In one hand, I have my favorite ship that is already canon
In the other hand, I have a bunch of ships that I like, most are kind of canon, and I have no idea who’s going to end up with who, truly
I feel like I’m winning no matter what
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🧡💚
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Transparent version of this doodle cuz I think it’s cute
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two years. Where do I even start with this
I'm not going to try to act like these characters have been with me through some super hard part of my life within the past two years, because they haven't. I've had a normal life with nothing too big happening that completely disrupts me from my day-to-day experiences in the last few years. But I'm not going to let that fact invalidate all the smaller and tinier stresses and spirals they've helped me through. And believe me, I have a lot of those.
They have been there for the mornings when I'd wake up too early and be unable to fall back asleep, the afternoons I spent poring over essays I could've started days ago, the nights I spent stubbornly staying up much too late. They've been there for each silly overthinking session I had, for each nervous ache I got, each stumbled and rushed phrase I spoke. They've been there for when I would be nervous to walk into some crowded aisle in the store, when I would pace around the room because something had gotten me worked up, when I would get so many emotions over something and tear up over it. Every new habit, every new interest, every little victory and small loss... they've been there with me through it for the past two years. And I really don't know how to voice how new and different this is for me.
I don't usually hold onto interests for this long. I'll get into something and it'll occupy my mind for maybe eight months until something else grabs my attention and I move on to the next thing. Any past f/os I had wouldn't stick around this long. Sure, I'd still love the character, I'd still see them as my favorite character from their series, but they wouldn't move on with me to the next interest. And while I will admit that I have loved all of my f/os, current and past, very deeply, none of them seem to really compare to the love I have for my boys now. I remember being so nervous to get into something new because I was worried that I'd lose interest, that the feelings I have for them would be replaced with something that feels lesser and less fulfilling. It sounds silly when I type it out, but it was genuinely something I was afraid of. I didn't think I could ever love anyone the way I love them, and to an extent, I still feel this way.
But, geez, if they were to follow that usual formula, they are a whole 16 months late. And guess what? I have gotten into other things, picked up other shows, other books, and they are still here. I still love them, they still occupy my mind all too much, I still think about them. This silly series still has me in a choke hold after two years and I genuinely don't think it's going away for a while yet. I was literally smiling like an idiot over some cards that reminded me of them earlier, got happy over seeing a picture of one of them unprompted the other day... I'm still so in love with them and I truly hope that doesn't end any time soon <3
It feels so nice to be able to get into things with all of them. It's nice having someone to watch and read things with and getting to imagine how they'd react over things, what things we could discuss and joke over, what specific things would interest them more than others... A lot of our time when we first got together was spent watching movies because I was overly aware of the fact most of them probably didn't get to experience the life I did. They didn't get the chance to have the childhood I had, be it because of the fact they're not even from this century, or because of the circumstances of how they were brought up. I make an effort to try and include them in everything I do, consciously or not, because I want them to be able to have the chance to experience as many things as possible. I even think about them being there with me during classes, as silly as that sounds, so it's been extra fun being able to genuinely get into things with them beside me without worrying about losing them or whatever.
I'm sure I've been over this before, but I've never been this involved with my f/os before. Like I said, I genuinely did love all of my past ones, but that love feels so much more indirect than the love I have for my current f/os. I don't think I've ever referred to a character as my "boyfriend" or my "partner" as casually as I do for my boys. I don't remember using the term "love of my life" for anyone else as often as I do for my boys. I don't even remember being caught up thinking about how much I want to marry a character as much as I have for my boys. This all feels so much more serious for me because of that. So much newer and unknown and just... baffling? In a way? It feels like so much more than anything else from before. As cliche and silly as it might be, I genuinely think they are the loves of my life. I don't know where I'd even be without them. I don't know who or what else could possibly take up this much space in my life, in my brain, in my heart. I just... I love them so much. And I've gotten to do that for two full years. And that's so insane to me.
I've loved getting to go to sleep at the end of my day and getting to imagine them holding me and sharing my bed with me, I've loved getting to go through whatever routines I have and imagining them going through their own beside me, I've loved getting to sit while doing my own thing and imagining them there with me. I've loved getting to have them in my life, I've loved getting to be all giddy and happy over them, and I've loved getting to love them. One year was insane enough for me, but two years is just so much more. I think with every year it'll just be as baffling as the last for me. And I'm not saying this with the usual sense of "if we make it another year", because by this point I'm not putting anything past them. I think I probably will be here again next year writing a post at an ungodly time of night just like I am now. That won't stop me from being so blown away each time.
so here’s to two years of me and these dorks. I’m already excited to see where the next one will take us <3
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I rly rly hope Aqua doesn't 'end up' with either girl, it would be less creepy if the mangaka didn't keep bringing up the fact that he IS an adult and both of them are teens. Like Kana becomes an idol specifically bc of a crush, and Akane is openly called a kid. And that scene in the diner, where he says he used to play around w girls? Amazing, a harem manga where the LEAST creepy ship is the guy and his mom
AKKSKKSKKWK ANON YOU ARE SO RIGHT BESTIE !!!
Ngl all aqua ships have always rubbed me the wrong way and made me uncomfy. Like I know he has the body of the same age as the others and what not but I can’t stop thinking of him as his doctor self so it just makes me incredibly off put. I like his relationship with Kana as friends because I think he does help both her and Akane in his own kind of weird way to grow as individuals but romantically it ain’t there for me
Specially because he kept using them and like idk,,,,,, they both deserve so much better
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okay since you're haikyuu posting on main, i'm just curious: do you have any romantic ships?
I do! I find myself more drawn to the friendship dynamics in the show (as I am with a lot of shows with such large casts) but I have a few ships I enjoy! the ones that come to mind are tsukkiyama, kagehina, and kenhina.
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Hiii! If its no trouble could I have a zoro and reader fic with the one bed trope? The others know about their crushes on each other so they force each other to share a room? Anyway they end up cuddling and its all cute (the others will tease them forever about it lol)?? Thankss
intertwined ribbons
ABOUT
alternate title: opla zoro makes my hated tropes less hated
rating: general audiences/teen & up
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!nami | live action!straw hats ensemble
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k
description: unbeknownst to you, your crush on zoro is reciprocated. the rest of the straw hats take it upon themselves to get you together by locking you in his bedroom overnight.
tags: strawhat!reader, only one bed, forced proximity, confessions, no use of 'y/n', nami is a true instigator, cuddling, soft zoro, humor
author's note: thank you so much for the request and i hope it meets your expectations!! fun fact i actually used to hate the 'only one bed' trope, so i decided to challenge myself in writing this. and i think it's one of my fave tropes now lol
(you have an inner spirit that helps you make decisions except it’s just nami.)
“I just think that maybe you should stop avoiding him,” Nami started. You bit your cheek, ignoring her as you tied up the last of the ship’s rigging into a careful knot. Nami had been going on for the past few minutes, and you’d zoned out exactly three seconds in, when the name Zoro had first been spoken. Because of this reason you weren’t really listening, so you blinked up at her in confusion.
“Sorry? Who am I avoiding?”
“You’re impossible,” Nami grumbled. “And you know exactly who I’m talking about.” Which, well, fair. The math added up: you heard the word Zoro, you stopped listening, Nami continued talking until she realized you’d stopped listening. “Especially since you’re, you know—” she gave you another look, eyes rolling over to stare dead into yours— “Avoiding him.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. Nami sighed, leaning over to tug the rope dangling from your hands out of your grip. You tried to reach back for it, but she didn’t let you. “Hey!”
“Yes, you do. Face it. You’re avoiding Zoro.”
You made a face at her. “I think there are ropes on the foredeck that I can attend to.”
“No, there aren’t,” Nami answered. “Now stop changing the subject. There’s this wild concept called communication. It works wonders.”
“Says you,” you muttered, though your arms crossed defensively across your chest. You noticed the action after a split-second and unwound your arms with a scowl. “Look, I just don’t see the point. And I haven’t been avoiding him.”
You were, in fact, avoiding him. Ever since that dreadful night a week ago when Nami had gotten you tipsy and stuck her hand in your chest cavity fishing for secrets, you’d been avoiding him. The other girl was ridiculously good at prying truths out of you, and during the conversation, you’d accidentally spilled your crush on the Straw Hat crew’s resident swordsman.
You’d managed to keep the secret for the months you’d been together, wherein the unfortunate feelings had developed, and you should’ve figured once somebody knew they wouldn’t leave you alone about it. Because Nami refused to talk about literally anything else. You’d expected this sort of behavior from Luffy, or maybe Sanji, but Nami? The world was more amatonormative than you'd thought.
Nami cast you a look. “You’re blushing.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. What’s the harm in talking to him?” Nami demanded, one hand on her hip as she stared you down. You gaped at her.
“Um, literally everything? One, Zoro can’t talk about feelings or emotions for shit, so when he rejects me it’ll be in the most excruciating, offhand manner that will probably leave me at the bottom of a barrel of rum, two, after being rejected I’m going to have to leave the Straw Hats, three—”
Nami rolled her eyes, looking increasingly fed up with you. “For someone so obsessed with not telling our resident grass-headed swordsman about your feelings for him, you’re talking rather loudly.”
You shut up, snapping your jaw closed with a glare. “Stop it,” you hissed.
“Besides, who knows if he actually will reject you?” Nami turned to work on the next section of rigging, glancing over her shoulder at you. “You’re catastrophizing.”
“I’m being realistic,” you snapped. “Okay, fine. He reciprocates my feelings. Then what? We date, we break up because all relationships eventually end, it becomes awkward, and—voila—I’ll have to leave the Straw Hats anyway. It’s a bad idea all around.”
Nami just let out a huff of breath, the exhale laced with irritation. “Catastrophizing,” she repeated.
“I am not—”
“Sure. Go help Sanji with dinner.”
You gave her an exasperated look, but at this point Nami wasn’t paying attention anymore, so you stormed off into the underbelly of the Going Merry. Speak of the devil, apparently, because once you entered the kitchen you spotted not only Sanji occupying it but also Zoro. He was lounging at the table, swords strapped to his waist and a bottle of something he was nursing in hand.
You averted your gaze from him, head running a million miles a minute. Had he noticed you’d been avoiding him? You’d tried to be furtive about it, but if Nami had noticed, maybe—
“Well, hello there,” Sanji called from where he was in the midst of dinner preparations. “Come to help?”
“Nami sent me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think she’s appointed herself queen of the Going Merry.”
“Oh, she did that long ago,” Sanji chided. “You’re only noticing it now. Pick up a knife, then. I’d like some help dicing the carrots.”
You stiffly moved over to the counter, ignoring Zoro as you went even as you felt his gaze following your figure. You picked up the first knife you found, positioning yourself in front of the cutting board to start dicing the vegetables already laid out for you. Abruptly, Zoro stood up.
“Heading out,” he muttered. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”
With that, he left the room, leaving you and Sanji to exchange looks. “He’s moody today,” you said.
“Probably ‘cause you’ve been avoiding him.”
You felt the familiar pinprick of a blush starting to warm your cheeks. “You too?”
“You’re rather obvious about it,” Sanji said with a raised eyebrow. “But enough of that.” Weirdly enough, he didn’t seem to question why. There was no way Nami had told him, so you were left confused, but no matter. The point was that for now, you were safe.
The hour dipped to evening, and soon the moon was glowing in the sky, a shining beacon of white amidst the ocean of stars and shimmering sea. You suppressed a yawn, busing the dishes from dinner as the rest of the crew got up from their respective seats to dissolve to their own rooms. Zoro had already retired for the night—if you were avoiding him, he seemed to be doing the exact same—so at least you didn’t have that to worry about.
“Ah, wait,” Nami said, after you’d finished washing the dishes and was ready to head out. “Zoro wants to talk to you.”
You jolted, glancing nervously around you before grabbing her wrist. “What did you do?” you hissed. Nami just laughed.
“Calm down. I didn’t do anything.” Off your glare, she relented. “I promise. And I swear it’s not about feelings or emotions or whatever. Even though it’s obvious you’re avoiding him, you know Zoro wouldn’t say anything.”
You were still suspicious, but you dropped your hand. “What, then?”
Nami shrugged, tilting her chin up just so. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.”
“I don’t trust you,” you muttered. There was that look in her eye, the one she got whenever she was thinking of something truly devious. Still, you couldn’t figure out what she was up to, so— “Fine, I’ll go to his room. Walk me.”
Nami rolled her eyes, but she fell into step with you as you made your way across the ship. “You should bring it up to him, you know,” she started, but silenced after your sharp glare. “Okay, okay. I get the point. I’ll stop bothering you about it.”
You stopped by the mouth of Zoro’s door. “Wait, really?”
“Yes, really,” Nami said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossing over her chest. “I’ll leave you alone about Mr. Prince Charming over there. Knock.”
“You can't call him Mr. Prince Charming,” you said, though you did knock. “Prince’ is already a title.”
Nami gave you a look. “Okay, smart-ass.”
The door creaked open before you could give your response, and you turned, heart pounding in your throat as Zoro stared down at you. His arm was propped up by the open doorway, the other hand still clutching the doorknob. “What.”
“Um, Nami said that you wanted to talk—” you swiveled your head towards the other girl, but before you could finish your sentence, Nami was raising up your arm and unceremoniously shoving you into the room.
You shrieked in surprise as you fell into Zoro’s figure, stumbling into him and causing him to lose his balance. Your head shot up in offense, only to see the gleam of a golden padlock in Nami’s hand before she was yanking the door closed.
A dull click echoed through the room. The only thing you could hear for a few seconds was your own heavy breathing and the sound of Zoro gathering himself.
“Did she just—” You gaped at the closed door. “Lock us in?”
Zoro swiftly pushed past you, jiggling the doorknob for a few moments before giving up. Sure enough, Nami had sealed it with the padlock from the outside, so there was no possibility of either of you getting out of the room. You could vaguely hear sounds from the outside—dull thuds and scrapes—and watched as Zoro started banging on the door.
“Nami,” he called, voice dangerously low. “Let us out.”
“Sorry, Zoro!” Your jaw practically unhinged from your skull once you heard your captain’s familiar voice, all bright and cheerful like always. “We’re putting barrels in front of the door, so don’t even try breaking it down. Have a good night!”
“Luffy? What are you—” Zoro’s knocking quickened in pace, his voice getting increasingly louder. There was no response from outside, though you could hear snickers that sounded suspiciously like Usopp. What was going on?
You kicked into action, joining Zoro by the door and trying the door handle again. “Nami!” you yelled.
Nami’s soft laugh came from outside. “Sorry!” she called. “We’ll let you out in the morning.”
You gaped at the door, only aware of Zoro’s gaze sliding down to you as you dropped your hand from the doorknob. There were some more tigers from outside, and then receding footsteps. Zoro tried knocking one last time, but it was evident that the rest of the crew had all but abandoned you.
“Okay,” Zoro muttered, moving away from the door. “I need a drink.”
You watched him move across the room, picking up a glass from his bedside table that was only slightly full. He knocked it back in one swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. “Um, what now?” you asked uncomfortably.
“Nothing. Whatever,” Zoro said, turning to glance over at you. After a moment’s thought, you noticed that he refused to look you in his eye—his gaze was firmly trained at a spot beside your head. He turned away, stripping off his sword scabbard and setting them on the floor.
You glanced around nervously. Zoro’s room wasn’t that different from yours, really—less decorated, but the constitution was the same. There was the bed, a wardrobe, a desk with various paraphernalia across it, and a little couch in the corner too. “You can look through the closet for something to sleep in. I’ll take the chair.”
The words didn’t register at first, and you were left standing there, staring as Zoro kicked off his shoes and assumedly started getting ready to sleep. “Um, what?”
Zoro glanced over his shoulder. He still wouldn’t look you in the eye. “They’re not letting us out until morning,” he said slowly. “You can take the bed. Might as well sleep.”
“It’s your room,” you started, crossing your arms. “I can sleep in the chair. I’m smaller than you, anyway, so I’ll fit it better.”
Zoro regarded you with such a reproachful look you almost wanted to laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Change.” With that, he turned around, leaving no room for discussion. You stared at him for a second before giving up, moving to his wardrobe and opening it up to search for something to sleep in.
“So, uh, any ideas on why they stuck us in here?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. Whatever Nami thought locking you in a room with Zoro would achieve, you were stubbornly not going to let her be right. God, you were so going to kill her once you got out of there.
“Nope,” Zoro said, with such a degree of finality you figured it wouldn’t be safe to question him further. “They’re just stupid.”
“I mean, I feel like they would have a motive?” You rifled through his clothes, trying very hard to detach them from their owner. Wearing Zoro’s clothes was not something you wanted your mind to linger upon. Eventually you found a shirt of his that would undoubtedly be oversized on you, and you hastily changed into it, satisfied to find it draped well to your knees so you weren’t exposing too much skin.
You stole a glance over your shoulder at Zoro, only to catch him in the action of peeling his shirt off. The stretch of the muscles in his back gleamed in the dim light of the room, and you tore your gaze away, heat rushing to your face. “Um. Anything?”
“Nope,” Zoro repeated. Carefully, you closed the wardrobe door, lingering in one spot with your hands clenched together. Once you heard him start moving again, you deemed it safe enough to turn towards the rest of the room. He’d changed into a loose tan shirt, and had settled back into the chair.
“I said I’d take the chair,” you told him hotly.
“Yeah, and I said no,” Zoro said, tone dismissive. He had his eyes closed, and you stared at him in disbelief.
“I’m not sleeping in your bed,” you said, and then, just to emphasize your point, plopped down on the floor. Zoro cracked an eye open and stared down at you. He sighed.
“Get up. Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid,” you said. “It’s your room. It’s your bed. You will sleep on it. If you’re not giving me the chair, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Zoro let out a long sigh, closing both his eyes as if he was contemplating all his life decisions. “I’m not sleeping in the bed, you know,” he said.
“Okay, so neither of us do.”
Zoro’s brows creased, and he opened his eyes to glare down at you. “Seriously? At least take the chair, then. I’ll sleep on the flo—”
You gave him a sharp look. “Zoro.”
“This conversation isn’t getting anywhere,” Zoro muttered, and finally got up from his chair. You glanced up at him expectantly. “What can I do to convince you to take the bed?”
“Uh, nothing.”
“We can work out a compromise,” Zoro said with a sigh. “I want you on it, and you want me on it, and neither of us are willing to take it ourselves.” He paused, brow creasing as an idea seemed to form in his head—one he didn’t seem to be a giant fan of, but an idea nonetheless. “How about.” His lips pursed, before he parted them again to finish his sentence. “How about we both take it?”
It felt like someone had hit you square in the chest, air kicking out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for breath. Your windpipe was all raw, and you had to fight to tear any words out from your throat. “Ex—excuse me?”
“It’s big enough,” Zoro said stiffly, though his hands were clenched at his sides. “I can take one side and you can take the other. Since you’re so dead-set on me sleeping on it.”
“I—” You cut yourself off, suddenly far too aware of Zoro’s eyes fixed on you. Watching your every move. Oh, Nami was in for it now. How were you supposed to survive sleeping in the same bed as—you didn’t even want to think about it.
“Well?” Zoro prompted.
“Fine,” you agreed hastily, ducking your head lest Zoro catch any of the flush that was undoubtedly rising steadily up your cheeks. It was bad enough you were stuck in his bedroom and wearing his clothes—but this had quickly become your own personal circle of hell. “Good enough for me.”
“Finally.” With that, Zoro climbed into bed, settling himself on the very edge of its side. Your throat had gone dry, and you stared at him for another second before hurriedly turning away to flick the lights off. You approached the other side of the bed with an extreme lack of enthusiasm, staring at the empty sheets like they were cackling up at you. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Eventually you slid into the bed, busying yourself with arranging the blankets around your figure. Zoro’s breaths were steady and deep from beside you. You didn’t know what to do for a second, but then Zoro’s voice was cutting through the darkness. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
You jolted, then suppressed your sigh. “Have not.”
“Yes, you have, and everyone knows it, and you’re not very subtle,” Zoro said, sounding almost bored as he rattled off the words. “Why.”
“I haven’t—”
“Don’t.”
You ran your tongue along your teeth, sucking at the valleys between them in annoyance. “It’s not important.”
Zoro paused before speaking, like he was mulling over asking the question. “Did I do something?”
“What? No.” You shook your head, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see. The sound did well enough to indicate the action to him, though—he scoffed, a low murmur from his chest that buzzed through your nerves. “I don’t want to talk about this. You’re giving the rest of the crew what they want.”
“They definitely did not lock you in here to talk about why you’re avoiding me,” Zoro muttered. Now it was your turn to scoff, because if only he knew. “Are you sure I didn’t do anything?"
“Positive. It’s all me.”
“Okay, so why?” Zoro prompted. You swallowed hard, trying to dodge around the subject. “Are you sure—”
“Please just stop talking,” you said, one hand reaching out to grip his arm as if the physical contact would make him shut up. There was a stagnant moment of silence, your breath catching as your brain caught up to your body. Your hand was on Zoro’s arm. Your hand was on Zoro’s bicep, and you were in his bed.
You cleared your throat, a panicked choke bursting from your lungs. “Um.” Your eyes skittered sideways, and then you finally turned on your side to stare at him. To stare at where your hand was still clutched around his arm.
You could just barely make out the angle of his jaw in the darkness, but you could see it was clenched, the vein along his neck protruding just slightly. Hastily, you removed your hand, the skin of your fingers tingling like you could still feel him underneath the tips. “Sorry. Why—why are you so certain that you did something for me to avoid you?”
There were a few moments of silence that ticked by, nothing but the rock of the ship interrupting it. Finally, Zoro spoke. “Because the reason they locked you in my room is because—”
“What? The reason they locked me in your room is because of me,” you said. Zoro finally moved from his position, head tilting to face yours so you were eye-to-eye. You swallowed. “Nami, um—Nami specifically forced me in here so I would… talk to you.”
There was a question evident in Zoro’s voice. “About?”
Your lips parted, and then closed again. “Um.”
“We can just sleep, if you want,” Zoro muttered.
“What if they don’t let us out in the morning because we haven’t talked, though?” you hissed. Zoro let out a low laugh.
“You realize you’re giving them exactly what they want.”
“So you’d be more comfortable if we just… fell asleep?” you asked. Zoro shrugged. Since you weren’t exactly averse to the idea of not confessing, you nodded in agreement, heart beating a million miles a second. “Okay. Fine by me.”
You settled back into your pillow, but soon came to realize that, due to the fluttering butterflies in your stomach and the fact you were very aware of the man of your affections being barely a foot to your right, you could not sleep. Evidently Zoro felt the same way, because he kept shifting around under the blankets—your hands brushed against each other a few times before he jolted away like you’d burnt him.
“Sorry,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t say anything in response. Somewhere in the back of your head, you could hear Nami hissing at you—I didn’t shove you in a room with Mr. Prince Charming just for you to not take advantage of the opportunity. You tried to get her out of your brain—it was a bad idea all around—but the words kept reverberating around in your mind until you found yourself suddenly speaking. “Zoro?”
“Hm?”
“Nami stuck me in here so I would tell you that, um—”
“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro murmured, and you shivered, his voice sounding suddenly closer. You squirmed, your hand brushing against Zoro’s again, except this time it took him a delayed moment to drift away. He had gotten closer—or maybe that was you, instinctually leaning towards the dip in the middle of the bed when you’d been lost in thought.
“The reason they locked me in here with you is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” you blurted, the words slurring together, consonants and syllables all in one rush. “Because I have them. Feelings, I mean.”
Zoro’s voice was very low when he spoke. “Excuse me?”
You sat straight up, the blankets previously nestled around your chin falling to your waist. “I have feelings for you and that’s why everyone locked me in here.”
“I—” Zoro coughed, and then coughed again, ridding his throat of whatever was preventing him from making full sentences. He slowly sat up, and you stared down at the blankets in your lap as you saw him rise to his full height beside you. And oh, this was it. He was about to reject you in the most excruciating, offhand manner that would probably leave you at the bottom of a barrel of rum. “That’s not possible.”
“Why is that—” you decided to shut up instead of finishing your sentence, allowing him to speak instead. There was a soft burning starting at your skin, all red hot, and your brain buzzed, regret filling up your lungs and making it hard to breathe.
Zoro didn’t say anything, but you heard his hand before you felt it. It slid across the bedsheets before finally resting beside yours, fingertips grazing against your knuckles. “Zoro?” you whispered.
“The reason they locked you in here with me is so I would tell you about my feelings towards you,” Zoro said blankly. You blinked. It took you a moment to realize that he wasn’t just quoting you—that he hadn’t switched the pronouns accordingly. Your heart dropped.
Your voice was very faint when you spoke. “What?”
“I like you,” Zoro said carefully. Languidly, the words dripping off his tongue all saccharine-sweet like molasses, or honey. You shivered, your hand accidentally knocking against his, and he took the opportunity to draw it in closer, fingers pushing up your palm, just a hair’s breadth away from interlacing with yours. “Luffy unfortunately found out. He doesn’t know how to keep a secret and told the rest of the crew.”
You gaped at him. “I like you,” you said, dumbfounded. You could feel yourself trembling, fingers sliding against Zoro’s hand with every shake. “Nami yanked it out of me. Which is why I’ve been avoiding you for the past week.”
“I thought you were avoiding me because you found out I liked you,” Zoro muttered. His fingertips brushed against the pads of your hand, and you swallowed, mouth all dry. “So.”
You tentatively lifted your gaze, finding Zoro’s eyes even amidst the darkness. They were shining, a slight glint from the moon coming in through the window reflecting along the shadows of his face. Carefully, his hand slid fully into yours, fingers lacing together, and it was like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.
Zoro slid back down onto his back, tugging you along with him. You settled back on your pillow, using your other hand to pull the blankets back over your chest. For a full stagnant minute the two of you lay there, hands intertwined in the space between.
You were the one who made the first move, then, thumb running up and down the length of his index finger. Zoro ran with the action, tugging your hand just slightly until you were leaning into the dip of the mattress, gravity pulling you closer to his body.
He lifted your entwined hands, tugging you towards him until your back was pressed right to his chest. Then he settled your arms back down again, the back of his palm resting against your belly.
You swallowed hard, able to hear the sound of your throat in the utter silence. Zoro exhaled, his breath softly brushing against your neck. “Good night,” you whispered.
Zoro pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, a ghost of something that left tingles fluttering down your spine, the drunken butterflies in your stomach swaying at the action. “Good night,” he murmured, and your breath caught.
He was warm, oh so warm, like a campfire with licks of flame that softened your hands in the dead of night. And even though you wanted to speak up, question when he’d started liking you, if he was lying or not—you were content to stay here in his arms and drift off to sleep.
So you did, settling back into his embrace with your head spinning and senses murmuring, all dizzy like you were caught in a dream. Eventually, your tiredness got the better of you, and you felt your senses fading as the world around you darkened to black.
The two of you jolted awake to the knocking and the very unpleasant hum of Nami’s voice. “Rise and shine!” she called through the door, and you blinked, bleary eyes adjusting to the light as you suppressed your yawn.
Zoro jolted up beside you, practically giving you whiplash as his arm was still comfortably around your waist. Your fingers tingled, and you realized that you’d fallen asleep with your hands laced together.
“Nami,” you grumbled, about to rise out of bed before Zoro stopped you. You turned towards him in question, only to stop short as you registered the look in his eyes. His gaze was deep, piercing; those butterflies rose up again in your stomach, apparently awake after they’d passed out from their drunken stupor. You swallowed. “Hi?”
“Hey,” he murmured. “They locked you in my room.”
“I’m going to knock Nami over the head with a rowboat oar,” you said blandly, eyes flickering towards the door, which Nami was still pounding on. You vaguely heard shuffling sounds, like the crew were working to move the barrels they’d stuck in front of the door to free you from your prison. “You can have the rest of them, if you want.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Zoro agreed. “But first…”
“First?” you prompted.
Zoro brought your hands—still intertwined—to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss along your knuckles. “Good morning,” he said, voice low and awkward, like he wasn’t used to letting the words out of his mouth. He let your hands drift to his lap, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours.
A faint sigh escaped your lips when he finally kissed you. It wasn’t rough or hard; it was a soft press, like your hands had been just a few hours ago. There was a degree of finality to it; a held-in breath that’d exhaled from your lungs, one you hadn’t realized was building up that much pressure until you finally let it all go.
The door flung open, and you jolted away, but Zoro tilted your head back towards him before you could. At the mouth of the room, Luffy had started screaming. “Aww,” Nami cooed. Behind her, Usopp and Sanji were gripping onto each other like they were watching a particularly engaging fight.
A steady blush rose along your cheeks, but Zoro was absolutely shameless, the hand not held in yours raising up to give them the finger. “Get out of my room.”
“Told you it’d be okay,” Nami sing-songed, and then you really did break away from Zoro, picking up the object nearest to you and barrelling towards her. She shrieked, dodging out of the doorway as Zoro laughed from behind you.
“Wait!” she stopped you from whacking your pillow against her head, raising up her arms in defense. “I was right. I saw you two—”
“Nami,” you started, dangerously low. “You locked me in his room.”
“Yeah, to help you!” she cried defensively, slowly taking backwards steps as you gained on her. “Come on. We can talk about this.”
“Good luck,” Zoro called out from behind you—you turned around, catching his gaze. He had gotten up, leaning against the doorway and watching you with a sparkle of fondness in his eye. “You’ll need it.”
You blew him a kiss, ignoring the long groan it pulled out of Luffy from beside Zoro in the hallway. And then you turned around. Nami had darted off, taking the time you’d been distracted to run off. “Oh no you don’t!” you yelled, and then lunged after her with Zoro laughing all the while.
Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad thing, you thought. But you were still going to beat Nami’s ass.
© halfvalid 2023
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mother's day hc that you tell the genshin boys you're pregnant on mother's day so they decide to celebrate by getting you double pregnant?
YES MA’AM i had a randomizer pick four names for me out of all the guys i write for… kinda laughing at 3/4 of them being all the Serious, Stoic ones lol
fem reader, pregnancy, breeding, overstimulation (alhaitham) and knotting (gorou) below!
alhaitham
You can never be too sure, he says— a good, valid experiment hinges upon proper reliability. Do you know how many undergraduate experimental reports he’s dismissed on account of their supposed “results” being the chance of mere coincidence or random chance? It never hurts to eliminate the possibility of a false positive and to ensure that your positive pregnancy test result is a true positive by breeding you all over again and having you take another pregnancy test in five weeks or so.
When you tell him you’re pregnant, he responds with a quiet nod before almost analyzing all of the behavior you’ve displayed over the last few weeks. Yes, the news makes perfect sense— last week, Alhaitham overheard you wondering aloud if your period was late or if you had just tracked it wrong, and he’d have to be a fool to not know what a missed period is the universal signifier of. The news comes at a perfect time, so he couldn’t be happier— though your husband certainly has a… uniquely stoic way of expressing happiness.
That night, he replicates every last aspect of the night he imagines he got you pregnant some five weeks ago (it’s a simple calculation, really) down to your spot on the bed and the clothes he was wearing just to make sure that a false positive is out of the question. Perhaps he’ll have to come inside if you twice tonight just to really seal the deal that you’re pregnant— once is chance, twice is a coincidence, and thrice is a true pattern. You’d like to try and convince him that surely there’s no need for all of this, that pregnancy tests rarely, rarely fail or show an incorrect result, but there’s no pushing back against your husband’s logical calculations or sense of reason— not that you’re much in the condition to even try to speak with him anyways.
When your husband has you spread open wide with your knees pressed up against either side of your chest, a light conversation is absolutely out of the picture. You’d consider it a feat to muster up anything other than splintered whines of your husband’s name and delicate pleas for him to slow down— though, truthfully, it’d be an even bigger feat if you managed to successfully convince Alhaitham of doing the latter. He hasn’t stalled or slowed his pace for even a fraction of a second because he, of course, is trying to replicate the night he very likely knocked you up exactly, and he just so happened to be absolutely railing you that night.
“You can certainly take more than this.” That’s all he offers when you beg him to slow down again. “I’ve discovered, met, and exceeded every last one of your limits myself, and this pace, this position, and this fervor hardly come close to any of those. I’m simply validating your claim before I take to preparing the spare room for our child.”
You gasp and let your head fall back against the pillow, defeated and overwhelmed in equal tandem by your husband’s delightful Mother’s Day plans.
Alhaitham only chuckles once, a satisfied smirk so faint on his lips that you almost don’t catch it at all. “You’ll be alright. We’ll have nine entire months to be gentle.”
zhongli
Zhongli has lived a normal human lifetime nearly ninety times over— yet, fascinatingly, he always insists he’s come nowhere close in experiencing everything life, nature, humanity, and civilization have to offer, an assertion you’ve always found downright impossible to fathom. How does somebody not get bored after six thousand years of life? You know people who are bored after just four years of working in the same career before they jump ship and try to find something, anything completely different.
He offers the exact same explanation every single time you once again ask how he still finds things to do, places to go, and activities to enjoy after being alive for so long— he always, always smiles softly and explains that he never gets bored with life because you’re in it, and you show him new things, new foods, and new ways to love and enjoy the world that he never even imagined prior to meeting you.
You’ll admit that you’ve found his reasoning somewhat hard to believe on a few separate occasions— like he’s seriously been alive for over six thousand years, yet he’s never tried red bean ice cream from Inazuma before? It’s not exactly a rare or expensive good. However, there are other times when you think you understand what he means, and his logic has never been more evident than today because you told your darling husband that you’re pregnant this morning.
“I’ve never been a father before,” Zhongli hums as he presses a wide circle of kisses all around the cusp of your tummy. “I’ve tutored and taught many, but I’ve never raised a child as my own from their very birth.”
“Does it make you nervous?” You grip his left hand a little tighter as his right comes to rub a soothing circle over the apex of your soft belly.
He pauses for a moment. “I see no reason to be afraid of new experiences, let alone ones I have you to guide me through. I’ve found that sampling life’s uncertainties and navigating its surprises provide far more enrichment than routine.”
You laugh. “I don’t think I can do much ‘guiding’ here, my love— I’ve never been a mother before either. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Zhongli melts. How do you always know just how to tickle his heart with the most innocuous of statements?
“And that is exactly why I’m not nervous— because we’ll have each other to both learn from and learn alongside. I’ve spent the vast majority of my life being the teacher and not the student, so opportunities to learn with you excite me.”
All you can do is hide your face with your free hand, your cheeks warm and your grin obvious. Your husband chuckles and kisses a line down the bottom half of your tummy, down your hips, and all the way down, down, down until he runs into the fabric of your panties.
“I’ve read that intimacy during pregnancy has an array of positive effects for a mother,” Zhongli notes, gently sliding a hand down to tug your panties to the side. “We’ll have to try every last tip and wives’ tale, won’t we, my love?”
diluc
Completely opposite to that of Zhongli, Diluc’s perspective on celebratory sex on Mother’s Day is that it’s about as tired, cliche, and lazy as celebratory sex on a birthday, New Year’s Eve, or Valentine’s Day. Really, any other holiday where people feel the need to either supplement their actual present with sex because they fear what they really bought their spouse just isn’t good enough on its own or because they forgot to get them a present entirely.
Or so he says.
He’s always been of the opinion that love and intimacy expressed on a random day of the year without any special meaning bears more weight than celebratory holiday sex— why should sex be included as part of the celebratory experience when a married couple is expected to regularly display intimacy towards one another? You’ve teased him about this cynical, grumpy take plenty of times, but you’ve almost come to agree with him regardless— it’s hard to even have the energy for sex at the end of your birthday or on the evening of Valentine’s Day when you’re just so exhausted by everything Diluc planned for you during the day. Perhaps it’s entirely because he doesn’t take special occasions lightly that he sees no need to end the day on a cliche.
Well, there’s a first for everything.
“I thought you don’t do celebratory sex,” you whimper with a sharp inhale. You had meant for the statement to sound more teasing and alluring, but it’s damn near impossible to keep your composure when your husband’s spent the past hour and a half between your legs.
Diluc, for the first time in ninety minutes, actually pulls away from your slick, saliva-coated pubic mound to stare up at you over your tummy. How amusing— this is the smallest he’ll see your tummy for the next nine months, and something tells him he’s not going to miss it whatsoever.
“We’ve never celebrated Mother’s Day before simply because you were never a mother for any of them. Today is different— and of course this news deserves celebration.” That’s right— you did mention to Diluc that you’re pregnant this morning over breakfast, didn’t you?
You take advantage of this impromptu break to make eye contact with your husband, who hasn’t looked this… disheveled in quite some time. Bangs plastered to his forehead, nose and chin dripping with a mix of saliva and your fluids, and pupils blown wide with desire, this is a Diluc you don’t get to see very often— and you know how to revel in the treat.
“Making exceptions to your own rules doesn’t suit you.” There, that one actually sounded teasing.
He offers a sort of shrug in response. “I’d have to be devoid of all emotion entirely to not want to celebrate my wife’s body when she tells me it’s pregnant with our very first child.” He glides his soaked lips down the inside of your thighs elegantly and with purpose, taking care to stop just before where thigh meets labia to really relish in your scent.
“Besides,” Diluc murmurs. “I’d like to map out how your body looks now so I can properly appreciate how much lovelier you’ll look once you begin to actually show how well I’ve bred you.”
gorou
Gorou tentatively asks you to repeat yourself just to make sure that he heard you properly, which carries a good amount of irony given his exceptionally superhuman hearing. He just wants to make sure he heard you properly— telling him you’re pregnant on Mother’s Day? He can’t think of anything more perfect than that, so it’d be a shame if he just imagined you saying it— he’s dreamed of being a father for so long now that if you were to hit him with a “gotcha” now, he might faint from disappointment.
Realistically, he should’ve put two and two together three weeks ago, but leave it to your husband to miss something glaringly obvious without your explicit guidance or direction. It’s almost funny to think that, despite his keen sense of smell, taste, and hearing, his overprotective nature, and his well-developed common sense, it’s so easy for him to miss the elephant in the room and get distracted by something incredibly unrelated to whatever he’s supposed to be looking out for.
He should have known from the second he found himself growing more and more overprotective of you without any visible or tangible piece of evidence as to why— you weren’t sick, you weren’t injured, and you weren’t otherwise vulnerable… or so he thought. It wasn’t obvious to him at the time, but now that you’ve confirmed it for him… it makes perfect sense. His nose already knew you were pregnant then— he picked up in the slightest change in your hormone levels without even realizing it, and now that he knows you’re pregnant?
He won’t leave your side for a single moment these next nine months.
Apparently, his vow to stay by your side 24/7 started the very moment you first broke the news to him— with your husband pressed so close up against you, you wouldn’t be surprised if you two just simply combined. Gorou’s hips slap against your ass so roughly and so quickly the sound of skin making contact with skin bounces off the walls and fills your ears, almost threatening to drown out your husband’s elated rambling.
Almost, but not quite. Nothing will get him to stop talking once he’s already started running his mouth.
“I just— I’ve just wanted this for so long,” he pants, looping his hands around your thighs to press them against the front your belly. “It’s just instinct, I guess? I just— Archons— there’s no better way to spend my life than with a sweet wife and a big, big family of our cute little pups.” He’ll be sure to keep you pregnant now that the precedent has already been established— Gorou knows he’ll miss taking you doggy style when your belly gets too big to safely attempt such a position, but he’s sure he can figure out a nice, comfortable compromise.
“I’ll get lots of time off from work! It’ll be easy. I’ll spend every day taking good, good care of you and our family because that’s— that’s what good husbands do, right? I’ll get Thoma to teach me tons of nutritious meals for you because I only know how to prepare quick rations for troops,” Gorou notes with a sheepish chuckle before he hunches over your back and whimpers brokenly. Will you still be able to take his knot while you’re pregnant, or will it be too much for you? He can’t push you too far now that you’re the most delicate you’ve ever been, heavy with the promise of a big family, right?
“I love you so much,” he gasps, nails digging into your belly softly as he loses control of himself. “And I’ll be the best father possible!”
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Here’s the Pirate AU it is originally by @goshdanghowdy I just like to turn others ideas into comics sometimes.
Personally I love the more sweeter aspect of this ship so I’m really sappy lol. The idea I think is gonna take a different route for the other person but my own take on it is this.
Adam hunts sea beasts and creatures for the Royal Navy (heaven) and he runs into an old friend of his (Lucifer). Their history is short but they had met each other when Adam was a young adult and almost drowned, Lucifer saved him. However when Lucifer was protecting Liliths nest from invaders he accidentally hurt Adam causing the scare on his face. Adam ran from Lucifer his feelings hurt that the kraken would hurt him. Lucifer of course didn’t mean to, it was the heat of the moment kinda thing.
Years later after Lilith had left the kraken and Adam is a Sea monster Hunter
He runs into the King of The Seas boat “The Inevitable End” (idk I can’t think of a name that’s just a place holder) Adam didn’t have much of a chance when he was going up against a kraken, or more like the king of all kraken.
Thus leading to Adam’s capture and my comic begins lol. But that’s just how I would like to think it plays out I know the other person had something else planned so don’t take my idea as gospel. It’s just an idea lol.
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Trio of bad bloods obsessed with their human mechanic. So much so that said human has no choice but to live on their ship because they'd be dammed if someone else touched you! (Not that the human is complaining, lol) The human is smitten :3 perhaps said human teases them to break the sexual tension?
Scared to come off anon still, but I adore your works! ♡
Not A Bad Sight
Pairings: Mai'tuiudh (Male), A'jiadh (Male), Zaikeh (Female) x Mechanic!Reader
Word Count: 2179
Summary: The same trio always shows up every month, sometimes even shorter. You've come to learn more about them both in contact and in passing. You work on their ship. They do ask for you by name. You get their craft operating every time. The longer this goes on, the less the trio wants to let you go.
Author Note: This is a fantastic idea! I loved writing this so much. Also, this gave me an idea for anons. For those who are using Anon, could you use an emoji or even a nickname to distinguish everyone. Another thing, I promise I don't bite! If you want to jump into my Dms and rant about Yautjas, I'll be right there with you
Masterlist
Ao3
Sweat dribbled down your forehead. The heat of the place nearly overwhelming if you hadn’t grown use to it day in, day out. A small electrical fan spun on the highest setting and blew slightly cooler air at you. Not too much of a difference. Someone would have to pry the thing out of your melted, sweat hands before you would give it up though.
With your forearm, you swiped away the offending salty drip of water and continued to tighten a bolt. This was such an easy fix, one any of those hunks of meat could easily do themselves. They are known to get their hands dirty.
Those large muscles you knew had to take years to perfect aren’t a sight you would turn away from. Said muscles could easily unlogde this moderate size space rock, pull the damage panelling up, then replace it.
Not even the hardware underneath the panel was damaged. But nope, the trio came sauntering and always asked you by name. Your boss could care less. It earned her money. Money in both of your pockets was a job well done. Though, you came by honesty with them and let them know this was more trouble for their pockets then it was worth to have you fix. All of them insisted you fixed it, trusting their ship in your hands.
For whatever reason, they always wanted you to make all the repairs on their vessel.
Said vessel was sleek, clean, a speed class with just a hair of defense to take a hit or two. The speed came with its downfall when it came to space junk or debris. That’s why it’s here right now.
A grunt surpassed your lips once the last bolt was secured. You proudly smirked down at the completed work then hoped off the wing.
This ship was a beauty to work on. Yautjas rarely let anyone work on their ships. So, to have an opportunity like this fall into your hands. It would be stupid to pass it on to someone else. Especially seeing all three of them walk out of the shop to pass the time. You hated to see them go but the sight was beautiful.
Like the countless times before, you send a ping to Mai’tuiudh. He’s the leader of the bunch. Well… ‘leader’. He takes charge during the transactions but it’s A’jiadh who chats you up. Then, there’s Zaikeh. The lumber giant even to the other two. A female from the pieces of information you’ve been able to pull about Yautjas and their societies.
Due to the day winding down, you stayed up at the front desk and waited for your familiar customers to walk through. A tablet in hand to keep yourself busy until then.
It’s a rarity to see a female, that you know of from personal experience and the universe wide web. The reason is unknown to you but maybe you could pull the information from one of them one day.
Of course, who knows if the Yautjas are purposefully removing knowledge of their inner workings. They don’t actively seek out other species and stick to their own. A forward going species with a serious attitude that hung to the very depths of their DNA.
A soft ding pulled you from your device and glancing at the only door in and out of this place. In walked the trio you’ve grown to know. You stood up and dipped your head in greeting. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite customers,” you greeted with a knowing smirk, your eyes finding Mai in the front.
Said male strolled into the front area and stopped at the counter dividing the four of you. His partners in crime followed in after him and paused at his sides. A’jiadh leans onto the stone tabletop and pushed closer to your personal space. There was a glint in his eyes you’ve grown to learn. He’s a cheeky little fucker and loves to see you act in any submissive way. You didn’t know if this was him personally or a trait among the Yautjas being such a dominant race.
The others showed the same trait but less of an amount. Just in causal passing, you guessed.
Before Mai could have the chance to speak, A’jiadh beat him to the punch. “So, dollface, everything fixed up for us or were you wanting to see us again for encouragement? Because I can give you all encouragement you could ever ask for,” he teased and leaned even closer to you.
Countless times around the forward Yautja, you’ve learned to just stay where you at. You huffed and rolled your eyes. “You know you could’ve fixed this yourself. You have all the right tools. Nothing was damaged,” you voiced the situations details again with a helpful tone.
Despite not falling into his tricks, A’jiadh wasn’t discouraged at all. No matter how many times you ignored the flirty comments he would throw at you.
Mai shoulder checked the mottled olive green Yautja to the side and fully stepped up to the plate. “How much?” His voice was gravelly and sent a shiver down your spine every time.
You grabbed the tablet off of the counter and scrolled through the list of customers until landing on them. The price was something you would never be willing to pay for something so simple that a child could do… if they had the strength to get the bolts off. But these are Yautjas. Probably the strongest known species that traveled the universe.
Labor and materials do cost a pretty credit around here though. You’re the best known in the system.
A heft sigh pushed the air out of your lungs. You set the tablet on the tall counter in front of him. “Well, it’s gonna be a pretty five-hundred and six credit repair,” you said and pointed towards the bottom of the page where it was typed out.
A’jiadh ‘oo’ed then lifted one of his upper mandibles, resembling a human-like smirk. “Pretty like you.” You raised a single brow at the Yautja before you put your hands on your hips, jutting one out.
“Love, you couldn’t handle me,” you said and shook your head to feign discouragement to the Yautja. It’s not like you wanted them to give up. No, instead, you wanted them to chase. Predator vs prey.
Fire blazed to life in his teal blue eyes. You weren’t oblivious to their intentions. Far from it. You knew their game as the hunters their species is known for. A game you were more than happy to play along with. But it’ll be a hard game. No easy mode.
“Is that so?” he purred out, muscles tensing as if he was readying himself for a hunt.
Before the game could continue between the two of you, Mai handed back the device. “All paid,” he interrupted and rested an elbow on the high counter afterwards. Your gaze jumped over to him. You took the tablet back and set it off to the side.
“Well, come on folks, your chariot awaits.” They’ve been back here so many times that you didn’t necessarily needed to lead them but decided to anyhow. Again, you would love to be on the other side of them. All of them walking away.
The door opened to reveal the massive hanger with many other vessels in here for repairs. Always busy, always working here. A shop that does good work always has an influx of customers. That’s this shop.
Closer to the front of the line up, sat their beautifully crafted ship. You loved to work on it every time they brough it in. Stunning in style and sleekness. You could never get enough of it. A smile worked its way onto your face before you stopped and about faced. “Here’s your beauty. Everything checked out. I got bored and ran a check on all the systems to ensure they were working properly. No issues. I’m happy to say she has a clean bill of health.”
Zaikeh stopped at your side, facing the ship. She looked down at you. Like usual, the black scaled Yautja stayed quiet and observed you within the silence. It freaked you at first but you have come to learn that’s just how she is.
“Got any questions for me?” you asked the trio before fully releasing the ship back into their care.
A’jaidh chirped and crowded into your space. You didn’t back down and enjoyed his heat brushing against your skin. A better feel than the sweltering heat the hanger gets on average. “What would it take for you to come with us?” he questioned.
Out of all the times you’ve interacted with them, these words surprised you. Your brows shot up to your hair line. Your mouth sputtered for a moment to find the right words. “W-what do you me-an?” Come with them? In what way? You don’t travel very often. The shop keeps you busy and happily wealthy to live in a comfortable apartment by yourself in a safe area on the planet.
He moved closer, your chest to his midriff. You didn’t see it happen before you felt another source of heat trap you to A’jaidh. “I think you know what he means, little one.” The smooth voice of Zaikeh met your ears. You could melt into a puddle from the heat inside of you, boiling your blood to steam.
“Like go with you guys?” you needed clarification before agreeing to anything. All this talk, this game you’ve played was in its last quarter, you had to make the last goal to win.
“Be our mechanic. Only ours. We’ll keep you safe, fed, and pampered,” Mai whispered into your ear, surprising you from his sudden appearance. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape. They caught their prey.
You.
“All you have to do is stay with us,” Mai muttered softly in your other ear, somehow moving around quickly. He was showing off his prowess and abilities as a hunter. “Be our mechanic. We’ll take care of you, little ooman.”
Your heart stuttered in its bony cage. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and gave the idea a thought. The ability to reach for the stars, go anywhere with them. Yeah, the shop was fun, the money was good. But this here, was an opportunity you would die for. Kill for even. Three Yautjas wanted you. You wanted the three Yautjas.
All the plays you endured while playing this game with them is paying off. You swallowed your nerves and straightened your spine before looking to the side at Mai. He was the leader after all. “I’ll go with you,” you accepted, couldn’t deny the way your body vibrated with anticipation and anxiety.
A Cheshire-like grin spread across his alien face. “Good, because it wasn’t a choice. You’re ours. No one is allowed to touch you or even look in your general vicinity,” Mai growled and brushed his knuckled against your cheek.
“Yeah, we aren’t below kidnapping you. But, we’re glad you’ve decided to come willingly,” A’jaidh joined the conversation.
Kidnapping?! “You were going to kidnap me? That doesn’t seem very honorable. Wouldn’t that break your honor code?” you questioned and tilted your head.
The hand that brushed against your cheek snatched your chin to lift up your head. Mai’tuiudh stood up tall before your form. “Honor? Oh sweet thing, we don’t care about honor. We are Bad Bloods after all,” he admitted. Your eyes widened at the realization that these Yautjas aren’t part of the majority of their species society. Instead, they’re the rouges who’ve broke their promise and honor. There was nothing holding them back from killing you.
And you loved it.
The two Yautjas pinning you between them finally backed off and allowed you to have some breathing room. Mai kept his hold on your chin and dragged you closer to him. “You’re ours now, ooman.” Then Mai let go and motioned towards the ship. Without complaint you happily skipped towards the belly of the ship.
Just like them, you knew the ship like the back of your hand. You tapped in the code to lower the ramp and waited for it go fully down. A glance behind you showed they were following you into their ship. Nothing could wipe off the smile on your face. A new, exciting chapter in your life.
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so I often think about the concept of good and evil, and how it’s so human. How it fits the majority’s mentality and morality. And I just think it fits so well with Ecliptica and the other aliens on their ship (forgive me I forgot what their alien name). Cause the thing is, they aren’t human. They’re aliens from another planet. For all we know they might have different organs and stuff too. Who’s to say their morals are the same as ours? I feel like Oscar kind of figured this out in his own weird way, kind of just a quick “uh oh” moment for him. But the concept of good and evil is a human construct. Not alien. It’s obvious and shows just beautifully in your comic.
the lack of empathy towards other races, the toying with their prey and feeling just because they can? They don’t see that as a problem. They don’t see that as bad. They see that as another day on the ship, they see that as having a fun hunting trip. They see that as a regular boring day where they do what they usually do. They don’t think they’re the bad guys and it shows. They are creatures with a big ego, deciding they are a superior race, and they think that’s all a good thing. And god it’s so cool.
in fact, I bet they have their own versions of good and bad, which is actually so cool because what is their society really like?? What are common things they do? How many planets have they devistated without a single care?
anyway your comic is literally so cool and uh. Sorry for the rant lol
Oh my gosh, I absolutely love this ask. Thank you mcnfjfj. I have a little separate plot planned about the Marmor culture and their idea of right and wrong, evil and good. A little episode about their home planet and society.
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if mcyt isn’t fiction then
people who create dnd characters that are similar to them in personality are just playing themselves and should not be treated as having made a character
people who make any other dnd character should also be treated as just playing themselves since people refuse to even consider roleplay smps as fiction
any ocs someone puts a bit of themselves into? nope not fiction!
actors who play a character with the same first name as them aren’t really acting
and so on
maybe YOU can’t separate characters and real people and think that everything you see from a youtuber even when they’re explicitly acting is how they are in real life but we as a fandom just don’t have that issue lol. we’ve had disclaimers and indicators for when we’re talking about characters and not content creators for years because a certain smp contained a character having suicidal thoughts as a result of abuse at the hands of another character and we needed to make it absolutely crystal clear that we were referring to a fictional storyline and not real guy #1 being an abuser and real guy #2 being suicidal. these customs have either extended into other corners of mcyt fandom, or some developed their own independently like hispanic mcyt fans have used the word cubito to distinguish mc guy from real life guy from years, a term that other language speakers liked so much we’ve also started picking it up lol
we know exactly what we’re doing. i get that the line maybe does seem more blurred to an outsider looking in (i wouldn’t know given that both my first fandom at age 12 and current fandom at age 20 were mcrp lol) but it’s universally understood amongst us. i don’t have a problem separating hermitcraft!gem and empires s1!gem the wizard with a twin brother and empires s2!gem the princess and cc!gem the real life canadian woman.
idk it rubs me the wrong way that after years of trying to explain this we’re either met with people calling us racists because of three guys that the rest of us (all of us, really, because dream team fans do not claim to be minecraft fans. those are the type to actually write rpf and ship the real life racist guys) hate probably a lot more than any of you do, or they watch a few minutes of a less roleplay-heavy series/part and decide that the entire medium is invalid as a form of storytelling
it’s so annoying. i don’t think we need to be understood to have validity as a fandom we’ve been doing this for years already without that but it is so infuriating and sad how whenever there’s some kind of fandom poll thing one of three things happens
mcyt fans are banned outright and placed on the same level as something like hp
an mcyt fan runs their own and gets harassed for it
a non-mcyt fan allows us in until they get harassed so badly by whatever fandoms we go up against that they end up deleting our bracket
in what world is that normal behaviour. and that harassment always involves calling them all racist cishet white men such as misgendering both eret (real life bisexual genderqueer person) and their character (also queer), attempting to harass jimmy solidarity fans because jimmy makes mc videos so he must be a dream associate (the only time they interacted was in a tournament during which dream and georgenotfound shittalked jimmy’s best friends to his face), all the shit quackity has gotten for being a former friend of the dream team as if he wasn’t the #1 victim of their racism and xenophobia, the fact that any time c!technoblade is involved in a poll we have to beg other fandoms not to talk shit about him because the real life man died of cancer before dream’s grooming allegations came out, similarly when tfc was in one. and so on and so forth. all because people can’t separate roleplay and real life and think that the entire minecraft sphere revolves around dream just because their idea of mcyt does (not even his own smp named after him did that).
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making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.
disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh
to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.
the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.
i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.
and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.
and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.
gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.
but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.
on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.
i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.
i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?
and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?
the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:
????????
are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.
and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.
i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.
that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.
before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘
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Blue Haired Boy
you play with Buggy's hair while the crew is away
Cw/ Fem! terms, food, fluff, whiny Buggy, OPLA! Buggy, he's just a head in this one lol
AN/ this is just me clowning around before getting my requests done, so not beta read.
Rolling over on the hammock for the fifth time, you grabbed at the thin pillow and shoved it off and onto the floor. Something about the situation was reminiscent of being stuffed into a wonton wrapper.
God, being the new girl sucks.
You thought the crew would have found some use for you, you were a jack-of-all-trades after all, but it seemed like there was only one role left to fulfill. And as the newest member of the crew, you were responsible for the more unsavory job.
“H-ello! I know you can hear me, broccoli hairrrr~”
Buggy’s singsongy tone reminded you of that very role, clown babysitter. Sighing as the throbbing headache in your temple mixed with the sharp pain in your back, you decided to stand up and get something done, anything that could distract you from your boredom.
The bag that held the clown’s head was on the kitchen table, much to Sanji’s chagrin. Other than the slight shaking and constant talking, he was an exemplary hostage.
As you walked closer to the bag, Buggy’s frantic ravings grew louder. Some empathetic little part of you felt bad for him, so you decided to use your better judgment and give him a little fresh air. That old sack must start to stink after a while.
As you open the bag and dump out the clown’s head, he immediately sprung up and winked at you dramatically. It was as if he was trying to max out his charisma.
“Why hello..~ You’re a new face, aren’t you?”
The deadpan look you tossed his way didn’t break his disposition, instead, it seemed to egg him on.
“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”
Buggy’s head tilted to the side before he smiled brightly.
“A pretty name for a pretty girl…”
That comment got a little chuckle out of you, and he seemingly beamed.
Gently picking him up by his head, near his ears where he wouldn’t be uncomfortable, you placed him on the kitchen counter and pulled out a small kitchen knife.
“You hungry?”
Twirling the knife in-between your fingers, you looked at him expectantly. You had always had a deep sense of domesticity towards your crew, and as he was a temporary companion, he would be receiving your support too.
“Where do you think the food would go?”
Another laugh erupted from you, this one was genuine and hearty, and Buggy’s head laughed along with you.
Good point, clown.”
You picked his head up again and brought him to your makeshift little corner of the ship, laying in your soft red hammock with Buggy on your stomach as you examined him. Your fingers slowly threaded through his hair and adjusted his bandana.
He furrowed his brows slightly, trying to discern what your motive was for the affectionate act. Something clicked in his head as he met your eyes.
“Hey! If you're gonna get all sweet with me, you could've bought me dinner first!”
Laugher came from you in droves, and the clown, clearly proud of himself, bounced a little in the air.
As you continued to fix and adjust his hair and bandana, Buggy got a little quieter, and if you looked really close, you could see a little flush on his cheeks and (what was present of) his neck.
“This hair…it’s all yours huh?”
Your fingers threaded through a particular knot in his ocean blue locks, and he sighed a little.
“Y-yeah! I mean, I don’t dye it or anything…”
A softer smile appeared on your face as you patted the top of his gorgeous hair, sure, it wasn’t the cleanest; but it was still beautiful. The blue hair complimented his eyes, and framed his face perfectly.
“It’s so thick and voluminous, you could easily grow it out.”
Buggy’s painted face reddened more at that comment, the blush was visible as his grease paint began pulling off.
His silence sort of astonished you, but it was short lived.
“You think that would look alright..?”
Before you could speak again, only to confirm his thoughts, his head lept upwards into the air dramatically.
“ABSOLUTELY IT WOULD! ANYTHING WOULD LOOK GREAT ON A HUNK LIKE ME!”
Your shared laughter echoed throughout the night, a verbal symbol of an amusingly unstable relationship between the two of you blossoming.
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“S&M” by Rihanna for Toji Fushiguro - smut
S&M
I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~2.0k
cw: smut - PIV sex (doggy style), cunnilingus, mild S&M practices - whips, blindfold, handcuffs, protected sex (for once lol), use of safe word, rough sex, pet names (cutie, sweetheart)
Summary: You are next-door neighbors with a man named Toji Fushiguro. You don’t know much about him, except for the fact that he’s a divorced father who spends every other weekend with his young son, Megumi. On the weeks he doesn’t have him, you notice the same trio of women visiting his house. One night, his package gets incorrectly delivered to your door. Too curious, you walk over to return it, only to find the front door unlocked and a naughty secret to discover.
Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request anon! I love Rihanna, so it’s no surprise that she’s on the y2k karaoke party playlist! I personally am not well-versed with S&M practices, so this was an experience to write, definitely a little bit out of my comfort zone, but I hope it’s still okay! This is more on the milder side, I'm sure. Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated, thanks for reading! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
You’re not usually this nosey when it comes to your neighbors, but something about Toji Fushiguro draws you in. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a divorced dad who takes good care of his adorable son, Megumi. Or maybe it’s the mysterious trio of women who frequently visits his house on the weeks he doesn’t have his child. Or maybe it’s his obvious good looks and impressive physique that you can’t help but notice every time he steps foot outside. Whatever it is, whether it’s a combination of all of the above, you just can’t get Toji Fushiguro off your mind.
On this particular Friday night, you’re staying in, binging a TV show with a glass of white wine in your hands and a frozen pizza that you just baked in the oven. There’s a knock on your front door, which surprises you because you aren’t expecting anybody at this hour. You give it a few moments, seeing if there’s another knock. When none comes, you get up to scope it out, finding a large package directly in front of you and a delivery truck driving off in the distance. You check the shipping label, reading Toji’s name on it instead of yours. You glance at his front yard, spotting his car parked in the driveway and no one else’s. His girlfriends must have already left; you noticed their vehicle earlier beside his.
Not bothering to change into anything presentable, currently wearing your sweats and fuzzy slippers, you carry the wrongly delivered package to its rightful owner, hoping if you can find some truth behind your neighbor’s unique bi-weekly ritual. You’ve thought about it before, the most likely answer being a polyamorous relationship or group sex. Still, it’ll put your mind to rest to know exactly what he does in there when little Megumi is away and Toji is free to play. So, you carefully lift the box, which isn’t heavy, over to his front door, setting it down to ring the bell. You push the button, then notice that the door is already open, slightly ajar. Another ring, and no one comes, though you’re certain you hear movement inside.
You should turn around. Go back home, sink into your couch, continue the night as normal. Yet, your feet guide you in, closing the door shut behind you, tip-toeing farther into the house, waiting to catch Toji in the act, whatever that could be. Eventually, you make it to the living room, where you stand in the doorframe, searching for your neighbor, who you find sitting on the couch with his shirt off, scrolling through his phone.
You knock on the wall, announcing your presence. He looks up, confused, inspecting you carefully before saying your name. “What are you doing in here?” He’s way more cavalier than you imagined he’d be, which you’re thankful for.
You present the box to him, a nervous grin on your face as you explain, “This just got delivered to my house on accident. I rang the bell, but no one answered. And your front door was open, so I figured I’d just come inside to give it to you.” It’s a poor excuse; you really shouldn’t have barged in without permission.
He seems to buy it though, rolling his eyes, muttering, “Damn Kimi. She’s always doing that.” He approaches you, grabbing the box from your hands. “Thank you for getting this to me. Been waiting for it all night, so I was bummed it didn’t come in on time.” He sets it down on the floor, kneeling beside it, ready to unwrap.
You search the room, trying to find any clues of what they could be doing inside here. It looks normal, nothing nefarious standing out. Slightly disappointed, you take this as your cue to leave, turning on your heel to make your way back home. Before you can, Toji calls out your name and asks, “Don’t you want to see the little present I got? After all, it was almost yours. Would have loved to see your reaction if you opened it by accident.” His tone is playful, yet there’s something wicked behind his words. Something naughty.
You swallow hard, mouth already salivating. This isn’t how you planned your night to go, but you’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about it before. You face him again, stepping towards the box slowly, sitting on the other side. He uses a pocketknife to slice through the tape, eyes lighting up as he reaches inside, holding up his delivered item like a treasure. It’s a riding whip, soft leather on one end, handle on the other. He smirks at you, slapping it against his palm, making a loud crack sound. You jump up, startled by the noise. He barks a laugh at your reaction, laying the whip down on the coffee table next to him. He reaches in again, pulling out three sets of fuzzy handcuffs, twirling one around his fingers. “Damn, would have been fun to use these tonight.” Glancing over at you, legs squeezed tightly together, arousal seeping through your panties, he scans you up and down, giving you a wicked smile. “You want to try these out, neighbor? I promise, I’ll go easy on you.”
It's ridiculous, right? Completely silly and irresponsible for you to agree to this, right? You blurt out your answer before you can even contemplate those questions logically. “Yes.”
He chuckles, biting him lip, eyes focused on your loins currently throbbing against the fabric of your sweats. You really wish you dressed up now, but it doesn’t matter, as he commands you to, “Strip.”
Almost too eagerly, you obey, kicking your slippers off and undressing, starting with your shirt, which you toss behind your shoulder. He studies you carefully, eyes following your every move as you slip out of your pants, down to only your underwear and bra now. He licks his lips, stepping closer to you. “Yeah,” he purrs, breath hot on your skin. “This will definitely work.”
~~~
Within minutes, you find yourself naked in his bedroom, blindfolded, wrists handcuffed behind you, face buried into the pillow, and ass up, perfectly vulnerable for him to do as he pleases. The two of you establish a safe word: mignon, because he thinks you’re cute, and the filet mignon is his favorite cut of meat. He suggests several acts he wants to perform on you and lets you decide which ones you want to go through with. You make your choice, asking to be spanked with the new whip he received. Something about breaking in one of his new accessories turns you on.
Not being able to see anything, you listen carefully to what he’s doing behind you. You hear him unwrap the condom wrapper, sliding the latex over his cock. Then, there’s a squelch, most likely the lube he’s pouring into his hand, coating his shaft with it. “Are you ready, cutie? I’m going to start with the whip first, okay?” You nod, heart pounding in your chest, nervous and thrilled all at once.
“Words, sweetheart. Use your words. I have to hear you say it.”
You swallow your spit, trying to speak coherently. “Yes. I’m ready.”
“Good. That’s a good girl.” You feel the cool leather against your skin, anticipating it as he counts down. “Three, two, one.” Then, smack. It’s quick, painful for only a few seconds. You can tell he’s holding back, cautious of you. “Did you like that?” he asks.
“Yes,” you say, wiggling your ass to him. “Give it to me harder.”
He chuckles, swearing under his breath. “Fuck, okay. I’ll go harder then.” He counts down once more, the slap definitely more intense this time. Your skin stings from the contact and it feels like you’re already gushing from your cunt, core tight with pleasure.
He continues this until he’s delivered ten smacks to each of your ass cheeks. Your body is sweltering now, the skin on your ass surely hotter than the rest of you. Your pussy flutters, aching to be filled, clit throbbing, desperate to be licked. “Toji,” you whimper, drooling from the sides of your mouth. “Fuck me.”
There’s that laugh again, low, taunting, so fucking sexy. “Not yet. Want to make you come before I fuck this pretty cunt.” He positions himself beneath you, between your legs. “Fuck my face. You can be rough with me. I can take it.”
His grip is firm on your hips, guiding you as you ride him, spreading yourself over his wide tongue and gaping mouth. He’s eats you better than any guy you’ve ever fucked before, sloppy and wet, as if he thoroughly enjoys slurping at your juices. He slides his hands over your ass, massaging the skin made raw from his spanking. And before you get a chance to warn him, you come all over his face, gushing into his mouth.
“Fuck yeah,” he muffles, lapping up your slick. “So fucking good for me.”
Desperate now to be filled, you beg, “Please, Toji. Fuck me. Need you inside me.”
He slides out from beneath you, positioning himself behind you with his cock pressed between your ass cheeks. “I need it too, cutie. Need to pump my fat cock inside this perfect pussy.” He moans loudly as he slides himself inside you, stretching you out, inch by inch, until you swallow him whole. He thrusts into you, slowly at first while you adjust to his length. Gradually, he picks up the pace, pounding you hard and fast, his grip on your wrists, still bound by the handcuffs. The stretch in your shoulders is starting to burn now, arms pinned way back as he uses it for leverage. It’s not enough to coax the safe word out of you, yet. You need more of him to satiate this overwhelming desire.
“You’re taking it like such a good girl,” he moans, pumping himself into you. “Did you ever think about this before? Think about me?”
“Fuck yes. All the time,” you admit, drooling onto the pillowcase.
“Shit, I knew it. I knew I should have slutted you out sooner,” he growls, bullying his way deeper. It’s almost too much. Almost. A couple more strokes and it actually is, your shoulders sore, nervous they’ll pop out of its sockets. You’ve had your fill of him, your guts feeling like they’ve been rearranged by his massive cock. You’re tempted to stay quiet, not wanting this to end just yet. But your body is begging you for a break.
“Mignon,” you croak out, throat dry from the incessant moaning.
“Fuck,” he mutters, pulling out, immediately unlocking the handcuffs on your wrists and untying the blindfold. “You were taking that so good.” He flips you over on your back, inspecting you. For the first time since you started, you make eye contact with him, your heart swelling from the genuine smile on his face, gazing at you fondly. “Are you okay, cutie?” He brushes the tears from your eyes, cupping your cheek in his calloused palm.
You nod, mumbling an exhausted, “Yes,” closing your eyes to lean into his touch.
He cuddles you, kissing your neck as he continues to stroke himself off. He trails down your chest, latching his lips around your nipple, sucking until he comes inside the condom. When he’s done, he removes it, tying the open end closed and tossing it into the waste basket next to him bed.
It’s silent for a few moments as the two of you relax in each other’s arms. Eventually, he clears his throat to say, “This was fun. I usually don’t do this outside of the group.”
You understand that he’s referring to the trio of women who you saw earlier, and finally, the mystery is solved. Slightly disappointed, you respond, “I’m sorry if I messed anything up.”
He smiles at you. “You didn’t.”
You snuggle closer, kissing him softly. His lips melt into yours, tongue slipping inside your mouth. When you break apart, you ask, “Then, should I only show up when they show up?”
He shakes his head, smirking. “No. I think I want you as my own special plaything from now on.”
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About Dyersfilm’s “leak”
For all of you who don’t know, dyersfilm is an insufferable individual who used to go by the name of swiftlynatalia. She is racist, homophobic, transphobic, and even made fun of her supposed favorite actress’ eating disorder. However, people on Twitter (especially mlvns) entertain her because she had reliable sources during the filming of S4, and after during post production. She had some true leaks, many being the same that Reddit got right, while others only she had. She was also wrong about quite a few things, but generally she was reliable.
It is worth noting though that she is extremely biased against byler (many of the leaks she got wrong for S4 were pertaining their storyline) and absolutely hates the ship.
This time around, she was getting some leaks during the first couple of months of filming to her curious cat, but she herself claimed that these were not reliable leaks whatsoever and that she was pissed because this time she doesn’t have access to the real sources she had for S4. She has complained about this repeatedly for these past few months. The leaks she has gotten tho, many she has mocked and made fun of because they don’t align with what she wants from the show. She also made a “disclaimer” when the show started filming again that she would not be posting leaks about Byler because she hates us all, and yet every single one of those most likely fake leaks she got she posted, and many of them talked about Byler. She would post them and mock them for “clearly being untrue”. She has barely gotten a single Mlvn positive leak this whole time, and when she’s gotten at least something that alludes to them having scenes together she immediately ran to post it and alert all her friends, even tho she herself knows all of these are most likely fake.
For weeks now, her curious cat has been dry af because I guess nda’s are stronger this time, or no one wants to leak shit to her (she’s rude as hell). she posted the following ask 10 days ago. Someone asked her if she knew about any Mike and El scenes and she said no. Keep this in mind for what’s coming next…
Then suddenly yesterday, she alluded to a Jonathan spoiler she’s supposedly pissed about, but refused to post it like she’s done for everything else. People quickly thought it might involve Byler because she said she wasn’t going to post “leaks” about it, even though she had already lol. So they asked her and she said that “yes, it has to do with Byler.”
Then shortly after this someone asked about Mlvn again, this was just today. Again, note how she proceeds to say she knows nothing about Mlvn 😭
Bylers on Twitter noticed her answers about Mlvn and her comment about a supposed byler leak involving Jonathan and started speculating. She ofc noticed this, and not even after an hour of her saying she knows nothing about Mlvn she goes on to say this.
….
She knows nothing but somehow she knows Mlvn is stable? The bipolar disorder of these answers could rival my own bipolar.
Mind you, we all know that she would’ve jumped up at the first opportunity to post any leak that implied Will was pining and miserable, her and her friends would’ve had a field day over it. And yet, she only clarifies this after…
Not to mention how utterly ridiculous this all is. They’ve filmed stuff up until episode 4 (from what we know), why the hell would Will be pining and hung up over Mike if Mlvn is endgame? That makes absolutely no fucking sense. They would have him immediately fully patch things up with Mike and move on, not be hung up on someone he can’t have in the middle of an apocalypse. Especially not after the Duffers said he’s getting a happy ending. Will getting a happy ending but still being in love with Mike halfway through the last season with Mlvn being endgame is absolute lunacy.
Especially when you consider the fact that narratively, in a sense, Will has already moved on. He doesn’t expect anything from Mike, he doesn’t think Mike can like him back. He saw Mike confess his love in front of El, he helped that confession happen. Will literally has no problem with Mlvn anymore pls 😭 He saved them!!
This is the most ridiculous shit I’ve ever read.
Will is somehow upset at Mike not feeling the same way…when Will already believes Mike doesn’t feel the same and doesn’t ever expect any reciprocation 😭
Either she’s wildly twisting this supposed leak out of context to fit her own perceived narrative of what should happen, or she’s straight up lying about this.
And we know she’s lying about Mlvn so…you people decide what you think of this buffoonery lol.
Wait for Reddit leaks y’all. This woman could get a legit leak saying Byler is endgame and dig her own grave before posting it.
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