#this is just straight romance novel lol

[kingofthe-egirls]

Psssst, you okay with writing a Luffy smut short? Surprise me, add your own prompt and twist love❤️

Hmmm ok! I’m in love with Luffy so im always ready to write about him lmao

(cw: modern au, livestreaming on PornHub, onlyfans, camming, rich!luffy, food mention, trashy romance novel au)

(a/n: this is gonna just be me completely self-inserting myself. i need it.)

***

Your long brown hair falls over one shoulder, fluffy and tangled from under your headphones. You’ve been streaming on PornHub for a while now, having built your career with OnlyFans and livestreaming. You’re proud of what you do, albeit a little exhausted.

Hey!

Someone types a greeting, and you smile in response. “Hey there! What’s up?” You put on lipgloss, smacking your lips close to the mic in case he’s into ASMR.

I like ur smile :)

“Aw, thanks!” You click on his name to add a gold star, favoriting the newcomer on vibes alone. “Whatcha into?”

Hmmm…

He types, and you give him room. Men are typing with only one hand, usually. You smirk. “I’ve got tarot, ASMR, blowjobs, cosplay…SPH and foot fetish, although those are extra,” you meet the camera’s fisheye, but only for a moment. Eye contact is hard, even virtually.

What’s sph?

“Small penis humiliation,” you reply, clicking through your playlist. Marina and the Diamonds, today. “How To Be A Heartbreaker” is a classic, and you smile. “D’ya like being made fun of?”

Nope! But that’s okay lol

You hum.

What’s tarot?

You pick up your deck from beside you on the table: the Goblin Market Tarot, based on one of your favorite poems. You love faerie tales. “It’s a form of divination! Or just a game, depending on how you use it. But it’s cool! You can ask questions about love, career, relationships. And then the cards will tell you something specific about what’s going on!”

You shuffle the cards, shiny and periwinkle, experimentally. “Wanna read? It’s only $5 in free chat, ‘less you want a longer reading in exclusive.”

kingofthepirates has tipped you $5!

“Okay!” You say, excited. Tarot readings are your favorite. You have youtube videos and tiktoks, too. “What’s your question? I only pull one card for free chat.”

What’s for dinner?

“Ha!” You laugh out loud, “Let’s see!”

You flip over a card. Two more fall out of the deck after it, and you place them on the table in front of you. You scooch your laptop a bit farther away, to give the cards room.

“Hmm,” you say, peering over the watercolor art, “Looks like a lot, whatever it is. Ten of crowns—that’s swords—in reverse, eight of wands, and nine of platters. That’s pentacles, or earth. Which means food, material wealth, clothing, even. What d’ya like to eat? He’s got a platter of pears,” you hold up the card for the camera, grinning slightly.

Meat! Lol

“Haha, okay!” You tap on the cards in front of you. “Looks like a big party, maybe some conflict going on. Maybe a buffet? Like you’re fighting over food. But ya don’t have to be, with ten of swords in reverse, there’s plenty of food to go around. D’ya like barbecue? That’s what I’m getting.”

I do!

You sweep the cards up, and place them back in the deck neatly. “Well, that’s what I have for you! I like barbecue too, maybe I should order ribs…,” you click through your browser tabs, opening DoorDash to see what’s up.

Omg no way!!! Sanji is having a barbecue tonight!

“Sanji?” You ask, distracted, “Is that your boyfriend?” You love teasing men about having boyfriends and such, being bisexual (and nonbinary) yourself. You like tipping on the scales of heteronormativity, in whatever way you can. It makes them blush.

Nooo lmao he’s my cook! My friend

“Cook?” You ask, teasing. “What are you, rich?”

Yep!

Your eyebrows fly halfway up your forehead, but you don’t say anything. You calmly put the tarot deck away.

“I’ve never had a cook before in my life,” you cross your arms on the desk, letting your back arch so your cleavage sticks out.

It’s fun! He loves cooking and he’s the best at it. I also have a bodyguard but he’s my friend too. He likes swords ⚔️

You giggle at the emoji.

“Well, you came to the right place if y’wanna spend money,” you flirt, glittering at the camera. You’re not wearing makeup, but the pink light you have set up overhead does wonders for your skin. Plus the ring light to the side adds a couple sparkles to your eyes.

kingofthepirates has tipped you $50!

“Holy shit,” you breathe, quickly adding VIP to the stranger’s folder. “Thanks, king!” You smile, beaming at the screen. Maybe bills aren’t gonna be so bad, this week.

Let’s go to a show :)

“Gladly,” you fiddle with the collar of your robe, already itching to get undressed for this man. You hope he’s cute. “Exclusive?”

Sure 😈

kingofthepirates is requesting an Exclusive show. Accept?

You click “yes.”

Obviously.

***

The boy is very cute, as it turns out. He’s fisting his cock in one hand, camera turned on, with a sculpted abdomen and veiny forearms. His camera doesn’t show his face, but that’s normal for you. His glistening six-pack and toned arms are enough for you to get wet, grinding in your desk chair as you suck off your silicone toy.

“This is so hot,” he moans, voice raspy and sweet. His mic is turned on, which you usually hate, but this time it’s cute. Your pussy is aching, and you need his cock inside you soon.

“Fuck—,” you manage out, in between licks up the silicone shaft, “Glad you like it,” you pant.

“Love it,” he whines, playing with the bronze cockhead. His fingers are long and thick, with splotchy bruises on the knuckles. You wonder if he’s a boxer, or something. Or maybe just a troublemaker who gets in a lot of fights.

You pinch your own nipples, having teased off your silk robe at the start of the show. Now, you’re naked besides your cotton underwear that you usually keep on. Pussy’s for the OnlyFans, babes.

You’re actually turned on, too.

“Mmm,” he groans, speeding up his pace. He’s probably gonna cum soon, unless you slow down your show. You teasingly poke the cock into your mouth, stretching out your cheek. You roll your eyes up, moaning like a hentai girl.

“C-can you deepthroat it?” He asks, panting. His voice is so sexy, oh my god.

“I can try,” you giggle, and slide the cock halfway down your throat. Your gag reflex triggers, and you cough as you pull it out. “Sorry, I’m not the best at deepthroats,” you slap the toy against your cheek. He moans, anyway.

“God, you’re good,” he grips his balls with his other hand, and you notice scars up and down his arms. He also has one shaped like an X on his chest. You wonder where he got those, if he really is a reckless fighter, having adventures you can only dream of.

“What do you do?” You ask, jumping up and down in your seat. Your tits jiggle, and he groans appreciatively.

“Wish I could touch you,” his voice cracks. His hand trails up his abdomen, playing with his own nipples a bit. His hands are wide and thick, and you lick your lips.

“Me too,” you confess, genuine. He’s one of the hotter clients for you. You set the dildo down so you can play with your own tits. They’re soft and heavy, and you bounce them in your hands.

“But, ah,” he palms his cock softly, “I’m a MMA fighter. What about you?”

“Besides this?” You ask, tossing too-long hair over your shoulder. It brushes against your bare skin, and you grimace. You pull it up into a bun instead. Your eyes glitter at the camera, and your lips purse. “I make content on PornHub, OnlyFans, and other places like YouTube and stuff. Cosplay, tarot, mostly blowjobs. But not—on the wholesome places,” you breathe a laugh. “I’m kinda everywhere, these days.” You pause, unsure of what to do. “Here, let me copy and paste my username.” You send the info in chat, hoping to get an extra $5 for the OnlyFans sub.

“I’ll hafta subscribe,” he flirts, “Can I see that ass again?”

You grin, flushing slightly, as you stand up and turn around. You grab your ass in both hands, squeezing heavy flesh tightly. You bounce up and down, letting him appreciate the jiggle. Your cellulite and curves are one of a kind, you know this. Not everyone is stick-thin and spray tanned, so when customers click on your page they know they’re getting something genuine, and special.

At least, you hope.

“Fuck, baby,” he drawls out, and you turn over just in time to see him cum. Thick bursts of semen paint his clenching abs, and you hum.

“Good job,” you praise him, and he laughs. You sit back down.

“Shishishi,” he giggles, and you blush. He’s mad cute, to be honest. He fiddles with his phone, bringing it up to his face for the first time. You hitch a breath.

He’s mad cute.

“Make sure you favorite me,” you breathe, staring at his boyish features and jet black hair. His face is flushed, handsome, with a curved scar under one eye. He’s grinning at you with crinkly eyes. “S-so you can come back,” you stutter. Flustered.

Shit.

“Already did!” He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes up and down his camera. Looking at you, still bared body and soul in front of him. You wanna touch, and badly.

“Wanna hang out?” He asks, face cooling down. He grabs a towel, and wipes off his belly. He gasps, breathy, and leans back in bed. The covers are crisp and cool, almost like a hotel.

“Sure,” you breathe, ticking down to see your showtime extending. Past ten minutes, now. Fuck yeah, you think, leaning back in your own chair. “Whatcha wanna talk about?”

“Read my tarot again,” he cocks an eyebrow, “And let me know what it’ll take to get you to go on a date with me.”

***

Epilogue:

Hey 😈

He messages you on Insta, and you bite your lip. You’re sitting cross-legged at a café, having taken yourself out for a treat after your very long show this afternoon.

Hi baby 😇

You respond, too quickly. Who cares? You sip your drink, a foamy dirty chai. It tastes like cinnamon and almond milk.

Look up 👀

Frowning, you flick your eyes up and around the café. There. He’s seated across the way, at one of the square little tables situated in the center of the room. You blanch. That’s never happened before. Was there an angel of sex work watching over you?

You hope so. You gulp as he stands to make his way over to you. He’s even cuter in real life, and all thoughts of danger and serial killers and making mistakes leave your brain in one, swift breeze. You grin.

“Heya,” you say, sitting back to cross your legs. Your warm latte sits in both hands. You clear your throat. “Nice to meetcha,” you extend a hand. He takes it, smiling and warm.

“Hi,” he takes the seat across from you, pulling it out with one hand. The iron legs scrape across the granite floor. There's an exposed brick wall behind irl kingofthepirates.

"Didn't think I'd see you here," you hedge, raising an eyebrow. "Do I need to be worried?"

He blanches, eyes wide. "N-no!! I swear I'm normal. I don't--live here, I'm visiting. I have a--a match tonight! D'ya wanna come see it? I can get you VIP seats." He scoots his chair closer, looking up at you from under pretty lashes. You purse your lips.

"Prove it."

He giddily takes out his phone, a very nice smartphone with a cute charm hanging from the side. You tilt your head, and see it's a little skull-and-crossbones. You smirk.

"Here!" He hands you his phone, sliding it across the table. "It's me!"

You see a YouTube video of a wrestling match: two muscular dudes with their hands wrapped in fists. One is wearing white-and-blue shorts with pink hair, tied back with a bandana. The other is kingofthepirates, wearing red shorts with his hair loose. It’s black and floppy in spikes. He jumps up and down a bit, getting ready. The bell dings, the ref moves, and the stadium around the ring erupts in lights.

King shuffles forward, fists up, and knocks the pink-haired guy out cold. “Holy shit,” you breathe, watching the match end after only one shot. “That’s you?”

“Yep!” He grins, “We’re having a rematch this afternoon. Wanna come? I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“Sure,” you decide, not having much to lose. “Can I bring a friend?”

“Boyfriend?” He asks too soon. You sip your drink.

“Girlfriend,” you correct, arching an eyebrow. “Is that a problem for you?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, as long as we can still do shows sometime.”

“Sure,” you say, nodding. “I liked your show.”

He smiles, wide and delicious, before going back to his phone to text someone furiously. “Lemme getcha two VIP seats. I wanna see ya after the show.”

“Okay,” you hum, letting him type. You lean back in your chair, pulling up your own phone. You text Nami, your girlfriend.

Babe? Ur not gonna believe this ☠️

***

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

GIVE ME GOOD ROMANCE BOOK RECS!!! 🩷🌹🤍💐

[irritablepoe]

there are such bad analyses about booktok out there, like i hate it too but let the people read their books...

[bmpmp3]

SOME OCS for romance based visual novel that i’ll never make #35t6589387354534..... the bald girly isnt supposed to be green she’s just nameable and SLIGHTLY customizable (skintones only) so my placeholder doodles of her are always green with the little boxes beside her LOL

[twunkzilla]

Ngl I think the young adult genre actually is what got me to stop reading as a kid like as soon as I hit 6th grade I was like why is this all fucking garbage

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 7

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6 / pt8

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (SMUT)

Description: After a close call Cooper gives in to his feelings for Reader.

Notes: This chapter is half smut. For those who don’t want that I don’t think you’d miss anything of importance in the story if you skip it.

TW: p in v, unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, pretty vanilla (sorry pervs lol love you I'm just not good at smut).

His scarred lips were rough against mine, one of his hands on my hip the other tangled in my hair. This was a moment I dreamed about my entire life. Someone who cares about me was never something I thought I’d have. While having a couple of fleeting flings here and there with my brother's friends, I never had a true romance. This feeling? It was straight out of one of my novels. When he finally pulled away, I couldn't help but let out a breathy sound of dissatisfaction. He gave me a teasing smile before taking the vials from my hand and shoving them into his bag.

"Let's go find you some Radaway, Darlin'. We’ll have ya feelin' better in no time." He said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the building.

"Thank god Lucy left the door open." I thought to myself as we made our way inside. 

The place was huge and felt like a relic of the past. The rundown storefronts and flickering lights left much to be desired. I pushed my body against Cooper's back as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Noticing my discomfort, he gave my hand a small reassuring squeeze. He was still in bad shape, clear as day, as he stumbled through the building.

After some exploration, we came across a room full of bodies. "Didn't know Lucy was capable of this." I gasped.

"I imagine these fellas did most of it." He said, kicking the boot of one of the men on the ground. He was holding a gun, but it didn't seem to have done him much good. While Cooper scanned the bodies, looking for anything of value, I started to wander over to some of the other rooms. One room in particular caught my eye, some of the things inside reminding me of the medical center we found Roger in.

"Don't go far," Cooper said as he huffed another vial before rummaging through the men's pockets.

"I won't," I mumbled as I looked back at him one more time before entering the room. I swallowed nervously as I looked around the room before setting my sights on some drawers in a cabinet. After some searching, I could some syringes with the word "Radaway" written on the side. 

"Found some!" I said happily as I made my way back to Cooper to find him shoving vials of Jet into his hat. “That's so much!" I yelled in shock.

The happiness radiating from the two of us could have probably lit up a city. He looked up at me with the biggest smile I have ever seen on him before his eyes flitted to the syringe in my hand. He dropped his hat on the ground as he held out his hand expectantly. 

"Let me help you with that." He stated.

I was perfectly capable of injecting myself, but I liked the idea of Cooper taking care of me, so after a moment of hesitation I passed it to him. While he was looking over the syringe, almost like he was making sure it wasn't fake, I took the time to look over his face. REALLY look it over. His leathery tan skin and his beautiful hazel eyes. I knew that many people looked at him with disgust, but I don't think that after getting to know him I could ever think of him as anything other than beautiful. I was so lost in thought I barely registered the needle going into my arm.

"There," He said with a satisfied tone. "All better."

"Thanks, Coop." I beamed up at him. I had some Radaway, Cooper had a lot of Jet, and he finally kissed me. Everything felt perfect. 

Cooper knelt down to pick back up his hat when something caught his eye. A rectangular black box with glass on the front. 

"What is that?" I asked curiously.

"That, darlin'." He responded, a look of shock on his face, "That is a television."

I ruminated on the word, trying to figure out if I knew it from anywhere as he grabbed something and inserted it into the television. He slowly made his way to the couch and plopped down. The expression on his face was something I couldn't recognize. Amazement? I sat down next to him as I looked at the television curiously, whatever it was it was affecting Cooper. The box sprang to life, lighting up as he pressed a button on the controller he was holding. The television played a video. "Of course!" I thought to myself as I remembered the stories of moving pictures. The man on the video reminded me a lot of Cooper. The western attire, the confidence, and of course the gun he was holding. 

"Reminds me of you," I said innocently, not realizing the weight of my words.

"Nah, He ain't nothin' like me." He said quietly before looking over at me to scan my face before looking back at the video.

The man in the video was talking and I was trying to pay attention, I really was, but It was so long since I had sat anywhere but the ground, and while under normal circumstances I would call the couch uncomfortable, it felt like the most comfortable thing in that moment. I put my head on Cooper's shoulder and yawned. 

"Tired already, sugar?" Cooper teased.

"Maybe a lil' bit," I admitted. "I could stay up a bit longer, though."

"For what?" He mused, almost like he knew what I was thinking. 

I giggled, blush coating my cheeks as I whispered, "Maybe some more kissing?"

He hummed happily before pulling me onto his lap. I yelped in surprise at his sudden movement, grasping at his shoulders. “Now why would you want to kiss lil’ old me?” He was mostly joking, but an undertone of seriousness hung in the air.

“A better question is why wouldn’t I want to kiss you, Cooper? You are strong, you take care of me, you are handsome-“ I started to explain.

He scoffed, interrupting me. “I ain’t handsome.”

“You are!” I try to explain, “You have pretty eyes.” I said like I did days ago, back when he barely tolerated me. “And the way ya hold yourself is very… sexy.”

His eyes snapped up to mine, they were darkening, hungry. The embarrassment coursed through me and I could hardly stand it, so I buried my face in his neck.

“Awww getting shy, sugar?” He mocked. Before I could respond I felt his lips on my cheek. He stayed there for a moment before he started trailing down my neck, leaving tiny kisses in his wake.

I sighed happily as I pushed myself closer to him. I could’ve stayed that way forever, but Cooper had other plans. His hands were still on my hips from when he pulled me onto him. He slowly started to massage them before pressing me harder down on his lap. I let out a sound that was a mixture between a yelp and a moan.

“You like that?” He whispered in my ear.

I shook my head yes, my face still hidden in his neck.

“I wanna see you, darlin’.” He stated, his southern drawl slurred. He wasn’t demanding it, the tone in his voice was soft and hesitant, like he was worried he was going to scare me off.

Holding my breath I slowly pushed myself up. I was sure my face was red as a tomato as I made eye contact with him. When our eyes met, it felt like a damn had been released, lust flowing through me. “Coop,” I whisper before I start moving my hips on my own.

He let out a growl as he squeezed at my plush hips. “So soft.” He said.

“All for you, I’m all for you,” I say before crashing my lips into his.

The kiss was heady and passionate, I felt like I was drowning in him.

“Too many clothes,” I mumble against his mouth. Before I started to tug at his tattered duster jacket.

“I agree,” he sighed. Instead of helping me with his jacket, he ripped my hands from him and quickly tugged off my shirt, almost tearing it in the process. He sucked in a breath as he took in my bare chest. It was a sight to behold. Hair messy, half naked, and pupils blown. There was no way he could question if I wanted him, not anymore.

“God damn.” He groaned before leaning forward to kiss my chest. It’s like he wanted to kiss every inch of my body and I was starting to get impatient.

“Stop your teasin’,” I grumbled out, tugging at his jacket again.

This time, he obliged, quickly shucking it off before his hands started fumbling at his vest buttons. I cursed at him for wearing so many layers. I took this time to slide off his lap to take off my boots and pants, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. His hands stuttered as he threw off his vest and pulled off his shirt, distracted by the view in front of him.

“You, sugar, are way too good for me.” He muttered, his hands reaching out to pull me back onto his lap.

I moaned at the feeling of his rough jeans rubbing against me through my underwear. I could feel myself getting wetter, smearing my arousal on his pants. I rubbed my hands down his scarred chest before finding myself fiddling with his buckle.

“You want me?” I asked as I bit my lip. “Then take me.”

This seemed to flip a switch in him as he quickly spun me around so my back was on the couch. He hovered over me before kissing me fervidly. I undid his belt before popping open the button on his pants. He briefly pulled away from me to pull on his pants completely before slotting himself back on top of me.

“Darlin’,” he moaned as he rubbed his erection against my core.

I was so lost in the feeling I could barely respond, “Yeah?” I moaned out.

“There was more Radaway, right?” He asked. It was sweet that even in his lustful state he was still worried about me.

“Yes, Coop.” I responded, “Now fuck me already.”

He chuckled before mocking me, “So eager.”

He continued to tease me as he slowly pulled down my underwear, kissing down my legs as he went. I started to get dizzy, the arousal was becoming too much to bear. Finally, he pulled my panties off completely, kissing his way back up my body. I widened my legs as far as they could go, silently beckoning him inside of me. I heard him curse under his breath before slowly pushing himself into me. We let out moans in tandem, reveling in the feeling.

I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him down so our foreheads were knocking against each other. I looked deeply into his eyes before I started to plead, “Fuck me, Cooper. Make me feel good. Please!”

“I could never say no to you.” He whispered before sheathing himself completely, his head brushing against that sweet spot inside of me.

He gave me a peck on the lips before trailing down my neck again, sucking as he went. The idea of having marks on me that everyone would see made me moan loudly. He was claiming me as his. I started to wiggle, silently begging him to move. After a few moments, he gave in, starting slow. It was intimate, sweet even. He wasn’t fucking me he was making love to me. He had barely started but I was already a babbling mess. Repeating his name like a prayer I begged for him to go faster. It didn’t take long for him to oblige, picking up his pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The bodies on the floor were long forgotten as we got lost in each other.

“Y/n,” he groaned my name, causing me to squeeze around him. “Sugar, you keep feeling this good I’m not gonna last long.”

I was feeling too good to respond, letting out soft squeaks and moans as he pistoned in and out of me. He snaked his hand down my body to start rubbing at my clit, causing my body to tremble. I was close and he knew it, trying to get me to the edge before he arrived there himself.

“Cooper!” I cried out as I convulsed underneath him, succumbing to the pleasure. I could hear him swearing above me before he stilled, letting out one last moan as he came inside of me.

The both of us were breathing heavily. Saying we were exhausted would have been an understatement. He took a moment before starting to pull out of me. I let out a sad whimper at the lack of contact, grasping at his arms. He let out a breathy laugh at my actions. “I’ll be back.” He said, reassuring me. I watched him with half-lidded eyes as he went into the medical room for a moment before coming back to me with another syringe of Radaway.

I snorted, “That could have waited.”

He didn’t respond, instead opting to give me a smirk before sinking the needle into my arm. Once he was done he grabbed ahold of me, rolling us over so he was underneath me on the couch.

As he was rubbing reassuring circles on my back he told me, “Sleep, darlin’.”

I hummed happily into his chest before giving way to his request.

Tag list: @bruhidkjustwannaread @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @whizbang-cap @topiramateagreeable @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie @fanfictiongirly23 @gobbodoggo @erissco @helveticabold @katgirl05 @tfamidoingwithmylife @miketastic25 @alex-does-art-things

[jolynesmom]

aging yourself up or down in your dr (+ dating)

I actually refrained from talking on this topic on my tiktok since I knew I was going to get chased off the app and didn’t see a point in talking about it on tumblr since everybody here seems to be more open minded and mind their own business, until I saw multiple posts a few days ago here, where the op were shaming people for changing their age or changing the ages of people in their dr

those people definitely came from tiktok and I honestly hope this post reaches them as I didn’t want to directly interact with them

I think one of the posts was about how adults age ‘minors’ in their dr to date them is problematic, which made me laugh, because how is it problematic if they’re both the same age in their dr?

and the sad thing about that post is that the op said that they’re aware how shifting works and all that, but still finds it problematic and hopes people that do that never shift which is just… girly I hope YOU never shift because you don’t deserve it for shaming people trying to live their lives

I’m not going to go into details about the og posts, but they still have the outdated idea that if you shift for a character that is much younger than you here it’s ‘problematic’. once again: how is it problematic if you’re the same age in your dr?

and then they hit you with another outdated take ‘it’s problematic because you find them attractive here’ which is ridiculous because of so many reasons

1.many characters (especially anime characters) don’t act or look their age. if your perceived a character as an adult initially then found out they’re a minor, I simply don’t care. ages in fiction never matter, if your mind perceived x as a certain age then they’re that age idc; 99.99% people are attracted to a character for who they are, not their age

2.many people had crushes on characters when they were younger or the same age with that character and still like them. let’s boo them that their crush on the character didn’t die and their fav character didn’t age, acting like you’re not going to be in their place in a few years

‘not true I’ll stop liking my favorite character when I’m of age 😡’

okay sweetie keep telling yourself that, because I keep seeing people on tiktok that had this mentality: they liked an underage character when they were minors and wanted to shift for them, now they’re adults, haven’t shifted yet but STILL like that character and regret having said they’re gonna stop liking that character when they’re adults because it didn’t happen lol

3.people don’t always script that an underage person here will be their s/o, it just might happen. I’m actually going to use myself as an example for this: so here I’m an adult and I’m also aroace which I dislike because I always dreamed of a fantasy novel like romantic relationship, so I’m straight or bi in most of my drs so I can date. in my jujutsu kaisen dr, all the people in jujutsu tech are adults because I don’t like teens or kids and don’t wanna hangout with them. in my 30+ drs I only have 3 scripted s/os which are all adults here. I didn’t script an s/o for my jjk dr, because I want to focus more on friendships and training there (but secretly hoped choso would pick me, a girl can dream ok); a few weeks ago I channeled multiple people from my dr (yuuji, megumi, nobara, gojo, nanami and geto) and I received normal messages from all of them. I expected all of their answers, except yuuji’s answers which had romantic aspects to them. that made me realize that he might have a crush on me and maybe we’ll even date in my dr or something? who knows, I didn’t think too much about it so idk

so now if a character that’s underage here likes me in my dr, am I supposed to refuse them or shift out? lmao you’re delusional if you think I’m doing that

4.people that have never experienced adolescence love here. a lot of people dreamed of having that sweet experience of teenage romance that disney and an insane amount of shows and movies love to push, but instead their teen years were filled with abuse and hate. why shouldn’t they shift to experience what was taken from them here?

ALSO let’s switch this around: why is okay for minors to date adults in their dr, but not the other way around?

‘it’s not as bad 🤓☝🏻’

imma be the devil’s advocate and say it’s just as bad

do you genuinely think it’s okay to be a minor here and date an adult in your dr? like do you really think your s/o would feel comfortable being sexualized by a minor and dating a person that’s a minor in another reality? you lowkey forced your partner to become a pedo if you think about it 🙁 /jk

and also if you shift to a reality where you’re a minor and become of age there, you’re officially an adult and shouldn’t date minors anymore, even in your ‘original reality’ where you’re still a minor. please keep the same standards for yourself

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! CEO! Arranged! Ex-husand x AFAB! Ex-wife! Reader

Hold your horses, we're going to wattpad territory here.

I went back to reading the cliche runaway wife or stranger with them being pregnant from their one night stand with a CEO and I must say, it's making me really nostalgic.

As a small gift for myself, I'm using the name of my CEO protagonist on the novel I wrote, and his background... Actually, the whole story for this one will be just my novel's. Self plagiarism, if you will lol. There are quite the big alterations, but that's for me to know, and for you to skim over.

So, let's unlock a hidden memory especially for previous wattpad girlies, shall we?

Pause though, this is my 3rd pregnancy fic. I hate myself.

Yandere! CEO name: Iñigo Dragonov

"Father, I seriously do not need your input in my marriage!"

"You will marry the Smith's daughter and that's final!"

"But why?! I'm content with living by myself and flourishing the company! I do not need a wife!"

"How about a husband then?"

"No wives, no husbands, no spouses!"

Allastor frowned. He knew that his son is not one for romance, but he dated a handful of people, also slept around sometimes. But for the sake of his son, who is workaholic to the point he's forgetting about his health, he needs someone who would be there for him.

"Son, if you don't marry the Smith's daughter, i'm afraid I have to get back the company."

Iñigo clenched his teeth. His jaw ticking as he looked at his father with wide, feral eyes.

"You won't do that. You already gave the company to me!"

"Yes, but I will take the company back. And you know I can pull strings like no other."

That's how Iñigo married you, the Smith's daughter.

Dragonov group of Companies. Just the name itself sent shivers down the spines of aspiring and even well off businesses. They're ruthless, and dominated almost every possible market. Textile, food industry, hotels, even schools. Name it, and they'll have it.

So, with the Smith Corp being the leading company in the Fashion industry, and the Dragonov looking to integrate themselves in Fashion and not just textile, Allastor decided to have this arrangement. It's like killing two birds with one stone.

Inigo Dragonov. The perfect man and the perfect bachelor. Rich, handsome, reliable, he's someone who's a bonafide genius when it comes to business. Almost his every investment have such huge profits, and never a lost.

So why was he so adamant about marrying when it's a good strategy in order to get into fashion?

He has always thought of marriage as something so restraining. Something that weighs such a workaholic like him down. He never even thought of marrying unless his father and mother mentions it.

So when his eyes laid on you, he sneered in his heart.

He doesn't want you at all.

He's always finding faults in you.

"Why do you look so frumpy? I thought your company focuses on fashion?"

"Stand up straight. Your slouching is unsightly."

"Will you get out of my sight? Don't you have any work to do? Don't be lazy."

His words never, ever dripped of affection, only vile words of nitpicking came out.

You were tired of it. Sick and tired.

Yet you did your best to always serve your husband in all aspects. Affection, taking care of him, even intimacy. After all, he's still the one to put food on your plate. Not just any food also, but luxurious ones.

But the empty feeling on your heart persisted. You don't want this at all.

So with a heavy heart, you decided to divorce him.

As you predicted, he didn't care. He signed it, and you left the chateau.

But as Iñigo relished in the fact that he's now a single man once more and can focus on his work, you knew something he didn't.

You touched your womb.

"I'm going to take care of you myself, baby." You whispered to the unborn child on your stomach.

Iñigo clocked out of his office and sighed, feeling the tiredness cloak his body.

He felt empty. Really empty.

At first, he felt such a deep satisfaction that he can finish the job easier without you around.

Every time he comes home, nobody will pester him to eat, to take care of himself.

Nobody nosey to ask him about his day, nobody to annoy him by kissing him on the cheek...

Something invisible gripped his heart as he groaned and took off his suit jacket.

"Tedious."

He slowly walked towards the dining room and sat down at the head of the table. He started eating his dinner, feeling the emptiness reside the giant mansion.

Was his chateau always this big?

He looked over to the seat to his left where you usually sat down.

He can see the faint image of you in his memories, talking about your day and job, that he painfully ignored.

He remembered how your lips would always twitch as it fought back a frown from his lack of response.

He would watch you go silent and finish your meal quickly, before waiting for him to finish so that you could bring the plates back to the kitchen.

He would remember your tired sighs and fervent glances at him.

He went upstairs, wanting to take a shower.

The room you shared with him was now devoid of your personal touch, just leaving with a dark and modern aesthetic that looked like it was from a display in a furniture shop. It was professional, too professional.

He looked over where your vanity was once was. Now there's just an armchair and a lamp that he never really used.

He got to the bathroom and what was once filled with your bathroom essentials. Now, it was just his shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and paste, and other basic needs tucked away.

And as he went under the shower, tears started to leak from his eyes, regret gnawing at his heart.

He never realized how much he loved you.

He never realized that the reason why he was so critical of you was that he was trying to distance himself from you.

He never realized that your presence was a constant peace in his fast paced life, and that you were a part of his routine.

And now that you're gone...

He gripped his wrist, a bruise forming.

And that was his daily routine a year after your divorce.

And now, two years later, he was still the same.

On the outside, he looked fine and dandy, but deep inside, he's only a broken husk of a man that he never dared to repair.

He thinks he deserved this as punishment.

But then, in those years, he felt that he needed you to come back.

Yes, he's punishing himself, but he needed you still.

He misses your touch,

Your warmth,

Your care.

Your... Love?

Did you love him?

Or is it out of responsibly?

Bah, he doesn't care.

He loves you, and that was enough.

A knock came from the door and his CFO, and his best friend, Oliver, got inside.

"Here you have it. This week's report of activities of Miss Smith--"

"Mrs. Dragonov."

Oliver sighed.

"yes, Mrs. Dragonov, this is the week's report of Mrs. Dragonov."

Iñigo nodded in satisfaction and waved Oliver goodbye.

He opened the enveloped and his eyes widened. You were back from New Zealand. This was great news! He could talk to you. Maybe coax you into coming back.

Iñigo grabbed his key and opened a door at the back of his office and smiled at the inside. Inside was a perfect replica of your old office when you were still married to him. The only difference is that wall to wall was plastered of your face, taken by his private investigators. On the vanity, which was once in his room, have a picture of you, and your twins with him.

He smirked lazily, sitting down on the chair as he kissed your face on the picture frame.

His stormy dark eyes were bent a bit, his gaze filled with so much longing and regret.

"I'll take back what's mine." He whispered.

"and I'll do everything and use everything at my disposal to get you back." Iñigo declared, looking at his children.

"And I mean everything."

"We need to do this."

"Tsk. Why would I? I'm perfectly capable of myself."

"We both can't deny the fact that they need me. You need me."

".... Okay."

" But in one condition."

"What is it?"

"You need to marry me."

You blinked, not getting this absurd situation at all. Marriage again? But why?

Seeing your confused face, Iñigo grabbed your hand gently and squeezed them.

"Sweetheart, you don't want our children to grow up ridiculed, right? What would the people say if they saw our children with no father?" Iñigo started to whisper, coaxing you into seeing his perspective. "I am willing to provide the support you need."

You shook your head.

"But I can provide that myself. I am rich also, so that support means nothing."

Iñigo gritted his teeth and held you tightly once more.

"What will an incomplete family do to our children? Won't they question my absence? Besides, a father is a crucial role one must be filled no matter what. And I'm fully intending to be present at all." He coaxed you, whispering words of promises he wants to fulfil. "There are studies out there that an incomplete family slows down children's development."

He continued to try and let you see his perspective.

"With my influence, nobody can touch you and the children. I promise, I won't be an asshole again and ridicule you. I am so sorry for saying those things." Iñigo whispered as tears filled his eyes. "I regretted all of those. Every single day since you left, I felt like a husk, I know something was wrong, and that I was that something. I hurt someone so precious to me."

Why would he need to dirty his hands when his words and acting skills were enough to persuade you?

Iñigo knelt down, hugging your waist, begging, groveling for you to come back.

And when he saw your resolve crack in front of him, he hid his smirk as he continued to sob in front of you.

His words were working.

Besides, he knows the children were your soft spot.

He was thankful for the existence of your children. If not, he'll probably resort to... Extreme ways just to get you back.

Maybe like, making your company bankrupt with him the only lifeline left.

But now, he held your waist tightly, listening to your words as you gave up trying to fight his logic.

You were his.

And you will continue to be his,

Until death do you part.

[jade-len]

so today i tricked my very straight male friend into reading svsss.

okay look, i wasn't planning to at first and it's not like it was completely my fault. he wanted to read it!

i was showing him how badly they fucked up mu qingfang in the donghua by comparing it to the english novel design (he said that mu qingfang went from looking like a soft dilf to a predator registered on the epstein island list). and then, i showed him how different some of the other character designs were like gongyi xiao's ("he looks like he'd be a genshin character" -friend, to eng novel design) and luo binghe's ("lowkey, he kinda gives airbender vibes" -friend, to bunhe eng novel design)

so that was all i was gonna show him, nothing else. but after seeing them, he goes, "these designs actually look hella cool. what's the book called?"

now, do i:

A. tell him the name, eventually revealing that it's a danmei when he looks it up?

B. just straight up tell him that it's a danmei?

C: don't tell him the name just yet, spill the summary, get him interested, and tell him to not search anything up about it because there's heavy spoilers and it will reveal them the moment he types it up on the search bar

i go with C, obviously.

me: so, basically, some guy named shen yuan transmigrates into an incel harem male power fantasy novel where the protagonist, luo binghe, has hundreds of wives. thing is though, the guy pretty much took over the body of binghe's teacher he had when he was a teenager, who turns out to be a really scummy dude. and now he has to be nice to him so that the protagonist doesn't rip off his limbs and put him into a pickle pot in the future to suffer for eternity.

friend: that sounds hilarious and horrifying at the same time.

me: yes it is, and you should read it. it's like. my favorite novel at the moment. but don't search up anything about it because people spoil that shit. i'll let you borrow my novel

friend: nah don't worry, i'll just pirate it

friend: wait. does it have pictures?

me, my plan coming together: yeah, it has pictures. buuut, when you pirate it, it doesn't. trust me dude, i tried and was severely disappointed. plus, the physical copy is so much better

friend: fuck yeah ok thanks

me: hold on though. i'll text you later to see if my friend who's borrowing it rn is done reading it

he's hyped. he's excited. he craves a good book and a good transmigration interpretation. he's especially happy about the fact that it takes place in a chinese setting with cool powers and an actual good main character. "this sounds so good, god i wanna read it so bad."

i tell him that binghe is actually adorable, too. that it's pretty much found family! my friend then asks if shen yuan adopts him and becomes a father figure or something.

and i said "yes". you know, like a liar. (the father figure part probably isn't a lie though)

now i'm gonna give him the novel tomorrow! of course, i'm gonna cover the chapter 2 bunhe sexual awakening scene with washi tape and say that my baby cousin (sorry baby cousin, you would never <\3) scribbled all over that paragraph with her markers, and since i'm a neat book freak, i put washi tape and just wrote the scene! i don't know if that's really all too believable, but he didn't seem to care that much. just a simple "if my baby cousin did that to my book i would punt them into the sun"

i think what'll be more hilarious is the fact that you can't really tell that svsss is a BL. especially not volume 1. there's like, only a few lines indicating, but if you remove the baby binghe sexual awakening scene then you probably won't be able to know (...if you don't really read romance or anything. idk he's kinda dense anyways). so let's hope he gets attached and has a slow descent into the homo before i drop svsss vol 2 on him!

ok anyways i'll update you guys later with a reblog. maybe in about two or three days lol

(also don't worry, we already fuck around with each other on a daily basis like this. he's already tricked me into reading some manga i was unprepared for, and i thought that it'd be funny to mess around with him using svsss this time lol)

[sscrambledmeggss]

i was having the time of my life and then i got to the man’s pov

my friend and i are reading a cowboy romance and it is genuinely so funny. like i am having the time of my life. i keep reading out loud passages in a southern accent

[hemipenal-system]

wait wait wait wait holdon. about that other anon what do u MEAN most of the monsters in monsterfucking r not women???? i've been struggling to find terato blogs that dont center women for like EVER (nothing against women i m just very attracted to masculinity) PLEASE can we trade which blogs we're finding???? like damn?????

i mean, i do think a lot of mainstream* monsterfucker content does tend to focus on human-adjacent male monsters, but i think that's solely for the fact that romance novel readers are massively disproportionately women and romance is disproportionately straight, because, well, everything is right now

i know there are blogs on here about mostly male monsters, i just don't follow a whole lot of them. i wish i could recommend u some but thats kinda outside my interest lol, i lean very heavily towards women.

anyway if you follow me and you're a mostly masculine monster blog feel free to make noise in the notes on the chance anon sees this one

[aoioozora]

Valentine

Content: Elias Walker x Daughter! Reader, good ol' daddy-daughter fluff, all wholesome Word count: 2.7k Note: People with daddy issues are gonna love this (I hope) lol. Enjoy!

Elias thought that having two boys was enough children but when Mama Walker wanted to have one more, he thought "well, why not make my wife happy?" and so they tried again.

Nine months later in the delivery room, the nurse announced gleefully that Mama Walker had given birth to a girl.

A girl!

Elias was pleasantly surprised. He thought he'd have another boy, but a girl... His mind was buzzing when the nurse brought the swaddled baby to him. He took the child in his arms, carefully holding her just like he did his two little boys who came before her. But holding her was different. It was a girl. A sweet little angel. He stared at the newborn with awe. A girl. He'd never considered what having a girl would be like. He was a guy's guy, rough and tough officer in the military. But now, he was face to face with a little girl; her tiny little face and her even tinier hands and feet, and her wail signifying life. His heart melted.

Mama Walker, in the hospital bed, wished she would have taken a photo of the sight.

He'd keep looking at his little baby girl every day from her first sight to her first steps to her first words. He doted on her like a mother hen, beaming at Mama Walker and their two sons at every milestone. Being a girl dad, he loved it more than he expected.

Watching you grow up was bittersweet. You'd cry about mean boys and girls in your class, and then worry about pimples and period stains and cramps, about your grades, about crushes that didn't like you back. It was a rollercoaster of emotions raising a little girl to become a young woman.

But the most painful thing for him to see was you sad or crying.

Valentine's day had come and both your elder brothers had left the house to go on dates with their girlfriends, leaving you at home lonely and sad. It was a huge blow to your esteem that no boy ever looked your way, and so you sat in your room, sulking and playing video games to distract yourself.

Elias had just walked out of your room after checking on you and he sighed heavily as he stepped downstairs, thinking of what he could do to cheer you up. He saw Mama Walker in the kitchen, taking care of some dishes. Pursing his lips, he called out,

"Honey, I'm going to the store for a bit. You want anything?"

Mama gave him a small list of things and he set out.

Not too long later, while you were now reading a romance novel in bed throwing yourself a pity-party, there was a knock on your door.

"Come in," you called out unenthusiastically.

"Open the door for me, will you?" came your dad's voice.

You lazily hauled yourself off your bed and opened the door. "What's up-"

Your words stopped in their tracks when you saw your dad right in front of you, suited up, his grey hair neatly combed, and holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He looked a little embarrassed, but determined.

"You wanna go on a date with me?" he asked, grinning widely.

Your jaw laxed as you stared at him. "What...?"

"It's Valentine's day," he replied, standing up straight and resisting the urge to cross his arms and shift his weight on one leg to hit the dad pose, "I want to take you out."

A smile broke your tired, sullen face. "Take me out?" you asked teasingly, poking his shoulder, "You're not talking about those training sessions where you take us out, are you?"

"No, no, not at all," he shook his head, chuckling. He was about to order you to get dressed but he cleared his throat and instead asked as he held the bouquet out to you, "So, what will it be? Do you want to go on a date with me?"

You accepted the flowers with an emphatic, "Yes!"

Elias headed downstairs to wait for you while you got dressed in your best outfit. He whispered to Mama that the plan had worked and she couldn't help but give her husband a big fat kiss for being the sweetest.

When you finally came downstairs, your mother gushed at how beautiful you looked. Elias stood up from the couch where he was seated, watching you descend; he was almost transported back to the 90s when he was dating your mother, for you looked so much like her.

"Dad?" you called, wondering why he looked so dazed.

He blinked, snapping back to reality. "Oh, sorry," he inhaled, smiling, "I was just thinking of how much you look like your mother," he explained, fondly looking at his wife, who smiled back at him. He turned back to you and stepped closer, held your face in his calloused hands and gave you a loving, fatherly kiss to your forehead, before putting his hands on your shoulders and exclaiming, "You look wonderful."

You could only smile and grin. Mama watched fondly, finding it funny how he roughhoused his sons but treated his daughter like she was gold. He had a soft spot for his boys, but an even softer spot for his girl. 

After taking a photo of both of you, Mama saw you and Elias at the door. "Have fun, both of you!" she called, smiling as she watched her husband escort their daughter to the car and open the door for her.

"See you soon, mom!" you waved. Your dad also waved at her and then drove off.

"So, where are you taking me?" you asked, grinning excitedly.

"Sit tight, darling. You'll see," he chuckled at your enthusiasm. "Consider this a date, but also consider this an example of what you should look for in a good man, do you understand?"

You nodded. He smiled at you and then turned to the road, sighing. "You're growing so fast..." he said in a tone that was bittersweet.

"Daaaad," you chide him playfully, "Come on, we're out here to have a good time, not a sad time."

He let out another chuckle. "Sorry, I just..." he looked at you again and pinched your cheek lightly, "You'll know when you're a parent yourself."

You rolled your eyes, smiling at how much he doted on you. Sitting back, you watched the lighted lamp posts fly past you and then glanced at your father, who was concentrating on the road. The brief silence was comfortable, and you felt so lucky to have a father like him. He had his shortcomings, but you knew he had your best interest in mind. And to see him go out of his way to take you out when he didn't have to just showed you how much he cared.

He soon pulled into a parking spot in front of a rather fancy looking restaurant. He stopped you from opening your door, and quickly got out of his seat to open it for you, just like a proper man should.

You smilingly got out and he held out his arm to you. You giggled as you slipped your hand into his arm. "You're going all out, aren't you?"

He nodded emphatically. "Of course. You must know how to identify a good man who will care for you," he began to lead the way to the restaurant, "And if he doesn't at least go out of his way to do little things like these, he's no good. Have some high standards."

You took mental note of his advice as he opened the door for you, gesturing you to enter first. It was wonderfully gratifying to you to experience this; you'd see him treat your mother the same way, and you longed for someone to do the same to you. Even if it was just your father for now, it made you beam as you entered.

Elias was relieved to see your change of mood. He led you to a table which he thought was the best ventilated, lighted, and had the best view of the outdoors, hoping it would make you happier. It did. You loved the window seats.

As both of you scoured through the menu, he said, "Get anything you like. Now, because I'm your dad, I'll buy you whatever you want from this menu, but remember, on an actual date with a guy who is paying for the meal, be considerate and never order the most expensive dish. Order something that would be reasonable." He paused, looking through the prices of the dishes, "Unless he's rich and insists on you getting something else." He gives you a playful wink.

You chuckled, nodding. After both of you had placed your orders, you sat back and asked, "Should the guy always pay for the meal on a date?"

He took a thoughtful sip from his glass of water. Letting out a sigh, he said, "Well, I was raised traditional, so I would say that the man should pay for the meal on a date, since he's the provider." He paused and crossed his arms pensively, "On my dates with your mother, I always paid, even if she insisted on paying sometimes. It didn't feel right to me, because I wanted to show her I could take care of her.” He then looked at you. “But times are changing. I hear that women want to pay for dates too. That should be something you decide with your future partner.”

Your meals soon came as the conversation continued over them. Your dad thoroughly enjoyed his medium-rare steak, veggies, and mashed potatoes, approvingly nodding and humming. When he saw you slowly getting through your meal, he asked, 

“Too much?”

You shook your head. 

“Another piece of advice,” he said, smiling widely, “choose a man who can finish your meal for you when you're full.”

You snorted. “Is that why mom married you?” 

He laughed. “Of course! Your mother has always been conscious about wasting food, so I reassured her by eating whatever she couldn’t eat. And besides, being in the army is a lot of work, so you need a lot of food anyway.”

After the meal and a lovely dessert, both of you headed out, arm in arm again. When he asked you where you wanted to go next, you told him that you wanted to go to the park.

“The park? Are you sure you don’t want to go to the mall and empty my wallet?” he asked teasingly as he strapped on his seatbelt.

You pouted at him and he laughed, remembering the same pout on you whenever he pulled your leg as a toddler. Nothing’s changed, he couldn’t help but think.

He drove you to the park. It was late in the evening, and there were only a few people lounging about and walking around within its confines, and so the two of you comfortably strolled around, enjoying the cool air. 

You made a beeline to the playground and situated yourself right on the swingset, looking at your dad with sparkling eyes, begging him to push you like he always did. 

“You’re a spoiled little brat, aren’t you?” he said with an affectionate scoff as he tramped on the sandy playground and stood behind you, grabbing the thick chains and pulling the swing back.

“That’s all your fault,” you answered with a cheeky smile.

He laughed. That was true. He doted on you and spoiled you rotten, all because you were the youngest and his little girl. He pushed you as hard as he could, and relished in your giggles as you swung high up in the air. 

He pushed again, smiling to himself. He was a Captain, commanded many soldiers with military strictness and nobody could move him; his word was law. But there were only two people in the world who had him all wrapped up around their little fingers: his wife and his daughter.

His mind turned him back to reality and he was still pushing you on the swing, and you were having the time of your life. He soon decided to ease up on the pushing, and then settled on the swing right next to yours, watching your swing lose momentum. 

“Thanks, dad,” you said with a grin, “That was fun!”

He smiled back fondly, watching you gently rocking yourself on the swing once it had slowed down completely. There was a moment of comfortable silence between both of you, until you looked up at him, taking in for a moment how weathered he looked under the harsh white lights of the park, reminding you of how long he’s lived.

“Dad?” you called.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think it’s weird that a grown girl like me still wants to play on the swings?” 

He chuckled. Grown girl. You were a teenager, still a little child to him. But he couldn’t deny that you were growing. It would only be a matter of a couple years before you became a young woman ready to tackle the world. He shifted slightly in his seat.

“I guess some people who are no fun would think it’s childish,” he answered, “But I don’t think so. I think it’s good to have and retain some childlikeness even as you grow up…”

His voice trailed off for a moment to think, and you didn’t interrupt him, sensing that he had more to say. He smiled.

“I know as a teenager, you tend to care about what other people think. But trust me, the sooner you forget to do that, the better. You’ll live life so much better that way.” 

“That feels so hard to do,” you shrugged, “It’s like… I feel so inferior because I’m not like the others… and even more so now that nobody asked me out on a date for Valentine’s day.” Your hands gripped the chains of the swing slightly, “Maybe the boys think I’m too childish, I don’t know.” 

He sighed and gently swung himself, using his feet to push against the ground. “The thing about teenagers, darling,” he began, “a lot of them care about appearing grown and mature, which is expected- they’re growing up, obviously. But what’s not obvious to them is that they’re still children. They will have some childish beliefs that they will eventually wean off.

“Remember, a real guy who truly loves you will not shame you for loving these “childish” things. Any man with real sense will understand that there’s a reason why you love the things you love, so don’t settle for less.

“And besides, I’d rather you grow up a little more before you date. I would not stand to see you dating any of these little, immature boys who would break your heart,” he huffed.

You playfully pouted. “You’re no fun, dad.”

He scoffed. “No fun because I’m looking out for you?”

Both of you shared a laugh, and you couldn’t help but feel so happy that you could safely confide in him and playfully jab at him without being judged or scolded. After a little more conversation, your dad looked at his watch. He slapped his knees and got off the swing with a grunt.

“Right then, I should take you back home before your curfew,” he said, holding out his hand to you, “Because a real man gets you back home at a reasonable hour without worrying your parents.” 

You chuckled, taking his hand. “You’re a real man.”

“That’s why your mom chose me,” he bragged, “Take notes.”

It made you giggle, thinking of how your mom would sometimes gush about her husband to you and your brothers, making the three of you roll your eyes and laugh. The years passing only made them love each other more and more, and you could not have asked for better parents than them. 

Arm in arm once again, he escorted you to the parking lot. As he got in the car after you and strapped on the seatbelt, he asked,

“How about we make this a tradition until you get yourself a boyfriend?”

You smiled widely. “Sure.” Your eyes lingered appreciatively on your father and you said, feeling a surge of affection for him, “I love you, dad.”

He beamed, a bright smile gracing his weathered face. Those words made all the effort and toil he took to raising you worth it. He ruffled your hair. 

“Love you too, kiddo.”

[ghostiequill]

Mihawk x Librarian

Can be read as gender neutral reader

please go easy this is literally my first ever fanfiction lol

Let it be known that Lord Dracule Mihawk was a romantic at heart.

Every mission that he decides to grace the Marines with his presence, he rewards himself with the sappiest, most bodice ripping book he can find

He wasn't embarrassed, why would he be? Every man has his vices and his was far more healthy than the heathen souls he had come across along his travels

If anyone has a problem with them, they dare not say for his hawk eyes practically bore into their soul, silently challenging them to comment 

So when he docked on your island after a mission, he dedicated to make the trek to the small, and only, bookstore in town- your bookshop

You were proud of the tiny establishment you managed to build up over the years. The walls, up to the ceiling were smothered in books of every genre you had managed to get a hold of. The cozy atmosphere emphasized with plush oversized couches, mismatched bookshelves, and knick knacks that you’ve collected over the years that you just couldn't leave the store without

Walking in, he was immediately hit with the smell of the used pages of well loved books and the coffee that patrons had had before.

Silently scoring the shelves, his eyes looking for the prey he planned to devour, luckily for everyone with fighting experience he had only planned to devour a good book

Looking through the brightly colored spines, one managed to catch his eye-a soft pink cover with a woman fainting in a man’s arms, reading the back. Satisfied, he tucked it under his arm and made his way to the front counter where you sat reading.

You were leaning over the counter, thoroughly engrossed in your novel, twirling a piece of hair in your fingers. Your eyes quickly scanning the pages of the book as you heard a polite cough from in front of you

Embarrassed, you hastily put a bookmark in your spot and shoved in back under the counter as you turned towards your patron

Your face lit up as he placed his novel on the counter. You started ranting about how much you loved the author, how much the romance genre was underrated and overdramatized by those foolish enough to not partake in it, citing that they were just too afraid to admit their own love for trash

He remained silent. Now to the untrained eye, Mihawk could have been seen as bored, but this was entirely untrue. He didn't believe in love at first sight, but you apparently existed to challenge that perception. Your passion and enthusiasm was utterly infectious and he couldn't help but sink into your words, eagerly awaiting your next sentence.

Realizing you had yet to hear a reply, you faced the person who decided to buy and your face dropped, Dracule Mihawk-looking like he got ripped straight out of one of the covers of your favorite novels with his sharp jawline, piercing eyes, strong arms, and the fashion of one of the pirates that you once dreamt would sweep you off your feet and whisk you away on the adventure that you had read countless times before 

You had tried to stutter out an apology before he put a hand up, suddenly silencing you

After the shock had worn off, you had managed to slowly start making small talk about more of the books you had read of the romance genre getting more and more excited the more you talked

Mihawk found it adorable the way your eyes lit up and tried to continue this conversation as long as he could, steering it in direction, demanding the waters of the conversion as he steered it in the ways that made you smile the most

Mihawk regaled you with the many tales and summaries of the books he's read before, making you laugh at their extravagant plot holes and extreme dialogue.

A lull in the conversation eventually developed, making you realize again who you were talking to, making you blush and look down

Mihawk studies your face for a moment, a strange itch causing him to miss your enthusiastic voice

You quickly write up his book and before handing him his receipt, you pause, write something down unable to make eye contact as you hand him the folded receipt and the book

Mihawk politely tips his hat and turns to leave, unfolding the receipt he stops in his tracks: 

“Are you a library book, ‘cause I’d love to check you out” with a lopsided wink and your number scrawled at the bottom

He turns around, amusement playing at his lips as he sees you blatantly staring, realizing you got caught and trying to quickly duck behind the counter

Mentally berating yourself at the stupid pick up line, why would this ever work? He’s a warlord- prim, proper, and powerful. He was just making polite conversation why would be be interested in you-

“You know, if you wanted my number you could have just asked” a smooth voice above you says. “I would have gladly given it up”

You slowly stand up, eyes darting to his face to try to see if he was making fun of you or not. 

Seeing the little bookstore owner that he had witnessed so passionately defend their trash books now suddenly overcome with shyness made Mihawk very amused. He quickly scrawled his number at the bottom

“I look forward to talking with you” He smiled, tipped his hat and made his way into the crowded street

You were awestruck, you had just managed to get the number of the Dracule Mihawk. Clutching the receipt to your chest, you couldn't help but smile. What's the rule of how long you could call again?

Both of you were unsure of where this next chapter of life would lead you, but both of you felt a sense of optimism of what was to be.

[see-arcane]

How different are Dracula's Demeter and TLVOTD?

Oof. Okay. This is going to hurt me as a staunch THE BOOK IS ALWAYS BETTER believer, but.

The Last Voyage of the Demeter is very much the better story. By a wide margin.

Spoilers for The Last Voyage of the Demeter, Dracula's Demeter, and Dracula below

Just speaking on differences, TLVOTD does sadly tuck in that Universal Pictures nonsense about ~the sun hurts vampires~ and sacrifices some of the Captain's coolness and giving the Romanians and the Roma any respect due to the origins of the poor chick who got boxed up as a bloodbag stowaway. But it is still a very very well done Dracula as an Actual Goddamn Monster horror film. Even the close of the movie--yes, with more random action slapped on for cinematic reasons--leaves a door open for one last knife twist as OC Protagonist stalks off into the shadows to hunt Dracula down...

...and possibly accidentally-brilliantly nodding to a certain scene in the novel where the gang enters the Count's Piccadilly house and finds a bowl of bloodied water. RIP.

It's a good scary story and it built something enjoyable out of the Demeter chapter's foundation. Definitely a refreshing departure from the constant sexypire barrage of Draculas.

Dracula's Demeter feels like a con job by comparison.

Specifically because it opens so promisingly. It's very obvious that the author read Dracula front to back and loved what he read! He uses tons of direct lines from it! He has period accurate details dappled throughout for the Demeter's ship and crew! He does an admirable job of building up his own two Requisite Guy and Girl Stowaway Romance OCs so they can do Meaningful Things, just like TLVOTD's duo do! Dracula is sinister and erudite and--credit where it's due--delivers an absolutely nightmarish demise to poor Petrofsky. Holy shit.

With all that, you can forgive the kind of rough editing and the way that (parentheses) and ALL CAPS ACTION WORDS get sprinkled throughout like someone who just peeled their stuff straight from Ao3. It's fine, it's fun. At first.

And then shit goes downhill and straight into Dracufetishland: Naughty Nautical Edition.

Because it turns out that where TLVOTD had Required Girl Character get to be a whole person and not a gossamer-dressed sexy lamp (even having been chomped), DD's Required Girl gets chomped and immediately goes full 'lol my human boyfriend is a loser compared to Count Fuckula,' in a way I might forgive if we were going for some unrelated vampire's story--but no. This is a Dracula story and she's in full Coppola mode.

She gets turned, ogles what's left of her reflection so we can talk about how hard and visible her nips are in a borrowed shirt, gets Dracuhorny, and ditches her boyfriend.

And then, when Earnest Englishman Boyfriend tries to burn the ship and save the day, he gets burned alive, and then Dracula orders Vampire Girlfriend to garrote the poor guy to death while wearing the convenient billowy white dress she brought onboard. And she does. Happily. There's not even a crumb of will or even dissent left in her the way we see with the goddamn Weird Sisters who were with him for centuries and actively tried to steal Jonathan from their master***, or even Bloofer Lady Lucy reaching for Art.

Just a pointless fuck you of a death that added nothing.

Followed by Dracula snapping Vampire Girlfriend's neck, double-kills her, and chucks her into the sea while chuckling about how silly it is to think that he would want a companion, ha ha!

...

Yes, I am also staring at the camera The Office-style, thinking about -checks notes- the Weird Sisters, Jonathan, Lucy, a random ass girl in Piccadilly, Mina...

Oh, that Dracula. Such a loner.

And all that leads to the Captain with the rosary--WHICH ISN'T EVEN HIS--and the last few chapters which are just pure padding about Dracula shoving the Demeter to shore. After getting a cutaway scene to Dracula hopping into Lucy's brain somehow to grope her while Mina watches. For reasons.

The book is, in short, pointless.

The OCs are pointless. Them being on the boat is pointless. Nothing they do, nothing the author has the crew or Dracula do, adds literally anything to what was already in the Demeter section of the book. There is no meat here, only voluptuous gristle.

And the thing is! The infuriating thing is! Because this is a Dracula*** story, it is still technically more respectful than the bulk of other writing and media about Dracula, because so much of it is doubly extra-fetished never-read-the-book never-liked-the-book utter garbage.

So I still have to give it 3/5 stars as a Dracula story. 1.5-2 in isolation.

Anyway, I'm going to go re-watch TLVOTD now

[maybe-boys-do-love]

The Only Friends Conspiracy Corner

Welcome to my Only Friends conspiracy theory corner, where I lose my mind on the regular and explain why I believe Only Friends is a veiled commentary on the Thai BL entertainment industry and its relationship to Thailand's soft power economic model, especially Thailand's gay (aka pink money) tourism. As The Heart Killers gets relatively explicit about issues of structural political and economic power, now seems as good a time as ever to talk about Jojo’s last show that seemed to me to put so much of its political work in the subtext. This is just the starter pack. Hit me up with more thoughts anytime!

The Only Friends Hostel business. We have business majors in this show, a rarity in Thai BL, and for their class project they're opening a hostel. Each member of the friend group has a business role to play--Ray provides the real estate, Mew takes on leadership of finances and accounting, Cheum provides PR, and Boston's tasked with creative direction--but the value of the individuals, their roles in the business, and their willingness to collaborate with one another is the tension that drives the series. The characterizations, dialogue, and events in the series ought to be viewed in light of this. Mew, for example, partners off with Top, who encroaches on the friends' trivia group to answer for them a question about Thailand's first hotel, The Oriental, which two Americans established for sailors in Bangkok shortly after the opening of the Kingdom of Siam to international trade in 1855 and later two Dutch business partners reestablished after a fire. A single answer links Top to the influx of Western capitalism in the form of a hotel in Thailand! To count up the economic references in Only Friends would take a massive spreadsheet.

Artistic Passions. Each boy in the Y.O.L.O. bar friend group is associated with one artistic medium. Boston with photography and visual arts more broadly, Ray with music, and Mew with books (lol there's a scene in the last episode in which the translation has Force use the word force in a sentence immediately followed by Book as Mew mentioning his "books"). These are the components of the television and film medium: visuals, sound, and writing. Their romantic entanglements are also colored by their preferred medium and the narrative styles associated with them. Boston has his sensual dark room developments *wink wink,* Ray hooks up with a musician to visit record stores and concerts like a romantic movie couple, Mew makes his ideal seme court him in bookstores and dates straight out of a BL romcom novel. Even Cheum’s girlfriend, April, makes indie movies that go over our token lesbian’s head.

Atom, Cheum, and Mew’s BL Fantasies. It’s not surprising Cheum’s not about those art house flicks. Her, her brother, and Mew all espouse some BL tropes with harmful consequences. The most blatant is Atom’s stated belief that he ‘turned gay’ because of Boston, which he’s corrected on, but Atom, Nick, and Mew all commit to the BL (and broader romance) trope of equating first affections with true love. And Cheum sorts the gay men of her life into simplified categories of red flags or green flags, predators or cinnamon buns. Not all BLs are so simplistic with their trope usage and characterizations, but Only Friends highlights damaging tendencies that occur in the genre and among its fans.

The Pairings. Speaking of fans, one of the key strategies for creating fan interest are the pairings. While not unique to the BL industry entirely—Hollywood’s been pairing actors for publicity and dollars from pretty early on—BL pairs have a pretty distinct flavor, and Only Friends’ casting takes advantage of that. For our pair associated with the most fluffy BL narratives, we have ForceBook, a CP only ever paired together who have known one another since kindergarten. The maturer second love romance goes to FirstKhao, who both worked in other pairings before landing in their current contractual partner relationship. The situationship to end all situationships goes to two actors who, at the time, were not in a CP, something that Jojo has specifically mentioned as relevant to his interests when casting.

The Boeing of it all. Named after a fucking airplane manufacturer, with multiple references to his dreams of traveling internationally (concerts with Sand), flight (he's working to be a airline attendant), and flightiness (both his flightiness toward his bf’s and his encouragement of others to fly away from their partners). In a show explicitly about the hospitality industry? In a genre dependent on international viewers??? In one name, we get such a fountain of economic insight!

Begin Again. In the finale episode, Ray tells Sand he always wanted to wander around listening to music like they did in Begin Again. In fact, Mew and Top’s silent disco moment plays homage to the same sequence. Begin Again, however, is not a romance, despite what the marketing and weak reviews (from critics who expected a swooning repeat of indie gem Once from its director) implied. Instead, Begin Again uses romantic expectations as a trojan horse for an insider portrait of the music industry as the streaming industry changed its operating models. The leads are Mark Ruffalo who plays a has-been alcoholic producer (an important reference to even better understand Ray’s role in the hostel business) and Kiera Knightly, playing a singer-songwriter betrayed by her rising star boyfriend (acted by Adam Levine from Maroon 5). Spoiler alert: If you imagine something more between Knightly and Ruffalo’s characters than the deep relationship creatives can form making art together, you’ll be sorely disappointed. Ruffalo’s character goes back to his ex-wife (a bad omen for SandRay stans since the characters spend the time preceding their romantic walk in the last episode arguing about whether they still have feelings for their exes). Knightly’s chanteuse gets her former boyfriend to apologize and sing her song without pop theatrics on stage but she chooses not to join him and stick to her own independent path. Importantly, the film by the end respects both the popular and auteur artistic sensibilities, reserving more ire for the business models. No one character or method is completely demonized or sanctified. I can’t help but recognize a similar spirit in the portrayal of the three gay romance narratives in Only Friends—Boston’s queer tragedy, Ray’s tear-jerking gay romantic drama, or Mew’s BL comedy. The show acknowledges the formative role of those storytelling modes in the BL industry and even touches on some economic realities of choosing one mode over another. Some exemplary dialogue from the Begin Again: 

“I just think that an A&R [a record label’s artists and repertoire representative] man telling an artist how they should dress or come across is total bullshit. People don’t want that. They want authenticity”

“Authenticity! Give me the name of one artist that you think passes your authenticity test…I’m not saying you can’t be a real bona fide motherfucker in this business but you’ve got to do whatever it takes and get people in to see your shows where THE MUSIC can start to do its real work.”

Personal Hygiene Lessons. In the last two episodes, we witness Ray’s community service teaching children about hygiene. “Once upon a time…” he begins, which immediately alerts me to television writers depicting the act of storytelling. It’s a story attempting to encourage daily toothbrushing to protect from plaque, but Sand steps in and scares them with the threat of a bug crawling into their body if they don’t brush their teeth—suspiciously more similar to issues of sexual health than teeth brushing. The next clinic presentation is about washing out your nose. Either Thailand’s got some hygiene practices I don’t know about, or Jojo’s writing team snuck in a sneaky reference to douching. Watching, I was reminded that Jojo and his good friend and fellow director Aof Noppharnach (Bad Buddy, ATOTS, so many other huge GMMTV series!) began their careers writing and directing a series directly about sexual health for GayOK Bangkok, produced by an HIV testing organization. After the first presentation, Sand explains, “I’m approachable to all ages and genders,” a prime marketing demographic if I’ve ever heard one! Just like Sand, Aof, who is now the senior director of content production at GMMTV, has made inroads for himself and others into a massive market by developing a writing, directing, and producing strategy for integrating queer content (here’s my post about his recurring motifs around HIV treatment) within family-friendly BL shows, often with a romantic fairytale-like quality hearkening back to Ray’s “Once upon a time…” 

The Politician. The parents included in the series have distinguished economic and political circumstances they're associated with. Bear with me on the political-economy history lessons here. Boston, most prominently, has a father running for political office, and we meet him for the first time while Boston's wearing a 1998 t-shirt, the year the Thai Rak Thai (Thais Love Thais) party was founded by Thaksin Shinawatra, telecom billionaire and Thailand's first prime minister to lead a democratically elected government through a full-term in office beginning in 2001. He led key initiatives to promote tourism, make healthcare accessible, and, controversially, crackdown on drugs. Essentially, he provided the vision for the government that kick-started Thailand's move to its current project of soft-power. In fact, his youngest daughter, Paetongtarn Shinawatra, (who describes herself as a "socially liberal capitalist") is the current prime minister partly responsible for overseeing the equal marriage bill into law. Thaksin was ousted by a military coup in 2006 following his family's decision to sell its shares in major Thai telecom group to a Singaporean company and, faced with corruption charges in 2008, lived in exile (until September 2023, less than a month after Only Friends started airing). Ousted for not playing his part in supporting a Thai business? Boston, is that you? There is also a comment in the first episode about the massage parlor Boston's father built his financial success off of, and there's a conversation to be had there about Thailand's Thaksin-led shift away from and crackdown on its sex tourism industry. (The Department for Communicable Disease Control shirt on Style's shirt in episode 3 of The Heart Killers is a government organization in Thailand, not Alabama as the shirt says, which among other things monitors direct sex workers for STDs.) How might a focus on constant financial and moral improvement harm those who fail sanctions against promiscuity? What I find so artful about Boston's potential linkage to Thaksin is how he's constructed as Thaksin's parallel--in his journey toward exile and the over-consumption that led him there--and his antithesis. Boston's the victim, at least in his emotional well-being, of a neoliberal legacy. Thaksin's policies, similar to those of Rudy Giuliani and his predecessors in NYC, promoted family-friendly tourism and industry growth by supporting the corporate partnerships and broken window policing to price out and criminalize those unconventional populations who had taken refuge or even just found themselves in these locales after being marginalized elsewhere. In the same vein, the privileging of monogamous pairing in both BL narratives and BL fan-service expectations serve important goals encouraging breadths of people to accept and embrace gay love socially and politically—Thailand’s upcoming marriage rights bill, more expansive than most western countries, certainly has the BL industry’s influence to thank. Without further input, however, they neglect queer experiences beyond the realm of the first love or marriage plot. They neglect greater issues of equity, compassion, and freedom due to each individual human being (both actors and the general population), which the LGBT population, among others, has historically had an intimate experience with being denied or limited. 

Nick’s Digital Underworld. Nick’s our little tech wunderkind in OnlyFriends. His character fixes phones, hooks up cameras and recording equipment, makes digital campaign posters, you name it! And I personally love that he’s both a skeevy pathetic tech wizard and radiantly beautiful. His cute-factor almost lets us forget about his voyeuristic tendencies. He’s just a content enjoyer, and Boston loves creating content—he just doesn’t want himself recorded…So why doesn’t Nick just get off to some porn instead? Only Friends didn’t name itself so closely to the amateur adult content website for no reason! In fact, we got an OnlyFans reference in The Heart Killers episode 4. Imma have to thank this post for noticing an OnlyFans sign in the background of Addicted Heroin Th and pointing out that it’s illegal in Thailand, cuz I had never considered anything about the country’s pornography laws or internet censorship. I’ll try to restrain myself from blabbering too much about the history I found here and here, but the important part: Thaksin’s once again our guy kicking it off. The Thaksin government censorship focused heavily on antipornography and the 2006 military coup brought in a more Orwellian political flavor to the proceedings, both of which have basically proliferated with continuing regime changes. In 2020, mainly because of increased censorship of adult websites (which is a current global conservative trend—I’m looking at you Project 2025—so don’t hate on Thailand too much), Thailand dropped to the third-lowest tier of internet freedom, according to the company Comparitech (which focuses on cybersecurity and online privacy), only above North Korea, China, and Iran. Both content creators and consumers can have some harsh punishments under the laws. With that in mind, it’s hard to imagine Jojo’s team giving us Boston’s pornographic art and Nick’s digital pornographic consumption as mere character dressing. The fact that they are the two excluded from the friend group at the end, excluded from the local business, from acceptance! Meanwhile, having censored the “deviant” contingent out of the equation, romance is alive and well at the OnlyFans—I mean, Only Friends hostel. As one kind of gay content is uplifted, another is suppressed and banished. No, Boston and the pornography industry he seems to signify are not perfect, but neither are his friends, nor the entertainments and political-economies with which they’re equated. 

Without too much moralizing, these are the sorts of observations and hypocrisies Only Friends highlights. In my reading, at least, it depicts these media and economic trends through its characters, allowing them to play out and contend with one another as they have in reality. Sometimes the allegorical tensions or pairing of genres and capital occurs in the dynamics between characters. Other times, as I pointed out with Boston and his Thaskin connection, the tension exists within a single character. These strategies allow the show to engage with political issues while under the government’s censorship laws, but this is also just what great literary political writing looks like! It speaks to its time, but it will stand much longer as simply a character-driven story about the contentions that arise between money, sex, love, and friendship. I cannot wait for Girl Rules to give us Jojo’s GL perspective on related issues and for Only Friends Dream On to explore this territory in the context of an actual BL production! Let the chaotic theorizing ensue!

[rallentando1011]

hi! Saw the inbox was open, and wondering if I could slide in with a rise donnie boy x readerone-shot..

So essentially- donnie is STEM smart right? What if- what if reader was the opposite, like lit/history smart? Like, reads a lot, and almost never puts there book down, even when people talk to them (puts it down for donnie and gives him their full attention tho-) knows a lot about almost any point in history and adores archeology. (The only thing they understand when donnie goes science mode is biology.)

And so what if- what if reader, who's oblivious to almost everything and is a huge hopeless romantic bc of ✨️books✨️, decides to try and come up with ideas to ask donnie out in a more STEM way? But like, before they can donnie sees the list and is just like "smh ur math is atrocious/aff" and then fluffy stuff yaknow??

Lol sorry, went on a tangent. Anywhizzle, love ur writing! Don't forget to take a break, stretch and get some food and water if you need to!Have a good morning/evening/night!!! :))

U + Me = Date?

(this took a minute, but it’s such a fun and sweet request that I had a wonderful time with! Tysm, and please make sure that you’re taking care of yourself as well! Enjoy! Request guidelines are located here btw) Word Count: 2371

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything on earth has a niche, a designated function it gets to act out, a role it gets to fill. The Cape May Warbler, Bay-Breasted Warbler, and Yellow-Rumped Warbler have the top middle and bottom of a spruce tree to eat in, respectively. Humanity has its niche of expansion, whether it be out through the globe or up in towering metropolises.

If you had to specify your niche, it would just about have to be reading. Now, of course your life is filled with numerous aspirations, but your multifarious interests can all be classified under your affinity for books.

Any form of literature, thrillers, epics, romance novels, they all did it for you, enveloped the entirety of your attention in an immersive world.

That was without a doubt: they entertained you. 

At least, they made you feel inspired to do things, take action in your personal life, possibly commit to confessing certain feelings to a certain softshell turtle. Actually committing to the bit, though, was a completely different story.

In the extensive library you had under your belt, there were many a meet cute and innovative confession. However, just because it worked out in literature, it didn’t mean that you could actually do it. What if it ended up weird or cringe or downright friendship shattering?

The status quo was comfortable, subsisting off of shared time in your turtle-in-question’s lab, the two of you simultaneously performing your own tasks. You would sit and enrich yourself with a book, Donnie would tinker until he had something that piqued his interest, which happened rather frequently, and your attention would suddenly be on him. It was simple. It worked. Taking action could complicate things.

So, your inspiration remained squandered by doubt, an inkling of hope staying concealed internally.

At least, inspiration wouldn’t make anything occur unprompted, and, luckily, that nudge came swiftly.

Earlier, as you were straight chilling in a cozy bean bag chair in the lair’s living room, you saw Donnie enter the room out of your peripheral vision. However, he only seemed like a purple blur because your attention was on the thick, dense book sitting on your lap. The cover was of a similar slickness and feel to that of a textbook, the size was as well, but this read was solely for entertainment. The content could practically be summed up as history of the entire world, i guess but fleshed out with more anecdotes and primary sources.

You had been soaking in a finely written excerpt entailing early hominid tool use, accompanied by an image of a related artifact, when you felt a presence leaning over your shoulder. You opted to continue your train of thought through the lines until you heard a familiar timbre clear its throat behind you. With a sigh, you placed a finger on your spot and faced one Donatello.

“Something the matter?” You blinked slowly.

“Oh, nothing,” he shrugged, expression seeming intentionally cool, “just checking out the book choice for today.”

You lifted the book from your lap to display the contents to him.

His eyes skimmed over the page before he grinned slightly. “Ah, prehistoric archaeology? I could dig it.”

You pursed your lips, trying to keep your thought from spilling out of your mouth before ultimately giving in to your amusing whims. “Leo ahh humor.”

Donnie gaped. “Gasp, you wound me. I rescind my statement and shall not be partaking in any archaeological reading-slash-discussion with you.”

“I’m just messing around, ‘Tello. I can dabble in some crude wordplay.”

“Crude?”

“Crude. Heck, I’d bargain to say that was more archaic than the sector of human history I’m in right now, and they don’t even have wheels.”

He raised a curious brow, visibly less offended. You could work with that.

“Rather intriguing. Care to join me?” You patted the ample space on the bean bag next to you.

Curiously, he stared at you, then the space you were offering, and back, before slipping beside you.

“Care to enlighten me on this subject?” he parried, and with a grin, you were off, describing the main theme of the page, the early development of primates and humans, as well as outside archaeological examples that you knew of, the whole nine yards.

As you rambled on, you locked eyes with him occasionally, and his eyes were intrigued saucers every time you did. It made something in your brain click.

He played along with your banter. He was sitting right beside you, absorbing your words so vehemently and genuinely and ohmigosh this guy of all people wouldn’t judge you for trying something that could be weird. Heck, he’s a fanatic of oddities, anything mystic or scientific, so if he didn’t like you asking him out, at the very least he’d admire the effort. So, you were inspired to try something, finally take some action.

You were going for it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You set to work on your asking-out endeavor as soon as you arrived home.

At first you tried looking at STEM-related pickup lines.

Sardonically, of course. You wanted something that got your point across without seeming too vulnerable, something you could play off in the scenario you got completely and irrevocably rejected.

“I less than three you… That’s not that bad,” you scrolled through the results of your search, perched at your kitchen table.

You only made it down the list to ‘the square root of all my fantasies is you’ until you actually needed to call it quits on that route. There was a fine line between being intentionally corny and the monstrosity that was that line.

So you took the next completely logical leap: concocting a page full of intricate mathematical and scientific questions, the answers of which spelled out an encrypted message.

It was the sane thing to do. 

4  1  20 5          20 15 13  15  18  18 15 23 ?

D  A  T  E          T   O   M   O   R   R  O  W ?

You scribbled the message on a scrap piece of paper. You entertained the idea of writing a whole sentence, but just these two words covered the gist clearly and concisely. Plus, coming up with questions for only two words was enough to melt your brain.

“Limit as x approaches sixteen of the square root of x… equals… yeah, four. That works,” you mumbled. “One down,” you sucked in a deep breath, “eleven to go. Crud.”

The next few hours blended together aimlessly, riddled with just about every mathematical scenario you could conjure up. Sure, derivatives and Planck’s Constant and the unit circle (the bane of your existence) were all ambitious topics to have on the totally inconspicuous worksheet, but, to quote a phrase, go big or go home. When in Rome also works.

By the time you reached ungodly hours in the night, you had curated a functional way to surprise and ask out your best friend. With your brain oozing out of your ears, you put the paper somewhere safe and collapsed face down on your bed.

You would have mentally prepared yourself to give him the paper tomorrow if not for the calculus-derived headache already splitting your mind.

Instead, you immediately dozed off.

You could deal with the minutiae of tomorrow… tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day when you waltzed into the lair, he was conveniently seated at the desk in his lab.

“Heya D! I come bearing gifts.” You presented him with the paper as coolly as you could, keeping all the panic and nerves internal, and took up the chair beside him.

“A calculus sheet?” He grinned. “You shouldn’t have.”

After a moment of looking at it, however, his eyes dimmed and smile lessened. “...You shouldn’t have.”

You faltered. “Oh, gosh, is it that bad?”

“Which letter corresponds with negative one?”

“What?” you exclaimed. “Oh nononono no, I checked my math like five times, it’s not even possible-”

“The derivative of cosine theta is negative sine theta. Not positive. Simple mistake, really. It was a valiant effort of- whatever you were trying to do.”

You blinked, smacked your lips. Well, that was the end of that. You would just take your leave and move out of the city and change your name and never feel anything again. Easy.

“Just forget I did anything, forget this paper exists- like, what paper even?” You reached for the sheet of paper only for him to use the mechanical extensions on his battle shell to hold it out of your reach.

“No, my interest is piqued,” he smirked. You could almost feel the mischievousness emanating from him. “I will gladly continue, if you do not mind.”

You complied and sat stiffly, anxiously glancing about the lab, until you saw him pick up a utensil and start marking on the paper.

“Are you correcting it with a pen? Are you seriously grading this right now?” you muttered. You weren’t mad, just thoroughly panicked.

He stopped writing momentarily. “What? No, not grading, per say. This is just how I’m deciphering this.”

You knew that tone and you knew that was a lie. 

“I- ugh,” you flopped your head down on his desk and closed your eyes. “Just tell me when you’re done fixing it. I spent a needlessly long amount of time on this just for it to be terrible.”

He didn’t deny that it was terrible, though you excused that to him being busy and hopefully not him agreeing.

Although, with how quickly his pen was scratching marks on the page, the latter seemed more feasible.

You focused on taking deep, steadying breaths, relaxing to the sounds of the busy pen until it suddenly stopped.

Lifting your head from its place, you saw he had completely stilled, staring at the paper with wide eyes and upturned lips.

“What? Did you spot another comically egregious mistake?” you mumbled, halfway intrigued.

He took another few seconds to answer you. “Something like that.” And with that nothingness of an answer, he started writing again, much more fervently.

“Okay then.” You went to put your head down again before he slammed the paper down before you.

“Boom! Here is the revised and finalized version of the worksheet,” he grinned.

You narrowed your eyes at the comments about your inability to include units, corrections on when something was supposed to be negative, but the markings at the bottom of the page were what caught your attention the most.

When you looked at the corner of the page, you saw an odd combination of zeros and ones. 

01101111 01101000 00100000 01111001 01100101 01110011 00100000 01110000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 

“Actually, what is this?” You gestured to the code.

“It’s my response.”

“And you had to put it in binary?”

“You’re the one who wanted to talk in codes.” He sounded frustratingly nonchalant.

“Yeah, but-” you considered asking him to directly tell you, but maybe this was slightly less nerve wracking. Ripping off the bandaid be darned, you took the coward’s way out and pulled out your phone. “Man, I let you get away with way too much stuff. Has this interaction not dragged on painstakingly enough?”

“The greater the hardship, the greater the reward,” he commented with a shrug.

That pleasant surprise of a response made you copy the ones and zeros faster into the binary decoding website you’d searched up.

Just as you had everything in and your finger steadied over the button that would tell you what he was saying, you hesitated, steadied yourself with a deep breath, and hit it.

Nothing could have prepared you for the rush of adrenaline and euphoria that washed over you at seeing his answer.

“Ohmigosh, you’re serious?! Because you cannot be joking like this, Donatello.”

“As the plague.” One of his hands rested on his chest, the other was in the air as if taking an oath.

“Haha, yes!” you cheered, spinning the desk chair you were in. The late night and headache had paid off, and it felt great!

“So, where am I accompanying you tomorrow?” He mused.

Immediately, you paused. You’d only spent time thinking about the part where you ask him out, not the actual going out part.

“Where? Uhh, I hadn’t really gotten to that point of the planning stage.”

“You were too focused on biffing a math paper to actually plan out its intended purpose?”

“Yeah, not my brightest decision, nor my best work. It was a rather dumb decision on my behalf.”

“You are a dum-dum, but just because of how needlessly complex you made this, not because of your mathematical errors.”

“I genuinely don’t know if I should take offense to that or not.”

“Maybe you should be thinking about where we’re going tomorrow? Just a thought.”

You clicked your tongue. “Fine, uhh coffee?”

“A little trite for a first date, no?” Donnie propped his elbow up on the desk and rested his chin on his hand, smiling widely.

“Okay then, coffee and we go to the library?”

“Don’t we normally do that anyway? What about it makes it a ‘da-”

“Donnie, I am running on fumes from making the erroneous atrocity that is that worksheet last night. If you don’t have any suggestions, coffee at the library works. If you have a contribution, go right ahead.” You put your hands up in surrender.

Donnie’s smugness faded slightly and he lightly nudged your elbow. “Coffee at the library sounds great. And for what it’s worth, I appreciate that you tried to do something innovative. It was truly a highly admirable effort.”

“Thanks, D.”

“Of course.  But from now on, let’s leave the math to the professionals.”

There it was again: the sass.

“Oh, that’s a low blow.” You shook your head, still smiling.

“A low blow would be mentioning how you confused the natural logarithm for a standard logarithm. You see, when you have e to the power of…”

The corrections and banter flourished on from there, the both of you giggling and getting mockingly, lightheartedly angry with each other.

Despite your interests in different subjects, the two of you understood each other. It was wonderful to have a partner that you could be niche with wherever and whenever.

It was almost worth all the math and science it took to get there.

(I actually made inconspicuous math worksheet that reader made for Donnie, and it is linked HERE!)