#I think the little fish ruined it but I wanted to try something new-

[shegetsburned]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | part ii ‧₊˚ 𓐐⋅

• — ft. shiu kong. kinji hakari. choso kamo. atsuya kusakabe. hiromi higuruma.

bon appétit !! @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐮 𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐠

so i think this man loves to try new dishes and makes you try new things with him with a giant grin on his face.

normally he’d take you to fancy restaurants, but this time he wanted to do something just the two of you in a calmer place.

hates for you to do anything so he’ll insist on doing everything himself so that you could relax while he cooks.

he already had an idea as soon as you guys agreed on doing this. and you can be sure as hell it involves cheese. man adores cheese, so if you do too, you’ll be served.

this time, just for you, he went out himself on his day off and bought the runniest cheese you’ve ever seen in your life. we all know these are just the best kinds.

this afternoon, you were served a burrata. it’s a soft, white, cow’s milk cheese made from mozzarella and cream. hard on the outside but filled with stracciatella on the inside which is more creamy. served with candied cherry tomato with a piece of buttered and grilled bread.

as you take a bite of the cheese he admires every expression of yours and a warm laugh echoes through the room when you show how tasteful it is.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢

honestly, i’m thinking fast food or something.

or maybe just take-outs but in an expensive asf place.

i feel like he loves food but prefers ordering instead of cooking. he finds cooking boring and we know how much this man hates boring stuff.

will buy you whatever the hell you want, doesn't slightly care how much you want to eat, he'd buy the whole restaurant if he could.

you can get whatever you want, there is no way you can be disappointed with the meal. in a way, he ensures you’ll eat something you like by letting you choose what you want, which certainly satisfies him.

also prefers to stay cozily at home with you to eat than actually go out. so expensive take-outs it is. you don’t even have to lift your butt off the seat. it’ll all come to you.

you’ll get your favorite meal and he won’t hesitate a second to buy it for you. might seem boring but he really would buy you anything you want and silently watch you hum with pleasure every time you take a bite of that dish. your happiness is what matters.

𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐨

i have a feeling he has no idea what humans prefer to eat in this day and age so he’d do a thorough internet research to know what you’ll undoubtedly like.

“what is the most liked dish in the world?” “what do humans prefer to eat the most?” “how do i cook chicken?” “what’s the easiest, but best dish to make?”

all of this research would make him think it’s either spaghetti or pizza. and he’ll choose spaghetti, because of you know which flashback with his little bros.

sticks his tongue out while he’s preparing your meal, trying to get every portion down to the tiniest milligram right. he wants it to be perfect. and he probably thinks it’ll ruin the whole dinner if the portions aren’t right.

i’m thinking of carbonara pasta. you know the real version using eggs and pecorino with a touch of lardons.

once you take the first bite, he stares at you, patiently waiting for any sign of distaste or displeasure. there’s no way he botched it. everything is right down to the tiniest detail. and he can tell he’s done it when you quickly finish your plate and ask for more. there’s nothing making him happier.

𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐞

he’s big on fishing so i’m thinking one of the fish he caught. his favourite.

something simple but still good and he’d find the freshest and best ingredients for you.

he’s been fishing for a long time and has acquired enough knowledge and skills to know which ingredients are best served which certain types of fish. you definitely won’t be disappointed.

will prepare everything in advance, removing the pin bones in advance and every part that isn’t edible. he does it just to be sure it’ll be ready for when you’re here. also, he knows it’s way safer that way, knowing he won’t be rushing to cook it later.

man does not want to mess this up and has never worked so hard to make a perfect meal, brows connecting as he works his tired ass off. he cannot mess this up considering you’ll be the one eating it.

how about braised alfonsino/kinmedai with some rice and avocado on the side? all gently simmered in a flavorful sauce made of soy sauce, sake, mirin and ginger.

he exhales abnormally loud as soon as you finally show a smile after having a taste. all the pressure now off of his shoulders. you don’t know how glad this man is that you enjoy the fish he personally caught for you. i know he’ll now think of you every time he goes out fishing, wondering which fish you’d like most.

𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚

i just know in my heart, or at least believe, that he’s distinguished and the meal will cost him a fortune.

only the best and most expensive ingredients for you, dear.

don’t be surprised if you come back to a candlelight dinner prepared by your one and only, while he sips the most delicate wine, waiting for you.

by the way, he knows so much about wine and beverages. he knows exactly what you like and what would be a perfect mixture with the meal he prepared.

also when he cooks he likes to take his time, preparing the meal with love and attention knowing it’ll be for his one and only.

so for him, i’m thinking of seafood. he’ll serve you flamed cornish lobster with a yakitori marinade and a ponzu mayonnaise. there’ll be a garnish made of sliced radishes and nori strips. the presentation leaves you baffled. it looks like it came straight out of a five-star restaurant. it smells absolutely divine and you can’t expect less from this man.

when you start digging in, he can’t help but smile while he looks at you with tenderness and love. if he could, he’d look at you through the whole dinner and watch you enjoy that delicious meal he prepared.

© shegetsburned 2024. Please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

#divider by plutism #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #shiu kong #jjk shiu #shiu x reader #hakari kinji #jjk hakari #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk #can you tell i like cheese #hakari x reader #atsuya kusakabe #kusakabe x reader #jjk kusakabe #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #food

[cataclysmic-cathexis]

Can we take it... slow?

Because I am once again completely normal about a piece of media, here is a visual essay on You Wear Fine Things Well Take 2: Faces and What Those Faces Are Doing (It's Kissing, But Also Emotions)

(I lightened all these screenshots up so the faces are more visible)

Ed is telling Stede his very sweet fishing story. Stede is reacting totally appropriately - gasping, eyes wide, interested and adorable. He's genuinely loving spending this time with Ed, hearing about his day.

He even leans forward to examine the lil fishy. CUTE. He's just so happy to be here, with Ed, talking about their days, spending time together. ("I love being near you.")

Stede tells Ed his abbreviated "cursed suit" story, where Ed delivers the "that wasn't a long story at all" line deadpan with this hilarious face:

(Why is this face so funny? Scientists in the future may know, but alas, this mystery will not be answered within our lifetime.)

Ed then ups the ante - going from that hilarious face to this SCORCHING HOT ONE after uttering the line that ruined the life of everyone on this hellsite

You wear fine things well

Those big brown 'come hither' eyes are HITHERING (it's a word, don't Google it tho)

What I also like about the refrain of "you wear fine things well" - Ed is signaling to Stede that he is ready to take another step. In the last episode, Ed put down a firm boundary - "you don't get to say that to me." Stede, in his adorable, desperate, determined, stubborn yet respectful way, backed off (by delivering an arguably MORE romantic speech but whatever - he respected Ed's boundary and didn't say "I love you"). Ed is pulling from their shared history, from a beautiful moment where they both felt something (although it's arguable as to whether or not in the moment Stede actually knew what he was feeling - he certainly with hindsight was like OOOOOOOOHHH).

So Ed is giving Stede the ok to take a step forward - which he does, while making this face with is the human equivalent of the heart eyes emoji:

Stede then looks away - and he stays in place, letting Ed come to him, making sure it's Ed to initiate. I think Stede wants Ed to be sure, doesn't want to push, since he knows how badly he fucked up and knows how deep Ed's hurt is.

Stede looks back up, but stays in place. Ed is looking at him with such vulnerability...

..as he slowly does his adorable little teenager-about-to-have-their-first-kiss shuffle...

And he leans in for that sweet kiss under the waxing moon.

Initially it's just Ed who is leaning in, but then Stede leans into the kiss as well - and deepens it.

Ed is then like "ok weird for ME to be the one saying this but it's probably healthier if we don't skip straight to banging each other's brains out on the deck of the ship and like, make sure of our feelings first"

After Ed says "We're whim-prone, as you said," Stede goes through a little mini crisis. First, fuck why did I say that:

Then - before Ed can finish what he's saying, Stede's face falls. He's so worried he's messed this up. Ed gave him a kiss and he tried to go too fast, and he's getting rejected again.

He tries to put a brave face on it, but our lil guy is SO SAD

Then once Ed finishes his fish metaphor ("You can't catch a fish unless the fish wants to be caught") Stede realises that Ed isn't rejecting him. I think Ed's vulnerability here and how unsure he is ("we're the fish, I guess. Maybe. I think.") helps Stede to remember hey, this isn't about me and my stuff right now, this is about Ed and Ed's stuff.

Stede gains a little confidence back. He's reassured. Ed is still trying to figure out who he is without Blackbeard, and Stede gets it. And Ed still wants him to be a part of who the new Ed is ("we're the fish"). He's like ok, I got u babe.

So he pulls himself back, but he still wants Ed to feel his affection, and to know that Ed is loved. So he holds Ed's hand and asks for permission.

"What about this? Is this alright?"

"This? Perfect."

Then they have their adorable little hand moment - just happy that they understand one another, happy to be touching, happy to be together.

"You won." Stede whispers.

Ed looks away, beaming:

And, in contrast to the last time they stood on the deck, under the moon, and said "you wear fine things well", this time they walk off together.

FIN.

#cool #cool cool cool #again i am completely normal about this piece of media #did i hyperfixate and take screenshots of this entire episode? MAYBE but that's MY BUSINESS #ramblings #ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd s2 ep5 #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ed teach #stede bonnet #ed teach loves stede bonnet #stede bonnet loves ed teach #you wear fine things well #our flag means death #ofmd meta

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 10)

cregan stark x reader

A/N: I keep forgetting I exist. Sorry this is short oopsies

WORD COUNT: 982 words

series masterlist

You hardly see him for weeks. Any new wife would expect her husband to impress his needs upon her frequently after the wedding night in hopes of creating an heir but you almost knew he wouldn’t. There’s something so strange about Cregan Stark; he’s empathetic. It’s not a trait you knew any man could hold. In reality, you should be pleased that your husband doesn’t wish to rape you but you’re more frustrated. He shall want for a son eventually, won’t he? This is only delaying the inevitable and you are a ‘get it over with’ kind of woman.

You arrive at his chambers with little more than a knock on the door. “Do you not wish for an heir, Lord Stark?”

“Good morning.” He murmurs, looking up from the papers on his desk.

“An heir? Is it your wish or not?” You say, disregarding his greeting.

He sighs, already stressed from reading over land disputes and not wishing to be stressed over his petulant wife. “Of course I want for a son.”

“You haven’t visited my chambers in weeks.”

“I did not think you wanted me to.” He looks at you, confused and a bit sorrowful.

“There is only one way to make a child.”

Gods he thinks you look so like a child when you stand there with such false assurance. It makes him feel wretched.

“You weeped the last time I took you to bed. I have been trying to give you time so that you might… recover?” The words don’t feel right to him. “I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“Lying with you caused me no feelings of importance.”

Cregan counts to ten in his head but only makes it to five. He then stands abruptly.

“You will watch your tone when you speak to me!” He says, fed up with your lack of decorum.

You gape at him like a fish. He went from so pitiful to angry so quickly.

“I have done all I can to make you comfortable, all I can to make you feel welcomed and at every turn, you insult me! You have spent your entire life as the spoilt daughter of the Queen and for that, I do not blame you but I can only be so lenient. You will no longer take liberties with how you speak to me. I am your husband and you will learn to treat me as such.” He breathes heavily after letting all his emotions go. “Even princesses don’t speak to their spouses in the way you speak to me.”

“I’m not your wife by choice. I didn’t want this.” You protest in justification of your own cruelty.

He scoffs. “And do you think I did?”

“You asked for my hand.”

“Her Grace offered me your hand.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“Is that truly what you think? Are you really so naive as to believe that? Everyone of our station marries for advantage. I am no different and neither are you.” Even when he shouted at you only moments ago, he never sounded as hateful as he does right now.

“And you’re happy with this standard?” You ask with level headed contemplation.

“Of course I’m not but it’s what is done.”

“It isn’t fair for you to fault me for wanting something more when you’re also unhappy with it… especially when you know it’s more difficult for women than men.” You desperately want him to understand you. You just want somebody to understand.

“We all make sacrifices for the people we love.” He says dutifully.

“I make the sacrifices while my brothers marry for love. How is that fair?”

“So you’re bitter? Prince Jacaerys will be king one day. That’s a much greater sacrifice than marrying for advantage.”

The tears prickle in your eyes. You should’ve known.

“At least he won’t be alone.”

You don’t want to argue anymore, or rather be scolded like a dumb child so you leave, striding back to your room.

You stare into the mirror when you arrive. Would your mother be disappointed by how disagreeable you are, how disobedient? Daemon wouldn’t. But you aren’t Daemon Targaryen. You’re just a girl, a girl that might ruin an alliance if you can’t make nice with your husband. Should you care? Your stepfather wouldn’t. Dragon riders don’t obey societal norms… but you do care… ever so slightly.

~~~

A voice at the door. Does he want to be let in only so he can say a hundred words that mean so little?

“Enter.”

Your husband, tall and strong walks into the room, reminding you of someone you used to know. He’s kind and brave like him.

“I should not have shouted at you. I just feel as though I’m not heard when I’m quiet but that is no justification.” He stares at the back of your head. You don’t turn to face him, looking out the window instead of at the mirror. This is your home now. He will become your home - he could become your home.

“If I walked out the door right now and never came back, would you try and stop me?” You aren’t angry about his shouting; you’re used to fire.

“No.”

“It would destroy the alliance. You could side with the Hightowers or simply just watch as they take my mother’s throne.”

“You could walk out that door, get on your dragon and never come back and I would keep my oath to the Queen.”

Gods he really is decent.

“Where would you go?” He asks like you haven’t just said you might run out on your marriage.

“Old Valyria.”

“You would die.”

“I would.”

“I’m not sorry for making things difficult for you but I acknowledge that I have.”

He smiles a bit woefully. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, princess.”

“Any woman in Westeros would consider herself lucky to be your wife.”

“Hmm… almost any it seems.”

Comment to be added to taglist

#lord husband #cregan stark fic #cregan fic #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan stark #hotd

[polakina]

on his knees for you

pairing: javier escuella x reader

rating: mature

outline: a robbery goes sideways, and your already rocky friendship with a fellow camp mate is put to the test as you evade the guards of Van Horn

warnings: cursing, so much bickering, canon-typical gore and violence, flirting, slightly suggestive (this is by far the tamest thing i've ever written)

requests are open! hope you enjoy, petals <3

a/n: i can't believe how many notifications i've gotten about my works over the past week. its fucking crazy. thank you so much, you're all absolute stars

masterlist

II

It was a simple job, really. Get in, steal the bonds, and get out.

But nothing ever went as simple as the original plan, did it? Not with the Van Der Linde gang. There was always a little bit of improvisation to be had. Which was exactly what you were doing right now.

Bullets firing past your ears, blood running down your leg, the target’s personal guards chasing you down the winding paths of Roanoke Ridge.

-

One day earlier.

The plan was set. Arthur, Bill and Lenny were to infiltrate the building and steal the bonds, while Micah and Charles handled the guards. You and Javier were on lookout, posted at the entrance gates. 

You were all stationed just outside of Van Horn, your target being the mansion and its occupiers. Trelawny had brought intel of bonds on their way through Van Horn to Annesburg, stopping off at the mansion overnight. Roanoke wasn’t a place anyone wanted to be caught up in at night.

“It’s fucking freezing out here,” you muttered, leaning further against your horse, absorbing his body heat as much as you could. It had been hours of waiting around and checking on the mansion. No movement whatsoever since the sun began to set. Darkness was nearing and the coach was nowhere to be seen.

Javier stood beside you, rifle in hand, eyes fixated on the road to the right, where the coach should appear from. “Want my poncho?” He asked, glancing at you briefly.

You didn’t even cast him a look as you responded. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your style, Escuella. I think I’ll survive without it.” You sighed, and moved from your position, heading further down the road, hiding in the trees to watch from a different position, seeing the road winding down Roanoke Ridge to New Hanover.

The two of you had never gotten along. He didn’t like your attitude one bit. You were snarky, cold. Something you’d developed after years of running with Arthur and John. He’d try and make conversation, you’d brush it off. He’d invite you on a fishing or hunting trip, you’d decline and say you preferred to hunt alone. He couldn’t win. You never sat with the camp during his songs or meals, you were always perched somewhere else, keeping lookout. That’s what you did. That’s all you ever did. 

So after a few months, he gave up. Not exactly understanding your harshness to him, he just accepted it instead. He returned your cold comments and your mean stares. Years passed and you bickered like enemies living beside one another. 

You whistled out to the group as you spotted the coach. Your whistle blended with the birds, so it was undetected by the gourds watching the bonds.

Everything went smoothly, Arthur, Lenny and Bill making quick work of breaking into the bonds lock box, and you heard the guards grunting and groaning as they hit the floor from Micah and Bill’s attacks.

Through your scope, you spotted as the boys grabbed the bonds, throwing them into their satchels. Drifting your rifle along the side of the mansion, you sensed something wrong with Bill. He was arguing with Micah. More so than usual. 

“What’s going on?” Javier whispered, lying beside you, hidden between the trees.

You shushed him, focusing on Bill. Their argument grew even more heated, and you caught a glimpse of lantern light behind them. You watched as they turned, cursing loudly before returning fire. Micah had scurried off during the brawl with the guards, seeking other treasures and getting himself caught in a scuff with guardsmen minding their own business.

“Shit, shit,” Javier cursed, throwing an arm over you and holding you down, protecting your head as bullets fired your way. “He can’t keep his head for one mission, puta madre!”

Arthur had ordered for, if the mission went south; which you had good money on it that it did, that you scatter. Split up and evade Van Horn at all costs, go the long way around New Hanover until it was safe to return back to camp so you were sure you weren’t followed. 

They had the bonds, all they needed to do was escape without getting caught. But you wouldn’t have minded if Micah got murdered in the. Just when you thought he’d found your last nerve, he managed to hit another one.

“I think this is our cue to leave,” you said through gritted teeth, pushing yourself onto your feet and grabbing your gear. Javier was on your heels, close behind. You hiked deeper into Murfree Brood territory, constantly keeping an eye over your shoulders for lantern light.

“Our safest path is through Roanoke,” Javier said from behind you, following your path through the trees. “The guards won’t dare follow us through there this late at night.”

You halted suddenly, whipping around to face Javier. He was caught off guard, almost stumbling into you, a surprised expression on his face. “Are you crazy, Escuella? Murfree Brood hunt here at night. If it’s not the guards who get us, it’ll be them. And I’d rather take my chances with bullets rather than-”

A bullet shot through the wind, straight through your leg into the tree behind you. It caught your words in your throat and you almost crumbled to the ground under the pain firing down your leg. Javier didn’t even blink as he wrapped an arm around you, catching you before you fell. He pulled his gun from its holster at his hip, pointing it over your shoulder and firing it straight into the head of the guard who fired at you first.

It drew attention. Of course, it did. Javier pulled you away from the scene, down the winding path leading to New Hanover. His arm stayed firmly around your waist, and you tried to hold in your groans of pain as your feet collided with uneven terrain, worsening the sting of the wound.

You both heard voices, coming from the top of the hill of which you had just descended. Javier pulled you around a large oak tree, pushing your body against the bark which pulled a pained gasp from your lips. “Fucking hell, Javier. At least try to be gentler with-” His hand clamped over your mouth, his body pressed against yours as he looked past the tree trunk to the guards making their way past you, checking their surroundings as they went. 

“You need to learn to shut up once in a while,” he whispered, looking back to you. His hat was tipped down his head, shielding his eyes. “I’m trying to save you and you’re still complaining.”

You looked up at him, your mouth still firmly covered, your hand wrapped around his wrist, instinct from when he shut you up. He smelled of whiskey and firewood, his scent filling your nostrils. His hand wrapped around your waist protectively, tightening as the footsteps grew closer.

Pulling his hand down, you noticed his skin never left yours. It rested around your neck. Softly, no pressure in his fingers, but the heat of his palm burned against your pulse, and he felt your heart rate jump. “Thought you would have wanted to get rid of me, Escuella,” you whispered, looking up at him. 

But he just looked down at you, surprised. “What?”

“Get rid of me. Hand me off to some guards searching through half the woods for us.” Your gaze never wavered. “Would certainly save you the trouble of dealing with me back at camp.”

He just smirked, tilting his head up, his eyes turned down to look at you. “And why would I want to get rid of you? Perhaps I enjoy the trouble you cause me. Ever thought about that?” His eyebrows raised as you stood there, unable to form words. “So are you going to  shut up and behave yourself while I get you out of here? Or are you going to keep talking until they figure out where we are?”

Javier waited for your response, but it never came. You just bowed your head, sealing your lips in a thin line. He took that as a sign that you’d ‘shut up and behave’. 

The men eventually left, abandoning their search for you, leaving both you and Javier a window of opportunity to flee.

-

The sun poked out above the trees from the makeshift camp Javier had set up in New Hanover. You were shielded by the canopy of branches, the fire in front of you keeping you warm. But it wasn’t doing anything good for the bullet wound in your leg. You stretched out your leg, wincing at the pain shooting through your body.

“I told you not to try and fix it by yourself,” you heard Javier say as he emerged with an armful of firewood, dropping it by your bags. “Your hands will shake before you’ve finished stitching it.”

You glared up at him. “Would you suggest I just leave it? Cut my leg off?”

Javier rolled his eyes at you, kneeling in front of you, his knees on either side of your wounded leg. “I would suggest…that you should wait for me. I’ll stitch it for you.”

Pulling his knife from the holster at his ankle, he sliced the blade through the fabric of your pant leg like butter. All the way up to your hip. “Hey!” You called out. “They were new pants.”

“I’ll buy you a replacement. Now shut up.” He was always harsh with his words, but now, it was even more so. A slight pang of worry soaked his tone.

“You’re such an ass sometimes-ow!” His fingers pushed against the wound on your leg, blood pooling out to the floor. “The fuck was that for?”

He looked indifferent as he looked up at you. “Feeling for any shrapnel. You don’t have any, thankfully, or else this would have hurt a lot more than its about to.”

“I could have told you that,” you grimaced as he began cleaning the wound. Applying pressure to one end of the bullet hole only forced blood through the other side. You could see both the entry point and exit point of the wound, stretching across the left and right sides of your leg.

You were both silent as he cleaned your leg, but you gasped as he pulled out a needle. He saw a panicked flash across your face, seeing it appear as quickly as it fled. “Easy,” he soothed, patting your knee. “I’ll be quick. You won’t feel it.”

“Don’t lie to me,” you whispered, your eyes only focused on the needle.

He sighed, leaning closer, tipping your chin up to meet his softened gaze. “Okay. You will feel it. But not much. A bee sting, that’s all it feels like. But it’ll be easier if you lie down.”

“Why?”

“Your muscles tense when you sit upright. You could at least be comfortable while I stitch you up.” He helped you into a more comfortable position. Javier still straddled your shin, one of his hands pressed against your thigh while his other stitched the hole closed. You laid there, his poncho acting as your pillow as you looked up at the trees.

You ignored the sting you felt each time the needle pierced your skin. Javier wasn’t wrong, it did feel like a bee sting. What’s more important, was that you could manage that sort of pain. “Thank you,” you said quietly, but you weren’t certain he heard you at first, until the needle stopped in your skin, his actions immoveable. Lifting your head and straining your neck, you met his eye. There was a small smile on his face, the corners of his moustache turned upwards with his laugh lines driven deep into his skin. You always did like his smile. That was the one thing that never changed about him. 

“It’s the least I can do,” he smiled, turning his attention back to your stitches. “It’s sort of my fault you got shot in the first place.”

“Sort of? You mean ‘entirely’?” You laughed as he playfully slapped your other leg with the back of his hand.

“Quit laughing,” he chuckled with you. “Or I’ll end up stabbing you in the wrong place.”

He finished quickly, wiping away any trace of blood before gently bandaging your leg. His soft touch lingered for a little while, his thumb gently rubbing soothing patterns into your skin. Your breath stopped in your throat as his touch rose higher. Higher up your thigh. To where your thigh met your hip. He was so fixated on it, he didn’t realise what he was doing until he felt your pulse beating at an ungodly rate at the top of your inner thigh.

His eyes flicked up to yours, where you laid, patiently. You were curious what sorts of thoughts were running through his head right now. What sort of cogs were turning in that brain of his.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your face closer to his than it had ever been before. “What?” You coaxed, too curious to keep quiet now.

“Nothing,” he moved to lean back, his hands drifting down your thighs, but they never left your body before you grabbed the front of his shirt, holding him in place.

“What did I say? Don’t lie to me, Javier.” Your voice never raised above a whisper. It didn’t need to. You were so close a whisper felt like a shout.

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t speak. The close proximity had rendered him faulty in speech. So instead he closed the gap. His lips touched yours, his body melting against your touch. You didn’t expect it. All those years of bickering. All those years of cruel comments and nasty looks. Nothing prepared you for this. But you welcomed it.

Javier leaned you back, your head meeting the poncho  as you felt his body settle on top of yours. Breaking away for air, you saw a softened, kinder look in his eye when he looked at you. “Is this your apology for me getting shot?” You asked, smiling against his lips as he kissed you once more.

“Is it working?” His lips moved to your neck, hovering above your skin to a point where it tickled.

“Hmm…maybe.” 

“Then perhaps I’ll try a different angle,” he smirked, unbuttoning your pants, encapturing your lips in a soft kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He had a lot of making up to do.

#fluff #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption x reader #javier escuella smut #javier escuella rdr2 #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella #rdr2 smut #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption two #red dead fandom

[c0ntraversial-h0rr0r-c0ntent]

A Lace Surprise [Bo Sinclair x female reader] | NSFW

You buy some lingerie and Bo fucks you in it. 1.7k [daddy kink, lingerie (getting ruined), penetration, Bo being a lil toxic and possessive, huuuge dick]

“What’s that baby girl?”

God fucking damnit. You freeze. He wasn’t supposed to be home for at least another hour.

“I thought you were working.”

“Oh,” His brow furrows and he steps towards you. You try to back up but hit the door—shit, there’s to go. “I’m sorry baby, am I not allowed to come home early? To my fuckin’ house?”

“No I just,”

“I just wanted to come home early and see my girl and now,” His eyes narrow. “I have to deal with you bein’ sneaky. What’s in the fucking bag?”

“It’s,” He snatches it out of your hand before you explain. He reaches in and pulls out the first piece, one of the satin stockings.

“Aw princess, why didn’t you just tell me you had a little present for me?”

He pulls the other stocking out, then holds up the lace underwear.

“Good choices baby.” He purrs. Then the garter belts. That was the real present—Bo loves the way his fingers dig into your thighs and you’ve always wondered if he’d feel the same way about watching something else press into them. The fact that they were leather didn’t hurt either.

He doesn’t say anything, just puts his hands on your shoulders and brings you away from the wall. He hands you the bag, then brings an arm behind your knees and one behind your shoulders and suddenly you’re in the air.

Bo loves carrying you around. You suspect it’s because of his control issues but you’re definitely not complaining. The first time he had gone to pick you up you were taken aback—“are you sure you can carry me?” He had just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Don’t act like you don’t hide at the window and watch me work out, because I know you do, so I think you know damn well that I can do whatever I please with you.”

He carries him to your shared bedroom and drops you on the bed. “Take all that off.” He says, motioning to your clothes.

As you strip, Bo takes off his jumpsuit, tossing it to the floor. He leaves his boxers on but just seeing the lingerie has got him chubbing.

“Stand up.”

You stand and he sits down, legs spread. He pulls you in by the hips so that you’re standing between them, then slides your underwear down. He puts his hand behind your knee, bringing it up enough to slip your panties off.

He brings them to his face.

“Now honey I know what your undies smell like at the end of the day, this isn’t my baby girl running errands, this smells like someone’s been soaking wet for a while. Is that right baby?”

You nod. He raises his eyebrows.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes daddy.”

“That’s right.” He swipes two fingers through your lips, purposefully grazing your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “She gets so wet for me, doesn’t she?”

He picks the bag up from where you had set it on the floor and pulls out your new underwear, see-through lace with straps to hug your hips. Low rise because everything you wear around him is, he fucking loves it.

“Step into it.” He holds them out for you to step into and then slides them up your legs, palm pushing against your crotch to secure them. You can’t help but whimper.

He grabs your ass with his other hand, fingers digging into you through the lace. “Go on sugar, grind against my hand.”

He holds eye contact as you slowly roll your hips. “That’s it, doll. Doing so good for me.”

You watch the buldge in his boxers grow, his cock straining to get out, while you rub yourself against his hand. You let out a trembled moan.

“Alright that’s enough.” He takes his hand away and fishes the garter belts out of the bag. He slides the left and then the right carefully up your legs, raising them high on each thigh.

He traces the sides of your thighs where you spill out of your stockings.

“So gorgeous.” He presses his face in between your thighs, pressing a kiss to the left then the right, just above where the garter presses into your skin.

He looks up at you and motions to your bra. “And take that off.”

It’s so vulnerable, taking off your bra while he dresses you up like his doll.

“Bein’ so good for me, such a good girl.”

He rolls the stockings up and clips them, then pulls the left side up a bit so they’re perfectly symmetrical. He nudges your hips, gently turning you around. He kisses through your lace.

“This is one hell of a present honey.”

“Do you want me to,”

“Bend over.”

You hear him rustling, taking himself out of his boxers with one hand, the other wrapped around your thigh, thumb stroking the back of your stocking.

“I’m gonna ask you a question and I need you to tell me the truth.”

You nod.

“Now when you went and picked this up you were thinking about I what I was gonna do to you in it, isn’t that right? Words, Princess.

“Yes daddy.”

“Were you thinking about me fuckin’ you, you thinkin’ about getting fucked so hard that I bruise up your insides? Or did you want it real gentle?”

“Gentle.” You whisper.

“I’m gonna ask you to do something and it’s gonna hurt, alright? But I’m asking because I know you can take it.”

You nod and he pulls your underwear to the side and chuckles. “She’s so pretty, isn’t she?” He presses a kiss over your open, soaking wet hole.

“I need you to sit down on my lap, okay baby? All the way down, can you do that for me?”

You slowly bring your hips down, one hand still holding your panties to the side, the other on your hip guiding you down

He helps like the two of you up just right and then you feel it—even taking just the tip feels like it’s going to split you open.

“Fuck, you’re doin’ so good honey, why don’t we keep it like this for a minute, let your body get used to it.”

It’s too much. Even when he’s fingers you it’s too much but this, this is so intense—he’s so thick.

“How’s that feelin’?”

“It’s a lot daddy.” You whimper.

“Just grind on my tip, you’re doing so good.” He soothes.

You lift your hips a few times, getting used to it spearing in and out of you. The head is always the trickiest to fit inside. You lower yourself down an inch and then repeat, fucking the inch in and out, letting your body open up.

“I’m ready for it daddy, it’s just scary,” you babble. “Want you to do it.”

“Aw is daddy’s dick scary?” He croons. “That’s alright. Deep breath baby.” He grabs both hips and brings you down, fucking his entire length inside.

“Oh,” You squeal. “Fuck.”

“Lay back on me, honey.” He grabs a few pillows from the head of the bed to put behind his back. He leans against them and pulls you to him, your back against his chest. He spreads your legs to hook over his.

He wraps his left arm around your chest and puts his right hand in between your thighs.

“How are you feeling baby, gotta use your words.”

“I’m so full.” You whine. He grabs your hand and intertwines it with his, then bringing them back down between your legs.

“You are. Feel that?” He leads your hand to his balls. “That’s my entire cock inside you. You’re taking all of it, such a good girl.”

It doesn’t hurt when he’s still, especially when you squeeze down on him—not hurt, more sore. It’s when he bucks his hips that you get that jolt of pain.

“Fuck, daddy.” Your voice is shaky.

“I know baby, it hurts when I’m right up against your cervix but you’re doing so good.”

He moves two fingers to your clit over the lace and fucks up into you, and when your hips move with him, his clothed fingers give you the friction you need.

You begin to slide yourself up and down on him, chasing the feeling of his fingers.

“Hurts so good daddy.”

“That’s my girl.”

The pain mixes with his pleasure and every thrust leaves you sore and aching and needing more.

“Can I cum daddy?”

“Course you can.”

You sink down as far as you can, taking every inch and pushing yourself against Bo’s hand. You move your hips back and forth, no rhythm, just the feeling of his fingers on your clit and the throbbing of his cock deep inside you.

“Fuck daddy, right there.”

You’re sure you look desperate, grinding on his cock like that, hair flying everywhere and filling the room with wet squelching noises, but you don’t care. It’s too good to care.

You squeeze down on him when you cum, gripping him tight inside you. To his credit, he really could have cum right there right then, but he had other plans and, with everything in him, restrained himself.

Once you’ve slowed down you lay back against him. His cock is still hurried is die you hit you’re too tired to try to shift it out.

He doesn’t ask anymore. He knows your mind is still floaty and fucked out. He just acts.

He lifts you off his cock and sets you down on the bed, then, with a gentle nudge to your shoulders, turns you over.

He straddles you and rests his cock between your ass cheeks, balls resting heavy on your upper thighs.

“That’s it honey, you lay there and fuckin’ take it. You let daddy cum on your pretty new panties.”

He slips his cock underneath them and presses himself against you, between your cheeks. Then you feel it, shooting out and hitting the lace then dripping into your skin.

“That’s my good girl,” He shouts. “Good girl taking daddy’s load on her ass.”

Once he’s finished he rolls you over again, knowing you’re too weak to do it yourself. He lays next to you, on his side, one arm draped over you and the other under your neck.

“Did so good for me.” He presses a kiss to your cheek.

“You messed up my panties.”

“Don’t you worry baby, I’ll buy you more. Daddy will buy you whatever you want.”

#house of wax #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #slasher x you #slasher fucker #slasher fanfiction

[etherealhozier]

Tainted tree line.

NSFW!! Hozier smut!

My amazing bsf @teag-writes inspired me to write this. Go read some of her stuff it’s so good!! Thanks for the idea pookie 🤭

_______________________________________________

CW: Praise, degrading, public sex, M4F, fingering, orgasm permission. (Let me know if I missed any!)

_______________________________________________

You’ve always enjoyed going for walks in the forest, listening to the birds sing, learning new species of plants. Nature has always been calming for you. But with Andrew, he makes it a thousand times better. He says he comes with you to ‘enjoy the surroundings’, when he’s really just watching in awe as you stroll around in that pretty little sundress of yours.

“C’mon, honey, there’s a little stream! I want to see if there’s any fish!” You say with excitement practically dripping off of your tongue as you tug on Andrew’s hand, trying to get him to walk faster.

Andrew chuckles at your obvious overwhelming happiness, shaking his head in mock disappointment as he looks at you as if he’s in awe of your existence.

“Love, look at the sky for me.” He says gently, nodding his head towards the sky, gesturing for you to look up. When you comply, you see that the sky is all cloudy and grey.

Andrew presses a few soft kisses to your jaw as your head is tilted up. You can feel his stubble brush against your neck in the process, making you have to suppress a shudder.

“It’s going to start raining any second now. We should start heading back to the house.” He explains softly, knowing that you’re going to be upset like a child being told it’s time to leave the playground. Before you can even attempt to answer back, you feel the water droplets start to hit your skin.

You both start to make your way back out of the woods, knowing you’re going to be absolutely drenched before you even get close to leaving the tree line.

Then you remember that you made the fatal mistake of not wearing a bra. In your defense, you’re wearing an strapless dress, you didn’t want your bra straps to show. So with you being braless, and wearing white, your dress is going to be practically see through as soon as it gets wet, and that’s exactly what happened.

Andrew notices almost immediately how your wet dress clings to your form like a bodysuit. Not to mention your breasts being pressed flush against the fabric, your nipples hardened into stiff peaks from the cold wind and water, leaving very little to the imagination.

Andrew lets out a soft grunt at the sight before grabbing your arm and pulling you over to a tree, pressing your back up against it. He places one hand above your head on the tree trunk to support himself, using the other to grip your chin, tilting your head up to meet his piercing gaze. You immediately feel your panties dampen from something other than the rain.

“Andrew, I-“

You’re about to protest before he cuts you off.

“If you think we’re going to walk any farther without me ruining that pretty pussy first. Then you better think again Y/N.” He growled, his voice rougher than it was just minutes ago.

Without any hesitation he clashes his lips against your own, kissing you like he’s man starved and you’re his only source of food. It’s almost enough to distract you from his hand slipping between your thighs. He pushes the crotch of your panties to the side, sliding his index finger through your slick.

“God, you’re fucking soaked, darlin’. Does it really get you off knowing I’m about to fuck you senseless in the middle of these woods where anyone could walk by and see us?”

Andrew doesn’t even need an answer. The way you grind your core against his fingers is all the answer he needs.

“Such a greedy whore. Aren’t you Y/N?”

He grunts, slipping two digits inside your heat without warning, feeling your walls tighten at the contact.

“God, honey, please…”

You moan out, gasping as you feel him hit that sweet spot inside you. That familiar feeling in your stomach starts to build, spreading through the rest of your body. Andrew smirks condescendingly as he feels your legs start to tremble, you’re visibly struggling to hold yourself up.

Your head falls back against the tree as your desperate moans fill the forest air. Andrew takes notice of your climax building. He gasps mockingly.

“You gonna come for me, pretty girl? Go ahead, I wanna watch you come on my fingers, honey. That’s a good girl.”

He says with a smirk, hitting your g-spot consistently in a back arching rhythm. He watches your reactions with an awestruck look in his eyes.

That’s all it took for you to crumble completely. You come undone with a pathetically desperate cry, squeezing your eyes shut as the rush echoes throughout your body. Your legs start to give out so Andrew wraps his free hand around your waist, holding you up against the tree as he works you through your orgasm.

Andrew collects your arousal on his fingers before pulling them away from your throbbing heat. He removes his hand from your waist to gently grab your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Your eyes are glazed over with exhaustion and lust.

“Open your mouth for me, my love.”

He says gently before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You comply almost immediately, lazily opening your mouth for him. Without warning, Andrew slips his arousal covered fingers into your mouth, watching as you lick it off his digits. You can’t help but hum in approval as you taste the sweetness of your own liquid.

“I love you.”

You mutter exhaustedly as you stare up at him with those love-filled doe eyes.

“I love you too. Now let’s get you home so I can clean you up, my goddess.”

He presses gentle kisses across your forehead to your cheeks. He picks you up bridal style, knowing you won’t be able to walk for at least an hour after this.

Andrew carries you home while you ramble about how much you adore him, occasionally trailing kisses up and down his neck. You can’t wait to get home and spend the rest of the day cuddling.

This was the first, but definitely not the last time you do this. And you can’t wait to do it again.

_______________________________________________

Writers note:

Hiiii! Thank you for reading my work! This is the first smut/fanfic I’ve ever written, so it may not be perfect but I think it’s decent. I hope you think so too! Again, thank you for reading! <3

#etherealhozier #hozier #hozier smut #smut #fanfic #hozier fandom #i dont know how to tag this #This is giving it will come back vibes

[starlightshadowsworld]

Me and the Devil (Walking side by side)

Or the Cannabalism arc gets resolved by Atsushi making a deal with the Demon.

Atsushi knows that he shouldn't be here. Kunikida would lose his mind if he knew. No matter how he could try to spin it, this was the most reckless and impulsive move Atsushi had ever made.

Which said a lot considering he met Dazai by fishing him out of the lake on the brink of starvation.

But Kunikida didn't know he was here. No one in the Agency did, maybe Ranpo would've figured it out if his mind wasn't on more pressing matters.

Atsushi wonders if Ranpo would've stopped him, had he known his plan. Maybe Ranpo already knew, and had simply let him go without another word.

Atsushi doubts it but one could never know with Ranpo Edgoawa. It wasn't as if it mattered, Ranpo was off with the others on their personal mission.

Atsushi was supposed to be with Kunikida, investigating a lead. He'd have to apologise to Kunikida later for not showing up.

That is, if there was a later. At least Atsushi wasn't wearing his Agency uniform, at least he wouldn't be ruining their image.

"I must say, I am quite suprised to see you in here." Says Fyodor, taking a sip of tea as Atsushi stands by his table.

He looks the picture of relaxed and somewhere deep down Atsushi wants to punch him.

Fukuzawa was dying. Without him the Agency will fall apart. Atsushi has never seen Ranpo so serious, so distraught.

No one has.

Kunikida is trying his best to keep it together. But like the rest of them, he was falling into despair.

Mori was dying.

Without him the Port Mafia will return to its more visceral and brutal ways. Atsushi knows little about those days, but knows it would destroy Yokohama.

If Mori or Fukuzawa is killed by the other organisation, it will result in all out war.

This is what Fyodor wants. And here he is, sat in a cosy cafe. Listening to music and drinking tea while ruining everything.

Atsushi feels sick just looking at the man. But he doesn't punch him, he doesn't yell or scream. Atsushi has come here for a reason.

To bargain.

"I'm not here to fight you. I came to talk." Says Atsushi, keeping his voice light like everything was fine. Fyodor hums, clearly intrigued by this new development in his plans.

He puts his tea down and gestures for Atsushi to take a seat.

"Than talk, would you like some tea?" Atsushi sits down, ordering for himself and let's the tea cup warm his hands.

"Shibusawa told me that you're the one who sent him to me. He said I had the ability to save him, to save countless." Atsushi looks up from staring into his tea. "He wasn't just talking about my ability, was he?"

The intrigue in Fyodor's eyes only grows but he remains as casual as ever. "He wasn't. But that's not what you want to ask me, is it?"

Atsushi takes a sip of his tea, slow and deliberate. He makes a show of looking around, as if making sure no one he knew was here.

"What would you do if you had the book?"

Fyodor's easy going smile turns viscious. There's a glint in his eye that shines dangerously. It reminds Atsushi, if he ever forgot just who he was speaking too.

Atsushi knows Fyodor could have him killed at any moment. The hospital said had the sniper aimed any higher, Dazai would've been killed instantly.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky is a dangerous man. And yet Atsushi is not afraid.

Not of him.

Atsushi's afraid of losing his friends... his family. The Agency is their home, and Atsushi won't let them lose it.

"And why, do you wish to know that?"

Atsushi shrugs, leaning back in his chair and adopting a carefree air. Something he's seen Ranpo and Dazai do countless times.

Never say they didn't teach him anything.

"Im the guide, aren't I? If I'm going go be coerced into finding it, I want to at least gain something from it. Don't you think?"

He takes a sip of tea as hums, thoughtful. "Fitzgerald wants to bring his dead daughter back to life for his wife. Which is noble and all, but it doesn't exactly do much for me. I have no one I want to bring back. So I'm asking Dostoyevsky, what it is you want with it?"

There's a silence before Fyodor laughs.

Atsushi says nothing, he gives nothing away even if inside he's a little panicked.

"My my, you really are something aren't you? Shibusawa didn't tell me just how ferocious you truly are." Fyodor shakes his head, amused. He rests his elbows on the table, his chin ontop of his palms and leans forward.

"I want to rid the world of all special abilities."

He says it so plain, so casual as if it meant nothing but Atsushi knows it means everything.

This is what Fyodor wants more than anything.

Atsushi mirrors his position, resting his chin atop his palms and leans in. "Now that, that I can work with."

Fyodor tilts his head to the side and smirks.

"Oh?"

Atsushi chuckles. "I grew up in a cage. I spent every waking moment of my life reminded that I was a beast of calamity. That all I did was bring misfortune onto others. My ability has taken everything from me. It has ripped out my humanity and turned me into a monster. It's not a gift, it's a curse. Why would I ever choose to keep it?"

Fyodor studies him before nodding approvingly. He sits back and Atsushi does the same. "It's rare I meet someone who shares my ideals in such a manner. And I wouldn't let such an opportunity go to waste."

He takes out his phone.

"But nothing is free in this world. What do you want in return?" They both know already but Atsushi doesn't comment on it.

He sits up straighter and looks Fyodor in the eye, unwavering. "I want Fukuzawa Yukichi of the Armed Detective Agency and Mori Ougai of the Port Mafia to be cured of the Cannabalism ability."

Fyodor chuckles "is that all?" He teases before becoming serious. "Very well, I agree to your terms. I trust no one knows you're here."

Atsushi nods, he even turns out his pockets to show that their empty. His phone, Agency badge and uniform are stashed in a bin somewhere.

Much like when he left the Orphanage, Atsushi came with only the clothes on his back. He left no note, he couldn't give them any clues.

"Very well. I accept your terms, Atsushi Nakajima." Says Fyodor, extending a hand to him.

This was it.

The moment Atsushi stepped foot into this cafe, he knew he might as well be signing his own death certificate.

But it doesn't matter to him.

There was no way Fyodor was ever going to get the book. He could torture him, starve him, drown him, whatever he wanted to break Atsushi into complying.

Atsushi would not budge. It was nothing he hadn't had dealt to him before. He hadn't been lying about his ability being a curse.

He was dooming himself to a life of isolation and agony. Walking back into his cage and handing over the keys to his tormentor.

Never to know freedom or love again. It was Atsushi's worst fear. What he dreaded more than anything. But this was for the Agency, and for them Atsushi would give up everything.

Atsushi was nothing compared to them. He bought misfortune onto others and pretended he was human when he was anything but.

He was a monster. He would only bring them pain and suffering. But now he could atone for everything he'd done.

None of this would be happened if Atsushi hadn't gone to Yokohama. If he hadn't joined the Agency, none of this would be happening.

He'd deluded himself into thinking he deserved a place to belong. And now they were suffering from it.

This, this was Atsushi's karma. This was the price of his mistakes. For ever thinking he could ever belong in the light when he was born into darkness.

He was abandoned by the world. He was abdoned by his parents and no one had ever wanted him. The Orphanage had been right about him, the Headmaster had been right about him.

But now he could fix it all. The Agency and the Port Mafia would be saved. There would be no more suffering caused by him. The book would never be found and no one would be hurt trying to pursue it again.

Everyone would be okay. So what if it cost Atsushi everything?

"Than we have a deal." Says Atsushi, shaking Fyodor's hand.

(Sequel, You don't know what I'd do (for you) Part 1

#Bsd cannabalism #atsushi nakajima #bsd fyodor #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bsd atsushi #bungou stray dogs #bsd #angst #Me and the Devil (Walking side by side)

[gabessquishytum]

I think not enough people have come to talk to you about chubby Hob. So I am here to push the chubby!Hob agenda!!

Human au maybe, where Hob has a long and storied past. He was homeless for a bit, he was food insecure for longer. And now that he's settled and secure in a decent flat with a good job (maybe this is an au where he's the chef at the New Inn?) He has to keep his pantry full. And he always cleans his plate. No leftovers in this house. He was intense about it for a while and it was maybe hoarding and binging, but he's got it mostly under control now. He just likes to know he won't go hungry. The side effect of this is he's put on some weight. He's got a belly, his thighs and arms are thick. He's honestly pretty happy with it, since it's more proof he isn't starving anymore.

Enter Dream. Dream is depressed and introverted at the best of times. But he's just gotten out of an abusive workplace that had him so anxious he wasn't eating and hes... kind of forgotten food can be enjoyable. Death takes him to the New Inn to get him out more, to coax him into trying something new. Dream orders the safest sounding thing on the menu. Something simple. And when it comes out it smells amazing, and when Dream picks off the tiniest bite to try it, it's incredible. He's ruined for this dish from anywhere else. Death watches him eat an entire plate of food for the first time in months and insists the chef come out so they can thank him personally.

And Hob and Dream lock eyes and sparks fly. Dream comes back and orders the same dish every day for lunch for 2 weeks until one day Hob sends out the usual and an extra side. The waiter hands him a napkin from Hob to go with the side that has "trust me" written on it in sharpie. And that's how Dream starts trying more things on the menu. Until one day Dream asks the waiter what dish he's been given to try today and the waiter says it isn't on the menu. They'll go ask Hob about it. Hob comes out and says it's an exclusive that Dream will only see again if he let's Hob take him on a date and cook him dinner personally.

🍰🐲

I see the words Chubby Hob, I light up like a christmas tree.

I love the idea of Hob being the new inn's chef, that feels so perfect! I bet he would find a lot of comfort in having this kitchen which is just as well stocked as his own kitchen upstairs, full of ingredients, and he can cook all day and make himself snacks and little meals during the quiet spots in the day, and also snacks for all the staff members. It soothes the part of his brain that is still cold and scared. And he doesn't mind that he'll always have a bit of a thing about food, because he's safe now. He can eat nice things and buy new jeans when he needs a size up. It's all good.

And when he sees Dream, he implicitly wants to make everything ok for him. And make food for him. Hot pies, lasagna, fish and chips. He just wants Dream to feel warm and safe, like Hob does now! It's not like he can fix everything, but maybe he can give Dream a little bit of hope?

Ultimately it doesn't take much to convince Dream to shyly head up the stairs to Hob’s flat, and sit at the kitchen table in the warm lamplight while Hob cooks dinner for them both. Hob even baked biscuits for Dream to nibble while he waits. Maybe while he's exploring the flat Dream finds a few pictures of a hollow cheeked, painfully thin looking Hob, and everything starts to make sense.

They have a little cuddle on the sofa after dinner, and Dream gets to curl up against Hob’s warm soft belly. He feels very safe there, with Hob’s arms wrapped around him. He likes the way Hob is padded and squishy with no hard edges, and Dream can just sink into him. Neither of them are really thinking about sex but much later, Dream will definitely fantasise about grabbing that soft belly, maybe rutting against it, maybe biting it.....

And maybe he'll get a little healthy meat on his bones too. Dream definitely wouldn't be mad about it if the results of all Hob’s good food start to show on his body. In fact, he might be a bit proud.

#🍰🐲 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw food #cw food issues #cw weight

[katherinezeetajones]

Facade

Diane the psychologist pays the station a visit, and is amused to find how frustrating of a client you are… and Andy knew there’s something more to you than meets the eye.

Andy Herrera x female reader | mentions of abuse, trauma, reader is an emotional brick wall who tries to improve

Prev. Parts: one two three four five (but you can read them all separately!)

—

“so, you’re the one they call new girl around here,” Diane regards you, sitting across you in the captain’s office that Maya offered to be Diane’s temporary office for the day.

You sigh, and nod at the sentiment. “I’ve been in 19 for almost ten months,”

Diane nods. “but you’ve been a firefighter for… how long?”

“a little over a decade,” you shrug, uneasy at the situation currently happening to you. You’ve always hated therapy—everything that comes with it, too. The sessions, the patronizing tone the therapists use as they talk to you… and the requirement of telling them your life’s story!

Diane nods, yet again. “Not a fan of the nickname?”

“Look, can we just cut the small talk? Can we just get to the point?” You don’t want to show it, but you’re getting slightly agitated. A FD-mandated therapy session is bad enough as it is, but now this brand new therapist wants to make small talk… of all things? Please.

She fixes you a look, and smiles thinly. “I get it, you don’t want to be here any more than you need to be. But I’m here if you want to talk,”

“I don’t want to talk. We’re wasting time here, when we could be saving lives out there,” you sigh, shaking your head, your feet tapping against the foot of the chair you’re sitting on, quite impatiently. “...respectfully, doctor Lewis.”

She regards you, not showing any expressions in her face. But you can tell that she’s picking your every word apart, and it’s driving you mad. “tell me, then—what did you think of today’s call?”

“we did our job. Saved the lives of the kids, and put the asshole responsible for setting the house on fire behind bars,”

“Even if that asshole is the kids’ foster mother?” Diane asks.

You crease your eyebrows, trying to cool your jets. “we didn’t treat her any different. We treated her burns, sent her away with appropriately dressed gauze,”

“that’s not what I’m asking,” Diane shakes her head, leaning forward on the table, regarding you. “Do you think what she did is wrong? Should she be left for dead instead?”

“What kind of question is that?” You find yourself irritated.

“Captain Bishop informed me that... you lost your cool, that you wanted to just let her die in the ruins of the house, knowing the structure of the house is compromised,”

you shift in your seat, feeling your face hardening into a fuming mess. “Yet she lives.”

“if you think like that of a patient, you know…”

“…you don’t belong on the rig,” you finished her sentence, sighing in silent frustration.

Diane nods. “See, I don’t believe you are a bad person,” she stands up off her chair, closing the blinds in the office. She turns back to you. “so that call must be personal.”

you feel your nerves tensing. You sit back, trying to appear calm and composed as you can. “how do you figure?”

“you’re not close with your mother?” Diane asks, earning a small scoff from you.

“I’m… as close with their parents as anyone else could be,” you explain as you scoff, trying to steer the direction of the talk someplace else.

“that’s not the response I’m looking for,”

“what do you want me to say?” You furrow your brows. “that my mom beat me as a child and I never told anyone? That seeing those kids today reminded me of my own childhood?”

“does it?” Diane asks. “does it remind you of your childhood?” She rifles through her bag, fishing out a dossier. “because I read your file. Says you grew up in the foster system, jumped households around 15 times. So you’re not talking about your adoptive parents,”

You close your eyes with a sigh, not knowing how to escape from this conversation. “…I’m a grown woman,” you mutter. “I don’t dwell on the past,”

“...and yet, you showed everyone today a glimpse of your past. And I don’t think they know who you actually are,”

“is that such a bad thing?” You argue. “nobody wants to know anyone that deeply—flaws and all,”

Diane fixes you a look, and nods to herself. She sits back down across you, steepling her hands together. “okay. And why do you think that?”

You crease your eyebrows, confused. “that’s just how it is, isn’t it? Everybody wants somebody around, if that someone is fun to be with. Nobody wants to be with somebody with a baggage,”

She shakes her head. “…look, that’s not the healthiest way to be looking into relationships in your life,”

“worked for me,” you shrug, leaning back on the chair.

“does it, though?” She asks, skeptically narrowing her eyes, ever so slightly. “because that’s not really healthy if you’re looking to form long term relationships—one that I assume you’re having right now?”

Your eyes widen, ever so slightly. “who told you that—”

“nobody, I assumed and you confirmed it,” Diane let a small amused smile sit on her lips. “Is that really fair to whom you’re seeing right now?”

You sigh. ‘Oh, you’re a clever one!’ You think to yourself. “that’s, how did we even get to this point? Let’s circle back to the whole childhood trauma thing again,”

“if you want,” Diane shrugs. “but I get the feeling that I’ve hit a sore spot, and you’re gonna have to address that,”

you sigh, irritatedly. “she doesn’t need all that baggage,”

“so it’s Herrera,” Diane nods to herself.

“whoa,” you raise your eyebrows, miffed. “I don’t remember giving you a name,”

“didn’t have to,” she shrugs. “Bishop is in a relationship—Hughes is not your type, so… that leaves Herrera,”

“perks of being in a male-dominated field,” you laugh mirthlessly, giving Diane a ‘you caught me’ look, because you know you’ve lost. "Not a lot of women around us,"

“and you resort to humor when cornered,” Diane notes.

“I can’t fucking win here,” you joke some more. ‘That’ll show her.’

Diane isn't amused. "You wanna know how I know it's Herrera?"

"please," you nod, hopeless.

She nods. "You make it your hardest job to avoid looking her in the eye in front of everyone,"

"...that doesn't matter," you argue. "Most people at the station already knew about us,"

"so why do you avoid eye contact?"

You have to think on that. "Because..." You start a sentence...

And you can't say it out loud.

Diane nods. "Exactly," she mutters, resolute. "Because if you make eye contact at Herrera with everyone around, it'll make your relationship feel real, it exists—outside of your little world; and then you're gonna have to deal with the fact that, yes; you have baggage, and Herrera deserves to know."

You give her a look of disbelief. 'first of all, how dare you... Correctly and accurately analyzed... And put into words what I've been feeling my whole life, I will not stand for this—'

...is what you thought to yourself. The words that actually came out of your mouth are "...you got me,"

And you add a little chuckle at the end of your sentiment, trying to make it lighthearted.

Diane doesn't buy it. Neither do you.

"if Herrera means as much as I think she means to you, then be honest with her."

You shift in your seat, uncomfortable. "That might break our relationship,"

"what if it doesn't?"

—

After what feels like forever, you finally got yourself out of that torture chamber people call counseling session. You walk to the barn, picking up the duffel bag you left before going into Diane's session of doom earlier.

You pick it up, and Andy is right in front of you, hands in her pockets.

"Andy," you regard her, trying to put on a small smile for her. "Aren't you going home?"

Andy is quiet, then she sits on the back of an open aid car, patting the empty spot next to her as she looks at you.

Sighing, you sit as she asked.

"rookie," she said softly, yet it doesn't feel warm enough. She turns to you. "I know... That you're not this silly goofy troublemaker girl that you want to come off as,"

You sigh. "If it's about the call earlier, look—"

She stops you, squeezing your shoulder to calm you. "It's not just that... Look, we... We started off as a casual hookup, right? And then we just... Went for it, hit a couple of snags... But we're doing great,"

You nod, not liking where this is going. "Okay..."

Andy looks at you, eyes full of emotions. "But rookie, your eyes hide an ocean of sadness, that you really don't share with anyone,"

"nobody needs that," you said as a matter-of-factly.

Andy shakes her head, pursing her lips. "No, rookie, that's the thing. I... want to know the real you, the actual you, not the fake version of you that you parade around to the world," she said softly, as she takes your hand in hers. "I promise, I'm strong enough,"

You laugh dryly, unable to meet her eyes. "I thought you agreed to fuck me that night we first met because of my whimsy,"

Andy sighs, rolling her eyes. "You were there for me when I needed someone to cry to, I want to be there for you. So let me in,"

You find it hard to fib your way out of this one. "I..."

Andy doesn't let you come up with another excuse. She plants her lips on yours, slow and sweet. She caressed your cheek with her hand, softly cradling it.

She pulls back, but keeps your foreheads pressed together. "Show me the real you, rookie. I want all of it. Today's call just proves to me that I don't know enough about you, and that needs to change,"

You chuckle softly. "I... Yes, okay,"

"yeah?"

"yeah," you reassure her, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

Her warmth reaches the inside of your soul. You really didn't stand a chance against falling for Andy Herrera. Not today, not the day you met ten months ago.

"let's go home, I'll drive you," you offer as you part from her embrace. Andy nods, and you make your way to your car, the future of your relationship on the path ahead of you.

—

Tagging @geekyandgay98 @unexpected-character

#station 19 #station 19 x reader #andy herrera x reader #andy herrera #andy herrera x you #andy herrera x female reader #wlw imagine

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

Will there be a pt. 2 to “Watch My Heart Burn” I’m living for the angst 🥺

WATCH MY HEART BURN PT 2. ( Wednesday x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Yes there will be! <3 pairing: Tyler Galpin x Fem! Reader, Wednesday Addams x Tyler Galpin prompt: based on ‘Watch’ by Billie Eilish key: h/c = hair color, e/c = eye color, f/n = father’s name, b/n = brother’s name, Kent & Divina = Bianca’s Siren buddies word count : 800+ words

When you call my name, do you think I'll come runnin'?

The sadness had melted away quickly, leaving only an icy bitterness. Her brother’s words ringing in her head, ‘Tyler’s just another dick normie’. He was right, Tyler was one. He wasn’t a friend after all. He was just another dick normie who liked to fuck with ‘freaks’ like her. 

Blinking away her thoughts, she tightens her grip on Divina’s arm, trying not to show too much of her discomfort. Even though she wanted to avoid Tyler like he was the plague, she couldn’t. It was a small town⎯with one coffee shop, and quite frankly, she needed coffee to function. 

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Divina asks, a unsure look on her face.

“Yeah, if he’s there then it’s a shame. But, I’m pretty sure that Xavier is working there today.” She argues, “Maybe, I’ll get Xavier at the cash register. Maybe, I won’t have to deal with him.”  

“Let’s hope. But, seriously. If it’s too soon or too much, don’t force yourself. I’m not gonna make you stick around.” Divina reminds, making her hum.

“I can’t avoid him forever⎯unfortunately⎯But, I need to prove that a normie like him has no control over me.” Y/n explains, “I’m going. I’m going to order my coffee. And I’m going to give him the cold shoulder. Plain and simple.” 

Walking inside the cafe, the smell of fresh coffee fills her senses, along with the light tang of chocolate croissants that lingered in the air. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she keeps her head up high, her eyes locked on the menu. Today was a new day. She now knew his true colors. 

So, why did she have to be the bigger person? Why couldn’t she be a little petty? A little bitter? Walking up to the counter, Divina nudges her side, a warning look on her face. One that says, ‘Please, don’t say or do anything mean. We don’t want him ruining our drinks.’ 

“Hey, Y/n! How you’ve been⎯” He asks, flashing her a big smile.

“I’ll have a coffee, two sugars and one pump of vanilla creamer.” She cuts in coldly, “I’ll have it in a to-go cup, name is Y/n. Thanks.” 

“I⎯um⎯Okay? I⎯ah⎯I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” He asks, stuttering.

“How much will that be?” She asks, ignoring him.

“Three dollars, but seriously what’s up? Did I do something wrong or..?” 

Yes, there was something wrong. But, clearly it wasn’t ‘important’ enough to stick in his mind. Fishing out a five dollar bill out of her pocket, she drops the bill on the counter, refusing to get even an inch closer to him than she already was. Letting go of Divina’s arm, she whispers about ‘seeing her at the table’, turning her nose up. She breaks eye contact with him. Her eyes darted to the free table at the entrance of the cafe. 

“Keep the change.” She grunts over her shoulder. 

You never did the same..

Letting out a small snort at his shitty joke, she flips a strand of hair over her shoulder, her cheeks flushing a bright red. Even though she wasn’t as well acquainted with Kent as she was with Divina. She’d admit that she was really enjoying his company. 

Feeling eyes drill into the side of her head, she shifts her eyes from Kent to the busying cafe, seeing Xavier staring at her. She sends him a friendly small wave and smile, earning one back from him. Turning her eyes back to Kent, there's a slight flush to his cheeks from how hard he had been laughing. 

“So what are you going to do this winter?” He questions, taking a sip of his coffee. 

“Oh, B/n and I are going with Dad to our grandparents. Mom should be back a few days before Christmas, along with our Aunts and Uncles.” She explains, making him hum. 

“That’s cool! We’re traveling upstream to visit Mom’s salt water relatives.” He explains, “Are you at least excited for your grandparents?” 

“Yeah, I just can’t wait to hear, ‘F/n, how’s the wife doing? Oh, she’s in Romania? Guess, you’re stuck babysitting?’. So much fun.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes. 

“Could be worse! Divina and I have to deal with, ‘Oh, you really let your scales get that bad?’ and ‘Well that’s a choice?’. It’s the worst I tell you!” He rants, “Don’t get me started on the looks that they send our ways.”

Cringing at the sound of his family reunion, she knew that her family reunions were horrid, but that just sounded a thousand times worse! Her family were seers and that was dreadful enough. They’d rant and critique their choices, saying how it ‘changed their fate for the worst’. But a house full of Siren’s? No thanks. 

Offering him an apologetic smile, he waves off her smile with a shake of his head. Opening her mouth to speak, she’s cut off by Tyler approaching their table, a stern look on his face. Nope. Nope. Nope. She was not going to deal with this. She wasn’t about to let him try to make up an excuse for his behavior. 

“Can we talk?” He asks, making her scoff.

“No.” She grunts out, bluntly.

“Great⎯Wait what?” He asks, a shocked look on his face.

“I said, no. I have nothing to say to you.” She argues, “So please leave us alone. We’re having a private conversation.” 

Opening his mouth to argue, she raises a hand, glaring daggers at him. She was not about to deal with this. She made the mistake of being friends with him. But, now she has learned a lesson. He was not to be trusted. Looking over at Kent, he’s glaring daggers at Tyler, relief fills her at the sight. She’d thought he’d think she was too much. Or taking things too far. But, it was nice to know that he was on her side in this situation. It was refreshing.

“But⎯” He tries, but she cuts him off. 

“We’re not friends. This is incredibly inappropriate.” She argues, “Now, like I said. Can you please leave me alone?” 

“Y/n..” 

“No, you hurt me Tyler and I’m not going to listen to any excuses. I’m moving on and I don’t see you⎯nor do I want you in my life anymore. So, like I said, leave me alone.” She argues, her voice icy and stern.

So good at givin' me nothin'..

#wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday x reader #wednesday x xavier #xavier thrope x reader #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe #xavier thrope fanfic #tyler galpin imagines #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin #wednesday x tyler #ajax petropolus #gomez and morticia #gomez addams #morticia addams #enid sinclair #netlflix #gomez addams x reader #kent x reader #kent the siren

[mushies-stories]

To sweet

honestly just a fluff of Denji trying to be a boyfriend for the first time to a kind of overly 'sweet' reader.

warnings: none really, female reader, swearing, like... once?

word count: 1113

Denji really was a great boyfriend. He always shared his food and snacks with you, He was caring and sweet and was always nice to you. However, that doesn't mean he’s perfect. Other than his hunt for the gun devil and most of your ‘together’ time being spent at Aki’s apartment with Power, you were also his first girlfriend. He’s never done the dating thing before but he wanted to show you that he could do things boyfriends normally do. He wanted to show you he knew how to really be your boyfriend. So he decided today he was taking you out. Whatever it takes to show you what a great and loving boyfriend he is. 

To start the day Denji had brought you flowers that he clearly picked from houses along the way. You didnt live that far from Aki’s apartment so the journey didn’t really give him time to make a whole bouquet but it had one of every flower he must have passed so it really was a cute little bouquet of different flowers. 

With a small smile Denji held the gift out for you. “Ready?” he asked.

You took the flowers and smiled at how cute he was. “Yep! Where too?” you asked after setting the flowers down inside. 

A wide grin spread across Denji’s face. “An amusement park!” he says with excitement. 

Denji’s plan was to go on a few rides, win you a big ass stuffed animal then get one of your sweet kisses, The plan was perfect. That was until he actually entered the amusement park. As soon as his eyes saw the roller coasters he grabbed your hand and pulled right to the biggest one. “C’mon Y/N! Let’s ride that one!” You couldn't help but laugh at how excited he was, he was like a little kid. 

It was Denji on the ferris wheel that had gotten you both kicked out of the park. Instead of doing something normal like kissing you he was busy looking over the edge and trying to see if he could spit on some poor soul's head. After a few good shots and the rest of the way down you were asked to leave the park and After Denji tried basically fighting a guard you ended up banned. 

“Well i fucked that up big time.” Denji pouted. He was thinking of something else, how can he make up for that mess? “Hey, do you like fish?” he asks, looking at you with a blank face. 

You tilted your head to the side with one raised brow. “Fish?” you questioned. 

That bright smile was back on Denji’s face. “Fish.” He nods.

The aquarium was what he ment. All the fun colored fish swimming around and so many different sea creatures. Sea horses? Denji thinks they are ugly as hell but super cool. He was so immersed in the fish passing by and wanting to follow them that he often knocked over kids without noticing. You had a hard time keeping up with him as he ran from one tank to the other. 

It didn't take long for the staff to ask you two to leave, this time Denji took it better and you weren't banned but he was still super bummed that he got you kicked out of another place. He just wasn't used to all of these new things. He didn’t have the money to go to an amusement park or an aquarium growing up after all. 

Denji let out a defeated sigh. “I'm sorry, I ruined the aquarium too.”  He gave you a sad smile. 

You shook your head. “It’s okay! Really Denji, you just don’t always have great spatial awareness when you're in public.” you reason with him, taking his hand in yours you learn head on his shoulder.

He didn’t want to leave the day on like that though, with being kicked out two places? Hell no, some place where he can’t make any problems. 

A movie was the simplest answer. You sit in one spot for an hour or so and don't get up. You could share snacks and a drink, he would throw his arm over your shoulders and your head would lay on his. 

With some cheesy romance, a large popcorn and a drink with two bendy straws you sat right in the middle of a pretty packed theater. Everything was going perfectly fine, Denji was mostly just giggling at some of the things the leads would say or do. When the cheesy romance got worse so did Denji’s laugh, then he started straight out trashing the movie, causing everyone around you to shush him. With a half hour still left, you were asked to leave the theater. 

That was it Denji thought, you would never talk to him again. There was no way you didn’t think he was a total loser now. He walked you home in silence, unable to even apologize out of embarrassment by now. Once you reached your front door he hung his head down and stared at his shoes, waiting for you to go inside and shut the door on him. He wouldn't even blame you. 

After a moment he noticed you haven't even moved from your spot in front of him. He slowly raised his eyes to meet yours. You had a gentle smile on your face and soft eyes looked into his sad ones. “Don't I get a kiss goodnight? ” you asked with a light tease. 

Denji stared at you in disbelief, you didn't hate him? “You mean you don’t hate me? After everything today you'd still want to kiss me?” he asked, still not fully believing you.

You took a small step closer, causing Denji to straighten up a bit and look down at you. “Denji i'm just so happy you tried today. I had fun even though we got kicked out because I got to see you happy.” you confessed, a blush creeping its way onto your cheeks. 

“Y/N” Denji didn’t know what to say. His heart was pounding, you were just too sweet, too perfect. One moment he was staring at you with pure affection and the next you were getting closer, leaning up on your toes and kissing him. Your soft lips were a dream and you tasted like cherries too. Yeah you’ve done plenty before but being near you always makes him feel so warm and happy. 

When you pulled away Denji had a dopey smile. “Thank you for today, Denji.” you say and pull him into a hug. Arms around his middle as he slid his around your shoulders, holding you tight and kissed the top of your head.

#chainsaw man imagine #chainsaw man x reader #denji x reader #denji imagines #chainsaw man #denji

[kerubimcrepin]

Episode 34 - Heads for no Tails (part 2)

TW: child neglect & parentification discussions, hardcore to the mega level compared to the usual. I don't know if this warrants a warning, but yeah.

He is never beating those second tea straw drinker from the ova allegations.

Obligatory Pointing Out Food Moment not pictured, because I am already flying close to the sun with the image limit: Cereal.

His second fear after "not being able to eat without help" is not being able to fish, and that scares him more. He is so real for that.

In this situation, my first concern would be no longer being able to do gaming, personally.

He is so "single mom with an undiagnosed anxiety disorder" coded that it makes me want to do unspeakable evils upon him.

Joris's ass is NOT being calmed or soothed.

I guess he managed to get afterwards anyway, even after Indie bribed that one wizard.

Guy who likes to learn about french culture: [Nodding] oh so you can drink coffee at night both from a bowl and from a cup.

Finally he understands just how bad things are. And it breaks him.

I think, one of the most infuriating things one can experience as a child, is being in a bad situation while everyone else is pretending that you aren't.

It's obvious that adults are pretending, but it feels less like they do it to keep you calm, and more like they're trying to keep themselves calm, by denying what is happening to you.

And that's sad. He probably feels like, despite being the one in danger, he must pretend not to be scared, so that the adults in his life don't completely fall apart on him. Not only is he in mortal fucking danger, he has to be their Emotional Support Joris.

Joris must be... fed up with this. Just a little bit.

Despite how bad things are, he's comforted by this.

But then Kerubim ruins it, by forgetting how things are, for a second.

And instead of, y'know, bending down to hug him, he awkwardly leaves him hugless after, yet again, denying the gravity of the situation, and jokingly blaming Joris.

This episode is madness inducing to me in all the following moments. The way Joris's expression shifts immediately after Kerubim leaves? He's not stupid. He knows things are bad. He knows Kerubim knows, and that he's just pretending. And obviously... that's a bit annoying.

The fact that the one person he can talk to about this is his pet is even more heartbreaking to me.

BEST moment of the series. If Kerubim says stuff like that more often, I'll be kissing him and swooning and stuff.

I already pointed this out previously, but the inn he received the restraint in, is in Astrub, and has been shown before. I won't add a screenshot due to the image limit, and some heavy stuff coming in, but now you know that.

Also, he's drinking bamboo milk in said inn. Very committed to that milk alcoholism, he.

While Kerubim left him, Joris doesn't seem to have made even an attempt at sleeping. He's just been... staring at the ceiling. God.

I will be insane here, for a second, and ask a question: Do you all think that Joris is genuinely happy to see him, hoping that he's brought good news, or is Joris putting on a brave face? Because personally, I like both interpretations.

It was an awfully quick switch between "staring lifelessly at the ceiling" and "hiiiii papycha :))))" which is why I had this thought.

From one extreme to another... While denying that something bad is happening was a bad move, I think it could have been more beneficial to ease him into it with a "this is bad, but we'll keep trying to free you."

Then again. I suppose Kerubim would feel guilty, if he thought he was giving Joris more false hopes after acting irrationally cheery all day.

There's something very specifically tragic about this, because protecting Joris has always been his mission, even if he has failed at it repeatedly. Let me remind you:

Kerubim is an orphan. Empathising and seeing himself in little, helpless, parentless things is kind of his thing. And so is wanting to protect them.

Besides projection, and knowing how bad this could turn out from personal experience, I think Kerubim adopted Joris due to guilt.

We know that, for ten years, he was under the impression that he killed Julith. Even if he thought Julith was going to destroy Bonta — being an orphan himself made this memory something very personal, and very haunting: He was now guilty of doing the exact thing that ruined his and Atcham's early life to a newborn baby. He held him in his arms, either shortly before, or immediately after, killing his mother.

Obviously, he would want to shelter him. To somehow make up for the harm he did.

Besides that, Atcham has been put forth as a foil for Joris, and a sort of reflection for his relationship with Kerubim.

Joris is weird looking, so is Atcham, but Joris tries really hard not to feel like it's a flaw. It would make sense for Kerubim to have tried to change himself and cultivate a very accepting environment, to protect Joris from whatever Atcham went through.

It was always about protecting Joris to him.

He probably knows he's been bad at it, even if he won't say that out loud.

He's just human, parenting is hard, and he had a sad, sad life. Even if it made things worse for the two of them, and even if I make fun of him a lot in these blogs, it's realistic and tragic. Being bad at this, and sometimes just utterly failing Joris, doesn't make him a bad person. That's just how life is.

...And considering the way Kerubim and Atcham themselves turned out in an orphanage, — chances are, Joris was still better off growing up like this, than growing up without a home at all.

So how sad it is, that not only has he seemingly failed as a parent, but also, failed at the exact thing he became a parent for?

I think it's just as tragic that all Joris can manage, despite being the one whose life Kerubim essentially ruined by his negligence, is to push down whatever he is feeling, and be the brave one to try and comfort him.

...It's probably the first time he's seen Kerubim this openly distraught. Obviously, he'd want to comfort him.

All of this to say: I love them, and their uneven, realistically mentally ill single parent-single child bond. And if something profoundly bad happens to them in Wakfu season 4, I will kill everyone in this room, and then myself. (I say this, despite them being alive and well in Waven. Which happens after season 4. I'm insane.)

#ep34 #ro liveblogs dofus #dofus #wakfu #krosmoz #joris jurgen #kerubim crepin

[numinousmysteries]

Dancing the Tandava (7/10)

[on Ao3] @today-in-fic

Washington, DC 1993

Since William has no identification, money, or place of residence in 1993, Mulder lets him stay at his apartment while they figure out what to do next. As he accompanies his parents on the drive to the airport and the shuttle flight from New York back to DC, he’s tickled by how different they were years before he was born. He only knows them as his happily married, domesticated parents, not these young FBI agents who barely know each other.

Even though they aren’t together together yet, he can see the sparks flying between them. It oddly reminds him of his relationship with Hannah. They’ve stayed up all night talking but have never done more than hug. She’s beautiful and makes him think. He’s considered telling her how he feels about her, but he was scared it would ruin their friendship. Watching his parents now, he doesn’t feel as afraid. As his dad unlocks the door to his apartment, William decides if he makes it back to 2023 he’s going to tell Hannah about his feelings.

Seeing his father’s old apartment thrills William. There’s the leather couch covered by a Navajo blanket and the fish tank from the basement of his childhood home. He tries not to think about it, but he suspects there’s a chance he was conceived on that couch based on the way his parents lock eyes over it. He glances over at the bookshelf and sees familiar titles on parapsychology, cryptozoology, and mythology. Some of these made the cut and are still in his parents’ house in Virginia, but others he’s never seen. He imagines his parents going through the bookshelf two decades ago, deciding which ones were still relevant and which ones they should give away.

Everything else in the apartment is the stuff of legends. This is the setting of all the stories his parents told him of late nights poring crime scene photos trying to break a case or watching old movies and debating the patriotic merits of butter on popcorn.

“This is so cool,” he says, unable to suppress a grin. “I’ve heard so much about this place.”

“About my apartment?” His dad sounds skeptical.

“Yeah,” he says. “This is where you lived before I was born, right? And then we all lived at mom’s old apartment for a little bit before moving into our house. Can we go see mom’s place? I’ve seen pictures from when I was a baby, but I don’t remember it.”

“Um, sure. We’ll see when she’s around. William, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are Agent Scully and I a couple in your time?”

“Of course,” William laughs. “You’re crazy about each other. It’s actually kind of gross sometimes.”

“Are we married?”

“Yeah. You didn’t get married until after I was born, but you told me that you’d been together for a while beforehand.”

Mulder’s quiet as he takes this all in.

“I really shouldn’t say anything else, you know, Back to the Future and everything. Don’t want to accidentally scrub myself out of existence. Remember we used to watch that all the time when I was a kid?”

“I—” his dad starts.

“Oh yeah,” William says, dejected. “Sorry, I keep forgetting.”

“It’s okay, buddy,” his dad says. Buddy. It’s what his dad always calls him. “I don’t remember. But I can imagine if I had a kid I’d want to watch that with him. What about Plan 9 From Outer Space? The Wrath of Khan?”

“Yup,” William says, smiling. “I was Spock for Halloween three years in a row when I was little. None of the other kids had any idea who I was. That was before the J.J. Abrams reboot and everything.”

“They did a reboot? Was it any good?”

“It was okay,” William says. “I liked it. But you said there was too much action.”

His dad grins as he sits down on the couch and invites William to sit next to him. The leather feels squeaky, not as soft and broken-in as he remembers it.

“Mom doesn’t believe me, does she?” William asks.

“She’s coming around to it,” Mulder says.

William shouldn’t be surprised. His mother, the doctor and scientist, has always been the skeptical one but it still crushes him whenever she gives him a cold stare without any recognition. Where’s the mom who read him stories, soothed his nightmares, and helped him with his homework? The one who learned all the rules of baseball and basketball so she could cheer him on during his high school games and listened excitedly when he talked about everything he was learning in his college physics classes? He’s glad his dad, at least, believes him, even though he has no memories of his entire life.

“Am I a good father?” His dad asks hesitantly, and William turns back to face him.

The question confuses him. He always thought fatherhood came naturally to his dad. He remembers hours of playing with Star Trek action figures and building Legos on the floor of their living room as a kid, playing catch and practicing fielding ground balls in their backyard until sunset.

“You’re the best,” he says as if he’s confirming the sky is blue.

His dad turns away and he thinks he sees tears in the corner of his eyes.

“Does that surprise you?” William asks. Growing up, his dad was his hero. He never suspected he had any doubts about being a father.

“Honestly, a little,” Mulder says. “You mentioned my sister, Samantha. I can’t imagine myself settling down and living this life with Scully, and with you, unless I found out what happened to her. Do I ever find her?”

William knows this part of the story—how, a little over a year before he was born, his parents learned Samantha died at 14 years old—but now he starts putting together the pieces. His father needed to get closure before allowing himself to commit fully to his mother and, eventually, to him.

“You’ll find out what happened,” he promises. “You’ll get your answers.”

He sees the pain in his dad’s eyes, how he wants so badly to ask William to tell him the truth, but William can’t bring himself to do it.

“Back to the Future, right?” William says. “I can’t mess up the past.”

“Alright, Marty McFly,” his dad says, his mood lightened. “Let’s work on figuring out how you got here. And how to get you back where you belong. You mentioned this Dr. Bellona. Any hint where he might be working now?”

“I don’t know,” William says. “We can Google him.”

“What’s a Google?” His dad’s puzzled face makes William laugh.

“Sorry,” he says. “I keep forgetting it’s not 2023 anymore. It’s a search engine on the internet. Do you even have internet access?”

“Not personally, but I know some guys who do.”

“The Gunmen?” William perks up. He loved spending time with his dad’s trio of offbeat friends growing up. They always let him play with their latest piece of technology and shared wild stories about his parents from before he was born.

“You know them?”

“Frohike, Langly, and Byers are basically my uncles,” he says and his dad smiles. “They’re awesome.”

“Want to go pay them a visit in 1993?”

***

The Gunmen’s headquarters hasn’t changed much in thirty years. The technology has evolved but it’s just as grungy, overstuffed with audiovisual equipment, and somewhat malodorous as he remembers. Apparently, none of the three have updated their wardrobes in decades either. William recognizes Frohike’s leather jacket and fingerless gloves, Langly’s Dead Kennedys t-shirt, and Byers’s funereal suit.

“Guys, this is William,” his dad says as they come inside. “William, you know the guys.”

The three men look around at each other and then back at William.

“He knows us?” Byers asks Mulder.

“Tell them,” Mulder says, nodding at William. “They’ll believe you.”

“I’m Mulder’s son. And Scully’s. I’m from the year 2023.”

Despite Mulder’s assurance, all three Gunmen start laughing nervously.

“I don’t know what’s harder to believe,” Frohike says. “That Mulder knocked up Scully or that you’re from the future.”

“He appeared at Camp Hero,” Mulder says and the guys stop laughing.

“No way,” Langly says. “Did you see the Delta T antenna? That’s what they use to bend time. It’s supposed to have technology the military stole from extraterrestrials from the Orion constellation.”

“Well, the Delta T antenna can bend time,” Byers adds, “but it’s probably not what allowed you to travel back from the future. That was likely the Phoenix III tunnel.”

“Yeah,” says Frohike. “Do you remember a tunnel that descended deep underground? The CIA has supposedly been throwing homeless people down there just to see what happens, and they come back saying they walked out onto Civil War battlegrounds.”

“He’s a little hazy on how exactly he got here, but we think we know who’s behind this,” Mulder interjects.

“Dr. Vincent Bellona,” William says. “He’s at CERN now. That’s where I was working before I came here, but I think if we find where he is now we might be able to figure out what happened to me.”

“You’re working at CERN?” Byers asks. “Impressive. Must be Agent Scully’s influence.”

“Think you guys could look him up on the ‘net?” Mulder asks.

“On it,” Frohike says as he rolls a chair over to a desktop computer. “Vincent Bellona. Looks like he’s a post-doc at Princeton, specializing in high-energy physics. And—this is interesting—he’s got a hot wife who’s even more accomplished than he is.”

“Oh, let’s see the wife,” Langly says.

“Samita Shah,” Frohike reads off the computer screen. William looks and sees a photo of a younger version of Bellona (with a full-head of hair) next to a pretty South Asian woman with long, dark hair cascading over one shoulder. They’re both in lab coats. The picture is above an article titled “Quantum Leap of Love: Meet the Physics Department’s New Power Couple.” Skimming the article, he learns that Bellona and his wife came to Princeton together to research W and Z bosons, although Shah’s list of publications appears to be twice as long as her husband’s.

“Did Bellona ever mention his wife to you?” Mulder asks.

“No,” William says. “I didn’t think he had one. He doesn’t wear a ring anyway. They must not be together anymore.”

“Frohike, can you print this out?” Mulder says, then turns to William. “What do you say we pick up Scully and then go see what Bellona’s up to at Princeton?”

***

On the drive to Scully’s apartment, William sneaks glances at his father from the passenger seat. While his mom’s face has thinned out over the years, his father seems narrower in 1993, less solid. They’re both free of wrinkles and the gray hair that he knows his mom dyes to hide, and look more like his peers than his parents. He imagines how worried they must be in 2023 when they come to visit him. Hopefully, they’re able to get in touch with Hannah. He told her what he saw Dr. Bellona doing at the Shiva statue and she knows that Bellona called him in last night, so he hopes she’s making the same logical leaps.

More than anything, he wants to talk to Hannah. He knows they could figure out what’s going on. But she doesn’t exist yet. He doesn’t know if her parents have even met. If he doesn’t get back to 2023, he’ll be 30 when she’s born—if he doesn’t manage to screw up the space-time continuum so much that she’s never born at all. The thought of a world without her in it doesn’t feel worth returning to.

William’s dad knocks on the door of his mom’s apartment. She opens the door in jeans, a flannel shirt, and small, round glasses. She looks like she could’ve been in one of his classes at MIT.

“Scully, we have a lead on Dr. Bellona. He’s teaching at Princeton currently. We have to go see him.”

“Mulder, slow down,” his mom says, her face scrunched in concern. “Can we have a word alone?”

William watches as his dad follows his mom into the kitchen. Her apartment is much more familiar than his dad’s. Even though they moved out when he was a few months old, he’s seen photos of his dad holding him in front of the wood bookshelf in the living room, and one of himself as a chubby-cheeked infant with both his parents on the same sofa he sits on now.

His parents are speaking softly, but he can still hear them from where he sits.

“The preliminary DNA test results came back and they’re surprising, to say the least.” William hears his mother opening an envelope and handling papers. “They appear to confirm William’s claims.”

“Scully, you know how accurate these tests are. What’s the likelihood that we aren’t his parents with these results? Less than 10 percent?”

“Even smaller,” she says. “Mulder, this is completely impossible.”

“At this point, it’s more impossible that he’s not telling the truth. You’re a scientist. If you had to testify in court, wouldn’t you say this objectively proves we’re his parents?”

“If I didn’t know the context, sure,” she says. “But this is actually not possible. It has to be a statistical anomaly.”

“A walking, talking statistical anomaly with your eyes and my nose?”

“Mulder, it’s easy to see patterns when you’re looking for them. A lot of people have blue eyes and, well, distinguished profiles.”

“Distinguished? Thanks, Scully.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Come on Scully, talk to him. He knows things about us. I think he’s a little upset you don’t believe him. You’re his mom after all.”

He hears her sigh and then they both come back to join him in the living room.

“William,” his mom starts. She’s turned towards him but her eyes are on the envelope in her hands and not him. “According to the preliminary DNA analysis, what you’re saying is true. Agent Mulder is your father and I, somehow, am your mother. I don’t know how to explain that, but these tests are extremely unlikely to be wrong.”

“I know,” William says. “I told you I was telling the truth.”

She finally faces him and he can see the bewilderment in her eyes. He has to remind himself that this is his mother in 1993. There’s so much she has neither seen nor experienced yet. He knows about her abduction and about Emily. By the time his parents left the X-Files, her name was attached to one of the thickest files in the office, but at this moment he worries that his being here feels like a violation to her.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Mulder says, filling the silence as Scully continues to stare at William, examining him.

“Maybe if we talk to Dr. Bellona, we can find out how to get me back where I belong. I realize this must be weird for both of you.”

His mother nods sadly, looking down at her hands interlaced in front of her. “I think that would be for the best.”

He smiles with his lips tightly shut and nods in agreement, but inside his stomach churns. He wants to reach out and hug her, let her smooth his hair down with her gentle touch like she did when he was little and not feeling well. His heart aches knowing he’s little more than a stranger to her.

#xfiles #txf #xf fanfic #msr #xfiles fanfic #x files #the x files

[missycolorful]

thinking about c!Phil with baby c!wilbur. like, he's an old immortal dude handling responsibility of a baby. he has never had a child before, he's the sort that doesn't want to hold your baby cause he's afraid he'll drop it. So he's kinda at a loss at what to do, but he's gonna try, because he can't just walk away from this small little thing with bouncy brown curls and big brown eyes. but his sleep schedule is fucked up more so than usual, because the boy will cry at 2 am until phil gathers him in his arms and bounces him slightly in the faintly lit bedroom. and holy shit, babies cry a lot, and over everything, how do you get them to stop? it's all frightening, in a weird way, because there's no handbook for this shit. when's a good age to transition to solid foods? at what age is it okay to give a kid a sword for his birthday? his rough hands are not meant for a life of domesticity, of cradling small, dependent life. he doesn't want to ruin this

phil's got no idea what he's doing, and wonders if there are other options, other places, better suited for the boy. but he gets this feeling in his chest when wilbur stands on his own two feet and waddles to him when he's just a year old. and that same feeling just about wrings his chest when wilbur speaks (his first word is "daa", that counts, right? phil thinks it does). and after telling wilbur stories of gods and angels before bed one evening, wilbur has figured out how to say "I love you" and no, he is not going to cry, shut up, just shut up. they go fishing in the middle of the boiling summers, they create paper lanterns to float above the autumn evening sky, wilbur performs concerts in the backyard with his new little guitar. and techno loves playing sword fighting with the kid, which soothes phil because someday, maybe wilbur can train properly to protect himself. wilbur's growing and growing, but his hair still bounces as he runs down the stairs for breakfast, and those big brown eyes still shine with something bright and something incredible, and phil prays to his Goddess that he's doing this all right, that he's doing good by wilbur, because he can't fuck this up, please.

Please.

#philza #wilbur soot #sandduo #dsmp #oh this uh... kinda got lost on me lol #i found this in my drafts from the other day wtff. think it's from when zablr became a wave of thinking about cphil

[leviathism]

hello, i was the one who requested the idia/floyd/reader fic and i wanted to thank u!! i love ur writing. do you think you could write more for them? like a date at the fair or an arcade

gender neutral reader

This had been your worst idea yet.

You had been looking towards the fair for the past two months now. Ever since it was announced, you had the desire to go. Who knew if fairs were different here or not?

Unfortunately, you didn’t think of your boyfriends’ personalities.

Floyd had ruined the punching bag that one festival vendor had, and you had sworn to pay the poor man back for the damages. Then Idia had almost crawled into your and Floyd’s hoodies several times to try and hide when he failed miserably at any of the games. And to top it all off, Idia didn’t want to go on any rides and Floyd was already bored.

So you sat there, miserably eating some disgusting soggy fries as you watched Idia try to throw a hoop onto a bottle to win a fish and Floyd go and harass and traumatize some small children.

You looked back to your fries, trying to reign in your mood so you didn’t snap at anyone.

Idia slumped onto the bench next to you, immediately leaning all his weight onto your side. He placed his plastic bag with his fish on the table, washing it sadly swim in the limited space it had.

“You’ll have to build him a tank,” you said, tracing a finger over the clear plastic. Idia took a fry, hungry.

“Yeah.” He didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood, which it seemed like he never was, but whatever. You ate some more fries.

There was piercing scream. Floyd came back, a content smile on his face. You gave him an unimpressed stare but didn’t say anything.

“Ya should’ve seen that girls face!” He laughed, a big dopey grin spreading across his lips.

He sat across from you and Idia, grinning more when you two greeted him. His gaze lingered on you before it drifted downwards to the wooden picnic table.

“Ooh, I saw you two got some food.” Floyd picked up the plastic bag, eyeing the fish as he mindlessly licked his lips.

Idia paled considerably but remained silent. He still struggled with saying no in your relationship, even with how close the three of you had gotten. You frowned and watched him, waiting for him to say something.

“Um… It’s not really…” Floyd began picking at where the bag was tied shut and Idia clutched desperately at the edge of the table, looking at you for help. “Uh..!”

“Floyd. It’s a friend.” You leaned your head on your propped up hand, suddenly exhausted. “It’s Idia’s new pet fish.”

Floyd frowned but obediently set the fish back on the table. Idia urgently picked it up and placed it on his lap out of Floyd’s sight.

Idia shot you a grateful look. You would have to work on his communication more, but right now… You closed your eyes. This was not how you wanted your night to go.

You sighed, a little bummed out and turned your mouth into your palm to face away from them so they couldn’t see your expression.

Then the fireworks began to set off. Idia jumped in his seat and Floyd’s laughter almost drowned out the explosions.

You sat up straight quickly, realizing the potential immediately. Bright colors, loud noises. Plus, nobody would be moving too much with groups spread in the empty fields to watch. It was perfect.

“Let’s go.” You stood up, brushing dirt off your pants. Idia stood up with you and Floyd went around the side of the table to stand next to the two of you.

“I didn’t know they had fireworks,” Idia said meekly, holding his fish to his chest.

“That’s ‘cause ya never leave your house.” Floyd elbowed him in the side making Idia glare at him.

“Let’s all be nice and kind, alright?” You sighed before Idia could snap back. You decided the three of you were never going to go to the fair again.

“Hmph, fine,” Idia muttered and began to lead the way, shoulders hiked up. You followed after him, and Floyd grabbed your hand and walked beside you.

Idia looked at the sky instead of all the people, miraculously dodging all the children running around. Meanwhile, Floyd snagged fries out of people’s containers when they weren’t looking. Criminal.

“See, this is a good spot!” You snagged the back of Idia’s hoodie, making him stumble to a stop.

“Is this it?” Floyd asked, already bored. You sighed.

“No. There’s a grand finale,” Idia moved to be behind the two of you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You were growing frustrated and Floyd seemed to notice. So he squinted his eyes at the fireworks and focused.

“I like the blue ones.” You patted his arm.

“A for effort.”

The grand finale was huge and worth it. Well, you enjoyed yourself at least. Maybe you were a little satisfied with tonight’s date.

“This was fun! We should do it again.” Idia smiled, hugging you tightly from his hidden position.

You thought for a minute and you were going to agree as maybe you could do it on a day Floyd wanted to go, but then…

“Maybe not…” You didn’t think you’d be welcomed back, especially with the sight of the security guards eyeing up Floyd currently.

#twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twst x gender neutral reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #twisted wonderland fluff #idia shroud x reader #idia x gn reader #idia x reader #floyd leech x reader

[beanghostprincess]

Thinking about the acrilics nail thing with fem sanji and nami and as a person who also works with their hands a lot I hate when my nails get too long (and that for me is if I look at my palms and can see my nails I will cut them) but a friend of mine loves doing nail art and I love it when she does my nails bc she makes them short bc she knows that I hate them long

So back to my fave girlies, Nami sees that Sanji is stressed and sad bc of the nails so she asks her to let her do it again, Sanji apologizes for ruining them but Nami quickly shut it down saying that it doesn't matter that she wants to try a new thing and Sanji bein the simp she is lets her

Nami goes for a short nail length and decides to try and do these watercolor effect on her nails (look it up if you don't know they're really cool) since she doesn't have a lot of space to do anything with it and it ends up looking like the ocean, Nami tried to do the all blue for her

It really could be any ocean but Sanji is crying of pure happiness and love and just overwhelmed with her gf taking into account her discomfort over her nails but also doing something to accommodate her and representing something she loves

It's really cute and Sanji goes through this phase where you awkwardly do everything without really touching anything so you don't ruin your nails but after a while she does everything normally again and Nami couldn't be happier than seeing her gf happy with something she made

AWWWWWW This is so cute. I'm sure they love spending time together while Nami does her nails!!!! It's not always sea themed btw!!! Nami is good with nails but she is not the BEST at drawing cute tiny things there, so she ends up calling Usopp (Yes I am making this lesbian Sanusona honoring my name deal with me please) bc their other girlfriend is the best artist known to mankin (I don't accept other opinions srry). And Usopp is THRILLED because now she can like. Draw little eggs. And bread. And fishes. In Sanji's nails. Like. She just has a whole set of acrylic nails that's just food-themed. It's adorable. She is the cutest, prettiest cook in the world so she has to have the most beautiful nails!!!!!!!

Please, that phase is so funny. You have to learn how to do basic stuff-- Me too. I mean. It's actually the first time I get acrylic nails and the first day is weird but tbh it's not as bad as people make it seem. But Sanji would be okay because she has shorter nails and she learns that! Wow!!!!!!! You can live normally with them!!!!!! But the first days she is calling Usopp to do everything for her bc she is scared of something happening to her nails and Nami is there rolling her eyes like "If it happens we just fix it, sweetie, don't worry".

I am sure tho that in the middle of a fight she would end up somehow breaking one of the nails and she'd be. So dramatic and angry abt it to whoever is fighting with her. Because her hands are now even more precious to her!!!! She has art her girlfriends made for her!!!!!! So ofc she is angry. The guy she is fighting laughs at her like "Hahaha ofc a girl would get so whiny for breaking her nails!!!!" and she just. Beats the shit out of him with so much pent-up anger and the fury of the gods on her side.

When the fight ends she goes to Nami and Usopp like *teary eyes* "Please fix my nails, my dearest, my treasure, please-" and Usopp and Nami complain abt her being dramatic but it's actually so cute that she appreciates their work so much.

#this is adorable i am sobbing #also nami has a set of tangerine themed nails #what if they have match nails!!!!!!!!!! WHAT IF MATCHING NAILS!!!!!!!! #usopp also has short nails bc how is she going to fight and do her silly little inventions otherwise #nami is the one with long nails and the one who can do everything twice as better than them even with those #throuple activity have your two girlfriends do your nails while you gossip about your pirate crew #one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #cat burglar nami #fem sanji #fem usopp #sanuso #sanami #usonami #sanusona #fem sanusona #ask-bean!