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#not even Graves has a say in the matter
cerise-on-top · 16 days
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Can i request fluff alphabet with graves? I dont mind what letters you do x
Hey! I did the first eight letters of the alphabet!
Fluff Alphabet for Graves
A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
If it was up to him, then he’d go grilling with you every day. Loves teaching you how to barbecue, telling you about how hot the grill should be, what its components are, how long the meat and sausages should be on the iron, that sort of stuff. Graves also loves inviting his Shadows to a barbecue as well. That way he gets to unwind with you and them and you get to know the people he works with. Those are the small celebrations he looks forward to the most.
B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
On the one hand, he loves the fact that you’re independent and can go a long time without him. It’s necessary since he’s away a lot of the time. On the other hand, he does love how dependent you can be on him. Even just the small stuff gets to him, such as you having forgotten your wallet and wanting some ice cream, or you leaning into him for comfort when you’re watching a scary movie together. Yes, he loves you, but he also loves it when you need him. You’re his world, and he’s yours. He’s the big, strong man in your relationship and he’ll protect you from everything there may be.
C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
I feel as though he’d try to give you some unsolicited advice. You’re more than welcome to tell him to shut up, though. But other than that, he’ll try to crack some jokes here and there to get you to smile again. Also not above cuddling you and holding you close to make you feel protected and loved. Your panic attack wouldn’t be the first one he’s experienced, in all honesty. Sometimes, he helps with calming down his Shadows. Will calmly talk to you, play some games to help you get your mind off things as well. Will breathe with you too, if you’re okay with that.
D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
If it was up to him, then you’d be living on a ranch together. He grew up on one in Texas and sometimes wants to go back to that life. Just you being surrounded by cattle, sheep, horses and other kinds of animals. You’d have a nice German shepherd together and would tend to the animals together. Of course, he wouldn’t give up his PMC either, but he can dream about that sort of future. He doesn’t think it would ever become reality anyway. However, as long as he gets to spend his future with you, he’s happy.
E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
He leans more towards being the dominant person in your relationship, but he can be passive at times as well. Usually has his hand on you somewhere as well as an act of dominance. Loves having you sit on his lap too, sometimes even in public when there are no chairs. People should know that you’re together and that he’s the one protecting you. He’s more than happy to consider your suggestions, but it’s usually him who decides where you end up going. Especially if you’re indecisive.
F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
He’d be somewhat petty and resentful, but he wouldn’t let it out on you. He wouldn’t really let it out on anyone, he’s far too mature for that. However, you’d have to apologize to him for him to forgive you. As long as you’re being nice about it, he will. It’s rare for him to apologize unless he’s truly hurt you. When he was in the wrong about some fact he’ll usually ignore it. When he fights he gets a bit louder, his accent becomes a bit stronger, but that’s it. He won’t call you anything mean, but it will be known that he’s upset with you.
G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
He’s pretty grateful. Not as much as other people, though. He doesn’t always consider everything you’re doing for him. Not that he takes it for granted either, far from it, but he just doesn’t always think when he doesn’t need to. However, generally speaking, he is grateful for what you do for him. Will show it by either taking you on a nice date to somewhere you’ve always wanted to go, or by taking care of your home in your stead for a while. You, too, deserve to have a day off from it all, after all.
H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
There are plenty of things he doesn’t tell you. Sure, it may seem like he’s very open about his job, but you’ll always get the feeling he’s not being entirely honest with you. However, aside from job related things, he’s a very honest man. While he may sugarcoat some things for you sometimes, he will tell you pretty much everything. You can ask him about any personal detail and there’s a good chance he’ll tell you about it. In fact, I encourage you to do so, Graves enjoys talking about himself to you. Ask him about his plans for you and him and he’ll get quite sappy too and won’t stop talking for an hour.
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starlooove · 2 days
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I’m trying not to be a hater but that tiktok and comment section pissed me off so bad.
#the way the fics end in Bruce saying sorry and everyone coddling tim and tims like ‘well I was just a placeholder 🥺’#the fun part about tim is that he made grown ass decisions at a little ass age that literally everyone told him would turn out bad#and then it turned out bad and he knows he dug his own grave so he just has to pretty it up as best as he can#and if he could go back in time he would do that shit again BECAUSE HE LIKES IT! BECAUSE ITS EXCITING! BECAUSE HE WANTED TO BE ROBIN#that Robin is a job shit is a lie he told himself that literally nobody around but YALL the stupid ass audience believed#that’s like the crux of him I think#lying to himself to get the job done because he can’t let his emotions get in the way but unfortunately that’s not how it works#and when he realizes that he gets pissed at everyone else for not letting it work and himself for not making it work#he somehow thinks that he can remove this attitude as tim Drake when Robin is the crutch tim Drake leans on in adulthood#which is an issue because now everyone around him is moving and he’s still stuck at 14 knocking on dicks door and hoping that he’ll have to#make use of the suit he brought with him. not because he’s excited or anything but just in case#his friends and family died and came back Gotham gets destroyed every other day and rebuilt every other week everything keeps changing but#nothing is and he’s stuck in that cycle and maybe it’s his fault for not letting things rest but he refuses to accept that because he’s GOOD#as Robin he does excellent work and always has and nothing will change that not even a new Robin. his friends are all making names for#themselves and he’s still stuck under Bruce’s cape fighting a teenager to be robin.#THATS whats fun about tim#the writing is stuck rn I’ll give u that but the next move should be an acknowledgment of that#tim doesn’t wanna peak in high school so he has to move on but he doesn’t know how and matter of fact doesn’t know why! nothings been this#permanent before (<-LYING!)#but no whatever everyone hates him realizes they’re wrong and he leaves Gotham bc he deserves better but comes back bc he’s so nice. ok.
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soulsanctuary · 2 months
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doctorweebmd · 1 year
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on a scale of 1-1000 how pretentious is it of me to start my hero academia fanfiction with charles bukowski poetry
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thedevotionaltour · 1 month
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in terms of art alone im sorry. im a jrjr defender to my last breath you be fucking nice to him. i dont wanna hear shit❗️❗️❗️
#can someone also get him better inkers rn i am begging. pleading even. HE MAKES GOOD STUFF THEY JUST GIVE HIM SHIT INKERS WHO DONT GET IT.#MY FIRM BELIEF. im sorry. i like his stuff. there are certain things not quite my taste but i think he does good overall im a fan. BE NICE#static.soundz#sorry that last post was so directly inspired by seeing someone go can u guys be nice he is on a fucking nutbag schedule. which he is.#i dont think some people understand the insanity of comic production. and how much it takes a toll on you.#many have said and i will say it too: comics is a killing industry. it is a beautiful fun job. it is fulfilling. it will also destroy you.#the most common and easiest to use example is in fact the manga industry. they want chapters in a week. 20 page type chapters in a week.#A WEEK!!! and currently look at things like webtoon as well which also expect the same amount of pages. in a week. an issue in a week#is an insane demand. it is an unreasonable demand. it is scheduling that leads you to a crash and burnout and health issues#because it is fully finished polished pages. as much as i poke and complain about how some things look there#i am also highly aware of production schedules. even if some styles are not my taste that still doesnt mean it isnt insane work#and it's the same in american big industry comics too. it isnt weekly demand the way those are. but it's still an intense schedule#you are working on pages and can get behind years before those comics even hit shelves.#and as it becomes more individualized too as we lose the team element and work becomes more one person doing all pencils and inks#that schedule is a lot. it just is. it doesnt matter if theres more time in comparison to other parts of the industry#the point is that it is all very demanding and exploitative. there is a drive yourself to your grave mentality here and i've had ppl try#to shove that mindset onto my and my peers which is the worst thing possible to encourage. highly alarming and disheartening to encourage#impressionable students already so worried about making it to drive themselves to an early grave. abuse substances to get through work.#work excessive hours while you still can because when you hit your 30s youre gonna lose that ability#become bitter and prepared for rejection as opposed to success because this industry sucks!#it's just such an unhealthy depressing mindset. i've had more artists preach the exact opposite as that and more ppl have been trying to#shift over to valuing your time and health. but still a lot of people are in that other mentality. and it's very very very sad.#i am only a student doing very low stakes homework for classes. i have no industry experience. and i still get it taken out of me#to do fully fledged out pages in my style in one week. this is also just a thing for me bc certain personal factors just make it hard#but still. comics are fun. they are fun. they are fulfilling. they will lead you to so many fucking issues if you are not highly careful#there is a reason why so so so many fucking comic artists have very well known issues. why you hear about so many ppl with substance issues#artists with very poor mental health. when you are in comics this is how it is.#i am glad there has been a big shift in recent years towards taking care of yourself as an artist. and that more ppl try to value it so tha#things can hopefully change at large in a broader sense. but please remember. we are an exploited chew up spit out industry too.
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churipu · 2 months
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STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing, mentions of death, gojo being sad and angry, 2006 gojo geto shoko.
note. for some reason i feel angsty today and i just saw this prompt on pin, just had to write it lol.
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gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call — your very last call.
"i could've fuckin' saved them, suguru." gojo blankly stared at the ceiling, his head thrown back onto the couch's rest; he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. it was as if his motoric abilities had just stopped all of a sudden.
"satoru . . ."
"i could've fuckin' saved y/n." the white haired male mumbled out, his face scrunching in frustration.
gojo has dealt with death. a lot. the concept of death isn't a stranger to him anymore, not in this world — and to think that he'd actually be alive to experience deaths of his loved ones, thinking he could have done so much more made him hate himself.
god, gojo hated crying in front of other people. the aura in the room was palpable. nobody spoke —nobody dared to speak— and the only sound resounding was the vague ticking belonging to the clock hanging on the wall.
"i could've fuckin' saved them," the male repeated for the third time, his voice breaking that he had to inhale sharply to stop himself from breaking down right there.
gojo pushed himself up, placing his palms above his eyes, pressing down on them harshly; he lets out a loud sigh, "where the fuck did it all go wrong?"
"y/n was killed in action . . ." god, gojo wanted to rip his hair out when yaga called him in privately to say that. the male had lost count of how many times the statement repeated in his mind.
frankly, it's haunting.
out of all the news he could have received today, he never expected to hear your death lulling into his eardrums. so soon. so many things swirling in his mind all at once that even he, deemed the strongest, felt the sensation of losing. he felt weak.
"hi, 'toru — you're probably busy since my call went straight to voice mail, but 'm just saying . . . i love you, and i miss you. so much." there was a slight pause and your breathing shallowed into the mic, every single detail in your last moments were graved in that file, "'m not sure if . . . i'll be back as soon as i promised, but, i just want you to know that whatever happens. happens."
there was a slight static before your soft voice recoiled back into the mic, "i've never broken any promises to you, but this might be the very first time — and just know that i've never wanted to do this, i fucking hate myself for this," your voice broke slightly, "'m bleeding. a lot. but 'm trying to stop it just like how ieiri taught me. and i think 'm doing shit at it . . . i don't know what happened, and how it happened; but 'm not doing okay."
"i don't want to die, 'toru." you whispered into the mic, hoarse and weak — feeling the life drain out, "i really don't want to die . . . i have so many things i want to do with you, and suguru, and ieiri . . ." you murmur out, inhaling sharply but it all ended up with you coughing out in pain.
"remember that time i said i wanted to open a pet hotel . . ? i don't know if you think i was joking, but i was really serious about opening one," you began to mumble out, all in random directions — none of your words make any sense anymore, and you could barely keep yourself awake.
"i don't want to die, please," you pleaded, desperate for life. no matter what you did at this point — the light inside of you was almost out, and you can't do anything about it, "fuck. i hate this. so much, 'toru."
"i want to see you again. i miss you. i miss you so so much," you softly murmur out, " . . . i love you. i love you so much, satoru."
and everything ended right after. including you.
gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call. your. very. last. call.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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immortal-cataclysm · 1 year
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thinking abt words fail from dear even hansen in relation to victor brb i need to explode
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feyascorner · 2 months
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“I love you.” The first time he says those simple three words, he doesn't mean it. Not really. And he knows you're aware of it too, with the stern glare you give him in response to his smug grin. He's teasing you—or, it looks that way anyway. In reality, he hopes that there's a glimmer, a sliver of your heart that welcomes his enticing and open arms. It’s routine. A habit. It feels more natural to lure you in with songs of promises than to simply tell you what he needs. He hopes you take his hand and ignore the sharp nails digging into your skin. He hopes you fall.
“I love you.” The second time is months later. He thinks he might genuinely mean it this time, considering how heavy his heart feels in his chest as the words leave his lips. But it’s hesitant. You can tell. And ever so patient, you only smile at him, taking his hand this time to squeeze it gently. Ah, that feels nice. Does he love you? Have you grown on his cold, dead heart? The fact that he doesn't want to recoil from your touch is enough if an answer..
“I love you.” The third time is at his grave. He’s confident now. Feeling. Wanting. He wishes he could hold your fingers against his skin forever. He doesn't want to even let go, because he fears you might vanish into thin air, like every other caring thing in his life. You're good. Understanding. Nothing like him. You deserve better than him. But he's always been a selfish man, and even though your presence urges him to be better, he remains selfish when it comes to you. He doesn't--no, he won’t lose you.
“I love you.” He’d feared he would never get to say the words again. He had faith in you of course, but an Elder Brain is no easy feat to defeat. But as he watches the brain sink into the darkest depths of the sea, the others cheering behind him, he feels the sun begin to prick at his skin again. It stings. Gods, does it sting. For a moment, he wonders if he should even run. He's had a taste for the sun kissed glow and he's not sure if he wants to part ways with it if it means he’ll rot away in the shadows forever. But when he feels you hurriedly toss a cloak over his shoulder, covering his face with the hood just enough for him to meet your eyes, you offer him something he doesn't want to ever imagine himself without again. Something he’s still in disbelief he has. Someone to worry for him.
I love you, I love you, I love you. As years pass, the words become more frequent, yet they never lose their weight, no matter how they're said or when. It’s funny, really, how he'd almost feared saying the same exact words just a few decades ago. To Astarion, they remind him that you're still here, allowing him the privilege to let him love you as much as he does.
“I love you.” The last time he says it, whether it be after an untimely death or simply from old age, he’s holding your hand again. He hates that instead of the adoration it’s supposed to convey, he hears more of the wobble in his voice as he realizes his time with you is up. Even though he's said it so many times, he finds that it still wasn't nearly enough. Open your eyes, he pleads to nobody in particular. He breathes. Why is he breathing? He doesn't need to. But the breaths become faster, and he realizes he’s crying too. Curses, how immature. Ah, your hand is so cold, almost like his own. He hates it. Don't be like him. And when he begs, he begs. Squeeze his hand again. Touch him again. Smile at him again. Live again.
Let him love you again.
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inkskinned · 5 months
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you have to be sexy but you have to be sexy in a way that's kind of bloody. you learn this early because you are wearing a ruffled skirt and the snow around your ankles kicks little sand particles against your calves. baby's first catcall. welcome to sexiness! welcome to the eyesore of your own body!
you have to be sexy like high heels. like sculpted eyebrows. like lean stomach and highly treated hair. you have to be sexy like youth is sexy, which means you have to be sexy like boxtox and plastic. a 30 year old can be sexy but she's not going to be bloody, and they like the bloodiness of it. a 30 year old is sexy when she is a whiskey glass and a wooden desk.
but you need to be sexy like an open mouth. you need to be sexy like a bitten apple. like plucked skin and white-knuckling the waxing kit.
so sex is a performance, not an enjoyment. for a while, you just assumed everyone else was also in on the joke - nobody actually likes sex that much, right? like, some men probably do, but why would you? it is like a gender - your gender is sexy. your gender is the performance of sex. you are thigh highs and garter belts. which, to be fair, do make you feel sexy.
part of what does make sex good is that you can tell that other people want you, which means the performance of sexiness is both bloody and wanted, which is good, which means you are winning at having a body. being wanted is the prize. being wanted is the thing you are searching for, not hope. you think you are looking for a soft grave in easy loam, but that is bloody but not sexy. to be sexy you must be bloody like a red open sign. bloody like a handprint. this will make you wanted.
any wanted or unwanted body is subject to supply and demand, which is to say that the more demand, the better you are valued. you must be highly demanded to be valued. this is stated in matter-of-fact by some men. sometimes it is a priest that says it, and sometimes it is a podcaster, and sometimes it is the 45th president of the united states of america.
(if you do not have any experience with being told your value, i want you to grab the nearest bird to you and i want you to crush it into a thin paste in your hand. spit into the center, and then hold your fingers closed tight around it for days and days, long after the rot has set in. feel bones itch inside of your fist. this is only a fraction of what it actually feels like, but it will suffice for a moment.)
good sex feels like you have earned their desperation. you have earned your own value. for a while you operated under the understanding that everyone knew about the power structure, even him. that their desire to take you - the violence of it - means that you must desire to be caught. little prince, guardian fox - you would rather have cut your own arm off. you liked the secret, cunning little voice you keep tucked into a box. you think you are fucking me. i am not even here right now. you are fucking what i conned you into perceiving. this is a painting, not a person. dominion over the body before all things.
so you bend your body like a wheat shaft and learn the steps so perfectly that it almost seems graceful. (if you do not have experience faking your own connection to your body and sexuality, cut each of your articles of clothing just a little bit incorrectly. pour fishbones into each of your meals. this way, you will experience the average noon on a tuesday.)
you have to be sexy like light spilled over a desk, but not desperate. not a noose. you can't be sexy like an electric guitar, you are the acoustic. you have to be on top of the bull but you can't have control over the animal.
okay, okay. the little rabbit of your heart went to sleep so long ago that winter has ravaged your concept of the human soul. there's something very-bad inside you, something that has taken over, a little fetid and rabid animal, angry and hurting and willing to bite first.
oh but even that's a pain that's sexy. open your mouth. be careful not to let the canines show.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months
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Established Steddie, they have been living together for over a decade, did their best to heal their wounds from the Upside Down and learn to enjoy life again. It's not easy but they do it.
When the Lord of the Rings movies come out, it's actually Steve who suggests watching them to Eddie. He really tries engaging with Eddie's passions, but his focus is not the greatest when it comes to books. That doesn't mean he doesn't listen to Eddie ramble about them though - he knows all about hobbits, second breakfasts, the culture of smoking in the Shire...Eddie admires a lot of characters from the books, but ever since experiencing the Upside Down fuckery, he actually admits that the hobbits had a point. Good food, even better company and good tobacco? What else does one need? It also inspires Steve a few years later to prepare a full day of hobbit-inspired meals for their trilogy marathon when the extended editions come out. But this is about their first time watching the movies.
They both go to the movie theater excited. Steve is familiar with most of the characters, including Eddie's self-admitted crush on Aragorn. And Steve can see why, he can see so much good in all the members of the fellowship. After the first movie, he's wiping his eyes because Boromir deserved better. Eddie has a lot to say about what was lost in adaptation, but Steve knows Eddie loves those movies and would cut off his only remaining nipple before missing the next ones.
The Two Towers have Steve rooting for the ents and he feels strangely touched about how everyone underestimates Pippin, yet it's him who gets the ents to march. He really can't pick a favorite character. He can't wait for the third movie.
They go to the premiere of the Return of the King with Eddie. They secretly hold hands in the last row, and Steve watches the ride of the Rohirrim with bated breath. He clenches his hand in Eddie's when Theoden gets gravely injured, but then Éowyn is there and...oh.
He is staring slack-jawed at the scene. Éowyn's large, terrified eyes, the towering frame of the Witch King. Her posture was fearful, crouched, but still she faced him. And something surfaces in his head, something he's long forgotten.
He's unusually queit when they come back home, he still loves the rest of the movie, almost cries at "my friends, you bow to no one,", then definitely cries at Frodo leaving the Middle Earth. But there is still that something and Eddie can sense it. When they're falling asleep together, Eddie finally asks him. And Steve's had enough time to process what he felt.
"When Éowyn faced the Witch King...it reminded me of what it felt like. I mean, for the first time. I know it's stupid because saw so much unnatural shit, but...it's the first time that I have hard time forgetting," he admits quietly. "She reminded me of me in 1983 so much. I had no clue what I was getting myself into. I thought I'd do the right thing, but then I had a gun pointed at me, they both had blood on their hands...and then it appeared."
Eddie doesn't speak, he only holds Steve closer.
"It was so tall. I remember that petal-like mouth, those teeth, but mostly...I remember the crippling fear. I felt absolutely terrified. I couldn't move. There was even a moment when I thought of running away, but...I couldn't leave them there. Seeing someone go through something similar and being praised for being a hero...it makes me think. I used to be so ashamed for freezing in that moment. For even considering running away. But Éowyn...she was like me." There's awe in his voice and warmth, relief. "She had no idea what she was getting into. She froze. She didn't do everything perfectly and gracefully like Legolas or something, but when it mattered...she did what she had to."
He holds Eddie tighter and asks, almost shyly: "Will it offend you that I think she's my favorite character? Not Aragorn or Sam?"
Eddie just shakes his head and drops a kiss to Steve's hair. "Nah. She suits you well. And you're both amazing."
And if it becomes a silly endearment in their household, that Steve is sometimes called the Shieldmaiden of Hawkins? ("I'm not a maiden, Eddie!" "I'm not calling you a shieldboy or shieldbachelor, Steve!") Then Steve feels a hint of something that he thought he'd renounced, but now, for the first time he feels it's deserved - pride.
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Mafia au with Price perspective
Content: Implied Violence
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John, for the life of him, can’t believe he ever ran SpecGru without you.
It’s a hit to his pride to admit it, certainly. That an outsider has discovered a small conspiracy within his own organization less than three months into employment. That, apart from even that, he’s never been less scattered, having someone right by his side remembering details, appointments, bits of information.
Morning smells like Earl Grey and your perfume now. Steam mixing with whatever you’ve spritzed for the day, his own little aroma therapy. Revitalizing after however late the previous night dragged him out.
In general, you’re like a breath of fresh air. A smiley little charm of color and delicacy in his world of saturated shadows, blood and brutality.
Clean-cut dresses with patterned tights, soft-knit scarves. Lace accents and modest stilettos. Thin, sparkly jewelry and smart makeup. The scent of you drowns out the lingering burn of gunpowder; or maybe just transforms it into something heady.
John lingers on your hair. Smooth ponytails, tight coifs, intricate braids. Likes when it’s loose enough to brush you shoulders and neck, a little bounce to it as you toddle in and out of his office.
You’re gorgeous, he knows it like a gun in his hand or the stench of fear in the air. Has encountered (and indulged) in more than his share of stunning women. Women with beautiful smiles, and bright laughter, and sweet voices. Cunning women, too. Women who could outfox all but his best on any given day.
You have all of that in spades, though you’re not the first.
The difference, he thinks, is your sincerity. You’re never anything but honest with him. Even when you maybe shouldn’t be. Not that you share your opinion every time you have one, but if he asks for it, you’ll answer without pulling punches.
Respectful, always. Polite. But scalpels are elegant tools as dangerous as any dagger. You’re not cold by any means, but you’re made of steel. Precise and implacable in some ways. Have never hesitated too look him in the eye and cheerfully explain why he’s wrong.
That, he knows, is a rare commodity.
“I understand this is time sensitive Mister Graves, but raising your voice is not going to open Mister Price’s schedule.”
Your voice goes silky when you get like this. A finely draped, overly pleasant “no” in each word. A wall is still a wall no matter how finely it’s painted.
You’ve just gotten your nails done again, glossy wine red tap-tap-tapping over your customized keyboard. Whatever Philip is saying on the other end does not seem to be impressing you. Soap and Gaz are trying not to snicker. You shoot them an amused look.
“Well, he’s booked every morning for the next two weeks,” you continue.
John is not, in fact, booked every morning for the next two weeks. There are two mornings with two hours open and you’re serenely looking at them on your computer screen. He doesn’t correct you, interested to see how this plays out. You know he hates Philip and are gleefully taking advantage of that fact.
“Well, Mister Graves, a lot of people have time sensitive issues to bring to Mister Price,” you explain, a touch condescending now. “I’m afraid I can’t reschedule them just because you have… a trip to Glasgow, is it?”
You don’t sound impressed. Neither is John. You clear your throat, arch your eyebrows at him. Put up three fingers. He nods.
“I can schedule you in on the 3rd in the evening. Your assistant said you’ll be back by then.”
You blink, an almost smug curve to your lips at whatever is said. A pleasant shiver runs down John’s spine. Philip will just have gotten in then - a full day of travel after whatever business he’s been up to will put him at a disadvantage.
“Well, I’m afraid Mister Price’s next availability won’t be until the… 8th. So shall we schedule something for the 3rd? I can always call if he has a cancellation.”
A pause. Your eyes narrow into a mean little smile at nothing in particular. Practically glowing with satisfaction. Without your attention on him, he shifts a bit.
“Of course, Mister Graves,” you hum. “I can forward your people the details. Have a lovely day now.”
Soap and Gaz start laughing the moment you hand up. You huff at them in amusement, shaking your head, then turn to John.
“Was there anything you needed, sir?” You ask, syrupy sweet.
John snorts and finally approaches your desk, leaning his hip against the edge as he crosses his arms. You tilt your head to give him your full attention, a stray curl falling against your jaw.
“Since you seem to be on rampage,” he says, “I need you to get a reservation for Friday at Muse.”
You blink at him. “Muse? Sir, that’s… don’t they book that place out months in advance?”
He smirks. “Just use my name, luv. I’m sure you’ll have the rest under control.”
You don’t look convinced, but you slide your sticky pad over - light purple clouds, now. With a pink glitter pen.
“How many and what time, sir?”
“Six for eight o’clock.”
You hum as you scrawl it down, pretty round letters that shimmer under the office lights.
“Before you go,” you say as you set the sticky pad aside. “I have those inventory logs from the docks - as well as the incident report from security that evening.”
You pluck up a neat stack of papers, held together by a star-shaped paperclip. Already he can see pink highlighter on the first page, a little memo-note summarizing information for quick review at the top. Somewhere within, you’ve attached a pink tab to something.
“I’ve highlighted anything in the original shipment that wasn’t found in the inventory log,” you explain, tapping at one of them.
He hums, skims the summary, then starts rifling through the papers. Will never admit how much he appreciates the thoroughness, even if he’s comb through every detail himself just to be sure nothing has been missed.
“Oh, also,” you add, spinning the glitter pen between clever fingers, “I think we should maybe set up a camera near that back entrance to the warehouse.”
He pauses. The back entrance where they do the more gruesome aspects of “business.” Odd that you would suggest that.
“Why’s that?”
You hum. “Well, I’m no narc, but I heard from someone who works over there that one of the shipping guys smokes weed with his cousin in that area. Maybe someone saw them and realized that’s a good way in.”
You shrug, leaning back in your seat again. The computer dings, calling your attention. John shoots Soap a glance, who nods and quietly steps out. You don’t seem to notice, clicking your tongue at whatever you see.
“Nicely done, luv,” he says, voice warm in his chest. You beam at him, pleased as always when he recognizes your hard work. “I’ll call if I need anything else.”
“Yes, sir,” you reply.
Twenty minutes later, you tap lightly at the open door to his office.
“Got the reservation!” You announce, a funny little smile on your face. “They were so nice about it too. What are you, some kind of mafia boss?”
He chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.
How did he ever manage all this without you?
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utahimeow · 5 months
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cw — reader and gojo have a daughter, established marriage, gojo is sad but reader comforts him
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satoru gojo is not a man of many fears. heights, spiders, needles, death—fearing these is alien to a man who’s looked death itself in the eye and refused to let it touch him. however the words that his five-almost-six year-old daughter just uttered send shivers down his spine.
he’s frozen, eyes wide, face pale. he thinks his lungs stop working and his heart stops beating.
big, blue eyes round as a bug’s stare up at him, oblivious to the implications of it all.
the sentence echoes in his head like a taunt. he thinks he’ll hear it in his nightmares tonight.
then, her little hand as she tugs on his pant leg yanks him back to reality.
“daddy, i said my tooth fell out!”
satoru gulps, gaze falling to the crumb of bone in her hand, then to the tiny gap that’s now in the front of her mouth.
he didn’t think it would happen so soon.
you’re home from work not long later and the girl rushes to greet you at the door, screeching with delight to announce the loss of her tooth to you.
you’re gasping dramatically, gathering her up in your arms as she gives you a gummy smile so wide her eyes scrunch shut. staring at her is like looking in a mirror, a perpetually perfect reflection of you and your love combined into one small being.
“it didn’t hurt, did it?” you ask her.
“nope! i didn’t even cry,” she tells you, beaming with pride.
“oh, how brave you are,” you tell her, kissing her soft cheeks, grinning as her giggles bubble throughout the entire foyer.
she wriggles out of your grasp and then she’s off again, bounding back upstairs to her room to the pile of plushies upon her bed so she can continue to brew up tales and backstories for each of them. now that both her mother and father have heard her big news, she’s satisfied enough for it to no longer need to be on her mind.
you’re not surprised to find satoru in the kitchen, rummaging through the snack cupboard. you are surprised at the fact that he doesn’t turn to greet you like he always does. with a pout, you stride over to his towering frame and snake your arms around his slender waist, pressing yourself flush to him.
“hi, lover,” you hum.
in your embrace, satoru becomes lighter. the tension in his hard muscles lifts, his shoulders dropping, his back shedding the weight of the world.
“hi, pretty,” he replies, uncharacteristically quiet, yet somehow his voice still drips with affection for you.
“what’s the matter?” you ask him. you’re well aware of your husband’s melodramatic nature, and it’s because of that that you don’t find yourself worrying over his state of despair. still, you’re rather filled with a curiosity—what minuscule nonsensical issue has him down today? did they discontinue his favourite kitkat flavour?
hands migrating up his torso and finding his chest, you squeeze your fingers into the fat of his pectorals. in the blink of an eye, satoru is facing you and his cold hands have grabbed hold of your wrists. he grins down at you softly, amused by your antics as always, but you blink again and his face drops, growing almost grave.
“talk to me,” you urge, prying. his soft grasp leaves your wrists, moving to envelop your hands which drown in his. he brings them to his lips, kissing at your fingertips, making your heart beat in your ears and your face grow hot. it’s strange to think he once shrivelled away from your affection, convinced he was not worthy of it.
“how was work?” he asks.
“fine. good. same as always,” you tell him. “but you’re avoiding my question. and your feelings.”
he shakes his head, a child through and through. “tell me about your day.”
“satoru,” you say, stern, and it feels like you’re scolding your daughter for not listening to you. “i hate it when you’re… off like this.”
his eyes pierce through yours then, filled with unspoken apology. then, he exhales, long and hard, a sigh that’s heavy with weariness. for you, he’s learned to surrender.
“our daughter losing her tooth today made me realise that she’s getting older and i can’t stop it,” he admits.
you sigh along with him, half relieved that your conscience had been right in believing that it wasn’t anything serious. well, in the sense that no one had died. the rest of you knows he’s not being irrational. since becoming a father, and even before that, when having children was just a distant fantasy for him, an anxiety had lived inside of him. an anxiety of fucking up, of being inherently unsuited to fatherhood, of the idea that she may suffer the consequences of him being her father.
and now, a new anxiety sprouts.
“true, but we get to watch her grow, satoru. don’t you think that’s amazing?”
he stays silent, mouth forming an absentminded pout.
“i just keep thinking about when she was a baby… how tiny she was, how she would waddle around, and drool on my chest. soon she won’t be my little girl anymore, you know?”
“satoru,” you say firmly. your hands curl around the back of his neck, scratching at the snowy hairs of his undercut. “she’ll always be your little girl. i know that because she’s your whole world, and you’re hers. she may never be that little baby again, but she’ll never be as little as she is now either, so love and cherish her now instead of moping about the inevitable passage of time.”
satoru smiles a dopey smile at you, the same one his daughter has.
“i’m so glad i married you,” he says. his hands are warm now as they settle on your lower back, dipping down, down, down.
you roll your eyes at him, opening your mouth to reply with something witty, but he beats you to it.
“i’m being serious now, baby. you always know what to say when i’m being stupid.”
“when you’re being overdramatic, you mean,” you say, grinning playfully.
“hey, it just shows that i care, doesn’t it?”
you pull him down to your face by his neck and kiss him, moulding your lips against his, tender and warm and home. it’s not just his thoughts that melt away when he kisses you, it’s his entire head, until all that’s left is a man with nothing but his wife on his mind, heart beating for no reason other than to keep him alive so that he can keep thinking about you.
briefly, you pull away, in spite of how he chases your lips with his, because he could kiss you until the end of time and you could do the very same, but there’s something weighing on your mind suddenly.
“if you want a second baby i can make that happen, by the way,” you tell him, your hips pressing against his.
“oh, now you want another one? but every time i ask for one i get an earful? heh,” he says, quirking a brow, but unfortunately for him he’s hard in his pants in an instant.
“yeah, but now i feel bad for you.”
“babe, i don’t want a kid out of pity!”
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Text
The One That Got Away
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No matter how long you stared down at his face, Annabeth, Percy, and Grover standing over you, all in silence, you couldn't stop.
Luke, sitting right there after so long, was gone. Your hand was on his cheek, running circles over and over again as if some ritual to wake him up.
But that wouldn't work.
Luke was gone. Luke would never wake up. Your Luke, your boyfriend, and best friend, has helped you defeat Kronos, only to leave you once more after.
You stifled another sob at the thought. Muttering small “Oh, Gods.”, “I'm sorry”’, and “Luke, please.”
Grover, Annabeth and Percy could only stand over you in silent support as you mourned.
You'd been against Luke for years. After loving him for as long as you can remember, that wasn't enough to stop him from going to Kronos, that wasn't enough to get him back.
You mourned your relationship. You mourned a future he promised. You mourned him.
The Gods all arrived moments later, their footsteps thundering into the throne room as they came in fully fledged in their battle armor.
They only found five teenagers, three hovering above with their heads hung low, and one holding the dead one as they all mourned over the broken body of a half-blood.
“Percy…” Posiedon was the only one able to speak, awe in his voice. “What…what is this?” Percy's father asked, you couldn't make yourself for the life of you to face the Gods.
You couldn't call that a family as you sat and mourned your own, the only family you've known standing over you as almost protection as you mourned.
Percy was the only one able to turn and look at the Olympians.
“We need a shroud.” Percy said, his voice cracking at his words. “A shroud for the son of Hermes.”
You gave a broken sob at the thought.
—----------------------------------------------------------
After Luke was taken away, his body behind readied and having to pry him and you, you didn't really know which it was, from one another, all you could do was stare into nothing.
Your hands worked almost like muscle memory, making the shroud. You've done it so many times for fallen campers, friends, Beckendorf, Sileena, even Percy at once, and many more.
Your hands worked quickly and quietly, the faint wrestle of the shroud against your fingers was anything but comforting.
Neither were the footsteps behind you.
Even if you didn't look, you knew who it was.
“Well,” Hermes started, his own voice heavy and you could tell
“Luke-” The man tried to begin, but you cut him off just as quickly.
“Don't talk to me about Luke.” your voice could have been laced with malice and that would've been a better poison to the man.
Hermes looked at you, watching you glare at him before he nodded.
“..I know. I know. I…I don't have the right.” the man sighed.
“Yeah, you don't.” you said sternly, glaring at the man through tearful eyes.
“But you do, my dear.” Hermes sighed, watching you look at him with tearful eyes of hatred, but he knew that wasn't just at him. Well, a lot was, but everything.
“Don't talk to me- don't talk about him, like you know us.” you shook your head, scoffing at the thought.
“I don't, and I can say that is a grave mistake on my part, which I will never forgive myself for.” Hermes said, nodding his head as he looked at the floor, mulling everything over.
You scoffed again, a sob mixed into it as you turned back to the shroud, not wanting to cry anymore. But that was pointless as Hermes started again.
“But what I do know is that my son loved you. You…you made him very happy, child.” Hermes said swiftly, watching as your back tensed like another sob was being withheld.
“...no, he didn't. If he did-” you tried to start, Hermes butting in. “My son had immense pride, like someone else I know,” Hermes started, gesturing to himself.
“he thought he was doing what was meant to be,” The God shook his head before sighing once more. “but he loved you.
“...we were fighting for so long, I- I don't know if he still loved me." You shook your head, laced with doubt and worry.
Hermes gave a bittersweet smile at your words. You were too young to experience such a thing. But, that was the life of a Half-Blood, sadly.
“..he did. I know he did. It was-” Hermes struggled to find his words for a moment, shaking his head. “One of the only things I know for certain, about my son.”
“...you didn't know a lot about him.” You couldn't help but say. Hermes just nodded. “I do not. But, I would watch over him. And Everytime,” Hermes could almost smile as he recalled.
“Everytime he was with you, everything was better for him.” The old God said, you didn't turn to face him but you closed your eyes, sighing as you felt more tears sting your eyes.
“I know it isn't a lot of reassurance, my girl,” Luke's father said solemnly.
“But my son, he will be free. And…one day, if you so wish, you may join him, when you have lived your life, had your adventures, and so much more.” Hermes offered.
“And when the time is right, you may join Luke again.”
You picked your head up from staring at the ground, confused before it settled on what the god meant. You looked over your shoulder at Hermes.
“...why not now, if you can give it?” You couldn't help but push, getting a small chuckle from the man.
“I may not have known my son better than you, but we both know he would not wish for you to cut your life short for him.” Hermes said, almost wistfully.
You couldn't help but know it to be true.
You thought for a moment before nodding softly, going back to your shroud. You muttered what you thought was a thank you, but Hermes shook it off.
“You do not owe me thanks. If anything, I owe you.” Hermes said.
“You gave my son happiness, for years. He experienced love, one of a kind, from you. So, thank you, (Name) (Last Name).” Hermes said, and you could almost make a smile out of his face, bittersweet but there.
“Find us when you are ready.”
Was the last thing Hermes said, leaving you to the Shroud, and walking away to join whoever.
You thought for a moment, looking at the man's back as he walked away, then back to the shroud in your lap.
Even if more tears sting your eyes and you couldn't help but sob, you smiled.
Because yeah, Luke was gone, the love of your life, but…you would see him again one day.
You were just setting him free.
You gave a wistful smile, one that Lukes soul, detached from its body and watching from afar, couldn't help but admire.
He was admiring like every other time before. Like at the camp bonfires. Like when he would sneak you out of your cabin into the woods by the lake.
Like when you told him you liked him, and like when you said you loved him back.
Luke wanted to reach out, cry and cry with you but he knew that he couldn't.
So, he would admire you now. Make up for lost time.
And as Luke sat from afar and watched you, a small smile on his face, he knew he would wait for you. As long as it takes
-----------------------------------------------------
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luffysscraps · 6 months
Note
Please I have baby fever! I NEED monster trio as dads headcanons. I blame Bluey for this. Thanks in advance 💕🤞🏾
Monster trio as fathers
Ft; Luffy, Zoro, Sanji
Cw; Fem reader. Nothing else just fluff.
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•Luffy
Luffy gets you pregnant by accident. But he’s not worried about it at all, he’s really happy. “We’re having a baby?! That’s so cool!” He’s very excited to be a father but knows little to nothing about it.
You two have a baby girl. And he’s so happy! He doesn’t care much about the gender of the baby. He’ll love his child no matter what. The second she’s out of you and into his hands he holds her up for everyone to see. “Look! Look she’s here!” He shouts while joyful tears fall from his cheeks.
His little girl gets only the best from Luffy. He bathes her, feeds her and changes her all the time. He feeds her a little bit too much, and she has a never ending stomach like her father. She’s almost always hungry resulting in baby chub.
A giggly baby! This girl loves to laugh! She laughs more then anything else and with her jokester of a father she gets more then enough daily giggles. His stretchy skin makes for a great toy! He can pull on his face and make funny faces. Give her a finger to tug and listen to her laugh as it stretches. And even great to chew on. She kinda ends up thinking every human is like that though and tugs on people randomly. And she’s got a lot of strength for a baby (I mean look at who her dad is.) The force of her tug was enough to trip Zoro.
But once she’s old enough to start crawling and waddling, Luffy’s always active with her, chasing her, playing tag with her and playing with her. Her baby chub quickly melts away with him around. She’s so playful, always babbling and tugging on his leg to chase her and Luffy’s always up for the challenge. She has Luffy’s big wide eyes and looks like a carbon copy of her father.
These two are always talking, like always. Even when she literally can’t communicate beyond a few words and the rest is babbles. He will sit there and listen to her for hours on end and respond to everything she’s saying as if she’s actually speaking. He loves hearing her voice, whether it’s her managing to say ‘papa’ or her spitting her tongue out at him.
He takes her everywhere with him. He’s always holding her close to his chest while exploring new towns and villages. Everyone tells him not to bring her into dangerous places but he doesn’t listen. So to calm everyone’s nerves a little bit, Franky makes him a chest baby carrier that’s reinforced with armor. That only ends up making it worse though because now he thinks he can take her exploring with him. Like this man sees no problem in adventuring in a scary, dark forest where man eating predators are everywhere with a baby. He slingshots back to the ship with her in her carrier giggling against his chest and he feels proud of himself. Only for Nami to hit him and tell him how dangerous that was. The only situation he hands her off to you or someone else is when he’s about to engage in a tough battle. He’s confident in his skills and knows he can win but he’s not taking any chances of his sunshine getting hurt.
Given she looks just like her father, (and the fact he practically shoved her in Koby’s and Helmeppo’s faces when their fleet showed up to apprehend them) the navy knows the king of the pirates has a child. They’ve been trying to wipe you off the map for some time now and the same goes for your daughter despite her only being months old. No matter they’re not getting their hands on her. Luffy is serious when anything has to do with his daughter and if the marines think they can pull a fast one on him and kidnap his daughter, He sends their whole fleet to a watery grave. Even taking out every nearby marine base in the area to send a loud and clear message to the marines. ‘Don’t fuck with his daughter.’
When she’s around 5 the two somehow manage to get even closer then before. With her newfound ability to talk and make sense while doing it. They talk for HOURS. About food, games, books, the sky, fishing, everything. He tells her tales of his adventures and how her papa became pirate king. The two are best friends.
In all honesty he wants another one, maybe two, or three if you let him. She brings him back to when he was a kid and he wants her to have siblings like he did. But then he remembers an important lesson that he passes down to his daughter.
Luffy sits on the thousand Sunny’s figurehead. His daughter sitting besides him and wearing her straw hat that he had passed down to her. The little girl carrying the legacy of the king of the pirates without knowing it. They’re both silent but it’s a comfortable silence. He then looks over to her with a soft smile on his lips, bringing a finger up to her cheek and poking her. He laughs and brings her closer to him sitting her down on his lap. Some wisdom from the past remerges while he watches the sunset with his daughter. And suddenly he begins to speak. “Here’s a little secret sunshine, once you share a bottle of sake, you can become siblings with anyone.”
“Really? That’s all it takes?”
“Of course it does! Your papa would never lie to you! So when you find your long lost sibling. Rejoice with them over sake. Alright?”
“Alright papa!” Luffy smiles and looks at the setting sun wondering what the future held for the little girl who had the world in her palms.
•Zoro
“Run that by me again…?” Just like Luffy, Zoro gets you pregnant by accident. It’s not that he’s scared or anything, you’re the only woman he’d want to have a child with. But it’s just that he’s not prepared. It was something he wasn’t expecting.
The two of you have a baby boy. In all honesty that’s what he was hoping for. You swear while you’re recovering from giving birth you heard him give out a small cheer in trumpet when Chopper announced the gender. ‘Did he think this was a challenge?!’ He’s attached the second he holds him. His son melts his heart when he grasps his giant finger with his tiny one.
Although he wasn’t prepared he’s surprisingly good with a child. He changes him, feeds him and bathes him. Bonding over the little moments like washing out his hair for the first time. You swear you saw tears but this man literally forced the tear back into his eye when you pointed it out.
His son is silent baby. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t whine. He only lets out small babbles every now and again when he’s trying to get your attention. You ask Chopper if he’s okay and he’s perfectly healthy. He just doesn’t show a lot of emotion. You can get him to laugh, giggle and smile if you try but on the day to day he is totally silent.
When Zoro has to watch him, he trains with him on top of him. Using his son as a little extra weight. It’s kinda adorable actually. He’s lifting up tons of weight above his head while the baby boy is sucking his thumb in the sling around his chest. He’s acting so tough while doing dead lifts. And every time he comes back down he gives his son a little forehead kiss.
When he begins crawling and waddling Zoro is determined to get him walking. He’s literally the best baby coach, always hyping his son up for the littlest things. “ ‘Atta boy!” “That’s my son!” “Did anyone else see that?! That’s my kid! He came from me!” Like- calm down he just clapped his hands. He supports his son in every little thing and helps him walk for the first time. Again he sucks up his tears and pretends he’s not crying. He’s so proud of the little guy.
He mostly hands him off to you when you guys are on a new island. He knows his son is safe with you, and with you holding carrying the baby he can protect both of you at the same time. Plus he’s known to get lost and one of his worse fears is getting lost with his child. If he’s lost by himself as least he knows you two are both safe. If he got lost with his child he’d be paranoid for his child’s safety. He knows he can protect him from any physical harm but he can’t use three sword style with him near. Plus he’d have to make sure he’s hydrated, and well feed and it’s just a lot of stress on him. It’s better if you have him and stick in groups when exploring.
When he’s finally starting to walk on his own Zoro buys him a small wooden toy sword. And just like his father he’s skilled with a sword. He loves it a lot, he likes to swing it on anything and everything. He often knocks anyone who walks past him on their legs and his favorite victim is Sanji. And Zoro’s just like “Yes, Yes hit him!” You apologize daily to Sanji when you find your son has been beating him up all day. Your son is confused, Papa says yes and mama says no. So to please you both he hits Sanji when his father’s near and doesn’t when you’re nearby.
Once he’s 5 Zoro starts training his little boy. He’s not soft on him at all and respects him as a swordsmen. Although Zoro loved his teacher when he was younger he just had wished he had treated him like he was an equal instead of a child. So he instructs his son as if they are equal. Most think this would cause him to relent his father but your son has Roronoa genes and it just bonds him closer with her father.
Zoro’s sword clashes against the smaller sword as his son’s stance was getting tougher and harder to block. Nonetheless Zoro doesn’t let him win. He smacks the sword out of his hand and makes him yield. “That’s another win-“ Zoro goes to speak but he sees the slight tension in his son’s eyes and immediately bends down to the boy’s height. “What’s troubling ya kid?”
“I just don’t get it. I can defeat pirates twice my size, Marines, almost anyone, but I can’t beat you.” Zoro hears his son’s lament and it reminds him of a familiar feeling he had when he was younger. And before he can speak another word Zoro leans in and hugs him. “So? What does it matter. Maybe one day you’ll beat me, maybe one day you won’t. Maybe one day you’ll beat someone stronger than me… maybe you won’t. And that’s okay. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and if you want to defeat me well it’ll take a lot longer and more practice.” Zoro picks up the green haired boy and holds him in his hands running a hand through his shaggy locks.
“Don’t pressure yourself. Just worry about what you can do today. Tomorrow will always exist.” Zoro says simply and that calms the five year old’s nerves. The male gives him a smile and ruffles his locks before going to leave the crow’s nest. “Alright now let’s find mama.”
•Sanji
Unlike everyone else, Sanji gets you pregnant because you two think you’re ready for a child. Keyword Is think. “Oh my love~ I’ve prepared the strawberries cream cheese and jalapeños you’ve request~!“ You don’t lift a finger during your pregnancy. Sanji does everything for you and forbids you to go exploring or fight during this time. For better or for worse you stay with the Sunny every time it docks. And Sanji prefers to stay with you every time but if he genuinely can’t and needs to help protect the crew he kisses you like it’s his last every single time.
You two have a baby girl and Sanji is ecstatic. He’s going overboard already, buying hundreds of outfits, toys and baby equipment. He bathes her, cleans her, feeds her and if he knew how Sanji would breath for her. You rarely get to see her and she’s YOUR baby. Like Sanji’s practically raising her all by himself. He does her hair, combing her long blonde locks back into two big pigtails. She looks just like her father, even having his ‘curly brows’.
She’s a shy baby. She’s a scaredy cat, and she cries easily. Sanji’s always there to help her feel better. He’s always there to rock her to sleep, and to play with her to stop her from crying. It takes a while for her to get settled with the crew as they all sorta scared her and made her tear up. But Zoro scared her the most for some odd reason. She starts screaming and crying whenever he enters the room and Sanji immediately gets pissed at him. “GET OUT OF HERE MOSS HEAD!” And your daughter is grateful her father’s there to protect her from that scary man.
He sits her down in a high chair nearby while he’s cooking. Making sure to keep her far away from any harm but close enough encase she falls out of the chair. She loves to sing and babble Melodies. She makes the perfect cooking partner. He listens to her sing while he works and hands off little cuts of food to her to taste. “Hmm this taste good?” He’d ask when he hands her a slice carrot. She babbles happily nodding her head while chewing on the carrot slice.
He’s a helicopter parent. He’s always making sure his baby girl is safe. He’s always checking that knifes are put away, and that she can’t play with anything dangerous. Hell he even bubble wraps some baby toys that are too sharp for his likings (calm down babe it’s a plastic fishing rod). He keeps her away from the railings, standing far back and holding her tightly so there’s no chance of her falling in. The worse thing that could possibly happen to him is if she ever gets hurt. Even small bumps or her falling down breaks his self esteem. “I’m a terrible father, how could I have let this happen.” He soothes her pain to the best of his ability but feels so, so terrible he let it happen.
He’s a picture dad. Whoever let this man get his hands on a camera made the biggest mistake of their lives because now they have to deal with him showing them baby pictures of her. Every single second of the day. “Oh! Oh here’s where she spit out her tongue at her food! And here’s her sleepy face! Isn’t she so adorable!” He gushes over her showing them pictures and taking up their life while his daughter is right there staring at them both. He takes pictures of every little moment and makes not just one scrap book, but multiple. On every island he makes sure to stock up on camera film because it’s most likely going to be gone by tomorrow.
Speaking of which when the Sunny is docked on a new island your daughter is with you at all times. Knowing Luffy’s attraction to danger and how he’s one of the strongest he often has to fight. He instructs you to run and hide in the safest place possible with your daughter if danger arises. He trusts you to protect her but when push comes to shove but he rather you both are safe while there’s danger around. And if you’re threatened, or worse. Your daughter is. Sanji will rip anyone who threatens his family apart and with no remorse. Even women. That’s how you know he’s serious.
When she’s 5 Sanji’s even closer with his little one. He buys her anything she asks for! It’s all worth it just to see her smile. (Nami never gives him allowance anymore since he spent millions of berry on a purebred horse rental for her). She’s the sweetest little girl around, and has a soft spot for animals. She wants to become a veterinarian even. And while Sanji knows little to nothing about animal care, he’s still his daughter’s biggest fan and supporter. But his world opened when he found his daughter we crying, he wondered why but then saw the dead squirrel in her palms. She must have snuck it back on the ship and kept it as a pet, but due to Sanji’s sheltering she didn’t know what was going on. He neglected to teach her about death, he thought such scary things and concepts could wait until she was older but it was clear he made a mistake.
“P-papa….” “Oh come here sweetheart…” Sanji engulfs her in a hug and pulls her into his lap while she cries into his chest. “I don’t know why he won’t wake up! I brought him food and water! B-but he hasn’t woken up in two days! I-I don’t know why but I feel sad! W-what’s wrong with Mr. Squirrel?” As his daughter cries and sniffles against him he doesn’t know where to start really. He stammers over his words before he starts. “Honey…Mr. Squirrel is dead…” “He stopped breathing and now he’s not here anymore. No one knows where you go when you die but he’s not with us anymore.”
“O-oh… well can he come back and say goodbye first?”
“I’m sorry sweetie but that’s not possible.”
“Oh well…. Can… can we die too? Is that gonna happen to you one day? And… mama? And me?”
“Yes sweetheart. Everyone dies. But it’s always at the right time, you’ll make memories you’ll never forget and when it’s time for your journey to end. It must meet its end.”
“I don’t want to die.”
“No one does. And if you could live forever I’d find a way for you too. But for now it’s something that happens to everyone and everything. There’s no need to be scared of it. It’s just apart of life. Don’t worry about it now my love, for now we can burry Mr. Squirrel and have a funeral at the next island. Would you like that my dear?”
The air is quite somber as the little girl processes what death is and that she can’t run away from it. Her tears come to a stop and suddenly she doesn’t feel that sad anymore now that she realizes it’s a part of life. “Mmhmm… I’d like that.” She whispers and Sanji smiles at her picking her up and exiting her bedroom. “Now let’s go find a shoebox to put him in until the next island.”
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prettybean · 5 months
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THEY CAUGHT YOU MASTURBATING (COD +18)
* fuck, I should really write car sex with Keegan
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE
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Ghost
After a tiring day at work, you entered your room and finally found comfort by lying down on your bed. As you settled in, your hand slides down between your legs, feeling the stress gradually melt away. Soft moans escaped your lips until suddenly, you heard someone clear their throat.
Simon's voice broke the silence, “Is this what you do when you're not at work?”.
Filled with anger, you couldn't help but scream at him: “Fucking bastard”.
“Close the door next time.” He told you in response, before nonchalantly walking away.
Soap
"Hey-". He enters your room without bothering to knock, finding you in a compromising position, desperately trying to come thanks to your fingers. You noticed him, covering yourself as quickly as you could with a blanket.
"I'm sorry-". You see his face turn bright red, especially after hearing your laugh. You find him cute, so you decided to try and see how far he would go, pushing his limits: "What? Do you like what you see?" At your challenging words, he leaves the room almost running, tripping over his own feet down the hall.
Price
He has no respect for your privacy. He barges into the bathroom while you're changing, enters your room while you're asleep, and even catches you in the act of pleasuring yourself.
You've become desensitized to it all and continue to masturbate without batting an eye. He loves watching you with a smirk, sitting at a distance, and encourages you with praises.
"Keep it up, babe. You're doing great. Go deeper with those fingers. I'm so proud of you."
Gaz
You've been close friends for what feels like an eternity, perhaps even longer than you can remember. Throughout the years, he has witnessed you in every conceivable scenario... except for this one. Without warning, he barged into your office, catching you in the act of pleasuring yourself with a vibrator.
Unaware of his presence, you continued. You were oblivious to his presence, so he quietly shut the door, allowing you to continue uninterrupted. He stood glued to the door, with one ear pressed against it. He covertly savored your moans and the vibration of the sex toy, peering through the keyhole with one hand between his legs
Alejandro
“Mi amor, have you seen my shirt?”. He said walking into your room, seeing you with his shirt on masturbating.“Fuck, you're really having fun,” he laughed, seeing how you immediately closed your legs trying to hide yourself with the hands.
“Don't hide, love, I love seeing how desperate you are.” Alejandro teased you, spreading your legs forcefully, putting his face in between.
“Leave it to me, okay?”. You nodded, feeling his tongue begin to pleasure you. “If my shirt isn't wet when I'm done, I'll punish you.”
Graves
There were no secrets between the two of you. You pleasured yourself quietly, without any fear of being caught. However, it bothered him. He despised the fact that you were enjoying yourself without him, which only made you want to do it more intentionally. Most of the time, he would catch you with two fingers inside, moaning his name loudly. "How many times do I have to tell you to do it in front of me?" he says sternly, as he removes your hand from between your legs and replaces it with his own.
"Come on, baby, be a good girl/boy and give me another one. Only I can touch you, got it?"
You adored his fingers; they always reached deeper than yours and drove you wild.
König
You were always busy, your phone never stopped ringing: whether it was for work or personal matters. The only time you could truly relax was at night.
You placed a pillow in the middle of the bed and slowly rode it, relishing in the sensation of the fabric against your sex. Just as you were about to climax, the phone rang. You answered it out of habit, and your boyfriend König's voice made you moan even louder.
"What are you doing, you naughty girl/boy?" he teased. “N-nothing”. You heard him laugh.
"Keep going," he instructed, "I'll stay on the line until you finish”.
Keegan
Keegan gave you a ride home like he always did after every date. However, today was a bit different. The man sitting next to you looked even more attractive in the evening, which got you incredibly excited. You didn't want to distract him, he wasn’t a good driver, so you discreetly squeezed your legs together, trying to alleviate the discomfort in between.
As your panties started to get wet, you subtly opened them and ran a hand over your own inner thigh. "You alright?" He asked, noticing your flustered state. "Yeah, I'm just feeling hot," you replied, avoiding eye contact.
"Are you sure? I bet that's the issue, you naughty little thing," he said with a satisfied smile, slowly sliding his hand between your legs.
———
car sex with Keegan here
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fellthemarvelous · 2 months
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Do you ever really think about what happened in The Resurrectionists?
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Aziraphale spent that entire time trying to save Elspeth's soul from being damned to Hell.
Every questionable choice he made was done so because he was trying to help Elspeth and also trying to find new ways to decrease human suffering.
He was working really fucking hard to do his job, but he made mistakes along the way because he is constantly struggling with the knowledge that the rules become a lot more convoluted as life becomes more complicated.
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Digging up bodies is wrong, but Elspeth was poor and acting in desperation to take care of herself and Wee Morag so they wouldn't have to continue living on the streets.
He is the one who encouraged her to dig up another body because he realized that Mister Dalrymple was trying to help teach those learning to become doctors so they could do better to decrease human suffering when it was their turn to help others.
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He wasn't able to save Wee Morag after she was shot by a grave gun, and watched in dismay as Elspeth sold her body to Mister Dalrymple so she could get off the streets.
And when that didn't work the way she'd hoped, she decided that her life meant nothing anymore and decided she was better off dead.
Aziraphale had been spending that entire minisode trying to save Elspeth's soul from Hell, but he ultimately realizes that he made things worse even though he was trying so hard to do the right thing.
Heaven didn't care that he failed. Heaven has already said "we're the good guys, we're just not doing anything to stop the bad guys". Aziraphale was doing the job given to him by God. He made a mistake, but he thought he was doing the right thing because he cares about human souls. He still wants to protect humanity from Hell. That's literally his job.
Crowley saw someone digging up a body in the graveyard and immediately realized he didn't need to do anything.
Instead he watches.
He listens to Elspeth and finds it easier to sympathize with her plight because he's in the same boat in many ways. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't be able to climb his way out of Hell.
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He listens to Aziraphale and he challenges the angel when he disagrees with some of the things he's saying.
He doesn't interfere with Elspeth or Aziraphale though.
The discussion that he and Aziraphale have with Mister Dalrymple teaches Crowley something just as much as it teaches Aziraphale.
Before he learns the reason that Mister Dalrymple cuts open dead bodies in the first place, he's cheering to the idea of more murder.
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That tumor that Aziraphale hugs to his chest is just as much of a learning moment for Crowley. He hadn't considered why someone might have a good reason to cut up dead bodies, but Crowley and Aziraphale both love children and they both just learned that a child died with a tumor inside of him.
Crowley didn't realize anymore than Aziraphale did just how much danger Wee Morag and Elspeth were in from digging up bodies of rich people.
It was when Crowley saw that Elspeth was about to kill herself that he realized he could no longer sit back and do nothing.
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As a demon, it should have been easier for Crowley to accept that Hell was winning another soul, but the truth is that the entire time Aziraphale was working so hard to save Elspeth's soul, Crowley was able to act as a spectator because she was already headed down the path towards Hell.
Crowley had just watched Aziraphale work so hard to save this human soul, this soul who had just lost the woman she loved who was wanting to end her own life so she could see Wee Morag again, and he realized he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He knew Elspeth wouldn't see Wee Morag again if she killed herself because Hell cares just as little about how complicated human life is as Heaven does.
He used Aziraphale's money to bribe Elspeth into being properly good so she could go to Heaven. He saved her knowing that he was offering the win to Heaven just so she could see Wee Morag again.
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It's important to remember that neither Heaven nor Hell give a single solitary fuck about humanity or the complications that arise as life becomes more problematic. Humanity exists within all shades of grey.
Heaven does nothing to stop Hell. Hell spends eternity torturing humans and other demons. Neither side is good. Neither side is ideal.
And in the end, Crowley did what he did because Aziraphale was doing the right thing by trying to save Elspeth's soul from eternal torment, something she doesn't deserve because she was simply trying to survive in a system that has always put poor people at a disadvantage. Aziraphale learned this too. He learned that there is no inherent virtue behind poverty.
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To shades of grey.
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