#would love for her to move over here but its ridiculously hard for no reason

[flickerbit]

So I might be moving to the uk 😳

[loumauve]

the goddamn toast water post just made me utter "history is fucking real" in the most solemn and serious tone of voice, out loud, to myself, in the goddamn bathtub

[jaeyunverse]

the fake dating pact

pairing(s): park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre(s): fluff, suggestive, fake dating, enemies to lovers, rich kid au, cruise au

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): profanity, making out, implications to sex (no smut)

inspired by: dil dhadakne do

summary: in which ridiculous circumstances lead to a fake dating contract pact being struck between park sunghoon and you.

note: i’m ngl i thought i’d reposted this fic but i’m not able to find it so here we go LOL the sunghoon brainrot’s been hitting real hard lately

masterlist

There was a slight chance Sunghoon and you had crossed the boundaries you’d set when you first drew up your fake dating contract.

Okay, agreement would be a more accurate word choice since the document wasn’t legally binding, but the two of you took its contents very seriously. Together, you’d come up with a few mutually acceptable ground rules:

no kissing unless absolutely necessary

non-sexual acts of intimacy are acceptable in order to maintain the facade

keep arguments to a minimum no matter how insufferable the other person is being

no bed-sharing under any circumstances

no falling for park sunghoon even though he is the epitome of sexiness

The last condition was total bullshit, but you didn’t have it in you to make him get rid of it. Your mom had already done an excellent job at pissing you off; the last thing you wanted to do was get into it with Sunghoon.

One may wonder what caused the two of you to make this pact. Simply put, both your families desperately wanted to set you up with people you had no interest in dating.

(Not that you wanted to seek a romantic relationship with Sunghoon either, but we’ll get into that later.)

Lee Saerom had organised a cruise across the Mediterranean Sea on the occasion of her parents’ 30th wedding anniversary. Normally, your family wouldn’t have come within 10 feet of the Park family, but you were both good friends of the Lees and neither of you wanted to give the other the satisfaction of avoiding the trip.

Now that all the powerful and influential families of Seoul were gathered in the same place for a celebration spanning over a few weeks, your parents thought it would be a good idea to find you an ideal suitor who would help their company expand.

Word spread that you were seeing Lee Heeseung, the younger son of the Lees and heir apparent to their empire. The rumour was entirely false, but you had to admit it was a genius move on your parents’ part. Not only did it become harder for Heeseung and you to deny the allegations, but it made the Lees consider a future with your family’s business.

As if you weren’t in a shitload of mess already, the entire thing had somehow turned into a competition with the Parks beginning their own efforts to set Sunghoon up with Ning Yizhou.

The minor problem was that Heeseung and Yizhou were in love with each other, and neither of them had the courage to tell everyone the truth. They were both too afraid of disappointing their parents and bringing disgrace to their families.

You supposed it was a good thing Sunghoon and you had no such qualms. So, before things could escalate any further, the four of you got together and decided to put an end to this idiocy.

On the third night of the cruise, Sunghoon and you announced your relationship. Holding his hand and giving him lovey-dovey eyes felt ridiculous, but you would rather stomach fake dating him than see a wedge form between Heeseung and Yizhou.

Needless to say, everyone was shocked.

Yizhou even pretended to faint while Heeseung started sobbing hysterically. You couldn’t believe he actually pulled out a tear stick and applied it to the underside of his eyes when no one was looking. You wondered if he’d purchased it for this specific reason when you’d explored Turkey earlier that day.

Overall, it was a pretty convincing act.

The Lees and Nings were furious, but you weren’t particularly worried. In fact, you didn’t even care. Your parents had it coming their way the moment they dragged you into their scheming and plotting.

It took a few days for everyone to calm down and for the festivities to resume, but things pretty much went back to normal. Sunghoon and you both got tongue-lashings from your families, but they didn’t make you two break up.

Your reputations were already in the gutter; forcing you to end your relationship after all that had conspired would have been the cherry on top of your disaster of a cake.

The pre-decided course of action was to fake date Sunghoon till the cruise ended. Once you returned to your daily lives and enough time had passed, you would cook up a reason to break up.

It didn’t take long for your original plan to go to shit. As it turned out, spending a week pretending to love the bane of your existence had proved to be quite the opportunity to really get to know him.

Ever since you were a kid, you’d heard your parents say a lot of terrible things about the Parks. You’d been instructed to stay far away from Sunghoon. An impressionable and susceptible child such as yourself had obeyed every order they gave you.

You’d literally been hard-wired to despise and assume the worst of Sunghoon.

The wall of hatred you’d built between the two of you began coming down brick by brick once you learnt the kind of man he was. He was honourable and good and down-to-earth.

Of course, he was a dickhead to you for the same reason you were a bitch to him, but the asshole side of him was more endearing than annoying now.

His snarky replies no longer seemed to bite, and there was always an underlying film of adoration accompanying them.

Perhaps, he’d grown to care for you just as you had for him.

You certainly hoped that was the case, since regularly making out with someone who couldn’t be bothered with you wasn’t exactly your dream.

To this day, you had no idea how you’d ended up grabbing the collar of his shirt and crashing your mouth against his.

Maybe it was because he kept reminding you that you’d lost a bet to him and you wanted to shut him up, or maybe it was because he hadn’t bothered to button up his shirt and his abs were on full display, the ocean wind ruffling his messy hair.

Nonetheless, something seemed to snap in him when you made the move. He responded to your kiss immediately and pinned you against a wall. Thankfully, it was almost midnight and there was no one to witness your less than decent makeout session on the deck.

The next ten minutes consisted of his hands travelling under your loose shirt, fingers grazing the cold skin of your abdomen. Soon, your shirt was discarded, and your legs were wrapped around his waist.

Sunghoon hadn’t bothered stopping even when you ran out of breath. Instead, he’d taken the opportunity to leave bruises on your jaw and neck. The warm feeling of his tongue soothing the spots where he’d nipped at your skin with his teeth had caused you to experience a burning need for desire that went further than the second base.

The amount of reaction he’d gotten out of you was embarrassing. Never had you been unraveled by anyone so effortlessly. He had to muffle the whimpers that slipped past your lips as a result of his ministrations.

If it weren’t for the fact that you were making out in the open and were at the risk of being walked in on, things would have escalated. By the time you parted, Sunghoon’s lips were swollen, his face was flushed and he was breathing hard.

His eyes were hooded and dark, and he was gazing at you with an intensity that made you shiver.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek, fetched your shirt from the ground and hurried away.

You didn’t even know why you thought things would go back to normal the next day.

One look at him, and your legs turned to jelly. You happily obliged when he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and whisked you away from everyone else.

Soon enough, you’d breached almost all the conditions in your fake dating pact.

You spent most of your nights together—be it hooking up, lying in the comfort of each other’s arms or just talking till slumber claimed you. Never in your life had you imagined being at ease around Sunghoon.

Everything else faded away when you were with him. He made you feel yourself. He made you feel whole.

“Hey,” you murmured while you were both swimming in the pool one night, the stars shining brightly in the sky. His eyes were closed and his neck was tilted up, the back of his head resting on the decking behind. “Can I ask you something?”

Sunghoon hummed and opened his eyes, turning his attention to you. “Yeah.”

“I know we have a plan,” you continued, doing your best to ignore the droplets clinging to his skin, “and I know that we’re supposed to stop pretending after this cruise ends tomorrow, but have you ever thought about making this—” you pointed at him, and then at yourself— “real.”

He laughed softly and shook his head in amusement. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m not joking—”

“Every single day,” he interrupted you. Wading his way through the water to close the distance between your bodies, he repeated, “I have thought about making you mine every goddamn day.”

He cupped your cheeks and rested his forehead against yours. “I think I’ve fallen in love with you, Y/N,” he whispered.

Taking a shuddering breath, you closed your eyes and felt him press his lips to yours.

The kiss was slow and passionate, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. It expressed what couldn’t be said using words, and you realised just how much you’d grown to admire and care for this man.

It physically pained you to consider the possibility of a life without him.

“Sunghoon,” you mumbled against his mouth. “I would say I love you too but I don’t wanna breach the contract.”

He chuckled and ran his tongue along your bottom lip, even going as far as to suck on it. “I thought you broke the last rule days ago.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face. You opened your lids and shifted to get a better look at his expression.

Sunghoon’s eyes were shining with happiness, and you thought you could gaze into them forever. You thought you could witness the grin on his face and hear his honeyed laugh without ever getting tired. You thought you could stand ground against anything life threw at you if you had him by your side.

You knew you could love him and be loved by him for as long as your soul wandered through the worlds.

“I love you too.”

[solar-wing]

⚣ Idiots In Love 🤦‍♂️

⚣🤦‍♂️ A/N → This is a request that I got from my previous account. It's not a re-post though. This is freshly written and done. Here you are @alexanderstarhero! I hope you like it! Not one of my best, but I did get a similar request to this one, and I wanted to get it out. Warnings: Omegaverse | Oblivious Friends to Lovers | Jealousy | Canon-Typical Violence | Kissing and marking | etc.

⚣🤦‍♂️ Summary → Nothing is more frustrating than watching two people who are clearly in love with each other be completely oblivious and ignorant of each other's feelings. It's so obvious, like come on, how could they not see it? Wait, did Conner just protectively wrap his arm around Y/N when Wally got too close? And they're supposed to be "friends?" I can't take this anymore. I'm DONE! I'M OVER IT!

⚣🤦‍♂️ Words → 5.0k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

Also, vote in my Omegaverse/Yandere poll here!

⚣ ENJOY 🤦‍♂️

It was so sweet, yet also so painful to watch. How could you two be that affectionate and cute with each other, and still have no clue of the feelings you both held? It had to be a screw loose in the brain or something because this was just getting ridiculous.

Shortly after Zatara became the new Dr. Fate, Zatanna, his daughter, reached out to his son and her adoptive brother, Y/N Zatara to come join her at Mount Justice and join the Team. He was more than thrilled at the offer and immediately packed up his things from his boarding school and joined his sister in Happy Harbor.

Y/N had always wanted to join the Justice League’s newest stealth and covert team when it was first formed, but Zatara would not allow it. He didn’t want either of his children to join the Team for various reasons. Specifically, he didn’t want to create any chance or risk of losing Zatanna, his only connection to his deceased wife, Sindella.

For Y/N, he knew the life of a superhero and its sometimes cruel and unfair conditions. The magician knew the already hard life the young omega was given early on and didn’t want to add to it.

When Y/N was very young, he’d become an orphan, his parents disappearing under mysterious circumstances. So, he was placed in foster care and moved between many different foster homes. As the story typically goes, he felt out of place and never really accepted in any of the homes his CPS agent would place him in.

Not just for his magical abilities, but sometimes also for his daily obvious submissive nature. Even if he hadn’t presented yet, Y/N always showed early traits of an Omega dynamic. And, just as many places in the world that had yet to move forward in modern times, there was an inherent bias in the foster care system that favored Alpha or Beta children over Omegas.

It wasn’t until his 5th or 6th foster home that he ran away, and happened to come across a battle between Zatara and Wotan. The magician’s curiosity had been piqued when this random child helped him in taking down the sorcerer. After hearing a bit of the young child’s story, he decided to take him under his wing and adopt him as his son.

Many jokes were made by different leaguers about how he needed to be careful or he’d turn into Batman 2.0.

The Dark Knight did not find the joke amusing.

When Zatara had brought Zatanna to the Team’s new base shortly after their creation as a stealth unit for the Justice League, Y/N wanted to join along, but Zatara insisted he stay at his school and focus on his studies. That’s why he was absent for the first adventures his sister got to join in.

Things changed though when Zatanna decided to use the Helmet of Fate in the battle against Klarion after he split the world into two dimensions with one only full of adults and the other only full of children. As fate would have it (pun unintended), Nabu, the spirit possessing the helmet refused to give up her body as he felt it necessary he establish himself permanently on Earth to prevent the world from falling into chaos.

A deal was made between Zatara and Nabu that he would trade places with his daughter, becoming the new Dr. Fate.

After that, Zatanna’s life was moved from New York to Mount Justice where she lived alongside Miss Martian and Superboy. M’Gann did her best to help her new comrade and roommate feel welcomed, excited at having another girl living at Mount Justice and being able to do all sorts of Earth girly stuff as she saw on TV, but it wasn’t enough.

Zatanna craved familiarity. She missed her home and her dad, and though nothing would ever be able to replace those feelings, she figured having her brother around would help her feel less alone after just a few months of living at the Cave

Yes, was it a bit selfish? Kind of, but, in her defense, Y/N had already wanted to join the Team the second he found out about it. It was their dad who wouldn’t let him, so of course, when he got the call from his sister, he wanted to immediately pack up his things and move himself to Happy Harbor.

But, of course, adults had to intervene. Their leaders suggested Y/N wait till he finished the semester at his current school and then transfer over in the new year after winter break was over. Not what they initially wanted, but knowing they would eventually be together in a few months was enough to hold them over.

After the entire mess with Vandal Savage and his scheme of taking the Justice League was over, Batman and Black Canary began the official process of transferring Y/N over to Happy Harbor. They handled all of the paperwork and administrative details on Zatara’s behalf, and soon, both the Zatara siblings became full-time members of the Team.

The day Y/N arrived was one to be remembered. His future teammates couldn’t think of a time they had seen Zatanna so anxious and excited. When the Zeta Tube machines began whirring up and the automated voice announced his arrival, she almost left skid marks on the floor from how fast she sprinted to the opening.

The very first moment Y/N came through, she immediately ran forward and tackled him into a hug with him returning the gesture as well, happy to see his sister. The other team members watched in silent awe, some a bit emotional than others (*cough* Wally *cough*).

After their tearful reunion, Zatanna introduced her brother to the rest of the team. Everything went smoothly until she got to Superboy, who Y/N immediately became nervous and flushed around the second he laid eyes on the Kryptonian.

Zatanna and Y/N always kept in contact through phone calls, emails, and letters while he was away, and that didn’t change when she met the Young Justice team. 

In her messages, she described the Team and its different members, the missions they went on, and all the different stuff about the Cave. She also went into very specific details about one particular member of the group, even going as far as to send pictures sometimes whenever the group took photos together.

Knowing her sweet, Omega brother, and his overly romantic way of thinking, she knew if he and Superboy had ever met, he’d more than likely fall head over heels. Zatanna herself was a Beta, so she wasn’t easily swooned by the sight and smell of Alphas and Omegas like her brother or other certain members of the team (*cough* Wally *cough*).

However, she didn’t expect the surprising (at least to her) relationship between Conner and M’Gann. That truthfully was the plot twist of the season. She was no relationship expert, but if you asked her, those two just didn’t make sense.

There was no chemistry, no connection or spark that even the strongest telescope could see between them. The most you could see was physical attraction if even that. So when it came down to their eventual split a few months later, Zatanta, out of everybody else on the team, was not even the slightest bit surprised.

M’Gann swore they were just on a small break and would be back together in no time, but the sorceress was almost positive it wasn’t happening. Conner showed no interest in wanting to get back with her, which was the entire reason she even started poking at the idea of him and Y/N together in the first place.

They would look so good together, and oh god, could you imagine their children? Cutest kids ever. She wasn’t biased at all, but seriously? Take one look at Y/N, then look at Conner who’s basically the standard of the attractive himbo– ahem, male. 

She could even remember her and her dad doing all the thinking of the world of who Y/N’s parents could be.

You didn’t get looks like those by wishing for it or casting a spell…

Hold up?

…

Nah.

Yet, the only issue getting in the way was their inability to confess their obvious feelings for each other. It was like that feeling you get when watching a Dora episode and the twitch but replacing it with a b kept asking for something that was literally RIGHT THERE.

Like, girl, ARE YOU BLIND?!

That had to be the case, considering both reactions from Y/N and Conner when they were introduced.

As mentioned before, Y/N became flustered and nervous, almost stuttering over his words when he went to shake hands with Superboy. He’d been smooth and charismatic with everyone else on the team, but, as Zatanna predicted, the Omega immediately grew a crush on the young superhero. And it definitely wasn’t one-sided.

You know in those cheesy romance novels and movies (Disney we’re looking at you), when the two lovebirds or soulmates first make contact, and there’s that ‘spark’ between them. Like long-lost lovers or some shit like that?

Let’s just say, this was a bit more, extra if you will.

Conner had only been out of his pod for a few months, and what he had yet to discover was that the human part of his DNA meant his genes were also subjected to Alpha/Beta/Omega biology, unlike M’Gann and her Uncle or even Clark. Not much study had been done yet on Kryptonian biology and if they were affected by a similar biological dynamic system like most homo-sapiens were. 

Martians were never known to have such a thing in their biology according to Martian Manhunter.

Therefore, it never occurred to anyone the possibility that Conner could very well end up presenting a dynamic at some point if he hadn’t already. When he met Y/N and shook hands with him, you could say his reaction was surprising, bordering on terrifying or hot. Your choice.

The Kryptonian’s nose had flared and he ended up yanking Y/N into his arms, aggressively sniffing at his neck. He also uttered the word ‘Mine’ while glaring and growling at anyone who dared take a step too close.

Hmm, does anyone else have the weirdest sense of Déjà Vu? Weird.

It became clear to everyone right there Conner’s biological dynamic; Alpha. And, considering meeting Y/N was his first time meeting an Omega ever, he reacted quite better than many before they’d seen, which was a bit shocking when you think about it.

The man literally came out of his pod swinging and punching, not to mention his less-than-tactical way of dealing with confrontational situations. Everyone chalked it up to his Kryptonian DNA and his isolation from society for his aggressive ways.

Nope, it was just regular Alpha-like temper tantrums. Typical.

Plus, most of the guys were either Alphas, except for Dick who had yet to present. Artemis and Zatanna were both betas, making Y/N the first and only Omega on the team.

The others managed to separate the two, and when Conner got himself back under control, he apologized embarrassingly before excusing himself. Everyone had brushed it off and wouldn’t hang it over his head, knowing from experience how bad those situations can get when you experience your first ‘hormonal instinct takeover’, or H.I.T. as most would call it.

Whoever thought of that must have considered themselves quite clever. Getting hit with H.I.T.? So corny.

That interaction all but confirmed Zatanna’s predictions that Conner and Y/N would end up together. Though, he didn’t score high in M’Gann’s favor at all.

She wasn’t pleased with that interaction at all and wanted to avoid the possibility of having any repeat mistakes in the future. Things would not go her way. In truth, they would go the opposite.

After they showed him the Cave, they let him get set up in his room which was conveniently right next to Conner’s room. Something else the Martian girl was 100% not happy about.

She tried to point out the fact that maybe if Conner was getting used to his new Alpha dynamic, having an Omega room right next to him wouldn’t be the best idea since it could be a trigger for the Kryptonian. It almost worked too, but once again, things did not go her way.

Surprisingly (not for Zatanna), it was Conner who shot down the idea, saying that he could control himself and didn’t think it necessary for Y/N to move rooms. Besides, the Omega had already started unpacking and getting comfortable, and he didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Which was half the truth…

Little did he or anyone else realize, Conner was already falling in sync with his natural Alpha instincts. And the most urgent of those at the moment was keeping the Omega he desired in a close enough place where he could protect and watch over him.

The thought of having Y/N in a room farther away where he couldn’t immediately get to him if something were to happen left a very sour feeling in the Alpha’s stomach. Thankfully, Batman and Black Canary agreed to let him keep the room. But, Conner would be working with the Dark Knight on controlling and understanding his new biological nature since that was something the G-Gnomes couldn’t telepathically teach him.

M’Gann was not happy.

Zatanna was ecstatic.

Y/N was nervous but also giddy. The Kryptonian was not alone in his feelings or instincts taking over as the second anyone suggested a room change, the Omega was prepared to fight (metaphorically speaking) to stay exactly where he was.

He wasn’t blind at all. Y/N caught on to M’Gann’s motives the second she opened her mouth, and he wasn’t going to let her win if he had anything to say about it. The more time Conner and Y/N spent around each other, the more protective and jealous each other became when it came to anyone else coming around them. Specifically, anyone they saw as a threat.

For Y/N, that was obviously M’Gann.

As time passed by and he got more acclimated into the team, he was not oblivious to the many attempts M’Gann would make to flirt and get back with Conner, even going as far as one day just blatantly asking him if he ever thought about her.

The Kryptonian was kind enough not to embarrass her in front of everyone and pulled her out of the room to explain his platonic feelings for her. Y/N heard everything though, thanks to a spying spell he secretly cast.

And Y/N is not shy about staking his claim on the Alpha, even though they’re only friends. He finds subtle ways to leave his scent on Conner, whether that’s giving him subtle touches where he knows his scent glands are, asking to wear his jacket when he pretends to get cold, or finding an excuse to hug or touch the boy.

Also, if the Alpha ever needs anything, Y/N is the first to grab and provide what it may be. Not only did it please his nature to know he was taking care of an Alpha, but it also satisfied his territorial side whenever M’Gann saw or heard Conner praising him for his assistance.

His biggest success though may have been after an incident where M’Gann tried to read his mind only to have her thoughts scattered by his defensive spell. Y/N was never a big fan of the telepathic link of communication they used on missions, giving M’Gann unlimited access to all of their thoughts.

He placed a protective spell over his and Zatanna’s minds with her permission that would only allow M’Gann access to communicating thoughts and nothing else. If she went searching for more, the spell would activate and deflect her signal right back to her mind, scrambling her head. Imagine a brain freeze or your worst headache, and then put it on steroids. Served her well.

He discreetly put one on Conner as well, but knew he would take it off eventually as he didn’t want to overstep boundaries.

Of course, this caught the attention of others when the Martian girl was more or less screaming in pain for a solid minute. The effect didn’t last long, so she wasn’t being tortured for an extended period, only long enough to teach her a lesson. 

When Aqualad asked what happened, Y/N simply explained his discomfort with having an open link into each of their minds and his protective measures in case someone decided to get a little nosy. M’Gann’s little reaction proved his concerns were justified.

The mage suggested that he could use the same spell which would allow them to communicate telepathically still, but just that. No reading one’s thoughts and mind.

Everyone readily agreed to this, of course, the only one protesting it was M’Gann, but considering she was outnumbered, she had no choice but to go along. Aqualad also requested he place that defensive spell on each one of their minds, just in case any of them were to have run-ins with a mind-reading villain like that time in Bialya.

When it came time for him to put the spell on Conner, Y/N decided to come clean and admitted he already placed a spell on him. He claimed it was because he heard how the G-Gnomes used to control him telepathically and figured he wanted to erase any chance of that, which was true, but not the only reason. 

Thankfully, the Kryptonian didn’t question him, finding comfort and admiration in the fact that he would go out of his way for him like that. His Alpha side was very happy.

Zatanna, of course, knew better and was very happy watching this entire thing unfold.

Now, on Superboy’s end, his threat was basically anyone who was not either a female, another Omega, or himself. Meaning he sees not just his enemies as a threat to claim over Y/N, but even some of his allies as well.

If he and Y/N were in the same room together and Kal, Wally, or Dick entered, Conner immediately would be on edge. He’d watch their every move like a hawk, especially if they came too close toward the mage for his liking. 

If any of them were to be talking to the Omega, they’d turn to find a very aggravated and tense Kryptonian glaring at them with a very clear message. One wrong move and their mentors would be looking for new mentees.

It was something he had to work hard on in his training with Batman and now Superman as well, taming his jealous and possessive instincts. He learned that while Kryptonians don’t share the same biological dynamics as humans do, they do still have stronger instincts and urges, which can amplify his already strong Alpha nature.

It proved easier said than done.

It was so easy for him to let his protective nature take over, even when Y/N was perfectly safe or in total control of a situation.

Many times on missions, Conner would all but demand that Y/N be paired with him if they were to split up. Even if it sometimes made sense for the mage to be paired off with a different person, he’d barely budge. With Artemis or Zatanna, he was lenient. M’Gann was just an automatic no. And any of the other guys, it’d be easier to ask Batman to not brood for one day.

That wasn’t even the worst part, though. Many times on missions or in battles, the Kryptonian would demand Y/N stay back and let him handle the fight, even if the mage was winning.

At one point, Wotan sought revenge against Zatara, Dr. Fate, and the Omega who defeated him so many years ago and had once again combined forces with Klarion to put many heroes in the Justice League under a spell. Similar to when that mind control thing happened with Vandal Savage, but this time, they were instructed to just destroy those three.

Of course, as Fate would have it (no pun intended), Superboy and Y/N ended up facing off against Superman. Now, given the last time the two Kryptonians faced off, you’d think Conner would have taken the back-pedal, considering they both shared a similar weakness to magic.

Nope.

Conner insisted that Y/N stay behind him and that he would take care of Superman himself. He held out for as long as he could, but, at some point, the mage just couldn’t continue to sit by and watch.

They won the battle, and Zatanna and Y/N were able to break the spell over the heroes, but Conner was not happy with the Omega at all. However, he couldn’t figure out if he was more upset about the fact he disobeyed him or that he put his life in danger for him. 

And, truthfully, he had to wonder if he was only upset and not also appreciative and grateful for the knowledge of knowing that if he truly was ever in trouble, he could count on Y/N to be there to help him when he couldn’t help himself.

Again, Zatanna was fully enjoying herself watching this play out.

Yet, the longer it went on, the more she and the others got tired of waiting. Even M’Gann was getting restless wondering when those two were going to man up and admit their feelings.

In the beginning, Y/N and Conner were both very awkward around each other, considering how they first met. The Kryptonian felt as if he didn’t know how to approach the Omega without humiliating himself again. And, the mage felt like he didn’t know how to talk to the Alpha without getting flustered and nervous and saying something embarrassing.

Truly, two peas in a pod.

But, their mutual affection and painfully obvious feelings for each other would bring them closer over time, and they soon became almost virtually inseparable. There weren’t many instances where anyone could say they saw one without the other. Especially Conner who always made it a point to be in the same vicinity as Y/N.

Zatanna and the others eventually got tired of waiting and cooked up a plan to get the two together so they could finally end this drawn-out torture. Since they were both so oblivious, they decided the best way to get them to admit their feelings was for lack of a better phrase, ‘forcing them in a corner.’

Some legitimate concerns did come up considering their plan consisted of Wally flirting with Y/N to irritate and make Conner jealous. The main one came from the speedster himself in how they would keep the Kryptonian from trying to essentially murder him.

Don’t get him wrong; Wally was no coward. But, he knew when he was outmatched in a fight, and considering how territorial and aggressive Alphas could get when they felt challenged since he was one himself, the possibilities were all too real in his mind.

Zatanna, Dick, and the others promised they wouldn’t let that happen, but it didn’t do much to alleviate the concerns in his mind. But, in a surprising twist of events, it turned out Conner wasn’t the one they had to worry about.

They put their plan into action early in the mornings, with Wally giving subtle one-liners and suggestive looks in Y/N’s direction. As predicted, Conner immediately became disgruntled, growing irritated and frustrated with every flirty line and look out of the speedster’s mouth toward his Omega (at least in his mind).

Y/N was surprised by this as well and did his best to ignore Wally’s advances, but not good enough in a certain Martain’s eye. 

M’Gann was not in on Zatanna’s plans for obvious reasons, and when she saw Wally’s attempts at flirting with the Omega took that as her golden opportunity to win Conner back. She found the Alpha in the training room by himself, a rare occurrence where Y/N was nowhere in sight.

He was busy sparring with the reinforced punching bag Batman created for him, doing his best to control and tame his anger like Superman and Batman taught him. But, his super hearing wouldn’t allow much of that since he could still hear every flirty line out of Wally’s mouth which just increased the intensity of his punches.

M’Gann took advantage of his angry state, trying to paint a false, negative image of Y/N that if he really cared about the Kryptonian, he wouldn’t entertain any of Wally’s behavior at all. She was laying hands on his hard, shirtless body doing her best to give her most alluring eyes while looking at his sweaty and angered face.

Conner was so in his head with his anger and frustration that he barely reacted or moved when M’Gann pushed herself closer, looking as if she was going in for a kiss. Of course, as fate would have it, that was the moment Y/N chose to walk in on them with Wally and the others in tow.

It was almost as if time had paused and then skipped a few seconds because before anyone could react, Y/N had cast a spell that blasted M’Gann to the other side of the room. No one had seen the Omega that angry before (besides Zatanna) didn’t know how to react when he stomped toward the Martian who was just getting herself off the floor.

When it looked like no one was going to do anything, Zatanna was about to step in until Conner intervened, grabbing Y/N, and holding him against his body while instructing the others to check on the Martian to make sure she was okay. He dragged the furious Omega out of the room, Zatanna subtly smirking as she watched before going to help M’Gann.

Conner marched them both toward his bedroom, shutting the door forcibly behind him before pushing Y/N against the surface, smashing his lips against him to silence the Omega’s angry shouts. Shocked, surprised, bewildered, all words you could use to describe Y/N's reaction to the sudden kiss, but resistant? Not in this universe or the next however many.

He immediately gave in to the Kryptonian’s demanding and rough lips, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his hands squeezing and pulling his waist against his. They became a tangled mess of limbs as Conner moved them from the door over to his bed, carefully laying the Omega’s body onto the mattress while positioning himself on top.

Eventually, they broke their lips apart, but the Alpha wasn’t done yet. He greedily ran his lips up and down the Omega’s jaw and neck, giving into his possessive nature and leaving as many bites and hickeys as the eye could see. 

At that point, Y/N was begging for the Kryptonian to knot and mark him, seeing as how Conner wasn’t shy this time about letting the smaller male know who’s Omega he was. His Alpha nature and instincts were very satisfied seeing the mage so desperate and needy for him, wishing suddenly he could take a picture to capture this moment.

And while tempted to give in to the Omega’s cries and pleas, he opted to resist, wanting to save that moment for a more special occasion.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Y/N pouted.

Conner grew a smug look at the bratty Omega before running his nose down his neck toward his scent gland. “That’s fine. Besides, why should I reward you after letting another Alpha flirt with you all day?” Conner asked, a crossed expression passing over his face.

“I wasn’t letting him flirt with me. I was trying to get him to stop and avoid him all day since I knew it would make you upset.” Y/N said in reply.

“How did you know I would be upset?”

“Dude, anytime one of the guys even breathed at me, you got angry. You were ready to break Dick’s arm that time he caught me falling from that stairway.” Y/N laughed.

“He shouldn’t have his hands that low on your waist. You can easily catch someone using their armpits.” Conner said, a childish ‘hmph’ leaving his lips.

“Yeah, okay Mr. I can lift a car with my pinky.”

Conner rolled his eyes, before using his hands to tickle the Omega’s sides, “You think you’re so funny.”

Y/N tried to fight against the laughs coming up his chest and push Conner away, but the Alpha was obviously stronger than him and easily held him down while continuing to tickle him mercilessly. Eventually, he released him and they both calmed down.

The Alpha continued to lay gently on top of the Omega, burying his face in the smaller male’s neck to breathe in his scent while Y/N rubbed his hands up and down the larger male’s back and through his dark hair. It was intimate and peaceful, the two lovebirds finally enjoying what they both had secretly been craving for so long.

Eventually, their friends came to check on them, interrupting the special moment. Wally apologized to Conner after he and Zatanna explained their plan, to which the Alpha and Omega gave unamused looks to their friends, though they both appreciated the gesture since it did help them finally get together.

Y/N also apologized to M’Gann for his behavior but did warn her that if ever tried something like that with his Alpha again, she’d realize just how creatively violent he could get with his magic. Surprisingly, she also apologized, but the Omega could tell that his friends probably forced her to do so.

Either way, he was happy.

He and his idiot Alpha were finally together.

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[sseomtada]

being [ruben dias]

your move to Manchester signifies a triumph - the result of nearly a decade of relentless, hard work. However, your sweet victory is quickly turned sour when you reencounter the person you once deeply loved.

a/n: remade secretly only to be back on my bs...here's to praying for me to finish this fic? | 1/??? | 4191 words

This weather was nothing short of an utter atrocity.

It was the kind of bone-chilling freeze that overpowered even your skin's ability to raise its own flesh. Every ounce of energy repurposed instead to turn that evolutionary feature inwards. A futile effort, at least in your case. Even back home in Amadora, you suffered from genetic lack of internal warmth.

Miserable environment aside, the move would be worth it. Everything that you’ve done for the past few years - nearly a decade of sleep deprivation, being the brunt bearer of power trips and clinging to the slimmest sliver of rarely presented opportunities - had led to this.

Not the brutalist view spanning the length of your new floor to ceiling living room windows, but what it signified. Growth. The expansion of your firm here, in Manchester.

“Estou exausta…”

You pulled your eyes from the endless clouds to see your right hand, Aki, draped limply over the last of your boxes.

“Careful.” You bent to rip open the tape sealing the one near your feet.

“Oh, sorry.” She blew her overgrown bangs up to no avail. “Am I crushing your precious CB2 ceramics?”

“Actually, you’re slowly sinking onto my very sharp surgical steel kitchen knives.” The box cutter in your hand gestured vaguely to the label beneath her hips.

Aki’s yelp echoed off through the empty loft as she sprang from the impending mockup of a medieval torture method. Your laughter joined in when she grimaced and muttered something threatening to the thick cardboard that remained dent free.

“Thanks for helping me with all this.” You exhaled. “I owe you.”

“We’re even when you think about it.” She fetched a box opener of her own.

Your eyes widened. There was never a moment in your lifelong friendship when she didn’t take up on an IOU card. Not even when she purposefully served a suspension for knocking the lights out of a girl who blew gum into your hair in the fifth grade.

“I mean, you brought me along with you to open Bana. Full executive package, no less.” Aki beamed and then sneered upon unboxing her newfound arch nemeses.

That was true. Since she was the company’s Head of Finance, her immigration to Manchester was completed covered. Housing located right across the hallway, a brand new car of choice and an increase in salary to accommodate for the higher price of living wasn't the worst package to receive.

It didn’t feel like much of a repayment for her efforts when all things were considered. Bana wouldn’t be close to what it was today if it wasn’t for her. Any business was only as successful as how well they manage their finances, an aspect that she can solely and proudly take credit for.

Not to mention that you both would be extremely busy while trying to fully establish this new branch. If anything, she at least deserved the building’s penthouse suite for the headaches bound to come throughout this journey.

“So…is that a pass on the 1982 Bruno Giacosa?” You dangled the proverbial carrot.

Aki didn’t miss a beat, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Getting ready for your first day at the office never felt this good.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that your first ever job was, understandably, anxiety inducing. Being an intern for a well-known marketing firm wasn’t known to be a glamorous position - the multitude of reasons for that not stopping at being a coffee gopher.

After climbing the ladder to a mid-level position within your previous company, it became painfully obvious that the older leaders had no intention of making room for you soon. To eradicate any dreams of that from your mind, they even outright said it.

That led to your next go at a first day, the start of your own consultancy which would then go on to become Bana. Even though you had established your presence in the marketing world and had a few loyal clients, no amount of seminars you’d attended or books you’d read could’ve prepared you for the monster of a task you’d taken on.

This time felt different. There was always going to be an element of nervousness when stepping into a new venture. Even though this was a new branch on a tree you knew well, there was a lot to learn about operating in a new country and little time to do so.

What you had now, however, allowed you to convert that nervous energy into excitement. Experience, establishment and esteem. Those things among the equally as important trustworthy team behind you left you more confident than anything else that this could potentially only be the beginning.

“There better be a good reason why you’ve got me out early on a morning like this.” Aki’s poor facial muscles have yet to relax since the move it seemed. This time their scrunch was due to storm clouds looming in the distance.

“I think our very lovely AD has something exciting to share.” You nodded to give her the go ahead.

“Ladies, as you know I’ve been working on getting us an in with a certain business through my various sources and I’m happy to report that Bana was among the firms selected to pitch.” Cindy could barely contain her excitement.

Her optimism was infectious and part of the reason you recruited her. Another reason for bringing her into the fold to establish the new office was the insane network she had.

The blonde Londoner was in a similar predicament to you when you were starting out not long aog. Even hungrier, if you admitted it. Her former employer didn’t see the potential she clearly possessed, so you had no problem poaching her from them.

“And do we finally get to know the name of this state secret level business?” Aki leaned forward.

“Nike!” Cindy couldn't hold back any longer.

Even your face dropped at that. Not in the way that one’s expression would if they just found out that they’d been rejected from their dream school. It was something akin to finding out you’d won a fucking Oscar.

Among the celebratory cheers and shimmies, you thanked Cindy greatly for her hard work. And although it was a moment of uncontainable joy, the wheels had already began to turn in your mind.

There was absolutely no room for error if you wanted this pitch to be chosen. Being a newer firm undoubtably going up against major competition, Bana’s proposal had to be more than just that.

It had to be a statement. One that said you were not only a major player in this field, but that you also were to be seen as a direct rival.

You got to delegating tasks quickly. The sooner you got the bare bones of the pitch down, the quicker you could work on perfecting it. Aki was on budgeting as always - pricing presentation materials, researching and pricing the estimated budget for the product rollout for Nike.

Cindy was mostly on recon regarding the target audience. The product being launched was a new pair of their iconic AirMax, so you anticipated her using historical data as a guideline.

You’d have to do a fair bit of research yourself - getting into market research, the brand’s positioning and messaging - all while putting your firm’s spin on where you think Nike is hoping to go with this launch.

It was needless to say that the midnight oil would be burning. You set up a co-working space in the conference room to make communication seamless in brainstorming and building. This was the energy you missed so much, and a more sentimental reason behind your expansion.

Back home in Amadora, Bana was a well oiled machine. With a strong staff beside you, the hands on aspects of marketing were placed on the back burner by your own doing. In order for your employees to grow, you had to let them lead projects of their own and you trusted them to do so.

Now, you were back to inhaling concerning amounts of dry erase marker fumes and getting carpal tunnel from extensive mood boarding. That along with a side of meal deliveries and an equally as hard-working coffee machine made the long hours seemingly fly by.

“I’m so tapped, I need to power down for the day.” Aki stretched her back dramatically.

“Feel free to head out too, Cindy. Get some well deserved rest.” You took a moment of your own to release tension in your neck. “I’m good here for the next few hours.”

She was visibly grateful to be given the go ahead to clock out. From past experiences, you were able to sympathize all too well. You also made a mental note to have a conversation with her regarding working hours. There was never going to be an obligation of staying behind under your watch.

Cindy and Aki neatly organized materials for their return in the morning while you made your way to your office to continue outlining. With all of the research required collected, all you had to do at this point was place the information into their allocated areas.

There were three short raps at your door before you called her in.

“Still being here wasn’t exactly what I meant by rest, Cindy.” You chuckled, not looking away from your monitors.

“I’m on my way out now! Just wanted to bring you over the client mailing list I got from my source a minute ago.” She slid a USB drive onto your desk.

Your brows raised appreciatively, “Thank you, really. I mean it when I say that your presence here is essential and invaluable.”

Cindy waved a hand, her head shaking in time.

“I’m just happy to be helpful. See you tomorrow!”

You bid her goodbye and immediately got to taking a look at the information she left behind. It would be very useful in filling in some gaps you needed to flush out ideas that would attract the goal audience for the new product.

Influencers, Performing Artists, YouTubers…Athletes.

The last of those categories was obviously a given considering the brand. It also wasn’t the first time you’d come across that group in your line of work. This time though, seeing the label suddenly formed a knot in your stomach.

You were brought back to all of the avoidance in the aftermath - everyone in your life completely air-gapping the football world from your path. They did that to protect you, a gesture you still couldn’t bring yourself to thank them for verbally.

The mouse beneath your hot palm slowly shifted as you moved the cursor to click and expand the list. That knot grew to the size of a boulder. It squeezed your insides painfully within and forced a broken little noise past your lips.

One look at the name Ruben Dias was all it took to rattle you to your core.

o passado

At the age of seven, you moved to Portugal.

There wasn’t much you missed about your hometown, or even remembered for that matter. All you knew was that you were eerily calm for a child whose entire life up until that point had been uprooted. It was possible that your serene state of mind came from your mom.

She was all you had in the world. There was virtually no relationship had with her family - the only photograph you ever had with your grandparents was at your christening.

When it came to your dad, she put it as kindly as she could for a kid. You were smart enough to read the inference in her tone and the look on her face in the handful of moments he was brought up. He wasn’t in your life because he didn’t want to be.

Yet still, none of that made you sad or shaped you into a person defined by traumas. You intended to live the life that your mother encouraged you to. Be a kid, climb trees and get dirty, make friends along the way.

And that was just what you did. The first of them being the girl in your class that waved you over to the empty seat beside hers when you transferred. My name’s Akenna, but I hate it so I make everyone call me Aki instead.

She was the only person other than your mom who made you feel safe enough to confide in, just as easy to talk to as it was to listen to her wild recounts of her own life story.

Aki quickly became a regular in your home and you in hers. The giggles and secrets held in the various forts sprawling from your living room to bedroom would stay under lock and key until long after you both passed.

The next person you met would be the one who arguably shaped you the most. Loud shouts and tussling with a ball in the neighborhood park with his siblings was where you met Ruben. His tattered football rolled to your feet that touched the ground after you’d leapt from the swings.

With a weak kick, you returned it. Ruben shook his head in disapproval before he shot it right back at you. Try that again, with the left this time. You didn’t know if it was anger at being challenged by some random kid or genuine hidden talent, but when you hit the ball with your instep, it flew powerfully and directly into his own.

She’s on my team!

Inseparable wasn’t a strong enough word to describe you two. After finding out that you lived only one house down, he would come to your school to walk with you back home. On many of those occasions, Aki was there too. Your mom would be waiting with snacks and a warning, don’t play too long out in the sun, patifes.

Somewhere and somehow along the years, you and Ruben had become so close that it seemed you two were dating. Ivan jokingly asked one day as you were sharing a vanilla ice cream cone, ew, are you boyfriend and girlfriend? Ruben grabbed your hand, laced your fingers with his, and simply said, yes.

And that was that.

As for when you began to realize you loved him, that was harder to pinpoint. Maybe it came once you began to notice how helpful he was to you and your mom.

Ruben was always willing to lend a hand with repairs around your house, even if it meant searching up how-to videos when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Or how he’d go out of his way to walk your mom home when she worked night shifts.

Aki often griped and rolled her eyes at how you two were making her feel like a third wheel. Those complaints were always quickly followed with rebuttals that she’d spent a grand total of fifteen days as a single girl since she was thirteen.

Just make sure my maid of honor dress isn’t fugly at your wedding.

It was all but a given that marriage was pending in the future for you two. Ruben never had eyes for any other girl and you…God, you were terribly devoted to him. Even your posters of Justin Bieber found themselves catching dust in the closet, replaced by a collage of photos you and Ruben had taken together over time.

Five years saw graduations, proms, college acceptances and many, many firsts experienced together. His arms were the only man’s you’d ever laughed in, cried in, slept in. His eyes were the only one’s you saw when you closed your own. His lips were the only thing you wanted to taste on the good and bad days, and everything in between.

So, what happened on September 15th 2017?

To this day, you still had no answers to the why behind that question. Nor could you allow yourself to wrack your brain for them any longer should you want to hold onto your sanity.

As for what. Simply put, it was the worst day of your entire life to date.

On the eve of his debut for Benfica’s first team, an event he’d dreamt of and worked so hard for, one that become just as significant to you by extension, Ruben broke up with you. Over the phone, no less - which added humiliation onto a violent erupting volcano of destructive emotions.

Cold turkey, brutal, cruel. It’s over, don’t contact me, I don’t love you anymore.

There were no warning signs, no moments in retrospect left unturned during your spiral, that could’ve possibly made what you read true. You initially thought it was some sick joke. Maybe one of his teammates had taken his phone. Or perhaps there was some girl that wanted him and was jealous that he was yours, so she decided to play dirty.

It was none of that or the million other scenarios you came up with on you walk over to his home. You came to learn that it was, in fact, not a joke. Ruben meant it when he said he was done with you.

He made that painfully clear as he looked at you standing under the faint glow of the lantern on his front porch through the window. Those eyes you once dreamt of fondly seemingly someone else’s as he drew the curtain and shut off the light.

You don’t recall much of time that passed in the months following that night. Every now and then you’d get flashes - Aki crawling in and out of the bed you temporarily became one with, your mom scooping you up to help you bathe and wash your hair.

It was better that way, you think. A blessing in disguise to not be able to clearly recall the most devastating period of your existence.

When your memory resumed, it always picked up at the same place. You siting with Aki on the steps of an abandoned subway station in total silence.

In your mind, you were there with him years ago when the line was still functioning. The rush of the train brought wind along that rose your hair like lightning was about to strike. Ruben grinned toothily as he smoothed it back, tilting your face upwards.

He said I’d always be home when I was with him. Where am I supposed to go now?

The silence returned even louder following the question that neither of you had the answer to.

Instead, you sat there in it with your best friend and shed the last tears you ever would over Ruben Dias.

o presente

Seven years was a long time.

It came with two college degrees, laser focus and an ability to compartmentalize so strongly that it would terrify artificial intelligence.

Whatever threatened to upend you at the sight of his name was snatched up and contained to be dealt with sometime in the future. You didn’t put literal blood, sweat and tears into your career to let one old wound derail it at such a pivotal moment.

With the same vigor you scrapped up to move on with your life, you poured every ounce of energy you had into absolutely nailing your pitch. Five all nighters, thirty six edits and ten complete run throughs later resulted in Bana being chosen as the firm to brand the newest AirMax.

“I always knew you were a genius, but this project was just,” Aki kissed the air as she took the next left to drive back to your shared building.

“Team effort, Aks.” You mumbled.

The thing about throwing yourself entirely into one project was that when the hard work was done, all the was left was the shit you were avoiding. You could feel it there, gnawing at the back of your head like a mice on a fresh piece of cheese.

“What if we watched an old coming of age movie like we used to on nights like this? Pop out some wine, get in our pj’s…real wild stuff.” She nudged your elbow with hers.

You casted a fond glance at her. Aki would never come outright and say it, but it was her way of checking in with you. The client mailing list was no secret to her since she needed it for the budgeting, so there was no way she missed him being on there.

The mice grew hungrier. Throughout all of your breakdowns and pain, she held all of hers in unselfishly and arguably stupidly. You weren’t the only one who lost someone important to you on that night.

“We do that after product launches. The deal has only just been sealed.” A smile was managed to form on your end.

“Ah…best not jinx it then, huh?” Aki blew a raspberry.

In order to keep her worries at bay this time, something you silently promised to do ever since your senses had returned, you squeezed her arm and doubled down.

“Besides, I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in nearly three weeks. I think I’ll just go for a short run, take a shower and hibernate.”

She nodded, liking the sound of that plan. You would’ve felt proud of your disarming skills had you not known the real reason for her shoulders relaxing. She was looking forward to having the next two days off more than anyone else.

“Don’t forget to text me when you get back.” Aki stuck out her pinky.

“Always.” You locked yours in tight.

The repetitive beat of your feet meeting the ground had the ability to still your mind nearly as much as pouring yourself into your work did. Left, right, left, right, left. When you added in the accompanying swing of your arms, the constant reminder to keep your breath in control and music that made you feel like you could punch a hole through a wall - you were nothing short of a machine.

It was one of the healthier coping mechanism you’d clung to back home. Every day, you’d take to the streets of the new neighborhood you moved to and then to the track at you university.

You’d gotten so good at it that you were scouted to run for the school’s team. Going pro was never a part of your plan, though. You only accepted the offer because it came with a free ride.

A drop of water hit your face, but it was cold.

Your treads slowed a bit as your eyes turned skyward. The clouds illuminated against a murky purplish background with the warning of distant lightning approaching. You refocused and pumped your legs faster. Fucking Manchester.

In between your songs transitioning, you heard a faint rumble. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the sound distorted by the headphones muffling your ears playing tricks that twisted the noise to sound partially human.

Whether it was or not, you weren’t trying to stick around to find out. It was late at night and the weather was going to get hellish soon.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted a shadow ripping behind the streetlights - closing in on yours with each meter. Lactic acid built painfully in your muscles as you pushed even harder, breath control thrown to the wind.

It was gaining on you while rain began to fully fall.

Within a matter of seconds, which is all you had, you came to a decision. You were too exhausted from sleep deprivation and being nearly an hour into your run to beat whoever was chasing after you. The only option you had now was to steel your nerves and use the keys in your pocket as a last line of defense.

Your right hand blindly reached down and was met with lint. Terror hadn’t been felt until that very moment. A thousand and one scenarios raced through your mind with you reaching for the ones that would allow you to leave this situation at least narrowly unscathed.

The one you got a firm grip on using the element of surprise to hopefully distract them from whatever intentions they had for an instant. You took one last deep breath before spinning around swiftly and throwing out a fist.

A man in a baseball cap dodged the punch to his credit, albeit not very ideal for you. His balance, however, was in your favor. He slipped on the slick sidewalk and landed flat on his back with a pained groan.

You were the last thing you should’ve been given that you’d been granted an escape - frozen. On your behalf, you would’ve been halfway down the street and barreling towards your building had it not been for the wide eyes staring up at you.

Those eyes…Ruben’s.

[m00nc4kes]

Molotov. (Sneak Peek)

Hobie Brown x Black!Punk!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Stealing, racism (you get followed in a store), author is not british

A/N: Pssssttt… i have a little excerpt from a fic i’ve been working on and planning out with my bestie 🫣 I’ve proofread the best i could but there could still be some mistakes! I hope you enjoy <3 This is Hobie and the reader’s meet cute!!

—————————————————————————

You hated everything about this store. Maybe you would’ve liked it if the previous owners weren’t forced to hand the place over to the bank because of bankruptcy. The old store had a sense of home and community, opening its arms for every and any type of person who entered its doors. But this— this was ridiculous.

Practically every surface was reflective while the expensive ass price tags taunted your empty pockets. Everything about this place was uninviting. Just like the greeter who refused to acknowledge your presence.

You walked past the greeter and seethed, “Hello to you too.”

His face soured and it was exactly the reason why you wouldn’t feel bad about taking what you needed.

There weren't many people who looked like you here, despite this place being smackdab in the middle of your area. Large ads with white-filled propaganda filled your vision as you walked past different aisles. Each one peered at you with uncaring eyes as they preached a message for a world that didn't involve you in it. The memo that 'you don't belong here' threatened to overwhelm your mind. The stares from the white employees and the white patrons drilled holes into the back of your head.

You were always told to stand strong even when you had to stand alone, but no one warned you of how hard it would be. You could feel your face burn and your hands grow damp under the fabric of your gloves.

The next thing you knew, your lead-filled legs turned you into a random aisle. You released a heavy breath and tried to will your heart to slow down. Gracefully raising your gaze from the floor, you were met with one other person and surrounded by different candies. Though, you were completely taken aback at the sight of the person in the aisle.

He was tall— like, really tall and his wicks only added to his height. They were thick and long, well taken care of too. It made you wonder how long he'd had them— your eyes trailed down to the sticker covered guitar that hung from a thick strap from across his shoulder. It seemed well loved, although it appeared it could use some new strings and a few pegs to get it into peak shape— you were sure you had a few pegs at home— No. No. No, you were not going to go down that hole—

The guy suddenly turned his head to look over his shoulder at you and you were met with an electric pair of amber eyes. The appraisal he gave you made you stand up straight as the two of you came to the same realization. He gave you an acknowledging nod and you gave him one in return. It was enough to set you back on your tracks and make your steps lighter as you eagerly searched for you and Riri's favorite candies.

You weren't alone. You weren't the only black punk going through this oppressive world.

You plucked a bag of candy you hadn't heard of before while mentally racking your list of things to grab. Behind you, there were a pair of footsteps that passed you until they stopped beside you. You craned your neck to look up at the guy from before, opening your mouth to ask him what he needed before he interrupted you by jutting out his chin in the direction of the end of the aisle. You moved your gaze to follow where he was gesturing and immediately understood.

An older white employee was restocking a shelf and not-so-inconspicuously watching you two from the corner of her eye. She had turned to fixing the same item on the shelf to keep an eye on you.

Then, you were introduced to a strong British accent as the guy beside you leaned in close to your ear. "Wouldn't recommend takin' anythin' just yet." His voice was low as it rumbled from his chest.

You looked back at him and gave him another once over. He had strong features accentuated by his piercings and adorned studded accessories on his neck, arm, and wrist. But his vest was a sight to behold— "Me? Stealin'? I would never." You feigned innocence. He let out an amused chuckle, letting you know he didn't believe a word you said. You watched as his eyes flicked down to your hands that were still clutching the candy bag. His brows raised in interest.

"Those say 'fuck off', mate?"

It took you a few seconds to realize he was talking about your gloves. You subconsciously ran a hand over the stitching, before a small grin spread across your lips. "Damn right they do. Gotta make sure these pigs know exactly what I mean." You took a split second to do a sweep over his lanky form; from the top of his wicks to the bottom of his blue-laced boots. You tilted your head. “Seems like you showed them pigs who’s boss,” you said, motioning towards his boots.

“Damn right.” He mocked your previous phrasing with a smug grin before looking over your shoulder to the lady who was observing you. “I have a proposition for ya, wanna hear it?”

You shrugged. “Depends on what it is.” You couldn’t exactly do what you had intended on doing, but that didn’t mean you would be down to do anything, especially if the proposition came from a complete stranger.

A mischievous glint entered the man’s eyes and his voice took a conspiratory turn. “Between you ‘n me, who do you think Peepin’ Tammy is more likely to follow?” His eyes lingered over the spot where your eyes were and you could feel the intensity of it even while hiding behind your hair.

You sighed. “Most likely, you.” At the end of the day, you both were black but he was extremely tall and you had forgone your spiked accessories, something he definitely didn’t do. If it came down to you or him, you weren’t even an option.

He gave you a pleased grin and pointed a finger at you. “Exactly. So I’ll get her off your ass while you handle your business, ya get me?” he offered. “All I ask is you get me this, yeah?” He held up a bag of off-brand candy.

Your agreement fell from your lips easily as you grabbed the bag from his hands. “Deal.” A thrilled laugh left you as you imagined taking advantage of the woman following you two. “Get her ass,” you whispered encouragement as you danced around him to go the opposite direction.

His two finger salute to you was the last thing you saw before kleptomania flooded your veins.

Now, you knew how this looked. You were doing exactly what the woman had expected of you— stealing what you could fit into your bag. Food that you would never be able to afford on this side of town and tv dinners were snatched from shelves and freezers. It didn’t bring joy to you (a solid half-truth) to do things that were expected of people who looked like you, but you adapted and overcame.

You did things that needed to be done, even if it came at the expense of your reputation.

Ha, like you gave a shit.

With a full bag and a half-light heart, you navigated the store to find your partner in crime. It was easy enough, you ended up locating him in an aisle filled with propaganda-filled magazines. He had one in his hands that had Spider-Punk on the cover and he read it with obvious distaste.

Near him, Peepin’ Tammy was fixing a stack of books that didn’t need fixing.

As if sensing you, he lifted his gaze and gave you a questioning thumbs up. You returned the gesture with a confirming nod and a thumbs up. You looked at the magazine in his hands.

“You don’t like him or somethin’?” you asked. He gave you a noncommittal hum before tossing the magazine back into the display, much to Tammy’s chagrin.

“Jus’ don’t like what they’re sayin’ about him is all.” He blew air out of his mouth. “They couldn’t have picked a different label, hm? Damn PM calls him a ‘spider punk’ once and that’s his entire character? Come out of it.”

His passion for the name surprised you. You picked up the magazine and observed the blurry photo of Spider-Punk on the cover. “Yeah, I mean, he’s a spider dude and he’s punk. It fits. And he’s also fucking Ozzy over, y’know, in a ‘hah this spider punk is kicking your ass and inspiring others to fight back’ way. Taking the name and slapping the old man with it.”

Your partner-in-crime looked you over before giving you a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

You grinned at him, tossing the magazine over your shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

The mischievous glint from before returned to his eyes. “Then what’re we waitin’ for?”

With a sudden resolve, the two of you turned to face Tammy, who startled at the sight of your guy’s undivided attention. You locked eyes with your partner then looked back at Tammy.

Then, the two of you spun on your heels and ran out of the store.

[cifer-ulqui]

Chapter 1: Heartless Naïf

TW: Minor Violence Word Count: ~2400

Masterlist / Chapter 2: Tithes / Ao3 Link

Ulquiorra Cifer has died hundreds of times. Every mouthful brought new memories, new anguish from his victims, new pieces of his being. He is an amalgamation of all the souls he consumed. After all of his experiences, he thought it was over.

That monster struck the killing blow. He held his palm outstretched to the woman, saying something that would hold meaning in his death. Her outstretched hand, reaching for him; her heart. His life came to its inevitable end. He reached back, hoping to find what she wanted him to see. She never reached him, but his hand is warm.

 That last thought brings about new information. The rest of him is cold, and he’s laying on hard stone.

  He is dead. He must be. His organs were crushed. He disintegrated. It’s impossible for him to be alive. Unless this is Hell. It makes sense. He’s here to atone for all the agony he caused. This is fine. He can simply lay here until something consumes him. His reason for fighting is over. He vaguely wonders what happened after the battle. Did Kurosaki win against Lord Aizen? He thought it was a ridiculous notion, but Kurosaki’s power only increased during their battle.

None of it matters anyway. Nothing does.

He waits for some time, he isn’t sure how long, before he hears whispers. Something is coming to absorb his power. Why would Hell be any different from Hueco Mundo?

“Is he awake yet?” A voice grows louder. Masculine and hearty, a few feet away. “Lucifer, go shake him.”

A sigh replies. “Barbatos said he should awaken naturally, or we could startle him.” This voice is smoother, darker. At least two men. That’s fine. Either he will be able to defend himself, or they will consume him. Should he even bother fighting?

Yes, the only logical explanation is this is Hell.

He flinches.

“Oh, he’s awake!” A more feminine voice is way too close. It’s clear this is the one who touched his cheek.

“Asmodeus.” 

“Eek! I was just curious.”

Ulquiorra opens his eyes, glaring at the one who touched him. He gets a smile back, one with white teeth shown from pink lips. “Hello, darling! My, what a lovely glare you have. Did I wake you?” He’s crouched down next to where Ulquiorra lays. “Of course, waking up to someone as lovely as I--”

It only takes a second.

There’s a clack of teeth and a squeal as Ulquiorra’s palm bashes against the man’s chin, elbow coming back down to smash his nose. Ulquiorra darts to his feet, moving behind him to turn and look at the others as the man who touched him hunches over, grabbing his face.

It takes a moment for him to be able to see in the light. His eyes should be used to the darkness, and adjust easily. What is happening? Has he been drugged? No, he can still think clearly.

There are five men in the room, including the one Ulquiorra injured. Two close, two others sitting at a table further away. If they go down as easy as the first, he should be able to kill them, even without his zanpakuto. He shakes out his wrist, a stinging sensation shooting up the tendon. That’s not right. He shouldn’t be injured so easily. It’s no matter, there is no choice if he wants to survive. The rules of Hell must simply be different.

Except.

None of them move.

A redheaded man, not as tall as Yammy but considerable, laughs in a boisterous voice. He stands in the middle of the room near Ulquiorra. “Ah, Asmodeus, are you alright? That looked painful.”

“Ignore my brother,” the black-haired man beside him sighs, crossing his arms. “It’s his fault for getting so close. Though--,” red eyes fix on Ulquiorra. It makes him want to bare his fangs; those eyes pin him like a moth. “--it seems this one is quite different from Solomon.”

A resonant growl echoes in the chamber, demanding Ulquiorra’s attention, and that’s when Asmodeus’s appearance changes. Horns sprout from strawberry blond hair, wings unfurl, fangs and claws bare themselves. “How dare you hit me! And on my perfect face!”

They’re not hollows. There are no masks or holes. No zanpakuto. This immense pressure he’s letting out is similar to spiritual pressure, but has a different touch on one’s skin. Black and pink energy crackle through the air. This must be his resurreccion. 

“Asmodeus.”

A more frustrated growl answers Lucifer’s warning, before Asmodeus rises. Ulquiorra tenses, tracking each movement, but Asmodeus walks past him up the stairs to the table where two others sit, his face sifting between glaring and ignoring him. His face is red, but not bleeding. Why did the others stop Asmodeus from killing him?

The foremost man is still smiling. His hair is nearly as red as his jacket, and his skin is a tan color. The leader must either be him or the man next to him with red eyes and black hair. “What an eventful beginning already.” He clears his throat. “Welcome to the Devildom! You're Ulquiorra Cifer, right?”

“Why am I here?”

“Right to the point, how refreshing! It’s understandable that you have questions, as you’ve only arrived. As a human, it’ll take some time to get used to things here in the Devildom.”

As a human. Me? What notion is this? He presses his lips together, but remains silent.

“... I suppose I should start with introducing myself.” The silence gives way to a rather long-winded introduction of this demon prince, Lord Diavolo. Devildom? He’s never heard of such a place. Is it akin to Hell? And a prince? From one lord to another. He thought he would be spared from bureaucracy in death. Demons… how are they different from hollows?

 His question remains unanswered.

 The black haired man beside the prince seems to sense Ulquiorra’s disgruntlement and says, “I will explain everything to you in due time.”

 Diavolo introduces the man next. Lucifer. His face is polite but not kind. Avatar of Pride. Ulquiorra glosses over this information, but stores it for later. Lucifer greets him, the words sounding practiced and empty. The cold quality is a familiarity Ulquiorra appreciates.

 He looks expectantly at Ulquiorra for an answer he cannot fathom. “Answer my question.”

 The smile in reply bares no teeth, but is clearly a threat. “You’re rather straightforward.” Lucifer talks about realms and humans and angels. An exchange program. All words, certainly, but Ulquiorra’s limited context leaves some room for interpretation.

 “And you’re our newest exchange student,” Lucifer finishes, with Ulquiorra none the wiser as to what his purpose here is. They intend no threat to him? A mistake. And, referring to him as a human? Ridiculous nonsense. He should kill this trash for the insult.

 And this Lucifer reminds him of Aizen in all the wrong ways. “Why should I participate in any of this?” He’d like to refute being human, but what happens if he reveals their error? He could become expendable. He should bide his time. The physical evidence of him being a hollow must be hidden somehow.

 “It has already been decided, there is no other option for you.” Lucifer rolls his eyes. He begins to talk about his brother, Mammon, who will supposedly watch over Ulquiorra. The thought of Ulquiorra needing protection or guidance is preposterous. The mention of the man furrows Lucifer’s eyebrows, clearly annoyed.

“Here, take this device. It’s called a DDD.” Lucifer hands Ulquiorra something. It’s a small rectangle that fits in his hand, which lights up. “It’s yours to use for the rest of your stay here. Now, go ahead and try calling Mammon with it.” The symbols on the face of the screen are unhelpful to Ulquiorra, and Lucifer points to the buttons, a disappointed look on his face. How would Ulquiorra know what symbols these supposed demons use?

Otherwise, it seems close to any other screen Szayelaporro or the shinigami can create.

An odd incessant noise fills the space, like the buzzing of insect wings, coming from this DDD, before it stops and a masculine voice begins to speak. Mammon, presumably. Lucifer guides the DDD up close to Ulquiorra’s ear.

“Yoooo,” the voice draws out. Ulquiorra doesn’t grace this with a response. A second passes before the voice questions, “Uh, hello?”

“Mammon, I assume.”

“Huh? Who the hell are you? You ain’t Lucifer.”

“I am Ulquiorra Cifer. Lucifer tasked me with calling you.”

“Ul.. what? Whatever, geez! I was getting all chilly thinking it was Lucifer again. You should have told me earlier. Anyway, what business do you have with me?”

“I’m told you’ll be looking after me during my stay here.” As much as he loathes the idea.

“Huh? You must be that human exchange student. No way! There’s nothing in it for me. G’luck with that, and see ya.”

Ulquiorra slides his gaze to Lucifer’s. “You refuse?”

Lucifer takes the DDD, and this smile is undoubtedly cruel. “Mammon. You’ve got ten seconds. Nine. Eight.” He hands it back before the rest of the countdown. The screen is black now, and no sounds come from it. “Seems you two had a nice chat.”

“I would not say that.” When he lowers his arm, he notices something he should have noticed far sooner. He’s not wearing his clothes given to him by Lord Aizen. These are western-style clothes, a white shirt with long sleeves and soft black pants. His other clothes were destroyed, that’s right. Who dressed him? How long was he asleep? Where is his zanpakuto?

A snicker draws his attention to the three other men sitting at the table. The one to laugh is a golden blond. “That’s Mammon for you.”

“Don’t worry too much,” The prince pipes up in Ulquiorra’s unnecessary defense. “Mammon’s not the only one to help you out. Now’s a good time to introduce the rest of your brothers, Lucifer. It’s probably best if you do it, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes… As much as I dread the idea,” Lucifer grumbles. He seems to be perpetually annoyed. Perhaps that makes him more bearable than Aizen’s smug grin.

The other three are introduced. Asmodeus, the one who woke him, is still holding his face. Satan, the one who laughed, is blond and wears a polite but serious expression. Beelzebub, who is upset he cannot eat, sports bright orange hair and is the second tallest besides Diavolo. None of them have surnames, which is strange, but Ulquiorra doesn’t question it.

It’s when Satan is introduced that something familiar piques Ulquiorra’s senses. The pressure in the room increases with Satan’s anger when he scowls at Lucifer. Lime green and black energy crackles in the air around him, stronger than Asmodeus’s but fleeting. The moment dissipates far too quickly for him to gauge the full extent of the power.

Lucifer speaks a little more about his brothers, things Ulquiorra files away as less important, before Diavolo begins again.

“You’ll be staying with Lucifer and his brothers in the House of Lamentation for the duration of your stay, to keep you safe.”

“Keep me safe,” Ulquiorra tilts his head. “From what?”

“Most demons agree with Lord Diavolo, but there are still demons intent on harming humans. It’s our responsibility if anything were to happen to you.” Lucifer goes on to explain the DDD once more, and how all of their contacts are in it. The prince sends a message, which Ulquiorra accesses without much trouble. It’s a small bubble icon, and there's a list of names in kanji and what seems to be their latin spelling, something close enough for him to understand.

Once Mammon arrives, he once again calls him a human. It’s a disturbing notion. It’s growing tiresome.

Does he look human? He can tell there is no mask on his face, but--

There’s no space. He feigns rubbing his chest, over where his hollow hole should be, only to find skin and bone where there should be nothing.

For the time being, he will pretend to be a human. Even if he despises it.

Mammon is still loud. Useless trash. Threatening to eat Ulquiorra. The thought is ridiculous. Lucifer punches him near the diaphragm, akin to when Ulquiorra reprimanded Yammy, but with far less malice. Or blood.

They reiterate much of what they’ve already said, with details about Mammon that don’t seem relevant, putting Ulquiorra’s assimilation into the demon’s hands.

“Good fucking luck,” Asmodeus seethes. “Brute.” Trash.

Mammon complains. Ulquiorra doesn’t listen, until Lucifer begins to threaten Mammon, the pressure in the room rising once more. His reiatsu is a dark blue, but clearly only a threat; it’s crushing, but not fully released. It succinctly defeats Mammon’s objections.

“--Ya better not cause me any trouble, got it?” Mammon is addressing him now.

Ulquiorra fixes him with cold eyes.

“Hah? You listening? Seriously, is there something wrong with this one?”

Lucifer ignores him, and Ulquiorra decides to as well. “On to the next subject: your tasks. Your task is to polish up your soul nicely and to acquire the power to resist demons. You have one semester here, so try to keep up.”

Polish his soul? Resist demons? “What does this mean?” And what’s a semester?

“Demons like humans with nice souls. Let me put it this way. Nice souls shine like jewels. Do you understand now?”

The certainty and smugness Lucifer displays is clear. Ulquiorra doesn’t answer. Him, have a nice soul? “Nice” has never been used to describe him, or anything less than cold and cruel.

“You could say it’s an experiment of who will win-- either humans will be tempted by demons, or demons will lose against the shiny and noble soul of a human and make a run for it.”

Shiny. Noble.

“What happens if I lose?” Will he be consumed? His soul is a collective of all the hollows he consumed, and he has their memories. Death is not something he fears.

“There’s no penalty set. Would you like me to think of one?” His tone grows teasing, but Ulquiorra is no soft human who will cede these sentiments. “There, there, don’t give me that look.” He goes on to explain the tasks.

“Ready?”

This work is the result of a year's time and effort, and it is my first successful long-form work. Thank you to everyone who helped make it possible, and to my readers.

Interested in beta reading other chapters? Comment or contact me through Discord, ulquiavnas

Masterlist / Chapter 2: Tithes

Happy birthday, Ulquiorra!!!! 💚

[the-starry-seas]

Fanovember Day 1

Prompt: Romance

Star Wars, Gregor/Comet

Check out this post to request a prompt!

Comet’s been staring at a shelf of vaguely-identical paperbacks for what feels like far too long when a crash startles him. 

Someone swears softly in the next aisle. From where the sound came from, now that he thinks about it. He tries peeking through the shelves, sees absolutely nothing but more books, and walks around the end of the shelf to get a better look. 

There’s a man kneeling on the ground, scooping up books to put them back into a cardboard box. A matched set of hardbacks that look kind of heavy. 

“Do you want help?” Comet asks. 

The man looks up suddenly, like he hadn’t realised Comet was there. Comet tries not to feel awkward about it – oh no, he’s hot – and gives him a little wave. 

“Hey, you good?” someone calls. A different man stops with a cart, only continuing on when the kneeling man waves him off. 

Comet crouches down and picks up two of the books, holding them out. 

“Thanks,” the stranger says, staring down at the books in his hand for a moment before looking up at the person who handed them over. “I dropped the box.” 

“I heard,” is all Comet can think to say, and then feels bad about it when his words result in an embarrassed look. “It’s okay, I drop things all the time. Do you work here?” 

“My brother Cody runs the store.” The last of the books are set back in the box, and the stranger picks it up. “I’m–” 

There’s another crash as the bottom of the box falls out, and Comet can only stare at the small mountain of paper between them. 

“Oh,” he says, vaguely puzzled at how that happened. “I think – maybe we should just carry them to wherever they go, without the box?” 

“Yeah,” the stranger says, and sighs. 

It’s so ridiculous that Comet can’t help laughing about it. He’s a little charmed at how the stranger laughs with him. 

“You were going to say something,” Comet mentions as he bends over to pick up a few books. 

“Oh. My name’s Gregor.” 

“I’m Comet, nice to meet you. Where do these go?” 

Right where they’re standing, as it turns out. Comet holds the bigger part of the stack, trying not to blush about how gentle Gregor’s hands look as he shelves the books one by one. 

“Oh, that one’s mine,” he interrupts when Gregor turns over the paperback near the bottom of the pile. “Maybe.” 

“You’re not sure?” 

“The main guy kind of seemed like a dick when I was browsing the first chapter.” 

And it’s something he wouldn’t have minded, until recently, but it turned out that a bad relationship affected the way he viewed a lot of things. 

Gregor hums under his breath as he picks up the next-to-last hardcover, and Comet wonders if that was a strange thing to say. He doesn’t have to worry about being strange, with his pack. Other people can be a lot more judgmental. 

“I think I know something else that you might like better,” Gregor mentions. “It’s just down there.” 

Comet follows him, unable to stop from staring at the way his back moves under his shirt. Especially when he reaches up to get a book off the top shelf. Wow. 

His gaze drops to a revealed sliver of Gregor’s stomach, then away. 

Definitely weird if you try to hook up with the guy you met for two minutes at the bookstore. Isn’t it? 

“Don’t mind the cover,” Gregor says as he hands it over. 

Which is reasonable. It’s a poorly photoshopped hugging couple in medieval dress, apparently floating on a Barbie-pink background, and despite everything he’s heard about not judging a book by its cover… he would have. Very much so. 

“What’s it about?” he asks, because he’s trying very hard to take it seriously, and Gregor seems to have some good experience with it. 

“A princess who magically hides her identity to find true love. The guy on the cover is a woodcutter and the only one who respects her when she pretends to be a peasant. She feels bad about not being up front about trying to court him, when she finds out that he already loves someone, but then she finds out that the person he loves is the princess.” 

Okay, a little tropey… but he has to admit, he’s a sucker for books about pining. And he’s pretty sure Sinker will get a kick out of it, if nothing else. 

“Thank you,” he says. From a brief glance through the first few pages, it does seem to be written well. And maybe the princess’s curly hair and brown eyes reminds him of himself, a little, and he wouldn’t really mind being the princess to Gregor’s woodcutter for a couple nights… “I guess I should be up front about what I want, too.” 

“Oh?” Gregor looks a little hesitant, then, Comet looks up at him. 

“I’d like to go out with you, if you’re looking for someone.” 

He definitely looks surprised by that, but Comet can’t really blame him. It’s not the kind of thing that really happens, outside of the romcoms that Sinker will binge and cry over for an entire weekend. But he can’t shake the idea that whatever happens with Gregor might be something really nice. 

“I was going to get a coffee when I was done with that box,” Gregor mentions. “You can – come with me?” 

He looks like he’s not quite sure that Comet would want to. For some reason, that kind of breaks Comet’s heart. 

“I think I need to pay for my book first.” 

“You can have it,” yells the other guy from before as he passes the aisle, “if you go on a second date.” 

“Cody,” Gregor hisses at him, evidently appalled by this. He turns back to Comet with a look so apologetic that it’s a little adorable. “He’s my brother. He’s awful.” 

“I have a big family with two very opinionated brothers,” Comet says with a smile. “He doesn’t bother me at all. Do you like Middle Eastern food? There’s a new restaurant a few blocks from my place. For our second date.” 

Gregor blinks at him. 

“Shouldn’t we finish coffee first?” 

“I think I’ve got a good feeling about this.” 

Gregor opens the door for him as they leave, and offers him an arm to lean on as they go down the steps, and Comet thinks that he might just have found his Prince Charming. 

[francesminos-tt]

Since ao3 is down, here is more oneshot I wrote per curiouscat prompt.

1. Joffron Enemies to lovers

Joffrey was one of the realm’s best dragon riders. Daeron was one of the realm’s best swordsmen. They came from the same house, but from two fractions that were constantly at war. Even if the two fractions were at a temporary truce, Joffrey and Daeron would fight at any chance they got. They fought over whores (who they lost interest in after the fight), over lands (they were both third sons with no inheritance), over who was the better fighter (there was bet pool going on). In short, they hated each other’s guts.

“Move over.” Joffrey rudely shoved Daeron to the side, “I want to use the pot.”

“You can just say you want to take a piss.” Daeron sneered and mimicked Joffrey’s tone, “use the pot. What are you, a princess?”

“Fuck off.” Joffrey spat as he turned his back to Daeron and pulled his cock out.

“Just because you said fuck, doesn’t make you a tough man, princess.”

Daeron was the only one who called Joffrey a princess. He said it to get under Joffrey’s skin. Everyone knew Joffrey was tough as fuck, but the tease worked, every time. Joffrey would lose his shit on the battle field if Daeron called him princess in front of his men. Joffrey hated Daeron for it.

But it didn’t matter now. They were trapped in this cramped cell for days. They were both captured by their house’s common enemy. A group of pirates ambushed them when they were busy fighting each other. What a laugh. Joffrey only knew they were on a desolated island; it would be impossible to flee without their dragons. Fortunately, their dragons managed to fly off when they were overwhelmed by the enemies. Joffrey wouldn’t want Tyraxes to die with him. His uncle’s she-dragon, too. Joffrey loved Tesserion, even if he hated her rider.

To be honest, Daeron wasn’t so bad a company. His tease was the only thing that kept Joffrey sane. The hate for Daeron was like an anchor that kept Joffrey in the present. The cell was so hot that Daeron had took off his shirt on day 1. Only a pair of loose pants on him now, his pale torso covered with old scars, dirt and dried blood. Joffrey left his shirt on, another reason for Daeron to call him princess. Joffrey had trouble sleeping in his own piss with all the bugs and rats, the bags under his eyes must look ridiculous by now.

There was a commotion outside their cell. First time in days. Both Joffrey and Daeron got on their heels and were ready to fight. The pirates came and dragged them out to an arena. The stand was filled with excited people who were thirsty for blood. Joffrey saw his dragon, Tyraxes, chained to the ground, one of its wings was torn. Tesserion was also there, in better condition than Tyraxes. At least the she-dragon was still able to fly.

“Welcome to the arena, princes. I hope you can put on a good show for the audience.” A bold pirate said.

“What do you want us to do? Fight?” Joffrey looked around, but the arena was empty except for him, Daeron and their chained dragons. “With who?”

“Each other.” The man said with a cruel smile. “The winner can leave his dragon. Not a bad deal, is it?”

“Why would we believe you?” Daeron spat.

Before the man could answer, Joffrey landed a blow on Daeron’s face. Daeron was shocked for a second but he soon fought back out of instinct. He was so used to fight Joffrey that it came as second nature.

“Are you fucking mad? You believe him, princess?” Daeron said between punches.

“Of course not. I am not a fool.” Joffrey whispered back as he tackled Daeron to the ground, “listen, I will let you win. Once you get to Tesserion, fly off. I know the chains can’t stop her. And, don’t call me princess.”

“What about you?”

“My dragon can’t fly! Goddamnit. You think I will let you win if Tyx can fly?”

“I am a better fighter than you.”

“You wish.”

Daeron used his knee to hit Joffrey’s stomach. Hard. Joffrey groaned in pain and fell to the ground. Fuck. Daeron was doing this on purpose.

The audience cheered. Joffrey was still on the ground when the pirates panicked and shouted for each other to stop Tesserion. But it was too late. Joffrey could tell from the sound of wing flapping what Tesserion had successfully escaped.

Joffrey had the cell to himself now. It didn’t make him feel better. The bruises he suffered from the fight with Daeron hurt like a bitch. Some of the cuts must have been infected. Joffrey could feel the fever. He was weak, tired, nauseous but couldn’t sleep. He was slowly losing his mind. He knew it because how could he miss Daeron’s teasing smile?

Joffrey heard another commotion but this time he was too weak to get up. Joffrey thought it was the pirates again until two strong arms wrapped around his body and picked him up. Joffrey smelled a familiar scent of steel and dragon flame.

“Why are you back?” Joffrey managed to say, shocked at Daeron coming back for him. He thought Daeron would take the opportunity to let him rot in this godforsaken place. But Daeron smiled and brushed the tangled curls from his face.

“Let’s get you out of here, princess.”

2. Joffrey was being harassed. Daeron took revenge for him.

It started as an annoying colleague at work. Joffrey was a charming young man, so he was well liked by others. But there was this new guy from IT that creeped him out. Joffrey had some complications with his computer so he filed a ticket to IT. The new guy came and fixed Joffrey’s computer, but he stayed a little too long, he spoke a little too soft that Joffrey had to lean in to hear what he was saying. He squeezed Joffrey’s shoulder out of the blue before going back to his floor. Joffrey met him again at the cafe. Joffrey usually took his own lunch to work but his boyfriend Daeron had gone on a business trip so Joffrey was too lazy to make himself lunch. He depended on cafe sandwiches and pizza. The guy sat beside Joffrey as if they were good friends, while in fact they were barely acquaintances.

Joffrey’s didn’t think too much of it. Sure, the guy was creepy but that was it. Joffrey had never thought that he would get himself a stalker. The guy went to Joffrey’s office one day well after work hours, only to find Joffrey dozing off on his chair. Joffrey was awoken by a disgusting tongue on his hand. He punched the guy out of instinct, but the disturbing feeling never went away.

Joffrey went home and took the next day off. Daeron came back from the business trip early only to find Joffrey sleeping on the couch in Daeron’s sweatshirt. Daeron wanted to surprise his boyfriend so he kissed Joffrey on the lips. Joffrey was jolted awake. He swung a punch but Daeron dodged it.

“What’s wrong, joff? Bad dream?” Daeron asked worriedly as he looked at Joffrey’s scared face.

“Daeron? Why are you home? You are supposed to come back tomorrow.” Joffrey swallowed and rubbed the back of his hand unconsciously. The phantom feeling of the disgusting tongue just wouldn’t go away.

“I took an early flight.” Daeron knew Joffrey was holding something back but he didn’t push. He knew Joffrey too well. Pushing would only make him defensive.

Fortunately, Daeron didn’t need to wait long to find out the truth because he noticed Joffrey was washing his hands every 10 minutes. He didn’t confront Joff head on. He just wrapped his arms around Joffrey’s waist and hugged him from behind. He kissed the side of Joffrey’s neck. Joff was silent for quite some time before he began to talk. He told Daeron about the creepy guy and the tongue incident. Daeron listened patiently and kissed away Joffrey’s tears in the end.

“Why don’t you take a few days off?” Daeron led Joffrey to the couch and cuddled him. “I can stay with you. Like a little staycation. I can get up early to get the cinnamon roll you like. What do you say, Joffrey?”

Joffrey nodded and rested his head on Daeron’s chest. He fell asleep listening to Daeron’s steady heart beat.

When Joffrey went to work again, the receptionist looked at him as if he had grown two heads.

“Joffrey! You sneaky bastard. You never told me you had a hit man boyfriend!”

“Because I don’t? What are you talking about?” Joffrey was genuinely confused. If anything, his other uncle, Aemond, his brother Luke’s husband, was more like a hit man than his investment banker boyfriend Daeron.

“Then who’s that handsome man in suits that came to the office yesterday and beat that creepy IT half to death? He told the IT to get lost and said he had already filed a restraining order. I think the boss was too shocked to call the police.”

Yesterday? Yesterday Joffrey had woken up late, around 11am. Daeron greeted him with a kiss and a tray of donuts, all Joffrey’s favorite flavor, chocolate sprinkle. Joffrey had no idea Daeron had come to his office and avenged him. Joffrey must be smiling too hard because the receptionist rolled her eyes and muttered idiots in love under her breath.

3. Insecurity Joffrey + charming prince Daeron

Joffrey was cute kid once. He had big eyes, round nose and a childish smile that everyone loved. However, growth spur in his teen years erased every last bit of his cuteness. He was tall and muscular from all the boxing training. It was fine to ask for cuddles and kisses if you were a cute little boy, but it was an entirely different thing to ask for public affection if you were a 6’2’’ grown man.

Daeron, on the other hand, was the epitome of Prince Charming. He was handsome, polite, fun, respectful but at the same time easygoing. He was always the center of attention, especially from girls. Boys liked him too, not in the way Joffrey liked him, but they respected Daeron as their friend.

So Joffrey stopped taking his uncle Daeron’s hands. He used to do it all the time and was secretly very happy that Daeron never pushed him away. Daeron was his childhood crush that carried on to adulthood. They hang out a lot. Daeron took him to movies, theaters, theme parks, even surfing trips. Today, Joffrey was to help Daeron buy a new pair of sneakers. Daeron insisted Joffrey, as an athlete, was an expert to pick the perfect pair for him.

“…Personally I prefer petite and cute. It makes me want to hold them and never let go.”

When Joffrey arrived at their rendezvous point, he found Daeron talking to a petite girl with long wavy hair. She was petite and cute, just as Daeron described. She wore a pink flare dress and was dangerously close to Daeron. Joffrey could smell her sweet perfume meters away. Daeron kept smiling to her, and she smiled back.

This was the moment when Joffrey realized how utterly foolish he was. He hoped, oh, how he hoped that he was special to Daeron. It was just his delusion.

Joffrey didn’t have the courage or the heart to interrupt them, so he ran away. He came home early and locked himself in his bedroom. His phone kept buzzing with messages and calls from Daeron but he ignored them. Joffrey wasn’t ready to face Daeron yet.

At some point, Joffrey fell asleep(with tear stains on his face and later drool on his pillow). When he came to, it was already dark. His stomach growled loudly because he skipped lunch. Joffrey heard a chuckle.

“Overslept?” Daeron asked. Joffrey had no idea why Daeron was here and why mother had let him in.

Joffrey rubbed his face and said nothing.

“What’s wrong Joff? You never showed up and your mother said you came home early. Are you not feeling well?”

Why he had to be charming to Joffrey? Joffrey didn’t need that. He’d rather Daeron tell him the truth that Daeron never liked him, that Joffrey was just an annoying nephew who never got the hint, that Joffrey was no longer the cute boy he once was.

“Joff?”

“Go away.” Joffrey snapped. “Go to your petite and cute girlfriend and leave me alone!”

Daeron looked genuinely confused. The audacity!

“What are you taking about? I don’t have a girlfriend…god, Joff, you heard the conversation between me and Beth, didn’t you?”

“So her name is Beth. Cute name.” Cuter than Joff, apparently.

Daeron sighed and moved closer. Joffrey tired to move away from him but, damn, why did he decide to put his bed against the wall? Slowly, Daeron trapped Joffrey between him and the wall.

“We were taking about cats. You told me you wanted to have a cat when you moved out.” Daeron said. He was so close that Joffrey could feel his breath.

“Why does that have anything to do with you?” Joffrey refused to meet Daeron’s eyes, choosing to focus on Daeron’s hands, which were moving inch by inch to Joffrey’s thigh, instead.

“Because I want to live with you.” Daeron’s hands finally made their way to Joffrey’s thick thigh. “Don’t you think I should have a say in the type of pets we are going to keep?”

Now Daeron wasn’t making any sense. Why would he want to live with Joffrey?

“Why would you…” Joffrey looked up, only to find Daeron was looking at him with a fond smile. The kind of smile that was different from his usual polite one. There was no social etiquette, only affection and a hint of possessiveness.

“Silly boy. Silly Joffrey.” Daeron’s smile widened when he found Joffrey’s cheeks began to burn. “I am asking you to be my boyfriend.”

“What?” Joffrey was lost. Why? Daeron didn’t like him. Daeron liked cute and petite things. Prince Charming should like cute and petite things.

“One would think all my invitations are enough clues. Even your family knows I am asking you out all this time. When I arrived today, your mother asked me what had I done to hurt her baby boy.”

Joffrey opened his mouth to say something but never got the chance to finish his sentence because Daeron sealed their lips together into a kiss.

“I love you, Joffrey. I will repeat it ever day until you believe me and believe in yourself.”

4. Joffron soulmate au

Daeron walked in the house. The spare key was at its usual place, under a flowerpot near the front door. Neither him and Joffrey was good at gardening. They couldn’t even keep a cactus alive. The flowers in the pot wilted and died after two weeks, leaving only the empty pot behind.

“Now everybody knows where we put spare key.” Joffrey joked. “Who would keep an empty pot at the door if not to hide a key under it?”

Daeron forgot how he replied to Joffrey. He only remembered they ended up kissing.

The house was silent, as it should be for not being occupied for two years. To Daeron’s surprise, the house seemed to be well maintained. There was only a thin layer of dust on the inner door knob, indicating that someone visited to the house regularly.

Everything was the same as Daeron remembered. The house itself was like a time bubble, locking the fondest memories of Daeron’s life inside. Daeron had been a happy man. He had found and married his soulmate at a young age. Both of their soul marks were on their inner wrists. Daeron’s said what do you want, while Joffrey’s said hey handsome. That was how they had met in the bar where Joffrey worked as a bartender.

All happiness ended the day Daeron lost his left arm when trying to save a young girl from a shark attack. The beast had bitten his whole arm off, along with his marriage ring and his soul mark.

Since then, Daeron had become a different man. He stopped laughing. He felt the phantom pain of his lost arm constantly. He got addicted to pain meds. He snapped at Joffrey more times than he could count.

But Joffrey stayed. Joffrey tired to hold their family together. He would make Daeron meals and take him to rehab. Joffrey was not a good cook, but he tried. Daeron could tell from the bandages on his hands how Joffrey had struggled in front of the stove. But Daeron’s depression had messed with his mind. Instead of feeling loved, Daeron felt useless. He didn’t want Joffrey’s pity. He didn’t want to be that disabled guy who everyone stared at. Joffrey deserved better. Joffrey should leave him, once and for all.

So Daeron pushed Joffrey away. He snapped at every thing Joffrey did, from overcooking the oatmeal to refusing to indulge Daeron’s addiction.

“Get out!” Daeron shouted after Joffrey once again refused to give him more pain meds.

“No. I am not leaving.” Joffrey said stubbornly despite tears in his eyes.

“Then I will!” Daeron stomped out of their bedroom.

The next day, Daeron left. He had packed all his things and called a Uber to the airport. When Joffrey came home, he was greeted by an empty house and a divorce paper.

Daeron hadn’t spoken to Joffrey in two years. He knew Joffrey had moved back to Driftmark soon after Daeron had left. A sick part of Daeron felt triumphant. He was not the only one who had left.

But now, after two years, Daeron finally understood what Joffrey meant by saying he would never leave. All of Joffrey’s things were still here. His mugs, his favorite book, his game console his blanket and his fluffy cushions. They had been here the whole time, waiting for the other half of their souls that might never return.

Daeron didn’t know how much time had passed, but he found himself sitting on the loveseat with his elbows on his knees. He was better now. He was no longer an addict. He took depression meds regularly and had made huge progress according to his therapist. Funny how a stranger could make him follow the right rules. Daeron realized he had said all the cruel things to Joffrey because he knew Joffrey loved him. He knew Joffrey wouldn’t just walk away. He had taken advantage of Joffrey’s love and forced his own grief on his soulmate.

A click of the door jolted Daeron out of his thoughts.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think you would come early.” Joffrey said from the door, a neat file folder in his hand.

Daeron didn’t answer. He was mesmerized by the image of Joffrey, the real Joffrey standing in front of him. Joffrey looked just like how Daeron remembered him. Simple shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He didn’t even change his hair style.

“Daeron? Do you need a minute?” Joffrey frowned in concern but he didn’t move any closer. “I can leave you alone if you want. I can come back later.”

Daeron’s mind stopped working at the word leave. No. He could not let Joffrey leave. He had a feeling if he let go now, he would never have Joffrey again.

Before Daeron realized what he was doing, he had run to the door and wrapped Joffrey in his remaining arm. He would never be able to give Joffrey a proper hug again, but Daeron tried with everything he had.

“Don’t leave. Please.” Daeron whispered as he buried his face on Joffrey’s shoulder.

Joffrey hugged him back after a long pause.

“I am not leaving. It’s you who left.”

“I know. But now I have come home, I will never leave again.”

Daeron caressed Joffrey’s cheek with his single hand and kissed the boy he fell in love with. The boy he still loved now. His soulmate.

There was thud and Joffrey kissed back, the folder lying on the floor, forgotten.

[callmewrinkles3]

Besties, you see the shower things from his road trip? (Moment if silence for us to wipe our droll). Does this road trip happen and is it a family one? Anyway, still losing my mind over this shower content. Why is he so gorgeous???

Dear Katie you came here looking for a happy answer and it won’t be the one I’ll be giving you lol. Also first thing first he is gorgeous and i want him for Christmas 🙇🏻‍♀️

Anyway about the trip, Em doesn’t go. She’s a city girl, she’s not into camping and all that. She did it twice with Dan - one because Charlie and Blake were going and once cause he convinced her - but that’s it. Em wouldn’t let him turn it into a family trip because it was a work thing, he needs time off with his mates. Besides, it was planned before they even knew she was pregnant. Dan wouldn’t drag his wife into such a long trip while being pregnant, knowing she wouldn’t be able to do half of the things and how she was gonna uncomfortable.

The problem is they have only ever spent one night apart since Em came back in 2022, when she went with Blake for a night to cheer on Scotty at the X Games. Other than that they’ve only had a couple of hours apart and they knew that after Austin they weren’t going to see each other for weeks. They called it practice for being apart for so kind but in reality it was a nightmare. Dan was worried all the time. He didn’t have great phone signal so when his phone finally beeped he was terrified what the messages would say. That something was wrong with her or Lulu. Plus not having her around felt weird and wrong.

It was even worse for Em tho. She has her little routines. She makes Dan his tea every single night, she gets to read her books while he watches sports or some ridiculous movie that’s too ridiculous and American for her to find it funny. Since they found out about the pregnancy Dan talks to Lulu every single night. Dan sleeps with her head on his chest because his heartbeat - and his snores because she’s too in love lol - are her white noise. She wakes up with Dan kisses and cuddles every morning. He’s the one who knows what to do when the nightmares hit. He knows how to calm her down when her heart starts racing too much.

She thought she was gonna be fine, she stayed with Grace and Joe and Blake was all the time with her while Charlie was working, then both of them will be her shadow. But this is a woman with C-PTSD after years of negligence from her parents. She’s been working on it for months with her therapist Mildred, her psychiatrist and Charlie, but its hard. Mix that with her abandonment issues, pregnancy hormones and the memories of the last time she was alone and pregnant? Its a bad mix. There was nightmares, admitting to her in laws about her mental health and what was going on, and an amount of tears that was terrifying.

It took a village of Aussies looking after her and making her understand she wasn’t alone. It took an emergency session with Mildred because the flashbacks of Liverpool were too bad, even if the situation was completely different. It took an incredible amount of love and cuddles. She didn’t let anyone call Dan to tell him tho, not even in the worst night. She smiled through every call, even yelled at him for swimming with sharks. Dan could feel in his guts something was wrong, but he knew if nobody called him then it wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t until he was back home that Joe sat with him while Em napped and explained what happened. It really broke everyone’s hearts. It was really the reason why Charlie decides to move with her while the boys were going to be away for the last couple of races.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

A Recipe for Disaster (Chap. 11/FINAL!)

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7 | Pt. 8 | Pt. 9 | Pt. 10 | AO3

hooo boy, here's the end!! sorry about the wait, i really said 'here have two chapters back to back' last time then took forever to get this one out.

there were really only a few snapshots i wanted to capture post-movie but for some reason had a hard time putting it all together, but here it is!!! i hope you all love, and thank you for reading!!

Hopper, Dustin, and Wayne had pulled Steve into Wayne’s office a couple days after the wedding; They all explained to each other their sides of the mystery of one Edmund Muñoz.

Steve explained the whole foot-stomping thing: “At the ball, he told me his name was ‘Eddie. Just Eddie.’ and I accidentally stepped on his foot. He told me I could step on his foot anytime, so that’s what I did when he arrived at the palace.” to the delight of the other three.

Wayne talks a little about how Eddie’d been raised. “I tried my damndest to get him out from under the thumb of that father of his, but even after he grew up, it was like his father could do no wrong.”

“I wish I knew he was your nephew sooner…he could’ve been like a big brother….”

“I wanted to introduce you both as soon as I married your mom, son, but my brother wasn’t having it.” Wayne shakes his head in exasperation.

“That man is the absolute worst.” Hopper gripes, face dark. “Steve, the incident at the review of the guard was the Viscount. The stable boy they had walking beside Sandy was paid off by him in order to scare her with a fake snake. I called that bastard out on it directly after.”

“Eddie came t’talk to me about it the next day, too. He told me he was through dealing with his father then, and apologized for not getting his head outta his ass sooner.”

“And it was the Viscount who called the media and told them they’d be at the lake?” Dustin asks, mostly just to confirm.

“Yep.” Hopper nods solemnly. “Speaking of which…really Steve? You’re smarter than that.”

Steve’s face is on fire. “He’s charming and drop-dead gorgeous. Sue me.”

---

In the months between his almost wedding and his upcoming coronation, Steve doesn’t see hide nor hair of Eddie. 

Chrissy told him, the next time he saw her, that he’d been laying low while The Court of Public Opinion™ ran its course and he was out of the forefront of their minds.

“I’m only supposed to tell you that he’s laying low.” She had said. “But I am also going to tell you that he does not. Stop. Talking. About. You. It’s frankly ridiculous.”

His face turned red at that, and Chrissy moved to follow Robin (now officially her girlfriend, good job Robin) when Steve stopped her “Tell him I’m thinking about him, too?”

She nods, but says “That’s disgusting.” in a completely flat voice, this time actually walking away.

“Not in that way!” he called after her. Well. Not always like that.

In the end, The Court had decided they liked him; his intrusion of the wedding being seen as swoon-worthy to the masses, but some still hesitant about him trying to usurp the throne from the long standing Renaldi family.

Now, two months to the day from Joyce and Hopper’s wedding, it’s Steve’s coronation day. 

He will be King of a whole-ass country later today.

He’s sitting on the edge of the throne, feet flat on the floor, elbows on his knees, and his chin resting on his folded hands. He looks over to his side where Concrete had made himself comfy on a frankly ridiculous sized bed for one (admittedly large) cat. “What do you think, Lord Concrete, d’ya think I’ll make a good King?” Steve asks aloud, mostly just glad that his cat was in his presence for once.

“Indeed you will.”

Steve snaps his head to his right and sits up straight as the source of the voice rounds the column next to him.

“Eddie.” Steve breathes. His arms and legs threaten to hurl him forward to the other man, but he manages to stay seated. 

“If I might be so bold, I would like an audience with His Royal Highness?”

Steve fights back a grin, plays along, gesturing to the space in front of him. 

“And what is your dilemma young man?” Dustin would be proud of his own perfectly crafted haughty voice.

Eddie smiles, his eyes twinkling. “You are, in fact.” Eddie sinks to one knee, bracing his arms on his upright one. “I am in love with the King to be, and I am inquiring as to if he loves me too.”

Steve's brain shoots into the stratosphere. Love. Love? He loves him? Eddie loves him?

He manages to come back down in about a second and a half, “Do you have a chicken for my table?” Steve muses.

Eddie looks surprised at that, but smiles quickly. “Uh, no. My kitchen was fresh out of chickens.”

“Oh, well..” Steve sits back on the throne, pretending to weigh his options.

It takes about another second and a half and he’s hurtling forward, Eddie rising to his feet to meet him. Both of them lose their breath when their chests collide.

“You love me.” Steve whispers, still disbelieving, into Eddie’s neck.

“I love you, Steve.” Eddie whispers back.

Steve pulls back just far enough to see the other man’s face, “Kiss me.”

Eddie beams. That same smile from their night at the lake. “You got it, sweetheart.”

He does. The same sparks and fireworks that were present in their first ‘barely a kiss’ crackle and shine brighter now. Eddie’s mouth is soft against his, and they both sigh when their tongues meet.

Eddie’s arms tighten around his waist and suddenly he’s being lifted, their lips separating in laughter as Eddie spins them both in a circle before he’s set on his feet again.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

---

Eddie’s heart is beating a mile a minute. 

No, faster than a mile a minute.

He can’t believe he’s here. After all the bullshit he’s done in his life, he, Edmund Muñoz, is attending the coronation of the Crown Prince of Genovia.

Okay, being here, he can believe; he’s a respected member of this society, and probably would’ve been invited anyway, but he’s here and counted amongst the most valued friends and family of said Prince. His boyfriend.

He takes in the people around the room: Jim Hopper, former head of palace security is standing at the bottom of one of the ballroom’s staircases, not for work, but because his wife, the current Queen, will be entering on that side and he will be there to greet her.

The Crown Prince’s right hand lesbian man is standing at the bottom of the other staircase on Eddie’s left, his childhood best friend on her other side because they’re dating now (and are Genovia’s hottest couple “Suck on that, Eduardo!”).

The Prince’s ex-fiance would be at the side of her new beau if he wasn’t the head of the palace’s photography/PR division and running round shooting everything, and if she didn’t also already have her hands full writing down every single thing in front of her, now that she was the one leading the Palace’s press releases.

There was a gaggle of seven seemingly mis-matched teenagers standing front and center of the rest of the stuffy other dignitaries that were invited, as Prince Stephan’s personal guests.

Michael, crown prince of his own country and almost brother-in-law to the King-to-be, is hand in hand with his boyfriend Will, one half of the formerly mentioned Jim Hopper’s Wonder Twins. His sister Ellie has one hand locked with the Prime Minister’s son, Dustin, and the other is hooked onto the elbow of her best friend and up-and-coming chef extraordinaire, Maxine (“Mark my words Maxine, you are going to be bigger than Fieri.” “Call me Maxine again and your next batch of brownies will be laced with asbestos…but thank you, Eddie.”). Max, who in turn has her other pinkie hooked onto young Lord Lucas Sinclair’s. Then finally, Lucas’ sister Erica is pretending not to care about the event happening around her (but even Eddie can tell she’s excited).

The Party. Their Family. This weird gaggle of royals and non-royals all brought together by Steve in some way or another.

Eddie’s pulled out of his thoughts about his new family with the loud battering of a drumline drumroll starting up. The band members positioned on either staircase start playing, and there they are.

Queen Joyce looks regal, as always, this time with the addition of the Genovian crown jewels on her head. She’s in a beautiful maroon colored dress and cape that she swishes out of the way when she turns to step down the stairs.

But Steve, his Steve. He’s gorgeous in an ivory pear tree suit and maroon, fur lined, cape. Despite how nervous he must be, he doesn’t look it. He looks confident, radiant as he strides down the steps.

“He looks extraordinary.” Eddie says to no one. 

“They both do.” comes a blubbering voice from slightly behind him; turning to look, it’s Murray, sobbing. Eddie smirks and shakes his head, turning his attention back to the prince.

He reaches the bottom of the steps, and Eddie’s fingers twitch, itching to reach out for him, to grab his hand. Instead, he smiles crookedly at his boyfriend in the fleeting glance he gets before he has to step by as rehearsed.

Steve steps up to the throne and gathers the cape from behind him to turn and sit in front of his people.

Once he’s seated properly, the archbishop starts in on his scripted spiel, and while speaking, moves to Joyce, standing at Steve’s side, and gingerly lifts the Genovian crown jewels from her majesty’s head, and places it atop Steve’s.

Another person in ceremonial garb brings in the orb and scepter then, laid carefully on a large ceremonial pillow. They kneel on the step in front of Steve, who reaches forward and lifts both easily.

The speech ends with two very important questions. “Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of Genovia, according to the statutes in Parliament agreed on, and the respective laws and customs of the same? Will you, in your power, cause law and justice and mercy to be executed in all judgements?”

“I solemnly promise so to do” Steve’s voice does not waver.

The archbishop moves aside, and Steve turns his head first to Joyce, then to him. Eddie tries beaming a message into the other man’s brain when Steve’s brilliant hazel eyes lock with his chocolate brown. “I love you, you look amazing, you are perfect, you’ve got this, I love you so damn much.”

Eddie can feel what Steve tells him in return. “I love you too, Eddie. I can’t wait to kiss you stupid.” and seals it with a wink

Okay, maybe that’s just what Eddie wants to hear.

Steve stands and the band starts up once more, playing the Genovian national anthem. And even though he knew it was coming, Eddie had to fight back a laugh at it being Wayne who’s leading the gathered guests in singing.

They all sing, and in the last lines, Eddie watches Steve take a few steadying breaths.

The last note of the anthem ends, and immediately the majordomo bangs his staff twice. “Presenting his Royal Majesty, Stephan Artur Renaldi the Third, King of Genovia.”

-

That evening, after dark, Steve and the rest of his family retreat to the palace grounds to make the coronation official.

“You’ve got this, sunshine.” Eddie encourages, giving his side a squeeze with the arm he has hooked around Steve’s waist before he moves to stand beside Wayne and Dustin.

Steve accepts the bow from his trainer, this time tipped with a flammable end.

“The ceremonial shooting of the flaming arrow through the coronation ring.” the majordomo bellows once Steve’s arrow is lit.

He takes a deep breath, focusing on the tower and ring in front of him, and Eddie’s words filter through his mind as he takes aim.

“Use your mouth as an anchor.”

Steve touches his fingertips to the corner of his mouth.

“Lower this elbow..”

He feels the ghost of Eddie’s fingers dragging down his arm as he does.

“..and relax this hand.”

At least now he can hold Eddie’s hand whenever he wants to. ‘Yep, still corny.’ he thinks to himself.

“Then…release.”

The arrow flies, and the ring erupts in flame.

Steve smiles in surprise and turns toward Eddie, only the find the other man already heading to him, scooping him into his arms.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you, Stevie.”

Steve relaxes into Eddie’s arms and breathes a sigh of relief, taking in the sounds of his family cheering around him.

—-

One year after his coronation, under what they are now calling their tree on the palace grounds, site of multiple picnics, long nights, and slow dances.

It’s during one of those slow dances that Eddie pauses, says he needs to say something.

As soon as he starts talking, Steve knows what’s coming, and his eyes burn with unshed tears immediately.

“One year ago, I brought you here; one year ago I knew I wanted to be with you until the end of my days. I may have fallen for you when we first danced together at the ball, I may have loved you every day since, but it was that night that I knew my life would never be even a fraction of what it could, without you in it.” Eddie sinks to one knee, much like he did the day of Steve’s coronation, this time, he had a small box in his hand “I am so in love with you, Stevie, will you marry me?”

Eddie opens the box and Steve's laugh comes out a sob. It’s his grandmother's ring, the one he’d proposed to Nancy with.

“Joyce was in on this, wasn’t she?” Steve is surprised his voice is as clear as it is, his throat tight with emotion.

Eddie grins up at him, mischievous as always.

Steve sinks down to Eddie’s level, the other man’s unoccupied hand coming up to help brace him on instinct. Kneeling in front of his fiancé, Steve says “Of course I'll marry you.”

Eddie’s face flashes briefly to relief, a blink-and-you’d-miss-it reaction, then he’s snapping the box closed and diving forward to capture Steve's lips with his.

“Mph!” Steve is struggling to kiss him, fighting back elated smile after smile, when Eddie lowers the two of them down to the ground below

While Steve is definitely not opposed to the feeling of Eddie atop him, he’s got other plans.

Steve flips the two of them over easily, straddling and pressing his hips into Eddie's in 0.5 seconds flat.

He lays himself down along Eddie’s torso and latches onto his neck. Between sucking kisses into Eddie’s throat that will ensure he’ll be wearing his hair down until they fade completely, and Eddie’s flustered gasps at his ministrations, Steve says “Nuh uh, I want my ring first, Muñoz.” before setting in on attacking his lips.

Eddie smiles beneath him and shifts, reaching down to his pocket again. He produces the box, managing to get his hands between them enough to open it to Steve.

Steve smiles, and sits up onto his heels, plucking the ring from the box and sliding it onto his finger. Eddie follows him up and locks his arms around him. 

Steve drapes one arm over Eddie’s shoulder automatically, attention still on his left hand. He’s struck by the realization that his grandmother’s ring on his third finger now sits comfortably beside the only other he’d been wearing, his grandfather's signet ring on his middle.

“It really is beautiful.”

Eddie’s is pressing his own kisses to Steve’s face and collarbone. “Only on you, sweetheart.” he purrs.

“You think it’d look better if it was the only thing I was wearing?” he asks nonchalantly, still looking at the diamond on his finger, and reveling in how quickly Eddie freezes beneath him.

In the next second, Steve’s laughing at how quickly Eddie’s got them both up and is nearly sprinting them back to their horses.

Their wedding a year later, of course, was a huge to-do and Steve goes all in with planning. Starting later that same night (early morning?) that Eddie proposed.

---

For a good month after his appearance in the independence day parade, Martín had all manner of inquiries about his adoption. Inquiries that the team that worked there took with extra caution. Luckily they did, because about 80% of those just wanted to be the ones to adopt Prince Steve’s favorite, and the other 20% (sadly) just were not good fits for him.

After that, the inquiries stopped. Until Steve decides to foster him, applying to adopt him fully on his own not even a month later.

The adoption is made official the day after Steve and Eddie get married, making him every bit their son, and therefore every bit the new heir apparent to the throne of Genovia. The now-six-year-old Martin absolutely adores ALL his Aunts and Uncles, but if you ask him, his Aunt Max is his most favorite (a fact that both makes Max want to cry, and also scream in joy from the palace roof).

---

There had been quite a few public visitations since Steve had become King (at the first of which, he’d grinned as he announced: “There better not be any chickens in those baskets.”), now that they are married, Eddie would be joining him at the next one.

It was at this first visitation together, between one citizen taking their leave and the next taking their place, that Steve leaned over to Eddie at his side.

“We’re two for three, my love.”

His husband makes a noise like the breath had been punched from his lungs at that, his face morphing into a glowing smile, turning to Steve. “We are, aren’t we?”

Steve reaches for Eddie, who takes his hand immediately, turning it over and pressing a kiss to the back. “It’s better than I imagined.”

---

After 20 years of marriage, and 22 years on the throne, the official portrait of King Stephan Artur Renaldi III and his Prince Consort Edmund Théo Renaldi (“No way are you calling me King anything, Stevie, I stand by what I said at Jopper’s wedding.”) is commissioned. 

Crown Prince of Genovia, Martín Tomás Renaldi (who has grown to be quite the looker, unsurprisingly taking every bit after his father) is included for one copy of the painting, for Steve to keep in his personal study, but the official painting that’ll be hung beside Joyce and Bob is only he and Eddie. Eddie is standing behind Steve, a ringed hand on his shoulder, and Steve’s arm is curled up at the elbow to thread their fingers together.

They are both a bit older, only a few streaks of gray to their hair, but soon, the portrait is finished.

They’re in attendance when it’s hung in the throne room, much to the confusion of the palace staff tasked with hanging it.

“That’s it.” Steve says when the staff takes their leave.

“Hm? What’s ‘it’, sunshine?”

Steve grins “That’s all three.”

Okay, last couple notes:

I had Steve change the name he'd be known as when he became King, not for his ass of a father, but the grandfather he never knew

With the naming conventions of the British Monarchy as a guide though, I think he'd officially be King Stephan II since his father never became King, our Steve is only the second Stephan to take the Thone, but the Third of that name in actuality (does that make sense?? lmao).

Of course Eddie would drop Muñoz ASAP, and THANK YOU @henderdads with helping me decide on his middle name!!!!

Martín Renaldi?? Crown Prince of Genovia???? skldfaslkdfjsalk

And finally, again tagging @henderdads because this whole re-write/AU wouldn't exist without her encouragement on my original post (where it was originally Mia!Eddie and Nicholas!Steve), and would be seriously lacking in other places without her input!!! Cass, ILYSM!!!

Last round of tags!! @sadcanadianwinter @hopefulslothcollecter @steveshairychest @sidebarre @resident-gay-bitch @kaspurrcat @melkene @livewondrousss @steddieasitgoes @mightbeasleep @princessstevemunson @totallybitchin @potentialheartofdarkness @spectrum-spectre @munsonfamilyband @knitsforthetrail

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

23 - Four months before the Emperor's murder

Start of Act 3.

Third skull.

Sometimes Mercymorn spread open a system map of local space, triangulating things that the elders frowned over and talked about in a way that did not include you or Ianthe. Quite often you two ate dinner in stony silence while, as Ianthe bitterly put it, the adults talked.

Aww you got your own little kiddies table.

Must suck though, especially for two kids who are seventeen and early 20s. You so desperately want to be included in grownup things.

You thought that had not quite suited Naberius, though it was hard to remember the Prince of Ida, these days. He was a face and a set of eyes and very little else. It was as though your brain had formed a scab over everything that had happened to you.

And why would that be, Harrow?

Perhaps the reason is linked with the reason why you can't connect with your cavalier?

noticed that the autodoor to Cytherea’s tomb was shut. It was never shut. Its wounded openness, the thin smell of perpetual roses that always seemed to drift from that terrible monument, was a constant. Now it was closed.

Are we about to learn a little more about Cytherea's possible alive-ness?

... no, but it sure Looks like I might have been right about her and Ortus the First being in, well, cahoots. To say the least.

“I caught the Saint of Duty in the throes of grave lust,” you told Ianthe, about a minute later: [...] “The classical vice. Oldest sin in the book.”

And who is Harrow to judge, exactly? She who has been in love with a dead girl for nearly a decade?

“Tridentarius, my position is not so precarious that I am going to ignore things that happen in front of my face.” “Yes, but are they actually?” “Don’t presume you know what you’re talking about.”

Ianthe is doubting Harrow. Somewhat reasonably. But Harrow, I think, has been living with this psychosis for long enough that she knows what's real and what isn't.

“Don’t draw on me with that ridiculous thing. You don’t even know where you got it.” “God gave it to me.” “And you’ve never asked yourself why?”

Ianthe is tired of Harrow being in the dark about important things like why, and how, she got that sword.

Honestly, same.

“So tell me why,” you said evenly. “Can’t,” she snapped. “You ensorcelled my jaw, you fucking psycho shadow vestal! Yes, I worked that one out! So unless I want to do homebrew mandible surgery, I can’t squeal to anyone.

Ohhh, this is really interesting. Here we have some data points - one, Harrow put some kind of curse on Ianthe so Ianthe wouldn't be able to tell her (or anyone!) outright what was going on. And two, this is the reason why Harrow needed to find out if Ianthe's jaw and tongue were replaced recently (via kissing her).

Harrow as suspect for her own memory alteration is moving up again in likelihood.

We still don't have any more of a clue for why.

[rin-and-jade]

hey it's pop again, I already technically posted this in a comment section on a YouTube video but I just need to tell you too.

when I was little, I used to get yelled at a lot. I never did go to school, so I never did have that time away from home other kids got, I never was social. I was holed up In our house, for most of my life. still am, the only sense if actual no strings attached freedom I get is from the internet.

I am able to be who I want on here without the anger, and yelling. or the "why are you just sitting there? you could be doing anything!" or "you stupid kid, you know you can do better" or "DO BETTER" or "GET UP AND OUT DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE!" or just anything.

I just don't like the feelings, I feel so guilty about nothing! I wanna vomit and cry and scream for no reason!

I feel like anything I do is judged and if I make a slight mistake I'm ridiculed. they all still get angry about my past mistakes.

it wasn't even anything bad! everything I've done has ended up okay, no one has groomed me, no one has verbally abused me on here, they actually like what I have to say. they give me space and time to talk.

my stutter came back, I didn't realise at first. but now it's just in my head, I stutter and go over my words again and again. and I don't know why.

I've been doing the best I possibly can, I clean, I cook, I do my chores and fold the clothes, I take care of my siblings, I take care of the dog I don't want to take care of. (I love her, but we literally agreed that I wouldn't have to do any dog chores since it gives me hives and asthma and I just can't deal with it.)

I try so FUNKING HARD, and I barely get any credit for it. if I truly moved out, they would be so lost without me.

I want to move out, and see the world and just BE something. I want to DO something that's not just staying confined in my room or only going out when they go out.

I want that smidgeon of freedom, I just can't grasp. so here I am, again. on the internet the only "safe" place I know these days. I can't read a book and distract myself from my parents arguments, I don't have the space to play music without headphones, I can't watch tv or the sort because the TV is in the places where they argue.

so all I have is this, this little text. to quench my thirst of being "abused" or "mistreated" I don't even know anymore.

I love them, dearly. but I just can't spend the rest of my life stuck to them like glue, I know my siblings will be confused and sad. but I just NEED to free myself, I need to be in charge of where and when I can go.

I want to do walks, I want to aimlessly walk malls, I want to work a job or just maybe die.

it's just overwhelming, I want that freedom. and I want to go to my own home, meet people. fall in love, make something of myself. 

make mistakes I'm proud of, and funk up bad. go to THERAPY, god I just want that.

but I'm just stuck in a cycle I can't escape, maybe one day I will. and I'll cry many tears and walk my small stupid apartment, and put up posters and play online games. and talk with people I don't know, and just exist in the way I want to.

find people like me, and go to arcades and spend my pocket money on it. I wander the world, learn a language! I want to do so much and yet I'm trapped.

but one day I'll leave, one day I'll be on my own and it will be so nice.

-pop

Wanna add that never do i have the privilege to express my anger as its always fought back with more anger, like goddamnit how can you be mad and i listen when you can't accept a tinge??

Anyway, as you're independent, you'll do good living alone and working alone one day,, do all the things you want and meet anyone you want. Just remember going as a lone wolf will also have it's troubles so atleast find/have someone to trust along the way.

An absolute survivor, go slay sir/maam.

- j

[briamichellewrites]

82

Jonah and Bradford stayed for about an hour and a half. They had to eat dinner at home and then take a bath before going to bed. Jonah loved playing in the water while bathing! The warm water made it easier for him to fall asleep. He fell asleep wearing a clean diaper, comfortable pyjamas, and his favourite stuffed dog. The dog was instrumental in keeping monsters at bay. Bradford purchased the same toy he had at Elisa's to ensure that they did not forget it when he moved houses.

He picked up the playroom after he went to bed. He disliked messes. Everything had its place, and he preferred to keep it that way. That made the situation less stressful. The toys were stored in a toy chest, and the books were returned to their original locations on the shelves. His stuffed animals were placed on the floor, making them easy to reach. He remembered a conversation he once had with Rob.

He commented on how ironic it was to have children when he disliked messes and loud noises. Bradford had to think because he could not come up with an answer. He did not know. Rob simply nodded. They had a discussion about their future. Rob ended their relationship after three months. He was depressed and distanced himself from everyone. Bradford was taken aback at first because he assumed they had a wonderful relationship. He felt heartbroken.

A week later, Rob returned to him and apologised. They talked about what happened and how it impacted him. Despite being in therapy and taking medication, Rob was very private about his depression. The band was aware that he struggled with self-esteem issues, but they were unaware of the extent of his mental state. For the first time, he revealed everything.

He ended his relationship with him because he suspected he was going to leave. It was better for him to leave before he got hurt. He genuinely loved him. His mind abused and tormented him. Bradford hugged him. He felt both angry and compassionate. He thanked him for being straightforward with him. Was he suicidal? No, he had no intention of harming himself. Good. He felt relieved to hear that. They decided against continuing their relationship. Instead, they would remain friends.

Rob continued to come over on occasion to hang out with him and Jonah. He was constantly amused by the toddler and tried to figure out what was going through his little mind. Bradford found it amusing watching them together. Rob felt awkward around kids because he could not relate to them.

Bria and Brad were having lunch together. They tried to ignore the paparazzi who were taking photos of them. He apologised for their break-up and his relapse. She told him that, despite her understanding of addiction as a former addict, she was extremely angry. Why was she so angry? Because it made her feel like everything was falling apart. It was not just him. Jason was also having difficulty maintaining his sobriety.

She also believed she was not good enough. It sounded ridiculous, but it was as if they would rather use drugs and drink than be with her. The final reason she was upset was that it reminded her of how simple it was to relapse. She could go anywhere in Los Angeles and buy heroin. It was hard not to do that. He listened to her words and acknowledged them. It had nothing to do with her actions or inaction. He thought he was not good enough for her.

He accepted responsibility for not standing up for himself. She was right when she said he was a coward. He was. He could not muster the courage to confront his family for whatever reason. He chose them over her, and every day he regretted his decision. She requested to see his phone. He took it out of his pocket and enquired suspiciously about what she intended to do.

She went through his text messages, which were disorganised, and discovered the group chat he was in with his family. He stood up and sat down next to her, then looked over her shoulder.

"First off, dude. Clean up your messages. I can’t find shit on here.”

He laughed. She typed a response to them, pretending to be him: I have been thinking about what you have all said, and I have made a decision. Even though I disagree, I respect your right to your own opinions. You will no longer be allowed to disrespect Bria. I should have defended her a long time ago. But I am finally putting my foot down. Disrespecting her equals disrespect for me. I am not sure where our relationship is going right now, but she will always be an important part of my life. You do not have to like her, but you will treat her well because I adore her. This will never change. - Brad

He reviewed it before sending it. After rising, he returned to his seat.

Bradford found Bria alone in the studio several hours later. She was putting together covers of some of her favourite songs. It was not anything serious. Rather, she was just playing around. He requested to listen to one. She looked through her laptop's files and found the Shania Twain cover she had created. It was only her and the keyboard. He listened to it with affection in his heart. It sounded beautiful! He would never grow tired of hearing her voice. There was something enchanting about it.

"That was the most beautiful song I have ever heard. I am speechless!"

"Was it really that good?"

"Bria, it was absolutely fantastic!"

She laughed, prompting him to question whether she believed him. She did. She simply thought he was adorable. He gave a small embarrassed laugh. There was something he always desired from her. She questioned him about it. All he wanted was a kiss. She got up and walked between his legs. Before kissing her, he used his hands to frame her face. It felt amazing! Everything was exactly as he had hoped.

She rested her hands on his shoulders. He pulled away before they got too far. She enquired as to whether there was anything wrong. He simply enquired as to whether she used birth control. She was unable to have children due to chemotherapy. He asked if he could have her. Yes. They decided to go upstairs to her bedroom to have some privacy. Mike and Dave were on a camping trip, so they did not have to be concerned about them accidentally walking in on them. They went upstairs and shut the door.

Mike and Dave hiked out to their campsite. They organised everything before sorting it. While Mike was admiring the beauty of nature, he approached him from behind and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. He laughed at his husband before saying thank you. Dave responded, "You deserve it." They stood together for a moment, taking it all in, before deciding to prepare their own dinner.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[yamatossideboob]

ONE PIECE 1118 Spoilers!

This week's red hot moves:

Yamato!! you have to save your lunchbox!! you'll just be hungry again later!! Yamato noooooooooooooooo

I keep forgetting just how fucking huge the Giant Robo is, thats a big breakfast boy right there

"Say the line Iron Giant!"

*absolute crickets bc this is getting ridiculous now and not in the fun way*

"What's happening on Egghead?!" Sit down fella this is going to take a while

Sooooooo here we may have a major aspect of the Final War being set up, where a good chunk of, if not *most* of the OP world is going to believe Luffy is a violent anarchist who killed a beloved scientician, bc the World Gov & Marines said so and they wouldn't lie about thaaaaaaaaaaat. They may come into conflict with the steadfast believers who've met or seen Luffy and know he didn't do it. Whether this becomes full-on war remains to be seen, but I think at the least we can expect the world to be much less welcoming to the Strawhats and their allies post-Egghead :s

I forget if its public knowledge that Sabo is Luffy's brother, but since Sabo is credited in some parts with the assassination of Nefertari Cobra, my above musings don't feel that out-there unfortunately :y

Anyway good to see more of the Alabasta homies

ty for correcting that horrid little bug Rebecca

SPEAKING OF SPECULATION I think we'll probably end up with a Vegapunk satellite on each side here basically? York with the WG, and Atlas and/or Lilith remaining free to access the same knowledge (probably not with the crew, they'll likely shack up with the giants on Elbaf or maybe with the Rev Army?) we shall see.

lmfao i keep getting surprised by how big the Giant Pirates' ships are. who would have expected colossal viking-inspired humanoids to have similarly gigantic sailing vessels

LMFAO BABY VICE ADMIRALSSSSSSSSS Doll's so mad i love it

HOW MANY TIMES DO WE NEED TO TEACH YOU THIS LESSON OLD MAN!!!!! god auld fellas never give over

FUCKIN YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GEAR 5TH IS BACK WITH THE BOOMBOXIN

I fucking love that giant meat has full restored Luffy so hard he's causing localised earthquakes AND its so loud that its getting the other giants ship dancing with the drums of liberation miles away, its so so so good

okay. I love Nika Bonney so much for multiple reasons:

This is Bonney after meeting the Sun God her father told her so much about, and getting the idea into her head that she can be this free too.

That little side panel where we're shown Kuma's body... I want to think that somehow, he knows. I need for him to know. I need for him to see Nika Bonney and know that she can finally be really free and doesn't need him to be afraid for her or watch out for her anymore. That everything he did was worth it after all. Pls Oda, somehow. I don't care how stupid the reason is.

I fucking love the troll physics energy this has. One is utter fucking chaos, two is chaos team up tandem and that spells big trouble for Elder monsters!!! Mars is gonna regret this!!!!!

As has all but been confirmed, the Iron Giant is powered by drum heartbeats, and the sheer racket of TWO Nika heartrates might finally be enough for Giant Robo to DO SOMETHING WHICH MIGHT STILL HAVE THE CHANCE TO BE HYPE LADS

If the Iron Giant manages to play a role in bringing Mars down or at least stalling the Elders enough for everyone get away, I really think it'll make all of the blueballing wrt the Robo this arc be worth it. In hindsight. Such are the perils of weekly engagement. I hope Robo sees Nika Luffy and Bonney too...

Finally, the vocal minority power scaling bros seem to be HATING Nika Bonney, and I live for fake fans getting mud flung in their faces lmfaooooo

In any case, we'll find out next week my nakama! See ye all there! 💪✖️

[project1939]

100+ Films of 1952

Film number 126: Carrie 

Release date: July 17th, 1952 

Studio: MGM 

Genre: melodrama 

Director: William Wyler 

Producer: Lester Koenig, William Wyler 

Actors: Laurence Olivier, Jennifer Jones, Eddie Albert 

Plot Summary: Based on Theodore Dreiser's 1900 novel Sister Carrie, Carrie travels to Chicago to make her way in the big city. After getting fired from her factory job, she finds a caretaker in Charlie, a man she met on the train. When she moves in with him before they are married, social stigma destroys her reputation and self-worth. Then a rich friend of Charlie's falls head over heels for her... 

My Rating (out of five stars): **¾  

This is one of those “prestige films” that falls flat on its bloated self-important face. To be fair, it’s not exactly a bad film... it’s just not a very good one. Laurence Olivier is its saving grace, but even he can’t work miracles. (Spoilers!) 

The Good: 

Laurence Olivier as George. He is the reason to watch this film. His performance wraps you up with him, and you can almost feel everything George does. It’s impressively natural and expressive at the same time, and I just loved watching it. He maybe leaned a little too hard into the melodrama at the end, but I forgive that because of everything that came before. 

Eddie Albert as Charlie. He was really effective and entertaining as a fast-talking salesman who was equal parts charming and caddish. 

The period costumes and sets were beautiful. 

Some of the writing/dialogue was good. There were several times when I was watching that I thought, “Oooh that's a good line.” I assume this is probably from the source material. 

I liked that many of the women weren’t wearing heavy Hollywood makeup. That was much more historically accurate- for the early 1900s, it would have been ridiculous. 

The Bad: 

The character of Carrie. I don’t know if she had more complexity and agency in the book, but here she was mostly reduced to simpering and helpless. 

Jennifer Jones. Part of it was the script, I’m sure, but she wasn’t alluring or interesting enough to rise above the material. I was highly skeptical that she could have caused George to lose all his senses. 

There was a lack of detail at the beginning of the romance between Carrie and George, so their love wasn’t very believable or engrossing. 

Having to change the source material because it wasn’t safe for Hollywood. The ending was even more bleak in the novel, it was less moralizing, and its sexuality was more overt. 

It got much too melodramatic in the last third of the film, and especially in the last 15 minutes or so. The absurd contrast between her success on the stage and his fall into the gutter was way too much. 

The music was over the top even for a melodrama. It was so bad it pulled me out of the story and made me laugh more than once. 

It was an incredibly bleak film, numbingly and painfully so. Sometimes a bleak film is worth it because of its artistic excellence or the issues it raises. This film had neither.  

The Hollywood trope of people who are down on their luck suddenly becoming famous actors. When Carrie is destitute, her solution is to go on the stage! Cause that’s a surefire way to make money, isn’t it? Well, in Hollywood films it is! 

Again with the blaming of women for sexual “sins” rather than men. The poster makes it seem like the onus is all on her, when: 1) a guy pretty much tricked her into living with him before they were married, and 2) another man didn’t tell her he was married when he wooed her, and then he married her without telling her he hadn’t divorced his first wife! She was the one at fault?! She was the one “using men”?!?!