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#and i know that they're asking me about it
bolognamayhem117 · 2 days
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Hot Take: Astarion does NOT hate flowers. You just missed a few subtle hints through Act 1 and early Act 3.
Astarion's negativity is directed toward just about anything remotely pleasant as you move through early act three, starting the moment you leave Wyrm's Rock. First thing after Gortash's coronation he marvels near tears at the colors of the city in daylight. If you ask if he's alright, it pisses him off.
There's other instances I can't quite remember but he's a straight crank throughout early Act 3 and it took me several hours of gameplay to have a lightbulb moment about his newly crappier attitude.
He just spent the last two hundred years seeing everything in the overwhelmingly warm dim tones of indoor lighting via sconces, rushlights, and braziers, or the dingy blue gray of moonlight outside. Daylight colors are something he had more than a lifetime to forget and now that he has a chance to remember that vibrancy in his own home town, he knows he's going to have to forget it all over again either by death or by remaining a vampire spawn forever. The worm isn't going to live rent free in his head forever, and killing Cazador to ascend in his place likely feels like an insurmountable and impossible fight against a literal titan who could stomp him flat without a corm of effort.
He doesn't hate flowers, he hates EVERYTHING right now because it's all going away very soon and if he convinces himself he hates everything then he won't miss it when it's all gone again. He was denied this for two hundred years and he's PISSED at what was stolen from him and PISSED it's all going away again.
He behaved similarly in Act 1 about anyone besides him enjoying physical intimacy. Some of this content was cut, to my best knowledge, but the overwhelming majority of his dialog addressing the PC romancing anyone but him are negative or backhanded. This is for two reasons, I think. A: his Simple Plan just dissolved right before his eyes when you chose someone else which in his mind means he has zero safety net, and EVERYONE gets to enjoy sex (key wording being ENJOY, not simply having) except him... And it pisses him off.
He also gleefully interrupts the bug bear and the ogress, I think for the same reason as the above paragraph, being: If he doesn't get to enjoy intimacy neither do they.
He reacts with anger and disgust at anything he's being unfairly denied. Which... That's fair. His feelings are valid, but his reaction to it is pretty shitty and meanspirited.
The other companions I tend to keep in my party, (that is Lae'zel, Halsin, Karlach, and Wyll) however, are actually appearing to behave pretty patiently with him in Act 3 which I find interesting.
In the instance with the flowers Karlach doesn't bother trying to convince him otherwise of his opinion, she just tells him how they make her feel instead and rather than getting snippy or doubling down he more or less agrees to disagree. I also don't recall anyone disagreeing with Astarion during Gale's last quest tasks when he mentioned that he quit praying to gods who wouldn't hear him a long time ago but to be fair, I think the gods did everybody in this crew dirty and they all know it. It seems like they're consciously giving him the space to be mad about things, is what I'm saying.
Everyone I know including myself who crawled out of a long-term hot garbage situation kinda went wild for a bit with freedom, spoke poorly, behaved strangely, had extreme emotional reactions to things, and made some particularly terrible choices. I think that's just a part of recalibrating yourself, healing and learning how to be okay again.
Point is, I wouldn't conflate too many of the turbo-negative things he says with how he actually feels about anything. We certainly know what he says and what he feels are two very different things.
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demilypyro · 3 days
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Being an autistic adult is scary. I've long since stopped trusting my ability to infer what other people are thinking or feeling about me. Best I can do is educated guesses.
This person has generally been friendly towards me, but is that because they like me or because they're hiding their burning hatred beneath a veneer of politeness? There is literally no way to know. The worst part is that you can ask but there's still no way to know if they'll tell you their honest feelings or not.
The only assumption I can make is that if someone repeatedly makes the unprompted effort to approach me, that person probably likes me reasonably well. So the logical course of action is clearly to never approach anyone first and only speak when spoken to. This is definitely the right solution. Good job, me.
No.
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in-another-april · 2 days
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i had this idea that seems right up your alley-
i think spencer would love subtly showing his partner off, he'd wear a locket with their picture or a necklace with their initial,, so they're always with him yk :3
you hear that? that’s my heart monitor flatlining. this KILLED ME, thanks.
Spencer absolutely adores having a part of you with him wherever he goes! He loves the reminder of you (not that he really needs reminding, but shh) and the comforting feeling of you being there with him, even when you’re apart.
He so would wear/carry your initial somewhere on his person, I’m thinking a charm attached to a bracelet or his watch band. OR, instead of the initial: something related to an inside joke you have. There’s something so intimate about having something only the two of you would get.
He’s always fiddling with it (as he’s thinking of you!) Even just seeing it on his wrist is enough to cheer him up. And know that he is never!! taking that thing off, it’s a part of him now. Just like you are :(
Spencer loses it if you get one with his initial, he is so flustered and happy. He can’t take his eyes off of it for the next 3-5 business days, you’ve got him so smitten. (And smug, smirking to himself whenever someone asks and you answer that it’s for your boyfriend)
He alwayss keeps pictures of you with him, and he pulls them out to look at when he gets stressed or misses you. I think he’d keep a little one of the both of you on his desk, too.
Occasionally, some new agent or visitor will see it and be like “Hey, who’s that?” and the rest of the team just has to teasingly go “DON’T EVEN get him started,” because he can (and will!) talk about you for hours if given the opprotunity.
masterlist | inbox ♡
taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons @spencereidapologist @lyd14k4y @luvkatryna (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)
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TF141 & sexy clothes
Gaz absolutely supports you wearing whatever you feel sexy in. however, in his heart of hearts, he believes the sexiest thing you can wear around him is your pjs, your ratty old tees, your sleep shirts, your big hoodies, your slouchy garbage clothes. he just wants to know you're comfortable. not to mention the idea of you letting him see you the way nobody else gets to... letting yourself be totally vulnerable around him... that lights up a certain (slightly needy) (slightly possessive) part of his brain. interesting how easily his hands can slide past the hem of your clothes when they're bigger and slouchier, too.
Ghost loves lingerie, though. like wrapping a present just for him. it's less about the lace (or the bows, or the straps, or the leather, whatever you prefer) and more about the time and attention you're expending to make yourself look all sexy. all this work? for him? even if his usual compulsion is to act aloof and pretend it's no big deal, he can't hide the greedy way his eyes devour you--for me? don't mind if i do. it's a toss-up whether he decides to unwrap you completely or just push his calloused hands into your lil outfit and muss you up until it's not covering anything anymore. or maybe he'll just leave the wrapping on so he can keep admiring all your hard work while he pumps into you.
Price says he loves you in lingerie, and he does. he doesn't tell you how fucking crazy you drive him when you're dressed for business. that might mean the clothes you wear into the office every day; it might mean fatigues; it might mean a particular uniform; it might be sportswear. he's big into seeing you focused and in your element--your competence is sexy--while also knowing there are so few layers he'd need to peel off before he could have you completely forgetting yourself if he wanted. and hey! if the lace at the top of your thigh-highs happens to be peeking out from under your pencil skirt, or if your ass fills out your uniform just right? that's just fine with him. you do you. (for now. he'll do you later.)
Soap's preferences are simple. he likes access. skirts. dresses. obviously, if he could convince you to be naked 100% of the time, he would. sundresses are pretty, though. so are your studded black skirts if you're gothy. or your sharp, practical, form-fitting pencil skirts if you're professional. you can even wear a kilt if you'd like. his kilt. he doesn't mind. (he only asks that you wear it as it's meant to be worn--without a thing underneath.) on days you do wear a dress or skirt, you're lucky to make it out of the house without him darting after you, pulling the hem up your thighs, and wondering aloud how you managed to find any undergarments at all; he'd swear he hid every last pair. he peels your underwear off--don't protest, hen; you know how this works--and after that, your chances of getting out the door are slim to none.
...
more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag
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ajortga · 2 days
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can you keep a secret?
pairing: wednesday addams x fem reader
summary: you miss your girlfriend who's recently transferred to nevermore academy. your persistent whining is able to transfer you to nevermore and cling onto her the whole time there.
word count: 5k+
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based off request!
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W and R are in a relationship, W transfers to Nevermore. W and R may not have anything in common, but they do on some things, like R being an outcast as well (a werewolf ), R insists their parents that they transfer to Nevermore too. After they successfully did, R immediately finds W, the outcast's curious to what'll happen to R (obvi doesn't know they knew each other).. Basically every student in Nevermore sees them together everyday. One, asks W who R is to W, she answers truthfully, "They're My Lover." everything and everyone just goes crazy
-
“Cara mia, we live next to each other,” Wednesday says softly, brushing your hair back as you braid her black silky hair.
You hum, a little sad, finishing to braid her two tiny braids that hung low to her chest.
“But I won’t see you in school, baby." A huff escapes your lips as your girlfriend sighs, giving up on trying to coax your madness.
“Or at all,” you add, “you’ll have a damn dorm with some girl that you’ve never seen before. It’s not fair.”
The raven-haired girl rolls her eyes, “I’ll cut off my heart with the sharpest knife I know if I ever started to love someone more than you,” Wednesday suggests, trying to make you feel better.
She cups your cheeks as you refuse to speak and rubs her thumb gently around the pink tint covering them. A way to always make you feel better. Yet she knows better because you certainly don’t look better.
“We’re both outcasts Weds. My stupid parents just won’t allow me to transfer because they think Nevermore is weird. Yet they went to school there. That's not fair."
“They’re just trying to protect you. I'd feel that way too for our daughter if Nevermore had hurt me. If someone ever hurt you, they’re death will be a long one. Sufferable and miserable. So bad that they’ll beg for forgiveness before they bleed out.”
Usually Wednesday would expect you to smile and giggle, but you’re not. Why does your girlfriend have to leave you?
“Can’t you stay?” You ask, voice tiny.
“As much as I sneak out, Mother has already informed everyone including your parents not to let me stay the night. They are used to my.. Tactics per say.”
Your sharp nails from your growth as a soon to be wolfed out werewolf emerges, clawing the wood you attached to your wall when this kind of stuff happens.
"I can sneak you in and I'll even build you a door in my closet," you suggest.
"No, Y/N."
"What if we install a life-like robot and I'll sneak out with you?"
"No."
You huff angrily, slashing the wood.
Wednesday firmly takes your hand, and your hand almost scratches her, yet it stops as you don’t want to hurt her, “Stop that.”
“No,” you state, tugging your hand away and sinking them into the wood, so hard that a big ass dent forms.
Your girlfriend sighs, rolling her eyes as she sweeps her bangs away from her eyes, “I don’t know what you want me to do bambina. Maybe I could.. Sneak you away from this horrid place. But at what cost? Nevermore seems strange. Not strange in a way I’d want to discover in mysteries though.”
She sees the way you sigh, disappointed. Upset.
“You’ll be there for a whole school year, it’s far.”
“I’ll bring my typewriter. Distance won’t change that, swear on my cemetery. I’ll write you letters at night, secretly take the principal's mailbox and send them to you. Or I’ll threaten Thing in my backpack and crawl till he can give it to you.” Wednesday isn’t kidding, her stare is cold, well usually it was cold, but not towards you. “He can suffer in thorns, I’ll stitch him up, just as long as.. You’ll write back?”
You nod, yet you don’t care about the letters, you care about her.
“You’ll send them?”
“Yes.”
“Every night?”
“Yes.”
“What if you begin to stop when you feel like it’s not working anymore?”
“I won’t Y/N.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Oh, but I do.”
"No you don't, you don't know the future."
"But I do know that I won't stop sending my letters. I can feel it."
You stop scratching the wood and you bury yourself on Wednesday, breathing in her scent as you try to comfort yourself. Yet even when the lights are off, your heart is pounding, feeling alone.
-
A tear falls from your cheek as you watch Lurch stuff his trunk, Wednesday talking to her mother and father, while hesitantly hugging Pugsley. 
“You’ll have so much fun.” Morticia says, with a smile, kissing her cheek and staining it slightly with her black lipstick.
“Define fun as boring and a punishment, sure,” Wednesday stiffly responds, yet softens as she looks at you. She takes her mother’s hand off her shoulder and approaches you.
“If you cry, it'll be raining all day. And you don't want it to be all gloomy for you? I don't want my socks wet. A poem, along with two pages written in a small font. One to express my day, and one to express that stupid love so you can sleep peacefully at night with nightmares.” Wednesday says, stopping for a moment, “sweet nightmares,” she adds.
You nod, yet your tear stained cheeks aren’t really helping, she reaches up and wipes it off with her thumb. Then let you hug her, you immediately bury yourself into her and she sighs.
“I’ll be thinking of you, till every grain of sand can be counted.”
You watch her approach the car, then slip in. She has the window scroll down, and you look at her. As the car engine roars, you bite your lip. And slowly watch it wheel away. Slowly jogging till it’s out of sight.
-
It’s been two weeks. And sure enough, Wednesday has kept her promise. She’s sent you letters you’ve kept in your drawer, they’re never repetitive, but always show you love. You like it like that, knowing that it isn’t a chore for her to write letters for you. If anything, they’ve lengthened in size as she's sent more and more.
It makes you miss her a little more. You have to hug your life-sized stuffed animal at night that she sprayed her perfume on. She also left half a bottle on your counter, just in case it runs out. Though it takes longer to sleep, it makes you feel a little better knowing there was something that was like a piece of her beside you.
Thing has visited you, and you know that little guy has a huge memory. You lost the letter you were going to hand Thing, and though you were a little sad, he moved his fingers and you realized you could speak to him for hours and he would tell Wednesday every detail. She had even wrote to you,
~
I owe Thing a thank you, yet he can be provoking at times. He had communicated to me for an hour, thirty minutes, and thirty two seconds about your day. I always wonder what secrets lay in the Addams Family. Yet I’m not quite comprehending why Thing has a big memory space.
Nonetheless, I think about you everyday. My roommate, Enid, has been unpleasant with her interesting taste of fashion and colors. It’s distracting. In a negative way. You’re distracting in a way where I can’t take my eyes off your enticing figure Y/N. Weems had bothered me the whole day, smothered me with questions and made sure I was doing fine. No wonder why mother got along with her so much. Those two are like the same person just one with smothered ink. But, something that sparked my particular interest was that you can dorm with two other people. Thing had told me that there was an accident at your school. If you’d like, which I’d appreciate, could ask your mother about transferring, say it’s dangerous. You aren’t a late wolfer, but convince her possibly that Nevermore can increase your chances. Wish you were here, I hate Mr. Tuesday. That white bunny is always staring at me during my typing time. But I can tolerate him a bit more, knowing you gifted it to me. You love Mr. Tuesday, so I appreciate your gesture. It’s not often I get visions, but they’ve almost made me want to experience them more. I see you in them, baking. Writing to me. It makes me almost happy.
Enid keeps trying to get to know me, she’s a strange soul, but she’s a werewolf, like you. You two are nothing alike, yet I think you two would get along a bit too much. Except you don’t blast random glitter pop music during the night. During my WRITING TIME. Even thinking about it rots my brain. But I miss you cariño. Sleep tight, I’ve left at least 300 things to hide in your house and you’ll never expect where they are. But everyone is special, it’ll make you at least smile a little when I tell you each night. Today’s item is snuck inside your bed, I used Mother’s chainsaw to cut through the wood, it’s a tiny version of Mr. Tuesday. I asked Thing the other day to sneak it in that spot and he sanded the wood back in. It should be a sort of door. But I crocheted it during my free time, there are times where I can’t think during my writing time. That is an understatement, but I only think of you. But I’m hoping you can enjoy it for today.
Love you, sleep cozily,
Weds
-
You smile as you look under your bed, now noticing the small outline from Wednesday’s chainsaw and you open the little compartment to see another crocheted white bunny of Mr. Tuesday. You nuzzle it and place it on your desk. You love him. You even spent a few minutes grabbing white yarn and attaching it to your tote bag.
You think about what Wednesday said, someone had gotten hurt in your school from being stabbed by a senior that was drunk. Obviously he didn’t mean it. But you had seen how anxious your mom got when she found out the news.
It was 11:23PM, and your mom’s room light was illuminated from the hallway. You get out of bed, ruffle your hair, and approach her room. Your only thought is Wednesday.
-
Before you could even ask, you already noticed her holding a black card, the logo of Nevermore Academy apparent. It said in bolded letters, 1965 Jericho’s long lasting Nevermore Academy. One for outcasts.
“Mom?” You said, your voice slowly quiet, and she looked up at you, waving you over.
“Hi honey,” she replies, “I’ve been thinking about the accident at your school. And I know you don’t like that place that much. And as much as I feel like I should keep you there. Your safety is important to me.”
Your excitement grows, you want to have that wide smile off your face.
“So?...” You question, wondering if she was saying what you were thinking she meant.
“And you keep bringing Wednesday up. So me and Morticia talked, and I talked with your father. We’re going to send you to Nevermore, but only if you want to. As long as you write to us every end of the week and call us. We want our little wolf to meet ones like her. It’s not often you find ones like us here.”
You nod.
“Yes!”
You didn't even think it would be that easy.
-
As soon as you get the news you squeal and call Wednesday early in the morning. She responds almost quickly, her voice on the other line, “What brings you to call me this early Y/N?”
“I’m transferring to Nevermore!” You say, you were much more excited but your tired voice betrayed you.
There’s a pause, then a small, “What?”
“I’m coming!”
A laugh and you can almost feel your girlfriend smiling with a toothy grin with her ear pressed to the phone.
“I knew your parents would let you go somehow,” she says, voice more excited, yet anyone else would not notice but you.
You can hear some rustling, “I’m going to ask Weems if you can dorm with me. I can kick Enid out for all I care, yet she isn’t horrible. Just, I’d rather spend it with you if she doesn’t allow a three dorm. Maybe I shouldn’t bring up a three dorm at all.”
“Thing, go back home and ask Father if Lurch can drive Y/N to Nevermore. Actually, include that if he won’t ask, I’ll shave his head off. Also make sure that he sprays two times of her favorite perfume, have her favorite sour candy ready, her headphones, her books, and tell him to pack some melon milk for her too. And her cow stuffie. Make sure he’s playing the playlist she made that’s saved in the car.”
There is a pause, and she makes a small, ‘oh oh’
“Baby,” Wednesday doesn’t call you that much, but when she does you’re over the moon. It usually shows that she’s happy. Really happy, yet her voice is still soft and composed, “I installed a door behind your clothes in your closet, guess we’ll unwrap the 300 presents when we go home. But I got another Mr. Tuesday there, he has some sort of costume on.” 
She pauses, you hear a random girl jumping up and down in the background, squealing about something as your girlfriend groans and presses her ear back into her phone, sending Enid an annoyed glare, “Pack your stuff, I’ll be waiting. I might as well cut my ears off if Enid won’t stop blabbing her mouth off.” You can tell that Wednesday turns her head to face her new roommate, she says louder, since Enid couldn’t hear her talking to you, “Better yet, slice her mouth off.” Then Enid’s squeals die down.
You grin through the phone as you grab out another version of Mr. Tuesday with a mushroom hat, you hug him tight.
The doorbell rings and you hear your mom open it, putting Wednesday on speaker phone.
“I’m almost done packing.”
“Y/N, honey. Mrs. Addams requests to see you,” your mother’s voice echoes through the hallway and you glance at the door.
You don’t know how Wednesday can hear it but she does, “I’m taking into conclusion that she received my message. Oh yes, she replied with those stupid icons. Yet it is one of a thorny rose and a gravestone.”
“Coming!” You stuff your bags, “Be right back.”
-
You almost choke as Morticia brings you into her embrace, hugging her back with an easing gentleness.
“Hello little one,” her soft voice says, the one you find comfort in as much as you do Wednesday’s. She gently rubs your hair, “I informed Lurch for your arrival, he’s outside whenever you’ll be ready dear. I’m so glad you decided to willingly join Nevermore. It has been a place that holds many memories. It’s where I met Gomez and fell in love. Maybe Wednesday and you can find the secrets in it. Go on journeys with her. Dig some graves, set them on fire."
It weird you out, but you smile, nodding, “To spend it with Wednesday is all I need.”
“You’re a special soul, a pure heart I can handle. Now go,” she waves you away, “Don’t keep him waiting for long.”
You give her one last grin and look over your shoulder before turning the corner.
-
After hanging up on Wednesday when you finish packing all your bags, your mother and father hug you goodbye and give you your favorite cranberry juice. Sweet.
It’s cozy in the Addams car, comfortingly with no talk, just the music Wednesday requested (forced) Lurch to play that lingers in your playlist. You feel like a butler with all the requests Wednesday smothered him with.
An hour passes and you can see the way the clouds slightly come into view, then you see the environment change as a sign that reads, “Welcome to Jericho! A Town of History”
Then, you finally see the academy in view, and Lurch arrives right in front, before taking your bags and guiding you to Principal Weems.
“It is my honor to have you here at Nevermore. This school has history, and where you’ll certainly grow,” her smile is wide, a little too welcoming it gets a little scary.
You just give small mumbles and nods, “Well, Morticia called me this morning and I quickly looked through your demographics. It also isn’t a coincidence that you have straight A’s. A 4.3 GPA. Many extracurriculars, and of course, you’re a werewolf. I see.”
“It is no surprise also that you had gone to the same school as another student who just enrolled, Morticia’s daughter, Wednesday. She sure is.. Different. But nonetheless talented. She had asked me yesterday afternoon if it was possible to have a dorm of three, and I’m assuming that you have been planning to dorm with her for the rest of the semester?”
She reads your mind, you immediately nod your head up and down, “Yes.”
“Well, most of the 3 dorms have been occupied, but her and Enid seem to have a slow relationship. I’ll have her in my office today, but by the end of the night or tomorrow morning I’ll give you my answer.” Weems scribbles on a note, writes some address and a name, “You’ll be rooming with Yoko, sound okay?”
You nod.
“Alright, I’ll call Enid up, for your guide.”
“..Guide?”
She nods, “Of course, we have many classes you can do, and people you can meet. She knows this place well, and I know that she’ll open up your shell.”
-
As Wednesday watches Enid leave, a soft grin forms on her face as she unties Thing from the random crocheted pink jacket Enid made for him.
Her eyes scan Enid as the door closes, then she turns to him, “I’m expecting Y/N is here. I’ve crocheted a questionable amount of Mr. Tuesdays.” She informs, “I shouldn’t have admitted that,” Wednesday sighs, as she pulls out the drawer next to her to reveal at least 40 assorted sizes of the same bunny. There were some in outfits, wigs. Wednesday almost finds it as therapeutic as her writing time. She crochets them whenever Enid leaves their dorm.
Thing smacks his head, and the braided girl glares at him, “Don’t judge me, I can cut off your fingers any time,” she threatens, seeing the way Thing surrendered with two fingers up in the air.
Then he moves around his fingers and does random hand movements.
“You think I’d follow Enid and try to make conversation with Y/N so much that Enid will get suspicious? You’d really think I’d do that?” 
Thing agrees.
“Then, you know me too well, let’s go.”
-
“Enid, glad you’re- Wednesday? It seems like you’ve tagged along,” Weems adds as she almost seems surprised, looking at her. If anything, the look in her eye is cautious.
“Yes,” Wednesday responds, trying to avoid the way your eyes almost smile as you look at her, but if anyone else were to look at you, they wouldn’t notice. “I’ve decided to accompany Enid, this is much more exciting than some other events at Nevermore,” she adds again, not entirely rude.
You sit in the middle while Wednesday takes the only left seat available, scooches her chair closer. Her hand rubs over yours after meeting under the covers of Weem’s desk. She takes note of how a small smile creeps on your face when Weem talks because of that.
“This is actually so awesome,” the blonde cheers next to you, making you turn your head and turn it, confused.
“We’re both werewolves silly! We should dorm 3 together! Wait, are there even any 3 dorms left?” When the principal shakes her head no, Enid sighs, “Then Wednesday can pair with Yoko. Actually, she barely even talks to Yoko, let alone handle her better than she’ll be able to handle me.”
You blink, glance at Wednesday for a moment and she shakes her head frantically.
“What if I dorm with her?”
The question leaves everyone silent, well everyone is surprised but Wednesday.
“You’d want to room with Wednesday while Enid rooms with Yoko?”
There's a lingering silence as you look around, “Why not? I'd like to get to know her better,” you lie. The most you want to do is get to talk to your girlfriend again.
"Oh. You don't want to, you know, get to know Wednesday before actually having to dorm with her?"
"Nope."
"Well, then that’s settled for your dorm. I’ll have to file Enid for a dorm change. But I’d like to ask if that is okay for both Wednesday and Enid.”
“Yes,” your girlfriend immediately responds, then coughs a little to cover up her excitement that’s masked behind her calm demeanor. “I can take a break from someone that is the complete opposite of me.
“I’d be happy to dorm with Yoko, at least I can have my music playing at night and my glitter-”
“My ears are bleeding Enid, don’t mention that word you just said.”
“Glitter?” Enid questions.
“No.”
You giggle from your girlfriend’s demeanor, squeezing her hand under the desk.
-
“This is Ophiela Hall! You don’t need to find your people here, you can make plenty of friends in other groups, but you have a group of werewolves! And what makes it even better is that we haven’t wolfed out!” Enid jumps up and down and you watch her legs bounce up and down, up and down. She’s like a whole party.
People give you two small looks, both you and Wednesday can tell they’re almost surprised she tagged along with someone whos new. It makes you smile a little.
Your girlfriend notices them whispering about you. Not anything bad, you seem like the sweetest person out of them all, but they’re whispering about the two of you. Even Bianca gives you a cautious look, but you’re too distracted to know what their saying as Enid keeps talking to you and dragging you along. Wednesday follows like a puppy.
“Enid, hey.” A boy speaks up, and you turn around at the new voice, he’s wearing blue and a beanie. The same tie everyone is wearing.
“Oh hi Ajax, this is Y/N. She’s new and I’m showing her around.”
A glare is thrown at Ajax as your girlfriend exhales. You give a small wave, “Hi.”
“You a werewolf too?”
You nod, seeing the way his hat kind of turns sideways, poking some peeking out snakes back into it. That’s scary.
The bell rings and you look around, confused, Enid grabs the paper you stuck in your bag.
“Oh, hey! Your next class is with Wednesday and I, it’s just plant anatomy with Thornhill. Come on.”
-
Somehow Wednesday gets Xaiver to move away from her, so now you’re sitting next to her.
“What the hell is this class?”
“Thornhill just talks about plants. The only entertaining aspect of this is that I like seeing Bianca fail to beat me. Though that goes in almost everything.”
The auburn hair girl turns around, with a wide smile and fairly big glasses for the size of her head.
“It’s a pleasure to have a new student, I’m glad to have you in our third period class Y/N.”
You embarrassingly smile, everyone looking at you, some with smiles and some with just small glances. 
“Could you give us the formula on how to turn this plant into a…” Thornhill goes on and you look at the plant, it seems it’s a Ghost Orchid.
You answer almost immediately, and Wednesday nudges you with her foot to almost say a ‘yay.’
Bianca stares at you as Thronhill clasps her hands together, “Exactly, you know your plants well. I’m sure you’ll excel here. Today we’ll have a change of assignments. It’ll be a challenge for duos against other duos and whoever answers first, and correctly for that fact, will earn a point till all the questions run out. Sound easy enough? Alright, let me get my cards ready.”
A knowing smirk grows in between you two, “We’ll win in no time,” Wednesday states, you look at the duos. It’s you and her, Enid and Yoko, Bianca and Divina, and other people you have no clue about, including Xaiver.
The game starts and before Thornhill can even get to the end of the question, you and Wednesday slap the bell, giving out the answer.
“Quick hands,” Xavier mumbles.
“That’s correct! Great job girls.”
The game goes on, and you’re tied with Bianca’s team. The silence can be cut with a knife as the two duos anticipately wait for the question. As Thornhill begins to read out the question, it takes you two a while to know the answer. Bianca and Divina seem stuck.
It’s several moments before the learning in your past catches up to you, slamming the bell and saying out the answer.
“Correct once again! You two win, great job! You can grab a succulent or stick to two pieces of candy that’s probably expired at the end of class.”
You and Wednesday high-five and to say the least, everyone is surprised because the braided-hair girl never let’s anyone touch her.
-
Weeks have past, and you’ve never been happier. Giving ideas for Wednesday’s stories that even she never thought about, helping her crochet more Mr. Tuesdays, so much that she had thing steal a laundry basket from Weem’s office, and even braid her hair and put black ribbons. She’s grateful to have you at Nevermore, her stories have been expanding because of you.
Your always stuck to her side, fencing playfully with her, even willing to go out in the woods with her. But she hasn’t went out since your arrival, knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave her side, and she certainly doesn’t want you getting hurt.
Even you and her worked together designing a matching cat on your black and white pajamas.
It’s fun when you two get to talk about life when you two are in your dorms, even better when you two are on the balcony and watching the stars. Wednesday plays the cello while you sing. She loves that she has someone that she puts her closed-off personality aside for.
“I love it, you look so pretty with bows baby,” you say, tying the ribbon.
“You look pretty with bows or without cara mia.” 
“Shut ‘p,” you say, smacking her arm lightly as she wraps her arms around you and rubs your hair.
It’s not long till Weems announce that it’s time for lunch.
Wednesday gets up, signalling you to come with her, but when you don’t, she comes back to sit next to you.
“I’m just looking for my necklace, you can go ahead, it won’t take long, promise.”
She sighs, and nods for a moment, then points at Thing, “Help her.”
Thing waves his hands as she blows a soft air kiss and closes the door.
-
It’s sprinkling a little bit when Wednesday is outside.
“How does Wednesday act so non-hazardous with Y/N? It’s honestly impressive.”
“That’s not impressive, how the hell does she not smack her or give her glares? Do you not see the way her eyes actually look normal when she looks at her? Not even normal, they’re gentle! Plus she was the first to go run and get a bandaid when Y/N accidentally got a paper cut.”
It’s like they summoned the girl, who’s holding a plate of her lunch.
Enid smiles and Wednesday sits down, looking at everyone.
“Are you seriously speaking about me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We want to know why the hell you are actually sweet with Y/N.”
“You could’ve used any word besides sweet.”
“Baby-like?”
“Even worse.”
“Don’t dodge the question,” Bianca adds, somehow now being in this conversation, “You killed the biggest spider that was crawling to her, for her.”
“She doesn’t like spiders. Who wouldn’t use not being afraid of spiders to protect someone who is?”
Bianca blinks, then wrinkles her nose, “If it was me you’d certainly let it bite me.”
“Well that’s different.”
Everyone at the table groans, “Exactly!”
“What did I tell you?”
“The only person you’d not let it bite is Y/N, we just want to know why.”
“I’m protecting her because she’s my girlfriend.”
Everyone turns their head to her, “What?”
Enid slams her fists to the table, “I fucking knew it. I knew it! Ajax, you owe me five dollars. I CALLED IT.”
“The Wednesday Addams actually has a girlfriend?”
“Why didn’t we catch on?”
“They’re kinda cute together- don’t even speak or she’ll actually cut your head off if you say cute.”
Everyone is arguing with each other, going crazy. But by the time they cool down and look at where Wednesday was sitting, her seat is empty.
Then everyone looks around and sees her draping her black jacket over your tiny figure, she pulls you closer to her chest as you hold onto her. (Let’s say she’s atleast 4 inches taller than 5’1 in this.) You tug her big jacket over your shoulders as you hug her. She holds onto you and guides you to the table, kissing your forehead and brushing your damp hair.
Even when she comes back, she bends down and takes the butterfly that’s resting on your hair and places it on your hand. “I heard somewhere that if a butterfly lands on you, it means that they see you as a beautiful flower.” 
“I never heard that before.”
“I know, I made that up.”
Everyone starts screaming again, making your girlfriend and your heads snap at them.
“Look at them!”
“Aw! So cute!”
“I want to say this is disgusting but they’ll be my roman empire soon enough.”
You turn back to her, seeing her eyes soften, almost happily, "You told them?”
“I didn’t know why they didn’t conclude to that in the beginning.”
Bianca groans, rolling her eyes as everyone is screaming, then Xavier chimes in. "Back to that spider scenario. I definitely think Wednesday would kill it for me."
You glare at him, clinging onto your girlfriend a little more like a koala. She rubs your back as you tighten your arms around her.
"Your sense of self-love is filled with stupidity. I'd kill the spiders that are harmless to you and leave the ones that are most venomous and ugly looking for people like you."
Xavier goes quiet, making a defeated grunt.
Everyone does their little, 'awws' again. You turn to her, now that everyone knows about your status.
“At least we can kiss in the hallways?”
“Maybe save that for the dorms.”
“Can we kiss right now?”
Wednesday’s eyebrows lift up, and she sighs, turning you away from the group and giving you a light kiss, as your lips press together, she nudges a small Mr. Tuesday now with inverted colors, a black bunny. They're both holding hearts and have a star over their head.
"Now Mr. Tuesday has a Mr. Wednesday," she says softly, tucking her black jacket tighter around you as you continue hugging her.
"And Miss. Y/L/N has a Miss. Addams."
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erwinsvow · 3 days
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what abt shy!reader sleeping over at rafes for the first time?? 😊😊
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you'd been so nervous, slathering way too much frosting onto chocolate cupcakes while rafe told you the agenda he'd planned for tonight's date. in between mentions of dinner at this restaurant he liked on the water and stopping to get some ice cream before the outdoor movie, he'd thrown in a sentence that made your heart thud in your chest.
"unless you wanna come watch a movie here. we can eat all this crap you jus' made." you look up, butter knife almost slipping out of your hand.
"watch a movie.. here?"
"yeah. couch's comfy. got enough dessert to get a cavity. you can sleep over. how's that sound?"
it sounded terrifying. this was a milestone, one you needed several days and a new set of pajamas to prepare for. rafe looks down at your worried eyes, knitted eyebrows. you set down the cupcake before you drop it.
"sleep over?" you repeat it softly.
"snap out of it, kid. you don't have to." though the words feel like they should be mean, they're not. spoken with a sweetness you often found yourself wondering came naturally to your boyfriend, or if you brought it out in him. you hope for both.
"no, i want to," you correct quickly, blinking fast. "um, can you bring me home to get my stuff?"
"yeah. before dinner."
you turn back to your cupcakes with a smile, one that he stares at while you finish up. true to his word, he brings you home—you drop off a few sweets for your parents, give your kitten a treat while you pack a quick bag and grab your toothbrush. you don't change for dinner, keeping the pretty dress on until he gets you back into his bedroom later that night.
you've brought clothes to sleep in, but you hover in front of rafe's dresser still, working up the nerve to ask for one of his shirts to wear to bed. you can't seem to find it, deciding just to wear your pajamas, no matter how silly they are, when rafe opens the drawer and pulls out two shirts. he hands you one.
"get changed. m'gonna go change in the bathroom. be right back." you think you'd marry the boy if he asked right now—he seems to know your every thought before you can even finish thinking it, or figure out how to articulate it.
when rafe comes back you're a vision in one of his old frat shirts, playing with your hair while you sit on the foot of his bed.
"ready to sleep?" he asks, and you look up from your knees, smiling at him the way he wish you wouldn't sometimes, the way that makes his chest hurt with the amount of love pouring through your pretty eyes.
"what about dessert?" you ask with a laugh, smiling bigger when he rolls his eyes.
"haven't you had enough? how do you still have teeth?"
"i floss."
"shut up. get in bed." you crawl under his covers, inhaling the way everything smells like him. you lay your head down on one of his pillows, staring when he gets in next to you. "you okay?"
you love that he asks, that he cares enough to make sure.
"yeah. i'm okay."
"good. get some sleep." he doesn't say anything, but he still brings you in close to his chest, head on top of his heart, an arm around you, legs tangled together. when he thinks you're asleep, you hear the quiet sound.
"night, kid."
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11cupid-tarot11 · 2 days
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How would your future spouse treat you on your moon cycle? <3
I was having such bad cramps when this question suddenly hit me and I figured we'd all love to know, right? Even though I get very cranky and like to be alone during my time of the month hehe.
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1 -> 2
3 -> 4
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Pile 1- Wheel of fortune, queen of wands, queen of swords.
So this person will literally try to pamper you, whatever that may look like for you. I'm hearing they'll respect all of your boundaries and will grant all of your wishes, they're very supportive. I'm hearing they don't like seeing you in pain and they understand how uncomfortable this time frame is for you.
I think this person is naturally caring and easily can read human emotions and they're giving therapists vibes tbh like they could work in that field or maybe for some I'm picking up on massage therapists, this person just seems like they know humans enough like maybe they studied it or it could just means they've studied you so well they know what you need (I said 'want' at first but was directed to switch it to 'need'. Someone's fs here likes being in charge lol) . Either way, I think they'd love to be your massage therapist around this time. I'm hearing anything to make you feel good.
THEY WILL LITERALLY TREAT YOU LIKE A QUEEN, pamper you, spoil you.
I'm hearing for some, around your moon cycle you get mood swings maybe? Your entire energy changes enough for this person to catch on and they'll know before/when you're on your period because of this. Maybe you're usually very chill and calm and around this time you're just more cranky than usual like me lol and your person will try very hard to just make sure your okay and not taking their head off? Lol, the way your person talks is very funny, they're very funny and so so sweet!
I think this person will treat you so well simply because they love you, you're their baby and they respect you so much. You're literally their queen. They love you so so much 😍 they want me to leave this rose emoji for you 🌹 (I think they're very giving, it's just in their nature 😭)
Other messages- my sweet girl, lots of chocolate and warm towels, hugs and I'm picking up on those who would rather be left alone for moments at a time they understand, they'll check up on you occasionally and will still be very affectionate (u can't refuse their hugs I'm hearing no escape lol 🤣😭 they're very cute. I think they like compliments? They might blush and smile a lot?) The type to randomly kiss ur forehead or cheek when ur literally just ✨chillin✨ just because.
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
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Pile 2- Ace of swords, temperance, the fool and the hermit.
So I think this person actually doesn't know much about a women's cycle, I think for a specific few they're the only child or maybe they just didn't grow up around a lot of feminine energy so this just isn't their field but I'm hearing they'd try damn hard to make sure everything's okay!
They'd follow your lead on this, like they prefer to maybe watch you from afar during this time? Like sometimes they don't know if they should bother or if they could help at all so they'll probably just straight up ask if there's anything they can do. This person isn't immature about it, but they do feel a bit awkward during those days? (I'm actually dying at ur person, they hardly know how to describe anything?)
Okay, for example, say you're having very bad stomach cramps and you've been in bed all day complaining, they would probably let you stay in bed as long as you'd like and would peek their head in the doorway to silently check up on you because they don't know if they should disturb you or not.
I think they'd love it if you just told them or ask for anything you need, I think they'd rather you rest and use them as a servant 😜 (ur person wanted me to add that, they felt very serious until now? I'm dying) until you feel better, they'll try different approaches tho, I don't think it'll always be this awkward. I think when you two have been together for awhile they'll pick up. I think then they'd mix up their own home remedies, and their own strategies by now, they're not very specific on what this could be or what it could look like because I think this person doesn't really want you to know?
They really want you to feel cared for and like they're there for you as much as possible so they're constantly thinking of new ideas for you!
This is not an 18+ reading and take it how it resonates but I think a very selective few wouldn't mind having intercourse on their moon cycle? 👀
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
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Pile 3- Death, Ace of coins, The tower, Page of wands
This pile feels different, I was getting the energy of your person being shy and excited to have their turn for the reading 🤣 maybe this person isn't someone who you see romantically at first, could be a roommate a friend but you do know this person or they will come into your life at some point and you guys will have some kind of friendship from the start. It's giving secret admirer tho.
With the death card I'm thinking y'all could've just made it official, it feels like this is something new to them. Maybe it makes them feel a step closer to you? They think it's very cool you're trusting them enough at a time like this. They really value it.
I think they'll be the type to really go all in, ask you probably 20x a day "What do you need?" I saw that scene from Aladdin, when the genie is explaining how tired he is of being in the lamp and he's like "What do you need?Poof! What do you need? Poof!"
This person is trying to charm you and maybe show you they really care for you by doing this, I'm hearing 365 days a year they'll be like this tho, not only when you're on your moon cycle. I think they want you to be vulnerable with them or can't wait to see more vulnerable sides of you.
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
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Pile 4- The moon, Kight of coins, Temperance, Kight of swords.
My pile 4's energy is different, I think this person could be older than you? This person overall isn't someone who's very cuddly or could even be very hard to read so moments like these really show that side of them in their own way?
For example, say you ran out of pads but your stomach hurts too bad to go get them yourself, your person wouldn't be thrilled to shop in the women's section but for YOU they will, they'll go get your pads and make sure they're the right size and everything (I'm hearing he'll literally call you and ask what size he should get).
They're very serious when it comes to you, they have dedication and it shows in the oddest ways possible.
So for your time of the month they'd be very chill about, the other piles felt all jittery and nervous like they were scared to mess up but your person is smart, he'll break down those walls for you, if you just want to cuddle in bed they'll hold you as long as you like. I'm hearing they're actually kind of "softer" at the right times (I'm sorry I can't think of a better word right now)
You'll love how this person will treat you and your needs and I'm hearing symptoms as well, they're very comfortable and reliable. He's like your big giant teddy bear! 🧸
Let me know how it resonates in the comments below! Leave a suggestion for the next pick a pile!
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weird-an · 3 days
Text
"For fuck's sake."
Jim already has a headache and apparently it's gonna get much worse. He pours himself a cup of the shittiest coffee in Hawkins and turns to the kid sitting in front of his desk.
"What happened, kid?" he asks. "Why would you do that?"
Billy Hargrove reeks of cheap liquor, trouble and the metallic smell of blood. His lip is split and he looks like he hasn't slept in a week or so.
Billy doesn't answer, just glares at him.
"Breakin' and entering is no joke," Jim starts again. He sounds as pissed off as he feels, because he still has Mrs. Carters shrill voice in his ear, calling from Loch Nora about a burglar, about her fancy neighborhood getting sullied.
"I didn't do shit," Billy protests. "I…was just…"
He falls silent, mouth snapping shout like he regrets he even said a word.
"What?" Jim probes, because there's a piece of the puzzle missing.
Billy shakes his head, lips thin.
"Should I call the Harrington's and ask if you were invited?" Jim knows he's an asshole, but it comes more naturally to him than being nice.
Something flashes across Billy's face and his tan gets drained out by miserable paleness.
"Don't call them," Billy says, fingers digging into his thigh so hard his knuckles turn white.
"So, let's try again," Jim says, taking another sip from the dishwater the station claims is coffee.
"The key's under the flower pot," Billy mumbles.
Jim raises a brow. "And you know that why?"
Billy's eyes shoot dagger at him, the way only a pissed of teenager can look at an adult.
"Steve put it there for me," he says lowly, like it's a secret, something dirty and shameful you hide under your bed. "In case I need a place to go to…"
"So, you're pals?" Jim asks, huffing a laugh in disbelief. "Why didn't you say so?"
Billy's jaw tightens.
"Nobody knows," he finally says. His fingers find his necklace, tugging at the pendant. "It's better that way."
Jim is close to crack a joke about dramatic teenagers, but Billy's blue eyes are dark and there's a sadness there that doesn't belong to someone so young.
Whatever it is, Jim gets another piece of a puzzle - but apparently they're playing Hide and Seek.
"Okay," he says after a while. He'll put a stamp on the report, saying Confidential or similar shit. "You can go."
Surprise makes Billy look softer, less hurt. "What?"
Jim shrugs. "I've heard enough. Or do you want me to lock you up?"
It's a joke, but his throat clogs up when he looks down on Billy's file and sees that the kid had already spend a night the drunk tank a few weeks ago.
"Whatever, Chief." Billy lifts his hands. "I'm outta here, then."
The kid is halfway through the door, when it hits Jim. Billy can't go back to Loch Nora right now. Mrs. Carter is probably on guard.
"If you still need a place to stay, you can sleep in the break room," Jim offers. "The couch is a disaster though."
Billy stands in the doorway, eyes wide. He plays it cool when he catches himself.
"If I don't have to drink that shit." He points at the coffee. Jim can't blame him. Although 1 am is way too late to get cheeky.
"Just go to bed," Jim grumbles.
Billy salutes him. Jim can see his shoulders sinking, his whole body a bit less tense. Maybe he'll get them donuts for breakfast.
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 31] || [Chapter 33]
Pairing: Gaz x gn!Reader || Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ cw: not angst but a bit 'angsty', fluff fluff fluff. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: This one made me all emosh to write ngl.
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Chapter 32: No Harm Done.
You're sitting by the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony on Sunday morning, looking out and holding a warm drink in your hands.
It's raining outside. It's always raining in England, so it shouldn't really surprise you... but it still feels like a lazy, down-sort of day regardless.
You're home alone. Johnny went to base for P.T. and a meeting of sorts, while Kyle went out to the gym himself, giving you some time for yourself.
Your phone sits in front of you, fingers tapping away, back-and-forth, between chats with friends and with the lads, your lads.
Ghost said they'd text you to let you know when they were back, a promise they'd made after they sort of just turned up at your door all injured and hurt without warning so many weeks ago.
It feels like it's been an eternity since you had them all here.
Your eyes find your chat with Simon, flittering over the last couple of texts you sent each other. Right before the boys left on their newest mission.
Regardless of what Kyle and Johnny say about Simon, he's actually the best texter out of all of them... John being the worst.
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simon: Have about 5 minutes before we have to go. you: will u be safe? simon: Always am sweetheart. simon: Don't you worry about me. you: i meant ALL of you. you: and of course i worry about u! simon: If it was about all of us, you wouldn't be messaging me separately. simon: And I appreciate it but you shouldn't. you: i hate how smart u are. you: u face death literally every day in your job simon: And I always come back. you: okay but im allowed to worry no? you: youd worry about the others too? simon: I guess so. simon: But I'll be fine. you: u dont know that. simon: I know enough. simon: Been doing this for over a decade. you: that's not reassuring the way you think it is. simon: You're very worried. Is this because of what I said?
That text makes you set down your phone when you read it again, your face warm with embarrassment at the reminder, just like it had been during that text exchange as it was happening.
He had told you he loves you. Two of them had by now.
The thought of that still makes you shiver, the words so full of emotion and vulnerability when Simon said them, never any pressure on you, just a gesture on his end.
you: maybe? simon: That's really cute of you. simon: Don't let it make you worry or overthink. simon: I'll make sure I come back to you. you: si... simon: GTG ✋ simon: Will text you when I touch down.
Kyle's, however, were a lot less vulnerable. They were sweet, sudden, driven by happiness and amusement...
Both of them came out of left field and caught you off-guard.
Both of them felt just as real, however.
You took a sip of your warm drink and glanced out of the window again, watching the droplets slide down the glass panes.
You can't help but think about how things have been going for you.
Is this becoming too much? Is it going too far? Did you finally lose the plot?
When did a silly little Tinder account you made with your friends while fighting heartbreak become a 4-way relationship and 2 out 4 men telling you they're in love with you?
You're lost in thought when the door opens behind you, Kyle making his way in.
"Hey, lovie." He greeted, causing you to jump a bit, spilling some of your drink over the glass top of the table.
"Ah, fuck." You complained as you reached for the napkin holder and started mopping up the liquid. "Hi, Ky." You added as you cleaned the mess you made.
"Sorry, did I catch you off guard?" He asked as he approached the table and began to help you.
"Yeah..." You murmured and looked up at him, finally, finding him in a grey sleeveless hoodie and black workout shorts.
You smiled softly at him as you gathered the wet napkins and moved to the kitchen to dispose of them.
Kyle seemed to catch the look in your eyes as you glanced up at him. "What's wrong? You seem strange..." He asked as you followed you into the kitchen.
"Just thinking, it's nothing." You told him as you turned after throwing out the rubbish, only to find him standing right behind you, looking at you with scrunched brows.
"Is this about yesterday?" He asked you softly. "Was it too early?" He added in earnest.
The memories of the day before come back to you sharply. The way, after he told you he loved you, you sputtered for a bit, your face burning up, your eyes wide...
And how you had come back home together, your nose still pink, his cheek still red, the both of you looking embarrassed and sheepish, avoiding eye contact and biting your lip.
How Johnny had teased the two of you, thinking you had gotten down and dirty in the car and that's why you had come home looking so embarrassed...
You look up at him with a sigh and shake your head. "No, it's just..." You trailed off.
"Was it because Soap teased us after we came back?" He reached forward and gently ran a hand over your cheek.
"No!" You added and sighed, leaning into his palm, and gently holding his forearm in your hand.
"I'm just worried... I've never... been in something like this before." You explained, as you looked into his eyes. "More than one partner and-"
Kyle nodded at you, watching you with understanding eyes and a soft gaze, like he wanted you to keep talking, communicating.
"I don't know how to act about this... I don't know..." You trailed off and looked away for a moment. "It's... a strange feeling."
"To love more than one person at once?" He asked you as his brows raised in inquiry.
You nodded in response and looked up at him. "Yeah... And to... have them love me back."
"So I wasn't the first to tell you, huh?" Kyle asked, having caught the way you mentioned 'more than one person' when it came to 'loving you back'.
Your face burned up hot in embarrassment and you shook your head at him.
"Simon was." You replied, which made Kyle's eyes widen and then a smile take over his lips as he shook his head.
"Wasn't expecting that..." Kyle admitted as he caressed your cheek again.
"Did you say it back for him? Like you did for me?" He asked and you nodded your head in reply.
"Well..." Kyle trailed off, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, as if pondering what to say, and how to say it. "It's not exactly a bad feeling, is it?"
You shook your head. It wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, you quite liked having said the words, having had the words said to you.
"Then, I'd say there's not a big cause for worry. We all knew this would happen, right?" He added. You, once again, nodded at him.
Gently, he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks. "Then, let's just... let it be." He chuckled.
"You and I love each other. You and Simon love each other. I love Simon too..." He admitted with a shrug. "No harm done, right?"
Smiling a bit more, you ended up nodding and gently pushed up, kissing him slowly and deeply, both of your eyes closing, his hands caressing your face, your hands caressing his forearms...
You're so into the kiss, you don't hear the front door close, nor Johnny approach, until he shows up at the kitchen door. "Greedy bastard, leave some space for the Tav, will ye?"
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling ,
@tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva ,
@emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes ,
@irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary ,
@leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx , @severenswife , @enarien ,
@l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago ,
@sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki ,
@comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear ,
@mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat ,
@stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving ,
@blckbrrybasket , @agoodmoviekiss
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eupheme · 2 days
Text
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— common ground [into the fire, part iii]
part i | part ii | masterlist
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 4k
tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, sex for favors, 1 spank, sub/dom elements, light degradation, use of chems, shotgunning chems, riding, PiV, canon-typical violence and death
a/n: the scene where he complained about doing all the work had me like 👀 (reimagining), so here we go! 💖
“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”
His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”
“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out. Gettin’ you clothes.” A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”
“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”
(Or - you take the Ghoul for a ride)
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"Fuck!”
You crouch outside as another loud shotgun blast fires - the wooden door next to you peppering with bullets.
This wasn't what you had in mind.
You had thought you'd find a chem station in the next town. A pharmacy, an old hospital. Something somewhat respectable - not standing watch as the Ghoul blew his way through a long-abandoned two-story home.
The layered yelling dies off with each pull of his trigger, until everything going silent.
He finds you there a moment later, still curled in on yourself. A roll of his eyes when he sees you - still unused to the violence.
"It's clear." The Ghoul beckons, "Let's find that station."
You follow him inside, your gaze boring a hole into his back. Trying hard not to look down, nose wrinkling when you almost trip over a set of legs that sprawl across the floor.
A hand pinches at your elbow, keeping you upright.
"What?" He asks, at your expression.
"Did you have to..." You start, as he checks down the hallway.
It's empty - the doors leading to two bedrooms. The bed frames bare and rusted, the rooms already picked through.
A shrug, "They shot first."
"You goaded them."
You could hear him, even from outside. That knowing tone - some kind of warning. A rough laugh, and then the firefight had started.
"We're looking for a chem station, sweetheart." He scoffs, head cocking as he backs you up against the door he just closed, "Think they're gonna share with you like you’re on a goddamn play date?"
"They-" You blink up at him, "They might have."
He clicks his tongue, giving you a long look,"You still got a lot to learn, Vaultie."
A second, before he steps away.
"These weren't those kind of people."
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You find it in the basement. A man slumped just outside the cracked-open door, the weathered lab coat stained and splattered red on the left-hand side.
Anything salvageable from above must have been brought down here. Three threadbare mattresses behind a makeshift wall. A long couch that faces a television that still runs, the picture blurry with static.
The station sits along the back wall. A beaker still bubbles over the burner, the smell acrid. Bottles litter the surface - something being made in a batch.
Your mind is already racing ahead, eyes scanning for things you'll need. Too-large gloves shoved on, disposing of the burnt mixture while you search for an empty glass.
Missing how he angles the couch to watch, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table. That ever-steady wariness waning with your focus, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sinks into the cushion.
You're too busy to notice. Sorting the different ingredients, littered across the counter.
There's an excess of toxic soot flowers, their petals papery between your fingers. Opened packages of Med-X, a spilled pile of Buffout. A jar of acid.  
Psycho. Cut with something else, something stronger. You think the Ghoul was right - maybe you had been foolish to underestimate them.
You try to shake the thought away, as you gather what you need. Antiseptic, from your own bag. Three jars of glowing fungus, found beneath the sagging counter. Ground up and tipped into a dusty beaker, the heat turned down low.
"Can you get me some water?" You call from over your shoulder, a jar held in your hand.
There's no answer. Silence, until something hard presses into your back, pinning you against the table.
It feels familiar, the way his hips nudge against yours, and it sends your mind back. An urge to arch - bend low. Mimicking the days before, where you can still feel the twinge of him with the stretch of your thighs.
"You think you're callin' the shots now, sweetheart?" His voice is low, the brim of his hat brushing your head as he leans over your shoulder.
"No," You squeak - caught off-guard, "I just-, I can't leave this until it thickens."
"Mm.” His hum is low. “Too bad. Would've liked to see you try.”
Heat blooms in your cheeks at his words, that rough drawl, even after the last couple days. A thin layer of suggestion in his tone, as he shifts closer - his chest bumping into your back.
Your mind flickering through possibilities, before his voice cuts through.
“Said you need water?”
"Yes. Please," The nod you give is small - you have to start your stirring over, losing your rhythm, "I saw a few cartons in the kitchen. If you don't mind."
"Polite little thing, when you're distracted," He husks, "I'll have to remember that."
The Ghoul makes no effort to move, though. Fingers wrapping around the glass. His other hand gripping the edge of the table, boxing you in. You wonder if he can hear the way your heart thuds in your chest, eyes fixed firmly on your work.
“Where’d you learn to do this?”
It takes you a second to answer - he’d had never offered many questions. Responses that were no more than a couple of words, over the stretch of long hours on the road.
“Uh, my Vault. We were short on hands, my mother was a chemist.” Your words are slow - a still-painful topic, “Used to make all kinds of stuff. Medicine and… and chems, alike.”
People who left were always brought back. Dazed and half-sick from the world above, whatever they had seen. Left at your doorstep to be patched up, if they made it that long.
You always told yourself that wouldn’t be you.
That when you were gone, you’d stay that way.
“Hm.” His tone flattens, “Wouldn’t have guessed. Don’t seem the type.”
“Yeah?” You head turns, catching his shadowed ones. Leaning into the welcome diversion, “What type do I seem like, then?”
The Ghoul’s eyes narrow, an unconscious flick down to your mouth.
“Trouble.” He husks, with a shallow roll of his hips. You can’t help the short inhale that he’s certain to hear, the way your fingers tighten around your instruments.
“Though I’m still workin’ out what kind.”
It’s there that he leaves you. Flustered and silently revisiting evenings before, a familiar anticipation curling low inside you.
The steps creak behind you as he slips upstairs. Returning some time later with what you need - twirling a dented pot found in the kitchen, so you can purify it. Folding himself onto the couch when you tell him it will be a while.
A cut glass decanter salvaged as well, that he drinks directly from. A rough gasp as the bitter alcohol floods through him. Helping himself to the chems that litter the tabletop - before his feet kick up, the hat tipped low over his face.
You think he does rest - a rarity.
You examine him then - as you wait for the water to boil, and then cool, before you can use it to mix with the other components.
Taking the rare chance to do it freely.
In the Wasteland you’ve learned to stay cautious. That you can’t fall behind. That surely he would notice, if your gaze lingered on him for too long.
But here, time seems to slow for a moment. Nothing to do but wait, as your fingers drift to your neck. Pressing into the bruise, as if you could feel the indents of his teeth.
His presence feels the same.
A mark left on you. Something you can’t help but want to touch, even if it aches. A reminder that lingers, and there’s a part of you that wishes it would stay.
It has you wondering, as your eyes sweep across him. Over the long-faded clothes, hiding rough and reddened skin - every inch of him wrapped away.
If you got close enough-
Would you find that he bore a mark of his own?
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You make enough for a little over two weeks. Carefully poured and sealed into a variety of small bottles and tubes you’ve scavenged, scraping out every last bit that you can.
In the less-than-stellar conditions, it didn’t turn out so bad. The vials you had seen him buy was a thin, piss-yellow that had made you cringe. Poor work to begin with, and that was even before it was cut with more water.
What you offer out to him is thick - a sheen clinging to the glass as it sloshes, when it passes from your hand to his.
Liquid gold, in comparison.
“Mm.” The Ghoul hums - eyes greedy, as he examines, holding it up to the bit of light.
Before they’re focusing on you. Flickering from head to toe - considering - before his legs spread a bit wider. A hand clapping down against a thigh.
The look you give him is blank. A squeak when his fingers hook around one of your belt loops and pulls - hauling you onto his lap.
“You think I’m just gonna take somethin’ you cooked up?” His brow lifts, hands pinching against your hips, “Not a chance, sweetie. I think we oughta try this together.”
The Ghoul’s fingers slip up then, rucking up the hem of your shirt. His tone turning knowing.
“And I don’t think you’ve got enough in you.”
Your cheeks burn at his insinuation. More than aware, your breath catching as the rough tips of his leather gloves drag across your skin.
“Bet I’ve been leakin’ out of you since last time.” The Ghoul rasps, “Wouldn’t want to waste this, would we?”
He’s solid beneath you. Your thighs splitting on either side of his waist, knees digging into old cushions. Close enough to kiss - if you weren’t so certain he’d bite.
Lost though, on how to proceed. You don’t know the rules to his game. Always keeping you at arms-length - wrists bound, caught in his grip.
Would he let you touch him?
He mistakes your hesitance, his brow pinching.
“Spent enough time starin’. Lookin’ like you wanted to take a ride.” Acid slips into his tone, teeth bared, “Change your mind, now you’ve got a front row seat?”
That knocks you out of your thoughts - embarrassed that you were caught staring at him. Annoyed by his assumption. A scoff, as your hips start to move, a slow roll. Hands coming up to rest against his shoulders, meeting his eyes.
They’re pretty, like the rest of him. Shades of light brown - looking like they’re caught the sun, even underground. Thick lashes, above the deep hollow of sunken eye sockets, the split cavern of his missing nose.
Something that had startled you, the first time you saw him. Now, you hardly even notice. And his mouth -
“I’m not scared of you.” You murmur, watching the way his lip curls in a sneer. A soft sound bitten back as you grind down, feeling how he’s stiff beneath you.
You wonder how long he’s been this way. Hard, from watching you work. Waiting.
Another exchange, though you wish you could tell him it doesn’t have to be that way. You had meant what you said, when you had made your offer - even if you mean it a little differently, now.
Maybe you still could.
“You should be,” The Ghoul growls - hands ghosting over your sides, up to the thin cotton, “If you had any goddamn sense. Letting me touch you like this-”
A hand is cupping your breast now. A hard swipe of his thumb against your stiff peak, your fingers biting down into his jacket.
Your hips jerk against his. A soft moan, when the seam of your pants catches against your clit - leaving you clenching around nothing.
“I want you to.” You confess - catching the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, “Told you, whatever you want.”
The Ghoul makes a rough sound in his throat, watching as you tug the cups down to fit beneath your breasts, putting yourself on display for him.
“Haven’t learned, have you?” He warns, his voice low, “Don’t make an offer you can’t follow through on.”
The pinch of his fingers sends an ache down to settle between your thighs, the hint of pain pairing with your pleasure.
Your own hand wandering, wanting to see more. Sliding against a leather vest, the stained shirt beneath that was once as blue as your suit. Frayed, looping embroidery on the faded collar.
Feeling the warmth of his skin as you tug at the snap at his throat. An inch, and then another, before he’s catching your hand.
Dragging it up to his shoulders, fixing you with a look, “You best keep those right here.”
“You don’t want me to touch you?” You ask, eyes flicking down to the peek of skin at his throat.
“I want these off.” He tells you instead, snapping the waistband of your pants against skin.
You have to leave him to do it. Watching the way his arms stretch across the back of the sofa, as you kick the pants off, then your underwear beneath.
Bare again, as you settle. Fitting yourself against the curve of his cock. Leather and metal kissing your skin as you move against him, until his lips are parted with a ragged breath.
You can feel your muscles clench. The slick slide of your pussy against his bulge, barely nudging at that deep-seated ache to be filled.
“Makin’ a mess, sweetheart.” He husks, his hips lifting to meet yours. Gloved hands moving to curl around your waist - pulling you down to meet him, coaxing a lazy rhythm from you.
“Rubbin’ up against me like a bitch in heat. Should make you clean that up.”
It coaxes a whine from you, as you let him move you. The sound does something to you - the layered approval in his tone, the low rasp of his voice. Not so unaffected as he seems, with how hard he is beneath you.
He must see it in your expression, a hand leaving the couch to grasp at your chin.
“You need it that bad, sweetheart?”
Making you meet his gaze, as you answer. All dark eyes and the flash of teeth, under the brim of his hat.
“Yes.” You keen, “I need you, please-”
“S’that right? Need me to fuck you? Fill up that greedy little cunt?”
His head tipping back as he hums, as if disappointed. Each word exaggerated, with his slow drawl, “Well, I’d sure like to sweetheart… but it seems to me like I’ve been doing an awful lot of work around here.”
The hand leaves your chin to drop down. Slowly loosening a belt buckle, letting it pool on the cushions. Your cheeks heating when you see the slick shine to the front of his pants, where you’ve rutted yourself against him.
“Findin’ this place. Cleanin’ it out,” His eyes are on yours - your breath short as he tugs the zipper down. “Gettin’ you clothes.”
A sigh, before his voice drops, “Makin’ you come.”
You moan at that, a soft sound caught behind your teeth - fingers pinching into his shoulders.
Waiting for him to draw his cock out - fist wrapped around the base. Flushed and thick in his palm, inches away from where you need him.
The Ghoul does grin then, a wicked thing that shows his teeth.
“Think you oughta return the favor, don’t you?”
He’s giving you an inch - seeing if you’ll try to take a mile. A firm handle, still wrapped around a fist, but loosening the reins.
Letting himself watch.
“Seems fair.” You manage, breathless.
“Then go on,” He husks, “Show me how you can take it.”
Your hand reaches down, but then he’s clicking his tongue - fingers fixing back on his shoulders.
Leaving you to lift your hips. His cock slipping against your slick core, your teeth biting into your lip as you line yourself up - the rough head catching at your entrance.
It’s different this time. Sinking down on him, feeling each inch as it splits you open - instead of suddenly filling you to the hilt.
“Fuck,” You sigh, with the stretch. It twinges deep inside you, where his hips fit against yours.
Lifting yourself only to sink back down, his arms flexing beneath his coat as he lets you ride him, your pace slowly picking up until you’re bouncing on his cock.
As much as you enjoyed last time, there was something about this. Fully able to watch the way his lips part, hear the rattling groan when you tighten around him.
See the way his eyes skate across the bruise on your neck, only to drop down to watch the sway of your tits as your fingers lace behind his neck.
“Goddamn, sweetheart.” His hand flattens against the small of your back. The other gripping your hip, tugging you towards him, “You sure know how to ride.”
Not giving you time to answer, before his head is dipping. The brim of his hat knocking back when it hits your chin - the tips of your fingers just catching it. Slipping it on your own head for safekeeping before he can protest.
It earns you a sharp nip against the curve of your breast, before his lips close around the tight peak of a nipple and sucks.
You cry out, chasing the pressure that builds in your belly. Growing even more wet with the slick swirl of his tongue and the scrape of teeth - his cock grinding against a spongy spot inside you as you arch into his mouth.
“Please,” You whine, fingers flexing and then curling. Needing more friction against your clit, where your heartbeat has dropped and settled.
Trying so hard to listen, a whine between your gritted teeth. Your tits glossy with spit when he leans back, giving you a knowing look.
“You wanna come?” He husks - his eyes dropping, as you nod, “Only if you lean back and show me, sweetheart.”
Relief sings in you, as you adjust. Thighs spreading, as you grip onto his shoulder. Leaning back until he can watch the way he spears into you. How he shines, all slicked up, with each roll of your hips.
Your other hand loses its grip in his coat to slip down, press where your bodies meet.
Fingertips circle, a low moan at the much-needed touch. Your rhythm grows sloppy until his hands hook beneath your thighs. Guiding you into a harsh rhythm, each pound of his cock winding you higher and higher as the couch creaks beneath you.
“Come on, cowpoke.” He rasps, his hand cracking down against your ass, “Is that the best you can do?”
It builds - your fingers pressing harder against the slick bud. Whimpered noises that are more sound than words, as his thighs spread, feet planting so he can drive up into you.
“I said come on.” He growls, “Wanna feel you come on my cock again.”
Like before, it feels like the control slips through your fingers. Your own touch brings you close to that edge, but it’s the pounding of his cock that makes you fall.
Your back arching, crying out as your core clenches. Pleasure bursting deep inside you, racing up your spine and down to the tips of your fingers and pointed toes.
The quick thrust slowa into a lazy grind. A low “atta girl” that he grits out, as he feels the way you come hard around him.
Eyes dropping from your face to watch the greedy press of your fingers as you draw it out - until his own hand is wrapping around your wrist.
Tugging your hand away as the pleasure still courses inside you, hips still chasing the last ripples as you ride his cock.
Bringing your fingers to his mouth. Fitting them against teeth and tongue as his lips close around, tasting the slick that clings to them.
It makes goosebumps raise on your skin. The briefest thrill of fear. Certain that if you pulled your fingers free right now, the flesh and muscle would peel from you - leaving only bones behind.
He groans loudly around them, teeth indenting your skin. Tongue swirling against your knuckles, his hips rocking up to meet yours.
Freeing you, only to grasp at your hips - urging you to move faster. A loud slap of skin until his jaw is clenching - and he’s bringing you down once more against him with a rough sound.
Coming inside you again, but this time you get to see the way his head tips back with his snarl. How his fingers bite into your skin as you feel him throb - throat bared as he spills deep inside you with each rough jerk of his hips.
A flare of something flicking to life in your belly, knowing you did this to him. The groan he made when he tasted you echoing in your mind, giving you something to keep.
You make to move when he goes still, but a hand grips at your hip - holding you in place. Keeping you full of him, as the afterglow still glitters in your veins.
His eyes are dark, fixed on you. Taking in your shadowed, half-lidded gaze - sweat-dewed and bare skinned against him. His hat, still perched on your head. Looking like it belongs there.
A hand digs around in his bag. Pulling out the inhaler for his serum. Snapping it together without his gaze leaving you.
Bringing it to his mouth after - sucking in a deep, held breath. Those eyes closing with a low, contented groan.
A broad hand slips from your hip to splay across the back of your neck, fingers digging into your throat. Pulling you down to him - just as his head tilts to press his lips against yours.
Just as you soften, he exhales - the RadAway flooding through your parted lips. A stinging, metallic taste of iodine that makes you shudder, before you realize he’s deepening the kiss.
You lean into it without thought. The ache in your gums fading with the brush of his tongue. His grip anchoring you in place as he takes, licking into your mouth while his cock still fills you.
Leaving you breathless. Letting him, as your own arms wrap around his shoulders to keep him close. Meeting the messy scrape of teeth and swirl of tongue. The sharp taste fading, layered with the whisky and a hint of you that still lingers.
Before he’s pulling back far too soon, eyes dark as he pants.
“Fuck.” He rasps - his tongue tasting where yours had been, flicking across a lower lip. Before he’s looking at the inhaler - shaking it for another use.
“Looks like I might just have to keep you around.”
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You make what you can with the rest of the supplies afterward - waste not, want not. An extra stimpak. Swiping the rest of the mentats, keeping the grape and berry ones for yourself. Refilling your canteen with more of the purified water.
The rest of the chems you gather - packing them in a tin. Tossing them his way, a low whistle when he sees what’s inside.
It’s late enough that the Ghoul decides it’s best to stay here, and leave at dawn. Certain that he will catch up to the bounty tomorrow, already sure of two places where he might be offloading the stolen wares.
You don’t mind. The uneasy thought of sleeping in a house with corpses quickly overshadowed by the real mattresses waiting in the basement. Stained but there’s still bedding - patched up blankets.
A fire, that he coaxes to life in the fireplace upstairs. Dinner, roasting over it.
It almost feels like something. A moment you can play pretend - that these walls will keep you safe.
That maybe you could clean it up.
That maybe he didn’t despise you, and maybe he’d want to stay.
It’s a foolish thought, a sigh as you push it from you. Digging a spoon into the rusted can of Pork ‘N Beans you had scavenged - not trusting the look of the skewer he had been tending.
A thumb running across your lower lip, as you chew. Remember how his had felt. Examining the angry marks pressed into your knuckles. 
His shadow crosses over you, then - you have to crane your neck up to see him. His hat back where it belongs, much like your own clothes.
The tilt of his head, as he considers you again. Before his hand is slipping into the bag that slings across his shoulder.
Gloved fingers curling around something - tossing it silently into your lap, before he’s disappearing upstairs to finish his sweep of the house.
It’s golden, in the light of the fireplace. Seems like he’s already done a little looting of his own. A rolled up bag, the tube and needle tucked inside.
And a bottle of the RadAway you made for him.
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save a horse, ride a cowboy and all that 🤠💖 (thank you so much for reading! would love to know what you thought if you enjoyed!)
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onlyhuis · 3 days
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drenched
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member — junhui x f reader  genre — smut word count — 2.4k  synopsis — the pool isn't the only thing that gets jun all wet. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, oral (reader receiving), squirting, body worship, pussy drunk jun, mentioned that reader wears a bikini (+ other clothes), they're so horny for each other it's actually just gross notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks to @onlymingyus for looking over this for me <3 sorry the synopsis is boring asdhgsj i couldnt think of a cooler one. also very very sorry again that it's taken me so long to get to these old requests but i hope you enjoy! please be sure to reblog with comments or send an ask if you liked this :)
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if there's only one thing in this world that jun is obsessed with, it's your pussy.
practically every night he comes home, throwing his bag on the chair and pulling you onto the couch, begging you to let him eat you out, just really quick before dinner, please? i'll make you cum so fast, promise, just let me have ten minutes with you.
most of the time he slides your pants down and finds you already wet, knowing the kind of mood he'll be in when he gets home. it's almost impossible to force your mind out of the gutter when you can't stop picturing him kneeling between your legs, his dark brown eyes turned even darker with lust as he watches your face and every single tiny little reaction you have to him.
it's not your fault that you really can't help it if your mind wanders during the day, sending a shiver down your spine every time you think about how desperate he is for you. he'll never pass up the opportunity to bury his fingers inside you, moaning about how good it feels to have your cunt clenching him so tight and how pretty your legs look as they tremble around him.
jun loves nothing more than how wet you get and he'll clean you up with his tongue, his cock throbbing because he knows you're like this for him and him only. he'll gladly spend hours between your legs, groaning about how you're straight out of his dreams; what other explanation could there possibly be for the fact that he gets to come home to the prettiest girl he's ever seen every single day? not only that, but that you let him play with you whenever you want? he feels like he's died and gone to heaven every time you spread your legs apart and let him spend as much time as he wants in that spot.
of course, he has other favorite things, too. he loves fucking you from behind so he can see your gorgeous ass bouncing in front of him. he loves laying back and letting you do whatever you want to him, pushing his shaft between your breasts and grinning when he covers your face in his cum. but nothing compares to having his face smushed in your pussy, his skilled tongue and long fingers reaching places inside you that you didn't even know existed before you met him.
tonight is no different than every other night that he comes home and begs for your pussy. except this time he's got one thing and one thing only on his mind, and it's going to drive him insane if he doesn't have you right this second.
the first time it happened it caught you off guard. your cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as the drops rolled down his abs coating the both of you in liquid, your legs still wrapped around his waist when he stops thrusting. you started to apologize, until jun lets out a long, low groan and tells you don't you fucking dare apologize for the hottest thing he's ever witnessed in his whole goddamn life and now he's made it his life's mission to making you squirt as much as is physically possible.
you didn't even know you could squirt at all before jun, but he brings a side out of you that you didn't know was there. a side of you so absolutely insatiable, like an unquenchable thirst, and now that it's been unlocked you're addicted to it.
with the rising temperatures and clear, sunny skies that have come after the rain and cold, it's obvious that summer is quickly closing in. it's one of his favorite seasons for many reasons, but the main one is that hotter weather means seeing you in more revealing clothes.
he had never been the type of guy to go feral at the sight of an ankle or an exposed shoulder, but around you it's like he loses all control. the way your shorts hug your ass—jean shorts, pajama shorts, bike shorts, any and all of them. his mind goes blank and all he can imagine is your perfect pussy hidden so teasingly from his view, and he'll do anything to get a taste. teasingly, because you know exactly how he gets and you love to play into it just to make him even more riled up.
you've started buying shorts that are just a little bit too small, just a little bit tighter that show another extra inch of skin. and you grin in satisfaction every single time he tears them off of you and pushes his hand down past the waistband to feel how soaked you are… until he wipes that smile right off your face with just a simple brush of his fingers.
the same goes for your shirts, too. the crop tops that expose your tummy; he loves to run his fingers over your skin, and the short length makes it so much easier for him to slide his hands up to feel your breasts. and don't even get him started on the tank tops; he feels like a virgin all over again, unable to stop his cock from twitching in his pants. when he sees that little extra bit of cleavage sitting so perfectly.
god, he loves every fucking thing about your body. but there is, however, one downside to the summer season.
okay, so it's not exactly like they banned him from the public pool, but they did tell him (in not so nice words) to stop feeling up his girlfriend in the locker rooms, and now he's too embarrassed to ever show his face there again. which honestly is more than fine by you, because if your hand wasn't down his swim shorts jerking him off as you lazily sat beside him in a chaise lounge, then was it really even a good day?
but besides that, the problem is that he can't see you near water without thinking about making you squirt. there hasn't been a single time when you've been out on the backyard patio, drops of sweat glistening on your skin from the summer heat as you hold a garden hose in your hand watering the tomato plants, that he hasn't wanted to push you against the side of the house and take you right then and there. to curl his fingers in your pussy until his hand is more soaked than the vegetables.
or like the time you both stayed at your parents’ house for a weekend while they were on vacation. he'd found you sitting out by the pool reading your book after you've just finished swimming, and the drops of water on your thighs that hadn't yet dried from the sun had reminded him too vividly of how you looked after he made you squirt with his cock. that day you'd needed a second shower, and it wasn't from the chlorine in the pool.
if your mind is in the gutter when you think about him, then his mind is in a place further than hell when he thinks about you. 
so really, you can't blame him for tonight. you can't get mad at him after you sent him pictures of the pretty new bikini you'd bought for the upcoming cruise you were going on next month. but not just pictures of the bikini; pictures of you wearing it, your knees spread temptingly in a way that you knew for a fact would get him hard as a rock in seconds.
he's pissed, but more than that he's needy, because he already had to jerk off in the bathroom at work because he couldn't get his hard-on to go down any other way. his own fist will never compare to how good your pussy feels against his face, so it seems as good a place as any for you to start making it up to him for your bad behavior.
he barely gets the front door closed behind him before he's pushing you against the wall, his fingers clawing desperately at your sides as his lips capture yours. it's hot, he’s hot, and the temperature outside has nothing to do with it.
even the air conditioning in your house can't cool you down as he drags you by the waist to your shared bedroom, telling you it would be in your best interests to be waiting naked by the time he comes back with towels because he's not feeling very patient tonight.
you love it when he gets like this, and you grin triumphantly as you pull your panties off and leave them hanging off the edge of the bed, the glistening wet spot on them purposefully noticeable. you already know that you won't be leaving this room until the towels and sheets beneath you are equally soaked, and just the thought alone makes you dizzy. 
the grin on jun's face is wide enough to rival yours when he comes back to find you laid out so prettily on the bed, on display for him like a gourmet fucking meal.
you lift your hips for him as he spreads out a towel beneath you, kneeling at the foot of the bed with your thighs on either side of his head. just one look at your dripping folds and he's already gone, throwing your legs over his shoulders and digging his fingers into your thighs to spread you apart even more for his eager mouth.
you've had jun's mouth on you more times than you can keep track of, but every single time still feels like the first. no matter how often he does it, you don't think you'll ever be prepared for the first lick, when he flattens his tongue to cover as much of you as possible at once before he begins.
the way he immediately and easily finds your clit, sucking messily before moving lower to slide through your folds, is always enough to bring you right up to the edge, but it doesn't last. it's a constant battle between making you cum as fast as possible, or prolonging it and moving around until you can't take it even for one more second and your orgasm is ten times stronger. 
this time he chooses the latter, but you already had a feeling that that's how things would go. he's focused, honed in on your pussy; he is going to make you squirt all over his face, and if you don't think that's a guarantee, then you'd be sorely mistaken.
it's not the first time you've played this little game with him: sending suggestive photos and texting flirty messages, until you inevitably end up under him with enough orgasms to last you a week. but it's never enough to last, of course, and it's not long before you do it all over again.
he likes to act like he's teaching you a lesson, but you both have been through this routine enough times to know it's the thrill that keeps you coming back more than the need for punishment. you could always just ask him, but where's the fun in that? it's much more exciting to push his buttons and let him take over. it would almost be funny how his reaction is exactly the same every single time, if your reaction weren't also exactly the same. it's a habit you fall into together, but you wouldn't trade it for anything.
jun's fingers slide up your body, stopping at your waist to grab you and pull you harder against his nose. it's impossible not to let yourself get lost in it, moaning and threading your fingers in his hair as your pussy throbs in his mouth.
he points his tongue at your clit once more and he doesn't let up until your thighs start to shake, your breath coming out in shallow gasps. you're close and he knows it, almost even better than you know it yourself because he's spent so much time between your legs that he knows how to read your body like an open book. 
your fingers in his scalp squeeze tighter, pushing his head further into you, and he groans at the feeling. he loves how quickly you get fucked out from his mouth alone, that you’re barely even processing how roughly you're moving his head because your body is on fire from the stimulation.
he'd live and die in your pussy if he could, and that's exactly what he plans to do tonight as his tongue flicks faster and harder. he can feel the wetness already gushing out of you and he knows you're right there, ready to give him what he so desperately wants.
with one final suck to your clit you go rigid and your muscles release, whimpers and whines flowing from your lips like liquid as you cum. it drenches his face, running down his cheeks and his chin and soaking his hair.
he drinks you up like a starved man, like he's been wandering alone in the desert and finally found his oasis. your head rolls back and your body writhes under his hands, but his grip is too tight and he is far too committed on getting every last drop from you to allow you to squirm out of his grasp.
it's overwhelming nearly to the point of pain but you don't want him to stop, you desperately need him to keep going until you're drained. and that’s one of the best things about jun, is that by now he can practically read your mind and he can tell when you need more and when you don’t.
he can tell what you want without even having to ask, so he reaches up and squeezes your hand in his as he looks up from between your legs, meeting your eyes and giving you that look that makes you shiver because you couldn’t imagine anyone else but him in this position. you don’t want to stop, not yet, and he nods at you knowingly with a hazy little grin and slides his tongue right back where you want it.
he’s more than willing to spend the rest of the night kneeling in front of you until you’re spent, if that’s what you want. honestly, he’s willing to spend the rest of his life there, too.
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)
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thevoidstaredback · 2 days
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Tim was curious. Maybe a little addicted to whatever the hell was in that coffee, he's still standing by the point that no other coffee will ever be enough, but that's not the point.
He wants answers. The Justice League want answers. No one has been able to get them. Because Phantom stays in the House of Mysteries, no one but the JLD can actually get time him. The Supers have tried listening out for him, but magic is something they're weak against and therefore can't hear through. Batman has tried to get into the House, but he's been sent everywhere else for his attempts. They would track him down as a civilian, but no one actually knows if he has a civilian disguise. It's very hard to hide hair that starkly white and skin pale enough to be blue.
Regardless, everyone wanted answers and Tim was determined to be the one to get them. Why does Phantom claim to be thirty-eight, fourteen, and eighteen all at the same time? Where did he come from? When did he die? How did he die? What the hell is in his coffee because damn was it good!
Off topic.
Tim had the rest of the Titans return to the tower while he stayed out. It'd be easier to track if he was the only one doing it. Besides, these guys work with Raven, they won't hurt him. Probably.
The fact that Phantom apparently smelled like death was another concern Tim had. Was it because he was dead? And what did Constantine mean that 'the smell lingers'?
More questions kept popping up like goddamn daisies, and there was no answers to clip them down. Tim was getting frustrated, to say the least.
***
Danny made an effort to at least try and help Constantine with the demon problem the building was having. Honestly, it wasn't even that bad, in Danny's humble opinion. The demon was just messing with people, not hurting anyone or stealing anything! He was, at most, planting minor inconveniences everywhere.
That's not technically his monkey, though, and it was most definitely not his circus. He figured he'd offer to be helpful, though, if only so that Constantine would owe him a favor. A favor he already knows how he's going to cash in.
"Why'd you really want to tag along?" Constantine asked Danny while they searched for the demon.
"What do you mean? You offered to bring me along."
"Yeah, but that's because you need to get out of the House more."
"Funny, coming from you."
"I spend more time outside of the House than I do inside." the Brit scoffed, "Now tell me why you agreed to come along. This is demon hunting. You only ever go ghost hunting."
Danny sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. Not that he could feel it, stupid nerve damage. "Deadman's been on my ass about my first trip to Gotham. I would've left to go find some place to crash, but the entire Justice League is also on my ass for some reason! I'd honestly rather not have to face any of them."
"You've been to Gotham?" Constantine asked, "When?"
Danny groaned, "Not you, too!"
"Whoa, okay, okay. You don't need to share with the class."
"Sorry."
"You better be."
"Hey!"
"Now tell my why the JL proper are after you?"
A sigh. "You remember at that meeting when Red Robin mistook my drink for his?"
"Yeah. Hard to forget. You freaked everyone out a little bit."
"Yeah. Turns out they all have questions that I don't want to answer. Avoiding them all has been the best way to not answer."
"You know you can't dodge them all forever."
"I know, but I really don't want to have to explain anything!" he whined, "The questions that they'll end up asking are gonna be really painful to answer."
A raised eyebrow. "How do you know what they'll ask?"
"Because everyone always asks the same things. Worded differently, but still that same."
"Then refuse to answer."
Danny met Constantine's eyes with a deadpan glare. "You're gonna look me in the eye and tell me that the Justice League and their sidekicks will leave me alone if I tell them 'no'?" He shook his head. "Lying's a bad habit, old man."
Constantine rolled his eyes as he went for his lighter, remembering they were were in a no smoke zone and retracting his hand. "Don't sass me, brat. Wonder Woman and Superman, at the very least, would back off. They'd get everyone else to, too."
"What about Batman and his brood?"
"Touche." the man said, "But you can't hide from them forever."
"I can try,"
"But you'll fail."
Another groan. "Can we just get this thing over with? I want to lock myself in the basement and wallow."
Part 5
Tag List:
@zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders @princessbelix @luminanightfall @kgne-k @bianca-hooks123 @reigning-catsanddogs @sassywombatranchhorse @dontfightmecauseillcry @soul-lime @anarinette @serasvictoria02 @the-chaos-goblin-child @confusedshades @caicie @fantasticstoryteller @randomshtickidk @itsberrydreemurstuff
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tofupixel · 3 days
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Okay so, got any advice on making pixel art? Anything at all?
I want to draw two of my characters in a style of the game they're based from, which happens to be a high-detail pixel game called Coffee Talk (for example, this is Freya, one of the regulars)
I don't have much experience with pixel art so far, I have some, but only minor stuff.
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Sure!
If I was planning to do this, I would first search for a clean reference of a character from the game. That means without any jpeg artifacts and not blurry at all.
Then i would bring it into Aseprite (or whatever program you use), take my marquee select tool (M in Aseprite) and select one "pixel".
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Doing this I can see that the pixel is actualy 2x2 px, which means the base sprite was scaled up 2x. So I will go to my image settings and scale the image by 50% (ctrl + alt + i) so I can have the art at its original resolution.
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This is much much easier to work with and study for a pixel artist.
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Then I would do my art side by side like this:
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Studying from the original and mimicing stylistic choices when I can
You could also just edit the sprite (this is totally ok to do as long as youre honest/upfront about it, just like any study. So many beginner artists get started with sprite editing, its such a great way of learning).
I want to make a special mention to this website called Spriters Resource, if you're looking for game sprites (especially retro stuff) you may find it here!
If i don't know how to do something i always go on spriters resource and search games I like, so I can learn how they do it. This website is a goldmine for beginner pixel artists
Feel free to ask me any specifics in the future!! and GL
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melbatron5000 · 1 day
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The Big Damn Kiss
Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.
This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.
I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.
DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!
Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?
Ahem.
Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.
I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)
Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:
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And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:
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And the next:
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And our last Clue:
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With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies.
Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:
One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.
Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?
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So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.
Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.
Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!
Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.
I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.
I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:
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(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)
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My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.
Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.
(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)
What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?
A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?
Oh yes.
Here's Aziraphale reading the records:
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Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:
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And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:
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That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.
That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.
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phantom-phortune · 13 hours
Text
Danny judges the Family Business
Danny: How many kids do you have? How many vigilantes are in Gotham right now?
Batman: ... you know how many.
Danny: Seriously, your grandson too? Couldn't stick to just yourself?
Flash: Can we not?
Danny: ... I mean I sorta understand the clone thing makes it murky water, but COME ON!
Superman: *sweating*
And finally, finally, they have enough of the lectures. They know Danny's identity, they know of his parents, his sister. So they ask.
Batman: Would you not tell your parents if you needed help.
Danny: I chose not to tell my parents! My dad has his own section on the news if he's out driving, I don't want them on my team!
JL: .. What?
Danny: I mean, yeah, they'd be helpful on the government research side of things, but... You guys obviously looked into this, they can't aim for shit most of the time! They cause more property damage than any of the ghosts do in the longterm. My dad would probably shout out my name each time he saw me on patrol. Besides, they've calmed down the whoke vivisection thing, they're more like... safari people now. If the ghosts aren't actively attacking, they watch and make notes to study behavior.
Wonderwoman: And your sister? She helped you did she not?
Danny: Yeah, when I was 14 and freshly dead? Believe me, the moment she had an out we both took it. She's studying out in California now, and she's only stepping in for emergencies. Like, end of the dimension emergencies, not 'Oh I've been stabbed again' emergencies.
-----
I find the idea that Danny lectures the JL about the younger heroes and like, making sure they aren't prioritizing hero work out of duty really funny. This undead boy took up his own duty when the only other option was his parents and their inventions (one of which actually killed him by opening a door to another dimension) and felt obliged to deal with the ghosts for both the living and the dead's sakes. He opened the portal, he'll clean up the mess while keeping everyone safe. Sam and Tucker got to help, but once he got control of his powers (maybe once he gets the crown and authority in a Ghost King setting), he's offered them outs as well. They take them slightly. They step in for the heavy hitters, but generally Phantom flies solo; besides JL business. Maybe Dani joins in, but she's her own free spirit so it's not like she sticks around long.
Danny wants to know that all these younger heroes are there because they wanna be, not sacrificing a normal life because of feeling pressured or needing to live up to the expectations of their guardians/mentors.
And I know the JL care about these kids, Danny just ain't sure (He can glance at the BatClan and just smell the death and drama) - and he wants to be. These kids better have a healthy work-life balance, so help him Ancients.
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grandline-fics · 24 hours
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Hi there! I hope u are doing well, can I request a strawhats crew reaction to a reader who can see ghosts or souls? It can be like their devil fruit power or just something that they're born with. It can be a short fic with all the strawhats or if it's too much it can just be the monster trio, i don't mind either way, do what you prefer! Thanks for letting me request!
DESCRIPTION:  You can see ghosts and spirits
WARNINGS: don’t think it’s too angsty but does mention dead characters. Luffy's is set just before a canon event.
CHARACTERS: Sanji, Zoro, Luffy
WORDS: 1,672
A/N:  Thank you for this request. For some reason I struggled a lot with how I wanted this to go and I hope you're happy with this outcome.
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
———————
You didn’t really know the rhyme or reason for your gift. It was just always something you had and having grown up being able to see and speak with spirits you’d never felt the need to investigate it. Besides even if you were to learn the reason for your unique talent, it wasn’t like you were ever going to seek out a way to get rid of it. As far as you were concerned it was a part of you and it brought comfort to a lot of people once they got over their shock and in some cases heavy skepticism that you were playing a cruel prank on them. 
When you first set foot on the Thousand Sunny you had to suppress the shiver that ran up your spine as you were hit with an intense feeling that those on the crew were connected to a lost one and the weight of their grief was still heavy on their shoulders even if they didn’t realise it themselves. So you decided to keep your ability to yourself for now and help when the occasion to do so arose. As you set yourself up in your quarters you smiled softly, seeing that you truly were brought onto the crew for a reason. Idly you wondered who in the crew would be the first you would help.
SANJI
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Sanji turned out to be the first. You entered the kitchen and smiled in greeting to the ship’s cook only your gaze to drift behind his shoulder. Your smile fell slightly and you stepped further into the room, peering at Sanji with intent concern. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking the chef by surprise as his own smile faltered. 
“Nothing, now that you’re here.” He insisted, adopting his charming smile once more  but you firmly shook your head, refusing to be convinced by his outward demeanour. Sanji became nervous and let his gaze fall away from you stare, finding it easier to maintain his pretence. Quickly he turned back to his chopping board and continued to prepare food for the evening meal. “What on earth would make you think something was wrong?” He asked, trying to keep his voice level. 
“Your mother only ever shows this clearly when you’re deeply upset about something.” Your voice was soft but it was enough to make Sanji drop his knife against the block with a dull thud. He felt like laughing at the ludicrous statement at the same time he felt like shouting at you for the weird joke. Yet he couldn’t do either. You didn’t know anything about him or his family and he knew it wasn’t in you to say something so heartless. Thankfully he didn’t need to demand you explain yourself because you proved your honesty immediately. “You have her eyes and smile, kind and comforting. She worries when you get like this, hiding how you truly feel.”
Sanji looked over his shoulder to see you smiling fondly at something or rather someone beside him. Desperately he wished he could see what you saw, to see her again but if this was as close as he could get then he would take it a hundred times over. “I don’t want anyone to worry, least of all her.” 
“Sanji we all have bad days and hiding that from the people we care about isn’t the way to do it.” You told him, finally looking at his face again, reaching out to lightly push some of the hair from his eyes. “We have emotions for a reason and no-one expects you to suppress them. I’m always here to listen, okay?” You weren’t surprised to be brought into a tight hug by Sanji and returned the embrace, letting him hold you for as long as he needed.
ZORO
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It took some time for you to finally see the spirit attached to Zoro’s heart with enough clarity to take in her appearance and hear her. It didn’t surprise you that this one took longer, Zoro’s personality never came across as being someone who clung to the past and let it cloud his vision but on a day like this it was clear even Zoro wasn’t invulnerable to the deepest of connections that you could now see had been cut far too soon. 
You’d wandered up to the Crow’s Nest to both take a break from the chaotic noise of Luffy, Franky, Chopper and Usopp and also settle in for your evening watch. This wasn’t anything new so Zoro only gave you a brief glance in greeting before going back to training against one of the reinforced training dummies Franky had made to withstand his attacks enough for a worthwhile practice. However he wasn’t moving the way he wanted, something was wrong with his movements. “You’re forgetting the fundamentals.” 
Your voice came from the seating and Zoro looked over his shoulder to see you were casually leaning against the edge, looking out at the ocean. He cocked his head to the side and arched an eyebrow at you. You weren’t even watching him, how would you know what he was apparently doing wrong? As if feeling his stare, you turned your head to look at him. “You’re getting too stuck in your head, just take a breath and keep it simple.” 
Zoro had to scoff at the advice. Yes, you were a fighter but not a swordsman so to be told what was wrong stung his ego slightly. It’d be like if he tried to tell Franky how to fix the ship. You seemed to read the offence on his face and it surprised him to see you laugh and hold up your hands lightly in defence. “That’s not coming from me, it’s coming from Kuina.”
Kuina? Now Zoro found himself glaring and tensing out of a fear of his private life being pried into. Where had you heard that name? Who told you about her? Not that he confided in many about his childhood friend. You sighed sadly and got to your feet. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen this kind of reaction and it wasn’t surprising that Zoro fell back onto the defensive and become distrustful. You stopped in front of the swordsman and glanced briefly at the spirit at his side.
“She’s happy to see you’ve come so far but your name hasn’t quite reached the heavens yet. You still have a long way to go and she believes in you.” You smiled and lightly punched Zoro’s arm when you saw the belief and shock appear in his no longer skeptical gaze. “Keep getting stronger but don’t forget her father’s teachings okay?”
“I won’t let her down. I made a promise.” Zoro affirmed strongly and you grinned, turning to go back to your seat when he quickly caught your arm, surprising you. You turned and looked at him questioningly. “If she’s still here do you…do you think you can help me speak to her?” 
LUFFY
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It wasn’t much of a surprise to you that Luffy was the one to seek you out. He’d caught some talk from the crew about the things you just seemed to know things about their past or about someone they knew that had passed away. His suspicions were confirmed when you’d all stopped on an island for supplies and you’d helped a grieving family in a way no-one else could. You’d managed to ease their pain and reassure them that their loved one was still with them and had no regrets. When you were back on the Sunny he appeared beside you on the railings, grinning widely and already bouncing with excitement. “You see ghosts right?”
“Yeah, I see them. Not at will though.” You clarified, with Luffy being well Luffy you didn’t want to disappoint him by making him think that what you could was as easily controlled as a Devil Fruit ability which this was not. Still though your statement didn’t deflate him, if anything he only got more excited and he leaned in closer and set his hands on your shoulders. 
“What about me? Is someone with me?” Despite how excited he was you could sense a faint desperation coming from Luffy and you wanted to be able to help but as you’d already told him this wasn’t something that you could manipulate and command freely whenever you wanted. You looked at Luffy carefully and then around him in search of a presence connected to him. Suddenly you felt a warmth and made out the outline of a man standing behind your Captain and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Ace.” You felt like you were saying it in greeting. You’d known about Luffy’s brother but never had the pleasure of actually getting to meet him. It was almost eerie how both Luffy and Ace grinned so happily and in sync but it was also so infectious. Luffy seemed pleased but then seemed to be eager for more. 
“Is it just Ace? Is anyone else with him? Maybe younger?” He asked and you slowly shook your head with a small frown. 
“Sorry Luffy, just Ace.” You said, disappointed that you couldn’t give Luffy what he wanted and seeing him sigh slightly and lower his gaze briefly made you feel guilty even though you knew it wasn’t your fault. Still though you couldn’t help but look to Ace, silently pleading for assistance on his part. However the brother only smirked knowingly and you began to suspect that Ace knew something you and Luffy didn’t. Thankfully that was all you needed to cheer Luffy up. “Just because I don’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not with you though Luffy. Maybe next time whoever it is you’re thinking about will be there instead?” 
“Yeah you’re right!” Luffy grinned while leaping up onto the railing, his previous excited energy returning instantly. Before you could speak any more, Law’s voice called for Luffy wanting to go over the plan for when you all would be reaching Dressrosa in just a couple days time. 
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