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#Crewes writing
creweemmaeec11 · 1 year
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Maybe They Fell In Love
"They are dead villain," Civilian urged, "You don't have to worry about it,"
"It doesn't make any sense, though," villain pondered out loud as they walked in restless circles around their coffee table, "Hero is too good to just 'go missing' and there's been nothing but radio silence about them in the criminal world,"
"The agency declared them dead," civilian argued. The announcement had been made over a week ago, and their lover had done nothing but stress about it since.
"Yeah, that means nothing," villain replied, "They are a bunch of liars to begin with, and they don't even have a body for a public funeral,"
"Okay, let's say they did lie. What if hero just quit?" Their lover tried, but the criminal was already shaking their head.
"No, that makes even less sense. Hero didn't have any reason to quit"
"How do you know?" Civilian piped up, "Maybe something happened-"
"They were a HERO!" Villain stressed, "What POSSIBLE reason could they have to quit being a hero?!"
Civilian looked down, fidgeting with the hem of their shirt, "Maybe they fell in love..."
The criminal stopped pacing, turning to face their lover, "excuse me?"
"Maybe..." Civilian started slowly, as if testing the waters, "Maybe they were raised to believe everything was black and white... that villains were just heartless monsters that deserved to be thrown in prison. Maybe they met someone while working undercover who started to... challenge that belief...maybe..." they swallowed nervously, "maybe they started to develop feelings as time went on. Maybe they eventually realized that they were happier with a villain than they ever were at the academy. Maybe they couldn't bare the thought of fighting with the one they loved... so..."
Finally, they dared to glance up, meeting villain's wide, shocked eyes with their guilty ones, "so... I quit..."
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luxaofhesperides · 2 months
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Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!
For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.
It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.
But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly. 
His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color. 
He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.
And then it went nearly colorless. 
Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating. 
Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate. 
Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.
A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever. 
“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy. 
Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents. 
“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.
The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it. 
Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence. 
“Morning,” Duke offers.
“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”
“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”
Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”
“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”
Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”
“I’ll drive, too.”
“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”
Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”
“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”
“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”
Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”
Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door. 
The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out. 
The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once. 
Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words. 
“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”
“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”
“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”
The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left. 
“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze. 
It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.
Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.  
He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. 
He gets the Vietnamese Plate.
Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.” 
The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles. 
Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”
“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”
As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”
She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen. 
Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders. 
Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.
But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.
The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that. 
She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet. 
As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day. 
“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”
“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”
“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security. 
He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction. 
As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage. 
Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”
“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office. 
“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”
“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”
“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.
Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time. 
Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives. 
“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.
Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”
“Oh, yikes.”
“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”
“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.
He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed. 
“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”
Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”
“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”
“What does this do?”
“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”
“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises. 
Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”
She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye. 
By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.
Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.
“Duke?”
It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest. 
It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die. 
This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it. 
He won’t let anyone take it from him. 
“Duke. Give that to me.”
He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary. 
“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat. 
Bruce reaches a hand out. 
He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him. 
“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.
“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”
“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”
Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.
Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.
Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away. 
The orb in his hand moves. 
Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.
It’s his soulmark. 
Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it. 
One moment, the orb was still.
The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap. 
Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid. 
“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot. 
“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face. 
“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.
“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke. 
“Are you alright?”
Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”
Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises. 
If anyone can, it’s Batman. 
If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends. 
Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.
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obsidianbit · 7 months
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I love this gay ass show with its literally life ending injuries that heal immediately, but only when convenient to the plot, and its ridiculous use of modern phrases, and its laughing in the face of historical accuracy, and its kissing the face of the fans instead of trying to outwit them, and the way everyone involved in the show seem to go 'I KNOW RIGHT! I'M EXCITED TOO!' instead of mocking the fans
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toh-tagteam-au · 2 years
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I really like how Thanks to Them makes Belos physically and literally represent his core character traits of manipulating people and discarding them the second they fulfill their purpose and are no longer useful to him by making his main powerset in the episode possessing things and then discarding them, usually completely stripped of life.
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azul-marie · 7 months
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— a touching of souls.
their kisses with you. fem. reader. suggestive. feat. bi-han, kuai, tomas, syzoth.
bi-han —
steady and sure, grabbing at your waist, wrapping a hand around your throat to keep you still as he indulges himself in your lips. although he is not the most affectionate man, bi-han has an exceptional fondness for kisses. perhaps it’s the breathless sounds you make, or the soft gasps in between his tongue — perhaps it is simply that he prefers you at his mercy, a pretty little thing caged beneath or within strong arms. typically at night, when the moon is high and all is silent, he allows himself to calm, to open before you and allow you to initiate. bi-han tends to lose himself in these moments all too easily, an annoyance at his expense. most times, without even trying, simple kisses from you lead to sleepless nights and sore bodies.
kuai liang —
ardent, unrestrained, grasping at hips and breasts and hair, unable to keep what little space remains between the two of you from heating up — figuratively, literally. his lin kuei ways may have taught him restraint, focus, but kuai’s hotheaded tendencies always get the best of him when it comes to you, only for you. his kisses trail like fire all across your body, his teeth leaving scorches in their wake, a tongue like that of flames licking at tender flesh until you melt like caramel in his hands. kuai is unrelentingly keen on smothering you with every bit of adoration he has; his lips alone are more than capable of proving it. you are a goddess worthy of worship, and he a devotee all too willing to bow down and serve, evermore shall his love burn for you.
tomas —
soft like daytime mist, cupping apples of cheeks, the tremble of fingers when his lips touch yours. he has little experience with romancing women, much less the gift of their kisses; you are his beginning, his end. it is precisely why tomas pecks, rather than lose himself to your lips, for a bashful nature keeps what eager will he has in check. his boyish charm only adds to the endearment, and often he finds you to be the one most content in initiating them. it’s a strange comfort, that you still pursue him despite his meeker approach to affection and love. assuring him that he is wanted sends his self-confidence soaring, and gradually does he ease into the idea of receiving and giving kisses on a more constant basis — privately, of course.
syzoth —
quick and light, flurries of kisses, all about your pretty face, your petalsoft lips, sometimes at those sensitive sweet spots across your décolletage if he’s feeling cheekier than usual. syzoth, fairly new to the concept of kissing with warm, wet mouths, tongue and teeth and all, hadn’t expected warm-blood affection to be so pleasant. he is cautious of physicality, having grown to live without its softer aspects for years prior to you, but kisses are easy, innocent enough to practice. you have made it this way for him, precious as you are. he kisses you hello, goodbye, as luck before either one of you leaves for calling duties, and simply when he feels like it, even if friends are around to witness and tease. he doesn’t mind them, as long as you don’t.
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be-with-me-so-happily · 9 months
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il gran finale
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ONE SHOT
Summary: As photography apprentice to Lloyd Wakefield, you have been around Harry quite a lot on tour, capturing all the mesmerizing moments on stage. But at the after party of the final show in Reggio Emilia, he seems to be the one zoned in on you.
AN: I don't know if this is any good. I haven't written smut in so long, but with Love On Tour coming to an end, I needed to do something!
Warnings: Some explicit language, alcohol consumption, mild exhibitionism kink, fingering, public unprotected intercourse (wrap it before you tap it people)
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You've always known Harry Styles is a gentleman. Even before you took on the role of apprentice photographer to Lloyd Wakefield, you only ever heard positive comments about the man, about how kind and caring he is. No one ever has a bad thing to say, and touring with him has only proven those things to be true. He is a sweet guy, just as everyone claims him to be.
That's his reputation. His public reputation.
But the way his enchanting and lustful green eyes have locked in on you for the past several minutes has made you think of nothing but the other reputation he has. The dream that you and thousands of his fans indulge in. The fantasy of him taking control of every single part of you, of using you, of pleasing you. Of giving you everything he has while you are under him, and on top of him, and in front of him, and…
You reset yourself as nearby laughter pulls you out of those delicious yet indelicate thoughts, ones you may need to draw upon later in the privacy of your hotel room.
It's bad enough that he has a flirtatious side. The subtle winks, the cheeky smiles, the wiggles of his eyebrows when a mildly indecent comment has been made. Usually by him. Both on and off stage, each of those gestures can easily get you flustered.
And it definitely doesn't make your job any easier, especially considering it's your assignment to watch him, to photograph him, to view him in a variety of different angles, none of which could be considered unflattering. He always looks good.
The outfit tonight, the shaggy silver get-up, showcasing his glistening pecs and chiseled abs, only added to the assortment of desires you only dwell upon alone at night. You're usually very composed, for the most part. You know how to play it cool.
But right now, as his stare exhibits something primal, you feel as if your entire body is on fire, and you can't help but be engulfed by the flames.
Clinking of the ice in your glass as you bring it to your lips alerts you to the fact that your drink has been fully consumed, and you decide to head to the bar for a refill. If not just for another drink, then for the moment of solidarity to gather yourself and bring some air back into your lungs. Because you are sure it's not the alcohol that's causing you to feel so dizzy.
"Hi, could I please hav-"
"Another margarita?" You hear in a deep, sultry, British voice sounding out from behind you. Right behind you.
"Yes please." You utter, almost inaudibly, to the bartender, the heat from before intensifying with each breath of Harry's that you feel on your neck.
"And I'll have two shots of Tequila, please sir." He states, so casually, as you stand frozen in place.
A cold breeze hits your skin as you see him move around and position himself to your left, leaving you to miss the warmth he was just providing.
"You look like you're having a good time." He states, as he brings his glass to his lips. You watch as the rim rests on them. You watch as the liquid slides between them. And you watch as a smirk pulls in the mischievous dimple that he is so well known for, unintentionally licking your own lips in the process.
"Sorry… what were you saying?" You ask, attention moving back to his gaze and finding those glistening green irises already locking in on your eyes.
"Enjoying yourself?" He chuckles in response to your question, leaving your heart pounding with embarrassment.
"I am!" You exclaim, quicker than anticipated, clearly not playing it cool like you believe you usually do.
"Good." He replies simply.
"Are you?"
"I am." He nods, his eyes quickly flickering down your body, before switching their focus back to the bar, creating a warmth between your legs, and you try desperately not to squirm.
"Good." You reply, with a giggle, finally taking the sip of margarita that has unknowingly been sitting in front of you for a few minutes. "So we're both enjoying ourselves."
He chuckles along with you, shaking his head as he throws back his second shot. He swallows it harshly, drawing your eye to the way his Adam's apple bobs with the consumption of the liquor. You notice his body begin to turn towards you, and as you glaze up his neck to his gorgeous face, a lustful expression falls over it. His brows narrow, and deviancy sparks in his eyes, turning them to a deep, enticing emerald.
"Want to enjoy each other now?"
"Sure, that-" You begin to respond, but your eyes begin to travel down to his lips, noticing how his teeth dig into the bottom one. His look of determination makes you wonder if there's a more devious meaning behind it, and that thought alone causes an extreme yearning between your legs. "Wait… what do you mean?"
He leans against the bar, his tattoo-covered forearm resting on top, as the palm of his right hand gently slides over your hip and draws you closer with the mildest press of his fingertips against your dress.
"YN, I just had one of the best nights of my fucking life! I want to celebrate. Really celebrate."
"And… how-... umm… how do you want to really celebrate?" You chuckle nervously, every hair on your body standing straight, every nerve on high alert.
"I can show you. If you want me to." He utters, almost a whisper, barely audible in the jumble of conversations surrounding you, but loud enough that it sends the coldest shiver down your spine. He leans closer, his body following along until you are only inches apart. "And considering how tightly your thighs are clenched together right now… I think you do."
Your mouth instantly drops open, and if he wasn't actually correct, and those contracted muscles weren't holding you upright, your legs would have buckled beneath you.
"C'mon." He whispers, softly running two fingers down your arm and grabbing your hand, pulling your body to follow him.
"Harry, wait." You manage to get out, surprisingly, considering the daze he's just put you in. "This… is your party..."
"Yeah." He states, shrugging so casually as he turns back to look at you. "So?"
"We can't just leave!"
Harry stops his trek, along with your heart. He swivels around, the most salacious smirk wide across his face, and to your surprise, you manage to clench your core even tighter.
He leans down to your ear, his lip barely grazing the bottom, his breath steady but thick.
"Who said anything about leaving?"
An exhale releases all the air held in your lungs, leaving you unsure whether it is the margaritas or his suggestive statement that's making your head spin.
He turns back and maneuvers through the crowd of people that have come to congratulate and party with him. But he seems to be a man on a mission.
Through the dim lights and the loud thumps of the music filling the room, you somehow find yourself looking at a staircase leading up the the second floor of the venue.
"Just us?" You hear Harry ask the security staff member guarding the way.
"Yes, Mr. Styles." He responds with a quick nod.
Without hesitation, Harry leads you up, each step building the anxious anticipation inside of you. It's not even clear what may be waiting for you at the top, but if Harry's apparent determination is any indication, it won't be boring.
As you reach the landing, you do a quick scan of your surroundings, seeing a couple of purple velvet sofas pushed against the wall. He takes you further in, letting go of your hand and placing both of his large palms on the thick, black railing in front of him. You stand at his side, copying his stature, though feeling the sweat of your hands being transferred to the metal within them.
The neon flashing of lights is the only thing brightening the venue, as the music sounds and provides a rhythm for the rest of the attendees to move their bodies to. You feel Harry's closest arm glide its way across your back, settling itself on your opposite hip, and squeezing with enough firmness to tell you he wants to be gentle with you, but also wants not to be.
The rest of his figure moves along behind you, pulling you closer to him, as if your bodies had an unretractable magnetic connection. The warmth of his lips suddenly hits right below your ear, causing every muscle you have to practically melt under that simple touch.
"Harry…" You utter, unsure if you've been heard over the sound of the new song beginning to play. "People could see us…"
"Doubtful." He mumbles, his breath tickling down your neck. "No one's looking anyway."
Another kiss moistens your skin, and your head falls backwards to him, resting against his broad, strong shoulder, encouraging him to continue his tantalizing exploration.
He grazes your hips with his palms, running them up and down the tops of your thighs, letting out a heavy exhale when he stops at the hem of your dress. His fingertips tease the edge, sliding around to the front. One hand lifts up to your waist, while the other glides around to your inner thigh, and you could swear your panties are already soaked.
"Do you like this?" He whispers in your ear, and with the state of daze he currently has you in, all you can manage is a subtle nod. "Tell me. Do you like this?"
"Y-yes." You breathe out.
"Do you want more?" He asks in the lowest tone he's ever spoken in, barely needing to convince you that he'll give you whatever you want.
"Yes." You reply, anticipation thick in your stomach.
His fingers run up and under your dress, and you thank yourself for picking the shorter of your two options when you were getting ready for the party.
You attempt to push him back a few paces to the closest velvet sofa for some privacy, but he stands solid in place and you stretch your neck to get as good of a look at him as you can.
"Stay." He states simply, not a demand that you couldn't reject, but the way his tone hit your soul, you can't even imagine refusing him of almost anything he wanted.
Suddenly your body jumps, as you feel mild pressure slowly moving up the center of your panties.
"Soaked." Harry whispers. "Didn't realize I got you this wet, this fast."
His teeth begin to nibble on your earlobe, as his fingers snap the fabric of your underwear, causing you to let out the most pathetic and needy whimper.
"Harry… please." You whine, desperate for something, anything, that he is willing to give you.
"What do you want, YN?"
"Touch me." You reply, your legs already weak at the thought.
He listens, running his index along your center, feeling how slick he's made you. Suddenly, he dips it inside of you, and you worry he could make you cum right here and now. But god you want to feel so much more. You want him to give you so much more.
Slowly, his finger pulls out, but immediately glides back in, accompanied by another, pumping them both in unison, and sending your head into a spin.
"Do you want more?" He asks into your ear.
"Yes." You barely reply, hoping with all you have that he heard your response.
He adds one more finger, and the trio pick up their pace as his thumb puts the perfect amount of pressure on your clit.
"Oh my god." You whine, feeling a sensation ripple through your body. Nothing you've done to yourself, alone with just your thoughts of him, could ever compare to the feeling of what he's doing to you now.
In and out, his fingers pump, and you're sure if the music suddenly stopped, the noise of his motions would echo from wall to wall.
"You're so tight." He utters. "Don't know if you'd be able to handle my cock."
Just the mention of that word has you moaning, so you reach your arm up to grab onto the back of his neck, and you tilt your head towards him.
"I want that."
"You want what?" He asks, quickening his pace, and halting your words until you swallow the lump that's caught in your throat.
You look down, scanning the crowd for any prying eyes, only to find everyone distracted by their own activities below. Although, at this moment, you aren't sure if that matters to you. If that would stop you.
"I want your cock." You admit, using your free hand to push in between your two bodies and palm over his hard bulge, the feeling of his thick girth creating an even deeper yearning for it.
"Fuck." He growls, his cock twitching under the fabric of his pants.
The emptiness created as his fingers leave your body almost has you wishing you hadn't made any other request, but as you feel his waistband tug down, and the bare skin of his cock as it springs out from its confines and back into your hand, you get wetter than you've been in any moment before.
A strong thigh parts your legs, the back of your dress inches up, and as you feel his long, thick cock glide between them and coat itself in your wetness, Harry lets out a deep, rumbling growl. He runs one hand up your spine and pushes slightly on your back, getting you to bend over a bit and prop yourself up with your hands gripping the railing.
There's never been a desperation so intense as now, as you feel Harry's tip tease your entrance. You've never wanted anything more than the sensation of him pushing into you, stretching you out, giving you everything you've ever fantasized about.
"Think you can fit me inside there?" He asks, the smugness more enticing than you could have imagined possible. But his words, his touch, his everything is overwhelming and rendering you speechless. Then you hear Harry hum, as if knowing your inability to reply, and answering it for himself. "I think you can."
And just like that, he slips in. Slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size each time he pushes in a little further. Filling you completely with every inch he goes deeper, until all you feel is him. Until all you know is him.
"Oh my god." You moan out, unaware if it has been drowned out by the music and chatter of everyone else.
He quickens his pace slightly, and your hold on the railing tightens, not only to steady yourself, but also to possibly disguise your actual activities as simply enjoying the rhythm of the song.
"All these people… and no one knows what we're doing up here." Harry grunts as he thrusts into you, drawing out another, yet much heavier, moan from your chest. It's followed by a pleased groan from behind you, the sound almost as good as any song he's ever sung. "But I wouldn't care if they did… if they saw how well you're taking me… and if they heard much you love it."
"Harry…" You whine, as an extreme sensation builds in your core, feeling every nerve peek, alerting you to the fact that at any moment now, you'll be completely taken over by the intense amount of pleasure he's giving you. "I need to-"
"No." He states sternly.
"Please!" You beg, all dignity being tossed aside.
"Not yet." He replies, and all of a sudden, you feel hollow. Something is missing, and as you feel yourself clear out from the heightened state of a daze you've been in since you reached that second level of the venue, you realize his glorious cock is no longer inside of you.
"What-" You begin, stepping back and turning around to face him, finding his teeth digging hard into his bottom lip, creating an even stronger desire to have him fill the gap again.
"I need to fuck you harder, and faster." He explains grabbing both hips as he backs up and lowers down to take a seat on the sofa. "And I need to watch you when you cum all over my cock."
A shallow breath makes its way out between your lips at his statement, and you slowly lower yourself to straddle his lap, feeling a throb inside yourself as you feel another underneath you.
Your hips begin to grind on him, hoping to create an impatience in him as strong as the one in you. You cup his cheeks within your palms and bring your lips to his, smiling against them as they part and release a deep moan. You move to kiss his jaw, letting the stubble tickle your skin and you make your way down his neck. His hands begin to roam your body, exploring more than they had been able to when standing at the railing. They grip your back, your waist, and settle at your hips, gripping just tight enough to guide them back and forth.
"All I've thought about tonight… is having you like this." You hear him utter, the words hitting deep into the pit of your stomach. "Hell, all I think about most nights is… fuck… is having you like this!"
You pull back, your eyes immediately locking in on his, as if your bodies are confessing their deepest desires to each other in a secret, seductive language. Without a word, you push up on your knees, hovering over and inviting him back inside of you, where you want him the most. One of his hands holds his cock steady as the other remains on you, helping you to lower back down onto him. In this position, you can feel him ever more, much to your surprise considering he filled you so well just moments ago.
"Then fuck me how you've been wanting to." You state, your focus still fully on him.
As soon as he's given that permission, both palms squeeze tighter to your body, pulling you down on his cock as if to meld your bodies together.
"Oh god." He exclaims, throwing his head backwards to rest on the sofa, dropping his mouth open as you begin to bounce.
Almost instantly, with the new depth he's hitting, you feel your body reignited and a release drawing near.
"Harry, this is…" You mumble, the pleasure hindering a complete coherent sentence. "It's… how…"
"Tell me, baby." He replies, holding you down as he starts to thrust up into you, leaving you unable to feel anything other than him.
"This is how… oh my-… I've been wanting you… to fuck me, too…"
"F-... fucks sake!" He exclaims, no longer holding back his vigor as he goes as fast and gets as deep as he possibly can, causing moans to burst out from both of you.
"Harr-... I'm gon-..." You whine, trying to plead with him to get you over the edge and fall into a pool of ecstasy. The sight of his hair becoming messy with sweat, the feel of his hands holding you down, the taste of his skin on your lips, the smell of his cologne exuding off his chest, the sound of his breathy moans in your ear. He has completely taken over all of your senses, and you know this is the best experience you've ever had.
"Say it, YN. Look at me and say it." He growls, and as your eyes find his, the amount of lust in his begins to push you off the ledge.
"I'm gonna cum."
"Where?"
"On your cock!" You blurt, the level of volume coinciding with the intensity of your desperation. "I'm gonna cum on your cock."
"Do it." He commands, and with his permission, you immediately let go, completely melting into him as that desired ecstasy rips through your entire body.
Your face falls into the crook of his neck, only leaving enough room to draw in some shallow, labored breaths. You can feel Harry squirm beneath you, his stride becoming less rhythmic with each stroke into you, his chest rising and falling in the same, unsteady way.
"YN… if I can't cum inside you, tell me now, 'cause I'm… fuck, I'm so close."
Your head lifts and pulls away, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, pupils blown and a glaze covering them. You lean down to his ear, letting your breath puff gently over his skin.
"Cum inside of me, Harry." You whisper, placing a kiss right below his ear.
"Y-yeah? You want my cum?" He fumbles, his breathing becoming more random with every sloppy thrust. "I'll give you… f-fucking all of it!"
Harry grips tighter, bouncing you on himself with a determination you aren't sure if you've ever seen before. He lets out a moan so gritty you know it originated deep in his chest. The sound alone could have you orgasming again if it drew out a few seconds longer. It's accompanied by one last thrust of his hips and a powerful, pleased throbbing of his cock, as his cum coats your walls.
If the dj wasn't blasting anything through the speakers, the sound of your synchronized, labored breaths would be enough to fill the room. You sit up straighter, still straddling Harry's lap, and you finally take in the mess of a man in front of you. His head still rests back on the sofa, his eyes now shut, and a blissful smile stretched across his face.
"That's one way to finish a tour." You chuckle, pushing your palms against the fabric of the shirt now sticking to the drizzle of sweat on his chest.
His palms shoot up to your face, holding it so gently, but with an untapped passion behind his eyes. They flicker to your lips and he dives in for a taste, running his tongue along to part them, and sighing as your own tongue dances along. A pop sounds out as you pull apart, with just enough room for an inhale of air, and he rests his forehead against yours.
"And cheers to the next one."
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Text
Yandere Sanji vs Yandere Zoro with a naive reader who has every flirt just go over their head. Including by drunks at a bar- and maybe those two have enough and decide sharing is the best way to get fast results?
Ours To Take~..
Humming softly, you stared at the words in your book with a smile while occasionally admiring the beautiful sky. Nothing really concerned you that much and everything was fine! Well you mean..zoro and sanji were acting rather strange lately to you but the thought of them having any interest in you completely flew over your head.
Why would they? Sanji flirts with literally anything that has boobs, and Zoro is well..Zoro!
A rather loud and ‘romantic voice’ snapped you out of your thoughts and your reading as you blinked.
“Y/N-SWAAAANN!!!~ i have another drink for you my dear!”
You chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the man who was running towards you with heart shaped pupils and a tray with your favorite drink..again.
“Uh sanji?..i haven’t even finished the one you gave me just thirty minutes ago!” You laughed softly. Referring to the drink on the railing he’d made you so you wouldn’t ‘die of thirst’ and because his beloved Y/N needed to be pampered.
Sanji then grinned, dramatically getting down one knee like he was bowing to you. “Oh but my lovely Y/N..you’ll need backups! And…” he then stood up and got rather close to you with a smile, the smell of smoke filled your nostrils from his cigarette and you fought back the urge to scrunch your nose from the contact of the smoke. He smiled and kissed your hand.
Huh..weird..but then again he did that with every girl! Right..?
You stared into his sea blue eyes awkwardly and then gave a friendly smile. “Oh..well thanks I guess Sanji!” You Saïd while you turning back to your book. Sanji felt a pang in his heart as he sighed.
He plastered on a smiled and slowly walked away..almost like he was sad or disappointed. You glanced up at him curiously from your book but brushed it off while he sulked in the kitchen without you knowing of course.
A few minutes passed by and the nice breeze passed, slowly flowing through your hair. The pages of your book started to scatter and you scoffed, quickly book marking it and stretching.
The faint sound of footsteps caught your attention.
“Hm…must be Nami or Luffy..”
You thought as you sipped the first drink Sanji had given you.
Suddenly then, your book was about to fall off the railing and into the deep sea. Panicked, your eyes widened as you you reached out for it but then saw a rather large and masculine hand catch the book with little ease. You then felt a strong hand on your hip from behind.
The sudden warm sensation on your skin caused you to turn around to the person who just saved your book.
Storm grey eyes looked back at you and silence fell upon the both of you.
“..Hey..be careful next time.”
A deep monotone voice said to you almost quietly. Looking up you saw no one other than the green haired swordsman himself, Zoro.
Giving a soft yet platonic smile and gently took the book out of his hand.
“Hah, thanks Zoro! That book Robin gave me was almost gone!” You Saïd as you sat the book down on your side table you got for yourself to set your drinks on.
He stared into your eyes for a moment and made a grunting sound. “Yea..maybe try to set it on the table next time?..”
“Yea i don’t know why I didn’t do that in the first place..”
You Saïd with a blink, trying to make it seem like you were actually pondering instead of slowly trying to scoot away from zoro because he was in your space bubble for whatever reason..
Suddenly his grip seemed to tighten on you, causing you to glance down at his hand and then up at him. He slowly loosened his grip and rubbed circles with his thumb on it, trying to be as gentle as he could.
Your eyebrows couldn’t help but raise in confusion.
“Uh hey zoro why is your-”
“Did Nami tell you when we’re docking on the next island?..”
Narrowing your eyes you just gave up and leaned your back on the railing as he stood in front of you, one hand on the railing and the other on your hip.
“Hmm…she said in about an hour..”
He stared at you intently for a moment.
“Well are you heading anywhere when we dock?..”
“..no, I think shopping can wait until tomorrow”
You then grin as you get an idea. What if you invited a few of your friends to lighten the mood with Zoro and Sanji? It was perfect!
Nothing could happen to ruin the night!…
Right?
You then look up at Zoro with an encouraging smile as you got off the railing.
“Oh! I have an idea..what if we went to the bar together once we dock on the island? I know you would love a drink..” you said playfully hitting zoros shoulder in which he responded with a scoff and a smug smile you always saw him with.
“I’ll even invite Sanji and the others too!”
His smile then immediately disappeared and the glimmer you saw in his eyes faded. He grumbled a reply and pulled away from you rather quickly. Almost seeming to storm off like he was annoyed or angry at something…maybe specifically even someone?..
huh that’s weird..!
You just shrugged his obvious annoyance off and sipped your drink while hot summer sun made your skin warm up and glow.
.
.
.
.
You stretched as you felt the ship dock on a new island, a grin spread across your face as you finally stepped foot on land for the first time in weeks.
It was a little after sunset by now and you went over to get Sanji and Zoro to get some drinks, the others respectfully had other things to do or had shops to attend so it was just you three.
On the way to the local bar you saw a few miles ahead, Sanji kept blabbering on about some romantic things and complimenting you non stop for sone reason.
You respectfully said a thank you and went on to another topic in the conversation, causing the both of them to frown or narrow their eyes at you.
Sitting down in one of the seats at the bar you smiled at the bar tender and ordered some drinks, after you started some small talk with zoro who kept staring at you intently or seeming to move closer. You just would raise an eyebrow and ignore it.
A hand on your thigh stopped you from finishing your sentence as you slowly turned over your shoulder to see a man who was obviously drunk, he slowly crept his hand up to your inner thigh and you just stared, asking the man what he was doing.
“Oh nothing sweet-cakes..you just have such a fucking good body..couldn’t help myself.” He slurred, his hands slowly sliding under your shirt. Your eyes widened and you were about to do something when a hand grabbed the guys arms rather roughly.
So rough that it was turning red, causing the man to hiss in pain. He turned toward the one who had grabbed his so aggressively and growled.
“What’s the big idea asshole?” He spat while glaring at the swordsman with good instincts.
Before anything else could even happen, the man suddenly had a foot on his back. Sanji said nothing as the drunk man stumbled and groaned from the kick.
“Come with us.”
The sound of Zoro sheathing his bloody swords rang through Sanji’s ears while the smell of smoke filled the swordsman’s nostrils.
Sanji’s eyes were covered by a shadow while he sighed, almost clutching his cigarette.
The corpse before the two pirates was cut up and brutally kicked.
“This is never going to work..” Zoro heard the cook mutter while he threw the corpse in a near by dumpster.
“….”
The two men eyes then both locked, giving each other a knowing look. They both absolutely loathed the idea but..
“We should work together marimo..”
“…and why in hell would we do that cook?”
“Use your brain moss head…it’s clearly obvious that neither of us are making any progress with them..so maybe the results might go faster if we try to win them over together..”
He thought about the idea for a split second..
“Fine. Just don’t screw it up..got it curly brows?”
“Yea whatever mosshead just try not to intimidate my beloved Y/N to much..”
“What’s taking them so long out there?..” you mumbled to yourself as you sipped your drink. Surely a talk with that man couldn’t have taken that long right? It was getting late and the bar was even about to close.
The sound of the back ally doors opening and shutting back suddenly caught your attention as you you jump a little from the sudden noise while slowly turning around to indeed see the swordsman and cook of the crew.
Smiling while turning around in your chair you greeted them.
“Hey guys..what took so long?..the bars about to close-”
Without another word you felt arms wrap around you and the smell of Sanjis cologne seeming to fill the air.
Strong hands slowly slid on your shoulders and squeezed them gently before wrapping around your collarbone and rubbing the area gently. The feeling of calloused fingers massaging your skin and of a chin resting on top of your head made your skin tingle and shiver..just what were they trying to do..?
Slowly moving your body to get out out of their embrace, you had enough of their touch for a day but the two pairs of arms only tightened around you immediately.
“Guys? What are You doing??…whats going on with you guys today..?”
You said with a sigh while trying to gently push away from them away again.
This only caused zoro to scoff and turn your head close enough to his so he could kiss you passionately, his tongue licking your bottom lip slowly while his hands slid down to your waist and giving a light squeeze.
“Your such an idiot sometimes.”
He said bluntly with a hint of annoyance.
You then felt something wet on your shirt and looked down..was that blood..?
Now taking a look at the both of them you saw that their clothes had a decent amount if blood on them. Eyes widening, your breath hitched.
“Um..guys what’s that on your clothes?..”
They both stayed silent and sanji just gave a loving smile, lifting your chin up as he gave you another passionate kiss.
Starting to feel a lot of things..like unheard..uncomfortable and most of all..unsafe…? you tried to push away from but only got neck kisses from zoro while he gripped you tighter.
Sanji leaned his lips close to your lips to whisper against them, his voice soothing yet so..off putting..
“Shh Y/N my dear…you wouldn’t understand so we made our feelings clear…you’re ours to take now after all~…”
Hope you guys like this!! It was honestly so fun to right and I loved it! Hope you did too 🌸❤️ thank you to the person who requested it! I honestly love writing zoro and sanji or the straw hats in general because I’m in love with their characters lol-
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royalarchivist · 3 months
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Ramon had a cute idea for the Huevitos (members of Fit's community) to fill the #ramonbday tag with art and kind messages so he can show them to Fit for his birthday (February 1st), so here's my contribution! I have over 800 Fit-related clips, so it was hard to choose just a few fun moments from stream :'D
Even though the QSMP server won't be open until February 3rd, we still have a few more days to share messages, art, etc. – so if you'd like to post something for Ramon to potentially include in Fit's birthday surprise, make sure to post it by January 31st and use the tag #ramonbday!
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[ Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]
Fit: I can't believe I'm a homosexual now.
FitMC 2023 - 2024 Highlights
Vegetta: Leonarda, give me the picture.
Fit: Leonarda, you should give him a picture.
Vegetta: It's for saving your life!
Fit: [Picks up the photo she dropped] Oh, now I have it. [Sees its a photo of Vegetta and Melissa in their stripper outfits] Oh. Oh my.
Fit: It's a life experience Tubbo, you know? Aren't you glad you–
Tubbo: "Life experience" deez nuts, you bald bastard.
Fit: Ok, I'm looking through the bars– There's like, yeah–
Pac: [Falls off the wall] AAAAA–
Fit: [Dumping his wild cats in the Bakery] I'll just– I'll just release them in here. Screw it. What's the worst that could happen?
[The next day]
The big cats are still, uh– [Sees the cats mauling the Baker] Oh my god. They do NOT like the Baker
Jaiden: Fit, you're just a guy, right?
Fit: I'm just a dude. I'm just like– I'm just like the generic RPG protagonist. Like, human male, warrior. Like, it's– I'm as vanilla as you can get
-
Fit: Sneeg– shut up, I'm doing gay roleplay right now!
Fit: Tubbo, if you want to disable mines, you are disrespecting the entire Hispanic community.
Fit: What are you doin' staring at me, Baldy? Yeah, you think you're hot sht?
[The Binary Monster shows up]
Fit: OH, FCK–
Fit: The oldest anarchy server in Minecraft.
Fit: The youngest gay roleplay server in Minecraft.
Fit: [While playing "Hide and Seek" with Ramon] If he moves, then I know that was the spot.
Ramon: [Stares at him as the Metal Gear Solid "discovered by an enemy" vwing! sound plays]
Fit: [Cackles] WHERE YOU GOIN' BOY? WHERE YOU GOIN' BOY?
Fit: To be a turtle in the Arctic, you hate to see it. Yeah, you know this turtle is... not so different from me. It's living in a place that's trying to KILL it.
Tubbo: [To Pac] Just lay down. [Starts Casualonas-ing] This is for you.
Fit: [Immediately equips his weapon]
Tubbo: This is for you, king.
Pac: [Laughs] Fit - you see this?
Fit: [Shoots Tubbo, who starts screaming] I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Uh-
Tubbo: Ok, ok, well he–
Fit: Misfire, misfire, misfire!
Tubbo: He wasn't- he wasn't- OW OW OW!
Fit: Misfire!
Fit: Sometimes- it's not about doing the right thing, Phil – it's about doing the more entertaining thing. Right?
Phil: PFTTTTT–
Fit: They banned my ass. They're like, "Why are you talking to Pac like that?" That's unacceptable on this family-friendly Christian Minecraft server (TM). Like– "We can't be having any of that." "Can't be having any of THAT."
Cucurucho: [Slowly turns to stare at Fit while Pac is talking to him]
Fit: [Silently starts cracking up]
Pac: Ok Cucurucho, I'm gonna be waiting for your response
[Fit putting up art that Ramon drew]
Foolish: Boo it if it's bad!
Fit: Heyyyyyy! That's actually –
Foolish: Oh! Wait, that's– That's actually pretty good, what the fck.
Fit: Ramon, you weren't supposed to actually try. This is incredible!
[They both laugh]
Pac: Yeah, yeah! I was–
Tubbo: Everyone goes through their dick phase.
Fit: Yeah...
Pac: Yeah, everyone does.
Fit: Oh? Oh– is that so, Tubbo? Yeah?
Tubbo: Everyone- everyone–
Fit: When did you go through your dick phase? [Laughs]
Tubbo: I'd argue I'm in my dick phase right now.
Fit: Uh, you know, speakin' of spruce– you know Bruce Lee, right?
Phil: Yeah?
Fit: If Bruce Lee was a plant, he'd be Spruce Tree.
Phil: [Disappointed grumbling]
Fit: [Laughs]
[Fit gets kicked off the server]
Fit: [Laughs even harder]
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tubborucho · 5 months
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“Exactly where the third wheel should be: in the middle!” Tubbo
“The gap between you and Pac is not for Jesus, it’s for me” Tubbo
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dapperapple · 2 months
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parts of live action ATLA that I can think of right now and thought were particularly well done include:
- opening scene with the earthbender (he fought hard and died brutally, it sets the tone well for this world at war)
- the air nomad genocide (it feels so different when we have to see it for ourselves, jeez louise)
- Kyoshi fighting through Aang (metal as hell)
- the cave of two lovers (gay Oma and Shu!! red and blue Oma and Shu!! hell yeah!! I also just like how they had Sokka and Katara in there instead, and their familial love got them out)
- that earth kingdom soldier talking to Iroh (more nuanced than just "corrupt soldier punch old man", also "he was only 19" got to me, great acting bro)
- Zuko talking to Iroh at Lu Ten's funeral (Zuko saying what he's supposed to but then instead of leaving he shares a memory of his cousin and just sits with his devastated, unresponsive uncle so he isn't alone, oh my god I cried)
- Seeing Zuko's father tell him he's banished (he looks so young and scared and he echos what his mother must've taught him about the weak being capable of growing stronger)
- Zuko's crew being the 41st division (I love that it ties the crew directly to the action that upset Ozai and led to Zuko's banishment, plus it gives the crew a pretty damn good reason to respect him despite him being a bratty asshole sometimes)
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creweemmaeec11 · 1 year
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Skimming off the top
"Relax, I'm not about to chop your head off," the villain mused, rounding their desk to instead lean back against it. They eyed the henchmen in the chair before them, "But I know you've been skimming money off the top. Don't dig yourself a deeper hole by denying it. Just tell me why,"
Despite the villain's calm demeanour and even reassurance, henchman was undoubtedly shaking. He knew this had been a bad idea. He was about to pay for it.
"I... I needed the money-"
"For *what*?" The villain pressed.
"My... my wife she-"
"Diana? Is she alright?"
Henchman was shocked his boss even remembered her name, but he forced himself to press on, "no, or- yes- well, kind of? She uh, she's pregnant,"
"That's amazing news," the villain replied. They sounded genuinely happy, "Are you worried about not having enough to properly start a family? You could have spoken to me about a raise,"
"No no! It's, well, there have been some complications in her pregnancy. The pressure ruptured her appendix-"
"My god, is she okay!?" Villain gasped in horror.
"Yes! Yes she and the baby are fine, but the surgery was expensive so I'd been skimming to try and pay it off,"
Villain sighed, "why didn't you just tell me in the first place?" They asked. They seemed genuinely confused.
"I- what?" Henchman stammered.
The villain rounded the desk again, sitting back down on their chair, "how much more do you need to pay it off? My calculations tell me you've skimmed about $2000 already, correct?"
"I- yes, sir. I still need $6000," he replied. What was happening here?
Suddenly villain pulled out a chequebook, "Don't get me wrong, you're still in trouble for skimming behind my back. I'm no tyrant, if you need money desperately like this, just come to me next time. We are grown-ups; we can work something out. For now, we can take it off your paychecks until it's been repaid, once this has been settled," villain explained, before standing back up and handing over a check signed for $6000. "Let me know if you need any more, okay?"
Henchman was stunned, "I- I- yes- yes sir- I- thank you-"
"You're welcome," the villain nodded, "That being said. I don't want to see you skimming again. Got it?"
"Absolutely sir, it will never happen again,"
"Good," Villain nodded, sitting back down into their large office chair, "now go home,"
The henchman's eyes widened, "but I thought I wasn't getting fired!"
"You're not," villain smiled, "but your pregnant wife just had surgery. You're on mandatory leave until her doctor clears her health, got it?"
The worker's eyes widened even more, "I- yes, yes sir. Thank you so much,"
The villain nodded, looking down at their desk again, scribbling something else on a different paper. After a moment, they glanced up to see the henchman hadn't moved. They raised an eyebrow as if to say "why are you still here?"
It was because the worker felt like he couldn't leave. He had expected such punishment, but this was...
He forced his legs to stand and walked out, heading straight home. His wife would be thrilled.
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beanghostprincess · 3 months
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I will forever love seeing Luffy and Nami holding Zoro's swords. He's so protective of those three but it's not even because he fears something might happen to them, but because he's scared something might happen to the crew and himself if he doesn't have them with him. They're like extra limbs. The ones he uses to fight and protect and breathe. He feels uneasy whenever his swords aren't around him, and that is just a fact. You can't deny that he feels comfort in having them by his side at all times, knowing that he'll be able to protect the crew from any dangers. They're tied to his heart and soul in a way that if he loses sight of them he might actually lose himself too. So he does not enjoy seeing his swords in somebody else's hands. They can disappear, he will find them. They can run away, he will follow. They can break, he trusts them not to but if they do, he will keep going carrying their bond with him still. But he doesn't like seeing them in somebody else's hands because those are his swords. His limbs. His heart. His soul. It's just not right. It never feels right. But.
But.
But sometimes Luffy acts like he knows what he's doing and actually asks for permission instead of just taking what he wants. As if crossing Zoro's boundaries would be unforgivable, when he knows Zoro would give him anything he wanted to take from him. But he asks. He asks, with a careful, polite, deep voice Zoro isn't used to hearing. But it always ends with the softest of smiles and the petition reaches a place inside of Zoro's heart that he just knows has also touched his swords. So he lets him, because how could he not, and he runs his fingers through all of them. Amazed. Astonished. Respectfully talking to them as if they could hear him. And they can. Zoro knows they hear and feel and love and crave and long for his captain's touch. He knows, because he does too. Because who wouldn't? Luffy holds them in a way he never holds anything else- Carefully. Like they aren't his. Like befriending somebody he fears might reject him. Like taking hold of Zoro's heart and holding him so gently in case he might break him. He worships them as if he weren't the god in this relationship. He looks handsome, too. Not pretty. Not cute. Handsome. Mature. His hat covers his adventurous gaze but leaves his mischievous grin for the whole world to see. And yet, the swordsman trusts him enough. Without any look or any word. He knows Luffy's face by heart, he realizes, now that he can picture his eyes quite too perfectly under his hat. His skin glistens under the sun and his tender fingers hold the sword with so much clumsiness it looks dumb. He doesn't know how to hold them, yet they don't want to move away from him. It's clumsy but it takes over them. Maybe it's his haki. Maybe it's the effect the future king of the pirates has. Zoro thinks it's just him. Luffy. And his heart stops the second Luffy smiles, as if he had just heard the sword respond to him. He wants to kiss him. Bite him. Let him bite back and draw blood and eat him. Let him hold him the way he holds the swords but tighter. Closer. Maybe he's in love. Zoro. With Luffy. It's not a maybe. Who is he trying to trick? He knows he is in love. With the way he smiles and the way he holds and the way he wants but respects and loves. It's funny like that, the fact that Luffy keeps being so careful when Zoro would let him tear his heart apart and eat it if he so desired. It's funny that the swords love him with such gentleness when they often demand power. Perhaps kindness is the most powerful weapon of all or, at least, Luffy's most powerful skill. Zoro hates it when somebody else holds them because they don't own them. They don't own him. He doesn't even own his swords, anyway. Nobody can. They're his the same way he's theirs, just with a bit more dominance and respect. But Luffy isn't owning them. He's praying to them. Talking to them. Befriending them. Loving them. And they would bow to him if he so desired. Zoro knows they would, as fierce as they are and violent as they seem and as sharp as they cut. They'd bow to him because Zoro would too. The uneasiness does not exist when Luffy is the one to hold them because, if Zoro had to give out his soul for somebody to take care of, that would be Luffy. And if he has to be unprotected. Naked. Bare in front of a thousand soldiers. He will if it's Luffy the one fighting instead.
Sometimes Nami wants to hold them just to feel what it's like to be in Zoro's shoes. It's a stupid reason. He refuses to let her do it as an instinctive reaction at first. She doesn't seem as interested in following the protocol as Luffy is, but she knows where to stop and she knows what to say to get on Zoro's nerves, anyway. She's equally as fierce. Equally as sharp. He won't let her hold any cursed sword, but it's not like she wants to. She's smarter than that. Careful and respectful but not that interested in the swords and what they mean, more in how they feel. Zoro gets it. Kind of. Somehow. She says something about always letting them eat her precious tangerines, so he should humor her by letting her hold Wado at least. She isn't pushing him. He knows she wouldn't. She's just teasing because she knows. She always knows. She knows he will say yes. Because he always does what she says, although he keeps demanding a bit of respect to not be treated like a dog. But Nami never forces him to do anything. He could refuse. She would give up at some point. But there's just something about her- Stubbornness. Strength. Love. So much love and care and worry and anger. And Zoro likes her. She's selfish, too, like a pirate should be. Stronger than Zoro in the ways that matter. Smarter, too, even if he wouldn't admit it out loud. But she leads the way and he follows, not because that's a dog's job, but because he wants to. He trusts her. Something he never thought he would. But he does. She's smart. She leads the way. She knows where they're going. They somehow are the same and totally different at the same time. Zoro grounds Luffy when he gets lost. Nami leads them both so they won't. So there's something about her curiosity that makes him soften. He never knows exactly why he does what she says. Why he indulges her like that. But it's satisfying, for some reason he refuses to read within himself, the satisfactory and pleased grin on her face when he hands her Wado. She's careful with her. Awful at holding her. Bad posture. Great smile. Horrible movements. Beautiful eyes. It's okay, though, he thinks. Wado likes her because Zoro likes her. Nami loses interest within a minute, complaining about the weight and the sudden realization of "you always have this thing in your mouth" which makes her want to give her back. But she stares at her for a whole minute. It isn't her thing, but her eyes spark when the sword is returned to Zoro. Trust. A smile. Thankfulness. Her bangs are getting a bit longer and one strand of hair gets in the middle of her teasing smirk. She says she prefers her clima-tact, but swords are fine, "I guess". "She's pretty" she says. Zoro thinks she is pretty. Nami. In a way he can't quite describe because he has never really been good at that. But she is. Like a blade. Sharp. But in the right hands this time for her not to cut the ones she loves anymore. She hands him a tangerine next, every time he lets her hold his sword. An exchange. "I give you something that matters. You give me something that matters". Zoro wants to say it's not the same, but the tangerine is sweet. Juicy. His fingers then smell strongly of citrus. Almost as similar as steel. If he can feel Nami's heartbeat in every bite, he wonders if she has been able to hear his in the hilt of his sword. Calm. Peaceful. Safe.
Zoro doesn't like seeing his swords in somebody else's hands because those are his swords. His limbs. His heart. His soul. It's just not right. It never feels right. But.
But sometimes it does.
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quizzical-is · 6 months
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This show is rotating in my mind eternally it's just so good and like everything I love about scifi.
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edscuntyeyeshadow · 3 months
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love the scene in season one where stede’s looking out the window bitching about ed and jack to olu because it just fucking reeks of that common queer experience where we would say/do the gayest/transest shit ever while still being deep in the closet.
girly said “do you think he’s better looking than me?” but didn’t realize he was gay until like 1-2 episodes later. he’s so Real
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inoreuct · 4 months
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thinking about zoro being the crew's main protector.
it’s quite literally his role amongst the straw hats; luffy's captain, usopp's their sniper, sanji cooks, nami navigates, chopper's their doctor, franky's their shipwright, jinbei's their helmsman and brook's their musician but zoro? zoro's their swordsman. zoro’s their guardian. his job is to be the first line of defense and protect everybody else so they can focus on doing their own thing and sure, none of them really need protecting— but they don't have to worry about defending themselves, either, because whoever they can't or don't want to handle zoro will finish up (if he hasn't gotten to them first).
like imagine a bunch of idiots cornering one of the crew (bad idea.) and picking nami because she's the woman without a devil fruit, as opposed to robin (BAD idea.). they've got her surrounded in the dead end of an alleyway and have somehow neutralised her clima-tact and she’s not worried, she’s not.
but against twelve men and with her weapon essentially now just a regular staff, she might be panicking. just a little. she’s gotten a couple of them good enough that they’re down for the count before a chain wrapped around her ankle trips her. it pulls at enough memories, faded but never forgotten, to bring up a sickening wave of fear and anger— and nami decides that she’s had enough of the bullshit.
she takes a deep breath and screams. “ZORO!”
the silence afterwards is deafening. the wind shifts, gently lifting the pieces of hair stuck to her sweaty face, and the men laugh uneasily. one of them yanks hard on the chain and she spits at him, heels scrabbling against the dusty ground even as he starts reeling her in like a fish on a hook. “he can’t hear you, little missy,” he snickers, grin widening the longer nobody shows up.
it’s still on his face when his head slides right off his neck.
blood sprays right before his body crumples like a doll. it takes a second for the others to realise and then the screaming starts— none of them get any farther than three steps before zoro’s cutting them down, swift swings of his sword and almost surgically precise slices rendering them incapacitated if not plain dead.
“sorry i’m late, witch.” the swordsman’s breathing hard, gore dripping off his blades even as he arcs one down and snaps the chain off nami’s leg with a growl. “did they hurt you?”
“no. no, i’m fine,” nami breathes, her smile quivering just a little— not because she’s shaken, no. because she’s pissed.
zoro’s voice is gruff as always, but his hands are careful if not outright gentle as he kneels to inspect her ankle before pulling her to her feet. “stay close,” he mutters, making sure that she’s nodded before cutting them a path through the fray. they bump into chopper next, and the doctor’s out cold over zoro’s shoulder in his regular form by the time sanji joins them to guard their flank. nami’s taken to just using her clima-tact as a bat for now, and it’s admittedly efficient.
she knew zoro would come. he always does. for all that they bicker and snip at each other, zoro has always protected his crew— even when said crew was just three people on what could barely be called a boat. he’d fought for her at arlong park and he fights for her now, his sword slicing over her head at an enemy she can’t see as she ducks low to jam her staff into another’s stomach.
they’ve moved closer to their ship when they find jinbei, then robin, then usopp, then brook and franky, and then zoro’s yelling luff, time to go! and their captain’s launching them all back onto the Sunny with a gleeful cackle that makes nami wheeze a laugh as they land in a mildly painful pile of limbs. somebody’s elbow digs into her ribs and she’s pretty sure that’s sanji’s bony kneecap pressed into her lower back. the swordsman swears as he sets about trying to pry them all apart and luffy seems to be actively fighting him, based on how his cursing’s getting more and more colourful.
behind them, their enemies burn, sliced to pieces. they debrief in the galley and zoro refuses to come away from the door until nami drags him by the ear and sanji threatens to personally shove dessert down his throat. they both know it’s because zoro’s still guarding them from a threat that doesn’t exist anymore.
they know he pretends not to care as much as he does. they know he keeps his words blunt and his swords sharp, but zoro lets luffy hang off him, unfazed, and makes a marginal effort to stick to nami’s budget even when he’s getting booze, and he eats his dessert. every last bit. he lets usopp fire moving targets to slice through so they can both practice. he keeps collateral damage when sparring with sanji to a minimum. he stitches whoever needs it up himself when chopper’s a little too tired.
and when his crew calls, he answers.
(now with a part from nami’s pov!)
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ganondoodle · 6 months
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so, inspired by the warm welcome the captain received with that rough doodle i posted, i made an updated design for Ki'ita as well (basic and with clothes)
i removed the piercings she had bc considering that they spend the majority of their time in arctic waters i think having metal directly in your skin is a bad idea, no matter how thick your blubber is; i also gave her typical white markings a green hue bc ... i liked how it looked and makes them stand out a little more
(i will not repeat what i wrote on the post about the captain but wanted to add a bit of more info about Ki'ita herself)
(i dont have ALL of their backstory done yet but) the captain and Ki'ita worked together in another organization, one in which the father of the captains child also worked at, before being betrayed and barely managing to escape, after which the both of them founded their pirate crew (possible name is the Solar Pirates bc of their solar powered boat stuff); since the captain had her daughter shortly afterwards Ki'ita managed most of the organisational matters at first, including the construction of their base on an abandoned island they had initially fled to
over the years they invented the solar powered ships that allowed them to gain control over a large part of an important trade route, leaving normal ships (mostly) alone but attacking those of hunters and similar, rescuing demons and mutants, even some humans from them, most of which also join the crew and it quickly lead to them becoming their own little community
Ki'ita does not like to spend alot of time among large groups of people, no matter how much she cares about them, and her originally being from norther lands gave her the idea to explore, and if viable, do underground missions in those norther areas to disrupt the infrastructure the hunters had built in recent years and overall keep the crew informed about things that may otherwise stay hidden; with each of their travels her time absent from the base increased but the patience of the captain is wearing thin so its likely a serious talk is underway on Ki'itas third solo mission she nearly died due to entanglement in abandoned nets made by hunters from an unknown material that she could not break, the massive scars on her tail especially come from that, only surviving bc the date they were supposed to return to the crew had passed and the captain grew to worried about her and made the entire crew rush into an emergency search, including the captain herself and her toddler, who were not suited for the cold climate just like the rest of crew, taking a huge risk that Ki'ita still feels ashamed of for causing; they stayed within the base for a whole year afterwards, not just to recover but also as a silent apology, taking time preparing herself to ensure theyd not get into a situation like that again
(before departing on their next mission the captain gifted her a sword with the blade made from the material of the net, a wooden handle, bc of the cold, and a blue wrap around it reminiscent of the captains striking blue teeth; a reminder of what had happened, a means to defend herself when their strength and teeth are not enough, and also a promise to always return again)
the oldest members of the crew know Ki'ita well and treat her like an old friend, among the newer members she has more of a .. cryptic status, the mysteriously absent vice-captain who only appears every few months or so out of thin air, throws a big party, sleeps for a few days and then vanishes again, the only hint to when they will return soon again being the captain getting noticably grumpier
(OC art, Ki'ita, she/they)
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