#When when will his reign of terror end!!!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Today in awful pain due to cramps, but ended up laughing and cheered up because I said aloud, “My tummy hurts and it’s Wei Wuxian’s fault!”

There he is! That's the man that made your tummy hurt!!!

#ask #poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wei wuxian #When when will his reign of terror end!!! #One day we will defeat WWX in combat and then *none* of us will ever have a sore tummy ever again. #Blaming WWX for everything is healing and important for mental and physical health. #You think he might be cute but he is the *source*. We gotta cut him off. #Jokes aside I am glad that my silly comic gave you a laugh that helped distract you from the tummy hurt. I hope you are feeling better!

[iguessitsjustme]

Genuinely almost cried when Mae walked away after shooting Thana at the end and that is damn impressive

#3 will be free #the fact that thana didn't even know who she was or that she existed #and she was the one to end his reign of terror #when she was the one constantly pushing back against it #sure she did some bad things and he dipped her toe into the world #she had a taste and she said no #she regretted the things she did and constantly pushed ter to be better #she was a lot like shin in that neither one of them wanted to use violence to solve problems #but mae also suffered in ways that shin didn't and could never know #and she knew that it didn't start with phon's death #she knew it didn't start with neo or miw #she knew it started with thana and that it could only end with him #she also saw the goodness in shin and knew that thana would not be replaced with someone like him #because she saw shin choose against violence #which is what she was always advocating #and thana had no idea what he did when he killed ter #he didn't know that mae was phon's girlfriend and that ter was all she had left #both of them protected her by not letting thana know of her existence or her importance or what she knew #and that was his downfall #it wasn't miw shin and neo's love that killed him in the end #it was mae and her broken heart #she's the true survivor of the show and she killed thana and walked away #she solved the problem and then walked away to go live her new life #in all of her grief and all of her sorrow and all of her heartbreak #i hope she can find someone that will love her as she is and who won't get killed #if anyone deserves a quiet and happy life it's mae

[jemmo]

desperately trying to forget about the preview for next week's his man 2 eps and focus on the adorable junsungho date we finally got, but it's all my brain wants to dissect over and over. once again, seonwoo why? i absolutely don't understand what his goal in this show is or if he genuinely is even interested in anyone because i honestly don't feel an ounce of sincerity from that man. he went on a date with yoonghee out of politeness, and his main goal was to see if he could overcome their age gap right? yet, he's the one who kept bringing it up. it's also the way yoonghee kept asking him questions and giving him opportunities to give him some kind of clarity, but seonwoo just gave him roundabout answers in return. it annoys me that seonwoo keeps trying to string yoonghee along without cutting him off completely because he needs that attention and 'support' from him as he always says. on another note, he keeps saying sungho is "special" to him and okay maybe he is, but if so, why does it look more like he just wants to shake him up again when he noticed sungho's attention shift away from him a little? it just seems to me that not receiving a voice message from yoonghee and sungho must've hit seonwoo way too hard and he needs that validation back. sigh. i know we don't see everything that goes on in these hour long eps, but i feel like it's definitely enough for us to be able to get a grasp of their personality and character, and seonwoo is clearly playing with so many people's feelings. i just don't know what to expect anymore because seonwoo is going to continue playing these mind games with that big ego of his. god, i swear, the absolute mood swing i had from being excited and happy over sungho's voice message to my face literally falling as that preview played. this week of waiting is gonna be torture as always.

oh dear anon i am trying so hard not to think about the preview, or about seonwoo watching sungho and junsung cook and asking questions about their date and his reaction, or seonwoo calling sungho, bc sungho and junsung have such a good thing going on, and yet we and them can’t just be left with the memory of a nice date bc seonwoo has to ruin it by sticking his nose in again. im trying to be so reasonable when I watch it and not just shit on him for everything he does, bc maybe he does truly like sungho, I mean since their date he has called him consistently, but then you have people out here like hyungjin saying i shouldn’t have gone out on a date with anyone else so as not to give a wrong impression to them or the one person I like (even tho he left the message for seonwoo but that’s something else), and yet seonwoo goes out with yonghee for whatever reason, obligation, pity, curiosity, so he can’t be so committed to sungho as to shut down all other options yet, which at this point i feel like the people who are genuine are starting to be committed about who they like, but seonwoo just has to keep all these options open even when it appears he’s committing to sungho. and i don’t want to say that’s bad at the face of it, after all if sungho doesn’t go with seonwoo, it’s good to not have closed off every other option; i don’t like to subscribe to the belief that just bc you are devoted to going for one person, that your feelings are better or more worthy or anything, bc at the end of the day it’s sungho’s choice. what does annoy me is the lack of clarity with which seonwoo approaches every situation. I think the only time he’s only been kinda clear about anything was when he talked with junsung about exploring other options, but at least from what i recall, he’s never been clear to sungho and said I like you but I’m gonna keep talking to other people bc I don’t know how sungho then sees the situation, does he think seonwoo is committed to him or does he know about the other people he has ties to and would that change how he feels??

and I’m trying hard not to talk about him and yonghee’s again bc I’ve already ranted so much, but I will focus on that line he said at the end of their date, that he relies on yonghee bc his feelings never change. which is what he keeps on saying, that he gets support from yonghee and that he’s important. none of these are inherently romantic things and the thing is I think yonghee intents them to be romantic but seonwoo doesn’t see them that way, or more accurately he sees that intention but the way he is grateful for it isn’t romantic in return. and I can’t get over how fucked up it is to string someone along and use their affection as a comfort without giving that person any clarity in return. he’s literally using yonghee’s feelings to make himself feel better, feel reassured and comforted, and the reason why he won’t clarify his feelings and say there’s no romantic affection in return is bc he’s scared to lose yonghee’s affection bc it comforts him to much to know he’s so strongly and unwaveringly liked by this person. it’s literally what he wants the most, to be liked so much, and that’s why he can’t reject him even though there’s little to no way I think seonwoo feels anything romantic for him. like is that not fucked up?? to use someone like that??? to not give them that cutoff so they can move on to someone else just bc you want to feel good about yourself??? it’s the way yonghee is so sincere and genuine with his feelings and seonwoo is so plainly disingenuous in return. it’s the way he asks yonghee nothing about himself outside of his feelings for him, let’s yonghee spill his heart and says nothing in return, how he asks yonghee to ask him questions but gives him half baked answers that don’t give him enough to give him any insight on how he feels, but enough to keep him wondering. like it feels cruel, it feels like someone older making light of a young persons feelings as nothing but childish affection, and I don’t want to see yonghee being looked down at like that. I said before how seonwoo feels complicated looking at yonghee bc he has this confidence that comes from youth and less experience and fear and wishes he could’ve had that youth, but it’s bc I think he views it like that that he sees his feelings as childish, bc he is wistful for a time where he could’ve had this childish crush and felt like they were the most special thing in the world and been so bold and forward about it. and bc he doesn’t take those feelings seriously is another reason why he doesn’t reject him outright, bc he doesn’t think it warrants it even tho yonghee is putting his all into this. I don’t usually like to shit on age gaps bc age isn’t just a number but it’s also not a be all and end all, but it’s situations like this where they bother me, bc you can feel the imbalance, you can feel that the issue linger in the air where it doesn’t in other parings where a gap still exists. and i think yonghee’s youthful sincerity doesn’t match with the life experiences seonwoo has had, but also doesn’t match with the lack of emotional maturity he seems to have despite his age, and altogether it’s just so messy and not right and I can’t even say it’s good tv anymore bc I’d much rather see yonghee move onto other people than be stuck here. like sure seonwoo, make mess, it’s fun, but when it stops being fun and starts actually messing with people, that’s when I’m gonna start getting mad.

#hi I took a day off but I’m ranting again #bc somehow there’s still parts of this man’s fuckery I haven’t dissected #on this ep: using other people’s affection as a comfort blanket and age gap be age gapping #with a little side of lack of clarity to the person you like #oh this man #when will his reign of terror end #his man 2

[stellarana]

Me in RuneScape today

(checking on POF animals) Alright, adminster treatment, bone rattle, gather produce, remove. Cure disease, check head… Breath smells of sulphur? Ok then. *gets out runes and shit and draws a lil ritual-ey circle on the ground and starts chanting* Cured! Alright, what’s this guy got? Speaking in tongues… I might need the candles for this one… Who’s even cursing my sheep anyway?

~about an hour later~ *drags dark wizard in by the ear* GUYS I GOT HIM I GOT HIM!!! *glares menacingly* My sheep would like to have a word with you…

#runescape #rs3 #i’ve always wondered how the animals got cursed… #anyway he was hiding in the manure mound and aiming spells into the spells #but i have put an end to his reign of terror and the sheep are safe now #except for the fact that the dragons in the breeding pen next to them sometimes… uhh… “borrow” them when the food is getting low #speaking of which i need to feed them before they break out and go on a rampage through ardy… again

[lonesomedotmp3]

the fucking. home of phobia. it's truly insane guys

#ben savage just slayed again. god damn it. when will his reign of terror end

[narwhalandchill]

the prev post discussing zhongli being an overall menace to society now even more pertinent than ever after todays reveal literally confirmed his ass is out there pretending not to know xianyun/CR too 💀

#gaslight gatekeep grandpa at it again when will his reign of terror end😭😭😭 #genshin #rambles

[mayax81]

sometimes i'll see a picture that's got REALLY GOOD, STYLISTIC LINES, WELL-HONED SHADING, THE SKILL OF AN ADVANCED ARTIST CLEARLY VISIBLE, but then i'll put certain characteristics together n be like, God I hope this isn't sans, and lo and behold: another bishounen caillou has been unleashed upon the earth

#my arch nemesis #when will his reign of terror end #when will artists learn to draw fat characters #u should know how to draw a CIRCLE before you know how to contrast candlelight with moonlight boo idk what to tell u #sans #mypost #meanie bitchcunt hours #bishounen caillou ranting continues

[faith--in-the-future]

opened Instagram and there was a new Yorkers article about Harry's fans 🙄 incredible how he manages to ruin every single thing I enjoy

#when will his reign if terror end honestly #im so tired

[lucindarobinsonvevo]

i don't know if you've watched it yet or are intending to watch it but i would highly recommend watching the new disney series Willow!

i hadn't really planned on it, since I'm not really into fantasy stories, or stories about magic but seeing how passionate you are about it does make me think maybe I should, lol. Weirdly enough, I did read the novelization of the film a long time ago. Someone gave it to me after buying it at a thrift shop I think. I remember actually really liking it.

#one obsessed mutual has the power of a hundred ad campaigns < literally so true #i can also understand how you may not believe me when i say that i dont really like fantasy when i have almost 500 hours clocked on skyrim #so maybe im all bark and no bite #mitzianswers #of course. there is the problem of my sister has been hogging the tv lately #so she can rewatch supernatural in its entirety #shes at season 8 rn #its driving this whole house absolutely up the wall. ever time i go downstairs its jensen whats his features #yelling about something in voice that does not match his face at all #but maybe dad and i can team up. he likes fantasy so perhaps i can get him to watch with me #put an end to my sister's samgirl reign of terror

[pucksandpower]

Blackmail Material

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you love your boyfriend more than life itself but who can blame you for keeping a folder of all the blackmail material he has given you over the years … just in case

You hear a bloodcurdling scream from the other room. “Y/N! Come quick!” Charles yells.

You rush over to find him standing on top of the couch, a look of sheer terror on his face. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

He points a shaky finger at the floor. “Sp-spider!”

You look down to see a tiny little spider no bigger than a blueberry crawling across the hardwood. You have to stop yourself from laughing at the sight of your brave Formula 1 driver boyfriend absolutely losing it over this tiny critter.

“Really? That’s what all the fuss is about?” You don’t bother to keep the amusement out of your voice.

“Don’t laugh!” He says indignantly. “It’s a monster! Kill it, please!”

You kneel down and take a closer look at the offending arachnid. “Aww, it’s just a little jumping spider,” you say. “It’s actually kind of cute.”

Charles makes a strangled sound of disbelief. “Cute? It’s a beast from the depths of hell! I want it gone!”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “You race cars at over 300 kilometers per hour, but you’re scared of a little spider barely bigger than a piece of lint?”

“Yes! Spiders are my worst fear. Now stop teasing me and get rid of it!” He gives you his best pleading look from his perch on top of the couch.

“Alright, alright,” you acquiesce, grabbing an empty glass from the coffee table. You gently trap the spider under it and slide a piece of cardstock underneath, trapping the spider safely.

“Is it dead? Please tell me you killed it,” Charles asks hopefully.

“Of course not, I’m just going to let it go outside. Spiders are good, they eat other bugs.”

Charles visibly shudders. “Well get it out of here! I don’t want to see it ever again.”

You carry the spider carefully to the sliding door and release it on the balcony. When you come back inside, Charles is still standing on the couch looking suspiciously around at the floor.

“The horrible beast has been banished, you can come down now,” you say.

He hesitantly steps back down onto the floor. “Are you sure it’s gone? You didn’t just give it free reign to run wild in the apartment?”

You try and fail to hold back a laugh. “Yes, I’m sure. Your life is no longer in peril.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “This isn’t funny! Spiders are evil creatures with too many legs and eyes. They should not exist.”

You go over and wrap your arms around him comfortingly, though you’re still struggling not to giggle. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. But you have to admit, it’s kind of silly that someone who races cars at death-defying speeds could be so terrified of a tiny spider.”

He huffs indignantly. “It’s a completely rational fear. They’re all legs and eyes and they move so fast and erratically and some of them can be venomous. Absolutely horrifying.”

You smile indulgently and kiss his cheek. “Okay, I get it. I promise I’ll protect you if any more evil spiders invade our home.”

“Thank you,” he says, finally relaxing into your arms now that the threat has passed.

But you just can’t resist teasing him a little more. “It was just so small!”

He pulls back and gives you an unamused look. “You’re not going to let this go anytime soon, are you?”

You grin impishly. “Letting my big macho boyfriend stand on the couch and scream because of a teeny tiny spider? Yeah, probably not gonna let you live this one down for a while.”

Charles groans. “This is so unfair. The guys will never let me hear the end of it if they find out.”

You pat his shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone that Charles Leclerc is terrified of itsy bitsy spiders.”

And if you happened to save evidence of his freak out just in case? Well … it’s not technically telling anyone unless you share the video.

***

You can’t help but grin as Charles paces back and forth in your New York hotel room, running his hands through his hair in distress.

“Chill out babe, I’m sure the airline will find your luggage soon,” you try to soothe him.

Charles whips around, eyes wide. “Chill out? How can I chill out when my La Mer is missing? Do you have any idea how long it took me to perfect my skincare routine?”

You stifle a laugh at his dramatics. “I mean, it’s just skincare products. Not the end of the world.”

“Just skincare products?” Charles looks at you in horror. “That’s like saying a Ferrari is just a car! La Mer is the cream of the crop, the holy grail of skin care! My face needs it to survive!”

You can’t hold back your grin anymore. “Wow, didn’t realize I was dating such a high maintenance diva,” you tease.

Charles huffs, crossing his arms. “I am not high maintenance, I just have discerning taste and an appreciation for quality.”

“Uh huh, sure,” you say. “Is that why you made us stop at three different Whole Foods on the way here from the airport until you found your favorite protein shake?”

“That is completely different,” Charles protests. “My skin is very sensitive, I can’t just use any old drugstore products.”

You laugh and pull Charles onto the couch next to you. “You’re cute when you pout.”

He tries to keep a straight face but ends up cracking a smile. “I can’t help it, I’m freaking out! Do you know how dry airplanes are? My skin is going to be a flaky desert by tomorrow.”

You run a hand through his hair. “Aww poor baby. However will you cope without your six hundred dollar moisturizer?”

Charles narrows his eyes at you. “You joke, but this is serious stuff. Do you want a boyfriend with wrinkles and acne?”

“I mean, a few wrinkles never hurt anyone,” you say, kissing his cheek.

He gasps dramatically. “Don’t even joke about that! I’ll be twenty seven soon, wrinkle prevention needs to start now.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Most twenty seven year olds aren’t this worried about wrinkles. But I guess Formula 1 drivers really are high maintenance.”

“With good reason! We can’t have crows feet interfering with our vision,” Charles says matter-of-factly.

You give him a look. “You’re just making things up now.”

Charles holds your hands, looking deeply into your eyes. “Mon amour, you must understand. Athletes age in dog years. We need anti-aging products just to keep up.”

You burst out laughing, shoving him playfully. “You’re so full of it!”

Charles grins cheekily. “But you love me anyway.”

You lean in and give him a soft kiss. “Yeah I do. Even if you are a high maintenance diva.”

Charles puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I thought girlfriends were supposed to be supportive! My skincare is obviously very important to me.”

You snuggle up next to him, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Tell me all about this super special moisturizer.”

His eyes light up. “Well first of all it contains like crushed up diamonds or something. And they freeze each jar before shipping it to keep the ingredients ultra fresh.”

You make a mental note to Google this later, since it sounds completely absurd that diamonds would be an effective skincare ingredient. Though with Charles, you can never be too sure.

“Uh huh, diamonds. That’s totally normal,” you say, playing along.

“Exactly! And the founder makes sure each jar charges under the energy of a full moon before it’s sold. It’s really an intricate artisanal process.” Charles sighs longingly.

You smile and kiss his pouting lips. “You’re cute. I promise your skin will survive one night without magic moon diamonds.”

Charles snuggles against your shoulder. “I know, I know. Skincare is just part of my routine, it makes me feel relaxed and put together. And smelling like citrus blossoms is an added bonus.”

You kiss the top of his head. “I get that. Hopefully the airline finds your stuff soon. But in the meantime, want me to see if anyone sells La Mer nearby?”

Charles perks up. “Ooh yes, let’s check! I saw they have a Dior down the block too.”

You laugh and take his hand. “Of course they do. Come on, let’s go spoil you with new overpriced skincare products until yours turn up.”

***

You walk into the kitchen and see your boyfriend standing at the counter, a pile of uncooked spaghetti next to him. He takes a portion in his hand … which he proceeds to snap in half before dropping it into the pot of boiling water on the stove.

“Charles! What are you doing?” You exclaim in shock.

He turns to you, confused. “What do you mean? I’m just making sure the pasta will fit better in the pot.”

“But you can’t break spaghetti before cooking it!” You say incredulously. “That’s like a cardinal sin in Italy!”

Charles laughs. “Oh come on, it’s not that big of a deal. The pasta will cook just fine this way.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Il Predestinato is out here breaking pasta. Do you have any idea how offensive Italians would find this?”

“I’m sure they will survive the absolute tragedy of some broken spaghetti,” he jokes.

You nod to your phone. “It’s a good thing I’m recording this for posterity then. The whole country needs to know about this travesty.”

Charles’ eyes go wide. “What? No, don’t record me!” He reaches for your phone but you spin away, giggling.

“The people of Italy deserve to know the truth about their hero!” You declare dramatically.

“Mon ange, please give me the phone,” he pleads, trying to grab your arm. You dance out of reach.

“Truth and justice will prevail!” You continue recording as Charles chases you around the kitchen island.

“Come on, delete it! This could start an international incident if it gets out!”

You pause to catch your breath, phone held high. “An international inchident? Wow, look at you being all dramatic now. I thought it wasn’t a big deal?”

Charles runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I didn’t think you’d actually record it as blackmail material! Please, mon amour, I’m begging you, delete the video.”

You pretend to think about it. “Hmm I don’t know … this seems like prime viral video content. Scuderia Ferrari Driver Destroys Pasta, Enrages Italy. Can you imagine the views it would get?”

“Y/N!” Charles lunges forward and tackles you onto the living room couch. You shriek with laughter as he tries to pry the phone from your grip.

“Noooo my video!” You yell dramatically.

Charles pins your arms above your head with one hand and reaches for the phone with the other. “Give it to me!”

You squirm underneath him. “Never!”

He leans down until his face is just inches from yours. “What’s it going to take for you to delete that video, huh?” His voice is low and gravelly.

You catch your breath, hyper aware of his body pressing against yours. “I don’t know, what are you offering?” You ask cheekily.

Charles brushes his nose against yours. “What if I made you your favorite dinner tomorrow night?”

You tilt your chin up in defiance. “That’s all I get for deleting potential internet gold? I don’t think so.”

He moves even closer, his lips just barely grazing your cheek. “Okay, what if I take you out for a nice date too? Dinner and a show at the opera, your choice.” His breath is warm against your skin.

You close your eyes for a second, affected by his closeness but not ready to give in yet. “Tempting, but I think this video is worth even more than that.”

Charles makes a small noise of frustration before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You melt into it for a blissful moment before pulling back slightly.

“Well that’s certainly a start,” you murmur, your heart racing.

Charles lets go of your hands to cradle your face tenderly. “Mon cœur, please delete the video. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”

You search his eyes intently. “Anything?”

“Anything,” he confirms fervently before kissing you again, deeper this time.

You wrap your arms around his neck and give yourself over to the kiss. After several heated moments, you gently break away.

“Okay fine, I’ll delete the video on one condition.”

Charles looks at you warily. “Name it.”

“You have to let me drive your Ferrari.”

Charles groans and drops his head against your shoulder. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

You laugh and pat his head consolingly. “Those are my terms.”

He lifts his head to grin ruefully at you. “You drive a hard bargain. But for the sake of Italian nonnas everywhere, I accept your deal.”

You lift up your phone and pretend to wipe away a tear. “The souls of broken spaghetti can finally rest easy.”

Charles just shakes his head before leaning down to silence you with another deep kiss. As you lose yourself in the feeling of his body against yours, you quietly move the video into an encrypted folder. After all, you never know when it might come in handy.

***

You raise an eyebrow as you watch Charles carefully pour Red Bull into his Ferrari water bottle. “Do you buy those in bulk?” You ask with a laugh.

Charles gasps in exaggerated outrage. “Buy from the enemy? Never!” He screws the cap on tightly and gives you a sly grin. “Max and I have an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?” You echo in surprise. This is news to you.

Charles nods, looking pleased with himself. “Yes, a secret trade deal. I provide him cappuccinos from the Ferrari cafe and Max supplies me with as much Red Bull as I need.”

You burst out laughing. “Are you serious? You and Max smuggle each other contraband caffeinated drinks?”

“Shh, not so loud!” Charles glances around furtively, but the motorhome is empty except for the two of you. “It must remain a secret.”

Still chuckling, you lower your voice conspiratorially. “So the great Charles Leclerc betrays his team for energy drinks. The Tifosi would riot if they knew!”

Charles winces dramatically. “Do not say such things! It is not betrayal, merely … creative problem solving.” He takes a long swig of Red Bull and grins. “The taste of the enemy is sweet.”

“I can’t believe you drink that stuff. And I can’t believe Max is your supplier!” You shake your head in amusement. “Does anyone else know about this arrangement of yours?”

“Only Lando. We needed a neutral third party to broker the deal and make the exchanges.” Charles leans in with a playful smile. “So do not be getting any ideas about exposing our scheme, yes?”

You mimic zipping your lips. “My lips are sealed … as long as you share some of that!”

Charles pretends to think about it for a second before breaking into a grin and handing you the bottle. The carbonated liquid fizzes pleasantly on your tongue, the familiar flavor mingling with the surrealness of drinking Red Bull from a Ferrari bottle. You take one more sip then hand it back to Charles.

“Just don’t let Fred or Christian find out,” you warn teasingly. “Pretty sure this counts as treason.”

Charles just laughs. “They turn a blind eye. The team knows I perform best when properly caffeinated.” He caps the bottle and adds, “But no more for you, ma belle. I only have a limited supply!”

You pout dramatically. “Fine, keep your precious Red Bull. I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone what’s really in your water bottle!”

The can of Red Bull that Charles rushes to give you tastes even sweeter than usual.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble

[kay-jaye]

bit on the side?

bit on the side?

crowley doesn’t know what the fuck that even means. ok, yes, he’s familiar with the deluge of terms humans have concocted to define the complexity of their relations to each other.

side piece. sneaky link. friends with benefits. fuck buddies. situationship.

crowley knows what it means. he does. but when nina speaks the phrase to him, crowley can’t seem to recognize a single language, alive or otherwise dead, in which the words she says make sense. he briefly wonders if this is his version of aziraphale’s french.

because she’s talking about aziraphale.

aziraphale, the angel. the angel who likes his tea without sugar, but his wine with company. the angel who claims to have a distaste for “bebop,” yet crowley has caught him mouthing the words to queen’s “good old-fashioned lover boy” more than once in the bentley. the angel (bastard) who enjoys subjecting crowley to his magic act antics that under no circumstances would crowley ever admit to finding amusing or, satan forbid, endearing. the angel who popped into paris during the reign of terror because he got peckish for crepes, and even the threat of guillotine in that damp bastille cell could not deter him from baked goods in the end. the angel who still insists on dragging crowley to see productions of shakespeare, despite both being present for the original opening nights of almost every play the man wrote. the angel who is what heaven is supposed to be incarnate—pure and kind and too good for his own good, really.

and crowley is a demon.

he doesn’t think any of the typical labels apply. they’re not human, after all; it couldn’t be that simple. crowley can’t pinpoint exactly when it started or when it changed. 6,000 years is a long history to comb through. it was more than the acquiescence of two immortal beings to the familiarity of each other in a world full of temporary creations. it was more than a bloody arrangement at this point. crowley doesn’t know how it can be more than whatever it means to inhabit the other’s body and walk right into fatal danger, but they are. he’s inclined to cut his losses and say he knew—because deep down, he did know—he’s been fucked since eden and the damn wall and the damn rain he can’t help but associate with revelation.

other people’s love lives, nina had said. love lives. she’s projecting, crowley knows that. whatever’s going on with her and…lydia? linda? they say love makes you blind, but crowley would argue you see plenty of things. every passing glance between sips of champagne; every smile at the crisp sarcasm rolling off a forked tongue; every brush of fingers over the exchange of a briefcase full of books, the shaky grip on a tartan thermos, the drunken grab for another glass of wine across the table. silly things. things that aren’t there. for all the times aziraphale has implored him to read more, crowley swallows the urge to say he already reads into things more than he should.

he’s imagined it before; what it would be like to have more. a fair share of people have made assumptions about them in the past, though he’s not sure whether aziraphale has picked up on it, but that’s not why crowley suddenly feels as though armageddon is upon them once again. never has someone alluded to anything as…intimate as “hooking up.” crowley can brush away the implication that they’re together, but something screeches to a burning halt the moment nina insinuates what crowley’s only ever allowed himself to think about when he’s laudanum-level drunk and lonely because he has a greater chance of not remembering in the morning.

he remembers though. that’s usually when the guilt kicks in, when he’s hungover because he forgot to miracle the alcohol out of his system before passing out, and the headache pulses with the constant reminder that aziraphale is pure, pure, PURE. nothing he imagines on those nights is pure.

what gave him away? and if nina can see it, can aziraphale?

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #i'm writing look at that #kayjaye writes

[dogsofthepod]

“new york city is so dangerous” you’re right bestie, the coup harry styles is staging on midtown is a real threat to penn station commuters everywhere

#it’s me i’m commuters #this residency is making me so bitter about harry styles and it’s truly bad luck for him that it’s coincided with don’t worry darling drama #anyway #harry styles #babes i simply can’t describe tbe number of feather boas i encountered this evening #when will his reign of terror end #also please do not get me wrong if someone handed me a sequined dress and a free ticket i would be in there having a blast #but i’ve been here since 7 AM i just wanna get home <3

[chknbzkt]

Anddd for the one that started it all: Moondrop the Night Terror!!! \o/

Stand-alone!!!

More pictures and lore below!!

Proto dragon Moon (yucky man, I love him so)

Gremlin to not-gargoyle pipeline is so real lmaooo-

The shades, abyssal inky monsters that take vague, bastardized forms based on things they see (and oft consume) are infamous for only venturing out of their pools at night. Shades are, however, not the only thing that stalks Hyde’s Crossing and it’s people when the sun falls ‘neath the horizon.

Yet another “problem dragon” (with an impressively sizeable bounty on his head!!), Moon’s disposition towards humans in particular is hostile at best, potentially deadly at worst. He relishes in the chaos and unrest his nightly excursions cause to all manner of folk, seemingly unpredictable in that he never sticks around in any one part of Hyde’s Crossing for too long.

No, indeed efforts have been ramping up of late to catch him. He’s responsible for all manner of crimes including arson, murder of livestock, theft, jaywalking, vandalism, bribery, forgery… and murder. Never you mind that the deaths in question were either an accident on his end or that of his would-be slayers, unfortunately he’s not particularly interested in sticking around to give his testimony to the contrary.

So, as efforts to encourage monster hunters to kill him dead in the form of steadily rising bounty rewards continue being made, he’s stuck nomadically jumping around from place to place to evade capture or worse. He’s not keen on stopping his nightly reigns of terror, he wants to be feared and he likes the purchase that comes with having no alignments or attachments.

He’s made attachments with humans before. He has the iron collar to show for it. Never again.

He has no hoard to call his own and it’s not doing his dubious mental stability (with like zero support) any favors. He does tend to linger near villages with libraries a tad longer despite the risk, however.

It’s only a matter of time before his bounty gets upped to “kill on sight,” though to finally sort himself and his baggage out may require being “slain” by the right hunter he meets at the right time…

#bzkt barf #fnaf smaugust #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #fnaf sb au #dragon moon #dca fandom #art #artistsontumblr #bastard man: deploy!!!

[sarawritestories]

You're My Forever

High Lord Eris Vanserra xFem Reader

Summary: Eris Vanserra sits on his throne, allowing himself to be lost in his thoughts when his mate comes looking for him.

Content warning: A little bit of self doubt. A whole lot of love

A/N: This is dedicated to @milswrites who helped me have a major breakthrough in a plot of my Novel and this was the best way I knew how to thank her!

Word Count: 1.3k

ACOTAR MasterList

Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court.

A title the eldest Vanserra child never thought he would receive. Running his hands along the gold arm rests of the throne, as if the cold bite of the metal could keep him rooted in reality a reminder that he wasn’t dreaming. Beron was dead. His reign of terror came to an end. This throne, this manor, the entire Court of Autumn was Eris’. Eris sat on the extravagant piece of furniture crossing his leg over the other and allowed himself this one moment to be lost in his thoughts. A moment where he let his doubts rise to the surface.

Would he be a fair ruler?

Could he make a difference within his court?

Was he a good mate? A good husband?

Would he make a good father?  Make sure his kids experienced no harm by his hand as he had with Beron?

Was this just a dream? Would he wake up tomorrow back in the clutches of

“Eris?” Eris blinked at the sound of his name looking up he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice. You had stepped into the throne room a pink silk robe wrapped around yourself, your hand supporting your swollen belly. Your hair fell in soft curls right above your chest, face as radiant as ever.

The newly appointed High Lord met your eyes once more, his mate, his beautiful mate, wife soon-to-be mother, the most beautiful female in all of Prythian in his eyes. Your soft smile still made his chest tighten. “My Little Doe, what are you doing out of bed?”

You approached the dais, you were halfway through your pregnancy and walking was becoming more challenging, “I’m looking for my husband, who should have met me in bed hours ago.” She stopped right in front of him and looked around the room, “I can’t seem to find him, High Lord, you wouldn’t happen to know where he is?”

Eris rubbed his chin as his eyes dipped slightly, your robe slipped down revealing your shoulders just enough, that Eris saw the light pink lace bra and the swell of your breast. and he adjusted in his seat. “My fair maiden, what does this male look like?”

“Handsome, has adorable freckles across his nose, eyes that resemble fiery embers.” Your eyes glanced down to his mouth, “A very kissable mouth,” You smiled, “His hair is red and long and smooth enough that I find myself always running my fingers through it.” You grip his knee clad in his riding clothes from going out to the villages earlier.

“Well, he sounds very beautiful,” Eris puffed out his chest causing you to giggle, and he loved that melodic sound. “He must be if he was lucky enough to have you, as his mate.” His throat tightened; he was a lucky male indeed.

“I believe I am the lucky one. The mother blessed me with a mate, who is brilliant, kindhearted and passionate as he is pretty.” Your smile fell slightly. “Are you okay?”

Eris smiled, and adjusted his legs and patted his lap, “Come here, My Love.”

The High Lord tilted his head as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth. “I’m too big, I’ll hurt you.”

Eris growled, as his brows furrowed, “We’ve talked about this.” He leaned down and gripped your chin, “What did I say?”

You sighed, “I am growing a person, and with that is going to be changes I’m simply not used to.” He quirked a brow, waiting for you to continue. “And if you heard anyone talking down about me, you would be the one to teach them a lesson. Even if said person was me.”

The male kissed your forehead, “Good Girl, now come here and sit on your High Lord’s lap.” He released you from his grasp and leaned back. You stepped toward him, and Eris helped turn you and placed you on his lap, picking your legs up so that they dangled over the arm rest. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you placed your hand on the base of his neck. With a flick of his hand all the doors that led to the room locked causing you to jump briefly. “Now, where is that sweet little babe of ours?” You smiled as he tugged at the tie of your robe and the strings fell to the side and the silk slid off your round stomach. Revealing lace panties that matched your top, garter belts holding your sheer stockings in place. With his free hand he grazed your calf and worked his way up your body.

 As he began his slow ascent up your body, he could smell your arousal, “Waiting for me in bed? I am a fool.” He reached your stomach, admiring the stretchmarks that have appeared in the last few months. His russet eyes, met yours, “You are the most beautiful creature, and how hope our child is just as beautiful as their mother.” You could feel heat rise to your cheeks, as you leaned your head back as Eris warmed his hands just a bit to ease the discomfort.

“Eris Vanserra, I know what you’re doing.”  You lifted your head quirking your brow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His lips pressed to your stomach his fingers sliding under the waistband of your panties.

Your hand found his wrist. And he lifted his head, “Eris, what’s wrong?”

Eris sighed and moved his hand, wrapping you back in your robe. “Nothing is wrong. I have everything I want. I have my court, my throne,” He pressed his forehead to yours, “My beautiful mate, carrying my child.” He closed his eyes. “I’m terrified that I will wake up, and I will find that this will all be a dream.”

“Darling, how long have you been feeling this way?” You whispered pressing your hand to his cheek swiping your thumb a crossed his freckled cheek idly.

“Since I became High Lord.” Before you could scold him, he continued, “I didn’t want to worry you. Or worse, I was afraid that you would think I would turn into my father and leave.”

“You’re my mate, my equal,” You pulled away and lifted his chin, so he met your gaze, “When I accepted the bond, I did it because I love you. Because I knew then what I know now.”

Eris tilted his head, “What is it that you know?”

You leaned in and kissed his nose, “You’re my Forever. I will always choose you.”

Eris smiled and pressed his lips on yours and you granted him access to deepen the kiss. His tongue met yours as he devoured your taste. You moaned in his mouth and felt his cock rise to attention against your ass. You began to move your hips to give the high lord the friction he craved, and he grunted in your mouth. His fingers threading through your hair as he dominated the kiss, his hand idly rubbing your stomach.

He pulled away from you needing air, “You’re mine and I love you.”

You laughed, “I figured, the child in my womb would have been a strong argument for both of those statements.”

Mischief danced in his eyes, “You know I am keeping track of all of your rule breaking for when I can properly punish you.”

You smiled and pecked his lips, sliding off his lap facing the door. Turning your head you winked, “I’m well aware, High Lord.” You untied the robe and let the pink silk fall to the floor turning back to face the High Lord. He admired your full body, and his heart rate began to quicken. “Now, may I show you how much I love you?" You got down on your knee’s hands braced on his thighs.

Eris began unlacing his pants a smirk on his face, “As you wish, High Lady.”

#eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris vandaddy #eris imagine #eris x reader #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra imagine #high lord eris #High Lord Eris Vanserra

[bunni-v1]

Can I please request a reader that has been so traumatised by what’s happened in the Scarabia book that they actively avoid the entire dorm and have Ace and Deuce as their guard dogs (I love those two and I really love how you wrote them as the readers protective besties during the Malleus break up fic). Like how would Kalim, Jamil and Adeuce react to that?

I find it really cathartic when I read fics that have the characters feeling guilty after what they put the reader through whilst the reader is getting support from their friends.

(Something I’m really salty about in twst is how no one ever holds the overblots accountable for what they’ve done. I full on agreed with Ace when he told Riddle that crying wasn’t going to erase all that he did before the overblot and I literally fell in love with him when he punched Riddle after he insulted us/Yuu/the player. I understand that those boys are traumatised and are in desperate need of therapy and overblotting was the only way for their problems to be solved but the treatment they inflicted on Yuu/us was downright hellish. Azul made us homeless and tore us away from the only family/comfort we had in twst (the ghosts) and then sent the tweels to terrorise us in our attempts to reclaim said home and free our friends from servitude; Jamil kidnapped us, hypnotised us, locked us up in a room against our will, isolated us from Adeuce and took away any contact we had with them, forced us on long marches in the dessert and turned a blind eye to our clear suffering during that time; Vil acted like a literal demon to not only us (and then almost made my Deucey cry) but everyone else as well and that was before he decided to try to murder an innocent teenager. Like why does no one understand just how much this can damage an actual child who has no magic and has been stripped from their home and family?)

Reader Terrified of Scarabia After Jamil’s Overblot

TW: PTSD; Mental Breakdown; Disassociation; Mentions of Abuse; Kalim and Jamil are tragic

Info: Ace, Deuce x Reader (platonic or romantic); Kalim, Grim x Reader (platonic); Jamil and Reader (neutral)

🍓I love requests like this tbh. My own OC sorta has her own grapplings with this stuff that I like to touch upon, and I’m excited I get the chance to talk about it here :) THIS IS LONG AS HELL BTW(like this intro here lol). I had a lot of fun writing it :))) I added a cute, shorter little grim part, because our little guy deserves more lovin’ than he gets. I also decided to do a cute little (read: long) intro, and then head cannons since you didn’t specify for either. I hope you enjoy this style, and I’m sorry for the wait <3

You had been through… a lot in your time at Night Raven College. Being thrown into a completely different world would’ve been enough, but it seems that the great seven thought you needed some extra troubles. You weren’t sure how you could’ve encored their wrath, but you were, and you were chugging along despite it all.

First was the attack from the phantom in the mines — something that should’ve been foreshadowing for what was to come. You didn’t even do anything to be in this position. It was Ace Grim and Deuce, but you got dragged into it all because you were “Grim’s keeper.” You managed to befriend Ace and Deuce though, so it wasn’t so bad.

Second was Riddle with his unending temper and strict rules. Despite everything telling you to just stay out of it, your good-natured heart just couldn’t stop you from helping Ace and Deuce. Nearly dying in the process, you managed to help Riddle and made newfound friends in Heartslabyul. 

Third came Leona, the selfish, stuck-up, lazy no-good prince of the Savannah. You knew he was trouble from the start, and you wanted nothing to do with him or his little lackey Ruggie. Then he hurt Trey, and you couldn’t stand by while he reigned terror on the school. He was a favorable ally to gain in the end, so you could dismiss his actions so long as he kept in his lane.

Fourth was Azul, another student you figured would cause you trouble. With the extra scary Jade and Floyd always tailing him, and that too buttery sweet voice of his, you were determined to keep your distance. Again, however, your friends were in trouble and you couldn’t help but help them. Azul was a broken person, and you could sympathize with his struggles. He even gave you a job at the lounge to help with funding yourself, so he couldn’t be all that bad.

You’d come to dislike the other house wardens out of principle. A pattern had emerged among them, and you weren’t going to fall victim to another horrific overblot. You still had suction cup-shaped bruises on your arm from Azul’s breakdown. Leona had given you more than just a nasty burn from the scalding hot whirlwind of sand he conjured up. The scars Riddle left behind on your face and arms were healed, but they still ached when you touched them. All painful reminders that you could not truly trust anyone here, that anyone could lose control of themselves and hurt you. Yet…

When you met Jamil in the kitchen, he seemed so kind to both you and Grim. He seemed so genuine and honest. Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe it was you missing your friends, but you wanted to trust him despite your gut feeling to be distrustful. Could everyone here really be that bad? Certainly not. Ace Deuce and Jack went here as well… so surely… surely…

The alarm bells didn’t ring at all during the dinner, and Kalim — despite everything you’ve been through — seemed so nice, if not a little overbearing. You could see the tiredness on Jamil's face, and you had the kindness in your heart to express your sympathies. And oh, Jamil so humbly assured you that he was fine. Filling your head with little half-truths and ideas that Kalim had been overworking not only him but the other students. That he had been acting “off” as of late.

You saw Kalim’s sudden shifts in personality. How he would be so sweet, so kind and soft. How he made sure you were enjoying yourself, made sure you ate to your heart's content, made sure you were comfortable in your uniform and your sleeping quarters. Then he would be yelling at everyone, demanding unspeakable exercises and work.

If Ace were there with you, he would’ve called bullshit. Still, you trusted Jamil to start. You actually believed he was kind and had good intentions. You believed that Kalim was the real evil here.

Then he wouldn’t let you and Grim leave, and the students were suddenly so aggressive toward you. He took everything you had and stripped you of your dignity and pride until there was nothing left but fight.

Truly, you didn’t realize it was him that was the issue until he was over-blotting in front of your eyes. It wasn’t an unusual sight to you at that point, you’d defeated multiple overblots and befriended these people. You don’t know what it was. The way you’d trusted him. The fact that you felt truly alone without Ace and Deuce. This one broke you…

You just didn’t feel a damn thing after he was saved. You felt no pity, no joy, no relief. Absolutely nothing, an empty void in your chest. Even as everyone around you celebrated, there was nothing. You stood watching everyone parade around with glee blankly, unable to speak to anyone around you. Just listening to the voices that had begun to mesh together.

You didn’t show anything until Ace and Deuce showed up. Something about their faces, the way they were looking over you, the way they seemed so scared for your wellbeing… it made you cry. It made you cry and cry and cry until you couldn’t make any noise and then you cried some more. They had to drag you away from everyone because you just couldn’t quite stand upright when Deuce would try to get you to walk away with him…

The days after were blurry. You remained holed up in your dorm, unable to really move from your bed. Ace and Deuce stayed in their own separate room next to yours. You could hear them talking through the walls about how worried they were about you, how angry they were at Jamil, how angry they were at themselves for not getting there in time to help you. If you’d had the energy, you would’ve scolded them for being so hard on themselves, but you could hardly speak in the first place.

They cared for you as best as they could. Deuce attempted to cook the recipes Trey sent him over magicam, making sure you ate and stayed hydrated. Occasionally you’d hear Azul downstairs, and Deuce would give you something nice from the Monstrolounge — free of charge, he promised. You could tell that he wasn’t sleeping much in his worry over you. 

Grim remained at your side as loyal as a dog and boasting that he’d keep you safe, but you knew he was scared too. He proclaimed that he would keep you safe, but you could feel him trembling at every sudden noise. You had to comfort him from the horrific nightmares he was having. That was okay, though, he was family and you were his.

Ace was the only one who really kicked your ass into gear. He’d tug you out of bed and into the shower as people began to return from winter break. Made you go on walks around campus to show you that you were completely safe. Eventually, he’d been able to get you to visit Azul to thank him directly for his kindness. He wasn’t soft or gentle with you, that wasn’t in his character at all, but he made sure you felt safe enough to return to classes before they started.

They both worked hard to help you recover, but you were still so afraid…

Ace

-Ace isn’t exactly the most comforting person, and he never claimed to be. 

-He’s not good at reassuring people, but he’s good at being honest, and if he was being honest he knew that you were safe around him and Deuce.

-He walks you to and from classes, spends most of his nights in your dorm doing whatever the hell you’d like him to do without complaint, distracts you when you’re freaking out, and most importantly keeps that snake as far away from you as possible.

-If he was being honest with himself, which was his whole thing, he didn’t really get your reaction to everything. 

-You’ve all been through this before, it's textbook at this point. A guy does some shady shit, a guy gets caught doing said shady shit, a guy overblots, and you defeat a guy with the power of friendship. Boom. Done.

-He’d get it more if you were completely alone, but grim and the octanivelle freaks were there! Kalim too, and he’s always seemed pretty nice. Not the best company, sure, but still you had people helping you out.

-When he looks at your face and sees how tired you are, he forgets the logical stuff. All he can hear are those horrific sobs you let out when you saw him and how you nearly ripped his uniform in half with how tightly you were holding him and Deuce.

-If that was too much for him, he can’t imagine how badly it must’ve felt for you. How bad it must still feel.

-So screw what he thinks, he’s gotta make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

-He doesn’t ask you how you’re feeling, he knows it's not good. He focuses on keeping your mind off of everything that might trigger you.

-Reroutes your paths to classes to avoid Jamil and Kalim completely. Sure it’s longer and more annoying, but it's better than you going dead silent and shutting him and everyone else out again.

-He does everything in his power and you’re doing so well… and then the VDC happens. 

-You’re given the title of manager and you’re forced to be around these people who terrify you. 

-Vil won’t budge on anything and sevens Ace wishes Rook would let him try out a little target practice with the (illegal) bow and arrows he’s got in his room.

-He keeps himself between you and Jamil at all costs. He won’t let Jamil bother you at all, not that he was trying in the first place.

-The real issue is Kalim, which sounds crazy, but it’s true.

-Kalim is so… forceful. A pretty strong word, but honestly the only one Ace can think to use.

-He’s really nice, really sweet, seriously such a good guy… but you’re still unsettled by him.

-There are several times during practices that Ace has to yell at him to just leave you alone.

-Sure, it gets him a pretty big scolding from Vil, but he couldn’t care less honestly. He doesn’t wanna risk you having a panic attack because Vil doesn’t wanna be a responsible leader.

-You confide in Ace a lot. How you really want to move past all this, but Crowley won’t provide you with any form of therapy, and you’re just not ready to forgive Jamil or Kalim for what happened.

-He won’t tell you this, but hearing you talk like this breaks his heart.

-You’re normally so strong, so brave, so confident… and now you’re absolutely broken.

-He’s proud of you for putting on a brave face to placate Vil, but he’s angry you have to.

-Surprisingly, though, you do begin to warm up to Kalim. Just a little. 

-It's only when Ace, Deuce, or Grim is around, but it's a really big step forward in his eyes.

-You’re getting back to where you used to be little by little.

-He still won’t give you or Jamil the chance to reconcile, but you honestly couldn’t be more grateful for that.

Deuce

-Deuce is incredibly different from Ace in how he handles everything.

-He’s a delinquent, sure, but he’s a Mama’s boy at heart. Therefore, he’s much more equipped to help you emotionally through all this than Ace.

-Where Ace is the harsh pushing force to keep you going, Deuce is the calm where you can rest and cry your heart out for as long as you need.

-As I mentioned, he makes sure you’re eating and drinking and at least speaking to someone.

-He asks Trey for recipes without leading on to what’s going on and asks Cater for advice on helping someone feel safe after a traumatic experience.

-It’s not subtle, but it helps.

-He handles making all your meals, even though he isn’t the best cook, he absolutely puts all his heart and soul into everything he makes.

-A good portion of his days are dedicated to cooking for you, and he gets pretty damn good at it by the time classes start up again!

-With Sam’s shop closed, he has to go into town to get the ingredients he needs, and then he has to spend hours preparing and serving the food.

-He watches you eat, encouraging you that everything is safe and that he made it all by himself by hand. 

-He doesn’t question why things ended up this way for you, he wonders how can I help?

-And he does help, a lot, more than just with food.

-Sometimes, late at night, he hears you crying alone in your room. He gets up from his own bed, quietly enters your room, and holds you and grim while you both tremble in fear.

-It makes him so mad. Mad that this happened to you. Mad that Jamil did this in the first place. Mad that he couldn’t help more than he already is. 

-Like Ace, he accompanies you to all your classes and makes sure to stay close to your side if any Scarabia students are around.

-He’ll go anywhere you need him to, and if you’re not comfortable being alone and he’s got plans, you’re invited to join him. No matter what anyone else thinks.

-Things get better little by little. You make strides in your ability to be independent again and you’re smiling and joking around like you used to. You even agreed to try out for the VDC with him and Ace… a big mistake.

-He didn’t expect to actually get in, let alone get in with Jamil and Kalim. If it were just that he could’ve been civil, but no, you had to be dragged in too… because that’s always how it works out.

-He has to hold himself from getting in Jamil’s face more than once because just him looking at you is enough to send you into a clear panic attack.

-Deuce does his best to comfort you between all of this, though. Being your shoulder to cry on and trying his best to be your protector… it's just hard. Hard to see you like that, and hard to keep his cool for your sake.

-It's worse with Kalim because both you and Deuce know he means well. You both know he wants to reconcile, but you’re not quite ready.

-Deuce helps the confrontation with the two feel a bit easier though. He acts as a mediator between you and Kalim, and eventually, he’s proud to say he helped you trust Kalim just a little bit.

-Jamil… both of you could use some work, but Deuce is more willing to hear you out on him than Ace is.

Grim

-Grim was there with you the whole time. He understands the fear you’re feeling deeper than anyone else.

-He could just tell something was wrong the second he saw your face. Despite all the celebrations, he was focused on making sure you were at least a little okay.

-He tried to talk to you, tried to make you feel okay, but the only comfort he could offer you was letting you hold him while you cried.

-He could still hear your cries, and they made him want to cry too. He almost did, but he was your guard cat — he had to be strong for you.

-Unlike Ace and Deuce, he never left your side. Not a second. He was there with you from the moment you were unwittingly kidnapped to the sleepless nights in your dorm to the horror of finding out you’d have to work closely with Jamil for the VDC.

-He made his distaste for him very known, sure to make a snarky comment at least once every time he saw him. 

-It was so bad, at one point, that Vil had to give him a stern talking to. He didn’t stop regardless.

-You are Grim’s best friend, the only family he has, and Jamil hurt you in unspeakable ways. He couldn’t just sit back and be okay with that.

-He’s really such a good guy.

Kalim

-Kalim means well. With his whole heart, he has the best intentions… just not the best execution.

-See, he didn’t notice initially that anything was really wrong the whole time.

-He didn’t suspect Jamil at all. In fact, he thought that you were really enjoying your stay in Scarabia, you seemed so happy and chatty up until Jamil flipped things on their head.

-Call him air-headed, but he was caught up in his own whirlwind of emotions at the time. You know, the whole betrayal of his supposed best friend took a toll on him too.

-It wasn’t until you were sobbing your throat raw that he realized something was really wrong.

-The look of sheer terror on your face when you made eye contact with him sent shivers up his spine.

-He knew that look. He’d worn that look on his own face too many times as a young child.

-Believe it or not, without Jamil’s intervention, he knew to keep his distance. He knew he had to give you time to adjust.

-Then a few days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a little over a month, and he had hardly seen you around campus.

-You are avoiding your normal route to class, and when he did see you he was also greeted by the harsh glares of your good friends.

-He understood if you’d never want to talk to him ever again, honestly. He couldn’t blame you. You were more headstrong than him, after all.

-Still, when the VDC came around… he was hopeful. Truly he was hoping that something would give.

-He would talk to you in hopes of showing you that he meant no harm, but Ace or Deuce or even Grim would shove their way between the two of you.

-Several times Jamil had to tell him to knock it off because “It’s not worth forcing.”

-Still, he wanted you to know he felt bad. He felt horrible.

-In a very un-Kalim-like move, he quietly asks you if you can speak with him. Alone. But in a crowded enough area that you wouldn’t feel threatened.

-He didn’t expect you to accept it, he wouldn’t have blamed you at all. But you said yes. 

-You showed up, with Grim by your side, which was fine. He earned some apologies too.

-He poured his heart out to you, apologizing for things that he couldn’t even control. In turn, he listened to you rant about how scared you were, how angry you were, how you wished you were any of these things.

-And after that, things improved. Slowly, but surely. You became more comfortable around him, and you spoke to him again.

-Sure, you wouldn’t be caught dead at one of Scarabia’s parties, but you considered him a friend. 

-That’s all he could ask for.

Jamil

-Jamil is the monster in your story. 

-He’s the evil guy who kidnapped, manipulated and lied to you.

-He’s the one who used his misplaced anger as an excuse to hurt others.

-He’s the boogyman who made you endure days of long and hard training, just because he could.

-Of course, he felt bad. What he did was unspeakable, but he was more concerned with how his reputation would last after the overblot.

-More concerned with it not getting out for the safety of his family.

-Even with you sobbing, he just thought you were being dramatic in all honesty. You have a reputation already, he knew you’d been through this whole thing before.

-It didn’t really strike him how badly it affected you.

-He didn’t notice how you switched paths, how you were never in the same area as him for long, and the glares of your friends never once phased him.

-Even Ace’s snarky comments during basketball didn’t bother him for a second.

It wasn’t until he accidentally bumped into you in the hallway, and he saw the look on your face that he realized.

-The terror in your eyes, the way you shrunk back as if he would strike you. It was the same way his parents acted around the Asim’s.

-If he were a more insane man, he might’ve found it liberating, but it wasn’t.

-He had become what he hated to you, he had done what he hated to you. 

-Jamil was not only your monster, but he was his own.

-He steers clear of you and keeps as much distance as possible for both your sakes.

-He couldn’t handle someone looking at him like that, and he was sure you couldn’t handle the sight of him after what he did.

-Still, this is NRC, and luck is never on anyone's side here.

-Both of you are forced into a position where you cannot escape the other, you have to learn to live with the awful pits in your stomachs.

-He keeps Kalim away until you both are on good terms, then he simply watches quietly.

-He won’t apologize, he won’t antagonize, he won’t speak unless spoken to.

-You two never truly recover your small lasting friendship, but you do make amends with each other.

-During the trip to the scalding sands, you get to meet Najma, whom he’s confided in about ‘accidentally upsetting a classmate’.

-You get to have a good talk with her, and it makes you really realize some things about Jamil.

-You realize he’s just as broken as you, just as tired as you, and that he feels the most immense amount of guilt for hurting you.

-You, being you, find it in your soul to forgive him.

-Nothing really changes between you. The guilt is still there, and the fear still shakes you to your core, but you both have closure.

-In a situation like this, closure is the best grace a person can ever have.

#twst #twisted wonderland #bunni's treats 🧁 #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #jamil viper #kalim al asim #ace trappola #deuce spade #grim twst #deuce spade x reader #ace trapolla x reader #jamil viper x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim x reader

[togenabi]

breaking news

roronoa zoro (opla) x journalist!reader

♡—you always had a feeling the straw hats could change your life, but meeting zoro shifted the entire world on its axis.

word count♡— 5.4k (omg?)

genre♡— fluff

content notes♡— opla zoro, afab!reader is a journalist whose boss is evil, inaccurate journalism and newspapery, mild violence, kissing/making out, alcohol consumption, long intro so start might be slowish?, no use of y/n, only slightly proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note ♡— get yourself a man that can kick ass and let you use his arm as a tape dispenser

A stack of papers are slammed onto your desk. The pages are riddled with edits and red marks. Towards the end of the document, the person just started crossing out everything you had written.

“Stories like that won’t sell. It’s highly inappropriate.” Chief Editor Tildie scowls down at you. “Shame that you waste your talents on such rubbish.”

“But it’s not a story.” You mutter under your breath, not meeting her gaze.

“Did you say something?” She bends down, bracing one hand on the backrest of your chair.

“...No, ma’am.” Your response is barely a whisper, but she relents and begins to head back to her office.

“Stick to the politics and gossips, hon. If you know what’s good for you.” 

You almost break your pen in frustration.

All the other journalists in the room witnessed what happened, but they all keep their heads down, buried into their typewriters and desks. No one ever tries to fight for things to change anymore.

The Oceanic Times is such a joke. Why would a newspaper company named after the ocean not be allowed to publish anything related to it? Some people have said that the current chief is running the company to the ground. You’re beginning to think it’s true.

Running your palms over your face, you take deep breaths until you’ve calmed down somewhat. The first thing you see when you uncover your eyes is your article. The one you were so excited and passionate about.

You wrote about Orange Town, they had been suffering after the Buggy Pirates invaded. Everything was destroyed and the residents were imprisoned, forced to be the audience to their own home’s ruin.

Things had stayed that way for months, until the people were saved by pirates. It sounded so unlikely to happen, and yet it did. 

Knowing a scoop when you saw one, you sent a letter to Mayor Boodle along with some berry to donate for the town’s restoration. You tried asking if he wouldn’t mind being interviewed on what happened. 

He agreed. The result was an excellent piece on how a small group of rag-tag startups got the better of Buggy the Clown, saving an entire village from his reign of terror.

…And yet, this is what you get for your hard work. Your fingers trace the red marks and strikethroughs Editor Tildie made.

You know you’re right, people around here could do with some accessible, actual news and well-researched information. But simply knowing what’s right doesn’t come with the power to fix things, doesn’t it? 

The window by your desk offers you a view of the sun setting. It was one of the things that thrilled you when you first started, having a desk on the second floor. You were so determined back then.

It’s getting far too difficult to breathe in here. You grab your pen and treasured notebook, leaving the newsroom behind.

Your feet take you to the harbor. It’s quiet, with only a few fishermen around. You find yourself gazing out into the sea. The waves push and pull and ripple in patterns that calm you down. 

For a world with so many pirates, and many enthralled by the idea of adventure, you’re sure your writing will be appreciated… It will be appreciated here, eventually.

Once, you thought about moving somewhere else. Maybe to a bigger city and work under a more renowned publisher. But you like this town too much for that. There’s a good balance of things; it has all the amenities of a developed town, but is still close enough to adventurous waters. 

This place could be an excellent hub for information. If only you got the chance to show others what you dream of.

You know some people who are eager to leave, however. Some of your friends would give anything to work in some big city paper. You even heard rumors of Chief Editor Tildie applying for work in the East Blue Daily.

Oh, what you’d give to write about real news and the feats people are achieving. Letting out a sigh, you wonder where those upstart pirates are now.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too long to find the answer. One of your co-workers bursts through the door a few weeks later, holding onto the wall to steady himself and catch his breath.

“Arlong has been defeated!”

Everyone in the newsroom stops what they're doing. Even Chief Editor Tildie looks shocked.

Apparently, Marines were chasing down a group of pirates, and those same pirates saved a village in the Conomi Islands from Arlong.

Pirates saving people? Could it be?

“It’s a new pirate crew, but they’re really powerful!” Your co-worker explains further. “Roronoa Zoro is second in command, and their captain took down Arlong by himself!”

“Does the captain wear a straw hat?” You ask, but something already made you sure he did.

“Yeah, here!” He passes you a wanted poster.

A boy is smiling in the photo, wearing the same straw hat Mayor Boodle mentioned to you. 

“Is that why there have been more pirates around lately?” Editor Tildie says gruffly. “Darn sea lovers should stay at sea.”

No one comments on how Editor Tildie curses like a pirate. You value your jobs (and lives) too much. (But everyone thinks it.)

Another thing no one mentions is the excitement that seems to buzz through everyone. Like an electric current, making the air feel alive and crackle with an energy you haven’t seen in this newsroom in a long while.

News is about to break. You have work to do.

Your research leads you to trace the Straw Hat Pirates’ steps. A map of the East Blue is laid across your desk, and you begin to plot the locations where they’ve been. Holding your breath, you analyze their trail. 

It might not be so far-fetched to say that they could show up here.

You think of the article you wrote on Orange Town. It’s still there, you’ve kept it safe in the trusty notebook you keep strapped to your waist. You couldn’t bear to just scrap it. But, maybe there’s hope for it after all, now that those same pirates rose to prominence in such a short amount of time.

“Still working, huh?” One of the photographers asks you. “We’re all headed for the tavern if you want to join us.”

You smile, but can’t imagine leaving your desk for the foreseeable future. “Thanks, but maybe another night.”

Everyone else leaves, the only light left on in the office is from the lamp on your desk. The night blankets the newsroom in shadows, and you pour over your research in the welcomed silence.

A loud crash is heard outside.

Someone is getting beat up. You were just about to ignore it and chalk it up to a brawl between drunks, but you hear the local librarian yell out in fear.

You sit still for a second, steeling your resolve before rushing out to the scene. You may not know how to fight, but you should at least help the old man get out of there.

The library is the building beside the news publisher’s, so you see everything the moment you step out of the door.

Thankfully, the old librarian seems to be protected by a green-haired swordsman. He stands menacingly against several thugs, his sword glints under the moonlight. 

Not that the thugs look like they have a chance despite their numbers. Two of them are groaning and wounded on the ground, the other two are hiding behind a cart full of books.

The green-haired man raises his blade. “Cowards.” He spits out, looking severely unimpressed.

It seems he intends to strike the other two thugs where they stand, but the librarian begs the swordsman not to damage the cart or the books.

“Please!” The librarian wails. “Not the books!” Are his priorities on straight, you wonder?

“I don’t really care about that.” The man says, getting ready to charge at the men—through the books.

“Wait!” You yell, unable to just stand there. They all look at you with varying degrees of ‘who the hell is she?!’.

You use their surprise to your advantage, running quickly to the cart and pulling it out of the way. Everyone watches, astonished, as you take away the only thing that separated the thugs from the swordsman.

Said swordsman merely shrugs. “Fine.”

He’s so fast his form almost blurs. The thugs scream in fear, and for good reason. They’re cut down in two seconds.

“Oh thank goodness!” The librarian sobs, cradling the books that did not get shredded.

“Would you like some help carrying those inside?” You ask him, but he declines.

“No, it’s alright. Thank you for saving the books my dear. Pirates just can’t seem to fathom not solving things with violence.” 

You’re baffled at how the old man can smile at you then look at the swordsman in disdain in the same breath. Shouldn’t he be grateful his life was protected?

He leaves, heaving the books into the library, but you stop him.

“No, hold on, let us help you.” You try again. “We insist.”

“We do?” The stranger asks incredulously.

“Yes.” You say, gesturing at how the old librarian’s arms are about to give out.

The swordsman looks displeased, but retrieves the books anyway.

“And you, sir,” You turn to the librarian. “You should thank him.”

The old man sputters. 

“Don’t bother.” The stranger says. “Don’t even know why I did.”

The librarian huffs, but his glare falters this time. “...Thank you, lad.”

The green-haired man blinks. Like he doesn’t know what to do after somebody thanks him. It’s strangely endearing.

You both help the librarian get settled inside. It’s still painfully awkward, but you like to think that things turned out well.

The two of you leave the library together. Being in closer proximity, you get a better look at him. He’s exceedingly handsome, but what catches your eye are the three earrings dangling from his left ear.

Your eyes widen in recognition. “Roronoa Zoro.”

“...Do I know you?” He asks, looking at you impassively.

“I’m a journalist.” You say instead of answering him, as you introduce yourself. You point to the newspaper company next door

“Hm.” Is all you get from him. 

You expected many things if you ever met any of the Straw Hats, but extreme disinterest isn’t one of them.

“Do you think I could ask you a few questions?” You ask, hopeful to convince him.

“You get one, and you just asked. So I guess we’re done here.” Zoro says. “Here’s my question, where’s the closest place I can get a drink around here?”

Undeterred, you try to meet him in the middle, “I have a bottle of whiskey in my desk drawer with your name on it.”

When he doesn’t reject you outright, you realize you have a shot at this.

You step towards him, eyes not leaving his as you make him an offer. “How about, I get you a drink, and you answer some questions for me?”

The confidence you feel surging isn’t normal for you, but you lean into it. When else are you going to get this chance?

Zoro studies you, more seriously this time. You can tell the moment his eyes shift that he must see right through to you. That you’re no fighter, but you’re determined. You’ll follow him around town until he gives you what you’re looking for if he disagrees.

To your delight, he nods.

But when you enter the building, you find something that you didn’t expect.

The entire place looks like it had been ransacked. You gasp in horror at the mess. Papers were strewn everywhere, all the desks were in disarray. How could this have happened in the time that you were gone? 

Zoro steps in front of you protectively. A hand hovers on the handle of his blade as he surveys the damage. You can’t help but feel responsible for this.

You should have locked the door. You should have just called it a night. You should have just joined your friends for a drink and worked in the morning like a normal person. You should have—

“This isn’t your fault.” 

Zoro’s back is still to you. For a while, he simply stays still.

Then he says it again. Slower this time, as if to emphasize the words, “This isn’t your fault.”

It’s not much, but it manages to make you pull yourself together. He’s right, it isn’t. So you have to find out who did.

You and Zoro head deeper into the building, taking careful steps in search for clues.

Zoro eyes the staircase leading to the upper floor, and he holds out his arm to block you from going any further.

“What’s wrong?” You ask in a very hushed whisper.

He points up the stairs, where you see the shadow of someone moving.

“I’ll deal with them. Stay here.” He instructs, but you grab his arm before he can take another step.

“No!” You whisper-yell. “I’m going too.”

He gives you that same, unimpressed expression he seems to be so fond of. To be honest, you’re becoming fond of it too. The effect on you is waning, if that's any indication.

“Why do you always look for trouble?” Zoro sighs. “Do what you want.” 

Is it because he’s whispering, or does his voice lack its previous edge when he spoke to you?

You don’t have time to think more on that, however. Zoro begins ascending the stairs. You’ve never been more thankful that the steps are carpeted, your shoes would have clattered loudly otherwise. 

Together, without a sound, you reach the second floor landing. It’s dark, but the damage you see is no better up here. The intruder really left no surface undisturbed. 

Sounds of someone opening and shutting drawers alarms you. Zoro, very carefully, pulls out his sword.

More alarm bells start to ring when Zoro approaches the sound, and you realize it’s coming from your desk.

Zoro holds out an arm again, giving you a look that says stay put this time. Fine. You hang back while he impressively sneaks up behind the intruder without a sound.

The person is rummaging frantically through your desk, making noises that helps Zoro conceal himself. A document falls to the floor, and the shadowed figure kneels down to pick it up. 

Zoro points his blade to their neck before they can get up. They freeze.

You turn on the lamp on the desk nearest you. The light illuminates the room enough that you can finally see the intruder’s face.

Only, it isn’t an intruder.

“Chief Editor Tildie?” You gasp, confused.

Your boss looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but her expression suddenly melts into relief.

“Oh, I’m so glad you two got here! Everything was a mess there were, uh, robbers! Yes, yes—nasty thieves got into the building.” 

That doesn’t make any sense. What would thieves want to steal from a publishing business anyway? 

She cuts you off when you’re about to point out her suspicious behavior, “There were so many of them, I have no idea how they got in! I was going back to pick up some things, and the place was already like this.” 

“My dear…” Editor Tildie looks at you with mock concern, “You didn’t leave the door unlocked, did you?”

How dare she?

“You’re so full of shit.” Zoro tsks, inching his blade closer to her skin. “I would have noticed if a bunch of guys went through the front door.”

You blink when the puzzle clicks in your head. “She was in here the whole time.”

“You can’t prove anything, you wannabe writer!” Editor Tildie bursts out, her expression once again shifting back to panic.

“Who do you think they’re going to believe?” She glares, daring you. “You? Some no-name writer? Or ME, the Chief—”

Zoro knocks her head with the hilt of his sword. She falls with a thud.

You run a hand through your hair, letting out a long sigh. You’re exhausted, but you should really investigate why your boss did all this then try to put the blame on you.

Like the others, your desk was trashed. Even your notes are scattered all over the floor. The map you were painstakingly studying was torn in half. But strangely, the other things you had been working on are missing.

Zoro walks around the desk. “Over here.” He says, having found something.

It’s a large duffel bag, filled to the brim with papers of… rejected articles? You sift through the contents, they all seem to be your co-workers’ recent work. You remember proofreading several of them, everyone has been doing so well lately. 

But why would the Chief Editor steal these after rejecting all of them?

“Could you watch her for a minute, please?” You ask Zoro. “I need to check her office.”

Zoro looks at you strangely, you can’t quite pinpoint his expression. It’s half ‘you’re leaving me here, really?’ and half ‘will you be okay?’.

“Scream if you get into trouble.” He sighs, settling into your office chair. “‘Cause you eventually find it.”

You leave, shaking your head fondly. So he does care.

Inside the Chief Editor’s office, things are a mess as well. You suspect that was probably done to throw investigators off. But she left some things here, and from there, it’s easy to put together what happened.

A briefcase sits on her desk. It’s left open, with several letters lying inside. They’re all correspondence with famous newspapers.

‘The East Blue Daily would be delighted to host your article on the events in Orange Town. Please submit a draft at your earliest convenience. We are excited to...’

You have to set the letter down and stop reading. This bitch was planning to steal everyone’s work. Fury rushes into your head as you let out a disbelieving laugh. How could she do this after tearing everyone down?

It finally makes sense why she never greenlit any of the best articles. She probably sent them to other companies claiming they were her original work.

Judging from the other letters and her packed bags, she likely intended for this to be her last stunt. The Oceanic Times would sink into nothing, and she would be off to work for some famous paper.

And she was right. If you and Zoro hadn’t caught her, no one other than your co-workers would believe you that she did this. And none of you were reputable enough to be considered credible. You would probably have to take the fall for leaving the door unlocked, just like she planned.

Zoro calls out your name when you’ve been in here for a few minutes. Despite how drained and tired you feel, you gather the evidence in the suitcase, carrying it out with you. 

You must look worse than you thought, because Zoro’s brows furrow in concern when he sees you.

Zoro hasn’t gotten up from your chair. He remains silent and still, but his attention on you is unwavering.

“She was planning to steal our work.” You explain, sitting on top of your desk. “I would’ve been powerless.”

“Would’ve been.” Zoro says. “But you’re not.”

When he stands, you worry that he might be leaving you. But instead, he drags Tildie (who you notice has been tied up) and traps her in her own office. Zoro moves a desk to block the door.

As he pushes it, your eyes follow the movement of his arms. You have to turn away to hide your flustered expression. For some reason, you remember Tildie’s words about your article: this is highly inappropriate.

He comes back, reclaiming his (your) chair. His hands reach for something under the desk. Under your legs. This is highly—

All thoughts in your head stop on their tracks when he meets your eyes again. He’s holding the whiskey you mentioned. You were about to mention your surprise that he didn’t drink any yet, but the words die in your throat. It’s entrancing the way his eyes seem to glow the same color as the liquid. 

Zoro taps the glass with his fingers. “I think this bottle has both our names on it.”

If you were in a normal state of mind, you would probably be embarrassed by how much you’re crying in front of Roronoa Zoro. Maybe Zoro would even regret offering you a drink.

You’re not drunk yet, but you’re probably getting there since you’re becoming an emotional mess. Thankfully, Zoro is an excellent listener. You let everything out.

“I just want to write. I want people to read my work.” You sob as you tape your map of the East Blue back together.

Zoro hums, indicating he hears you. One of his arms is extended on your desk, laden with strips of tape. How you managed to use Roronoa Zoro as a tape dispenser is beyond you, but you feel strangely proud of it.

“Why don’t you write, then?” Zoro asks, not taking his eyes off you.

“I can’t!” You sniff before pulling another piece of tape from his skin. “Tildie—that bitch—do you know her? She’s awful, she never approves of our good articles.”

“She’s gone now.” He says. “You can write what you want.” 

“Oh.” Right. He’s right, of course he is. “Okay then.”

There’s a beat of silence while you fix your map. When you’re done, you beam at Zoro.

“I’ll write about you.”

He lets out a breathy laugh. “Will you, now?”

“You can bet on it.” Smoothing your fingers over your mended map, you say wistfully, “I wonder where you’ll head off to next.”

Before he can answer that, you voice out a thought that feels strangely sad.

“...I wonder if you’ll come back.”

You can’t even meet his eyes anymore. Half-drunk or not, you knew how embarrassing that was to say. You only met a few hours ago, but why does it feel like you’ll miss him more than anything when he leaves?

“That depends,” Zoro clears his throat. “Are you going to give me a reason to?”

The way your face lit up with shock and happiness was so adorable that it caught Zoro by surprise. He almost lets out a full laugh, but he manages to conceal it with a fake cough.

Leaning down, you grab his shoulder and pull him to you. The office chair rolls over to right where you want him.

This is highly inappropriate… But you can’t help yourself when you respond, “You can bet on that too.”

Kissing Zoro feels electric. You feel your head go fuzzy and your hands are eager to hold onto something. So you hold onto him; the back of his neck—thread your fingers into his hair. He keeps his hands on your waist. They do not wander, but he grips you like you’re some sort of lifeline.

Lifeline.

You break the kiss abruptly, getting an epiphany. This whole experience was a mess, but this could be the lifeline you've been waiting for.

Zoro groans, trying to pull you down for another kiss, but you stop him with a grin, “Do you think I could ask you a few questions?” 

Before the interview, Zoro set some ground rules. A few of them involved you, like how you were not to disclose your relationship unless absolutely necessary, since it could put you in danger.

Others involved his crew, such as he couldn’t go into detail with the members and their abilities. That would just be too risky.

The questions themselves don’t necessarily matter to you, since the interview alone will be a huge boost for The Oceanic Times. So you agree to all of his terms… Including the one where he gets a kiss for each answer he gives.

“When you met Luffy,” You begin, “Did you know that you were going to follow him? Or did it take some convincing?”

“Convincing.” Zoro answers.

You wait for him to elaborate. “...Is that it?”

“Yes.” He responds before nudging you, “That’s two.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you kiss him twice but pull away before he can deepen it.

He frowns at you, and you laugh as you ask your next question, “So you didn’t plan on becoming a pirate?”

“No.” 

“...”

“...”

“...Zoro, stop making me ask more than one question.” You say, unimpressed.

“Don’t ask questions that can be answered with one word, then.” He quips back challengingly.

You hate that he’s got you there. You miss his lips on purpose, kissing his cheek in retaliation.

“What was that?” Zoro complains.

“A kiss.” You answer smugly as you write things down in your notebook. You hit him with your last question.

“Why do you follow your captain?” 

To your credit, this one makes him think for a minute. 

“...Because we all have dreams, and we’re all going to get there together.”

You smile at him, touched. “That’s beautiful.”

Zoro makes a face, leaning back into his seat. “Nevermind, don’t write that down. I take it back.”

“Aw,” You tease. “I wonder what your captain will say about that.”

Zoro grumbles something about how he shouldn't have answered that, but you can tell he meant it. But not to worry, you weren’t about to write some sap piece his enemies can use against him.

You were going to make breaking news.

That was the plan. Or it was, until you fell asleep at some point during the night. You had pulled over another chair, working your typewriter to the bone as you burned through your adrenaline rush.

You woke up the next morning with Zoro leaning on your shoulder; he was still asleep. You took this quiet minute as an opportunity to admire him.

Things would have gone so much differently if he hadn't been around. You probably would have gone out to help the librarian with those thugs alone, and you wouldn’t have made it back to the office soon enough to catch Tildie.

Realization dawns on you. Tildie probably hired those thugs herself, so that you would be preoccupied. You make a mental note to have those thugs questioned later. 

All that’s happened… It was scary, yet exciting, since Zoro was with you. He makes you feel eager to find the next big story to write about.

He rouses at that moment, eyes slowly blinking awake. He yawns and stretches, and when he properly looks at you, he shakes his head at your expression.

“Now I know what face you make when you want to go looking for trouble.”

After you reach out to the authorities, Zoro leaves to find his crew. You were sure they were worried sick by now, since he’s been gone so long. He tells you that they’re scheduled to leave this afternoon.

You’ll miss him, but you know it’s for the best.

The harbor is bustling with life when you get there, the complete contrast to how it was months ago. Funny how in both times your feet take you here, you’re wondering where a certain group of pirates are.

But your pirate is easy to find, he’s waiting for you by his crew’s ship. 

“Came to give me a reason to come back?” Zoro jests, taking your hand once you’re close enough.

“Couldn’t wait to see you leave, actually.” You joke. He startles you by pulling you close.

You’re about to kiss him when he spots something over your head that makes him frown. Your eyes follow his gaze to find his crew members watching you both.

“Don’t mind us! We’re just enjoying the show!” The one with a bandana on his head yells out.

“Did I miss something? I missed something, didn’t I?” A blond man asks, his face completely flabbergasted.

“I think we all did.” The woman next to him remarks.

“But we’re really happy for you, Zoro!” Their captain cheers and whoops.

Indeed, now might be a good time for the sea to swallow you up. Maybe you should jump?

“Get lost.” Zoro snaps at them. They all holler and laugh, but do as he says.

“Um,” You say. Maybe you should just give him his farewell present to distract yourself from the embarrassment. “I got you this.” You hand him a folded piece of paper.

It’s your article on Orange Town. One of his very first adventures, and the moment you first heard of him retyped on a special kind of stationery and everything. You even made sure the ink is good quality so that it doesn’t fade. (You also spritzed it with your perfume, but he doesn’t need to know that.)

“Ask your friends to read it, please?” You request. “Then tell me what you all think about it.”

Zoro glances at the paper, recognizing how much work you put into it, and how much you went through to get to where you are now. 

“I’m sure it’s perfect.” The soft, small smile he gives you makes you feel weak in the knees.

He pulls you in again, his arms embracing your waist. You respond by draping your arms over his shoulders. Your fingers play with the back of his hair.

“Write to me?” You ask softly, only for him to hear.

“Writing isn't really my thing.”

You pout.

“...I’ll send you a postcard or something.”

A laugh escapes you. That was such a Zoro kind of compromise. “I’ll take it.”

“As for me,” He presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll take this.”

The kiss is different from the kisses you shared last night. Maybe it’s because you don’t know when the next one will be. He kisses you dearly, showing you how much he cares when he holds the sides of your face tenderly.

“...See you soon.” You greet him.

The words strangely get stuck in Zoro’s throat, but he gets them out nonetheless. 

“See you soon.”

…

“Right,” Sanji taps a pen on his notepad. “Does anyone else need anything from the market?”

Luffy approaches him, reading the contents of the list over his shoulder. “Nope! I think you got everything.”

If the captain says so, he must be right. But Sanji makes a face, still feeling like he's missing something. He's double checking the cupboards when Nami walks into the kitchen.

“Nami!” Sanji beams. “Do you need me to get you anything from the market?”

“Sanji thinks he's forgetting something.” Luffy explains to her, pointing to the notepad left on the counter.

Leave it to Nami to figure out what's missing at a glance. “Zoro's newspaper.” She says, and the boys nod in realization at the same time.

“Ah, right.” Sanji scribbles The Oceanic Times onto the list.

“I’m actually really impressed by her.” Nami says on her way to crash on the couch. “She writes well.”

“Damn right she does.” Zoro says, entering the room with Usopp right behind him.

“Yeah but man,” Usopp complains, “You need to let us finish reading. You always hog it or give us a time limit on it.”

Zoro merely shrugs, like that isn’t his concern. “Buy one for yourself then.”

Nami smirks. “She must have you really whipped if you’re marketing for her.”

“I don’t think she needs it, actually.” Luffy comments. “The paper is doing really well, isn’t it?”

A small smile forms on Zoro’s lips. “Damn right it is.”

When he gets his hands on The Oceanic Times later that day, Zoro reads every bit of it. He rereads your name over and over again, proud of the ‘Editor in Chief’ title that goes before it. 

Though he reads every single word, he always skips the small gossip corner first, where anonymous people send in messages or thoughts.

Every week, like clockwork, there’s an anonymous reader who submits messages for her distant lover. When he first saw it, he instantly knew it was you.

‘I heard you were injured. I can’t believe you’re making me worry like this.’

Zoro laughs, and everyone in the kitchen freezes.

He slowly, almost cautiously, glances up from the paper. The Straw Hats look at him with a tricky sparkle in their eyes that makes him uncomfortable.

“Don’t even—” Zoro starts, but it’s too late. Usopp is already standing on his chair, acting like a newspaper salesman.

“Step right up! Read all about it! It’s breaking news: The Roronoa Zoro giggled because of his girlfriend—” 

“You have three seconds to run.” Zoro threatens while folding the newspaper carefully. Usopp runs for his life.

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