#this might the nicest thing a human being has ever said to me....
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ughgoaway · 11 months ago
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also (late) merry christmas ace!! hope you’ve been having a nice holiday season *a spam of virtual hugs
ur little fics have genuinely made these last few months for me and i know you panic every time u post them and never seem to think they’re good enough (the anxiety is relatable tbh 😭)- but they genuinely make my days when i come home and see that youve posted smth so…personally who needs one day of christmas when i can get silly little blurbs and writings from u ab our fav au family all year round :D
just wanted to say a quick hello; bff anon loves u ace <33
oh merry late Christmas to you too my love!!!
this ask literally made me CRY. my mascara is everywhere rn, and I do not even care. my sweatshirt is stained black, and I couldn't be happier about it.
words can not even say how much this means to me, I overthink about everything I post and genuinely consider deleting everything weekly, so knowing someone loves my work is just so so amazing to me.
the fact that I make you feel even fractionally better inspires me to write SO MUCH. and all your ideas and contributions to this au have made it so much better and more fun.
you have made my year AMAZING. and I. LOVE. YOU.
it makes my day whenever you send an ask!!!! I love hearing from you. Genuinely, I am the no.1 bff anon stan. I'm obsessed with you basically....
you should see how I react when I get an ask from you... I giggle like a school girl and re-read it like 10 times, it's so funny.
YOU ARE QUITE LITERALLY THE SWEETEST PERSON EVER. WHO NEEDS CHRISTMAS WHEN I HAVE SILLY LITTLE ASKS FROM YOU!!!!!
I love you soooooo much, this has made my entire fucking month 10000x better. I am giving you a kiss on the forhead rn. MWUAH <333333
(p.s. I am working on the incredible ask you sent yesterday and can't wait to scream about it with you :)))))) )
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kimakento · 4 months ago
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falling behind
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this is a 100 follower special! thank you guys so so much for all the reblogs and likes and even just enjoying my works. i appreciate all the love sm and hope that i can continue to write for y’all :D
synopsis: the three times you choose shigeta harua and the one time you don’t. ⌙ 5.5k
pairing: shigeta harua x fem!reader
genre(s): angst (no comfort)
warnings: swearing, low self-esteem, mentions of divorce and slight family issues (please tell me if i’ve missed any)
tags: unrequited love, one-sided pining, taki cameo!!!, friend trio, non idol!au, highschool!au, harua’s fr down bad… title is a reference to laufey’s falling behind !! + a little of promise too if you look at the lyrics
a/n: i read this concept in a fic once and really stuck to it and wrote this in the process. this might actually be one of my favourite fics that i’ve written (i got a bit carried away) but nevertheless i hope you all enjoyyy
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who were you to shigeta harua?
you were the girl who had saved him. well, not in a literal sense, but you were the one who solely occupied both his heart and mind, the one who he couldn’t express his feelings for coherently, the one who he was terrified of disappointing.
for him, you had totally flipped over his perspective of everything outside his bubble and changed his world for the better. the girl who’d broke him out of his shell. harua appreciated you for the beautiful human being you were. and he only wished you would take note of it.
the first time you chose shigeta harua was when you were both ten. he had always been reserved during your adventurous endeavours as children, the introverted boy would refuse to speak to anyone in class and barely had any friends. it wasn’t that harua thought he was above socialising, not at all. it was because he had never learned to make friends.
on the other hand, you’d always been surrounded by others; not quite popular, but still able to socialise and harua adored that about you. even as children, his eyes would glisten at you whenever you’d shift your desk towards your friends during lunch to have a hearty conversation.
harua was clumsy, to say the least. there would always be new grazes and bruises littering his skin during secret trips to the parks and playgrounds. one school day, he’d been racing around with a classmate that had wanted to become his new friend. during his session, disregarding a rock lodged in the earth, he tripped over and scraped his leg.
being the sensible one, you rushed over to help him up immediately to assess the injury. but as soon as you reached him you heard screams from your other peers, beckoning you to play; yet you ignored them and focused on the snivelling boy in front of you.
harua tilted his head down to meet your eyes as you were crouched down putting a bandaid on the noticeably painful graze on his knee.
you furrowed your brows when you met his unwavering gaze, “you ought to be careful, you know?”
only to receive a giggle in response.
“you said ‘ought’, ha!”
“teacher said that she has no more bandaids to give you. so i hope you’ll look where you’re running next time.”
since then, he’d been intrigued by your presence; harua wondered whether you know how much he cherished what you had done for him. stupid, yes. but it was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him. strangely, you were very mature for your age already.
at lunchtime, he’d wonder around looking for a place to sit and would often just be alone. this was a regular occurrence that you had observed as you too were interested in the mystery that was shigeta harua.
the distant yet bright boy who existed outside of social happenings. who was he? what was he like? to you, genuine was likely the perfect word to describe his character.
but what did you know? you were only a child.
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the second time you chose him was during a class project.
shigeta harua had always wanted to be your friend but had never gotten the chance to, as if he would even take it. it was sort of a friend crush, if you will.
high school was particularly rough for harua; sixteen years of his life had already passed yet he still felt the same as he did when he was ten. harua was still the same quiet, reserved boy. as if not enough, school work had become more of a burden.
teachers had started setting group projects every week; the most important one being set by your english teacher being to review a unanimously agreed-on novel. the catch was that the pairs would pick each other themselves.
so there sat harua, fiddling with his fingers thinking knowing that he won’t be picked by another classmate; the teacher would pair him up like—
“would you… like to be a pair, harua?”
a soft voice interrupted harua’s train of thought and he lifted his head up only to be met with you, standing awkwardly in front of his desk. harua’s face etched into pure confusion and he looked as if to be processing your statement.
“wait, me? you want to be my partner?” he pointed to himself quizzically as you nodded.
“oh, why?” he queried again.
why would you even pick him, when he was too quiet to work with anyone? was this a prank?
with a deep breath, you blurted out, “you’ve been in my class for years, but i’ve never gotten the chance to, you know, speak to you properly. i don’t think any of us have.” another shaky breath leaves your lips as you finish. “i want to get to know you.”
the last part left him stumped.
“oh.”
“is that the only thing you say?”
as he lifted his arms in defence, a quiet chuckle escaped his mouth and a smile erupted on his face.
you mirrored his expression with a wide grin of your own, “you should smile more.”
another smile took to his expression.
“oh,” harua parted his lips to speak but shied away until you gestured for him to continue. “do you want to start the project at my house, or yours— or even at the library?”
the uneasiness in his words caused you to let out a lighthearted giggle.
“you’re so uptight. but we can do it at your place, i don’t mind.”
“cool!” his face visibly lit up. cute.
at the end of the school day, you observed harua leaning against the school gates, clutching the straps of his backpack and seemingly waiting for someone. with enthusiasm, he waved you over, accentuating the gesture. as you ran over you shot him a knowing smile.
“waiting for me?” the playful remark slipped out.
“let’s go to mine. you have everything you need right?” you nodded.
while setting off, harua would slightly sway against you as you walked together. a habit he’d never been able to get rid of no matter what. the walk to his home wasn’t long; only around ten minutes but when you entered, he offered snacks and water; insisting you’re fed while in his care. if only you noticed how eager he was to care for you.
that night, no work was completed, it was filled with you bombarding harua with personal questions; and him returning them with detailed responses.
tapping your chin, you hummed before posing a question, “what do you think is the best thing about you?”
nothing came out of his mouth for a while.
“even though i’m nothing special, my heart compensates for what i lack.”
“i agree,” you frowned at his words. “but i believe you are special. want to know what my first impression of you was?”
harua gave a hesitant nod of his head while sat crosslegged on the carpeted floor. his room was cozy— or at least more home-like than yours; many books filled the shelves that surrounded you both.
“i thought ‘oh he looks like a nice guy, but he’s just quiet’. i don’t think you’ve said more than like six words to me throughout the whole time we’ve been together as a class. but of course, everyone should value their privacy. i think it’s fine if you’re shier than the rest.” as you spoke, his eyes widened in interest while he nodded along.
a hand rubbed the nape of his neck, “i just don’t know how to make friends. striking conversations and then being able to keep them going is even more difficult.”
“you’re more than capable. i think you’re really cool.”
with glistening pupils and a hopeful glint in his eyes, he responded, “really?“
“of course.”
harua’s stomach felt funny— maybe the snacks he ate had gone bad. but why was his heart racing? perhaps it was the anxiety catching up to him. yeah, that seemed logical.
days transitioned into weeks and weeks into months as you both became impossibly closer. so close that your class would even refer to you both as each other’s halves, one refusing to leave the other’s side. in harua’s eyes, you were a blessing; he finally learnt what it meant to have a trustworthy friend — even if he couldn’t quite come to terms with the feelings he felt towards you.
it was like nothing could break your guys’ bond. there were barely any misunderstandings between you or any animosity really. a genuine friendship.
that was until feelings of love had kindled.
ever since he had come to know you; his whole world shifted. both his heartbeat and his faint courage — harua felt anew, motivated. it was as if your radiating smile and soothing voice were the remedy to heal him. to give him life.
like his world only brightened when you entered it; and his mind couldn’t even start to express immense gratitude that he felt. and that wasn’t a good sign as it only concluded to one thing.
shigeta harua was falling, and he was falling fast.
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the third time you chose harua was in junior year. a book club had been announced to be recruiting members. knowing your friend’s love for books, you’d proposed it to him.
“i know you love reading books and talking about them so here’s your chance!” hands clasped together, you continued attempting to persuade him cheerily. “think of it as a way to socialise with other people too! that way you can have other friends that aren’t me.”
a groan escaped the boy’s mouth, “but you know, i’m not really good at making new friends.” exasperated, his hands make their way to his face in to cover it. “besides, i won’t know anyone there. that’ll make it even more difficult.”
determined to get him to join the club, you brought up a suggestion.
“i can join along with you! reading is also one of my hobbies so i won’t mind. while doing something i enjoy, i’ll be helping you in the process.”
face visibly lit up, harua smiled; you were always so selfless. he almost felt bad for allowing you to join with him. yet he couldn’t deny how much he’d enjoy being in the same club as you.
reluctantly, he nodded.
several days later, you both found yourselves in a classroom with a circle of chairs while surrounded by new faces — well not entirely new, you knew some, but harua definitely didn’t recognise anyone — while being briefed about the club activities.
one boy, fairly attractive, had taken the lead and spoke up.
“welcome to book club! i’m takayama riki, but you can call me taki, and i’m the leader of this club. this is only a mock meeting where we’ll be laying down the foundations and sorting out the books we will cover soon!” friendliness had radiated off of his presence which made him all the more easier to talk to. “before we start, i’d like to answer any questions you guys have right now.” his gaze scanned the room until it had fallen on your raised hand.
pointing to you, he spoke. “you. the pretty girl over there.” chuckles had filled the room from other members as you felt your face heat up.
clearing your throat, you spoke up. “will we ever get to pick the books that we go over or is it all already decided on?”
“eventually you will get to vote on the books. so i assure you to not worry.” taki’s eyes were locked on you as he spoke.
a certain brown-haired boy narrowed his eyes as he observed the exchange between you two and didn’t like it one bit.
a few minutes later, the briefing had ended and you’d been given the liberty to wander around. calling for harua, you held his wrist in your grasp as you dragged him from shelf to shelf.
“look at this book! i swear i’ve been looking for it everywhere. it wasn’t even in the library.” a pout had crept up your face as you whined while grabbing for said book.
with a smile on his face, the boy chuckled and parted his lips to speak before being interrupted.
“hi! i hope i’m not intruding on anything.” the voice was airy. whirling around you met taki’s face.
the boy had inched closer to you and held a hand out. after placing the book you’d previously had in your hands, he spoke. “nice choice, i really like this one too ….?” the words trailed
“ah!” eyes widened, you told him your name. after a nod of his head and a hum of approval, you continued. “i almost forgot. you’ve yet to meet my friend, harua, here too!” with a hand on harua’s lower back, you propelled him forward and encouraged him to engage in conversation.
“uh, hey. i’m shigeta harua, second year.” the boy stuck out a hand awkwardly, unsure what to do.
taki returned the action and shook hands enthusiastically. “oh, i see. it’s nice to meet you! i hope you’ve been enjoying our club so far.”
“i do, i really love literature and enjoy talking about it even more.”
a grin made its way to your face as conversation flowed naturally, happy that harua was finally gaining confidence.
jokingly, you interrupted, “is this some type of boy-bonding thing? you seem to be leaving me out.” the laughs that protruded from them only weakened your expression. “would you wanna get some food with me and harua?” you turned to taki, smiling when he nodded eagerly in response.
eventually, taki had been added into your mini friend group. all three of you, close-knit as ever.
or at least that’s what you thought.
ever since taki had joined, a certain other boy had started to feel somewhat excluded. it didn’t help that he seemed to share all the same interests as you or that your conversations would last a millennium whenever one uttered a word to the other.
worst of all, taki seemed to have feelings for you. just like harua.
harua has never wanted anything really — he wasn’t picky nor spoiled. there wasn’t anything he’d pine over but he wanted you. he needed your attention, your love — just you. the boy had always received loved by his family at home; a plethora of it. maybe harua was simply bewitched by your never ending generosity or the fact someone as pretty, funny, smart and perfect as you paid even a fraction of attention to him.
lame, he knew.
obviously, it wasn’t like you didn’t notice the growing distance either. they say ‘ignorance was bliss’, but for harua, the weight of your emotional and now-physical absence was becoming harder to bear.
that’s why he began to try; harua started to engage in the hushed conversations between you and taki, tagging along to regular hangouts and the lot. despite all his attempts, it never seemed to work. the bridged gap only grew wider and harua was struggling to stay afloat.
the feeling only ate away at him more each passing day. and he couldn’t bear it. so he asked to talk. with you. alone. in private. and most importantly, without taki.
mustering up all his courage, the boy texted you to ask if you could come over; to which you replied affirmatively.
so there you were, sitting on the beanbag in his room. your expression was laced with perplexity, and your eyes had a certain glisten to them. opposite you, harua fiddled with the hem of his brown and white striped shirt, a habit he’d never been able to shake in your presence.
the silence was disconcerting. what was so important that he had asked you to come over so suddenly? negative thoughts raced around your mind, all pointing to the worst-case scenario.
with a clear of his throat, you lifted your head. “i don’t know if i should say this,” a nod of your head prompted him to continue. “but i don’t think we can do this anymore — be friends. you have other priorities.”
‘that aren’t me’, he wanted to add but contained himself.
the only other option was for him to distance himself before he got hurt too. so why did he feel guilty? this was for your own good. harua did it for you. it was for you.
did that even make sense anymore? the knot in his stomach only tightened, churning and tossing awaiting your reply.
“i don’t… understand?” rubbing your thumb over your knuckles, you averted your gaze the carpeted floor. “what do you mean? have i done something wrong?”
harua shook his head tightly in response.
so you raised your voice albeit the confusion that raged within you. “then what…? at the very least i deserve an explanation.”
frustration was bubbling inside of you.
you breathed out. “stop speaking in riddles, harua.”
perhaps you were being too harsh, but you really were failing to understand the cause of this sudden decision. sure you became distant but that didn’t justify what he was doing.
“it’s not you,—“ harua started to speak.
“‘its me’, right? don’t bother explaining if you’re going to repeat some stupid, unoriginal shit.” exasperated, you shook your head. “i thought our friendship was stronger than this. i’m starting to reconsider though.”
why couldn’t you see what he saw? the animosity was spreading, like a plague amongst a small village. the pent-up frustration had been nipping at him slowly, which made him all the more irritable.
and he couldn’t stop the words that escaped his mouth next. “well i’m starting to think your’s and taki’s friendship is stronger.”
a flush coloured his cheeks.
he wasn’t supposed to say that. you weren’t supposed to hear that.
your expression dropped, causing a frown to adorn his face. with eyes narrowed, you held your gaze on him. harua felt like he was transparent; he felt like an open book. almost as if you possessed x-ray vision and were able to read him — to see through him.
and shigeta harua hated that the most.
he didn’t want you to do that; the fear of being totally understood consumed him. would you leave him once you finally saw through his feelings? would you consider them to be ulterior motives?
the silence was eating away at him.
talk. please talk. those words repeated themselves over and over in his mind. like a mantra.
“this was all about taki?” a breath of relief was let out once your melodious voice filled the atmosphere. but he still wasn’t happy about the contents either.
“no…?” for a ‘definitive statement’, it came out more very question-like.
despite the inner turmoil, harua raised a brow after noticing your expression.
unable to contain the sly grin that took to your face, you slapped a hand over your mouth before letting out a chuckle.
“you were jealous the whole time?”
fuck. you had caught on. the realisation shocked harua. it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
meekly nodding his head, he choked on air.
“ahh, you’re so cute,” the last word visibly perplexed the boy opposite you, to the point where you could see a big red question mark flat on his adorable face. “i consider both you and taki to be my friends. i like both of you equally. although, i do sort of favour you more. but don’t tell taki i said that.” with an index finger to harua’s lips, you hushed him.
oh. ‘friend’. despite everything he initially thought, you didn’t know. surprisingly, a look of relief washed over his features.
looking down at your finger on his lips, he forced out a remark.
“it’s not that funny…”
the gentle pout that former on his face was too adorable for you to ignore.
as your expression softened, your eyes widened and you straightened up.
“here, i’ll make you a promise. is that okay?” you spoke in a hushed tone, as if afraid to be overheard.
curiosity laced his eyes as the boy leaned closer, head tilted.
“a promise?”
“that i’ll always be here for you. you’re one of my good friends, so i’ll stick by you.”
awaiting his response, guilt washed over you. harua was right. you weren’t making an effort. so you mentally dedicated yourself to this one task. hesitantly, his eyes searched yours. harua wasn’t doubtful of your promise. but he was sure that he would be hurt in the process. nevertheless, the boy stuck out his pinky finger.
“promise?”
after intertwining your finger with his, you curtly nodded.
“promise.”
harua hated how you managed to always possess his heart in one hand. unbeknownst to you, you played with.
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a lie. you were a liar.
by senior year, you, harua and taki were still present — and flourishing, you may add — members of the book club. it was enjoyable, and it was your last year so you decided to make the most of it.
harua was a very observant person, he could read into situations well enough. which is why it puzzled him to see that something had bloomed between you and taki. it wasn’t new, even while juniors, you had been sort of taken with taki. but it was totally different now.
harua didn’t hate takiyama riki — he could never bring himself to — he envied him. what did the other boy have that he didn’t? the looks? the confidence? the intelligence?
the boy didn’t consider himself to be that good looking; more average-looking if anything (though you would disagree). to be honest, while struggling heavily with his confidence levels, maybe insecurity had gotten the better of him. but most of all, his grades at school were decent, harua wasn’t an over-achiever or academically gifted. he was normal. average. nothing special.
a pure contrast to taki. popular, handsome, very smart, confident but not too prideful, and most importantly, knew how to woo you.
fuck. these thoughts only dug harua a deeper hole. he could win your heart. definitely.
however, those words only dulled each time they were repeated.
nothing changed, when you all had attended hangouts. once while meeting at a local cafe, you and taki sat next to each other, harua opposite you both. engrossed in conversing animatedly, harua noticed how you’d act around the other boy. brushing arms, touching his shoulder, reaching for his hand, and the likes. the thawing pain that persevered in his chest went unnoticed as well as the knot in his throat. he observed your light flirty remarks as well as your melodious fits of giggles that strew along the atmosphere at every word that left taki’s lips. as if ignoring harua, you carried along your antics; excluding him.
this wasn’t a one-time thing. as weeks passed by you’d become more interested in the boy known as takiyama riki. facetiming harua, heat flushing your cheeks as you gushed about taki. the worst thing is that this crush wasn’t not reciprocated. all the reserved boy heard in taki’s presence was your name, the way you smiled, the way you spoke, the way you had touched his shoulder that day.
of course. it seemed that harua had fell too much into like and ended up in love. that everyone was falling in love yet he was the only one falling behind.
everything completely shifted once his parents had divorced. as the boy’s best friend, you had already known that his parents never had the best relationship; always arguing and bitter to each other but never to harua. it was a few months into the term. this had taken a toll on your best friend; he had begun to isolate himself, become more irritable as well as wallow in pity. for you, it was hard seeing him like that and pained you deeply.
which was why you devoted time into helping him recover. at first you had let him spend some time alone in seclusion — which was well needed for him — but then you started to take an active role; visiting his house often and bringing food, video games, even sometimes bringing taki along too. you did your best to cheer him up.
during those times, you began to spend less time with taki and more with harua. that alone almost brought a smile to the boy’s face. almost. it was comical how desperate he was for your attention. yet he only craved it more.
however, he did start to get better with time; harua began to cope. with your help too. from the slight bounce in his step to the colourful expression formed on his face, the old him had more-or-less returned. but so did the ‘old’ you.
after regaining himself, harua noticed you distancing yourself again; only awakening the dormant insecurities that lied within him.
the painfully-obvious ones too.
since taki had been the head leader of the book club, it was his responsibility to deal with funds and the likes. due to low funding, the school board had decided to cut their budget by more than half, which would meant that it would have to be shut down permanently. this was not well-received by the taller boy, the book club was his pride and joy; he had put so much effort in for it all to be snatched away last minute with not a single regard to those who cherished it.
obviously, you had not been notified until later on in the day the news had been broken to him. heartbroken, the boy had called you. and you ran to him in a heartbeat.
though, that same day, something horrible had happened to harua too. his father. perhaps he was too fragile, too vulnerable, too weak. that would make sense because he couldn’t stand it when his father in a blind fit of rage had insulted him. harua didn’t blame his father, although he should’ve. the divorce was his fault.
his fault. that two-word phrase, that seven-letter sentence had echoed in his conscience. on the verge of tears, he returned to his room bitterly. why couldn’t he fight back? why wasn’t he strong enough?
yet in that moment, all his mind flickered to was you. his then-ragged breaths were becoming more stable and his expression slowly softened. the only solution seemed to be to call you. so that, he did.
the incessant buzzing of your phone on the dark black nightstand bounced off the wall of taki’s room. on the edge of the king bed, you had wrapped the boy in a loving embrace as you reached over to turn your phone upside down after coming to one conclusion.
harua could wait.
taki had nuzzled his face into your shoulder as you rocked back and forth. and just minutes later, your vibrating phone had finally stopped.
“it’s not your fault. i knew you did all you could to save it,” lolling him to a sense of calm, you whispered softly. “stuff like this happens. don’t let it affect you too much. hm?”
muffled, the taller boy spoke into your neck. “i’ll try but—“
swiftly, he was cut off by the light buzzing of your phone again and pulled away from your warmth. “that sounds pretty important. you should answer.” opening your arms to him, a grin erupted on your face.
“i’ll get it later. what’s important to me now is you.”
oh, if only shigeta harua knew you where you were, cradling the boy he envied in your arms and avoiding his call.
after two-three of more attempts, harua gave up. and with a finger caught between his teeth, millions of possibilities raced around his mind as he mentally searched for a reason of why you weren’t taking his calls. perhaps you were busy. maybe you had just forgot your phone and it was on silent? or it could’ve been that you didn’t have your phone at you on that moment! that’s why the boy decided to wait it out. twenty minutes wasn’t that long.
surely you weren’t deliberately avoiding him. right?
but twenty minutes became forty and forty minutes stretched into an hour. that’s thirty-six hundred seconds without a response. if harua wasn’t totally frantic then he definitely was now. scrambling to put on a scarf and gather his belongings, the boy filed slowly down his house stairs while making his way to the door.
“where on earth do you think you’re off to, young man?” a rough voice grumbled at him.
“out.” inhaling sharply, harua replied curtly before pulling the door and stepping out into the cold breeze. the sun’s deceiving presence shone radiantly despite the biting wind that nipped at the boy. huffing lightly, he began making his way to your house. only a fifteen minute-ish walk from his. passing the park nearby, he’d become a little more skittish, especially since you hadn’t even so much as sent a text back.
finally arriving at your place, shutting his eyes closed, he took a deep breath before knocking deftly on the wooden door of your home.
a soft voice echoed from inside.
“coming!”
the door unlocked and your sister had appeared from behind it. confusion etched her expression and she tilted her head.
“harua? she’s not here. hasn’t been for a couple of hours now.” shrugging her shoulders, the boy nodded, head tilted up as he watched as the clouds began to cover the ball of fire lodged into the blue sky, before posing a short question.
“do you know where she went? i’ve been calling her for quite some time now.”
your sister’s expression had softened after recognising the frantic shake in his voice.
“you could try taki’s. i think i heard her say something about—“ but before being able to finish, harua had already spun on his heels and hurried away. a giggle escaped from the girl as she shook her head in disbelief before shutting the door.
what were you doing with taki? something felt wrong. stomach churning, his walking pace sped up as he broke into a light sprint.
shigeta harua hadn’t visited taki’s home that much, but was sure of it’s location. heads turned at his sprinting, but he didn’t mind. all that was on his mind was you. and it wasn’t an exaggeration that he was lovesick for you. so so lovesick.
but harua was also becoming sick of that love.
his pace remained constant before he felt something hit his forehead. a droplet. it was raining. in frustration, he began to run faster to get to cover. taki’s house was only a few minutes away now. harua reckoned he could reach it without getting too drenched. but it would all be worth it.
he would get to see you and finally confess.
expressing his feelings aloud would free him from the overbearing thoughts. from having to carry the heavy burden of possessing feelings for one of his best friends.
harua’s own thoughts distracted him for a while before he looked up to realise that he’d already arrived at the house. catching his breath, hands covered his knees as he panted. mentally preparing himself, he knocked lightly before taking a few steps back. taki’s mum had opened the door and smiled warmly at the boy. strangely, that brought relief to him.
“they’re just upstairs. come on in, it’s very cold and you’re drenched!” moving away from the door, harua stepped inside before looking to the woman. “don’t you remember? it’s the first room on the left.” she laughed at his visible cluelessness.
following her instructions, his feet led him hastily to taki’s room. a normal, brown and wooden door. but what was peculiar was that it was slightly ajar, meaning he could peek into it. a horrible feeling bubbled in harua as he slowly inched closer. spying on your two best friends was a very bad thing to do. despite that, he couldn’t control the nagging curiosity.
so he did what he did best. shigeta harua observed. you and taki on his bed, with the latter’s head in your shoulder.
‘that’s just something friends do though’, the thought repeated over and over on his conscious.
the other boy lifted his head before locking eyes with you. yet harua observed something familiar in taki’s eyes. and he was reminded of the first day you and him met the other boy. at book club, where you and taki has gazed at each other.
then your hand came to caress his cheek slowly as the taller boy leaned in to collide his lips with yours. with a few seconds, you pulled away and harua saw the lovestruck gaze that you held and was reminded of his own when looking at you. that specific moment was when the boy realised something important.
shigeta harua would never be the one you loved.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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sadhours · 1 year ago
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omg bestie ok I’ll forget this idea so I need to tell u now- if u don’t like it or something always tell me. ILL STOP AFTER THIS HAHAHA
giving dom billy a handjob in a bathtub. You convince him to let you be in charge for once, He’s the little spoon and he’s just so fucking vocal and moaning so much. When he cums you take him by surprise by only stopping briefly before continuing again. He’s so shocked but turned on and he’s starting to losing his dominance, he becomes over stimulated but doesn’t use his safe word. At one point he even says ‘it’s too much’ or something yet he’s bucking himself into your hand and cums even more. It’s the hottest thing ever
ofc he takes payback in another form- maybe the next day?( I’ll leave that to ur imagination to write go wild bestie)
Heheh I love you ❤️
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Sometimes Billy allowed you a bit of control. It wasn’t often but occasionally he would let you comfort him. Like now. He had a rough day of classes, college was harder than he anticipated and obtaining his major in marine biology was more demanding than he imagined. He had a lab today, he was on his feet for hours and he mentioned something about being sore. You suggested a bath. And Billy thought, ya know what, he didn’t take enough baths. You had the tub, might as well use it. He was privy to showers but you were an advocate for bubble baths. So he said fuck it and agreed.
He didn’t anticipate you getting in first and insisting he relax on top of you. Billy didn’t usually like being little spoon, he liked being able to hold you. But you insisted he deserved a bit of comfort and let’s face it, worship.
So that’s how he ended up with his back pressed against your chest in the tub. You’d helped wash his hair and torso, admiring the curves of his muscle as you massaged the soap against his skin. Then your hands got lower and lower and well… his thick flaccid cock was just there and you were pretty obsessed with it so you couldn’t not grab onto it. And Billy’s only human, it doesn’t stay soft for long, not with the way you squeeze the base. It’s fun to watch it grow but it also surges heat between your legs. You kiss against his neck, working your hand up and down his length languidly. He makes the prettiest sounds, little whines and whimpers.
Billy has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen. Nine inches— cut. The fucking thing almost reached his belly button it was so long. The slightest curve to it. Thick and heavy, the tip always gets the nicest shade angry red and God, does he get wet! Pale precum leaking from the tip. You find yourself totally captivated by it. It’s the best looking dick. Better than any you’ve seen. You’ve even suggested maybe he had a future in porn, surely anyone who saw it would worship it.
And his balls! You were equally infatuated with them. A good handful, not too low but not too high. They were sensitive, you loved to lick all over them, suck one gently into your mouth. Loved the way he would whine and whimper.
Billy kept himself very well groomed, blonde curls trailing from his lower abdomen to right above the base of his cock; the rest always shaved clean. He told you it felt better that way.
As you stroke him, he lays his head against your shoulder and these gorgeous, lovely moans tumble from his lips. You can’t help but think of how badly he deserves this, his pretty cock is worthy of all your attention and adoration.
You work him over in your hand, watching the motions in a bit of trance. In fact, you’re so enthralled by the view that you barely feel his weight on you. And moments where sex becomes solely for Billy’s pleasure weren’t rare. Because let’s face it, you don’t get any physical stimulation from having his cock in your hand or shoved down your throat but mentally, you were absolutely euphoric. Anything you could do to make him feel good, you would.
You curve your hand on the upstroke, making sure to run the pad of your thumb against his slit down to where his most sensitive spot is, where the head meets the shaft. When you do so, Billy tilts his head back and moans all pretty for you. A smile tugs at your lips as you pepper kisses along his exposed neck, “You like that, baby?”
“Mhm,” he moans softly, “feels so good.”
You bite at his skin while you begin to stroke him faster and he grabs ahold of your left hand, lacing your fingers. The water sloshes around you due the pump of your hand and the minuscule thrust of his hips. Your whole body erupts in tingles, turned on by what you’re able to do to him. Billy gasps out as you squeeze the base of him and hold still, his eyelids fluttering open so he can watch.
Once you know he’s looking, you continue stroking him but this time your grip is tighter and you begin to focus on the top of his shaft, ignoring the head and the base. Your head swims because he’s just so fucking hard and you’re starting to feel a little feral, eager to make him climax.
He whines, a slew of ‘em while his eyebrows shoot up and his mouth falls open. You know he’s close and you kiss his jaw, giggling softly while jerking him faster.
“Shit,” he curses, hips stuttering up while he lets go of your hand to grip the edge of the tub, “gonna c-cum.”
You bite his jaw and begin to include his tips in the strokes, not slowing down even a bit. As he starts to climax, you tightly wrap your fingers along his base and hold it steady. Lips parting with a smile as you watch his orgasm shoot out of him, smoothing your left hand over his hip.
He pants, chest heaving while he comes down from his high but he’s still hard. And you’re curious if he could go again so quickly. You giggle again and kiss his jaw some more before continuing to pump his dick in your hand.
Billy heaves a choked out sound, high pitched and shocked. It’s almost a squeak. His whole body jerks with it but he settles against you, rolls his hips into it as he moans some more. It excites you more, he’s done this to you many times, you know the feeling. It almost hurts but yet feels so good, too good to make it stop. He makes no sounds of protest, so you keep stroking him, using the cum that had dripped back down as lube which makes it even easier to pump him in your hand. You’ve got him whimpering, squeezing his eyes shut as he keeps his head tilted against your shoulder.
He gasps out after a minute, “Babe.. too much.”
The way his hips are bucking up into your hand tell you he’s loving it.
“I know you can cum again,” you coo, “I know you’re already close.”
Billy grits his teeth, eyebrows furrowing as he writhes above you. It’s quite the situation to see, your roles reversed. Usually he’s the dominant one, has you crying as he pulls orgasm after earth shattering orgasm from you. The stroke of your hand is a little worthless at this point, he’s fucking himself up into your fist until he’s spilling out for the second time. You keep pumping him in your hand until he grabs a hold of your wrist to interrupt.
“You fucking brat,” he mumbles with a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
“You love it.”
-
You and Billy get home from the bar on campus. The two of you have class in the morning so you behaved yourselves. Only a couple of drinks, a nice pleasant buzz warming your body. You stand at the bathroom counter, tying your hair up so you can get started on your bedtime routine. As your washing your face, Billy comes in and makes his way to the toilet. He lifts the seat and pulls himself out his jeans to pee. It’s all so domestic, the way he doesn’t care that you’re in here. He’s the only man you’ve seen pee and he’s actually scolded you for watching once or twice. But hey, you were just curious. You didn’t have a dick of your own.
He sees you peeking over and he shakes his head, “You’re such a weirdo.���
“I’m not weird!” you defend yourself as you squeeze toothpaste on your toothbrush.
Billy flushes after tucking himself away and turns to you, “Wouldn’t you think it was weird if I watched you pee?”
“No,” you admit around your toothbrush, scooting aside so he can wash his hands.
“Yeah, well I won’t ‘cause it’s weird,” he says, drying off his hands before reaching for his own toothbrush and the paste.
You shrug and the two of you stand side by side, looking at each other in the mirror as you brush your teeth. Billy always gives you this excited, giddy feeling. You swear you’ve never felt this way about anyone ever. Since you’d started first, you’re finished first. As Billy leans forward to spit into the sink, you slide your fingers into the curls at the bottom of his scalp. Not exactly sure why, you just want to touch him. Can’t help yourself. He rinses his mouth out and stands, turning to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His lips meet yours, tongue sliding across your lower lip before meeting your own. It’s easy to melt into it, melt into Billy.
He pulls away with a smile, “Minty.”
You roll your eyes, pushing his shoulder before making the short trip to your bedroom. You change into your nightgown, turn on the tiny TV and crawl into your bed. Billy follows, stripping down to his underwear before crawling in behind you. He grabs onto your waist and pulls you close, kissing your neck.
“Billy,” you giggle, “we have class tomorrow.”
“So what?” he asks, lips grazing your skin while his hand travels down and pushes your nightgown up and over your thighs. Billy’s got this way about him that has you melt against his touch, your legs start to part as you feel his fingertips dance against the skin of your thighs.
“We need to sleep tonight,” you mumble, tilting your head to give him more purchase of your neck.
“Uh huh,” Billy sits up between your legs and peels down your underwear. “You’ll get some sleep tonight…. Eventually.”
He smiles smugly down at you, getting his thighs under yours as he tilts your hips up. Your body ignites in anticipation, giggling softly as you watch him carefully. His eyes meet yours before he purses his lips, letting a trail of saliva drool out of his mouth and down to your cunt. A gasp falls out of your lips, watching him intently while he brings his fingers to between your legs. Billy’s fingers spread his spit through your folds, mixing with your slick while he holds down on your hip with his left hand. His lips tug up in smirk, watching the way your legs tremble at his touch. And he’s barely done anything.
“That feel good, baby?” he coos like you’re stupid, it shouldn’t turn you on the way it does.
You nod at him, bringing your hands up to your chest while attempting to roll your hips but Billy’s smoothing his hand out across your navel to still your movements, pressing you into the mattress while he rubs his thumb against your clit in circles.
“Billy…” you whine out, arching at his touch.
He spreads your pussy lips apart with his fingers, leaning forward to let another pool of salvia drip out of my mouth and onto your folds. Then he slaps his fingers against your cunt, grinning deviously while you yelp out from the contact. It surges wetness from you and leaves you squirming under his grip.
“Billy, more,” you beg and he listens, slipping a single digit into your wet heat. It feels nice but it’s not quite enough. You’re absolutely eager for more, need him to stretch you out. “More, more!”
He tsks, pulls his finger out and looks down at you with his lips pouted, “So goddamn needy.”
You whimper, wiggling your hips in frustration. You knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut but you’re desperate and sometimes Billy drags it out and spends way too much time teasing. He grabs a hold of your thighs, spreads them further apart and looks down at you.
“You won’t get what you want by being a brat,” he tells you with a raised brow.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying to still your hips.
He hums, “You’re sorry?”
You nod, “Yes, sir. I’ll be good. I promise.”
Billy smiles and reaches back down to your cunt, circling his fingers along your entrance and you do everything you can to not roll your hips. In a swift movement, he enters you with his digits. Two of them. Sometimes it actually pays to be a brat. Billy might act like he won’t give you what you want but he’s not going to torture you. He wants you to feel good, he wants to please you.
You moan out softly, eyes fluttering shut while your head tilts back against the pillows. He pumps his fingers slowly, curling them up to press against your g-spot. He presses his left hand on your navel again, holding you down as he fucks you with his fingers.
“Look at me, babe,” he demands, “Wanna see those pretty eyes while I make you cum.”
You obey, opening your eyes to meet his blue ones. His pupils are big, dark with lust. It makes your body even hotter, the way he looks at you.
“There she is,” he coos with a smirk, slipping a third finger inside of you. Another moan falls from you and you struggle to keep your eyes open.
“Fuck, Billy…” you whine.
The wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt is delicious, his eyes glance from between your legs to your face and the satisfied smile on his face is intoxicating. He curls his fingers as he drags them against your tight walls. Your stomach tightens as that familiar feeling erupts through you, makes your toes curl and your face feel hot.
“I’m… i’m coming,” you confess, grabbing onto his arm that’s pinning you to the bed while you come down around his fingers, clenching the digits while you cry out.
Billy doesn’t stop, though. He works his fingers even harder, pulling more cries and moans from you. It’s brutally overwhelming and you whimper out, clawing at his arm.
“Billy.. too much, ah!”
He bites his lip as your eyes meet and then he says, “Payback, baby. You’re gonna cum again.”
You immediately know he’s referring to the day before when you did the same to him in the tub. And while it’s a little painful because you’re sensitive, you’d really rather he didn’t stop. He lowers himself between your legs, still pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt as he licks through your folds. Your hands immediately grab at his curls, back arching while he laps at your clit.
“Oh my fucking god!” you cry out, thighs trembling.
Billy hums against you, lips curling up as he swirls his tongue around your clit. You tug at his hair, back arching up. You’re far past being overstimulated, begging for him to pull another orgasm from you.
“Billy…” you moan, closing your eyes tight as he sucks and licks at your folds.
His fingers work harder as his lips wrap around your clit and it sends you over the edge for a second time. You writhe against him, thighs trapping his head between them while you hold on tightly to his hair. When you come down and release him, he moves up and cups your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you wrap your arms around him, sighing into the kiss. As he presses his body flush against yours, you can feel his erection in his briefs pressed against your sore pussy.
You giggle softly, pushing his curls off his forehead as you look up at him, “Fuck me.”
Billy laughs, it’s breathless and beautiful. Like he can’t believe you’re asking for more.
“Ya sure? Can you handle it?” he asks softly, eyes a little glassy.
You nod, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down, “Wanna make you feel good.”
Billy hums and kisses you again, helping kick his briefs off. He reaches between your bodies to grab a hold of his cock, dragging the tip through your soaked folds. Your body jolts at the stimulation, forcing a giggle out of you and he smiles, looking down at you.
“You sure you’re sure?” he licks his lips, “Don’t wanna hurt you.”
“It hurts so good,” you defend, “please fuck me.”
Billy exhales sharply, clearly affected by your words before he slips his cock inside your throbbing hole. You gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist which only pushes him deeper inside you. He groans, grabbing onto your jaw as he looks down at you.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he mumbles, which makes you giggle because you’d told him too much earlier and he didn’t stop. You didn’t say the safe word, though. You never have with Billy. Never needed to.
“Shut up,” you say around your giggles and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Want you to fuck me until I can’t think anymore.”
Billy inhales sharply, thrusts his hips hard against you and don’t miss the glazed over lustful look in his eyes. You know he loves when you talk like that.
“Yeah?” he grunts, “You’re such a good little cock slut. Want me to use this tight fuck hole?”
“Yes, sir,” you manage to gasp out.
His hips piston harder and faster, he pulls back just enough so he can loosely hold onto your throat and hip. The force of his thrusts make your tits bounce, makes your whole body shake underneath him. And he’s true to his word, he uses you like his own personal fuck toy. Billy’s face contorts in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and his adorable nose scrunched up in concentration. You watch his face until you can’t anymore, the sensation of a third orgasm creeping up on you and your eyes cross before they squeeze shut. You’re practically screaming, noises uncontrollable while Billy drills into you relentlessly. Once your body seizes with the third, incredibly tiring climax, Billy pulls out and crawls up so his cock is in your face. He jerks himself a few times before shooting across your face. A few drops land on your awaiting tongue but when he’s so riled up, his sim is shit and he gets most of it on your cheeks and hair.
He pants above you as you swallow what’s in your mouth. You keep your eyes shut just in case. It doesn’t feel like any landed on them but to be safe, you wait patiently for him to clean you up. And after he does, he lays beside you, lights a cigarette and pats your thigh.
“You did good, doll. Always such a good girl for me.”
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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 1 year ago
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HIIII!!!!!!!!
I LOVE your human au and would be delighted If you could expound on Wally's relationship with the cast and how he views/ is viewed by others <3
I hope you have a good day/ night whenever you are and I wish your pillow always be cold 🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️
ofc! i've been thinking about it a lot!
i would like to begin by saying that, as with canon, everyone likes Wally. as they should! i think that's an Important tidbit that should always carry across, at least in some way
Wally is... i think it's also important that he's a kind person. he loves deeply, is very forgiving and accepting, and he's just. he's a bizarre little man, and he's wonderful! there is not a malicious bone in his body! he finds delight & beauty in everything he can. he looks at his friends and is filled with deep contentment and joy and love. he's not blind to their flaws (and certainly not his own), but he never minds. those flaws are part of his friends, and he loves every bit of them!
and ok. Wally is not nearly as naive in this au as he is in canon. bc he's had a different life! he's had a rough go of it! unfortunately there's next to no way for normal people to grow up completely innocent & naive & pure, yk? life is harsh. Wally is not spared. he's incredibly kind despite it all. he's still in love with life and humanity. he smiles at strangers in the street & stops to watch bees pollinate flowers & sees parts of his friends in everything. he has many intense feelings even if he doesn't really show it or know how to convey them! he believes in the inherent goodness of people & beauty of being human!
there is a... very wide range of how people (outside of the Neighbors) view Wally. a lot of people find him slightly unsettling and really fucking weird, and well. he is! he's strange, and it's a wonderful part of him! but many don't see it that way. so he was ostracized by his peers in school (all the way through college), his coworkers (the few times he held a job before becoming a full-time artist), and most people in his local community. they just don't get him. they don't See him. Wally doesn't mind all that much! all of the important people in his life accept and love him for who he is, and he wouldn't even think of changing to fit the mold others want to shove him into.
then of course there are the people who treat him like a child, bc ableism is a thing and Wally's very noticeably autistic (even if people only notice subconsciously). this i think would be one of the very few things that outright annoys Wally, even if he doesn't really show it. but then there's the people who, while they might not get him (especially not to the extent his friends do), they accept him. like much of the art community he's involved in - even if a lot of them completely misinterpret his personality / mannerisms. they're all like "ohhhh he's so mysterious and ruminant" that's the 'tism, babes
BUT! YOU ASKED ABOUT SPECIFICALLY HIM AND THE NEIGHBORS! we'll save Barnaby for last since that's. uh. i have a lot to say about it. it's Very Complex in my mind
collectively, all of them love Wally a lot. which i've said! We Know! they also (mostly subconsciously) look for his approval - he's got a certain level of charisma that makes them all want him to like them. which, he does. obviously. unconditionally. and they're all protective of him & very patient with him. i think that's both a result of his natural rizz, how kind & patient he is with them, how well they understand him, and how he's a pacifist. he's their guy and woe befall anyone who dares cross him. (essentially, all of them collectively: the only constant is suffering - omg Wally!!! 💖💖💖)
we'll start with Frank! before he got to know Wally, he thought that Wally was an aloof asshole who thought he was better than everyone. then they started to directly interact and Frank realized "oh you're literally the nicest person i've ever met & also surprisingly relatable. you're just like me fr'. did he have a lil crush on Wally? yes. im saying it now literally everyone in the friend group (except local lesbians poppy & sally) has had at least a teensy crush on Wally at some point. but Frank deeply appreciates Wally's company & his complete lack of judgement. and how he gladly will let Frank talk for hours on end, chiming in with questions to prompt him to talk more! he also appreciates Wally's calm demeanor and vibes. he's one of those people that even when overwhelmed, Frank can handle having Wally around. he's like a human capybara! if Frank needs/wants a buddy with him for Situations, his go-to (after Julie ofc, though depending on the situation he'd pick Wally first) is Wally, since Wally Gets It. also Wally is unafraid to be like "wow, this kinda sucks! we're leaving", thus giving Frank an easy out. they just get along very well! ofc Frank can get frustrated with Wally, but then again he gets frustrated w/ everyone. but since Wally is patient with him, Frank tries to return the favor. also he's gotten into several fistfights over Wally's honor
Julie! she loves Wally so fucking much! he's her lil guy! even if he's kinda boring in a way! he's not very good at games or sports & would rather go on a relaxing walk than play Just Dance, but hey! he always makes Attempts, and she appreciates that! when they were younger and Julie & Sally & Poppy had girls nights (they continue to have girls' nights but everyone is involved. they still call it that tho), they'd often include Wally bc, yk! he's chill like that! Julie also massively respects his ability to say "no thank you" to anything without compromise. if he ever says it to her, she knows that he doesn't mean Any ill will by it! there's a sort of comfort in that! she knows she can be herself around him! also he's just... very good company. he's a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, a willing victim & confidante for elaborate schemes! he visits her at work Purely because he knows it delights her to see a friendly face in the middle of a grueling shift! he's always been a bit of a lighthouse to her!
and while Sally can be a little exasperated with how literal Wally is, she finds no small amount of solidarity with him As A Fellow Artist. when they first became friends, they caught on like a house on fire! she mentioned the artistic side of theater, and Wally was immediately on board. then and going forward Wally is always willing and more than happy to assist with painting sets, art advertisements for her performances, etc! they have little brainstorming sessions where she rambles about what she wants sets / costumes to look like, and Wally sketches them out! since Sally was a theater kid and goes on to work in that department (locally, usually), Wally often gets first read of her scripts. Sally highly values Wally's opinion and input. if he's free, sometimes he helps teach the actors' the show choreography. Sally runs through it with him, Wally soaks up the moves like a sponge & memorizes them, and hey! he loves to teach! Sally just. she loves him a lot. they're both artists of a sophisticated nature <3
Howdy thinks Wally is real neat! Wally is good company and is (often unintentionally) hilarious! he's also like... the one person Howdy refuses to scam in any way shape or form. tricking grandmas into buying more than they need? no sweat. tricking Wally into spending slightly more money than intended? Howdy feels like a fucking monster. but yeah, Howdy's just always delighted to see Wally! he likes Wally's unique view of the world and often takes it into consideration when making decisions. when he's stuck on something, he thinks WWWD (what would Wally do!). Howdy also is the one who most often accompanies Wally to his art shows & the like, bc he knows that Wally will accept the first price offer he hears - and Howdy is determined that his incredible works of art are paid for their worth! nobody is gotta cheat his pal outta a single cent! he just likes having Wally around, you know?
Wally & Poppy have an interesting relationship, i think! he tells the cashier "she asked for no pickles" for her! she makes sure he always has a soft place to land! he kinda confuses her, but she finds it endearing in a way? he displays a personality/behavioral quirk and she's like "oh. well alright!" and rolls with it very gracefully. they appreciate each other's mellow demeanor and proclivity for peace. Poppy knows she can always have a nice, quiet conversation with him over tea (even if he doesn't drink it!). and he's always willing to help with anything and everything she needs, no question. i think i've made this joke on this blog before but! in way! he's her emotional support animal lmao. a hand to squeeze to death on an airplane! also it's funny for me to picture a 6'8 woman hunched behind this 5'2 shrimp of a man as if he can hide her
it takes a little bit for Eddie to adjust to Wally's bizarre nature! like i've said, Eddie connects with the group when they're all in their late 20s. he hasn't had over a decade of being friends with Wally like the rest of them. he likes Wally plenty! definitely grows to love him! but it's an adjustment. Wally consistently startles him very easily (Wally is naturally quiet and has a habit of appearing out of nowhere), and Eddie has a hard time getting a read on him. most people do! and also Wally is very handsome/pretty, and that throws Eddie off a bit (it's hard to think when someone so attractive is staring directly into your eyes without blinking) but once he gets somewhat used to Wally & understands as much as he can, he very much appreciates Wally's company & friendship! they find (somewhat subconscious) solidarity in being the kindest and most helpful people in the clique! and Wally is a wonderful island of peace in a turbulent world. Eddie never minds sitting with him for a cup of coffee in the early morning during his route, even if it means his workday ends a few minutes later than usual.
other supporting cast like Wally as well. Ms. Beagle kinda views him as a second son! the Joyful siblings will always find him a little weird and unsettling, but they're nice enough to him. Howdy's family thinks he's neat. etc! but lets talk about Barnaby!
Wally is literally everything to Barnaby. that's his person. there is literally no one that comes before Wally in his eyes and heart. their relationship is and always has been very nontraditional To Me (in this au and somewhat how i view them overall! its complicated!). Wally never subscribed to or understood societal norms, and as a result, Barnaby wound up pretty much shunning them as well when it comes to his lil buddy. their relationship isn't romantic - Wally is very aro and Barnaby just does not feel that way about him, not really. but at the same time it's certainly not entirely platonic!
neither of them can imagine being separated. they met in 7th grade and have been glued together ever since. they've been through some tough shit together! they know each other better than anyone! you cannot have one without the other! they're more than a package deal - they're Inseparable! Barnaby has had many a nightmare of Wally leaving in one way or another, and it scares him more than anything. to him, he can weather any storm as long as Wally is by his side. they obviously don't spend every moment together, but at the end of the day they always come home to each other.
Barnaby just... he loves and respects and values Wally so much. he wants his approval, his attention, his company. sometimes he scares himself by considering the lengths he'd go to for Wally. there is no one he's more comfortable with or feels he understands / is understood by. if somebody has a problem with Wally, they have a problem with Barnaby. if Wally jumped off a cliff, Barnaby would not hesitate to leap after him! Wally says jump, Barnaby asks how high! he's not a violent person at all, but teen Barnaby once broke a bully's jaw for goin' a little too far w/ Wally
is their relationship a smidge unhealthy? a lil codependent? yes <3 yes it is <3 but we all know that Wally would never use this against Barnaby. on his side of the coin, Barnaby is his person as well! Wally has never imagined his life without Barnaby because it just does not occur to him that that's a possibility. there are many things that only Barnaby knows about Wally, sides only he's seen. there's complete & unconditional trust/love between them. they hotbox Home together <3
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joesalw · 1 year ago
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I sent these quotes to another blog a while ago and thought it would be a good time to bring them back here. Because a lot of people say they don't understand how or why people like Joe and that we don't know him and only like the person Taylor painted in her songs. A big reason for this is that these people never really saw him as much more than a pawn and Taylor's boyfriend or tried to get to get to know him beyond that. You're not required to do that ofc, but once you make up lies to fit your story that's other thing. My point is these are just a few things people who actually interacted with Joe up close and personal have said about him. Mostly all different people, because everyone who works with him has something good to say about him. Even people who randomly meet him seem to get enrupted right away. So this is to show what people who know him (co-workers, directors, his school teachers) say as opposed to the shitty stuff swifties say without even being in the same room with this man for 5 minutes to make people believe he's some kind of monster. I would even say there's a few things being said that are not very common for people to compliment in a man.
"He's just so gentle and sincere. I felt very safe with him."
"Joe isn't nearly as reserved as Nick, but it's a tendency to let others have the floor. He just tends to be more interested in everyone else, what they're saying, which is a lovely quality"
"he's so sensitive and thoughtful"
"there's something very soulful about Joe as a person. He's very introspective. He's exceptionally kind, as a person. There’s just something gorgeous about him, as a person, and that goes into the acting. He can do uncertainty brilliantly and he can do vulnerability brilliantly."
"Joe’s instinct as an actor is always to push away from the obvious and into ambiguity. He’s very quietly spoken. He’s not brash at all. He’s a gentle, intelligent guy. "
"Joe is such a naturally kind and warm and welcoming human being,”
"I don’t think people will be surprised by just how much everyone loves Joe Alwyn, how much everyone fell in love with Joe Alwyn… he’s a true English gent. I completely owe my heart to Joe Alwyn.”
“Yeah Joe Alwyn does come in and steal the hearts of everyone around. He’s just like the most genuine, kind, present human. Funny too! Real funny.”
"I know Joe a little and like him an enormous amount. Such a phenomenal talent and wonderful human
"He has to be one of the nicest people I have ever met and I know it might sound like I'm saying it to ease everyone's mind, but no genuinely he was the sweetest and he was super worried about me all the time"
"I really liked acting with him. He's really a gentleman. A sweet guy. He's really focused and cares a lot about his work"
"Joe is tremendously warm and winning"
"There was just something very subtle about his reading. You could feel the tenderness inside of him. He just felt real."
"I'll say he is perhaps the top notch talent I ever witness in a reading. He was so directable, so talented, and ofc the look is gorgeous. Like a gift dropped from heaven"
"He has a disarming humility which appears both on and off screen. I spoke to Joe recently and found that the experience of starring in a Hollywood movie had not changed him at all. He will continue to be the person he is."
"Very cool impressive actor. After meeting him I had the opposite thought: Can she keep him?" (This came from a movie director who seems to be a Taylor fan, after meeting him once)
“He’s really nice. Really, really friendly, really good dude.”
When Joe first arrived at the school… “He brought a maturity and intelligence that was of immense benefit to the group. He also had a passion for the work and a conviction within his own artistry that was an inspiration to some of his younger colleagues.” By the time Joe was approaching his final year, he had become… “completely fearless.”
"A brilliant natural actor, especially gifted at quiet emotion"
"He's an absolute pleasure to work with. I became very close to him. I think everybody did"
“He can carry a movie on his shoulders—he has the height, the looks, obviously, the voice, the ability with accents; he is versatile,”
“Joe was gentle and he wasn’t overly pushy, because he knew I’m not good at mushy stuff,” she says. “Boys age differently, they’re f—ing idiots until they get older. But he’s a kind man with good manners.”
“When you’re speaking to him you feel like he’s only listening to you,”
“He’s got…the greatest head on his shoulders,”
‘That very first scene between the tree, he was worried the entire time like, “Are you OK? I don’t want to hurt you. Shall we do it like that? Is this easier for you?” The entire time trying to find out if I was OK, he was so sweet, so gentle, that I knew that I would be safe with him"
'He's very hardworking, very down to earth, very diligent and very gregarious. A very nice spirit to be around.
'Joe was always deeply committed to his craft. He was often very moved by the massiveness of his vocation. 'He saw acting as a necessity. He was serious about it, very committed. He was exceptional in that regard. He's a thoughtful man who cares beyond the frivolity of putting on a show. 'He sees performance as a powerful gift that he has, and that he hopes can change things for good.'We always hoped that this poetic soul would find a place for his vision.'
wow this was such a precious thing to read, he's really such a nice individual it makes my heart warm 🥺
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ramblinganthropologist · 1 month ago
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Fictober 2024 3 "I know you better"
Summary: So... how the fuck did Alistair Shepard get himself into this one? Oh, right... he has a thing about people calling him short. Maybe he should work on that later, after he manages to survive 183 pull ups.
---
Every part of his body was fucking throbbing, but his dead mother hadn’t birthed a quitter and his shitty father hadn’t neglected to raise one either.
Sweat poured down Alistair’s face as he pulled himself up and over the bar. It had stuck his t-shirt to his back, and had he been able to look down he would’ve been amazed to see that there wasn’t a puddle below him. But none of that mattered in the moment as he lowered himself just enough to prepare to pull up again.
165.
“Loco, you’re looking a little red in the face.” James wasn’t too far off, watching as he continued to pull himself up. “He’s not going to pass out, is he?”
Alistair would’ve said something about that, but talking was hard in the moment as he conserved all his energy towards his pull ups. He knew better, though – it came from being a medic. He might have been red faced, but part of that came from being a fair skinned redhead – no matter what he did, whatever training and hell he put himself through, he turned red in the face. It wasn’t great for a marine, but he had long accepted he was the furthest thing from a shining example of the Alliance’s best.
Well, technically he kind of was because of the whole N7 thing… but that didn’t matter in the moment. He had pull ups to handle.
“It’s the curse of being a ginger.” Bo was as flat toned as always as she turned to him. “Come on, Al, you’ve only got 18 left. Get your ass above the bar already, it’s been almost 15 minutes.”
No doubt his sister would’ve been able to pull this off easily – she was made of muscle and wrestled krogan for fun. James wasn’t far behind either – he no doubt pulled off 182 in a much better state. But he wasn’t either of them, and it showed in his screaming muscles as he pulled up once again.
Honestly, he was still kicking himself for how he had wound up in this position. It was supposed to be a normal shore leave. Then again… was anything normal with him?
All in all, Anderson’s apartment was probably the nicest place he had ever stayed in.
Alistair’s body still ached from his battle with his clone as he finished dressing. The bruises on his neck from where John – it was weird calling him that, but it was easier than just continually referring to the man as a clone – had tried to strangle him. With his luck, they would be replaced by new ones within a month. War was fun that way – he was constantly being surprised by the ways he could die on a daily basis.
Getting choked out by his clone was a new one, though. He definitely hadn’t seen that one coming when he had gone back on the Normandy after Vancouver.
“Think you can go a round with me, Monster?”
“Last I checked Al needs you in one piece, Vega.”
Two deep voices sounded from the floor below, and the sound of it made him want to groan. He picked up the pace as he descended the stairs, making his way to one of the rooms. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t alone there.
James was standing by the punching bag – from the fact it was still swinging, he had definitely used it a bit. Nearby was Bo, arms crossed over her chest and looking less than impressed with the most recent human member of the Normandy crew.
And somehow, he was going to wind up in the middle of it. Such was the fate of being a commanding officer…
“I would advise against sparring in here, guys. I really don’t want to talk to the cops right now.”
Normally, he would’ve told them to handle it in the Normandy cargo bay, but the ship was currently being serviced after John’s joyride over the Citadel. With any luck it would be back in service soon, patched up and ready for another round against the Reapers. Until then, they were on shore leave. And now that his clone was dead, he was finally going to relax a little.
Bo and James turned to face him, both blank faced. Well, not totally – his sister was definitely glad to see him in one piece, minus the bruises. The room’s other male occupant was still a little uncomfortable. It was only natural – someone with his face had tried to kill him and take control of the ship.
But damn if it didn’t hurt almost as much as the bruises.
“Damn, your neck’s all purple, Loco. That’s gotta hurt like hell.”
Alistair shrugged – it was a mistake as dull pain shot through his shoulder and towards his amp. “I bruise easily, it’s not as bad as it looks.”
That was a lie, of course. It hurt like hell, but he had survived worse in the last few months alone. He might not have been the ideal marine, but he could at least take a few bruises without complaining too much in front of his subordinates.
When they were gone, though? Garrus was getting an earful. At least his carapace was somewhat soothing thanks to the fact it was cool to the touch when not in the heat of battle. Who knew turians could double as ice packs if they were in a cool enough room?
“It’s better than what happened to the other guy.” Bo was clearly going with the story that John had died falling from the Normandy, rather than the truth of his… possible? Passing in the hospital days later. Honestly, Alistair wouldn’t have been surprised if the man wasn’t actually dead. After all, he was also technically Alistair Shepard – and he had it on authority that he was a pain in the ass to kill.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to drop from the Normandy. Didn’t look like a fun way to die.” James’ eyes suddenly focused on a part of the room, and a grin split his features. “Hey, Monster, check it out. The bag’s not the only thing we can use.”
He pointed towards the closet door, and it took Alistair a second to realize what he was talking about. Had he not barely survived basic training, he would’ve thought it was just a clothes hanger someone had positioned a little too close to the door. Much to the shock of the drill sergeant, however, he had survived basic training, so he knew better.
Apparently, Anderson liked pull ups.
Bo shot the bar a blank look. “I’m 6’9, Vega, it’s not exactly a challenge for me to get my head above that.”
“Hey, I’m not Loco sized and I get plenty out of it.” Briefly, James shot him a somewhat sympathetic glance. “No offense, Loco, but you’re not exactly a big guy. I don’t even think you could reach the bar without jumping.”
Offense… taken honestly, but he wasn’t going to do anything about it. He had long since accepted he was short and nothing was going to change it, not even second puberty once he finally got on T. Besides, it made him a smaller target and he had an easier time finding armor that fit him.
His sister didn’t look convinced, however. He knew why, of course. When it came to strength training, Bo really wasn’t one for that kind of thing. Her muscles came from lifting weights and beating the shit out of krogan.
Did that count as functional muscle? You think as a medic he would know that, but he wasn’t exactly one for extensive strength training himself.
“If you wanna pull yourself up until you hit your head on the door, be my guest.” Bo moved away. “Not my thing.”
Vega’s smirk widened ever so slightly. “What, you don’t think you can beat my record? I did 182.”
182? Alistair’s arms hurt at the mere sound of it.
“I said I’m good, Vega.” There was an edge to Bo’s voice, one that suggested she wasn’t in the mood. It was weird for her to turn down a challenge, but maybe she was still feeling out of it from the clone fight. Or maybe she was just being stubborn. James was a nice guy, but he had been their prison guard for the six months they had been locked away. Those feelings didn’t exactly go away overnight.
Which… meant if he kept it up he’d probably get punched. Again, Alistair really didn’t want to deal with the cops. It was one of those times he could taste the tension in the room.
And honestly… the knock about his height was eating at him. Maybe it was some of the annoyance carrying over from dealing with his clone – the fucker was a quarter inch taller even if nobody else saw it – but he couldn’t let that one go.
So, he stepped into the room and made his way towards the bar.
James’ smirk changed to a look of confusion. “Shepard, the hell-“
But then he was grabbing the bar and pulling himself up for the first pull up.
“I thought you would’ve known by now not to bring up his height.” Bo sounded amused as she turned to watch him as he readied himself for what was no doubt going to be a mistake. “Well, at least you proved you don’t have to jump up.”
No he didn’t… but 182 was a long way away. Had he any sense in his head, he would’ve dropped to the ground and taken his licks. After all, he wasn’t known for this sort of thing. Fixing people, fixing tech – that was his wheelhouse. Feats of strength, that was more Bo’s are than his.
But… they weren’t fighting. And honestly, he was still mad about the short thing. So he was going to do the only thing a little guy could do and prove the big guy was an idiot in the dumbest way possible.
---
“Come on, Al, that’s 180! You’re almost there!”
His lungs were burning, and his arms felt like rubber, but Alistair grunted as he pulled himself above the bar again. Down on the ground, Bo was cheering him on while James looked rather impressed. He was only steps away from his record – just 3 more.
Saint Sebastian, guide his stupid noodle body over that fucking bar 3 more times.
The sweat was dripping off his face as Alistair pulled up for 181. For a second, he thought he might drop completely. However, he managed to hold on at the last second, even as his palms sweat profusely. After all, to have gotten this far and not break the record was almost a shame.
 And… well, he could only imagine the look on James’ face when he pulled it off. It would almost be worth the muscle aches he’d be feeling later.
With all the strength left in him, he began his attempt at 182. It felt like a lifetime, but he pulled himself up inch by inch until he was over the bar. For a second, he contemplated just tying the record and allowing himself to drop to the ground in a sweaty heap.
However… sometimes, a marine has to do what a marine has to do.
183 came with a final burst of strength as Alistair’s muscles screamed in protest. But after another lifetime, he pulled himself to the top of the bar. Down below, James’ jaw practically hit the ground at the same time he did as Bo let out a hearty “fuck yeah” in response.
He… just lay there on the ground. It hurt to move.
“Holy hell, Loco, you did it!” James came into his field of view, reaching out to pull him back onto his feet – oww. Fucking hell, that hurt. “How are you feeling?”
Like death? Right then, Alistair would’ve traded Saint Sebastian agony for agony. Getting shot with arrows couldn’t have hurt more than being shot with bullets, though he wouldn’t have had his shields… or clothes for that matter. But despite that, a vague sense of accomplishment filled his tired body.
“Like I just got a very good reminder of why I’m a medic and not a shock trooper.” No doubt his face was as red as his hair. It was a miracle he wasn’t drowning in a lake of his own sweat, but he was definitely going to need a shower once he got some time to himself. Drowned rat wasn’t exactly a good look for meeting his boyfriend later, even if Garrus was used to seeing him red in the face during battle.
But… he had pulled it off. Literally.
“I knew you were holding out on me, Loco. There was muscle under that hoodie after all.” James chuckled as he slapped him on the back, practically launching him forward. “Alright, I learned my lesson with this one: don’t mess with either Shepard.”
Yeah… and all it took was watching someone make an idiot out of themselves 183 times in a row. How fortunate.
Alistair shook his head as he left the room behind, followed by the steady beep of his CGM. Unsurprisingly, all his physical activity had taken a toll on his body and was now making it cry out for sugar. He wasn’t feeling light headed or goofy yet, but his tongue and lips had definitely gone numb in the span of falling to the ground and where he stood.
So… probably in the 50’s.
He found himself in the kitchen, reaching for a can of soda in the fridge. After popping the top, he took a long sip, feeling the bubbles as they popped and fizzed. Even lifting the can to his mouth hurt, but it didn’t matter as he sat down at the table with his drink.
Too bad his drill sergeant was probably dead… he might’ve actually admitted that he wasn’t a complete failure of a marine.
“You better not die on me after that, Al.”
Bo’s voice followed her into the kitchen as she sought her bag of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. Soon it was in the microwave, spinning around in preparation for the carnage that was to follow. Her tone was light – she was amused.
“Remind me next time that I am not exactly a paragon of working out.” He took another sip – the whole numb lip thing made it difficult, but he managed it without dribbling any liquid down his still reddened cheeks. “How you guys enjoy that is beyond me.”
“Something, something, feel good chemicals.” She shrugged. “You’re the medic, not me.”
Yes, he was. So he should’ve known better. Still, there was no arguing with himself then as he felt the ache in his arms. It had been a dumb ego thing, he could see that clearly. Now he was paying for it.
“I’m surprised you didn’t try to stop me, though.” Alistair put his can down for the moment to give the sugar time to take effect. That usually took a few minutes, so it gave him time to watch Bo as she retrieved her bag of nuggets and joined him at the table.
For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she just popped a breaded brachiosaur into her mouth whole and spent her time chewing. In the end, she shrugged her shoulders and reached for another nugget from her bag.
“There was no way you’d stop if I told you to.” Briefly, she smirked. “I know you better. You play the nice guy, but I can smell your Napoleon complex from a mile away.”
If not for the fact he was still red faced, Alistair would’ve turned pink. “I don’t have a Napoleon complex!”
“You hate working out. Don’t even try to deny it, I’ve heard you say it plenty of times. Only the spite of a short guy would’ve gotten you to actually exercise for once.” Bo let out a bark of laughter as she tossed back another nugget. “We should get you his dumb hat or something as a reward for pulling it off.”
All Alistair could do was scowl and take another sip of his soda. While he very much did not have a Napoleon complex – which historically wasn’t even true, the guy was like 5’7” – it would be hard to argue with his sister when she was so damn smug. So he just sat there, still sweaty, red as a tomato, and let her take the point.
Bo smirked as she put her nuggets aside for a second. “And hey, you being short makes it more impressive. You gotta go further off the ground than me or Vega. Gravity’s a bitch.”
“I should get a bonus multiplier for that then.” Alistair’s voice came out somewhat dry as he stared down at the can and tried to do the math. His brain was starting to work a little better now that the sugar was kicking in, so he was feeling more like himself. A few more moments, and he would probably be able to feel his lips again.
Just what he needed when he was going to see Garrus in a bit.
His remark caused his sister to snort as she reached over to shove him playfully – which meant he only launched a few inches instead of a full foot. “Take it up with Vega, not me. It’s his dumb record.”
There was a pause, and then, “Also, your form was fucking shit now that I’m thinking about it. Who taught you to do pull ups like that?”
All Alistair could do was groan and find the table with his forehead. “ I wasn’t exactly paying attention in basic, ok? All that matters is that I got above the fucking bar.”
“Yeah, say that when you pull something later. Some medic you are, I thought you nerds knew about the body.”
He did… but that didn’t exactly make him the master of pull ups. But he wasn’t about to admit to anything, because that would only lead to more teasing from his sister. Instead, he just stayed there with his forehead pressed against the table, body aching and CGM no longer beeping for more sugar.
Next time, he was just going to be the bigger man and let the jokes roll off his back. If it meant avoiding physical exertion, he’d take any crack about his height with a smile on his face like a grown man should.
Oh, who was he kidding. No he wouldn’t. Maybe Bo was right about that whole Napoleon complex thing.
 Fuck. Maybe he should’ve just let John kill him after all.
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thenightfolknetwork · 1 year ago
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Hi. Sorry this is a bit long, but I could really use the help.
I guess I should start with who I am. I’m a member of the Creature Community, as you probably could have already surmised, but I don’t exactly look the part. You see, my genus looks rather similar to humans. That is, upon death. Our “ghosts” are almost indistinguishable from living sapios, at least for the first few years.
Now, I’ve recently died. Contrary to what many expect, it honestly hasn’t affected me too much. Sure, it takes some getting used to, and I have gone to therapy to work through the event itself, but it’s no more rattling than a particularly violent metamorphosis.
I’m lucky enough to still have some friends from before my death. One such friend, let’s call her “Amy”, has been very kind to me. She’s helped me work through this transformation, and even set up a small altar for me in her house.
The other day, Amy invited me over to her parent’s house for dinner. I was quite excited, after all, Amy had been one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, so it would only make sense her parents would be just as kind, right?
Goodness, was I wrong. Ever since my death, I can’t exactly consume food in the usual way. I was under the impression that this was conveyed to Amy’s parents, but I was mistaken. Upon sitting down at the table, I was served the same as everyone else. I assumed there’d been some kind of misunderstanding, and attempted to explain that I couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t on an altar or otherwise spiritually offered to me. Her mother seemed a bit irked, and said something along the lines of “there’s no need to be so picky.”
I tried to explain to them that I wasn’t being picky, but that I physically couldn’t eat it. It was around then I realized that Amy had never told them I wasn’t sapio, least of all that I was dead. Still, I did my best to try to explain it too them without it being seen as offensive. The food they had made did look and smell delicious, but that didn’t make it any more possible for me to eat.
That was when her father chipped in. He said, and I quote, “Well, you don’t look dead.”
I know that technically, to him, he’s right. To most humans who saw me, I did not look dead. But for some reason, what he said really upset me. I mean, what did he want me to look like, Slimer from Ghostbusters? A Haunted Mansion animatronic?!
I left pretty quickly after that, though I’ll admit I said some pretty harsh things before I went. I just don’t know what to do. I’ve already tried to apologize to Amy, but she won’t answer any of my texts or calls. I know that I was wrong for yelling at them, but I can’t help but feel that maybe they’re not all the way in the right either. How can I fix this without letting them hold onto those biases? Or should I just let it go?
I think you're being really rather hard on yourself here, reader. I don't see that this mess is yours to fix at all. First, you were put in a very awkward situation because of your friend's lack of forethought. Then you were apparently left to fend for yourself in that awkwardness, with no support from the friend in question.
You were subjected to casual sapiocentrism in a place where you might have expected to be treated more kindly. You say that, “for some reason”, you were hurt by Amy's father's comments – as if they weren't immediately, obviously insulting comments and dismissive of the variety of forms post-life vitality might take.
Finally, after being subjected to a mounting pile of microaggressions, you removed yourself from the situation. Perhaps this removal was a little less graceful than you might prefer, looking at it in retrospect. But given the givens, I think you did very well to be as polite as you were, for as long as you were.
You have even gone so far as to try to apologise for the unpleasantness of the situation – despite said unpleasantness being almost entirely the fault of other people's rudeness, ignorance, and inconsideration. But those attempts have fallen on ears that as not so much deaf as willingly plugged.
I don't think you need to worry about making amends with Amy's parents. You were their guest and they treated you poorly, with no indication that they have any interest in learning from the experience. Even if they did want to do better, you aren't their guinea pig. You have no responsibility to teach them the error of their ways, and the relationship isn't one you need to maintain.
Your friendship with Amy, however, does need some work. Amy has clearly demonstrated that she loves and cares about you. Her treatment of you following your revitalisation shows this. But sadly, love and care are not always enough to prevent harm.
I recommend offering to meet up in person to talk about the evening in question. You can certainly tell her that you want to make amends, but it's important you also make it clear that this is not a one-sided apology. Tell her you want to talk about some of the ways she could have supported you better as a person of the night in that situation, with a view to strengthening your friendship.
If she agrees to meet, remember to stay calm and be clear about the particular behaviours you want to address. This isn't about making Amy feel punished or blamed. It's about helping her to love you better. You have certain needs as a recently revived individual, and if she is going to invite you to an event, she has to make sure those needs will be met.
She also needs to understand that, while she may not see your post-death vitality as anything to write home about, that doesn't mean other people feel the same. It is unkind of her to put you into a situation where you will be expected to defend your identity or bite your tongue in the face of anti-liminal sentiments.
I sincerely hope Amy proves herself willing and able to listen to you and learn from this. Her previous behaviour suggests its certainly possible. But if she can't, please understand – this is not on you.
Sadly, some people are only interested in being kind so long as they can also be comfortable. You are better off keeping them at arm's length and keeping your more intimate feelings for those who can be trusted with them.
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novorehere · 8 months ago
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I’m not in the vore community (is that an accurate thing to call it?!) so I hope you don’t mind receiving this from a total rando lmao. But I randomly came across your Stardew headcanons post thanks to a specific-but-unrelated search, and I just wanted to say it was SO cute 🥺 At first I was just curious but by the end I was like “mhm mhm yep you’re so correct” and smiling over how sweet it was. You totally don’t have to answer this ask, I just thought it would be rude not to share my thanks for your lovely writing! And for helping me appreciate the appeal a little more :) Light and love
This ask is from JANUARY and I’m so sorry I’m just getting around to answering it now (Side note- happy 1.6 day! Hopefully it comes out on switch soon, I’m dying to play it.)
Anyway, this ask might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me on this blog 😭 To have someone who’s not into vore appreciate and enjoy my writing anyway is the highest honor I can possibly think of. I’m smiling so much right now, you don’t even know.
The fact that tumblr’s search function makes it so that people can stumble upon my writing despite it not being in the tags is a little embarrassing, but I’m so pleased that you liked it! I like to treat it as more of a silly AU where I can play around with the characters and think about how they would react in a weird, yet oddly charming situation :)
The “vore community” online isn’t really a single community, since there are so many different preferences ranging from sexual to platonic, and violent to harmless. On tumblr, there are dedicated “fandoms” for both non-sexual vore and G/t (Content featuring giant characters and tiny characters, both from fandoms and people’s OCs.)
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always had an interest in media where people shrink down or interact with people way bigger than them. Same thing with characters being eaten/going inside the body. I’ve always had a fascination with the human body, how it works, and what it might look like inside. And little did I know, there were many people like me online who shared the exact same experiences and interests! And I think that’s really cool :)
Anyway, I’m glad I could make your first experience stumbling across this stuff be less than traumatic xD Your kind words seriously mean a lot, and I’m glad you could enjoy my writing even if the subject matter was a little on the weird side. I hope you’ve been having a good 2024, and enjoy the new update!
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hollowistheworld · 1 year ago
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Gifts
Day 6 of IBWeek2023, hosted by @the-bureaucracts-are-everything
Also on AO3
It had started with the fly, with Gabriel’s stunned expression as he said “No one’s ever given me anything before.” It had started with a unprecedented pang of sympathy, followed by a consuming desire to shower Gabriel with presents. Beelzebub had recognized the feeling for the death knell it had been, the moment it was too late for them to end what they’d begun with him. 
They’ve been a little obsessed with gifts ever since. They hadn’t given many before all the truth had come out and they’d ran off, on account of Gabriel only having so many pockets to keep things in, and Beelzebub not having a lot of shopping options in Hell. 
Now, they have a house they’d half made, half taken over, and it’s filling up with stuff. 
Gabriel took over the closet first, which Beelzebub was happy to let him do. Closets, actually, plural - one for outdoor wear, one for casual wear, one for extremely casual wear, one for exercise clothes, and one for Beelzebub, still mostly filled by Gabriel. They’d had a brief disagreement about chairs, Gabriel preferring ones that fit snugly, with high arms and low backs, while Beelzebub favored tall backs and enough space to sit any direction they wanted. They’d spent whole days in human furniture shops working that one out. Humans had hit on something with sectional, build-your-own-style couches, and it turned out they were both willing to compromise on style if they were in one another’s laps. 
And then Beelzebub had started going in on the gifts. Mirrors engraved with Gabriel’s name around the frame, some taking up the length of the wall, others small enough for him to carry in his pocket and take them out to admire himself whenever the mood struck him (he had not, in fact, been familiar with mirrors, and had been delighted by the first one Beelzebub had presented him with). A steadily growing mug collection for their specially ordered hot chocolate was taking over the kitchen, most of them consisting of angel, demon, or fly puns, which never failed to make Gabriel laugh, no matter how many times he read them. 
Gabriel had once told Beelzebub their laugh was the most beautiful sound in the universe, and Beelzebub had to return the sentiment. Anything that might make Gabriel laugh was something they needed to have. 
Today’s gift was a pretty silver watch with ticking golden hands, with Gabriel’s name engraved across the back and intricate links keeping it around Gabriel’s wrist. 
Gabriel hums happily as Beelzebub fastens it in place, then leans over to press his forehead against their temple. “You bring me the nicest things.” 
“They make you smile.” 
“You make me smile.” 
That brings a smile to Beelzebub’s own face, and they burrow closer into his side. Some days they just can’t seem to be close enough, like they could tear themself open and put Gabriel into their chest, merge the two of them into one being. Those days usually involve the two of them spending all day on their couch or their bed, playing with each other’s hair, laughing just from the sight of each other just because… Just because they’re so happy. 
Neither demons nor angels have ever been known for being happy. Angels are meant to be peaceful, which isn’t even remotely the same thing, and demons are meant to be dangerous. Happiness is for humans, and even then there’s always been a suggestion that happiness is something they have to earn, not something they’re permitted to just have. 
Beelzebub’s faith in the Great Plan has fully disintegrated, because they absolutely haven’t earned happiness, but they have it, and they’re keeping it. Neither Satan nor God would be capable of prying it away now. Beelzebub would wage war on them both at once to keep it.
Gabriel’s arms are tight around their waist. “I should get you things more often.” 
Beelzebub runs their hands through Gabriel’s hair. He’s always whining that they’re messing it up, but Beelzebub had made a point of not doing it one day and he’d pouted horribly. “I have everything I could ever want right here.” 
“Well, so do I. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve more.” He tangles his fingers in their hair, then traces down the line of their nose. “Unfortunately for me, your favorite thing is flies, and I don’t know where to find you more of those.” 
“I think I have plenty anyway,” Beelzebub says with a laugh. “Don’t worry about me, my sweet.”
Gabriel huffs. “When do you even find the time to get these?”
“While you’re running.” That is, without a doubt, the most bewildering thing about Gabriel - the way he goes out every day and just runs. Beelzebub loves him a lot, loves him so much they sometimes think they’ll go mad with it, but they don’t love him quite enough to join him for that. But that means it’s one of the few times they can stand to be apart, so Beelzebub has taken to wandering the nearby shops, usually coming back with prizes. 
Gabriel’s gazing lovingly at them and they nuzzle further into his hand, smiling. “They always said in Heaven that liking material objects is a demonic thing. Were they wrong, or are you an exception?” 
Beelzebub shrugs. “I had more stuff in Hell,” they admit. “But I didn’t care about any of it. It was mostly chairs and stacks of paperwork. I like having more space now.” They run their fingers over the links of the watchband. “And I like giving you things more than I like having my own. You angels, never allowing yourselves any indulgences.” 
“Indulgences are demonic,” Gabriel reminds them with a smile.
It still sets their head spinning sometimes, how little Gabriel cares about things like that. How quickly he’d thrown away all of Heaven’s rules and restrictions. Beelzebub had done the same - they’d once thought their loyalty to Satan overruled any and all desires that could ever be created. Now, they don’t even think about him anymore, and if Gabriel thinks of God it’s never for long. Their former bosses are nothing to them now. 
Beelzebub sighs contentedly. “Does that mean being content with what you have is angelic?”
Gabriel shrugs one shoulder and admires his new watch again, pulling Beelzebub closer still with his other arm. “You know what? I don’t think I care.” 
Beelzebub lays their head against his collarbone. “No. Neither do I.” 
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funnyfaceflea · 4 months ago
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elementary school teachers can honestly be either 2 types:
some of the nicest people you ever meet
some of the worst assholes you ever meet
in elementary i was fortunate enough to have mostly very angelic teachers or teachers i was neutral towards but there were some that i absolutely dreaded because they would shame me for not grasping concepts quicker than the other kids, particularly in math.
like this one teacher i had when i was 6 years old, she would shame me for “not listening” even when i WAS paying attention to the lesson but i wasn’t able to grasp the concept well like the other kids, which made me feel so bad about myself.
to my current knowledge of right now i have not been diagnosed with autism or adhd but thinking very hard about myself in the past few months i might have a certain amount of undiagnosed adhd in me, but it has always been hard for me to grasp certain concepts such as math, something i’ve struggled with and continue to struggle with in school.
this teacher (will not name her for privacy reasons but we’ll call her L) sometimes made me nervous to go to class in the morning just because of how sensitive I am to even the smallest of negative comments towards me about things i’ve done that were accidents (e.g like idk dropping supplies or forgetting something) and shamed for needing additional clarification after something is said to me. like when a teacher immediately gave up on me after she told me to go bring something to somewhere in the building and i needed to hear the destination one more time. especially when it came to line leading, which i was TERRIBLE at because even when they think the instructions they give are “simple” to them, to me they aren’t and i’m sorry i’m too “stupid” or am “not listening” to adhere by them. thankfully line leading where i am now barely exists and we all walk in crowds but whenever i am tasked being in the front line i get a terrible, terrible feeling of anxiety that reminds me of when i was in elementary.
L wasn’t like this all those two semesters, but mainly from what I can remember it was mainly in the beginning. i hated when my name was called up to the front and i would attempt and prepare myself to be shamed in front of the entire class for taking too long to figure out a problem on a topic that i wasn’t able to grasp quickly enough unlike other students.
also hated computer class. teacher was so mean and she was very loud and had no shame in telling other teachers about me and my little “problems”.
both teachers had made me cry in class (which i often feel embarrassed about) and I’ve heard comments from them like “awww c’mon! we don’t cry in 1st grade!”
BITCH.
THERE ARE FUCKING 6 YEAR OLDS IN YOUR CLASS.
HOW THE FUCK DO YOU EXPECT LITTLE KIDS TO NOT CRY IN YOUR CLASS WHEN YOU SHAME THEM FOR TINY THINGS?
teachers like that pissed me off and made me feel terrible about myself when i was younger and i still hate them. both of them are retired now but im sure as hell glad they’re not doing this to their students anymore. they deserve love and acceptance into their classroom and as much care as possible when they happen to be slower than other students in terms of understanding concepts correctly.
please don’t feel bad about yourself if someone shames you for stuff like this. everyone learns at their own pace and it’s absolutely okay! you’re just making the world a more diverse and awesome place with being you, and those who accept you for who you are add to the kindness that we are in dire need of these days. you are beautiful and you are a smart human being and i love you and everyone else loves you 🙏❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️
and on a quick additional note:
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🖕
fuck this poster to hell
(also sorry for making pretty dramatic posts in terms of drama stuff lately, i’ll go back to making cranium command and buzzy-related posts and masa posts again i promise)
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foster-the-moths · 2 years ago
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more thoughts about adam murray in vol 4
disclaimer: i think adam is a huge asshole and he shouldn't treat the people around him Like That but i think understanding the reason of why he does that is just as important as understanding why his actions aren't justified
first of all i do believe it is in his nature to hurt the people around him but i also think he does not mean to. also i don't think his actions are justified but i AM questioning if they were really even his to begin with. sarah asks him "what's gotten into you" so this is obviously abnormal behavior for him, and (before he denies it) sarah seems to be under the impression that jonah is his best friend, not just some guy he hangs out with. even evelin says "he's always been the nicest guy" during her interview. I've already talked about the part in the second memorial video when he says he "never said that" and the whole "get out of my head" thing and i think sarah noticing him acting strange kind of cements that. it's hard to tell what he actually says and what might be someone else or what might be influenced by someone else so. idk but until it's confirmed one way or another i'm skeptical he actually meant any of what he said to sarah (maybe i'm in denial but. whatever).
Also i think he really shouldn't have brought sarah to cesar's house, and definitely shouldn't have pushed her like that, but i don't think he really understood how distressed she was. whenever he's around an alternate he seems to get a little obsessive over it and i think it blinds him to how the people around him feel. i don't think he meant to hurt sarah, and i don't think he ever had any malicious intent when he took her to that house, but i also think sarah has a right to be mad at him. it was fucked up.
idk. just kind of tired of people saying he has malicious intent behind everything he does when i don't think that's the case. and its just so much more interesting to look at him through a different lens. and maybe this has no real basis in canon but i think he wants to be able to feel the things he seems to be unable to. i think a part of him is disgusted by his own lack of emotions. i think he wants to understand. he sounds desperate when he says "it's the computer, not me, i swear." i think his entire reality is collapsing around him and he doesn't know how to pick up the pieces. i think he pushes other people away because they are horrified by him. viewing adam through a lens of tragedy is just so much more interesting then chalking it up to him being evil. if human beings would do the things he did in his situation then imagine being an alternate on top of that. and there's just still so much we don't know about him. most of what we've seen is things going to shit and high-strung emotions like we don't know what he does on a day-to-day basis. at the end of the day i think he is nuanced and until we get more information he's a bit of an enigma still (and i'm not as good as articulating my thoughts into words as i would like to be). but this is literally just the most opinionated and self-projecting analysis of this character as well so do with that information with you will lmao.
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risingsouls · 2 years ago
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continued from ★ || @monstersugars (iirc you moved Frissiveah over here SO)
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♥ "Wow really you're not human? You look human but you.. are certainly a lot bigger than a lot of humans I've seen..." The naga moved closer to him, no this wasn't a human at all. Humans didn't look like this, sure he had two legs, arms, a human like face but everything else was different.
"You are a completely exceptional specimen! My name is Frissivaeh but you can call me Frissi for short, if you want!"
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" Heh, that might be the nicest thing anyone has said about me in a while. "
He chuckled, smug smirk cemented on his features. " Frissi, huh? " he repeated, testing the name out for himself. Neither were names he had ever heard before. Fitting for a being he had never even heard of before that day. " You can call me Bardock. Though I wouldn't complain over being called exceptional, either. "
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alwida10 · 2 years ago
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Hi. I'm not sure what's going on right now, I just saw you had a mean anon lately and it seems you're going through hard times.
I will admit I've definitively made some assumptions about you and not always been the nicest when discussing some posts of yours with friends. But just because I found some things you said offensive doesn't mean I think you are a bad person. Words we say often take a life of their own in other poeple's head. Also anger and hurt makes us all agressive and without a filter. On both sides.
There is a lot of gossip in the Loki fandom, but behind the vitriol, some poeple care about you and are genuinely worried when things seem hard. Whether it's about you or other "antis" recieving hate anons (sadly the whole point of anons is that we'll never know for sure who sent them). We're also not stupid, a lot of poeple who are angry have been through hell in their life and healing will always be far more important than fandom wank.
I just wanted to say you deserve to feel safe and to have a space where you can express yourself, even if it won't make everyone happy. Poeple are free to block you, or ignore your posts if they end up in their recommended section. Nothing has ever been achieve with hate and petty games.
Sending you my best wishes.
A cowardly anon ^^
Thank you! This message made me cry, in a good way. 💚 thank you for your kindness!
And yes, you are right in many ways. We never know who the anons are, and I admit that in my mind I tend to conflate them, assuming most are from one single person, who just never knows when to stop.
When I first came to tumblr, I found the anon-function weird. I thought “we are on the internet. We are already anonymous!”, but I guess that’s not entirely true. While this sphere is (more or less) separated from our offline life, nobody is free from expectations of their mutuals, followers, and even critics. And since we all get trained to act according to the expectations people have, some things would never get said without the anon function. But being anonymous brings forth how we really are in that moment. And hurt, stress or rage has made me say bad things in the past, too. That said, at most times I DO mourn the split in the fandom, and I am aware that echo chambers make opinions grow more extreme. So, should you come across something I have written which is offensive, please let me know, so I can check if I’m a victim of my own rage once more, worded things badly, or applied faulty reasoning. You can always point me this post if you fear a harsh answer, so I will remember I, too, was gifted with kindness.
I am sure we all just wished the fandom wasn’t so torn apart and everyone could thrive in the community. I admit, the only other fandom I participated in was supernatural, so my expertise isn’t the best, but I would bet any day that the Loki fandom is full of people who take strength from his story for their own healing and growth. So, in a way it’s even more heartbreaking that there is so much fighting about him. Because interpretations of his motives and morality are never just that. They can always be perceived as an invalidation of another person’s suffering or healing or hopes. And while you might be able to cope with an attack of an fictional story, an attack of one’s trauma or hope is much more personal.
So, yeah. It’s always better to take a step back, remember this isn’t about oneself alone, and that beyond the screen other people are humans, too, and deserve the benefit of a doubt. 💚
Also, i kinda think it’s a shame there is so little communication between the “two sides”. The last debate opened a new perspective for me, and helped me to put some things back into context. Sometimes I wish for a friend on “the other side” to discuss things in a appreciative way, where no one tries to convince the other or feels the need to defend their view. Just a comparison of perspectives, to open up new points nobody considered yet. There could be a lot of cool meta buried there. But alas, I guess the topic is too close to the heart for most of us, and I don’t exclude myself there.
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kinocomix · 10 months ago
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metal band story devlog 12: Making art in 2024, a survival guide but also DOGGO
first things first, as I oh so subtly implied in the title of this devlog, have a dog:
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I’m sure someone is out there yelling at their screen with anatomy complaints, but I like it.
This is a braque d'auvergne dog and it kinda looks like, well, every spotted dog ever. 
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image from 101dogbreeds https://www.101dogbreeds.com/coat/spotted-dogs
The drawing above is the initial draft of what I kind of want the dog to look like for the most part. I’m taking the liberty of changing some things here and there, since I want the dog to be a mutt.
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Here you can see I changed the torso shape, and made it so that I can redraw the design faithfully using simple proportions. I also took extra care to decide what the eyes looked like, so I tried several things there:
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I ended up settling for, once again, the initial once I came up with (I swear I don’t do this all the time). I felt like I wanted the dog to feel like it could talk, but subvert that by having it be just a normal dog. During my research I also came across something cool that I will not be including in the design. Which is the fact that if a dog sustains an intense scar, the hair grows back WHITE.
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also, this could entirely be me and my bias but it’s… hard to find pictures of deformed dogs that are ugly? like dogs are always so excited to exist that even if their entire lower jaw is missing they’ll look like a vibe and be having a good time if you’re nice to them.
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on a final note regarding dogs, have this. It’s out of context and I won’t explain it cause I’d like to have everyone try to figure it out.
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With that being done, you might notice I don’t have a final design yet, because the four sketches I drew were the only things I was able to accomplish this week. This is realistic progress. So let's talk about art in the internet age. you thought this was going to be a straightforward devlog about a dog? well think again. 
This week I had a lot of thinking to do outside of the context of comics and art. I’m 27, and although the internet has led us to believe that it’s straightforward to be a microcelebrity for a living it’s actually very difficult, and the mental toll it can take on you is equally as worth noting. it’s weird and volatile and you’re fighting an ever changing landscape of other people trying to get heard. I currently work at a board game store, one of the nicest jobs I could have hoped for. My boss is a fun guy, my coworkers are awesome and the people who come to the store are nice and from all walks of life… but it’s not sustainable for me. It's the night shift which goes against my natural circadian rhythm and the pay is mostly being spent on transport at the moment. One time I offhandedly said “art is made by people with day jobs” and while I meant it at the time the true meaning and depth of that statement is still unfolding to me. While writing this devlog, I had a job interview to attend. If we’re being realistic, while it’s possible for me to make a living off of making my comics for a dedicated niche audience that supports me on patreon, the chances of that actually happening are quite low given the fact that the rate at which I output things doesn’t work with the modern internet’s unquenchable need for more stuff.
this isn’t a new thing or will it ever go away. Art is an extension of us as human beings, it’s our desire to project meaning onto an uncaring world that we are part of. it’s ironic if you think about it for a second, a more pretentious person would call it something like “the duality of man” or some shit but I wouldn’t like that to be me. god, it would be so hilarious to look back at this devlog years from now and realize I unironically said “the duality of man”. Anyways the value of art, as we know, is not dedicated by how much attention it gets otherwise hominids all those years ago wouldn’t have put color to stone
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Cave drawing in the upper Paleolithic cave of Chauvet-Pont d'Arc, Ardeche, France
you see there’s no real way of saying “I want less digital things in my life” without the internet seeing you as a 4567 year old grandma yelling at a cloud but that’s it really. The way I see it, artists on the internet can end up somewhere on this graph:
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I think I fall where the red dot does. On top is my friend fouad, working on his graphic novel having left the internet entirely. closer to the left are most youtubers, to the right are people like my dad’s uncle, who would paint for himself and family members exclusively. 
Today was the first day where I looked at someone whose art was exclusive to one very specific place and said “I get it”. beyond a certain point the feeling of making something cool can get overshadowed by all the people running towards it. Meaningful connection gets replaced by a wall of words from many people where your ability to engage with it gets harder and harder the bigger the wall gets. Which is why I think I’m going to put the comic here on tumblr and tapas, and not bother with other places really.
Eventually, I’d like to be an art teacher. Until then we’ll make it work with what we have, and even if I don’t get my dream job I think I’ll still be happy.
Devlog update on Tuesdays.
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yeschefthankyouchef · 1 year ago
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wow would you look at that i’m behind again! life simply does not slow down sometimes and i have been absolutely itching to read these updates, ya girl is sick as a dog rn and finally ready to dig in🤠
there was so much i loved about this chapter - one of the most notable being the relationships you’ve built up between baby and the others. there is something so human about this fic that keeps me coming back, and i think it boils down to your attention to world and relationship building outside of the “main” storyline.
“She would find him just standing in the restaurant, sometimes eyes staring into nothing as he worried the pendant between his fingers, oftentimes raising it to his lips before letting it go completely and wandering to do whatever task needed to be done.”
this chapter is destroying me already in the absolute best possible way. the image of him raising the pendent TO HIS LIPS has me weak in the mf knees sjsjsjssjsjsj
“Using his sister's obvious discomfort to deflect from the conversation she was insistent on having wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he’d rather put his sister’s well-being before being forced to think about how long it had been since he last spoke to you; he last saw you.”
he is such an avoidant king
“It’s been trademarked for years, whoever filed has all legal rights to the name.”
OH MY GOD i am so giddy rn i can’t wait to read his reaction when he finds out baby owns the legal rights
“as the years passed by he knew it was a desire he himself had”
ohhhhh boy he is going to be devastated when he finds out
“All I’m sayin’ is Mikey didn’t trademark it whoever did might…I dunno hypothetically deserve an apology in return for said documents.”
if richie has 1000 fans i am one of them, if richie has 1 fan it’s me, if richie has no fans i am DEAD😤 i love and adore the way you write richie - the sass, the love, the big brother vibes - i just eat it all right up
“Carmy was at his wits end with the older man “Oh so you’re the fucking Riddler now.”
i am laughing so hard rn, he’s just lil dumb boy
“Maybe he did know what love was supposed to feel like, because for all the time he had been in love with you, he had never once felt so completely and utterly broken as he had been since not fighting for your love a year ago like he should have.”
this line is absolutely beautiful, i had to put my phone down for a minute and just hold my head in my hands to process before moving on
“Cat’s out of the bag! Our pregnancy is no longer top secret!”
HE FUCJING WOULD BE REFER TO IT AS “OUR PREGNANCY” THIS IS SO ON BRAND AHSJDJSJS
“Nat’s my partner you know? And I’m so grateful for her providing me the opportunity to be a father. Allowing me to build with her, for us to come together and bring a child into this world, it’s a beautiful thing I love her ya know.”
the only man that is allowed to refer to it as “our pregnancy” because he is doing it in the most wholesome way. i am such a pete defender and i love you for adding an entire pete scene, he simply did not get enough screen time imo
“Wow, it really will be a Baby shower!”
this is so cute omg, he’s already making dad jokes🥹
“Nat she uh…she confided in me about how she always wanted to be the one to throw you a shower if you ever decided to have children. And if-when we had our own she’d want you to be in charge of hers…if you wanted to not like she would force you.”
it could be that i am loopy on cold medicine but i have literal tears in my eyes over this, what a beautiful show of friendship and womanhood. nat deserves this and i’m so proud of baby for putting aside her pain to do it for her.
“I just, whatever is going on between you and Carmen, it’s affecting Nat. And she won’t tell you because you deserve to feel how you feel, but with the baby and the restaurant…she doesn’t need to play "Fix it Felix” with you and Carmen right now.”
he is so male wife and the absolute biggest defender of nat, i think everyone deserves a pete in their corner
**OMG I JUST HAD A THOUGHT - have you seen the barbie movie? bc pete is so allen coded
“A part of you ached at how happy Pete was, if things were different, maybe in another life you would’ve been able to see that excitement on another man’s face.”
i am throwing up
“Damn ma, that shits kinda sad.”
he is so me
“I know you have issues with girls actually having your number…Sorry, that was actually kind of rude.”
it may be rude, but it is NOT uncalled for
“You were so blissfully unaware that since he could remember, you had been the one and only option in his mind.”
i am kicking my feet and giggling rn - this! is! it!! this is what we’ve been waiting for!!! oh god everything has been building to this and i can’t believe we’re almost to some calmer waters (if carmy can manage to not fuck it up again)
“i apologize that this is a bit of a filler chapter but it felt kinda necessary idk”
i will not sit here and allow you to call the absolutely necessary bridge chapter “filler” that i loved with my whole heart and soul, i simply will not allow the slander❌
chapter seven | they know i believed in us last week
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masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!pete x fem!reader | male!oc x fem!reader |
summary: carmy struggles to deal with your absence in his life, while you finally learn to live without him.
warning(s): talk about miscarriage (no explicit details) | word miscarriage used once | implied suicidal thoughts | substance abuse | NA | AA | Al-Anon | grief | mention of pregnancy |angst | drama | semi-fluff | language | sad boi carm | baby being mature | woe is me carmy | please let me know if i missed anything |
wc: 7.3k
song rec: i'll still have me - cyn, aquilo
semi-edited/proof-read
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“Carm hey, are you listening?” Natalie’s eyes flitted across Carmy’s face, his blank eyes staring directly past her. She took this moment as a chance to take in her younger brother’s ragged appearance, at first glance he looked like he normally did; exhausted. But taking the time to really study him, she knew Carmy was doing worse than he’d ever admit.
His usual textured and fluffy hair was limp against his head, the greasy quality of it proving he needed a wash. The discoloration under his eyes was the worst Nat had seen it, the deep blue-purple bruising a sign that he was getting even less sleep than he usually did. The skin of his lips was dehydrated and bitten to pieces, a tick he had as a child that gradually calmed down as he grew older. And the visible stubble on his chin was enough to know that the absence of your presence in his life was hitting him harder than anyone expected.
Her eyes caught on the chain that was haphazardly peeking out of his shirt, squinting at the newly added pendant hanging from it. Natalie didn’t have to be a genius to know whose initial hung around Carmen’s neck, the chain which was usually safely tucked into his shirt was now blatantly on show for everyone to see. Natalie had noticed it more recently since your and Carmy’s argument, though this was her first time seeing it this close. She would find him just standing in the restaurant, sometimes eyes staring into nothing as he worried the pendant between his fingers, oftentimes raising it to his lips before letting it go completely and wandering to do whatever task needed to be done.
Natalie’s concern was palpable but the discomfort in her abdomen was worse. “Have you tried talking to her?” The shaky breath she let out filtered between the two of them.
Carmen’s eyes finally snapped to hers taking in the uncomfortable expression on her face, “Sug?” He waited for Nat to focus on him. “You good?” The question hung in the air as Natalie tried to even out her breathing.
Using his sister's obvious discomfort to deflect from the conversation she was insistent on having wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he’d rather put his sister’s well-being before being forced to think about how long it had been since he last spoke to you; he last saw you.
Carmy watched as Sug raised a closed hand to her mouth suppressing the urge to gag. “Yeah good, I’m good.” The forced smile on her lips did nothing to fool Carmy, but he wouldn’t force the issue.
“Can you uh, explain to me again how we’re doing, I spaced.” His fingers raised to run through his hair a small grimace painting his face at the grime he could feel left behind on his fingertips.
“Seven weeks out, Carm, and still so much to be done,” An exhausted sigh breathed through Natalie’s lips. The stress opening this restaurant caused felt extremely unnecessary considering her current status.
“No yeah I heard that,” Carmy nodded his head rapidly, Sug’s words slowly coming back to him. He squinted his eyes, hand scratching the grown-out stubble on his chin.  “You uh said something about the DBA getting rejected?”
“About that.” Natalie’s voice trailed off one hand pressing into her abdomen to ease the ache, “The name’s taken.”
Nat watched as Carmy processed the words, her discomfort felt like it was increasing as the seconds passed by.
“Who the fuck could’ve taken the name?” The idea perplexed Carmy. There was no chance another business could have the same name, well there was, it was just slim as hell.
Nat shrugged just as confused as Carmy “It’s been trademarked for years, whoever filed has all legal rights to the name.”
“Fuck me!” The pitch of Carmy’s voice rose along with his irritation.
Natalie’s own mumbled expletive was drowned out by Carmy’s outburst, the nauseating morning sickness she was experiencing came in an extra hard bout today.
“Yo, Sug…Sug. You sure you’re okay?” Carmy’s concern now outweighed his confusion, Nat’s weird behavior this whole morning was beginning to worry him.
“I can do this Carmy right, tell me I can do this.” Natalie’s breathing began to increase as a slight panic flooded through her. Carmy watched her with wide eyes, no idea what she could even be talking about.
“Tell me I can do it, Carm!” The wave of nausea subsided with her yell, Carmy’s hands raised in the air to divert blame.
“Fuck okay! You can do it Sug.”
“I am…completely terrified. And I’m only telling you because..I don’t know. Just-just in case.” Natalie nodded to herself as a way to provide her nerves with courage.
Carmy just stared at Natalie still not following where she was leading this conversation to.
“I really want this to be loving and good and happy,” A smile rose to Nat’s face “I just..I don’t want anyone to know…well besides Baby and now you.”
Carmy’s eyes focused on Sug’s abdomen, the pieces of the puzzle slowly fitting together in his head. The name she spoke felt like it was echoing through his ears.
“Sure” He wasn’t sure how to react to the news, he had always assumed Natalie would be the first of the siblings to start a family. And as the years passed by he knew it was a desire he himself had.
“I really don’t want Richie to know. Because somehow, it feels more in my control when and who knows…” The sound of the wall falling caused Nat to raise her voice as she finished her sentence. “That I’m pregnant.” Her final words were spoken just loud enough to alert the crew to her news.
“I fuckin’ knew it.” The sound of Richie’s shout grated on Nat’s nerves, but the quiet congratulations helped to ease her ire a bit.
Carmy was happy for Sugar, but it felt like it was setback after setback for the restaurant and all the personal issues he was dealing with weren't helping his stress. He felt his shoulders sag a bit mind racing as to how the name could already be trademarked, or who would’ve trademarked it.
His eyes found Richie’s as the man cajoled about how he knew Natalie was pregnant this whole time. Had Richie told someone the name and they took it for themselves? Did Mikey somehow trademark it while on a bender? The thought made Carmy’s head hurt what the fuck even was the point of opening this restaurant if they couldn’t use the name. The name was the epitome of the restaurant.
If you were here Carmy knew you would've given him an analogy for how he was feeling, you would’ve told him he was like Atlas holding up the sky or whatever he did. He shook his head trying to rid himself of thoughts of you, it wasn’t helping him in the least.
As much as he’d rather not converse with Richie, he needed to get to the bottom of this trademark business.
“Yo, Cousin!” The words felt wrong escaping Carmy’s lips the two men avoided each other in the same way you avoided Carmen.
The agitation on Richie’s face was instant, Carmy knew he fucked up with you, but the cold shoulder he was getting from Richie felt unnecessary.
Nat watched as the two men locked eyes, not too keen on playing referee for these two again. She looked in Carmy’s direction as Richie began making his way over, trying to gauge what was going through her little brother's mind.
“Carmen,” Richie nodded in acknowledgment to Carmy. Richie would be lying if he said he wasn’t purposefully using Carmy’s government name to rile him up, he knew how much Carmy hated it when you did it, and since you weren’t here someone had to uphold the tradition.
Carmy felt his eye twitch Richie’s immaturity since the argument with you felt never-ending. “Did Mikey ever trademark the name?”
Richie frowned looking between him and Nat the assumption that he had any goddamn clue laughable “What the fuck did Mikey look like trademarking shit? Wasn’t I just slangin’ crack to keep the lights on?”
Carmy’s eyes shut as Nat let out a quiet gasp, watching as Richie raised his hands in defense. Maybe running a back alley drug ring wasn’t the best for business, but without it, they may not have been in this moment renovating the restaurant.
“Well someone fucking trademarked it, Richie.” The attitude Carmy was catching was wholly unwelcome.
“I don’t like your tone, Carmen,” Richie matched Carmy’s energy giving him what he was getting. “All I’m sayin’ is Mikey didn’t trademark it whoever did might…I dunno hypothetically deserve an apology in return for said documents.”
Carmy was at his wits end with the older man “Oh so you’re the fucking Riddler now.”
“Baby trademarked the name?” Nat’s voice traveled between the trio at the same time as Carmen’s snarky remark. Carmy’s head shot to her, confused as to how she concluded you had anything to do with the conversation at hand.
“Bingo!” Richie’s hands came together in a loud clap Sydney rolled her eyes at the obnoxious man before looking over the various work orders. “She did that shit years ago and gave it to Mikey as a present, he…left it for her when he passed.”
A quiet fell over their small group, each of them taking in the gesture. Richie had only become privy to the present when he went through the office to try and make sense of what the hell Mikey was doing to keep the business up and running. He had knocked a framed picture of your group off the desk cleaning up the mess only to find the folded trademark document in the back of the broken picture frame.
Your name was haphazardly scribbled into the back of it.
Carmen’s chest heaved as he let the news wash over him, it seemed since the two of you had your falling out the universe was continuously pushing him to interact with you. He raised his hand to his face, rubbing it up and down as he added another item to the long list of things going wrong with the restaurant.
In a way, learning that you were responsible for trademarking the name made Carmy’s chest feel warm. It felt like you wanted this for Mikey just as much as he did, the two of you both supporting Mikey in ways the other never knew. It also gave him an excuse to speak with you, not that he needed one. If he was a better man he would’ve already worked up the courage to reach out to you. He could feel a headache coming on the more he thought about trying to fix things with you.
Carmen was sure he’d figure things out soon, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could figure things out with you not by his side. Which he would admit was quite ironic considering all the times he had willingly pushed you away. But being pushed away by you had proven to him just how badly he was screwing things up with you, to hear you be so upset by his actions he basically forced you into confessing your love stung him to his core.
Carmy wasn’t exactly sure what love was supposed to feel like, but he was almost positive it wasn’t this. The ache in his chest from not being around you, looking for you in every crowd he was in. Soaking up any conversation your name was mentioned in. Maybe he did know what love was supposed to feel like, because for all the time he had been in love with you, he had never once felt so completely and utterly broken as he had been since not fighting for your love a year ago like he should have.
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“That was Nat,” you looked up as Pete returned to the table, a smile growing on your face at how happy he looked to have been speaking with his wife. “Cat’s out of the bag! Our pregnancy is no longer top secret!”
Pete’s excitement was contagious, your smile growing wider at his pure joy. “Our pregnancy?” You chuckled never having heard anyone refer to it as if the pregnancy was shared.
You watched as Pete sipped the water in front of him, a signature goofy smile back on his face. “Of course! I mean yeah Nat is carrying the baby, but I’m just as pregnant as she is.” You gave Pete a confused look, a laugh bubbling out of you.
“You laugh now Baby, but I’m serious.” Pete paused as the waiter brought out the bread for your table, both of you quickly thanking them. “Nat’s my partner you know? And I’m so grateful for her providing me the opportunity to be a father. Allowing me to build with her, for us to come together and bring a child into this world, it’s a beautiful thing I love her ya know.”
The sheen in Pete’s eyes was enough to make you emotional you didn’t need to hear his explanation to know how much Pete loved Natalie, you could just see it in the way he looked at her, in the way his face would light up when anyone would mention her name or ask about her.
“I’m happy that Nat has someone like you to build a life with.” Both you and Pete shared misty-eyed smiles, chuckles leaving each of you at how emotional the small things made both of you.
“Looks like that dinner you were planning just turned into a full-blown baby shower!” The loud clap Pete’s hands made startled you. “Wow, it really will be a Baby shower!”
You watched as Pete laughed at his own pun, doing your best not to laugh along with him and encourage his bad jokes. The relationship you developed with Pete was a bit weird in the beginning, you weren’t the most open to the idea, and it’s not because you didn’t like Pete, it just felt like you were replacing Mikey.
It took a while before you could look at Pete and realize he wasn’t trying to replace Mikey’s role in your life, and that the drugs and paranoia had driven you to that conclusion. Pete was a great man, standing by Natalie’s side while she fought to keep you alive. Probably being more accepting than someone else may have been when he and Nat decided to help you. Pete and Natalie both put aside their own lives to help you get better, and get back on your feet, and while part of you wished Mikey was around to ground you as well, Pete’s love and kindness didn’t deserve to be taken for granted.
“That dinner was supposed to be a surprise for you too Peter,” you shot him a tiny glare before reaching for some bread. “I just wanted you both to have a nice night off together, no stress.” The reservation had already been made, but thinking about Pete’s words and the excitement when explaining most everyone knew about the pregnancy, maybe it would have been best for an intimate shower for the two soon-to-be parents.
Pete was definitely a family guy and Natalie came from a big family, maybe a shower would be for the best. Surround them with people who loved and supported them and just allow everyone to bask in the happiness the joyous news brought, you were sure everyone could use a break.
“Okay hypothetically say I put together a small shower for the two of you, is that even something Nat would want?” Sure you knew Nat but Pete was her husband and this was their moment, you didn’t want to ambush her with a party she never wanted.
You watched Pete bristle a little, a nervous smile raised to his lips, “I uh I’m not sure if Nat ever told you but she kinda had this…this whole dream about the two of you,” you frowned confused at what Pete was talking about.
“Well not like an unconscious sleeping dream, more like a-an idea?” Pete’s voice rose at the end of his sentence, not sure if the question in his tone was meant for you or him.
“Pete bud you lost me.” You gave him a small nod of encouragement awaiting his response.
“Um so…after your uh…loss,” a sad smile rose to Pete’s lips, you could see the apology in his eyes. “Nat she uh…she confided in me about how she always wanted to be the one to throw you a shower if you ever decided to have children. And if-when we had our own she’d want you to be in charge of hers…if you wanted to not like she would force you.” The nervous huff of laughter from Pete hung in the air for a minute.
The admission perplexed you, Nat had never brought this up to you directly and maybe it was because she felt like she couldn’t. You weren’t the most open when it came to the topic of your miscarriage always avoiding the conversation whenever Nat tried to breach it.
“Baby…you’re the closest thing Natalie has to a sister. I can promise she would be ecstatic no matter what decision you choose.”
You nodded, the motion happened unconsciously as you tried to take in everything Pete had laid on you. Of course, there were things Nat wouldn’t share with you, but while the two of you were like sisters you didn’t expect her to share every little detail with you. As you let Pete’s words digest you couldn’t help the warm feeling beginning to flood through your body, if you were being honest you weren’t sure if it was the best idea to be throwing anyone a baby shower, but you also knew Natalie deserved to be celebrated, not only for the life she and Pete were creating together, but also for all the work she was doing to ensure that The Bear had a fighting chance.
“Okay,” your head continued its up-and-down motion. “Yeah okay let’s do it but I’m going to need your help, Pete.” You watched the smile on his face increase tenfold, your own wide smile spreading your lips due to how contagious Pete’s joy was.
“Anything and I mean anything Baby, I am your guy.” Pete’s giddiness warmed you even more, you didn’t think you had ever been surrounded by anyone with such a positive attitude before. In the beginning, when Natalie and Pete first began dating, his electric personality was a bit much but you found yourself always trying to make Pete feel included, especially with how off-putting the rest of the Berzatto clan could be.
And when you were recovering it was almost like you had to re-acclimate yourself to Pete’s personality. Your recovery was hard, there were some days you weren’t even sure if you wanted to get better or if you wanted oxygen to continue filling your lungs. But Pete was so positive and always looking at life and your situation with a ‘glass half full’ mentality, that his constant belief in you helped to make the hard days easier.
A small sigh escaped your lips as you readied yourself for the question you were about to ask. “Pete, do you think you could give me Carmen’s number?” You tried not to roll your eyes as you saw Pete’s own light up, you were almost positive he would be telling Nat about this topic of conversation. “Before you get any ideas, I just need it to invite him to the shower.” You raised your hands in defense hoping Pete wouldn’t look into this any more than he already was.
“No can do B, the idea train has already left the station.” His fingers drummed on the table with excitement. “But I will do you one better,” you frowned as you watched Pete pick up his phone, fingers skating across the screen before he held it up to show you. A call to Carmen already going through as Pete sent you a thumbs-up.
You looked at the screen eyes wide, the shock temporarily paralyzed for a moment. The quiet sound of the ringing between the two of you brought you back. “Pete! Hang up the phone.” Your voice was terse as you spoke trying not to draw too much attention from other patrons.
Pete laughed, “He never answers my calls anyway.” Pete’s words irritated you, but you were glad to see the call go to voicemail before Pete pressed the end call button and set his phone down.
You let out a surprised laugh, Pete had definitely been too influenced by the Berzattos during his time with Natalie. The little stunt he just pulled was something you knew both Richie and Mikey would do if given the chance.
“Baby?” Your head raised eyes meeting Pete’s, “I know this may sound selfish, but I…I need you to figure out this thing between you and Carmen.” Your eyebrows furrowed the need to defend yourself hitting you full force, you opened your mouth to respond but stopped as Pete raised his hand, a signal to let him continue.
“I know Baby, I know. I’ll be honest with you, as much as I love Nat’s family I think you should’ve given up on Carmen a long time ago.” Your jaw fell slack, and Pete’s eyes widened a bit. “No, no just for your own wellbeing, your peace of mind.” You began nodding as Pete explained himself better. “I just, whatever is going on between you and Carmen, it’s affecting Nat. And she won’t tell you because you deserve to feel how you feel, but with the baby and the restaurant…she doesn’t need to play "Fix it Felix” with you and Carmen right now.”
You let out a small chuckle at Pete’s explanation, over the years he had begun expressing himself to you more. You being the only one on Natalie’s side who actually gave him the time of day and willfully listened to him, helped him to gain more confidence when around the rest of the Berzattos. You reached for your glass of water, taking a long sip before setting it down.
“Thank you, Pete, for being honest,” you sighed, finger playing with the condensation on your cup. “If I’m being honest, it's easy to forget that Nat’s in the middle of everything. She’s so good at pretending it doesn’t affect her.” A rueful smile rose to your lips, as great as a friend as Natalie had been to you through everything, you weren’t sure the same could be said for yourself. “You’re right, Carmen and I are adults, we should be able to figure this out ourselves. I’ll…I’ll call him, figure things out.” You sent Pete a small smile.
Recently it felt like Natalie and Pete nursed you back to health and then for some reason became your surrogate parents. You didn’t think there was anything wrong with leaning on them, the three of you did endure a traumatic experience together so it was understandable. But maybe you had become too comfortable and relied on them too much to ‘fix’ your life. You could understand where Pete was coming from and he had every right to put his wife’s well-being before the feelings of his friends.
You knew Natalie and Pete would be amazing parents and of course, Nat’s fears were valid. But you had seen firsthand just how loving, caring, and kind the couple was, and while that wasn’t all that went into raising a child it was like a part of you just knew that their child would be in great hands.
“Enough about my poor life choices Pete, have you guys thought of any names?” The timing of the question couldn’t have been more perfect, Pete perked up at the question, eyes glazing over with excitement. A waiter stopped by your table to deliver your entrees as Pete began animatedly explaining his and Nat’s process for picking names.
A part of you ached at how happy Pete was, if things were different, maybe in another life you would’ve been able to see that excitement on another man’s face. Maybe the two of you would’ve come up with your own system for picking out names.
You listened as lunch continued, no matter how many times the thought had crossed your mind, you would always be grateful that Natalie had found a partner to love her in the ways she deserved.
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 It was silent between you and Cortez as you made your second lap around the block, the church in the distance behind you. Your hands were preoccupied with a warm disposable cup of hot cocoa as Cortez gingerly sipped his choice of tea. This had become the routine for your meetings with your sponsor, the two of you would meet at the bodega a little ways away from the church that housed both AA and NA meetings. Then continue your meeting with a few circles around the block before ending at the church stairs when all was said and done.
The air was tense between the two of you, Cortez hadn’t taken kindly to your decision to skip out on the few check-ins that you had asked for. In the beginning, you were in constant contact with Cortez, feeling the match between the two of you out. As you progressed through recovery and got back into the routine of daily life the daily talks between the two of you began to dwindle as you settled into life as a recovering addict.
But after that initial meeting at The Beef, being in Carmen’s presence again, surrounding yourself with Richie and the life you once knew, the meetings with Cortez picked back up in frequency. And you were doing fine for some time, the man meeting with you when you needed it, always willing to speak with you whenever you asked and it was helpful, god was it helpful. But then you made it to step nine, step eight in the recovery program was its own monster that Cortez helped you through especially when it came to who didn’t need to be on your list.
You made the decision to text Cortez after admitting your faults to Richie. As great as it felt to finally be open with Richie and let him into your life, it also brought with it the urge to use again. Richie had been kind enough to take the bottle of champagne off your hands that night, but the desire to call Fak and ask if Theo had anything he could spare almost won out. But as you scrolled through your contacts the red icon hovering over the voicemail tab brought you back to your senses.
“So your friend Richie knows?” Your eyes shot to Cortez taking in his side profile before focusing back on their attention focused on the steaming paper cup of coffee gripped in their hands.
“Yeah, his daughter kind of spilled the beans.” You nodded playing with the frayed edges of your jeans.
“That’s a bit fucked up don’t cha think?” Cortez’s brows furrowed. “I mean how does his little girl know but he don’t that’s gotta hurt.”
You rolled your eyes, “Aren’t you supposed to like not be judgmental?” Cortez’s laugh felt like it was grating on your ears, as good a sponsor as he was, he had the personality of an annoying older brother you were happy not to have.
“It ain’t even judgment though, it’s an observation.” You didn’t have to be looking at him to know that annoying smirk was on his lips as he shrugged his shoulders.
You stopped as Cortez dropped his now empty cup in a trash bin on the street, “Didn’t know you received your inspector gadget certification.”
“That smart ass mouth is bouta be the reason you out here looking for a new sponsor,” you let out a cackle before taking a much-needed sip of your hot cocoa. “Sound like my daughter with that dumb shit.” If you didn’t know the man who was walking by your side, you would’ve thought he was actually upset, but you could tell by the uptick of his lips he didn’t take anything to heart.
The two of you rounded the corner coming up on the church. You watched as Cortez plopped his long limbs down on one of the steps, opting to sit on the railing. Cortez took out his pack of cigarettes bringing the box to his mouth and removing one before offering the box in your direction. You slipped one out a small laugh escaped you at the irony of everything, how you had once been so against the cancer sticks that those around you would make sure not to smoke around you. And then instead of indulging in a nicotine addiction, you turned to alcohol and prescription pills, the fact that you would smoke a cigarette here and there to appease your urges now felt a bit comical.
You leaned forward allowing Cortez to light your cigarette, “Man ain’t nothin’ like smoking on Big G’s doorstep.” Cortez’s voice filled the silence that had settled over the two of you, you took a drag of the cigarette, a small chuckle escaping you with the smoke.
“I used to hate these fucking things.” The disgust on your face was obvious even as the stick hung from your mouth.
“Why you take one every time I offer 'em’ then?” Cortez switched positions leaning his elbows on the step behind him as he stretched his long limbs out in front of them, offering a wave to the few people entering the church for whatever meeting was scheduled to take place.
You shrugged eyes falling to Cortez’s beat-up boots as you sucked the nicotine deep into your lungs, “They’re the same brand Mikey smoked.”
“Damn ma, that shits kinda sad.” The two of you locked eyes before small laughs left the both of you. You had been around Cortez for so long that you’d picked up on his need to turn most anything into a joke. And while in the beginning, it pissed you off, you realized that’s just who he was and that sometimes being able to laugh in serious moments or at your trauma was helpful.
“Nah seriously though better smokin’ these than messin’ with that shit that hooked you in the first place. Know what I mean?” You nodded, finishing off the cigarette in your hand before taking the second cigarette Cortez offered. You knew how these things went and had spent so much time with the man that you learned to read him. Cortez only ever smoked two cigarettes and offered you two if the conversation was gonna be a rough one.
“Where you at with them apologies?” You sighed letting the man light your cigarette one more time, allowing the fumes to warm your lungs.
You dropped from your seat on the railing, your backside had gone numb. You settled yourself to lean against the railing “I mean I told Richie the truth and there were a lot of apologies in that conversation. But I feel like he deserves a better apology.” You shrugged, your attention dropping to Cortez as he listened.
“Ima be honest wit chu, this might be the hardest part of recovery. Shit I know it was f’me admittin’ to my little girl her father was a fuckin’ junkie. But at the end of the day, you gotta remember this recovery shit is for you. If homeboy loves you like a sister like you say he does, all that should matter to him is that yo annoyin’ ass still here. A’ight, ma?” You listened, nodding along to his words. “All you can do is apologize for the shit you did, you can’t control whether people forgive you or not, and remember ain’t nobody gotta fuck with your apology if they don’t want to.”
You let Cortez’s words settle into you, to anyone else his words may not have seemed genuine but this is just who Cortez was. And you knew no matter how nonchalant he sounded he was speaking every word from his heart.
“You still fuckin with that lil dumbass boy?” The question caused you to choke on the last bit of cocoa in your cup.
“We had a falling out, he’s one of the people I have to apologize to though.” The cigarette between your fingers continued to burn. “There’s a lot I still haven’t told him…the substance abuse, the reasons behind my overdose.” An exhausted sigh pushed its way through your lips. It was like one thing after another when it came to you and Carmy.
“Listen I know we ain’t sposed to have like personal relationships and shit, but lemme know what homeboy looks like I’ll get my goons on em’ for you.” Your head fell back in laughter as Cortez raised his fist to under both of his eyes.
“No goons Cortez, please. Wait, have you ever actually put a hit on somebody before?” You obviously didn’t know Cortez as well as you would have if the two of you were friends. But it wasn’t hard to tell that he would get down if need be.
“Why someone say somethin’?” The two of you shared a laugh, the now more frequent people entering the church signifying that your time together was coming to an end.
“Aight, I gotta head in, get shit set up in there. But ima send you the info for Nar-Anon you give that shit to people who still choose to put up with yo ass. You comin' in?”
You shook your head sending him a small smile, “I came to the morning meetings today.”
You nodded in thanks as Cortez stood up, pushing yourself off the railing. You placed the cigarette between your lips leaving your hands open to do the handshake Cortez insisted you did after each meeting. When he first introduced it you were still getting used to the idea of being a recovering addict and thought he was fucking crazy. But you realized he used it as a way to break the serious desolate feeling that some of these meetings ended on, to help bring some light to what was such a dark reality.
At least that’s how he explained it to you, but you were sure he just liked doing the handshake his daughter helped him come up with.
“Ima see you when I see you ma stay straight.” You chuckled before turning on your heel to head to your parked car. Putting the bud of the cigarette out against the trash bin you passed. It was still early, enough time for you to knock out some baby shower shopping before it got too late.
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Carmen stopped in his tracks, eyes finding your figure across the street. You were in front of the church that held the Al-Anon meetings he told you about. Maybe you would be attending the one he was here for, his eyes traveled to the man sitting on the steps you were talking to eyebrows furrowing as he realized the vapors leaving your mouth weren’t from your warm temperature, but instead the stick you had raised to your mouth.
“Baby?” The question left his lips in a quiet whisper, he knew it was you standing across the street but it had been a few weeks since your last interaction he was sure he had imagined you. But he would know you anywhere, by scent alone. He couldn’t help the shock at watching you smoke, something you had been so opposed to since the two of you were children. Even going so far as telling Carmy you couldn’t be friends when he smoked his first cigarette at 15, the stalemate barely lasted a day after you realized how dumb the idea was.
Carmy watched as the two of you stood up, his hopes to see you inside dwindling as he watched the two of you begin to part ways, an intricate handshake taking place before you turned to leave. He watched as your figure disappeared around the corner, a quiet ‘shit’ leaving his lips before he darted across the street trying to catch you before you were gone for good.
“Baby! Hey!” His shouts were useless, you were too far gone to have even heard him. “Fuck!” One hand raised to sit on the bill of his cap, the universe seemed like it was doing everything in its power to keep the two of you apart. Or maybe it was just the way things were meant to be.
Carmy turned to see the man you were with still standing in the same spot you left him, eyes narrowed as he took in Carmy’s figure. The man eyed Carmy for a moment longer, sending a head nod his way before turning and entering the church. Carmy was tempted to follow the man and ask about you, but whatever your relationship with the unknown man was, it was none of Carmy’s business.
He sighed eyes shooting up to the sky before taking a deep breath and making his way inside, not wanting to be late and disturb the Al-Anon meeting before it began. Carmy made his way to the room where the meeting usually took place, eyes landing on the same man from outside once more as he greeted members, the sign near the door he stood by signifying it was an NA meeting. Carmy stopped for a moment, eyes darting between the man and the sign he’d just read.
“You lost kid?” Carmy looked at the man brown furrowed as he shook his head, he sent a tight smile the man's way before walking two doors down for his own meeting. Carmen’s brain felt like it was racing a mile a minute. If you weren’t coming to the Al-Anon meeting, why were you here? And why were you talking with someone who appeared to be leading NA meetings?
The vibrating of his phone caught his attention, the device easily slipped out of his pocket. He felt the air leave his lungs as your name flashed across his screen, he realized just how indecent setting that Polaroid picture of you with his chain on might have been now that he was in public, but it’s not like he ever thought you’d call him.
How’d you even get his number?
“Carmen, hey, we’re about to start your coming?” His head shot up to one of the usual who attended these meetings and would talk to him on occasion.
“Yeah uh, just give me a minute.” Carmy gave a tight smile, eyes flashing back to his phone finger moving to swipe across the screen, the call abruptly ending before he even got the chance to hear your voice. Carmen was sure he had the worst luck in the world, a defeated sigh leaving him, he was almost positive there was no chance you were calling him back.
Quickly putting his phone on Do Not Disturb and in the safety of his jacket pocket, he entered the meeting, as much as he wanted to drop everything and fix things with you. He wasn’t even sure what you had called him for. Carmen also knew it was for the best to attend the meeting,
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Carmen was sitting in his car allowing it to warm up as he waited. The skyline began to reflect the sunset, the time on the dashboard letting him know it was around dinner time. He fished his phone out of his pocket mindlessly checking the notifications he’d gotten while in the meeting.
Carmy’s brows furrowed at the flurry of messages he received from a group chat he wasn’t aware he was a part of. He frowned as he opened it, your contact is one of the many in the text chain. The only contact with a photo was yours, making you easily distinguishable, he realized the rest of the people in the chat were the restaurant crew. He scrolled through the messages eyes reading over your message with details about a baby shower, your address included.
Carmy exited out of his messages, unsure of how things were between the two of you. It had been three weeks since the argument and neither of you had tried contacting the other. But here he was with a message from you, and a missed call and he wasn’t sure how to take any of it.
He decided it was a good idea to call you back, and try and feel out the atmosphere between the two of you. His heart felt like it was stuttering in his chest as his finger hovered over his screen; you left him a voicemail. He needed to know what the message said, but a part of him was also worried he might not like what he heard, he had hurt you too many times to count, and if whatever you had to say to him broke him down more than he already was, well then he was sure he deserved it.
Carmen took one last deep breath before clicking on the voicemail and raising the phone to his ear, heart pounding in his chest as he heard the sweet whisper of your voice.
‘Hey Carmen, uh it’s me…Baby. Not sure why I introduced myself. I'm sure you know it’s me.” Carmy let out a watery chuckle at the sound of your voice, even if he hadn't saved your number the delicate timber of your voice would’ve been enough for him.
“Listen uh, I got your number for Pete. I hope you don’t mind, I know you have issues with girls actually having your number…Sorry, that was actually kind of rude. Anyway, I uh…Pete helped put things in perspective for me and I, I think we need to talk Carmen. I’m not sure when or if you even want that, but I think we both deserve a chance to explain our side of things. I um…I also have some things I think you should know. Just, if this is something you’re interested in, you have my number.” Carmen felt his heart rate slow down your words, nothing more than a piece offering.
���I just want to be clear though, um..if I don’t hear back from you, I’m going to take that as a sign. So yeah, call me back or something I guess.” The line finally went silent, your voice no longer caressing Carmy’s ears.
It felt like he was having heart palpitations but he knew it was just his nerves getting the best of him. He pulled the phone away from his ear, the time on his phone reading 5:30 p.m. Carmy quickly opened the group chat scrolling through to find your address and open it up in maps. You lived about 30 minutes from where he was, he was confident he could get there in 20 and spare the 10 minutes at a store near you.
Carmen made his decision as he set his phone down in the cup holder before beginning his journey. The ball was in his court, you had given him an olive branch and it was up to him whether he accepted it or not. He was nervous, maybe showing up at your house to cook you dinner wasn’t his most thought-out plan but he needed you desperately, needed to see you, be in your presence, and know that there was still a chance of something more between the two of you.
The hope Carmy felt when he saw you calling him earlier was now back tenfold: the pendant delicately resting against his chest felt warm. Carmen was adamant that he would admit his love for you tonight, unsure if he could go another day living with the fact that you were in love with him, but you still didn’t know just how much he had always loved you. You were so blissfully unaware that since he could remember, you had been the one and only option in his mind.
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a/n: wowza, long time no see. i apologize that this is a bit of a filler chapter but it felt kinda necessary idk. anway please let me know if there are any problems with this chapter it's barely edited. enjoy : )
also also: both richard cabral as coco in mayans and manny montana as rio in good girls inspired cortez the sponsor, but head canon him as whoever you want…okay bye now 🤍
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gingernut1314 · 1 year ago
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heyyy can u write something where a female reader is doing chores on the Merry and she’s singing and Buggy (as a head) is with her and hears and is immediately like JOIN MY CREW because she’s amazing and there’s some flirting <33 thanks!
Songbird
Buggy x F!Reader
Summary: Buggy has taken up calling you songbird after catching you singing to yourself to pass the time. A nickname you want to hate but can't help but secretly like. A nickname that only adds to your secret growing liking of the psychotic clown.
Tags: Angst, Flufffffff, Flirting and some spicy suggestive talk (eventual spicy next part)
Word Count: 4.9K
A/N: Thank you for the request! I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind but this is what my mind decided to write down. If for any reason you would like there to be some spice at the end...just let me know, I'll hook you up 😂 I wasn't sure if you wanted this to have any or not so I just didn't add it. Anywaaays, I hope you enjoy and thank you again for the request!!
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“Fuck, you have an amazing mouth.” The detached head of the pirate clown you were babysitting said from where you had left him to sit on the kitchen table in a hushed sort of tone. A hushed tone you did not fail to hear. You paused your sweeping of the floor, paused your absent-minded singing of some random tune you had created, to turn and glare daggers the clown's way.
“What did you just say?” You said in a warning.
“I said fuck, you have an amazing singing voice.” He said with that annoying shit-eating grin on his red-painted lips. You continued to stare down at him, about done with his bullshit. Especially since you had been the nicest babysitter he’d ever had. 
Everyone else on the Going Merry since stealing the satchel bag containing Buggy’s head had kept him in that bag. The same bag that had been dragged through the cold water of the East Blue. The same bag still full of sand and dirt and bits of food that had found its way into it during the fight back at the Baratie. The same dirty bag no one had bothered to wash and Buggy was stuck in it 99% of the time. 
And you let him out of it that last 1%. Let him breathe real air and see the sky and the sea. Let him talk your ear off even when it got on your nerves. 
And you did all that just for him to what? Cat-call you? It was almost a joke. 
You blinked at him once, twice…
“I’m getting Zoro.” You said, propping your broom up the kitchen island.
“Wait, wait, wait! Not that shithead! He nearly dropped me in the ocean!” You ignored him and started for the exit. “Wait--hold on, songbird. Just--look I’m sorry.” He grit out like it physically hurt him to say such a thing. To even think about apologizing for something you might have done wrong. 
It almost didn’t work for you. You were strong and independent. You didn’t just bend to silly little apologizes crude men shot your way…but then you thought of that bag he was stuck riding around in. Thought of the way you would feel stuck in a prison like that, not able to know exactly where your body was or what was happening to it--to have no control over your life.
You did know what it felt like to have no control over your life. To be stuck in a cold, unforgiving cage with no source of comfort or hope to be seen. And you hadn’t suffered that long in that much hate and cruelty to deal it onto another living soul. Because, despite the horrible things he had done, he was a living breathing human being. 
And hell, you were no saint. You had done horrible things in your past as well. Things that still haunted your dreams and followed you into the waking world. 
“You’re what?” You said, looking over your shoulder at Buggy who was rolling his eyes. 
“I’m not saying it again.” You shrugged.
“I’m not the one Zoro’s gonna beat the shit out of.” Buggy gave an overly dramatic, exasperated huffing noise. 
“Fine. I’m sorry.” You cupped your ear in your hand, mockingly trying to hear him better.
“Danm it. I didn’t catch that.” You said with a ‘tsk’. 
“I’m sorry!” He all but shouted, that frustration high and very clear on his face. A frustration that had satisfaction rising in your chest. “There? You happy?” You nodded, a smirk pulling to the corner of your mouth. 
“One more time might be even better, but I’ll let you off the hook.” Buggy huffed, watching as you went back to sweeping the floor. 
“I’m sorry.” He said again softly. So soft you nearly didn’t hear him. His words shocked you so much you nearly froze in your spot. It was sincere that time. Not full of his usual sass and drama. Sass and drama you refused to acknowledge you actually enjoyed. 
You knelt down, sweeping the pile of dirt into the dustpan you had grabbed from where you had left it on the island stool. 
“Thank you.” You said in an even tone. One you hardly let show just how shocked you were at him. You stood, throwing the dirt away in the waste bin before going about wiping down every surface of the kitchen that had been remotely used that day. 
“You know…I could use a songbird on my crew.” You kept wiping away, refusing to look the clown's way. 
“Really?” You questioned, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. 
“Really. I’ve never had a singer before--we could have special showcases. Buggy’s Singing Songbird!...nah. That’s no good.” He said like he was truly thinking about what the title of your act would be.
“Buggy’s Magnificent Songbird?” You offered, not truly thinking about what you were doing as you wiped down the stovetop. That funky laugh of his spilled from his red smudged lips. A funky little laugh that you very much liked because it was so unique. So out of the blue and so fitting.
“Buggy’s Spectacular Songbird.” You shot him a look to find his green-blue eyes were watching you full of excitement, that wide grin on his face once more. 
“Buggy’s Stupendous Songbird.” You said it almost as a challenge. 
“Extraordinary Songbird.” The pirate clown said, taking your challenge in an instant.
“Astonishing Songbird.” You said, moving on to wiping down the table Buggy sat on.
“Confounding.”
“Dazzling.” Buggy watched you as you scooped any leftover crumbles from the night's dinner into your hand, that smirk never leaving his lips. Lips you had to look away from before you started down a line of thinking you had been annoyingly keeping at bay ever since meeting the damn clown. 
“Breathtaking Songbird.” Damn, and those lips looked so good moving the way they were. Lips you wondered would fit nicely against yours? 
“Trying to get on my good side so you don’t have to go back into that bag?” You questioned, dumping the crumbs into the waste bin before tossing your rag into the sink, knowing you would wash it later. 
“How’d you guess, songbird?” Buggy said after a longer-than-usual pause. You glanced his way as you opened the fridge, finding those green-blue eyes still watching you. Eyes that held no malice in them…eyes you nearly drowned in every time you looked into them for too long like you’d eaten some Devil Fruit. 
On a clearing of your throat, you pulled the night’s leftovers out, grabbed a fork, and sat down at the table next to Buggy’s head. 
“What did Blondy cook up this time?” Buggy grumbly asked as you opened the container of chilled food.  
“I can’t remember. Some sort of noodle dish.” You said with a shrug, twirling some of the sauce-covered noodles onto the fork. “Sorry it's cold again, I don’t know how to work anything in here.” You mumbled, offering the cold noodles to Buggy who took it eagerly. You watched him chew as you twirled some more noodles onto his fork. “Any good?” 
“Too fancy.” He said between a chew. You gave a huff in amusement, propping your elbow up on the table so you could rest your head in your hand. 
You let your eyes roam over his features. Over clown-like make-up that was nearly rubbed completely off. Over his lips, which the bottom was just the tiniest bit fuller. Over those green-blue eyes you could get lost in for hours. Eyes lined by perfect lashes you silently envied every time you looked at them--or maybe you just envied them because it made him that much more attractive? Made it that much more hard to look away from him. 
“Yeah…Sanji’s meant for bigger and better things than feeding a group of half-assed pirates.” You said once you had to all but physically remind yourself to. He gave a chuckle of his own after he swallowed. 
“Why are you even following around that stretchy kid anyway? To be his maid?” You sat quietly as you fed him again, watching his stubble-covered jaw move as he chewed in a greedy sort of way you typically didn’t allow yourself to do. 
You wondered if it would feel as sharp as it looked. Wondered if it was strong enough to leave a nice bruise on your neck…if it could bring you tumbling over a bliss-filled edge?
“He freed me.” You said simply, twirling more noodles as you distracted yourself from his face. Buggy’s eyebrows furrowed in question. 
“Freed?” He said, his mouth still full of food. You narrowed your eyes down at him in a dramatic sort of fashion.
“It’s barbaric to speak with your mouth full, you know.” Buggy rolled his eyes for seemingly the hundredth time that night. A hundredth time you sure was not the last.
“I’m a pirate, songbird. I’m as much a barbarian as they come.” You huffed in amusement again, giving him another fork full of noodles. “Freed?” 
“Being Luffy’s maid, as you so kindly put it, is much better than being locked up in a dusty cave.” Buggy watched you as he chewed. Watched you with such intent--curiosity. To your ever-growing surprise, Buggy stayed quiet even after he had swallowed. A quiet that singled his willingness to listen to you. 
Did you want to tell him? This man who was horrible and brutal and crude and everything you shouldn’t want to be around. 
But he was…fun to be around. You had never felt trapped around him--alone. 
And your backstory wasn’t something to really keep secret…it just hurt to think about.
“I used to run with another crew of pirates a long time ago before I came here. My ship was ransacked by other pirates who had been working for some king on this tiny island. He paid them to find him labor to work his gem mines. My crew was just one of the many who became that labor. I was the only one to survive.” 
Your mind wandered darkly back to those caves. To the horrible conditions and horrendous work. To the deaths of your friends--family. “Luffy saved me. I have no problems mopping the floors or deranged clowns to pay him back.” You offered the fork full of noodles you had been twirling. He took it. 
“So you're saying I have no chance of getting you on my crew.” He said once he had swallowed, pulling a small smile to your lips. Humor. He used humor to lighten heavy situations and you couldn’t be more grateful for that. Because if you couldn’t laugh at the hurts in your life, then those hurts would eat you alive. 
“You’re special showcasing of Buggy’s Singing Songbird is going to have to wait.” 
“I thought we landed on breathtaking?” You shrugged.
“Some might say that’s too cliché.” 
“My show? Cliché? Never.” It was your turn to roll your eyes then. 
“Do you want any more?” You asked, gesturing towards the leftovers. He shook his head, an act that was strange seeing as he was just a head.
“Water?” He questioned as you packed up everything, giving a nod of your own. 
“Where does all that food go anyway?” When Buggy didn’t immediately answer, you looked over your shoulder to see he was looking at you like you were stupid or something. 
“My stomach?” He said in an equally “you’re stupid” tone. 
“A stomach that’s not attached to your head.” You said, unbothered, pulling the fridge door open and placing the remaining leftovers back. “Does it magically teleport to your body? Collect in the base of your neck?” 
“At the base--I fucking hope not.” Buggy gruffed, making you chuckle. “It teleports I guess. I don’t know, it’s not like I can ask anyone about it.” 
“There’s not like--a Devil Fruit guidebook they give you upon getting your powers?” Buggy gave a sharp laugh as you went about washing the fork and putting it away. 
“Yeah, fuck no. It’s sink or swim,” He gave another little laugh, “literally.” You huffed in amusement, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.
“I’m done for the night, I fear.” You said, knowing that meant he needed to be handed off to whoever had night duty soon, meaning he would be spending yet another night in that gross bag. Definitely spending the night in that bag since it was Zoro’s turn to take him. 
When Buggy didn’t respond right away, you looked back at him and you’re heart paused for a moment. He was winching. Like he was getting hurt by some invisible assailant. 
You’d caught him wincing and flinching like that before but hadn’t said a word about it. You knew he would just get defensive and close you off. Knew because he was a big, strong, fearsome pirate. Someone who would never just--open up like that. 
But now…now as you watched him grit his teeth to try to bite back sound, you knew you needed to ask. Because you hated watching him like that. Hated it because you--deep, deep down, like the clown. 
“Why do you keep doing that?” He snapped those green-blue eyes over to you, eyebrows narrow.
“I’m not doing anything.” He tried to hiss, but that last word was distorted from a pained sort of sound. A sound accompanied by another wince.
“Are you in pain?” You pressed, making your way to stand before him. 
“Just put me back in the bag.” He bit, those walls you knew most pirates held, beginning to build up even higher. You stared down at him for a long moment. 
You didn’t want him to close up on you. You hadn’t closed up on him. 
“You think it was easy telling you about my shit? Just tell me what’s wrong.” You snapped, placing the water down next to his head with a clunk. 
Buggy was quiet for a long moment, flinching and wincing as he thought about whether or not he would tell you. 
“You can’t do anything about it. Not until we get to that fucking, walking-fish-infested island.” It clicked then. He could still feel his body. Could still feel what happened to it. 
“They're hurting you?”
“Someone’s taken up using me as their pers--” He winced again, “--onal punching bag.” A cold anger flooded your chest. An anger you had already harbored for Arlong and his crew of fish-men for taking Nami away from you guys, but an anger that was only flamed to new heights by this new bit of information.
Because they were hurting him despite already having taken his body away. Using him as their entertainment. 
It had you remembering back to that cave again. To how your ex-captors had done the same thing. It was not something anyone should go through. 
You knew then that when you got to that island, those ruthless fish-men would become your own personal punching bag.
Buggy winched again, everting his eyes from you once more. 
“You gonna put me away so I can suffer in peace already?” He gruffed out. You sat back down, green-blue eyes glancing your way. “What?” He snapped.
“What can I do? To help keep your mind off it?” You asked, gaining Buggy’s full, stunning gaze once more. 
“Would…” He paused.
“Ask me. It’s okay.” Buggy gave a short huff.
“Would you…mind singing for me?” He asked, nerves very much clear in his voice. You blinked once, twice…
“Anything in particular?” Buggy looked almost surprised you were agreeing to his request, but you wanted to help him in some way. And you loved to sing, so singing for him--who had been an avid supporter of your voice since you met him--wouldn’t be hard at all.
“You hum a tune a lot…is there any lyrics?” You nodded.
“Yeah…it was my mother's favorite to sing to me before bed. Talks about two lovers who could never be together because one belongs to the night sea and the other belongs to the morning air.” Warmth filled your heart when you remembered those nights. Nights of being gently rocked by your mother as she held you tight, her soft voice lulling you to sleep.
“Can I hear it?” A toothless smile forms on your lips.
“Of course.” You crossed your arms, probing them up on the table so you could get comfortable. So that you could lean in closer to Buggy--to be able to see every tiny detail on his face. 
And as you began to sing, you kept your voice soft--gentle, so that he might be the only one to hear you. As if you were whispering sweet nothings in your own lover's ear. And you watched as he watched you, his flinching still present but seeming to lessened by your distraction.
The distraction that was your song, your eyes, your lips. He watched every single part of your face like it was some treasure and it had your body heating in a way you hadn’t felt towards someone in a while. 
When your song came to an end you both continued to watch the other. Continued to feel that heat that made you want to take his detached head and crash your lips onto his. 
You tried to remind yourself he was a bad guy. That he had literally tortured your friends…but you all were pirates. Pirates, most if not all the time, were ruthless and cruel. You had been ruthless and cruel before joining Luffy--still was, though you buried deep down. It was a part of the life and it didn’t stop you from wanting to kiss this stupid clown. 
“That was beautiful…shame I can’t show it to the world.” He said on a whisper. A whisper that only had you nearly absent-mindedly messing with the bits of his hair at the back of his neck that had come out of his bandana. A whisper that had you blushing like some teenager. 
“What a shame.” You whispered back, watching his lips pull into the slightest smirk. Just as you were about to act on your thoughts, Buggy’s eyes winced once more. A wince that had your thoughts and intentions of kissing him dwindle away and turned to concern. 
“I think someone’s playing darts now.” He said with a pained chuckle. “Gotta give them some credit, switching it up. I was getting bored.” You shook your head, readjusting his bandana. An action that had his eyes widening the slightest bit. 
“If you can get bored of torture.” You said with a huff before picking him up. 
“Back to the bag now, huh?” 
“No.” You said without so much as a thought. “Zoro’s just going to throw you on the ground. You’ll stay in my room…just for tonight.” You said, so that he wouldn’t get too comfortable with the idea of staying with you even though you already knew you’d probably be carrying him back to your room most nights. 
“I’m thinking you're trying to get on my good side now, songbird.” You rolled your eyes.
“Good side of what?”
“My wrath.” You shot him an unimpressed look that had him almost shrugging--if a head could shrug. “Thought I’d give it a shot at least.” 
You quickly popped your head into Zoro’s room, who was eagerly climbing into his hammock-like bed. You telling him you were keeping Buggy’s head that night only roused suspicions from the green-haired man, but you were quick to cover it by saying he had had the clown for the longest that day and you wanted him to be able to get his beauty sleep. He’d hardly complained after that and you continued on your way to your room.
It was a smaller room, but compared to the living conditions you had been in for years before this ship, it was perfect. And it wasn’t like you were the only one to have a small room, Zoro’s and Usopp’s were no better. So it wasn’t something you thought of often. 
You carefully climbed into your hammock-like bed so that you wouldn’t fall right out of it if it swung too violently, before placing Buggy on your chest. Seeing as there was nowhere else for him to really lay, this was the best and least awkward place for him to be. 
“As soon as you make this weird, I’m throwing you on the ground.” He gave you a little suggestive wink. 
“No promi--” You started to grab for him again. “AH--okay, yeesh…you’re boobs are very comfortable by the way.” 
“You can’t help it, can you?” You said, in mock disbelief.
“Just telling it as it is, songbird.” That cheeky grin plastered on his lips. You rolled your eyes in a dramatic fashion you had seen him do more times than you could count. 
“You better not snore.” You murmured, laying your head back and getting as comfy as you could while holding Buggy against you. 
“You’ve heard me snore. You’ve whacked with a pillow for it.” You smirked as you remembered the last time it was your turn to watch him at night. 
He was a loud sleeper. 
“Go to sleep.” You said, closing your eyes. The clown gave a deep huff of air that tickled the little bit of exposed skin on your chest before falling silent. A silence you found you couldn’t fall asleep in. Not when you had Buggy laying on you like this. Not when his breath was making your skin prickle with goosebumps. “Buggy?” 
“Yes?” He mumbled.
“Did you mean what you said or were you joking around?” 
“I say a lot of things, songbird. You’re gonna have to be more specific.” You huffed, opening your eyes to find he actually had his closed. He looked peaceful like this. Like he didn’t have a worry in the world. But you supposed most people looked at peace when getting to sleep. 
“About joining your crew?”
“Not everything I say is a joke, ya know.” He said, opening his eyes to look up at you. You shrugged, pulling the blanket up just a tad bit higher so that it could cover Buggy’s neck. “I’m serious about the showcase. It would bring people from miles around just to watch you perform.” You rolled your eyes.
“You mean your victims?” 
“I prefer to call them un-willing participants who are thankful to get seats at my show.” You huffed in amusement, closing your eyes again. Buggy got comfortable once more against your chest and the air fell quiet…and again you hated that quiet. Couldn’t find sleep in that quiet.
“Buggy?” He grumbled in something like annoyance. 
“Yes?” You opened your eyes to look down at him again, finding he was looking up at you with narrowed eyes. It had almost had you laughing, finding it was very much enjoyable to get on his nerves. 
“Did you mean it?” His eyebrows rose in question. 
“Mean what?” He gruffed. 
“That you thought my mouth was amazing?” A mischievous smirk pulled to his own lips. 
“Songbird, your mouth is amazing. I think your mouth would be even more amazing around--” You muffled his voice by covering his mouth with your blanket. 
“And you took it too far.” You said, though you kept your little smirk on your own face. That same train of thought had crossed your mind before…crossed it many, many times. 
You pulled the blanket away from his lips and found his own grin was still on his lips. Lips you wanted to kiss so, so badly. 
“...you have a pretty amazing mouth too--for a filthy, dirty old pirate.” His smirk fell into that of dramatic shock.
“Hey! I’ll take filthy and dirty but old? Honey, you wouldn’t know old if it slapped you in the face. I’m in the prime of my life.” You looked over his face in a slow manner so that you might get under his skin further. 
“Mm-hmm. If you can call getting your ass kicked and then getting carried around in a satchel bag by a bunch of young adults who hardly know how to be pirates the “prime of your life”.” Buggy huffed, rolling his eyes once more. 
“You're a pirate. That orange-haired chick is a pirate. You’ve got a literal pirate hunter on your crew--I was outnumbered.” He said trying to give an excuse for getting his ass beat. 
“Sure you were. It’s not like you had a whole crew to back you up or anything.” 
“You’re hilarious.” He deadpanned. A tiny chuckle left your lips as you patted his cheek. 
“I’m only learning from the best.” 
“You think I’m the best?” You shook your head, closing your eyes for the third time that night. “Are you actually going to sleep this time?” You shushed him, making a small chuckle leave his lips. 
Silence filled the room again. A deafening silence. You wiggled in your hammock to try and get comfortable, but nothing was working. So, with a frustrated huff, you grabbed hold of Buggy’s head again and turned onto your side, his face only inches away from your own thanks to the curve of the hammock. 
You tried to keep your eyes closed…to not acknowledge just how close you were to him, but your body had a mind of its own and you were looking into those green-blue eyes once more. “Sorry.” You said quickly. 
“Fine.” He said just as quickly, his eyes looking away from yours only so he could glance at your lips. You couldn’t help but do the same things.
Silence again filled the air. A silence full of foggy tension. 
“Uh--Buggy?” You asked after a moment. 
“Yes?” He asked on a whisper that had your body buzzing. 
“What are you going to do once you get your body back?” You asked, moving your hand to all but cup his jaw so that you weren’t choking him out. 
“Oh, you know…try to get back to my ship I suppose.” You nodded. The thought that you wouldn’t be able to carry him around anymore was almost…disappointing. A feeling you were the most surprised to feel out of everything else you felt towards him. 
You started to rub your thumb over his stubble-covered jaw, finding it was as sharp as it looked. It was an act that had Buggy’s eyes widening in shock and you paused. “Sorry--”
“No--uh…it’s nice. You can keep doing it--if you want.” You instantly did, loving the feel of his skin against yours.
You wondered if anyone touched him like this? If he had ever been touched in such a manner? It wouldn’t have surprised you if no one had. 
You tried to close your eyes again--tried to get some sleep, but it was no use. Your mind was wandering down a dirty path and Buggy being this close wasn’t helping. “Buggy?” 
“Songbird?” Fuck and that stupid little nickname he had given you. It was so stupid and so dumb and you couldn’t help but love hearing him say it so much. Especially in that gruffing, whispering tone he used. 
You moved that much closer to him. So close his forehead touched yours. You opened your eyes to find his green-blue ones were already watching you. 
“Do you think it's…” You bit your lip. You couldn’t ask that. He didn’t want you to ask that…
“Ask me.” He said, eyes looking between your own and your lips in a way that made you all that much more willing to risk it all and ask him.
“Do you think it's weird that I find your mouth so amazing that I would want to kiss it?” A throaty chuckle rang through your ears.
“Do you think it’s weird that I want to kiss that amazing mouth of yours back?” You tried not to show the excited nerves racing around your body as you shook your head. 
“No, I don’t think it's that weird.” That goofy grin pulled to his lips.
“So we both have amazing mouths that want to kiss each other…oh, what to do, what to do?” You couldn’t help the laugh that cut through your lips, your smile cracking to the surface. 
“Gods, you’re so stupid.” You teased before pulling his face against yours and claiming those red-painted lips of his. Lips that weren’t all that surprisingly soft, seeing as his painted lips had protected them from the sun and wind--probably kept them very moisturized. 
You kissed him near feverishly, Buggy kissing you back at just the same rate. Buggy’s tongue licked at your top lip in a silent question of entrance and you gladly allowed it, tongues dancing a dangerous battle for dominance. Dominance Buggy surprisingly won, even without the help of his body. 
It was all-consuming and burned at your body in a way that had you wishing for more. A wish you knew you wouldn’t get unless you sailed to that fish-men-infested island and took his body back right then. You both pulled away, catching your breath.
“When you get your body back,” You said on a pant. “We’ll find someplace away from the others…see where this goes?” Buggy watched your lips for a moment, that smirk right back on those soft, soft lips. 
“Songbird, when I get my body it’s going to be a struggle to not drag you away with me.”
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