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#If they get together they should have a ship name
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Jason Todd and Percy Jackson parallels but by someone who actually reads comics and was technically never a Harry P*tter kid so it's accurate
Black hair,green eyes and supernatural white streak combo
Poor and hate rich people even though they ended up gaining a rich dad and refuse to actively associate with him on principal
Said dad's inflicted brutal trauma on them(though to Bruce's credit it was an accident and he genuinely loves Jason while Poseidon's just a deadbeat who refuse to parent Percy to keep us his 'image' because that's 'women's aka Sally's work',grown ass god)so they claim their mom as their only parent and are just huge mama's people in general,which is perfectly understandable even on it's own considering their mom's are fucking TALIA AL-GHUL AND SALLY JACKSON.Who wouldn't?
Respect women,disrespect men
The EXACT SAME sardonic and little shit attitude and created their own type of sense's of humor that can only be described by using their names to be truly accurate
Physical inability to not run their mouths dating way back to when they were little kids,closed off not out of fragile masculinity(I mean Jason's goth and Percy's a transfem egg so?)but as defense mechanisms,have anger issues and merciless tendencies and complex feelings on morality because of heavy life experiences due to being screwed over by the system as minorities(poor,neurodivergent and Percy's transfemininity she won't even let herself admit)and can be scary as shit when they do and don't want to
Punks with the ideals,behavior,lifestyles and interests you'd expect but also super dorky ones on all fronts too
Don't actively pursue romance and the thought of doing so is VERY unppealing to them and they dunk on romance norms like the true punks they are and they DO have good canon ships but sadly none endgame(Jayrose,Jaytemis and Jaydana are banger after banger after BANGER but DC hates Jason so they won't let him enter his malewife era and Perachel was the best ship for Percy but got shafted for the sake of ruining Annabeth)
They refuse to be normal in general because conformity disgusts them but also they just kinda.Can't turn the weirdness off,ever(It's their bptistic swag)
Ethan=Rose.Wasians with an eyepatch because their abusive god(ish)parent took their eye out,gloomy and moody,swords users,were groomed into the villain life as little kids and never considered real love interests for Percy and Jason despite tons of chemistry via bickering flirtatious banter and 'I really do care about you' undertones.Their heritage and unpalpability as victims undoubtedly plays a role in this as Luke and Slade are the easy and accepatable villains to stan as opposed to the oh so horrific and unlovable realistic survivors
Super chaotic and unrestrained
Team Parents because of childhood trauma and they did fumble a bit at first out of lack of experience but now they've got it downpat
Huge love for food that's not good for you(i.e fast/junk/desserts)
Make a big show when they're feeling particularly cocky or want to intimidate and it's real easy for them to thanks to experience and being able to walk the walk for the shit they talk
Claimed by afro-caribbeans and we're right and should say it(Those are monoracial dominican third gen iminigrants ma'am)
Get horndog allegations,are actually demisexual and don't care about white boys or white girls when it comes to attraction(Percy's canon namesake was married to the Princess of Ethopia and Jason hates Roy and barely cares about Tim,please be serious)
Or when it comes to platonic relathionships!!If they're to be a trinity the perfect 3rd is Miles Morales like how Hazel is Nico and Percy's and Jason's Robin and Batgirl are Duke and Stephanie and he wouldn't have it any other way
There's a significant difference that makes them all the more interesting together though-Jason's story is a selfmade tragedy where he choose hurt and darkness and even evil again and again for a long ass time until his redemption arc that he actually worked for and Percy's is that she's NEVER done anything wrong in her entire fucking life,she DIDN'T mean to hurt anyone,she WAS a good,good kid and she grew up to be an even better adult who's good at so many good things and good to so many people.Jason is Percy's legit foil and deserves that title more than any fascistic misogynist character does
They're the son of no one and the daughter of Poseidon and Sally Jackson.Them(and the 1610 Spiderman)are my characters ever
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danidarkarts · 24 days
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Thank you for the kind words! I hope you do draw Iron Hands! That would rule!💙
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You've twisted my arm fellow artist @b-dangerous. Since he is my favorite lil guy.
Iron Hands wants to know if they can be friends with your Iron Thorns 👀?
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kogglyuffs · 5 months
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mintcocoa but w manon n rody cuz my brain is silly
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demonicfarmer69 · 2 months
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woah jzx how come u get to have TWO baddies?
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beanghostprincess · 3 months
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A small time skip it's usopp watching his dad slow dance with zeff. He looked so content happy, like genuinely happy being held. Usopp is trying not to cry watching them. Sanji at first hated it at first but seeing his father enjoy himself made him happy.
Also a formally repressed gay seeing another formally repressed gay be happy and actually living their truth what's there to be mad about.
Sanji: you think this is going to last?/usopp: I hope so. They deserve /sanji: hmmm /usopp: heeeey don't be like that. This is really important for my dad. Look at them. It's cute/Sanji: yeah yeah I guess it's a little cute. They do look happy. Both of them do / red hair pirates:KISSSS!!! FUCKING KISS EACH OTHER ALREADY MwahMwahMwah!!! / Shanks: with tongue!! / Sanji: ok he ruined it/ Usopp: I guess I wasn't the only one waiting for this moment
This is,,, So cute. Because I think that after talking things out and understanding better why they both need that relationship, Sanji would be wayyy more open-minded about it and actively happy for them. The old men deserve to be in a healthy, loving relationship !!!!!!!
But the other pirates have to ruin their moments every time and Sanji hates every second of it. Shanks makes a joke about "if these two had a kid you'd be BOTH their broth-" and Usopp has to physically hold Sanji back from kicking the shit out of him.
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Thinking about Izzy with hanahaki, coughing up flowers over Ed for like 25-30 years. Yeah it sucks but its not gonna kill him. Obviously keeps it a secret (From Ed at least, Fang and Ivan caught on but they don’t wanna get involved in All That so they keep it to themselves and help Izzy out when he gets bad spells. None of them mention it but Izzy is grateful, which makes it all the worse when they start palling around with the Revenge crew over Izzy :’Tc).
(Uh, readmore cause I didn’t expect this to get. Like. Huge. lmao)
Then Stede Fucking Bonnet comes along and things get worse as he watches Ed fall for Stede, even if he doesn’t really understand. Still, he manages. Gotta push through, Ed would expect nothing less.
And when Stede leaves and the Kraken happens Izzy goes through a good bit of hell. Ed is barely out the room after the toe incident before Izzy is hacking up so many flowers he thinks he might actually die this time. He doesn’t, though. Cleans himself up, puts his shaky legs to work. (And then Lucius finds out, doesn’t really matter who pulled him back on board, Izzy knows about it because none of them are subtle. He keeps the secret because. He’s really not sure. But Lucius is in the walls and he hears Izzy having a fit and now he knows. He wants to ask. Tries to, even, Izzy shuts him down and he’s not even angry when he does it. Just. Defeated. Lucius silently adds another thing to his ‘Things I’m Gonna Bitch At Blackbeard For Once He’s Not Crazy Anymore’ list.)
When Stede comes back its. Better. For a while. There’s a lot of hurt all around but everyone is alive and they’re (mostly) talking it through as a crew. Ed makes his apologies to the crew, even to Izzy. Stede makes his apologies as well. Izzy accepts that This Is His Life Now. Since Stede seems to actually want to learn now that he can’t just throw money at all his problems Izzy offers to actually teach him (instead of ‘teaching’ him like Ed does). He shows him the ropes (literally), gets him passable with a sword, keeps Ed focused when he’s teaching him navigation (not Izzy’s strong suit, he can manage if he needs to but Ed’s always been better at it). They actually find themselves getting along.
Izzy starts joining the crew during ‘story time’ (sometimes its stories, sometimes its other group activities, easier to just give it the one label). One night, after Stede finishes the story and everyone is heading to bed, he watches Stede and Ed head to their cabin. Sometimes they’ll ask him along for a night cap, not always though, and its. Fine. But. He watches them head off without him. The way they hold each other as they go, smiling, only eyes for each other.
He barely makes it to his room before he’s coughing up the most flowers he’s done since Ed fed him his toe. He, frustratedly, sets to work cleaning them up but. He actually stops to look at them. He stares. And stares and stares.
Two distinct types of flowers littler his floor. He tries to deny it but he understands immediately the implications. Fuck.
Still, Izzy is nothing if not the worlds most repressed trooper. He sticks it out. Or. Tries to. Its hard because Stede and Ed keep asking after him and seeking him out and talking and touching him and. Its just camaraderie he knows but. It makes him want. And he knows he can’t have that. He wouldn’t have a damn botanical garden in his chest if he could. Its starting to take its toll on him though. He can tell its getting bad because Stede and Ed are starting to worry about him. They don’t say it in so many words but he can see it in their eyes. Ed is more hesitant to go on raids, makes up some excuse about his knee playing up more than usual, but Izzy knows it because he can see how his hands shake even when at rest and he’s thinking about him slipping up in a fight. Stede’s plying him with herbal teas and feeding him several small meals throughout the day, he’s noticed Izzy can’t stomach much anymore, how he’s getting weaker by the day because of it.
He leaves after Lucius catches him having another fit. A bad one. He says he’s going to get the captains but Izzy begs him not to. ‘Not yet,’ he lies, ‘I’ll tell them myself but. Just. Give me some time.’ Lucius begrudgingly agrees, gives him two days. ‘And if you haven’t told them by then I’m going to do it myself and you can thank me later.’ Izzy leaves that night.
He shouldn’t be surprised, when he finds Calico Jack in some seedy bar at the nearest port he can reach, though he is. ‘Thought you were dead.’ He finds himself relieved he’s not, its nice to have a familiar face around if he’s gonna die here. (He knows he’s dying. Not immediately, he’s got more fight in him than that, but. Its coming on the horizon and he knows it. Like he knows a storm eventually follows a red dawn.)
Jack eyes him, calculating, never as drunk as he pretends to be. Izzy doesn’t know what he sees but he breaks into his usual grin and says, ‘Nah, still got - what is it - four? Four lives left. Take more than some crazy bird’s cursed cannon ball to take down Calico Jack, babydoll.’ If it were anybody else, Izzy would be bristling at the nickname, but he’s long since resigned himself to being called things like that from Jack. Jack loses his easy grin though and adds ‘You look a bit like death fuckin warmed over though, fuck happened to you?’ There’s genuine care in his tone and it reminds Izzy so much of Ed and Stede and, thank fuck Jack seems to notice because Izzy’s slapping a hand over his mouth and Jack is taking his arm and they barely make it to the shitty little room Jack’s occupying before the petals start spilling out. Jack holds him through the fit, its nice. Izzy almost regrets when its over because Jack sets him down on the bed and steps back, fixes him with a look he’s too exhausted to decipher. ‘Fuck.’ He says, eventually. ‘Think we’re gonna need a drink for this.’ The alcohol burns his tender throat but he knows Jack is gonna get him to talk anyway and its easier with the rum so he drinks. And he talks.
Jack doesn’t call him an idiot but its strongly implied. Izzy doesn’t know what he expects him to do, its not as if he chose this. He doesn’t call him an idiot though, instead he. Takes care of him? Its odd, he knows Jack isn’t as callous and heartless as he pretends to be, knows he’s actually got pretty good bedside manners in fact (There’d been a time before all the legend and everything after when they were all sailing together, they’d lost their medic during a raid and Jack stepped up. He was no doctor but he knew enough to keep everyone from dying til they go someone new. He also had a child and Izzy knew, for all that he was regularly absent from their life, he wasn’t an absent father. He knew how to care for people.), but it surprises him nonetheless to have it turned towards him. Like it matters to him that Izzy is as comfortable as he can be, given the circumstances.
Izzy manages to be up and around most days but they’re growing fewer. Lacking much better to do (he’s never been good at sitting idle) he follows Jack around when he can manage to get out of bed. On days where he can’t Jack still goes out, Izzy wonders why, he mostly just drinks and fucks around, its hardly as if he can’t do that here with Izzy. He supposes he must not make for very good company, sorry state he’s in. Still.
He’s more than a bit annoyed that it takes him hacking up even more flowers after Jack leaves one morning, with a ‘Be back sometime this evening Babydoll, I got something for you,’ to realize. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ he rasps, staring down at the mound of three distinct types of petals. He’s so tired. He’ll clean it up later, promises himself he’ll be up before Jack gets back to clean them up.
He dreams of warm hands, fond smiles, soft touches, and tender voices and wakes coughing up more and more flowers. He can’t breathe. Tears sting his eyes, from the pain in his throat and his lungs, at the thought of being alone at the end like this. He spares a brief thought towards how Jack will react, coming back this evening to find him gone. Wonders how Stede would react. Edward. Still more flowers.
The door bursts open and Izzy doesn’t have the air or the energy to startle. Jack. Jack is there and he looks panicked. And there’s Stede behind him. And Edward. Somehow Izzy finds the air to let out a hysterical little laugh, it comes out more of a gasp. Must have died already, he thinks, how else could they all be here, as though his thoughts summoned them.
‘Izzy!’ He’s not sure which of them is calling him, his vision is starting to go spotty and his ears are ringing. Maybe none of them, maybe its a trick of his desperate, dying mind. There’s hands on him, warm and soft and. Instinct tells him to fight, he can’t see who’s touching him, he knows he needs to fight but. He’s so tired. He can’t see but he feels his eyes slip shut.
‘Izzy, I love you.’
Nothing.
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camellcat · 4 months
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I keep writing these very short rosesimm ficlets cause I can't stop thinking about them, which makes me want to check the tag on ao3 cause, y'know, I'M writing so SURELY if I KEEP CLICKING then it'll update, but alas. the tag doesn't change and I'm just stuck with my own shitty writing to keep me fed </3
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lan-wangjis-autism · 1 year
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I feel like He Xuan, Mobei-Jun, and Nie Mingjue should start a club
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dirt-str1der · 2 years
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I literally had a dream about reading the worst fan fiction like fucking ever kiryu was just randomly a yandere and nishiki was trying his best to survive also kiryu turned into a dragon (deez nuts) halfway and let nishiki kill him for being a bad boy but he was so upset about having to kill his bro that he just lay in the corpse for a bit and thats when i decided to stop reading and i literally opened tumblr in my dream to complain about how bad it was like the writing went back and forth from being terrible to incredible and i found myself enjoying some parts and despising others. I skipped the first few chapters so i had to tab back out and read the summary like why are they in a beach resort and the summary didnt just tell me nothing but it was also double spaced between each line and very fucking irritating and while reading it i kept thinking this is extremely ooc and boring like they would not fucking say that
#Listen to my problems#i cant stress enough that i dont even ship them why did i read a sex fic about kiryu and nishikiyamer#like i believe they are the bestest of friends forever and ever and like as hotblooded young men growing up together they must have tried a#few sex moves on each other at least once but i dont think they see each other as romantic prospects. like unlike majima and saejima#(seajima) who are literally together all the time and will never travel anywhere without the other unless its to prison. kiryu and nishiki#have this understanding that eventually theyll have to part ways and find their own path. while they would always remain in each others#hearts and thoughts they knew that they couldnt be holding hands forever and besides they have to focus on getting kazama to the top not#each other !! so nishiki was very happy that kiryu was getting his own family soon even if it meant that kiryu was getting ‘ahead’ of him#and kiryu who can accept consequences for himself but no one else was just like um ... well nishiki please give me the gun and take yumi#your sister needs you or whatever <3 i am definitely expendble and prison life is for me yayy yayyyy i love going to jail so nobody can talk#to me ever again. i keep asking myself how difficult it would have been for kiryu to just pop in by the hospital every now and then to check#in on nishikis sister. its not like he cant take care of her. its not like he doesnt know how to earn money. he just straight up thinks that#nishiki is better than him so he should be the one to get locked up ... because nishiki can take care of yumi and i straigh up forgot his si#sisters name and reina and kazama without him. and nishikis like damn i wish kiryu was here so bad (looks at his wwkd bracelet) hm think ill#go insane. i literally forgot what my original point was but that fic was so bad guys im so glad it doesnt exist#in it kiryu was trying his best to keep nishiki in one place and he kept being very. well kiryu was just kiryu but he kept apologising#saying things like you cant leave yet ... and looking at him with his big sad eyes and nishiki would always be like f-fine ... (he doesnt#like it here) also nishiki was one hell of a princess type and had a nurse costume on at some point which means the yakuza server nishiki#propoganda is working on me. very weird. love the part when kiryu was randomly a big dragon because he utterly filled the hallways of their#little beach shack and his scales were nice and soft and he was lovely. little guy
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samboverse · 1 year
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I think my fave part about oc ships isn’t when u shove two characters together and make them kiss, it’s when you create the scenario that ends in their kiss. Something about the pining turns me into a feral dog chomping on lettuce
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force-of-naature · 8 months
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My tumblr usage has become very sporadic over the past few years - I forget it exists until I find some new hobby or show or person to be obsessed with, I come back and reblog or like a bunch of stuff about said hobby/show/person, forget the app exists again and repeat the cycle over and over until my dashboard and profile are just a patchwork of really odd and things I now know an odd amount about
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halfvalid · 9 months
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Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss
intertwined ribbons
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ABOUT
alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated
rating: general audiences/teen & up
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k
description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.
tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor
author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol
(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)
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“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion. 
“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?” 
“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!” 
“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.” 
You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.” 
“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.” 
“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.” 
You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman. 
You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought. 
Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.” 
“Am not.”
“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her. 
“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”
Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.” 
You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed. 
“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.” 
“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.” 
Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated. 
“I am not—”
“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.” 
You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand. 
You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—
“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?” 
“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.” 
“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.” 
You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up. 
“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.” 
With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said. 
“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.” 
You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?” 
“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe. 
The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about. 
“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.” 
You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed. 
“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.” 
You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?” 
Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.” 
“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.” 
Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.” 
You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?” 
“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.” 
“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.” 
Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.” 
The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.” 
“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room. 
You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.
A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.
“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?” 
Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door. 
“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.” 
“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!” 
“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on? 
You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled. 
Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”
You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you. 
“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.” 
You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably. 
“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor. 
You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.” 
The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?” 
Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.” 
“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.” 
Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in. 
“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there. 
“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.” 
“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin. 
You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?” 
“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair. 
“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly. 
“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief. 
“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed. 
“Get up. Don’t be stupid.” 
“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.” 
Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said. 
“Okay, so neither of us do.” 
Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”
You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.” 
“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?” 
“Uh, nothing.” 
“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?” 
It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?” 
“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.” 
“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it. 
“Well?” Zoro prompted. 
“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.” 
“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 
Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.” 
You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.” 
“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.” 
“I haven’t—”
“Don’t.” 
You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.” 
Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?” 
“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.” 
“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?" 
“Positive. It’s all me.” 
“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”
“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed. 
You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.
You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?” 
There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”
“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.” 
There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?” 
Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.” 
“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered. 
“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh. 
“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.” 
“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.” 
You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him. 
“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?” 
“Hm?” 
“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—” 
“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought. 
“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”
Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?” 
You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.” 
“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.” 
“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe. 
Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered. 
“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped. 
Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?” 
“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.” 
You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.” 
“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.” 
You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. 
Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between. 
You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body. 
He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly. 
You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered. 
Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught. 
He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.
So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black. 
The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn. 
Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together. 
“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?” 
“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.” 
“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.” 
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…” 
“First?” you prompted. 
Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.
A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go. 
The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight. 
A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”
“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.
“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—” 
“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”
“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.” 
“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.” 
You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while. 
Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass. 
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© halfvalid 2023
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sage-nebula · 17 days
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I've watched pretty much all of Jenny Nicholson's videos (despite not being into most of the things she's into) for a variety of reasons, but one of the reasons I watch her content is because I think that she seems like a truly stand-up kind of person. Of course, given that she is a person creating content for YouTube, we're only allowed to see the version of herself that she wants us to see. I'm under no illusions about that. But the version of herself that she presents to us, the viewers, seems to be a person who is not only genuinely passionate about the things she discusses (and honest about why she'll hold back on discussing certain topics when fans of those topics can be awful about it), but also who considers the experiences of (for lack of a better phrase) the average person when it comes to the theme parks and other experiences that she reviews.
Three specific instances come to mind: one from the Evermore video, and then two from her most recent Star Wars hotel video. (Side note: she was so, so right that Disney marketing is stupid as hell for not letting influencers et cetera use the common names for things. The average person doesn't know what "Galactic Starcruiser" is, but will understand "Star Wars hotel." Get it together, Disney.)
In the Evermore video, Jenny talks about how she emailed Evermore Park ahead of her visit to try to get more information prior to her visit. Things like whether there was a dress code, what she could expect when she arrived there, information that should have been readily available on the website but wasn't. She mentions that she could have mentioned that she's an influencer and that she probably would have gotten a response (because they never emailed her back), but that she deliberately chose not to.
"So I did attempt to email ahead of my visit, trying to ask basic questions about the park and inquire about renting it out. When I did that, I was intentionally vague; I didn't link my channel, and I didn't use my primary email. And I sort of suspect that if I had done the whole influencer song and dance -- said my channel name, my subscriber count -- I might've had better access to the park, and perhaps even a better experience. But that wasn't the point. I didn't want to call ahead. I'm the mystery diner! I'm the undercover boss! If you can't deliver an equivalently good experience for all guests, that's on you and your business." [x]
Then, in the Star Wars hotel video, there were two instances in which Jenny had to reach out to Disney customer support for assistance, and received absolutely nothing in return. The first was when she paid for a photo taking service, but had absolutely no photos taken of her. When she reached out to Disney customer support for a refund, they refused to give her said deserved refund. The second instance was when she had purchased a large droid figure from the hotel, and had it shipped to her house via the Disney shipping service. The Disney shipping service inputted her address incorrectly (in fact I think she says they put in a completely different address altogether), so her droid was lost. Once again she reached out to Disney customer support to find out what she could do about this expensive item she had purchased, only to be told that they couldn't do anything to help her.
In both cases, Jenny took to twitter to post about how Disney was refusing to a.) issue her a refund for a service she paid for but never received, and b.) help her receive an item she'd paid for but never received. Both times, Disney reached out immediately, issued her the refund, and overnighted her lost item. Jenny correctly identifies that they only did this because she's an influencer with a large twitter following, and has this to say in the video:
"They didn't even ask for my phone number. Like someone at Disney just did the legwork to go into the database, look up my booking info, find my phone number and then call me within a day of the tweet going out. And the person who called me was really nice, and I'm thankful he cared to resolve it. BUT, I just always feel very cynical when I try to resolve issues through the appropriate channels available to all customers and nobody will help me until they find out I'm an 'influencer.' I spoke with several other guests who got [the photo taking service] and had the exact same problems as me, and they never got refunds." [x]
And
"But then after I tweeted about it on my twitter account with a lot of followers, Disney suddenly resolved it and they sent me a replacement. They actually overnighted it to me. And along with it they sent a lot of miscellaneous goodies which I really appreciated. So here again, I feel if this had happened to anyone without a lot of twitter followers, they would have had a significantly more frustrating experience." [x]
I feel that this post will probably read as giving Jenny kudos for doing the bare minimum. And I think that on some level, that's true. But it's true because nowadays, many influencers won't even do the bare minimum. They would have Disney immediately issue them a refund, or overnight the droid to them with the additional goodies, and then make posts gushing about how great Disney's customer service is, despite knowing full well that the (again for lack of a better term) average person who doesn't have a huge internet following would never receive that kind of support from Disney. Similarly with Evermore, most influencers would call ahead and flex their follower count to try to get a bespoke experience to then show on their channels. They wouldn't want the same experience everyone else gets. That won't generate good content, in their eyes, and besides, they're better than that. Don't you know who they are?
But Jenny, despite her follower counts, keeps it real. Yes, she appreciates that Disney did give her the deserved refund and did send her the droid + gifts. But she also points out, both times, that if she'd been a person without a large twitter following, they would not have done that, and people in the exact same position she was with the photo service didn't get their deserved refunds. With Evermore, she didn't call ahead because she DOES want the same experience everyone else gets. She wants to be able to give a genuine review. Whether that review is positive or negative is dependent on the business itself.
Again, this probably seems like giving Jenny kudos for the bare minimum of decency. And I agree that on some level it is. But I also think that, in today's day and age, we really don't get that with a lot of influencers, who are in it for the sponsorship money (and who get their egos way inflated), and so it's nice to have a reviewer / theme park influencer who is honest with her opinions, and who recognizes that yeah, Disney did give her special treatment, but that it shouldn't have been special treatment, that they should be helping all of their guests like this, through the normal channels that she tried using, and they are a shit company for not doing that.
I just really appreciate Jenny.
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iamred-iamyellow · 7 days
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Aussie Athletes
♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!sargeant!ballerina!reader
♥ smau 
♥ fluff
♥ notes: I said I'd write some ballet fics so here's one lol. I'm going to write some ship fic ballet au's (drivers as ballet dancers) after I finish my folklore and Romeo and Juliet series'. Also! I'm performing a don quixote variation this weekend so wish me luck lol :) (none of the pictures are mine)
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First Day @ ausballet
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logansargeant congrats sis
yourusername <3
user14 she's in Australia now 🫢
user3 PLEASE let that mean she'll be at more races now
yourusername 👀
user5 💗💗💗
oscarpiastri welcome to Australia
landonorris trying to get a date on main?
logansargeant don't even think about it piastri
oscarpiastri ???
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
2023 British GP
You walked into the paddock bright and early to find your brother before he was busy with qualifying. You ended up running into a different, yet familiar face instead. 
“Oh, hey Oscar,” you smiled 
“Didn’t expect you to be here with your new Australian ballet career,” he smirked and took a sip of the water he had in his hand. “You don’t have a busy schedule? 
“I do, but the season wrapped last month. I figured I’d come down here and support Logan, you know? I’ve got a lot of training to do when I get back, though.” you laughed softly. 
Oscar hummed in an understanding response. 
“How’s it been there?” 
“Good,” you paused. “Tough, too.” 
“I’m sure it is. It’s an art and a sport.” 
“People don't really consider what I do “a sport”.”
“They say the same about racing.” 
“I guess we have something to bond over.”  you smiled.
You both heard Lando call Oscar's name, gesturing for him to go to their garage. Oscar gave an awkward, blush-filled goodbye and ran towards the Brit on the other side of the pit lane.
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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he says I'm so american
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lilymhe top golf double date
yourusername we are so there
user7 WHO IS HE
user9 y/n x oscar crumbs
user2 crying and writing fics
logansargeant 😐
yourusername ...
user6 @ landonorris please tell us she's with oscar
user8 why would lando know?
landonorris 🤐
user8 @ user6 I'm sorry I wasn't familiar with your game, clearly Lando does know
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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opening night 🧡
logansargeant you did amazing 💐
user2 the orange heart...
user5 NOT a coincidence
user8 AND it's f1's winter break meaning Oscar is back home in Australia where it just so happens y/n dances at
user4 the pieces of the puzzle are finally coming together
ausballet our sugar plum fairy
yourusername <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Time Skip - 2024
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MONACO <3
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charlesleclerc welcome to the piastri-leclerc family
yourusername I'm honored, thank you charles
oscarpiastri so when should she meet my brother leo?
user6 Y/N'S APART OF THE JOKE NOW 😭
user10 someone go get Nicole
user4 y/n l/n-piastri-leclerc
logansargeant don't break her heart
oscarpiastri I won't I swear
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pasukiyo · 2 months
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I END WITH YOU
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anakin skywalker x f!jedi!reader word count; 3,988 warnings; unprotected p in v sex, angst summary; you're too good, too noble. anakin doesn't understand why you feel the need to always protect him when he doesn't need saving. when you get hurt, it takes every ounce of willpower within him to not go insane. you don't seem to understand why he's so doting. you thought you had anakin skywalker figured out... ...but you have no idea how he ends.
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 One look was all it took, for Anakin could hear it in the silence. 
 “I need you.”
 Anakin’s lips had already been pressed together, his brow already furrowed, for he was already royally pissed off. It’d been enough to be dragged on this wasteland of a planet by Obi-Wan, it’d been enough that she’d insisted that she should tag along, it’d been enough that absolutely nothing was going according to plan— and seeing her with a blaster wound to the bicep certainly didn’t aid in improving his mood. 
 It was bad enough he had to react like he didn’t care enough, pretend that for a moment, he didn’t fear that she wouldn’t react to move in enough time, that the little ray of blazing scarlet would pierce straight through her heart. It was bad enough that he had to watch her slice the wobbling green light of her saber through the battle droid’s chest all on her own, all the while clutching her arm. 
 It was bad enough watching her being patched up now, having to stare into her eyes that on the surface, seemed to mask her pain. But Anakin knew her better than anyone else— he could see right through that facade she’d so delicately crafted. All he could see now was her desperation, her desire to hold him close, to feel him so deeply like no other could. Anakin had to look away now, for not only was Obi-Wan approaching, but he knew that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to detach himself from her. 
 “You’ve certainly seen brighter days,” Obi-Wan said as he sauntered into the small alcove of the ship Anakin had accompanied her in. She tore her gaze away from the side of Anakin’s face to instead fixate on the Jedi Master, glancing down at her wound that C-3PO had since covered in Bacta spray. 
 “It’s no bother,” she replied, shrugging and raising her arm, much to 3PO’s dismay as he rocked the upper half of his body back, arms thrown in the air. “No, no! I am not done dressing your wound yet! You must keep it still or else your wound may open again and—“
 “3PO,” Anakin’s bark of the droid’s name permeated the room and all seemed to still for a moment. She blinked at the sound of Anakin’s voice and swallowed down her desire to let it burn like a spark on a rope, trailing all the way down her throat and chest until it reached the frayed edges at the pit of her belly, setting her center ablaze. She shifted where she sat and dropped her head, along with her arm as 3PO— now silent— continued to wrap it. 
 Anakin turned to face his former Master as Obi-Wan eyed him right back, a wrinkle in his brow. Anakin only waited for him to continue, wiping his face clean of any feeling. After another few moments of the already prolonged silence, Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned a shoulder into the frame of the door. 
 “Master Windu summons us for a meeting as soon as we get back to the Temple,” Obi-Wan continued. “To discuss all that has transpired today, and such.”
 Anakin sunk his molars down into the slimy flesh of the inside of his cheek, feeling his features harden as he turned away to face the panels on the wall. 
 “Great,” he replied, irritation laced in his tone. Obi-Wan knew Anakin well enough to know when something was weighing on his mind. But Obi-Wan also knew Anakin well enough to know when to not push his boundaries. He respected him enough for that, at least. 
 Obi-Wan sighed as he pushed off the wall, dipping his chin when he glimpsed back over to where she sat, 3PO finishing up the final touches of her bandages. “Rest well,” he said. “You will need your strength.”
 She dipped her chin back to Obi-Wan, grateful for an excuse to avert her gaze. “Thank you,” she replied, and then Obi-Wan was off, brown robes trailing behind him and slowly disappearing behind the door as it slid closed. 
 “There,” 3PO finished her bandages at last. She glanced down at her wrapped arm, already feeling the bacta spray begin to set into the wound, sighing in relief as the pain began to subside. “Please do not move it around too much. Too much movement could lead to—“
 “That’s enough, 3PO,” Anakin, voice still as deep as it was earlier, turned, sharp gaze slicing into the metal of the droid. 3PO turned to face his creator, “but, Master Skywalker, I must insist that she—“
 “I assure you, 3PO, that she will face no further harm,” Anakin interrupted the droid yet again, arms uncrossing and dropping to his sides as he moved to step closer. 3PO, with his stiff arms held in the air, took a step backward, facing his Master. “Now go.”
 3PO’s arms flailed as he turned, waddling his way towards the door. “How rude! A thank you would be nice every once in a while,” she could just make out from the droid before the door slid closed behind him and she bowed her head, picking at the edges of her bandages with her fingernails. 
 “You could be nicer to him, you know,” she murmured, not having realized that Anakin had drawn himself closer, not until the middle and forefinger of his gloved mechanical hand pressed beneath the underside of her chin. Her gaze was forced into his, her bottom lip quivering at the storm raging in the dark hues of his irises. Although she knew Anakin was angry, she could feel a spark set her skin ablaze at the sight of his tightly pressed lips, of his furrowed brow, tight jaw and exploded pupils. 
 She struggled to keep her thighs from closing together to ease the ache in her core. 
 “Why must you insist on getting yourself into situations that always end in you getting hurt?” Anakin snipped and she blinked when the thumb of his gloved hand curled around the curve of her chin, his grip tightening on her jaw. Her breath shuddered as Anakin’s stare dropped to her lips, to her throat, to her collarbone, to her clothes, as if searching for any further sign of injury. 
 Her bottom lip wobbled before she replied, “you can at least acknowledge that I do not always get myself hurt.” 
 Anakin breathed a humorless laugh through his nostrils at this, his jaw ticking as he straightened, dropping his hand from her face altogether to pace the floor. “You’re always putting yourself in front of others, in front of Obi-Wan, in front of me,” he shook his head and she stared at the scar slicing through his right brow to avoid his gaze. “As if we aren’t capable of protecting ourselves.”
 Her quivering lips curled into a scowl at this as he looked anywhere but at her, chest heaving with the effort of keeping his anger at bay. “You’re angry with me for protecting you?” she repeated to confirmed and Anakin glowered her way. “I do not need your protection,” he hissed. “I can do it just fine on my own. Why don’t you look out for yourself every once in a while, you wouldn’t be in here today, hurt.”
 A humorless titter tumbled past his lips and he shook his head again. “Foolish girl,” he muttered, the wrinkle in her brow dimpling. “I do not need you to belittle me, Anakin,” she hissed back. “Do you take me for a fool?”
 Her heart pounded its fists against the inside of her chest— the last thing she wanted now was to argue with him. All she wanted was him, she craved him, needed to feel his arms around her, his fingers in her hair, his skin upon hers. But there, where that desire ached deep in the marrow of her bones, burned fury, white hot anger blitzing through her veins like a comet. 
 Did Anakin underestimate her? After all this time they’d known each other, grown with each other in the temple, learned together, trained together, fought together— did he misconstrue her power? 
 Her need for Anakin could wait— this berating of her dignity could no longer go on. 
 Anakin’s feet pivoted until he faced her, eyes searching her face, fleeting between her sealed lips, her clenched jaw, furrowed brows, heaving chest, sharpened features. He didn’t need to reach out and feel it to know she was upset, and it occurred to him that perhaps in his haze of rage, he’d misspoken. 
 He knew how capable she was, how skilled of a Jedi she was. There was no doubt about it— but what he hated most was how noble she was, how good she was. He hated that because she was too good, she’d spare not a second thought in battle. How it’d make her use herself as a shield to protect others, to protect him. 
 He couldn’t stand it, her need to protect him when his need to protect her blazed just as strong. Anakin couldn’t go on another minute knowing she’d been blasted all because he’d had his back turned, because she’d been quicker to react than him. Had he been paying attention, had he moved faster, he’d have been able to deflect the blaster bolt with his saber, he’d have been the one with the blaster wound instead. 
 His gaze flickered down to the bandages wound on her upper arm and he had to turn away, feeling the bitter taste of bile on the tip of his tongue. 
 “I do not think you are a fool,” he began. “But must you always be so noble?” She blinked, feeling her heart skip a few beats inside her chest. “Putting yourself in the line of danger for others, for me,” he shook his head as he paced to the other side of the room. “I cannot stand it.”
 She straightened her posture where she sat, sucking in a deep breath. “If I infuriate you so much, perhaps it’d serve you well to quit doting on me all of the time,” she snapped back, unflinching even when his glare hardened, firing just like a blaster shot into hers. “You pay attention to me more than you do yourself. Do you know how much I would hate myself if you got hurt because you treat me like I am a child?”
 Anakin stopped pacing, turning to face her once more. Either of his hands rested on his hips, bottom lip wobbling with his temper. 
 “You are not a child,” he replied. “And I am not doting. You misunderstand me.”
 She shook her head, “I think I’ve got you pretty figured out, Anakin Skywalker,” she said with a humorless titter, rising from her seat to march her way towards the door. She couldn’t stand being alone with him anymore, not when she looked at him and didn’t know whether or not she wanted to pounce on him and kiss him until their lips bled or slap her palm across his face. 
 Just before she could make it within reaching distance of the door’s control panel, the glove around his prosthetic hand tight where it wrapped around her uninjured arm, stilling her where she stood. 
 For a moment, neither spoke. She pressed her lips together in a firm, thin line, her breath heavy as it exhaled through her nose. She willed her eyes to fixate on his, the action proving itself difficult, as they wanted nothing more than to drop to his lips. His gaze was so hot, it was blistering, and she swore she could melt in a pool of magma at their feet. 
 “You know where I begin,” Anakin spoke in a low, husky voice. Her bottom lip quivered— damn her soaked center for betraying her so. “But you’ve not even the slightest idea where I end.”
 She blinked up at him, feeling a gate open somewhere inside of her, all her anger and frustration washing away as if with rain. All that remained in the downpour’s wake now was her libido, her desire to kiss him, her need to feel him, her lust for just him. 
 As the silence neared its end, Anakin’s features began to deflate, as if he’d reached out with the Force to feel him. She allowed herself to breathe, seal her eyelids closed, and reach an invisible hand towards him. Sure enough, she could feel him like a whisper on the tips of her fingers, like reaching out to graze her nails on the surface of the ocean. 
 When her eyes fluttered open again, his were closed, but not for long. She watched his eyelashes as they flit upon his cheeks, the veil of his lids sliding away until she was staring into that strange, enigmatic ocean in his gaze, his waters so dark, so blue, so captivating that she allowed herself to dive right in. 
 “Then lead me to your end,” she whispered breathlessly, feeling the gloved hand he’d had wrapped around her upper arm make its trek up the mountain of her shoulder, through the valley between it and her neck, up her throat and across the waterfall of her chin until his palm cupped her cheek. The pad of his thumb soothed over the flesh just beneath her bottom lip, and she shuddered. 
 Anakin sifted through the darkness of her pupils, his gaze so intense that for a moment, she believed he really was reading her mind, searching through the archives of her brain. But really, all he saw was her, as if she were in the limelight. All he could focus on was her, her breathing, her eyes, nose, lips. 
 He was a black hole, a bottomless pit etched into the earth, so dark, she realized that he was right: she wasn’t sure where he ended. 
 And Anakin pulled her right in. 
 They surged into one another like a wave crashing into another, his lips a seal over hers. Their tongues did a waltz inside where their mouths connected, Anakin quickly taking control. She mewled into his mouth as she clutched at his robes, tugging them forward as Anakin backed her into the wall, her back hitting the steel with a thud. 
 She was already so frustrated— yanking on the fabric of his robes, searching for an inch of his skin. His tongue was so strong over hers, his kiss so powerful, her mind was beginning to ooze into goo. Anakin’s hands moved away from her body but their kiss never once broke as he pushed the outer layer of his robes off his shoulders, letting the material pool at their feet. 
 She began unraveling his underclothes like he was a gift and he yanked the leather glove off of his mechanical hand, undoing the cloth belt around her waist with his other. Anakin tossed her belt off to the side, the flowy, outer layer of her top unraveling from her chest and he pushed the material down her shoulders, letting it join his robes on the floor. They pulled away for the briefest of moments, solely so Anakin could lift the tight undershirt away from her body before lifting his own shirt over his head. She pulled him in by the hem of his pants when he was done, tugging them down his thighs as he pulled down hers. 
 Skin. All she could feel was Anakin’s skin and oh, it was the softest thing she swore she’d ever touched before. He was like the richest of velvet, soft and so beautiful, a never-ending avenue for her lust. All she wanted to do all the time was touch him, never let his skin leave hers. 
 A hand snaked around to the nape of his neck to tug on the dark blonde locks there as his kisses broke from her lips to trace a line down her neck, feeling the edges of his teeth against the small curve of her collarbone. Her other hand clawed at the expanse of his back, hissing through her teeth at the pressure of his body against her wound. For a moment, Anakin seemed to realize this, his kisses slowing on her collarbone until she used the grip she had on his hair to draw him into her again. 
 “Don’t stop,” she mewled beside the shell of his ear, only hoping she’d be able to keep herself quiet enough. The notion that Obi-Wan was still on the ship lingered in the back of her mind, but she wasn’t so sure Anakin cared as much as his lips trailed down to the swell of her breast, nipping her between his teeth there. 
 Her head threw itself back against the steel wall, one of her legs lifting and bending to wrap around his. Anakin placed his palms on the backs of her thighs to lift her up, his body the only thing keeping her balanced. 
 “Anakin,” she breathed as he sucked marks into her breasts, teasing the bud of one of her nipples with the tip of his tongue. Through hooded lids, he glanced up at her, his lips never ceasing. She swiped her tongue between her lips for moisture, panting as he sunk his teeth into the flesh on the underside of her breast, sure to leave a mark. “Anakin!” She yelped and he released her skin, the bridge of his nose soothing up the valley between her tits as he kissed her skin.
 “I can’t help it,” he breathed into her chest. “You are like a vice.”
 She mewled again as she bucked her hips into him, feeling his erection beneath her.
 “Please Anakin,” she murmured. “Just need you to be inside. Need to feel you.”
 Anakin muttered a string of curses into her throat as he kissed his way back to her lips, peeling his mouth away from hers to rest his forehead against hers. 
 “Yeah?” He whispered, feeling her nod against his head. Anakin gazed down between her legs, at the glistening folds of her cunt, past it where the angry, pink head of his cock was. There was an ache deep in the pit of his belly for her that even he couldn’t believe he’d deprived himself of relieving for so long. “I need you too.”
 She gasped as he rocked his hips slowly, the tip of his length prodding against the underside of her angry clit. Her arms tightened where they were wrapped around his neck, catching his bottom lip between hers, sucking as he steadied himself into position, clamping her teeth down into the plush, pink flesh when he slid himself in. 
 Only the head of his cock had breached her barrier but she was already crying, hot, fat tears slipping from her eye sockets and rolling down her cheeks. She was so desperate to feel more, to have him as deep inside of her as possible. She could feel her walls clench around him, inviting him further in. Anakin groaned above her, muttering a string of curses against her sweaty hairline as he pushed himself the last few inches in.
 Anakin was so big, so girthy that she felt so full, felt like she hadn’t any room to speak, not even to breathe. She could feel him so deep inside of her where no other had been before, feeling him reach that hardly touched spot so far in her that just the mere graze of his tip against it felt like it seared a bruise.
 “Anak—!” She cried before his lips were on hers again, muffling her sounds. His hips retracted before thrusting back in, his cock hitting her cervix again, making her vision go black and glisten with stars. 
 “I’ve never felt something as wonderful as this,” Anakin panted as he pulled back only to thrust himself back in again. “I could stay in your pussy forever.”
 Her bottom lip wobbled and a mewl ripped from her throat as he clenched her thigh with his prosthetic hand, the other resting on the side of her neck, thumb just above the pulse of her throat. 
 “Let me see you,” Anakin whispered against her ear, pulling away as her eyelids fluttered back open, feeling that blistering stare surge back into hers. 
 But she knew what he meant. 
 She closed her eyes again and Anakin dropped his forehead to hers, his pace at a steady rhythm, his thrusts forceful, significant. She focused on the length of his cock nestled deep inside her warmth, on his warm skin on hers, on his breathing and the beat of his heart. All ceased to exist except for Anakin Skywalker, and she opened her mind to the sole being of her universe. 
 He felt like a breath of fresh air on the brightest day in Naboo, like when they visited their friend Padmé Amidala there and took a stroll through the Lake Country. He felt like the gentle, warm breeze that kissed her cheek. He was as warm as the smile he’d given her when they’d fallen on their backs in the plush, green grass. He was as tender as the words he’d spoken to her when he confessed his love for her. 
 Anakin Skywalker was truly a force like no other. He was power like she’d never felt before, more electrifying than even the rush that wielding her lightsaber gave her. He was stronger than even the feeling of the Force flowing through her veins was because in her eyes, he was her Force, her ground, her earth, her universe. 
 Anakin Skywalker was all that existed. He was all that was ever important. She never cared once for the oath she’d sworn under the Jedi Code when she was with him. She’d leave it all behind, let all her training and hard work go to waste, just so she could have him like this. Anakin was her centerfold, and she, his. 
 She stared at Anakin with a gentleness she’d never seen him in before and through their connection in the Force, he began to glow, like a star in a supernova. When she glanced down at herself, she found she shone the same. They were two stars in the middle of the galaxy reaching their end and she surged into him to brace for impact. 
 “Anakin!” She called his name into the connection and Anakin murmured her name back, feeling him brush against her cheek like the pad of a thumb. “I’m so close,” she mewled breathlessly and Anakin hummed in reply. He was so bright now, they were both so close that it was blinding. “We end together,” Anakin replied, sifting his fingers through her hair. 
 And they did just that. 
 Like a star in a supernova, she exploded and suddenly she was back in that small alcove of the ship, shuddering in the strong, warm arms of Anakin Skywalker. Her legs trembled with the force of her orgasm as it surged through her, her body melting into Anakin’s as thick, hot spurts of his own release flooded into her. 
 Their skin melted together as they both panted, chasing air back into their lungs and coming down from their highs. Using her arms still wrapped around his neck, she drew herself closer into him, nuzzling the side of her face against his chest. She could hear and feel his heartbeat there, matching the tempo of her own. 
 “I burn for you, Anakin,” her voice came out in barely a whisper. “It’s why I protect you— I’d be nothing if I were to lose you.”
 Anakin said nothing for a moment and she took the time to bask in the warmth of the silence, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. 
 “It’s because of how much I burn for you that I care so much about you,” he finally murmured his reply. “Because you are my purpose. I only end with you.”
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a/n; okay six posts in a row, i am on a roll LMAOOO but ummmm... i actually feel proud of this one... i know... crazy 😵‍💫 turns out i write the best whenever i'm sitting in the bathtub LMFAO anyways! i truly hope you all enjoy this one :) i’ve enjoyed writing for anakin a lot these days! i don’t know why i never took the time to write for him before, he’s such a unique and complex character who is so fun to write for!
please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply if you enjoyed! it means the world to me 🥹🫶
TAGLIST;
@your-nanas-house
@chaoticevilbakugo
@k1ttenmittonz
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togrowoldinv · 5 months
Text
Meeting the Team
Carol Danvers x Female Reader
Carol brings Monica and Kamala home to take refuge for an evening and to meet her wife. Fluff ensues
Note: I was just thinking about Carol having a secret wife and the lovely Monica and Kamala meeting her. Enjoy this one!
Carol Danvers Masterlist, Main Masterlist
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You’re stirred from your sleep when you hear the sound of a ship landing near your house. You hope it’s Carol’s.
When you hear the sound of the front door unlocking, you roll out of bed and walk to greet her in the front room.
She’s in her suit but it looks a little worse for wear. Carol catches sight of you and the weight falls off her shoulders.
“Hey sweetheart,” Carol says softly, a smirk rests on her face.
You cross the room quickly and pull her into a hug. She flinches due to her own soreness but keeps hugging you anyways.
“Are you okay?” You ask her, grabbing her face in your hands.
“I’m okay,” she says.
Her eyes are determined. You realize she’s here just for a short time to regroup or gather some information.
“I missed you,” you say.
“I missed you,” Carol replies.
You lean in to kiss her but you stop short when you see two women, or rather one woman and one teenage girl, walk in the door behind her.
“Carol?” You alert her to the presence.
“It’s okay,” Carol says. “We’re- well I guess we’re a team.”
“We are so a team,” the teenage girl says.
Carol tries to hold back a smile but you see it on her face that she likes these teammates. She turns around and holds you by the waist.
“Y/n, this is Kamala and Monica,” Carol says.
“Wait, the Monica?” You ask. The woman’s eyes flash to Carol’s at your words.
“Yeah,” Carol says. “Our powers are entangled.”
“Right, okay. It’s nice to meet you both, come on in and make yourself comfortable,” you say.
They move to sit on the couch. Carol goes to the bathroom to freshen up first.
“What was your name again?” Monica asks you.
“Y/n,” you supply. “I’m Carol’s wife.”
“Oh my god,” Kamala says, mostly to herself.
“What?” You ask.
“Oh, she’s just a fan girl,” Monica explains. “She’ll be writing fanfiction later about Carol having a secret wife.”
You chuckle at the girl’s antics. You can’t blame her for loving Carol enough to want to create new versions of her.
“Carol and I got married a few years ago,” you say. “But we really haven’t been able to spend much time together. Planets need saving and all that.”
“Sounds familiar,” Monica says.
Carol enters the room and sits down next to you with a sigh. You want to ask more about her reuniting with Monica but that’s for another time when it’s just the two of you.
“Do you have powers?” Kamala asks. You realize this girl has a talent for breaking awkward silences.
“I do not,” you say. “Although, wrangling this one in should be considered a power.”
“Wow,” Carol says. “I’m offended.”
“Don’t be, baby,” you say. You kiss her cheek and she tries to hide her blush. “It’s a privilege to love you. Even when you run off to space for months at a time.”
“You could go with me if you want,” Carol shrugs.
“Nope. That’s your world up there. Not mine,” you reply. Carol only smiles. “Are you guys hungry?”
“Starving,” Kamala answers. “I mean no, we’re good.”
“Come with me,” you tell her.
You lead the girl into the kitchen and let her take her pick of food to eat. She settles on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Kamala asks you a few questions about Carol and your relationship. She seems genuinely excited with every answer she receives.
Monica and Carol are in the living room still. You don’t hear much talking, so you make Carol a sandwich and go get her.
“Babe, I made you a sandwich,” you say. “Please eat at least half. I know you haven’t been remembering to eat a lot.”
“I’m fine,” Carol says. “I get enough.”
“Go.” You leave no room for argument. She sighs and goes to the kitchen. That leaves you alone with Monica.
The woman is sitting on the couch. You know from her vantage point that she can see the framed photo of Maria that Carol keeps on the shelf.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” you say, not really knowing what to say.
“Oh, thanks,” she replies.
“You know I think Carol has some more pictures around here somewhere,” you say. “Maybe next time you come by we can look for them.”
“Yeah,” Monica says noncommittally.
“Do you need anything? A drink, food, medicine?” You ask.
“Thank you. I’m okay,” Monica says.
“Are you sure? I can tell Carol is sore so I can imagine you all are,” you say.
“You can tell that about her just from looking at her?”
“From the hug. She flinched,” you explain. “She never admits she’s hurting, but I know she is. Although, I do see a part of her healing. Probably from reuniting with you. She seems happier.”
Monica nods. She knows that this has meant a lot to Carol. It means a lot to her too, but right now she’s still a bit hardened to the idea of being in her presence again.
Carol and Kamala come back into the room before you can say anything else. You help show them where to sleep and then end up back your bedroom with Carol.
She changes into some pajamas and snuggles into bed next to you. You rest your head against her shoulder.
“How long?” You ask her.
“Just until morning,” Carol replies. “I need to fix a part of my ship. And I wanted to see you.”
“How are you doing with this whole Monica thing?”
Carol takes a deep breath. She hasn’t really had time to stop and think about it.
“I’m okay I think,” she says. “I’m good. It’s amazing how she’s grown up to be so wonderful.”
“Yeah? She has powers, that’s insane.”
“I know,” Carol says. “I didn’t know that until I saw her with Fury. She’s really a great person too. I definitely couldn’t keep Kamala as safe without her.”
“What’s the deal with Kamala? She’s a kid who loves you?” You ask, a chuckle escaping from your lips.
“Apparently,” Carol sighs. “But I really don’t feel like I’m a good role model for her. Maybe she’s seeing that in the choices I’ve already had to make in front of her.”
“Hey, you always do your best. Sacrifices are necessary. You know that, baby,” you try to encourage her. “The way that girl looks at you definitely makes me know that she looks up to you.”
Carol kisses your head and rubs a hand over your back. It’s slightly warmer than normal, meaning she’s using her powers to help you relax.
“We need some sleep,” Carol says.
“We do,” you reply. “Hey, don’t let me forget to tell Kamala in the morning about how we met.”
“Oh god, she’s going to write a story about it,” Carol says. “Whatever fanfiction is.”
“It’s fantastic,” you reply.
“You know what it is?”
“Of course, babe.”
“And you’ve read it?” She asks. You nod. “About me?”
“No,” you laugh out. “I don’t need to when I have you already, my love. Although, I do need some new content.”
Carol grins mischievously. She’s sent you countless videos, pictures, and voice memos over the years. But it has been a while since she has done that for you.
“Tell you what, when this thing is over I’m coming back home for a while,” she says. “And we can spend our time doing whatever we want.”
“I’d love that,” you say. “Goodnight, my love.”
“Goodnight, my beautiful wife,” Carol replies.
You kiss her lips for a few minutes before you both feel the weight of sleep fall over you.
When you wake in the morning, you spend a few more hours with Carol, Kamala, and Monica. The goodbye is always hard, but you know Carol will come back to you. She always does.
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