#I’ll probably elaborate another time but whatever

[aro-with-bad-aim]

As an aroace as well as a hazbin hotel fan, I have a lot to say about the whole shopping Alastor thing.

To me, this whole situation is less about shipping a fictional character and more about people’s general view of aroace people.

I get that aro ace people can be in relationships, I’ve been in one myself. Aro ace is a spectrum and it’s good people know that, but it sucks when it’s only brought up to disregard a characters identity. Shipping isn’t a problem, but it gets to the point where fandoms are hardly about the show itself and are more about all the different romantic situations they can put the characters in. this whole “Alastor situation” really shows how a lot of queer people don’t like aromantic rep, to the point where I’ve seen people say “I just ignore that Alastor is aromantic because I want to ship him” or “I headcannon that he isn’t aroace” (literally not how headcannoning works but whatever). It’s also highlighted the weird hierarchy of sexuality in fandom. Achillien ships are generally loved most, with the most fanart and the most ships in a fandom, with straight ships coming just under and then sapphic ships at the bottom, with not as many people caring about them or about sapphic characters. And then right at the bottom is aromantic and asexual characters, who almost never exist and when they do the fan base generally ignores their identity to draw them fucking half the characters.

there’s nothing wrong with shipping, but it’s strange to me how even in shows where there’s confirmed no romance (the amazing digital circus), the majority of the fan base is torn apart by it. It’s ironic that an obsession with love does this to people

#Aro ace #aroace #asexual #aromantic #hazbin hotel #alastor #sorry I went a bit off topic #I’ll probably elaborate another time but whatever

[quincywillows]

like i remember the vitriol that came out when the mere PREMISE for ballad of songbirds and snakes came out bc it was “about the villain” and wasn’t instead a novella of one of the many cute likeable faves of the masses. i remember how fast people were to tear down the book before it even came out (and still do now). and it’s like look, i get it, suzanne created so many interesting characters that it would be incredible to learn more about and get more content for. but her choosing to write about snow for a prequel isn’t like Romanticizing The Villain or whatever bullshit y’all are claiming as hot takes on twitter -- ballad fits right into the common themes and tone of the series in that its not a romanticization but a reflection on how snow became what we know him as in the original series. both in how he already had some less than charming or healthy traits (just like katniss does -- suzanne is always clear that people are not inherently good nor evil and parallels were drawn between how snow and katniss view the world and think strategically, etc, from the second book), but also in how society and the choices of the greater community in panem created snow. like ballad is a really interesting piece of lore and history and worldbuilding for an already rich and elaborate setting that suzanne created, allowing us to see how that world even came to be and the kind of toxic impact it had on the people surviving in it while still pointing out that those people are human and that everyone has humanity and yet can still cause unfathomable harm to one another based on circumstance and need to survive and pressures of all kinds and like i have lost the plot here now but suzanne is one of the best authors of our time who actually gives a shit about creating layered, nuanced characters and worlds rather than black and white good and evil and unfortunately the hyperpolarization of our hot takes social media culture nowadays just can’t handle her anymore. suzanne im so sorry we don’t deserve your storytelling. anyway i’ll be seated for this movie y’all can skip and keep giving lukewarm takes on twitter to make urself seem so smart for hating a book you probably didnt even actually read

#suzanne collins is one of the only mainstream authors these days who clearly writes for purpose rather than profit #and puts thought into her writing always 100% of the time. but we as a regressing online society are not ready for her anymore #people are so scared of nuance in their media its incredible (derogatory) #the hunger games #ballad of songbirds and snakes #maggie.txt #fandom crit #to the people who are actually looking forward to this film + enjoyed the book i respect YOU

[tasteleeknow-remade]

— koala

pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, roommates to lovers, soft!dom chan. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 4.3k

summary: your roommate is a very physically affectionate person, you're not. after brushing him off over and over it takes him going on a successful date for you to realise maybe the thought of him touching someone else like he did you was worse than anything. clashing love languages, jealousy and mutual pining.

a/n: i hit 500 followers a few days ago so i just wanted to say how grateful i am for the support! i created this sideblog to share a spur of the moment attempt at writing [prompted by the taste performance] and i didn't expect so much positivity. i definitely wouldn't have given it another go and kept writing more otherwise so thank you so much for letting me know you liked it! hope you like this too!

afab!reader. protected intercourse. jealousy. mutual pining. pet names. chan is very physically affectionate, that's the entire premise of this one, they are friends and its playful but reader is awkward about it! he's grabby and he lies on top of her etc.

You hadn’t grown up in the most affectionate family, your parents loved you—you knew that—but you could count the number of hugs you’d received from them on your fingers. You guessed it was for this reason you couldn’t help cringing away from your clingy roommate. Either he had a very different upbringing or he’d just been unaffected by it because he was probably the most physically affectionate person you’d come across in your life. He’d approach you from behind with no warning when you were brushing your teeth, doing the dishes, cooking, whatever it was. His arms would wrap around you, breath tickling your neck as he asked what you were doing, how your day was or announce he was bored. It was never anything important and definitely nothing that needed to be mumbled into your neck. You’d freeze whatever you were doing, waiting for him to let you go. “I’m obviously doing the dishes,” you’d answer prompting him to give a final squeeze before freeing you—wandering away as you recovered. Recently he’d taken to waking you up in the morning by stumbling into your room and collapsing on top of you, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress. If you were lucky enough to be in a position where he hadn’t pinned your arms under him you’d attempt to shove him off you, often a completely hopeless endeavour. He’d free you when he was ready. 

This is where you found yourself now; trapped under him—his face buried in your neck. “I can’t breathe,” you groaned, arms pinned under the covers. One of the unlucky mornings.

“You’re so comfy though, much more than my bed,” his mumbling was barely audible, his voice gruff. It sounded like he’d just woken up and stumbled in here before he’d even fully opened his eyes. You needed a lock on your door. You didn’t know why you hadn’t done that yet. Everytime you found yourself under him like this it seemed like your number one priority in life but then he’d climb off and you’d go about your day, letting the idea slip from your mind every time. 

“Off. Or I’ll scream,” you announced. Often the only way was to yell in his ear. You didn’t particularly like starting your morning with a high pitched scream so you’d use it as a last resort, just the threat was usually enough—thankfully. He rolled off you with a groan. 

“Why are you so mean to me?” 

“Mean to you? You just marched in here and crushed me while I was having the best dream.”

“About?”

“Moving out.” 

“See? Mean.” He rolled onto his side and grinned at you. “Luckily I know it’s all talk, you’d never leave me—you looovee me.” 

“Get out,” you muttered half-heartedly, closing your eyes again. You liked his company. A lot. Despite his clinginess.

You felt the bed move as he sat up. He was silent for a moment before speaking, “I need your help.” You waited for him to elaborate, keeping your eyes closed—still sleepy. “You know more about clothes than me and I’m always wearing the same things so…” He pressed his finger into the middle of your forehead. “Hey, are you listening?” 

You sighed and stretched your arms above your head, accepting you weren’t getting back to sleep. You propped yourself up on your elbows before speaking, “I was listening.” 

“Outfit. I need you to help me pick out an outfit.” 

You rubbed your eyes. “For what?” Your roommate couldn’t care less about clothes, everything he wore was black and he’d often walk around the place with hardly anything on at all. If you hadn’t seen his closet yourself you’d easily believe he owned two outfits total. 

“A date,” he muttered, eyes fixed on where he was fiddling with the embroidery on your blanket. A date… he didn’t go on dates. Your mutual friends always teased him about his total lack of dating life. You’d been on two entire dates in the last six months and he made you seem like a total socialite. His hand waved in front of your face after you’d apparently failed to respond in an appropriate window of time. 

“You’re going on a date?” 

“I am capable of finding someone, believe it or not,” he huffed, looking a little wounded. 

“I just…didn’t think you were…looking.” 

“I wasn’t really…I guess. She just asked me out when I was getting coffee yesterday morning.”

“And you said yes?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You threw your blankets off and climbed out of bed—stumbling to your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth. He was right. He had no reason not to go on a date. You squirted too much toothpaste on your brush and shoved it under the tap. He’d probably said yes because she was pretty, a pretty girl had spotted him in the coffee shop and worked up the courage to ask him out. It made sense. You shoved the toothbrush in your mouth just as Chan appeared in the doorway. 

“So you’ll help?”

You met his eyes in the mirror, he looked nervous—like you might actually say no. You nodded. It took one big step for him to wrap himself around you, mouth pressed to your skin. “Thank you,” he said, clinging to you a little longer than usual. 

“Get off or I’ll change my mind,” you mumbled around your toothbrush, a little toothpaste dribbling down your chin. He finished with his customary final squeeze and then he was gone. Leaving you to wonder what she looked like, this coffee shop girl.

“Is it alright that it’s all black?” he asked, fiddling with his collar. You’d put him in one of his long sleeve collared dress shirts and made him tuck it into some black pants with a belt. It was much more dressed up than his usual t-shirt and sweats look. 

“Yeah, just…” You reached to unbutton the shirt at his sleeves, rolling them up his arms. Your fingers brushed against his skin as you worked. You felt your cheeks warm. “If you roll these up it works for a day date, I think.” He was quiet as you moved to roll his other sleeve, it was rare for you to initiate any physical contact. You should’ve just told him to do this himself but it’d be awkward to stop now. You stood back when you were done, avoiding looking at his face as you inspected your work. He looked…really good. He turned to look in the mirror and fiddled with his sleeves a little before smiling.

“This is really okay?” he asked, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Yeah… yeah it’s okay.” His phone vibrated from where he’d tossed it on the bed, startling you. You grabbed the rejected shirts from the bed to hang them back in his closet while he checked it. 

“It’s her,” he said as you distracted yourself with his clothes. “She’s leaving home now apparently.” 

“You should go then,” you said, hanging one of the shirts back on a hanger. A hand on your shoulder made you jump. Why the hell were you so jumpy? You hung up the shirt and turned to face him, adopting a neutral facial expression. 

“Can I have a good luck hug?” he asked, arms open to receive you.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking?” You couldn’t think of a single time since you’d met when he’d asked you for a hug rather than just attaching himself to you with no warning.

His lips curved up into small smile. “I’m asking.” 

“A short one,” you said, unable to resist rewarding him for his unusual behaviour. 

He pulled you into his chest, the smell of his cologne overwhelming you. You were used to smelling his body wash when he was draped over you. He never wore cologne. You slowly lifted your arms to pat him lightly on the back. “Good luck then,” you muttered, prompting him to loosen his arms around you. Before you could pull away completely his hand moved up to hold the side of your head and his lips pressed gently to your forehead. You held your breath. He’d never done that before. You took a small step back and gave him a quick smile—failing to meet his eyes. Before he could get another word out you dashed from his room to the safety of your own. You sat on the end of your bed until you heard the front door close, falling back to stare at the ceiling as a heavy silence filled the apartment. 

You were struggling to keep your eyes open as you lounged in front of the TV. He’d been gone all afternoon and now it was well past your bedtime. You were working yourself up to accept the fact he probably wasn’t coming home tonight. It must have gone well. You’d been fiddling with your phone all afternoon, contemplating messaging him. What would you say? ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Is she prettier than me?’ ‘Are you going to go back to her place to fuck her?’ ‘When you wrap your arms around her, does she hug you back?’ Hence the phone being buried under the cushion at the other end of the couch, out of your reach. You were delaying going to bed, if you went to bed before he got home, the reality of him sleeping somewhere else—with someone else— would become real. Your eyes were so heavy, it wouldn’t hurt to close them for a little bit…

A warm body pressing you into the couch cushions woke you up, the smell of Chan’s cologne still lingering on his shirt. How long had you been asleep? It was still dark. “What time is it?” you whispered into his ear. 

“Just past 12 I think.” 

Had he fucked her already? Been to her place and fucked the pretty coffee shop girl before coming back here to press his body onto yours? “Get off,” you said, voice just above a whisper now. He played his usual game, ignoring you. You started squirming. “Chan, get off me,” you put as much assertiveness into your tone as you could. He pushed himself up so his weight was off you completely, hovering over you still. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Just get the fuck off me.”

He sat back on the couch, one leg tucked under him so he could keep his body turned towards you as you sat up against the arm rest. You pulled your knees to your chest. 

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” he asked again. 

“Where were you?” 

“We ended up seeing a late movie, didn't start till 10. I texted you.” 

You looked down to the cushion he was sitting on, the one your phone was buried under. 

“I’m going to bed,” you announced, standing up. “Can you get up? You’re sitting on my phone.” He reached under himself, swiping around with his hand. He stood up and flicked the light on before resuming his search. 

“It’s not here.”

You reached under the couch cushion, digging your phone out to discover you had 3 messages—all from him and sent around 10pm. 

“Why is it under there?” he asked, blocking you from moving past him. 

“Move.”

“What are you so cranky for, hm?” He went to grab you, like he usually did whenever he pulled you against his chest. You grabbed his wrist. 

“Just—” you sucked in a breath. “Will you just fucking move?” you snapped. 

He frowned, stepping aside so you could escape to your room—shutting the door a little too hard behind you. Why were you so angry? The thought of him touching you like he usually did after touching her. It felt wrong. You climbed into your bed, pulling the blankets up to your shoulders. Guilt started leaking into your anger the longer you sulked, morphing it into anxiety. You hadn’t even asked him how it went, if he had a nice time. It was a big deal for him, going on a date. You stared at your phone on your bedside table for a while before giving in and snatching it. You opened the messages he’d sent earlier. 

i think your good luck hugs must have magical properties it’s going very well 

she complimented my outfit

gonna be home late we’re catching a movie 

You climbed out of bed, throwing your phone down onto the mattress behind you. Fuck it. When you opened your door, the lights were all off—he must’ve gone to bed. You’d have to wake him then. You shut your door behind you, again—a little too hard. You marched to his closed door, hesitating with your hand on the doorknob. This was crazy, you were being crazy. Why were you being crazy? You dropped your hand just as the door swung open. Chan stood on the other side wearing only his sweats. He was silent for a moment—looking you up and down before speaking, “Yes?” 

Fuck. Think of something not crazy to say. “I-I wanted to know what movie you saw.” Not great.

“Why?”

Why would you wake him up in the middle of the night to ask that? “Just curious.” Stupid.

“At 2am?”

It was 2am? You’d been stewing in your room for two hours. You’d lost it. “Nevermind.” You turned to leave, his hand catching you around the wrist. 

“Why do you wanna know what movie I saw? Do you not believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?” 

“Because you think I fucked her instead.” 

You sucked in a breath, studying his face carefully. “Did you?” 

He took a step towards you, hand still wrapped around your wrist. “Are you jealous?” 

“No.”

“No?” He studied your face before slowly pulling you into his room and closing the door behind you. You found yourself pushed up against it, chest first. The wood was cold against the warm skin of your stomach, your small tank top riding up. “So it wouldn’t bother you if I touched her like this?” He traced his fingers up from your wrist slowly. They trailed all the way up your arm to your shoulder where he brushed your hair over your shoulder gently.  

“No,” you said again, less convincingly this time—voice a little breathy. 

He stepped closer, pressing your body further against the door with his. His lips touched the skin he’d revealed on your shoulder. “I think you’re jealous. I think you're angry with me for touching someone else. Hm? I’m right, aren't I?” You shook your head, breathing shallow. “I didn’t fuck her,” he continued. “We watched a movie, I drove her home and I kissed her goodnight.” You frowned.

“Kissed her?”

His chuckle tickled your skin. “On the forehead,” he clarified. 

“Like you kissed me…”

“No, not like I kissed you. That was different.”

You wriggled against him, turning yourself so your back was pressed against the door. He gave you no space to manoeuvre, keeping his body where it was right up against yours—your clothed breasts pressed against his bare chest. 

“Why was it different?”

“Because when I kissed her I was being polite.” 

“And when you kissed me?” you breathed. 

He traced his fingers up your neck, palm coming to a rest against your cheek—his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin. “That was because I love you.” 

You held your breath, eyes flicking back and forth between his as you attempted to decipher his meaning. Love…love as in his roommate who he loved as a close friend or… 

“You love me, too. Don’t you? I wasn’t sure. Not until tonight,” he continued.

“I-“ Did you love him? You wanted to kiss him. You were upset and you wanted to kiss him, that’s what you knew. 

“Mm?” he prompted.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours. He relented, letting you taste his lips on yours for the first time. You imagined how you’d feel if he had gone home with that girl tonight, if he’d come home the next day and announced he was seeing her again, if he started dating her and you missed your chance. You imagined if you couldn’t have him. 

He pulled away, leaving your lips wet. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” your voice was breathy as you panted, no hesitation this time. You attempted to pull him back for another kiss but he resisted. 

“Say it.” 

You leaned in to kiss each corner of his mouth before pressing your moist lips to his. “I love you,” you whispered against his mouth, feeling his lips curve up. 

“Yeah? Even when I smother you?” 

“Even then.” 

“Can I smother you now?”

“You’re asking?”

“I’m asking.” 

You detached yourself from him, ducking under his arms where they trapped you against the door. You crawled into his bed, lying back against his pillows as you approached you. “I’ve never had you in my bed before,” he smirked as he covered your body with his. “You’re always making me walk all the way to yours.” 

“I didn’t make you do anything.”

“I stubbed my toe on your door frame this morning.” 

“Your own fault.” 

He took your hands in his and stretched your arms above your head. You’d never held his hand before and now he was holding both as he hovered above you. Your hands were always so cold, his warm palms felt like they were bringing them to life. Sex was never a partcularly intimidate afair for you; you’d never slept with someone you actually cared about—who cared about you. Loved you? 

“Do you really?” 

“Hm?” 

“Love me.” 

“You really didn’t know? I didn’t think I could be any more obvious.” 

“You-I mean you never said anything…” You wracked your brain for any hints he could have given you. He never said anything, you were sure of it. He would never say anything important when he was draped over you. It was small talk. He was the only one who ever touched you that much but that’s just who he was. You thought that’s just who he was. “You mean all the…physical stuff?” You watched his lips curve up as he hovered over you. You’d had him over you so many times but with your mutual confessions still lingering in the air it felt altogether different. 

“Yeah, I mean the ‘physical stuff’.”

“You’re just like that though, you’re… not like me.” 

“I’m like that with people I love.” 

“Oh…” One of his hands moved to bring your wrists together so he could hold both your hands with one of his. The fingers on his free hand traced your lips, which had fallen open slightly in realisation. “But… you’ve always been like that with me.” 

“Mhm.” His fingers traced down your neck to the neckline of your tank top. “You’re not wearing a bra.” 

“I was sleeping.” 

“No you weren’t. You were stewing over me going on a date.” 

You ignored his teasing, focused on his gentle tracing across your chest. “Was she pretty?” you asked, watching his face for any clue about his true feelings. 

“Not nearly as pretty as you,” he muttered, sounding distracted as he released your hands from above your head. “Can I take this off?” He was playing with the hem of your top, his eyes fixed on where your nipples showed through the thin material. You placed your hand over his and guided him up under the hem, dragging his hand up your stomach to cup one of your breasts. 

“Soft,” he muttered. You couldn’t help laughing a little. 

“Yeah, have you never touched one before?” 

“Not these ones.”

“Are they different from the others?”

He ignored your question. “Can I see them? Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

You pushed at his chest with your free hand, still feeling a little awkward initiating contact. Ridiculous really considering his hand was cupping one of your tits. He sat back on his heels, hand retreating from under your top at the last possible moment. You took a deep breath before pulling your tank over your head, resisting the urge to cross your arms across your chest the second you tossed it aside. During your previous sexual encounters you’d felt a lot more confident, the knowledge that it was merely a physical exchange; that you didn’t really care what the person thought of you—it made it all much less daunting. You cared what Chan thought of you, a lot. You cared if he thought you were prettier than the coffee shop girl and so sitting there in front of him topless? Terrifying. You watched his eyes take in your bare skin and then just as you were lifting your arms to cover yourself he grabbed your legs, pulling you down the bed until you were flat on your back. He covered your body with his, his chest pressing onto yours. You sucked in a breath at his warm skin against your sensitive nipples. 

“Always imagined how it’d feel to have you under me like this…” He had you under him like this most days, the only difference was that you were half naked this time. “Do you remember during that heatwave when you were walking around in that little dress?”

You did remember that day. It was one of the hottest days of the year and the power outage meant you were left to cool down with a cold bath and ice cream you’d saved from the freezer. A strappy nightdress—which honestly would probably be better described as lingerie—was all you could bare having against your sticky skin. You remembered it well because that night he’d fallen asleep in your bed, the first and only time you’d actually slept together. You’d woken up with him wrapped around you, your dress riding up between you. You hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes the rest of the next day. You felt your cheeks warm at the memory. 

“You were…more touchy than usual,” you said, avoiding directly referencing the night he’d spent in your bed. 

He lifted himself from his elbows to his hands, creating some space between your bare chests so he could see your face. “Was I? I just remember thinking you were the prettiest thing I'd ever seen.” 

You tried and failed to hold back a smile, completely unused to compliments from him at all let alone ones like that. His lips curved up at your reaction and then they were on yours. He thought you were pretty, the prettiest. He loved you and he thought you were the prettiest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you again—a groan escaping him as you did. His lips on yours, your arms around his neck, his warm chest pressed into yours—it wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him. You wrapped your legs around him, attempting to pull him closer. He laughed against your lips. “Who’s the clingy one now, hm?” 

“More,” you muttered, fingers gripping his hair at the back of his head. 

“More?”

“Closer,” you said, desperate now. 

“I’m not sure that’s possible, baby.” 

You rolled your hips up into him, frustrated by the separation both your shorts and his sweats created. “Take them off. Please.”

“You’ll have to loosen your grip,” he said, giggling a little. He giggled. He giggled while you were desperate for him to take his sweats off and fuck you full. You released him, pulling your shorts down your legs as you watched him take the last of his clothes off. You’d seen his top half plenty, he’d walk around the place shirtless constantly. Anything below the belt? Well, that was new. He stood at the end of the bed, stroking his hard cock as he looked down at you. You still had your underwear on.

“Let me take them off,” he said, walking around to the side of the bed where he dug through his bedside drawer. He fished out an unopened box of condoms, tossing them on the bed before he crawled over to you. “Let me,” he repeated, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down your legs. He moved so slowly you were tempted to reach down and finish the job, his fingers brushing along your skin the entire way. When he finally threw them across the room he moved just as leisurely to grab a condom from the box. His eyes were fixed on your cunt as he slowly worked one down his cock, taking pleasure in drawing it out. You tried to stay quiet, not wanting to rush him but getting more and more impatient by the second. You sucked in a breath when he pressed a kiss to your ankle, the start of a long trail of kisses he made all the way up your legs. By the time he made it to your cunt you were squirming, desperate again. He pressed one kiss just above your clit and you reached down to grip his arm, attempting to pull him up to you. 

“Please….Channie…please…need you closer.”

He moved to hover over you, his mouth a breath away from yours. “How close, baby? Inside? You want me inside you?” 

“Please.” 

“You’re asking?” he smirked. 

You wrapped yourself around him again, arms and legs pulling him down into you. He laughed. “Okay, okay. Just wanted this so long, trying to make it last a little, hm?” He reached down to grip his cock, guiding himself to press the tip against you. “Here? Where do you want me?”

“There…there…” you whined. 

He pressed his lips to yours as his tip pushed into you. Closer. You moaned into his mouth. More. When he bottomed out you held him there, legs tightening around him. He was everywhere. He was over you, inside you.

“Don’t let go,” you whispered. 

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ masterlist

#kpop smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #x reader

[autisticlancemcclain]

parts one two three

———

The first emotion Keith feels, immediately upon waking, is intense dread.

And if that doesn’t sum up the day he’s about to have. Fuck’s sake.

He already feels pretty guilty about yesterday. Besides the fact that Lance is his right hand man — they’re supposed to have each other’s backs, and Keith definitely didn’t have Lance’s, because even though Lance wasn’t in the right he wasn’t in the wrong either — and they’re supposed to be leading this as a team, Keith knows part of the reason things fell apart so quickly is because he didn’t talk to Lance last night. He probably couldn’t’ve convinced Lance to kill the beast, obviously, but they could have definitely explored some different angles together. By letting things fester, Keith pretty much ensured that Lance was going to come up with some elaborate, dangerous scheme that was going to cost them an alliance, and worse, possibly get Lance hurt or killed. (Lance had a good track record with dangerous animals, sure, but this is a beast. The thing sounded like a mix between a polar bear and a dragon. There’s only so much Lance can do, uncanny abilities or not.)

But what’s done is done. Keith can’t very well redo yesterday and make Lance un-mad at him and everyone else, so he’ll have to make do with what he’s got.

And what he’s got is first shift on make-sure-Lance-doesn’t-mutiny-duty.

Fuck, Keith thinks as he makes his way out of his room, this is going to be the Actual Worst.

As usual, Keith is one of the first people on the bridge. Unusually, Lance is next. (Usually he is last, and also late).

“Hey, Lance,” Keith says, trying to muster up a smile.

Surprisingly, Lance beams right back. “Hello, Numb — uh,” his smile falters. “I mean, hi there, Mullet.”

Keith slumps. “I’m still Mullet, huh.”

Lance nods.

“You reckon I’ll work my way back up to Keith, soon? I’ll do anything, you know I will. I’ll even try your horrible face mask with you.”

To his further surprise — Lance must have actually slept well, or something — Lance smiles again, and this time it’s soft even to Keith’s eyes.

“Really? You would do that?”

“I’d do anything for you,” Keith says, and it’s more than he means to.

Lance frowns, and Keith’s heart sinks for the millionth time in just a few hours.

“Except help me save an innocent animal’s life,” he says, and there’s nothing Keith can say to that.

They sit in tense silence until the rest of the paladins arrive.

Shiro counts them once they do, like they’re kindergarteners and he’s a very tired EA, and furrows his brow when he finishes.

“Six. Including me. Who are we — where’s Coran?”

“He said he’ll be here in a few dobashes,” Lance says. “A calibrator broke down in the control room somewhere — nothing urgent, but he wants to get it fixed to get it out of the way. He’ll be back before we’re gone long.”

“That’s fine. Thank you, Lance,” Allura says, transparently trying to ease the tense line of his shoulders, a little.

It does not work. Lance sets his jaw and looks away.

Allura sighs. “I’m sorry, Lance,” she tries. “I know this is hard for you. If it were possible, and we had more time, we’d find another way.”

“Whatever.”

Keith decides that enough is probably enough. Allura and Shiro look genuinely dejected and apologetic, and both Pidge and Hunk look upset.

“Look, Lance, this situation sucks for everyone, okay? It sucks. We’re going to do what we can. If we get to the situation in question and we can actually manage to fix things without killing the beast, then that’s what we’ll do, okay? We’ll do our best.”

Lance exhales, shoulders slumping. He looks… guilty, and his guilt certainly does nothing to appease Keith’s.

“Sorry,” Lance mutters. “I know this is hard for everyone.”

Keith swallows the lump in his throat. He genuinely can’t remember the last time a non-major battle mission sucked so unequivocally for everyone involved, but Jesus Christ.

“Let’s just go,” he says, and everyone nods before following him off the castle and to the wet, humid heat of the planet.

———

part four

#coran is not good at pretending to be lance 💀 #also this one is short i was tempted to post two parts in one but No we shall prevail #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #pre klance #pining keith #whipped keith #langst #klangst #team as family #lance is good with animals #black paladin keith #red paladin lance #keith is Trying #lance is a disney princess #my writing #longpost

[the-boy-meets-evil]

take my hands (we can fall together) | lee chan | pt. 2

(where you and chan are friends, but he's your brother's best friend. and you've always been just a little out of reach. until one season changes everything.) pairing: brother's best friend!chan (dino) x f!reader genre: friends to ??, pining, slow burn | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut rating: explicit (for the full fic) warnings/notes: mentions of unhealthy relationships (reader x boyfriend), mentions of food, mentions of drinking/alcohol, halloween parties, mentions of cheating, reader's boyfriend is an asshole, reader's brother is chan's age and reader is 2 years older, eventual smut (in pt 3 - see that for warnings), any names of other idols are considered to be OCs word count: ~7.7k (full fic is roughly 23k) a/n: huge thanks to @svthub for hosting this fall collab. check out the full list of fics here. make sure you go back and read part 1 for context, this is part 2 (so only 1 part left!). also thank you to my bby indi for creating an amazing banner @classicscreations. if you want to be tagged in the last part send an ask or dm or just comment 💕

tagging: @christinewithluv @aaniag @dejavernon @tbzhub @bitchlessdino @seungkwansphd

part 1 | masterlist | part 3

When there’s multiple nights of dressing up for Halloween, it’s harder to put as much effort into costumes. At least that’s how Chan feels about it. So, he knows that he’s taking the easy way out by dressing up as one of the Kens from the recent Barbie movie, but he’s also not really bothered about trying to come up with something more elaborate. Not when it’s a Saturday night and they’re all going to a house party. He’s got another costume planned for the night of actual Halloween that he put a little more thought into. 

He’s also sure to arrive a little later, because this is one of Seokmin’s friends and Chan doesn’t really know the people hosting the party. It’s not like that matters, really. Things like this are always pretty open as long as you know someone there. Even though Seokmin said he’d be there early helping to set up, Chan still doesn’t want to be that guy that shows up at an inappropriate time. The unexpected tradeoff is that he sees you before he even gets to the front door. It’s almost comical to see that you’re dressed up as one of the Barbies from the movie. It’s hard to tell which one under your coat. Not that it’s surprising. Chan figures you won’t be the only ones to pick a Barbie theme. Still, it’s like you coordinated without even meaning to. You force a smile when you notice him, and he sees that you’re on the phone.

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Your voice sounds angry when it reaches Chan’s ears. 

He hesitates when he’s far enough away to give you space, yet still close enough that he can offer support if you need it.

“No, I always have to understand. I don’t have to understand tonight. It’s a Saturday night and we planned this party weeks ago,” you retort. 

Chan figures he probably should let you be because it’s clear that you’re talking to your boyfriend. It could be a minute before this particular conversation ends. Your eyes watch Chan as he goes to step around you and you reach out to grab his arm. You mouth “please wait” to him. That’s enough to make him stop completely.

“It’s not just a stupid Fall tradition. This is Halloween. Everyone celebrates Halloween,” you start and then roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m aware that you’re 28, but what 20-something doesn’t celebrate Halloween? Be so fucking for real.”

It’s hard to know where to look because all Chan can focus on is your tone. It’s not upset or defeated. It’s angry. Maybe you’ve had something to drink already, maybe you’re just fed up. He wouldn’t blame you. 

“Forget about it, Seungsik. You do whatever it is you have to do,” you say, pausing for him to speak. “Yeah, I heard you say you have to work but it’s a Saturday night. So, you do what you’re gonna do and I’ll be with my friends. Don’t bother coming over if you were even still considering it.”

Your hand is still on Chan’s arm, not that he would leave anyway. It would be awkward to stay this long only to leave when the conversation is clearly over. 

“Yeah, sure, we can talk tomorrow,” you say. You don’t say a goodbye or an “I love you” before hanging up.

“Let me guess, Seungsik bailed again?” Chan asks. He knows he shouldn’t sound so snarky about your boyfriend and also doesn’t care.

“Shocking, right?” you snort. 

“Well, at least you still have friends here,” Chan says and motions for you to head into the house ahead of him. 

You remove your coat and Chan tries not to stare at your Mermaid Barbie costume. He removes his own jacket and your eyes show your amusement before a laugh escapes your lips.

“Looks like I still have a Ken to my Barbie, too,” you joke. 

“You mean Jay didn’t tell you I was coming as Ken?” Chan jokes back. 

“Wait, was he supposed to?” you worry.

“No,” Chan assures you. “I’m not sure he was even listening when we talked about costumes. This was kinda last minute.”

“Well, we should take a picture anyway, we look good together,” you suggest.

“I’m down,” Chan agrees, too quickly. 

Two of you end up, mostly unintentionally, spending a lot of the party together. People that don’t know you keep assuming that you’re there together and your friends think it’s funny, so they keep poking fun. At least it means that everyone stays in a good mood. It’s a little confusing, though, because you don’t correct the people that don’t know you about being there with Chan. At one point, you do ask Chan if he’s actually okay with how close you’ve stuck to him. You make something of a joke about not wanting to keep him from anyone. It’s confusing. It tugs at Chan’s heart as a reminder that even if you’re fighting with him, you do have a boyfriend. Maybe that’s something to consider. But, he shakes it off and insists that he doesn’t mind. Your shoulders fall in relief and you admit that it’s comfortable being around him. You don’t want to talk about the argument, so it helps that Chan knows some of what happens. You like it that he doesn’t ask you too many questions that you know you can’t answer. 

It’s also a little surprising that even at this house party, which is relatively small because the house isn’t huge, you and Chan are the only Barbie and Ken. It seems like everyone thought it would be too common of a costume and tried to think outside of the box. Or some people just were lazy and wanted to save their better costume for the actual night of Halloween. 

“You’re glued to my sister,” Jay observes when Chan excuses himself to get a drink.

“I’m not glued, we just keep ending up together,” Chan disagrees.

“Yeah, seems kinda glued. And you came back in with her after she left to take a call,” Jay says.

“Oh, yeah, I walked up and she was talking to Seungsik. I figured I’d wait for her to come back in,” Chan says. He’s not going to tell your brother that you asked him to wait for you.

“I notice he’s not here,” Jay tries to say casually. 

“He’s not coming,” Chan shares. Jay goes to open his mouth and Chan cuts him off. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why he’s not coming, you’ll have to ask her. But, she seemed kinda pissed off at him on the phone, so maybe let her enjoy tonight and deal with the bullshit tomorrow.” 

“I’m glad she has you,” Jay says.

“Not you too,” Chan starts.

“No, I mean literally. You’ve been a good friend to her with all the bullshit over that asshole,” Jay says, irritation clear in his voice. “Wish she’d just break up with him, but if I say that, I’m being over protective.”

“I dunno, I think she’s probably closer than you realize,” Chan shrugs. 

You come rushing into the kitchen. “Come on, Chan, we have to go crush it at beer pong.” 

“Forgetting her brother again. Good luck, man,” Jay laughs out.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you chide before pulling Chan away with a drink in each of his hands.

He’s more than a little thankful for Jay not calling him on making two drinks. It’s obvious when you show up that the other is for you, yet Jay just lets him be. It makes it easier for Chan to focus on beer pong. You’re at that perfect buzzed point, apparently, where you assure him that you’re going to be at your best. Even though it sounds kind of bullshit, he goes along with it. 

It’s not bullshit, Chan learns two turns into the game. You sink both of your shots without even hitting the rim of the cup. Meanwhile, Chan is just thankful to make one on his second try so you don’t insist you’re carrying the team. You might be, or Chan might be a little distracted by the way you line up your shot. Might be a little distracted by the way you lean up against him. Might be a little distracted every time his arm brushes against your bare skin. Might be a little distracted by the way you celebrate with him every time either of you makes a shot. It’s easy to see why people who don’t know you assume you’re here with him. It’s harder for Chan to remember that’s not true when he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye. 

After you win at beer pong, both of you find your way to a quieter part of the house. The party feels a little stifling and you want some air. Chan agrees, but it’s a little too cold to just sit outside. Instead, you settle for a quiet corner. This time you don’t ask if it’s okay to be stealing all of Chan’s time. Either because you can tell he doesn’t mind. or you’re trusting him to say if he did mind, he’s not sure. 

Now that you’re a little buzzed, not drunk, just feeling a little happier, you’re ready to talk about how things are really going with Seungsik. It’s immediately a lot more honest than Chan is expecting and infinitely more heartbreaking. He’s working crazy hours, claiming that he’s up for some big promotion and has to put in the time. He’s canceling plans on you left and right. He’s making you feel silly for wanting to do all these Fall things. You feel silly for even complaining about it, but Chan interjects to remind you that it’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling. It’s hard to only be supportive when you’re admitting that you feel like there’s something you’ve been doing wrong and that’s why he’s doing all of this. Despite Chan insisting it’s definitely not you, he can tell that you don’t fully believe it. 

It’s like you’re in this weird limbo because you’ve been dating him for over six months, which feels long enough that it’s serious. But, you’ve only been dating him for like six months, which you say also feels like you shouldn’t be overbearing. You’ve always wanted partners to have the freedom they need. Always been really adamant about maintaining your own friendships and hobbies outside of your partner. That’s important. You don’t ever want to be one of those people that gets into a relationship and forgets about their friends. Those are the people who’ve been there through all the shit. There’s a part of you that feels like that’s being used against you with Seungsik. Every time you tell him that you miss him or want him to do something, he reminds you that you suggested keeping some hobbies separate from each other. Chan is quick to tell you that there’s a difference. It sounds like he’s using your well-meaning words as an excuse to not see you as much, which is weird. 

Somehow, you both come to a silent agreement that you don’t really want to dwell on your issues with Seungsik, anymore. You’re just happy to have someone that’s willing to let you vent and then let you move on. Sure, Chan shares his opinions and reminds you as often as he can get away with that you do deserve someone who values you. Then, he also lets you get away with moving the conversation on to lighter things. Even though Chan’s known you for over ten years, there’s still so much about you that he doesn’t know. And he’s not sure what’s shifted, but something definitely has. You’re much more open in the way you talk to him lately, much freer with your words. It’s comfortable, kind of like a warm blanket. 

By the time the party is winding down, Chan is essentially sober, having spent so much time just sitting and talking to you. You’re still a bit buzzed, but well on your way to sobering up. Chan planned to leave his car here and pick it up tomorrow (well, later today since it’s the early hours of the morning) and instead he can drive home. He offers to give you a ride as well, which you happily take to avoid paying for a ride. None of the rest of your friends, except for Jay, seem to be around, but he’s very caught up talking to someone. Good for him, Chan thinks.

The car ride back to your apartment is comfortably quiet. Aside from you asking if you could pick the music, you’ve just been softly singing along and looking out the window. It’s nice at this time of night, too. Everything else is quiet, just the traffic of people heading home for the night, whether it’s to their homes or someone else’s. It’s not until he gets to your house that Chan gets a text from Jay that makes him frown. “Everything okay?” you ask, hand on the door to get out of the car.

“Yeah, just Jay hoping I’m not headed home because he brought someone home with him,” Chan says. “I’ll just be quiet when I go in and put my headphones on.”

“Or you could just crash here tonight,” you offer and Chan grips the steering wheel a little harder to steady his nerves. 

“I couldn’t do that,” he says, causing you to turn back to him. 

“Do you really wanna hear whatever my brother is up to?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, no, but it’s also not like it would be the first time,” he responds with a chuckle. 

“Come on, weirdo, you can sleep on my couch and I’ll make us breakfast in the morning,” you say, getting out of the car without waiting to see if Chan is following you. 

Of course he is, though. He scrambles to get the keys out of the car and hurry after you. Once you’re inside your apartment, you put a pot on the stove to boil some water. Insist that you need some tea before you can sleep. While the water is boiling, you go to the closet to pull out some blankets. It’s entirely too comfortable, both the couch and the way you move around him. Something he can’t fully ignore when you sit down with a cup of tea for each of you.

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here?” Chan asks.

“Why wouldn’t it be? You were nice enough to give me a ride home and it’s my brother that’s sexiling you,” you reason.

“What if Seungsik shows up tomorrow?” he asks.

You take a sip of your tea and then look over at him. “He’s not really the type to show up unannounced. Besides, why would it be weird to offer to let a friend crash?” 

“You’re right,” Chan concedes. 

“Plus, he hasn’t been over for breakfast in weeks and I miss cooking for someone,” you say. 

It’s kind of hard to argue with that, not that Chan wants to. Well, he’d like to argue that it’s bullshit that Seungsik has you feeling whatever you’re feeling. It’s complete crap that he doesn’t appreciate what an amazing person you are. It’s just not healthy. But, at the end of the day, it’s also not Chan’s place, so he just lets it go. 

You get up to wash out the cups when you’re finished with your tea and disappear into your small spare room. It doesn’t have a bed, because you use it as an office area, but apparently it does have clothes that you loan to Chan. The protest is on his lips when you cut him off to say that they’re Jay’s clothes he’s left here when he’s crashed. That’s much better than the clothing belonging to your boyfriend. When he comes back out of the bathroom, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, obviously ready for bed. He clears his throat to be able to say goodnight and pads out to the couch. It’s even more comfortable to sleep on than you said, but Chan’s brain won’t slow down enough to fall asleep. All he can think of is just how…domestic this all feels. How easy it is to be around you. Again. 

Though it takes him a while to drift off, he actually feels like he gets a good night of sleep. The smell of coffee slips into his consciousness while he’s in that in-between state before he’s fully awake. When he opens his eyes, he can tell that you’re trying to be quiet, not wanting to disrupt him. Even though it’s your apartment and you can make as much noise as you’d like. Chan opens both of his eyes and finds your back to him as you look into the fridge. Possibly deciding what you want to make. Your hair is in a knot on top of your head and you’re still wearing that oversized t-shirt and shorts. Everything about you seems relaxed. Until you close the door and turn towards the living room to see him awake. You jump a little and your hand flies to your heart.

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize you were awake,” you share after a moment.

“Sorry,” Chan says and throws his hands up. 

“No, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” you wonder and he shakes his head. “I was trying to figure out what’s for breakfast.” 

“You really don’t…” he starts.

“I promised breakfast and you’re getting breakfast,” you interrupt. “Plus, look outside.” 

It’s a confusing request, but Chan gets up off the couch anyway to look out the window. As soon as he moves the curtain aside, he sees how hard it’s raining. He’s a little surprised that he didn’t hear it. And he’s definitely not overly eager to leave in that.

“Guess you have company for breakfast,” he says when he turns back to you. 

Your whole face lights up and you let out a squeak. “I can’t wait, oh my god, I have so many recipes I’ve been wanting to try.” 

“Like?” he prompts. 

“Do you trust me?”  you ask instead.

That’s a dangerous question. One that Chan isn’t sure he really wants to answer, because the answer is that yes, he trusts you far more than he should. Probably more than he’s trusted anyone else. The last month or so of all these activities has only reinforced that. Instead, he pretends to consider it for a second, buys himself some time.

“I guess, you haven’t poisoned me yet,” he says, voice surprisingly even.

“I hate you,” you joke with an eye roll. 

“I’ll remember that,” he teases back. 

To do something helpful, Chan gets up and folds the blankets he used to sleep and asks you where they go. Once they’re safely away in your closet, he texts Jay to say that he’s still at your apartment and having breakfast at least. Jay sends back an inappropriate number of emojis and says he’s going to make use of the extra time alone with whoever it is he brought home. Thankfully, he only makes one joke about being replaced as the favorite sibling, which Chan answers that you’re a better cook. Was it ever really a contest? 

To avoid being entirely useless, Chan makes both of you a cup of coffee. You’re about to tell him how you like it when he asks if you trust him. As he hands over the perfect cup and turns around to make his own, he misses the look on your face that he knows exactly how you like your coffee. It’s a mix of wonder and surprise. When you tell him it’s the perfect cup, you’re not even lying. He also can’t resist peeking to see what it is you’re working on, despite your attempts to swat him out of the kitchen.

“Is that French toast?” Chan asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah, I know it’s kinda simple, but I had some really good bread that was going a little stale and I’ve been wanting to try a new mixture,” you say.

“French toast is my favorite, I don’t think it’s simple,” Chan admits.

“I think I remember you mentioning that, actually,” you comment. It’s so offhand that Chan doesn’t think twice about it. There’s so many things he remembers about you that he’s thankful something about him sticks too. 

While you continue making breakfast, Chan asks where the syrup is so that he can warm it up a little. He doesn’t like it cold and neither, apparently, do you. You also don’t like fake syrup so you direct him to where you keep it in the fridge. It looks like it’s some small company that you probably got directly from the shop on some adventure. That’s definitely one great part about living in this part of the country, you’re never far from good syrup. It makes the whole apartment smell like maple and the cinnamon from the toast. And something else that Chan can’t really place. But it makes everything feel warm and comforting despite the rain that’s only coming down harder outside now. Maybe Chan doesn’t hate everything about Fall.

Unsurprisingly, it’s the best French toast he’s ever had. Something he’s quick to tell you and you’re quicker to brush off like he’s just being nice. It’s just as easy to chat with you in the light of day in your apartment as the haze of the house party the night before. It’s harder to ignore the way your phone periodically lights up with Seungsik’s name. Harder still to ignore is the fact that it’s just his name. No hearts or emojis or pet names. It’s almost impersonal, not that Chan should be passing judgment.

“Are you going to answer him?” he finally asks.

“No,” is your immediate answer. 

“But…” Chan starts and you level him with a look.

“He doesn’t get to have things on his terms when he couldn’t even come to a fucking Halloween party last night,” you say. 

“Have you talked to him since…” he starts to ask before trailing off.

“Since I was fighting with him on the phone and you walked up?” you finish for him.

“Yeah, that,” he says.

“I read one text from him asking why I was posting matching costumes with you, even though my caption on it was clear and he’s literally all over my page,” you share. “So, I didn’t answer that. I texted him when I woke up to say that I hadn’t read whatever he sent and that I was mad from last night and would maybe talk to him this afternoon or tonight.” 

“He doesn’t seem to have gotten it,” Chan comments as your phone lights up again with his name.

“No, he doesn’t. But that’s also not my problem. Not everything is going to be on his terms,” you say. 

“I’m glad,” Chan admits. 

“About what? Me fighting with Seungsik?” you wonder and Chan’s eyes go wide at the realization.

“No, oh my god, no,” Chan rushes out. “No, I’m just glad that you’re not letting it all be on his terms. You’re worth a lot more than how he’s been treating you.”

“Thanks, I think so too,” you slightly tease. 

Breakfast turns into you asking Chan to watch a show, which turns into him spending the entire afternoon lounging on the couch. You talk a little more about your relationship and what you might say to him when you finally text him back. Chan also tells you some things he’s looking forward to coming up and about some plans he has with your brother and Vernon. Sometimes, you’re just quiet while watching the show, but that’s comfortable too. Eventually, though, Chan realizes that he has to leave. He knows that you’re using at least part of him being there to avoid talking to your boyfriend. Not that it’s the only reason. It’s clear you enjoy having him around, too. But eventually you have to talk to Seungsik and so Chan finally says that he has to head home. Jay is starting to wonder where he is anyway. 

It’s not that Chan really wants to be out and dating, but he also thinks that it might help to get his mind off of you. Even though he loves every minute of being around you, it’s also getting harder. Especially when the time spent together includes things like the Halloween party and crashing at your apartment. He wants to be a good friend to you, but at what cost to his heart? No part of him feels entitled to your attention and he’s not even sure if he would be a better partner to you than Seungsik. It isn’t even about him anymore, not really. Not now that he’s spent all this time with you. It’s just about wanting you to find your own happiness that doesn’t come from a partner. Which is why he agrees to go out for drinks with a friend of a friend, Carla, that asked him weeks ago. What’s the worst that could happen?

He’s meeting her at some trendy bar downtown where the music is usually too loud to hear anything. Not exactly the ideal place for a first date, but maybe that will make it all easier. He does like to dance. And he knows the drinks are good. It’s also always pretty busy, making it easier to blend into the crowd. What’s weirder, though, is that she asks Chan to just meet her there. Again, not Chan’s first choice, but he goes along with it all the same. It’s thankfully very easy to spot her once he gets there.

She’s standing by the bar, her long dark hair framing her face and wearing a dress that clings to her in ways that should be against the law. The moment she locks her eyes on Chan, he thinks maybe he can do this. Maybe it’ll all be easy and fine. They exchange a quick hello, get their drinks, and then it’s right onto the dance floor. 

Time seems to move in odd ways. It could have been ten minutes just as easily as an hour. All Chan knows is that he needs another drink. When he says that to Carla, she agrees and says she’s going to run to the bathroom. They can meet at the bar. Once Chan makes it to the bar, his stomach drops. He looks back out at the dance floor and sees Seungsik with a stranger, that is definitely not you, tight against him. Some bottle blonde presses her ass further back into him and he grabs her hips. As Chan looks at them, Seungsik ghosts his lips across her neck, moves a hand up her stomach. The woman turns around in his arms and pulls him in for a kiss. Seungsik’s hands grip her ass, dangerously close to causing her dress to ride up. It isn’t until Seungsik pulls the woman off the dance floor and into the shadows that Chan realizes just how bad things are. 

Carla seems disappointed when Chan says that something’s come up and he’s got to leave, but perks up when he says that they’ll find another time. He’s not even sure if he should be giving her hope, he just wants to get out of there as soon as possible. Once he’s in the Uber, he texts Jay to ask if he’s home or if he’s got company. The answer that he’s alone in the apartment comes quickly.

“Thought you had a date,” Jay says when Chan comes through the door. “Unless you’re angling for a threesome. I’d have to turn you down though.” 

“Come on, man,” Chan says as he collapses on the couch. He runs a hand through his hair without thinking about it.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” Jay asks, he’s coming back from the kitchen with a bottle of water.

“It’s about your sister,” Chan admits. It’s clear that Jay wasn’t expecting that, but his surprise disappears quickly.

“Wow, are you finally admitting you’re in love with her?” Jay jokes. “Can’t say I’m surprised, but also it could’ve waited?” 

“No, it’s not that. Well, I don’t know, it’s about Seungsik,” Chan says.

“So you’re not in love with my sister?” Jay questions.

“Can we not do this right now? This is serious,” Chan begs.

“Fine, we’ll come back to that. What about Seungsik? Other than he’s been a total dick about all the Fall shit,” Jay says as he leans back further into the couch.

“It’s more than that, he’s lying to her,” Chan states.

“What?” Jay needs Chan to connect the dots and it’s a lot harder than it seems.

“He’s, fuck Jay, he’s lying to her. He isn’t working late. At least not all the time. He was at the club with some girl, grinding, making out, dragging her off to some dark corner,” Chan says. 

The color drains from Jay’s face. “Are you…fuck, are you sure it was him?” 

“I’m positive,” Chan says. 

“You’ve got to tell her,” Jay says after a moment.

“I thought it might be better coming from you,” Chan hopes.

Jay frowns like he’s considering something. “I’m not sure it would. I don’t even mean because you saw Seungsik. It’s just that she’s seemed to kind of rely on you lately. It’s you she was with apple picking and picking out pumpkins. You she spent all of that Halloween party with. She trusts you.” 

“Well I’d hope she does, we’re friends,” Chan tries to joke.

“I’m not trying to fuck with you, I know I started by saying you were in love with her, but I just think it’s different,” Jay says.

“So you don’t think I’m in love with her?” Chan wonders.

“Oh, no I definitely do. I’m just not gonna bust you over it right now,” Jay says. 

“I’m scared to tell her,” Chan admits. 

“She deserves to know, though,” Jay points out. 

He’s right. You do deserve to know. You deserve a lot of things that Seungsik seems unwilling to give. At the very least, though, you deserve respect. What Chan needs help with is figuring out just how to bring it up with you. Jay is right, you and him have been spending a lot more time around each other than normal. Chan’s been more than happy to keep you company to do all the things that Seungsik doesn’t want to. What he’s not prepared for, however, is this. 

Even though it sounds dumb, Chan listens to Jay and asks you to come over to help him make a couple pies for a family get-together. He does have to go over to his aunt’s tomorrow, something you’re very aware of as you and Jay are also invited, and you are excellent when it comes to pies. Chan had just been planning to buy a couple, but this is a ready-made excuse. Even if he thinks it’s dumb. He’s a little surprised that you agreed since he only texted you the same day. Then again, maybe that’s not so surprising.

You breeze in with ingredients, including some that he already has, and immediately get to work laying everything out. He realizes, as you’re looking through his cupboards and scolding him over the lack of organization, how domestic this all feels. Again. It’s not as if he didn’t realize how much he liked you. No, it’s that he realizes he may love you and he’s going to have to tell you something that will break your heart. Best to get it out of the way early before you start baking. Just in case you want to leave.

“Where’s my brother? Avoiding helping in the kitchen?” you wonder. 

“No, he went to help Vernon test out a new game,” Chan says.

“You didn’t wanna go?” you ask.

“I kinda figured I needed to make sure I didn’t show up empty-handed tomorrow,” Chan starts. “I was surprised you agreed to come over on such short notice.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t have anything else to do and I can’t exactly leave you in your time of need,” you say, trying for casual and failing. 

“Wow, I feel the love,” Chan jokes back.

“Chan, you were going to use fake vanilla in your pies,” you scoff. 

It’s hard to keep the smile off his face, despite the news he has to share, as he throws his hands up. “I didn’t know there was a difference!”

“Tragic,” you sigh. “Plus, well, I don’t know. I like hanging out with you.” 

“I like it too,” Chan says. It comes out as little more than a whisper and his heart constricts.

“You’ve made this whole season so much better,” you admit. 

“Yeah, I could say the same for you. I didn’t really get the big deal about Fall before,” Chan shares.

“You didn’t?” you ask. Chan just shakes his head. “But you agreed.”

“Like you said, I couldn’t leave you in your time of need,” Chan jokes.

You playfully shove his arm. “Do you get it now? The appeal of Fall?” 

“I do, yeah. I’ve had a lot of fun,” Chan agrees.

“Wish Seungsik felt the same,” you utter. 

That’s it. That’s the opening, the best one he’s going to get. He has to take a deep breath to steel himself. “Where is he today anyway?”

“Seungsik?” you ask to confirm or to stall, it’s unclear which. After another nod, you sigh. “I don’t really know. He told me he had to stay late on a project and then was going to possibly get drinks with a friend at this little dive bar by his office. I hadn’t heard from him when you texted me to ask for help.”

“Did he say who he was meeting?” Chan presses.

You give him a weird look. “I don’t know. Sejun, probably. I don’t know all of his friends, though. Why are you asking?”

“Come here,” Chan says and pats a stool at the counter. It’s clear you think he’s being weird, or at least weirder than normal, but you listen anyway. “I don’t think he was with a friend. At least, I don’t think he was with Sejun.”

“What do you know?” you ask, eyes intent on searching his face.

“I, well I was out at that place you don’t like because it’s too, what do you usually say?” 

“Try hard trendy,” you supply with a scoff. 

“Right, well I was out and I saw Seungsik there. I didn’t recognize who he was with, but it didn’t seem like a friend. She was blonde and wearing something really revealing, grinding up on him, kissing him. I don’t know, maybe there’s…” Chan hasn’t thought this part out, not really. He feels awkward. 

“Maybe there’s an explanation?” you snort. “I’m sure there is. I’m sure it’s that he’s cheating on me like I’ve assumed he was for the past month.”

“I’m so sorry…wait, you what?” Chan splutters.

Of all the outcomes he prepared for, your immediate acceptance hadn’t been one of them. He’s expecting tears and you asking if he’s sure. He’s expecting you to wonder if you did something wrong. He’s expecting all the tearful things you see in movies. Except this isn’t a movie, it’s real life. And you don’t seem surprised, at all. Somehow, that feels worse. Then, he remembers how you were at the Halloween party. How you were the day after. Maybe it makes some amount of sense. It wasn’t the same as before you went apple picking. It wasn’t meek, it was angry. Pissed off. This is more like that.

You stand and shake your head. “I’m not blind and I’m not stupid.” 

“I never said you were,” Chan interrupts immediately.

“Oh, no Channie, I know you didn’t,” you say, voice soft like he’s the one that needs to be protected. “I think I’m saying that to myself. I knew something was wrong. I knew he was up to something. He’s never been the best boyfriend, but he got really secretive. He blew me off a lot and just pretended it was because he hated this season.”

“Which is bullshit, by the way. It shouldn’t matter how you feel about something. You at least try for someone you care about,” Chan insists.

“Yeah, he was quick to have something to say about me spending time with you,” you admit. That brings Chan up short.

“What? We did most of the stuff as a group,” Chan points out. 

“I wouldn’t think too much about it. It felt wrong when he said it. Like he was deflecting from his shitty behavior rather than commenting on something I’d done,” you say.

“I’m really so sorry, you deserve so much better than everything he’s done to you,” Chan says. 

“You know, that’s the first time you’ve actually said it to me, at least in so many words,” you observe.

“Said what? That you deserve better?” Chan questions. Your face is a bit sad as you nod. “It sounds hollow to say, at best, or judgmental, at worst.”

“I could tell you thought it, though, even if you didn’t say it,” you share. “You said at the Halloween party that I deserved someone who valued me, but you didn’t actually say I deserved better.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it,” Chan says with a sigh.

“Don’t be, I wasn’t ready to hear it,” you assure him. “Besides, you’re one of the only people who shouldn’t be sorry to me. About anything.”

“Do you want to talk about it? About Seungsik and the relationship and what you’re going to do next?” Chan asks. 

You look at him for a minute. “On two conditions.”

“Which are?” 

“That you let me help you make pies if you do actually need them,” you begin. 

“I do,” Chan interrupts.

“And you have to promise not to pull any punches when it comes to your opinions. I want flat out honesty or I don’t want anything.”

“Deal.” 

It turns out that it’s still surprisingly easy to be around you. Obviously you’re sad. You’re hurt. There’s part of you that wonders what you’ve done wrong. But, there’s this vibrancy about you that’s been missing the last several months. The laughs come easier, the brightness in your eyes says you’re up to something, and you’re picking on Chan’s complete inability to make a pie at every chance you get.

In between making the pies, Chan is honest, just like he promised. Maybe a little too honest. He’s got a lot of opinions about the things Seungsik did, or usually didn’t do, and how nobody deserves to feel like the things they love are less important. When you share more about your relationship, Chan finds himself more irritated. It’s clear that you were dulling yourself down so that he didn’t find it annoying. Apparently, your laugh was too loud and you got excited about too many little things. You were too nice with new people and that was annoying because sometimes Seungsik didn’t want to be sucked into a conversation. Before he could stop himself, Chan was listing why those were some of the best things about you. He loves how everything about you brightens up when you’re passionate, loves that you can make anyone feel at home, loves how much you love life. 

Once you both get past bashing Seungsik, an activity that’s entirely too fun, you ask for Chan’s advice about how to break things off. He’s a little surprised that you seem so sure and that you don’t want to give him a chance to work through it. That’s when you remind him that things felt off, anyway. Remind him about the Halloween party. You’ve given Seungsik plenty of chances to not disappoint you. He’s missed all of them. And when you’re done, you’re done. In that case, Chan suggests that you catch Seungsik by surprise. Show up at his apartment without telling him and maybe he’ll even give you more reason to break it off. It’s blunt and honest and you thank him before he has a chance to second guess that level of honesty. 

“Chan, will you get the door?” his aunt calls from the kitchen after the bell chimes through the house. 

It takes a second to excuse himself from the conversation with his cousin and make his way towards the door. There’s no thought about who might be on the other side because he knows that his aunt always invites way more people than she should. She just loves to be surrounded by good people and good food. What Chan isn’t expecting, though he probably should be, is seeing you on the other side of the door with a bottle of wine and a bag of ice.

“Hey,” you say casually and hand the bag of ice over to Chan.

“Uh, hey, I wasn’t expecting you,” Chan says, “or a bag of ice?”

“Everyone always needs more ice at a party,” you provide with a shrug. “So, uh, are we gonna stand at the doorway or…”

“Is that who I think it is?” Chan’s aunt calls as she comes down the hallway. “Oh my god, it is. It’s my favorite almost niece!”

Chan steps aside so that his aunt can engulf you in a hug. It’s actually kind of sweet to see such a warm greeting. 

“I hope it’s okay, I didn’t think to let you know I’d be here,” you say.

“It’s always okay,” she says. “I’ll take any excuse to see you.”

“Actually, could I give you this ice? I wanted to have a quick chat with her about something before we eat,” Chan says to his aunt.

“Sure, I’ll take the wine too. You remembered my favorite, I see,” she says affectionately before disappearing back into the house.

“I suppose I don’t have to ask what this is about,” you joke.

“Come on, we’ll go this way,” Chan says without answering. 

The house isn’t nearly as familiar to you as it is to Chan, but you’ve been here enough to recognize that he leads you into a guest room. There are a couple chairs that save you from having to sit on the bed. That feels like it would be a little too intimate. All Chan wants to do is check that you’re okay. 

“I’m surprised you’re here,” Chan states.

“This time of year is about being with the people you care about,” you answer. “Plus, your aunt makes amazing food and I helped you with the pies. It felt like I should be here.” 

“I don’t think you’ve ever been here without Jay,” Chan says. 

It feels different to be alone with you like this. Going out on adventures, alone or in groups where you ended up together, was one thing. Different, yet easy to fall into. Crashing at your apartment after the Halloween party was entirely different from that, even if it ended up being easy. Having you at his apartment yesterday was surprisingly easy. But this, showing up at his aunt’s house without Jay and newly single, it feels weird. Not weird in a bad way, just weird. There’s almost an intimacy to it, like a glimpse into how things might have looked if everything was different. How it would be if you and him were together and spending time with his family. Yet, he also finds that’s not something he really wishes for anymore. It isn’t that he doesn’t still care about you, because that probably won’t ever change. It’s just that he cares more about helping you with your broken heart.

“Should I not have come?” you ask and Chan hates the way you seem smaller again.

“Of course you should’ve,” Chan rushes out. “I’m really happy you’re here. I’ve been wondering how you were since you left my apartment yesterday.” 

Once again, it’s too honest. It’s too vulnerable. Maybe it’s even too much of a burden to possibly admit that to you, but Chan also knows he needs to so he really can move past this. 

“You said the girl you saw him with on Friday night was blonde, right?” you ask and Chan nods. “I’m guessing it was the same girl that answered the door in his t-shirt.”

“What?” Chan nearly shouts.

“I didn’t even have to tell him that you saw him, which is probably a good thing. He can’t try to turn it around that you made it up,” you say. 

“I…is that a thing that he’d do?” Chan wonders because it’s easier to focus on.

You snort. “Yeah, he was convinced you were in love with me or something. Just another way he was deflecting from himself. Like men and women can’t be friends.” 

It’s hard to ignore the way his heart breaks a little at that. Yet the bigger issue is that you’re right, thinking men and women can’t be friends is insane. 

“You’ve been such a good friend to me,” you continue on. “I’m so thankful for that. I didn’t realize how much I needed to see an example of a guy just being kind and caring until you were right there.” 

“It’s pretty easy to be that to you,” Chan says because it’s honest and it’s real. 

“I broke up with Seungsik on the spot, obviously. He didn’t even try to deny it. Actually had the audacity to try and make it my fault. I guess she knew I existed too and didn’t care. Maybe I wouldn’t either if I was getting all his time like that,” you say, more like you’re talking to yourself.

“Yeah you would’ve, you’re too good a person for that,” Chan points out. 

“Maybe,” you concede. 

“I know it’s a cliche, but you really do deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone that’ll wake up every day and appreciate everything you bring to the table because it’s so much,” Chan says. 

“You have to say that, you’re my friend,” you deflect. 

“Oh no, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I don’t even really like you that much. I just stick around because of Jay,” Chan jokes and you laugh, bright and real. 

“Glad you finally admitted it,” you say. “Maybe you can tell that person, whoever they are, to hurry up and come find me.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Chan tells you. “I am glad you’re here, though.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

last part dropping 12/8 💕 let me know if you want to be tagged!

#svthub #svthub.collab #kvanity #chan x reader #chan x you #lee chan x reader #lee chan x you #dino x reader #dino x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt x you #chan fluff #chan angst #chan smut #dino fluff #dino angst #dino smut #svt fanfic #chan imagines #lee chan imagines #dino imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen fanfic #chan fanfic #dino fanfic #svt fluff #svt angst

[an-au-blog]

The glimpses we got of Jeff Ward in the opla blooper reel fill me with brain worms because now I am thinking about young Buggy not really being able to control his devil fruits ability for a while and Shanks doing his best to help him train. I can just see Buggy holding his own head between his legs before then faceplanting onto the floor and Shanks laughing his ass off, before offering to spot his friend doing more elaborate tricks like bouncing it from shoulder to shoulder so he can catch it before it hits the deck again when he messes up.

„ UGH! You’re supposed to CATCH me not bash my skull in!“ „Sorry.“ „God you suck. I only cant do this because you distract me so much.“ Shanks snorts and grins down at the upside down pouting clown head in his hands. „I don’t know. I just think you’re unlucky.“ „CAN IT.“ „Nah, you need all the luck you can get.“ With a swift motion Shanks raps his knuckles three times against Buggies forehead, to which his crewmate reacts with angry screams of pain and indignation „KNOCK ON WOOD!“ „FUCK YOU!!“ Buggys world twirls in a flash and for one second his body looses his balance just from the whiplash his head is experiencing. When he catches himself he’s upright and face to face with his insufferable Bunkmate who gives him a toothy grin. „Hm what else?“ „DONT“ „Fingers crossed.“ The clown let’s out yet another undignified squawk as Shanks crosses his fingers and mimes dropping him in the process for a second. Buggies body is now trying to grab at Shanks who’s easily sidestepping his friends strangling hands. „I’LL KILL-„ „Maybe it’s like one of those dice you have to blow on for good luck.“ Buggys world once again turns topsy turvy as the redhead flips him upside down once more, his chopped neck exposed upwards and any screams of protest die in his throat as he sees Shanks face getting closer to his neck just at the edge of his vision. Once again he feels thrown off balance, but not because of the sudden movement but because for a single second, he’s met with the faintest feeling of lips on his neck and a slight touch of air as Shanks exhales on the part that usually is connected to his own body. It’s almost unnoticeable and entirely too short to be on purpose, but Buggy still lets the almost kiss happen in shock and mentally thanks whatever sea deity he can think of that Shanks can’t see the look on his face right now. The room spins yet again and he moves his arm upwards almost like a reflex, his head colliding with his own wrist and rolling downwards from one shoulder to the other till it reaches the other wrist and with a flick of his elbow his head bounces off himself and reattaches itself to its neck. His mind clears mid and he realizes Shanks is cheering for him „LOOK AT YOURSELF! THAT WAS SO COOL!“ And all Buggy can do is turn away with faux annoyance and pretend his flush is from being overly embarrassed by his friends happy outburst and hope he doesn’t notice that his fingers keep ghosting over the part where his neck head usually detaches.

I cannot be more serious when I say that I have been thinking about this all day. This is so on point, like... I had a silly little smile on my face while reading this, it feels like it's ripped out of a fic I need more!

I really wanna add something but idk if I can?? it's just so perfect???

Though talking about holding bodily parts, I can imagine Shanks holding Buggy's hand for no reason, even if it's just detached. He'll just be out and about, minding his own business on the ship, and someone will ask him "Buggy, where's your other hand? Why're only with only one?"

To which he'll just make a grumpy face, which the other shipmates quickly learn mean that Shanks is just pocketing random parts for tun again. Bonus points for if he does it with also for fun, just Buggy waking up with one less leg and searching for it while Shanks giggles. Buggy would probably "beat him up" with his severed leg later, but it's too funny to him to not do it once in a while.

OH! Bonus bonus points for when they meet again and Shanks is one arm lighter than Buggy remembers, he accidentally sadly murmurs "You can't hold me like you used to..." under his breath. When Shanks asks him to repeat, he panics and goes "It's like karma from when you used to tease me" or something like that.

#shuggy #one piece shuggy #shanks x buggy #buggy x shanks #answers #op

[cyborg-franky]

This is my fic for the @onepiece-reader-exchange

This is for @wiiiish I hope you enjoy <3

Ace x Fem!Reader SFW Word Count: 1,600

A day off from the demanding task of being a commander came only once a week and when it did come around Ace grabbed at it greedily. Treating himself to a large breakfast before going back to bed, sleeping in as late as his body would let him. Walking around the deck, leisurely enjoying the peace, feeling the warm sea breeze wash over his freckled skin, tussling his hair. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling alive.

He stretched his arms above his head, getting out the last kinks of being fast asleep. Standing on tiptoes and reaching for the sun that shone brightly above. He yawned before he focused on a familiar person walking towards him. He felt himself smile, she was beautiful, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she got closer, he could see the smile on her lips.

Ace wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest and hearing her whine as he smothered her with his pecs. She huffed and peered up at him as he smirked down at her. “Enjoying your day off commander?” She teased him with his title as his arms went slack, hands resting on her hips.

“Was surprised not to find you in bed when I got up.” He hummed and watched as she reached up, flicking the rim of his hat and knocking it off his head, the string around his neck catching it before it fell to the ground, she rolled her eyes at him. “Some of us still have to work, I’m trying to plan my day off around yours though.” She said and rested her palms flat against his chest, feeling his warm skin.

He enjoyed the way her hands splayed out on his chest, he put a hand over one of hers, gently brushing his thumb over her knuckles, letting out a chuckle at her frustration. “We can still spend time together when you finish though, right?” He suggested and she shrugged her shoulders, trying to be coy with her boyfriend though she was loving every second of his attention.

“I should get going or Marco will squawk at me for taking a long break.” She sighed and tried to pull away before Ace wrapped arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, kissing her neck, and taking in her scent, the soft fragrance she liked to wear.

“Oh he won’t notice, he’s probably staring at the same wall for over an hour, you know how he gets,” Ace mumbled against her neck with another low chuckle which tickled her with the vibrations of his voice, earning Ace a little giggle from his girlfriend as she wriggled to get loose. “Either way, you are a commander, you shouldn’t be encouraging bad behavior, surely?”

The grin on Ace’s face when he pulled away, how she seemed mildly annoyed but amused at his antics. “Should have seen what a hell raiser I was before I was a commander before you even joined.”

She had heard stories from pretty much everyone about him, even Pop’s had laughed loudly and regaled her with the tales of Ace, how he had tried to kill him over and over, and how he always ended up flat on his ass and didn’t seem to learn at all. She couldn’t imagine him being that way, not when he was so loyal and adored their captain now. Then again, people change with the times she thought to herself as she felt Ace’s lips on her forehead, a gentle peck as he winked.

“Alright, I’ll let you go do your jobs or whatever, but I have a surprise for later..” Ace enjoyed the puzzled look on her face, how she tilted her head to the side, an eyebrow raised as she waited for him to elaborate.

–

All day she spent thinking about this surprise her boyfriend had set out for her. She’d even asked Marco if he knew anything if Ace had indulged any information to the phoenix. But Marco had just shook his head and told her to just go with the flow, to enjoy it. 

After all, no one knew what she’d like more than Ace.

She waited on the deck, leaning against the rails and staring at the sky, she enjoyed how the world had cooled down, a light breeze rolling over the ocean along with the waves. She sighed, satisfied at feeling the refreshing air against her skin. The sun had started to set and she was admiring the colors changing and dripping down the canvas of the horizon.

“Boo!” She almost screamed when she felt hands on her shoulders suddenly, turned around and saw Ace with a smirk on his handsome freckled face, a twinkle in his eye as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder.

“One day I’m going to accidentally punch you and you are going to deserve it Portgas.” She warned with a tut, making him smile all the more. “Sorry babe, I just like seeing your reaction.! He teased before adding “Ready for your surprise?” He asked and held out his hand. 

She looked down at his hand before taking it, enjoying how warm he always was.

–

The striker was something she was still getting used to, the thing seemed unstable, she always worried about him speeding off on it all alone, a devil fruit user on such a flimsy ship in the middle of the sea. She tried to push her worries away as she sat down on it, a little seat he’d fixed for her. He tossed his bag to her, she held it against her chest as he rubbed his hands together.

“Don’t look so scared, you’ve been on this before. “Ace said with a click of his tongue as he got into position, starting to heat himself up. “Yeah, and there are some things you never get used to.” She replied and gripped the bag tighter.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, stroking back a strand of hair. “Would I ever let anything happen to you?” He asked, honest and soft as he cupped her cheeks with his hands. 

“Alright,” she nodded “I’m ready.”

Shooting off across the waves like a star falling from the sky. She hugged his bag close to her chest and gripped the mast as tightly as she could as he sped through the waves with practiced ease. Her grip became white-knuckled but she had to admit the wind in her hair and the splashes of seaspray made her feel alive. 

It didn’t take long for the small speedy ship to lose sight of the large vessel that was the moby, their home. The sun had sunk further into the sea, colors changing in the blink of an eye. The trip hadn't felt long at all but the golden hues had faded and indigo like ink drenching parchment paper loomed above them.

“So why are we all the way out here?” She asked him as he took his bag from her, having to pry it from her grip. He didn’t answer at first, he just unpacked his bag. He set out a blanket on the floor and urged her to come and sit with him, pulling out another that he draped over their shoulders, having her sit between his legs, arms around her waist. 

She felt his pointy chin on her shoulder as he still ignored her question. Pulling out one last thing from his bag, a small lunch box, popping off the lid and seeing some of her favorite snacks. “You’ll see.” He said with a hum, kissing her cheek before grabbing a snack and bringing it to her lips, she happily accepted it with a sound of enjoyment. Nodding, this was nice.

Ace took one for himself before looking into the dark sky above, seeing the canopy of stars. He had been told by Marco tonight there was going to be a meteorite shower, and it would be good to take her to see it. Out in the ocean where they could have their own private show.

About to prompt him once more, she saw something in the corner of her eye, turning her head, and seeing nothing but the darkness above. She furrowed her brows before more started to fall from the heavens. She gasped and gripped the arms around her middle when streaks of light flashed through the sky.

They looked like a thousand shooting stars all around them, her eyes widened as she watched the shower. Watching the cosmid rocks fall to earth, into the sea to never be seen again by man. She was blown away by the spectacle, so romantic. She didn’t think Ace had it in him but here he was, holding her close, wrapped in blankets, and watching a rarity, even on the grand line.

“This is so nice Ace… Thank you.” She said, still awestruck. Ace kissed her neck and nuzzled his nose into her hair. “I thought you’d like it.” He replied and gave her a little squeeze.

“I love you, Ace,” She glanced over her shoulder, eyes full of wonder and adoration for him, leaning in to meet his lips with her own. “I love you too,”

#female reader #sfw #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x yourname #one piece x y/n #one piece x yn #one piece reader insert fic #one piece reader insert #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you #ace op #ace op x you #ace op x reader #ace op x yn #ace x reader #ace x you #ace x yn

[snnnailmail]

I see you need some Howdy requests °^°, I am here to provide!

I think it would be cool to see Howdy grow some kind of self-awareness much like wally. Its small stuff first, seeing a small thin crease line up where the sky is and he probably thinks its just his eyes playing tricks on him. Then it would start to derail to seeing the seems of his friends, and feeling that something is isnt quite right no matter how he twists and turns, his body doesnt feel like *his* now, and we're basically here to try to do some damage control because he draws attention to himself (wally side eyeing him heavily)

-🌼

:DDD here’s something like that!! Sorry if I didn’t hit everything,, when I start writing my own visions take over and I forget I’m filling out a request. Anyways,,, I think the concept of walk-around puppets in this universe is horrifying. Here’s my take.

GN! Reader / Ambiguous species

cw: horror and unreality

additional tags: hurt and comfort (you comfort Howdy!)

Also remember my guy has a Transatlantic accent,, so cool so swag. All that time watching Westerns has paid off for me.

<333333333333

When you step into the shop, you’re met with all kinds of pleasantries.

‘Howdy-hey! What’s the news today, sweetheart?’

‘Oh! You’re just in time! I’m having a special on jokes! This ones a kicker! Heard it from Barns himself!’

Not this.

The seven-foot-tall pillar of Home fiddling with his hands like they weren’t his own. If he weren’t your friend it would be grotesquely unprofessional.

“What’s got you down, Howdy?”

You tried to approach this like it was just another bit. Like he was going to announce that someone had picked up the wrong order and he’d send you on a quest around town to find the oblivious culprit. Hilarity ensued.

The look on his face told you otherwise.

No script this time. Just terror.

He shook his head, like some sort of thought was trying to come loose that he just couldn’t get rid of.

“Oh, ah, nothing to bother about. I just got a late shipment to fuss over… right before closing time, too! A shame. I’ll be getting home late tonight. Good thing my home is upstairs, ey? Haha!”

The change in demeanor was relieving, but you were still uncomfortable.

“Oh… I’ll give you a hand, in that case!”

Two hands found his cheeks, one flipped towards you bashfully. “That’s so sweet… you think I need six hands to get around here? By all means!”

You grinned, forgetting whatever your reason was for stopping by. You stepped behind the counter.

But then you paused. It hit you, that you had never been back here before. No one has.

Howdy looked at you happily, blankly. “Weird, huh?”

“Yeah.”

He headed towards the back. You took a second to confirm with yourself that neither of you were going to elaborate. At least not yet, you think. You followed him.

He did indeed have a shipment. All kinds of inventory. Fruit, snacks, cleaning supplies.

“Our little town sure goes through a lot.”

He was beside you with all four hands on his hips.

It was silent for a moment.

“Who brings you these?”

Howdy laughed with closed eyes. “That… I would love to know.”

The two of you worked quietly. Whether occupied with stocking, or just processing the events prior, you didn’t know. You didn’t mind the silence, but the air was heavy. Like there was something you two should have been acknowledging, but it was lost, or hiding.

You decided to stick around and help him close. Putting up food and taking apart warmers, mostly.

“I can’t believe you do all this by yourself every night.”

“All in a day’s work! ‘Sides, being busy ain’t too bad.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“It feels good to be good for something. Even here.”

The silence was back, but now you were looking at him.

“Less time to think, right?”

Howdy’s eyes widened, like the notion had been ready to jump off his head the whole time, and he couldn’t believe you put it in the air like that. And then his eyes sank in relief, because you felt it too.

“Don’t be shy to come around when you need to quit all that thinking. There’s plenty here to keep you busy.”

“I will.”

Work resumed, putting everything in its place.

“Be careful, darlin’.” He said, uncharacteristically quiet.

“You too.”

And he laughed, and you didn’t like that.

When all was said and done the two of you looked at the pristine store with some sort of pride, muddled by grief that you weren’t even contemplating before you stepped in. Hazy orange shadows coated the walls and floor.

“How about you stay the night? Wouldn’t want you out and about in the dark.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

But this wasn’t a sleepover of games and stories and staying up past bedtimes. You just needed to be there, and be real. As real as you could get.

Howdy was gazing out the window of his bedroom.

“Funny how dark it gets out there. You would think… I’m not so sure, actually.”

You scooted over to confirm. His window might as well have been a pitch black rectangle. You could just barely make out the outline of Home and their kind eyes.

You closed the curtain.

The two of you settled down for the night. Howdy’s sleeping routine involved spreading out a blanket and rolling himself up in it like a cocoon, or a burrito, and that was kind of funny. You laid right beside him and kept your eyes glued to the ceiling. A night light glowed softly to the side, shaped like a butterfly. A gift, probably.

Howdy didn’t have many qualms sleeping. He worked too hard for his mind to stay wired through the night.

But you sure made it easier, he thought. He imagined the hours rolling by a lot differently if he was alone with his thoughts. Thoughts of scary things, like the sky. The pitch black sky. Like a sheet had been thrown over the entire expanse of home. Everyone knew what the moon was. Where was it?

You shifted beside him, and his train of thought pushed the breaks, coming to a gentle stop.

Wally approached you the next day, casually, as you were tending to some plants.

“Hi, you. What were you up to last night, neighbor?”

You gave him an odd look, but you were used to nosy neighbors at this point.

“Oh, with Howdy! I had no idea I hung out till dark, so we had a sleepover.”

Wally hummed. “That’s sweet.” And walked away. You let out a breath of air when he was out of earshot.

You’ve been paying more attention to your caterpillar friend since then.

He’s been distant. On the occasion he leaves the shop, he’s always glancing around like someone was going to leap out of the bushes and tell him he’s been duped.

He’s always been suave, persuasive. A cool cat or whatever. With so many arms and hands and fingers you can easily spot the anxiety creeping into his form. Your friends noticed, too. Wally seemed especially worried. Poor guy.

You were at the shop one day, just visiting, checking up. Howdy’s demeanor was… upsetting. He kept all his hands in a ball, fidgeting.

It was well past closing and a little yellow figure was passing by the doors. Howdy ushered you to the back. You went along, albeit slightly alarmed.

“You good?”

Howdy rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah— you bet, you bet. Just don’t want any last-minute customers. Love em’, but they’re a pain to clean up after.”

You weren’t convinced. You looked back towards the entrance, but Howdy had taken your hands.

“Just tell me something.”

Unexpected, but this is the most you’ve gotten out of him about the whole conundrum in a while. You nodded.

“Alright. Now this will sound strange, but I need you to put your hands on my hands. Just feel em’.”

His two lower arms raised towards you, and Howdy was your friend and frankly you didn’t care about how strange it sounded, so you reached out and intertwined your fingers. Gave them a squeeze. Just like everyone else, they were soft and cushiony. If you pinched hard enough you could feel your fingers on both sides, but that would hurt. You looked back up.

“Okay.” He replaced those with his upper set of arms. Not having second thoughts, you took those as well.

And paused.

Solid. Completely. You could almost say they were warm. You looked up at him in alarm, still holding his hands, squeezing them, like if you held them long enough they would go back to being normal and you two could laugh about this, but you knew that wasn’t a possibility. Your thumb was on his wrist. It was beating, flowing.

“There is something terribly wrong with me.”

#howdy pillar x reader #howdy pillar x you #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #howdy pillar #welcome home x y/n #howdy pillar x y/n

[guilty-pleasures21]

Yooooooooouuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!! You SUCK!

Ahh! I love them so much!!!

0. The slow burn

1. There are too many. TOO MANY!!

Part 1 - the bad day

Part 2 - the injury

Part 3 - the sleepover

Part 4 - the lovesick teenager/the gym

Part 5 - the eyedrops

Warnings: None.

----------------------------------------------------------

It had been a few days since she’d last seen Miguel. The nurses had put her on an IV for two days before clearing her to leave. Then she’d taken another day of rest before returning to HQ to check on Miguel: he hadn’t been to visit her once since their last mission. Not a ‘how are you feeling’ or a simple ‘hola, arañita’, not even through text! She bounced into the control room, her footsteps getting even lighter when she saw him standing on the platform by his computer. “Miguel? Are you busy?”

     She webbed up to the platform to stand beside him, but he didn’t look up, refusing to meet her gaze. “Yes.” 

     “Oh,” she said when he didn’t elaborate. He wasn’t ever so brusque with her - not with her. “Um, I’m fine now! The doctors said I was all right.”

More silence. She took a step closer to him, trying to sneak a glance at whatever he was working on. “Can I help?”

     “No.”

Her stomach churned as she wondered if he might be angry. Not at her, maybe, but … She tugged on her chair, dragging it closer to her so she could take a seat beside him. 

“I’ll just-” He sighed loudly, interrupting her. Finally, he turned to her, his eyes narrowed in irritation.

“Can you just … go?” She froze, stunned by the response.

 “W-What?” He turned back to his screens. 

     “I don’t need you messing up my missions anymore,” he told her, his voice flat, emotionless. “Just go fight some lowlife criminals from your dimension or something. Seems to be the only thing you’re actually good at.” Her chest tightened at his response, the tears beginning to build up behind her eyes. How could he say that? 

     “How can you say that, Miguel?” He turned to her, his brows pulled low in a frown. 

     “Because!” He took a step closer to her, his expression thunderous as he towered over her. “You’re incapable and incompetent! You almost got yourself killed on a mission even Pav and Hobie had no trouble with!” Because she’d saved them! They’d only had no trouble because she was the one who’d defeated Loki, the one who’d saved them all! But the fear was too great for her to speak, seeping into her bones and squeezing around her insides. She curled into herself, backing away from him slowly, meticulously avoiding his gaze. 

     “How could you be so stupid?!” he continued, taking a step forward every time she took one back. “How could you, of all people, be so dumb?!” She stopped, her foot finding empty space when she tried to take another step backwards. 

     “Just … go home to your comics or whatever,” he finished, returning to his computer. “I don’t need you here anymore.” She opened her mouth to try to respond, but then shut it again, too terrified to say anything. What if she spoke and another hurtful insult fell from his lips? She slapped her hand over her mouth as a sob slipped out. Then she turned and ran far away from him. 

     Peter strolled into the room, whistling a tune from one of the cartoons Mayday had started watching recently. It was a cheery tune, one that had gotten stuck in his head and refused to leave. He waved a hand up at Miguel, brooding on the platform as he normally did. “Hey, Miguel! Where’s X? I haven’t seen her in a few days.” 

     Miguel shrugged, not looking at him. “I don’t know. She probably went home or something.” 

     “Hmm,” Peter began, landing on the platform beside him. “I heard she got injured. Is she okay?” His heart squeezed in his chest at the reminder, his breath catching in his throat. He turned to Peter, scowl on his face. 

     “Why don't you go ask her yourself?!” Peter held his hands up in surrender. 

     “Whoa! Hey! What’s wrong, Miguel?” He placed a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, but Miguel shrugged it off grumpily. “Miguel. What happened? I talked to Pav and Hobie and they said she got injured and that you were freaking out.” Miguel sniffed.

     “I wasn’t … ‘freaking out’,” he mumbled. Peter folded his arms across his chest and tapped his foot on the ground, waiting. Finally, Miguel sighed. “She messed up, okay? She did something … stupid and I … I dismissed her.” 

     “‘Dismissed her’?” Peter echoed. “What does that even mean? And what did she do that was so bad?” Miguel pursed his lips, knowing Peter wasn’t going to like his answer. 

     “She … She almost got herself killed using Scorpion’s venom.” Again, a lump formed in his throat at the thought. “So, I … I told her to leave. I said we didn’t need her anymore.” ‘I’ - ‘I don’t need you anymore’; that’s what he’d said. He winced as Peter began yelling at him. 

     “You what?!” Peter exclaimed, waving his hands in the air in disbelief. “How could you say that to her, Miguel?! You know how much she cares about you - I know how much she cares about you; everyone knows how much she cares about you.” He waited until Miguel turned to face him, the shame shining through his features. Then he sighed. Because he cared about her too. Just as much as she cared about him; that was obvious to everyone as well. He returned his hand to Miguel’s shoulder.

     “Are you mad at her because she made one mistake? For the first time?” He paused to let the words sink in. “Or are you mad because you were scared you might lose her?” 

     He sucked in a breath at the memory of her convulsing in his arms, at the fear he’d felt racing through his veins. The fear he’d let push her away, causing him to lose her anyway. 

     “Go find her, Miguel,” Peter told him. “Apologise. For once in your life.” Miguel narrowed his eyes at that, fixing Peter with an exasperated look. But then he clicked on his watch anyway, opening up a portal to take him to her house.

     He landed in the entryway of her apartment, his head almost brushing the ceiling as he looked around. It was small, but cosy; neat, but welcoming. Just like her. Her head popped up over the sofa and she hopped up quickly when she saw him, scurrying over to the light switch by her bedroom to dim the lights. And it killed him. It killed him that, even after he’d hurt her as much he had, she still found it so easy to care for him. He deactivated his mask and called out to her softly. “¿Arañita?”

     She flinched at the familiar nickname, the one reserved only for the two of them, and it felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over his head. He clenched his jaw, not caring for the feeling one bit. “What do you want, Miguel?” 

     Her voice was cold, flat, and she refused to meet his gaze as she spoke, her eyes fixed instead on her own feet. He began making his way over to her, each step slow, careful, like he was worried any sudden movements might cause her to bolt. He reached a hand out, wanting to run his fingers through the strands of her hair, to push it out of her face so he could see those almond-shaped eyes and rosy cheeks and soft, curved lips. But again, she pulled away, and again, his heart dropped into his stomach. His fingers twitched, aching to reach out and comfort her. And it terrified him. It terrified him how much he wanted to hold her, to pull her into his arms and keep her safe, always. He ground his teeth together, trying to contain his emotions. 

     “X. I’m sorry,” he began slowly. “For what I said. And how I treated you. I was … I was just scared, that I might … that I might …” He let his words trail off, unable to finish the sentence, the horrible thought that had plagued his mind for the past few days. But she just glared at him, angry now, her eyes red and swollen from how she’d cried earlier. Because of him. Because of what he’d said to her. His heart ached at the sight. 

     “So?!” she exclaimed. “I was scared too! You didn’t see me throwing a tantrum about it!” She frowned at him, waiting for his excuse. But there was no excuse. He’d made a mistake and he needed to apologise. He’d own up and take accountability for his actions, apologising to her over and over and over again until she forgave him. 

     “You’re right,” he agreed. “I’m sorry. I was wrong and … and …”

     “You know what?” She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze still fixed on him. “I am sick and tired of angry men! I’ve already had to grow up around so many, I’m not going to put myself through that again; not if I can help it. And I can help it now: I’m an adult now. I get to decide who I want to keep and who I don’t.”

     'Do you want to keep me?’. The words hovered on the tip of his tongue. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if she said she didn’t. 

     “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I … It won’t happen again. I promise.” She stood her ground, her expression unconvinced. So he pushed on. 

     “I just-” His voice cracked as the memory came flooding back to him: her, lying in his arms, convulsing as her body tried to rid itself of the venom running through her veins. Her, flopping over, and him not even breathing as he waited, waited for her to wake up, to say something, to do anything. “You were just lying there, arañita! And I … I …” 

     She let her arms fall back to her sides, her features scrunching up in concern. He was having a panic attack, she recognised it. She crept over to him carefully, trying not to startle him, and bent over to try to catch his gaze. His eyes remained fixed on the floor, wild and restless as he re-lived whatever memories were running through his mind right then. She reached up slowly and took his face in her hands, tilting his head towards her. 

     “Miguel? I’m okay. I’m okay.” She brushed her thumbs along his cheeks. “Look at me. What colour is my hair?” He hesitated, trying to bring his attention back to the present, to focus on her standing in front of him, waiting for him to respond. 

     “Brown?” 

     “And my eyes?” 

     He stared into her eyes, his breathing slowing down a little as he studied them. “Dark brown.” 

     “And my tongue?” She stuck her tongue out and wriggled it playfully, trying to retain his attention. He relaxed a little more. 

     “Pink.” She lowered her hands to his, stroking her thumbs across them. 

     “Take your gloves off,” she commanded him gently. He complied and she took hold of his hands, curling her fingers around them. “How does my skin feel?” 

     “Smooth. Cold.” He engulfed her small hands in his large ones, trying to warm her up. She smiled up at him, the curl of her lips beneath her puffy eyes tugging at his heartstrings again. 

     “And my hair? What does it smell like?” She took a step forward, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. He found his own hands landing on her back, and he ran his fingers gently along her spine as he rested his cheek on the top of her head. 

     “It smells … fruity. Citrus-y?” 

     “I just washed it,” she told him, her voice muffled by his chest. She pulled back to look up at him, her arms still curled loosely around his waist. “Do you want to sit down?” He nodded and she guided him over to the sofa to take a seat. She sank into the cushions beside him, then arranged his arm over the back of the headrest so she could curl up against his side. She reached up, placing two fingers against the side of his neck. 

     “What are you doing?” he asked her, a tinge of amusement clouding his voice. She sat back to look up at him. 

     “Feeling for your pulse.” She grabbed his hand and placed his fingers on her neck, moving the other to rest on his neck. “Is it okay? Is your heart still beating too fast?” He remained silent for a moment, counting out the beats as they pulsed against his fingers. 

     “It’s slowing down now.” 

     “Try to match mine.” She rolled her eyes, smiling at the thought. “Or less, probably.” His lips twitched at the joke, but he kept his fingers against her neck, measuring the beating of his heart against hers. She ran her fingers along his thigh as she waited, her nails scratching over his skin lightly in a way that kept distracting him from the task at hand. He looked up and studied her carefully, his gaze trailing over her slowly as he reassured himself that she was okay; that she was real and she was safe, her heart pulsing in her chest, the blood rushing through her arteries beneath his fingers. Finally, he dropped his hands back to his lap. 

     “I think it’s all right now.” She hummed in acknowledgement, then curled back into his side, her body small and soft against his. Eventually, she sat back to look up at him. “Do you want to stay for dinner?” He hesitated, afraid to pose the question. 

     “Can I … Can I stay over? Just for tonight! I just … I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He avoided her gaze as he waited for her answer. Stupid, it was a stupid question. How stupid of him to reveal just how much he truly cared about her, how embarrassing. 

     “Of course!” she replied quickly, not even needing to think twice about it. She glanced around her tiny apartment, thinking. “Do you mind sleeping on the sofa? It’s a pull-out! I just don’t think my bed would be big enough for the both of us.” 

     She understood; she understood exactly what he needed right now - exactly how he was feeling and how to help him feel better. And she made it seem so easy too, as if she didn’t even need to spare a second thought when it came to him. He shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “My bed … should be. If that’s … If you’re comfortable with that.” 

     “Sure.” She shrugged, not seeming bothered in the slightest by the idea of sharing a bed with him. She glanced at his suit. “But do you need to go back first?”

     “Yeah,” he nodded, suddenly feeling back to normal again. “I still have some stuff I need to clear up.” 

     “Okay. I’ll just call my mum first. Then we can go after.” She leaned back against the sofa. “Do you want to have dinner here though? I can order something.” She was a terrible cook; she’d whined about once before, in the pantry with some of the other Spiders. ‘It’s a curse!’, she’d lamented. ‘Everything I cook turns out both raw and burnt!’. She picked up her phone and began scrolling through it. 

     “What do you want to eat?” She tapped her phone against her mouth as she considered. 

     “Roti prata?” Her favourite food - besides the instant noodles he’d tried to ban from HQ to stop her from eating them so often. So he’d made it a regular dish: pizza on Fridays, roti prata on Saturdays. Instant noodles for lunch on Saturdays when she managed to sneak it into the canteen before he caught her too. 

     “Can I get the one with the chicken and the onion already inside of it? The stuffed one.” She tapped on her phone for a bit, then held it out to him, showing him a picture of what he’d asked for. 

     “This one?” He nodded in agreement and she added it to the cart. Then she looked up at him again, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she considered him. 

     “You want one?” she asked him. “Or two …” He sighed, his lips quirking at the ends anyway. 

     “Mierda, arañita. Why do you always think I can eat so much?” She laughed. 

     “Uh, because you’re kind of freakin’ huge?!” She poked his broad chest to illustrate her point. “Where else am I supposed to think all this muscle comes from?” He rolled his eyes, trying not to smile. 

     “One is enough, arañita.” She sank back into her seat and shrugged. 

     “Suit yourself, big guy.” He frowned and poked her in the side, causing her to shriek and pull away immediately - because she was so painfully ticklish. She glared up at him, blowing away a loose curl that had fallen into her eyes.

     “You’re so mean, Miguel.” He scoffed incredulously. 

     “You’re the one calling me big!” And suddenly, it was easy again, easier than it had been in a long time. But just with her - only with her. She trailed her gaze over him, appraising him carefully and biting on her lip in a way that had the blood rushing to his neck. She tapped her phone on her mouth again, giving him a suggestive look. 

     “Are you not?” F*ck. His breath hitched in his throat and he pushed himself out of his seat, putting some distance between them. 

     “I should be back in about two hours.” He re-activated his mask and opened up a portal to take him back to HQ. “Hasta luego, arañita.”

     “Hasta luego, Miguel.” 

     She took in his apartment, her eyes wide with disbelief. It was so big! And so fancy! A penthouse suite with two floors and five bedrooms and three bathrooms and a view of the entire city spread out below. It probably could have fit her place six times over! She tiptoed over to the plush grey sofa in the living room, her feet sinking into the fluffy white carpet as she set her pillow down. 

     “This is your house?” X asked him, her tone dripping with disbelief. Miguel grunted in acknowledgement, setting her water bottle down on the kitchen island before turning around to look at her. He leaned back against the island, folding his arms across his chest. 

     “Is there something wrong with it?” X shook her head quickly and turned around, making sure to absorb every part of her surroundings fully. 

     “No!” she reassured him, her expression awestruck as she studied his house. “It’s so big! Are you, like, a rich boy or something?” She turned to look at him, her lips curling in amusement as he gave her a confused look. 

     “A what?” She grinned.

     “A rich boy,” she repeated, gesturing to their surroundings. He turned his eyes away from her, shifting uncomfortably in position. 

     “Uh, yeah. I guess.” She swivelled around, ignoring his discomfort, and began making her way to the balcony. 

     “Ugh!” she groaned, waving her hands around dramatically. “I’m gonna have to marry you now, Miguel, I have absolutely no choice!” 

     He froze, unsure if he’d heard her right. ‘Marry’ him? Was that what she’d said? That she’d have to marry him? ‘Have’ to, like she had absolutely no choice in the matter? 

     “¿Qué?” He looked up, needing to hear her say it again. But she’d disappeared, walking out onto the balcony and leaving him behind. He ran after her. 

     “¡Arañita! ¡¿Qué?!” He rushed over to where she was standing, gripping onto the railing as she gazed out over the city. “What did you just say?” 

     She smiled, admiring the bright lights and the buzz of people still dashing through the streets, even when the moon was already so high in the sky. Miguel leaned over, trying to catch her gaze to get her to repeat what she’d said, still unable to believe that she’d actually said it. She refused to look at him, delighting in the puzzled expression on his face as she teased him. “Wow. This is so beautiful, Miguel.” 

     ¡Mierda, she was driving him mad! That relaxed smile on her face as she rejected his attempts to meet her eyes. He straightened, hardening his features and giving her a serious look. “X. What did you say just now?” 

     “What?” She grinned, finally looking up at him. “When I said I’m gonna have to marry you?” Again, she’d said it again! And so casually too, like it was just a fact of life, something inevitable they’d both have to accept. He gulped and nodded, completely at a loss for words. Her expression softened and she returned her gaze to the city, shuffling closer to him until her arm brushed against his. 

     “It’s okay,” she continued, her voice reassuring. She leaned over, resting her head against his arm. “I think we’ll be okay. Besides …” She pulled back slightly to look up at him again, her lips still curled into that mischievous smile. 

     “No one else is ever going to enjoy your company as much as I do. I won’t let them!” Her brows drew together in anger at the very thought, then her face broke into a grin again as she lowered her head back to his arm. How could she … How could she be so relaxed about this?! He gripped onto the railing, considering her words carefully. Was she really serious? He couldn’t tell. Not with that teasing smile she kept giving him every time she said it. But she kept saying it - why would she keep saying it if she didn’t mean it? If she didn’t want it to be true? He slid his gaze over to her, searching her demeanour for some hint as to what she was thinking, some clue. But she continued laying against his arm, her posture relaxed as she looked out at the landscape below them. Did she want it to be true? Did she … He shook the thought away, not wanting to think about it too hard. But what did it mean; if she wanted it to be true? What did it mean about the way she felt about him? And … what did it mean about the way he felt about her? His eyes drifted over to her again, his brain reminding him that he’d asked to stay the night, just so he could check up on her, just so he could make sure she was okay. She yawned suddenly, saving him from having to think about the situation any longer, and began heading back inside. 

     “Can we watch some TV or something?” she asked him, settling into the sofa. She looked up at him, waiting as he tried to collect his thoughts. 

     “Uh, um, yeah. Sure.” He sank onto the sofa, careful to leave a little space between them, and turned on the TV. “What do you want to watch?” She thought about it, then shrugged. 

     “I dunno. What kind of TV do you guys have?” He handed her the remote, unsure as to what she liked, but regretted his decision immediately when she landed on some trashy reality dating show. 

     “Really?” he asked her incredulously. “This trash?” She grinned and leaned back against the headrest, making herself comfortable. 

     “It’s nice to know it never gets old.” He rolled his eyes, but said nothing as she continued watching, the ache throbbing inside his chest finally easing up at the sight of her, safe and sound beside him again. 

     “What’s your favourite colour?” They’d gone to bed a while back, the two of them laying on their separate ends, their eyes trailing over one another as their hearts pounded with the excitement of sharing a bed together. He thought about it. 

     “Red.” She flashed him a smug smile, one he could easily make out in the dark. 

     “I knew it.” He rolled his eyes at her response. 

     “Why? Because it’s the colour of my suit?” She rearranged her features into a knowing expression.

     “Guys’ favourite colours are almost always red or blue,” she informed him. “You seem more like a red guy than a blue guy though.” 

     “Because I’m angry all the time?” He tried to keep his tone light, neutral, but it gnawed at his heart, how much he’d hurt her because of his fear. He really needed to manage his temper. 

     “No,” she reassured him softly. “You’re not angry all the time. You just seem more like someone who’ll go out and do things instead of sitting back and letting them pass you by. Red.” His lips twitched at her response, amused. Who knew a person’s favourite colour could tell you so much about them? 

     “What’s your favourite colour?”

     “Purple,” she replied immediately. “But that’s because of Barney.” 

     “Barney?” he repeated, confused. 

     “This big purple dinosaur I used to watch as a kid,” she explained. “He was my first crush.” She gave a dreamy smile, knowing he’d be able to make out the expression in the dark. His brows furrowed in disbelief.

     “Your first crush was a big purple dinosaur?” She laughed. 

     “Don’t worry, it gets worse from there. I also like Simba. And then probably Shahrukh Khan.” A brief silence fell over them as he attempted to come up with a response.

     “I have never heard of any of these people.” She chuckled again. 

     “I’ll show you one day,” she assured him. “What’s your favourite animal? And don’t say Spider!” Favourite animal now? What secrets would that reveal about him? 

     “Technically,” he began, his tone matter of fact, “a spider isn’t an animal. It’s an-”

     “Arachnid,” she finished, her voice softening with awe. “So it doesn’t fall into the kingdom Animalia.” A pause. And then she spoke in a dramatic whisper. 

     “I think I’m in love with you, Miguel.” 

     He froze, taken aback by the sudden confession. But did she mean it? Or was she just joking? Was she joking when she’d said it earlier; that she’d wanted to marry him? Or had she meant it then, just as she meant it now? He ground his teeth together, frustrated by her constant teasing. Santo cielo, she was going to drive him mad if she kept carrying on like this! He tried to brush it aside, to match her nonchalance, the casual tone she continued to use on him. 

     “Not the usual response.” She gave him a wicked smile and his stomach flipped over at the sight.

     “What? You wanted me to call you a huge nerd?” He frowned. 

     “Arañita,” he chastised her, his tone warning. She cuddled her pillow tighter, shuffling over to him slightly. 

     “It’s okay,” she told him gently. Then she lowered her voice, leaning into him like she was about to tell him a secret. “I think it’s kind of sexy.”

‘¡Ay, coño, arañita!’ he wanted to yell. ‘Stop messing with my head like that!’ But then she'd just give him that innocent look, asking him ‘like what, Miguel? How am I messing with your head?’ And she'd flash him that devious grin again, the one that made the adrenaline rush through his veins in anticipation of what she might do next - how she might tease him, getting him hot under the collar all while keeping that playful expression on her face. He swallowed, trying to come up with a very unsexy response. 

     “Because you're a huge nerd too?” He winced as it came out a little louder than expected - a little too desperate, he worried. But it didn't matter, because she still outwitted him anyway. 

     “You think I'm sexy?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him and he fought to suppress a groan. He wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t think about how sexy she really was, her delicious curves making his mouth water with longing every time she stretched herself out. ¡Ay, coño, she was going to be the death of him one day! 

     “Good to sleep, arañita,” he grumbled, pulling the covers tighter over himself. She chuckled, delighted by how easy it was to fluster him. 

     “Good night, Miguel! 

     “Buenas noches, arañita.”

Tags: @leahnicole1219 @heubstr

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel fanfic #miguel smut #miguel x oc #spiderman 2099 #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel fluff #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

yeah my tl;dr opinion on the second billboard is that it’s gonna have very little impact on making us more visible and probably very little direct impact on our chances of getting renewed, but if it makes some ppl feel like they’re doing something then i don’t rlly care bc it’s not my money. that being said, i’m a little worried that the second billboard might end up hurting the general ofmd fandom’s morale more than helping.

elaboration under the cut bc this shit got long

so the ofmd fandom has already caught the attention of the media, we have new articles being written about us pretty frequently. hbo/wbd is also facing a lot of public backlash for their continuous cancellation of tv shows, especially diverse shows, AND they are specifically getting a lot of shit abt refusing to sell coyote v acme. they have a lot of money to gain via tax write-offs from shelving thay movie and refusing to sell, but refusing to sell ofmd isn’t gonna make them that kind of money. so public pressure + financial incentive combined, there’s a pretty good chance of wbd selling ofmd to another studio.

ironing out a deal with netflix/apple tv/amazon+ is gonna take time tho. from a fandom perspective, it’s already been be a very long, very demoralizing waiting game, and personally i would be surprised if we’re even halfway through it.

so there are two things at play when it comes to the fandom giving djenks et al the best chance of securing the best deal for this show: maintaining visibility and maintaining fandom morale. obviously visibility is more directly affecting the negotiations, but morale is important in keeping as many ppl in the fandom active as we can during this gravy basket of a waiting period.

so the question is, how does the second billboard serve those goals? will it maintain or increase our visibility? will it boost fandom morale?

before i get into the second billboard tho, i wanna talk abt the first billboard.

i think we can all agree that the nyt billboard boosted morale: cast and crew were posting about it, djenks shared a selfie in front of it, the energy on ofmdtwt and in discord servers and here on tumblr was very hopeful and excited. it was an emotional high point that i think we’re all kinda missing as the weeks drag on and we approach the two-month mark since the cancellation.

but did the nyt billboard increase or maintain our visibility? more specifically, did it increase or maintain our visibility to a degree that was proportionate to the amount of money spent?

i’ll be honest, i don’t know the answer to that one. i don’t know much about advertising or about tracking ROI for things like billboards and flyover banners. i think, though, that any significant increase in visibility came not from the billboard itself, but from the social media response to the billboard. the excitement of seeing cast and crew talking abt the billboard had us all hyped up and posting/tweeting in our excitement, and that got us trending. the livestream of the billboard probably had an increase in viewership, which i’m sure is something that gets tracked somewhere. and i’m also sure wbd execs were aware of the billboard, and djenks tagging netflix, apple, and amazon means those executives were definitely made aware of it, too

but i’m doubtful abt how much the nyt billboard raised our visibility outside of a few ppl in the streaming/entertainment industry and outside of the ofmd fandom. there were already articles being written about us by that point—did any publications decide to write more articles abt the renewal campaign directly because of the billboard? did the campaign for s3 reach the general public? did site traffic to the petition actually increase? did anyone on the streets of new york or LA actually follow the link/qr code/whatever to learn more about what was being advertised?

on twitter, at least one person who had been supportive of the renewal efforts and who claimed to have relevant industry experience said that the return-on-investment from the billboard/truck/flyover was shockingly small, meaning that for the amount of money that was spent, we should have received more site traffic, more social media buzz, more mainstream awareness than what we got. this is not me saying the ofmd fandom was scammed—the people who donated money were told what the money was going to be used for, and the money was used exactly as promised. but the criticism was that if the goal was to increase our visibility, perhaps the money could’ve been spent differently.

so that’s the nyt billboard: successful at raising morale, unclear exactly how effective it was at increasing visibility. now for the london billboard, located on the vue cinema on leicester square

first, a few things about the site of the london billboard: the ad space being purchased is not, as i have seen claimed, on a hugely iconic billboard and venue. arguably, it is not even located on leicester square. the giant billboard is on a budget movie theater that is right off the corner of leicester square. people have been confusing the vue theater with the odeon theater, which is an iconic landmark in the middle of leicester square where movie premiers happen and where many tourists stop to take pictures. from what i’ve seen (and heard from various uk fans), the foot traffic by the vue theater is not really comparable to the foot traffic at the location of the first billboard.

so, billboard 2 and visibility. the question of if this billboard increases visibility of the campaign, whether that be via successfully advertising to the people walking by or via generating social media buzz.

the thing with the foot traffic issue is i’m honestly not sure how much of a boon the high amount of foot traffic was to the first billboard. bc honestly, how many pedestrians pay attention to billboards enough to actually check out the thing that’s being advertised? probably not very many, hence why there was criticisms that the billboard yielded a low ROI. if there was any increase in our visibility externally (by which i mean, not within studios or within the industry, and not within the fandom and other ppl already aware of the existence of the renewal campaign), it most likely came primarily from articles and social media buzz.

i personally am doubtful that the second billboard is gonna generate the same kind of attention online. the location is less flashy than the first one, david jenkins probably isn’t gonna fly over to london to take a selfie with it, and simply the fact that it’s a second billboard is gonna decrease the energy in how ppl respond to it. like, we already did this in a very famous tourist location. now we’re doing it again, only it’s around the corner from a different, slightly less famous tourist location. the surprise and excitement we saw from the cast and crew will inherently be lessened when we pull the same trick twice. that might also extend to media coverage—how many times do we think journalists are gonna cover the same media stunt pulled by the same general group of people? there is a possibility that the answer to that is only once.

but, to be fair, i did say that visibility was only one part of the equation. the other important thing was morale and keeping the fandom’s energy up, something that is going to get harder and harder the more time passes without us hearing any news.

a second billboard is definitely one way of tackling that issue. fans can meet up at the billboard, post selfies with it, hang out. it’s kind of a cool thing, to see a huge sign on a billboard and know that it was a bunch of passionate fans put it there. and we already know that the first billboard had everyone pumped. more than increasing visibility, maybe this is the primary goal of the second billboard: to hype up the fandom.

i worry, though, that it’s not going to hype up the fandom in the way people are hoping for. like i said, i doubt we’re going to see the same outpouring of excitement from cast and crew that we did the first time around—even already some of the actors have said to the fandom that it’s not worth it for us to spend our money this way. and even within the wider ofmd fandom itself, i would not be surprised if fans just aren’t as excited by this second billboard simply because it’s the second billboard. already, it seems to me like ofmd fans who aren’t directly contributing to the renewal campaign aren’t responding as enthusiastically to this billboard as they did the first one—there’s a question of why it’s necessary, what it’s going to accomplish. so a less encouraging response to this billboard might make a lot of people feel disheartened, disappointed.

and christ, that’s not even mentioning the fact that that almost every time this fandom is trending, there’s a wave of “ofmd fans kys” sentiment that is quick to follow. i have long ago accepted that suicide baiting as a regular part of my internet experience, but most people have not (and frankly, they shouldn’t). a lot of people just will stop posting about ofmd if they get attacked for doing so. if that happens, it is 100% going to negatively impact the renewal campaign and our chances of getting picked up by a different studio.

even if none of this happens, even if the morale is boosted tenfold by the new billboard, i just feel like there are other ways to keep the energy up without crowdfunding ridiculous amounts of money. we already have samba gradually doling out bts content in tiny doses and catapulting us through the roof with each one. i’m also a fan of what AdoptOurCrew is doing on twitter, sharing articles and info and coming up with silly little games to play with their followers. it’s not a huge stunt like a billboard, and it’s not gonna get us on the front page of a huge pop culture publication, but we already have a pretty consistent stream coming in of articles mentioning ofmd and the renewal effort. also, yes, what aoc is doing is not the huge adrenaline high of the nyt billboard, but this is gonna be a marathon, not a sprint. there are a lot of ofmd fans, so if we just keep the general fandom feeling reasonably good abt posting ofmd content, that’s more than enough to keep our online presence consistent enough that studios will know we’re invested in that s3. but if we keep chasing highs we’re gonna burn out fast—at the very least just bc ppl are gonna run out of cash.

that’s what my concern comes down to, really: the money. because to me, the use of actual real-world money should go towards boosting visibility, and boosting morale can come from simply engaging in the fandom, doing fun projects, spreading positivity. and i am very, very doubtful that this second billboard is going to increase the show’s visibility to people who aren’t already aware of ofmd and what’s going on with the renewal. i understand that the idea was to capitalize on s2 airing on the bbc–a good idea, but if the intention is to reach this new audience, shouldn’t the ads should go somewhere they’re going to be more visible, more inescapable? the underground would’ve been a good choice, imo, bc the cell service down there sucks and ppl have no choice but to stare at the walls while they wait for the train. but this might have been less effective at boosting morale, because it’s less flashy and a significantly worse place for fans to meet up. so it’s about what the priority is here: is the money primarily for boosting morale, or boosting visibility?

like i said, i think prioritizing morale-boosting is the wrong choice. and even if that wasn’t the intention, i think that’s the only thing that’s gonna be affected in any way by the billboard. but like, that’s why i didn’t donate to the crowdfunding for this billboard (or to the first one tbh). bc ppl can spend their money however they want, even if i think it’s a waste. currently the average donation to the SaveOFMD ko-fi is abt £34, or $40. i’m not gonna get that worked up over a few hundred strangers online spending $40 for something i think is a waste. ppl spend all sorts of money on stuff i think is a waste. who cares.

if everything backfires and the billboard ends up hurting the renewal campaign then… idk. i hope if it blows up into drama that the drama gets to be funny, at least.

#ofmd #save ofmd #txt #mine #og #ofmd fandom crit

[bebethsas]

*giglgles* here’s a rant I’ve had sitting in my drafts for a bit now. I think now is the perfect time to post it. Enjoy Beth’s impassioned ramblings from ~1 month ago (and sorry in advance, I know that this is LONG):

“Chrissy…this is for you.”

 Holyjesusmotherof—

I am on the floor. I am dead. I am lying on my stomach, staring off into the middle distance with a look that can only be described as stunned disbelief, or just straight-up stunned. They would have been a f*cking powderkeg, wouldn’t they?

Dear mother of god, the way he says that, so softly, so reverently, I…

If they’d been given just a smidge more time, they (yes, they) would have loved each other so *fiercely*.

They would have been goddamn explosive. They would have (accidentally) rocked the school to its foundations and razed the HS to the ground (more like, they exist, and the high school tears itself apart because of their relationship’s existence). There is no doubt in my mind that if there was a sliver of a chance for one of them to bring the other back from the dead, they’d do it.

Like, the kind of love where you claw through brick and cinderblock with your bare hands to reach them, and you don’t notice until long afterwards that you’ve torn like…six of your nails, and your hands are bleeding. And sure, you have to keep your hands wrapped in bandages for the next couple of weeks while they heal, but who cares??? What does it matter?? They’re alive, you found them, they’re here. Like the minute one of them is in danger, the other person doesn’t hesitate, they just leap.

Like, yo Bangles, you wanna talk Eternal Flame? That’s an eternal flame. Like, a flame that keeps burning over centuries kind of “Eternal” flame; like the Olympic fire that they’re supposed to keep burning forever and ever (it doesn’t, but shhhhh), like a candle in a sea of darkness that against all odds never, ever goes out. That’s the kind of love I mean here.

Like, saying ‘I’ll find you in the next life,’ and then they do, kind of eternal flame.

Like, “death cannot stop true love, it can only delay it a little while,” kind of un-douseable flame. Not an uncontrollable wildfire, or even a small campfire. Just, this strong yet persevering little candle that provides comfort, joy, and light. Doesn’t hurt nobody, isn’t insatiably hungry or all-consuming, it just…is.

They are an example of true love, and no one can convince me otherwise. And I mean actual true love, like 2 puzzle pieces that naturally click together. It’s like they were made for each other, but it was an *accident*.

It’s not like a deity took a soul, split it in half, and then zotted these 2 halves down onto earth and went ‘here, now go find each other.’ It’s more like they created one soul, and then created another soul, and by sheer coincidence or serendipity or chance or whatever, these two line up perfectly, with no imperfections or jagged bits in the way.

They are Agatha and Oliver (I will elaborate on another post, christ this post got fuckin long).

Jesus christ how can I be so damn shook over one line, that it’s making me spiral and pull out analogies and references that are *deeply* buried in my brain??

I’m gonna end up writing a gottdamn thesis on (the way I view) their relationship, aren’t I?

…yes. Yes, I probably am.

  Anyway, that’s the tale of when I first saw the scene, and had to have a bit of a lie-down for a while, because thoughts were spiraling.

...ok, I wrote tags for this, then realized that I should probably put them in the body of the post too. So:

#no joke those 2 seconds of “Chrissy...this is for you” used to make me literally so weak, that I had to dramatically lean on furniture to stay upright. #the emotion #the goddamn EMOTION

#and Chrissy is such a sweetheart, #and Eddie was so kind and gentle with her...

#you know, you just KNOW, that she would have loved him with the fierceness of a lioness

#because when you’re sad, and scared, and lonely, and feel like none of your supposed ‘loved ones’ can or will listen--or even care (let alone ask) about how you’re doing

#and you are doing EVERYTHING you can just to continue on, #with seemingly ZERO support #to have someone come along and *help* you, #no questions asked, #no returned favors needed or asked for

#to have someone instantly *know* that you’re going through it, #respect your need for privacy, #and treat you so gently and reverently, #like you’re worthy of being loved???

(and again, not comment on the fact that you’re *clearly* going through it, because they respect that it’s probably not any of their business, and you probably don’t *want* to talk about it, and even though you *should* talk about it, they’re not going to push you)

#yeah. #even if they weren’t interested in you romantically, it’s too late #they have your heart now and forever

#genuinely kind people are not easy to find #don’t get me wrong they *exist*, #they’re not *rare*, #they’re just hella hard to FIND

#so once you DO find one?? #yeah you’re glomming onto that person like a barnacle and refusing to let go

#hellcheer #hellcheer rant/ ramble #HELLCHEER IS TRUE LOVE OK??? #also you get a cookie if you read the entire thing! X3

[liminalmemories21]

Hi Lim! Here's a little dialogue prompt for you:

"Quick! Under here!"

There’s a pillow fort in the middle of the living room that definitely wasn’t there when he left for work this morning. He walks around it admiring its structural integrity, and wonders vaguely if there are any blankets or sheets left in the house to sleep on tonight.

There’s a telltale loud whisper from the staircase that quickly gets shushed and he pretends he hadn’t heard it, continuing to examine the pillow fort, looking for the entrance.  There’s a circle of books around the outer edge that he’s pretty sure is supposed to be a moat, and this is officially the most elaborate pillow fort he's ever seen, and Andrew is going to throw an epic fit when they have to dismantle it.

He doesn't blame Jonah.  They’d woken him up at 7 am this morning and dumped Andrew on him when his camp had called to say that a sewer main had broken overnight and the camp was currently a hazmat site. He’s intensely grateful Andrew's camp is outside the 126 jurisdiction or TK would probably have been there dealing with it.

Still Jonah was on spring break and it had poured all day, and in his experience anything you need to do to get through a rainy day with an 8 year old  without tearing your hair out is acceptable. He’d expected to come home to find they'd watched Disney and eaten popcorn and candy all day, a kind of historically accurate pillow fort taking over the living room is actually pretty incredible.

There’s another loud whisper that indicates he’s not doing what he’s supposed to be doing, namely setting himself up to be ambushed on his way up the stairs.  He grins and loudly looks around the living room, proclaiming, “Guess there’s nobody home, I’ll just have to go upstairs all by myself “

There’s a giggle and a snort from the top of the staircase and he grins, slowly, deliberately making his way up the stairs. He gets tackled as soon as he hits the landing and goes down into a pile of pillows - thank you Jonah - under the flying weight of a determined 8 year old. He lets out an oof at the elbow to his spleen and disentangles himself from his bag and turns the tables, tickling Andrew until he eels out of the clutches of Carlos's fingers running down the hall squealing with hilarity. He hoists himself up and gives chase. Halfway down the hall Jonah sticks an arm out to pull Andrew into the guest room. "Quick!  Under here!"

Jonah’s leaning innocently in the doorway by the time Carlos gets there.  He smirks.  "Hey Carlos, good day?"

He grins at Jonah. "I was looking for an outlaw who waylaid me on my way home. You haven’t seen him have you?"

There’s a loud giggle from under the bed behind Jonah.  Jonah shakes his head sadly, "Sorry don't know who you're talking about. Maybe you should check in one of the other rooms?"

Carlos raises an eyebrow, and wonders what other ambushes have been set up for him.  Jonah shrugs and inclines his head meaningfully in the direction of the master bedroom.

He steps into his and TK's bedroom a little cautiously, not seeing any immediate changes, and then whirls when the door slams closed behind him, and he hears the sound of two bodies sliding down to hold it closed.  He hears the garage opening, which means TK's home, and he goes ahead and changes while he waits for whatever the next act of this play is going to be.

He doesn't have to wait long.  There's a low exclamation as TK discovers the living room blanket fort, and then a louder one when he gets to the landing with the pile of pillows and Carlos's abandoned bag, and then he can hear TK clearly through the door.

"We're holding Dad hostage," Andrew tells him.

He can picture the look on TK's face.  "Congratulations on trapping the wily Dad beast."  

There's a pause and then Jonah prompting, "Maybe ask your Pops if he wants to ransom your Dad."

Carlos grins helplessly, and TK obediently says.  "Is there anything you'd be willing to take in ransom for Dad?"

"PIzza!" Andrew says gleefully.  "And ice cream sundaes."

TK hmms.  "On a weekday?  I don't know, that seems like an awfully steep price for one Dad."

He bangs on the door.  "Hey!  I can hear you, you know."

TK and Jonah both snort.  Andrew sounds contemplative.  "We could get broccoli on the pizza, that's like having a salad."

He hears TK's cough of laughter, and leans against the wall to see what TK's counter offer will be.  "How about we let Jonah pick the pizza, but you have to eat your salad before you can have the pizza."

"And sundaes," Jonah bargains.

"Yes, sundaes," he calls from behind the door, and hears TK's contemplative hmm, and bangs on the door again.  "I'm not worth a little fudge sauce?"

"I don't remember that in the wedding vows," TK says, but he's laughing.  And then Carlos hears Andrew getting picked up, and his laughter as TK swings him around.  "Yes, and ice cream sundaes."

Jonah stands to let him out, shaking his head.  "Your husband drives a tough bargain, wasn't sure he was gonna cave on the sundaes."

He leans in, "I'll let you in on a secret."  Jonah tilts his head.  "TK will always cave on sundaes."

#tarlos #911 lonestar #writing prompt

[redsoul-writing]

Heyy!!

I'm new to your blog and wanted to request some headcanons for Ace, Marco and Shanks with a gn! so who is asexual? Like just how they would react and deal with it.

Thank you if you accept!! <3

Welcome!! I’m pretty new to this too so bare with me. I’m starting to understand headcanons more and I enjoy writing them so thanks! I didn’t know much about asexual orientation so I had to do a little bit of research, but I’m glad I learned something new today :)

Ace

•Ace will be confused at first, and ask you to elaborate. He had heard of it before but did not completely understand what it meant to be asexual.

•Once you explain it to him, he’ll nod his head and think for a moment. He’ll assure you that he has no problem with it and he still loves you no matter what.

•He’ll probably be more encouraged to make you feel loved, and won’t initiate sexual activity in order to respect your boundaries/wishes.

“I’m glad you told me Y/n. I’ll always love you!”

•It’ll also probably raise his confidence a little, that you’d still love him without sexual desire.

Overall, fireboy is still learning but he’s trying his best to understand and make sure you’re comfortable. <33

Marco

•Marco immediately understands what you mean, he’s much more aware of these things than Ace is. (lmao)

•Non-chalante about it.

“

•Marco will be happy that you felt comfortable enough to open up and tell him about your orientation. If he had any worry about your comfort with him before, it’s all out the window now. (He won’t say that though, will keep it to himself.)

•He’ll spend more time planning dates and romantic gestures. From a nice dinner to a calm night under the stars, gazing.

•He’ll kiss your forehead as a way to assure you that he doesn’t think any different of you.

Shanks

•Shanks, much like Ace, will also be confused. But while Ace has some kind of idea of sexual orientation, Shanks is clueless. He’s more of a ‘do whatever you want’ like the pirate free spirit. That includes love and attraction.

•You’ll have to explain the whole thing to him, why you told him. Some of the reasons being that you just wanted him to know, another being that sometimes people just don’t respect the idea of asexuality.

•Shanks of course is completely understanding and tells you that you don’t have to worry about that with him. He wants his lover to feel free doing what ever they wish.

•Shanks wont make any sexual advances, and will go with the flow if you initiate anything.

•Will cuddle you a lot more, like, ALOT.

“I love you, y/n.” He said as he softly kissed your forehead

“About those people.. if anyone bothers you about it just tell me, alright darlin’?”

I tried my best, I’ll admit I didn’t do as good as I’d hoped but I’ll get better the more I write :)

Hope you enjoyed these! <33

#one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece #romance #shanks x you #akagami no shanks #portgas ace x reader #portgas d. ace #ace x reader #marco one piece #one piece marco #marco x y/n #marco x reader #shanks #ace x you

[thiscrimsonsoul]

Semi-Hiatus From 10/21 Until 10/28

{out of paprikash} Hello, everyone. I received some very bad family news early this morning. I'll elaborate more under a cut for those who want to know, since I know many people don't want to hear about personal issues on rp blogs, and that's totally okay. I want all my blogs to be safe spaces for everyone. But the upshot is, I may not have very much time to write in the upcoming week, so I'll only be working on blogs whose characters I have a lot of muse for. I’ll leave @tarnishedxknight open, since I have a lot of muse for those characters, and I might write my Resident Evil muses (@youmissedone, @checkxmaster, and @freewillacquired) on their scheduled Wednesday (10/25) if time/muse allows. All other blogs, I will likely skip this week.

It’s hard for me to gauge, because sometimes when I get very upset/stressed, I want to write as a comfort/escape, but at other times I can’t even make words. There may be days when I write a lot and others when I write nothing. I’m sorry for anyone waiting for a reply, but all of this was very unexpected. I’m going to say I’ll be back next Saturday (10/28), but if that changes I'll let you know. Thanks so much for understanding. In the meantime, I hope you all are doing well. <3

Alright so... I don't want to go into a lot of details and overshare and make people uncomfortable, so I'll just quickly summarize what's going on.

I have a very toxic grandmother (she's 93) that me and my dad share time with my aunt with. She lives with us for 6 months out of the year and with her for 6 months, in a 2-2-4-4 breakdown. My grandma is so damaging to the mental health of whoever is taking care of her, and she greatly limits your freedom and ability to have a life because she can't be left alone for very long at all which is hard to deal with with work and whatnot, so we have to share time to keep our mental health from getting too bad. She causes my dad and I anxiety, depression, etc., but I won't go into detail as to all the reasons why. It's... a long story.

Anyway, Halloween is our happy time of year, because we love the season, we do a lot for it, and grandma is gone from August to December. Well... my aunt called today. She was just diagnosed with cancer and will need various treatments, so she can't take care of grandma anymore. We are getting her back two months early, we have to take down all our decorations for Halloween (she's very Christian and hates it), and we've had to cancel all our plans for Halloween and my birthday (some of which we had tickets and reservations we can't get refunds for), because when she's here, we can't leave the house for very long or go very far.

So at the height of when we were at our happiest and ready for Halloween and whatever else, we have to suddenly kindof... shut it all down... and accept back into our lives before we're ready this toxic person we were supposed to have a break from. And there will be no more breaks in the future, that's the worst part. Well, my aunt having cancer is the worst part, but you know what I mean. It's just all been a shock for us in so many ways.

*sigh* So yeah. If you've read this far, thank you for caring enough to do so, you deserve all the good things and I hope they come to you. I'll be okay, I just have to process everything, accept my new normal, somehow get through it. And I have to hope my aunt will be okay, forget about Halloween, and forget anything else me and my dad wanted to do for the foreseeable future. I am also getting laid off soon, probably after next semester according to my boss, so I need to find a new job. With grandma living with us all the time and my dad needing help to take care of her, I am extremely limited by what jobs I can look for, so that's another big source of anxiety. I just have to find a way through this, because I don't have a choice.

Again, thanks for understanding, and hopefully I can sort through this all in my head, get done everything that needs to get done in the next few days, and be ready to come back to my regular rp schedule next weekend. But like I said, I'll let everyone know if that changes.

#{ out of paprikash } ᵒᵒᶜ #tw: cancer #tw: anxiety #tw: toxic family

[alittlefrenchtree]

Oh? Tell us more about Nick and Taylor's chemistry please. Curious Anon here! What do you mean by how interested you are in the nature of it and how it reflects on screen? Please elaborate 😊

Ok, so.

I don’t want my words to be misunderstood or lead to negativity so I might be extra cautious with things I’ll be saying.

Where to start? 

After my first watch, I remember saying *I think I like them better as BFF than as soulmates*. Six months down the line, things have obviously changed but I feel like there’s still a sense of that in few of my favorite scenes to watch, such as the New Year Eve party, the infamous turkey scene or the coffee in Paris scene. They’re flirty but we’re still closer to the start of the relationship than the end of the movie.

After my first watch, when I eventually stumbled into a few videos of them as Nick and Taylor and saw them as they are, I said oh. right. this is what I’ve seen shine so brightly through the movie.

So, that was me a few days in the fandom.

Obviously things are a little bit more nuanced now that I had time to watch and think more about everything. Because their chemistry also work in scenes where they are definitely not friends. Sex scenes were definitely not a problem since they feel right in all of them and there are also scenes through the second half of the movie where their chemistry is perfect for me. I love the.. pontoon? (No idea how it’s called) scene. Even if I wouldn’t put it in a list of my favorite, it’s probably one of the most beautiful scene of the movie. I love the piano scene as well.

But there is also a whole segment of the movie where they've kind of lost me in terms of chemistry. And writing this post is making me realize that most of the scenes I’m talking about are actually scenes that happen in a row: from the moment Alex storms into the (fucking) castle to Alex leaving all the way through the V&A scene. I guess I was waiting to feel things I haven't really felt. Not everything fall into Taylor and Nick’s responsibility obviously (I could pinpoint blocking and writing and editing), but these were moments the chemistry should have crossed the screen to wreak my heart and didn’t really. 

And I don’t know about their filming schedule exactly, but my guess is that maybe at this point they had fell (too much?) into that friendship/banter energy off screen, and it had leaked a bit on what they were doing on screen. Which did great for some scenes and a bit less for others. Because learning that the coffee scene was the first one they shot made a lot of sense with the rightness of their energy there. Alex and Henry have obviously known each other for a while, but, in many ways, the scene feels like a first date. And since this was the first scene for Taylor and Nick, they naturally were exactly where they needed to be. With the shyness and the tension, but that urge to know each other and just start whatever they were starting as characters and as actors.

So yeah. This isn’t me saying they haven’t any chemistry or haven’t enough of it. They obviously have, and it did help for the majority of the movie. But, for me, there were some moments, when the nature of their chemistry off screen might has made the process of hitting the right spot on screen more difficult. I don’t know.

And I do believe that seeing or not seeing chemistry in people is the most subjective thing you can think of. I’ve seen people melt over the chemistry shared by two people who looked (for me) like they never met in their entire lives and I’ve also seen the opposite so, you know. All opinions are valuable in this context and nothing is an absolute truth.

And if you’re wondering why I didn’t mention the night scene in Paris: I have another ask about it, so we’ll have plenty of time to discuss at length about it. Just probably not today 😅

And once again, thank you for the question 🙏💜

#alft asks #i'm not sure of how much i want to tag this actually #i do love the movie i promise 😅

[ghostofskywalker]

Close Quarters

Sharon Carter/Reader

Fictober Day 14 of 31

Words: 962

Summary: Sam and Bucky thought it was a good idea to lock you in a closet with your crush. Luckily, they're more perceptive about the situation than you are. 

Sharon Carter Masterlist

You were really starting to regret ever telling Sam and Bucky who you had a crush on, because the two of them really didn’t know how to let things go. It didn’t help that they apparently wanted to play matchmaker for you either, because now you were stuck in a too-small storage closet, a very confused Sharon Carter wedged in there with you.

At first, everything about this day had seemed normal, but you should have known something was up when Bucky came marching into your office with a mile wide grin on his face.

“There’s my favorite mission analyst!” he said brightly, and you looked up from your computer screen to see him leaning over the ledge that separated your desk from the rest of the office. “Good morning Y/N!”

“You’re in a good mood this morning,” you commented, raising your eyebrows at him. “Did you trick Sam into putting salt in his coffee instead of sugar again?”

“Not this morning, he managed to figure out the plan,” he said, shaking his head. “But one of these days I’ll get him again, don’t you worry.”

“So what’s got you all smiley then?”

“I can’t just feel joy when I come to visit my favorite member of the support squad? Why do you think I need to have a reason to be in a good mood?” You shot him a glare. “Fine, I need you to do me a favor.”

“That sounds more like the Bucky I know,” you said. “What’s the problem?”

“Can you help me do the inventory on the third floor storage closet?” he asked, a hopeful look on his face. “Steve was supposed to be the one I was working with, but he got called for a mission at the last minute and it’s a lot of stuff I need to sort through.”

“No problem,” you responded, finishing up whatever email you had been in the middle of drafting when Bucky had walked in. Today was rather slow anyway, and other than the mission Steve had just left on (which another member of the support team was handling), there really wasn’t too much for you to do.

“Great! Meet me up there after lunch?” Bucky asked, with a glint in his eye that you probably should have realized meant something was up. But you didn’t catch his scheming expression, and you just agreed before he flounced out of the room.

You were so going to kill them when you got out of this damn closet. All of the storage closets in the compound locked from outside too, so you were completely stuck in here until someone came to your aid, which wasn’t likely, because this floor was rarely used.

“I’m so sorry you got stuck in here with me,” you said to Sharon. “Those two morons are just trying to prove a point.”

“And what point would that be?” Sharon asked, confusion showing on her face.

Shit. Now you had to either make something up on the fly or just tell the truth. “Well, uh-” you started to say. “Sam and Bucky seem to think that you like me,” you managed to get the words out without throwing up. “And despite me telling them several times that they need to leave you alone, apparently they don’t know how to listen.”

“And what if they’re right?” Sharon’s voice was so quiet that you almost didn’t hear when she spoke, and you honestly thought you were dreaming as you registered her words.

“What do you mean?” There were so many other things you could have said in this moment, so many other ways to get your point across, but right now your brain had essentially stopped working and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“You are so confident that Sam and Bucky have it all wrong, that all this was done as an elaborate way to get back at you for something,” she said. “But you haven’t even entertained the idea that I could feel the same way, and that this was done just as much for me as it was for you.”

“You-” at this point it was a struggle to get any words out, let alone words that made you look not like a lovesick fool. “Like me?”

Instead of a traditional answer, she simply moved closer to you, and now if you just leaned in a little, you could kiss her. “Can I?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Hoping you knew what she was asking, you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed, and suddenly her lips were on yours. Perfect was not enough to explain the sensation you felt from the very first moment, and if you died right then and there, you would have died the happiest person on the planet.

Or you would have, until the door to the closet opened and the light from the hallway came flooding in. “Alright guys, time-” Sam started to speak, and the two of you pulled apart from each other, both wearing matching glares on your faces as you stared at the two who had locked you in here.

You didn’t have to say anything else though, because they realized what they had just walked in on and took off, sprinting down the hall. “I’m gonna kill them!” you said, turning in the direction that they went with every intention to start running after them.

Sharon squeezed your hand to stop you, and she leaned in to place a quick kiss on your lips, effectively replacing all your thoughts of revenge with desire to kiss her once more. “We can get them later, alright? Right now I think we still have some lost time to make up for.”

She was definitely right about that.

- the end - 

#ghostofskywalker.fictober #sharon carter #sharon carter x reader #sharon carter x you #sharon carter x y/n #sharon carter fanfiction #sharon carter x gender neutral reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction