girl?” He questioned.

“That girl you were getting touchy with in the hallways earlier today.”

“Tch. She just a friend.” he shrugged, going back to playing his game.

“Friends don’t touch each other like that, Miles.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Of course I do… it’s just-“

“Then stop accusing me of shit, you know I'm yours chica.”

You chose to go by his word, not wanting to irritate him even more by dragging it on. But no matter how hard you tried it still sat uncomfortably in the back of your mind.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the bell, indicating the end of first period. You sat yourself up with a sigh and picked up the books and pencil case on your desk before exiting the classroom.

Trying not to let what happened ruin your day, you made your way to your locker. Tiredly putting your books away and getting your laptop out for your next period before shutting it closed.

You decided to take a different route to your second period today, knowing the way that you’d usually take would be packed with unserious students resulting in you getting scolded by your teacher.

As you turned the corner to a more secluded corridor, you picked up sounds of giggling and laughing coming from the end of it. You made a mental note to not pay attention to it, thinking that it was just another school couple hiding out in the corridor.

However as you continued to walk down it you noticed that it wasn’t just another ‘couple’, it was Miles. Your Miles. With yet another girl he claimed to be a friend.

As your eyes scanned his body you noticed his hands resting on her hips, as she leaned into him. Closing the gap with each passing second.

You felt your heart drop to your feet, your mouth lay agape yet no words fell.

“Miles.” You whispered anything louder would’ve resulted in you bursting into tears. But he heard, they both did, as their heads turned towards you in unison they both stood up straight. His hands fell from her body and that gap between them widened at the sight of you.

“Fuck.”

“No Miles, fuck you.”

You murmured again, loud enough for it the echo through the corridor. Before holding your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent yourself from crying in front of them.

That was before hurriedly spinning around and practically sprinting back around the corner.

“You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend?”

“Shut up, you knew damn well. Don’t act clueless.”

The rest of your day passed by slower than a turtle, your head laid in your arms in every class. Even during period 4, where you were forced to sit down in your usual seat next to Miles. He didn’t utter a word, not even asking if you were okay let alone a ‘sorry’. You wondered if your day could get worse than this.

On your way home you thought about how manipulated you felt, how used you felt. Not wanting to have to speak to him ever again. At that moment you decided that you were going to break up with him, to better yourself. You, especially, didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

That evening you lay helpless on the phone with your friend on FaceTime, you told her all about what Miles has been doing with girls around the school and what he did today.

The more spoke to her about it, the more you realised how much he manipulated you into thinking they were just ‘friends’.

“Bullshit.” Your friend yelled, cutting you off.

“Bitch I know! I can't believe I was so blind.”

“I can’t believe you not breaking up with his ass.”

“I am, when i figure out how. I dont wanna talk to him ever again.”

As soon as the last word left your mouth, you could hear metal clanking from outside your window, signalling that he was already on his way up to your room.

“Wait, I think I hear him coming up my fire escape.”

“Don’t end the call! I wanna hear this.”

You hid your phone under your sheets before standing up facing the window, your arms crossed over your chest and you changed your demeanour to a more serious one.

You watched intimidatingly as Miles crawled in through your window like nothing happened today.

“Wassup mami, what you up to?” He said nonchalantly while brushing the dust off his jacket before taking it off and hanging it up on your coat peg.You stayed staring at him with a cold demeanour on your face, your motive stayed the same.

“I asked you a question, did I not?” he asked placing both his hands in his pocket.

“She breaking up with your ass!!”

You heard the muffled scream coming from your phone that was shoved underneath your duvet. Your original plan to break up with him was disrupted, and now you didn't know what to do.

“Breaking up with me?”

“Yes? Actually? Miles I'm tired of being treated like another one of your side chicks, it's not fair. So yes, I am breaking up with you.” you struggled to say all at once as Miles inched closer and closer to your figure with every word you said.

“Break up with me?”

“Yes.”

You had no idea what he was about to do, it scared you. As his eyes glued to your frame, he dragged his eyes from your hair to your hips before making direct eye contact with you.

You felt your heart rate dangerously speed up as your eyes tried desperately to look anywhere but his eyes. It became impossible since he was now only a few inches away from your face.

All your efforts and attempts to fight against him dissipated when he forced your eyes into his.

“You're not breaking up with me.” He laughes, lips were so dangerously close to yours, you had to hold yourself back from breaking the distance between you.

“Well, i tried.” you head before the call from under your sheets disconnected, leaving you vulnerable. You felt his hands travel down to cup the underneath to your ass, as his breath mixed with yours. Still undeniably close to your face.

“This ass?” he gently pressed his hand around your ass earning a slight gasp from you.

“Mine.”

His hands then travelled up your hips to your waist, disappearing under your shirt. The skin-to-skin contact made goosebumps run across your whole body.

“This waist? Mine too.”

While keeping one hand still on your waist, he slid his other muscular arms out from the bottom of your shirt and brought it up to your face. Starting down at your I'm slightly parted lips, he swiped his thumb over the both of them. Before burning his eyes into yours.

“Shit, these lips?”

And before you knew it, the long-anticipated kiss was finally placed on your lips. You closed your eyes further savouring the taste of fruitful lips. The way they danced coordinately against your own, the way his tongue slipped into your mouth without warning. Just the way you liked it.

His lips detached from yours too soon, the taste of his still lingering in your mouth. Like a phantom kiss.

“I'm not going anywhere, chiquita.”

He whispered into your ear, before pressing his lips back against yours. His addictive taste dancing back around your taste buds and lips. As your heads bobbed against each other, Miles tapped the outer side of your thigh. Signalling for you to jump up.

And you obeyed.

It was like your body fell under his control, you had fallen for him all over again. Any thoughts you had of breaking up with him were soon replaced with nothingness.

As you jumped up to sit on his hips, your legs locked around his waist.

He carried you to your desk, still while deepening the kiss, slowly speeding up the pace of his tongue. Then sitting you down on your vanity after throwing everything off.

You felt insatiable, as your mind started to grow foggy. You slinged your arm over his shoulder with one arm, and then placed your other hand on his nape bringing him impossibly closer.

His hands were placed on either side if your waist, underneath your shirt. Almost taking it off completely. One of his hands rested firmly on your back to keep you steady.

He raised slightly, your lips craving the taste of his lips again. You slowly opened your eyes and locked them with his already locked eyes. His face stayed only inches away from your again, it was too soon for him to be done with you.

“Im… not breaking up with you Morales, but you have to promise not to mess around with any other girls.”

“Oh word? Imma prove to you that i can stay loyal.”

You smiled at his promise, praying desperately that he would be able to keep it. Because to be honest, you weren’t breaking up with him any time soon.

He slowly retreated from your face, and leaned into the side of your head. His mouth hovered over your ears.

“You wanna prove to me how good your clothes would look on the floor?”

© All rights reserved to @444morales on tumblr.

Please do not copy, translate or repost my work on any other platforms.

[amethystarachnid]

Hi! Its me again I had another found family troupe in mind if your up for it! I wanted to ask before the Christmas prompts started.

So this time I was thinking Deadpool x Teen!Male!Reader where reader is on top of a building, how he got there is up to you, but he's abt to make a bad decision (if ykw I mean) when dead pool finds him and starts to talk, and basically they end up making a deal, if wade can make the reader see how good life is then he won't do it, but if he fails the reader can go back, and basically its is a bunch of fun stupid shit for the rest and the reader becomes apart of the little odd family created in dead pool 3 (including logan) and decides to stick around. So heavy angst that's solved in a nice fluff, and if your not comfortable with the first part you can change the angst to a different scenario you totally can, and the how and why is up to you.

Readers personality is a sarcastic, cold teen, but he's caring and weird around ppl he's close to, he hides his emotions to keep himself safe

If you can do this I would be so so grateful, if not its totally understandable, I love your work sm its hard not to request things, keep up the amazing writing! Have a good day/night!

OPERATION MAKE YOU NOT HATE THE UNIVERSE

⤷ WADE WILSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Wade Wilson x male!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, angst, tiny bit of fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): This story deals with sensitive themes, including mental health struggles and suicide

ᯓ★ I'm happy that you like my works and don't worry, you can make as may requests as you want, I'm so happy when people make requests! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The city sprawls below, twinkling and vast, but strangely quiet from this height. You sit on the edge of a skyscraper, your legs dangling into the nothingness, with only the hum of distant cars and neon lights bleeding through the foggy air.

You take a deep breath, the cold biting into your lungs. It makes sense, somehow, for this place to be the last thing you’d see. Who knows how long you’ve been sitting here, trying to drum up the courage or the anger or whatever it’s going to take to finally just let go. But the emptiness is louder than any fear. The world feels like it’s swallowed you whole, and this—you dangling on the edge—feels like the only time you’ve ever been able to look it in the face.

“You know, most people pick roller coasters or a fifth of tequila if they wanna feel a thrill.”

You flinch. Not from surprise—well, okay, a little from surprise—but more from sheer irritation. This is the moment someone decides to intrude? You glance over your shoulder and see him. He’s wearing red and black, looking like a deranged SWAT team dropout, leaning casually against the roof access door, arms crossed like he’s watching a really boring episode of a soap opera.

“And here I thought I had the whole roof to myself,” you say dryly, hiding your unease. “Guess we’re all just having a rooftop party.”

“Lucky for you, kiddo, I’m the life of the party. Deadpool, at your service,” he says with a bow. “But hey, what’s a young guy like you doing up here all alone? Besides reenacting all the worst Lifetime movies?”

You snort, because it’s exactly that bad. “Oh, just figured I’d enjoy the view,” you reply, deadpan. “And maybe gravity. Seems like a good combo.”

“Right, right, makes sense,” he nods, as if he’s in on some cosmic joke only you get. He crouches down, edging a little closer. “Let me guess. Someone pissed you off, the world sucks, you hate your life, blah blah blah, and now you’re about to end it all. Am I close?”

You don’t answer, just roll your eyes and stare back out at the city. But something in the fact that he said it—that he got it so easily—makes you feel strange. Seen.

“Oh, man, nailed it!” Deadpool cheers, like this is some sort of accomplishment. “See, I’m like a therapist, but with 90% more leather and 100% more explosions. And, I make house calls. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah? Where’s the PhD?” You give him a sidelong look, unimpressed. “Bet it’s in the mail.”

He gasps theatrically. “Excuse me, my online course was very thorough, thank you. You’re looking at a fully certified therapist-slash-savior-slash-pizza connoisseur.” He steps even closer, as if he’s trying to get a read on you. “So, what’s it gonna take for you to, I dunno…step back from the edge, champ?”

The question catches you off guard, but you school your expression back into that empty, unreadable mask. “Nothing,” you say. “Don’t need saving.”

“Aw, sure you do. Everybody does,” Deadpool replies, with a smile that’s a little too wide. He’s still in that crouch, head tilted like he’s studying a lab rat. “C’mon, take me up on my deal.”

“I didn’t agree to any deal,” you mutter.

“Well, that’s about to change, Mr. Antisocial.” Deadpool leans in, his voice a dramatic whisper. “I’ll make you a bet. If I can’t show you something worth sticking around for, something that doesn’t totally suck, you win. But if I can—and oh, I will—then you gotta promise not to do anything stupid up here. No ‘jumping’ and no ‘leaping gracefully off into the night’—not on my watch. Deal?”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. But then, you’re not sure this guy even knows what serious means. A smirk slips onto your face, mostly from disbelief. “And if you fail, I get to come back here and do what I want.”

Deadpool slaps his hands together, eyes lighting up like he’s just scored a jackpot. “Deal! Signed, sealed, and delivered. What’s your name, by the way? So I know what to call you when I start ‘Operation Make You Not Hate the Universe.’”

“None of your business.”

“Oh, that’s not gonna work,” he replies breezily. “I’ll call you...” He pauses dramatically, finger tapping his chin. “Shadow Kid. Because of your gloomy vibes. Or Edgy McBroodface. Either one works for me.”

You sigh, exasperated. “Fine. It’s Y/n. Happy?”

He claps his hands like a kid on Christmas. “Delighted! Well, Y/n, pack your bags because you’re about to take the Deadpool Tour de Joy. First stop: that little bakery down the street that makes these empanadas that are just to die for—pun very intended.”

As ridiculous as he sounds, something inside you—against all odds—doesn’t completely hate this idea. Maybe he’s right, maybe he’s wrong, but at least he’s distracting you. And it’s better than the silence. So you sigh, push yourself back from the edge, and follow him, if only because he’s made it impossible not to.

“Don’t get too excited,” you warn, hiding a hint of curiosity beneath a mask of sarcasm. “I don’t like pastries.”

“Don’t worry, kid, you will,” he grins, guiding you off the ledge. “Deadpool guarantees it. Or I’ll give you a full refund. You know, after we make sure you don’t end up sidewalk art.”

It’s midnight, and you’re trailing behind a lunatic in red and black spandex as he skips down the street like he’s leading a parade of one. You almost regret stepping away from the edge of that building. Almost. Because, despite everything, Deadpool’s got your attention, even if it’s just so you can see where this trainwreck of a night is headed.

“Now, Y/n,” he says, spinning around to face you while walking backward, “it’s time I introduce you to my squad. My inner circle. The people who either love me or have given up trying to kill me. I figured, what better way to kick off Operation: Don’t Be A Self-Destructive Edgelord than some quality time with family?”

“Your ‘family’?” You raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Oh, yes. They’re the most dysfunctional group of weirdos you’ll ever meet, which, in our line of work, is high praise.” He turns back around, leading you down a couple of twisting alleyways until you’re standing in front of a building that looks like it was abandoned about a hundred years ago.

“Home, sweet home!” Wade announces proudly, shoving the door open. “Well, it’s not really mine, but Al’s not much of a decorator anyway.”

You’re about to ask who “Al” is when you spot her: a short, older woman with oversized sunglasses, leaning against a sofa, flipping through a Braille magazine. She doesn’t even look up when she addresses Deadpool.

“You brought home another stray, Wade? You’d think you were trying to start an orphanage for misfits,” she mutters.

“This one’s special, Al. Meet Y/n,” Wade says, guiding you inside. “Y/n, this is the one and only Blind Al. She’s my friend, roommate, therapist, probation officer, and part-time parole board.”

Al snorts. “You think I’d live with Wade if I had any other options?”

You almost smirk. “So you’re telling me he’s like this all the time?”

Al nods, and you catch the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. “Constantly. And unfortunately, you’ll get used to it.”

“Come on, Al, don’t ruin the surprise! I’m a blast to be around,” Wade says, slapping you on the back with a little too much enthusiasm. “Anyway, I promised Y/n the Deadpool Experience™, which includes only the finest influences and biggest badasses on the market.”

“Speaking of badasses…” Wade nudges you, gesturing to the kitchen doorway, where a tall, grizzled man in flannel and jeans leans against the frame, arms crossed. His eyes are hard, the kind that say he’s seen more than his fair share of horror, but he’s giving you a look that’s somewhere between curiosity and caution.

“Logan, meet Y/n,” Wade says, pushing you forward. “Y/n, meet Wolverine, aka Logan Howlett, aka the surliest Canadian this side of the Rockies. Logan, Y/n here’s having a tough time deciding if life’s worth sticking around for, so I figured you could help me convince him otherwise. Since you’re all about that whole ‘living through endless suffering’ thing.”

Logan looks you over, clearly unimpressed with Wade’s choice of words. “You tell this kid what he was getting into by sticking with you?” he grumbles, giving Wade a side-eye.

“Why spoil the fun?” Wade chirps. “Besides, I figured I’d ease him into the nightmare that is my lifestyle by introducing him to you first. It’s all part of my master plan.”

You scoff. “Not exactly a plan so far.”

Logan grunts, shooting Wade a look. “Kid, if you’re here, you better be ready to put up with more crap than you signed up for. And if you don’t, well, don’t expect us to sugarcoat it.”

“Gee, thanks, Logan. Great pep talk,” Wade says, clapping his hands together. “You’re practically the Canadian Dr. Phil.”

“Whatever,” Logan mutters, giving you a short nod of acknowledgment. “Stay out of trouble, kid.”

“Thanks,” you reply dryly. “I’ll make a note of it.”

Wade flashes a grin. “All right, now that we’ve got the somber stuff out of the way, it’s time to meet my real pride and joy. Follow me, Y/n.” He leads you down a narrow hallway, barely glancing back as he goes. “And here, in the third and definitely not cleanest room on the left, is the Mini Wolverine herself, Laura Kinney!”

You peer around the doorframe, and sure enough, there’s a young girl, no older than you, sharpening a knife with an intensity that could probably slice through steel. She looks up, one eyebrow raised as she sizes you up.

“So…another of Wade’s recruits?” she asks, her tone half-sarcastic but half-genuine, like she’s as surprised as anyone to find herself among this crowd.

“Not exactly,” you reply. “Apparently, I’m part of some…life-affirming experiment?”

Laura smirks. “Good luck. Most people just end up scarred. Or worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, mini-me,” Wade says, swooping in to ruffle her hair, which she swats at with the speed of a ninja. “Y/n, Laura here is what we call a ‘clone’—same rage issues, same claws, same immunity to hugs as Mr. Broodmaster in the kitchen. Laura, Y/n here is testing out the Wade Wilson School of Life Choices.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Well, better you than me. Good luck.”

“Look at that, Y/n! She’s already rooting for you,” Wade says, pulling you back out of the room before you can reply.

“Sure,” you mutter. “I feel like I’m one big science project.”

“Nah, science projects are boring,” Wade says cheerfully. “And last, but certainly not least, the crown jewel of this ridiculous ensemble is… Peter!”

You frown, confused, as Wade leads you to the living room, where a man with glasses and a receding hairline is lounging on the couch, a sandwich in one hand and a soda in the other. He looks up and waves at you with a sheepish smile.

“Hey there. I’m Peter,” he says. “No code name, no special abilities, just…Peter.”

You raise an eyebrow at Wade. “How does he fit in?”

“Oh, he doesn’t,” Wade says matter-of-factly. “He’s just a genuinely good guy. The one, non-superpowered person who got tangled up in my dumpster fire of a life and didn’t immediately bail. I figured he’d be a nice balance to all the violent murderers in the room. Plus, he makes a mean ham and cheese sandwich.”

Peter shrugs, giving you a friendly smile. “Sometimes, it’s good to have at least one guy who knows what life’s like for the average person. And I figure, if Wade can make it, maybe there’s hope for all of us, right?”

You nod slowly, unsure what to make of all this but also, maybe for the first time in a long time, feeling something close to warmth. These people are rough around the edges, sure, but there’s an understanding in the way they look at you—like they know what it’s like to have the world chew you up and spit you out.

“Well, Y/n,” Wade says, clapping his hands together, “you’ve met the gang. Now, how about that empanada?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine,” you mutter. “One empanada. But if it sucks, this deal’s off.”

Wade grins. “Deal! And hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even get a side of wisdom and life lessons from our merry band of misfits. Consider this step one on the path to…not hating everything.”

He leads the way, Peter and Al in tow, while Logan and Laura hang back a bit. And as you walk down the dimly lit street, surrounded by this unlikely crew, you realize maybe—just maybe—Wade might actually have a point.

The morning sun drips through the dirty windows of Blind Al’s apartment, casting a pale yellow glow over the chaotic mess of takeout boxes, weapon cases, and torn-up furniture. You’re sprawled on an old, threadbare armchair, an empanada wrapper stuck to your shirt from last night’s “Deadpool Tour de Joy.” You’d made it through an entire night with Wade and his crew of insane, sarcastic maniacs—and, against all odds, it wasn’t completely awful. In fact, you’d felt something almost like…belonging.

But now it’s the next day, and you’ve already told yourself a hundred times that you should probably just slip out, go back to what you were doing, forget all of this ever happened. You’re starting to push yourself up when Wade barges into the room, wearing his costume but missing the mask, eyes bleary, and looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Ah! Sleeping beauty rises!” Wade yells, startling you. “Figured you’d skipped out by now, but no! Y/n, my little suicidal protégé, how’s life on the wild side?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s early. Can you not yell?”

“Oh, no-no-no, kid, this is normal volume,” Wade replies with a grin. “Wait ‘til Logan shows up and starts shouting at me. Speaking of which…”

Right on cue, Logan comes around the corner, his expression twisted in irritation. “Wade, it’s nine in the damn morning, why are you already so loud?”

“Why are you such a ray of sunshine?” Wade replies cheerfully, barely dodging Logan’s hand as he tries to grab him.

“Because you’re annoying,” Logan growls, rolling his eyes and making for the coffee pot. But Wade is already blocking him, a mug in one hand, smirking.

“What if I told you there was no coffee left? Would you kill me?”

Logan raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to repeat it. Without a word, he pops out his claws, a metallic snikt slicing through the silence.

“Oh, I’m shaking!” Wade sneers, clearly egging him on.

“Deadpool, just get out of my way.” Logan tries to push past, but Wade laughs, making some obnoxious buzzing noise that apparently does the trick, because Logan grits his teeth and stabs him, right through the side.

You jump, stunned, watching as Logan’s claws slip back out, leaving Wade clutching his side. Blood pours out of the wound, and you’re about to call out when you realize that Wade’s grinning.

“Oh, there it is,” Wade says, inspecting the hole in his side, barely even phased. “You got me good, Wolvie. Was hoping you’d go for the chest, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“What the hell?” You can’t help but gape at him. “You’re bleeding, and you’re laughing?”

Wade winks, dropping his hand and letting you see that the wound is…healing. Muscles and tissue knit themselves back together, as if he hadn’t been stabbed at all. “Oh, yeah! Y/n, I forgot to mention one of my best features: I’m unkillable! Like an annoying houseplant that refuses to die. Cool, right?”

You blink, still trying to process. “So…no matter what happens to you, you just…keep coming back?”

“Yup! Think of it like this,” Wade says, throwing an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the sticky blood on his suit. “I am the miracle of human resilience, cranked up to eleven. Plus, I give Logan a stress outlet every morning. Win-win, really.”

“Wouldn’t call it a win,” Logan mutters, pouring his coffee. “If anything, you’re my worst nightmare.”

Wade smirks, turning to you. “Logan here’s my best friend. Don’t let him fool you.”

Logan takes a long, deliberate sip of his coffee, glaring over the rim. “One more word, Wade, and I’ll make it two stabs.”

“Oh, two stabs?” Wade clutches his chest dramatically. “Why, Mr. Howlett, you really know how to flatter a guy.”

“Honestly,” you mutter, looking at them, “this is the weirdest friendship I’ve ever seen.”

Logan glances over at you, grumbling, “It’s not a friendship. It’s a…complicated arrangement.”

Wade beams, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulder, which Logan promptly shrugs off. “Call it whatever you want, sweetie.”

As they bicker, Laura enters the room, unfazed by the chaos. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment before grabbing a seat at the table, watching the two men as if this is just another morning.

“Y/n, how’s Wade treating you?” she asks, a smirk forming on her face.

You can’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Oh, it’s just been fantastic. Nothing like witnessing multiple acts of violence before breakfast.”

She grins. “Get used to it. That’s pretty much every day around here.”

“Hey, I call it ‘combat therapy,’” Wade retorts, tossing her a wink. “You know, bonding time for the soul. Plus, Logan secretly loves it.”

You’re still processing all of this when Peter comes in, looking almost suspiciously normal, like a PTA dad in a nightmare of superheroes and chaos. He gives you a friendly wave, balancing a bag of bagels and a coffee tray.

“Morning, everyone!” Peter says, the only cheerful voice in the room. “Brought bagels for you all. Thought maybe today we could take it easy and just…you know, be normal for a while?”

Wade gasps. “Normal? Peter, buddy, you’re really asking a lot of me.”

“Don’t mind him, Peter,” you mutter, taking a bagel. “I think I’m the only sane one here.”

Peter gives you a sympathetic look. “I figured as much. Good luck with this crew, Y/n. If you ever need a sane friend, I’m your guy.”

Laura scoffs. “He doesn’t want ‘sane’ friends. If he did, he’d have run by now.”

You can’t argue with that. In fact, the thought does cross your mind—why didn’t you leave? But before you can dwell on it too long, Wade claps his hands.

“Today’s adventure awaits!” he announces, eyes alight with his usual chaotic energy. “We’ll start with breakfast and then…well, I’m not sure yet, but it’ll be something awesome.”

The group groans as Wade grabs his mask and heads for the door, beckoning for you to follow. Logan sighs, Laura grabs her knives, and Peter just looks resigned. But they all follow, like it’s a ritual they’re somehow tied to, and after a moment, you find yourself tagging along too.

The day is filled with antics. You lose track of the times Wade gets hurt, only to heal right in front of your eyes. Logan mutters that he’d be better off without Wade, only to punch him in the shoulder five minutes later with a hidden grin. Laura challenges Wade to a knife fight, and Peter just sighs, trying to keep everyone in line. And for the first time in…who knows how long, you’re laughing. Really laughing.

It’s almost night by the time you head back, the sky darkening as the city lights flicker on. You’re about to part ways and make your way home, but somehow, your feet keep taking you back to Al’s apartment. You know you don’t belong here, not really, but when you reach the door, there’s that same warmth—a strange pull you can’t ignore.

Wade notices you hesitate by the door and grins. “Aw, he’s back! See, I told you I’d be your favorite person in no time.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you mutter, but you don’t turn to leave. Logan, Laura, Peter, and Al all glance at you, each with a look of welcome that they probably wouldn’t admit to feeling. It’s an odd sight, this bunch of misfits, but in some way, you realize that maybe they’re not as much of a mess as they seem. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve found something here that doesn’t completely suck.

“All right, all right, enough with the mushy stuff!” Wade says, breaking the silence. “Y/n, welcome back to Dysfunctional Central. We’re going to make you regret every second.”

You roll your eyes but smirk, stepping back inside and letting the door click shut behind you. Because this time, you don’t mind sticking around.

As night settles in over Blind Al’s apartment, the usual chaos of the group fades. Laura’s busy sharpening a blade on the couch, Logan’s nursing a beer in the corner, Peter is cleaning up the disaster of takeout containers from earlier, and Al is sitting near the window, her face turned toward the cool night breeze drifting in. Wade, in his typical way, is chattering aimlessly about everything and nothing at all, flipping between mocking TV commercials and talking up his latest “brilliant” idea for a reality show. And, as usual, you’re mostly tuning him out, feeling a mix of exhaustion and…something else. Something that’s starting to feel suspiciously like relief.

Wade breaks off suddenly, his head cocked as he glances over at you with a curious look. “So, Y/n,” he begins, his voice dropping a few notches in volume—a rarity. “How’s our little…adventure going? You feelin’ the spark of life yet? The whole, ‘maybe being alive doesn’t completely suck’ kinda thing?”

You shrug, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket. “I mean, it’s…been okay. You guys are insane, obviously, but it’s not the worst.”

Wade grins. “Insane and proud, baby. It’s kind of our brand. But don’t think I haven’t noticed your little act.” He leans in, dropping his voice even lower. “You’re good at the sarcasm, the deadpan thing. But I can see the cracks, kid. What’s under there?”

You freeze, not sure how to answer. Part of you wants to laugh it off, throw a sarcastic line his way, but something about the way Wade’s looking at you, uncharacteristically sincere, throws you off guard.

“Why’re you asking?” you mutter, looking away.

He shrugs, casual but not unkind. “Because, believe it or not, I give a damn. And because if I’m gonna help you out of whatever pit you’ve fallen into, I need to know where to start. So…give me the lowdown. What’s so bad it made you wanna bail on this whole rodeo?”

You swallow, throat tight. The last thing you want is to spill everything, to lay out every messy thought and feeling. But the words are there, just behind your teeth, begging to be let out after you’ve kept them buried for so long.

“It’s…” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “It’s not one thing, okay? It’s like…everything.”

Wade’s eyes don’t leave yours, an unspoken encouragement in his gaze.

You take a breath, still unsure, but the dam is cracking, and suddenly the words are pouring out before you can stop them. “I don’t know, Wade. I just—I feel like I don’t fit. Anywhere. I’ve tried, I really have, but no matter what I do, it’s like I’m some kind of outsider. The kid who’s always…wrong. Like I don’t belong in my own life. And the more I tried to fit in, the harder it got.”

Wade nods, not interrupting, just letting you talk.

“School was a nightmare,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper. “People either ignored me or treated me like I was invisible. Even my own family doesn’t seem to get me. I just…there’s no place for me. No one who actually cares, and it’s been that way for so long that I can’t remember a time it wasn’t. And I know you’re supposed to push through or whatever, but I just got so tired, Wade. Tired of always feeling like I’m on the outside looking in. Tired of being…me.”

You shake your head, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “Everywhere I look, it’s like people have these lives, friends, family, things that give them a reason to wake up. But me? I don’t have anything, not really. So I started wondering…if I just disappeared, would anyone even notice? Would anyone care?”

Wade is quiet, watching you with an expression you can’t quite place. It’s not pity—thankfully, you don’t think you could stand that—but something softer, gentler.

“That’s why I went up there last night,” you admit, surprised by the honesty in your own voice. “Because I couldn’t stand the emptiness anymore. I thought maybe if I just…ended it, at least it would stop hurting, you know?”

There’s silence in the room now, even the usual background noise faded to nothing. You can feel the weight of your own words, a relief but also a vulnerability that makes you want to crawl out of your own skin.

After a moment, Wade shifts, sitting down next to you. “Hey, kid,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I know that feeling. I know it all too well.”

You glance at him, surprised. “You? You seem like you’ve got everything figured out.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, kid. I may be the king of talking big, but I’ve been where you are. Hell, I’ve been to worse places. You think I’m here just ‘cause life handed me everything I wanted? Nope. I got scars, inside and out, that’d make your head spin. And you know what? That ‘don’t belong’ feeling? I had that too.”

Wade pauses, running a hand over his mask, which he’s bunched up in his hands. “I used to think…if I could just disappear, maybe that would be the best thing for everyone. And that was before I became…this.” He gestures to his scarred skin, his voice low but steady. “When you look like this, people either turn away or look at you like you’re some kind of monster. It was…lonely. Really, really lonely.”

You swallow, something in his words hitting close to home. “So what changed?”

Wade smiles, a bit of his usual spark returning. “Well, I guess I just got stubborn. Figured if the world didn’t want me, then I’d make my own place. Found people—well, like the circus act you met last night. Turns out, sometimes family’s not about blood. It’s about…finding people who see the worst parts of you and stick around anyway.”

“Not everyone has that,” you murmur, glancing at the floor.

“True,” Wade admits, his gaze softening. “But kid, here’s the thing: you’re still here. And now, you’ve got us—like it or not.” He gives you a wry smile. “You don’t have to carry that weight alone anymore. I get it, I really do, but there’s no shame in letting someone else help pick up the pieces. Maybe you just haven’t found your people yet…but you’ve got me, and the squad. We’re not perfect, but we don’t go down without a fight.”

You look at him, a strange warmth spreading through your chest despite the heaviness of the moment. For the first time, you feel like maybe someone actually understands. Maybe, just maybe, you’re not completely alone.

“Thanks,” you say, the word barely loud enough to hear. “For…listening.”

Wade grins, reaching out and patting your shoulder, a bit rough but oddly comforting. “Anytime, kid. I’m annoying, sure, but you won’t find anyone more loyal.” He gives you a wink. “Besides, I told you—I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.”

You chuckle, feeling a little lighter despite everything. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope. It’s a gift and a curse.” Wade stands, offering a hand to help you up. “Now, you and me? We’re gonna keep going until you see just how much life’s got to offer. I mean, look at me—scarred, hated, stabbed on a daily basis—and somehow, I’m still here.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re a walking disaster.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wade says with a laugh. “But hey, you stick around with us long enough, maybe we’ll rub off on you. Logan can teach you how to growl menacingly, and Laura can teach you how to stab with precision. Peter’s got the dad jokes covered. It’s a real all-inclusive experience.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a spark of hope. It’s small, fragile, but it’s there. Maybe life’s not all bright and shiny, and maybe you’ve got a long way to go, but with Wade and this dysfunctional crew, maybe there’s a chance you can start over. At the very least, you’re not alone.

“Alright,” you say, meeting Wade’s gaze with newfound determination. “I’ll give this a shot.”

Wade’s grin stretches wide, genuine. “That’s the spirit, Y/n! I knew you had it in you.” He throws an arm around your shoulder, squeezing a little too tight. “And hey, if it ever gets too tough, just remember—you’ve got us.”

You nod, letting yourself lean into the odd but reassuring presence of Wade by your side. For the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s a path forward, one you don’t have to walk alone.

And with this crazy group, maybe that path won’t be as empty as the one you were on before.

if you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and leave a comment if you want!

[haveatthee83]

The Princess and her Fool (Buggy D. Clown/Reader) 2/4

Inspo: BABY SAID-MÅNESKIN & @sordidmusings Tender Love and Care

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word Count: ~9.7k

Warnings: SMUT!! MINORS DNI, cursing, insecurity, cunnilingus, oral, irresponsible use of devil fruits, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

A/N: MÅNESKIN is Buggy coded, no I won't elaborate, all chapters are inspired by different MÅNESKIN songs. Also, absolutely read the linked fic, @sordidmusings is an ICONIC writer with amazing fics. @fanaticsnail as well. They're actually the reason I started posting on Tumblr at all, so all the love for and to them. ❤️❤️❤️

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Buggy hated the bag. The fuckin itchy ass bag those asshole Straw-Hats kept him in when they decided his jokes weren’t very entertaining anymore, between navigation attempts. It smelled, it rubbed against the skin of his nose in a way that made him hate it more than he already did, and worst of all, it made it so he didn’t even have the peace of looking around at his surroundings to distract him from the pain of Arlong’s pirates’ darts games. The only reprieve he got from the irritating fabric was when you were on “Clown Watch”.

            You had taken it upon yourself to make sure Buggy(‘s head) was well cared for and comfortable. You had no good reason to do so, logically speaking. He’d been awful to you and your friends not too long ago. He was a ruthless, horrid pirate captain who would be immediately put to death by the government if he ever crossed a Marine’s path. His own parents didn’t want anything to do with him just for being born. It’s not like you even remember him. You didn’t even realize he’s your childhood friend, Peacock. And yet…here you were. Doting on him.

            “Now,” you started, still facing away from Buggy, running your mop over the wooden planks of the ship’s deck, “I know this is pretty boring, but I gotta just finish this section, then we can get some lunch! I heard Sanji’s making hot sandwiches and lemonade. I’ll make sure to snag you some too, okay?”

Buggy blinked at you from his perch on his barrel for a moment, just taking you in. You were humming, swaying with the rocking waves, the sun beating down onto your exposed shoulders over your tank top. Your smile was small, but content as you eyed the planks below you attentively.

‘Does she actually think I give a shit that it’s boring to watch someone mop? I’m outside. I can breathe clearly. That’s already miles ahead of the norm.’ Buggy thought.

“That-that’s alright Doll…” he said, swallowing the rest of his thoughts.

You immediately sensed that something was wrong, eyeing Buggy over your shoulder with a piercing glare, “What’s wrong, Buggy?” he tried to sputter out an excuse or something to get you to drop it. You did no such thing, fully turning around to face him, coming up to the barrel he sat on and crouched down to his level. Unrelated but relevant-to him, this gave Buggy a perfect eye full of your chest under your tank top. “Uh-uh. You haven’t made any jokes in like thirty minutes. No raunchy comments about my ass when I was turned around, no comments about the ‘shitty cook’? Nothing. Are you okay?” you said genuinely, perching your hands on the rim of the barrel in front of Buggy.

‘Your ass does look great in those shorts.’ Buggy thought.

Buggy swallowed, scowling at you, “I’m fine, Doll face,” you frowned, holding his gaze like you were trying to read his mind.

“People who are fine don’t act like completely different people out of nowhere.” You scolded, wagging a finger in Buggy’s face. “Do you have a fever or something? Are you getting too hot?” you asked, automatically reaching a hand toward Buggy’s forehead, only stopping short by a centimeter, “Is it…can I feel your forehead, Buggy?” you asked.

Buggy felt heat rising to his face, his ears burning, “You can, but I feel fine.”

Your frown returned, having just melted off of your face. You rolled your eyes and huffed, “Men.” You muttered under your breath, gently laying your warm hand on Buggy’s forehead. Buggy had to actively stop himself from sighing into your touch, setting his jaw. You scanned his face, brows furrowed. “You do feel kinda warm…” you trailed off, looking at the spotless floors around you, weighing something out in your mind. After a moment, you nodded resolutely and stood straight, eyes never leaving Buggy’s face for long. “Let’s go inside. We can stay in my room for the afternoon. I don’t think the ship will sink if I don’t re-mop one little corner.” You say, gently taking Buggy into your hands, minding his face.

You settle him against your torso, facing forwards as you walk towards the kitchen. As you carefully swing open the kitchen door, finding Sanji hard at work, a pile of grilled sandwiches building up higher and higher next to him. Buggy heard and felt you giggle a bit, “Busy, Sanji?” you jest, setting Buggy down onto the counter.

“Never too busy for you, mon cher,” Sanji purred, continuing to produce sandwiches at an almost concerning pace, “Luffy’s going to eat through this stack in less than a minute, and I’m still trying to gauge how much I should be making for him.” Sanji chuckled as he turned his head, looking at you over his shoulder.

You smiled, shaking your head at your captain’s antics, all the while reaching up to a cabinet just above Buggy’s head, the fabric of your tank top riding up and brushing his face, his wide eyes able to drink in the expanse of skin that was revealed. Buggy clenched his jaw and tried to suppress the heat that was rising to his ears.

You found what you were looking for, two glasses. That didn’t help Buggy’s predicament at all, he’s hopelessly not used to being taken care of, thought of, or helped…at all. By a pretty girl who laughed at his jokes? EVEN LESS.

“Where’d you put the lemonade, Sanji?” you asked, resting the glasses next to Buggy.

“Oh, right over here.”

“Great!” you reached over and found the large jug of cool liquid and brought it back over to Buggy, pouring the glasses full to the brim. You paused as you set it down, eyeing Buggy closely. Buggy could almost feel himself beginning to sweat, ‘maybe she’s realizing I’m not good enough for all of this.’ Just as the thought entered his mind, you beamed, an idea popping into your head. You quickly opened a drawer right beneath Buggy and grabbed something, you eyed Buggy with a mischievous grin and tucked the item into your back pocket. Buggy tried to question you, his brow cocking up when you interrupted him, leaning to his eye level and whispering, eyeing Sanji. “How hungry are you? I can grab a few extra sandwiches if you want. Sanji lets girls get away with a lot more than the boys.” You said, your hand cupped next to your mouth, trying to minimize any sound heading Sanji’s way.

Buggy felt that heat rising in his face again, “You-you don’t have to do that for me, Doll! Seriously” he sputtered, trying his best to keep his voice down.

You rolled your eyes and flicked Buggy’s ear as you stood back up, immediately walking over to Sanji’s side, grabbing a plate. “Could I grab a few extra sandwiches, Sanji?” you asked, resting your free hand onto his forearm. Buggy could see the tips of Sanji’s ears go red. “They look delicious, and I was hoping to get some for my night watch tonight, you know, before Luffy eats them all?” you giggled, subtly leaning into Sanji’s space that little bit more. Buggy was suppressing a frown when you eyed him over Sanji’s shoulder with a grin and a little wink.

‘Ah, flirting as a means to an end.’ Buggy kind of figured that’s what you were doing, but seeing you being flirty with someone other than him had his teeth grinding.

“Anything for you, mon cher,” Sanji proclaimed, serving you up four sandwiches fresh out of the pan. “Let me know if you need anything else.” He purred. You smiled and voiced your thanks, giving Sanji a quick hug, rushing Buggy’s way. Sanji was too distracted by your hug to notice you whipping out of the room, feet pattering down the hall.

You set Buggy down onto your bed, resting him onto your plush pillow. “Sanji’s a great cook, but that little flirt is barking up all the wrong trees,” you giggled, “he’s way too young for me, and of course Nami is not into it.” With a grin, you slid a crate you had been using as a side table over toward your bed, resting the food and drinks onto it. After setting it down you stood up and stretched your sore muscles, a chorus of pops and cracks coming from your joints. You sighed at the feeling.

Buggy watched you, peering at you from his position on your pillow. His eyes raked over your figure, resting onto the bare skin of your legs, and finding the small side string of your bikini peaking over the hem of your shorts. Buggy swallowed dryly, trying to stop staring like some perv, but he honestly felt like he couldn’t. Because that’s when his eyes laid rest on your face, your eyes closed, your lashes brushing your cheeks. Your soft lips parted just slightly. In that moment, Buggy felt like he might have found the most beautiful thing the whole ocean had to offer. Buggy didn’t want to leave you in a few days. He wanted you to come with him. He wanted a lot of things with you, but…he knew he needed to see you more. Being cut off cold turkey after days full of little moments where he’s been the happiest that he’s been since Gol D. Roger? That might destroy him.

“So, I was thinking lunch, then I need a bath, then we can read more of our book together or something if you want.” You said, rolling out your neck. Your eye cracked open at his silence and your brow furrowed. You eyed Buggy, coming to take a seat on your bed, taking Buggy in your hands as you adjusted yourself to sit comfortably. When you settled, you sat Buggy back on your pillow and frowned. “What’s wrong, Buggy?” you asked, carefully moving a piece of hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear.

Honestly? Buggy was out of funny things to say. There was nothing funny about the way you made him feel.

Buggy sighed, “I don’t know, Doll. It’s hard to explain.” He said, and you couldn’t help but notice he wouldn’t meet your eye.

“If you don’t want to talk about it…is there something I can do to make it better? Easier?” you asked, “I’m here to help you, okay Bugs?” you said with a smile, your hand reaching out to hold the side of his face. Buggy leaned into your hand without thinking, stiffening when he realized what he’d done. But…when he looked up at your face, you were just smiling. You held the most genuine smile he’d seen in years. “Here, let’s eat.” You said, stroking Buggy’s cheek with your thumb before taking your hand back, grabbing one of the glasses of lemonade.

Buggy couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, “How am I gonna drink that? I’m gonna get lemonade all over your bed.”

Your grin only widened as you reached behind you and produced from your back pocket…a bendy straw. Buggy’s eyebrows drew together in just sheer confusion. Confusion about how he got here, what he could have done to deserve this. To deserve you. And frankly, he was drawing a blank.

A gentle tink of the straw disturbing the ice in the glass made Buggy come to. You giggled a bit as you lowered the glass to Buggy’s level, holding the straw still for him. Buggy only hesitated for a heartbeat before (metaphorically) shrugging and taking a long sip from the straw. The lemonade was good, perfectly tart, not too sweet, and ice cold. How long had it been since he had lemonade?

“Alright, for the sandwiches, do you want me to rip them up or just hold it for you?” you asked, swapping the lemonade for the plate of sandwiches.

Buggy found himself stuttering again, “What-whatever’s easier for you, I guess.” He muttered. You nodded and grabbed one of the sandwich halves, minding your fingers against the hot fillings. You carefully ripped off a corner, holding it out to Buggy as you took a bite of the larger piece. Buggy carefully took the sandwich piece in his mouth, trying not to spook you by accidentally brushing his lips against your fingers.

As Buggy chewed on his meal, he thought to himself, ‘Wait…would…would she mind?’ Buggy had this funny little thing about him. He was a bit of a failure…but he was always failing up. He could stub his toe on a rock and by doing that, break a 100-year curse and get three wishes. So…maybe if he takes a little chance…fuck it.

“Damn that blond can cook.” You mutter, taking another bite of the sandwich half in your hand. After you took a bite, you ripped off another chunk of the sandwich and held it out for Buggy. Buggy couldn’t help but snort out a little laugh at your awe. You were right, they were damn good sandwiches, but your reaction completely caught him off guard.

You whipped your head to lock eyes onto Buggy’s. You hadn’t heard him laugh all day, and you realized in that moment that it was probably your favorite sound. “Eat your damned food, Buggy.” You said, thrusting the food closer to his face with a chuckle. Buggy complied with a grin, biting into it a bit too far, his lips brushing your fingertips as he pulled it away from your grasp. You physically stuttered at the feeling, your hand freezing in place, and you could feel warmth rushing your face. Buggy watched your face through his lashes, drinking in your flustered expression, a little pit of fear in his chest, miles away, but you didn’t leave. You didn’t yell, grimace, or smack him. You just stared for a moment. When you realized you were just sitting there like an idiot, you blinked yourself out of your stupor, shaking your head and handing him the rest of the sandwich half.

Buggy was feeling brave, a little high on your reactions. That’s why when you handed him the last bit, he decided to take a rather large bite. A bite big enough that his teeth nipped at your fingertips. You gasped, taking your hand back before flicking his ear, “No biting.” You hissed.

“No promises,” Buggy teased, a smirk spreading across his face. You sighed and grabbed another sandwich half, the rest of your lunch full of little nips and reprimands.

“I need a bath, Bugs.” You said, rifling through your drawers to find some fresh clothes.

Buggy huffed, “So? Why does that mean I have to deal with that moody-“ you cut him off with a deadpan stare. “I won’t look!” he insisted.

“And I should believe the infamous pirate captain, why?” you asked standing in front of him with your new outfit and a towel in your arms.

“Aww, you think I’m famous?” Buggy grinned. You crossed your arms and set your hip to the side, a pointed glare on your face. Buggy deflated a bit, eyeing the floor, “Come on, Starshine. I don’t wanna go back in the bag.” He muttered.

He saw you tense in his peripherals before dropping to your knees in front of him, taking his head in your hands, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. Buggy lifted his gaze to lock with your concerned eyes, “Do you…” you hesitated, clearing your throat, “I can ask if you can…just stay with me when you aren’t navigating.” You murmured, eyes searching his face for-something. What? Buggy had no idea.

Buggy’s eyes widened, “You don’t have to-“

“I want to.”

“You’d put up- “

“With what? Listening to jokes that make me laugh and keeping good company?”

“I’m not-“

“I’m asking.” You said firmly, “Don’t try anything stupid, I’ll be right back.” You said, and that’s when it happened. On reflex, without even thinking about it, like it was as natural as breathing, you rested your lips against Buggy’s hairline. It was quick, barely a peck, but it was enough. You rushed out of the room, “ZORO! LUFFY!” you called out, the sound of your voice and foot falls fading as you reached the end of the hallway.

Buggy felt like he was on fire, like every nerve in his body was lit up and buzzing with electricity. ‘You…you kissed me!’ he thought. ‘Me?! Buggy D. Clown?! You kissed me, and you’re about to ask…to spend more time with me?’ Buggy was dead, that had to be the answer. He was dead and had bribed his way into heaven. You were an angel sent to create his paradise. Well, maybe not. His paradise would probably include the rest of his body, and…other activities. Maybe you were just that amazing. Maybe you saw a pitiful, bodyless pirate captain with a big red nose and thought he deserved kindness. Thought he was a person worthy of your attention and affection. Maybe you…liked him.

“Okay, so,” you started, heaving the door to your room open, “You’re stuck with me now.” You said, walking toward where he sat on your pillow, “But, I had to take some extra night watches, so you better keep me company.” You chuckled, picking up your clothes and towel, rifling through drawers to find something.

“What are you doing, Doll?” Buggy asked as you gently lifted him up into your arms, heading out the door.

“I need a bath.” You said simply.

“Right.”

“You really are acting weird, Buggy. You haven’t been joking much at all today. You’ve only laughed like once all day!” You whispered, making your way through the halls to the bathroom.

“I’m fine-“

“Bullshit.” You said, pushing into the small bathroom. You gently rested Buggy onto the edge of the tub, turning on the water. “You have been weird all day! And not the good kind!” you insisted, testing the temperature.

“I have-“ God, could Buggy complete one sentence around you. He cut himself off as he saw you begin to take your tank top over your head. “Wha-what are you doing?!” Buggy exclaimed, unable to suppress the red rush of heat coming into his face.

You tossed the shirt to the side, unbuttoning your shorts, “Getting ready for a bath?” you giggled, pulling the shorts down your legs. Buggy unabashedly eyed your body, now only covered by a small, tie string bikini. He watched as you bent over to grab the shorts off where it had caught on your foot, the way you were reaching down squeezing your breasts together in such a way that made Buggy somewhat glad that his body was miles away. “I’ll keep the bikini on, so you don’t have to leave,” you said, suddenly bashful as you wrapped your arms around your middle.

“Well, don’t feel like you have to on my account.” Buggy muttered, to which you narrowed your eyes and walked over to the tub.

“Feeling better, Buggy?” you teased, stepping into the bath, lowering yourself into the warm water with a sigh.

“Might feel even better without that bikini in the way.” He chuckled.

You smiled and rolled your eyes, turning off the water as the bath was full. Buggy watched you as you dunked your head back and under the water, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy at your complete lack of fear in the sloshing liquid. ‘Fucking Shanks.’

When you rose back out of the water, you brushed your hair out of your face and rubbed the water out of your eyes. “Would you like me to wash your hair? Maybe get that makeup off your face? Little refresh?” you said, squeezing water out of your hair.

Buggy eyes the water cautiously, “I don’t know, Doll face. You know how water and devil fruits don’t mix.”

Your eyes softened as you reached up, moving some hair from his face that had fallen in all the excitement. “I’ll keep you safe.” You whispered, gently caressing his face.

Buggy swallowed dryly, but nodded, “You let me drown and I’ll bite you.” He said as you grinned.

“Deal!” you said, reaching over the edge of the tub to find a wide, smooth plank of wood, placing it across the tub in front of you. You grabbed Buggy and put him onto the plank, gauging his reaction, “Is this okay? I thought it might be better than just putting you into the water.” Buggy nodded, again feeling lost for words at your thoughtfulness. “Okay, great! Do you mind if I take off your bandana now?” you asked, fingers brushing over the fabric.

“Kinda hard to wash my hair with it on, eh Doll?”

“I just…don’t want to do anything without your permission, Buggy. It must be so…disarming to be just a head, I mean, the boys are always man handling you without asking, so…I want to always make sure I don’t do that.” You explained, studying his face.

“God dammit.” Buggy hissed, “That’s my problem, Doll!” he exclaimed.

You furrowed your brow, setting your hands back in your lap under the water. “What?”

Buggy huffed, overwhelmed and trying to find the words, “You-you’re just so…Why do you-what did I. Ugh! Why are you so nice to me?!” Buggy finally spat out. Your expression softened again as you reached back up, holding his face with one of your hands. “You’re so-so nice, and pretty, and you laugh at my jokes, even if they suck-and you-you think of everything all the time! Like the bendy straw and just this stupid wood thing! You knew I was afraid of water so you-you made sure to get this so you could still help me! I just don-“ God, one sentence.

You cut Buggy off by picking him up, still chattering away and bringing your lips to his own, a soft, quick peck, but it was enough. You drew him back just a bit, enough for him to tell you to fuck off if he so pleased, but he didn’t.

“Oh.” Buggy huffed, locking his eyes on yours. “I didn’t think you’d…” Buggy trailed off as you drew him back into another embrace, your lips pressing against his in a gentle pressure that he returned, his lips moving hesitantly against yours. You moved in synch as your fingers nimbly moved Buggy’s bandana off, seeking his hair between your fingers. Just as Buggy was thinking about venturing further, his tongue just about to flick across yours, you pulled him back, pure adoration in your gaze.

“I like you, Buggy. A lot.” You said, “I thought you were funny and pretty when I first saw you but…getting to know you while I’ve been on ‘Clown Watch’.” You giggled at the name, resting Buggy back onto the plank of wood, “I’ve come to like you as a person. You make me…feel safe. You make me laugh, you’re one of the most quick-witted people I’ve ever met, and well-I just…I think about you all the time. I think about how you’re doing,” you continued, picking up a cup and laying Buggy back, wetting his hair, “I think about what kind of things you like. I think about if you…really even like me at all or if you just put up with me.” You trailed off, grabbing the bottle of shampoo from next to you. You kept your gaze on his hair as you knelt up to reach his scalp, the smell of passionfruit and something floral invading his senses.

Buggy was perplexed, you of all people thought Buggy might not like being around you. You’re wonderful! “Why the fuck would you think that?” Buggy exclaimed, startling you a bit.

“I don’t know…people don’t really…like me like that.” You muttered, a sad look on your face. “I’m never the prettiest or the smartest or the funniest in a group. There’s just always someone better. Like Nami. She’s gorgeous, and I’m-I’m pretty normal.” You continued massaging the aromatic soap into his scalp, your nails gently scratching the skin occasionally.

“I think that’s bullshit.” Buggy muttered, his eyes scanning your face as you still refused to look at him. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I love just listening to you talk, and you’re the nicest person I’ve met. You’re pretty flashy if you ask me.” He said resolutely, closing his eyes, like that would make you incapable of arguing with him.

“Are you just being nice?” you asked after a while, running the cup of water over his hair, gently coaxing out the suds.

Buggy’s eyes snapped open at that,“Look at me.” You still only kept your eyes on your work, He whispered your name, not some Doll or some other nickname, your government name, causing your eyes to snap to his, wide with fear, “I like you too. More than you know. You’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time, and it’s only been a few days. I-I’m dreading finding Arlong and that tangerine girl, cause that means…I probably won’t see you again.” He confessed, eyes searching yours.

Your eyes welled up a bit as you poured conditioner into your hand, running it through the lengths of his hair, the same passion fruit scent wafting over him. “I know. I-I try not to think about it.” You whispered, grabbing the cup and rinsing the slick soap from his ends.

“You could come with me.” Buggy muttered, it was so quiet you could have mistaken it for the wind.

You smiled softly, setting Buggy back up on his neck, squeezing his long hair out, “I wish I could. Really. I do.” You said, your eyes pricking with tears, threatening to fall.

“Why can’t you?”

“I made a promise. A vow. To Luffy. I can’t leave him until I…find something.” You grabbed a soft rag from your pile of stuff and sat back properly, soaking the fabric.

“What do you need to find?” Surely you could find it with Buggy.

Your eyes darkened a bit as you brought the rag up to Buggy’s face, gently running it along his skin. “It’s hard to explain, I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Try me.” You set your jaw and seemed to search Buggy’s face, analyzing every little movement and twitch.

“I’m looking for my father’s Devil Fruit.” You whispered, running the rag over Buggy’s forehead.

Buggy’s brows pinched together, “Why the fuck would you want that?” he asked, you didn’t even pause your motions, still slowly cutting through Buggy’s makeup.

“I need to eat it so I can carry on his line. I’m his only child, and that fruit has been passed down in our family since Devil Fruits first came around. When he died,” you started, ignoring Buggy’s bewildered expression, “Marines raided his funeral. His funeral, Buggy! In my family, the funeral also is the ceremony where the next in line eats the fruit. Just as I was about to take it, the Marines came and…and killed the rest of my family. They killed my mother. When they escaped, I chased them down the dock and stole someone’s boat. I had no chance of finding them, but I tried. Luffy found me stranded in the middle of the East Blue on that little boat, no provisions or anything, in my torn up ceremonial gown, sun burnt to hell and back. He brought me on without question and helped me get better. When I was better and I told him what happened, he promised to help me find it. I promised to stay with his crew and help him until we do, then I’d go on my own way, find my own path.”

“Do you know which Marines have it?”

“No, but we heard it was relocated to Loguetown.” You said, wiping one final stripe against Buggy’s skin. “We’re going there next after we find Nami. It’s on the way to the Grand Line anyways.”

“Which fruit is it?” Buggy asked as you set the rag down, going back to grab the shampoo for yourself.

As you spoke you ran the soap through your hair, “It’s not very well known, since we’ve kept it safe all these years. So, you might not know it. It’s called the Kaku Kaku no Mi. The paint paint fruit. It makes it so whatever you paint manifests in real life. I paint a cat, a cat appears. I paint a ship, a ship appears. It works best with inanimate objects but can create golem like living things. It could be used in many corrupt ways, so we’ve kept it in the family and have worked for generations to keep it from the government. And I go and mess it all up in one little raid. I should have been able to fight them back. Protect the fruit. But I didn’t.” you said resolutely, dunking your head under the water, just enough to submerge your hair.

“You couldn’t have fought off a whole marine raid on your own, Doll.” Buggy muttered.

“I should have done something.” You said.

You spent the rest of the bath in relative silence, Buggy making a few quips to try and break the tension, unsuccessfully. When you finished, you pulled the plug and rose out of the water, pulling your towel around your body before reaching down to grab another towel you had brought to wrap around Buggy’s now clean head. ‘You even brought me my own towel? What the fu-‘

“I’ll keep your face hidden so the boys don’t see you without your makeup.” You muttered, everything you needed gathered in your arms. You sighed as you held Buggy against your torso, making sure his towel was securely hiding his face. “I know it’s hard not having it on. I can redo it before night watch,”

Buggy rested his head against you fully, “You’re too damned nice, Doll.” He whispered, watching the light change over and over again as you walked through the halls of the ship.

“Maybe your expectations are just too low, Buggy.” You whispered back, pushing your door open. When in your room, you rested Buggy on your dresser, his hair still dripping onto the towel below him. You put the rest of the stuff you held down onto the ground, turning back to Buggy with a small smile, “I’m gonna turn you around so I can change, okay, Bugs?” you muttered, stroking his cheek.

Buggy swallowed the lump in his throat, “Whatever you need, Beautiful.” He whispered, sighing as you gently turned Buggy’s face to the wall.

“I’ll try to be quick,” you muttered, the sound of you untying your swimsuit filling Buggy’s ears. “Incoming!” you exclaim with a giggle, and Buggy felt the wet slap of your bikini top hitting the back of his head.

Buggy sputtered out a laugh, “What was that for?”

You continued giggling and Buggy heard your feet patter up close behind him, the warmth of your body beating against his neck, “I was aiming for my laundry hamper. I missed.” You said, grabbing the top off of his head. “Sorry, Bugs.”

“Gimme a peek and all is forgiven, Doll face.” He snickered.

“Keep asking like that and I might,” you purred, suddenly right next to his ear, a gentle nip at one of his piercings.

Buggy felt his whole face light up immediately, “You’re killing me, Doll.” He whined. “I don’t even have hands right now.”

“I know…but you know what?” you said, still right behind the clown’s ear, “I wonder what you’d do if you did.” With that you shoved yourself away, the rustle of fabric harmonizing with your laughter.

Buggy called out your name, “You can’t just talk like that, Starlight.”

You grabbed Buggy and flipped him around on the dresser, facing you, fully dressed, “You want me to stop?” you asked, bottom lip between your teeth, inches away from his face.

“Never,” Buggy whispered. You grinned, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. The kiss was small and quick, but you pulled away with a smile. “Come on, pretty girl,”

“What?”

“You should rest up before your night watch.” He muttered, tilting his head toward your bed. “Don’t want you falling asleep on duty.” Buggy teased, smiling as you ran your fingers through his damp hair.

“On two conditions.” You giggle, drying his hair with his towel.

“Shoot.”

“One, you nap with me.”

“Done.”

“Two,” You start to laugh again, “you let me braid your hair when we wake up.”

Buggy furrowed his brow, incredulous, “You wanna do what?”

“Yeah! When we wake up, I’ll braid your hair and redo your makeup!” you explained, picking Buggy up and walking toward your bed. When you settled under the covers, you rested Buggy on your chest, still facing you. “Please?” Buggy squinted at you, unsure. “I’ll let you pick what we do during night watch!” you sing songed, nudging your nose against Buggy’s.

“Watch the nose,” he started, “But…deal.”

“I like your nose.” You whispered, a gleam in your eye.

“Bullshit.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“I think it’s pretty. Just like the rest of you.” You ran your fingers over Buggy’s face, his soft lashes brushing against your fingertips. “You know, the first time I saw you, I know you were trying to hurt us, but…all I could think about was how-“

“Ugly I am?”

“Beautiful you are.” You and Buggy answered at the same time.

“You hit your head, Doll face?” he huffed. “Cause no one thinks this mug is beautiful. My own mother didn’t think this face was worth keeping around.”

You frowned, “You talk so poorly about yourself. I happen to think you’re the most beautiful, wonderful, flashy,” you add with a grin, “man I’ve ever met.”

Buggy opened his mouth to protest again, only for you to grab his face again and shift onto your side, resting his head against your pillow in front of your face.

“Sleep, Buggy.” With that, Buggy sighed and let his eyes droop closed, lulled to sleep by your steady breathing.

“You’re gonna poke my eye out, babe.” Buggy muttered.

You laughed, easing the pressure of the brush against his face, “I just really want to match it.” You said, holding up the wanted poster in your hand.

Resuming your ministrations, applying Buggy’s crossbones, Buggy couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you have that, anyway?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, “I saw it in this girl named Kaya’s village. I try to keep up with bounties, see if I have one yet, you know? When I was looking through them, I saw yours, nice bounty by the way, and I don’t know. I wanted to keep it. In honor of the first pirate that I ran into with Luffy, you know?” you eyed the paints at your side as you mutter, “It helped that you look kinda hot in your poster.” You said with a grin.

Buggy snorted a laugh, “You’d look great on a wanted poster, Doll.” He sighed under the cool feeling of the paints running across his skin, “Why don’t you have a bounty yet?”

“I haven’t been caught,” you chuckled. “I’ve had my fair share of hijinks and blown up Marine ships…” you trail off with a mischievous lilt to your voice. “They just don’t know it’s me. They’ll know after Loguetown, though. They might even know after we leave Arlong Park. One of the crew members that helped defeat one of the most prolific captains in the East Blue.” You said with a chuckle.

“Oh yeah, that’d get you a good one.” Buggy smirked.

You paused, gently resting your hands in your lap. “When you get your body back…” you trail off, finding your words. “Will you help us with Arlong or are you gonna go as soon as you can?” you asked, resuming your painting with a sigh.

“I don’t-“

“You can go.” You muttered, “You don’t have to help us, you know? You don’t owe us anything, and I know the boys aren’t exactly your favorite people. We can take care of ourselves. It’s okay.” Buggy’s brows pinched together, just as his mouth opened to respond, you rested your finger on his lips with a smile, “Seriously. It’s okay.”

As you turned to get more paint on your brush Buggy spoke, “Please come with me, Doll.”

Your motions stuttered, “You know I can’t, Buggy.” You whispered, adding the finishing touches.

“I don’t want to just go about my life like you don’t exist.”

You bit your lips, grabbing Buggy’s head and holding him to your eye level, “…wait for me?”

“Huh?”

“I’ll go with you, after I find my father’s fruit in Loguetown. Find me after, and I’ll go with you. I’ll follow you to the ends of the sea, all across the Grand Line, just…wait for me.”

“How would I know you found it?” he asked.

Your face broke out into a sly grin, “Keep an eye out for my bounty poster. You’ll know I found it when I’m smiling in my picture, smiling because I’ll know that I’m that much closer to being back with you.”

Buggy nodded, setting his jaw, “I’ll see what I can do, Doll.” He agreed, “But just know,” you cocked a brow, “I’m not a patient man.”

Your smile broke out wide across your face, giving Buggy a quick peck on the lips before setting him down in your lap, facing away from you, “Now let me braid your hair. I’m thinking two Dutch braids.”

When you finished your braiding, Buggy was two minutes from falling into a deep sleep, his eyes bleary and drooping closed. He only roused from his relaxation when you started tying his bandana back onto his head.

“Your hair is so nice, Bugs.” You muttered, running your hands along your handiwork. “The color is to die for.” You said, picking him up and putting him onto the crate next to you. You stood and gathered all of your belongings off of the floor, putting them away where they belong.

“You’re one to talk,” Buggy chuckled, “you’re probably the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You eyed Buggy over your shoulder, “You mean that?”

“Of course, Doll.” You felt yourself flush as you turned away and grabbed the book you and Buggy had been reading together, shoving it into your back pocket, before coming over to him and picking him up and making your way to the deck, heading to the crow’s nest. The setting sun painted the ship in pinks, oranges, and purples.

“Hey! Clown Lady!” you whipped around to where the voice came from, seeing Zoro in all his moody glory, striding toward you two.

“She has a name, moss head!” Buggy growled.

Zoro snarled, “Wasn’t talking to you, clown.”

You frowned, “He’s still a person, Zoro. Don’t be a dick.”

Zoro looked at you, bewildered, “I’m not touching that can of worms.” He muttered. “I need the clown. Sniper boy’s lost again.” He explained, reaching his hand out to take Buggy out of your arms, aiming for his bandana.

You frowned and turned your body away from Zoro’s grasp, beginning to walk to where Usopp sat at the helm, “I can take him, thanks.” Zoro blinked a few times, trying to process what just happened before shaking his head and following you.

“Hi, Usopp! Heard you needed Buggy’s help?” you said, resting Buggy against the railing next to the wheel.

“You need to be two clicks more to the East, now, let’s go, Doll face.” Buggy exclaimed, hoping to get back to your precious solitude for the last couple days you two had left.

“Woah, hold on!” Usopp called out, trying to adjust the steering accordingly, “How far out are we?”

“Should be the day after tomorrow.” Buggy muttered, “Can I go now? We were having fun, Pinocchio.” He said nodding toward you.

“Be nice.” You hissed, flicking Buggy’s ear.

He laughed with a wince, “I am nice.”

“I-I guess that’s all I need then.” Usopp said, trailing off, “You’ve never been so…succinct.”

Buggy rolled his eyes and nudged your arm, “Let’s go, I wanna read the next chapter.”

You chuckled and agreed, “We’ll be in the crow’s nest if you need us.” You trailed off as you pattered over to the mast.

“How are you gonna tell Luffy?” Usopp muttered.

Zoro frowned, “What?”

“She’s not staying. Not long at least.”

“What are you talking about?” Zoro’s eyes narrowed, his hand reflexively trying to rest on the hilts of his swords.

Usopp sighed, letting out a quiet chuckle, “They’re in love.” He said resolutely, “She won’t stay away from him long. She’ll go with him soon.”

Zoro grit his teeth as he thought about telling his captain that you would leave. “Maybe it’s not my place. Maybe she should tell him.”

“Maybe.”

“As the battle came to a close, the princess found herself heaving for breath, dragging her battered, armored body across corpses of men better than she, trying to find her beloved knight. Her eyes stung with tears as she called out to him-“ Buggy wasn’t listening. Well, he was, but not very closely. He was more focused on your face, watching as your eyes glimmered in the moonlight, as your face mimicked the mood of the passage you read. “-she screamed up to the heavens as she held her love in her arms, begging any god who’d listen to wake him. She was inconsolable when a figure approached her-“ Buggy’s eyes roamed over you further, taking in your smooth skin, lit up by the lantern you’d brought up with you to read. Buggy’s gaze traveled over the hills and valleys of your form, your soft lips, your nimble hands, every curve and edge he could soak in. His attention lingered around your plush legs, his mouth going a bit dry. You really were beautiful.

“What do you want to do when you find it?” Buggy’s voice shocked even him; he hadn’t thought about saying anything. You stopped your reading, eyeing the clown with furrowed brows. “I mean-like what do you wanna do with your life?”

You pursed your lips and sighed, “I’m getting asked about this a lot lately.” Nevertheless, you slid a bookmark into the book in your hand and set it aside, instead taking Buggy into your grasp, setting him against your raised knees. “It’s stupid.” You warned.

Buggy rolled his eyes with a smirk, “Try me.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead opting to look at your lantern, “I kinda…I want to,” you trailed off, heat rising to your face. Buggy just nodded in encouragement, “I want to perform.” You finally spat out, squinting your eyes closed. “I’m sure it sounds silly to you, Mister Ringleader. But I want to be a performer.”

Buggy’s brain practically short circuited, could you be more perfect? “Why would I think that’s ‘silly’?”

You shrugged, “I know it’s not just as easy as wanting to do it, I guess. I know it’s a lot of work. It must sound ridiculous hearing someone talk about doing it with no experience.” You explained, nervously fiddling with one of Buggy’s braids.

Buggy chuckled a bit, “No, Doll.” He started, glad to meet your big, beautiful eyes again, “I think it’s really cool that you want to be a performer. It’s…nice.” You gave Buggy a little smile, “What kind of act do you want to do?”

You giggled and shrugged again, “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeves, but I don’t know what people would actually want to see”

“Lay it on me.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me whatcha got.”

Your face practically burned as you spoke, “Well, I learned how to fire breathe, I love acrobatics, I mean, that trapeze stuff is so fun,” you gushed, making Buggy’s heart warm, “I do a bit of dance, and I’m not a bad sword swallower, but I really like dagger throwing.”

“Yeah?” Buggy encouraged, “You sound like a little jack of all trades, don’t ya?”

You shrugged, “I had a weird upbringing. Traveled with my dad and ran into all sorts of people. I probably wouldn’t have learned half of it if it weren’t for these friends I had though.”

Buggy’s heart skipped a beat, “Who’s that?”

You beamed, “When I was fifteen, these two boys docked with their pirate crew on my island. I met them as soon as they touched ground, one of em was a right little shit and pissed me off. Tried flirting me up, so I clocked him.” You dissolved into giggles at the memory.

‘Fucking Shanks.’ Buggy thought.

“He tried fighting back, but I knocked him out cold!” Buggy smiled at the memory, “His buddy came up and tried to mediate the situation, I was so mad, I was ready to keep beating up his unconscious buddy. I only stopped and calmed down cause I thought he was cute, all worried and trying to fix things,” you giggled, making Buggy’s eyes widen. “He was awkward as all get-out, but he convinced me to chill. We sat around and talked while we waited for his buddy to wake up. When he did, we all agreed to hang out while they were there, I’d be their little tour guide and we’d have a ball together. It was so nice. They’re the ones who introduced me to performing at all.” You continued, still fiddling with Buggy’s braid, “The cute one taught me how to throw knives. He was so damned good at it too! I kept practicing all these years later in hopes that if I see him again, maybe I’d beat him in this little game we came up with. It’s basically darts but with knives.”

Buggy felt himself looking at you like you hung the moon, “We’ll have to play sometime.” He muttered. ‘Should I tell her?’

You nodded and smiled, “You’d be good at it.”

‘Yeah, I came up with it.’

“Why aren’t you performing now?” Buggy asked.

You rolled your eyes, “What’s with the third degree, Buggy?” you teased.

Buggy stuck his tongue out at you, “I distinctly remember you telling me I could pick what we do up here,” the clown mocked you.

“Didn’t think you’d pick interrogating me.” You teased. “Thought you ‘d pick something a bit more…fun.” You purred, stroking Buggy’s cheek.

Buggy swallowed dryly, “That can be…arranged.” He said simply.

You bit your lip and drew Buggy in close, drawing him in for a deep kiss. Buggy’s eyes fluttered shut as you angled your lips against his, a breathy moan coming from your throat. Buggy ran his tongue against your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth happily, meeting his tongue with yours. You pulled away just enough that you could kiss along his jaw, biting just under his ear.

Buggy hissed quietly, “Whatcha want, pretty boy?” he heard your voice in his ear, felt your teeth on his earrings.

Buggy huffed, “Want my damned body back, Doll.”

You giggled, drawing him back in for another kiss, “And in the meantime?” you mumbled against his lips.

Buggy groaned lowly, nipping at you, “Wanna make you feel good, Doll Face.”

You smiled against him, “How do you want me?” you lilted.

“Naked, preferably.” He chuckled. You threw your head back with a laugh, letting Buggy have his way with your neck for a moment. You moaned out as he found that one little spot before taking him off of you, resting him onto the floor of the crow’s nest. You eyed Buggy carefully, biting your lip before raising your tank top over your head, a new bikini covering your chest. Buggy drank you in, eyes tracking every movement and breath. He watched as you rose to your feet, unbuttoning your shorts, dragging them over your legs. When they were off, you settled back onto your knees in front of him, eyes not leaving his as you reached behind you, untying your bikini top with a simple pull of a string at your back and neck. You held the fabric to your chest for a moment after the ties came loose, a nervous look on your face, “C’mon, beautiful.” Buggy groaned, “Lemme see all of you.” You averted your eyes again as you let the top fall from your grasp and Buggy had to hold back an unabashed moan as he took in your form. You sat high on your knees, reaching a hand on either side of your bikini bottoms, ready to untie those as well. Buggy actively felt his breath be stolen as you slipped the fabric off of you, the lantern’s light flickering over your bare body made you look positively heavenly.

You took Buggy in your hands, slipping his bandana from his head, “Mind if I undo your hair?” you ask quietly. Buggy nodded, “Wanna run my fingers through it.” You whispered, setting Buggy back down between your legs, facing away from you. Buggy felt the heat of your body all around him as you gently raked your fingers through his blue locks, a slight wave from the braid making you smile, “You’re so pretty, Buggy.” You mutter, “Bet you’re pretty all over.” Buggy felt his whole body tense, miles away. You’d be the death of him.

When you finished unraveling his hair, you grabbed him again, taking him to eye level before drawing him in for a chaste kiss, “How do you want me?” you asked again, laying kisses against Buggy’s lips all throughout him speaking.

“Want-mm-want you on-dammit Doll-put-just put me-“ Buggy let out a low groan, “Lay me down and get on top, beautiful.” He muttered, finally catching his breath. You flushed, but complied, resting Buggy down onto the wooded ground, hovering above him on your knees. Buggy’s mouth watered a bit at the sight of your glistening core above him. You looked at the clown’s head between your legs and hummed, reaching a hand down to run your fingers through the soft hair on his head, “Sit.” Buggy groaned.

Your eyes shot wide, “Huh?”

Buggy rolled his eyes, “Sit down.” He said like it was obvious.

You scanned his face for any signs of not wanting this, “Are you sure?”

“Sweetheart, sit down on my damned face before I start trying to jump.” He droned, not even batting an eye.

You sighed, covering your warm face with your free hand, but lowered yourself down onto Buggy’s eager mouth. He got right to work, tongue reaching up to your clit, a sharp gasp coming from your lips, your grip on his hair tightening. Buggy just smiled and continued, lapping away at your core above him, the taste of you making him moan into you. Buggy felt your hips buck forwards a bit, a stifled groan ripping out of you as your clit bumped his nose. Buggy shuffled slightly, moving to where you could run your clit against it every time you moved, quickly pushing his tongue into you, feeling like heaven for you as you moved your hand so you could bite your knuckle.

“God, Buggy.” You whined. Buggy hummed into you, the vibrations making you moan into your hand, “Keep going.” You didn’t have to tell Buggy twice. Frankly, Buggy would be fine to stay down there for as long as you’d let him. He’d stay, clenched between your thighs for hours, he’d die down there, suffocated by you, and he would probably say thank you. He drank in your moans as he ran his tongue along your slick walls, trying to dedicate the sound to memory.

Buggy had an idea. A silly, possibly weird idea. He detached his tongue, diving even deeper into you, a muffled cry of ecstasy above him as he searched around. You whimpered as he found it, and Buggy began simply bullying your g-spot, poking, prodding, licking it like it was his job. You rolled your hips against his face, huffing and puffing above him. “So close, baby.” You muttered, “Kee-keep going, Buggy.” Buggy was a very attentive listener when he wanted to be.

Buggy kept up the pace, craning his neck up a bit to bump against your bundle of nerves on his nose, matching your rocking motions, drawing moan after moan out of you. When he felt your nails dig into his scalp, Buggy grinned, picking up the pace a bit, relishing in your whines.

Suddenly, Buggy felt your thighs clamp around his head, your walls fluttering around his tongue, a delicious gush of your arousal dripping into his mouth. Buggy kept up his ministrations through your orgasm, letting you ride it out. When it subsided, Buggy didn’t let up, trying to draw out another from you.

You whined at the overstimulation, but still rolled your hips over his face, your whole lower body twitching with anticipation. The second orgasm hit you like a truck, and you had to slap your hand over your mouth to silence an absolute scream from ripping out of your throat. Still Buggy didn’t stop, trying for a new record or something, you were sure, his tongue swirling inside you, sending jolts straight to your clit that rubbed deliciously against his round nose with every movement, as soon as your second orgasm subsided, a third sent you reeling, tears falling from your eyes, grip impossibly tight on Buggy’s hair as a silent sob racked through you.

As you came down from your high, you had to rip Buggy’s head away from you, toppling over onto all fours over him. He just grinned, his tongue still detached, soaking in your fucked out expression, mixing up the pattern of his abuse inside you. You whined and rolled onto your side, hands diving between your legs. To try and take it out? To help for number four? You didn’t even know, practically fucked dumb as you clamped your thighs together, your eyes meeting Buggy’s as tears still streamed down your cheeks, you grabbed the clown’s head and drew him into a sloppy kiss, maybe to distract yourself from the overwhelming sensation, his lips eagerly meeting yours as you rapidly drew circles over your clit, drawing out one more, ‘Just one more’, you promised yourself.

You shook as you came, ripping your lips from Buggy’s and throwing your head back, “Please, Buggy.” You begged, reaching another hand down to try and reach into yourself. Buggy gave you a shit eating grin as he watched you practically fuck yourself trying to grab out his elusive tongue. You writhed as you rolled onto your stomach, face down, ass up as you kept reaching two fingers deep inside of you, your arousal dripping all over the floor under you. You whimpered and moaned, number five making you rake your free hand over the wooden floor, “God, Buggy!” you moaned out, “Too much!” your knees spread out under you, a pretty presentation for the clown who watched the whole display, desperately hard wherever his body was.

You ground your hips into your hand as you reached your second hand back down, desperately running your fingers over your clit, your cheek pressing into the ground under you. Buggy watched your frantic movements, the way your tits rocked back and forth with you and God, if he could fall even deeper for you, he did right then. “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” you whimpered, collapsing as you writhed and practically humped your own hands, fingers still searching for Buggy’s tongue deep inside you. “Buggy.” You moaned out, “one more, then you get out of me.” You whined, frantically circling your hips, your movements jolty as you fucked yourself deeper.

Buggy chuckled at your predicament, in love with watching you unravel for him.

“I mean it.” You hissed, flipping yourself to sit up for Buggy, leaning against the wall of the crow’s nest, a pool of your sweat and arousal forming under you. You looked deep in Buggy’s eyes as you shoved a third finger in, knuckle deep. You moaned pornographically, trying to be quiet, and bucked up your hips again.

Buggy moaned as he watched you reach the hand that was just on your clit up and grasp at your breast, squeezing it and rolling the nipple between your fingers, your eyes fluttering shut. You picked up the pace as Buggy started to somehow find it in him to run his tongue along your walls harder, faster. Biting your lip as your eyes rolled back in your head, your whole body shaking with the force of your orgasm, you gasped out as you squirted out onto the floor, a hopeless sob leaving you as you took your hand out of you, letting both of them rest next to you.

Then and only then did Buggy let his tongue slither out of you, licking a long stripe up your vulva, circling your clit a final time, making you twitch and groan, before opening his mouth and letting it reconnect.

“How’d I do, Doll Face?” Buggy huffed, ears roaring with his rushing blood.

You simply raised up a middle finger at him, a soft chuckle falling from your bruised and swollen lips. Buggy grinned as you picked him back up, laying a peck on his lips, “Holy shit, Buggy.” You huffed. “What the fuck else can you do?”

You ran your fingers gently through Buggy’s hair in your room, humming a little tune. You settled deeper under your covers, eyes drooping with the sway of the waves, settling Buggy more securely against you, the back of his head resting against your breasts comfortably.

“Gave myself the blue balls of a lifetime.” Buggy grumbled, making you bark out a laugh. “Seriously.” He whined.

You shook your head and flicked his ear, “You picked what we did.” You chimed.

“I know. It’s my own fault, but I couldn’t help it. Having you ready and willing all sexy and worked up? Couldn’t resist.” He sighed, “And now I’m suffering because of it.”

You giggled and stroked Buggy’s cheeks with your hands, “Just means I owe you one-“

“-or six.”

“-when you get your body back.” You purred, “Think you can wait that long, Buggy?”

Buggy’s face flushed with heat as he stammered, “Fucking hell, Doll! You’re making it worse!” You just grinned, “I swear, next time I see you, I’m showing you everything I can do when I’m not just a head.” He hissed.

“Looking forward to it, Bugs.”

“At this rate, I’m gonna have to tell Pinocchio to pick up the fuckin pace.” Buggy glowered, yelping as you flicked his ear.

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | extras | Mick and Yn create a playlist together

― Summary: Yn and Mick are still threading through their feelings, none of them yet aware of how deep it is. Some say that actions speak louder than words, but guess songs do too sometimes. ― Word count: 1.3k ― A/n: This can be read as a stand-alone, but it’s better when you’ve read the series. ― Warnings: mention of food; tooth aching fluff.

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“I created the playlist,” Yn shares once she finds Mick in the garage. It’s close to lunchtime, and some of the crew are already leaving to eat at the paddock cafeteria. George is pointing something to Mick on the computer to which he simply nods before turning to Yn. “I just sent you the Spotify link,” she adds.

His eyes take her in and he nods again. He wants to say a lot of things, how beautiful she looks, how he missed her the whole morning, how boring it felt without her laugh, how happy he is that she created the playlist, that way he’ll have yet another excuse to text her, but he just nods. A lot of the things that are going through Mick’s mind are making him choose to keep his lips sealed. He knows each little thing can and will be pointed to by his friends as catching feelings.

The worst thing is that he believes that maybe it is true.

Maybe he is falling for Yn.

His friend’s sister. 

His co-worker's sister. 

“What playlist?” George asks, poking his head in their direction and Yn rolls her eyes playfully.

“It’s nothing, you’re a driver, not a reporter, you don’t need to know everything,” her retort makes Mick throw his head back in laughter and even Russell himself can’t contain the snicker.

“You’ve been walking too much with Lando, you’re getting sassier,” the British points while taking off the headphones from around his neck.

“As it happens, I’ve actually been walking a lot with you, George.” 

Mick snickers watching the whole interaction the way you watch a tennis match, head going from one side to the other to catch the faces the duo is making. 

“Anyways, I gotta go have lunch, you two have fun,” Russell patted Yn’s and Mick’s back before leaving them alone in front of the computer.

“Are you having lunch in the cafeteria with everyone?” he asks but what he really wants to say is: would you like to have lunch with me? 

Yn shakes her head, “I ordered lunch.”

“Oh-”

She adds before Mick can say something else, “I ordered two…you said you wanted to try that salad last time, and I thought-”

“Awesome! So we go through the songs while we eat lunch,” Mick has a small smile on his pink lips, whereas he’s jumping up and down inside. 

Yn nodded, starting the track to one of the meeting rooms she used to work while in the garage. Mick is right behind her, and the silence until they reach the door is peaceful. Yn left the package by the table along with two bottles of water, but they settled on the couch sitting in front of each other. Shoes discarded on the ground, legs crossed.

“I already added one song, I’m sorry,” Yn starts and Mick nods, silently asking her to continue. “Die Hard, by Kendrick Lamar.”

“This song is amazing!”

“Do you like it?” Yn asks, smile wider this time, and Mick nods.

“Can I add Lost by Frank Ocean?” the blonde asks and Yn jumps up and down while still sitting. 

“Yes!! Absolutely!!” 

She digs her fork into the food before taking a bite. Mick sips his water, and then asks, “So, you add one I add one? And we only add the ones we agree on or? How’s this gonna work?” 

“I think we can make a mix, no need to agree, we will listen to everything afterwards and then we can talk about the ones we never heard before… that is if you agree.” 

“Well, I’ve never made a shared playlist like this before, so yeah, I agree.” 

Yn smiles, “I do them all the time with Lewis, he hasn’t surrendered to Taylor Swift quite yet, but I always try,” Mick chuckles. “Anyways, I think we should add some classics like It Wasn’t Me, we were listening to it that day in the car, you remember?” 

“Yeah, you sang that Mick song too.” 

“Oh, Mick, you’re so fine, so fine you blow my mind,” she sang teasing him and the German rolled his eyes playfully, a flush creeping from his neck to his ears.

“Does she actually sing Mick?” he’s truly curious.

Yn shakes her head, “But I do,” the way she winks at him makes his stomach roll and feel cold in a strange yet good way. “She sings Mickey, but I think Mick fits better, don’t you think?” 

Mick is at a loss for words, so he chooses to stuff his mouth with lettuce and shrug instead of answering. How could he answer? Were they flirting? What the hell was this feeling in his stomach? 

“I propose we add the songs and go through it in real-time. Open the app there,” she points to his cell phone and Mick does as she says. 

“You just added Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls,” he states and taps his fingers on the screen adding Tennessee Whiskey, watching Yn as she furrows her brows.

“I’ve never heard this one.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, I don’t know much about Country music,” she confesses.

“I’ll add my favorite ones for you.” 

Yn smiles at him.

They go about eating and adding songs to the playlist. There’s a smile and a giggle here and there, sometimes laughter, and frowns with the unknown songs. 

Yn is sipping her water and looking at the phone, when she sees a new song pop on the list, “What does ‘schön’ mean?” 

“I’m adding some German songs for you,” Mick explains, but Yn is not satisfied with the simple answer.

“‘Mkey, how do you say this?” 

“Sch-ön,” he slowly mouths and she giggles.

“With kissy lips?” Mick nods. “Man, you Germans are kinda cute. You make kissy faces every time there’s a word with this thingy?” 

“Umlaut,” he explains, holding back a chuckle. “And yeah, kinda.” 

“So…what is this song about?” Yn asks, hitting play.

Mick watches as Yn bops her head to the rhythm, a grin on her plush lips and her eyes closed.

Du bist schön und es macht Spaß, dich anzuseh'n

(So schön)

Du bist schön und meine Augen sind verwöhnt

(Verwöhnt)

Du bist schön, uh, du bist schön

“What is he saying, Mouse?” 

“You are beautiful, and fun to look at. You are beautiful and my eyes are… spoiled,” he tries to focus on the lyrics, but the second her eyes open and they find each other the song becomes mere background noise. “You’re beautiful,” this time his voice is a bit softer.

“Did he sing that again?” 

Mick shakes his head, notices what he just did, and then nods. 

“Yeah, it’s… it’s a simple song, it’s a good choice if you want to start learning some words in German.” 

They go about adding songs in silence again, until Yn jumps from the couch hitting play on yet another song, “Oooh, this one’s good, you’ll like it!” 

“Taylor Swift?”

“You were able to identify, that’s a good start. Yes. This one’s called Karma, it totally has your energy, Mouse.” 

Mick furrows his brows in confusion and Yn starts walking around the room while explaining to him the story behind the music which took them over twenty minutes, but the Schumacher wasn’t bored, quite the opposite, he listened to everything, asking one question here and there, and chuckling at her enthusiasm. 

It’s only when Lewis texts Mick telling him lunchtime is over that they wrap up their conversation, agreeing on adding songs to the playlist whenever they find something the other might like or should see. 

“Thanks for lunch. Guess I owe you dinner now, huh?” 

Yn sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, and Mick’s eyes drop slightly following the motion. 

“Yup,” she nods. “See you in a few, Mouse.” 

And when the door closes behind the blond Yn sighs. Her brother would have to forgive her. Not liking Mick was getting harder and harder. 

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! A huge shout out to my ☕️anon for proofreading this piece so quick ❤️ Don’t forget to reblog and comment, and follow me if you liked it!

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[strniohoeee]

hey, can you do some fluff like yn has anxiety, and Matt helps her, thanks @stupendousoperatorwolfathlete

Tightening

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N is suffering from anxiety silently until Matt takes notices and talks with her🫂

Warnings⚠️: None just mentions of anxiety. I would say this is more of a blurb because it’s really short, but hope you enjoy still🫶🏽

Song for the imagine: I’m God- Clams Casino, Imogen Heap

It’s what

I think

Bite tongue, deep breaths

I was sitting with Matt watching The Breakfast Club when suddenly my thoughts started to race. This has been happening to me frequently. I would wake up feeling anxious and sick, and I would try and focus on something else. It would work for a while, but then that feeling came back

These last two days I’ve been suffering from the worst anxiety of my life. I couldn’t exactly pinpoint what was causing it because my thoughts were just constantly racing. I felt the feeling creep up behind me working its way from my stomach up to my heart and chest and then into my brain

My breathing would quicken, and I would shut my eyes as my hands began to shake. I tried my best to calm myself down doing everything Matt would tell me to do in instances like this. Usually it would work, but these last two days it hasn’t been working the best

I sat next to Matt glancing over at him to make sure he couldn’t see me freaking out. I loved Matt, but I hated being a burden as far as my anxiety. He had his own anxiety to worry about, and I didn’t want mine to affect him at all

My breathing began to pick up, my chest rising and falling rapidly. My hands began to shake and my stomach began to turn. I tried my best to calm myself down. Shutting my eyes and breathing in through my noses

Suddenly I let out a sigh that I didn’t mean to, and Matt instantly looked over at me concern written all over his face

“Are you okay?” He asked pausing the movie

“Yeah I’m good, sorry” I said in a whisper

“That was an anxious sigh, I know you babe. What’s wrong?” He asked me turning towards me more

“I’m okay I promise” I said giving him a smile

“Talk to me” he said grabbing my hands to stop them from shaking

“I’m not so sure. I just have been feeling really anxious these past two days, and for no reason. I don’t want to burden you with this” I said shaking my head

“This isn’t a burden at all if there’s anyone in your life who can really help you it would be. Don’t ever feel that way” He said smiling at me with sad eyes

“I know, I just hate this feeling and I wish it would go away” I said swallowing thickly

“Well what’s on your mind?” He asked me

“I don’t know, I always feel like I should be doing more with my life, I feel like I’m slowly becoming a failure and I feel like you’ll leave me because you’re going to get bored. And then I think about the future. Where will I be? What will I be doing? Are you there with me? It just keeps my mind racing” I said letting a tear slip

Matt wiped my eye

“Baby I will never leave you okay. You’re not a failure and you never will be. You have done so many amazing things and you continue to do amazing things. And as far as the future goes, you can’t control that okay. You have to stop worrying about controlling what’s out of your hands. We just have to live everyday one by one and see where the wind takes us” he said giggling at his corny little metaphor

“You’re right. I’m sorry there’s no reason for me to be this way” I said giggling too

“It’s normal okay. Every human being feels this way from time to time, and that’s okay. Never struggle with this alone I will always be right here for you I promise my love” he said pulling me and hugging me

“Thank you Matt truly for everything. You make everything better” I said pulling away from the hug and kissing him gently

“I love you too. Just how you’re my rock I’m your rock too” he said smiling at me

“I love you” I said blushing and looking away for a second

“My beautiful girl what would I without you” he said pulling me and snuggling me in closely

“You’re too good to me” I said nuzzling in closer to Matt’s chest

He placed a kiss on my forehead, and unpaused the movie. Matt and I finished the film and decided to go for a drive to enjoy the scenery and get something to eat

It was so crazy to me how Matt made me feel so safe, and instantly was able to make me feel better about myself.

He’s the love of my life.

The End

I hope yall enjoyed this one! And I’m sorry it was short, but I’m not too sure how to make something like this lengthy. I also have two other imagines like this on my page, so I don’t want to get redundant🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[chinomiko]

hi! i know it must be kinga boring for you recive questions about castiel bc ppl are obsessed ober him for years but like the other person who asked you a few days ago, i follow you (and ply mcl) for like 10 years and ever since day one my fav boy has been tiel. till this day at the age of 22 he's my favorite and my comfort boy so i joke that he's not a fictional character anymore for me and that i know him personally at this point lol

with that being said, i bet you can imagine that over the years i've been elaborating his personality beyond what the game gives us but he's your boy, you created him therefore you know him and your word is canon, so i'd like to ask a few stuff!! nothing too big, dont worry but here we go.

tiel is an amazing songwriter and since he's very emotional not very good at express it (he does it a lot better now that he's an adult 🥹) i bet his lyricism is very deep and poetic so i have this headcanon that he at first wouldn't like taylor swift because obviously lol but then he payed attention to her lyrics and ends up basically being a swiftie since he likes her writing a lot. what you think about that?

and what kind of music crowstorm sings? like there are any bands that you listen and think "hey this would be in a crowstorm album!" (i have a playlist with this name btw lol). im probably wrong on this one but since this is my fav band i like to think that catfish and the bottlemen are the irl crowstorm, musically speaking

and the last one: another thing that gives me so much comfort is the lystiel friendship. not having present parents, being so closed off i know that lysander is such an important presence on tiel's life because he was basically the only close person he had (specially after the debrah fiasco); if lys didnt had taken the farm and went to college and bla bla bla do you think he would still be part of the band with castiel? im not sure if im mixing the canon with a fanfic i read a while ago (lol) but the band was more of a fun thing to lys, right? he liked writing most (i always imagined him getting into a literature degree or something like this). i also like to think that he helps tiel with lyrics at times, even if he's out of the band (in my head the canon is that they are best friends and pretty close till this day, i pretend lys never left our lives just like armin)

anyways sorry for this big ask 😭 i dont even know if you will read it all but if you do, thank you! and dont feel like you have to answer, i know its too much its just that mcl is my hyperfixation till this day like for real, i have a fanfic that i write still and i even plan on making it into a book sometime. except from the main characters (who is my oc) all the characters will be based on the game's ones :)

ilysm take care and stay hydrated!!

Hellow !

Aww thank you so much and for all your love for Castiel ^^

What a long ask, I'll try to answer in order.

Castiel being a swiftie. No sorry, I don't think he would be. If candy likes her, I'm pretty sure he would try to listen. Also he is an open minded person for sure, so I'm sure he would be curious to listen and study what all the hype is about, it could also help as some sort of far away inspiration, but I don't see him being a fan.

What kind of songs Crowstorm sings This is hard to answer because my musical knowledge is pretty limited and I'm sure I would miss on lot of potential groups or singers that would fit well. And it would require too much research time to have a real detailed and clear answer, but I still did check a bit and here is a little list of songs/groups that I think would have a fitting vibe for Crowstorm

City of the dead - Hollywood Undead The worst in me - bad omens Paranoid - I prevail Trauma Just pretend - Bad omens Ice Nine Kills - A grave mistake Catfish and the bottlemen sounds nice but I think its a bit too soft for what I imagine for Crowstorm.

What is his voice like I think something similar to this (not necessarily the song itself, just the voice. )

bonus, I think this song is so so fitting for Castiel's breakup song, I love it. Dial Tone - Catch your breath

Castiel and Lys friendship. It was'nt mentionned much in UL/LL because I didnt wish to bring too much drama by mentioning Lys when he was not there for the players, but of course Lys and Cast always kept in touch. It is very clearly mentionned in Lys' AL that they keep in touch, that Lys helps Castiel write songs and Cast also like to come to his farm to have a break and spend time together. You should play it if you havent, you'll have a good chunk of Cast and Lys friendship :) However yeah I can confirm that Lys would not like to do it serisouly and professionally, but he'll be all the way around to support and help Cast.

[mrsnancywheeler]

Okay the same reader as the fight one but imagine if someone in the band sees how much they fight and offers to take her off his hands…or goes to her about it

long blurb with mentions of drinking, drugs, smoking, and nsfw topics

me about to write another long ass blurb, but thinking about eddie pining after reader and always watching, thinking about how she could do so much better then billy fucking dunne

you're always fighting and leaving until billy calls you back or you get bored again so you show up. rarely is there apologies, sometimes he tells you that your his muse and he needs you around as some sort of half apology to say you're not replaceable with just any groupie. but you let it work on you because when things are good, they're good, he's kind, and loving, so sweet, but the bad is the worst it possibly could be. and for how you tell yourself you've always known he wouldn't pick you forever, wouldn't settle down and that you were okay with that, you just know you're lying to yourself. because when you find out that last fight you had where you stomped off afterwards and spent a couple of hours sitting in a diner crying, billy was busy getting sucked off my some other groupie, you think this might be your limit. for all you've said you'd never actually even dreamed of even looking at anyone else and the pain in your chest is so immense. it only gets worse as you listen to billy and the rest of the band perform some song her wrote about you, a confirmation of his feelings without him having to commit face to face with you. it makes your blood boil when he's singing about how regardless of everything he'll always pick you, always want you.

so when everyone finishes and he's smiling looking over at you with a, "so, what'd you think, baby?" and you pull out that slow clap you hope he knows he's done fucked up because the rest of the band sure does. and he doesn't ask if you're okay or look too concerned, just annoyed, scoffing slightly, "what now?"

"I think you're a liar and the whole thing is fucking bullshit!" You announce

"don't do this right now, we're trying to rehearse." his frustration only serves as fuel to your fire, and you look around the room to see the awkward glances around the room, eddie glaring holes into the back of billy's head.

"what? do you want me to say you did a great job, give you a kiss and hug, and then scamper off so some other girl can suck you off? is that what you want billy?"

"not right now. if you're not gonna sit there and do what you're good at, then get out of the studio. go spend some of your daddy's money, you'll get over it."

his dismissivness makes you want to scream. how dare he. why did you have to fall for someone like him? "like you've said, I'm sure you can find some other groupie to give you praise and attention. you're the fucking worst, billy."

you're storming out of the room, followed by his voice, "you're not the only pretty girl! one of so fucking many!"

you don't know how long you've spent sitting on the cold cement, back up against the building as you smoke a cigarette. trying desperately not to cry because you just want him to love you the way movies told you men loved. but this wasn't a movie, he was a fucking rockstar and you were in fact just another groupie who he was sick of. the way you wanted to cry was embarrassing and you quick wiped away any stray tears when you heard footsteps approaching.

"mind if I join you?" and there was eddie, trying to give a comforting smile. you shook your head and he sat down, your offered him a cigarette which he took, for a while it was silent. "you deserve better."

you laughed, "yeah, maybe." no, you knew you did, but you didn't want better. you were too attached to billy dunne. "did he call some kind of break or did you just storm out? bet he'd love that."

eddie chuckled, he loathed billy, so the latter would've been just fine with him. "called a break." you thought about how right now billy was probably busy getting fucked by some other girl, some other groupie who had patiently waited her turn. you didn't mean to sniffle, but you did. suddenly eddie's lips were on yours, you wanted to lean into the soft, loving comfort but you couldn't. it felt wrong.

"eddie-" you muttered as you pulled away.

"he doesn't see you like I do, you deserve to be treated so much better, and he's stupid for not being able to see that. just because he's the lead singer doesn't mean you have to be stuck as his groupie, especially when he treats you like you're disposable."

"eddie, I can't do that to him. it's wrong."

"he does everything he can with other girls except fucking them, you're allowed to have something."

"well, I'm just me and he's billy goddamn dunne."

"he's just billy dunne, and you're strong, perseverant, beautiful, funny, compassionate, the whole damn package." you snort through the laughter which makes him smile, and you feel bad because he's sweet, you like him, but you've had a taste of billy and are desperately trying to hold onto ship. "he's too lucky, let me give you what you deserve-"

"what's going on?" billy's voice interrupts the rest of eddie's speech that you honestly might have fallen for, if you focused on the actually being able to constantly feel appreciated by some someone. eddie glares at the other man.

"we're talking." you say softly as billy walks closer. he holds a hand out to you expectantly.

"come inside with me, baby. let's talk in private." eddie's eyes are urging you to refuse, to stay with him, but you don't heed the look. so you take billy's hand a and let him lift you off the ground.

and it's hard to miss the way eddie gazes at you after the that, the way he comforts you post arguments and reminds you not to take it to heart, and you feel bad that the way you burn for billy is a forest fire compared to the way you burn for eddie. and he spends his days waiting for you to realize billy was never worth the struggle and to have him instead.

@nomorespahgetti

[purplemagics-blog]

MY LOGAN HOWLETT/WOLVERINE HEAD CANONS!!🐱🚬

LMAOO JUST SO YALL KNOW HALF OF THERES IS JUST LOGAN ACTING LIKE A CAT😭

Oh yeah and most of these take place in Deadpool and Wolverine before and after everybody in the X men died

1.) When no one is looking Logan sits in box’s like a cat. Ones Scott walked in on him doing it and to this day is still teasing him about it.

2.) When someone is taking a picture of him his eyes glow like when someone takes a picture of a cat.

3.) An actual mess when drunk to the point of crying. Ones Wade had to carry him bridal style out of bar cuz the bar called him so be could get “a man that is just sitting there crying while drinking a bottle of whiskey”

4.) Holds onto grudges harder than the average person. Once Wade accidentally spilled wine on his new white sweater and he didn’t talk to Wade for 5 months.

5.) Sometimes when bored Wade will take out a laser pointer and Pointed at the wall as he watches, Logan try to catch it and destroy the apartment in the process.

6.) at one point Wade forest Logan to go to therapy a.k.a. Wade dressed up like some old therapist and sat Logan down on the couch.

7.)Logan sleeps in Wade’s room cuz be doesn’t want to be alone when he is having nightmares/flashbacks.🥹

8.) speaking of nightmares and flashbacks Wade comfort, and holds Logan in his arms when he realizes he is not in the nightmare anymore.

9.) Logan is very paranoid and deathly scared of pickles and tinfoil like a cat LMAOO. (Wade knows this and takes advantage of this every single time)

10.) Logan is embarrassed by the smallest things but acts like it doesn’t affect him.

11.) Logan has a “white girl playlist” with Taylor, Swift, and Katy Perry on it.

12.) speaking of music he listens to Arctic Monkeys and his favorite song by them is “sex, drugs, etc.”

13.) Ones Scott took his box of cigarettes and Logan begged on his hands and knees to give it back.

14.) In the “worst Wolverine” universe he was fighting with Jean for Scott like how he was fighting with Scott for Jean in other universes and that night when he went to the bar and got shit faced. He finally gathered enough courage to ask Scott out but by the time he was there everyone was dead and he still beats himself up mentally for being to much of a pussy to ask him out before. :( (Sorry had that one in my mind for a while just needed to tell someone about it)

15.)He loves pancakes. Like you don’t even understand HE LOVES PANCAKES A LOT! (Especially Scott’s pancakes🥹)

16.) He takes game night a little too seriously. Like if he catches you cheating he’s going to fuck you up LMAO. Also, no matter what he will not let everyone quit until the game is over.

17.) Reads cooking magazines in his free time. He cannot cook.

18.) speaking of cooking this man is absolute dog shit at cooking😭🙏🏽 this man can’t even make a grilled cheese without burning the kitchen down. (And he may or may not act like he doesn’t know how to cook something he does cook just so Scott can cook it for him)

19.) He acts like he listens to country music even though he can’t name one song.

20.) He needs reading glasses but he just refuses to wear them but Xavier after some pushing and convincing got him to wear ✨contacts✨

21.) FUCKING LOVES CATS. But he acts like he doesn’t.

22.) fucking hates doing the laundry tbh hates doing any chores.

23.) Purrs when he has a good dream!

24.) Needs at pillowcases and his bed like a cat.

25.) his bed is more like a nest but he fully denies it saying it’s just for to keep warm. What I mean by nest is pillow, pillowcases, blankets old clothes just laid across his bed like a nest where he just sleeps in the middle of all of it.

26.) Even if he comes home covered in blood she will still lay in bed and go to bed if he’s tired, no matter how dirty he is.

27.) at this point is not faced by gore.

28.) if one of the X-Men members gets a cat, he will ask them to pet sit for them while they’re on missions. 

29.) Loves when his partners sit in his lap.

30.) 100% AT LEAST IN ONE UNIVERSE POLYAMOROUS WITH JEAN AND SCOTT!!

OK, that’s all I got, but I post a part two if I come up with more 

Honestly, same 

[not-goldy]

Why do I feel we're being played? Like these grown men get bored, hop online, decide to cause chaos & dip just to watch the timeline burn. SIGH And when it happens here go shippers arguing the same thing. My ship is real. No mine is. Jk's telling us something. No he's telling us something. Tae's telling us something. No he's telling us something. Same copy/paste argument. Tae drops a song Friends knowing he has Friends with Jimin with his sus obsession writing songs for Jimin in the past, while posting a Tk account to his IG and its Vmin vs Tkk. Not to be outdone by Jk who likes a Tk edit, while simping over Jimin in comments and its Jkk vs Tkk. And everyone knows they're fighting the same argument but don't care. What are you doing? Stop it. And I hate to call them out, but its Tae and Jk the ones for several months specifically engaging with shippers on both sides.

All I gotta say is Jimin baby, keep minding your business, you're doing amazing, sweetie. Now because of that follow & unfollow from Jk on an account with Jimin's name, he is the one being mocked. Not even 2 seconds after they realized Jk unfollowed that account, the mocking & name calling started. If I were Jimin I'd snatch that damn phone outta Jk's hands and tell him to start paying closer attention to stuff regarding me. That man is just trying to serve his time in peace & Jk caused him to catch a stray cause he can't stay off Jimin pages. Lord have mercy.

Fascinating

Wish I was bothered😩😩😩😩😩😩🤣💀

Jikook do worst things than this.

If he unfollowed its cos someone made him aware he'd followed and was creating a mess in the Fandom. To that person I say- snitches get stitches 🔪

But if it's content he's consuming does it even matter?? Bro watching himself gawk at Jimin while Jimin bringing him to edge of nutting- does it matter if he likes or follows the account?

We've been saying for years those two a very much aware of the shipping narratives the gay expose and they don't care- unlike straight celebs who get so offended they start staying away from eachother and roasting eachother.

Watch Jungkook knowing damn well just how gay we think he and JM are with eachother come out and say his favorite moment from MS was a night he and JM slept arm in arm naked to keep themselves warm. Watch him come out to say he's limping cos JM manhandled his balls.

When I tell yall he knows what he's doing when he says things like this bite mark on my neck is from Jimin or let's eat Ramen or Jimin can handle all this.

He can't stay off JM pages sounds about right.

Let me not catch anyone throwing Jimin in the mix dude drinking water staying hydrated and working out his glutes

Hold on brb